Part 7

_Jacin._ That's the way to prosper; however, so far I'll confess the truth to thee; at least if that don't do, nothing else will. Men are mighty simple in love-matters, Sir: when you suspect woman's a falling off, you fall a plaguing her to bring her on again, attack her with reason and a sour face: udslife, Sir, attack her with a fiddle, double your good humour----give her a ball----powder your perriwig at her----let her cheat you at cards a little, and I'll warrant all's right again. But to come upon a poor woman with the gloomy face of jealousy, before she gives the least occasion for't, is to set a complaisant rival in too favourable a light. Sir, Sir, I must tell you, I have seen those have ow'd their success to nothing else.

_Car._ Say no more; I have been to blame, but there shall be no more on't.

_Jac._ I should punish you but justly however for what's past, if I carried back what I have brought you; but I'm good-natur'd, so here 'tis; open it, and see how wrong you tim'd your jealousy.

_Car._ [Reads.] _If you love me with that tenderness you have made me long believe you do, this letter will be welcome; 'tis to tell you, you have leave to plead a daughter's weakness to a father's indulgence: and if you prevail with him to lay his commands upon me, you shall be as happy as my obedience to them can make you._ Leonora.

Then I shall be what man was never yet [_Kissing the Letter._] Ten thousand blessings on thee for thy news, I could adore thee as a Deity.

[_Embracing ~Jacin~._

_Jacin._ True flesh and blood, every inch of her, for all that.

_Car._ [Reads again.] _And if you prevail with him to lay his commands upon me, you shall be as happy as my obedience to them can make you._

O happy, happy _Carlos_! But what shall I say to thee for this welcome message? [_To ~Jacinta~._] Alas! I want words----But let this speak for me, and this, and this, and----

[_Giving her his ring, watch, and purse._

_San._ Hold, Sir; pray leave a little something for our board-wages. You can't carry 'em all, I believe: [_To ~Jacinta~._] shall I ease thee of this?

[_Offering to take the purse._

_Jacin._ No; but you may carry----That, sirrah.

[_Giving him a box o' th' ear._

_San._ The jade's grown purse-proud already.

_Car._ Well, dear _Jacinta_, say something to your charming mistress, that I am not able to say myself: But, above all, excuse my late unpardonable folly, and offer her my life to expiate my crime.

_Jacin._ The best plea for pardon will be never to repeat the fault.

_Car._ If that will do 'tis seal'd for ever.

_Jacin._ Enough; but I must be gone; success attend you with the old gentleman. Good-by t'ye, Sir.

[_Exit ~Jacin~._

_Car._ Eternal blessings follow thee.

_San._ I think she has taken them all with her; the jade has got her apron full.

_Car._ Is not that _Lorenzo_ coming this way?

_San._ Yes, 'tis he; for my part now I pity the poor gentleman.

_Enter ~Lorenzo~._

_Car._ I'll let him see at last I can be chearful too. Your servant, Don _Lorenzo_; how do you do this morning?

_Lor._ I thank you, Don _Carlos_, perfectly well both in body and mind.

_Car._ What! cur'd of your love, then?

_Lor._ No, nor I hope I never shall. May I ask you how 'tis with yours?

_Car._ Increasing every hour; we are very constant both.

_Lor._ I find so much delight in being so, I hope I never shall be otherwise.

_Car._ Those joys I am well acquainted with. But should lose them soon, were I to meet a cool reception.

_Lor._ That's every generous lover's case, no doubt; an angel could not fire my heart but with an equal flame.

_Car._ And yet you said you still lov'd _Leonora_.

_Lor._ And yet I said I lov'd her.

_Car._ Does she then return you----

_Lor._ Everything my passion can require.

_Car._ Its wants are small, I find.

_Lor._ Extended as the Heavens.

_Car._ I pity you.

_Lor._ He must be a Deity that does so.

_Car._ Yet I'm a mortal, and once more can pity you. Alas, _Lorenzo_, 'tis a poor cordial to an aching heart, to have the tongue alone announce it happy; besides 'tis mean, you should be more a man.

_Lor._ I find I have made you an unhappy one, so can forgive the boilings of your spleen.

_Car._ This seeming calmness might have the effect your vanity proposes by it; had I not a testimony of her love would (should I shew it) sink you to the center.

_Lor._ Yet still I'm calm as ever.

_Car._ Nay then have at your peace. Read that, and end the farce.

[_Gives him ~Leonora~'s letter._

_Lor._ [_Reads._] I have read it.

_Car._ And know the hand?

_Lor._ 'Tis _Leonora_'s; I have often seen it.

