Part 9

_Lop._ And so she will her religion, if you attack it with that dreadful face. D'ye hear, Sir? the poor lady is in love heartily, and I wish all poor ladies that are so, would dispose of themselves so well as she has done; but you scare her out of her senses: bring her here into the room, speak gently to her, tell her you know the thing is done, that you have it from a man of honour, Me. That may be you wish it had been otherwise, but are a Christian, and profess mercy, and therefore have resolved to pardon her: say this, and I shall appear a man of reputation, and have satisfaction made me.

_Alv._ Or an impudent rogue, and have all your bones broke.

_Lop._ Content.

_Alv._ Agreed, _Leonora_! who's there? call _Leonora_.

_Lop._ All will go rarely, Sir; we shall have shot the gulf in a moment.

[_Aside to ~Lorenzo~._

_Enter ~Leonora~._

_Alv._ Come hither, _Leonora_.

_Lop._ So, now we shall see.

_Alv._ I call'd you to answer for yourself; here's a strong claim upon you; if there be any thing in the pretended title, conceal it no farther, it must be known at last, it may as well be so now. Nothing is so uneasy as uncertainty, I would therefore be gladly freed from it: if you have done what I am told you have, 'tis a great fault indeed; but as I fear 'twill carry much of its punishment along with it, I shall rather reduce my resentment into mourning your misfortune, than suffer it to add to your affliction; therefore speak the truth.

_Lop._ Well, this is fair play; now I speak, Sir: you see, fair lady, the goodness of a tender father, nothing need therefore hinder you from owning a most loving husband. We had like to have been altogether by the ears about this business, and pails of blood were ready to run about the house: but, thank heaven, the sun shines out again, and one word from your sweet mouth makes fair weather for ever. My master has been forc'd to own your marriage, he begs you'll do so too.

_Leo._ What does this impudent rascal mean?

_Lop._ Ha!----Madam!

_Leo._ Sir, I should be very glad to know [_To ~Lorenzo~._] what can have been the occasion of this wild report; sure you cannot be yourself a party in it.

_Lop._ He, he----

_Lor._ Forgive me, dear _Leonora_, I know you had strong reasons for the secret being longer kept; but 'tis not my fault our marriage is disclos'd.

_Leo._ Our marriage, Sir!----

_Lor._ 'Tis known, my dear, tho' much against my will; but since it is so, 'twou'd be in vain for us to deny it longer.

_Leo._ Then, Sir, I am your wife? I fell in love with you, and married you without my father's knowledge?

_Lor._ I dare not be so vain to think 'twas love; I humbly am content to owe the blessing to your generosity; you saw the pains I suffer'd for your sake, and in compassion eas'd 'em.

_Leo._ I did, Sir! Sure this exceeds all human impudence.

_Lop._ Truly, I think it does. She'd make an incomparable actress.

[_Aside._

_Lor._ I begin to be surpris'd, Madam, at you carrying this thing so far; you see there's no occasion for it; and for the discovery, I have already told you, 'twas not my fault.

_Lop._ My master's! no, 'twas I did it: why, what a bustle's here! I knew things would go well, and so they do, if folks would let 'em. But if ladies will be in their merriments, when gentlemen are upon serious business, why what a deuce can one say to 'em?

_Leo._ I see this fellow is to be an evidence in your plot; where you hope to drive, it is hard to guess; for if any thing can exceed its impudence, it is its folly. A noble stratagem indeed to win a lady by! I could be diverted with it, but that I see a face of villainy requires a rougher treatment; I could almost, methinks, forget my sex, and be my own avenger.

_Lor._ Madam, I am surpris'd beyond all----

_Lop._ Pray, Sir, let me come to her; you are so surpris'd, you'll make nothing on't: she wants a little snubbing. Look you, madam, I have seen many a pleasant humour amongst ladies, but you out-cut them all. Here's contradiction, with a vengeance: you han't been married eight-and-forty hours, and you are slap----at your husband's beard already: why, do you consider who he is?----Who this gentleman is? And what he can do----by law? Why, he can lock you up----knock you down----tie you neck and heels----

_Lor._ Forbear, you insolent villain, you.

[_Offering to strike him._

_Leo._ That----for what's past, however.

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

_Lop._ I think----she gave me a box o' the ear; ha!

[_Exit ~Leonora~._

Sir, will you suffer your old servants to be us'd thus by new comers? It's a shame, a mere shame: Sir, will you take a poor dog's advice for once? She denies she's married to you: take her at her word; you have seen some of her humours,----let her go.

