THE Comical History …

THE Comical History OF DON QUIXOTE, As it is ACTED AT THE QUEENS THEATRE IN Dorset-Garden, By Their Majesties Servants.

PART I.

Written by Mr. D'Urfey.

LONDON, Printed for Samuel Briscoe, at the Corner of Charles-street, in Russel-street, Covent-Garden, 1694.

To Her GRACE THE Dutche [...]s of ORMOND.

DON Quixote having not only been well Receiv'd upon the St [...]ge, but also having clear'd himself with Reputation▪ from the Slunder and Prejudice which malicious Criticks h [...]d resolv'd [...]pon, to [...]ully and blast him; I could not forbear suffer­ing him to aspi [...]e to this Second Honour of Dedicating himself to your GRACE, from whose Noble and unbyass'd Iudgment, he may assure himself of an Obliging Reception, and a Generous Security.

The Honour your Grace, and the rest of the Nobility and Gentry did me to see this Play in its Rehearsal or Undress, was a happy presage of its future good fortune; the Stars were all in conjunction to do me good; and I think I may safely say, without offence, That when the Ladies came to my Third Day, there never was at this time o'th' year, in the Hemisphere of the Play-house, so dazling and numerou [...] a Constellation seen before.

'Tis, Mad [...]m, from your GRACE's prosperous Influence that I Date my good Fortune; and I shall be very glad if this poor Off-spring of my Brain, has Merit enough to deserve the Honour of a Smile from so Great and so Good a Patronesse.

Further, I dare not proceed on this Subject, lest I should involve my self rashly, in praise of what is even too great for praise it self, and so only shew my own Ambition, in aspiring to write on so Glorious a Theme, witho [...]t doing you any Iustice, who are always infinitely above what ever my Genius can ever pretend to in that Nature.

The World, that knows the Noble Stock from which you sprung, are sensible that 'tis impossible for you to derogate from such flourishing and signaliz'd Virtues; And those likewise that consider you, as the Happy [Page] [...] [Page] [Page] Consort of the Great ORMOND, whose indefatigable Zeal to Serve His Majesty, and his afflicted Country, with his dearest Blood and Fortune abroad, leaves him scarce leisure to dry your Tears up for the last Parting, or pay his Paternal Blessing to his dear Chil­dren at home, ought to behold your Grace with doubl [...] Reverence, and unite their Prayers and Wishes, that all things in his Absence may tend to your Comfort, satisfaction, and Honour; and that the troublesome Hours may run swiftly off, to give way to the [...]ransporting News of his Happy Return with Fame and Victory.

One of these general Admirers of both your Matchless Leserts and Virtues, I beseech your Grace to believe me, whose Dutious Wishes are constantly Devoted to your [...]ervice—And now particu [...]arly, may the whole Hierarchy of Angels protect ye in the expected Hour of Trouble; and may the Rejoycing Worthy Part o'th' Worl [...] be Blest [...]th another Noble, Loyal, and Valiant OSSORY [...]reat and Admir'd as his Illustrious, and never to be forgotten Grandfather. And that this unvalu'd Blessing, and all other that can make your Grace, and that Truly Noble, and most Dearly Lov'd Heroe abroad, Happy in one another; May Succeed as your Desire, is the Devotion and daily Wish

Of MADAM,
Your Graces most Faithful, And most Humbe Servant T. D'URFEY.

PROLOGUE.

Spoken by Mr. Betterton.
IN hopes the coming Scenes your Mirth will raise
To you, the Iust pretenders to the Bays;
The Poet humbly thus a Reverence pays
And you, the Contraries, that hate the Pains
Of Labour'd Sense, or of Improving Brains:
That feel the Lashes in a well-writ Play,
He bids perk up and smile, the Satyr sleeps to Day.
Our Sancho bears no Rods to make ye smart;
Proverbs, and Merry Iokes, are all his Part.
The Modish Spark may Paint, and [...]ie in Paste,
Wear a huge Steinkirk twisted to his Waste;
And not see here, how foppish he is Dress'd.
The Country Captain, that to Town does come,
From his Militia Troop, and Spouse at home,
To beat a London-Doxies Kettle-Drum:
One, who not only th' whole Pit can prove,
That she for Brass Half-crown has barter'd Love:
But the Eighteen-penny Whore-masters above,
With his Broad Gold may Treat his Pliant Dear,
Without being shown a Bubbled Coxcomb here.
Grave Dons of Bus'ness, may be Bulker's Cullies,
And Crop-ear'd Prentices set up for Bullies,
And not one Horse-whip Lash here, fla [...]g their Follies;
Nay▪ our hot Blades, whose Honour was so small,
They'd not bear Arms, because not Colonels all:
That wish the French may have a mighty Slaughter;
But wish it safely,—on this side o'th' Water.
Yet when the King returns, a [...]e all prepar'd
To beg Commissions in the Standing-Guard;
Even these, the Sons of Shame and Cowardize,
Will 'scape us now, tho' 'tis a cursed Vice.
Our Author has a famous Story chose,
Whose Comick Theme no Person does expose,
But the Knights-Errant; and pray wh [...]re are those?
There was an Age, when Knights with Launce and Shi [...]ld,
Would Right a Ladies Honour in the Field:
To punish Ravishers, to Death would run;
But those Romantick Days— alas, are gone;
Some of our Knights now, rather would make one,
Who finding a young Virgin, by Disaster,
Ty'd to a Tree, would rather tie her faster.
Yet these must 'scape too; so indeed must all
Court-Cuckold-makers now not Iest does maul;
Nor the horn'd herd within you City-Wall.
The Orange-Miss, that here Cajoles the Duke,
May sell her Rotten Ware without rebuke.
The young Coquet, whose Cheats few Fools can dive at,
[...]ay Trade, and th' Old Tope Kniperkin in private.
The Atheist too on Laws Divin [...] may Trample,
And the Plump Iolly Priest get Drunk for Church-Example.

EPILOGUE.

By Sancho, Riding upon his Ass.
'MOngst our Fore-fathers, that pure Wit profest,
There's an old Proverb, That two Heads are best.
Dapple and I have therefore jogg'd this way,
Through sheer good Nature, to defend this Play:
Tho' I've no Friends, yet he (as proof may shew,)
May have Relations here, for ought I know.
For in a Crowd, where various Heads are addle,
May, many an Ass be, that ne'er wore a Saddle.
'Tis then for him that I this Speech intend,
Because I know he is the Poet's Friend;
And, as 'tis said, a parlous Ass once spoke,
When Crab-tree Cudgel did his Rage provoke;
So if you are not civil, 'sbud, I fear,
H [...]'ll speak again,—
And tell the Ladies, every Dapple here.
Take good Advice then, and with kindness win him,
Tho' he looks simply, you don't know what's in him:
He has shrew'd Parts, and proper for his place,
And yet no Plotter, you may see by's Face;
He tells no Lyes, nor does Sedition vent,
Nor ever Brays against the Government:
Then for his Garb he's like the Spanish Nation,
Still the old Mode, he never changes Fashion;
His sober Carriage too you've seen to day,
But for's Religion, troth, I cannot say
Whether for Mason, Burgis, Muggleton,
The House with Steeple, or the House with None;
I rather think he's of your Pagan Crew,
For he ne'er goes to Church—no more than you.
Some that would, by his Looks, guess his Opinion,
Say, he's a Papish; others, a Socinian:
But I believe him, if the truth were known;
As th'rest of the Town-Asses are, of none;
But for some other Gifts—mind what I say,
Never compare, each Dapple has his Day,
Nor anger him, but kindly use this Play;
For should you with him, conceal'd Parts disclose,
Lord! how like Ninneys, would look all the Beaus.

Dramatis Personae.

Men By
Don Quixote.A frantick Gentleman of the Mancha in Spain, that fan­cies himself a Knight Er­rant.Mr. Boen.
Don Fernando.A young Nobleman.Mr. Powel.
Cardenio.A Gentleman, that being treacherously depriv'd of L [...]scinda his Betroth'd Mistress, fell Mad.Mr. Bowman.
Ambrosio.A young Student, and Stranger, a Friend to Chrysostome, and a great Woman-hater.Mr. Verbruggen.
Perez.A Curate.Mr. Cibber.
Nicholas.A merry Drolling Barber.Mr. Harrris.
Sancho Panca.A dry shrewd Country Fel­low, Squire to Don Quixote, a great speaker of Pro­verbs, which he blunders out upon a [...]loccasions, tho' never so far from the pur­pose.Mr. Doggett.
Gines de Passamonte Mr. Haines.
Pallameque,Gally-slaves. 
Lope Ruiz,Gally-slaves. 
Quartrezzo,Gally-slaves. 
Tenorio,Gally-slaves. 
Martinez.Gally-slaves. 
Guarding the Slaves. Officers.
2d. Barber.  
Vincent.A humorous Host, or Inn­keeper.Mr. Bright.
[Page]Women. By
Marcella,A young beautiful Shepher­dess that hates Mankind, and by her scorn occasions the Death of Chrysostome.Mrs. Bracegirdle.
Dorothea,alias, Princess Micomicona, a young Virgin betroth'd to Don Fernando, but de­serted by him for Luscinda, but afterwards reconcil'd.Mrs. Knight.
Luscind [...],A young Lady betroth'd to Cardenio, stollen from a Nunnery by Don Fernan­do, whom she fled thither to avoid.Mrs. Bowman.
Teres [...] Pancha,Wife to Sancho, a silly cre­dulous Country Creature.Mrs. Leigh.
Mary the Buxom,Sancho's Daughter, a Rude, laughing, clownishHoyden, Incomparably Acted byMrs. Verbruggen.
Hostess,  
Maritornes,Her Daughter. 
The Body of Chrysostom.  
Knights of several Orders.  
Shepherds, Shepherdesses, Inchanters, Inchantresses, Singers, Dancers, and Attendants.  

The SCENE, Mancha in Spain,

A Pleasant Champian with a Windmill in Prospect.

THE Comical History OF DON QUIXOTE.

ACT I.

SCENE I. A Champian, with a Windmill at distance.

The Curtain Drawn, Don Quixote is seen Arm'd Cap-a-pee, upon his Horse Rosinante; and Sancho by him upon Dapple hi [...] Ass,— [...]ting a bunch of Haws.
Don Quix.

SAncho.

San.

Sir.

Don Q.

We are now in pursuit of Valorous Ad­ven [...]ures; enter'd into the pleasant Fields of Mon [...]iel, the Air is fragrant and delightf [...]l, and the Valley, near yonder Tuft of Virdant Trees, Cool and Shady; therefore let us alight — And pri­thee take the Bridle from [...]osinante's Head, that he may the better taste the Refreshment of this flowry Pasture; and when thou hast done so, shew the same Courtesie to thy own friend Dapple, for they have born us day with a fortitude and patience that exact from us, an answerable Return of Civility.

San▪

With all my Heart▪ Sir; and I wish that Dapples generosity could be as Civil to me, as I to him, and return me a good refreshing too, for [Page 2] as the Case of my Belly now stands, I find my fortitude and patience in­clining to yield to the Giant Hunger; and methinks, I begin to wish my [...]elf an Ass too, that we might Improve good fellowship, and lovingly Dine together.

Kissing Dapple.
Don Qu.

Do not indulge thy self, too much upon thy Belly, good San­cho; an Epicure contradicts the function of the Squire of a Knight-Errant, entirely; go, do as I have order'd, and a [...] thy return I will give thee the honour of a Conference.

San.

If the Conference were to be over a good piece of Beef and Cab­bage, I could confe [...] no [...] like any Clergyman; but I don't like these windy Exhortations without meat,—

aside.

Now am I to be fed with a [...]edi­ous Tale of Knight-Errantry, when my Guts are all in uproar within me for want of better provision.

Exit with Rosin▪ and Dapple.
Don Qu.

The gross and sordid quality of this Fellow, gives me the better reflection upon my self, for as his thoughts are grovelling like his Nature, so mine are elevate like my Profession: On which let me now consider a little. What art thou? And what wouldst thou be, Don Quixote? A Renown'd Knight-Errant, a Tamer of Giants, a Righter of Wrongs, a Defender of Virgins, a Protector of Justice; In fine, a Scourge to the Infamous World, and a noble Retriever of the Golden Age; but hold Illustrious Don, you are not Knighted yet, and consequently in­capable of these Performances. What then? as I have read in Books of Chivalry, I may still undertake an easie Adventure, under the Title of the Maiden-Knight, till I receive that honour; and then proceed the glory of that function, the terrour of all Miscreants, and the delight and won­der of ensuing Ages.

Re-enter Sancho.
S [...]n.

So, thanks be to Lady Flora, the Beasts are well provided for, Dapple is happy, he is exercising his Grinders yonder, whilst I carry mine here only for shew; for the Devil of any other use will my Master let me have for 'em; See — now is he making his Dinner upon Co­gitations, and I am to have the Scraps of 'em for mine▪ Honour and Air is always our fa [...]e. Oh Sancho, Sancho! What hast thou brought thy self to?

Don Qu.

Oh Dulcinea d [...]l Toboso▪ Thou light of all Eyes, Empress of my Soul, and Sovereign Princess of my Heart and Vitals.

San.

Ay, 'tis so, Thought of his suppos'd Mist [...]ess, a Murrain take her, is the first Course, and no doubt a Conceipt of the next beating for her will be the second; Oo [...]s this is choice Dyet, I grow damnably [...]at upon't; Oh D [...]nce! You must leave Wife and Children to go a Squiring, must ye? Well! can you eat Grass, good Squire? Can your Worship Dine upon Clovet, you may find Salleds in abundance, but like the Spa­nish [Page 3] Boors, your Countrymen, the Devil of any meat to 'em, most Noble Squire.

Don Qu.

Now Animal of little Faith, and less Ingenuity, what are you grumbling at?

San.

Why troth, Sir, if your Worship will needs know, my Belly and I have had a sharp Combat, it was grumbling at me for a good Dinner, and I was cramming it as well as I could with the good hopes of the Island your Worship has promis'd me, when you come to be Emperour of—what d'ee call it.

Don Qu.

Empires, Sancho, have their Titles as various as the ways to Atchieve 'em; but let it suffice thee, that when I am Dub'd Knight, as with the first opportunity I mean to be, Adventures of that Nature will flow in upon us; so that in the [...]pace that one may trim a Beard, an Em­pire may Drop into my Mouth, and an Island, or at least an Earldom in­to thine.

San.

Pray Heaven my Government afford me Beef enough, to make amends for all these Days of Fasting: But I have found to my sorrow in your Service hitherto▪ that fair Words b [...]tt [...]r no Parsnips; he is blind enough that sees not through the Holes of a S [...]ive; Desert and Reward seldom keep Company, and none are Fools always, tho' every one some­times; better on bare Foot then no Foot at all; and thou art known by him that doth thee feed, not by him that doth thee breed; and he that—

Don Qu.

Wheiw! a plague on thee, where the Devil art thou running with thy flim flams? what time of Year hence dost think I shall an­swer thee, if thou runn'st on threading thy Proverbs at this rate.

San.

Well, well, Sir, that's all one▪ Let every one be the Son of his own Works, for under the name of a Man one may become Pope; for my part, I see Land every day more then other, you promis'd Islands and Earldoms; but how you shall get 'em or I govern 'em is the question; the Sancho's know better how to govern a Plough than a Province; and since I have been your Squire I have got no preferment yet, but Cudgels and more Cudgels, blows, and more blows [...] I have been but three days out a Squiring, and if drubbing could get me an Island I have deserv'd one as big as Great Britain already.

Don Qu.

Battles of Honour, Sancho, should not be disparaged by the base Epithete of drubbing; thou hast done Nobly, and as Noble shall be thy reward; therefore I once more tell thee, fear not thy Bones, and thou shalt be great, only because I know thou art an Admirer of Proverbs, always remember this— That Patience grows not in every ones Garden.

San.

Ay, and pray, Sir, do you remember this, That there is not always good Chear where there's a Smoaking Chimney, and there's Pro­verb for Proverb;— But yet a plague on't, this plaguy Government wont out of my head, and methinks he promis [...]s it with as much Confi­dence [Page 4] as if he were Emperour already, and carried the Keys of it at his Girdle. —Let me see,—to be Don Sancho,—good; to sit upon my Velvet Cushions of State, and look big upon my Vassals,— good again; then to have my Wife be a Countess, and come to me in a Morning with—Good morrow my Lord the Governour, hah, ha, ha, very good, faith— Admirable! I am transported at the thoughts on't; therefore Bones ach, Guts grumble, I am resolv'd to be great in de [...]iance of ye both.

Don Qu.

Hah! What do I see! — Thanks to those propitious Stars that Usher my Renown and Fortune, occasion offers it self in a most glorious Adventure.

San.

What's the matter now?

Don Qu.

Se [...]st thou that Giant, Sancho.

points at the Scene.
San.

Giant, Sir.

Don Qu.

That monstrous Giant, with Arms almost two Leagues long! see how he swings 'em about, and fans himself to Cool his head.

San.

I see no Giant, not I, I see a Windmill.

Don Qu.

'Tis the dreadful Giant Caraculi [...]mbr [...], Tyrant of the Island Mallindrania, who devours every day to appease his hunger, [...]2 new born Children bak'd, whose Bones he grinds between his Teeth to powder.

San.

Ha, ha, ha, ha,— 'Tis the Giant Windmilliambro you mean, Tyrant of the Island of Wheat, Barley, and Oats, twelve Bus [...]els of which he every day devours, and grinds the Grains between the Stones to powder.

Don Qu.

See there, an Innocent Wretch dress'd all in White, whom the horrid Canibal is Just now drawing into his Mouth.

San.

Oons! What Innocent? what Wretch? what Mouth? Why don't you see 'tis the Miller in his White Coat, going to carry a Sack in­to the Mill Door?

Don Qu.

I tell thee 'tis one of the brood of A [...]aeon, whom I am ob­lig'd to cut off▪ from the face of the Earth; therefore Saddle Rosina [...]te instantly, and i [...] thou art afraid go aside thy self, and pray whilst I enter into Cruel and unequal Battle.

San.

Battle, Gadsbud, Sir, are ye blind, will ye Battle a Windmill, have ye a mind your Brains should be dash'd out with the Sails.

Don Qu.

Jolthead, to thee, they may seem Sails, but to me they are like the hundred Arms of its Brother Giant Briareus, whom I will Instan [...]ly Lop off and destroy, with whose spoils we will begin to be Rich.— Away, I say, that I may perform an Exploit for aftertimes to wonder a [...]—Stand thou proud Miscreant, and fly me not; I will attack thee a [...]one, Oh Beautiful and Ador'd Dulcinea, In [...]luence now thy Knight, I b [...]seech thee, I come Canibal, I come,— Stay, stay, thou Monster,

Exit Don Quixote.
Sancho.
[Page 5]

Stay, Stay, Ay you need not fear but the Windmill will stay [...]or ye, d'sheart he [...]l be knock'd o' th' Head now; and there's my Island gone before I come to't— Why Sir, Sir, come back for Shame: Ah Plague of his mad Pate, What a Devil shall I do with him.

Exit Sancho after him.

SCENE II. An Inn.

Enter Perez and Nicholas.
Nicho.

Gone from her Fathers House?

Perez.

Most certainly, and as 'tis thought in search of Don Fernando, who forgetting all his fo [...]mer Vows and Promises of Marriage to her, as common Fame reports, suddenly intends to Wed Luscinda.

Nicho.
Luscinda

— Why 'tis in every ones Mouth that she has long since been Car [...]enio's Mistress.

Perez.

Ay, and more than that— has been Betroth'd to him; but that's all one▪ the old Man her Fathers Love of Money, Luscinda's Frailty— and Don Fernando's Treachery, has it seems brought my poor Neece Doro­thea to this Distress; and poor Cardenio to a worse; who, as 'tis said, stark Mad runs wild amongst yonder Mountains of Sierra Morena.

Nicho.

But leaving this discourse, now lets mind our new Affair that we agreed on last Night about Don' Quixote, when we heard the two Mad Fools, Master and Man, were gone a Knight Erranting.

Perez.

I have been Cudgelling my Brains ever since, with studying how to retrieve 'em; for I confess it troubles me, that a Man of clear Sense, good Learning, and sound Judgment, on all other Subjects and Af­fairs, should be so strangely bewitch'd upon the most ridiculous of all, Knight Errantry.

Nicho.

'Tis indeed a strange Infatuation.

Perez.

But I think I have employ'd my time very well to day in your absence, for whilst you have been enquiring which way the Whimsical Knight is gone, I, and the old Woman his House Keeper, have been burning his Books.

Nicho.

That was our last Resolve, I remember, and will no doubt con­tribute to his Cure; for 'tis most certain, that those Romantick Books of Knighthood and Poetry have been the main Cause of all his Frantick Hu­mours — but see here comes mine Host.

Enter Vincent Laughing.
Vinc.

Hah, hah, ha, ha, ha.

Nocho.
[Page]

How now mine Host; What price bears Oats and Barley, hah; What new Ambassador, or noble Guest, with his large Pockets cramm'd wi [...]h Spanish Duckets, has made you so merry this morning.

Vinc.

Ha, ha, ha ha, —Oh my Heart, Oh my Lungs, —ha, ha, ha, ha, Don Quixote, Don Quixote, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Perez.

Why what of him—

Vinc.

The Mad Fool has been charging a Windmill yonder, and swears 'twas a Giant; The Sails whisk'd him about like a Rat in a Mill Wheel, indangering his Neck every Minute, till at last, Fortune unwilling to spill the small quantity of Brains remaining, threw him some twenty yards off into a Fish▪Pond, ha, ha, ha, ha, Oh I shall burst, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Nicho.

And where is he prithee.

Vinc.

Here just by, with his Booby Sancho; but the best Jest is, he per­swades himself that 'tis all done by Inchantment of some Magician that owes him a spite, and that this Misfortune has happened only because he was not Knighted; and therefore has intreated me to do that Honour for him; Calls me, Sir Constable, and my Lord; and my Inn, a Castle; and I am now going to get my Wife, my Daughter, and two or three other merry Fellows to assist me in the Ceremony, for I'm resolv'd to carry on the Jest; and if you'll stay with me till to morrow morning you shall share in't.

Perez.

With all my Heart, the diversion must needs be surprizing

Exit Vincent.

Come, prithee lets go and find him out.

Nicho.

Oh yonder comes Sancho, first lets hear what he says.

Enter Sancho.
Sancho.

Thanks be to good luck— he has sav'd his Neck, however, Gramercy Fish-Pond, our Adventures had all been at an end else Faith; and so had my Government too, with all the noble hopes of Sancho's Preferment: Yonder he is, as wet as a Water Spaniel that has just been Diving; and as Angry, as if the Windmill had call'd him Coward; or Son of a Whore; and to provoke him more, had rail'd against Knight-Errantry.

Nicho.

Oh— Neighbour well met, —well, how goes matters, how fares our noble F [...]iend, your Master; mine Host tells us he has been Fighting a Devilish Giant yonder; prithee how wa'st, for I am sure you must know.

Sancho.

Though I know no such matter, I'm re [...]olved to banter the Barber however,

aside

; Why, 'tis even too true Friend, 'twas a dam­nable Giant, his Name was Garlick de Gambo; And would you believe it Neighbour; Each Eye of him was a big as one of your Basons; each Tooth as long as one of your Poles, and as sharp as a Razor; His Chin had Beard enough to serve a whole Parish with Brushes; and his [Page 7] Mouth was as wide as your Shop Door Neighbour: This is truth upon my Squirehood▪ I saw him.

Nicho.

Bless us, why this was prodigious; come lets go and congratu­late him immediately.

Perez.

The Lye is prodigious indeed,

aside

, ay come, with all my Heart.

Sancho.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha▪

Exeunt Perez and Nicholas.
Enter Hostess.
Hostess.

Good luck betide us, have I found ye so merry at last; there has been such a Noise within yonder, the House has been [...]oo Hot to hold us: There's two Women, or Furies, (for I know not what to make of 'em) inquiring for ye: One of 'em has a Tongue louder than a Sow-gelders Horn; She says, she has come three Leagues after ye this morn­ing, and will have ye if ye are above Ground. She has a long lean wither'd Wallnut coloured Face; She's as dirty as a Gipsey, and as ill Dress'd as a Rag-Woman.

Sancho.

Oh Plague, that must be my Wife by the Description; and what kind of Creature is with her prithee?

Hostess.

A young Todpole Dowdy, as freckled as a Ravens Egg, with ma [...]ted Hair, [...]notty Nose, and a pair of Hands as black as the Skin of a Tortois, with Nails as long as a Kites Tallons upon every Finger.

Sancho.

Ah, that's my Daughter too, I know by her cleanliness▪ I stole away from 'em with design to surprize my Wife with a Countess-ship before she was aware; but since they have found me out by the Scent, let 'em come in with a Pox to 'em.

Exit Hostess.
Enter Teresa and Mary; weeping.
Teres.

Oh, thou Dromedary, thou Founder'd Mule without a Pack-Saddle; o [...] what other soul Beast shall I call thee, for Man thou art not, nor hast not been to me, Heaven knows the time when; ar [...] not [...]hou ashamed to see me, t [...]ou Nicompoop.

Sancho.

Why how now Crooked Rib, how now Cro [...]kadile▪ can your Tongue wag this Morning, is the Matrimo [...]ial Horn Pipe Tuning al­ready.

Mary.

Oh Lord Vather, why would you run away so Vather; and how do you think I shall get my new pair of Green S [...]ockings home, and have my Sabbath days Shooes mended, if you leave me and my Mother in this Fashion, oh, ho, oh.

Howls out.
Sancho.

If any one wants a pair of Marriage [...]g Pipes, I can sell him now a rare Bargain: A Man that had her for a Wife, and an Acre of Thistles, need not care which [...]e burnt first▪ oons what a coil is here.

Teres.
[Page 8]

How have I deserv'd this, thou Man of the Devil; Have not I been a most true, and loving to thee, mended thee weekly from Top to Toe, and taken as much care of Dapple thy Ass as if he had been Born of my own Body; Have I not clip'd the Bristles of thy Beard with Wise­like Patience, that no filthy Vermin might breed there; and washed thee with my own Hands when thou hast been as full of Mire as a Hog in a Highway: Nay, and what's more, the last Night we were in Bed toge­ther, would I may never Drink more, if I did not move to thee in the wa [...] ▪ kindness whilst thou lay'st Snoring like a Drunken Carri [...]r, and at last gav' [...]t me a huge thump, enough to spoil a Womans Childing for ever after.

Sancho.

Why, thou she Cormorant, thou Man Devourer, have I been beating the Conjugal Drum this twenty years, and dost thou blame me now for Snoring: Oh Conscience, Conscience, Where art thou?

Mary.

Yow dont do well Vather, so you dont, to call my Mother such Names, she's no Drum; lookee slidikins, if any one else had call'd her a Drum, Ide ha set my Nails in the Jaws of un.

Sancho.

Here's a mettled Whore too, sbud, a word or two more would make that young Cat set her Claws in my Face indeed.

Teres.

Ay, you see the Child will take her Mothers part, however, go to him Mary, speak to him Child, dont be afraid of hi [...] whittle Truth, has a good Face, though the Quoif be torn, speak to him I say M [...]ry.

Sancho.

Nay, Mary's an admirable Speaker, I'll say that for her; Well, Offspring, mine Mary, the Buxome, What say you humph?

Mary.

Why, I say, you shall go home with us now we have found ye Vather; I cant get the Cow home to Night without ye; And there's a Bag of Barley must be carried to the Mill too: Gadsniggers I'll hold fast by this Arm.

Takes hold of his Arm.
Teres.

And I'll stick close to t'other.

Takes the other.
Sancho.

So, Now [...]s here the true sign of the Marriage Mousetrap; and I, a Pox on me, am the unlucky Vermin that's caught in't: I'm a no­table Figure now I believe if my Picture were drawn: Sbud you Man Leaches let go my Hand; Or by my Hollidame.

Mary.

O Lord, you maynt Swear Vather, the Devil will have you if you Swear.

Sancho.

And his Dam, there, will have thee, if thou follow'st her advice ye young Oaf. Here am I, that by seeking noble Adventures, am going to be an Ea [...]l; and in the twinkling of a Star to be able to make ye both Countesses; and yet this Devil of a Woman will be always crossing me, and daming her self [...]o Clouted Shooes, and a Canvas Smock all days of her Life.

Mary.

A Countess! O Lord, Is that true Mother?

Teres.
[Page 9]

I shaw, waw, nee [...] mind tho [...]e great so [...] Titles Fool, they are a great deal too big for our Mouths, Mary; My Name has been al­way Teresa, and Goodwi [...]e Panca; and thou, time out of mind, hast been call'd M [...]ll or Mary, and [...]t the latter end of my days to be called Coun [...]e [...]s, and I know not what, I shall Die, I shall ne'er be able to be [...]r it.

Weeps.
Sancho.

VVhy, there 'tis now; A Plague on't, who would put Honey into an Asses Mouth: I am making my self a Gove [...]nor, and setting her upon Velvet Cushions of State; and this Plaguy Woman of Barrabas, in spi [...]e of me will sit ba [...]e B [...]ttock'd upon a Dunghil.

Mary.

And do yow say, that I should be a Governors Daughter, and sit upon a Cushion too, Vather.

Sancho.

Wowns, thou shalt be a Countess I tell thee in a Months time, if that Adder [...]ere would leave her Hiss [...]ng, and let me be quiet: I would Ma [...]ry thee in [...]n instant to the great Lord Don W [...]irligigaric ▪ Son and H [...]ir to the tother great Lord Don Wha [...]hum: Thou [...]houldst walk in th [...] Streets wi [...]h [...]hy Train held up, and two Embroidered Laqueys holding an Umbre [...] over thee, to keep thy amiable Phiz from Tanning.

Mary.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, — on Gemini▪ and that will fit my Hu­mour to a Button, Vather: Well, the first thing I would do, should be to learn to be Proud, and look Scornfully, I warrant I'd carry my self like a Countess quickly.

T [...]res.

Alas, poor Mawkin, she's bewitch'd already; I find this Earl­dom will be the undoing of the poor Jade do what I can: Why hear me, thou Father of Folly, thou willful Corrupter of thy own Flesh and Blood; Does that Child look as if she could walk in State with her Train held up, d [...]heart 'twill give me Gripes to hear how the Folks will Laugh at her; Look how Stately the Hoggrubber goes, says one; she that was yesterday at her Spinning Wheel, and went to Church with the Skirt of her Coat over her Head, to keep her from the Rain, has now a Tail three yards long, says another; and an Umbrel to de­fend her Olive coloured Countenance, with a Pox to her, says a third; This will be the cry all the Village over; therefore come away Mary, and dont [...]e a Countess Child.

Sancho.

Call thy Mother Fool, Mary the Buxom, and be a Coun­tess in [...]pite of he [...]: Remember thou art to be Married, and Breed a Race for the Honour of the Panca's, think upon the young Lord Whirli­gigario, Child.

Teres▪

Think upon thy self, Mary, remember thou hast sometimes worn Shooes, and sometimes none Child.

Sancho.

Crooked Loggs make good Fires, think upon Don Whirligigario, M [...]ll.

M [...]ry.

Ay, ay, Vather, I'm for Don Whi [...]l [...]gigario, and there's no more to be [...]aid, but let my Mother sit [...]are B [...]ttock'd upon a Dunghill, if she will, I'll be a Countess, [...].

Sancho.
[Page]

That's my good Girl, look'ee Teresa, the Court has given their Judgment, your Caus [...] is lost in Course.

Teres.

Well Satan, I know thou dost it to break my Heart thou Cruel Man; for the very hour that I shall see that Girl a Countess, will be the hour of my Death; I'm sure, the Jade will never be able to know her self, she'll be every Minute hoydning and discovering her Course Thread: Well, she's thy own, do what thou wilt with her; but for my part I'll neer consent to't, and so farewell: A Countess, O Lord, I've no Pati­ence to think ont.

Exit Teresa.
Mary.

Good Lord, now is my Mother as Rusty as an old Cow that has got the Belly Ach, but I care not; She dares not beat me, because she knows I'll beat her again. Well, de hear Vather, be sure you make me a Countess as soon as ever you can.

Sancho.

I warrant thee Girl; and let thy Mother go and Fume at home with the Smoke in the Chimney corner: He that looses his Wife and Six Pence looses a Tester: Thou art my Darling, and shalt ere long be a Lady; for she that has luck has better than a good Estate in Reversion; and the full Bags of Fools Command Wise-Men for Followers. I by fol­lowing Adventures intend to be a Governor; and when I am so, I intend to make thee Rich; And when thou art Rich, no Body will say thou art Freckled, nor think thee a Dowry.

For Gold makes Country Joan look fair and Bonny,
Though old and chop'd, and Skinn'd like Orange Tawny.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Continues.

Enter Perez with a Letter, and Nicholas.
Nicholas.

AND are you sure, Mr. Curate, that your Letter is Au­thentick, and that it says positively your Neece Dorothea lives disguis'd amongst the Shepherds of Cordova?

Perez.

'Tis most certain, for the Discover of her is my particular Friend; one o [...] [...]e best of that Quality too in all the Country, and h [...]s been often with [...] at her Father's House.

Nicho.

'Tis very odd, that when this Devil Love gets once into a young Female Noddle, what Tricks and Gambols will it make her play: [...] had rather be oblig'd to tame a Hare in the beginning of March, and mak [...] it come to my Hand, than any Woman in her Pride of Eigh­teen, if once she be touch'd with this loving Fury.

Perez.

He writes me word here, he discover'd her one Evening by her Singing, for she can Sing [...]oo like an Arch-Angel. The pretty Rogue was washing her Feet in a little Brook that runs just by his Cottage, the Whiteness of which made him at first suspect her Sex, till viewing her Face nearer, he knew her perfectly, yet discover'd not himself, but follow'd her, and by that means found her Abode among the Shep­herds.

Nicho.

And how d'ye intend to get her thence?

P [...]rez.

Occasion offers f [...]ly, to Morrow will be the Funeral of Chri­sostom, a young, witty and learned Engli [...]h Gentleman, that for the Love of a [...]oy beautiful Virgin of these Precincts, call'd Marcella, put on a Shepherd's Habit to Court her, but she disdaining him, dispair'd and dy'd. At this Ceremony will atte [...]d all the Shepherds hereabouts, and there will be a Di [...]ge [...]ung, with other Rural Games, made by a dear Friend and Country-man of his, call'd Ambrosio, in Ho­nour of the dead Man's Memory. Now amongst this Troop 'tis proba­ble she comes, and I may then surprise her.

Nicho.

'Tis likely enough I co [...]fess, and to assist a little, good Mr. Cu­rate, I'll be there too, and if the Clergy miss her, perhaps the Laity may come in for a Snack; but come, let's mind our present Diversion, here comes mine Host, the Antick Ceremony of the Knighthood will be performed immediately.

[Page 12] Enter Vincent, Hostess, and Maritorness.

Ah! the Devil take all mad Fools: Was ever Man so plagu'd? Come, Wife, Daughter, and Gentlemen, pray mind all your Instructions, that I may humor this Frantick Ass wi [...]h a Sham Knighthood, and so get him out of my House, for I shall be undone if he stays a day longer in't—He rose up in a Dream just now, and fancying he was fighting with Giants, falls a Slashing two Baggs of Red Wine, that stood up in a Corner, and has spilt upon twenty Gallons on't about the Floar. D'sheart! he has made me almost as mad as himself; therefore Wise, be sure you make haste, and remember your Part of the Ceremony.

Hostess.

Ceremony! Hang him; Gad I'll Charge him with a Co [...]sta­ble, if he does not pay me for my Wine.

Perez.

Ha, ha, Oh Neighbour! you must consider he's a mad Man.

Nicho.

And such are not only excus'd from Civility, but Law too.

Marit.

He calls me Princess, Radiant, and Incomp [...]rable; and told me my Eyes glitter'd brighter than Venus or Mercury, with a World more of such Gibberish, tha [...] for my part, I thought the Devil was in the Man.

Vincent.

Ay Gad, I get clear of him presently—O [...], yonder I see him! He's coming with his Armor to this Well, which he takes to be a consecrated Fountain, and therefore a Place [...]tto be Knighted in. Come, come all in, let's leave him to himself a little, whilst I go and get all my merry Grigs ready for the Song and Dance; we'll Fool him methodical­ly however.

Exeunt.
Enter Don Quixote Strip'd, and Sancho following, c [...]rrying his Armor, and Laughing at him.
Don. Q.

Set down the Shell of my Renown, my Armor [...] that won­drous Ca [...]e, that must defend this Body from vile Inchanters, Monsters, Giants, Furies; there, set 'em down by that most Holy Fountain, whilst, like a Tortoise, strip [...]d of her Defence, I craule about, and groveling, kiss the Earth, till Fate or [...]ains the Honour to retrieve 'em. Go Sancho, go thou aside, my faithful Squire, and Pray, Squires have no other Office in this Ceremony.

Sancho lays down the Ar [...]r.
Sancho.

Why the truth on't is, Sir, you have nick'd me there to a Hair, for my whole Office has been to Pray and Fast ever since I came into your Service: I have told my Wife Teresa Wonders of ye, that I am to be an Earl and a Governor, and the Devil and all, but the Horse next the Mill carries the Grist, Mischiefs come by the Pound, and go a­way by the Ounce; God send me a good Deliverance, I say, I am a Fool, [...] find it.

Don Q.
[Page 13]

No, if thou woul'st have thy self unravel'd, thou art a Mixture of Knave and Fool; the Weights are often equal, but now I think, the Fool weighs down the Ball [...]nce; thou art now a silly despond­ing Varlet.

San [...]ho.

Well, well, where nothing is, a little goes a great way, and an old Dog will learn no Tricks▪ What a Devil d'ye call this Well a Fountain for? And who the Devil consecrated it, unless it be two or three dozen of b [...]ld pate Frogs I heard croaking in't.

D [...]n Q.

Hark, I hear 'em coming;

A Marshal Noise of Drums and Trumpets are heard within.

Away, I say, and do as I command thee; and if thou hast a Prayer bet­ter than ordinary, that treats of Knighthood, and of brave Exploits, perform it with a Stomach, do it, as thou usest to Eat, voraciously.

Sancho.

Why there's another very pretty Task to, a thing that would baffle the whole Clergy, as I'm a true Squire, to Pray as heartily as one can Ea [...]; ds'bud, there's ne're a Priest in Christendom can do't.

Don Q.

I have a shrew'd Suspicion that this Belly of thine, Sancho, will hinder thy Preferment; when ever the Squire of a Knight Errant gives himself to Eating, Honours fall off insensibly.

Sancho.

Why then the Devil take all Honour [...]; a hungry Horse makes an ill Journey, and half a Loaf is better than no [...]r [...]ad; rather than starve for a Governorship, I'll be plain with you Sir—

Don Q.

Away, thou Prater; I'll hear no more, away I say.

Exit Sancho, Gru [...]bling.
Enter Drums and Trumpets Sounding. Then Enter Vincent, Crowned with Lawrel, and a Scutcheon in hi [...] Hand. Then Perez, Nicholas, Hostess, Meritorness, with Scu [...]cheons. Then Singers and Dancers, representing Knights of several Orders, two and t [...]o, carrying Br [...]s of Lawrel. They march solemnly round Don Quixote, who kneels whilst Vincent puts a Circle abo [...]t his Head, and the [...] Sp [...]ks.
Vincent.
Thou God that lov'st loud Drums that rattle.
Raw Heads and bloody Bones, and Battle;
That try'st with Blows our Sense of Feeling.
Look down upon this Mortal Kneeling:
Grant him Honours, with Redundance,
Thumps and Blows, and Kicks abounda [...]ce;
And when his Bones all broken be,
Be this the Type of Victory.
Sti [...]ks [...]he Sc [...]cheon in his Circl [...]: Don Q Bows.
Perez.
Proud Giants let him better quell,
Than when he from the Wi [...]d-Mill fell.
No more may Fish-Ponds drench his Carcass,
Nor waggish Ho [...]s make him a stark Ass.
Sti [...]ks his Scu [...]heon.
Nicho.
[Page 14]
Let no Soul-Broker have a Hand in
The Shaving of his Understanding.
Fame let him get at Tilt and Barriers,
And never more be swing'd by Carriers.
Sticks his Scutch [...]on. Don Q. Bows.
Hostess.
Claret, no more for Blood be spilling,
Nor no more costly Wine-Baggs killing;
Least some hard-fisted Ostler flys on't,
Or angry Hostess scratch his Eyes out.
Sticks her Scutc [...]eon. Don Q. Bows.
Maritor.
May Dulcinea del Toboso,
That likes his Tawny Phiz but so, so,
By being in her Rigor lasting,
Get him more Honour, and more Basting.
Sticks her Lawrel, and now altogether, round his Head, bear these Words; The Knight of the Ill-favor'd Face.
Vincent.

So, now remove him, whilst these Sons of Fame, these Knights that represent the Times past Glory, perform the rest of this high Cere­mony.

Here Hostess and Maritorness raise up Don Quixote, and lead him to the farther Part of the Stage, and Arm him. Then a Dance is performed, representing Knights Errant Killing a Dragon: Which ended, they bring Don Quixote to the Front of the Stage.
Vincent.

Now Sing the Song in Praise of Arms and Souldiery.

SONG.
SIng all ye Muses, your Lutes strike around;
When a Souldier's the Story, what Tongue can want Sound?
Who Danger disdains, Wounds, Bruises and Pains,
When the Honour of Fighting is all that he gains.
Rich profit comes easie in Cities of Store,
But the Gold is earn'd hard where the Cannons do roar.
Yet see how they run at the Storming a Town,
Through Blood and thr [...]ugh Fire, to take the Half-Moon.
They Scale the high Wall,
Whence they see others fall.
Their Hearts precious Darling, bright Glory pursuing,
Th [...]' Death's under foot, and the Mine is just blowing.
I [...] springs, up they fly, yet more still supply,
As Bride grooms to Marry, they [...]asten to dye.
Till Fate claps her Wings, and the glad Tidings brings,
Of the Breach being enter'd, and then they'r all Kings.
[Page 15]Then happy's she whose Face
Can win a Soldier's Grace,
They range about in State,
Like Gods disposing Fate;
No Luxury in Peace,
Nor Pleasure in Excess,
Can parallel the Ioys the Martial Hero Crown,
When flush'd with Rage, and forc'd by Want, he storms a wealthy Town.
Vincent.
Ladies, the last great Honour now afford,
And arm the Cha [...]pion with the Spurs and Sword.
Hostess.
Let this bright Spur, with prickly Rowels,
That wounds thy Courser near the Bowels,
Puting on the Spur [...]
Mind thee in thy Adventures thick,
How thou for Womens Rights should kick.
So Fortune, thou bold Knightly Tony,
Send thee more Wi [...], and me more Money.
Maritor.
About thy Loyns I gird this doughty Blade,
To fight thy Battels, and make Foes afraid▪
Cudgel, and Cudgell'd be, be no Man's Debtor,
The more that stupid Pate is maul'd the better.
Thy Fate defends thee from the Pains of Killing,
Who has no Brains, is past all S [...]nse of Feeling.
Vincent.
Then lastly, with this Knightly Thwack,
Draws the Sword and strikes him.
And these about thy Sides and Back.
I Dub thee for an Arms Professor,
Champion for War, and Wrongs Redres [...]or.
Once, twice, and thrice, now rise with Grace,
The Knight of the Ill-favour'd Face▪
Don Q [...]ixot [...]ises.
Don Q.

Sir Constable, the Honour you have done me, devotes me to your Service during Life; shew me a Monster, Giant, or Inchanter, tho' ne're so huge or terrible, that has wrong'd ye, and you shall see me make him do you Justice, and lay his Recreant Head beneath your Fee [...]. And you great Princesses, and Illustrious Beauties, that this great Hour have done Don Quix [...]te Honour, low at your Feet your Knight offers his Homage. My grateful Thanks likewise to you my Friends, by whom this Sword and Arm shall always be commanded.

To Perez and Nicho.
Per [...]z.

All Honour to the Son of Fame, and brightest Planet of Knig [...]t Errantry, Don Quixote de la Ma [...]cha.

Nich [...].

May his Heroick Deeds make Amad [...]s du G [...]ul a Tri [...]ler.

Vincent.

Don Bellianis of Greece, and Felixmarte of Thriani [...] be Mush­rooms to the Pine of this tall Glory.

Don Q.

Good my Lord, your Excellence too much honours me; and so does your fair Lady—of whom I must presume to beg one Courtesie— [Page 16] additional—which is—a Plaister—for wi [...]h your Lordships too much Zeal in Dubbing me, I humbly do conceive—my Head is broke.

Vincen [...].

Most happy Omen!

Perez

Yes, if it bled three Drops.

Don Q

It has, three hundred, I feel 'em in my Collar.

Hostess.

Run Maritornes, fetch the Vng [...]entum Album.

Don Q.

Most Radiant Princess! I shall trouble ye.

M [...]rit.

Why truly Sir, since you have made me a great Lady, I can't help being as proud as one; and to send a Princess for a Plaister, is, in my Opinion, a little undecent.

Nicho.

Oh Madam! your Highness shall not need, I have one ready here in my Pocket.

P [...]ll [...] out his Bo [...].
Enter Sancho Hastily.
Sancho.

Odsbodokins! if ever you'll see a fine Sight as long as you live, come away quickly to the Inn Door.

Perez.

How now Sancho? Where's your Obeysance to this Noble Knight?

Sancho.

Mum, Mum, I understand ye — Most Noble Emperor, that is to be, I kiss your Majesty's Foot.

Don Q.

'Tis well, my Squire— but prithee what Sight is this thou h [...]st seen at the Castle Gate?

Sancho.

Why at the Castle Gate then, since you will have it so, there [...] a dead Man walk'd by in more State, and with greater Noise after him, than a London Alderman, whose Soul is gone to Hell for Usury, then he has, I say, when his Son and Heir hires a whole Troop of Blue Coat-Boys to sing Psalms, and try if they can bawl i [...] out again.

Vincent.

Oh! 'tis the Funeral of Chrysostom, that dy'd for Love. My Lord Don Quixote, 'tis fit you should be there, perhaps some Adventure may shew it self.

Don Q.

Your Excellence Councels well, there may indeed, for now methinks I'm weary of soft Ease, and long for some Exploits to rowse my Valor

* The [...] put on his Helmet.

now Giants Monsters tremble, for I come,

To purge the World of Vice by powerful Arms,
In spight of Hell, and Necromantick Charms.

Exit Don Q. and Sancho.
Host [...]ss.

The Devil go with him; Must we lose our Money for our Wine after all then, for a Jest? ds'life I'll run after him, and fetch him back.

Perez.

No, no, prithee good Hostess let him alone now, I'll see thee paid upon the Word of a Priest; I'll be his Pledge for once, for out of Kindness to his Family, I intend very suddenly, by a Trick, to core his Frenzy, and bring him Home again.

Hostesse.
[Page 17]

The Word of a Priest, Thank'ee good Sir, I desire no better Security for all the Wine in my Cellar.

Nicho.

If there be any sport in't, you are sure of me Mr. Curate.

Perez.

Oh, thou art to be my Chief Engine — but more of that ano­ther time; now let's to the Funeral, and if I can but find my Niece there.

Nicho.

We'll Fuddle mine Host to night in his own Castle, as Don Quixote calls it.

Vincent.

Ah, wou'd I cou'd see that, my jolly Lads, I'de try your For­ces i faith.

Maritor.

And did not I do my Speeches purely, Mr. Curate?

Perez.

Ay, little Maritornes, that thou didst, I assure thee.

Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Deep Grove.

Enter Dorothea alone, Dress'd like a Shepherd in Mourning, and Crown'd with a Cypress Garland.
Doroth.
They come with Sighs, and as halfe dead with Sorrow,
Attend the Body of the wretched Chrysostome,
Whilst I, that seem to mourn anothers Fate,
Dissolve in real Tears, to know my own:
Poor Dorothea, Where are now the Comforts
That us'd to make thy Days Divinely happy?
Where now are Blessings from Indulgent Parents,
That us'd to smile upon thy Morning Duty,
Kiss thy refreshing Cheeks, lean on thy Bosom,
And in soft Rapture, invoke Heav'n to guard thee?
All gone, quite lost, thou'rt now a Friendless Vagabond▪
Undone by Love, and by a Man betraid,
For who could else undo an innocent Maid?
Forc'd in these Groves among the stranger Swains,
To waste a woful Life,—Oh false Fernando!
But hush — no more, they come.—
Goes to meet 'em.
Then Re-enter Dorothea with Ambrosio, and other Shepherds and Shep­herdesses Crown'd with Cypress; then the Body of Chrysostom [...] follows on a Bier, Crown'd with a Wreath, and cover'd with Flowers; they march in Solemn Procession round the Stage, then the Bier being set down in the midst of it, Ambrosio speaks.
Ambros.
[Page]
Thus to the Grave the last retreat of Mortals,
Has sad Ambrosio brought his dearest Friend,

Oh that he could revenge his hapless Death upon the cruel Tygress that has caus'd it, with what a pleasure would I fly to execute; or could my Breath blow Plagues among the Sex, and only amongst them, no Male­thing suffering, what Rapture should I feel; but alas, I wish in vain, no Pestilence can hurt 'em: One poisonous Viper cannot hurt another: A Woman is the Plague, the hottest Plague, and where they harbor, breed Contagion round 'em.

Dorth.

To me I'm sure a Man has been a greater, and bred more de­solation. Aside.

Enter Don Quixote and Sancho.

But good Ambrosio, was this fair Murdress throughly satisfy'd of your dead Friends Affection?

Ambr.

Too too well, there past no Minute on of stealing time, that he past unimploy'd to do her service; he was a Man, the brightest of her Sex, if they could e'er consider, would be proud of, an admirabl [...] Scho­lar, rare Musician, Learn'd without Pride, and Valiant without Passion; The Elements were all so temper'd in him, that except Love, his Breast was still and calm; no Gust within to ruffle his rare Judgment, so know­ing too, and yet withal so modest, that thô his Reason could instruct great Teachers, he never thought himself the Wiser Man.

1 Shep.

He was indeed the wonder of his time.

Ambros

Oh ye immortal Powers! How comes it then that all this Worth is thrown away on Woman? Woman, that as the Poet nobly tells us

Deceitful Woman, that will in time forestall, The Devil, and be the Dam [...]ing of us all.

Don Quixote comes up to Ambrosio.
2 Shep.

Bless us! What Romantick thing have we got here?

1 Shep.

I know not, he looks like the Ghost of some Murder'd King in a Tragedy; Prethee observe the tother too that comes slowching af­ter him, that must be some rare Fellow by his Look.

2 Shep.

By the Mass I admire him, I must go stare at 'em.

They stare at Sancho, and Sancho at them.
Don Q.

I am, Sir, by profession a Knight Errant, renown'd for Right­ing Wrongs; my Name's Don Quixote; otherwise call'd the Knight of the Ill-Favour'd Face.

1 Shep.

Faith 'tis Ill-favour'd indeed, there you are in the right, in troth Sir Knight.

Sancho.

And you must know I am the Renowned Sancho Panca, this Renowned Knight's Renowned Squire, and, all in good time, am to be a Renowned Governor.

Don Q.

I have with wonder heard some part of your Discourse, and therefore, as it is my Duty, make Request to know if you are wrong'd.

Doroth.

Some Mad-man, sure.

Ambros.

He looks no better, Sir Knight, who e'er you are, if you'll have patience till we have perform'd the Funeral Ceremonies, I shall have time to answer, but till then —

Don Q.

With all my heart, most Courteous Knight, and will assist my self.

Enter Don Quixote, Perez, and Nicholas, Sancho.
Perez.

He's got hither before us, I see.

Nicho.

And I warrant they ta [...]e him for some strange Monster, How they Stare and Grinn at Sancho?

Ambros.

Perform the Dirge, and let all other Rites be done in solemn Order: And oh thou dear best pattern of true Friendship, a [...]cept this poor last Tribute from a Friend, whose Love to thee was boundless as thy Merit.

Kisses Chrysostome.
Here a Song is Sung by a young Shepherdess, then they all Dance a Solemn Dance, expressing despairing Love; then Ambrosio and others, lay Chrysostome in the [...]rave; mean while a Dirge is Sung by a Shep­herd and Shepherdess.
SONG.
I.
YOung Chrysostome had Virtue, [...]ense,
Renown, and Manly Grace,
Yet all alas were no Defence,
Against Marcella's Face.
His Love that long had taken Root,
In Doubts cold Bed was laid,
W [...]ere She [...]ot warming it to Shoot,
The lovely Plant Decaid.
II.
Had coy Marcella own'd a Soul,
Halfe Beauteous as her Eyes;
Her Iudgment had her Soul controul'd,
And taught her how to Prize:
But Providence that Form'd the Fair,
In such a charming Skin,
Their outside made their only Care,
And never look'd within.
DIRGE.
SLeep poor Youth, Sleep in Peace,
Reliev'd from Love and mortal Care;
Whilst we that pine in Life's Disease,
Uncertain Bless'dlesse happy are.
Couch'd in the dark and silent Grave,
No ills of Fate thou now canst fear;
In vain wou'd Tyrant Pow'r enslave,
Or scornful Beauty be severe.
Wars, that do fatal Storm disperse,
Far from thy happy Mansion keep;
Earthquakes that shake the Universe:
Can't Rock thee into sounder sleep.
With all the Charms of Peace possest,
Secure from Life's Torment or Pain.
Sleep and indulge thy-self with Rest,
Nor Dream thou e'er shalt rise again.
CHORUS.
PAst is thy fear of future Doubt,
The Sun is from the Dial gone,
The Sands are sunk, the Glass is out,
The Folly of the F [...]rce is done.
Ambros [...]

Oh, I shall choak with a Revengeful Spleen, against that curst She that robb'd me of this Jewel, each single Ray of whose transparent Virtue, out-shin'd a Million of those Counterfeits, those dull false Pebbles, Women.

Doroth.
[Page 21]

My Unkle, as I live, how shall I shun him.

Exit
Perez.

I'm sure 'tis She, I know her by that Blush.

Nicho.

Follow her close, then the Game lies just before ye.

Exeunt.
Don Q.

Sir, to me, there is no brighter Jewel than a Woman, and he that dares affirm my Peerless Mistress sweet Dulcinea del Toboso, is a Pebble, is but a Turf himself, and holds his Soul at nothing.

1 Shep.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, this is rare stuff.

Ambros.

Some Officer sure grown frantick.

2 Shep.

The Squire-Governor too looks with the same Air, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Sancho.

What a Plague do these Frogs in green Liveries grin at? A Knight Errant to these Fools now, I warrant, is as strange a Sight, as a Rhinoceros, hoh hoh, ha, ha, Laugh on, Laugh on, Boobys, there's some difference sure between a Kite and a Pismire; What a Pox, Earldoms, are not got by keeping of Sheep —hoh, hoh, hoh, hah.

Enter Marcella.
Don Q.

Hah, here's some wonderful Adventure, What beauteous Visi­on's this.

Sancho.

Oons, if this should be some Empress or Queen now, and my Government at my Elbow before I'm aware.

Ambros.

By Heaven 'tis She, the very Charming Devil, that has done all this mischief.

Marcell.

Great cause thou hast to wonder, rash Ambrosio, that I who from my Infancy Devoted to Solitude, have shunn'd all Human Con­verse, should now un-ask'd, expose my Person here; but know I do it to defend my Hon [...]ur, against the poisonous slander of vile Tongues, who render me the Cause of their un-rest, and the late Death of thy-ill-fated Friend.

Ambros.

Oh! Tigress of more Cruel and Fell kind than ever yet in Africk Desarts bred, canst thou defend thy self?

Marcel.

Yes, and with Justice too, his Death was caus'd by his ob [...]i­nate Folly.

Ambros.

Of loving thee too well. Oh barbarous Women, the Sacred Powers above, lent [...]y Beauty to give Delight, not Kill, tho' it had Power, yet you all fill'd with the old Serpents Primitive Mischief, know­ing that Power, —

Convert it to our Ruin.

Marcell.

Oh, filly Men, that knowing then our Mischiefs, will ye [...] turn Amorous Coxcombs to provoke us.

Ambros.

Thou very Devil in an Angels shape, thou know'st it was t [...]e Fate of my dear Friend, he could not help his loving thee.

Marcel

Why then, thou very Fool in thy own shape, the less my Obli­gation; who is oblig'd to one for any Courtesie, that cannot help the doing it?

Ambros.
[Page 22]

Yet dost not pity him.

Marcel.

Pity's the Child of Love; and I ne'er yet Lo [...]'d any of your S [...]x, I might have some Compassion fo [...] his Death; but still the Occasion of it moves my Mirth.

Ambr [...]s.

The Occasion of it! why thou strange Cruelty! art thou not th'Occasion? Did he not die for thee?

Marcel.

For me! No, certainly; Was he not a M [...], one grounded too in Knowledge, a Philosopher, dress'd in the Pride of all those [...]lit­tering Arts that raise your Sex, you think so much above us? Poor Ig­norant Women, I warrant he despis'd us in his Heart; Toys, Puppets, fashion'd only for the Pleasure, Mirth, and Convenience of Lordly Man; and could he die for Love? Fie! 'tis Impossible! Who ever knew [...] Wit do such a thing?

Ambros.

Triumphant Mischief; Have you no Remorse?

Marcel.

I rather look on him as a good Actor; that Practising the Art of deep deceipt, as Whining, Swearing, Dying at your Feet,

Crack'd some Life Artery with an overstrain,
And dy'd of some Male Mischief in the Brain.
San.

Ah plague, I find now this is no Queen; this Woman is too much a Tattler to be of any great Quality.

Don Qu.

Peace Bottlehead.

Ambros.

Oh! that some Power would bless me with a Charm, to Plague thy Heart, as thou has Tortur'd his; that thou might'st feel the force of those hot flames, that burnt the Life out of the Noble Chrysostom.

