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Spoken by Mrs. Bracegirdle.
OORS have this Way (as Story tells) to know
Into the Sea the New-born Babe is thrown,
Let Nature work, and do not Damn too foon,
How nearly fome good Men might have fcap'd finking.
Our Chriftian Cuckolds are more bent to Pity;
Maskell, A Villain; pretended'
Lord Touchwood, Uncle to Mellefont. Mr. Kynafton.
Careless, his Friend.
Lord Froth, A Solemn Coxcomb.
Sir Paul Plyant, An Uxorious, Fool
ifh, old Knight; Brother to Lady Mr. Dogget. Touchwood, and Father to Cynthia.
Lady Touchwood, In Love with Mellefont. Mrs. Barrey. Cynthia, Daughter to Sir Paul by a former Wife, promised to Mellefont.
Lady Froth, A great Coquet; Pre
tender to Poetry, Wit, and Learn- Mrs. Mountfort. ing.
Lady Plyant, Infolent to her Hus
band, and eafy to any Pretender. Mrs. Leigh.
Chaplain, Boy, Footmen, and Attendants.
The SCENE, A Gallery in the Lord Touchwood's Houfe with Chambers adjoining.
A Gallery in the Lord Touchwood's Houfe, with Chambers adjoining.
Enter Careless, Croffing the Stage, with his Hat, Gloves, and Sword in his Hands; as just risen from Table: Mellefont following him.
ED, Ned, whither fo faft? What, turn'd
Care. Where are the Women? I'm weary of guzling, and begin to think them the better Company.
Mel. Then thy Realon ftaggers, and
thou'rt almoft Drunk.
Care. No, Faith, but your Fools grow noify
if a Man muft endure the Noife of Words without Sense, I think the Women have more Mufical Voices, and become Nonfense better.
Mel. Why, they are at the end of the Gallery; retir'd to their Tea, and Scandal; according to their Ancient Custom, after Dinner.- -But I made a Pretence to follow you, because I had fomething to fay to you in private, and I am not like to have many Opportunities this Evening.
Care. And here's this Coxcomb moft critically come to interrupt you.
[To them] Brisk.
Brisk. Boys, boys, Lads, where are you? What, do you give ground? Mortgage for a Bottle, ha ? Careless, this is your Trick; you're always fpoiling Company by leaving it.
Care. And thou art always fpoiling Company by coming into't.
Brisk. Pooh, ha, ha, ha, I know you envy me. Spite, proud Spite, by the Gods! and burning Envy-I'll be judg'd by Mellefont here, who gives and takes Raillery better, you or I. Pfhaw, Man, when I fay you spoil Company by leaving it, I mean you leave no Body for the Company to laugh at. I think there I was with you, ha? Mellefont.
Mel. O' my Word, Brisk, that was a home thrust, you have filenc'd him.
Brisk. Oh, my Dear Mellefont, let me perish, if thou art not the Soul of Conversation, the very Effence of Wit, and Spirit of Wine, -The Duce take me, if there were three good Things faid, or one understood, fince thy Amputation from the Body of our Society,He, I think that's pretty and metaphorical enough: I'gad I could not have faid it out of thy Company,-Careless, ha?
Care. Hum, ay, what is't?
Brisk. O, Mon Cour! What is't! Nay gad I'll punish you for want of Apprehension: The Duce take me if I tell you.
Mel. No, no, hang him, he has no Tafte,But, dear Brisk, excufe me, I have a little Business.
Care.Pr'ythee get thee gone; thou fee'ft we are ferious. Mel. We'll come immediately, if you'll but go in, and keep up good Humour and Senfe in the Company: Pr'ythee do, they'll fall afleep elfe.
Brisk. I'gad fo they will-Well I will, I will, gad you fhall command me from the Zenith to the Nadir.-But the duce take me if I fay a good thing 'till you come,But pr'ythee dear Rogue, make hafte, pr'ythee make hafte, I fhall burft elfe. And yonder your Uncle, my Lord Touchwood, fwears he'll difinherit you, and Sir Paul Plyant threatens to disclaim you for a Son-in-Law, and my Froth won't dance at your Wedding to Morrow; nor, the Duce take me, I won't write your Epithalamiumand fee what a Condition you're like to be brought to. Mel. Well, I'll speak but three Words, and follow you. Brisk. Enough, enough, Careless, bring your Apprehenfion along with you.
Care. Pert Coxcomb.
Mel. Faith'tis a good-natur'd Coxcomb, and has very entertaining Follies-You must be more humane to him at this Juncture, it will do me Service. I'll tell you, I would have Mirth continued this Day at any rate; tho' Patience purchase Folly, and Attention be paid with Noife: There are Times when Senfe may be unfeasonable, as well