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Show The Way to win him. 25 "Bif. Converfe with Imps of Darknefs of your make, your Nature ftarts at Juftice, and fhivers at the touch of Vertue. N o w the Devil take his Impudence, he vexes m e fo, I don't know whether to cry or laugh at him. Aiir. Bravely perform'd, m y dear Lybian; I'll write the lragedy of Dido, and you fhall act the Part: but you do nothing at all, unlets you fret your felf into a Fit; for here the poor Lady is fhfled with Vapours, drops into the Arms of her Maids, and the cruel, barbarous, deceitful Wanderer, is in the very next line cali'd Pioitt zAzncas, • There's A u thority fojt ye. Sorry indeed zAZncas flood To fee her in a Pout ; But Jove himfelf, w h o ne'er thought good T o ftay a fecond bout, Commands him off, with all his Crew, A n d leaves poor Dy, as I leave you. [Runs ofi 4 Bif'£°thy ways *°r a dear> m a d > deceitful, agreeable Fellow. O' m y Confcience I muft excufe Oriana. That Lover foon his Angry Fair difarms, .Who flighting pleafes, and whofe Faults are Charms. Enter Petit, runs about to every door, and knocks. Pet. Mr. Adirabel, Sir, where are you ? no where to 6'e Found ? Enter Mirabel. Mir. What's the matter, Petit * Pet. Moft critically met. Ah, Sir, that one who ha* follow'd the G a m e fo long, and brought the poor Hare juft inW der his Paws, fhou'd let a Mimgril Cur chop in, and run: away with the Pufs. Mir. If your Worfhip can get out of your Allegories, be pleas'd to tell m e in three words what you mean. Pet. Plain, plain, Sir, Your Miftrefs and mine is going to toe marry'd. Mir. I believe you lie, Sir. Pet. Your humbleTervant, Sir. {Going, Mir. Come hither, Petit. Marry'd! fay you' ? Fet. N o , Sir, 'tis riff matter; 1 only thought to do you sr Service, but I fhall take care how I confer m y Favours for the future. Mir. Sir, 1 beg you Ten thoufand Pardon?.' [Bomnglcvp. Pet. 'Tis enough, Sir. I come to tell you, Sir, that Oriana is this moment to be facrific'd; marry'd paft re-*' 4emptiont Rj Mir< |