ACT V.

+Scene.+--_+Don Carlos's+ house._

_Enter +Diego+, +Flora+, and +Pedro+, accompanying the chair, groping as in the dark._

+Ped.+ Dame Flora and Signior Diego, go in there; and you, my friends, set down the chair, and let the lady out; go, there's money for you. I'll go fetch a candle.

[_+Diego+ and +Flora+ go in, and the chair being set in the door, +Octavio+ goes out into the room: +Pedro+ claps to the door, and goes away._

_Enter +Don Octavio+, +Diego+, +Flora+, at another door._

+Don O.+ What! put in all alone here i' th' dark, [_Groping as in the dark._ And the door shut upon me! Diego! Flora!

+Diego.+ Here am I, sir, and Mistress Flora too, Unless my sense of feeling fails me.

+Don O.+ I can't conjecture where we are. I durst not So much as peep out of the chair since Flora Gave me the warning; but, where'er I am, 'Tis better far than in the sergeants' hands.

+Flo.+ Though now i' th' dark, I know well where we are. I have too often walk'd the streets, Octavio, From your house hither, upon Cupid's errands, Not to know the back-door of Carlos his Apartment: 'tis there, I'm sure, w' are now.

+Don O.+ Curse on thee, Flora! hadst thou lost thy wits, Not to let me know it sooner?

+Diego.+ A gipsy told me by my palm, long since, A sour-fac'd damsel should be my undoing.

+Flo.+ Suspend awhile your apprehensions, sir; You may escape before the candles come. The door was wont to open on this side; If not, I have another way in store. [_+Octavio+ goes to the door._

+Don O.+ Flora, I cannot make the lock go back.

[_+Pedro+ unlocks it on the other side, and coming in with a candle, meets with +Octavio+, and starting back and stumbling, lets the candle fall, then running out again, double-locks the door._

+Diego.+ Nay then, i' faith, w' are fast: I heard him give The key a double turn. [_+Diego+ takes up the candle._ Here's a fair trial for your maiden breath! Flora, blow't in again; let's owe your mouth More light than yet your eyes could e'er impart.

+Flo.+ Light's cast away on such an owl as you; But yet I'll try. [_+Flora+ blows the candle in._

+Diego.+ Thanks, gentle Flora, to your virgin puff; 'Tis a strong breath that can o'ercome a snuff. [_Aside._ But I had rather't had been let alone: If I must needs be kill'd, unless it were Behind my back, I'd have it i' th' dark; For I hate to be kill'd in my own presence.

+Don O.+ What must we do, Flora I all my hope's in you.

+Flo.+ W' have yet some room for hope. There's a back-stairs Beyond that inner chamber, which goes down Into the garden: if the door be open, As certainly it is, the way is easy.

+Don O.+ Come, let's lose no time. Prythee, guide us, Flora. [_Exeunt._

_Scene changes to +Don Henrique's+ house. Enter +Don Henrique+._

+Don H.+ As well pleas'd as I am to find my honour Less desperate than I thought, I cannot rest Till I have drawn from Porcia a confession Of the whole truth before she goes to bed. She's in her chamber now, unless by new Enchantments carried thence.

_As he is going towards +Porcia's+ chamber, enter +Don Carlos+ in haste._

+Don O.+ I can't imagine what should make Don Henrique Quit the corregidor's till we return'd: One of his servants tells me he's come home. O, here he is, Now shall I raise a storm Which (if we do not take a special care) Will scarce b' allay'd without a shower of blood; Yet I must venture't, since it so imports Our friendship and the honour of our house. [_Aside._ Happiness is such a stranger to mankind [_Addressing to +Don Henrique+._ That, like to forc'd motion, it is ever strongest At the first setting out; then languishing With time, grows weary of our company: But to misfortunes we so subject are, That, like to natural motion, they acquire More force in their progression.

+Don H.+ What means this philosophical preamble?

+Don C.+ You'll know too soon, I fear.

+Don H.+ Don Carlos, I am so well recover'd From all m' inquietudes, that for the future I dare defy the malice of my stars To cause a new relapse into distemper.

+Don C.+ Cousin, I'm much surpris'd with this great change: But since y' are such a master of your passions, I'll spare my ethics, and proceed to give you In short the narrative of our success. Our worthy kinsman the corregidor, Forward to serve you in th' affair I mention'd, Was pleas'd to go along with me in person With a strong band of sergeants to the place Where I, attended by your servants, led him. Cousin, 'twas there;--it wounds my heart to speak it, And I conjure you summon all your patience-- 'Twas there I found----

+Don H.+ Whom, cousin, did you find? for since I'm sure You found no Porcia there, my concernments In your discoveries are not very likely To discompose me.

+Don C.+ I would to heaven we had not found her there!

+Don H.+ What's that you say, Don Carlos? My sister there?

+Don C.+ Yes, sir, your sister.

+Don H.+ My sister? that's good, i' faith; ha, ha, ha!

+Don C.+ Why do you laugh! Is the dishonour of Our family becoming a laughing matter? This is a worse extreme, methinks, than t'other.

+Don H.+ How can I choose but laugh, to see you dream? Awake, for heaven's sake, and recall your senses. Porcia there, said you?

+Don C.+ Yes, sir, Porcia, I say; your sister Porcia; And, which is more, 'twas in Octavio's house.

+Don H.+ Why, sure, y' are not in earnest, cousin?

+Don C.+ As sure as y' are alive, I found her there.

+Don H.+ Then you transport me, sir, beyond all patience. Why, cousin, if she has been still at home, Antonio seen and entertain'd her here, Accompani'd by Camilla; if even now I left them there within, is't possible You should have found her in Octavio's house? To be here and there too at the same time! None, sure, but Janus with his double face Can e'er unfold this mystery.

