WHere's my Mother, Rosania?

In her Closet Cousin, where should she be?

Close at her Beads I warrant you.

She has been very devout since Horatio went off from his Honourable proposals of Matrimony.

Thou art a mischievous Girl, art not thou asham'd to railly thy good Aunt so?

Well, she has been most grievously devout ever since his apostacy, to the vexation of us all: But shou'd he turn about again, she wou'd soon lay down her Beads, and quaver to her Guitarr, like an old Spinstress to a Wheel.

Yes, and discard the Irish Fryar, Father Tegue and his Lay Brother, for a brace of unclean Tyre-women: 'Tis somewhat hard to set ones heart up­on the other World, till we grow unfit for the uses of this.

Very true, for my part, I believe there are none weary of the World, till the World are weary of them; the World begins with them first.

Thou art in the right; methinks it is a very pretty World; they may talk what they will of Vanity, the most pious Christians in Madrid are loth to leave it.

I am resolv'd for my part, to have a good opinion of the World, till the World has an ill opinion of me; and there's an end on't.

Mrs. Rosania, my Lady calls for you.

I go.

Pray say I am retired, here's my office.

Madam, the Ghostly Fathers are with my Lady.

Now is their time indeed; have they no Collation?

Lord Madam, that you shou'd ask that, when were they here with­out one?

Good men, they are content to suffer here on Earth, and with much eating and drinking, they painfully consult about affairs of Heaven.

Will you not go to 'em, and take part of what they eat and talk?

No; much good may't do my Mother with her Irish Hypocrite, the [Page 2] Reverend Father Tegue O Divelly; I have at present no Stomach to Sweet­meats or Confessors. Office lye thou there, and now to my Novella's.

So, to my wish, I am alone, and now can freely think of him who has so often Charm'd me. Hah, what Madness is this to fall in Love with one I know not! Nor does he know me, or my Love! Oh, if his Mind be like his Body, (and certainly it must be so) 'twill justifie my passion to the World. But let me see Cervantes, what sayst thou? Ha, who s there? whither now?

The good men are gossiping with my Lady, and zealously expecting a recruit of Sweetmeats.

Good men, they thrive well, and grow fat upon Mortification. But now to my Legend of Lovers.

Ha Madam, that was a subtil way of discovering your passion, but it will not serve in my case. But I must find some means to let him see my face, and if he like it, so, if not, mercy on me, I dare not think on what must follow.

Let me see.

Ha! what noise is that?

These Liquorish Priests dispatch their Sweetmeats with as much haste as a hunted Bear would a Honey-Pot.

The Fathers (at present up to the knuckles in Jelly of Quinces, with three or four Bottles of the richest Wines) desire your sweet company.

Tell 'em I am retir'd, and can't come.

Ha, ha, Novella's and a Pocket glass instead of Beads and Office.

Get you gone Huswife, you grow as mischievous as a Monkey.

Well, well, l'le leave you to your pious Meditations, Farewel.

Let me see, will this Face do any Execution,

If it will, look to thy Heart, my unknown Gallant. The Poets call these hairs our Snares and Nets; if they be l'le set them, let who will be entangled with them—Now for my Patches, these are to Powder our Ermin Skins with;—ha, my dear unknown Love, have at thee.

Bless me Father! what use she makes of her Retirements! these are her Devotions.

Have they caught me, I'me undone.

Come Mistress I'le see what you have here,

Benedicite! what's here? a wicked and profane Love Book; good Father, I be­secch your Reverence, make her Heart ake with pennance for this.

In trot it is great pitty of dee, and a great faable, by my shoul I vould have all handsome Ladies dewout indeed▪ and I do love to put my Eye upon dem, and maake a great faash upon dem, when I do instruct dem, indeed gra.

No doubt on't.

I do love to caast de look upon de pretty Laady indeed, vid pious me­ditaation, and consideraation dat Heaven did maake dem sh [...] handshom gra.

Good holy Man, we are bound to admire the works of Heaven.

Vel shayd Daughter, dou dosht spake like an aable shaint, indeed gra; but I must complain upon you for dis waanity, if dou musht have some waanity, joy pridee now taake shome fitt days for dat occaasion of waanity.

This is a sweet preparation in procession week, to be pruning your self, like an unclean Bird.

Phaat will I spaake unto you for dese spotts and blemishes upon dy shweet faash gra, arrah I vil maake you do de greaat pennance for dish.

What's the reason Father I may not wear patches?

Aboo, boo, boo, what am I dat dou dosht maake expostulaation, and de­mand a Reason of mee?

One that has it not about him.

Reashon of mee, dou dosht maake indignaation and affront upon me, by my shoulwation. Am I not a Priesht, and vil I give a Reashon.

'Twas wickedly done to affront the good Man so.

Have I Converted sho many Hereticks dogs and was sho deep in our braave Plott, and had like to have bin after being slain upon a Gibbet, and been a great Martyr for de Plott, and dosht dou require a Reashon of mee?

Why wou'd you escape? You wou'd ha' done great service to the Church, by being hang'd for it, no doubt Sir a man of your Reverence.

I vill agree vid dee upon daat, but I do not caare for being hang'd, it dosh maake a Priest look sho like a Beasht and a Dogue indeed, and besides I vould not be hang'd but vid a with, as our Forefathers in Ireland us'd to be Hang'd.

Thou'rt a right Sanctified Man; and Heav'n be prais'd for thy deliverance.

Ah good shoule dou vilt be a greaat Shaint indeed joy. I vil tell unto dee I did escaape because I did deshire to be a Caardinal, and by my Shoulwaa­tion I tink I vill be a Caardinal before I vill have Death, dere has not bin one Eerish Caardinal a great while, I did Plot as well, and cou'd hang as well as de best of dem, but if I bee a Caardinal I know what I vill do.

Well I am corrected, I will never ask a reason of you more, I wou'd as soon beg of a Spanish Souldier.

Do not, for de Church is infaallible, and de Pope is infaallible, and de Caardinals are infaallible, and I vill spake more unto you, de Prieshts are infaalli­ble too. And I shay blesh dy shweet Faash from patches, dou hasht a pretty Faash pull of dese Spots,

I wou'd not veare patches upon my faash for de Vorld indeed joy, no sait vould I not. By my shoul she's a brave Lady—

The wisest may sometimes be loosers by their scruples.

I do not caare for all dat I vil be content vid mine own Faash, vid out patches fait and be Abo'o! dou haasht shome upon dy breasht joy I vill put dem off.

What do you do, hold off.

Oh wicked Child! do you resist the good Man?

By my shoul I vill take dem off, Mash it is gallant Flesh and Blood, Ab'oo, I cannot bear it, farewel I will meet dee upon de prado!

Go to, you have angred the good Man, Grycia!

Madam.

Get our Vails, we will make visits to the Saints at several Churches.

Put on thy Hat Hernando, thou hast been too long my Fathers good Servant, not to be my Companion, and art to have the next Commission that falls in my Flanders Regiment.

I shall ever be your Servant: but Sir.

Thou mutterst and art angry with me, prithee speak thy mind with freedom.

I am angry with you because I love you.

Thou hast wit and courage, and I know thou lov'st me.

Pox on this insolent Curtezan for me.

Wilt thou not allow me one folly.

Not when that folly allows you nothing of your self. Doat upon a Wench, jealous, vex'd, and disquieted for a Wench!

Speak with more Reverence of a Wench, why from Mexico to Iapan, is there such a joy, such a comfort as a Wench: What do Kings War for but for power, and power for what? To have what Concubines they please, there's the end. What do we Officers fight for, but for Money and a little Honour, to get a Wench? what have Priests, Bishops and Cardinals profits and Dignities, but to procure Wenches? Is there a man in Spain, Lay or Spirititual without a Wench, who has Wit or Money enough to get one? And then to speak thus irreverently of one!

Pardon me Sir,—I wou'd have a Wench to please me, but not to trouble me.

Of all our Art and Industry, our toyl and hazard, Woman's the sweet end; who wou'd give a doyt to govern Men, but by that means to have power over Women?

A Gentleman may have a little innocent lust, or so, but to fall in love, and with a Mercenary thing.

Thou art no Philosopher Hernando, prithee what is Love? why no­thing but great Lust.

Oh sye Sir; Your true Lover sighs and pines, and seeks out shady Groves, and murmering Brooks, and tells his mournful tale, with Arms a cross to Eccho, and never thinks his Mistriss is a Woman, but a Goddess.

No where but in Romances, why there's no diversion or conversation in Madrid, but with a Curtezan. The men are too grave (not to be uncivil and saydull) and the honest Women are lockt up; besides none in Spain are so well bred as your Curtezans, Hernando, no more.

Why will you put your self in pain because you think another Courts this Levia, and she is wavering, there are others as handsome in Madrid, see her no more

Pain is but a relishing bit, to make us taste our pleasure better; she has made me jealous, which spurs up my restive Love, that wou'd have Jaded [Page 5] otherwise whilst she lov'd only me, I cou'd have lov'd another, but now she loves another, I can love none but her.

A very pretty riddle, make her believe you love another and she per­haps may then love none but you.

I have it in my Head, come along with me to her, thou shalt see me use her scurvily, and try what that will do.

You know how angry your Father will be.

Let what will come on't, I will go through.

I have stood by you when Bullets have whistled about our Ears, and will not leave you now.

Come on.

Are you stark mad Neice, by your extravagance to lose the finest, pro­perest, kindest and most liberal Lover in Madrid.

Come Aunt, you understand not my business:

Go to Mistress; I not understand a Womans business with a Man, that's fine.

Nay I must confess you have been us'd to bring the Young together, and make meer strangers Friends.

Oh cry you mercy, have I so, I'le breed no bate nor division between young People, if they agree not in their Youth, they'l hardly be brought to­gether in their Age.

You can procure the beginning of Love; but know not how to make that Love continue.

Marry come up, you shall keep School and teach new tricks to Widows above Fifty, did not I take you a poor sorry Girl, out of your Mothers hands, rest her Soul, she little thought what preferment you wou'd come to? did not I bestow all Accomplishments of good breeding to fit you for a shining Mistriss in Madrid?

Well Aunt.

And has not Heav'n blest my endeavours, and made you a very Paragon. And you with your extravagance to cast away the fruit of all my care and Prayers for you.

Why so froward Aunt, what all Age, and no Gravity?

You will make me Gray with sorrow.

Luscindo began to cool upon my fondness, and seek out new Adventures; and I'm resolv'd to plague him for't.

You say you Love him?

Yes, with such madness as admits no rest.

And will you anger him?

Yes, therefore, if we don't season our love with anger sometimes, 'twill be too luscious, and men will surfeit of it.

Well I have another Neice who shall obey me, but pray make ready to Mass, you will consider the day I hope; I shall never live to neglect good days, how can we look for a blessing upon our endeavours else. Here he comes, why Neice.

Let me alone, by Heaven I will have my own way, Fa, la, la, la, are you there, were you sent for?

No, had I been so, 'tis ten to one I had not come.

Y'are very haughty on the sudden Sir.

Where is the pretty Miss that I must treat for?

Bless me do you know what day 'tis, and what week, you make me tremble, will you make no difference of days, Benedicite?

A very pious Bawd.

Upon a Holy-day in a Holy week, have you no conscience, have you no grace left?

Be not transported, good Madam.

Ne're tell me, I must serve Heaven sometimes as well as Minister to the necessities of young Gentlemen.

Be not so hot, but hear me but one word.

'Lass I must confess Gallants will have occasion sometimes, but then they must be sure to choose fit days.

Madam, I must be possest of Levia, I cannot live without her, she is yonder, she seems fall'n out with her Gallant, and has of late given me some hopes.

My love like the wind shall never stay long in a Corner.

I am pleas'd so it never blows on me again.

What does he mean? I'le try him to the quick.

Did you give her my Letter, Hernando?

Yes, and she Kiss'd it as eagerly as if she wou'd have swallow'd it.

What was she doing?

Singing to her Guittar, with such a ravishing Melody I know not which exprest more skill, her Voice or Fingers, but they both excell'd all I have ever heard, her Face, her Mine, her Shape beyond all paralell.

Thou ly'st, base parasite and pimp, she is some Dowdy Quean.

Good, she resents it to the full, and cannot bear it.

What have I done? I shall blow up my whole design by showing Anger; Ha, ha, ha, this is a pretty tale indeed, Ha, ha, ha.

For old acquaintance sake, I cou'd not conceal my good Fortune from you, and now you know the reason of my coming I shall take my leave.

And as a sign that I have been provident, behold? kind Doristeo excuse me: the parting with a tedious old friend whom I shall ne're see more, has made me not so civil to my new one as I ought.

My dear, my sweet, I am transported.

Pox on't, where's my Mistress; I'd fain be transported too.

