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 Sir J. Aery. Thou'lt make me angry one time or other with these true Jests, Geddemme.

Sir Toby. Geddemme thou li'st, thou can'st not be angry. [He Canes him. Sir J. Aery. Nay, prithee don't be so damnable witty: Pox, I hate these Jests that make one's Sides ake without Laughing.

Ang. Spare him, good Sir Toby, for this time, he has been lately very useful.

Sir J. Aery. By your leave, Geddemme, I'll tell my own Merits. You must know then, Bellamour has been here; poor Fellow, how we rally'd him; never was Dog with a Bottle at his Tail so persecuted: For as you know, and as all the Town knows, for if 'twere a Secret no body should know, and how it came not to be a Secret, Geddemme if I know; for upon these occasions I am always Mum;—but Women, beged, are strange indiscreet Things, and a Man can't be always stopping their Mouths, Geddemme.

Vaun. Dear Rogue, now I adore him, he speaks like an Angel, beged.

Sir J. Aery. As I was saying then, to omit all farther Tropes and Figures, Circumstance of Elocution, and Flower of Circumlocution.—Bellamour is going to be married to Lucinda.—Now this Lucinda, beged, Vaunter and I have had twenty times.—

Vaun. Ay, beged, a thousand, whenever we thougt fit, by the great Geds and the little.

Phil. Why, you Brace of Toads, whose Breath is poyson.

Sir Toby. Ye Vermine, that live by gnawing upon the Reputation of Ladies.—

Sir J. Aery and Vaunter. Demme, no more of these Jests, or we'll keep you Company no longer.

Phil. Rascals,—Vipers.

How unhappy are Women, whose Fame depends on the Breath of such Fools!

Sir Toby. Rather unhappy, adzooks, for trusting their Fame with such Fools. And now, Noble Collonel, give me leave to present you to this young Friend of mine;—a pretty Fellow, as you see, and worth a better acquaintance. This my little