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SCENE II] LOVE FOR LOVE 227<br />
Mrs. Fore. Here 'tis with all my heart.<br />
Mrs. Frail. Well, as an earnest of friendship and confidence,<br />
I'll acquaint you with a design that I have. To<br />
tell truth, and speak openly one to another, I'm afraid the<br />
world have observed us more than we have observed one<br />
another. You have a rich husband, and are provided for;<br />
I am at a loss, and have no great stock either of fortune or<br />
reputation; and therefore must look sharply about me.<br />
Sir Sampson has a son that is expected tonight; and by<br />
the account I have heard of his education, can be no conjuror;<br />
the estate you know is to be made over to him:—<br />
now if I could wheedle him, sister, ha? you understand<br />
me? Mrs. Fore. I do; and will help you to the utmost of my<br />
power.—And I can tell you one thing that falls out luckily<br />
enough; my awkward daughter-in-law, who you know is<br />
designed to be his wife, is grown fond of Mr. Tattle; now<br />
if we can improve that, and make her have an aversion<br />
for the booby, it may go a great way towards his liking<br />
you. Here they come together; and let us contrive some<br />
way or other to leave 'em together.<br />
Enter TATTLE and Miss PRUE.<br />
Prue. Mother, mother, mother, look you here!<br />
Mrs. Fore. Fy, fy, miss! how you bawl.—Besides, I have<br />
told you, you must not call me mother.<br />
Prue. What must I call you then? are you not my father's<br />
wife?<br />
Mrs. Fore. Madam; you must say madam.—By my soul,<br />
I shall fancy myself old indeed, to have this great girl call<br />
me mother!—Well, but, miss, what are you so overjoyed at?<br />
Prue. Look you here, madam, then, what Mr. Tattle has<br />
given me.—Look you here, cousin, here's a snuff-box; nay,<br />
there's snuff in't;—here, will you have any?—Oh good! how<br />
sweet it is.—Mr. Tattle is all over sweet, his peruke is<br />
sweet, and his gloves are sweet, and his handkerchief is<br />
sweet, pure sweet, sweeter than roses,—Smell him, mother,<br />
madam, I mean.—He gave me this ring for a kiss.<br />
Tat. O fy, miss! you must not kiss and tell.<br />
Prue. Yes; I may tell my mother.—And he says he'll give<br />
me something to make me smell so.—[To TATTLE.] Oh<br />
pray lend me your handkerchief.—Smell, cousin; he says,<br />
he'll give me something that will make my smocks smell
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