Ha, ha, ha, this touches him I see.

Let your Coach at­tend here after Mass, we'll see the Pictures which came from Rome: And in the Evening we'l drive in the Parado.

Death shall I bear this?

S' Heart Sir are you mad? will you spoil your own design by being angry, laugh Sir, laugh, ha, ha, ha.

Walk this way a little.

Ah Luscindo, I have thee fast upon the Hook, and I will play with thee.

Madam, there is a Lady will revenge our quarrel.

Ile not do thee the honour to laugh at thee.

Come, where are you young Gentlewomen? to Church, come on.

Here Madam.

This haughty Curtezan by her Pride, is a Mistriss fit for none but Lucifer himself?

I am provok'd to the disordering of my Temper: But I shall not want occasion of that, Don wants not Courage.

'Life Sir fear nothing, you may be sure of her Love, by her anger; she swell'd at what I told her like a Dutch Trumpeter, she had fire in her face, and flames in her Eyes.

Let's see which way they go.

Sir if you dog her, you're undone; in Love as in War, they that strike first, have the worst on't: You must dodge like an Old General.

Well she shall not be too hard for me, I will have my will on her.

Why Daughter, Oh wicked Girl, what wandring eyes you fling about you, whom wou'd you entangle? Why Rosania! you wanton Minx, you are stareing up at every Window, like an Indian who had never seen a City. A modest Maid shou'd have no other object but the ground▪

The Earth is a prospect for Beasts, and Heaven for us Madam.

Wou'd you have me always look upon my Nose, and learn to squint?

If you always look'd upon the ground, how did you get a Husband?

By the reputation of my modesty, I was indeed forc'd. My inclination was to a Nunnery, why Rosania?

I was only looking at a Balcony to see a young Gentleman play with a Ladies Fan.

How now, have you your distinctions already, and observe who is Young and Old.

Oh Father, we walk'd softly, waiting for you here.

I vill tell de Laady what I have seen indeed, all dee Shaints are in dere besht Apparrel, and are very brave Joy, arrah my Lady, it vould do good to your Heart in your Body, to shee dem dat I have sheen.

This is a very silly Fellow, Rosania.

A Shick Taylor, has shent a very braave Pettycoat to Shaint Clare, and by my Shoul she does look very gallantly.

Well that good Taylor may be an Example to us all, who ever he be, I'le warrant him a good Soul, and a devout Workman.

Oh yes, Taylors are very honest, phen dey be very sick introt.

What else Father have you observ'd?

Why Shaint Teresia, has new habitts from Cap a pie shent from Paris, I tell you she is now ash fine and braave, as e're a Shaint in Madrid, no dish­praise [Page 8] to any; she may show her Faace before dem all; phat vill I shay more?

I'me glad on't, for to say truth, 'twas a shame to keep her so poor and Thredbare upon Holy days, and I may say in private, without shifts of under Linnen.

Now she's Dead, and can neither work nor beg for her self.

Dou shayst vel Daughter, it vas a great pitty and a shaame and a great Faable too.

Cousin, Cousin, methinks yonder is the finest Gentleman I ever saw.

I have order'd my Coach to be here about, and I must wait for my hu­morous Mistress, she may be as slippery as an Eele for ought I know.

Did you ever see so delicate a Man?

Oh yes, many a one.

I am sure you never did, it is impossible.

Ah ha Cousin art thou thereabouts?

Who can that young Lady be, that fix'd her Eye upon you, as if she wou'd dart you through.

I cannot imagine, she has the brightest Eye I ever saw, and a Mine be­yond any of the Sex. I am resolv'd I'le have her dogg'd, but let us not seem to mark them.

He minds us not.

Sure I shall be so happy to have one sight of my Love, at some of the Churches.

Pox on this Curtezan, she vexes me at heart.

Ha, this is he, there's no other like him.

Can you not guess Cousin, what fine Gentleman that was ev'n now?

What shape, what motion's there? If her face be answerable, she threatens Death to all who look on her, she seems to observe us!

I am resolv'd to try if my face can conquer him, who with such force has vanquisht me.

If I cou'd get but one glimpse of her face.

I'le drop my Handkerchief, sure he will take it up and give it me.

Madam, vouchsafe a moment but one look.

What is your meaning Sir?

Be pleas'd to accept this little service, this Handkerchief dropt from you Madam.

From me Sir, you are mistaken, sure, I'le search; the truth is Sir, mine is missing, but I think mine had not so fair a Lace.

It can be none but yours Madam.

I'le put it up in hope it may be mine; but if you hear of one who has more right to't; I live in Garden-street at the Blue and Gold Balcony, near the House of Don Bernardo.

He is my Father, most Divine Creature.

His Father?

Why Elvira, where are you? There are Gallants here, bless us, Temptation is approaching, Fly.

Ah Cousin, I find something, that I had not this way to give a sample of my self!

By Heaven she is the brightest thing I ever saw.

If ever any Angel wore a Petticoat, this may be one.

The World has not a Beauty like her, I am all on Fire.

And Sir I can tell you some news which may make well for you; your Father is resolv'd not to return to Flanders, but to Marry the devout Widdow Belliza, who undoubtedly is this Ladies Mother, what think you now of Levia?

Name not that paltry thing, this beauty came from Heaven.

And truly▪ the other Beauty is going to Hell.

As suddenly as Lightning she struck, and as soon vanish'd, she has kindled in me in a wild and desperate flame; and I am resolv'd I will possess her or perish in the attempt.

CAst not your wandring Eyes on either hand, Ile lead, pray follow one another singly; and look strait forward thus.

Like Mules in a Draught.

Look forward thus, quoth she, wou'd my Aunt have one of us look like her.

Indeed 'tis a little unreasonable.

D' yee hear young ones.

What wou'd I give to have one glimps of this unknown Mistriss, or to find who she is.

I thought your known Mistriss might have been enough for you for some time.

There's no comparison betwixt an adventure and a purchase, especially where the Mistress seems the Aggressor.

Yes, for an Adventure you may have your Throat cut, for your pur­chase you are safe.

Come follow me as I direct you.

I am ruin'd, the sight of this young Cavalier has put me into wildness and confusion▪

Why you Minx, I see you there; whither do you throw your wicked Glances?

She is her Daughter by the authority she exercises over her.

What e're come on't he shall see my Face.

Tho' I'm sorry for your misfortune, yet I'm glad I was so happy to have the honour to serve you, Madam.

Your Civility deserves my thanks Sir, which I heartily return and wish it in my power to requite.

Oh Heaven, Complements and showing her Face to a Man the Saints defend us, you are defiled, get you gone Huswife before me; I shall set a Watch upon you; avoid Sir, come not near.

Blame not common Civility Madam, if I had given her a fall you might be angry, but not for helping of her up when she was down.

Fly, fly.

She is the most surprizing Beauty I ever saw, she has struck me to the heart; Sancho follow at some distance till you find where she goes in.

I need not do it I know her Mother, it is Belliza the Biggotte Widow that lives at the Blue and Gold Balcony, in Garden street.

She shall soon hear from me, and as I guess it will not be unacceptable, this Levia will tarnish and grow dull upon my hands; I ne're knew Love before this day, these killing Beams have pierced me thro' and thro'.

For my part I'm for good safe Wenching, without Knight errantry.

Thou hast a gross unelevated fancy, 'tis difficulty makes the pleasure high and racy.

Well I can eat my Venison without venturing my Neck to Hunt it down, 'tis want of appetite that requires such circumstances.

If I cou'd enjoy the whole Sex as easily as one Wife, there would be no pleasure in 'em all; the whole Sex wou'd be but one Wife.

Then farewel Levia.

No, I may have a long Journey to this Paragon, and must be forced to bait by the way. Besides in this Race I have Rival strains against me, and I'm resolv'd to whip and spur against him.

Are you so, this is fine what will become of my reputation, what scan­dal will be brought upon me and my yet unblemisht House; for two of you to fall out like Ruffians, and perhaps Murther one the other, for a Damsel of my bringing up; but lle prevent you if I can, Oh wicked men upon such a day too!

lle hear no more teasing, yonders my Coach attends on Levia, lets away.

Oh she's a wicked Girl, and breaks my heart with obstinacy.

But let me see here's, the good Irish Father, I will endeavour to interest him in my affair; good Father stay and let your reverence attend my story which con­cerns your Function▪

Out and awoyd my presence I vill loose my Reputaation, if I vill be after spaaking vid dee in de Street indeed.

I defie any one to say black's my Eye, I beseech your reverence come into my House.

Dy Houshe is of ill report, and day shay dat young People of different Sexes meet dare for Carnal Recreaation indeed by dy appointment, and Assigna­tion Joy.

Alas Father, every Gentleman and Cavalier cannot Marry; it is fit they should be supply'd, and I have now and then bred up one with Civil Education for that purpose.

Dou shayst vell.

But I defie all my Neighbours to say that e're we miss our Church, or that ever I suffer any Man to come within my doors upon a Vigil or Fast; and ne're a Woman in Madrid observes Lent and Fish days more strictly.

Dou dosht spaake like unto a good pious voman indeed, if dou dosht ob­serve dy Lents, dy Wigils and Embers, dou dosht vell.

I wou'd not break one of 'em for the World.

I believe dou art a very good Laady, and dosht love de Church, vel joy, as dou shayst every one cannot Marry; and Fornicaation is Venial but vee vil pass by some Peccadillo's as Shwearing, Wenching, and Lying and de like; in dose who love de Church indeed. Are dese young Gentlewomen handsome dat dou dosht breed up for de Occaasions of de young Cavalliers Joy.

The very Parragons of all the City, and they Dance with Castanietto's most Charmingly and Sing to the Guittar most Melodiously.

By my Shoul, a shivil and a good Pious Voman, and I vil go vid a good Priesht my Friend a gallant Man indeed, and vee vil Fornicate and Ab­solve, Absolve and Fornicate by turns every day at her House, vel I vill come and spaake vid dy Damshels and inshtruct dem joy, phaat vil I shay more.

Bless your Reverence, I beseech you go with me now and hear my story there is like to be Blood shed, which I would intreat you to prevent; it is about a wicked Neice of mine.

Vel since dou dosht observe dy Wigills and dy Fashts, and dosht love de Church I vil go vid dee Joy.

Thanks Holy Father, follow me.

Now I vil be after having a very good Strumpett, and I vil maake hashte to Donna Belliza too.

Well you have found me out, I'me in Love all over Love; but dost thou think thou art conceal'd.

Perhaps I might be in Love, if I shou'd see that gallant Cavallier osten; but now I know not who he is, or whether ever I shall see him more▪ He is the most Charming Man that ere was seen.

Pish he a Charming Man Oh my Luscindo.

Pish too good Cousin, there's no comparison betwixt 'em.

No, lle be sworn is there not, do not provoke me to forget my Friend­ship and Relation.

Pray Cousin do not anger me, who am as much concern'd for one, as you can be for the other.

Bless me, ungracious Girl, are you always at your Pocket Glass, you are resolv'd to be no stranger to your countenance, if this be a true intelligencer.

Wee shou'd know our selves, Madam.

How Mrs. Pert, what by a Looking-glass, this comes of your Novella's, they put fine thoughts into your head, how to please a Man, and all dressing, patching, and curling is at a Man; the Saints defend us.

Did Saints never use Looking-glasses.

If they did not, they were scurvily drest I warrant 'em.

You Mrs. Male-pert, I hear you have not been at Confession this fort­night: I will make you confess, Huswife, to Father Tegue who will be here soon: withdraw, and prepare your self for it.

Why shou'd Old fellows know the Secrrts of the Young? But it must be so, I cannot help it.

Now Vanity, this is to inform you, what force and strength your Beauty hath to conquer men with, and if you pursue that Train of thoughts: Heaven bless us! whether do they carry us?

Sure 'tis lawful to adorn our Faces, and we had better have our own Opinions, than our Maid's in the matter.

Yes, what d' yee think when you adorn, as you call it? But to please some Man with that, and its appurtenances. A modest Maid shou'd hide her Beauty from the World.

To what purpose, is it given her then?

I'le take care, your Jewel shall be a Prisoner in my Close.

Madam, Don Bernardo, the great Officer lately come from Flanders, bid me say he has business with you, and desires admittance.

With me! it cannot be; alas, I have given over all Business.

'Tis true Madam, I assure your Ladyship.

I can tell you more, my Maid had it in a whisper from one of his Ser­vants, that he is become your Lover.

My Lover, Ha, ha, ha, No, no, didst thou say so Elvia.

I protest Madam, 'tis true.

Good lack, how troublesome Men are.

There's no such inconvenience in the Match, He's rich, and a Man of Honour.

Nay I should be loth to do any Man wrong by too hasty an Exception, what manner of Man is he, I never saw him?

A goodly proper comely Gentleman.

