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Vizard. And she is cruel?

Colonel S. No.

Vizard. Her parents prevent your happiness?
Colonel S. Not that.

Vizard. Then she has no fortune?

Colonel S. A large one. Beauty to tempt all mankind, and virtue to beat off their assaults. Oh, Vizard! such a creature!

Enter SIR HARRY WILDAIR, crosses the Stage singing, with FOOTMEN after him.

Hey-day! who the devil have we here?

Vizard. The joy of the playhouse, and life of the Park; Sir Harry Wildair newly come from Paris. Colonel S. Sir Harry Wildair! Did not he go a volunteer some three or four years ago?

Vizard. The same.

Colonel S. Why, he behaved himself very bravely. Vizard. Why not? Dost think bravery and gaiety are inconsistent? He's a gentleman of most happy circumstances, born to a plentiful estate; has had a genteel and easy education, free from the rigidness of teachers and pedantry of schools. His florid constitution being never ruffled by misfortune, nor stinted in its pleasures, has rendered him entertaining to others, and easy to himself. Turning all passion into gaiety of humour, by which he chuses rather to rejoice with his friends, than be hated by any; as shall see.

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Enter SIR HArry Wildair.

Sir H. Ha, Vizard!

Vizard. Sir Harry!

Sir H. Who thought to find you out of the Rubric so long? I thought thy hypocrisy had been wedded to a pulpit-cushion long ago.-Sir, if I mistake not your face, your name is Standard?

Colonel S. Sir Harry, I'm' your humble servant.

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Sir H. Come, gentlemen, the news, the news of th' town, for I'm just arrived.

Vizard. Why, in the city end o' th' town we're playing the knave, to get estates.

Colonel S. And in the court end playing the fool, in spending them.

Sir H. Just so in Paris. I'm glad we're grown so modish.

Vizard. We are so reformed, that gallantry is taken for vice.

Colonel S. And hypocrisy for religion.

Sir H. A-la-mode de Paris again.

Vizard. Nothing like an oath in the city.

Colonel S. That's a mistake; for my major swore a hundred and fifty last night to a merchant's wife in her bed-chamber.

Sir H. Pshaw! this is trifling; tell me news, gentlemen. What lord has lately broke his fortune at the clubs, or his heart at Newmarket, for the loss of a race ? What wife has been lately suing in Doctor'sCommons for alimony: or what daughter run away with her father's valet? What beau gave the noblest ball at Bath, or had the gayest equipage in town? Į want news, gentlemen.

Colonel S. 'Faith, sir, these are no news at all. Vizard. But pray, Sir Harry, tell us some news of your travels.

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Sir H. With all my heart.-You must know, then, I went over to Amsterdam in a Dutch ship. I went from thence to Landen, where I was heartily drubbed in battle, with the butt end of a Swiss musket. thence went to Paris, where I had half a dozen intrigues, bought half a dozen new suits, fought a couple of duels, and here I am again in statu quo.

Vizard. But we heard that you designed to make the tour of Italy: what brought you back so soon? Sir H. That which brought you into this world, and may perhaps carry you out of it,—a woman.

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Colonel S. What! quit the pleasures of travel for a woman?

Sir H. Ay, colonel, for such a woman! I had rather see her ruelle than the palace of Louis Le Grand. There's more glory in her smile, than in the jubilee at Rome and I would rather kiss her hand than the Pope's toe.

Vizard. You, colonel, have been very lavish in the beauty and virtue of your mistress; and Sir Harry here has been no less eloquent in the praise of his. Now will I lay you both ten guineas a-piece that neither of them is so pretty, so witty, or so virtuous as mine.

Colonel S. 'Tis done.

mistress may my

Sir H. I'll double the stakes-But, gentlemen, now I think on't, how shall we be resolved? For I know not where be found; she left Paris about a month before me, and I had an accountColonel S. How, sir! left Paris about a month before you?

Sir H. Yes, sir, and I had an account that she lodged somewhere in St James's.

