Chapter 23

_Enter_ Clara _and_ Jacinta.

_Jac_. Nay, I knew he would be civil, Madam, or I would have borne you Company; but neither my Mistress nor I, cou’d sleep one wink all Night, for fear of a Discovery in the Morning; and to save the poor Gentleman a tumbling Cast from the Window, my Mistress, just at day-break, feigned her self wondrous sick,--I was called, desired to go to Signior _Spadilio’s_ the Apothecary’s, at the next Door, for a Cordial; and so he slipt out;--but the Story of this false Count pleases me extremely, and, if it should take, Lord, what mirth we shall have. Ha, ha, ha, I can’t forbear with the thoughts on’t.

_Cla_. And to see the Governor his Man?

_Jac_. Ah, what a Jest that would be too--Ha, ha, ha! but here comes _Isabella_; let’s puff up her Pride with Flatteries on her Beauty.

_Enter_ Isabella _looking in a Glass, and seeing her Face_.

_Isa_. Ah, Heavens, those Eyes--that Look,--that pretty Leer,--that my Father shou’d be so doating an old Fool to think these Beauties fit for a little Merchandize; a Marchioness wou’d so much better become me. [Looks again. --Ah, what a Smile’s there--and then that scornful Look--’tis great-- Heavens, who’s here? [Sees them.

_Cla_. Only those Friends that wish you better Fortune than this day promises.

_Jac_. Look on that Face; are there not Lines that foretel a world of Greatness, and promise much Honour?

_Cla_. Her Face, her Shape, her Mein, her every part declares her Lady--or something more.

_Isa_. Why, so, and yet this little Creature of a Father, ridiculously and unambitious, would spoil this Lady, to make up a simple Citizen’s Wife--in good time.

_Jac_. That very look had some presaging Grandeur.

_Isa_. Do you think so, _Jacinta_? Ha, ha, ha.

_Jac_. That Laugh again, oh Heavens, how it charms!

_Cla_. And how graceful ‘tis!

_Jac_. Ah, nothing but a great gilt Coach will become it.

_Cla_. With six _Spanish_ Mares.--

_Jac_. And embroidered Trappings.

_Cla_. With four Lackeys.

_Jac_. And a Page at the tail on’t.

_Cla_. She’s evidently design’d for a Person of Quality.

_Isa_. Besides I have so natural an Inclination for a Don, that if my Father do force me to marry this small Creature of a Merchant, I shall make an Intrigue with some body of Quality.

_Cla_. Cou’d you but manage it well, and keep it from _Antonio_.

_Isa_. Keep it from _Antonio_,--is it think you for a little silly Cit, to complain when a Don does him the Honour to visit his Lady? Marry, that were pretty.

_Enter_ Francisco, _and_ Lopez.

_Fran_. How, a Count to speak with me! with me, I say,--here at _Cadiz_.

_Lop_. A Count, Sir, and to speak with you.

_Fran_. Art sure ‘tis not the Governor?--I’ll go lock up my Wife.

_Lop_. Governor, Sir! No, no, ‘tis a mere Stranger, Sir, a rare Count whom I never saw all days of my life before.

_Fran_. And with me wou’d he speak? I hope he comes not to my Wife.

_Enter_ Julia.

_Jul_. Oh Husband, the delicatest fine Person of Quality, just alighted at the Door, Husband.

_Fran_. What, have you seen him then? the Devil’s in these Women, and there be but a Loop-hole to peep out of they’ll spy a man,--I’m resolved to see this thing,--go, retire, you Women, here’s Men coming up.

_Isa_. And will Men eat us?

_Fran_. No, but they may do worse, they may look on ye, and Looking breeds Liking; and Liking, Love; and Love a damn’d thing, call’d Desire; and Desire begets the Devil and all of Mischief to young Wenches--Get ye gone in, I say--here’s a Lord coming--and Lords are plaguy things to Women.

_Isa_. How, a Lord! oh, heavens! _Jacinta_, my Fan, and set my Hair in order, oh, the Gods! I would not but see a Lord for all the World! how my Heart beats already--keep your Distance behind, _Jacinta_,--bless me, how I tremble--a little farther, _Jacinta_.

_Fran_. Come, come, Huswife, you shall be married anon, and then let your Husband have the plague of you--but for my Gentlewoman,--Oh Lord --they’re here.

_Enter_ Guiliom, Carlos, _and_ Pages, _&c_.

_Gull_. How now, Fellow, where’s this old Don _Francisco_?

_Fran_. I’m the Person, Sir.

_Isa_. Heavens, what an Air he has!

_Guil_. Art thou he? Old Lad, how dost thou do? Hah!

