SCENE,the Street.
EnterLopez.
Lop.Sometimesfortune seconds a bold design, and when folly has brought us into a trap, impudence brings us out on't. I have been caught by this hot-headed lover here, and have told like a puppy what I shall be beaten for like a dog. Come! courage, my dearLopez; fire will fetch out fire: thou hast told one body thy master's secret, e'en tell it to half a dozen more, and try how that will thrive; go tell it to the two old Dons, the lovers fathers. The thing's done, and can't be retriev'd; perhaps they'll lay their two ancient heads together, club a pennyworth of wisdom a-piece, and with great penetration at last find out, that 'tis best to submit, where 'tis not in their power to do otherwise. This being resolv'd, there's no time to be lost.
[Knocks atAlvarez's door.
Alv.Who knocks?
[Within.
Lop.Lopez.
Alv.What dost want?
[Looking out.
Lop.To bid you good-morrow, Sir.
Alv.Well, good-morrow to thee again.
[Retires.
Lop.What a——I think he does not care for my company.
[Knocks again.
Alv.Who knocks?
Lop.Lopez.
Alv.What would'st have?
[Looking out.
Lop.My old master, Sir, gives his service to you, and desires to know how you do.
Alv.How I do? Why well: how shou'd I do? Service to him again.
[Retires.
Lop.Sir.
Alv.[Returning.] What the deuce wouldst thou have with me, with thy good-morrows, and thy services?
Lop.This man does not understand good breeding, I find. [Aside.] Why, Sir, my master has some very earnest business with you.
Alv.Business! About what? What business can he have with me?
Lop.I don't know, truly; but 'tis some very important matter: he has just now (as I hear) discover'd some great secret, which he must needs talk with you about.
Alv.Ha! a secret, say'st thou?
Lop.Yes; and bid me bring him word, if you were at home, he'd be with you presently. Sir, your humble servant.
[ExitLopez.
Alvarezsolus.
A secret: and must speak with me about it! Heav'ns, how I tremble! What can this message mean? I have very little acquaintance with him, what business can he have with me? An important secret 'twas, he said, and that he had just discover'd it. Alas, I have in the world but one, if it be that——I'm lost; an eternal blot must fix upon me. How unfortunate am I, that I have not follow'd the honest counsels of my heart, which have often urg'd me to set my conscience at ease, by rendering to him the estate that is his due, and which by a foul imposture I keep from him. But 'tis now too late; my villainy is out, and I shall not only be forc'd with shame to restore him what is his, but shall be perhaps condemned to make him reparation with my own. O terrible view!
Enter DonFelix.
DonFel.My son to go and marry her, without her father's knowledge? This can never end well. I don't know what to do, he'll conclude I was privy to it, and his power and interest are so great at court, he may with ease contrive my ruin: I tremble at his sending to speak with me——Mercy on me, there he is.
[Aside.
Alv.Ah! Shield me, kind heaven! There's Don Felix come: how I am struck with the sight of him! O the torment of a guilty mind!
[Aside.
DonFel.What shall I say to soften him?
[Aside.
Alv.How shall I look him in the face?
[Aside.
DonFel.'Tis impossible he can forgive it.
[Aside.
Alv.To be sure he'll expose me to the whole world.
[Aside.
DonFel.I see his countenance change.
[Aside.
Alv.With what contempt he looks upon me!
[Aside.
DonFel.I see, DonAlvarez, by the disorder of your face, you are but too well inform'd of what brings me here.
Alv.'Tis true.
DonFel.The news may well surprize you, 'tis what I have been far from apprehending.
Alv.Wrong, very wrong, indeed.
DonFel.This action is certainly to the last point to be condemn'd, and I think nobody should pretend to excuse the guilty.
Alv.They are not to be excus'd, tho' heaven may have mercy.
DonFel.That's what I hope you will consider.
Alv.We should act as Christians.
DonFel.Most certainly.
Alv.Let mercy then prevail.
DonFel.It is indeed of heavenly birth.
Alv.Generous DonFelix!
DonFel.Too indulgentAlvarez!
Alv.I thank you on my knee.
DonFel.'Tis I ought to have been there first.
[They kneel.
Alv.Is it then possible we are friends?
DonFel.Embrace me to confirm it.
[They embrace.
Alv.Thou best of men!
DonFel.Unlook'd-for bounty!
