Plays, written by Sir John Vanbrugh, volume the first

by John Vanbrugh

Lord Fop. He does deserve to be chartrè, stap my Vitals.

Sir Tun. May I then hope I have your Honour's Pardon?

Lord Fop. Sir, we Courtiers do nothing without a Bribe; that fair young Lady might do Miracles.

Sir Tun. Hoyden, come hither, Hoyden.

Lord Fop. Hoyden is her Name, Sir?

Sir Tun. Yes, my Lord.

Lord Fop. The prettiest Name for a Song I ever heard.

Sir Tun. My Lord——here's my Girl, she's yours, she has a wholesome Body, and virtuous Mind; she's a Woman complete, both in Flesh and in Spirit; she has a Bag of mill'd Crowns, as scarce as they are, and fifteen hundred a-year flitch'd fast to her Tail: so go thy ways, Hoyden.

Lord Fop. Sir, I do receive her like a Gentleman.

Sir Tun. Then I'm a happy Man, I bless Heaven, and if your Lordship will give me leave, I will, like a good Christian at Christmas, be very drunk by way of Thanksgiving. Come, my noble Peer, I believe Dinner's ready; if your Honour pleases to follow me, I'll lead you on to the Attack of a Venison Pasty.