THE SPANISH ROGUE.
As it was ACTED BY HIS Majesties Servants.
Written by THO: DƲFFETT.
LONDON, Printed for William Cademan at the Pope's Head in the Lower Walk in the New Exchange in the Strand. M.DC.LXXIV.
TO MADAM ELLEN GƲYN.
IT is not, because you were pleas'd to be very kind to this Play, when it was acted; for I know not whether you ever honour'd it with your Presence: Nor is it to return you a troublesome acknowledgment for Favours; for I am sure you do not know me: Nor the hope of obliging you to my future advantage; for the utmost return I expect is your pardon; None of these has made me guilty of this presumption. But since a Play in print, without an Epistle Dedicatory, is now like a Modish Gallant without a Mistriss, or a Papist without [Page] a tutelar Saint, I resolv'd to obey Custom in making a Dedication, and my own free inclination in the choice of your Excellent Self, at whose Feet I humbly lay this; wherein, though my rash Boldness may be censur'd, I'm sure my Prudence will be applauded: For if this Censorious Age will submit to the most perfect Beauty, or the greatest Goodness in the World, under your Protection it will be safe.—Nature almost overcome by Art, has in your Self rally'd all her scatter'd Forces, and on your charming Brow, sits smiling at the slavish toyls which yours and her envious Foes endure; striving in vain with the fading weak supplies of Art, to rival your Beauties; which are ever the same, and alwayes incomparable. Notwithstanding this great Truth is celebrated by All that know you; You still are Mistriss of so much obliging Affability, so free from sullen Pride, and affected Stateliness, the usual Attendants of extraordinary Felicity; not contented to be safe in the barren praise of doing no ill, but so readily and so frequently doing good, as if it were not your Nature, but your Business; that, next to your Beauty, these Virtues are the greatest [Page] Miracle of the Age. If I am the first that has taken the boldness to tell you this, in Print, 'tis because I am more ambitious than all others, to be known by the Title of,
The Persons Names.
- Don Fenise—Mr. Harris.
- Don Alonzo—Mr. Lyddal.
- Don Manuel—Mr. Watson.
- Larasco—Mr. Powell.
- Mingo—Mr. Cash.
- Sanchez—Mr. Griffin.
- Alcinda—Mrs. Boutell.
- Rosella—Mrs. Uphill.
- Teresa—Mrs. Corye.
- Leonella—Mrs. Kneppe.
- Neighbours, &c.
PROLOGUE
THE Spanish Rogue.
ACT I.
Scene 1.
Scene 2.
If she can hate you, to your self be kind.
Villain be gone! thy swiftest fears out-flie —
Your Sword would blush to wear so base a Die.
Y'are banish'd from her presence, and her brest.
Nothing to stop his Throat? no hearty Curse?
The Blood-hounds up, no cunning can relieves.
Curse on his yelping Jaws! what shall we do?
Here, here! quickly Sir, step in here —
Among the Women you can domineer —
Kill me Sir! Kill me! rid me of my fear.
Her strict Commands I dare not disobey.
Sirrah! Observe her Orders —
More Catterwouling yet! Hell stop her breath!
Another Murmur shall foretel thy death.
I'll fight the proudest he that wears a head.
Now must I go to Pot! — how my bones ake!—
Oh! Curse on your valour! —
Murther! murther! murther!
Oh dismal note!
What noise was that? what's the disturbance here?
Rise, and be free —
Thou know'st my heart, let Fenise be our Guide —
Spread all your Sails, you have the Wind and Tide.
What Noise is that?
What will Don Fenise do? persuade him in.
Now does my storm of misery begin.
Sweet Master! Dear Master!
Once more farewel!
Here be the Rogues, Now Neighbours kill and slay —
How's this? Don Fenise! sure it cannot be —
Scene 3.
What didst thou find the place?
Rack me not with these delayes!
Most true —
Ah Sir! I am a Rogue, but pray forgive —
ACT II.
Scene 1.
Are you sure 'twas Don Fenise? Think agen —
Poh! think; I know him from a Thousand men.
