_Lor._ Nay, do but hear me a little; I vow ‘tis the strangest thing in the World, A Man must part from so much Money as I have done, And be confin’d to Signs and Grimaces only, To declare his Mind in: If a Man has a Tongue, let him exercise it, I say, As long as he pays for speaking. _Isab._ Again with your paying for’t? I see you are not To be reclaim’d; farewel-- _Lor._ Stay, good _Isabella_, stay, And thou shalt hear not one word of that more, Though I am soundly urg’d to’t. _Isab._ Yes, yes, pray count them, do; I know you long to be at it, And I am sure you will find you are in Arrears to us. _Lor._ Say you so, I am not of that opinion: but well, --Let me see--here ‘tis, here ‘tis-- My Bill of Charge for courting _Clarina_. [Draws out his Table Book, and reads. _Isab._ And here’s mine for the returns that have been Made you; begin, begin. [Pulls out her Book. _Lor._ _Item_, two hundred Crowns to _Isabella_ for undertaking. _Isab_. _Item_, I have promis’d _Lorenzo_ to serve him In his Amour with all Fidelity. _Lor._ Well, I own that Debt paid, if you keep Your word--out with it then-- [He crosses that out. _Item_, two thousand Crowns in a Bracelet for _Clarina_; What say you to that now, _Isabella_? _Isab._ _Item_, the day after they were presented, She saluted you with a smile at the Chappel. _Lor._ And dost thou think it was not dearly bought? _Isab._ No Man in _Florence_ should have had it A Souce cheaper. _Lor._ Say you so, _Isabella_? out with it then. [Crosses it out. _Item_, one hundred more to thee for presenting them. _Isab._ Which I did with six lyes in your Commendation, Worth ten Pistoles a piece for the exactness of a Lye; Write there indebted to me-- _Lor._ Nay then thou dost deserve it: Rest due to _Isabella_. [Writes. _Item_, Innumerable Serenades, Night-walks, Affronts And Fears; and lastly, to the Poets for Songs, and the like. _Isab._ All which was recompensed in the excessive Laughing on you that Day you praunc’d under our Window on Horse-back, when you made such a Deal of Capriol and Curvet. _Lor._ Yes, where I ventur’d my Neck to shew my Activity, and therefore may be well accompted Amongst my Losses. _Isab._ Then she receiv’d your Presents, Suffer’d your Serenades, without sending her Foot-men To break your Pate with the Fiddles. _Lor._ Indeed that was one of the best Signs; For I have been a great Sufferer in that kind Upon the like occasions: but dost thou think In Conscience that this should satisfy? _Isab._ Yes, any reasonable Man in the World, for the First Month at least; and yet you are still up With your Expences, as if a Lady of her Quality Were to be gain’d without them. --Let me hear of your Expences more, and I’ll--