erality of women, I grant you, these arts may
prevail.

_Sir H._ Generality of women! Why there again, you're out. They're all
alike, sir: I never heard of any one that was particular, but one.

_Colonel S._ Who was she, pray?

_Sir H._ Penelope, I think she's called, and that's a poetical story
too. When will you find a poet in our age make a woman so chaste?

_Colonel S._ Well, Sir Harry, your facetious humour can disguise
falsehood, and make calumny pass for satire; but you have promised me
ocular demonstration that she favours you: make that good, and I shall
then maintain faith and female to be as inconsistent as truth and
falsehood.

_Sir H._ But will you be convinced, if our plot succeeds.

_Colonel S._ I rely on your word and honour, Sir Harry.

_Sir H._ Then meet me half an hour hence at the Shakspeare; you must
oblige me by taking a hearty glass with me toward the fitting me out for
a certain project, which this night I undertake.

_Colonel S._ I guess, by the preparation, that woman's the design.

_Sir H._ Yes, 'faith.--I am taken dangerously ill with two foolish
maladies, modesty and love: the first I'll cure with Burgundy, and my
love by a night's lodging with the damsel. A sure remedy. _Probatum
est._

_Colonel S._ I'll certainly meet you, sir. [_Exeunt severally._

_Enter_ CLINCHER JUNIOR _and_ DICKY.

_Clinch. jun._ Ah, Dick, this London is a sad place, a sad vicious
place: I wish that I were in the country again. And this brother of
mine--I'm sorry he's so great a rake: I had rather see him dead than see
him thus.

_Dicky._ Ay, sir, he'll spend his whole estate at this same Jubilee. Who
d'ye think lives at this same Jubilee?

_Clinch. jun._ Who, pray?

_Dicky._ The Pope.

_Clinch. jun._ The devil he does! My brother go to the place where the
Pope dwells! He's bewitched, sure!

_Enter_ TOM ERRAND, _in_ CLINCHER SENIOR'S _Clothes_.

_Dicky._ Indeed, I believe he is, for he's strangely altered.

_Clinch. jun._ Altered! Why, he looks like a Jesuit already.

_Tom._ This lace will sell. What a blockhead was the fellow to trust me
with his coat! If I can get cross the garden, down to the water-side, I
am pretty secure.

_Clinch. jun._ Brother?--Alaw! Oh, gemini! Are you my brother?

_Dicky._ I seize you in the kings name, sir.

_Tom._ Oh, lord! should this prove some parliament man now!

_Clinch. jun._ Speak, you rogue, what are you?

_Tom._ A poor porter, and going of