Wor. Rich Sylvia, you mean, and poor captain; ha! ha! ha!—Come, come, friend, Melinda is true, and shall be mine; Sylvia is constant, and may be yours.
Plume. No, she's above my hopes——but for her sake, I'll recant my opinion of her sex.
| By some the sex is blam'd without design, |
| Light harmless censure, such as yours and mine, |
| Sallies of wit, and vapours of our wine: |
| Others the justice of the sex condemn, |
| And, wanting merit to create esteem, |
| Would hide their own defects by censuring them: |
| But they, secure in their all-conq'ring charms, |
| Laugh at our vain attempts, our false alarms. |
| He magnifies their conquests who complains, |
| For none would struggle, were they not in chains. |
| [Exeunt. |
ACT THE FIFTH.
SCENE I.
Justice Balance's House.
Enter Balance and Scale.
Scale. I say, 'tis not to be borne, Mr. Balance.
Bal. Lookye, Mr. Scale, for my own part I shall be very tender in what regards the officers of the army—I only speak in reference to Captain Plume—for the other spark I know nothing of.