can sing a tune already. My lord, won't you go? Won't you? What!
not to see Saph? Pray, my lord, come see little Saph. I knew you
could not stay.


SCENE XII.


CYNTHIA alone.

CYNT. 'Tis not so hard to counterfeit joy in the depth of
affliction, as to dissemble mirth in company of fools. Why should I
call 'em fools? The world thinks better of 'em; for these have
quality and education, wit and fine conversation, are received and
admired by the world. If not, they like and admire themselves. And
why is not that true wisdom? for 'tis happiness: and for ought I
know, we have misapplied the name all this while, and mistaken the
thing: since


If happiness in self-content is placed,
The wise are wretched, and fools only bless'd.



ACT IV.--SCENE I.



MELLEFONT and CYNTHIA.