_Car_. Conduct him in; in this retreat of ours we use no State. _Enter_ Guzman, _as himself, gives_ Carlos _Letters_. _Guz_. Don _Carlos_, Governor of _Cadiz_, greets your Highness. _Carlos_ reads. High and Mighty, _For seven_ Christian _Slaves, taken lately by a Galley of yours, we offer you twice the number of_ Mahometans _taken from you by us. --If this suffice not,--propose your Ransoms, and they shall be paid by Don_ Carlos, _Governor of_ Cadiz. --Know you this _Carlos_ offers so fair for you? _Fran_. Most potent Lord, I do, and wonder at the Compliment,--and yet I am not jealous--I have so overacted the complaisant Husband, that I shall never fall into the other Extreme again. _Car_. Go, let the Christian Governor understand his Request is granted. _Guz_. The Slaves are ready, Sir, and a Galley to carry off the Christians. _Jul_. How shall we make this Governor amends? _Fran_. I do even weep for joy; alas, I must leave it to thee, Love. _Jul_. To me, Sir? do you mock me? _Fran_. Mock thee! no; I know thy Virtue, and will no more be jealous, believe me, Chicken, I was an old Fool. _Car_. Your Wife is chaste--she overcame my unruly Passion with her Prayers and Tears. _Enter_ Isabella _at one door_; Clara, Antonio, Jacinta, _at another_; Isabella’s _Train carried up_. _Fran_. Rare News,--we are all free and ransom’d! All’s well, and the Man has his Mare again. _Isa_. You still forget your Duty and your Distance. _Fran_. A pox of your troublesom Honour; a man can’t be overjoy’d in quiet for’t. _Enter_ Baltazer _and_ Sebastian. _Seb_. Sure, I am not mistaken, this is the House of my Son _Antonio_. _Bal_. Let it be whose house ‘twill, I think the Devil’s broke loose in’t. _Seb_.--Or the _Turks_; for I have yet met with ne’er a Christian thing in’t. _Fran_. Hah,--do I dream, or is that my Father-in-law, and Signior _Sebastian_? _Ant_. My Father here? _Car_. _Baltazer_! [_Aside_. _Bal_. Son _Francisco_, why do you gaze on me so? _Fran_. Bless me, Sir, are you taken by the Great _Turk_ too? _Bal_. Taken,--Great _Turk_,--what do mean? _Fran_. Mean, Sir! why, how the Devil came you into _Turkey_? _Bal_. Sure, Jealousy has crack’d his brains. _Fran_. Crack me no Cracks, good Father mine;--am not I a Slave in _Turkey_? and is not this the _Grand Seignior’s_ Palace? _Car_. So,--all will come out, there’s no prevention. [_Aside_. _Seb_. Some that are wiser answer us: You, Son,--are you infected too?--was not yesterday to have been your Wedding-day? _Ant_. To day has done as well, Sir, I have only chang’d _Isabella_ for _Clara_. _Seb_. How, _Francisco_, have you juggled with me? _Fran_. My Daughter’s a Lady, Sir. _Bal_. And you, Mistress, you have married _Antonio_, and left the Governor. _Cla_. I thought him the fitter Match, Sir, and hope your Pardon. _Jul_. We cannot scape. _Fran_. But how came you hither, Gentlemen, how durst you venture?