velty is not so great, I assure you.

_Fal_. Go to, y'are wicked;
But I will have them in my Face.

_Lab_. With all my heart, Sir, but how?

_Fal_. I'll wear a patch or two there, and I'll
Warrant you for pretending as much as any man;
And who, you Fool, shall know the fallacy?

_Lab_. That, Sir, will all that know you, both in the
Court and Camp.

_Fal_. Mark me, _Labree_, once for all; if thou takest
Delight continually thus to put me in mind of
My want of Courage, I shall undoubtedly
Fall foul on thee, and give thee most fatal proofs
Of more than thou expectest.

_Lab_. Nay, Sir, I have done, and do believe 'tis only
I dare say you are a man of Prowess.

_Fal_. Leave thy simple fancies, and go about thy business.

_Lab_. I am gone; but hark, my Lord,
If I should say your Face were wounded,
The Ladies would fear you had lost your Beauty.

_Fal_. O, never trouble your head for that, _Aminta_
Is a Wit, and your Wits care not how ill-favour'd
Their Men be, the more ugly the better.

_Lab_. An't be so, you'll fit them to a hair.

_Fal_. Thou art a Coxcomb, to think a man of my
Quality needs the advantage of Handsomness:
A trifle as insignificant as Wit or Valour; poor
Nothings, which Men of Fortune ought to despise.

_Lab_. Why do you then keep such a stir, to gain
The reputation of this thing you so despise?

_Fal_. To please the peevish humour of a Woman,
Who in that point only is a Fool.

_Lab_. You had a Mistress once, if you have not
Forgotten her, who would have taken you with
All these faults.

_Fal_. There was so; but she was poor, that's the Devil,
I could have lov'd her else.
--But go thy ways; what dost thou muse on?

_Lab_. Faith, Sir, I am only fearful you will never
Pass with those Patches you speak of.

_Fal_. Thou never-to-be-reclaim'd Ass, shall I never
Bring thee to apprehend as thou ought'st? I tell thee,
I will pass and repass, where and how I please;
Know'st thou not the difference yet, between a Man
Of Money and Titles, and a Man of only Parts,
As they call them? poor Devils of no Mein nor Garb:
Well, 'tis a fine and frugal thing, this Honour,
It covers a multitude of Faults:
Even Ridicule in one of us is a-la-mode.
But I detain thee; go haste to _Aminta_.

[_Exeunt severally_.

SCENE II. Galatea's _Apartments_.

_Enter_ Galatea, Aminta, _and_ Olinda.

_Gal_. Will _Erminia_ come?

_Oli_. Madam, I thought she'd been alr