_Alv._ Well, gentlemen, thus far you see I have heard all with patience; have you content? Or how much farther do you design to go with this business?

_Lop._ Why truly, Sir, I think we are near at a stand.

_Alv._ 'Tis time, you villain you.

_Lop._ Why, and I am a villain now, if every word I've spoke be not as true as----as the _Gazette_: and your daughter's no better than a----a----a whimsical young woman, for making disputes among gentlemen. And if every body had their deserts, she'd have a good----I won't speak out to inflame reckonings; but let her go, master.

_Alv._ Sir, I don't think it well to spend any more words with your impudent and villainous servant here.

_Lop._ Thank you, Sir: but I'd let her go.

_Alv._ Nor have I more to say to you than this, that you must not think so daring an affront to my family can go long unresented. Farewel.

[_Exit ~Alv~._

_Lor._ Well, Sir, what have you to say for yourself now?

_Lop._ Why, Sir, I have only to say, that I am a very unfortunate----middle-ag'd man; and that I believe all the stars upon heaven and earth have been concern'd in my destiny. Children now unborn will hereafter sing my downfal in mournful lines, and notes of doleful tune: I am at present troubled in mind, despair around me, signify'd in appearing gibbets, with a great bundle of dog-whips by way of preparation.

I therefore will go seek some mountain high, If high enough some mountain may be found, } With distant valley dreadfully profound, } And from the horrid cliff--look calmly all around. }

Farewel.

[_Aside._

_Lor._ No, sirrah, I'll see your wretched end myself. Die here, villain.

[_Drawing his sword._

_Lop._ I can't, Sir, if any body looks upon me.

_Lor._ Away, you trifling wretch; but think not to escape, for thou shalt have thy recompence.

[_Exit ~Lorenzo~._

_~Lopez~ solus._

Why, what a mischievous jade is this, to make such an uproar in a family the first day of her marriage! Why my master won't so much as get a honey-moon out of her; I'gad let her go. If she be thus in her soft and tender youth, she'll be rare company at threescore: well, he may do as he pleases, but were she my dear, I'd let her go----Such a foot at her tail, I'd make the truth bounce out at her mouth, like a pellet out of a pot-gun.

[_Exit._

+ACT+ IV. +SCENE+ I.

_Enter ~Camillo~ and ~Isabella~._

_Isab._ 'Tis an unlucky accident indeed.

_Cam._ Ah _Isabella_! Fate has now determin'd my undoing. This thing can ne'er end here, _Leonora_ and _Lorenzo_ must soon come to some explanation; the dispute is too monstrous to pass over, without further enquiry, which must discover all, and what will be the consequence, I tremble at: for whether Don _Alvarez_ knows of the imposture, or whether he is deceiv'd, with the rest of the world, when once it breaks out, and the consequence is the loss of that great wealth he now enjoys by it, what must become of me? All paternal affections then must cease, and regarding me as an unhappy instrument in the trouble which will then o'erload him, he will return me to my humble birth, and then I'm lost for ever. For what, alas! will the deceiv'd _Lorenzo_ say? A wife with neither fortune, birth, nor beauty, instead of one most plenteously endow'd with all. O heavens! what a sea of misery I have before me!

_Isab._ Indeed you reason right, but these reflections are ill-tim'd; why did you not employ them sooner?

_Cam._ Because I lov'd.

_Isab._ And don't you do so now?

_Cam._ I do, and therefore 'tis I make these cruel just reflections.

_Isab._ So that love, I find, can do any thing.

_Cam._ Indeed it can: its powers are wondrous great, its pains no tongue can tell, its bliss no heart conceive, crowns cannot recompense its torments, heaven scarce supplies its joys. My stake is of this value: oh counsel me how I shall save it.

_Isab._ Alas! that counsel's much beyond my wisdom's force, I see no way to help you.

_Cam._ And yet 'tis sure there's one.

_Isab._ What?

_Cam._ Death.

_Isab._ There possibly may be another; I have thought this moment----perhaps there's nothing in it; yet a small passage comes to my remembrance, that I regarded little when it happen'd----I'll go and search for one may be of service. But hold; I see Don _Carlos_: he'll but disturb us now, let us avoid him.

[_Exeunt ~Camillo~ and ~Isabella~._

_Enter Don ~Carlos~ and ~Sancho~._

_Car._ Repuls'd again! this is not to be borne. What tho' this villain's story be a falshood, was I to blame to hearken to it? This usage cannot be supported: how was it she treated thee?

