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SCENE II. The Palace. Enter Falatius, Labree, as passing by they meet Cleontius. Cle. Your Servant, my Lord. So coldly, stay your reason, Sir. Fal. How mean you, Sir? Cle. Do you not know me? Fal. Yes, I have seen you, and think you are Cleontius, A Servant of the Prince's; wert i'th' Campania too, If I mistake not. Cle. Can you recal me by no better instances? Fal. What need of any, pray? Cle.
King. How did Philander take Erminia's death? Gal. My own surprize and grief was so extream, I know not what effects it had in him; But this account of him, I'm forc'd to give, Since she is dead, I know he cannot live. King. I'll know Philander's fate e'er I proceed; And if he die, Alcippus too shall bleed. SCENE VIII. The Gallery. Enter Falatius and Labree. Fal. Wert thou never valiant, Labree?
Why, that's it, Labree, that I would learn to do, And which I fear, nothing but Poverty will make me do; Jove defend me from that experiment. Enter Erminia veil'd with a thin Tiffany. Lab. What's the matter, Sir? Does the fit take you now? Fal. Save us, save us, from the Fiend. Lab. A Ghost, a Ghost! Er. Fal. Look up, Labree, if thou hast any of that Courage thou spakest of but now. Lab.
I am a Gentleman. Fal. Ha, Labree, what means he now? By Jove, I do not question it, Cleontius: What need this odd Punctilio? I call thee to no account. Cle. That's more than I can say to you, Sir. Fal. I'll excuse you for that. Cle. But shall not need, Sir; stay, I have a Sister. Fal. Oh, the Devil, now he begins. Cle. A handsome Sister too, or you deceiv'd her. Lab. Fal. Cle.
You've too much wit to take ought ill from him: Let's know your quarrel. Fal. By Jove, Labree, I am undone again. Cle. Madam, it was about Fal. Cle. Just nothing Fal. He was a little too familiar with me. Cle. Madam, my Sister Isillia Fal. Cle. Fal. I call my Mistress, Madam. Am. My Cousin Isillia your Mistress! Upon my word, you are a happy Man. Fal.
By Jove, if she be your Cousin, Madam, I love her much the better for't. Am. I am beholding to you, But then it seems I have lost a Lover of you. Cle. Confess she has, or I'll so handle you. Labree. Fal. That's too much, Cleontius but I will, By Jove, Madam, I must not have a Mistress that Has more Wit than my self, they ever require More than a Man's able to give them. Oli.
Orgulius, late General, Father to Erminia, Mr. Norris. Alcander, Friend to the Prince, in love with Aminta, Mr. Young. Pisaro, Friend to the young General Alcippus, Mr. Cademan. Falatius, a fantastick Courtier, Mr. Angel. Labree, his Man. Cleontius, Servant to the Prince, and Brother Mr. Galatea, Daughter to the King, Mrs. Jennings. Erminia, Daughter to Orgulius, espous'd to the Mrs. Betterton.
Now am I in a very fine condition, A comfortable one, as I take it: I have ventur'd my Life to some purpose now; What confounded luck was this, that he of all men Living, should happen to be my Rival? Well, I'll go visit Aminta, and see how She receives me. Why, where a duce hast thou dispos'd of Enter Labree. Thy self all this day?
Mark me, Labree, once for all; if thou takest Delight continually thus to put me in mind of My want of Courage, I shall undoubtedly Fall foul on thee, and give thee most fatal proofs Of more than thou expectest. Lab. Nay, Sir, I have done, and do believe 'tis only I dare say you are a man of Prowess. Fal. Leave thy simple fancies, and go about thy business. Lab.
What mean you by that word? Lab. Fal. Will she do reason, or so? you understand me. Cle. I understand that thou'rt an impudent fellow, Whom I must cudgel into better manners. Fal. Pox on't, who bears up now, Labree? Cle. Beat thee till thou confess thou art an Ass, And on thy knees confess it to Isillia, Who after that shall scorn thee. Lab.
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