_Fran_. I don’t know.

_Guil_. Thou knowest me not it seems, old Fellow, hah!

_Fran_. Know you--no, nor desire to do,--on what acquaintance, pray?

_Guil_. By Instinct; such as you ought to know a Person of Quality, and pay your Civilities naturally; in _France_, where I have travel’d, so much good manners is used, your Citizen pulls off his hat, thus--to every Horse of Quality, and every Coach of Quality; and do you pay my proper Person no more respect, hah!

_Isa_. What a Dishonour’s this to me, to have so dull a Father, that needs to be instructed in his Duty.

_Guil_. But, Sir, to open the eyes of your understanding--here’s a Letter to you, from your Correspondent a Merchant of _Sevil_.

[_Gives him a dirty Letter which he wipes on his Cloke and reads, and begins to pull off his hat, and reading on bows lower and lower till he have finisht it_.

_Fran_. Cry Mercy, my Lord,--and yet I wou’d he were a thousand Leagues off.

_Guil_. I have Bills of Exchange too, directed to thee, old Fellow, at _Sevil_; but finding thee not there, and I (as most Persons of my Quality are) being something idle, and never out of my way, came to this Town, to seek thee, Fellow--being recommended as thou seest here, old Vermin--here-- [_Gives him Bills_.

_Isa_. Ah, what a graceful Mein he has! how fine his Conversation! ah, the difference between him and a filthy Citizen!

_Jul_.--_Clara_ has told me all.-- [Jac. _whispering to_ Jul.

_Car_. That’s she in the middle; stand looking on her languishingly, --your head a little on one side,--so,--fold your Arms,--good,--now and then heave your breast with a sigh,--most excellent.-- [_He groans_.

_Fran_. Bills for so many thousands.

_Jac_. He has you in his eye already.

_Isa_. Ah, _Jacinta_, thou flatterest me.

_Jac_. Return him some kind looks in pity. [_She sets her Eyes, and bows, &c_.

_Car_. That other’s my Mistress,--couldst thou but keep this old Fellow in discourse whilst I give her the sign to retire a little.--

_Guil_. I’ll warrant you I’ll banter him till you have cuckolded him, if you manage matters as well as I.

_Fran_. My Lord, I ask your pardon for my rudeness in not knowing you before, which I ought to have done in good manners I confess; who the Devil does he stare at so?--Wife, I command you to withdraw, upon pain of our high displeasure.--my Lord, I shall dispatch your affairs,--he minds me not,--Ay, ‘tis my Wife, I say, Minion, be gone,--your Bills, my Lord, are good, and I accept ‘em;--why a Devil he minds me not yet, [Julia _goes to t’other side to_ Carlos.]--and though I am not at my proper home,--I am where I can command Money,--hum,--sure ‘tis my Daughter,--Ay, ay,--’tis so, how if he should be smitten now; the plaguy Jade had sure the Spirit of Prophecy in her; ‘tis so--’tis she--my Lord.

_Guil_. Prithee, old Fellow, Peace,--I am in love.

_Fran_. In love,--what, shall I be the Father of a Lord? wou’d it become me, think ye?--he’s mighty full of Cogitabund--my Lord,--sure his Soul has left the Tenement of his Body--I have his Bills here, and care not if it never return more. [_Looks over the Bills_.

_Car_. Dear _Julia_, let’s retire, our time’s but short.

_Jul_. I dare not with you, the venture wou’d be too bold in a young beginner in the Thefts of Love.

_Guil_. Her Eyes are Suns, by _Jove_.

_Car_. Oh, nothing is so ventrous as Love, if it be true.

_Guil_. Or else, two Morning Stars, All other Beauties are but Soot to her.

_Jul_. But shou’d my Husband--

_Car_. He’s safe for one dear half hour, I’ll warrant you, come.

_Fran_. Um--my Wife here still, must I begin to thunder.

_Jul_. Lord, and you be so froward, I’ll be gone.--

_Car_. So, her Husband, kind heart, lest she should be cruel, has himself given me the dear opportunity.--[_Aside_.--Be sure you keep the old Fellow in discourse awhile.

_Guil_. Be you as sure to cuckold him.-- [_Ex_. Car. _and_ Jul. --Old Fellow,--prithee what Person of Quality is that?

_Fran_. Person of Quality! alas, my Lord, ‘tis a silly Citizen’s Daughter.

_Guil_. A Citizen’s! what clod of Earth cou’d bring forth such a Beauty?

_Fran_. Alas, my Lord, I am that clod of Earth, and to Earth, if you call it so, she must return again, for she’s to be married to a Citizen this Morning.

