The Dutch lover a comedy acted at the Dvkes theatre / written by Mrs. A. Bhen [sic]

ACT V.

SCENE I.

[A Garden.

Enter Cleonte, Clarinda weeping, and Dormida, and Francisca.

Cleo.

FEar not, I'l use my interest both with your Mother and my Father, to set your heart at rest, Whose pain I feel by something in my own.

Clar.

The Gods reward your bounty, fair Cleonte.

Dor.

I, I, Madam, I beseech you make our peace with my good Lady her Mother, what ever becomes of the rest, for she'l e'en dye with grief—

[Weeps.

She had but too fair pledges of her Nuptial Bed, And both by cruel fate are ravisht from her. Manual a child was lost, And this; not holy Reliques were more strictly guarded, Till false Marcel betray'd me to debauch her.

[Weeps aloud.

Cleo.

Alas, had you a brother once?

[To Clarinda.

Clar.

Madam, I might have had: but he was lost ere I was born.

Cleo.

Ah would my Silvio had been so.

[Aside.

By what strange accident Clarinda?

Dorm.

Madam, I can inform you best.

[Puts her self between.

Cleo.

Do then Dormida.

Dorm.

Madam, you must know, my Lady Octavia, for that's her name, was in her youth the very flower of Beau∣ty and Vertue: Oh such a face and shape, had you but seen her—And though I say it, Madam, I thought my self too somebody then.

Clar.

Thou art tedious: Madam, 'tis true my Mother had the reputation of both those attractions, which gain'd her m••ny Lovers: amongst the rest, Don Manual, and Don Alonzo, were most worthy her esteem.

Dor.

I, Madam, Don Alonzo, there was a man for you, so obliging and so bountiful.—Well, I'l give you an Argu∣ment of both to me: for you must know I was a Beauty then, and worth obliging.

[Puts her self between.

And he was the man my Lady lov'd, though Don Manual were the richer: but to my own story—

Cleo.

Forward Clarinda.

Clar.

But as it most times happens, We marry where our Parents like, not we; My Mother was dispos'd of to Don Manual.

Dor.

I, Madam; but had you seen Don Alonzo's rage, and how my Lady took this disappointment—But I who was very young, and very pretty as I told you before—

Cleo.

Forbear. Madam, 'tis true, Alonzo was so far transported, That oft he did attempt to kill my Father; But bravely tho', and still he was prevented: But when at the intreaties of my Mother, The King confin'd my Father, Alonzo then studyed a new revenge, And thinking that my Father's life depended Upon a son he had scarce a year old; He did design to steal him, and one evening,

When with his Nurse and Maid he took the Air, This desperate Lover seiz'd the smiling prize, Which never since was heard of.

Cleo.

I guess the grief the Parents must sustain.

Dor.

It almost caus'd their deaths, nor did kind heaven Supply them with another till long after, Unhappy this was born. Which just her father liv'd to see, and dy'd.

[Weeps.

Then she was, Daughter, Son, and Husband too,

To her afflicted Mother: But as I told you Madam, I was then in my prime—

Clar.

Now, Madam, judge what her despair must be, Who is depriv'd of all her joys in me.

[VVeeps.

Cleo.

Francisca, see who is that knocks so hastily.

[One knocks.

Franc.

Oh, Madam, 'tis Don Marcel leading a wounded man.

Cleo.

Oh my fears, 'tis ••ilvi••.

Franc.

'Tis not Don Silvio.

Enter Marcel leading Hippolyta wounded, followed by Alonzo and Pedro.

[Aside.

Cleo.

Alas, what youth is this you lead all bleeding?

Mar.

One that deserves your care; where's my Father?

Cleo.

Not yet return'd.

Mar.

'Tis well; and you, Sir, I must confine till I know How to satisfie my honour, and that of my wrong'd Sister.

[To Antonio.

Ant.

The holy man will soon decide our difference▪ Pray send for one, and reconcile us all.

Hip.

I fear Antonio still thou dost dissemble.

Ant.

So let me find forgiveness when I dye: If any fear of death have wrought this change: But a pure sense of all my wrongs to thee, Knowing thy constant love, and vertue to me.

Mar.

I will secure your fear—Francisca, send for Father Ioseph to me, and conduct these Gentlemen to the Lodgings next the Garden.

[Exeunt Francisca, Antonio and Hippolyta.

