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Fran. My Daughter's a Lady, Sir. Bal. And you, Mistress, you have married Antonio, and left the Governor. Cla. I thought him the fitter Match, Sir, and hope your Pardon. Jul. We cannot scape. Fran. But how came you hither, Gentlemen, how durst you venture? Seb. Whither, Sir, to my own Son's house; is there such danger in coming a mile or two out of Cadiz? Fran. Is the Devil in you, or me, or both?
Call her, I care not if she heare me, I councell better than your physician: every night drinke a good cup of muscadine, you will not have moysture left to ingender spitle to cleanse thy mouth ith morning. Cla. Will you goe? Sister, I have shakd mine off. What stayes this nifle for? Crac. Nay, call me what you will, she is my prise, And I will keepe her. Captaine, to her Captaine. Suc.
A Pox of his honourable hand, 't had like to have spoiled all, well, since it must be so, I am content. Guil. So, now Peace is concluded on, on all sides, what shall we do to day besides eating and drinking in abundance; for to morrow I shall get my self in order for my Marriage. Cla. What thinks your Honour of taking the Air upon the Sea, in a Galley, a League or two? Guil.
Ha, ha, ha, I can't forbear with the thoughts on't. Cla. And to see the Governor his Man? Jac. Ah, what a Jest that would be too Ha, ha, ha! but here comes Isabella; let's puff up her Pride with Flatteries on her Beauty. Enter Isabella looking in a Glass, and seeing her Face. Isa. Cla. Only those Friends that wish you better Fortune than this day promises. Jac.
SCENE III. The inside of the House. Enter Clara, Julia, Antonio, Jacinta running to 'em. Jac. He has seen Don Carlos, and they have been in great discourse together, I cou'd not hear one word, but you'll have it at both ears anon, I'll warrant you. Ha, he's coming. Enter Francisco. Cla. Jac. Fran. So the Plot's at last discover'd, he was a Cavalier of his Parole. Jul. Who speak you of? Fran.
Do you think so, Jacinta? Ha, ha, ha. Jac. That Laugh again, oh Heavens, how it charms! Cla. And how graceful 'tis! Jac. Ah, nothing but a great gilt Coach will become it. Cla. With six Spanish Mares. Jac. And embroidered Trappings. Cla. With four Lackeys. Jac. Cla. She's evidently design'd for a Person of Quality. Isa.
Why, 'tis the great Turk, a Queen of Turkey. Isa. Guil. May I believe thee, but when thou seest the difference, alas, I am but a Chimney hum, nothing to a great Turk. Isa. Is he so rare a thing? Guz. Jul. Alas, what shall we poor Women do? Men. Isa. We must e'en have patience, Madam, and be ravisht. Cla. Ravisht! Heavens forbid. Jac.
Ile cure thy ague instantly: I shall, Like some insatiate drunkard of the age, But take a cup to much and next day sleepe An hower more then ordinary. Tho. Heaven and good Angells guard you! Cla. My deare Mother! Mag. My gratious Lady! Lady. What inhumaine creatures Are you that rob me of the priviledge Of wellcome death, which I will run to meet Spight of your malice! Tho.
You know dey ain't no tukky roaster under dat sody-water. I 'cla' 'fo' Gawd, ef a white man wuz to eat a flapjack, an' it did n' give him de belly-ache, I 'cla' 'fo' Gawd he'd git out a search-wa'nt to see ef some nigger had n' stole dat flapjack goin' down his th'oat." "Mr. Bobbs has to do his work, Mother," put in Peter. "I don't suppose he enjoys it any more than we do."
Now thou knowst it, Methinks I see confusion in thy lookes Prepard to blast me. Cla. Heaven forbid it I Should ere conceive the meanest thought of ill Of you, my parent.
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