_Cha._ A good Assurance! But heark ye, how came your Beautiful Countenance clouded in the wrong place? _Marpl._ I must confess 'tis a little _Mal-a-propos_, but no matter for that; a Word with you, _Charles_; Prithee, introduce me to Sir _George_--he is a Man of Wit, and I'd give ten Guinea's to-- _Cha._ When you have 'em, you mean. _Marpl._ Ay, when I have 'em; pugh, pox, you cut the Thread of my Discourse--I wou'd give ten Guinea's, I say, to be rank'd in his Acquaintance: Well, 'tis a vast Addition to a Man's Fortune, according to the Rout of the World, to be seen in the Company of Leading Men; for then we are all thought to be Politicians, or Whigs, or Jacks, or High-Flyers, or Low-Flyers, or Levellers--and so forth; for you must know, we all herd in Parties now. _Cha._ Then a Fool for Diversion is out of Fashion, I find. _Marpl._ Yes, without it be a mimicking Fool, and they are Darlings every where; but prithee introduce me. _Cha._ Well, on Condition you'll give us a true Account how you came by that Mourning Nose, I will. _Marpl._ I'll do it. _Cha._ Sir _George_, here's a Gentleman has a passionate Desire to kiss your Hand. Sir _Geo._ Oh, I honour Men of the Sword, and I presume this Gentleman is lately come from _Spain_ or _Portugal_--by his Scars. _Marpl._ No really, Sir _George_, mine sprung from civil Fury, happening last Night into the Groom-Porters--I had a strong Inclination to go ten Guineas with a sort of a, sort of a--kind of a Milk Sop, as I thought: A Pox of the Dice he flung out, and my Pockets being empty as _Charles_ knows they sometimes are, he prov'd a surly _North-Britain_, and broke my Face for my Deficiency. Sir _Geo._ Ha! ha! and did not you draw? _Marpl._ Draw, Sir, why, I did but lay my Hand upon my Sword to make a swift Retreat, and he roar'd out. Now the Deel a Ma sol, Sir, gin ye touch yer Steel, Ise whip mine through yer Wem. Sir _Geo._ Ha, ha, ha, _Cha._ Ha, ha, ha, ha, fase was the Word, so you walk'd off, I suppose. _Marp._ Yes, for I avoid fighting, purely to be serviceable to my Friends you know-- Sir _Geo._ Your Friends are much oblig'd to you, Sir, I hope you'll rank me in that Number. _Marpl._ Sir _George_, a Bow from the side Box, or to be seen in your Chariot, binds me ever yours. Sir _Geo._ Trifles, you may command 'em when you please. _Cha._ Provided he may command you-- _Marpl._ Me! why I live for no other purpose--Sir _George_, I have the Honour to be carest by most of the reigning Toasts of the Town, I'll tell 'em you are the finest Gentleman-- Sir _Geo._ No, no, prithee let me alone to tell the Ladies--my Parts--can you convey a Letter upon Occasion, or deliver a Message with an Air of Business, Ha! _Marpl._ With the Assurance of a Page and the Gravity of a Statesman. Sir _Geo._ You know _Miranda!_