_Car._ I hope you then at last are satisfied.

_Lor._ I am, [_Smiling._] Good-morrow, _Carlos_.

[_Exit ~Lor~._

_San._ Sure he's mad, Master.

_Car._ Mad! say'st thou?

_San._ And yet by'r lady, that was a sort of a dry sober smile at going off.

_Car._ A very sober one! Had he shewn me such a letter, I had put on another countenance.

_San._ Ay, o' my conscience had you.

_Car._ Here's mystery in this----I like it not.

_San._ I see his man and confidant there, _Lopez_. Shall I draw on a _Scotch_ pair of boots, Master, and make him tell all?

_Car._ Some questions I must ask him; call him hither.

_San._ Hem, _Lopez_, hem!

_Enter ~Lopez~._

_Lop._ Who calls?

_San._ I, and my master.

_Lop._ I can't stay.

_San._ You can indeed, Sir.

[_Laying hold on him._

_Car._ Whither in such haste, honest _Lopez_! What! upon some love errand?

_Lop._ Sir, your servant; I ask your pardon, but I was going----

_Car._ I guess where; but you need not be shy of me any more, thy master and I are no longer rivals; I have yielded up the cause; the lady will have it so, so I submit.

_Lop._ Is it possible, Sir, shall I then live to see my master and you friends again?

_San._ Yes; and what's better, thou and I shall be friends too. There will be no more fear of Christian bloodshed. I give thee up _Jacinta_; she's a slippery hussy, so master and I are going to match ourselves elsewhere.

_Lop._ But is it possible, Sir, your honour should be in earnest? I'm afraid you are pleased to be merry with your poor humble servant.

_Car._ I'm not at present much dispos'd to mirth, my indifference in this matter is not so thoroughly form'd; but my reason has so far master'd my passion, to shew me 'tis in vain to pursue a woman whose heart already is another's. 'Tis what I have so plainly seen of late, I have rous'd my resolution to my aid, and broke my chains for ever.

_Lop._ Well, Sir, to be plain with you, this is the joyfullest news I have heard this long time; for I always knew you to be a mighty honest gentleman, and good faith it often went to the heart o' me to see you so abused. Dear, dear have I often said to myself (when they have had a private meeting just after you have been gone)----

_Car._ Ha!

_San._ Hold, Master, don't kill him yet.

[_To ~Car.~ aside._

_Lop._ I say I have said to myself, what wicked things are women, and what pity it is they should be suffer'd in a Christian country; what a shame they should be allow'd to play Will-in-the-wisp with men of honour, and lead them thro' thorns and briars, and rocks, and rugged ways, 'till their hearts are all torn to pieces, like an old coat in a fox-chace; I say, I have said to myself----

_Car._ Thou hast said enough to thyself, but say a little more to me: Where were these secret meetings thou talk'st of?

_Lop._ In sundry places, and by divers ways; sometimes in the cellar, sometimes in the garret, sometimes in the court, sometimes in the gutter; but the place where the kiss of kisses was given was----

_Car._ In Hell.

_Lop._ Sir!

_Car._ Speak, fury, what dost thou mean by the kiss of kisses?

_Lop._ The kiss of peace, Sir, the kiss of union; the kiss of consummation.

_Car._ Thou ly'st, villain.

_Lop._ I don't know but I may, Sir,----What the Devil's the matter now?

[_Aside._

_Car._ There's not a word of truth in all thy cursed tongue has utter'd.

_Lop._ No, Sir, I----I----believe there is not.

_Car._ Why then didst thou say it, wretch?

_Lop._ O----only in jest. Sir.

_Car._ I am not in a jesting condition.

_Lop._ Nor I at present, Sir.

_Car._ Speak then the truth, as thou wouldst do it at the hour of death.

_Lop._ Yes, at the gallows, and be turn'd off as soon as I've done.

[_Aside._

_Car._ What's that you murmur?

_Lop._ Nothing but a short prayer.

_Car._ I am distracted, and fright the wretch from telling me what I am upon the rack to know. [_Aside._] Forgive me, _Lopez_, I am to blame to speak thus harshly to thee: let this obtain thy pardon. [_Gives him money._] Thou see'st I am disturb'd.

_Lop._ Yes, Sir, I see I have been led into a snare; I have said too much.

_Car._ And yet you must say more; nothing can lessen my torment, but a farther knowledge of what causes my misery. Speak then! Have I any thing to hope?

_Lop._ Nothing; but that you may be a happier bachelor, than my master may probably be a married man.

_Car._ Married, say'st thou?

_Lop._ I did, Sir, and believe he'll say so too in a twelvemonth.

