Bring 'em to me, And I'll convert that Coxcomb, and that Blockhead, into Your Honour and Right-Worshipful.
_Doct_. Mad, stark mad! Why, Sirrah, Rogue--_Scaramouch_ --How got this Mad-man in?
[_While the_ Doctor _turns to_ Scaramouch, Cinthio _speaks softly to_ Elaria.
_Cin_. Oh, thou perfidious Maid! Who hast thou hid in yonder conscious Closet? [_Aside to her_.
_Scar_. Why, Sir, he was brought in a Chair for your Advice; but how he rambled from the Parlour to this Chamber, I know not.
_Cin_. Upon a winged Horse, ycleped _Pegasus_, Swift as the fiery Racers of the Sun,--I fly--I fly--See how I mount, and cut the liquid Sky.
[_Runs out_.
_Doct_. Alas, poor Gentleman, he's past all Cure.--But, Sirrah, for the future, take you care that no young mad Patients be brought into my House.
_Scar_. I shall, Sir,--and see,--here's your Key you look'd for.
_Doct_. That's well; I must be gone--Bar up the Doors, and upon Life or Death let no man enter.
[_Exit_ Doctor, _and all with him, with the Light_.
Charmante _peeps out--and by degrees comes all out, listning every step_.
_Char_. Who the Devil cou'd that be that pull'd me from the Closet? but at last I'm free, and the Doctor's gone; I'll to _Cinthio_, and bring him to pass this Night with our Mistresses.
[_Exit_.
_As he is gone off, enter_ Cinthio _groping_.
_Cin_. Now for this lucky Rival, if his Stars will make this last part of his Adventure such. I hid my self in the next Chamber, till I heard the Doctor go, only to return to be reveng'd.
[_He gropes his way into the Closet, with his Sword drawn_.
_Enter_ Elaria _with a Light_.
_Ela_. _Scaramouch_ tells me _Charmante_ is conceal'd in the Closet, whom _Cinthio_ surely has mistaken for some Lover of mine, and is jealous; but I'll send _Charmante_ after him, to make my peace and undeceive him. [_Goes to the Door_.
--Sir, Sir, where are you? they are all gone, you may adventure out.
[Cinthio _comes out_.
Ha,--_Cinthio_ here?
_Cin_. Yes, Madam, to your shame: Now your Perfidiousness is plain, false Woman, 'Tis well your Lover had the dexterity of escaping, I'ad spoil'd his making Love else. [_Goes from her, she holds him_.
_Ela_. Prithee hear me.
_Cin_. But since my Ignorance of his Person saves his Life, live and possess him, till I can discover him. [_Goes out_.
_Ela_. Go, peevish Fool-- Whose Jealousy believes me given to change, Let thy own Torments be my just Revenge.
[_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; _passes 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?