THE FALSE COUNT, OR, A New Way to play AN OLD GAME. As it is Acted at the Duke's Theatre.  
Written by Mrs. A. BEHN.  
LONDON, Printed by M. Flesher, for Jacob Tonson, at the Judge's-Head in Chancery-lane, near Fleetstreet. 1682.   

PROLOGUE  
Spoken by Mr. Smith.  

KNow all the whigs and Tories of the Pit,  
(Ye furious Guelves and Gibelines of Wit,  
Who for the Cause, and crimes of Forty one  
So furiously maintain the Quarrel on.)  
Our Author as you'll find it writ in story,  
Has hitherto been a most wicked Tory;  
But now to th' joy o' th' Brethren be it spoken,  
Our Sister's vain mistaking eyes are open;  
And wisely valluing her dear interest now,  
All powerful whigs, converted is to you.  
'Twas long she did maintain the Royal Cause,  
Argued, disputed, railed with great applause;  
Writ Madrigals and Dogerel on the times,  
And charged you all with your forefather's crimes;  
Nay confidently swore no plot was true,  
But that so slyly carried on by you.  
Raised horrid scandals on you, hellish stories,  
In Conventicles how you eat young Tories;  
As Jew did heretofore eat Christian suckling;  
And brought an Odium on your pious gutling:  
When this is all malice itself can say,  
You for the good old Cause devoutly eat and pray:  
Though this one Text were able to convert ye,  
Ye needy tribe of scribblers to the Party;  
Yet there are more advantages than these,  
For write, invent, and make what Plots you please,  
The Wicked Party keeps your Witnesses;  
Like frugal Cuckold-makers you beget  
Bats that, secured, by others fires shall sit.  
Your Conventicling miracles out do  
All that the Whore of Babylon e'er knew:  
By wondrous art you make Rogues honest men,  
And when you please transform 'em Rogues again.  
To day a Saint, if he but hang a Papist,  
Peach a true Protestant, your Saints turned Atheist:  
And dying Sacraments do less prevail,  
Than living ones though took in Lamb's-Wool-Ale.  
Who would not then be for a Common-weal,  
To have the Villain covered with his Zeal?  
●… Zeal, which for convenience can dispense  
With Plays, provided there's no wit nor sense;  
For Wit's profane, and jesuitical,  
And Plotting's Popery, and the Devil and all.  
We then have fitted you with one to day,  
'Tis writ as't were a recantation Play;  
Renouncing all that has pretence to witty,  
T' obleige the Reverend Brumighams' o' th' City:  
No smutty Scenes, no jests to move your Laughters,  
Nor Love that so debauches all your Daughters.  
But should the Toryes now, who will desert me  
Because they find no dry bobs on your Party,  
Resolve to hiss as late did Popish Crew,  
By Yea and Nay, she'll throw herself on you,  
The grand bequest of whigs, to whom she's true.  
Then let 'em rail and hiss and damn their fill,  
Your Verdict will be Ignoramus still.    

Actor's Names.  

Mr. 〈◊〉, Don Carlos, Governor of Cadez, young and rich, in love with Julia.  
Mr. 〈◊〉, Antonio, A Merchant, young and rich, Friend to Carlos, in love with Clara, promised to Isabel.  
Mr. Nokes, Francisco, Old and rich, Husband to Julia and Father to Isabel.  
Mr. Bright, Baltazer, Father to Julia and Clara.  
Mr. Freeman, S●…stian, Father to Antonio.  
Mr. Underhill Guzman, Gentleman to Carlos.  
Mr. Lee, Guiliom, A Chimney Sweeper; the False Count  
Two overgrown Pages to the False Count  
Petro, Cashier to Antonio.  
Captain, Of a Galley.  
2 Seamen, Lopez, Servant to Baltazer.  
Several, Disguised like Turks.  


Women.  
Mrs. Davis, Julia, Wife to Francisco; young and handsome, in love with Carlos.  
Mrs. P●…y, Clara, Sister to Julia, in love with Antonio.  
Mrs. Co●…, Isabel, Daughter to Francisco; proud, vain and foolish, despising all men under the degree of Quality, and falls in love with Guiliom.  
Mrs. Osborn, Jacinta, Woman to Julia.    
Dancers, Singers, etc.    

THE FALSE COUNT, OR, A New way to play AN OLD GAME.  
ACT I.  

SCENE I. The Street.  Enter Carlos, Antonio, and Guzman. Car. 
BY all that's good, I'm mad; stark raving mad, to  
have a Woman young, rich, beautiful,  
Just on the point of yielding to my Love,  
Snatched from my Arms by such a Beast as this;  
An Old ridiculous Buffoon, past Pleasure,  
Past Love, or any thing that tends that way;  
Ill-favoured, Ill-bread, and Ill-qualifyed,  
With more Diseases than a Horse past Service;  
And only blessed with Fortune and my Julia:  
For him, I say, this Miser, to obtain her,  
After my tedious nights and days of Love,  
My midnight Watchings, Quarrels, Wounds and Dangers;  
— My Person not unhansom too,  
By Heaven, 'twas Wondrous strange!  Anto. 
And old Francisco, without the expense of an hours Courtship, a Billet Doux, or scarce a Sight of her, could gain her in a day; and yet 'tis wonder, your Fortune and your Quality, should be refused by Don Baltazer, her Father.  Car. 
A Pox upon't, I went the wrong way to work, and courted the Daughter, but indeed my Father, the late Governor of Cadez, whose Estate and Honour I now enjoy, was then living; and, fearing he would not consent to my Passion, I endeavoured to keep it secret, though sacred Vows had passed between us two.  Anto. 
Did she not tell you of this Marriage with old Francisco?  Car. 
The night before, she did; but only by a Letter from her window dropped; which when by the help of a dark Lantern, I had read, I was struck dead with Grief.  [gives him the letter. Anto. reads.] 
Expect to morrow night to hear I'm dead, since the next Sun will guide me to a fatal Marriage with old Francisco. Your Julia.  Car. 
Judge, dear Antonio, my Surprise and Grief;  
A while I stood unmoved, thoughtless, and silent,  
But soon rage waked me to new Life again;  
But what I said and did, I leave to raging Lovers,  
Like disappointed me, to guests and judge;  
She heard— and only answered me in tears,  
Nor could I beg one tender word from her,  
She sight, and shut the window too, and vanished.  Ant. 
And she accordingly next day was married.  Car. 
She was,— and I have since endeavoured all the Arts and Ways I can, to Cuckold him; 'tis now two months since the Wedding, and I hear he keeps her as close as a Relict, jealous as Age and Impotence can make him.— She hitherto has been absent at Sivil, but Expectation of her Daughter-in-law's Wedding with you has brought 'em hither,— and, I ask your Pardon, Antonio, for rallying your Father-in-law that shall be, old Francisco.  Anto. 
I hope you are mistaken, Sir.  Car. 
How, Are not you to marry his Daughter Isabel?  Anto. 
Not, if I can help it, Sir,— the Honour you have done me in your friendship to me, a Person so much above me in Title and Birth, makes me think it my Duty to conceal no part of my Heart to you,— Know then this Isabel, daughter to old Francisco, and your Cuckold that shall be, I hope, is, though fair most ridiculously proud, vain and fantastical; as all of her Birth and Education, grown Rich, are;  Car. 
Prithee, What was her Birth?  Anto. 
Why, her Father, old Francisco, was in his youth an English Cordwinder, that is to say, a Shoemaker, Which he improved in time to a Merchant, and, the Devil and his Knavery helping him to a considerable Estate, he set up for Gentleman; and being naturally a stingey, hide bound Rascal, and in the Humour of jealousy even outdoing the most rigid of us Spaniards, he came over into Spain, to settle with his whole Family, where, his Wife dying, to heighten the vice, marries this young Julia, your Mistress, Sir;— and now this Daughter of his having wholly forgot her original Dunghill, sets up for a Vicountess at least, though her father has designed me the Blessing; but I have fixed my Heart and Eyes elsewhere, Clara, the young Sister of your Mistress, Sir, commands my Liberty.  Car. 
Clara, I've seen her, she has Youth and Beauty capable to make a conquest any where,— but, Does she know your Love?  Anto. 
She does; and makes me think my Love returned.  Car. 
Then know, Antonio, I must be your Rival.  Anto. 
How, Sir!  Car. 
You said but now you were my Friend, Antonio,  
If true, you must assist in my design.  Anto. 
I listen, Sir, impatiently.  Car. 
Then thus; Before I knew she was your Mistress, I had resolved upon Addresses to her, in order to't, have treated with her Father about a Marriage.  Anto. 
How! and would the false, forsworn, receive your Vows!  Car. 
No; but with Tears implores her Father daily, when e'er he speaks to her about my Passion; nor can I undeceive her, for indeed I have but Feigned a Love, (she living in the same house with Julia whilst here at Cadez) to get an opportunity with that dear, charming Creature; for, coming as a Brother, sure they'll admit me kindly; nor will Francisco, who has heard of what has passed 'twixt me and Julia, suspect me any more.  Anto. 
I knew I had a Rival, Sir, which Clara loved not; but ne'er could get it from her who he was, for fear of mischief— I have often the Liberty to see her, under the name and pretence of Isabella's Lover.  Car. 
And I Visit her only to get a sight of Julia, which hitherto has been impossible, though I have oft endeavoured it— I beg you'll not be jealous, for this, by Heaven, is only my Design.  Anto. 
I'll trust my Life, my Honour and my Mistress, in so good hands at any time.  Car. 
You oblige me; but though I find your Clara, cold and cruel, Isabel would invite me to her Love, And makes so many kind advances to me.—  Anto. 
So would she for your Title were you deformed, and had no shape of man about you; but me, because a little Citizen and Merchant— she so reviles, Calling me base Mechanic, Saucy Fellow; and wonders where I got the Impudence to speak of Love to her,— in fine I am resolved to be revenged on all her Pride and Scorn; by Heaven, I will invent some dire Revenge;— I'm bent upon't, and will about it instantly.  Car. 
— and would you do it home and handsomely— and have a good occasion of being disengaged from her, and make herself the Instrument?  Anto. 
Ay, such a Plot were worth the Prosecution.  Car. 
And such a one I have in my head, Guzman, my servant, knows a Fellow here in Cadez, whom for his pleasant humour I have oft observed, as I have passed the streets, but too mean to be conversed with, by almost any humane thing, by Trade, a Chimney Sweeper.  Anto. 
On, Sir, I beseech you.  Car. 
This Fellow's of a quick Wit and good Apprehension, though possibly he cannot act the Don so well, yet that which makes up the best part of our young Gallants, now a days, he shall not want; that is, good clothes, Money, and an Equipage,— and a little Instruction will serve turn.  Anto. 
I'm ravished with the Fancy;— let me see— he shall be an English Lord, or a French Count  Car. 
Either, we'll furnish him with Bills on Signior Don Francisco,— men and baggage, and the business is done— he shall make Love to her.  Anto. 
Most Excellent.  Car. 
Guzman, have you not observed this Fellow I am speaking off?  Guz. 
Observed him, Sir; I know him particulary, I'll fetch him to you now, Sir; he always stands for new employment with the rest of his Gang under Saint Jago's Church-wall.  Car. 
Bring him anon to my Lodgings, where we'll prepare him for the Adventure.  Anto. 
And if the Proud Isabel bite not at so gay a Bait, I'll be bound to marry her.  Car. 
And if she do not, possibly that may be your Fate— but, in return, you must let Clara know the Design I have, and, undeceiving her opinion of my Love, make her of our Party.  Anto. 
Trust my Friendship, Sir, and Management, I'll to her instantly, that is, make a Visit to Isabel, and get an opportunity to speak with Clara.  Car. 
And I must write a Letter to Julia, to undeceive her Fears too, could I but get it to her.  Guz. 
For that, let me alone—  [Exeunt severally bowing.  

