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Show The Way to win him. 23 Old M. Secretary of State! who's that, for Heaven's fake? Pet. His Valet-de- Chambre, Sir: You muft know, Sir, that the Intrigue lay folded up with his Matter's Cloaths, and when he went to duft theEmbroider'd Suit, the Secret flew out of the right Pocket of his Coat* in a whole fvvarm of your Crambo Songs, fhort-footed Odes, and long-legg'd Pindaricks. Old M. ImpoflTible! Pet. Ah, Sir, he has lov'd her all along; there was Oriana in every Line, but he hates Marriage : N o w , Sir; this Plot will ftir up his Jealoufie, and we fhall know by the ftrength of that how to proceed farther. Come, Sir, let's about it with fpeed. Tis Expedition gives our King the fway; For Expedition too the French give way; Swift to attack, or fwift to run away. [Exeunt. Enter Mirabel and Bifarre, gaffing carelefly by one another. Bif. [Afide.] I wonder what fhe can fee in this Fellow to v like him ? Mir. [Afde.] I wonder what m y Friend can fee in thi$ Girl to admire her ? Bif. [Afide.] A wild, foppifh, extravagant Rakehel. Aiir. [Afide.] A light, whimfical, impertinent Mad-cap. Bif. W horn do you mean, Sir ? Mir. W h o m do you mean, M a d a m ? Bif. A Fellow that has nothing left to re-eftablifh him for a humane Creature, but a prudent Refolution to hang himfelf. Mir. There is a way, Madam, to force m e to that Refolution. Bif. I'll do't with all m y Heart. Aiir. Then you muft marry me. Bif. Look'e, Sir, don't think your ill Manners to mc fhall excule your ill Ufage of m y Friend ; nor by fixing a Quarrel here, to divert m y zeal for the abfent: for I'm refolv'd, nay, I come prepar'd to make you a Panegyrick, that fhall morti-fie your Pride like any Modern Dedication. Mir. And I, M a d a m , like a true Modern Patron, fhall hardly give you thanks for your trouble. Bif. Come, Sir, to let you fee what little Foundation you have for your dear fufriciency, I'll take you to pieces. Mir. And what piece will you chufe ? Bif. Your Heart, to be fure, 'caufe 1 fhou'd get prefently rid on't; your Courage 1 wou'd give to a Hector, your Wit to a lewd |
