The Stolen Heiress Part 5

[_Aside._

_Lar._ Ay, this is he, this is he; what Don _Sancho_'s Son?

_Fran._ The _Nominals_, the _Thomists_, and all the Sects of old and modern School-men, do oblige me to pay to that Gentleman filial Duty.

_Lar._ I am glad to hear it with all my Heart, I know the other must be an Imposter, but I'm resolv'd to apprehend and punish him: Sir, you are welcome; I guess your Business, my Daughter is yours.

_Fran._ My Business is about Propagation, as the civil Lawyers do learnedly paraphrase, is of Concomitance, or Cohabitation, or what you please to term it.

_Lar._ How am I blest that this wonderful Scholar shall be match'd into my Family----Daughter, what say you now, here's a Husband for you now, here's a Husband for you.

_Lav._ Pray Heaven you hold but in the Mind 'till you have made him such. [_Aside._

_Lar._ Does he not speak like an Oracle? 'egad I'll maintain't, he shall put down ten Universities and Inns of Court in twenty Syllables----Pray, Sir, speak learnedly to my Girl, for, tho' I say it, she has a good Capacity.

_Fran._ Most rubicund, stilliferous, splendant Lady, the occular Faculties by which the beams of Love are darted into every Soul, or human Essence, have convey'd into my Breast the l.u.s.tre of your Beauty; and I can admire no other Object; therefore pardon me, Sir, if I only express myself in Terms Scholastic, and in Metaphors, my Phrase to her.

[_Turning to_ Larich.

_Lar._ Learned, learned, young Man, how happy am I in thee?

_Lav._ Now do I long to see my Father's Back turn'd, that he might change his learned non-sense, and talk more modern, to talk more wise; you may spare your Rhetoric, Sir, unless you come down to my Understanding; but I know just enough of your Meaning, to tell you it does not suit with my Inclination.

_Lar._ What don't suit with your Inclination, ha, forsooth?

_Lav._ Marriage, Sir.

_Lar._ 'Tis false, hussy, you have an Inclination, and you shall have an Inclination; not an Inclination, quoth the Baggage: Sir, I say she's yours, come into the next Room, and I'll have the Settlement drawn immediately, and you shall be married to Night. Not an Inclination!

[_Exit._

ACT III. SCENE _the Street_.

_Enter_ Eugenio.

_Eug._ Thus in Disguise I shall discover all, And find the Cause of my reported Death, Which does so much amaze me.

A Month ago my Father sent me Word, that I shou'd hasten my Journey to _Palermo_; and I met the Post upon the Road, that gave me a Letter, wherein he strictly charges me not to come this three Months: No sooner had I enter'd the Town, but I met the Rumour of my Death, which still surpris'd me more; but this Letter shall help me to the Knowledge of the Truth. [_Shews a Letter, goes to the Door and knocks._

_Enter_ Rosco.

_Rosc._ Who'd you speak with Friend?

_Eug._ With the Lord _Gravello_, if you please, Sir.

_Ros._ Marry gap, and can't I serve your Turn? Nothing but my Lord, good lack! I guess he knows you not; pray what's your Business? What's your Name? From whence come you? What do ye want? I believe you are of no such Extraction, that you shou'd be introduc'd to my Lord; let me be judge, whether your Affair requires his Lordship's Ear, else, Friend, I shall bring you but a scurvy Answer; either he's busy, or a-sleep, or gone abroad, any of these are sufficient for your Quality, I suppose.

_Eug._ Thus great Men always are abus'd, because there's no Access, but through such Knaves as thee? then I'll return my Message back unto his Son, and bid him employ a finer Fellow, if he expects that he should see his Father. [_Going._

_Ros._ Ha! his Son! stay, Sir, and forgive me; here comes my Lord.

_Enter Count_ Gravello, Rosco _goes and whispers him_.

_Grav._ Wou'd you ought with me, Friend?

_Eug._ If you be the Lord _Gravello_.

_Grav._ The same.

_Eug._ I came from _Rome_, my Lord; laden, I hope, with happy Tidings, and after the sad Report I have met with, I dare say, welcome; your Son _Eugenio_ lives, and with his Duty, recommends this Letter to your Lordship's Perusal.

_Grav._ How! does my Boy live? Oh! I'm overjoy'd, for I thought him dead. _Rosco_, reward him for his Tidings, reward him largely, _Rosco_.

_Ros._ There's a Pistole for you, eat like an Emperor, d'ye hear, till that be out.

_Grav._ He writes me Word that you are a Gentleman fallen to Decay, and begs that I would take you into my Service: I have no Place vacant at present, but the first that falls worth your Acceptance, shall be yours; in the mean Time command my House. [_I must not let him suspect I knew_ Eugenio _was alive_] the happy News that thou hast brought me, has rais'd me from the Vale of Death; but tell me, Friend, hast thou reveal'd this to any in _Palermo_, but myself?

_Eug._ To none. For tho' I met the tragic Story in every Street through which I pa.s.s'd, still I conceal'd the Truth, intending your Lordship's Ear should first receive it.

_Grav._ Thou hast done exceeding well; _Rosco_, give him a double Reward, a double Welcome; I have some private Reasons to myself, that it should still be kept a Secret, which if thou'rt faithful, thou in Time shalt know.

_Eug._ Fear not, my Lord, I am no Blab; I ever thought a slippery Tongue Mankind's Shame. What can this mean? [_Aside._

_Ros._ This is a notable Fellow.

_Grav. Rosco_, bid him welcome; tell him my House is his, bid him be free.

_Ros._ As long as you have Occasion for him----Sir, I am your most obedient, most devoted, and thrice humble Serviteur; command the Pantry, Cellar, Maids, Chambers----for in these I rule, and these are at your Service, Sir. [_Bowing low._

_Eug._ I thank you my quondam Friend; but a quiet Residence in my Lord's House, the Time I stay, satisfies my Desires.

_Ros._ A worthy Man, upon my Faith. Oh! my Lord, here comes the Bridegroom, I know by this Fellow's being out of Breath.

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ My Lord Count _Pirro_ so fine, so brisk, so ugly.

_Grav._ How, how, Sirrah, ugly?

_Serv._ So handsome, I mean, Sir; Pox on't, how came my Head to run so of Ugliness?

_Ros._ Seeing the Count, I warrant thee _Jack_.

_Grav._ Be gone, Varlet, and attend his coming. [_Exeunt._

_Eug._ Ha! Count _Pirro_, the Bridegroom--and, my Life a Secret; I begin to find the Cause. [_Aside._