Will. Enough—I must have my Share of this Jest, and for divers and sundry Reasons thereunto belonging, must be this very Mountebank expected. Shift. Faith, Sir, and that were no hard matter, for a day or two the Town will believe it, the same they look for: and the Bank, Operators and Musick are all ready. Will. Well enough, add but a _Harlequin_ and _Scaramouch_, and I shall mount in querpo. Shift. Take no care for that, Sir, your Man, and Ensign _Hunt_, are excellent at those two; I saw ’em act ’em the other day to a Wonder, they’ll be glad of the Employment, my self will be an Operator. Will. No more, get ’em ready, and give it out, the Man of Art’s arriv’d: Be diligent and secret, for these two politick Asses must be cozen’d. Shift. I will about the Business instantly. [Ex. _Shift_. Beau. This Fellow will do Feats if he keeps his Word. Will. I’ll give you mine he shall—But, dear _Beaumond_, where shall we meet anon? Beau. I thank ye for that—’Gad, ye shall dine with me. Feth. A good Motion— Will. I beg your Pardon now, dear _Beaumond_—I having lately nothing else to do, took a Command of Horse from the General at the last Siege, from which I am just arriv’d, and my Baggage is behind, which I must take order for. Feth. Pox on’t now there’s a Dinner lost,’twas ever an unlucky Rascal. Beau. To tempt thee more, thou shalt see my Wife that is to be. Will. Pox on’t, I am the leudest Company in Christendom with your honest Women—but—What, art thou to be noos’d then? Beau. ’Tis so design’d by my Uncle, if an old Grandee 127 my Rival prevent it not; the Wench is very pretty, young, and rich, and lives in the same House with me, for ’tis my Aunt’s Daughter. Will. Much good may it d’ye, _Harry_, I pity you, but ’tis the common Grievance of you happy Men of Fortune. [Goes towards the House-door with _Beau._ Enter _La Nuche_, _Aurelia_, _Petronella_, _Sancho_, Women veil’d a little. Aur. Heavens, Madam, is not that the _English_ Captain? [Looking on _Will._ La Nu. ’Tis, and with him Don _Henrick_ the Ambassador’s Nephew—how my Heart pants and heaves at sight of him! some Fire of the old Flames remaining, which I must strive to extinguish. For I’ll not bate a Ducat of this Price I’ve set upon my self, for all the Pleasures Youth or Love can bring me—for see _Aurelia_—the sad Memento of a decay’d poor old forsaken Whore in _Petronella_; consider her, and then commend my Prudence. Will. Hah, Women!— Feth. Egad, and fine ones too, I’ll tell you that. Will. No matter, Kindness is better Sauce to Woman than Beauty! By this Hand she looks at me—Why dost hold me? [_Feth._ holds him. Feth. Why, what a Devil, art mad? Will. Raging, as vigorous Youth kept long from Beauty; wild for the charming Sex, eager for Woman, I long to give a Loose to Love and Pleasure. Blunt. These are not Women, Sir, for you to ruffle—