’Tis no respect of Honour makes her weep;
Her Loves the same shou’d I cry—­Chimney Sweep.

[Ex.

ACT V.

SCENE I. A Garden.

Enter Francisco alone.

Fran.  Now am I afraid to walk in this Garden, lest I shou’d spy my own natural Wife lying with the Great Turk in Fresco, upon some of these fine fiowry Banks, and learning how to make Cuckolds in Turkey.

    Enter Guzman and Jacinta.

Guz.  Nay, dear Jacinta, cast an eye of pity on me.—­What, deny the Vizier Bassa?

Jac.  When you are honest Guzman again, I’ll tell you a piece of my mind.

Guz.  But opportunity will not be kind to Guzman, as to the Grand Bassa; therefore, dear Rogue, let’s retire into these kind shades, or, if foolish Virtue be so squeamish, and needless Reputation so nice, that Mr. Vicar must say Amen to the bargain, there is an old lousy Frier, belonging to this Villa, that will give us a cast of his Office; for I am a little impatient about this business, Greatness having infus’d a certain itch in my Blood, which I felt not whilst a common Man.

Fran.  Um, why, what have we here, pert Mrs. Jacinta and the Bassa?  I hope the Jade will be Turkefied with a vengeance, and have Circumcision in abundance; and the Devil shall ransom her for old Francisco.

Jac.  Hah, the old Gentleman!

Fran.  What, the Frolick is to go round, I see, you Women have a happy time on’t.

Guz.  Men that have kind Wives may be as happy; you’ll have the honour of being made a Cuckold, Heaven be prais’d.

Fran.  Ay, Sir, I thank ye,—­pray, under the Rose, how does my Wife please his Grace the Great Turk?

Guz.  Murmuring again, thou Slave.

Fran.  Who, I?  O Lord, Sir! not I, why, what hurt is there in being a Cuckold?

Guz.  Hurt, Sirrah, you shall be swinged into a belief, that it is an honour for the Great Turk to borrow your Wife.

Fran.  But for the Lender to pay Use-money, is somewhat severe;—­but, see, he comes,—­bless me, how grim he looks!

    Enter Carlos, and Mutes attending.

Car.  Come hither, Slave,—­why, was it that I gave you Life? dismiss’d the Fetters from your aged Limbs?

Fran.  For love of my Wife, and’t please your Barbarousness.

Car.  Gave you free leave to range the Palace round, excepting my Apartment only?

Fran.  Still for my Wife’s sake, I say, and’t like your Hideousness.

Car.  And yet this Wife, this most ungrateful Wife of yours, again wou’d put your Chains on, expose your Life to Dangers and new Torments, by a too stubborn Virtue, she does refuse my Courtship, and foolishly is chaste.