Alon.

Prethee Marcel, are thee and I awake, or do we dream? thou, that thou art in thy Fathers House; and I, that I see those two fair women there. Pray lovely fugitive, how come you hither?

[To Clarinda.

Mar.

I thought thou wert mistaken, 'Twas Silvio brought her hither, that false man. But how came you to know her?

Alon.

Know her! 'slife I question my sense. Pray Lady are you flesh and blood?

[To Cleonte.

Cleo.

Yes surely, Sir; for 'twere pity you should have be∣stow'd your heart on a shadow, and I well remember you gave it one of us last night.

Alon.

A dream, a dream, but are you indeed the same fair person, and is this the same house too?

Cleo.

I am afraid your heart's not worth the keeping, since you took no better notice where you dispos'd of it.

Alon.

Faith, Madam, you wrong a poor Lover, who has languish'd in search of it all this live-long day.

Cleo.

Brother, I beseech you, receive the innocent Cla∣rinda, who, I fear, will have the greatest cause of complaint against you.

[To Marcel. Gives him Clarinda▪

Alon.

But pray, fair one, let you and I talk a little about that same heart you put me in mind of just now.

[To Cleonte, with whom he seems to talk.

Ped.

Surely that's my old Mistress Dormida; twenty years has not made so great an alteration in that ill-favour'd face of hers, but I can find a Lover there.

Goes to her, they seem to talk earnestly, and sometimes pleasantly, pointing to Clarinda.

Mar.

Enough Clarinda: I'm too well convinc'd, Would thou hadst still remain'd a criminal. Now how can I reward thy faith and love?

Clar.

I know Marcel, it is not in thy power, Thy faithless story I'm acquinted with.

Mar.

Do not reproach me with my shame Clarinda. 'Tis true, to gain thee to consent to my desires, I made an honourable pretence of loving. Pardon a Lover, all the ways he takes

To gain a Mistress so belov'd and fair. But I have since repented of that sin, And came last night for thy forgiveness too.

Ped.

This is news indeed; 'tis fit I keep this secret no longer from my Master. Don Manual being dead, my vow's exspir'd.

[Aside.]

[Pedro goes to Alonzo.

Clar.

And do you mean no more to love me then?

Mar.

In spight of me above my sence or being.

Clar.

And yet you'l marry Flavia?

Mar.

Against my will I must, or lose a Father.

Clar.

Then I must dye, Marcel.

Mar.

Do not unman my soul, it is too weak To bear the weight of fair Clarinda's tears.

Alon.

Why was this secret kept from me so long?

Ped.

I was oblig'd by vow, Sir, to Don Alonzo my dead Master, not to restore you till Don Manual's death; be∣lieving it a happiness too great for his Rival, for so he was upon your Mothers score.

Alon.

Have I a Mother living?

Ped.

Here in Madrid, Sir, and that fair maid's your Sister.

[Pointing to Clarinda.

Alon.

I scarce can credit thee, but that I know thee ho∣nest.

Ped.

To confirm that belief, Sir, here are the writings of twelve thousand crowns a year, left you by your Foster

[Gives him papers, he reads.

Father, the brave Alonzo, whose name he gave you too.

Alon.

I am convinc'd—How now Marcel, what all in tears? why who the Divel would love in earnest? Come, come, make me judge between you.

Mar.

You'l soon decide it then, my heart's Clarinda's; But my forc'd vows are given to another.

Alon.

Vows! dost think the Gods regard the vows of Lovers? they are things made in necessity, and ought not to be kept, nor punish'd when broken: if they were— Heaven have mercy on me poor sinner.

Enter Ambrosio.

Mar.

My Father return'd!

[Bows and goes to him, and then leads Alonzo to him.

Sir, this is the gallant man that was desig••'d to be your son-in-Law.

Amb.

And that you were not so, Sir, was my misfortune only.

Alon.

I am glad to find it no slight to my person, Or unknown quality that depriv'd me of that honour.

Mar.

To convince you of that, Alonzo, I know my fa∣ther will bestow this other sister on you; more fair and young, and equally as rich.

[Ambrosio calls Marcel aside.

Alon.

How, his Sister! Fool, that I was, I could not gues•• at this; and now have I been lying and swearing all this while how much I lov'd her. Well, take one time with ano∣ther, a man falls into more danger by this amorous humour, than he gets good turns by it.

