[_Alonzo_ looks with wonder on _Clarinda_.
_Alon._ She's heavenly fair too, and has surpriz'd my Heart, Just as 'twas going to the other's Bosom, And rob'd her at least of one half of it. [Aside.
_Clar._ Madam, I am a Virgin in distress, And by misfortune forc'd to seek a Sanctuary, And humbly beg it here.
_Cleo._ Intreaties were not made for that fair Mouth; Command and be obey'd.
But, Sir, to whom do you belong?
_Alon._ I belong to a very fair Person, But do not know her Name.
_Cleo._ But what are you, pray, Sir?
_Alon._ Madam, a Wanderer; a poor lost thing, That none will own or pity.
_Cleo._ That's sad indeed; but whoe'er you are, since you belong to this fair Maid, you'll find a Welcome every where.
_Alon._ And if I do not, I am cashier'd. [Aside.
Madam, if telling you I am her Brother, Can make me more acceptable, I shall be yet more proud of the Alliance.
_Cleo._ What must I call your Sister, Sir, when I would pay my Duty?
_Alon._ There I am routed again with another hard Question. [Aside.
_Clar._ Madam, my Name's _Clarinda_.
_Alon._ Madam, I'll take my leave, and wish the Heart I leave with you to night, may persuade you to suffer my Visits to morrow, till when I shall do nothing but languish.
_Cleo._ I know not what loss you have suffer'd to night; but since your fair Sister's Presence with us allows it, you need not doubt a welcome.
_Alon._ I humbly thank you, Madam.
[Kisses her Hand, and looks amorously on _Clarinda_.
_Fran._ Madam, pray retire, for Don _Marcel_ is come into the House all bloody, inrag'd against somebody.
_Clar._ I'm troubled at his Hurt, but cannot fear his Rage. Good night, Sir.
[They go out.
_Alon._ They are gone; now had I as much mind to have kist the other's Hand, but that 'twas not a Ceremony due to a Sister-- What the Devil came into my Head, to say she was so? nothing but the natural itch of talking and lying: they are very fair; but what's that to me? _Euphemia_ surpasses both: But a Pox of her terms of Marriage, I'll set that to her Beauty, and then these get the Day, as far as natural Necessity goes: But I'll home and sleep upon't, and yield to what's most powerful in the Morning.
To night these Strangers do my Heart possess, But which the greatest share, I cannot guess: My Fate in Love resembles that in War, When the rich Spoil falls to the common share. [Goes out.
SCENE VII. _The Street._
Enter _Alonzo_, as out of the House, gazing upon it.
_Alon._ Sure I shall know this House again to morrow.
[To him _Lovis_.
_Lov._ I wonder what should be become of _Alonzo_, I do do not like these Night-works of his-- Who's there?
_Alon._ _Lovis!_
_Lov._ _Alonzo?_
_Alon._ The same, where hast thou been?
_Lov._ In search of you this two Hours.
_Alon._ O, I have been taken up with new Adventures, since I saw thee; but prithee what became of thine? for methought it was a likely Woman.
_Lov._ Faith, Sir, I thought I had got a Prize; but a Pox on't, when I came into the Street, e'er she had recover'd Breath to tell me who she was, the Cavalier you rescu'd from _Marcel_, laid claim to her; thank'd me for her Preservation, and vanisht. I hope you had better luck with your Female, whose Face I had not the good fortune to see.
_Alon._ Not so good as I could have wisht, for she stands still on her honourable terms.
_Lov._ Of Matrimony, ha, ha, a very Jilt, I'll warrant her; Come, come, you shall see her no more.
_Alon._ Faith, I fear I must.
_Lov._ To what purpose?
_Alon._ To persuade her to Reason.
_Lov._ That you'll soon do, when she finds you will not bite at t'other Bait.
_Alon._ The worst is, if I see her again, it must be at her Father's House; and so transform'd from Man to Beast-- I must appear like a ridiculous Lover she expects out of _Flanders_.
_Lov._ A very Cheat, a trick to draw thee in: be wise in time.
_Alon._ No, on my Conscience she's in earnest, she told me her Name, and his I am to represent.
_Lov._ What is't, I pray?
_Alon._ _Haunce van Ezel._
_Lov._ Hah! her Name too, I beseech you? [Impatiently.
_Alon._ _Euphemia_: And such a Creature 'tis--
_Lov._ 'Sdeath, my Sister all this while: This has call'd up all that's Spaniard in me, and makes me raging mad.
[Aside.] But do you love her, Sir?
_Alon._ Most desperately, beyond all Sense or Reason.
_Lov._ And could you be content to marry her?
_Alon._ Any thing but that --But thou know'st my ingagement elsewhere; and I have hopes that yet she'll be wise, and yield on more pleasant terms.
_Lov._ I could be angry now; but 'twere unreasonable to blame him for this. [Aside.] Sir, I believe by your Treatment from _Ambrosio_ and _Marcel_, you may come off there easily.