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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

"The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 02"


_Non_. It goes against my heart to marry her to this Loveby; but,
what must be, must be.
_Enter_ LOVEBY.
_Const_. O, Mr Loveby! The welcomest man alive! You met Setstone,
I hope, that you came so opportunely?
_Lov_. No, faith, madam; I came of my own accord.
_Isa_. 'Tis unlucky; he's not prepared.
_Lov_. Look you, madam, I have brought the hundred pounds; the
devil was as punctual as three o' clock at a playhouse. Here; 'tis
right, I warrant it, without telling: I took it upon his word.
[_Gives it_.
_Const_. Your kindness shall be requited, servant: But I sent for
you upon another business. Pray, cousin, tell it him, for I am ashamed
to do't.
_Lov_. Ha! 'tis not that great belly, I hope. Is't come to that?
_Isa_. Hark you, Mr Loveby; a word with you.
_Lov_. A word with you, madam: Whither is your cousin bound?
_Isa_. Bound, sir?
_Lov_. Ay, bound: Look you, she's under sail, with a lusty
fore-wind.
_Non_. I sent for you, sir; but, to be plain with you, 'twas more
out of necessity than love.
_Lov_. I wonder, my lord, at your invincible ill-nature. You
forget the arrest, that I passed by: But this it is to be civil to
unthankful persons; 'tis feeding an ill-natured dog, that snarls while
he takes victuals from your hand.


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