_Clo._ I will wait on you, Sir. [Exeunt all but _Guil._ Enter _Lorenzo_ and his _Page_. Peeps first. _Lor._ What’s the matter here? the Prince is wounded too. Oh, what a Dog was I to know of some such thing, And not secure them all? [_Lor._ stands gazing at _Guil._ _Guil._ stands tabering his Hat, and scruing his Face. --What’s here? Ha, ha, ha, this is the pleasantest Fellow that e’er I saw in my Life. Prithee, Friend, what’s thy Name? _Guil._ My Name, an’t shall like ye. My Name, it is _Guilliam_. _Lor._ From whence comest thou? _Guil._ From a Village a great huge way off. _Lor._ And what’s thy business here, hah? _Guil._ Truly, Sir, not to tell a Lye; I come to get a Service here at Court. _Lor._ A Service at Court! ha, ha, that’s a pleasant Humour, i’faith. Why, Fellow, what canst thou do? _Guil._ Do, Sir! I can do any thing. _Lor._ Why, what canst thou do? canst thou dress well? --Set a Peruke to advantage, tie a Crevat, And Cuffs? put on a Belt with dexterity, hah? These be the Parts that must recommend you. _Guil._ I know not what you mean, But I am sure I can do them all. _Lor._ Thou art confident it seems, and I can tell You, Sirrah, that’s a great step to Preferment; --But well, go on then, canst ride the great Horse? _Guil._ The biggest in all our Town I have rid a thousand times. _Lor._ That’s well; canst fence? _Guil._ Fence, Sir, what’s that? _Lor._ A Term we use for the Art and Skill of handling a Weapon. _Guil._ I can thrash, Sir. _Lor._ What’s that, Man? _Guil._ Why, Sir, it is--it is--thrashing. _Lor._ An Artist, I vow; canst play on any Musick? _Guil._ Oh, most rogically, Sir, I have a Bagpipe that Every Breath sets the whole Village a dancing. _Lor._ Better still; and thou canst dance, I’ll warrant? _Guil._ Dance, he, he, he, I vow you’ve light on My Master-piece, y’fegs. _Lor_. And I’ll try thee: Boy, go fetch some of the [To the _Page_. Musick hither which I keep in pay. [Ex. _Page_. --But hark you, Friend, though I love Dancing very well, And that may recommend thee in a great degree; Yet ‘tis wholly necessary that you should be valiant too: We Great ones ought to be serv’d by Men of Valour, For we are very liable to be affronted by many here To our Faces, which we would gladly have beaten behind Our Backs.--But Pox on’t, thou hast not the Huff And Grimace of a Man of Prowess. _Guil._ As for fighting, though I do not care for it, Yet I can do’t if any body angers me, or so. _Lor._ But I must have you learn to do’t when Any body angers me too. _Guil._ Sir, they told me I should have no need on’t Here; but I shall learn. _Lor._ Why, you Fool, that’s not a thing to be learn’d, --That’s a brave Inclination born with Man, A brave undaunted something, a thing that, That comes from, from, I know not what, For I was born without it.