_Car._ O torment!----But give me more on't: When, how, to whom, where?

_Lop._ Yesterday, to _Leonora_, by the parson, in the pantry.

_Car._ Look to't, if this be false, thy life shall pay the torment thou hast given me: be gone.

_Lop._ With the body and the soul o'me.

[_Ex. ~Lopez~._

_San._ Base news, Master.

_Car._ Now my insulting rival's smile speaks out: O cursed, cursed woman!

_Enter ~Jacinta~._

_Jacin._ I'm come in haste to tell you, Sir, that as soon as the moon's up, my lady will give you a meeting in the close-walk by the back-door of the garden; she thinks she has something to propose to you will certainly get her father's consent to marry you.

_Car._ Past sufferance! this aggravation is not to be borne: go, thank her--with my curses: fly----and let them blast her, while their venom is strong.

[_Exit ~Car~._

_Jacin._----Won't thou explain? What's this storm for?

_San._ And dar'st thou ask me questions, smooth-faced iniquity, crocodile of _Nile_, syren of the rocks? Go carry back the too gentle answer thou hast received: only let me add with the poet:

_We are no fools, trollop, my Master nor me; And thy Mistress may go----to the Devil with thee._

[_Exit ~Sancho~._

_~Jacinta~ sola._

Am I awake!----I fancy not; a very idle dream this. Well: I'll go talk in my sleep to my lady about it; and when I awake, we'll try what interpretation we can make on't.

[_Exit._

+ACT+ II. +SCENE+ I.

_Enter ~Camillo~ and ~Isabella~._

=Isabella.=

How can you doubt my secrecy? Have you not proofs of it?

_Cam._ Nay I am determin'd to trust you; but are we safe here? can no body over-hear us?

_Isab._ Much safer than in a room. No body can come within hearing, before we see them.

_Cam._ And yet how hard 'tis for me to break silence!

_Isab._ Your secret sure must be of great importance.

_Cam._ You may be sure it is, when I confess 'tis with regret I own it e'en to you; and were it possible, you should not know it.

_Isab._ 'Tis frankly own'd, indeed; but 'tis not kind, perhaps not prudent; after what you know I already am acquainted with. Have not I been bred up with you? And am I ignorant of a secret, which were it known----

_Cam._ Would be my ruin; I confess it would. I own you know why both my birth and sex are thus disguised; you know how I was taken from my cradle to secure the estate, which had else been lost by young _Camillo_'s death; but which is now safe in my supposed father's hands, by my passing for his son; and 'tis because you know all this, I have resolved to open farther wonders to you. But before I say any more, you must resolve one doubt, which often gives me great disturbance; whether Don _Alvarez_ ever was himself privy to the Mystery which has disguised my sex, and made me pass for his son?

_Isab._ What you ask me, is a thing has often perplex'd my thoughts, as well as yours, nor could my mother ever resolve the doubt. You know when that young child _Camillo_ dy'd, in whom was wrapt up so much expectation, from the great estate his uncle's will (even before he came into the world) had left him; his mother made a secret of his death to her husband _Alvarez_, and readily fell in with a proposal made her to take you (who then was just _Camillo_'s Age) and bring you up in his room. You have heard how you were then at nurse with my mother, and how your own was privy and consenting to the plot; but Don _Alvarez_ was never led into it by 'em.

_Cam._ Don't you then think it probable his wife might after tell him?

_Isab._ 'Twas ever thought nothing but a death-bed repentance cou'd draw it from her to any one; and that was prevented by the suddenness of her exit to t'other world, which did not give her even time to call Heaven's mercy on her. And yet now I have said all this, I own the correspondence and friendship I observe he holds with your real mother, gives me some suspicion, and the presents he often makes her (which people seldom do for nothing) confirm it. But since this is all I can say to you on that point, pray let us come to the secret, which you have made me impatient to hear.

_Cam._ Know then, that tho' _Cupid_ is blind, he is not to be deceived: I can hide my sex from the world but not from him; his dart has found the way thro' the manly garb I wear to pierce a virgin's tender heart----I love----

_Isab._ How!

_Cam._ Nay be'nt surpriz'd at that, I have other wonders for you.

_Isab._ Quick, let me hear 'em.

_Cam._ I love _Lorenzo_.

_Isab._ _Lorenzo_! Most nicely hit. The very man from whom your imposture keeps this vast estate; and who on the first knowledge of your being a woman wou'd enter into possession of it. This is indeed a wonder.

_Cam._ Then wonder still, I am his wife.

_Isab._ Ha! his wife!

