-and the less forward to oblige you. You have indeed forbad me your sight, but your vanity, even then, assured you I would return, and I was fool enough to feed your pride.-Your eyes, with all their boasted charms, have acquired their greatest glory in conquering mebrightest passage of your life is wounding this heart with such arms as pierce but few persons of my rank. [Walks about in a great pet. Vio. Matchless arrogance! True, sir, I should have kept measures better with you, if the conquest had been worth preserving; but we easily hazard what gives us no pain to lose.As for my eyes, you are mistaken if you think they have vanquished none but you: there are men, above your boasted rank, who have confessed their power, when their misfortune in pleasing you made them obtain such a disgraceful victory. Fel. Yes, madam, I am no stranger to your victories. Vio. And what you call the brightest passage of my life, is not the least glorious part of yours. Fel. Ha, ha! don't put yourself in a passion, madam; for, I assure you, after this day, I shall give you no trouble. You may meet your sparks on the Terriero de Passa at four in the morning, without the least regard to me--for, when I quit your chamber, the world shan't bring me back. Vio. I am so well pleased with your resolution, I don't care how soon you take your leave. -But what you mean by the Terriero de Passa at four in the morning, I can't guess. Fel. No, no, no! not you. -You was not upon the Terriero de Passa at four this morning! Vio. No, I was not; but if I were, I hope I may walk where I please, and at what hour I please, without asking your leave. Fel. Oh, doubtless, madam! and you might meet colonel Briton there, and afterwards send your emissary to fetch him to your house-and, upon your father's coming in, thrust him into your bed-chamber-without asking my leave. Tis no business of mine, if you are exposed among all the footmen in town-uay, if they ballad you, and cry you about at a halfpenny a piece-they may, without my leave. Vio. Audacious! don't provoke me-don't: my reputation is not to be sported with [Going up to him.] at this rate- -no, sir, it is not. [Bursts into tears.] Inhuman Felix!- -Oh, Isabella! what a train of ills hast thou brought on me! [Aside. Fel. Ha! I cannot bear to see her weep-a woman's tears are far more fatal than our swords. [Aside.] Oh, Violante-'Sdeath! what a dog am I! Now have I no power to stir.Dost not thou know such a person as colonel Briton? Prithee tell me, didst not thou meet him at four this morning upon the Terriero de Passa? Vio. Were it not to clear my fame, I would not answer thee, thou black ingrate!—but I cannot bear to be reproached with what I even blush to think of---much less to act. By Heaven, I have not seen the Terriero de Passa this day. Fel. Did not a Scotch footman attack you in the street neither, Violante? Vio. Yes; but he mistook me for another-or he was drunk, I know not which. Fel. And do not you know this Scotch colonel? Vio. Pray, ask me no more questions: this night shall clear my reputation, and leave you without excuse for your base suspicions. More than this I shall not satisfy you; therefore, pray leave me. Fel. Didst thou ever love me, Violante? Vio. I'll answer nothing- -You was in haste to be gone just now; I should be very well pleased to be alone, sir. [She sits down, and turns aside. Fel. I shall not long interrupt your contemplation.- -Stubborn to the last! [Aside. Vio. Did ever woman involve herself as I have done! Fel. Now would I give one of my eyes to be friends with her, for something whispers to my soul, she is not guilty.[He pauses, then pulls a chair, and sits by her at a little distance, looking at her some time without speaking, then draws a little nearer to her.] Give me your hand at parting however, Violante, won't you[He lays his hand upon her knee several times.] won't you -won't you-won't you! Vio. [Half regarding him.] Won't I do what? Fel. You know what I would have, Violante. Oh, my heart! Vio. [Smiling.] I thought my chains were easily broke. [Lays her hand into his. Fel. [Draws his chair close to her, and kisses her hand in a rapture.] Too well thou knowest thy strength.