Oct. Don Philip!

D. Phi. Dear Octavio! Oct. What lucky point of the compass could blow us to one another so?

D. Phi. Faith a wind very contrary to my inclination; but the worst, I see, blows some good. I am overjoyed to see you. But what makes you so far from the army?

Oct. Who thought to have found you so far from Seville?

D. Phi. What do you do at Madrid? Oct. Oh, friend, such an unfortunate occasion, and yet such a lucky discovery! such a mixture of joy and torment, no poor dog upon earth was ever plagued with.

D. Phi. Unriddle, pray.

Oct. Don't you remember, about six months ago, I wrote you word of a dear, delicious, sprightly creature, that I had bombarded for a whole summer to no purpose?

D. Phi. I remember.

Oct. That same silly, stubborn, charming angel, now capitulates.

D. Phi. Then she's taken.

Oct. I can't tell that; for, you must know, her perfidious father, contrary to his treaty with me, and her inclination, is going to

D. Phi. Marry her to another

Oct. Of a better estate than mine, it seems. She tells me here, he is within a day's march of her; begs me to come upon the spur to her relief; and, if I don't arrive too late, confesses she loves me well enough to open the gates, and let me enter the town before him. There's her express, read it

her.

Hyp. This was a lucky discovery-but hush. D. Phi. What will you do in this case? Oct. That I don't yet know: I am half distracted; I have just sent my servant to tell her I am come to town, and beg an opportunity to speak with her; I long to see her; I warrant the poor fool will be so soft and so humble, now she's in a fright.

D. Phi. What will you purpose at your meeting her ?

Oct. I don't know; may be another meeting; at least it will come to a kind look, a kiss, good bye, and a sigh—Ah, if I can but persuade her to run away with me!

D. Phi. Consider

Oct. Ah, so I do! What pleasure 'twould be, to have her steal out of her bed in a sweet moonshiny night; to hear her come pat, pat, pat, along in her slippers, with nothing but a thin silk night-gown loose about her, and in this tempting dress, to have her jump into my arms, breathless with fear; her panting bosom close to rnine; then to stifle her with kisses, and curl myself about her smooth warm limbs, that breathe an healing odour from their pores, enough to make the senses ache, or fancy mad!

D. Phi. Octavio, I envy thee; thou art the happiest man in thy temper

Oct. And thou art the most altered I ever knew. Pr'ythee, what makes thee so much upon the humdrum? Well, are my sister and you come to a right understanding yet? When do you marry y?

Hyp. So, now I shall have my picture by another hand.

D. Phi. My condition, Octavio, is very much

the Balcony.

Hyp. Hark! they are talking of a mistresslet us observe.

Flo. Trappanti, there's your old master. Trap. Ay, I know him again; but I may chance to tell him, he did not know a good servant when he had him.

D. Phi. [Reads. ] ، My father has concluded a match for me with one I never saw, and intends, in two days, to perfect it : the gentleman ' is expected every hour. In the mean time, if " you know any friend that has a better title to me, advise him forthwith to put in his claim. I am almost out of my senses, which you will easily believe when I tell you, if such a one 'should make haste, I sha'nt have time to refuse 'him any thing.'

Hyp. How is this? D. Phi. No name?

Oct. She never would trust it in a letter.
Flo. If this should be Don Philip's mistress ?
Trap. Sir, you may take my word it is: I

man she never saw, and I the woman.

Oct. 'Sdeath, you make ine tremble! I hope 'tis not my mistress.

D. Phi. Thy mistress! that were an idle fear; Madrid's a wide place-or if it were, (she loving you) my friendship and my honour would oblige me to desist.

Oct. That's generous, indeed! but still you amaze me! Are you quite broke off with my sister? I hope she has given you no reason to forget her.

Hyp. Now, I tremble.

D. Phi. The most severe that ever beauty printed in the heart of man; a coldness unaccountable to sense.

leaving her; 'tis her nature; I know her from her bib and baby: I remember, at five years old, the vixen has fasted three days together, in pure spite to her governess. Hyp. So!

