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SCENE L—The Street. Enter DUGABD, and his man, PETIT, in riding hablts.

Dug. Sirrah, what's o'elock?

Petit. Turned of eleven, sir.

Dug. No more! We have rid a swinging pace from Nemours, since two this morning. Petit, run to Bousseau's and bespeak a dinner, at a louia d'or a head, to be ready by one.

Petit. How many will there be of you, sir?

Dug. Let me see—Mirabel one, Dureteto two, myself three—

Petit. And I four.

Dug. How now, sir? at your old travelling familiarity! When abroad, you had some freedom, for want of better company; but among my friends, at Paris, pray remember your distance. Begone, sir. (Exit Petit} This fellow'i wit was nooeesary

abroad, but he's too cunning for a domestic; I must dispu.se of him some way else. Who's here? Old Mirabel, and my sister !—my dearest sister!


Oriana. My brother! Welcome! Dug. Monsieur Mirabel, I'm heartily glad to see you.

Old Mir. Honest Mr. Dugard, by the blood of the Mirabels I I'm your most humble servant

Dug. Why, sir, you've cast your skin, sure; you're brisk and gay; lusty health about you; no sign of age, but your silver hairs.

Old Mir. Silver hairs! Then they are quicksilver hairs, sir. Whilst I have golden pockets, let my hairs be silver, an' they will. Ads bud! sir, I can dance, and sing, and drink, and—no, I can't wench. But Mr. Dugard, no news of my son Bob in all your travels?

Dug. Your son's come homo, sir.

Old Mir. Come home? Bob come bome? By the blood of the Mirabels! Mr. Dugard, what say you?

Oriana, Mr. Mirabel returned, sir?

Dug. He's certainly come, and you may see him within this hour or two. [it.

Old Mir. Swear it, Mr. Dugard, presently swear

Dug. Sir, he came to town with me this morning. I left him at the baignenr's being a little disordered after riding, and I shell see him again presently.

Old Mir. What! and he was ashamed to ask a blessing with his boots on! A nice dog! Well, and how fares the young rogne, eh?

Dug. A fine gentleman, sir; he'll be his own messenger.

Old Mir. A fine gentleman! But is the rogne like me still?

Dug. Why, yes, sir; he's very like his mother, and as like you, as modern sons are to their fathers. [him?

Old Mir. Why, sir, don't you think that I begat Dug. Why, yes, sir; you married his mother, and he inherits your estate. He's very like you, upon iny word.

Oriana. And pray, brother, what's become of his honest companion, Duretete?

Dug. Who, the Captain? The very same, he went abroad; he's the only Frenchman I ever knew, that could notchange. Your son, Mr. Mirabel, is more obliged to nature for that fellow's composition, than for his own: for he's more happy in Duretete's folly than his own wit. In short, they aro as inseparable as finger and thumb; but the first instance in the world, I believe, of opposition in friendship. [think ye?

Old Mir. Very well: will he be home to dinner,

bug. Sir, he has ordered me to bespeak a dinner, for us at Bousseau's, at a louis d'or a head

Old Mir. A louis d'or a head! Well said, Bob. By the blood of the Mirabels! Bob's improved. But, Mr. Dugard, was it so civil of Boh, to visit Monsieur Bousseau before his own natural father, eh? Harkee, Oriana, what think you now of a fellow that can eat and drink ye a whole louis d'or at a sitting? He must be as strong as Hercules; life and spirit in abundance. Before gad, I don't wonder at these men of quality, +hat their own wives can't serve them! A louis d'or ahead! 'tis enough to stock the whole nation with bastards; 't's, laith! Mr. Dugard, I leave you with your sister. [Exit.

Dug. Well, sister, I need not ask you how you do, your lootts resolve me; fair, tall, well-shaped; you're almost grown out of my remembrance.

Oriana. Why, truly, brother, I look pretty well, thank nature, and my toilet; I eat three mepis a day, am very merry when up, and sleep soundly when I'm down.

Dug. But, sister, you remember that upon my going abroad, you would choose this old gentleman for your guardian; he's no more related to our family than Prester-John, and I have no reason to think you mistrusted my management of your fortune; therefore, pray be so kind as to tell me, without reservation, the trne cause of making such a choice.