To think of me, good lack a day, a Widow of my long abstinence.

Why so Mother, you are in the prime of your Age.

That's true, but on the sudden, when I am so ill drest; where have you left him?

In the drawing Room, what shall I say to him Madam.

Perhaps he did not mean to surprize me, say lle attend him soon; what manner of Glass is this?

A very true one Madam.

That's the reason you make so much on't, ha.

'Tis to examine our defects; but you have none, pray give it me.

No no, if that be the use on't, 'tis good to Examine our defects.

Let me hold it Madam.

Lord how like the Image of Negligence shall I look, there's no elegance at all in my Dressing.

I'le put your hair in order.

Do Daughter, we shou'd be orderly.

You see Madam, Glasses sometimes may be necessary.

Yes, to set out our selves somewhat, to stir up or provoke a Person to Conjugal affection, prithee how do I look to day humph?

Your Face is very powerful, exceeding moving.

Really is it truly! fetch my best scented Gloves, my Pastils and Po­manders?

And a little health to lay in your Cheeks.

By all means.

Love to me, blessing on's Heart, to me! but I must contain my joy.

Here Madam.

Why dost thou smile Girl?

To think how little you car'd for a Young Husband at my years, that grow so warm at the approach of an Old Collonel at yours.

Go to, Mistriss you're too bold, very pious women may fall in Love; this Man is Rich, Wife and Grave: My House and your Honour both need a Man of Reputation to guard 'em.

Methinks a Husband should guard my Honour better than a Father-in-Law.

Why, who knows but the addresses the Father makes to me, may breed in time some good Occasion between the Son and you.

Well chanc't, as if you knew my heart good Mother.

Farewel, I'le lay Red on at the Glass in my Chamber, be sure be not you seen.

Shweet Laady the Shaints blesh dee.

Good Father I'm busie.

Busy, phaat vidout me,

I vil not bear this, no fait will I not, to put contempt and Indignaation upon me.

What's the matter Father?

Dee matter! dosht dou not shee de maater; she did slight my Salutaa­tion and vou'd not spaake a vord to me, and by my fait she hash put de out­shide of de door upon me.

Indeed it is very hard.

By my Soulvaation is it. I vil go upon my faash in de business vith her, and vill speak plaain vords to her, very Teeth, and her Faash too; I do not caare for her, if she vil put de out-shide of the door upon me.

She has great business, for Collonel Don Benardo is come to make Love to her.

Ha, hoo, hoo, hoo, vil she taake dose toughts of Flesh upon a Fish day indeed, phaat vil I shay? By my Shoul I vil make I ennance unto her, that vil make her groan upon dish occaasion.

May a Woman not think upon a Husband on a Fasting day?

Is not a Husband Flesh indeed, you do not take him for Fish do you you must not put Flesh into any part of your Body upon a Fish day indeed: But I vil spaake no more; have I done so much for de Caatolick Church, and am I thus affronted in this plaash.

Why what have you done for the Church?

phaat vil I shay unto you dere is my Paaper that vil maake Testificaa­tion upon me, and I believe I vil be a Caardinal, or a Shaint at least indeed.

What's this I can't read it.

I vil reshite it unto you, it is a Lisht of Heretiks names that I did recon­shile phan I was in England, and I vil speake a proud vord unto any Jesuits faash dat shimple as I shtand here, I did bring over more than any shix of them.

Of Chambermaids dat vas maade vid Child by their Laadies Hus­bands, or, their Laadies Sons. Two and Taarty.

Of Caash-keepers, dat did run avay vid de money, and some broken wing'd Shopkeepers. Eighteen.

Three Masters of Colleges, and shix Fellows.

Of Whores, Eighty two.

That's a jolly Number indeed. I see you kept ill company, Father.

It was for deir shoules, indeed Joy.

Of Teives de housh breaktief, de shtreet tief dat do's Robb upon de Poc­kett, de pad teife of de Road, and de horse teife, de Sodomite, and de Murderer; just as day vere going to be hang'd. Nine and Fourscore.

Did you make all these good Catholicks?

Yes, braave Catholicks, gallant Catholicks Fait and Trott.

Of ancient faat women, day call Bawds, Thirty shix.

Of Knights of de posht. Fourty.

What are those Knights of the Post?

Phy it is a great Order of Knighthood which they have in England, but day shwarm in Ireland.

Of Cookmaids. Two.

How comes that number so small?

De Cookmaid find de greaat trouble in dressing de Fish, and day do not caare for fish days. All dese have I reconshile, and to be thus affronted; I vil go and meditate upon Revenge, and my Nature is Vindicative.

I long to steal into the wooing between this mighty Collonel and my Mother.

Good noble Collonel be more considerate, this is not like the Spanish Conversation.

No Madam, I have learn'd better things in France, and in the Nether­lands: We men of War are not for words, I love to march up close to friends of foes, 'tis all one to me.

By your carriage, I know not which you take me for.

I take all for Foes, till they have yielded.

Hold hold, good man of steel, pray keep the Peace.

This I suppose is your Trinket; Hernando, entertain her nimble chopps

Your man, know Old Gentleman I'm too good for his Master.

Old Gentleman! peace Child peace; had the prodest Grandee in Ma­drid call'd me Old, he had, by my beard, e're this fallen by my hand.

Pray, let your Valour spare my Aunt and me.

Her Neice, ha! I will not mind her.

Pray be not so pert, young Gentlewoman.

This young Bud interrupts us; be pleas'd to require her abscence.

How Sir, shall a sincere widow of my Reputation, be in Company with a Collonel alone? you have leave to speak, Sir; do you minx, hold your peace.

You must excuse the heartiness of men of my profession, when I charge I love to charge home, as all Europe knows.

Home, ay Madam, my Master always charges thro' and thro', routs every party, and levels all that are before him, he loves no Musick like the whistling of Bullets, and no perfume like the smoke of Gunpowder.

I was ever given to Valour, and Magnanimity from my Youth upwards, and everlov'd to take a Fort or Cittadel by storm, therefore consider Madam, what you do.

He intends to make Love with fire and sword, Madam, have a care of him.

Again, my little Blossom.

Stand off, what would you fight my Aunt?

Peace Huswife, I doubt not, but you are a gallant Commander as I have heard, but what is all this discourse to me?

He talks of his Valour, why they are always beaten by the French.

Voto, have a care, provoke me not, here stands the man, that always stood, and never ran, as can witness Monts, Seneff, Stratsburg, &c. my Regi­ment of Horse of four hundred.

Being at least, Eight and Thirty effective men.

What's all this Valour to me?

He mentions not one word of Love.

You hear Madam he can praise himself sufficiently, but cannot find in his heart to give your Ladyship a good word.

But come sweet Widow, what do we trifle for?

I hate this pickeering; Let's lay aside our forlorn hopes, and let our bodies joyn.

Help, help, my poor Aunt.

Sir, Sir, methinks you are too abrupt; this is not civil.

In Affairs of Love, he that shews most Love is most civil; and we can­not show it more than by eagerness and haste: Treaties of Conjugal Affection are always short and pithy. A word to the wife: Don Bernards D' Alcantara would make Donna Belliza his Spouse, and enjoy her Person incontinently: hah, Widow, sayst thou, hah?

Sir, this roughness of your carriage is somewhat unusual with me; but I suppose this is a fashion of speaking you make use of to many Ladies.

Now my Aunt comes home to the point.

'Ounds, do you not take me for a man of honour? Bernardo is known all over Europe to be a man of honour: Not take me for a man of honour!

I hope I may, Sir; yet men are frail and fickle.

What, love another besides you! You take me for a monster, sure: I'd have you know I'm none of those that are all Love, and no Conscience.

Good Sir do not beat my Aunt, I beseech you.

Sweet Prattle-basket be quiet; peace little one, or I shall grow passionate. In short, Belliza is young, handsome and rich, Bernardo is rich, brave and honour­able, active and sprightly, yet grave and civil.

The Widow melts like Snow before the Sun.

I have summon'd you; your Flag of Treaty is hung out; we have par­ley'd: Speak quick, Do you yield, or no? Know, I never had man or woman stand long before me.

You are a valiant man, I must confess; but your Valour does very much surprize and disorder me.

We must not loyter in Love, what we do we must do heartily.

In truth he seems a hearty Gentleman; Are you in earnest, Sir? Sure you dare not swear what you profess.

That's home indeed.

Yes, if your house be strong built, though swearing may seem a little un­civil at my years; yet when my Constancy is touch'd: Let me see, is your main beam strong? let me see: Ay, 'twill do: now have at you; By all the—

Hold, hold, Sir, do not swear, I beseech you.

Not swear when my honour and constancy are in question! Voto, I will out-swear the deepest Gamester in Madrid.

In professions of conjugal Love swearing may be lawful.

By the blood of all my Ancestors, by the unblemish'd Honour of my heard.

Oh horrid Oaths! you make my hair stand an end.

Silence: By all—Heaven! who is this?

You are free, Sir, to go on.

By all the beards of Arragon, an unknown Star.

Daughter, ha, what make you here?

Is she her Daughter? what ignorant Devil led me to the Mother?

You shou'd have stay'd without, I shou'd have told you all.

I am Plannet struck; this is the beauty I must worship: A Pox on the Wi­dow for me; I must get off from my wrong Visit with speed before she expects me to swear again.

How are you, Sir, not well?

A sudden indisposition; I am troubled with a Fit of—a—Madam, good night.

What a Devil ails the Old Fellow?

Sure this great Souldier has been wounded often in the head, his brain seems somewhat tender.

No, Girl, his wound's in the heart; his heart is tender. Good lack▪ did not think my poor remaining beauty had that power.

Pray Madam be civil after mischief, and bring him to the Stairs.

You are so forward; pray keep your distance.

Oh Cousin, I am transported with joy, too mighty for me, I cannot bear it.

Prithee don't run mad, Rosania, thou hast none of the strongest heads.

Look there, read, read, and be happy, for every one who touches that Pa­per must be so.

Love-madness is the same in all; let me see, this is to me. To the fair Daughter of Belliza.

Look within, the happy messenger that brought it, said, it was for the La­dy that fell down; from the Gentleman that help'd her up.

This is short, but very much to purpose: How came you by this?

By an holy woman that belongs to the Sisterhood of St. Clare. I'le tell you more, he mistakes me for the Daughter; and unless you give me leave to carry on this Intrigue in your Name, I am a lost creature.

Thou art far gone, I see, poor Rosania, I may trust thee with my Name, thou wilt use it well.

I'le write instantly. Farewell.

Oh dull Luscindo, cou'dst thou not apprehend me, or dost thou not like me? Thou, in both cases, art unworthy of me: but I understand his signs too well to think the latter, I wou'd he understood mine as well,

Oh, Hernando, I am mad till I have discover'd my Passion to my Mistress: 'tis plain enough she made advances: And what a dull Clod of Earth must she think I am who have not design enough to let her know my Love.

Have patience, Sir, some few hours, and if your Father, who is the most vigorous Wooer I ever saw, makes not way for you, I'le do't.

How, Hernando? for if I find not some way, I'le storm the house, but she shall know I love her.

The Sun is set, and the Prado is cool and pleasant; but I am all on fire.

I never saw a siner Evening: we shall have some curious Fruits, Confecti­ons and Lymonades, will you honour me to taste them?

With all my heart.

My Servant waits yonder: but, dear Madam, be pleas'd to add to the pleasure of the Evening by charming me, and all the company, with a Song to the Guittar.

If you can endure it, send for a Guittar.

We have one ready.

There she is that's her Voice.

How the Devil can you think of her?

Revenge, revenge: I am resolv'd to conquer her, then laugh at her. But where's the Lady Estifania, you promis'd should be here?

At hand, Sir; she is my Mistress, but shall be yours at present, and pray use her civilly; and d'hear, Sir, be sure to let me have her again untouch'd.

Pox on't, this Farce will never take, and if she discovers it, she'll triumph most unmercifully.

Play you your part, as well as I mine; and I'le venture my Life on't: Come here's your Lady Bright, your Mrs. Estifania.

Ha, she by this light may guess at me, but can't distinguish you▪

Gently, Sir, this way.

My dearest Estiphania.

'Tis he, he calls her Estiphania: all my Arts are suddenly turn'd upon my self: Hell take him, court her before my face!

What means this sudden, and this strange Distemper, Lady!

If he discovers my disgrace, he'l turn a Rebel too.

I feel a sud­den faintness in my Spirits, pray help me to some water from you Fountain.

I'le run and fetch you some.

Sir, I beseech you step for some strengthening Spirits, I find cold water will be too weak a Remedy.

You shall have them instantly.

Musick, though you are in tune, I am not: There's your Cordial, jog off.

Sweet Estifania, wonder of all Widows, Mirrour of thy Sex, thou bright­est thing on Earth.

