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122 WILLIAM CONGREVE [ACT i<br />
it, I mean you leave nobody for the company to laugh at. I<br />
think there I was with you, ha? Mcllefont.<br />
Mel. O' my word, Brisk, that was a home-thrust: you<br />
have silenced him.<br />
Brisk. Oh, my dear Mellefont, let me perish, if thou art<br />
not the soul of conversation, the very essence of wit, and<br />
spirit of wine!—The deuce take me, if there were three good<br />
things said, or one understood, since thy amputation from<br />
the body of our society.—He! I think that's pretty and<br />
metaphorical enough: egad I could not have said it out of<br />
thy company: Careless, ha?<br />
Care. Hum, ay, what is't?<br />
Bris^. D, man cœurl what is't? Nay gad I'll punish you<br />
for want of apprehension: the deuce take me if I tell you.<br />
Mel. No, no, hang him, he has no taste.—But, dear<br />
Brisk, excuse me, I have a little business.<br />
Care. Prithee get thee gone; thou seest we are serious.<br />
Mel. We'll come immediately, if you'll but go in, and<br />
keep up good-humour and sense in the company: prithee<br />
do, they'll fall asleep else.<br />
Brisk Egad, so they will!—Well I will, I will, gad, you<br />
shall command me from the zenith to the nadir.—But the<br />
deuce take me if I say a good thing till you come. But<br />
prithee, dear rogue, make haste, prithee make haste, I shall<br />
burst else.—And yonder's your uncle, my Lord Touchwood,<br />
swears he'll disinherit you, and Sir Paul Plyant threatens to<br />
disclaim you for a son-in-law, and my Lord Froth won't<br />
dance at your wedding to-morrow, nor, the deuce take me,<br />
I won't write your epithalamium—and see what a condition<br />
you're like to be brought to.<br />
Mel. Well, I'll speak but three words, and follow you.<br />
Brij^. Enough, enough.—Careless, bring your apprehension<br />
along with you. [Exit.<br />
Care. Pert coxcomb!<br />
Mel. Faith, 'tis a good-natured coxcomb, and has very<br />
entertaining follies: you must be more humane to him; at<br />
this juncture, it will do me service.' I'll tell you, I would<br />
have mirth continued this day at any rate; though patience<br />
purchase folly, and attention be paid with noise: there arc<br />
times when sense may be unseasonable, as well as truth.<br />
Prithee, do thou wear none to-day; but allow Brisk to have<br />
wit, that thou mayst seem a fool.
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