Volume Iii Part 39 (1/2)

_Cla_. With four Lackeys.

_Jac_. And a Page at the tail on't.

_Cla_. She's evidently design'd for a Person of Quality.

_Isa_. Besides I have so natural an Inclination for a Don, that if my Father do force me to marry this small Creature of a Merchant, I shall make an Intrigue with some body of Quality.

_Cla_. Cou'd you but manage it well, and keep it from _Antonio_.

_Isa_. Keep it from _Antonio_,--is it think you for a little silly Cit, to complain when a Don does him the Honour to visit his Lady? Marry, that were pretty.

_Enter_ Francisco, _and_ Lopez.

_Fran_. How, a Count to speak with me! with me, I say,--here at _Cadiz_.

_Lop_. A Count, Sir, and to speak with you.

_Fran_. Art sure 'tis not the Governor?--I'll go lock up my Wife.

_Lop_. Governor, Sir! No, no, 'tis a mere Stranger, Sir, a rare Count whom I never saw all days of my life before.

_Fran_. And with me wou'd he speak? I hope he comes not to my Wife.

_Enter_ Julia.

_Jul_. Oh Husband, the delicatest fine Person of Quality, just alighted at the Door, Husband.

_Fran_. What, have you seen him then? the Devil's in these Women, and there be but a Loop-hole to peep out of they'll spy a man,--I'm resolved to see this thing,--go, retire, you Women, here's Men coming up.

_Isa_. And will Men eat us?

_Fran_. No, but they may do worse, they may look on ye, and Looking breeds Liking; and Liking, Love; and Love a d.a.m.n'd thing, call'd Desire; and Desire begets the Devil and all of Mischief to young Wenches--Get ye gone in, I say--here's a Lord coming--and Lords are plaguy things to Women.

_Isa_. How, a Lord! oh, heavens! _Jacinta_, my Fan, and set my Hair in order, oh, the G.o.ds! I would not but see a Lord for all the World! how my Heart beats already--keep your Distance behind, _Jacinta_,--bless me, how I tremble--a little farther, _Jacinta_.

_Fran_. Come, come, Huswife, you shall be married anon, and then let your Husband have the plague of you--but for my Gentlewoman,--Oh Lord --they're here.

_Enter_ Guiliom, Carlos, _and_ Pages, _&c_.

_Gull_. How now, Fellow, where's this old Don _Francisco_?

_Fran_. I'm the Person, Sir.

_Isa_. Heavens, what an Air he has!

_Guil_. Art thou he? Old Lad, how dost thou do? Hah!

_Fran_. I don't know.

_Guil_. Thou knowest me not it seems, old Fellow, hah!