Ant. I have always had a longing to be yours again, though I could not compass it before; and had designed you a casket of my master’s jewels too; for I knew the custom, and would not have appeared before a great person, as you are, without a present:  But he has defrauded my good intentions, and basely robbed you of them; ’tis a prize worthy a million of crowns, and you carry your letters of marque about you.

Must. I shall make bold with his treasure, for the support of my new government.—­[The people gather about him.]—­What do these vile raggamuffins so near our person? your savour is offensive to us; bear back there, and make room for honest men to approach us:  These fools and knaves are always impudently crowding next to princes, and keeping off the more deserving:  Bear back, I say.—­[They make a wider circle.]—­That’s dutifully done!  Now shout, to shew your loyalty. [A great shout.]—­Hear’st thou that, slave Antonio?  These obstreperous villains shout, and know not for what they make a noise.  You shall see me manage them, that you may judge what ignorant beasts they are.—­For whom do you shout now?  Who’s to live and reign; tell me that, the wisest of you?

1 Rabble. Even who you please, captain.

Must. La, you there!  I told you so.

2 Rabble. We are not bound to know, who is to live and reign; our business is only to rise upon command, and plunder.

3 Rabble. Ay, the richest of both parties; for they are our enemies.

Must. This last fellow is a little more sensible than the rest; he has entered somewhat into the merits of the cause.

1 Rabble. If a poor man may speak his mind.  I think, captain, that yourself are the fittest to live and reign; I mean not over, but next, and immediately under, the people; and thereupon I say, A Mustapha, a Muatapha!

Omnes. A Mustapha, a Mustapha!

Must. I must confess the sound is pleasing, and tickles the ears of my ambition; but alas, good people, it must not be!  I am contented to be a poor simple viceroy.  But prince Muley-Zeydan is to be the man:  I shall take care to instruct him in the arts of government, and in his duty to us all; and, therefore, mark my cry, A Muley-Zeydan, a Muley-Zeydan!

Omnes. A Muley-Zeydan, a Muley-Zeydan!

Must. You see, slave Antonio, what I might have been?

Ant. I observe your modesty.

Must. But for a foolish promise, I made once to my lord Benducar, to set up any one he pleased.—­

  Re-enter the Mufti, with his Servants.

Ant. Here’s the old hypocrite again.—­Now stand your ground and bate him not an inch.  Remember the jewels, the rich and glorious jewels; they are designed to be yours, by virtue of prerogative.

Must. Let me alone to pick a quarrel; I have an old grudge to him upon thy account.