THE SPANISH gipsy. As it was Acted (with great Applause) at the Private House in DRURY-LANE, and SALISBURY COURT.  
Written by THOMAS MIDLETON, Gent. AND WILLIAM ROWLEY. Gent.  
Never Printed before.  
LONDON, Printed by I. G. for Richard Marriot in St. Dunstan's Churchyard, Fleetstreet, 1653.   

Drammatis Personae.  

FErnando, corregidor of Madrill.  


Pedro de Cortes.  
Francisco de Carcomo.   Two old Dons.  
Roderigo, Son to Fernando.  
Lewis, Son to De Castro, slain by Alvarez.  
Diego, Friend to Don Lewis.  
Don John, Son to Francisco De Carcomo, and a Lover of Constanza.  
Sancho, A foolish Gentleman, and Ward to Don Pedro.  
Soto, A merry fellow his Man.  
Alvarez, An old Lord disguised like the Father of the Gipsies.  


Claro.  
Antonio.   Two Gentlemen, disguised like Gipsies.  

Women 


Maria, Wife to Don Pedro.  
Clara, Their Daughter.  
Guiamara, Wife to Count Alvarez, and Sister to Fernando, disguised like the Mother of the Gipsies, and called by the Name of Eugenia.  
Constanza, Daughter to Fernando, disguised like a young Spanish gipsy, and called by the Name of Pretiosa.  
Christiana, A Gentleman, disguised like a gipsy.  
Cardochia, A young Hosts to the Gipsies.  
Servants.       
The Scene, Alicant.   

THE SPANISH gipsy.  

ACTUS PRIMUS.  Enter Roderigo, Lewys, and Diego. Lew. 
ROderigo.  Die. 
Art mad?  Ro. 
Yes, not so much with Wine; it's as rare to see a Spaniard a drunkard, as a German sober, an Italian no Whoremonger, an English man to pay his debts. I am no Borachia, Sack, Maligo, nor Canary breeds the Calenture in my brains, mine eye mads me, not my cups.  Lew. 
What wouldst have us do?  Ro. 
Do?  Die. 
So far as 'tis fit for a Gentlemen we'll venture.  Ro. 
I ask no more, I ha' seen a thing has bewitched me, a delicate body, but this in the waste, Foot and Leg tempting, the Face I had a glimpse of: but the Fruit must needs be delicious, the Tree being so beautiful.  Lew. 
Prithee to the point.  Ro. 
Here 'tis, an old Gentleman, (no matter who he is) an old Gentlewoman (I ha' nothing to do with her) but a young creature that follows them, Daughter or Servant, or whatsoever she be her I must have, they are coming this way, shall I have her? I must have her.  Die. 
How, how?  Lew. 
Thou speak'st impossibilities.  Ro. 
Easy, easy, easy, I'll seize the young girl: stop you the old man, stay you the old woman.  Lew. 
How then?  Ro. 
I'll fly off with the young Bird, that's all, many of our Spanish Gallants act these merry parts every night, they are weak and old, we young and sprightly, will you assist me?  Lew. 
troth Roderigo any thing in the way of honour.  Ro. 
For a wench Man any course is honourable.  Lew. 
Nay not any, her Father, if he her Father may be noble.  Ro. 
I am as noble.  Lew. 
Would the adventure were so.  Ro. 
Stand close, they come.  Enter Pedro, Maria, and Clara. Ped. 
'Tis late would we were in Madrill.  Ma. 
Go faster my Lord.  Ped. 
Clara, keep close.  They seize them. Cla. 
Help, help, help!  Ro. 
Are you crying out? I'll be your Midwife.  Exit with Clara! Ped. 
What mean you Gentlemen?  Ma. 
villains, Thieves, Murderers.  Ped. 
Do you know me? I am De Cortes, Pedro de Cortes!  Lew. 
De Cortes, Diego, come away.  Exit. Ped. 
Clara, where is my Daughter?  Ma. 
Clara I these Villains  
Have robbed us of our comfort, and will, I fear,  
Her of her honour.  Ped. 
This had not wont  
To be our Spanish Fashion, but now our Gallants,  
Our Gentry, our young Dons heated with Wine,  
(A fire our Countrymen do seldom sit at)  
Commit these outrages, Clara!— Maria,  
Let's homeward, I will raise Madrill to find  
These traitors to all goodness, Clara.  Ma. Clara. Exit. Enter Lewys and Diego. Lew. 
Oh Diego I am lost, I am mad!  Die. 
So we are all.  Lew. 
'Tis not with wine, i'm drunk with too much horror,  
Inflamed with rage, to see us two made Bawds  
To Roderigo's lust, did not the old man  
Name Decortes, Pedro de Cortes?  Die. 
Sure he did.  Lew. 
Oh Diego, as thou lov'st me, nay on the forfeit  
Of thine own life or mine, seal up thy lips,  
Let 'em not name De Cortes, stay, stay, stay,  
Roderigo has into his Father's house  
A passage through a Garden.  Die. 
Yes, my Lord.  Lew. 
Thither I must find Roderigo out,  
And check him, check him home, if he but dare  
No more; Diego along my soul does fight  
A thousand battles blacker than this night.  Exit. Enter Roderigo and Claria. Cla. 
Though the black veil of night hath overclouded  
The World in darkness, yet e'er many hours  
The Sun will rise again, and then this act  
Of my dishonour will appear before you;  
More black then is the Canopy that shrowds it,  
What are you, pray what are you?  Ro. 
hushed, a friend! a friend.  Cla. 
A friend, be then a gentle Ravisher,  
An honourable villain, as you have  
Disrobed my youth of natures goodliest portion,  
My Virgin purity, so with your Sword  
Let out that blood which is infected now,  
By your soul-staining lust.  Ro. 
Pish.  Cla. 
Are you noble?  
I know you then will marry me, say.  Ro. 
Umh.  Cla. 
Not speak to me! are want on devil's dumb?  
How are so many harmless Virgins wrought  
By falsehood of prevailing words to yield  
To easy forfeits of their shames and liberty,  
If every Orator of folly plead  
In silence, like this untongued piece of violence?  
You shall not from me.  Ro. 
Phew no more.  Cla. 
You shall not,  
whoe'er you are, Disease of nature's sloth:  
Birth of some monstrous sin, or scourge of virtue,  
heaven's wrath and mankind's burden, I will hold you,  
I will, be rough and therein merciful,  
I will not lose my hold else.  Ro. 
There, 'tis gold.  Cla. 
Gold, why! alas for what? the hire of pleasure,  
Perhaps is payment, mine is misery;  
I need no wages for a ruined name,  
More than a bleeding heart.  Ro. 
Nay then you're troublesome,  
I'll lock you safe enough.  Exit. Cla. 
They cannot fear  
Whom grief hath armed with hate and scorn of life.  
Revenge I kneel to thee, alas 'gainst whom?  
By what name shall I pull Confusion down  
From Justice on his head that hath betrayed me?  
I know not where I am, up I beseech thee  
Thou Lady regent of the air, the Moon,  
And lead me by thy light to some brave vengeance,  
It is a Chamber sure, the guilty Bed.  
Sad evidence against my loss of honour  
Assures so much, what's here, a window curtain?  
Oh Heaven! the stars appear 'too, ha! a chamber,  
A goodly one, dwells Rape in such a paradise!  
Help me my quickened senses, 'tis a garden  
To which this window guides the covetous prospect,  
A large one and a fair one, in the midst  
A curious Alabaster Fountain stands,  
Framed lifelike what? no matter, swift remembrance,  
Rich furniture within too! and what's this?  
A precious Crucifix? I have enough,  
Assist me oh you powers that guard the innocent.  Enter Roderigo. Ro. 
Now!  Cla. 
Welcome, if you come armed in destruction,  
I am prepared to die.  Ro. 
Tell me your Name,  
And what you are.  Cla. 
You urge me to a sin  
As cruel as your lust, I dare not grant it,  
Think on the violence of my defame,  
And if you mean to write upon my Grave  
An Epitaph of peace, forbear to question,  
Or whence, or who I am; I know the heat  
Of your desires are after the performance  
Of such a hellish act, by this time drowned  
In cooler streams of penance; and for my part  
I have washed off the leprosy that cleaves  
To my just shame, in true and honest tears;  
I must not leave a mention of my wrongs,  
The stain of my unspotted birth to memory,  
Let it lie buried with me in the dust,  
That never time hereafter may report  
How such a one as you have made me live;  
Be resolute, and do not stagger, do not,  
For I am nothing.  Ro. 
Sweet let me enjoy thee  
Now with a free allowance.  Cla. 
Ha, enjoy me!  
Insufferable villain!  Ro. 
Peace: speak low,  
I mean no second force, and since I find  
Such goodness in an unknown frame of virtus:  
Forgive my soul attempt, which I shall grieve for  
So heartily, that could you be yourself  
Eye-witness to my constant vowed repentance,  
Trust me you'd pity me.  Cla. 
Sir, you can speak now.  Ro. 
So much I am the Executioner  
Of mine own trespass, that I have no heart,  
Nor reason to disclose my name or quality;  
You must excuse me that, but trust me (fair one)  
Were this ill deed undone, this deed of wickedness,  
I would be proud to court your love like him,  
Whom my first birth presented to the World: this for your satisfaction,  
What remains, that you can challenge as a service from me?  
I both expect and beg it.  Cla. 
First, that you swear neither  
In riot of your Mirth, in Passion  
Of Friendship, or in folly of Discourse,  
To speak of wrongs done to a ravished Maid.  Ro. 
As I love truth I swear.  Cla. 
Next that you lead me  
near to the place you met me, and there leave me  
To my last fortunes ere the morning rise.  Ro. 
Say more.  Cla. 
Lay a new man, if e'er you marry  
(Oh me! my heart's a breaking) but if e'er  
You marry in a constant love to her  
That shall be then your Wife, redeem the fault  
Of my undoing, I am lost for ever,  
Pray use no more words.  Ro. 
You must give me leave  
To veil you close.  Cla. 
Do what you will, no time  
Can ransom me from sorrows or dishonours,  
Shall we now go?  Ro. 
My shame may live without me,  
But in my soul I bear my guilt about me,  
Lend me your hand, now follow.  Exit. Enter Lewys, Diego, and a servant. Lu. 
Not yet come in, not yet?  Ser. 
No I'll assure your Lordship, I have seldom known  
Him keep out so long, my Lord usually observes  
More seasonable hours.  Lew. 
What time of night is't?  Ser. 
On the stroke of three.  Lew. 
The stroke of three! 'tis wondrous strange!  
Dost hear?  Ser. 
My Lord.  Lew. 
ere six I will be here again,  
Tell thy Lord so: ere six,— a must not sleep,  
Or if 'a do, I shall be bold to wake him:  
Be sure thou tell'st him— do.  Ser. 
My Lord I shall.  Exit. Lew. 
Diego.  
Walk thou the street that leads about the Perado,  
I'll round the West part of the City, meet me  
At the Inquisition Chapel; if we miss him  
we'll both back to his Lodgings.  Die. 
At the Chapel?  Lew. 
I there we'll meet.  Die. 
Agreed, I this way.  Exit. Lewys. Enter Don john Reading. Jo. 
she is not noble, true, wise nature meant  
Affection should enable her descent,  
For love and beauty keeps as rich a seat  
Of sweetness in the mean borne, as the great—  
I am resolved.  Exit. Die. 
'Tis Roderigo certainly,  
Yet his voice makes me doubt, but I'll o'erhear him  Ex. Enter Lewys. Lew. 
That if only I should be the Man  
Made accessary, and a party both  
To mine own torment, at a time so near  
The birth of all those comforts I have traveled with,  
So many, many hours of hopes and fears;  
Now at the instant— Ha, stand! thy name,  
Truly and speedily.  Enter Roderigo. Ro. 
Don Lewis!  Lew. 
The same; but who art thou— speak?  Ro. 
Roderigo.  Lew. 
Tell me,  
As you're a noble Gentleman, as ever  
You hope to be enrolled amongst the virtuous,  
As you love goodness, as you wish to inherit  
The blessedness and fellowship of Angels,  
As you are my friend, as you are Roderigo,  
As you are any thing that would deserve  
A worthy name, where have you been tonight?  
Oh! how have you disposed of that fair Creature  
Whom you led captive from me, speak, oh speak,  
Where, how, when, in what usage have you left her?  
Truth I require all truth.  Ro. 
Though I might question  
The strangeness of your importunity;  
Yet cause I note distraction in the height  
Of curiosity, I will be plain, and brief.  Lu. 
I thank you sir.  Ro. 
Instead of feeding  
Too wantonly upon so rich a Banquet,  
I found even in that beauty that invited me  
Such a commanding majesty of chaste  
And humbly glorious virtue, that it did not  
More check my rash attempt, then draw to ebb  
The float of those desires, which in an instant  
Were cooled in their own streams of shame and folly.  Lu. 
Now all increase of honours.  
Fall in full showers on thee Roderigo,  
The best man living.  Ro. 
You are much transported  
With this discourse methinks.  Lu. 
Yes, I am.  
she told ye her Name too.  Ro. 
I could not urge it  
By any importunity.  Lu. 
Better still;  
Where did you leave her?  Ro. 
Where I found her, farther  
She would by no means grant me to wait on her,  
Oh Luys I am lost.  Lu. 
This selfsame Lady  
Was she to whom I have been long a Suitor,  
And shortly hope to marry.  Ro. 
she your Mistress then? Luys, since friendship,  
And noble honesty conjures our loves  
To a continued league, here I unclasp  
The secrets of my heart. Oh I have had  
A glimpse of such a Creature, that deserves  
A Temple, if thou lov'st her, (and I blame thee not)  
For who can look on her, and not give up  
His life unto her service? if thou lov'st her,  
For pities sake conceal her; let me not  
As much as know her Name, there's a temption in't,  
Let me not know her Dwelling, Birth or Quality,  
Or any thing that she calls hers, but thee  
In thee my friend, I'll see her, and to avoid  
The surfeits and those rarities that tempt me,  
So much I prize the happiness of friendship,  
That I will leave the City.  Lew. 
Leave it.  Ro. 
Speed me!  
For Salamanca, court my studies now  
For Physic 'gainst infection of the mind.  Lew. 
You do amaze me!  Ro. 
Here to live, and live  
Without her, is impossible and wretched.  
For heaven's sake never tell her what I was,  
Or that you know me, and when I find that absence  
Hath lost her to my, memory, I'll dare  
To see ye again mean time the cause that draws me  
From hence, shall be to all the World untold;  
No friend but thou alone, for whose sake only  
I undertake this voluntary exile  
Shall be partaker of my griefs; thy hand  
Farewell: and all the pleasures, joys, contents  
That bless a constant Lover, henceforth crown thee  
A happy Bridegroom.  Lew. 
You have conquered friendship  
Beyond example.  Enter Diego. Die. 
Ha, ha, ha! some one  
That hath slept well tonight, should 'a see me  
Thus merry by myself, might justly think  
I were not well in my wits.  Lew. 
Diego!  Die. 
Yes 'tis I, and I have had a fine fegary,  
The rarest, Wild-goose chase.  Lew. 
'Thad made thee melancholy.  Die. 
Don Roderigo here? 'tis well you met him;  
For though I missed him, yet I met an accident  
Has almost made me burst with laughter.  Lew. 
How so?  Die. 
I'll tell you, as we parted, I perceived  
A walking thing before me strangely tickled  
With rare conceited raptures, him I dogged,  
Supposing 'thad been Roderigo landed  
From his new Pinnace, deep in contemplation  
Of the sweet voyage he stole tonight.  Ro. 
You're pleasant.  Lew. 
Prithee who was't?  Ro. 
Not I.  Die. 
You're i' the right, not you indeed;  
For 'twas that noble Gentleman Don John,  
Son to the Count Francisco de Carcomo.  Lew. 
In love it seems.  Die. 
Yes, peppered on my life,  
Much good may't do him, I'd not be so lined  
For my Cap full of double Pistolets.  Lew. 
What should his Mistress be?  Die. 
That's yet a Riddle  
Beyond my resolution, but of late  
I have observed him oft to frequent  
The sports the Gipsies newly come to th'City present.  Lew. 
'Tis said there is a Creature with'em,  
Though young of years, yet of such absolute beauty,  
Dexterity of wit, and general qualities,  
That Spain reports her not without admiration.  Die. 
Have you seen her?  Lew. 
Never.  Die. 
Nor you my Lord?  Ro. 
I not remember.  Die. 
Why then you never saw the prettiest toy  
That ever Sung or Danced.  Lew. 
Is she a gipsy?  Die. 
In her condition, not in her complexion.  
I tell you once more, 'tis a spark of beauty  
Able to set a World at gaze, the sweetest,  
The wittiest rogue, shall's see 'em? they have fine gambols,  
Are mightily frequented, Court and City  
Flock to 'em, but the Country does 'em worship.  
This little Ape gets money by the sack full,  
It trolls upon her.  Lew. 
Will ye with us friend?  Ro. 
You know my other projects, sights to me  
Are but vexations.  Lew. 
Oh you must be merry,  
Diego, we'll toth' Gipsies.  Die. 
Best take heed  
You be not snapped.  Lew. 
How snapped?  Die. 
By that little Fair,  
'Thas a shrewd tempting Face, and a notable Tongue.  Lew. 
I fear not either.  Die. 
Go then.  Lew. 
will you with us?  Ro. 
I'll come after.  
Pleasure and youth like smiling evils woo us,  
To taste new follies; tasted, they undo us.  Exeunt.  

