_Old Mir._ What have you to do with my words? I have swallowed my words already; I have eaten them up.--I say, that Bob's an honest fellow, and who dares deny it? _Enter_ BISARRE. _Bis._ That dare I, sir:--I say, that your son is a wild, foppish, whimsical, impertinent coxcomb; and, were I abused, as this gentleman's sister is, I would make it an Italian quarrel, and poison the whole family. _Dug._ Come, sir, 'tis no time for trifling: my sister is abused; you are made sensible of the affront, and your honour is concerned to see her redressed. _Old Mir._ Lookye, Mr. Dugard, good words go farthest. I will do your sister justice, but it must be after my own rate; nobody must abuse my son but myself; for, although Robin be a sad dog, yet he's nobody's puppy but my own. _Bis._ Ay, that's my sweet-natured, kind, old gentleman--[_Wheedling him._] We will be good, then, if you'll join with us in the plot. _Old Mir._ Ah, you coaxing young baggage! what plot can you have to wheedle a fellow of sixty-three? _Bis._ A plot that sixty-three is only good for; to bring other people together, sir. You must act the Spaniard, because your son will least suspect you; and, if he should, your authority protects you from a quarrel, to which Oriana is unwilling to expose her brother. _Old Mir._ And what part will you act in the business, madam? _Bis._ Myself, sir; my friend is grown a perfect changeling: these foolish hearts of ours spoil our heads presently; the fellows no sooner turn knaves, but we turn fools: but I am still myself, and he may expect the most severe usage from me, because I neither love him, nor hate him. [_Exit._ _Old Mir._ Well said, Mrs. Paradox! but, sir, who must open the matter to him? _Dug._ Petit, sir; who is our engineer general; and here he comes. _Enter_ PETIT. _Petit._ O, sir, more discoveries! are all friends about us? _Dug._ Ay, ay, speak freely. _Petit._ You must know, sir,----od's my life, I'm out of breath! you must know, sir,--you must know-- _Old Mir._ What the devil must we know, sir? _Petit._ That I have [_Pants and blows._] bribed, sir, bribed--your son's secretary of state. _Old Mir._ Secretary of state!--who's that, for Heaven's sake? _Petit._ His valet de chambre, sir? You must know, sir, that the intrigue lay folded up in his master's clothes; and, when he went to dust the embroidered suit, the secret flew out of the right pocket of his coat, in a whole swarm of your crambo songs, short-footed odes, and long-legged pindarics. _Old Mir._ Impossible! _Petit._ Ah, sir, he has loved her all along; there was Oriana in every line, but he hates marriage. Now, sir, this plot will stir up his jealousy, and we shall know, by the strength of that, how to proceed farther.