_1 Bra._ Here, child, take a glass of wine--Your master and I have changed hats, honey, in a frolic.--Where had you this pretty boy, honest Mustapha? _Oriana._ Mustapha! _Y. Mir._ Out of Picardy--this is the first errand he has made for me, and if he does it right, I will encourage him. _Oriana._ The red burgundy, sir? _Y. Mir._ The red, marked a thousand, and be sure you make haste. _Oriana._ I shall, sir. [_Exit._ _1 Bra._ Sir, you were pleased to like my hat, have you any fancy for my coat?--Lookye, sir, it has served a great many honest gentlemen, very faithfully. _Y. Mir._ The insolence of these dogs is beyond their cruelty! [_Aside._ _Lam._ You're melancholy, sir. _Y. Mir._ Only concerned, madam, that I should have no servant here but this little boy--he'll make some confounded blunder, I'll lay my life on't; I would not be disappointed of my wine, for the universe. _Lam._ He'll do well enough, sir; but supper's ready; will you please to eat a bit, sir? _Y. Mir._ O, madam, I never had a better stomach in my life. _Lam._ Come, then, we have nothing but a plate of soup. _Y. Mir._ Ah! the marriage soup I could dispense with now. [_Aside.--Exit, handing the Lady._ _2 Bra._ Shall we dispatch him? _3 Bra._ To be sure; I think he knows me. _1 Bra._ Ay, ay, dead men tell no tales; I han't the confidence to look a man in the face, after I have done him an injury, therefore we'll murder him. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. OLD MIRABEL'S _House_. _Enter_ DURETETE. _Dur._ My friend has forsaken me, I have abandoned my mistress, my time lies heavy upon my hands, and my money burns in my pocket--But now I think on't, my myrmidons are upon duty to-night; I'll fairly stroll down to the guard, and nod away the night with my honest lieutenant, over a flask of wine, a story, and a pipe of tobacco. [_Going off_, BISARRE _meets him_. _Bis._ Who comes there? stand! _Dur._ Heyday, now she's turned dragoon! _Bis._ Lookye, sir, I'm told you intend to travel again.--I design to wait on you as far as Italy. _Dur._ Then I'll travel into Wales. _Bis._ Wales! What country's that? _Dur._ The land of mountains, child; where you're never out of the way, 'cause there's no such thing as a highroad. _Bis._ Rather, always in a high road, because you travel all upon hills; but be't as it will, I'll jog along with you. _Dur._ But we intend to sail to the East Indies. _Bis._ East, or West, 'tis all one to me; I'm tight and light, and the fitter for sailing. _Dur._ But suppose we take through Germany, and drink hard? [Illustration: INCONSTANT ORIANA--I CANNOT; FOR I MUST BE UP AND GO TO CHURCH ACT IV. SCENE III] _Bis._ Suppose I take through Germany and drink harder than you? _Dur._ Suppose I go to a bawdy house?