Don Fel. Why I'm in a mighty witty way upon this whimsical occasion; but I see him coming. You must not appear yet; go your way in to the rest of the people there, and I'll inform him what a squabble he has worked himself into here.

[Exeunt CAMILLO and ISABELLA.

Re-enter DoN LORENZO and Lopez,

Lop. Pray, sir, don't be so obstinate now, don't affront Heaven at this rate. I had a vision last night about this business on purpose to forewarn you; I dreamt of goose-eggs, a blunt knife, and the snuff of a candle; I'm sure there's mischief towards.

Don Lor. You cowardly rascal, hold your tongue.

Don Fel. Lorenzo, come hither, my boy, I was just going to send for thee. The honour of our ancient family lies in thy hands; there is a combat preparing, thou must fight, my son.

Lop. Look you there now, did not I tell you? Oh, dreams are wondrous things! I never knew that snuff of a candle fail yet.

Don Lor. Sir, I do not doubt but Carlos seeks my life, I hope he'll do it fairly.

Lop. Fairly, do you hear, fairly! give me leave to tell you, sir, folks are not fit to be trusted with lives that don't know how to look better after 'em. -Sir, you gave it him, I hope you'll make him take a little more care on't.

Don Fel. My care shall be to make him do as a man of honour ought to do.

Lop. What, will you let him fight then? let your own flesh and blood fight?

Don Fel. In a good cause, as this is. Lop. O monstrum horrendum! Now I have that humanity about me, that if a man but talks to me of fighting, I shiver at the name on't.

Don Lor. What you do on this occasion, sir, is worthy of you and had I been wanting to you, in my due regards before, this noble action would have stamped that impression, which a grateful son ought to have for so generous a father.

Lop. [Aside.] Very generous truly gives him leave to be run through the guts, for his posterity to brag on a hundred years hence.

Don Lor. I think, sir, as things now stand, it won't be right for me to wait for Carlos's call; I'll if you please prevent him.

Lop. Ay, pray sir, do prevent him by all means; 'tis better made up, as you say, a thousand times.

Don Fel. Hold your tongue, you impertinent jack-a-napes! I will have him fight, and fight like a fury too; if he don't he'll be worsted, I can tell him that. For know, son, your antagonist is not the person you name, it is an enemy of twice his force.

Lop. O dear! O dear! O dear! and will nobody keep 'em asunder?

Don Lor. Nobody shall keep us asunder, if once I know the man I have to deal with.

Don Fel. Thy man then is-Camillo.

Don Lor. Camillo !

Don Fel. "Tis he; he'll suffer nobody to decide

this quarrel but himself.

Lop. Then there are no seconds, sir?

Don Fel. None.

Lop. He's a brave man.

Don Fel. No, he says nobody's blood shall be

spilled on this occasion, but theirs who have a title to it.

Lop. I believe he'll scarce have a lawsuit upon the claim.

Don Fel. In short, he accuses thee of a shameful falsehood, in pretending his sister Leonora was thy wife; and has upon it prevailed with his father, as thou hast done with thine, to let the debate be ended by the sword 'twixt him and thee.

Lop. And pray, sir, with submission, one short question if you please; what may the gentle Leonora say of this business?

Don Fel. She approves of the combat, and marries Carlos.

Lop. Why, God a-mercy!

Don Lor. Is it possible? sure she's a devil, not

a woman.

Lop. Ecod, sir, a devil and a woman both, I think.

Don Fel. Well, thou sha't have satisfaction of some of 'em.-Here they all come.

Enter DoN ALVAREZ, DON CARLOS, LEONORA, JACINTA, and SANCHO.

Don Alv. Well, Don Felix, have you prepared your son? for mine, he's ready to engage.

Don Lor. And so is his. My wrongs prepare me for a thousand combats. My hand has hitherto been held by the regard I've had to everything of kin to Leonora ; but since the monstrous part she acts has driven her from my heart, I call for reparation from her family.

Don Alv. You'll have it, sir; Camillo will attend you instantly.

Lop. O lack! O lack! will nobody do a little something to prevent bloodshed?-[ To LEONORA.] Why, madam, have you no pity, no bowels? Stand and see one of your husbands stotered before your face? 'Tis an arrant shame.

