Dor. O ho, is it she? Pray let's withdraw, and oblige her, Madam; she's ready to swoon at the insipid Sight of one of her own Sex.
Euph. You'll excuse us, Sir; we leave you to wiser Company.
[Exeunt Euph. and Dor.
Enter Hortensia.
Hort. The Deess, who from Atropos's Breast preserves the Names of Heroes and their Actions, proclaims your Fame throughout this mighty Orb, and——
Esop. [Aside.] Shield me, my Stars! What have you sent me here? For Pity's Sake, good Lady, be more humane: My Capacity is too heavy, to mount to your Style: If you wou'd have me know what you mean, please to come down to my Understanding.
Hort. I've something in my Nature soars too high
For vulgar Flight, I own;
But Esop's Sphere must needs be within Call;
Esop and I may sure converse together:
I know he's modest, but I likewise know
His Intellects are categorical.
Esop. Now, by my Faith, Lady, I don't know what Intellect is; and methinks, categorical sounds as if you call'd me Names. Pray, speak that you may be understood: Language was design'd for it; indeed it was.
Hort. Of vulgar Things in vulgar Phrase we talk;
But when of Esop we must speak,
The Theme's too lofty for an humble Style:
Esop is sure no common Character.
Esop. No, truly; I am something particular. Yet if I am not mistaken, what I have extraordinary about me, may be describ'd in very homely Language. Here was a young Gentlewoman but just now pencil'd me out to a Hair, I thought; and yet, I vow to God, the learned'st Word I heard her make use of, was Monster.