+Don C.+ Let me advise you, abuse not yourself; I tell you positive'y, I found her there: And, by the same token, her waiting-woman Flora was there attending her.

+Don H.+ Flora! Dear cousin, do not still persist Thus to affirm impossibilities.

+Don C.+ Sure, you are making some experiment Upon my temper, and would fain provoke My patience to some such high disorder, That I should ne'er hereafter have the face, When you are in your fits, to play the stoic.

+Don H.+ Cousin, I swear to you upon my honour, 'Tis not above a quarter of an hour Since I did speak with Porcia and your sister In that very apartment, and am now Returning to them in my sister's chamber.

+Don C.+ And, sir, I swear to you upon my honour, 'Tis not above a quarter of an hour, Since I left Porcia carrying in a chair From Don Octavio's house, and your man Pedro Leading the chairmen to mine, and follow'd By Flora; whilst I came to find you out, To acquaint you with this unpleasing news, But fit for you to know as soon as might be.

+Don H.+ This question, cousin, may be soon decided: Pray, come along, her chamber's not far off.

+Don C.+ And my house but the next door; let's go thither.

+Don H.+ You'll quickly find your error, cousin.

+Don C.+ And you'll as soon be undeceiv'd. But stay: Here comes your servant, whom I left to guard her: He'll instantly convince you of the truth.

_Enter +Pedro+._

+Ped.+ O sir!----

+Don H.+ What brings yon hither, Pedro?

+Ped.+ Give me my albricias,[69] sir; I bring you The rarest news: your enemy Octavio-- I'm quite out of breath----

+Don H.+ What does the varlet mean?

+Ped.+ Sir, I suppose Don Carlos has inform'd you That he left me to see your sister Porcia, With Flora and Diego, Oetavio's man, Safely convey'd t' his house.

+Don C.+ See now, Don Henrique: who was i' the right!

+Ped.+ I did as he commanded me, and put them All three into Don Carlos's antechamber, Porcia in the same chair which brought her thither, And for more safety, double-lock'd the door, Whilst I went down in haste to fetch some candles.

+Don H.+ As sure as death, this madness is infectious; My man is now in one of Carlos's fits.

+Ped.+ Returning with some lights a moment after, I no sooner open'd the door, but, heavens! Who should I see there, standing just before me, In the selfsame place where I had left Porcia, But Octavio, your enemy Octavio.

+Don H.+ Here is some witchcraft, sure. What can this mean?

+Ped.+ Amaz'd at this sight, I let the candle fall, And clapp'd the door to; then double-lock'd it, And brought away the key.

+Don C.+ But how could he get in, if you be sure You lock'd the door when you went out for lights?

+Ped.+ I know not whether he was there before, Or got in after; but of this I'm sure, That there I have him now, and safe enough.

+Don H.+ Let's not, Don Carlos, now perplex ourselves With needless circumstances, when and how; Those queries are too phlegmatic for me: If the beast be i' th' toil, it is enough; Let us go seize him, for he must die.

_Enter +Don Antonio+._

+Don A.+ Pray, brother, what unhappy man is he Whom you so positively doom to death? I have a sword to serve you on all occasions Worthy of you and me.

+Don H.+ His intervening, Carlos, is unlucky. How shall we behave ourselves towards him In this business, so unfit for his knowledge?

+Don C.+ Cousin, you should consider with yourself [_+Carlos+ draws +Henrique+ aside._ What answer to return him: he's not a man To be put off with any slight pretences; Nor yet to be engag'd in such an action As bears th' appearance rather of brutality Than true honour. You know Antonio needs No fresh occasions to support his name. Who danger seek, are indigent of fame.

+Don H.+ I beg your patience, sir, but for one word With this gentleman my friend.

[_+Don Henrique+ addresses himself to +Don Antonio+._

+Don A.+ I'll attend your leisure. I find my coming has disorder'd 'em, [_Aside._ There's something they would fain conceal from me: All here is discompos'd, whate'er's the matter.

+Don H.+ I am a rogue, if I know what to do.

+Don C.+ Since the event's so dangerous and doubtful, 'Tis best, in my opinion, sir, to temporise.

+Don H.+ How easily men get the name of wise! To fear t' engage, is call'd to temporise: Sure, fear and courage cannot be the same, Yet th' are confounded by a specious name; And I must tamely suffer, because fools Are rul'd by nice distinctions of the schools. How I hate such cold complexions! [_He stamps._

+Don C.+ Why so transported? as if vehemence Were for your passion an approv'd defence.

+Don H.+ Who condemns passions, Nature he arraigns.

+Don C.+ Th' are useful succours, when they serve in chains: But he who throws the bridle on their necks, From a good cause will produce ill effects.

+Don H.+ Be th' effects what they will, I am resolv'd. I doubt not of your kind concurrence, sir, [_Addressing to +Don Antonio+._ In all the near concernments of a person Allied to you as I am; but, noble brother, It were against the laws of hospitality And civil breeding to engage a guest (Newly arriv'd after so long a journey) In an occasion where there may be danger.

+Don A.+ If such be the occasion, I must then Acquaint you freely, that I wear a sword, Which must not be excluded from your service. I'm sure you are too noble to employ yours In any cause not justifi'd by honour.

+Don H.+ Though with regret, I see, sir, I must yield To your excess of generosity, This only I shall say to satisfy Your just reflections, that my resentments Are grounded on affronts of such a nature That, as nothing but the offender's life Can e'er repair 'em, so, as to the forms Of taking my revenge, they can't admit Of the least scruple.