Mar.

Pardon me, Sir, I knew not you had design'd her else∣where —Dear Alonzo, my Father—

Alon.

I, Sir, I am much oblig'd to him. Oh Pox would I were well with Euphemia.

Mar.

I protest I could wish—

Alon.

I, so could I, Sir, that you had made a better judge∣ment of my humour: all must out, I have no other way to avoid this complement else. Why look ye Marcel—your Sister is—Pox I am ill at dissimulation, and therefore in plain terms, I am to be marryed this very evening to ano∣ther.

Mar.

This was happy, and has sav'd me an excuse.

[Aside.

But are you in earnest, Sir? how is it possible, being so lately come into Madrid?

Alon.

Destiny, destiny, Marcel, which there was no avoid∣ing, tho' I mist of Hippolyta.

Mar.

Who is it prethee?

Alon.

A woman I hope, of which indeed I would have been better assur'd; but she was wilful. She's call'd Euphemia.

Mar.

Our next neighbour, the Daughter of old Carlo.

Alon.

The same.

Mar.

Thou art happy to make so good a progress in so short a time, but I am—

Alon.

Not so miserable as you believe. Come, come, you shall marry Clarinda.

Mar.

'Tis impossible.

Alon.

Where's the hindrance.

Mar.

Her want of fortune; that's enough, friend.

Alon.

Stand by and expect the best.—

[Goes to Ambrosio.

Sir, I have an humble sute to you.

Amb.

I should be infinitely pleas'd you could ask me any thing in my power, but, Sir, this daughter I had dispos'd of, before I knew you would have mist of Hippolyta.

Alon.

Luckyer than I expected.

[Aside.

Sir, that was an honour I could not merit, and am con∣tented with my fate: But my request is, that you would re∣ceive into your family a Sister of mine, whom I would be∣stow on Don Marcel.

Mar.

Hah, what mean you, Sir! a Sister of yours?

Alon.

Yes, she will not be unwelcome▪—This is she.

Amb.

This is the daughter to Octavia—Her Mother was a Lady whom once I did adore, and 'twas her fault she was not more happy with me, than with Don Manual. Nor have I so wholly forgot that flame, but I might be inclin'd to your proposal: But, Sir, she wants a fortune.

Alon.

That I'l supply.

Mar.

You supply, Sir? on what kind scorce, I pray?

Alon.

That which you'l suffer without being jealous, When you shall know she is indeed my Sister.

Clar.

How! this brave man my Brother?

Alon.

So they tell me, and that my name is Manual▪ Had you not such a Brother?

Dor.

Oh ye gods, is this the little Manual?

Ped.

Yes Dormida, and for a farther proof see this.

[Opens his masters bosom, and shows a Crucifix.

Dor.

This I remember well, it is Don Manual: Pray let me look upon you: Just like my Lord—

Now may the soul of Don Alonzo rest in peace, For making so hopeful a man of you.

Alon.

Amen. But, Sir, if you approve of my Sister, I'l make her as worthy of Marcel, as Flavia.

Amb.

I've lost the hopes of her—She's not to be reconcil'd.

[Aside.

Clarinda needs no more than to belong to you, To make her valuable—and I consent with joy.

[Gives her to Marcel.

Mar.

And I with joys beyound expression, Sir, receive her.

Alon.

Pedro, there rests no more than that you wait on my Mother, and let her know all that has happend to my self and sister, and that I'l pay my duty to her ere I sleep.

Dor.

The very joy to find her Son again, will get my par∣don too, and then perhaps Pedro and I may renew our old amours.

Alon.

Sir, I have another request to make.

Amb.

You must command, Sir.

Alon.

That is, that you will permit this fair company to honour me this evening at my Father-in-laws Don Carlo.

Amb.

How, has Don Carlo married the Lady Octavia?

Alon.

No, Sir, but a worse matter than that, I am to marry his Daughter.

Amb.

Oh, Sir, Euphemia has too much beauty and vertue to make you doubt your happiness.

Alon.

Well, Sir, I must venture that. But your company I'l expect, the Ladies may clap on their Vizards, and make a Masquerading night on't: though such freedoms are not very usual in Spain; we that have seen the world, may absolve one another.

Amb.

My Garden joyns to that of Don Carlo▪ and that way we will wait on you, as soon as I have dispatcht a small affair.

