Doct. I humbly kiss your Hands, most learned Sir.
[Charmante goes out. Doctor waits on him to the Door, and returns: to him Scaramouch. All this while Harlequin was hid in the Hedges, peeping now and then, and when his Master went out he was left behind.
Scar. So, so, Don Charmante has played his Part most exquisitely; I’ll in and see how it works in his Pericranium. —Did you call, Sir?
Doct. Scaramouch, I have, for thy singular Wit and Honesty, always had a Tenderness for thee above that of a Master to a Servant.
Scar. I must confess it, Sir.
Doct. Thou hast Virtue and Merit that deserves much.
Scar. Oh Lord, Sir!
Doct. And I may make thee great;—all I require, is, that thou wilt double thy diligent Care of my Daughter and my Niece; for there are mighty things design’d for them, if we can keep ‘em from the sight of Man.
Scar. The sight of Man, Sir!
Doct. Ay, and the very Thoughts of Man.