Marcel.
'But since your words have no bewitching Arts,
'No Charm your Person, nor your Eyes no Darts.
'Happy Marcella, who no danger sees,
'Untouch'd by Love does neither burn nor freeze.
Ambros.
His Merit, tho' not mine, would Inspire Love
In any generous Woman.
Marcel.
That's as she priz'd it,
Men will be vain, and value their own parts;
But 'tis our [...]ancy that bestows our Hearts.
Merit is what we Love, sometimes a Fool
Outdoes the [...]hilosopher in a Womans School;
But if she's wilful, and has no remorse▪
Believe me, Fool, 'twill be in vain to force.
Ambros.
Heaven! Why did our Creation come by Women?
Can Mankind be no other way Increas'd.
Marcel.

No other way; so set your heart at rest.

Ambros.
We doubt 'em, even whilst in their Arms we lye
Prospect of Cares we find, but none of Joy.
Mar [...]el.
Pish — Now I laugh at ye, you know you lie
Smiling scorn­fully.
[Page 23] [...]eauty, you as your greatest bli [...]s pursue,
Feign what you can, nay, Fool we know it t [...]o
Fair is my Face, my Liberty my own,
I will accept no Love nor promise none:
Nor pity any would my Peace betray;
Tho' there should die ten thousand in a Day.
Ambros.
Once to Revenge this Lover that lies Dead
Grant ye, immortal Powers, that I may Wed,
I'll quel the Pride of your Rebellious Race,
Form Woman new and make her know her place.
Marcel.
Hear him sweet Heaven, and let his Consort be
Arm'd with another Soul like that in me.
A Soul that too fond Pa [...]ion ne'er Confin'd,
But knows the Cheats of all his Cosining kind;
Your Rage, weak Sir, will slenderly prevail;
My Rule's Effectual, and it cannot fail:
Our easie Natures oft with Pride you vex;
But know that I was born to plague your Sex.
Form'd to Attract, and featur'd to Excel,
Beauty's a Charm 'gainst which you want a Spell▪
When Heaven conveys such Influence to you,
Correct with awful Frowns and make me fue;
But whilst your Fate's submitted to my sway,
I know my Power, and Men shall Obey.
Exit.
Ambros.

D'ee hear the Insolent, Shepheards you, that were Friends to the brave Chrysostom? ds'Death, shall she brave us thus? for shame run some of ye, and bring her back; let's make her have some sense of her Barba [...]ity, at least.

They offer to follow her, and Don Quixote draws and opposeth.
Don Qu.

Let no one dare to follow her on his Life; I find she does but Justice to her Sex, that are too often much abus'd by ours, there­fore as I profess my self Knight-Errant, 'tis fit that I protect her.

2 Shep.

You protect her, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Don Qu.

Knights, I will do't, and more then that against ye all.

San.

That he will, srogs, and against a hundred more of ye for all your Grinning.

1 Shep.

Oons what do the Bedlams mean; Come Friends, let's bind 'em, and put 'em into the Dark, the Fools are Distracted.

Don Qu.

I'll try how sound your Senses are, Sir Dogbolt.

Fight here, and Don Quixote and Sancho beat 'em all off, then Re-enter Don Quixote and Sancho, strutting.
San.

There's for your [...]rinning, Rogues, I think I am even with ye [Page 24] now; woons! what a fine thing fighting is, when a Man is sure of having the better of it? And what a delicate difference there is between a To­ledo-Blade, and a Sheephook? But come, Sir, let's get away for fear they Rally, 'sbud I think I behav'd my self bravely.

Don Qu.

Why troth, if thou couldst but keep thy Eyes open a little better, thou might'st in time come to do something: But a plague o [...] thee, thou fight'st as a Crab Crawls▪ backwards, for Instead of giving one of 'em a side long thump Just now, if I had not step'd quick aside thou hadst strook my Knighthood o'er the Pate? But however, thou mean'st well, I dare swear, and I believe fight'st as well as thou can'st.

And he's no braver that subdues [...]n Host,
Then he is that stands still and keeps his Post.
Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. The Inn.

Enter Perez and Dorothea.
Doroth.

AH, Sir, I beg ye for my Mother's sake, or if you e [...]r lov'd poor Dorothea, when with her Pratling Infant Innocence▪ and springing Beauty in it's early blossom, she us'd to please, by both I do Conjure ye, let me not see my Father.

Perez.

Trust to me; You must to your past crime add a gre [...]er, by Hateful Disobedience.

Doroth.

Oh! I shall dye with shame; Alas! I left him alone unfriended, warp'd with Age and Sorrow! That good Old Man▪ That kind Indul­gent Father, I shall never dare, forlo [...]n as now, to meet his Eyes again! Barbarou [...] Fernando, that False Cruel Tyrant, pleas'd with the spoils of my dear Virgin Honour, has Ravish'd that blest [...]ight for ever from me.

Perez.

Had you no Contract from this false Fernando.

Doroth.

In Vows and Oaths a thousand; I was too Artless to desire him more: Heavens! He would swear till he was black in the Face; Dissemble six long hours by the Clock; and when he Vow'd the truth of his Affection, the Potestation [...] came so fast and thick, so feirce with­all and Eager in Expressing, that I've been fain to let him kiss and breath for fear the thronging Lies should suffocate him.

Perez.

Yet after all this to pretend to marry Lucinda; Nay, forge a false Letter from her, to her betroath'd Love Cardenio, implying she had deserted him; and then sacrilegiously steal her from a Nunnery, to which she fled for Sanctuary, is such a stain to his Nobility as wants Example▪ and rather than not have Justice done thee, Girl, I resolve the Court shall know it.

Doroth.

To marry Luscinday there's the dart that stung me! Oh, let all Virgins by my Fate take Warning, and never more believe that faith­less Sex.

Perez.

Come, no more Tears; a Cause so Just as thine can never wa [...]t an Advocate.

Doroth.

'Twas that Heart-breaking News that stabb'd me most; so that forgetting Father, Sex, and Honour, in this disguise I w [...] resolv'd to seek him, and either Cause him to perform his Vows, or Die in the pursuite of my desire.

[Page 26] Enter Nicholas.
Perez.

The Lady Luscinda shall be instantly inform'd of his Treachery and what Interest I can make against him thou art assur'd of: Come let's about it—How now, thy Face seems to have some surprize in't. Is there any News stirring?

[...]
Nicho.

Yes, and some that will surprize you, indeed, or I'm mista­ken; As I was standing at my Post without, to give you the better oportu­nity of Discourse, who should I see below at the Inn door, but Don Fernando, and in the Habit of a Nun, a Lady with him.

Perez.

Strange Fortune, art thou sure 'twas he?

Doroth.

Oh Heaven, how my Heart throbs?

Nicho.

I saw his Face, and also guess the Lady, to be the Fair Luscinda, there's some strange difference between 'em, for by her Actions she seem'd much dissatisfy'd; hark, they are coming up this way, step but into the next Room you may discover more.

Perez.

Do so, good Niece, and let's observe 'em, then when thou seest thy opportunity — appear and charge him boldly, I'll not be far off.

Doroth.

Nay, I will speak to him, tho' Death attends it.

Exeunt
Enter Fernando, and Luscinda, in the Habit of a Nun.
Luscin.

Is there no end of your Impiety, have Nunnery Walls, strong Gates, nor Iron Bars, nay, nor the Deity Ador'd within, to whom I fled for help in my distress, not power enough to hinder one Man's wick­edness? you Sacred Powers, Have you forgot your Justice? that you send none to succor poor Luscinda.

Fernand.

The Powers you speak of, Madam, that knew what's bet­ter for ye, than you did for your self, you see assisted me in my de­sign.

Luscind.

Oh Impious Wretch, dare you think Heaven assisting in wicked Actions? No, 'twas the Aid of Hell, in some curst Minute, when all good Angels slept, or else stood Neuter.

Fernand.

Hell, Madam, what has Hell to do in Love Affairs? the Devil is Foe progess'd to Amity, no, my sole Aid, was my own prospe­rous Genius, Courage t'attempt, and fortune to succeed, this gave me power to scale your Nunnery Walls, and recompense my Love with spoils of Beauty.

Luscind.

Have you no Conscience, you are of Noble Blood, and in your Veins should run a stream of Virtue, that should distribute Justice through your Soul; Cardenio was your Friend, my betroth'd Husband, and in severing us, you do not only fix a foul stain upon your Houses Honour, but violate the Laws of all Humanity.

Fernand.
[Page 27]

Why then let that most great and strong Omnipotence, that to my Fames Confusion, makes my Love, answer for all my Crimes▪ I love Luscinda, and 'tis in vain to tell me the mischiefs I have done, I know 'em all, I know I have been Treacherous to Cardenio, False to my Friend, but 'twas for Love of thee, I own I forg'd a Letter in thy Name, which caus'd his sad Distraction, and Ruine, but thou wert still the cause; nay, more than thy Beauty, made me a Traitor to an innocent Virgin; forget my Vows, break all my Oaths and Promises, and leave her Preg­nant, with Heart-breaking Sorrows, and Love's dear Load, the Trophy of my Conquest, to follow still my headlong Fate and Thee.

Luscind.

Oh Heaven, and can you own all this without a Blush, a scar­let Blush, to stain your Cheeks for ever.

Fernand.

Why should I deny it, I still have too much Honour to dis­semble, I've told this Truth only to let thee see, the power of thy At­tractions and my Love, think what the Man would do for thee, when his, that could do all these mighty Ills to get thee; if thou wouldst have me virtuous, do but Love me, the Miracle is wrought, for 'tis a Sacred Verity, what Sins soe're Love drives me to commit, thou art the cer­tain cause, And since I know the scruple, which the Priests call Honou­rable, Affects you Women, more than Love or Fortune; take there my Hand, and be this hour my Wife, I vow it most Religiously.

Luscind.

No, kill me rather, and wed me to the Grave, I'll dye a thousand deaths, rather than falsify one Sacred Vow, or the least Parti­cle of plighted Faith to my beloved Cardenio.

Fernand.

Keep then that Faith for him, give me but the Reward, that my Desire and Services deserve, and I'll be satisfied.

Luscind.

Vile wretch, Would you dishonour me?

Fernand.

Not I by Heaven, your stubborn obstinacy and faulty noise, these may perhaps dishonour ye, not I, I'll be as secret as the Virgins Blush, that with a Rosie Tincture paints her Cheeks, when trembling she consents.

Luscind.

You will not force me, rash, as you are, young and ungo­vernable, you dare not be so base.

Fernand.

Oh thou needst not fear it, thou wilt be kind, and give me no occasion; I must confess, it is not with my liking to Cater for my Love as Satyrs do, Beauty's most sweet to me that's won with Patience, Heart-burnings, Dangers, Plottings, and Contrivances; I'll wait on thee, and watch thee into yielding, tire thee with Sighs, and mould thee soft with Kisses, dress the dear Banquet with industrious skill, that I may hereafter feed with greater pleasure.

Luscind.

Come, come my Lord, let Reason take its place, and let these flowing Tears quench your hot Blood; remember who you are, what I am too, then you must do me Justice.

Fern.
[Page 28]

And you must do it me, remember who thou art, I do most sensibly, thou art mine by a double Right, by your Fathers consent First, and next by Stratagem: you'll urge, perhaps you were betroth'd t'ano­ther, fled to a Nunnery to perform your Vow, and I that forc'd you from it, act strange Sacrilege: but I, sweet Creature, am not of that opinion: Are those dear Eyes that warm all Hearts—with Passion, that lovely Face and Body, fit for a Nunnery? F [...]e, Sweet, 'tis Con­tradiction to the intent of Providence, that gave thee Beauty to De­light and Love; A Nunnery Air in two days time would kill thee, make thy plump Youth lean as Anatomy, and Prayer would waste thee into a Consumption.

Luscind.

Ah! never think to move me with your Fallacies, I'm fix'd as Fate.

Fernand.

'Twas Sacriledge to Love, not to have freed thee, and Treason to my Self had not I Lov'd; as for the failure to my Friend, 'tis trivi­al, when Beauty Charms, Friendship avails but little, and I may think, had the occasion offer'd, Cardenio would have done the same to me.

Luscind.

Oh no, he was too good, too true a Friend, see me, my Lord, thus Prostrate at your Feet; if ever Pity Lodg'd within your Bosom, If Human Nature, or the S [...]nse of Honour, have not quite left your Soul, and the Brute enter'd, by all the Sacred Powers I do implore ye to desist from your bad purpose, for be assur'd, I never will consent. Luscinda Kneels and Weeps.

Fernand.

What suddain shock was that? a Bolt of Ice, methought shot through my Heart: I'm cold, as if an Ague Fit had seiz'd me: hah, What am I doing? What lovely Tears are those? I find I'm but a squeamish Whoremaster, I am not harden'd enough to go through with't,—Ah! that sparkling Glance has shot new Fire agen into my Soul, and I would dwell upon this Breast for ever; Oh thou Great God of Love, that Rul'st our Passions, Com­mand'st our Wills to baffle Reason, Honour, Virtue, Religion, Fame, and all Morality, influence her Bosome with thy hottest Flame, and let her feel thy Power.

Enter Dorothea.
Doroth.

I am come.

Fernand.

Hah,—What art thou?

Doroth.

I am what you call'd for Love, or if you please to have me use another Nomination, to express all tender Attributes of Passion, in Sorrows, Sighs and Tears; I'm Dorothea.

Fernand.

Dorothea, by Heaven 'tis she dropt out o'th' Clouds, I think.

Luscind.

A very Angel, sure, sent to relieve me.

Doroth.
[Page 29]

I am a Messenger from him you invok'd, who gives you strict Commands to obey his Laws; and in a more especial manner, Con­stancy for breach of that his dreadful Vengeance, punishes much more than all the rest; this I am come to tell ye.

Fernand.

You are come very opportunely indeed, you have nick'd the time, that I must needs say.

Doroth.

Oh my dear Lord! the Joy I have to see ye, exceeds my Sorrow to have heard what's past, for I have heard it all.

Fernand.

Why then you have heard enough in Conscience, a Plague of my hot Head, that could not consider the inconvenience of a damn'd Inn, when a Love Intrigue was going forward — so then I know I must expect your hatred.

Doroth.

Oh Heaven! my Hatred, what for a small frailty, a slight forgetfulness, which all young Men have Naturally, when their Loves are absent, to remedy which, and to prevent such danger in this Dis­guise, through Groves and Plains I've sought ye, left Parents, Kin­dred, Friends, and all the World to follow my dear Lord.

Fernand.

And now you have found me, shall I beg one Favour.

Doroth.

You may Command my Life.

Fernand.

'Tis this then—to leave me instantly.

Doroth.

Ah, that's not in my power till I am dead, I'm bound by Oath, as you are, to the contrary, but that I e'er can hate ye, is impossible; no, no, my Lord, what would make other Women Loath and De [...]ert, has no effect on me; what tho' I see you cling to that young Beauty, doat on her Looks, and languish for her Favours, it moves not me, I know too well my Power; I am as Fair as She, as young, as Charming, Form'd for the Pleasure of my Dearest Lord; Blest too with Virtue, Constancy, and Duty equal to her, or any of my Sex, and when he pleases, he'l return to me, in the mean time, I will not grudge the Kisses he gives others, but Love him for my own.

Luscind.

You shall have small occasion, Madam, to grutch me.

Doroth.

I know it, Madam, for you are Wise [...] Fair, and know to take anothers Right's Injurious, this is my Lord, my Dear, my be­troth'd Husband.

Fernand.

So, now all's ou [...], I never was so tric'kd in all my life, I know not what to say to her.

Doroth.

Madam, I hope you will not think me Rude, if I desire a little Privacy, I have a thousand Pass [...]onate things to say, fit for no Ear but his.

Luscind.

With all my Soul.

Is going, and he stops her.
Fern.
[Page 30]

Oh! I must beg your Pardon, the Jest must not go so far neither.

Doroth.

Nay, let her go my Lord, am not I here, the happy She that you were once fond of, What can you seek from her, I cannot give you? Remember, oh remember the dear Hours, when with transporting Passion you have sued for such an opportunity, when eve­ry Visitant was irksome as a Feavor, each flying Minute tedious, and too long, and all your Prayers and Wishes were Address'd, to invoke Night, that we might be alone, and can I now be troublesome?

Fernand.

'Ds'death, I shall ne'er hold out, I find I'm softning, her pretty Pleading Eyes, and Charming Tongue melt, me I know not how.

Luscind.

Blest Accident, there's pity in his Look, she wins upon him. Aside.

Doroth.

Madam, My Lord has thought on't now, and you may re­tire, if you please.

Fernand.

Art thou resolv'd to ruine thy self, darest thou provoke my Anger.

Doroth.

Not by my Will, Heaven knows, I'de lose my Life to please ye.

Fernand.

Too Credulous Fool, How couldst thou believe I would af­front 'my Quality, by mixing with thy Lowness.

Doroth.

I was not basely Born, besides, could boast a Noble value in my Face and Virtue, which made Don Fernand think me worthy of him, and raise me to his Love, which while Life lasts I will preserve for ever.

Fernand.

Why wilt thou add to thy Misery, by Obstinacy, poor Creature, I shall kill thee.

Doroth.

Why then, no harmless Dove, or tender Infant, will ever dye so patient: death I long have Courted, and should you stab my too fond Heart this Instant, you should perceive me smile to meet the blow; make me your Slave, put round my Neck a Chain, wear my poor Arms with Fetters to the Bone, torture this Body where your Image lies with Cruelties unpractised, and what's worse then all, before my Face, Act Kindness to another.

You are my Fate, which still I must pursue,
To shew the World what constant Love can do.
Fern.

And might I chuse a Wife 'mongst you bright Host of Radiant Angels, thee I'de prefer before 'em; Runs and Embraces her. Oh thou dear Charmer, thou hast once more won me, cur'd my dull Sight, and made me see my Folly, shot thy Perfections to my Heart, so strongly, they shall live there for ever.

Doroth.

Oh killing Joy.

Luscind.
[Page 31]

Ay, now my Lord I honour ye, this was a noble conquest o're your Passions.

Fern.

Ah Madam, 'tis with Shame I bend my Knee to beg your Pardon for my Brutal Folly, I was Inchanted, Mad.

Luscind.

Not more my Lord, you have it.

Fern.

Heaven, what a thing is Man when Reason leaves him, but I'll retreive my Fame by my new Services, I'll seek Cardenio out, heal his Lovesick Frenzy, and fraught with Joys present him to your Arms.

Doroth.

Sure without some allay, my Heart can't bear these Transports of true pleasure.

Fern.

By Heaven, my Breast is so overcharged with Joy, there is no room for thought; call all below, there I'll have a thousand Witnesses of my new Contract and repeated Vows▪

Doroth

My Uncle Perez that with diligent care found me among the Shepherds, is within, and waits with Impatience, I know, my coming out.

Fern.

That good Man then shall joyn our Hands this Instant fast, fast, for ever, lead the way Luscinda, whilst I and my unvalued Blessings follow. Oh my best Life! how could I talk of killing thee, thou tenderest sweetest good, but with Love's Balm.

'I'll heal the hurt my rude Expressions gave,
'I was thy Tyrant, but am now thy Slave.

Exeunt.

SCENE II. Mountains and Rocks at the end of the Deep Grove.

Enter a Barber with a Bason on's Head, and carrying Triming Instruments, fol­lowed by Don Quixot, and Sancho mounted at distance
Barber
Sings.

With my Strings of small Wire—&c. Odsdiggers.— This was a rare Contrivance to keep me from the Rain, the Shower would have pepper'd me else Faith.

Don Qu.

Stand, Insolent Knight, and yield that precious Helmet or thou Dyest.

Barber.

Helmet, Oh Lord, what d'you mean Sir, what Helmet?

Don Qu.

That which thou bearest Wretch, the Golden Helmet of Mam­brino.

Barber.

Mambrino, ds'heart Sir, I know no such Man, I am a Barber Sir, and going to Trim a Gentleman in the next Town here, I never use a Helmet, this is nothing but a Bason, Sir.

Don Qu.

Hah, darest thou dispute, prepare then for the Combat.

goes to thurst at him.
Barber.

Help, Murder, Murder, ds'heartliking's is the Devil in the Man.

Runs off and let [...]s the B [...]son fall and Don Quixot takes it up.
Sancho.

Hey day, what a Plague are ye doing now, Zoons▪ will ye Rob the poor Barber.

Don. Qu.

What Barber, Jolthead? dost not see the Treasure I am Master [Page 32] of, for which I've watch'd so many Nights and Days, and oft resolv'd to lose my Life or purchase, this is the pretious Helmet of Mambrino, Rascal, which I have got as the spoils of Victory, from the Renown'd Knight of the three Roses.

Sancho.

From the Knight of the three Razors, you have indeed.

Don Qu.

Is it not rare? dost not admire the Workmanship?

Sancho.

Why, troth Sir, the Bason I must needs say is as clever a Bason as a Man would desire to be Lather'd in, but as for any great Workman­ship that I see in the Bason.

Don. Qu.

Bason, what Bason Sott, I tell thee 'tis a Helmet.

Sancho.

A Helmet, ha, ha, ha, ha, what is this a Helmet?

Don Qu.

A famous one, and made of Spanish Gold, in value wor [...] a Province, only there wants a Beaver.

Sancho.

Only you want Brains rather, say, ha, ha, [...]a, ha. And so this Helmet you say is all Gold, so, is it?

Don Qu.

Of Purest Gold, by art too made Impenetrable.

Sancho.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, very good, why then I know where the Wind sits, but of little medling comes great Ease, let not the fault of the Ass be laid upon the Pack-Saddle, every Herring must hang by its own Gills, and he that hears much, and speaks not at all, is welcome both in Bower and Hall, and he that—

Don Qu.

And he that has the Tayl and Cloven Feet, take thee for a Blockhead, art thou stringing thy Proverbs again, And a Pox take thee, without Head or Tail to 'em, look out th [...]re, D [...]lt, and see who's coming, if my Eyes dazzle not, here's an Adventure will give occasion to em­ploy this Helmet.

Sancho.

Pray Heaven we meet no more Carriers, my Bones ake still with the last Combatt of Honour, but I think if my Eyes inform right, here's no great fear of a Quarrel, these People are all bound to the peace already.

Enter Palameque, Quartrezzo, Lope, Ruiz, Martinez, Tenorio, and Gi­nes de Passamonte, Chain'd as Galley Slaves, with two Officers and other Soldiers Guarding them.
Don Qu.

Bless me, what Scene of Cruelty is this, dost thou observe how they have Chain'd and Bound these honest People.

Sancho.

Honest People, what a Plag [...]e are ye Blind again, Zoons! don't you see that these are Rogues, Condemn'd for some Notorious Crim [...] and forc'd by the King to serve in the Galleys.

Don Qu.

Force, Sancho, the King can force no Body, I must examine this.

Sancho.

Nay, if you come to examining once, here's like to be fine Work.

1 Officer.

Pedro, go before to the Inn, at the bottom of the Hill yonder, and bring hither some Wine and a Manchet, tha [...] we may refresh a lit­tle, the heat of the Day and the Dust have almost Choak'd me

Ex Pedro.

come you Sir Thief, of more then common mark, what

To Gines.

are you employing your self about? what are you gnawing of your Ch [...]in hah?

Gines.
[Page 33]

Gnawing it, why d'e make an Ostrich of me? d'e think I can digest Iron? Confound the World, you know well enough I suppose the strength of the Necklace I wear here, or you would not be so Rusty; I should teach you another manner of Speech if my Ten Pickers were at liberty: But come, 'tis well enough, there's no more to be said.

[...]. Offic.

Sirrah, hold your Tongue, and leave swelling, least I make St. Andrew's Cross upon your Pate.

Don Q.

By this Man's Inhumanity, Sancho, I do perceive these Wretches have great need of my assistance, therefore I have some thoughts to free 'em.

Sancho.

The Devil you will.

Don Q.

It falls out fitly for my Knightly Function to succour the Distressed; therefore no more of your Proverbial Fooleries. I tell thee I'll make them free as Air.

Sancho.

O Lord, O Lord! Why, pray, Sir, consider a little, you are going to free these Rogues from the Gallies, and the Holy Brother­hood will send us thither in their places; oh that ever I was born! Oons, consider, Good Sir, consider what you are doing.

Don Q.

Thou foulest Insect, can'st thou fear the Brotherhood, when I am by thee; follow me, I say, and Courageously too, or by the Star of my hopes, my fairest Dulcinea del Toboso, I'll spit thee like a Frog.

Sancho.

Oh what will become of me; 'sheart, I shall have that grim Fellow's Sword in my Guts within this two Minutes.

Don Q.

Captain, as a Knight-Errant, on whose sacred Office depends the Laws of executing Justice, and consequently to be well Informed in the Case of the Afflicted, I request to know the reason why these Men are carried thus; for, if my Judgment has inform'd me right, 'tis much against their Wills.

1. Offic.

Against their Wills, Sir, why troth, I think there need no great dispute to be made of that; I suppose, there are few Ma­lefactors so very stout hearted to go to the Gallies with their own consent.

Don Q.

Generous Sir, your Answer is Ingenious, and I beseech you therefore, give me leave to add a little to this Obligation, and know from you, before you pass on further, the nature of their se­veral Crimes.

Sancho.

So, he's got into his Examinations, and the Devil can't hinder him.

1. Offic.

The Nature of their Crimes, ha, ha, ha,

viewing Don Q.

what has he got on his Head there, a Bason? who the Devil is this Scare-Crow, I wonder? a Man would take him for one of the Knights of the Round-Table, if 'twere no [...] for his Brazen Head-Piece there

aside.

The nature of their Crimes, ha, ha, ha, ha, why faith, Sir Knight, or Sir Errant, or what you please to call your self, [Page 34] I'm not at leisure to give you a six hours Information of their several Affairs; but if you think fit to take a brief Relation from themselves there they are, I shall have patience till my Comrade comes, and so your Servant, good Knight of the Bason; ha, ha, ha.

Don Q.

Captain, your Courtesie obliges me. Well Friend,

To Palam.

what adverse Planet, or odd turn of Fortune has made thee we [...] that Collar, hah.

Palam.

Love, Sir.

Don Q.

Love, Can there be such Barbarity in Nature to Chain the Brave, and make 'em Slaves, for Loving: Heavens, I my self had bin long since in th' Gallies, if Love had bin a Crime that could Condemn me: No, no, dear Brother, set thy Heart at rest, whilst there's a Lover's Arm, and Conqu'ring Sword to strike in thy defence, for this thou shalt not suffer.

Embracing the Slave.
Palam.

Ay, but good Sir, your patience, my Love was not the sort that you conjecture, for you must know, Sir, I was in Love with a parcel of Gold Plate, and that so desperately, that hugging on't too closely had not the Commissary took me napping, I believe we had joined Affections till this hour.

San [...]ho.

Look'e, Sir, the Lover there has open'd his Case very plain­ly, He that handles a Thorn shall prick his Fingers; your dear Brother has told ye he's no better than a Thief, in few words.

Don Q.

The Function discovers Wit in't however, Blockhead. And History tells us, some have made themselves great by't, the Wise Lacedaemonians had none but Thieves in their Privy-Council; but let that pass now. My young-Stripling, what say you to th' matter? how came you strung here? what brought your Neck to th' Yoke?

To Lope Ruez.
Lope.

The King's Evil, Sir.

Don Q.

How so, Can the Law punish thee for a Disease.

Lope.

No, no, Sir, want o [...] Money and ill Friends, that's the Evil I mean.

Don Q.

Gad thou'rt in the right, Brother, that's a King's Evil indeed.

Sancho.

So, that's his Brother too, he'll pick up a World of Relati­ons amongst these honest People.

Lope.

My fault was nothing, only a slip o'th' Tongue, a little Per­jury or so, but having no Money, and a damn'd Covetous Lawyer, that would let no Man Swear falsly but himself, I could not get it off, so was sent hither.

Don Q.

'Twas hard, troth Brother, but come, to the next in Order, what says your thoughtful Neighbour here, what's he in for?

To Quartrezzo.
Quart.

Why, for a few hot words the Law call'd Treason, I hate the Government, and I spoke my Mind.

Don. Q.

There's a brave Fellow for ye now!

Sancho.

Oh! a very brave Fellow indeed! — damn'd Rogue, I warrant▪ the Gallows groans for him.

Aside.
1 Officer.
[Page 35]

His Brother, there too, has the self-same Kidney; there are not two such Traitors in all Spain.

Don Q.

Gad, a mettled Fellow that too, I warrant him, and who knows but some Villainous Lye of some Court Pimp or other has brought him into this condition. Gad, I have seen many a Priest that has not had so honest a look.

Sancho.

Nay he's an extream honest Person without doubt— Oh Lord, now do I begin to tremble.

Don Q.

But come to the Text: What says my old Friend here? What unkind Star? What strange malevolence brings that grey Beard to this calamity? Thy Aspect does seem wise, and I should guess thy Occupation has been Noble too.

Tenorio.

It has, Sir, and most Ancient: I have bin now this Fifty year [...] a Bawd, but that brought me not here, Sir; 'Twas foolish cu­riosity to know Simples, dealing in Herbs, Wax, Crooked Pins, and Needles, which the vulgar said they found in Sheep and Children; this brought me hither. To be plain, Sir, I am hamper'd now for Witchcraft.

Sancho.

Oh! A small matter, a thing of nothing.

Don Q.

For Witchcraft, Umph! 'Twas there then the Devil ow'd thee an ill turn: Thy Bawding Trade was honourable enough; great Ministers and Court-Matrons have bin Bawds; the Occupa­tion is of ancient standing. But now to th' last; here is, methinks, a Fellow that has a written Volume in his Face of Actions wonder­ful, chain'd more too than the rest: The Reason, Captain?

1 Officer.

The Reason: Why, the Reason is, because that's the very Devil of a Fellow; his Name is Gines de Passamonte, a most no­torious Villain, that has done more Mischief alone than all the rest have; and, besides, so plaguy strong, that we are not sure he's fast enough, for all he's chain'd so.

Don Q.

'Faith he's a fine Person to look on, his Face and Whiskers wou'd become Knight-Errantry extreamly, pray look up, Sir, and as the rest have done; be plea [...]ed to tell me how the Gallies chance to be honour'd with your Company.

Gines.

Oh, Sir, for that your humble Servant; 'tis no new thing to me, they have bin honour'd with that before now, Sir; I know how the Water and Bucket will agree with my hot Stomach.

Don. Q.

What! for some Duel of Honour, I warrant; some Go­vernors proud Nephew kill'd by thy Noble Hand.

Gines.

No, no, Sir, my Hand was imploy'd another way; I was condemn'd for seven Years the first time, for ravishing my Sister: Confound the World; I lik'd her, and there's an end on't.

Sancho.

Oh! there's another very honest Fellow too.

Gines.

And now I'm going thither for Robbing a Church: I had occasion for the Plate and Ornaments, to raise some Money to buy my Whore a Petticoat; and, just as I had got 'em, the Devil sent the [Page] Priest to stop me; but I soon gagg'd and hamstring'd that poor Fool, fought through the Town, and, had not a whole Troop of Dragoons, that were by chance a Must'ring, fall'n upon me, I and my Purchase had bin now at liberty.

Sancho.

Very good: Did you never hear of a thing call'd Con­science, pray Friend?

Gines.

Conscience! What's that, the Itch? I had it when I was a Boy, I remember.

Sancho.

O Lord, Conscience the Itch! — here's a damn'd Son of a Whore for ye. —

Aside.

And so then I warrant, honest Gines, you wou'd fleece me too upon occasion, were you loose, and I had a good Booty?

Gines.

No, no▪ thou look'st too much like a Thief thy self, thou should'st pass free; we always spare one another.

Don Q.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, there's for you, Bufflle; by the Honour of Knighthood thou deserv'st thy Freedom, if 'twere but for that Jest— Give me thy Hand.

Gines.

I have use for them; but there's my Foot at your Service.

Kicks him.
Don Q.

Oh, I cry thee Mercy, I see thou art manacled— but pri­thee don't be angry, Friend; hark ye, what wou'dst say now if I shou'd give thee Liberty?

Gines.

Nothing.

Don Q.

Why so?

Gines.

Because an impossibility offer'd by a Fool, deserves no an­swer from a wise Man.

Sancho.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, there I think, Sir, your Brother Gines was even with you too.

Don Q.

That thou shalt see presently, and whether to our Profes­sion any thing is impossible. Sir Captain, I have with Care ex­amin'd all your Prisoners, and find tho' there are several heinous Faults committed, for which the Law shou'd punish 'em, yet the main Stroke of Justice belongs to Heaven; to Heaven's Vengeance therefore let us leave 'em. And, since I am by Oath bound to re­lieve 'em, as Wretches and distressed, let me intreat you, as a Respect to me, to give 'em Liberty.

1 Officer.

Liberty! what a Plague, would you have me set the King's Prisoners at Liberty? 'Oons, who would be mad then? No, no, good Sir Errant, march on your way, and settle your Bason right there — Free the King's Prisoners! that were a good one 'faith.

Don Q.

Your Pate shall want a Bason, Captain Scoundrel.

Knocks him down and disarms him.

Run, Sancho, and help Gines; now, peer­less Dulcinea, aid thy Knight; unfetter Gines, dear Sancho.

Sancho.

Now can't I deny him for the Soul of me, tho' Heaven knows what Mischief will come on't.

[Page 37] Here Sancho trips up another's Heels, then unfetters Gines, then th [...]y all release one another, th [...]n they strip the Captain, who runs off: Then enter second Officer with Wine; Gines siezes it, strips him, throws all the rest down on one another, and beats 'em.
2. Offic.

On, the Devil! what's here to do! Treason, Treason; Murder, Murder.

Don Q.

Now let the World declare, whether Knight-Errantry is not the Noblest of all Sciences!

Struts about.
Sancho.

Or, whether Noble Squires of Knights-Errants ought not to be Earls and Governours of Islands!

Struts about.
Omnes.

Huzza, Liberty, Liberty: Thanks to the Noble Knight-Errant, Liberty, Liberty, Huzza.

Gines.

Thanks to our Noble and Valiant Redeemer; here's to his Health; and, Brothers, let's entertain him with a Song. Confound the World. Dear Redeemer, we are no more Rogues than the rest of Mankind; all the World are Rogues, and deserve the Galleys as much as we. Come sing the Song to that purpose, Brother.

SONG.
WHen the World first knew Creation,
A Rogue was a top Profession;
When there were no more in all Nature but Four,
There were two of them in Transgression,
And the Seeds are no less,
Since that you may guess,
But have in all Ages been growing apace;
There's Lying and Thieving,
Craft, Pride, and Deceiving,
Rage, Murder and Roaring,
Rape, Incest and Whoring,
Branch out from one Stock, the rank Vices in Vogue,
And make all Mankind one Gygantical Rogue.
View all humane Generation,
You'll find in every Station,
Lean Vertue decays, whilst Interest sways,
Th'ill Genius of the Nation.
All are Rogues in degrees,
The Lawyer for Fees,
The Courtier Le Cringe, and the Alderman squeeze;
[Page]The C [...]ter, the Toper,
The [...] Interlop [...]r,
[...] [...]unk, and the [...] of Piet [...] [...];
[...] all, he that [...],
And deserts the [...]
He that first to mend the [...]
Made Laws to bind our Nature,
Shou'd have found a way,
To make Wills obey;
And have Model'd new the Creature▪
For the Savage in Man,
From Original ran,
And in spight of Confinement now Reigns as began▪
Here's Preaching and Praying, and Reason d [...]splaying,
Yet Brother with Brother, is Killing and Slaying;
Then blame not the Rogue that free Sence does enjoy,
Then falls like a Log, and believes — he shall lie.
Don Q.

I do acknowledge, Sirs, your Musical Courtesie, and am well pleas'd to see your Gratitude; yet one thing more I must enjoin, without which the rest appears as nothing.

Gines.

Any thing: Confound the World; dear Redeemer, com­man [...] [...]y thing.

Don [...]

'Tis this; That you all, loaden with that Chain from which [...]ow have freed ye, go instantly to the great City of Toboso, and there, before my Mistress, Dulcinea, present your selves, letting her know, her Beauties Slave, Don Quixote de la Man [...]ha, has sent you to her to enquire her Health.

Palam.

[...]oso.

Quart▪

[...]ulcinea!

Mart.

Enquire her Health!

Gines.

And how far is this Toboso off, good Sir?

Sancho.

Not above a Thousand Leagues; not very far; 'tis a very pretty Message truly.

Gines

Confound the World, d'e know what you say, Sir, to desire us to go a Thousand Leagues? 'Oons, we must [...]ide our selves in the Mountains here by, for fear of being taken [...] we must shun all Roads and Cities.

Don Q.

How's that? Dare you disobey my Commands, Rascal?

Gines.

Rascal! Keep good Words in your Mouth. D'e hear Friend, we are no Sheep.

Sancho.

Good Sir, come away whilst you are well; that devilish Gines has Mischief in's Heart, I see by's Looks.

Lope.

We can't go to Toboso, not we, that's in short, Knight.

Gines.
[Page 39]

No, Knight, we'll go to no Toboso; if you have a Wench, there, and any News for her, you may send [...] by your Booby there; we thank ye for you [...]

Don Q.

But— [...] thee [...] self, and like a Cut to [...] Legs.— [...]all on, Sancho, let's chas [...]se [...]

Sancho.

[...] will become of us now?

Here [...] upon 'em; they run to a hea [...] of Stones, and [...] him and Sancho down, and beat 'em.
Palam.

Come, Sirs, the Coast is clear▪ now let's away.

Gines.
Follow me, Boys, I'll carry ye where ye may soulk securely,
To a plump Doxy here hard by of mine
Shall cheer your Hearts with Kisses and good Wine.
Exeunt.
The End of the Third Act.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. The Mountain of Sierra Morena con­tinues.

Don [...]uixote and Sancho appear lying along on the Ground.
Don Q.

SAncho.

Sancho.

Umph.

Groans.
Don Q.

Son Sancho, Art thou asleep?

Sancho.

Oh, yes, upon a Down-Bed, the Governour lies, as you [...]ee here, stretch'd at his Ease, thanks to your most Invincible Arm, only with some Two or Three Hundred Bruises of State upon his Bones. I have got my Earldom, and a load of Honour now, or else the Devil's in't.

Don Q.

Look'e, Sancho, I have often told thee, these Successes of Chivalry cannot always be of one Degree or Value; so that tho' naturally, as it may happen, that a Kingdom or a Continent may drop into a Knight-Errant's Mouth, and an Earldom or a Pro­vince into his Squire's; so sometimes too they may chance to meet with Carriers Packstaves, Giants like Windmills, Thumps with Stones, and the like; nor are they to grumble or repine at the va­riety of Accidents, because they are liable to our Profession.

Sancho.
[Page]

Profession! 'Oons, yours is the Devil of a Profession, be­sides all your Accidents, I mean your ill ones (for good I de­spair of) are, a plague on't, all of your own making. Would any one with an Ounce of Brains, after he had miraculously done such an Exploit, have pretended to force those rude Rogues to go a Thousand Leagues off, upon a sleeveless Errand to the Devil, to Toboso?— I know not where. Ah.

Don Q.

Very well, Sancho, talk on, talk on, the smarting of thy Bones I do perceive has made thee sharp and witty.

San. grins at him.
Sanch.

Come, come, Sir, Brabling Curs never want sore Ears: 'Tis but an ill Procession where the Devil carries the Candle: He that speaks does sow, and he that holds his Tongue may reap. I think I pay dear enough for't if I do talk.

Don Q.

I confess thou hast Reason, as I have, to resent it; but who could expect such Ingratitude after so good a Turn?

Sancho.

Who? Woons! Who could expect otherwise from such honest People? Han't you heard often enough the old Proverb, Save a Thief from the Gallows, and he shall be the first to hang ye? —Ah, plague of your Brethren, your Brother Gines of Passamonti, the De­vil pass him, 'has made me black and blue on my left Side here: But let it go, the Governour will be wiser one day.

Don Q.

If a desponding Puppy were fit to make a Governour of, I say that for thee, Sancho, thou wouldst make a rare one: But come, I'll not anger thee now, because I know thou art in pain; prithee come hither, and see how many Cheek-Teeth and others they have beaten out here, for it seems to me that my Mouth is quite empty.

Sancho.

Ay, there's some other part of your Head empty too besides your Mouth, if I am not mistaken: But come, let's see, O monstrous! here's six Grinders wanting on one

Peeps in's mouth.

side: Oh unfortunate and deplorable State of Knights-Errant! that wander over Mountains and Valleys, committing Omicils and Slaugh­ters, not heeding the Sun, the Moon, nor the 'Clipses, or the wild Campaigne, tho' never so Estill for the reward of broken Teeth and Bruises.

Don Q.

Oh Profanation to all Learning and Sciences! Omicils, 'Clipses, Campaigne, and Estill, for Homicides, Eclipses, Champi­on and Sterril! Be dumb, thou Earth-worm, or speak in thy own Stile, on pain of Annihilation. A plague on thee, thou confounded Prevaricator of Language.

Cardenio Sings within.
Sancho.

Why then, in my own Stile, for you know well enough that I'm no Schollard, I believe here's another Adventure coming, and I hope 'twill end better than the last, because it begins Musically.

Don Q.

Ha! who have we here?

Cardenio enters in Ragged Cloaths, and in [...] wild Posture sings a Song. Then Exit.
[Page]
SONG.
LEt the dreadful Engines of eternal will,
The Thunder roar, and crooked Lightning kill;
My Rage is [...]ot, as theirs, as fatal too,
And dares as horrid execution do.
Or let the Frozen North its rancour show,
Within my Breast far greater Tempests grow;
Despair's more cold than all the Winds can blow.
Can nothing, nothing warm me?
Yes, Lucinda's Eyes;
There Etna, there, there Vesuvio lies,
To furnish Hell with flames,
That mounting reach the Skies.
Ye Pow'rs, I did but use her Name,
And see how all all the Meteors flame,
Blew Lightning flashes round the Court of Sol,
And now the Globe more fiercely burns
Than once at Phaeton's fall.
Ah! where are now those Flow'ry Groves,
Where Zephir's fragrant Winds did play?
Where guarded by a Troop of Loves,
the fair Lucinda sleeping lay;
There Sung the Nightingale and Lark,
around us all was sweet and gay;
We ne'er grew sad till it grew dark,
nor nothing fear'd but short'ning day.
Glow, I glow, but 'tis with hate,
Why must I burn for this ingrate?
Cool, cool it then, and rail,
Since nothing will prevail.
When a Woman Love pretends, 'tis but till she gains her ends,
And for better, and for worse, is for Marrow of the Purse,
Where she filts you o'er and o'er, proves a Slattern or a Whore.
This hour will teize and vex,
And will Cuckold ye the next:
They were all contriv'd in spight,
To torment us, not delight,
But to scold, and scratch and bite,
And not one of them proves right,
But all are Witches by this light:
And so I fairly bid'em, and the World Good-night.
Don Q.
[Page 42]

By the Matter delivered in this Song, I perceive this poor Gentleman's distress was occasioned by Love; therefore 'tis fit I fol­low and relieve him.

Sancho.

You relieve him! 'Sbud, why, don't you see the Man's Mad; how the Devil can you relieve him, unless you could give him Physick? Pray, Sir, hold your self contented; you may be a good Knight-Errant, but for a Brain-curer, the Lord have mercy upon ye.

Don Q.

Thou art a Clod, Sancho, and hast not Soul enough to fa­thom the depth of my Understanding; but know, thou Lump un­form'd, that our Profession extends to aid the Mind, as well as Body; were he as Mad as Ajax, or that stout Peer of France, Orlando Furioso, with one hours Conference, I'd make him spout Politicks, with a Secretary of State, Law with a Judge at the Assizes, and Theology with a Convocation of Bishops, therefore follow me, and saddle Rosi­nante immediately, for I intend to overtake him, and then thou shalt see this done in an instant.

Exit Don Quix.
Sancho.

I shall see my self well thrash'd agen, I believe, and so 'tis likely will end the Adventure of the Madman; but hang't, the Devil is not always at one door, He that is in is half way over, there's no help for't now, I must follow him, tho' my Government come at last to be no better than to govern a Herd of Cattel; Well, He that blows in the Dust will make himself Blind; and If it were not for hope, the Heart would break, there's Three Proverbs left yet to comfort me.

Exit after him.
Enter Don Fernando, Lucinda dress'd like a Nun, Dorothea in her Shepherdess Cloaths, with Perez and Nicholas.
Doroth.

Can you then be so good? Do I not dream that you have repented of your late unkindness, and now resolve to own poor Dorothea.

Don Fern.

The Resolution is as firm as Fate; thou'rt now my own for ever.

Lucind.

Blest Accent! And now, my Lord, I honour ye: This was a noble Conquest o'er your Passions.

Perez.

'Tis Great and Worthy, like himself.

Don Fern.

Ah! Madam, 'tis with shame I bend my Knee to beg your pardon for my Brutal Folly: But I'll retrieve my Credit by my new Service, in presenting to your Arms the wrong'd Cardenio.

Lucind.

All Honour and Happiness attend your Lordship; and pray Heaven we may find him quickly: Oh how I long to give that Heart a Remedy that lost its Peace for me!

Perez.

He cannot be far off; for, as the Shepherds have directed us, yonder's the Rock wherein he sleeps by Night, and where 'tis likely we may find him.

Nichol.
[Page 43]

And did they say Don Q [...]xote was here too?

Perez.

Both he and Sancho: Therefore, my Lord, if you are re­solv'd to further the Contrivance I lately told ye of, and do an Act of Charity, by getting the poor Lunatick Gentleman home to his House, this is the Place and Juncture.

Don Fern.

Most willingly, and will make one my self: For the Scene well Acted, must needs create Diversion. Come, my sweet Love, you must have your part too.

Perez.

Oh! my Lord, she is to be the Principal Actress, and we have a Dress ready for her: She's to Personate the Princess Mi­comicona, Queen of the geat Kingdom of Micomicon in AEthiopia; who being depos'd and driven from thence by a monstrous Giant called Pandafilando of the dusky sight, comes some three thousand Leagues to th' fam'd Don Quixote to redress her Wrongs and re- [...]nstate her: This Plot will doubtless draw the frantick Fool from these wild De­sarts, and we shall share the Mirth.

Doroth.

Let's about it presently: And for your Princess, let me a­lone to divert my dearest Lord here; you shall see me Act it like any Player.

Don Fern.

Ha, ha, ha, ha! I shall die with Laughing—I'll be some Don to Usher in your Majesty.

Nichol.

And I'll be your old Squire to introduce your coming: I have the Tail of mine Hosk Mare to make me a Beard shall reach to my Knees.

Don Fern.

'Twill be rare Sport; my Servants shall all be disguis'd too for the business: Come, Madam, pray be Merry with us, all will be well; I warrant ye, we shall soon find your Love Cardenio, and cure him of his Frenzy: I have already sent for a Doctor, and given order what to do: And, Madam, doubt not but you shall meet with Joy.

Lucin.

Heaven grant we may; let me but see Cardenio once more mine; I'll envy not the rest of the World's Pleasures.

Exeunt.
Enter Don Quixote, Cardenio, and Sancho.
Carden.

You much amaze me, Sir, in this wild Desart; a place that only suits the Miserable, where People Civilized never inhabit, to meet such Courtesie as yours.

Don Q.

Sir, Humanity is one of the best Rules of my Profession; and I shall be highly pleas'd, if my good fortune

Salute here.

has led me to be any way a means, that may contribute to your Satisfaction.

Carden.

Your Person I am wholly a stranger to, and cannot but admire, why in this Country, so blest with Peace, you practise Arts of War, and Travel thus in Armour: But perhaps there is a secret in't not proper for my knowledge; I'll therefore stint my Curiosity, [Page] and beg you, if you know where there is any thing to drink, to give a little to asswage my Thirst, for in this slender interval of Sence, I can make use on't; but if my Fit should take me, as at uncertain times it often does, all Charity were lost.

Don Q.

Run Sancho and search the Wallet, there is, I think, some Wine, bring it hither presently.

Sancho stares at Cardenio.
Sancho.

Why, here's another of the Starving too; a Knight-Er­rant, I warrant him, by his Tatters: What a devouring meagre look he has! 'Sbud, he makes me hungry at the very sight of him.

Exit.
Carden.

And now to satisfie your Curiosity, Sir, of knowing what I am, and how I came thus wretched, I will relate my Story, but with this Condition, that you will promise me upon your Honour, during the time of telling, not to Interrupt me, nor by a Question or Contradiction stop me, for if you should, my Accident of Mad­ness would return, and I should then do things Extravagant.

Re-enter Sancho with Wine.
Don Q.

Oh! fear not, Sir, you shall find me more attentive: Come, fill a Cup, Sancho:—Here, Sir, here's to your better Fortune.

Drinks.
Carden.

May yours be happy, Sir, with perpetual Blessings, what­ever becomes of me.

Sancho.

Why then, by my Governourship, I believe this plaguy Devil my Master can Conjure in good earnest; to my thinking the Madman talks as wisely as any Bishop of'em all already.

Cardenio drinks, they sit down.
Don Q.

Now pray begin, Sir, I am silent as a Dormouse; sit down Sancho.

Carden.

Know then, good Sir, my Name's Cardenio, a Gentleman of Arragon, well descended, who from my Childhood to my riper Years, liv'd with a Credit and Content unparallell'd, till Love, that fatal bane to humane happiness, subdued my senses to bewitching Beauty, and forc'd my Soul to doat upon Lucinda, a noble Virgin of unmatch'd perfection.

Don Q.

Hum, hum, hum.

Don Quixote makes signs of ap­plauding his Story without speaking.
Sancho.

Come, Sir, Sorrow's dry, and before you go any further, here's your Lady Sindys health.

Drinks and fills to Cardenio.
Don Q.

Peace, Blockhead; or if you must be Mannerly, with a pox t'ye—do it by Signs as I do.

Don Q. seems to threaten Sancho.
Carden.

Take heed, good Friend; pray remember the Conditions. Sir, I lov'd her, and was lov'd with that Success, nothing was wanting but the happy Day, to crown our Wishes, which was at last appointed.

Don Q.
[Page 45]

Hum, hum, hum.

Makes Signs.
Carden.

And because Love's best Guard is Secrecy, I trusted my Af­fair only to one, the Son of a Grandee, his Name Fernando, my Youth's Companion, and, as I thought, my Friend: him I entrusted with my dearest Treasure, and in his Honour thought my self se­cure.

Don Q.

Hum, hum, hum.

Sancho.

Hey, hoe, hum.

Drinks.
Carden.

But ah, let none depend on th' Hearts Sincerity, because the Face seems honest; for some few Days after, Lucinda having a great Wit and Genius, and one that still delighted much in Reading, I sent to her by my false Friend, Fernando, a foolish Book of Chi­valry, call'd Amadis du Gaul; not that she valu'd it for the Contents, for she had Sence to know 'twas all ridiculous, the Exploits of the Knights-Errant, all Romantick, and their whole Volumes fill'd with lying Fables. But—

Sancho.

But! A plague on your Buts, — You

Don Qu. starts. and stares.

have done your Business: Gad'zooks, here will be Murder presently, my Master will tear out the Soul of him, if he speaks a Word more against Knights-Errant.

Carden.

But that before, we had a rallying Argument upon a mo­dern Madman call'd Don Quixote, a strange whim­sical

Don. Q frowns.

Monster, in which I affirm'd, That the Bright, Renowned, and Peerless Dulcinea, fam'd Mistress of that foolish frantick Ideot, had once a Bastard by her Apothecary.

Don Q. rises suddenly Sancho trembles.
Don Q.

Oh Fire, and Furies! Oh shame to Arms and Honour.

Sancho,

Nay then, the Storm comes with a Vengeance: fire, fire; murder, murder.

Don Q.

Am I a Knight, and hear this hellish Slander.—Awake, Don Quixote, thou sleep'st, awake I say—Hark'e, dost hear me? Madman, Fool, or Devil, if thou hereafter darest but move thy Lips against sweet Dulcinea, or but so much as name that cursed Po­thecary with Peerless Dulcinea, or think of any of his Tools, or Imple­ments—Storax, or Savine, get thee each Day a Heart, for I will be as cruel in the tearing it, as is that abhorr'd Tongue, that slanderous Viper, in poysoning the Fame of Radiant Dulcinea.

Here Card. throws the Wine in's Face suddenly.
Sancho.

So, there's the first Gun, the Broad-side's coming, here will be devilish work between the Two Madmen presently.

Carden.

The Rack's a foolish Torture, Phallaris

Carden falls into his mad Fit.

Bull, or the Iron Wheel of witty Dionysius, that were proper for him—Hah! What art thou! the Traitor Fernan­do! And thou art his Catamite, his Pimp, art thou?

To Sancho.
Sancho.

Not I, Sir; I'm none of his Pimp not I. Would I were a Mouse for Two Minutes, so I had but e'er a Hole to creep into.

Carden.
[Page]

Oh, that I now had Thirty Rows of Teeth, or were an Eagle with an Hundred pair of Claws, that I might tear and eat this Traitor, Traitor.

Falls upon Don Q. and Sancho, throws 'em down, beats and kicks 'em, and then Ex.
Don Q.

Oh, Dulcinea del Toboso, pardon my Negligence, I beseech thee; I had forgot to invoke thy Influence when first I rose this Morning, and see what comes on't:—is the Madman gone, Sancho.

Sancho.

Yes, yes, and wonderfully recovered; you have been as good as your Word, you have cur'd him to a Miracle. Whether he can spout Politicks like a Statesman, or Law like a Judge, I know not; but he can kick and cuff like a Devil, that I'm sure of.

Weeps.
Don Q.

A Plague of his mad Pate, the fit was a little too far gone upon him.

Sancho.

A Plague of Radiant Dulcinea, I say, would the 'Pothecary had poyson'd her; or would her Nurse—had drown'd her—in her Cra­dle—with a Water of her own [...]making—rather than my Bones had been concern'd about her, or her Bastard either.—But come, better late than never, I'm resolv'd now to retire in time from this High­way to Battoons and Bruises, and visit my Wife and Children a­gen, whilst I can make shift to crawl to 'em; for to that Scantity of Travelling my Squireship has brought me.

Sancho speaks sobbing.
Don Q.

Wilt thou then leave me, Sancho?

Sancho.

Leave ye? ay, and 'tis high time, I think, Sir: 'Tis an old Saying, The Ant had Wings to do her hurt: Farewell Knight-Errantry i'faith: And to begin to get rid on't, there Sir—there's the dudgeon Dagger you gave me, the Rust upon't has kept it warm and quiet; Besides I never shew'd it the Sun to tan it, not I: There's the Murrion too, that did Service at the Siege of Golletta; this Jer­kin likewise, that has defyed all Weathers; pray give 'em your next Squire, together with some hard Crusts here to keep his Teeth going, least he forget to use 'em: These, I think, are the main part of my Equipage, and so part fair.

Don Q.

'Tis very well.

Sancho.

As for the Government of the Island you promised me, e'en let that hang a drying a little, for some more able Earl than I to manage, for I'm satisfied now, That the Hen lays as well upon one Egg as upon many; and several come for Wool that return shorn; so much thou'rt worth as thou hast, and so much thou hast as thou'rt worth. I know you don't like my Proverbs, but now 'tis as broad as long, Better Play a Card too much than too little; a good Pay-master needs no Surety: And my Grannum us'd to say, The Leggs carry the Belly, and not the Belly the Leggs; and there's an end on't.

Don Q.

Oh Pox! Nay go on, go on, thread 'em, string 'em, away with 'em, take thy Belly full of Proverbs at parting however, but remember this when I am an Emperour, Dogbolt

Sancho.
[Page 47]

An Emperour, ah! Gad save your hot head, you had bet­ter go home along [...]ith me, and look to your Ploughmen.

Don Q.

'Tis very well, Clodpole.

Enter Nicholas, disguised with a long White Beard.
Nicho.

Know thou most doug [...]ty and renown'd Knight-Errant, that I am call'd the Squire of the White-Beard, Servant to the migh­ty Princess Micomicona, Queen of the great Kingdom of Micomicon in AEthiopia, who, by the Fame of thy most noble Deeds, has Tra­vel'd from her Country to this Place, to beg a Boon of thee; and now, behind you Bush she stands on foot, and begs admittance to thy Lordly Presence.

Bowing.
Don Q.

Friend, go and tell the Queen, Don Quixote's at her Ser­vice, and will attend her here—hum, hum,

looking scornfully on Sancho.
Sancho.

How's this? A great Queen come from her Country to beg a Boon of him; 'sbud, if this Squire of the Beard should speak Truth now, I have made a fine business on't. Zookers, here she comes as fair as a Church Saint, as bright as a Cherubin; 'sdheartli­kins, I ne'er saw such a Creature in my Life.

Enter Don Fernando leading Dorothea as the Princess Micomicona, with a Retinue of Servants Drest after the Moorish Fashion.
She Kneels.
Don Q.

By the Honour of Knighthood, Madam, 'tis too much, your Greatness must not kneel to your unworthy Servant; nay, I beseech your Majesty.

Doroth.

Thrice Valiant Knight, thou flower of Chivalry, Soul of true Lovers, and quintessence of Courtesie, I've sworn to l [...]ve for ever in this Posture, and make my bended Knees one piece with the Earth, unless you grant me the Request I come for.

Don Q.

Madam, I'll do't whate'er it be, therefore pray rise, let me but know what Miscreant has wrong'd ye, this powerful Arm shall Thunder in your Quarrel more swift than the hot Bolts that split the Clouds.

Don Fern.

I see, most Renowned Sir, loud Fame has done you Ju­stice in sounding through the World your Courtesie.

Doroth.

Assur'd of this, I now may rise with Comfort.

Rises.
Enter Perez.
Perez.

All Honour to the blazing Comet of Knight-Errantry, [...]he Rose and Tulip of Fame and [...]ortitude, my Noble Country-man Don Quixote de la Mancha, the Report of this great Queen's coming being spread already through our Neighbourhood, so far increas'd my Joy and Wonder, that I could not contain my self from seeking [...]ou out and being an E [...]e witness.

Sancho.
[Page]

Ay 'tis so, I am utterly undone, a most miserable Rogue; stay, is there no way to Rigg my self without his taking notice.

Sancho steals on his things again.
Don Q.

I am glad to see your Reverence well, good Mr. Curate, and would entertain ye longer, but that I thirst to receive the Queen's Commands.

Perez.

