you pride, folly, affectation, wantonness, inconstancy,
covetousness, dissimulation, malice and ignorance, all in one piece.
Then I can shew you lying, foppery, vanity, cowardice, bragging,
lechery, impotence, and ugliness in another piece; and yet one of
these is a celebrated beauty, and t'other a professed beau. I have
paintings too, some pleasant enough.

MRS FRAIL. Come, let's hear 'em.

SCAN. Why, I have a beau in a bagnio, cupping for a complexion, and
sweating for a shape.

MRS FRAIL. So.

SCAN. Then I have a lady burning brandy in a cellar with a hackney
coachman.

MRS FRAIL. O devil! Well, but that story is not true.

SCAN. I have some hieroglyphics too; I have a lawyer with a hundred
hands, two heads, and but one face; a divine with two faces, and one
head; and I have a soldier with his brains in his belly, and his
heart where his head should be.

MRS FRAIL. And no head?

SCAN. No head.

MRS FRAIL. Pooh, this is all invention. Have you never a poet?