_Phil._ Oh, Tom, you grow wanton, and sensual, as my lady calls it; I must not endure it. Oh! foh! you are a man--an odious, filthy, male creature--you should behave, if you had a right sense or were a man of sense, like Mr. Cimberton, with distance and indifference; or, let me see, some other becoming hard word, with seeming in-in-inadvertency, and not rush on one as if you were seizing a prey.--But hush! the ladies are coming.--Good Tom, don't kiss me above once, and be gone. Lard, we have been fooling and toying, and not considered the main business of our masters and mistresses. _Tom._ Why, their business is to be fooling and toying as soon as the parchments are ready. _Phil._ Well remembered, parchments; my lady, to my knowledge, is preparing writings between her coxcomb cousin, Cimberton, and my mistress, though my master has an eye to the parchments already prepared between your master, Mr. Bevil, and my mistress; and, I believe, my mistress herself has signed and sealed, in her heart, to Mr. Myrtle.--Did I not bid you kiss me but once, and be gone? But I know you won't be satisfied. _Tom._ No, you smooth creature, how should I? [_Kissing her hand._ _Phil._ Well, since you are so humble, or so cool, as to ravish my hand only, I'll take my leave of you like a great lady, and you a man of quality. [_They salute formally._ _Tom._ Pox of all this state. [_Offers to kiss her more closely._ _Phil._ No, prithee, Tom, mind your business. We must follow that interest which will take, but endeavour at that which will be most for us, and we like most. Oh, here is my young mistress! [TOM _taps her neck behind, and kisses his fingers._] Go, ye liquorish fool. [_Exit_ TOM. _Enter_ LUCINDA. _Luc._ Who was that you were hurrying away? _Phil._ One that I had no mind to part with. _Luc._ Why did you turn him away then? _Phil._ For your ladyship's service--to carry your ladyship's letter to his master. I could hardly get the rogue away. _Luc._ Why, has he so little love for his master? _Phil._ No; but he hath so much love for his mistress. _Luc._ But I thought I heard him kiss you. Why did you suffer that? _Phil._ Why, madam, we vulgar take it to be a sign of love--We servants, we poor people, that have nothing but our persons to bestow or treat for, are forced to deal and bargain by way of sample, and therefore as we have no parchments or wax necessary in our agreements, we squeeze with our hands and seal with our lips, to ratify vows and promises. _Luc._ But can't you trust one another without such earnest down? _Phil._ We don't think it safe, any more than you gentry, to come together without deeds executed. _Luc._ Thou art a pert merry hussy. _Phil._ I wish, madam, your lover and you were as happy as Tom and your servant are. _Luc._ You grow impertinent.