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Show 22 The Inconftant : Or, Old Ad. And what then ! 'Tis the way with young Fellows to flight old Gentlemen's words, you never mind 'em when you ought. I fay, that Bob's an honeft Fellow, and who dares deny it ? Enter Bifarre. Bif That dare I,Sir: - - I fay, that your Son is a wild, foppifh, whimfical, impertinent Coxcomb; and were I abus'd as this Gentleman's Sifter, I wou'd make it an Italian Quarrel, and poifon the whole Family. Dug. Come , Sir, 'tis no time for trifling, rny Sifter is abus'd; you are made fenfible of the Affront, and your Honour is concern'd to fee her redrefs'd. Old M. Look'e, Mr. Dugard, good words go fartheft. I will do your Sifter juftice, but it muft be after m y own rate, no body muft abufe m y Son but m y felf. For altho' Robin be a fad Dog, yet he's no body's Puppy but m y own. Bif. Ay, that's m y fweet-natur'd, kind old Gentleman. - [Wheedling him.] W e will be good then, if you'll join with us in the Plot. Old At. Ah, you coaxing young Baggage, what Plot can you have to wheedle a Fellow of Sixty three ? Bif. A Plot that Sixty three is only good for, to brjng other People together, Sir ; and you muft act the Spaniard, 'caufe your Son will leaft fufpecf you; and if he fhou'd, your Authority protects you from a Quarrel, to which Oriana is unwilling to expofe her Brother. Old AI. A n d what part will you act in the bufinefs, M a dam ? Bif. M y felf, Sir; m y Friend is grown a perfect Changling: thefe foolifh Hearts of ours fpoil our Heads prefently : the Fellows no fooner turn Knaves, but w e turn Fools: But I am ftill m y felf, and he may expect the moft fevere Ufage from me, 'caufe I neither love him, nor hate him. [Exit. Old AI. Well faid, Mrs. Paradox; but, Sir, w h o muft open the matter to him ? Dug. Petit, Sir, w h o is our Engineer General. And here he comes. Enter Petit. Pet. O Sir, moreDifcoveries ; are all Friends about us? Dug. Ay, ay, fpeak freely. Pet. You muft know, Sir od's m y Life, I'm out of Breath ; you muft know. Sir you muft know Old Al. What the Devil muft w e know. Sir ? youPre tS.o nTsh aStec Ire htaarvye o[fP Satnattse ,a nd Blows.] brib'd, Sir, bribO'dl d |