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me at home to lay the cloth. No; thou art | ed, from unquestionable hands, that Don Carlos my ancient friend, my fellow-traveller; and to re- is enraged against you to a dangerous degree ; ward thy faithful services, this night thou shalt and that old Alvarez has given positive direcpartake my danger and my glory. — Sir, I have tions to break the legs and arms of your servant got glory enough under you already, to content | Lopez. any reasonable servant for his life. -Thy mo- Lop. Look you there now; I thought what desty makes me willing to double my bounty: l’twould come to. What do they meddle with me this night may bring eternal honour to thee and for? What have I to do in my master's amours ? thy family.—-Eternal honour, sir, is too much, The old Don's got out of his senses, I think : in conscience, for a serving-man; besides, ambi- Have I married his daughter? tion has been many a great souls undoing. Lor. Fear nothing; we'll take care o' theeI doubt thou art afraid, my Lopez: thou shalt be Sir, I thank you for the favour of your intelligence; armed with back, with breast, and head-piece. 'tis nothing, however, but what I expected, and am
- They will encumber me in my retreat. provided for. Retreat, my hero! thou never shalt retreat. Tol. Sir, I would advise you to provide yourself Then, by my troth, I'll never go, sir.- But with good friends: I desire the honour to keep here he comes.
your back hand myself. Enter LORENZO.
Lop. 'Tis very kind indeed. Pray, sir, have
you never a servant with you could hold a racket Lor. Will it never be night? Sure, 'tis the long-| for me too? est day the sun e'er travelled.
Tol. I have two friends, fit to head two armies; Lup. Would 'twere as long as those in Green and yet—a word in your ear—they sha'n't cost land, sir, that yon might spin out your life t'other you above a ducat a-piece. half year. I don't like these nightly projects; a Lop. Take 'em by all means, sir; you were man cann't see what he does: we shall have never offered a better pennyworth in your life. some scurvy mistake or other happen; a brace of Tol. Ah, sir-little Diego
-you have heard bullets blunder through your head in the dark, of him; he'd have been worth a legion upon this perhaps, and spoil all your intrigue.
occasion: You know, I suppose, how they have Lor. Away, you trembling wretch, away. served him—_They have hanged him, but he
Lop. Nay, sir, what I say is purely for your made a noble execution ; they clapped the rack safety ; for as to myself
-uds-death! I no more and the priest to him at once, but could neither value the losing a quart of blood, than I do drink- get a word of confession nor a groan of repenting a quart of wine. Besides, my veins are too ance: he died mighty well, truly. full; my physician advised me but yesterday to let Lor. Such a man is indeed much to be regretgo twenty ounces for my health. So you see, sir, ted: As for the rest of your escort, captain, I there's nothing of that in the case.
for 'em, but shall not use 'em. Lor. Then let me hear no other objections ; Tol. I'm sorry for’t, sir, because I think you for till I see Leonora I must lie upon the rack: 1 go in very great danger : l'm much afraid your ricannot bear her resentment, and will pacify her val won't give you fair play. this night, or not live to see to-morrow.
Lop. If he does, I'll be hanged: he's a damned Lop. Well
, sir, since you are so determined, I passionate fellow, and cares not what mischief he sha'n't be impertinent with any farther advice; does. but I think you have laid your design to- -He Lor. I shall give him a very good opportunity; coughs)-(I have got such a cold to-day)—to get for I'll have no other guards about me but you, in privately, have you not?
sir. So come along. Lor. Yes, and bave taken care to be introdu- Lop. Why, sir, this is the sin of presumption; ced As far as her chamber-door with all secrecy. setting Heaven at defiance; making a jack-pud
Lop. (He coughs.] This unlucky cough; I had ding of a blunderbuss. rather have had a fever at another time. Sir, Lor. No more, but follow. Hold; turn this I should be sorry to do you more harm than good way; I see Camillo there. I would avoid bim, till vpon this occasion: If this cough should come I see what part he takes in this odd affair of his upon me in the midst of the action, (Coughs, and sister's ; for I would not have the quarrel fixed give the alarm to the family, I should not forgive with him, if it be possible to avoid it. myself as long as I lived.
(Exit LORENZO Lor. I have greater ventures than that to take Lop. Sir—Captain Toledo, one word, if you my chance for, and cann’t dispense with your at- please, sir. I'm mighty sorry to see my master tendance, sir.
won't accept of your friendly offer. Look ye, I'm Lop. This ’tis to be a good servant, and make not very rich; but as far as the expence of a dolone's self necessary.
lar went, if you'd be so kind to take a little care Enter TOLEDO.
of me, it should be at your service.