Oct. Nothing could ever, in appearance, make her pleased or angry; always too proud to be obliged, too high to be affronted, and thought nothing so low as to seem fond of revenge: she had a stomach that could digest every thing but humility.

Hyp. Good lack, Mr Wit!

Oct. Yet, with all this, I have sometimes seen her good-natured, generous, and tender. Hyp. There the rogue was civil again. D. Phi. I have thought so, too. [Sighing. Hyp. How can he speak of me with so much generosity?

Oct. For all her usage of you, I'll be racked if she did not love you.

D. Phi. I rather think she hated me: however, now 'tis past, and I must endeavour to think no more of her.

Hyp. Now I begin to hate myself. Oct. Then you are determined to marry this other lady?

D. Phi. That's my business to Madrid.
Trap. Which shall be done to your hand.
D. Phi. Besides, I am now obliged by con-

tract.

Oct. Then, (though she be my sister) may some jealous, old, ill-natured dog, revenge your quarrel to her.

Hyp. Thank you, sir.

D. Phi. Come, forget it.

Hyp. Come, we have seen enough of the enemy's motions, to know 'tis time for us to decamp.

[Exeunt HYPOLITA, FLORA, and TRAPPANTI. Oct. With all my heart; let's go in, and drink your new mistress's health. When do you visit her?

Oct. [To D. Phi.] My dear friend, I beg a thousand pardons; I must leave you this minute; the kind creature has sent for me. I am a soldier, you know, and orders must be obeyed; when I come off duty I'll immediately wait upon you.

D. Phi. You'll find me here, or hear of me. Adieu. Here, house! [Exit OCTAVIO.

Enter HOST. Prithee, see if my servant be come yet. Host. I believe he is, sir; is he not in blue? D. Phi. Ay, where is the sot?

Host. Just refreshing himself with a glass at the gate.

D. Phi. Pray, tell the gentleman I'd speak with him.-[Exit HOST.] In all the necessaries of life, there is not a greater plague than servants. Hey, Soto!

Enter Soro, drunk.

Soto. Did you please to-uch!-call, sir? D. Phi. What's the reason, blockhead, I must always wait upon you thus?

Soto. Sir, I did not know any thing of it. I— I-came as soon as you se-se-se-sent for

me.

D. Phi. And why not without sending, sir? Did you think I expected no answer to the business I sent you about?

Soto. Yes, sir-I did think you would be willing-that is-to have an account-so, I staid to take a glass at the door, because I would not be out of the way— -huh!

D. Phi. You are drunk, rascal !--Where's the portmanteau?

Soto. Sir, I am here-if you please I'll give you the whole account how the matter is-huh! D. Phi. My mind misgives me- -speak, villain ![Strikes him.

Soto. I will, sir, as soon as I can put my words into an intelligible order: I ar❜n't running away, sir.

D. Phi. To the point, sirrah.

Soto. Not of your sword, dear sir!

D. Phi. Sirrah, be brief, or I'll murder you : where's the portmanteau ?

Soto. Sir, as I hope to breathe, I made all the strictest search in the world, and drank at every house upon the road going and coming, and asked about it; and so, at last, as I was coming within a mile of the town here, I found, then

D. Phi. What?

Soto. That it must certainly be lost. D. Phi. Dog! d'ye think this must satisfy me? [Beats him.

Soto. Lord, sir, you won't hear reason- -Are you sure you ha'n't it about you?— -If I know any thing of it I wish I may be burnt !

D. Phi. Villain! your life can't make me

Soto. No, sir, that's hard-a man's life can't -for my part-I—I—

D. Phi. Why do I vent my rage against a sot, a clod of earth? I should accuse myself for trusting him.

Soto. Sir-I had rather-bought a portmanteau out of my own pocket, than have had such a life about it.

