Tol. Sir, I would advise you to provide yourself with good friends, I desire the honour to keep your back hand myself.

Lop. 'Tis very kind indeed.

Pray, sir, have you ne'er a servant with you could hold a racket for me too?

Tol. I have two friends fit to head two armies; and yet a word in your ear, they shan't cost you above a ducat a piece.

Lop. Take 'em by all means, sir, you were never offered a better pennyworth in your life.

Tel. Ah, sir !—little Diego-you have heard of him; he'd have been worth a legion upon this occasion. You know, I suppose, how they have served him.—They have hanged him, but he made a noble execution; they clapped the rack and the priest to him at once, but could neither get a word of confession nor a groan of repentance; he died mighty well truly.

Don Lor. Such a man is indeed much to be regretted as for the rest of your escort, captain, I thank you for 'em, but shall not use 'em.

Tol. I'm sorry for't, sir, because I think you go very great danger; I'm much afraid your rival won't give you fair play.

Lop. If he does I'll be hanged! he's a damned passionate fellow, and cares not what mischief he does.

Don Lor. I shall give him a very good opportunity; for I'll have no other guards about me but you, sir. So come along.

Lop. Why, sir, this is the sin of presumption; setting heaven at defiance, making jack-pudding of a blunderbuss.

Don Lor. No more, but follow.-Hold! turn this way; I see Camillo there. I would avoid him, till I see what part he takes in this odd affair of his sister's. For I would not have the quarrel fixed with him, if it be possible to avoid it. [Exit. Lop. Sir!-Captain Toledo ! one word if you please, sir. I'm mighty sorry to see my master won't accept of your friendly offer. Look ye, I'm not very rich; but as far as the expense of a dollar went, if you'd be so kind to take a little care of me, it should be at your service.

Tol. Let me see;—a dollar you say? but suppose I'm wounded?

Lop. Why you shall be put to no extraordinary charge upon that: I have been prentice to a barber, and will be your surgeon myself.

Tol. 'Tis too cheap in conscience; but my landestate is so ill paid this war time

Lop. That a little industry may be commendable; so say no more, that matter's fixed. [Exeunt.

Enter CAMILLO.

Cam. How miserable a perplexity have I brought myself into! Yet why do I complain? since, With all the dreadful torture I endure, I can't repent of one wild step I've made. O love! what tempests canst thou raise, what Canst thou assuage! [storms

To all thy cruelties I am resign'd. Long years
Through seas of torment I'm content to roll,
So thou wilt guide me to the happy port
Of my Lorenzo's arms,

And bless me there with one calm day at last.

Enter ISABELLA.

What news, dear Isabella? Methinks there's something cheerful in your looks may give a trem

bling lover hopes. If you have comfort for me, speak, for I indeed have need of it.

Isab. Were your wants yet still greater than they are, I bring a plentiful supply.

Cam. O Heavens! is't possible!

Isab. New mysteries are out, and if you can find charms to wean Lorenzo from your sister, no other obstacle is in your way to all you wish.

Cam. Kind messenger from Heaven, speak on. Isab. Know then, that you are daughter to Alvarez.

Cam. How! daughter to Alvarez !

Isab. You are: the truth this moment's come to light; and till this moment he, although your father, was a stranger to it; nay, did not even know you were a woman. In short, the great estate, which has occasioned these uncommon accidents, was left but on condition of a son; great hopes of one there was, when you destroyed 'em, and to your parents came a most unwelcome guest. To repair the disappointment, you were exchanged for that young Camillo, who few months after died. Your father then was absent, but your mother quick in contrivance, bold in execution, during that infant's sickness, had resolved his death should not deprive her family of those advantages his life had given it; so ordered things with such dexterity, that once again there passed a change between you. Of this (for reasons yet unknown to me) she made a secret to her husband, and took such wise precautions, that till this hour 'twas so to all the world, except the person from whom I now have heard it.

Cam. This news indeed affords a view of no unhappy termination; yet there are difficulties still may be of fatal hindrance.

Isab. None, except that one I just now named to you; for to remove the rest, know I have already unfolded all both to Alvarez and Don Felix.

Cam. And how have they received it?

Isab. To your wishes both. As for Lorenzo, he is yet a stranger to all has passed, and the two old fathers desire he may some moments longer continue so. They have agreed to be a little merry with the heats he is in, and engage you in a familyquarrel with him.

Cam. I doubt, Isabella, I shall act that part but faintly.

Isab. No matter, you'll make amends for it in the scene of reconciliation.

Cam. Pray Heaven it be my lot to act it with

him.

Isab. Here comes Don Felix to wish you joy.

Enter DON FELIX,

extended arms of great affection let me receive thee. Don Fel. Come near, my daughter, and with -[Kisses her.] Thou art a dainty wench, good faith thou art, and 'tis a mettled action thou hast done; if Lorenzo don't like thee the better for't, cods my life, he's a pitiful fellow, and I shan't believe the bonny old man had the getting of him.

Cam. I'm so encouraged by your forgiveness, sir, methinks I have some flattering hopes of his.

Don Fel. Of his! egad and he had best; I believe he'll meet with his match if he don't. What dost think of trying his courage a little, by way of a joke or so?

Isab. I was just telling her your design, sir.

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 !

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 s'a'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 hitberta 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 repa ration 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. B have a care, brave sir, he does not place it 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.-[Te Des CARLOS.] For you, my bravo, expect me in you

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 the despise thy adversary neither; thou'lt find Cami will put thee hardly to't.

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

Jac. Now do I hate to hear people brag the Sir, with my lady's leave, I'll hold a ducat disarms you. [They h

Don Lor. Why, what!-I think I'm sperte 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!

imprecate the utmost powers of Heaven

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

fo round my soul with one eternal anguish, f wicked Leonora ben't my wife.

All. O Lord! O Lord! O Lord!

Leo. Why then, may all those curses pass him by, nd wrap me in their everlasting pains, fever 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, ad show what men with honest looks can practise, Bow 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 y testimony.

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

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 siness for't.

Don Lor. There's business for a dagger, stripg; 'tis that should be thy recompense. Cam. Why then to show thee naked to the rld, and close thy mouth for ever-I am myself y 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, "I am still to call you by that name,) and let me ar 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

more.

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.

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 hackneycoach;

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 nsideration in the world for her, you must begone is minute.

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

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

Erast. But why won't you give us that satisfac

athen?

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

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

Lis. No, but I shall be turned out of doors. Erast. How unfortunate am I! these doors are en to all the world, and only shut to me. Lis. Because you come for a wife, and at our use we do not care for people that come for

ves.

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

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