+Don A.+ Honour's my standard, and 'tis true that I Had rather fall, than blush for victory; But you are such a judge of honour's laws, That 'twere injurious to suspect your cause. Allow me, sir, th' honour to lead the way. [_Exeunt +Don Antonio+ and +Don Henrique+._

+Don C.+ If Porcia be there too (as I believe) 'Twill prove, I fear, a fatal tragedy; But should she not be there, yet 'tis too much For such a heart as mine, through ignorance To have betray'd a gentleman, though faulty, Into such cruel hands. I must go with them; But so resolv'd as, in this bloody strife, I'll salve my honour, or I'll lose my life. [_Exit._

_Scene changes to +Don Carlos's+ house. Enter +Don Octavio+, +Diego+, and +Flora+ with a candle._

+Flo.+ O th' unluckiness! I vow t' you, sir, I have scarce known that door e'er lock'd before.

+Don O.+ There's no remedy, Flora: I am now At the mercy of my enemies.

+Diego.+ Having broken into another's ground, 'Tis just, i' faith, you should be put i' th' pound.

+Don O.+ The tide of my ill fate is swoll'n so high, 'Twill not admit increase of misery; Since, amongst all the curses, there is none So wounds the spirit as privation: For 'tis not where we lie, but whence we fell; The loss of heaven's the greatest pain in hell. When I had sail'd the doubtful course of love, Had safely gain'd my port, and (far above My hopes) the precious treasure had secured For which so many storms I had endur'd: To be so soon from this great blessing torn, That's hard to say, if 'twere first dead or born, May doubtless seem such a transcendent curse, That even the Fates themselves could do no worse: Yet this I bore with an erected face. Since fortune, not my fault, caus'd my disgrace; But now my eyes unto the earth are bent, Conscious of meriting this punishment: For trusting a fond maid's officious care, My life and honour's taken in this snare; And thus I perish on this unseen shelf, Pursu'd by fate, and false unto myself. Flora, when I am dead, I pray present [_He pulls out his tablets._ These tablets to your lady; there she'll find My last request, with reasons which I give, That for my sake she would vouchsafe to live. Give me the candle, Flora.

[_+Octavio+ sets the candle on a table, and sits down to write in his tablets._

+Diego.+ A double curse upon all love in earnest, All constant love: 'tis still accompanied With strange disasters, or else ends in that Which is the worst of all disasters--marriage.

+Flo.+ Sure, you could wish that everybody living Had such a soul of quicksilver as yours, That can fix nowhere.

+Diego.+ Why' 'twould not be the worse for you, dear Flora; You then might hope in time to have your turn, As well as those who have much better faces.

+Flo.+ You, I presume, sir, would be one o' th' latest, Which I should hear of; yet 'tis possible That one might see you before you should be Welcome.

+Diego.+ She has wit and good-humour, excellent Ingredients to pass away the time; And I have kindness for her person too; But that will end with marriage, and possibly Her good-humour; for I have seldom known The husband and the wife make any music, Though when asunder they can play their parts. Well, friend Diego, I advise you to look Before you leap, for if you should be coupled To a yoke, instead of a yoke-fellow, 'Tis likely you may wear it to your grave. Yet, honest Diego, now I think on't better, Your dancing and your vaulting days are done: Faith, all your pleasures are three storeys high, They are come up to your mouth; you are now For ease and eating, the only joys of life; And there's no cook, no dry-nurse, like a wife.

+Don O.+ Here, take my tablets, Flora: sure, they'll spare Thy life for thy sex's sake; but for poor Diego----

+Diego.+ Why, sir, they'll never offer to kill me? There's nothing in the world I hate like death.

+Don O.+ Since death's the passage to eternity, To be for ever happy we must die.

+Diego.+ 'Tis very true; but most that die would live, If to themselves they could new leases give.

+Don O.+ We must possess our souls with such indifference, As not to wish nor fear to part from hence.

+Diego.+ The first I may pretend to, for I swear I do not wish to part: 'tis true, I fear.

+Don O.+ Fear! why, death's only cruel when she flies, And will not deign to close the weeping eyes.

+Diego.+ That is a cruelty I can forgive, For I confess I'm not afraid to live.

+Don O.+ We shall still live, though 'tis by others' breath-- By our good fame, which is secur'd by death.

+Diego.+ But we shall catch such colds, sir, under ground, That we shall never hear Fame's trumpet sound.

+Don O.+ 'Tis but returning, when from hence we go, As rivers to their mother-ocean flow.

+Diego.+ We know our names and channels whilst w' are here; W' are swallow'd in that dark abyss when there.

+Don O.+ Engulf'd in endless joys and perfect rest, Unchangeable, i' th' centre of the bless'd.

+Diego.+ Hark, I hear a noise--

[_The noise of the opening of a door. +Diego+ runs to the door, looks into the next room, then comes running to +Octavio+._

+Diego.+ O sir, w' are lost! I sea two female giants Coming most terribly upon us.

+Don O.+ Away, you fearful fool----

_Enter +Camilla+ and +Porcia+, the one with a key, the other with a candle._

+Por.+ I'm confident nobody saw us pass From th' other house.

+Cam.+ However, let us go through my brother's quarter, And open the back-door into the street; 'Tis good in all events t' have a retreat More ways than one. [_A door claps behind, and both look back._

+Por.+ O heavens, our passage is cut off! The wind has shut the door through which we came.

+Cam.+ The accident's unlucky: 'tis a spring lock, That opens only on the other side.

+Por.+ Let's on the faster, and make sure of th' other-- [_Seeing +Octavio+, she starts._ Octavio here! [_+Octavio+ hearing them, starts up._

+Don O.+ Porcia in this place! may I trust my senses, Or does my fancy form these chimeras?

