(Aside.)

Pedro (Within.) Violante, where are you Child? (Enter Don Pedro.) Why, how came the Garden Door open? Ha! How now; who have we here?

Vio. Humph, he'll certainly discover him. (Aside.)

Flo. 'Tis my Mother, and please you, Sir. (She and Felix both curtesy.)

Pedro. Your Mother! By St. Anthony she's a Strapper; why, you are a Dwarf to her.—How many Children have you, good Woman?

Vio. Oh! if he speaks we are lost. (Aside.)

Flo. Oh! Dear Senior, she can't hear you; she has been deaf these twenty Years.

Pedro. Alas, poor Woman.—Why you muffle her up as if she were blind too.

Fel. Wou'd I were fairly off. (Aside.)

Pedro. Turn up her Hood.

Vio. Undone for ever.—St. Anthony forbid: Oh, Sir, she has the dreadfullest unlucky Eyes.—Pray don't look upon them; I made her keep her Hood shut on purpose.—Oh, oh, oh!

Pedro. Eyes! Why what's the Matter with her Eyes?

Flo. My poor Mother, Sir, is much afflicted with the Cholick; and about two Months ago she had it grievously in her Stomach, and was over-persuaded to take a Dram of filthy English Geneva.—Which immediately flew up into her Head, and caus'd such a Defluxion in her Eyes, that she cou'd never since bear the Day-light.

Pedro. Say you so—Poor Woman!—Well, make her sit down, Violante, and give her a Glass of Wine.

Vio. Let her Daughter give her a Glass below, Sir; for my part she has frighted me so, I shan't be myself these two Hours. I am sure her Eyes are evil Eyes.

Fel. Well hinted.

Pedro. Well, well, do so; evil Eyes, there is no evil Eyes, Child.

[Exit Felix and Flora.

Vio. I am glad he's gone.

Pedro. Hast thou heard the News, Violante?

Vio. What News, Sir?

Pedro. Why, Vasquez tells me, that Don Lopez's Daughter Isabella, is run away from her Father; that Lord has very ill Fortune with his Children.—Well, I'm glad my Daughter has no Inclination to Mankind; that my House is plagu'd with no Suitors. (Aside.)

Vio. This is the first Word I ever heard of it; I pity her Frailty.—

Pedro. Well said, Violante.—Next week I intend thy Happiness shall begin.

Enter Flora.

Vio. I don't intend to stay so long, I thank you Papa. (Aside.)

Pedro. My Lady Abbess writes Word she longs to see thee, and has provided every Thing in order for thy Reception.—Thou wilt lead a happy Life, my Girl.—Fifty Times before that of Matrimony; where an extravagant Coxcomb might make a Beggar of thee, or an ill-natur'd surly Dog break thy Heart.

Flo. Break her Heart! She had as good have her Bones broke as to be a Nun; I am sure I had rather of the two.—You are wondrous kind, Sir; but if I had such a Father, I know what I would do.

Pedro. Why, what wou'd you do Minx, ha?

Flo. I wou'd tell him I had as good Right and Title to the Laws of Nature, and the End of the Creation, as he had.—

Pedro. You wou'd, Mistress; who the Devil doubts it? A good Assurance is a Chamber-maid's Coat of Arms; and lying, and contriving, the Supporters.—Your Inclinations are on the Tip-toe it seems—If I were your Father, Housewife, I'd have a Pennance enjoyn'd you, so strict that you should not be able to turn you in your Bed for a Month—You are enough to spoil your Lady, Housewife, if she had not abundance of Devotion.

Vio. Fye, Flora; Are not you asham'd to talk thus to my Father? You said, Yesterday, you wou'd be glad to go with me into the Monastery.

Pedro. She go with thee! No, no, she's enough to debauch the whole Convent—Well, Child, remember what I said to thee; next Week—

Vio. Ay, and what am I to do this too.—(Aside.) I am all Obedience, Sir; I care not how soon I change my Condition.

Flo. But little does he think what Change she means. (Aside.)

Pedro. Well said, Violante—I am glad to find her so willing to leave the World, but it is wholly owing to my prudent Management; did she know that she might command her Fortune when she came at Age, or upon the Day of Marriage, perhaps she'd change her Note.—But I have always told her that her Grandfather left it with this Proviso, that she turned Nun; now a small Part of this twenty thousand Pounds provides for her in the Nunnery, and the rest is my own; there is nothing to be got in this Life without Policy. (Aside.) Well, Child, I am going into the Country for two or three Days, to settle some Affairs with thy Uncle.—And then—Come help me on with my Cloak, Child.

Vio. Yes, Sir.