You may mistake.
Yes you are; foolish and impertinent—
Ay, ay, these are your old wheedling Tricks —
My dear, dear Don! I'll dye to do thee good.
Scene 2.
He's safely gone, but all I fear is known —
Sure I heard their Swords; had he no wounds?
None —
Henceforth we never meet.
Once more I must that hopeless suit renew.
So brave a choice your Reason may approve.
Reason was ne'r the messenger of Love.
Think, think Alcinda! you may Love too late—
My humor's fix'd above the pow'r of Fate.
From thence what can arise?
In their Concealment all our safety lies.
Can that contribute ought to hide our Crimes?
I like thy counsel well — but —
Let's in and think upon't —
Receive no answer, nor no message hear.
Will you my Rival grow?
Ne'r did a Sister love a Brother so.
Scene 3.
What means this saucy haste? what makes you run?
Villain! what ayles the fellow? —
Recall your sense, and tell me what you mean.
To seize me! for what? —
Is the man dead? —
Is't thus you meet your Friend?
'Twas time to look about.
Your old dissembling Tricks —
O fie on you men! for y'are all false —
Since here we parted not, this can't be true.
Well, I'll consider on't —
See thee I must, or else I cannot live —
No way to cheat this Tyrant? — no device!
ACT III.
Scene 1.
Good Signior hold!
Mortal! Thou say'st the Truth, come buss me now —
Do't; I command thee —
Ah Madam Captain! my first Fault forgive —
That too shall be at Night.
Lest you are kick'd to Men give no affront;
Ah! you are merciful! indeed I wo'nt.
Thy word shall serve —
Poh! where's your Master? cease this idle Talk.
Thy heart lies in thy guts, Sirrah march on —
Scene 2.
Never! —
What is't your active spirit would advise?
I have no Rival, but her just disdain.
If it be just, you ought not to complain.
There I'm lost —
Read there —
O I cannot —
Well, I submit, but if your project fail —
Assure thy self that nothing can prevail.
Say on —
Strange madness! — Heavens! what do you intend —
To spight my fortune, are not you my friend?
I'll seale it with my dearest blood.
O death is short, and after there's no pain;
Scene 3.
O wonderful how strongly is he made?
Well we are blest to meet this noble blade.
I! I! I! —
Larasco! Victoria! Larasco!
Sirrah! what saucy noise is this I hear?
Only a little harmeless musick Sir —
Where hast thou liv'd?
De Valiza was't?
The same; I serv'd him 'till his latest breath.
Why, he was shiprack'd; how did'st thou 'scape death?
ACT IV.
Scene 1.
No melancholy grove, — no hollow tree —
Or traytors thoughts —
Shall 'scape our peirceing sight.
I'll find Calista —
And Laurina I —
Wee'll in a bed or grave together lie.
Scene 2.
Good Sir spare my blushes: What is my crime?
No parents could possess such flinty minds.
O Heavens! would he not relieve the child?
Help! help! help!
Cross luck! speak what art thou?
It is the same; dear mischief help me now!
Whether would'st go? what do'st seek? what do'st fear?
But art thou a very Eunuch indeed?
As I tell true, so may you help my need.
Scene 3.
A ravisher! O strange and horrid Crime!
Sing it Leonella —
Madam! here's a messenger from Don Fenise.
Pray hear me Sir! —
'Slife what ailes you Madam?
What does your message mean?
As I would take aguift from Heaven sent.
Mingo! why this disguise? what mak'st thou here?
I'll think upon't; there's earnest of my love.
Time has not chang'd thee, thou art Mingo still.
Mercy, sweet Devil mercy! pity me!
Y'are merciful, take all that I can give.
Then I'm thy friend, and Mingo.
Th'art my good Angel, take thy own desire.
No! no! use thy mind —
Dear Eunuch! this has been a tedious day.
O hold! you prophesie your death I fear.
Death! prythee let's go in — and meet it there.
I'll doe't! thou best of men!
A powerful charm which he can ne'r withstand.
