Act I Scene I.
SCENE, Don John’s Lodgings.
Enter Don John beating Lopez.
Lop. Hold, Sir, hold; there’s enough in all Conscience; I’m reasonable, I ask no more; I’m content.
Don John. Then there’s a double Content, you Dog, and a Brace of Contents more into the Bargain. Now is’t well?
[Striking again and again.
Lop. O, mighty well, Sir; you’ll never mend it; pray leave it as ’tis.
Don John. Look you, you Jackanapes, if ever I hear an Offer at your impertinent Advice again——
Lop. And why, Sir, will you stifle the most useful of my Qualifications?
Don John. Either, Sirrah, I pass for a very great Blockhead with you, or you are pleas’d to reckon much upon my Patience.
Lop. Your Patience, Sir, indeed is great: I feel at this Time forty Proofs on’t upon my Shoulders: But really, Sir, I wou’d advise you to——
Don John. Again! I can bear thee no longer. Here, Pen and Ink, I’ll give thee thy Discharge: Did I take you for a Valet, or a Privy-Counsellor, Sir?
Lop. ’Tis confess’d, Sir, you took me but for humble Employment; but my Intention was agreeably to surprize you with some superior Gifts of Nature, to your faithful Slave. I profess, my noble Master, a most perfect Knowledge of Men and Manners. Yours, gracious Sir, (with all Respect I speak it) are not irreprehensible. And I’m afraid in Time, Sir, I am indeed, they’ll riggle you into some ill-favour’d Affair, whence, with all my Understanding, I shall be puzzled to bring you off.
Don John. Very well, Sir.
Lop. And therefore, Sir, it is, that I, poor Lopez as I am, sometimes take leave to maralize.
Don John. Go, go, moralize in the Market-place: I’m quite worn out. Once more, march.
Lop. Is the Sentence definitive?
Don John. Positive.
Lop. Then, pray, let us come to account, and see what Wages are due.
Don John. Wages! Refund what you have had, you Rascal, you, for the plague you have given me.
Lop. Nay, if I must lose my Money; then let me claim another Right: Losers have leave to speak. Therefore, advance, my Tongue, and say thy Pleausure; tell this Master of mine, he shou’d die with shame at the Life he leads: So much unworthy of a Man of Honour: Tell him——
Don John. I’ll hear no more.
Lop. You shall indeed, Sir.
Don John. Here, take thy Money, and begone.
Lop. Counters all; adieu, you glistring Spangles of the World; farewel, ye Tempters of the Great, not me. Tell him——
Don John. Stay.
Lop. Go on; tell him he’s worse among the Women than a Ferret among the Rabbits; at one and all, from the Princess to the Tripe-Woman; handsome, ugly, old Women and Children, all go down.
Don John. Very well.
Lop. It is, indeed, Sir, and so are the Stories you tell them to bring them to your Matters. The Handsome, she’s all Divinity, to be sure; the Ugly, she’s so agreeable, were it not for her Virtue, she’d be over-run with Lovers; the light, airy, Flipflap, she kills him with her Motions; the dull, heavy-tail’d Maukin melts him down with her Modesty; the scragged, lean, pale Face has a Shape for Destruction; the fat over-grown Sow has an Air of Importance; the tall aukward Trapes with her Majesty wounds; the little, short Trundle-tail shoots a Je-ne-sçay-quoy: In a Word, they have all something for him——and he has something for them all.
Don John. And thus, you Fool, by a general Attack, I keep my Heart my own; lie with them that like me, and care not Sixpence for them that don’t.
Lop. Well said, well said; a very pretty Amusement, truly! But, pray, Sir, by your leave (Ceremony aside) since you are pleas’d to clear up into Conversation, what mighty Matters do you expect from boarding a Woman, you know, is already Heart and Soul engag’d to another?
Don John. Why, I expect her Heart and Soul shou’d disengage in a Week. If you live a little longer with me, Sirrah, you’ll know how to instruct your next Master to the purpose; and therefore, that I may charitably equip you for a new Service, now I’m turning you out of my own, I’ll let you know, that when a Woman loves a Man best, she’s in the most hopeful way of betraying him; for Love, like Fortune, turns upon a Wheel, and is very much given to rising and falling.
Lop. Like enough: But as much upon the Weathercock as the Ladies are; there are some the Wind must blow hard to fetch them about: When such a sturdy Hussy falls in your Honour’s way, what account may Things turn to then, an’t please ye?