Alv.Did you know the torment [Rising.] this unhappy action has given me——
Don.Fel.'Tis impossible it could do otherwise; nor has my trouble been less.
Alv.But let my misfortune be kept secret.
DonFel.Most willingly; my advantage is sufficient by it, without the vanity of making it publick to the world.
Alv.Incomparable goodness! That I should thus have wronged a man so worthy! [Aside.] My honour then, is safe?
DonFel.For ever, even for ever let it be a secret, I am content.
Alv.Noble gentleman! [Aside.] As to what advantages ought to accrue to you by it, it shall be all to your entire satisfaction.
DonFel.Wonderful bounty! [Aside.] As to that, DonAlvarez, I leave it entirely to you, and shall be content with whatever you think reasonable.
Alv.I thank you, from my soul I must, you know I must.——This must be an angel, not a man.
[Aside.
DonFel.The thanks lie on my side,Alvarez, for this unexpected generosity, but may all faults be forgot, and heav'n ever prosper you.
Alv.The same prayer I, with a double fervour, offer up for you.
DonFel.Let us then once more embrace, and be forgiveness seal'd for ever.
Alv.Agreed; thou best of men, agreed.
[They embrace.
DonFel.This thing then being thus happily terminated, let me own to you, DonAlvarez, I was in extreme apprehensions of your utmost resentment on this occasion; for I could not doubt but you had form'd more happy views in the disposal of so fair a daughterasLeonora, than my poor son's inferior fortune e'er can answer; but since they are join'd, and that——
Alv.Ha!
DonFel.Nay, 'tis very likely to discourse of it may not be very pleasing to you, tho' your christianity and natural goodness have prevail'd on you so generously to forgive it. But to do justice toLeonora, and skreen her from your too harsh opinion in this unlucky action, 'twas that cunning wicked creature that attends her, who by unusual arts wrought her to this breach of duty, for her own inclinations were dispos'd to all the modesty and resignation a father could ask from a daughter; my son I can't excuse, but since your bounty does so, I hope you'll quite forget the fault of the less guiltyLeonora.
Alv.What a mistake have I lain under here! And from a groundless apprehension of one misfortune, find myself in the certainty of another.
[Aside.
DonFel.He looks disturb'd; what can this mean?
[Aside.
Alv.My daughter marry'd to his son!—--Confusion. But I find myself in such unruly agitation, something wrong may happen if I continue with him; I'll therefore leave him.
[Aside.
DonFel.You seem thoughtful, Sir, I hope there's no——
Alv.A sudden disorder I am seiz'd with; you'll pardon me, I must retire.
[ExitAlvarez.
DonFelixsolus.
I don't like this: He went oddly off—I doubt he finds this bounty difficult to go through with. His natural resentment is making an attack upon his acquir'd generosity: pray heaven it ben't too strong for't. The misfortune is a great one, and can't but touch him nearly. It was not natural to be so calm; I wish it don't yet drive him to my ruin. But here comes this young hot-brain'd coxcomb, who with his midnight amours has been the cause of all this mischief to me.
EnterLorenzo.
So, Sir, you are come to receive my thanks for your noble exploit? You think you have done bravely now, ungracious offspring, to bring perpetual troubles on me. Must there never pass a day, but I must drink some bitter potion or other of your preparation for me?
Lor.I am amaz'd, Sir; pray what have I done to deserve your anger?
DonFel.Nothing; no manner of thing in the world; nor never do. I am an old testy fellow, and am always scolding, and finding fault for nothing; complaining that I have got a coxcomb of a son, that makes me weary of my life, fancying he perverts the order of nature, turning day into night, and night into day; getting whims in my brain, that he consumes his life in idleness, unless he rouses now and then to do some noble stroke of mischief; and having an impertinent dream at this time, that he has been making the fortune of the family, by an underhand marriage with the daughter of a man who will crush us all to powder for it. Ah——ungracious wretch; to bring an old man into all this trouble! The pain thou gav'st thy mother to bring thee into the world, and the plague thou hast given me to keep thee here, make the getting thee (tho' 'twas in our honey-moon) a bitter remembrance to us both.
[Exit DonFelix.
Lorenzosolus.
So——all's out——Here's a noble storm arising, and I'm at sea in a cock-boat. But which way could this business reach him? By this traitorLopez——it must be so; it could be no other way; for only he, and the priest that marry'd us, knew of it. The villain will never confess tho'. I must try a little address with him, and conceal my anger. O, here he comes.
