Yes, by _Venus_, shall you, Sir,
An she were my Mother.

_Fred._ But art sure thy Father will permit us?

_Lor._ My Father permit us!
He may do what he will when I am sober,
But being thus fortify'd with potent Wine,
He must yield obedience to my Will.
Why, my Lord, I'll tell you,
I'll make him ask me blessing when I am in this
Almighty Power.

_Fred._ And is thy Sister so very fine?

_Lor._ The Girl is well, and if she were not my Sister,
I would give you a more certain Proof of my
Opinion of her;
She has excellent good Hair, fine Teeth,
And good Hands, and the best natur'd Fool--
Come, come, Sir, I'll bring you to her,
And then I'll leave you;
For I have a small Affair of Love to dispatch.

_Fred._ This is a freedom that sutes not with the
Humour of an _Italian_.

_Lor._ No, faith, my Lord; I believe my Mother play'd
Foul play with some _Englishman_;
I am so willing to do you a good office to my Sister.
And if by her Humour you become of that opinion too,
I shall hope to render myself more acceptable
To you by that Franchise.

Enter _Galliard_, whispers.

_Fred._ Thou knowest my grateful Temper,
--No matter; here, carry this Letter to _Cloris_,
And make some excuse for my not coming this Evening.
[Gives him a Letter, and goes out with _Lorenzo_.

_Gal._ So, poor Lass, 'tis a hundred to one if she be not
Lay'd by now, and _Laura_ must succeed her:
Well, even _Frederick_, I see, is but a Man,
But his Youth and Quality will excuse him;
And 'twill be call'd Gallantry in him,
When in one of us, 'tis Ill-nature and Inconstancy. [Exit.

SCENE II. _Antonio's_ House.

Enter _Ismena_ and _Isabella_.

_Isab._ Nay, Madam, 'tis in vain to deny it;
Do you think I have liv'd to these years,
And cannot interpret cross Arms, imperfect Replies,
Your sudden Weepings, your often Sighing,
Your melancholy Walks, and making Verses too?
And yet I must not say that this is Love.

_Ism._ Art thou so notable a Judge of it?

_Isab._ I should be, or I am a very dull Scholar,
For I have lost the foolish Boy as many Darts,
As any Woman of my age in _Florence_.

_Ism._ Thou hast paid dear for thy knowledge then.

_Isab._ No, the hurt ones did, the other still made good, with very
little
Pain on either side.

_Ism._ I must confess, I think it is not so hard to get
Wounds, as 'tis to get them cur'd ag