Oriana, Lookye, brother, you were going a rambling, and 'twas proper, lest i should go a rambling too, that somebody should take core of me. Old Monsieur Mirabel is an honest gentleman, was our father's friend, and has a young lady in his house, whose company I like, and who has chosen him for Tior guardian as welt as I.

Dug. Who, Mademoiselle Bisarre?

Oriana. The same: we lived nerrily together, I

without scandal or reproach; we make much of the old gentleman between us, and he takes care of us; all the week we dance and sing, and upon Sundays, we go first to church, and then to the play. Now, brother, besides these motives for choosing this gentleman as my guardian, perhaps I had some private reasons.

Dug. Not so private as you imagine, sister; your love to young Mirabel is no secret, I can assure you; but Se public, that all your friends are ashamed on't.

Oriana, 0' my word, then, my friends are very bashful; though I'm afraid, sir, that those people are not ashamed enough at their own crimes, who have so many blushes to spare for the faults of their neighbours.

Dug. Ay, but, sister, the people say—

Oriana, Psha! hang the people! they'll talk treason and profane their maker; must we, therefore, infer, that our king is a tyrant, and religion a cheat? Lookye, brother; their court of inquire is a tavern, and their informer, claret; they think as they drink, and swallow reputations like loaches; a lady's health goes briskly round with the glass, but her honour is lost in the toast

Dug. Ay, but, sister, there is still something—

Oriana. If there be something, brother, 'tis none of the people's something: marriage is my thing, and I'll stick to't.

Dug. Marriage! young Mirabel marry! he'll build churches sooner. Take heed, sister, though your honour stood proof to his home-bred assaults, you must keep a stricter guard for the future: he has now got the foreign air, and the Italian softness; his wit's improved by converse, his behaviout finished by observation, and his assurance confirmed by success. Sister, I can assure you he has made his conqnests; and 'tis a plagne upon your sex, to be the soonest deceived by those very men that you know have been false to others. But then, sister, he's as fickle—

Oriana. For God's sake, brother, tell me no more of his faults, for if you do, I shall run mad for him: say no more, sir; let me but get him into the bands of matrimony, I'll spoil his wandering, I warrant him; I'll do his business that way, never fear

Dug. Well, sister, I won't pretend to understand the engagements between you and your lover; I expect when you have need of my counsel or assistance, you will let me know more of your affairs. Mirabel is a gentleman, and as far as my honour and interest can reach, you may command me to the furtherance of your happiness: in the meantime, stster, I have a great mind to make you a present of another bumble servant; a fellow that I took up at Lyons, who has served me honestly ever since.

Oriana. Then why will you part with him? Dug. He has gained So insufferably on my goodhumour, that he's grown too familiar; but the fellow's cunning, and may be serviceable to you in your affair with Mirabel. Here he comes.

Enter PETIT.
Well, sir, have you been at Bousseau's?

Petit. Yes, sir; and who should I find there but Mr. Mirabel and the Captain, hatching as warmly over a tub of ice, as two hen-pheasants over a brood. They would not let me bespeak anything, for they had dined before I came.

Dug. Come, sir, yousball serve my sister; 1 shall still continne kind to you; and if your lady recommends your diligence upon trial, I'll use my interest to advance yon. Wait on your lady home, retit.


Petit. A chair! a chair! a chair! Oriana. No, no, I'll waik home; 'tis but next door. [Exeunt.

SCENE IL—A Tavern. YOUNG MIRABEL and DURETETE discover.% rising from table. Y. Mir. Welcome to Paris once more, my dear Captain; we have eat heartily, drank roundly, pa d plentifully, and let it go for once. 1 !ked every thing but our women; they looked eo lean and tawdry, poor creatures! 'Tis a sure sign the army is not paid. Give me the plump 'Venetian, brisk and sanguine, that smiles upon me like the glowing sun, and meets my lips like sparkling wine, her person shining as the glass, and spirit like the foaming liquor.

Bur Ah, Mirabel, Italy, I grant you; but for our women here in France, they are such thin, brown, fallen jades, a man may as well make a bed-fellow of a cane-chair.

Y. Mir. France! A light, unseasoned country; nothing but feathers, foppery, and fashions. There's nothing on this side the Alps worth my humble service t'ye. Ha! Homa la Santa! Italy for my money: Their customs, gardens, buildings, paintings, music, policies, wine and women! the paradise of the world! not pestered with a parcel of precise, old, gouty fellows, that would debar their children every pleasure that they themselves are past the sense of: commend me to the Italian familiarity—"Here, son, there's tifty crowns; go pay your girl her week's allowance."