+Diego.+ Either we sleep, and dream extravagantly, Or else the fairies govern in this house. [_+Flora+ runs to +Porcia+._

+Flo.+ Ah, dearest mistress! you shall never make me Quit you so again.

+Por.+ But can that be Octavio?

+Don O.+ I was Octavio; but I am at present So much astonish'd, I am not myself.

+Cam.+ What can the meaning of this vision be? [_+Don Octavio+ approaches +Porcia+._

+Don O.+ My dearest Porcia, how is't possible To find you in this place, my friend Antonio Having so generously undertaken Your protection?

+Por.+ Did he not yours so too? and yet I find Octavio here, where he is more expos'd Than I to certain ruin. I am loth To say 'tis he who has betray'd us both.

+Don O.+ Antonio false? It is impossible.

+Diego.+ 'Tis but too evident.

+Don O.+ Peace, slave! he is my noble friend, of noble blood, Whose fame's above the level of those tongues That bark by custom at the brightest virtues, As dogs do at the moon.

+Por.+ How hard it is for virtue to suspect! Ah, Octavio! we have been both deceiv'd. This vile Antonio is the very man To whom my brother without my consent Or knowledge has contracted me in Flanders.

+Don O.+ Antonio the man to whom you are contracted? Porcia the bride whom he is come to marry?

+Por.+ The very same.

+Don O.+ Why did you not acquaint me with it sooner?

+Por.+ Alas! I have not seen you since I knew it; But those few hours such wonders have produc'd As exceed all belief, and ask more time Than your unsafe condition in this place Will allow me to make you comprehend it.

+Cam.+ Cousin, I cannot blame your apprehensions, Nor your suspicion of Antonio's friendship; But I am so possess'd with the opinion Of his virtue, I shall as soon believe Impossibilities as his apostasy From honour.

+Don O.+ What's her concernment in Antonio, Porcia?

+Por.+ O, that's the strangest part of our sad story, And which requires most time to let you know it [_A blaze of light appears at the window, and a noise without._ See, Flora, at the window, what's that light And noise we hear. [_+Flora+ goes to the window._

+Flo.+ O madam, we are all undone! I see Henrique, Carlos, and their servants, with torches All coming hither; and, which is wonderful, Antonio leading them with his sword drawn.

+Cam.+ Thou dream'st, distracted wench? Antonio false? It is impossible----

[_+Camilla+ runs to the window, and turning back, says_--

All she has said is in appearance true. There is some hidden mystery, which thus Abuses us; for I shall ne'er believe Antonio can transgress the rules of friendship.

+Don O.+ Friendship's a specious name, made to deceive Those whose good-nature tempts them to believe: The traffic of good offices 'mongst friends Moves from ourselves, and in ourselves it ends: When competition brings us to the test, Then we find friendship is self-interest.

+Por.+ Ye pow'rs above! what pleasure can ye take To persecute submitting innocence?

+Don O.+ Retire, dear Porcia, to that inner room: For should thy cruel brother find thee here, He's so revolted from humanity, He'll mingle thine with my impurer blood.

+Por.+ That were a kind of contract. Let him come, We'll meet at once marriage and martyrdom.

+Don O.+ Soul of my life, retire.

+Por.+ I will not leave you.

+Don O.+ Thou preserv'st me by saving of thyself: For they can murder only half of me, Whilst that my better part survives in thee.

+Por.+ I will die too, Octavio, to maintain That different causes form the same effects: 'Tis courage in you men, love in our sex.

+Don O.+ Though souls no sexes have, when w' are above, If we can know each other, we may love.

+Por.+ I'll meet you there above: here take my word. [_+Don Octavio+ takes her hand and kisses it._ This Porcia knows the way of joining souls, As well as th' other, when she swallow'd coals.

[_They retire to the other room, +Porcia+ leaning on +Camilla+, and +Octavio+ waits on them to the door._

+Diego.+ Nay, if y' are good at that, the devil take The hindmost. 'Tis for your sake, fair Flora, [_Taking +Flora+ by the hand._ I shun these honourable occasions. Having no weapon, sir, 'tis fit that I March off with the baggage.

[_Turning to +Don Octavio+. Exeunt +Diego+ and +Flora+._

+Don O.+ I'm now upon the frontiers of this life, There's but one step to immortality; And, since my cruel fortune has allow'd me No other witness of my tragic end But a false friend and barbarous enemy, I'll leave my genius to inform the world My life and death was uniform: as I Liv'd firm to love and honour, so I die. [_Draws his sword._ Look down, ye spirits above; for if there be A sight on earth worthy of you to see, 'Tis a brave man, pursu'd by unjust hate, Bravely contending with his adverse fate. [_Waving his sword._ Stay till this heaven-born soul puts off her earth, And she'll attend ye to her place of birth.

_Enter +Don Antonio+, +Don Henrique+, +Don Carlos+, and +Pedro+, their swords drawn; +Don Antonio+ before the rest._

+Don A.+ Where is the man whose insolence and folly Has so misled him to affront my friend?

+Don O.+ Here is the man thou seek'st, and he whom thou So basely hast betray'd.

+Don A.+ O heavens! what is't I see? It is Octavio, My friend.

+Don O.+ Not thy friend, Antonio, but 'tis Octavio, Who by thy perfidy has been betray'd To this forlorn condition; but, vile man, Thou now shalt pay thy treachery with thy life. [_+Don Octavio+ makes at +Don Antonio+._

+Don A.+ Hold, Octavio! though thy injurious error May transport thee, it shall not me, beyond The bounds of honour. Heaven knows I thought Of nothing less than what I find--Octavio In this place.

