L. Lam. Sir—you are poor!
Lov. So is my Prince; a Plague on the occasion.
L. Lam. I think you are—no Fool too.
Lov. I wou’d I were, then I had been a Knave, had thriv’d, and possibly by this time had been tugging for rifled Crowns and Kingdoms.
L. Lam. This Satir ill befits my present Bus’ness with you—you—want some Necessaries—as Clothes, and Linen too; and ’tis great pity so proper a Man shou’d want Necessaries. Gilliflower—take my Cabinet Key, and fetch the Purse of Broad-pieces that lies in the lower Drawer; ’tis a small Present, Sir, but ’tis an Earnest of my farther Service. [Gill. goes out and returns with a Purse.
Lov. I’m angry, that I find one Grain of Generosity in this whole Race of Hypocrites. [Aside.
L. Lam. Here, Sir,’tis only for your present use; for Clothes—three hundred Pieces; let me see you sweet—
Lov. Stark mad, by this good Day.
L. Lam. Ah, Gilliflower! How prettily those Cavalier things charm; I wonder how the Powers above came to give them all the Wit, Softness, and Gallantry—whilst all the great ones of our Age have the most slovenly, ungrateful, dull Behaviour; no Air, no Wit, no Love, nor any thing to please a Lady with.
Gill. Truly, Madam, there’s a great Difference in the Men; yet Heaven at first did its part, but the Devil has since so over-done his, that what with the Vizor of Sanctity, which is the gadly Sneer, the drawing of the Face to a prodigious length, the formal Language, with a certain Twang through the Nose, and the pious Gogle, they are fitter to scare Children than beget love in Ladies.