Chapter XIX: Act I: Scene I

_Don_ LOPEZ, _and a Servant walking over the stage. Enter another Servant, and follows him_.

_Serv._ Don Lopez.

_Lop._ Any new business?

_Serv._ My master had forgot this letter,
Which he conjures you, as you are his friend,
To give Aurelia from him.

_Lop._ Tell Don Melchor,
'Tis a hard task which he enjoins me:
He knows I love her, and much more than he;
For I love her alone, but he divides
His passion betwixt two. Did he consider
How great a pain 'tis to dissemble love,
He would never practise it.

_Serv._ He knows his fault, but cannot mend it.

_Lop._ To make the poor Aurelia believe
He's gone for Flanders, whilst he lies concealed,
And every night makes visits to her cousin--
When will he leave this strange extravagance?

_Serv._ When he can love one more, or t'other less.

_Lop._ Before I loved myself, I promised him
To serve him in his love; and I'll perform it,
Howe'er repugnant to my own concernments.

_Serv._ You are a noble cavalier.
[_Exit Servant._

_Enter_ BELLAMY, WILDBLOOD, _and_ MASKALL.

_2 Serv._ Sir, your guests, of the English ambassador's retinue.

_Lop._ Cavaliers, will you please to command my coach to take the air
this evening?

_Bel._ We have not yet resolved how to dispose of ourselves; but,
however, we are highly acknowledging to you for your civility.

_Lop._ You cannot more oblige me, than by laying your commands on me.

_Wild._ We kiss your hand.
[_Exeunt_ LOPEZ _and Serv_.

_Bel._ Give the Don his due, he entertained us nobly this carnival.

_Wild._ Give the devil the Don, for any thing I liked in his
entertainment.

_Bel._ I hope we had variety enough.

_Wild._ Ay, it looked like variety, till we came to taste it; there were twenty several dishes to the eye, but in the palate, nothing but spices. I had a mind to eat of a pheasant, and as soon as I got it into my mouth, I found I was chewing a limb of cinnamon; then I went to cut a piece of kid, and no sooner it had touched my lips, but it turned to red pepper: At last I began to think myself another kind of Midas, that every thing I touched should be turned to spice.

_Bel._ And, for my part, I imagined his Catholic majesty had invited us to eat his Indies. But pr'ythee, let's leave the discourse of it, and contrive together how we may spend the evening; for in this hot country, 'tis as in the creation, the evening and the morning make the day.

_Wild._ I have a little serious business.

_Bel._ Put it off till a fitter season: For the truth is, business is then only tolerable, when the world and the flesh have no baits to set before us for the day.

_Wild._ But mine, perhaps, is public business.

_Bel._ Why, is any business more public than drinking and wenching? Look on those grave plodding fellows, that pass by us as though they were meditating the reconquest of Flanders: Fly them to a mark, and I'll undertake three parts of four are going to their courtezans. I tell thee, Jack, the whisking of a silk gown, and the rush of a tabby petticoat, are as comfortable sounds to one of these rich citizens, as the chink of their pieces of eight.

_Wild._ This being granted to be the common design of human kind, it is more than probable it is yours; therefore I'll leave you to the prosecution of it.

_Bel._ Nay, good Jack, mine is but a mistress in embryo; the possession of her is at least some days off; and till that time, thy company will be pleasant, and may be profitable to carry on the work. I would use thee like an under kind of chemist, to blow coals; it will be time enough for me to be alone, when I come to projection.

_Wild._ You must excuse me, Frank; I have made an appointment at the gaming-house.

_Bel._ What to do there, I pr'ythee? To mis-spend that money, which kind fortune intended for a mistress? Or to learn new oaths and curses to carry into England? That is not it--I heard you were to marry when you left home: Perhaps that may be still running in your head, and keep you virtuous.

_Wild._ Marriage, quotha! what, dost thou think I have been bred in the deserts of Africa, or among the savages of America? Nay, if I had, I must needs have known better things than so; the light of nature would not have let me go so far astray.

_Bel._ Well, what think you of the Prado this evening?

_Wild._ Pox upon't, 'tis worse than our contemplative Hyde-Park.

_Bel._ Oh, but we must submit to the custom of the country for courtship: Whatever the means are, we are sure the end is still the same in all places. But who are these?

_Enter_ DON ALONZO DE RIBERA, _with his two Daughters_, THEODOSIA _and_ JACINTHA, _and_ BEATRIX, _their Woman, passing by_.

_Theo._ Do you see those strangers, sister, that eye us so earnestly?

_Jac._ Yes, and I guess them to be feathers of the English ambassador's train; for I think I saw them at the grand audience--and have the strongest temptation in the world to talk to them: A mischief on this modesty!

