SIR PAUL. Merry, gads-bud, I'm serious; I'll give thee five hundred pounds for every inch of him that resembles me; ah, this eye, this left eye! A thousand pounds for this left eye. This has done execution in its time, girl; why, thou hast my leer, hussey, just thy father's leer. Let it be transmitted to the young rogue by the help of imagination; why, 'tis the mark of our family, Thy; our house is distinguished by a languishing eye, as the house of Austria is by a thick lip. Ah! when I was of your age, hussey, I would have held fifty to one, I could have drawn my own picture--gads-bud I could have done--not so much as you, neither; but--nay, don't blush. CYNT. I don't blush, sir, for I vow I don't understand. SIR PAUL. Pshaw, pshaw, you fib, you baggage, you do understand, and you shall understand; come, don't be so nice. Gads-bud, don't learn after your mother-in-law my lady here. Marry, heaven forbid that you should follow her example; that would spoil all indeed. Bless us! if you should take a vagary and make a rash resolution on your wedding night, to die a maid, as she did; all were ruined, all my hopes lost. My heart would break, and my estate would be left to the wide world, he? I hope you are a better Christian than to think of living a nun, he? Answer me? CYNT. I'm all obedience, sir, to your commands. LADY PLYANT. [_Having read the letter_.] O dear Mr. Careless, I swear he writes charmingly, and he looks charmingly, and he has charmed me, as much as I have charmed him; and so I'll tell him in the wardrobe when 'tis dark. O criminy! I hope Sir Paul has not seen both letters. [_Puts the wrong letter hastily up_, _and gives him her own_.] Sir Paul, here's your letter; to-morrow morning I'll settle accounts to your advantage. SCENE IV. [_To them_] BRISK. BRISK. Sir Paul, gads-bud, you're an uncivil person, let me tell you, and all that; and I did not think it had been in you. SIR PAUL. O law, what's the matter now? I hope you are not angry, Mr. Brisk. BRISK. Deuce take me, I believe you intend to marry your daughter yourself; you're always brooding over her like an old hen, as if she were not well hatched, egad, he. SIR PAUL. Good strange! Mr. Brisk is such a merry facetious person, he, he, he. No, no, I have done with her, I have done with her now. BRISK. The fiddles have stayed this hour in the hall, and my Lord Froth wants a partner, we can never begin without her. SIR PAUL. Go, go child, go, get you gone and dance and be merry; I'll come and look at you by and by. Where's my son Mellefont? LADY PLYANT. I'll send him to them, I know where he is. BRISK. Sir Paul, will you send Careless into the hall if you meet him? SIR PAUL. I will, I will, I'll go and look for him on purpose. SCENE V. BRISK _alone_.