_Cam._ His wife, _Isabella_; and yet thou hast not all my wonders, I am his wife without his knowledge: he does not even know I am a woman.

_Isab._ Madam, your humble servant; if you please to go on, I won't interrupt you, indeed I won't.

_Cam._ Then hear how these strange things have past; _Lorenzo_, bound unregarded in my sister's chains, seem'd in my eyes a conquest worth her care. Nor cou'd I see him treated with contempt, without growing warm in his interest: I blam'd _Leonora_ for not being touch'd with his merit; I blam'd her so long, 'till I grew touch'd with it myself: and the reasons I urg'd to vanquish her heart, insensibly made a conquest of my own: 'Twas thus, my friend, I fell. What was next to be done my passion pointed out; my heart I felt was warm'd to a noble enterprize, I gave it way, and boldly on it led me. _Leonora_'s name and voice, in the dark shades of night, I borrow'd, to engage the object of my wishes. I met him, _Isabella_, and so deceived him; he cannot blame me sure, for much I blest him. But to finish this strange story: in short I own, I long had lov'd, but finding my father most averse to my desires, I at last had forc'd myself to this secret correspondence; I urg'd the mischiefs would attend the knowledge on't, I urg'd them so, he thought them full of weight, so yielded to observe what rules I gave him: they were, to pass the day in cold indifference, to avoid even signs or looks of intimacy, but gather for the still, the secret night, a flood of love to recompence the losses of the day. I will not trouble you with lovers cares, nor what contrivances we form'd to bring this toying to a solid bliss. Know only, when three nights we thus had pass'd, the fourth it was agreed should make us one for ever; each kept their promise, and last night has join'd us.

_Isab._ Indeed your talents pass my poor extent; you serious ladies are well form'd for business: What wretched work a poor coquet had made on't! But still there's that remains will try your skill; you have your man, but----

_Cam._ Lovers think no farther, the object of that passion possesses all desire; however I have open'd to you my wond'rous situation. If you can advise me in my difficulties to come, you will. But see----My husband!

_Enter ~Lorenzo~._

_Lor._ You look as if you were busy, pray tell me if I interrupt you, I'll retire.

_Cam._ No, no, you have a right to interrupt us, since you were the subject of our discourse.

_Lor._ Was I?

_Cam._ You were; nay, I'll tell you how you entertain'd us too.

_Lor._ Perhaps I had as good avoid hearing that.

_Cam._ You need not fear, it was not to your disadvantage; I was commending you and saying, if I had been a woman I had been in danger; nay I think I said I shou'd infallibly have been in love with you.

_Lor._ While such an If is in the way, you run no great risque in declaring; but you'd be finely catch'd now, shou'd some wonderful transformation give me a claim to your heart.

_Cam._ Not sorry for't at all, for I ne'er expect to find a mistress please me half so well as you would do if I were yours.

_Lor._ Since you are so well inclin'd to me in your wishes, Sir, I suppose (as the fates have ordain'd it) you wou'd have some pleasure in helping me to a mistress, since you can't be mine yourself.

_Cam._ Indeed I shou'd not.

_Lor._ Then my obligation is but small to you.

_Cam._ Why, wou'd you have a woman, that is in love with you herself, employ her interest to help you to another?

_Lor._ No, but you being no woman might.

_Cam._ Sir, 'tis as a woman I say what I do, and I suppose myself a woman when I design all these favours to you: therefore out of that supposition, I have no other good intentions to you than you may expect from one that says he's----Sir, your humble servant.

_Lor._ So unless Heaven is pleas'd to work a miracle, and from a sturdy young fellow, make you a kind-hearted young lady, I'm to get little by your good opinion of me.

_Cam._ Yes; there is one means yet left (on this side a miracle) that wou'd perhaps engage me, if with an honest oath you could declare, were I woman, I might dispute your heart even with the first of my pretending sex.

_Lor._ Then solemnly and honestly I swear, that had you been a woman, and I the master of the world, I think I should have laid it at your feet.

_Cam._ Then honestly and solemnly I swear, henceforwards all your interest shall be mine.

_Lor._ I have a secret to impart to you will quickly try your friendship.

_Cam._ I've a secret to unfold to you will put you even to a fiery trial.

_Lor._ What do you mean, _Camillo_?

_Cam._ I mean that I love, where I never durst yet own it, yet where 'tis in your power to make me the happiest of----

_Lor._ Explain, _Camillo_; and be assur'd if your happiness is in my power, 'tis in your own.

_Cam._ Alas! you promise me you know not what.

_Lor._ I promise nothing but what I will perform; name the person.

_Cam._ 'Tis one who is very near to you.