Alon.

Your humble Servant, Sir.

[Goes out. Ambrosio the other way.

Mar.

Sister, go you and prepare my Father to receive Hip∣polyta, whilst I go see them married.

[Exeunt Cleonte and Clarinda.

Marcel passing over the garden, sees Silvio enter in passion, follow'd by Francisca.

Sil••.

Do not Francisca—do not blow my flame, The cure thou bringst is much the greater Hell.

[Offers to go, but stops.

Mar.

Hah, Silvio; unseen I'l hear their business.

[Goes aside.

Sil.

I would fain shun thee, but this impious weight Of love upon my soul, hinders my flight: I'm fixt—like conscious guilt it keep me here, And I am now insensible of fear. Speak on! thou messenger of Sacred Love—speak on!

Franc.

The fair Cleonte, Sir, whose soul's inflam'd No less than yours; though with a Virgin modesty She would conceal it, pitying now your pain Has through my intercession—

Sil.

Oh quickly speak! what happiness design'd me?

Franc.

To admit you, Sir, this night into her Chamber.

Mar.

Death to my soul! what's this?

[Aside.

Sil.

Her chamber! is that all? will that allay this fever In my blood?—No, no, Francisca. 'Tis grown too high for amorous parleys only; Her arms, her charming bosom, and her bed, Must now receive me or I dye, Francisca.

Franc.

I mean no other, Sir; why can you think A Maid in love as much as you can be, Assisted with the silence of the night; (Which vail her blushes too) can say—I dare not? Or if she do, she'l speak it faintly o'er, And even whilst she so denys will yield. Go, go prepare your self for this encounter, And do not dally as you did to day, And fright your pleasure with the name of sister—

Mar.

Oh cursed witch!

[Aside.

Franc.

What say you, Sir?

Sil.

That name has check'd my joy— And makes it strangely silent and imperfect.

[Walks away.

Franc.

Why do you go, before you answer me?

[Follows him into the garden.

Mar.

I'l follow him, and kill them.

[Comes out with a Dagger.

Oh who would be allyed unto a woman, Natur's loose handy-work? the slight imploys Of all her wanton hours—Oh I could rave now— Abandon sence and nature. Hence all considerate thoughts, and in their room, Supply my soul with vengeance, that may prove Too great to be allay'd by nature, or by love.

[Goes into the Garden after th••••.

Enter again Silvio melancholy follow'd by Francisca.

Franc.

But will you loose this opportunity, Her lodgings too being so near your own?

Sil.

Hell take her for her wickedness. Oh that ten thousand mountains stood between us, And seas as vast and raging as her lust, That we might never meet—Oh perfect woman, I find there is no safety in thy sex: No trusting to thy innocence. That being counterfeit, thy beauty's gone, Dropt like a Rose o'er blown, And left thee nothing but a wither'd root, That never more can bloom.

Franc.

Alas, I fear I have done ill in this.

[Aside.

Sil.

I now should hate her; but there yet remains Something within, so strangely kind to her; That I'm resolv'd to give her one proof more, Of what I have vow'd her often, yes I'l kill her—

Franc.

How kill her, Sir? Gods, what have I done!

[Aside.

Sil.

Yes, can I let her live, and say I lov'd her? No, she shall tempt no more vain yielding men▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Franc.

Consider, Sir, it is to save your life she does it.

Sil.

My life! 'Twere better she and I were buryed

[Enter Marcel from amongst the trees softly with his Dagger behind Silvio.]

Quick in one grave, than she should fall to this, She has out-sinn'd even me in this consent.

Mar.

Oh here they are.—

Franc.

My Lord defend your self, you are undone else.

Sil.

Hah, Marcel!—

[Draws.

Franc.

Help, help.

Mar.

Hell take thy throat.

Enter Ambrosio, Clarinda, Cleonte, and the rest of the house.

Amb.

Hold villain, hold! How darest thou thus rebel—ungrateful wretch?

Mar.

This cause, Sir, is so just, that when you hear it, You'l curse me, that I let him live thus long: He loves my sister, Sir; and that lew'd woman Repays his lustful flame; and does this evening Invite him to her bed;—Oh let me kill him.

[Offers to go to him.

Amb.

That he should love Cleonte I'l allow, And her returns too, whilst they're innocent.

Mar.

