_Enter Mrs_. Lovejoy.
Mrs. _Lov_. Here do I follow and caress my Lady, in hopes to steal a Spark
'mongst her Admirers; I have five hundred Pounds in the fourteen _per
Cent_, a Gentlewoman's Fortune in past Ages, but now 'twon't buy a
Haberdasher of small Ware. Sir _Harry_ offers me a genteel Settlement;
Time was, when a kept Madam elbow'd the whole Drawing-Room; but now we
have a virtuous Court agen, a Lord's Mistress is almost as despicable as a
Citizen's Wife.--Suppose I trick the Collonel into Marriage--To bridle at
a Review in _Hyde-Park_, have rich Plunder brought me from _Flanders_, and
boast in Company how much my Husband ballances the Pow'r of _Europe_; but
then comes Peace, and Half-pay, and the Brigadier's Lady must condescend
to dress Heads, make Mantoes, or vainly feed her Pride, by personating
what she really was on the most renown'd _Drury-Lane Theatre_.--Suppose I
rail at the Government, and so trap the rich Major; but then he's trapt in
a Plot, some poor Lord begs his Estate, and I'm to live upon the mighty
Comfort of having it again when the Pretender comes--Or what if I wheedle
in with Mr. _Nick-nack_--To have a fine House in _Billiter-Lane_,
prodigious great Dinners, and ready Cash for Play. And, faith, now-a-days,
a rich Merchant's Wife keeps as late Hours, Games as high, and makes as
bulky a Figure as e'er a Dutchess in the two united Kingdoms.
_Enter Sir_ Harry.
Sir _Har_. How kind this was, my dear, pretty Mrs. _Lovejoy_, to leave so
much good Company to meet me here alone.
Mrs. _Lov_. How kind you are to your self Sir _Harry_, in harbouring so
ridiculous a Notion.
Sir _Har_. Are you resolv'd then, Madam, to let this gay, this proper
well-set Person o' mine pine away like a green Sickness Girl, when I have
so generously offer'd you two hundred Pound a Year, only to be a little
whimsical with you.
Mrs. _Lov_. Two hundred a year! wou'd you make a Whore of me Sir _Harry_?
Sir _Har_. A Whore! have a care, Child, who you reflect upon, a Lady of
two hundred a Year, a Whore; Whores are Creatures that wear Pattens and
Straw-hats. I'd fain hear any body call a kept Mistress, Whore, while
there's Law to be had, if I were she, I'd make 'em severely pay for't.
Mrs. _Lov_. But pray, Sir _Harry_, where's the Difference between a common
Woman, and one that's kept; they have equally lost their Reputation, and
no body of any Character will visit 'em.
Sir _Har_. Visit 'em! Ladies of different Orders shou'd converse amongst
themselves, I know a Set of kept Mistresses that visit one another with
all the Ceremony of Countesses, take place of one another according to the
Degree of their Keepers, are call'd to one another's Labours, and live in
perfect Sister-hood like the _Grand Seignor's Seraglio_; two of 'em indeed
had a violent Quarrel t'other day, but 'twas only about State Affairs, one
happening to be a Whig, and t'other a Tory.
Mrs. _Lov_. Good Sir _Harry_, what have you seen so loose in my Behaviour
to attack me at this rate?
Sir _Har_. Why, look you, Child, do'st thee consider what an Income two
hundred a Year is; some Country Gentlemen han't more to make their Elder
Sons Esquires, and raise Portions for eleven awkard Daughters. Besides,
my Dear, thou art but a whiffling sort of a Pinnace, I have been proffer'd
lovely, large, First Rate Ladies for half the Mony. There's _Winny
Wag-tail_ in _Channel Row_, wou'd have left it to my Generosity; Mrs.
_Tippet_ the Furrier's Wife in _Walbrook_ wou'd have taken five hundred
Pound down, and _Sufan Sigh-fort_ the quaking Sempstress had n't the
Assurance to ask me above the rent of her Shop.----I must tell you, Love,
the Nation's over stock'd with Women, I can have a hundred and fifty
Furbuloe Scarf-makers for as many Silver Thimbles; and but last Long
Vacation, a very considerable Pleader offer'd me his two Daughters for Six
and Eight Pence a Night.