[Exit Pedro and Violante.

Flo. So now for the Colonel. (Goes to the Chamber-Door) Hist, hist, Colonel. (Colonel peeping.)

Col. Is the Coast clear?

Flo. Yes, if you can climb; for you must get over the Wash-House, and jump from the Garden-Wall into the Street.

Col. Nay, nay, I don't value my Neck if my Incognita answers but thy Lady's Promise.

[Exit Col. and Flora.

Re-enter Pedro and Violante.

Pedro. Good by, Violante, take care of thyself, Child.

Vio. I wish you a good Journey, Sir,—Now to set my Prisoner at Liberty.

Enter Felix behind Violante.

Fel. I have lain perdue under the Stairs, till I watch'd the old Man out.

Vio. So, Sir, you may appear.

[Goes to the Door.

Fel. May he so, Madam?—I had Cause for my Suspicion, I find, treacherous Woman.

Vio. Ha, Felix here! Nay, then, all's discover'd.

Fel. (Draws.) Villain, whoe'er thou art, come out I charge thee, and take the Reward of thy adulterous Errand.

Vio. What shall I say?—Nothing but the Secret which I have sworn to keep can reconcile this Quarrel. (Aside.)

Fel. A Coward! Nay, then I'll fetch you out, think not to hide thyself; no, by St. Anthony, an Altar should not protect thee, even there I'd reach thy Heart, tho' all the Saints were arm'd in thy Defence.

[Exit.

Vio. Defend me Heaven! What shall I do? I must discover Isabella, or here will be Murder.—

Enter Flora.

Flo. I have help'd the Colonel off clear, Madam.

Vio. Say'st thou so, my Girl? then I am arm'd.

Re-enter Felix.

Fel. Where has the Devil in Compliance to your Sex convey'd him from my just Resentments?

Vio. Him, who do you mean, my dear inquisitive Spark? Ha, ha, ha, will you never leave these jealous Whims?

Fel. Will you never cease to impose upon me?

Vio. You impose upon yourself, my Dear; do you think I did not see you? Yes, I did, and resolved to put this Trick upon you; I knew you'd take the Hint, and soon relapse into your wonted Error: How easily your Jealousy is fired! I shall have a blessed Life with you.

Fel. Was there nothing in it then, but only to try me?

Vio. Won't you believe your Eyes?

Fel. No, because I find they have deceived me; well, I am convinc'd that Faith is as necessary in Love as in Religion; for the Moment a Man lets a Woman know her Conquest, he resigns his Senses, and sees nothing but what she'd have him.

Vio. And as soon as that Man finds his Love return'd, she becomes as errant a Slave, as if she had already said after the Priest.

Fel. The Priest, Violante would dissipate those Fears which cause these Quarrels; when wilt thou make me happy?

Vio. To-morrow, I will tell thee; my Father is gone for two or three Days to my Uncle's, we have Time enough to finish our Affairs—But prithee leave me now, for I expect some Ladies to visit me.

Fel. If you command it.—Fly swift ye Hours, and bring To-morrow on.—You desire I wou'd leave you, Violante.

Vio. I do at present.

Fel.

So much you reign the Sovereign of my Soul,
That I obey without the least Controul.

[Exit.

Enter Isabella.

Isab. I am glad my Brother and you are reconcil'd, my Dear, and the Colonel escap'd without his Knowledge; I was frighted out of my Wits when I heard him return.—I know not how to express my Thanks, Woman—for what you suffer'd for my Sake, my grateful Acknowledgments shall ever wait you; and to the World proclaim the Faith, Truth, and Honour of a Woman.—

Vio. Prithee don't compliment thy Friend, Isabella.—You heard the Colonel, I suppose?

Isab. Every Syllable, and am pleas'd to find I do not love in vain.

Vio. Thou hast caught his Heart, it seems; and an Hour hence may secure his Person.—Thou hast made hasty Work on't, Girl.

Isab. From hence I draw my Happiness, we shall have no Accounts to make up after Consummation.

She who for Years, protracts her Lover's Pain,
And makes him wish, and wait, and sigh in vain,
To be his Wife, when late she gives Consent,
Finds half his Passion was in Courtship spent;
Whilst they who boldly all Delays remove,
Find every Hour a fresh Supply of Love.

ACT V.

SCENE, Frederick's House.

Enter Felix and Frederick.

Fel. This Hour has been propitious, I am reconcil'd to Violante, and you assure me Antonio is out of Danger.

Fred. Your Satisfaction is doubly mine.

Enter Lissardo.

Fel. What Haste you made, Sirrah, to bring me Word if Violante went home?

