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Show The Twin-Rivals. Si Y. W. Our Sex, Madam, make much better Lovers than Husbands; and I think it highly unreafonable, that you fhould put your felf in m y power, when you canfo abfolute-ly keep m e in yours. Con. N o , m y Lord, we never truly command till we have given our promife to obey; and we are never in more danger of being made Slaves, than when we have 'em at our Feet. Y. W. True, Madam, the greateft Empires are in moft danger of falling; but it is better to be abfolute there, than to act by a Prerogative that's confin'd. Gn. Well, well, m y Lord, I like the Conftitution we live under ; I'm for a limited Power, or none at all. Y. W. You have fo much the Heart of the Subject, Madam, that you may rule as you pleafe; but you have weak pretences to a limited Sway, where your Eyes have already play'd the Tyrant. 1 think one Privilege of the People is to kifs their Sovereign's Hand. ( Taking her Hand. Con. Not till they have taken the Oaths, m y Lord; and he that refutes them in the Form the L a w prefcribes, is, I think, no better than a Rebel. Y. W. By Shrines r.nd Altars, (Kneeling.) by all that you think juft, and I hold good, by this (Taking her Hand'*) the faireft, and the deareft V o w ( Kiffmgher Hand. Con. Fie, m y Lord, m ( Seemingly yielding. Y. W. Your Eyes are mine, they bring me Tidings from your Heart, that this Night I fhall be happy. Con. Wou'd not youdefpife a Conqueft fo eafily gain'd ? Y. W. Yours will be the Conqueft, and I fhall defpife all the World but you. Con. But will you promife to make no Attempts upon my Honour. Y. W. That's foolifh: ( AfAe.) Not Angels fent on Mcf-fages to Earth, fhall vifit with more Innocence. (Exit. Con, Ay, ay, to be fure. (Afide.) M y Lord, I'll fend one to conduct you. Y.W. Ha, ha, ha; no Attempts upon her Honour! When I can find the place where it lies, 111 tell her more of m y mind. Now do I feel ten thoufand Cupids tickling me all over with the Points of their Arrows. •Where's my Deformity no w ? I have read fomew here thefe Li ncs : Tho' Nature cafl me in a rugged Mould, Since Fate has chang'd the Bullion into Gold: Cupid returns, breaks all his Shafts of Lead, And tips each Arrotv with a Golden Head. „','«, £ 4 Feather d |