Tol. Let me see :-a dollar you say? But sup Tol. Sir, I am glad I have found you. Il pose I'm wounded? am a man of honour, you know, and do always Lop. Why, you shall be put to no extraordinary profess losing my life upon a handsome occasion : charge upon that : I have been 'prentice to a barbir, I come to offer you my service. I am inform- 'ber, and will be your surgeon myself.
Tol. 'Tis too cheap in conscience; but my land- | tinue so. They have agreed to be a little merry estate is so ill paid this war-time
with the heat he is in, and engage you in a fainilyLop. That a little industry may be commenda- quarrel with him. ble; so say no more ; that matter's fixed.
Cum. I doubt, Isabella, I shall act that part but (Exeunt LOP. and Tol. faintly.
Isa. No matter; you'll make amends for it in Enter CAMILLO.
the scene of reconciliation. Cam. How miserable a perplexity have I brought Cam. Pray Heaven it be my lot to act it with myself into! Yet why do I complain ? since, with him. all the dreadful torture I endure, I cann't repent Isa. Here comes Don Felix to wish you joy. of one wild step I've made. O love! what tempests canst thou raise, what storms canst thou as
Enter Don Felix. suage ! To all thy cruelties I am resigned. Long Fel. Come near, my daughter, and with exyears through seas of torment I'm content to roll, tended arms of great affection let me receive thee. so thou wilt guide me to the happy port of my (Kisses her.] Thou art a dainty wench, good faith Lorenzo's arms, and bless me there with one calm thou art, and 'tis a mettled action thou hast done: day at last.
if Lorenzo don't like thee the better for't, cods
my life, he's a pitiful fellow, and I sha'n't believe Enter IsabelLA.
the bonny old man had the getting of him. What news, dear Isabella? Methinks there's Cam. I'm so encouraged by your forgiveness, something cheerful in your looks, may give a sir, methinks I have some flattering hopes of his. trembling lover hopes. If you have comfort for Fel. Of his ! 'Egad, and he had best; I believe me, speak, for I indeed have need of it.
he'll meet with his match if he don't. What dost Isa. Were your wants yet still greater than think of trying his courage a little, by way of a joke they are, I bring a plentiful supply. Cam. O Heavens! Is't possible?
Isa. I was just telling her your design, sir. Isu. New mysteries are out, and if you can find Fel. Why, I'm in a mighty witty way upon this charms to wean Lorenzo from your sister, no other whimsical occasion; but I see him coming. You obstacle is in your way to all your wish.
must not appear yet : go your way, in to the rest C'lm. Kind messenger from Heaven, speak on. of the people there, and I'll inform him what a Iscr. Know, then, that you are daughter to Al squabble he has worked himself into here.
[Ereunt CAMILLO and ISABELLA. Cam. How! Daughter to Alvarez? Isa. You are: The truth this moment's come
Enter LORENZO and LOPEZ. to light; and till this moment he, although your Lop. Pray, sir, don't be so obstinate now; don't father, was a stranger to it, nay, did not even affront Heaven at this rate. I had a vision last know you were a woman. In short, the great es- night about this business, on purpose to forewarn tate, which bas occasioned these uncommon ac- you: I dreamt of goose-eggs, a blunt knife, and cidents, was left but on condition of a son; great the snuff of a candle: I'm sure there's mischief hopes of one there was, when you destroyed’em, towards and to your parents came a most unwelcome Lor. You cowardly rascal, hold your tongue. guest: To repair the disappointment, you were ex- Fel. Lorenzo, come hither, my boy; I was just changed for that young Camillo, who few months going to send for thee. The honour of our anafter died. Your father then was absent, but cient family lies in thy hands; there is a combat your mother, quick in contrivance, bold in execu- preparing; thou' must figlit, my son. tion, during that infant's sickness, had resolved Lop. Look you there now ; did not I tell you ? his death should not deprive her family of those 0! dreams are wondrous things: I never knew advantages his life had given it; so ordered things that snuff of a candle fail yet. with such dexterity, that once again there past a Lor. Sir, I do not doubt but Carlos seeks my change between you: Of this (for reasons yet un. life; I hope he'll do it fairly. known to me) she made a secret to her husband, Lop. Fairly! Do you hear, fairly! Give me leave and took such wise precautions, that till this hour to tell you, sir, folks are not fit to be trusted with 'twas so to all the world!, except the person from lives, that don't know how to look better after whom I now have heard it.
them. Sir, you gave it him ; I hope you'll make Cum. This news indeed affords a view of no un- him take a little more care on't. happy ternization; yet there are difficulties still Fel. My care shall be to make him do as a man may be of fatal bindrance.
of honour ought to do. Isa. None, except that one I just now named Lop. What, will you let him fight then? Let to you; for, to remove the last, know I have al- your own flesh and blood fight? ready unfolded all, both to Alvarez and Don Fe- Fel. In a good cause, as this is. lix.
