Chapter 20

_Enter_ Carlos, Antonio.

_Car_. I wonder where this Man of mine should be, whom I sent this Evening with my Letter to _Julia_. What art thou?

_Enter_ Guzman, _runs against_ Carlos.

_Guz_. My Lord, ‘tis I, your trusty Trojan, _Guzman_.--what makes you here, Sir, so near the Door of your Mistress?

_Car_. To wait my Doom; what Tidings hast thou, _Guzman_?

_Guz_. Why, Sir, I went as you directed me, to Don _Baltazer’s_.

_Car_. And didst thou deliver it?

_Guz_. And the first thing I met with was old _Francisco_.

_Car_. So.

_Guz_. To whom I civilly addrest my self--told him, you presented your Service to him,--sent to know how his Lady and he did. Which word Lady I no sooner named, but I thought he would have saluted me with a Cudgel,--in fine, observing her behind him, whom he shelter’d all he could with his Cloke, I taking an occasion to whisper him, gave it her over his shoulder, whilst she return’d some Smiles and Looks of Joy,--but for an answer, ‘twas impossible to get the least sign of one.

_Car_. No matter, that joy was evident she wisht me one, and by the first opportunity my diligent waiting will be recompensed; but where hast thou been all this while?

_Guz_. Finding out the Chimney-sweeper you spoke of, Sir, and whom you ordered me to bring this Evening.

_Car_. And hast thou found him?

_Guz_. He’s here, at the corner of the Street, I’ll call him. [Ex. Guz.

_Car_. I have, _Antonio_, besides your particular Revenge, one of my own to act by this deceit, since all my Industry to see the charming _Julia_ has hitherto been vain, I have resolv’d upon a new project, if this False Count pass upon ‘em, as I doubt not but he will, and that he gets admittance into the House, I’ll pass for one of his Domesticks.

_Enter_ Guzman _and_ Guiliom. Page _holding his lanthorn to his face_.

_Guz_. Here’s the Fellow, Sir.

_Ant_. Fellow! he may be the Devil’s Fellow by his countenance.

_Car_. Come nearer, Friend; dost think thou canst manage a Plot well?

_Guil_. As any Man in _Cadiz_, Sir, with good instructions.

_Car_. That thou shalt have, thou art apprehensive.

_Guil_. So, so, I have a pretty memory for mischief.

_Ant_. Hast thou Assurance and Courage?

_Guil_. To kill the honestest Man in _Spain_, if I be well paid.

_Car_. That thou shalt be.

_Guil_. I’ll do’t, say no more, I’ll do’t.

_Car_. But canst thou swear stoutly, and lye handsomely.

_Guil_. Prettily, by Nature, Sir, but with good instructions I shall improve; I thank Heaven I have Docity, or so.

_Car_. Thou want’st not Confidence.

_Guil_. No, nor Impudence neither; how should a man live in this wicked world without that Talent?

_Ant_. Then know our Design is only comical, though if you manage not Matters well, it may prove tragical to you; in fine, dost think thou canst personate a Lord?

_Guil_. A Lord! marry, that’s a hard question: but what sort of a Lord?

_Car_. Why, any Lord.

_Guil_. That I cannot do, but I can do some sort of a Lord, as some Lords are wiser than other-some; there is your witty Lord,--him I defie; your wise Lord, that is to say, your knavish Lord, him I renounce; then there’s your Politick Lord, him I wou’d have hang’d; then there’s your Foolish Lord, let him follow the Politician; then there’s your brisk, pert, noisy Lord, and such a small insignificant Fiend I care not if I am possest with; I shall deal well enough with a Devil of his capacity.

_Car_. Very well, then there needs no more but that you go along with my man to my house, my Authority shall secure you from all the injuries that shall accrue from a discovery, but I hope none will happen: Equipage, Clothes and Money we’ll furnish you with.--Go home with him, and dress, and practise the Don till we come, who will give you ample instructions what to do.

_Guil_. And if I do not fit you with a Don better than _Don Del Phobos_, or _Don Quixote_, let me be hang’d up for the Sign of the Black Boy on my own Poles at a _Spanish_ Inn door.

_Ant_. We’ll be with you presently.

_Guil_. And if you find me not en Cavalier, say Clothes, Garniture, Points, and Feathers have lost their Power of making one.

[_Ex_. Guz. _and_ Page, _and_ Guil.

_Enter, opening the door_, Jacinta.

_Car_. Hah, the Door opens, and surely ‘tis a Woman that advances: dear _Antonio_, wait a little farther;--who’s there?

_Jac_. Hah, if it should be old _Francisco_ now.

