LORD FROTH. Oh, foy, don't misapprehend me; I don't say so, for I often smile at your conceptions. But there is nothing more unbecoming a man of quality than to laugh; 'tis such a vulgar expression of the passion; everybody can laugh. Then especially to laugh at the jest of an inferior person, or when anybody else of the same quality does not laugh with one--ridiculous! To be pleased with what pleases the crowd! Now when I laugh, I always laugh alone. BRISK. I suppose that's because you laugh at your own jests, i'gad, ha, ha, ha. LORD FROTH. He, he, I swear though, your raillery provokes me to a smile. BRISK. Ay, my lord, it's a sign I hit you in the teeth, if you show 'em. LORD FROTH. He, he, he, I swear that's so very pretty, I can't forbear. CARE. I find a quibble bears more sway in your lordship's face than a jest. LORD TOUCH. Sir Paul, if you please we'll retire to the ladies, and drink a dish of tea to settle our heads. SIR PAUL. With all my heart. Mr. Brisk, you'll come to us, or call me when you joke; I'll be ready to laugh incontinently. SCENE V. MELLEFONT, CARELESS, LORD FROTH, BRISK. MEL. But does your lordship never see comedies? LORD FROTH. Oh yes, sometimes; but I never laugh. MEL. No? LORD FROTH. Oh no; never laugh indeed, sir. CARE. No! why, what d'ye go there for? LORD FROTH. To distinguish myself from the commonalty and mortify the poets; the fellows grow so conceited, when any of their foolish wit prevails upon the side-boxes. I swear,--he, he, he, I have often constrained my inclinations to laugh,--he, he, he, to avoid giving them encouragement. MEL. You are cruel to yourself, my lord, as well as malicious to them. LORD FROTH. I confess I did myself some violence at first, but now I think I have conquered it. BRISK. Let me perish, my lord, but there is something very particular in the humour; 'tis true it makes against wit, and I'm sorry for some friends of mine that write; but, i'gad, I love to be malicious. Nay, deuce take me, there's wit in't, too. And wit must be foiled by wit; cut a diamond with a diamond, no other way, i'gad. LORD FROTH. Oh, I thought you would not be long before you found out the wit. CARE. Wit! In what? Where the devil's the wit in not laughing when a man has a mind to't? BRISK. O Lord, why can't you find it out? Why, there 'tis, in the not laughing. Don't you apprehend me? My lord, Careless is a very honest fellow, but harkee, you understand me, somewhat heavy, a little shallow, or so. Why, I'll tell you now, suppose now you come up to me--nay, prithee, Careless, be instructed. Suppose, as I was saying, you come up to me holding your sides, and laughing as if you would--well--I look grave, and ask the cause of this immoderate mirth. You laugh on still, and are not able to tell me, still I look grave, not so much as smile. CARE. Smile, no, what the devil should you smile at, when you suppose I can't tell you!