Mrs. _Lov_. Sir _Harry_, this Discourse suits not my Genius, I have a
Fortune, tho' not thousands enough to keep me from that odious thing you'd
tempt me to; therefore if you pursue this Humour any farther, I must
acquaint my Lady with it.
Sir _Har_. Why, then, Madam, do I most devoutly pray to _Venus_ there, and
each kind Creature here, that the Men may avoid you, as if you had n't a
Lure about you, that for madness you may turn Gam'ster, lose all your
Fortune at Play, and then grow crooked for want of Mony to buy you a new
Pair of Stayes. [_Exit._
Mrs. _Lov_. Was ever any thing so impudent! he's a charming Fellow tho',
and two hundred a Year is a charming Allowance too.--But Virtue! Virtue!--
Oh! that I had liv'd in good King Some-body's Days.
_Enter Major_ Bramble.
_Bra_. Madam _Lovejoy_, your most humble Servant, here's a Ring that was
pawn'd to me for twenty Guineas by a Welch Knight, on his being chose High
Sheriff o'the County, and the Mony not being paid in due time, it's become
forfeited; I therefore entreat the Favour of you to wear it.
Mrs. _Lov_. Your very humble Servant, Major, they are delicate Stones
indeed; but what Service must I do you in return of so great a Compliment?
_Bra_. Only that, Madam, of being my Advocate to Lady _Rodomont_, whose
Beauty I have long admir'd, and whose Estate I do profoundly reverence.
[_Aside._] Nor can I on a just survey of my Person and Parts find the
least Obstacle, why her Inclinations shou'd n't mount like mine, that
without much Ceremony or foppish Courtship, we might unite Circumstances,
and astonish the World at the Sight of a couple so prodigiously well
pair'd.
Mrs. _Lov_. Were my Fortune, Major, equal to my Lady's, my Judgment wou'd
be as much admir'd in such a Choice as my Happiness wou'd be envy'd; but
my Lady's of so uncommon a cold Constitution so whimsically gay, and fond
of new Diversions, she laughs at ev'ry serious Thought of Love.
_Bra._ Perhaps, Madam, my Lady never had an Offer worth her serious
Notice, the Fops a course chatter and teaze the Women, but when great
Statesmen condescend to Love, and while they Court, Affairs of State stand
still; a Lady shou'd be proud of such an Offer; what Woman wou'd not think
her self most highly honour'd to have an amorous Judge approach her with
his Tipstaff.
Mrs. _Lov._ Ay, Major, to have the State stand still, as if a Woman were
of mightier Moment wou'd sooth a Lady's Pride, 'twou'd be so pretty to
adjourn the Parliament when their Mistresses send for 'em to Picquet; and
were my Lady sensible how vast an Honour you design her, she certainly
wou'd own an equal Passion.
_Bra._ [_Aside_] I profess a very ingenious Woman, and cou'd I but be
satisfy'd, she were entirely in the French Int'rest, I I wou'd prefer her
to Madam _Maintenon's_ Cabinet Council, to consult about the next
Invasion.
_Enter_ Nicknack.
_Nic._ Oh! Mrs. _Lovejoy_, I have been hurry'd quite out of my Senses,
three more Ships are sail'd in upon me this Morning; the _Atlas_ Merchant
Man, Captain _Sunburnt_ Commander from the _East Indies_, the _Dighton_
Gally from the musty Islands, and the _Hankerchief_ Frigot from _Smirna_.
Mrs. _Lov._ Pray, Mr. _Nicknack_, when's the Sale?
_Nic._ Now, now, Madam, and the fat India Women from all Parts o'the Town
do croud and scold like a Parcel of Fish-Wives at a Mackrel-Boat--Mrs.
_Trapes_ in _Leadenhall_ Street is hawling away the Umbrellas for the
walking Gentry, Mrs. _Kanister_ in _Hatton Garden_, buys up all the course
Bohee-Tea for the _Holborn_ Ladies Breakfasts, and Mrs. _Furnish_ at St.
_James_'s has order'd Lots of Fans, and China, and India Pictures to be
set by for her, 'till she can borrow Mony to pay for 'em.----But, Madam, I
ha' brought you a couple of the prettiest Parrokeets, and the charming'st
Monkey for my Lady that ever was seen; a Coster-monger's Wife kiss'd it,
burst into Tears, and said, 'Twas so like an only Child she had just
bury'd. I thought the poor Woman wou'd ha' swoon'd away.
