Isa.  Nay, let’s retire, and compleat my Quality, and you will find me a Wife of the Mode, I’ll warrant you.

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.