_Guil_. For once you have prevail'd.
_Enter_ Francisco.
_Fran_. Whither away?
_Isa_. Only to consummate a little, pray keep your distance.
[_She pulls off his hat_.
_Fran_. Consummate!
_Isa_. Ay, Sir, that is to make me an absolute Viscountess--we cannot stay--farewel.
[Guiliom _leads her out_.
_Fran_. Hum--this _Turkey_ Air has a notable faculty, where the Women are all plaguy kind.
_Enter_ Carlos _and_ Julia.
_Car_. By Heav'n, each Moment makes me more your Slave.
_Fran_. The Business is done.
_Jul_. My Husband! [_Aside_.
_Car_. And all this constant love to old _Francisco_ has but engaged me more.
_Fran_. Ha, Love to me? [_Aside_.
_Jul_. Sir, if this Virtue be but real in you, how happy I shou'd be; but you'll relapse again, and tempt my virtue, which if you do--
_Fran_. I'll warrant she wou'd kill herself. [_Aside_.
_Jul_. I should be sure to yield. [_In a soft tone to him_.
_Car_. No, thou hast made an absolute Conquest o'er me--and if that Beauty tempt me every hour, I shall still be the same I was the last.
_Fran_. Pray Heaven he be _John_.
_Enter First_ Turk.
1st _Turk_. Most mighty Emperor, a Messenger from _Cadiz_ has Letters for your Highness.
_Car_. Conduct him in; in this retreat of ours we use no State.
_Enter_ Guzman, _as himself, gives_ Carlos _Letters_.
_Guz_. Don _Carlos_, Governor of _Cadiz_, greets your Highness.
_Carlos_ reads.
High and Mighty,
_For seven_ Christian _Slaves, taken lately by a Galley of yours, we offer you twice the number of_ Mahometans _taken from you by us.
--If this suffice not,--propose your Ransoms, and they shall be paid by Don_ Carlos, _Governor of_ Cadiz.
--Know you this _Carlos_ offers so fair for you?
_Fran_. Most potent Lord, I do, and wonder at the Compliment,--and yet I am not jealous--I have so overacted the complaisant Husband, that I shall never fall into the other Extreme again.
_Car_. Go, let the Christian Governor understand his Request is granted.
_Guz_. The Slaves are ready, Sir, and a Galley to carry off the Christians.
_Jul_. How shall we make this Governor amends?
_Fran_. I do even weep for joy; alas, I must leave it to thee, Love.
_Jul_. To me, Sir? do you mock me?
_Fran_. Mock thee! no; I know thy Virtue, and will no more be jealous, believe me, Chicken, I was an old Fool.
_Car_. Your Wife is chaste--she overcame my unruly Passion with her Prayers and Tears.
_Enter_ Isabella _at one door_; Clara, Antonio, Jacinta, _at another_; Isabella's _Train carried up_.
_Fran_. Rare News,--we are all free and ransom'd! All's well, and the Man has his Mare again.
_Isa_. You still forget your Duty and your Distance.
_Fran_. A pox of your troublesom Honour; a man can't be overjoy'd in quiet for't.
_Enter_ Baltazer _and_ Sebastian.
_Seb_. Sure, I am not mistaken, this is the House of my Son _Antonio_.
_Bal_. Let it be whose house 'twill, I think the Devil's broke loose in't.
_Seb_.--Or the _Turks_; for I have yet met with ne'er a Christian thing in't.
_Fran_. Hah,--do I dream, or is that my Father-in-law, and Signior _Sebastian_?
_Ant_. My Father here?
_Car_. _Baltazer_! [_Aside_.
_Bal_. Son _Francisco_, why do you gaze on me so?
_Fran_. Bless me, Sir, are you taken by the Great _Turk_ too?