Chapter 22

_Enter Don_ Carlos _in his Night-gown_, Antonio, _and_ Guzman _with Clothes_.

_Car_. All night with _Clara_ say’st thou? that was lucky; But was she kind, my friend?

_Ant_. As I desir’d, or Honour wou’d permit her; Nor wou’d I press her farther.

_Car_. A very moderate Lover.

_Ant_. For some part of my Virtue, Sir, I owe to you; in midst of all my Love, even in the kindest moments of Delight, my Joys were broken by concern for you.--_Julia_ this day, or very suddenly, leaves _Cadiz_.

_Car_. By Heaven, and so will _Carlos_ then; for I’m so resolutely bent to possess that dear Creature, That I will do’t with hazard of my Life, Expence of Fortune, or what’s dear to me.

_Guz_. And how wou’d you reward that politick head, that shou’d contrive the means to bring this handsomly about; not for an a hour, or a night, but even as long as you please, with freedom; without the danger of venturing your honourable neck, in showing Feats of Activity three stories high, with a Dagger in one hand, and a Pistol in t’other, like a Ropedancer?

_Car_. But how? Thou talkest of Impossibilities.

_Ant_. Dost think she’ll e’er consent to quit her Husband?

_Guz_. No, Heaven forbid, I am too good a Christian to part Man and Wife; but being naturally inclined to works of Charity, I will with one project I have in this noddle of mine,--make old _Francisco_ a Cuckold, accommodate my Lord and _Julia_, serve you, Sir,--and give our selves a good Scene of Mirth.

_Car_. Thou amazest me.

_Guz_. If I do’t not, send me to the Galleys; nay, and so far cure the Jealousy of the old Fellow, that from a rigid suspicious troublesom Fool, he shall become so tame and gentle a Husband,--that he shall desire you to favour him so much as to lie with his dear Wife.

_Car_. By what strange Witchcraft shall this be brought to pass?

_Guz_. E’en honest Invention, Sir, good Faith, listen and believe:--When he goes, he certainly goes by Sea, to save the charges of Mules.

_Ant_. Right, I heard him say so; in the Galley that lies in the Port.

_Guz_. Good, there is a Galley also, in the Harbour, you lately took from the _Turks_; Habits too were taken in her enough to furnish out some forty or fifty as convenient _Turks_ as a man wou’d wish at the Devil.

_Car_. Ah, Rogue, I begin to apprehend already.

_Guz_. Our _Turkish_ Galley thus man’d, I’ll put to Sea, and about a League from Land, with a sham-fight set on that of Old _Francisco_, take it, make ‘em all Slaves, clap the Old Fellow under hatches, and then you may deal with the fair Slave his Wife, as _Adam_ did with _Eve_.

_Car_. I’m ravish’d with the thought.

_Ant_. But what will be the event of this?

_Car_. I will not look so far, but stop at the dear Joys, and fear no Fate beyond ‘em.

_Guz_. Nay, with a little cudgelling this dull Brain of mine I shall advance it farther for the Jest-sake;--as I take it, Signior Don _Antonio_, you have a fine Villa, within a Bow-shot of this City belonging to your self.

_Ant_. I have with pleasant Gardens, Grotto’s, Waterworks.--

_Car_. A most admirable Scene for Love and our Designs.

_Ant_. ‘Tis yours, Sir.

_Guz_. Then, Sir, when we have taken this old Fool, on whom the grossest cheat wou’d pass, much more this, which shall carry so seeming a Truth in’t, he being clapt under hatches in the Dark, we’ll wind round a League or two at Sea, turn in, and land at this Garden, Sir, of yours, which we’ll pretend to be a _Seraglio_, belonging to the _Grand Seignior_; whither, in this hot part o’th’ year, he goes to regale himself with his She-Slaves.

_Car_. But the distance of Place and Time allow not such a Fallacy.

_Guz_. Why he never read in’s life; knows neither Longitude nor Latitude, and _Constantinople_ may be in the midst of _Spain_ for any thing he knows; besides, his Fear will give him little leisure for thinking.

_Ant_. But how shall we do with the Seamen of this other Gally?

_Guz_. There’s not above a Dozen, besides the Slaves that are chain’d to the Oar, and those Dozen, a Pistole apiece wou’d not only make ‘em assist in the design, but betray it in earnest to the _Grand Seignior_; --for them I’ll undertake, the Master of it being _Pier de Sala_, your Father’s old Servant, Sir. [_To_ Carlos.

_Ant_. But possibly his mind may alter upon the Arrival of this False Count of ours?

_Car_. No matter, make sure of those Seamen however; that they may be ready upon occasion.

_Ant_. ‘Tis high time for me that your Count were arriv’d, for this morning is destin’d the last of my Liberty.

_Car_. This Morning--Come, haste and dress me-- [_To_ Guz.]--_Guzman_, where’s our Count?

_Enter_ Guiliom _drest fine, two great_ Pages _and a little one following_.

_Guz_. Coming to give you the good morrow, Sir; And shew you how well he looks the Part.

_Car_. Good day to your Lordship-- [_Bowing_.

_Guil_. Morrow, morrow, Friend.

_Ant_. My Lord, your most humble Servant.

_Guil_. Thank you, Friend, thank you; Page, Boy--what’s a-Clock, Sirrah?

_Page_. About Eight, my Lord.

_Ant_. Your Lordship’s early up.

_Guil_. My Stomach was up before me, Friend; and I’m damnably hungry; ’.is strange how a man’s Appetite increases with his Greatness; I’ll swinge it away now I’m a Lord,--then I will wench without Mercy; I’m resolv’d to spare neither Man, Woman, nor Child, not I; hey, Rogues, Rascals, Boys, my Breakfast, quickly, Dogs--let me see, what shall I have now that’s rare?

_Page_. What will your Honour please to have?

_Guil_. A small rasher of delicate Bacon, Sirrah--of about a Pound, or two, with a small Morsel of Bread--round the Loaf, d’ye hear, quickly, Slaves.

_Ant_. That’s gross meat, Sir, a pair of Quails--or--

_Guil_. I thank you for that, i’faith, take your Don again, an you please, I’ll not be starv’d for ne’er a Don in Christendom.

_Ant_. But you must study to refine your Manners a little.

_Guil_. Manners! you shall pardon me for that; as if a Lord had not more privilege to be more saucy, more rude, impertinent, slovenly and foolish than the rest of his Neighbours, or Mankind.

_Car_. Ay, ay, ‘tis great.

_Guil_. Your saucy Rudeness, in a Grandee, is Freedom; your Impertinence, Wit; your Sloven, careless; and your Fool, good natur’d; as least they shall pass so in me, I’ll warrant ye.

_Car_. Well, you have your full Instructions; your Baggage, Bills and Letters, from _Octavio_ the _Sevilian_ Merchant.

_Guz_. All, all, Sir, are ready, and his Lordship’s breakfast waits.

_Car_. Which ended, we advance, Just when _Aurora_ rose from _Thetis’. Bed, Where he had wantoned a short Summer’s night, Harness’d his bright hoov’d Horses to begin His gilded course above the Firmament, Out sallied Don _Gulielmo Rodorigo de Chimney Sweperio_, and so forth. Gad, this adventure of ours will be worthy to be sung in Heroick Rhime Doggerel, before we have finisht it; Come-- [_Goes out_.

_Guil_. Hey, Rogues, Rascals, Boys, follow me just behind.

[_Exeunt_.