+Don H.+ What pause is this, Antonio? All your fervour In the concernments of a brother-in-law Reduc'd to a tame parley with our enemy? Do all the promises you have made to me, T' assist my just revenge, conclude in this?

+Don O.+ Do all the promises you have made to me, T' assist my virtuous love, conclude in this?

+Don H.+ Where is your wonted bravery? Where your kindness to such a near ally?

+Don O.+ Where is your former honour? where your firmness To such an ancient friend?

+Don A.+ What course shall my distracted honour steer, Betwixt these equal opposite engagements? [_Aside._

+Don H.+ What, demur still? nay, then I'll right myself.

[_+Don Henrique+ makes at +Don Octavio+; +Don Antonio+ turns on +Don Octavio's+ side._

+Don A.+ Who attacks Octavio must pass through me.

+Don C.+ I must lay hold on this occasion. [_Aside._ Good cousin, I conjure you to restrain Your passion for awhile. There lies conceal'd Some mystery in this which, once unfolded, May reconcile this difference.

+Don H.+ Sweetly propos'd, sir; an accommodation! Think'st thou my anger's like a fire of straw, Only to blaze and then expire in smoke? Think'st thou I can forget my name and nation, And barter for revenge, when honour bleeds? His life must pay this insolence, or mine. [_He makes at +Don Octavio+ again; +Don Antonio+ interposes._

+Don A.+ Mine must protect his, or else perish with him.

+Don H.+ Since neither faith nor friendship can prevail, 'Tis time to try what proof you are, Antonio, Against your own near interest. Know that the man, Whom you protect against my just revenge, Has seconded his insolence to me By foul attempts upon my sister's honour, Your Porcia's, sir. If this will not inflame you----

[_+Don Antonio+ turns from +Don Octavio+ and beholds him with a stern countenance._

+Don O.+ How! I attempt your sister's honour, Henrique? [_+Don Antonio+ turns and looks sternly upon +Don Henrique+._ The parent of your black designs, the devil, Did ne'er invent a more malicious falsehood; 'Tis true that I have serv'd the virtuous Porcia With such devotion and such spotless love, That, though unworthy, yet she has been pleas'd To recompense my passion with esteem;

[_+Don Antonio+ turns and looks sternly upon +Don Octavio+._

By which she has so chain'd me to her service, That here I vow either to live her prize, Or else in death to fall love's sacrifice.

+Don A.+ O heavens! what's that I hear? Thou blessed angel, Guardian of my honour, I now implore Thy powerful assistance, to preserve That reputation which I hitherto By virtuous actions have maintain'd unblemish'd. In vain, Don Henrique, you design to change [_He pauses a little, and rubs his forehead._ My resolutions: it must ne'er be said That passion could return Antonio From the strict rules of honour. Sir, I tell you, Nothing can make me violate my first Engagement.

+Don H.+ Nay, then, thou shalt die too, perfidious man. Ho! Geraldo, Pedro, Leonido!

_Enter +Geraldo+, +Pedro+, and +Leonido+, with their swords drawn; they join with +Don Henrique+; +Don Carlos+ interposes._

+Don C.+ For heaven's sake, cousin, draw not on yourself The horrid infamy of assassinating Persons of noble blood by servile hands!

+Don H.+ Do you defend them too? Kill 'em, I say.

+Don A.+ Retire, Octavio, I'll sustain their shock.

+Don O.+ Octavio retire!

+Don A.+ Trust me, you must, they will surround us else; Through that narrow passage they'll assail us With less advantage.

[_They retire, fighting, off the stage, +Don Henrique+ and his men pursuing them, and +Don Carlos+ endeavouring to stop +Don Henrique.+_

+Don H.+ What, d'ye give back, ye mighty men of fame?

+Don A.+ Don Henrique, you shall quickly find 'tis honour, Not fear, makes me retire. [_Exeunt._

_Enter presently +Don Antonio+ and +Don Octavio+ at another door, which +Don Antonio+ bolts._

+Don A.+ Now we shall have a breathing while at least, Octavio, and time to look about us. Pray, see yon other door be fast.

[_+Don Octavio+ steps to the door where they went out, and +Don Henrique+ bounces at the door they came in at._

+Don H.+ Geraldo, fetch an iron bar to force The door.

[_Within, aloud. +Don Antonio+ goes to both the doors, to see if they be fast._

+Don A.+ So, 'tis now as I could wish it.

+Don O.+ What do you mean, generous Antonio?

+Don A.+ To kill thee now myself:--having perform'd What my engagement did exact from me In your defence 'gainst others, my love now Requires its dues, as honour has had his. There's no protection for you from my sword But in your own, or in your frank renouncing All claim to Porcia; she is so much mine, That none must breathe and have the vanity Of a pretension to her whilst I live.

+Don O.+ I never will renounce my claims to Porcia, But still assert them by all noble ways: Yet, sir, this hand shall never use a sword (Without the last compulsion) 'gainst that man Who has so much oblig'd me. No, Antonio, You are securely guarded by the favours Which you so frankly have conferr'd upon me.

+Don A.+ Pray, sir, let not your pretended gratitude Enervate your defence: 'tis not my custom To serve my friends with prospects of return.

+Don O.+ And, sir, 'tis not my custom to receive An obligation, but with a purpose, And within the power of my return. Friendship, Antonio, is reciprocal. He that will only give, and not receive, Enslaves the person whom he would relieve.

+Don A.+ Your rule is right; but you apply it wrong. It was Octavio, my camerade in arms And ancient friend, whom I design'd to serve; Not that disloyal man who has invaded My honour and my love. 'Tis the intent Which forms the obligation, not th' event.

