L. Froth. I will; you'd oblige me extreamly to write Notes to the whole Poem. Brisk. With all my Heart and Soul of the vaft Honour, let me perish. and proud Ld. Froth. Hee, hee, hee, my Dear, have you won't you join with us, we were laughing done at my Lady Whifler, and Mr. Sneer. L. Froth. Ay my Dear Were you? Oh filthy Mr. Sneer; he's a naufeous Figure, a most fulfamick Fop, foh-He spent two Days together in going about Covent-Garden, to fuit the Lining of his Coach with his Complexion. Ld. Froth. O filly yet his Aunt is as fond of him, as if she had brought the Ape into the World her felf. Brisk. Who, my Lady Toothless; O, fhe's a mor- . tifying Spectacle ; The's always chewing the Cud like an old Yew. Cynt. Fie, Mr. Brisk, 'tis Eringos for her Cough. L. Froth. I have feen her take em half chew'd out of her Mouth, to laugh, and then put 'em in again Foh. Ld. Froth. Foh. 1 L. Froth. Then fhes always ready to laugh when Sneer offers to speak And fits in expectation of his no-Jeft, with her Gums bare, and her Mouth open Brisk. Like an Oyster at low Ebb , l'gad--Ha, ha, ha. Cynt. (Afide.) Well, I find there are no Fools fo inconfiderable in themselves, but they can render other People contemptible by expofing their Infirmities. L. Froth. Then that t'other great strapping Lady ---I can't hit of her Name; the old fat Fool that paints fo exorbitantly. Brisk. Iknow whom you mean--. But duce take me me I can't hit of her Name neither Paints d'ye fay? Why the lays it on with a Trowel Then fhe has a great Beard that briftles through it, and makes her look as if the were plaifter'd with Lime and Hair, let me perish. L. Froth. Oh you made a Song upon her Mr. Brisk. it. Brisk. He egad, fol did My Lord can fing Cynt. O good my Lord let's hear it. Brisk. 'Tis not a Song neither --- It's a fort of an Epigram, or rather an Epigrammatick Sonnet ; I don't know what to call it, but it's Satire.--- Sing it my Lord. Lord Froth fings. Ancient Phillis has young Graces, She her lelf makes her own Faces, Brisk. Short, but there's Salt in't; my way of Writing I'gad. SCENE X I. [To them] FOOTMAN. Lady FRO T H. OW now? HFor Your Ladyfhips Chair is come. Foot. L. L. Froth. Is Nurfe and the Child in it? L. Froth. O the dear Creature! Let's go fee it. Ld. Froth. Itwear, my Dear, you'll spoil that Child, with fending it to and again fo often; this is the seventh time the Chair has gone for her to Day. L. Froth. O-law I swear it's but the fixth--and I han't feen her these two Hours -The poor dear Creature ---Ifwear, my Lord, you don't love poor little Sapho--- Come, my dear Cynthia, Mr. Brisk, we'll go fee Sapho, tho' my Lord won't. Cynt. I'll wait upon your Ladyhip. Brisk. Pray, Madam, how old is Lady Sapho ? L. Froth. Three Quarters, but I fwear the has a World of Wit, and can finga Tune already. My Lord, won't you go? Won't you; What not to fee Saph? Pray my Lord, come fee little Saph. I knew you cou'd not stay. EbaYRENE REDEE pany of Fools CYNTHIA, alone. To Action, as to diffemble Mirth in ComIS not fo hard to counterfeit Joy in the Depth Why fhould I call 'em Fools! The World thinks better of 'em; for thefe have Quality and Education, Wit and fine Converfation, are receiv'd and admir'd by the World they like and admire themfelves If not, And why is not that true Wisdom? for 'tis Happiness: And for ought I know, we have mifapply'd the Name all this while, and mistaken the Thing. If Hapinefs in Self-content is plac'd, The Wife are Wretched, and Fools only Blefs'd. End of the Third Act. E 2 A CT. I A CT. IV. SCENE I. MELLEFONTand CYNTHIA. CYNT H I A. , Heard him loud as I came by the Closet-Door, and my Lady with him, but the feem'd to moderate his Paffion. Mel. Ay, Hell thank her, as gentle Breezes moderate a Fire; but I fhall counter-work her Spells, and ride the Witch in her own Bridle. Cynt. It's impoffible; fhe'll caft beyond you still I'll lay my Life it will never be a Match. Mel. What? Cynt. Between you and me. Mel. Why fo? Cynt. My Mind gives me it won't because we are both willing; we each of us ftrive to reach the Goal, and hinder one another in the Race. I fwear it never does well when the Parties are fo agreed For when People walk Hand in Hand, there's neither overtaking nor meeting: We Hunt in Cou ples, where we both purfue the fame Game, but forget one another; and 'tis because we are so near that we don't think of coming together. Mel. Mel. Hum, 'gad I believe there's fomething in't, Marriage is the Game that we hunt, and while we think that we only have it in View, I don't fee but we have it in our Power. Cynt. Within reach; for Example, give me your Hand; you have look'd through the wrong End of the Perfpective all this while; for nothing has been between us but our Fears. Mel. I don't know why we fhould not steal out of the House this very Moment and marry one another, without Confideration or the Fear of RepenPox o'Fortune, Portion, Settlements and tance. Jointures! Cynt. Ay, ay, what have we to do with 'em, you know we marry for Love. Mel. Love, Love, down-right very villainous. Love. Cynt. And he that can't live upon Love, deferves to die in a Ditch. Here then, I give you my Promife, in fpight of Duty, any Temptation of Wealth, your Inconftancy, or my own Inclination to change Mel. To run moft wilfully and unreasonably away with me this Moment, and be married. Cynt. Hold - Never to marry any Body else. Mel. That's but a kind of Negative Confent Why, you won't baulk the Frolick? Cynt. If you had not been so assured of your own Conduct I would not But 'tis but reafonable that fince I confent to like a Man without the vile Confideration of Mony, he fhould give me a very evident Demonftration of his Wit: Therefore let me fee you undermine my Lady Touchwood, as you boafted, and force her to give her Confent; and then |