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L. Froth. I will; you'd oblige me extreamly to write Notes to the whole Poem.

Brisk. With all my Heart and Soul, and proud of the vast Honour, let me perish.

Ld. Froth. Hee, hee, hee, my Dear, have you done-won't you join with us, we were laughing at my Lady Whifter, and Mr. Sneer.

L. Froth. Ay my Dear - Were you? Oh filthy Mr. Sneer; he's a nauseous Figure, a most fulfamick Fop, foh- He spent two Days together in going about Covent-Garden, to suit the Lining of his Coach with his Complexion.

Ld. Froth. O filly ! yet his Aunt is as fond of him, as if the had brought the Ape into the World her felf.

Brisk. Who, my Lady Toothless; O, she's amor-. tifying Spectacle; she's always chewing the Cud like an old Yew.

Cynt. Fie, Mr. Brisk, 'tis Eringos for her Cough. L. Froth. I have seen her take 'em half chew'd out of her Mouth, to laugh, and then put 'em in again-Foh.

Ld. Froth. Foh.

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L. Froth. Then shes always ready to laugh when Sneer offers to speak-And fits in expectation of his no-Jest, with her Gums bare, and her Mouth open

Brisk. Like an Oyster at low EbЬ , I'gad--Ha, ha, ha.

Cynt. (Afide.) Well, I find there are no Fools so inconfiderable in themselves, but they can render other People contemptible by exposing their Infirmities.

L. Froth. Then that t'other great strapping Lady --- I can't hit of her Name; the old fat fool that paints so exorbitantly.

Brisk. Iknow whom you mean. But duce take

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me

me I can't hit of her Name neither -- - Paints d'ye say? Why the lays it on with a Trowel - - - Then she has a great Beard that bristles through it, and makes her look as if the were plaister'd with Lime and Hair, let me perish.

L. Froth. Oh you made a Song upon her Mr. Brisk.

it.

Brisk. He? egad, so I did --- My Lord can fing

Cynt. O good my Lord let's hear it.

Brisk. 'Tis not a Song neither - - - It's a sort 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,
'Tis a strange thing, buta true one;
Shall Itell you how?
She her lelf makes her own Faces,
And each Morning wears a new one;
Where's the Wonder now?

Brisk. Short, but there's Salt in't; my way of Writing I'gad.

SCENE XI.

[To them] FoOOTMAN.

Lady FROтн.

OW now?

Ho Foor. Your Ladyships Chair is come.

L.

L. Froth. Is Nurse and the Child in it?
Foot. Yes, Madam.

L. Froth. O the dear Creatute! Let's go see it. Ld. Froth. Ifweat, my Dear, you'll spoil that Child, with fending it to and again so 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 seen her these two Hours ---The poor dear Creature - - - Iswear, my Lord, you don'tlove poor little Sapho ---Come, my dear Cynthia, Mr. Brisk, we'll go see Sapho, tho' my Lord won't. Cynt. I'll wait upon your Ladyship.

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Brisk. Pray, Madam, how old is Lady Sapho ? L. Froth. Three Quarters, but I swear she has a World of Wit and can finga Tune already. My Lord, won't you go? Won't you; What not to see Saph? Pray my Lord, come sec little Saph. I knew you cou'd not stay.

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SCENE XII.

CYNTHIA, alone.

I S not so hard to of Affliction, as to dissemble Mirth in Company of Fools Why should I call 'em Fools ? The World thinks better of 'em; for these have Quality and Education, Wit and fine Conversation, are receiv'd and admir'd by the World - - If not, they like and admire themselves - And why is not that true Wisdom? for 'tis Happiness: And for ought I know, we have misapply'd the Name all this while, and mistaken the Thing.

counterfeit Joy in the Depth

If Hapiness in Self-content is placed,

The Wife are Wretched, and Fools only Bless'd.

End of the Third Act.

E 2

ACT.

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ACT. IV.

SCENEI.

MELLEFONTand CYNTHIA.

CYNTHIA.

Heard him loud as I came by the Closet-Door, and my Lady with him, but the seem'd to moderate his Paffion.

Mel. Ay, Hell thank her, as gentle Breezes moderate a Fire; but I shall counter-work her Spells, and ride the Witch in her own Bridle.

Cynt. It's impossible; the'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 strive to reach the Goal, and hinder one another in the Race. I swear it never does well when the Parties are so agreed For when People walk Hand in Hand, there's neither overtaking nor meeting: We Hunt in Cou ples, where we both pursue 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 something in't, -Marriage is the Game that we hunt, and while we think that we only have it in View, I don't see 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 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 Confideration or the Fear of Repentance. Pox o'Fortune, Portion, Settlements and 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, deserves to die in a Ditch. - Here then, I give you my Promise, in spight 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.

Cynt. Hold-Never to marry any Body else. Mel. That's but a kind of Negative ConsentWhy, you won't baulk the Frolick?

Cynt. If you had not been so affured of your own Conduct I would not - But 'tis but reasonable that fince I consent to like a Man without the vile Confideration of Mony, he should give me a very evident Demonstration of his Wit: Therefore let me see you undermine my Lady Touchwood, as you boafted, and force her to give her Consent; and then

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