HILLARIO.

Well encounter'd, my Lord: I wanted to ask you a Sort of a Question, and was seeking you.

MARCELLUS.

A Question of me Friend! Pr'ythee what is it?

HILLARIO.

Nay, 'tis no great Matter of Business; only as I was coming down the Forest this Morning, I observed you very familiar with the young Shepherdess Florinda: Now I wou'd be glad to have your Opinion of her; how d'ye like her Sir?

MARCELLUS.

Like her?

HILLARIO.

Aye Sir.

MARCELLUS.

As well as the rest of her Sex; she's a Woman.

HILLARIO.

Aye, one may guess that by a little Sort of a Qualification she has communicated to you.

MARCELLUS.

What's that?

HILLARIO.

Only the Art of Dissembling, Sir.—Why did not I see you make Love to her with all the Tenderness of a Coxcomb of eighteen to his first Mistress? And after you parted, did not you sit down, and sigh, and look as melancholy as a Girl that has staid past the canonical Hour o' the Day she was to be married.—Come, come Sir, confess, confess.

MARCELLUS.

You are merry Friend; but shou'd season your Wit with Truth: I have other Reasons for my Melancholy.

HILLARIO.

And you really are not in Love with Florinda?

MARCELLUS.

'Tis not in the Power of any Woman to give me a Moment's Uneasiness that Way; and least I think in her's.

HILLARIO.

I'm glad of it; for you must know I have some Thoughts of marrying her myself.

MARCELLUS.

How Sir? you marry Florinda!

HILLARIO.

Ay, 'tis so. [Aside.] Why not Sir?

MARCELLUS.

Let me but know you dare to think of such a Thing.— No Sir, I'll have no more Procreation; the World's too full of Coxcombs already.

HILLARIO.

'Tis certainly so:—Poor Devil!—How I begin to pity him now. [Aside.] Well Sir, no Offence I hope;—

upon my Soul Sir I only jested.—But pray Sir, since you are not in Love, may I beg to know the Reason of your Melancholy?

MARCELLUS.

I love it better than laughing.

HILLARIO.

Aye, but Extreams in either are certainly ridiculous; and methinks you seem to indulge it rather too much.

MARCELLUS.

Perhaps so Sir: But there are different Kinds and Degrees of Melancholy; now mine is not the Scholar's Melancholy, which is emulative, nor the Musicians, which is fantastical; the Courtiers, which is proud; nor the Soldiers, which is ambitious; I am not politically dull with the Statesman, nor nicely with the Ladies: In short Sir, mine is a Melancholy of my own, extracted, like Honey by the Bees, from the various Objects of my Travels:—I have seen the World, and the Contemplation of it has wrapp'd me up in this same humourous Sadness.

HILLARIO.

How! a Traveller? nay then, I fear you've Reason to be sad: You have sold your own Lands perhaps to gain a Sight of other Men's; and, in my Opinion, to see much and to have little, is to have rich Eyes and poor Hands, 'tis the Prodigal's Curse.

MARCELLUS.

But I have gain'd Experience.

HILLARIO.

And your Experience makes you sad: Believe me, I had rather have Folly and Ignorance to make me merry, than Experience to make me melancholy, especially when I had travell'd for it.

MARCELLUS.

Well Friend, all Men were not born to be of one Opinion: —Enjoy your Fancy, and I'll adhere to mine.

HILLARIO.

Why there it is now; I never knew a Man in all my Life mend by being told of his Failings; nay, he'll frequently grow worse, merely through Opposition, and to make the World believe he did not think himself on the wrong Side the Argument.

MARCELLUS.

Why do you find Fault then?

HILLARIO.

For Discourse. If it were not for a little criticizing now, and then, a Man wou'd be at a Loss to keep up the Spirit of a Conversation.

MARCELLUS.

But 'tis ill-natur'd to find Fault with no other Design than to promote a foolish Mirth; and may be dangerous.

HILLARIO.

Not at all Sir; for tho' I displease one Person, I oblige a great many; for there's no one, but is fond of hearing his Neighbour's Imperfections, tho' ever so impatient at a Repetition of his own: Beside, there are particular Ways of doing it;—as for Instance,—I tell Cosmelia she has a fine Complexion,—she takes it all for Gospel, while the rest of the Company know I'm rallying her on the long Streaks of Vermillion, and White Lead, that cover her Deformity.—Again,—My Lord, says I to a great Man,—a Man of your Lordship's Sincerity is a Miracle in an Age like this:—He answers me with a Bow,—and a Smile, far different from that of the rest of the Company, who know him for one of the most deceitful Hypocrites about the Court.—In short, Sir, my

Method of rallying is to praise a Man for a Virtue he particularly wants; and with me a Cardinal is the most humble, a Lawyer the most honest, and a Soldier the most religious of all Mankind.

MARCELLUS.

But pr'ythee Friend, how can you reconcile this to your Conscience?

HILLARIO.

My Conscience, Sir, is so good-natur'd, as never to give me the least Uneasiness about it. Why Qui vult decipi, decipiatur. If the World will be so foolish, as to swallow gross Flatt'ry, let it: and if no one thinks the Fool's Cap sits him, why should I make it appear that it does? I tell no Man directly he's a Fool, but am content with railing at the Gross; and believe me Sir, in a general Satire, no Man will have so bad an Opinion of himself, as to think his own Character particularly aim'd at.

MARCELLUS.

Well, Heaven send me far from a Place, where Flattery, and Fraud are openly profess'd.