ACTUS SECUNDUS.  Enter Alvarez, Carlo, and Antonio. Al. 
Come my brave boys, the tailor's shears has cut us into shapes fitting our Trades.  Car. 
A trade free as a mason's.  Ant. 
A trade brave as a courtier's, for some of them do but shark, and so do we.  Al. 
Gipsies, but no tanned ones, no red-ochre rascals umbered with soot and bacon as the English Gipsies are, that sally out upon Pullen, lie in ambuscado for a rope of Onions, as if they were Welsh Freebooters; no, our style has higher steps to climb over, Spanish Gipsies, noble Gipsies.  Car. 
I never knew nobility in baseness.  Alo. 
Baseness! the arts of Cocoquismo, and Germania used by our Spanish Pickeroes (I mean Filching, Foisting, Niming, Jilting) we defy; none in our College shall study 'em, such Graduates we degrade.  An. 
I am glad Spain has an honest company.  Al. 
we'll entertain no mountebanking stroll,  
No Piper, Fidler, Tumbler through small hoops;  
No Ape carrier, Baboon bearer,  
We must have nothing stale, trivial or base:  
Am I your Major domo, your Teniente,  
Your Captain, your Commander?  An. 
Who but you?  Al. 
So then, now being entered Madrill the enchanted Circle of Spain, have a care to your new Lessons.  Both. 
we listen.  Al. 
Blow deep furrows, to catch deep root in th' opinion of the best, Grandoes, Dukes, Marquesses, Condes, and other Titulados, show your sports to none but them, what can you do with 3. or 4. fools in a dish, and a blockhead cut into sippets?  An. 
Scurvy meat.  Al. 
The lacedaemonians threw their Beards over their shoulders, to observe what men did behind them as well as before, you must do.  Both. 
We shall never do't, our muzzles are too short.  Al. 
Be not English Gipsies, in whose company a man's not sure of the ears of his head they so pilfer; no such angling; what you pull to Land catch fair; there is no Iron so foul but may be guilded, and our gipsy profession how base soever in show, may acquire commendations.  Car. 
Gipsies, and yet pick no pockets?  Al. 
Infamous and roguy, so handle your Webs, that they never come to be woven in the Loom of Justice, take any thing that's given you, Purses, Knives, Handkerchers, Rosaries, Tweezes, any toy, any money, refuse not a Marvedi, a blank, Feather by Feather birds build Nests, grain pecked up after grain, makes Pullen fat.  An. 
The best is we Spaniards are no great feeders.  Al. 
If one City cannot maintain us, away to another, our horses must have wings; does Madrill yield no money? Seville shall; is Seville close fisted? Vallidoly is open; so Cordica, so Toledo: do not our Spanish Wines please us? Italian can then, French can, preferments bow is hard to draw, set all your strengths to it, what you get, keep, all the World is a second Rochill, make all sure, for you must not look to have your Dinner served in with Trumpets.  Cor. 
No, no, Sackbuts shall serve us.  Ala. 
When you have money, hide it; sell all our horses but one.  Ant. 
Why one?  Al. 
'Tis enough to carry our apparel and trinkets and the less our ambler eats, our cheer is the better; none be sluttish, none thievish, none lazy, all Bees, no Drones, and our hives shall yield us Honey.  Enter Eugenia, Pretiosa, Christiana, Cardochia. Pre. 
See Father, how I am fitted; how do you like This our new stock of clothes?  Al. 
My sweet Girl excellent; see their old robes be safe.  Card. 
That sir, I'll look to,  
Whilst in my house you lie, what thief soever  
Lays hands upon your goods, call but to me  
I'll make the satisfaction.  Al. 
Thanks good Hostess.  Card. 
People already throng into the Inn,  
And call for you into their private rooms.  Al. 
No Chamber Comedies, Hostess ply you your tide; flow let 'em to a full Sea, but we'll show no pastime till after dinner, and that in a full ring of good people, the best, the noblest, no closet sweet meats, pray tell 'em so.  Card. 
I shall. Exit.  Alu. 
How old is Pretiosa?  Eug. 
Twelve and upwards.  Pre. 
I am in my teens assure you Mother, as little as I am, I have been taken for an Elephant, Castles and Lordships offered to be set upon me, if I would bear 'em; Why your smallest Clocks are the pretiest things to carry about Gentlemen.  Eug. 
Nay Child thou wilt be tempted.  Pre. 
Tempted! though I am no mark in respect of a huge But, yet I can tell you great bubbers have shot at me, and shot golden Arrows, but I myself gave aim, thus; wide, four Bows; short, three and a half; they that crack me shall find me as hard as a Nut of Galicia, a Parrot I am, but my teeth too tender to crack a wantons Almond.  Al. 
Thou art my noble Girl, amany Dons  
Will not believe but that thou art a Boy  
In Women's Clothes, and to try that conclusion  
To see if thou be'st alchemy, or no,  
They'll throw down Gold in muffs, but Pretiosa  
Let these proud Sakers and Jerfalcons fly,  
Do not thou move a wing, be to thyself,  
And not a changeling.  Pre. 
How! not a Changeling!  
Yes Father, I will play the changeling,  
I'll change myself into a thousand shapes  
To court our brave Spectators; I'll change my postures  
Into a thousand different variations,  
To draw even lady's eyes to follow mine;  
I'll change my voice into a thousand tones  
To chain attention; not a changeling Father,  
None but myself shall play the changeling.  Al. 
Do what thou wilt Pretiosa.  
What noise is this?  A beating within. Enter Cardochia. Car. 
Here's Gentlemen swear all the oaths in Spain they have seen you, must see you, and will see you.  Al. 
To drown this noise let 'em enter.  Enter Sancho and Soto. San. 
Is your Playhouse an Inn? a Gentleman cannot see you without crumpling his taffety cloak.  Soto. 
Nay more than a Gentleman, his man being a diminutive Don too.  San. 
Is this the little ape does the fine tricks?  Pre. 
Come aloft Jack little ape!  San. 
Would my Jack might come aloft, please you to set the water Mill, with the Ivory cogs in't a grinding my handful of purging comfits.  Soto. 
My Master desires to have you lose from your company.  Ped. 
Am I a Pigeon think you to be caught with cumin-seeds? a fly to glue my wings to sweetmeats and so be ta'en?  San. 
When do your gambols begin?  Al. 
Not till we ha' dined.  San. 
Foot then your bellies will be so full you'll be able to do nothing, Soto prithee set a good face on't for I cannot, and give the little Monkey that Letter.  Soto. 
Walk off and hum to yourself: I dedicate (sweet destiny, into whose hand every Spaniard desires to put a Distaff) these lines of Love.  Eu. 
What Love, what's the matter?  Soto. 
Grave Mother Bumby the marks out a your mouth.  Al. 
What's the Paper, from whom comes it?  Soto. 
The commodity wrapped up in the Paper, are Verses, the warming Pan that puts heat into 'em, you fire-brained bastard of Helicon.  Al. 
What's your Master's Name?  Soto. 
His name is Don Tomazo Portacareco, Nuncle to young Don Hortado de Mendonza, x german to the Conde de Tindilla, and natural brother to Francisco de Bavadilla, one of the Commendadors of Aleantaro, a Gentleman of long standing.  Pre. 
Verses! I love good ones, let me see 'em.  San. 
Good ones! if they were not good ones, they should not come from me, at the name of Verses I can stand on no ground.  Pre. 
Here's gold too, who's is this?  San. 
who's but yours? if there been any fault in the Verses, I can mend it extempore; for a stitch in a man's stocking not taken up in time ravels out all the rest.  Soto. 
Butcherly Poetry, butcherly.  Pre. 
Verses and gold! these then are golden Verses.  San. 
Had every Verse a Pearl in the eye it should be thine.  Pre. 
A pearl in mine eye! I thank you for that, do you wish me blind?  San. 
I by this light do I, that you may look upon nobody's crime but mine.  Pre. 
I should be blind indeed!  Al. 
Pray Sir read your Verses.  San. 
Shall I sing 'em or say 'em?  Al. 
Which you can best.  Soto. 
Both scurvily.  San. 
I'll set out a throat then.  
Oh that I were a Bee to sing  
Hum buz, buz, hum, I first would bring  
Home Honey to your Hive, and there leave my sting.  Soto. 
He manders.  San. 
Oh that I were a Goose to feed  
At your barn-door, such Corn I need,  
Nor would I bite, but goslings breed.  Soto. 
And Ganders.  San. 
Oh that I were your needle's eye,  
How through your Linen would I fly;  
And never leave one stitch awry!  Soto. 
he'll touse ye.  San. 
Oh would I were one of your hairs,  
That you might comb out all my cares;  
And kill the Nits of my despairs,  Soto. 
Oh Lousy.  San. 
How! Lousy I can Rhymes be Lousy?  Omnes. 
No, no, theyare excellent.  Al. 
But are these all your own?  San. 
Mine own! would I might never see Ink drop out of the nose of any Goose quill more, if velvet Cloaks have not clapped me for 'em, do you like 'em?  Pre. 
Past all compare, they shall be writ out  
When you've as good or better.  
For these and those pray book me down your debtor.  
Your Paper is long lived, having two souls,  
Verses and Gold.  San. 
Would both those were in thee pretty little body, sweets gipsy.  Pre. 
A Pistolet and this Paper, 'twould choke me.  Soto. 
No more than a bribe does a Constable; the Verses will easily into your head, then buy what you like with the Gold, and put it into your belly, I hope I ha' chawed a good reason for you.  San. 
Will you chaw my Jennet ready sir?  Soto. 
And eat him down if you say the word. Exit.  San. 
Now the coxcomb my man is gone, because you're but a Country company of strolls, I think your stock is threadbare, here mend it with this Cloak.  Al. 
What do you mean sir?  San. 
This Scarf, this Feather, and this Hat.  Omnes. 
Dear Signior.  San. 
If they be never so dear, pox o' this hot Ruff; little gipsy, wear thou that.  Al. 
Your meaning sir.  San. 
My meaning is not to be an Ass, to carry a burden when I need not, if you show your Gambols forty Leagues hence, I'll gallop to 'em; Farewell old Graybeard, adieu Mother Mumblecrust, morrow my little Wart of beauty. Exit.  Enter Don John Muffled. Al. 
So harvest will come in, such Sunshine days Will bring in golden sheaves, our Markets raise, Away to your task. Exit. Don John pulls Pretiosa back.  Pre. 
Mother, Grandmother!  Jo. 
Two rows of Kindred in one mouth!  Eu. 
Be not uncivil sir, thus have you used her thrice.  Jo. 
Thrice! three thousand more: may I not use mine own?  Pre. 
Your own! by what tenure?  Jo. 
Cupid entails this Land upon me, I have wooed thee, thou are coy, by this air I am a Bull of Tarisa, wild, mad for thee: you told I was some copper coin, I am a Knight of Spain, Don Francisco de Carcomo my Father, I DONE John his Son, this paper tells you more, grumble not old Granam, (here's gold) for I must by this white hand, marry this cherry-lipped, sweet-mouthed villain.  Pre. 
There's a thing called quando.  Jo. 
Instantly.  Eu. 
Art thou so willing?  Jo. 
Peace threescore and five.  Pre. 
Marry me! eat a Chicken ere it be out o'th' shell! I'll wear no shackles, liberty is sweet; that I have, that I'll hold, marry me! can Gold and Lead mix together? a diamond, & a button of Crystal fit one ring? you are too high for me, I am too low; you too great, I too little.  Eu. 
I pray leave her sir, and take your Gold again.  Pre. 
Or if you dote, as you say, let me try you do this.  Jo. 
Any thing, kill the great Turk, pluck out the mogul's Eyeteeth; in earnest Pretiosa any thing!  Pre. 
Your taste is soon set down, turn gipsy for two years, be one of us, if in that time you mislike not me, nor I you, here's my hand farewell.  Eu. 
There's enough for your Gold, witty Child. Exit.  Jo. 
Turn gipsy I for two years! a capering Trade.  
And I in th'end may keep a dancing School,  
Having served for't, gipsy! I must turn,  
Oh beauty! the sun's fires cannot so burn.  Exit. Enter Clara. Cla. 
I have offended, yet oh Heaven! thou know'st  
How much I have abhorred even from my birth,  
A thought that tended to immodest folly;  
Yet I have fallen, thoughts with disgraces strive,  
And thus I live, and thus I die alive.  Enter Pedro, and Maria. Pe. 
Fie Clara, thou dost court calamity too much.  Ma. 
Yes Girl, thou dost.  Pe. 
Why should we fret our eyes out with our tears?  
Weary complaints, 'tis fruitless, childish,  
Impatience, for when mischief hath wound up  
The full weight of the Ravishers foul Life,  
To an equal height of ripe iniquity,  
The poise will by degrees, sink down his Soul  
To a much lower, much more lasting ruin  
Then our joint wrongs can challenge.  Ped. 
Darkness itself  
Will change nights sable brow, into a Sunbeam  
For a discovery, and be sure  
whenever we can learn what monster 'twas  
Hath robbed thee of the Jewel held so precious,  
Our vengeance shall be noble.  Pe. 
Royal, any thing;  
Till then let's live securely: to proclaim  
Our sadness were mere vanity.  Cla. 
'a needs not,  
I'll study to be merry.  Pe. 
We are punished  
Maria justly, covetousness to match  
Our Daughter to that matchless piece of ignorance,  
Our foolish Ward, hath drawn this curse upon us.  Ma. 
I fear it has!  Pe. 
Off with this face of grief.  Enter Lewys, and Diego. Die. 
Here comes Don Lewis; noble sir.  Lew. 
My Lord,  
I trust I have you and your lady's leave  
To exchange a word with your fair Daughter.  Pe. 
Leave and welcome, hark Maria, your ear too.  Die. 
Mine my Lord.  Lew. 
Dear Clara, I have often sued for Love,  
And now desire you would at last be pleased  
To style me yours.  Cla. 
Mine eyes ne'er saw that Gentleman  
Whom I more nobly in my heart respected,  
Than I have you, yet you must Sir excuse me,  
If I resolve to use a while that freedom  
My younger days allow.  Lew. 
But shall I hope?  Cla. 
You will do injury to better fortunes  
To your own Merit, Greatness, and Advancement,  
Which I beseech you not to slack.  Lew. 
Then hear me,  
If ever I embrace another choice,  
Until I know you elsewhere matched, may all  
The chief of my Desires find scorn and ruin.  Cla. 
Oh me!  Lew. 
Why sigh you Lady?  Cla. 
Deed my Lord I am not well.  Lew. 
Then all Discourse is tedious,  
I'll choose some fitter time; till when fair Clara.—  Cla. 
You shall not be unwelcome hither sir;  
That's all that I dare promise.  Lew. 
Diego!  Die. 
My Lord!  Lew. 
What says Don Pedro?  Die. 
he'll go with you.  Lew. 
Leave us:  
Shall I my Lord, entreat your privacy?  Pe. 
Withdraw Maria, we'll follow presently,  Exit. Lew. 
The great corregidor, whose politic stream  
Of popularity, glides on the shore  
Of every vulgar praise, hath often urged me  
To be a Suitor to his Catholic Majesty,  
For a repeal from banishment for him  
Who slew my Father, compliments in vows,  
And strange well studied promises of friendship,  
But what is new to me, still as he Courts  
Assistance for Alvarez my grand enemy,  
Still he protests how ignorant he is,  
Whether Alvarez be alive or dead?  
Tomorrow is the day we have appointed  
For meeting at the Lord Francisco's house,  
The Earl of Carcomo; now my good Lord,  
The sum of my request is, you will please  
To lend your presence there, and witness wherein  
Our joint accord consists.  Ped. 
You shall command it.  Lew. 
But first as you are noble, I beseech you  
Help me with your advice, what you conceive  
Of great Fernando's importunity,  
Or whether you imagine that Alvarez  
Survive or not?  Pe. 
It is a question sir  
Beyond my resolution, I remember  
The difference betwixt your noble Father,  
And Conde de Alvarez, how it sprung  
From a mere trifle first, a cast of Hawks,  
Whose made the swifter flight, whose could mount highest,  
Lie longest on the wing. From change of words  
Their controversy grew to blows, from blows  
To Parties, thence to Faction, and in short  
I well remember how our streets were frighted  
With brawls, whose end was blood, till when no friends  
Could mediate their discords: by the King  
A reconciliation was enforced,  
Death threatened the first occasioner  
Of breach, besides the confiscation  
Of Lands and Honours, yet at last they met  
Again; again they drew to sides, renewed  
Their ancient quarrel, in which dismal uproar  
Your Father hand to hand fell by Alvarez,  
Alvarez fled, and after him the doom  
Of exile was set out; He as Report  
Was bold to voice, retired himself to Rhodes,  
His Lands and Honours by the King bestowed  
On you, but then an Infant.  Lew. 
Ha, an Infant!  Pe. 
His Wife the sister to the corregidor,  
With a young Daughter, and some few that followed her  
By stealth were shipped for Rhodes, and by a storm  
Shipwrecked at Sea, but for the banished Conde,  
'Twas never yet known what became of him,  
Here's all I can inform you.  Lew. 
A repeal,  
Yes, I will sue for't, beg for't, buy it, any thing  
That may by possibility of friends,  
Or Money, I'll attempt.  Pe. 
'Tis a brave charity.  Lew. 
Alas poor Lady, I could mourn for her!  
Her loss was Usury more than I covet;  
But for the Man, I'd sell my patrimony  
For his repeal, and run about the World  
To find him out, there is no peace can dwell  
About my Father's Tomb, till I have sacrificed  
Some portion of revenge to his wronged ashes.  
You will along with me?  Pe. 
You need not question it.  Lew. 
I have strange thoughts about me, two such furies  
Revel amidst my joys as well may move  
Distraction in a Saint, Vengeance and Love,  
I'll follow sir.  Pe. 
Pray lead the way: you know it.  Exit. Enter Sancho, and Soto. Soto. 
How now! from whence come you sir?  San. 
From flaying myself sir.  Soto. 
From playing with fencer's sir, and they have beat him out of his Clothes sir.  Pe. 
Cloak, Band, Rapier, all lost at Dice!  San. 
Nor Cards neither.  Soto. 
This was one of my Master's dog-days, and he would not sweat too much.  San. 
It was mine own Goose, and I laid the giblets upon another Coxcomb's trencher, you are my Guardian, best beg me for a fool now.  Soto. 
He that begs one begs t'other.  Pe. 
Does any Gentleman give away his things thus?  San. 
Yes, and Gentlewomen give away their things too.  Soto. 
To Gulls sometimes, and are coney-catched for their labour.  Pe. 
Wilt thou ever play the Coxcomb?  San. 
If no other parts be given me, what would you have me do?  Pe. 
Thy Father was as brave a Spaniard  
As ever spoke the haute Castilian Tongue.  San. 
Put me in Clothes, I'll be as brave as he.  Pe. 
This is the ninth time thou hast played the Ass,  
Flinging away thy trappings and thy cloth  
To cover others, and go naked thyself.  San. 
I'll make 'em up ten, because I'll be even with you.  Pe. 
Once more your broken walls shall have new hangings.  Soto. 
To be well hung, is all our desire.  Pe. 
And what course take you next?  San. 
What course? why my man Soto and I will go make some maps.  Pe. 
What maps?  Soto. 
Not such Maps as you wash houses with, but Maps of Countries.  San. 
I have an Uncle in Seville, I'll go see him, an Aunt in Sienna in Italy, I go see her.  Soto. 
A x of mine in Rome, I go to him with a Mortar.  San. 
There's a Courtesan in Venice, I'll go tickle her.  Soto. 
Another in England; I'll go tackle her.  Pe. 
So, so, and where's the money to do all this?  San. 
If my wooks being cut down cannot fill this Pocket, cut 'em into Trapsticks.  Soto. 
And if his Acres being sold for a Marvedi, a Turf for marks in Cages, cannot fill this Pocket, give 'em to Gold-finders.  Pe. 
You'll gallop both to the Gallows, so fare you well.  Exit. San. 
And be hanged you, new clothes you'd best.  Soto. 
four cloaks, that you may give away three, and keep one.  San. 
we'll live as merrily as beggars, let's both turn Gipsies.  Soto. 
By any means, if they cog we'll lie, if they toss we'll tumble.  San. 
Both in a belly, rather than fail.  Soto. 
Come then, we'll be Gipsified.  San. 
And tipsified too.  Soto. 
And we will show such tricks, and such rare gambols.  
As shall put down the Elephant and Camels.  Exeunt.  

