_Alcan_. She has undone my Prince, And he has most unluckily disarm’d himself, And put the Sword into his Rival’s hand, Who will return it to his grateful Bosom. _Phi_. Why, you believe _Alcippus_ honest-- _Alcan_. Yes, in your sense, _Pisaro_, But do not like the last demand he made; ’.was but an ill return upon his Prince, To beg his Mistress, rather challeng’d her. _Pis_. His ignorance that she was so, may excuse him. _Alcan_. The Devil ‘twill, dost think he knew it not? _Pis. Orgulius_ still design’d him for _Erminia_; And if the Prince be disoblig’d from this, He only ought to take it ill from him. _Alcan_. Too much, _Pisaro_, you excuse his Pride, But ‘tis the Office of a Friend to do so. _Pis_. ‘Tis true, I am not ignorant of this, That he despises other Recompence For all his Services, but fair _Erminia_, I know ‘tis long since he resign’d his Heart, Without so much as telling her she conquer’d; And yet she knew he lov’d; whilst she, ingrate, Repay’d his Passion only with her Scorn. _Alcan_. In loving him, she’d more ingrateful prove To her first Vows, to Reason, and to Love. _Pis_. For that, _Alcander_, you know more than I. _Fal_. Why sure _Aminta_ will instruct her better, She’s as inconstant as the Seas and Winds, Which ne’er are calm but to betray Adventurers. _Alcan_. How came you by that knowledg, Sir? _Fal_. What a Pox makes him ask me that question now? [_Aside_. _Pis_. Prithee, _Alcander_, now we talk of her, How go the Amours ‘twixt you and my wild Sister? Can you speak yet, or do you tell your tale With Eyes and Sighs, as you were wont to do? _Alcan_. Faith, much at that old rate, _Pisaro_, I yet have no incouragement from her To make my Court in any other language. _Pis_. You’ll bring her to’t, she must be overcome, And you’re the fittest for her fickle Humour. _Alcan_. Pox on’t, this Change will spoil our making Love, We must be sad, and follow the Court-Mode: My life on’t, you’ll see desperate doings here; The Eagle will not part so with his Prey; _Erminia_ was not gain’d so easily, To be resign’d so tamely.--But come, my Lord, This will not satisfy our appetites, Let’s in to Dinner, and when warm with Wine, We shall be fitter for a new Design. [_They go out_. Fal. _stays_. _Fal_. Now am I in a very fine condition, A comfortable one, as I take it: I have ventur’d my Life to some purpose now; What confounded luck was this, that he of all men Living, should happen to be my Rival? Well, I’ll go visit _Aminta_, and see how She receives me.-- Why, where a duce hast thou dispos’d of _Enter_ Labree. Thy self all this day? I will be bound to be Hang’d if thou hast not a hankering after Some young Wench; thou couldst never loiter Thus else; but I’ll forgive thee now, and prithee go to My Lady _Aminta’s_ Lodgings; kiss her hand From me; and tell her, I am just returned from The Campain: mark that word, Sirrah. _Lab_. I shall, Sir, ‘tis truth.