Ant. I grant you, madam, when I took you for his daughter; for then I might have made you an honourable amends by marriage.

Joh. You Christians are such peeking sinners! you tremble at a shadow in the moonshine.

Ant. And you Africans are such termagants, you stop at nothing.  I must be plain with you,—­you are married, and to a holy man, the head of your religion:  go back to your chamber; go back, I say, and consider of it for this night, as I will do on my part:  I will be true to you, and invent all the arguments I can to comply with you; and who knows but at our next meeting the sweet devil may have more power over me?  I am true flesh and blood, I can tell you that for your comfort.

Joh. Flesh without blood, I think thou art; or, if any, it is as cold as that of fishes.  But I’ll teach thee, to thy cost, what vengeance is in store for refusing a lady who has offered thee her love.—­Help, help, there! will nobody come to my assistance?

Ant. What do you mean, madam? for heaven’s sake, peace; your husband will hear you; think of your own danger, if you will not think of mine.

Joh. Ungrateful wretch, thou deservest no pity!—­Help, help, husband, or I shall be ravished! the villain will be too strong for me!  Help, help, for pity of a poor distressed creature!

Ant. Then I have nothing but impudence to assist me:  I must drown
her clamour, whatever comes on’t. [He takes out his Flute, and plays
                                    as loud as he can possibly, and
                                    she continues crying out.

Enter the MUFTI, in his Night-gown, and two Servants.

Muf. O thou villain, what horrible impiety art thou committing! what, ravishing the wife of my bosom!—­Take him away; ganch him[5], impale him, rid the world of such a monster! [Servants seize him.

Ant. Mercy, dear master, mercy! hear me first, and after, if I have deserved hanging, spare me not.  What have you seen to provoke you to this cruelty?

Muf. I have heard the outcries of my wife; the bleatings of the poor innocent lamb.—­Seen nothing, sayst thou?  If I see the lamb lie bleeding, and the butcher by her with his knife drawn, and bloody, is not that evidence sufficient of the murder?  I come too late, and the execution is already done.

Ant. Pray think in reason, sir; is a man to be put to death for a similitude?  No violence has been committed; none intended; the lamb’s alive:  and, if I durst tell you so, no more a lamb than I am a butcher.

Joh. How’s that, villain, dar’st thou accuse me?

Ant. Be patient, madam, and speak but truth, and I’ll do any thing to serve you:  I say again, and swear it too, I’ll do any thing to serve you. [Aside.