ne'er a Chimney in 'em:--Pox on't, what have I
to do with a Chimney now?

_Isa_. He is a delicate fine Person, _Jacinta_; but, methinks he does
not make Love enough to me.

_Jac_. Oh, Madam, Persons of his Quality never make Love in Words, the
greatness of their Actions show their Passion.

_Jac_. Ay, 'tis true all the little Fellows talk of Love.

_Guil_. Come, Ladies, set; Come, _Isabella_, you are melancholy,--Page
--Fill my Lady a Beer-glass.

_Isa_. Ah, Heav'ns, a Beer-glass.

_Guil_. O, your Viscountess never drinks under your Beer-glass, your
Citizens Wives simper and sip, and will be drunk without doing Credit to
the Treater; but in their Closets, they swinge it away, whole Slashes,
i'faith, and egad, when a Woman drinks by her self, Glasses come thick
about: your Gentlewoman, or your little Lady, drinks half way, and
thinks in point of good manners, she must leave some at the bottom; but
your true bred Woman of Honour drinks all, _Supernaculum_, by _Jove_.

_Isa_. What a misfortune it was, that I should not know this before, but
shou'd discover my want of so necessary a piece of Grandeur.

_Jac_. And nothing, but being fuddled, will redeem her Credit.

_Guil_. Come--fall to, old Boy,--thou art not merry; what, have we none
that can give us a Song?

_Ant_. Oh Sir, we have an Artist aboard I'll assure you; Signior
_Cashier_, shall I beg the favour of you to shew your Skill?

_Pet_. Sir, my Wife and I'm at your service.

_Guil_. Friend, what Language can you sing?

_Pet_. Oh, Sir, your Singers speak all Languages.

_Guil_. Say'st thou so, prithee then let's have a touch of Heathen
_Greek_.

_Pet_. That you shall, Sir, Sol la me fa sol, &c.

_Fran_. Hum, I think this is indeed Heathen _Greek_, I'm sure 'tis so
to me.

_Guil_. Ay, that may be, but I understand every word on't.

_Fran_. Good lack, these Lords are very learned Men.

_Pet_. Now, Sir, you shall hear one of another Language from my Wife and
I. [_Sing a Dialogue_ in French.

_Enter the_ Captain.

_Capt_. Well, Gentlemen, though the news be something unpleasant that I
bring, yet to noble minds 'tis sport and pastime.

_Guil_. Hah, Fellow! What's that that's sport and pastime to noble
minds.

_Fran_. Oh Lord, no goodness, I'll warrant.

_Capt_. But, Gentlemen, pluck up your Spirits, be bold and resolute.

_Fran_. Oh Lord, bold and resolute! why, what's the matter, Captain?

_Capt_. You are old, Signior, and we expect