SCENE II. A Chamber.  Enter Julia and Jacinta. Jac. 
Lord, Madam, you are as melancholy as a sick Parrot.  Juli. 
And can you blame me, Jacinta, have I not many Reasons to be sad; sirst, have I not lost the only man on earth in Don Carlos, that I could love? and worse than that, am married to a Thing, fit only for his Tomb; a Brute, who wanting sense to Value me, treats me more like a Prisoner than a Wife,— and his Pretence is, because I should not see, nor hear from Don Carlos.  Jac. 
Would I were in your room, Madam, I'd cut him out work enough I'd warrant him; and if he durst impose on me, i'faith I'd transform both his Shape and his manners; in short, I'd try what Womanhood could do. And indeed, the revenge would be so pleasant, I would not be without a jealous Husband for all the world, and really, Madam, Don Carlos is so sweet a Gentleman.  Jul. 
Ay, but the Sin, Jacinta!  Jac. 
A' my Conscience Heaven would forgive it, for this match of yours, with old Francisco, was never made there.  Jul. 
Then if I would, alas what opportunities have I, for I confess since his first Vows made him mine.—  Jac. 
— right— that lying with old Francisco is flat Adultery.  Jul. 
I might, with some Excuse, give myself away to Carlos— but oh, he's false, he takes unjustly all the Vows he paid me, And gives 'em to my Sister Clara now.  Jac. 
Indeed, that's something uncivil, Madam, if it be true.  Jul. 
True! my Father has with joy consented to it, and he has leave, to visit her; and can I Live to see't? No, Mischief will ensue, my Love's too high, too Nicely true to brook Affronts like that.  Jac. 
Yet you sirst broke with him.  Jul. 
Not I, be witness heaven with what reluctancy I forced my breaking heart; and can I see, that charming Body in my Sister's Arms! that Mouth that has so oft sworn love to me, kissed by another's Lips! no, Jacinta, that night that gives him to another Woman, shall see him dead between the Charmers Arms. My life I hate, and when I live no more for Carlos, I'll cease to be at all, it is resolved.  Jac. 
Faith, Madam, I hope to live to see a more Comical end of your Amours— but see where your Amiable Spouse comes with Don Baltazer your Father!  Enter Francisco and Baltazer. Fran. 
So— you two are damnable Close together, 'tis for no goodness I'll warrant, you have your trade betimes.  Jac. 
Meaning me, Sir?  Fran. 
Yes you, one of my Wives evil Counsellors,— go, get you up both to your respective Chambers, go—  [Ex. both. Bal. 
Barring your Complyments, good Son, give me leave to speak.  Fran. 
Shaw, I know as well as yourself what you would say now; you would assure me I am Sole Master of your house, and may command; that you are heartily glad to see me at Cadez, and that you desire I would resolve upon a weeks stay, or so; that you'll spare nothing for my entertainment, why I know all this, and therefore pray take my word, good Father in-Law, without any more ado.  Bal. 
Well Sir, pray answer me one Question, What drew you to Cadez?  Fran. 
Why, I'll tell you; in the first place, a Pox of all Lovers, I say; for my Daughter Isabel is to be married, as you know, to Antonio, a young rich merchant of this Town; in the second place, my Wife, with a Vengeance, must be gading to visit you and her sister, whom we heard was also to be married to the young Governor Don Carlos; 'tis shrewdly against my will, heaven knows, for my wits are in an uproar already about this business— your Gallant's, Father, your young Gallant's,— I wish my Wife were secure at home again.  Bal. 
Pray why so?  Fran. 
Alas, I see the Trick, Sir, a mere Trick put upon a man, a married man, and a married man to a handsome young woman,— you apprehend me.  Bal. 
Not I, Sir.  Fran. 
Not, you Sir; why look ye; your young Governor who now is, made most desperate love to her who is now my Wife, d'ye mind me?— but you, being a man of an exact Judgement, to her great grief, gave her to me, who best deserved her, both for my civil Behaviour, and Comly Personage, d'ye understand me? but now this Carlos, by his Father's death being made Governor, d'ye see? is to marry your other Daughter Clara, and to exasperate me, would never let me be at quiet till he had got both of us hither to Cadez, to Grace his Wedding; a Pox of his Invitation, was I so civil to invite him to mine?  Bal. 
If this be your Affliction, you may avoid it.  Fran. 
No, no, I'll try to source Nature a little, and be Civil, or so, but as soon as the Ceremonies over, I'll steal out of Town, whip a way, presto, i'faith.  Bal. 
But sh'oud you do so rude a thing to your new Brother, your Wife would think you were jealous of her. No, dissemble that Fault, I beseech you, 'twill make you odious to her and all the world, when 'tis needless; 'tis natural for women to hate what they fear.  Fran. 
Say you so, than I will hide it as much as I can in words, I can dissemble too upon occasion.  Bal. 
Let her remain awhile amongst us.  Fran. 
The Devil a bit she shall, good Father mine, no, no, I have more years than you, Sir Father, and understand what women are, especially when married to ancient men, and have the Conversation of young men— whose Eyes like Basilisks destroy Modesty with looking on 'em; the very thought on't has raised a Bump in my forehead already.  Bal. 
I am sorry you should suspect my Daughter's Virtue.  Fran. 
May be you are, Sir,— but youth you know— opportunity— occasion— or so— there are Winks, and Nods, and Signs, and Twires— and— well in short I am satisfied, and they that are not may go whistle, and so I'll to my Wife, whom I have left too long alone, evil thoughts will grow upon her— Wife, Love— Duckling—  [Calls her. Enter Julia and Jacinta. Bal. 
Would I had never married her to this Sot.  Jul. 
Your pleasure, Sir.  Fran. 
Only to see thee, Love.  Jul. 
I have a Suit to you.  Fran. 
What is't, my Chicken.  Jul. 
I Would go make a Visit to my Aunt, my sister Clara's there, and I'll go setch her home.  Fran. 
Hum— perhaps the Governor's there too?  Jul. 
What if he be? we aught to make him a Visit too who so kindly sent for us to Cadez.  Fran. 
How! Make a Visit to the Governor? What have I to do with the Governor, or what have you to do with the Governor? you are no Soldier, Love! as for a Visit to your Aunt there's some reason in't, but for the Governor, think no more upon him, I say no more.  Jul. 
Since he's to marry my Sister, why should you refuse him that Civility.  Fran. 
Your Sister, so much the worse.  Jul. 
So much the worse?  Fran. 
ay, so much the worse, I tell you, for, mark me, you have been Lovers lately; and old stories may arise that are not yet forgotten; and having under the Cloak of a Husband both Sisters at command, one for a Wife, t'other for a Mistress, hoyte toyte, there will be mad work i'faith; What a Mixture of Brother by the Father's side, and Uncle by the Mother's side there will be; Aunt by the Mother's side, and Sister by the father's side; a man may sinned as good kindred amongst a kennel of Beagles.— No, no, no Visits to the Governor, I beseech you, fair Madam.  Bal. 
So, you are at your jealousy again.  Fran. 
Come, come, I love plain dealing; besides, when she named the Governor, Flesh and Blood could not contain.  Jul. 
I spoke in reference to his Quality.  Fran. 
A Pox of your Civility; I tell you, I scorn my Wife should be Civil. Why, what a coil's here about a Governor? I'll stand to't, a man had better have a Mule to his Wife than a Woman, and 'twere easilyer governed.  Bal. 
But, hear reason, Son.  Fran. 
What, from a Woman, and a Wife? Lord, Lord, where are your Wits, good Father-i'-law? Why, what, a Devil, shall I be made ridiculous, a Coxcomb, Cuckold, to show my Wife? No, no, there's no Necessity of your Civility, Mistress; Leave that to me who understand the due punctilio's of it.  Bal. 
Harkey Son, harkey!  Fran. 
Father mine, every man to his business, I say, therefore say no more of this; For I'll give my Mother's Soul to the Devil, when any Wife of mine ever makes a Visit to the Governor; and there's an end on't. Was ever so horrid a Plot Contrived against her own Lawful Husband? Visit the Governor, with a Pox.  Bal, 
'Tis an honour due to all men of his Rank.  Fran. 
I care not for that, my opinion is, my Wife's my slave, and let him keep his Rank to himself.  Enter Guzman. Fran. gets his Wife behind him, and fences her with his Cloak. Guz. 
He's here, and with his Wife; How shall I do to deliver my Letter to her?— Sir, by the order of my Master, Don Carlos, the Governor, I am commanded to come hither, to the end that, going from hence, and returning to my Master, I may be able to inform him—  Fran. 
— That I am in health,— very well, I was afraid he would have been harping upon my Wife in the first place— the Devil take her, she looks for't.  [Makes signs to have her gone. Guz. 
Farther, Sir, he kisses your hand, with a more than ordinary Friendship.  Fran. 
A Pox of his complyments,—  [Aside. Guz. 
But he charged me, Sir, most passionately to present his Service to your Lady.  Fran. 
Yes, yes; I thought as much.  Guz. 
— In a more particular manner.  Fran. 
Friend, my Wife, or Lady, has no need of his service in a more particular manner, and so you may return it.  Jac. 
Indeed, but she has great need of his service in a very particular manner.  Guz. 
Sir, I meant no hurt, but 'tis all ways the fashion of your true bred Courtier, to be more Ceremonious in his Civilities to Ladies than Men;— and he desires to know how she does.  Fran. 
How strong this Carlos smells of the Devil— friend, tell your Master she's very well, but since she was Married she has forgot her Gentile Civility and good manners, and never returns any Compliments to men.  Guz. 
— How shall I get it to her?— Sir, the Governor hopes he shall havethe Honour of entertaining you both at his house. He's impatient of your coming, and waits at home on purpose.  Fran. 
Friend, let your Master know we are here in very good quarters already, and he does us both too much Honour; and that if we have notice of the Wedding-day; and I have nothing else to do, we'll Certainly wait on him, and the next morning we intent to take our leaves, which I send him word of beforehand to prevent surprise.  Guz. 
But Sir,—  Aproching him he puts his Wife further. Fran. 
Go, Sir, and deliver your message.  Guz. 
But I have order, Sir,—  Fran. 
There's no such thing in this world.  Guz. 
I'm resolved to Tease him, if I can do nothing else, in revenge;— But, Sir, he most earnestly desires to entertain your fair Lady in his own house,  Fran. 
Yes, yes; I know he does; But I'll give him to the Devil first.— Troth, Sir, this Cadez Air does not agree with my fair Lady, she has ventured out but once, and has got an Ague already.  Guz. 
Agues, Sir, are kind diseases, they allow of Truces and Cessations.  Fran. 
No, no; She has no Cessation friend, her Ague takes her night and day, it shakes her most unmercyfully, and it shall shake her till the Wedding-day.  Guz. 
Were this Fellow to be tried by a Jury of women, I would not be in's Coat to lie with his Lady.— What shall I do to deliver this Letter,— Well Sir since I see you are so averse to what the Governor desires, I'll return— but, Sir, I must tell you, as a friend, a Secret; that to a man of your temper may concern you;— Sir,— he's— resolved when he Comes next to Visit his Mistress, to make another Visit to your Apartment, to your Lady too.  Goes to Whisper him, and giveth Julia the Letter over his Shoulder. Fran. 
Is he so, pray tell him he need not take that pains; there's no occasion for't; besides 'twill be but in vain; for the Doctors have prescribed her Silence and Lonelyness,— 'tis good against the Fit; How this damned Fellow of a Rival torments me; Honest Friend, adieu.  Guz. 
Now is this Fellow so afraid of being made a Cuckold that he fears his own shadow, and dares not go into his Wive's Chamber if the Son do but shine into the room.—  [Ex Guz. Fran. 
So, your Mercury's gone; Lord, how, simply you look now, as if you knew nothing of the matter!  Jul. 
Matter, what matter, I heard the Civil Message the Governor sent, and the uncivil answer you returned back.  Fran. 
Very good; Did that grieve your heart, alas what pity 'twas I carried you not in my hand, presented you to him myself, and begged him to favour me so much to do my office a little for me, or the like; hah.—  Jul. 
And there's need enough, and the truth were known.  Jac. 
Well said, Madam.  Fran. 
Peace thou wicked Limb of Satan— but for you, Gentle Woman, since you are so termagant, that your own Natural Husband cannot please you; who though I say it am as quiet a Bed-fellow, and sleep as sweetly, for one of my years, as any in Spain— I'll keep you to hard meat i'faith.  Jul. 
I find no fault with your Sleeping, 'tis the best quality you have a-Bed.  Fran. 
Why, so then, is the Devil in an unmercyfull woman? Come come, 'tis a good Tenant that pays once a quarter.  Jac. 
Of an hour do ye mean Sir.—  Fran. 
Peace, I say,— thou damnable Tormentor, this is the Doctrine you preach to your Mistress, but you shall do't in private, for I am resolved to lock ye both up, and carry the keys in my Pocket.  Jul. 
Well, I'm a wicked Creature to tease thee so, Dear; but I'll do what thou wilt; Come, come, be friends, I Vow, I care not for the Governor, not I, no more than I do for my— own soul.  Fran. 
Why so, this is something; Come, come your way's in,— who have we here a man, ad's my life away, away.  Jul. 
Yes, up to my Chamber, to write an answer to this dear Letter.  [Ex Julia [Enter Isabel. Fran. 
No, 'tis not a man, but my daughter Isabel.  Jac. 
Now will I stay, and set her on to tease the Dotard, would I could tease him to death, that my Mistiess might be rid of him.  Fran. 
How now, what makes you look so Scurvily to day? Sure the Devil rides once a day through a woman, that she may be sure to be inspired with some Ill qualities— what would you have now?  Isa. 
Something.  Fran. 
Something; what thing; have I not provided you a Husband whom you are to marry within a day or too?  Isa. 
There's a Husband indeed, pray keep him to yourself, if you please; I'll marry none of him, I'll see him hanged first.  Fran. 
Hay-day;— what is he not young and handsome enough forsooth?  Isa. 
Young and handsome; is there no more than that goes to the making up of a Husband?— Yes, there's Quality.  Fran. 
Quality;— Why, is he not one of the richest Merchants of his standing in all Cadez?  Isa. 
Merchant, a pretty Character, a Woman of my Beauty, and 5. Thousand pound, marry a Merchant— a little, petty, dirtyheeld Merchant; faugh I'd rather live a Maid all days of my life, or be sent to a Nunnery, and that's Plague enough I'm sure.  Jac. 
Have a care of a Nunnery, lest he take you at your word.  Isa. 
I would not for the World, no, Jacinta, when ever thou seest me in Holy orders, the World will be at an end.  Fran. 
Merchant, why, What Husband do you expect!  Isa. 
A Cavalier at least, if not a Nobleman.  Fran. 
A Noble man, marry come-up; your Father, Huswife, meaning myself, was a Leather-seller at first, till, growing rich, I set up for a Merchant, and left that Mechanic trade; and since turned Gentleman; and heaven blessed my endeavours so as I have an estate for a Spanish Grandee; and, Are you so proud, forsooth, that a Merchant wont down with you, but you must be gaping after a Cap and Feather, a silver Sword with a more dreadful Ribon at the hilt? Come, come, I fear me, Huswife, you are one that pusss her up with pride thus;— but lay, thy hand upon thy Conscience now.—  [To Jacinta. Jac. 
Who, I Sir; No no, Sir, I am for Marrying her out of hand to any reasonable Husband, except a Merchant; for Maids will Long, and that's Probatum est against the pervailing Distemper of Longing; Hitherto I dare answer for her, but Batteries will be made, and I dare not be always responsable for frail Mortality.  Fran. 
Well, I have provided her one that I like, but if she be so squeamish, let her fast, with a Murrain to her.  Isa. 
Dear Father.  Fran. 
Dear me no Deer: Would your old Mother were alive, she would ha' Strapt your justicore, for puling after Cavaliers and Noble men, i'faith, that would she; A Citizen's Daughter and would be a Madonna, in good time.  Isa. 
Why, Father; the Gentry and Nobility now adays frequently marry Citizen's Daughters.  Fran. 
Come, come, Mistress, I got by the City, and I love and honour the City; I confess 'tis the fashion now adays, if a Citizen get but a little money, one goes to building houses, and brick walls; another must buy an Office for his Son; a third hoysts up his Daughter's Topsail, and flaunts it a way, much above her Breeding; and these things make so many break, and Cause the decay of Trading; but I'm for the honest Dutch way of breeding their Children, according to their Father's Calling.  Isa. 
That's very hard, because you are a Laborious, Ill-bread Trades-man, I must be bound to be a mean Citizen's Wife.  Fran. 
Why, what are you better than I, forsooth, that you must be a Lady, and have your Petticoats laced four Stories high; wear your false Towers, and Cool yourself with your Spanish Fan? Come, come, Baggage, wear me your best clothes a Sundays, and brush 'em up a Monday Mornings, and follow your needle all the week after, that was your good old Mother's way, and your Grand-mother's before her; and as for the Husband, take no care about it, I have designed it, Antonio, and Antonio you are like to wed, or beat the hoof, Gentle woman, or turn poor Clare, and die a Begging-Nun, and there's an end on't— see where he comes— I'll leave you to ponder upon the business.  [Ex. Francisco. Enter Antonio. Isabella weeps. Anto. 
what, in Tears, Isabel, what is't can force that tribute from your Eyes?  Isa. 
A Trifle, hardly worth the nam●…ing, yourself—  Anto. 
Do I, pray, for what sin of mine must your fair Eyes be punished?  Isa. 
For the sin of your Odious Addresses to me, I have told you my mind often enough, methinks your Equals should be sitter for you, and suit more with your Plebeian Humour.  Anto. 
My Equals, 'Tis True, you're fair, but if there be any inequality in our births, the advantage is on my side.  Isa. 
Saucy Impertinent, you show your City breeding, you understand what's due to Ladies, you understand your Pen and Ink how to count your dirty money, trudg to and fro chasfering of base commodities, and cuzening those you deal with, till you sweat and stink again like an o'er heated Cook; faugh, I smell him hither.  Anto. 
I must confess I'm not perfumed as you are, to stifle Stinks you commonly have by Nature; but I have wholesome, cleanly Linen on; and for my Habit, wore I but a Sword, I see no difference between your Don and me, only, perhaps, he knows less how to use it.  Isa. 
Ah, Name not a Don, the very sound from the mouth of a little Cit is disagreeable— Bargain and Sale, Bills, Money, Traffic, Trade, are words become you better.  Jac. 
Well-said, use him scurvily, that Mrs. Clara may have him.  [Aside. Anto. 
The best of those you think I should not name, dare hardly tell me this.  Isa. 
Good Lord, you think yourself a very fine Fellow now, and finical yourself up to be thought so, but there's as much difference between a Citizen and a true bred Cavalier.—  Anto. 
As between you and a true bred Woman of Honour.  Isa. 
Oh, Sir, you rail, and you may, long enough, before you rail me out of my Opinion, whilst there are Dons with Coaches and fine Lackeys, and I have Youth and Beauty, with a Fortune able to merit one, so farewell Cit  [Ex. Isabel. Anto. 
Farewell, proud Fool.  Jac. 
Sir, be this evening at the door, Dona Clara has something to say to you.  Anto. 
Bless thee for this Tidings, dear Jacinta.  [Ex. Jacinta. 
— I find let man be Brave, or good, or wise,  
His Virtue gains no Smiels from womens' Eyes.  
'tis the gay Fool alone that takes the Heart,  
Foppery and Finery, still guide the Dart.  [Ex. Antonio.   

ACT II.  

