_Y. Mir._ Yes, sir; I have a confident address, no disagreeable person, and five hundred Lewis d'ors in my pocket. _Dur._ Five hundred Lewis d'ors! you an't mad! _Y. Mir._ I tell you, she's worth five thousand; one of her black, brilliant eyes, is worth a diamond as big as her head. _Dur._ But you have owned to me, that, abating Oriana's pretensions to marriage, you loved her passionately; then how can you wander at this rate? _Y. Mir._ I longed for a partridge t'other day, off the king's plate, but d'ye think, because I could not have it, I must eat nothing? _Enter_ ORIANA, _in Boy's Clothes, with a Letter_. _Oriana._ Is your name Mirabel, sir? _Y. Mir._ Yes, sir. _Oriana._ A letter from your uncle, in Picardy. [_Gives the Letter._ _Y. Mir._ [_Reads._] _The bearer is the son of a protestant gentleman, who, flying for his religion, left me the charge of this youth._--A pretty Boy!--_He's fond of some handsome service, that may afford him opportunity of improvement: your care of him will oblige, Yours._ Hast a mind to travel, child? _Oriana._ 'Tis my desire, sir; I should be pleased to serve a traveller in any capacity. _Y. Mir._ A hopeful inclination; you shall along with me into Italy, as my page. _Dur._ [_Noise without._] Too handsome--The play's done, and some of the ladies come this way. [LAMORCE _without, with her Train borne up by a_ PAGE. _Y. Mir._ Duretete, the very dear, identical she! _Dur._ And what then? _Y. Mir._ Why, 'tis she! _Dur._ And what then, sir? _Y. Mir._ Then!--Why, lookye, sirrah, the first piece of service I put upon you, is to follow that lady's coach, and bring me word where she lives. [_To_ ORIANA. _Oriana._ I don't know the town, sir, and am afraid of losing myself. _Y. Mir._ Pshaw! _Enter_ LAMORCE _and_ PAGE. _Lam._ Page, what's become of all my people? _Page._ I can't tell, madam; I can see no sign of your ladyship's coach. _Lam._ That fellow has got into his old pranks, and fallen drunk somewhere;--none of the footmen there? _Page._ Not one, madam. _Lam._ These servants are the plague of our lives--what shall I do? _Y. Mir._ By all my hopes, Fortune pimps for me! now, Duretete, for a piece of gallantry! _Dur._ Why, you won't, sure? _Y. Mir._ Won't, brute!--Let not your servants' neglect, madam, put your ladyship to any inconvenience; for you can't be disappointed of an equipage, whilst mine waits below: and, would you honour the master so far, he would be proud to pay his attendance. _Dur._ Ay, to be sure! [_Aside._ _Lam._ Sir, I won't presume to be troublesome, for my habitation is a great way off. _Dur._ Very true, madam, and he's a little engaged; besides, madam--a hackney coach will do as well, madam.