_Pala._ [_to_ DORALICE.] This Rhodophil's the unluckiest fellow to me! this is now the second time he has barred the dice when we were just ready to have nicked him; but if ever I get the box again-- _Dor._ Do you think he will not know me? Am I like myself? _Pala._ No more than a picture in the hangings. _Dor._ Nay, then he can never discover me, now the wrong side of the arras is turned towards him. _Pala._ At least, it will be some pleasure to me, to enjoy what freedom I can while he looks on; I will storm the out-works of matrimony even before his face. _Rho._ What wine have you there, Palamede? _Pala._ Old Chios, or the rogue's damn'd that drew it. _Rho._ Come,--to the most constant of mistresses! that, I believe, is yours, Palamede. _Dor._ Pray spare your seconds; for my part I am but a weak brother. _Pala._ Now,--to the truest of turtles! that is your wife, Rhodophil, that lies sick at home, in the bed of honour. _Rho._ Now let us have one common health, and so have done. _Dor._ Then, for once, I'll begin it. Here's to him that has the fairest lady of Sicily in masquerade to night. _Pala._ This is such an obliging health, I'll kiss thee, dear rogue, for thy invention. [_Kisses her._ _Rho._ He, who has this lady, is a happy man, without dispute,--I'm most concerned in this, I am sure. [_Aside._ _Pala._ Was it not well found out, Rhodophil? _Mel._ Ay, this was _bien trouvee_ indeed. _Dor._ [_to_ MELANTHA.] I suppose I shall do you a kindness, to enquire if you have not been in France, sir? _Mel._ To do you service, sir. _Dor._ O, monsieur, _votre valet bien humble_. [_Saluting her._ _Mel._ _Votre esclave, monsieur, de tout mon coeur._ [_Returning the salute._ _Dor._ I suppose, sweet sir, you are the hope and joy of some thriving citizen, who has pinched him self at home, to breed you abroad, where you have learned your exercises, as it appears, most awkwardly, and are returned, with the addition of a new-laced bosom and a clap, to your good old father, who looks at you with his mouth, while you spout French with your man monsieur. _Pala._ Let me kiss thee again for that, dear rogue. _Mel._ And you, I imagine, are my young master, whom your mother durst not trust upon salt-water, but left you to be your own tutor at fourteen, to be very brisk and _entreprenant_, to endeavour to be debauched ere you have learned the knack of it, to value yourself upon a clap before you can get it, and to make it the height of your ambition to get a player for your mistress. _Rho._ [_embracing_ MELANTHA.] O dear young bully thou hast tickled him with a _repartee_, i'faith. _Mel._ You are one of those that applaud our country plays, where drums, and trumpets, and blood, and wounds, are wit. _Rho._ Again, my boy? Let me kiss thee most abundantly.