Mrs. Sul. Ha! ha! ha! my dear sister, let me embrace thee: now we are friends indeed; for I shall have a secret of yours, as a pledge for mine.

Dor. But do you think that I am so weak as to fall in love with a fellow at first sight?

Mrs. Sul. Pshaw! now you spoil all; why should not we be as free in our friendships as the men? I warrant you, the gentleman has got to his confidant already, has avowed his passion, toasted your health, and called you ten thousand angels.

Dor. Your hand, sister, I an't well.

Mrs. Sul. So—come, child, up with it—hem a little—so—now, tell me, don't you like the gentleman that we saw at church just now?

Dor. The man's well enough.

Mrs. Sul. Well enough! Is he not a demigod, a Narcissus, a star, the man i'the moon?

Dor. O, sister, I'm extremely ill.

Mrs. Sul.