 | The Carnival |  |
SCENA III.
Enter Alvaredo, Elvira.Elv.
Nay, Sir, I find, in all appearance,
You have much reason to be satisfi'd,
But yet there remain some scruples
That I must cleer my self in.
Alv.
I hope I am not quite so Dull,
If they concern my Honour,
But I should be as scrupulous
As do's befit a Gentleman to be; and Madam—
67
Nay, Signior, you mistake me now,
I have been, and am your Sisters friend;
I only must ask some questions.
Alv.
Madam, what you please;
They will all be here presently.
[Enter Servant.
Serv.
Madam, here is Musick and Masquers
Come, one I believe is Signior Antonio.
Elv.
Bid them enter.
[Exit Servant.
Alv.
Madam, will yee once more repeat,
This hand and heart is mine?
[Enter Anto. &c.
Elv.
I do. Oh you are welcome, Gentlemen.
Serv.
Madam, here is more Company.
Elv.
Let them come in. Come Brother, you may
Unmask, you are known;
Besides, you must be witness of a thing
That does concern me highly.
Anto.
What is't pray, Madam?
Elv.
By and by you shall see.
[Enter Ferdinando, Beatrice, Felices, Miranda, Sancho, Quintagona, and Servants.
Elv.
Madam, you are welcome hither;
I must beg the favour to speak with this
Gentleman in private; you will not sure
Be jealous, Madam.
Bea.
Oh Madam, you wrong your Servant.
[Elv. Ferdi. aside.
Elv.
Now, Sir, what good excuse
Have you fram'd for your disloyalty?
Fer.
Such as must crave your mercy,
Not justifie my Crime.
Elv.
But I must claim your Promise,
That nothing can dispense you from:
Speak, Sir, ought not I to have the fair disposal of yee?
Fer.
Here, Madam, dispose my life:
[draws a Dagger.
I do submit unto your Censure.
Elv.
No, Sir, your Person I will dispose of: Come, nay, come,
You have spar'd my blushes,
68
Here, Madam, let me close your hands:
And pray, Sir, do as much for me here.
Fer.
With all my Soul:
And may the Heavens continue still
Your Love and Beauty.
Alv.
Thanks, friend, I hope you still were so,
And I mistaken in my Doubts.
Fer.
I am, and ever will be so,
Or let your Sister hate me,
And that's the worst of Curses.
Fel.
Madam, I sent you Musick:
One Dance is both proper for the time,
And indeed looks something like the latter
End of a Play, which should go off merrily:
Only one thing is wanting, I should be married
Too here; but plague on't, she's too young.
Mir.
And you too mad.
Fel.
Well, by that time you are fit for me
I shall be fit for you; three or four years
Will strike deep towards gravity:
In the mean time, here's my hand, If I like yee then
As well as I like you now, thou shalt have me
Round and all sound.
Mir.
'Tis well if I have.
Nay, prithee sweet Quintagona blush not,
We know that thou art married,
Meerly stole away by this young Gallant,
Signior Sancho.
Fel.
Come, come, strike up.
The Dance.
Fel.
Ladies, how like you this?
Gentlemen, do you all speak; are ye pleas'd?
'Tis new; for I dare boldly say,
'Tis the first Carnival y'ere saw in Play.
| The Carnival | |