ve taken the habit, which was never my intention; and
consequently, I married her without your knowledge, that it might not
be in your power to prevent it.

_Elv._ You see, brother, I had a natural affection to you.

_Lor._ What a delicious harlot have I lost! Now, pox upon me, for
being so near a-kin to thee!

_Elv._ However, we are both beholden to friar Dominick; the church is
an indulgent mother, she never fails to do her part.

_Dom._ Heavens! what will become of me?

_Gom._ Why, you are not like to trouble heaven; those fat guts were
never made for mounting.

_Lor._ I shall make bold to disburden him of my hundred pistoles, to
make him the lighter for his journey: indeed, 'tis partly out of
conscience, that I may not be accessory to his breaking his vow of
poverty.

_Alph._ I have no secular power to reward the pains you have taken
with my daughter; but I shall do it by proxy, friar: your bishop's my
friend, and is too honest to let such as you infect a cloister.

_Gom._ Ay, do, father-in-law, let him be stript of his habit, and
disordered.--I would fain see him walk in querpo, like a cased rabbit,
without his holy fur upon his back, that the world may once behold the
inside of a friar.

_Dom._ Farewell, kind gentlemen; I give you all my blessing before I
go.--May your sisters, wives, and daughters, be so naturally lewd,
that they may have no occasion for a devil to tempt, or a friar to
pimp for them. [_Exeunt, with a rabble pushing him._

_Enter_ TORRISMOND, LEONORA, BERTRAN, RAYMOND, TERESA, &c.

_Tor._ He lives! he lives! my royal father lives!
Let every one partake the general joy.
Some angel with a golden trumpet sound,
King Sancho lives! and let the echoing skies
From pole to pole resound, king Sancho lives!--
Bertran, oh! no more my foe, but brother;
One act like this blots out a thousand crimes.

_Bert._ Bad men, when 'tis their interest, may do good.
I must confess, I counselled Sancho's murder;
And urged the queen by specious arguments:
But, still suspecting that her love was changed,
I spread abroad the rumour of his death,
To sound the very soul of her designs.
The event, you know, was answering to my fears;
She threw the odium of the fact on me,
And publicly avowed her love to you.

_Raym._ Heaven guided all, to save the innocent.

_Bert._ I plead no merit, but a bare forgiveness.

_Tor._ Not only that, but favour. Sancho's life,
Whether by virtue or design