SCENE IV.

_An Eating-house. Bottles of Wine on the table._ PALAMEDE, _and_ DORALICE, _in Man's Habit._

_Dor._ [_Aside._] Now cannot I find in my heart to discover myself, though I long he should know me.

_Pala._ I tell thee, boy, now I have seen thee safe, I must be gone: I have no leisure to throw away on thy raw conversation; I am a person that understands better things, I.

_Dor._ Were I a woman, oh how you would admire me! cry up every word I said, and screw your face into a submissive smile; as I have seen a dull gallant act wit, and counterfeit pleasantness, when he whispers to a great person in a play-house; smile, and look briskly, when the other answers, as if something of extraordinary had past betwixt them, when, heaven knows, there was nothing else but,--What a clock does your lordship think it is? And my lord's _repartee_ is,--It is almost park-time: or, at most,--Shall we out of the pit, and go behind the scenes for an act or two--And yet such fine things as these would be wit in a mistress's mouth.

_Pala._ Ay, boy; there dame Nature's in the case: He, who cannot find wit in a mistress, deserves to find nothing else, boy. But these are riddles to thee, child, and I have not leisure to instruct thee; I have affairs to dispatch, great affairs; I am a man of business.

_Dor._ Come, you shall not go: You have no affairs but what you may dispatch here, to my knowledge.

_Pala._ I find now, thou art a boy of more understanding than I thought thee; a very lewd wicked boy: O' my conscience, thou would'st debauch me, and hast some evil designs upon my person.

_Dor._ You are mistaken, sir; I would only have you shew me a more lawful reason why you would leave me, than I can why you should not, and I'll not stay you; for I am not so young, but I understand the necessities of flesh and blood, and the pressing occasions of mankind, as well as you.

_Pala._ A very forward and understanding boy! thou art in great danger of a page's wit, to be brisk at fourteen, and dull at twenty. But I'll give thee no further account; I must, and will go.

_Dor._ My life on it, your mistress is not at home.

_Pala._ This imp will make me very angry.--I tell thee, young sir, she is at home, and at home for me; and, which is more, she is a-bed for me, and sick for me.

_Dor._ For you only?

_Pala._ Aye, for me only.

_Dor._ But how do you know she's sick a-bed?

_Pala._ She sent her husband word so.

_Dor._ And are you such a novice in love, to believe a wife's message to her husband?

_Pala._ Why, what the devil should be her meaning else?

_Dor._ It may be, to go in masquerade, as well as you; to observe your haunts, and keep you company without your knowledge.

_Pala._ Nay, I'll trust her for that: She loves me too well, to disguise herself from me.

_Dor._ If I were she, I would disguise on purpose to try your wit; and come to my servant like a riddle,--Read me, and take me.

_Pala._ I could know her in any shape: My good genius would prompt me to find out a handsome woman: There's something that would attract me to her without my knowledge.

_Dor._ Then you make a load-stone of your mistress?

_Pala._ Yes, and I carry steel about me, which has been so often touched, that it never fails to point to the north pole.

_Dor._ Yet still my mind gives me, that you have met her disguised to-night, and have not known her.

_Pala._ This is the most pragmatical conceited little fellow, he will needs understand my business better than myself. I tell thee, once more, thou dost not know my mistress.

_Dor._ And I tell you once more, that I know her better than you do.

_Pala._ The boy's resolved to have the last word. I find I must go without reply. [_Exit._

_Dor._ Ah mischief, I have lost him with my fooling. Palamede, Palamede!

_He returns. She plucks off her peruke, and puts it on again when he knows her._

_Pala._ O heavens! is it you, madam?

_Dor._ Now, where was your good genius, that would prompt you to find me out?

_Pala._ Why, you see I was not deceived; you yourself were my good genius.

_Dor._ But where was the steel, that knew the load-stone? Ha?

_Pala._ The truth is, madam, the steel has lost its virtue: and, therefore, if you please, we'll new touch it.

_Enter_ RHODOPHIL; _and_ MELANTHA _in Boys habit._ RHODOPHIL _sees_ PALAMEDE _kissing_ DORALICE'S _hand._

_Rho._ Palamede again! am I fallen into your quarters? What? Engaging with a boy? Is all honourable?

_Pala._ O, very honourable on my side. I was just chastising this young villain; he was running away, without paying his share of the reckoning.

_Rho._ Then I find I was deceived in him.

_Pala._ Yes, you are deceived in him: 'tis the archest rogue, if you did but know him.

_Mel._ Good Rhodophil, let us get off _a-la derobbée_, for fear I should be discovered.

_Rho._ There's no retiring now; I warrant you for discovery. Now have I the oddest thought, to entertain you before your servant's face, and he never the wiser; it will be the prettiest juggling trick, to cheat him when he looks upon us.

_Mel._ This is the strangest caprice in you.

