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Show lo The hconftant: Or, power, I wou'd make a Fool of any Fellow in France. Well, 1 muftconftff,1 do love a little Coquetting with all my heart; m y bufinefs fhou'd be to break Gold with m y Lover one hour, and crack m y Promife the next; he fhou'd find m e one day with a Prayer-Book in m y hand, and with a Play-Book another. He fifed have m y confent to buy the Wedding-Ring, and the next moment wou'd 1 laugh in his Face. Ori. O,' my Dear, were there no greater Tye upon my Heart, than tl.cre is upon m y Confcience, 1 wou'd foon throw the Contract out a doors; but the mifchief on't is, I a m fo fond of being tyrd, that I'm fore'd to be juft, and the ftrength of m y Paffion keeps down the inclination of m y Sex. But here's the Old Gentleman. Old Ad. Where's m y Wenches? Where's m y two little Gii h ? eh ! Have a care, look to your felves, faith, they're a coining, the Travellers are a coming. Well! which of you two wi!! be my Daughter-in-Law now? Bifarre, Bifarre, what fay you, Mad-cap? Mirabel is a pure wild Fellow. Bif. 1 like him the worfe. Old AI. You lye, Honey, ycu like him the better, indeed you do: What fay you, m y t'other little Filbert ? he ! Ori. I fuppofe theGentleman will chufe for himfelf, Sir. Old Ad. W h y , that's difcreetly faid ; and fo he fhall. • Enter Mirabel WDuretete, they falute the Ladies. Btb. Heark'e, you fhall marry one of the Girls, Sirrah. Mir. Sir, 111 marry'em both, if you pleafe. Bif. [Afide.] He'll find that one m a y ferve his turn. Old M. Both ! W h y , you young Dog, d'ye banter me? -- Come, Sir, take your choice. - Duretete, you fhall have your choice too; hut Robin fhall chufe firft. Come, Sir, begin. , Weil, I a'n't the firft Son that has made his Father's Dwi lling a Bawdy-houfe let m e fee. Old M. Well! which d'ye like ? Mir. Both. Old Ad. But which will ycu marry? Mir. Neither. Old lid. Neither! • Don't make me angry now, Bob; pray don'tmake me angry. Look'e, Sirrah, if 1 don't dance at your Wedding to morrow, I fhall be very glad to cry at your Grave. Mir. That's a Bull, Father. Oid AI. A Bull! Why, how now, ungrateful Sir, did I .make thee a M a n , that thou fhou'dft make me a Beaft ? Mir. Your pardon, Sir, I only meant your Expreffion. Old M. Heark'ej Bob,t learn better Manners to your bFeaftohreer |
