thee with me, we were lost, my _Carlos_.

_Car_. When then, my _Julia_, shall we meet again?

_Jul_. You _Spaniards_ are a jealous Nation,
But in this _English Spaniard_ Old _Francisco_,
That mad Passion's doubled; wholly deprives him of his Sense, and turns
his Nature Brute; wou'd he but trust me only with my Woman, I wou'd
contrive some way to see my _Carlos_.

_Car_. 'Tis certain, _Julia_, that thou must be mine.

_Jul_. Or I must die, my _Carlos_.

[Ant. _listning advances_.

_Ant_.--I'm sure 'tis _Carlos's_ voice, and with a Woman;
And though he be my Rival but in Jest,
I have a natural curiosity to see who 'tis he entertains.

_Jul_. Oh Heavens! Sir, here's _Francisco_; step aside,
Lest mischief shou'd befall you.
[_Runs in_.

_Car_. Now Love and wild Desire prompt me to kill this happy Rival,--
he's old, and can't be long in his Arrears to Nature.--What if I paid
the debt? [_Draws halfway_. One single push wou'd do't, and _Julia's_
mine;--but, hang't, Adultery is a less sin than Murder, and I will wait
my Fortune.--

_Ant_. Where are you,--Don _Carlos_?

_Car_. Who's there, _Antonio_? I took thee for my Rival, and ten to one
but I had done thy business.

_Ant_. I heard ye talking and believ'd you safe, and came in hopes to
get a little time to speak to _Clara_ in;--hah!--_Jacinta_--

_Jac_. Who's there, _Antonio_?
[_Peeping out of the door_.

_Ant_. The same; may I not speak with _Clara_?

_Jac_. Come in, she's here.--

_Car_. And prithee, dear _Jacinta_, let me have one word with _Julia_
more, she need not fear surprize; just at the door let me but kiss her
hand.
[_Going in_.

_Jac_. I'll see if I can bring her.--

_Enter_ Francisco.

_Fran_. A proud ungracious Flirt,--a Lord with a Pox! here's a fine
business, i'faith, that she should be her own Carver,--well I'll home,
and thunder her together with a vengeance.

_Car_. Who's here? sure this is he indeed; I'll step aside, lest my
being seen give him an occasion of jealousy, and make him affront his
Wife.
[_Goes aside as_ Fran. _was going in_.

_Enter_ Julia.

_Fran_. Hum, what have we here, a Woman?

_Jul_. Heavens! what, not gone yet, my Dear?

_Fran_. So, so, 'tis my confounded Wife, who expecting some body wou'd
have me gone now.

_Jul_. Are you not satisfied with all I've said,
With all the Vows I've made,
Which here