Don John. They turn to a Bottle, you Puppy.
Lop. I find they’ll always turn to something; but when you pursue a poor Woman, only to make her Lover jealous, what Pleasure can you take in that?
Don John. That Pleasure.
Lop. Look you there, again.
Don John. Why, Sirrah, d’ye think there’s no Pleasure in spoiling their Sport, when I can’t make my own?
Lop. O! to a good-natur’d Man, be sure there must; but, suppose, instead of ‘fending and proving with his Mistress, he shou’d come to——a——parrying and thrusting with you; what becomes of your Joy, then, my noble Master?
Don John. Why, do you think I’m afraid to fight, you Rascal?
Lop. I thought we were talking of what we lov’d, not what we fear’d, Sir.
Don John. Sir, I love every Thing that leads to what I love most.
Lop. I know, Sir, you have often fought upon these Occasions.
Don John. Therefore, that has been no stop to my Pleasures.
Lop. But you have never been kill’d once, Sir; and when that happens, you will for ever lose the Pleasure of——
Don John. [Striking him.] Breaking your Head, you Rascal, which will afflict me heartily. See who knocks so hard.
[Knocking.
Lop. Somebody that thinks I can hear no better than you think I can feel.
Enter Don Guzman.
Don Guz. Don John de Alvarada, is he here?
Lop. There’s the Man. Shew me such another, if you can find him.
[Aside.
Don Guz. Don John, I desire to speak with you alone.
Don John. You may speak before this Fellow, Sir; he’s trusty.
Don Guz. ’Tis an Affair of Honour, Sir.
Don John. Withdraw, Lopez.
Lop. Behind the Door I will, and no farther. [Aside.] This Fellow looks as if he came to save me a broken Head.
[Lopez retires.
Don Guz. I call myself Don Guzman de Torrellas; you know what Blood I spring from; I am a Cadet, and by consequence, not rich; but I am esteem’d by Men of Honour: I have been forward to expose myself in Battles abroad, and I have met with Applause in our Feasts at home.
Lop. So much by way of Introduction.
[Aside.
Don John. I understand your Merit, Sir, and shou’d be glad to do as much by your Business.
Don Guz. Give Attention, and you’ll be instructed. I love Leonora, and from my Youth have done so. Long she rejected my Sighs, and despised my Tears, but my Constancy at last hath vanquish’d. I have found the way to her Heart, and nothing is wanting to compleat my Joy, but the Consent of her Father, whom I cannot yet convince, that the Wants in my Fortune are recompens’d by the Merits of my Person.
Lop. He’s a very dull Fellow, indeed.
[Aside.
Don Guz. In the mean while, the Object of my Vows is a sharer in my Grief, and the only Cordial we have is the Pleasure of a secret Conversation, thro’ a small Breach I have made in a thin Partition that divides our Lodgings. I trust you, Don John, with this important Secret; Friend or Enemy, you are noble, therefore keep it; I charge your Honour with it.
Lop. You cou’d not put it in better Hands.
[Aside.
Don Guz. But more; my Passion for this Lady is not hid; all Valencia is acquainted with my Wishes, and approves my Choice. You alone, Don John de Alvarada, seeming ignorant of my Vows, dare traverse my Amour.
Don John. Go on.
Lop. These Words import War; lie close, Lopez.
[Aside.
Don Guz. You are the Argus of our Street and the Spy of Leonora; whether Diana by her borrow’d Light supplies the Absence of the Astrea of Day, or that the Shades of Night cover the Earth with impenetrable Darkness; you still attend till Aurora’s Return, under the Balcony of that adorable Beauty.
Don John. So?
Don Guz. Wherever she moves, you still follow as her Shadow, at Church, at Plays: Be her Business with Heaven or Earth, your Importunity is such, you’ll share it.
Lop. He is a forward Fellow, that’s the Truth on’t.
[Aside.
Don Guz. But what’s still farther, you take the Liberty to copy me; my Words, my Actions, every Motion is no sooner mine, but your’s. In short, you ape me, Don; and to that point, I once design’d to stab myself, and try if you wou’d follow me in that too.
Lop. No, there the Monkey wou’d have left you.
[Aside.
Don Guz. But to conclude.
Don John. ’Tis Time.
Don Guz. My Patience, Don, is now no more; and I pronounce, that if henceforth I find you under Leonora’s Window, who never wish’d, fond Man, to see you there; I, by the ways of Honour, shall fix you in another Station. I leave you to consider on’t.——Farewel.
