_Lop._ If I mistake not, there are a Brace of Lovers intend to take some Pains about Madam, in her Husband's Absence. Poor Don _Pedro_! Well; methinks a Man's in a very merry Mood, that marries a handsome Wife: When I dispose of my Person, it shall be to an ugly one. They take it so kindly, and are so full of Acknowledgment; watch you, wait upon you, nurse you, humour you, are so fond, and so chaste. Or, if the Hussy has Presumption enough to think of being otherwise, away with her into the Mountains, fifty Leagues off; no Body opposes. If she's mutinous, give her Discipline; every Body approves on't. Hang her, says one, he's kinder than she deserves: Damn her, says another, why does not he starve her? But, if she's handsome, Ah, the Brute, cries one: Ah the _Turk_, cries t'other: Why don't she cuckold him, says this Fellow? Why does not she poison him, says that? and away comes a Pacquet of Epistles, to advise her to't. Ah poor Don _Pedro_! But enough: 'Tis now Night, all's hush and still: every Body's a-bed, and what am I to do? Why, as other trusty Domesticks, sit up to let the Thief in. But I suppose he won't be here yet; with the help of a small Nap beforehand, I shall be in a better Condition to perform the Duty of a Centinel, when I go to my Post. This Corner will just fit me: Come, _Lopez_, lie thee down, short Prayers, and to sleep. [_He lies down._ _Enter ~Jacinta~ with a Candle in her Hand._ _Jac._ So, I have put my poor Lady to Bed, with nothing but Sobs, Tears, Sighs, Wishes, and a Pillow to mumble, instead of a Bridegroom, poor Heart.----I pity her; but every Body has their Afflictions, and by the Beads of my Grandmother, I have mine. Tell me, kind Gentlemen, if I have not something to excite you? Methinks I have a rogueish Eye, I'm sure I have a melting Heart. I'm soft, and warm, and sound, may it please ye. Whence comes it then, this Rascal _Lopez_, who now has been two Hours in the Family, has not yet thought it worth his while, to make one Motion towards me? Not that the Blockhead's Charms have moved me, but I'm angry mine han't been able to move him. I doubt, I must begin with the Lubber: my Reputation's at stake upon't, and I must rouze the Drone, somehow. _~Lopez~ rubbing his Eyes, and coming on._ _Lop._ What a damn'd Condition is that of a Valet! No sooner do I, in comfortable Slumber, close my Eyes, but methinks my Master's upon me, with fifty Slaps o' th' Back, for making him wait in the Street. I have his Orders to let him in here to-night, and so I had e'en----Who's that?----_Jacinta!_----Yes, a-caterwauling!--like enough. _Jac._ The Fellow's there; I had best not lose the Occasion. _Lop._ The Slut's handsome. I begin to kindle: But if my master shou'd be at the Door----Why there let him be, till the Matter's over. [_Aside._ _Jac._ Shall I advance?