_Car_. Let it be who it will, I’ll tell my name, it cannot injure either;--I’m _Carlos_, who are you?

_Jac_. A thing that looks for him you name--_Jacinta_;--are you alone?

_Car_. Never since _Julia_ did possess my heart; what news, my dearest Messenger of Love? what may I hope?--

_Enter_ Julia.

_Jul_. All that the kindest Mistress can bestow, If _Carlos_ loves, and still will keep his Vows.

_Car_. _Julia_, my Life, my Soul, what happy Stars Conspir’d to give me this dear lucky minute?

_Jul_. Those that conducted old _Francisco_ out, And will too soon return him back again; I dare not stay to hear thy love or chiding, Both which have power to charm, since both proceed From a kind heart, that’s mine.

_Car_. Oh, take not this dear Body from my Arms, For if you do, my Soul will follow it.

_Jul_. What would’st thou have me do?

_Car_. Be wondrous kind, be lavish of thy Heart, Be generous in thy Love, and give me all.

_Jul_. Oh Heavens! what mean you? I shall die with fear.

_Car_. Fear! let coward Lovers fear, who love by halves, We that intirely love are bold in Passion, Like Soldiers fir’d with glory dread no Danger.

_Jul_. But should we be unthrifty in our Loves, And for one Moment’s joy give all away, And be hereafter damn’d to pine at distance?

_Car_. Mistaken Miser, Love like Money put Into good hands increases every day, Still as you trust me, still the Sum amounts: Put me not off with promise of to morrow, To morrow will take care for new delights, Why shou’d that rob us of a present one?

_Jul_. Ah, _Carlos_! How fondly do I listen to thy words, And fain would chide, and fain wou’d boast my Virtue, But mightier Love laughs at those poor delays; And I should doubtless give you all your _Julia_, Did not my fear prevent my kinder business; --And should _Francisco_ come and find me absent, Or take thee with me, we were lost, my _Carlos_.

_Car_. When then, my _Julia_, shall we meet again?

_Jul_. You _Spaniards_ are a jealous Nation, But in this _English Spaniard_ Old _Francisco_, That mad Passion’s doubled; wholly deprives him of his Sense, and turns his Nature Brute; wou’d he but trust me only with my Woman, I wou’d contrive some way to see my _Carlos_.

_Car_. ‘Tis certain, _Julia_, that thou must be mine.

_Jul_. Or I must die, my _Carlos_.

[Ant. _listning advances_.

_Ant_.--I’m sure ‘tis _Carlos’s_ voice, and with a Woman; And though he be my Rival but in Jest, I have a natural curiosity to see who ‘tis he entertains.

_Jul_. Oh Heavens! Sir, here’s _Francisco_; step aside, Lest mischief shou’d befall you. [_Runs in_.

_Car_. Now Love and wild Desire prompt me to kill this happy Rival,-- he’s old, and can’t be long in his Arrears to Nature.--What if I paid the debt? [_Draws halfway_. One single push wou’d do’t, and _Julia’s_ mine;--but, hang’t, Adultery is a less sin than Murder, and I will wait my Fortune.--

_Ant_. Where are you,--Don _Carlos_?

_Car_. Who’s there, _Antonio_? I took thee for my Rival, and ten to one but I had done thy business.

_Ant_. I heard ye talking and believ’d you safe, and came in hopes to get a little time to speak to _Clara_ in;--hah!--_Jacinta_--

_Jac_. Who’s there, _Antonio_? [_Peeping out of the door_.

_Ant_. The same; may I not speak with _Clara_?

_Jac_. Come in, she’s here.--

_Car_. And prithee, dear _Jacinta_, let me have one word with _Julia_ more, she need not fear surprize; just at the door let me but kiss her hand. [_Going in_.

_Jac_. I’ll see if I can bring her.--

_Enter_ Francisco.

_Fran_. A proud ungracious Flirt,--a Lord with a Pox! here’s a fine business, i’faith, that she should be her own Carver,--well I’ll home, and thunder her together with a vengeance.

_Car_. Who’s here? sure this is he indeed; I’ll step aside, lest my being seen give him an occasion of jealousy, and make him affront his Wife. [_Goes aside as_ Fran. _was going in_.

_Enter_ Julia.

_Fran_. Hum, what have we here, a Woman?

_Jul_. Heavens! what, not gone yet, my Dear?

_Fran_. So, so, ‘tis my confounded Wife, who expecting some body wou’d have me gone now.

_Jul_. Are you not satisfied with all I’ve said, With all the Vows I’ve made, Which here anew, in sight of Heaven, I breathe?

_Fran_. Yes, yes, you can promise fair, but hang him that trusts ye.

