_, where hast thou left this Master of thine?

_Glo._ At the Inn, Sir, in as lamentable a Pickle, as if he were still
in the Storm; recruiting his emptyed Stomach with Brandy, and railing
against all Women-kind for your Sister's sake, who has made him
undertake this Voyage.

_Lo._ Well, I'll come to him, go home before. [Ex. _Gload_.

_Alon._ Prithee what thing is this?

_Lo._ Why, 'tis the Cashier to this Squire I spoke of, a Man of
Business, and as wise as his Master, but the graver Coxcomb of the two.
But this Lady, _Alonzo_, who is this Lady thou speak'st of? shall not I
know her? We were wont to divide the Spoils of Beauty, as well as those
of War between us.

_Alon._ O but this is no such Prize, thou wouldst hardly share this with
the Danger, there's Matrimony in the Case.

_Lo._ Nay, then keep her to thy self, only let me know who 'tis that can
debauch thee to that scandalous way of Life; is she fair? will she
recompense the Folly?

_Alon._ Faith, I know not, I never saw her yet, but 'tis the Sister of
_Marcel_, whom we both knew last Summer in _Flanders_, and where he and
I contracted such a Friendship, that without other Consideration he
promis'd me _Hippolyta_, for that's his Sister's Name.

_Lo._ But wo't thou really marry her?

_Alon._ I consider my Advantage in being allied to so considerable a Man
as _Ambrosio_, her Father; I being now so unhappy as not to know my
Birth or Parents.

_Lo._ I have often heard of some such thing, but durst not ask the Truth
of it.

_Alon._ 'Tis so, all that I know of my self is, that a _Spanish_
Souldier, who brought me up in the Army, dying, confest I was not his
Son, (which till then I believ'd) and at the Age of twelve left me to
shift for my self: the Fortune he inrich'd me with, was his Horse and
Arms, with a few Documents how to use them, as I had seen him do with
good success: This Servant, [Points to _Pedro_] and a Crucifix of
Value. And from one Degree to another, I arriv'd to what you knew me,
Colonel of the Prince's Regiment, and the Glory of his Favour.

_Lo._ Honour is the Child of Virtue, and finds an Owner every where.

_Alon._ Oh, Sir, you are a Courtier, and have much the odds of a
Souldier in Parleys of this nature: but hither I am come--

_Lo._ To be undone-- Faith, thou look'st ill upon't.

_Alon._ I confess I am not altogether so brisk as I should have been
upon another Occasion; you know, _Lovis_, I have been us'd to Christian
Lib