SCENE III.

OLD MIRABEL'S _House_.

_Enter_ DURETETE.

_Dur._ My friend has forsaken me, I have abandoned my mistress, my time lies heavy upon my hands, and my money burns in my pocket--But now I think on't, my myrmidons are upon duty to-night; I'll fairly stroll down to the guard, and nod away the night with my honest lieutenant, over a flask of wine, a story, and a pipe of tobacco. [_Going off_, BISARRE _meets him_.

_Bis._ Who comes there? stand!

_Dur._ Heyday, now she's turned dragoon!

_Bis._ Lookye, sir, I'm told you intend to travel again.--I design to wait on you as far as Italy.

_Dur._ Then I'll travel into Wales.

_Bis._ Wales! What country's that?

_Dur._ The land of mountains, child; where you're never out of the way, 'cause there's no such thing as a highroad.

_Bis._ Rather, always in a high road, because you travel all upon hills; but be't as it will, I'll jog along with you.

_Dur._ But we intend to sail to the East Indies.

_Bis._ East, or West, 'tis all one to me; I'm tight and light, and the fitter for sailing.

_Dur._ But suppose we take through Germany, and drink hard?