+Don O.+ I call those pow'rs, which both discern and punish, To witness for me that I never knew You e'er pretended to Don Henrique's sister, Before I came within these fatal walls: This I declare only to clear myself From th' imputation of disloyalty, And to prevent the progress of your error.

+Don A.+ How can I think you should speak truth to me Who am a witness y' have been false to her, To whom you now profess so high devotion?

+Don O.+ I false to Porcia! take heed, Antonio, So foul an injury provokes too much. But, sir, I must confess I owe you more Than the forgiveness of one gross mistake.

+Don A.+ Rare impudence! I must not trust my senses.

+Don O.+ If we cannot adjust this competition, Let's charge our envious fortunes, not our passions, With this fatal breach of friendship.

+Don A.+ Leave your discourses, and defend yourself; Either immediately renounce all claims To Porcia, or this must speak the rest. [_Shaking his sword._

+Don O.+ Nay, then I must reply.

[_They fight. A noise, as if the door were broken open._

_Enter +Don Henrique+, +Don Carlos+, +Leonido+, and +Geraldo+, with their swords drawn._

+Don H.+ What's this! Antonio fighting with Octavio? This bravery is excessive, gallant friend, Not to allow a share in your revenge To him who's most concern'd: he must not fall Without some marks of mine.

[_+Don Henrique+ makes at +Don Octavio+, and +Don Antonio+ turns to +Don Octavio's+ side._

+Don A.+ Nay, then my honour you invade anew, And, by assaulting him, revive in me My pre-engagements to protect and serve him Against all others.

+Don H.+ Why, were not you, Antonio, fighting with him? Were you not doing all you could to kill him?

+Don A.+ Henrique, 'tis true; but finding in my breast An equal strife 'twixt honour and revenge, I do, in just compliance with them both, Preserve him from your sword, to fall by mine.

+Don C.+ Brave man, how nicely he does honour weigh! Justice herself holds not the scales more even.

+Don H.+ My honour suffers more as yet than yours, And I must have a share in the revenge.

+Don A.+ My honour, sir, is so sublim'd by love, 'Twill not admit comparison or rival.

+Don H.+ Either he must renounce all claims to Porcia, Or die immediately.

+Don A.+ Y' are i' the right: that he must do, or die; But by no other hand than mine.

+Don O.+ Cease your contention, and turn all your swords Against this breast! whilst Porcia and I have breath, She must be mine, there's no divorce but death.

+Don H.+ I'll hear no more, protect him if thou canst: Kill the slave, kill him, I say!

[_+Don Henrique+ makes at him, and +Don Carlos+ endeavours to interpose._

+Don C.+ For heaven's sake, hold a moment! certainly There's some mistake lies hidden here, which (clear'd) Might hinder these extremes.

[_+Don Henrique+ and his servants press +Don Antonio+ and +Don Octavio+. +Flora+ peeps out, and, seeing them fight, cries out_ Camilla! Porcia! _+Camilla+ and +Porcia+ looking out, both shriek, and then run out upon the stage._

_Enter +Porcia+ and +Camilla+ from the inner room._

+Por.+ Don Henrique!

+Cam.+ Antonio! Carlos!

+Por.+ Octavio!

_+Cam.+ and +Por.+ together_. Hear us but speak! hear us but speak!

+Don H.+ By heavens, 'tis Porcia! why, how came she here?

+Don C.+ Why, did not I tell you she was brought hither By my directions? you would not believe me.

+Don H.+ But how then could Octavio come hither?

+Don C.+ Nay, that heaven knows, you heard as well as I Your man's relation.

+Don H.+ Ah, thou vile woman, that I could destroy Thy memory with thy life!

[_He offers to run at +Porcia+: +Don Antonio+ interposes._

+Don A.+ Hold, sir, that must not be!

+Don H.+ What, may not I do justice upon her Neither?

+Don A.+ No, sir: although I have not yet the honour To know who this lady is, I have this night Engag'd myself both to secure and serve her.

+Don C.+ He knows not Porcia. Who was i' the right, Don Henrique, you or I?

+Don H.+ He not know Porcia! why, 'tis not an hour Since I saw him entertaining her at home, Sure w' are enchanted, and all we see's illusion.

+Cam.+ Allow me, Henrique, to unspell these charms. Who is't, Octavio, you pretend to? speak.

+Don O.+ You might have spar'd that question, madam: none Knows so well as you, 'tis Porcia I adore.

+Don A.+ Porcia's my wife! disloyal man, thou diest. [_Offers to make at +Don Octavio+._

+Cam.+ Hold, sir! which is the Porcia you lay claim to?

+Don A.+ Can you doubt of that? why, sure, you know too well The conquest that you made so long ago[70] Of my poor heart in Flanders.

+Don C.+ Conquest! poor heart! Flanders! what can this mean?

+Don H.+ New riddles every moment do arise, And mysteries are born of mysteries.

+Don C.+ Sure, 'tis the pastime of the destinies To mock us for pretending to be wise.

+Cam.+ Thanks be to heaven, our work draws near an end. Cousin, it belongs to you to finish it.

+Por.+ To free you from that labyrinth, Antonio, In which a slight mistake, not rectifi'd, Involv'd us all, know the suppos'd Porcia, Whom you have lov'd, is the true Camilla.

+Cam.+ And you, Don Henrique, know that Don Octavio Has always been your sister's faithful lover, And only feign'd a gallantry to me To hide his real passion for my cousin From your discerning eyes.

+Don A.+ Generous Octavio!

+Don O.+ Brave Antonio! how happy are we both. [_They embrace._ Both in our loves and friendships!

