The Busie Body by Susanna Centlivre
page 22 of 136 (16%)
page 22 of 136 (16%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
_Marpl._ Me! why I live for no other purpose--Sir _George_, I have the Honour to be carest by most of the reigning Toasts of the Town, I'll tell 'em you are the finest Gentleman-- Sir _Geo._ No, no, prithee let me alone to tell the Ladies--my Parts--can you convey a Letter upon Occasion, or deliver a Message with an Air of Business, Ha! _Marpl._ With the Assurance of a Page and the Gravity of a Statesman. Sir _Geo._ You know _Miranda!_ _Marpl._ What, my Sister _Ward?_ Why, her Guardian is mine, we are Fellow Sufferers: Ah! he is a covetous, cheating, sanctify'd Curmudgeon; that Sir _Francis Gripe_ is a damn'd old-- _Char._ I suppose, Friend, you forget that he is my Father-- _Marpl._ I ask your Pardon, _Charles_, but it is for your sake I hate him. Well, I say, the World is mistaken in him, his Out-side Piety, makes him every Man's Executor, and his Inside Cunning, makes him every Heir's Jaylor. Egad, _Charles_, I'm half persuaded that thou'rt some _Ward_ too, and never of his getting: For thou art as honest a Debauchee as ever Cuckolded Man of Quality. Sir _Geo._ A pleasant Fellow. _Cha._ The Dog is Diverting sometimes, or there wou'd be no enduring his Impertinence: He is pressing to be employ'd and willing to execute, but |
|