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Congreve, William, 1670-1729

"The Way of the World"

[Goes to the door and hems.]
MRS. MAR. This is precious fooling, if it would pass; but I'll know
the bottom of it.
LADY. O dear Marwood, you are not going?
MRS. MAR. Not far, madam; I'll return immediately.

SCENE IX.

LADY WISHFORT, MRS. MILLAMANT, SIR WILFULL, MIRABELL.
SIR WIL. Look up, man, I'll stand by you; 'sbud, an she do frown,
she can't kill you. Besides--harkee, she dare not frown
desperately, because her face is none of her own. 'Sheart, an she
should, her forehead would wrinkle like the coat of a cream cheese;
but mum for that, fellow-traveller.
MIRA. If a deep sense of the many injuries I have offered to so
good a lady, with a sincere remorse and a hearty contrition, can but
obtain the least glance of compassion. I am too happy. Ah, madam,
there was a time--but let it be forgotten. I confess I have
deservedly forfeited the high place I once held, of sighing at your
feet; nay, kill me not by turning from me in disdain, I come not to
plead for favour.


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