The Trick takes rarely I see.

Aside.
Don Fern.

As we could wish, but how thrives our Affair, have my Servants found Cardenio.

Perez.

Just as I came hither, as he was lying fast asleep under a Cork-Tree, he was very unruly at first, he being overpower'd by Numbers, they soon bound him, and carried him to the Inn you order'd.

Den Fern.

And has Lucinda seen him.

Perez.

Not yet, I have advis'd the contrary, till he has taken the Medicine the Doctor order'd, and slept upon't.

Don Fern.

'Tis well; in the morning I my self will be his Doctor; at present let's mind the Game on foot.

Dorth.

To be brief then, brave Sir: In AEthiopia, where the Sun sheds his swarthy Influence, making my Natives all of Sable hew, as I had bin, had not the skill in Charms of my kind Father, wise Finacrio, hindred it in those Dominions: You must know, I'm call'd—I'm call'd—Most Generous Knight:—I say I'm call'd— O Heavens! the memory of my Griefs hinders my very Speech! What, am I call'd quickly, 'dslife I've forgot?

To Perez aside.
Perez.

The Princess Micomicona!

Doroth.

I'm call'd, the Princess Micomicona, so nam'd from the Kingdom of Micomicon, late left me by my Father.

Sancho.

How Proud he looks already? There's some great Ho­nour coming to him, I see't in's Face:—O Dog, Dog Sancho! don't you deserve to be Hang'd?

aside.
Doroth.

The good old King knew by his Skill in Magick, what would befall me after he was dead, how Pandafilando of the Dusky Sight, a horrid Brutal and mis-shapen Giant, should treat of Marri­age with me, which refus'd, should then make War, and drive me from my Kingdom, to relieve me from which distress, he told me at his death that I must travel into Spain, where I should hap­pily meet with a Knight-Errant, the honour of his Country, and that Order, the Valour of whose Arms should kill the Giant, and presently restore me to my Kingdom; which Knight must be your self, to whom (my Father has commanded me) after the Giant's Death, if you think fitting, to give my self in Marriage, and make you Monarch of Micomicon.

Don Q.

Oh Madam, your Father was too gracious, — what think you now, Hog-grubber, is Knight Errantry worth chawing, hah? — Which had I better do now, be an Emperor, or go [Page 49] home and mind the Ploughmen, umph, Jolthead?

To Sancho.
Sancho.

Ah, dear Sir, consider no man is born wise; a Bishop is no more than another Man without Grace, and good Breeding. [...], I [...]fess my self a Booby, Sir, a fearful Scoundrel: There's [...], I [...]eech ye, Sir, break it across, or if you please to ho­nou [...] [...] a Dozen or two of Kicks, Sir, I shall think my self [...], so you disswade your anger, and forgive me.

[...].

Her Majesty I hope remembers likewise that the wise King to reward my Fidelity when this good Knight had slain Pandafilan­do, gave charge to make her Suit to him, that I might be an Earl or Governour of some Island.

Sancho.

You an Earl! hark'e Friend, Slow Fire makes sweet Malt. There may be more than one Egg in a Hen-Roost. If you meddle with my Mouth I shall snap at your Fingers; d'e see, there­fore look to your self; what a Plague, all is not got by wearing of long Beards.

Don Q.

No, no, Friend, you know you must go visit your Wife and Children.

Sancho.

Ah Sir, if you mention that, you slay me, — you flea me alive. Alass, Sir, I dare as well hang my self as go home with­out my Government; my Wife, and the young Cockatrice my Daughter, now I have put this plaguy Countess-ship into her Head, will worry me if I fail her.

Don Q.

Well, Vermin, for some good service past, in consideration too of some late Drubbings, I will once more take thee into Grace; but if again I catch thee Grumbling, thou art no more my Squire; there are others would be Earls too, you see, Sancho.

Sancho.

What, that dry old Kex? 'Gad I'd have throtled him with his own Whiskers if he had said Three Words more.— But come, 'tis well enough now; and since we are reconcil'd, as soon as ever you marry that delicate fine Queen there,—my Island will be within an Inch of me in a twinckling.

Nicho.

I shall laugh out. I'm not able to hold.

Aside.
Perez.

Was ever Fool so transported!

Aside.
Fern.

Hush; look Grave; his Master turns this way.

Aside.
Doroth.

You have rais'd me from the lowest Vale of Sorrow, to the highest Mountain, Sir, of Humane Happiness: I'm all Air me­thinks. Let Musick sound there; and let my menial Slaves begin a Dance to entertain this wonder of Knight-Errantry.

Dance here.
Sancho.

This will I make my Black Subjects do every Morning to divert me.— I'll sing a Song that was made at Teresa's and my Wedding, that her Majesty may know my Parts.

Sancho Sings a Song, and then Dances ridiculously.
[Page 50]
SONG.
TWas early one Morning, the Cock had just crow'd:
Sing hey ding, hoe ding, langtridown derry;
My Holyday Cloathes on, and Face newly mow'd,
With a hey down, hoe down, drink up your brown Berry.
The Sky was all painted, no Scarlet so Red,
For the Sun was just then getting out of his Bed,
When Teresa and I went to Church to be sped,
Wi [...]h a hey ding, hoe ding, shall I come to Wooe thee;
Hey ding, hoe ding, will ye buckle to me,
Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, derry, derry, derry ding, ding,
ding, ding, ding, hey langtudown derry.
II.
Her Face was as fair as if't had been in Print;
Sing hey ding, &c.
And her small Ferret Eyes did lovingly Squint,
With a hey down, &c.
Yet her Mouth had been damag'd with Comfit's and Plumbs,
And her Teeth that were useless for biting her Thumbs,
Had late, like ill Tenants, forsaken her Gums,
With a hey ding, hoe ding, &c.
III.
But when Night came on, and we both were a Bed;
Sing hey ding, &c.
Such strange things were done, there's no more to be said;
With a hey down, &c.
Next Morning her Head ran of mending her Gown;
And mine was plagu'd, how to pay Piper a Crown,
And so we rose up, the same Fools we lay down,
With a hey ding, hoe ding, &c.
Doroth.

This is unexpected.

Don Q

My Squire, Madam,— honest and trusty, but no great Head piece.

Doroth.

He has performed to a miracle, and I resolve to do him grace.

Kisses her Hand.
Sancho.

Now spawn of old Father Time, let me see your Beard do as much.

Nicho.

Her Majesty values me more for my Head than my Heels, Skip-Jack.

Don Fern.

Madam, you must needs have heard of the Renown­ed Sancho Panca; his Fame sounds almost as loudly as Don Quixote's; this is the famous Squire, Madam,

[Page 51]
That by his Master's side defies Battoons and Clubs,
Whose Back and Sides, both Black and Blue now, wear the honour'd Drubs.
Sancho.

That I do by my Faith, Madam; which, if your Ma­jesty will give me leave to strip, you shall see if you please.

Doroth.

I know him now, he's just the very Person my Father once described, who I also remember was sorry for a Misfortune which he knew by his Art had happen'd to him, which is, that Sancho's married, to whom I else had been obliged to give one of my Maids of Honour.

Sancho.

Why then, the Devil take all Ill Luck; now I see that old Saw is true that says, Every Man once in his Life will find a minute to curse his Marriage. If I had not bin yoak'd now to my Blouze at home, a Pox take her, I might have had a May Lady, a Virga tacta, with a Head as gawdy as a Tulip, and a shape as slender: 'Odzookes, I've no patience to think on't; I'll go and hire some Rat-Catcher to anoint the Cups and Dishes at home: Who the Devil would lose Preferment for the sake of Two-Penny-worth of Ratsbane?

Perez.

In troth, my good Friend and Neighbour, honest Sancho, I am Sorry to hear this; for as I remember, 'twas my luck to give Te­resa and you the Blessing.

Sancho.

A Plague on your Blessing; I perceive I shall have occa­sion to wish you hang'd for your Blessing—Good finisher of Forni­cation, good Conjunction Copulative.

Nicho.

The profane Wretch defame's the Holy Ordinance of Marriage, and ought to be presented to the Inquisition.

Perez.

Speak reverently of our Function, Sancho, or I'll Excom­municate you the Church.

Sancho.

I care not; I should lose nothing by it if you should, but my Nap in an Afternoon.

Doroth.

Is your Valour, Sir, at leisure to begin the Journey towards the Giant?

Don Q.

Madam, I am. Sancho, a word with thee▪ I've bin con­sidering on this Adventure, and must confess, tho' I may be an Emperor, my Head runs more on Honours Ecclesiastical; a Pope, methinks, or Cardinal; I'm for some grave and solid Dignity that tends towards Religion.

San [...]ho.

Religion! Oh Gadzooks, Sir, never mind it; take care of being Priest-ridden, good Sir, whatever you do, unless you have a mind to lose all your Dominions assoon as you come to 'em.

Don Q.

I must reflect upon't. Now Madam, please your Maje­sty to set forward.

Lead me where e'er you please; 'tis still my duty
To right a Ladies wrongs, and fight for Fame and Beauty.
Don Fern.

Long live the Illustrious and Incomparable Knight, [Page 52] Don Quixote de la Mancha.

Exit Don Quixote, leading Doro­thea, and Fernando following.
Perez.

How I admire his Fortitude and Vertue! — Well Neigh­bour, what' [...] your business.

Perez going out, Sancho stops him.
Sancho.

Why, look'ee Neighbour, tho' I wisht you hang'd just now, 'twas only in my Passion, d'e see,—and never the sooner for a hasty Word—you know; and therefore because I know you can forget and forgive, I'll make bold to desire a Favour of you.

Perez.

Well Neighbour, tho' you were a little hard upon the Priest-hood; yet because I know 'twas done without any inten­tion of harm, I'll pass it by for once; come, what is't?

Sancho.

Why, you must know that my Master, Don Quixote, is just now breeding a new Maggot in his Pate, not to be an Em­peror, but a Pope, or a Cardinal: And if so, my Preferment's gone agen, for I am wholly unfit for any (what d'e call it) Ecclastical Dignity, because I am a married Man; and for me to be every foot hunting for Dispensations to enjoy Church-Livings, were to pound a Snow-ball in a Mortar, with design to make Pow­der on't; therefore I would desire you as his Friend, to advise him to be an Emperor by all means, that I may have an Office proper; for to say the truth, I may chance to make an Angel of a Gover­nour, but I shall be a very Devil of a Church-man.

Nicho.

How's this? Have I caught thee a second time vilifying the Church? nay now the Inquisition shall know it, and the Maid of Honour be mine for my good service: I'll about it instantly; you are a precious Rogue indeed.

Sancho.

Will ye so, ye old Bearded Goat? I'll have a Tuft on you first 'ifaith; I'll send ye mark'd to the Inquisition however. How now! What a Plague, does he shed his Beard

Sancho goes to take him by the Beard, and pulls it off.

as Snakes do their Skins? Hey day, who the Devil have we here? our merry Neighbour and Towns­man Mr. Nicholas the Barber?

Nicho.

The Planets have decreed it — Sword,

Stares as if mad.

Fire, Ruin, Plague and Desolation. Woe be to Spain! the fatal Beard is off.

Exit Nicho.
Perez.

I must second the Barber, —or this Accident will— discover us—

Aside.

The great Eclipse is coming; Dooms-day too is near. Woe, Woe to Spain! the fatal Beard is off.

Exit Perez.
Sancho.

The Beard is off indeed, and as cleverly as the wearer himself could have shaved it: But what this is to Spain, and E­clipses, and Dooms-day, there I am puzl'd again. The Beard has discovered the Barber, and if the Barber don't discover the Trick of the I [...]hanted Beard, I shall begin to fear there's some Dog trick in [...]e business; I knew him for an arch Rogue when he was [Page 53] at home, and therefore doubt him the more now; 'Gad I must after him and know the Truth—But stay, first let's take a Dram of Consideration, Friend Sancho—Let me see—

The Fortunes of this Day are worth repeating▪
My Mornings Breakfast was a lusty beating;
My Nooning time, more lucky tho' by far,
Cramm'd then with hopes to be a Governour.
But now, this Evening Whim has chang'd it so,
That what I am, Plague take me if I know;
Whether an Earl, fit to wear Pearl and Ruby,
Or Sancho, as I was—a Country Booby.
Exit.
The End of the Fourth Act.

ACT V.

SCENE I. The Ordinary

Enter Fernando and Lucinda.
Fernand.

HE's dress'd, and ready to come out; the Doctor tells me too his Sence is perfectly recovered, the Phrensie being only continued by Colds and ill Dyet, the Medicine has ta­ken effect, which, assisted by his gentle Sleeps, have quite restor'd him.

Lucind.

The Sorrow and Distresses he has suffer'd, have chang'd him so, I fear he has forgot me.

Fernand.

Never fear it, Madam—Here he comes, pray step in there till I am ready for ye.

Exit Lucinda.
Enter Cardenio new dress'd.
Carden.

My Lord, it seems I stand indebted to ye for Courtesies re­lating to my Health of Brain and Body, but my wounded Soul, in its most dear and tender part, my Love, stabb'd by your Falshood and unnatural Cruelty, stands yet unsuccour'd, that is, unreveng'd; the [...]efore as I must thank ye for the one, my Sword for th' other de­mands Satisfaction.

Cardenio draws.
Fernand.
[Page]

Hold, pause a little: The Sacred Blood of Friends is of more value than to be shed rashly without debate or reasoning. What's your Quarrel to me?

[...]arden.

Oh, bring me not to my mad fit agen, from whence I'm just reliev'd, by such a cursed Repetition. Lucinda! think on Lu­ [...]inda.

Fernand.

Well, I'll speak the rest, I know I took her from thee.

Carden.

And canst thou hope to live?

Offers to fight.
Fernand.

Hold yet, and hear me speak: 'Twas my resistless Love, not I, betray'd thee; the God of Amity oppos'd in vain; all the soft Bonds of our endearing Friendship, were scorch'd and burnt, by her bright Eyes, to Ashes.

Carden.

I'll hear no more; defend thy self, or die.

Offers agen.
Fernand.

I will not fight with thee. Is this obscure Cottage a pro­per Stage to drink the Blood of Friends? No, I'll reserve it for some Amphitheatre, that when we play the Prize for fatal Beauty, no less than Thousands may admire the Action.

Carden.

Away thou Trifler, I am loth to call thee Coward.

Fernand.

I believe thee, and know thou canst not do it with a safe Conscience; for I, too often in our days of Friendship, have proved my self so contrary, that well thou knowest I fear thee not, Cardenio; no, the reason why I refuse, is—I have wrong'd thee; and by my good Will, I would have my Blood be the last means of giving Satisfacti­on; therefore I charge thee first mark my Proposals: I took a Lady from thee—Well, to atone it, here is one in Exchange, whom if you use ill, or with undecent Obstinacy slight, we then must fight in­deed.

Brings in Lucinda veil'd.
Carden.

And so we must, Sir; your Women shall not be your Buck­lers long.—Hah!—This is a Face indeed that my Heart bows to, whose Eyes, tho guilty, are too fierce for mine.

She unveils and em­braces him.
Lucind.

My dear Cardenio, I am thine for ever; cheer thy sad Looks, and smile with Joy upon me; for Fate shall never, never part us more.

Carden.

Oh thou sweet Vision, get thee from my sight, for I must love thee, tho' I know thee false.

Lucind.

By Heaven I am as true as Truth it self; the Letter thou receiv'st, was not of mine, but of Don Fernand's counterfeiting.

Carden.

Hah! What is't I hear! Don Fernand's counterfeiting?

Fernand.

I must confess it was, Sir; for which I ask your Pardon; my headlong, rash, and most ungovern'd Passion, check'd at no Crime, that would indulge my Wishes: This caus'd her flight into a Nunne­ry, from whence I forced her, and had no doubt proceeded, had not my Guardian Angel, my dear Doro [...]hea, prov'd my good Genius to prevent my Mischief.

[Page 55] Enter Dorothea.
Carden.

Oh Heaven! is this Dorothea!

Luci [...]d.

Th [...] very same, Sir.

Fernand.

Let this atone then for my rash Offence, that I surrender back this precious Jewel, bright and unsullied; and for my Sin in seeking to corrupt her, with Shame and sorrow once more beg your Pardon.

Carden.

My Lord, you've done me Justice, and I thank ye. Oh my sweet Life! I shall grow wild with Joy, such vast content crowds in, I cannot bear it. Oh, Madam! How shall I repay your Good­ness too?

To Dorothea.
Doroth.

Let me be happy in the re-uniting my Lord and you, I then am overpaid.

Carden.

Let this declare my willingness, I have forgot what's past.

Fernand.

And this mine—we will be Friends for ever.

They embrace.
Enter Perez, and Nicholas.
Carden.

Oh, my honest and worthy Friend, I am thy Debtor too.

Perez.

My Care, Sir, was my Duty, and I'm heartily glad to see my Diligence so well succeed. And now if you please to change the Scene, and give your selves a little Diversion, there's Matter work­ing within, will occasion it I'm sure.

Doroth.

Ha, ha, ha, ha,—what, Sancho has told his Master, I sup­pose, the Accident of the Beard?

Nicho.

Yes, and in the horriblest fright you ever knew; he is now with him; the Rogue begins to stumble upon our contrivance of the Princess too, Madam; so that we must set more Wheels a-going.

Fernand.

But 'prithee how wilt thou tope upon him now, for he must needs know thee now thy Face is bare?

Perez.

We'll make him believe that all things are governed by In­chantment. The Inn-keeper has provided half a dozen merry Fel­lows, with Magicians and Devils Vizards, such as are used in Carnaval time, with other rare Anticks, and all to assist in the Frolick. He also has a rare Contrivance to carry him off, which is, a great wood­den Cage, in which Two Eagles formerly were kept; the use of it, if you please to be present, you'll see with Satisfaction; and if you can laugh, you'll have cause I warrant you.

Nicho.

Your Lordship must take no notice that you know me, [...]t look and speak as if you ne'er had seen me.

Fern.

I'll warrant thee, my merry Face-Smoother, I'll humour the Jest.

Doroth.

And to confound Sancho the more, I'll go to his Master presently, and press him to go on with his Journey towards the Giant.

Perez.
[Page 56]

I'll wait on ye, and second what you say.

Nich.

And then come I inchanted.

Lucind.

We must be Spectators of the Sport too, one way or other.

Carden.

Oh, that may be easily done; and to help forward with the Jest, I'll go and act the part of an Enchanter, and assist in the Song. I long, methinks, to see this strange Knight-Errant, for I remember him not; tho' once in my Distress, I'm told I met him to his cost.

Fernand.

Ha, ha, ha,—I heard indeed you swing'd him once con­foundedly. But come, 'prithee, let's make haste to him, and see this rare performance of Inchantment.

Doroth.

[...]Tis time we were there. Come Unkle, you are to second me.

Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Town with the Inn.

Enter Don Quixote and Sancho with the Beard.
Don Q.

THou tell'st me Wonders, Sancho.

Sancho.

Strange, and true, Sir—There's the Beard, and within is the Barber; I am sure these Eyes saw him; and I think I know his sniveling, Sheep-stealing Phiz too well to be mista­ken in him.

Don Q.

I am not a Jot the more of thy Opinion because thou say'st thou hast seen him; for, Sancho, I am satisfied thou can'st not see.

Sancho.

Not see!—

Don Q.

No, thy Sense is often blind—thy Reason always; be­sides a Thousand strange Defects brood in thee to clog thy Un­derstanding.

Sancho.

Very good: Well, will you do me the Favour to let me feel then, if I can't see? Will you let me be sensible of the Dash in the Chops, that damn'd Squire of the Horse-Tail gave me before I unbearded him; I hope I may with some Assurance say I felt that, mayn't I?

Don Q.

Why, according to the Stoical Philosopher—no.

Sancho.

No? 'Gadsbud, what a strange kind of a Creature am I then, that can neither feel nor see! But whatever you say of my Understanding, I'm sure I know this, That a Man's Life is a Winters Day, and a Winters way: A Cudgel that bruizes, is a thing that contuses ▪ I have a sore place here in my Shoulder, occasion'd by a Stone from one of the Galley Slaves, shall make me believe I can feel, whate­ver your damn'd Stockick or Philosopher, with a Pox to him, says to the contrary.

Don Q.
[Page 57]

I tell thee, Clod-pate, there is no certainty in Nature; so that if thy Nose were battered flat with a Smith's Hammer, or thy Head open'd with a Church-key, so that one might see thy Brain [...], thou ought'st not unlearnedly to say, thy Head is really broke, but that thou supposest it to be so.

Sancho.

Ah, the Devil take your Suppose, will you make me mad? Won't you let me feel I am beaten, when the Cudgel is upon me? nor see that the sham Squire yonder, is that cunning Rogue, Nicholas the Barber of our Town, that comes to put a Trick upon ye? and that the Beard you hold in your Hand there is a White Horse Tail ty'd on to play his Prank in?

Don Q.

Why 'Faith as to the Beard, it may seem to thee a Horse Tail indeed, as I confess it does to me; but 'tis Obstinacy to be po­sitive in't, because thou know'st too well how these Inchanters per­secute me.

Sancho.

Ah plague, nay, if that Whim possess your Brain agen, you will find a number of Inchantments within yonder: There's your Lady Misrisoma, what a Devil d'e call her, is as much a King's Daughter too, as I am a Knight of the Garter, or Golden Fleece; the Giant Dandipratdando may dance a Jig in her Dominions as long as he pleases, for all your Prowess: for Curiosity tempting me to peep through the Key-hole of a Door this Morning, who should I see, but your chaste delicate Misrisoma, sitting in the Lap of the young Rampant Spanish Don that came with her, and clinging as close as two Faces in a Medal.

Don Q.

How's this! — O excommunicated Rascal, dar'st thou affront the Queen?

Sancho.

Queen! 'Oons, what Queen? 'tis a hopeful Queen that will let one of her Subjects ruffle her like a Bulker in a Bawdy-house. 'Sbud, I saw him brush his Whiskers upon her Face twenty times one after another.

Don Q.

Oh slanderous Villain, thou hast liv'd too long.

Beats him.
Sancho.

Oh, good Sir, Mercy, Mercy, I may be mistaken—I do but suppose I saw all this—I do but suppose it, Sir.

Don Q.

Suppose this then too, Rascal—to confirm ye.

Beats him.
Enter Dorothea.
Doroth.

Hold thy dead-doing Hand, most Noble Errant: Wonder of Wonders! What Empire's revolution, or other accident of vast and mighty moment, could raise the Anger of the great Don Quixote?

Don Q.

That Rat, that Vermin there, that but for the Reverence I bear to your Majesty's Person, my Foot should tread into his pri­mitive Clod, amongst his fellow Worms that there inhabit: Would you believe it, Madam? the Blasphemous Varlet had the Impudence to tell me you were no Queen! And that you were as familiar with [Page] the Master of your Ceremonies, as if he had been privy to your In­tellect, and had got ye an Heir to the Kingdom of Micomicon.

Doroth.

Oh! I forgive him freely; his Error, no doubt, is caus'd by some Illusion, that often happens in my Affairs: Therefore, Noble Sir, let's go with our best speed t' attack the Giant; when he is dead all these Chimera's vanish.

Don Q.

Desponding Hang dog, what say you to this now? Is she a Queen, or no?

Sancho.

Why? as well as a beaten Governour can give his judg­ment, I do suppose she is.

Enter Perez and Nicholas.
Perez.

Miracles! Miracles! Bold Knight, stand on thy Guard; for here's a wonderful Adventure coming; the Inn's all in Confusion; and by the several Transformations there, we find the Inchanters are in search for thee: My Hostess within Mews like a Cat, and Maritor­nes answers like a Screech Owl; two bawling Carriers are turn'd in­to He-Asses, and Bray incessantly; and the good Reverend Squire here to this Sage Princess, seems in my Eyes, chang'd like to our Town Barber.

Don Q.

Oh Power of strong Inchantment! Is this possible? But that I know how I am persecuted, I should have sworn this was my very Neighbour, that oft with Razor-keen and Lathering Washball, mow'd the rough Stubble from my dented Chin, and snapp'd his Fingers with acute Agility.

Doroth.

This cannot be my Squire, I know him not.

Sancho.

Hah—ah—

Sancho grins and shakes his head.
Nichol.

I am thy Squire, O Queen, but now Inchanted by the Sage Merlin, who is coming hither for endeavouring to deprive great San­cho Pancha of the Wife the Fates allot him, the Maid of Honour; for in short time the Destinies so order, Teresa shall bequeath to Death her Beauties, and he survive with the fair Rumpibella.

Don Q.

D'e hear this, Bacon-face? Are not you a damn'd despon­ding Son of a Whore, hah? What can you say now?

Sancho.

Why, I say, good News and a Bag-pudding, is better than ill with nothing to Dinner: If Mistress Rump, what d'e call her, fall to my lot by your means, you shall suppose me another drubbing as soon as you please; and as for Teresa's Beauty, let her bequeath it to the Devil, or where she pleases: All Shooes fit not all Feet; Sancho shall bear the loss of that well enough.

Enter Don Fernando and Lucinda.
Fernando.

Prodigy on Prodigy! Stand forth, thou most Renowned, for an Adventure's coming hither to thee, has struck us blind with gazing: A Golden Chariot drawn by fiery Horses, descended from [Page 59] the Sky, and out of which came forth an Aged Man with a Ma­jestick form.

Lucind.

He comes, he comes; O how I tremble!

Don Q.

Madam, dismiss your fear; whilst I am by ye, you are safe as in a Sanctuary.

Enter Vincente disguis'd like Merlin.
Vincent.

To thee, O Knight of the Ill-favour'd Face, from my low Cell near hot Vesuvio's Mount, where our black Spirits with perpetual labour, surrounded with blue Flames and sulphurous Smoak, with horrid silence, forge our Magick-Spells; I, the Sage Merlin, come, sent by the Fates, to hinder for a time, thy present Enterprize: The Queen must Patience have, and Pandafilando revel and range within her large Dominions, till it shall come, that the Manchegan Lyon and the Tobosian Dove are joyn'd in Wedlock; for so 'tis fix'd, spite of Trinacrio and his Pristine Charms: Therefore, all you my Partners in the secret, dark and mysterious Art of Necromancy, appear, and with a Charm as strong as Destiny, seize on the most Illustrious Knight and Squire, and in the Inchanted Chariot bear 'em hence, to th' place the Fates have ordered.

Dreadful sounds of Musick heard.
Enter two Women representing Urganda and Melissa, two Enchantresses, led by Montesmo, another Inchanter.
They seize Don Quixote and Sancho Pancha.
Don Q.

I feel the Charm already; my Blood freezes, and my E­nervate Arms, inur'd to Battel, grow weak and spiritless.

Sancho.

What d'e feel? 'sbud, Sir, you only fansie so; for my part I feel nothing, not I, only my Fingers itch to be battering that old Fellow; who for all his disguise there, is as like mine Host of that plaguy Inn, where I was tossed in a Blanket [...]'other day, as one Thumb is like another: Ay, and now I look nearer him, 'tis he, Sir, 'tis he:—A Trick, a Trick, 'Gadzooks, I know him.

Don Q.

Peace, sordid Wretch.

Nichol.

Oh Impudent Scoundrel! Darest thou affront the Great Merlin, that design'd so well for thee.

The Inchantresses seize him, he struggles to get loose.
Fernand.

See, Merlin frowns; woe, woe be to thee, Sancho!

Doroth.

I fear we shall be punish'd for his sake.

Lucind.

Oh, naughty Sancho, hast thou no sense of fear, when thou seest the very. Off-spring of the Devil before thy Eyes? I shall laugh out; I am scarce able to contain— Lord, how the Fools look!

Aside to Lucinda.
Musick sounds in Recitative, then an Inchanter and two Inchantresses, sing in parts this Song.
[Page 60]
SONG.
Montesmo
WIth this, this sacred charming Wand,
I can Heaven and Earth command.
Hush all ye Winds that curle the angry Sea,
And make the rowling Waves obey.
Urganda.
I from the Clouds can conjure down the Rain,
And make it Deluge once again.
Melissa.
I when I please make Nature smile as gay,
As at first she did on her Creation Day.
Groves with eternal sweets shall fragrant grow,
And make a true Elyzium here below.
Chorus.
Groves with Eternal sweets shall fragrant grow,
And make a true Elyzium here below.
Melissa.
I can give Beauty, make the aged young,
And Love's dear momentary Rapture long.
Urgand.
Nature restore, and Life, when spent, renew;
All this by Art can great Urganda do.
Why then will Mortals dare
To urge a Fate, and Iustice so severe?
See there a Wretch in's own Opinion Wise,
Laughs at our Charms, and mocks our Mysteries.
Melissa.
I've a little Spirit yonder,
Where the Clouds do part asunder,
Lies basking his Limbs
In the warm Sun-Beams,
Shall his Soul from his Body plunder.
Urganda.
Speak shall it be so? No,
That Fate's too high; I'll give him one more low.
Melissa.
Let it be so, &c.
Appear, ye fat Fiends that in Limbo do groan,
That were, when in Flesh, the same Souls as his own.
You that always in Lucifer's Kitchen reside,
'Mongst Sea Coal, and Kettles, and Grease newly try'd:
That pamper'd each day with a Garbidge of Souls,
Broil Rashers of Fools for a Breakfast on Coals.
These Mortals from hence to convey try your skill;
Thus Fates and our Magical Orders fulfill.
Chorus.
Appear, ye fat Fiends that in Limbo do groan,
That were, when in Flesh, the same Souls as his own.
You that always in Lucifer's Kitchen reside,
'Monst Sea-Coal, and Kettles, and Grease newly try'd:
[Page 61]That pamper'd each day with a Garbidge of Souls,
Broil Rashers of Fools for a Breakfast on Coals.
These Mortals from hence to convey try your skill;
Thus Fates and our Magical Order fulfill.
Then enter Furies bearing a great Cage, into which they put Don Quixote. Sancho struggles to get off; the Inchantresses wave their Wands, and then there is an Antick Dance of Spirits to fright Sancho, who at last drive him into the Cage by Don Quixote.
Vincent.
You Mortals that have view'd our Magick Skill,
As you would 'scape our dreadful Charms, be still:
Whilst we our secret Consultations make,
None but th' Inchanted must have leave to speak:
For Sancho's Fault, you all had felt his Case,
Had you not been reliev'd by Merlin's Grace.
Magicians go aside and Consult.
Don Q.

You must be Sawcy, with a Pox t'ye, and now see what comes on't: Had not Merlin been Gracious, the Queen and all this Company had been Inchanted through your In­solence; you see how narrowly they have 'scap'd.

Sancho.

I see! 'sbud, why, don't you say I can see nothing? I sup­pose I am in a Cage now, coop'd up like a green Goose with your wise Worship: But to say I see this were Madness, unless I resolve to have my Bones broke.

Don Q.

A Cage! Oh blind Stupidity! Now will I referr my self to any thing that's Wise, to know if thou dost not deserve to have thy Bones broke, to call th' Inchanted Chariot here a Cage?

Sancho.

Oh!—so then, this is a Chariot, is it?

Don Q.

Yes, Rascal, what else can it be? did not the great Merlin call it so?

Sancho.

Oh, very good— Nay, nay, I suppose it.

Shaking his head at Don Q.
Don Q.

'Tis something odd, I confess: The Knights of old that suffer'd on these occasions, were carried through the Air in some strange Cloud, or mounted on a flying Hippogryphis:— But perhaps the Method's chang'd.

Sancho.

'Tis chang'd to a very pretty Method, truly:—If any one would see a Raree-Show, let him come hither: Here's the Emperor and the Governour Cheek by Jole, like two Paraguites hung up in a Hall Window: Lord, if we were in England now, what a World of Fools Six-pences we should get for a sight of us: A Groat to see the Emperor, and Two-pence the Earl; 'Oons we should put down all the Holiday Monsters clearly.

Don Q.

Very well, Dogbolt; you are Witty agen, are ye? and I suppose, know the Privilege of the place you are in.

Sancho.

The narrowness of the place I'm in, I suppose I do; 'tis in vain to be angry here, Sir, here's no room for drubbing.

Don Q.

No, I forgive thee, because I perceive the Inchantment works upon thee; besides the Fable says, That in the Toyl, once the [Page] Wolf and the Sheep were Friends: Then I know thou art nettled too about the delay of thy Preferment; which troth, as things stand, I must needs say I cannot now prefix a time to.

Sanch.

Why troth I as faithfully believe ye.

Don Q.

What grieves me most, is to see the trouble the Queen is in yonder: But, Madam, I beseech ye don't despair, these Accidents are common to Knights Errant; but 'tis only for a time, for I shall soon be free agen to aid ye—till when, confirm your hopes in my past promise—She thanks me with a Sign; but the rest, that by thy Fault are now deprived of Speech, by their Actions, Sancho, seem to threaten thee.

Sancho.

Why, let 'em threaten; if they will help me out of my Inchanted Castle here, I'll give 'em leave to take their Revenge: But a pox on my ill breeding and folly, Old Father Merlin has found another way, and there's no more to be done but Patience, and be wiser another time:—A scalded Cat fears cold Water: If Wishes could bide, then Beggers would Ride: The worth of a thing is best known by its want; and One Nightingale in a Bush, sings better than two Iackdaws in a Cage: And so, Sir, let's behold our selves, as one blind Fool said to t'other.

Don Q.

Oh Plague! why, thou art in thy Kingdom, I see now; this is the rarest place to string thy Proverbs and thy Flim-flams in; I must get Merlin to Inchant that Tongue of thine a little, I find there will be no peace else.

Musick sounds again; the Magicians return; then a Dance of Furies; which ended, they take up the Cage and prepare to go out.
Vincent.

The Hour is come, and all the Sons of Art in Council sit; hast and set forward there.

Enter Hostess and Maritornes.
Hostess.

Why Dolt, Madman, Ass; a Murrain take thee, whither wilt thou let them carry thee—thus like a Fool? 'D'sheartlikins, hast not Brains enough to see 'tis only a Trick upon thee to make thee a—mew—mew—

Mews like a Cat, when Vin­cent waves his Rod.
Maritor.

And you, Jolthead Governour, don't you know a Proverb, that says, Bray a Fool in a Mortar, and you'll find all of him but his Brains. Where the Devil are you riding like a— whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo—

Shrieks like an Owl.
Don Q.

Alas, sweet Ladies, I pity ye, I see you feel my Fate, but cannot help me.

Till Merlin does ordain I shall be freed,
Valour's in Bonds, and Chivalry lies dead.
Sancho.
[Page]

Earl Sancho is cag'd, past all relief, Not like a Governour, but like a Thief.

They are carry'd off.
Don Fern.

Ha, ha, ha, ha,—rarely perform'd of all Hands: Gramercy mine Host, thou hast acted thy Part like any Come­dian.

Vincent.

Ah, to divert your Lordship and the good Company here, I could do twice as much as this is.

Perez.

There was no way to get him home but this, which has been excellently well-humour'd on all sides.

Lucind.

The Princess Micomicona deserves a real Kingdom for the Wit she has shown in't.

Carden.

She has indeed done it to a Miracle; and manag'd, not only the Action, but the Romantick Stile so naturally, that a wiser Head than Don Quixote's might have been deceived.

Doroth.

Not unless he had some Sparks of his Phrensy. But what pleases me most is Sancho, who is every foot at a loss, whether he shall be a Governour or nothing.

Fernand.

Ha, ha, ha,—Come now, let's go dine, and laugh an Hour away about it within.

Nicho.

Ay, ay, a Jest sounds always most merrily at a good Din­ner, my Lord; and to say the truth, the Squire of the Beard has been inchanted so long, that he begins to be hungry.

Fern.

Oh, thy Mirth shall begin presently then; were thy Hunger as sharp as one of thy one Razors it should be blunted—Come▪ mine Hostess too, and little Maritornes—y' have all done admirably▪ Oh, how every little Subject pleases us, when Love has tun'd ou [...] Souls by his sweet. Harmony! Now,

Embracing Dorothea.

my dear Friend, I hope your Joys are perfect too.

To Cardenio.
Carden.

In my Lucinda's Love, mine are as perfect as Heaven has Pow'r to make 'em.

Lucind.

And mine in meeting with my dear Cardenio.

Doroth.
And let each kind, too late repenting, Maid,
That fears she's by inconstant Man betray'd,
Yet by peculiar Fate, and Grace Divine,
At last retrieves her Lover—guess at mine.
Exeunt omnes.
FINIS.
THE Comical History …

THE Comical History OF Don QUIXOTE, As it is Acted at the Queen's Theatre in Dorset Garden.

By Their Majesties Servants.

Part the Second.

Written by Mr. D'urfey.

LONDON, Printed for S. Briscoe, in Russel-street, Co­vent Garden, and H. Newman at the Gras­hopper in the Poultry, 1694.

To the Right Honourable Charles Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, Ld. Chamberlain of Their Majesties Houshold, and Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter, &c.

My Lord,
AS in old times, when Wit had flourish'd long,
And Rome was famous for Poetick Song,
The Learned Bards did round Mecaenas throng:
To him as Wits Dictator, brought their Store
And Standard, that best tri'd the Muses Ore.
So in our Albion, tho her Bards are few,
Yet each one covets a Dictator too,
And for Mecaenas, fix (my Lord, on you.
You, like the famous Indian Gourd, are set,
Under whose shade, sits cool each pigmy Wit,
Free from the railing Criticks blasting heat.
Let the rich Spring flow clear or be impure,
Fenc'd with your Name, the Poet is secure:
Your Wit's a Sanctuary, where each one
Is safe, that wisely does for refuge run.
The roving Icarus in Poetry,
By you is levell'd, when he soars too-high.
By Judgments Rules and awful Sense reclaim'd,
The wild Hig [...]flyer is to Nature tam'd:
Nor does the grovelling Muse crawl off asham'd:
But by your mild reproof his faults discerne;
Made fit for Fame, if not to proud to learn.
Each Genius still is by your candor priz'd
The Great not flatter'd, nor the Less dispis'd.
For as great Maro, Naso, Flaccus, may
In your indulgent beams with freedom play;
So Bavius too, and Maevius uncontroul'd,
May busk about—and grac'd with smiles, be bold.
Oh bou [...]dless Glory! yet for eas [...] too great,
A [...]xious, tho prais'd, and restless in its State:
Wit's fate▪ and that of Soveraignty's the same,
Both sit high crown'd, both plagu'd by too much fame
As Courtiers for Preferment teazing come,
And at the Levee throng a Monarchs Room.
So when Apollo Crowns a darling Son,
Thelesser Tribe will all be pushing on,
[Page]To get a Scien of his sacred Bays,
To plant their Credit in suc [...]eeding Days.
Thus your Renown—your [...]rouble does encrease;
Less great (my Lord) you had been more at ease.
Like Hero's, that to War u [...]summo [...]'d come;
If less couragiou [...], had been safe at home.
A common Fate best suits with common Clay,
Stamp'd off in haste upon [...]he first Ess [...]y,
But Poets are not products of a Day.
Kings Reign by Conquest, Choice or Right of Bi [...]th;
Souldiers get Fame—and Grandees share the Earth.
But Wi [...]'s a prize so rare, there scarce appears,
One mighty Dorset in a Thousand Years:
And then too, Heaven that knows the Gift is great,
Thinks one enough to honour a whole state.
Thus are the two g [...]eat Blessing [...], Wit and Love,
Kept ( [...]s sublimest) with most care above.
He [...]ven gr [...]nts us sparingly of both a taste,
One rarely found, and t'other not too last;
Lest the weak Mortal, in his extasie,
Like the first Man, may know too much and dye:
Yet has this nice forbidden fruit, which Heaven
From Millions keeps, to you been frankly given.
You have ( [...]y Lord) a Pa [...]ent from above,
And can monopolize both Wit and Love;
Inspir'd and blest, by Heavens peculiar care,
Ador'd by all the Wife, and all the Fair;
To whom the World united give this due,
Best Iudge of Men, and best of Poets too.
Please to permit me then, as all the rest
Of Moses Sons already have address'd;
Thus, for your Patronage, to make appeal
The last Attending, but the first in Zeal.
Let but this Play the usual Grace receive,
And if your generous breath says—Let it live,
Don Quixot then, is fix'd in deathless Glory,
And Sancho, on the Stage is famous as in story.
Which is, My Lord,
The humble Suit of Your Lordships most obliged and eternally devoted Servant,

THE PREFACE.

THE good success, which both the Parts of Don Quixote have had, either from their Natural Merit, or the Indulgence of my Friends, or both, ought sufficiently to satisfie me, that I have no reason to value the little Malice of some weak Heads, that make it their business to be simply Criticizing.

I will therefore desist from any Answer in that kind, and wholly rely upon, and please my self, with the good Opinion and kind Cen­sure of the Iudicious, who unanimously declare, that I have not lessened my self in the great undertaking, of drawing two Plays out of that ingenious History, in which if I had flagg'd either in Stile or Character, it must have been very obvious to all Eyes; but on the contrary, I have had the honour to have it judg'd that I have done both Don Quixote and Sancho Iustice, making as good a Copy of the first as possible, and furnishing the last with newer and better Proveabs of my own than he before diverted ye with.

Besides, I think I have given some additional Diversion in the continuance of the Character of Marcella, which is wholly new in this Part, and my own Invention; the design finishing with more pleasure to the Audience by punishing that coy Creature by an extravagant Passion here, that was so inexorable and cruel in the first Part, and ending with a Song so incomparably well sung, and acted by Mrs. Brace­girdle, that the most envious do allow, as well as the most ingenious affirm, that 'tis the best of that kind ever done before.

Then I must tell my severe Censurers, who will be spitting their Venom against me tho to no purpose, that I deserve some acknowled­ment for drawing the Character of Mary the Buxom, which was intirely my own, and which I was not obliged to the History at all for, there [Page] being no mention of her the [...]e, but that Sanchica, which was her right name, was found washing in a River by the Dukes Page, and leapt up behind him on Horseback to guide him to carry her Fathers Letter to her Mother; yet by making the Character humorous, and the extraordinary well acting of Mrs. Verbruggen, it is by the best Iudges allowed to be a Masterpiece of humour.

The rest of the Characters in both the Parts were likewise extream­well performed, in which I had as much Iustice done me as I could expect, nor was the Musical Part less commendable, the Words every where being the best of mine in that kind, and if in the whole, they could draw such Audiences for so long time, in such violent hot Weather, I shall not despair, that when the Season is more temperate, to see at their next representation, a great deal of good Company.

I have Printed some Scenes both in the first and second part which were left out in the Acting— the Play and the Musick be­ing too long; and I doubt not but they will divert in the reading, because very proper for the Connexion: And as I have in this, and in all my things, studied to promote the Pleasure and Satisfaction of my Friend; so I am very well satisfied, to find by my profit, that I have not lost my Labour.

PROLOGUE For Mr. Powel.

THis Sou [...]lry season which was wont to clear
The Town, of all the friends we held most dear,
Believe we are very glad to s [...]e you here▪
The Wits that now defie their God the Sun,
(Proof 'gainst his beams) to see Don Quixote run,
Such miracles have he and comick Sancho done
Faith since good Nature did your Hearts inspire
To use us kindly once don't let it tire;
But let our second Merry Scenes be grac'd
With your united praise, as were our last.
If you object the weather is too hot,
The World is in a [...]erment, think of that:
Heroes abroad sweat for the glorious day,
And I am sure you cannot choose but say,
That 'tis much safer sweating at a Play:
For in the main, vast difference will appear,
Twixt those that sweat for pleasure or for fear.
Well, then 'tis time to doubt ye were unjust,
Since you have been so civil to our first;
For those abroad as well as here at home,
To see our last, we thank 'em, all have come;
Some to oblige us, from the B [...]th have stay'd,
Th' unteeming Wife, and the Green sickness Maid,
Such Sport has been, it seems, in what we plaid.
From Richmond some, where crowds of Beauty dwell;
Nay th' Cits have left their darling Epsom W [...]ll,
And jogg'd from them to us like honest Men,
Vpon their trotting Pads of Three Pound Ten:
Then, we have had some of the Blackcoats too,
Men skill'd in Books, that our Don Quixote kn [...]w,
That fearing to be found o [...]t at a Play,
Sat in the Pit, in Coats of Iron gray.
In short, 'tis plain, we all degrees have had,
Their Money too—for which we are not sad;
And if you please to favour us once more,
T' encour [...]ge ye, the Poet just now swore,
This is a better play than t [...]at before.

EPILOGUE,

By Sancho and Mary the Buxome.
Sancho.
COme, prithee, Mary, tho our Case be bad
Let's make the best on't—humour thy Old Dad,
And speak to th' Folk.
Mary.
I cod, I think y' are mad.
What would you have me say?
San.
Why tell 'em that
Tho th' plaguy Poet makes us lose our State,
And doff our Robes that made us look so gay,
That thou wilt serve 'em in some other way,
Provided they'll be civil to the Play.
Mary.
What other way Zooks can I serve 'em in,
Vnless they have any Lockram Smocks to spin;
Will these, dee think, prefer a Country Tool
In Serge and Dowlas—Vather you're a Fool:
For ought I see amongst this long nos'd Crew,
They'd rather wear out Smocks, than pay me to make new
These Love your Flaunters, trickt in huge Commode,
Sprunt up with Wire and Ribbons a Cart-load:
Lord! how each Courtier-man would scowle at's Wife,
Dizzen'd as I'am now here in aCoif,
Gadslids your Top high Flyers of the Town,
Now, scarce wear any thing that is their own;
One has false Teeth, another has false Hair,
One has an Eye-brow made, another's bare:
Some flabby, lank, unwholsome, barren Phillies,
Stuff Cushions up, to counterfeit great Bellies,
And others, that they may look round as Drums
Dress t' other place, and wear 'em on their Bums.
These are the Dishes that these Folk esteem,
A Country Rasher won't go down with them;
Therefore, for my part, I'll no favour crave,
I know their humour, and my breath I'll save;
[...]et to conclude, I say this of the Play,
I [...]od'tis good, and if they like't they may.

The Represent [...]rs Names, and Characters.

Duke Ricar­do.A Grandee of Spain, Mr. Cibbe [...].
Cardenio.A witty young Gentleman, his Companion and Friend, acted by Mr. Bowman.
Ambrosio.A young Student of Salamanca, and Ki [...]sman to the Duke, an inveterate enemy to women, ever since his dear Friend Chrisostome died for Love of Marcella. Act [...]d by Mr. Verbruggen.
Don Quixot.A frantick Gent [...]eman of the Mancha, who ran mad with reading Books of Chivalry, and supposes himself a Knight Errant. Acted by Mr. Bo [...]n.
Mannel.Steward to the Duke, a pleasant witty Fellow, who with Pedro and the Page, manages all the designs used in the fooling Don Quixote. Acted by Mr. Powel.
Pedro Rezio.A Doctor of [...]hysick, and Assistant to Mannel in fooling Don Quixote. Acted by Mr. Freeman.
Bernardo.Chaplain to the Duke—A positive, testy, morose fellow. Acted by Mr. Trefuse.
Diego.A rough ill na [...]ur'd vicious fellow, Master of the Dukes Game, and chief Shepherd, in love with Marcella. Acted by Mr. Harris.
Page to the Duke.Ano [...]her witty young Fellow, and agent in the fooling Don Quixote. Acted by Mr. Lee
Sancho Pan­cha.Squire to Don Quixote, a dull, heavy, Country Booby in appearance, but in discourse, dry, subtle and sharp, a great repeater of Proverbs, which he blunders out upon all occasions, tho never so absurd, or far from the purpose. Acted by Mr. Underhil.
Taylor, Gadener, Painter, Grazier, Small Man and Woman, Petitioners to the Governor Sancho. 
Dutchess.A merry face [...]ious Lady, that perpetually diverts herself with the extravaga [...]t [...]ollies of Don Quixote and Sancho. Acted by Mrs Knight.
Luscinda.Wife to Cardenio, her Companion. Acted by Mrs. Bowman.
Dulcinea del Toboso.Page to the Duke, commanded by him to personate Don Quixotes feigned M [...]striss. Acted by Mr. Lee.
Marcella.A young beautiful Shepherdess of Cordoua, extreamly coy, and Averse to men at first, but afterwards passionately in Love with Ambrosio. Acted by Mrs. Bracegirdle.
Dona Ro­driguez.Woman to the Du [...]chess, antiquated, opinionated and im­pertinent. Acted by Mrs. Kent.
Teresa Pan­cha.Wife to Sa [...]cho— a poor clownish Country woman, Acted by Mrs. Lee.
Mary.Her Daughter, a ramping ill-bred Dowdy. Mrs. Verbruggen.
Rico [...]ta, Flora.Two other Co [...]ntry Lasses.
l [...]chant [...]rs, Furi [...]s, Carver, Cryer, Constable, Watch, Musiti [...]ns, Singers, Dancers and Attendants. 

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Enter Ambrosio, Mannel, Pedro.
Ambros.

SO Gentlemen, are all things in order for the Dukes design of entertaining this whimsical Knight Errant?

Man.

They are Sir, every Servant in the house answers to his Cue as readily as if he had been brought up in a Theatre.

Ped.

We find no one tardy in the business but Diego the Dukes Ma­ster of the Shepherds, who we hear has almost lost his wits for Love; and the Coxcomb grows every day so mop'd with it, that he neglects all other business.

Ambros.

There's something in that fellow more than ordinary, a swarth complexion, hot and Saturnine, you had best look to him Ma­ster Steward, for I know him to be of a mischievous nature, and not honest. Farewel, I must go seek the Duke, who is gone to the Grove, just by the Park side yonder, to meet Don Quixote, and bring him to his Castle.

Man.

Have they lodg'd the Knight then?

Ambros.

'Twas all the work of the neighbourhood to watch his moti­on: Sancho we hear was sent of an Errant to Toboso this morning, but a­bout what we know not—and the Knight stays yonder, waiting for his coming—farewel, you had best make haste home before, to get all things in readiness.

Exit Ambrosio.
Man.

I intend it Sir. Come Doctor, we shall have rare sport.

Pedro.

—'Sdeath! is't possible the Frenzy should still be so [...]rong up­on the Fool: 'tis not above a Month, since a Brother of my Professi­on, told me that he administred to him at his House, and had great hopes of his Cure.

Man.

There was such a report indeed. The manner of his ridiculous Inchantment, and bringing home in a Cage too, is very authentick— But Sancho and he one Night, made a shift to give 'em all the slip, and this is now his second Sally.

Pedro.

Ha, ha, ha—And in good time, he undertakes it to give the Duke and Dutchess diversion—Come let's be gone, that I may be ready for my part in the Scene.

Man.

The Chaplain must not know of it.

Exeunt.
Enter Diego Solus.
Diego.

What are their Frollicks or their Sports to me, that have a [Page 2] burning Fever in my breast, that hourly consumes me. I know no Master now, but raging Passion, nor own Obedience, but to Love's great power; and my hearts Murdress, the ador'd Marcella, whom to enjoy, Ile hazard Credit, Fortune, nay venture at once, my Souls and Body's ruine, and ne're believe that I can pay too dear.

Pulls out a Let­ter and muses.
Re-enter Ambrosio.
Ambros.

I've r [...]iss'd the Duke and Dutchess strangely, who I believe, are gone the left hand way over the Pattock,—How now, who have we here, Diego the chief Shepherd,—This is the loving Fool they late­ly talk'd of. Ile stay a little to observe him.

Absconds behind.
Diego.

This Letter here, shews me the road to happiness, which is just sent me from a trusty friend that I employed to watch her Evening Haunts, and now 'tis done effectually—

Reads.

Know she's the proudest of her Sex, as well as the most beautiful, and therefore shuns all Conver­sation with ours, and generally with her own; therefore to indulge her humour, I have observ'd her several evenings together to walk alone exactly about seven in the Mirtle Grove, that joyns to the Embassadors Garden, where at the aforesaid hour, you may securely seize her. I would assist ye, but the Embassador is this minute sent for to Court— But at my return, I expect the pleasure, to hear that you are reveng'd upon that proud Beauty, that so long has tortur'd ye—the account of which Action will give a secret pleasure, to your faithful Friend, &c.

Diego.

The Action—Oh how my heart leaps in my breast to think ont! Remorse avaunt, I am resolv'd this Evening to force the scornful Fair to quench my flame, and glut my love with the sweet Spoyls of Beauty—

Exit. Diego.
Ambros.

Here's a pretty business going forward; why what a damn'd Wolf or Satyr of a Fellow, have I discover'd here among the Sheep-coats—In Love, did they say?—ay, this is the very Devil of a Lover, a most admirable Monster to justify my quarrel to' the Sex: this sort of Coridons now, would fit the Female Devillings. Dam 'em [...]le take no notice on't; no usage can be bad enough for 'em,—But hold, is that resolution like a Gentleman? does it consist with honour? Pox on't, would chance had never led my feet this way. Now I'm a greater Villain than the Ravisher, if I permit the mischief. 'Tis so, and I must prevent it.

In spite of Rancour she shall succour find,
I'll save her honour, tho I hate her kind.
Exit.
Enter Don Quixot solus.
Don. Q.

Oh that I had, as once young Phaeton, the rule of the bright Charriot of the Sun, that I might whip the Hours into more speed, or for a minute could disarm the Furies, to give one good smart lash to [...]agging Sancho, whom I this morning sent, with a Love Message, to my Ador'd and Charming Dulcinea. Post on ye sluggish Minutes, run dull Squire, and let thy Thoughts inform thy heavy Heels, the longings of [Page 3] my Soul: In the mean time, here in this Grotto, rest thou load of Love, think on thy lovely Charmer, and let thy amorous Soul, send forth no other sound but Dulcinea, oh Dulcinea.

Exit.
Enter Sancho.
Sanc.

Yonder he lyes, and as melancholy as a Cat in a Church Stee­ple, expecting my return, —and now good Brother Sancho—be pleas'd to go on with your design, and since you don't like the Mess [...]ge you are sent about, let's see how your Wit can bring you off—let me see, your maggot pated Master Don Quixot sends you to Toboso, to the P [...]in­cess Dulcinea—very good—Did you ever hear of any such Princess San­cho?—no—or has your Master ever seen such?—neither,—why then yo [...]r errand appears to be but a kind of mad whimsey Sancho—no doubt on't—well then, what remedy?—why thus Brother—if your Master can fancy Princesses, where none ere were—Windmils to be Giants, and flocks of Sheep, Armies—and say every foot that his sight is beguil'd by Inchantments—'twill be as easie for you to take the next Comer Sancho—and perswadehim to believe 'tis the radiant Dulcinea.

Enter two Country Wenches.
1. C. W.

Come Couzin Ricotta, prithee come along; Udsliflikins, Ile be hang'd if the Bride b'ant gone to Church, before we can get thither.

2. C. W.

Why prithee how can that be fool, when Father Iodolet [...]he Priest, and Gasper the Piper, are just gone before us.

1. C. W.

Pshaw that's all one, the holy Cormorant has been at Break­fast already, he has devoured half a Turkey, and drank a Bottle of Malaga,—this Morning, so that he has nothing to do till Dinner, but to chop up Mass, and see 'em joyn'd according to custom.

2. C. W.

He see 'em joyn'd according to custom, why how now you plaguy Hoyden you,— dee make a pimp of the Priest.

Sanc.

Why how now you young pert baggage, a pimp of a Priest, why is that such a miracle. This comes as pat as I could wish, these are two rare Jades for my purpose.

Aside.
2. C. W.

What ails the Slouch, can't you go on your way, I spoke to my Couzin Flora, I did not meddle with you swag-belly.

Sanc.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, it shall be so faith, this shall be the Princess Dulcinea Gadzookes,—and this other Dowdy here, shall be her waiting woman—ha, ha, ha.

Sancho stops 'em.
1. C. W.

What's the matter with the Paunch, what ails the bristle chops, can't y [...]u let us go and be hang'd.

Sanc.

Till my Lord Don Quixot, has kindled his amorous Taper at the Glow-worm Rays, of your Lady the Princess there, not for the world—my dear Lindabrides.

2. C. W.

What Lady, what Princess? what a Dickins, is the Booby mad?

Sanc.

Therefore appear, thou mirrour of Knight Errantry, [Page 4] thy Queen, here is thy Dulcinea, Moon of thy hopes, North Star of thy desires, shining with all her fiery beams upon thee.

Enter Don Quixote.
Don. Q.

'Twas Sancho's voice,—and see yonder he stands—welcome thou blest, thou long'd for Messenger,—well and what success good Friend, hah! was the God of Love compassionate?

Sanc.

Success, sbud—kneel, kneel; Sir, oons are you blind, why there she is Sir, the Princess, the Peerless Dulcinea, the grand Toboso, the silver Trumpet of Renown, the fire Arms of Beauty, and the Touch­hole of Love, attended by the most beautiful Babberlips of Spain, the lovely—Wiffundera.

They kneel.
Don Q.

Where is the Princess Sancho.

Staring about.
1. C. W.

Ah Devil on ye, what game, what foolery's this? pray let's go will ye.

Sanc.

Oh Princess and Universal Lady of Toboso, why does not your magnanimous heart relent, seeing the Pillar, and prop of Chivalry pro­strate before your sublimated presence: 'Sbud Sir are you dumb?—or a [...]e your senses ravish'd from you, at the beams of those fair Eyes, those lushious Bubbies, and Amber Locks, adorn'd with Pearl and Diamonds.

Don Q.

Pearl and Diamonds?

Rubs his Eyes.
Sanc.

'Dsheart, what dee lye rubbing your Eyes so for? Why don't you see all this?

Don Q.

Upon my Knighthood—No.

Sanc.

The Devil were in ye if you should,—how the clownish Jades stare at one another.

Aside.
Don. Q.

I see no Princess: the objects that present themselves to me, are Faces most uncomely, dost thou see this rare sight, Sancho?

Rises up.
Sanc.

Do I? I think I do, I see the Princess shining with Gold there, like a Sun beam, and the most bright and altified Whiffundera, blazing like a Star of the first Magnitude.

1. C. W.

Well enough Brewis-belly; Adshdikins leave off your fool­ing, and let's be gone, or I'll call out to the Vineyard yonder.

2. C. W.

There be Folkes there that will take our parts, you may chance to get a drubbing for your Jokes, if you han't a care, Bacon-face.

