ing, the first hides the latter by
abundance.--Scrub!

_Scrub_. Madam!

_Dor_. We have a great mind to know who this gentleman
is, only for our satisfaction.

_Scrub_. Yes, madam, it would be a satisfaction, no doubt.

_Dor_. You must go and get acquainted with his footman,
and invite him hither to drink a bottle of your ale
because you 're butler to-day. {95}

_Scrub_. Yes, madam, I am butler every Sunday.

_Mrs. Sul_. O' brave! sister, o' my conscience, you
understand the mathematics already. 'Tis the best
plot in the world: your mother, you know, will be
gone to church, my spouse will be got to the ale-house
with his scoundrels, and the house will be our
own--so we drop in by accident, and ask the fellow
some questions ourselves. In the country, you
know, any stranger is company, and we're glad to
take up with the butler in a country-dance, and
happy if he 'll do us the favour. {106}

_Scrub_. O madam, you wrong me! I never refused your
ladyship the favour in my life.

_Enter Gipsy_.

_Gip_. Ladies, dinner's upon table.

_Dor_. Scrub, we'll excuse your waiting--go where we
ordered you.

_Scrub_. I shall. [_Exeunt_.

ACT III., SCENE II

_A Room in Bonifaces Inn_.
_Enter Aimwell and Archer_.

_Arch_. Well, Tom, I find you 're a marksman.

_Aim_. A marksman! who so blind could be, as not
discern a swan among the ravens?

_Arch_. Well, but hark'ee, Aimwell!

_Aim_. Aimwell! call me Oroondates, Cesario, Amadis,
all that romance can in a lover paint, and then I 'll
answer. O Archer! I read her thousands in her
looks, she looked like Ceres in her harvest: corn,
wine and oil, milk and honey, gardens, groves, and
purling streams played on her plenteous face. {10}

_Arch_. Her face! her pocket, you mean; the corn, wine
and oil, lies there. In short, she has ten thousand
pounds, that's the English on't.

_Aim_. Her eyes------

_Arch_. Are demi-cannons, to be sure; so I won't stand
their battery. [_Going_.

_Aim_.-Pray excuse me, my passion must have vent.

_Arch_. Passion! what a plague, d' ye think these
romantic airs will do our business? Were my temper
as extravagant as yours, my adventures have something
more romantic by half. {21}

_Aim_. Your adventures!

_Arch_. Yes,

The nymph that with her twice ten hundred pounds,
With brazen engine hot, and quoif clear-starched,
Can fire t