Doct. With all my Heart, and am glad he comes off so comically.
[Harlequin dances.
[A knocking at the Gate. Scar. goes and returns.
Scar. Sir, Sir, here’s the rare Philosopher who was here yesterday.
Doct. Give him Entrance, and all depart.
Enter Charmante.
Char. Blest be those Stars that first conducted me to so much Worth and Virtue; you are their Darling, Sir, for whom they wear their brightest Lustre. Your Fortune is establish’d, you are made, Sir.
Doct. Let me contain my Joy. [Keeping in an impatient Joy. —May I be worthy, Sir, to apprehend you?
Char. After long searching, watching, fasting, praying, and using all the virtuous means in Nature, whereby we solely do attain the highest Knowledge in Philosophy; it was resolv’d, by strong Intelligence—you were the happy Sire of that bright Nymph, that had infascinated, charm’d, and conquer’d the mighty Emperor Iredonozor, the Monarch of the Moon.
Doct. I am undone with Joy! ruin’d with Transport. [Aside. —Can it—can it, Sir,—be possible? [Stifling his Joy, which breaks out.