Vizard How! somewhere in St James's say you? Sir H. Ay, sir, but I know not where, and perhaps mayn't find her this fortnight.

Colonel S. Her name, pray, Sir Harry?

Vizard. Ay, ay, her name; perhaps, we know her. Sir H. Her name! Ay, she has the softest, whitest hand that ever was made of flesh and blood; her lips so balmy sweet

Colonel S. But her name, sir?

Sir H. Then her neck and

Vizard. But her name, sir? her quality?

Sir H. Then her shape, colonel!

Colonel S. But her name I want, sir.

Sir H. Then her eyes, Vizard!

Colonel S. Pshaw, Sir Harry! her name or nothing!

Sir H. Then if you must have it, she's called the

Lady-But then her foot, gentlemen! she dances to a miracle. Vizard, you have certainly lost your

wager.

Vizard. Why, you have certainly lost your senses; we shall never discover the picture unless you subscribe the name.

Sir H. Then her name is Lurewell.

Colonel S. 'Sdeath! my mistress!
Vizard. My mistress, by Jupiter!

Sir H. Do you know her, gentlemen?
Colonel S. I have seen her, sir.

[Aside Aside.

Sir H. Canst tell where she lodges? Tell me, dear colonel.

Colonel S. Your humble servant, sir.

[Exit. Sir H. Nay, hold, colonel; I'll follow you, and will know. [Runs out. Vizard. The lady Lurewell his mistress! He loves her: but she loves me.- -But he's a baronet, and I plain Vizard; he has a coach, and I walk on foot; I was bred in London, and he in Paris.That very circumstance has murdered me- Then some stratagem must be laid to divert his pretensions.

Enter WILDair.

Sir H. Pr'ythee, Dick, what makes the colonel se out of humour?

Vizard. Because he's out of pay, I suppose.

Sir H. 'Slife, that's true! I was beginning to mistrust some rivalship in the case.

Vizard. And suppose there were, you know the colonel can fight, Sir Harry.

Sir H. Fight! Pshaw-but he cannot dance, ha!We contend for a woman, Vizard. 'Slife man, if ladies were to be gained by sword and pistol only, what the devil should all we beaux do?

Vizard. I'll try him farther. [Aside.] But would not you, Sir Harry, fight for this woman you so much admire?

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SCENE I.] THE CONSTANT COUPLE.

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Sir H. Fight! Let me consider. I love herthat's true;- -but then I love honest Sir Harry Wildair better. The lady Lurewell is divinely charming right-but then a thrust i' the guts, or a Middlesex jury, is as ugly as the devil.

Vizard. Ay, Sir Harry, 'twere a dangerous cast for a beau baronet to be tried by aparcel of greasy, grumbling, bartering boobies, who would hang you, purely because you're a gentleman.

Sir H. Ay, but, on t'other hand, I have money enough to bribe the rogues with: so, upon mature deliberation, I would fight for her. But no more of her. Pr'ythee, Vizard, cannot you recommend a friend to a pretty mistress by the bye, till I can find my own? You have store, I'm sure; you cunning poaching dogs make surer game, than we that hunt open and fair. Pr'ythee now, good Vizard.

Vizard. Let me consider a little.-Now love and revenge inspire my politics!

[Aside. [Pauses whilst SIR HARRY walks, singing. Sir H. Pshaw! thou'rt longer studying for a new mistress, than a waiter would be in drawing fifty corks.

Vizard. I design you good wine; you'll therefore bear a little expectation.

Sir H. Ha! say'st thou, dear Vizard?

Vizard. A girl of nineteen, Sir Harry.

Sir H. Now nineteen thousand blessings light on thee!

Vizard. Pretty and witty.

Sir H. Ay, ay, but her name, Vizard!

Vizard. Her name! yes-she has the softest, whitest hand that e'er was made of flesh and blood; her lips so balmy sweet

Sir H. Well, well, but where shall I find her, man? Vizard. Find her!-but then her foot, Sir Harry --she dances to a miracle.

Sir H. Pr'ythee, don't distract me.

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