_San._ Never was ambassador worse receiv'd. Madam, my master asks ten thousand pardons, and humbly begs one moment's interview:----Begone, you rascal you. Madam, what answer shall I give my Master?----Tell him he's a villain. Indeed, fair lady, I think this is hasty treatment--Here, my footmen, toss me this fellow out at the window; and away she went to her devotions.

_Car._ Did you see _Jacinta_?

_San._ Yes; she saluted me with half a score rogues and rascals too. I think our destinies are much alike, Sir; and o'my conscience, a couple of scurvy jades we are hamper'd with.

_Car._ Ungrateful woman, to receive with such contempt so quick a return of a heart so justly alarm'd.

_San._ Ha, ha, ha.

_Car._ What, no allowance to be made to the first transports of a lover's fury, when rous'd by so dreadful an appearance? as just as my suspicions were, have I long suffer'd them to arraign her?

_San._ No.

_Car._ Have I waited for oaths or imprecations to clear her?

_San._ No.

_Car._ Nay, even now is not the whole world still in suspense about her? whilst I alone conclude her innocent.

_San._ 'Tis very true.

_Car._ She might, methinks, thro' this profound respect, observe a flame another would have cherish'd: she might support me against groundless fears, and save me from a rival's tyranny; she might release me from these cruel racks, and would, no doubt, if she cou'd love as I do.

_San._ Ha, ha, ha.

_Car._ But since she don't, what do I whining here? Curse on the base humilities of love.

_San._ Right.

_Car._ Let children kiss the rod that fleas them, let dogs lie down and lick the shoe that spurns them.

_San._ Ay.

_Car._ I am a man by nature meant for power; the scepter's given us to wield, and we betray our trust whenever we meanly lay it at a woman's feet.

_San._ True, we are men, boo----Come, Master, let us both be in a passion; here's my scepter, [_Shewing a cudgel._] Subject _Jacinta_, look about you. Sir, was you ever in _Muscovy_? the women there love the men dearly; why? because----[_Shaking his stick._] there's your love-powder for you. Ah, Sir, were we but wise and stout, what work should we make with them! But this humble love-making, spoils them all. A rare way indeed to bring matters about with them; we are persuading them all day they are angels and Goddesses, in order to use them at night like human creatures; we are like to succeed truly.

_Car._ For my part I never yet could bear a slight from any thing, nor will I now. There's but one way however to resent it from a woman: and that's to drive her bravely from your heart, and place a worthier in her vacant throne.

_San._ Now, with submission to my betters, I have another way, Sir, I'll drive my tyrant from my heart, and place myself in her throne. Yes; I will be lord of my own tenement, and keep my household in order. Wou'd you wou'd do so too, Master; for look you, I have been servitor in a college at _Salamanca_, and read philosophy with the doctors; where I found that a woman, in all times, has been observed to be an animal hard to understand, and much inclined to mischief. Now as an animal is always an animal, and a captain always a captain, so a woman is always a woman: whence it is, that a certain _Greek_ says, her head is like a bank of sand; or, as another, a solid rock; or, according to a third, a dark lanthorn. Pray, Sir, observe, for this is close reasoning; and so as the head is the head of the body; and that the body without a head, is like a head without a tail; and that where there is neither head nor tail, 'tis a very strange body: so I say a woman is by comparison, do you see, (for nothing explains things like comparisons) I say by comparison, as _Aristotle_ has often said before me, one may compare her to the raging sea; for as the sea, when the wind rises, knits its brows like an angry bull, and that waves mount upon rocks, and rocks mount upon waves: that porpusses leap like trouts, and whales skip about like gudgeons; that ships roll like beer-barrels, and mariners pray like saints; just so, I say a woman----A woman, I say, just so, when her reason is ship-wreck'd upon her passion, and the hulk of her understanding lies thumping against the rock of her fury; then it is, I say, that by certain immotions, which----um cause, as one may suppose, a sort of convulsive----yes----hurricanious----um----like----in short, a woman is like the Devil.

_Car._ Admirably reason'd indeed, _Sancho_.

_San._ Pretty well, I thank Heaven; but here come the crocodiles to weep us into mercy.

_Enter ~Leonora~ and ~Jacinta~._

Master, let us shew ourselves men, and leave their briny tears to wash their dirty faces.

_Car._ It is not in the power of charms to move me.

_San._ Nor me, I hope; and yet I fear those eyes will look out sharp to snatch up such a prize.

[_Pointing to ~Jacinta~._

_Jacin._ He's coming to us, Madam, to beg pardon; but sure you'll never grant it him?