You find you are dear to me, who venture my Life and Honour for you. Name not my Name once more; shou'd any one o're-hear it, and carry it to my Brother, I were lost: think on his Quality.

Thou art dearer to me than my Life, and I'le defend thee better. My Passion now exceeds all other mens, as thou out-shin'st the rest of all thy Sex.

Oh that I knew thy Brother.

I warrant you have said as kind things to Levia.

Brand me with infamy, if ever I consider'd her, but as a wandring wench, a trifle, only fit for too much leisure.

Thou lyest, thou Villain, thy tongue is black and rotten, as thy heart; I'le have another hand for my revenge on thee, but on this Serpent mine shall serve the turn.

Do you know the quality and tenderness of this young Lady?

I'le give her marks to be known by.

Pray keep your Nails in, beshrew your heart for never paring 'em.

Stand off, what will you rob her in the dark?

Death! the Jade scratches like a Griffon.

Here's the water, Madam. What d'ye mean?

Here's the Cordial.

What is it has inflam'd you thus?

No Cordial can relieve me, nor Water cool my Flame; Nothing can quench it but the Traitors blood; 'tis no time to dissemble now: I esteem'd your Passion, but had no power to answer it, I was so madly engag'd to Luscindo, the worst of men.

I have spent my time well the while.

I frankly own I have dissembled with you▪ to urge his Love by jealousie.

A very pretty account of all my Money.

Now I detest him, and if you'l aid me in revenge, by Heaven you shall entirely govern me.

What can he now have done so to provoke you?

He had the impudence to court a Lady here, even now, before my face, and talkt of me with scorn and hatred.

Do you know his new Mistress?

Nothing of her but what I over-heard ere they were aware on't: He call'd her Estiphania, and Widow; and she talkt of her Brothers Honour, Qua­lity, and her apprehension of his Rage.

Furies and Hell, Finardo, this Description can agree with none but my Sister.

It cannot be, she is a woman of Honour.

Woman and Honour, pish, Womans Honour is a Bulrush.

I am infinitely oblig'd to you, that you so soon shou'd interest your self in my Revenge.

Yes I'le revenge:

Shall he think because I make Love to a Cour­tezan here of his, to wound the Honour of my Family? His Life shall pay for't

I see you are wound up to high Resentments of my injury, I shall from, this moment entirely love you, and for ever detest him.

Pox on this Courtezan, I cannot think on her, my Honour! We'll wait on you home, and then revenge.

Dear Doristeo, now I find you are a Man of Honour.

IT is not fit Elvira that we trust this impertiment Girl with any Love affair, for I intend her suddenly for a Monastry: Her Fortune then will come to me.

Rosania quit the Room.

I go Madam.

I wonder Girl at the disorder of the Collonel, that my Autumnal Beauty shou'd so wound him; indeed my Coyness made your Father fall into fainting fits, but now alack, alack.

Sure Madam, he is infinitely taken with you?

He is the heartiest Lover in Madrid, I'le say that for him; and I have him fast, and as soon as he recovers shall have a visit. The Son may make a very good Husband for you.

I shall have no need of a Husband, having such a Father-in-Law.

Come, come, you know not how you will like him.

Too well, I know it; would Heaven that he lik't me as well.

Madam here's a Letter from Don Bernardo.

Ha, ha, ha, I told thee Elvira I had fired him.

You are like to have me from Generation to Generation, you first possest my Love, then it succeeded to your Daughter.

What do I read?

My Estate is your Daughters if she'll make her claim, while I am in perfect senses, which I find I am now, because I have the judgment to Love her.

Perfidious Wretch!

What can be the matter?

Is there no Constancy in vile Mankind?

What swift change is in you, or in the Collonel?

Let me see, his admittance may bring his Son into the House, who they say is a fine handsom Gentleman; who perhaps may be glad of my Person and Fortune.

Madam you seem disorder'd.

Surpriz'd I am, but cannot be troubled since you are so concern'd, this inconstant Collonel has transplanted his affection from me to you. Read that.

Out on him Vile Apostate, and can he think I wou'd be false to my dear Mother?

Me! No, no, Girl think not on that, Bernardo's Rich; and if he presses for a Marriage yield to him.

How Madam!

It will be convenient I will have it so, dispute not with me; I'le retire and send him his Answer, take him at first, you need no other argument of his inconstancy than his leaving me.

What Miracle's this that she can so easily part with a Lover!

Oh Cousin this wicked Duoena, this Grycia suspects the good Woman who brought the Letter, and has forwarn'd her the House.

I have consider'd this matter, and your using my Name may breed dan­gerous Consequences.

Say you so, 'tis now too late, I have settled the correspondence; but I intend not to tell her how: I have observ'd a loose Board in our Balcony, and, for fear the Woman shou'd be discover'd, have order'd my dear Doristeo to take his Letters there, and put his Answers under every Night.

Have you written to him?

I have.

Some way must be found out to retrieve this business; the least air or this mock Love may ruin me with Luscindo.

Since you will have it so, I'le rectifie the Error and let Doristeo know who I am.

Come little Daughter! dy Mother sent me to dee to Confess dee.

To avoid you her self, she sent you to me.

I vill maake de heart in her Body beat, and aake for dat indeed g [...]a.

Daughter do you awoyd de Plaash.

Now little Pretty Daughter dou must approach vid humiliation, and vid reverence unto mee to dy Confession, and dou musht give dy shelf up unto me gra.

I do Father.

Begin den, and I vill spaake unto de fait and trot she is a braave young Laady indeed by my Shoul I vou'd I vere aafter being in bed vid her.

With great sorrow and grief of heart, I confess I told my Aunt two lies since I confess last.

Indeed dosh two lies vere one offence gra, arrah Daughter dou musht say Forty Aves and Two Paters, and dou musht faasht tree Holy days for daat in­deed joy, dou shou'd Equivocate and maake use of mental Reservaation and keep dy lies for shome great and pious occasion.

I saw a fine Embroider'd Petticoat, and I wisht for it.

No great matter, yet it is a kind of a Shin too.

But Reverend Father I beg Heavens and your Pardon, I have laught at you several times.

Ahoo, boo, boo, maake laugh upon me, why didst dou laugh upon me? arrah dou shalt maake great Pennance for dat, dou musht kneel vid dy bare kneesh Naaked upon a cold shtone, one of de longest hours in de phole tay gra, but perhaps I vil take off daat too. I vil not anger her too much

Now I vil spaake unto dee. Dousht dou not taake great pleasure vid dosh pretty eyes to maake shweet looksh upon shome man or anodder I warrant you.

Oh yes, Father, and I was transported this day at the fight of a fine young Cavalier.

Peash den, dat is very vel, I vil inshite and provoke her.

And dou dosht desire shome communicaation in bed some night or anodder vid him I warrant you gra.

Not for the World unless I were Married to him, and then I must confess I shou'd desire it.

But hold I predee dosht dou not dream shometime of a Man and art pleash'd? by my Shoul her eyes doth worke Fascinaation upon me.

Yes Father, I do dream very often.

Daat is vel indeed, phaat dosht dou dream?

I dreamt last night that a fine young Gentleman came and took me by the hand.

Very vell, and I warrant dee he did shtroake dy Ame to dy Elbow, dush dush.

Yes indeed I dreamt so.

And he did squeesh dy shweet hand, and kish it hard dush? dush, dush Joy.

Hold, hold, Father, what d' ye mean?

I do only maake demonstraation phaat dis young man did unto deetrot, By my shoul she has maude great inflamaation upon me, and if she vil not agree and beat under me, I vill maake a raape upon her Body,

But predee spaake didst dou not dream shomphat further?

Yes, Heaven forgive me, I did dream that he took me hard about the waste, and did kiss me.

Vell gra, an dou vert not angry vid him Joy?

No, no, I was too well pleas'd Heaven help me.

Phaat he did taake de about middle and did kish de, dush, dush, dush, dush, dush.

Hold, hold, hold.

Peash de kish of de Priesht vil absolve de prophaane kish of de Lay Maan, vell and he did trow dee downe upon de plaash, I vill show de how.

No, no, I dreamt not so far.

He did, dou dousht not spaak right, and I vil show de how by my Shoul; I vill maake a Raape upon her▪

Help, help, help, help, ah, ah.

Heaven, what's the matter here? Why Father.

Help, help, help.

O dear Daughter, help me to hold her, she is poshesht, or obshesht vid an evil Shpirit.

Oh Madam, I am not possest, he is a wicked wretch, and if you had not come, wou'd have ravisht me.

Oh help, help, how de foul fiend dosh spaake vid in her, vid a hollow woysh?

This is beyond all impudence and wickedness, Madam, Madam.

Listen how hollow and terrible is dee woysh of de fiend.

Avoid, Satan, a dreadful hollow voice: Peace fiend, peace.

I vill carry her into de next Room, and exorcise her. Laady, dou maysht retire, I varrant de I am shtrong enough, de fiend begins to know me; he vill frighten dy Ladyship.

Madam, for heaven's sake hear, he is the most wicked Villain.

Benedicits, Avoid Satan, thou malicious fiend, to blast the holy man thus.

Look, look, he appears, and peeps out at her mout, indeed in de shape of a Polecat, dost dou not shee him.

Oh, yes, plain; oh what a misery is this, and what distraction will it cause in our Family? Don Bernarda is with my Daughter, and is to be her Husband, let him not hear this.

I vill turn him out in a moment, conjuro te Demonem.

Get her into some Room at a distance, where the fiend may not be heard, while I retire, and watch the Collonel.

Madam, Madam, are you out of your wits, hold, hold.

By my shoul I vill conjure upon her.

Oh, help, help, ah, ah, murther, murther.

By my shoul, Joy, I vill not murder dee.

Oh impudent Devil!

Ahoo, I have losht dis braave occasion;

now phaat vill I do for anodder?

Wonder not, Madam, at my fierceness, we Military men never whine and make love like Ladies eldest Sons, who have been bred out of harms way, but like Cocks of the Game, and are all for dispatch; besides Madam, your Mother and I am agreed.

How now Cousin, what haste?

Oh Cousin! this Tegue O Divelly is the wickedst Villain you ever heard of, I'll give you an account by and by.

Hah, my little twig of Beauty are you there? But pray Madam, let her not stop my course of Love, for if it has not vent with me, the ribb'd with Iron I shall crack.

What love to my Cousin? Why she's a young Lady.

Ay, Gad take me, why do I make love to her else? But prithee sweet blossom, contain that nimble Instrument thy tongue.

What, a Reverend white-headed, white-hearded old Gentleman with one foot in the grave, make love to a fine young Lady?

Old! because I'm white! why all our Family are so by that time they are of Age, we are known by it, as the house of Austria by long chins, thick lips, and lank flaxen hair. Hernando do you back what I say.

I warrant you, if any man out lyes me, then I am a Baboon. My Ma­ster, Madam, was grey at sixteen; I have known some of 'em grey at Seven: nay some of 'em have been born grey.

Ounds! the Rogue will ruin me with his lyes, this 'tis for a fellow to lye that has no discretion.

He is pure White and Red, White on his Head, with his Nose full Red, like Aetna's top, that still is flaming with the Snow about it.

I shall grow chollerick, Madam: for all these white hairs, I did last Cam­paign, without Pole, or any thing in my hand, leap a Moat of 20 foot wide, over a Fauxbray.

from thence to the Parapet, at the next standing leap, next to the Gla­eis of the Counterscarp, and then whipt over the Pallizado's.

Oh, Rogue, have a care.

Pish, they understand me not: you shall see, he took the Counterscarp about his middle, and the Bastion in his hand, and, whip, he took the Town in a twinkling.

A Pox on this Rogue, why sirrah.

And I will not lose my life for any man living, Madam, my Master is a man of the greatest activity of any man in the Army; I am sure he will put off the Spa­nish gravity when he runs away.

He tells you true, Madam, I was noted for it all over the Camp.

Can you creep through a Hoop, Sir?

He shall do't with any man in Europe; I'le go see for a Hoop, he shall do it presently.

Why sirrah, impudence.

Or, Madam, he can leap over Three Joint-stools one upon another; you have them in the Room, Madam, you shall see that done presently.

Rogue, saucy Rogue, I'le cut your throat, wou'd you have me play the Tumbler?

Madam, have a care of the Old Gentleman, my Young Master is the finest Gentleman in the world, is desperately in love with, and must perish without you.

Oh blessed news, but I must contain my self.

What say you to the Lady, you insolent Rascal.

Are you angry, Sir, that I speak a good word for you.

Be not offended, Sir, nothing in the world cou'd have pleas'd me better than what he said to me.

I am glad, Madam, any thing said in my behalf cou'd please you; your hand upon't, Madam, is it a match then?

You know in Spain our Wills are not our own, our Parents have 'em in keeping for us.

