I can make of the man. Pray, sir-- [_FRANCIS turns his back
to her._] --The beginning promises little enough. Friend, why won't you
look at me.

_Fra._ I like to look at green trees better than green eyes.

_Char._ Green eyes, you monster! Who told you, that my eyes were green?
Let me tell you there have been sonnets made on my eyes, before now.

_Fra._ Glad to hear it.

_Char._ To the point then at once. What is your master?

_Fra._ A man.

_Char._ I surmised as much. But what's his name?

_Fra._ The same as his father's.

_Char._ Not unlikely;--and his father was--

_Fra._ Married.

_Char._ To whom?

_Fra._ To a woman.

_Char._ [_Enraged._] I'll tell you what; who your master is I see I
shall not learn, and I don't care; but I know what you are.

_Fra._ Well, what am I?

_Char._ A bear! [_Exit._

_Fra._ Thank you! Now to see how habit and example corrupt one's
manners. I am naturally the civilest spoken fellow in the world to the
pretty prattling rogues; yet, following my master's humour, I've rudely
driven this wench away. I must have a peep at her though.
[_Looking towards the Park gate._

_Enter STRANGER._

_Stra._ Is that woman gone?

_Fra._ Yes.

_Stra._ Francis!

_Fra._ Sir.

_Stra._ We must be gone too.

_Fra._ But whither?

_Stra._ I don't care.

_Fra._ I'll attend you.

_Stra._ To any place?

_Fra._ To death.

_Stra._ Heav'n grant it--to me, at least! There is peace.

_Fra._ Peace is every where. Let the storm rage without, if the heart be
but at rest. Yet I think we are very well where we are: the situation is
inviting; and nature lavish of her beauties, and of her bounties too.

_Stra._ But I am not a wild beast, to be stared at, and sent for as a
show. Is it fit I should be?

_Fra._ Another of your interpretations! That a man, the life of whose
only son you have saved, should invite you to his house, seems to me not
very unnatural.

_Stra._ I will not be invited to any house.

_Fra._ For once, methinks, you might submit. You'll not be asked a
second time.

_Stra._ Proud wretches! They believe the most essential service is
requited, if one may but have the honour of sitting at their table. Let
us begone.

_Fra._ Yet hold, sir! This bustle will soon be over. Used to the town,
the Count and his party will soon be tired of simple nature, and you
will again be freed from o