[Exit Don Guz.
Don John. Hold, Sir, we had e’en as good do this honourable Deed now.
Re-enter Lopez.
Lop. No, pray, Sir, let him go, and maybe you mayn’t have Occasion to do it at all.
Don John. I thought at first the Coxcomb came upon another Subject, which wou’d have embarrassed me much more.
Lop. Now this was a Subject wou’d have embarrass’d me enough in all Conscience.
Don John. I was afraid he came to forbid me seeing his Sister, Isabella, with whom I’m upon very good Terms.
Lop. Why, now, that’s a hard Case, when you have got a Man’s Sister, you can’t leave him his Mistress.
Don John. No, Changeling, I hate him enough, to love every Woman that belongs to him: and the Fool has so provok’d me by this Threatning, that I believe I shall have a Stroke at his Mother, before I think myself even with him.
Lop. A most admirable way to make up Accounts, truly!
Don John. A Son of a Whore! s’death, I did not care Sixpence for the Slut before, but now I’ll have her Maidenhead in a Week, for fear the Rogue shou’d marry her in ten Days.
Lop. Mum; here’s her Father: I’ll warrant this old Spark comes to correct our Way of living too.
Enter Don Felix.
Don Fel. Don John!
Don John. Don Felix! do I see you in my poor Dwelling? Pray, to what lucky Accident do I owe this Honour?
Don Fel. That I may speak to you without Constraint, pray send away your Servant.
Lop. What the Pox have I done to ’em, they are all so uneasy at my Company?
[Aside.
Don John. Give us Chairs, and leave the Room.
Lop. If this old Fellow comes to quarrel with us too, he’ll at least do us less harm.
[Aside.
Don Fel. Won’t you retire, Friend?
[Looking behind.
Don John. Be gone, Sirrah.
Lop. aside.] Pox take ye——you old Prig, you: But I shall be even with you.
[Lopez hides himself.
Don Fel. You know me, Sir?
Don John. I do, Sir.
Don Fel. That I call myself——
Don John. Don Felix.
Don Fel. That I am of the House of——
Don John. Cabrera, one of the first of Valencia.
Don Fel. That my Estate is——
Don John. Great.
Don Fel. You know that I have some Reputation in the World?
Don John. I know your Reputation equals your Birth.
Don Fel. And you are not ignorant, that Heaven, for the Consolation of my grey Hairs, has given me an only Daughter, who is not deform’d?
Don John. Beauteous as Light.
Don Fel. Well shap’d, witty, and endow’d with—
Don John. All the good Qualities of Mind and Body.
Don Fel. Since you are satisfy’d with all this, hearken, I pray, with Attention, to the Business that brings me hither.
Don John. I shall.
Don Fel. We all know, Don John, some by their own Experience, some by that of others, how nice a Gentleman’s Honour is, and how easily tarnish’d; an Eclaircissement manag’d with Prudence, often prevents Misfortunes, that, perhaps, might be upon the Point of attending us. I have thought it my Duty to acquaint you, that I have seen your Designs upon my Daughter: You pass Nights entire under her Window, as if you were searching an Opportunity to get into my House; there is nobody in the Town but has taken Notice of your Proceedings; you give the Publick a Subject for disadvantageous Discourse; and tho’ in reality Leonora’s Virtue receives no Prejudice by it, her Reputation daily runs some Risque. My Years have taught me to judge right of Things; and yet, I have not been able to decide what your End can be; you can’t regard my Daughter on a foot of Gallantry; you know her Virtue, and my Birth too well; and for a Wife you seem to have no Thought, since you have yet made no Demand to me: What then is your Intention? You have heard, perhaps, I have hearken’d to a Gentleman of Toledo, a Man of Merit. I own I have, and I expect him daily here; but, Don John, if ’tis that which hinders you from declaring in form, I’ll ease you of a great deal of Trouble, which the Customs of the World impose upon these Occasions, and, in a Word, I’ll break with him, and give you Leonora.
Lop. Good.
[Aside.
Don Fel. You don’t answer me! What is’t that troubles you?
Don John. That I have been such a Sot, old Gentleman, to hear you with so much Patience.
[Rising.
Don Fel. How, Don! I’m more astonish’d at your Answer, than I was with your Silence.
Don John. Astonish’d! Why han’t you talk’d to me of Marriage? He asks me to marry, and wonders what I complain of!
Don Fel. ’Tis well——’tis well, Don John, the Outrage is violent! You insult me in your own House. But, know, Sir——
[Rising.
