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Show Love and a Bottle, 35 Jow obferve, Mr. Pamphlet; pray obferve. Like Razors keen, our Knives cut Paffage clean Through Rills of Fat, and Deluges of Lean. Pam. Very well, upon m y Soul. Lyr. Hurl'd dreadful Fire and Vinegar infus'd. Pam. Ay, Sir, Vinegar ! how patly that comes in for the >eef, Mr. Lyrick ! 'Tis all wondrous fine indeed. Lyr. This is the moft ingenious Fellow of his Trade that I lave feen ; he underftands a good thing.- (Afide.) - B u t as 0 our Bus'nefs.-What are you willing to give for thefe Poms ! Prithee fay fomething. There are about three thou-and Lines. Here, take 'em for a couple of Guineas. Pam. N o , Sir; Paper is fo exceffive dear, that I dare not enture upon 'em. Lyr. Well, becaufe you're a Friend, I'll beftow 'em upon 'ou. Here, take 'em all.-There's the hopes of a Dedica-ion ftill. (Afide. Pam. I give you a thoufand Thanks, Sir ; but I dare not enture the hazard; they'll ne'er quit coft indeed, Sir. Lyr. This Fellow is one of the greateft Blockheads that ver was Member of a Corporation. How fhall I be eveng'd ? Enter Boy. Boy. Sir, there are two M e n below deftre to have the Ho-lour of kilfing your hand. Lyr. They muft be Knaves or Fools, by their fulfome C o m plement. Hark ye-(Whijpers the Boy.)-Bid 'em walk up. Pam. Since you have got Company, Sir, I'll take my -eave. i Lyr. N o , no, Mi. Pamphlet, by no means! W e muft drink before w e part. Boy, a Pint of Sack and a Toaft. Thefe re two Gentlemen out of the Country, w h o will be for all -he new things lately publifh'd; they'll be good Cuftomers-1 ]ome, fit down You have not feen m y Play yet ? &re take the Pen, and if you fee any thing amifs, correct it; '11 go bring 'em up. Stay, lend m e your Hat and Wig, >r I fhall take cold going down Stairs. (He takes Pamphlet'* Hat and Wig, and puts his Cap on Pamphlet'* Head. Pam. (Solus.) This is a right Poetical Cap; 'tis Bays the iutfides and the Lining Fuftian. (Reading.) This is ill Stuff, worfe than his Poems. Enter two Bailiffs behind him, and clap him on the Shoulder. 1 Bail. Sir, you're the King's Prifoner. vljonPna'a itms ,i vn etrTeyhr arwtue'plstl am l ega,oi doI.d ' Fma innc tyh ee bneofutg hSc,e Mner.. Lyri1c gka.d Btuhte2 DpBrraaaiy-l . |