_Dap._ He may drink, because he is obliged to the bottle for all the wit and courage he has; 'tis not free and natural like yours. _Ran._ He has more courage than wit, but wants neither. _Dap._ As a pump gone dry, if you pour no water down you will get none out, so-- _Ran._ Nay, I bar similes too, to-night. _Dap._ Why, is not the thought new? don't you apprehend it? _Ran._ Yes, yes, but-- _Dap._ Well, well, will you comply with his sottishness too, and hate brisk things in complaisance to the ignorant dull age? I believe shortly 'twill be as hard to find a patient friend to communicate one's wit to, as a faithful friend to communicate one's secret to. Wit has as few true judges as painting, I see. _Ran._ All people pretend to be judges of both. _Dap._ Ay, they pretend; but set you aside, and one or two more-- _Ran._ But why, has Vincent neither courage nor wit? _Dap._ He has no courage, because he beat his wench for giving me _les doux yeux_ once; and no wit, because he does not comprehend my thoughts; and he is a son of a whore for his ignorance. I take ignorance worse from any man than the lie, because 'tis as much as to say I am no wit. _Re-enter_ VINCENT. You need not take any notice, though, to him what I say. _Vin._ Ranger, there is a woman below in a coach would speak with you. _Ran._ With me? [_Exit_ RANGER. _Dap._ This Ranger, Mr. Vincent, is as false to his friend as his wench. _Vin._ You have no reason to say so, but because he is absent. _Dap._ 'Tis disobliging to tell a man of his faults to his face. If he had but your grave parts and manly wit, I should adore him; but, a pox! he is a mere buffoon, a jack-pudding, let me perish! _Vin._ You are an ungrateful fellow. I have heard him maintain you had wit, which was more than e'er you could do for yourself.--I thought you had owned him your Mæcenas. _Dap._ A pox! he cannot but esteem me, 'tis for his honour; but I cannot but be just for all that--without favour or affection. Yet I confess I love him so well, that I wish he had but the hundredth part of your courage. _Vin._ He has had courage to save you from many a beating, to my knowledge. _Dap._ Come, come, I wish the man well, and, next to you, better than any man! and, I am sorry to say it, he has not courage to snuff a candle with his fingers. When he is drunk, indeed, he dares get a clap, or so--and swear at a constable. _Vin._ Detracting fop! when did you see him desert his friend? _Dap._ You have a rough kind of a raillery, Mr. Vincent; but since you will have it, (though I love the man heartily, I say,) he deserted me once in breaking of windows, for fear of the constables-- _Re-enter_ RANGER. But you need not take notice to him of what I tell you; I hate to put a man to the blush.