_Pala._ [_to_ DORALICE.] This Rhodophil's the unluckiest fellow to me! this is now the second time he has barred the dice when we were just ready to have nicked him; but if ever I get the box again--

_Dor._ Do you think he will not know me? Am I like myself?

_Pala._ No more than a picture in the hangings.

_Dor._ Nay, then he can never discover me, now the wrong side of the arras is turned towards him.

_Pala._ At least, it will be some pleasure to me, to enjoy what freedom I can while he looks on; I will storm the out-works of matrimony even before his face.

_Rho._ What wine have you there, Palamede?

_Pala._ Old Chios, or the rogue's damn'd that drew it.

_Rho._ Come,--to the most constant of mistresses! that, I believe, is yours, Palamede.

_Dor._ Pray spare your seconds; for my part I am but a weak brother.

_Pala._ Now,--to the truest of turtles! that is your wife, Rhodophil, that lies sick at home, in the bed of honour.

_Rho._ Now let us have one common health, and so have done.

_Dor._ Then, for once, I'll begin it. Here's to him that has the fairest lady of Sicily in masquerade to night.

_Pala._ This is such an obliging health, I'll kiss thee, dear rogue, for thy invention. [_Kisses her._

_Rho._ He, who has this lady, is a happy man, without dispute,--I'm most concerned in this, I am sure. [_Aside._

_Pala._ Was it not well found out, Rhodophil?

_Mel._ Ay, this was _bien trouvée_ indeed.

_Dor._ [_to_ MELANTHA.] I suppose I shall do you a kindness, to enquire if you have not been in France, sir?

_Mel._ To do you service, sir.

_Dor._ O, monsieur, _votre valet bien humble_. [_Saluting her._

_Mel._ _Votre esclave, monsieur, de tout mon coeur._ [_Returning the salute._

_Dor._ I suppose, sweet sir, you are the hope and joy of some thriving citizen, who has pinched him self at home, to breed you abroad, where you have learned your exercises, as it appears, most awkwardly, and are returned, with the addition of a new-laced bosom and a clap, to your good old father, who looks at you with his mouth, while you spout French with your man monsieur.

_Pala._ Let me kiss thee again for that, dear rogue.

_Mel._ And you, I imagine, are my young master, whom your mother durst not trust upon salt-water, but left you to be your own tutor at fourteen, to be very brisk and _entreprenant_, to endeavour to be debauched ere you have learned the knack of it, to value yourself upon a clap before you can get it, and to make it the height of your ambition to get a player for your mistress.

_Rho._ [_embracing_ MELANTHA.] O dear young bully thou hast tickled him with a _repartee_, i'faith.

_Mel._ You are one of those that applaud our country plays, where drums, and trumpets, and blood, and wounds, are wit.

_Rho._ Again, my boy? Let me kiss thee most abundantly.

_Dor._ You are an admirer of the dull French poetry, which is so thin, that it is the very leaf-gold of wit, the very wafers and whip'd cream of sense, for which a man opens his mouth, and gapes, to swallow nothing: And to be an admirer of such profound dulness, one must be endowed with a great perfection of impudence and ignorance.

_Pala._ Let me embrace thee most vehemently.

_Mel._ I'll sacrifice my life for French poetry. [_Advancing._

_Dor._ I'll die upon the spot for our country wit.

_Rho._ [_to_ MELANTHA.] Hold, hold, young Mars! Palamede, draw back your hero.

_Pala._ 'Tis time; I shall be drawn in for a second else at the wrong weapon.

_Mel._ O that I were a man, for thy sake!

_Dor._ You'll be a man as soon as I shall.

_Enter a Messenger to_ RHODOPHIL.

_Mess._ Sir, the king has instant business with you; I saw the guard drawn up by your lieutenant, Before the palace-gate, ready to march.

_Rho._ 'Tis somewhat sudden; say that I am coming. [_Exit Messenger._ Now, Palamede, what think you of this sport? This is some sudden tumult; will you along?

_Pala._ Yes, yes, I will go; but the devil take me if ever I was less in humour. Why the pox could they not have staid their tumult till to-morrow? Then I had done my business, and been ready for them. Truth is, I had a little transitory crime to have committed first; and I am the worst man in the world at repenting, till a sin be thoroughly done: But what shall we do with the two boys?

_Rho._ Let them take a lodging in the house, 'till the business be over.

_Dor._ What, lie with a boy? For my part, I own it, I cannot endure to lie with a boy.

_Pala._ The more's my sorrow, I cannot accommodate you with a better bed-fellow.

_Mel._ Let me die, if I enter into a pair of sheets with him that hates the French.

_Dor._ Pish, take no care for us, but leave us in the streets; I warrant you, as late as it is, I'll find my lodging as well as any drunken bully of them all.

_Rho._ I'll light in mere revenge, and wreak my passion, On all that spoil this hopeful assignation. [_Aside._

_Pala._ I'm sure we light in a good quarrel: Rogues may pretend religion, and the laws; But a kind mistress is the good old cause. [_Exuent._