SCENE I. A Chamber.  Enter Jacinta with a Light, and Julia. Jac. 
WELL, Madam, have you writ to Don Carlos?  Jul. 
No, nor is it possible I should, this Devil haunts me so from room to room, Like my evil Genius to prevent that good; oh, for an opportunity of one kind Minute, to return Acknowledgements for this kind Letter he has sent me.  Jac. 
I'm glad you find me a Sibyl; Madam, I ever proficyed a happier end of that Amour than your ill fortune has hitherto promised,— but what said the Lovely Cavalier?  Jul. 
All that a man inspired with Love could say, All that was soft and Charming.  Jac. 
Nay, I believe his Art.  Jul. 
Judge then what my Heart Feels, who, like a fire but lightly covered o'er with the cold Ashes of Despair, with the least blast, breaks out into a flame; I burn, I burn, Jacinta, and only Charming Carlos can allay my Pain— but how, Ay there's the question?  Jac. 
Some way I will contrive to speak with him, for he has lost his old wont if he traverse not the street where you live, but see Dona Clara.—  [Enter Clara. Jul. 
Ha, my Sister, whom yet my jealous heart can scarce be reconciled to; so deeply was my fear of Rivalship fixed there,— so sad, my Sister, and so near the happy day with Carlos?  Cla. 
'Tis pity she that thinks it so, should want him; the Blessing's thrown away on me, but we are both unhappy to be matched to those we cannot love; Carlos, though young, gay, handsome, witty, rich; I hate as much as you the old Francisco; for since I cannot Marry my Antonio, both Youth and Beauty are but lost on me, And Age decrepit would be equal torment.  Jul. 
Would Carlos knew your heart, sure he'd decline, for he has too much Honour, to compel a Maid to yield that loves him not.  Cla. 
'Tis true, he is above me every way, and the Honour my Father thinks to do our Family by this Match, makes him resolve upon 't; but I have given my Vows to young Antonio.  Jul. 
And young Antonio you are like to have, for any thing that Carlos cares; for know, to thy eternal joy, my Clara, he has but feigned to thee, as much as thy Antonio to Isabel.  Cla. 
But are you sure of this?  Jul. 
Most certain, this Night if you can let Antonio see you, he'll tell you all the Cheat, and beg your Pardon.  Cla. 
Which he will soon obtain, and in return, what Service I can render him, in your behalf, he shall not want.  Jul. 
Antonio will engage you they are friends.  Cla. 
You amaze me.  Jac. 
I have appointed him this night to wait, and, if possible, I would get him a Minute's time with you.  Cla, 
Dear Jacinta, thou art the kindest Maid.—  Jac. 
Hang't, why should we young Women pine and Languish for what our own Natural invention may procure us; let us three lay our heads together, and if Machavil, with all his Politics, can out-witt us, 'tis pity but we all lead Apes in Hell, and died without the Jewish blessing of consolation.  Jul. 
No more, here comes the Dragon.—  Enter Francisco. Fran. 
So; together Consulting and Contriving.—  Jac. 
What, are you jealous of the Petticoat?  Fran. 
Petticoat, Come, come, Mistress Pert, I have known as Much danger hid under a Petticoat, as a Pair of Breeches. I have heard of two Women that Married each other— oh abominable, as if there were so Prodigious a Scarcity of Christian Man's Flesh.  Jac. 
No, the market's well enough stored, thanks be praised, might every woman be afforded a reasonable Allowance.  Fran. 
Peace, I say, thou Imp of Lucifer; would thou hadst thy Bellyful, that I might be fairly rid of thee— go get you up to your Chamber, and, d'ye hear, stir not from thence, on pain of our severe displeasure, for I am sent for in all haste to signior Don Sebastian's, 'tis but hard by, I shall soon return;— what are you here—  Enter Isabel. 
I have a high commendations of your fine behaviour, Gentlewoman, to Antonio; his Father has sent for me, and I shall know all anon, this shall but hasten your Wedding, Huswife, I tell you that, and so Farewell to you,—  [Ex. Isabel Crying. Cla. 
Say you so, then 'tis time for me to look about me.  Jul. 
But will you go out so late Love! indeed, some hurt will come to thee.  Fran. 
No, look ye, I go Armed  Shows his Girdle round with Pistols. 
Go get you to your Chambers.  [He goes out, they go in. SCENE changes to the Street. Enter Carlos, Antonio. Car. 
I wonder where this man of mine should be, whom I sent this evening with my letter to Julia, what art thou?  Enter Guzman, runs against Carlos. Guz. 
My Lord, 'tis I, your trusty Trojan, Guzman,— what makes you here, Sir, so near the door of your Mistress?  Car. 
To wait my doom; what Tidings hast thou Guzman!  Guz. 
Why, Sir, I went as you directed me, to Don Baltazer's.  Car. 
And didst thou deliver it?  Guz. 
And the first thing I met with was old Francisco.  Car. 
So.  Guz. 
To whom I civility addressed myself— told him, you presen t your Service to him,— sent to know how his Lady and he did. Which word Lady I no sooner named, but I thought he would have saluted me with a Cudgel,— in sine, observing her behind him, whom he sheltered all he could with his Cloak, I, taking an occa sion to whisper him, gave it her over his shoulder, whilst she returned some smiles and looks of joy,— but for an answer, 'twas impossible to get the least sign of one.  Car. 
No matter, that joy was evident, she wished me one, and by the first opportunity my diligent waiting will be recompensed; but, where hast thou been all this while?  Guz. 
Finding out the Chimney-sweeper, you spoke of Sir, and whom you ordered me to bring this Evening.  Car. 
And hast thou found him?  Guz. 
He's here, at the corner of the Street, I'll call him.  [Ex. Guz. Car. 
I have, Antonio, besides your particular Revenge, one of my own to Act by this deceit, since all my Industry to see the charming Julia has hitherto been vain, I have resolved upon a new project, if this False Count pass upon 'em, as I doubt not but he will, and that he gets admittance into the House, I'll pass for one of his Domestics.  Enter Guzman and Guilion. Page holding his Lantern to his face. Guz. 
Here's the fellow, Sir.  Anto. 
Fellow, he may be the Devil's fellow by his countenance.  Car. 
Come nearer Friend; dost think thou canst manage a Plot well?  Guil. 
As any man in Cadez, Sir, with good instructions.  Car. 
That thou shalt have, thou art apprehensive.  Guil. 
So, so, I have a pretty memory for mischief.  Anto. 
Hast thou Assurance and Courage?  Guil. 
To kill the honestest man in Spain, if I be well paid.  Car. 
That thou shalt be.  Guil. 
I ll do't, say no more, I'll do't.  Car. 
But canst thou swear stoutly, & lie handsomely?  Guil. 
Prettily, by Nature Sir, but with good instructions I shall improve; I thank Heaven I have Dossety, or so.  Car. 
Thou want'st not confidence.  Guil. 
No, nor impudence neither; how should a man live in this wicked world without that Talon.  Anto. 
Then know our Design is only Comical, though if you manage not matters well, it may prove Tragical to you; in fine dost think thou canst personate a Lord?  Guil. 
A Lord, marry that's a hard question, but what sort of a Lord?  Car. 
Why any Lord.  Guil. 
That I cannot do, but I can do some sort of a Lord, as some Lords are wiser than othersome; there is your witty Lord,— him I defy; your wise Lord, that is to say, your knavish Lord, him I renounce; then there's your politic Lord, him I would have hanged;— then there 's your foolish Lord, let him follow the Politician; then there's your Brisk, Pert, Noysey Lord, and such a small insignificant Fiend I care not if I am possessed with; I shall deal well enough with a Devil of his capacity.  Car. 
Very well, then there needs no more but that you go along with my man to my house, my authority shall secure you from all the injuries that shall accrue from a discovery, but I hope none will happen: Equipage, clothes and money we'll furnish you with,— go home with him and dress, and practise the Don, till we come, who will give you ample instructions what to do.  Guil. 
And if I do not fit you with a Don better than Don De'll, Phobos, or Don Quixote, let me be hanged up for the Sign of the Black Boy on my own Poles at a Spanish Inn door.  Anto. 
We'll be with you presently.  Guil. 
And if you find me not en Cavalier, say clothes, Garniture, Points and Feathers have lost their Power of making one.  [Ex. Guz. and Page and Guil. Enter, opening the Door, Jacinta. Car. 
Ha, the door opens, and surely 'tis a Woman that advances, dear Antonio, wait a little farther;— who's there?  Jac. 
Ha, if it should be old Francisco now.  Car. 
Let it be who it will, I'll tell my name, it cannot injure either;— I'm Carlos, who are you?  Jac. 
A thing that looks for him you name— Jacinta;— are you alone?  Car. 
Never since Julia did possess my heart; what news my dearest messenger of Love? what may I hope?—  Enter Julia. Jul. 
All that the kindest Mistress can bestow,  
If Carlos loves, and still will keep his Vows.  Car. 
Julia my Life, my Soul, what happy Stars  
Conspired to give me this dear lucky minute?  Jul. 
Those that conducted old Francisco out,  
And will too soon return him back again;  
I dare not stay to hear thy love or chiding,  
Both which have power to charm, since both proceed  
From a kind heart, that's mine.  Car. 
Oh, take not this dear Body from my Arms,  
For if you do, my Soul will follow it.  Jul. 
What wouldst thou have me do?  Car. 
Be wondrous kind, be lavish of thy Heart,  
Be generous in thy Love, and give me all.  Jul. 
Oh Heavens! what mean you? I shall die with fear.  Car. 
Fear, let coward Lovers fear, who love by halves,  
We that entirely Love are bold in passion,  
Like Soldier's fired with glory dread no danger.  Jul. 
But should we be unthrifty in our Loves,  
And for one moment's joy give all away,  
And be hereafter damned to pine at distance?  Car. 
Mistaken Miser, Love like Money put  
Into good hands increases every day,  
Still as you trust me, still the Sum amounts,  
Put me not off with promise of to morrow,  
To morrow will take care for new delights,  
Why should that rob us of a present one?  Jul. 
Ah Carlos!  
How sondly do I listen to thy words,  
And fain would chide, and fain would boast my Virtue,  
But mightier Love laughs at those poor delays;  
And I should doubtless give you all your Julia,  
Did not my fear prevent my kinder business;  
— And should Francisco come and find me absent,  
Or take thee with me, we were lost, my Carlos.  Car. 
When then, my Julia shall we meet again?  Jul. 
You Spaniards are a jealous Nation, But in this English Spaniard old Francisco, That mad passion's doubled; wholly deprives him of his Sense, and turns his Nature Brute; would he but trust me only with my Woman, I would contrive some way to see my Carlos.  Car. 
'Tis certain, Julia, that thou must be mine.  Jul. 
Or I must die, my Carlos.  [Anto. listening advances. Anto. 
— I'm sure 'tis Carlos' voice, and with a woman;  
And though he be my Rival but in Jest,  
I have a natural curiosity to see who 'tis he entertains.  Jul. 
Oh Heavens! Sir, here's Francisco; step aside  
Lest mischief should befall you.  [Runs in. Car. 
Now Love and wild desire prompt me to kill this happy Rival,— he's old, and can't be long in his arrears to Nature.— What if I paid the debt?  [Draws half way. 
One single push would do't, and Julia's mine;— but hang't Adultery is a less sin than Murder, and I will wait my Fortune—  Anto. 
Where are you,— Don Carlos?  Car. 
Who's there, Antonio? I took thee for my Rival, and ten to one but I had done thy business.  Anto. 
I heard ye talking, and believed you safe, and came in hopes to get a little time to speak to Clara in;— hah!— Jacinta—  Jac. 
Who's there, Antonio?  [Peeping of out the door. Anto. 
The same; may I not speak with Clare?  Jac. 
Come in, she's here.—  Car. 
And prithee, dear Jacinta, let me have one word with Julia more, she need not fear surprise; just at the door let me but kiss her hand.  [Goes in. Jac. 
I'll see if I can bring her.—  Enter Francisco. Fran. 
A proud ungracious Flurt,— a Lord with a Pox, here's a fine business i'faith, that she should be her own Carver,— well I'll home, and thunder her together with a vengeance.  Car. 
Who's here? sure this is he indeed; I'll step aside, lest my being seen give him an occasion of jealousy, and make him affront his Wife.  [Goes aside as Fran. was going in. Enter Julia. Fran. 
Hum, what have we here, a woman?  Jul. 
Heavens! what, not gone yet, my Dear?  Fran. 
So, so, 'tis my confounded wife, who expecting some body would have me gone now.  Jul. 
Are you not satisfied with all I've said,  
With all the vows I've made,  
Which here anew, in sight of Heaven, I breath?  Fran. 
Yes, yes, you can promise fair, but hang him that trusts ye.  Jul. 
Go, go, and pray be satisfied of my eternal love.—  Fran. 
How fain she'd have me gone now; ah subtle Serpent, is not this plain demonstration,— I shall murder her, I find the Devil great with me.  [aside still. Jul. 
— What is't thou pawsest on?  Fran. 
The wicked dissimulation of villainous woman.  aloud to her. Jul. 
Francisco.  Fran. 
Oh thou monster of Ingratitude, have I caught thee? You'd have me gone, would ye? ay, to Heaven, I believe, like a wicked woman as you are, so you were rid of me.— go,— and be satisfied of my eternal love,— ah, Gipsy,— no, Gentlewoman, I am a tough bit, and will hold you tugging till your heart ache.  Jul. 
Why, was there such hurt in desiring you to go, that you might make haste back again,— oh my fears!  Fran. 
That you might receive a lover,— 'tis plain— and my indignation's high.—  Jul. 
Heaven knows I meant—  Fran. 
Only to Cuckold me a little,— get you in,— where I will swear thee by Bell, Book and Candle,— get you in, I say,— go, go,— I'll watch for your Lover, and tell him how unkind he was to stay so long, I will.—  Ex. Julia, he stands just in the door, Carlos advances. Car. 
I hear no noise, sure 'twas he,— and he's gone in— To reap those joys he knows not how to value, And I must languish for; I'll stay a little— perhaps Jacinta may return again, for any thing belonging to my Julia is dear, even to my Soul.  [Goes just to the door, Fran. bolts out on him. Fran. 
who's there?— what would you have?— who would you speak to?— who do you come from?— and what's your business?  Car. 
Ha, 'tis the Sot himself;— my name is Carlos.  Fran. 
Carlos, what father of Belzibub sent him hither,— a plain case;— I'll murder her out of hand.  Car. 
— And I would speak to any body, Friend, that belongs to the fair Clara,— if you are any of this house.  Fran. 
Only the Cuckold of the house, that's all;— my name, Sir, is Francisco; but you, perhaps, are better acquainted with my Wife.  Car. 
Francisco, let me embrace you, my Noble Brother, And chide you, that you would not Visit me.  Going to embrace him, he flies off. Fran. 
And bring my Wife along with me.  Car. 
Both had been welcome— and all I have, you should Command.  Fran. 
For my Wife's sake— what if I should Pistol him now;— and I am damnably provoked to't, had I but Courage to shoot off one.  [aside Car. 
— Methinks you make not so kind returns as my Friendship to you, and the Alliance shall be between us, deserves.  Fran. 
I am something Ill-bred I confess, Sir;— 'tis dark, and if I should do't no body would know 'twas I.  [aside Car. 
I fear there's some misunderstanding between us, pray let us go in a while, I'll talk you from your error.  . Fran. 
Between us, Sir, oh Lord, not in the least, Sir, I love and Honour you, so heartily— I'd be content to give you to the Devil; but the noise of the Pistol would discover the business.  aside Car. 
— Come let's in, and talk a while.  Fran. 
I'm sorry I cannot do't, Sir, we are something incommoded being not at our own house.  Car. 
Brother, I am afraid you are a little inclined to be jealous, that will destroy all friendship.—  Fran. 
So, how finely the Devil begins to insinuate?  Car. 
— that makes a Hell of the Heaven of Love, and those very pains you fear, are less tormenting than that fear; what say you, Brother, is't not so with you?  Fran. 
— I find you would have me turn a Husband of the Mode, a fine convenient Tool, one of the Modern humour, a Civil person, that understands Reason, or so; and I doubt not but you would be as Modish a Gallant.  Car. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Fran. 
What, do you Laugh, Sir?  Car. 
Who can choose; to hear your suspicions, your needless Fears. Come, come, trust your Wife's discretion, and Modesty— and I doubt not but you will find yourself.—  Fran. 
— In the Road to Heaven, whither they say all Cuckolds go— I thank you for your advice; I perceive you would willingly help me onwards of my Journey.—  Car. 
I'm glad I know you, Sir,— farewell to you.—  [Goes out. Fran. 
No matter for that, so you know not my Wife— and so, farewell to you, Sir, and, the Devil take all Cuckold-makers.  [Ex. SCENE The inside of the House. Enter Clara, Julia, Antonio, Jacinta running to 'em. Jac. 
He has seen Don Carlos, and they have been in great discourse together, I could not hear one word, but you'll have it at both ears anon, I'll warrant you.  
Ha, he's coming.—  Enter Francisco. Cla. 
Heavens, he must not see you here.—  [To Antonio. Jac. 
Here, step in to Clara's Bedchamber.—  [He goes in. Fran. 
So, the Plot's at last discovered,— he was a Cavalier of his Parole.  Jul. 
Who speak you of?  Fran. 
Only the Governor, the fine young Governor, I delivered him the message, told him my mind, and the like.  Jul. 
So kind to visit us, and have you sent him away already?  Fran. 
Ah, Witch; already,— why, have I any lodging for him?  Jul. 
But I am glad you brought him not in, I being so unready.  Fran. 
But you are always ready for him, my dear victorious manslayer.  Jac. 
What means he, sure he has a Gad-bee in his brain.  Fran. 
Satan's she Advocate— peace I say;— so,— you look as innocently now, as a little Devil of two years old, I'll warrant;— come, come,— look me full in the face— thus,— turn your nose just to mine— so— now tell me whose damnable Plot this was, to send your Gallant with his Eloquence, Quirks and Conundrums, to tutor me into better manners?  Jul. 
Send him; I'll answer no such idle questions.—  Fran. 
He has taken a world of pains about your particular Chapter, and no doubt but he preached according to instructions;— what say you for yourself, that Judgement may not pass?  Jul. 
I say, you're an old jealous Fool; have I seen Don Carlos, or heard from Don Carlos, or sent to Don Carlos? here 's a do indeed.  Fran. 
What made you at the door against my positive commands,— the very street door,— in the night,— alone,— and undressed,— this is matter of Fact, Gentlewoman; you hastened me away,— a plain case,— and presently after Don Carlos comes to the door,— positive proof,— sees me and falls right down upon my jealousy,— clear conviction,— 'twas pity but I had followed his counsel, yes, when the Devil turns student in Divinity;— but no matter, I'll see your back fairly turned upon this Town to morrow; I'll marry my Daughter in the morning to Antonio, and a fair wind or not, we'll home; the Galley lies ready in the Harbour— therefore prepare, pack up your tools, for you are no woman of this world.  Anto. 
How? marry me to morrow to his daughter;— and carry his Wife from my friend; this misfortune must be prevented.  [Aside peeping. Fran. 
And so, Mistress, come your ways to your Chamber.  Jul. 
And study how to prevent this cruel separation.  Aside, goes out with him and Jacinta. Cla. 
Ah Antonio, I find by that sad look of yours, you have over heard our hasty Doom.  Anto. 
I have, and am a little surprised at the suddainness of it; and I myself am the unlucky occasion of it,— to break it off; I told my father how scurvily Isabel treated me,— he thereupon sends for old Francisco, tells him of my complaint, and instead of disingaging myself, I find myself more undone.  Cla. 
What shall we do? I'm sure thou wilt not marry her, thou canst not do't and hope to go to Heaven.  Anto. 
No, I have one prevention left, and if that fail, I'll utterly refuse to marry her, a thing so vainly proud; no Laws of Nature or Religion, sure, can bind me to say yes; and for my Fortune, 'tis my own, no Father can command it.  Cla. 
I know thou wilt be true, and I'll not doubt it.  Enter Jacinta. Jac. 
Ah! Madam, the saddest news—  Cla. 
Ha! what?  Jac. 
Poor Gentleman, I pity you of all things in the world,— you must be forced— how can I utter it,— to the most lamentable torment that ever Lover endured— to remain all night in your Mistress's Chamber.  Anto. 
Alas, how shall I endure so great an affliction?  Cla. 
And I.  Jac. 
Ha, ha, ha, how I am grieved to think on't; ha, ha, ha, that you should both be so hardly put to't; ha, ha, ha, for the old gentleman has locked all the doors, and took the keys to bed to him,— go get you in,— ha, ha, ha,—  Anto. 
Oh, my dear Clara, this is a blessing, I could not hope.  Cla. 
So large a freedom shall my Virtue prove,  
I'll trust my Honour with Antonio's Love.  [They go in. [Ex. Jacinta laughing.   

