_Esop._ The deuce o'the Service; why, I thought they had been all in the Army. _Mrs. Fruit._ Not one, Sir. _Esop._ No, so it seems, by my Troth: Ten Sons that serve their Country, quotha! Monks, Attorneys, Scriveners and Excisemen, serve their Country with a Vengeance: you deserve to be rewarded, truly; you deserve to be hang'd, you wicked People, you. Get you gone out of my sight: I never was so angry in my Life. [_Exit ~Esop~._ _Mr. Fruit. to his Wife._] So; who's in the right now, you or I? I told you what wou'd come on't; you must be always a Breeding, and Breeding, and the King wou'd take Care of 'em, and the Queen wou'd take Care of 'em: And always some Pretence or other there was. But now we have got a great Kennel of Whelps, and the Devil will take Care of 'em, for aught I see. For your Sons are all Rogues, and your Daughters are all Whores; you know they are. _Mrs. Fruit._ What, you are a grudging of your Pains now, you lazy, sluggish, flegmatick Drone. You have a Mind to die of a Lethargy, have you? but I'll raise your Spirits for you, I will so. Get you gone home, go; go home, you idle Sot, you; I'll raise your Spirits for you. [_Exit, pushing him before her._ _Re-enter ~Esop~._ _Esop. solus._] Monks, Attorneys, Scriveners, and Excisemen! _Enter ~Oronces~._ _Oron._ O here he is. Sir, I have been searching for you, to say two Words to you. _Esop._ And now you have found me, Sir, what are they? _Oron._ They are, Sir----that my Name's Oronces: You comprehend me. _Esop._ I comprehend your Name. _Oron._ And not my Business? _Esop._ Not I, by my Troth. _Oron._ Then I shall endeavour to teach it you, Monsieur _Esop_. _Esop._ And I to learn it, Monsieur _Oronces_. _Oron._ Know, Sir----that I admire _Euphronia_. _Esop._ Know, Sir----that you are in the right on't. _Oron._ But I pretend, Sir, that Nobody else shall admire her. _Esop._ Then I pretend, Sir, she won't admire you. _Oron._ Why so, Sir? _Esop._ Because, Sir---- _Oron._ What, Sir? _Esop._ She's a Woman, Sir. _Oron._ What then, Sir? _Esop._ Why, then, Sir, she desires to be admir'd by every Man she meets. _Oron._ Sir, you are too familiar. _Esop._ Sir, you are too haughty; I must soften that harsh Tone of yours: It don't become you, Sir; it makes a Gentleman appear a Porter, Sir: And that you may know the Use of good Language, I'll tell you what once happen'd. _Once an a Time_---- _Oron._ I'll have none of your old Wives Fables, Sir, I have no Time to lose; therefore, in a Word---- _Esop._ In a Word, be mild: For nothing else will do you Service. Good Manners and soft Words have brought many a difficult Thing to pass. Therefore hear me patiently.