Re-enter Monsieur de Paris in the Spanish habit entire, only with a cravat, and followed by the little Blackamoor with a golilla[62] in his hand.
Don. Come, did not I tell you, you should have him? look you there, he has complied with me, and is a perfect Spaniard.
Mons. Ay! ay! I am ugly rogue enough now, sure, for my cousin. But 'tis your father's fault, cousin, that you han't the handsomest, best-dressed man in the nation; a man bien mis.
Don. Yet again at your French! and a cravat on still! voto á St. Jago! off, off, with it!
Mons. Nay, I will ever hereafter speak clownish good English, do but spare me my cravat.
Don. I am un positivo, look you.
Mons. Let me not put on that Spanish yoke, but spare me my cravat; for I love cravat furieusement.
Don. Again at your furieusements!
Mons. Indeed I have forgot myself: but have some mercy. [Kneels.
Don. Off, off, off with it, I say! Come, refuse the ornamento principal of the Spanish habit! [Takes him by the cravat, pulls it off, and the Black puts on the golilla.