ACT III.  

SCENE I.  Enter Don Carlos, in his Nightgown, Antonio and Guzman with clothes. Car. 
ALL night with Clara sayst thou? that was lucky; but was she kind, my friend?  Anto. 
As I desired, or honour would permit her;  
Nor would I press her farther.  Car. 
A very moderate Lover.  Anto. 
For some part of my Virtue, Sir, I owe to you, in midst of all my Love, even in the kindest moments of delight, my joys were broken by concern for you.  
— Julia this day, or very suddenly, leaves Cadez.  Car. 
By Heaven, and so will Carlos then, for I'm so resolutely bent to possess that dear creature,  
That I will do't with hazard of my life,  
Expense of Fortune, or what's dear to me.  Guz. 
And how would you reward that politic head, that should contrive the means to bring this handsomely about; not for an hour, or a night, but even as long as you please, with freedom; without the danger of venturing your honourable neck, in showing feats of activity three stories high, with a Dagger in one hand and a Pistol in tother, like a Rope-dancer?  Car. 
But how? thou talkest of impossibilities.  Anto. 
Dost think she'll e'er consent to quit her Husband?  Guz. 
No, Heaven forbid, I am too good a Christian to par: manasses and wife; but being naturally inclined to works of Charity, I will with one project I have in this noddle of mine,— make old Francisco a Cuckold, accommodate my Lord and Julia, serve you, Sir,— and give ourselves a good Scene of mirth.  Car. 
Thou amazests me.  Guz. 
If I do't not, send me to the Galleys, nay, and so far cure the jealousy of the old Fellow, that from a rigid suspicious troublesome Fool, he shall become so tame and gentle a Husband,— that he shall desire you to favour him so much as to lie with his dear Wife.  Car. 
By what strange Witchcraft shall this be brought to pass?  Guz. 
E'en honest invention, Sir, good Faith, listen and believe:—— When he goes, he certainly goes by Sea, to save the charges of Mules.  Anto. 
Right, I heard him say so; in the Galley that lies in the Port.  Guz. 
Good, there is a Galley also, in the Harbour, you lately took from the Turks; habits too were taken in her enough to furnish out some forty or fifty as convenient Turks as a man would wish at the Devil.  Car. 
Ah Rogue, I begin to apprehend already.  Guz. 
Our Turkish Galley thus maned, I'll put to Sea, and about a League from Land, with a sham-fight, set on that of old Francisco, take it, make 'em all slaves, clap the old Fellow under hatches, and then you may deal with the fair slave his Wife, as Adam did with Eve.  Car. 
I'm ravished with the thought.  Anto. 
But what will be the event of this?  Car. 
I will not look so far, but stop at the dear Joys, and Fear no Fate beyond 'em.  Guz. 
Nay, with a little cudgeling this dull Brain of mine, I shall advance it Farther for the Jest sake;— as I take it, Signior Don Antonio, you have a fine Villa, within a Bow shot of this City belonging to yourself.  Anto. 
I have, with pleasant Gardens, Grottoes, Water-works.—  Car. 
A most admirable Scene for Love and our designs.  Anto. 
'Tis yours, Sir.  Guz. 
Then, Sir, when we have taken this old Fool, on whom the grossest cheat would pass, much more this, which shall carry so seeming a Truth in't, he being clapped under hatches in the Dark, we'll wind round a league or two at Sea, turn in, and Land at this Garden, Sir, of yours, which we'll pretend to be a Seraglio belonging to the Grand Signior; whither, in this hot part o'th' year, he goes to Regale himself with his She Slaves.  Car. 
But the Distance of Place and Time allow not such a Fallacy.  Guz. 
Why, he never read in's life; knows neither Longitude nor Latitude, and Constantinople may be in the midst of Spain for any thing he knows; besides, his Fear will give him little Leisure for thinking.  Anto. 
But how shall we do with the Seamen of this other Galley?  Guz. 
There's not above a Dozen, besides the Slaves that are chained to the Oar, and those Dozen, a Pistol a piece would not only make 'em assist in the Design, but betray it in earnest to the Grand Signior;— for them I'll undertake, the Master of it being Pier de Sula your Father's Old Servant, Sir.  [To Carlos. Anto. 
But possibly his mind may alter upon the Arrival of this false Count of ours?  Car. 
No matter, make sure of those Seamen however; that they may be ready upon occasion.  Anto. 
'Tis high time for me, that your Count were arrived, for this Morning is destined the last of my Liberty.  Car. 
This Morning— Come haste and dress me—  [To Guzman. 
— Guzman, where's our Count?  Enter Guilion dressed fine, two great Pages and a little one following. Guz. 
Coming to give you the good Morrow, Sir. And show you how well he looks the Part.  Car. 
Good day to your Lordship—  [Bowing. Guil. 
Morrow, morrow friend.  Anto. 
My Lord, your most humble servant.  Guil. 
Thank you friend, thank you; Page, Boy— whatest 'a Clock Sirrah?  Pag. 
About Eight, my Lord.  Anto. 
Your Lordship's early up?  Guil. 
My stomach was up before me, friend; and I'm damnable hungry; 'tis strange how a man's Appetite increases with his Greatness; I'll swinge it away now I'm a Lord,— then I will wench without mercy; I'm Resolved to spare neither man, Woman, nor Child, not I; hay Rogues, Rascals, Boys, my Breakfast, quickly Dogs— let me see what shall I have now that's Rare?  Pag. 
What will your Honour please to have?  Guil. 
A small rasher of delicate Bacon, Sirrah— of about a Pound, or two, with a small Morcel of bread— round the Loaf, d'ye hear, quickly Slaves.  Anto. 
That's gross meat, Sir, a pair of Quails— or—  Guil. 
I thank you for that i'faith, take your Don again, an you, please, I'll not be starved for ne'er a Don in Christiandom.  Anto. 
But you must study to refine your manners a little.  Guil. 
Manners, you shall pardon me for that, as if a Lord had not more privilege to be more saucy, more rude, impertinent, slovenly and foolish than the rest of his Neighbours, or mankind.  Car. 
Ay, ay 'tis great.  Guil. 
Your saucy Rudeness, in a Grandee, is Freedom; your Impertinence, Wit; your Sloven, Careless; and your Fool, good Natured, at least they shall pass so in me, I'll warrant ye.  Car. 
Well, you have your full instructions; your Baggage, Bills and Letters, from Octavio the Sivilian Merchant.  Guz. 
All, all, Sir, are ready, and his Lordship's breakfast waits.  Car. 
Which ended, we advance,  
Just, when Aurora rose from Thetis Bed,  
Where he had wantoned a short Summer's night,  
Harnessed his bright hooved Horses to begin  
His Gilded Course about the Firmament,  
Out sallied Don Guilelmo Roderigo de Chimeny swiperio, and so forth. Gad this Adventure of ours will be worthy to be sung in Heroic Rhyme Dogerell; before we have finnisht it, Come—  [Goes out Guil. 
hay Rogues, Rascals, Boys, follow me just behind.  [Exeum  