Mrs. _Lov_. Thank you good Mr. _Nicknack_.
_Nick_. But, Madam, have you told my Lady, what a violent Inflammation I
have about her?
Mrs. _Lov_. She's now at Cards with the _Collonel_, and next to the new
Monkey you'll be the welcom'st Creature alive to her.--Sweet Major excuse
me, for I must run to my dear Parrokeets. [_Exit._
_Bra_. Prithee, Friend, what Beau-maggot has thy Pericranium lately bred
to give thee pretensions to Lady _Rodomont_?
_Nick_. And pray, _Major_; what prejudice have the Ladies done you, that
you shou'd revenge it by offering 'em your disagreeable self? For he that
murmus at so good a Queen, must certainly be disaffected to the whole Sex.
_Bra_. Do'st thou imagine a Woman of sense that has seen he great Court of
_France_, and visited Madam _de Trollop_, Madam _de Frippery_, and Madam
_de Twangdillion_, where Ladies are great Politicians, and talk of
Ramparts, Bastions, and Aqueducts will prefer thy Parrots and Jack-daws to
a Man of Politicks, whom the Prince of _Conti_ consulted about the Kingdom
of _Poland_. Monsieur _Chamillard_ about the late Invasion.
_Nick._ I can't suppose, _Major_, a Lady of her Intellects, will fling her
self away on a Grumbletonian, to have her Estate confiscated, receive
Visits in the _Gate-house_, when her Husband's clapt up for Treason, and
afterwards quarrel with the Heralds about the length of her Veil, when her
Spouse made his _Exit_ at _Tyburn_.
_Bra_. Why ha'st thou the assurance to despise Heroes that die in a State
Cause, St. _Charnock_, and St. _Gregg_; these were Men that made a noise
i'the World, whose Names are in ev'ry News Paper, and let the Cause be
what it will, I honour People that make a noise in the World.--But
prithee, Mr. _Nicknack_, what makes you Citizens that spring from a little
Counting-house, up three Steps at the further End of a dark Ware-house,
attempt Women o'Quality?
_Nick_. Why, Sir, I can settle Threescore Thousand Pounds upon her.
_Bra_. Settle Threescore Thousand Pounds upon her;--Wou'd you buy a Wife
as you do Scamony and Cocheneal by Inch of Candle? If I were a Woman, I
shou'd hate the sound of an Inch of Candle. I'll settle _Major Bramble_
upon her, an inestimable Jewel, and if she has no more sense than to
refuse me; for a Chocolate-house, _Jelley Eater_, she has travell'd to as
little improvement, as some other Beau Ladies, that admire the Agility of
the _French_, before the Stability of the _Swiss Cantons_; therefore you
may go tire her with your Monkey tricks, to give her a true relish of my
more weighty Arguments.--In the mean time, I'll step to the Tow'r, to
congratulate the safe Arrival of some very great Persons out of
_Scotland_. [_Exit._
_Nick_. Now has this old Fellow the vanity to think his Person and
Qualities are as acceptable to a fine Woman as if he had been bred at
Court; but Asses will herd and bray amongst the fair Kine, like a knot of
Stock-jobbing Jews that crowd _Garraways_ Coffee-house, and fright away us
Beau Merchants with the stink of Bread and Cheese Snuff. [_Exit._
SCENE _Changes to_ Covent-Garden.
_Enter_ Matter Totty, _and_ Shrimp.
_Tot_. Lord! Lord! What a hugeous Place this _London_ is? I thank you
heartily, Sir, for taking Care of me; for I shou'd ha' quite lost my self,
and then, perhaps, some strange Person might ha' taken me up, and ha' kept
me; but what makes People in such a hurry here, as if at _Lincoln_, the
Mayor and Aldermen were going to a Bull-baiting; at other times Folks in
the Country walk more slowly, as tho' they were going to Church.
_Shr. London_, Master, is the Seat of Business, People do ev'ry thing in a
hurry here, except paying their Debts, and lying with their Wives; but
what Notion had you of the Town before you saw it?
_Tot_. Why, my Grand-mother says, Tis the wicked'st Place under the Copes
of Heav'n, and the Filthinesses she has seen there, have made her frigid
to Mankind; she says, young Fellows are greedy after young Wenches, and
make a scoff at old Folks; Men of Quality have no sense of well-doing, and
Women o'Quality no sense of Self-denial; your highflown Gentry, no sense
of Humility, and the Common People no sense of good Manners; mid-night
Collonels, no sense of Sobriety; Vintners no sense of Honesty; City Wives,
no sense of Chastity, and their Husbands, no sense at all.