ACTUS TERTIUS.  Enter Roderigo Disguised like an Italian. Ro. 
A thousand stings are in me! oh what vild prisons  
Make we our bodies, to our immortal souls!  
Brave Tenants to bad houses! 'tis a dear rent  
They pay for naughty Lodging: the soul, the Mistress,  
The body, the caroche that carries her,  
Sins the swift wheels that hurry her away;  
Our Will the Coachman rashly driving on,  
Till Coach and Carriage both are quite o'er thrown;  
My body yet scapes bruises, that known thief  
Is not yet called toth' bar, there's no true sense  
Of pain, but what the Law of conscience  
Condemns us to, I feel that, who would lose  
A Kingdom for a Cottage? an Estate  
Of perpetuity, for a man's Life?  
For annuity of that Life (pleasure) a spark  
To those Celestial fires that burn about us!  
A painted Star to that bright Firmament  
Of constellations, which each night are set  
Lighting our way, yet thither how few get?  
How many thousand in Madrill drink off  
The cup of lust, (and laughing) in one month  
Not whining as I do? should this sad Lady  
Now meet me, do I know her? should this Temple  
(By me profaned) lie in the ruins here,  
The pieces would scarce show her me:— would they did  
she's Mistress to Don Lewis— by his steps,  
And this disguise I'll find her; to Salamanca  
Thy Father thinks thouart gone; no close here stay  
where'er thou travel'st, Scorpions stop thy way: these.  Enter Sancho, and Soto as Gipsies. San. 
Soto, how do I show?  Soto. 
Like a rusty Armour new scoured, but Master how show I?  San. 
Like an Ass with a new piebald saddle on his back.  Soto. 
If the Devil were a tailor, he would scarce know us in these gaberdines.  San. 
If a tailor were the Devil, I'd not give a Louse for him, if he should bring up this fashion amongst Gentlemen, and make it common.  Ro. 
The freshness of the Morning be upon you both.  San. 
The saltness of the Evening be upon you single.  Ro. 
Be not displeased, that I abruptly thus  
Break in upon your favours, your strange habits  
Invite me with desire, to understand  
Both what you are, and whence, because no Country  
(And I have measured some) show me your like.  Soto. 
Our like! no we should be sorry, we or our clothes should be like fish, new, stale, and stinking in three days.  San. 
If you ask whence we are, we are Egyptian Spaniards; if what, we are, ut, re, mi, fa, sol. jugglers, Tumblers, any thing anywhere, everywhere.  Ro. 
A good fate hither leads me by the hand,  
Your quality I love, the scenical School  
Has been my Tutor long in Italy,  
(For that's my Country,) there have I put on  
Sometimes the shape of a Comedian,  
And now and then some other.  San. 
A Player! a brother of the tiring house.  Soto. 
A Bird of the same feather.  San. 
Welcome, wilt turn gipsy?  Ro. 
I can nor Dance, nor Sing, but if my Pen  
From my invention can strike Music tunes,  
My head and brains are yours.  Soto. 
A calf's head and brains were better for my stomach.  San. 
A rib of Poetry.  Soto. 
A modicum of the Muses, a horse-shoe of Helicon.  San. 
A magpie of Parnassin, welcome again, I am a firebrand of Phoebus myself, we'll invoke together, so you will not steal my Plot.  Ro. 
'Tis not my fashion.  San. 
But now adays 'tis all the fashion.  Soto. 
What was the last thing you writ, a Comedy?  Ro. 
No 'twas a sad, too sad a Tragedy.  
Under these eaves I'll shelter me.  San. 
See here comes our company,  
Do our tops spin as you would have 'em?  Soto. 
If not whip us round.  San. 
I sent you a Letter to tell you we were upon a march.  Enter Alvarez, Eugenia, Pretiosa, and the Gipsies. Al. 
And you are welcome— yet these fools will trouble us.  Eu. 
Rich fools shall buy our trouble.  San. 
Hang Lands, it's nothing but Trees, Stones and Dirt, old Father I have Gold to keep up our stock, precious Pretiosa, for whose sake I have thus transformed myself out of a Gentleman into a gipsy, thou shalt not want sweet Rhymes my little Musk-cat, for besides myself here's an Italian Poet, on whom I pray throw your welcomes.  Omnes. 
he's welcome!  Pre. 
Sir, you're most welcome, I love a Poet,  
So he writes chastely, if your Pen can sell me  
Any smooth quaint Romances, which I may sing,  
You shall have bays and Silver.  Ro. 
Pretty heart no selling:  
What comes from me is free.  San. 
And me too.  Al. 
We shall be glad to use you sir, our sports  
Must be an Orchard bearing several Trees  
And Fruits of several taste; one pleasure dulls.  
A time may come, when we (besides these pastimes)  
May from the Grandoes and the Dons of Spain  
Have leave to try our skill even on the Stage,  
And then your wits may help us.  San. 
And mine too.  Ro. 
They are your servants.  Pre. 
Trip softly through the streets, till we arrive  
You know at whose house Father.  San. 

