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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:05 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:39:05 -0700 |
| commit | c7905f32d4b0b018b9d2d9872eddaa6d510a470b (patch) | |
| tree | e9ba11098689db5d1a3183e440ee64c0f1ef308a /12141-0.txt | |
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diff --git a/12141-0.txt b/12141-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d022c24 --- /dev/null +++ b/12141-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6724 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12141 *** + + THE SPANISH CURATE, + + + A COMEDY. + + * * * * * + + + + + Persons Represented in the Play. + + + Don Henrique, _an uxorious Lord, + cruel to his Brother_. + + Don Jamie, _younger Brother to_ Don + Henrique. + + Bartolus, _a covetous Lawyer Husband + to_ Amaranta. + + Leandro, _a Gentleman who wantonly + loves the Lawyers Wife_. + + Angelo, } _Three Gentlemen Friend[s]_ + Milanes,} _to_ Leandro. + Arsenio,} + + Ascanio, _Son to_ Don Henrique. + + Octavio, _supposed Husband to_ Jacintha. + + Lopez, _the_ Spanish Curate. + + Diego, _his Sexton_. + + Assistant, _which we call a Judge_. + + Algazeirs, _whom we call Serjeants_. + + 4 Parishioners. + + Apparitor. + + Singers. + + Servants. + + + _WOMEN_. + + Violante, _supposed Wife to_ Don + Henrique. + + Jacintha, _formerly contracted to_ Don + Henrique. + + Amaranta, _Wife to_ Bartolus. + + A Woman Moor, _Servant to_ Amaranta. + + * * * * * + _The Scene_ Spain. + + * * * * * + + The principal Actors were, + + Joseph Taylor. } {William Eglestone. + John Lowin. } {Thomas Polard. + Nicholas Toolie.} {Robert Benfeild. + + * * * * * + + + Actus primus. Scena prima. + + * * * * * + + _Enter_ Angelo, Milanes, _and_ Arsenio. + + _Arsenio. + + Leandro_ paid all. + + _Mil_. + + 'Tis his usual custom, + And requisite he should: he has now put off + The Funeral black, (your rich heir wears with joy, + When he pretends to weep for his dead Father) + Your gathering Sires, so long heap muck together, + That their kind Sons, to rid them of their care, + Wish them in Heaven; or if they take a taste + Of Purgatory by the way, it matters not, + Provided they remove hence; what is befaln + To his Father, in the other world, I ask not; + I am sure his prayer is heard: would I could use one + For mine, in the same method. + + _Ars_. + + Fie upon thee. + This is prophane. + + _Mil_. + + Good Doctor, do not school me + For a fault you are not free from: On my life + Were all Heirs in _Corduba_, put to their Oaths, + They would confess with me, 'tis a sound Tenet: + I am sure _Leandro_ do's. + + _Ars_. + + He is th'owner + Of a fair Estate. + + _Mil_. + + And fairly he deserves it, + He's a Royal Fellow: yet observes a mean + In all his courses, careful too on whom + He showers his bounties: he that's liberal + To all alike, may do a good by chance, + But never out of Judgment: This invites + The prime men of the City to frequent + All places he resorts to, and are happy + In his sweet Converse. + + _Ars. + + Don Jamie_ the Brother + To the Grandee _Don Henrique_, appears much taken + With his behaviour. + + _Mil_. + + There is something more in't: + He needs his Purse, and knows how to make use on't. + 'Tis now in fashion for your _Don_, that's poor, + To vow all Leagues of friendship with a Merchant + That can supply his wants, and howsoe're + _Don Jamie's_ noble born, his elder Brother + _Don Henrique_ rich, and his Revenues long since + Encreas'd by marrying with a wealthy Heir + Call'd, Madam _Vi[o]lante_, he yet holds + A hard hand o're _Jamie_, allowing him + A bare annuity only. + + _Ars_. + + Yet 'tis said + He hath no child, and by the Laws of _Spain_ + If he die without issue, _Don Jamie_ + Inherits his Estate. + + _Mil_. + + Why that's the reason + Of their so many jarrs: though the young Lord + Be sick of the elder Brother, and in reason + Should flatter, and observe him, he's of a nature + Too bold and fierce, to stoop so, but bears up, + Presuming on his hopes. + + _Ars_. + + What's the young Lad + That all of 'em make so much of? + + _Mil._ + + 'Tis a sweet one, + And the best condition'd youth, I ever saw yet, + So humble, and so affable, that he wins + The love of all that know him, and so modest, + That (in despight of poverty) he would starve + Rather than ask a courtesie: He's the Son + Of a poor cast-Captain, one _Octavio_; + And She, that once was call'd th'fair _Jacinta_, + Is happy in being his Mother: for his sake, + + _Enter_ Jamie, Leandro, _and_ Ascanio. + + (Though in their Fortunes faln) they are esteem'd of, + And cherish'd by the best. O here they come. + I now may spare his Character, but observe him, + He'l justifie my report. + + _Jam_. + + My good _Ascanio_, + Repair more often to me: above Women + Thou ever shalt be welcome. + + _Asc_. + + My Lord your favours + May quickly teach a raw untutour'd Youth + To be both rude and sawcy. + + _Lean_. + + You cannot be + Too frequent where you are so much desir'd: + And give me leave (dear friend) to be your Rival + In part of his affection; I will buy it + At any rate. + + _Jam_. + + Stood I but now possess'd + Of what my future hope presages to me, + I then would make it clear thou hadst a Patron + That would not say but do: yet as I am, + Be mine, I'le not receive thee as a servant, + But as my Son, (and though I want my self) + No Page attending in the Court of _Spain_ + Shall find a kinder master. + + _Asc_. + + I beseech you + That my refusal of so great an offer + May make no ill construction, 'tis not pride + (That common vice is far from my condition) + That makes you a denyal to receive + A favour I should sue for: nor the fashion + Which the Country follows, in which to be a servant + In those that groan beneath the heavy weight + Of poverty, is held an argument + Of a base abject mind, I wish my years + Were fit to do you service in a nature + That might become a Gentleman (give me leave + To think my self one) My Father serv'd the King + As a Captain in the field; and though his fortune + Return'd him home a poor man, he was rich + In Reputation, and wounds fairly taken. + Nor am I by his ill success deterr'd, + I rather feel a strong desire that sways me + To follow his profession, and if Heaven + Hath mark'd me out to be a man, how proud, + In the service of my Country, should I be, + To trail a Pike under your brave command! + There, I would follow you as a guide to honour, + Though all the horrours of the War made up + To stop my passage. + + _Jam_. + + Thou art a hopeful Boy, + And it was bravely spoken: For this answer, + I love thee more than ever. + + _Mil_. + + Pity such seeds + Of promising courage should not grow and prosper. + + _Ang_. + + What ever his reputed Parents be, + He hath a mind that speaks him right and noble. + + _Lean_. + + You make him blush; it needs not sweet _Ascanio_, + We may hear praises when they are deserv'd, + Our modesty unwounded. By my life + I would add something to the building up + So fair a mind, and if till you are fit + To bear Arms in the Field, you'l spend some years + In _Salamanca_, I'le supply your studies + With all conveniences. + + _Asc_. + + Your goodness (Signiors) + And charitable favours overwhelm me. + If I were of your blood, you could not be + More tender of me: what then can I pay + (A poor Boy and a stranger) but a heart + Bound to your service? with what willingness + I would receive (good Sir) your noble offer, + Heaven can bear witness for me: but alas, + Should I embrace the means to raise my fortunes, + I must destroy the lives of my poor Parents + (To who[m] I ow my being) they in me + Place all their comforts, and (as if I were + The light of their dim eyes) are so indulgent + They cannot brook one short dayes absence from me; + And (what will hardly win belief) though young, + I am their Steward and their Nurse: the bounties + Which others bestow on me serves to sustain 'em, + And to forsake them in their age, in me + Were more than Murther. + + _Enter_ Henrique. + + _Aug_. + + This is a kind of begging + Would make a Broker charitable. + + _Mil_. + + Here, (sweet heart) + I wish it were more. + + _Lean_. + + When this is spent, + Seek for supply from me. + + _Jam_. + + Thy piety + For ever be remembred: nay take all, + Though 'twere my exhibition to a Royal + For one whole year. + + _Asc_. + + High Heavens reward your goodness. + + _Hen_. + + So Sir, is this a slip of your own grafting, + You are so prodigal? + + _Jam_. + + A slip Sir? + + _Hen_. + + Yes, + A slip; or call it by the proper name, + Your Bastard. + + _Jam_. + + You are foul-mouth'd; do not provoke me, + I shall forget your Birth if you proceed, + And use you, (as your manners do deserve) uncivilly. + + _Hen_. + + So brave! pray you give me hearing, + Who am I Sir? + + _Jam_. + + My elder Brother: One + That might have been born a fool, and so reputed, + But that you had the luck to creep into + The world a year before me. + + _Lean_. + + Be more temperate. + + _Jam_. + + I neither can nor will, unless I learn it + By his example: let him use his harsh + Unsavoury reprehensions upon those + That are his Hinds, and not on me. The Land + Our Father left to him alone rewards him, + For being twelve months elder, let that be + Forgotten, and let his Parasites remember + One quality of worth or vertue in him + That may authorize him, to be a censurer + Of me, or my manners, and I will + Acknowledge him for a Tutor, till then, never. + + _Hen_. + + From whom have you your means Sir? + + _Jam_. + + From the will + Of my dead Father; I am sure I spend not + Nor give't upon your purse. + + _Hen. + + But will it hold out + Without my help? + + _Jam_. + + I am sure it shall, I'le sink else, + For sooner I will seek aid from a Whore, + Than a courtesie from you. + + _Hen_. + + 'Tis well; you are proud of + Your new Exchequer, when you have cheated him + And worn him to the quick, I may be found + In the List of your acquaintance. + + _Lean_ + + Pray you hold + And give me leave (my Lord) to say thus much + (And in mine own defence) I am no Gull + To be wrought on by perswasion: nor no Coward + To be beaten out of my means, but know to whom + And why I give or lend, and will do nothing + But what my reason warrants; you may be + As sparing as you please, I must be bold + To make use of my own, without your licence. + + _Jam_. + + 'Pray thee let him alone, he is not worth thy anger. + All that he do's (_Leandro_) is for my good, + I think there's not a Gentleman of _Spain_, + That has a better Steward, than I have of him. + + _Hen_. + + Your Steward Sir? + + _Jam_. + + Yes, and a provident one: + Why, he knows I am given to large expence, + And therefore lays up for me: could you believe else + That he, that sixteen years hath worn the yoke + Of barren wedlock, without hope of issue + (His Coffers full, his Lands and Vineyards fruitful) + Could be so sold to base and sordid thrift, + As almost to deny himself, the means + And necessaries of life? Alas, he knows + The Laws of _Spain_ appoint me for his Heir, + That all must come to me, if I out-live him, + Which sure I must do, by the course of Nature, + And the assistance of good Mirth, and Sack, + How ever you prove Melancholy. + + _Hen_. + + If I live, + Thou dearly shalt repent this. + + _Jam_. + + When thou art dead, + I am sure I shall not. + + _Mil_. + + Now they begin to burn + Like oppos'd Meteors. + + _Ars_. + + Give them line, and way, + My life for _Don Jamie_. + + _Jam_. + + Continue still + The excellent Husband, and joyn Farm to Farm, + Suffer no Lordship, that in a clear day + Falls in the prospect of your covetous eye + To be anothers; forget you are a Grandee; + Take use upon use, and cut the throats of Heirs + With cozening Mortgages: rack your poor Tenants, + Till they look like so many Skeletons + For want of Food; and when that Widows curses, + The ruines of ancient Families, tears of Orphans + Have hurried you to the Devil, ever remember + All was rak'd up for me (your thankful Brother) + That will dance merrily upon your Grave, + And perhaps give a double Pistolet + To some poor needy Frier, to say a Mass + To keep your Ghost from walking. + + _Hen_. + + That the Law + Should force me to endure this! + + _Jam_. + + Verily, + When this shall come to pass (as sure it will) + If you can find a loop-hole, though in Hell, + To look on my behaviour, you shall see me + Ransack your Iron Chests, and once again + _Pluto's_ flame-colour'd Daughter shall be free + To domineer in Taverns, Masques, and Revels + As she was us'd before she was your Captive. + Me thinks the meer conceipt of it, should make you + Go home sick, and distemper'd; if it do's, + I'le send you a Doctor of mine own, and after + Take order for your Funeral. + + _Hen_. + + You have said, Sir, + I will not fight with words, but deeds to tame you, + Rest confident I will, and thou shalt wish + This day thou hadst been dumb.-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Mil_. + + You have given him a heat, + But with your own distemper. + + _Jam_. + + Not a whit, + Now he is from mine eye, I can be merry, + Forget the cause and him: all plagues go with him, + Let's talk of something else: what news is stirring? + Nothing to pass the time? + + _Mil_. + + 'Faith it is said + That the next Summer will determine much + Of that we long have talk'd of, touching the Wars. + + _Lean_. + + What have we to do with them? Let us discourse + Of what concerns our selves. 'Tis now in fashion + To have your Gallants set down in a Tavern, + What the Arch-Dukes purpose is the next spring, and what + Defence my Lords (the States) prepare: what course + The Emperour takes against the encroaching Turk, + And whether his Moony-standards are design'd + For _Persia_ or _Polonia_: and all this + The wiser sort of State-Worms seem to know + Better than their own affairs: this is discourse + Fit for the Council it concerns; we are young, + And if that I might give the Theme, 'twere better + To talk of handsome Women. + + _Mil_. + + And that's one, + Almost as general. + + _Ars_. + + Yet none agree + Who are the fairest. + + _Lean_. + + Some prefer the _French_, + For their conceited Dressings: some the plump + _Italian Bona-Robas_, some the State + That ours observe; and I have heard one swear, + (A merry friend of mine) that once in _London_, + He did enjoy the company of a Gamester, + (A common Gamester too) that in one night + Met him th' _Italian, French_, and _Spanish_ wayes, + And ended in the _Dutch_; for to cool her self, + She kiss'd him drunk in the morning. + + _Fam_. + + We may spare + The travel of our tongues in forraign Nations, + When in _Corduba_, if you dare give credit + To my report (for I have seen her, Gallants) + There lives a Woman (of a mean birth too, + And meanly match'd) whose all-excelling Form + Disdains comparison with any She + That puts in for a fair one, and though you borrow + From every Country of the Earth the best + Of those perfections, which the Climat yields + To help to make her up, if put in Ballance, + This will weigh down the Scale. + + _Lean_. + + You talk of wonders. + + _Jam_. + + She is indeed a wonder, and so kept, + And, as the world deserv'd not to behold + What curious Nature made without a pattern, + Whose Copy she hath lost too, she's shut up, + Sequestred from the world. + + _Lean_. + + Who is the owner + Of such a Jem? I am fire'd. + + _Jam_. + + One _Bartolus_, + A wrangling Advocate. + + _Ars_. + + A knave on Record. + + _Mil_. + + I am sure he cheated me of the best part + Of my Estate. + + _Jam_. + + Some Business calls me hence, + (And of importance) which denies me leisure + To give you his full character: In few words + (Though rich) he's covetous beyond expression, + And to encrease his heap, will dare the Devil, + And all the plagues of darkness: and to these + So jealous, as if you would parallel + Old _Argus_ to him, you must multiply + His Eyes an hundred times: of these none sleep. + He that would charm the heaviest lid, must hire + A better _Mercurie_, than _Jove_ made use of: + Bless your selves from the thought of him and her, + For 'twill be labour lost: So farewel Signiors.-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Ars_. + + _Leandro_? in a dream? wake man for shame. + + _Mil_. + + Trained into a fools paradise with a tale + Of an imagin'd Form. + + _Lea_. + + _Jamie_ is noble, + And with a forg'd Tale would not wrong his Friend, + Nor am I so much fir'd with lust as Envie, + That such a churl as _Bartolus_ should reap + So sweet a harvest, half my State to any + To help me to a share. + + _Ars_. + + Tush do not hope for + Impossibilities. + + _Lea_. + + I must enjoy her, + And my prophetique love tells me I shall, + Lend me but your assistance. + + _Ars_. + + Give it o're. + + _Mil_. + + I would not have thee fool'd. + _Lea_. I have strange Engines + Fashioning here: and _Bartolus_ on the Anvil, + Disswade me not, but help me. + + _Mil_. + + Take your fortune, + If you come off well, praise your wit; if not, + Expect to be the subject of our Laughter. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Octavio, _and_ Jacinta. + + + _Jac_. + + You met _Don Henrique_? + + _Oct_. + + Yes. + + _Jac_. + + What comfort bring you? + Speak cheerfully: how did my letter work + On his hard temper? I am sure I wrote it + So feelingly, and with the pen of sorrow, + That it must force Compunction. + + _Oct_. + + You are cozen'd; + Can you with one hand prop a falling Tower? + Or with the other stop the raging main, + When it breaks in on the usurped shore? + Or any thing that is impossible? + And then conclude that there is some way left, + To move him to compassion. + + _Jac_. + + Is there a Justice + Or thunder (my _Octavio_) and he + Not sunk unto the center? + + _Oct_. + + Good _Jacinta_, + With your long practised patience bear afflictions, + And by provoking call not on Heavens anger, + He did not only scorn to read your letter, + But (most inhumane as he is) he cursed you, + Cursed you most bitterly. + + _Jac_. + + The bad mans charity. + Oh that I could forget there were a Tye, + In me, upon him! or the relief I seek, + (If given) were bounty in him, and not debt, + Debt of a dear accompt! + + _Oct_. + + Touch not that string, + 'Twill but encrease your sorrow: and tame silence, + (The Balm of the oppressed) which hitherto + Hath eas'd your griev'd soul, and preserv'd your fame, + Must be your Surgeon still. + + _Jac_. + + If the contagion + Of my misfortunes had not spread it self + Upon my Son _Ascanio_, though my wants + Were centupli'd upon my self, I could be patient: + But he is so good, I so miserable, + His pious care, his duty, and obedience, + And all that can be wish'd for from a Son, + Discharg'd to me, and I, barr'd of all means + To return any scruple of the debt + I owe him as a Mother, is a Torment, + Too painfull to be born. + + _Oct_. + + I suffer with you, + In that; yet find in this assurance comfort, + High Heaven ordains (whose purposes cannot alter) + + _Enter_ Ascanio. + + Children that pay obedience to their Parents, + Shall never beg their Bread. + + _Jac_. + + Here comes our joy, + Where has my dearest been? + + _Asc_. + + I have made, Mother, + A fortunate voyage and brought home rich prize, + In a few hours: the owners too contented, + From whom I took it. See here's Gold, good store too, + Nay, pray you take it. + + _Jac_. + + Mens Charities are so cold, + That if I knew not, thou wert made of Goodness, + 'Twould breed a jealousie in me by what means, + Thou cam'st by such a sum. + + _Asc_. + + Were it ill got, + I am sure it could not be employed so well, + As to relieve your wants. Some noble friends, + (Rais'd by heavens mercy to me, not my merits) + Bestow'd it on me. + + _Oct_. + + It were a sacriledge + To rob thee of their bounty, since they gave it + To thy use only. + _Jac_. Buy thee brave Cloathes with it + And fit thee for a fortune, and leave us + To our necessities; why do'st thou weep? + + _Asc_. + + Out of my fear I have offended you; + For had I not, I am sure you are too kind, + Not to accept the offer of my service, + In which I am a gainer; I have heard + My tutor say, of all aereal fowl + The Stork's the Embleme of true pietie, + Because when age hath seiz'd upon her dam, + And made unfit for flight, the gratefull young one + Takes her upon his back, provides her food, + Repaying so her tender care of him, + E're he was fit to fly, by bearing her: + Shall I then that have reason and discourse + That tell me all I can doe is too little, + Be more unnatural than a silly bird? + Or feed or cloath my self superfluously, + And know, nay see you want? holy Saints keep me. + + _Jac_. + + Can I be wretched, + And know my self the Mother to such Goodness? + + _Oct_. + + Come let us drie our eyes, we'll have a feast, + Thanks to our little Steward. + + _Jac_. + + And in him, + Believe that we are rich. + + _Asc_. + + I am sure I am, + While I have power to comfort you, and serve you. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Henrique, _and_ Violante. + + _Viol_. + + Is it my fault, _Don Henrique_, or my fate? + What's my offence? I came young to your bed, + I had a fruitfull Mother, and you met me + With equall ardour in your _May_ of blood; + And why then am I barren? + + _Hen_. + + 'Tis not in Man + To yield a reason for the will of Heaven, + Which is inscrutable. + + _Viol_. + + To what use serve + Full fortunes, and the meaner sort of blessings, + When that, which is the Crown of all our wishes, + The period of humane happiness, + One only Child that may possess what's ours, + Is cruelly deni'd us? + + _Hen_. + + 'Tis the curse + Of great Estates to want those Pledges, which + The poor are happy in: They in a Cottage, + With joy, behold the Models of their youth, + And as their Root decaies, those budding Branches + Sprout forth and flourish, to renew their age; + But this is the beginning, not the end + Of misery to me, that 'gainst my will + (Since Heaven denies us Issue of our own) + Must leave the fruit of all my care and travel + To an unthankfull Brother that insults + On my Calamity. + + _Viol_. + + I will rather choose + A Bastard from the Hospital and adopt him, + And nourish him as mine own. + + _Hen_. + + Such an evasion + (My _Violante_) is forbid to us; + Happy the Romane State, where it was lawfull, + (If our own Sons were vicious) to choose one + Out of a vertuous Stock, though of poor Parents, + And make him noble. But the laws of _Spain_, + (Intending to preserve all ancient Houses) + Prevent such free elections; with this, my Brother's + Too well acquainted, and this makes him bold to + Reign o're me, as a Master. + + _Viol_. + + I will fire + The Portion I brought with me, e're he spend + A Royal of it: no Quirck left? no Quiddit + That may defeat him? + + _Hen_. + + Were I but confirmed, + That you would take the means I use with patience, + As I must practise it with my dishonour, + I could lay level with the earth his hopes + That soar above the clouds with expectation + To see me in my grave. + _Viol_. Effect but this, + And our revenge shall be to us a Son + That shall inherit for us. + + _Hen_. + + Do not repent + When 'tis too late. + + _Viol_. + + I fear not what may fall + He dispossess'd that does usurp on all. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + _Actus Secundus. Scena Prima_. + + _Enter_ Leandro, (_with a letter writ out_) Milanes, _and_ Arsenio. + + _Mil_. + + Can any thing but wonder? + + _Lea_. + + Wonder on, + I am as ye see, and, what will follow, Gentlemen? + + _Ars_. + + Why dost thou put on this form? what can this do? + Thou lookest most sillily. + + _Mil_. + + Like a young Clerk, + A half pin'd-puppy that would write for a Royal. + Is this a commanding shape to win a beauty? + To what use, what occasion? + + _Lean_. + + Peace, ye are fools, + More silly than my out-side seems, ye are ignorant; + They that pretend to wonders must weave cunningly. + + _Ars_. + + What manner of access can this get? or if gotten + What credit in her eyes? + + _Lean_. + + Will ye but leave me? + + _Mil_. + + Me thinks a young man and a handsom Gentleman + (But sure thou art lunatick) me thinks a brave man + That would catch cunningly the beams of beauty, + And so distribute 'em unto his comfort, + Should like himself appear, young, high, and buxom, + And in the brightest form. + + _Lean_. + + Ye are cozen'd (Gentlemen) + Neither do I believe this, nor will follow it, + Thus as I am, I will begin my voyage. + When you love, lanch it out in silks and velvets, + I'le love in Serge, and will outgo your Sattins. + To get upon my great horse and appear + The sign of such a man, and trot my measures, + Or fiddle out whole frosty nights (my friends) + Under the window, while my teeth keep tune, + I hold no handsomness. Let me get in, + There trot and fiddle where I may have fair play. + + _Ars_. + + But how get in? + + _Lean_. + + Leave that to me, your patience, + I have some toyes here that I dare well trust to: + I have smelt a Vicar out, they call him _Lopez_. + You are ne're the nearer now. + + _Mil_. + + We do confess it. + + _Lea_. + + Weak simple men, this Vicar to this Lawyer + Is the most inward _Damon_. + + _Ars_. + + What can this do? + + _Mil_. + + We know the fellow, and he dwells there. + + _Lean_. So. + + _Ars_. + + A poor, thin thief: he help? he? hang the Vicar, + Can reading of an ---- prefer thee? + Thou art dead-sick in love, and hee'l pray for thee. + + _Lean_. + + Have patience (Gentlemen) I say this Vicar, + This thing I say is all one with the Close _Bartolus_ + (For so they call the Lawyer) or his nature + Which I have studied by relation: + And make no doubt I shall hit handsomly, + Will I work cunningly, and home: understand me. + + _Enter_ Lopez, _and_ Diego. + + Next I pray leave me, leave me to my fortune + _Difficilia pulchra_, that's my Motto (Gentlemen) + I'le win this Diamond from the rock and wear her, + Or-- + + _Mil_. + + Peace, the Vicar: send ye a full sail, Sir. + + _Ars_. + + There's your Confessor, but what shall be your penance? + + _Lean_. + + A fools head if I fail, and so forsake me. + You shall hear from me daily. + + _Mil_. + + We will be ready. + + [_Exeunt _Mil. Ars. + + _Lop_. + + Thin world indeed! + + _Lean_. + + I'le let him breath and mark him: + No man would think a stranger as I am + Should reap any great commodity from his pigbelly. + + _Lop_. + + Poor stirring for poor Vicars. + _Diego_. And poor Sextons. + + _Lop_. + + We pray and pray, but to no purpose, + Those that enjoy our lands, choak our Devotions. + Our poor thin stipends make us arrant dunces. + + _Diego_. + + If you live miserably, how shall we do (Master) + That are fed only with the sound of prayers? + We rise and ring the Bells to get good stomachs, + And must be fain to eat the ropes with reverence. + + _Lop_. + + When was there a Christning, _Diego_? + + _Diego_. + + Not this ten weeks: + Alas, they have forgot to get children (Master) + The Wars, the Seas, and usurie undoe us, + Takes off our minds, our edges, blunts our plough-shares. + They eat nothing here, but herbs, and get nothing but green sauce: + There are some poor Labourers, that perhaps + Once in seven year, with helping one another, + Produce some few pin'd-Butter-prints, that scarce hold + The christning neither. + + _Lop_. + + Your Gallants, they get Honour, + A strange fantastical Birth, to defraud the Vicar, + And the Camp Christens their Issues, or the Curtizans, + 'Tis a lewd time. + + _Die_. + + They are so hard-hearted here too, + They will not dye, there's nothing got by Burials. + + _Lop_. + + _Diego_, the Air's too pure, they cannot perish. + To have a thin Stipend, and an everlasting Parish, + Lord what a torment 'tis! + + _Die_. + + Good sensible Master, + You are allow'd to pray against all weathers, + (Both foul, and fair, as you shall find occasion) + Why not against all airs? + + _Lop_. + + That's not i'th' Canons. + I would it had, 'tis out of our way forty pence. + + _Die_. + + 'Tis strange, they are starv'd too yet they will not die here, + They will not earth: a good stout plague amongst 'em, + Or half a dozen new fantastical Fevers + That would turn up their heels by whole-sale (Master) + And take the Doctors too, in their grave Counsels, + That there might be no natural help for mony: + How merrily would my Bells goe then? + _Lop_. Peace _Diego_, + The Doctors are our friends, let's please them well. + For though they kill but slow, they are certain, _Diego_, + We must remove into a muddy Air, + A most contagious Climate. + + _Die_. + + We must certain, + An air that is the nursery of agues, + Such agues (Master) that will shake mens souls out, + Ne're stay for Possets, nor good old wives plasters. + + _Lop_. + + Gowts and dead Palsies. + + _Die_. + + The dead do's well at all times, + Yet Gowts will hang an arse a long time (Master) + The Pox, or English Surfeits if we had 'em; + Those are rich marle, they make a Church-yard fat, + And make the Sexton sing, they never miss, Sir. + + _Lop_. + + Then Wills and Funeral Sermons come in season, + And Feasts that make us frolick. + + _Die_. + + Would I could see 'em. + + _Lop_. + + And though I weep i'th' Pulpit for my Brother, + Yet (_Diego_) here I laugh. + + _Die_. + + The cause requires it. + + _Lop_. + + Since people left to die I am dunce, _Diego_. + + _Die_. 'Tis a strange thing, I have forgot to dig too. + + _Lea_. + + A pretious pair of youths! I must make toward'em. + + _Lop_. + + Who's that? look it seems he would speak to us. + I hope a Marriage, or some Will to make, _Diego_. + + _Die_. + + My friend your business? + + _Lea_. + + 'Tis to that grave Gentleman; + Bless your good learning, Sir. + + _Lop_. + + And bless you also, + He bears a promising face, there's some hope toward. + + _Lea_. + + I have a Letter to your worship. + + _Lop_. + + Well Sir, + From whence I pray you? + + _Lea_. + + From _Nova Hispania_, Sir, + And from an ancient friend of yours. + + _Lop_. + + 'Tis well, Sir, + 'Tis very well: the devil a-one I know there. + + _Die_. + + Take heed of a Snap, Sir, h'as a cozening countenance + do not like his way. + + _Lop_. + + Let him goe forward. + _Cantabit vacuus_, They that have nothing fear nothing, + All I have to lose, _Diego_, is my learning, + And when he has gotten that, he may put it in a Nut shell. + + LETTER READ. + + _Signior Lopez, Since my arrival from_ Cordova _to these parts, + I have written divers Letters unto you, but as yet received no + Answer of any_ (Good and very good) _And although so great a + forgetfulness might cause a want in my due correspondence, yet the + desire I have still to serve you must more prevail with me_ (Better + and better: the devil a man know I yet) _and therefore with the + present occasion offered I am willing to crave a continuance of the + favours, which I have heretofore received from you, and do recommend + my Son_ Leandro _the Bearer to you with request that he may + be admitted in that Universitie till such time as I shall arrive at + home; his studies he will make you acquainted withall; This kindness + shall supply the want of your slackness: And so heaven keep you. + + Yours_ + + Alonzo Tiveria. + + _Alonzo Tiveria_, very well, + A very ancient friend of mine, I take it, + For till this hour I never heard his name yet. + + _Lea_. + + You look, Sir, as if ye had forgot my Father. + + _Lop_. + + No, no, I look, as I would remember him, + For that I never remembred, I cannot forget, Sir, + _Alonzo Tiveria_? + + _Lea_. + + The same, Sir. + + _Lop_. + + And now i'th' _Indies_? + + _Lea_. + + Yes. + + _Lop_. + + He may be any where, + For ought that I consider. + + _Lea_. + + Think again, Sir, + You were Students both at one time in _Salamanca_, + And, as I take it, Chamber-fellows. + + _Lop_. + + Ha? + + _Lea_. + + Nay, sure you must remember. + + _Lop_. + + Would I could. + + _Lea_. + + I have heard him say, you were Gossips too. + + _Lop_. + + Very likely, + You did not hear him say, to whom? for we Students + May oft-times over-reach our memories. + Do'st thou remember, _Diego_, this same Signiour? + Thou hast been mine these twenty years. + + _Die_. + + Remember? + Why this Fellow would make ye mad: _Nova Hispania_? + And Signiour _Tiveria_? what are these? + He may as well name ye Friends out of _Cataya_. + Take heed I beseech your worship: do you hear, (my friend?) + You have no Letters for me? + + _Lea_. + + Not any letter, + But I was charged to doe my Fathers love + To the old honest Sexton _Diego_: are you he, Sir? + + _Di[e]_. + + Ha? have I friends, and know 'em not? my name is _Diego_, + But if either I remember you or your Father, + Or _Nova Hispania_ (I was never there Sir) + Or any kindred that you have--for heaven-sake, Master, + Let's cast about a little, and consider, + We may dream out our time. + + _Lea_. + + It seems I am deceiv'd, Sir, + Yet, that you are _Don Lopez_ all men tell me, + The Curate here, and have been some time, Sir, + And you the Sexton _Diego_, such I am sent to, + The letter tells as much: may be they are dead, + And you of the like names succeed: I thank ye Gentlemen, + Ye have done honestly, in telling truth, + I might have been forward else. For to that _Lopez_, + That was my Fathers friend, I had a charge, + (A charge of mony) to deliver (Gentlemen) + Five hundred Duckets, a poor small gratuity, + But since you are not he-- + + _Lop_. + + Good Sir, let me think, + I pray ye be patient, + Pray ye stay a little, + Nay, let me remember, I beseech ye stay, Sir. + + _Die_. + + An honest noble friend, that sends so lovingly; + An old friend too; I shall remember sure, Sir. + + _Lop_. + + Thou sayst true _Diego_. + + _Die_. + + 'Pray ye consider quickly, + Doe, doe, by any means, me thinks already + A grave staid gentleman comes to my memory. + + _Lea_. + + He's old indeed, sir. + + _Die_. + + With a goodly white Beard, + (For now he must be so: I know he must be) + _Signior Alonzo_, Master. + + _Lop_. + + I begin to have him. + + _Die_. + + H'as been from hence, about some twenty years, sir. + + _Lea_. + + Some five and twenty, sir. + + _Die_. + + You say most true, Sir, + Just to an hour; 'tis now just five and twenty, + A fine straight timber'd man, and a brave soldier, + He married: let me see,-- + + _Lea_. + + _De Castro's_ Daughter. + + _Die_. + + The very same. + + _Lea_. + + Thou art a very Rascal. + De _Castro_ is the Turk to thee, or any thing: + The Mony rubbs 'em into strange remembrances, + For as many Duckets more they would remember _Adam_. + + _Lop_. + + Give me your hand, you are welcome to your country, + Now I remember plainly, manifestly, + As freshly, as if yesterdy I had seen him, + Most heartily welcome: sinfull that I am, + Most sinfull man! why should I lose this Gentleman? + This loving old Companion? we had all one soul, sir, + He dwelt here hard by, at a handsome-- + + _Lea_. + + Farm sir, + You say most true. + + _Lop_. + + _Alonzo Tiveria_! + Lord, Lord that time should play the treacherous knave thus! + Why, he was the only friend I had in _Spain_, sir, + I knew your Mother too, a handsome Gentlewoman, + She was married very young: I married 'em: + I do remember now the Maskes and Sports then, + The Fire-works, and the fine delights; good faith, sir, + Now I look in your face, whose eyes are those, _Diego_? + Nay, if he be not just _Alonzo's_ picture-- + + _Lea_. + + Lord, how I blush for these two impudents! + + _Die_. + + Well Gentleman, I think your name's _Leandro_. + + _Lea_. + + It is indeed, sir, + Gra'-mercy letter, thou hadst never known else. + + _Die_. + + I have dandled ye, and kist ye and plaid with ye + A hundred, and a hundred times, and danc'd ye, + And swong ye in my Bell-ropes, ye lov'd swinging. + + _Lop_. + + A sweet Boy. + + _Lea_. + + Sweet lying knaves. + What would these doe for thousands? + + _Lop_. + + A wondrous sweet Boy then it was, see now + Time that consumes us, shoots him up still sweeter. + How do's the noble Gentleman? how fares he? + When shall we see him? when will he bless his Country? + + _Lea_. + + O, very shortly, Sir, till his return + He has sent me over to your charge. + + _Lop_. + + And welcome, + Nay, you shall know you are welcome to your friend, sir. + + _Lea_. + + And to my Study, Sir, which must be the Law. + To further which, he would entreat your care + To plant me in the favour of some man + That's expert in that knowledge: for his pains + I have three hundred Duckets more: For my Diet, + Enough, Sir, to defray me: which I am charged + To take still, as I use it, from your custodie, + I have the mony ready, and I am weary. + + _Lop_. + + Sit down, sit down, and once more ye are most welcome, + The Law you have hit upon most happily, + Here is a Master in that art, _Bartolus_, + A neighbour by, to him I will prefer ye, + A learned man, and my most loving neighbour, + I'le doe ye faithful service, Sir. + + _Die_. + + He's an Ass, + And so wee'll use him; he shall be a Lawyer. + + _Lop_. + + But if ever he recover this mony again--before, _Diego_, + And get some pretty pittance: my Pupill's hungry. + + _Lea_. + + Pray ye Sir, unlade me. + + _Lop_. + + I'le refresh ye Sir; + When ye want, you know your Exchequer. + + _Lea_. + + If all this get me but access, I am happy. + + _Lop_. + + Come, I am tender of ye. + + _Lea_. + + I'le go with ye. + To have this fort betray'd these fools must fleece me. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Bartolus, _and_ Amaranta. + + _Bar_. + + My _Amaranta_, a retir'd sweet life, + Private and close, and still, and houswifely, + Becomes a Wife, sets off the grace of woman. + At home to be believ'd both young, and handsome, + As Lilies that are cas'd in crystall Glasses, + Makes up the wonder: shew it abroad 'tis stale, + And still the more eyes cheapen it 'tis more slubber'd, + And what need windowes open to inviting? + Or evening Tarrasses, to take opinions? + When the most wholsome air (my wife) blows inward, + When good thoughts are the noblest Companions, + And old chast stories, wife, the best discourses; + But why do I talk thus, that know thy nature? + + _Ama_. + + You know your own disease: distrust, and jealousie, + And those two, give these Lessons, not good meaning, + What trial is there of my honestie, + When I am mew'd at home? to what end Husband, + Serves all the vertuous thoughts, and chast behaviours + Without their uses? Then they are known most excellent + When by their contraries they are set off, and burnish'd. + If ye both hold me fair, and chast, and vertuous, + Let me goe fearless out, and win that greatness: + These seeds grow not in shades, and conceal'd places: + Set 'em i'th' heat of all, then they rise glorious. + + _Bar_. + + Peace, ye are too loud. + + _Ama_. + + You are too covetous. + If that be rank'd a vertue, you have a rich one. + Set me (like other Lawyers wives) off handsomely, + Attended as I ought, and as they have it, + My Coach, my people, and my handsome women, + My will in honest things. + + _Bar_. + + Peace _Amaranta_. + + _Ama_. + + They have content, rich clothes, and that secures 'em, + Binds, to their carefull husbands, their observance, + They are merry, ride abroad, meet, laugh. + + _Bar_. + + Thou shalt too. + + _Ama_. + + And freely may converse with proper Gentlemen, + Suffer temptations daily to their honour. + + _Enter_ Woman-Mo[o]re. + + _Bar_. + + You are now too far again: thou shalt have any thing, + Let me but lay up for a handsome Office, + And then my _Amaranta_-- + + _Ama_. + + Here's a thing now, + Ye place as pleasure to me: all my retinue, + My Chamber-maid, my Kitchin-maid, my friend, + And what she fails in, I must doe my self. + A foyle to set my Beauty off, I thank ye, + You will place the Devil next for a Companion. + + _Bar_. + + No more such words, good wife, + What would you have, Maid? + + _Moor_. + + Master Curate, and the Sexton, and a stranger, sir, + Attend to speak with your worship. + + _Bar_. + + A stranger? + + _Ama_. + + You had best to be jealous of the man you know not. + + _Bar_. + + 'Pray thee no more of that. + + _Ama_. + + 'Pray ye goe out to 'em, + That will be safest for ye, I am well here, + I only love your peace, and serve like a slave for it. + + _Bar_. + + No, no, thou shalt not; 'tis some honest Client, + Rich, and litigious, the Curate has brought to me, + Pre'thee goe in (my Duck) I'le but speak to 'em, + And return instantly. + + _Ama_. + + I am commanded, + One day you will know my sufferance.-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Bar_. + + And reward it. + So, so, fast bind, fast find; Come in my neighbours, + My loving neighbours pray ye come in, ye are welcome. + + _Enter_ Lopez, Leandro, _and_ Diego. + + _Lop_. + + Bless your good reverence. + + _Bar_. + + Good-day, good Master Curate, + And neighbour _Diego_, welcom: what's your business? + And 'pray ye be short (good friends) the time is pretious, + Welcom, good Sir. + + _Lop_. + + To be short then with your Mastership, + (For I know your several hours are full of business) + We have brought ye this young-man, of honest parents, + And of an honest face. + + _Bar_. + + It seems so, Neighbours, + But to what end? + + _Lop_. + + To be your Pupil, Sir, + Your Servant, if you please. + + _Lea_. + + I have travell'd far, Sir, + To seek a worthy man. + + _Bar_. + + Alas, good Gentleman, + I am a poor man, and a private too, + Unfit to keep a Servant of your Reckoning; + My house a little Cottage, and scarce able + To hold my self, and those poor few live under it; + Besides, you must not blame me Gentlemen, + If I were able to receive a Servant, + To be a little scrupulous of his dealing, + For in these times-- + + _Lop_. + + 'Pray let me answer that, sir, + Here is five hundred Duckets, to secure him, + He cannot want, Sir, to make good his credit, + Good gold, and coin. + + _Bar_. + + And that's an honest pledge; + Yet sure, that needs not, for his face, and carriage, + Seem to declare an in-bred honesty. + + _Lea_. + + And (for I have a ripe mind to the Law, sir, + In which I understand you live a Master) + The least poor corner in your house, poor Bed, sir, + (Let me not seem intruding to your worship) + With some Books to instruct me, and your counsel, + Shall I rest most content with: other Acquaintance + Than your grave presence, and the grounds of Law + I dare not covet, nor I will not seek, sir, + For surely mine own nature desires privacy. + Next, for your monthly pains (to shew my thanks,) + I do proportion out some twenty Duckets; + As I grow riper, more: three hundred now, sir, + To shew my love to learning, and my Master, + My diet I'le defray too, without trouble. + + _Lop_. + + Note but his mind to learning. + + _Bar_. + + I do strangely, yes, and I like it too, thanks to his mony. + + _Die_. + + Would he would live with me, and learn to dig too. + + _Lop_. + + A wondrous modest man, sir. + + _Bar_. + + So it seems, + His dear love to his Studie must be nourish'd, + Neighbour, he's like to prove. + + _Lop_. + + With your good counsel, + And with your diligence, as you will ply him; + His Parents, when they know your care-- + + _Bar_. + + Come hither. + + _Die_. + + An honester young man, your worship ne're kept, + But he is so bashfull-- + + _Bar_. + + O I like him better. + Say I should undertake ye, which indeed, sir, + Will be no little straitness to my living, + Considering my Affairs, and my small house, sir, + For I see some promises that pull me to ye; + Could you content your self, at first thus meanly, + To lie hard, in an out-part of my house, sir? + For I have not many Lodgings to allow ye; + And studie should be still remote from company; + A little fire sometimes too, to refresh ye; + A Student must be frugal: sometimes Lights too, + According to your labour. + + _Lea_. + + Any thing, Sir, + That's dry, and wholsome: I am no bred-wanton. + + _Bar_. + + Then I receive you: but I must desire ye + To keep within your confines. + + _Lea_. + + Ever Sir, + There's the Gold, and ever be your servant, + Take it and give me Books: may I but prove, sir, + According to my wish, and these shall multiply. + + _Lop_. + + Do, study hard, pray ye take him in, and settle him, + He's only fit for you; Shew him his Cell, sir. + + _Die_. + + Take a good heart; and when ye are a cunning Lawyer, + I'le sell my Bells, and you shall prove it lawfull. + + _Ba_. + + Come, sir, with me: neighbours I thank your diligence. + + _Lop_. + + I'le come sometimes, and crack a case with ye. + + _Bar_. + + Welcome-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Lop_. + + Here's mony got with ease: here, spend that jovially, + And pray for the fool, the Founder. + + _Die_. + + Many more fools + I heartily pray may follow his example, + Lawyers, or Lubbers, or of what condition, + And many such sweet friends in _Nova Hispania_. + + _Lop_. + + It will do well; let 'em but send their monys, + Come from what quarter of the world, I care not, + I'le know 'em instantly; nay I'le be kin to 'em; + I cannot miss a man, that sends me mony: + Let him law there, long as his Duckets last, Boy, + I'le grace him, and prefer him. + + _Die_. + + I'le turn Trade, Master, and now live by the living, + Let the dead stink, 'tis a poor stinking Trade. + + _Lop_. + + If the young fool now + Should chance to chop upon his fair Wife, _Diego_? + + _Die_. + + And handle her Case, Master, that's a law point, + A point would make him start, and put on his Spectacles, + A hidden point, were worth the canvassing. + + _Lop_. + + Now surely, surely, I should love him, _Diego_, + And love him heartily: nay, I should love my self, + Or any thing that had but that good fortune, + For to say truth, the Lawyer is a dog-bolt, + An arrant worm: and though I call him worshipfull, + I wish him a canoniz'd Cuckold, _Diego_, + Now, if my youth do dub him-- + + _Die_. + + He is too demure, Sir. + + _Lop_. + + If he do sting her home. + + _Dieg_. + + There's no such matter, + The woman was not born to so much blessedness, + He has no heat: study consumes his oyl, Master. + + _Lop_. + + Let's leave it to the will of Fate, and presently + Over a cup of lustie Sack, let's prophesie. + I am like a man that dreamt he was an Emperour, + Come _Diego_, hope, and whilst he lasts, we'll lay it on. [_Ex_. + + + + + + SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Jamy, Milanes, Arsenio. + + _Jam_. + + _Angelo, Milanes_, did you see this wonder? + + _Mil_. + + Yes, yes. + + _Jam_. + + And you _Arsenio_? + + _Ars_. + + Yes he's gone, Sir, + Strangely disguis'd, he's set upon his voyage. + Love guide his thoughts: he's a brave honest fellow. + Sit close Don Lawyer, O that arrant knave now, + How he will stink, will smoak again, will burst! + He's the most arrant Beast. + + _Mil_. + + He may be more beast. + + _Jam_. + + Let him bear six, and six, that all may blaze him, + The villany he has sowed into my Brother, + And from his State, the Revenue he has reach'd at: + Pay him, my good _Leandro_, take my prayers. + + _Ars_. + + And all our wishes plough with his fine white heifer. + + _Jam_. + + Mark him (my dear friend) for a famous Cuckold, + Let it out-live his Books, his pains, and hear me, + The more he seeks to smother it with Justice, + + _Enter a_ Servant. + + Let it blaze out the more: what news _Andrea_? + + _Andr_. + + News I am loth to tell ye: but I am charg'd, sir, + Your Brother layes a strict command upon ye, + No more to know his house, upon your danger, + I am sorry, Sir. + + _Jam_. + + Faith never be: I am glad on't, + He keeps the house of pride, and foolery: + I mean to shun it: so return my Answer, + 'Twill shortly spew him out; Come, let's be merry, + And lay our heads together, carefully + How we may help our friend; and let's lodge near him, + Be still at hand: I would not for my patrimony, + But he should crown his Lawyer, a learned Monster; + Come, let's away, I am stark mad till I see him. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + + SCENA IV. + + _Enter_ Bartolus, _and_ Amaranta. + + _Amar_. + + Why will ye bring men in, and yet be jealous? + Why will ye lodge a young man, a man able, + And yet repine? + + _Bar_. + + He shall not trouble thee, sweet, + A modest poor slight thing, did I not tell thee + He was only given to the Book, and for that + How Royally he paies? finds his own meat too. + + _Amar_. + + I will not have him here: I know your courses, + And what fits you will fall into of madness. + + _Bar_. + + 'Faith, I will not, Wife. + + _Amar_. + + I will not try ye. + + _Bar_. + + He comes not near thee: shall not dare to tread + Within thy Lodgings: in an old out-Room + Where Logs, and Coles were laid. + + _Amar_. + + Now ye lay fire; fire to consume your quiet. + + _Bar_. + + Didst thou know him, + Thou wouldst think as I do: he disquiet thee? + Thou mayst wear him next thy heart, and yet not warm him. + His mind (poor man) 's o'th' Law, how to live after, + And not on lewdness: on my Conscience + He knows not how to look upon a Woman + More than by reading what Sex she is. + + _Amar_. + + I do not like it, Sir. + + _Bar_. + + Do'st thou not see (Fool) + What presents he sends hourly in his gratefulness? + What delicate meats? + + _Amar_. + + You had best trust him at your Table, + Do, and repent it, do. + + _Bar_. + + If thou be'st willing, + By my troth, I think he might come, he's so modest, + He never speaks: there's part of that he gave me, + He'll eat but half a dozen bits, and rise immediately, + Even as he eats, he studies: he'll not disquiet thee, + Do as thou pleasest, Wife. + + _Amar_. + + What means this Wood-cock? + + [_Knock within_. + + _Bar_. + + Retire, Sweet, there's one knocks: come in, your business. + + _Enter_ Servant. + + _Ser_. + + My Lord, _Don Henrique_, would entreat ye, Sir, + To come immediately, and speak with him, + He has business of some moment. + + _Bar_. + + I'le attend him, + I must be gone: I pre'thee think the best, Wife, + At my return, I'le tell thee more, good morrow; + Sir, keep ye close, and study hard: an hour hence + I'le read a new Case to ye.-- + + [_Exit_. + + [Leandro _within_.] + + _Lean_. + + I'le be ready. + + _Amar_. + + So many hundred Duckets, to ly scurvily? + And learn the pelting Law? this sounds but slenderly, + But very poorly: I would see this fellow, + Very fain see him, how he looks: I will find + To what end, and what study: there's the place: + I'le go o'th' other side, and take my Fortune. + I think there is a window. + + [_Exit_. + + _Enter_ Leandro. + + _Lean_. + + He's gone out + Now, if I could but see her: she is not this way: + How nastily he keeps his house! my Chamber, + If I continue long, will choak me up, + It is so damp: I shall be mortified + For any woma[n], if I stay a month here: + I'le in, and strike my Lute, that sound may call her. + + [_Exit_. + + Lute _and_ Song. + + 1. + + _Dearest do not you delay me, + Since thou knowest I must be gone; + Wind and Tide 'tis thought doth stay me, + But 'tis wind that must be blown + From that breath, whose native smell + Indian Odours far excel_. + + 2. + + _Oh then speak thou fairest fair, + Kill not him that vows to serve thee, + But perfume this neighbouring Air; + Else dull silence sure will starve me: + 'Tis a word that's quickly spoken, + Which being restrained a heart is broken_. + + + _Enter_ Amaranta. + + _Amar_. + + He keeps very close: Lord, how I long to see him! + A Lute strook handsomely, a voice too; I'le hear that: + These Verses are no Law, they sound too sweetly, + Now I am more desirous. + + [Leandro _peeping_. + + _Lean_. + + 'Tis she certain. + + _Amar_. + + What's that that peeps? + + _Lean_. + + O admirable face! + + _Amar_. + + Sure 'tis the man. + + _Lean_. + + I will go out a little. + + _Amar_. + + He looks not like a fool, his face is noble: + How still he stands! + + _Lean_. + + I am strucken dumb with wonder, + Sure all the Excellence of Earth dwells here. + + _Amar_. + + How pale he looks! yet, how his eyes like torches, + Fling their beams round: how manly his face shews! + He comes on: surely he will speak: he is made most handsomly: + This is no Clerk behaviour; now I have seen ye, + I'le take my time: Husband, ye have brought home tinder. + + [_Exit_. + + _Lean_. + + Sure she has transform'd me, + I had forgot my tongue clean, + I never saw a face yet, but this rare one, + But I was able boldly to encounter it, + And speak my mind, my lips were lockt up here. + This is divine, and only serv'd with reverence; + O most fair cover of a hand far fairer, + Thou blessed Innocence, that guards that whiteness, + Live next my heart. I am glad I have got a relick, + + [_A noise within_] + + A relick when I pray to it, may work wonders. + Hark, there's some noise: I must retire again. + This blessed Apparition makes me happy; + I'le suffer, and I'le sacrifice my substance, + But I'le enjoy: now softly to my Kennel. + + [_Exit_. + + + + + + _Actus Tertius. Scena Prima_. + + _Enter_ Henrique, _and_ Bartolus. + + _Hen_. + + You know my cause sufficiently? + + _Bar_. + + I do Sir. + + _Hen_. + + And though it will impair my honesty, + And strike deep at my Credit, yet, my _Bartolus_, + There being no other evasion left to free me + From the vexation of my spightful Brother, + That most insultingly raigns over me, + I must and will go forward. + + _Bar_. + + Do, my Lord, + And look not after credit, we shall cure that, + Your bended honesty we shall set right, Sir, + We Surgeons of the Law do desperate Cures, Sir, + And you shall see how heartily I'le handle it: + Mark how I'le knock it home: be of good chear, Sir, + You give good Fees, and those beget good Causes, + The Prerogative of your Crowns will carry the matter, + (Carry it sheer) the _Assistant_ sits to morrow, + And he's your friend, your monyed men love naturally, + And as your loves are clear, so are your Causes. + + _Hen_. + + He shall not want for that. + + _Bar_. + + No, no, he must not, + Line your Cause warmly, Sir, the times are Aguish, + That holds a Plea in heart; hang the penurious, + Their Causes (like their purses) have poor Issues. + + _Hen_. + + That way, I was ever bountiful. + + _Bar_. + + 'Tis true, Sir, + That makes ye fear'd, forces the Snakes to kneel to ye, + Live full of mony, and supply the Lawyer, + And take your choice of what mans lands you please, Sir, + What pleasures, or what profits; what revenges, + They are all your own: I must have witnesses + Enough, and ready. + + _Hen_. + + You shall not want, my _Bartolus_. + + _Bar_. + + Substantial fearless souls, that will swear suddenly, + That will swear any thing. + + _Hen_. + + They shall swear truth too. + + _Bar_. + + That's no great matter: for variety + They may swear truth, else 'tis not much look'd after: + I will serve Process, presently, and strongly, + Upon your Brother, and _Octavio_, + _Jacintha_, and the Boy; provide your proofs, Sir, + And set 'em fairly off, be sure of Witnesses, + Though they cost mony, want no store of witnesses, + I have seen a handsome Cause so foully lost, Sir, + So beastly cast away for want of Witnesses. + + _Hen_. + + There shall want nothing. + + _Bar_. + + Then be gone, be provident, + Send to the Judge a secret way: you have me, + And let him understand the heart. + + _Hen_. + + I shall, Sir. + + _Bar_. + + And feel the pulses strongly beat, I'le study, + And at my hour, but mark me, go, be happy, + Go and believe i'th' Law. + + _Hen_. + + I hope 'twill help me. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + + SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Lopez, Diego, _and four_ Parishioners _and_ Singers. + + _Lop_. + + Ne're talk to me, I will not stay amongst ye, + Debaush'd and ignorant lazie knaves I found ye, + And fools I leave ye. I have taught these twenty years, + Preacht spoon-meat to ye, that a Child might swallow, + Yet ye are Block-heads still: what should I say to ye? + Ye have neither faith, nor mony left to save ye, + Am I a fit companion for such Beggers? + + 1. + + If the Shepheard will suffer the sheep to be scab'd, Sir-- + + _Lop_. + + No, no ye are rotten. + + _Die_. + + Would they were, for my sake. + + _Lap_. + + I have Nointed ye, and Tarr'd ye with my Doctrine, + And yet the Murren sticks to ye, yet ye are Mangy, + I will avoid ye. + + 2. + + Pray ye, Sir, be not angry, + In the pride of your new Cassock, do not part with us, + We do acknowledge ye are a careful Curate, + And one that seldom troubles us with Sermons, + A short slice of a Reading serves us, Sir, + We do acknowledge ye a quiet Teacher, + Before you'll vex your Audience, you'll sleep with 'em, + And that's a loving thing. + + 3. + + We grant ye, Sir, + The only benefactor to our Bowling, + To all our merry Sports the first provoker, + And at our Feasts, we know there is no reason, + But you that edifie us most, should eat most. + + _Lop_. + + I will not stay for all this, ye shall know me + A man born to a more beseeming fortune + Than ringing all-in, to a rout of Dunces. + + 4. + + We will increase your Tithes, you shall have Eggs too, + Though they may prove most dangerous to our Issues. + + 1. + + I am a Smith; yet thus far out of my love, + You shall have the tenth Horse I prick, to pray for, + I am sure I prick five hundred in a year, Sir. + + 2. + + I am a Cook, a man of a dri'd Conscience, + Yet thus far I relent: you shall have tith Pottage. + + 3. + + Your stipend shall be rais'd too, good Neighbour _Diego_. + + _Die._ + + Would ye have me speak for ye? I am more angry, + Ten times more vex'd, not to be pacified: + No, there be other places for poor Sextons, + Places of profit, Friends, fine stirring places, + And people that know how to use our Offices, + Know what they were made for: I speak for such Capons? + Ye shall find the Key o'th' Church + Under the door, Neighbours, + You may go in, and drive away the Dawes. + + _Lop_. + + My Surpless, with one sleeve, you shall find there, + For to that dearth of Linnen you have driven me; + And the old Cutwork Cope, that hangs by Geometry: + 'Pray ye turn 'em carefully, they are very tender; + The remnant of the Books, lie where they did, Neighbours, + Half puft away with the Church-wardens pipings, + Such smoaky zeals they have against hard places. + The Poor-mans Box is there too: if ye find any thing + Beside the Posie, and that half rub'd out too, + For fear it should awake too much charity, + Give it to pious uses, that is, spend it. + + _Die_. + + The Bell-ropes, they are strong enough to hang ye, + So we bequeath ye to your destiny. + + 1. + + 'Pray ye be not so hasty. + + _Die_. + + I'le speak a proud word to ye, + Would ye have us stay? + + _2._. + + We do most heartily pray ye. + + _3._. + + I'le draw as mighty drink, Sir. + + _Lop_. + + A strong motive, + The stronger still, the more ye come unto me. + _3._. And I'le send for my Daughter. + + _Lop_. + + This may stir too: + The Maiden is of age, and must be edified. + + _4._. + + You shall have any thing: lose our learned Vicar? + And our most constant friend; honest dear _Diego_? + + _Die_. + + Yet all this will not do: I'le tell ye, Neighbours, + And tell ye true, if ye will have us stay, + If you will have the comforts of our companies, + You shall be bound to do us right in these points, + You shall be bound, and this the obligation, + Dye when 'tis fit, that we may have fit duties, + And do not seek to draw out our undoings, + Marry try'd Women, that are free, and fruitful, + Get Children in abundance, for your Christnings, + Or suffer to be got, 'tis equal justice. + + _Lop_. + + Let Weddings, Christnings, Churchings, Funerals, + And merry Gossippings go round, go round still, + Round as a Pig, that we may find the profit. + + _Die_. + + And let your old men fall sick handsomely, + And dye immediately, their Sons may shoot up: + Let Women dye o'th' Sullens too, 'tis natural, + But be sure their Daughters be of age first, + That they may stock us still: your queazie young Wives + That perish undeliver'd, I am vext with, + And vext abundantly, it much concerns me, + There's a Child's Burial lost, look that be mended. + + _Lop_. + + Let 'em be brought to Bed, then dye when they please. + These things considered, Country-men, and sworn to. + + 2. + + All these, and all our Sports again, and Gambols. + + 3. + + We must dye, and we must live, and we'll be merry, + Every man shall be rich by one another. + + 2. + + We are here to morrow and gone to day, for my part + If getting Children can befriend my Neighbours, + I'le labour hard but I'le fill your Font, Sir. + + 1. + + I have a Mother now, and an old Father, + They are as sure your own, within these two months-- + + 4. + + My Sister must be pray'd for too, she is desperate, + Desperate in love. + + _Die_. + + Keep desperate men far from her, + Then 'twill go hard: do you see how melancholy? + Do you mark the man? do you profess ye love him? + And would do any thing to stay his fury? + And are ye unprovided to refresh him, + To make him know your loves? fie Neighbours. + + 2. + + We'll do any thing. + We have brought Musick to appease his spirit, + And the best Song we'll give him. + + _Die_. + + 'Pray ye sit down, Sir, + They know their duties now, and they stand ready + To tender their best mirth. + + _Lop_. + + 'Tis well, proceed Neighbours, + I am glad I have brought ye to understand good manners, + Ye had Puritan hearts a-while, spurn'd at all pastimes, + But I see some hope now. + + _Die_. + + We are set, proceed Neighbours. + + SONG. + + 1 + + + _Let the Bells ring, and let the Boys sing, + The young Lasses skip and play, + Let the Cups go round, till round goes the ground, + Our Learned old Vicar will stay_. + + 2 + + _Let the Pig turn merrily, merrily ah, + And let the fat Goose swim, + For verily, verily, verily ah, + Our Vicar this day shall be trim_. + + 3 + + _The stewed Cock shall Crow, Cock-a-loodle-loo, + A loud Cock-a-loodle shall he Crow; + The Duck and the Drake, shall swim in a lake + Of Onions and Claret below_. + + 4 + + _Our Wives shall be neat, to bring in our meat; + To thee our most noble adviser, + Our pains shall be great, and Bottles shall sweat, + And we our selves will be wiser_. + + 5 + + _We'll labour and swinck, we'll kiss and we'll drink, + And Tithes shall come thicker and thicker; + We'll fall to our Plow, and get Children enough, + And thou shalt be learned old Vicar_. + + _Enter_ Arsenio _and_ Milanes. + + _Ars_. + + What ails this Priest? how highly the thing takes it! + + _Mil_. + + Lord how it looks! has he not bought some Prebend? + _Leandro's_ mony makes the Rascal merry, + Merry at heart; he spies us. + + _Lop_. + + Be gone Neighbours, + Here are some Gentlemen: be gone good Neighbours, + Be gone, and labour to redeem my favour, + No more words, but be gone: these two are Gentlemen, + No company for crusty-handed fellows. + + _Die_. + + We will stay for a year or two, and try ye. + + _Lop_. + + Fill all your hearts with joy, we will stay with ye, + Be gone, no more; I take your pastimes graciously. + + [_Exeunt Parishioners_. + + Would ye with me, my friends? + + _Ars_. + + We would look upon ye, + For me thinks ye look lovely. + + _Lop_. + + Ye have no Letters? + Nor any kind Remembrances? + + _Mil_. + + Remembrances? + + _Lop_. + + From _Nova Hispania_, or some part remote, Sir, + You look like Travel'd men: may be some old friends + That happily I have forgot; some Signiours + In _China_ or _Cataya_; some Companions-- + + _Die_. + + In the _Moguls_ Court, or else-where. + + _Ars_. + + They are mad sure. + + _Lop_. + + Ye came not from _Peru_? do they look, _Diego_, + As if they had some mystery about 'em? + Another _Don Alonzo_ now? + + _Die_. + + I marry, + And so much mony, Sir, from one you know not, + Let it be who it will. + + _Lop_. + + They have gracious favours. + Would ye be private? + _Mil_. There's no need on't, Sir, + We come to bring ye a Remembrance from a Merchant. + + _Lop_. + + 'Tis very well, 'tis like I know him. + + _Ars_. + + No, Sir, + I do not think ye do. + + _Lop_. + + A new mistake, _Diego_, + Let's carry it decently. + + _Ars_. + + We come to tell ye, + You have received great sums from a young Factor + They call _Leandro_, that has rob'd his Master, + Rob'd him, and run away. + + _Die_. + + Let's keep close, Master; + This news comes from a cold Country. + + _Lop_. + + By my faith it freezes. + + _Mil_. + + Is not this true? do you shrink now good-man Curat? + Do I not touch ye? + + _Lop_. + + We have a hundred Duckets + Yet left, we do beseech ye, Sir-- + + _Mil_. + + You'll hang both. + + _Lop_. + + One may suffice. + + _Die_. + + I will not hang alone, Master, + I had the least part, you shall hang the highest. + Plague o' this _Tiveria_, and the Letter, + The Devil sent it post, to pepper us, + From _Nova Hispania_, we shall hang at home now. + + _Ars_. + + I see ye are penitent, and I have compassion: + Ye are secure both; do but what we charge ye, + Ye shall have more gold too, and he shall give it, + Yet ne're indanger ye. + + _Lop_. + + Command us, Master, + Command us presently, and see how nimbly-- + + _Die_. + + And if we do not handsomely endeavour-- + + _Ars_. + + Go home, and till ye hear more, keep private, + Till we appear again, no words, Vicar, + There's something added. + + _Mil_. + + For you too. + + _Lop_. + + We are ready. + + _Mil_. + + Go and expect us hourly, if ye falter, + Though ye had twenty lives-- + + _Die_. + + We are fit to lose 'em. + + _Lop_. + + 'Tis most expedient that we should hang both. + + _Die_. + + If we be hang'd, we cannot blame our fortune. + + _Mil_. + + Farewel, and be your own friends. + + _Lop_. + + We expect ye.-- + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Octavio, Jacintha, _and_ Ascanio. + + _Octa_. + + We cited to the Court! + + {_A Bar, Table-book, 2 Chairs, and Paper, standish set out. + + _Jac_. + + It is my wonder. + + _Octa_. + + But not our fear, _Jacintha_; wealthy men, + That have Estates to lose; whose conscious thoughts + Are full of inward guilt, may shake with horrour + To have their Actions sifted, or appear + Before the Judge. But we that know our selves + As innocent, as poor, that have no Fleece + On which the Talons of the griping Law + Can take sure hold, may smile with scorn on all + That can be urg'd against us. + + _Jac_. + + I am confident + There is no man so covetous, that desires + To ravish our wants from us, and less hope + There can be so much Justice left on earth, + (T[h]ough sued, and call'd upon) to ease us of + The burthen of our wrongs. + + _Octa_. + + What thinks _Ascanio_? + Should we be call'd in question, or accus'd + Unjustly, what would you do to redeem us + From tyrannous oppression? + + _Asc_. + + I could pray + To him that ever has an open ear, + To hear the innocent, and right their wrongs; + Nay, by my troth, I think I could out-plead + An Advocate, and sweat as much as he + Do's for a double Fee, ere you should suffer + In an honest cause. + + _Enter_ Jamie _and_ Bartolus. + + _Octa_. + + Happy simplicitie! + + _Jac_. + + My dearest and my best one, _Don Jamie_. + + _Octa_. + + And the Advocate, that caus'd us to be summon'd. + + _Asc_. + + My Lord is mov'd, I see it in his looks, + And that man, in the Gown, in my opinion + Looks like a proguing Knave. + + _Jac_. + + Peace, give them leave. + + _Jam_. + + Serve me with Process? + + _Bar_. + + My Lord, you are not lawless. + + _Jam_. + + Nor thou honest; + One, that not long since was the buckram Scribe, + That would run on mens errands for an Asper, + And from such baseness, having rais'd a Stock + To bribe the covetous Judge, call'd to the Bar. + So poor in practice too, that you would plead + A needy Clyents Cause, for a starv'd Hen, + Or half a little Loin of Veal, though fly-blown, + And these, the greatest Fees you could arrive at + For just proceedings; but since you turn'd Rascal-- + + _Bar_. + + Good words, my Lord. + + _Jam_. + + And grew my Brothers Bawd, + In all his vitious courses, soothing him + In his dishonest practises, you are grown + The rich, and eminent Knave, in the Devils name, + What am I cited for? + + _Bar_. + + You shall know anon, + And then too late repent this bitter language, + Or I'll miss of my ends. + + _Jam_. + + Were't not in Court, + I would beat that fat of thine, rais'd by the food + Snatch'd from poor Clyents mouths, into a jelly: + I would (my man of Law) but I am patient, + And would obey the Judge. + + _Bar_. + + 'Tis your best course: + Would every enemy I have would beat me, + I would wish no better Action. + + _Octa_. + + 'Save your Lordship. + + _Asc_. + + My humble service. + + _Jam_. + + My good Boy, how dost thou? + Why art thou call'd into the Court? + + _Enter_ Assistant, Henrique, Officer, _and_ Witnesses. + + _Asc_. + + I know not, + But 'tis my Lord the Assistants pleasure + I should attend here. + + _Jam_. + + He will soon resolve us. + + _Offi_. + + Make way there for the Judge. + + _Jam_. + + How? my kind Brother? + Nay then 'tis rank: there is some villany towards. + + _Assist_. + + This Sessions purchas'd at your suit, _Don Henrique_, + Hath brought us hither, to hear and determine + Of what you can prefer. + + _Hen_. + + I do beseech + The honourable Court, I may be heard + In my Advocate. + + _Assist_. + + 'Tis granted. + + _Bar_. + + Humh, humh. + + _Jam_. + + That Preface, + If left out in a Lawyer, spoils the Cause, + Though ne're so good, and honest. + + _Bar_. + + If I stood here, + To plead in the defence of an ill man, + (Most equal Judge) or to accuse the innocent + (To both which, I profess my self a stranger) + It would be requisite I should deck my Language + With Tropes and Figures, and all flourishes + That grace a Rhetorician, 'tis confess'd + Adulterate Metals need the Gold-smiths Art, + To set 'em off; what in it self is perfect + Contemns a borrowed gloss: this Lord (my Client) + Whose honest cause, when 'tis related truly, + Will challenge justice, finding in his Conscience + A tender scruple of a fault long since + By him committed, thinks it not sufficient + To be absolv'd of't by his Confessor, + If that in open Court he publish not + What was so long conceal'd. + + _Jam_. + + To what tends this? + + _Bar_. + + In his young years (it is no miracle + That youth, and heat of blood, should mix together) + He look'd upon this woman, on whose face + The ruines yet remain, of excellent form, + He look'd on her, and lov'd her. + + _Jac_. + + You good Angels, + What an impudence is this? + + _Bar_. + + And us'd all means + Of Service, Courtship, Presents, that might win her + To be at his devotion: but in vain; + Her Maiden Fort, impregnable held out, + Until he promis'd Marriage; and before + These Witnesses a solemn Contract pass'd + To take her as his Wife. + + _Assist_. + + Give them their Oath. + + _Jam_. + + They are incompetent Witnesses, his own Creatures, + And will swear any thing for half a Royal. + + _Offi_. + + Silence. + + _Assist_. + + Proceed. + + _Bar_. + + Upon this strong assurance + He did enjoy his wishes to the full, + Which satisfied, and then with eyes of Judgement + (Hood-wink'd with Lust before) considering duly + The inequality of the Match, he being + Nobly descended, and allyed, but she + Without a name, or Family, secretly + He purchas'd a Divorce, to disanul + His former Contract, Marrying openly + The Lady _Violante_. + + _Jac_. + + As you sit here + The Deputy of the great King, who is + The Substitute of that impartial Judge, + With whom, or wealth, or titles prevail nothing, + Grant to a much wrong'd Widow, or a Wife + Your patience, with liberty to speak + In her own Cause, and let me face to face + To this bad man, deliver what he is: + And if my wrongs, with his ingratitude ballanc'd, + Move not compassion, let me die unpitied; + His Tears, his Oaths, his Perjuries, I pass o're; + To think of them is a disease; but death + Should I repeat them. I dare not deny, + (For Innocence cannot justifie what's false) + But all the Advocate hath alledged concerning + His falshood, and my shame, in my consent, + To be most true: But now I turn to thee, + To thee _Don Henrique_, and if impious Acts + Have left thee blood enough to make a blush, + I'le paint it on thy cheeks. Was not the wrong + Sufficient to defeat me of mine honour, + To leave me full of sorrow, as of want, + The witness of thy lust left in my womb, + To testifie thy falshood, and my shame? + But now so many years I had conceal'd + Thy most inhumane wickedness, and won + This Gentleman, to hide it from the world, + To Father what was thine (for yet by Heaven, + Though in the City he pass'd for my husband, + He never knew me as his wife.) + + _Assist_. + + 'Tis strange: + Give him an Oath. + + _Oct_. + + I gladly swear, and truly. + + _Jac_. + + After all this (I say) when I had born + These wrongs, with Saint-like patience, saw another + Freely enjoy, what was (in Justice) mine, + Yet still so tender of thy rest and quiet, + I never would divulge it, to disturb + Thy peace at home; yet thou most barbarous, + To be so careless of me, and my fame, + (For all respect of thine in the first step + To thy base lust, was lost) in open Court + To publish my disgrace? and on record, + To write me up an easie-yielding wanton? + I think can find no precedent: In my extreams, + One comfort yet is left, that though the Law + Divorce me from thy bed, and made free way + To the unjust embraces of another, + It cannot yet deny that this thy Son + (Look up _Ascanio_ since it is come out) + Is thy legitimate heir. + + _Jam_. + + Confederacie! + A trick (my Lord) to cheat me; e're you give + Your Sentence, grant me hearing. + + _Assist_. + + New Chimera's? + + _Jam_. + + I am (my Lord) since he is without Issue, + Or hope of any, his undoubted heir, + And this forg'd by the Advocate, to defeat me + Of what the laws of _Spain_ confer upon me, + A meer Imposture, and conspiracie + Against my future fortunes. + + _Assist_. + + You are too bold. + Speak to the cause _Don Henrique_. + + _Hen_. + + I confess, + (Though the acknowledgment must wound mine honour,) + That all the Court hath heard touching this Cause, + (Or with me, or against me) is most true: + The later part my Brother urg'd, excepted: + For what I now doe, is not out of Spleen + (As he pretends) but from remorse of conscience + And to repair the wrong that I have done + To this poor woman: And I beseech your Lordship + To think I have not so far lost my reason, + To bring into my familie, to succeed me, + The stranger--Issue of anothers Bed, + By proof, this is my Son, I challenge him, + Accept him, and acknowledge him, and desire + By a definitive Sentence of the Court, + He may be so recorded, and full power + To me, to take him home. + + _Jac_. + + A second rape + To the poor remnant of content that's left me, + If this be granted: and all my former wrongs + Were but beginnings to my miseries, + But this the height of all: rather than part + With my _Ascanio_, I'le deny my oath, + Profess my self a Strumpet, and endure + What punishment soe're the Court decrees + Against a wretch that hath forsworn her self, + Or plai'd the impudent whore. + + _Assist_. + + This tastes of passion, + And that must not divert the course of Justice; + _Don Henrique_, take your Son, with this condition + You give him maintenance, as becomes his birth, + And 'twill stand with your honour to doe something + For this wronged woman: I will compel nothing, + But leave it to your will. Break up the Court: + It is in vain to move me; my doom's pass'd, + And cannot be revok'd.