But, Sir, he does not love her as a Sister.

Amb.

If that be all his crime, I still forgive him.

Sil.

Yes, Sir, 'tis true I do adore my Sister, But am so far from that foul thing he nam'd, That could I think I had a secret thought That tended that way, I would search it—thus—

[Goes to stab himself.

Cleo.

What me an you by this desperation?

Sil.

Oh take away this woman from my sight,

[Pointing to Cleonte.

For she will finish what this has ill begun.

[Holds his Dagger up.

Franc.

Thus low, Sir, for your mercy I must kneel;

[Kneels.

Which yet I must despair of when you know How very very wicked I have been.

[Weeps.

Cleonte, Sir, is chaste as Angels are.

Sil.

My Sister innocent! how soon I do believe thee!

Franc.

Yes, Sir, nor knows of that vile message which I brought you.

Sil.

What Divel set thee on to tempt me then?

Franc.

The worst of Divels, hopeless, raging love; And you, my Lord, were the unhappy object.

Mar.

Oh sinful woman, what was thy design?

Cleo.

What means all this?

[Aside.

Franc.

At least to have injoy'd him once; which done, Thinking it had been the fair Cleonte, It would have made him hate her.

Sil.

Should all thy other sins be unrepented, The piety of this confession saves thee. Pardon, Cleonte, my rude thoughts of thee,

[Kneels, she takes him up.

I had design'd to've kill'd thee— Had not this knowledge of thy innocence Arriv'd before I'd seen thee next. And, Sir, your pardon too I humbly beg;

[To Ambrosio.

With license to depart, I cannot live Where I must only see my beauteous sister; That torment is too great to be supported, That still must last, and never hope a cure.

Amb.

Since you are so resolv'd, I will unfold A secret to you, that perhaps may please you.

Sil.

Low at your feet I do implore it, Sir.

[Kneels.

Amb.

Your quality forbids this ceremony.

[Takes him up.

Sil.

How, Sir!

Amb.

Your Father was the mighty favourite, the Conte De Olivaris; your Mother, Spains celebrated Beauty, Donna Margarita Spiniola, by whom your Father had two natural Sons, Don Lovis de Harro, and your self Don Roderigo. The story of his disgrace you know with all the world; 'twas then he being banisht from the Court, he left you to my care then very young. I receiv'd you as my own, and as more than such educated you, and as your Father oblig'd me to do, brought you always up about their Majesties—For he hoped if you had beauty and merits, you might inherit part of that glory he lost.

Mar.

This is wondrous—

Amb.

This truth you had not known ••o soon, had you not made as great an interest at Court as any man so young ever did: and if I had not acquitted my self in all points as be∣came the friend of so great and brave a man, as Conte de Oli∣varis, the Fortune he left you was two millions of Crowns.

Sil.

Let me imbrace your feet for this blest news. Is not the fair Cleonte then my sister?

Amb.

No, Sir, but one whom long since I design'd your wife, if you are pleas'd to think her worthy of it.

[Offers her.

Sil.

Without her, Sir, I do despise my being: And do receive her as a blessing, sent from heaven to make my whole life happy.

Amb.

What ••ay you, Cleonte?

Cleo.

Sir, I must own a joy greater than is fit for a Virgin to express.

Mar.

Generous Don Roderigo, receive me as your friend, and pardon all the fault you found in me as a brother.

[Imbraces him.

Sil.

Be ever dear unto my soul, Marcel.

Mar.

Now is the time to present Hippolyta and Antonio to my Father, whilst his humour is so good. And you, dear Brother, I must beg to joyn with us in so just a cause.

Sil.

You need not doubt my power, and less my will.

Mar.

Do you prepare him then, whilst I bring them in: For by this I know my Confessor has made them one.

[Exit Marcel.

Sil.

Sir, I've a sute to you.

Amb.

You cannot ask what I can deny.

Sil.

Hippolyta, Sir, is married to Antonio, And humbly begs your pardon for her past fault.

Amb.

Antonio and Hippolyta! oh name them not.

Enter Antonio and Hippolyta, a Fryar and Marcel.

Mar.

Pray, Sir, forgive them, your honour being safe, Since Don Antonio has by marrying her▪ ••epair'd the injury he did us all, Without which I had kill'd him.

Amb.

Thou art by nature more severe than I, And if thou think'st our honour satisfi'd, I will endeavour to forget their fa••lts.