SCENE II.  Enter Clara and Jacinta. Jac. 
Nay I knew he would be Civil, Madam, or I would have born you company, but neither my Mistress nor I, Could sleep one wink all night, for fear of a Discovery in the Morning, and, to save the poor Gentleman a tumbling Cast from the window, my Mistress, just at day break, feigned herself wondrous sick,— I was called, desired to go to Signior Spadillio's the Apothecary's, at Next door, for a Cordial; and so he slipped out;— but the Story of this False Count pleases me extremely, and, if it should take, Lord, what mirth we shall have. Ha, ha, ha, I can't forbear with the thoughts on't.  Cla. 
And to see the Governor his man?  Jac. 
Ah, what a Jest will that be too,— Ha ha ha; but here Comes Isabel; le's puff up her Pride with Flatteries on her Beauty—  Enter Isabel looking in a Glass, and setting her Face. Isa. 
Ah, Heavens, those Eyes,— that Look;— that pretty Lear,— that my Father should be so Doting an old Fool, to think these Beauties fit for a little Merchandize.— a Marchioness would so much better become me.  [Looks again. 
— ah what a smile's there— and then that scornful look— 'tis great— heavens who's here?—  [Sees them. Cla. 
Only those Friends that wish you better Fortune than this day promises.  Jac. 
Look on that Face; Are there not lines that foretell a world of greatness, and promise much Honour?  Cla. 
Her Face, her Shape, her Mien, her every Part, declares her Lady— or something more.—  Isa. 
Why so, and yet this little creature of a Father, ridiculous and unambitious, would spoil this Lady, to make up a simple Citizen's Wife— in good time.  Jac. 
That very look had some presageing Grandeur.  Isa. 
Do you think so, Jacinta, Ha, ha, ha.—  Jac. 
That laugh again, oh heavens, how it Charms?  Cla. 
Ah how Graceful 'tis.  Jac. 
Ah, nothing but a great Gilt Coach will become it.  Cla. 
— With Six Spanish Mares.—  Jac. 
— And embroidered trappings.—  Cla. 
— With four Lackeys.  Jac. 
— And a Page at the tail on't.  Cla. 
She's evidently designed for a Person of quality.  Isa. 
Besides I have so Natural an inclination for a Don, that if my Father do force me to marry this small Creature of a Merchant, I shall make an intrigue with some body of quality.  Cla. 
Could you but manage it well and keep it from Antonio.  Isa. 
Keep it from Antonio,— is it think you for a little, silly Cit, to complain when a Don does him the Honour to Visit his Lady! Marry that were pretty.  Enter Francisco, and Lopez. Fran. 
How, a Count, to speak with me; With me, I say,— here at Cadez?  Lop. 
A Count, Sir, and to speak with you.  Fran. 
Art sure 'tis not the Governor?— I'll go lock up my Wife.  Lop. 
Governor, Sir, No, no, 'tis 'a mear stranger, Sir, a rare Count whom I never saw all days of my life before.  Fran. 
And, with me, would he speak? I hope he comes not to my Wife.  Enter Julia. Jul. 
Oh Husband, the delicatest sine Person of Quality, just alighted at the door, Husband.  Fran. 
What, have you seen him then, the Devil's in these Women, and there be but a loop hole to peep out off they'll spy a man,— I'm resolved to see this thing.— go, retire you women, here's men coming up.  Isa. 
And will men eat us?  Fran. 
No, but they may do worse, they may look on ye, and Looking breeds Liking; and Liking, Love; and Love, a damned thing, called Desire; and Desire begets the Devil and all of Mischief to young wenches.— Get ye gone in, I say,— here's a Lord coming— and Lords are plaguy things to women.  Isa. 
How, a Lord! oh, heavens! Jacinta, my Fan, and set my Hair in order, Oh the Gods! I would not but see a Lord for all the world! how my Heart beats already— keep your Distance behind, Jacinta,— Bless me, how I tremble— a little farther, Jacinta.  Fran. 
Come, come Husewife, you shall be Married anon, and then let your Husband have the Plague of you— but for my Gentlewoman,— Oh Lord— they're here.  Enter Guilion, Carlos and Pages, etc. Guil. 
How now, Fellow, where's this old. Don Francisco?  Fran. 
I'm the Person, Sir?  Isa. 
heavens', what an Air he has?  Guil. 
Art thou he? Old Lad, how dost thou do? Ha!  Fran. 
I don't know.  Guil. 
Thou knowest me not it seems, old Fellow, hah!  Fran. 
Know you— no, nor desire to do,— on what acquaintance pray?  Guil. 
By Instinct, such as you ought to know a Person of Quality, and pay your Civilities naturally; in France, where I have traveled, so much good Manners is used, your Citizen pulls of his hat, thus— to every Horse of quality, and every Coach of quality; and do you pay my proper Person, no more respect hah!  Isa. 
What a dishonour's this, to me, to have so Dull a Father, that needs to be instructed in his Duty.  Guil. 
But, Sir, to open the eyes of your understanding— here's a Letter to you, from your Correspondant a Merchant of Sivil.  Fran. 
Cry Mercy, my Lord, and yet I would he were a thousand Leagues off.  Guil. 
I have bills of Exchange too, directed to thee, old Fellow, at Sivil; but, finding thee not there, and, I (as most persons of my Quality are) being something idle, and never out of my way, came to this Town, to seek thee, Fellow,— being recommended as thou seest here, old Vermin,— here.—  [Gives him Bills. Isa. 
Ah what a graceful Mien he has? how fine his conversation? ah, the difference between him and a filthy Citizen.  Jul. 
— Clara has told me all.—  Jac. whispering to Jul. Car. 
That's she in the middle; stand looking on her languishingly,— your head a little a one side,— so,— fold your arms,— good,— now and then heave your breast with a sigh,— most excellent.—  [He groans. Fran. 
Bills for many many thousands.  Jac. 
He has you in his eye already.—  Isa. 
Ah, Jacinta thou flatterest me.  Jac. 
Return him some kind looks in pity.  [She sets her eyes and bows, etc. Car. 
That other's my Mistress,— couldst thou but keep this old Fellow in discourse whilst I give her the sign to retire a little.—  Guil. 
I'll warrant you I'll banter him till you have Cuckold him, If you manage matters as well as I.  Fran. 
My Lord, I ask your pardon for my rudeness in not knowing you before, which I ought to have done in good manners, I confess;— who the Devil does he stare at so?— Wise, I command you to withdraw, upon pain of our high displeasure.— my Lord, I shall dispatch your affairs,— he minds me not,— Ay,— 'tis my Wife,— I say, Minion, begone,— your Bills, my Lord, are good, and I accept Julia goes to t'other side to Carlos. 'em;— why, what a Devil he minds me not yet,— and though I am not at my proper home— I am where I can command Money,— hum,— sure 'tis my daughter,— Ay, ay,— 'tis so, how if he should be smitten now; the plaguy jade had sure the spirit of Prophecy in her; 'tis so,— 'tis she,— my lord—  Guil. 
Prithee, old Fellow, peace,— I am in Love.—  Fran. 
In Love,— what, shall I be the Father of a Lord, would it become me, think ye?— he's mighty full of Cogitabund;— my Lord,— my Lord,— sure his Soul has left the Tenement of his Body,— I have his Bills here, and care not if it never return more.  [Looks over the Bills. Car. 
Dear Julia, let's retire, our time's but short.  Jul. 
I dare not with you, the venture would be too bold in a young beginner in the Thefts of Love.  Guil. 
— Her Eyes are Suns, by Jove.—  Car. 
Oh, nothing is so venturous as Love, if it be true.  Guil. 
— Or else, two Morning Stars,  
All other Beauties are but Soot to her.  Jul. 
But should my husband—  Car. 
He's safe for one dear half hour, I'll warrant you, come.  Fran. 
'Em— my Wife here still,— must I begin to thunder?—  Jul. 
Lord, and you be so froward, I'll be gone.—  Car. 
So, her Husband kind heart lest she should be cruel, has himself given me the dear opportunity.—  [Aside. 
— Be sure you keep the old Fellow in discourse a while.  Guil. 
Be you as sure to Cuckold him.—  [Ex. Car. and Jul. 
— Old Fellow,— prithee what person of quality's that?  Fran. 
Person of quality,— alas, my Lord, 'tis a silly Citizen's daughter.  Guil. 
A Citizen's; what clod of earth could bring forth such a Beauty?  Fran. 
Alas, my Lord, I am that clod of Earth, and to Earth if you call it so, she must return again, for she's to be married to a Citizen this Morning.  Guil. 
Oh! I am doubly wounded, first with her harmonious eyes,  
Who've sired my heart to that degree,  
No Chimney ever burnt like me.  
Fair Lady,— suffer the Broom of my Affection to sweep all other Lovers from your heart.  Isa. 
Ah, my Lord, name it not, I'm this day to be married.  Guil. 
To day;— name me the Man, Man, did I say, the Monster that dares lay claim to her, I deign to love,— none answer me,— I'll make him smoke by Vulcan— and all the rest of the Goddesses.  Fran. 
Bless me, what a furious thing this Love is?  Guil. 
By this bright sword, that is so used to slaughter, he dies; old Fellow, say— the Poltroons name.  [Draws. Fran. 
Oh fearful— alas, dread Sir!—  Isa. 
Ah! sheath your Sword, and calm your generous Rage.  Guil. 
I cannot brook a Rival in my Love, the rustling Pole of my affection is too strong to be resisted.—  Runs raging up and down the Stage with his Sword in his hand. Isa. 
I cannot think, my Lord, so mean a Beauty, can so suddenly charm a heart so great as yours.  Guil. 
Oh! you're mistaken, as soon as I cast my eyes upon the full moon of your countenance, I was struck blind and dumb.—  Fran. 
Ay, and deaf too, I'll be sworn, he could neither hear, see nor understand; this Love's a miraculous thing.  Guil. 
And that minute, the most renowned Don Guilelmo Roderigo de Chimeny-swiperio, became your Galley slave,— I say no more, but that I do Love,— and I will Love, and that if you are but half so willing as I, I will dub you, Vicountess de Chimeny Swiperio.  Isa. 
I am in Heaven, ah! I die, Jacinta.  
How can I credit this, that am so much unworthy?  Guil. 
I'll do't, say no more, I'll do't.  Fran. 
Do't, but my Lord, how, and with what face can I put off Signior Antonio, hum?  Guil. 
Antonio,— hay, Pages, give order that Antonio be instantly run through the Lungs— d'ye hear?  Fran. 
Oh, hold, hold, my Lord! run through the Lunges.  Page. 
It shall be done, my Lord, but, what Antonio?  Guil. 
Why any Antonio; all the Antonio's that you find in 〈◊〉.  Fran. 
Oh, what bloody minded Monsters these Lords are!— But, my Lord, I'll ne'er give you the trouble of killing him, I'll put him off with a handsome compliment; as thus,— Why, look ye, Friend Antonio, the business is this, my Daughter Isabel may marry a Lord, and you may go fiddle.—  Guil. 
Ay, that's civil,— and if he do not desist, I'll unpeople Spain but I'll kill him; for, Madam, I'll tell you what happened to me in the Court of France— there was a Lady in the Court in love with me,— she took a liking to my Person which,— I think,— you will confess.—  Isa. 
To be the most accomplished in the World.  Guil. 
— I had some sixscore Rivals, they all took snuff; that is, were angry,— at which I smiled;— they were incensed, at which I laughed, ha, ha, ha,— i'faith; they raged, I— when I met '●…m,— Cocked, thus— en passant— justled 'em— thus,—  [Overthrows Fran. 
They turned and frowned,— thus,— ay— drew.—  Fran. 
What, on all the sixscore, my Lord?  Guil. 
All, all; sa sa, quoth I, sa sa sa, sa sa sa.  [Fences him round the Stage. Fran. 
Hold, hold, my Lord, I am none of the sixscore.  Guil. 
— and run 'em all through the body—  Fran. 
Oh Heavens! and killed 'em all.  Guil. 
Not a man,— only run 'em through the Body a little, that's all; my two boys were by, my Pages here.  Isa. 
Is it the fashion, Sir, to be attended by Pages so big?  Guil. 
Pages of honour always;— these were stinted at nurse, or they had been good proper fellows.  Fran. 
I am so frighted with this relation, that I must up to my Wife's Chamber for a little of that stung Cordial that recovered her this morning.—  [Going out Guil. stays him. Guil. 
Why, I'll tell you, Sir, what an odd sort of a wound I received in a duel the other day,— nay, Ladies, I'll show it you; in a very odd place— in my back parts.  Goes to untuck his breeches, the Lady's squeak. Isa. 
Ah!  Pag. 
Show a wound behind, Sir, the Ladies will think you are a Coward.  Guil. 
Peace Child, peace, the Ladies understand Dueling as little as myself;— but, since you are so tenderhearted, Ladies, I'll not show my wound; but faith, it spoiled my dancing.  [Page comes in. Page, 
My Lord, now you talk of dancing, here's your baggage brought from a-board the Galley by your Seamen, who used to entertain you with their rustic sports.  Guil. 
Very well; Sir, with your permission, I am resolved whether you will, or no, to give the Ladies some divertisement, — bid 'em come in; nay, Sir, you stir not,  [Ex. Page. 
'Tis for your delight, Sir, I do't; for, Sir, you must understand, a man, if he have any thing in him, Sir, of Honour, for the case, Sir, lies thus, 'tis not the business of an Army to droll upon an Enemy,— truth is, every man loves a whole skin;— but, 'twas the fault of the best States-man in Christendom to be loose in the hilts;— you conceive me.  Fran. 
Very well, my Lord, I'll swear he's a rare spoken man;— why, what a Son-in-law shall I have? I have a little business my Lord, but I'll wait on you presently.  [Going out. Guil. 
— Sir, there is nothing like your true Jest, a thing once well done, is twice done, and I am the happiest man in the World in your alliance;— for, Sir, a Nobleman if he have any tolerable parts,— is a thing above the Vulgar;— oh,— here come the Dancers;  Enter Dancers. 
Come, sit down by me.  Fran. 
'Tis my duty to stand, my Lord.  Guil. 
Nay, you shall sit.—  [They dance with Don. Enter Antonio. Anto. 
Good day, Sir, I hope you will not chide my tardiness, I have a little overslept myself, and am ashamed to see my lovely Bride, and all this worthy company attend;— But you, fair Creature.—  [To Isabel Isa. 
No marrying to day, Sir.  Fran. 
No, Sir, no marrying to day.—  Anto. 
How, do I dream, or hear this from Francisco?  Guil. 
How now, Fellow, what art thou?  Anto. 
The Husband of that proud disdainful Woman.  Guil. 
Another word like that,— and thou art—  Anto. 
— What, Sir?—  Fran. 
— Oh, hold, hold, my Lord! Antonio, I must tell you, you're uncivil.  Guil. 
Dost know, dull Mortal, that I am a Lord,  
And Isabel my adopted Lady?  Anto. 
I beg your pardon, Sir, if it be so, poor Mortals can but grieve in silence.  Guil. 
Alas poor Mortal!  Anto. 
But, for you, Francisco.  Fran. 
Ah, dear Antonio, I vow and swear I cannot choose but weep to lose thee; but my Daughter was born for a Lady and none can help their destiny.  Anto. 
And is it possible thou canst use me thus?  [Too Isa. Isa. 
Take away that little Fellow, in pity of your life, I deign to bid you withdraw and be safe.  Guil. 
D'ye hear, hah?— this Lady has begged your life.  Anto. 
Begged my life.  Guil. 
Vile wretch, darest thou retort?  [Draws, the Women hold him. Fran. 
Oh! hold, hold my noble son-in-law, he shall do any thing;— dear Antonio, consider,— I was never Father to a Lord all days of my life before:— my Lord, be pacified, my Daughter shall be a Lady.—  Isa. 
For my sake, spare him, and be Friends with him, as far as you may deign to be with a little Citizen.  Guil. 
Fellow, I forgive thee,— here's my hand to kiss in sign and token I am appeased  [Gives him his hand to kiss, 'tis all black. Anto. 
A Pox of his honourable hand, 't had like to have spoiled all,— well,— since it must be so,— I am content—  Guil. 
So, now peace is concluded on, on all sides, what shall we do to day besides eating and drinking in abundance; for to morrow I shall get myself in order for my marriage?  Cla. 
What thinks your Honour of taking the air upon the Sea, in a Galley, a League or two?  Guil. 
With Fiddles, Drums and Trumpets, West-Phalia hams and Pigeons and the like: hay Rogues, Scoundrels, Dogs.  Isa. 
Ah, how fine is every action of a great man!  Guil. 
Command a Galley to attend us presently,  
— you shall along, old Boy.  [To Fran. Fran. 
Alas, I must stay at home with my Wife, my Lord.  Guil. 
A Wife! have I a Mother-in-law too?— she must along with us, and take a frisk,— no denial:  Enter Carlos. 
— Oh, are you come?  [Aside. Car. 
Yes and thank thee for the best moment of my life:— hast thou contrived the Voyage then?  Guil. 
Take no care— come haste on board— our honour will not lose the Fresco of the morning,— Follow me— Pages.  Pag. 
At your heels, my Lord,—  [Exeunt.   

ACT IU.  

