SCAN. Mum, Tattle.

VAL. 'Sdeath, are not you ashamed?

ANG. O barbarous! I never heard so insolent a piece of vanity.
Fie, Mr Tattle; I'll swear I could not have believed it. Is this
your secrecy?

TATT. Gadso, the heat of my story carried me beyond my discretion,
as the heat of the lady's passion hurried her beyond her reputation.
But I hope you don't know whom I mean; for there was a great many
ladies raffled. Pox on't, now could I bite off my tongue.

SCAN. No, don't; for then you'll tell us no more. Come, I'll
recommend a song to you upon the hint of my two proverbs, and I see
one in the next room that will sing it. [Goes to the door.]

TATT. For heaven's sake, if you do guess, say nothing; Gad, I'm
very unfortunate.

SCAN. Pray sing the first song in the last new play.


SONG.

Set by Mr John Eccles.

I.