Ant.

We humbly thank you▪ Sir, and beg your blessing: At least bestow it on Hippolyt••; For she was ever chaste, and innocent, And acted only what became her duty; Since by a sacred vow she was my Wife.

Amb.

How ca••'st thou then to treat her so inhumanely▪

Ant.

In pure revenge to Don Marcel her Brother: And forc'd my nature to a stubbornness, Which whilst I did put on, I blush'd to own; And still between thoughts so unjust, and action, Her vertue would ri••e up and check my soul, Which still secur'd her fame.

Hip.

And I have seen in midst of all thy anger Thou'st turn'd away and chang'd thy words to sighs; Dropt now and then a tear as if asham'd Not of thy injuries, but my little merit.

Amb.

How weak and easie nature makes me—Rise I must forgive you both. Come, Sir, I know you long to be secur'd Of what you say you love so much, Cleonte—

Franc.

But, Madam, have you fully pardon'd me?

Sil.

We will all joyn in your behalf, Francisca.

Cleo.

I can forgive you, when you can repent.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

[House of Carlo.

Enter Olinda.

Olin.

BUt is the Bride-chamber drest up, and the bed made as it ought to be?

Dorm.

As for the making, 'tis as it use to be, only the Vel∣vet Furniture.

Olin.

As it use to be? oh ignorance! I see these young wenches are not arriv'd yet to bare imagination: Well, I must order it my self, I see that.

Dor.

Why Olinda, I hope they will not go just to bed upon their marrying without some signs of a wedding, as Fidles and Dancing, and so forth.

Olin.

Good Lord, what joys you have found out for the first night of a young Bride and Bridegroom. Fidles and Dancing, ha, ha, ha! they'l be much merryer by themselves that Fidles and Dancing can make them, you fool.

Enter Haunce and Gload.

Bless me! what is't I see?

[Stares on Haunce.

Hau.

Why? what the Divel means she? Look about me Gload, and see what I have that's so terrible.

Olin.

Oh, I have no power to stir, it is a sprite.

Hau.

What does she mean now Gload?

Glo.

She desires to be satisfi'd whether we be flesh and blood, Sir, I believe.

Hau.

Dost see nothing that's divel-wise about me?

Glo.

No indeed, Sir, not I.

Hau.

Why then the wench is tippled, that's all, a small ••••ult.

Olin.

In the name of goodness, Sir, what are you?

Glo.

I, I, Sir, 'tis that she desires to know.

Olin.

Who are you, Sir?

Hau.

Why who should I be but he that's to be your Master anon?

Glo.

Yes, who should he be but Myn heer Haunce Van Ezel?

Olin.

What, did you come in at the door?

Hau.

Yes marry did I, what do you think I creep in like a ••apland witch through the key holes?

Dorm.

Nay, nay, this cannot be the Bridegroom.

Olin.

No, for 'tis but a moment since we left him, you know in my Ladies Chamber.

Hau.

Very drunk by this good light.

Dorm.

And therefore it cannot be My••••heer Haunce.

Hau.

What a Divel will you perswade me out of my Chri∣stian name?

Olin.

The Priest has yet scarce done his office, who is mar∣rying him above to my Lady.

Hau.

Salerimente, here's brave doing, to marry me, and never give me notice; or thou art damnable drunk, or very mad.

Glo▪

Yes, and I am married to you too, am I not?

[To Olinda.

Olin.

You? we know neither of you.

Hau.

Ha, ha ha, here's a turn for you.

Enter Carlo.

Car.

Why, Olinda, Dorice, Olinda, where be these mad Girls? 'tis almost night, and nothing in order. Why what now? Who's here?

Hau.

So the old man's possest too—Why what a Divel ails you, Sir?

[Goes roughly to him.

Car.

From whence come you, Sir? and what are you?

Hau.

Gload, let's be gone, for we shall be transmigra••ed into some strange shapes anon, for all the house is inchanted. Who am I, quoth ye? before I came you all knew me; and now you are very well acquainted with me, you have for∣got me.

Car.

If you be my son Haunce, how▪ came you here?

Hau.

If I be your son Haunce? where should I be else?

Car.

Above with your Wife, not below amongst the Maids.

Hau.

What wife? what wife? ha, ha, ha, do not pro∣voke me, lest I take you a slap in the face, I tell you that now.