Dur. Ay, these are your fathers for you, that understand the necessities of young men; not like our musty dads, who, because they cannot lish themselves, would muddy the water and spoil the sport of them that can. But now you talk of the plump, what d'vo think of a Dutch woman?

Y. Mir. A Dutch woman's too compact, nay, every thing among them is so; a Dutch man is thick, a Dutch woman is squab, a Dutch horse is round, a Dutch dog is short, a Dutch ship is broad bottomed; and, in ssort, one would swear, that the whole product of the country were cast hi the same mould with tjeir cheeses.

Dur. Ay, but Mirabel, you have forgot the English ladies.

Y. Mir. The women of England were excellent, did they not take such insufferable pains to ruin, what nature has made so incomparably well; they would be delicate creatures, indeed, could they but thoroughly arrive at the French mien, or entirely let it alone; for they only spoil a very good air of their own, by an awkward imitation of ours. But, come, Duretete, let us mind the business in hand; mistresseswe must have, and must take up with the manufacture of the place; and upon a competent diligence, we shall find those in Paris shall match the Italians from top to toe.

Dur. Ay, Mirabel, you will do well enough, but what will become of your friend? you know, I am Ko plaguy bashful; so naturally an ass upon these occasions, that—

Y. Mir. Paha! you must be bolder, man! Travel three years, and bring home such a baby as bnshfulness! A great lusty fellow, and a soldier I fie upon it!

Dur. Lookye, sir, I can visit, and I can ogle a little, as thus, or thus, now. Then I can kiss abundantly; but if they chance to give me a forbidding look, as some women, you know, have a devilish cast with their eyes—or if they cry " What do you mean? what d'ye take me for? Fie, sir, re

member who I am, sir: a person of quality to be used at this rate!" 'Egad, I'm struck as flat as a frying-pan. * '

K Mir. Words of course! never mind them: turn you about upon your hoeL wtth * jOntee air; hum out the end of an old song; cut* cross-capSr, and at her again.

Dur. (Imitates him.) No, hang it! 'twill neeer do. Oons! what did my father mean, by stiofciog me up in an university, or to think that I should gain anything by my head, in a nation whose genins lies all in their heels! Well, if ever I come to have children of my own, they shall have the education of the country; they shall learn to dance before they can walk, and be taught to sing before they can speak.

Y. Mir. Come, come, throw off that childish humour; put on assurance, there's no avoiding it; stand all hazards; thou'rt a stout, lusty fellow, -and hast a good estate; look bluff, hector, you have a good side-box face, a pretty impudent face; so, that's pretty well. This fellow went abroad like an ox, and is returned like an asa (Aside.)

Dur. Let me see, now, how I look. (Pulls out a pocket-glass, and looks on it.) A side-box face, say you? Egad! I dont like it, MirabeL Fie, air, don't abuse your friends! I could not wear such a face for the best countess in Christendom.

Y. Mir. Why can't you, blockhead, as well as I?

Dur. Why, thou hast impudence to set a good face upon anything: I would change half my gold for half thy brass, with all my heart. Who comes here? Odso! Mirabel, your father.


Old Mir. Where's Bob? Dear Bobl

Y. Mir. Your blessing, sir!

Old Mir. My blessing? D—n ye, ye young rogne, why did not you come to see your father first, sirrah? My dear boy, I am heartily glad to see thee, my dear child, 'faith! Captain Duretete, lby the blood of the Mirabels, I'm yours! Well, my lads, yo look bravely, 'faith! Boh, hast got any money left? i. t t

Y. Mir. Not a farthing, sir.

Old Mir. Why then. I won't give thee a sous.

Y. Mir. I did but jest, here's ten pistoles.

Old Mir. Why, then, heto's ten more: I lovo to be charitable to those that don't want it. Well, and how do you like Italy, my boys?

Y. Mir. O, the garden of the world, sir! Rome, Naples, Venice, Milan, and a thousand others, all fine. [Chiari is very tine too.

Old Mir. Ay, say you so'! And they say, that

Dur. Indifferent, sir, very indifferent; a very scurvy air, the most unwholesome to a French consituation in the world.