D. Phi. Be dumb! Soto. Ahuh! Yes.

D. Phi. If this rascal had stole it, sure he would not have ventured to come back again.— I am confounded! Neither Don Manuel nor his daughter know me, nor any of his family. If I should not visit him till I can receive fresh letters from my father, he'll in the mean time think himself affronted by my neglect. What shall I do?-Suppose I go and tell him my misfortune, and beg his patience till we can hear again from Seville. I must think. Hey, sot!

[Exeunt.

Re-enter HYPOLITA, FLORA, and TRAPPANTI. Trap. Hold, sir; let me touch up your foretop a little.

Hyp. So! my gloves.-Well, Trappanti, you know your business, and if I marry the lady, you know my promise, too.

Trap. Sir, I shall remember them both'Odso! I had like to have forgot-Here, house! a bason and wash-ball-I've a razor about me. Hey! [Knocks.

SCENE I.-DON MANUEL's house.

Enter ROSARA and VILETTA.

Vil. HEAR reason.

Ros. Talk of Octavio, then.

Hyp. What's the matter? Trap. Sir, you are not shaved. Hyp. Shaved!

Trap. Ever while you live, sir, go with a smooth chin to your mistress. Hey! [Knocks. Hyp. This puppy does so plague me with his impertinence, I shall laugh out and discover myself.

Trap. Why, Diego!

Hyp. Psha! prithee don't stand fooling, we're in haste.

Flo. Ay, ay, shave another time. Trap. Nay, what you please, sir; your beard is not much, you may wear it to-day.

[Taking her by the chin. Flo. Ay, and to-morrow, too: pray, sir, will you see the coach ready, and put in the things. Trap. Sir, I'll see the coach ready, and put in the things. [Exit TRAP.

Flo. Come, madam, courage! Now, let's do something for the honour of our sex, give a proof of our parts, and tell mankind we can contrive, fatigue, bustle, and bring about as well as the best of them.

Hyp. Well said, Flora! for the honour of our sex be it, then, and let the grave dons think themselves as wise as they please; but Nature knows there goes more wit to the management of some amours, than the hardest point in politics; Therefore, to men the affair of state's confined. Wisely to us the state of love's assigned, As love's the weightier business of mankind. [Exeunt.

Vil. How do you know but the gentleman your father designs you for, may prove as pretty a fellow as he? If you should happen to like him as well, would not that do your business as well? Ros. Do you expect Octavio should thank you for this?

Vil. The gentleman is no fool.

Ros. He'll hate any one that is not a friend to his love.

Vil. Hang them, say I but can't one quench one's thirst without jumping into the river? Is there no difference between cooling and drowning? Octavio's now in a very good post-keep him there I know the man; he understands the business he is in to a hair; but, faith, you'll spoil him; he's too pretty a fellow, and too poor a one for an husband.

Ros, Poor! he has enough,

Vil. That's the most he has.
Ros. "Twill do our business.

Vil. But when you have no portion (which I'm afraid you won't have with him) he'll soon have enough of you, and how will your business be done then, pray?

I

Ros. Psha! you talk like a fool.

Vil. Come, come, if Octavio must be the man, say let Don Philip be the husband.

Ros. I tell you, fool, I'll have no man but an husband, and no husband but Octavio: when you find I am weary of him, I'll give you leave to talk to me of somebody else.

Vil. In vain, I see—I have done, madam— one must have time to be wise: but, in the mean while, what do you resolve? positively not to marry Don Philip?

Ros. I don't know what I shall do, till I see Octavio. When did he say he would be here? Vil. Oh! I dare not tell you, madam.

Ros. Why?

Vil. I am bribed to the contrary.
Ros. By whom?

Vil. Octavio; he just now sent me this lovely

Vil. Have you no more of them, madam? Ros. Psha! there, take purse and all; will that content thee?

Vil. Oh, dear madam! I should be unconscionable to desire more; but, really, I was willing to have them all first. [Curtseying.

Ros. When will he come?

Vil. Why, the poor gentleman has been hankering about the house this quarter of an hour; but, I did not observe, madam, you were willing to see him till you had convinced me by so plain a proof.

Ros. Where's my father?

