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beat something into thee.-[Beats him.)-Run after ber, you dog, and bring her back, or
(Peter runs off Fred. What, you won't kill him?
John. Nay, come not near me, for if thou dost, by Heavens, l'll give thee as much! and would do so however, but that I won't lose time from looking after my dear, sweet- -a plague confound you all!
(Goes in, and shuts the Door after him, Duke. What, he has shut the door!
Fred. It's no matter; I'll lead you to a private hack way, by that corner, where we shall meci him.
[Ereunt, Enter First CONSTANTIA. 1 Con. Oh, whither shall I run to hide myself ! the constable has seized the landlady, and, I am afraid, the poor child too. How to return to Don Frederick's house, I know not; and, if I knew, I durst not, after those things the landlady has told me of him. I am faulty, I confess, but greater faults have often met with lighter punishments.
Enter Don JOHN. John. I am almost dead with running, and will be 30 quite, but I will overtake her.
i Con. Hold, Don John, hold!
i Con. For Heaven's sake, sir, carry me from hence, or I'm utterly undone.
John. Phoo, plague, this is the other ! now could I almost beat her, for but making me the proposition. Madam, there are some a coming, that will do it a great deal better ; but I am in such haste, that, I vow to gad, madam
1 Con. Nay, pray, sir, stay; you are concerned in this as well as I; for your woman is taken.
John. Ha! my woman? [Goes back to her.] I vow
to gad, madam, I do so highly honour your ladyship, that I would venture my life, a thousand times, to do you service. But, pray, where is she?
1 Con. Why, sir, she is taken by the constable. John. Constable! Which way went he ?
1 Con. I cannot tell; for I ran out into the streets, just as he had seized upon your landlady.
John. Plague o' my landlady! I mean the other
1 Con. Other woman, sir! I have seen no other woman, never since I left your house !
John. 'Sheart! what have I been doing here, then, all this while? Madam, your most humble
i Con. Good sir, be not so cruel, as to leave me in this distress.
John. No, no, no; I'm only going a little way, and will be back again presently.
i Con. But, pray, sir, hear me; I'm in that dan gers
John. No, no, no; I vow to gad, madam, no danger i'th' world. Let me alone, I warrant you.
Hurries of i Con. He's gone, and I a lost, wretched, miserable creature, for ever!
Enter ANTONIO. Ant. Oh, there she is!
i Con. Who's this? Antonio ! the fiercest enemy I have.
[Runs away. Ant. Are you so nimble footed, gentlewoman? A plague confound all whores!
Kins. But, madam, be not so angry; perhaps she'll come again.
Mother. Oh, kinswoman, never speak of her more; for she's an udious creature to leave me thus in the lurch. I have given her all her breeding, and instructed her with my own principles of education.
Kins. I protest, madam, I think she's a person that knows as much of all that as
Mother. Knows, kinswoman! there's ne'er a female in Italy, of thrice her years, knows so much the procedures of a true gallantry; and the infallible principles of an honourable friendship, as she does.
Kins. And, therefore, niadam, you ought to love her.
Mother. No, fie upon her! nothing at all, as I am a christian. When once a person fails in fundamentals, she's at a period with me. Besides, with all her wit, Constantia is but a fool; and calls all the minauderies of a bonne mine, affectation.
Kins. Bless me, sweet goodness! But, pray, madam, how came Constantia to fall out with your ladyship? Did she take any thing ill of you ?
Mother. As I am a christian, I can't resolve you, unless it were that I led the dance first: but for that she must excuse me; I know she dances well, but there are others, who, perhaps, understand the right swim of it as well as she
Enter Don FREDERICK. And, though I love Constantia
Fred. How's this ? Constantia!
Mother. I know no reason why I should be debarred the privilege of showing my own geno too sometimes.
Fred. If I am not mistaken, that other woman is she Don John and I were directed to, when we came first to town, to bring us acquainted with Constantia. I'll try to get some intelligence from her. Pray, lady, have I never seen you before?
Kins. Yes, sir, I think you have, with another stranger, a friend of yours, one day, as I was coming out of the church.
Fred. I'm right then. And, pray, who were you talking of?
Mother. Why, sir, of an inconsiderate, inconsiderable person, that has at once both forfeited the hou nour of my concern, and the concern of her own ho
Fred. Very fine, indeed ! and is all this intended for the beautiful Constantia ?
Mother. Oh, fie upon her, sir, an odious creature, as I'm a christian, no beauty at all.
Fred. Why, does not your ladyship think her handsome?
Mother. Seriously, sir, I don't think she's ugly; but, as I am a christian, my position is, that no true beauty can be lodged in that creature, who is not, in some measure, buoyed up with a just sense of what is incumbent to the devoir of a person of quality.
Fred. That position, madam, is a little severe; but
however she has been incumbent formerly, as your ladyship is pleased to say, now that she's married, and her husband owns the child, she is sufficiently jusiified for what she has done,
Mother. Sir, I must, blushingly, beg leave to say, you are in an error. I know there has been the passion of love between them, but with a temperament so innocent and so refined, as it did impose negative upon the very possibility of her being with child. No, şir, I assure you, my daughter Constantia has never bad a child: A child ! ha! ha! ha! Oh, goodness save us, a child !
Fred. Well, madam, I shall not dispute this with you any further; but give me leave to wait upon your daughter; for her friend, I assure you, is in great impatience to see her.
Mother. Friend, sir! I know none she has. I'm sure she loaths the very sight of him.
Fred. Of whom? Mother. Why, of Antonio, sir; he that you were pleased to say —--ha! ha! ha!
Fred. I tell you I do not know Antonio, nor never named him to you. I told you, that the Duke has owned Constantia for his wife, and that her brother and be are friends, and are now both in search after her.
Mother. Then, as I'm a christian, I suspect we have both been'equally involved in the misfortune of a
Sir, I am in the dernier confusion to avow, that, though my daughter, Constantia, has been liable to several addresses, yet she never had the honour to be produced to his grace.
Fred. So, now the thing is out, and I'm a damned rogue for what I did to Don John; for, o' science, this is that Constantia the fellow told me of! I'll make him amends, whate'er it cost me. Lady, you must give me leave not to part with you, till you meet with your daughter, for some reasons I shall tell you