 | The Successfull Straingers |  |
SCENE. III.
Don Lopez House.Enter Carlos, and Dorothea.
Car.
Madam, this Strangers most amazing Insolence
My Honour must Correct, or else be Censured;
Spain's Custom pleads against such Liberty,
If we allow it now 'twill grow upon us.
Dor.
Your Honour ought to let him pass neglected,
To question him would argue a suspition,
Let the thing unregarded sleep in Silence.
Car.
Unpunish'd the Insulter may presume,
His Arrogance is Cherish'd.
Dor.
If the conceit can give him satisfaction,
Let him Enjoy it since 'tis all he'le meet with.
Carl.
How this affected carlessness betrays her;
Madam, with leave he must return your Gloves.
Dor.
Why, are they such a Fortune?
Carl.
Great Fortune, and great favour to a Stranger
The Splendid'st Dons that strut in shining Spain
Would Worship 'em above their Popular Saint.
Dor.
I should be Guilty then o'th Superstition,
If Bigotted admirers so esteem me;
I'm safer far in his Indifference,
Which can't affect such a Blaspheming zeal.
Carl.
But Madam, I must urge again,
Our Countreys Custom is enchroacht upon.
Dor.
The Custom of our Country none can match,
Nor is there any Nation under Heav'n
Guilty of such Barbaritys as this:
What is but decent Curtesy elswhere,
Falsly pretending honour prompts you to't,
As honour were a Countenance for baseness,
No, 'tis the just mistrust upon your usage
In your Confining of us every way;
And If Suspition ne're so poor but catch you,
Never ask why, but mischief must ensue.
Carl.
Madam your Argument has sure been Study'd,
That thus you shew our Country all at once;
Me thinks you argue with more tenderness
For this same Stranger then your virtue ought.
Dor.
There peeps the nature of your Souls again.
You'd make us leave the world before we're wives;
Were I but Mistress of my self, I would not
Be a Nun out of a Cloyster, That Free-born
Woman that a Spaniard weds, may she be
Kept from what she marrys for.
Carl.
'Tis well you have a Father to Controle you Lady.
Dor.
That's my Jail-keeper whilst I am single,
You'l shortly take the Office off his hands:
Oh happy England, Holland, France, where women
Have the freedom of the Light.
Carl.
The Sun is not so fierce upon 'em there,
Our Climate heats our blood and makes us wanton.
Dor.
I never yet heard any of our Wives
Complain o'th heat, o'th Climate in their Husbands:
Carl.
Madam,
Lop.
within.
—Why Dory, Dory,
Dorothea my Darling.
Dor.
Seignior.
Enter Don Lopez who starts at Don Carlos.
Carl.
Seignior, Good day, I am glad to see you well.
Lop.
Signior yours.
Do you love my Daughter Don Carlos?
Carl.
D'you doubt it Sir?
Lop.
I hope I need not.
Dor.
What means he?
Lop.
Answer me one thing: say she should dye, or should be forc'd
from thee, or any accident should rob thee of her, would it not much
torment thee?
Carl.
Wretches in boyling Lead, or steep'd in Snow,
Not all the Plagues I could Invent for him
Should rob me of her, could match the
Torment such a Loss would bring.
Better and better.
Carl.
I am glad it pleases you.
Lop.
And I am glad she pleases you.
Carl.
Good Sir, what ails your Arm?
Lop.
No matter for my Arm, since thou lov'st my
[Dor. weeps
Daughter: why Dory Dory, Fathers none Joy why dost thou weep?
prithee be good Company with me; For my part I am so pleas'd with
what he has assured me, that my Arm that has Pain'd me, did pain me,
does pain me, shall pain me, neither has, does, or did, or ever shall more,
Call up my Servants.
Carl.
Are you then agreed?
Lop.
Ay, ay, call up my Servants, you'r sure you love her:
Carl.
By all that's holy.
Lop.
Enough, enough, why where are my Servants? Certain you
love her.
Carl.
Do I live Sir.
Lop.
Why Dorothea, love none but her?
Carl.
None Sir.
Lop.
Why, my hearts delight Dory little Dory, nor will you ever love
any but her?
Carl.
Never, Oh blessing!
Dor.
Oh Curse!
Lop.
Swear it and witness it.
[Enter Servants
Carl.
May Heav'n for ever Curse me
[To his Servants
Both here and hereafter if ever
[kneels.
I Love ought but Dorothea.
Lop.
And may Heav'n for ever Curse me here and hereafter, if ever
thou seest her more.
[pulls her veil down
Carl.
What said you Sir?
[Rises
Lop.
Lord Sir, I can hear without that noise, and you shall hear it
again that you shall, never see her more: So either Boyl thy self, or
Starve thy self, Shoot, Broyl, Fry, Drown, Hang or Damn thy self,
As the Devil and you shall think fit.
Car.
Impossible.
Lop.
Nay I believe you'l scarce do any of 'em.
Carl.
You mock me sure.
Lop.
Yes, yes, as your Father did me.
Carl.
My Father.
Lop.
Ay, think upon pains to torture him, for he has rob'd thee of
her; go out of my house; the next time my doors inclose thee, the
building is thy Monument.
Carl.
Thinkst thou that I will bear this tamely?
I tell thee Lopez thou shalt smart for this.
Lop.
I tell thee Carlos, I do smart for this Daughter,
Dor.
Good buy to you Sir.
[walks up to Carlos and Smiles
Exit.
Carl.
Damnation.
Lop.
That be your Doom.
For if you lov'd my Child your Hell's to come.
Carl.
If I am Damn'd I'le not alone be lost,
Lopez thy Family attends my Ghost.
[Exeunt Severally.
| The Successfull Straingers | |