HILLARIO.

Let us see now which of us two upon Examination will prove most in the right? I for making myself merry with the Follies of the World, or you for continually fretting at them?—Is not all the World mad?—and will it not continue so in Spite of your Philosophy? Your Citizen's mad for trusting the Courtier with his Goods, and his 'Prentice with his Wife: Your Courtiers are mad for believing one another: The Lawyer's mad for selling his Soul for a Fee, which his Client's more mad for giving him: The Lover's as mad with Jealousy, as his Mistress is with Vanity;—And, in short, a Madness of one Kind or other, is as natural to a Man, as 'tis for a Woman to believe you when you praise her Beauty.

MARCELLUS.

I think, Sir, you are acquainted with the World.

HILLARIO.

Aye Faith, I know enough to be tir'd of it, as well as you:—I was Fool enough, upon my first coming into it, to fancy Desert the only Way to Promotion, and so set up for being very wife;—but I soon found there was little to be got that Way, and e'en turn'd Fool: Upon this I was immediately caress'd by every Body, and loaded with Preferment, when there was no Danger of my being thought wiser than my Patrons, and Assistants.

MARCELLUS.

It seems to me a Contradiction to suppose Folly a Recommendation in a Man.

HILLARIO.

Why I don't know how it may be in other Places, but in our Country I'm sure he'll find himself damnably mistaken, that thinks Merit any Step to Advancement.

MARCELLUS.

That may possibly be owing to the Management of those, who are at the Head of affairs, who do not care to introduce a Man of Sense, or a fine Genius, lest he shou'd discover the Frauds in their Behaviour, or outshine, and supplant them.

HILLARIO.

Doubtless Sir; and for the Reason I have always thought that People must be bless'd, and such there are 'tis said even now, the happy Subjects of a neighbouring Monarch who are under the Direction of a Minister, whose superior Genius makes him despise such Arts; who always pays a due Regard to Merit, and thinks it his greatest Happiness to have it in his Power to be serviceable to such, as deserve well of their Country.

MARCELLUS.

Happy People!—And yet perhaps they taste it not; for even Blessings cloy when in the Possession of Wretches who know not how to prize them as they ought.—But pray Sir what makes you so inveterate against the Court? I thought you said just now you belong'd to it.

HILLARIO.

Oh, 'tis the Fashion Sir; no one can be reckon'd a Man of Wit now, till he has thrown off Religion, and learn'd to rail at the Court, and the Clergy; one for being too powerful, the other too rich, and too proud.— But to be plain with you, Sir, I am but a second-hand Sort of a Courtier at present, for I have lost my Place, and am out of Favour.

MARCELLUS.

Oh! your humble Servant Sir; if you had but given me that Reason first, I'd have excus'd you any other.

HILLARIO.

But come, enough of Trifles.—Now Sir, if you are not so far gone as to be deaf to good Advice, and think the Man impertinent that gives it, I have something to propose, which perhaps may be to your Advantage.

MARCELLUS.

Well Sir, begin then; I shall at least indulge you a Hearing;—or do you wait for the usual Symptoms of a Client?

HILLARIO.

No Sir, I shall for once break thro' a Court Custom, and give my Advice without a Fee.

MARCELLUS.

Perhaps it may be worth as little as you ask for it.

HILLARIO.

That's as it shall happen.—In short, Sir, I see your generous Temper, and approve of it; and before I proceed

shall give you a Mark of my Confidence, by trusting you with a Secret, which is that I despise a Fool in my Heart as much, as you do; but finding that Fortune bestow'd her Favours on none but those, that least deserv'd them, I assumed the Character I contemn; my only Recommendation was Flattery, railing at the Absent, and caressing the Present: This, Sir, was no small Advantage to my Fortune, as well as my Reputation.

MARCELLUS.

Well Sir, all this you told me before: But what is it you wou'd propose to me?

HILLARIO.

What I wou'd tell you is this:—The Lady you are in Love with—Nay, never start, for I both see, and know it; even your Manner of denying it just now, convinc'd me more fully of it—That Lady, I say, is of a Birth, and Fortune, that may challenge the noblest Man in Germany.

MARCELLUS.

I fear 'tis in vain to deny it;—sure there is something particular in Love, which distinguishes those, that are troubled with it from other Men. [Aside.] I must confess Sir—

HILLARIO.

Come never make Excuses; 'tis what we are all subject to, and no Man need be asham'd of.—If you'll trust to my Management, I'll order it so that your Conduct shall not be in the least subject to Ridicule, and the whole Affair seem rather forc'd upon you, than of your own seeking.

MARCELLUS.

Well Sir, I must acknowledge that I think that Lady has Beauty, and you Sincerity and good Nature; and if my Opinion of you increases in Proportion to what it has done already, I don't know but I may be weak enough

to be reconcil'd to the World again:—But an Alteration too sudden may not be altogether proper.

HILLARIO.

I warrant we order Matters well enough for that; when you see her again let her not perceive the least Change in you, but receive her as you us'd to do.— Oh! she's coming yonder with her Brother; walk this Way with me, it may not be proper to venture on an Encounter yet, till you have consider'd your own Strength a little.

MARCELLUS.

I will but take one Look, and follow you.

HILLARIO.

Nay, if you'll not be rul'd, good by t'ye.

MARCELLUS.

Lead on Sir.—Oh Woman! Woman! that it shou'd be in thy Power to effect such Changes. How has one Day's Love alter'd me!

HILLARIO.

For the better, I warrant you—Come on.