l; Sir, with your permission, I am resolved whether you
will or no, to give the Ladies some divertisement,--bid 'em come in;
nay, Sir, you stir not. [Ex. Page.
'Tis for your delight, Sir, I do't; for, Sir, you must understand, a
Man, if he have any thing in him, Sir, of Honour, for the case, Sir,
lies thus, 'tis not the business of an Army to droll upon an
Enemy--truth is, every man loves a whole skin;--but 'twas the fault of
the best Statesmen in Christendom to be loose in the hilts,--you
conceive me.

_Fran_. Very well, my Lord, I'll swear he's a rare spoken man;--why,
what a Son-in-law shall I have? I have a little business, my Lord, but
I'll wait on you presently.
[Going out.

_Guil_. Sir, there is nothing like your true jest; a thing once well
done, is twice done, and I am the happiest Man in the World in your
Alliance; for, Sir, a Nobleman if he have any tolerable parts,--is a
thing much above the Vulgar;--oh,--here comes the Dancers.

_Enter Dancers_.

Come, sit down by me.

_Fran_. 'Tis my duty to stand, my Lord.

_Guil_. Nay, you shall sit.

[They dance.

_Enter_ Antonio.

_Ant_. Good day, Sir, I hope you will not chide my tardiness, I have a
little overslept my self, and am ashamed to see my lovely Bride, and all
this worthy Company attend.
--But you, fair Creature-- [_To_ Isabella.

_Isa_. No marrying to day, Sir.

_Fran_. No, Sir, no marrying to day.

_Ant_. How, do I dream, or hear this from _Francisco_?

_Guil_. How now, Fellow, what art thou?

_Ant_. The Husband of that proud disdainful Woman.

_Guil_. Another word like that--and thou art--

_Ant_. What, Sir?

_Fran_. Oh, hold, hold, my Lord! _Antonio_, I must tell you, you're
uncivil.

_Guil_. Dost know, dull Mortal, that I am a Lord, And _Isabella_ my
adopted Lady.

_Ant_. I beg your pardon, Sir, if it be so, poor Mortals can but grieve
in silence.

_Guil_. Alas, poor Mortal!

_Ant_. But, for you, _Francisco_.

_Fran_. Ah, dear _Antonio_, I vow and swear I cannot chuse but weep to
lose thee; but my Daughter was born for a Lady, and none can help
their destiny.

_Ant_. And is it possible thou canst use me thus? [_To_ Isa.

_Isa_. Take away that little Fellow; in pity of your life, I deign to
bid you withdraw and be safe.

_Guil_. D'ye hear, hah?--this Lady has beg'd your life.

_Ant_. Beg'd my Life!

_Guil_. Vile Wretch, dar'st thou retort?