-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Hen_. + + There's your reward. + + _Bar_. + + More causes, and such Fees. Now to my Wife, + I have too long been absent: Health to your Lordship. + + [_Exit_. + + _Asc_. + + You all look strangely, and I fear believe + This unexpected fortune makes me proud, + Indeed it do's not: I shall ever pay you + The duty of a son, and honour you + Next to my Father: good my Lord, for yet + I dare not call you, uncle, be not sad, + I never shall forget those noble favours + You did me being a stranger, and if ever + I live to be the master of a fortune, + You shall command it. + + _Jam_. + + Since it was determin'd + I should be cozen'd, I am glad the profit + Shall fall on thee, I am too tough to melt, + But something I will do. + + _Hen_. + + 'Pray you take leave + Of your steward (gentle Brother) the good husband + That takes up all for you. + + _Jam_. + + Very well, mock on, + It is your turn: I may have mine-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Oct_. + + But do not + Forget us, dear _Ascanio_. + + _Asc_. + + Do not fear it, + I every day will see you: every hour + Remember you in my prayers. + + _Oct_. + + My grief's too great + To be expressed in words-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Hen_. + + Take that and leave us, + + [_gives mony to Jacinta_. + + Leave us without reply, nay come back sirrah + And study to forget such things as these + As are not worth the knowledge. + + [Asca. _offers to follow_. + + _Asc_. + + O good Sir, + These are bad principles-- + + _Hen_. + + Such as you must learn + Now you are mine, for wealth and poverty + Can hold no friendship: and what is my will + You must observe and do, though good or ill. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + + SCENA IV. + + _Enter_ Bartolus. + + _Bar_. + + Where is my wife? 'fore heaven, I have done wonders, + Done mighty things to day, my _Amaranta_, + My heart rejoyces at my wealthy Gleanings, + A rich litigious Lord I love to follow, + A Lord that builds his happiness on brawlings, + O 'tis a blessed thing to have rich Clyents, + Why, wife I say, how fares my studious Pupil? + Hard at it still? ye are too violent, + All things must have their rests, they will not last else, + Come out and breathe. [Leandro _within_. + + _Lean_. + + I do beseech you pardon me, + I am deeply in a sweet point Sir. + + _Bar_. + + I'le instruct ye: + + _Enter_ Amaranta. + + I say take breath, seek health first, then your study. + O my sweet soul, I have brought thee golden birds home, + Birds in abundance: I have done strange wonders: + There's more a hatching too. + + _Am_. + + Have ye done, good husband? + Then 'tis a good day spent. + + _Bar_. + + Good enough chicken, + I have spread the nets o'th' law, to catch rich booties, + And they come fluttering in: how do's my Pupil? + My modest thing, hast thou yet spoken to him? + + _Am_. + + As I past by his chamber I might see him, + But he is so bookish. + + _Bar_. + + And so bashfull too, + I' faith he is, before he will speak, he will starve there. + + _Am_. + + I pitie him a little. + + _Bar_. + + So do I too. + + _Am_. + + And if he please to take the air o'th' gardens, + Or walk i'th' inward rooms, so he molest not-- + + _Bar_. + + He shall not trouble thee, he dare not speak to thee. + + _Enter_ Moor, _with Chesse-board_. + + Bring out the Chesse-board,--come let's have a game wife, + I'le try your masterie, you say you are cunning. + + _Am_. + + As learned as ye are, Sir, I shall beat ye. + + _Enter_ Leandro. + + _Bar_. + + Here he steals out, put him not out of countenance, + Prethee look another way, he will be gone else + Walk and refresh your self, I'll be with you presently. + + _Lean_. + + I'le take the air a little. [_Play at chess_. + + _Bar_. + + 'Twill be healthfull. + + _Am_. + + Will ye be there? then here? I'le spare ye that man. + + _Lea_. + + Would I were so near too, and a mate fitting. + + _Am_. + + What think ye, Sir, to this I have at your Knight now. + + _Bar_. + + 'Twas subtilly play'd: your Queen lies at my service. + Prethee look off, he is ready to pop in again, + Look off I say, do'st thou not see how he blushes? + + _Am_. + + I do not blast him. + + _Lean_. + + But ye do, and burn too, + What killing looks she steals! + + _Bar_. + + I have you now close, + Now for a Mate. + + _Lean_. + + You are a blessed man that may so have her. + Oh that I might play with her-- + + [_knock within_. + + _Bar_. + + Who's there? I come, you cannot scape me now wife. + I come, I come. + + [_knock_. + + _Lean_. + + Most blessed hand that calls him. + + _Bar_. + + Play quickly wife. + + _Am_. + + 'Pray ye give leave to think, Sir. + + _Enter_ Moor. + + _Moor_. + + An honest neighbour that dwells hard by, Sir, + Would fain speak with your worship about business. + + _Lean_. + + The devil blow him off. + + _Bar_. + + Play. + + _Am_. + + I will study: + For if you beat me thus, you will still laugh at me--[_knock_. + + _Bar_. + + He knocks again; I cannot stay. _Leandro_, + 'Pray thee come near. + + _Lean_. + + I am well, Sir, here. + + _Bar_. + + Come hither: + Be not afraid, but come. + + _Am_. + + Here's none will bite, Sir. + + _Lean_. + + God forbid Lady. + + _Am_. + + 'Pray come nearer. + + _Lean_. + + Yes forsooth. + + _Bar_. + + 'Prethee observe these men: just as they stand here, + And see this Lady do not alter 'em, + And be not partial, Pupil. + + _Lean_. + + No indeed Sir. + + _Bar_. + + Let her not move a pawn, I'le come back presently, + Nay you shall know I am a Conquerour. + Have an eye Pupil-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Am_. + + Can ye play at Chess Sir? + + _Lean_. + + A little, Lady. + + _Am_. + + But you cannot tell me + How to avoid this Mate, and win the Game too; + H'as noble eyes: ye dare not friend me so far. + + _Lean_. + + I dare do any thing that's in mans power Lady, + To be a friend to such a noble beauty. + + _Am_. + + This is no Lawyers language: I pray ye tell me, + Whither may I remove, Ye see I am set round, + To avoid my husband? + + _Lean_. + + I shall tell ye happily, + But happily you will not be instructed. + + _Am_. + + Yes, and thank ye too, shall I move this man? + + _Lean_. + + Those are unseemly: move one can serve ye, + Can honour ye, can love ye. + + _Am_. + + 'Pray ye tell quickly, + He will return, and then. + + _Lean_. + + I'le tell ye instantly, + Move me, and I will move any way to serve ye, + Move your heart this way, Lady. + + _Am_. + + How? + + _Lean_. + + 'Pray ye hear me. + Behold the sport of love, when he is imperious, + Behold the slave of love. + + _Am_. + + Move my Queen this way? + Sure, he's some worthy man: then if he hedge me, + Or here to open him. + + _Lean_. + + Do but behold me, + If there be pity in you, do but view me, + But view the misery I have undertaken + For you, the povertie. + + _Am_. + + He will come presently. + Now play your best Sir, though I lose this Rook here, + Yet I get libertie. + + _Lean_. + + I'le seise your fair hand, + And warm it with a hundred, hundred kisses. + The God of love warm your desires but equal, + That shall play my game now. + + _Am_. + + What do you mean Sir? + Why do you stop me? + + _Lean_. + + That ye may intend me. + The time has blest us both: love bids us use it. + I am a Gentleman nobly descended, + Young to invite your love, rich to maintain it. + I bring a whole heart to ye, thus I give it, + And to those burning altars thus I offer, + And thus, divine lips, where perpetual Spring grows-- + + _Am_. + + Take that, ye are too saucy. + + _Lean_. + + How, proud Lady? + Strike my deserts? + + _Am_. + + I was to blame. + + _Enter_ + + Bartolus. + + _Bar_. + + What wife, there? + Heaven keep my house from thieves. + + _Lean_. + + I am wretched: + Opened, discovered, lost to my wishes. + I shall be whooted at. + + _Bar_. + + What noise was this, wife? + Why dost thou smile? + + _Lean_. + + This proud thing will betray me. + _Bar_. Why these lie here? what angry, dear? + + _Am_. + + No, Sir, + Only a chance, your pupil said he plaid well, + And so indeed he do's: he undertook for ye, + Because I would not sit so long time idle, + I made my liberty, avoided your mate, + And he again as cunningly endangered me, + Indeed he put me strangely to it. When presently + Hearing you come, & having broke his ambush too, + Having the second time brought off my Queen fair, + I rose o'th' sudden smilingly to shew ye, + My apron caught the Chesse-board, and the men, + And there the noise was. + + _Bar_. + + Thou art grown a Master, + For all this I shall beat ye. + + _Lean_. + + Or I, Lawyer, + For now I love her more, 'twas a neat answer, + And by it hangs a mighty hope, I thank her, + She gave my pate a sound knock that it rings yet, + But you shall have a sounder if I live lawyer, + My heart akes yet, I would not be in that fear-- + + _Bar_. + + I am glad ye are a gamester, Sir, sometimes + For recreation we two shall fight hard at it. + + _Am_. + + He will prove too hard for me. + + _Lean_. + + I hope he shall do, + But your Chess-board is too hard for my head, line that, good Lady. + + _Bar_. + + I have been attoning two most wrangling neighbours, + They had no mony, therefore I made even. + Come, let's go in and eat, truly I am hungry. + + _Lean_. + + I have eaten already, I must intreat your pardon. + + _Bar_. + + Do as ye please, we shall expect ye at supper. + He has got a little heart, now it seems handsomly. + + _Am_. + + You'l get no little head, if I do not look to ye. + + _Lean_. + + If ever I do catch thee again thou vanity-- + + _Am_. + + I was to blame to be so rash, I am sorry-- + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + _Actus Quartus. Scena Prima_. + + _Enter_ Don Henrique, Violante, Ascanio. + + _H[en]_. + + Hear but my reasons. + + _Viol_. + + O my patience, hear 'em! + Can cunning falshood colour an excuse + With any seeming shape of borrowed truth? + Extenuate this wofull wrong, not error? + + _Hen_. + + You gave consent that, to defeat my brother + I should take any course. + + _Vio_. + + But not to make + The cure more loathsom than the foul disease: + Was't not enough you took me to your bed, + Tir'd with loose dalliance, and with emptie veins, + All those abilities spent before and wasted, + That could confer the name of mother on me? + But that (to perfect my account of sorrow + For my long barr[en]ness) you must heighten it + By shewing to my face, that you were fruitfull + Hug'd in the base embraces of another? + If Solitude that dwelt beneath my roof, + And want of children was a torment to me, + What end of my vexation to behold + A bastard to upbraid me with my wants? + And hear the name of father paid to ye, + Yet know my self no mother, + What can I say? + + _Hen_. + + Shall I confess my fault and ask your pardon? + Will that content ye? + + _Vio_. + + If it could make void, + What is confirm'd in Court: no, no, _Don Henrique_, + You shall know that I find my self abus'd, + And adde to that, I have a womans anger, + And while I look upon this Basilisk, + Whose envious eyes have blasted all my comforts + Rest confident I'le study my dark ends, + And not your pleasures. + + _Asc_. + + Noble Lady, hear me, + Not as my Fathers son, but as your servant, + Vouchsafe to hear me, for such in my duty, + I ever will appear: and far be it from + My poor ambition, ever to look on you, + But with that reverence, which a slave stands bound + To pay a worthy Mistris: I have heard + That Dames of highest place, nay Queens themselves + Disdain not to be serv'd by such as are + Of meanest Birth: and I shall be most happie, + To be emploi'd when you please to command me + Even in the coursest office, as your Page, + I can wait on your trencher, fill your wine, + Carry your pantofles, and be sometimes bless'd + In all humilitie to touch your feet: + Or if that you esteem that too much grace, + I can run by your Coach: observe your looks, + And hope to gain a fortune by my service, + With your good favour, which now, as a Son, + I dare not challenge. + + _Vio_. + + As a Son? + + _Asc_. + + Forgive me, + I will forget the name, let it be death + For me to call you Mother. + + _Vio_. + + Still upbraided? + + _Hen_. No way left to appease you? + + _Vio_. + + None: now hear me: + Hear what I vow before the face of Heaven, + And if I break it, all plagues in this life, + And those that after death are fear'd fall, on me, + While that this Bastard staies under my roof, + Look for no peace at home, for I renounce + All Offices of a wife. + + _Hen_. + + What am I faln to? + + _Vio_. + + I will not eat, nor sleep with you, and those hours, + Which I should spend in prayers for your health, + Shall be emploi'd in Curses. + + _Hen_. + + Terrible. + + _Vio_. + + All the day long, I'le be as tedious to you + As lingring fevers, and I'le watch the nights, + To ring aloud your shame, and break your sleeps. + Or if you do but slumber, I'le appear + In the shape of all my wrongs, and like a fury + Fright you to madness, and if all this fail + To work out my revenge, I have friends and kinsmen, + That will not sit down tame with the disgrace + That's offer'd to our noble familie + In what I suffer. + + _Hen_. + + How am I divided + Between the duties I owe as a Husband, + And pietie of a Parent? + + _Asc_. + + I am taught Sir + By the instinct of nature that obedience + Which bids me to prefer your peace of mind, + Before those pleasures that are dearest to me, + Be wholly hers (my Lord) I quit all parts, + That I may challenge: may you grow old together, + And no distaste e're find you, and before + The Characters of age are printed on you + May you see many Images of your selves, + Though I, like some false glass, that's never look'd in, + Am cast aside, and broken; from this hour + (Unless invited, which I dare not hope for) + I never will set my forbidden feet + Over your threshold: only give me leave + Though cast off to the world to mention you + In my devotions, 'tis all I sue for + And so I take my last leave. + + _Hen_. + + Though I am + Devoted to a wife, nay almost sold + A slave to serve her pleasures, yet I cannot + So part with all humanity, but I must + Shew something of a Father: thou shalt not goe + Unfurnish'd and unfriended too: take that + To guard thee from necessities; may thy goodness + Meet many favours, and thine innocence + Deserve to be the heir of greater fortunes, + Than thou wer't born to. Scorn me not _Violante_, + This banishment is a kind of civil death, + And now, as it were at his funeral + To shed a tear or two, is not unmanly, + And so farewel for ever: one word more, + Though I must never see thee (my _Ascanio_) + When this is spent (for so the Judge decreed) + Send to me for supply: are you pleas'd now? + + _Vio_. + + Yes: I have cause: to see you howl and blubber + At the parting of my torment, and your shame. + 'Tis well: proceed: supply his wants: doe doe: + Let the great dower I brought serve to maintain + Your Bastards riots: send my Clothes and Jewels, + To your old acquaintance, your dear dame his Mother. + Now you begin to melt, I know 'twill follow. + + _Hen_. + + Is all I doe misconstru'd? + + _Viol_. + + I will take + A course to right my self, a speeding one: + By the bless'd Saints, I will; if I prove cruel, + The shame to see thy foolish pity, taught me + To lose my natural softness, keep off from me, + Thy flatteries are infectious, and I'le flee thee + As I would doe a Leper. + + _Hen_. + + Let not fury + Transport you so: you know I am your Creature, + All love, but to your self, with him, hath left me. + I'le joyn with you in any thing. + + _Viol_. + + In vain, + I'le take mine own waies, and will have no partners. + + _Hen_. + + I will not cross you. + + _Viol_. + + Do not, they shall find + That to a Woman of her hopes beguil'd + A Viper trod on, or an Aspick's mild. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Lopez, Milanes, Arsenio. + + _Lop_. + + Sits the game there? I have you by mine order, + I love _Leandro_ for't. + + _Mil_. + + But you must shew it + In lending him your help, to gain him means + And opportunity. + + _Lop_. + + He shall want nothing, + I know my Advocate to a hair, and what + Will fetch him from his Prayers, if he use any, + I am honyed with the project: I would have him horn'd + For a most precious Beast. + + _Ars_. + + But you lose time. + + _Lop_. + + I am gone, instruct you _Diego_, you will find him + A sharp and subtle Knave, give him but hints + And he will amplifie. See all things ready, + I'le fetch him with a vengeance-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Ars_. + + If he fail now, + We'll give him over too. + + _Mil_. + + Tush, he is flesh'd. + And knows what vein to strike for his own credit. + + _Ars_. + + All things are ready. + + _Mil_. + + Then we shall have a merry Scene, ne're fear it. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Amaranta, _with a note, and_ Moor. + + _Amar_. + + Is thy Master gone out? + + _Moor_. + + Even now, the Curate fetch'd him, + About a serious business as it seem'd, + For he snatch'd up his Cloak, and brush'd his Hat straight, + Set his Band handsomely, and out he gallop'd. + + _Amar_. + + 'Tis well, 'tis very well, he went out, _Egla_, + As luckily, as one would say, go Husband, + He was call'd by providence: fling this short Paper + Into _Leandro's_ Cell, and waken him, + He is monstrous vexed, and musty, at my Chess-play; + But this shall supple him, when he has read it: + Take your own Recreation for two hours, + And hinder nothing. + + _Moor_. + + If I do, I'll hang for't. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + SCENA IV. + + _Enter_ Octavio, Jacintha. + + _Octa_. + + If that you lov'd _Ascanio_ for himself, + And not your private ends, you rather should + Bless the fair opportunity, that restores him + To his Birth-right, and the Honours he was born to, + Than grieve at his good Fortune. + + _Jac_. + + Grieve, _Octavio_? + I would resign my Essence, that he were + As happy as my love could fashion him, + Though every blessing that should fall on him, + Might prove a curse to me: my sorrow springs + Out of my fear and doubt he is not safe. + I am acquainted with _Don Henrique_'s nature, + And I have heard too much the fiery temper + Of Madam _Violante_: can you think + That she, that almost is at war with Heaven + For being barren, will with equal eyes + Behold a Son of mine? + + _Octa_. + + His Father's care, + That for the want of Issue, took him home, + (Though with the forfeiture of his own fame) + Will look unto his safety. + + _Jac_. + + Step-mothers + Have many eyes, to find a way to mischief, + Though blind to goodness. + + _Enter_ Jamie _and_ Ascanio. + + _Octa_. + + Here comes _Don Jamie_, + And with him our _Ascanio_. + + _Jam_. + + Good youth leave me, + I know thou art forbid my company, + And only to be seen with me, will call on + Thy Fathers anger. + + [_Asc_.] + + Sir, if that to serve you + Could lose me any thing (as indeed it cannot) + I still would follow you. Alas I was born + To do you hurt, but not to help my self, + I was, for some particular end, took home, + But am cast off again. + + _Jam_. + + Is't possible? + + _Asc_. + + The Lady, whom my Father calls his Wife, + Abhors my sight, is sick of me, and forc'd him + To turn me out of doors. + + _Jac_. + + By my best hopes + I thank her cruelty, for it comes near + A saving Charity. + + _Asc_. + + I am only happy + That yet I can relieve you, 'pray you share: + My Father's wondrous kind, and promises + That I should be supplied: but sure the Lady + Is a malicious Woman, and I fear + Means me no good. + + _Enter_ Servant. + + _Jam_. + + I am turn'd a stone with wonder, + And know not what to think. + + _Ser_. + + From my Lady, + Your private ear, and this-- + + _Jam_. + + New Miracles? + + _Ser_. + + She says, if you dare make your self a Fortune, + She will propose the means; my Lord _Don Henrique_ + Is now from home, and she alone expects you, + If you dare trust her, so, if not despair of + A second offer. + + [_Exit_. + + _Jam_. + + Though there were an Ambush + Laid for my life, I'le on and sound this secret. + Retire thee, my _Ascanio_, with thy Mother: + But stir not forth, some great design's on foot, + Fall what can fall, if e're the Sun be set + I see you not, give me for dead. + + _Asc_. + + We will expect you, + And those bless'd Angels, that love goodness, guard you. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + SCENA V. + + _Enter_ Lopez _and_ Bartolus. + + _Bar_. + + Is't possible he should be rich? + + _Lop_. + + Most possible, + He hath been long, though he had but little gettings, + Drawing together, Sir. + + _Bar_. + + Accounted a poor Sexton, + Honest poor _Diego_. + + _Lop_. + + I assure ye, a close Fellow, + Both close, and scraping, and that fills the Bags, Sir. + + _Bar_. + + A notable good fellow too? + + _Lop_. + + Sometimes, Sir, + When he hop'd to drink a man into a Surfeit, + That he might gain by his Grave. + + _Bar_. + + So many thousands? + + _Lop_. + + Heaven knows what. + + _Bar. + + 'Tis strange, + 'Tis very strange; but we see by endeavour, + And honest labour-- + + _Lop_. + + _Milo_, by continuance + Grew from a silly Calf (with your worships reverence) + To carry a Bull, from a penny, to a pound, Sir, + And from a pound, to many: 'tis the progress. + + _Bar_. + + Ye say true, but he lov'd to feed well also, + And that me-thinks-- + + _Lop_. + + From another mans Trencher, Sir, + And there he found it season'd with small charge: + There he would play the Tyrant, and would devour ye + More than the Graves he made; at home he liv'd + Like a Camelion, suckt th' Air of misery, + + [_Table out, Standish, Paper, Stools_. + + And grew fat by the Brewis of an Egg-shell, + Would smell a Cooks-shop, and go home and surfeit. + And be a month in fasting out that Fever. + + _Bar_. + + These are good Symptoms: do's he lye so sick say ye? + + _Lop_. + + Oh, very sick. + + _Bar_. + + And chosen me Executor? + + _Lop_. + + Only your Worship. + + _Bar_. + + No hope of his amendment? + + _Lop_. + + None, that we find. + + _Bar_. + + He hath no Kinsmen neither? + + _Lop_. + + 'Truth, very few, + + _Bar_. + + His mind will be the quieter. + What Doctors has he? + + _Lop_. + + There's none, Sir, he believes in. + + _Bar_. + + They are but needless things, in such extremities. + Who draws the good mans Will? + + _Lop_. + + Marry that do I, Sir, + And to my grief. + + _Bar_. + + Grief will do little now, Sir, + Draw it to your comfort, Friend, and as I counsel ye, + An honest man, but such men live not always: + Who are about him? + + _Lop_. + + Many, now he is passing, + That would pretend to his love, yes, and some Gentlemen + That would fain counsel him, and be of his Kindred; + Rich men can want no Heirs, Sir. + + _Bar_. + + They do ill, + Indeed they do, to trouble him; very ill, Sir. + But we shall take a care. + + _Enter_ Diego, _in a Bed_, Milanes, Arsenio, _and_ Parishioners. + + _Lop_. + + Will ye come near, Sir? + 'Pray ye bring him out; now ye may see in what state: + Give him fresh Air. + + _Bar_. + + I am sorry, Neighbour _Diego_, + To find ye in so weak a state. + + _Die_. + + Ye are welcome, + But I am fleeting, Sir. + + _Bar_. + + Me-thinks he looks well, + His colour fresh, and strong, his eyes are chearful. + + _Lop_. + + A glimmering before death, 'tis nothing else, Sir, + Do you see how he fumbles with the Sheet? do ye note that? + + _Die_. + + My learned Sir, 'pray ye sit: I am bold to send for ye, + To take a care of what I leave. + + _Lop_. + + Do ye hear that? + + _Ars_. + + Play the Knave finely. + + _Die_. + + So I will, I warrant ye, + And carefully. + + _Bar_. + + 'Pray ye do not trouble him, + You see he's weak and has a wandring fancy. + + _Die_. + + My honest Neighbours, weep not, I must leave ye, + I cannot always bear ye company, + We must drop still, there is no remedy: + 'Pray ye Master Curate, will ye write my Testament, + And write it largely it may be remembred, + And be witness to my Legacies, good Gentlemen; + Your Worship I do make my full Executor, + You are a man of wit and understanding: + Give me a cup of Wine to raise my Spirits, + For I speak low: I would before these Neighbours + Have ye to swear, Sir, that you will see it executed, + And what I give let equally be rendred + For my souls health. + + _Bar_. + + I vow it truly, Neighbours, + Let not that trouble ye, before all these, + Once more I give my Oath. + + _Die_. + + Then set me higher, + And pray ye come near me all. + + _Lop_. + + We are ready for ye. + + _Mil_. + + Now spur the Ass, and get our friend time. + + _Die_. + + First then, + After I have given my body to the worms, + (For they must be serv'd first, they are seldom cozen'd.) + + _Lop_. + + Remember your Parish, Neighbour. + + _Die_. + + You speak truly, + I do remember it, a lewd vile Parish, + And pray it may be mended: To the poor of it, + (Which is to all the Parish) I give nothing, + For nothing, unto nothing, is most natural, + Yet leave as much space, as will build an Hospital, + Their Children may pray for me. + + _Bar_. + + What do you give to it? + + _Die_. + + Set down two thousand Duckets. + + _Bar_. + + 'Tis a good gift, + And will be long remembred. + + _Die_. + + To your worship, + (Because you must take pains to see all finish'd) + I give two thousand more, it may be three, Sir, + A poor gratuity for your pains-taking. + + _Bar_. + + These are large sums. + + _Lop_. + + Nothing to him that has 'em. + + _Die_. + + To my old Master Vicar, I give five hundred, + (Five hundred and five hundred are too few, Sir) + But there be more to serve. + + _Bar_. + + This fellow coins sure. + + _Die_. + + Give me some more drink. Pray ye buy Books, buy Books, + You have a learned head, stuff it with Libraries, + And understand 'em, when ye have done, 'tis Justice. + Run not the Parish mad with Controversies, + Nor preach Abstinence to longing Women, + 'Twill burge the bottoms of their Consciences: + I would give the Church new Organs, but I prophesie + The Church-wardens would quickly pipe 'em out o'th' Parish, + Two hundred Duckets more to mend the Chancel, + And to paint true Orthographie, as many, + They write _Sunt_ with a _C_, which is abominable, + 'Pray you set that down; to poor Maidens Marriages. + + _Lop_. + + I that's well thought of, what's your will in that point? + A meritorious thing. + + _Bar_. + + No end of this Will? + + _Die_. + + I give _per annum_ two hundred Ells of Lockram, + That there be no strait dealings in their Linnens, + But the Sails cut according to their Burthens. + To all Bell-ringers, I bequeath new Ropes, + And let them use 'em at their own discretions. + + _Ars_. + + You may remember us. + + _Die_. + + I do good Gentlemen, + And I bequeath you both good careful Surgions, + A Legacy, you have need of, more than mony, + I know you want good Diets, and good Lotions, + And in your pleasures, good take heed. + + _Lop_. + + He raves now, + But 'twill be quickly off. + + _Die_. + + I do bequeath ye + Commodities of Pins, Brown-papers, Pack-threads, + Rost Pork, and Puddings, Ginger-bread, and Jews-trumps, + Of penny Pipes, and mouldy Pepper, take 'em, + Take 'em even where you please and be cozen'd with 'em, + I should bequeath ye Executions also, + But those I'le leave to th' Law. + + _Lop_. + + Now he grows temperate. + + _Bar_. + + You will give no more? + + _Die_. + + I am loth to give more from ye, + Because I know you will have a care to execute. + Only, to pious uses, Sir, a little. + + _Bar_. + + If he be worth all these, I am made for ever. + + _Die_. + + I give to fatal Dames, that spin mens threads out, + And poor distressed Damsels, that are militant + As members of our own Afflictions, + A hundred Crowns to buy warm Tubs to work in, + I give five hundred pounds to buy a Church-yard, + A spacious Church-yard, to lay Thieves and Knaves in, + Rich men and honest men take all the room up. + + _Lop_. + + Are ye not weary? + + _Die_. + + Never of well-doing. + + _Bar_. + + These are mad Legacies. + + _Die_. + + They were got as madly; + My Sheep, and Oxen, and my moveables, + My Plate, and Jewels, and five hundred Acres; + I have no heirs. + + _Bar_. + + This cannot be, 'tis monstrous. + + _Die_. + + Three Ships at Sea too. + + _Bar_. + + You have made me full Executor? + + _Die_. + + Full, full, and total, would I had more to give ye, + But these may serve an honest mind. + + _Bar_. + + Ye say true, + A very honest mind, and make it rich too; + Rich, wondrous rich, but where shall I raise these moneys, + About your house? I see no such great promises; + Where shall I find these sums? + + _Die_. + + Even where you please, Sir, + You are wise and provident, and know business, + Ev'n raise 'em where you shall think good, I am reasonable. + + _Bar_. + + Think good? will that raise thousands? + What do you make me? + + _Die_. + + You have sworn to see it done, that's all my comfort. + + _Bar_. + + Where I please? this is pack'd sure to disgrace me. + + _Die_. + + Ye are just, and honest, and I know you will do it, + Ev'n where you please, for you know where the wealth is. + + _Bar_. + + I am abused, betrayed, I am laugh'd at, scorn'd, + Baffl'd, and boared, it seems. + + _Ars_. + + No, no, ye are fooled. + + _Lop_. + + Most finely fooled, and handsomely, and neatly, + Such cunning Masters must be fool'd sometimes, Sir, + And have their Worships noses wiped, 'tis healthful, + We are but quit: you fool us of our moneys + In every Cause, in every Quiddit wipe us. + + _Die_. + + Ha, ha, ha, ha, some more drink, for my heart, Gentlemen. + This merry Lawyer--ha, ha, ha, ha, this Scholar-- + I think this fit will cure me: this Executor-- + I shall laugh out my Lungs. + + _Bar_. + + This is derision above sufferance, villany + Plotted and set against me. + + _Die_. + + Faith 'tis Knavery, + In troth I must confess, thou art fool'd indeed, Lawyer. + + _Mil_. + + Did you think, had this man been rich-- + + _Bar_. + + 'Tis well, Sir. + + _Mil_. + + He would have chosen such a Wolf, a Canker, + A Maggot-pate, to be his whole Executor? + + _Lop_. + + A Lawyer, that entangles all mens honesties, + And lives like a Spider in a Cobweb lurking, + And catching at all Flies, that pass his pit-falls? + Puts powder to all States, to make 'em caper? + Would he trust you? Do you deserve? + + _Die_. + + I find, Gentlemen, + This Cataplasm of a well cozen'd Lawyer + Laid to my stomach, lenifies my Feaver, + Methinks I could eat now, and walk a little. + + _Bar_. + + I am asham'd to feel how flat I am cheated, + How grossly, and maliciously made a May-game, + A damned trick; my Wife, my Wife, some Rascal: + My Credit, and my Wife, some lustful Villain, + Some Bawd, some Rogue. + + _Ars_. + + Some crafty Fool has found ye: + This 'tis, Sir, to teach ye to be too busie, + To covet all the gains, and all the rumours, + To have a stirring Oare in all mens actions. + + _Lop_. + + We did this, but to vex your fine officiousness. + + _Bar_. + + Good yield ye, and good thank ye: I am fooled, Gentlemen; + The Lawyer is an Ass, I do confess it, + A weak dull shallow Ass: good even to your Worships: + Vicar, remember Vicar, Rascal, remember, + Thou notable rich Rascal. + + _Die_. + + I do remember, Sir, + 'Pray ye stay a little, I have ev'n two Legacies + To make your mouth up, Sir. + + _Bar_. + + Remember Varlets, + Quake and remember, Rogues; + I have brine for your Buttocks. + + [_Exit_. + + _Lop_. + + Oh how he frets, and fumes now like a Dunghil! + + _Die_. + + His gall contains fine stuff now to make poysons, + Rare damned stuff. + + _Ars_. + + Let's after him, and still vex him, + And take my Friend off: by this time he has prosper'd, + He cannot lose this dear time: 'tis impossible. + + _Mil_. + + Well _Diego_, thou hast done. + + _Lop_. + + Hast done it daintily. + + _Mil_. + + And shalt be as well paid, Boy-- + + _Ars_. + + Go, let's crucifie him. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + SCENA VI. + + _Enter_ Amaranta, Leandro. + + _Lean_. + + I have told ye all my story, and how desperately. + + _Ama_. + + I do believe: let's walk on, time is pretious, + Not to be spent in words, here no more wooing, + The open Air's an enemy to Lovers, + Do as I tell ye. + + _Lean_. + + I'le do any thing, + I am so over-[joy'd], I'le fly to serve ye. + + _Am_. + + Take your joy moderately, as it is ministred, + And as the cause invites: that man's a fool + That at the sight o'th' Bond, dances and leaps, + Then is the true joy, when the mony comes. + + _Lean_. + + You cannot now deny me. + + _Ama_. Nay, you know not, + Women have crotchets, and strange fits. + + _Lean_. + + You shall not. + + _Ama_. + + Hold ye to that and swear it confidently, + Then I shall make a scruple to deny ye: + 'Pray ye let's step in, and see a friend of mine, + The weather's sharp: we'll stay but half an hour, + We may be miss'd else: a private fine house 'tis, Sir, + And we may find many good welcomes. + + _Lean_. + + Do Lady, + Do happy Lady. + + _Ama_. + + All your mind's of doing, + You must be modester. + + _Lean_. + + I will be any thing. