Lov. So, this blows the flame—His Life will be no hindrance to you in this Affair, if you design to love on. Alon. Do’st know him? Lov. Yes, he is a pleasant Original for you to be copy’d by: It is the same Fop, I told you was to marry my Sister, and who came along with me to _Madrid_. Alon. How! _Euphemia_ thy Sister? Lov. Yes, indeed is she, and whom my Father designs to cast away upon this half Man, half Fool; but I find she has Wit to make a better Choice: she yet knows nothing of my Arrival, and till you resolve what to do, shall not; and my _Dutchman_ does nothing without me. Alon. If thou hast the management of him, he’s likely to thrive. Lov. But not in his Amour, if you please: In short, Sir, if you do really love my Sister, I am content to be so ungracious a Child to contribute to the cheating my Father of this same hopeful Son he expects, and put you upon him; but what you do, must be speedily then. Alon. I am oblig’d to thee for this frank Offer, and will be instructed by thee. Lov. If you’re resolv’d, I’ll warrant you Success. Alon. I think I am resolv’d in spite of all my Inclinations to Libertinism. Lov. Well, Sir, I’ll get you such a Suit then, as that our Hero makes his first approach in, as ridiculously gay as his Humour, which you must assume too. Alon. Content. Lov. To night I must pay my Duty to my Father, and will prepare your way, and acquaint my Sister with it; ’tis but a Frolick if we succeed not. Alon. God-a-mercy, Lad, let’s about it then e’er we sleep, lest I change my Resolution before Morning. [Exeunt. 263 ACT III. Scene I. House of _Carlo_. Enter _Alonzo_ drest ridiculously, meeting _Lovis_, they laugh at each other. Lov. Very _Haunce_ all over, the Taylor has play’d his part, play but yours as well, and I’ll warrant you the Wench. Alon. But prithee, why need I act the Fool thus, since _Haunce_ was never seen here? Lov. To make good the Character I always gave of him to my Father; but here he comes, pray be very rude, and very impertinent. Alon. Lord, Lord, how shall I look thus damnably set out, and thus in love! Enter Don _Carlo_. Lov. This, Sir, is Monsieur _Haunce_, your Son that must be. Alon. _Beso los manos, signor_: Is your Name Don _Carlo?_ and are you the Gravity of this House? and the Father of Donna _Euphemia?_ and are you— Car. Sir, I guess by all these your Demands at once, your Name to be _Myn heer Haunce van Ezel_. Alon. Your Judgment’s good; but to my Questions. Car. In truth I have forgot them, there were so many. Alon. Are you he who is to be my Father? Car. ’Tis so negotiated—and if all Circumstances concur—For, Sir, you must conceive, the Consequence of so grand a Conjunction— Alon. Less of your Compliments, Sir, and more of your Daughter, I beseech you. ’Sheart, what a formal Coxcomb ’tis. [Aside. Lov. Prithee give him way. [Aside.