I'll observe, adieu! —
Scene 4.
What suddain change is this?
Is this the Form you love?
Who is it then? There was no other by.
Pray Heav'n his Tyranny may now decay.
In me it shall, I'll die or win the day.
But Fire that's slowly rais'd, as late decayes.
Powder that swiftly fires, as soon does wast.
Madam! one charge from you, would make her yield.
Remember Sister! you compel my Love.
The Earth shall vanish, e're my Faith remove.
This place is most unfit for such dispute.
Scene 5.
Excellent Mingo! —
Wit prosper thee, brave Rogue!
Here comes my Midnights Ghost—
But is it true?
Just now we parted, as I came to you.
Leonella too, bless me!
The Woman you may pardon if you will.
To rob me of thy love, no! both I'll kill.
My dear Infanta!
I'll do't! and meet thee in the Lodge, farewell!
Scene 6.
The Fish is caught, I must allow him line.
Hell upon Earth! I'll spoil their damn'd design.
Now I'll upon him while he looks this way—
What, can you run so well? I'll make you stay.
Fear me not. I'll do the deed.
There's my bus'ness, if that inform you so.
ACT V.
Scene 1.
'Tis done, my Dear! But whither shall we go?
Scene 2.
Where! where! where!
Scene 3.
Thy strange beginning makes me fear the end.
Pray think again
I've thought too much, away!—
Thou wilt repent thy rashness e'r 'tis day.
Scene 4.
Scene 5.
In your success my pains rewarded are.
O have I found thee Traytor!
O my curst fortune—Truth is ever crost.
Then we are both abus'd —
To Signior Alonzo.
Ha! a Pistol! I fear we are too late.
Scene 6.
Dear Madam! O Heav'ns! hear what I can say —
Oh a Ghost! a Ghost away!—
No Ghost! I am no Ghost! good Neighbors stay—
Scene 7.
Good Mingo! lead the way; how my heart beats?
Hell! they have forc'd the dore—
If Fate frown now, I'll never trust it more.
That noise has made me fear we are undone.
Yet, through this other dore we may be gone.
Then to my last shift—
Not so well met as you imagine yet.
If you but stir a foot, they both shall dye.
Inhuman Dog!
That's well advis'd —
See what thou doest, thou bloody Devil! do!
Seal up your lips, or I'll begin with you.
Thou cruel Rogue! now we'll command thy fate.
Ano [...]her Storm begins, ere this is gone.
If 'tis your Father, we are yet undone.
For pity's sake let's in, who ere you be.
That's my Rascal's voice.
Ay Sir! 'tis me! 'tis me!
What does this folly mean?
Hold! good Sir hold! I am your very Man.
There's the Original of all this Rout.
O my dear Father! —
Let him not use my Father so —
Madam! he's a Villain, and your mortal Foe.
Mingo speak out, what is it thou canst say?
Damn'd Lyes! mischievous Lyes! lead him away—
Nay, more than think, we know that they were drown'd.
Thou seek'st delayes in Story fetch'd so far.
O that we could believe thee —
What say you?
Mercy! mercy Gentlemen! 'tis too true.
Which is my Sister? which must be my Bride?
Methinks I fear him still.
You shall forgive him—
No other wayes to save their lives? pray try.
'Tis he! 'tis he! good Sanchez pardon me.
Hard-hearted Mingo! wouldst thou murther me?
EPILOGUE
ERRATA.
PAge 4. line 23. read Fenise for Mingo: p. 14. l. 24. r. and for are: p. 16. l. 15. r. Her Sword—p. 24. l. 6. r. liv'd here—p. 29. l. 11. r. or for od: p. 33. l. 11. r. so basely—for so bravely —p. 41. l. 3. r. talk for take: l. 33. r. Sot for Scot: p. 43. l. 1. r. a for her: p. 45. l. 24. r. thousand—Curses: l. 31. r. learn for lrarn: p. 48. l. 14. r. darted for darte: p. 57. l. 12. r. did for din: p. 59. l. 1. r. ne'r for nor.