Exeunt.
Sanc.

Zooks, Queen Blouze may be in the right in that, therefore I'll make haste.

Don Q.

If that be the Princess that spoke last, some Devilish Spell this moment is upon me, I am bereav'd of all my sight and senses.

Sanc.

How, how's that Sir? I hope not so—This is what I lookt for, ha, ha, ha, ha, the Trick fadges rarely.

Aside.
Don Q

Dost thou smell nothing, Sancho?

Sanc.

A perfum'd sigh or two, the Princess breath'd, Sir, nothing else.

Don Q.

Nay, then 'tis plain I'm inchanted—agen, by my Knighthood, [...]t seem'd to me of Garlick.

Don Q.
[Page 5]

Garlick! oh Villains, now could I eat one of these Inchant­ing Rogues. And I warrant the Princess and her Lady, Sir, seems to you like two Hog-rubbing Dowdies?

Don Q.

Todpoles! Witches! I have not seen two uglier.

Sanc.

Good lack a day, that these Devilish fellows can do this!— Keep in your breath, and be hang'd.

Aside.
2. C. W.

Keep you off and be hang'd. So ho, in the Vineyard there.

1. C. W.

Pedro, Valasco, Tarzoe, so ho; odslid come near me agen— a couple of Cogging Scoffing Gibers, what a Murrain can't you let people go along the Road? did we meddle with you? odslid come near me agen, and I'll give thee such a gripe on the Weazon, I'll make thee kackle agen.

They run out.
Don Q.

Ugh— [...]here's another whiff, the very — quintessence of Garlick. Oh thou extream of all wickedness, thou abhorr'd Inchant­er, whoe're thou art, think not because thou canst pervert my Smelling faculty, and put these Clouds and Cataracts in my Eyes, to eclipse that dazling Beauty from me, that it shall serve thy turn; no Misc [...]eant, the time shall come, when by my powerful Arm all Charms shall be dis­solv'd, and this bright Planet, hid by vile Inchantment, shine bright and clear for ever. Is she gone, Sancho?

Sanc.

Yes Sir, and upon so fast a gallop, that 'tis impossible for Rosi­nante to overtake her; therefore pray Sir consider the Proverb that says, To ill accidents apply patience; Let every Conscience fit itself to the times; we shall have a smiling minute, when we shall ferk these plaguy Inchanters before they are aware: In the mean time be pleas'd to think of being an Emperour as soon as you can Sir—that I may be a Gover­nour, and raise my Family, for to my thinking I should become go­verning hugely. Well, and now I talk of governing, yonder comes a company that I think look like Emperours and Governours indeed.

Don. Q.

Not a word more—I know 'em, 'tis the Great Duke of that noble Seat thou seest there, with his fair Dutchess: And I suppose my Fame has reach'd his Ears; he comes hither now to find me out.

Enter Duke Ricardo, Dutchess, Cardenio, Luscinda, Rodriguez and Servants.

Down swelling griefs a while be husht and silent, whilst from these great ones I receive that Ceremony my noble Function merits: And dee hear Sancho, be sure you behave your self with that Decorum as suits my Squire, and the place y'are in.

Sancho.

Well, well, Sir, a word to the wise is enough— Man­ners makes the Man, quoth William of Wickham—Now we are to deal with People that have a scence of governing; I warrant ye let me alone for behaving my self.

Duke,

Lure off the Hawks, the day's too hot for sport, we'll out again in th' Evening— Most noble Knight Don Quixote de la Mancha— Fortune has now oblig'd me to my Wishes, thou Quintescence, thou [Page] Soul of Arms and Honour, welcome into my Province.

Don Q.

Your Graces most devoted, lives no longer, than whilst he is yours in all humble duty.

Duke.

Illustrious Errant, I am proud to thank ye— Madam that you m [...]y know highly Fortune honours me, I am oblig'd to tell ye this is the Knight of the Ill-favour'd face, the shining Sun of Spain, the Mars of Arms and Chivalry, whom I desire you to invite to my Castle, that we may shew how we admire such Virtue.

Dutch.

I am his Greatnesses most humble Servant, and hope he'll so far honour us.

Don Q.

I kiss your beauteous Hand most excellent Lady, and whol­ly subject my self to your Commands.

Sanc.

Subject himself to her Commands,—Gadzooks very pretty, that,—well, this plaguy Devil my Master, has a notable way with him sometimes.

Card.

We are all—Valiant Sir, your humble Servants and most oblig'd.

Lusci.

But most of all our Sex—as to a Champion whose daily In­deavour is to right our wrongs, with Sword and Launce, on Mountain or in Valley, to vindicate the cause [...]f injured Ladies.

Duke.

And this good Fellow, if I mistake not, must sure be trusty Sancho, the honest Pa [...]tner of this brave Knights dangers.

Sanc.

Your Mightiness h [...]s hit it to a hair— I am the very Sancho, in­deed a Governour elect too, for all I look so▪ and as for dangers, why lit­tle said is soon amended, common fame is seldom to blame, but Patience is a plaister for all sores. My master and I have heard Wolves howl at Midnight before now,—we know how an Oaken Cudgel can bruise, and what danger is in cold Iron: we are no Flinchers, we.

Don Q.

You will forget blunderhead.

To Sancho aside.

A Clown­ish Prater, my Lord, I hope your Grace will excuse him.

To the Duke.
Duke.

Oh, Sancho is very pleasant, and his Proverbs become him extreamly—Go some of you and bridle this noble Knights Horse, that I see feeding yonder, and bring him to the Stable; we'll go in the back way over the Garden.

Sanc.

And pray Mrs. since I see you have nothing else to do, will you be so kind as to go to yonder Hedge, where

to Rodrigues.

you will find a dapple grey Ass,— ty'd and do so much as put him up with Rozinante, and pray take what care of him you can, because the poor fool is a little skittish, and I can't wait on him my self, by reason you see me oblig'd to follow my Master.

Rod.

How now ignorant Bufflehead, d'e know who you talk to?

Don Q.

Oh confound him, did you ever hear such a sordid Son of a Whore? Why thou complicated lump of Dullness, does this good Gen­ [...]lewoman look like a Groom? Does she seem fit to manage in a Stable, thou incomprehensible Rascal.

Dutch.
[Page]

'Twas only a small mistake, Sir Knight, my woman's very good natur'd, and I know Sancho intended no affront.

Duke.

No, no, 'twas a civillity any one might have begg'd; besides Dapple may be nearer related to Sancho than we imagine. I have bit my tongue almost through▪ I shall ne're be able to hold out.

To Cardenio aside.
Carden.

Nor I, I dare not look that way for fear of laughing aloud.

Luscind.

How Mrs. Rodriguez swells, I warrant she could poyson San­cho now with all her Soul, for she knows nothing of the design.

To Card.
Rod.

I shall hardly expose my sense, to resent any thing from su [...]h a Rustical Brute; my Breeding and his, I suppose, have been in diffe­rent stations, therefore the best way of expressing my self about it, is by contempt. I despise the Creature.

Duke.

Well, well, since you despise him, so let it end then. Come most Heroick, shall I lead the way— My Wife attends your mo­tion.

Don Quixote leads out the Dutchess.
Don. Q.

Her Grace extreamly honours me— Hah—Dunghil Vermin is this your manners with a Pox t'ee.

Aside to Sancho.
Sanc.

Where the Devil's the harm ont? Gadzooks I thought Wait­ing Women might have gone into Lords Stables, as well as Footmen into Ladies Bed-chambers; hut Live and learn, and be hang'd and for­get all; there's a good Proverb however.

Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Bernardo, Mannell, Pedro and Page.
Man.

COme, are the Musicians ready now for the Entertainment, the Duke and Dutchess are just at the Gate.

Page.

They are all tuning their Instruments in the next room.

Man.

Page, prithee run and tell the Cook and the Confectioner my Lord will have the Banquet after the Musick is ended.

Exit Page.
Bern.

And what's all this preparation for I wonder: What silly gam­bol is going to be plaid now?

Man.

And why silly gambol? Lord you are always so p [...]ish Mr. Cuff-cushion, there's no living with ye, any thing that does not suit your grave testy humour is silly presently. Pox methinks you should know your station of being unmannerly a little better, be civil here, and be rude when you get into your Pulpit.

Bern.

Ah, thou art a pretty fellow to govern a Family with a flashy Head, and a Heart void of Conscience, Morality and Religion. How dar'st thou prophane the Pulpit, Reprobate; a Whore were a more natural thing for thee to talk of.

Man.
[Page]

Why that's a Pulpit you love to preach in too, as well as I, for all your canting.

Pedro.

No, you must let him govern every thing, and then Sir gravi­ty will be easie; let but the head Butler be his Croney, and my Ladies pretty Chambermaid sit on his Bed-side in a Morning, and mend his Stockings, and then you shall hear him rail no more, nor ever have a Sermon against Drinking or Whoring.

Bern.

Why thou infect, bred from excrement; thou Quack, with not skill enough to cure a Lap-dog of the Mange? thou venery-promo­ter, art thou shooting thy Turpentine Pills at me too.

Man.

Put him but into a fret, and 'twill be better sport, than a Bearbaiting, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Bern.

Fulsom Idiot, poor wretch.

Man.

Ha, ha, ha, ha,—poor Vestry dawber.

Pedro.

Come, come, prithee,—now let's leave him to chew the Cud upon contemplation — here comes my Lord.

Enter Duke, Cardenio and Page.
Duke.

Is he unarm'd?

Page.

They are doing it my Lord, and treating him in all points, as your Grace has order'd.

Card.

My Lady Dutchess will grow fat with laughing, I never saw her take so much pleasure in any Jest before

Duke.

Go you and assist in the Ceremony, and be sure

To Man. and Pedro.

to use him according to the custom of Knight Errants of old, which I have read [...]'e in books of Chivalry — how now Bernardo, what is your reverend solidity musing on, hah?

Exit. Man. and Pedro.
Bern.

I am musing my Lord, on those books of Chivalry, which I have of late often found you reading, and I profess I wonder that a man of your clear Sense and good parts, should waste your precious time so unprofitably.

Duke.

Testy Fool, now if I would permit him, would this peevish Blockhead, be impertinent two long hours by the Clock,—Come, come, I'll endure no reproof now; if thou'lt be sociable, and take part of the Musick and the Banquet, 'tis well, if not.—

Bern.

The Musick— No, not I, Heaven estrange my ears from hear­ing such Vanity,—as for the other part, it is my duty to give a Bles­sing to't, therefore I shall attend.

Exit Bern.
Card.

Ay to the eating part, I warrant thee, if any of thy Tribe are wanting at that I much wonder.

Musick sounds, then enter Don Quixote unarm'd, with a rich Mantle over him, and led between the Dutchess and Luscinda, Sancho following with Rodriguez and Servants, they place Don Quixot in the chief Seat, and all sit down.
Duke.
[Page 9]

Long live the Flower of Knight Errantry, the renowned Don Quixote de la Mancha.

Dutch.

Vivat the Succourer of Widows and Orphans.

Card.

The Righter of Wrongs, and Retriever of the ancient and most noble Laws of Chivalry.

Luscind.

The Tamer of Giants, and undaunted Queller of Monsters and Furies.

Duke.

Let the Sports begin to entertain him, and let no part be want­ing to do him honour.

SONG.
I.
IF you will Love me, be free in Expressing it,
And henceforth give me no Cause to complain;
Or if you hate me, be plain in Confessing it,
And in few words put me out of my pain.
This long decaying, with sighing and praying,
Breeds only delaying in Life and Amour,
Cooing and Wooing,
And daily pursuing,
Is damn'd silly doing, therefore I'll give o're.
II.
If you'll propose a kind method of ruling me,
I may return to my Duty again;
But if you stick to your old way of Fooling me,
I must be plain I [...]m none of your Men;
Passion for passion on each kind occasion,
With free inclination does kindle Loves Fire,
But Tedious prating,
Coy folly debating,
And now doubts creating, still makes it expire.
The Lady's Answer.
I.
YOU Love, and yet when I ask you to marry me,
Still have recourse to the tricks of your Art;
Then like a Fencer you cunningly parry me,
Yet the same time make a Pass at my Heart.
Fye, fye, deceiver,
No longer endeavor,
Or think this way ever the Fort will be won?
No fond Caressing
Must be, nor unlacing,
Or tender embracing 'till th' Parson has done.
II.
Some say that Marriage a Dog with a Bottle is,
Pleasing their humours to rail at their Wives;
Others declare it an Ape with a Rattle is,
Comforts Destroyer and Plague of their Lives:
Some are affirming,
A Trap 'tis for Vermin,
And yet with the Bait tho not Prison agree,
Ventring that Chouse you,
Must let me Espouse you
If e're, my dear Mouse you will nibble at me.
Here follows an Entertainment of Dancing, then the Banquet is prepared and brought in; the Duke places Don Quixote at the upper end of the Table, but he refuses it.
Enter Bernardo and says Grace.
Don Quix.

I do beseech your Grace, I shall dye with Blushing▪

Duke.

The highest merit must have highest place.

Don Quix.

My Lord, you confound me with excess of favour.

Duke.

Nay, nay, it must be so, Sir.

They sit, and Sancho waits on Don Quixote.
Bern.

O [...] my Conscience this is that Scare-crow Knight Errant Don Quixote, that I have heard the Duke talk so often of; oh the whimsi­cal Idiot!

Sits at the lower end.
Dutch.

Indeed, Sir Knight, if I may speak my thoughts, your Mo­desty is a great deal too nice: You needs must know your place, where­e're you are.

Sancho.

Now have I two Proverbs at my tongues end, that I'de give half my Government to vent— One is, He that has more manners than he ought, is more a Fool than he thought; and t'other is▪ there is more ado with one Jackanapes, than with all the Bears.

Dutch.

How now Friend Sancho, what are you muttering, come we must have no wit lost.

Sancho.

Ah blessing on your Noblenesses pratling place; y're a princely Jewel, I'll say that for ye: And now my Master Don Quixote has put me in the mind on't—I could tell ye a very pretty tale that hap­pened in our Town, concerning places.

Don. Quix.

You will prate Jolthead—I beseech your Graces, let this Coxcomb be thrust out, we shall hear a thousand follies else.

Bern.

By my sincerity these are both craz'd alike, and I shall ne're have patience to hear half their Fooleries.

Duke.

By no means, my noble Sir, Sancho must needs go on with his tale.

Card.

Oh we lose our chief diversion else— for his wit and good humour must needs make it very pleasant.

Lusc.
[Page 11]

Therefore begin quickly, honest Friend, for my Lady Dutch­ess and I are impatient till we hea [...] it.

Sancho.

Why then thus it goes, you must know then, that there was a Gentleman in our Town, nearly related to Don Alonzo de Maranon, Knight of the Order of St. Iaques, who was drown'd in the Heradura, about whom that quarrel was a little while since in our Town▪ Master mine, pray Sir, were not you in't— Where little Thomas the Madcap. Son to Balvastro the Smith, had a deep wound in the Scrotum as they call'd it, about the Widow Waggum.

Don Q.

A plague on thee for a Crust-grinder, dost thou begin a Tale without head or foot, and then ask me a question— Now do I sweat for the Rogue.

Aside.
Sancho.

Well, well, then 'tis no great matter— And so this Gen­tleman that I told you fi [...]st of▪ invited a poor Husbandman to Din­ner; and so the poor man coming to the Gentleman Inviters House, Heaven be merciful to him, for he is now dead; and for a further Token, they s [...]y, died like a Lamb—for I was not by, for at that time I was gone to another Town to reaping.

Bern.

Ay, and prithee come back from reaping quickly, without [...]urying the Gentleman, unless thou hast a mind to kill us too with expe­ctation.

Omnes.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Don Quix.

Oh tardy Hellhound, I'm in a Feaver for him.

Aside.
Sancho.

Ne're [...]ear, Sir, I'll be mannerly.

To Don Quixote apart.

And so, as I was saying, both being ready to sit down to Table, the poor man contended with the Gentleman not to sit uppermost, and the Gentleman with him that he should, as meaning to command in his own house, but still the Country Booby pretending to be mannerly and courteous, would not; till the Gentleman very angry, thrusting him down, said to him, sit there you Thrasher, for wherever I sit with thee shall still be the upper end: and now you have my tale forsooth, and I hope pretty well to the purpose.

Don Quixote frowns on Sancho.
Omnes.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Duke.

A very admirable tale and quantity delivered, ha, ha, ha.

Dutch.

Poor Sancho will [...]ay for this anon; the Knight looks very an­gry, I'll try to divert it—My Lord, Don Quixote, I beseech ye, if my request be not improper, how fares the gracious Dulcinea del Toboso,— and what Giants, Bugbears and Captives have you sent her lately.

Don Q.

How could I mumble that Dog, if I had him in a corner.

Aside.
Sancho

What a plague's the matter, I've said something amiss now I see by's look.

Don Q.

Ah Madam, there you divide my heart in [...]under, the beau­teous Dulcinea is inchanted.

Dutch.

Is't possible!

Bern.

Ye Crack brain'd Idiot, I profess I can bear no longer. Fie, fie, [Page 12] my Lord and Madam, what dee mean — I vow your Graces are much to blame t' indulge the Frenzy of this Lunatick.

Don Q.

How? What's that Sir, Lunatick?

Carden.

Now comes the sport.

Lusc.

The Priest has smothered his testy humour till he's black in the face.

Bern.

Who thrust it into your brains Don Quixote, or Don Cox­comb, that you are a Knight Errant, with a murrain tee, and that you c [...]n kill Giants, Monsters, B [...]gbears— Or know of any Princess that's enchanted? Is not this Spain, incorrigible Dull pate? What Errants are [...] here? Or what use of'em, hah?

Don. Q.

Oh monstrous! Oh thou old black Fox with a Firebrand i [...] thy tail thou very Priest, thou Kindler of all Mischiefs in all Nations, dee hea [...], Homily, did not the Reverence that I bear these Nobles bind my just rage, I would so thrum your Cassock, you Church Vermin.

Bern.

I profess, I have a great mind to strip, I have much ado to for­bear—but hold, I will not shame my Coat— I will absent me prudently—Well, Madman, passion is an ill arguer, some other time we will dispute this point—Till when farewel—Add [...]e pate.

Don Q.

Adie [...] Scriptures groper.

Exit Bernardo.
Duke

A waspish strange old Fool: I hope, Sir, you take no offence.

Don Q.

None, none, my Lord, upon my Honour, Women and Priest [...] may say any thing.

D [...]ke.

He shall beg your pardon▪ Hey Page, bid the Chaplain wait m [...] in the Park.

Exit Page.
Dutch.

Come will you retire, Sir, for an hour, and then we'll divert you abroad with Hawking.

Don. Q.

I am your Graces ever.

Exit leading the Dutchess.
Sancho.

I am glad of this; that Black Coat's prating has made him forget me.

Carden.
Come, my Dear, lets follow and laugh.
This [...]ut begins the Farce which yet we see:
Lusc.

Where these Fools are, there must Diversion be.

Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter Diego disguis'd, pulling in Marcella.
Marcel.

HElp, help, for Heavens sake help.

Diego.

You call in vain, nothing can help you now but fair compliance.

Marcel.
[Page 13]

Help, help—is no blest charitable creature near, to help a Maid in her distress?

Diego.

Yes I.

Marcel.

Thou art a Devil.

Diego.

So, my Dear, art thou, a very Devil, and the Hell I've suf­fer'd, through thy nice Female Pride and Obstinacy, is greater than the Damn'd below endure; but I am now grown a profound Magician, and I can conjure that proud Daemon from thee, that late insulted o're all human kind. You now must love, Marcella.

Marcel.

Curst sound, and now more curst than ever, coming from the mouth of such a Fury.

Diego.

Ay, this is well now— I am pleas'd to see that Lucifer keeps his old station in your proud heart; my Spell will work the better. Mild­ness perhaps had wrought me to a stile of whining Love, to court and sue for favour, look like a Fool, be modest, cringe and bow, lye like a Chambermaid, and at last get nothing, but Y'are an Ill-favour'd Mon­ster, and I scorn ye.

Mar [...]el.

No succour yet! no kind relieving Passenger!

Diego.

But now you shew your Sex in their true quality you more oblige me; I now can bluntly seize thee without wooing, and like a man claim Beauty as my due, pattern the noble Savages of old, when Woman, like the rest of other Females, patiently couch'd under the Male Prodominance; and since you are obstinate and stubborn, instruct the rest of men by my example.

Marcel.

What dost thou propose, oh, thou most abhorr'd?

Diego.

To make a Convert of thee— What a str [...]nge, coy, wild, impertinent, unnat [...]ral thing hast thou been hitherto, thou wo [...]est thy Eyes as if thou wert a Ba [...]ilisk, destroying others, still to please thy self; thou taughtst thy tongue to murder all thy Lovers by proud refusals— thy hands to tear their Letters, and thy feet to run away like an un­grateful Daphne, tho an Apollo followed.

Marcel.

'Tis my nature, born for my self; all men are my aversion.

Diego.

Then know, that I was born to new create thee; I will not have those Beauties lost through Pride, which Nature first intended for Injoyment; your Eyes shall learn to smile, your Lips to kiss, your Tongue to praise your Lover; Arms t' embrace him: I'll mould your body to a proper form, make every part about you do its office, and fit ye for the business of the world.

Marcel.

The Devil shall have you [...]irst.

Diego.

The Devil shall have me after, Child, as he and I agree upon't; but before hand I'll beg his Devilships pardon.

Marcel.

Oh, how I hate this fellow! What a rage I feel within my bosom glow against him? What! Shall I sue to any man for favour; I that have through the series of past years, made 'em the business of my jest and railery? Shall I submit and beg? I'll rather dye first.

Diego.
[Page 14]

I can but think how much [...]he case is altered; how many tediou [...] hours with downcast Eyes, pale Cheeks, a throbbing Heart, and Arms across, have I wa [...]ched a kind look of this Calisto, who now I can command—Come will you be kind and f [...]eely.

Marcel.

If, (as the word has always been a stranger to me, when it related to thy Sex) i [...] I [...]ould be kind, canst thou believe, oh thou foul Crimin [...]l, such words [...]s these could win me!

Diego.

Oons I have no Complements; all women have been spoil'd since men first us'd 'em. Kiss and Consent at first begot the Ioy; ' [...]was Sighs and [...]hinings bred the Pish and Fye— I will be fool'd no longer.

Strikes him.
Marcel.

Stand off rude Hell-hound, I yet have some defence; when Innocence fights, each Pin, each little Bodkin, will prove a Lance to wound the curst Assailer! Oh, [...]hou most vile of Creatures [...]hat is, (th [...]u man) dost thou belie [...] I wi [...] yield [...]amely to thee? No, I will make each Nail an E [...]gles Tal [...], my T [...]eth shall [...] thy Fl [...]sh, my Eyes shall blast thee; and in this noble [...]use, this lit [...]e Arm, in my defence, be like the Club of Hercu [...]s, thou worst of all Male Devils, Ravisher.—

Diego.

Oh, I shall coo [...] your Cou [...]age.

G [...]es to seize her.
Enter Am [...]rosio.
Ambrosio confronts him.
Ambr.

And I you [...]s Sir, I must make bold to interrupt you [...] sport a little, the Duke shall have no S [...]tyrs in his Family. Come, come, Sir, deliver me your Sword.

Diego.

My Sword? It must be this way then: [...]'m upon the forlorn hope, and so have at ye, Sir,

Fight and Ambro [...]io disarms him.
Marcel.

Ambrosio! He [...]vens! Is't he I am oblig'd to for thi [...] Succour! The Man of all [...]he World I've least deserv'd from— I'm so confounded with shame I cannot look on him.

Aside.
Ambr.

Now Villain, you shall obey in spite of ye; but more of that presently, first let's see the Woman— Hah, Marcella! Oh blind, blind Chance, Oh ill con [...]riving Fortune, thou knowest I hate the curst Cleft Tribe in general; and couldst thou 'mongst the rout of female mischiefs, find me no other to oblige but thi [...]! This worst of all [...]he Sex! This damning Eve, with not one only, but Legion of Serpents round her!

Marcel.

What do I feel! His words shoot through my heart, as if 'twere wounded with a Sheaf of Arrows; I am not angry neither to hear him rail, but chang'd so, that methinks I could hear more.

Ambr.

Oh thou dear Manes of my brave Friend Chrisostome, art thou not ang [...]y with thy poor Ambrosio whose ill plac'd stars maliciously com­pel him to vindicate the honour of thy Murdress?

Marcel.

Si [...]ce the good deed y' have don [...], cause 'twas for me▪ so much offends your thoughts, oblige us both, and kill me; for I can bear death better than your words. Kill me, and I am then ou [...] of your debt, and you reveng'd for Chrisostome.

Ambr.

No, live however, and (if a woman can) repe [...]t; for 'twe're [Page 15] damnation certain, now to kill thee; live therefore, but let me see those baneful Eyes no more; lock from henceforth those Ignes Fatui up, that lead men wandring into Bogs and Ditches; veil 'em I say, that I agen may never be troubled to defend your Caterwawling; a creature that can purr, and [...]hen can squeak, that scratching can repulse the eager Lover, and yet be prompt and willing to inge [...]der: Away, there's counsel for ye. Come, Sir, now march before me; something remains for you too—go on.

Diego.

Had I but done the deed I had not car'd.

Exeunt.
Manet Marcella.
Marcel.

Yet thou art brave: Oh Heaven what shall I do to pay the Debt of Gratitude I owe thee; what a forlorn and miserable Wretch had I been but for thee! Oh I am lost! What Beauty, Riches or the Gloss of Honour, with all th' allurements never could subdue, is con­quer'd by this great, this generous Action: My Heart is melting, and a new strange passion fills all my bosom, that firm resolute will, that stood unshock'd to the deserts of Chrisostome, is wholly Captive to the brave Ambrosio. In vain is Art or Obstinacy now.

In vain does weakned Force resist the stronger;
The Fort's o're-pow'r'd, and can hold ou [...] no longer.
Exit.

SCENE II.

Enter Duke, Cardenio and Mannel.
Duke.

Is the Doctor ready with his disguise for Merlin.

Man.

He has be [...]n drest this hour my Lord; the Page too is perfect in his part of Dulcinea; we only wait my Lady D [...]tchesses coming back, who is gone after the Hawk the back side of the Wood—And then we shall begin the Comedy.

Carden.

The Knight and the Parson are still in hot argument yonder; the Cassock and the Helmet are at mortal odds; the Church Militant scorns to truckle to the Camp, he'll not ask him pardon, he says, tho all the Knights of the Round Table were by to back him.

Duke.

I took this opportunity of slipping from 'em, to take-breath a little, and laugh by my self—See here they come, away Mannel to your Fellows, and assoon as ever it begins to be dark do as I've order'd.

Man.

We'll be punctual as the minute, my Lord.

Enter Don Quixote and Bernardo.
Duke.

Well, Chaplain, is the business reconcil'd; have you done Ju­stice to this noble Knight?

Bern.

I profess, I think I have, I have told him plainly he is a Mad­man, and have conscientio [...]sly propos'd to him a certain remedy

Don Q.
[Page 16]

I have not told you yet, that a Clergyman may be a Bl [...]ck­head, tho I may suppose it, only to shew the different manners betwixt my Function and yours.

Carde [...].

Nay, if the Swo [...]d and the Gown can agree no better, we are like to see but an ill Reformation.

Duke.

Once more, I say, ask him pardon Bernardo.

Bern.

For what my Lord, I profess, I begin to fear, he has infected your Grace with [...]is own distemper.

Du [...]e.

Ha, ha, ha, ha,— He'll call me Fool presently.

Be [...]n.

For me that have swallowed and digested Sciences, as common as Loins of Mutton, to aff [...]ont Lear [...]ing so vilely, to compare with one that's ignorant of all— A downright Madman.

Don Q.

Good words, Priest, g [...]od words, did Religion teach you to be rude, Sir Cassock? Besides▪ to shew I am not so ignorant, as you'd make me, know I have learnt the Sci [...]nces—and made a [...]dition to excel your Gown by one much better than [...]he rest, Knight Errantry.

Bern.

That a Science, oh ri [...]iculous, [...]harkee; prithee prepare thy brains a little, to answer me one question.

Duke.

Ay, now they buckle to't.

Bern.

What's a Knight Errant good for?

Don Q.

Every thing: He that is honoured with that Function under­stands a Science that contains in't all the rest, which thus I make appear. First, He must be skill'd in the Law, to know Justice distributive and commutative, to do [...]ight to every one: He must be a Divine, to know how to give a reason clearly of his Christia [...] Profession: He must be a Physician, and chiefly an Herbalist, to know in a Wilderness or Desar [...], what Herbs have vertue to cure Wounds; for you [...] Knight Errant must not be looking out every pissing while for a Surgeon to heal him: He must be an Astronomer, to know in the night what a Clock 'tis by the Sta [...]s: He must be also a Ma [...]hematician, and principally a good Cook, because it may very often happen, he may have occasion to dress his own Dinner. Nor should he only be ador [...]'d wi [...]h all divine and moral ver­tues, but he must descend to Machanicks also; for he must know how to shoe a Horse, to mend a S [...]ddle, to soal a Boo [...], to dearn a Stocking, to stitch a Doublet; and in short, to do all things that reason can ima­gine. And all these things, and as many more, is your Knight Errant good for.

Ca [...]d.

What say to this, my good Divinity Teacher; methinks the Knight has given ye a very fair accompt of his F [...]nction.

Don Q.

And now I have answered his question, I think 'tis but rea­sona [...]le to ask him one: I demand of hi [...] [...]hen, and put it fairly to his Co [...]cience, I say, I desire to know of him— What a Chaplain's good for?

Duke.

By my troth a shrewd question.

Card.

And p [...]t home too, as the case now stands.

Bern.
[Page 17]

Oh sinful Caitiff, is that a question to be asked in these religi­ous times: Come, come, I'll tell thee that presently— Humh, good for? Why in the first place, let me see, What's a Chaplain good for? Oh, now I have it; why all the serious part of the world must allow that.

They laugh

Humh— What's a Chaplain good for? Well, I profess I was ne're so puzzled in all my life.

Chaplain offers to speak, and they hinder him.
Carden.

Ay, 'tis plain now, the cause is lost, the Chaplain's con­founded, he has not a word to say for himself, ha, ha, ha.

Duke.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, Eagerness and Rage have so choak'd him, he has no utterance—Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Bern.

What am I become a jest, fye my Lord, where is the decency, where is the sagacity! Oh strange this is very unseemly— And I'll be gone lest choler arise, and I exceed the bounds of discretion: Oh, my Lord this is very unseemly.

Exit.
Duke.

Now will he be musty this month, and we shan't get a word from him.

Don Q.

Hah, what dreadful sounds are these.

Horrid Sounds are heard within.
Card.

Most wonderful!

A Noise like a Womans Shreeks.
Duke.

Oh yonder are the Lights, I see they are coming.

To Card.
Don Q.

That last to me seemd like the cry of women, this may be some Adventure worth my notice.

Enter Dutchess, Luscinda, Rodriguez, and Sancho, as frighted.
Dutch.

Oh save me, my Lord, save me.

Duke.

How now, for Heavens sake what's the matter!

Embr. her.
Lusc.

The Wood's all in a Flame, a thousand Spirits are in't, and all coming this way, oh—What will become of us?

Rodr.

One of 'em made me shreek so loud with a fright, that I'm sure I could not be louder, if I were to be ravished.

Sancho.

All Hell is broke loose yonder! There are Devils a foot, and Devils in Coaches, and Devils of all sorts, shapes and sizes, oh! Where's this plaguy Chaplain now; I never had such a mind to pray in my life? Fly, fly, good Sir, oh gadzooks, they'll be here in a twinkling.

Don Q.

Why let 'em come, stand by me and fear nothing.

Horrid noise again.
Duke.

This is something more than natural, and I confess amazes me.

Enter Mannel disguis'd like a Devil, blowing a Horn.
Lusc.

Save us ye powers—What horrid thing is this?

Duke.

I'll speak to't, for by Don Quixotes side, how terrible soe're it be I cannot fear, speak thou frightful Vision— What art thou—

Man.

I am a Devil.

Duke.

Lucifer?

Man.

No, his Butler; I fill up molten Lead in Cups of Agat to all the Wretches that are damn'd for drinking.

Card.
[Page 18]

What dost thou from thy Office then, and whither art thou going?

Man.

My Master now has lent me out to Merlin, Prince of the In­chanters, who is coming yonder, bringing the Princess Dulcinea del To­boso with him inchanted, and I am sent before to seek a famous Knight they call Don Quixote de la Mancha, to tell him how the Princess may be freed.

Don Q.

If thou wert a Devil of Parts and Understanding, thou wouldst have known without my information, that I am Don Quixote.

Man.

By my Conscience and Soul, Sir, I think you are, and I beg your Pardon with all my heart, but I was so busied in my several cogi­tations, that I forgot the chief, as I hope to be sav'd.

Sancho.

Gadzooks, I am not half so much afraid now as I was, this Devil seems to be a very honest fellow, and I'll warrant him a good Christian, because he swears by his Soul and Conscience; but yet he makes me laugh to talk of Dulcinea's Inchantment, ha, ha, ha— Mum for that, I'm sure I know the trick of that better than any Devil of 'em all.

Aside.
Man.

Prepare thy self therefore, oh most renown'd, for here they come, clear, clear thy Eyes from dust, and pick thy ears, that thou may'st take the secrets with attention; nor be thou daunted; for Mer­lin holds thee well—I can no more, the rest himself will tell.

Exit blowing his Horn.
Don. Q.

I see impertinence is a vice amongst those in the other world as well as this, this foolish Spirit might have spar'd his bidding me not be daunted, if he had known how to manage a Speech wisely.

Duke.

The Butler was in the right, Sir, here comes more of the Devils Officers.

Don Q.

Let him send all his Family, my Lord, I know how to an­swer 'em, I'll warrant ye—

Musick sounds, and then a Dance of Spirits is performed, which ended the Scene opens, and discovers Pedro drest like Merlin, and Page like Dul­cinea, sitting in a Chariot.
Pedro.

I come, O valiant Knight, to let the see, tho all the rest of sage Inchanters hate thee, that Merlin is thy Friend; here is thy Mistriss inchanted to a soul rude Country Dowdy by the malice of thy cruel Foe Lyrgander, and if thou seest her now beauteous as formerly, 'tis through my present grace, and to move pity in those that are con­cern'd to disinchant her, for she must turn to her vile shape again till the curst Spell be ended, which to perform observe my words with care, and listen to what the destinies ordain.

Don Q.

Most reverently, and in all humble duty, I thank the graci­ous Merlin for his Clemency.

Sancho.
[Page 19]

What a plague have I been in a dream then all this while; and when I thought I had fooled others, am I a Fool my self, and is she really inchanted after all.

Dutch.

Now is Sancho at his wits end to know, whither he may be­lieve his Eyes and Ears, or no.

Luscin.

But his Master there is wholly transported, the Lady Dulci­nea's fair eyes have enchanted him more than she is by the Magician Lyr­gander, ha, ha, ha.

Card.

Softly, sweet Love, they'll hear ye.

Sancho.

Why a man shant be sure, that he has his own Nose on at this rate; I would have laid my Earldom that I am to have to a Cu­cumber, that I had enchanted her my self, and now Mr. Merlin there makes it out, that it was done before▪ Gadzooks I believe we are a [...] enchanted, and Swarms of Devils like G [...]ats and Flies are buzzing in every corner.

Don Q.

Peace Babbler, eternal Mill-Clack, let your Clapper lye still a while, that the great Merlin may unfold himself.

Duke.

We have had the Prologue to't already, he has strok'd his Beard three times—now one good sound hem— and we have it.

Pedro▪ speaking with a grave and loud voice.
If Dulcinea, from an ugly Creature,
Would be transform'd to this her former feature,
The Powers, who now her Beauty do r [...]tain,
To free her from the Curse, do thus ordain;
That Sancho shall three thousand Lashes give
Sancho starts, and looks dismay'd.
Himself; and them on Buttocks bare receive:
This done, from her Inchantment shall relieve her;
But not perform'd, she shall be charm'd for ever.
Don Q.

A thousand Blessings fall on Merlins Tongue, that like an O­racle has now deliver'd these happy sounds—Oh Sancho, Brother Sancho, or how shall I stile thee, to express my self more tenderly; my Son, my Friend, how am I overjoy'd to know that thou art to be the glori­ous means of Dulcinea's freedom; for now I reckon it as good as finish'd▪

Sancho.

Oh not too fast, good Sir; there's a great deal to be said up­on this matter yet; An old Ape has an old Eye: I know well enough Mr. Merlin has ow'd me an ill will ever since the Cage business, and now thinks to revenge himself upon my Buttocks for't; but 'tis all one, fore­warn'd, fore-arm'd, better a fair pair of heels, than dye at the Gallows; tho I han't an ounce of Brains I may have a drachm—I can tell that four and five make nine, tho I am no Conjurer.

Don Q.

Oh prithee sheath, sheath up thy Proverbs now if [...]hou lov'st me, and prepare thy self to disenchant the Princess, dear Sancho.

Sancho.

Ay now 'tis dear Sancho, now you have occasion for my But­tocks 'tis dear Sancho; but just now I was a Babbler, a Mill-clack, and every foot a Hound, a Vermin, and I know not what; therefore I'gad Ile make much of one, good men are scarce, the Hound shall have more [Page 20] wit than to l [...]sh himself, Ile tell ye but that.

Don Q.

How's this! Darst thou provoke my Rage by a Denial?

Duke.

Consider what you owe to the merits of your Master, Sancho that sure must soften your hard heart.

Carden.

And to the Princess too—his Soul, his better part, from whose benign and wonderful Influence, all honours must arise.

Dutch.

'Tis but three thousand Lashes— and alas—what are those.

Sancho.

Alas those are nothing, I warrant nothing;

Sancho mimicks her.

[...]ut if your Ladyships render hide were to disenchant some body at this [...]te, I believe you would be glad to bate some of those. Oons does your Grace believe my Buttocks are made of Buckskin?

Luscind.

Realiy 'tis great pity the world should be depriv'd of such an excellent Beauty, and I am very certain that generous Sancho will quick­ly relent, and willingly sacrifice his Backside to end the Inchantment.

Sancho.

Why there's another now, I warrant that squeaking Devil could fla [...]g a man to death by her good will. Why what a plague has my generous Backside to do with Inchantments?

Mimicking her.

or why must I be oblig'd to demolish the Beauty of my Backside, to re­cover the Beauty of her Face; 'tis my Masters business I think, and since he is to enjoy the one, let him take the tother along too, for my part Ile have nothing to do with it.

Page as for Dulcinea.

Is it then possible, thou Soul of Lead, thou Mar­ble-breasted Rocky-hearted Squire, that thou shouldst boggle at such easie penance, to do thy Lord and me so great a favour? Hadst thou been doom'd to eat a hundred Toads, three thousand Lizzards or a peck of Vipers, to sheer thy Eye lids, flea thy Head and Face, or broyl thy self three hours upon a Grid-Iron, this ha [...] [...]een something for thee to refuse; but since the thing impos'd is but a flauging, a punishment each paultry School-boy laughs at, and which each rampant antiquated Sin­ner chooses for Pleasure; this to deny, especially when the performance would retrieve my Beauty, supple my Skin, and make this Olive-co­lour'd face as fair as now it seems, is a Barbarity unpardonable, and the World will hate thee for't.

Don Q.

And let thy sweetness know, that he shall do't, tho he could herd with a young brood of Giants, fierce as the old that combated with Iove— Harkee, Rascal, Garlick-eater, I will tye thee naked to a Tree, and instead of the three thousand Lashes give thee six, and each of those six inches deep, if I but hear thee breathe another word like a refusal.

Takes hold of Sancho, who trembles.
Pedro.

Hold, noble Knight, thou errst, that must not be, for the great powers have order'd the Pennance done must not be forc'd but willingly.

Sancho.

Why then every one as you were, and face about to the right again; God a mercy for that i'faith Master Merlin.

Getting from Don Quixote

Lookee, Sir, there's no more to be said, you hear what [Page 21] the grand powers have ordered: Come, come, 'tis ill shaving against the hair; the wearer best knows where the Shoe wrings him; besides you know the old saying, Scratch my back, and I'll claw your elbow; there's nothing to be done but by fair means, think of that, Sir.

Don Q.

Why then a thousand times begging thy pardon, Sancho, I do intreat thy favour in this business.

Sancho.

Humh—humh—intreat my favour.

Don Q.

Consider friend our future rise depends on the performance; for wanting her influence I can be no Emperor, nor thou no Governor, which i [...] once done I promise thee within a month at farthest.

Sancho.

Why, ay, Sir, this is something now — but yet three thou­sand Lashes, humh—

Duke.

Nay, as to that, if Sancho be so generous to disinchant the Lady, he shall not stay so long to have a Government, for I have now an Island at his service.

Card.

Oh fortunate Sancho, Oh most happy Squire, I shall be proud to wait on him.

D [...]ch.

And I.

Lusc.

And all of us.

Sancho.

Ay marry Sir, now you sound well indeed, there's no squeak­ing in this Bagpipe; why 'tis a wonderful thing to think now, how be­nefits have power to alter resolutions, and how merrily an Ass will trip it up Hill that's laden with Gold and Jewels; methinks I am strangely alter'd on the sudden, and am not so averse to this Lashing as before.

Don Q.

Well, are things yet according to thy wish, a [...]t thou now satisfied, that by my means, thou shalt become a Governor, does thy heart yet relent?

Sancho.

It does, Sir, and you may see it in my Eyes.

weeping

You may find by me too, that he that is obstinate wears his Coat soonest thredbare, and folly may hinder a man of many a good turn. I beseech ye, Sir, to pardon my Proverbs, and thank the Duke there for his noble favour, which I do now resolve to deserve by my speedy disenchanting the Lady Dulcinea, who yet e're morning shall find her business much better'd, if my Buttocks can be but in humour.

Don Q.

There spoke my Brother, my Right hand▪ my Genius.

Duke.

The Islands name is Barataria—and here I do declare before ye all, Don Sancho is the Governour.

Omn.

Long live the Governour of the Island Barataria.

Pedro.

'Tis well, and more to celebrate this hour, I by my Art will show how I approve it.

[Page 22]Pedro waves his Wand, then here is perform'd this Song sung by a Milkmai [...] ▪ and followed by a Dance of Milkmaids.
SONG.
I.
YE Nymphs and Sylvan Gods,
That Love Green Fields and Woods▪
When Spring newly born,
Her self does adorn,
With Flowers and Blooming Buds;
Come Sing in the praise,
Whilst Flocks do graze
In yonder pleasant Vale,
Of those that choose
Their sleeps to lose,
And in cold Dews,
With clouted Shooes,
Do carry the Milking Pail.
II.
The Goddess of the Morn,
With blushes they adorn,
And take the fresh Air;
Whilst Linnets prepare
A Consort on each green Thorn,
The Ousle and Thrush,
On every Bush;
And the Charming Nightingal;
In merry Vain,
Their Throats do strain,
To entertain
The Iolly train
That carry the Milking Pail.
III.
When cold bleak Winds do Roar,
And Flow'rs can spring no more,
The Fields that were seen,
So pleasant and green,
By winter all Candy'd o're,
Oh! how the Town Lass,
Looks with her white Face,
And her Lips of deadly Pale:
But it is not so,
With those that go,
Through Frost and Snow,
With Cheeks that glow,
And carry the Milking Pail.
IV.
The Miss of Courtly [...]ould,
Adorn'd with Pearl and Gold,
With washes and Paint,
Her Skin does so Taint,
She's wither'd before She's old,
Whilst She in Commode,
Puts on a Cart-load;
And with Cushions plumps her Tayl;
What Ioys are found,
In Russet Gown,
Young, Plump and Round,
And sweet and sound,
That carry the Milking Pail▪
V.
The Girls of Venus game,
That venture Health and Fame,
In practising Feats,
With Colds and with Heats,
Make Lovers grow Blind and Lame;
If Men were so Wise,
To value the prize,
Of the Wares most fit for sale,
What store of Beans,
Wou'd dawb their Cloaths,
To save a Nose,
By following those
That carry the Milking Pail.
Carden.
[Page 24]

Merlin is pleas'd at Sancho's condescension, which he has drovd by this strange Entertainment.

Don Q.

And Dulcinea smil'd most radiantly.

Luscind.

And at her going made a low bow to Sancho.

Duke.

Come Governour, now let us home to Supper, where we'll confer about some publick matters relating to your Charge.

Dutch.

Take heed you are not cruel, our Islanders will ne're endure a Tyrant.

Sancho.

Oh let me alone for that Madam, I'll be as mild as a Milch Cow: I have nothing rough about me but my Beard.

Thus goes the World Sirs, many must fall low,
[...]hilst others rise up high;
Many get Governments the Lord knows how,
And so Gadzooks have I.
Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Marcella walks over the Stage pensively.
Afterwards Enter Cardenio and Ambrosio.
Card.
— SO Cynthia rose amidst the Myrtle Grove,
Speaking as Mar­cella passes by.
Like the Queen Mother of the Stars above.

Oh, dear Ambrosio, good morrow to thee, what you come from seeing Execution done upon Diego?

Ambr.

I have seen him soundly whipt, and turn'd our of his Employ­ment this morning.

Card.

Insolent▪ Villain! was there no one to attacque but the chief Beauty of our Groves, the Glory of the Plains, and Darling of the Shepherds, the admir'd Marcella. Leandro her Father it seems was there too, who, I hear, has made a particular Suit to the Duke about his Daughter.

Ambr.

Your Intelligence is good, Sir.

Card.

My Intelligence is good? Why, how now Friend, art thou grown resty, is that all, to say my Intelligence is good? nay, then you shall find my Intelligence is better; for I heard a Bird sing, that the old Man, weighing your late b [...]ave action done for her, and knowing you to be the Dukes kinsman, has made an offer of his Daughter for a Wife for you.

Ambr.

So S [...]r.

Card.
[Page 25]

So, Sir, I gad, and I think very well too Sir, what a Pox ails thee? Why thou art as musty, as if thou hadst been offer'd a Witch without a Portion, or dost thou banter me with a fit of dissimulation? Hah, come, come, Sir, welcome your happy Planet with smiles, Plato, Socrates and Aristotle are good Companions when a man has an Estate, but horribly dull and phlegmatick fellows when the Assets are wanting.

Ambr.

Very well, Sir.

Card.

Thou art the Duke's Relation, and I know he loves thee, and will do very well for thee, but still a fortune of thy own making is more honourable, and I know Leanardo dotes on his sine Daughter, and will give her a world of Wealth; nor is his Family to be despis'd for all he fancies a rural Life among the Shepherds, he being, as I'm inform'd, lineally descended from the noble Cid Ruy diaz.

Ambr.

And what of all this, Sir?

Card.

What of all this? Why then thou'rt a happy fellow, I think to have the prospect of enjoying so sweet a Creature with so plentiful a Fortune: Yet what most surprises me is, to hear that her sudden Love to thee, has quite alter'd her nature, and she that from her Infancy was noted for th' most reserved and coy of all her Sex, now talks of Love, blushes, sings amorous Sonnets, and lives quite contrary to her former custom.

Ambr.

So let her live, prithee why dost thou trouble me with the recital of a Womans follies; their Wiles, their Mischief [...], and their Protean Changes I know too well already; I am as well skill'd in the Philosophy of that damning Sex as e're was Aretine, and hate 'em as he did, with such a rancour, that I have an Odium even for her that bore me, for being female in her generation; if thou wouldst please me say the plague's amongst 'em.

But he that bids me for a Wife prepare,
Is forming the worst Hell, and fixing of me there Ex.
Card.

What the Devil ails him? the young fellow's bewitch'd I think, I thought he came hither on purpose to follow her, for I'm sure I saw her go down that walk just know — But since 'tis otherwise, I'm certain she must meet him, and then a kind word, and a sweet look or two I warrant willsoon convert him from his Heresie.

Enter Page.
Page.

My Lord Duke has been looking for ye, Sir, this hour, he's now in the Hall with the Dutchess, ready to see the second Exploit which we are going to banter Don Quixote with, which is the Adven­ture of the Countess Trifaldi; if you intend to laugh, Sir, come away for we are just going to begin.

Card.

I'll follow thee; the Jest must needs be excellent.

Exeunt
Re-enter Ambrosio and Marcella following
Ambr.

Was ever man so teiz'd with what he hated, the more I shun the Plague, the more I am infected, how dar'st thou follow me?

Marc.

What dares not Courage do? I am in your debt, Sir, and [Page 26] like a generous Bankrupt am so honest I cannot rest, nor harbour any quiet till I have made repayment.

Ambr.

By tor [...]uring me, is that the way Tormentor!

Marc.

Heavens can you talk of tortures I being here, that undergo the greatest that are possible: Is there a greater torture for a woman, than to suppress her humnour, vail her Pride which she sometimes calls Modesty, and be forc'd, blushing beneath a thousand thousand shames, to curse her Stars like me, and own she loves.

Ambr.

Why then Antipodes to Amity, dost thou pretend to Love?

Marc.

Oh that thy tongue were a sharp pointed Dagger to wound my heart, that it might bleed an answer, as it does now my—Soul when it compels me to answer yes— I do.

Ambr.

What me, is't me thou lovest, speak sweet damnation.

Marc.

I will not speak, thou Devil!— Gods what am I doing— Oh—give me back one minute of my past strength, that I may have the pleasure but of railing a little at him, and 'twill be heaven to me; where does thy Witchcraft lye, thou Sorcerer, in thy eyes, thy tongue, or in what other part? Tell me, that I may tear the fatal Charm, and give my poor tormented Soul some ease.

Ambr.

Hey, Fits, Eruptions! This is woman right now, there's now a Legion of Cub Devils within her, that tumble up and down and make her mad.

Marc.

Forgive me, Sir, these strange effects of passion, these stub­born weeds, which I will now endeavor to root out and demolish.

Ambr.

That was a flattering Feind now; soft and moving to make us think she is a Foe to Pride.

Marc.

I have seem'd proud, Sir, but 'twas all Hypocrisy, which Pa­tience and warm pursuing had discovered, as now your Charms have done, and made me flexible.

Ambr.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, now dearest Chrisostome look down and smile to see the Victim offered to revenge thee.

SONG.
I.
DAmon let a Friend advise ye,
Follow Cloris tho she flies ye,
Tho her Tongue your Suit is slighting,
Her kind Eyes you'll find inviting:
Womens Rage▪ like shallow Water,
Does but shew their hurtless Nature;
When the Stream seems rough and frowning,
There is still least fear of drowning.
II.
Let me tell the advent'rous Stranger,
In our calmness lyes our danger;
Like a River's silent Running,
Stillness shew, our Depth and Cunning:
She that rails ye into Trembling,
Only shews her fine Dissembling;
But the Fawner to abuse ye,
Thinks ye Fools, and so will use ye.
Ambr.

A well tun'd Devil this, oh she has great variety —

Marc.

There are a thousand frailties in our Sex which every day and hour succeed each other, uncertain natures with uncertain Passions, sway'd by the Ebb and Flowings of our Blood by Seasons, as the Tide is by the Moon; like Rowers we look one way—move another.

Sooth with our Tongues to make Mankind obey,
But scarely ever think the things we say.
Ambr.

Go on, for now thou'rt on a Theme that pleases me, rail at thy Sex, and I will hear with patience, nay help thee onwards thus— Even from your Infancy you shew the Serpent in your perverse natures. cry for each Bawble, then powt and be sullen: The stubborn Curse grows as 'twere seededin ye, and springs unculter'd from the first original.

Marc.

We very often shew a bud, 'tis true of mischeifs, that bloom out in riper years.

Ambr.

Why that's honnestly own'd, and shews thou hast some con­science, prithee proceed; come to the Girl of ten.

Marc.

Her cheif delight is, e're she can be one, to be thought a wo­man; she always stands on Tiptoes, and her hand is never from her Breasts to make 'em grow.

Ambr.

Right again, right dear Sin breeder, very right—proceed.

Marc.

Boys of her own age she hates mortally, but still extremely pleas'd when men accost her; to call her Miss is an affront unpardon­able; but tell her she's grown tall and fit to marry you win her heart, then you shall see her smicker, and make a thousand silly apish faces, to let you see how well she understands ye.

Ambr.

Young Crocodiles, but go on thou incomparable Orator, thou Cice [...]o in Petticoats, prithee, go on— Come to their Womanhood, their Pride of eighteen, and so to one and twenty; what are they the [...] thou Sibill?

Marc.

He rallies me, this base invective pleases him.

Aside.

Then—Why then they are a second Race of Angels—The greatest Blessings Heaven e're gave Mankind.

Angrily to him.
Ambr.

Aw— nay if thou flagg'st to thy old course I hate thee: come I'll refresh thy Genius with a scrap of Poetry I lately met with in an honest Satyr, that suits exactly with the present Theme.

[Page 28]
At fourteen Years young Females are contriving Tricks to tempt ye,
At sixteen Years come on and woo, and take of Kisses plenty;
At eighteen Years full grown and ripe, they're ready to content ye;
At nineteen sly and mischievous, but the Devil at one and twenty.

There, there's a Poetical touch now to inspire thee; come, prithee go on now.

Marc.

Oh Heaven, he makes me his meer jest, and I ungratefully have been exposing my Sex to entertain his vanity.

Amb.

Nay, either rail quickly or I'll be gone, I have no other busi­ness with thee.

Marc.

Yes, thou insulting Monster, I will rail, but it shall be at thee, thou seed of Rocks, unnatural Brute, thou shame of all that call them­selves of humane race.

Ambr.

Thou Woman.

Marc.

Have I been from my Infancy ador'd, my Person been he Idol of thy Sex, and drawn more worshippers than often Heaven it self, to pay Devotion to my Beauty's Altar; and is it possible that thy humanity can so degenerate, to think me—

Amb.

Woman.

Marc.

Reject a joy too precious for thy hopes, and barbarously use me like—

Amb.

A Woman— Woman, that I could wish with all her kind were doom'd to stand in one great field of Flax, and I had power to set it on a blaze. Remember Chrisostome, [...]here, there's the cause

That 'twixt thy Sex and me breeds endless jar,
And for'whose sake I shall till death abhor.
Exit.
Marc.

Do: But yet e're thy death, I beg the powers divine, thou mayst find one, one Woman, to give thee as little rest as thou hast left me now; for I shall never never rest agen: Racks, Poyson, Flames, Halters, and Cutting Swords, I long methinks, I long to use ye all; this comes of being coy, and of dissembling.

All stubborn Maids, let my Example guide,
Henceforth ne're sacrifice your Love to Pride:
Take whilst you can the kind deserving he,
Lest in Refusing, you Repent like me.

SCENE II.

Enter Duke, Don Quixote, Dutchess, Luscinda, Cardenio and Rodriguez.
Don Q.

Your Grace has here a very pleasant Prospect, the Landskip fill'd with sweet variety; and then the Sea at distance near that Cham­pian, makes the view more delightful.

Duke.

A seat for sports, Sir, during the Summer season, I hope your [Page 29] Valour rested well to night Sir: How fares the noble Governour of Ba­rataria too? have you seen him this morning?

Don Q.

Not yet my Lord, which in some little measure causes my wonder.

Dutch.

Oh you must consider Sir, the task he has undertaken; his zeal perhaps to disenchant your Lady speedily, might make him lash himself so much last night, as may require him to rest more i'th' morn­ing. But see here he comes.

Carden.

Your Grace has found the Reason, it must be so.

Lusc.

Mrs. Rodriguez there tells me he has been writing a Letter to his Wife this morning, to inform her of his change of fortune, and invite her to his Government.

Rodrig.

He write it, I beg your pardon, good Madam, I told ye the Stewards Clerk writ it for him; for his part poor Peasant he can nei­ther Write nor Read; he'll make a rare Governour.

Duke.

Oh never the worse for that, Mrs. Rodriguez, the essential part of a Governour is Judgment.

Dutch.

And Rodriguez I'd advise you to take care how you vilifie him Sancho is very satyrical —and there's an old grudge depending between ye, about Dapple you may remember, here he comes, we shall now have an Accompt of his Letter and the rest.

Enter Sancho.
Don Q.

How does my Friend, my Intimate, for since the Duke has honoured thee, and the Fates have ordain'd thee to do me such a signal Courtesy, 'tis fit I take thee into the List of Friends: Well, and how go matters, hah—troth thau look st lean upon't, I'm afraid thou hast overjerked thy self; no don't do so neither— Dear Sancho, come prithee tell me how many hundred hah.

Sancho.

Hundred, Sir, hold a blow there a little, sost and fair goes far, and let him that owns the Cow take her by the Tail, 'tis easy to be prodigal at another mans cost. Oons dee think a Governour has but one business in's head at a time— Charity, Master mine, begins at home, you know, and ever while you live, christen your own Child first; I have be [...]n cudgelling my brains all this night about writing a Letter to my Wife Teresa, and my Daughter Mary, (pray heaven she don' [...] dye of a fit when she hears she must come away and be a Coun­tess) so that betwixt one and t' other, as concerning the Lashes, to be plain with ye, I could give my self but five of the three thousand yet.

Don Q.

But five, oh unreasonable Hang-dog, my Lord Duke did your Grace ever hear such a pitiful sneaking Accompt.

Duke.

I faith, Friend Sancho, five was too few of all conscience.

Card.

'Tis a palpable affront to the Princess, five hundred had been too few.

Sancho.

Dee hear, pray Friend, will you meddle with your own matters, go too there's many will shuffle the Cards that won't play, and I beseech your Grace consider me rightly, I'll make my Master full amends [Page 30] another time, for tho the [...] were but five, yet they were laid on with my hand, and with a thumping good will I promise ye.

Dutch.

Blows with a hand, Friend Gove [...]nour, are rather Claps than Lashes, and yours, I see there, is so soft, that I fear the sage Merlin will hardly accept of such effeminate discipline.

Sancho.

Why then, if your Grace pleases to provide me a good Holly-bush against night, I will so fegue my Buttocks before morning, that you shall say I have earn'd my Government I'll warrant ye, and I pro­pose this the more willingly, because I intend to enter upon't to mor­row, as my Lord Duke has promis'd.

Lusc.