- -Oh, my charming angel! my heart is all thy own. Forgive my hasty passion 'tis the transport of a love sincere. Oh, Violante, Violante! DON PEDRO, within. Ped. Bid Sancho get a new wheel to my cha riot presently. Vio. Bless me, my father returned! What shall we do now, Felix? we are ruined past redemption. Fel. No, no, no, my love; I can leap from the closet window. [Runs to the door where ISABELLA is, who claps to the door, and bolts it withinside. Isa. [Peeping.] Say you so? But I shall prevent you. Fel. Confusion! Somebody bolts the door withinside. I'll see who you have concealed here, if I die for it. Oh, Violante! hast thou again sacrificed me to my rival? [Draws. Vio. By Heaven, thou hast no rival in my heart! | much from the character of a gentleman, I assure let that suffice-Nay, sure, you will not let my father find you here-Distraction! Fel. Indeed, but I shall-except you command this door to be opened, and that way conceal me from his sight. [He struggles with her to come at the door. Vio. Hear me, Felix-Though I were sure the refusing what you ask would separate us for ever, by all that's powerful you shall not enter here! Either you do love me, or you do not: convince me by your obedience. Fel. That's not the matter in debate—I will know who is in this closet, let the consequence be what it will. Nay, nay, you strive in vain : II will go in. Vio. Thou shalt not go Enter DON PEDRO. Ped. Hey-day! what's here to do? I will go in, and you shan't go in-and I will go inWhy, who are you, sir? Fel. 'Sdeath! what shall I say now? Ped. Don Felix, pray, what's your business in my house? ha, sir? Vio. Oh, sir, what miracle returned you home so soon? some angel 'twas that brought my father back to succour the distressed.This ruffian, he-I cannot call him gentleman-has committed such an uncommon rudeness, as the most profligate wretch would be ashamed to own. Fel. Ha! what the devil does she mean? [Aside Vio. As I was at my devotion in my closet, I heard a loud knocking at my door, mixed with a woman's voice, which seemed to imply she was in danger Fel. I am confounded! [Aside. Vio. I flew to the door with the utmost speed, where a lady, veiled, rushed in upon me; who, falling on her knees, begged my protection from a gentleman, who, she said, pursued her. I took compassion on her tears, and locked her into this closet; but, in the surprise, having left open the door, this very person whom you see with his sword drawn, ran in, protesting, if I did not give her up to his revenge, he'd force the door. you. Fel. [Counterfeits drunkenness.] Who, I assault a lady upon honour, the lady assaulted me, sir, and would have seized this body-politic on the king's high-way-Let her come out, and deny it, if she can.-Pray, sir, command the door to be opened; and let her prove me a liar, if she knows how-I have been drinking Claret, and Champaign, and Burgundy, and other French wines, sir; but I love my own country, for all that. Ped. Ay, ay, who doubts it, sir? Open the door, Violante, and let the lady come out. Come, warrant thee he shan't hurt her. Fel. No, no; I won't hurt the dear creature. Enter ISABELLA, veiled, and crosses the stage. Fel. The devil!-a woman!-I'll see if she be really so. [Exit. [Aside. Vio. [To FELIX.] Get clear of my father, and follow me to the Terriero de Passa, where all mistakes shall be rectified. [Exit with ISABELLA. DON FELIX offers to follow her. Ped. [Drawing his sword.] Not a step, sir, till the lady is past your recovery; I never suffer the laws of hospitality to be violated in my house, sir. -I'll keep Don Felix here, till you see her safe out, Violante.-Come, sir, you and I will take a pipe and a bottle together. Fel. Damn your pipe, and damn your bottle! I hate drinking and smoking; and how will you help yourself, old whiskers? Ped. As to smoking or drinking, you have your liberty; but you shall stay, sir. Fel. But I won't stay-for I don't like your company; besides, I have the best reason in the world, for my not staying. Ped. Ay, what's that? Fel. Why, I am going to be married; and so, good bye. Ped. To be married!-it can't be. Why, you are drunk, Felix. Fel. What, in the name of goodness, does she mean to do? hang me? [Aside. Vio. I strove with him, till I was out of breath; and had you not come as you did, he must have Fel. Drunk! ay, to be sure; you don't think entered-But he's in drink, I suppose; or he'd go to be married, if I were sober—but, could not have been guilty of such an indecorum. drunk or sober, I am going to be married, for all [Leering at FELIX. that—and if you won't believe me, to convince you, I'll show you the contract, old gentleman. Ped. Ay, do; come, let's see this contract, Ped. I'm amazed! Fel. The devil never failed a woman at a pinch-what a tale has she formed in a minute! In drink, quotha! a good hint: I'll lay hold on't to bring myself off. [Aside. Ped. Fy! Don Felix!