_Phil._ No, Mr. Tom, but I wish I were generally carried in a coach or chair, and of a fortune neither to stand nor go, but to totter, or slide, to be short-sighted, or stare, to fleer in the face, to look distant, to observe, to overlook, yet all become me; and, if I was rich, I could twire[123] and loll as well as the best of them. Oh, Tom! Tom! is it not a pity that you should be so great a coxcomb, and I so great a coquet, and yet be such poor devils as we are? _Tom._ Mrs. Phillis, I am your humble servant for that---- _Phil._ Yes, Mr. Thomas, I know how much you are my humble servant, and know what you said to Mrs. Judy, upon seeing her in one of her lady's cast manteaus: That any one would have thought her the lady, and that she had ordered the other to wear it till it sat easy; for now only it was becoming. To my lady it was only a covering, to Mrs. Judy it was a habit. This you said, after somebody or other. Oh, Tom! Tom! thou art as false and as base as the best gentleman of them all; but, you wretch, talk to me no more on the old odious subject--don't, I say. _Tom._ I know not how to resist your commands, madam. [_In a submissive tone, retiring._ _Phil._ Commands about parting are grown mighty easy to you of late. _Tom._ Oh, I have her; I have nettled and put her into the right temper to be wrought upon and set a-prating. [_Aside._]--Why, truly, to be plain with you, Mrs. Phillis, I can take little comfort of late in frequenting your house. _Phil._ Pray, Mr. Thomas, what is it all of a sudden offends your nicety at our house? _Tom._ I don't care to speak particulars, but I dislike the whole. _Phil._ I thank you, sir, I am a part of that whole. _Tom._ Mistake me not, good Phillis. _Phil._ Good Phillis! Saucy enough. But however---- _Tom._ I say, it is that thou art a part, which gives me pain for the disposition of the whole. You must know, madam, to be serious, I am a man, at the bottom, of prodigious nice honour. You are too much exposed to company at your house. To be plain, I don't like so many, that would be your mistress's lovers, whispering to you. _Phil._ Don't think to put that upon me. You say this, because I wrung you to the heart when I touched your guilty conscience about Judy. _Tom._ Ah, Phillis! Phillis! if you but knew my heart! _Phil._ I know too much on't. _Tom._ Nay, then, poor Crispo's[124] fate and mine are one. Therefore give me leave to say, or sing at least, as he does upon the same occasion-- "Se vedette," &c. [_Sings._] _Phil._ What, do you think I'm to be fobbed off with a song? I don't question but you have sung the same to Mrs. Judy too. _Tom._ Don't disparage your charms, good Phillis, with jealousy of so worthless an object; besides, she is a poor hussy, and if you doubt the sincerity of my love, you will allow me true to my interest. You are a fortune, Phillis. _Phil._ What would the fop be at now? In good time, indeed, you shall be setting up for a fortune!