Serv. Will your Lordship venture so soon to expose yourself to the Weather?
Lord Fop. Sir, I will venture as soon as I can, to expose myself to the Ladies: tho' give me my Cloke, however; for in that Side-bax, what between the Air that comes in at the Door on one side, and the intolerable Warmth of the Masks on t'other, a Man gets so many Heats and Colds, 'twou'd destroy the Canstitution of a Harse.
Ser. [Putting on his Cloke.] I wish your Lordship wou'd please to keep House a little longer, I'm afraid your Honour does not well consider your Wound.
Lord Fop. My Wound!—--I wou'd not be in Eclipse another Day, tho' I had as many Wounds in my Guts as I have had in my Heart.
Enter Young Fashion.
Young Fash. Brother, your Servant. How do you find yourself to-day?
Lord Fop. So well, that I have arder'd my Coach to the Door: So there's no great Danger of Death this baut, Tam.
Young Fash. I'm very glad of it.
Lord Fop. aside.] That I believe's a Lye. Pr'ythee, Tam, tell me one thing: Did not your Heart cut a Caper up to your Mauth, when you heard I was run thro' the Bady?