eve you called me fool.

SIR PAUL. Nay, I protest and vow now, 'tis true; when Mr. Brisk jokes,
your lordship's laugh does so become you, he, he, he.

LORD FROTH. Ridiculous! Sir Paul, you're strangely mistaken, I find
champagne is powerful. I assure you, Sir Paul, I laugh at nobody's jest
but my own, or a lady's, I assure you, Sir Paul.

BRISK. How? how, my lord? what, affront my wit! Let me perish, do I
never say anything worthy to be laughed at?

LORD FROTH. Oh, foy, don't misapprehend me; I don't say so, for I often
smile at your conceptions. But there is nothing more unbecoming a man of
quality than to laugh; 'tis such a vulgar expression of the passion;
everybody can laugh. Then especially to laugh at the jest of an inferior
person, or when anybody else of the same quality does not laugh with
one--ridiculous! To be pleased with what pleases the crowd! Now when I
laugh, I always laugh alone.

BRISK. I suppose that's because you laugh at your own jests, i'gad, ha,
ha, ha.

LORD FROTH. He, he, I swear though, your raillery provokes me to a
smile.

BRISK. Ay, my lord, it's a sign I hit you in the teeth, if you show 'em.

LORD FROTH. He, he, he, I swear that's so very pretty, I can't forbear.

CARE. I find a quibble bears more sway in your lordship's face than a
jest.

LORD TOUCH. Sir Paul, if you please we'll retire to the ladies, and
drink a dish of tea to settle our heads.

SIR PAUL. With all my heart. Mr. Brisk, you'll come to us, or call me
when you joke; I'll be ready to laugh incontinently.

SCENE V.

MELLEFONT, CARELESS, LORD FROTH, BRISK.

MEL. But does your lordship never see comedies?

LORD FROTH. Oh yes, sometimes; but I never laugh.

MEL. No?

LORD FROTH. Oh no; never laugh indeed, sir.

CARE. No! why, what d'ye go there for?

LORD FROTH. To distinguish myself from the commonalty and mortify the
poets; the fellows grow so conceited, when any of their foolish wit
prevails upon the side-boxes. I swear,--he, he, he, I have often
constrained my inclinations to laugh,--he, he, he, to avoid giving them
encouragement.

MEL. You are cruel to yourself, my lord, as well as malicious to them.

LORD FROTH. I confess I did myself some violence at first, but now I
think I have conquered it.

BRISK. Let me perish, my lord, but there is something very particular in
the humour; 'tis true it makes against wit, and I'm sorry for some
friends of mine that write;