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Clin. fen. Yes, fir, for I muft ftay a month in Amfterdam, to study poetry.

Clin. jun. Then I fuppofe, brother, you travel through Mufcovy to learn fashions, don't you, brother?

Clin. fen. Brother! Prithee, Robin, don't call me brother; fir will do every jot as well.

Clin. jun. O Jupiter Ammon! why so?

Clin. Jen. Because people will imagine that you have a fpite at me. But have you feen your cousin Angelica yet, and her mother the Lady Darling?

Clin. jun. No, my dancing-mafter has not been with me yet. How fhall I falute them, brother?

Clin. fen. Pihaw, that's eafy; 'tis only two fcrapes, a kifs, and your humble fervant. I'll tell you more when I come from the Jubilee. Come along. [Exeunt.

SCENE, Lady Darling's House.

Enter Wildair with a Letter.

Wild. We bless'd the night and curs'd the coming day.

Ike light and heat incorporate we lay,

Well, if this paper-kite flies fure, I'm fecure of my game-humph! The prettiest bordel I have feen, a very ftately genteel one. [Footmen crofs the ftage. Hey day! equipage too! Now for a bawd by the curtely, and a whore with a coat of arms.-'Sdeath. I'm afraid I've mistaken the house.

Enter Lady Darling.

No, this must be the bawd by her gravity.
Darl. Your bufinefs, pray, fir?

Wild. Pleasure, madam.

you

farther;

Darl. Then, fir, you have no business here. Wild. This letter, madam, will inform Mr. Vizard fent it, with his humble fervice to your ladyship.

Darl. How does my cousin, fir?

Wild. Ay, her coufin too; that's right procurefs again.

Madam,

Darl.

Madam,

Dar E Arnest inclination to ferveSir Harry

Madam
Fortune

Court my Coufin-Gentleman

Your Ladyship's most humble Servant,
VIZARD.

Sir, your fortune and quality are fufficient to recommend you any where; but what goes farther with me, is the recommendation of fo fober and pious a young gentleman as my coufin Vizard.

Wild. A right fanctify'd bawd o'my word.

Darl. Sir Harry, your converfation with Mr. Vizard argues you a gentleman, free from the loofe and vicious carriage of the town; I'll therefore call my daughter.

[Exit. Wild. Now go thy way for an illuftrious bawd of Babylon-She dreffes up a fin fo religioufly, that the devil wou'd hardly know it of his making.

Re-enter Darling with Angelica.

Darl. Pray, daughter, ufe him civilly; fuch matches, 'won't offer every day. [Exit. Lady Darl.' Wild. O all ye powers of love! An angel! 'Sdeath, what money have I got in my pocket! I can't offer her lefs than twenty guineas- -and by Jupiter fhe's

worth a hundred.

Angel. "Tis he! The very fame! And his perfon as agreeable as his character of good humourheav'n his filence proceed from respect.

--pray

Wild. How innocent fhe looks! How would that modefty adorn virtue, when it makes even vice look fo charming! By heaven there's fuch a commanding innocence in her looks, that I dare not ask the question.

Angel. Now all the charms of real love and feign'd indifference affift me to engage his heart, for mine is loft already.

Wild. Madam-I, I-zoons, I cannot fpeak to hor -but fhe's a whore, and I will- madam, in short, I, IO hypocrify, hypocrify, what a charming fin art thou?

Angel. He is caught; now to fecure my conqueftI thought, Sir, you had bufinefs to communicate."

Wild. Bufinefs to communicate! How nicely fhe words it! Yes, madam, I have a little business to communicate. Don't you love finging birds, madam ?

Angel. That's an odd question for a lover——Yes, fir. Wild. Why then, madam, here is a neft of the prettiest goldfinches that ever chirp'd in a cage; twenty young ones, I affure you, madam.

Angel. Twenty young ones! What then, fir?

Wild. Why then, madam, there are-twenty young ones-'Slife, I think twenty is pretty fair.

Angel. He's mad, fure-Sir Harry, when you have learn'd more wit and manners, you shall be welcome here again..

Wild. Wit and manners! Egad, now I conceive there is a great deal of wit and manners in twenty guineas — I'm fure 'tis all the wit and manners I have about me at prefent. What shall I do?

Enter Clincher junior and Dicky.

What the the devil's here? Another coufin, I warrant ye! Hark'e, fir, can you lend me ten or a dozen guinéas inftantly? I'll pay you fifteen for them in three hours, upon my honour.

Clin. jun. Thefe London sparks are plaguy impudent! This fellow, by his wig and affurance, can be no lefs than a courtier.

