_Foi_. Ah, Mrs. Gipsy, upon my shoul, now, gra, his complainings would mollify the marrow in your bones, and move the bowels of your commiseration! He veeps, and he dances, and he fistles, and he swears, and he laughs, and he stamps, and he sings; in conclusion, joy, he's afflicted _a-la-Francaise_, and a stranger would not know whider to cry or to laugh with him. {271} _Gip_. What would you have me do, doctor? _Foi_. Noting, joy, but only hide the Count in Mrs. Sullen's closet when it is dark. _Gip_. Nothing! is that nothing? it would be both a sin and a shame, doctor. _Foi_. Here is twenty louis-d'ors, joy, for your shame and I will give you an absolution for the shin. _Gip_. Sut won't that money look like a bribe? {279} _Foi_. Dat is according as you shall tauk it. If you receive the money beforehand, 'twill be _logice_, a bribe; but if you stay till afterwards, 'twill be only a gratification. _Gip_. Well, doctor, I 'll take it _logice_ But what must I do with my conscience, sir? _Foi_. Leave dat wid me, joy; I am your priest, gra; and your conscience is under my hands. _Gip_. But should I put the Count into the closet-- _Foi_. Vel, is dere any shin for a man's being in a closhet? one may go to prayers in a closhet. {290} _Gip_. But if the lady should come into her chamber, and go to bed? _Foi_. Vel, and is dere any shin in going to bed, joy? _Gip_. Ay, but if the parties should meet, doctor? _Foi_. Vel den--the parties must be responsible. Do you be gone after putting the Count into the closhet; and leave the shins wid themselves. I will come with the Count to instruct you in your chamber. {299} _Gip_. Well, doctor, your religion is so pure! Methinks I'm so easy after an absolution, and can sin afresh with so much security, that I 'm resolved to die a martyr to't Here's the key of the garden door, come in the back way when 'tis late, I 'll be ready to receive you; but don't so much as whisper, only take hold of my hand; I 'll lead you, and do you lead the Count, and follow me. [_Exeunt_. _Scrub_. [_Coming forward_.] What witchcraft now have these two imps of the devil been a-hatching here? 'There 's twenty louis-d'ors'; I heard that, and saw the purse.--But I must give room to my betters. [_Exit_. _Re-enter Aimwell, leading Dorinda, and making love in dumb show; Mrs. Sullen and Archer following_. _Mrs. Sul_. [_To Archer_.] Pray, sir, how d'ye like that piece? {313} _Arch_. Oh, 'tis Leda! You find, madam, how Jupiter comes disguised to make love-- _Mrs. Sul_. But what think you there of Alexander's battles? _Arch_. We only want a Le Brun, madam, to draw greater battles, and a greater general of our own. The Danube, madam, would make a greater figure in a picture than the Granicus; and we have our Ramillies to match their Arbela. {322} _Mrs. Sul_. Pray, sir, what head is that in the corner there?