The generous choice a comedy / written by Mr. Manning.

SCENE the Street.

Don Philip's man Anthony in the Stocks.

1 Ant.

Poor Anthony! This Punishment is certainly a Judgment up∣on thee for serving so debauch'd a Master. Well, Don Philip,

you have been met with too: If you are slain by those Ruffians I left you engaged with, why then my Cowardice has got the advantage of your Courage. If you have escap'd them, I hope the danger will be a warming for you to reform your Life. O my Legs, my Legs! Now am I just for all the World as if I were Married. Ha! who comes here?

Don Bernardo passing that way.

Ber.

'Tis yet too early to go home for one of my wakeful Consti∣tution. I'll e'en saunter about, and if nothing happens worthy my humble attention here below, I'll erect my face, and please my self with the observation of the growing day: Nor is't an unprofitable Amusement to view the separation of Light and Darkness, to see day and night struggle for Empire. For by this reflection may one learn the nature of humane passions, that at first make wild conten∣tion with our Reason, which rising by degrees like the Lights force, disperses all their gloom, and brings forth Day to the Understanding.

1 Ant.

This must be some Philosopher, or Star-gazer.

Ber.

Ha! One so near me. Who are you, speak?

1 Ant.

No Dancing-master—for I want Legs.

Ber.

Sure 'tis Anthony's voice.

Approaches him.

Why, how now, Anthony, how came you here, and in this humility?

1 Ant.

Sir, if you'll vouchsafe to let me know how you came so well acquainted with me, I'll soon answer you.

Ber.

What, is your Preferment so great, that you have forgot me? I could hardly have expected to have found the Quality of a Great Man in the Stocks.

1 Ant.

You are a very pleasant Gentleman. But, Sir, 'tis an un∣seasonable time for mirth; and take this from me, I never saw you in my Life before.

Ber.

Sure he's distracted. Pray, who are you, Friend?

1 Ant.

I am a Native of that Country that you scorn, tho' it has made you tremble. I have the honour to be a Subject of the Grand Monarque, who, in time of War, knew how to turn a Skirmish into a great Fight; the reduction of a Village into that of an invincible Castle, and the loss of a Battle into an absolute Victory, and sung Te Deum for them all.

All this in a big voice.

Ber.

A very Politick Person! And where do you live, my notable States-man?

1 Ant.

In the Stocks.

Ber.

Good. But where, before you were thus exalted?

1 Ant.

I serv'd a Spaniard.

Ber.

All this agrees mighty well. Pray, what's his name?

1 Ant.

Personne. Il u'en a point.

Ber.

Now his fit returns; poor fellow.

1 Ant.

Was it not enough I told you that I serv'd a Spaniard. By all my wrongs 'twas too much; 'twas adding to the disgrace I am un∣der. Those of our Country should Command, not Serve; at least not serve a thing so stupid as a Spaniard: One that prefers a lazy Luxury before an active Frugality, and would not lose a formal Ceremony, or part with an Inch of his Grandeur to save his Country from Ruin.

Ber.

This is notorious Truth, tho it come from the mouth of a Madman. Farewel, Anthony. I'll send you relief in the morning.

Exit.

1 Ant.

You'l do more than I expect then.

Who should this Man be? I never saw him in my Life before, and yet he will needs be acquainted with me. Well, if he should send to re∣lease me, according to his promise, I shall be oblig'd to him, that's certain. So I were out of this noose, I should not care if I were to be converted into a Spaniard, or an Englishman, tho they are as much ex∣treams as Fire and Water: For as one by his Violence always shoots beyond the Mark, so the other by his Laziness ever falls short of his Distance.

Scene shuts him in.

Enter Don Bernardo.

Ber.

Ha! I don't like these Fellows. still as I go on, they follow me. I turn'd down this Street on purpose to avoid them, and yet they are here. I'll make what hast I can homewards, or try to lose them by the way.

Eenter three Ruffians.

1 R.

It must be Don Philip by the glittering of his Sword-hilt. I took particular notice of that before.

2. R.

So did I. Sure it must be set with Diamonds.

1. R.

So much the better still, Boys, 'tis lucky we have found him again. Come, we may dispatch him yet.

2. R.

Away, away. We lose time.

Exeunt after him.

Re-enter Don Bernardo.

Ber.

Nay, if you follow me still, I may well suspect your design. So, I am met with for my Curiosity. But hold, sure I am come round again to Eleonora's. By my surprize I am. I'll strive to get in here before they come up to me. St. Eleonora, Dorila, Hem.

Eleonora in her Nightgown at the Window.

