_Bell_. Fatigu’d with the most disagreeable Affair, for a Person of my Humour, in the World. Oh, how I hate Business, which I do no more mind, than a Spark does the Sermon, who is ogling his Mistress at Church all the while: I have been ruffling over twenty Reams of Paper for my Uncle’s Writings. _Enter_ Scaramouch. _Scar_. So, so, the old Gentleman is departed this wicked World, and the House is our own for this Night.--Where are the Sparks? where are the Sparks? _Ela_. Nay, Heaven knows. _Bell_. How! I hope not so; I left _Charmante_ confin’d to my Closet, when my Uncle had like to have surpriz’d us together: Is he not here? _Ela_. No, he’s escap’d, but he has made sweet doings. _Bell_. Heavens, Cousin! What? _Ela_. My Father was coming into the Chamber, and had like to have taken _Cinthio_ with me, when, to conceal him, I put him into your Closet, not knowing of _Charmante’s_ being there, and which, in the dark, he took for a Gallant of mine; had not my Father’s Presence hinder’d, I believe there had been Murder committed; however they both escap’d unknown. _Scar_. Pshaw, is that all? Lovers Quarrels are soon Adjusted; I’ll to ’.m, unfold the Riddle, and bring ‘em back--take no care, but go in and dress you for the Ball; _Mopsophil_ has Habits which your Lovers sent to put on: the Fiddles, Treat, and all are prepar’d. [_Exit_. _Enter_ Mopsophil. _Mop_. Madam, your Cousin _Florinda_, with a Lady, are come to visit you. _Bell_. I’m glad on’t, ‘tis a good Wench, and we’ll trust her with our Mirth and Secret. [_They go out_. SCENE II. _Changes to the Street_. _Enter Page with a Flambeaux, followed by_ Cinthio; _passes over the Stage_. Scaramouch _follows_ Cinthio _in a Campaign Coat_. _Scar_. ‘Tis _Cinthio_--Don _Cinthio_. [_Calls, he turns_. Well, what’s the Quarrel?--How fell ye out? _Cin_. You may inform your self I believe, for these close Intrigues cannot be carried on without your Knowledge. _Scar_. What Intrigues, Sir? be quick, for I’m in haste. _Cin_. Who was the Lover I surpriz’d i’th’ Closet? _Scar. Deceptio visus_, Sir; the Error of the Eyes. _Cin_. Thou Dog, I felt him too; but since the Rascal ‘scaped me, I’ll be reveng’d on thee. [_Goes to beat him; he running away, runs against_ Harlequin, _who is entering with_ Charmante, _and like to have thrown ‘em both down_. _Char_. Ha,--What’s the matter here? _Scar_. Seignior Don _Charmante_. [_Then he struts courageously in with ‘em_. _Char_. What, _Cinthio_ in a Rage! Who’s the unlucky Object? _Cin_. All Man and Woman Kind: _Elaria’s_ false.