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Sparr. With perfect wonder! Do you know, friend Fidget, it may be fancy, perhaps; for we lovers are apt to be whimsical; but your daughter appeared to me higher on one side than the other,

Just. F. What ?

Sparr. I thought, when she left me, she waddled away like a lame duck out of the alley.

Just. F. A lame duck! Why, then, you're a goose for thinking so. Nature never form’d a more exact symmetry. She is, as my wife used to say, a perfect model of the Venus - what dy’e call her there.

Sparr. Why, she does in some respects resemble a statue.

Just. F. A statue ! Oh, you think the girl hasn't life enough?

Sparr. Just so. What an impudent rascal it is !

Just. F. A little more animation, you think, would become her?

Sparr. I do, upon my soul.

Just. F. Maiden coyness - mere maiden coyness. Marry her, only marry her, and you'll find her flesh and blood all over, I warrant.

Sparr. Indeed! What, sound wind and limb, eh ?

Just. F. Perfectly.
Sparr. To be free with you, I doubt it.
Just. F. The devil you do!

Sparr. I think there's here and there a limb that would require a touch of the Promethean torch. But to be serious, for I find you won't take a hint- what mark of stupidity do you see about me, to lead you to suppose I shall be bamboozled into this marriage ?

Just. F. Bamboozled ! what d'ye mean?

Sparr. Not to marry a woman who climbs pear trees.

Just. F. Pear trees! How — when - where ?
Sparr. You really don't understand me?
Just. F. Not a syllable.

Sparr. Why, then, as there's a private reason why I can't marry your daughter, take my advice, and make the best of the matter, by giving her to the corkcutter.

Just. F. The cork-cutter! Mercy on me, what can he mean?

AIR 8th. Sparr. I could marry a witch, if, like Midas of old, The first time I touch'd her, she'd turn into gold; For tho’she were homely, 'tis odds but she'd be To Venus as like, as Adonis to me.


Whatever her age, for content there is scope:
If young she gives rapture, if old she gives hope:
And her soft roguish glances, for current shall pass,
Tho' I know one at least of her sparklers is glass.

III. Tho' the lily ne'er bloom’d on her cheek, and the rose, Finds its only delight on the tip of her nose; Yet I'd wed the dear creature, and pocket her pelf, But a leg made of cork — is the devil itself. [Exit.

Just. F. (solus) Climbing pear trees ! leg made of cork !- mad, certainly mad; mad as a march hare, or a poet in love.


Enter Constant from the Closet. Cons. Here's a discovery! she never even hinted at this accident in any of her letters to me; but no matter, her treachery is evident, and it is my duty to forget her.

AIR 9th.
'Tis fixt; I disdain
Of my fate to complain,
Tho' the trial I prove is severe ;
'Tis better to know,
The full measure of woe,
Than to live on the rack of despair :

Come, pride bring me back my soft hours of rest,
Whilst I blush for the pangs I endure;
Oblivion, erase her false form from my breast,
And scorn and contempt be my cure. [Exit.

Scene, the Village.
Enter CARELESS with his gun, he sings the following

AIR 10th.
When smoke upwreaths from humble cots,

And milkmaids fill their pails,
And nature's dewy robe of green,

The breath of morn exhales: .
When o'er the mist emerging hill,

The rosy sunbeams play,
And twinkle in the lucid drops,

Which gem the hawthorn spray :

Th' impatient pointers we unbind,
Eager and panting from their den,
O’er stubble-field, and heath and fen,
They sweep the dew and snuff the wind,
See Nero draw upon the game,

With fearful step and slow,
And Sancho, jealous of his fame,

His speed at once command.
To ho! To ho! To ho !
Now fixt as death, they stand:

On whirring wings

The covey springs,
The leaden volley flies,

And one decreed,

By fate to breed,
Flutters in air, and dies.

Enter GRACE. Gra. Oh, sir, is it you ? I've been looking for you all over the village.

Carel. Indeed – is there any thing I can do for you? Gra. Yes sir, there is a business, which if I could take so great a liberty with a stranger, - Carel. Nay then, speak boldly; for the greatest liberty you can take with me, is to make me a stranger.

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