Isa.  How, a Lord! oh, heavens! Jacinta, my Fan, and set my Hair in order, oh, the Gods!  I would not but see a Lord for all the World! how my Heart beats already—­keep your Distance behind, Jacinta,—­bless me, how I tremble—­a little farther, Jacinta.

Fran.  Come, come, Huswife, you shall be married anon, and then let your Husband have the plague of you—­but for my Gentlewoman,—­Oh Lord —­they’re here.

    Enter Guiliom, Carlos, and Pages, _&c_.

Gull.  How now, Fellow, where’s this old Don Francisco?

Fran.  I’m the Person, Sir.

Isa.  Heavens, what an Air he has!

Guil.  Art thou he?  Old Lad, how dost thou do?  Hah!

Fran.  I don’t know.

Guil.  Thou knowest me not it seems, old Fellow, hah!

Fran.  Know you—­no, nor desire to do,—­on what acquaintance, pray?

Guil.  By Instinct; such as you ought to know a Person of Quality, and pay your Civilities naturally; in France, where I have travel’d, so much good manners is used, your Citizen pulls off his hat, thus—­to every Horse of Quality, and every Coach of Quality; and do you pay my proper Person no more respect, hah!

Isa.  What a Dishonour’s this to me, to have so dull a Father, that needs to be instructed in his Duty.

Guil.  But, Sir, to open the eyes of your understanding—­here’s a Letter to you, from your Correspondent a Merchant of Sevil.

    [Gives him a dirty Letter which he wipes on his Cloke and reads,
    and begins to pull off his hat, and reading on bows lower and lower
    till he have finisht it.

Fran.  Cry Mercy, my Lord,—­and yet I wou’d he were a thousand Leagues off.

Guil.  I have Bills of Exchange too, directed to thee, old Fellow, at
Sevil; but finding thee not there, and I (as most Persons of my
Quality are) being something idle, and never out of my way, came to this
Town, to seek thee, Fellow—­being recommended as thou seest here, old
Vermin—­here—­
                  [Gives him Bills.

Isa.  Ah, what a graceful Mein he has! how fine his Conversation! ah, the difference between him and a filthy Citizen!

Jul.—­Clara has told me all.—­ [Jac. whispering to Jul.

Car.  That’s she in the middle; stand looking on her languishingly,

—­your head a little on one side,—­so,—­fold your Arms,—­good,—­now and then heave your breast with a sigh,—­most excellent.—­
                                                    [He groans.

Fran.  Bills for so many thousands.

Jac.  He has you in his eye already.

Isa.  Ah, Jacinta, thou flatterest me.

Jac.  Return him some kind looks in pity.
                        [She sets her Eyes, and bows, &c.