Leo. If widowhood be my fate, I must bear it as I can.

Lop. Why, did you ever hear the like?

Don Lor. Talk to her no more. Her monstrous impudence is no otherwise to be replied to than by a dagger in her brother's heart.

Leo. Yonder he's coming to receive it. But have a care, brave sir, he does not place it in another's.

Don Lor. It is not in his power. He has a rotten cause upon his sword, I'm sorry he is engaged in't; but since he is he must take his fate.-[To DON CARLOS.] For you, my bravo, expect me in your

turn.

Don Car. You'll find Camillo, sir, will set your hand out.

Don Lor. A beardless boy! You might have matched me better, sir; but prudence is a virtue.

Don Fel. Nay, son, I would not have thee despise thy adversary neither; thou'lt find Camillo will put thee hardly to't.

Don Lor. I wish we were come to the trial. Why does he not appear?

Jac. Now do I hate to hear people brag thus. Sir, with my lady's leave, I'll hold a ducat he disarms you. [They laugh. Don Lor. Why, what!-I think I'm sported with. Take heed, I warn you all; I am not to be trifled with.

Re-enter CAMILLO and ISABELLA. Leo. You shan't, sir; here's one will be in earnest with you.

Don Lor. He's welcome: though I had rather have drawn my sword against another.-I'm sorry, Camillo, we should meet on such bad terms as these; yet more sorry your sister should be the wicked cause on't: but since nothing will serve her but the blood either of a husband or brother, she shall be glutted with't. Draw!

Lop. Ah Lard! ah Lard! ah Lard!

Don Lor. And yet, before I take this instrument of death into my fatal hand, hear me, Camillo; hear, Alvarez; all!

I imprecate the utmost powers of Heaven
To shower upon my head the deadliest of its wrath;
I ask that all hell's torments may unite

To round my soul with one eternal anguish,
If wicked Leonora ben't my wife.

All. O Lord! O Lord! O Lord!

Léo. Why then, may all those curses pass him by, And wrap me in their everlasting pains, If ever once I had a fleeting thought Of making him my husband.

Lop. O Lord! O Lord! O Lord!

Leo. Nay more; to strike him dumb at once, and show what men with honest looks can practise, know he's married to another.

Don Alv. & Don Fel. How!

Leo. The truth of this is known to some here.
Jac. Nay, 'tis certainly so.
Isab. 'Tis to a friend of mine.
Don Car. I know the person.

Don Lor. 'Tis false and thou art a villain for thy testimony.

Cam. Then let me speak; what they aver is true, and I myself was, in disguise, a witness of its doing.

Don Lor. Death and confusion! he a villain too! -Have at thy heart. [He draws.

Lop. Ah!-I can't bear the sight on't. Cam. Put up that furious thing, there's no business for't.

Don Lor. There's business for a dagger, stripling; 'tis that should be thy recompense.

Cam. Why then to show thee naked to the world, and close thy mouth for ever-I am myself thy wife

Don Lor. What does the dog mean? Cam. To fall upon the earth and sue for mercy. [Kneels and lets her periwig fall off.

Don Lor. A woman!Lop. Ecod, and a pretty one too; you wags you! Don Lor. I'm all amazement !-Rise, Camillo, (if I am still to call you by that name,) and let me hear the wonders you have for me.

Isab. That part her modesty will ask from

me.

I'm to inform you then, that this, disguise
Hides other mysteries besides a woman;
A large and fair estate-was cover'd by't,
Which with the lady now will be resign'd you.
'Tis true, in justice it was yours before;
But 'tis the god of love has done you right.
To him you owe this strange discovery;
Through him you are to know the true Camillo's
dead, and that this fair adventurer is daughter to
Alvarez.

Don Lor. Incredible! But go on; let me hear

Don Fel. She'll tell thee the rest herself the next dark night she meets thee in the garden. Don Lor. Ha!-Was it Camillo then, that IIsab. It was Camillo who there made you happy: and who has virtue, beauty, wit, and love enough to make you so while life shall last you.

Don Lor. The proof she gives me of her love deserves a large acknowledgment indeed. Forgive me, therefore, Leonora, if what I owe this goodness and these charms, I with my utmost care, my life, my soul, endeavour to repay.