El.

softly,

Who calls Eleonora at this early hour?

Ber.

'Tis I, Bernardo. For Heavens sake, dear Creature, let me in this moment, for I am pursu'd by Ruffians. Use no delay or ob∣jection, for if you do I am a Dead Man.

El.

Pho, this is one of the Artifices of you young Fellows, to se∣duce a tender Maid. You must excuse me, Seignor. Besides, if I had an inclination, my Aunt is yet stirring, and it concerns my Ho∣nour, and Well-being with her not to admit you.

Ber.

Come you are design'd to preserve me, for let me go which way I will to night, still I meet with your House. 'Twill be now the second time my shelter this night from imminent Danger.

El.

Indeed, Sir! you talk strangely. My doors are never open'd at late hours to any one.

Ber.

'Sdeath, Madam, what do you mean? the Ring, the Ring.

El.

What of a Ring? I don't know your sign, Sir, 'Tis plain you are mistaken in the House, therefore Adieu.

She retires.

Ber.

Mistaken in the House, that's impossible. Neither can I be in that deluding Voice. Is it not cruel to trifle with me thus at such a time? Alas! she's gone indeed. Discourteous Eleonora! Well, if they do assault me, I must e'en defend my self as well as I can.

1. Ruf.

There he is like a Rat caught in a Trap. He can retire no further.

2. Ruf.

But hold, hold. Let us be sure 'tis he before we send him to Lucifer's Dominions. I would not kill a wrong man neither.

1. Ruf.

What d'ee talk of a wrong man? don't you see how his Sword glitters? it must be he by that.

2. Ruf.

Ay, but if I thought he were not the right-man I would not be concern'd.

1. Ruf.

Why 'tis he, what a pox d'ee ail? I'll swear it upon any Mass-book in Spain. What do you flinch now? you have forgot the Reward sure.

2. Ruf.

The reward, let me see. Mass, and so I had. A hundred Crowns, Mass, 'tis enough to slay an Emperor. Come, he dies.

1. Ruf.

Come on then, let us move towards him.

2. Ruf.

Ay, ay, it must be he: 'Tis the very Sword he had before.

They come up to him.

Ber.

What's your design, Friends, in following me thus?

1. Ruf.

Nay, you are mistaken, we are none of your friends, and for our design, that you may guess at by your own Villanys.

Ber.

Villanys? you amaze me. I am a Stranger here, and have done wrong to none.

2. Ruf.

We'll soon try if we are mistaken. Know we are reso∣lute, and will trifle no longer.

Ber.

Nay, if you are so bent to murder me, I'll sell my Life as dear as I can.

They fight.

The noise of Swords brings Don Frederick that way.

Fred.

Ha! three against one, Cowardly Villains! 'tis Bernardo, as I live.

He joyns with Bernardo.

Courage, my Friend.

Ber.

You were never more wellcome.

2. Ant.

Peeps in.)

Nay, if you are there abouts, I'll wait here for the Issue of the Engagement.

The Ruffians are beat back.

Ber

Dogs, Villains.

1 Ant.

Comes in and pursues.

Blood-sucking Sons of Whores.

The 2. Ruffian falls, the other two run away.

Fred.

So, here's one of them rewarded.

2. Ruf.

O spare my Life, and I'll confess all.

Ber.

Ha! not dead: then we may learn this Mystery.

2. Ruf.

O Seignor, is not your name Don Philip de Monasco?

Ber.

No, you are deceiv'd.

2. Ruf.

Truly, Sir, I was in some doubt of it before, but my Companions said they knew you by the glittering of your Sword.

Ber.

Ha! Don Philip, by the glittering of my Sword! but sup∣pose it had been Philip, how were you induced to commit violence upon him.

2. Ruf.

We were hired to it by one Donna Eleonora that lives hard by.

Ber.

My barbarous Mistress, as I live!

Well, what was it for, come, out with all, or the Watch shall have you.

Ruf.

She only told us he had wrong'd her so heinously, that it was not to be forgiven, and we were to have a hundred Crowns for our Reward.

Ber.

Well, you may go. But, do you hear, if you are wise, This mercy that I shew to you, will be a means to make you change your Life.

Ruf.

Seignor, you have so work't upon me with your generosity, that I here make a solemn protestation to become another Man.

Ber.

'Twill be the better for you.

Exit Ruffian bowing:

Come to my Arms, my much lov'd Frederick. You have preserv'd me. who is that with you, Anthony?

2. Ant.

What, my service was taken no notice of. I am sure you had not been alive but for me. My Arm akes plaguely with hacking and hewing your enemies.

