Archer. There's nothing in this, Tom, without a precedent; but instead of rivetting your eyes to a beauty, try to fix 'em upon a fortune; that's our business at present.
Aim. Psha! no woman can be a beauty without a fortune. Let me alone, for I am a marksman.
Talking afterwards of Dorinda, whom he observes in church, he says,
Aimwell. Call me Oroondates, Cesario, Amadis, all that romance can in a lover paint, and then I'll answer:—O, Archer! I read her thousands in her looks, she looked like Ceres in her harvest; corn, wine and oil, milk and honey, gardens, groves, and purling streams played in her plenteous face.
CHAPTER XI.
Congreve—Lord Dorset.
The birthplace of Congreve is uncertain, but he was born about 1671, and was educated in Kilkenny and Dublin. He is an instance of that union of Irish versatility with English reflection, which has produced the most celebrated wits. We also mark in him a considerable improvement in delicacy. "The Old Batchelor" was his first play, the success of which was so great that Lord Halifax made him one of the commissioners for licensing hackney-coaches; he afterwards gave him a place in the Pipe Office and Custom House.
Belmour begins very suitably by saying—