OCR Text |
Show The Twin-Rivals. 47 be me Shoule I {hehisFaaceyonder,peepingtroo the Iron Glafh [Window. . Con. I'll fee him, tho' a Dungeon were his Confinement. ( Runs out. Tea. A h • auld kindnefh, be m e Shoule, cannot be forgotten. Now, if m y Maifhter had but Grafh enough to get her wit Child, her word wou'd go'for two; and fhe wou'd bail him and I bote. ( Exit. SCENE, A Room miferably furnifhed , E. W. fitting and writing. o E. W. The Tow'r confines the Great, The Spunging-houfe the Poor: Thus there are degrees of State That evn the Wretched muft endure. Virgil, tho cherifh'd in Courts, Relates but a fpleenatick Tale, Cervantes Revels, and Sports, 'Altho' he writ in a Jail. Then hang Reflections, (Starts up.) I'll go write a Comedy. Ho, within there: Tell the Lieutenant of the Tower that I would fpeak with him. Enter Conftable. S Conft. Ay, ay, the M a n is m a d : Lieutenant o'th' Tower! Ha, ha, ha ; wou'd you cou'd make your Words good, Mafter. E. W. W h y ? A m not I a Prifoner there ? I know it by the ftately Apartments. > What is that, pray, that hang; ftrearning down upon the Wall yonder ? Con. Yonder! 'tis Cobweb, Sir. E. W. Tis falfe, Sir; 'tis as fine Tapeftry as any in Europe. Con'. The Devil it is. E. IF. Then your Damask Bed, here; the Flowers are fo bold, I took 'em for Embroidery ; and then the Head-work! Point de Venice, I proteft. Con. As good Kulderminfter as any in England, I muft c:>r.7 fefs; and tho' the Sheets be .1 little ioild, yetlcan'afTureyou, Sir, that many an honeft Gentleman has lain in them. • E, W. Pray, Sir, what did thofe two India;ilyk^s Ci a, that are fixt up in the corner of the Room .' Con. Indian Pieces! What tfae Devil, Sir, they arc 5ld lack-Boots, m y Militia Boots, ' |