Feth. Hu, how scornful she is, I’ll warrant you—why I must confess, your Person is something heroical and masculine, but I protest to your Highness, I love and honour ye. Dwarf. Prithee, Sister, be not so coy, I like my Lover well enough; and if Seignior Mountebank keep his Word in making us of reasonable Proportions, I think the Gentlemen may serve for Husbands. Shift. Dissemble, or you betray your Love for us. [Aside to the Giant. Giant. And if he do keep his Word, I should make a better Choice, not that I would change this noble Frame of mine, cou’d I but meet my Match, and keep up the first Race of Man intire: But since this scanty World affords none such, I to be happy, must be new created, and then shall expect a wiser Lover. 157 Feth. Why, what a peevish Titt’s this; nay, look ye, Madam, as for that matter, your Extraordinariness may do what you please—but ’tis not done like a Monster of Honour, when a Man has set his Heart upon you, to cast him off—Therefore I hope you’ll pity a despairing Lover, and cast down an Eye of Consolation upon me; for I vow, most Amazonian Princess, I love ye as if Heaven and Earth wou’d come together. Dwarf. My Sister will do much, I’m sure, to save the Man that loves her so passionately—she has a Heart. Feth. And a swinger ’tis—’Sbud—she moves like the Royal Sovereign, and is as long a tacking about. [Aside. Giant. Then your Religion, Sir. Feth. Nay, as for that, Madam, we are _English_, a Nation I thank God, that stand as little upon Religion as any Nation under the Sun, unless it be in Contradiction; and at this time have so many amongst us, a Man knows not which to turn his Hand to—neither will I stand with your Hugeness for a small matter of Faith or so—Religion shall shall break no squares. Dwarf. I hope, Sir, you are of your Friend’s Opinion. Blunt. My little Spark of a Diamond, I am, I was born a _Jew_, with an Aversion to Swines Flesh. Dwarf. Well, Sir, I shall hasten Seignior Doctor to compleat my Beauty, by some small Addition, to appear the more grateful to you. Blunt. Lady, do not trouble your self with transitory Parts, ’Dshartlikins thou’rt as handsom as needs be for a Wife. Dwarf. A little taller, Seignior, wou’d not do amiss, my younger Sister has got so much the Start of me. Blunt. In troth she has, and now I think on’t, a little taller wou’d do well for Propagation; I should be both the Posterity of the antient Family of the _Blunts_ of _Essex_ should dwindle into Pigmies or Fairies. Giant. Well, Seigniors, since you come with our Uncle’s liking, we give ye leave to hope, hope—and be happy— [They go out with _Harlequin_. 158 Feth. Egad, and that’s great and gracious— Enter _Willmore_ and an Operator. Will. Well, Gentlemen, and how like you the Ladies? Blunt. Faith, well enough for the first Course, Sir.