+Don A.+ Ah, how the memory of our crosses pass'd Heightens our joys when we succeed at last!

+Don O.+ Our pleasures in this world are always mix'd: 'Tis in the next where all our joys are fix'd.

[_+Camilla+ takes +Don Antonio+ by the hand, and leads him to +Don Carlos+._

+Cam.+ This, my dear brother, is that brave commander To whom you owe your life and liberty; And I much more--the safety of my honour.

+Don C.+ Is this that gallant leader who redeem'd us With so much valour from the enemy?

+Cam.+ The very same.

+Don C.+ Why did you not acquaint me with it sooner? 'Twas ill done, Camilla.

+Cam.+ Alas! my dearest brother, gratitude, [_Drawing +Don Carlos+ aside._ Conspiring with the graces of his person, So soon possess'd him of my heart, that I, Asham'd of such a visionary love, Durst never trust my tongue with my own thoughts.

+Don C.+ 'Tis enough. Here, sir, take from me her hand, [_Addressing to +Don Antonio+._ Whose heart your merit has long since made yours. [_+Don Antonio+ takes +Camilla's+ hand and kisses it._

+Don A.+ Sir, with your leave and hers, I seal the vows Of my eternal faith unto you both.

+Don C.+ But let's take heed, Antonio, lest, whilst we Are joying in our mutual happiness, Don Henrique's scarcely yet composed distemper Revive not, and disorder us afresh: I like not his grim posture.

+Don A.+ 'Tis well thought on; let's approach him.

[+Don Octavio+, _holding +Porcia+ by the hand, advances towards +Don Henrique+._

+Don O.+ Here with respect we wait your confirmation Of that which seems to be decreed above, Though travers'd by unlucky accidents. This lady, your incomparable sister, Can witness that I never did invade Your passion for Camilla; and Pedro's death Happen'd by your mistaken jealousy. The causes of your hate being once remov'd, 'Tis just. Don Henrique, the effects should cease.

+Don H.+ I shall consult my honour----

+Don C.+ You cannot take a better councillor In this case than your own and sister's honour; What, to secure them both, could have been wish'd Beyond what fate has of itself produc'd?

+Don H.+ How hard it is to act upon constraint! That which I could have wish'd, I now would fly, Since 'tis obtruded by necessity. 'Tis fit that I consent, but yet I must Still seem displeas'd, that m' anger may seem just [_Aside._

+Don A.+ Noble Don Henrique, you may reckon me To be as truly yours by this alliance, As if a brother's name subsisted still.

+Don H.+ Well, I must yield, I see, or worse will follow. [_Aside._ He is a fool who thinks by force or skill To turn the current of a woman's will: Since fair Camilla is Antonio's lot, I Porcia yield to Don Antonio's friend. Our strength and wisdom must submit to fate: Stripp'd of my love, I will put off my hate. Here take her hand, and may she make you, sir,

[_+Don Henrique+ takes +Porcia+ by the hand, and gives her to +Don Octavio+._

Happier than she has done me.

_+Diego+ and +Flora+ advance._

+Flo.+ Had e'er disorders such a rare come-off? Methinks 'twould make a fine plot for a play.

+Diego.+ Faith, Flora, I should have the worst of that; For, by the laws of comedy, 'twould be My lot to marry you.

+Don O.+ Well thought on, Diego, tho' 'tis spoke in jest: We cannot do a better thing in earnest Than to join these who seem to have been made For one another. What say'st thou to it, Flora?

+Flo.+ Troth, I have had so many frights this night, That I am e'en afraid to lie alone. [_+Diego+ takes her by the hand._

+Diego.+ Give me thy hand, sweet Flora, 'tis a bargain, I promise thee, dear spouse, I'll do my best To make thee first repent this earnest jest.

+Flo.+ You may mistake: we have a certain way, By going halves, to match your foulest play.

+Don C.+ Since this last happy scene is in my house, You'll make collation with me, ere you part.

_+Don A.+ and +Don O.+_ Agreed, agreed, agreed!

+Don A.+ Thus end the strange Adventures of Five Hours, As sometimes blust'ring storms, in gentle showers.[71] [_Addressing to the Pit._

+Don O.+ Thus, noble gallants, after blust'ring lives, You'll end as we have done, in taking wives.

+Diego.+ Hold, sirs, there's not an end as yet; for then Come your own brats and those of other men.

+Don H.+ Besides the cares of th' honour of your race Which, as you know, is my accursed case. [_Addressing to the Boxes._

+Cam.+ You, ladies, whilst unmarried, tread on snares: Married, y' are cumber'd with domestic cares.

+Por.+ If handsome, y' are by fools and fame attack'd; If ugly, then by your own envy rack'd.

+Flo.+ We by unthrifty parents forc'd to serve, When fed are slaves, and when w' are free, we starve.

+Don C.+ Which put together, we must needs confess, This world is not the scene of happiness.

FOOTNOTES:

[69] A reward or gratuity given to one that brings good news.--Stevens's "Spanish Dictionary."

[70] All the copies have it _so long ago_, but Reed followed Dodsley in the absurd error of substituting _some days ago_.--_Collier._

[71] Here the play ended until the third edition which, as has been already noticed, varies materially from those that preceded it. The third edition also omits the original epilogues at the theatre and at court, which, as they are worth preserving, are now inserted in a note.--_Collier._

THE EPILOGUE.

