Parly. 'Tis provided by the same act, that you send no more messages by me, good Colonel; you must not presume to send any more letters, unless you can pay the postage.
Colonel S. Come, come, don't be mercenary; take example by your lady, be honourable.
Parly. A-lack-a-day, sir, it shows as ridiculous and haughty for us to imitate our betters in their honour, as in their finery; leave honour to nobility that can support it: we poor folks, Colonel, have no pretence to't; and truly, I think, sir, that your honour should be cashiered with your leading-staff.
Colonel S. 'Tis one of the greatest curses of poverty to be the jest of chambermaids!
Enter Lurewell.
Lady L. Here's the packet, Colonel; the whole magazine of love's artillery.
[Gives him the Packet.
Colonel S. Which, since I have gained, I will turn upon the enemy. Madam, I'll bring you the news of my victory this evening. Poor Sir Harry, ha! ha! ha! [Exit.
Lady L. To the right about as you were; march, Colonel. Ha! ha! ha!
| Vain man, who boasts of studied parts and wiles! |
| Nature in us, your deepest art beguiles, |
| Stamping deep cunning in our frowns and smiles. |
| You toil for art, your intellects you trace; |
| Woman, without a thought, bears policy in her face. |
| [Exeunt. |