Volume Iii Part 121 (2/2)

[_Exit_.

_The End of the First Act_.

ACT II.

SCENE I. _A Chamber in the_ Doctor's _House_.

_An Antick Dance_.

_After the Musick has plaid, enter_ Elaria; _to her_ Bellemante.

_Ela_. Heavens, _Bellemante_! Where have you been?

_Bell_. Fatigu'd with the most disagreeable Affair, for a Person of my Humour, in the World. Oh, how I hate Business, which I do no more mind, than a Spark does the Sermon, who is ogling his Mistress at Church all the while: I have been ruffling over twenty Reams of Paper for my Uncle's Writings.

_Enter_ Scaramouch.

_Scar_. So, so, the old Gentleman is departed this wicked World, and the House is our own for this Night.--Where are the Sparks? where are the Sparks?

_Ela_. Nay, Heaven knows.

_Bell_. How! I hope not so; I left _Charmante_ confin'd to my Closet, when my Uncle had like to have surpriz'd us together: Is he not here?

_Ela_. No, he's escap'd, but he has made sweet doings.

_Bell_. Heavens, Cousin! What?

_Ela_. My Father was coming into the Chamber, and had like to have taken _Cinthio_ with me, when, to conceal him, I put him into your Closet, not knowing of _Charmante's_ being there, and which, in the dark, he took for a Gallant of mine; had not my Father's Presence hinder'd, I believe there had been Murder committed; however they both escap'd unknown.

_Scar_. Pshaw, is that all? Lovers Quarrels are soon Adjusted; I'll to 'em, unfold the Riddle, and bring 'em back--take no care, but go in and dress you for the Ball; _Mopsophil_ has Habits which your Lovers sent to put on: the Fiddles, Treat, and all are prepar'd.

[_Exit_.

_Enter_ Mopsophil.

_Mop_. Madam, your Cousin _Florinda_, with a Lady, are come to visit you.

_Bell_. I'm glad on't, 'tis a good Wench, and we'll trust her with our Mirth and Secret.

[_They go out_.

SCENE II. _Changes to the Street_.

_Enter Page with a Flambeaux, followed by_ Cinthio; _pa.s.ses over the Stage_. Scaramouch _follows_ Cinthio _in a Campaign Coat_.

_Scar_. 'Tis _Cinthio_--Don _Cinthio_. [_Calls, he turns_.

Well, what's the Quarrel?--How fell ye out?

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