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Val. Not once, I dare answer for him.

Scand. And I'll answer for him ; for, I'm sure “ if he had, he would have told me. I find, madam, you

don't know Mr. Tattle. Tatt. No indeed, madam, you don't know me at

all, I find; for sure, my intimate friends would “ have known

Ang. Then it seems, you would have told, if you « had been trusted.

Tatt. O pox, Scandal, that was too far put!“ Never have told particulars, madam. Perhaps I

might have talked as of a third person-or have “ introduced an amour of my own, in conversation,

of novel : but never have explained par. " ticulars.

Ang. But whence comes the reputation of Mr. “ Tattle's secrecy, if he was never trusted ?

Scand. Why thence it arises.-The thing is pro“ verbially spoken ; but may be applied to him.-As “ if we should say in general terms, He only is se“cret, who never was trusted; a satirical proverb upon our sex.

-There is another upon yours-as, “ She is chaste, who was never asked the question. « That's all.

Val. A couple of very civil proverbs, truly. It “ is hard to tell whether the lady or Mr. Tattle be " the more obliged to you.

For you found her vir“ tue upon the backwardness of the men ; and his “ secrecy upon the mistrust of the women.

Tatt. Gad, it's very true, madam ; I think we are "obliged to acquit ourselves.--And for my part“ but your ladyship is to speak first.

Ang. Am I? Well, I freely confess, I have re“ sisted a great deal of temptation.

Tatt. And, egad, I have given some temptation " that has not been resisted.

" Val. Good. Ang. I cite Valentine here, to declare to the

court, how fruitless he has found his endeavours, " and to confess all his solicitations and my denials.

Val. I am ready to plead, Not guilty, for you; “ and Guilty, for myself.

Scand. So, why this is fair! here's demonstration, 66 with a witness..

Tatt. Well, my witnesses are not present.--Yet, - I confess, I have had favours from persons; but, “ as the favours are numberless, so the persons are “ nameless.

Scand. Pooh, this proves nothing.

Tatt. No? I can shew letters, lockets, pictures, "and rings; and if there be occasion for witnesses, I

can summon the maids at the chocolate-houses, all “the porters at Pall-Mall and Covent-Garden, the

door-keepers at the play-house, the drawers at • Locket's, Pontack, the Rummer, Spring-Garden,

my own landlady and valet de chambre; all who « shall make oath, that I receive more letters, than “ the secretary's office; and that I have more vizor “ masks to enquire for me, than ever went to see the hermaphrodite, or the naked prince. And it is

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“ notorious, that, in a country church, once, an in. “ quiry being made who I was, it was answered, I “ was the famous Tattle, who had ruined so many

(6 women.

" bal. It was there, I suppose, you got the nick. “ name of the Great Turk.

Tatt. True ; I was called Turk Tattle all over “ the parish. The next Sunday, all the old women

kept their daughters at home, and the parson had “ not half his congregation. He would have brought “ me into the spiritual court: but I was revenged “ upon him, for he had a handsome daughter, whom “ I initiated into the science. But I repented it af“ terwards; for it was talked of in town. And a “ lady of quality, that shall be nameless, in a raging “ fit of jealousy came down in her coach and six “ horses, and exposed herself upon my account. Gad, “ I was sorry for it with all my heart.—You know “ whom I mean--you know where we raffled

Scand. Mum, Tattle! Val. 'Sdeath, are you not ashamed? “ Ang. O barbarous ! I never heard so insolent a

piece of vanity !_Fie, Mr. Tattle l-I'll swear 1 " could not have believed it.--Is this your secrecy!

Tatt. Gad so, the heat of my story carried me

beyond my discretion, as the heat of the lady's pas. “ sion hurried her beyond her reputation. But 1 “ hope you don't know whom I mean; for there “ were a great many ladies raffled.-Pox on't, now « could I bite off my tongue.

Scand. No, don't ; for then you'll tell us no more. Come, I'll recommend a song to you, upon the hint of my two proverbs; and I see one in the next room that will sing it.

[Goes to the door. Tatt. For Heaven's sake, if you do guess, say nothing. Gad, I'm very unfortunate ! “ Scand. Pray sing the first song in the last new play.

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A nymph and a swain to Apollo once pray'd, The swain had been jilted, the nymph been betray'd: " Their intent was, to try if his oracle knew E'er a nymph that was chaste, or a swain that was true.

Apollo was mute, and had like t' have been pos’d, But sagely at length he this secret disclos'd: He alone wo'nt betray, in whom none will confide; And the nymph may be chaste, that has never been tried."

Enter Sir SAMPSON, Mrs. FRAIL, Miss Prue, and

Servant. Sir S. Is Ben come? Odso, my son Ben come? Odd, I'm glad on't.-Where is he? I long to see uim. Now, Mrs. Frail, you shall see my son Ben. -Body o'me, he's the hopes of my family-I ha’nt een him these three years—I warrant he's grown! ---Call him in; bid him make haste [Exit Servant.] -I'm ready to cry for joy.

Mrs. F. Now, miss, you shall see your husband. Miss P. Pish, he shall be none of my

husband.

[ Aside to Frail. Mrs. F. Hush! Well, he shan't ! leave that to me -l'll beckon Mr. Tattle to us.

Ang. Won't you stay and see your brother?

Val. We are the twin stars, and cannot shine in one sphere; when he rises, I must set.--Besides, if I should stay, I don't know but my father in goodnature may press me to the immediate signing the deed of conveyance of my estate ; and I'll defer it as long as I can.-Well, you'll come to a resolution.

Ang. I cannot. Resolution must come to me, or I] shall never have one.

Scand. Come, Valentine, I'll go with you; I have something in my head, to communicate to you.

[Exeunt Scandal and Valentine. Sir S. What! is my son Valentine gone? What! is he sneaked off, and would not see his brother? There's an unnatural whelp! there's an ill-natured dog! What! were you here too, madam, and could not keep him? could neither love, nor duty, nor natural affection, oblige him? Odsbud, madam, have no more to say to him; he is not worth your consideration. The rogue has not a drachm of generous love about him-all interest, all interest! He's an un done scoundrel, and courts your estate. Body o’me he does not care a doit for your person.

Ang. I am pretty even with him, Sir Sampson; for, if ever I could have liked any thing in him, it should

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