Cam. Is it then possible you can forgive me? Don Lor. Indeed I can; few crimes have such a claim

To mercy.
But join with me then, dear Camillo,
(For still I know you by no other name,)
Join with me to obtain your father's pardon.
Yours, Leonora, too, I must implore;
And yours, my friend, for now we may be such.
[TO CARLOS

Of all I ask forgiveness; and since there is
So fair a cause of all my wild mistakes,

I hope I by her interest shall obtain it.
Don Alv. You have a claim to mine, Lorenzo,
I wish I had so strong a one to yours; but if by
future services, (though I lay down my life amongst
'em) I may blot out of your remembrance a fault
(I cannot name), I then shall leave the world in
peace.

Don Lor. In peace then, sir, enjoy it; for from this very hour, whate'er is past with me is gone for ever. Your daughter is too fair a mediatrix to be refused his pardon, to whom she owes the charms she pleads with for it.

From this good day, then let all discord cease; Let those to come be harmony and peace; Henceforth let all our different interests join, Let fathers, lovers, friends, let all combine, To make each other's days as bless'd as she will mine. [Exeunt omnes.

I'm thinking, now good husbands are so few,
To get one like my friend, what I must do.
Camillo ventured hard; yet at the worst,
She stole love's honeymoon, and tried her lover
first.

Many poor damsels, if they dared to tell,

Have done as much, but have not 'scaped so well.
'Tis well the scene's in Spain; thus in the dark,
I should be loath to trust a London spark.
Some accident might, for a private reason,
Silence a female, all this acting season.
Hard fate of woman! Any one would vex,
To think what odds you men have of our sex.
Restraint and customs share our inclination,
You men can try, and run o'er half the nation.
We dare not, even to avoid reproach,
When you're at White's, peep out of hackney-
coach;

Nor with a friend at night, our fame regarding,
With glass drawn up, drive about Covent-garden.

If poor town-ladies steal in here, you rail,
Though like chaste nuns, their modest looks they
With this decorum they can hardly gain [veil;
To be thought virtuous, even in Drury-lane,
Though this you'll not allow, yet sure you may
A plot to snap you, in an honest way.

In love-affairs, one scarce would spare a brother:
All cheat; and married folks may keep a pother,
But look as if they cheated one another.
You may pretend, our sex dissembles most,
But of your truth none have much cause to boast:
You promise bravely; but for all your storming,
We find you're not so valiant at performing.
Then sure Camillo's conduct you'll approve :
Would you not do as much for one you love?
Wedlock's but a blind bargain at the best,
You venture more, sometimes, to be not half so

.blest.

All, soon or late, that dangerous venture make And some of you may make a worse mistake.

SCENE I.-A Room in Monsieur BARNARD'S Country-House.

Enter ERASTUS and his Servant, LISETTA following. Lis. Once more I tell ye, sir, if you have any consideration in the world for her, you must begone this minute.

Erast. My dear Lisetta, let me but speak to her, let me but see her only.

Lis. You may do what you will; but not here, whilst you are in our house. I do believe she's as impatient to see you as you can be to see her ; but

Erast. But why won't you give us that satisfaction then?

Lis. Because I know the consequence; for when you once get together, the devil himself is not able to part ye; you will stay so long till you are surprised, and what will become of us then?

Serv. Why, then we shall be thrown out at the window, I suppose.

Lis. No, but I shall be turned out of doors. Erast. How unfortunate am I! these doors are open to all the world, and only shut to me.

Lis. Because you come for a wife, and at our house we do not care for people that come for wives.

Serv. What would you have us come for, child? Lis. Anything but wives; because they cannot be put off without portions.

Serv. Portions! No, no, never talk of portions; my master nor I neither don't want porticas; and

if he'd follow my advice, a regiment of fathers should not guard her.

Lis. What say you?

Serv. Why, if you'll contrive that my master may run away with your mistress, I don't much care, faith, if I run away with you.

Lis. Don't you so, rogue's face! But I hope to be better provided for.

Erast. Hold your tongues.-But where is Mariamne's brother? He is my bosom friend, and would be willing to serve me.

