this moment. I am sorry I have rib-roasted you so unmercifully; can you walk?
Sir C. (very shortly.) Yes, yes.
Rob. O we'll help his honour. (going up with Sharp, very provokingly, to assist him.)
Sir C. Keep off, scoundrels! you are at the bottom of all this. (Exeunt Seabright leading out Sir Crafty in a very rueful plight, followed by Lady Sarah and Sophia, and the servants, endeavouring to stifle their laughter.)
SCENE IV. Seabright's library. A great noise and confusion of voices is heard without.
Seabright. (speaking without.) Torment me no more with these things! I will hear no more complaints, and no more explanations! let me have peace, I beseech you, in mine own house, for one half hour at least. (He enters much disturb'd, shutting the door violently behind him, and pacing up and down the room, sometimes muttering to himself, and sometimes speaking aloud.) What! is there no getting on in this upward path of honour, unless we tear our way through all these briars and nettles?—Contention and misery at home! is this the price we pay for honour and distinction in the world? Would no honours take root on my untoward soil, till I had grubb'd up every sprig and shoot of comfort to make room for them? It were better to be a panniered jack-ass, and pick up my scanty provender