_Beat._ A mischief of this father of yours, that haunts you so.

_Jac._ 'Tis very true, Beatrix; for though I am the younger sister, I should have the grace to lay modesty first aside: However, sister, let us pull up our veils, and give them an essay of our faces. [_They pull up their veils, and pull them down again._

_Wild._ Ah, Bellamy! undone, undone! Dost thou see those beauties?

_Bel._ Pr'ythee, Wildblood, hold thy tongue, and do not spoil my contemplation: I am undoing myself as fast as ever I can, too.

_Wild._ I must go to them.

_Bel._ Hold, madman! Dost thou not see their father? Hast thou a mind to have our throats cut?

_Wild._ By a Hector of fourscore? Hang our throats: What! a lover, and cautious? [_Is going towards them._

_Alon._ Come away, daughters; we shall be late else.

_Bel._ Look you, they are on the wing already.

_Wild._ Pr'ythee, dear Frank, let's follow them: I long to know who they are.

_Mask._ Let me alone, I'll dog them for you.

_Bel._ I am glad on't; for my shoes so pinch me, I can scarce go a step farther.

_Wild._ Cross the way there lives a shoemaker: Away quickly, that we may not spoil our design. [_Exeunt_ BEL. _and_ WILD.

_Alon._ [_offers to go off_.] Now, friend! what's your business to follow us?

_Mask._ Noble Don, 'tis only to recommend my service to you: A certain violent passion I have had for your worship, since the first moment that I saw you.

_Alon._ I never saw thee before, to my remembrance.

_Mask._ No matter, sir; true love never stands upon ceremon y.

_Alon._ Pr'ythee be gone, my saucy companion, or I'll clap an alguazil upon thy heels: I tell thee I have no need of thy service.

_Mask._ Having no servant of your own, I cannot, in good manners, leave you destitute.

_Alon._ I'll beat thee, if thou followest me.

_Mask._ I am your spaniel, sir; the more you beat me, the better I'll wait on you.

_Alon._ Let me entreat thee to be gone; the boys will hoot at me to see me followed thus against my will.

_Mask._ Shall you and I concern ourselves for what the boys do, sir? Pray do you hear the news at court?

_Alon._ Pr'ythee, what's the news to thee or me?

_Mask._ Will you be at the next _juego de cannas_?

_Alon._ If I think good.

_Mask._ Pray go on, sir; we can discourse as we walk together: And whither were you now a-going, sir?

_Alon._ To the devil, I think.

_Mask._ O, not this year or two, sir, by your age.

_Jac._ My father was never so matched for talking in all his life before; he who loves to hear nothing but himself: Pr'ythee, Beatrix, stay behind, and see what this impudent Englishman would have.

_Beat._ Sir, if you'll let my master go, I'll be his pawn.

_Mask._ Well, sir, I kiss your hand, in hope to wait on you another time.

_Alon._ Let us mend our pace, to get clear of him.

_Theo._ If you do not, he'll be with you again, like Atalanta in the
fable, and make you drop another of your golden apples.
[_Exeunt_ ALON. THEO. _and_ JACINTHA.
[MASKALL _whispers_ BEATRIX _the while_.

_Beat._ How much good language is here thrown away, to make me betray my ladies?

_Mask._ If you will discover nothing of them, let me discourse with you a little.

_Beat._ As little as you please.

_Mask._ They are rich, I suppose?

_Beat._ Now you are talking of them again: But they are as rich, as they are fair.

_Mask._ Then they have the Indies: Well, but their names, my sweet mistress.

_Beat._ Sweet servant, their names are----

_Mask._ Their names are--out with it boldly--

_Beat._ A secret--not to be disclosed.

_Mask._ A secret, say you? Nay, then, I conjure you, as you are a woman, tell it me.

_Beat._ Not a syllable.

_Mask._ Why, then, as you are a waiting-woman; as you are the sieve of all your lady's secrets, tell it me.

_Beat._ You lose your labour; nothing will strain through me.

_Mask._ Are you so well stopped in the bottom?

_Beat._ It was enjoined me strictly as a secret.

_Mask._ Was it enjoined thee strictly, and canst thou hold it? Nay, then, thou art invincible: But, by that face, that more than ugly face, which I suspect to be under thy veil, disclose it to me.

_Beat._ By that face of thine, which is a natural visor, I will not tell thee.

_Mask._ By thy----

_Beat._ No more swearing, I beseech you.

_Mask._ That woman's worth little, that is not worth an oath: Well, get thee gone; now I think on't, thou shalt not tell me.

_Beat._ Shall I not? Who shall hinder me? They are Don Alonzo de Ribera's daughters.

_Mask._ Out, out: I'll stop my ears.

