ACT I. SCENE I.

_Don_ LOPEZ, _and a Servant walking over the stage. Enter another Servant, and follows him_.

_Serv._ Don Lopez.

_Lop._ Any new business?

_Serv._ My master had forgot this letter, Which he conjures you, as you are his friend, To give Aurelia from him.

_Lop._ Tell Don Melchor, 'Tis a hard task which he enjoins me: He knows I love her, and much more than he; For I love her alone, but he divides His passion betwixt two. Did he consider How great a pain 'tis to dissemble love, He would never practise it.

_Serv._ He knows his fault, but cannot mend it.

_Lop._ To make the poor Aurelia believe He's gone for Flanders, whilst he lies concealed, And every night makes visits to her cousin-- When will he leave this strange extravagance?

_Serv._ When he can love one more, or t'other less.

_Lop._ Before I loved myself, I promised him To serve him in his love; and I'll perform it, Howe'er repugnant to my own concernments.

_Serv._ You are a noble cavalier. [_Exit Servant._

_Enter_ BELLAMY, WILDBLOOD, _and_ MASKALL.

_2 Serv._ Sir, your guests, of the English ambassador's retinue.

_Lop._ Cavaliers, will you please to command my coach to take the air this evening?

_Bel._ We have not yet resolved how to dispose of ourselves; but, however, we are highly acknowledging to you for your civility.

_Lop._ You cannot more oblige me, than by laying your commands on me.

_Wild._ We kiss your hand. [_Exeunt_ LOPEZ _and Serv_.

_Bel._ Give the Don his due, he entertained us nobly this carnival.

_Wild._ Give the devil the Don, for any thing I liked in his entertainment.

_Bel._ I hope we had variety enough.

_Wild._ Ay, it looked like variety, till we came to taste it; there were twenty several dishes to the eye, but in the palate, nothing but spices. I had a mind to eat of a pheasant, and as soon as I got it into my mouth, I found I was chewing a limb of cinnamon; then I went to cut a piece of kid, and no sooner it had touched my lips, but it turned to red pepper: At last I began to think myself another kind of Midas, that every thing I touched should be turned to spice.

_Bel._ And, for my part, I imagined his Catholic majesty had invited us to eat his Indies. But pr'ythee, let's leave the discourse of it, and contrive together how we may spend the evening; for in this hot country, 'tis as in the creation, the evening and the morning make the day.

_Wild._ I have a little serious business.

_Bel._ Put it off till a fitter season: For the truth is, business is then only tolerable, when the world and the flesh have no baits to set before us for the day.

_Wild._ But mine, perhaps, is public business.

_Bel._ Why, is any business more public than drinking and wenching? Look on those grave plodding fellows, that pass by us as though they were meditating the reconquest of Flanders: Fly them to a mark, and I'll undertake three parts of four are going to their courtezans. I tell thee, Jack, the whisking of a silk gown, and the rush of a tabby petticoat, are as comfortable sounds to one of these rich citizens, as the chink of their pieces of eight.

_Wild._ This being granted to be the common design of human kind, it is more than probable it is yours; therefore I'll leave you to the prosecution of it.

_Bel._ Nay, good Jack, mine is but a mistress in embryo; the possession of her is at least some days off; and till that time, thy company will be pleasant, and may be profitable to carry on the work. I would use thee like an under kind of chemist, to blow coals; it will be time enough for me to be alone, when I come to projection.

_Wild._ You must excuse me, Frank; I have made an appointment at the gaming-house.

_Bel._ What to do there, I pr'ythee? To mis-spend that money, which kind fortune intended for a mistress? Or to learn new oaths and curses to carry into England? That is not it--I heard you were to marry when you left home: Perhaps that may be still running in your head, and keep you virtuous.

_Wild._ Marriage, quotha! what, dost thou think I have been bred in the deserts of Africa, or among the savages of America? Nay, if I had, I must needs have known better things than so; the light of nature would not have let me go so far astray.

_Bel._ Well, what think you of the Prado this evening?

_Wild._ Pox upon't, 'tis worse than our contemplative Hyde-Park.

_Bel._ Oh, but we must submit to the custom of the country for courtship: Whatever the means are, we are sure the end is still the same in all places. But who are these?

_Enter_ DON ALONZO DE RIBERA, _with his two Daughters_, THEODOSIA _and_ JACINTHA, _and_ BEATRIX, _their Woman, passing by_.

_Theo._ Do you see those strangers, sister, that eye us so earnestly?

_Jac._ Yes, and I guess them to be feathers of the English ambassador's train; for I think I saw them at the grand audience--and have the strongest temptation in the world to talk to them: A mischief on this modesty!

_Beat._ A mischief of this father of yours, that haunts you so.

_Jac._ 'Tis very true, Beatrix; for though I am the younger sister, I should have the grace to lay modesty first aside: However, sister, let us pull up our veils, and give them an essay of our faces. [_They pull up their veils, and pull them down again._

_Wild._ Ah, Bellamy! undone, undone! Dost thou see those beauties?

_Bel._ Pr'ythee, Wildblood, hold thy tongue, and do not spoil my contemplation: I am undoing myself as fast as ever I can, too.

_Wild._ I must go to them.

_Bel._ Hold, madman! Dost thou not see their father? Hast thou a mind to have our throats cut?

_Wild._ By a Hector of fourscore? Hang our throats: What! a lover, and cautious? [_Is going towards them._

_Alon._ Come away, daughters; we shall be late else.