_Leo._ If I do may heaven never grant me mine.

_Jacin._ That's brave.

_Car._ You look, Madam, upon me, as if you thought I came to trouble you with my usual importunities; I'll ease you of that pain, by telling you my business now is calmly to assure you, but I assure it you with Heaven and hell for seconds; for may the joys of one fly from me, whilst the pains of t'other overtake me, if all your charms display'd e'er shake my resolution; I'll never see you more.

_San._ Bon.

_Leo._ You are a man of that nice honour, Sir, I know you'll keep your word: I expected this assurance from you, and came this way only to thank you for't.

_Jacin._ Very well.

_Car._ You did, imperious dame, you did: how base is woman's pride! How wretched are the ingredients it is form'd of! If you saw cause for just disdain, why did you not at first repulse me? Why lead a slave in chains, that could not grace your triumphs? If I am thus to be contemn'd, think on the favours you have done the wretch, and hide your face for ever.

_San._ Well argued.

_Leo._ I own you have hit the only fault the world can charge me with: the favours I have done to you, I am indeed asham'd of; but since women have their frailties, you'll allow me mine.

_Car._ 'Tis well, extremely well, Madam. I'm happy however, you at last speak frankly. I thank you for it: from my soul I thank you: but don't expect me groveling at your feet again; don't, for if I do----

_Leo._ You will be treated as you deserve; trod upon.

_Car._ Give me patience;----but I don't want it; I am calm: Madam, farewel;----be happy if you can; by heavens I wish you so, but never spread your net for me again; for if you do----

_Leo._ You'll be running into it.

_Car._ Rather run headlong into fire and flames; rather be torn with pincers bit from bit; rather be broil'd like martyrs upon gridirons----But I am wrong; this sounds like passion, and heaven can tell I am not angry: Madam, I think we have no farther business together; your most humble servant.

_Leo._ Farewel t'ye, Sir.

_Car._ Come along.

[_To ~Sancho~._

[_Goes to the scene and returns._

Yet once more before I go (lest you should doubt my resolution) may I starve, perish, rot, be blasted, dead, damn'd, or any other thing that men or gods can think of, if on any occasion whatever, civil or military, pleasure or business, love or hate, or any other accident of life, I, from this moment, change one word or look with you.

[_Going off, ~Sancho~ claps him on the back._

_Leo._ Content: come away, _Jacinta_.

_~Carlos~ returns._

_Car._ Yet one word, Madam, if you please; I have a little thing here belongs to you, a foolish bawble I once was fond of. [_Twitching her picture from his breast._] Will you accept a trifle from your servant?

_Leo._ Willingly, Sir; I have a bawble too I think you have some claim to; you'll wear it for my sake.

[_Breaks a bracelet from her arm, and gives it him._

_Car._ Most thankfully; this too I shou'd restore you, it once was yours----[_Giving her a table-book._] By your favour madam----there is a line or two in it, I think you did me once the honour to write with your own fair hand. Here it is.

[_Reads._

_You love me, ~Carlos~, and would know The secret movements of my heart: Whether I give you mine or no, With yours, methinks, I'd never, never part._

Thus you have encouraged me, and thus you have deceived me.

_San._ Very true.

_Leo._ I have some faithful lines too; I think I can produce 'em,

[_Pulls out a table-book; reads, and then gives it him._

_How long soe'er, to sigh in vain, My destiny may prove, My fate (in spite of your disdain) Will let me glory in your chain, And give me leave eternally to love._

There, Sir, take your poetry again.

[_Throwing it at his feet._

'Tis not much the worse for my wearing: 'twill serve again upon a fresh occasion.

_Jacin._ Well done.

_Car._ I believe I can return the present, Madam, with----a pocket full of your prose----There----

[_Throwing a handful of letters at her feet._

_Leo._ _Jacinta_, give me his letters. There, Sir, not to be behind-hand with you.

[_Takes a handful of his letters out of a box, and throws them in his face._

_Jacin._ And there, and there, and there, Sir.

[_~Jacinta~ throws the rest at him._

_San._ 'Cods my life, we want ammunition: but for a shift----There, and there, you saucy slut you.

[_~Sancho~ pulls a pack of dirty cards out of his pocket, and throws 'em at her; then they close; he pulls off her headclothes, and she his wig, and then part, she running to her mistress, he to his master._

_Jacin._ I think, Madam, we have clearly the better on't.

_Leo._ For a proof, I resolve to keep the field.

_Jacin._ Have a care he don't rally and beat you yet though: pray walk off.

