me at home to lay the cloth.No; thou art | Enter LORENZO. -But Lor. Will it never be night? Sure, 'tis the longest day the sun e'er travelled. Lop. Would 'twere as long as those in Greenland, sir, that you might spin out your life t'other half year. I don't like these nightly projects; a man cann't see what he does: we shall have some scurvy mistake or other happen; a brace of bullets blunder through your head in the dark, perhaps, and spoil all your intrigue. ed, from unquestionable hands, that Don Carlos is enraged against you to a dangerous degree; and that old Alvarez has given positive directions to break the legs and arms of your servant Lopez. Lop. Look you there now; I thought what 'twould come to. What do they meddle with me for? What have I to do in my master's amours? The old Don's got out of his senses, I think : Have I married his daughter? Lor. Fear nothing; we'll take care o' theeSir, I thank you for the favour of your intelligence; 'tis nothing, however, but what l'expected, and am provided for. 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 never 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 sha'n'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. Tol. 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 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 full; my physician advised me but yesterday to let go twenty ounces for my health. So you see, sir, there's nothing of that in the case. Lor. Then let me hear no other objections; for till I see Leonora I must lie upon the rack: 1 cannot bear her resentment, and will pacify her this night, or not live to see to-morrow. Lop. Well, sir, since you are so determined, I sha'n't be impertinent with any farther advice; but I think you have laid your design to―[He coughs]-(I have got such a cold to-day)—to get in privately, have you not? Lor. Yes, and have taken care to be introduced as far as her chamber-door with all secrecy. Lop. [He coughs.] This unlucky cough; I had rather have had a fever at another time. Sir, I should be sorry to do you more harm than good upon this occasion: If this cough should come upon me in the midst of the action, [Coughs,] and give the alarm to the family, I should not forgive myself as long as I lived. Lor. I have greater ventures than that to take my chance for, and cann't dispense with your attendance, sir. Lop. This 'tis to be a good servant, and make one's self necessary. Enter TOLEDO. I ance: he died mighty well, truly. Lor. Such a man is indeed much to be regretted: As for the rest of your escort, captain, [ thank you for 'em, but shall not use 'em. Tol. I'm sorry for't, sir, because I think you go in 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. 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 a jack-pudding of a blunderbuss. 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 LORENZO. 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 expence of a dol lar 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? Tol. Sir, I am glad I have found you. 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 barSir, 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 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 LOP. and TOL. 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 cann't repent of one wild step I've made. O love! what tempests canst thou raise, what storms canst thou assuage! To all thy cruelties I am resigned. 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 trembling lover hopes. If you have comfort for me, speak, for I indeed have need of it. Isa. Were your wants yet still greater than they are, I bring a plentiful supply. Cam. O Heavens! Is't possible? Isa. New mysteries are out, and if you can find charms to wean Lorenzo from your sister, no other ebstacle is in your way to all your wish. Cam. Kind messenger from Heaven, speak on. varez. Cam. How! Daughter to Alvarez? Isa. 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 past 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. Cum. This news indeed affords a view of no unhappy termination; yet there are difficulties still may be of fatal hindrance. Isa. None, except that one I just now named to you; for, to remove the last, know I have already unfolded all, both to Alvarez and Don Felix. Cam. And how have they received it? Fel. Come near, my daughter, and with extended arms of great affection let me receive thee. [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 sha'n'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. 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? Isa. I was just telling her your design, sir. 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. Enter 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 Lor. You cowardly rascal, hold your tongue. 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? O! dreams are wondrous things: I never knew that snuff of a candle fail yet. 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 them. Sir, you gave it him; I hope you'll make him take a little more care on't. Fei. 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? 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. Isa. To your wishes both. As for Lorenzo, he is yet a stranger to all has past, and the two old Lor. What you do on this occasion, sir, is fathers desire he may some moments longer con-worthy of you: And had I been wanting to you in 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 on a hundred years hence. [Aside. 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. Fel. Hold your tongue, you impertinent jackanapes: 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? Lor. Nobody shall keep us asunder, if once I know the man I have to deal with. Fel. Thy man then is--Camillo. Lor. Camillo ! Leo. If widowhood be my fate, I must bear it as I can. Lop. Why, did you ever hear the like! 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. Lor. It is not in his power; he has a rotten cause upon his sword: I'm sorry he's engaged in it; but since he is, he must take his fate. For you, my bravo, expect me in your turn. [TO CARLOS. Car. You'll find Camillo, sir, will set your hand out. Lor. A beardless boy. You might have matched me better, sir; but prudence is a virtue. Fel. Nay, son, I would not have thee despise 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 himself. Lop. Then there are no seconds, sir? Fel. None. Lop. He's a brave man. Fel. No, he says nobody's blood shall be spilt upon this occasion, but theirs who have a title to it. Lop. I believe he'll scarce have a law-suit upon the claim. 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? Fel. She approves of the combat, and marries Carlos. Lop. Why, God a-mercy! Lor. Is it possible? Sure she's a devil, and not a woman. Lop. Ay――cod, sir, the devil and a woman both, I think. Fel. Well, thou shalt have satisfaction of some of 'em: Here they all come. Enter ALVAREZ, LEONORA, CARLOS, SANCHO, and JACINTA. Alt. Well, Don Felix, have you prepared your son? for mine, he's ready to engage. 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 every thing of kin to Leonora; but since the monstrous part she acts has driven her from my heart, I call for reparation from her family. Alv. You'll have it, sir: Camillo will attend you instantly. Lop. O lack! O lack! will nobody do a little Lor. I wish we were come to the trial. Why does he not appear? Juc. Now do I hate to hear people brag thus. Sir, with my lady's leave, I'll hold a ducat he dis arms you. [They laugh. Lor. Why, what!-I think I'm sported with. Take heed; I warn you all; I am not to be trifled with. Enter CAMILLO and ISABELLA. Leo. You sha'n't, sir; here's one will be in earnest with you. 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 it. Draw. Lop. Ah Lard, ah Lard, ah Lard! 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. him Omnes. O Lord, O Lord, O Lord! Leo. Why then, may all those curses pass 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 shew what men with honest looks can prac tise, know, he's married to another. Alo, and Fel. How! Leo. The truth of this is known to some here. Car. I know the person. 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. Lor. Death and confusion! He a villain too! Have at thy heart. [He draws. Lop. Ah! I cann't bear the sight on't. Cam. Put up that furious thing; there's no business for't. Lor. There's business for a dagger, stripling; 'tis that should be thy recompence. Cam. Why then, to shew thee naked to the world, and close thy mouth for ever—I am myself thy wife. Lor. What does the dog mean? Cam. To fall upon the earth and sue for mercy. [Kneels, and lets her periwig fall off. Lor. A woman! Lop. Ay—cod, and a pretty one too, you wags you. 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. Isa. 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 covered by it, which, with the lady, now will be resigned to 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. Lor. Incredible! but go on; let me hear more. Fel. She'll tell thee the rest herself, the next dark night she meets thee in the garden. Lor. Ha!-Was it Camillo then, that I Isa. 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. 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? 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. 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. 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. EPILOGUE. WRITTEN BY MR MOTTEUX. I'm thinking, now good husbands are so few, Many poor damsels, if they dar'd to tell, Restraint and custom share our inclination; Nor with a friend at night, our fame regarding, With this decorum, they can hardly gain To be thought virtuous, e'en in Drury-Lane. F Though this you'll not allow, yet sure you may Then sure Camillo's conduct you'll approve: Wou'd 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 se blest. All, soon or late, that dangerous venture make, And some of you may make a worse mistake. |