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Enter FREEHOLD, and two Threshers, who run up to

Modely, disarm and seize him. Free. Ah, ware haunches, ware haunches !--'There---So; S0; the hunt is safe. [Exit Aura.] What vicious cur is this, poaching by himself? What, my good friend, Mr. Modely? Why, thou art"a very impudent fellow. What canst thou say for thyself now, ha?

Mode. Say! why, I say your kinswoman here was very uncivil, and all that.

Free. You would have been too civil, and all that. Come, tring him along; he shall have a fair race for it. Our moat, Sir, is somewhat wide, but not very clear; now, if you can out-run, and out-swim Towser, I believe you'll not make a hunting-seat of my house again in haste.

Mode. Consider, Sir, you were once a gentleman yourself.

« Free. Sentence is passed ; don't trouble the « court; I'll hear nothing. You're an idle fellow, " that stroll about the country pilfering of maiden56 heads. What, did I not catch you in the fact, *6 ha? But that I have a decent regard for posterity, * I would have cut away the only credentials you 4" have of humanity, and made a walking sign of

you.”

Mode. Sir, I am a gentleman, and expect to be so used.

Free. How

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now,

Mode. Take off your bull-dogs; let me speak one word with you alone, and I'll tell you.

Free. Come on, Sir; I'll trust you ; I'll give you more credit than you deserve. Do you hear, stay without, that you may be ready when I call. [Exeunt country fellows.] Well, Sir, what have you to say

why sentence should not pass ? Mode. Say! why, I say, Sir, that what I did was according to the common law; that the common law is custom, and that it has been the custom, time out mind, for us young fellows, whose blood flows briskly, to use no ceremony with a wholesome cherry-cheek, whether on haycock, meadow, barn, or bed.

Free. Extremely well! and so you would have knocked her down, and ravished her.

Mode. A little agreeable force is absolutely necessary; it saves the woman's honour, and gives such an edge to the appetite

Free. Ay. And so, having finished this honourable affair, that is, having robbed the poor girl of all that could be dear or valuable, having dishonoured her, disgraced yourself, and done an irreparable wrong; why, you could have hummed a tune, taken a pinch of snuff, sat down perfectly satisfied in the probity of the action, and have reconciled yourself to your own reflections with as much ease as you drink a dish of tea. What provokes you to this injustice ?

Mode. Love, love and joy, old wormwood. I have made a league with my youth, to get the better of

time; I have fast hold of his forelock, and won't let
a moment pass without enjoyment.

Impatient sense, and nature dies,
And love a second life supplies.
Gentle boy, then fill my cup,
A bumper, Cupid, fill it up
With youth, and wit, and noble fires,

Vigorous health, and young desires.
<< Free. Humph!---a poetical fop too. But let me
“ tell you, friend, you mistake your passion; 'tis
« not love, but lust. Love is a generous volunteer,
“ lust a mercenary slave ; love is a court of honour
" in the heart, but what you call love is only a scan-
“ dalous itching, a rebellion in the blood.

Mode. I don't know what you would have by “ love and desire ; I think they are only different « words for the same meaning. Liking begets love, o love desire, desire rage, and rage rapture."

Free. This fellow's in a blaze ; his blood has set him all on fire.

Mode. I love the whole sex, Sir; the beautiful I adore as angels; the ugly, as Indians do the devil, for fear;, the witty persuade me, the innocent allure me, the proud raise my ambition, and the humble my charity; the coquette shews me a pleasing chase, the false virtue of the prude gives oil to my flame, and the good-natured girl quenches it. There's a pleasure in pursuing those that fly, and 'tis cowardly not to meet the fair one that advances. Say what you will, I am in love, in love, old boy, from head to

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foot; I am Cupid's butt, and stand ready to receive his whole quiver.

Free. I'll tell thee what thou art; thou art a romance finely bound and gilt, and thy inside is full of silly love and lies, senseless and showish.'

Mode. And thou art a satire, as the title says, against vice and immorality; “ but thy inside con“ tains a weak indulgence only to the overflowings “ of a rank gall, full of ill-nature and pride. Yet « art thou silly enough to think virtue consists in “ railing against vice, like those jilts, who think “ they cover their own infamy, by abusing other

women.

Free. Well said ! now, thou aimest at truth, I " like thee.

Mode. Good-nature only ought to be the test of “ good sense, as a man proves his faith by his cha

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Free. Well, then, my faith is, that thou art a “ modern whoremaster, that is, a villain ; and I have “ charity enough to tell thee so.

Mode. You mistake your humour for your vir“ tue, and fancy, because you are a cynic, you're a “ philosopher too. Pr’ythee, polish thyself, my “ dear rough diamond.” What, I think thou art the sourest old fellow that ever I met with. You invite a man to your house here, and then deny him the only tit-bit he has a mind to.

Free. You have broke every social virtue, and yet

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impudently imagine you are in the character of a gentleman.

Mode. How, Sir! you grow scurrilous. [Going.

Free. Nay, you shall hear me, or I'll recall my myrmidons; they wait my word, you know. A gentle. man ought not to dare to think of doing wrong to any. His love, his friendship, his courage, his generosity, his religion, his word and his honour, should be inviolably bound to the strict laws of virtue.

Mode. This may be the picture of a saint; but for the character of a fine gentleman, 'tis as unlike it, my dear

Free. As you are. Your love is lust, your friends ship interest, your courage brutal butchery, your bounty usury, your religion hypocrisy, your word a lie, and your honour a jest.

Mode. Ha, ha! very concise and smart; but I take nothing ill of thee. Thou art like a frosty morning, sharp and wholesome. Dear Sir, your most obedient servant ; you see I have stood your Jobation very patiently. And so, compliments being passed on both sides, I humbly take my leave.

Free. Hold, Sir, I demand satisfaction for the wrong you have done my family.

Mode. With all my heart, old boy; your time, place, and weapons. Will you use seconds ?

Free. Ay, and thirds too, if you provoke me. Look ye, friend, according to the justest sentiments I can form of this affair, you ought to be knocked o'the head, extinguished for the good of society, as

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