SCENE I.  Enter, as a board the Ship, Guilion, Isabel, Francisco, Julia, Antonio, Clara, Jacinta, Pedro and his Wife, Page's. Guil. 
Ladies and Gentlemen, you are welcome aboard,— Come, put off to sea, Rogues, Scoundrels, Tarpaulins, to your business, and then, every man his Bottle,— hay Page, Rogues, where are my men? Come, spread the Table— for we are very hungry.  Isa. 
heavens', what a peculiar Grace there is in every word that comes from the Mouth of a Cavalier!  Guil. 
By Mars, the God of Love!  Pag. 
By Cupid, Sir.  [Aside to him. Guil. 
Cupid, Sirrah, I say, I'll have it Mars, there's more Thunder in the sound! I say, by Mars, these Galleys are pretty neat convenient Teniments— but a— I see ne'er a Chimney in 'em;— Pox on't, what have I to do with a Chimney now?  Isa. 
He is a delicate, fine person, Jacinta, but, methinks, he does not make Love enough to me.  Jac. 
Oh, Madam, Persons of his Quality never make Love in words, the greatness of their Actions show their Passion.  Jac. 
Ay, 'tis true all the little Fellows talk of love.  Guil. 
Come, Ladies, set; Come Isabel, you are Melancholy,— Page— Fill my Lady a Beer-glass.  Isa. 
Ah, heavens', a Beer-glass.  Guil. 
O your Vicountess never drinks under your Beer-glass, your Citizen's Wives simper and sip, and will be drunk without doing Credit to the Treater; but in their Closets, they swinge it away, whole Slashes i'faith, and egad, when a woman drinks by herself, Glasses Come thick about? your Gentle woman, or your little Lady, drinks half way, and thinks in point of good manners, she must leave some at the bottom, but your truebred Woman of Honour drinks all, Supernaculum, by Jove.  Isa. 
What a misfortune it was, that I should not know this before, but should discover my want of so necessary a piece of grandeur.  Jac. 
And nothing, but being Fuddled, will redeem her Credit.  Guil. 
Come— fall to, old Boy,— thou art not merry; what have we none that can give us a song?  Anto. 
Oh, Sir, we have an Artist aboard I'll assure you; Signior Cashier, shall I beg the favour of you to show your Skill?  Pet. 
Sir, my Wife and I'm at your service.  Guil. 
Friend, what Language can you Sing?  Pet. 
Oh, Sir, your Singers speak all Languages.  Guil. 
Sayst thou so, prithee then let's have a touch of Heathen Greek.  Pet. 
That you shall, Sir, Sol la me fa sol, etc.  Fran. 
Hum, I think this is indeed Heathen Greek. I'm sure 'tis so to me.  Guil. 
Ay, that may be, but I understand every word on't.  Fran. 
Good lack, these Lords are very Learned men.  Pet. 
Now, Sir, you shall hear one of an other Language from my Wife and I.  [Sing a Dialogue in French. Enter the Captain. Cap. 
Well Gentlemen though the news be something unpleasant that I bring, yet to Noble minds 'tis sport and pastime.  Guil. 
Ha Fellow! What's that that's sport and pastime to Noble minds?  Fran. 
Oh Lord, no goodness I'll warrant.  Capt. 
But, Gentlemen, pluck up your spirits, be bold and resolute.  Fran. 
Oh Lord, bold and resolute, why what's the matter, Captain?  Capt. 
You are old, Signior, and we expect no good from you but prayers to Heaven?  Fran. 
Oh Lord, Prayers to Heaven! Why I hope, Captain, we have no need to think of Heaven.  Capt. 
At your own Peril be it then, Signior, for the Turks are coming upon us.  Fran. 
Oh Lord, Turks, Turks!  Guil. 
Turks, oh, is that all?  [Falls to eating. Fran. 
All— why they'll make Eunuchs of us, my Lord, Eunuchs of us poor men, and lie with all our Wives!  Guil. 
Shaw, that's nothing, 'tis good for the Voice,— how sweetly we shall sing, ta, lafoy, ta la la, ta la, etc.  Fran. 
Ay, 'twill make you sing another note, I ll warrant you.  Enter a Seaman. Sea. 
For heavens' sake, Sirs, do not stand Idle here; Gentlemen, if you would save your lives,— draw, and defend 'em.  [Ex. Fran. 
Draw, I never drew any thing in my life, but my Purse, and that most damnably against my will; oh, what shall I do?  Enter Captain. Cap. 
Ah, my Lord, they bear up briskly to us, with a Fresh Gale and full Sails.  Fran. 
Oh, dear Captain, let's tack-about and go home again.  Cap. 
'Tis impossible to scape, we must fight it out.  Fran. 
Fight it out, oh I'm not able to endure it,— why, what the Devil made me a ship-board?  [Ex. Captain. Guil. 
Why, where be these Turks! Set me to 'em, I'll make 'em smoke, dogs, to dare attack a man of Quality.  Isa. 
Oh, the insolence of these Turks? do they know who's Aboard? For heavens' sake, my Lord, do not expose your Noble Person.  Guil. 
What, not fight!— Not fight! A Lord, and not fight? Shall I submit to Fetters, and see my Mistress ravished by any great Turk in Christiandom, and not fight?  Isa. 
I'd rather be ravished a thousand times, than you should Venture your Person.  [Seamen 〈◊〉 within. Fran. 
Ay I dare swear.  Enter Seamen. Sea. 
Ah, Sirs, what mean you, come on the Deck for shame.  Anto. 
My Lord, let us not tamely fall, there's danger near.  [Draws. Guil. 
Ay, Ay, there's never smoke but there's some fire— come let's away— ta lafoy, tan ta lafoy, la la, etc.  [Draws. [Ex. singing, and Antonio, and Pet. Fran. 
A Pox of all Lords, I say, you must be Janting in Devil's-name, and God's dry Ground would not serve your 〈◊〉,  [Shoot here. 
Oh how they Thunder! What shall I do— oh for some Auger hole to thrust my Head into, for I could never indure the Noise of Cannons,— oh 'tis insupportable,— intolerable and not to be endured.  [Running as mad about the stage. Isa. 
Dear Father, be not so frighted!  [Weeps. Fran. 
Ah, Crocodile, would thou hadst wept thy Eyes out long agoe that thou hadst never seen this Count; then he had never loud thee, and then we had never been invited a ship-board.  [A noise of fighting. Enter Guilion, Pet. and Antonio. Driven in fighting by Guzman and other Turks. Anto. 
Ah, Sir, the Turks have boarded us, we re lost we re lost  Fran. 
Oh, I am slain, I'm slain.  [Falls down. Guil. 
Hold,— hold, I say, you are now in the presence of Ladies, and 'tis uncivil to fight before Ladies.  Guz. 
Yield then, you are our slaves.  Guil. 
Slaves, no Sir, we're slaves to none but the Ladies.—  [Offers to fight. Isa. 
Oh, hold, rude man— D'ye know whom you encounter?  Guz. 
What's here— one dead—  [Looking on Francisco. Fran. 
Oh, Lord!  Guz. 
Or, if he be not, he's old, and past service, we'll kill the Christian Dog out of the way.  Fran. 
Oh, hold, hold, I'm no Christian, Gentlemen; but as errant a Heathen as yourselves.  Guz. 
Bind him Straight neck and heels, and Clap him under Hatches.  Jul. 
Oh, spare him, Sir, look on his Reverend Age.  Guz. 
For your sake, Lady, much may be done, we've need of hansome women.  [Gives her to some Turks that are by. Fran. 
Hah,— my Wife! My Wife Ravished— oh I'm dead.  Jul. 
Fear not, my Dear, I'll rather die than do thee wrong.  Fran. 
Would she would, quickly,— then there's her honour saved, and her ransom, which is better.  Guz. 
Down with the muttering Dog.  [He descends, 
— And take the Ladies to several Cabins.  [The Turks take hold of the Men Isa. 
Must we be parted then,— ah, cruel Destiny!  Weeps. Guil. 
Alas! this separation's worse than death.  Isa. 
You possibly may see some Turkish Ladies, that may ensnare your heart, and make you faithless;— but I, ah Heavens! if ever I change my Love, may I become deformed, and lose all hopes of Title or of Grandeur.  Guil. 
But thoved the Grand Signior behold thy Beauty, thou wouldst despise thine own dear honey Viscount to be a Sultana.  Isa. 
A Sultana, what's that?  Guil. 
Why, 'tis a she great Turk; a Queen of Turkey.  Isa. 
These dear expressions go to my heart.—  [Weeps 
And yet a Sultana is a tempting thing—  [Aside smiling. 
— And you shall find your Isabella true,— though the Grand Signior would lay his Crown at my feet,— would he would try me though,— Heavens! to be Queen of Turkey.  [Aside. Guil. 
May I believe thee,— but when thou seest the difference, alas, I am but a Chimney— hum, nothing to a great Turk.  Isa. 
Is he so rare a thing— oh that I were a the Great Turk.  Guz. 
Come, come, we can't attend your Amorous 〈◊〉.  [〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Jul. 
Alas, and what shall we poor women do?  [〈◊〉 Isa. 
We must e'en have patience, Madam, and be ravished.  Cla. 
Ravished! Heavens forbid.  Jac. 
An please the Lord, I'll let my nails grow against 〈◊〉 direful day.  Isa. 
And so will I, for I'm resolved none shall ravish me but the Great Turk.  Guz. 
Come, Ladies, you are Dishes to be served up to the board of the Grand Signior.  Isa. 
Why, will he eat us all?  Guz. 
A slice of each, perhaps, as he finds his appetite 〈◊〉.  Isa. 
A slice, uncivil Fellow,— as if this Beauty were for a bit and away;— Sir, a word,— if you will do me the favour to recommend me to be first served up to the Grand Signior, I shall remember the civility when I am great.  Guz. 
Lady, he is his own Carver, a good word by the by, or so, will do well, and I am,— a Favourite—  Isa. 
Are you so, here, take this Jewel,— in earnest of greater Favours—  [Gives him a Jewel. Exeunt all.  

SCENE II. A Garden.  Enter Don Carlos and Lopez. Car. 
But, why so near the Land? by Heaven I saw each action 〈◊〉 the Fight, from yonder grove of Jesemine, And doubtless all beheld it from the Town.  Lop. 
The Captain, Sir, designed it so, and at the Harbour gave it out those two Galleys were purposely prepared to entertain the Count and the Ladies with the representation of a Sea-fight: lest the noise of the Guns should Alarm the Town, and, taking 〈◊〉 for a real Fight, should have sent out supplies, and so have ●…in'd our designs.  Car. 
Well, have we all things in readiness?  Lop. 
All, Sir, all.  Enter Page. Page. 
My Lord, a Barge from the Galley is just arrived at the Garden Stairs.  Enter Guzman. Car. 
I'll retire then, and fit me for my part of this Farce.  Guz. 
My Lord, you must retire, they're just bringing the old Gentleman a shore.  Car. 
prithee how does he take his Captivity?  Guz. 
Take it, Sir, he has cast himself into a fit, and has lain like one in a Trance this half hour; 'tis impossible for him to speak Sense this fortnight; Ill secure his Reason a playday for so long at least; your servants, in Turkish habits, are now his 〈◊〉, who will keep him safe enough from hindering your delights with 〈◊〉.  Car. 
What ever you do have a care you do not overfright the Coxcomb, and make a Tragedy of our Comedy.  Guz. 
I'll warrant you, Sir, mind you your Love affairs;— he's coming in,— retire, Sir.—  [Ex. Car. and Page and Lop. Enter some Turks with the Body of Francisco in Chains, and lay him down on a Bank. 1 Tu. 
Christian, so ho ho, Slave awake.—  [Rubbing and calling him. Fran. 
— Ha!— where am I?— my Wife,— my Wife,— where am I?— hah!— what are you?— Ghosts,— Devils,— Mutes,— no answer,— hah,— bound in chains,— Slaves, where am I?  1 Tu. 
They understand not your Language, but I, who am a Renigado Spaniard, understand you when you speak civility, which I advise you to do.  Fran. 
Do you know me, Friend?  1 Tu. 
I know you to be a Slave, and the Great Turk's Slave too.  Fran. 
The Great Turk,— the Great Devil, why where am I, Friend?  1 Tu. 
Within the Territories of the Grand Signior, and this, a Palace of Pleasure, where he recreates himself with his Mistresses.  Fran. 
And how far is that from Cadez;— but what care I, my Wife, Friend, my own Wife.  1 Tu. 
Your own,— a true Musselman could have said no more; but take no care for her, she s provided for.  Fran. 
Is she dead, that would be some comfort,—  1 Tu. 
No, she's alive and in good hands.  Fran. 
And in good hands; oh, my head! and, oh, my heart! ten thousand tempests burst the belly of this day wherein old Francisco ventured Life and Limb,— Liberty and Wife to the mercy of these Heathen Turks.  1 Tu. 
Friend, you need not thus complain;— a good round ransom redeems ye.  Fran. 
A round ransom, I'll rot in my chains first, before I 'll part with a round ransom.  1 Tu. 
You have a fair Wife, and need not fear good usage if she knows how to be kind;— you apprehend me.  Fran. 
Patience, good Lord.  1 Tu. 
Perhaps the Grand Signior may like her, and to be favoured by him is such a Glory.—  Fran. 
As the Devil take me if I desire.—  1 Tu. 
— And then you may in triumph laugh at all the rest of your Brother Cuckolds.  Fran. 
Hum,— and has the Devil served me thus,— but no matter, I must be gadding, like an old Coxcomb, to Cad●…,— and then, jan●…ing to Sea, with a Pox, to take pains to be a Cuckold,— to bring my Wife into a strange Land, amongst Unbelievers, with a vengeance, as if we had not honest Christian Cuckold-makers enough at home; Sot that I was, not to consider how many Merchants have been undone by trusting their Commodities out at Sea;— why, what a damned ransom will the Rogues exact from me, and more for my Wife because she's handsome, and then, 'tis ten to one, I have her turn d upon my hands the worse for wearing; oh, damned Infidels!— no, 'tis resolved, I'll live a slave here, rather than enrich them.  1 Tu. 
Friend, you'll know your destiny presently;— for, 'tis the custom of the Great Turk to view the Captives, and consider of their ransoms and liberties according to his pleasure,— see he is coming forth with the Vizer Bassa;  Enter Carlos and Guzman as Turks with followers. 
Most mighty Emperor, behold your Captive.  Fran. 
Is this the Great Turk?  1 Tu. 
Peace.  Fran. 
Bless me! as we at home describe him, I thought the Great Turk had been twice as big, but, I shall find him Tyrant big enough, I'll warrant him.  Guz. 
Of what Nation art thou, Slave, speak to the Emperor he understands thee, though he deign not to hold discourse to Christians, Dogs.  Fran. 
Oh fearful!— Spain so please you, Sir.  Guz. 
By Mahomet, he'll make a reverend Eunuch.  Fran. 
An Eunuch,— oh, Lord!—  1 Tu. 
Ay, Sir, to guard his Mistresses, 'tis an honour.  Fran. 
Oh! Mercy,— Sir, that honour you may spare, Age has done my business as well already.  Guz. 
Fellow what art?  Fran. 
An't please your worship, I cannot tell.  Guz. 
How, not tell?  Fran. 
An't please your Lordship, my Fears have so transformed me, I cannot tell whether I'm any thing or nothing.  Guz. 
Thy Name, Dull mortal, know'st thou not that?  Fran. 
An't please your Grace, now I remember me, methinks I do.  Guz. 
Dog, how art thou Called?  Fran. 
An't like your Excellence, men Called me Signior Don Francisco but now they will call me Coxcomb.  Guz. 
Of what Trade?  Fran. 
An't please your Highness, a Gentleman.  Guz. 
How much dost thou get a day by that Trade?— Ha!  Fran. 
An't like your Majesty, our Gentlemen never get but twice in all their Lives; that is, when Father's die, they get good Estates; and when they Marry, they get rich Wives; but I know what your Mightyness would get by going into my Country and asking the Question.  Guz. 
What, Fool?  Fran. 
A good cudgeling, an't please your Illustriousness.  Guz. 
Slave! To my Face!— Take him away and let him have the Strappado.  Car. 
Baridama, 〈◊〉.  Fran. 
heavens', what says he?  1 Tu. 
He means to have you castriated.  Fran. 
Castriated! Oh that s some dreadful thing I'll warrant— Gracious Great Turk, for Mahomet's sake, excuse me; alas, I've lost my wits.  Car. 
Galero Gardines?  Guz. 
The Emperor asks it thou art Married, Fellow.  Fran. 
Hah— Married— I was an't like your Monsterousness, but, I doubt your people have spoiled my Property.  Guz. 
His Wise, with other Ladies, in a Pavilion in the Garden, attend your Royal pleasure.  Car. 
Go, setch her hither presently—  [Ex. Guzman. 1 Tu. 
This is no common honour, that the Great Turk degns to speak your Language; 'tis a sign you ll 〈◊〉.  Fran. 
Yes, by the height of a pair of Horns.  Car. 
Is she handsome?  Fran. 
Oh, what an Ague shakes my heart,— handsome, aha, no, dread Sir; what should such a deformed Poulcat as I do with a handsome Wife?  Car. 
Is she young?  Fran. 
Young— what should such an old doting Coxcomb as I do with a young-Wife— Pox on him for a Heathen Whore master.  Car. 
Old is she then?  Fran. 
Ay, very old, an't please your Gloriousness.  Car. 
Is she not Capable of Love?  Fran. 
Hum,— so so, like sire concealed in a Tinderbox,— I shall run Mad.  Car. 
Is she witty?  Fran. 
I'm no Competent Judge, an't like your Holiness,— this Catechism was certainly of the Devil's own making.  [Aside, Enter Guzman, bringing in Julia, Clara, Isabel, Jacinta, Guilion, Antonio: etc. Women veiled. Car. 
These, Sir, are all the Slaves of Note are taken.  Isa. 
Dost think, Jacinta, he'll choose me?  Jac. 
I'll warrant you, Madam, if he look with my Eyes.  Guz. 
Stand forth—  [To the men. Guil. 
Stand forth, Sir, why, so I can, Sir: I dare show my Face, Sir, before any Great Turk in Christiandom.  Car. 
What are you, Sir?  Guil. 
What am I, Sir? Why, I'm a Lord, a Lord.  Fran. 
Are you mad to own your quality, he'll ask the Devil an all of a ransom.  Guil. 
No matter for that, I'll not lose an Inch of my Quality for a King's Ransom, disgrace myself before my fair Mistress.  Isa. 
That's as the Great Turk and I shall agree.  [Scornfully Car. 
What are you, Sir?  Anto. 
A Citizen of Cadez.  Car. 
Set 'em by, we'll Consider of their Ransoms— now unveil the Ladies.  [Guzman unvails Jacinta. Fran. 
Oh, dear Wife, now or never show thy Love, make a Damnable face upon the silthy Ravisher,— glout thy Eyes thus— and thrust out thy upper lip, thus—  [Guzman presents Jacinta. Guil. 
Oh, dear Isabel, do thee look like a Dog too.  Isa. 
No, Sir, I'm resolved I'll not lose an Inch of my Beauty, to save so trifling a thing as a Maiden head.  Car. 
Very agreeable, pretty and Cheerful— a most divine Bud of Beauty— all nature's Excellence— drawn to the life in Little,— what are you, fair one?  She is veiled and set by: Then Cla ra is unveiled. Cla. 
Sir, I'm a Maid.  Fran. 
So, I hope, he will pitch upon her.  Cla. 
Only, by promise, Sir, I've given my self away.  Car. 
What happy man could claim a title in thee, And trust thee to such danger?  Isa. 
heavens', shall I be defeated by this little Creature! What pity 'twas he saw not me first?  Cla 
I dare not name him, Sir, lest this small Beauty which you say adorns me, should gain him your displeasure; he's in your Presence, Sir, and is your slave.  Car. 
Such innocence this plain Confession shows, Name me the man, and I'll resign thee back to him.  Fran. 
A Pox of his Civility.  Anto. 
This mercy makes me bold to claim my right.  [Kneels. Car. 
Take her, Young man, and with it both your Ransoms.  Guil. 
Hum— hum— very noble i'faith, we'll e'en confess our loves too, Isabel.  Isa. 
'Slife he'll spoil all,— hold— pray let your betters be served before you.  Guil. 
How! Is the Honour of my Love despised?— were't not i'th' presence of the Great Turk, for whom I have a reverence because he's a man of quality— by Jove I'd draw upon you.  Isa. 
Because you were my Lover once, when I am Queen I'll Pardon you;—  Guzman unveils her, and leads her to Carlos, she making ridiculous Actions of Civility. Car. 
What Akward— fond— Conceited Thing art thou? Veil her and take the Taudry Creature hence.  Guil. 
Hum— your Majesty's humble servant—  Putting off his hat, 〈◊〉. Fran. 
How! refuse my Daughter too; I see the Lot of a Cuckold will fall to my share.  Guz. 
This is the Wife, Great Sir, of this old Slave.  [Vnveiles Julia. Car. 
Ha! what do I see, by Mahomet, she's fair.  Fran. 
So, so, she's condemned, oh, damned Mahometan cannibal! will nothing but raw flesh serve his turn?  Car. 
I'll see no more,— here I have fixed my heart.  Fran. 
Oh, Monster of a Grand Signior!  Guz. 
Have you a mind to be flayed, Sir?  Car. 
Receive my Handkerchief.—  [Throw, it to her. Fran. 
His Handkerchief; bless me what does he mean?  Guz. 
To do her the honour to lie with her to night.—  Fran. 
Oh, hold, most mighty Turk.  [Kneeling. Guz. 
Slave, darest thou interrupt 'em,— die, Dog.  Fran. 
Hold, hold, I'm silent.  Car. 
I Love you fair one, and design to make you—  Fran. 
A most notorious Strumpet,— a Pox of his courtesy.  Car. 
— What Eyes you have like Heaven-blew and charming, a pretty Mouth, Neck, round and white as polished Alabaster, and a complexion, beauteous as an Angel,— a ha●… fit to make Bonds to ensnare the God of Love,— a sprightly Air,— a hand like Lilies white, and Lips, no Roses opening in a Morning are half so sweet and soft.  Fran. 
Oh, damned circumcifed Turk.  Car. 
You shall be called the bautifull Sultana,  
And rule in my Seraglio dressed with jewels.  Fran. 
Sure I shall burst with vengeance.  Jul. 
Sir, let your Virtue regulate your passions; For I can ne'er love any but my husband.  Fran. 
Ah, does mbling Witch!  Jul. 
— And would not break my marriage Vows to him, for all the honour you can heap upon me.  〈◊〉. 
Say, and hold; but, Sultana and precious Stones, are damnable temptations,— besides, the Rogue's young and handsome,— What a scornful look she casts at me; would they 〈◊〉 both handsomely at the Devil together.  Guz. 
Dog,— do you mutter?  Fran. 
Oh! nothing, nothing, but the Palsy shook my Lip a little.  Guz. 
Slave, go, and, on your knees, resign your Wife.  Fran. 
she 's of years of discretion,— and may dispose of herself self; but I can hold no longer,— and, is this your Mahometan Conscience, to take other men's Wives, as if there were not single Harlots enough in the world?  [In rage. Guz. 
Peace, thou diminutive Christian.  Fran. 
I say, peace, thou overgrown Turk,  Guz. 
Thou Spanish Cur.  Fran. 
Why, you're a Mahometan Bitch, and you go to that.  Guz. 
Death, I'll dissect the bald pated Slave.  Fran. 
I defy thee, thou foul filthy Cabbage head, for I am mad, and will be valiant.  [Guz. throws his Turban at him. Car. 
What Insolence is this?— Mutes— strangle him.—  [They put a Bowstring about his neck. Jul. 
Mercy, dread Sir, I beg my Husband's life.  Car. 
No more,— this fair one bids you live,— hence forth, Francisco, I pronounce you a Widower, and shall regard you, for the time to come, as the deceased Husband of the Great Sultana, murmur not upon pain of being made an Eunuch— take him away—  Jul. 
Go, and be satisfied, I'll die before I'll vield.  Fran. 
Is this my going to Sea?— the Plague of losing Battles light on thee.  
When ill success shall make thee idle lie,  
Mayst thou in bed be impotent as I.  Car. 
Command our Slaves to give us some diversion; Dismiss his Chains, and use him with respect, because he was the Husband of our beloved Sultana.  Fran. 
I see, your Cuckold might have a life good enough if he could be contented—  [They pull off his Chains. [Carlos and Julia sit under an Vmbrello. 

