FAIN. Well, I have an opinion of your success, for I believe
my lady will do anything to get an husband; and when she has this,
which you have provided for her, I suppose she will submit to
anything to get rid of him.
MIRA. Yes, I think the good lady would marry anything that
resembled a man, though 'twere no more than what a butler could
pinch out of a napkin.
MRS. FAIN. Female frailty! We must all come to it, if we live to
be old, and feel the craving of a false appetite when the true is
decayed.
MIRA. An old woman's appetite is depraved like that of a girl.
'Tis the green-sickness of a second childhood, and, like the faint
offer of a latter spring, serves but to usher in the fall, and
withers in an affected bloom.
MRS. FAIN. Here's your mistress.
SCENE V.
[To them] MRS. MILLAMANT, WITWOUD, MINCING.
MIRA. Here she comes, i'faith, full sail, with her fan spread and
streamers out, and a shoal of fools for tenders.--Ha, no, I cry her
mercy.
MRS. FAIN. I see but one poor empty sculler, and he tows her woman
after him.
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