have command to bring you, Sir, instantly.

_Lean._ This is ill luck, Madam, I cannot see the Farce out; I'll wait
on you as soon as my good Fortune will permit me.
[Exit with _Page_.

_Luc._ He's going to my Mother, dear _Isabella_, let's go and hinder
their Discourse: Farewel, Sir Ambassador, pray remember us to _Psyche_,
not forgetting the little blind Archer, ha, ha, ha.--

[Ex. _Lucr._ and _Isab._ laughing.

Sir _Cred._ So, I have undone all, they are both gone, flown I protest;
why, what a Devil ail'd em? Now have I been dumb all this while to no
purpose, you too never told her my meaning right; as I hope to breathe,
had any but yourself done this, I should have sworn by _Helicon_ and all
the rest of the Devils, you had had a design to have abus'd me, and
cheated me of all my Moveables too.

_Lod._ What a hopeful Project was here defeated by my mistake! but
courage, Sir _Credulous_, I'll put you in a way shall fetch all about
again.

Sir _Cred._ Say you so? ah, dear _Lodwick_, let me hear it.

_Lod._ Why, you shall this Night give your Mistress a Serenade.

Sir _Cred._ How! a Serenade!

_Lod._ Yes, but it must be perform'd after an Extravagant manner, none
of your dull amorous Night-walking Noises so familiar in this Town;
_Lucretia_ loves nothing but what's great and extravagant, and passes
the reach of vulgar practice.

Sir _Cred._ What think you of a silent Serenade? Zoz, say but the word
and it shall be done, Man, let me alone for Frolicks, i'faith.

_Lod._ A silent one! no, that's to wear a good humour to the Stumps;
I wou'd have this want for no Noise; the extremes of these two Addresses
will set off one another.

Sir _Cred._ Say you so? what think you then of the Bagpipe, Tongs, and
Gridiron, Cat-calls, and loud-sounding Cymbals?

_Lod._ Naught, naught, and of known use; you might as well treat her
with Viols and Flute-doux, which were enough to disoblige her for ever.

Sir _Cred._ Why, what think you then of the King of _Bantam's_ own
Musick.

_Lod._ How! the King of _Bantam's_ Musick?

Sir _Cred._ Ay, Sir, the King of _Bantam's_: a Friend of mine had a
Present sent him from thence, a most unheard of curiosity I'll assure
you.

_Lod._ That, that by all means, Sir.

Sir _Cred._ Well, I'll go borrow 'em presently.

_Lod._ You must provide your self of a Song.

Sir _Cred._ A Song! hang't, 'tis but rummaging the Play-Books, stealing
thence is lawful Prize--Well, Sir, your Ser