_Shr_. You are deceiv'd, Master, People come hither for Education and
Improvement: Ev'ry Merchant's Prentice now assumes an air of Wisdom, talks
of Gaming, Dress, and Poetry; frequents the Hazard-Table at _Lambeth_, the
Bowling-Green at _Islington_, and keeps a Race-Horse for _Hackney-Marsh_;
has a Silver Watch double gilt, Pearl colour Silk Stockings, and a
black Suit for _Lent_, with a couple of Drop-Locks hanging up in the
Counting-house, which are occasionally hook'd on to a Spruce-Bob to Squire
two Chamber-Maids to the _Rival Queens_.
_Tot_. But do People obey their Parents in _London_?
_Shr_. Never, never, Master, this is an Age of Freedom and good Humour;
Fathers tope Claret with their Sons, and Mothers _Rosa Solis_ with their
Daughters; they Rake together, Intreague together, divide Estates, and
persue their Inclinations; Familiarity makes young Fellows easie, and old
Fellows have the happiness to live out all their Days.
_Tot_. O Gemini that's pure! well I always had a mighty mind to see
_London_, because my Grand-mother would never let me; and d'you belong to
Sir _Harry Sprightly_, say you, Sir?
_Shr_. I do my self the Honour to sojourn with him; Sir _Harry_
Compliments me with adjusting some Solecisms in his Dress; we were
Neighbour's Children in the Country, and always very fond of one another,
he begg'd the Favour of me to meet you at the Inn, give you some
refreshment, and conduct you to his Lodgings;--Oh! Here comes a Friend
o'mine lately return'd from _Flanders_, that will be glad to associate
with us; he's a Person of great Worth, I assure you, and might have had
great Preferments in the Army; but his good Manners, like some other
well-bred military Sparks, made him rather retreat than put himself
forward.
_Enter_ Knapsack.
Mr. _Knapsack_, your most humble Servant, an ingenious young Gentleman
here, just arriv'd from the Fenns in _Lincolnshire,_ desires to be known
to you; he's at present but a rough Diamond wholly ignorant of the Town,
but your Conversation will make him Brillant.
_Knap_. You know my Profession, Mr. _Shrimp_, and think you can't trespass
on my modesty; but your praises are enough to put our whole Regiment out
o'countenance, had we not quarter'd in _Ireland_.--The young Gentleman by
his deportment seems to be the Darling of a Family, and Heir to a good
Estate.
_Tot_. I shall have Five Hundred a Year, Sir, when my Grand-mother gives
up the Ghost; but at present she allows me but Eighteen Pence a Week for
reading the Book of Martyrs to her, copying Receipts, and supporting her
about the House.
_Shr_. Eighteen Pence a Week! Why the Kitchin Wench gets more for her
Coney Skins; but what allowance are you to have now, Master, you should
have handsome Lodgings in _Pall-Mall_ Tutors to embellish you, dress out
for _Whites_, keep a Chair by the Week, and an impudent Footman to knock
down People before you.
_Tot_. Ay, but my Grand-mother charg'd me on her Blessing never to go to
that end o'the Town; she says, they are abominable Spendthrifts there; bid
me remember the Prodigal Son, and has given me only a broad _Jacobus_ to
pay for Post Letters, and a Hundred Pound Bill upon Sir _Francis_ to put
me Clerk to an Attorney.
_Shr_. Clerk to an Attorney! Why the Nation swarms with 'em; so many young
Fellows now are bred to that Profession, Men, and their Wives are forc'd
to go to Law to find bus'ness for their Children.
_Knap_. Hang the Hundred Pounds; we'll spend it, Master, in showing you
the Town, the Lyons, and the Tombs, the Bears, and the Morocco's, the
Jew's Synagogue, and the Gyants at _Guild-hall_, my Lord-Mayor's great
Coach, and my Lady Mayoress's great Tower.
_Tot_. Shan't we go to the Play-house too, and see _Pinkeman, Bullock_,
and _Jubilee Dicky_?