_Bel._ Look you, they are on the wing already.

_Wild._ Pr'ythee, dear Frank, let's follow them: I long to know who they are.

_Mask._ Let me alone, I'll dog them for you.

_Bel._ I am glad on't; for my shoes so pinch me, I can scarce go a step farther.

_Wild._ Cross the way there lives a shoemaker: Away quickly, that we may not spoil our design. [_Exeunt_ BEL. _and_ WILD.

_Alon._ [_offers to go off_.] Now, friend! what's your business to follow us?

_Mask._ Noble Don, 'tis only to recommend my service to you: A certain violent passion I have had for your worship, since the first moment that I saw you.

_Alon._ I never saw thee before, to my remembrance.

_Mask._ No matter, sir; true love never stands upon ceremon y.

_Alon._ Pr'ythee be gone, my saucy companion, or I'll clap an alguazil upon thy heels: I tell thee I have no need of thy service.

_Mask._ Having no servant of your own, I cannot, in good manners, leave you destitute.

_Alon._ I'll beat thee, if thou followest me.

_Mask._ I am your spaniel, sir; the more you beat me, the better I'll wait on you.

_Alon._ Let me entreat thee to be gone; the boys will hoot at me to see me followed thus against my will.

_Mask._ Shall you and I concern ourselves for what the boys do, sir? Pray do you hear the news at court?

_Alon._ Pr'ythee, what's the news to thee or me?

_Mask._ Will you be at the next _juego de cannas_?

_Alon._ If I think good.

_Mask._ Pray go on, sir; we can discourse as we walk together: And whither were you now a-going, sir?

_Alon._ To the devil, I think.

_Mask._ O, not this year or two, sir, by your age.

_Jac._ My father was never so matched for talking in all his life before; he who loves to hear nothing but himself: Pr'ythee, Beatrix, stay behind, and see what this impudent Englishman would have.

_Beat._ Sir, if you'll let my master go, I'll be his pawn.

_Mask._ Well, sir, I kiss your hand, in hope to wait on you another time.

_Alon._ Let us mend our pace, to get clear of him.

_Theo._ If you do not, he'll be with you again, like Atalanta in the fable, and make you drop another of your golden apples. [_Exeunt_ ALON. THEO. _and_ JACINTHA. [MASKALL _whispers_ BEATRIX _the while_.

_Beat._ How much good language is here thrown away, to make me betray my ladies?

_Mask._ If you will discover nothing of them, let me discourse with you a little.

_Beat._ As little as you please.

_Mask._ They are rich, I suppose?

_Beat._ Now you are talking of them again: But they are as rich, as they are fair.

_Mask._ Then they have the Indies: Well, but their names, my sweet mistress.

_Beat._ Sweet servant, their names are----

_Mask._ Their names are--out with it boldly--

_Beat._ A secret--not to be disclosed.

_Mask._ A secret, say you? Nay, then, I conjure you, as you are a woman, tell it me.

_Beat._ Not a syllable.

_Mask._ Why, then, as you are a waiting-woman; as you are the sieve of all your lady's secrets, tell it me.

_Beat._ You lose your labour; nothing will strain through me.

_Mask._ Are you so well stopped in the bottom?

_Beat._ It was enjoined me strictly as a secret.

_Mask._ Was it enjoined thee strictly, and canst thou hold it? Nay, then, thou art invincible: But, by that face, that more than ugly face, which I suspect to be under thy veil, disclose it to me.

_Beat._ By that face of thine, which is a natural visor, I will not tell thee.

_Mask._ By thy----

_Beat._ No more swearing, I beseech you.

_Mask._ That woman's worth little, that is not worth an oath: Well, get thee gone; now I think on't, thou shalt not tell me.

_Beat._ Shall I not? Who shall hinder me? They are Don Alonzo de Ribera's daughters.

_Mask._ Out, out: I'll stop my ears.

_Beat._ They live hard by, in the _Calle maior_.

_Mask._ O, infernal tongue--

_Beat._ And are going to the next chapel with their father.

_Mask._ Wilt thou never have done tormenting me? In my conscience, anon thou wilt blab out their names too.

_Beat._ Their names are Theodosia and Jacintha.

_Mask._ And where's your great secret now?

_Beat._ Now, I think, I am revenged on you, for running down my poor old master.

_Mask._ Thou art not fully revenged, till thou hast told me thy own name too.

_Beat._ 'Tis Beatrix, at your service, sir; pray remember I wait on them.

_Mask._ Now I have enough, I must be going.

_Beat._ I perceive you are just like other men; when you have got your ends, you care not how soon you are going. Farewell:--you'll be constant to me?

_Mask._ If thy face, when I see it, do not give me occasion to be otherwise.

_Beat._ You shall take a sample, that you may praise it, when you see it next. [_She pulls up her veil._

_Enter_ WILDBLOOD _and_ BELLAMY.

_Wild._ Look, there's your dog with a duck in's mouth.--Oh, she's got loose, and dived again. [_Exit_ BEATRIX.

_Beat._ Well, Maskall, what news of the ladies of the lake?

_Mask._ I have learned enough to embark you in an adventure. They are daughters to one Don Alonzo de Ribera, in the _Calle maior_, their names Theodosia and Jacintha, and they are going to their devotions in the next chapel.

_Wild._ Away then, let us lose no time. I thank heaven, I never found myself better inclined to godliness, than at this present. [_Exeunt._