Why, Cousin, are you mad, will you marry shat Emblem of Mortality, that Death's head?

Thou little sprig of Envy, avoid, or I shall be furious.

Madam, you must go to my Lady.

Is the Priest gone?

He is.

Come on then, I'le venture.

The vigour of my Love can bear no delay.

There must be some time allow'd me in decency: But, Sir, since you be­gin to grow so particular, I must tell you a secret which concerns us both; have you not a Son nam'd Luscindo?

What does she mean now?

A Son, Madam! I have a stripling, a tall boy, but he is very young, he is not above sixteen.

Madam, my Master mistakes, he is but fourteen.

I was married at thirteen, and had him before I was fourteen.

Sir, you were married at eleven, did not I live

with you? He was married before I was born:

Curse on the Rogue. 'Tis true, Madam, but I had no Children till I was fourteen.

'Tis not for that I mention him, but if he be so Young, he is very forward, and I desire you will give a check to his ambition of serving me.

Hell and Furies! he dares not offer you his Love sure.

Yes, he has endeavour'd to corrupt my Maid, with this Heart of Ruby set in Gold: do you know it, Sir?

No: but by the largest Whisker in Madrid, (Gad forgive me for swearing) it shall cost the owner the best blood in his body.

Be not rash, proceed with calmness: if some fool has taken his Name up­on him, bid him, from me, endeavour to find the Owner, which will be no hard matter, that I may know who has injured me; and if it be he, advise him to leave no more Letters under a loose board in our Balcony.

Cannons and Culverins! have you a Letter of his?

No, I tore it in indignation.

Voto, I helpt to bring him into the world, and I'le send him out again.

Have a care, Sir, Extremities will fill the Town with noise, and hurt my Honour: I conjure you, let a private Rebuke serve.

Well, Madam, I'le obey, I kiss your hands; I'le find him instantly.

Fare thee well, thou art an Angel of thy Sex.

Was ever such a Tyrant! you draw a stood of Tears from my poor Eyes, to see you use my Niece so savagely: Did ever woman write so passionate a Letter, did ever Lady so bewail her fault? With sobbing and tears, upon her knees, she ask'd your pardon.

Dou hasht a Rock inshtead of a heart indeed: I did maake a cry upon her phen I did she her, vid dee poor Laady.

How are we all oblig'd to this good Man!

Ha, ha, ha.

Phaat dosht dou maake a graat laugh upon me, gra, arrah; I vill tell de now dou art very wicked, if dou dosht not taake pity upon de Laady, fait and trot.

Doristeo will pity her.

I tell unto you, she dosh not caare for dat fellow; Joy, phaat vill I shay more? Hasht dou no Conshence, by my shoul?

Thou wert an excellent Pimp in Flander, I see thou hast not forgot thy faculty here.

I do love to maake peash indeed between man and man, and man and voman; I do not know phaat dou dosht call Pimp, indeed.

I laugh at her.

O wicked wretch! wilt thou not hear the good man? So, here's the Rival, how we shall have fine work.

Peash voman, I will spaake to him, I musht be aafter shpaaking vid de gra; I vonder dou hasht no more Religion in dee, den to offer to taake anodder mans Mistress from him?

A Pretty Habit, for a He-Baud.

Lay it upon dy Conshence; is not Levia Luscindo's Laady? phaat hasht dou to do vid her? De Casuists are clear in de point, it is a graat Shin, and a graat Faable.

I am too nearly concern'd to have time for fooling, I am glad, Sir, I have met you.

Have you ought to command me, Sir?

Ha, what's the matter now?

Having wounded my honour in so sensible a part, you must repair it by fighting with me.

With your favour, Sir, you invaded my Right, but I have consider'd the matter, fighting is a solemn thing, and little Competitions about a Courtezan are not worth it.

Good Father, as you love Heaven, prevent their fighting.

Sir, you have not carried your commerce with my sister so subtilly, that I am ignorant of it.

Your sister! upon my honour this is the first time I ever heard you had one.

I am not to be trifled with, you know not Estiphania, the Widow, not her quality? you walkt not invisibly in the Prado, nor did you talk so softly, but your Discourses came to my Ear.

Is that it? ha, ha, what say you, Hernando?

Have you courage?

Ha, then 'tis no time to talk.

Now Father.

No, I vill fly now; we Priests maake dee vorld fight, but we do not caare for it our shelves.

Guard your self.

Hold, hold, hold.

For Heavens sake hear me; is it true that the Lady Estiphania, whom Luscindo entertain'd in the Prado, was your sister?

Why am I so concern'd else?

I did not think my Mistress had been so well allied, her Mother fells fish, and she is little better than a Bulker.

Death and Hell, do you continue your mockery?

By heaven 'tis true: I gave her a sounding Name, to put a trick upon Levia.

Oh Rascals, Villains, Poultrons! O Coward Doristeo, dare you not cut his throat? will you believe this lie?

Hold, hold, ungracious Niece.

Avaunt thou Bawd.

Oh my huckle-bone, my huckle-bone, ah, ah, ah.

Sir, you are a man of honour, and I must believe you; I ask your pardon for the trouble I have given you: pray give my friend and me leave to be your humble Servants.

Sir, I shall be glad to serve you, and if that can do it, I give you all my interest in that Lady.

Ah Coward, I'le dispatch the Villain my self.

Hold, hold, Finardo, help.

Sir, your humble Servant, I must endeavour to quiet this Lady, and runs at Luscindo.

Let me go, Coward, Rascal; I hate thee of all mankind: Help, help, Mur­der, Murder.

How cou'd you think on this creature?

I am reveng'd, and now I have done.

Oh, Sir, I have the best news for you, Elvira is infinitely in love with you.

What say'st thou, dear Hernando?

Here's my Master, I must not be seen with you.

Now has he heard of my Visit to Levia, and is come with a dull wise Lesson.

You stripling, I am come to tell you of a crime, which if you have the impudence to persist in, I'le make you the greatest Example of my fury that ever fell by this Arm.

Is it such a crime, Sir, for a Young Man in the heat of his blood, to love a handsome Wench?

Do you capitulate, Rascal? I'le make you know there is a difference of persons, sirrah.

I hope I may pretend where others are freely admitted.

How others?

Yes, others; if you have better thoughts of her, you are much mistaken, I assure you, Sir.

Death, you Villain! dare you blast the honour of so innocent, so vertu­ous a Lady?

She innocent and vertuous! ha, ha, ha.

Peace, thou abominable Varlet, or I shall forget my blood, and pierce. hy heart.

Sir, are these terms fit for a Son?

Dogbolt, to blast the honour of my Mistress; by my beard thy Mother ne're was a chaster.

Heaven forbid, Sir; if so, it wou'd be doubtful, whether I owe you that Respect I pay you, Sir.

Audacious Coxcomb, her innocent freedom is above all malice, which join'd with her Wit and Beauty, has made her worthy of me, of Don Bernardo.

What a Devil will the old man commit incest?

I tell you, sirrah, she is your Mother-in-law, I am contracted to her.

What do I hear! she my Mother-in-law! you will not prostitute the ho­nour of our family, by marrying a Courtesan.

Abandon'd slave and lyar, she a Courtesan! Earthquakes, inundations, roaring Seas, and thunder! thou Puppy-dog, thou diest for't.

Hold, hold, Sir, your Dagger,

drawn upon your son!

Let me go, sirrah.

Sir, I beseech you hold, there's some mistake.

Can any thing be so plain as thy blasphemy against Elvira? I will chastise thy black mouth'd insolence with Death.

Hold, hold, Sir.

Hell and Furies! is she contracted to him? then let his Dagger pierce my heart: but sure it cannot be.

Abuse my Mistress Elvira! does your guilt alarm you?

'Twas Levia! I meant, what have I to do with Elvira?

And what have I to do with Levia? shall that excuse?

By heaven, Sir, I thought you had all this while spoken of Levia, the fine Courtesan, from whose house I now came: and do you think I ought not to be transported to hear you speak of marrying such a creature?

No, no, Mr. Jackanapes, you know not Elvira, you, you?

Not I: how, where, or when shou'd I know her? I can't guess your mean­ing.

You know not this neither, which you gave her Maid, to corrupt her to your interest.

Not I, I never saw it till now.

Know, Young Coxcomb, she has made another-guess choice, nor you left no Letters under a loose board in her Balcony?

I cou'd as well understand you if you spoke Arabick.

She dispises you, bids you leave no more Letters: and if that Gem be not yours, she wou'd have you use all diligence to find the Owner, which will not be hard to do, that she may have satisfaction from him that has injur'd her: and I swear by all my former Atchievements, and magnanimous Deeds, I'le see her have it.

Thou dearest creature upon Earth, I admire thy Wit as much as thy Beauty.

[Page 29] Be pleas'd to tell her, I will never rest till I see the owner, and that I resent this injury so, that I am resolv'd she shall have full satisfaction.

Now you say somewhat: come prepare your self, I'le carry ye to see your Mother, and you shall ask her blessing.

'Tis in her power to give me the greatest in the world.

I'le carry you to her, because I'm resolv'd the day after to morrow you shall go to Flanders, while I settle here. Sirrah, Hernando, I have not reckon'd with you for your damn'd Lies, Rogue, but go now and tell Belliza we are coming to wait on her.

I will, Sir,

Come stripling, follow me, I'le get some Pasteels, and stiffen my Whis­kers, and so go.

I follow, Sir.

For Flanders! I'le see it under water, or, which is worse, all under the French King, e're I leave my Dear, my sweet Elvira?

I hope, my Dear, thou hast not afflicted thy self for my absence: it seems to me an Age since I kiss'd this fair hand: Your Mother and I have seal'd and dispatch'd, and now thou'rt mine, my Dear, when shall a Domine do the Of­fice? by my hilt and blade, I am all on fire for consummation.

No haste, I beseech you, Sir.

By my honour, but there is haste on my side, why, I am in a Fever, in a fiery Fever.

What noise is that?

Some Musick, my Dear, I have provided for thee, though I must confess I delight in nothing but Haut-boys, Trumpets, Drums, Kettle-Drums, Whole Can­non, Demi-Cannon, Culverin, Half-Culverin, Musquet and Pistol, neighing of Horses, clattering of Arms, Groans of dying men, and such magnanimous mili­tary noises, fit for Hero's, yet I have provided softer Musick, befitting your soft sex: come in and sing a Love-Song, ye Scrapers, fit for the occasion

Sure this vapouring old Fool must be a coward.

Love in aged Veins, you damn'd Fiddlers, you Scoundrels of Rosin and Catsgut, what have I to do with aged Veins, you Caterpillars, Vermine, most confounded Minstrils, I will crack your empty Noddles, and demolish your squeaking Fiddles, that you shall not be able to play before a Maypole.

Methought they sung very well, what made you so passionate?

Uncivil Rogues, did I chuse them to entertain my Mistress, and must they Lampoon me with aged veins? aged, quoth they. But come, Madam, I'le enter­tain you with a heroick Song of my own, and I had provided this Drum to sing to, which is better than a Theorb, or Harpsycord.

Pray bless my Ears with it.

I will, my Dear, strike up.

Play the Ritomells. There's a Song, if you talk of a Song.

'Tis admirable.

I see, my dear, thou hast Judgment: Go on.

Hold, hold, must my devout house be taken for a lewd Garrison? Thou creature of most military noise, be gone, must this wicked rattling be heard in my house?

He shall go, but I take it ill you should call it, a wicked noise which the Hero loves above all pitiful effeminate Fiddles.

Sir, your Son waits without.

Call him in: now my dear, thou shalt see thy Son-in-law, he is very young, and somewhat wild, he takes like his Father for that. He denies every thing thou dost tax him with, and knows nothing of the matter.

Come Youth, come forward, and pay your Duty to your Mother-in-law.

Is this your Son, Noble Sir?

It is, Madam.

Sir, I am your most obedient servant, and you are welcome, and ever shall be, under my Roof.

You honour me exceedingly.

He is a most excellent accomplish'd Person; oh heav'n! how my poor heart pants and throbs at him.

Is he not prodigiously tall of his age? Simple as he stands there, he is bare sixteen years old.

Madam, my Master speaks too modestly, he is but between fourteen and fifteen.

Good lack, I never saw the fellow of him.

Rogue, will you never take warning? Sirrah, get you out. Indeed, Madam, I thought he had been sixteen.

My dear, this is your Son-in-Law.

I shall be proud of my Relation to him.

Let him do his Duty to you.

Madam, 'tis already a blessing to have kiss'd your fair hand, but I aspire at another benediction.

You shall not fail of all that I can give you, Sir.

Fair hand, I like not that expression; his eager kiss, and his fix'd looks. Come, Madam, give him your blessing; I have appointed him his business, he must be gone.

