1 Beau. Gh. D—me, Jack, did’st ever hear a sot spoil a good tale in the telling so?
2 Beau. Gh. Z—ns, Ned, we’re undone thro’ this scoundrel’s ignorance and nonsense: shall I speak?
1 Beau. Gh. R—t me, if thou wilt, thou may’st: but I am sure I could make more of it: for tho’ thou art a man of wit, and a good judge of poetry, and all that, r—t me, Jack, oratory is thy blind side.
2 Beau. Gh. D—me, Sir, don’t put upon your friends; for have I been bred at the university, and think myself as good a judge as you or any man alive: and, Sir, were we out of the court, I believe you would not thus have abus’d me.
1 Beau. Gh. Nay, D—me, Ned, now thou art unjust to thy friend: r—t me, to quarrel for’t, I acknowledg’d thee a man of parts, Ned, and all that.
Luc. Away with the gay sots, and because I have no plagues in hell equal to their deserts, let them be a torment to one another. Away with them.
[As they go off, the Beaus discourse.
1 Beau. Gh. Well, Ned, shall I speak before it is too late: you may depend on my excellence in oratory, ’tis my talent; I never writ billet-deux in my life, but it prevail’d with the cruel nymph: and do you think I can’t with the devil? I’ll perswade him out of his seven senses, man? d—me, I’ll make it appear to him that he is a god, and all that, man: r—t me, Ned, be not obstinate.
2 Beau. Gh. Z—ns, Sir, no more of that strain. Sir, you’re a coxcomb. What doubt my universal parts?
Luc. You with such a busy face, speak, what are you?