The SONG.  

How strangely does my Passion grow,  
Divided equally 'twixt two?  
Damon had ne'er subdued my Heart,  
Had not Alexis took his part:  
Nor, could Alexis powerful prove,  
Without my Damon's aid, to gain my Love.   

When my Alexis present is,  
Then I for Damon sigh and mourn;  
But, when Alexis I do miss,  
Damon gains nothing but my scorn:  
And, if it chance they both are by;  
For both, alas! I languish, sigh, and die.   

Cure then, thou mighty Winged God,  
This raging Fever in my Blood.  
One golden-pointed Dart take back;  
But, which, O Cupid, wilt thou take?  
If Damon's, all my hopes are crossed:  
Or, that of my Alexis, I am lost.    Enter Dancers, which dance an Antique Car. 
Come, my dear Julia, let's retire to Shades. [Aside to her.  
Where only thou and I can find an entrance;  
These dull, these necessary delays of ours  
Have drawn my Love to an impatient height,  
— attend these Captives,— at a respectful distance.  [Ex. all but Isa. who stays Guil. Guil. 
What would the Great Sultana?  Isa. 
Ah! do not pierce my heart with this unkindness.  Guil. 
Ha, ha, ha,— Pages,— give order, I have Letters writ to Sivil, to my Merchant,— I will be ransomed instantly.  Isa. 
Ah, cruel Count!  Guil. 
Meaning me, Lady; ah, fie! no, I am a Scoundrel; I a Count, no, not I, a Dog, a very Chim— hum,— a son of a Whore, I, not worthy your notice.  Isa. 
Oh, Heavens! must I lose you then? no, I'll die first.  Guil. 
Die, die, then, for, your betters must be served before you.  Isa. 
Oh! I shall rave; false and lovely, as you are, did you not swear to marry me, and make me a Vicountess.  Guil. 
Ay, that was once when I was a Lover, but, now you are a Queen,— you're too high i'th' mouth for me.  Isa. 
Ah! name it not; will you be still hard-hearted?  Guil. 
As a Flint, by Jove.  Isa. 
Have you forgot your Love?  Guil. 
I've a bad memory.  Isa. 
And will you let me die?  Guil. 
I know nothing of the matter.  Isa. 
Oh, Heavens! and shall I be no Vicountess?  Guil. 
Not, for me, Fair Lady, by Jupiter,— no, no,— Queen's much better,— Death, affront a man of Honour, a Viscount that would have took you to his Bed,— after half the Town had blown upon you,— without examining either Portion or Honesty, and would have took you for better for worse— Death, I'll untile houses, and demolish Chimneys, But I'll be revenged.  [Draws, and is going out. Isa. 
Ah, hold! your anger's just, I must confess, yet pardon the frailty of my Sex's vanity; behold my tears, that sue for pity to you.  [She weeps, he stands looking on her. Guil. 
— My Rage dissolves.—  Isa. 
I ask but death or pity.  [He weeps. Guil. 
— I cannot hold,— but, if I should forgive, and marry you, you would be gadding after honour still, longing to be a she Great Turk again.—  Isa. 
Break not my heart with such suspicions of me.  Guil. 
And, is it pure and tender Love for my Person, And not for my glorious Titles?  Isa. 
Name not your Titles, 'tis yourself I love,  
Your amiable, sweet and charming self,  
And, I could almost wish you were not great,  
To let you see my Love.  Guil. 
I am confirmed—  
'Tis no respect of Honour makes her weep;  
Her Love's the same should I cry— Chimney Sweep.    

ACT V.  