Dick. He's rather a courtier by his borrowing.

Clin. jun. Faith, fir, I ha'n't above five guineas about me.

Wild. What business have you here then, fir? For to my knowledge twenty won't be fufficient.

Clinch. jun. Sufficient! For what, fir?

Wild. What, fir! Why, for that, fir; what the devil fhould it be, fir? I know your bufinefs, notwithstanding all your gravity, fir.

Clinch. jun. My business! Why my coufie lives here.
Wild. I know your coufin does live here, and Vizard's
coufin, and every body's coufin-
Hark'e, fir, I

[Exit.

fhall return immediately; and if you offer to touch her
till I come back, I fhall cut your throat, rafcal.
Clinch. jun. Why the man's mad, fure!
Dick. Mad, fir, ay; why he's a beau.

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Clinch.

Clinch. jun. A beau! What's that? Are all madmen beaux?

Dick. No, fir; but most beaux are madmen. But now for your coufin: Remember your three fcrapes, a kifs, and your humble fervant. [Exeunt, as into the house.

SCENE, the Street.

Enter Wildair, Colonel following.

Stand. Sir Harry, Sir Harry!

Wild. I'm in hafte, colonel; befides, if you're in no better humour than when I parted with you in the park this morning, your company won't be very agreeable.

Stand. You're a happy man, Sir Harry, who are never out of humour: can nothing move your gall, Sir Harry? Wild. Nothing but impoffibilities, which are the fame as nothing.

Stand. What impoffibilities?

me,

Wild. The refurrection of my father to difinherit or an act of parliament against wenching. A man of eight thousand pounds per annum to be vext! No, no; anger and fpleen are companions for younger brothers. Stand. Suppofe one call'd you fon of a whore behind your back.

Wild. Why, then wou'd I call him rascal behind his back; fo we're even.

Stand. But fuppofe you had loft a mistress.

Wild. Why, then I wou'd get another.

Stand. But fuppofe you were discarded by the woman you love, that wou'd furely trouble you.

Wild. You're mistaken, colonel; my love is neither romantically honourable, nor meanly mercenary; 'tis only a pitch of gratitude; while fhe loves me, I love her; when the defifts, the obligation's void.

Stand. But to be mistaken in your opinion, fir; if the Lady Lurewell (only fuppofe it) had difcarded you-I fay, only fuppofe it- and had fent your discharge by me. Wild. Pfhaw! that's another impoffibility.

Stand. Are you fure of that?

Wild. Why, 'twere a folecifm in nature. Why she's a rib of me, fir. She dances with me, fings with me, plays with me, fwears with me; lies with me.

Stand.

Stand. How, fir?

Wild. I mean in an honourable way; that is, fhe lies for me. In short, we are as like one another as a couple of guineas.

Stand. Now that I have rais'd you to the highest pinnacle of vanity, will I give you fo mortifying a fall, as fhall dafh your hopes to pieces-- I pray your honour to perufe thefe papers. [Gives him the packet. Wild. What is't, the mufter-roll of your regiment, Colonel?

Stand. No, no, 'tis a lift of your forces in your last love campaign; and, for your comfort, all difbanded. Wild. Prithee, good metaphorical colonel, what d'ye

mean?

Stand. Read, fir, read; thefe are the Sibyls leaves that will unfold your destiny.

Wild. So it be not a falfe deed to cheat me of my eftate, what care I--[opening the packet] humph! my hand! To the Lady Lurewell-To the Lady LurewellTo the Lady Lurewell- What the devil haft thou been tampering with, to conjure up these spirits?

Stand. A certain familiar of your acquaintance, fir. Read, read.

Wild. [Reading]-Madam, my paffion-fo naturalyour beauty contending-force of charms-mankind— eternal admirer Wildair! I ne'er was afham'd of my name before.

Stand. What, Sir Harry Wildair out of humour! ha, ha, ha! Poor Sir Harry; more glory in her fmile than in the Jubilee at Rome, ha, ha, ha! But then her foot, Sir Harry, The dances to a miracle! ha, ha, ha! Fie, Sir Harry, a man of your parts write letters not worth keeping! What fay'st thou, my dear knight errant ? ha, ha, ha! you may feek adventures now indeed.

Wild. [fings] No, no, let her wander, &c.

Stand. You are jilted to fome tune, fir; blown up with falfe mufic, that's all.

Wild. Now, why should I be angry that a woman is a woman? Since inconftancy and falfhood are grounded in their natures, how can they help it?

Stand. Then they must be grounded in your nature; for fhe's a rib of you, Sir Harry.

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