_Jul_. Go, go, and pray be satisfyed with my eternal Love.--

_Fran_. How fain she’d have me gone now; ah, subtle Serpent! is not this plain demonstration,--I shall murder her, I find the Devil great with me. [_Aside still_.

_Jul_.--What is’t thou pausest on?

_Fran_. The wicked Dissimulation of villainous Woman. [_Aloud to her_.

_Jul_. _Francisco!_

_Fran_. Oh thou Monster of Ingratitude, have I caught thee? You’d have me gone, wou’d ye? ay, to Heaven, I believe, like a wicked Woman as you are, so you were rid of me. Go,--and be satisfyed of my eternal love --ah, Gipsey,--no, Gentlewoman, I am a tuff bit, and will hold you tugging till your heart ake.

_Jul_. Why, was there such hurt in desiring you to go that you might make haste back again,--Oh, my fears!

_Fran_. That you might receive a Lover,--’tis plain--and my Indignation’s high.

_Jul_. Heav’n knows I meant--

_Fran_. Only to cuckold me a little,--get you in,--where I will swear thee by Bell, Book and Candle,--get you in, I say,--go, go,--I’ll watch for your Lover, and tell him how unkind he was to stay so long, I will.--

[_Ex_. Julia, _he stands just in the door_, Carlos _advances_.

_Car_. I hear no noise, sure ‘twas he,--and he’s gone in-- To reap those Joys he knows not how to value, And I must languish for; I’ll stay a little--perhaps _Jacinta_ may return again, for anything belonging to my _Julia_ is dear, even to my Soul.

[_Goes just to the door_, Fran. _bolts out on him_.

_Fran_. Who’s there?--what wou’d you have?--who wou’d you speak to?--who do you come from?--and what’s your business?

_Car_. Hah, ‘tis the Sot himself;--my name is _Carlos_.

_Fran_. _Carlos_! what Father of _Belzebub_ sent him hither?--a plain case;--I’ll murder her out of hand.

_Car_.--And I wou’d speak to any body, Friend, that belongs to the fair _Clara_,--if you are any of this house.

_Fran_. Only the Cuckold of the house, that’s all;--my name, Sir, is _Francisco_; but you, perhaps, are better acquainted with my Wife.

_Car_. _Francisco_, let me embrace you, my noble Brother, and chide you, that you wou’d not visit me. [_Going to embrace him, he flies off_.

_Fran_. And bring my Wife along with me.

_Car_. Both had been welcome--and all I have, you shou’d command.

_Fran_. For my Wife’s sake--what if I shou’d pistol him now;--and I am damnably provok’d to’t, had I but Courage to shoot off one. [_Aside_.

_Car_. Methinks you make not so kind returns as my Friendship to you, and the Alliance shall be between us, deserves.

_Fran_. I am something ill-bred, I confess, Sir;--’tis dark, and if I shou’d do’t no body wou’d know ‘twas I. [_Aside_.

_Car_. I fear there’s some Misunderstanding between us, pray let us go in a while, I’ll talk you from your error. [_Offers to go, he gets between him and the door_.

_Fran_. Between us, Sir! oh Lord, not in the least, Sir, I love and honour you so heartily--I’d be content to give you to the Devil, but the noise of the Pistol wou’d discover the business. [_Aside_.

_Car_. Come, let’s in, and talk a while.

_Fran_. I’m sorry I cannot do’t, Sir, we are something incommoded being not at our own house.

_Car_. Brother, I am afraid you are a little inclined to be jealous, that will destroy all Friendship.--

_Fran_. So, how finely the Devil begins to insinuate!

_Car_. That makes a Hell of the Heav’n of Love, and those very Pains you fear, are less tormenting than that Fear; what say you, Brother, is’t not so with you?

_Fran_. I find you wou’d have me turn a Husband of the Mode, a fine convenient Tool, one of the modern Humour, a civil Person, that understands Reason, or so; and I doubt not but you wou’d be as modish a Gallant.

_Car_. Ha, ha, ha.

_Fran_. What, do you laugh, Sir?

_Car_. Who can chuse, to hear your Suspicions, your needless Fears. Come, come, trust your Wife’s Discretion, and Modesty--and I doubt not but you will find your self--

_Fran_. In the Road to Heaven, whither they say all Cuckolds go--I thank you for your advice; I perceive you wou’d willingly help me onwards of my Journey.

_Car_. I’m glad I know you, Sir,--farewel to you-- [_Goes out_.

_Fran_. No matter for that, so you know not my Wife--and so farewel to you, Sir, and, the Devil take all Cuckoldmakers.

[_Exit_.