Under a loose board, in our Balcony, you shall find an answer this Night. Heaven bless you.

He is a sweet young Gentleman, I am enamour'd to the last degree, and methinks he looks amorously upon me.

Heaven let me contain my joys.

His smooth Chin must be out of my way. Come, stripling, be gone, be gone.

Hold, hold, Noble Sir.

No, no, be gone, be gone.

Ah, me! Elvira, is he gone? What will become of me, I shall faint?

I have appointed him to go towards Flanders the day after to morrow: He shall go where Honour calls him, while I stay here and sacrifice to Love.

O Daughter, help me to stop his Journy, or I am a lost Woman.

Is she caught already? Well, these melancholly devout Women, are the lovingest Worms upon occasion. Pray entertain my Lover, while I peruse a Note, wherein I have set down the things I must have before Marriage, and I'll endeavour to serve you.

Good Noble Sir, one word with you.

With all my heart, a hundred if you please.

You seem too severe to this sweet young Gentleman your Son.

Not at all, Lady, he is a pert Boy, and w [...]ll be too forward if I use him otherwise.

Dear Madam, no passion ever equall'd mine, I adore your Beauty and your Wit, and am infinitely transported that you are pleas'd to let me know my happiness; but all this serves but to heighten my misery, unless your power, and your Mothers, can prevail with my Father to stop my Journy into Flanders, which he has resolved shall begin the day after to morrow.

Sir, one of your Flanders Officers has extraordinary business with you; he is at your House.

But why so soon for Flanders? methinks you should be pleas'd to have him in your sight, as I my self am.

I beseech you let him be present at my Wedding.

I am sure he shall be so.

When he has perform'd as many brave actions as I have done, he shall think of peace, but now Honour calls and he must go.

Does Honour call so soon?

I beseech you, Sir, let me have interest enough to prevail with you for his stay till my Daughters Wedding.

No, Madam, I have reasons to dispatch him away which I do not ex­press.

And I have reasons to stay him here which I do not express.

My dear good-by, afflict not thy self for my absence, I'le see thee again e're bed-time; I kiss thy hand. Farewell my beauteous Mother-in-Law.

Oh I faint, I die, my dear Luscindo.

Why Mother, Madam, Madam, this is a mighty Love-qualm: she reco­vers.

Ah, my Luscindo.

How, Madam, your Luscindo?

Come, Daughter, 'tis in vain to endeavour to hide that Passion which has thus, in spight of me, betray'd it self: but 'tis wonderful to observe the power of Love, and sympathy, and all that, but to lose this sweet Young Man.

Trouble not your self, I'le bring all about yet; I spake even now of a Note, it was not what I told you, but a Ticket from Luscindo to me.

To you! ah me, ah me! you are anoter mans wife, will you give ear to him?

Hold, Madam, mistake me not, he begs me to be his Advocate of Love to you.

Ah, my dear child, to me, say'st thou?

He is infinitely taken with your person.

With me, that am wholly spiritual! but this sympathy of Lovers hearts is a great secret in Nature, [...]nough to puzzle all Philosophers. But where's the note?

I tore it, lest his Father should spy it, who is ignorant of all. Know, Ma­dam, I am now your Mother-in-law by a double way, and will not bate an ace of my prerogative.

Ha, ha, ha, dear child, thou art an arch one, I profess: well, go thy ways.

Take notice then, Daughter Belliza, you must be at your Balcony between Eleven and Twelve, and Luscindo will entertain you there, while I stand Centinel at the Wicket, and watch who comes by.

Oh blest news! I am transported.

You make me angry, Daughter: I entertain a man at midnight, when I should be at my Beads!

Come, Daughter, I will have my Title, and use my Authority: I advise, nay, command you as a Mother.

Well, thou art a wag, I vow.

There's no fear, I your Mother-in-law will take care of you.

Well, Daughter.

Daughter.

Mother, then since thou wilt have it so, I give my self up wholly to your conduct.

Aboo, boo, boo, vilt dou sho joy, arrah, I vill put Excommunication up­on dee, art dou not ashaam'd, and dosht dou not tremble to look me upon de faa­ther, gra, didsht dou not maake Vow unto me, never to commit marriage, and like a pioush Vidow, to give dy estaate unto de Caatolick Church; Joy Trot, I vill maake dee know it is a mortal sin to maary, and I vill give dee up unto shaa­tan for dis gra.

Heaven, what shall I say! I am confounded.

Dou dosht behaave dy shelf gaallantly by my shoulwaation, how didsht dou dare to put dee out-side of the door upon me, hoh?

Good Father hear me, I would marry to perswade my Husband to give his Estate to the Church.

Den dou voudsht be a pious Laady indeed, Joy, but he vill be aafter keeping dy Estaate and his own too an be.

While he thinks to have power over my Estate, he is deceived; for I have by a private Deed put it out of his reach.

It is very laudable and pious, if dou dosht cozen him to a holy and good end gra, but I will maake de groan under dy pennance indeed, for talking of deese fleshly matters upon a fish-day.

Ah, who is here?

Ah, by my shoul have I cought dee again in my clutches, dou art pos­sesht, I vill exorcise dee now.

Stand off, let me go, thou beast, thou Swine.

Dosht dou hear? dee fiend speaks in her body, and calls a Priest a Swine indeed. I vill conjure dee, phaat is dee Vidow gone? aboo, boo, she hash put dee out-side of de door upon me again: Daughter, awoyd dis plaash dat I may ex­orcish.

Help, help, Cousin, I vill tear his eyes out.

Be gone, you lustful Villain, we will complain to the Fathers of the Inquisition.

By my shoul I vill maake a great laugh upon dee, de inquisition is for de rich Jew, and de Heretick dog; come into another Chamber, Joy. Hold, hold, hold, dy wicked nails.

You a Priest! a Devil. Be gone.

Murder, murder, I vill excommunicaat, I vill excommunicaat.

Let's follow him, and see him out.

My mother threatens to send you to a Monastery to morrow.

To a Monastery! I am for ever lost.

Let's retire, and consult how to prevent it; it grows very late, and it will be time to write, and lay my Note under the board in the Balcony. Rosania shall write it, that if my Mother should chance to find it, I may disown it: fear not, Rosania, I will contrive thy escape.

A thousand blessings on thee.

Will you never go home? Though you care not for your Reputation, I will not lose mine.

Again thy stale advice, thy Reputation! thou art a Bawd, and a foolish one.

Ah me, that I should live to see this hour: I a Bawd! out on thee; thou art a▪ Whore, and a silly one, to run up and down in this lewd manner▪ at these wicked hours; canst thou not be a Whore, and keep thy Reputation?

In short, good impertinent froward Aunt, either follow my directions, or we will part for ever.

What shall I do if she leaves me? I am ruin'd. You know my good Nature too well, you will make me grey with sorrow.

Come, come, be a good towardly Aunt, and I'le pass by all; but do you hear, fail not of getting admittance to Belliza and Elvira, and tell them the story I have instructed you in.

You ever make a fool of me thus.

Too well I know now Elvira is the cursed Object of Luscindo's Love, and the cause of his deserting me.

I see you love him still.

I hate him beyond all aversion, and will be revenged though I perish with him: Where are my Rogues? Oh, are you come?

I never broke my word in my life, do you think I have no honour in me?

Fire this house, the Villain will then come out, and you may dispatch him.

We will dispatch him, but no firing of a house; that were to make a light to be caught by.

O heaven, will you commit murder? I have contributed towards the making of many a man, and cannot in conscience consent to the destroying one.

Stir not, nor oppose me, if thou dost, by heaven I'le have thee kill'd.

Well, well, I'le say nothing, do what you will.

Here will I stand a statue at his door till he comes forth. Gentlemen, go ye and wait at the corner of the street, and when I whistle come.

Stand close, Aunt.

Go thou, dear Paper, and good luck atttend thee.

Here comes company, I shall be discover'd before my time; let us retreat to our Main-Guard.

Place the Ladder here.

Oh, here's the sweet Paper, away, dispatch, and hide the Ladder.

What do I read! I am transported beyond my self.

Was there ever so charming a creature! Ah, dear Elvira, each minute is an age, till I have got thee within these arms. Time runs too fast for every other man, but for expecting Lovers is too slow, dear happy paper.

We shall have you transported here, till your Father finds you.

Thou say'st right, let's in and bustle, as if we were putting up my Goods for Flanders.

Go, thou dear Messenger of Love, and fall into the hands of him, who alone can deserve it.

You need not go in, I'le bring you word if your Father be in bed.

Do so, Oh Elvira, let me kiss this Relique in absence of my Saint, my Joy is too great to bear.

Your Father is fast, he snores as loud as the Drone of a Bag pipe; an Alarm would not awaken him.

To our business quickly, the Balcony-door opens, 'tis near midnight.

Will Luscindo never come? I profess this is the longest night.

Hold, hold, I hear some coming this way, it must be he and his trusty Hernando.

Lord, how my heart does heave and pant, my breath grows short, and every part of me is affected with the Passion.

Is my most divine and adorable Lady there?

Divine and adorable! I warant him a fine spoken man.

Hither your own, and your Mother-in-laws importunity has brought me, noble Sir.

May I not have the liberty of entertaining you alone?

Go down to the Street-gate, and entertain Hernando at the Wic­ket, while Luscindo and I confer about our vertuous ends; and if any company comes by, give a hem.

My dearest Saint of a Mother, who would not have trusted me with a Cat, now delivers me up, for her own ends, to a Young Man in the dark.

I shall never hold out without some Aqua Mirabilis, I grow so chill, and quake. Hold, I hear Rosania's Guittar; if she discovers me I am ruin'd.

Thou Cordial of my Soul, art thou alone?

Yes, my dear, but I hear some up in the house, I'le go and secure them, and wait on thee in a moment.

My most incomparable Elvira, I know not which to ad­mire most, thy Wit or Beauty, they are both so Angel like, thou dost so much transcend the rest of all thy Sex, that they appear but splendid trifles when com­par'd to thee.

I know my self too well to apply this; all my hope is, that you have love enough to deceive your self; and since all happiness is but imagination, 'twill serve your turn as well as truth.

'Tis so real a blessing, and so great an honour, that to be King of Ar­ragon, is a less title than the love of Elvira.

This is the foolish dialect of lovers, which one who is not in love, would laugh at, and never think it were in earnest.

By heaven, I am so much in earnest, that all the happiness you have rais'd me to, will prove my utmost torment, unless you take this opportunity to compleat it.

Stand off, mistaken young man, I confess my loose carriage has de­serv'd this, but know Luscindo, that though my inclination was headstrong, that by indecent ways I sought to make my person and my passion known: Yet tho I have as much Love as ever woman had, I have as much Honour too, and the first minute of your attempt to lessen that, this poignard shall make the last of your life and mine.

Dearest Elvira, by this I find but what I knew before, That your Vertue and Honour were equal to your Wit and Beauty. I beg a thousand pardons for my rash offer, but beg you will not too far mistake me; for when I once have so impious a thought as to attempt your honour, my poignard should do you Justice on me.

Sir, pray rise, this posture does not become you to me.

Should my love to you have the least mixture of dishonour in it, I should hate my self as much as I love you.

May I believe you?

Upon the honour of a Cavalier, the compleating of the happiness which I desired, was our instant marriage; a man can no more love Elvira with disho­nour, than he can love heaven, and be vitious; it were a contradiction.

Then my dear Luscindo, I ask thy pardon, here take this chaste Embrace, and with it heart and soul; I am thine, nor is it in the power of Fate to alter me.

Hold heart, my joys come now too thick upon me.

But oh, Luscindo! I fear that all mine, and my Mothers Arts, will prove vain to procure a respite of your Journey.

Then I am lost, unless your Love be strong enough to carry you to the Noble resolution of—

What Resolution? Can you doubt my Courage?

The resolution of making an escape, and flying to some distant place.

Your faith so plighted as it is, leaves no room for doubt, in such a heart as mine; I am resolved to run all fortunes with you.

My Saint, my Angel, let me adore thee.

Come, come, talk like a Mortal, and consider of our escape.

So, I have coun'd enough, and have all my piteous Love-sick language ready. Let me see, Suns, Moons, Stars, Planets, Lightning for Eyes: Roses, Cherries, Crimson, Scarlet, Tyrian Purple, for the Spanish Wool upon the Cheeks: Snow, Lillies, Milky way, for the Skin: Rubies and Coral for the Lips: And Gums, Pearls Oriental for the Teeth: Sun-beams and Golden Tresses for the Hair, that's sandy: Fire, Flames, Fry, Burn, Wounds, Pistols, Daggers, Hal­ters, for my self; and there's an end on't.

I have secur'd all, and am return'd Noble Sir, and if you please you may proceed.

My most venerably amiable, and amiably venerable Belliza, I am come to lay my heart before you.

