Sir H. Ha, Vizard!
Vizard. Sir Harry!
Sir H. Who thought to find you out of the Rubric so long? I thought thy hypocrisy had been wedded to a pulpit-cushion long ago.—Sir, if I mistake not your face, your name is Standard?
Colonel S. Sir Harry, I'm your humble servant.
Sir H. Come, gentlemen, the news, the news o' th' town, for I'm just arrived.
Vizard. Why, in the city end o' th' town we're playing the knave, to get estates.
Colonel S. And in the court end playing the fool, in spending them.
Sir H. Just so in Paris. I'm glad we're grown so modish.
Vizard. We are so reformed, that gallantry is taken for vice.
Colonel S. And hypocrisy for religion.