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be too familiar, too friendly, too true: and who about you prefumes to communicate 'em? Words and forms 6 only are for your ear, Sir.

Lycom. You know, Pyrrha, you was never received upon the foot of ceremony, but friendship; fo that' it would be more respectful if you was lefs fhy and lefs referved 'Tis your behaviour, Pyrrha, that keeps me at a distance.

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Ach. If I was wanting, Sir, either in duty to you or myfelf, my own heart would be the first to reproach me. -Your majefty's generofity is too folicitous upon my account; and your courtesy and affability may even " now detain you from affairs of importance.' -If you

have no commands, Sir, the princeffes expect me in the garden.

Lycom. Nay, pofitively, my dear Pyrrha, you fhall not go.

Ach. But why, Sir? For heaven's fake, what hath fet you a trembling ?-I fear, Sir, you are out of order.- -Who waits there?

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Lycom. I did not call, Pyrrha.

Ach. Let me then, Sir, know your commands.

'AIR XXIII. Altro giorno in compagnia.

Lycom. If my paffiou want explaining,

This way turn and read my eyes;

These will tell thee, without feigning,
• What in words I must disguise.

Ach. Why do you fix your eyes fo intenfely upon me?-Speak your pleasure, fpeak to me then. Why am I feized?-Spare me, Sir, for I have a " temper that can't bear provocation.

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Lycom. I know there are a thousand neceffary affec⚫tations of modefty, which women, in decency to themfelves, practife with common lovers before compliance. -But my paffion, Pyrrha, deferves fome diftinc

• tion.'

Ach. I beg you then, Sir, don't lay violent hands upon me.

Lycom. The prefent you refufed from Diphilus accept from me.

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MISS BROWN in the Character of POLLY. As I am : your Servant, Sir, my daty oblige not to contradict you;

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Ach. Why will you perfift?-Nay, dear Sir, I can't answer for my paffions.

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Lycom. 'Tis not Diphilus, but I give it you.' Acb. That Diphilus, Sir, is your enemy. Lycom. 'Tis I that offer it.

• Ach.' Your very worst enemy, your flatterer. Lycom. You fhould ftrive, child, to conquer these extravagant paffions.

Ach. How I despise that fellow! that pimp, that • pandar!'

AIR XXIV. Trip to the Landry.

How unhappy are the great,

Thus begirt with fervile flaves!

Such with praise your reafon cheat.
Flatt'rers are the meanest knaves.
They, in friendfhip's guife, accoft you;
Falfe in all they fay or do.

When these wretches have ingrofs'd you,

Who's the flave, Sir, they or you?

Lycom. Is this reproachful language, Pyrrha, befitting my presence?

Ach. Nay, dear Sir, don't worry me. By Jove, you'll provoke me.'

Lycom. Your affectation, Pyrrha, is intolerable. There's enough of it.

-Thofe looks of averfion are

• infupportable.'-I will have no struggling.
Ach. Then, Sir, I must have no violence.

'AIR XXV. As I walked along Flect-Street.
Lycom. When the fort on no condition
Will admit the gen'rous foe,

Parley but delays fubmiffion;

'We by storm fhou'd lay it low.'

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I am in earneft, lady.'I will have no trifling, no coquetting; you may ipare thofe little aris of " women, for my paffion is warm and vehement enough without 'em.'-Do you know, Pyrrha, that obedience is your duty?

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Ach. I know my duty, Sir; and, had it not been fo that fycophant, Diphilus, perhaps you had known yours. Lycom. I am not, lady, to be awed and frightened by ftern looks and frowns.' -Since your obftinate behaviour then makes violence neceffary

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Ach. You make felf-prefervation, Sir, as neceffary. Lycom. I won't be refused.

AIR XXVI. The Lady's New-Year's Gift.

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Lycom. Never was fuch a termagant!
Ach. By Jove, never was fuch an infult!

Lycom. Will you?

fuch ftrength!'

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Dare you?.

Never was

[Achilles pushes him from him with great violence,

and throws him down.

Ach. Defift then.

Lycom. Audacious fury, know you what you have • done?

• AIR XXVII. Puppet Shew Trumpet Tune.

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[Achilles bolding Lycomedes down.]

Ach. What heart hath not courage, by force affail'd,
To brave the most defperate fight?

'Tis juftice and virtue that hath prevail'd;
Power muft yield to right.

Lycom. Am I fo ignominiously to be got the better • of!

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Lycom. By a woman!

Ach. You now, Sir, find you had acted a greater

part,

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