Don John. But, know, Sir, there needs no Quarrel, if you please, Sir; I like your Daughter very well; but for marrying her——Serviteur.
Don Fel. Don Guzman de Torrellas has not less Merit than you, Don.
Don John. Agreed; what then?
Don Fel. And yet I have refus’d him my Daughter.
Don John. Why then, you have used him better than you have done me, which I take very unkindly.
Don Fel. I have us’d you, Sir——
Don John. Us’d me, Sir? you have us’d me very ill, to come into my own House to seduce me.
Don Fel. What Extravagance!
Don John. What Persecution!
Don Fel. Am I then to have no other Answer?
Don John. Methinks, you have enough in all Conscience.
Don Fel. Promise me, at least, you’ll cease to love my Daughter.
Don John. I won’t affront your Family so far, neither.
Lop. I’gad my Master shines to-day.
[Aside.
Don Fel. Know, Don, that I can bear no more.
Lop. If he cou’d, I think there’s no more to lay upon him.
[Aside.
Don Fel. If I find you continue to importune Leonora, I shall find a way to satisfy my offended Honour, and punish your Presumption.
Don John. You shall do what you please to me, provided you don’t marry me.
Don Fel. Know, Alvarada, there are ways to revenge such outrageous Affronts as these.
Don John. I won’t marry.
Don Fel. ’Tis enough.
[Exit Don Felix.
Re-enter Lopez.
Lop. So; the old Fellow’s gone at last, and has carry’d great Content along with him.
[Aside.
Don John. Lopez.
Lop. Sir——
Don John. What dost think? He wou’d have marry’d me!
Lop. Yes, he had found his Man. But you have been even with him.
Don John. What! thou hast heard us then?
Lop. Or I were no Valet: But, pray, what does your Honour intend to do now? Will you continue the Siege of a Place, where, ’tis probable, they will daily augment the Fortifications, when there are so many open Towns you may march into, without the Trouble of opening the Trenches.
Don John. I am going, Lopez, to double my Attacks: I’ll beat up her Quarters six Times a-night; I am now downright in Love: the Difficulties pique me to the Attempt, and I’ll conquer or I’ll die.
Lop. Why, to confess the Truth, Sir, I find you much upon my Taste in this Matter: Difficulties are the Rocambole of Love; I never valu’d an easy Conquest in my life. To rouse my Fire; the Lady must cry out, as softly as ever she can, Have a Care, my Dear, my Mother has seen us: My Brothers suspect me; my Husband may surprize us: O, dear Heart, have a Care, I pray! Then, I play the Devil: But, when I come to a Fair-one, where I may hang up my Cloak upon a Peg, get into my Gown and Slippers—
Don John. Impudent Rogue!
[Aside.
Lop. See her stretch’d upon the Couch, in great Security, with—My Dear, come kiss me, we have nothing to fear—I droop, I yawn, I sleep.
Don John. Well, Sir, whatever you do with your Fair-one, I am going to be very busy with mine; I was e’en almost weary of her, but Guzman and this old Fellow have reviv’d my dying Fire; and so, have at her.
Lop. ’Tis all mighty well, Sir; mighty well, Sir, as can be in the World. But, if you wou’d have the Goodness to consider en passant, or so, a little now and then about Swords and Daggers, and Rivals and old Fellows, and Pistols and great Guns, and such like Baubles, only now and then at leisure, Sir, not to interrupt Things of more Consequence.
Don John. Thou art a cowardly Rascal, I have often consider’d that.
Lop. Ay, that’s true, Sir; and yet a Blunderbuss is presently discharged out of a Garret-Window.
Don John. Come, no more Words, but follow me: How now! what Impertinence have we here now, to stop me?
Enter Don Pedro.
Lop. ’Tis Don Pedro, or I’m a Dog.
Don John. Impossible! Don Pedro return’d!
Don Ped. ’Tis I, my dearest Friend; I’m come to forget all the Miseries of a long Absence in one happy Embrace.
[They embrace.
Don John. I’m overjoy’d to see you.
Don Ped. Mine’s not to be exprest. What, Friend Lopez here still! How dost do, Lopez? What, dost not know me?
Lop. As well as my Father’s Seal, Sir, when he sends me a Bill of Exchange.
Don Ped. Just as he was, I find, Galliard still.
Lop. I find it very unwholesome to be otherwise, Sir.
Don John. You have then quitted the Service in Flanders, I suppose.
