'tis some Friend of Seignior _Don
Diego_'s, I warrant. Sir, I suppose you wou'd speak with Seignior
_Barbinetto_--

_Marpl._ Hy-day! what the Devil does he say now!--Sir, I don't
understand you.

Sir _Jeal._ Don't you understand _Spanish_, Sir?

_Marpl._ Not I indeed, Sir.

Sir _Jeal._ I thought you had known Seignior _Barbinetto_.

_Marpl._ Not I, upon my word, Sir.

Sir _Jeal._ What then you'd speak with his Friend, the _English_
Merchant, Mr. _Meanwell_.

_Marpl._ Neither, Sir; not I.

Sir _Jeal._ Why who are you then, Sir? and what do you want?
(_In an angry Tone._

_Marpl._ Nay, nothing at all, not I, Sir. Pox on him! I wish I were out,
he begins to exalt his Voice, I shall be beaten agen.

Sir _Jeal._ Nothing at all, Sir! Why then what Business have you in my
House? ha?

_Serv._ You said you wanted a Gentleman in _Spanish_ Habit.

_Marpl._ Why ay, but his Name is neither _Barbinetto_ nor _Meanwell_.

Sir _Jeal._ What is his Name then, Sirrah, ha? Now I look at you agen, I
believe you are the Rogue threaten'd me with half a Dozen
_Mirmidons_--Speak, Sir, who is it you look for? or, or--

_Marpl._ A terrible old Dog!--Why, Sir, only an honest young Fellow of
my Acquaintance--I thought that here might be a Ball, and that he might
have been here in a Masquerade; 'tis _Charles_, Sir _Francis Gripe_'s
Son, because I know he us'd to come hither sometimes.

Sir _Jeal._ Did he so?--Not that I know of, I'm sure. Pray Heaven that
this be Don _Diego_--If I shou'd be trick'd now--Ha! my Heart misgives
me plaguily--within there! stop the Marriage--Run, Sirrah, call all my
Servants! I'll be satisfy'd that this is Seignior _Pedro_'s Son e're he
has my Daughter.

_Marpl._ Ha, Sir _George_, what have I done now ?

_Enter Sir _George_ with a drawn Sword between the Scenes._

Sir _Geo._ Ha! _Marplot_, here--Oh the unlucky Dog--what's the matter,
Sir _Jealous?_

Sir _Jeal._ Nay, I don't know the matter, Mr._Meanwell_.

_Marpl._ Upon my Soul, Sir _George_--
(_Going up to Sir _Geo.__

Sir _Jeal._ Nay then, I'm betray'd, ruin'd, undone: Thieves, Traytors,
Rogues! (_Offers to go in._) Stop the Marriage, I say--

Sir _Geo._ I say, go on Mr._Tackum_--Nay, no Ent'ring here, I guard this
Passage, old Gentleman; the Act and Deed were both your own, and I'll
see 'em sign'd, or die for't.

_Enter Servants._

Sir _Jeal._ A pox on the Act and Deed!--Fall on, knock him down.

Sir _Geo._ Ay, come on, Sc