Enter Servant.

Bid my daughter come hither; she'll tell story, my lord.

Serv. She's gone out in a chair, sir.

Ped. Out in a chair!-what do you mean, sir? Serv. As I say, sir ;-and Donna Isabella went in another just before her.

Lop. Isabella!

Serv. And Don Felix followed in another ;-I overheard them all bid the chair go to the Terriero de passa.

Ped. Ha! what business has my daughter there? I am confounded, and know not what to think-within there. [Exit. Lop. My heart misgives me plaguily.-Call me an alguazil-I'll pursue them straight.

SCENE III.

[Exit.

Changes to the Street before Don PEDRO's House. Enter

LISSARDO.

Liss. I wish I could see Flora--methinks I have an hankering kindness after the slut--we must be reconciled.

Enter GIBBY.

Gib. Aw my sal, sir, but Ise blithe to find yee here

now.

Liss. Ha, brother! give me thy hand, boy.

Gib. No se fast, se ye me— e-Brether me ne brethers;

I scorn a leer as muckle as a thiefe, se ye now, and ye must gang intul this house with me, and justifie to Donna Violante's face, that she was the lady that gang'd in here this morn, se ye me, or the deel ha my sal, sir, but ye and I shall be twa folks.

Liss. Justify it to Donna Violante's face, quotha! For what? Sure you don't know what you say.

Gib. Troth de I, sir, as weel as yee de: therefore come along, and make no mair words about it.

Liss. Why, what the devil do you mean? Don't you consider you are in Portugal? Is the fellow mad?

Gib. Fellow! Ise none of yer fellow, sir; and gin the place were hell, I'd gar ye do me justice. [Lissardo going.] Nay, the deel a feet ye gang.

off.

[Lays hold of him, and knocks. Liss. Ha! Don Pedro himself: I wish I were fairly

Enter Don PEDRO.

[Aside.

Ped. How now? What makes you knock so loud? Gib. Gin this be Don Pedro's house, sir, I wou'd speak with Donna Violante, his daughter. Ped. Hal what is it you want with my daughter, pray ?

Gib. An she be your daughter, and lik your honour, command her to come out, and answer for herself now, and either justify or disprove what this chield told me this morn.

Liss. So, here will be a fine piece of work. [Aside. Ped. Why, what did he tell you, ha?

Gib. By my sal, sir, Ise tell you aw the truth. My master got a pratty lady upon the how de call't

-Passa-here at five this morn, and he gar me watch her heam-and in troth I lodg'd her here; and meeting this ill-favour'd thiefe, se ye me, I speered wha she was-and he tald me her name was Donna Violante, Don Pedro de Mendosa's daughter. Ped. Ha! my daughter with a man, abroad at five in the morning! Death, hell, and furies! By Saint Anthony, I'm undone.

Gib. Wounds, sir! ye put yer saint intul bonny

company.

Ped. Who is your master, you dog you? "Ads"heart I shall be trick'd of my daughter and money 6.6 too, that's worst of all."

Gib. You dog you! 'Sblead, sir! don't call names -I won't tell you who my master is, se ye me now. Ped. And who are you, rascal, that know my daughter so well? ha! [Holds up his cane.

Liss. What shall I say, to make him give this Scotch dog a good beating? [Aside.] I know your daughter, signior! Not I; I never saw your daughter in all my life.

Gib. [Knocks him down with his fist.] Deel ha my sil, sar, gin ye get no your carich for that lie now. Ped. What, hoa! where are all my servants?

Enter Colonel, FELIX, ISABELLA, and VIOLANTE. Raise the house in pursuit of my daughter. “Ser. Here she comes, signior."

Col. Hey-day! what's here to do ?

Gib. This is the loonlike tik, an lik your honour, that sent me heam with a lee this morn.

Col. Come, come, 'tis all well, Gibby; let him rise. Ped. I am thunderstruck-and have no power to speak one word.

Fel. This is a day of jubilee, Lissardo; no quarrelling with him this day.

Liss. A pox take his fists!are but a word and a blow.

-Egad, these Britons

Enter Don LOPEZ.

Lop. So, have I found you, daughter? Then you have not hanged yourself yet, I see.

Col. But she is married, my lord.

Lop. Married! Zounds! to whom?

Col. Even to your humble servant, my lord. If

you please to give us your blessing.

[Kneels. Lop. Why, hark ye, mistress, are you really married? Isab. Really so, my lord.

Lop. And who are you, sir?

Col. An honest North-Briton by birth, and a co

lonel by commission, my lord. Lop. An heretic! the devil! [Holding up his hands. Ped. She has played you a slippery trick, indeed, my lord.Well, my girl, thou hast been to see thy friend married-next week thou shalt have a better husband, my dear. [To Violante. Fel. Next week is a little too soon, sir; I hope to live longer than that.

Ped. What do you mean, sir? You have not made a rib of my daughter too, have you?

Vio. Indeed but he has, sir: I know not how, but he took me in an unguarded minute-when my thoughts were not over-strong for a nunnery, fa

ther.

Lop. Your daughter has play'd you a slippery trick too, signior.

Ped. But your son shall never be the better for't, my lord; her twenty thousand pounds was left on certain conditions, and I'll not part with a shilling.

Lop. But we have a certain thing, call'd law, shall make you do justice, sir.

Ped. Well, we'll try that my lord, much good may it do you with your daughter-in-law.

Lop. I wish you much joy of your rib.

Enter FREDERICK.

[Exit. [Exit.

Fel. Frederick, welcome!--I sent for thee to be partaker of my happiness, and pray give me leave to introduce you to the cause of it.

Fred. Your messenger has told me all, and I sincerely share in all your happiness.

Col. To the right about, Frederick, wish thy friend joy.

Fred. I do with all my soul-and, madam, I congratulate your deliverance.--Your suspicions are clear'd now, I hope, Felix ?

Fel. They are, and I heartily ask the colonel pardon, and wish him happy with my sister; for love