That indeed, Madam, may do something to the purpose.

Dutch.

Dee hear, Rodriguez — Let there be such a Bush got ready.

Rodr.

What means your Grace, I beseech ye consider my place, and what I officiate in; and since lashing the Buffoon is necessary, let some of the fellows of the Stable exercise him with a Horse Whip.

Sancho.

Marry gep goody Sock-mender, what you are too good are ye— Well from the Conscience of an old Bawd, and the Pride of a fusty Waiting-woman, good Lord deliver me. If I had desir'd ye to lead my Dapple after me to my Government, how you would have cock'd up your Nose, I warrant.

Rod.

What Creatures of that course kind, what Asses are ever used to go to Governments, thou unpollish'd Animal.

Sancho.

Why, thou Pomatum Pot, didst never hear of an Ass that went to a Government in thy life—Ah pox on thee, where hast thou been bred.

Duke.

Oh a hundred, a hundred, the grand Sancho speaks but reason.

Dutch.

What noise is this?

Drum beats within, and Trumpet sound.
Don Q.

The sound is dismal, and it seems to me, as if some strange Adventure were at hand.

Card.

It must be so, see here they come upon us.

Card.

Some Embassy to the great Don Quixote without doubt.

Sancho.

A plague on their Embassy, who e're they are, I don't like their coming at this time— If this Adventure now should put any stop to my Government—I should make bold to wish their long nos'd Embassador hang'd there.

Enter two with Drum and Fife sounding hoarsly, and marching solemnly o're th Stage; then Enter Pedro disguis'd like a Chinese, with great Whiskers, and a large long Crooked Nose on his Face, leading in Mannel drest antickly in a long Robe, with three Skirts held up by three Pages and veil'd, attended by four Waiting Women veyl'd and drest antickly, then 4 Anticks in s [...]veral shapes, bearing a Table, on which stands the Figure of a large Golden Head; they go round the Stage, and then the Table and Head being plac'd in the mid­dle they dance, then Pedro advances to the Duke and speaks.
Pedro.

Most noble Prince, you must be pleased to know, that in the flourishing Kingdom of Candaya, I am known by the Name of Pierre [...] [Page 31] the hardy, otherwise called the Knight of the Roman Nose▪ only Bro­ther to the Countess Trifaldi, otherwise called the afflicted Matron: The Lady you see yonder, who in her prosperity, was cheif Lady, or Waiting woman, to the Queen Dona Magunsia, Dowager to King Archi­piello, and from his Territories, thus far is come to kiss your mighty hands, and your fair Dutchesses, and to intreat a favour.

Duke.

Thrice worthy Knight—Your self and the good Countess are most welcom.

Dutch.

And tell her Sir, if any griefs oppress her, we shall be very glad to bring her comfort.

Pedro.

Your Beauty is most generous: but e [...]e I proceed to that, I must desire to know, whether the valorous and invincible Knight Don Quixot de la Mancha be in your Castle, in whose search principally, to say the truth, she comes.

Duke.

Tell her then likewise noble Pierres, that here is the valiant Knight Don Q [...]ixot, from whose generous condition, she may safely promise herself all courtesy and assistance.

Pedro.

Then, blest be our happy Stars—I will inform her instantly.

Card.

Oh admirable function of Knight Errantry, beyond all other happy!

Lusc.

Oh Vertue excellent, to whom Ladies come from the remotest Regions of the Earth, to sue for succour.

Duke.

Secure in his strong Arm and never failing Valour.

Don Q.

Now I could wish my Lord that prating Gownman, that dull Bag-pudding Priest, that lately rail'd at Chivalry—were by to see whither such Knights are necessary.

Duke.

Oh, a home bred Bookworm, you must not think of him. Nay Madam this must not be, we are your Servants all.

Dutch.

Your Merit claims respect, Madam, from every one, therefore pray sit by us, and please to unfold your Griefs.

The Trifaldi comes and kneels to the Duke, he takes her up, and he, and the Dutchess seat her in a Chair.
Man.

Illustrious Beauty, as soon as my full heart and faultring tongue will give me leave I shall: But in the first place, I must desire to know whether the most purifiediferous Don Quixote of the Manchissima and and his Squireiferous Panca be in this Company or no.

Sanc.

Why look ye forsooth without any more flourishes, the Go­vernour Panca is here, and Don Quixotissimo too, therefore most afflict­edissimous Matronissima speak what you willissimus, for we are all rea­dy to be your Servitorissimus.

Don Q.

Upon my honour straighten'd Lady, let me but know the tenor of your wrongs, they shall not want redress, and now you hear Don Quixot speak himself.

Man.

Art thou the Man? blest be that Madrid Phiz, those Tooth­less Jaws, and that way beaten Body, here at thy Feet I prostrate my nuworthiness to beg assistance from thy Magnanimity.

Don Q.
[Page]

Oh Madam, Madam, what do you mean? By my honour this must not be.

Raises her up.
Man.

And thou more Loyal Squire, than ever followed in past or present times, the ragged fortunes of so august and so renown'd a Ma­ster; thou second part of Errantry, longer in goodness th [...]n my Bro­thers Nose there; thus do I shake thy Fist and thus conjure thee to be [...]r thy part in my affair with willingness.

Sanc.

Why truly Mistriss, as to what you say, of my honesty in fol­lowing my Master—Ragged or not ragged, wet or dry, I think you are pretty right; but when you say my Goodness is longer than that Gen­tlemans Nose, there I must beg your pardon, Gadzooks 'tis a meer Complement, faith it comes short of that, I assure you.

Man.

Be pleased to know then, valorous and untamed Sir, that in the Queen Donna Maguncia's Court, I being Governess to the young Princess Antonomasia, and hindring her from marrying the Giant Malam­brurio, a great Inchanter; He to vent his rage more sensibly upon us, did it on our most tender part, our Faces, thatching our Chins as you may be­hold 'em, with these unseemly Beards and loathsome Bristles.

Duke.

'Tis wonderful!

They unveil themselves and shew their Faces all Bearded.
Dutch.

Beyond all thought amazing!

Lusc.

Th' Inchanter shew'd his Malice to the height.

Card.

To make a Witch of a Woman before she comes to be fifty, is very hard.

Sancho feels one of the Beards.
Sancho.

The hair is plaguy fast set on; the Inchanter as ye call him has bearded 'em with a vengeance; why this would undo the poor De­vils in a little time: if they'r inclin'd to be cleanly they'l spend all their Portions in one year, only in paying for their shaving.

Don. Q.

How my blood boyls against this dam'd Inchanter! for I perceive now this disgrace of theirs is done in spite to me, he knows I hate a Woman with a Beard—and now has plagu'd me with 'em in a Cluster.

Man.

But see how harmless Innocence gets Friends; we were no sooner bearded, as you see; but to our wonder, in the place appears this golden head, charm'd with prophetick speech by the great Merlin, who bid us instantly travel into Spain to find Don Quixot, and with him his Sword and Buckler Sancho Panca, in whose renowned presence, he would discover the remedy to ease us of our shames— This is our dismal story, and thus far are we come fam'd Knight in quest of you, and least you doubt the truth of my relation, question the head, and you will then know more.

Don Q.

Not that I question, most afflicted Lady, the truth of your strange story; but to be satisfied in the method I must use in your re­leif, I will presume t'interrogate the head.

Duke.

Now for the Oracle, thus far 'tis rarely carried.

Card.

They act it to a miracle. Sancho is so confounded yonder, he cannot speak.

Luscin [...]
[Page 33]

Oh! they'l give him vent presently.

Dutch.

Pray Heaven, the Head be in a good humour, and has not got a cold, that we may hear distinctly, Merlins order.

Sancho,

Good Sir be pleas'd to begin as soon as you can, for els [...] the Head to my thinking by his gaping, will attack you with a Speech first.

Don Qu.

Hem, hem, thou admirable Head, what is thy name?

Head

Don Quixot de la Mancha, otherwise called the Knight of the Ill-favoured-Face.

Sancho,

O, Lord, and who am I pray Mr. Head?

Head,

the trusty Sancho-Pancha, and now the famous Governour of Barataria.

Sancho,

Th [...] Devil's in't, I see there's no keeping preferment se­cret, every ones Head, inchanted or not inchanted, will be medling with other peoples matters; and when am I to be settled in this Go­vernment, good Mr. Golden-pate?

Head,

Not till the Adventure of the Beards is ended.

Sancho,

Why then pray, let it be ended quickly, for my Cloths are making; and my Wife is coming, and I must govern to morrow, whether these good women have beards or no beards.

Don Qu.

Be brief, incomparable Head, and let me know the way to disenchant the Countess.

Head,

This night between the hours of twelve and one, Merlin will send thee an inchanted Horse, on which thou and thy valiant Squire must ride through the Region of the Air, un [...]o Candaya, to Combat the Curst Giant Mala [...]bruno, who by thy hand shall f [...]ll, and from that instant, the hairs shall peel from these disconsolate faces, and every Chin be smooth as Infant Beauty▪

Don. Qu.

Thanks to the gracious Merlin, and let the Horse but come, ile in a trice be with this horrid Giant. Sancho, prepare, for I will lose my Beard among those Infidels, e're suffer these to grow a moment longer.

Sancho,

Dee hear, dee hear Sir, pray let d [...]scretion rule the roast with ye a little, I am a Governour now, and can speak Sentences by the Dozen, what a plague have we to do with Giants of Candaya? how do you think the Princess Dulcineas business will go on, if I am galling my Buttocks in a Journey towards Candaya? And as for these Gen­tlewomen, they'l do well to get into some Country or other where there's but little Sun-shine, they may do business well enough in the Dark, for the Proverb says, when Candles are out all Cats are Grey.

Mannel.

Oh, barbarous, art thou to be a Civil Judge, and canst thou want compassion; whither inhumane shall we fly for Succour, who'l take a Waiting-woman with a Beard on.

Sancho,
[Page 34]

Well, well, that's all one, I shan't ride for all t [...]t.

Carden.

Truly Sir Governour, the Countess is in the right, a Lady with a Bea [...]d, will look but odly in a Queen's Bedchamber.

[...].

Oh, the grand Sancho, is a greater friend to our Sex [...] [...]o suffer such ignominy through his default.

[...]on [...]u.

I've taught him more humanity I am sure.

S [...]ncho,

Ay, you may talk, but this shan [...]t get me on Horseback, [...]or tho I am a friend good enough to the Sex, yet I am for letting [...]ery one shave her self as she can. Now am I piping-hot just ready to enter upon my Government, and here's the devil of a Head would [...] it, to send me of a fools Errant, as far as Candaya, gadzookes, [...]et Waiting-wo [...]en go hairy to their Graves, ile not jolt so far to take way any ones Beard; not I, if my Master has such a mind to't let him do [...]t alone, I've other business eno [...]gh he knows.

Duk [...],

Why friend, the Island is rooted fast in the earth, 'twill stay for ye till ye come again, besides, I find there's a necessity for your going: what say [...]st thou fam'd Head? Can Don Quixote end the Charm alone?

[...]ad,

No, 'tis impossible, Sancho must go, or these be Bearded ever.

S [...]cho,

Oons, ye damn'd chattering devil, ye lye, and ile see if I ca [...] Cunjure yo [...] into a better opinion; now I'm provok'd, ile see what [...]ind of witchcraft lurks w [...]thin ye here. How now.

Snatches off the Golden-head from the Table, and discovers the Page barefaced, who is hid within it.

What a plague have we here?

Pedro,

A Pox on him, the Chollerick fool has discovered us.

Man.

[...]Tis so, he has spoil [...]d the rest of the Scene, come let's take the Page away, and carry off all with a Laugh—ha, ha, ha, a trick, a trick, ha, ha.

Omn.

A trick, a trick, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

They all get off, Ex.
D [...]ke,

'Tis pl [...]in now, this is a meer piece of Roguery.

Dutch.

Invented I warrant by some enemy to Knight Errantry.

[...].

And acted by some of the Mobile of the Village.

Queen,

That heard of his high soaring fame no doubt, and therefore tho [...]ght to blast it with this jest.

Don Qu.

Poor infects I despise 'em.

Sancho,

Ha, ha, ha, ha, — but what says Mr. Head here all this while to the business? Shall my Master and I go a voyage to Candaya? good Mr. Head, ha, ha, ha, ha, humph, what dee ye say nothing to't, to Shave a parcel of rotten Waiting-women? admirable Mr. Head, ha, ha, ha, ha, I think I have routed your inchantment, Ifaith, ha, ha, ha, what thinks your Worship of the business; as the Natural said to the Bishop, who's the Fool now?

Don Qu.
[Page 35]

Peace Buffle, all Drolls are below me to take notice of.

Duke,

Ay, ay, Don Quixote's in the right; and so is likewise the Grand Sancho, to honour whom for this last witty discovery, ile in­stantly send for his Robe, and prepare his Officers to wait on him to his Government.

To do such feats Ages to come shall brag on,
Nay, when I'm there, ile govern like a Draggon.
Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. The Town.

Enter Teresa, and Mary Panca, in poor Clothes.
Mary,

COme, come, Mother, pray be pacified and chear up a lit­tle better, and since my good Vather is got to be a Gover­nour, and has sent for us hither to this curious place to be Coun­tesses an vine Volk, slidikins let's go to't merrily, and not look sneaking, as if we were going to be hang'd for Sheep stealing.

Speaks broad Country like.
Teres.

Ah, Mary, if I am melancholly 'tis upon thy account, for thou'lt prove but an awkerd Countess I'm affraid, now the blessing is fallen upon us; hast left off blowing thy Nose between thy Fin­gers Mary, and wiping it upon thy Smocksleeves Child.

Mary,

Yes that I have pray, and dipping my Knuckles in the platter too.

Teres.

And playing at see-saw a stroddle cross a board with the Ploughmen; and above all thy dearly beloved delight, moulding of Cocklebread.

Mary,

Aw, I have left 'em all off I fackins, my Va [...]her shall see when he comes, that his daughter Mary, shawnt disgrace her Gen­tillity, he shall find me so chang [...]d in my discourse, and my way so altr'd, that odslidikins, he shall hardly know me again.

Takes a Letter out of her Bosom.
Teres.

Ah blessing on the good Man's heart, here's his Letter, and little did I think that my Sancho, could have made his words good that he said to me, when he left me to go a Squiring: Good-lack-a-day, [Page 36] I have been so overjoy [...]d ever since I had it, and have read it so [...]ften, and kiss [...]d it and thumb'd it so much, tha [...] [...] have almost worn the Letter out; it has had two or three mischances too, for the same day I had it, putting it into my Bosom as I was a washing, and being taken up with thinking, I dropt it into the Tub amongst the fowl Suds; but I warrant ye I snatch'd it out with hast enough; but then again, to see the ill accidents that come by being over fond of a thing, at night carrying it to bed with me, and reading it with joy, by an inch of Candle, which I he [...]d in my hand, I fell a sleep, the light went out I know not how, and in the Morning I found the Candle in my hand, squeez'd as flat as the Letter, and gad forgive me, the Letter in the Chamber-pot.

Mary

Goodnow let's see't a little, for I'm hughly pleas'd with the dress that the Dutch have found out for us here.

Takes the Letter.
Teres.

The Dutch have found out, why did every any one see such a simple Holden, 'tis not the Dutch that have found it out for us fool, 'tis a huge great Lady that [...]s Wife to one Duck, a huge great Lord that the Letter says has done it, ye silly Jade.

Ma [...]y,

Duck, Duck, good lord Mother, that you should mistake so, why what a dickins, dee think I can [...]t read, here's no Duck nor Mallard neither, I tell ye 'tis th [...] Dutch, look here else; let's read again.

Mary

reads, Therefore now goody B.E.A.N. goody Beanbelly (Lord bl [...]ss us, my Vather you know us'd to Joake, and often call ye so Mother) ha, ha, ha, ha, l [...]ft up your G.O LL. S, and thank heaven that you are now a Governours Wife, My Lady the Dutch, ay here 'tis now.

Teres.

Where, where, is't now, ye blind Oatmeal-e [...]er,

* Teres [...] reads.

humh That you are now a Governours Wife, my Lady the Dutc [...] ­es, the Dutchess ye ignorant Jade, that is as I said be­fore the Ducks Wife, has sent my Daughter Mary a rich p [...]ice of St [...]ff, to make h [...]r a modi [...] [...]ress: 'tis she has sent it Clodpate, not the Dutch, wh [...]ever knew them mind any Modes or Dresses either, ye senseless Mawkin.

Mary,

Well, well, but then here again a little farther

Sh [...] takesthe Letter.

is best of all, I intend to marry Moll out of hand ha, ha, ha, ha, for her B. V. B. her Bubbys grow large and seem to make motion for a Husband, ha, ha, ha. — Well my Vather's a parlous man ile say't, O my Soul and Conscience he knows ones mind as well as if he were in one.

Ter [...]s.

Ay, Lord save him, the man had more in him than ever we thought Mary, and then lets see here I come in, in the

She read [...].

next Line—humph. Come to me as best thou canst, and against thy coming I will provide thee a Coach, for I go to my Government to morrow, with in­tent to make money, as all other Governours do.— Dapple is well and com­mends him hartily to thee.

She t [...]kes the Letter.
Mary,
[Page 37]

Ah bless the Soul of him, would the pretty Creatue were here, that I might buss him a little.

Teresa takes the Letter.
Teres.

Ah Gimminy, I could eat the Letter up methinks: —well dear Sancho, or dear Governor, here I am come to thee at last; good Lord Mary! I can but think upon his former words, which odsdiggers I could n'er have believe then, tho now I find 'em true▪ Teresa, said he thou wert born to be a Countess, the what de'e call 'ems, Plannets I think he call'd 'em, have allo [...]ted thee Honours, said he, Thou hast an Eye like a Countess, says he a Cocking Nose like a Countess, says he, a shape like a Countess, a jetting Bum like a Countess, and a —every thing like a Countess, said he; and good lack a day, to see how the dear man's words fall out.

Mary,

Odsl [...]dikins, I am so merry, I could l [...]ap out of my skin me­thinks; but come Mother, now lets settle our faces and enquire for the Governour Sancho's House pray.

Teres.

It must be here about I'm sure, by the directions of the Let­ter: Oh! here comes a Gentleman, ile inquire of him. Now Mary look to your self, be sure

Enter Mannell.
Mannel,

Well, they may talk of Proteus, and his changes, but in so [...]mall a time, if ever he wore so many shapes as I have done, I much wonder, the blunt fool Sancho by chance made shift to frustrate our last design; but ile try if he has brains enough to find me out in this disguise. I am now by my Lord Dukes order to be Secretary, and Ci­vility Master to fool him and his Wife in there new Government: He I hear is upon his way hither, and she too ought to be here to meet [...]m, with the dowdy her daughter, I wonder their Tawny Ladiships sta [...] so lo [...]g.

Mary,

Sir, Gentleman, if I may presume to be so bold.

Teres.

Prithee hold thy Tongue, ile speak to him my self, hem, [...]em, if your business Sir,

* Putting her by▪ Mak [...]s aw­kerd Curtesies.

be not much in haste, be pleas'd to know Sir, that I am the Governor Sancho's Wife Sir, and therefore desire you would do your self the honour Sir, to conduct me to his house Sir.

Mannell,

It must be they, their Comical Figures shew they can be no other.

Mary,

And look friend, I am his daughter Moll you must know, otherwise called Mary the Buxom; and now yo [...] know us, pray will you tell my Vather,—that we are come, de'e hear.

Mannel,

In happy time good Ladies, for I have been here ready this two hours, to attend your motion.

Mary,
[Page 38]

Deslikins, de'e hear Mother, he calls us Ladies already.

Aside.
Teres.

Humph, you will be prating still, you will shew your self a hoyden; why look Friend, to deal plainly, we had made our noble entrance sooner, but the Waggon broke, and we were forc'd for three hours to tarry the mending.

Mannel,

The Waggon, why did your Excellencies, then conde­scend to make your approaches to your Government, by the contemp­tible [...]onvenience of a Waggon.

Ter [...]s.

Why truly yes friend, for want of better, our Excellencies for once made a hard shift.

Mary,

There was ne'r a Cart to be had in Town, you must know but one, that was carrying Lime to make Morter to mend the Town Hall.

Mann [...]l,

A Cart! a Chariot sure you must mean Misse-Pritty.

Teres.

A Cart did you ever hear such a Jade, ay, ay Sir, Miss meant a Chariot as you say: Pox take her, would she were whipt at a Cart▪ a little; a thing that runs upon Wheels Sir, a fine stately thing that runs I say upon Wheels.

To Mary aside.
Mannel,

Ay, it may run upon Leggs for any thing thou knowst of it.

Aside.
Mannel,

Ay, ay, your Ladiship is in the right, it does run upon Wheels indeed: But come now I beseech you give me leave to usher ye to your House, I am my self a small Officer under the Governour and your Ladiship; to him I serve as Secretary, and to you as Civili­ty Master.

Teres.

Good Mr. [...]ivility, I shall [...]oon know your good qualities.

Mary,

Oh, ho, ho, O Lord! I can [...]t keep from laughing for the life of me.

Mannel,

My duty at present, is to conduct you to the Chief Ma­tron, to be new dress'd, as fits a Governours Wife,—it must be done instantly,— therefore pray follow me, that you may be ready to re­ceive your Lord, who intends to be here at Dinner.

Teres.

Well, pray lead the way friend, ile warrant ile keep touch with ye.

Mary,

Lord bless us, what [...]s to be done now, I am in such a quan­dary I know not what I say nor do, for my part.

Exeunt with Mannel.

SCENE II.

Enter Duke, and Sancho dress [...]d Fantastically as a Governour, between hi [...] and the Dutchess, Luscinda, Cardenio, Rodriguez and Servants fol­lowing.
Duke,

HAve the Chief Citizens and leading Men of the Island no­tice, of their new Governours Arrival.

Servant,

They have my Lord, and this is the place, where they de­sign [...]d to meet him.

Duke,

'Tis well, is there ought else, my most illustrious Don, in which my self or the Dutchess there can honour ye.

Don Q [...].

Ds'death, is that a look like a Governour, hold up thy head for shame, his joy my Lord has prest so much upon his spirits, his Tongue at present is not at liberty.

Carden.

The favours these illustrious persons bestow hourly, would make a Dumb man speak to return thanks.

Luscin.

And yet he stands as if he did not mind 'em.

D [...]tch.

Any thing in my power the Noble Governour is sure he may command, unless it be to give him leave to Ravish my woman Rodriguez.

Rodr.

Me, I had rather see his Governourship hang'd, than he should come but as near as to whisper me, —marry choak him what the first day of his wearing Socks.

Don Quix.

Oons is he Dumb indeed.

Ioggs Sancho.
Sancho,

Hark good Mistress Conserve-maker, hold your self con­tented: All Rats, lookee care not for mouldy Cheese, if you Virgini­ty is to be hangd upon the Tree till I shake it off, the Crows may come and pick at it for Sancho.

Carden.

Oh, this is well now, a few wise sayings [...]rom a Governor look decently.

Sancho,

Some of which should profit your pert Lady then methinks, that she is so quick at putting her Spoon into another mans Porridge: look friend too much Tongue, too much Taile, — I say no more, but the Hen discovers her Nest with Cackling.

Luscin.

Oh unfortunate person, now have I rowz'd a sleeping Lyon that will tear me to pieces.

Dutch.

No, no, Madam the wise Governour will consider the f [...]ail­ty of our Sex.

Sancho,

As to your Grace, I must needs say I am beholding, and if my Government stretch to my mind but an inch or two, I will shew [Page 40] my self thankful as well as I can, — but for your flee [...]ers,— and espe­cially Goody Warming Pan there, the Governour turns his Rump upon 'em, as things below his place and Sagacity.

Rodrig.

Well, and I turn my Rump upon the [...] too—'dslife ye were but a Stirrup holder the to'ther day, were ye.

Duke,

Come good words Roderiguez, there's distinctio [...] between Sancho and you now.

Rodrig.

Ay, the worse world in the mean time, — I thought I might have de [...]erv'd an honour from your Grace, considering all things, as well as that Sheepsheerer.

Weeps.
Carden.

Ha, ha, ha, Faith my Lord, Mistress Rodriguez is the right, and but that the Governour here has got the start of us, and that his people are coming to wait upon him, I would put one Shoulder to heave him out of his Authority, for the hard Joke he gave my Wife.

Sancho,

I but in the mean time, don't sell the Bears Skin before you have caught him: All are not Thieves that Doggs bark at, you may turn the buckle behind ye now Friend.

Enter Pedro, and Baratarians.
Pedro,

Health to the Duke and next, the Gover­nour,

Bowing to the Duke and Sancho.

† to whom I, as his Physitian in ordinary, — and the Mouth of these grave Citizens, thus tender homage, —and am proud —t'inform him we come to wait upon him to his Go­vernment.

Don Qu.

Your hat, Sancho your hat, 'dsdeath, don't you see they are all bareheaded: Come, come look grave and speak after me, we [...]l imitate▪ the Polish Election, and give it them in Latin, —Sit bonus Populus.

Sancho,

Sit bonus Populus.

Speaks loud and Clounishly.
Don Qu.

Bonus ero Gubernator.

Sancho,

Bonus ero Gubernator.

They shout.
Duke,

So then, since all things move in their right orde [...], here now let's part, and bonos nocios Governour.

Sancho,

The Governour is your Graces Footstool my Lord.

Dutch.

I hope your Excellency will let us hear s [...]metimes of your Transactions.

Sancho,

Madam, there shall not be a Pound of Butter weighed, nor yet a Pudding be enrich'd with Plumbs, wherein your Graces shall not have a Finger.

Duke,

Oh! Air, Air,—I shall choack else, ha, ha, ha.

Aside.
Carden.

Well, since it must be so, adeiw most noble Governour.

They make their Conge, and Exit all but Don Quixote, Pedro and Baratarians.
Don Qu.
[Page 41]

I yet must be a minute with my freind, i [...]e follow your Grace instantly: you Sirs, I must desire t'absent a little too, I have some private business with the Governour How now my kind com­panion in my Travels, what means this tenderness?

Pedro and the rest go out, Sancho weeps.
Sancho,

Nature works, Sir,—I never look upon that scurvy Phiz of yours, nor think upon the many drubs and bruises you are to suffer▪ but my bowels earn after ye, just like a Mother, for her first born, —oh▪

[...]eeps.
Don Qu.

Brother, Sanc [...]o, introth this is too kind, come think of governing Man, and let that cheer thee, in which Station to give thee some few instructions I have pickt out this minute, therefore mind m [...].

Embraces him.
Sancho,

I will, Sir, and beseech ye, speak slowly that [...] may keep pace with ye, because you know my understanding was always rather for the Trot than the Gallop.

Don Qu.

Ile fit it to a hair, hem, to begin then, if thou wouldst make thy self a proper Governour for these times, thou oughtst prin­cipally to adorn thy self with these three vertues or qualifications, which are Morallity, Conscience, and Decency.— And first, of the first, to have or be thought to have Morality, is extreamly useful for a Governour, if it were for nothing but to be a Screen, that people might not pry too much into his Religion, for if he is once noted for a moral Man (whither he be really so or no) let him be a Iew in his opinion, or of no Religion at all, 'tis not three half pence matter.

Sancho,

I am glad of that Sir, for my Religion, like the rest of my good parts is somewhat Clowdy at present, 'tis like a Field of Corn ill mannag'd, there will want a great deal of weeding before the Crop would come to be good for any thing.

Don Qu.

Another part of Mor [...]lity, Sancho, is self knowledge, to be sure not to forget thy Original, nor blush to own that thou com [...]st of a poor Linnage for when thou art not asham [...]d thy self no body will seek to make thee so, but if thou shouldst like the Fr [...]g, fancy thy self an Ox, thou art undone, for many hundreds now live that know thou wert at first but a Hog-keeper.

Sancho,

That's true, Sir, but then, 'twas when I was but a Boy, for when I grew up to be Mannish, [...] kept Turkeys and Geese, which is counted the better preferment by much in Spain, you know.

Don Qu.

Well let that pass, in the second place, a Governour ought to take care to have an admirable Conscience; he must have a Conscience so very tender, that a Fly can't buz upon't without ma­king him squeak, it ought to sit straight and close to him, like a Thimble upon a Ladies finger, and not as 'tis customary, like a Jockeis Boot that he can stretch which way he pleases, this will best appear in his impartial execution of Justice, and to avoid Corruption, or [Page 42] taki [...]g of Bribes which is so tempting, and withall so crying a sin, that there [...]s not one Governour in forty can forbear damming himself about it do what he can.

Sancho,

Why then, Lord have mercy upon my Soul too, for to deal plainly, [...] am afraid my fingers (as well as the rest) will itch dam­nably to be handling the money.

A-part.
Don Qu.

As to the manner of getting the Government, that piece of self-denial is generally smothered, for if thou hast the Conscience to think thou deservest it, 'tis thy own fairly if thou canst get it in Course: I could be somewhat Satyrical upon thy parts now, but that I love thee Sancho, and the [...]efore will desist; besides, to do thee ju­stice, thou art not the first that has got a Government he was not be­holding to his desert for.

San [...]h [...],

No nor shan't be the last, Sir, for desert is govern'd by fo [...]tu [...]e you know, and in a double manner, for if some were to have thei [...] true deserts, they would be Princes and Governors presently, and if others, again, were to have theirs, —Oons what an Army of Subjects here would be hang [...]d up in one Summer.

Don Qu.

Well d [...]ar Sancho, for that saying thou deservest not only to Govern an Island, but an Empire: therefore to proceed breifly, because I see thy people wait, ile come to the third good quality proper for a Go­vernour, which is decency.

Sancho,

I have an inckling, that that good quality will be as pro­per for me as any of the rest, — because I suppose it relates to clean­liness, good breeding.

Don Qu.

Thou hast nick [...]d it, therefore be sure to take care to pair thy Nails, and scowre thy Teeth clean; and when thou sittest upon the Judgment seat, take special heed thou dost not Belch, nor Yawn, for those are b [...]astly neglects, tho' too commonly used among our Modern Ministers of Justice.

Sancho,

Why looke'e, Sir, as to Belching, tho I learnt it of a Stout Dutch Trooper that thought it became him very well, yet, I shall make no great matter to leave it off; but as for Yawning, 'tis impos­sible for me, Zooks, I can as soon leave off my Proverbs, and that you know were to unhinge all ifaith: why look now, your very putting in mind on't has set me at it already.

Yawens and Gapes.
Don Qu.

Oh, the Devil, what a Yell is there, for a Magistrate, but come, since I see Nature is not to be expelled with a forke, observe the rest, take heed of eating Garlick as thou hast us'd to do, for that will discover thy Course Extraction, and be nauseous to all about thee, for in that manner I once knew a Country Recorder that us'd to give poor Criminals double deaths, first by his abominable breath, and afterwards by his Sentence.

Sancho,

That will be a plaguey hard Chapter too, for to my think­ing a Clove of Garlick gives ones Dinner a curious hautgoust.

Shaking's head.
Don Qu.
[Page 43]

Be sure always to walke Slow and Stately, and let the fulness and gravity of your look attone for the vacuum, and cavity of thy head; and lastly, above all to be sure to manage that beard of thine wisely, Scrub it, Sancho, Comb it, mundifie the Whiskers, I say, that when thou waggst it on some great occasion, thou mayst scatter no Vermin upon those that occasionally come to thee for Justice: And so good fortune guide thee.

Embracing.
[...]nter Pedro and Bartarians.
Sancho,

Well, Sir, I can but thank ye, you have given me a plaguey deal of good Counsel, if I have but the Grace to follow it; but come many ventures make a full fraight, ile do what I can, [...]ut especially for that about Garlick and Belching let me alone, and so, Sir, wishing ye to be an Emperor in the space of a whistling-time, we take our leaves.

To feast and give our Islanders a Playday,
And meet our Spouse, who now must be a Lady.
Pedro,

and the rest. Long live the Governour of Barataria, Huzza.

Exeunt Sancho and Baratarians one way, and Don Quixot another, weeping

SCENE III.

Enter Teresa, and Mary, new dress [...]d with Mannel.
Mary,

LOrd is this me, odslidikins, they have made me so fine, that would I were hang [...]d if I know whither 'tis me or no.

Teres.

Well, and what's to be done next good Mr. Civility, what you have shown us already is cur [...]ou [...]fine i [...]akins.

Mannel,

Leave off that course, that Clownish word ifakins, and if you would swear like a Lady oth' Mode, [...]ou must say by my Soul m [...] Lord, by my Honour Madam, by the universe Cavalier, unless you are at Cards among your selves, and then you may inlarge a little, as thus, SoonsI have had horrid ill luck to night, I ha [...]e lost 50 quadruples, Damme.

Teres.

Well that [...]s very prety by the universe Caval [...]er.

Mary,

It has such a pure sound with it when one swears a little, and methinks the words Mother come off so round [...], that would I may never make water more, if I had not rather

Teres.

O Lord, O Lord! there the Quean had it out broad, why ye clownish Jade, have I—.

Mannel,

Hold, hold, good Madam, let me mannage her, you must consider she is not yet wean'd from her Countr [...] Dialect. Oh s [...]e Miss, you have said such a paw thing, that I warrant ne're a one of [Page 44] the Town Ladies would have said for a Thousand pounds: Oh, you must not offer to say such a paw thing as that, nor do such a paw thing as that for the World, though ye are in never so great an extremity.

Mary,

No, I cod that's very hard though.

Teres.

Let me come to her, Sir; 'dlife this rude Hilding will spoil all our preferment.

Mannel,

Oh, Patience, patience, Madam; she must come too't by degrees: Young Lady, I blame you not for speaking, but for the man­ner of it; therefore from henceforth, when you would express your self on that occasion, if you are visiting or elsewhere, you must say, Dear Co [...]sin, or Madam, I've an extream desire to make a Natural Eva­cuation.

Mary,

A Natural Evacuation! O Lord, that's pretty I swear.

Mannel,

Oh, Modesty is the most darling Jewel amongst all well-bred Ladies, though it often occasions 'em distress enough too. I re­member once at a certain noble Lord's Tryal, a certain ruddy plump young Lady, dyed a green Manteau and Petticoat into a perfect Blew, through her riggid Modesty and the violent Effect of Natural Evacua­tion. — But come now, practise your gate agen a little; — Walk, walk hold up your Heads— So, snap your Fanns—Very good — Wag your Hipps a little more—Admirable, Adroit and Easie—leave but off the Country hobble now, and I defie any Court-Lady of 'em all to out­do ye.

They Iig about.
Ter [...]s.

Well, I swear, methinks I [...]m chang'd quite to another thing already.

Man [...]el,

Oh, here's the Governour—I hear the Musick.

Loud Trum­pets within.
Enter Sancho s [...]rutting, with Pedro and Baratarians.
Mary,

Oh, that ever I was born! is that my Vather?

Staring and clapping her hands.
T [...]r [...]s.

Ah, Blessing on the pretious Eyes on thee, my dear Yoke­mate, my Sancho; and art thou then a Governour indeed, mine own Oosle-cock?

She runs to embrace him.
Mannel,

Oh, hands off, good Madam; such greeting is not decent in great Ladies.

Takes her from Sancho's Neck.
Ter [...]s.

Gadslidikins I could smother him in that fine Coat methinks.

Mary,

I must speak to him; he looks like one of the great fat Men they call Judges, that used to ride so purely through our Town—Oh brave Vather! Oh brave Father! is [...]t you, Vather? is't you? Oh Law! oh Law!

Iumps and laughs.
Sancho,

Ha, ha, ha, ha; the poor Fools are almost craz'd through meer Joy; 'tis well, Spouse; mine, 'tis well: but not too much of [...]ondness now, good Crooked Rib— and Daughter, mine, take care of Romping: Remember who I am.

Teres.
[Page 45]

Ah, dear Gravel-face, dear Ferret-eyes.

Leering at him.
Mannel,

Madam, Madam, you forget.

Mary,

I am my Lord the Governour Sancho Panca's most humble Servant, upon my Honour; and wou'd I may ne'er make [...]ter if Man­nel stops her.

Sancho,

Well, said Mary the Buxom; that's my good Girl, hold thee there, Moll.

Teres.

And I am his Lordship [...]s every thing; his hot Loaf and Butter, Suet-pudding, his Pancake, by the Universe.

Mannel,

Pretty well, that, Madam, indifferent.

Sancho,

'Tis very well good Mouse-trap in me, 'tis v [...]ry well; and you see I have been as good as my word; I told ye what my Squire­ship would come too, Teresa; but you would not believe, you would be obstinate: A Woman, a Woman.

Teres.

I was under some little doubt, my Lord; by my Soul, I must confess.

Speaks mincing.
Mannel,

Very well, that last, Madam, extreamly well.

Mary,

I would have laid a Groat I should have had no new Lockram Smocks of your giving me Vather — not this —.

Mannel,

Aw, not a word more of that; 'tis well he do▪s not hear ye.

Sancho,

Here's Dapple too; come along with me, Chuck; the poor Ass, on my Conscience, is as glad of his Preferment as thou art; I'd have brought him in here, but that we should have wanted an Elbow-Chair for him to sit down in.

Mannel,

There▪s an Alcove within with a State and Velvet-cushions, my Lord

Sancho,

No, no; 'tis no matter now, though the Creature is good Company enough: Faith, he's trapd so richly, you'd wonder if you saw him: he▪s all over Embroider'd like a High Sheriff of a County upon an Entertaining-day.

Pedro,

Please your Excellence to sit and rest a little, for I'm of Opi­nion that this sultry Climate bears no Affinity with the Choller of your Complexion, especially when irritated by Motion: Excuse me, my Lord, 'tis my duty to be careful of your Constitution, which I perceive at present to be somewhat languid and sudorous; be pleased therefore to sit, and see the Sports that are provided to entertain ye.

Sancho,

Ay, with all my heart; and d'ye hear Doctor? Prithee let me have as few of your cramp words as you can, for they'll work more upon my Constitution than any Dose of Pills you can give me. Come family of the Panca's, set down by me, and let's see these Sports he talks of, and afterward let's go to dinner, for I feel a kind of a govern­ing stomach, that methinks grumbles to be satisfied: I could eat heartily.

Pedro,

Good my Lord, think not too much of Eating, 'tis very un­wholsome.

Sancho,
[Page 46]

How! Eating unwholsome! prithee honest Gut-scowrer, perswade me to that if thou canst: Ha, ha, ha, that▪s a very good Jest, [...]aith

Sancho Teresa and Mary sit down, then Musick sounds, and an Entertainment follows of Singing and Dancing: which ended, a Table is brought in furnished; Pedro and Mannel wait, then is a Dance of Spinsters.
A SONG
Sung by a Clown and his Wife.
He.
SInce Times are so bad, I must tell thee, Sweet-heart,
I▪m thinking to leave off my Plough and my Cart;
And to the fair City a Iourney will go,
To better my Fortune, as other folk doe:
Since some have from Ditches,
And course Leather-breeches,
B [...]en rais'd to be Rulers, and wallow'd in Riches.
Prithee come, come from thy Wheel;
For if Gypsies don't lye,
I shall be a Governour too, e're I dye.
She.
Ah, Collin! by all thy late doings I find
With sorrow and trouble the Pride of thy Mind;
Our Sheep now at random, disorderly run,
And now Sundays Iacket goes every day on:
Ah! what dost thou mean,
He.
To make my Shooes clean,
And foot it to Court, to the King and the Queen,
Where shewing my Parts, I preferment shall win.
She.
Fye, 'tis better for us to Plough and to Spin;
For as to the Court, when thou happen'st to try,
Thou [...]'t find nothing got there, unless thou canst buy;
For Money the Devil, the Devil and all's to be found,
But no good Parts minded without the good Pound.
He.
Why then I'll take Arms,
And follow Allarms,
Hunt Honour that now-a-days plagueily charms:
She.
And so lose a Limb by a Shot or a Blow,
And curse thy self after for leaving the Plough.
He.

Suppose I turn Gamester;

She.

So Cheat and be bang'd:

He.

What think'st of the Road then?

She.

The High-way to he hang'd.

He.
[Page 47]
Nice Pimping however yields profit for [...]
I'll help some fine Lord to another's fine Wife.
She.
That's dangeorus too,
Amongst the Town-Crew,
For some of 'em will do the same thing by you;
And then I to Cuckold ye may be drawn in,
Faith, Collin, 'tis better I sit here and Spin.
He.

Will nothing prefer me? what think'st of the Law?

She.

Oh! while you live, Collin, keep out of that Paw:

He.

I'll Cant, and I'll Pray;

She.
Ah! there's nought got that way▪
There's no one minds now what those black Cattle say:
Let all our whole Care
Be our Farming affair,
He.

To make our Corn grow, and our Apple-trees bear▪

2 Voices.
Ambition's a Trade, no Contentment can show;
She.

So I'll to my Distaff,

He.

And I to my Plough.

CHORVS.
Let all our whole Care
Be our Farming affai [...]
To make our Corn grow, and our Apple-trees bear.
Ambition's a Trade, no Contentment can show;
So I'll to my Distaff,
And I to my Plough.
Pedro,

How does your Excellence like the Entertainment? do our Musick and Sports please ye?

Enter a Carter.
Sancho,

Yes, yes, I like your Sports well enough; — but here's a Sport that I think at present surpasses 'em,—Gad there's a rare Turky, and I've a furious Inclination to be familiar with him. How now!

Carver goes to cut the Turky, and Pedro strikes the Dish with a Wan, at which the Waiters snatch it away.
Pedro,

By no means, Sir, 'tis hot, undigestible, and corroding; the Flesh of that sort of Fowl, are highly pernicious to a Constitution that abounds with Choller: You must excuse me, Sir, I am stipended in this Island to take care of its Governours, and study day and night to pre­scribe a Dyet proper for 'em.

Teresa takes a Comfit, and Mannel snatches it from her.
Mannel,
[Page 48]

You must not eat yet, Madam; 'tis ill Manners; the Carver has not help'd your Lord.

Teres.

By the Universe that's true: Well, Sir; pray excuse me, I shall remember better another time.

Mary,

O Lord, how my Chopps water at one of them fat Birds there!

Mannel,

Young Lady, keep your Elbows off the Table: Oh fye, 'tis highly indecent.

Sancho,

Well then; Prithee honest fellow, hand hither one of those Partridges; those, Doctor, are harmless Meat I'm sure.

Pedro,

Oh horrible, this plaguy Cook has sent 'em in blood-raw; the Rascal has pepper'd the Sawce too, as if they were to feed a Jew —a­way with 'em quickly: 'Sdeath this Rogue ought to be hang'd, he'll poyson the Governour in two days time.

Dish snatch'd away.
Sancho,

Poyson him! no, gadzooks he's in more danger of starving for ought I see. —Come, prithee what

Mannel this while is teaching the Women to behave themselves.

must I eat then? Quickly, quickly man, and don't square my stomach by thy own; give me a good hearty Collop of something that's warm and good, and don't judge me by thy self; thou look'st as if thou hadst fed upon Smoak all thy life-time.

Pedro,

Oh, thats very well, Sir: Jesting is wholsome, and I am glad to find your Excellence so dispos'd; 'tis more nourishing for ye then any Meat that I see here: Reach me that Dish there, friend.

Teres.

Is it always the Custom, friend, for the Governours to have thy hungry Preamble before Dinner?

Mannel,

Ever, Madam; the Doctor very often makes a Speech upon Temperance an hour or two long; 'tis the Custom.

Mary,

The Devil take the Customs then, I say; for I'm damnably sharp-set.

Pedro,

Look ye, your Excellence may

Gives him a Dish of Wafers.

Regale upon these with safety till better provision be order'd; and, Madam, these are light too, and of good digestion for Governour's Ladies: but for any thing else here.

Little Dishes of whipp'd Cream are brought in.
Sancho.

These, Oons why a hundred of 'em wont fill a man's Mouth: Why, ye plaguy Paracelsian you, d'ye think I can dine upon Paper?

Mary,

Or I upon Froth.

Sancho,

'Sbud give me a Glass of Wine there, I shall choak with Rage else: What a plague is the meaning of this?

Pedro,

'Tis Death for him; therefore I charge ye all forbear upon your Lives, till I have corrected it: Let me see the Glass.

Takes the Glass and prepares it.
Sancho,

Why ye damn'd Son of a Glister-pipe, must not I drink nei­ther?

Pedro,
[Page 49]

Not till I have allay'd the Assid quality of the Wine, my▪ Lord, and made it agree with your stomach; if you should be sick, alas, 'tis as much as my place, nay, as my life is worth; therefore it behoves me to be exceeding careful: you are inclining to a Hectick, my Lord, hot and dry, and too strong Liquors will infallibly destroy the Humidum Radicale.— There now, I think I may venture it.

Sancho,

Oh, confounded Potion-maker, this is meer Water, the very Liquor of Frogs, gadzooks—Hark ye, what is your Name, friend?

Pedro,

Sir, I'm styl'd Doctor Pedro Rezio de Agnero, I am a Native of Tirte Afuria, which lies between Caragnel and Almodona del Campo, and took my Degree in the University of Osuna.

Sancho,

Why then Doctor Pedro Rezio Agnero of Tirte Afuria, and Graduated in Osuna, take t [...]at (throws the Glass at him) and get you out of my sight, or I'll throw my Chair at your head: wh [...], [...]e Common-wealth's Hang-man, let me eat, or take [...]our Government agen with a Pox t'ye; for an Office that wont afford a Man his Vi [...]uals is not worth two Pilchers.

Exit. Pedro.
Mannel,

Oh, my Lord, Passion is very unbecoming a Man of your Place: pray have patience, 'twas the good Man▪s over-much Zeal to serve you.

Sancho,

Here's another too, a mannerl Coxcomb, that preaches Pa­tience to me, when I am ready to be starv'd — Gad I'll rid my Island of such Vermin as you quickly— you shall know that a Governour must eat in defiance of ye all, Rogues: Come, Spouse, fall on; I'll have this.

They snatch and eat ravenously.
Teres,

I this.

Mary,

And I this: But first, friend, I've great occasion for a little [...]atural Evacuation.

As [...]de to Mannel.
Enter Messenger.
Mannel,

'Dsheart not at Dinner time, Madam! that were such a plaguy indecency▪

Messenger,

M [...] Lord the Governour, [...]our Excellence is sta [...]'d for in Council, where are to be de [...]ated some Matters of great Moment; on must come awa [...] immediatel [...].

Sancho,

How now, Iack Sawce! must come awa [...]! Soft and fair goes far; after Dinner is time enough.

Mannel,

By no means, my Lord; stay not a minute, I beseech ye; the Council will take it so heinously to neglect em at your first coming, that I fear on such an occasion they'll rise and mutiny; there [...]ore tis extreamly proper your Excellency should go instantly, your Supper shall be mended, and attone for this to your satisfaction a [...]on.

Sancho,

Why this 'tis to be a Great Man now; when I was poor San­cho, the devil of any Mutineers had I occasion to be afraid of; but now [Page 50] Cares and Dangers crowd on a-pace: Come, Teresa, we'll take our a­mends anon; and, d'ye hear, let my Supper make me satisfaction with­out D [...]ctor Pedro Rezio's dire [...]ion; for if I find him here agen flirting my Dishes, or squirting Advice, Gadsbud I will begin with a Cudgel upon him, and so on, till I leave ne'er a Physician in the Island.

Exeunt Sancho, Teresa and Mary.
Mannel,

Ha, ha, ha: Go thy ways, Governour; this will be rare sport to send my Lord the Duke an account of, which I will do instant­ly, and tell him how methodically

Great Sancho learn'd in nought but Carts and Ploughing;
Rules without Power, and Judges without knowing.
Exit.

ACT V.

SCENE I. The Iudgmen [...]-Hall.

Enter Page, Mannel and Pedro.
Page,

I Assure ye, Gentlemen, my Lord and Lady were extreamly pleas'd with the last Acco [...]nt you sent 'em of your new Go­vernour's Actions; we had the story every night at Supper, and with so much laughing, that an old Philosopher, plagu'd with the Spleen and Gout, could hardly have forbore. I am now dispatch'd hither upon a new design to further the Jest; I have brought the Grand Sancho a Letter.

Mannel,

Ha, ha, ha: So, dost know the Contents on't, prithee?

Page,

Oh, each particular, my Lord Duke read it to us in publick; 'tis a terrible Scrowl, and pretends to discover some Enemies that have laid a Plot to attack the Island; 'twill try the Governour's courage, for here's horrible frightful news in't. Here, Doctor, you must give it him, I must back to my Lord agen immediately.

Pedro,

Ha, ha, ha; this will, no doubt, have the design'd Effect, espe­cially surprizing him, now in this juncture; for we have kept him these three days so hungry, and so little in heart, that he'll be frighted with the least shadow of danger.

Mannel,
[Page 51]

This is the best place to give it him too, for he's just now coming hither to hear Causes. — But, Page, prithee how thrives the Jest at home? how does the uncurably maim'd Don Quixote behave himself after the Loss of his Right-hand, Sancho, hah?

Page,

Why, faith, so lamely, and the Jest grows so stale now, that my Lord Duke begins to be weary; and therefore to get rid of him wittily, and send him home to his House, he designs a new contrivance for me to Act; what it is as yet I know not; but I suppose, by that time the Squire-Governour trotts from his Island here, the Knight-Errant will be moving the same pa [...]e homewards.

Pedro,

It must be very suddenly then, for the upshot of our Govern­ment is drawing on a-pace, the Mob will soon be prepar'd for the Jest. And see, here comes the Pageant — 'dslife and the Petitioners too.— Now if any one can l [...]ugh at Clumsie Justice, they may have a rare oc­casion: I must not be seen yet.

Page,

Nor I.

Exit Pedro and Page.
Enter Sancho, Constable and Watch, and Cryer, with Taylor, Gardner, Canter, Small Man and a Woman: Sancho sits down in the Chair.
Cryer,

Oh, yes! Let all manner of person or persons that come not hither for Justice, keep Silence; and let those that would have their Grievances redress'd, express 'em boldly, for the Governour is pre­par'd to hear 'em.

Sancho,

He is prepa [...]'d as far as hunger will let him; and though I have observ'd my self to have much a clearer Judgment upon a full sto­mach than an empty one, yet since they say spare diet and f [...]sting whets a man▪s Understanding, I'll try for once how wise 'twill make me. Come, friend, what▪s your Complaint now, humph?

Taylor,

Why, and please your Honour, my Name is Snip; I am a Woman▪s Taylor, and a Man that the Parish knows to be a Man that is not a Man, who, as a Man may say, will willingly let a Man, though it may chance a Man may be deceivd with fair Looks; yet, as your Honour knows, who are a Man.

Sancho,

Who am a Man that is like to know very little of your busi­ness at this rate, friend: Come, come, your Complaint Mr. Snip, your Complaint▪

Taylor,

Why, your Honour must know then that my Complaint is a­gainst my Neighbour Radish there the Gardner, who has feloniously, not having the fear of Heaven before his Eyes, taken from me and de­frauded me of a tame Cock-Pheasant, which I brought up by hand, and upon which I set an extraordinary value; yet this ravenous Can­nibal laid violent hands upon the poor Bird, carried it home to his Wife, roasted it; and had I not come just in the Nick and hinder'd [...]m, they had devourd it immediately.

Sancho,

Umph; and what say you to this, Radish, hah?

Taylor,

He, he can say nothing, my Lord; for lookee, to prove what I say is true, I have brought the Pheasant here along with me, poor fool, just as I snatch [...]d it out of the dish from 'em.

Puts the Pheasant on the Table.

And n [...]w since no proof is plainer than sight, I desire your Honour to do me Justice, and make him give me satisfaction.

S [...]ch [...],

By my faith, and nothing but reason, Mr. Snip; What, what an Enormance is here; what can you say to this, Radish, hah? is it your Conscience to come into a Neighbour's house, and steal away his Goods and Chattels; for his Pheasant in this place is a Chattel.

Tay [...]or,

Nay, I had not valued it so much, my Lord; but, to say the truth, the Creature was my Wives, and the poor Woman was always s [...]oking and playing with it.

Sancho,

Gad 'tis a delicate tender young Bit;

Sancho touches it and licks his fingers.

are not you a Rogue for this now Radish, to purloin and filch in this manner; it has an excellent tast, faith: must paltry Diggers and Delvers eat like the Gentry? Oons, with a little good sawce too't, this were a Dish for a Governour.

Tears off a Leg and eats it.
Gard.

But, p [...]ay will your Honour hear me a little now; One man's Tale is good till anothers is told: This Nitty Jerkin here, this Thim­ble, this Bodkin, this Cuckoldly Woman's Taylor, Snip, here.

Taylor,

Why how now ye Dunghill-raker, ye old rusty Pruning-knife, ye Maggot in a Pescod, ye Catterpiller: What, ye wont deny it, will ye?

Sancho,

Oons, is not here a plain proof? what, you wont deny a plain proof, will ye, Rascal?

Speaks with his Mouth full.
Gardn.

Ay, but pray do but hear me, my Lord, for yet you don [...]t know the trick on [...]t: for you must know this Snip and I us'd com­monly to go to one anothers Houses, and jestingly snatc [...] away seve­ral sort of things to eat and drink, I from him, and he from me, 'twas [...]ommon among us; and particularly t'other day, I had a curious Flask of Florence sent me for a Present, by a friend that I us'd to accommo­date with Fruit, of which, through neighbourly Courtesie, I gave Snip and his Wife a tast.

Sancho,

Well, what then? Go on go on; let him go on, Snip, let him go on; Gad I never eat a better thing in my life.

Speaks with his mouth full.
Aside.
Gardn.

Now, what do these cheating Companions do, being resolv'd to have the rest of my Wine, but come t [...]other day to my house; and whilst his Wife, who pretended friendly to cut my hair, put my face in her Lap, this sneaking Louse-snapper, Snip here, ran away with the Flask; for which, knowing no other way to be even with him, I yester­day made my Attack upon his Wive's Pheasant.

Taylor,

Why, ye Inoculating Rascal, dare you say 'twas Florence, hah?

Gardn.
[Page 53]

Yes, that I dare, Co [...]cumber; and to prove it to your face, that I mean what I say, I have here another Flask of it, which was just now sent me by the same person.

Sancho takes the Flask.
Sancho,

Nay, lookee, Snip, take heed of Lying; I don [...]t sit here to see Justice abus'd; and if this be really Florence, look too [...]t, Snip.

Drinks.
Taylor,

Besides, if it were, I think I han't bin behind-hand with ye; you have bin free to every thing in my house Time ou [...] of mind; it had a damnable sowre tast I'm sure; and what-ever you say, I can't think 'twas Florence, not I.

Sancho,

What can't you think, Pimp-whiskin? what can't you think? 'tis Florence, I say 'tis Florence; and Snip, y'are a—What a pox sure, I can't be mistaken.

Drinks agen.
Mannel,

The Governour has made himself amends for his fasting as it happens: But what will the Judgment be after all, I wonder?

Aside.
Sancho,

Ay, ay, Florence; 'tis Florence. I knew I was right; and are these things fitting for Gardners and Taylors? fat Pheasants and rich Wines food for such Vermin? I am inrag [...]d at it; I burst with Choler.

Mannel,

How will you please to punish 'em, my Lord?

Sancho,

Punish 'em! Oons, I know not how I shall punish 'em: but since they have made a practice to steal from one another, 'tis plain each of 'em keeps a House to incourage Thievery, and 'tis likely, in short time, may practice upon others as well as themselves; therefore I condemn 'em to pay ten Duckets a-piece to the Poor, and from hence­forth to be upon their good behaviour— not a word more — away with 'em —

They shake their heads, and are thrust out.
Mannel,

Bring the rest forward there.

Const. brings a Man forward.
Sancho,

Well, Mr. [...]onstable, who have you got here?

Const.

Why, and it please your Honour, a strange hypocritical kind of Rascal, that formerly we knew to be a common Cheat and Thief; but of late he has taken up a Trade of Can [...]ing and Devotion, which we all believe only to be a Blind, that he may manage his old pro­fession the better; for last night we took him up upon suspicion of stealing a Velvet Cloak.

Sancho,

To cover his Knavery withall: Very well Mr. Constable; Well, and what say you to this, Cloak-Merchant, hah?

Canter,

Why verily, I may not deny to thy Superio [...]ity; but that in my Pristine days of Vanity and Youth, I was a great Sinner, before the Spirit of Grace had entred into me; nay, with shame I do confess it to thee, oh Governour.

Sanch,

Take him away then and hang him, there's no more to be said.

Canter,

Aw, but I will tell thee what I am now; let me plead, I be­seech thee.

Sancho,
[Page 54]

Oons, what, after Confession? 'Shud, ant it confess and be hang [...]d all the World over? What an impudent fellow art thou! Gad­zooks, ile not spoil such a curious Proverb to save ne'er a Canting Ras­cal in all Spain—Away with him, I say.

Canter,

Ah, Mercy, mercy; Ah, wo is me.

They drag him out.
Const.

This is the worst Confession, friend, you have bin at a great while.

Sancho,

Come, come, for more, for more; I find my Judgment much cl [...]arer now than at first: Well, woman, what say you?

Woma [...],

Ah, I have many sad things to say upon my honesty, my Lord; [...]'m an undone person, I am crack [...]d, I am violated, or, to speak it in plain terms, I am Ravish [...]d as one may say.

Weeping.
Sancho,

Alas poor tender young thing, th [...] look'st as if thou hadst bin hardly put too't indeed: but where, where is this mighty Gogma­gog that has done it? he must be of the Race of the Giants sure.

Woman,

No, my Lord, 'tis not so much for his largeness, as for his strength and ability: this is the vile Man,

Points to a very little fellow.

my Lord; this is he that, as I may say, has abus'd my body like an un­wash'd Rag.

Sancho,

The Devil he is; What a plague, did he attack thee upon Stilts?

Small M.

My Lord, your Honour shall know, that there is not such another Impudence as that Woman in all Spain: I met her upon the Road this morning, and I know not how the Devil order'd the mat­ter, but I found a small Ambition in me of boarding such a huge tall Pinnace; and so we agreed for half a Ducket about the matter; and upon the finishing of the business, I pull'd out my Purse, in which I had about twenty more, and paid her honestly.