_Leo._ Fear nothing.

_San._ How the armies stand and gaze at one another after the battle! What think you, Sir, of shewing yourself a great general, by making an honourable retreat?

_Car._ I scorn it: Oh _Leonora_! _Leonora_! A heart like mine should not be treated thus.

_Leo._ _Carlos_! _Carlos_! I have not deserv'd this usage.

_Car._ Barbarous _Leonora_! but 'tis useless to reproach you; she that is capable of what you have done, is form'd too cruel ever to repent of it. Go on then, tyrant; make your bliss compleat; torment me still, for still, alas! I love enough to be tormented.

_Leo._ Ah _Carlos_! little do you know the tender movements of that thing you name: the heart where love presides, admits no thoughts against the honour of its ruler.

_Car._ 'Tis not to call that honour into doubt, if conscious of our own unworthiness, we interpret every frown to our destruction.

_Leo._ When jealousy proceeds from such humble apprehensions, it shews itself with more respect than yours has done.

_Car._ And where a heart is guiltless, it easily forgives a greater crime.

_Leo._ Forgiveness is not now in our debate; if both have been in fault, 'tis fit that both should suffer for it; our separation will do justice on us.

_Car._ But since we are ourselves the judges of our crimes, what if we should inflict a gentler punishment?

_Leo._ 'Twould but encourage us to sin again.

_Car._ And if it shou'd?

_Leo._ 'Twould give a fresh occasion for the pleasing exercise of mercy.

_Car._ Right: and so we act the part of earth and heaven together, of men and gods, and taste of both their pleasures.

_Leo._ The banquet's too inviting to refuse it.

_Car._ Then thus let's fall on, and feed upon't for ever.

[_Carries her off, embracing her, and kissing her hand._

_Leo._ Ah woman! foolish, foolish woman!

_San._ Very foolish indeed.

_Jacin._ But don't expect I'll follow her example.

_San._ You wou'd, Mopsy, if I'd let you.

_Jacin._ I'd sooner tear my eyes out! ah----that she had a little of my spirit in her.

_San._ I believe I shall find thou hast a great deal of her flesh, my charmer; but 'twon't do; I am all rock, hard rock, very marble.

_Jacin._ A very pumice stone, you rascal you, if one would try thee; but to prevent thy humilities, and shew thee all submission would be vain; to convince thee thou hast nothing but misery and despair before thee; here----take back thy paltry thimble, and be in my debt for the shirts I have made thee with it.

_San._ Nay, if y'are at that sport, Mistress, I believe I shall lose nothing by the balance of thy presents. There, take thy tobacco-stopper, and stop thy----

_Jacin._ Here, take thy sattin pincushion, with thy curious half hundred of pins in't, thou mad'st such a vapouring about yesterday: tell them carefully, there's not one wanting.

_San._ There's thy ivory-hafted knife again, whet it well; 'tis so blunt 'twill cut nothing but love.

_Jacin._ And there's thy pretty pocket scissars thou hast honour'd me with, they'll cut off a leg or an arm; heaven bless them.

_San._ Here's the inchanted handkerchief you were pleased to indear with your precious blood, when the violence of your love at dinner, t'other day, made you cut your fingers----There.

[_Blows his nose in it, and gives it her._

_Jacin._ The rascal so provokes me, I won't even keep his paltry garters from him. D'ye see these? You pitiful beggarly scoundrel you:----There, take 'em, there.

[_She takes her garters off, and flaps them about his face._

_San._ I have but one thing more of thine. [_Shewing his cudgel._] I own 'tis the top of all thy presents, and might be useful to me; but that thou may'st have nothing to upbraid me with, even take it again with the rest of them.

[_Lifting it up to strike her, she leaps about his neck._

_Jacin._ Ah cruel _Sancho_!--Now beat me, _Sancho_, do.

_San._ Rather, like _Indian_ beggars, beat my precious self.

[_Throws away his stick, and embraces her._

Rather let infants blood about the streets, Rather let all the wine about the cellar, Rather let----Oh _Jacinta_----thou hast o'ercome. How foolish are the great resolves of man! Resolves, which we neither wou'd keep, nor can. When those bright eyes in kindness please to shine, Their goodness I must needs return with mine: Bless my _Jacinta_ in her _Sancho_'s arms----

_Jacin._ And I my _Sancho_ with _Jacinta_'s charms.

[_Exeunt._

+ACT+ V. +SCENE+ I.

+SCENE+, _the Street_.

_Enter ~Lopez~._