_Guil_. Oh! I am doubly wounded, first with her harmonious Eyes, Who’ve fir’d my Heart to that Degree, No Chimney ever burnt like me. Fair Lady,--suffer the Broom of my Affection to sweep all other Lovers from your heart.

_Isa_. Ah, my Lord, name it not, I’m this day to be married.

_Guil_. To day! name me the Man; Man did I say? the Monster, that dares lay claim to her I deign to love,--none answer me,--I’ll make him smoak, by _Vulcan_--and all the rest of the Goddesses.

_Fran_. Bless me, what a furious thing this Love is?

_Guil_. By this bright Sword, that is so used to slaughter, he dies; [_Draws_.] old Fellow, say--the Poltroon’s name.

_Fran_. Oh, fearful--alas, dread Sir!

_Isa_. Ah! sheath your Sword, and calm your generous Rage.

_Guil_. I cannot brook a Rival in my Love, the rustling Pole of my Affection is too strong to be resisted. _Runs raging up and down the Stage with his Sword in his hand_.

_Isa_. I cannot think, my Lord, so mean a Beauty can so suddenly charm a Heart so great as yours.

_Guil_. Oh! you’re mistaken, as soon as I cast my eyes upon the Full-moon of your Countenance, I was struck blind and dumb.

_Fran_. Ay, and deaf too, I’ll be sworn, he cou’d neither hear, see nor understand; this Love’s a miraculous thing.

_Guil_. And that Minute, the most renoun’d Don _Gulielmo Roderigo de Chimeny Sweperio_, became your Gally-Slave,--I say no more, but that I do love,--and I will love,--and that if you are but half so willing as I, I will dub you, Viscountess _de Chimeny Sweperio_.

_Isa_. I am in Heaven, ah! I die, _Jacinta_. How can I credit this, that am so much unworthy?

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

_Fran_. Do’t, but, my Lord, and with what face can I put off Signior _Antonio_, hum.

_Guil_. _Antonio_,--hy, Pages, give order that _Antonio_ be instantly run through the Lungs--d’ye hear?

_Fran_. Oh, hold, hold, my Lord! run through the Lungs!

_Page_. It shall be done, my Lord! but what _Antonio_?

_Guil_. Why, any _Antonio_; all the _Antonio’s_ that you find in _Cadiz_.

_Fran_. Oh, what bloody-minded Monsters these Lords are!--But, my Lord, I’ll ne’er give you the trouble of killing him, I’ll put him off with a handsom Compliment; as thus,--Why, look ye, Friend _Antonio_, the business is this, my Daughter _Isabella_ may marry a Lord, and you may go fiddle.--

_Guil_. Ay, that’s civil,--and if he do not desist, I’ll unpeople _Spain_ but I’ll kill him; for, Madam, I’ll tell you what happened to me in the Court of _France_--there was a Lady in the Court in love with me,--she took a liking to my Person which--I think,--you will confess--

_Isa_. To be the most accomplisht in the World.

_Guil_. I had some sixscore Rivals, they all took Snuff; that is, were angry--at which I smiled;--they were incensed; at which I laught, ha, ha, ha,--i’faith; they rag’d, I--when I met ‘em,--Cockt, thus--_en passant_--justled ‘em--thus,--[_Overthrows_ Fran.] They turn’d and frown’d,--thus,--I drew.--

_Fran_. What, on all the sixscore, my Lord?

_Guil_. All, all; sa, sa, quoth I, sa, sa, sa, sa, sa, sa. [_Fences him round the Stage_.

_Fran_. Hold, hold, my Lord, I am none of the sixscore.

_Guil_. And run ‘em all through the Body!

_Fran_. Oh Heavens! and kill’d ‘em all.

_Guil_. Not a Man,--only run ‘em through the body a little, that’s all, my two Boys were by, my Pages here.

_Isa_. Is it the fashion, Sir, to be attended by Pages so big?

_Guil_. Pages of Honour always;--these were stinted at nurse, or they had been good proper Fellows.

_Fran_. I am so frighted with this relation, that I must up to my Wife’s Chamber for a little of that strong Cordial that recovered her this morning. [_Going out_ Guil. _stays him_.

_Guil_. Why, I’ll tell you, Sir, what an odd sort of a Wound I received in a Duel the other day,--nay, Ladies, I’ll shew it you; in a very odd place--in my back parts. [_Goes to untuck his Breeches, the Ladies squeak_.

_Isa_. Ah.

_Page_. Shew a Wound behind, Sir! the Ladies will think you are a Coward.

_Guil_. Peace, Child, peace, the Ladies understand Dueling as little as my self; but, since you are so tender-hearted, Ladies, I’ll not shew you my wound; but faith, it spoiled my dancing.