Lop. O, monstrum horrendum! Now I have Cam. And how have they received it? that hwanity about me, that if a man but talks
Isa. To your wishes both. As for Lorenzo, he to me of fighting, I shiver at the name on’t. is yet a stranger to all has past, and the two old Lor. What you do on this occasion, sir, is fathers desire lie may some moments longer con. I worthy of you i And had I been wanting to you m my due regards before, this noble action would something to prevent bloodshed? Why, madam, have stamped that impression which a grateful have you no pity, no bowels ? [TO LEO.] Stand son ought to have for so generous a father. and see one of your husbands butchered before
Lop. Very generous, truly ! Gives him leave to your face? 'Tis an arrant shame. be run through the guts, for his posterity to brag Leo. If widowliood be my fate, I must bear it on a hundred years hence.
(Aside. as I can. Lor. I think, sir, as things now stand, it won't Lop. Why, did you ever hear the like! be right for me to wait for Carlos's call; I'll, if you Lor. Talk to her no more: her monstrous please, prevent him.
impudence is no otherwise to be replied to, than Lop. Ay, pray, sir, do prevent him by all by a dagger in her brother's heart. mcans ; 'tis better made up, as you say, a thou- Leo. Yonder he's coming to receive it. But sand times.
have a care, brave sir, he does not place it in anoFel. Hold your tongue, you impertinent jack- ther's. anapes : I will have hiin fight, and fight like a fu- Lor. It is not in his power; he has a rotten ry too; if he don't, he'll be worsted, I can tell cause upon his sword: I'm sorry he's engaged in him that: For know, son, your antagonist is not it; but since he is, he must take his fate. For the person you name; it is an enemy of twice his you, my bravo, expect me in your turn. force.
[To CARLOS. Lop. O dear, O dear, O dear! and will nobo. Cur. You'll find Camillo, sir, will set your dy keep 'em asunder?
hand out. Lor. Nobody shall keep us asunder, if once I Lor. A beardless boy. You might have matchknow the man I have to deal with,
ed me better, sir; but prudence is a virtue. Fel. Thy man then ism-Camillo.
Fel. Nay, son, I would not have thee despise Lor. Camillo !
thy adversary neither; thou'lt find Camillo will Fel. 'Tis he; he'll suffer nobody to decide this put thee hardly to it. quarrel but hinself.
Lor. I wish we were come to the trial. Why Lop. Then there are no seconds, sir? does he not appear? Fél. None.
Juc. Now do I hate to hear people brag thus. Lop. He's a brave man.
Sir, with my lady's leave, I'll hold a ducat he disFel. No, he says nobody's bloo shall be spilt arms you.
(They laugh. npon this occasion, but theirs who have a title Lor. Why, what ! I think I'm sported with. to it.
Take heed; I warn you all; I am not to be trifled Lop. I believe he'll scarce have a law-suit up with. on the claim. Fel. In short, he accuses thee of a shameful
Enter CAMILLO and IsabelLA. falsehood, in pretending his sister Leonora was thy Leo. You sha’n’t, sir; here's one will be in earwife; and has upon it prevailed with his father, nest with you. as thou hast done with thine, to let the debate Lor. He's welcome, though I had rather have be ended by the sword 'twixt him and thee. drawn my sword against another. I'm sorry,
Lop. And pray, sir, with submission, one short Camillo, we should meet on such bad ternis as question, if you please: What may the gentle Le- these ; yet more sorry your sister should be the onora say of this business?
wicked cause on't; but since nothing will serve Fel. She approves of the combat, and marries her but the blood either of a husband or brother, Carlos.
she shall be glutted with it. Draw. Lop. Why, God a-mercy!
Lop. Ah Lard, ah Lard, ah Lard ! Lor. Is it possible? Sure she's a devil, and not Lor. And yet before I take this instrument of
death into my fatal hand, hear me, Camillo ; hear Lop. Ay=-cod, sir, the devil and a woman Alvarez; all! I imprecate the utmost powers of both, I think
Heaven to shower upon my head the deadliest of Fel. Well, thou shalt have satisfaction of some its wrath; I ask that all hell's torments may unite of 'em : Here they all come.
to round my soul with one eternal anguish, if
wicked Leonora ben't my wife. Enter ALVAREZ, LEONORA, Carlos, SANCHO,
Omnes. O Lord, O Lord, O Lord ! and JACINTA.
