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84 Sterl. Ay, ay, you may ſave your lungs—the houſe is in an uproar;—women at beſt have no diſcretion; but in a paſſion they'll fire a houſe, or burn themſelves in it, rather than not be revenged.

Cant. Eh, diable! vat is de raiſon of dis great noiſe, this tintamarre?

Sterl. Aſk thoſe ladies, Sir; 'tis of their making.

Bruſh! Bruſh!—Canton! where are you?—What's the matter? [rings a bell.] Where are you?

Sterl. 'Tis my Lord calls, Mr. Canton.

Cant. I com, mi Lor!—[Exit Canton.]—[Lord Ogleby ſtill rings.

A light! a light here!—where are the ſervants? Bring a light for me, and my brothers.

Sterl. Lights here! lights for the gentlemen!

Mrs. Heidel. My brother feels, I ſee—your ſiſter's turn will come next.

Miſs Sterl. Ay, ay, let it go round, Madam! it is the only comfort I have left.

Sterl. This way, Sir! this way, gentlemen!

Serjeant Flower. Well, but, Mr. Sterling, no danger I hope.—Have they made a burglarious entry?—Are you prepar'd to repulſe them?—I am very much alarm'd about thieves at circuit-time.—They would be particularly ſevere with us gentlemen of the bar.

Traverſe. No danger, Mr. Sterling?—No treſpaſs, I hope?

Sterl. None, gentlemen, but of thoſe ladies making.

Mrs. Heidel. You'll be aſham'd to know, gentlemen, that all your labours and ſtudies about this young