Don Ped. I have so, Friend! I have left the Ensigns of Mars, and am listing myself in a softer Militia.
Don John. Explain, pray.
Don Ped. Why, when your Father’s Death oblig’d you to leave Brussels, and return hither to the plentiful Fortune he left you; I stay’d in Flanders, very trist for your Lost, and past three Years in the Trade of War. About two Months since, my Father writ to me from Toledo, that he was going to marry me very advantageously at Valencia: He sent me the Picture of the Lady, and I was so well pleased with it, that I immediately got my Congé and embark’d at Dunkirk; I had a quick Passage to the Groyne, from whence, by the way of Madrid, I am come hither with all the Speed I cou’d. I have, you must know, been two Days in Town, but I have lain Incognito, that I might inform myself of the Lady’s Conduct I’m to marry; and I have discover’d, that she’s serv’d by two Cavaliers of Birth and Merit. But tho’ they have both given many Proofs of a most violent Passion, I have found, for the Quiet of my Honour, that this virtuous Lady, out of Modesty or Prudence, has shewn a perfect Indifference to them and their Gallantries; her Fortune is considerable, her Birth is high, her Manners irreproachable, and her Beauty so great, that nothing but my Love can equal it.
Don John. I have hearken’d to you, Don Pedro, with a great deal of Attention, and Heaven’s my Witness, I have a mighty Joy in seeing you; but the Devil fetch me, it makes my Heart bleed, to hear you are going to be married.
Don Ped. Say no more of that, I desire you; we have always been Friends, and I earnestly beg we ever may be so; but I am not come to ask Counsel about my Marriage; my Party is taken, and my Inquiries have so much heightened my Desire, that nothing can henceforth abate it. I must, therefore, expect from you, dear Friend, that you won’t oppose it, but that you’ll aid me in hast’ning the Moment of my Happiness.
Don John. Since ’tis so impossible for you to resolve for your own Good, I must submit to what you’ll have me: But are not we to know the Name of this Piece of Rarity, that is to do you this good Turn?
Don Ped. You’ll know it presently; for I’m going to carry you to her House.
Don John. You shall tell me, at least, who are her two Gallants.
Don Ped. One, they cou’d not tell me his Name; t’ other is——But before we talk any more of these Affairs, can you let me dispose of Lopez, till the Return of a Servant, I sent three Days ago to——
Don John. Carry News of you to Papa, I suppose.
Don Ped. You are right; the good Man is thirty Leagues off, and I have not seen him these six Years.
Don John. Lopez, do you wait upon Don Pedro.
Lop. With all my Heart. It’s at least a Suspension of Boxes of the Ear, and Kicks of the Backside.
[Aside.
Don Ped. Then, honest Lopez, with your Master’s Leave, go to the New-Inn, the King of France on Horseback, and see if my Servant’s return’d; I’ll be there immediately, to charge thee with a Commission of more Importance.
Lop. I shall perform your Orders, Sir, both to your Satisfaction, and my own Reputation.
[Exit Lopez.
Don John. Very quaint. Well, old Acquaintance, you are going to be married then? ’Tis resolved: Ha!
Don Ped. So says my Star.
Don John. The foolishest Star that has said any Thing a great while.
Don Ped. Still the same, I see! Or, more than ever, resolv’d to love nothing.
Don John. Love nothing! Why, I’m in Love at this very Time.
Don Ped. With what?
Don John. A Woman.
Don Ped. Impossible!
Don John. True.
Don Ped. And how came you in love with her?
Don John. Why, I was ordered not to be in love with her.
Don Ped. Then, there’s more Humour than Love in’t.
Don John. There shall be what you please in’t. But I shan’t quit the Gentlewoman, till I have convinced her there’s something in’t.
Don Ped. Mayn’t I know her Name?
Don John. When you have let me into your conjugal Affection.
Don Ped. Pray, stay here but till I have sent Lopez to my Father-in-law; I’ll come back, and carry you with me in a Moment.
Don John. I’ll expect you.
Don Ped. Adieu, dear Friend! May I in earnest see you quickly in Love!
[Exit Don Pedro.
Don John. May I, without a Jest, see you quickly a Widower.
Don John solus.
He comes, he says, to marry a Woman of Quality that has two Lovers——If it should be Leonora——But, why she? There are many, I hope, in that Condition in Valencia——I’m a little embarrass’d about it, however——
Friendship, take heed; if Woman interfere,
Be sure the Hour of thy Destruction’s near.
[Exit.