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Foig. Vel, and is dere any shin in going to bed, joy?

Gip. Ah, but if the parties should meet, doctor? Foig. Vel den--the parties must be responsible. -Do you begone after putting the count in the closhet; and leave the shins wid themselves-I will come with the count to instruct you in your

chamber. Gip. Well, doctor, your religion is so pure, that I'm resolved to die a martyr to't— -Here's the key of the garden door; come in the back way, when 'tis late-I'll be ready to receive you; but don't so much as whisper, only take hold of my hand; I'll lead you, and do you lead the count, and follow me.

Enter SCRUB.

[Exeunt.

Scrub. What witchcraft now have these two imps of the devil been a-hatching here?—There's twenty Louis d'ors! I heard that, and saw the purse: but I must give room to my betters.

[Exit.

Enter AIMWELL, leading DORINDA, and making love in dumb Show; MRS. SULLEN, and ARCHER. Mrs. Sul. Pray, sir, [To ARCHER.] how d'ye like that piece?

Arch. O, 'tis Leda-You find, madam, how Jupiter came disguised to make love—

Mrs. Sul. Pray, sir, what head is that in the corner, there?

Arch. O, madam, 'tis poor Ovid in his exile.
Mrs. Sul. What was he banished for?

Arch. His ambititious love, madam. [Bowing.] His misfortune touches me.

Mrs. Sul. Was he successful in his amours?

Arch. There he has left us in the dark-He was

too much a gentleman to tell.

Mrs. Sul. If he were secret, I pity him.

Arch. And if he were successful, I envy him.

Mrs. Sul. How d'yelike that Venus over the chimney? Arch. Venus! I protest, madam, I took it for your picture: but now I look again, 'tis not handsome enough.

Mrs. Sul. Oh, what a charm is flattery! if you would see my picture, there it is, over that cabinetHow d'ye like it?

Arch. I must admire any thing, madam, that has the least resemblance of you-But methinks, madam,-[He looks at the Picture and MRS. SULLEN Three or Four Times, by Turns.] Pray, madam, who drew it?

Mrs. Sul. A famous hand, sir.

[Exeunt AIMWELL and DORINDA. Arch. A famous hand, madam! Your eyes, indeed, are featured there; but where's the sparkling moisture, shining fluid, in which they swim? The picture, indeed, has your dimples, but where's the swarm of killing Cupids, that should ambush there? The lips too are figured out; but where's the carnation dew, the pouting ripeness that tempts the taste in the ori ginal?

Mrs. Sul. Had it been my lot to have matched with such a man!

[Aside. Arch. Your breasts too; presumptuous man! what! paint heaven! Apropos, madam, in the very next picture is Salmoneus, that was struck dead with lightning, for offering to imitate Jove's thunder; I hope you served the painter so, madam.

Mrs. Sul. Had my eyes the power of thunder, they should employ their lightning better.

Arch. There's the finest bed in that room, I suppose 'tis your ladyship's bedchamber? Mrs. Sul. And what then, sir?

madam;

Arch. I think the quilt is the richest that ever I saw I can't at this distance, madam, distinguish the figures of the embroidery: will you give me leave, madam?

Mrs. Sul. The devil take his impudence-Sure, if I gave him an opportunity, he durst not offer it-I have a great mind to try.-[Going.-Returns.]'Sdeath, what am I doing?-And alone too;: -Sister, sister!

Arch. I'll follow her close

[Exit.

[Going

For where a Frenchman durst attempt to storm,
A Briton, sure, may well the work perform.

Enter SCRUB.

Scrub. Martin, brother Martin!

Arch. O brother Scrub, I beg your pardon, I was not a-going here's a guinea my master ordered you. Scrub. A guinea! hi, hi, hi, a guinea! eh-by this light it is a guinea; but I suppose you expect one and twenty shillings in change.

Arch. Not at all; I have another for Gipsey.

Scrub. A guinea for her! Fire and faggot for the witch. -Sir, give me that guinea, and I'll discover a plot.

Arch. A plot?

Scrub. Ay, sir, a plot, a horrid plot-First, it must be a plot, because there's a woman in't: secondly, it must be a plot, because there's a priest in't: thirdly, it must be a plot, because there's French gold in't: and fourthly, it must be a plot, because I don't know what to make on't.

Arch. Nor any body else, I'm afraid, brother Scrub.

Scrub. Truly I'm afraid so too; for where there's a priest and a woman, there's always a mystery and a riddle This, I know, that here has been the doctor with a temptation in one hand, and an absolution in the other, and Gipsey has sold herself to the devil; I saw the price paid down, my eyes shall take their oath on't.

Arch. And is all this bustle about Gipsey?

Scrub. That's not all; I could hear but a word here and there; but I remember they mentioned a count, a closet, a back door, and a key.

Arch. The count! did you hear nothing of Mrs. Sullen?

Scrub. I did hear some word that sounded that way: but whether it was Sullen or Dorinda I could not distinguish.

Arch. You have told this matter to nobody, brother?

Scrub. Told! no, sir, I thank you for that; I'm resolved never to speak one word, pro nor con, till we have a peace.

Arch. You are i'the right, brother Scrub; here's a treaty a-foot between the count and the lady.-The priest and the chambermaid are plenipotentiariesIt shall go hard, but I'll find a way to be included in the treaty. Where's the doctor now?

Scrub. He and Gipsey are this moment devouring my lady's marmalade in the closet.

Aim. [From without.] Martin, Martin!

Arch. I come, sir, I come.

Scrub. But you forget the other guinea, brother Martin.

Arch. Here, I give it with all my heart.

[Exit ARCHER. Scrub. And I take it with all my soul. F'cod, I'll spoil your plotting, Mrs. Gipsey; and if you should set the captain upon me, these two guineas will buy me off. [Exit SCRUB.

Enter MRS. SULLEN and DORINDA, meeting.

Mrs. Sul. Well, sister.

Dor. And well, sister.

Mrs. Sul. What's become of my lord?

Dor. What's become of his servant?

Mrs. Sul. Servant! he's a prettier fellow and a finer gentleman by fifty degrees than his master,

Dor. O' my conscience, I fancy you could beg that fellow at the gallows' foot.

Mrs. Sul. O' my conscience, I could, provided I could put a friend of yours in his room.

Dor. You desired me, sister, to leave you, when you transgressed the bounds of honour.

Mrs. Sul. Thou dear censorious country girl— What dost mean? You can't think of the man without the bedfellow, I find.

Dor. I don't find any thing unnatural in that thought. Mrs. Sul. How a little love and conversation improve a woman! Why, child, you begin to live-you never spoke before.

Dor. Because I was never spoke to before: my lord has told me, that I have more wit and beauty than any of my sex; and truly 1 begin to think the

man is sincere.

Mrs. Sul. You are in the right, Dorinda; pride is the life of a woman, and flattery is our daily breadBut I'll lay you a guinea that I had finer things said to me than you had.

Dor. Done- What did your fellow say to ye? Mrs. Sul. My fellow took the picture of Venus for mine.

Dor. But my lover took me for Venus herself.

Mrs. Sul. Common cant! had my spark called me a Venus directly, I should have believed him a footman in good earnest.

too.

Dor. But my lover was upon his knees to me.
Mrs. Sul And mine was upon his tiptoes to me.
Dor. Mine vowed to die for me.

Mrs. Sul. Mine swore to die with me.

Dor. Mine kissed my hand ten thousand times.
Mrs. Sul. Mine has all that pleasure to come.
Dor. Mine spoke the softest moving things.
Mrs. Sul. Ay, ay, mine had his moving things

Dor. Mine offered marriage.

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