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Aura. I tell you, Sir; you must, before I dare give credit to you, serve me faithfully at least two whole months together, and then if we like one another as well as we do nowWhy, we'll settle our fortunes and our inclinations

Mode. And jog on in the road of our fathers.
Aura. Amen.

Mode. So be it.

Flora. I am sorry to hear your misfortune; in our absence, it seems, the house was robbed. [To Sir John.

Sir John. Codso! Ay, ay, a villanous story, cousin. The Duke of Gasconade lay here last night; ay, his grace did me the honour---But he was most barbarously treated. I am in hopes of catching 'em: if I do

Enter LURCHER to Sir JOHN.

Lurch. Sir, if you please, one word.

Sir John. Well, what have you to say? I am very busy. What would you have, friend?

Lurch. Had not you a man of quality lodg'd in your house last night?

Sir John. Yes, I had, Sir; and what then? what

then?

Lurch. You have a nephew.

Sir John. Ha! what!

Lurch. That man of quality was your nephew. Sir John. And you are he! Ay, 'tis so, 'tis so; why ? I am struck dumb, ay, really, quite speechlessWhy, could a man who looked so like quality, d'ye Well, well, 'tis an impudent age, a very impu

and verily thou art the most impudent fel

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by AURA, in Boy's Clothes.

CRITICS, the poet's champion here I stand ;

Lo! in his name, the combat I demand:
'Tis my opinion that the cause is good,
And I'll defend it with my heart's best blood;
I'll push you, my bold boys, the round parade,
Cart over arm, or terse, or flanconnade.
-Codso! these breeches have so fir'd my brain,
I shan't be easy till I've kill'd my man:

What! not one beau step forth to give me battle;
Where are those pretty things that used to tattle
Such tender nonsense?- -But they're all so civil
They hate a naked weapon; 'tis the devil.

-Now let me die, my dear, Sir Coxcomb cries, You want no other weapons, but your eyes.

I hate these fawning triflers, and declare Against all smock-fac'd critics open war.

Know, gentlemen, the poet's my ally,
And I'll defend him to the last, or die;
My sword is out, I'll never basely sue,
Nor sheath it while the enemy's in view;
No bribes, no tricks, no wheedling of my face,
Include us both i'th' treaty, if you please ;
But, faith, I'll never make a separate peace.

No, ye French heroes, I'll not take your word,
You'll beat a man when you have got his sword;

Ay, that's your play—I
You bully like the devil
What must we do, then?

know ye, Sirs, of old, with your gold;

And bravely, sword in hand,

-Settle plenipo's,

treat with our foes.

To you we fly, ye charitable fair,

To put an end to this dramatic war;

Your smiles will cause all hostile acts to cease,
And make a lasting, honourable peace.

De Wilde pinx!

Audinot for

M QUICK as TONYLUMPKIN. There's an M, and a T, and an Ibut whether the next be an Izzard or an R, confound mat

cannot tell.

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