Giant. Well, Seigniors, since you
come with our Uncle's liking, we give ye leave to hope, hope- and be
happy- [They go out with Harlequin. Feth. Egad, and that's great and
gracious- Enter Willmore and an Operator. Will. Well, Gentlemen, and
how like you the Ladies? Blunt. Faith, well enough for the first
Course, Sir. Will. The Uncle, by my indeavour, is intirely yours- but
whilst the Baths are preparing, 'twould be well if you would think of
what Age, Shape, and Complexion you would have your Ladies form'd in.
Feth. Why, may we chuse, Mr. Doctor? Will. What Beauties you please.
Feth. Then will I have my Giant, Ned, just such another Gentlewoman as
I saw at Church to day- and about some fifteen. Blunt. Hum, fifteen- I
begin to have a plaguy Itch about me too, towards a handsome Damsel of
fifteen; but first let's marry, lest they should be boiled away in
these Baths of Reformation. Feth. But, Doctor, can you do all this
without the help of the Devil? Will. Hum, some small Hand he has in
the Business? we make an Exchange with him, give him the clippings of
the Giant for so much of his Store as will serve to build the Dwarf.
Blunt. Why, then mine will be more than three Parts Devil, Mr. Doctor.
Will. Not so, the Stock is only Devil, the Graft is your own little
Wife inoculated.
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