_Ran._ Five doors off, on the right hand. _Vin._ Pish! pish!-- _Ran._ What's the matter? _Vin._ Does she live there, do you say? _Ran._ Yes; I observed them exactly, that my account from you might be exact. Do you know who lives there? _Vin._ Yes, so well, that I know you are mistaken. _Ran._ Is she not a young lady scarce eighteen, of extraordinary beauty, her stature next to low, and in mourning? _Val._ What is this? [_Aside._ _Vin._ She is; but if you saw her, you broke in at window. _Ran._ I chased her home from the Park, indeed, taking her for another lady who had some claim to my heart, till she showed a better title to't. _Vin._ Hah! hah! hah! _Val._ Was she at the Park, then? and have I a new rival? [_Aside._ _Vin._ From the Park did you follow her, do you say?--I knew you were mistaken. _Ran._ I tell you I am not. _Vin._ If you are sure it was that house, it might be perhaps her woman stolen to the Park, unknown to her lady. _Ran._ My acquaintance does usually begin with the maid first, but now 'twas with the mistress, I assure you. _Vin._ The mistress!--I tell you she has not been out of her doors since Valentine's flight. She is his mistress,--the great heiress, Christina. _Ran._ I tell you then again, I followed that Christina from the Park home, where I talked with her half an hour, and intend to see her to morrow again. _Val._ Would she talk with him too! [_Aside._ _Vin._ It cannot be. _Ran._ Christina do you call her? Faith I am sorry she is an heiress, lest it should bring the scandal of interest, and the design of lucre, upon my love. _Vin._ No, no, her face and virtues will free you from that censure. But, however, 'tis not fairly done to rival your friend Valentine in his absence; and when he is present you know 'twill be dangerous, by my Lord Clerimont's example. Faith, if you have seen her, I would not advise you to attempt it again. _Ran._ You may be merry, sir, you are not in love; your advice I come not for, nor will I for your assistance;--Good night. [_Exit._ _Val._ Here's your Penelope! the woman that had not seen the sun, nor face of man, since my departure! for it seems she goes out in the night, when the sun is absent, and faces are not distinguished. _Vin._ Why! do you believe him? _Val._ Should I believe you? _Vin._ 'Twere more for your interest, and you would be less deceived. If you believe him, you must doubt the chastity of all the fine women in town, and five miles about. _Val._ His reports of them will little invalidate his testimony with me. _Vin._ He spares not the innocents in bibs and aprons. I'll secure you, he has made (at best) some gross mistake concerning Christina, which to-morrow will discover; in the meantime let us go to sleep. _Val._ I will not hinder you, because I cannot enjoy it myself:-- Hunger, Revenge, to sleep are petty foes, But only Death the jealous eyes can close. [_Exeunt._ ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I.--_A Room in_ Mrs. CROSSBITE'S _House._