SIR BENJAMIN. O my Unkle I see knows nothing of the matter----

CRABTREE. But Sir Peter tax'd him with the basest ingratitude----

SIR BENJAMIN. That I told you, you know----

CRABTREE. Do Nephew let me speak--and insisted on immediate----

SIR BENJAMIN. Just as I said----

CRABTREE. Odds life! Nephew allow others to know something too--
A Pair of Pistols lay on the Bureau--for Mr. Surface--it seems,
had come home the Night before late from Salt-Hill where He had been
to see the Montem with a Friend, who has a Son at Eton--so unluckily
the Pistols were left Charged----

SIR BENJAMIN. I heard nothing of this----

CRABTREE. Sir Peter forced Charles to take one and they fired--
it seems pretty nearly together--Charles's shot took Place as I tell
you--and Sir Peter's miss'd--but what is very extraordinary the Ball
struck against a little Bronze Pliny that stood over the Fire Place--
grazed out of the window at a right angle--and wounded the Postman,
who was just coming to the Door with a double letter from
Northamptonshire.

SIR BENJAMIN. My Unkle's account is more circumstantial I must
confess--but I believe mine is the true one for all that.

LADY SNEERWELL. I am more interested in this Affair than they