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_Mar._ But I had rather see one dear Player than all the Poets in the Kingdom.
_Calis._ Good Gad! That you shou'd be in Love with an Old Man!
_Mar._ He is so with me; and you'll grant 'tis a harder Task to Re-kindle dying Coals, than set Tinder on a Blaze.
Mr. _Wellf._ I guess the Spark. But why then is your Play at this House?
_Mar._ I thought you had known 't had been an _Opera_; and such an _Opera_! But I wont talk on't, 'till you see it. Mrs. _Wellfed_, is not your Lodgings often fill'd with the Cabals of Poets and Judges?
Mr. _Wellf._ Faith, Madam, I'll not tell a Lye for the matter; they never do me the Honour.
_Mar._ I thought so, when I ask'd her. [_Aside to_ Calista.
Mr. _Wellf._ My Brats are forc'd to appear of my own raising.
_Mar._ Nay, Mrs. _Wellfed_, they don't come to others to a.s.sist, but admire.
_Pat._ Madam, Mr. _Aw'dwell_ and Mr. _Praiseall_ are below.
_Mar._ Dear Ladies, step in with me, whilst I put on my Mantua: Bring 'em up, and then come to me.----What does that _Aw'dwell_ here again to Day? Did not I do him the Honour to go abroad with him yesterday? Sure that's enough for his Trifle of a Scarf. Come Ladies. _That Ramping G.o.d shall learn of me to Love._ [Exeunt.
_Enter Mr._ Aw'dwell _and Mr._ Praiseall.
Mr. _Aw'dw._ So, Mr. _Praiseall_, you are come, I suppose, to pay your Tribute of Encomiums to the Fair Lady and her Works.
Mr. _Prais._ The Lady sometimes does me the Honour to Communicate; my poor Abilities are at her Service, tho' I own my self weak.
_Aw'dw._ Then you are not fit for the Ladies Service, to my Knowledge.
_Prais._ Why, Sir? I was long an _Oxonion_, 'till a good Estate and the Practice of the Law, tempted me from my studies.
_Aw'dw._ Sir, I'll tell you my Opinion of the University Students: They are commonly as dull as they are dirty, and their Conversation is as wretched as their Feeding; yet every Man thinks his Parts unquestionable, if he has been at _Oxford_.----Now all the Observation I have made of _Oxford_, is, it's a good Place to improve Beggars, and to spoil Gentlemen, to make young Master vain, and think no Body has Wit but himself.
_Prais._ While the Lady has more complaisant Sentiments, yours shan't disturb me, Sir, I a.s.sure you.
_Aw'dw._ What is't bewitches me to _Marsilia_! I know her a Coquet; I know her vain and ungrateful; yet, wise as _Almanzor_, knowing all this, I still love on! [_Aside._
_Prais._ I wish _Marsilia_ wou'd come! That fellow looks as if he had a Mind to quarrel. I hate the sight of a bent Brow in a Morning; I am always unlucky the whole Day after.
_Aw'dw._ Oh, one thing more of your Darling _Oxford_. You know, if you get Learning, it robs Man of his n.o.blest Part, Courage. This your mighty Bard, by Experience owns, the Learned are Cowards by Profession. Do you feel any of your Martial Heat returns?
_Prais._ Ay, he will quarrel, I find.----[_Aside._ Sir, I was never taught to practice Feats of Arms in a Lady's Anti-Chamber.
_Aw'dw._ The Fool's afraid: Yet shall I have the Pleasure to see _Marsilia_ prefer this Fop to me before my Face. [_Exit._
_Enter_ Marsilia, Calista, _and Mrs._ Wellfed.
_Mars._ I must beg your Learned Ladyship's Pardon. _Aristotle_ never said such a Word, upon my Credit.----_Patty_, What an Air these Pinners have_?_ Pull 'em more behind.----Oh my Stars, she has pull'd my Head-cloaths off!
_Calist._ I cannot but re-mind you, Madam, you are mistaken; for I read _Aristotle_ in his own Language: The Translation may alter the Expression.
_Aw'dw._ Oh that I cou'd but Conjure up the Old Philosopher, to hear these Women pull him in pieces!
_Mar._ Nay, Madam, if you are resolv'd to have the last Word, I ha'
done; for I am no lover of Words, upon my Credit.
_Prais._ I am glad to hear her say sh'as done, for I dare not interrupt her.--Madam, your Ladyship's most humble.----
_Mars._ Mr. _Praiseall_, Yours.
_Prais._ Charming _Calista_, I kiss those enchanting Fingers.
_Mars._ Humph! That might ha' been said to me more properly. [_Aside._
_Prais._ Mrs. _Wellfed_, tho' last, not least.
Mrs. _Wellf._ That's right, Mr. _Praiseall_.
_Prais._ In Love, I meant, Mrs. _Wellfed_.
Mr. _Wellf._ Prethee, add _Good Tribonus_, don't steal by halves, Mr.
_Praiseall_.
_Prais._ Lord, you are so quick!
_Mar._ Well, you are come to go with us to the Rehearsal.
_Prais._ 'Tis a pleasing Duty, Madam, to wait on your Ladyship: But then to hear the wondrous Product of your Brain, is such a Happiness, I only want some of _Marsilia_'s Eloquence to express it.
_Aw'dw._ How this Flattery transports her! Swells her Pride almost to bursting. [_Aside._
_Mars._ I do avow, Mr. _Praiseall_, you are the most complaisant Man of the Age.
_Aw'dw._ Are you yet at Leisure, Madam, to tell me how you do?
_Mars._ You see my Engagements, and have chosen a very busie Time to ask such an insignificant Question.
_Aw'dw._ What, it wants a Courtly Phrase?
_Mars._ Must I meet with nothing but interruption? Mr. _Praiseall_!
_Prais._ Madam?
_Mars._ I think I have not seen you these two Days.
_Prais._ So long I've liv'd in _Greenland_, seen no Sun, not felt no warmth.
_Mars._ Heav'ns! Mr. _Praiseall_, why don't you write? Words like those ought to be preserv'd in Characters indelible, not lost in Air.