_Dor._ Wou'd to the Lord you wou'd find some other Place to make your fine Speeches in! Don't you know that your dear Friend _Esop_'s coming to receive his Visits here? In this great downy Chair, your pretty little Husband Elect is to sit and hear all the Complaints of the Town: One of Wisdom's chief Recompences being to be constantly troubled with the Business of Fools. Pray, Madam, will you take the Gentleman by the Hand, and lead him into your Chamber; and when you are there, don't lie whining, and crying, and sighing, and wishing----[_Aside._] If he had not been more modest than wise, he might have set such a Mark upon the Goods before now, that ne'er a Merchant of 'em all wou'd have bought 'em out of his Hands. But young Fellows are always in the wrong: Either so impudent they are nauseous, or so modest they are useless. Go; pray get you gone together. _Euph._ But if my Father catch us, we are ruin'd. _Dor._ By my Conscience, this Love will make us all turn Fools. Before your Father can open the Door, can't he slip down the Back-stairs? I'm sure he may, if you don't hold him; but that's the old Trade. Ah--Well, get you gone, however----Hark----I hear the old Baboon cough; away! [_Ex. ~Oron.~ and ~Euph.~ running._] Here he comes, with his ugly Beak before him. Ah--a luscious Bedfellow, by my troth! _Enter ~Learchus~ and ~Esop~._ _Lear._ Well, _Doris_; what News from my Daughter? Is she prudent? _Dor._ Yes, very prudent. _Lear._ What says she? What does she do? _Dor._ Do? What shou'd she do? Tears her Cornet; bites her Thumbs; throws her Fan in the Fire; thinks 'tis dark Night at Noon-day; dreams of Monsters and Hobgoblins; raves in her Sleep of forc'd Marriage and Cuckoldom; cries, _Avaunt_ Deformity; then wakens on a sudden, with fifty Arguments at her Fingers-ends to prove the Lawfulness of Rebellion in a Child, when a Parent turns Tyrant. _Lear._ Very fine! But all this shan't serve her turn. I have said the Word, and will be obey'd----My Lord does her Honour. _Dor._ [_Aside._] Yes, and that's all he can do to her. [_To ~Lear~._] But I can't blame the Gentleman, after all; he loves my Mistress, because she's handsome; and she hates him, because he's ugly. I never saw two People more in the right in my Life. [_To ~Esop~._] You'll pardon me, Sir, I'm somewhat free. _Esop._ Why, a Ceremony wou'd but take up time. But, Governor, methinks I have an admirable Advocate about your Daughter. _Lear._ Out of the Room, Impudence: be gone, I say. _Dor._ So I will: But you'll be as much in the wrong when I'm gone, as when I'm here. And your Conscience, I hope, will talk as pertly to you as I can do. _Esop._ If she treats me thus before my face, I may conclude I'm finely handled behind my Back. _Dor._ I say the Truth here; and I can say no worse any where. [_Exit ~Doris~._