Leo. Why then, may all those curses pass him Alv. Well, Don Felix, have you prepared your by, and wrap me in their everlasting pains, if ever son? for mine, he's ready to engage.
once I had a fleeting thought of making him my Lor. And so is his. My wrongs prepare me
husband. for a thousand combats. My hand has hitherto Lop. O Lord, O Lord, O Lord ! been held by the regard I've had to every thing Leo. Nay, more; to strike hiin dumb at once, of kin to Leonora; but since the monstrous part and shew what men with honest looks can pracshe acts has driven her from my heart, I call tise, know, he's married to another. for reparation from her family.
Alo, and Fel. How ! Ald. You'll have it, sir : Camillo will attend Leo. The truth of this is known to some here. you instantly.
Jac. Nay, 'tis certainly so. Lop. O lack! O lack ! will nobody do a little Isa. 'Tis to a friend of mine.
Car. I know the person.
Lor. Ha! -Was it Camillo then, that I Lor. 'Tis false, and thou art a villain for thy Isa. It was Camillo who there made you haptestimony.
py; and who has virtue, beauty, wit, and love Cam. Then let me speak. What they aver is enough to make you so, while life shall last true, and I myself was, in disguise, a witness of you. its doing
Lor. The proof she gives me of her love deLor. Death and confusion! He a villain too! serves a large acknowledgment indeed. Forgive Have at thy heart.
[He draws. me, therefore, Leonora, if what I owe this goodLop. Ah! I cann't bear the sight on't. ness and these charms, I, with my utmost care,
Cam. Put up that furious thing ; there's no bu- my life, my soul, endeavour to repay. siness fort.
Cam. Is it then possible you can forgive me? Lor. There's business for a dagger, stripling ; Lor. Indeed I can: few crimes have such a 'tis that should be thy recompence.
claim to mercy; but join with me then, dear CamilCam. Why then, to shew thee naked to the lo, (for still I know you by no other name ;) join world, and close thy mouth for ever-I am with me to obtain your father's pardon: Yours, myself thy wife.
Leonora, too, I must implore; and yours, my Lor. What does the dog mean?
friend, for now we may be such. (To CARLOS.] Cam. To fall upon the earth and sue for mer- Of all I ask forgiveness. And since there is so cy. [Kneels, and lets her periwig fall off. fair a cause of all my wild mistakes, I hope I, by Lor. A woman!
her interest, shall obtain it. Lop. Ay-cod, and a pretty one too, you Alv. You have a claim to mine, Lorenzo; I wags you.
wish I had so strong a one to yours; but if by fuLor. I'm all amazement. Rise, Camillo, (if I ture services (though I lay down my life amongst am still to call you by that name,) and let me 'em) I may blot out of your remembrance a fault, hear the wonders you have for me.
(I cannot name,) I then shall leave the world in Isa. That part her modesty will ask from me. peace. I'm to inform you then, that this disguise hides Lor. In peace then, sir, enjoy it; for from this other mysteries besides a woman : a large and very hour, whate'er is past with me, is gone for fair estate was covered by it, which, with the la- ever. Your daughter is too fair a mediatrix to dy, now will be resigned to you. 'Tis true, in be refused his pardon, to whom she owes the justice it was yours before; but 'tis the god of charms she pleads with for it. love has done you right. To him you owe this strange discovery; through him you are to know From this good day, then, let all discord cease; the true Camillo's dead, and that this fair adven- Let those to come be harmony and peace : turer is daughter to Alvarez.
Henceforth let all our diff'rent interests join ; Lor. Incredible! but go on; let me hear more. Let fathers, lovers, friends, let all combine
Fel. She'll tell thee the rest herself, the next To make each other's days as blest as she will dark nigbt she meets thee in the garden.
WRITTEN BY MR MOTTEUX.
I'm thinking, now good husbands are so few, Restraint and custom share our inclination;
first. Many poor damsels, if they dar'd to tell, Nor with a friend at night, our fame regarding, Have done as much, but have not 'scaped so well. With glass drawn up, drive 'bout Covent-Garden. 'Tis well the scene's in Spain : thus, in the dark, If poor town-ladies steal in here, you rail, I should be loath to trust a London spark. Though like chaste nuns their modest looks they Some accident might, for a private reason, Silencc a female all this acting season.
With this decorum, they can hardly gain Hard fate of woman! Any one wou'd vex To be thought virtuous, e'en in Drury-Lane. To think what odds you men bave of our sex.
Though this you'll not allow, yet sure you may Then sure Camillo's conduct you'll approve: A plot to snap you, in an honest way.
Wou'd you not do as much for one you love? In love affairs one scarce would spare a brother : Wedlock’s but a blind bargain at the best, All cheat; and married folks may keep a pother, You venture more sometimes, to be not half so But look as if they cheated one another.
blest. You may pretend our sex dissembles most, All, soon or late, that dangerous venture make, But of your truth none have much cause to boast : And some of you may make a worse mistake. You promise bravely, but, for all your storming, We find you're not so valiant at performing.