Fred.

Yes, you make vast havock always, when you are half a mile from the Battel.

2. Ant.

I have ever your good word. O my Arm!

Ber.

Don't your Leggs ake too, Anthony?

2. Ant.

Nay my Leggs are maul'd too, that's the truth on't, by thrusting in among you.

Ber.

But I mean by the Fetters I found you in but now.

2. Ant.

Fetters, Sir!

Ber.

How the Devil came he in the Stocks to night, Frederick?

Fred.

In the Stocks, you amaze me.

2. Ant.

I in the Stocks! sure the Danger you have been in has distracted you, Sir.

Ber.

Sure you are both in a Conspiracy to banter me.

Fred.

Can you be serious, Bernardo? prethee no more of this.

Ber.

Nay, by St. Jago I saw him there, fix'd to the Stocks like any Vagabond within this half hour.

Fred.

Meer Banter. We are but newly come from the Lodging to seek you.

Ber.

Why then I have seen the Devil to night, that's all. 'Twas one so like him in Voice, Person, and Raillery after his way, that I am amaz'd to hear you thus deny 'twas He.

Fred.

Sure the Devil doth walk to night, for since I came out I have met with much such another accident, which you shall hear a∣non. But prethee what else has thy curiosity discover'd?

Ber.

This night has been lavish of her Adventures, I'll assure you, For besides this Mystery of Anthony, I have rescu'd a man from Villains, who, I have reason to believe was Don Philip de Mo∣nasco, and he has appointed to meet me this morning near the Great Church. Some other things I have met with too, but they are secrets.

Fred.

Well, Sir, I have a secret for your secret. This night has indeed been lavish of her Adventures.

Ber.

Keep it close, Don Frederick.

Fred.

That you may depend on.

Nothing can Wrest it from me, but the obligation of being trusted with yours first.

Ber.

O Devil, are you thereabouts? but this insinuation will n'er prevail to extort a secret, that I am injoyn'd to keep particularly from thee.

Fred.

Ha! that I must own, whetts my curiosity. Prithee, Don Bernardo, come, you shall have a secret for your secret. In good faith, I have one in my keeping.

Ber.

That you are impatient to get rid of, I thank you, Sir. no, no, hold there. I can be trusted with a secret even among the Women. I have not the vanity of most young Fellows of the Town, who think the Pleasure of Telling the principal part of their Hap∣piness with Ladys.

Fred.

Then 'tis with a Lady, it seems.

Ber.

Nay that doth not directly follow: But, faith, to be inge∣nuous with you, there is a Lady in the Case.

Fred.

Then there are two Ladys in the case, Boy. And One of such a matchless form, so Graceful, so surprizing Fair, so infinitely Charming, that as she can have no equal upon Earth, so she is above all Human Description.

Ber.

Ha! Where is this Goddess to be seen? wilt thou not tell me, Frederick? shan't your dear friend have a sight of her?

Fred.

Oh, I knew I should be even with you. A Sight of her! You must excuse me, Sir. Goddesses are invisible to Mortal Eyes.

Ber.

Well, I see when once a Man has indulg'd the Humour of ban∣tering, 'tis as hard for him to leave it, as 'tis for a Poet to cease Writing, when he has once begun.

Fred.

Or as 'tis for you to avoid wishing to go to Bed to every De∣scription of a fine Woman that you hear.

Ber.

Well, you have surpriz'd me. But prithee, put me in Mind, as we Walk, and I'll disclose something to you that was a Secret, but is no longer worthy to be so.

Fred.

I knew he could not hold.

Come on then, let us Walk.

Ber.

First give me leave, Frederick, for my Satisfaction, to order your Man Anthony to place himself near those Lodgings, to bring me Word if any Man comes out, when it grows Lighter.

Fred.

Heyday, what's to do now!

Ber.

You shall know as we Walk.

Fred.

This is some Jealousy about a Wench, I'll lay my Life.

Ber.

She's a handsome one at least then, and you know Venus is predominant over me.

Fred.

Yes, yes. 'Tis a Superstition much in fashion with young Fellows. You will be wiser, Don Bernardo.

Ber.

You shall know presently that I have begun at least already, by throwing off this Woman, near whose Lodgings your Man is to watch. And the Wise say, That a Good Beginning is half a Cure. But come, let us walk homewards. Anthony, be sure you place your self somewhere about that Door, that you may discover who comes out this Morning, and bring an exact account home to us.

2. Ant.

I shall do my best, Sir, to satisfy you.

Ber.

Now, let us walk.

Fred.

Come on, my trusty Adventurer.

Exeunt.