_Isa_. Are you so? here, take this Jewel,--in earnest of greater Favours-- [_Gives him a Jewel_. [Exeunt all. SCENE II. _A Garden_. _Enter Don Carlos and_ Lopez. _Car_. But, why so near the Land? by Heaven, I saw each action of the Fight, from yonder grove of Jessamine; and doubtless all beheld it from the Town. _Lop_. The Captain, Sir, design’d it so, and at the Harbour gave it out those two Galleys were purposely prepared to entertain the Count and the Ladies with the representation of a Sea-fight; lest the noise of the Guns should alarm the Town, and, taking it for a real fight, shou’d have sent out Supplies, and so have ruin’d our Designs. _Car_. Well, have we all things in readiness? _Lop_. All, Sir, all. _Enter_ Page. _Page_. My Lord, a Barge from the Galley is just arriv’d at the Garden-Stairs. _Enter_ Guzman. _Car_. I’ll retire then, and fit me for my part of this Farce. _Guz_. My Lord, you must retire, they’re just bringing the Old Gentleman ashore. _Car_. Prithee how does he take his Captivity? _Guz_. Take it, Sir! he has cast himself into a Fit, and has lain like one in a Trance this half hour; ‘tis impossible for him to speak Sense this fortnight; I’ll secure his Reason a play-day for so long at least; your Servants, in _Turkish_ habits, are now his Guards, who will keep him safe enough from hindering your designs with _Julia_. _Car_. Whatever you do, have a care you do not overfright the Coxcomb, and make a Tragedy of our Comedy. _Guz_. I’ll warrant you, Sir, mind your Love-affairs,--he’s coming in,--retire, Sir.-- [_Ex_. Car. _and_ Page _and_ Lop. _Enter some _Turks _with the body of _Francisco _in chains, and lay him down on a Bank_. 1st _Turk_. Christian, so ho ho, Slave, awake.-- [_Rubbing and calling him_. _Fran_. Hah! where am I?--my Wife,--my Wife--where am I?--hah! what are you?--Ghosts,--Devils,--Mutes,--no answer?--hah, bound in chains, --Slaves, where am I? 1st _Turk_. They understand not your Language; but I, who am a _Renegade Spaniard_, understand you when you speak civilly, which I advise you to do. _Fran_. Do you know me, Friend? 1st _Turk_. I know you to be a Slave, and the Great _Turk’s_ Slave too. _Fran_. The Great Turk,--the Great Devil, why, where am I, Friend? 1st _Turk_. Within the Territories of the _Grand Seignior_, and this a Palace of Pleasure, where he recreates himself with his Mistresses. _Fran_. And how far is that from _Cadiz_?--but what care I? my Wife, Friend, my own Wife. 1st _Turk_. Your own,--a true Musselman cou’d have said no more; but take no care for her, she’s provided for. _Fran_. Is she dead? That wou’d be some comfort. 1st _Turk_. No, she’s alive, and in good hands.