Song.  

Trip it Gipsies, trip it fine,  
Show tricks and lofty Capers;  
At threading Needles we repine,  
And leaping over Rapiers.  
Pindy Pandy rascal toys,  
We scorn cutting Purses,  
Though we live by making noise,  
For cheating none can curse us.   

Over Highways, over low,  
And over Stones and Gravel,  
Though we trip it on the Toe,  
And thus for Silver travel.  
Though our Dances waste our backs,  
At night fat Capons mend them;  
Eggs well brewed in buttered-sack,  
Our Wenches say befriend them.   

Oh that all the World were mad,  
Then should we have fine Dancing,  
Hobby horses would be had,  
And brave Girls keep a prancing,  
Beggars would on Cockhorse ride,  
And Boobies fall a roaring,  
And Cuckolds though no horns be spied,  
Be one another goring.   

Welcome Poet to our Ging,  
Make Rhymes we'll give thee reason,  
Canary Bees thy brains shall sting  
Mull-sack did ne'er speak Treason.  
Peter-see-me shall wash thy noll,  
And maligo Glasses fox thee,  
If Poet thou toss not bowl for bowl  
Thou shalt not kiss a Doxy.    Exit. Enter Fernando, Francisco de Carcomo, Don john Pedro, Maria, Lewys, and Diego. Fer. 
Lewis de Castro, since you circled are  
In such a golden Ring of worthy friends,  
Pray let me question you about that business  
You and I last conferred on.  Lew. 
My Lord I wish it.  Fer. 
Then Gentlemen though you all know this man,  
Yet now look on him well, and you shall find  
Such mines of Spanish honour in his bosom,  
As but in few are treasured.  Lew. 
Oh my good Lord!  Fer. 
he's Son to that de Castro, o'er whose Tomb  
Fame stands writing a book which will take up  
The age of time to fill it with the stories  
Of his great acts, and that his honoured Father  
Fell in the quarrel of those Families  
His own, and Don Alvarez de Castilla.  Fra. 
The volume of those Families is too large,  
And too wide Printed in our memory.  Lew. 
Would it had ne'er come forth.  Omnes. 
So wish we all.  Fer. 
But here's a Son as matchless as the Father,  
For he minds bravery: he lets blood his Spleen,  
Tears out the Leaf in which the Picture stands  
Of slain de Castro, casts a Hill of Sand  
On all revenge, and stifles it.  Omnes. 
'Tis done nobly.  Fer. 
For I by him am courted to solicit  
The King for the repeal of poor Alvarez,  
Who lives a banished man some say in Naples,  Pe. 
Some say in Arragon.  Lew. 
No matter where,  
That Paper folds in it my hand and heart,  
Petitioning the royalty of Spain  
To free the good old man, and call him home;  
But what hope hath your Lordship that these beams  
Of grace shall shine upon me?  Fer. 
The word Royal!  Omnes. 
And that's enough.  Lew. 
Then since this sluice is drawn up to increase  
The stream, with pardon of these honoured friends  
Let me set ope another, and that's this,  
That you my Lord Don Pedro, (and this Lady  
Your noble Wife) would in this fair assembly  
(If still you hold me Tenant to your favour)  
Repeal the promise, you so oft have made me,  
Touching the beauteous Clara for my Wife.  Pe. 
What I possess in her before these Lords  
I freely once more give you.  Al. 
And what's mine?  
To you (as right heir to it) I resign.  Omnes. 
What would you more?  Lew. 
What would I more? the tree bows down his head  
Gently to have me touch it, but when I offer  
To pluck the fruit, the top branch grows so high  
To mock my reaching hand, up it does fly;  
I have the Mother's smile, the daughter's frown.  Omnes. 
Oh you must woo hard!  Fer. 
Woo her well she's thine own.  Jo. 
That Law holds not 'mongst Gipsies, I shoot hard,  
And am wide off from the Mark.  flourish. Enter Soto, with a Cornet in his hand. Fer. 
Is this my Lord your Music?  Fra. 
None of mine.  Soto. 
A crew of Gipsies with desire,  
To show their sports are at your Gates afire.  Fra. 
How, how, my Gates afire Knave!  Jo. 
Art panting? I am afire I'm sure!  Fer. 
What are the things they do?  Soto. 
They Frisk, they Caper, Dance and Sing,  
Tell fortunes too (which is a very fine thing)  
They tumble— how? not up and down  
As Tumblers do, but from Town to Town.  
Antics they have, and Gipsy-masking,  
And toys which you may have for asking;  
They come to devour, nor Wine, nor good Cheer,  
But to earn money, if any be here.  
(But being asked, as I suppose,  
Your answer will be in your t'other hose)  
For there's not a gipsy amongst'em that begs,  
But gets his living by his Tongue and Legs.  
If therefore you please Dons they shall come in,  
Now I have ended, let them begin.  Omnes. 
ay, ay, by any means.  Fra. 
But fellow bring you Music along with you too.  Soto. 
Yes my Lord, both loud Music, and still Music, the loud is that which you have heard, and the still is that which no man can hear. Exit.  Fer. 
A fine Knave.  Fra. 
There is report of a fair gipsy,  
A pretty little toy, whom all our Gallants  
In Madrill flock to look on: this she trow?  
Yes sure 'tis she— I should be sorry else.  Enter Alvarez, Eugenia, Pretiosa, Roderigo, Sancho, Soto, and all the Gipsies. 

Song.  

1.  
Come follow your Leader follow  
Our Convoy be Mars and Apollo,  
The Van comes brave up here,  
Ans. As hotly comes the Rear.  
Omn. Our Knackers are the Fifes and Drums,  
Sa, sa, the Gipsies Army comes.   

2.  
Horsemen we need not fear  
There's none but footmen here;  
The Horse sure charge without;  
Or if they wheel about,  
Omn. Our Knackers are the shot that fly  
Pit a pat rattling in the Sky.   

3.  
If once the great Ordnance play  
That's laughing, yet run not away;  
But stand the push of Pike  
Scorn can but basely strike.  
Omn. Then let our Armies join and sing  
And pit a pat make our Knackers ring.   

4.  
Arm, Arm, what Bands are those?  
They cannot be sure our foes;  
we'll not draw up our force,  
Nor muster any Horse,  
Omn. For since they pleased to view our sight  
Let's this way, this way, give delight.   

5.  
A Council of War let's call,  
Look either to stand or fall;  
If our weak Army stands  
Thank all these noble hands;  
Whose gates of Love being open thrown  
We enter, and then the Town's our own.    Fer. 
A very dainty thing.  Fra. 
A handsome Creature.  Ro. 
Look what a pretty pit there's in her chin.  Jo. 
Pity 'tis a Grave to bury Lovers in.  Ro. 
My Father's disguise guard me.  San. 
Soto, there's de Cortez my guardian; but he smells not us.  Soto. 
Peace brother gipsy, would any one here know his fortune?  Omnes. 
Good fortunes all of us.  Pe. 
'Tis I sir needs a good one, come sir what's mine?  Ma. 
Mine and my husband's fortunes keep together,  
Who is't tells mine?  San. 
ay, ay, hold up Madam, fear not your pocket, for I ha' but two Hands.  
You are sad, or mad, or glad  
For a couple of Cocks that cannot be had,  
Yet when abroad they have picked store of grains  
Doodle do they will cry on your Dunghills again.  Ma. 
Indeed I miss an idle Gentleman,  
And a thing of his a fool, but neither sad  
Nor mad for them, would that were all the Lead  
Lying at my heart.  Ped. 
What look'st thou on so long?  Soto. 
So long I do you think good fortunes are fresh Herrings, to come in shoals? bad fortunes are like Mackerel at Midsummer, you have had a sore loss of late.  Pe. 
I have indeed, what is't?  Soto. 
I wonder it makes you not mad; for  
Through a gap in your Ground  
Thence late hath been stole  
A very fine Ass, and a very fine foal,  
Take heed for I speak not by habs and by nabs,  
ere long you'll be horribly troubled with scabs.  Pe. 
I am now so, go silly fool.  Soto. 
I ha' gin't him.  San. 
Oh Soto, that Ass and Foal fattens me!  Fer. 
The Mother of the Gipsies, what can she do?  
I'll have about with her.  Jo. 
I with the gipsy Daughter.  Fra. 
To her Boy I  Eu. 
From you went a Dove away  
Which ere this had been more white,  
Than the silver Robe of, Day,  
Her Eyes the Moon has none so bright.  
Sat she now upon your hand  
Not the Crown of Spain could buy it;  
But 'tis flown to such a Land,  
Never more shall you come nigh it;  
Ha! yes if Palmistry tell true,  
This Dove again may fly to you.  Fer. 
Thou art a lying Witch, I'll hear no more.  San. 
If you be so hot sit, we can cool you with a Song.  Soto. 
And when that Song's done, we'll heat you again with a dance.  Lew. 
Stay dear sir, send for Clara, let her know her fortune:  Ma. 
'Tis too well known.  Lew. 
'Twill make her merry to be in this brave Company.  Pe. 
Good Diego fetch her.  Exit Diego. Fra. 
What's that old man! has he cunning too?  Omnes. 
More than all we.  Lew. 
Has he! I'll try his Spectacles.  Fer. 
Ha! Roderigo there! the Scholar  
That went to Salamanca, takes he degrees  
I'th' School of Gipsies? let the fish alone,  
Give him Line, this is the Dove, the Dove: the Raven  
That Beldame mocked me with.  Low. 
What Worms pick you out there now?  Al. 
This— when this Line the other crosses  
Art tells me 'tis a book of losses,  
Bend your hand thus, Oh! here I find  
You have lost a Ship in a great wind.  Lew. 
Lying Rogue I ne'er had any.  Al. 
Hark, as I gather,  
That great Ship was de Castro called your Father.  Lew. 
And I must hew that Rock that split him.  Al. 
Nay and you threaten.  Fra. 
And what's Don John thy fortune? thouart long fumbling at it?  Jo. 
she tells me tales of the Moon sir.  Pre. 
And now 'tis come to the Sun sir.  
Your Sun would ride, the youth would run,  
The youth would sail, the youth would fly;  
he's tying a knot will ne'er be done,  
He shoots, and yet has ne'er an eye.  
You have two, 'twere good you lent him one,  
And a heart too, for he has none.  Fra. 
Heyday, lend one of mine eyes!  San. 
They give us nothing, he'd best put on a bold face and ask it.  

Song.  

Now that from the Hive  
You gathered have the Honey,  
Our Bees but poorly thrive,  
Unless the Banks be sunny.  
Then let your Sun and Moon  
Your gold and silver shine,  
My thanks shall humming fly to you.  
Omnes .And mine, and mine, and mine.   Al. 

