SCENE I.--_Covent Garden.

_Enter_ YOUNG BOOKWIT _and_ LATINE.

_Young Book._ This Roebuck has almost done my business. Rigby's an honest fellow, and would not poison us. The wine had good-humour, mirth, and joy in it. My blood beats high and frolic. What says my dear lackey? Ha!

_Lat._ Why, sir, I say, sir, that I am in so noble, so exalted a condition, that I almost forget I am your honour's footman.

_Y. Book._ Do but your business well to-night.

_Lat._ Who says the tongue stutters, legs falter, and eyes fail with drink? 'Tis false, my dear master, my tongue runs faster than ever; my legs so brisk and nimble, that I can't stand still; and my eyes are better than ever they were; for I see everything double--But the letter, the letter, I warrant I give it her.

_Y. Book._ Here, here, Jack, take it.

_Lat._ Let's come nearer the lamp. This is the foul copy of it that 'tis wrapped in. Let me judge. Now I'll be sedate. Let me read it again.

_Y. Book._ But you look cursedly fluttered; they'll say you're drunk. Let's see, I must comb your wig a little.

_Lat._ I shall be kicked for this letter here about the middle. You should not talk of joys so soon; you should write miserable a fortnight or three weeks longer--I shall be kicked.

_Y. Book._ What then? what then? A man of your philosophy must needs remember, the body's but the mere organ of the mind. Kicks come under the topic of things without. What shall I do for powder for this smart bob? [_Combs out his own wig into_ LAT'S.

_Lat._ 'Tis no matter, sir; powder comes under the notion of things without.

_Y. Book._ Oh! but ladies are no philosophers; but as to being drubbed (these stockings too), you must fix your imagination upon some other object, and you may, by force of thought, suspend your feeling. The body is but the instrument of the mind, and you may command an instrument.

_Lat._ No, sir, I'll have you to know, I'll save my carcass by mere dint of eloquence. You have no other orders?

_Y. Book._ No; but may persuasion, grace, and elocution hang on thy lips. But if you can come in to Victoria, she and the wine you've drank will inspire you. Farewell. [_Exit._

_Lat._ This is the enchanted castle which the lady fair inhabits. Ha! Mr. Simon, sir, I am your most humble servant. My dear friend----

_Enter_ SIMON.

_Sim._ Your servant, good sir; my lady is with Madam Victoria at cards. She'll lie here to-night--but all's ruined; they are both huge angry with your master. But Lettice, having taken a fancy to you, Mr. John, spoke up rarely, that she did indeed.

_Lat._ Can't one come to the speech of her?

_Sim._ I was ordered to have a strict eye to the door, and let nobody in whatever. I don't care for going up, because she'll see I have made a cap of one of the finest napkins, for which she'll make a plaguy noise.

_Lat._ Nay, nay, you are exactly of my mind; I love to avoid anger.

_Sim._ You are a little disguised in drink, though, Mr. John--but I ain't seen you, not I. Go straight up: Mrs. Lettice is in the ante-chamber.

_Lat._ I thank you, dear friend. My master bids me upon these occasions----[_Gives him money._

_Sim._ I beg your pardon, good Mr. John.

_Lat._ Look you, I am a servant as well as you; what do you mean, Mr. Simon? Come, come, time's precious. When your lady's married, all these vails will end.

_Sim._ Nay, I said behind your back, Mr. John, that you were very well spoken. Well, put up briskly. I'll stand your friend as much as one servant can to another, against all masters and mistresses whatever.

_Lat._ Thanks, good Mr. Simon. [_Exeunt._