_Lor._ If 'tis my sister, why all this pain in bringing forth the secret?

_Cam._ Alas! it is your----

_Lor._ Speak!

_Cam._ I cannot yet; farewel.

_Lor._ Hold! Pray speak it now.

_Cam._ I must not: but when you tell me your secret, you shall know mine.

_Lor._ Mine is not in my power, without the consent of another.

_Cam._ Get that consent, and then we'll try who best will keep their oaths.

_Lor._ I am content.

_Cam._ And I. Adieu.

_Lor._ Farewel.

[_Exit ~Lorenzo~._

_Enter ~Leonora~ and ~Jacinta~._

_Leo._ 'Tis enough: I will revenge myself this way; if it does but torment him, I shall be content to find no other pleasure in it. Brother, you'll wonder at my change; after all my ill usage of _Lorenzo_, I am determined to be his wife.

_Cam._ How, sister! so sudden a turn? This inequality of temper indeed is not commendable.

_Leo._ Your change, brother, is much more justly surprizing; you hitherto have pleaded for him strongly, accus'd me of blindness, cruelty, and pride; and now I yield to your reasons, and resolve in his favour, you blame my compliance, and appear against his interest.

_Cam._ I quit his service for what's dearer to me, yours. I have learn'd from sure intelligence, the attack he made on you was but a feint, and that his heart is in another's chain; I would not therefore see you expos'd, to offer up yourself to one who must refuse you.

_Leo._ If that be all, leave me my honour to take care of; I am no stranger to his wishes, he won't refuse me, brother, nor I hope will you, to tell him of my resolution: if you do, this moment with my own tongue (thro' all the virgin's blushes) I'll own to him I am determin'd in his favour----You pause as if you'd let the task lie on me.

_Cam._ Neither on you, nor me; I have a reason you are yet a stranger to: know then there is a virgin young and tender, whose peace and happiness so much are mine, I cannot see her miserable; she loves him with that torrent of desire, that were the world resign'd her in his stead, she'd still be wretched: I will not pique you to a female strife, by saying you have not charms to tear him from her; but I would move you to a female softness, by telling you her death wou'd wait your conquest. What I have more to plead is as a brother, I hope that gives me some small interest in you; whate'er it is, you see how I'd employ it.

_Leo._ You ne'er cou'd put it to a harder service. I beg a little time to think: pray leave me to myself a while.

_Cam._ I shall; I only ask that you wou'd think, and then you won't refuse me.

[_Exit ~Cam~._

_Jacin._ Indeed, Madam, I'm of your brother's mind, tho' for another cause; but sure 'tis worth thinking twice on for your own sake: you are too violent.

_Leo._ A slighted woman knows no bounds. Vengeance is all the cordial she can have, so snatches at the nearest. Ungrateful wretch! to use me with such insolence.

_Jacin._ You see me as much enrag'd at it, as you are yourself, yet my brain is roving after the cause, for something there must be: never letter was receiv'd by man with more passion and transport; I was almost as charming a goddess as yourself, only for bringing it. Yet when in a moment after I come with a message worth a dozen on't, never was witch so handled; something must have pass'd between one and t'other, that's sure.

_Leo._ Nothing cou'd pass worth my enquiring after, since nothing cou'd happen that can excuse his usage of me; he had a letter under my hand which own'd him master of my heart; and till I contradicted it with my mouth, he ought not to doubt the truth on't.

_Jacin._ Nay I confess, madam, I han't a word to say for him, I'm afraid he's a rogue at bottom, as well as my shameless that attends him; we are bit, by my troth, and haply well enough serv'd, for list'ning to the glib tongues of the rascals: but be comforted, Madam; they'll fall into the hands of some foul sluts or other, before they die, that will set our account even with e'm.

_Leo._ Well: let him laugh; let him glory in what he has done: he shall see I have a spirit can use him as I ought.

_Jacin._ And let one thing be your comfort by the way, Madam, that in spite of all your dear affections to him, you have had the grace to keep him at arms length. You han't thank'd me for't; but good faith 'twas well I did not stir out of the chamber that fond night. For there are times the stoutest of us are in danger, the rascals wheedle so.

_Leo._ In short, my very soul is fir'd with his treatment: and if ever that perfidious monster should relent, though he should crawl like a poor worm beneath my feet, nay plunge a dagger in his heart, to bleed for pardon; I charge thee strictly, charge thee on thy life, thou do not urge a look to melt me toward him, but strongly buoy me up in brave resentment; and if thou see'st (which heav'ns avert) a glance of weakness in me, rouse to my memory the vile wrongs I've borne, and blazon them with skill in all their glaring colours.