See, see, your gipsy toys,  
You mad Girls, you merry Boys.  
A boon voyage we have made  
Loud Peals must then be had,  
If I a gipsy be  
A crack rope I am for thee;  
Oh here's a Golden Ring,  
Such clappers please a King;  
Such clappers please a King: you pleased may pass away  
Then let your Bell-ropes stay,  
Now chime 'tis Holiday,  
Now chime 'tis Holiday.    Pre. 
No more of this pray Father, fall to your Dancing. Dance.  Lew. 
Clara will come too late now.  Fer. 
'Tis great pity,  
Besides your Songs, Dances and other Pastimes,  
You do not as our Spanish Actors do, make trial of a Stage.  Al. 
We are sir about it,  
So please your high authority to sign us  
Some warrant to confirm us.  Fer. 
My hand shall do't— and bring the best in Spain to see your Sports.  Al. 
Which to set off this Gentleman a Scholar  Ro. 
Pox on you.  Al. 
Will write for us:  Fer. 
A Spaniard sir?  Ro. 
No my Lord an Italian.  Fer. 
Denies his Country too— my Son sings gipsy Ballads,  
Keep as you are, we'll see your poet's vain,  
And yours for playing; time is not ill spent  
That's thus laid out in harmless merriment.  Exit Gipsies Dancing. Pe. 
My Lord of Carcomo, for this entertainment,  
You shall command our loves.  Fra. 
You're nobly welcome.  Pe. 
The Evening grows upon us, Lords to all  
A happy time of day.  Fer. 
The like to you Don Pedro.  Lew. 
To my hearts sole Lady,  
Pray let my service humbly be remembered,  
We only missed her presence.  Ma. 
I shall truly  
Report your worthy love.  Exit Ped. Ma. Fer. 
You shall no further,  
Indeed my Lords you shall not.  Fra. 
With your favour  
we will attend you home.  Enter Diego. Die. 
Where's Don Pedro? oh sir!  Lew. 
Why what's the matter?  Die. 
The Lady Clara,  
Passing near to my Lord Corigidor's house,  
Met with a strange mischance.  Fer. 
How, what mischance?  Die. 
The Jester that so late arrived at Court,  
And there was welcome for his country's sake,  
By importunity of some friends, it seems  
Had borrowed from the Gentleman of your Horse,  
The backing of your mettled Barbary:  
On which being mounted, whilst a number gazed  
To hear what Jests he could perform on Horse back,  
The head strong beast unused to such a Rider,  
Bears the Press of People before him;  
With which throng, the Lady Clara meeting,  
Fainted, and there fell down; not bruised I hope;  
But frighted and entranced.  Lew. 
Ill destined mischief!  Fer. 
Where have you left her?  Die. 
At your house my Lord,  
A servant coming forth, and knowing who  
The Lady was, conveyed her to a Chamber,  
A Surgeon too is sent for.  Fer. 
Had she been my Daughter,  
My care could not be greater, than it shall be  
For her recure.  Lew. 
But if she miscarry,  
I am the most unhappy Man that lives.  Exit. Fer. 
Diego Coast about the Fields,  
And overtake Don Pedro and his Wife,  
They newly parted from us.  Die. 
I'll run speedily.  Exit. Fer. 
A strange mischance, but what!  
I have my Lord Francisco this day noted,  
I may tell you, an accident of merriment and wonders  Fra. 
Indeed my Lord.  Fer. 
I have not thoughts enough  
About me to imagine what th'event  
Can come to, 'tis indeed about my Son;  
Hereafter you may counsel me.  Fra. 
Most gladly— how fares the Lady?  Enter Lewys. Lew. 
Called back to Life, but full of sadness.  Fer. 
Talks she nothing?  Lew. 
Nothing, for when the women that attend on her  
Demanded how she did, she turned about,  
And answered with a sigh, when I came near,  
And by the Love I bore her, begged a word  
Of hope to comfort me in her well-doing;  
Before she would reply, from her fair Eyes  
She greets me with a Bracelet of her tears;  
Then wished me not to doubt, she was too well,  
Entreats that she may sleep without disturbance,  
Or company until her Father came.  
And thus I left her.  Fra. 
For she's past the worst,  
Young Maids are oft so troubled.  Enter Pedro and Maria. Fer. 
Here come they  
You talk of— sir, your Daughter for your comfort  
Is now upon amendment.  Ma. 
Oh my Lord!  
You speak an angel's voice.  Fer. 
Pray in and visit her.  Exit Ped. Ma. 
I'll follow instantly— you shall not part  
Without a cup of Wine my Lord.  Fra. 
'Tis now too troublesome a time;  
Which way take you Don Lewis?  Lew. 
No matter which, for till I hear  
My Clara be recovered I am nothing,  
My Lord corregidor, I am your servant  
For this free entertainment.  Fer. 
You have conquered me  
In noble courtesy.  Lew. 
Oh! that no art  
But Love itself can cure a Love-sick heart.  Exit. Clara in a Chair, Pedro and Maria by her. Ma. 
Clara, hope of mine age!  Ped. 
Soul of my comfort,  
Kill us not both at once; why dost thou speed  
Thine Eye in such a progress 'bout these Walls?  Cla. 
Yond large Window  
Yields some fair prospect, good my Lord look out,  
And tell me what you see there.  Pe. 
Easy suit,  
Clara it overviews a spacious Garden,  
Amidst which stands an Alabaster Fountain,  
A goodly one.  Cla. 
Indeed my Lord.  Ma. 
The griefs grow wide,  
And will mislead thy judgement through thy weakness  
If thou obey thy weakness.  Cla. 
Who owns these glorious buildings?  Pe. 
Don Fernando  
De Azeutda, the corregidor  
Of Mardrill, a true noble Gentleman.  Cla. 
May I not see him?  Ma. 
See him Clara, why?  Cla. 
A truly noble Gentleman you said sir.  Pe. 
I did: lo here he comes in person,  
We are my Lord your servants.  Enter Fernando. Fer. 
Good no compliment,  
Young Lady there attends below a Surgeon  
Of worthy fame and practice, is't your pleasure  
To be his Patient?  Cla. 
With your favour sir,  
May I impart some few, but needful words  
Of secrecy to you, to you yourself,  
None but yourself.  Fer. 
You may.  Pe. 
Must I not hear 'em?  Ma. 
Nor I.  Cla. 
Oh yes, pray sit my Lord.  Fer. 
Say on.  Cla. 
You have been Married.  Fer. 
To a Wife young Lady,  
Who whiles the Heavens did lend her me was fruitful  
In all those virtues which styles Woman good.  Cla. 
And you had Children by her.  Fer. 
Had 'tis true,  
Now have but one, a Son, and he yet lives,  
The Daughter, as if in her Birth, the Mother  
Had perfected the errand she was sent for  
Into the World, from that hour took her Life  
In which the other that gave it her, lost hers;  
Yet shortly she unhappily, but fatally  
Perished at Sea.  Cla. 
Sad story!  Fer. 
Roderigo,  
My Son.  Cla. 
How is he called fit?  Fer. 
Roderigo.  
He lives at Salamanca, and I fear  
That neither Time, Persuasions nor his Fortunes  
Can draw him thence.  Cla. 
My Lord, d''ee know this Crucifix?  Fer. 
You drive me to amazement, 'twas my Sons,  
A Legacy bequeathed him from his Mother  
Upon her Deathbed, dear to him as Life;  
On Earth there cannot be another treasure  
He values at like rate as he does this.  Cla. 
Oh then I am a castaway!  Ma. 
How's that?  Pe. 
Alas she will grow frantic.  Cla. 
In my bosom,  
Next to my Heart my Lord I have laid up,  
In bloody Characters a Tale of horror,  
Pray read the Paper, and if there you find  
Ought that concerns a Maid undone, and miserable  
Made so by one of yours, call back the piety  
Of nature, to the goodness of a Judge,  
An upright Judge, not of a partial Father,  
For do not wonder that I live to suffer  
Such a full weight of wrongs, but wonder rather  
That I have lived to speak them; thou great man  
Yet read, read on, and as thou readest consider  
What I have suffered, what thou ought'st to do;  
Thine own Name, Fatherhood, and my dishonour  
Be just as Heaven and fate are, that by miracle  
Have in my weakness wrought a strange discovery;  
Truth copied from my heart is texted there:  
Let now my shame be throughly understood,  
Sins are heard farthest, when they cry in blood.  Fer. 
True, true, they do not cry but hollow here,  
This is the Trumpet of a Soul drowned deep  
In the unfathomed Seas of matchless sorrows.  
I must lock fast the door.  Exit. Ma. 
I have no words  
To call for vengeance.  Pe. 
I am lost in marvel.  Enter Fernando. Fer. 
Sir, pray fit as you sat before: white paper  
This should be innocence, these Letters Gules  
Should be the honest Oracles of Revenge.  
What's Beauty but a perfect white and red?  
Both here well mixed, limne truth so beautiful,  
That to distrust it as I am a Father;  
Speaks me as foul, as rape hath spoken my Son,  
'Tis true.  Cla. 
'Tis true.  Fer. 
Then mark me how I kneel  
Before the high tribunal of your Injuries;  
Thou too too much wronged Maid scorn not my tears,  
For these are tears of Rage, not tears of Love.  
Thou Father of this too too much wronged Maid,  
Thou Mother of her counsels and her cares;  
I do not plead for pity to a Villain,  
Oh! let him die as he hath lived dishonourably,  
Basely and cursedly, I plead for pity,  
To my till now untainted blood and honour,  
Teach me how I may now be just and cruel;  
For henceforth I am Childless.  Cla. 
Pray sir rise,  
You wrong your place and age.  Fer. 
Point me my Grave  
In some obscure by path, where never memory  
Nor mention of my Name may be found out.  Cla. 
My Lord, I can weep with you, nay weep for ye  
As you for me, your passions are instructions,  
And prompt my faltering Tongue to beg at least  
A noble satisfaction, though not revenge.  Fer. 
Speak that again.  Cla. 
Can you procure no Balm  
To heal a wounded Name?  Fer. 
Oh thouart as fair  
In Mercy as in Beauty, wilt thou live,  
And I'll be thy Physician?  Cla. 
I'll be yours.  Fer. 
Don Pedro, we'll to counsel  
This Daughter shall be ours, sleep, sleep, young Angel,  
My care shall wake about thee.  Cla. 
Heaven is gracious,  
And I am eased.  Fer. 
we will be yet more private,  
Might curtains o'er the world, soft dreams rest with thee.  
The best revenge is to reform our crimes,  
Then time crowns sorrows, sorrows sweeten times.  Ex.  

ACTUS QUARTUS.  Enter Alvarez, Sancho, Soto, Antonio, Carlo, Eugenia, Pretiosa, Christiana, and Don John. A shout within. OMnes. 
Welcome, welcome, welcome.  Soto. 
More Sacks to the Mill.  San. 
More Thieves to the Sacks.  Al. 
Peace.  Pre. 
I give you now my welcome without noise.  Jo. 
'Tis Music to me.  He offers to kiss her. Omnes. 
Oh sir!  San. 
You must not be in your Mutton before we are out of our veal.  Soto. 
Stay for Vinegar to your Oysters, no opening till then.  Eu. 
No kissing till you're sworn.  Jo. 
Swear me then quickly.  
I have brought Gold for my Admission.  Al. 
What you bring leave, and what you leave count lost.  San. 
I brought all my Teeth, two are struck out, them I count lost, so must you.  Soto. 
I brought all my wits, half I count lost, so must you.  Jo. 
To be as you are, I lose Father, Friends,  
Birth, Fortunes, all the World; what will you do  
With the beast I rode on hither?  San. 
A Beast is't a Mule? send him to Muly Crag a whee in Barbary.  Soto. 
Is't an Ass? give it to a Lawyer, for in Spain they ride upon none else.  Jo. 
Kill him by any means, lest being pursued  
The beast betray me.  Soto. 
he's a beast betrays any man.  San. 
Except a Bailiff to be pumped.  Jo. 
Pray buy the Carcase and the furniture.  San. 
Do, do, bury the ass's householdstuff, and in his skin sow any Man that's mad for a Woman.  Al. 
Do so then, bury it, now to your Oath.  Eu. 
All things are ready.  Al. 
Thy best hand lay on this Turf of Grass,  
(There thy Heart lies) vow not to pass  
From us two years for Sun nor Snow,  
For hill nor dale( howe'er Winds blow.)  
Vow the hard Earth to be thy Bed,  
With her green Cushions under thy Head;  
Flower banks or Moss to be thy board,  
Water thy Wine,  San. 
And drink like a Lord.  Omnes. 
king's can have but Coronations,  
we are as proud of gipsy Fashions;  
Dance, Sing, and in a well-mixed border,  
Close this new Brother of our Order.  Al. 
What we get, with us come share,  
You to get must vow to care;  
Nor strike gipsy, nor stand by,  
When strangers strike, but fight or die;  
Our gipsy Wenches are not common,  
You must not kiss a fellow's Leman;  
Nor to your own (for one you must)  
In Songs send, errands of base lust.  Omnes. 
Dance, Sing, and in a well mixed border,  
Close this new Brother of our Order.  Jo. 
On this Turf of Grass I vow  
Your Laws to keep, your Laws allow.  Omnes. 
A gipsy, a gipsy, a gipsy.  Eu. 
Now choose what Maid has yet no mate, she's yours.  Jo. 
Here then fix I my fate.  Offers to kiss. San. 
Again fall too before you ha' washed!  Soto. 
Your Nose in the Manger, before the Oats are measured.  
Jade so hungry!  Al. 
Set foot to foot, those Garlands hold,  
Teach him how, now mark what more is told;  
By cross Arms the lover's sign,  
Vow as these flowers themselves entwine,  
Of April's wealth building a throne  
Round; so your love to one or none,  
By those touches of your Feet,  
You must each night embracing meet;  
Chaste howe'er disjoined by Day,  
You the Sun with her must play;  
She to you the Marigold  
To none but you her Leaves unfold;  
Wake she or sleep, your Eyes so charm,  
Want, we, nor weather do her harm.  Cla. 
This is your Market now of kisses,  
Buy and sell free each other Blisses.  Jo. 
Most, willingly.  Omnes. 
Holy days, high days, gipsy Fairs,  
When kisses are Fairings, and hearts meet in pairs.  Al. 
All Ceremonies end here; Welcome Brother, gipsy.  San. 
And the better to instruct thee, mark what a brave Life 'tis all the year long.  

Song.  

Brave Don cast your eyes on our gipsy Fashions,  
In our antique hey de guise, we go beyond all Nations;  
Plump Dutch at us grudge, so do English, so do French,  
He that loapes on the Ropes, show me such another wench.   

We no Camels have to show, nor Elephant with grout head,  
We can Dance, he cannot go, because the Beast is corn-fed;  
No blind Bears shedding tears, for a collier's whipping,  
Apes nor Dogs, quick as Frogs, over Cudgels skipping.   

Jack in Boxes, nor Decoys, Puppets nor such poor things,  
Nor are we those roaring Boys, that x Fools with guilt Rings;  
For an Ocean, not such a motion, as the City Niniveh,  
Dancing, Singing, and fine Ringing, you these sports shall hear and see.  
Come now what shall his Name be?    Pre. 
His Name shall now be Andrew, friend Andrew mark me:  
Two years I am to try you, prove fine Gold,  
The uncracked Diamond of my Faith shall hold.  Jo. 
My vows are Rocks of Adamant.  Pre. 
Two years you are to try me, black when I turn  
May I meet youth and want, old age and scorn.  Jo. 
king's Diadems shall not buy thee.  Cla. 
Do you think  
You can endure the Life and love it?  Jo. 
As Usurers dote upon their treasure.  Soto. 
But when your Face shall be tanned, like a Sailor's workaday hand:  San. 
When your Feet shall be galled, and your Noddle be malled:  Soto. 
When the Woods you must forage, and not meet with poor Peas-porridge:  San. 
Be all to be dabbled, yet lie in no Sheet:  Soto. 
With Winter's Frost, Hail, Snow and sleet;  
What Life will you say it is then?  Jo. 
As now the sweetest.  
Away, away, the corregidor has sent for you.  Diego within. San. 