_Beat._ They live hard by, in the _Calle maior_.

_Mask._ O, infernal tongue--

_Beat._ And are going to the next chapel with their father.

_Mask._ Wilt thou never have done tormenting me? In my conscience, anon thou wilt blab out their names too.

_Beat._ Their names are Theodosia and Jacintha.

_Mask._ And where's your great secret now?

_Beat._ Now, I think, I am revenged on you, for running down my poor old master.

_Mask._ Thou art not fully revenged, till thou hast told me thy own name too.

_Beat._ 'Tis Beatrix, at your service, sir; pray remember I wait on them.

_Mask._ Now I have enough, I must be going.

_Beat._ I perceive you are just like other men; when you have got your ends, you care not how soon you are going. Farewell:--you'll be constant to me?

_Mask._ If thy face, when I see it, do not give me occasion to be otherwise.

_Beat._ You shall take a sample, that you may praise it, when you see it next. [_She pulls up her veil._

_Enter_ WILDBLOOD _and_ BELLAMY.

_Wild._ Look, there's your dog with a duck in's mouth.--Oh, she's got loose, and dived again. [_Exit_ BEATRIX.

_Beat._ Well, Maskall, what news of the ladies of the lake?

_Mask._ I have learned enough to embark you in an adventure. They are daughters to one Don Alonzo de Ribera, in the _Calle maior_, their names Theodosia and Jacintha, and they are going to their devotions in the next chapel.

_Wild._ Away then, let us lose no time. I thank heaven, I never found myself better inclined to godliness, than at this present. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.--_A Chapel_.

_Enter_ ALONZO, THEODOSIA, JACINTHA, BEATRIX, _other Ladies, and Cavaliers at their devotions_.

_Alon._ By that time you have told your beads, I'll be again with you.
[_Exit._

_Jac._ Do you think the Englishmen will come after us?

_Beat._ Do you think they can stay from you?

_Jac._ For my part, I feel a certain qualm upon my heart, which makes me believe I am breeding love to one of them.

_Theo._ How, love, Jacintha! in so short a time? Cupid's arrow was well feathered, to reach you so suddenly.

_Jac._ Faith, as good at first as at last, sister; 'tis a thing that must be done, and therefore 'tis best dispatching it out o'the way.

_Theo._ But you do not mean to tell him so, whom you love?

_Jac._ Why should I keep myself and servant in pain, for that which may be cured at a day's warning?

_Beat._ My lady tells you true, madam; long tedious courtship may be proper for cold countries, where their frosts are long a thawing; but, heaven be praised, we live in a warm climate.

_Theo._ The truth is, in other countries they have opportunities of courtship, which we have not; they are not mewed up with double locks and grated windows; but may receive addresses at their leisure.

_Jac._ But our love here is like our grass; if it be not mowed quickly, 'tis burnt up.

_Enter_ BELLAMY, WILDBLOOD, and MASKALL: _They look about them_.

_Theo._ Yonder are your gallants; send you comfort of them: I am for my devotions.

_Jac._ Now for my heart can I think of no other prayer, but only that they may not mistake us. Why, sister, sister, will you pray? What injury have I ever done you, that you should pray in my company? If your servant Don Melchor were here, we should have you mind heaven as little as the best of us.

_Beat._ They are at a loss, madam; shall I put up my veil, that they may take aim?

_Jac._ No, let them take their fortune in the dark: We shall see what archers these English are.

_Bel._ Which are they, think'st thou?

_Wild._ There's no knowing them, they are all children of darkness.

_Bel._ I'll be sworn they have one sign of godliness among them, there's no distinction of persons here.

_Wild._ Pox o'this blind-man's-buff; they may be ashamed to provoke a man thus, by their keeping themselves so close.

_Bel._ You are for the youngest, you say; 'tis the eldest has smitten me. And here I fix; if I am right, happy man be his dole. [_By_ THEODOSIA.

_Wild._ I'll take my fortune here.
[_By_ JACINTHA.
Madam, I hope a stranger may take the liberty, without offence, to
offer his devotions by you?

_Jac._ That, sir, would interrupt mine, without being any advantage to your own.

_Wild._ My advantage, madam, is very evident; for the kind saint, to whom you pray, may, by the neighbourhood, mistake my devotions for yours.

_Jac._ O, sir! our saints can better distinguish between the prayers of a Catholic and a Lutheran.

_Wild._ I beseech you, madam, trouble not yourself for my religion; for, though I am a heretic to the men of your country, to your ladies I am a very zealous Catholic; and for fornication and adultery, I assure you I hold with both churches.

_Theo. to Bel._ Sir, if you will not be more devout, be at least more civil; you see you are observed.

