Alon. God-a-mercy, Lad, let’s about it then e’er we sleep, lest I change my Resolution before Morning. [Exeunt.
Enter Alonzo drest ridiculously, meeting Lovis, they laugh at each other.
Lov. Very Haunce all over, the Taylor has play’d his part, play but yours as well, and I’ll warrant you the Wench.
Alon. But prithee, why need I act the Fool thus, since Haunce was never seen here?
Lov. To make good the Character I always gave of him to my Father; but here he comes, pray be very rude, and very impertinent.
Alon. Lord, Lord, how shall I look thus damnably set out, and thus in love!
Enter Don Carlo.
Lov. This, Sir, is Monsieur Haunce, your Son that must be.