Song.  

Hence merrily fine to get Money,  
Dry are the Fields, the Banks are Sunny;  
Silver is sweeter far than Honey.  
Fly like Swallows,   

we for our Coneys must get Mallows,  
Who loves not his Dill, let him die at the Gallows;  
Hence bonny girl's foot it trimly.  
Smug up your beetle Brows, none look grimly,  
To show a pretty foot, Oh! 'tis seemly.    Exit. Enter Cardochia, stays Soto. Car. 
Do you hear you gipsy? gipsy?  Soto. 
Me?  Car. 
There's a young gipsy newly entertained,  
Sweet gipsy call him back for one two words,  
And here's a Jewel for thee.  Soto. 
I'll send him.  Car. 
What's his Name?  Soto. 
Andrew.  Exit. Car. 
A very handsome fellow, I ha' seen Courtiers  
Jet up and down in their full bravery,  
Yet here's a gipsy worth a drove of 'em.  Enter Don John. Jo. 
With me sweet Heart?  Car. 
Your Name is Andrew.  Jo. 
Yes.  Car. 
You can tell Fortune's Andrew.  Jo. 
I could once,  
But now I ha' lost that knowledge, I am in haste,  
And cannot stay to tell you yours.  Car. 
I cannot tell yours then,  
And cause you are in haste, I am quick,  
I am a Maid.  Jo. 
So, so, a maid quick.  Car. 
Juanna Cardochia,  
That's mine own Name, I am my Mother's Heir  
Here to this House, and two more.  Jo. 
I buy no Lands.  Car. 
They shall be given you, with some Plate and Money,  
And free possession (during life) of me,  
So the match like you, for so well I love you  
That I in pity of this Trade of Gipsying  
(Being base, idle and slavish) offer you  
A state to settle you, my youth and beauty,  
(Desired by some brave Spaniards) so I may call you  
My husband, shall I Andrew?  Jo. 
'las pretty Soul,  
Better Stars guide you, may that hand of Cupid  
Ache, ever shot this arrow at your heart,  
Sticks there one such indeed?  Car. 
I would there did not,  
Since you'll not pluck it out.  Jo. 
Good sweet I cannot;  
For marriage 'tis a Law amongst us Gipsies  
We match in our own tribes, for me to wear you  
I should but wear you out.  Car. 
I do not care  
Wear what you can out, all my life, my wealth,  
Ruin me, so you lend me but your love,  
A little of your love.  Jo. 
Would I could give it,  
For you are worth a World of better men,  
For your free noble mind, all my best wishes  
Stay with you, I must hence.  Car. 
Wear for my sake  
This Jewel.  Jo. 
I'll not rob you, I'll take nothing.  Car. 
Wear it about your neck but one poor Moon;  
If in that time your eye be as 'tis now,  
Send my Jewel home again, and I protest  
I'll never more think on you; deny not this,  
Put it about your neck:  Jo. 
Well then 'tis done.  Car. 
And vow to keep it there.  Jo. 
By all the Goodness  
I wish attend your fortunes I do vow it.  Exit. Car. 
Scorned! thou hast tempered poison to kill me  
thyself shall drink; since I cannot enjoy thee  
My revenge shall.  Enter Diego. Die. 
Where are the Gipsies?  Car. 
Gone;— Diego do you love me?  Die. 
Love thee Juanna!  
Is my life mine! it is but mine so long  
As it shall do thee service.  Car. 
There's a younger gipsy newly entertained.  Die. 
A handsome rascal; what of him?  Car. 
That slave in obscene Language courted me.  
Drew Rials out, and would have bought my body  
Diego from thee!  Die. 
Is he so Itchy? I'll cure him.  Car. 
Thou shalt not touch the Villain, I'll spin his fate;  
Woman strikes sure, fall the blow ne'er so late.  Die. 
Strike on sin, thou wilt be a striker.  Exit. Enter Fernando, Francisco, Pedro, and Lewys. Fer. 
See Don Lewis, an Army!  
(The strongest Army in Spain) to the full length  
Is stretched to pluck old Count Alvarez home  
From his sad banishment.  Lew. 
With longing Eyes,  
(My Lord) I expect the man, your Lordship's pardon,  
Some business calls me from you.  Fer. 
Prithee Don Lewis,  
Unless th'occasion be too violent,  
Stay and be merry with us, all the Gipsies  
Will be here presently.  Lew. 
I will attend your Lordship,  
Before their sports be done.  Exit. Fer. 
Be your own Carver,  
Not yet shake off these fetters? I see a Son  
Is heavy when a Father carries him  
On his old heart.  Fra. 
Could I set up my rest,  
That he were lost, or taken prisoner;  
I could hold truce with sorrow; but to have him  
Vanish I know not how, gone none knows whither,  
'Tis that mads me.  Pe. 
You said he sent a Letter.  Fra. 
A Letter! a mere Riddle; he's gone to see  
His fortune in the Wars, what Wars have we?  
Suppose we had, goes any man toth' Field  
Naked, unfurnished, both Arms and Money?  Fer. 
Come, come, he's gone a Wenching; we in our youth  
Ran the self same Bias.  Enter Diego. Die. 
The Gipsies my Lord are come.  Fer. 
Are they? let them enter:  Exit Die. 
My Lord De Cortez send for your Wife and Daughter,  
Good company is good Physic, take the pains  
To seat yourselves in my great Chamber.  Exit. Enter Alvarez, Don John, Roderigo, Antonio, Carlo, Eugenia, Pretiosa, Christiana, Sancho, and Soto. Al. 
See they are here; what's your number?  San. 
The figure of nine casts us all up my Lord.  Fer. 
Nine! let me see— you are ten sure.  Soto. 
That's our Poet, he stands for a Cipher.  Fer. 
Ciphers make numbers; what Plays have you?  Al. 
Five or six my Lord.  Fer. 
It's well so many already.  Soto. 
we are promised a very merry Tragedy, if all hit right, of Cobby Nobby.  Fer. 
So, so, a merry Tragedy, there is a way which the Italians, and the Frenchmen use; that is, on a word given, or some slight Plot,  
The Actors will extempore fashion out  
Scenes neat and witty.  Al. 
We can do that my Lord, please you bestow the Subject  Fer. 
Can you? come hither,  
You Master Poet to save you a labour,  
Look you, against your coming I projected  
This Comic passage— your drama; that's the Scene.  Ro. 
ay, ay, my Lord.  Fer. 
I lay in our own Country, Spain.  Ro. 
'Tis best so.  Fer. 
Here's a brave part for this old gipsy— look you  
The Father: read the Plot— this young she gipsy,  
This Lady— now the son— play him yourself.  Ro. 
My Lord, I am no Player.  Fer. 
Pray at this time.  
(The Plot being full) to please my noble Friends,  
Because your brains must into theirs put Language,  
Act thou the son's part,— I'll reward your pains.  Ro. 
Protest my Lord—  Fer. 
Nay, nay, shake off protesting,  
When I was young sir, I have played myself.  San. 
yourself my Lord! you were but a poor Company then.  Fer. 
Yes, full enough honest fellow— will you do it?  Ro. 
I'll venture.  Fer. 
I thank you, let this Father be a Don  
Of a brave spirit, old gipsy observe me.  Al. 
Yes my Lord.  Fer. 
Play him up high, not like a Pantaloon,  
But hotly, nobly, checking this his Son,  
Whom make a very rakehell, a debauched fellow,—  
This point I think will show well.  Ro. 
This of the Picture,  
It will indeed my Lord.  San. 
My Lord, what part play I?  Fer. 
What parts dost use to play?  San. 
If your Lordship has ever a Coxcomb, I think I could fit you.  Fer. 
I thank your Coxcomb-ship.  Soto. 
Put a Coxcomb upon a Lord!  Fer. 
There are parts to serve you all, go, go, make ready,  
And call for what you want.  Exit. Al. 
Give me the Plot, our wits are put to trial.  
What's the Son's Name, Lorenzo? that's your part  
Look only you to that,— these I'll dispose;  
Old Don Avero, mine; Hialdo, Lollio,  
Two servants, you for them.  San. 
One of the foolish knaves give me, I'll be Hialdo.  Soto. 
And I Lollio.  San. 
Is there a Banquet in the Play? we may call for what we will.  Ro. 
Yes, here is a Banquet.  San. 
I'll go then and bespeak an ocean of Sweet meats, marmalade and Custards.  Al. 
Make haste to know what you must do.  San. 
Do I call for enough, and when my Belly is full, fill my Pockets.  Soto. 
To a Banquet there must be Wine, Fortunes a scurvy Whore; if she makes not my head sound like a Rattle; and my Heels dance the Canaries.  Al. 
So, so, dispatch, whilst me employ our brains  
To set things off toth' Life.  Exit. Ro. 
I'll be straight with you,  
Why does my Father put this trick on me?  
Spies he me through my Vizard? if he does  
He's not the King of Spain, and 'tis no Treason;  
If his invention, Jet upon a Stage  
Why should not I use action? a debauched fellow!  
A very rakehell, this reflects on me,  
And I'll retort it, grown a Poet Father?  
No matter in what strain your Play must run,  
But I shall fit you for a roaring Son.  Exit. flourish. Enter Francisco, Pedro, Fernando, Diego, Maria, and Clara. Fer. 
Come Ladies take your places, this their Music,  
'Tis very handsome, oh! I wish this Room  
Were frighted, but with noble friends  
As are to you my welcomes, begin there masters.  Flourish within. San. 
Presently my Lord, we want but a cold Capon for a property.  Fer. 
Call, call for one— now they begin.  Enter Sancho, the Prologue. San. 
Both short and sweet some say is best,  
we will not only be sweet but short,  
Take you Pepper in the Nose you mar our sport.  Fer. 
By no means Pepper.  San. 
Of your Love measure us forth but one span,  
We do (though not the best) the best we can.  Exit. Fer. 
A good honest gipsy.  Enter Alvarez and Soto. Al. 
Slave! where's my Son Lorenzo?  Soto. 
I have sought him my Lord in all four Elements; in Earth, my Shoes are full of Gravel; in Water, I drop at Nose with sweating; In Air, wheresoever I heard noise of Fiddlers, or the wide mouths of Gallon-pots roaring; and in Fire, what Chimney soever I saw smoking with good cheer, for my Master's Dinner, as I was in hope.  Al. 
Not yet come home? before on this old Tree  
Shall grow a branch so blasted, I'll hew it off,  
And bury it at my foot, didst thou inquire  
At my Brothers?  Soto. 
At your Sisters.  Al. 
At my wife's Fathers?  Soto. 
At your uncle's Mothers, no such sheep has broke through their hedge, no such Calf as your Son sucks, or bleats in their ground.  Al. 