Most transcendently generous, and generously transcendent Luscindo, I must thank you for the passion which you bring.

A Pox on't, I do not know what to say to her. Let me see, I'll make Love in Rhime, out of Heroick Plays; 'tis even as natural here as upon the Stage.

Ha, that runs well enough.

My Noble Lindamour, I find you are an errant Courtier; now you can­not see my lustre in the dark.

He has a bewitching Tongue, but comes not to the point.

Here's company coming; at Ten to morrow Night I'll not fail to have a Coach in the back-lane. Joy of my heart, farewel.

My Life, my Soul, farewel: Hem, hem.

Good lack, she calls, I must be gone.

Hernando, here let us retire.

My dearest friend, I am infinitely obliged to you for your assi­stance.

Not at all, it is the duty of a friend.

Who are these? they go towards the Balcony: 'Sdeath! he is going up, I'le stop his proceedings.

Here's the dear Note, let me read.

Let me draw, and see who this Traitor is, and punish his insolence. Ha, Doristeo.

What lanthorn's that? let us retire.

This is the Villain, fall on.

What Villains are these?

Ah, ah, murther, murther.

Ah, cowardly Dogs.

Hah, Luscindo, I am glad it was in my power to assist you against these Villains.

Sir, I must confess I owe my life to you, let me see if I can fairly discover this Intrigue: What lucky accident brought you hither?

You are a man of honour: I shall have need of your assistance: Elvira, the daughter of this devout Widow here, is my Mistress, and has left a letter, by appointment under a loose board in her Balcony, to let me know, that as soon as it is light, her mother intends to force her to a Nunnery, and conjures me to rescue her, I may have of so gallant a mans Sword, which I know you will not deny me; there's the Note.

Oh heaven and earth, it is her hand, the same with my Note! O Devil can so much beauty have so much falshood? Draw, and defend your self; you saved my life, but have now forfeited your own: this Elvira is my mistress, whom if you resign not to me, you must die.

You mistress! resign or die! Nay, then have at you. Sancho, stir one step, and I will cut your throat.

Take your life, I now am even with you.

Accursed fortune!

Take your Sword, and say you are beholding to me.

What clashing of Swords and fighting has been here?

Let us retire from these lights.

Ungracious boy, is't you? whom have you fought with? what had you to do here? I'le pack you away for Flanders.

I must confess I was somewhat late taking leave of my Mistress, and as I was coming home, I found a Gentleman, and Two with him, he climb'd the Balcony, and I not knowing but it might be to violate the honour of your Mi­stress, Hernando and I fell upon them, disarm'd them, and gave them their lives at present.

Voto, Voto, Diabolo, why did you give them their lives? let's follow, and murther them.

They are fled out of distance, but I know the Gentleman, whom I will go to in the morning, and make him promise under his hand to make no more attempts, or I'le cut his throat.

Damnation, you foolish boy, why did you give him his life? Shall any Villain live who attempts the honour of Don Bernardo's Mistress?

I gave him his life, because I ought mine to him; for just before, I was set upon by half a dozen Bravo's, and he fought gallantly, and relieved me.

How Bravo's! what a Devil's this?

Let's in, Sir, and we'll consult what's to be done.

Come on, I am in a mist, I know not what to think on't.

IF ever life or liberty were dear to thee; if ever love enter'd thy tender breast, and thy Luscindo has possession there, pity my sad condition. Must I be buried while alive with Melancholy and Green-sick [...]s'd Nuns? your pious hypocrites and Chalk-eaters, and lose for ever my dear Doristeo? Upon my knees I beg thy help; if ever thou hadst compassion in thee, show it now.

I will, my dear Rosania, fear not, I will prevent thy going to this dreadful Nunnery.

There is but one way left: thou art intrusted by my Aunt with the keys of the house, I have appointed Dcristeo to be ready this morning, let me out, and I shall owe my life, my love, and all the world to thee.

I am intrusted, and would'st thou have me false to that trust?

'Tis to be true to love, the greatest power upon earth, oh, be not false to that.

I must consult my conscience.

Oh, look not, dear Elvira, to succeed in any of thy wishes, if thou de­sertest me now.

I will not quit thy interest.

There is no way left but this, which if thou should'st deny me, I am for ever miserable.

How knowest thou Doristeo is not wicked, and may violate thy ho­nour?

I know first, that I will part with my life before I yield my honour; be­sides, he has the reputation of a gallant man.

Well, I will strain a point for thee, and let thee out, and I wish thee all the happiness fond lovers can imagine.

Millions of blessings fall on thee, my dear, dear Elvira, author of my life; and liberty; haste, haste, lest my Aunt, or the Duoena, should surprise us. Farewel my dear, dear Elvira.

Adieu, my dear Rosania,

thou art very near thy happiness; I would I had as little difficulty; but let it be never so great, I am resolved to surmount all, for my dear Luscindo's fake.

What do you up so soon?

My concern for you, daughter, would not let me rest: I came out of my Chamber, thinking I had heard the door open; did not you hear something?

Yes: which made me come out of my Chamber.

We were deceived, the door's shut, and I have the keys in my poc­ket.

Well, this Luscindo is a charming person, he so bewitch'd me with his Tongue, my Eyes have never come together, dear daughter.

Again, daughter!

Dear Mother then, take care of me, or I am lost in the flower of my age. Hah, what knocking's that?

I know not: If some body has caught Rosania, and brought her back, both she and I am ruin'd.

Madam, yonder's the Irish Father with a grave Old Gentlewoman at the door, desire Entrance; your Ladyship has the Keys.

Here they are.

What can this mean?

I know not.

Good morning Daughters, the Saints bless ye; here is a good pious an­tient and reverend Laady that vould be after spaakeing vid dy Faaders child and dine own der gra arrah: She is a Gaallant Laady, and Lovet de Church, and is very dewout indeed, a Laady of great rank, and wertue.

Would your Ladyship have ought with me?

Are you Donna Belliza?

I am.

Your Ladyships most obedient Servant: and is this your Daughter, Madam?

It is▪

I am your Ladyships most humble servant to command.

Do you not she now she is a graat Laady of great solidity, of much breeding, good behaviours, and formalities and be?

You are then the mother, and she the daughter; good, I have somewhat to impart to both your Ladyships, which concerns me and both of ye.

She is a fine-spoken Laady as any in Madrid, no dispraise, I tell you Joy.

There is nothing so dear, so precious in the world to a Lady as her Ho­nour and Reputation; very well; and my concern for this is the occasion of my waiting upon you now: do you conceive me?

Not I, Madam, truly.

Go to: I have a Niece whom I have educated from her first budding, till she is become mature, as I may so say, and ripe for gathering, good.

She has a fine tongue truly.

Did I not shay sho to dee gra?

In this Niece did I place all my Joy, having brought her up to all the rules of strictest Vertue? right; do you understand me? Now this Niece, de conceive me, is one of the g [...]eatest beauties in Madrid; de see? well.

What is her Name?

Henrietta de Sylvia

Ab [...]o, by my shoul she is aafter telling a great lye indeed.

Now there is a Neighbour of your Ladyships, one Don Bernardo, and he has a Son named Luscindo, very good, as fine a person as the Sun e're shined on, a person, de understand me? but to go on.

Whither does her discourse tend? pray heaven he be not inconstant.

Now this Luscindo is a man of shining honour, by his Deeds in Arms, de conceive me now? what does me this Luscindo, I say, what does me he do?

What does this impertinent creature drive at?

I say, what does me he but prune himself, and strut before her window with amorous contenance and mien? very well: dogs her when she goes to Church, whispers in her ear at Mass; de see; Serenades her every night: good now, what does me she.

She has a raare shilver tongue, fait, an be, she dosh talk gaallantly by my shoulwaation:

I say, what does me she, alas, good Ladies, you cannot but conceive, that we of the frail Sex are liable, and so forth, de understand me? Good, my Neice, my poor frail Niece; alack, alack! I cannot speak for tears.

My mind misgives me; I am miserable; I scarce dare stay to hear the fatal Story.

I say, what does me my Niece but become amorous of this young char­ming person? well, gives him a meeting, signs a contract as he to her, and since he has left her for this young Lady, and has the impudence to own his new Pas­sion. My poor Niece lies distracted, tearing of her hair, bound in her bed.

Ah, ah, ah.

Oh, savage Monster, I'le not bear this vile affront; she tells it so naturally it cannot be feigned.

I vill maake testification upon Oat, dat all dis is true and shartain, fait and trot gra.

Ah, ah, Luscindo, Luscindo.

Ah me, help, help my Lady, cut her Lace, cut her Lace, get some Arsa foetida, blew Inkle, or Patridge Feathers, and burn under her Nose. I hope I did not occasion this.

By my shoul I vill fling shome holy vater in her faash, and cross it, and it vill maake cure upon her.

Dey call defe fits, but by my shoul dey are de evil Spirits dat vill get in at de mout, if vee do not ta [...]ke great caare of dem.

Oh, vile Luscindo! but heaven has justly punish'd me for leaving my Beads for the vanity of Love: Oh, holy Father, 'tis you must give me comfort, I whol­ly resign my self into your hands, and will ever give my heart to heavenly mat­ters, and retiring from the world.

Retire, Madam, into your Chamber.

I will, follow me holy man.

I am sorry to find I am the cause of so much disturbance in this good fa­mily, but I thought I was as well concern'd for the Love to my Niece, as in ho­nour to you, to let you know of Luscindo's contract; and so I kiss your hand.

Farewel Madam.

O vile Luscindo, thinkest thou that I can be content with a false title to thee, with a heart that's mortgaged to another? I will revenge this base indignity by instant marriage with thy Father this morning: Oh, false, false Luscindo!

Why, Diego, Sirrah, Drone, Bear, Dormouse, stir, Rogue; by my beard I think an Earthquake would not wake thee: why sirrah, are you in a dead sleep?

Oh, oh, I was, Sir, till you were pleas'd to call me to life, but to a wea­risome one, if you will not suffer me to take out my sleep.

Thou would'st out-sleep the seven sleepers: 'tis broad day.

I see that as well as you, Sir, and better too; for my eyes are younger.

Lazy Rascal, the Rising-Sun upbraids thy sloth.

I am sure he went to bed before me.

But sirrah, leave your prating, and tell me, did I not hear the Wicket open?

How can I tell whether you heard it? you can resolve your self much better of that than I.

Peace, thou son of a Strumpet, what have you a mind to be witty? I am confident I heard it: this lewd boy of mine has been abroad all night; I shall never rest till he be in Flanders: Sirrah, go see if my Son be in his chamber, and bring me word.

Tell my Father we have been packing up my Goods for Flanders.

I will Sir.

Is't possible Elvira should be false? How can it yet be otherwise? this Note to Doristeo is too plain a proof to leave me any room for doubt; Was e're misfortune yet like mine.

There must be some mistake, it cannot be.

Sir, there is a Letter for you from my Young Lady.

For me?

Yes, Sir. Hernando, which is Don Bernardo's apartment?

Go in there.

Hah, this is another, hand.

Ha, what means she by my falshood? This may be her mothers hand, they are afraid this dishonourable falshood with Doristeo should take air, and her mother would marry her instantly to my Father: I will go to her, and do whatever jea­lousie and fury may prompt me to.

Ho there, call all my Servants, bid 'em be ready for my Wedding, which is to be out of hand this morning. Oh my sweet Elvira. Now Youth, Stripling, now you shall see my Wedding, and let the Young Coxcomb break his heart: what care I? (aside) bid all my Servants come in to me, and sirrah, Diego, bid my Apo­thecary come, I will have a strengthening Cordial to enable me to carry my self like a man of honour.

What good will that do? she will soon find you out.

Gad take me, if I pay down a lusty Fine, she shall be content to bate of her Rent. De hear? let me have Musick, and do you get me good Kettle-Drums and Trumpets, I will have pomp as well as dispatch: Away, let all the rest of my Servants come to me.

I'le watch him coming out of his Father's house, and see how my Letter works on the persidious man. Who's yonder? the old Lady with a Young Gen­man; I suppose he is the brother or the Kinsman of her injur'd Neice.

I am extreamly pleas'd that your story caused such distraction in the fami­ly; Now you are a good Aunt.

Ay, too good for you, how can I be rewarded?

Here he is: can there be falshood in that charming person?

Here comes the Villain: Stop, Hell-hound, stop.

Oh heaven, what now will her madness prompt her to?

Now look me in the face.

Take it away, I like it not.

Audacious wretch, take that.

A fair Ladies hand can give no affront.

What, a Coward too! nay, then all must be true I have heard of him; I'le see no more, I am distracted: would I had seen a Basilisk when I saw thee.

If you give not over, I will expose you to the last degree of infamy.