-no sooner rid of one broil, than you are commencing another.-To assault a lady with a naked sword, derogates then. the contract. Fel. Yes, yes; I'll shew you the contractI'll shew you the contract- -Here, sir-here's [Draws a pistol. Ped. [Starting.] Well, well, I'm convincedgo, go-pray go, and be married, sir, Fel. Yes, yes; I'll go-I'll go and be married; | have an hankering kindness after the slut-we but shan't we take a bottle, first? must be reconciled. Ped. No, no-pray, dear sir, go, and be married. Fel. Very well, very well; [Going.] but I insist upon your taking one glass, though. Ped. No, not now-some other time-consider the lady waits. Fel. What a cross old fool! first he will, and then he won't; and then he will, and then he won't. [Exit. Enter Servant. Ser. Here's Don Lopez de Pimentell to wait on you, senior. Ped. What the devil does he want? he is not going to be married, too! Bring him up; he's in pursuit of his son, I suppose. Enter DON LOPEZ. Lop. I am glad to find you at home, Don Pedro-I was told that you was upon the road to Don Juan's chateau this afternoon, Ped. That might be, my lord; but I had the misfortune to break the wheel of my chariot, which obliged me to return. -What is your pleasure with me, my lord? Lop. I am informed that my daughter is in your house. Ped. That's more than I know, my lord; but here was your son, just now, as drunk as an emperor. Lop. My son drunk!-I never saw him in drink in my life.-Where is he, pray, sir? Ped. Gone to be married. Lop. Married!-to whom!-I don't know that he courted any body. Ped. Nay, I know nothing of that-but, I'm sure, he showed me the contract-Within, there! Enter Servant. Enter GIBBY. Gib. Aw my sal, sir, but Ise blithe to find ye here now. Lis. Ha, brother! give me thy hand, boy. Gib. No se fast, se ye me-Brether me ne brethers; I scorn a leer as muckle as a thiefe, se ye now, and ye must gang intul this house with me, and justifie to Donna Violante's face, that she was the lady that ganged in here this morn, se ye me, or the deel ha my saul, sir, but ye and I shall be twa folks. Lis. Justify it to Donna Violante's face, quotha! For what? Sure you don't know what you say. Gib. Troth de I, sir, as weel as ye dee; therefore, come along, and make na mair words about it. Lis. Why, what the devil do ye mean? Don't you consider you are in Portugal? Is the fellow mad? Gib. Fellow! Ise none of yer fellow, sir; and gin the place were hell, I'd gar ye do me justice. [LISSARDO going.] Nay, the deel a fit ye gang. [Lays hold of him, and knocks. Lis. Ha! Don Pedro himself: I wish I were fairly off. [Aside. Enter DON PEDRO. Ped. How now? What makes you knock so loud? Gib. Gin this be Don Pedro's house, sir, I would speak with Donna Violante, his daughter. Ped. Ha! what is it you want with my daughter, pray? Gib. An she be your daughter, and lik your honour, command her to come out, and answer for herself now, and either justify or disprove Bid my daughter come hither; she'll tell you an- what this chield told me this morn. other story, my lord. Ser. She's gone out in a chair, sir. Ped. Out in a chair!-what do you mean, sir? Ser. As I say, sir-and Donna Isabella went in another just before her. Lop. Isabella! Ser. And Don Felix followed in another-I overheard them all bid the chair go to the Terriero de Passa. Ped. Ha! what business has my daughter there? I am confounded, and know not what to think—within there. [Exit. Lop. My heart misgives me plaguily. -Call me an alguazil—I'll pursue them straight. [Exit. SCENE III-Changes to the street before DoN PEDRO's house. Enter LISSARDO. Lis. I wish I could see Flora-methinks I Lis. So, here will be a fine piece of work! [Aside. Ped. Why, what did he tell you, ha? Gib. By my saul, sir, Ise tell you aw the truth. -My master got a pratty lady upon the how de call't-Passa-here at five this morn, and he gar'd me watch her heam—and, in troth, lodged her here; and, meeting this ill-favoured thiefe, se ye me, I speered wha she was-and he tald me her name was Donna Violante, Don Pedro de Mendosa's daughter. Ped. Ha! my daughter with a man, abroad at five in the morning! Death, hell, and furies! By St Anthony, I'm undone ! Gib. Wounds, sir! ye put yer saint intul bonny company. Ped. Who is your master, you dog you? Adsheart, I shall be tricked of my daughter and money, too, that's worst of all. Gib. You dog you! 