_Mons. Non, non, de grace; non:_ Nokes de comedian is a pretty man, a pretty man for a comedian, da-- _Hip._ You are modest, cousin.--But lest my father should come in presently, which he will do as soon as he knows you are here, I must give you a caution, which 'tis fit you should have before you see him. _Mons._ Vell, vell, cousin, vat is dat? _Hip._ You must know, then (as commonly the conclusion of all mirth is sad), after I had a good while pleased myself in jesting, and leading the poor gentleman you sent into a fool's paradise, and almost made him believe I would go away with him, my father, coming home this morning, came in upon us, and caught him with me. _Mons. Malepeste!_ _Hip._ And drew his sword upon him, and would have killed him; for you know my father's Spanish fierceness and jealousy. _Mons._ But how did he come off then, _tête non?_ _Hip._ In short, I was fain to bring him off by saying he was my dancing-master. _Mons._ Ha! ha! ha! ver good jeste. _Hip._ I was unwilling to have the poor man killed, you know, for our foolish frolic with him: but then, upon my aunt's and father's inquiry, how he came in, and who sent him, I was forced to say you did, desiring I should be able to dance a corant before our wedding. _Mons._ A ver good jest--da--still better as better. _Hip._ Now, all that I am to desire of you is, to own you sent him, that I may not be caught in a lie. _Mons_ Yes, yes, a ver good jest: Gerrard a _maître de danse!_ ha! ha! ha! _Hip._ Nay, the jest is like to be better yet; for my father himself has obliged him now to come and teach me: so that now he must take the dancing-master upon him, and come three or four times to me before our wedding, lest my father, if he should come no more, should be suspicious I had told him a lie. And, for aught I know, if he should know, or but guess he were not a dancing-master, in his Spanish strictness and punctilios of honour, he might kill me as the shame and stain of his honour and family, which he talks of so much. Now, you know the jealous cruel fathers in Spain serve their poor innocent daughters often so; and he is more than a Spaniard. _Mons. Non, non,_ fear noting; I warrant you, he shall come as often as you will to de house; and your father shall never know who he is till we are married. But then I'll tell him all for the jest's sake. _Hip._ But will you keep my counsel, dear cousin, till we are married? _Mons._ Poor dear fool! I warrant thee, _ma foi!_ _Hip._ Nay, what a fool am I indeed! for you would not have me killed. You love me too well, sure, to be an instrument of my death. _Enter_ Don DIEGO, _walking gravely, a_ Black boy _behind him; and_ Mrs. CAUTION. But here comes my father, remember.