Act 2 — Scene I. The Apartment of Frederick.

Fred. Not allow me to speak to her, say ye, ’tis strange; Didst say it was the Prince that sent thee? Gal. My Lord, I did, but he says, he cares not for A thousand Princes. Fred. I am resolv’d I will see this Woman; —Harkye, go back again and say— Whispers.

Lor. Hah, the Prince—he must not see me In this pickle; for I would not lose my Reputation Of Wenching for this of Drinking; And I am sure I cannot be excellent at both, They are inconsistent. Gal. I shall, my Lord. Exit. Lor. Your Highness’s humble Servant. Fred. Ha, ha, what, Lorenzo in debauch? Lor. Now my Tongue will betray me:— Faith, my Lord, I have took six, but am come briskly off; By this hand, my Lord, I am Cock over five Stout Rogues too, I can tell you, at this sport. Fred. I did not think thou hadst had that Virtue. Lor. I’ll tell you, Sir, ’tis necessary those of my Office and Quality should have more Virtues Than one to recommend them; But to tell you truth, for now I am most apt for that, I was drunk in mere Malice to day. Fred. Malice, against whom, prithee? Lor. Why, why, Sir, the humorous old Fellow, My Father, He will not hear reason from me when I am sober. My Lord, you know Curtius is an honest Fellow, And one of us too; My Sister Laura is a good pretty Wench, He loves her, and she likes him; And because this testy old Blade has done himself, Do you think I can bring him to consider? No, not for my Life, he won’t consider, Sir; And now am I got drunk to see how that will edify him. Fred. How! is Laura, the Mistress of Curtius, your Sister? Lor. Yes, marry is she, Sir, at least by the Mother’s side; And to tell you truth, We are too good-natur’d to believe Salvator our Father. Fred. Thy Sister, and Daughter to Salvator? Lor. So said my Mother, but she was handsome; And on my conscience liv’d e’en in such another Debauch’d World as ’tis now, let them say What they will of their primitive Virtue. Fred. May not I see this Sister of thine, Lorenzo? Lor. Yes, by Venus, shall you, Sir, An she were my Mother. Fred. But art sure thy Father will permit us? Lor. My Father permit us! He may do what he will when I am sober, But being thus fortify’d with potent Wine, He must yield obedience to my Will. Why, my Lord, I’ll tell you, I’ll make him ask me blessing when I am in this Almighty Power. Fred. And is thy Sister so very fine? Lor. The Girl is well, and if she were not my Sister, I would give you a more certain Proof of my Opinion of her; She has excellent good Hair, fine Teeth, And good Hands, and the best natur’d Fool— Come, come, Sir, I’ll bring you to her, And then I’ll leave you; For I have a small Affair of Love to dispatch. Fred. This is a freedom that sutes not with the Humour of an Italian. Lor. No, faith, my Lord; I believe my Mother play’d Foul play with some Englishman; I am so willing to do you a good office to my Sister. And if by her Humour you become of that opinion too, I shall hope to render myself more acceptable To you by that Franchise.

Fred. Thou knowest my grateful Temper, —No matter; here, carry this Letter to Cloris, And make some excuse for my not coming this Evening. Gives him a Letter, and goes out with Lorenzo. Gal. So, poor Lass, ’tis a hundred to one if she be not Lay’d by now, and Laura must succeed her: Well, even Frederick, I see, is but a Man, But his Youth and Quality will excuse him; And ’twill be call’d Gallantry in him, When in one of us, ’tis Ill-nature and Inconstancy.