K Mir. Psha! nothing on't: these rascally gazetteers have misinformed you.

Old Mir. Misinformed me? Oons, sir! were wo not beaten there?

j. Mir. Beaten, sir? Wo beaten?

Ola Mw. Why how was it, pray, sweet sir?

r, Mir. Sir, the Captain will tell you.

Dur. No, sir, your son will tell you.

K Mir. The Captain was in the action, sir.

Dur. Your son saw more than I, sir, for he was a looker-on.

Old Mir. Confound you both, for a brace of cowards! here are no Germans to overhear you. Wtiy don't so tell me how it was?

Y. Mir. Why, then, you must know, that we marched up a body of the linest, bravest^ welldressed fellows in the universe; our commander* at the head of us, all lace and feather, like so many beaux at a ball; I don't believe there was a man of them but could dance a charmer, morbleu!

Old Mir. Dance! very well, pretty fellows, 'faith!

Y. Mir. We capered up to their very trenches, there saw, peeping over, a parcel of scare-crow, olive-coloured, gunpowder fellows, as ugly as the devil

Dur. Egad! I shall never forget the looks of them, while I have breath to fetch.

Y. Mir. They were so civil, indeed, as to welcome Us with their cannon; hut, for the rest, we found them such unmannerly, rude, unsociable dogs, that we grew tired of their company, and so we e'en danced back again.

Old Mir. And did ye all come back?

Y. Mir. No, two or three thousand of us staid

Old Mir. Why, Boh, why? [behind.

Y. Mir. Psha! because they could not come that night. [night

Dur. No, sir, because they could not come that

Y. Mir" But come, sir, we were talking of something else; pray, how does your lovely charge, the fair Oriana?

Old Mir. fiipe, sir, just ripe; you'll find it better engaging with her than with the Germans, let mc tell you. And what would you say, my young Mars, if I had a Venus for thee too? Conic, Boh, your apartment is ready, and pray let your friend be my gnest too; you shall command the house between ye, and I'll be as merry as the best of you. [Exeunt.

SCENE L- Old Mirabel's house.
Bis. And you love this young rake, d'ye?
Oriana, Yes.

Bis. In spite of all his ill usage?
Or.ana. I can'thelp it.
Bis. What's the matter wi'ye?
Oriana. Pshaw!

Bit. Um! Before that any young, lying, swearing fiattering, rakehelly fellow, should play such tricks with me,-u, the devil take all your Cassandras, and Oleopatras for me. I warrant now, you'll play the fool when he comes, and say you love him: eh?

Oriana. Most certainly; I can't dissemble, Bisarre ; besides, 'tis past that, we're contracted.

Bis. Contracted; alack-a-day, poor thing! What, you have changed rings, or broken on old broad piece between you! 1 would make a fool of any fellow in France. Well, I must confess, I do love a little coqnetting with all my heart. My business should be to break gold with my lover one hour, and crock my promise the next; he should find me one day with a prayer-book in my hand, and with a play-book another. He should have my consent to buy the wedding-ring, and the next moment would I ask him his name.

Oriana. O, my dear, were there no greater tie upon my heart, than there is upon my consilience, I would soon throw the contract out of doors; but -the mischief on't is, 1 am so fond of being tied, that I'm forced to be just, and the strength of my passion keeps down the inclination of my sex.

Bis. But here's the old gentleman.

Enter OLD MlllABEL.

Old Mir. Wheie's my wenches? where's my two little girls? Eh, have a care - look to yourself, 'faith, they're a coming; tho travellers are a coming. Well, which of you two will bo my daughter-in-law now? Bosarre, Bisarre, what say you, madcap? Mirabel Is a pure wild fellow.

Bis. I like him the worse.

Old Mir. You lie, hussy, you like him the better, indeed you do. What say you, my t'other llttlo filbert, eh?

Oriana. I suppose the gentleman will choose for himself.air. [shall.

Old Mir. Why, that's discreetly said, and so he Enter MIRABEL and DUREtETE; tfiey salute the Ladies.

Boh, harkye, you shall marry one of these girls, sirrah!

J'. Mir. Sir, I'll marry them both, if you please.
Bis. (Aside.) He'll find that one may serve his


Old Mir. Both? why, you young dog, d'ye banter me? Come, sir, take your choice. Duretete, you shall have your choice, too, but Robin shall chooso first. Come, sir, begin. Well, which dy'e like? Y. Mir. Both.

