_Hip._ Here, master, pray play for my sake. [_Gives_ GERRARD _the violin._ _Ger._ What would you have me do with it?--I cannot play a stroke. [_Apart to_ HIPPOLITA. _Hip._ No! stay--then seem to tune it, and break the strings. [_Apart to_ GERRARD. _Ger._ Come then.--[_Aside._] Next to the devil's, the invention of women! They'll no more want an excuse to cheat a father with, than an opportunity to abuse a husband.--[_Aloud._] But what do you give me such a damned fiddle with rotten strings, for? [_Winds up the strings till they break, and throws the violin on the ground._ _Don._ Hey-day! the dancing-master is frantic. _Mons._ Ha! ha! ha! That people should be made such fools of! [_Aside._ _Mrs. Caut._ He broke the strings on purpose, because he could not play.--You are blind, brother. _Don._ What! will you see further than I, look you? _Hip._ But pray, master, why in such haste? [GERRARD _offers to go._ _Ger._ Because you have done with me. _Don._ But don't you intend to come to-morrow, again? _Ger._ Your daughter does not desire it. _Don._ No matter; I do; I must be your paymaster, I'm sure. I would have you come betimes too; not only to make her perfect, but since you have so good a hand upon the violin, to play your part with half-a-dozen of musicians more, whom I would have you bring with you: for we will have a very merry wedding, though a very private one.--You'll be sure to come? _Ger._ Your daughter does not desire it. _Don._ Come, come, baggage, you shall desire it of him; he is your master. _Hip._ My father will have me desire it of you, it seems. _Ger._ But you'll make a fool of me again if I should come; would you not? _Hip._ If I should tell you so, you'd be sure not to come. _Don._ Come, come, she shall not make a fool of you, upon my word. I'll secure you, she shall do what you will have her. _Mons._ Ha! ha! ha! So, so, silly Don. [_Aside._ _Ger._ But, madam, will you have me come? _Hip._ I'd have you to know, for my part, I care not whether you come or no:--there are other dancing-masters to be had:--it is my father's request to you. All that I have to say to you is a little good advice, which, because I will not shame you, I'll give you in private. [_Whispers_ GERRARD. _Mrs. Caut._ What! will you let her whisper with him too? _Don._ Nay, if you find fault with it, they shall whisper, though I did not like it before:--I'll ha' nobody wiser than myself. But do you think, if 'twere any hurt, she would whisper it to him before us? _Mrs. Caut._ If it be no hurt, why does she not speak aloud? _Don._ Because she says she will not put the man out of countenance. _Mrs. Caut._ Hey-day! put a dancing-master out of countenance! _Don._ You say he is no dancing-master. _Mrs. Caut._ Yes, for his impudence he may be a dancing-master.