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Show us in a lA The CONFEDERACY. t « . Well b u t - h a v e you brought nothing elfe? l have a Letter for you too.- f~~l [t r u u '.>o ,'r, Profr • VOU W O n t tOUCtl It. Purfe, but it s in Prole , you p//>. Yes, hang it, it is not gooa cu u 7 p i / , H O W ufeful a Virtue ,s Humd.ty Well, Ch.ld, we mall have an Anfwer to-morrow, man t w e. S I can't promife you that; for our young Gen- Flip. 1 can if / fhe wou](j be< SES'tab sa°S f/om th'e Foot to the Fore- E d of h m ) lets her feldom converfe with her Mother- S w a n me, for fear (he fhould learn> the A.rs of a W o m a n of Quality. But I'll take the firft Occafion: See there's ny Lady, go in and deUver your Letterjo her. *- SCENE, A Parlour. Enter Clariffa, follow'd by Plippanta and Brafs. Clar. N o MefTages this Morning from any body, F//>- panta > Lard, how dull that is ? O, there s Brafs : I did not fee thee, Brafs. What News doft thou bring ? Brafs. Only a Letter from Arammta, Madam. Clar. Give it me. open it for m e, Flippant a, I am fo lazy to-day. {Sitting down. Brafs to Flip.'] Be fure n o w you deliver m y Matter s as carefully as I do this. . , Flip. Don't trouble thy felf, I'm no Novice. Clar. to Bra./}. ] 'Tis well •, there needs no Anfwer, fince (he'll be here fo foon. Br*/}. Your La<tyfl«P has n 0 farther Commands then ? r _,. # Clar. Not at this time, honeft Brafs. Fhppanta / (_£## Brafs. . j/^. Madam. Ci*r. M y Husband's in love. jr/^# In Love ? C/ar. With Arammta. Flip. Impoffible ! ^ The CO NFEDERACY. I ? C/4r. This Letter from her, is to give m e an Account of it. ,. Flip. Methinks you are not very much alarm d. Clar. N o : thou know'ft I'm not much torturd with Jealoufy. . . , , F//> Nay you are much in the right on t, Madam, for Jealoufy's a City-PafTion ; 'tis a thing unknown a-monaft People of Quality. ci*r Py » A W o m a n muft indeed be of a mechanick Mould, who is either troubled or pleas'd with any thing her Husband can do to her. Prithee mention him no more ; 'tis the dulleft Theme. FUp. 'Tis fplenetick indeed. But when once you open your Baffet-Table, I hope that will put him out of your head. _r Clar. Alas, Flippanta, I begin to grow weary even or the Thoughts of that too. Flip. H o w fo ? . , Clar Why, I have thought on't a Day and a Night already* and four and twenty Hours, thou know'ft, is enouehto make one weary of any thing. vl% Now, by m y Confcience, you have more W o man in you than all your Sex together : You never know what you would have. Clar. Thou miftakeft the Thing quite. I always know what 1 lack, but I a m never pleas'd with what I have. The want of a thing is perplexing enough, but the PofTeflfion of it is intolerable. Flip Well, I don't know what you are made of, but other W o m e n would think themfelves bleft in vour Cafe ; handfome, witty, lov'd by every body andI or fo happy a Compofure to care a Fig for no body. You have no one Palfion, but that of your Pleafures •, and vou have in m e a Servant devoted to all your Defires, let them be as extravagant as they will ; Yet all this is nothing ', you can ftill be out of Humour. Clar. Ala?, I have but too much Caufe. Flip.' W h y , what have you to complain of? Clar. Alas, I have more Subjects for Spleen than one: Is it not a raoft horrible thing that I fhould be but a - -- - Scriveners |