mother fhe has all that: I have nothing to com-
fort myself with but Antonio's ftiff beard; and
that alone, for a woman of my years, is but a
forry kind of entertainment. I wonder why these
old fumbling fellows fhould trouble themselves fo
much, only to trouble us more. They can do
nothing, but put us in mind of our graves. Well,
I'll no more on't; for to be frighted with death
and damnation, both at once, is a little too hard.
I do here vow I'll live for ever chafte, or find out
fome handsome young fellow I can love; I think
that's the better; [Mother looks out at the window.
Moth. Come up, Cons, the fiddles are here.
2 Con. I come----[Mother goes from the window.
Í must be gone, tho' whither I cannot tell; these
fiddlers, and her difcreet companions will quickly
make an end of all she has stolen, and then for
goo new pieces fell me to another old fellow. She
has taken care not to leave me a farthing; yet I
am fo, better than under her conduct: 'twill be at
worst but begging for my life.

And ftarving were to me an easier fate,
Than to be forc'd to live with one I hate.

[Goes up to her mother.

VOL. I.

P

SCENE

SCENE II.

Enter Don John.

John. It will not out of my head, but that Don Frederick has fent away this wench, for all he carries it fo gravely; yet methinks he should be honester than fo: but thefe grave men are never touch'd upon fuch occafions. Mark it when you will, and you'll find a grave man, especially if he pretend to be a precife man, will do you forty things without remorfe, that would ftartle one of us mad fellows to think of: because they are familiar with heaven in their prayers, they think they may be bold with it in any thing: now we, that are not fo well acquainted, bear greater reve[Mufick plays above. What's here, mufick and women? would I had one of em. [One of 'em looks out of the window. That's a whore; I know her by her smile. O'my confcience, take a woman masked and hooded; nay, cover'd all o'er, fo that you cannot fee one bit of her, and at twelve fcore yards diftance, if the be a whore, as ten to one she is, I fhall know it certainly: I have an instinct within me never fails. [Another looks out.

rence.

Ah rogue! fhe's right too, I'm fure on't.

Mothe

Moth. above. Come, come, let's dance in t'other room, 'tis a great deal better.

John. Say you fo? what now if I should go up and dance too? It is a tavern, pox o'this bufinefs; I'll in, I am refolved, and try my own for tune; 'tis hard luck if I don't get one of 'em.

As he goes to the door, 2d Conftantia enters. See here's one bolted already: fair lady, whither fo faft?

2 Con. I don't know, Sir.

John. May I have the honour to wait upon you? 2 Con. Yes, if you pleafe, Sir.

John, Whither?

z Con. I tell you I don't know.

John. She's very quick: would I might be fo happy as to know you, lady.

2 Con. I dare not let you fee my face, Sir. John. Why?

2 Con. For fear you should not like it, and then leave me; for to tell you true, I have at this prefent very great need of you.

24

John. If thou haft half so much need of me, as I have of thee, lady, I'll be content to be hang'd tho'.

2 Con. It's a proper handfome fellow this: if

he'd but love me now, I would never feek out farther. Sir, I am young, and unexperienc'd in the world.

John. Nay, if thou art young, it's no great matter what thy face is.

2 Con. Perhaps this freedom in me may seem ftrange; but, Sir, in short, I'm forc'd to fly from one I hate: if I fhould meet him, will you here promise he shall not take me from you?

John. Yes, that I will, before I see your face, your fhape has charm'd me enough for that already; if any one takes you from me, lady, I'll give him leave to take from me too-----(I was agoing to name 'em) certain things of mine, that I would not lofe, now I have you in my arms, for all the gems in Christendom.

2 Con. For heaven's fake then conduct me to fome place, where I may be secured a while from the fight of any one whatfoever.

John. By all the hopes I have to find thy face as lovely as thy shape, I will.

2 Con. Well, Sir, I believe you; for you have an honeft look.

John. 'Slid I am afraid, Don Frederick has been

giving her a character of me too. Come, pray

unmafk.

2 Con. Then turn away your face; for I'm refolv'd you fhall not fee a bit of mine, till I have fet it in order, and then----

John. What?

2 Con. I'll ftrike you dead.

John. A mettled whore, I warrant her: come, if she be now young, and have but a nofe on her face, she'll be as good as her word. I'm e'en panting for breath already.

2 Con. Now ftand your ground if you dare.

John. By this light a rare creature! ten thoufand times handfomer than her we feek for! this can be fure no common one; pray heaven fhe be not a whore.

2 Con. Well, Sir, what fay you now?

John. Nothing, I'm fo amaz'd, I am not able to speak. I'd best fall too presently, though it be in the street, for fear of lofing time: pr'ythee, my dear sweet creature, go with me into that corner, that thou and I may talk a little in private.

2 Con. No, Sir, no private dealing, I beseech

you.

John. 'Sheart, what shall I do? I'm out of my