SCAN. Yes; all that have done him favours, if you will believe him.

MRS FRAIL. Ay, let me see those, Mr Tattle.

TATT. Oh, madam, those are sacred to love and contemplation. No
man but the painter and myself was ever blest with the sight.

MRS FRAIL. Well, but a woman -

TATT. Nor woman, till she consented to have her picture there too--
for then she's obliged to keep the secret.

SCAN. No, no; come to me if you'd see pictures.

MRS FRAIL. You?

SCAN. Yes, faith; I can shew you your own picture, and most of your
acquaintance to the life, and as like as at Kneller's.

MRS FRAIL. O lying creature! Valentine, does not he lie? I can't
believe a word he says.

VAL. No indeed, he speaks truth now. For as Tattle has pictures of
all that have granted him favours, he has the pictures of all that
have refused him: if satires, descriptions, characters, and
lampoons are pictures.

SCAN. Yes; mine are most in black and white. And yet there are
some set out in their true colours, both men and women. I can shew