Liss. I can give you very good Reasons for my Stay, Sir—Yes, Sir, she went home.

Fred. O! Your Master knows that, for he has been there himself, Lissardo.

Liss. Sir, may I beg the Favour of your Ear?

Fel. What have you to say?

[Whispers, and Felix seems uneasy.

Fred. Ha, Felix changes Colour at Lissardo's News. What can it be?

Fel. A Scots Footman, that belongs to Colonel Britton, an Acquaintance of Frederick's, say you? the Devil! If she be false, by Heaven I'll trace her. Prithee, Frederick, do you know one Colonel Britton, a Scotsman?

Fred. Yes, why do you ask me?

Fel. Nay, no great Matter; but my Man tells me that he has had some little Difference with a Servant of his, that's all.

Fred. He is a good harmless innocent Fellow, I am sorry for it; the Colonel lodges in my House, I knew him formerly in England, and met him here by Accident last Night, and gave him an Invitation home; he is a Gentlemen of a good Estate, besides his Commission; of excellent Principles, and strict Honour, I assure you.

Fel. Is he a Man of Intrigue?

Fred. Like other Men, I suppose, here he comes—

Enter Colonel.

Colonel, I began to think I had lost you.

Col.—And not without some Reasons, if you knew all.

Fel. There's no Danger of a fine Gentleman's being lost in this Town, Sir.

Col. That Compliment don't belong to me, Sir. But I assure you I have been very near being run away with.

Fred. Who attempted it?

Col. Faith, I know her not—Only that she is a charming Woman, I mean as much as I saw of her.

Fel. My Heart swells with Apprehension.—Some accidental Rencounter.

Fred. A Tavern, I suppose, adjusted the Matter.—

Col. A Tavern! No, no, Sir, she is above that Rank, I assure you; this Nymph sleeps in a Velvet Bed, and Lodgings every Way agreeable.

Fel. Ha, a Velvet Bed!—I thought you said but now, Sir, you knew her not.

Col. No more I don't, Sir.

Fel. How came you then so well acquainted with her Bed?

Fred. Ay, ay, come, come, unfold.

Col. Why then you must know, Gentlemen, that I was convey'd to her Lodgings, by one of Cupid's Emissaries, call'd a Chambermaid, in a Chair, thro' fifty blind Alleys, who, by the help of a Key, let me into a Garden.

Fel. S'Death, a Garden, this must be Violante's Garden. (Aside.)

Col. From thence conducted me into a spacious Room, then dropt me a Courtesy, told me her Lady would wait on me presently; so, without unvailing, modestly withdrew.

Fel. Damn her Modesty; this was Flora. (Aside.)

Fred. Well, how then Colonel?

Col. Then Sir, immediately from another Door issued forth a Lady, arm'd at both Eyes; from whence such Showers of Darts fell round me, that had I not been cover'd with the Shield of another Beauty, I had infallibly fall'n a Martyr to her Charms; for you must know I just saw her Eyes: Eyes, did I say? No, no, hold, I saw but one Eye, tho' I suppose it had a Fellow, equally as killing.

Fel. But how came you to see her Bed, Sir? S'Death, this Expectation gives a thousand Racks. (Aside.)

Col. Why, upon her Maid's giving Notice her Father was coming, she thrust me into the Bed-Chamber.

Fel. Upon her Father's coming?

Col. Ay, so she said; but putting my Ear to the Keyhole of the Door, I found it was another Lover.

Fel. Confound the jilt! 'Twas she without Dispute. (Aside.)

Fred. Ah poor Colonel, ha, ha, ha.

Col. I discover'd they had had a Quarrel, but whether they were reconcil'd or not, I can't tell, for the second Alarm brought the Father in good earnest, and had like to have made the Gentleman and I acquainted, but she found some other Stratagem to convey him out.

Fel. Contagion seize her, and make her Body ugly as her Soul. There's nothing left to doubt of now,—'Tis plain 'twas she—Sure he knows me, and takes this Method to insult me; S'Death, I cannot bear it. (Aside.)

Fred. So, when she had dispatched her old Lover, she paid you a Visit in her Bed-Chamber, ha, Colonel?

Col. No, Pox take the impertinent Puppy, he spoil'd my Diversion, I saw her no more.

Fel. Very fine; give me Patience, Heaven, or I shall burst with Rage. (Aside.)

Fred. That was hard.

Col. Nay, what was worse, the Nymph that introduced me convey'd me out again over the Top of a high Wall, where I ran the Danger of having my Neck broke, for the Father, it seems, had lock'd the Door by which I enter'd.

Fel. That Way I miss'd him:—Damn her Invention. (Aside).