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Sir Patient Fancy: A COMEDY.
ACT the First.
Scene the First. A Roome.
'TIS much I owe to fortune, my dear Lucretia, for being so kind to make us Neighbours, where with ease we may continually exchange our Souls and thoughts without the atten∣dance of a Coach, and those other little For∣malities that make a business of a visit, it looks so like a Jour∣ney I hate it.
Attendance is that Curse to Greatness that confines the Soul, and spoils good Humour; we are free whilst thus alone, and can laugh at the abominable Fopperies of this Town.
And lament the numberless impertinences wherewith they continually plague all young Women of Quality.
Yet these are the pretious things our grave Parents still chuse out to make us happy with, and all for a filthy Jointure, the undeniable argument for our slavery to Fools.
Custom is unkind to our Sex, not to allow us free choice, but we above all Creatures must be forced to endure the formal recommendations of a Parent; and the more insupportable Ad∣dresses of an Odious Foppe, whilst the Obedient Daughter stands — thus — with her Hands pinn'd before her, a set