Sancho,

Nay, thou seem'st to be an admirable finisher of such a busi­ness: Well, go on, friend.

Small M.

Now you must know, my Lord, this plaguy Quean, seeing my Purse better stuff'd than she tho [...]ght, press'd me to give her more▪ which I refusing, as soon as I came to Town, she swore a Rape again [...]t me, which now occasi [...]ns my appearance before your Honour.

Woman,

Oh vile Creature, oh thou slanderous Monster; the guilt of whose lying Soul equals thy prodigious strength of body; Canst thou think to be believ'd, against my tears and protestation? No, no, wretch, the noble Governour understands Justice better.

Sancho,

Alas, go [...]d Woman, don't afflict thy self so: Look'e friend, Finisher, there must be more in this than ordinary — Have you that Purse about ye?

Small M.

Yes, my Lord, here it is.

Sancho,

Give it me, friend, and we'll make an end of this business presently: Come hither, Woman; you say this prodigious strong fel­low here forc'd you against your Will, and you struggled and defend­ed yourself all you could, hah?

Woman,
[Page 55]

Yes upon my honesty, my Lord.

Sancho,

Very good; then to let thee see how much I value honest Women, whose weaknesses are often unwillingly o'recome by such monstrous fellows, there, there's that Purse for thee; and to make thy self amends for the wrong he has done thee, get thee gone with it.

Throws her the Purse.
Small M.

Oh, good my Lord, if you take that, I'm utterly undone, 'tis all I'm worth.

Woman.

Ah, blessing on your Honours sweet face, y'are a heavenly Judge upon my honesty, and I shall pray for ye the longest day I have to live: — Ah, Gad save ye, ye are an upright Magistrate in troth.

Exit.
Small M.

Oh Lord, I'm ruin'd, I'm lost, 'tis all I have got this two years by hard labour, and I han't a penny more left in the world to help my self. Oh, that ever I was born.

Howles out.
Sancho,

Sirrah, you prodigious, you Finisher, leave your bawling, and gather up your Legs, and run after her as hard as you can, and force away the P [...]rse from her, and bring it hither to me.

Small M.

Oh, Ile do what I can, but I fear 'twill be a hard matter for the Jades as strong as a Horse.

Exit after her.
Sancho,

I begin to perceive that this Island of mine is very full of Enormities, which will require a plaguy deal of trouble to weed out; a Fool always sees more in his own house than a wife Man in anothers, if they will be Rogues, let 'em look too't. How now, see how they agree about the business without there.

Noise of shreeking, and scuffling within.
Exit Constable, and re-enters again with the Man and the Woman fighting; he tattered and beaten.
Sancho,

How now woman, what's the matter now.

Woma [...],

Why this impudent Fellow my Lord, contrary to your Ho­nours judgment, has followed me, and would have taken the Purse away from me again by force.

Sancho,

And has he got it.

Woma [...],

No I warrant ye, he get it, 'dslid, ile tear his eyes out first▪

Sancho,

Give it me hither, let me see if there's none missing;

She gives it.

there Fellow, take your Purse again: and dee hear Constable, bid the Beadle give that honesty there two hundred Lashes.

Woman,

Ah mercy upon me, what means your Honour.

Sancho,

If you had defended your honesty as well as you did the Purse ye Whore, you need not have feared Ravishing: away with her, and de'e hear you finisher, if I catch you finishing in such ano­ther affair, I shall put an end to you with Halter, and so with a Quibble thrown at your head, get ye out of my sight too Sirah.

Exeunt Man and Woman with Officers.
Cryer,

Mannel and People, A Solon, a Solon!

Huzza.
Sancho,
[Page]

Come, is there any more of ye, hoh, gad my hand is in rarely for business ever since the Cause of the Flask, and the Pheasant.

Aside.
Enter Pedro hastily.
Pedro,

Room, room here, where's my Lord the Governour?

Mannel,

There he is Doctor, what [...]s the matter?

Pedro,

Arm, arm, Sir, you are not safe this Minute, here's news now come, that several thousand of Buccaneers, Pirates and Banditty have entred your Island: here's a Letter sent too from the Duke to give you information, you must prepare for your defence immediately; there 'tis, pray read it and let us hear the Contents of our condition.

Sancho,

Humph, Tirte Aufuria, art thou here again, then there can be no good towards me I [...]m sure, the spightful-Rogue bids me read it too, and he knows I can as well do that as fly. Here, you Secretar [...], let's hear what this matter is, come read out, from another mouth I can Judge the better on't.

Mannel
reads the Letter.
Signior Sancho,

I am given to understand that c [...]rtain Enemies of mine, and of that Island, mean suddenly to give it a furious Assault: I know likewise that several Spies are entred there with design to kill you, for they stand much in aw of your great Abilities; take care of your self and Charge, and I will be ready to send you what Suc­cour I can.

Your Friend The DUKE.
Pedro,

Oh, unfortunate Estate of this unhappy Island, that be­cause of its Wealth and Fertility is perpetually plagu'd with Enemies, who bear a mortal spite to all those that rule; those damn'd Bandit­ty and Buccaneers have taken and flea'd three or four of our Gover­nours already.

Sancho,

The Devil they have.

Mannel,

The noise comes nearer, they are certainly entred my Lord, therefore come away quickly and Arm, and be our General, to lead us against the Enem [...].

Sancho,

'Dslife, I know no more what belongs to a General, than a General does to Cow-keeping: you knew my abilities well enough, and if you had not liked 'em, you should have told me so, and have taken your Government again, for if I am to be flea'd about it, I have made a fine bargain indeed.

Mannel,

'Dslife, they'l come upon us before we have taken up our Arms; but it never shall be said that I stood tamely and saw so fa­mous an Island lost: ile go and defend the Gates as long as I can against 'em.

Exit Man.
Pedro,
[Page 57]

And ile go and prepare a certain Poyson, and squirt it into their Eyes with a Sirringe, through the loophole of some private Avenue.

Exit.
Sancho,

Squirt at 'em, said he; ay, if that would drive the Enemy away, I am as well prepar'd for't as any body; but these Buck— [...]an­ditti Rogues I warrant carry Guns with Leaden pellets, that will make no more of a Governour's noddle, than if twere made of Pastboard— Hark, they are coming still—this your Ambition has brought you to Don Sancho; you must be a Governour with a murrain t'ye, you Plough-jobbing Rascal, you.

Noise of Drums, fighting and shouts.
Enter Teresa and Mary in their old Clothes.
Teres.

Oh that ever I was born; Oh, undone, undone, lost, ruin [...]d.

Mary,

Oh Vather, the saddest day that ever was known, my Mother and I have bin plunder'd and stripp'd yonder, the Men with the black Whiskers and Buff-Coats yonder have rouzled and frouzled us so, that they have left ne'er an inch of us unhandled—Oh Lord, and one of 'em snatch'd so furiously at me to get off my vine Petticoat, that udsli­dikins I thought once he had got away all.

Sancho,

Here one may see now, the true Emblem of fallen Authority; here's the Countess and her Daughter metamorphos'd already.

Teres.

Countess! Ah shame on't, thought what my Countessship would come too, if we had not s [...]ved our old Clothes by chance, we had gone home to Spin agen as naked as ever we were born.

Mannel—within.

Make this breach good, keep that gate there, raise those Ladders, fire the Pitch and Rozin, and get some Kettles of scald­ing Oyl ready.

Pedro—within.

Bring out the Governour, we know him by his R [...]be; deliver him up, we'll make a Truce, for here are a hundred of us have sworn to Roast him and Eat him for Supper.

Sancho,

Oh, Gadzooks, for Supper!

Sancho tre [...]bles.
Teres.

D'ye hear that, thou wretched Man? Come away quickly; down the back-way here, there's a close Walk to the Gard [...]n door may yet secure us.

Mary,

Come away Vather, come away; Oh Lord, when shall I be married now, I wonder?

Sancho,

Nay if like an Ermine I am so known by my Skin, e'en take it among ye, faith * Strips from his Robe.; if you would have the Muske-Cats fee too, I should hardly stand out if I thought you hunted me for that; but there [...]s no disputing the case now, you must fly, Governour; and if you save your Bones by the loss of your Jacket,

Thank Fortune that did safe through Dangers carry
Earl Sancho, from his Land of Baratary.
Exit Sancho.
[Page 58] Enter Mannel and Pedro.
Mannel,

Ha, ha, ha, ha; they are gone, the whole Nest are flown.

Pedro,

Here's the Robe of Authority left; the poor Snake has cast his Skin through fear.

Mannel,

Come, now let's make hast to the Duke, I know he longs to hear of the Comical Exit of the Governour.

Pedro,

Let's give the people a Hogshead of good Liquor to make merry with, for playing their parts so well, and then take horse and away.

Mannel,

Oh, I warrant ye they shall want no tipple, I have given order already.

Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Cardenio and Ambrosio.
Card [...]n.

NOT see this famous Combat? prithee, in what old rot­ten Tree or Tod of Ivy hast thou bin lurking? 'dsdeath thou givest thy self over to moroseness and melancholly of late—A pox, when once a Man of Letters comes to be mop [...]d, he grows a Coxcomb, and not fit for a friends Conversation.

Ambros.

Prithee, I gave no heed to the flying report; I heard indeed that a new-come Errant, that call'd himself the Knight of the Screech-O [...]l, had challeng [...]d Don Quixote to Combat him about the Beauty of their Mistresses; but I thought it only a Romantick Jest, and could not imagine it would have gone further.

Card [...]n.

If the Duke had not caused one of their Launces to be blunt­ed unkno [...]n to him, it had gone further assure you; but as the Tilt was now, our famous Don here was only vanquish'd, by being over­ [...]rown from his Horse, a [...]d b [...] that was oblig [...]d to perform any In­junction the Knight of the Screech-Owl should impose upon him.

Ambros.

And who is this new doubty Knight, prithee?

Card [...]n.

Nay, that as yet is a Secret; but h [...]s Commands are, That Don Quixote shall retire to his House, and bear no Arms for the space of one whole year— This, according to the Conditions of the Combat, he is punctually to perform, and the Duke and all are just coming hi­ther to entertain the new Knight, and see the business ratified.

Ambros.

Why this will certainly murder Dox Quixote with grief; he'll ne'er be able to have patience—How now, Winter-pippin; what news bring you? what Smock-stratagem or Curtain-intreague are you labouring with now, hah?

[Page 59] Enter Rodriguez.
Rodr.

Ay, y'are a cruel hard-hearted Wretch, to use a poor young thing as you have done her without there: she's come after ye again, ifaith, and as mad as a March-hare: A shame on her shallow pate, it should be long enough before I'd have crack'd my Brain for ere a one of ye.

Enter Marcella, Mad.
Carden.

By all that's good, Marcella— And now I remember me, I heard indeed she was run Mad for Love: What a barbarous fellow art thou to destroy a whole family at once!

Rodr.

Well then, there's an end of 'em: prithee let me go.

Carden.

Not yet, by Heaven; thou [...]alt hear her speak.

Marcel.

'Twill be to night; the God of Love has promis'd me, he'll bring him to me in his Mothers Chariot, drawn by white Doves, and with her Breath perfum'd: there lyes my dearest crown'd with fra­grant Roses, vigorous and young, and charming as a Deity. Hah! what do I see! The dear Man turn'd to a Draggon! See! see! his Mouth and Nostrils breathing Flames that singe my veins and scorch my heart to Cinders.

A SONG, at the Duke's Entertainment, by St. George and the Genius of England:
Sung by Mr. Freeman and Mrs Cibber.
Mr. Freeman.
GEnius of England, from thy pleasant Bow'r of Bliss,
Arise and spread thy sacred Wings:
Guard from Foes the British State,
Thou on whose smile does wait
Th' uncertain happy Fate
Of Monarchies and Kings.
Mrs. Cibber.
Then follow brave Boys to the Wars,
The La [...]rel you know's the Prize;
Who brings home the noblest Scars,
Looks finest in Celia's Eyes.
Then shake off the slothful Ease,
Let Glory inspire your Hearts;
Remember a Soldier in War and in Peace
Is the noblest of all other Arts.
Rodr.
[Page]

Alas poor crack-brain'd Creature!

Ambros.

Devil —

Card [...]n.

Sdeath, hast thou no human Nature? do's it not trouble thee [...] see her thus?

Amb [...]os.

To see her thus! why now she's in her Kingdom; her dar­ling Mischiefs now have gather'd head, and riot in her Brain: Oh, take this from me, friend; when once a Woman's mad, she's in per­fection.

Marcel.

What, is he going? nay then farewell dissembling—all fe­male Arts and Tricks begone, avaunt, and let the passion of my heart lye open: Turn, turn thou dearest pleasure of my Soul, and I will bathe thee with my Eyes fond Tears; lay thee upon my Breast panting with Love, and speak the softest words into thy Ears that ere were spoke by a kind yielding Maid; kiss thee with eager Joy, and press thee close, close to my heart till I am lost in transport, and am for that short time a Deity.

Ambros.

'Dsheart the Duke's coming too; prithee take her away, dear Rodriguez —I'll get thee a Husband for't one time or other.

Marcella sings.
A SONG,
Sung by Marcella.
I Burn, I burn, my Brain consumes to Ashes;
Each Eye-ball too, like Lightning flashes:
Within my Breast, there glows a solid Fire,
Which in a Thousand Ages can't expire.
Blow, blow, the Wind's great Ruler;
Bring the Po and the Ganges hither,
'Tis sultry, sultry Weather;
Pour 'em all on my Soul,
It will hiss like a Coal,
But never be the cooler.
'Twas Pride, hot as Hell,
That first made me Rebell,
From Love's awful Throne, a curst Angel I fell:
And mourn now the Fate,
Which my self did create;
Fool, fool, that consider'd not when I was well.
Adieu, adieu, transporting Ioys,
Off ye vain fantastick Toys,
That dress'd the Face and Body to allure;
Bring, bring me Daggers, Poyson, Fire,
For Scorn is turn'd into Desire;
All Hell feels not the Rage which I, poor I, endure.
Rodr.
[Page 61]

Ay, hang y [...]; ye all promise for one another, but you never care to come too't your selves— Well, not for that, but to get some Remedy for the poor Creature; I'll do't for once: Come Bird.

Exit.
Marc.

Bird, right; thou art the bird of Night: Come, I'll go with thee; by thy broad Face and toothless Gums I know thee, and that hook'd Nose that shades the Stumps remaining, thou art Grimalkin— Whoo, whoo, whoo—Come along, Bird.

sings.

Exeunt Marcel. and Rodr.
Carden.

Well, if thou art not strangely punish'd for this, I shall wonder.

Ambros.

Pish, prithee no bantring▪ See the Duke and Company.

Enter Duke, Dutchess, Luscinda, Don Quixote unarm'd of his Sword, and without a Helmet▪ Page, arm'd like a Knight, having a tawny Mask on with large black Whiskers, and a Buckler, whereon is painted a large Owl: Squire with a Launce and Slipper.
Don Qu.

Vanquish'd, because my Horse fell—Oh rigourous Laws of Chivalry! must my hard-got Renown, purchas [...]d with Danger, be poorly lost through Rosinante [...]s weakness? My Courage still stands fast, though he is fallen: I beg the Combat once more, I'll fight him in my Shirt, with a Dutch knife set sharp as any Razor.

Duke,

Oh, it must not be, friend; the Laws of Knighthood are, you know, inviolable: besides for you, the Quintessence of Errants, thus rashly to recant your own agreement, will be a flaw in your Renown for ever: Therefore take heed, not a word more of fighting.

Page,

What, does he murmur? does his high-flown Vanity think he's disgrac'd to be o'recome by me? Hah, noble Don, is't so?

Duke,

No, no: Valiant Sir, the Knight is highly satisfied in being vanquish'd by so brave a Warriour —Look up quickly and seem pleas'd, for this damn'd Knight of the Screech-Owl, now his hand is in, will worry us all else — 'dsheart what a terrible voice he has.

Page,

The Devil worry him and his Voice too, 'tis a very Screech-Owls to me indeed.

Dutch▪

Courage is not disgrac'd, though 'tis unfortunate; and though Don Quixote is batter'd and o▪re-thrown, he's valourous as ever.

Lusind.
And when his year of Penance is past o're,
Again may cudgel, and be cudgell'd more.
Carden.

One may see by his Looks, that his pate is plaguily harrass'd about this business.

Aside.
Ambros.

Oh, the whimsical Worms are all now at work—Ha, ha, ha.

Aside.
Don Qu.

Damn'd fortune, thou inconstant treacherous Strump [...]t, hast thou then serv [...]d me thus?

Duke,

Mum, mum, Sir; the Knight of the Screech-Owl observes ye.

Page,

Sir, I perceive you do not grace my Conquest with that clear brow, that Aspect of Contentment my Valour has deserv'd, but seem to lowre and grumble; and your fortune, as if you thought my Chains dis­graces to ye—Hah, speak thou conquer'd, art thou so presumptious?

Dutch.
[Page 62]

Oh, by no means Sir, the Knight was always a person of few words; and as to the Moodiness of his Phiz, 'ti [...] natural t [...] him; I dare [...]y for the Knight of the ill-favour'd face, tis not in his power to mend his Looks.

Lusind.

Besides, here being no occasion for mirth, some g [...]vity is be­coming.

Page,

Could I but think my easie penance given him exto [...]ted frowns, he soon should know my power. Blood of the Heroes, did not I in Ar­ [...]agon, o'recome the proud Don Guzman de Alvaro, who being my Slave by a just right of Conquest, I made his Neck my footstool to mount my horse by, nay, over the parch'd Plains forc'd him to carry a Sack of Bar­ley for his provender; nor was that all, for when at night we rested, to show my Power and punish his Ambition, I made him wash my Shirts and mend my Stockins.

Don Qu.

This is the very devil—Oons I tremble every inch of me.

aside.
Page,

And if I thought this Shrub, this Mushrom-Errant durst mut­ter discontents, or look as if Tobosian Dulcinea excell'd my bright Ca­stara de Vandalia, I'd set him instantly to stitch my Boots, and grease em with the Oyl of his own labour.

Card.

Say something quickly to him to mollifie; stitching of Boots is but a scurvy imployment.

Don Qu.

Lord [...]ir, what need you be so chollerick, I said nothing of Dulcinea that [...] know—Oons he has so cow'd me with his plaguy Voice and his confounded Whiskers, that I can't get out a hard word for the heart of me.

Ambros.

Ha, ha, ha, his heart's quite sunk, the blustring of the Screech-Owl has bullied him clearly.

Duke,

Come noble Warriour, be pleased to sit down a little, and to shew how much we prize all Knights of your brave Order; I'll beg ye to let my Servants shew their duty in a Musical Entertainment.

Page,

Your Grace is generous; and to shew my gratitude, I dedicate thus far of my sharp Sword to you, and yo [...]rs for ever; the rest is bright Castara de Vandalia's — Come I'll sit down, you Sir, stand by and wait.

To Don▪
Dutch.

Oh, not so, I beseech ye Sir; for my sake let him sit with us.

Page,

Your Grace shall then prefer him: sit down.

They seat themselves.
Don Qu.

Ah plague on your Whiskers — I'm in an Ague still.

A Dance here of the Seven Champions, then a Song
by St. Dennis.
DE foolish English Nation,
Dat former Conquest brag on;
Make strang a Discourse
Of St. George and his Horse,
And de Murd'ring of de Dragon:
But shou'd de French Invade 'em,
And boldly cross de Water,
How de Williamite here
Voud trembla for fear
Of de Jack grand Roy, mon Maitre.
[Page 63]You boast of your Fifth Henry,
Dat once in France did Forrage;
But to answer dat same
Do but read Nostredame,
Garzoon will cool your Courage:
Our Gold will take your [...]ity,
Tho' Fighting ne'er can get one,
Veel [...] Salsbury-Plain
Bring on Millions of Men,
D'en—Whei [...]—vere is Great-Brittain.
Page,

As much, my Lord, as can be possible for us that carry Arms to like soft pastimes—I am oblig'd for this; and that [...] may, when your occasions offer, be grateful to my power, be pleased to Command Alon­zo de Bubone of Castile, your Grace [...]s Champion, you soon may find me out, my Lord, by fame: bes [...]d [...]s, I'm of a family numerous and anci­ent, the Owls at Court are my relations all—City and Country throng with the Bubones, and 'mong [...] the Priesthood and the dagled Law are Numbers of Screech-Owls; in [...]onour of whom

This ample form [...] on my Buckler place,
And wear it for the Glory of my Race.
Dutch.

We are his Greatnesses, the Knight of the Screech-Owl's m [...]st humble Creatures.

Duke,

And now, brave Sir, I hope all animosities betwixt you and your nobl [...] Brother here are forgot: Come, I must have the honour to reconcile all matters; he has resolv'd to obey your Command, and re­tiring home, and bearing no Arms for a year; and you, according to the Conditions of the Combat, in honour can demand no more.

Page,

I am not lim [...]ted, my Lord; and I must tell your Grace, there is another small Injunction, which in obedience to the Laws of Chi­valry I must impose and he must execute: 'Tis this, my Lord; that since the Peerless Castara de Vandalia has influenc [...]d me with Conquest; and he adores the conquer'd Dulcinea; he therefore be oblig [...]d to wear th [...]t pre [...]ious Rellick my Squire has there; which is, that fair ones, Slip­per, during his Truce from Arms, and Year of Pennance —

Duke,

Oh▪ that he shall do most Ceremonially.

Duke puts the Slipper on Don Quixote.
Carden.

'Twill look like some new kind of Order, and give him good occasion from thenceforth to call himself the Knight of the Or­der of the Slipper: that once perform'd, he's free.

Don Qu.

Well, I see now that wise Man was in the right, that s [...]id Valour was a Vertue between two vicious extreams, Cowardice and Tem [...]rity: I'm in the snare, and I must get out on't as well as I can; make Laws and keep Laws, as Sancho us'd to say when his Mouth run over with Proverbs: And therefore since tis my for­tune, I will travel home with my new Order here as patiently as I can: And so farwell t'ye all; nay, let no one touch me, nor speak a word more, for my heart's too full to bear any Complementing; and as low as my stomach is brought, I could eat that roaring Knight up methinks [Page 64] if it were not for his Whiskers: but since 'tis as 'tis, let Fate bear the blame on't, whilst I▪

This long Year study to wipe off my stain;
The next, in glittering Arms, shine out again.
Exit.
Duke,

Ha, ha, ha, ha; farewell poor Knight-Errantry, you must know I have bin weary of the mad fool of late, and so contriv'd this trick to send him home to his house to be cur [...]d.— And now Sig­nior Don Alonzo de Bubone, be pleas [...]d to veil your Whiskers.

Carden.

The Page, as I live, the Rogue alter'd his vo [...]ce, so I did not know him.

Dutch.

Ha, ha, ha; nothing could be acted better indeed: Well Sir, my Lord Duke shan't forget your diligence.

Page,

One of the Servants told me in a whisper just now▪ my Lord, that your Grace may now have an account of Sancho's f [...]ight from B [...] ­rataria, for the Steward and the Doctor are just come from thence.

Duke,

Oh come then, let [...]s in, that story will be very grateful at dinner: Cousin, I have a small affair with you too, but this is no time to chide: besides, I hope you will satisfie me in some passages I heard lately of you, which seem to blast your Vertue and Reputa­tion: I must have a Minute to confer with you about it.

Ambros.

With all my heart, my Lord.

Lusind.

I have heard of your humour, Sir; and I hope my Lord Duke will punish thee, for refusing poor Marsella, thou inveterate Wo­man-hater.

Dutch.

Come my Lord, Methinks I long to hear how the Countess Teresa, and her Daughter Mary the Buxom, behave themselves in their change of fortune.

Carden.

Very Comically, no doubt, Madam, and must certainly di­vert when your Grace comes to hear their several Histories.

Duke,

Which, to rellish our Meat and Wine the better, I intend shall entertain us presently; amongst the rest of diversions, there are two that are always very recreative, which are a fool in Person, and a fool in Character; the fool in Person, we have just now had a Scene of; and as to the fool in Character,

The Governour not being now before ye,
You must content your selves with Sancho's story.
Exeunt omnes.
FINIS.
THE Comical History …

THE Comical History OF DON QUIXOTE. The Third Part. WITH THE MARRIAGE OF Mary the Buxome.

Written by Mr. D'Urfey

Non omnes Arbusta juvant humiles (que) myricae.
Vir.

LONDON, Printed for Samuel Briscoe, at the Corner of Charles-street, in Russelstreet, Covent-Garden. 1696.

Where is also to be had the Songs, set to Musick by the late famous Mr. Pursel, Mr. Courteville, Mr. Aykerod, and other eminent Masters of the Age.

To the Right Honourable Charles Monta­gue Esq one of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, Chancellour of the Exchequer, and one of His Majesty's most Honourable Privy Council.

SIR,

THough I know your Character is adorned with so much Goodness and Humility, that it could dispense with, and excuse even such a pre­sumption as a Dedication of the following Piece, yet I must with Modesty decline such Pretensions, and own, That tho' its innate Defects are not so ob­noxious as are supposed, yet its publick Misfortune has so lessened its Reputa [...]ion, as has made it unca­pable of deserving such an Honour.

My whole Extent of Ambition then is, having th [...]s Opportunity of the Press, (instead of it) most humbly to dedicate my self, a Presumption perhaps lit [...]le inferiour to the other; nor can I forbear to br [...]ng you what all the rest of my Tribe do to In­dulgent Patrons, viz. an Inconvenience—whilst Poetical Impertinence attends the good Offices you do, and Generous Condescension and Good Nature creates your Trouble.

[Page]But Sir, be pleased to remember however, That you are the Cause of this Inconvenience—Had you been less affable and obliging, I had been more [...]imorous and modest. Had your eye shot the haugh­ty Austerity upon me of a right Courtier, great i [...] Dignity and Office, mine had quickly been dazled and had seen no farther; nor had your valued mi­nutes ever been disturb'd with dilatory Trifles o [...] this Nature; but my Heart, amongst the rest of th [...] World, on dull Consideration of your Merit, had supinely wish'd you Prosperity at a distance, tha [...] now, warm'd by your Influence, and embolden' [...] by your Smiles, can be contented with nothing les [...] than laying it self at your Feet, and pretending to the particular Honour of your Favour.

Condescension to grant Admittance, and Gene­rous Will to do good Offices, are rare Virtues in Great Men at Court; and he is fortunate whos [...] Dependance there answers his Expectation. Bu [...] when a Poet's happy Stars guide him to one who not only is glad to meet occasion to befriend him, but that eagerly seeks it out, who though continu­ally fatigu'd with great Employments in the State, and hourly busied in the noble Service of his King and Cuuntry, yet will generously spare a few Mi­nutes from publick Affairs to do an humble Suito [...] a good Turn; one that never entertain'd such a on [...] without a welcome Smile, if he could effect his [Page] Desire, or a good natur'd, courteous and modest Dismission, if he could not: One that, tho' a Cour­tier, never forgot his Promise, but perpetually gives the World occasion to own his Word as sacred as his other Virtues. [...]Tis to a Mecaenas like this my Heart devotes it self; 'tis him it will admire; nor is it possible for me to suppress its Ambition.

Now Sir, since every discerning Judgment must allow this to be your Character, be pleased to par­don me, who write it as a plain Truth, not as Praise, but your undoubted Due: For I dare no more pre­tend to praise you, than presume to equal your Wit or other Excellencies. My Design is only grate­fully to acknowledge and publish to the World how much I am obliged to your Virtues, without les­sening their Value by my unnecessary Applauses.

Amongst all good Qualities that seem Praise-worthy in human Nature, the most proper and most reasonable is Gratitude; and amongst all persons, on whom for Benefits received there is a Duty In­cumbent, I, Sir, am most obliged to own my Ac­knowledgments to you: for never had any one less Opportunity to deserve your Kindness, nor ever had any one more generous or hearty Proofs of it. And since 'tis decreed that my humble Fate will permit me to express my Gratitude no other way than by Expression, Thanks, and verbal Acknowledg­ment, That, Sir, whilst I live be pleased to believe [Page] you shall hourly receive, large and unbounded as your Generous Intentions to me.

Amongst all your numerous Favours, be pleased, Sir, to let me own the first, (which shall eternally grow to my Heart and Memory,) which was your sending for me to introduce me to The late Adored Queen of ever Glorious Memory: Of all whose graci­ous Smiles on me, enrich'd with Royal Bounty, you and your good Lady, my ever honoured Patroness, were the happy Causes. When Majesty, like the Sun, shone with a Heavenly Influenee, you took care to plant me in the View, and gave me the Op­portunity of receiving the Grace that follow'd; nor did you stop there, but afterwards made me known and honoured me with your good Word to most of the principal Nobility, the true Patrons of Po­ets and their Art, by whom I have not since been forgot, and whose Favour is a certain Fortune to any Son of the Muses. And this most generous and uncommon Grace, Sir, when I cease to remem­ber, or fail in point of Duty, you may certainly take it for granted, I am ceased to be at all.

And now Sir, That my Ambition may know its bounds, and soar no farther, let me beseech you to accept of this Dedication of my self and Duty; and likewise be pleased to receive this Trifle of a Play, [...]ack'd to it to divert you a Minute, when such a [Page] space from Business will permit: For I am not ig­norant, no more than the rest of Mankind, of the troublesome Diligen [...]e your Zeal for the King and your Country exac [...]s from you, the Care of your great Charge and Offices, or of the Envy your Virtue raises in ill Men; yet I am confirm'd it can­not possibly turn to your Prejudice, but that as you was an Honour to the last Parliament, you will still be acknowledged so to this, and raise your Reputation yet higher, (if possible) to an Emi­nence equal to your Merit; whilst I with Pride fix my Fame at its Ne plus ultra, in bearing the Title of,

SIR,
Your most Humble, and most Devoted Servant, Tho. D'Urfey.
[...]
[...]

PREFACE.

I Had not troubled the Reader with a Preface, did I not find it extreamly reasonable to vindicate my self a little, as well as the en [...]uing Sh [...]ets, ag [...]inst the unnatural Mistakes, [...] Iudgment, and Malice of some part of the Auditory when this Play came upon the Stage: And as I will not de [...]end the [...]aults which with Iustice and unby [...]ssed Opinion it is taxed with, so on the other side I will not be run down without defence, when perhaps I can prove the cause of its miscarriage not to be through its own defect, (as 'tis generally be­liev'd) but occasion'd by the ill nature of an invete­rate Faction, and some unlucky accidents happening in its representation. In the first place therefore I must inform the Reader, that this Third Part before it came upon the Stage was acknowledg'd and believ'd by all that saw it, and were concern'd (as well those that heard it read, as those that w [...]re Actors, who certainly, every one must own, are in their Affairs skilful enough to know the value of things of this nature) to be much the best of all the Three Parts; of which Opinion I must also confess my self to be, and do not doubt, that when it is impartially read and judg'd, to find many more to join with me in that belief.

But as all Dramatick Pieces that depend upon Hu­mour must receive their good or ill Fate from the good or ill Humour of the Audience, this it seems had the [Page] [...] to meet with the latter; and tho prepar'd by my indefatigable Diligence, Care, Pains, nay, the variety which I thought could not possibly miss the ex­pected Success, yet by some Accidents happening in the Presentment, was disliked and exploded; The Songish part which I used to succeed so well in, by the indiffe­rent performance the first day, and the hurrying it on so soon, being streightned in time through ill manage­ment— (tho extreamly well set to Musick and I'm sure the just Critick will say not ill Writ) yet being imperfectly performed, was consequently not pleasing; and the Dances too, for want of some good Performers, also disliked; all which, tho impossible for me to avoid, and not reasonably to be attributed any way to a fault in me, yet the noisy Party endeavoured to use me as ill as if it were, till the gen [...]rous Opposition of my Friends gave me as much r [...]ason to thank them for their Iustic [...], as to despise the others Malice.

I must confess when I heard the Ladies were preju­dic'd about some A [...]ions and Sayings in Mary the Buxome's and Sancho's Parts, I was extreamly con­cern'd, not that I was conscious to my self I had justly offended, because I know no other way in Nature to do the Characters right, but to make a Romp speak like a Romp, and a Clownish Boor blunder out things pro­per for such a Fellow, but that I should in doing this unfortuna [...]ely have 'em counted nauseous and unde­cent, and so disoblige that Essential part of the Au­dience which I have always 'studied with so much Zeal to divert in all my former Plays with Innocent Mirth, Scenes of Decency and Good Manners.

[Page]In exposing Humour, some Course Saying [...] will [...] turally happen, especially in Farce and Low Comedy and [...]tis some sort of Excuse for me that I can affirm [...] A Iest adapted to the Genious of the Pit bearing some little distant Obscenities and double Ente [...]ders, has past currantly in all the Comedies of the past and present Age, tho I have now the ill Luck to be most de­tected; I am sure, offending in that nature is much a­gainst my design of pleasing; and I have through Nineteen of the Twenty Plays I have writ, always studied to shun it as much as I can, for my own parti­cular satisfaction, as well as to oblige th [...] Nicer part of the Audience.

As to the Poppet Shew in the Fourth Act, the Acci­dent of its being, plac'd so far from the Audience, which hindred them from hearing what eithe [...] they or the Prolocutor said was the main and o [...]ly reason of its diverting no better; and as I cannot blame a [...] Audienc [...] for finding fault on such [...] occasion, so I desire my Im­partial Reader and Iudge to w [...]gh in the [...]e [...]usal o [...] it whether I have no [...] done my Part, and whether that Scene is not wove in properly with the rest of the Hi­story, and more likely to give satisfaction than any of the rest, tho it unhappily succeeded otherwise; As for those that call it Bartholomew-Fair St [...]ff they, I'm sure, never digested Don Quixote's History, or at least tha [...] part of it where the Poppet Shew is prese [...]ted, that Passage being, as I always thought, and as a Noble Person of as much Honour and Wit as any that pretend to Iudge of these Matters, was pleased to allow is the m [...]st Material Extravagant Foolery that ever Don [Page] Quixote was guilty of throughout all his Whimsical A [...]ventures, and therefore most proper to be inserted in the Play. To finish then▪ as it is the most difficult undertaking that can be to find out new Humour to please in so Critical an Age as ours is, so 'tis some pleasure to me to know, that my severe Iudges cannot hinder me from the Reputation of having di­verted them for several years together in spite of their own ill Nature: A hard task indeed,— And amongst Men of Sense and Iustice, one would think should exact a modest hearng, if once in Seven years a Play should fail in diverting, especially when Accidents are the Material Cause,—but since that blessing is not to be expected by a Poet, nor the Modest Method of the old Romans at all proper to be an Example to our Critical and over-witty Britains, let Folly and ill Nature vent its Spleen till its own unreasonableness makes it nauseous to the World. Oblig'd with the kind Indulgence and Instruction of some few Superior Iudgments, I will contentedly sit dow [...], [...]d s [...]y to all the others, as a fa­mous Wit once said before;

Let but some few, whom I omit to name,
Approve my Work, I count their Censure Fame.

PROLOGUE

Enter Mr. Horden.
Hord.
THrice on one Subject to empl [...] a Muse,
'Tis own'd has very seldom been in use.
Yet thus far I the Poet's Ca [...]se pur [...]ue;
Suppose one had a Mi [...]tr [...]ss fair a [...]d true;
Is three times Visiting so much to do?
Don Quixote like a Beauty that ne'er clo [...]d,
Should charm anew, though twen [...]y times, enjoy'd.
Thus for the Author then most humbly praying—
Enter Miss Cross.
Miss C.
Hold Mr. Horden, hold, what are you saying▪
If it be any thing of Prologue nature,
K [...]ow I am come to help ye in the matter.
Come, make your Honours, and begin agen;
You are to court the Ladies—I the Men.
Come, come, your Bow — your Speech too, quick and [...]hort.
Lord, y'are so dull methinks—
Hord.

Lord, y'are so pert.

Miss C.
Your Love to th' Poet sure i [...] wondrous small.
Why, you say nothing—
Hord

—Because you say all.

Miss C.
I must say something, if you wonn [...] spe [...]k
Toth' Ladies; come, what offers can you make?
Hord.
Fai [...], I can offer nothing that they'll take.
The Poet must excuse me; I can't prattle,
N [...]r a [...]k 'em ought—unless to drink a Bottle.
Miss C.
— A Bottle — Are good manners quite forgot?
I [...] that a thing to ask the Ladies—Sot?
Are Ladies prop [...]r to be so Harrangu'd?
Hord.

Why not—

Miss C.
Incense should smoke where Beauty's Beams do sh [...]ne,
The Mistress of all hearts, a Power Divine.
Hord.

Every one in [...]is way—a Bottle's mine.

Miss. C.
Nay, then I see 'tis an Affront design'd▪
F [...]r which henceforth I'll B [...]nter all your kind,
Praise a pert Coxcomb's awkerd Shape and Air,
T [...]ll [...] b'Chesnut colour'd Spark he's wond [...]ous fair▪
[Page]Admire a third, w [...]se C [...]t [...] gr [...]y,
Lo [...]ks li [...]e a Mill [...]r [...]n a M [...]e [...] day.
Or his, [...] Flanders come [...],
With [...]o [...]t [...]ing Sleeves that reach down to his [...]
Commend [...]ue's Foot and hand, another's Nose.
I'll have [...] thousand Tricks to feel the Beans.
Shew 'em by dancing what to [...]rt belongs;
Or if that fail, I'll charm 'em with new Songs:
And thus I'll dr [...]w 'em to the Play in Throngs.
I will but throw 'em out my Hook and streight
Shoals of Male Gudgeo [...]s nibble at the Bait;
Some by Diversion of my Voice—and some
I [...] Expectation of my Prime to come.
Hord.
Why then you think—
Your Interest with the Sparks i [...] [...]drous strong.
Miss. C.

Yes: What think you—

Hord.

—Child, th' art three years too youn [...].

Miss [...].
Perhaps as much too young, a [...] you too good;
Yet 'tis as I would have it understood.
Hord.
Nay▪ I confess th'art planted in a pla [...],
Where, like a M [...]llon underneath a Glass,
The Towns wa [...]m Beams soon Ripeness will prod [...].
No Hot Bed like a Play-house for th [...]t use.
Miss C.
Think what you please I'll follow Virtue's Rules,
And keep my Mellon close from Kn [...]ves and Fools.
And now, to turn out of this [...] way—
Be pleas'd but quietly to bear t [...]e Play,
Then if you can laugh, you sh [...]ll do't to day.
Hord.

Why, that's w [...]ll said, my D [...]—So let's away.

Exeunt.

EPILOGUE

By Mary the Buxo [...]e.
WEll, Gentlefolk, I dare now Wage a Crown,
You take me for the veriest Romp in Town —
But e're I part from ye▪ I'll let ye see,
There's other Molly Buxomes besides me.
More Hoydens, that as awker'd G [...]mbols shew:
I'll warrant Forty in that upper Row
to the Gallery.
Icod, perhaps too, Forty more below.
to the Pit.
They're just like Hens; They'll b [...] amongst the Cocks.
Let's see, is ne're a one in the Side Box?
Yes—There's a S [...]inger—by yo [...] Bully Rocks.
Then let me look in th' Places too foreright.
Humph! strange; I think there's ne'ere a one tonigh [...].
Each of 'em thought I'd paint her for a Blowze;
And so they're gone, Icod, to t'other Ho [...]se.
Gadslidikins! What wou'd I give t'have shewd
You, Errant Knights a Romp in a Comm [...]de.
Fo [...] if the Trut [...] with R [...]ason ma [...] be spoke,
One may be found among the Gentlefolk;
Who, though she gravely does to Visit come,
Will [...]ap upon the Fo [...]tmens Backs at home.
The Country Wife too, she that comes to town,
To see her Ki [...], and buy a tawdry Gown.
Goes to a Play, there hoydens with the men,
C [...]ckolds here Spouse, and so Romps down agen.
H [...]re too about the Streets they swarm like Bees;
And all the Nation round, through all Degr [...]es:
From the Court Velvet Scarf, the Gay and Witty,
To her that slabbers Custard in the City:
From thence back here again to Bulking Betty.
And so good night. 'Tis time to end my D [...]ty.
Exit.

[Page]

Don Quixote.Mr. Powell.
[...]M [...]. N [...]th.
[...].An [...]c [...]omplisht Gentleman, but poor, [...] to Quitteria. Acted by Mr. Horden.
Camach [...].A jolly fat-headed Farmer, very rich, but very dull and ignorant, given by her Friends for a Husband to Qui [...]ter [...]a. Acted by Mr▪ B [...]llock.
Iaques.A [...]lownis [...] Country Fellow▪ Hind to C [...]macho, and to be married to Mary the Buxome. Acted by Mr. Pinke [...]an.
Carrasco.A Batchelor of Salamancha, Friend to Basilius, learned, drolling, brisk, and witty , and perpetually bantring Don Qui [...]ote and Sancho. Acted by Mr. Verbrugen.
Gines de Passamonte, Peter.alias Master of the Puppet-sh [...]. Acted by Mr. Lee.
Charlemain.Puppets, design'd to be Acted by Children.
Mar [...]ilius.Puppets, design'd to be Acted by Children.
Orlando.Puppets, design'd to be Acted by Children.
Don Gayf [...]rosPuppets, design'd to be Acted by Children.
Melisendra.Puppets, design'd to be Acted by Children.
[...]ishop Turpin.Puppets, design'd to be Acted by Children.
Guards and Retinue.Puppets, design'd to be Acted by Children.
Carter to the Lyon.Mr. Smeaton.
Women.
Quitteria.A young witty Virgin, Daughter to an old Gentleman of small For­tune, betrothed to Basilius, but for­ced by him to marry Camach [...]. Acted by Mrs. Finch.
Dulcinea del T [...]boso.Mr. Smeaton
Teresa.Sancho's Wife. Acted by Mrs. Powe [...].
Mary the B [...]xome.His Daughter. By Mrs. Verbruggen.
Altisidora,Woman and Confident to Quitteria. By Mrs. Cross.
Clowns, Musicians, Dancers, and Attendants.

The SCENE, A Pleasant Meadow, near a Village.

THE Comical History OF DON QUIXOTE.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Discovers a Cage with a Lion in a Cart, Don Quixote with his Sword drawn standing over the Carter kneeling; Carasco, Ba­silius, standing by, and Sancho upon a Tree near him.
Don Quix.

SLave, open the Cage, or die.

offers to kill him.
Carter,

Oh, Good Sir Knight be pacified.

Basil.

'Dsdeath, Sir, are ye mad? d'ee know what you bid him do? Have you a mind to have us all torn to pieces?

Carras.

'Dslife, I have cry'd up Knight Errantry to fine purpose, if I must stand by and see him and my self worried about it.

Don Q.

Oh! good Sir Counsel-giver, if you fear that, put your self in safety, and begon—Sirrah, open quickly, or I'll open your pud­dings with this.

offers to run him through.
Cart.

Oh Lord, Sir, the Lyon has not eaten all this day, and is so hungry that he'll make no more of us than of so many Kittlings—At three mouthfuls we shall be in his Puddings our selves, Sir.

Don Q.

Cowardly Villain—Dog, Dog, do it, or—

offers again.
Cart.

Well, well, Sir, I will, I will—Oh▪ that ever I was born! What will become of me—

Basil.

Nay, if my Counsel has no better Effect, e'en let your Don­ship fight your Battle by your self; if you are for duelling of Lyons, [Page 2] you had best get an armed Rhinoceros for your Second; for my part, I'm for no Tilts with these four-footed sharp-phang'd Antagonists, so will prudently withdraw.

Carras.

And I — This is no time for bantring.

Exeunt.
Don. Q.

Poorness of Spirit! How I look down upon 'em—Of all the Passions plaguing weak Humanity, the basest sure is fear—Come, Fellow, hast thou done?

Cart.

Done! yes, yes, Sir, time enough, Sir, time enough Done! —sbud, where shall I save my self?

he unbolts the Cage, and runs and gets upon another Tree
Don Q.

The General of Oran sends not this Lyon, as thou hast said, [...]oth' King; but some Enchanter sends it to try me — to prove my Courage and undaunted Soul—He shall be satisfied— Sancho, where art thou?

Sanc.

Here, here, Sir, here, 'oons where

speaks out of the Tree,

should I be? I intend to be no Lyon's meat to day, not I—And d'ye hear, Sir, pray take my advice for once, and let him alone; you see he says nothing to you, but as the Proverb says, tho the Bear be gen­tle, don't bite him by the nose — Sweet Don, let him be quiet, and come away.

D. Q.

Dull Insect, that canst imagine to knock manly Resolution oth' head with a Proverb: Come away! Alas, poor Soulless Wretch, what, from the Road of Glory, on which this third time I have made my Sal­ley, to exercise the Function I was born for! No, no, Don Quixote stirs not from the Path of Honour, tho hemm'd with Lyons fiercer than that fam'd one that in th'Nemaean Vale was quell'd by Hercules — Let me see, where shall I best attack him? Lyons, to me, to me, your Lyon; Whelps. Come all ye Inchanters, that have form'd this Monster to [...]ry my Valour, bestride your fiery Dragons, and behold me; behold this hand tear from his hollow Trunk the bloody Heart, and dash it in your Faces.

Cart.
on the Tree,

Hark ye me, Friend, now I have got my self out of harms way, I don't care much if I spend another wise word or two upon ye: Therefore for your life, d'ye hear, don't meddle with his Throat, but get you packing if you intend to eat your Supper to night. Gadslidikins, there are a pair of Portcullises before it, that some Folk call Teeth, that will make no more to grind that Arm of yours than if 'twere a black pudding; therefore once more I say take care.

Don Q.

Come forth, thou miscall'd Terrour of the Forest, and try if thou canst make me give thee ground. Men say thou art the King of Beasts; come forth, and shew thy Royal Bravery; do it, and whet thy clawish Weapons keen to oppose my Force, and speedily, or I shall believe thee-not to have Courage proper for thy Bulk, but that like thy Diminutive, a Ca [...], thou art only valiant in Confinement — Come, come forth, I say▪

The Lyon turns his Tail to him.
Sanc.
[Page 3]

Oh! for Heaven's sake, Sir, don't go so near him; you see he turns his back side to ye, to let you see how much he minds what you say; therefore pray don't trouble your self with picki [...]g his T [...]eth, nor challenging his Claws, for if one of those crooked Nippers should get hold on ye, the Lord have mercy upon ye for a Knight Errant.

Don Q.

Hah! By Dulcinea's Life, the Monster fears me, and [...]a [...]es not meet the Lustre of my eyes— ay —'tis so—'tis now shewn plain, his back parts tremble at me.

Cart.

O Sir, pray hold your self contented, he only shakes his Tail in contempt—and if you are wise, stand farther off; for if he gives ye a thump with the b [...]nch at the end on't, he'll knock you as flat as a Flounder.

Don Q.

By all my Fame, tis now as clear as Truth, my daring Co [...] ­rage has quite daunted him— Sancho, come down, and give him three Bastinadoes with a Cudgel to provoke him to come out.

Sanc.

I give him three Bastinadoes—not for three Kingdoms Gad­zooks, I—Come Sir, too much Mettle is dangerous in a blind Horse: Content your self with the thought that he dares not come out t'ye, and so the Victory is yours—And good Sir, put him to no f [...]r [...]her Tryal

Don Q.

I have challeng'd him fairly.

Cart.

Ay, ay, Sir, we are both Witnesses of that—I'll cokes in with him, it may be he'll leave off, and I may save my Horses by't,

aside

that else would certainly be torn to pieces.

Don Q.

Dar'd him, and boldly; and the Inchanter sent him.

Sanc.

Ye have ye have, Sir, and we'll both of us give ye a Certificate that he has refus'd to answer ye.

Cart.

'Sbud you have done wonders, Sir—and to stickle more in the business were only to tempt Providence as one may say.

Don Q.

Fellow, thou'rt in the right, and I'm oblig'd to think my Honour satisfied: For as the Laws of Chivalry direct us, no Comba­tant is tyed to do more than to defie an Enemy; if he refuse, he is dis­comfited.

Sanc.

Right, right Sir; Odsheartlikins you never argued better in your Life-time—He speaks a little Sense now; pray Heaven it hold.

Don Q.

Come down then, Friend, and shut the Cage—And San­cho, descend, and call to those that fled—come quickly—thou art so tardy in every thing.

Carter comes down.
Sanc.

Hold a little, good Sir, and let me but see the Pin in the door, and I'll be as nimble as an Eell in your Service; for perhaps the Lyon, though he cares not to scratch the Hide of a lean Knight, may have a Fancy to chew the Cud with a plump Squire—Oh! now I think I may venture.

Comes down, and Exit.
Cart.

So, now all's secure again, and give ye Joy of your Victory▪ Sir Knight —for Gads digs, little did I think to see that Madrid [Page 4] Face of yours look so cheerily by this time—But let it be as it is, you have done Wonders, as I said before.

Don Q.

'Tis well, and there's a Ducket for thy Reward— Oh, the unvalued Virtue of true Valour: Well may Inchanters make me unfortunate, but of that Essence they can ne'er bereave me.

Enter Basilius, Carrasco, and Sancho.
Basil.

Though Sancho has told us how the business was, yet let's re­solve to cry up the Exploit,

Carras.

O as much as if he had quarter'd the Lyon and eaten him. May Wreaths of Oak, the Meed of mighty Conquerors, for ever flou­rish on Don Quixote's head.

Basil.

Thrice worthy, and eternally renown'd, I congratulate your Victory. We hear the Lyon trembled to behold you, nor durst ac­cept your Challenge.

Don Q.

Both these saw it.

Cart.

Yes truly, the Beast's hinder parts shook like an Aspen Leaf, as the saying is.

Sanc.

The truth on't is, he did wag his Tail very frightfully.

Don Q.

The Inchanters therefore have not now prevail'd: This is my hour, my Friends.

Basil.

Still may it prove so, fortunate and happy.

Embracing.
Corasc.

Thou Soul, Heart-blood, and Genius of Knight Errantry.

Don Q.

Go, fellow, to Madrid, and tell the King Don Quixote did this Action, no longer now Knight o'th' Ill-favour'd Face, but with new Title grac'd—Knight of the Lyon.

Cart.

Very well Sir, When e'er I've occasion to drink a Flagon with his Majesty, I shall make bold to do your Errand; and so Good by t'ye. Ha, ha, ha, tell the King, said he— Ah Lord save thy craz'd Pate.

Exit. Scene shuts.
Basil.

When I saw first the Lyon's flaming eyes, I could not think the Adventure was so easie.

Don Q.

Ah—to a valiant Heart and resolute Will, nothing is hard.

Carrasc.

I was confirm'd, he would succeed — and do still prophesie that more and greater things shall court his Valour—But now Friend, setting this Discourse aside, I think it proper to inform the noble Knight of the Lyon your Suit to him, which is to make one in the Plot to mor­row at Camacho's Wedding, who is, by Compulsion of Friends, to marry with Quiteria, the rich Andr [...]gio's Daughter. I suppose your Greatness has heard of the former Love between her and my Friend Basilius here.

Don Q.

I have, thou Frog of Ag [...]nippe, thou Nursling of Parnassus, perpetual Delight of the Salamanca Schools, I have; and am well known [...]oo in his Worth and Virtues: I've also heard Camacho is a Dolt, a sor­did [Page 5] Lump, a Glutton, that crams his Paunch, but that neglects his Mind, laugh'd at and scorn'd by every Man of Sense, not prais'd by any one but Sancho there, whose Brains are in his Belly.

Sanc.

Ay▪ ay, say what you please of my Belly, or Camacho's either; he has refresh'd me often with good Bee [...] and Brewis—and as f [...]r as a good Word or a Compliment goes, my Paunch and my Brains too shall be at his Service▪ Besides, he has sent for my Wife and Daughter from home, and offers Mary a good Dinner, who is to be married to morrow, and so to let both Weddings go as one. Come, ' [...]is an ill Workman that quarr [...]ls with his own Tools. I wonder when my Ma­ster would have done as much for her.

Don Q.

Why, Sancho, I did not think the Girl was prone to marry.

Sanc.

Not prone! yes, and blown too; Shee's so ripe, she'd have fall'n off the Tree with a little more shaking— Oh! yonder comes her Mo­ther, and Gadzooks my Son-in-Law with her—I warrant they want me for something.

Don Q.

Oh! 'Tis likely, therefore we'll leave thee to her. And now worthy Sir,

to Basilius.

be assured, That in any Action where Ju­stice or Honour are concern'd, tho ne'er so dangerous, Don Quixote shall be foremost.

Basil.

Spoke like the Star of Gallantry.

Carasc.

Farewel Sancho; Whatever business employs us, we shall re­serve a Minute to wish Mary the B [...]xom Joy.

Basil.

Oh, that we must in course.

Exeunt D. Q▪ Bas. and Car.
San.

Ay, you may wish her what you please; but I'm sure I wish'd her hang'd this morning; my wise Son-in-Law that's coming yonder will have a hopeful Bargain of her; she's the plaguiest Ramp, the ve­riest Hoyden, and, what's the mischief on't, grows every day worse than other. As I was looking up to the Sun-dial this morning, to see what a Clock 'twas, what does this heedless Quean do, but throws out of the Window a great Jordan full of Liquor luke warm just into my mouth; Gadzooks, I was over head and ears, like an Ache-bo [...]e in a Powdering tub—But come, thanks to good luck she's going; this Fool will venture on her, and much good may she do him: He loves Mutton well that can dine upon the Wool. Marry your Son when you will, your Daughter when you can. And if Coxcombs went not to Market, bad Ware would no [...] be sold—There's three Proverbs for her however; 'tis all the Portion she's like to have, that I know of.

Enter Jaques and Teresa.
Teres.

Come, Man, what have you been doing? I thought you'd have made more haste home, being you know to morrow is to be so busie a day.

Sanc.

Doing? Why, conquering Lyons, challenging wild Beasts, get­ting Honour, crooked Rib—a whole Cartload full.

Ter [...]s.
[Page 6]

Lyons! What Lyons, Fool?

Sanc.

What Lyons, Fool! I won't tell ye, Fool — Oh, Son in-Law, good morrow, good morrow.

Iaq.

Good morrow, Vather-in-Law.

Sanc.

Well, and how goe matters — How does your Spouse that is to be and you agree, humph?

Iaq.

Why, by Conscience I like the young Woman well enough; she's a thought too thick and squat, but when she's married, that Bel­ly of hers will come down with working.

Sanc.

How's that? Gadzooks have a care what you say; why, she had rather her Belly should get up than down when she's married, man: Not a word more of that good Son-in-Law.

Teres.

Gadslid, I would not Mary should have heard him for a hun­dred Pounds.

Clapping her hands

I know the Girl's humour so well, that if she had heard him say that, she would never have endured him after.

Iaq.

Pshaw wagh, I did not mean jokingly, not I by Conscience; I warrant when she's my Wife, Mary shall have no cause to complain: And by Conscience I like Mary much the better, because I think she's a Maid; and for my part, I don't love a Pippin that other Folks have handled: Now, though she be a little unsightly sometimes, yet I believe Mary is a pure Maid by Conscience.

Teres.

As when I bound her head first with a Biggen, I'll be sworn for her; besides, the Girl is mighty meekly minded, she'll not speak for Money, Meat, nor Cloaths — she'll soon think she has enough, I'll say that for Mary.

Sanc.

Ah, the Devil's in that old lying Jade; 'oons the noise of 20 Powder-mills come not near her, if she want but her Bread and Butter in a Morning—

aside

Contrary to Woman-kind, Crooked Rib; for the Proverb says, a young Woman, a Priest, and your Poultry, think they never have enough — Ha, ha, ha.

Teres.

So, old Sandy-beard, you have always some good thing to say of the Women still—but I'm sure you have no cause to prate, for you have had a good one; and if you did not like me because I was young when we married, you might have taken my Mother, she was old enough, and we both lived in a house.

Sanc.

No, No, Matrimony, not so neither; one had as good eat the Devil, as the Broth he's boil'd in: Besides, you were both so like, there was nought to chuse. She had a Tongue like Thunder— and I think, Spouse mine, yours is not always as still as a Dormouse: Like Mother like Daughter, faith—and if the Mare have a bald Face, the Philly will have a Blaze.

Teres,

Humph, will it so, goodman Garlick-eater—Hang ye, don't lye vexing me, but come your ways home, and help to sit our Mary; she's like to have her Shoes soal'd, and her blue Jacket edg'd with green, if you won't look after it, but stand Idling here.

Iaq.
[Page 7]

Nay, pray be quiet now, by Conscience I must have a word or two more with my Vather in Law about Mary's good Parts; for I con­fess I like her mainly, because she's a [...]; I was [...] to a Widow a while ago, but I would not have her; for besides that she was no Maid, she had four great Faults, she had three Children and a lame Leg.

Sanc.

He that marries a Widow and three Children, marries four Thieves. You have [...] it a Scouring, Son in Law.

Teres.

Well then, since you must have another Cup of Prate, I'll leave ye, and get me gone to Mary; the Girl must have some Colberteen Lace set upon her Wedding Smock: Bless me! what a do has there been about that Smock? Mother, she cries, are the Gussets big enough here? Is it sloped enough at top, and wide enough at bottom. I've had above a hundred Questions about that Smock: I warrant that Smock has been bleaching in her head above this two Months.

Ex. Ter.
Iaq.

So, now she's gone, Vather, let's dicourse a little more; for I've a huge Inckling to know a few more of Mary's good qualities. By Conscience I look upon Mary to have a notable Understanding, Vather-in-Law.

Sanc.

Understanding; She can make a Pudding; that's as much Un­derstanding as a Wife has need of.

Iaq.

Now if she be but virtuous —against which she has one wicked sign, your Nose, Vather-in-Law, for, to quip you with a Proverb too, one may know by your Nose what Mutton you love— I say, if she be but virtuous, and has but an eye to her honour as Gentlefolks call it, then all's right.

Sanc.

Virtuous! Ay, I warrant her she's as virtuous as the Skin between her Brows; but you must not give your self so much to Jealousie nor Doubt, Son-in-Law: He that's afraid of every Grass, must not piss in a Meadow; if you fear, why will you go to't, why will you marry?

Iaq.

