_Arn_. The base dishonour, that thou doest to strangers, In glorying to abuse the Laws of Marriage, Thy Infamy thou hast flung upon thy Country, In nourishing this black and barbarous Custom. _Clod_. My Guard. _Arn_. One word more, and thou diest. _Rut_. One syllable That tends to any thing, but I beseech you, And as y'are Gentlemen tender my case, And I'le thrust my Javeling down thy throat. Thou Dog-whelp, thou, pox upon thee, what Should I call thee, Pompion, Thou kiss my Lady? thou scour her Chamber-pot: Thou have a Maiden-head? a mottly Coat, You great blind fool, farewel and be hang'd to ye, Lose no time Lady. _Arn_. Pray take your pleasure Sir, And so we'l take our leaves. _Zen_. We are determined, Dye, before yield. _Arn_. Honour, and a fair grave. _Zen_. Before a lustful Bed, so for our fortunes. _Rut_. _Du cat awhee_, good Count, cry, prethee cry, O what a wench hast thou lost! cry you great booby. [_Exe_. _Enter_ Charino. _Clod_. And is she gone then, am I dishonoured thus, Cozened and baffl'd? my Guard there, no man answer? My Guard I say, sirrah you knew of this plot; Where are my Guard? I'le have your life you villain, You politick old Thief. _Char_. Heaven send her far enough, _Enter Guard_. And let me pay the ransom. _Guard_. Did your honour call us? _Clod_. Post every way, and presently recover The two strange Gentlemen, and the fair Lady. _Guard_. This day was Married Sir? _Clod_. The same. _Guard_. We saw 'em. Making with all main speed to th' Port. _Clod_. Away villains. [_Exit Guard_. Recover her, or I shall dye; deal truly, Didst not thou know? _Char_. By all that's good I did not. If your honour mean their flight, to say I grieve for that, Will be to lye; you may handle me as you please. _Clod_. Be sure, with all the cruelty, with all the rigor, For thou hast rob'd me villain of a treasure. _Enter Guard_. How now? _Guard_. They're all aboard, a Bark rode ready for 'em, And now are under Sail, and past recovery. _Clod_. Rig me a Ship with all the speed that may be, I will not lose her: thou her most false Father, Shalt go along; and if I miss her, hear me, A whole day will I study to destroy thee. _Char_. I shall be joyful of it; and so you'l find me. [_Exeunt omnes_. _Actus Secundus. Scena Prima_. _Enter_ Manuel du Sosa, _and_ Guiomar. _Man_. I Hear and see too much of him, and that Compels me Madam, though unwillingly, To wish I had no Uncles part in him, And much I fear, the comfort of a Son You will not long enjoy. _Gui_. 'Tis not my fault, And therefore from his guilt my innocence Cannot be tainted, since his Fathers death, (Peace to his soul) a Mothers prayers and care Were never wanting, in his education. His Child-hood I pass o're, as being brought up Under my wing; and growing ripe for study, I overcame the tenderness, and joy I had to look upon him, and provided The choicest Masters, and of greatest name Of _Salamanca_, in all liberal Arts.