ithee dress thy Eyes in all their Charms;
For this uncertainty disturbs me more,
Than if I knew _Clarina_ were a--Whore.

[Exeunt severally.

ACT II.

SCENE I. The Apartment of _Frederick_.

Enter _Frederick_ with a Letter, and _Galliard_.

_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.

Enter _Lorenzo_ drunk.

_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._