EnterLopez.
Lor.Lopez.
Lop.Do you call, Sir?
Lor.I find all's discover'd to my father, the secret's out; he knows my marriage.
Lop.He knows your marriage. How the pest should that happen? Sir, 'tis impossible; that's all.
Lor.I tell thee 'tis true; he knows every particular of it.
Lop.He does!—--Why then, Sir, all I can say is, that Satan and he are better acquainted than the devil and a good Christian ought to be.
Lor.Which way he has discover'd it I can't tell, nor am I much concern'd to know, since beyond all my expectations, I find him perfectly easy at it, and ready to excuse my fault with better reasons than I can find to do it myself.
Lop.Say you so?——I am very glad to hear that, then all's safe.
[Aside.
Lor.'Tis unexpected good fortune; but it could never proceed purely from his own temper, there must have been pains taken with him to bring him to this calm; I'm sure I owe much to the bounty of some friend or other; I wish I knew where my obligation lay, that I might acknowledge it as I ought.
Lop.Are you thereabout's, I'faith? Then sharp's the word; I'gad I'll own the thing, and receive his bounty for't. [Aside.] Why, Sir——not that I pretend to make a merit o'the matter, for alas, I am but your poor hireling, and therefore bound in duty to render you all the service I can——But——'tis I have don't.
Lor.What hast thou done?
Lop.What no man else could have done; the job, Sir, told him the secret, and then talk'd him into a liking on't.
Lor.'Tis impossible; thou dost not tell me true.
Lop.Sir, I scorn to reap any thing from another man's labours, but if this poor piece of service carries any merit with it, you now know where to reward it.
Lor.Thou art not serious!
Lop.I am; or may hunger be my mess-mate.
Lor.And may famine be mine, if I don't reward thee for't, as thou deserv'st——Dead.
[Making a pass at him.
Lop.Have a care there [Leaping on one side.] What do you mean, Sir? I bar all surprise.
Lor.Traitor, is this the fruit of the trust I plac'd in thee, villain?
[Making another thrust at him.
Lop.Take heed, Sir; you'll do one a mischief before you're aware.
Lop.What recompence can'st thou make me, wretch, for this piece of treachery? Thy sordid blood can't expiate the thousandth——But I'll have it however.
[Thrusts again.
Lop.Look you there again: pray, Sir, be quiet; is the devil in you? 'Tis bad jesting with edg'd tools. I'gad that last push was within an inch o' me. I don't know what you make all this bustle about, but I'm sure I've done all for the best, and I believe it will prove for the best too at last, if you'll have but a little patience. But if gentlemen will be in their airs in a moment—Why, what the deuce——I'm sure I have been as eloquent asCicero, in your behalf; and I don't doubt to good purpose too, if you'll give things time to work. But nothing but foul language, and naked swords about the house, sa, sa; run you through you dog; why, nobody can do business at this rate.
Lor.And suppose your project fails, and I'm ruin'd by it, Sir.
Lop.Why, 'twill be time enough to kill me then, Sir? won't it? What should you do it for now? Besides, I an't ready, I'm not prepar'd, I might be undone by't.
Lor.But what willLeonorasay to her marriage being known, wretch?
Lop.Why may be she'll draw——her sword too. [Shewing his tongue.] But all shall be well with you both, if you will but let me alone.
Lor.Peace; here's her father.
Lop.That's well: we shall see how things go presently.
Enter DonAlvarez.
Alv.The more I recover from the disorder this discourse has put me in, the more strange the whole adventure appears to me.Leonoramaintains there is not a word of truth in what I have heard; that she knows nothing of marriage: and indeed she tells me this, with such a naked air of sincerity, that for my part I believe her. What then must be their project? Some villainous intention, to be sure; tho' which way, I yet am ignorant. But here's the bridegroom; I'll accost him——I am told, Sir, you take upon you to scandalize my daughter, and tell idle tales of what can never happen.
Lop.Now methinks, Sir, if you treated your son-in-law with a little more civility, things might go just as well in the main.
Alv.What means this insolent fellow by my son-in-law! I suppose 'tis you, villain, are the author of this impudent story.
Lop.You seem angry, Sir——perhaps without cause.
Alv.Cause, traitor! Is a cause wanting where a daughter's defam'd, and a noble family scandaliz'd?
Lop.There he is, let him answer you.
Alv.I shou'd be glad, he'd answer me, why, if he had any desires to my daughter, he did not make his approaches like a man of honour.
