for as I am an old Fox-hunter, I should have turned and dodg’d, and have play’d them a thousand tricks they had never seen in their Lives before.  Sir Roger added, that if these gentlemen had any such Intention, they did not succeed very well in it:  for I threw them out, says he, at the End of Norfolk street, where I doubled the Corner, and got shelter in my Lodgings before they could imagine what was become of me.  However, says the Knight, if Captain Sentry will make one with us to-morrow night, and if you will both of you call upon me about four a Clock, that we may be at the House before it is full, I will have my own Coach in readiness to attend you, for John tells me he has got the Fore-Wheels mended.

[Footnote 1:  London “bucks” who disguised themselves as savages and roamed the streets at night, committing outrages on persons and property.]

The Captain, who did not fail to meet me there at the appointed Hour, bid Sir Roger fear nothing, for that he had put on the same Sword which he made use of at the Battel of Steenkirk. Sir Roger’s Servants, and among the rest my old Friend the Butler, had, I found, provided themselves with good Oaken Plants, to attend their Master upon this occasion.  When he had placed him in his Coach, with my self at his Left-Hand, the Captain before him, and his Butler at the Head of his Footmen in the Rear, we convoy’d him in safety to the Play-house, where, after having marched up the Entry in good order, the Captain and I went in with him, and seated him betwixt us in the Pit.  As soon as the House was full, and the Candles lighted, my old Friend stood up and looked about him with that Pleasure, which a Mind seasoned with Humanity naturally feels in its self, at the sight of a Multitude of People who seem pleased with one another, and partake of the same common Entertainment.  I could not but fancy to myself, as the old Man stood up in the middle of the Pit, that he made a very proper Center to a Tragick Audience.  Upon the entring of Pyrrhus, the Knight told me that he did not believe the King of France himself had a better Strut.  I was indeed very attentive to my old Friend’s Remarks, because I looked upon them as a Piece of natural Criticism, and was well pleased to hear him at the Conclusion of almost every Scene, telling me that he could not imagine how the Play would end.  One while he appeared much concerned for Andromache; and a little while after as much for Hermione:  and was extremely puzzled to think what would become of Pyrrhus.

When Sir Roger saw Andromache’s obstinate Refusal to her Lover’s importunities, he whisper’d me in the Ear, that he was sure she would never have him; to which he added, with a more than ordinary Vehemence, You can’t imagine, Sir, what ’tis to have to do with a Widow.  Upon Pyrrhus his threatning afterwards to leave her, the Knight shook his Head, and muttered to himself, Ay, do if you can.  This