[To PALA.] Sir, my father, for whom I have a blind obedience, has commanded me to receive your passionate addresses; but you must also give me leave to avow, that I cannot merit them from so accomplished a cavalier.

Pala. I want many things, madam, to render me accomplished; and the first and greatest of them is your favour.

Mel. Let me die, Philotis, but this is extremely French; but yet Count Rhodophil—­a gentleman, sir, that understands the grand monde so well, who has haunted the best conversations, and who, in short, has voyaged, may pretend to the good graces of a lady.

Pala. [Aside.] Hey-day! Grand monde!  Conversation! voyaged! and good graces! I find my mistress is one of those that run mad in new French words.

Mel. I suppose, sir, you have made the tour of France; and, having seen all that’s fine there, will make a considerable reformation in the rudeness of our court:  For let me die, but an unfashioned, untravelled, mere Sicilian, is a bete; and has nothing in the world of an honnete homme.

Pala. I must confess, madam, that—­

Mel. And what new minuets have you brought over with you? their minuets are to a miracle! and our Sicilian jiggs are so dull and sad to them!

Pala. For minuets, madam—­

Mel. And what new plays are there in vogue?  And who danced best in the last grand ballet?  Come, sweet servant, you shall tell me all.

Pala. [aside.] Tell her all?  Why, she asks all, and will hear nothing.—­To answer in order, madam, to your demands—­

Mel. I am thinking what a happy couple we shall be!  For you shall keep up your correspondence abroad, and every thing that’s new writ, in France, and fine, I mean all that’s delicate, and bien tourne, we will have first.

Pala. But, madam, our fortune—­

Mel. I understand you, sir; you’ll leave that to me:  For the menage of a family, I know it better than any lady in Sicily.

Pala. Alas, madam, we—­

Mel. Then, we will never make visits together, nor see a play, but always apart; you shall be every day at the king’s levee, and I at the queen’s; and we will never meet, but in the drawing-room.

Phil. Madam, the new prince is just passed by the end of the walk.

Mel. The new prince, sayest thou?  Adieu, dear servant; I have not made my court to him these two long hours.  O, it is the sweetest prince! so obligeant, charmant, ravissant, that—­Well, I’ll make haste to kiss his hands, and then make half a score visits more, and be with you again in a twinkling. [Exit running, with PHIL.

Pala. [solus.] Now heaven, of thy mercy, bless me from this tongue! it may keep the field against a whole army of lawyers, and that in their own language, French gibberish.  It is true, in the day-time, it is tolerable, when a man has field room to run from it; but to be shut up in a bed with her, like two cocks in a pit, humanity cannot support it.  I must kiss all night in my own defence, and hold her down, like a boy at cuffs, and give her the rising blow every time she begins to speak.