LORD FROTH. Heaven, Sir Paul, you amaze me, of all things in the world. You are never pleased but when we are all upon the broad grin: all laugh and no company; ah, then 'tis such a sight to see some teeth. Sure you're a great admirer of my Lady Whifler, Mr. Sneer, and Sir Laurence Loud, and that gang. SIR PAUL. I vow and swear she's a very merry woman; but I think she laughs a little too much. LORD FROTH. Merry! O Lord, what a character that is of a woman of quality. You have been at my Lady Whifler's upon her day, madam? CYNT. Yes, my lord. I must humour this fool. [_Aside_.] LORD FROTH. Well, and how? hee! What is your sense of the conversation? CYNT. Oh, most ridiculous, a perpetual comfort of laughing without any harmony; for sure, my lord, to laugh out of time, is as disagreeable as to sing out of time or out of tune. LORD FROTH. Hee, hee, hee, right; and then, my Lady Whifler is so ready--she always comes in three bars too soon. And then, what do they laugh at? For you know laughing without a jest is as impertinent, hee! as, as-- CYNT. As dancing without a fiddle. LORD FROTH. Just i'faith, that was at my tongue's end. CYNT. But that cannot be properly said of them, for I think they are all in good nature with the world, and only laugh at one another; and you must allow they have all jests in their persons, though they have none in their conversation. LORD FROTH. True, as I'm a person of honour. For heaven's sake let us sacrifice 'em to mirth a little. [_Enter_ BOY _and whispers_ SIR PAUL.] SIR PAUL. Gads so.--Wife, wife, my Lady Plyant, I have a word. LADY PLYANT. I'm busy, Sir Paul, I wonder at your impertinence. CARE. Sir Paul, harkee, I'm reasoning the matter you know. Madam, if your ladyship please, we'll discourse of this in the next room. SIR PAUL. O ho, I wish you good success, I wish you good success. Boy, tell my lady, when she has done, I would speak with her below. SCENE X. CYNTHIA, LORD FROTH, LADY FROTH, BRISK. LADY FROTH. Then you think that episode between Susan, the dairy-maid, and our coachman is not amiss; you know, I may suppose the dairy in town, as well as in the country. BRISK. Incomparable, let me perish. But then, being an heroic poem, had you not better call him a charioteer? Charioteer sounds great; besides, your ladyship's coachman having a red face, and you comparing him to the sun--and you know the sun is called Heaven's charioteer. LADY FROTH. Oh, infinitely better; I'm extremely beholden to you for the hint; stay, we'll read over those half a score lines again. [_Pulls out a paper_.] Let me see here, you know what goes before,--the comparison, you know. [_Reads_.] For as the sun shines ev'ry day, So of our coachman I may say. BRISK. I'm afraid that simile won't do in wet weather; because you say the sun shines every day.