_Page comes in_.

_Page_. My Lord, now you talk of dancing, here’s your Baggage brought from a-board the Gally by your Seamen, who us’d to entertain you with their rustick Sports.

_Guil_. Very well; Sir, with your permission, I am resolved whether you will or no, to give the Ladies some divertisement,--bid ‘em come in; nay, Sir, you stir not. [Ex. Page. ’.is for your delight, Sir, I do’t; for, Sir, you must understand, a Man, if he have any thing in him, Sir, of Honour, for the case, Sir, lies thus, ‘tis not the business of an Army to droll upon an Enemy--truth is, every man loves a whole skin;--but ‘twas the fault of the best Statesmen in Christendom to be loose in the hilts,--you conceive me.

_Fran_. Very well, my Lord, I’ll swear he’s a rare spoken man;--why, what a Son-in-law shall I have? I have a little business, my Lord, but I’ll wait on you presently. [Going out.

_Guil_. Sir, there is nothing like your true jest; a thing once well done, is twice done, and I am the happiest Man in the World in your Alliance; for, Sir, a Nobleman if he have any tolerable parts,--is a thing much above the Vulgar;--oh,--here comes the Dancers.

_Enter Dancers_.

Come, sit down by me.

_Fran_. ‘Tis my duty to stand, my Lord.

_Guil_. Nay, you shall sit.

[They dance.

_Enter_ Antonio.

_Ant_. Good day, Sir, I hope you will not chide my tardiness, I have a little overslept my self, and am ashamed to see my lovely Bride, and all this worthy Company attend. --But you, fair Creature-- [_To_ Isabella.

_Isa_. No marrying to day, Sir.

_Fran_. No, Sir, no marrying to day.

_Ant_. How, do I dream, or hear this from _Francisco_?

_Guil_. How now, Fellow, what art thou?

_Ant_. The Husband of that proud disdainful Woman.

_Guil_. Another word like that--and thou art--

_Ant_. What, Sir?

_Fran_. Oh, hold, hold, my Lord! _Antonio_, I must tell you, you’re uncivil.

_Guil_. Dost know, dull Mortal, that I am a Lord, And _Isabella_ my adopted Lady.

_Ant_. I beg your pardon, Sir, if it be so, poor Mortals can but grieve in silence.

_Guil_. Alas, poor Mortal!

_Ant_. But, for you, _Francisco_.

_Fran_. Ah, dear _Antonio_, I vow and swear I cannot chuse but weep to lose thee; but my Daughter was born for a Lady, and none can help their destiny.

_Ant_. And is it possible thou canst use me thus? [_To_ Isa.

_Isa_. Take away that little Fellow; in pity of your life, I deign to bid you withdraw and be safe.

_Guil_. D’ye hear, hah?--this Lady has beg’d your life.

_Ant_. Beg’d my Life!

_Guil_. Vile Wretch, dar’st thou retort? [Draws, the Women hold him.

_Fran_. Oh, hold, hold, my noble Son-in-law, he shall do any thing;-- dear _Antonio_, consider, I was never Father to a Lord all days of my Life before:--my Lord, be pacified, my Daughter shall be a Lady.

_Isa_. For my sake spare him, and be Friends with him, as far as you may deign to be with a little Citizen.

_Guil_. Fellow, I forgive thee,--here’s my hand to kiss in sign and token I am appeased. [_Gives him his hand to kiss, ‘tis all black_.

_Ant_. A Pox of his honourable hand, ‘t had like to have spoiled all, --well, since it must be so, I am content.

_Guil_. So, now Peace is concluded on, on all sides, what shall we do to day besides eating and drinking in abundance; for to morrow I shall get my self in order for my Marriage.

_Cla_. What thinks your Honour of taking the Air upon the Sea, in a Galley, a League or two?

_Guil_. With Fiddles, Drums and Trumpets, Westphalia hams and Pidgeons, and the like: Hey, Rogues, Scoundrels, Dogs.

_Isa_. Ah, how fine is every Action of a great Man!

_Guil_. Command a Galley to attend us presently. --You shall along, old Boy. [To Fran.

_Fran_. Alas, I must stay at home with my Wife, my Lord.

_Guil_. A Wife! have I a Mother-in-law too?--she must along with us, and take a frisk,--no denial.

_Enter_ Carlos.

--Oh, are you come? [Aside.

_Car_. Yes, and thank thee for the best moment of my Life--Hast thou contrived the Voyage then?

_Guil_. Take no care--come, haste on board--our Honour will not lose the Fresco of the Morning,--Follow me, Pages.

_Page_. At your heels, my Lord--

[_Exeunt_.