Now then for a jest or two. _Don Gomez_ shall begin:[330] And here he'le give us a Gingle upon the double meaning of a word. _I think_, says _Dominick_ the Fryar, _it was my good Angel that sent me hither so opportunely_. _Gomez_ suspects him brib'd for no creditable business and answers. Gom. _Ay, whose good Angels sent you hither, that you know best, Father._ These _Spaniards_ will entertain us with more of this fine Raillery. Colonel _Sancho_ in _Love Triumphant_ has a great stroak at it. He says his Bride _Dalinda_ is no more _Dalinda_, but _Dalilah_ the _Philistine_.[331] This Colonel as great a Soldier as he is, is quite puzzled at a _Herald_. He _thinks they call him_ Herod, _or some such Jewish Name_. Here you have a good Officer spoil'd for a miserable jest.[332] And yet after all, this _Sancho_ tho' he can't pronounce _Herald_, knows what 'tis to be _Laconick_, which is somewhat more out of his way. _Thraso_ in _Terence_[333] was a man of the same size in Sense, but for all that he does not quibble. _Albanact_ Captain of the Guards,[334] is much about as witty as _Sancho_. It seems _Emmeline_ Heiress to the Duke of _Cornwal_ was Blind. _Albanact_ takes the rise of his Thought from hence; And observes _that as Blind as she is, Coswald would have no blind Bargain of her_. _Carlos_ tells _Sancho_ he is sure of his Mistress,[335] and _has no more to do but to take out a License_. _Sancho_ replies, _Indeed I have her License for it_. _Carlos_ is somewhat angry at this Gingle, and cries, _what quibling too in your Prosperity_? Adversity it seems is the only time for _punning_. Truly I think so too. For 'tis a sign a Man is much Distress'd when he flies to such an Expedient. However, _Carlos_ needed not to have been so touchy: For He can stoop as low himself upon occasion. We must know then that _Sancho_ had made Himself a Hunch'd Back, to counterfeit the _Conde Alonzo_. The two Colonels being in the same Disguise, were just upon the edg of a Quarrel. After some Preliminaries in Railing, _Sancho_ cries, _Don't provoke me; I am mischeivously bent_. Carlos replies, _Nay, you are_ Bent _enough in Conscience, but I have a_ Bent Fist _for Boxing_. Here you have a brace of Quibbles started in a Line and a half. And which is worst of all, they come from _Carlos_, from a _Character_ of Sense; And therefore the poet, not the _Soldier_, must answer for them. I shall now give the _Reader_ a few Instances of the Courtship of the _Stage_, and how decently they treat the Women, and _Quality_ of both _Sexes_. The _Women_ who are secured from Affronts by Custom, and have a Privilege for Respect, are sometimes but roughly saluted by these Men of Address. And to bar the Defence, this Coarseness does not alwaies come from Clowns, and Women-haters; but from _Persons_ of Figure, neither singular, nor ill Bred. And which is still worse, The Satir falls on blindly without Distinction, and strikes at the whole _Sex_.