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Show 3 6 The Inconftant: Or, Old M. I fay fhe's a Counterfeit, and you may be anr> ther for ought I know, Sir; I have loft m y Child by thefe Tricks, Sir. Aiir. W h a t Tricks, Sir? Old M. By a pretended Trick, Sir. A Contrivance to bring m y Son to Reafon, and it has made him ftarkmad; I have loft him, and a thoufand Pound a Year. Mir. (Difcovering himfelf.) M y dear Father, I'm your moft humble Servant. ' Old M. M y dear Boy, (Runs and kijfes him.) Welcome. Ex lnferis, m y dear Boy, 'tis all a Trick, fhe's no more a Nun than I am. Mir. No ? Old M. The Devil a bit. Mir. Then kifs m e again, m y dear Dad, for the moft happy News. And now moft venerable hply Sifter, (Kneels. Tour Mercy and your Pardon 1 implore, For the Offence of asking it before. Look'e, my dear counterfeiting Nun, take my Advice, be a N u n in good earneft; W o m e n make the beft Nuns always when they can't do otherwife. Ah, m y dear Father, there is a Merit in your Son's Behaviour that you little think; the free Deportment of fuch Fellows as I, makes more Ladies Religious, than all the Pulpits in France. Ori+Ol Sir, how unhappilly have'you deftroy'd what was fo near Per/ection! He is the Counterfeit that has de-ceiv'd you. Old M. H a ! Look'e, Sir, I recant, fhe is a Nun. Mir. Sir, your humble Servant, then I'm a Fryar this Moment. Old M. W a s ever an old Fool fo banter'd by a Brace o' young ones; hang you both, you're both Counterfeits, and m y Plot's fpcil'd, that's all. Ori. Shame and Confufion, Love, Anger, and Difap-pointment, will work m y Brain to Madnefs. (Throws off her Habit. Exit. Mir. Ay, ay, throw by the Rags, they have lerv'd a turn for us both, and they fhall e'en go off together. (Takeoff hie Hatyf, Thus the fick Wretch, when torturd by his Pain, And finding all Effays for Life are vain; When |