Lop.Yes; and so have had the doors bolted against him like a house-breaker.
[Aside.
Lor.Sir to justify my proceeding, I have little to say; but to excuse it, I have much; if any allowance may be made to a passion, which in your youth you have yourself been sway'd by: I love your daughter to that excess——
Alv.You would undo her for a night's lodging.
Lor.Undo her, Sir?
Alv.Yes, that's the word; you knew it was against her interest to marry you, therefore you endeavour'd to win her to't in private; you knew her friends would make a better bargain for her, therefore you kept your designs from their knowledge, and yet you love her to that excess——
Lor.I'd readily lay down my life to serve her.
Alv.Could you readily lay down fifty thousand pistoles to serve her, your excessive love would come with better credentials; an offer of life is very proper for the attack of a counterscarp, but a thousand ducats will sooner carry a lady's heart; you are a young man, but will learn this when you are older.
Lop.But since things have succeeded better this once, Sir, and that my master will prove a most incomparable good husband (for that he'll do, I'll answer for him) and that 'tis too late to recall what's already done, Sir——
Alv.What's done, villain?
Lop.Sir, I mean, that since my master and my lady are marry'd, and——
Alv.Thou ly'st; they are not marry'd.
Lop.Sir!—--I say, that since they are marry'd, and that they love each other so passing dearly, indeed I fancy that——
Alv.Why, this impudence is beyond all bearing; Sir, do you put your rascal upon this?
Lor.Sir, I am in a wood; I don't know what it is you mean.
Alv.And I am in a plain, Sir, and think I may be understood; do you pretend you are marry'd to my daughter?
Lor.Sir, 'tis my happiness on one side, as it is my misfortune on another.
Alv.And do you think this idle project can succeed? do you believe your affirming you are marry'd to her, will induce both her and me to consent it shall be so?
Lop.Sir, I see you make my master almost out of his wits to hear you talk so: but I, who am but a stande-by now, as I was at the wedding, have mine about me, and desire to know, whether you think this project can succeed? Do you believe your affirming they are not marry'd, will induce both him and I to give up the lady? One short question to bring this matter to an issue, Why do you think they are not marry'd?
Alv.Because she utterly renounces it.
Lop.And so she will her religion, if you attack it with that dreadful face. D'ye hear, Sir? the poor ladyis in love heartily, and I wish all poor ladies that are so, would dispose of themselves so well as she has done; but you scare her out of her senses: bring her here into the room, speak gently to her, tell her you know the thing is done, that you have it from a man of honour, Me. That may be you wish it had been otherwise, but are a Christian, and profess mercy, and therefore have resolved to pardon her: say this, and I shall appear a man of reputation, and have satisfaction made me.
Alv.Or an impudent rogue, and have all your bones broke.
Lop.Content.
Alv.Agreed,Leonora! who's there? callLeonora.
Lop.All will go rarely, Sir; we shall have shot the gulf in a moment.
[Aside toLorenzo.
EnterLeonora.
Alv.Come hither,Leonora.
Lop.So, now we shall see.
Alv.I call'd you to answer for yourself; here's a strong claim upon you; if there be any thing in the pretended title, conceal it no farther, it must be known at last, it may as well be so now. Nothing is so uneasy as uncertainty, I would therefore be gladly freed from it: if you have done what I am told you have, 'tis a great fault indeed; but as I fear 'twill carry much of its punishment along with it, I shall rather reduce my resentment into mourning your misfortune, than suffer it to add to your affliction; therefore speak the truth.
Lop.Well, this is fair play; now I speak, Sir: you see, fair lady, the goodness of a tender father, nothing need therefore hinder you from owning a most loving husband. We had like to have been altogether by the ears about this business, and pails of blood were ready to run about the house: but, thank heaven, the sun shines out again, and one word from your sweet mouth makes fair weather for ever. My master has been forc'd to own your marriage, he begs you'll do so too.
Leo.What does this impudent rascal mean?
Lop.Ha!—--Madam!
Leo.Sir, I should be very glad to know [ToLorenzo.] what can have been the occasion of this wild report; sure you cannot be yourself a party in it.
Lop.He, he——
Lor.Forgive me, dearLeonora, I know you had strong reasons for the secret being longer kept; but 'tis not my fault our marriage is disclos'd.
Leo.Our marriage, Sir!——
Lor.'Tis known, my dear, tho' much against my will; but since it is so, 'twou'd be in vain for us to deny it longer.