_Bel._ And pray, madam, what do you think the lookers on imagine I am employed about?

_Theo._ I will not trouble myself to guess.

_Bel._ Why, by all circumstances, they must conclude that I am making love to you; and, methinks, it were scarce civil to give the opinion of so much good company the lie.

_Theo._ If this were true, you would have little reason to thank them for their divination.

_Bel._ Meaning, I should not be loved again?

_Theo._ You have interpreted my riddle, and may take it for your pains.

_Enter_ ALONZO, _and goes apart to his devotion_.

_Beat._ Madam, your father is returned.

_Bel._ She has nettled me; would, I could be revenged on her!

_Wild._ Do you see their father? Let us make as though we talked to one another, that we may not be suspected.

_Beat._ You have lost your Englishmen.

_Jac._ No, no, 'tis but design, I warrant you: You shall see these island cocks wheel about immediately. [_The English gather up close to them._

_Beat._ Perhaps they thought they were observed.

_Wild. to Bel._ Talk not of our country ladies: I declare myself for the Spanish beauties.

_Bel._ Pr'ythee, tell me what thou canst find to doat on in these Castilians?

_Wild._ Their wit and beauty.

_Theo._ Now for our champion, St Jago, for Spain.

_Bel._ Faith, I can speak no such miracles of either; for their beauty, 'tis much as the Moors left it; not altogether so deep a black as the true Ethiopian; a kind of beauty that is too civil to the lookers-on to do them any mischief.

_Jac._ This was your frowardness, that provoked him, sister.

_Theo._ But they shall not carry it off so.

_Bel._ As for their wit, you may judge it by their breeding, which is commonly in a nunnery; where the want of mankind, while they are there, makes them value the blessing ever after.

_Theo._ Pr'ythee, dear Jacintha, tell me, what kind of creatures were those we saw yesterday at the audience? Those, I mean, that looked so like Frenchmen in their habits, but only became their apishness so much worse.

_Jac._ Englishmen, I think, they called them.

_Theo._ Cry you mercy; they were of your wild English, indeed; that is, a kind of northern beast, that is taught its feats of activity in Monsieurland; and, for doing them too lubberly, is laughed at all the world over.

_Bel._ Wildblood, I perceive the women understand little of discourse; their gallants do not use them to it: They get upon their jennets, and prance before their ladies' windows; there the palfrey curvets and bounds, and, in short, entertains them for his master.

_Wild._ And this horseplay they call making love.

_Beat._ Your father, madam----

_Alon._ Daughters! what cavaliers are those which were talking by you?

_Jac._ Englishmen, I believe, sir, at their devotions.--Cavalier, would you would try to pray a little better than you have rallied. [_Aside to_ WILD.

_Wild._ Hang me if I put all my devotions out of order for you: I remember I prayed but on Tuesday last, and my time comes not till Tuesday next.

_Mask._ You had as good pray, sir: she will not stir till you have: Say any thing.

_Wild._ Fair lady, though I am not worthy of the least of your favours, yet give me the happiness this evening to see you at your father's door, that I may acquaint you with part of my sufferings. [_Aside to_ JAC.

_Alon._ Come, daughters, have you done?

_Jac._ Immediately, sir.--Cavalier, I will not fail to be there at the time appointed, if it be but to teach you more wit, henceforward, than to engage your heart so lightly. [_Aside to_ WILD.

_Wild._ I have engaged my heart with so much zeal and true devotion to your divine beauty, that----

_Alon._ What means this cavalier?

_Jac._ Some zealous ejaculation.

_Alan._ May the saint hear him!

_Jac._ I'll answer for her.
[_Exeunt Father and Daughters._

_Wild._ Now, Bellamy, what success?

_Bel._ I prayed to a more marble saint than that was in the shrine; but you, it seems, have been successful.

_Wild._ And so shalt thou; let me alone for both.

_Bel._ If you'll undertake it, I'll make bold to indulge my love, and within these two hours be a desperate inamorato. I feel I am coming apace to it.

_Wild._ Faith, I can love at any time with a wish, at my rate: I give my heart according to the old law of pawns, to be returned me before sunset.

_Bel._ I love only that I may keep my heart warm; for a man's a pool, if love stir him not; and to bring it to that pass, I first resolve whom to love, and presently after imagine I am in love: for a strong imagination is required in a lover as much as in a witch.

_Wild._ And is this all your receipt?

_Bel._ These are my principal ingredients; as for piques, jealousies, duels, daggers, and halters, I let them alone to the vulgar.

_Wild._ Pr'ythee, let's round the street a little; till Maskall watches for their woman.

_Bel._ That's well thought on: He shall about it immediately. We will attempt the mistress by the maid: Women by women still are best betrayed. [_Exeunt._