OLD MIRABEL'S _House_.
_Enter_ DURETETE.
_Dur._ My friend has forsaken me, I have abandoned my mistress, my time
lies heavy upon my hands, and my money burns in my pocket--But now I
think on't, my myrmidons are upon duty to-night; I'll fairly stroll down
to the guard, and nod away the night with my honest lieutenant, over a
flask of wine, a story, and a pipe of tobacco.
[_Going off_, BISARRE _meets him_.
_Bis._ Who comes there? stand!
_Dur._ Heyday, now she's turned dragoon!
_Bis._ Lookye, sir, I'm told you intend to travel again.--I design to
wait on you as far as Italy.
_Dur._ Then I'll travel into Wales.
_Bis._ Wales! What country's that?
_Dur._ The land of mountains, child; where you're never out of the way,
'cause there's no such thing as a highroad.
_Bis._ Rather, always in a high road, because you travel all upon hills;
but be't as it will, I'll jog along with you.
_Dur._ But we intend to sail to the East Indies.
_Bis._ East, or West, 'tis all one to me; I'm tight and light, and the
fitter for sailing.
_Dur._ But suppose we take through Germany, and drink hard?
[Illustration: INCONSTANT
ORIANA--I CANNOT; FOR I MUST BE UP AND GO TO CHURCH