I am unblessed to have but one Son only,  
One staff to bear my age up— one Taper left,  
To light me to my Grave, and that burns dimly  
That leaves me darkling hid in clouds of woe,  
He that should prop me is mine overthrow.  Fer. 
Well done old fellow is't not?  Omnes. 
Yes, yes, my Lord.  Enter Sancho. Soto. 
Here comes his man Hialdo.  Al. 
Where's the prodigal your Master sirrah?  San. 
Eating Acorns amongst Swine, draff amongst Hogs, and gnawing bones amongst Dogs; has lost all his Money at Dice, his Wits with his Money, and his honesty with both, for he bumfiddles me; makes the Drawers curvet, pitches the Plate over the Bar, scores up the vintner's Name in the Ram-head; flirts his Wife under the Nose, and bids you with a Pox send him more Money.  Al. 
Art thou one of his Currs to bite me too?  
To nail thee to the Earth were to do Justice.  Enter Roderigo. San. 
Here comes Bucephalus my prancing Master, nail me now who dares.  Ro. 
I sit like an Owl in the Ivy bush of a Tavern! Hialdo I have drawn red Wine from the vintner's own Hogshead.  San. 
Here's two more, pierce them too.  Ro. 
Old Don, whom I call Father; am I thy Son? if I be, flesh me with Gold, fat me with Silver; had I Spain in this hand, and Portugal in this, puff it should fly, where's the Money I sent for?— I'll tickle you for a Rakehell.  San. 
Not a Marvedi.  Al. 
Thou shalt have none of me.  Soto. 
Hold his Nose to the grindstone my Lord.  Ro. 
I shall have none!  Al. 
Charge me a case of pistols.  
What I have built I'll ruin, shall I suffer  
A Slave to set his Foot upon my heart?  
A Son! a barbarous Villain, or if Heaven save thee  
Now from my Justice, yet my curse pursues thee.  Ro. 
Hialdo, carbonado thou the old Rogue my Father.  San. 
Whilst you slice into collops the rusty gammon his man there.  Ro. 
No Money! Can Taverns stand without anon, anon? fiddlers live without scraping, taffety Girls look plump without pampering? if you will not Lard me with Money, give me a Ship, furnish me to Sea.  Al. 
To have thee hanged for Piracy?  San. 
Trim, tram, hang Master hand Man.  Ro. 
Then send me to the West-Indies, buy me some Office there.  A. 
To have thy throat cut for thy quarrelling.  Ro. 
Else send me and my ningle Hialdo to the Wars.  San. 
A match, we'll fight Dog, fight Bear.  Enter Antonio. An. 
Oh dear Hernando! welcome, clap Wings to your heels,  
And pray my worthy friends bestow upon me  
Their present Visitation.  Ant. 
Lorenzo, see the anger of a Father,  
Although it be as lowed and quick as thunder,  
Yet 'tis done instantly, cast off thy wildness,  
Be mine, be mine, for I to call thee home  
Have with my honoured friend here, Don Hernando  
Provided thee a Wife.  Ro. 
A Wife! Is she handsome? is she rich? Is she fair? Is she witty? Is she honest? Hang honesty. Has she a sweet Face, cherry-cheek, Strawberry-lip, white-skin, dainty Eye, pretty Foot, delicate Legs? as there's a Girl now.  Ant. 
It is a Creature both for Birth and fortunes,  
And for most excellent graces of the mind,  
Few like her are in Spain.  Ro. 
When shall I see her?— now Father pray take your curse off.  Al. 
I do, the Lady  
Lives from Mardrill, very near fourteen Leagues,  
But thou shalt see her Picture.  Ro. 
That, that, most Ladies in these days are but very fine Pictures.  Enter Claro, Don John, Engenia, Pretiosa, Christiana, Sancho and Soto. Al. 
Ladies to you first welcome, my Lords (Alonzo,  
And you worthy marquess) thanks for these honours.  
Away you: to th'cause now of this meeting, my Son Lorenzo,  
Whose wildness you all know comes now to th' Lure,  
Sits gently; has called home his wandering thoughts,  
And now will Marry.  Pre. 
A good Wife Fate send him.  Eu. 
One stayed may settle him.  Ro. 
Fly to the mark sir, show me the Wench, or her Face, or any thing I may know 'tis a woman fit for me.  Al. 
she is not here herself, but here's her Picture.  A Picture. Fer. 
My Lord De Carcamo, pray observe this.  Fra. 
I do attentively— Don Pedro, mark it.  Enter Soto. Soto. 
If you ha' done your part, yonder's a Wench would ha' a bout with you, Exit.  Jo. 
Me!  Exit. Die. 
A Wench!  Exit. Al. 
Why stand you staring at it? how do you like her?  Ro. 
Are you in earnest?  Al. 
Yes sir, in earnest.  Ro. 
I am not so hungry after flesh to make the Devil a Cuckold  An. 
Look not upon the Face, but on the goodness  
That dwells within her.  Ro. 
Set fire on the Tenement.  Al. 
she's rich, nobly descended.  Ro. 
Did ever Nobility look so scurvily?  Al. 
I am sunk in fortunes, she may raise us both.  Ro. 
Sink, let her to her Granam; marry a Witch! have you fetched a Wife for me out of Lapland? an old Midwife in a velvet Hat, were a goddess to this: that a red Lip!  Pre. 
There's a red Nose.  Ro. 
That a yellow hair.  Eu. 
Why? her teeth may be yellow.  Ro. 
Where's the full Eye?  Chri. 
She has full blabber Cheeks.  Al. 
Set up thy rest, her marriest thou or none.  Ro. 
None then, were all the Water in the World one Sea, all Kingdoms one Mountain. I would climb on all four, up to the top of that Hill, and headlong hurl myself into that abyss of waves ere I would touch the skin of such rough gaberdine, for the breath of her Picture stinks hither.  A noise Within. Enter Don John, Diego, Cardochia, Sancho, and Soto in a hurry. Fer. 
What tumult's this?  San. Soto. 
Murder, murder, murder, one of our Gipsies is in danger of hanging, hanging!  Ped. 
Who is hurt?  Die. 
'Tis I my Lord, stabbed by this gipsy.  Jo. 
He struck me first, and I'll not take a blow  
From any Spaniard breathing.  Pe. 
Are you so brave?  Fer. 
Break up your play: lock all the doors.  Die. 
I faint my Lord.  Fra. 
Have him to a Surgeon, how fell they out?  Card. 
Oh! my good Lord, these Gipsies when they lodged  
At my house, I had a Jewel from my Pocket  
Stolen by this Villain.  Joh. 
'Tis most false my Lords,  
Her own hands gave it me.  Pre. 
She that calls him Villain,  
Or says he stole.  Fer. 
Heyday, we hear your scolding.  Card. 
And the hurt Gentleman finding it in his bosom  
For that he stabbed him.  Fer. 
Hence with all the Gipsies.  Ped. 
Ruffians and Thieves, to prison with 'em all.  Al. 
My Lord we'll leave engagements, in Plate and Money  
For all our safe forthcomings; punish not all  
For one's offence, we'll prove ourselves no Thieves.  San. 
Oh Soto! I make Buttons.  Soto. 
Would I could make some, and leave this Trade.  Fer. 
Iron him then, let the rest go free, but stir not one foot  
Out of Madrill; bring you in your witness.  Soto. 
Prick him with a Pin, or pinch him by the Elbow; any thing.  San. 
My Lord Don Pedro, I am your Ward, we have spent a little Money to get a horrible deal of Wit, and now I am weary of it.  Pe. 
My runaways turned Jugglers! Fortune-Tellers!  Soto. 
No great Fortunes.  Fer. 
To Prison with 'em both: a Gentleman play the Ass!  San. 
If all Gentlemen that play the Ass should to Prison, you must widen your Jails. Come Soto, I scorn to beg, set thy foot to mine, and kick at shackles.  Fer. 
So, so, away with 'em.  Soto. 
Send all our Company after, and we'll play there, and be as merry as you here. Exit.  Fer. 
Our Comedy turned Tragical! please you Lords walk.  
This Actor here and I must change a word,  
And I come to you.  Omnes. 
Well my Lord, your pleasure—  Exeunt. Fer. 
Why? couldst thou think in any base disguise  
To blind my sight? Father's have Eagles Eyes.  
But pray sir why was this done? why when I thought you  
Fast locked in Salamanca, at your Study,  
leapt you into a gipsy?  Ro. 
Sir, with your pardon,  
I shall at fit time, to you show cause for all:  Fer. 
Mean time sir, you have got a Trade to live by,  
Best to turn Player, an excellent Ruffian! ha!  
But know sir, when I had found you out, I gave you  
This project of set purpose, 'tis all myself,  
What the old gipsy spoke must be my Language,  
Nothing are left me but my Offices,  
And thin-faced honours, and this very Creature  
By you so scorned, must raise me by your Marrying her.  Ro. 
You would not build your glory on my ruins.  Fer. 
The Rascal has belied the Lady,  
She is not half so bad, all's one, she's rich.  Ro. 
Oh! will you see the joys of my full youth?  
To Dunghill muck, seek out some wretch's Daughter;  
Whose soul is lost for gold then? you are more noble  
Than t'have your Son, the top branch of your house  
Grow in a heap of rubbish; I must marry a thing,  
I shall be ashamed to own, ashamed to bring her  
Before a Sunbeam.  Fer. 
I cannot help it sir, resolve upon't, and do't.  Ro. 
And do't and die.  
Is there no face in Spain for you to pick out  
But one to fright me? when you sat the Play here  
There was a beauty, to be Lord of which  
I would against an Army throw defiance.  Fer. 
she! Alas.  Ro. 
How! how! at every hair of hers  
There hangs a very Angel, this! I am ready  
To drop down looking at it: Sir I beseech you  
Bury me in this Earth, on which I am humbled  
To beg your blessing on me for a gipsy,  
Rather than— oh! I know not what to term it.  
Pray what is that young pensive piece of beauty?  
Your voice for her, I eyed her all the scene.  Fer. 
I saw you did.  Ro. 
methought 'twas a sweet Creature.  Fer. 
Well though my present state stands now on Ice,  
I'll let it crack and fall, rather than bar thee  
Of thy content, this Lady shall go by then.  Ro. 
Hang let her there, or anywhere.  Fer. 
That young Lannard,  
Whom you have such a mind to, if you can whistle her  
To come to Fist, make trial, play the young Falconer.  
I will nor mar your marriage, nor yet make  
Beauty no wealth, wealth ugliness, which you will take.  Ro. 
I thank you sir, put on your Mask good Madam,  
The Sun will spoil your Face else.  Exit.  