_Knap_. Ay, and behind the Scenes too amongst the pretty Actresses; I must
have you a smart Youth, understand the finish'd Vices o'the Town, learn
to swear like a Gentleman of Ten Thousand a Year, few Men of Estates are
bred to Conversation, game like a desp'rate younger Brother, several
embroider'd Suits are known to live by't, drink abundantly to prevent
dull-thinking, and Whore lustily to encourage the Dispensary that gives
the poor Physick for nothing. Mr. _Shrimp_ here knows the World; and, I
warrant, for cogging a Die, bullying a Coward, bilking a Hackney Coachman,
and storming a Nest of Whores in _Drury-lane_, not a Master of Arts in
either University can come near him.
_Tot_. Fegs, so I will, they shan't think to cow me any longer; one cou'd
never stir out o'the Room, but my Grand-mother was purring after a Body,
and if she heard one got a little merry at _T. Totum_, with the Maids,
she'd quaver out _Totty_, come, and say your Catechism;--_What is the
chief End of Man?_ And upon ev'ry little Fault, she'd lock me up to get
_Quarles's Emblems_ by heart, and threaten I shou'd lie in the great Room
that's haunted, and never let one have any other diversion, than to hear
the Chaplain play _Jumping Joan_ upon the Base Viol.
_Shr_. Shall we adjourn to the _Rose_, the Drawer's my particular Friend,
and will give us _French_ Wine for Eighteen Pence a Bottle.
_Tot_. But lets ha' some Sack, do.
_Knap_. Ay, and Sugar, my brave Boy, thou shall't have any thing; we'll be
merry as mony'd Sailors over a Bowl o'Rum Punch, fluster'd as their
Whores, and frolicksom, 'till we have spent all, drink Confusion to all
Grand-mothers, and if the old Cat pretends to Ptysick it much longer,
we'll get an Act of Parliament to poyson her.
_Tot_. With all my Heart! they say the Parliament can do any thing.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE, _A Drawing-Room._
_Enter the_ Collonel, _and_ Lady Rodomont _rising from Play_.
L. _Rod_. Fling up the Cards, good _Collonel_, after two Games, the
Pleasure becomes a Business; like my Lady _Shuffler_ that gits her living
at 'em.
_Col_. Your Ladyship's a Chymist in Diversions, extracts the quintessence
of ev'ry Pleasure, and leaves the drossy Part upon the World; Agreements,
when too tedious pall the Fancy, when short they quicken and refine our
Appetites; and the sublimest Joy to Mortals known, evaporates the Moment
that 'tis tasted.
L. _Rod_. Variety alone supports dull Life, the light Amusements that
connect and change, Spur on the creeping Circle of the Year; I love to
humour an unbounded Genius, to give a lose to ev'ry spring of Fancy, to
rove, to range, to sport with different Countries, and share the Revels of
the Universe.
_Col_. My Genius fain wou'd Court superiour Blessings; those Passions are
too hurrying to last; Vapours that start from a Mercurial Brain, whose
wild Chimera's flush the lighter Faculties, which tir'd i'th'vain pursuit
of fancy'd Pleasures; a Passion more substantial Courts our Reason, solid,
persuasive, elegant, sublime, where ev'ry Sense crowds to the luscious
Banquet, and ev'ry nobler Faculty's imploy'd.
L. _Rod_. That Passion you describe's a sleeping Potion, a lazy, stupid,
lethargy of Mind, that nums our Faculties, destroys our Reason, and to our
Sex the bane of all Agreements; shou'd I whom Fortune, lavish of her
store, has given the means to glut insatiate Wishes, out-vie my Sex, and
Lord it o'er Mankind, constrain my rambling Pleasures, check my Liberty
for an insipid Cooing sort of Life, which marry'd Fools think Heav'n, and
cheat each other.
_Col_. Are Love and Pleasure, Madam, so incongruous?--Methinks the very
name of Love exhilerates; meaner delights were meant but to persuade us,
Toys to provoke and heighten our desires, which Love confirms and Crowns
with mightier extasie.
L. _Rod._ Rather all Joys expire, where Love commences; when that deluding
Passion once takes root, we grow insensible, ill-bred, intolerable,
neglecting Dress and Air, and Conversation; to fondle an odd Wretch, that
caus'd our ruin: No, give me the outward Gallantries of Love, the Poetry,
the Balls, the Serenades, where I may Laugh and Toy, and humour Apish
Cringers, with secret Pride to raise my Sexes Envy, and lead pretending
Fops a Faiery Dance.