Why, by Conscience I don't know; I go to't as other folks do, I think, for ready Pudding: Besides, Mary has such a way with her, such a jigging crumptious whim with her Backside, that she's as full of Temptation as an Egg is full of Meat, she has a pure stroke with her, fackins— Then, to say the truth, Mary's very well forehanded too.

Sanc.

Forehanded— oons this Oaf makes a Mare of my Daughter.

Iaq.

We shall do hugely together; I'll set her to weeding in the Wheat the next day after we are married; she has curious spud Fingers to grub up the Charvil.

Sanc.

Fingers! I think she has, and the nails of them are an Inch long for the purpose; she has not cut them this Twelvemonth, to my knowledge.

Iaq.

Then by Conscience she must help the Plough too a little now and then: You wont be angry if I documentize her, and make her a good Huswife, Vather-in Law.

Sa [...]c.
[Page 8]

Angrly— [...]o not [...] prithee [...]o [...]e her in wi [...]h thy [...]elf, Tib, and Crookhorn, and the rest of the O [...]en, if thou wilt▪ An [...] Wife lets the Pig burn by the [...]ires when thou hast her, Boy, e'en draw together a gods-name.

Iaq.

By Conscience, and so we shall, for my mind gives me we shall do mighty well together; for 'tis odd to think how it came about, bu [...] ever since I saw Mary's Bubbies, as she was sitting withou [...] her Wastcoat at our Sheering, I have had a main Good will to her; by Cons [...]ience I have thought of those Bubbies I warrant above a hundred times; and things have grown up to a head, and put forward mightily since that time. Can Mary spin, Vather-in-Law?

Sanc.

Spin! Oons, like a Spider, boy: Her Mother before her was as good at it as ever put Spindle between her legs.

Iaq.

Gadsdiggers—come away then; for I'll go presently, and get ready my Wedding-Tackle—and to morrow go to Church and say the words—and then at night, Vather-in-law—at night—oh Lord, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Exit Iaques.
Sanc.

Ha, ha, ha, ay, at night; oh, poor Man—ha, ha, and yet she'll hold ye tack, if I don't mistake her, for all y'are so crank; and so take this Proverb with you by way of Advice.

If you an old Flea-bitten ride, you need not fear the Dirt;
But when you back a young Colt; See your Saddle be well girt?
Exeunt.
The End of the First Act.

ACT II.

A poor Cottage discovers Teresa and Mary sitting on Stools busie about making a Smock.
Teres.

HEre Mary, prithee thread my Needle, good girl, while [...]t I turn down this Selvidge here.

Ma [...].

Ay, come, let's see't.

rises from the Stool

And so, Mother▪ you say you had a main deal of Prate about me with Vather and my Man that is to be — hoh, hah, hoh, hah — What a dickins, I think I can't do't here.—I'm blind, I think, with living so long a Maid, hoh, hoh. D'ye think I shall thread it better to morrow, Mother? Hoh, hoh, hoh.

Teres.

Ay, ye Jade, if my Husband's Proverb be true, that says Sweet Marjoram, and Marriage is good for the eye-sight.

Mar.

Hoh, hoh, hoh—there, now 'tis done

Gives Ter. the Needle, and sits down again.

purely. Well, and pray Mother let's hear a little; Icod 'twas rare stuff you talk'd, I warrant, if one had been by to hear it; for my Vather wont spare none of the broad Words when his hand is in, he'll not spice the matter, not he, Icod—And my Man, whar said he, I wonder?

Teres

Who, Iaquey, ha, ha, ha—why, I thought he would have bewater'd himself for joy when I told him I was sure thou wert a Maid; he swore a great Oath he lov'd a Maidenhead better than Buttermilk, or a Sunday-Dumpling at the Parson's.

Sewing as she speaks.
Mar.

Hoh, hoh, hoh, Did he [...]aith— Well, and good Mother, what said Vather then?—hoh, hoh—Hold, but stay a little—Icod you'l make it too narrow at bottom here; I shan't have half room enough, if you pinch it so in this place; —odslidikins, if it b'ant wide enough here, Mother, you spoil all.

Teres.

I think the Girl is betwattled—why,

Stands up, and shews the Smock.

prithee do but see now—where's the pinching? odsdiggers 'tis wider than mine was, by a Foot and half.

Mar.

Well, let me see now, I can tell to a Ba [...]ly corn i [...] I measure; look here, from my left Thumb to my Nose is just

measures the Smock.

a Yard—Humph, Icod, I think 'tis pretty well—ay, ay, 'tis well enough—So. And now Mother pray go on: What said Vather then—ha?

Teres.
[Page]

Phoo, Pox take him, he stood choaking himself with laughing at his own Proverbs, but ne' [...]r a one of 'em on our side; I had like to have pull'd him by the ears three times, as I'm a Christian.

Mar.

Well, I think the Devil's in my Vather for that; he makes no more of a Woman, Icod, than of a wisp of Hay, he loves nobody but Dapple; on my Conscience and Soul he's civiller to that Ass, than to you, Mother.

Teres.

Ah! ' [...]is e'en too true, Mary; this plaguy Knight Errantry, a murrain take it, crams his head so, that the Man is, as I'm a Christian, I know not how besotted—so that he never thinks of Family matters, not he—I've had no Comfort from him this half year, Lord help me.

Mar.

Icod that's very hard—There, come, now let's set on the Lace.

Teres

And a married Woman's but a solitary thing without Com­fort, Mary; if I had married Diego of our Town, as I might have done if I had not been a Fool, for he cast many a loving Sheeps eye at me, I had had Comforting enough, I had had my Belly full of Comfort then as I'm a Christen.

Mar.

If my Husband don't comfort me when I've occasion. I'll make him a C [...]ckold faith—I'd do my self Reason, Icod. Hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh.

Teres.

Ay Mary, in another Country now that might be; but in Spain here, the more's the Pity, a Woman can't do herself Rea­son if she would; if a Woman does her self Reason here, her Hus­band confines her prese [...]tly— she's under Lock and Key the next minute.

Mar.

O Lord! I understand ye; and that's a plaguy thing Icod.

Teres.

Ah! well fare little England, odslidikins, they say there a Far­mer's Wife, or such a one as I now, may have leave of her Husband to be sociable if she can make any advantage on't; she has no Confine­ment upon her; all things are open there; they lock up nothing there, but the Cupboard.

Mar.

Why, that's a pure place then, I'll swear: but hold ye, what d'ye think, Mother, shall I put any Lace at bottom or no? you know I'm to be a great Lady Before I die: And now we are talking of Eng­land, I've heard there was one at London, near the Court I think they call it, that wore Lace thus long, and always took care to have it se [...]n coming down Stairs, or going out of a Coach; and that the Fool her Husband—

Ter [...]s.

Knew nothing of the matter, Moll, he never came so near my Lady, he knew nothing of the Lace. I'm sure.

Mar.

No, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh, Icod that's good, he know nothing on't! why who should then?

Teres.
[Page 11]

Who, fool! why, some young Blade with long powder'd cu [...]l'd hair, and a Patch on's Nose, that watch'd her motions— Why, Hus­bands have the least to do with their Wives there, Fool, o [...] any folk, either to lye with, or to lead 'em there, is unfashionable and unman­nerly.

Mar.

Hoh, hoh, hoh—Well Icod, then that's a crumptious place I say agen—and then Mother, there's a sort of Ca [...]tle they call Ci­tizens, hoh, hoh, hoh; Icod, they say they don't get their own Chil­dren neither.

Teres.

Why no, if they'll drive a subtle Trade, no more they must not, ye silly Ja [...]e; if they intend to be rich and be Aldermen, the Courtier must Cuckold the Citizen in course, then in course he gets into Debt, and then the Citizen gets his Estate [...]or Satisfac [...]ion in course.

Mar.

Hoy day! why, this is whirly curly murly, round about our Cole-fire, hoh, hoh, hoh, hoh — Icod, [...]his is driving a subtle Tra [...]e indeed.

Iaques
within whistles,

Holloa, Mother-in-Law, and my Flesh that must be, where are ye?

Teres

Odslidikins—'tis Iaquey, he's come to call ye to Church, I'll be hang'd else; I'll go and make an end of my Work withi [...], and get things ready; in the mean time, be sure to coy it, and stand off, and niggle him purely, dost' hear, Mary?

Exit Teres [...].
Mar.

Ah! Icod, I'll niggle him so he was ne'er so niggled since his Mother▪ bound his head, hoh, hoh, hoh — Go, go, I warrant ye, Mother, let me alone with him.

Enter Jaques.
Iaqu.

Why, how now, Flesh of mine, what no farther yet? Good Lord! now how comes this—Why, th [...] what d'ye call't,

scratching.

the Can—the Can—the Canondrical Hour will be past by Con­science: come, good now, d'on thy Jacket lightly, good [...]lesh o [...] mine, d'on thy Clothes.

Mar.

I can't d'on my Clothes

Mary turns away and seems coy.
Iaq.

Gadsdiggers, Master Camacho and his Bride, and the Man in in the black, tarry for us; good now, Mary, go dizzen, and come a­way and be married lightly; good now do, Mary.

Mar.

Pish, I can't abide to be married — I'm alter'd.

Iaqu.

Gadsdigge [...]s, that's a good one by Conscience; not abide to be married▪ Was there ever one of thy Age that could not abide to be married—Pshaw, you must not say so, Mary; come buss, come buss.

Mar.
[Page 12]

Pish, I can't buss.

Iaqu.

Pshaw, you can buss, and you must buss; 'sbud, she makes me as hot as a Tost— What a devil ails her tro? Come, good ho­ney Flesh o' mine, buse now.

Mar.

I can't buss, I won't buss.

Iaqu.

Not buss!

Mar.

No.

Iaqu.

Not Buss me at all!

Mar.

No, no, no, no.

Iaqu.

Not at all?

sings out of tune.
Mar.

No, no, no, no.

Iaqu.

Nor go to be married?

Mar.

No.

Iaqu.

Gadsdiggers, nor lye with me to night?

Mar.

Oo — I'm asham'd.

Iaqu.

Ah, dear sweet honey Mary, don't say No—By Conscience I shall hang my self if th'art in earnest: Look here, I'll give thee this pure white Turnip, if thou wilt but buss and

pulls out a great Turnip

say I — Odsdiggers, you must go.

Mar.

Nay, pish, I won't go.

Iaq.

You shall go.

Mar.

Nay, fye—be quiet; O Lord, I can't go.

Iaqu.

Master Camacho will laugh me to death; I would not but be married to day for a hundred Pound.

Mar

Nor I neither, Icod, for all my fooling.

asid [...].
Iaqu.

Therefore, Gadsdiggers, come along, for I must buss, and I will buss: I must marry, and I will marry, and there's the Resolution of—

pulls her out.
Mar.

Well, I will, I will, I will, I will—What a-dikins ai [...]s the Man? Icod, you won't be so sharp set seven years hence.

Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Don Quixote, Carrasco, and Sancho.
Don Quix.

SIR Batchelor, I have with care consider'd on each particular of your discourse; nor shall this Sword ever keep back its Aid, when Beauty, Wit, or injur'd Love's in danger— I am my self a Lover, learned Batchellor, and there [...]ore doubly will assist Basilius.

Sancho starts and stares at him

St [...]cho shall be my Second; he shall fight too, if there should be oc­casion.

Car [...]s.

My Friend and I are doubly yours, heroick Sir.

Sanc.
[Page 13]

I fight! with whom must I [...]ight, I wonder? Good Sir, dont let your head run so much upon this Fighting Work: We are going to a Wedding now; and I see no Monsters that I should be engaged a Second to attack there, unless it be an Ox that's roasting yonder; — And I [...]ll attack that presently, with all my heart, if you please.

Don Quix.

An Ox—A Calf—Ha, ha, ha, ha—Sancho's a Droll, Sir Batchelor, you'll excuse him—But at a dire Adventure, brave as Hercules.

Sanch.

A Plague of your Commendations—

aside.

—'sbud, I never knew him praise my Fighting, but some damnable Drubbing or other happen'd presently after.

Don Quix.

But ar [...] you sure the Virgin has her Cue? Is she resolv'd? Will she assist your Friend?

To Carrasco.
Carras.

Most vigorously; 'tis the morose Compul [...]ion of an Unckle has brought the thing so far—She hates Camacho.

Don Q.

No more then to be said▪ Sir▪ if your Plot fails, this Arm shall do her Justice.

Carras.

Triumphant Voice▪ How I adore its Author! Now, by Apollo and the sacred Nine, that dip in Helicon to write of Glory, you seem [...], great Sir, an Emperour already▪

Sanc.

Ah! the Emperour of [...] take thee—art thou put­ting him in mind of being an [...] again? Gadzooks, I, be­gin to find this tongue-padding Fellow is a vary Rogue: They [...]ay he's a Scholard, and can tell by his Art how many pound of Candles are set up in the Sky from one years end to t'other; and that he can expound Dreams—I was such a Fool to try him once, but nothing came on't but Folly that I know; see, they are complimenting still: —Ah! go thy ways for a Dream-teller.

Caras.

Who talks of Dreams there— Then, Sir, i [...] that Title sound too weak for your high [...]elish, to be Emperor of Consta [...]tinople—is most grand.

Don Q.

Ye've hit it, Sir; that place I must renown, since one of our best Knights Patrons of Chivalry, the Star of Arms, great Pal­marin d'Oliva, [...]eign'd there long since.

Sanc.

They have made a [...]ick Voyage on't; they are got as far as Constantinople in two Minutes—This plaguy Conjurer, I lay my life▪ is interpreting a Dream for [...]y mad Master too.

Don Q.

What dost thou m [...]tter about Dreams, Sancho?

Caras.

Oh, Sir, his head runs strangely on the Topick; I late was his Interpreter. Sancho dreamt he was at Sea, very much toss'd in a Ship, but amongst the rest, had three great Tosses, that shook him so, he wak'd — I told him the first signified Preferment—which so happened; for in two days after, he was toss'd—into his Go­vernment.

Sanc.
[Page 14]

And in two days after that, I was toss'd out agen—that was the second — But now, where was the third, good Mr. Con­jurer? How was I toss'd the third time?

Carras.

In that, indeed Sancho, the Stars are cloudy▪

Don Q

Oh Sir, that falls within the Verge of my small Understan­di [...]g. Sancho was, just before that—toss'd in a Blanket; and I sup­pose the Stars meant that the third.

Sanc.

A plague on your suppose — have you found it out— Yes, if that were the third Tossing, I was toss'd with a Vengeanc [...] and you were [...]he Cause, I thank ye —for quarrelling with the Carriers at the [...] — B [...]t come, look not too high, lest a Chip fall in your Eye▪ and don't scald your lips in another Man's Por­ridge — I shall take Warning one day, and [...]o perhaps scape a fourth Tossing, I shall, Gadzooks.

Carras.

But tha [...] I know Sancho's a Virtuoso, I should imagine these were marks o [...] Choller.

Don Q.

He is angry — Which passion as others do express by Oaths and Curses, he always does by Proverbs—But hark, I hear the Marriage Instruments are sounding, and the procession coming.

A noise of Pipes and Rural Instruments are heard within.

I'll stand by; and, when you [...] Sign —

Carras.

Great Sir, I'll soon inform you— how to get your head broke.

aside.
Enter, first, Musick playing; then Camacho led like a Bridegroom between two Maids; after him, Quiteria like a Bride, led be­tween two Men: After them, Shepherds, Shepherdesses, Dancers and Si [...]gers, Men and Women. They plac [...] Quitteria in a Bower on a Bank of Flowers.
Cam [...]c.

Come Neighbours, merry be your hearts all: And now, let's see ye sing your Songs, and foot it [...]ightly for the Honour of Ca­macho and Qui [...]teria I have got her a [...] [...]as [...], d'ye mind me▪ What, must every poor Fellow [...]hink to ou [...] [...] or me—A Sneak, a Mortgaging Rat; No, I'd have bought his head off, boys, but I'd have had her—What, I have Money enough, d'ye mind me.

1 Shep.

Ay, ay, Cousin, I am glad she's so well bestow'd▪

2 Shep.

I wo [...]der what she could see in t'other, to like him; he could joynture her in nothing but Fidling and Poetry: and her good Unkle left her too well to give it a way all to nothing.

1 Shep.
[Page 15]

Besides, he has been always bred in th' Town: I'll war­rant him as rotten as a Medlar—as [...] too as a Lath; and his Legs stand as if they were set on the wrong end upwards— Now yours▪ Cousin, have some Substance.

2 Shep.

Ay, ay, they'll carry him out o'th dirt; those Legs are sit for business now—Ah, the Bride shew'd her Understanding in her Choice, I'll say't

Camac.

Oh, thank ye, thank ye, this is kind [...]aith— Come, where are these lazy Rogues—Is Dinner ready? Quickly, quickly there— let me be serv'd, ye Knaves—What, I have Money e­nough, d'ye mind me— Let me have two Sir-Loins in one Dish, a dozen of Capons in another▪ for my first Course at my own Table. Then let the Ducks swim in a River of Sawce, and the Pidgeons be stu [...]t with Parsley till they crack agen: Quick, quick, I say; and y'are all welcome, Boys—What, I have Money enough, d'ye mind me?

Omnes,

A Camacho— a Camacho, hey.

Sancho leaps for Ioy.
Sanc.

Two Sir-lyons! humph— and a dozen of Capons! — Royal Fare, Gadzooks: — And I've a Stomach as sharp as Heart can wish;— I shall claw those Capo [...]s off.— Give your Wor­ship Joy.

Camac.

Oh, honest Sancho, welcome: What! Thou art hungry, I warrant; hoh, hoh, hoh. Well, thou sha [...] suck at the Horn of Plen­ty presently, thou shalt. Eat, Rogue, till thy Guts can hold no more. Where's thy Lean-jaw'd Master?

Sanc.

Mum, mum, Sir; within Ear shot.

Camac.

What, he's too proud to dine with us▪ I warrant, without the Ceremonies of the Great Mogul to usher him in, tho' he be half starv'd.— Hoh, hoh, hoh; How I laugh at these poor Scoun­drels!

Don Q.

Sancho.

Sanc.

I come, Sir.— Pray Sir,

To Camatho

don't turn your Grin that way▪ for if he sees it, Lord have mercy upon your two Sir-loins, and your Capons; your Spits will be poking in our own Bellies▪ and the Blessings of your Porridge-pots be showr'd in Carves on our own Pates.

Don. Q.

Sancho, I would not have thee, for I [...]ind thee prone, to hold too great a Correspondence with these People, because I know not yet whether they are Friends or Enemies.— And one thing more I tell thee as a Secret; Give me thy Ear— Here's an Adventure com­ing— we shall have Action suddenly.

Sanc.

Action! What,— Dinner you mean, Sir, I suppose. Why, Troth, Eating is a very pretty Action, I must needs say; and I am prepar'd, Sir; you need not put me in mind.

Don Q.
[Page]

Nor do I, Sancho; and therefore thus I charge thee, by the unquestion'd Homage that tho [...] owest me, not to dine to day.

Sanc.

Not dine, Sir!

Don Q.

No, unless on Thoughts of Honour, as I do; Dinner will strangely dull thy Animal Spirits, which I shall presently have occasion for.— Once more thy Ear; mark me attentively: Within this Hour one more and thou and I must fight with all this Company.

Sanc.

The Devil we must! Oh — that ever I was born.

Don Qu.

Conquer 'em—and do an Act Ages to come shall story.

Sanc.

Canquer 'em—'Oons, what d'ye mean, Sir? They are tame enough, I think; here's no Strife amongst 'em, that I see; and to provoke 'em to fight— not I, faith, Sir. He goes too soon to that Market where nothing's to be bought but Blows.

Don Q.

Wilt thou not [...]ight then?

Sanc.

Not a Stroke, Gadzooks: Besides, to forbid me eating too, when my Belly has rung all [...]in above this two ho [...]rs—Sir, I'm your Vassal; but to think I wont Dine at my Daughter's Wedding, i [...] such a Tyranical Whim, that I must rebel, if you were fo [...]ty Empe­rours.

Don Q.

Scoundrel—Thou shalt not have it in [...]hy power to eat— So: No more Words for this time.— I see the Sports begin.

Here follows an Entertainment of Musick and Dancing; which ended Camacho rises at the sound of some Shrieks and Cries without.
SONG. Sung by one representing IOY.
VErtumnus, Flora, you that bless the Fields.
Where warbling Philomel in Safety builds;
And to the Nymphs and Swains
That revel on these Plains
Dispose the Ioys that Heav'n and Nature yeilds:
Call Hymen, call him from his merry home;
Bid him prepare his Torch, and come;
To sing and drink full Bowls; Call loud, I say:
'Tis Beauty's Feast, Quitteria's Wedding-day.
[Page 17]
The Second SONG, By one Representing Hymen or Marriage.
HEre is Hymen, here am I,
Some Mens grief, and some Me [...]s joy:
Here's for better and worse,
Many Bless and many Curse.
2.
Tender Virgins soft and young,
They that to be Mothers long,
By my Aid Loves Raptures try,
Save their blushes and enjoy.
3.
But none must Loves Banquet tas [...]e,
Tho [...] 'tis dress'd, till I say Grace;
Till I Lice [...]se so to do,
Maids that wish, must not fa [...] too.
4.
The vast Universe I sway,
Humane Kind my Laws obey:
By a Power that equals Fates,
I give Honours and Estates.
5.
Thousands me a Pillory call,
Mouse-trap [...] Stocks, the Devil and all:
For who tries how I can bind,
Is for all his Life confin'd.
6.
But if any honest Swain,
Ask if I am Ioy or Pain,
I am both, the truth to tell,
Sometimes Heaven sometimes Hell.
[Page 18]
The Third Song, By one Representing Discord.
CEase Hymen cease, thy Brow let Discord awe,
Thou Yoke, where Fools with toyle and trouble draw;
I am sworn Foe to-all thy Law does bind;
Marriage from first Creation was design'd
A Curse, Intail'd on wretched Human Kind.
'Tis noble Discord, generous Strife,
That gives the truest taste of Life;
Marriage first made Man fall,
Had I been in the Garden plac'd,
The Woman ne're had made him taste;
'Twas foolish Loving damn'd us all,
Had I been in, &c.
Joy.
Happy Mortals you from me,
Shall have all felicity.
Hymen.
I'le b [...]tow, to raise your Ioyes,
Charming Girles and Lovely Boys.
Discord.
And to quell each fond Delight,
I will make y [...]u scratch and Bite.
Chorus of all.
Let Mortals then know,
Let 'em know, let 'em know, let 'em know, let 'em know,
Let us by reflection shew,
What attends the Marriage Vow,
And what Ioys and Troubles grow;
Let Mortals then know,
Let 'em know, let 'em know, let 'em know, let 'em know.
Here follows a Dance of six or eight Men and Women, representing the Hap­piness and Unhappiness of Marriage.
First Man within.

A Surgeon, a Surgeon, help, help for Heavens sake.

Second Man within.

He faints, he faints, keep the Spirit to his Nose, Oh [...]elp, help —

Enter Carrasco as frighted.
Carasc.

Oh unfortunate Accident, Oh dreadful Mischance, make room there; Where's the Bridegroom, where's the Cruel Bride?

Cam.

What are ye mad, d'ee mind me; here we are, what's the matter? How now, what business have you here Friend?

Carasc.

Basilius, my dear Friend Basilius, Oh, if you have any pity, let him come in and spea [...] to the Bride.

Cam.
[Page 19]

Basilius—shud, what my Rival— no, no, such matter, he comes not here, d'ye mind me.

Carasc.

Oh poor Basilius, he's past being your Rival now Sir, for no sooner had the Fryer told him, that he was to Marry Quitteria this morning, but in a desperate Frenzy, with a sharp Tuck he run himself through the Body, and there he is without, weltering in his Blood, nor will be Confess'd do what they can, till he speak with the Bride, and she consents to hear his Dying Words.

Cam.

What— has he run himself through the Body, d'ye say —

Carasc.

Oh! ay Sir, ay — he has kill'd himself, he has kill'd himself, he can't live half an hour.

Cam.

Nay, look ye, d'ye mind me, if he has kill'd himself, I care not much if I do let him come in and tell his Tale— What says Quitty— let the hot-headed Fool come in, he can't Prate long, if he has run him­self through the Body.

Quit.

Oh, Sir, believe not I will hinder him, the Man that sacrific'd his Life for me; if in my Bosom lives a generous thought, must cer­tainly have there a large possession.

Cam.

We'll bring him then,—and d'ye mind me, tell the Cook we'll send him word when the simple Fellow's dead, and then we'll go to Dinner.

Enter Basilius carried between two a Sword stuck through his Body, which appears all Bloody — with him a Fryer.
First Shep▪

Bless us, what a Wound's there, the Sword comes above five inches out at his Back.

Second Shep.

Ah, he has taken occasion for the Sun to shine through him Neighbour.

Basil.

Oh!

to Quitteria

thou to whose fair but relentless Eyes, I sacrific'd my Youths entirest Duty, behold the latest Tribute Love can offer, my Life paid to appease the cruel fates; Who would not grant that I should live with her, for whom I only thought Life worth en­joying.

Quit.

'Twas the effect of both our rigid Fortunes — Alass! I was not in my own dispose, my Heart ne're had the power to make a­mends for your true Love since 'twas confin'd by Friends.

Cam.

The short and the long on't is, Friends did it, d'ye mind me, I had Interest with her Uncle, and you had none; What! [...]he thing is plain enough, you lost her, because you were poor; and I had her, be­cause I was rich— What! I had Money enough, d'ye mind me.

Basil.

Live happy Sir, and long, as you can enjoy her, I only beg o [...] you for my Souls sake, to grant me one request be [...]ore I dye.

Cam.

Request; Well, what is't, let's hear, let's hear.

Basil.
[Page 20]

That whilst I live, which is but till this Weapon be drawn out out of my Body— for then 'tis certain my very Soul flowes with it— that you'd resign Quitteria to me, and to confirm it subscribe here this Paper.

Cam.

How! subscribe, I don't understand that, d'ye mind me.

Basil.

Alass, Sir, 'tis but for a wretched minute.

Fryer.

Come, good Sir, mind your better part, your Soul, leave these transitory thoughts, and prepare for your Confession.

Basil.

'Tis for my Souls sake, Reverend Sir, I beg this, for I, alass, have rashly made an Oath, that till she's mine, I ne're would be Con­fess'd,— and now am in a State of Desparation; Madam, you may have Charity, though no Love — Do you persuade him, alass, you know a Soul's a pretious thing.

Q [...]it.

I am given all to him, but yet, alass Sir, whether my Interest be so much, as can assure the Grant of any Suit, I dare not yet af­fi [...]m—

Don Quixote beckons Sancho.
Don Q.

Let 'em alone Sancho, stand Foot to Foot by me.

S [...]ncho.

What can be the meaning of all this, sure this plaguy Devil, my Master, has not perswaded this Man to kill himself, only to h [...]e [...] me of my Dinner.

F [...]y [...]r

Your Charity should exert it self on this Occasion, troth Sir, [...] the Lady says— A Soul's a pretious thing.

Cam▪

Why, I should be well enou [...] inclin'd, d'ye mind me, to take pi [...]ty of his Soul, if it would be civil, and go from his Body in good time, and not hinder us too long from Dinner; but to be sure of that now.

Carasc.

That, Sir,— alass, it will be gone next minute, draw out the Sword, you draw out his Soul too; Besides, Sir, you'l be haunted fearfully if he should die without shrift in this desperate Condition— his Ghost will be glaring ye in the Face every minute.

Cam.

His Ghost!

Carasc.

Ay, Sir, his Ghost in a Bloody Shrowd, with a pale Face and gogling Eyes—'twill come every day to Dinner t'ye; and to have a Ghost you know always dipping in one's Dish, Sir.

Cam.

Humph, dipping in my Dish!

Carasc.

Ay, Sir, with his cold scraggy Knuckles.

Cam.

Why, troth, d'ye mind me Friend, I should not much like that, I confess— a Ghost is but an odd Companion at Meals.

Basil.

The ebbing Pulse about my Heart grows weaker, and little Spirits skim before my Eyes, all gay and fine in party-coloured dresses, to catch my fleeting Soul — therefore consent this Instant, or for ever.

Quit.

You have, Sir, mine, and with it all my Heart, and were my Hand my own I'de give that too.

Basil.

Fiddlers, Physicians, Songs, and Glisterpipes.

Staring as distracted.
Carasc.
[Page 21]

He begins to talk idly, therefore if you love your quiet, Sir, subscribe quickly, 'tis but for a minute you know— besides think on the Ghost, Sir.

Gives the Paper.
Cam.

Dipping his scraggy Knuckles in my Dish— my Hair stands an end at the thoughts on't— There, Sir

Writes

there's my Hand, and for the little time he lives I do resign her to him, but not a jot longer, dye mind me.

Carasc.

No, no, Sir, longer, we desire no longer — there's Sir, there's Balsom for your Wound,

to Camacho

and now, Sir, Bridegroom, welcome to our Comedy; stand up Friend—

Basilius starts up and draws out the Sword
Basil.
When stately Rosius on the Roman Stage
Was like some valiant General to dye
The Steel, not through himself he thrust in Rage,
But slily through a Wooden Trunk close by
* Throws away the Trunk.
The Purple stains, which were a Sheeps warm Blood,
Upon his snowy Linnen sprinkled were:
But, Oh! the Fools that nothing understood,
How they did wonder, Oh! how they did stare!

Ha, ha, ha, a Trick, a Trick, a Trick— Oh, my Dear

to Quit.

sweet pretty Actress, this was a Scene indeed— Noble Sir, we have the Licence here to go about our b [...]ess [...]— We thank you for this pre­paration — but we have another Entertainment elsewhere, and so sweet. Sir, adieu.

Takes Quitteria.
Quitter.

Oh cruel Man, am I turned off at this rate, I shall cry my Eyes out, Ha, ha, ha —

Carasc.

Ha, ha, ha, you may get another Wife, Sir, you have Money enough, d'ye mind me.

Cam.

Odsbodikins, am I fob'd off thus,—it shan't do, Sir, I'le have her again with a Vengeance, [...]all on, Friends, I'm abus'd; I'le give a thousand Duckets for her again, fall on Boys,

Carasc.

Now,

to Don Quix.

Sir, this is your time, now shew these Rascals your Heroick Vertue.

Don Q.

Ten Millions shall not fetch her back—

Draw Sancho.

Rascals go on and fight, or—

here Don Q. Car. and San beat 'em off

and return; So, Sir, now she's your own in peace.

Basil.

Brave, Brave Don Quixote, what Honour shall I pay him.

Carasc.

We'l have a Statue for him and for Sancho, we'l instantly to his Daughter's Wedding, and caress him there.

Sancho.

Ay, when you have taken away my Stomach with drubbing, you'l give me a Dinner.

B [...]sil.

And now, dear Angel, let's to our own Happiness—

Thus, let all Lovers that by Friends are crost,
Thus let 'em be rewarded for't at last
The End of the Second Act.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter Teresa, Mary, and Jaques, Mary in her Wedding Cloaths s [...]rutting.
Iaques.

WHy, here has been mad doings in the Meadow yonder, if all be true as Vather in Law has told us, Master Ba­silius has whipt away the Bride, it seems, and by Conscience they have made a meer Fool of my Master Camacho.

Teres.

Ay, and there's a woundy many Stories about it already; some say the Weapon came out above a handful at's Back, and some say there was above eight or nine inches seen out at's Belly, and every body has a several Tale; but let it be how it will, Mary, since Master Basilius has offered thee thy Wedding Dinner, as well as 'tother, he's as proper a Man as 'tother, and deserves a good Wife as well as 'tother, every whit, hah!

Mary▪

Ay, ay, Mother, so I can but be Married, and you can but Dine, we care not which way it comes,

aside

not we Icod; but stay, Codslidikins I had forgot, I must not be so Rompish before Iaques, I'le set my Mouth in Prim.

He looks on her, she Prims.
Iacques.

Well, Flesh of mine, Rumpsy, Plumpsy, how is't? hah! do's Heart thump yet, the hour's a coming Chuffy Chaps —'tis a coming Long Nose Pinckaninny, are your Twincklers twinckling ifaith— well the Domine will have said Grace presently— and then I'le fall to [...] with a Tantararara, I've a swinging Stomach by Conscience.

Mary.

O Lord, what d'ye mean tro? pray Man don't talk so.

Setting her Face.
Iaques.

Ah—ye Bubbys you, I must talk so, ye little tempting Rogue, I will talk so; well, go thy ways, thou puts down all Spain for Bubbys, that's certain— Hark, Mother in Law,

she goes back Coyly

never be­lieve me more. if Mary the Buxome's Bubby's there be not the making of us when I have made her Milch once, she will be sent for to Suckle all the great Do [...]s Children about Court, she'l yield a Pailful a day by Con­science.

Mary.

Pish — fye upon't, fecks now I can't abide such talk, can't you let Bubbys alone I wonder.

Teres.

Ah, splice ye for a Cunning Carrion—the Jade simpers as if Butter would not melt in her mouth, but Cheese of three half pence a po [...]nd won't choak her, as the old saying is.

Man within.

Come, where's the Bride and Bridegroom,

Bagpipes within Sounds

here— Holloa, Holloa.

Iaques.

Hark now, by Conscience our Friends are come to fetch us to Church, come Molly, come away Flesh of mine, p [...]ithee come.

Mary.
[Page 23]

Fugh, I can't tell how to come, I'me so asham'd.

He pulls her out.
Teres.

Ah — cunning Quean—Ha, ha, ha, ha—

Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Basilius, Carasco, Quitteria, and Altisidora.
Basil.

THus far kind Fortune has improved our Joy, and when the Law has perfected the Work, then I shall call this Treasure of my Soul, my own securely,

Embracing Quit.

Oh, my best Brother, how am I bound to thee too? how shall I pay thee for thy friendl [...] service.

Carasc.

The Pay of Friendly service is the doing it, and I am glad at Heart it has succeeded; I know the Mad Knights assistance was Authen­tick, and therefore blew him up with Praise and Flattery, which made him, when the brunt of the Business came, to lay about him so; Where have you left him, Madam?

Quit.

I'th Garden, dedicating his Fond Thoughts to his Romantick Mistress Dulcinea; To divert him from whom, and to promote our Mirth, I have laid a Plot; That Al [...]y here, my Neece, shall feign he [...] self passionately in love with him, meet him at every turn, and sigh and languish as if she were despairing.

Basil.

'Twill make us excellent Sport— but she must be sure then to cry up Knight Errantry— sing Amorous Dittys often, and humour him in his Romantick Vein.

Alitsid.

Humour him, 'dslife I have got Parismus and Parismenos almost by heart, and am as familiar with Don Belianis of Greece, as if I had been his Squire; and then for singing, I have got the most deplorable Mat­ters, the most Melancholly miserable Madigrals, that being dismally howl'd about twelve at night, would make all the Cats of the Parish come into the Consort.

Car [...]sc.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, the Witty Rogue will mimick it better than any Actress in Spain, and the Knight will be puzzled Damnably; but a Pox on't, we want him all this while— Oh, here he comes and Sancho.

Enter Don Quixote and Sancho.
Basil▪

The beauty of the Morning bless ye, Sir, — and may the Rays of the Meridian Sun shine gently on the Head of the most [...]am'd of all Knights Errant in the Universe.

Don Q.

Oh good Basilius, generous young Man,— you do me too much Honour,— good faith 'tis far beyond my mean deservings.

Quit.

No flattery can reach Don Quixote's Head, he looks above it still.

Carasc.
[Page 24]

As far as high Olympus does a Molehill.

Quit.

Or Heaven the lowest Earth.

Don Q.

Most Beauteous Lady, happy I am above all other Knights, to have such Praises from so sweet a Mouth; and my most learned Sir, I thank you for your Goodness.

To Caras.
Basilius.

Nor must my good Friend Sancho lose his share in our best Compliments—whose Service has been notable, —well my trusty Squire—to an Immortal Knight; Is Mary sped yet, are the happy Couple coming, you see we wait for 'em.

Sanc.

Yes, yes, Sir, the jobb is over by this time, the two Fools are hobling hither as fast as they can: I should have had a new Jerkin on by right, my Masters Worship gave me an old Mantle to make me one I thank him, but I have laid it up till another time, I love to be saving.

Sancho speaks as fluster'd.
Don Quixote.

I gave thee that as a Reward for th' Bruises thou gottest in the late Skirmish; for though thy Mettle, like a resty Jade, ran back at first, yet with my Spurring thou gott'st Honour af­terwards; and Scars and Br [...]ises that are got with Honour, all merit to be cover'd with a Mantle.

Altis.

Ah sweet Man

* Altisidora looks amorously on Don Quixote.

, how sweetly he talks.

Don Quix.

What says the Nymph unspotted

Looks proudly on her.
Altis.

Ye sweet Face— Ah ye dear Man, you.

Quit.

Fie Altis, fie, did you not promise me to be more moderate. You must excuse her, Sir, the poor Girl cant hide a Passion for you, which you had known before, had not I feard the Charms of the bright Dulcinea—were so rooted in you, you could heed nothing else, —but now, since she has broke the Ice her self,—I can no longer for­bear telling ye, you have bewitch'd my Niece.

Altis.

Ah — those alluring Eyes.

Quit.

Fie Alty

Don Q▪

Prevailing merit, Madam, is not Witchcraft— I cannot help my— influence, 'tis not my fault, you should lock up your Sisters and your Neices.

Al [...]is.

That Heart-seducing Nose.

Garas.

This is almost Distraction, the young Lady is far gone.

Basil.

Ah poor young thing, this has been breaking out a great while.

Altis.

That pretious—

Don Quix.

Prithee.

Altis.

Graceful.

Don Quix.

Nay— look off Maiden.

Altis.
Honey wording Mouth,
And that most charming Phillamote Complexion.
[Page 25]
A SONG sung by Miss Cross, when sh [...] makes Love to Don Quixote.
DAmon Feast your Eyes on me,
Whither simply would you lead 'em:
Can you think another she,
Has more Charms than I to feed 'em▪
He th [...]t leaves a Ro [...]ie Cheek,
Lips Vermillion'd like a Ruby,
Blindly courser fare to seek,
Pox upon him for a Booby.
If a Smile, the Lovers Ioy
Can Delight, I'le doo't Divi [...]ely,
Or d'ye love a Sleepy Eye,
Here is one can Ogle fi [...]ely:
Charms would make another Man
Gaze an Age, I'll shew to win ye;
And when I've shewn all I can;
If you go the Devil's in you.
—Oh Flower of Knights, Don Quixote de la Mancha.
Don Quix.

Oh! Dulcinea del Toboso, guard well the Castle of my Constancy— The foe is strong, the Nimph is wondrou0s Lovely. Oh I hear Musick— now I shall get Breath.

Musick within

The Married Couple's coming —this was lucky.

Altis.

He shuns me— then break Heart, I'll go and cry my Soul out.

Exit Altis
Don Quix.

Very strange this—

Sanc.

Ay, Here comes Mary, the Jade tosses her Head like the fore-Horse of a Team; She has made me almost Drunk with Aqua Vitae this morning— and will be Fox'd her self before night, she's so crank upon the matter.

Musick plays; The [...] Enter Jaques led by two Maids; and then Mary led by two Men; Gines de Passamonte and Lopez disguis'd; Then Teresa follows, and Singers and Dancers.
Caras.

A very jolly Troop; their [...]aces too look merrily.

Quit.

A sign their Hearts are Tun'd: This is their time, a Wedding Day's the Jubilee of Life.

B [...]sil.

Welcome, welcome all, and I wish you Joy my Friend — Your Spouse there is well pleased I see by her looks.

Iaq.
[Page 26]

Ay, I'll make her look nine ways at once before I have done with her, by Conscience.

Caras.

Take heed of Threatning F [...]iend, Mary's a Girl of Courage.

Mary.

Ay, Ay, l [...] him threaten, 'tis all he can do to hurt me, —I'll deal with him well enough I warrant ye; Odslidikins, what de think I can't deal with him: When I was a Maid, and under subjection, I prim'd and simper'd and was mealy-mouth'd as they call it; but now I am a Wife, I gad, I'll talk what I please —and be Master too in my turn, old Rock.

Gives Jaques a thump on the back.
Basil.

—Why well said Mrs. Bride— give her a Buss for that Friend.

Mary.

How now, What, do as you are bid, every Fool does as their bid, Lobcock.

He rumples her to Kiss her, and she gives him a Box on the Ear.
Teres.

Ha, ha, ha, —'tis a plaguy mettled young Quean, but 'tis no wonder; for at her Age I was just so my self. This Jade puts me in mind of a pure P [...]overb, that says, Honest Men marry quickly, but Wise Men not at all.

Sanc.

Nay, Mary, —Gadzooks you'll balk my Son in Law if you f [...]ght upon your Wedding Day; that's a little too soon— your Mother and I did not go to Cuffs in a fortnight after at least, Child.

Caras.

Oh, 'tis nothing, she intended perhaps to entertain him as the famous Spartan Ladies us'd to do at their Marriages, where a good Box on th' Ear given by the Bride to her new Husband, was held a special favour.

Sanc.

'Tis a special favour that she'll entertain him with then, as often as any Spartan of 'em all, I'll say that for her.

Don Q.

A blow may be a sign of over fondness, as Mothers some­times Kissing Bite their Children.

Basil.

Ay, ay, 'twas a Jest, they play the play together; I warrant they'r as fond of one another as two Kittlins.

Iaq.

Nay I meant no harm not I, —it came a little soure though upon my le [...]t Ear, by Conscience— but come, we wont fall out for all that Mary.

Mary.

Fugh, I care not for falling out nor falling in— I cod I wont be Buss'd but when I please—What de think I'm a Fool, to be slopt and slopt every time you are bid do't, I cod I wont be slopt but when I've a mind to't my self; nay, look as you will —I wont be mealy mouth'd not I, I'me Married now, mun.

Basil.

Faith Mrs. Bride, and nothing but reason▪ and now to end the difference in Mirth—lets have some Musick, the great Don Quixot's Melancholly: Come, let the Wedding sports go forward, and bid the Servants get Dinner ready in the Lodge next to the Grove. I've heard the Bride Dances and Sings her s [...]lf too my Dear

To Quit.

and I hope will pleasure us too, add to the Entertainment upon her Wedding Day.

Quit.
[Page 27]

I hope she'll be so kind, and to encourage her, there's something towards House-keeping.

Gives her a Purse.
Mary.

O Lord—'tis Gold—Fackins—Thank your noble Ladyship.

Iaq.

Give your Honour many Thanks.

Mary.

Hoy, What do you thank her for— Look here Presto, you are like to see no more on't,

Puts up the Purse, and makes Mouths at him.
Basil.

Nay here's another for the Bridegroom too▪ we must not be kind by halves.

Gives an [...]ther Purse to Jaques.
Iaq.

Heaven bless ye, by Conscience, you are a noble Gentlemen. Now Flesh of mine.

Shakes the Purse, and she snatches i [...] away.
Mary.

What now — Why now, 'tis where it should be— nay stand away, I cod I'le keep it—I'le make it in my bargain, I'le keep all the Money.

San.

So— the Jade begins already—she'll shew him rare Pranks ere long.

Iaq.

Odsbodikins that were wise work.

Caras.

Ah, let her have it, let her have her Humour till night, you know then you must strip her of all.

Basil.

Oh by all means; and besides, 'twill hinder our Mirth should you cross her now [...] Come begin there.

The Clowns Song at the Marriage of Mary the Buxome, in Eleven Movements, Sung to a Division on a Ground Bass: The Words implying a Country Match at Stool-Ball.
Ground Bass.
COme all, great, small,
Short, tall, away to Stool-Ball.
First Movement.
Down in a Dale on a Summers day,
All the Lads, and Lasses, met to be merry;
A Match for Kisses at Stool-Ball play,
And for Cakes, and A [...]e, and Cyd [...]r and Perry.
Will, and Tom, Hall, Dick, and Hugh, Kate, Doll,
Sue, Bess, and M [...]ll, with Hodge, and Bridget, Ned and Nanny,
But when Plump Siss got the Ball in her Mutton Fist,
Once fretted, she'd hit it further than any.
Third Movement.
Running, Hairing,
Gapeing, Staring,
Reaching, 'Stooping,
Hollowing, Whooping,
Sun a Setting,
All thought fitting,
To sit down and rest 'em
Fourth Movement.
Hall got Sue,
And Doll got Hugh,
All took by turns
Their Lasses and Buss'd 'em.
Fifth Movement.
Iolly Ralph was in with Pegg,
Tho freckled like a Turkey Egg,
And she as right as is my Leg
Still gave him leave to Touze her.
Sixth Movement.
Harry then to Katty,
Swore her Dugs were pretty,
Tho' they were all sweaty,
And large as any Cows are.
Seventh Movement.
Tom Melancholly was
With his Lass,
For Sue, what he e're cou'd do,
Wou'd not note him.
Eighth Movement.
Some had told her
Being a Soldier,
In a Party
With Macarty,
At the Siege of Limerick,
He was wounded in the S [...]rotum.
Ninth
But the cunning Philly
Was more kind to Willy,
Who of all their Ally
Was the ablest Ringer.
Tenth Movement
He to carry on the Iest
Begins a Bumper to the best,
And winks at her of all the rest,
And squeez'd her by the Finger.
Then went the Glasses round,
Then went the Lasses down,
Each Lad did his Sweet Heart own,
And on the Grass did fling her.
Ground Bass.
Come all, great and small.
[Page 29]Now Mrs. Bride.
Mary.

I cod I'll sing my Song then of the Mil [...]ers Daughter; Come give me the Trenchers.

A Song sung by Mary the Buxome.
THe old Wife she sent to the Miller her Daught [...]
To grind her Grist quickly, and so return back.
The Miller so workt it, that in eight months after,
Her Belly was fill'd as full as her Sack:
Young Robin so pleas'd her,
That when she came home,
She gap'd like a stuck Pig, and star'd like a Mome;
She hoyden'd, she scamper'd, she hallow'd, and whoop'd,
And all the day long,
This, this was her Song,
Hoy was ever Maiden so Lerricom Poop'd.
Oh Nelly, cry'd Celie, thy Cloths are all Mealy,
Both backside and Belly are rumpled all ore.
You Mop Mow, and Slubber, why what a Pox ail ye,
I'le go to the Miller, and know all you Whore.
She went, and the Miller so grinding, did ply▪
She came cutting Capers a foot and half high;
She wadled, and strodled, [...] hollow'd, and whoop'd,
And all the day long,
This, this was her Song;
Hoy, were e're swo Sisters so Lerricom Poop'd▪
Then Mary o' th' Dairy, a third of the number,
Would fain know the cause they so gig'd it about.
The Miller her Wishes, long would not encumber,
But in the old manner, the secret made out.
Thus Celie, and Nelly, and Mary the Mild,
Were all about Harvest time all big with Child.
They Danc'd in a Hey, and she hollowed and whoop'd,
And all the day long,
This, this was their Song;
Hoy, were three Sisters so Lerric [...]m Poop'd.
Basil.

Most excellently perform'd, I see the Bride's an Artist at it.

Quit.

Her motion quick and graceful, her Voice good too.

Teres.

Nay, at our Wake Mary us'd always to carry away the Gar­land, I'le say that for her; Bless us, how the [...]lding sweats, here tak [...] my Muckender Child.

Takes out a Clo [...].
Iaq.
[Page 30]

Do Flesh of mine, and wipe Bubbies.

He throws it to her.
Ma [...]y.

I wont now because you bid me.

She throws it in his Face.
Caras.

Oh, her Spirits are warm, you must not thwart her now Mr. Bridegroom.

Don Quix.

This exercise of Dancing is of use; it is as one may say, a kind of Vaulting, and Vaulting ever was held very useful, a proper Science in the Art of War, when I was young I had it in Perfection, and can now without Boots come over Rosinante.

Basil.

Sir, you excel in every thing.

Gives.

Lets in amongst 'em

* To Lopez.

now is the proper time; save ye Gen­tlemen.

I [...]ques.

O Lord, here's Master Peter come, and has brought his Mo­tion with him, I warrant: Oh Sirs, if ever you'll see a fine thing whilst you live, lets see Master Peter's Poppet Show; by Conscience this is the purest chance that he should come to set out our Wedding too.

Mary.

Oh Gemini Vather, the Poppet Show, I cod I am glad of this, for I have long'd to see a Poppet Show as much as ever I did to be Married, I'le Swear.

Mary Iumps and Dances about.
San [...]ho.

Well, well, dont make such a noise, dont be such a hoyden.

Teres.

And I too iffecks—

I [...]ques.

There we shall see Kings and Queens, and Moors, and Jews, and Bulls, and Bears. and Ladies, and Bishops, and Barbarians, and all the World by Conscience: Oh rare Master Peter, are you come Ifaith.

Quit▪

Ha, ha, ha, — how the Fool has mixed 'em, Bears and Ladies, and Bishops and Barbarians.

Basil.

Ay, I minded it— Well honest Friend, and what new matters have ye, hah.

Gives.

Of all sorts Sir: I have Motions proper for all kind of Stories. First, Sir, I can entertain y [...] with a pritty piece, call'd the taking of Namur, with the utter routing of the Confederate Army; you'll say 'tis very fine when 'tis performed.

Basil.

Ay, that will be a very fine peice indeed.

C [...]r [...]s.

Ay marry Sir, these are notable things indeed

Iaques.

Did not I tell ye what a pure Fellow he was; well by Con­science, there is not the like of this Master Peter in all Spain.

Gives.

Then I've a third, and please ye▪ upon an English Plot, 'tis call'd, English Men Satisfied; or, the Impossibility; 'Tis plaguy Sa­tyrical, it makes 'em the verriest Maggots; the mearest Shatter brains, for it shews, that neither Monarchy nor Commonwealth, nor Pope nor Protestant, nor War nor Peace, nor Liberty nor Slavery, nor Marrying nor Whoring, nor Reason nor Treason, can satisfie a right Englishman.

B [...]sil.

[...]umph — these are shrewd Matters Friend.

Gives.

Then, Sir, if you please to see any Mimickry, here's my Comrade shall divert ye better than any one in Spain; He shall Mimick a Cat in a Coal-Basket; a Mastiff Dog in a Court Yard; a Shoulder of Mutton upon a Spit; and a hundred thing [...]: beside, all so naturally— you would swear it was real.

Sancho.
[Page 31]

Pox take him for naming a Shoulder of M [...]tton, the Rogue has set my Mouth a watering at it—besides, this plague Aquavitae works so much in my Head, that if they don't make haste to Dinner, I shall ne're hold out till Night, Gadzooks.

Don Q.

Peace Sancho, but d [...]ye hear Friend — What Tracts of Hi­story can [...]our Motion perform, I am for that now? Can you shew no­thing about Knight Errantry.

Gives.

Oh, the finest Piece in the World, Sir, I can shew you the History of the disastrous Loves of Don Goyferos and Mellisandra.

Don Q.

Hah! — Cans [...] thou?

Gives.

Yes, Sir, how he freed Meli [...]endra from a strong Castle in Sansuena, where she had been close lock'd up by the Moorish King Mar­silius.

Don Q.

Ay, that, that, Friend for my Money, methinks I long to see how the valiant Knight Errant, Don Gayferos, behaved himself in that dangerous Adventure,— What, say Gentlemen and Madam, shall we see this noble History?

Quit.

Oh, with all my Heart, Sir, I am a great Admirer of 'em.

Basil.

That shall be our Evening Diversion— Now let's in to Din­ner, I warrant the Bride and Bridegroom are hungry; besides, we must have a Rowse or two to their Healths: Come, Mr. Bridegroom, manage your Spouse, and Noble Knight, pray follow.

Iaques leads Mary, and Don Q▪ Quitteria.
Sancho.

Ay, ay, come— a Rowse, a Rowse, let's Sing, and let's Bowze, Gadzooks my Master must Squire himself to day, for I must tope a Brusher or two more, now my hands's in, come what will on't.

Exit Sancho.
Enter Manet, Gines, and Lopez.
Gives.

So, thanks to good luck, thus far I'm undiscover'd, little does this Whim [...]ical Knight think that I am that famous Gines de Passamonte, that amongst the rest of my Brethren Gally-slaves whom he freed, beat him so damnably in the Mountains of Sierra Morena— My disguise here, and false Name of Peter, has, I f [...]nd, secur'd me from his know­ledge; Adventures on the High-way was my noble Function then, but some time after cunningly cheating a poor dull Fellow of his Motion, I have ever since set up for Master of the Poppets my self, under the umbrage of which Profession, I have play'd Pranks innumerable, no Man scaping my nimble Hand or subtle Brain, that I knew had ei [...]her Money or Moveable— The two Purses, Comrade, that were given to day, are too weighty to stay long in the Possession of those Fools, therefore are mark'd for ours— This Foolish Don and Clodpate Squire have Beasts to Ride on too, this must not be, Brother, whilst Men of Brain and Action go on foot — therefore in reason likewise are for us too.

Lopez.
[Page]

Say but how this is to be done, Brother, and I'le warrant I'le play my part.

Gives.

Why easily, as easily as you may Steal a Hen; As thus now When all these here are gapping at the Poppets, which I'le take care to hold 'em by th' Ears with, the Purses carelessly put in some Box or Cupboard in the Lodge there, then thou like Mercury, gliding through the Doors, may'st snap 'em in a moment.

Lopez.

I'll do my best endeavours.

Gives.

Then with what pleasure at a private hour shall we laugh at these Fools; Ah, of all Trades a Rogue is the most pleasant; They may talk of Merchants with their subtle Bargains; of Shopmen with fa­lacious Weights, and Measures; of Gamesters with false Dice, Law­yers with Lying; but for the Wit and Pleasure of Mystery, the Inge­nious, the right true modell'd Thief, is the delightful function in the World — Come Brother, first lets to the Stable— they are too busie within about themselves to take care of their Beasts without— but hold I think here's some coming out, — d'sdeath, 'tis the Knight and Squire, —and leading the Ass with them —let's Steal cunningly in behind 'em there's, the Horse left still, —and I've a close private place to secure him in — let 'em search how they can.

Exeunt.
Enter Don Quixote and Sancho drunk, Don Quixote leading the Ass.
Don Q.

Sancho.

Sancho.

— ugh — well.

Hiccoughs as drunk.
Don Q.

Fixing just now an Eye of Observation, I found in the Oeco­nomy of thy Behaviour, something Oprobrious to the Character of him that is my Squire, thou took'st thy Cups at a too lavish rate; a thing of­fensive to our sobe [...] Order; and though I six times call'd thee to make ready Rosinante for an Adventure I had just then thought on, thou an­sweredst not; which considering my Greatness, and what I am to thee, is a prodigious fault.

Sanc.

Why looky — ugh —though 'tis true, you did call me 6 times, —yet I was just then drinking 6 Bumpers in a hand — which I think, ugh, was another guess Adventure than yours — And as to your Great­ness, ugh; why looky, I am, ugh, six times greater than I was too.

Don Q.

Ah, shame on thee, thou art now less than ever—A Flea's a Creature of much larger Soul, nay and much larger Merit— thou great, no [...]orbid Fool, the Man that's Drunk—

Sanc.
* Hick [...]ups like one drunk.

Is as great as a King, Gadzooks.

Don Q.

Ceases to be at all, thou Soulless Insect —heaven— what affront is this to Chivalry— what scandal to thy Office.

Sancho▪

Ugh —hang my Office, 'tis a paltry lou [...]ie Office— an Office that▪ ugh — Gadzooks I [...]am asham'd of.

Don Q.
[Page 33]

How' [...] that, Brute?

Sancho.

And as for Chi, Chi, Chivalry, look ye—the Man that, ugh, carries Guts to the Bea [...]s, has a better Trade by half.

Don Q.

Oh Prophanation, oh monstrous Scoundrel, this to my Face▪

Sancho.

Nay, nay; look'ee, 'tis true, 'tis true; for my part, I speak nothing but the truth; and ugh—now am I resolved to speak my Belly full. When ye're an Anvile hold ye still; But when ye're a Hammer strike your fill. Pop—there's a Proverb for ye too.

Don Q.

What am I bound to bear for being rational? Poor Slave! this is the Wine, not him.

Sancho.

And d'ye hear, Friend, ugh, to be even with ye for all the Counsel ye have given me, let me advise ye, d'ye hear, to leave your Er­rantry, and go home, ugh; for to be plain—look'ee, as ye are, they take ye for no better—than a Fool-Master of mine.

Don Q.

Oh Dog!—'Sdeath, I shall want Patience — Come, Sirrah, and mount presently—I am your Squire for once, and will see ye safe to night—but to morrow, Rascal —

Sancho.

Mount—ay▪ come, with all my heart—that I may ride away from — Chi, Chi, Chivalry. D'ye hear, Friend mine, the Ass thinks one thing, and he that rides him another. I'll get far enough from Chivalry, Gadzooks.

Don Q.

The Villain sputters Proverbs, tho he is so sleepy, that he can hardly

Sancho gets on his Ass.

see to get up. I'll go now and fetch R [...]si­nante, and then get him into some adjacent Grove or other, that the Com­pany within mayn't see him. See, the drunken Slave's fast asleep already.

Gines.
peeping.

Ah Pox on him, there's no way to get by him.

Lopez.

[...]'ll bark like a Dog, and try to fright him.

Barks like a Dog, D. Qu starts.
Don Q.

Hah, what's this I hear: A Dog, a fierce one too, yet none kept h [...]re, nor in the Houses round us; 'tis obvious now this can be nought but Magick: some curst Inchanter here takes San­cho's part, on purpose to disgrace me. But Dog, or Devil, I'll not fear to attack him: Therefore come forth, thou tripple-headed Cerberus, that with thy Hearts Blood I may quell the Charm, and prove the force of my undaunted Valour

draws.

Not yet; nay then I'll drag thee from thy Kennel, and dare thy sharpest Phangs.

pulls out Lopez staring

Hah! What art thou? Can Dogs that bark turn Men?—O monstrous Me­tamorphosis!

Lopez is going.

Nay, shun me not, for I will speak to thee, to know why thou assumest the Face and Shape of one I saw to day — If thou art Substance, I dare thee with my Sword; or if a Ghost, that perhaps wantest Revenge, I promise that too—What, gone! Thou shalt not leave me thus; I'll follow thee, tho to the Center.

