_Dur._ Hast thou the impudence to promise thyself a lady of her figure and quality in so short a time?
_Y. Mir._ Yes, sir; I have a confident address, no disagreeable person, and five hundred Lewis d'ors in my pocket.
_Dur._ Five hundred Lewis d'ors! you an't mad!
_Y. Mir._ I tell you, she's worth five thousand; one of her black, brilliant eyes, is worth a diamond as big as her head.
_Dur._ But you have owned to me, that, abating Oriana's pretensions to marriage, you loved her passionately; then how can you wander at this rate?
_Y. Mir._ I longed for a partridge t'other day, off the king's plate, but d'ye think, because I could not have it, I must eat nothing?
_Enter_ ORIANA, _in Boy's Clothes, with a Letter_.
_Oriana._ A letter from your uncle, in Picardy. [_Gives the Letter._
_The bearer is the son of a protestant gentleman, who, flying for his religion, left me the charge of this youth._--A pretty Boy!--_He's fond of some handsome service, that may afford him opportunity of improvement: your care of him will oblige, Yours._ Hast a mind to travel, child?
_Oriana._ 'Tis my desire, sir; I should be pleased to serve a traveller in any capacity.
_Y. Mir._ A hopeful inclination; you shall along with me into Italy, as my page.
_Dur._ [_Noise without._] Too handsome--The play's done, and some of the ladies come this way.
[LAMORCE _without, with her Train borne up by a_ PAGE.
_Y. Mir._ Duretete, the very dear, identical she!
_Y. Mir._ Then!--Why, lookye, sirrah, the first piece of service I put upon you, is to follow that lady's coach, and bring me word where she lives. [_To_ ORIANA.
_Oriana._ I don't know the town, sir, and am afraid of losing myself.
_Lam._ Page, what's become of all my people?
_Page._ I can't tell, madam; I can see no sign of your ladyship's coach.
_Lam._ That fellow has got into his old pranks, and fallen drunk somewhere;--none of the footmen there?
_Lam._ These servants are the plague of our lives--what shall I do?
_Y. Mir._ By all my hopes, Fortune pimps for me! now, Duretete, for a piece of gallantry!
_Y. Mir._ Won't, brute!--Let not your servants' neglect, madam, put your ladyship to any inconvenience; for you can't be disappointed of an equipage, whilst mine waits below: and, would you honour the master so far, he would be proud to pay his attendance.