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Ld. F. O filly! yet his aunt is as fond of him had brought the ape into the world herself.
Brisk. Who, my Lady Toothless; O, she's a morti. fying spectacle; she's always chewing the cud like an old
Cyn. Fy, Mr.Brisk, eringo is for her cough.
L. F. I have seen her take them half-chewed out of her mouth to laugh, and then put them in again-Foh.
Ld. F. Foh. L. F. Then she is always ready to laugh when Sneer offers to speak and fits in expectation of his no jest, with her gums bare, and her mouth openBrisk. Like an oyster at low ebb, 'egad-Ha, ha, ha.
Cyn. (Afide.] Well, I find there are no fools só inconsiderable in themselves, but they can render other people contemptible by exposing their infirmities."
L.F. Then that t'other great ftrapping lady-I cannot hit of her name; the old fat fool that paints fo exorbitantly,
Brisk. I know whom you mean--But deuce take me, I cannot hit of her name neither—Paints, d'ye say? Why, she lays it on with a trowel-Then the has a great beard that bristles, through it, and makes her look as if she were plaistered with lime and hair, let me pe.
L. F. Oh, you made a song upon her, Mr. Brisk. * Brisk. He ! 'egad, so I did My Lord can sing it.
Cyn. O good, my Lord, let us hear it.'
Lord Froth fings.
Shall I tell you how?
Where's the wonder now?
[Exito L. F. O, the dear creature ! let us go fee it.
Ld. F. I swear, my dear, you'll spoil that child with fending it to and again fo often; this is the feventh time the chair has gone for her to-day.
L.F. O-la, I swear it's but the fixth and I han't seen her these two hours -The
dear creature I swear, my Lord, you don't love poor little Sappho,
Come, my dear Cynthia, Mr. Brisk, we'll go fee
Eyn. I'll wait upon your Ladyship.
L. F. Three quarters, but I swear she has a world of wit, and can fing a tune already. My Lord, won't you go? Won't you? What, not to see Saph Pray, my Lord, come see little Saph. I knew you could not stay.
[Exeunt all but Cynthia. • Cyn. 'Tis not so hard to counterfeit joy in the • depth of affliction, as to disemble inirth in the company
of fools -Why should I call them fools? The • world thinks better of them; for these have quality • and education, wit and fine conversation, are received • and admired by the world -If not, they like and
admire themselves And why is not that true wil. • dom, for it is happiness? And for ought I know, we “ have misapplied the name all this while, and mistaken
the thing: fince
А ст IV.
my Lady with him; but the seemed to moderate « his passion.
• Mel. Ay, Hell thank her, as gentle breezes moderate a fire; but I fall counter-work her spells, and ride • the witch in her own bridle.
• Cyn. It is impossible ; she'll cast beyond you ftill
and hinder one another in the race; I swear it never • does well when parties are so agreed - For when people. .. walk hand in hand, there's neither overtaking nor • meeting: we hunt in couples where we both purtue, • the same game, but forget one another; and 'cis be'cause we are so near that we don't think of coming together.
Mel. Hum, 'egad I believe there's something in itMarriage is the game that we hunt, and while we, ' think that we only have it in view, I don't lee but. we have it in our power. • Cyn. Within reach; for example, give me your
have looked through the wrong end of the: ' perspective all this while; for nothing has been between us but our fears.
• Mel. I don't know why we should not steal out of • the house this very moment, and marry one another, • without consideration, or the fear of repentance. Pox: o'fortune, portion, settlements, and jointures.
Cyn. Ay, ay, what have we to do with them; you 'know we marry
love deserves to die in a ditch. Here then, I give you my promise, ' in spite of duty, any temptation of wealth, your inconstancy, or my own inclination to change
• Mel. To run most wilfully and unreasonably away ' with me this moment, and be married. • Cyn. Hold Never to marry any body else.
Mel. That's but a kind of negative consent-Why, you won't baulk the frolic?
had not been fo affured of your own a conduct I would not But 'tis but reasonable that • since I consent to like a man without the vile confide**ration of money, he should give ine a very evident de6 monftration of his wit : therefore, let me see you un. • dermine my Lady Touchwood, as you boasted, and • force her to give her confent, and then • Mel. I'll do it. Cyn. And I'll do it.
Mel. This very next enfuing hour of eight o'clock, * is the last minute of her reign, unless the Devil assist "her in propria persona.
• Cyn. Well,“ if the Devil should affist her, and your
+ Cyn. Why, if you give me very clear demonstration ' that it was the Devil, I will allow for irresistible odds. • But if I find it to be only chance, or destiny, or un“lucky stars, or any thing but the very Devil, I am in"'exorable: only ftill I'll keep my word, and live a maid • for your fake.
Mel. And you won't die one for your own, so still & there's hope.
• Cyn. Here is my mother-in-law, and your friend • Careless, I would not have them see us together yet.
• (Exeunt.' Enter Careless and Lady Plyant.* L. P. I swear, Mr. Careless, you are very alluringand say so many fine things, and nothing is so moving to me as a fine thing. Well, I must do you this justice, and declare in the face of the world, never any body gained so far upon me as yourself; with blushes I muit o vn it, you have shaken, as I may fay, the very foundation of my honour-Well, sure if I escape your importunities, I shall value myself as long as I live, I swear. Care. And despise me.
[Sigbing. L. P. The last of any man in the world, by my purity; now you make me fwear-O, gratitude forbid that I thould ever be wanting in a respectful acknowledgment of an entire resignation of all my best wishes for the per
* The fourth act, in representation, begins here.
fon and parts of fo accomplished a person, whose merit challenges much more, I am sure, than my illiterate praises can description.
Care. (In a whining tone.) Ah, Heavens, Madam, you ruin me with kindness; your charming tongue pursues the victory of your eyes, while at your feet your poer adorer dies.
fine. Care. (Still whining.] Ah, why are you fo fair, fo bewitching fair? O, let me grow to the ground here, and feast
upon that hand; 0, let me press it to my heart, my trembling heart, the nimble movement shall instruct your pulfe, and teach it to alarm desire.--Zoons I am al. molt at the end of my cant, if he does not yield quickly.
[-Aside. L. P. O that's fo passionate and fine, I cannot hear itI am not Tafe if I ttay, and must leave you.
Care. And must you leave me! Rather let me languish out a wretched life, and breathe my soul beneath your
feet -I must say the same thing over again, and cannot help it.
[ Afide. L. P. I swear I am ready to languish tohonour ! Whither is it going? I proteft you have given me the palpitation of the heart. Care. Can
be so cruel ? LiP. O rise, I beseech you, say no more 'till you rise-Why did you kneel so long? I swear I was fo transported I did not see it -Well, to fhew you how far you have gained upon me, I assure you, if Sir Paul fhould die, of all mankind there's none I'd sooner make my second choice.
Care. O Heaven! I cannot out-live this night without your favour-I feel my fpirits faint, a general dampness over-spreads my face, a cold deadly dew already vents through all my pores, and will co-morrow wath me for
ever from your light, and drown ine in my tomb. L. P. O, you have conquered, sweet, melting, me ving Sir, you have conquered -- What heart of marble can refrain to weep, and yield to such fad sayings.
[Cries. Care. I thank Heaven, they are the saddest that I ever faid-Oh!. • I Thall never contain laughter.' (Afde.