_L. Ha._ Nay, good sage sister, you may as well talk to me [_Looking at herself as she speaks_], as sit staring at a book, which I know you can't attend. Good Dr. Lucas[22] may have writ there what he pleases, but there's no putting Francis Lord Hardy, now Earl of Brumpton, out of your head, or making him absent from your eyes; do but look at me now, and deny it if you can. _L. Sh._ You are the maddest girl----[_Smiling._ _L. Ha._ Look ye, I knew you could not say it and forbear laughing [_Looking over_ SHARLOT]. Oh, I see his name as plain as you do--F--r--a--n Fran, c--i--s cis, Francis, 'tis in every line of the book. _L. Sh._ [_Rising_] 'Tis in vain, I see, to mind anything in such impertinent company, but granting 'twere as you say as to my Lord Hardy, 'tis more excusable to admire another than one's self. _L. Ha._ No, I think not; yes, I grant you than really to be vain at one's person, but I don't admire myself. Pish! I don't believe my eyes have that softness [_Looking in the glass_], they ain't so piercing. No, 'tis only stuff the men will be talking. Some people are such admirers of teeth. Lord, what signifies teeth? [_Showing her teeth._] A very black-a-moor has as white teeth as I. No, sister, I don't admire myself, but I've a spirit of contradiction in me; I don't know I'm in love myself, only to rival the men. _L. Sh._ Ay, but Mr. Campley will gain ground even of that rival of his, your dear self. _L. Ha._ Oh! what have I done to you, that you should name that insolent intruder, a confident opinionative fop. No indeed, if I am, as a poetical lover of mine sighed and sung of both sexes-- The public envy, and the public care, I shan't be so easily catched--I thank him--I want but to be sure I should heartily torment him, by banishing him, and then consider whether he should depart this life, or not. _L. Sh._ Indeed, sister, to be serious with you, this vanity in your humour does not at all become you! _La. H._ Vanity! All the matter is we gay people are more sincere than you wise folks: All your life's an art. Speak your soul--look you there--[_Haling her to the glass_] are not you struck with a secret pleasure, when you view that bloom in your looks, that harmony in your shape, that promptitude of your mien? _L. Sh._ Well, simpleton, if I am at first so silly, as to be a little taken with myself, I know it a fault, and take pains to correct it. _L. Ha._ Pshaw! pshaw! talk this musty tale to old Mrs. Fardingale, 'tis too soon for me to think at that rate. _L. Sh._ They that think it too soon to understand themselves, will very soon find it too late. But tell me honestly, don't you like Campley? _L. Ha._ The fellow is not to be abhorred, if the forward thing did not think of getting me so easily. Oh! I hate a heart I can't break when I please. What makes the value of dear china, but that 'tis so brittle? Were it not for that, you might as well have stone mugs in your closet.