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Love. I expect the tailor, about turning my coat; don't you think this coat will look well enough turned, and with new buttons, for a wedding suit ?
Lap. For pity's sake, Sir, don't refuse me this small sfavor : I shall be undone, indeed, Sir. If it were but so small a matter as ten pounds, Sir
Love. I think I hear the tailor's voice.
Lap. If it were but five pounds, Sir; but three pounds, Sir; nay, Sir, a single guinea would be of service for a day or two. [As he offers to go out on either side, he .intercepts kim.
\ Love. I must go, I can't stay -hark, there! Somebody calls me—I am very much obliged to you, indeed; I am very much obliged to you.
Lap. Go to the devil, like a covetous good for nothing villain as you are. Ramilie is in the right; however, I shall not quit the affair ; for though I get nothing out of him, I am sure of my reward from the other side.
VI.—Cardinal Wolsey and Cromwell.—Hehry VIH.
Never to hope again.
[Enter Cromwell. Why, how now, Cromwell ?
Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir,
Wol. Whatj amaz'd
Crom. How does your grace?
Wol. Why, well ;
Crom. The treaviest and the worst
Wol. God bless him.!
Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas ‘Moore is chosen Lord Chancellor in your place.
Wol. That's somewhat sudden-
Crom. That Cranmer is rcturn'd with welcome ;
110! Thai's news indeed ! Crom, Last; that the Lady Anne,
Whom the king hath in secrecy long married,
pray, inay never set 1) I've told him What and how true thou art ; he will advance thee ; Some little memory of me will stir him, (I know his noble nature) not to let Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell ; Neglect him not; make use now and provide For thine own future safety.
Crom. Oh, my lord !
Wol. Cromwell I did not think to shed a tear
(Though the image of his Maker) hope to win by't ?
Crom. Good Sir, have patience.
Wol. So I have. Farewell
THREE WEEKS AFTER MARRIAGE. Lady R. O LA! I'm quite fatigued I can hardly
Why don't you help nc, you barbarous man ? Sir C. There—take my arm
Lady R. But I won't be laughed at I don't loTe you. Sir C. Don't you
u ? Lady R. No. Dear me! This glove! Why don't you help me off with my glove ? Pshaw! You awkward thing; Vet it alone ; ycu an't fit to be about me. Reach me a chairyou have to compassion for men el ara so glad to sit down--- Why do you drag me to routs ? You know I hitc 'em.
Sir C. Oh! There's no existing, no breathing, unless one does as other people of fashion do.
Lady R. But I'm out of humor-.I lost all my money.
Sir C. Never fret for that I don't value uree huge dred pounds, to contribute to your happiness.
Lady R. Don't you ? Not value three hundred pounds to please me?
Sir C. You know I don't.
Lady R. Ah ! You fond fool ! But I luate gaming-It almost metamorphoses a woman into a fury —Do you know that I was frighted at myself several times tonight ?. I had a huge oath at the very tip of my tongue.
Sir C. Had yon? ; Lady R. I caught myself at it—and so I bit my lips.
And then I was crammed up in a corner of the 10001, with such a strange party, nt a whist table, looking et black and roll spots--Did you mind 'em ?
Sir C. You know 1 was busy elsewhere.
Lady R. There was that strange unaccountable troman, Mrs. Nightshade. She behaved ?o strangely to her husband--a poor, inoffensive, gcodnatured, good sort of R good for nothing kind of a But she so teazeti him—" How could you play that card ? Ah, you've a head, and so has n pin.--You're a numskull, you know you are—Ma'am he's the poorest head in the world he docs not know what he is about; you know you don't —Ah, fie ! I'm asham'd of you \" Sir C. She has served to divert you,
Lady R. And then to crown all there was my Lady Clackit, who runs on with an eternal volubility of nothing, out of all season, time and place.--In the very midst of the game, she begins—« Lard, Ma'am, I was apprehensive I should not be able to wait on your I: dyship--my poor little dog, Pompey--the sweetest thing in the world !—A spade led! There's the knave.-I was fetching a walk, Me'em, the other morning in the Park--A fine frosty imorning it was. Ilove frosty weather of all things let me look at the last trick and so Me'm, little Pompey—and if your ladyship was to see the dear creature pinched with the frost, and mincing his steps along the Mall—with his pretty little innocent face
I vow I don't know what to play.--And so, Mc'em, while I was talking to Captain Flimsey--your lady ship knows Captain Flimsey. Nothing but rubbish in my hand I can't help it.—And so, Me'em, five odious frights of dogs beset my poor little Pompey—the dear