MEN. _Ambrosio_, A Nobleman of _Spain_. _Marcel_, His Son. _Silvio_, Supposed Bastard Son to _Ambrosio_. _Antonio_, A German that has debauch’d _Hippolyta_. _Alonzo_, A _Flanders_ Colonel contracted to _Hippolyta_ and newly arriv’d at _Madrid_. _Lovis_, His Friend. _Carlo_, Father to _Lovis_ and _Euphemia_. _Haunce van Ezel_, A Dutch Fop contracted to _Euphemia_, newly arriv’d at _Madrid_. _Gload_, His Cash-keeper. _Pedro_, An old Servant to _Alonzo_. Boy, Page to _Marcel_. Servant to _Carlo_. A Friar. WOMEN. _Euphemia_, In love with _Alonzo_. _Hippolyta_, In love with _Antonio_, Daughters to _Ambrosio_. _Cleonte_, In love with _Silvio_, _Clarinda_, Sister unknown to _Alonzo_, in love with _Marcel_. _Dormida_, Her Governess. _Francisca_, Woman to _Cleonte_. _Olinda_, Two Maids to _Euphemia_. _Dorice_, Swains, Four Shepherds, Four Nymphs, Dutch Men and Dutch Women. The Scene, _Madrid_. 227 THE _DUTCH_ LOVER. ACT I. Scene I. A Street. Enter _Alonzo_ and _Lovis_ in travelling Habits, attended by _Pedro_ and _Gload_. Lo. Dear _Alonzo!_ I shall love a Church the better this Month for giving me a sight of thee, whom I so little expected in this part of the World, and less in so sanctifi’d a Place. What Affair could be powerful enough to draw thee from the kind obliging Ladies of _Brabant?_ Alon. First the sudden Orders of my Prince _Don John_, and next a fair Lady. Lo. A Lady! Can any of this Country relish with a Man that has been us’d to the Freedom of those of _Bruxels_, from whence I suppose you are now arriv’d? Alon. This morning I landed, from such a Storm, as set us all to making Vows of Conversion, (upon good Conditions) and that indeed brought me to Church. Lo. In that very Storm I landed too, but with less Sense of Danger than you, being diverted with a pleasant Fellow that came along with me, and who is design’d to marry a Sister of mine against my Will—And now I think of him, _Gload_, 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? 228 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?