Fut. Aye, this is brave indeed! Guz. Our cloke, whose cape is Larded with peärls, which the Indian cacique Guz. We will appear, Before our Amoretta, like the issue Fut. Imagine so, And that this rich suit of imagination Is on already now :-here stands your Amoretta, Make your approach and court her. Guz. Lustre of beauty, Not to affright your tender soul with horror, Become great Guzman's oratory best, Who, though victorious, (and during life Must be,) yet now grants parley to thy smiles. Fut. S'foot, Don, you talk too big, you make her tremble; Do you not see't imaginarily? I do, as plainly as you saw the death Of the Austrian boar; she rather hears press, saint, way. Shalt taste no delicates but what are drest Fut. Can more be said by one that feeds on herring And garlick constantly? Guz. Yes, we will feast [Aside. Fut. Enough! she's taken, and will love you now, As well in buff, as your imagined bravery. guage, Bold man of arms, shall win upon her, doubt not, Leave such poor outside helps to puling lovers, I you. Fut. Why, so! you carry her from all the world. I'm proud my stars design'd me out an instrument In such an high employment. Guz. Gravely spoken; You may be proud on't. Enter, on the opposite side, FULGOSO and PIERO. Ful. What is lost is lost, Money is trash, and ladies are et cæteras, Play's play, luck's luck, fortune's an-I know what; The fair Spinella lose an equal part? Ful. Bare three-score ducats, Thirty a-piece, we need not care who know it. She play'd; I went her half, walk'd by, and whistled After my usual manner thus-unmoved, [Whistles, As no such thing had ever been, as it were, Although I saw the winners share my money: His lordship and an honest gentleman Purs'd it, but not so merrily as I Whistled it off. Piero. A noble confidence! Fut. D'you note your rival? Ful. I can forego things nearer than my gold, Too, as it were. VOL. II. D Piero. But not your love, Fulgoso. Ful. No, she's inherent, and mine own past losing. Piero. It tickles me to think with how much state, You, as it were, did run at tilt in love, Before your Amoretta. Ful. Broke my lance. Piero. Of wit, of wit! Ful. I mean so, as it were, And laid, flat on her back, both horse and woman. Piero. Right, as it were. Ful. What else, man, as it were? Guz. [crossing over to FUL.] Did you do this to her? dare you to vaunt Your triumph, we being present? um, ha, um. It is some truss of reeds, or empty cask, In which the wind with whistling sports itself. Fut. Bear up, sir, he's your rival, budge not from him An inch; your grounds are honour. Piero. Stoutly ventured, Don, hold him to't. Ful. 'Protest, a fine conceit, A very fine conceit; and thus I told her, And then we're both one noble ;" better still!Hab-nab's good; wink and choose; if one must have her, The other goes without her,-best of all !— A foolish generous quality, from which weapon Toledo language, Bilboa, or dull Pisa? Fut. Famous Don. Ful. What does he talk? my weapon speaks no language, 'Tis a Dutch iron truncheon. Guz. Dutch! Fut. And, if need be, "Twill maul one's hide, in spite of who says nay. Guz. Dutch to a Spaniard! hold me. Ful. Hold me too, Sirrah, if thou'rt my friend, for I love no fighting; If I must fight, I must; in a scurvy quarrel Guz. Butter'd? Dutch again! You come not with intention to affront us? Ful. Front me no fronts; if thou be'st angry, squabble Here's my defence, and thy destruction. [Whistles a charge. If friends, shake hands, and go with me to dinner. |