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + + SCENA VII. + + _Enter_ Bartolus. + + _Bar_. + + Open the doors, and give me room to chafe in + Mine own room, and my liberty: why Maid there, + Open I say, and do not anger me, + I am subject to much fury: when, ye Dish-clout? + When do ye come? asleep ye lazie Hell-hound? + Nothing intended, but your ease, and eating? + No body here? why Wife, why Wife? why Jewel? + No tongue to answer me? pre'thee, good Pupil, + Dispense a little with thy careful study, + And step to th' door, and let me in; nor he neither? + Ha! not at's study? nor asleep? nor no body? + I'le make ye hear: the house of ignorance, + No sound inhabits here: I have a Key yet + That commands all: I fear I am Metamorphiz'd. + + _Enter_ Lopez, Arsenio, Milanes, Diego. + + _Lop_. + + He keeps his fury still, and may do mischief. + + _Mil_. + + He shall be hang'd first, we'll be sticklers there, boys. + + _Die_. + + The hundred thousand Dreams now, that possess him + Of jealousie, and of revenge, and frailtie, + Of drawing Bills against us, and Petitions. + + _Lop_. + + And casting what his credit shall recover. + + _Mil_. + + Let him cast till his Maw come up, we care not. + You shall be still secured. [_A great noise within_. + + _Die_. + + We'll pay him home then; + Hark what a noise he keeps within! + + _Lop_. + + Certain + H'as set his Chimneys o' fire, or the Devil roars there. + + _Die_. + + The Codixes o'th' Law are broke loose, Gentlemen. + + _Ars_. + + He's fighting sure. + + _Die_. + I'le tell ye that immediately-- + + [_Exit_. + + _Mil_. + + Or doing some strange out-rage on himself. + + _Ars_. + + Hang him, he dares not be so valiant. + + _Enter_ + + Diego. + + _Die_. + + There's no body at home, and he chafes like a Lyon, + And stinks withal. [_Noise still_. + _Lop_. No body? + + _Die_. + + Not a Creature, + Nothing within, but he and his Law-tempest, + The Ladles, Dishes, Kettles, how they flie all! + And how the Glasses through the Rooms! + + _Enter_ Bartolus. + + _Ars_. + + My friend sure + Has got her out, and now he has made an end on't. + + _Lop_. + + See where the Sea comes? how it foams, and brustles? + The great Leviathan o'th' Law, how it tumbles? + + _Bar_. + + Made every way an Ass? abus'd on all sides? + And from all quarters, people come to laugh at me? + Rise like a Comet, to be wonder'd at? + A horrid Comet, for Boys tongues, and Ballads? + I will run from my wits. + + _Enter_ Amaranta, Leandro. + + _Ars_. + + Do, do, good Lawyer, + And from thy mony too, then thou wilt be quiet. + + _Mil_. + + Here she comes home: now mark the salutations; + How like an Ass my friend goes? + + _Ars_. + + She has pull'd his ears down. + + _Bar_. + + Now, what sweet voyage? to what Garden, Lady? + Or to what Cousins house? + + _Ama_. + + Is this my welcome? + I cannot go to Church, but thus I am scandal'd, + Use no devotion for my soul, but Gentlemen-- + + _Bar_. + + To Church? + + _Amar_. + + Yes, and ye keep sweet youths to wait upon me, + Sweet bred-up youths, to be a credit to me. + There's your delight again, pray take him to ye, + He never comes near me more to debase me. + + _Bar_. + + How's this? how's this? good wife, how, has he wrong'd ye? + + _Ama_. + + I was fain to drive him like a sheep before me, + I blush to think how people fleer'd, and scorn'd me. + Others have handsome men, that know behaviour, + Place, and observance: this silly thing knows nothing, + Cannot tell ten; let every Rascal justle me, + And still I push'd him on as he had been coming. + _Bar_. Ha! did ye push him on? is he so stupid? + + _Ama_. + + When others were attentive to the Priest, + Good devout Gentleman, then fell he fast, + Fast, sound asleep: then first began the Bag-pipes, + The several stops on's nose made a rare musick, + A rare and loud, and those plaid many an Anthem. + Put out of that, he fell straight into dreaming. + + _Ars_. + + As cunning, as she is sweet; I like this carriage. + + _Bar_. + + What did he then? + + _Ama_. + + Why then he talked in his Sleep too, + Nay, I'le divulge your moral vertues (sheeps-face) + And talk'd aloud, that every ear was fixt to him: + Did not I suffer (do you think) in this time? + Talk of your bawling Law, of appellations + Of Declarations, and Excommunications: + Warrants, and Executions: and such Devils + That drove all the Gentlemen out o'th' Church, by hurryes, + With execrable oaths, they would never come there again. + Thus am I served and man'd. + + _Lean_. + + I pray ye forgive me, + I must confess I am not fit to wait upon ye: + Alas, I was brought up-- + + _Ama_. + + To be an Asse, + A Lawyers Asse, to carry Books, and Buckrams. + + _Bar_. + + But what did you at Church? + + _Lop_. + + At Church, did you ask her? + Do you hear Gentlemen, do you mark that question? + Because you are half an Heretick your self, Sir, + Would ye breed her too? this shall to the Inquisition, + A pious Gentlewoman reproved for praying? + I'le see this filed, and you shall hear further, Sir. + + _Ars_. + + Ye have an ill heart. + + _Lop_. + + It shall be found out, Gentlemen, + There be those youths will search it. + + _Die_. + + You are warm Signiour, + But a Faggot will warm ye better: we are witnesses. + + _Lop_. + + Enough to hang him, do not doubt. + + _Mil_. + + Nay certain, + I do believe h'as rather no Religion. + + _Lop_. + + That must be known too, because she goes to Church, Sir? + _O monstrum infirme ingens!_ + + _Die_. + + Let him go on, Sir, + His wealth will build a Nunnery, a fair one, + And this good Lady, when he is hang'd and rotten, + May there be Abbess. + + _Bar_. + + You are cozen'd, honest Gentlemen, + I do not forbid the use but the form, mark me. + + _Lop_. + + Form? what do you make of form? + + _Bar_. + + They will undo me, + Swear, as I oft have done, and so betray me; + I must make fair way, and hereafter, Wife, + You are welcome home, and henceforth take your pleasure, + Go when ye shall think fit, I will not hinder ye, + My eyes are open now, and I see my errour, + My shame, as great as that, but I must hide it. + The whole conveyance now I smell, but _Basta_, + Another time must serve: you see us friends, now + Heartily friends, and no more chiding, Gentlemen, + I have been too foolish, I confess, no more words, + No more, sweet Wife. + + _Ama_. + + You know my easie nature. + + _Bar_. + + Go get ye in: you see she has been angry: + Forbear her sight a while and time will pacify; + And learn to be more bold. + + _Lean_. + + I would I could, + I will do all I am able. + + [_Exit_. + + _Bar_. + + Do _Leandro_, + We will not part, but friends of all hands. + + _Lop_. + + Well said, + Now ye are reasonable, we can look on ye. + + _Bar_. + + Ye have jerkt me: but for all that I forgive ye, + Forgive ye heartily, and do invite ye + To morrow to a Breakfast, I make but seldom, + But now we will be merry. + + _Ars_. + + Now ye are friendly, + Your doggedness and niggardize flung from ye. + And now we will come to ye. + + _Bar_. + + Give me your hands, all; + You shall be welcome heartily. + + _Lop_. + + We will be, + For we'll eat hard. + + _Bar_. + + The harder, the more welcome, + And till the morning farewell; I have business. + + [_Exit_. + + _Mil_. + + Farewel good bountiful _Bartolus_, 'tis a brave wench, + A suddain witty thief, and worth all service: + Go we'll all go, and crucifie the Lawyer. + + _Die_. + + I'le clap four tire of teeth into my mouth more + But I will grind his substance. + + _Ars_. + + Well _Leandro_, + Thou hast had a strange Voyage, but I hope + Thou rid'st now in safe harbour. + + _Mil_. + + Let's go drink, Friends, + And laugh aloud at all our merry may-games. + + _Lop_. + + A match, a match, 'twill whet our stomachs better. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + _Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._ + + + _Enter_ Violante _and_ Servant. + + _Ser_. + + Madam, he's come. [_Chair and stools out_. + + _Viol_. + + 'Tis well, how did he look, + When he knew from whom you were sent? was he not startled? + Or confident? or fearful? + + _Ser_. + + As appear'd + Like one that knew his fortune at the worst, + And car'd not what could follow. + + _Viol_. + + 'Tis the better, + Reach me a Chair: so, bring him in, be careful + That none disturb us: I will try his temper, + And if I find him apt for my employments, + + _Enter_ Jamie, Servant. + + I'le work him to my ends; if not, I shall + Find other Engines. + + _Ser_. + + There's my Lady. + + _Viol_. + + Leave us. + + _Jam_. + + You sent for me? + + _Viol_. + + I did, and do's the favour, + Your present state considered and my power, + Deserve no greater Ceremony? + + _Jam_. + + Ceremonie? + I use to pay that where I owe a duty, + Not to my Brothers wife: I cannot fawn, + If you expect it from me, you are cozen'd, + And so farewel. + + _Viol_. + + He bears up still; I like it. + Pray you a word. + + _Jam_. + + Yes, I will give you hearing + On equal terms, and sit by you as a friend, + But not stand as a Sutor: Now your pleasure? + + _Viol_. + + You are very bold. + + _Jam_. + + 'Tis fit: since you are proud, + I was not made to feed that foolish humour, + With flattery and observance. + + _Viol_. + + Yet, with your favour, + A little form joyn'd with respect to her, + That can add to your wants, or free you from 'em + (Nay raise you to a fate, beyond your hopes) + Might well become your wisdom. + + _Jam_. + + It would rather + Write me a Fool, should I but only think + That any good to me could flow from you, + Whom for so many years I have found and prov'd + My greatest Enemy: I am still the same, + My wants have not transform'd me: I dare tell you, + To your new cerus'd face, what I have spoken + Freely behind your back, what I think of you, + You are the proudest thing, and have the least + Reason to be so that I ever read of. + In stature you are a Giantess: and your Tailor + Takes measure of you with a Jacobs Staff, + Or he can never reach you, this by the way + For your large size: now, in a word or two, + To treat of your Complexion were decorum: + You are so far from fair, I doubt your Mother + Was too familiar with the _Moor_ that serv'd her, + Your Limbs and Features I pass briefly over, + As things not worth description; and come roundly + To your Soul, if you have any; for 'tis doubtful. + _Viol_. I laugh at this, proceed. + + _Jam_. + + This Soul I speak of, + Or rather Salt to keep this heap of flesh + From being a walking stench, like a large Inn, + Stands open for the entertainment of + All impious practices: but there's no Corner + An honest thought can take up: and as it were not + Sufficient in your self to comprehend + All wicked plots, you have taught the Fool, my Brother, + By your contagion, almost to put off + The nature of the man, and turn'd him Devil, + Because he should be like you, and I hope + Will march to Hell together: I have spoken, + And if the Limning you in your true Colours + Can make the Painter gracious, I stand ready + For my reward, or if my words distaste you, + I weigh it not, for though your Grooms were ready + To cut my Throat for't, be assur'd I cannot + Use other Language. + + _Viol_. + + You think you have said now, + Like a brave fellow: in this Womans War + You ever have been train'd: spoke big, but suffer'd + Like a tame Ass; and when most spur'd and gall'd + Were never Master of the Spleen or Spirit, + That could raise up the anger of a man, + And force it into action. + + _Jam_. + + Yes, vile Creature, + Wer't thou a subject worthy of my Sword, + Or that thy death, this moment, could call home + My banish'd hopes, thou now wer't dead; dead, woman; + But being as thou art, it is sufficient + I scorn thee, and contemn thee. + + _Viol_. + + This shews nobly, + I must confess it: I am taken with it, + For had you kneel'd and whin'd and shew'd a base + And low dejected mind, I had despis'd you. + This bravery (in your adverse fortune) conquers + And do's command me, and upon the suddain + I feel a kind of pity, growing in me, + For your misfortunes, pity some say's the Parent, + Of future love, and I repent my part + So far in what you have suffered, that I could + (But you are cold) do something to repair + What your base Brother (such _Jamie_ I think him) + Hath brought to ruine. + + _Jam_. + + Ha? + + _Viol_. + + Be not amaz'd, + Our injuries are equal in his Bastard, + You are familiar with what I groan for, + And though the name of Husband holds a tye + Beyond a Brother, I, a poor weak Woman, + Am sensible, and tender of a wrong, + And to revenge it would break through all lets, + That durst oppose me. + + _Jam_. + + Is it possible? + + _Viol_. + + By this kiss: start not: thus much, as a stranger + You may take from me; but, if you were pleas'd, + I should select you as a bosom friend, + I would print 'em thus, and thus. + + _Jam_. + + Keep off. + + _Viol_. + + Come near, + Near into the Cabinet of my Counsels: + Simplicity and patience dwell with Fools, + And let them bear those burthens, which wise men + Boldly shake off; be mine and joyn with me, + And when that I have rais'd you to a fortune, + (Do not deny your self the happy means) + You'll look on me with more judicious eyes + And swear I am most fair. + + _Jam_. + + What would this Woman? + The purpose of these words? speak not in riddles, + And when I understand, what you would counsel, + My answer shall be suddain. + + _Viol_. + + Thus then _Jamie_, + The objects of our fury are the same, + For young _Ascanio_, whom you Snake-like hug'd + (Frozen with wants to death) in your warm bosom, + Lives to supplant you in your certain hopes, + And kills in me all comfort. + + _Jam_. + + Now 'tis plain, + I apprehend you: and were he remov'd-- + + _Viol_. + + You, once again, were the undoubted heir. + + _Jam_. + + 'Tis not to be deny'd; I was ice before, + But now ye have fir'd me.-- + + _Viol_. + + I'le add fuel to it, + And by a nearer cut, do you but steer + As I direct you, wee'l bring our Bark into + The Port of happiness. + + _Jam_. + + How? + + _Viol_. + + By _Henriques_ death: + But you'l say he's your Brother; in great fortunes + (Which are epitomes of States and Kingdoms) + The politick brook no Rivals. + + _Jam_. + + Excellent! + For sure I think out of a scrupulous fear, + To feed in expectation, when I may + (Dispensing but a little with my conscience) + Come into full possession, would not argue + One that desir'd to thrive. + + _Viol_. + + Now you speak like + A man that knows the World. + + _Jam_. + + I needs must learn + That have so good a Tutress: and what think you, + (_Don Henrique_ and _Ascanio_ cut off) + That none may live, that shall desire to trace us + In our black paths, if that _Octavio_ + His foster Father, and the sad _Jacinta_, + (Faith pitie her, and free her from her Sorrows) + Should fall companions with 'em? When we are red + With murther, let us often bath in blood, + The colour will be scarlet. + + _Viol_. + + And that's glorious, + And will protect the fact. + + _Jam_. + + Suppose this done: + (If undiscovered) we may get for mony, + (As that you know buyes any thing in _Rome_) + A dispensation. + + _Viol_. + + And be married? + + _Jam_. + + True. + Or if it be known, truss up our Gold and Jewels, + And fly to some free State, and there with scorn-- + + _Viol_. + + Laugh at the laws of _Spain_. + 'Twere admirable. + + _Jam_. + + We shall beget rare children. I am rapt with + The meer imagination.-- + + _Viol_. + + Shall it be done? + + _Jam_. + + Shall? 'tis too tedious: furnish me with means + To hire the instruments, and to your self + Say it is done already: I will shew you, + E're the Sun set, how much you have wrought upon me, + Your province is only to use some means, + To send my Brother to the Grove that's neighbour + To the west Port of th' City; leave the rest + To my own practice; I have talk'd too long, + But now will doe: this kiss, with my Confession, + To work a fell revenge: a man's a fool, + If not instructed in a Womans School. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + SCENA II. + + _Enter_ Bartolus, Algazeirs, _and a_ Paratour. + + _The Table set out and stools_. + + _Bar_. + + You are well enough disguiz'd, furnish the Table, + Make no shew what ye are, till I discover: + Not a soul knows ye here: be quick and diligent, + These youths I have invited to a Breakfast, + But what the Sawce will be, I am of opinion + I shall take off the edges of their Appetites, + And grease their gums for eating heartily + This month or two, they have plaid their prizes with me, + And with their several flurts they have lighted dangerously, + But sure I shall be quit: I hear 'em coming. + Go off and wait the bringing in your service, + And do it handsomely: you know where to have it. + + _Enter_ Milanes, Arsenio, Lopez, Diego. + + Welcom i' Faith. + + _Ars_. + + That's well said, honest Lawyer. + + _Lop_. + + Said like a neighbour. + + _Bar_. + + Welcom all: all over, + And let's be merry. + + _Mil_. + + To that end we came Sir, + An hour of freedome's worth an age of juglings. + + _Die_. + + I am come too Sir, to specifie my Stomach + A poor reteiner to your worships bountie. + + _Bar_. + + And thou shalt have it fill'd my merry _Diego_, + My liberal, and my bonny bounteous _Diego_, + Even fill'd till it groan again. + + _Die_. + + Let it have fair play, + And if it founder then.-- + + _Bar_. + + I'le tell ye neighbours, + Though I were angry yesterday with ye all, + And very angry, for methought ye bob'd me. + + _Lop_. + + No, no, by no means. + + _Bar_. + + No, when I considered + It was a jest, and carried off so quaintly, + It made me merry: very merry, Gentlemen, + I do confess I could not sleep to think on't, + The mirth so tickled me, I could not slumber. + + _Lop_. + + Good mirth do's work so: honest mirth, + Now, should we have meant in earnest-- + + _Bar_. + + You say true neighbour. + + _Lop_. + + It might have bred such a distast and sowrness, + Such fond imaginations in your Brains, Sir, + For things thrust home in earnest.