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Show 42 The Conftant Couple. Wild. Then meet me half an hour hence at the Rummer : You muft oblige me by taking a hearty Glafs with me toward the fitting m e out for a certain Project, which this Night I undertake. Stand. I gueis by the Preparation, that Woman's the De-fig "• . Wild. Yes, faith, 1 a m taken dangeroufly ill with two foolilh Maladies, Modefty and Love; the firft I'll cure with Burgundy, and m y Love by a Night's Lodging with the Dam-fel. A fure Remedy. Probatum eft. Stand. I'll certainly meet ynu, Sir. (Exeunt feverally. Enter Clincher junior and Dicky. Clin. A h ! Dicky, this London is a fad Place, a fad vicious Place: I wilh that I were in the Country agon: And this Brother of mine ! I'm forry he's fo great a Rake : I had rather fee him dead than fee him thus. Die. Ay, Sir, He'll fpend his whole Eftate at this fame Jubilee. W h o , d'ye think lives at this fame Jubilee? Gin. W h o , pray ? Die. The Pope. Gin. The Devil he does! M y Brother go to the Place where the Pope dwells! He's bewitch'd fure ! Enter T o m Errand in Clincher fenior\r Goaths. Die. Indeed I believe he is, for he's ftrangely alter'd. Gin. Alter'd! W h y he looks like a Jefuit already. Err. This Lace will fell. What a Blockhead was the Fellow to truft m e with his Coat! If I can get crofs the Garden, down to the Water-fide, I'm pretty fecure. (Aftde. Clin. Brother! Alaw ! O Gemini! Are you m y Brother ? Die. I feize you in the King's N a m e , Sir. Err. O Lord! Shou'd this prove fome Parliament Man now! Gin. Speak, you Rogue, what are you ? Err. A poor Porter, Sir, and going of an Errand. Die. W h a t Errand ? Speak, you Rogue. Err. A Fool's Errand, I'm afraid. Gin. W h o fent you ? Err. A Beau, Sir. Die. N o , no, the Rogue has murder'd your Brother, and ftript him off his Cloaths. Gin. Murder'd m y Brother! O Crimini! O m y poor Jubilee Brother! Stay, by Jupiter Amman, I'm Heir: Tho' fpeak kill'd hSiirmr,a ha,n Idt aIv'ell ygoiuv e kyilolu' dH hailmf a? CCronofwenf.s that yt>u hEarvre. |