dark alley:--No, 'tis the son
of a mare, that's broken loose, and munching upon the melons.--Oh, the
misery of an expecting lover! Well, I'll e'en despair, go into my
arbour, and try to sleep; in a dream I shall enjoy her, in despite of
her. [_Goes into the Arbour, and lies down._

_Enter_ JOHAYMA, _wrapt up in a Moorish mantle._

_Joh._ Thus far my love has carried me, almost without my knowledge
whither I was going. Shall I go on? shall I discover myself?--What an
injury am I doing to my old husband! Yet what injury, since he's old,
and has three wives, and six concubines, besides me! 'tis but stealing
my own tithe from him. [_She comes a little nearer the Arbour._

_Ant._ [_Raising himself a little, and looking._] At last 'tis she;
this is no illusion, I am sure; 'tis a true she-devil of flesh and
blood, and she could never have taken a fitter time to tempt me.

_Joh._ He's young and handsome--

_Ant._ Yes, well enough, I thank nature. [_Aside._

_Joh._ And I am yet neither old nor ugly: Sure he will not refuse me.

_Ant._ No; thou may'st pawn thy maidenhead upon't, he wont. [_Aside._

_Joh._ The Mufti would feast himself upon other women, and keep me
fasting.

_Ant._ O, the holy curmudgeon! [_Aside._

_Joh._ Would preach abstinence, and practise luxury! but, I thank my
stars, I have edified more by his example than his precept.

_Ant._ [_Aside._] Most divinely argued; she's the best casuist in all
Africk. [_He rushes out, and embraces her._] I can hold no longer from
embracing thee, my dear Morayma; the old unconscionable whoreson, thy
father, could he expect cold chastity from a child of his begetting?

_Joh._ What nonsense do you talk? do you take me for the Mufti's
daughter?

_Ant._ Why, are you not, madam? [_Throwing off her barnus._

_Joh._ I find you had an appointment with Morayma.

_Ant._ By all that's good, the nauseous wife! [_Aside._

_Joh._ What! you are confounded, and stand mute?

_Ant._ Somewhat nonplust, I confess, to hear you deny your name so
positively. Why, are not you Morayma, the Mufti's daughter? Did not I
see you with him: did not he present me to you? were you not so
charitable as to give me money? ay, and to tread upon my foot, and
squeeze my hand too, if I may be so bold to remember you of past
favours?

_Joh._ And you see I am come to make them good; but I am