ACTUS QUINTUS.  Enter Fernando, Francisco, Pedro, Roderigo, Clara, Maria, as from Church ever the Stage, Fer. stays Roderigo. Fer. 
THou hast now the Wife of thy desires.  Ro. 
Sir, I have;  
And in her every blessing that makes Life  
Loath to be parted with.  Fer. 
Noble she is,  
And fair, has to enrich her Blood and Beauty  
Plenty of Wit, Discourse, Behaviour, Carriage.  Ro. 
I owe you duty for a double birth,  
Being in this happiness begot again,  
Without which I had been a man of wretchedness.  Fer. 
Then henceforth, Boy, learn to obey thy fate,  
'Tis fall'n upon thee, know it, and embrace it:  
Thy Wife's a wanton.  Ro. 
A wanton!  Fer. 
Examine through the progress of thy youth,  
What capital sins, what great one 'tis, for 'tis  
A great one thoust committed.  Ro. 
I a great one!  Fer. 
Else Heaven is not so wrathful to pour on thee  
A misery so full of bitterness;  
I am thy Father, think on't, and be just;  
Come do not dally.  Ro. 
Pray my Lord.  Fer. 
Fool 'twere  
Impossible that Justice should rain down  
In such a frightful horror without cause.  
Sir, I will know it, rather blush thou didst  
An act thou dar'st not name then that it has  
A name to be known by.  Ro. 
Turn from me then,  
And as my guilt sighs out this monster Rape,  
Oh! do not lend an Ear.  Fer. 
Rape! fearful.  Ro. 
Hence, hence springs my due reward.  Fer. 
thouart none of mine.  
Or if thou be'st, thou dost belie the stamp  
Of thy Nativity.  Ro. 
Forgive me.  Fer. 
Had she  
Poor wronged Soul( whoe'er she was) no Friend,  
Nor Father to revenge, had she no Tongue  
To roar her injuries?  Ro. 
Alas I know her not.  Fer. 
Peace thou wilt blaze a sin beyond all precedent,  
Young man thou shouldst have married her, the Devil  
Of lust that riots in thy Eye, should there  
Have let full love and pity; not on this stranger  
Whom thou hast doted on.  Ro. 
Oh! had I married her,  
I had been then the happiest man alive:  Enter Clara, Maria, and Pedro: from behind the Arras. Cla. 
As I the happiest Woman being married,  
Look on me sir.  Ped. 
You shall not find a change  
So full of fears as your most noble Father,  
In his wise Trial urged.  Ma. 
Indeed you shall not,  
The forfeit of her shame shall be her pawn.  Ro. 
Why pray d''ee mock my sorrows? now oh now  
My horrors flew about me!  Fer. 
No thy comforts,  
Thy blessings Roderigo.  Cla. 
By this Crucifix  
You may remember me.  Ro. 
Ha! art thou that Lady wronged?  Cla. 
I was, but now am  
Righted in noble satisfaction.  Ro. 
How can I turn mine Eyes, and not behold  
On every side my shame!  Fer. 
No more hereafter,  
we shall have time to talk at large of all,  
Love her that's now thine own, do Roderigo.  
she's far from what I charactered.  Cla. 
My care shall live about me to deserve your love.  Ro. 
Excellent Clara— Fathers both, and Mother,  
I will redeem my fault.  Fer. Ped. Ma. 
Our blessings dwell on ye.  Enter Lewys and Francisco. Lew. 
Married to Roderigo!  Fra. 
Judge yourself,  
See where they are.  Exit. Lew. 
Is this your Husband Lady?  Cla. 
He is sir, heaven's great hand that on Record,  
Fore-points the equal Union of all hearts,  
Long since decreed, what this day hath been perfected.  Lew. 
'Tis well then, I am free it seems.  Cla. 
Make smooth  
My Lord, those clouds which on your brow deliver  
Emblems of storm; I will as far as honour  
May privilege, deserve a noble friendship,  
As you from me deserve a worthy memory.  Lew. 
Your Husband has proved himself a friend,  
Trusty and tried, he's welcome I may say  
From the University,  Ro. 
To a new School  
Of happy knowledge Lewis.  Lew. 
Sir, I am not so poor to put this injury up,  
The best blood flows within you is the price.  Ro. 
Lewis for this time calm your anger,  
And if I do not give you noble satisfaction,  
Call me to what account you please.  Lew. 
So, so, I come for Justice t'ee,  
And you shall grant it.  Fer. 
Shall and will.  Lew. 
With speed too.  
My poor friend bleeds the whiles.  Fer. 
You shall yourself  
Before we part, receive the satisfaction  
You come for, who attends  
My Lord?  Within Servants. Fer. 
The Prisoner.  Ser. 
He attends your Lordship's pleasure.  Enter Pretiosa, Eugenia, and Alvarez. Lew. 
What would this Girl? foh no tricks.  
Get you to your Cabin housewife, we have no ear for Ballads.  Fer. 
Take her away.  Cla. 
A wondrous lively Creature.  Pre. 
Noble Gentlemen,  
If a poor Maids, a gipsy Virgins tears  
May soften the hard edge of angry Justice;  
Then grant me gracious hearing (as you're merciful.)  
I beg my husband's Life.  Fer. 
Thy Husbands, little one!  Pre. 
Gentle sir, our plighted troths are Chronicled  
In that white Book above, which notes the secrets  
Of every thought and heart, he is my Husband,  
I am his Wife.  Lew. 
Rather his Whore.  Pre. 
Now trust me,  
You're no good man to say so, I am honest,  
Deed la I am, a poor soul that deserves not  
Such a bad word, were you a better man  
Than you are, you do me wrong.  Lu: 
The Toy grows angry.  Cla. 
And it becomes her sweetly, troth my Lord,  
I pity her.  Ro. 
I thank you sir.  Lu. 
Your Husband  
You'll say is no Thief.  Pre. 
Upon my Conscience he is not.  Leu. 
Dares not strike a man.  Pre. 
Unworthily  
He dares not, but if trod upon, a Worm  
Will turn again.  Lew. 
That turning turns your Worm  
Off from the Ladder, Minion.  Pre. 
Sir, I hope  
You are not his Judge, you are too young, too choleric,  
Too passionate, the price of Life or Death  
Requires a much more grave consideration  
Then your years warrant, he sit they (like gods)  
Upon whose head the reverend badge of Time  
Hath sealed the proof of Wisdom; to these Oracles  
Of riper Judgement, lower in my heart,  
Then on my knees, I offer up my suit,  
My lawful suit, which begs they would be gentle  
To their own fames, their own immortal stories,  
Oh! do not think my Lords compassion thrown  
On a base low estate, on humble People  
Less meritorious, then if you had favoured  
The faults of great men; and indeed great men  
Have often times great faults; he whom I plead for  
Is free, the soul of Innocence itself  
Is not more white, will you pity him?  
I see it is in your Eyes, 'tis a sweet Sunbeam,  
Let it shine out; and to adorn your praise  
The prayers of the poor shall crown your days,  
And theirs are something hard.  Fer. 
Beshrew the Girl,  
She has almost melted me to tears.  Lew. 
Hence trifler— call in my friends,  
What hope of ease?  Enter Don John, Diego, and Cardochia. Die. 
Good hope, but still I smart,  
The worst is in my pain.  Lew. 
The price is high  
Shall buy thy vengeance, to receive a wound  
By a base villain's hand, it mads me.  Jo. 
Men subject to th' extremity of Law,  
Should carry peace about'em to their Graves,  
Else were you nobler than the blood you boast of,  
Could any way (my Lord) derive you know,  
I would return sharp answer to your slanders;  
But it suffices I am none of ought  
Your rage misterms me.  Lew. 
None of 'em, no Rascal?  Jo. 
No Rascal.  Lew. 
Nor no Thief.  Jo. 
Ask her, that's my Accuser, could your Eyes  
Pierce through the secrets of her foul desires;  
You might without a partial Judgement, look into  
A Woman's Lust and Malice.  Car. 
My good Lords,  
What I have Articled against this fellow,  
I justify for truth.  Jo. 
On then, no more,  
This being true she says; I have deserved  
To die.  Fer. 
we sit not here to bandy Words,  
But minister Law, and that condemns thee  
For theft unto the Gallows.  Pre. 
Oh my misery!  
Are you all Marble-breasted? are your bosoms  
Hooped round with Steel, to cast away a man?  
More worthy Life and Honours than a thousand  
Of such, as only pray unto the shadow  
Of abused greatness.  Jo. 
'Tis in vain to storm,  
My Fate is here determined!  Pre. 
Lost Creature,  
Art thou grown dull too; is my Love so cheap,  
That thou court'st thy destruction, 'cause I love thee?  
My Lords, my Lords; speak Andrew, prithee now,  
Be not so cruel to thyself and me,  
One word of thine will do't.  Fer. 
Away with him,  
Tomorrow is his day of Execution.  Jo. 
Even when you will.  Pre. 
Stay man thou shalt not go;  
Here are more Women yet, sweet Madam speak:  
You Lady, you methinks should have some feeling  
Of tenderness, you may be touched as I am,  
troth wert your cause, I'd weep with you, and join  
In earnest suit for one you held so dear.  Cla. 
My Lord, pray speak in his behalf.  Ro. 
I would, but dare not,  
'Tis a fault so clear and manifest.  Lew. 
Back with him to his Dungeon.  Jo. 
Heaven can tell.  
I sorrow not to die, but to leave her,  
Who whiles I live is my Life's comforter.  Car. 
Now shall I be revenged.  Exit. Pre. 
Oh me unhappy!  Fer. 
See the Girl falls,  
Some one look to her!  Cla. 
'Las poor Maid.  Eug. 
Pretiosa!  
she does recover, mine honourable Lord.  Fer. 
In vain, what is't?  Eug. 
Be pleased to give me private audience;  
I will discover something shall advantage  
The noblest of this Land.  Fer. 
Well I will hear thee,  
Bring in the Girl.  Exit. Manet Lewys, Alvarez. Lew. 
aught with me, what is't?  
I care not for thy Company old Ruffian,  
Rascal art impudent?  Al. 
To beg your service.  Lew. 
Hang yourself.  Al. 
By your Father's Soul sir, hear me.  Lew. 
Dispatch.  Al. 
First, promise me you will get reprieve  
For the condemned Man, and by my Art,  
I'll make you master of what your Heart on Earth  
Can wish for, or desire.  Lew. 
Thou liest thou canst not.  Al. 
Try me.  Lew. 
Do that, and then as I am noble,  
I will not only give thy friend his Life,  
But royally reward thee, love thee ever.  Al. 
I take your word, what would you?  Lew. 
If thou mockest me,  
'Twere better thou wert damned.  Al. 
Sir, I am resolute.  Lew. 
Resolve me then, whether the Count Alvarez,  
Who slew my Father, be alive or dead?  Al. 
Is this the mighty matter? the Count lives.  Lew. 
How!  Al. 
The Count lives!  Lew. 
Oh fate I now tell me where?  
And be, my better genius.  Al. 
I can do't,  
In Spain 'a lives: more, not far from Madrill,  
But in disguise much altered.  Lew. 
Wonderful Scholar,  
Miracle of Artists, Alvarez living!  
And near Madrill too! now for heaven's sake where?  
That's all, and I am thine.  Al. 
Walk off my Lord  
To the next Field, you shall know all.  Lew. 
Apace then, I listen to thee  
With a greedy Ear, the Miserable and the Fortunate  Ex. at one door. Enter presently at the other. 
Are alike in this, they cannot change their Fate.  Al. 
Good, good, you would fain kill him and revenge Your Father's Death.  Lew. 
I would.  Al. 
Bravely, or securely?  Lew. 
Not basely for the World.  Al. 
we are secure.  Two Swords. 
Young Lewis, two more trusty blades then these,  
Spain has not in her Army; with this  
Alvarez slew thy Father, and this other,  
Was that the King of France wore, when great Charles  
In a set Battle took him Prisoner;  
Both I resign to thee.  Lew. 
This is a new Mystery.  Al. 
Now see this naked bosom, turns the points  
Of either on this Bulwark, if thou covetest  
Out of a sprightly youth, and manly thirst  
Of vengeance blood, if blood be thy ambition,  
Then call to mind the fatal blow that struck  
De Castor thy brave Father to his Grave;  
Remember who it was that gave that blow,  
His enemy Alvarez, hear, and be sudden,  
Behold Alvarez!  Lew. 
Death, I am deluded.  Al. 
Thou art incredulous, as Fate is certain  
I am the man.  Lew. 
Thou that Butcher!  Al. 
Tremble not young man, trust me I have wept  
Religiously to wash off from my Conscience  
The stain of my offence: twelve years and more,  
Like to a restless Pilgrim I have run  
From foreign Lands to Lands, to find out Death.  
I am weary of my Life, give me a Sword,  
That thou may'st know with what a perfect zeal  
I honour old De Castor's memory;  
I'll fight with thee, I would not have thy hand  
Dipped in a wilful Murder, I could wish  
For one hour's space I could pluck back from Time,  
But thirty of my years, that in my fall  
Thou mightst deserve report: now if thou Conquerst  
Thou canst not triumph, I am half dead already,  
Yet I'll not start a foot.  Lew. 
Breathes there a spirit  
In such a heap of rage?  Al. 
Oh! that I had  
A Son of equal growth with thee, to tug  
For Reputation: by thy Father's ashes,  
I would not kill thee for another Spain,  
Yet now I'll do my best, thou art amazed,  
Come on.  Lew. 
Twelve tedious Winter's banishment!  
'Twas a long time.  Al. 
Could they redeem thy Father?  
Would every Age had been twelve Ages Lewis,  
And I for Penance every Age a dying,  
But 'tis too late to wish.  Lew. 
I am o'ercome,  
Your nobleness hath conquered me, here ends  
All strife between our Families, and henceforth  
Acknowledge me for yours.  Al. 
Oh! thou revivest  
Fresh horrors to my Fact, for in thy gentleness  
I see my sin anew.  Lew. 
Our peace is made,  
Your Life shall be my care, 'twill be glad news  
To all our noble friends.  Al. 
Since Heaven will have it so,  
I thank thee glorious Majesty; my Son  
For I will call thee, ere the next morrow:  
Salute the World, thou shalt know stranger mysteries.  Lew. 
I have enough to feed on; sir I'll follow ye.  Exit. Enter Eugenia, Fernando, and Pretiosa. Fer. 
Don John Son to the Count of Carcomo,  
Woman take heed thou trifle not.  Eu. 
Is this  
My Lord so strange?  Fer. 
Beauty in Youth, and Wit  
To set it forth, I see transforms the best  
Into what shape Love fancies.  Pre. 
Will you yet  
Give me my husband's Life?  Fer. 
Why little one he is not Married to thee.  Pre. 
In his Faith  
He is; and faith and troth. I hope bind faster,  
Than any other Ceremonies can,  
Do they not pray my Lord?  Fer. 
Yes, where the Parties  
Pledged, are not too unequal in degree,  
As he and thou art.  Pre. 
This is new Divinity.  Eu. 
My Lord, behold this Child well: in her Face,  
You may observe by curious insight, something  
More than belongs to every common birth.  Fer. 
True, 'tis a pretty Child.  Eu. 
The Glass of misery  
Is after many a change of desperate fortune,  
At length run out, you had a Daughter  
Called Constanza.  Fer. 
Ha!  Eu. 
A Sister Guyamara,  
Wife to the Count Alvarez.  Fer. 
Peace, oh peace!  Eu. 
And to that Sisters charge you did commit  
Your Infant Daughter, in whose birth your Wife  
Her Mother died.  Fer. 
Woman thou art too cruel.  Pre. 
What d''ee mean Granam? Lass the noble man Grows angry.  Fer. 
Not I, indeed I do not,  
But why d''ee use me thus?  Eu. 
Your Child and Sister,  
As you supposed were drowned.  Fer. 
Drowned, talking Creature!  
Supposed!  Eu. 
They live Fernando from my hand,  
Thy sister's hand receive thine own Constanza,  
The sweetest best Child living.  Pre. 
Do you mock me?  Fer. 
Torment me on, yet more, more yet and spare not,  
My heart is now a breaking: now!  Eu. 
Oh Brother!  
Am I so far removed off from your Memory,  
As that you will not know me? I expected  
another welcome home, look on this Casket,  A Casket. 
The Legacy your Lady left her Daughter,  
When to her Son, she gave her Crucifix.  Fer. 
Right, right, I know ye now.  Eu. 
In all my sorrows,  
My comfort has been here; she should be,  
Be yours, Constanza kneel sweet Child  
To thy old Father.  Pre. 
How my Father?  Fer. 
Let not  
Extremity of joys ravish Life from me  
Too soon Heaven I beseech thee; thou art my Sister,  
My Sister Guyamara; how have mine Eyes  
Been darkened all this while:— 'tis she!  Eu. 
'Tis Brother,  
And this Constanza, now no more a stranger,  
No Pretiosa henceforth.  Fer. 
My soul's treasure,  
Live to an Age of goodness, and so thrive  
In all thy ways, that thou mayst die to live.  Pre. 
But must I call you Father?  Fer. 
Thou wilt rob me else  
Of that felicity; for whose sake only  
I am ambitious of being young again;  
Rise, rise, mine own Constanza.  Pre. 
'Tis a new name,  
But 'tis a pretty one, I may be bold  
To make a suit t'ee.  Fer. 
Any thing.  Pre. 
Oh Father!  
And if you be my Father think upon  
Don John my Husband, without him alas  
I can be nothing.  Fer. 
As I without thee,  
Let me alone Constanza, tell me, tell me,  
Lives yet Alvarez?  Eu. 
In your house.  Fer. 
Enough.  
Cloy me not, let me by degrees, digest  
My joys— within, my Lords Francisco, Pedro.  Enter Francisco, Pedro, Maria, Roderigo, Clara 
Come all at once, I have a World within me,  
I am not mortal sure, I am not mortal,  
My honourable Lord, partake my blessings.  
Count Alvarez lives here in my house;  
Your Son my Lord, Francisco, Don John  
Is the condemned man falsely accused of theft,  
This my Lord Pedro, is my Sister Guyamare,  
Madam, this Constanza mine own Child,  
And I am a wondrous merry Man,  
Without the Prisoner.  Enter Alvarez, Lewys, Don John, Diego, Sancho, Soto, and Cardocha. Lew. 
Here free and acquitted,  
By her whose folly drew her to this error,  
And she for satisfaction is assured  
To my wronged friend.  Car. 
I crave your pardons,  
He whose I am, speaks for me.  Die. 
we both beg it.  Fer. 
Excellent, Admirable; my dear Brother.  Al. 
Never a happy man till now: young Lewis  
And I are reconciled.  Lew. 
For ever faithfully, religiously.  Omnes. 
My noble Lord most welcome.  Al. 
To all my heart pays what it owes, due thanks  
Most, most brave youth to thee.  Jo. 
I all this while,  
Stand but a looker on, and though my Father  
May justly tax the violence of my Passions,  
Yet if this Lady, Lady of my life  
Must be denied, let me be as I was,  
And die betimes.  Pre. 
You promised me.  Fer. 
I did,  
My Lord of Carcomo, you see their hearts  
Are joined already, so let our consents  
To this wished Marriage.  Fra. 
I forgive thine errors,  
Give me thy hand.  Fer. 
Me thine! but wilt thou love  
My Daughter, my Constanza?  Jo. 
As my bliss.  Pre. 
I thee as Life, Youth, Beauty, any thing  
That makes life comfortable.  Fer. 
Live together one, ever one.  Omnes. 
And Heaven Crown your happiness.  Ped. 
Now sir, how like you a Prison?  San. 
As Gallants do a Tavern, being stopped for a Reckoning, scurvily.  Soto. 
Though you Caged us up never so close, we Sung like cuckoos.  Fer. 
Well, well, you be yourself now.  San. 
myself, am I out of my Wits Soto?  Fer. 
Here now are none but honourable Friends,  
Will you to give a farewell to the life  
You ha' led as Gipsies, these being now found none,  
But noble in their Births, altered in Fortunes,  
Give it a merry shaking by the hand;  
And cry adieu to folly?  San. 
we'll shake our Hands, and our Heels if you'll give us leave. Dance.  Fer. 
On Brides, and bridegrooms to your Spanish Feasts,  
Invite with bent Knees all these Noble Guests.   
FINIS.