k no more notice
than as if Nol. Bluffe had not been in the land of the living.

SHARP. Strange!

SIR JO. Yet, by the Lord Harry, 'tis true, Mr. Sharper, for I went every
day to coffee-houses to read the gazette myself.

BLUFF. Ay, ay, no matter. You see, Mr. Sharper, after all I am content
to retire; live a private person. Scipio and others have done it.

SHARP. Impudent rogue. [_Aside_.]

SIR JO. Ay, this damned modesty of yours. Agad, if he would put in
for't he might be made general himself yet.

BLUFF. Oh, fie! no, Sir Joseph; you know I hate this.

SIR JO. Let me but tell Mr. Sharper a little, how you ate fire once out
of the mouth of a cannon. Agad, he did; those impenetrable whiskers of
his have confronted flames--

BLUFF. Death, what do you mean, Sir Joseph?

SIR JO. Look you now. I tell you he's so modest he'll own nothing.

BLUFF. Pish, you have put me out, I have forgot what I was about. Pray
hold your tongue, and give me leave. [_Angrily_.]

SIR JO. I am dumb.

BLUFF. This sword I think I was telling you of, Mr. Sharper. This sword
I'll maintain to be the best divine, anatomist, lawyer, or casuist in
Europe; it shall decide a controversy or split a cause--

SIR JO. Nay, now I must speak; it will split a hair, by the Lord Harry,
I have seen it.

BLUFF. Zounds, sir, it's a lie; you have not seen it, nor sha'n't see
it; sir, I say you can't see; what d'ye say to that now?

SIR JO. I am blind.

BLUFF. Death, had any other man interrupted me--

SIR JO. Good Mr. Sharper, speak to him; I dare not look that way.

SHARP. Captain, Sir Joseph's penitent.

BLUFF. Oh, I am calm, sir, calm as a discharged culverin. But 'twas
indiscreet, when you know what will provoke me. Nay, come, Sir Joseph,
you know my heat's soon over.

SIR JO. Well, I am a fool sometimes, but I'm sorry.

BLUFF. Enough.

SIR JO. Come, we'll go take a glass to drown animosities. Mr. Sharper,
will you partake?

SHARP. I wait on you, sir. Nay, pray, Captain; you are Sir Joseph's
back.

SCENE III.

ARAMINTA, BELINDA, BETTY _waiting_, _in Araminta's apartment_.

BELIN. Ah! nay, dear; prithee, good, dear, sweet cousin, no more. O
Gad! I swear you'd make one sick to hear you.

ARAM. Bless me! what have I said to move you thus?

BELIN. Oh, you have raved, talked idly, and all in commendation of that
filthy, awkward, two-legged creature man. You don't know what you've
said;