Poor fool, I'le have thy Life, or make Madrid too hot for thee.

Whither will my despair hurry me? Now to my cruel and my false El­vira.

Unhappy creature, to what miseries have my too fatal eyes betray'd me? [Page 45] Had I never beheld this false Luscindo, I had rested, and undisturb'd, enjoy'd my quiet sleeps, and all the wonted calmness of my Soul; but Love, vile Love, disorder'd all my frame, and had no sooner taken possession here, but I must turn him out again. But, Oh! What sharp convulsions must I suffer, e're I dispossess this most distracting inmate? Oh Heaven! What's this!

Ah, Madam, fear not me, I can commit no violence on you: This is to execute whom you condemn: Your cruel Falshood and your Tyranny, might do it soon without the help of this.

My Falshood, vilest of men, how dare you accuse me of a black Crime which I detest and scorn, as much as I should thee, who art so evidently false, that thou hast forced me in a just resentment, to execute my self, and bury all my Youth in thy loath'd Fathers arms for my revenge.

I false! witness ye Saints in heaven, how I am injur'd: Had a blest Angel said this, I would have pronounced it a false and evil Spirit; but Doristeo has con­fess'd your falshood, show'd me your Ticket, at which I fought with him, and being sever'd in the streets, I kept your Billet to upbraid your falshood with, which here behold. And I suppose you have found this Doristeo false! and fling your self upon my Father.

Doristeo, ha, ha, ha.

Am I become your scorn, as well as your aversion? then 'tis time to fall.

You do not, Sir, from me, deserve a serious answer, that bring a heart. already vow'd to another, Henrietta de Sylvia: you find you are discover'd. I am to blame in holding this long commerce with so perfidious a man as you.

By heaven, and all the powers above, I never once heard of her Name till now; but you can write, and make a sacrifice of me, the most passionate and faithful Lover your Beauty e're shall gain, to Doristeo.

Though you deserve not any satisfaction, in vindication of my honour yet I do avow 'tis not my hand.

Nor this?

Nor that.

'Tis well you had your Confident to write, that whensoe're you pleas'd, you might disown it: Falshood to the height, then this is yours.

It is, and you deserve it from me; and I resent your injury so much, I have condemned my self to misery, perpetual misery, for my revenge. Ah! think then how I could have loved.

Could you? By Heaven, and all its Powers, I am not false, nor ever heard the Name you mention'd.

Did you not even now, part with her Aunt, and a young Gentleman, who I suppose is of her kindred? But what can I expect from one so mean, as could receive a blow?

Oh Heaven and Earth! I am the vilest Wretch, the basest Miscreant, if that young Gentleman be not one Levia, a famous Courtezan! The other Person is a Baud, her Aunt. This Courtezan unfortunately cast her love on me, and has for my neglect, and scorn of her, pursued my life.

Father Tegue introduced her Aunt to my Mother and me, and vouch'd her for a Lady of Quality, and all she said for truth.

Did you once know the vileness of that Priest, you would as soon be­lieve the Devil.

I know he is a Villain.

His story looks like truth; indeed, I cannot on second thoughts believe that he could take a blow from any man. I fear I've been too rash, and am undone. To my own honour this is due; the last Nights Note, to you, was written by my Cousin Rosania, if my Mother found it I might disown it to her. That to Do­risteo, was from, and for her self; he fell in love with her, took her for the Daughter, me for the Niece; and Rosania has carried on her correspondence with him in my Name; and this the Powers of Heaven can witness is all true.

O Heaven, what fatal accidents have hurried me even to the brink of Ruine? Low on the earth, and at your feet I will for ever lye, till you shall pardon me my base suspicion that you were false, and will believe me true.

Rise, Sir, I do.

Then am I happier than all the prosperous Monarchs of the Earth: I was plung'd into the lowest Gulf of Darkness, and now am raised to visit Light again.

Hold, not too fast, I see no prospect yet of a clear light, but Clouds and Storms about us. Our most unfortunate mistakes, have carried me so far to make the engagement to your Father, and I can see no way to break it.

How, Elvira! Those fatal Words contain my sentence, since you can be so unkind as now to think of quitting me, to make my Father happy,

Hold dear, and more than ever dear Luscindo, I am intirely yours; nor Fate, nor Time, nor Death, shall fever us.

Let me for ever hold you within these Arms, and let our Love, like to a broken Limb, grow stronger.

We have no time for Raptures, no escape can now be made; the Streets are full, and we shall soon be forced from one another.

It remains that we must do what cannot be undone, and find a Priest to join us instantly.

Here's one at hand, I must confess, a wicked one.

Most opportunely come, I'll make him him do it. Father, let us with­draw, we have some business to consult your wisdom in.

Come den, I vill do phat I can for your Fauders Child, joy; and I vil em­ploy all my visdom upon you gra.

Are all my servants ready, to wait in their best accountrements?

They are without, Sir, and Hernando is gone for a Priest, and Musick, and Kettle-Drums.

This is a joyful day, and I will celebrate it with all the pomp I can: come Washball, refresh my countenance, and take off the superfluous crop; but [Page 47] as thou lovest thy Ears, or Nose, that bolt-sprit of thy face, prophane not my in­violate Whiskers: for every single hair thou shalt diminish there, I will lop off from thee a member, sirrah.

I warrant you, Sir, I know the value of a Whisker in Madrid.

Come, Snip, Snap, begin.

How now, Springall, who art thou?

Pardon, Sir, my abrupt intrusion. I doubt not but you are so much a Cavalier as to protect a Gentleman in distress.

I am as much a Cavalier as any man; my manifold atchievements wit­ness for me, the world rings of 'em; and one thing, sprig of honour, I tell thee, no man in Madrid has more Castilian blood running in his Veins than I.

I am happy to fall into the hands of such a gallant man.

Thy story, Lad, thy story: thou art as safe here as in the Castle of Mil­lain.

I'le tell it, Sir, in whisper and in short.

Stand back all.

I have been several times of late dog'd and assaulted by Bravo's, and by the confession of one of 'em, whom I took, I found that they were hired by a Young Lady of your Neighbourhood, Elvira, daughter to Donna Belliza.

How say'st thou, stripling?

And which makes me apply my self to you, they say your Son Luscindo joyns with her in the bloody business; and except you can take him off, and get him to prevail on her, one time or other I must fall a sacrifice to their fury.

Diabolo, Elvira and my Son!

By heaven 'tis true, the fellow is here ready to testifie it; but did you know me, my honour would pass with you.

But hold stripling, why should they pursue your life?

You are a man of honour, and have promised me protection, and I'le hide nothing from you; the truth is Elvira is my Mistress, I have enjoy'd her, and she has sacrificed me to Luscindo.

Hell and damnation.

Her barbarous usage, and your generosity, will clear my honour for re­vealing this, they thinking that they cannot enjoy themselves in freedom while I live, endeavour to dispatch me, and but last night.

Last night! Furies and Devils, this must be true, I thought he had not known her.

I saw him this morning sneak into the house; she let him in, and there he was even when I enter'd here.

Where's my Sword? Come Youth, by Belzebub and all his host of Devils, thou shalt see 'em both fall by this arm, come along.

Shall I take my Clothes off.

Damn thee Nit.

Will you not put on your clothes, Sir, Sir?

I'le cut thy throat, Dog, follow me all,

Daughter, I am glad that thou art resolv'd so soon to marry; and I will leave my House to thee.

She tinks not dat I am after maaking Luscindo and you one; and now I have revenged her contumely upon mee, in putting de out-side of de door upon me. Daughter, phen dou dosht die, dou vilt be a gallant Saint indeed.

A brace of Hypocrites well met, Is this wicked woman here?

Oh, Ladies, upon my knees I humbly beg your pardon, I apprehend the mischief I have caused; I was wrought upon by my wicked Neice to tell you a story, every word of which was false; Luscindo is unblemish'd.

How! is Luscindo true?

Yes sure, but you are resolved for a Monastery.

Who tells you so? that was on supposition of his falshood. Luscindo true, then I am happy.

Did not you say, all was true?

'T was for a pious end dat I speake it.

Oh, Madam, I am undone, ruin'd, Mrs. Rosania is fled, gone out of the house, and no where to be found.

Oh heaven, I am undone, I should have sent her this day to a Monastery. Ah, who is here?

Let me go, Dogs, Rogues, Villains, Caterpillars.

Call my men-servants to help to hold him.

Where is this Strumpet Elvira, and this Son of a Whore Luscindo? They shall both fall a sacrifice to my fury. Let me go.

Hold him fast, he is distracted.

He is possesht, let me alone vid him, Joy.

Are you there, foul creature?

Benedicite, dere is shome Holy Vater in de fash of dee.

Conjuro te demonem Belzebub Satanam per

Caesare camestres festino Baraco darapti

Felapton Disamis Datisi Bocardo Farison.

Let me go, dogs, and first I will exorcize you, Rascal.

O heaven, he is possess'd, and has committed Sacriledge upon the good man.

Oh my dear Luscindo, art thou here?

Hold, hold, what is the matter? unhand my Father.

Ungracious Rascal, have at thy heart, Let me go. Oh Villain, had you and that Strumpet Elvira, none to put your vile affronts on, but on me? Must I marry your Wench, and one that was a Whore to another before?

Oh save my dear Luscindo.

If any man but my Father said this, it should be his death.

How now, Ruffian!

Let me come, he is possesht I tell dee, Exorcizo te.

Stand by, Fool.

Fool! I tink dou art possesht too, Joy, and I must exorcise dee, to call a Priest Fool, and be, aboo, boo, boo.

There's a Young Gentleman can tell, and you, base wretches, pursue his Life for't.

'Tis all true.

Hold, let me speak; If you presume that I am such a creature, you free­ly will resign me.

Resign thee to the Devil; but think not I'le sit down with this Affront; I'le be patient for a moment,

This is all false, the ancient Gentlewoman has confest it, and my Luscindo, my dear Luscindo's true. Oh vile Girl, art thou there?

Yes, Madam, I am return'd, but with another Guardian, my Doristeo.

I am come to wait upon you with my Wife; and since your denial can­not undo what is already done, I beg your consent.

I'le never give it while I live.

Hell and Furies, have I lost him too!

Pardon me, dear Luscindo, for my mistakes, and impute them to our evil fortune. You are a man of honour, and I beg your friendship.

You have shown your self a Gentleman, and I shall take it for an ho­nour to be call'd your friend.

I'le slit your Wind-pipe, and spoil your complements, sirrah.

Your fatal using of my Name, has caused such mischievous mistakes, as did go near to ruine me.

Now, dear Luscindo, we are free.

Since you are pleas'd to resign me, my Husband Luscindo, will own me with all my Faults.

Ah me, ah me! Father stand by me.

Own thee, yes, while I have life and motion, as my greatest happiness. Were this a man, I'd send his soul into another world, but 'tis a woman, a mali­cious one, and a Whore.

Heavens curses on ye all, here take my Life, and I shall thank you for it.

Keep it to be a torment to thee.

Most violent Love, and invincible impotence, possess thee, and continual rage and jealousie her; and so with curses on ye all, farewell.

Devil, what has my rashness brought me to? I could kill the dog; but let me think on some firm and lasting vengeance. I have it.

Oh Father, I wholly now give my self up to a Cloister'd Life.

Daat is my good daughter.

If you can forgive your poor Soldier, Bernardo, who finds that you alone are worthy of him, I return to my first Love, and am ready, dear Widow, to con­summate, without more delay.

What says he? are you in earnest?

Out, phat dosht dou do now? dou vilt not hearken to the tempter gra▪

Lady, I seldom kneel, Lady, but in this posture humbly beg you to re­ceive me.

To show I am in charity with all the world, and can forgive, I receive you as my husband.

A thousand blessings on thee, my dear Widow, Sirrah, Young Rogue, I will get every year a child these twenty years, and make thy heart ake.

I wish you Joy, Sir,

Much Joy, Madam.

Go, perfidious wretch, thee I will ne're forgive.

Hold, hold, I do forbid the Baanes: dou vert espous'd unto the Church first, and that does dirimere contractum, & irritum reddere sponsalia.

Well said Priest, with false Latin.

Sirrah, Priest, if you do forbid the Banes, I will cut your throat. Do you hear? You that were my unlawful Pimp, and joyn'd me to many Whores in Flanders, shall be my lawful Pimp, and joyn me to one Wife in Madrid, or by Heaven I will exorcise you with a vengeance.

Vel, vel, shay no more Joy, I vill do phat dou spakest. By my shoul I will pronounce the words of de maarriage without intention, and den it is no maarriage, and all deir posterity vill be aafter being Bashtards, as all de School men say; and by my shoulwaation dere is a trick for dem.

Now dear Elvira, may our mutual Love shine clear, without one cloud upon it. Heaven let me but possess my dear Elvira,