ompion,
Thou kiss my Lady? thou scour her Chamber-pot:
Thou have a Maiden-head? a mottly Coat,
You great blind fool, farewel and be hang'd to ye,
Lose no time Lady.

_Arn_. Pray take your pleasure Sir,
And so we'l take our leaves.

_Zen_. We are determined,
Dye, before yield.

_Arn_. Honour, and a fair grave.

_Zen_. Before a lustful Bed, so for our fortunes.

_Rut_. _Du cat awhee_, good Count, cry, prethee cry,
O what a wench hast thou lost! cry you great booby. [_Exe_.

_Enter_ Charino.

_Clod_. And is she gone then, am I dishonoured thus,
Cozened and baffl'd? my Guard there, no man answer?
My Guard I say, sirrah you knew of this plot;
Where are my Guard? I'le have your life you villain,
You politick old Thief.

_Char_. Heaven send her far enough,

_Enter Guard_.

And let me pay the ransom.

_Guard_. Did your honour call us?

_Clod_. Post every way, and presently recover
The two strange Gentlemen, and the fair Lady.

_Guard_. This day was Married Sir?

_Clod_. The same.

_Guard_. We saw 'em.
Making with all main speed to th' Port.

_Clod_. Away villains. [_Exit Guard_.
Recover her, or I shall dye; deal truly,
Didst not thou know?

_Char_. By all that's good I did not.
If your honour mean their flight, to say I grieve for that,
Will be to lye; you may handle me as you please.

_Clod_. Be sure, with all the cruelty, with all the rigor,
For thou hast rob'd me villain of a treasure.

_Enter Guard_.

How now?

_Guard_. They're all aboard, a Bark rode ready for 'em,
And now are under Sail, and past recovery.

_Clod_. Rig me a Ship with all the speed that may be,
I will not lose her: thou her most false Father,
Shalt go along; and if I miss her, hear me,
A whole day will I study to destroy thee.

_Char_. I shall be joyful of it; and so you'l find me.

[_Exeunt omnes_.

_Actus Secundus. Scena Prima_.

_Enter_ Manuel du Sosa, _and_ Guiomar.

_Man_. I Hear and see too much of him, and that
Compels me Madam, though unwillingly,
To wish I had no Uncles part in him,
And much I fear, the comfort of a Son
You will not long enjoy.

_Gui_. 'Tis not my fault,
And therefore from his guilt my innocence
Cannot be tainted, since his Fathers death,
(Peace to his soul) a Mothers prayers and care
Were never wanting, in his education.
His Child-hood I pass o're, as being brought up
Under my wing; and growing ripe for study,
I overcame the tenderness, and joy
I had to look up