_Jasp._ You now Revive my Drooping Spirits, Aunt, and
Make my hopes grow strong! Ah sweet Revenge,
How my soul Dances but with thoughts of it;
Assist me, Aunt, to get this mighty Blessing, and I
Shall dye your slave.

_Witch._ O rare Boy!
How I rejoyce to see this Spirit in thee,
For 'tis the vertue of our Family
To seek Revenge, not basely swallow wrongs:
_Don Sancho De Mensalvo_, thy Grandsire
Was for a while Vice-Admiral of Spain,
But then disgrac'd turn'd Pyrate and Reveng'd
With Fire and Sword on all Mankind, the wrongs
He thought the Court had basely plac'd on him;
At last he was betray'd and lost his head,
Thy Father turn'd Bandetto, what he got
I did dispose of for him; but his Fate
Betray'd him too to Death by Execution:
Since when I by these Arts do strive to live,
And thou art forc'd to serve--
That very Lord, who does those Lands
Possess should have been thine.

_Jasp._ But will e're long mount to some higher sphere,
Or dye in the attempt; this Plot, perhaps, may do,
And I thereby obtain some part of my Estate
Again; for if the plotted mischiefs shall succeed,
I'le tell him whom I am, and my resolves, either