Leo.Then, Sir, I am your wife? I fell in love with you, and married you without my father's knowledge?
Lor.I dare not be so vain to think 'twas love; I humbly am content to owe the blessing to your generosity; you saw the pains I suffer'd for your sake, and in compassion eas'd 'em.
Leo.I did, Sir! Sure this exceeds all human impudence.
Lop.Truly, I think it does. She'd make an incomparable actress.
[Aside.
Lor.I begin to be surpris'd, Madam, at you carrying this thing so far; you see there's no occasion for it; and for the discovery, I have already told you, 'twas not my fault.
Lop.My master's! no, 'twas I did it: why, what a bustle's here! I knew things would go well, and so they do, if folks would let 'em. But if ladies will be in their merriments, when gentlemen are upon serious business, why what a deuce can one say to 'em?
Leo.I see this fellow is to be an evidence in your plot; where you hope to drive, it is hard to guess; for if any thing can exceed its impudence, it is its folly. A noble stratagem indeed to win a lady by! I could be diverted with it, but that I see a face of villainy requires a rougher treatment; I could almost, methinks, forget my sex, and be my own avenger.
Lor.Madam, I am surpris'd beyond all——
Lop.Pray, Sir, let me come to her; you are so surpris'd, you'll make nothing on't: she wants a little snubbing. Look you, madam, I have seen many a pleasant humour amongst ladies, but you out-cut them all. Here's contradiction, with a vengeance: you han't been married eight-and-forty hours, and you are slap——at your husband's beard already: why, do you consider who he is?——Who this gentleman is? And what he can do——by law? Why, he can lock you up——knock you down——tie you neck and heels——
Lor.Forbear, you insolent villain, you.
[Offering to strike him.
Leo.That——for what's past, however.
[Giving him a box o' th' ear.
Lop.I think——she gave me a box o' the ear; ha!
[ExitLeonora.
Sir, will you suffer your old servants to be us'd thus by new comers? It's a shame, a mere shame: Sir, will you take a poor dog's advice for once? She denies she's married to you: take her at her word; you have seen some of her humours,——let her go.
Alv.Well, gentlemen, thus far you see I have heard all with patience; have you content? Or how much farther do you design to go with this business?
Lop.Why truly, Sir, I think we are near at a stand.
Alv.'Tis time, you villain you.
Lop.Why, and I am a villain now, if every word I've spoke be not as true as——as theGazette: and your daughter's no better than a——a——a whimsical young woman, for making disputes among gentlemen. And if every body had their deserts, she'd have a good——I won't speak out to inflame reckonings; but let her go, master.
Alv.Sir, I don't think it well to spend any more words with your impudent and villainous servant here.
Lop.Thank you, Sir: but I'd let her go.
Alv.Nor have I more to say to you than this, that you must not think so daring an affront to my family can go long unresented. Farewel.
[ExitAlv.
Lor.Well, Sir, what have you to say for yourself now?
Lop.Why, Sir, I have only to say, that I am a very unfortunate——middle-ag'd man; and that I believeall the stars upon heaven and earth have been concern'd in my destiny. Children now unborn will hereafter sing my downfal in mournful lines, and notes of doleful tune: I am at present troubled in mind, despair around me, signify'd in appearing gibbets, with a great bundle of dog-whips by way of preparation.
I therefore will go seek some mountain high,If high enough some mountain may be found,}With distant valley dreadfully profound,}And from the horrid cliff—look calmly all around.}
I therefore will go seek some mountain high,If high enough some mountain may be found,}With distant valley dreadfully profound,}And from the horrid cliff—look calmly all around.}
Farewel.
[Aside.
Lor.No, sirrah, I'll see your wretched end myself. Die here, villain.
[Drawing his sword.
Lop.I can't, Sir, if any body looks upon me.
Lor.Away, you trifling wretch; but think not to escape, for thou shalt have thy recompence.
[ExitLorenzo.
Lopezsolus.
Why, what a mischievous jade is this, to make such an uproar in a family the first day of her marriage! Why my master won't so much as get a honey-moon out of her; I'gad let her go. If she be thus in her soft and tender youth, she'll be rare company at threescore: well, he may do as he pleases, but were she my dear, I'd let her go——Such a foot at her tail, I'd make the truth bounce out at her mouth, like a pellet out of a pot-gun.
[Exit.