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,