HILLARIO.

Ha! Ha! Ha!

CAMILLA.

How now, Hillario?

HILLARIO.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh my Sides, my Sides!

JULIA.

Why what's the Matter, Man?

HILLARIO.

Why? Ha! Ha! Ha!—Why—yonder's poor Lord Maximin a sweating, and swearing, and chafing, as if he had not an Hour to live.

CAMILLA.

Aye! how so?

HILLARIO.

Why, you must know—but I should first have told you, that the Duke for some secret Services had promis'd him the first Post that fell near his Person. Now, you know, the Lord Treasurer died about a Week ago— upon which Maximin taking it for granted that he was the Man, whips me up in his new Coach, lac'd Liveries, doubles his Retinue, and hires a House to receive the Compliments of his Friends, as though he were already invested.

JULIA.

Well, what then?

CAMILLA.

His Highness (for some private Reasons, I suppose) taking it in his Head that he had promis'd to serve a certain Lady's Husband, sends for the Gentleman, invests him privately, and had just finish'd the Ceremony when Maximin begg'd Leave to kiss his Hand.—But to see how the poor Devil look'd when he saw Mr. What-d'ye-call-um there in the Chair—

JULIA.

Ha! ha! ha! Poor Maximin! I warrant the Gentleman will take Pet, grow weary of the Court, fall in Love with Retirement, and spend his Life in the Country.—

CAMILLA.

Till another Place offers. Ha! ha! ha!

HILLARIO.

Marry, I wish he does not go into a Convent—for he turn'd to a certain fat intriguing Abbot, and whisper'd him aloud, that he had so good an Opinion of his Conversation, and Way of Living, that he had Thoughts of putting himself under his Direction.

CAMILLA.

A proper Place for Improvement!—I wou'd as soon send my Son into England to learn French, or Holland to acquire Politeness.

JULIA.

He's safe however in one particular; for if he gains no Virtue there, he's sure of losing none.

CAMILLA.

Except it be that of sinning fairly, and appearing in his own proper Character.

HILLARIO.

I believe the only Objection he has, is, that he does not know readily what Religion to say he's of, should he chance to be ask'd the Question.

JULIA.

A very grand Difficulty, indeed;—best go over to England then, where it does not signify what he's of, or whether of any, or no.

HILLARIO.

Why, truly, they are a good honest, heathenish Sort of a People there, as I've heard—but for that Matter, I believe we are not much behind-hand with them in that Affair, any more than the rest of our Neighbours: But— Ha! ha! ha! Look Lady Julia (Camilla appears Melancholy) did ever Mortal see such a Romance in Folio?— Why, Lady Camilla,—what's the Matter?—Why you're as dull as an Atheist in a high Fever, or a Girl of eighteen without a Lover.

CAMILLA.

I cannot always command my Temper, Hillario?— I have Reason for my Melancholy.

HILLARIO.

Poor Lady!—I'll be hang'd if she be'nt in Love now, if the Truth were known.—

JULIA.

You have guest it, Hillario.

CAMILLA.

Believe her not, she's only merry with you.

JULIA.

Upon my Honour 'tis true.

HILLARIO.

And upon mine, I believe it:—Behold the Symptoms —D'ye think to deceive me in such a Case as this? Marry, then I've had all my Experience for nothing.— Why I have been in Love myself, d'ye see, some forty or fifty Times now.—

JULIA.

Oh the fickle Monster—not desperately, I presume.

HILLARIO.

Horribly, most intolerably—but once in particular— Ah! that once! I protest I tremble with the very Thoughts of it.—I was so far gone, that rhyming and fighting were as natural to me as Lying to a Chambermaid, or Intriguing to a pamper'd Friar:—Such Eyes! such Lips! and such a Shape—O ye Gods!—

CAMILLA.

Poor Hillario! Why he's in Love yet.—

HILLARIO.

No, no, no, no: Hold there—I am some two or three Stone better than a Man as much in Love as I was.

JULIA.

Pr'ythee how got you cur'd then?

HILLARIO.

Why one Day being in a little better Spirits than ordinary, I happen'd to say something that pleas'd my Mistress—so what does me, I ^note but takes her in the critical

Minute, whips her into the next Chapel, and marries her, and the Devil take me if I ever lik'd her afterwards.

JULIA.

Ha! ha! ha!—A most excellent Remedy!—

HILLARIO.

A modern Receipt,—a modern Receipt.—But hold, ho! Who have we here?