_+Diego+ comes stealing in, and is followed by +Henrique+, who stays at the door and listens._

+Diego.+ Come, gentlemen! Let the _Dons_ and _Monsieurs_ say what they will, For our parts, we are for _Old England_ still. Here's a fine Play indeed, to lay the scene In three houses of the same town, O mean! Why, we have several plays, where I defy The devil to tell where the scene does lie: Sometimes in _Greece_, and then they make a step To _Transylvania_, thence at one leap To _Greece_ again: this shows a ranging brain, Which scorns to be confined t' a town in _Spain._

_Then for the Plot._

The possible _Adventures of Five Hours_! A copious design! why, in some of ours Many of the adventures are impossible, Or, if to be achiev'd, no man can tell Within what time: this shows a rare invention, When the design's above your comprehension; Whilst here y' are treated with a romance-tale. And a plot cover'd with a _Spanish_ veil.

_As for the Style._

It is as easy as a proclamation, As if the play were penn'd for the whole nation. None of those thund'ring lines, which used to crack Our breaths, and set your wits upon the rack. Who can admire this piece, or think it good? There's not one line but may be understood.

_The Raillery._

As innocent as if't had pass'd the test Of a full synod: not one bawdy jest! Nor any of those words of double sense, Which make the ladies, to show their innocence, Look so demure, whilst by a simp'ring smile The gallant shows he understands the style. But here you have a piece so subtly writ, Men must have wit themselves to find the wit. Faith, that's too much; therefore by my consent, We'll damn the play.

+Henrique.+ Think'st thou, impertinent, That these, who know the pangs of bringing forth [_Pointing to the Pit._ A living scene, should e'er destroy this birth? You ne'er can want such writers, who aspire To please the judges of that upper tier. The knowing are his peers, and for the rest Of the illiterate crowd (though finely dress'd), The author hopes he never gave them cause To think he'd waste his time for their applause. You then (most equal judges) freely give Your votes, whether this play should die or live.

THE EPILOGUE AT COURT.

We've pass'd the lords and commons, and are come At length, dread sir, to hear your final doom. 'Tis true your vassals, sir, may vote the laws. Their sanction comes from your divine applause. This shining circle then will all sit mute 'Till one pronounce from you _Le Roi le veut_.[72]

[72] These are the words still used by ancient usage whenever the royal assent is given to any bill that has passed through both Houses of Parliament.--_Collier._

EPILOGUE.

BY MR SMITH.

Our poet, gentlemen, thought to steal away, Hoping those wretched rhymes, i' th' end o' th' play, Might serve for epilogue; for truly he Takes epilogues for arrant bribery. H' observes your poet in our modern plays, Humbly showeth, and then as humbly prays; So that it can't be said, what they have writ Was without fear, though often without wit. He trusts (as ye say papists do) to merit; Leaves you (like quakers) to be mov'd by th' spirit. But since that epilogues are so much in vogue, Take this as prologue to the epilogue.

BY MR HARRIS.

Some, as soon as th' enter, we wish 'em gone, Taking their visit as a visitation: Yet when they go, there are certain grimaces (Which in plain English, is but making faces) That we, for manners' sake, to all allow. The poet's parting; don't rise, but smile and bow; And's back being turn'd, ye may take the liberty To turn him, and all h' has writ to raillery. Now, as I shall be sav'd, were I as you, I'd make no bones on't--why, 'tis but his due. A fop! in this brave, licentious age, To bring his musty morals on the stage? Rhyme us to reason, and our lives redress In metre, as Druids did the savages? Affront the freeborn vices of the nation? And bring dull virtue into reputation? Virtue! would any man of common sense Pretend to't? why, virtue now is impudence; And such another modest play would blast Our new stage, and put your palates out of taste. We told him, Sir, 'tis whisper'd in the pit This may be common sense, but 'tis not wit; That has a flaming spirit, and stirs the blood That's bawdry, said he, if rightly understood; Which our late poets make their chiefest tasks, As if they writ only to th' vizard-masks. Nor that poetic rage, which hectors heaven, Your writer's style, like's temper, 's grown more even; And he's afraid to shock their tender ears. Whose God, say they, 's the fiction of their fears; Your moral's to no purpose. He replied, Some men talk'd idly just before they died, And yet we heard them with respect. 'Twas all he said. Well, we may count him now as good as dead; And since ghosts have left walking, if you please, We'll let our virtuous poet rest in peace.

ALL MISTAKEN;

OR,

THE MAD COUPLE

_EDITION._

_All Mistaken; Or The Mad Couple. A Comedy, Acted by His Majestyes Servants, at the Theatre Royal. Written by the Honorable James Howard, Esq.; London, Printed by H. Brugis, for James Magnes in Russel-street, neer the Piazza, in Covent-garden, 1672. 4º._

This play formed part of the collection as originally published by Dodsley in 1744, but was excluded from the second and third editions. In the copies of 1672 and 1744, the arrangement of the lines was found very irregular, and the metre correspondingly corrupt. In the present reprint the text has been, to a large extent, reconstructed.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

+The Duke.+

+Ortellus+, _next of kin to the Duke; of an ambitious and treacherous nature._

+Arbatus+, _supposed brother to Artabella._

+Philidor+, _a mad kinsman of the Duke's, in love with Mirida._

+Zoranzo+, _the Duke's prisoner of war, in love with Amarissa._

+Pinguister+, } +Lean-man+, } _two ridiculous lovers of Mirida._

_Doctor to Pinguister._

_Tailor to Lean-man._

_Jailor._

_Servant to Philidor._

_Boy._

_Clown._

_Guard and attendances._

+Amphelia+, _in love with the Duke._

+Artabella+, _the Duke's sister, but taken for the sister of Arbatus._

+Mirida+, _Philador's mad mistress._

+Amarissa+, _in love with Zoranzo._

_Six Ladies._

_Three Nurses with children._

_Scene, Italy._

ALL MISTAKEN.