Vil. Fast asleep in the great chair.

Ros. Fetch him in, then, before he wakes.
Vil. Let him wake, his habit will protect him.
Ros. His habit!

Vil. Ay, madam, he's turned friar to come at you if your father surprises us, I have a lie ready to back him.-Hist, Octavio! you may

enter.

Enter OCTAVIO, in a friar's habit.

Oct. After a thousand frights and fears, do I live to see my dear Rosara once again, and kind? Ros. What shall we do, Octavio?

[Looking kindly on him. Oct. Kind creature! Do! why, as lovers should do; what nobody can undo; let's run away this minute, tie ourselves in the churchknot, and defy fathers and mothers.

Ros. And fortunes, too?

Oct. Psha! we shall have it one day: they must leave their money behind them.

Ros. Suppose you first try my father's goodnature? You know he once encouraged your addresses.

Oct. First, let's be fast married: perhaps he may be good-natured when he can't help it: if we should try him now, 'twill but set him more upon his guard against us: since we are listed under Love, don't let us serve in a separate garrison. Come, come, stand to your arms, whip a suit of night-clothes into your pocket, and let's march off in a body together.

Ros. Ah! my father! Oct. Dead!

Vil. To your function.

Enter DON MANUEL.

D. Man. Viletta!

Vil. Sir.

D. Mun. Where's my daughter? VOL. II.

Vil. Hist! don't disturb her.

D. Man. Disturb her! Why, what's the mate

ter?

Vil. She's at confession, sir.

D. Man. Confession! I don't like that; a young woman ought to have no sins at all. Vil. Ah! dear sir, there's no living without them.

D. Man. She's now at years of discretion. Vil. There's the danger, sir; she's just of the tasting age: one has really no relish of a sin till fifteen.

D. Man. Ah! then, the jades have swinging stomachs. I find her aversion to the marriage Ï have proposed her has put her upon disobedient thoughts: there can be no confession without guilt.

Vil. Nor no pardon, sir, without confession.

D. Man. Fiddle faddle! I won't have her seem wicked. Hussy, you shall confess for her; I'll have her send her sins by you: you know them, I'm sure; but I'll know what the friar has got out of her-Save you, father!

Oct. Bless you, son!

D. Man. How now! What's become of Father Benedict? Why is not he here?

Vil. Sir, he is not well; and so desired this gentleman, his brother here, to officiate for him. D. Man. He seems very young for a confes

sor.

Vil. Ay, sir; he has not been long at it. Oct. Nor don't desire to be long in it: I wish I understand it well enough to make a fool of my old Don here. [Aside. D. Man. Well, sir, how do you find the pulse of iniquity beat there? What sort of sin has she most stomach to?

Oct. Why, truly, sir, we have all frailties, and your daughter has had most powerful temptations.

D. Man. Nay, the devil has been very busy with her these two days.

Oct. She has told me a most lamentable story. D. Man. Ten to one but this lamentable story proves a most damnable lie.

Oct. Indeed, son, I find, by her confession, that you are much to blame for your tyrannical government of her.

D. Man. Hey-day! what, has the jade been inventing sins for me, and confessing them instead of her own? Let me come-she shall be locked up till she repents them, too.

Oct. Son, forbear; this is now a corroboration of your guilt this is inhuman.

D. Man. Sir, I have done; but pray, if you please, let's come to the point: what are these terrible cruelties that this tender lady accuses me of?

Oct. Nay, sir, mistake her not she did not, with any malicious design, expose your faults, but as her own depended on them; her frailties were the consequence of your cruelty.

3 B

Oct. Why, she confessed her first maiden innocent affection had long been settled upon a young gentleman, whose love to her you had once encouraged, and after their most solemn vows of inutual faith, you have most barbarously broke in upon her hopes; and, to the utter ruin of her peace, contracted her to a man she never saw. D. Man. Very good! I see no harm in all this.

Oct. Methinks the welfare of a daughter, sir, might be of weight enough to make you serious.