Car.

Oh I find by his humour this is he, and I am finely cheated and abus'd. I'l up and know the truth.

[Goes out.

Hau.

And so will I.

[Follows.

Glo.

Why, but Mistress Olinda, you have not indeed forgot me, have you?

Olin.

For my lover I have, but perhaps I may call you to mind as my servant hereafter.

Glo.

Since you'r so proud and so fickle, you shall stand here∣after as a Cipher with me: and I'l begin upon a new account with this pretty Maid, what say you forsooth?

Dorm.

I am willing enough to get a husband as young as I am.

Glo.

Why, that's well said, give your hand upon the bar∣gain —God ha' mercy with all my heart i'fais.

[Go in.

Scene Draws off, discovers a chamber. Enter A∣lonzo, Euphemia and Lovis: To them Carlo, Haunce, and the rest.

Car.

Oh I am cheated, undone, abus'd.

Lov.

How, Sir, and where?

Haunce sees Alonzo drest like him, goes gazing about him, and on himself, calling ••load to do the same.

Car.

Nay, I know not how, or where; but so I am; and when I find it, I'l turn you all out of doors. Who are you, Sir? quickly tell me.

Alon.

If you be in such haste, take the shortest account▪ I am your son.

Car.

I mean, Sir, what's your name, and which of you is Haunce van Ezel?

Hau.

I, which of us is Haunce van Ezel, tell us that, Sir; we shall handle ye, i' faith, now—

Alon.

He, Sir, can best inform you.

[Pointing to Haunce.

Hau.

Who, I! I know no more than the great Turk, not I, which of us is me; my hat, my feather; my sute, and my Garniture all over faith now; and I believe this is me, for I'l trust my eyes before any other sense about me. What sayst thou now Gload? guess which of us is thy own natural Master now if thou canst.

Glo.

Which, Sir?—why—let me see—let me see,

[Turns them both about.

••akes I cannot tell, Sir.

Car.

Come, come, the cheat is plain, and I'l not be fob'd off, therefore tell me who you are, Sir.

[To Alonzo.

Alon.

One that was very unwilling to have put this trick

upon you, if I could have perswaded Euphemia to have been kind on any other terms, but nothing would down with her but Matrimony.

Car.

How long have you known her?

Alon.

Faith, Sir, too long by at least an hour.

Car.

I say again what are you, Sir?

Alon.

A man I am, and they call me Alonzo.

Car.

How! I hope not the great fighting Colonel, whom my son serv'd as a Voluntier in Fland••rs.

Alon.

Even he, Sir.

Car.

Worse and worse, I shall grow mad, to think that in spight of all my care, Euphemia should marry with so noto∣rious a man of war.

Hau.

How! is this Alonzo, and am I cozen'd? pray tell me truly, are you not me indeed?

Alon.

All over, Sir, only the inside a little less fool.

Hau.

So here's fine jugling—are not you a rare Lady, hah?—

[To Euphemia•• Crys.

Euph.

I assure you, Sir, if this man had not past for you, I had never had him.

Hau.

Had him! O you are a flattering thing, I durst ha' sworn you could no more ha' been without me, than a Barbers▪ Shop without a Fiddle, so I did: Oh what a damnable voy∣age have I back again without a wife too.—

[Crys again.

Lov.

If that be all, we'l get you one before you go: that shall be my care.

Hau.

A pox of your care; well, I will get my self most soundly drunk to night, to be reveng'd of these two damna∣ble Dons. Come Gload, let us about something in order to't.

[Exit.

Euph.

Pray, Sir, be perswaded, he's worth your owning.

Car.

Tell not me of ••wning: what fortune has he?

Lov.

His Horse and Arms, the favour of his Prince and his pay.

Car.

His Horse and Arms I wholly dislike as impliments of war, and that same Princely favour, as you call it, will buy no Lands, and his Pay he shall have when he can get it.

Lov.

But, Sir, his coming to Madrid was to take possessi∣on of a place the Prince has promis'd him.

Car.

Has promis'd him? what! I shall marry my Daughter to the promises of ere a Prince in Christendom, shall I? No, no; promises, quoth ye?

Alon.

Well, Sir, will this satisfie you?

[Gives him a parchment▪

Euph.

If it should not, let us consider what next to do.

Alon.

