L. Ogle. I'm ſorry to ſee you ſo dull, Sir—What poor things, Mr. Sterling, theſe very young fellows are! they make love with faces, as if they were burying the dead—though, indeed, a marriage ſometimes may be properly called a burying of the living—eh, Mr. Sterling?—
Sterl. Not if they have enough to live upon, my Lord—Ha, ha, ha.
Cant. Dat is all Monſieur Sterling tink of.
| Sir John. Prithee, Lovewell, come with me into the garden; I have ſomething of conſequence for you, and I muſt communicate it directly. | apart. | |
| Lovew. We'll go together— | ||
| If your Lordſhip and Mr. Sterling pleaſe, we'll prepare the ladies to attend you in the garden. |
Sterl. My girls are always ready, I make 'em riſe ſoon, and to-bed early; their huſbands ſhall have 'em with good conſtitutions, and good fortunes, if they have nothing elſe, my Lord.
L. Ogle. Fine things, Mr. Sterling!
Sterl. Fine things, indeed, my Lord!—Ah, my Lord, had not you run off your ſpeed in your youth, you had not been ſo crippled in your age, my Lord.
L. Ogle. Very pleaſant, I proteſt, He, he, he.— [Half-laughing.
Sterl. Here's Mounſeer now, I ſuppoſe, is pretty near your Lordſhip's ſtanding; but having little to eat, and little to ſpend, in his own country, he'll wear three of your Lordſhip out—eating and drinking kills us all.
L. Ogle. Very pleaſant, I proteſt—What a vulgar dog! [Aſide.
Cant. My Lor ſo old as me!—He is ſhicken to me—and look like a boy to pauvre me.
Sterl. Ha, ha, ha. Well ſaid, Mounſeer—keep to that, and you'll live in any country of the world—Ha, ha, ha.—But, my Lord, I will wait upon you into the garden; we have but a little time to break-