Lis. I told you before that he has been abroad a-hunting, and we han't seen him these three days; he seldom lies at home, to avoid his father's ill humour; so that it is not your mistress only that our old covetous cuff teases :- there's nobody in the family but feels the effects of his ill humour: -by his good will he would not suffer a creature to come within his doors, or eat at his table ;-and if there be but a rabbit extraordinary for dinner, he thinks himself ruined for ever.

Erast. Then I find you pass your time comfortably in this family.

Lis. Not so bad as you imagine neither, perhaps; for, thank Heaven, we have a mistress that's as bountiful as he is stingy, one that will let him say what he will, and yet does what she will. But hark, here's somebody coming; it is certainly he. Erast. Can't you hide us somewhere?

Lis. Here, here, get you in here as fast as you

can.

Serv. Thrust me in too. [Puts them into the closet

Lis. Come, lovers, I can allow you but a short bout on't this time; you must do your work with a jirk-one whisper, two sighs, and a kiss; make haste, I say, and I'll stand sentry for ye in the meantime. [Exit.

Mar. Do you know what you expose me to, Erastus? What do you mean?

Erast. To die, madam, since you receive me with so little pleasure.

Mar. Consider what would become of me, if my father should see you here.

Erast. What would you have me do? Mar. Expect with patience some happy turn of affairs. My mother-in-law is kind and indulgent to a miracle; and her favour, if well managed, may turn to our advantage; and could I prevail upon myself to declare my passion to her, I don't doubt but she'd join in our interest.

Erast. Well, since we've nothing to fear from her, and your brother, you know, is my intimate friend, you may therefore conceal me somewhere about the house for a few days. I'll creep into any hole.

Serv. Ay, but who must have the care of bringing us victuals? [Aside.

Erast. Thrust us into the cellar, or up into the garret I don't care where it is, so that it be but under the same roof with you.

Serv. But I don't say so, for that jade Lisetta will have the feeding of us, and I know what kind of diet she keeps.-I believe we shan't be like the fox in the fable, our bellies won't be so full but we shall be able to creep out at the same hole we got in at. [Aside. Erast. Must I then begone? must I return to Paris?

Mon. Barn. For that reason, sirrah, you should not have let 'em in.

Col. Hold, sir, I'd rather see you angry than her, that's true; for when you're angry you have only the devil in ye, but when madam's in a passion she has the devil and his dam both in her belly.

Mon. Barn. You must mind what I say to you, sirrah, and obey my orders.

Col. Ay, ay, measter-but let's not quarrel with one another you're always in such a plaguy

humour.

Mon Barn. What are these people that are just

come?

Col. Nay, that know not I-but as fine volk they are as ever eye beheld, Heaven bless 'em! Mon. Barn. Did you hear their names?

Col. Noa, noa, but in a coach they keam all besmeared with gould, with six breave horses, the like on 'em ne'er did I set eyes on.-Twould do a man's heart good to look on sike fine beast, measter Mon. Barn. How many persons are there? Col. Vour-two as fine men as ever woman bore, and two as dainty deames as a man would desire to lay his lips to.

Mon. Barn. And all this crew sets up at my house.

Col. Noa, noa, measter, the coachman is gone into the village to set up his coach at some inn, for I told him our coach-house was vull of vaggots, but he'll bring back the six horses, for I told him we had a rare good steable.

Mon. Barn. Did you so, rascal? did you so? [Beate him. Col. Doant, doant, sir, it would do you good to see sike cattle, i'faith they look as if they had ne'er kept Lent.

Mon. Barn. Then they shall learn religion at my house. Sirrah, do you take care they sup without oats to-night.-What will become of me! Since

I have bought this damned country-house, I spend more in a summer than would maintain me seven year.

Col. Why, if you do spend money, han't you good things for it? Come they not to see you the whole country raund? Mind how you're beloved,

measter.

Mon. Barn. Pox take such love!

Re-enter LISETTA.

How now, what do you want?

Lis. Sir, there's some company in the garden with my mistress, who desire to see you.

Mon. Barn. The devil take 'em, what business have they here? But who are they?

Lis. Why, sir, there's the fat abbot that always sits so long at dinner, and drinks his two bottles by way of whet.

Mon. Barn. I wish his church was in his belly, that his guts might be half full before he came.And who else?

Lis, Then there's the young marquis that won all my lady's money at cards.

Mon. Barn. Pox take him too!