can't you find it out? Why, there 'tis, in the not
laughing. Don't you apprehend me? My lord, Careless is a very honest
fellow, but harkee, you understand me, somewhat heavy, a little shallow,
or so. Why, I'll tell you now, suppose now you come up to me--nay,
prithee, Careless, be instructed. Suppose, as I was saying, you come up
to me holding your sides, and laughing as if you would--well--I look
grave, and ask the cause of this immoderate mirth. You laugh on still,
and are not able to tell me, still I look grave, not so much as smile.

CARE. Smile, no, what the devil should you smile at, when you suppose I
can't tell you!

BRISK. Pshaw, pshaw, prithee don't interrupt me. But I tell you, you
shall tell me at last, but it shall be a great while first.

CARE. Well, but prithee don't let it be a great while, because I long to
have it over.

BRISK. Well then, you tell me some good jest or some very witty thing,
laughing all the while as if you were ready to die, and I hear it, and
look thus. Would not you be disappointed?

CARE. No; for if it were a witty thing I should not expect you to
understand it.

LORD FROTH. Oh, foy, Mr. Careless, all the world allows Mr. Brisk to
have wit; my wife says he has a great deal. I hope you think her a
judge.

BRISK. Pooh, my lord, his voice goes for nothing; I can't tell how to
make him apprehend. Take it t'other way. Suppose I say a witty thing to
you?

CARE. Then I shall be disappointed indeed.

MEL. Let him alone, Brisk, he is obstinately bent not to be instructed.

BRISK. I'm sorry for him, the deuce take me.

MEL. Shall we go to the ladies, my lord?

LORD FROTH. With all my heart; methinks we are a solitude without 'em.

MEL. Or what say you to another bottle of champagne?

LORD FROTH. Oh, for the universe not a drop more, I beseech you. Oh,
intemperate! I have a flushing in my face already. [_Takes out a pocket-
glass and looks in it_.]

BRISK. Let me see, let me see, my lord, I broke my glass that was in the
lid of my snuff-box. Hum! Deuce take me, I have encouraged a pimple
here too. [_Takes the glass and looks_.]

LORD FROTH. Then you must mortify him with a patch; my wife shall supply
you. Come, gentlemen, _allons_, here is company coming.

SCENE VI.

LADY TOUCHWOOD _and_ MASKWELL.

LADY TOUCH. I'll hear no more. You are false and ungrateful; come, I
know you false.

MASK. I have been frail, I confess, madam, f