Old Mir. But which will you marry?
Y. Mir. Neither.

Old Mir. Neither? Don't make me angry now, Bob; pray don't make mo angry. Lookye, sirrrah, if I dou'tdance at your wedding to morrow, I shall be very glad to dance at your grave. Y. Mir That's a bull, father. Old Mir. A bull! Why, how now, ungrateful sir, did I make thee a man, that thou shouldst make me a beast? [expression. Y. Mir. Your pardon, sir; I only meant your Old Mir. Harkye, Boh, learn better manners to your father before strangers. I won't be angry this time: but, oons! if ever you do't again, your rascal! Eemember what I say. [Exit.

Y. Mir. Psha! what does the old fellow mean by mewing me up with a couple of green girls? Come, Duretete, will you go? Oriana. I hope, Mr. Mirabel, you ha'n't forgot— Y. Mir. No, no, madam, I ha'n't forgot I have brought you a thousand little Italian curiosities: 1'H assure you, madam, as far as a hundred pistoles would reach, I ha'n't forgot the least circumstance. Oriana. Sir, you misunderstand me. Y. Mir. Odso! the relies, madam, from Bome. I 'do remember, now you made a vow of chastity before my departure; a vow of chastity or somothing like it - was it not, madam? Oriana. O, sir, I'm answered at present [Exit. K Mir. She was coming full mouth upon me with her contract: 'would I might dispatch t'ther! - Bur. Mirabel, that lady there, observe her; she's wondrous pretty, 'faith! and seems to have but few words; I like her mainly: speak to her, man, pr'ythee, speak to her.

Y. Mir. Madam, here's a gentleman, who declares—

Dur. Madam, don't believe him; I declare nothing. What the devil do you mean, man?

Y Mir. He says, madam, that you are as beautiful as an angel.

Bur. He tells a d—d lie, madam! I say no such thing. Are you mad, Mirablo? Why, I shall drop down with shame.

Y. Mir. And so, madam, not doubting but your ladyship may like him as well as he does you, I think it proper to leave you together. (Going, Duretete holds him.)

Bur. Hold, hold. Why, Mirabel, friend, suro you won't be so barbarous as to 'leave me alone! Prythee, speak to her for yoursolf, as it were, Lord, Lord, that a Frenchman should want impudenve.

Y.Mir. You look mighty demure, madam. She's deaf, Captain.

Dur. I had much rather have her dumb.

Y. Mir. The gravity of your air, madam, promises some extraordinary fruita from your study, which moves us with curiosity to inquire the subject of your ladyship's contemplation. Not a word!

bur. I hope in the Lord she's spee-bless: if she be, she's mine this moment Mirabel, d'ye think a woman's silence can be natural?

Bis. But the forms which logicians introduce, and which proceed from simple enumeration, are duhitable, and proceed only upon admittance.

Y.Mir. Hoyty toyty! what a plagne have we here? Plato in petticoats!

Dur. Ay, ay, let her go on, man; she talks in my own mother tongne.

Bit. 'Tis exposed to invalidity, from a contradictory instance; looks only upon common operations, and is infinite in its termination.

Y. Mir. Bare pedantry!

Dur. Axioms! axioms! self-evident principles!

/tis. Then the ideas wherewith the mind is preoccupate,—O gentlemen, I hope you'll pardon my coyitation; I was involved in a profound point of philosophy, but I shall discuss it somewhere else, being satisfied that the subject is not agreeable to you sparks, that profess the vanity of the times.


Y. Mir. Go thy way, good wife Bias. Do you hear, Duretete? Dost hear this starched piece of austerity?

Dur. She's mine, man, she's mine: my own talent to a T. 1'll match her in dialecties, 'faith; I was seven years at the university, man, nursed up with Barbaro, Celarunt, Darii, Kerio, Baralipton. Did you ever know, man, that 'twas metaphysies made me an ass? It was 'faith? Had she talked a word of singing, dancing, plays, fashions, or the like, I had foundered at the first step; but as she is —Mirabel, wish me joy I

J~. Mir. You don't mean marriage, I hope.

Mur. No, no, I am a man of more honour.

