_Ped._ Would I had but a lease of life so long, As 'till my flesh and blood rebelled this way, Against our sovereign lady;--mad for a queen? With a globe in one hand, and a sceptre in t'other? A very pretty moppet! _Alph._ Then to declare his madness to his rival! His father absent on an embassy; Himself a stranger almost; wholly friendless! A torrent, rolling down a precipice, Is easier to be stopt, than is his ruin. _Ped._ 'Tis fruitless to complain; haste to the court; Improve your interest there for pardon from the queen. _Alph._ Weak remedies; But all must be attempted. [_Exit._ SCENE II. _Enter_ LORENZO. _Lor._ Well, I am the most unlucky rogue! I have been ranging over half the town; but have sprung no game. Our women are worse infidels than the Moors: I told them I was one of the knight-errants, that delivered them from ravishment; and I think in my conscience, that is their quarrel to me. _Ped._ Is this a time for fooling? Your cousin is run honourably mad in love with her majesty; he is split upon a rock, and you, who are in chase of harlots, are sinking in the main ocean. I think, the devil's in the family. [_Exit._ _Lor._ [_Solus._] My cousin ruined, says he! hum, not that I wish my kinsman's ruin; that were unchristian: but, if the general is ruined, I am heir; there's comfort for a Christian! Money I have; I thank the honest Moors for it; but I want a mistress. I am willing to be lewd; but the tempter is wanting on his part. _Enter_ ELVIRA, _veiled._ _Elv._ Stranger! Cavalier!--will you not hear me? you Moor-killer, you Matador!-- _Lor._ Meaning me, madam? _Elv._ Face about, man! you a soldier, and afraid of the enemy! _Lor._ I must confess, I did not expect to have been charged first: I see souls will not be lost for want of diligence in this devil's reign. [_Aside._] Now, Madam Cynthia, behind a cloud, your will and pleasure with me? _Elv._ You have the appearance of a cavalier; and if you are as deserving as you seem, perhaps you may not repent of your adventure. If a lady like you well enough to hold discourse with you at first sight; you are gentleman enough, I hope, to help her out with an apology, and to lay the blame on stars, or destiny, or what you please, to excuse the frailty of a woman? _Lor._ O, I love an easy woman! there's such ado, to crack a thick-shelled mistress; we break our teeth, and find no kernel. 'Tis generous in you, to take pity on a stranger, and not to suffer him to fall into ill hands at his first arrival. _Elv._ You may have a better opinion of me than I deserve; you have not seen me yet; and, therefore, I am confident you are heart-whole.