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dress up your face in innocence and smiles, and dissemble the very want of dissimulation.You know what will take him.

Sil. 'Tis as hard to counterfeit love, as it is to con

:

ceal it but I'll do my weak endeavour, though I fear I have no art.

Lucy. Hang art, madam, and trust to nature for dissembling.

Man, was by nature, woman's creature made.
We never are but by ourselves betray'd.

[Exeunt.

Enter HEARTWELL, VAINLOVE, and BELLMOUR

following.

Bell. Hist, hist, is not that Heartwell going to Silvia ?

Vain. He's talking to himself, I think; pr'ythee let's try if we can hear him.

Heart. Why, whither in the devil's name, am I a going now? Hum!-let me think-Is not this Silvia's house, the cave of that enchantress, and which consequently I ought to shun as I would infection? To enter here is to put on the envenom'd shirt, to run into the embraces of a fever, and in some raving fit be led to plunge myself into that more consuming fire, a woman's arms. Ha! well recollected, I will recover my reason and be gone.

Bell. Now, Venus forbid!

Vain. Hush

Heart. Well, why do you not move? Feet, do your office-Not one inch; ho, foregad, I'm caught

There stands my north, and thither my needle points -Now could I curse myself, yet cannot repent. O, thou delicious, damn'd, dear, destructive woman! 'Sdeath, how the young fellows will hoot me! I shall be the jest of the town; nay, in two days I expect to be chronicled in ditty, and sung in woeful ballad, to the tune of the superannuated maiden's comfort, or the batchelor's fall; and upon the third, I shall be hang'd in effigy, pasted up for the exemplary ornament of "necessary houses and" coblers' stallsDeath, I can't think on 't-I 'll run into the danger to lose the apprehension.

[Exit. Bell, A very certain remedy, probatum est-Ha, ha, ha, poor George, thou art i' th' right, thou hast sold thyself to laughter; the ill-natured town will find the jest just where thou hast lost it. Ha, ha, how a' struggled, like an old lawyer, between two fees.

Vain. Or a young wench, between pleasure and reputation.

Bell. Or, as you did to-day, when, half afraid, you snatch'd a kiss from Araminta.

Vain. She has made a quarrel on 't.

Bell. Pauh, women are only angry at such offences, to have the pleasure of forgiving 'em.

Vain. And I love to have the pleasure of making my peace—I should not esteem a pardon, if too easily won.

Bell. Thou dost not know what thou wouldst be at ; whether thou wouldst have her angry or pleas'd. Couldst thou be content to marry Araminta ?

Vain. Could you be content to go to heaven?

Bell. Hum, not immediately, in my conscience, not heartily? I'd do a little more good in my generation first, in order to deserve it.

Vain. Nor I to marry Araminta, 'till I merit her. Bell. But how the devil dost thou expect to get her,

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Vain. That's true; but I would

Bell. Marry her without her consent.

riddle beyond woman

Enter SETTER.

Thou 'rt a

Trusty Setter, what tidings? How goes the project?
Set. As all wicked projects do, sir, "where the
"devil prevents our endearments" with success.
Bell. A good hearing, Setter.

Vain. Well, I'll leave you with your engineer. [Exit.
Bell. And hast thou provided necessaries ?

Set. All, all, sir. The large sanctified hat, and the little precise band, with a swinging long spiritual cloak, to cover carnal knavery—not forgetting the black patch, which Tribulation Spintext wears, as I'm informed, upon one eye, as a penal mourning for the ogling offences of his youth; and some say with that eye, he first discovered the frailty of his wife.

Bell. Well, in this fanatic father's habit, will I confess Lætitia.

Set. Rather prepare her for confession, sir, by helping her to sin.

E

I shall use the robes.

Bell. Be at your master's lodging in the evening, [Exeunt Bell. and Vain. Set. I shall, sir-I wonder to which of these two gentlemen I do most properly appertain-the one uses me as his attendant; the other, being the better acquainted with my parts, employs me as a pimp. Why that 's much the more honourable employment by all means— -I follow one as my master, t'other follows me as his conductor.

Enter LUCY.

Lucy. There's the hang-dog, his man

-I had a

power over him in the reign of my mistress; but he is too true a valet de chambre not to affect his master's faults; and consequently is revolted from his allegiance.

Set. Undoubtedly, 't is impossible to be a pimp and not a man of parts; that is, without being politic, diligent, secret, wary, and so forth—And to all this, valiant as Hercules-that is, passively valiant and actively obedient. Ah! Setter, what a treasure is here lost for want of being known ?

Lucy. Here's some villany a-foot, he's so thoughtful; may be I may discover something in my maskWorthy sir, a word with you. [Puts on her mask. Set. Why, if I were known, I might come to be a great man

Lucy. Not to interrupt your meditation

Set. And I should not be the first that has procured his greatness by pimping

I

Lucy. Now, poverty and the pox light upon thee, for a contemplative pintp.

Set. Ha! what art, who thus maliciously hast awaken'd me from my dream of glory? Speak, thou vile disturber

Lucy. Of thy most vile cogitations

-thou poor,

conceited wretch, how wert thou valuing thyself upon thy master's employment? For he's the head pimp to Mr. Bellmour.

Set. Good words, damsel, or I shall dost thou know my master or me?

But how

Lucy. Yes, I know both master and man to be

Set. To be men, perhaps; nay, 'faith, like enough; I often march in the rear of my master, and enter the breaches which he has made.

Lucy. Ay, the breach of faith, which he has begun. Thou traitor to thy lawful princess.

Set. Why, how now! pr'ythee, who art? Lay by that worldly face, and produce your natural vizor.

Lucy. No, sirrah, I'll keep it on to abuse thee, and leave thee without hopes of revenge.

Set. Oh! I begin to smoke ye. Thou art some forsaken Abigail, we have dailied with thee heretoforeand art come to tickle thy imagination with remem brance of iniquity past.

Lucy. No, thou pitiful flatterer of thy master's imperfections; thou maukin, made up of the shreds and parings of his superfluous fopperies.

Set. Thou art thy mistress's soul self, composed of her unsullied iniquities and clothing.

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