_Cor_. Quite distracted! in pity take him hence, and lead him into Darkness, ‘twill suit his Madness best. _Tick_. How, distracted! take him hence. _Pet_. This was lucky--I knew she wou’d come again--Take him hence--yes, into her Bed-chamber--pretty device to get you to her self, Signior. _Tick_. Why, but is it?--Nay then I will facilitate my departure-- therefore I say, Oh most beautiful and tempting Woman-- [_Beginning to preach again_. _Cor_. Away with him, give him clean straw and darkness, And chain him fast, for fear of further mischief. _Pet_. She means for fear of losing ye. _Tick_. Ah, Baggage! as fast as she will in those pretty Arms. [_Going to lead him off_. Sir _Sig_. Hold, hold, man; mad, said ye!--ha, ha, ha--mad! why we have a thousand of these in _England_ that go loose about the streets, and pass with us for as sober discreet religious persons, as a man shall wish to talk nonsense withal. _Pet_. You are mistaken, Signior, I say he is mad, stark mad. Sir _Sig_. Prithee, _Barberacho_, what dost thou mean? _Pet_. To rid him hence, that she may be alone with you--’slife, Sir, you’re madder than he--don’t you conceive?-- Sir _Sig_. Ay, ay; nay, I confess, Illustrissima Signiora, my Governour has a Fit that takes him now and then, a kind of frensy,--a figary--a whimsy--a maggot, that bites always at naming of Popery: [_Exit_. Pet. _with_ Tick.]--so--he’s gone.--Bellissima Signiora,--you have most artificially remov’d him--and this extraordinary proof of your affection is a sign of some small kindness towards me; and though I was something coy and reserv’d before my Governour, Excellentissima Signiora, let me tell you, your Love is not cast away. _Cor_. Oh, Sir, you bless too fast; but will you ever love me? Sir _Sig_. Love thee! ay and lie with thee too, most magnanimous Signiora, and beget a whole Race of Roman _Julius Caesars_ upon thee; nay, now we’re alone, turn me loose to Impudence, i’faith. [_Ruffles her; Enter_ Philippa _in haste, shutting the door after her_. _Phil_. Oh, Madam, here’s the young mad _English_ Cavalier got into the House, and will not be deny’d seeing you. _Cor_. This was lucky. Sir _Sig_. How, the mad _English_ Cavalier! if this shou’d be our young Count _Galliard_ now--I were in a sweet taking--Oh, I know by my fears ’.is he;--Oh, prithee what kind of a manner of Man is he? _Phil_. A handsom--resolute--brave--bold-- Sir _Sig_. Oh, enough, enough--Madam, I’ll take my leave--I see you are something busy at present,--an I’ll-- _Cor_. Not for the World:--_Philippa_, bring in the Cavalier--that you may see there’s none here fears him, Signior.