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Show The Way to win him. P For often, "when our chief Perfections fail, Our chief Defells with foolifh Men prevail. Pet. Come, Mr. Dugard, take Courage, there is a way ftill left to fetch him again. Old M. Sir, I'll have no Plot that has any Relation to Spain. Dug. I fcorn all Artifice whatfoever; m y Sword fhall do her Jutlice. Pet. Pretty Juftice, truly! Suppofe you run him thro' the Body ; you run her thro' the Heart at the fame time. Old M. And m e thro' the Head rot your Sword, Sir, we'll have Plots; come, Petit, let's hear. Pet. W h a t if fhe pretended to go into a Nunnery, and fo bring him about to declare himfelf. Dug. That, I muft confefs, has a Face. Old Ai. Face! A Face like an Angel, Sir. Ads m y Life, Sir, 'tis the moft beautiful Plot in Chriftendom. We'll about it immediately. (Exeunt. S C E N E, the Street. Duretete and Mirabel. Dur. [In a Paffion.] A n d tho' I can't dance, nor fing, nor talk like you, yet I can fight, you know, Sir. Mir. I know thou canft, M a n. Dur. 'Sdeafh, Sir, and I will: Let m e fee the proudeft M a n alive make a Jeft of m e ! Mir. But I'll engage to make you amends. Dur. Danc'd to Death! Baited like a Bear! Ridicul'd! threaten'd to be kick'd ! Confufion. Sir, you fet me on, and I will have Satisfaction, all Mankind will point at me. Mir. [Afide.] I muft give this Thunderbolt fome Paffage, or 'twill break upon m y o w n Head -Looke, Duretete, what do thefe Gentlemen laugh at f Enter two Gentlemen. Dur. At me to be fure Sir, what made you laugh at me? i Gen. You're miftaken, Sir, if we were merry we had a private reafon. 2 Gen. Sir, we don't know you: Dur. Sir, I'll make you know me; mark and obferve me, I won't be nam'd, it fhan't be mention'd, not even whif- R 3 per'd 29 (Exit. |