D. Man. Serious! so I am, sir. What a devil! must I needs be melancholy, because I have got her a good husband?

Oct. Her melancholy may tell you, sir, she can't think him a good oue.

D. Man. Sir, I understand thinking better than she, and I'll make her take my word. Oct. What have you to object against the man she likes?

D. Man. The man I like.

Oct. Suppose the unhappy youth she loves should throw himself distracted at your feet, and try to melt you into pity

D. Mun Ay! that if he can.

Oct. You would not, sir, refuse to hear him? D. Man. Sir, I shall not refuse him any thing that I am sure will signify nothing.

Oct. Were you one moment to reflect upon the pangs which separated lovers feel-were Nature dead in you, that thought might wake her.

D. Man. Sir, when I am asked to do a thing I have not a mind to do, my nature sleeps like a top.

Oct. Then I must tell you, sir, this obstinacy obliges me, as a churchman, to put you in mind of your duty, and to let you know, too, you ought to pay more reverence to our order.

D. Man. Sir, I am not afraid of the sin of marrying my daughter to the best advantage; and so, if you please, father, you may walk home again-when any thing lies upon my conscience, I'll send for you.

Oct. Nay, then, 'tis time to claim a lover's right, and to tell you, sir, the man that dares to ask Rosara from ine, is a villain.

[Aside.

[Throws off his disguise. Vil. So here will be fine work! D. Man. Octavio! the devil! Oct. You'll find me one, unless you do me speedy justice since not the bonds of honour, nature, nor submissive reason, can oblige you, I am reduced to take a surer, shorter way, and force you to be just. I leave you, sir, to think [Walks about angrily. D. Man. Ah! here's a confessor! ah! that jade of mine!--and that other jade of my jade's! Here has been rare doings!-Well! it shan't hold long; madam shall be noosed to-morrow morningHa! sir's in a great passion here,

on't.

[Sings.

Vil. I don't like the old gentleman's looks.

[Aside.

Ros. This obstinacy of yours, my dear father, you shall find runs in the family.

[Exit ROSARA, and DON MAN. locks her in. D. Man. Tum! dum! dum! [Sings. Oct. Sir, I would advise you, as your nearest friend, to defer this marriage for three days. D. Man. Tum! dum! dum!

Vil. Sir, you have locked my mistress in.

[Pertly.

D. Man. Tum! dum! dum! Vil. If you please to lend me the key, sir, I'll let her out.

D. Man. Tum! dum! dum!

Oct. You might afford me at least, as I am a gentleman, a civil answer, sir.

D. Man. Why, then, in one word, sir, you shall not marry my daughter; and, as you are a gentleman, I'm sure you won't think it good manners to stay in my house, when I submissively beg of you to walk out.

Oct. You are the father of my mistress, and something, sir, too old to answer, as you ought, this wrong; therefore, I'll look for reparation where I can with honour take it; and since you have obliged me to leave your house, I'll watch it carefully; I'll know who dares enter it. This, sir, be sure of; the man that offers at Rosara's love, shall have one virtue, courage, at least; I'll be his proof of that, and ere he steps before me, force him to deserve her. [Erit. OCT.

D. Man. Ah! poor fellow ! he's mad now, and does not know what he would be at.-But, however, 'twill be no harm to provide against him— Who waits there?

Enter a Servant.

Run you for an alguazil, and bid your fellows arm themselves; I expect mischief at my door immediately if Octavio offers any disturbance, knock him down, and bring him before me. [Exit Ser. Vil. Hist! don't I hear my mistress's voice? Ros. [Within.] Viletta!

Vil. Here, bere, madam-Bless me! what's

this?

[VILETTA listens at the closet door, and ROSARA thrusts a billet to her through the key-hole.]

Ha! a billetto Octavio-a-hem.

[Puts it into her bosom. D. Man. How now, hussy? What are you fumbling about that door for?

Vil. Nothing, sir; I was only peeping to see if my mistress had done prayers yet.

D. Man. Oh! she had as good let them alone; for she shall never come out till she has stomach