_Col._ My own Humour to a Hair! How I admire such generous sprightly
Virtue, your Reasoning, Madam, darts amazing brightness, 'where groveling
Souls want courage to think freely, ay, Liberty's the Source of all
Enjoyments, a nourishing Delight, innate and durable. I love the Harmony
of Foreign Courts; your downright _English_ Women are meer Mopes, sit
dumb like Clocks that speak but once an Hour, supinely Grave and
insolently Sullen, nor Smile but on good terms to Laugh, at us for Life:
But other Climates animate more warmly; Sexes alike are free, reciprocally
gay, and Pleasures are persu'd without Reflection, if Principle or Fear
refuse us Love; for I'm the tenderest of a Lady's Honour, the Fair One
still has tantalizing Charms, her tuneful Voice, her graceful, easie
Movement, her lively Converse, happy turn of Thought, Language polite,
keen Wit, fineness of Argument, but Marriage turns the Edge of all
Society.
L. _Rod._ Pray, _Collonel_, how long have you taken up this Resolution?
_Col_. I doat upon the Sex, admire their heav'nly Form, like beauteous
Temples built by sacred Hands, where their bright Souls as Deities
inhabit; but shou'd Love's Queen, Celestial _Citharea_, descend in all her
elegance of Beauty, the study'd Care of the officious Graces, with Wreaths
of Jewels glittering round her Temples, her flowing Locks dispos'd in
artful Circles, losely attir'd, and on a Down of Roses, with laughing
Cupids hov'ring round the Bed.--
L. _Rod_. But _Collonel_.
_Col_ A wondrous lovely Mien, kind melting Airs, soft snowy Breasts that
pant with am'rous Sighs, Eyes lauguishing that steal forth welcome
glances; Cheeks rip'ning, glowing, kindling, ravishing.
_To be confin'd, wou'd deaden all her Charms,
And Matrimony fright me from her Arms_.
L. _Rod_. Good _Collonel_ check a while this feign'd Career; for in
describing her you wou'd refuse, you're in a Rapture, and quite out of
Breath; don't depend too much on your fancy'd Prowess, some mortal Dames,
less beauteous than a Goddess, have exercis'd and tam'd the boldest
Heroes.
_Enter Mrs_. Lovejoy.
Mrs. _Lov_. Madam, the Countess of _Circumference_, my Lady _May-pole_,
and my Lady _Bob-tail_ are just lighting at the Gate.
L. _Rod_. Pray sup with me _Collonel_, and lets finish this Argument, I'm
fond of disputing with a Person that talks well.
_Col_. [_aside _] She's peek'd, and my design must prove successful.
_Pride keeps me off, but Nature smooths my way;
For what her Tongue wou'd hide, her Eyes betray_.
[_Exit._
L. _Rod_. Cozen, did you ever hear the like? The _Collonel's_ such an
Enemy to Marriage?
Mrs. _Lov_. An Enemy to Marriage, Madam!
L. _Rod_. As obstinately bent against it, as if he were incapable of Love;
not that his Principles concern me, yet such Heresy in Men shou'd be
subdu'd.
Mrs. _Lov_. Perhaps, Madam, the _Collonel_ may have had some strange
misfortune in the Army, Cannon Bullets fly at such an ugly random rate.
L. _Rod_. Ha, ha, ha, how I laugh at such thin Disguises, as if a ratling
Officer in this fortune-hunting Age, cou'd have Philosophy to slight my
Person and Estate; but I'll applaud his happy choice of Liberty; say, 'tis
a generous Thought, so like my self, I'll settle a Platonick Friendship
with him, then faulter in my Speech, and seem confus'd, as if my Sexes
weakness must discover a Passion which my haughty Soul wou'd hide. The
greedy _Collonel_ catches at the Bait, deep Sighs, and sheepish Looks
confess the Lover; then with what sparkling Pride I'll boast my Power,
bravely assert my wonted Resolutions, rally the blustering Heroe, and
pursue new Conquests.
_As the Sun's early Beams attract and warm,
So Ladies with their easie glances Charm;
Vain Coxcombs cringe with transport and surprize,
Feel kindling Fire, and feed upon their Eyes;
'Till like the Sun, the dazling Nymphs display_
Meridian _heat, and scorch the Fools away_.
_End of the Third_ ACT.