SCENE I. A Garden.  Enter Francisco alone. Fran. 
NOW am I afraid to walk in this Garden, lest I should spy my own natural Wife lying with the Great Turk in Fresco upon some of these fine flowery Banks, and learning how to make Cuckolds in Turkey.  Enter Guzman and Jacinta. Guz. 
Nay, dear Jacinta, cast an eye of pity on me. What, deny the Vizer Bassa.  Jac. 
When you are honest Guzman again, I'll tell you a piece of my mind.  Guz. 
But, opportunity will not be so kind to Guzman, as to the Grand Bassa; therefore, dear Rogue, let's retire into these kind shades, or, if foolish Virtue be so squeamish, and needless Reputation so nice, that Mr. Vicar must say Amen to the bargain, there is an old lousey Friar, belonging to this Villa, that will give us a cast of his office, for I am a little impatient about this business, Greatness, having infused a certain itch in my blood, which I felt not, whilst a common man.  Fran. 
'Em, Why, what have we here, pert Mrs. Jacinta, and the Bassa? I hope the Jade will be Turkeyfied with a vengeance, and have Circumcision in abundance; and the Devil shall ransom her for old Francisco.  Jac. 
Ha, the old Gentleman.  Fran. 
What? the Frolic is to go round, I see, you women have a happy time on't.  Guz. 
Men that have kind Wives may be as happy; you'll have the honour of being made a Cuckold, Heaven be praised.  Fran. 
Ay, Sir, I thank ye,— pray under the Rose, how 〈◊〉 my Wife please his Grace the Great Turk?  Guz. 
Murmuring again, thou Slave.  Fran. 
Who, I? O Lord, Sir! no, not I, why, what hurt is there in being a Cuckold?  Guz. 
Hurt, Sirrah, you shall be swinged into a belief, that it is an honour for the Great Turk to borrow your wife.  Fran. 
But, for the Lender to pay Use-money, is somewhat severe;— but, see, he comes,— bless me, how grim he looks!  Enter Carlos. Car. 
Come hither, Slave,— why was it that I gave you Life dismissed the fetters from your aged limbs?  Fran. 
For love of my Wife, and 't please your Barbarousness.  Car. 
— Gave you free leave to range the Palace round, excepting my apartment only?  Fran. 
Still, for my Wife's sake, I say, and t'like your Hideousness.  Car. 
And yet, this Wife, this most ungrateful Wife of yours again would put your chains on, expose your life to dangers and new torments by a too stubborn virtue, she does refuse my courtship, and foolish is chaste.  Fran. 
Alas! what pity's that?  Car. 
I offered much, loved much, but all in vain;  
Husband, and Honour, still, was the reply.  Fran. 
Good lack! that she should have no more Grace before her eyes.  Car. 
But, Slave, behold these Mutes; that fatal instrument of death behold too, and in 'em read thy doom, if this coy Wife of yours be not made flexible to my addresses.  Fran. 
Oh, Heavens! I make her.  Car. 
No more, thy Fate is fixed— and, here attend, till he himself deliver his willing Wife into my arms: Bassa, attend and see it, see it be performed—  [To his Mutes, then to Guz. [Ex. Car. Guz. 
Go, one of you, and fetch the fair slave hither.  [Ex. Turk. Fran. 
I Pimp for my own Wife, I hold the door to my own Flesh and Blood, O monstrum horrendum!  Guz. 
Nay, do't, and do't handsomely too, not with a snivelling countenance, as if you were compelled to't;— but, with the face of authority, and the awful command of a Husband— or— thou diest—  Enter Turk and Julia. Fran. 
My dear Julia, you are a Fool, my Love.—  Jul. 
For what, dear Husband?  Fran. 
I say, a silly Fool, to refuse the love of so Great a Turk; why, what a Pox makes you so coy?  [Angrily. Jul. 
How! this from you, Francisco.  Fran. 
— Now does my heart begin to fail me;— and yet, I shall ne'er endure strangling neither;— why, am not I your Lord and Master, hah?  Jul. 
Heavens! Husband, what would you have me do?  Fran. 
Have you do;— why, I would have ye— d'ye see,— 'twill not out;— why, I would have ye— lie with the Sultan, huswife; I wonder how, the Devil, you have the face to refuse him, so handsome— so young a Lover; come, come, let me hear no more of your coyness, Mistress, for, if I do— I shall be hanged;—  [Aside. 
The Great Turk's a most worthy Gentleman, and therefore I advise you to do as he advises you; and the Devil take ye both.—  [Aside. Jul. 
This from my Husband, old Francisco! he advise me to part with my dear Honour!  Fran. 
Rather than part with his dear Life, I thank ye.—  [Aside. Jul. 
Have you considered the Virtue of a Wife?  Fran. 
No, but I have considered the neck of a Husband.  [Aside. Jul. 
— Which Virtue, before I'll lose, I'll die a thousand deaths.  Fran. 
So will not I, one; a Pox of her Virtue,— these women are always virtuous in the wrong place.  [Aside. 
— I say, you shall be kind to the sweet Sultan.  Jul. 
And rob my Husband of his right!  Fran. 
Shaw, exchange is no robbery.  Jul. 
And forsake my Virtue, and make none Dear a Cuckold.  Fran. 
Shaw, most of the Heroes of the world were so;— go prithee Honey go— do me the favour to Cuckold me a little, if not for Love, for Charity.—  Jul. 
Are you in earnest?—  Fran. 
I am.—  Jul. 
And, would it not diplease you?  Fran. 
I say, no;— had it been Aquinius his Case, to have saved the pinching of his Gullet he would have been a Cuckold—  [Aside. Jul. 
Fear has made you mad, or you're bewitched;  
and I'll leave you to recover your Wits again.  [Going out. Fran. 
Oh, Gracious Wife, leave me not in despair; I am not mad, no, nor no more bewitched than I have been these forty years; 'tis you're be witched to refuse so handsome— so young, and so— a Pox on him, she'll ne'er relish me again, after him.  Kneels to her and holds her. [Aside. Jul. 
Since you've lost your honour with your wits, I'll try what mine will do.  Enter Carlos. Turks. Fran. 
Oh! I am lost,— I'm lost— dear Wife,— most mighty Sir, I've brought her finely to't;— do not make me lose my credit with his Mahometan Grace,— my wife has a monstrous affection for your Honour, but, she's something bashsull; but, when alone your Magnanimiousness will find her a swinger.  Car. 
— Fair Creature—  Jul. 
Do you believe my Husband, Sir, he's mad.  Car. 
Dog.—  [Offers to kill him. Fran. 
Hold mighty Emperor; as I hope to be saved 'tis but a copy of her countenance— inhuman Wife— lead her to your apartment Sir;—— barbarous honest woman,— to your chamber, Sir,— would I had married thee an errand Strumpet; nay, to your Royal bed, Sir, I'll warrant you she gives you taunt for taunt: try her, Sir, try her.  [Puts 'em out. Jac. 
Hark you, Sir, are you possessed, or, is it real reformationin you? what moved this kind fit?  Fran. 
E'en Love to sweet Life; and, I shall think myself ever obliged, to my dear Wife, for this kind Reprieve;— had she been cruel— I had been strangled or hung in the Air like our Prophets Tomb.  Enter first Turk. 1 Tu. 
Sir, boast the honour of the news I bring you.  Fran. 
Oh, my head! how my brows twinge!  1 Tu. 
The mighty Sultan, to do you honour, has set your Daughter and her Lover free, ransomless;— and, this day, gives 'em liberty to solemnize the Nuptials in the Court;— but, Christian Ceremonies must be private; but you're to be admitted, and, I'll conduct you to 'em.  Fran. 
Some comfort, I shall be Father to a Viscount, and for the rest— Patience—  
All Nations Cuckolds breed, but I deny  
They had such need of Cuckolding as I  [Goes out with the Turk. Enter Antonio, and Clara to Jacinta. Jac. 
Madam, the rarest sport— Ha ha ha.  Anto. 
You need not tell us, we have been witness to all,  
But to our own affairs, my dearest Clara.  
Let us not lose this blessed opportunity,  
Which Art nor Industry can give again if this be idly lost.  Cla. 
Nay, hang me if it be Antonio, Charge it to the Number of your own sins; it shall not lie at my door.  Anto. 
'Tis generously said, and take notice, my little dear Virago, Guzman has a Priest ready to tie you to your word.  Cla. 
As fast us you please; hang her that fears the Conjuring knot for me: But what will our Fathers say,— mine, who Expects me to be the Governor's Lady; and yours, who designs Isabel for a Daughter-in-law?  Anto. 
Mine will be glad of the Change, and, for yours, if he be not pleased, let him keep his Portion to himself— that's the greatest mischief he can do us: and for my friend, the Governor, he s above their anger.  Cla. 
Why do we lose precious time; I long to be at,— I Clara, take thee Antonio,— the very ceremony will be tedious, so much I wish thee mine; and each delay gives me a fear something will snatch me from thee.  Anto. 
No power of man can do't, thou art so Guarded; but now the Priest is employed in Clapping up the honourable marriage between the False Count and Isabel.  Jac. 
Lord, what a jest 'twill be to see 'em Coupled, ha, ha.  Cla. 
Unmercyfull Antonio, to drive the jest so far; 'tis too unconscionable!  Anto. 
By Heaven, I'm so proud I cannot think my Revenge sufficient for affionts, nor does her Birth, her Breeding and her Vanity— deserve a better Fortune; besides,— he has enough to set up for a Modern Spark— the Fool has just wit and good-manners sufficient to pass for a Fop of fashion; and, where he is not known, will gain the Reputation of a fine accomplished Gentleman, — yet I'm resolved she shall see him in his jeers, in his original Filthiness, that my Revenge may be home upon the foolish Gilt.  Cla. 
Cruel Antonio,— come let's go give 'em joy.  Anto. 
And finish our asfair with Mr Vicar.—  Enter Isabel, her train born by the great Page; Guiliom, with the other great Page, and Francisco, bore. 
— Joy to my Noble Lord, and you, fair Isabel!  Isa. 
Thank thee, Fellow,— but, surely, I deserved my Titles from thee.  Cla. 
Your Honour, I hope, will Pardon him.  Isa. 
How now Clara—  [Nodding to her. Jac. 
I give your Honour joy.  Isa. 
Thank thee, poor Creature.—  Fran. 
My Lord,— this Honour you have done my Daughter is so signal, that whereas, I designed her but Five Thousand pound, I will this happy day— settle on her ten.—  Guil. 
Damn dirty trash your Beauty is sufficient— hum— Signior Don Antonio, get the Writings ready,— Money— hang money.  [Aside. Fran. 
How generous these Lords are; nay, my Lord, you must not refuse a Father's love— if I may presume to call you son— I shall find enough besides for my Ransom, if the Tyrant be so unmercyfull to ask more than my Wife pays him.  Guil. 
Nay, if you— will force it upon me.  Isa. 
Ay, take it, the trifling some will serve to buy our Honour Pins.  Anto. 
Well, Sir, since you will force it on him, my Cashier shall draw the Writings.  Guil. 
And have 'em signed by a public Notary,—  [Aside.] Fran. 
With all my Soul, Sir, I'll go give him order, and subscribe.  [Ex. Francisco. Guil. 
Let him make 'em strong and sure— you shall go halves.  [Aside. Anto. 
No, you will deserve it dearly, who have the Plague of such a Wife with it;— but harkye, Count— these goods of Fortune are not to be afforded you, without conditions.  Guil. 
Shaw, conditions, any conditions, Noble Antonio.  Anto 
You must disrobe anon, and don your Native habiliaments— and in the Equipage give that fair Vicountess to understand the true quality of her Husband.  Guil. 
Hum— I'm afraid, 'tis a harder task to leap from a Lord to a Rogue, then 'tis from a Rogue to a Lord.  Anto. 
Not at all, we have Examples of both daily.  Guil. 
Well, Sir, I'll show you my agility— but, Sir,— I desire— I may Consummate, d'ye see,— Consummate,— a little like Lord, to make the marriage sure.  Anto. 
You have the Freedom to do so— the Writings I'll provide.—  Guil. 
I'll about it then, the Priest waits within sor you, and Guzman for you Jacinta,— haste, for he is to arrive anon Ambassador from Cadez.  Jac. 
I know not, this noise of Weddings has set me a gog, and I'll e'en in, and try what 'tis.  [Ex. Antonio, Clara, and Jacinta Guil. 
Come, Madam, your Honour and I have something else to do— before I have fully dubbed you a Vicountess.  Isa. 
Ah heavens', my Lord, what's that?  Guil. 
Why, a Certain Ceremony, which must be performed between a pair of Sheets,— but we'll let it a lone till Night.  Isa. 
Till night, no; whate'er it be, I would not be without an Inch of that Ceremony, that may Complete my Honour, for the World; no for heavens' sake let's retire, and Dub me presently.  Guil. 
Time enough, time enough.  Isa. 
You love me not; that can deny me this.  Guil. 
Love— no— we are Married now, and people of our Quality never love after Marriage 'tis not great.—  Isa. 
Nay, let's retire, and Complete my Quality, and you will find me Wife a of the Mode I'll warrant you.  Guil. 
For once you have prevailed.  Enter Francisco. Fran. 
Whither away.—  Isa. 
Only to Consummate a little, pray keep your distance.  [She pulls of his hat. Fran. 
Consummate.—  Isa. 
Ay, Sir, that is to make me an absolute Vicountess— we cannot stay— farewell—  [Guilion, Leads her out. Fran. 
Hum— this Turkey Air has a notable Faculty, where the women are all plaguy kind.—  Enter Carlos, and Julia. Car. 
By Heaven each Moment makes me more your slave—  Fran. 
The business is done.  Jul. 
My husband.  [Aside. Car 
— And all this constant love to old Francisco, has but engaged me more.  Fran. 
Ha, Love to me?  [Aside. Jul. 
Sir, if this virtue, be but real in you, how happy I should be; but you'll relapse again and Tempt my virtue— which if you do—  Fran. 
I'll warrant she would kill herself.  [Aside. Jul. 
— I should be sure to yield—  [In a soft tone to him. Car. 
No, thou hast made an absolute Conquest o'er me— and if that Beauty tempt me every hour, I shall be still the same I was the last.  Fran. 
Pray Heaven he be John.  Enter 1 Turk. 1 Turk. 
Most Mighty Emperor, a Messenger from Cadez has Letters for your Highness.  Car. 
Conduct him in; in this retreat of ours we use no State.  Enter Guzman, as himself, giveth Carlos Letters. Guz. 
Don Carlos, Governor of Cadez greets your Highness.  Car. reads] 
High and Mighty,  
For seven Christian Slaves, taken lately by a Galley of yours, we offer you twice the Number of Mahometans taken from you by us,— if this suffice not,— propose your Ransoms, and they shall be paid by  
Don Carlos Governor of Cadez.— Know you this Carlos offers so fair for you?  Fran. 
Most Potent Lord, I do, and wonder at the Compliment,— and yet I am not jealous— I have so over acted the Complesant Husband, that I shall never fall into the other Extreme again.  Car. 
Go, let the Christian Governor understand his Request is granted.  Guz. 
The slaves are ready, Sir, and a Galley to carry off the Christians.  Jul. 
How shall we make this Governor amends?  Fran. 
I do even weep for joy; alas, I must leave it to thee Love!  Jul. 
To me, Sir, do you mock me?  Fran. 
Mock thee, no; I know thy virtue, and will no more be jealous, believe me Chicken I was an old Fool.  Car. 
Your Wife is Chaste— she overcame my unruly passion with her Prayers and Tears.  Enter Isabella, at one door; Clara, Antonio, Jacinta, at another; Isabella's Train carried up. Fran. 
Rare News,— we are all free and ransomed! All 〈◊〉 well and the man has his Mare again.  Isa. 
You still forget your Duty and your distance.  Fran. 
A Pox of your troublesome Honour; a man can't be overjoyed in quiet for't.  Enter Baltazer, and Sebastian. Seb. 
Sure I am not Mistaken, this is the House of my Son Antonio.  Bal. 
Let it be whose house 'twill; I think the Devil's broke loose in't.  Seb. 
— Or the Turks; for I have yet met with ne'er a Christian thing in't.  Fran. 
Ha,— Do I dream, or is that my Father-in-law, and Signior Sebastian?  Anto. 
My Father here.—  Car. 
Baltazer—  [Aside. Bal. 
Son, Francisco, why do you gaze on me so?  Fran. 
Bless me, Sir, are you taken by the great Turk too?  Bal. 
Taken,— Great Turk,— what do you mean!  Fran. 
Mean, Sir; why, how the Devil came you into Turkey?  Bal. 
Sure Jealousy has Cracked his Brains.  Fran. 
Crack me no Cracks, good Father mine;— am not I a Slave in Turkey? and is not this the Grand Signors Palace?  Car. 
So,— all will come out, there's no prevention.  [Aside. Seb. 
Some that are wiser answer us: You Son,— are you infected too?— was not yesterday to abeen your Wedding day?  Anto. 
To day has done as well, Sir, I have only changed Isabel for Clara.  Seb. 
How, Francisco, have you juggled with me?  Fran. 
My Daughter's a Lady, Sir.  Bal. 
And you Mistress; you have Married Antonio, and left the Governor.  Cla. 
I thought him the fitter Match, Sir, and hope your Pardon.  Jul. 
We cannot scape.  Fran. 
But how came you hither, Gentlemen, and how durst you venture?  Seb. 
Whither, Sir, to my own Son's house; is there such danger in coming a mile or two out of Cadez?  Fran. 
Is the Devil in you, or me, or both? Am not I in the Possession of Turks and Insidels?  Bal. 
No, Sir; safe in Antonio Villa; within a League of Cadez.  Fran. 
Why, what a Pox, is not this the Great Turk himself?  Bal. 
This, Sir;— cry mercy, my Lord— 'tis Don Carlos, Sir, the Governor.  Fran. 
The Governor; the worst Great Turk of all; so, I am cozened,— most rarely cheated; why, what a horrid Plot's here carried on, to bring in Heretical Cuckoldom?  Car. 
Well, Sir, since you have found it out. I'll own my Passion.  Jul. 
Well, if I have been kind you forced me 〈◊〉, nay Begged on your knees, to give myself away.  Fran. 
Guilty, guilty! I confess,— but 'twas to the Great Turk, Mistress, not Don Carlos.  Jul. 
And was the sin the greater?  Fran. 
No, but the Honour was less.  Bal. 
Oh, horrid! What, entreat his Wife to be a Whore?  Car. 
Sir, your mistaken, she was my Wife in sight of Heaven before; and I but Seized my own.  Fran. 
Oh,— Sir, she's at your Service still.  Car. 
I thank you, Sir, and take her as my own.  Bal. 
Hold, my Honour's concerned.  Fran. 
Not at all, Father mine, she's my Wife, my Lumber now, and, I hope, I may dispose of my Goods and Chattels:— if he takes her we are upon equal terms, for he makes himself my Cuckold, as he has already made me his;— for, if my memory fail me not, we did once upon a time consummate, as my Daughter has it.  Enter Guilion in his own dress, crying Chimney-Sweep. Guil. 
Chimney-sweep,— by your leave, Gentlemen.  Anto. 
Whither away, Sirrah?  Guil. 
What's that to you, Sir?—  Anto. 
Not to me, Sirrah;— who would you speak with?  Guil. 
What's that to you, Sir? why, what a Pox may not a man speak with his own Lady and Wife?  Cla. 
Heavens! his Wife! to look for his Wife amongst Persons of Quality!  Car. 
Kick out the Rascal.  Guil. 
As soon as you please, my Lord; but, let me take my Wife along with me.  [Takes Isa. by the hand. Isa 
Faugh!— what means the Devil?  Guil. 
Devil;— 'twas not long since you found me a humane creature, within there.—  Isa. 
Villain, Dog; help me to tear his eyes out.  Guil. 
What, those eyes, those lovely eyes, that wounded you so deeply?  Fran. 
What's the meaning of all this?— why, what, am I cozened? and is my Daughter cozened?  Guil. 
Cozened! why? I'm a man, Sir.—  Fran. 
The Devil you are, Sir, how shall I know that?  Guil. 
Your Daughter does, Sir; and, that's all one.  Isa. 
Oh! I'm undone; am I no Vicountess then?  Guil. 
Hang Titles; 'twas myself you loved, my amiable sweet and charming self: in sine, sweet heart, I am your Husband; no Viscount, but honest Guilion the Chimney sweeper.— I heard your Father designed to marry you to a Tradesman, and you were for a Don; and to please you both, you see how well I have managed matters.  Fran. 
I'll not give her a farthing.  Guil. 
No matter, her love's worth a million; and, that's so great, that I'm sure she'll be content to carry my Soot-basket after me.  Isa. 
Ah! I die, I die.  Guil. 
What, and I so kind?  Isa. 
Help; murder, murder!  Goes and kisses her, and blacks her face. Guil. 
Well, Gentlemen, I am something a better fortune than you believe me, by some thousands.  [Shows Car. his writings. Car. 
Substantial and good, faith, Sir, I know not where you'll find a better fortune for your Daughter as cases stand.  [To Fran. Guil. 
And, for the Viscount, Sir; gay clothes, Money and Confidence will set me up for one, in any ground in Christiandom.  Car. 
Faith, Sir, he's i'th' right; take him home to Sivil, your neighbours know him not, and he may pass for what you please to make him; the Fellow's honest, witty and handsome.  Fran. 
— Well, I have considered the matter;— I was but a Leather-seller myself, and am grown up to a Gentleman; and, who knows but he, being a Chimney-sweeper, may, in time, grow up to a Lord; Faith, I'll trust to Fortune, for once— here— take her, and rid me of one Plague, as you, I thank you, Sir, have done of another.—  [To Carlos. Guil. 
Prithee, be pacified, thou shalt see me within this hour, as pretty a fluttering Spark as any's in Town.— my noble Lord,— I give you thanks and joy; for, you are happy too.  Car. 
As Love and Beauty can make me.  Fran. 
And I, as no damned Wife, proud Daughter or tormenting Chambermaid can make me.  Anto. 
And I, as Heaven and Clara can.  
— You base born Beauties, whose Ill mannered Pride,  
Th'industrious noble Citizens deride,  
May you all meet with Isabella's Doom.  Guil. 
— And, all such Husbands as the Count Guiliome.    
FINIS.  

EPILOGUE  
Spoken by Mrs. Barry. Made by a Person of Quality.  

I Come not a Petitioner to sue,  
This Play the Author has writ down to you;  
'Tis a slight Farce, five days brought forth with ease,  
So very foolish that it needs must please;  
For though each day good Judges take offence,  
And Satyr Arms in Comedy's defence,  
You are still true to your Jack Pudding Sense.  
No 〈◊〉 can miss your Approbation,  
You love it as you do a new French Fashion:  
Thus in true hate of Sense, and Wit's despite,  
Bantring and Shamming is your dear deligh:  
Thus among all the follies here abounding,  
None took like the new Ape-trick of Dumsounding.  
If to make People laugh the business be,  
You Sparks better Comedians are than we;  
You every day out sool even noke's and Lee.  
They 're forced to stop and their own Farces quit,  
T' admire admire the Merry Andrews of the Pit;  
But if your mirth so grate the Critique's ear,  
Your Love will yet more Harlequin appear.  
— You 〈◊〉 Grievance of the Boxes,  
You wither'd Ruins of stained Wine and Pox;  
What strange Green sickness do you hope in Women  
should make 'em love old fools in new point Linen;  
The Race of Life you run off-hand too sast,  
Your fiery Mettle is too hot to last;  
Your Fevers come so thick, your claps so plenty,  
Most of you are threescore at five and twenty.  
〈◊〉 town 〈◊〉 I 〈◊〉 know you 〈◊〉 enough,  
Your courting Women's like your taking Snuss;  
Out of mere Idleness you keep a 〈◊〉,  
You've no more need of one than of the other.  
Ladies—  
Would you be quit of their insipid noise,  
And vain pretending, take a fool's advice;  
Of the faux Braves I 've had some little trial,  
There's nothing gives 'em credit but denial:  
As when a Coward will pretend to Hussing.  
Offer to sight, away sneaks Bully-Russin.  
So when these Sparks, whose business is addressing,  
In Love pursuites grow troublesome and pressing.  
When they affect to keep still in your eye,  
When they send Grisons every where to spy,  
And full of Coxcomb dress and Ogle high;  
Seem to receive their Charge, and face about,  
I 'll pawn my life they never stand it out.   
FINIS.