'Sblead, sir! dinna ca names—I wunna tell you who my master is, se ye, my thoughts were not over-strong for a nunnery, me now? father. Lop. Your daughter has played you a slippery trick, too, signior. Ped. But your son shall never be the better for it, my lord; her twenty thousand pounds was left on certain conditions, and I'll not part with a shilling. Lop. But we have a certain thing, called law, shall make you do justice, sir. Ped. Well, we'll try that-my lord, much good may it do you with your daughter-in-law. [Exit, Lop. I wish you much joy of your rib. [Exit, Enter FREDERICK. Fel. Frederick, welcome!-I sent for thee to be partaker of my happiness; and pray give me leave to introduce you to the cause of it. Fred. Your messenger has told me all, and I sincerely share in all your happiness. Col. To the right about, Frederick; wish thy friend joy. Fred. I do, with all my soul-and, madam, I congratulate your deliverance.-Your suspicions are cleared now, I hope, Felix? Fel. They are; and I heartily ask the colonel pardon, and wish him happy with my sister; for love has taught me to know, that every man's happiness consists in choosing for himself. Lis. After that rule, I fix here. [TO FLORA. Flo. That's your mistake; I prefer my lady's right and title to you to-day. Lis. Choose, proud fool! I sha'nt ask you twice. Lop. So, have I found you, daughter? Then service, and turn you over to her that pleaded you have not hanged yourself yet, I see. Col. But she is married, my lord. Lop. Married! Zounds! to whom? Col. Even to your humble servant, my lord. If you please to give us your blessing. [Kneels. Lop. Why, hark ye, mistress, are you really married? Isa. Really so, my lord. Col. An honest North Briton by birth, and a colonel by commission, my lord. Lop. An heretic! the devil! [Holding up his hands. Ped. She has played you a slippery trick, indeed, my lord.-Well, my girl, thou hast been to see thy friend married-next week thou shalt have a better husband, my dear. [TO VIOLANTE. Fel. Next week is a little too soon, sir; I hope to live longer than that. Ped. What do you mean, sir? You have not made a rib of my daughter, too, have you? Vio. Indeed but he has, sir; I know not how, but he took me in an unguarded minute-when Gib. What say ye now, lass?-will ye gee yer hond to poor Gibby?-What say you? will you dance the reel of Bogie with me? Inis. That I may not leave my lady, I take you at your word; and, though our wooing has been short, I'll, by her example, love you dearly. [Music plays. Fel. Hark! I hear the music; somebody has done us the favour to call them in. [A country-dance, -How Gib. Wounds, this is bonny music!caw ye that thing that ye pinch by the craig, and tickle the weamb, and make it cry grum, grum? Fred. Oh! that's a guitar, Gibby. Fel. Now, my Violante, I shall proclaim thy virtues to the world. Let us no more thy sex's conduct blame, [Exeunt omnes. VOL. II. 4 C in the cellar last night, that I'm afraid he'll sour all the beer in my barrels. Coach. Why, then, John, we ought to take it off as fast as we can.-Here's to you. He rattled so loud under the tiles last night, that I verily thought the house would have fallen over our heads. I durst not go up into the cock-loft this morning, if I had not got one of the maids to go along with me. Enter the BUTLER, COACHMAN, and GARDENER. But. There came another coach to town last night, that brought a gentleman to inquire about this strange noise we hear in the house. This spirit will bring a power of custom to the George. -If so be he continues his pranks, I design to sell a pot of ale, and set up the sign of the drum. Coach. I'll give madam warning, that's flat- Gard. I thought I heard him in one of my I've always lived in sober families-I'll not dis-bed-posts. I marvel, John, how he gets into the parage myself to be a servant in a house that is house, when all the gates are shut! haunted. But. Why, look ye, Peter, your spirit will Gard. I'll e'en marry Nell, and rent a bit of creep you into an augre-hole-he'll whisk ground of my own, if both of you leave madam; ye through a key-hole, without so much as justnot but that madam is a very good woman, ifling against one of the wards. Mrs Abigail did not spoil her.- -Come, here's her health. But. 'Tis a very hard thing to be a butler in a house that is disturbed. He made such a racket Coach. Poor madam is mainly frighted, that's certain; and verily believes it is my master, that was killed in the last campaign. But. Out of all manner of question, Robin, |