_Cloris_ dressed like a Country-Boy, follow'd by _Guilliam_
a Clown; _Cloris_ comes reading a Letter.

_Clo._ [Reads.] Cloris, _beware of Men; for though I my self be one,_
_Yet I have the Frailties of my Sex, and can dissemble too;_
_Trust none of us, for if thou dost, thou art undone;_
_We make Vows to all alike we see,_
_And even the best of Men, the Prince,_
_Is not to be credited in an affair of Love._
--Oh _Curtius_, thy advice was very kind;
Had it arriv'd before I'ad been undone!
--Can _Frederick_ too be false!
A Prince, and be unjust to her that loves him too?
--Surely it is impossible--
Perhaps thou lov'st me too, and this may be
[Pointing to the Letter.
Some Plot of thine to try my Constancy:
--Howe'er it be, since he could fail last night
Of seeing me, I have at least a cause to justify
This shameful change; and sure in this Disguise,
I shall not soon be known, dost think I shall? [Looks on herself.

_Guil._ Why, forsooth, what do you intend to pass for,
A Maid or a Boy?

_Clo._ Why, what I seem to be, will it not do?

_Guil._ Yes, yes, it may do, but I know not what;
I would Love would transmography me to a Maid now,
--We should be the prettiest Couple:
Don't you remember when you dress'd me up the last
Carnival, was I not the woundiest handsome Lass
A body could see in a Summer's day?
There was _Claud_ the Shepherd as freakish after me,
I'll warrant you, and simper'd and tript it like any thing.

_Clo._ Ay, but they say 'tis dangerous for young
Maids to live at Court.

_Guil._ Nay, then I should be loth to give temptation.
--Pray, forsooth, what's that you read so often there?

_Clo._ An advice to young Maids that are in love.

_Guil._ Ay, ay, that same Love is a very vengeance thing,
Wou'd I were in love too; I see it makes a body valiant;
One neither feels Hunger nor Cold that is possest with it.

_Clo._ Thou art i'th' right, it can do Miracles.

_Guil._ So it seems, for without a Miracle you and I could never
Have rambled about these Woods all night without either Bottle or
Wallet:
I could e'en cry for hunger now.

_Clo._ What a dull Soul this Fellow hath?
Sure it can never feel the generous Pains
Of Love, as mine does now; oh, how I glory
To find my Heart above the common rate!
Were not my Prince inconstant,
I would not envy what the Blessed do above:
But he is false, good H