Y. Mir. Bravely resolved. Captain! now for thy credit: warm me this frozen snowhall; 'twill be a conqnest above the Alps!

Dur. But will you promise to be always near me?

Y. Mir. Upon all occasions, never fear.

Bur. Why, then, you shall see me in two moments make an induction from my love to her hand, from her hand to her month, from her mouth to ber heart, and so conclude in her bed, categorematice.

Y. Mir. Now the game begins, and my fool is entered. But here comes one to spoil my sport; now shall I be teased to death, with this old-fashioned contract! I should love her, too, if I mightdoitmy own way, but she'll do nothing without witnesses, forsooth: I wonder women can be so immodest I

Enter OBIANA. Well, madam, why d'ye follow me?

Oriana. Well, sir, why do you shun me?

Y. Mir. 'Tis my humour, madam; and I'm naturally swayed by inclination.

Oriana. Have you forgot our contract, sir?

Y. Mir. All I remember of that contract is, that it was made some three years ago; and that's enough, in conscience, to forget the rest on'L

Oriana. 'Tis sufficient, sir, to recollect the passing of it; for, in that circumstance, I presume, lies the force of the obligation.

Y. Mir. Ohligations, madam, that are forced upon the will, are no tie upon the conscience; 1 was a slave to my passion, when I passed the instrument, but the recovery of my freedom makes the .contract void.

Oriana. Come, Mr. Mirabel, these expressions I expected from the raillery of your humour, bat I hope for very different sentiments from your honour and generosity.

Y. Mir. Look ye, madam, as for my generosity, 'tis at your service, with all my heart: I'll keep you a coach ami six horses, if you please, only permit me to keep my honour to myself. Consider, madam, you have no such thing among ye, and 'tis a main point of policy to keep no faith with reprobates: thou art a pretty little reprobate, and so get thee about thy business.

Oriana. Well, sir, even all this I will allow to the gaiety of your temper; your travels have improved your talent of talking, but they are not of force, I hope, to impair your morals.

Y.Mir. Morals! why there'tis again now! I teh thee, child, there is not the least occasion for morals, in any business between j ou and I. Don't you know that, of all commerce in the world, there is no such cozenage and deceit, as in the traffic between man and woman? We study all our lives long, how to put tricks upon one another. No fowler lays abroad more nets for his game, nor a hunter for his prey, than you do, to catch poor innocent men. why do you sit three or four hours at your toilet in a morning? only with a villanous design to make some poor fellow a fool before night. What d'ye sigh for? What d'ye weep for? What d'ye pray for? why, for a hushand: that is, you implore Providence to assist you, in the just and pious design, of making the wisest of his creatures a fool, and the head of the creation a slave.

Oriana. Sir, I am proud of my power, and am resolved to use it

Y. Mir. Hold, hold, madam, not so fast i as you have variety of vanities to make coxcombs of us, so we have vows, oaths, and protestations, of all sorts and sizes, to make fools of you; and this, in short, my dear creature, is our preseut condition' I have sworn and lied briskly, to gain my ends of you; your ladyship has patched and painted violently, to gain your ends of me; but, since we are both disappointed, let us make a drawn battle, and part clear on both sides.

Oriana, With all my heart, sir; give me up my contract, and I'll never see your face again.

Y. Mir. Indeed, I won't child.

Oriana. What, sir! neither do one nor t'other.

Y. Mir. No, you shall die a maid; unless you please to be otherwise, upon my terms.

Oriana, What do you intend by this, sir?

Y. Mir. Why, to starve you into compliance: lookye, you shall never marry any man; and you had as good let me do you a kindness as a stranger.

Oriana. Sir, you're a—

Y. Mir. What am I, ma'am?

Oriana. A villain, sir.

Y.Mir. I'm glad on't; I never knew an honest fellow in my life, but was a villain upon these occasions. Han't yon drawn yourself, now, into a very pretty dilemma? ha, ha, ha! the poor lady has made a vow of virginity, when she thought of making a vow to the contrary. Was ever poor woman so cheated into chastity?

Oriana, Sir, my fortune is equal to yours, my friends as powerful. and both shall be put to the test, to do me justice.

Y. Mir. What! you'll force me to marry you will ye?

Oriana, The law shall.

Y. Mir. But the law can't force me to do any

thing else, can it?
Oriana. Pehal I despise thee, monster!

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