No consideration Euphemia; not so much as that we are married, lest it lesse•• our joys.

Car.

12000 Crowns a year!—Sir, I cry you mercy, and wish you joy with my Daughter▪

Lov.

So his courage will down with him now.

Alon.

To satisfie you farther, Sir, read this.

[Gives him another paper.

And now Euphemia prepare your self to receive some gallant friends of mine, whom you must be acquainted with, and who design to make a merry night on't.

Euph.

A whole night Alonzo?

Alon.

By no means Euphemia, for the first too, which if the thoughts of its being part of my duty do not hinder, will be pleasant enough to me.

Car.

So considerable an office at Court too!—Let me imbrace you, Sir; and tell you how happy I am in so brave a Son-in-law.

Alon.

With that assurance, Sir, I'l take a more than ordi∣nary freedom with you, and teach Euphemia a franker way of living, than what a native Spaniard would have allow'd her.

Car.

She shall be what sort of wife you'l have her.

Enter Servant: A••ter a noise of Musick.

Alon.

What Musi••k's that?

Serv.

It waits upon some Ladies and Gentlemen who ask for you, Sir.

Alon.

Wait them in, they are those f••iends of mine I told you off.

[He goes and brings them in.

Enter Marcel and Clarinda, Silvio and Cleonte, Antonio and Hippolyta, Dormida and Francisca, all salute Euphemia. E••ter Haunce, and Gload in Masquer••de, to the com∣pany Olinda and Dorice masked.

Hau.

Well, the Divel's in't if we shall not appear ridiculous enough, hah Gload?

Glo.

I, Sir, the more ridiculous the better.

Hau.

I was always of that mind.—Ha, hay Boys, who be all these Dons and Donna's?—Harkye Lovis, I hope the Wife you promis'd me is amongst these fair Ladies, for so I guess they are both, fair and Ladies.

Lov.

You guess right, Sir.

Alon.

Now Ladies and Gentlewomen command your Mu∣sick, and do what likes you best.

Lov.

Here's the Lady I recommend to you, take her, Sir, be thankful.

[Gives him Olinda.

Olin.

This is the fool that I am to manage.

Dor.

And this my lott.

[Takes Gload.

[Musick plays, they all dance.

Lov.

There is within a young Father ready to joyn your hands: take this opportunity, and make sure of a Wife.

Hau.

I warrant you, Sir.

[Exeunt Haunce, Olinda, Gload and Dorice. Enter Pedro.

Ped.

Your Mother, Sir, whom I found more dead than living for the loss of your Sister, was very near dying out∣right with joy to hear of your arrival, and most impatiently expects you.

Dor.

And are we all forgiven Pedro?

Ped.

Yes, you and I are like to be fellow Servants together again, Dormida.

Dor.

And fellow Lovers too I hope, Pedro.

Ped.

The Divel's in't if age have not allai'd flames of all sorts in thee: but if you contribute to my allowance—

Dor.

Thou knowst I could never keep any thing from thee Pedro.

Alon.

Come Ladies, there is a small Banquet attends you in the next room.

Silv.

We'l wait on you, Sir.

Enter Haunce, Gload, Olinda and Dorice.

Hau.

Hold, hold, and give me joy too, for I am Married, if she has not mistaken her man again and I my woman.

Olin.

No, you are the man I look for, and I no cheat, having all about me that you look for too, but Money.

[Discovers her self.

Alon.

How Olinda!

Olin.

Yes indeed, Sir, I serv'd my Lady first, and then thought it no offence to take the reward due to that service.

Hau.

Here's a Spanish trick for you now, to marry a Wife before one sees her.

Euph.

What Dorice Married too?

Dor.

After your example, Madam.

Glo.

Yes indeed, forsooth, and I have made bold too af∣ter the example of my Master.

Hau.

Now do they all expect I should be dissatisfied; but, Gentlemen, in sign and token that I am not, I'l have one more merry frisk before we part, 'tis a witty wench; faith and troth after a month 'tis all one whose who; therefore come on Gload.

[They dance▪ together.

Alon.

Monsieur Haunce, I see you are a man of Gallantry. Come let us in, I know every man here desires to make this night his own, and sacrifice it to pleasure.

The Ladies too in blushes do confess Equal desires; which yet they'l not confess Their's, though less fierce, more constant will abide; But ours less currant grow the more they're try'd.