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To all that I see here before me

The bottom, the top, and the middle ; Horare pe mot inplore yo No wedding without pipe and

all are intens

Pre let it be soos My heart in my boronis prancing!

Il your hands alle emite,
to give us delight
Your plaudita te refres
Your smiles are a do for a ledy:
O joy to you all in felhetene
So wishes and prey Widow Brady


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SCENE I. A room in LORD MINIkin's house. I myself yesterday morning in a hackney coach, Enter LADY MINIkin and Miss Tuttup.

with a minx in a pink cardinal; you shall abso

lutely burn yours, Tittup, for I shall never bear Lady Min. It is not, my dear, that I have the to see one of that colour again. least regard for my lord. I had no love for him, Miss Tit. Sure she does suspect me. Aside.] before I married him; and you know, matrimo- | And where was your ladyship, pray, when you uy is no breeder of affection; but it hurts my saw him? pride, that he should neglect me, and run after Lady Min. Taking the air with Colonel Tivy other women.

in his vis à vis. Miss Tit. Ha, ha, ha! how can you be so Miss Tit. But, my dear Lady Minikin, how hypocritical, Lady Minikin, as to pretend to un-can you be so angry, that my lord was hurting easiness at such trifles ? but pray, have you your pride, as you call it, in the hackney-coach, made any new discoveries of my lord's gallantry? when you had him so much in your power, in

Lady Min. New discoveries! why, I saw him the vis à vis?


my lord likes me, and I like my lord; however, I Miss Tit. No, no, no, I have no time to be not so much as he imagines, or to play the killed now; besides Lady Minikin is in the vas foul so rashly as he may expect; she must be pours, and wants you at chess, and my lord is very silly indeed, who can't flutter about the low-spirited, and wants me at picquet; my unflame, without burning her wings. What a cle is in an ill humour, and wants me to discard great revolution in this family in the space of you, and go with him into the country. fifteen months !-We went out of England, al Col. Tio. And will you, miss ? very aukwaru, regular, good English family; Miss Tit. Will I, no, I never do as I am bid : but half a year in France, and a winter passed but you ought-so, go to mylady. in the warmer climate of Italy, have ripened our Col. Tivy. Nay, but, miss minds to every refinement of ease, dissipation, Bliss Tii. Nay, but, colonel, if you won't obey and pleasure.

your commanding officer you should be broke,

and then iny maid won't accept of you; so march, Enter COLOxeL Tivy.

colonel !- lookye, sir, I will command before

marriage, and do what I please afterwards, or I Col. lirw. May I hope, madam, that your bave been well educated to very little purpose. humble servant had some share in your last re

(Erit Miss TITTUP. verie?

| Col. Tivy. What a mad devil it is !-Now, if Miss Tit. How is it possible to have the least I had the least affection for the girl, I should be knowledge of Colonel Tivy, and not make him damnably vext at this but she has a fine forthe principal object of one's reflections ?

tune, and I must have her if I can-Tol, lol, Col. Teou. That man must have very little lol. &c.

[Exit singing. feeling and taste, who is not proud of a place in the thoughts of the finest woman in Europe. I Enter Sir John TROTLEY and Davy. Miss Tit. O fye, colonel !

[Curtsies, and blushes. Sir John. Hold your tongue, Davy; you talk Col. Tidy. By my honour, madam, I mean like a fool ! what I say!

Davy. It is a fine place, your bonour, and I Miss Tit. By your honour, colonel ! why will could live here for ever. you pass off your counters to me? don't I know Sir John. More slalue for you-live here for that you tine gentlemen regard no honour but ever !-what among thieves and pickpockets ! that which is giving at the gaming table, and - What a revolution since my time! the more which indeed ought to be the only honour you I see, the more I've cause for lamentation ; should make free with?

what a dreadful change has time brought about Col. Tiry. How can you, miss, treat me so in twenty years! I should not have known cruelly? have I not absolutely forsworn dice, the place again nor the people—all the signs, mistresses, every thing, since I dared to offer that made so noble an appearance, are all myself to you?

taken down-- not a bob or tye-wig to be seen! Miss Tit. Yes, colonel; and when I dare to all the degrees, from the parade in St. James's receive you, you may return to every thing again, | Park, to the stool and brush at the corner of and not violate the laws of the present happy every street, have their hair tied up-the mamatrimonial establishment.

son laying bricks, the baker with his basket, the Col. Tiny. Give me but your consent, madam, post-boy crying newspapers, and the doctors and your life to come

prescribing physic, have all their hair tied up! Miss Tit. Do you get my consent, colonel, and that's the reason so many heads are tied up and I'll take care of my life to come.

every month. Col. Tipy. How shall I get your consent? Dary. I shall have my head tied up to-morMiss Tit. By getting me in the bumour. | row ; Mr. Wisp will do it for me-your honour Col Tio. But how to get you in the humour?' and I look like Philistines among thein.

Miss Tit, 0, there are several ways; I am Sir John. And I shall break your head, if it is very good-natured.

tied up! I hate innovations: all confusion, and Col. Tidy. Are you in the humour now? no distinction !--the streets now are as smooth Miss Tit. Try me.

as a turnpike road! po rattling and exercise in Col. Tity. How shall I ?

the hackney-coaches; those who ride in them Miss Tii. How shall I !--you a soldier, and are all fast" asleep; and they have strings in not know the art military?-how shall 11-I'll their hands, that the coachinan must pull to tell you how-when you have a subtle, treacher-wake them, when they are to be set downous politic enemy to deal with, never stand what luxury and abomination! shilly-shally, and lose your time in treaties and Dary. Is it so, your honour ?--'feckins, I like parlies, but cock your hat, draw your sword - it hugely! march, beat drum-dub, dubadub-present, fire, Sir John. But you must hate and detest Lon. piff, pauff-'tis done! they fly, they yield-Vic-don. toria! Victoria !

Running off: Davy. How can I manage that, your honour, Col. Tidy. Stay, stay, my dear, dear angel! when there is every thing to delight my eye, and

[Bringing her back. I cherish my beart?"

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