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Mrs. B. They are, indeed. The same party that assembled to attempt your rescue, are still parading about tumultuously, and their numbers are continually increasing.

Balt. That's right! The enemy, I hope, has heard the sound of it round his doors: they have bid him a good morrow cheerily.

Mrs. B. I don't believe they suspect him yet, for it is too bad to imagine.

Balt. (exultingly.) But they will all know it soon. All the world will know it. Man, woman, and child will know it; and even clothed in the very coats his ostentatious bounty has bestow'd upon them, the grey-headed labourers will curse him. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! How many chaldron of coals, and hogsheads of ale, and well fatten'd oxen will, in one untoward moment, be forgotten by those ungrateful hinds! Ha, ha, ha! The very children will call to him as he passes by. Methinks I tread lightly on the floor of this dungeon, with the step of an injured man who rises from the grasp of oppression. Raise thy drooping head, my Isabella: I am a thousand times more happy than I have been: all mankind will sympathize with me now.

Mrs. B. Every honest breast, indeed, must detest baseness and hypocrisy.

Balt. Ay, thou speak'st with some energy now. Come to my heart! there will be sympathy between us. Now, thou art the wife of Baltimore! But oh! my Isabella! a poor man's wife has many duties to fulfil.