Lopez goes out, Don Quixot after him.
Enter Gines.
Gines.

So, I see Lopez is got away, and the Knight follows, but must return quickly; for he can no more overtake him, than a paltry Village Cu [...] can a light-foot Roe upon the Mountains—But hush, who have [Page 34] we here?—hah! — oons! 'tis the motly Squire, drunk too, and fast asleep. Humph, tho' we have mist our Design upon Rosinante, yet methinks that Ass tempts me strangely—Gad, I must have him , and I think I have a trick will do't—but I must go back to the Stable for some Engines I saw there.

Goes out and returns with stakes.

So, he's at it still, and gaping as if he were devouring Sleep by mouthfuls. Now dear Morpheus, let him but dream that he's regaling with Buttock Beef, Bacon, Brewis, and such like, and the Prize is my own. I think I have done, it now; wheiwh, wheiwh— Come, Dapple, come.

Props Sancho's Pannel up with Stakes, and steals the Ass from under him, and Exit.
Don Quixot returns.
Don Q.

I'm out of Breath with running — the Inchanter has given him Wings upon his Feet to speed him, lest with my Sword I should undo the Charm, and triumph o're his Art. I'm strangely embarassed, but must have Patience. Come, where's this Sot here? I'll first remove him to some private hole, and then recount the Miracle within.

Sees Sancho asleep on the Stakes

Ha! what's this I see? By all my Fame, a second Meta­morphosis— the Ass turn'd into Wooden Stakes. Hoa Sancho!

Shakes him, he falls to the ground,
Sancho.

Another slice of Pudding, good Molly.

dreaming.
Don Q.

He's dreaming he's at Dinner. Wake, Dolt, Fool, wake.

Sancho.

Hoa, Dapple, hoa; not too fast, good Dapple.

Scrambles up, and reels out.
Don Q.

Thinks the Ass has run from him too, insensible of what has befell by Magick. Oh Confusion seize this Inchanter! what senseless Tricks they play me; as if Asses transform'd, and Dogs turn'd into Men, could quell Don Quixot's Courage. No, ye Hell-searching Crew, if damn'd Medusa, or Infernal Circe, should round incircle me with Stigian Monsters, and Fiery Dragons threaten to devour me,

No Terror my undaunted Heart should charm,
Or e're abate the Vigour of my Arm.
Exit.
The End of the Third Act.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter Don Quixot, Basilius, Carasco, and Quitteiria.
Basil.

YOU tell us Wonders, Sir.

Don Q.

Sir, my Life is full of 'em. No day e're passes me without some Accident worthy of Wonder [...]—This last was but a Trial: my Enemies the Inchanters did but try what Mettal I was made of.

Quitt.

And when they found you Proof against their Malice, shrunk back with Shame—Oh wondrous Power of Chivalry!

Caras.
[Page 35]

Against the Charm of whose Heroick Vertue, Eg [...]ptian sharp-fang'd Dogs, nor Russian Bears, Tartarian Tygers, Lybian Cat a-Mountains; tho one attack it with invenom'd Teeth, and t'other whisk about with Tabby Tails, can e'er prevail a jot.

Basil.

But what said trusty Sancho, whom this strange. Adventure did most of all concern?

Don Quix.

A Sot, a Swine, Drunk as a Bachinal, past saying any thing, quite drown'd in sleep, his faculties all doz [...]d,' nor could my Wis­dom open his seal'd Eyes, nor sound Instruction penetrate his Scull.

Quit.

A mighty fault indeed, Sir Knight, considering the Credit of Knight Errantry's at stake, amongst whose Virtues cool Sobriety is still plac'd foremost,—I see it has a little troubled ye; but come, I hope Sir, this Evening's diversion will drive it from your thoughts, the Poppet Show's preparing, the mirth of that will mollifie—And see here comes the Bride and Bridegroom, Messengers I warrant from Don Gayferos and Melisendra, to invite ye to't.

Enter Mary, and Jaques.
Mary.

Gad slidikins, come away Gentlefolks, the Motion's ready. Master Peter hath been so busie within yonder, he has almost sweated himself away with setting on't up; I Cod there's the purest fine things that ever was seen, there's curious fine Poppet with a long Train, that's in Yellow—and another curious fine Poppet that's in Carnation—and then there's one with a little round Pearmain-face, full of Patches— with a w [...]at d'ye call't, a Commode cocking—as 'twere any Lady, or Dutchess, I Cod.

Iaques.

Ay, and then there's a Crumptious fine little Gentleman with a long Peruke, and a long Sword,—and about five inches long him­self; so glistering and brave, that if he were in another place, he'd be taken for a Lord by Conscience—odsbodikins, pray come away quickly.

Quit.

What says your Greatness, are your thoughts at leisure t'imploy themselves upon this Sport?

Don Q▪

Madam, your Beauties Servant shall wait on you this mo­ment, and the rather, because I think I see Sancho coming yonder, whose odious Metamorphosis from Man to Beast, is more horrible to me, than what I saw to day from Beast to Man.

Mary.

I Cod, and there's my Mother with him too; get away Master Knight, if you love your hearing, for she's in such a plaguy fusse about losing the Ass to day, that she'll be as loud as a Storm; I'll warrant you may hear her forty mile, if the Wind sit right.

Basil.

The Bride's in the right, Sir, therefore let's dodge 'em, 'tis no matter if they follow to the Poppet Show, there they'll be quiet—and perhaps cause more diversion, for they'r both now in admirable humours for't.

Aside to Carasco.
Caras.

I'll stay behind a little, and blow the Coals, we shall have the [Page] Comical effect on't another time.

Aside to Basilius.
Exeunt all but Car.
Enter Teresa and Sancho Drunk.
Ter.

Don't let him tell me of Inchantment, and I know not what▪ the Ass is gone by, a meer trick, 'tis plain, and you, like a drunken Sot as ye are, to put it up thus▪ 'odsbores, I'd have pinch'd his lockram Jaws 'till I had made him bray again, but I'd have had my Ass again, or Mony.

Sancho.

No noise, Crooked-Rib, no noise, as you hope to scape Cor­rection.

Reels.
Caras.

I have some inkling — of your Affair Mistriss—and truly am of your Opinion too—the Ass was gone by a Trick, and not Inchanted.

Teres.

Inchanted, 'ods bores, no more than I am, Sir—which my Swine there shall understand when he's sober, or he shall have such a din about his ears shall make him weary on't.

Caras.

Harkee, the Knight's at bottom on't, I heard him say t'other day—Sancho was too well mounted—and that Dapple far out-shin'd his Rosinante.

Teres.

Why look there now; 'ods bores, were I a Man, he should have heard on't at both Ears I faith—but you see what I am yoak'd to there, Sir.

Weeps.

You see what a Condition he's in—he could pour whole quarts to day down his ungodly throat,—but could not spare me so much as a Knipperkin to wet my Whistle, as the Saying is.

Sancho.

Reason, —Iniquity, Reason—I must not let my Mouse-Trap smell of Cheese; he that lets his Wife drink of every Cup, ugh, and his Horse at every Water, shall be sure to have neither of 'em good for any thing.

Caras.

Ay, but to deny her a Knipperkin, friend Sancho, shews that you love to be a little in the mode, and don't value a Wife very much, who, introth to me appears now to be a very comely Person, a handsom presence, and very fair.

Teresa simpers, and makes cursies.
Sancho.

Fair, ugh, ay, she's peerless Fair indeed; but d'ye hear Sir, the fairer the Hostess, the fouler the Reckoning; she's a plaguy Devil for all her fair looks.

Teres.

Too good for him that has her, Gravel-face.

Simpers, and makes cursies to Carasso.
Sancho.

How the jade smickers, and mops and mows at him.

Enter Mary in hast.
Mary.

Good Lord, Mother, if you are not bewitch'd, come away presently, Mr. Peter is just sending out a little little Gentleman all in Gold, to speak the Pro — Pro. I Cod I can't tell what they call it; come away with me, good now Mother, come away.

Pulls Teresa.
Teresa.

Will your Worship please to go first?

Ca [...]s.
[Page 37]

Oh no▪ I'll lead ye thi [...]her.

Exeunt, Teresa making mouths at Sancho.
S [...]o.

Hugh, she's v [...]y sweet upon his Worship, methinks —she gave me a scurvy look too, that was half as bad as calling me Cuckold to my face,— or doe [...] the [...]craggy Que [...]n design to give me Horns to make her self fat? I believe the Jade has read the Proverb, that says, Change of Pasture makes fat Calves; humph —Zooks I'll go in and watch her water.

Exit.

SCENE II.

The Poppet-Show dis [...]overs one Poppet dres [...]'d like the Emperor Charle­main Seated, another like Orlando Furioso, and a third like Arch-Bishop Turpin standing by. On both sides of the Stage without, are Seated Don Quixot, Basilius, Carasco, Quiteria, Altisidora, Jaques, Mary. Then Enters Sancho, who sits do [...]n by Gines, who stands with a Rod in his hand to Explain the Motion; then Don Gayferos Enters as Prologue.
Gines.

Gallants, and Noble Auditors, in the first place, be pleas'd to observe, that before I discover who those Noble Persons are that appear yonder in motion—I must inform ye that this is the Valiant Don Gay­feros, who respectfully introduce [...] himself by way of Prologue. Come, Noble Knight, make your Honours, and begin.

The Poppet bows to the Company, and Don Quixot rises up, and bows to the Poppet.
Don Quix.

A Noble Presence, and by my Profession of Arms, looks like the Character is given of him.

Quit.

The very shape and air of a Knight Errant, I warrant he'll fight for his Mistriss briskly.

Basil.

Oh like a Fury no doubt▪ his Whiskers declare as much.

Mary.

Look Mother, look there's a fine little Man, there's Cloaths! Oh Lord, there's a Sword!

Iaques.

By Conscience that's he I told ye of, and he that sits within yonder, is a Pope I warrant.

Ters.

A Pope,—a Fool, prithee let's hear a little.

Caras.

This must be a very Noble Knight—his very looks are Valiant.

Sancho.

Looks, oons—he looks as if he just came from the Sucking-Bottle, —he, a Knight Errant,—why he can fight with nothi [...]g but a Frog, nor that neither if it has e'er a [...]ulrush in's Claw.

Don Quix.

D'ye hear that Rascal—that filthy Firkin there Gentlemen, will do nothing but stink, and disturb us: Pray give me leave to rowl him out.

Basil.

Oh! 'tis below ye, Sir, we consider Sancho's condition.

Aside.

I shall laugh out.

Gines.
[Page]

Silence, Silence, pray Gentlemen,—Come▪ once more your Honour's Don, and then begin.

Poppet bows again, and Don Quixot returns it.
PROLOGUE
YOu'll find by the Ensuing Matters,
That I'm a Cuckold, kind Spectators;
Resolv'd, for th' honour of our House,
From Huckster's hands to free my Spouse:
For tho' I'de wink at a small shame,
A Cuckold's such a kind of Name,
A Scandal so against the hair,
Our Spanish Puncto cannot bear:
No more than you can, that sit there.
Besides, tho' Female Plagues are common,
Yet there is something still in Woman;
Some sweet alluring Jen Scay Quoy,
Some pleasing pretty tickling Toy;
Will make us venture without fears,
Through Dangers—over head and ears:
'Tis this that sends me to the Moors,
To fetch her from those Sons of Whores:
And spite of all their Guards, d'ye mind me,
To make her gallop home behind me;
As fast as e'er my Horse can carry,
I've given my word,—so sit ye merry.
Exit Prologue.
Gines.

This — Now Gentlemen, and Ladies, is Satyrically merry, as most alluding to the present Custom of Writing Prologues.

Mary.

I Cod, he spoke it purely, When shall we hear him again, I wonder?

Don Quix.

Patience, patience, prit [...]e go on Friend.

Altis.

Oh! let me warm me by his [...]air Eyes—let me sit by him, his very touch will charm me.

Oagles Don Quixote.
Quit.

I vow now I'll lock you up, if you are thus unruly—pray sit still Sir, I'll keep her from ye, she'll sit in your Lap else.

Gines.

Be pleas'd to observe now then, Courteous Spectators, that he that sits there with a Crown on's head, and a Scepter in his hand, is the Emperor Charlemain, the Father of the Princess Melisendra.

Teres.

Look there now, he's an Emperor, d'ye hear—I thought he was no Pope.

Mary.

Ods heartlikins, that ever I should live to see [...]n Emperor! But hold, let's hear more.

Gines.

And he that stands by him there, with that fierce look, and Beard of Martial overture—is the very Scare-Crow of France, and [Page 39] Flower of Knight Errantry Orlando Futioso, Couzen German to Don Gayferos, who would fain have tickled the Intellects of the Emperour's youngest Daughter Angelica; but she, as great Ladies have their Fancies, rather thought fit to take up with Medoro her Page.

Don Q.

No more of that, good Friend—Her Quality is too great to be jested with—And is that then, that most fam'd and most excellent of all our Order, Orlando Furioso—He was one of the twelve Peers, Gentlemen, the only Scourge of Rodomont and the Pagans. till he fell mad for Love of the bright Angelica. Oh most Heroick and Immortal Knight! I reverence thy Shoo-lappets.

Gines.

And now pray observe, Gentlemen, the moody Countenances that both the Emperour and the Knight have, because Don Gayferos makes no more hast to release the Princess Melisendra, who was ravish'd away by Marsilius King of the Moors, and kept in a strong Calste in Sensuenna. And pray note how Don Gayferos enters, wearing his Cozen Orlando's Sword Dirundina, which he had sent him to fight, and to free his Wife with. Pray likewise mark with what Submission he excuses himself to the Emperour, and with what Courage he resolves upon the noble Enterprize. Come Don Gayferos, where are ye?—Pox upon ye, why don't ye enter?

Don Q.

No cursing, Friend; no cursing—Here the Noble Knight comes.

Basil.

His Boots were not greas'd, I warrant; without doubt 'tis that has made him so tardy.

Enter Poppet Don Gayferos.
Caras.

Ay, or swift-footed Bayard might want shooing.

Teres.

Odsbores, here he comes agen; now we shall hear him claw it away, Mary.

Mary.

Ah, ah, so we shall—I cod, 'tis the littlest tiniest thing for a Husband— I cod, if he were mine, I should not tell what to do with him, unless 'twere to carry him about with me in my Pocket. But come, now let's hear what he says.

P. Don G.
'Great is my Sorrow, high and mighty Sir,
To Charlemain.
'That I this Journey did so long defer:
'But this a little may excuse the same,
'My self have had [...]ke Stone, my Horse was lame.
Carras.

Ha, ha, ha—that was sad indeed.

Don Q.

Oh! and by my Honour a very solid Excuse, and very rea­sonable.

Quitter.

Extremely reasonable; for to have undertaken such an Enter­prize in such a Condition, and on foot too, might have very much ha­zarded the happy Success.

Don Q.

Right, Madam; it may be so indeed.

Mary.

O lord, d'ye hear, Mother, he said he had the Stone—I cod, I'm sorry for that with all my Heart.

Iaques.

He would have but ill riding by Conscience. He said his Horse was lame too.

Teres.
[Page 40]

Well, well; I heard what he said well enough. Hark! he's go­ing to speak agen.

P. Don G.
'But now all things are suiting to my mind,
'My Horse is well before, and I behind;
'I'll free my Spouse, spite of what e're retards,
'From the curst Moorish King, and all his Guards.
'For her Dirundina I thus unsheath,
'And speedy Death to all oppose, bequeath.
'She shall behind me be on Courser plac't,
'And if she by the Pummel but hold fast,
'I'll fetch her spite of Bars or Iron Lock;
'And you to morrow, Sir, by Five a Clock
'Shall find her in my Bed without-her Smock.
Bows, and Exit.
Gines.

Shall find her in Bed without her Smock. Very well, Sir Knight, and a very good Conclusion that.

Mary.

I cod, that's pure; hoh, hoh, hoh—Did ye hear that, Mo­ther?

Teres.

Did I? — I think I did —'Dslid, I begin to like the Man a great deal better than I did—Tho' he's but little, there's Mettle in him, I see.

Sancho.

'Oons, what plaguy Stuff's this!— Ugh, I can't under­stand a word on't, not I— I'll take t'other Nap, Gadzooks.

Basil.

Now— What thinks the Noble Don Quixot? Does not your Brother Knight promise very fairly?

Don Q.

Faith, yes; I like his Promise well enough: But to tell the Emperour her Father, that he should find her in Bed without her Smock, that methinks wanted a little Decency — He should have allowed her a little clean Linnen to be seen in.

Quitt.

I confess I'm of the great Don Quixot's Opinion clearly; nay, it should have been very fine Linnen too, to shew her Quality.

Carasc.

Ah, 'tis all one for that, if the Emperour own'd her: A Prin­cess is a Princess as well without a Smock as with one.

Mary.

Come now, Mother—I wonder what's to be next, hah.

Teres.

Pish, hold your Tongue; Master Peter will tell us presently.

Gines.

Now, Gallants, be pleas'd to observe, how the Scene changes to a strong Castle in Sansuenna, where the beauteous Melisendra is Impri­son'd by Marsilius King of the Moors; and cast your Eyes a little further, and you shall see him with her upon the Terras Walk, first making Love, then threatning her with Torments, if she reject it; which she, resolv'd on Constancy to her dear Spouse, contemns. Pray note 'em, here they come.

Enter Poppet Marsilius, and Poppet Melisendra.
Teres.

Oh Gemini! here's two pure fine things more.

Mary.

Oh Lord, but one of 'em's a black thing tho; I warrant he's to eat the tother for being so fair.

Gines.
[Page 41]

Observe how he seats her, and now commands some [...]ersons of Art of his Retinue to entertain her with a Song and a Dance.

SONG. Perform'd by Two Poppets, one representing a Captain, and t' o [...]her a Town Miss.
To the Tune of a Minuet.
Pop Capt.
DEar Pinkaninny,
If half a Guiny
To Love will win ye,
I lay it here down:
We must be thrifty,
'Twill serve to shift ye,
And I know fifty
Will do't for a Crown.
Duns come so boldly,
Kings Money so slowly,
That by all things holy
'Tis all I can say.
Yet I'm so wrapt in,
The Snare that I'm trapt in,
I▪ as I'm true Captain,
Give more than my Pay.
Pop Miss Sings.
GOod Captain Thunder,
Go mind your Plunder;
Odzounds! I wonder
You dare be so bold.
Thus to be making
A Treaty so sneaking,
Or dream of the taking
My Fort without Gold.
Other Town Misses
May gape at Ten Pieces;
But who me possesses
Full Twenty shall pay.
To all poor Rogues in Buff
Thus, thus, I strut and huff;
So Captain Kick and Cuff,
March on your way.
To all poor Rogues, &c.
P. Mar.
Since your bright Eyes and Beauties of your Face
Have scorch'd my Heart like any burning Glass,
Think not that I will longer bear your Scorn,
Or cherish these strong Flames without return.
If because I am black retards my Joy,
I'll come at Night, and not offend your Eye.
But if you flight my Love without Remorse,
Rather than perish for you, I must force.
P. Melis.
My Love long since lockt up is given away,
And of that Lock my Husband has the Key.
P. Mars.

But for that Casket I a Picklock have.

P. Melis.

A Picklock suits a Thief, Sir, not the Brave.

P. Mars.
We all are Thieves in Love's free Commonweal,
And know the Treasure sweetest when we steal.
P. Melis.
I know not what by stealing you may win,
But through my Will you ne're shall enter in.
Don Gayferos my Heart must only have;
A fam'd Knight Errant, valiant, bold, and brave.
Don. Q.

Ah — Well said, sweet Lady — Now by my Knighthood thou deservst him richly.

P. Mars.
[Page 42]
I scorn Knights Errant, and such ragged Imps;
Your's is a fool, and all the rest are Pimps.
Don Q.

You're a black Son of a Whore, and ye lie; and by the Life of Amadis du Gaul, were you and I together on a Mountain —

Gines.

Oh good Sir Knight be patient— Good lack, Sir, the Pop­pet does not mean any thing to you, Sir; he only speaks the Words as they are writ.

Don Q.

Such Words as those are odious and offensive.

Basil.

That Jest was rarely tim'd, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Mary.

I cod, I'm cruelly afraid for all this, that black Devil will swal­low up that dear white pretty Creature.

Teres.

No, no, Fool; I tell thee there's no harm in him; he only means to ravish her a little, or so.

Iaques.

Ay, ay—that must be all; my Mother-in-Law has hit it by Conscience.

Don Q.

Go on then, Friend — I shall see how he behaves himself.

P. Mars.
Since then for Diet Conjugal you moan,
I'll teach you how to chew the Cud alone:
In you strong Castle you shall guarded lie,
And to refresh ye no one come but I.
Exeunt, he dragging her.
Teres.

Look'ee there now; he says he' [...]l only refresh her. I told thee, he would not eat her—

Mary.

Nay, then 'tis well enough.

Don Q▪

That M [...]orish Tyrant, Mr. Peter, is very barbarous; I have hardly Patience with him.

Gines.

Patience—'Dsheart, this is ridiculous enóugh— He takes the Poppets for real Persons, ha, ha, ha, ha— Well, thus far you see how much the poor Princess is in Distress; but now chear your Hearts, and lift your Eyes to behold the valiant Don Gayseros come pransing to Sansuenna, to release his Love and dearest Melisendra — You must suppose it now to be Night, and that by Instinct he has found her Window the North side of the Castle; and see how she appears there with a [...]ape [...], as ready to recieve him.

Poppet Melisendra comes to the Window.
Enter Poppet Don Gayferos on H [...]rseback.
Mary.

I cod, here he comes; this is pure now; I hope he'll get her d [...]wn, Faith.

P. Don G.
Look down, bright Star, if Love has guided right,
With glittering Beauty gilding gloomy Night,
Appear, and bless thy amorous weary Knight.
P. Melis.

Who calls with Voice as sweet as Morning Lark?

P. Don G.
'Tis I, my Love, who come from France Inth dark,
My dearest Piakaninny to set free.
P. Melis.

Don Gayferos my Husband! Is it thee?

P. Don G.
'Tis [...], 'tis [...], the truest kindest Spouse
That ever Marriage Mouse-trap did inclose.
P. Melis.

Ah me! what shall I do?

P. Don G▪
[Page 43]
Rouze up thy Wits,
And thro' the Window slide down by the Sheets:
Tye fast the Knot, and when thou hast done so,
I, thy Dear Spouse, will Horse thee here below:
P. Melis.
I'll venture Bones and Neck, for who is she
My Dearest Lord, would not be Hors'd by thee?
Don Quix.

Brave Lady, upon my Honour her Love and Constancy. move me so, that it brings the tears into my eyes, I could weep for her, —oh vexation — is that Teizer— still there to plague me?

Altis. makes Love signs to him
Quit.

This was a very passionate Scene indeed,—pray observe Altis. the little Rogue Acts it rarely.

To Basilius.
Basil.

Ha, ha, ha — I see her, she makes the rarest faces at him.

Mary.

Hey Boys, he Boys—she's coming Mother, she's coming down faith.

Teres.

Ay, and if the Sheet be but ty'd fast now, she'll be Hors'd in a twinkling.

Iacques.

The Gentleman's Nag stands very quiet too, I warrant he knows who he is to carry behind him.

Gines.

But now, Noble Spectators, to shew Fortune's mutability in Love Affairs, and to shew ye withal, the regular ingenuity of the piece we present— here is to be a turn — which is held by all to be a Beauty in Dramatick Writing; the turn therefore thus explains it self. Come Beauteous Lady Melisendra — open your Window, and come out.

Here Poppet Melisendra coming out of the Window to get down by the sheet, is hitch'd by a Tenter-hook, and hangs half way.
P. Melis.
Oh! Fortune, Fortune, still unkind to Love,
I neither can get down — nor stay above.
Gines.

There's the turn now, she was just falling into his Arms, and now is hang'd half way, upon a Tenter.

P. Don G.

Why sighs my Love?

P. Melis.

Alas! I'm hung i'th Air;

P. Don. G.

I'll cut thee down — with a swift Lover's care,

P. Melis.
Ah, Sir, not for the World, my knees are bare:
And something may undecently be shown,
You must not peep upon, tho' tis your own:
P. Don. G.
In such distress, we the best means must prove,
To save your Modesty, I'll wink, my Love.
Gines.

Here you may observe the modest Candor of the Lady Meli­sendra's nice Character, who would not suffer her self to be unhitch'd, till Don Gayferos had promis'd her upon his Honour to wink: D'ye mark that?

Caras.

That was nice truly, and considering she's a Married Woman too, very rare.

Mary.
[Page 44]

I Cod, I'll lend her my Muckender—here Friend, pray give her this to cover her knees a little, tho' 'tis course, 'tis clean.

Teresa.

Pish, nay, prithee Mary let her alone.

Mary.

What, and let every body see all — I Cod but I won't tho' don't you see how her Legs hang sprawling there; here friend, take it I say.

Holds out her Muckender
Gines.

Oh thank ye, Mistris [...], thank ye, but you see the Knight has done the business without— and now there's joy on both sides; get up, get up — quickly sweet Lady get up.

Here Poppet Melisendra gets up behind Poppet Don Gayferos, and he gallops off with her

.

Mary.

Hey Boys, hey boys, he has got her, he has got her, hogh, hogh, hogh, she's gone, she's gone, faith.

Stands up, and jumps.
Gines.

But for all this good Success, you must now hear the fatal Ca­tastrophe; for by this time some malicious Spies have inform'd the Moorish King she's fled, who presently Consults his Chancellor, Secretary of State, and Principal Officers of his Household and Army to fetch her back— To perform which, see on a sudden how they and all his Guards are ready, and he at the head of 'em, foaming with Rage. Hark, hark, pray hear what he says, — And see how the Emperor Charlemain and his Party are, tho' far infe [...]iour in number, yet to assist Don Gayferos, have march'd a Journey to meet 'em.

Here Poppet Marsilius appears at the head of the rest on Horseback, and Charlemain and the rest on't 'o [...]her side.
P. Mars.
Follow me, Sirs, I'll fetch her back again,
And spite of th' feeble Power of Charlemain,
And all his Resty Knights, the Wench enjoy,
Don Quix
Ye noisy blustring sooty Fool — ye lye.
Here Don Quixot rises up in a rage.
For as a Brother of her Husband's Order,

And to revenge me on your Pagan Insolence, I the Renown'd Don Quixot will defend her, and so have at ye all.

Here Don Quixot draws his Sword, and fancying he is to fight with Armed M [...]n—cuts, slashes, hacks and demolishes the Spe­ctat [...]rs: All run ou [...] but Carasco, and Sancho.
Gines.

Hold, hold, why, Sir Knight—mercy on me, are ye mad? why these are but Poppets, they are not real — oh! undone, undone— why hold, hold — they are but Poppets, I tell ye.

Sancho.

What's the matter now? hey — what, more fighting work, gad zooks, I'll get out of harms way.

Exit.
Don Quix.

Poppets, ay Pigmys too, —and would be Giants pre­sently, if the Inchanters please —but I think I have mawl'd em, and the Ladie's at home by this time.

Gines.

Ay, you have maul'd em, oh that ever I was born—my Mo­tion spoil'd, my Livelyhood lost, oh, undone, undone, oh,

Howls out.
Caras.

Bless me, what a Massacre is here,—What have you done, Sir?

Don Quix.

Done, Sir?

Gines.
[Page 45]

Done Sir? ay, and undone, Sir—Oh Lord! was there ever such a mad prank?

Don Quix.

Why, have I not assisted the Noble Knight Don Gayferos?

Caras.

Sdeath you have assisted nothing, Sir — the Figure [...]s were not real, you have only confounded the Motion, spoil'd the Poppets, and undone the poor Fellow here.

Don Quix.

Humph—why then by my Renown I thought 'em all in earnest, and being very angry with that black King there for his inso­lence, gave my relief accordingly.

Gines.

You thought—ay that's fine amends for me indeed — will your thought mend my Motion — Oh unfortunate hour, oh!

Howls.
Caras.

Peace Friend, the generous Knight will consider on't, and pay thee for thy loss.

Don Quix.

'Tis I confess against my Order to do wrong — therefore go Fellow, gather up thy fragments, and put rates upon 'em, I [...]ll make thee satisfaction.

Gines.

Why look ye, in the first place, here's the Emperor Charlemain with his head off, oh poor Emperor,

Takes up the Poppet.

I shall never get such another, it deserves a Pistol as well as one Penny deserves another —but Six and Eight Pence I must have for him, that's the lowest.

Don Quix.

Is this that Noble Emperor that so boldly held Paris against the Pagans? Oh, I heartily b [...]g his Pardon, and am asham'd to see him thus dismember'd—thou shalt have Six and Eightpence Friend.

Gines.

But then, oh dismal to behold— here's Orlando Furioso with­out an Arm, and his neither Jaw —here's a Furioso for ye, here's a Knight Errant, a router of Giants, and killer of Dragons, see how he looks—oh dismal to behold

Shews the Poppet.
Caras▪

Sirrah—hold that up at a good rate, Knights Errant are worth mony.

Gines.

I know't, I know't —

Aside.

As for him, considering his Chivalry, I look upon him to have twice the value of the Emperor, a Pistol is the least, the least that can be, and cheap too.

Don Quix.

'Tis so indeed —but prithee take him from my sight Friend, for I cannot look on the Brave Knight thus hack'd without re­morse of Consience—and by his Fame I cannot help confessing that I deserve for those two blows I gave him, to be serv'd so my self: But prithee go on Friend.

Gines.

Then here's Arch-Bishop Turpin —pox on't, I go to Church so seldom my self, that I don't know how to value a Bishop.

Caras.

Ha, ha, ha, what would I give Basilius were here!

Gines.

Then here's —the Chancellor — and Privy-Counsellor to the black King—Gad forgive me, one without a Nose, and t'other an Ear snipt off, and three fingers of his left hand; let me see, a King's Chancellor and Privy-Counsellor —I should have a Statesman here now, to help to value these.

Don Qix.
[Page 46]

They should be valu'd 'tis true by their own Peers — But come, make hast Friend.

Gines.

Why look ye then, Nine Pence a Piece I think one with ano­ther; for you know one must rate them according to their honesty, and as they are true to their trust.

Caras.

Very reasonable, faith.

Don Qix.

Ay, ay, 'tis so —but come, without praising more in particular, let's know what thou valuest the rest at in a lump, and come in and take your Mony.

Gines.

You have gelt the Kings Captain here too, maim'd above twenty of the Guards, and hamstring'd their Horses; Oons you laid about ye like a Devil, so that between Turk and Jew, if you'll pay for them in the lump I think forty shillings more will but just do.

Don Qix.

That makes in all much about three pound; well, come in, and thou shalt have it Fellow.

Caras.

Why this is Noble, like Don Quixot's Character.

Gines.

Why bless him I say, and send him to be a King as soon as possible.

Gines makes mouths at him.
Don Quix.

All this now was for want of heed and patience. But we must do right, good Sir, we must do right, for here I was in the wrong unhappily.

Fate send me far from such another broil,
Gines.

And me more Motions, for such Fools to spoil.

Exeunt.
End of the Fourth Act.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter Basilius, Carasco, Quitteria and Altisidora.
Basil.

HA! ha! ha! has he paid the Poppet-Man?

Caras

To a Farthing, and is now retir'd there into that Closet to avoid the intolerable passion, as he calls it, of your Neece Altisidora.

Quit.

His sculking up so close shan't hinder our coming diversion; for we have a new Plot upon him, our new Dary-Maid is to Act Inchanted Dulcinea—and Altis. is ready here for a new attack upon him.

Altis.

I intend to teize him now with a whimsical variety, as if I were possess [...]d with several degrees of Passion — sometimes I'll be fond, and sometimes freakish; sometimes merry, and sometimes melancholy,— sometimes treat him with Singing and Dancing, and sometimes scold and rail as if I were ready to tear his eyes out. Go you to your peeping place, and you shall see such a Scene.

Basil.

And then I have given order to the Servants to supply Sancho [Page 47] with more Liquor—we must have a C [...]mbate Royal about the Ass too, or we lose half our sport.

Caras.

Time enough for that anon. Let your Neece Act her Whim first: Come, let's to our Peeping-Hole, I hear him moving within.

Exeunt all but Altisidora, who knocks at the Door.
Don Q. within.

What boldness dares me from my Thoughts remove? What art thou? Speak.

Altis.
A Votary of Love;
Fond as the Lids that close those precious Eyes,
From whence, tho' Sun be missing, Day dos rise.
Enter Don Quixot undress'd in his Nightcap.
Don Q.

Oh luckless Maid! Why dost thou follow me?

Altis.

I can't help it, ye sweet, sweet hony-Man you.

Don Q.

Thou talkst Erroneously — I am not sweet; none of our bustling Order can be so—nor am, nor ever was, a Hony Pot: I've not a drop of Honey, Child, about me. Man's but a better sort of Animal — If he be brave and honest, he may smell — in Vertues sweet, tho he's himself not Amber—

Altis.

Ah — me— Must I ne're hope then to find Grace— in those ador'd black Eyes?

Don Q.

Grey, grey—Another notorious Mistake —my Eyes are grey as Grimalkin—Bless me! how blind is Love?

Altis.

Grey let them be then; they are twinkling still, and in their Sockets like two farthng Candles burn out themselves, and leave poor me in Darkness.

Don Q.

Hah!— there's another sign now, how much the poor Crea­ture's Sense is disturb'd — her defect in Simile; she would else have put in Tapers of Four in the Pound — For to say my Eyes are like Farthing Candles, is but a diminutive Complement.

Altis.

Death, Dungeon, Darkness, Furies, Fate, and Fire! What's in him that can cause this Wrack within me? For now I consider better, and look on him, he's not handsom a bit; nay, by my Virginity

here she starts into her freakish Fit

not tolerable, nor so sweet as a Dock-leaf, nor so cleanly as a Radish new pull'd — his Shape awkard and ghastly.

Don Q.

So.

Altis.

And his Face —ugly and abominable.

Don Q.

Very good —she look'd Eastward last Minute, but now some little Cub Devil sits upon the Fane of her Fancy, and turns it Nor­therly.

Altis.

And then for his foolish Profession, his Knight Errantry.

Don Q.

Hah —

Altis.

'Tis the most absurd, the most ridiculous, the most — hah! what am I saying?

here she turns in a very passionate Tone.

O mighty Love, forgive me; I lie, I lie, I lie, I lie, he is handsom, he is sweet, he is clean; his Wit is admirable, his Profession glorious; his Shape a Droit, [Page] and grateful as a Hero's; his Fa [...]e serene, and charming as a Cherubin.

Don Q.

Hey — shew me, thou fam'd and skilful Mariner, the Face of the unfathom'd Gulph of Florida, where Winds from all the Corners of the Globe, by fickle Nature change their Course each moment, and I'll shew thee this other Gulph of Woman — Young as she now appears, yet right, right Woman — Woman, that like the Satyr in the Fable, can with the self-same Breath blow hot and cold.

Altis.

Ah — must then, Dulcinea— have ye all—what parts has she— beyond me— look in my face —Is it not pretty—

Don Q

Compar'd with hers, a Pebble to a Diamond— A virgin indeed thou art like her, and—

Altis.

Younger I'm sure by far—Perhaps too young; but I [...]ll so swell my Breasts, and heave and fall, and mould 'em with my Hands to make 'em grow— pull down my Stays, that they may shew themselves, and Jett it up and down.

Ietts up and down the Stage

Pray mind me, Sir, to shew my Shape and Aire; that as the Loadstone does the Obedi­ent Iron—should draw by force to me all Hearts but yours—

Sighs, and looks amorously on him
Don Q.

Thus will it be where-ever I reside—If Women chance to see me, there is a Saying old and very famous, That when a Man's a Favorite of the fair, he has been wrapt up in his Mother's Smock. Sure mine, to make me charm thus, flead her self, and made me Blankets of her very Skin.

Altis.

Has Dulcinea Legs? I'll lay ten Duckets [...]hat mine are straighter; for if Fame not lie—she had the Rickets once▪ and hers are crooked; her Feet too big and splay, as I have heard, and turn in like a Maw­kins at a Boarding-School. But loak how small mine are, like little Mice.

Shews her Feet.

And had I leave to speak of other matters—ah, Sir—

Don Q.

By Fame, if I don't [...] her, the Creature is so rapt, that she'll talk Bawdy.

Altis.

She may boast of gaining ye by her rare Qualities; but, Sir, did I but shew—

Don Q.

No, Maid▪ no shewing — I will conceive things well of ye without it—'tis as I said—Oh strong effect of Passion!

Altis.

I mean some rare Perfections of the Mind, as well as Graces of the Body, Sir. Come now, you shall see me sing and dance, and how far I excel dull Dulcinea.

H [...]re Altisidora sings.
[Page 49]
In Five Movements.
1. Movement. Love.
FRo [...] Rosie Bowers, where sleeps the God of Love,
Hither ye little wa [...]ting Cupids fly,
Teach me in soft melodious Strains to move,
With tender Passion my Hearts darling Ioy.
Ah! let the Soul of Musick tune my Voice
To win dear Strephon, who my Soul enjoys.
2. Movement. Gaily.
Or if more influencing,
Be doing something a [...]ry,
With a Hop and a Bound,
And a Frisk from the round,
I'le trip, trip like a Fairy.
As when on Ida dancing
Were three Celestial Bodies,
With [...]n Air and a Face,
And a Shape and a Grace,
Let me charm like Beauty's Goddess.
3. Move. slow. Melancholy.
Ah! 'tis in vain, 'tis all, 'tis all in vain,
Death and Despair must end the fatal Pain;
Cold, cold Despair disguis'd, like Snow and Rain
Falls on my Breast: Blea [...] Winds, in Tempests blow,
My Veins all shiver, and Fingers glow:
My P [...]lse beats a dead March for lost Repose,
And to a solid lump of I [...]e my poor fond Heart is froxe,
4. Movement. Passion.
Or say, ye Powers my Peace to Crown,
Shall I thaw my self, and drow [...]
Amongst the Foaming Billows,
Increasing all with Tears I shed;
On Beds of Ooze, and Christal Pillo [...]s,
Lay down my Love sick Head.
5. Movement. Swift. Frenzy.
No, no, I'le streight run mad,
That soon my Heart will warm;
When once the Scense is fled,
Love has no Power to Charm.
Wild thr [...]' the Woods I'll fly,
And dare some savage Boor;
A thousand Deaths I'll dye,
E're thus in vain Adore.
D. Q.
[Page 50]

This I confess, another Heart might charm, but mine is Con­stant as the Northern Star —and Dulcinea only must Enjoy it.

She pause [...], and then Frown [...].
Alis.

Let her Enjoy it then, and some Ten Thousand, some Fifteen Hundred, Fourscore and odd Furys; take her for her pains; but I'll not Dye however—No, hear me, Don Bullet-head; thou Jack-a-lent, fit to hang on a Sign Post; thou Scheliton of Barber Surgeons-Hall; thou Wall-Nutt-Colour'd, Lean Jaw'd, Head of a Base Vyol—thou Baboon on Cock-Horse, fit only to ride before the Bears: Thou maim'd, mi­serable, mischievous, mouldy, mangy, Maggot-eaten Monster: Thou poor, paltry, Pimping, putrifi'd, proud, Penny-less Puppy, hear me. Mer­lin is coming, he'l revenge all my Wrongs;

I see him there in Vision, and Dulcinea with him,

Who spite of thee, shall be Enchanted still,
And so thou Wither'd Eel-skin stuft, farewell.
Exit in a Rage.
Merlin and Dulcinea rise out o'th' Stage.
Don. Q.

Why, what a Hurricain of Extravagancy is there in Woman, when she's once inrag'd — but hold, either my Senses fail me, or Dul­ [...]inea greets my Eyes indeed—'Tis so, and the Immortal Merling with her. Cou'd then that little passionate Imp speak Truth? O Gracious Figures! what do ye intend?

Dul.

To Frica [...]ee thy Soul, thou dull performer of Womens business, when there's most occasion; and to Dine upon thee, if I could get leave of my Reverend Keeper here, to have my Wish and Dyet that I long for: Is this the honour of Knight Errantry, to promise and not do? Oh most dishonourable! was I not to be freed from my Enchantment by some few Lashes laid on lazy Sancho? Yet to thy lasting shame, the Debts not paid yet, when tho' he might be resty—yet a Lover, as thou pretend'st to be—might have Engag'd him, or at least have▪ from its Covering, stript thy own tough Hide, and with a Horse Whip or strong Bridle Raigns, have given thy self five hundted Jerks by Proxy; this had begun a means for my releasement; but on th' contrary, I have a Rival here; and Dulcinea is no more remembred then the Old Boots are when they are left off. Well, since 'tis so, farewell Ingrate for ever; I'leto my Cave agen, far under ground—

Chaw Roots and Acorns, and Inchanted lye,
Worm Eaten Knight and musty Squire de [...]ie;
And wish they both were hang'd, and so Godbuy.
Descends.
Don Q.

Stay Princess, sweet surprising Vision, stay. I have been much to blame in not performing, by my Authority, dull Sancho's Task — which when I meet him next, shall trebly make amends; and see blest Fortune sets him before my Eyes this very moment, but in a vile Condi­tion—Drunk —no matter; that may now chance to be Con­venient to make him bear his Whipping-Pennance better.

[Page 51] Enter Teresa, and Sancho.
Tere.

Here he is and I [...]ll begin with him first my self— here's a foul House as one may say in a twinkling, the whole Family is together by the ears already —the Ass was lost yesterday, and Master Carasco tells us your Worship can tell within a mile of an Oak where he is —and now the New Married Couple have lost their Purses that were given 'em, no one knows how, and they believe each other is the Thief; there's a fowl House within yonder.

Don Qix.

Prithee Woman leave me, why prat'st thou to me of Purses and of Asses, I cannot hear these vulgar matters now—Sancho, a word.

Teres.

Vulgar Matters—nay, then let me tell ye, as vulgar as the matter is, your Worship is shrewdly suspected to have a hand in't— and that the Ass and you are not far off one another.

Don Qix.

Alas I hear thee not, nor mind thee,

To Tersa.

Come hither Sancho—I have had a Vision just now of Dulcinea— has torn my heart in pieces—she complains Sancho

Sancho.

Look ye, Master, [...]ine—ugh—let's divide things equally, ugh, Dulcinea —is your Friend, and Dapple is mine.

Don Qix.

Still muttering about Dapple—what dost thou mean, why dost thou clog my ears with thy strange folly?

Teres.

Your ears, Odslidkins I'll be drumming there this Month unless we have the Ass—you need not have put this trick upon us, my Husband has not got so much in your Service.

Sancho.

Well said, ugh—Buttock—thour't in the right, and d'ye hear, Sir, as great as you are, remember this, the Nightingal and Cuckoo sing both in a Month, therefore let Dapple be produc'd—what, I am not grown so Rich with being a Squire, but I can miss 'em, when any of my goods are purloyn'd—better have a Mouse in the Pot, than no Flesh at all—Dapple was a considerable moveable.

Teres.

I am sure, if I had brought him forth—I could not have been more careful of him—and therefore Odsbores, bring him agen, and quickly, of—you shall hear such a noise—

Noise within.

I must be gone now to make peace between Mary and her Husband, whom I hear in a filthy squobble yonder—but if Dapple be not forth-coming against I come back again—the Roaring Sea shall be nothing to me.

Exit Teres.
Don Qix.

Was ever such a Couple joyn'd as these, one's Drunk and dos'd, t'other bewitch'd, and mad—but at this juncture I must bear with all—and as I was telling thee Sancho, the Beauteous Dulcinea complains—as well she may, of our remisness to her, that thou hast not yet given thy self the Lashes—nor I ungrateful have refresht thy me­mory—but come, five hundred I expect this moment—the Place is as it should be, still, and proper, thy Doublet too unbutton'd seems consenting—and I my self will help thee to unstrip.

Sancho.

Strip—yes, yes, you are good at stripping—my Wife [Page] [...]ays you have strip'd me of my Dapple already—and if you can, strip me of my Doublet too, gad zooks you shall strip me of my Skin, and that will be pretty difficult.

Don Qix.

No, fleaing will be over-doing it—some brisk smart Lashes to the blood or so, will serve to disenchant the Princess, and those thou hast already given thy word for.

Sancho.

Ay—ugh, that may be—but there's difference between a word and a blow, Seignior—besides, I promis'd for a Government worth something— now my Government happening to be worth nothing, my Promise is void in Law.

Don Qix.

Come, I'll bear part with thee, to honour the performance, I'll take off fifty from thee, and flaug my self.

Sancho.

That you may—and to honour—the performance, as you say, I'll help you to unstrip, if you please — but by thinking to have me curried, is a malignant design upon my person; come, come, Sir, 'tis a hard Winter when one Woolf eats another; if Dapple had been here, and promises perform'd — some Lashes might have follow'd, but now—

Don Qix.

What now, ungrateful?

Sancho.

Why now I shall say unto my Buttocks— ugh, Friends mine sit ye down in a whole skin —for if flauging must do yours and the Princesses business—all that I can advice is, to flaug one another.

Don Qix.

You shall be kick'd into compliance, incorrigible Rascal.

Sancho.

Hearkee Master mine—not a Word more of kicking— A small Sum, look'ee, will pay a short Reckoning, I am not so much in your Debt now Dapple's gone—to bear that; and therefore if you kick here, as the Song says, were you as good as George a Green, I should make bold to kick agen.

Don Q.

Oh Slave! What? Rebel against thy Natural Lord! I'll pound thee into Ashes.

Here they fight; Don Quixot falls, and Sancho gets astride on him.
Sancho▪

Ay, ay, come on—many Words go to a bargain—Now have I great

Enter Basilius, Quitteria and Altisidora

mind to beat him from a Knight to a Squire, that we may be both upon equal terms.

Basil.

Wonder of Wonders! What's this I see? Don Quixot overthrown, and by his Varlet too—Why how now, Sancho!—d'ye know who you are pounding so?

Sancho.

Why, he was for pounding me; and now you see the Dice are turn'd, I'm pounding him.

They take him off.
Altis.

What! the fam'd Knight swing'd by his Man. Oh! I shall die to see this—ha, ha, ha—

Don Q.

Have then my cruel Stars disgrac'd me thus, Knight Errantry avaunt—forgot be Dulcinea—I'll never see the Sun shine forth agen.

Rises up, and runs out in a Rage.
Quitter.

Ha, ha, ha, ha; this is Currasco's Trick upon him; I find he has been managing Sancho.

Basil.
[Page 53]

Her [...] comes [...] of [...] and brawling; never was Marriage turn'd to such a Cou [...]ter-Scuffle.

Enter Te [...]sa, Jaque [...], and Mary.
Mary.

Come, come, say what you will I'll have my Purse agen; I cod, I won't be chous'd so—What▪ ta [...]e away your Wife's Money the first Week of her Marriage? Ah, Nicompoop▪

Iaques.

You chous'd —No, no, 'tis—I am chous'd by Consci­ence. What? D'ye think I'm blind? D'ye think I can't see how things go between ye?

Teres.

Between us—Come Son-in-law, don't put your Afflictions upon me, you had not best, [...]or tho I've had my Daughter's concerns, I have never had your Concerns in my Hand, I'm sure—And say what you will, you must have the Money, or no body; and truly, as she says, 'tis a Nicompoop thing to be [...]o [...]rty the first Week—No body robs their Wives the first Week they are married, whatever they do af­ter [...]ards.

Basil▪

How's [...]hat? Rob'd d'ye say'

Quitter.

Of the Purses we gave 'em, I warrant.

Mary.

Ay, as true as you are there, Madam; and I never handled it but once [...]ince I had it.

Teres▪

[...]y, and I'd have it [...] and upon his Knees too, or he should never handle [...] long [...] he [...]ad a Nose on's Face, if I were as Mary.

Mary.

No m [...]e he s [...]n't, I [...].

Clapping her Hands.
Iaques.

'S [...]udoi [...] th [...]k you are all mad—I know no more what's beco [...] of th [...] [...], than I know what I did before I was born. And if I must no [...] [...]andle, nor have to do with my own Wife, Mother-in-law, by Conscience that's very [...]ard—Come, I'll tell ye what we'll do; we'll go [...] Cunning Ma [...] — he'll tell us which way 'tis gone pre­sently.

Teres.

Do, do, Mary [...] sin [...] he's so crank about it.

Mary.

With all my heart—to the Cunning Man, faith — He'll ask the Devil, but he'll tell [...]s what's become of 'em — And if I have but this, if eve [...] thou g [...]t [...]st a [...]y thing of▪ Mine in thy hands agen,

Then tell [...] thy Friends once in thy Life
Thou found'st a C [...]ckold [...]isen than his Wife.
Exeunt.
[...]nter Carrasco.
Basil.

How now Friend, thou look'st as if thou wert big with some new Event▪ what's the matter?

Carras [...].

'Dsh [...]art, we have carried the Jest too far, the Knight is dy­ing yonder—swounded twice at his Chamber-door, and is now got to Bed, and has sent for a Notary to make his Will. He's troubled with de­lirious [Page 54] Fits too; for [...] hear him often mutter Dulcinea—but against Sancho he r [...]ils perpetually.

Quit

Nay, this last Miscarriage must needs stick upon his Conscience, if he has any, as long as he lives — Come let's go and comfort the Knight. See Sancho looks wisely now, this frightful News has made him sober.

Exeunt Bas. Quitt▪ and Car.
Carrasc.

To beat his Master—Oh Incorrigible!

Sancho.

Oh—Drink, Drink, Drink—thou Devillish damnable Ene­my, that dost more to a Man's Brains in a Minute, than all the good they can recompense in his Life-time: Thou Iordan of fowl Juice, thou hast undone me — I shall never get into favour agen now—nor into his Will I'm sure, and that's worse—Well, I'll go to him, fall down on my Knees, and if he does not pardon me—rise instantly and hang my self at the Window. Oh Drink, Drink, Drink!

Exit.

SCENE II.

Don Quixot is discover'd in Bed, Basilius, Quitteria, Carrasco, Notary▪ and Servants standing by; Sancho enters cringing, and looking sneak­ingly.
Don Q.

Remove my Pillow —set me up a little—so,

speaks squeak­ing and sickly

draw near, pray Gentlemen— What, Sancho too? Ah—thou ungodly— Vermin.

Sancho cringes, and shakes his Head.
Sancho.

I'll hang my self, Sir—I can do no more.

Basil.

No faith—that's pretty reasonable satisfaction.

Don Q▪

Egh, egh —you wonder, Sir—sat this sudde [...] Alteration; but this is nothing in the hand of Providence—Thousands that are struck so have dy'd e'er this time—Therefore pray wonder not, but e're I go witness my Will — and so farewel —Are ye ready, Friend?

Notary.

Yes, Sir, yes; begin when you please.

Quitter.

Methinks his Sense is very clear now.

Notary.

For a minute or two, Madam —but then he falls to strange Extravagancies —I am only here to humour him.

Don Q.

Well first then — egh, egh—without complementing the Worms about my Carkase; for 'tis so lean and scraggy, that they'll have but poor [...]eeding—I give my chiefest Quality, my Knight Errantry, to the veriest Ideot amongst my Countrymen, that he may have it in his Head to conquer Kingdoms; and that [...]e may be heartily drubb'd about it as [...] have been—Quickly, quickly, set it down, I say.

peevishly.
Notary.

I do, I do, Sir. Now pray observe—Now the Fit begins.

Don Q.

In the next place I bequeath my Valour, which in me was but a worse sort of Itch, to all the Cowards and faint-hearted in the Armies abro [...]d, that they may fight with one another to the end of the VVorld, without knowing why or wherefore.

Carrasc.
[Page 55]

That is indeed—a very mad Leg [...]cy.

Basil.

Satyrical tho if you mind it.

Don Q.

Egh, egh—Set me a little higher —so—my Conscience and one half of my Brains —I give to the French—that—they may learn to be contented with their own Country —and not le [...]p like wild Horses into others Men's Ground, till they are secure their Neighbours are not strong enough to lash'em out agen.

Quitt.

These are I confess, more than common Legaci [...]s.

Basil▪

VVell said again▪ Faith—punc;

Don Q.

To all Statesmen Politicians, Privy-Counsellors, and such like, I bequeath my Integrity of Soul to be an Umpire between their Gain and their Honesty —that when ever they chance to boyl over in 'em, it may cool and allay, like a Wooden-Ladle, when the Fire hath provok'd the Pottage into fury.

Basil.

A Solon—A Solon —I say s [...]ill.

Don Q.

To the great Clergy, and the small —I give my Voice and Lungs, loud and sound as they were at twenty—and a good will to use 'em often —they preach so [...]aintly now▪ as if they were asham'd of their Trades, and the Priest dozes at Church as often as the Parish.

Caras.

Good agen▪ that was close somewhere too.

Don Qix.

To all Knights of the Curtain, Court-followers, and so forth,—I generally bequeath—the Empire that I propos'd to my self to get, to defray their reasonabl [...] Expences, 'till they come to Preferment.

Notary.

This is strange, I [...]xpected he would have chang'd—be­fore now.

Don Qix.

Give me a Tun of Wine there —Bourdeux, Burgundy, Sherry, Shampaign, quick, quick, I grow thirsty.

Starts suddenly into a Rage.
Notary.

Oh, now, Sir, mind him▪

Don Qix.

My Soul's upon a Spit alive—I feel it Roasting — hark, it squeaks like a Lobster; some Wine, I say — ye Scoundrel.

Sancho gives him a Bottle, trembling he drinks.

Hum—hum—your ears once more, my Friends.

Mildly agen.

To all Old Batchelors, Drunkards, and Amoreto's above Sixty Five and upwards—I give—humph—I give—a Whore—and a Bottle,

Throws his Night-Cap at Quitteria, and the Bottle at Basilius.

that they mayn't lose their Character at last, but die as they liv'd in their Calling.

Notary.

I told ye there would be a turn,—see now he's calm again.

Don Qix.

To all Loyal and Wise Citizens that are Married, I soberly bequeath my hollow eyes, and my hearty p [...]tience, that they may never see the sprouting of their own Horns, nor grumble at the payment of the King's Taxes.

Caras.
[Page 56]

That's soberly said enough, I'll swear.

Don. Quix.

You too— that wait here to see my End, must [...]ave some remembrance; and first to you, Sir, that are newly Married, I frankly give my lepid Age, and limber Experience, that by knowing the folly you have committed now, it may prevent ye from Conjugating a second time.

Quit.

How's that, Sir Knight?

Don Quix.

Nay, nay, no noise, no noise, and ye shall all have some­thing — to you, Madam, I give and tran [...]er, and much good may it do ye, my Chastity, to support your own, for a Woman of your Age and Constitution — has not singly enough to keep her honest, I'm sure.

Basil.

Ha, ha, ha — the Knight grows merrier as he draws nearer the bottom.

Don Quix.

To you, Sir, that are a great Scholar— and Book-learn'd, I bequeath my Wit and g [...]ntile Ayr, to help your College Breeding; for search the Universities, and you'll find this Saying true, Th' greatest Clerks are still the awkerd'st Blockheads.

Caras.

Oh, thank ye, Sir, I should be loth to have been left out.

Don Quix.

Lastly, to Sancho there,—

Sancho.

Ay, a small Purse, if you please, poor honest Sancho, Sir.

Don Quix.

Dull, Saucy, Drunken Sancho, I do bequeath two Gallons a day of my Small-beer—to keep him cool from state of reprobat [...]on, during his Life—

Sancho.

Small-beer, Oons, that's small Comfort; well, I'll go get the Rope ready, oh, oh, oh—

Weeps, and goes out.
Don Quix.

This is all, Sirs, there's no great need of Executors, or Overseers—the Will can walk alone, without Leading-string [...]—and now methinks I would fain rest a little.

Basil.

Do, Sir, and to divert your melancholy, and cheer the fading Spirits, we'll treat ye with some Mus [...]cal Performance, you us'd to love it, let 'em begin there.

Here follows the last Entertainment of Singing ond Dancing, which Ended, Don Quixot sleeps.
A Dialogue Sung between Lisis and Alti [...]idora, a Boy and a Girl, suppos'd to be Brother and Sister.
I
Lisis.
AH my Dearest Celide,
T [...] other day I ask'd my Mother,
Why thy Lo [...]ging chang'd m [...]st be,
Why not still lie with thy Brother?
[...]ltis.
[Page 57]
I remember well you did,
And I heard too what she said.
Lisis, Y'are a great Boy grown,
Therefore now must lye alone.
Lisis.
To part us the Custom of Modesty Votes,
Vnless both had Breeches,
Altis.

Or both had long Coats.

II.
Lisis.
Ah! what mischief can there be
In these little tyny Breeches,
That can part me thus from thee;
Sures there's Witchcraft in the sti [...]ches.
Altis.
Or what Devil here resides,
That my Petticoat thus hides;
Mother Laughs a [...] hour or t [...]o,
When I sometimes ask to know.
Lysis.

Why a He,

Altis.

And a She,

Lysis.

May not Bed at our Size,

Altis.

As well as two Girls,

Lysis.

Or as well as two Boys.

III.
Lysis.
I will since I'm kept from you,
Get a Wife as soon as may be,
Altis.
And I'll get a Husband too,
Three times bigger than my Baby:
Lisis.
Father to Mamma tells all,
When in Bed they chatting fall.
Altis.
And when we are Married too,
We as much as they s [...]all know.
Lisis.
[Page]

T [...]e Secret will out,

Altis.

In Comparing of Notes,

Lisis.

What's hid in th [...]se Breeches,

Altis.

Or lies in these Coats.

Chorus of both.
Let's laugh then, and follow our innocent play,
And Kiss, when Mamma is gone out of the way;
For I fear, I fear, we shall cry when we know,
'Tis all that a Brother and Sister may do.
Basil.

He's faln asleep, remove him out there softly, 'twill either ease [...]r end him.

Quit.

'Tis pity he's condemn'd such Extravagance, the man has Ex­ [...]ellent parts.

Caras.

And on all Theams, excepting his Knight Errantry, most read [...] and acute.

Basil.

Come, Sweet, let's take the Air.

Whilst I amongst all great Contentments known,
Looking on thee, am happiest in my own.
Curtain falls.
FINIS.

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