-- + + _Bar_. + + Very certain, + But I know ye all for merry waggs, and ere long + You shall know me too in another fashion, + Though y'are pamper'd, ye shall bear part o'th' burthen. + + _Enter_ Amaranta, _and_ Leandro. + + Come wife; Come bid 'em welcom; Come my Jewel: + And Pupil, you shall come too; ne're hang backward, + Come, come the woman's pleas'd, her anger's over, + Come, be not bashfull. + + _Am_. + + What do's he prepare here? + Sure there's no meat i'th' house, at least not drest, + Do's he mean to mock 'em? or some new bred crotchet + Come o're his brains; I do not like his kindness: + But silence best becomes me: if he mean foul play, + Sure they are enough to right themselves, and let 'em, + I'le sit by, so they beat him not to powder. + + _Bar_. + + Bring in the meat there, ha? Sit down dear neighbour, + A little meat needs little Complement, + Sit down I say. + + _Am_. + + What do you mean by this Sir? + + _Bar_. + + Convey away their weapons handsomely. + + _Am_. + + You know there's none i'th' house to answer ye, + But the poor Girle; you know there's no meat neither. + + _Bar_. + + Peace and be quiet; I shall make you smoak else, + There's men and meat enough, set it down formally. + + _Enter_ Algazeirs, _with dishes_. + + _Am_. + + I fear some lewd trick, yet I dare not speak on't. + + _Bar_. + + I have no dainties for ye Gentlemen, + Nor loads of meat, to make the room smell of 'em. + Only a dish to every man I have dedicated, + And if I have pleas'd his appetite. + + _Lop_. + + O, a Capon, + A Bird of grace, and be thy will, I honour it. + + _Die_. + + For me some fortie pound of lovely Beef, + Plac'd in a mediterranean sea of Brewis. + + _Bar_. + + Fall to, fall to, that we may drink and laugh after, + Wait diligently knaves. + + _Mil_. + + What rare bit's this? + An execution! bless me! + + _Bar_. + + Nay take it to ye, + There's no avoiding it, 'tis somewhat tough Sir, + But a good stomach will endure it easily, + The sum is but a thousand duckets Sir. + + _Ars_. + + A Capias from my Surgeon, and my Silk-man! + + _Bar_. + + Your carefull makers, but they have mar'd your diet. + Stir not, your Swords are gone: there's no avoiding me, + And these are Algazeirs, do you hear that passing bell? + + _Lop_. + + A strong Citation, bless me! + + _Bar_. + + Out with your Beads, Curate, + The Devil's in your dish: bell, book, and Candle. + + _Lop_. + + A warrant to appear before the Judges! + I must needs rise, and turn to th' wall. + + _Bar_. + + Ye need not, + Your fear I hope will make ye find your Breeches. + + _All_. + + We are betrai'd. + + _Bar_. + + Invited do not wrong me, + Fall to, good Guests, you have diligent men about ye, + Ye shall want nothing that may persecute ye, + These will not see ye start; Have I now found ye? + Have I requited ye? You fool'd the Lawyer, + And thought it meritorious to abuse him, + A thick ram-headed knave: you rid, you spur'd him, + And glorified your wits, the more ye wronged him; + Within this hour ye shall have all your Creditours, + A second dish of new debts, come upon ye, + And new invitements to the whip, _Don Diego_, + And Excommunications for the learned Curate, + A Masque of all your furies shall dance to ye. + + _Ars_. + + You dare not use us thus? + + _Bar_. + + You shall be bob'd, Gentlemen, + Stir, and as I have a life, ye goe to prison, + To prison, without pitie instantly, + Before ye speak another word to prison. + I have a better Guard without, that waits; + Do you see this man, _Don_ Curate? 'tis a Paratour + That comes to tell ye a delightfull story + Of an old whore ye have, and then to teach ye + What is the penaltie; Laugh at me now Sir, + What Legacie would ye bequeath me now, + (And pay it on the nail?) to fly my fury? + + _Lop_. + + O gentle Sir. + + _Bar_. + + Do'st thou hope I will be gentle, + Thou foolish unconsiderate Curate? + + _Lop_. + + Let me goe Sir. + + _Bar_. + + I'le see thee hang first. + + _Lop_. + + And as I am a true Vicar, + Hark in your ear, hark softly-- + + _Bar_. + + No, no bribery. + I'le have my swindge upon thee; Sirra? Rascal? + You Lenten Chaps, you that lay sick, and mockt me, + Mockt me abominably, abused me lewdly, + I'le make thee sick at heart, before I leave thee, + And groan, and dye indeed, and be worth nothing, + Not worth a blessing, nor a Bell to knell for thee, + A sheet to cover thee, but that thou Stealest, + Stealest from the Merchant, and the Ring he was buried with + Stealest from his Grave, do you smell me now? + + _Die_. + + Have mercy on me! + + _Bar_. + + No Psalm of mercy shall hold me from hanging thee. + How do ye like your Breakfast? 'tis but short, Gentlemen, + But sweet and healthfull; Your punishment, and yours, Sir, + For some near reasons that concern my Credit, + I will take to my self. + + _Am_. + + Doe Sir, and spare not: + I have been too good a wife, and too obedient, + But since ye dare provoke me to be foolish-- + + _Lea_. + + She has, yes, and too worthie of your usage, + Before the world I justifie her goodness, + And turn that man, that dares but taint her vertues, + To my Swords point; that lying man, that base man, + Turn him, but face to face, that I may know him. + + _Bar_. + + What have I here? + + _Lea_. + + A Gentleman, a free man, + One that made trial of this Ladies constancie, + And found it strong as fate; leave off your fooling, + For if you follow this course, you will be Chronicled. + + _Enter_ Jamy _and_ Assistant. + + For a devil, whilst a Saint she is mentioned, + You know my name indeed; I am now no Lawyer. + + _Die_. + + Some comfort now, I hope, or else would I were hanged up. + And yet the Judge, he makes me sweat. + + _Bar_. + + What news now? + + _Jam_. + + I will justifie upon my life and credit + What you have heard, for truth, and will make proof of. + + _Assist_. + + I will be ready at the appointed hour there, + And so I leave ye. + + _Bar_. + + Stay I beseech your worship, + And do but hear me. + + _Jam_. + + Good Sir, intend this business, + And let this bawling fool, no more words lawyer, + And no more angers, for I guess your reasons, + This Gentleman, I'le justifie in all places, + And that fair Ladies worth; let who dare cross it. + The Plot was cast by me, to make thee jealous, + But not to wrong your wife, she is fair and vertuous. + + _Die_. + + Take us to mercy too, we beseech your honour, + We shall be justified the way of all flesh else. + + _Jam_. + + No more talk, nor no more dissention lawyer, + I know your anger, 'tis a vain and slight one, + For if you doe, I'le lay your whole life open, + A life that all the world shall--I'le bring witness, + And rip before a Judge the ulcerous villanies, + You know I know ye, and I can bring witness. + + _Bar_. + + Nay good Sir, noble Sir. + + _Jam_. + + Be at peace then presently, + Immediatley take honest and fair truce + With your good wife, and shake hands with that Gentleman; + H'as honour'd ye too much, and doe it cheerfully. + + _Lop_. + Take us along, for Heaven sake too. + + _Bar_. + + I am friends, + There is no remedie, I must put up all, + And like my neighbours rub it out by th' shoulders, + And perfect friends; _Leandro_ now I thank ye, + And there's my hand, I have no more grudge to ye, + But I am too mean henceforward for your Companie. + + _Lea_. + + I shall not trouble ye. + + _Ars_. + + We will be friends too. + + _Mil_. + + Nay Lawyer, you shall not fright us farther, + For all your devils we will bolt. + + _Bar_. + + I grant ye, + The Gentleman's your Bail, and thank his coming, + Did not he know me too well, you should smart for't; + Goe all in peace, but when ye fool next, Gentlemen, + Come not to me to Breakfast. + + _Die_. + + I'le be bak'd first. + + _Bar_. + + And pray ye remember, when ye are bold and merry, + The Lawyers Banquet, and the Sawce he gave ye. + + _Jam_. + + Come: goe along; I have employment for ye, + Employment for your lewd brains too, to cool ye, + For all, for every one. + + _All_. + + We are all your Servants. + + _Die_. + + All, all for any thing, from this day forward + I'le hate all Breakfasts, and depend on dinners. + + _Jam_. + + I am glad you come off fair. + + _Lea_. + + The fair has blest me. + + [_Exeunt_. + + + + + SCENA III. + + _Enter_ Octavi[o], Jacinta, [Ascanio]. + + _Oct_. + + This is the place, but why we are appointed + By _Don Jamie_ to stay here, is a depth + I cannot sound. + + _Asc_. + + Believ't he is too noble + To purpose any thing but for our good. + Had I assurance of a thousand lives, + And with them perpetuitie of pleasure, + And should lose all, if he prov'd only false, + Yet I durst run the hazard. + + _Jac_. + + 'Tis our comfort, + We cannot be more wretched than we are, + And death concludes all misery. + + _Oct_. + + Undiscovered + + _Enter_ Henrique, Jamie. + + We must attend him. + + _Asc_. + + Our stay is not long. + With him _Don Henrique_? + + _Jac_. + + Now I fear; + Be silent. + + _Hen_. + + Why dost thou follow me? + + _Jam_. + + To save your life, + A plot is laid for't, all my wrongs forgot, + I have a Brothers Love. + + _Hen_. + + But thy false self + I fear no enemy. + + _Jam_. + + You have no friend, + But what breathes in me: If you move a step + Beyond this ground you tread on, you are lost. + + _Hen_. + + 'Tis by thy practice then: I am sent hither + To meet her, that prefers my life and safetie + Before her own. + + _Jam_. + + That you should be abus'd thus + With weak credulitie! She for whose sake + You have forgot we had one noble Father, + Or that one Mother bare us, for whose love + You brake a contract to which heaven was witness, + To satisfie whose pride and wilfull humour + You have expos'd a sweet and hopefull Son + To all the miseries that want can bring him, + And such a Son, though you are most obdurate, + To give whom entertainment Savages + Would quit their Caves themselves, to keep him from + Bleak cold and hunger: This dissembling woman, + This Idol, whom you worship, all your love + And service trod under her feet, designs you + To fill a grave, or dead to lye a prey + For Wolves and Vulturs. + + _Hen_. + + 'Tis false; I defie thee, + And stand upon my Guard. + + _Enter_ Leandro, Milanes, Arsenio, Bart, Lopez, Diego, + Octavio, Jacinta, Ascanio, _and_ Servants. + + _Jam_. + + Alas, 'tis weak: + Come on, since you will teach me to be cruel, + By having no faith in me, take your fortune, + Bring the rest forth, and bind them fast. + + _Oct_. + + My Lord. + + _Asc_. + + In what have we offended? + + _Jam_. + + I am deaf, + And following my will, I do not stand + Accomptable to reason: See her Ring + (The first pledge of your love, and service to her) + Deliver'd as a Warrant for your death: + These Bags of gold you gave up to her trust, + (The use of which you did deny your self) + Bestow'd on me, and with a prodigal hand, + Whom she pick'd forth to be the Architect + Of her most bloudy building; and to fee + These Instruments, to bring Materials + To raise it up, she bad me spare no cost, + And (as a surplusage) offer'd her self + To be at my devotion. + + _Hen_. + + O accurs'd! + + _Jam_. + + But be incredulous still; think this my plot; + Fashion excuses to your self, and swear + That she is innocent, that she doats on ye; + Believe this, as a fearfull Dream, and that + You lie not at my mercy, which in this + I will shew only: She her self shall give + The dreadfull Sentence, to remove all scruple + Who 'tis that sends you to the other world. + + _Enter Violante_. + + Appears my _Violante_? speak (my dearest) + Do's not the object please you? + + _Viol_. + + More than if + All treasure that's above the earth, with that, + That lyes conceal'd in both the Indian Mines, + Were laid down at my feet: O bold _Jamy_, + Thou only canst deserve me. + + _Jam_. + + I am forward, + And (as you easily may perceive,) I sleep not + On your commands. + + _Enter Assistant, and Officers_. + + _Viol_. + + But yet they live: I look'd + To find them dead. + + _Jam_. + + That was deferr'd, that you + Might triumph in their misery, and have the power + To say they are not. + + _Viol_. + + 'Twas well thought upon: + This kiss, and all the pleasures of my Bed + This night, shall thank thee. + + _Hen_. + + Monster! + + _Viol_. + + You Sir, that + Would have me Mother Bastards, being unable + To honour me with one Child of mine own, + That underneath my roof, kept your cast-Strumpet, + And out of my Revenues would maintain + Her riotous issue: now you find what 'tis + To tempt a woman: with as little feeling + As I turn off a slave, that is unfit + To doe me service; or a horse, or dog + That have out-liv'd their use, I shake thee off, + To make thy peace with heaven. + + _Hen_. + + I do deserve this, + And never truly felt before, what sorrow + Attends on wilfull dotage. + + _Viol_. + + For you, Mistris, + That had the pleasure of his youth before me, + And triumph'd in the fruit that you had by him, + But that I think, to have the Bastard strangled + Before thy face, and thou with speed to follow + The way he leads thee, is sufficient torture, + I would cut off thy nose, put out thine eyes, + And set my foot on these bewitching lips, + That had the start of mine: but as thou art, + Goe to the grave unpitied. + + _Assist_. + + Who would believe + Such rage could be in woman? + + _Viol_. + + For this fellow, + He is not worth my knowledge. + + _Jam_. + + Let him live then, + Since you esteem him innocent. + + _Viol_. + + No _Jamy_, + He shall make up the mess: now strike together, + And let them fall so. + + _Assist_. + + Unheard of crueltie! + I can endure no longer: seise on her. + + _Viol_. + + Am I betrai'd? + Is this thy faith, _Jamy_? + + _Jam_. + + Could your desires + Challenge performance of a deed so horrid? + Or, though that you had sold your self to hell, + I should make up the bargain? Live (dear Brother) + Live long, and happy: I forgive you freely; + To have done you this service, is to me + A fair Inheritance: and how e're harsh language + (Call'd on by your rough usage) pass'd my lips, + In my heart I ever lov'd you: all my labours + Were but to shew, how much your love was cozen'd, + When it beheld it self in this false Glass, + That did abuse you; and I am so far + From envying young _Ascanio_ his good fortune, + That if your State were mine, I would adopt him, + These are the Murtherers my noble friends, + Which (to make trial of her bloudy purpose) + I won, to come disguis'd thus. + + _Hen_. + + I am too full + Of grief, and shame to speak: but what I'le doe, + Shall to the world proclaim my penitence; + And howsoever I have liv'd, I'le die + A much chang'd man. + + _Jam_. + + Were it but possible + You could make satisfaction to this woman, + Our joyes were perfect. + + _Hen_. + + That's my only comfort, + That it is in my power: I ne're was married + To this bad woman, though I doted on her, + But daily did defer it, still expecting + When grief would kill _Jacintha_. + + _Assist_. + + All is come out, + And finds a fair success: take her _Don Henrique_, + And once again embrace your Son. + + _Hen_. + + Most gladly. + + _Assist_. + + Your Brother hath deserv'd all. + + _Hen_. + + And shall share + The moitie of my State. + + _Assist_. + + I have heard, advocate, + What an ill Instrument you have been to him, + From this time strengthen him with honest counsels, + As you'le deserve my pardon. + + _Bar_. + + I'le change my Copy: + But I am punish'd, for I fear I have had + A smart blow, though unseen. + + _Assist_. + + Curate, and Sexton, + I have heard of you too, let me hear no more, + And what's past, is forgotten; For this woman, + Though her intent were bloody, yet our Law + Calls it not death: yet that her punishment + May deter others from such bad attempts, + The dowry she brought with her, shall be emploi'd + To build a Nunnery, where she shall spend + The remnant of her life. + + _Viol_. + + Since I have miss'd my ends, + I scorn what can fall on me. + + _Assist_. + + The strict discipline + Of the Church, will teach you better thoughts. And Signiors, + You that are Batchelours, if you ever marry, + In _Bartolus_ you may behold the issue + Of Covetousness and Jealousie; and of dotage, + And falshood in _Don Henrique_: keep a mean then; + _For be assured, that weak man meets all ill, + That gives himself up to a womans will_. + + [_Exeunt_. + + * * * * * + + + Prologue. + + + _To tell ye (Gentlemen,) we have a Play, + A new one too, and that 'tis launch'd to day, + The Name ye know, that's nothing to my Story; + To tell ye, 'tis familiar, void of Glory, + Of State, of Bitterness: of wit you'll say, + For that is now held wit, that tends that way, + Which we avoid: To tell ye too 'tis merry, + And meant to make ye pleasant, and not weary: + The Stream that guides ye, easie to attend: + To tell ye that 'tis good, is to no end, + If you believe not. Nay, to goe thus far, + To swear it, if you swear against, is war. + To assure you any thing, unless you see, + And so conceive, is vanity in me; + Therefore I leave it to it self, and pray + Like a good Bark, it may work out to day, + And stem all doubts; 'twas built for such a proof, + And we hope highly: if she lye aloof + For her own vantage, to give wind at will, + Why let her work, only be you but still, + And sweet opinion'd, and we are bound to say, + You are worthy Judges, and you crown the Play_. + + * * * * * + + Epilogue. + + + _The Play is done, yet our Suit never ends, + Still when you part, you would still part our friends, + Our noblest friends; if ought have faln amiss, + O let it be sufficient, that it is, + And you have pardon'd it. In Buildings great + All the whole Body cannot be so neat, + But something may be mended; Those are fair, + And worthy love, that may destroy, but spare_. + + + + + + APPENDIX + + _Ad Janum_ + + Take Comfort Janus, never feare thy head + Which to the quick belongs, not to the dead + Thy wife did lye with one, thou being dead drunke + Thou are not Cuckold though shee bee a Punke. + + Tis not the state nor soveraintie of Jove + could draw thy pure affections from my love + nor is there Venus in the Skyes + could from thy looks with draw my greedy eyes. + + + THE SPANISH CURATE. + + + + A = First Folio; B = Second Folio. + + + p. 60, + ll. 3-41. Omitted in A. + l. 42. A _omits_] and. + l. 46. A] heirs. + + p. 61, + l. 38. A] Encreasing by. + l. 39. B _misprints_] Vialante. + + p. 63, + l. 17. A] base and abject. + + p. 64, + l. 2. A] Or modestie. + l. 18. B _misprints_] whow. + l. 31. A] wish that it. + + p. 65, + l. 17. A] By this example. + l. 25. A] or of my. + + p. 66, + l. 8. A] of mine own. + l. 26. A] Mirth, and Seek. + + p. 68, + l. 2. A] have you. + + p. 70, + l. 28. A] provoking it call. + + p. 73, + l. 13. A] To me, of, that misery against my will. + + p. 74, + l. 33. A _omits_] as. + + p. 75, + l. 18. A gives this line to _Lean_. + l. 31. A _adds_] exit lea. _and gives_ + ll. 32 _and_ 33 _to_ Ars. + + l. 34. A _omits_] Exeunt Mil. Ars. + + p. 76, + l. 29. _A comma has been substituted for a full-stop + after_ weathers. + + p. 77, + l. 25. A] look out it. + l. 39. A] has. + + p. 79, + l. 3. A] often-times. + l. 15. B _prints_] Dig. + l. 28. A _omits_] to. + ll. 33 and 34. A _gives these lines to_ Lea. + + p. 80, + l. 22. B _misprints_] yesterdy. + + p. 82, + l. 9. A] still and the. + l. 16. A] jealousies. + + p. 83, + l. 3. B] More. + + p. 84, + l. 15. A] Gentleman. + + p. 86, + l. 8. A] be a kin. + l. 10. A] 'long. + + p. 87, + l. 19. A] am both to. + l. 23. A] 'Faith. + + p. 88, + l. 6. A] Y'faith. + l. 26. A] ye might. + + p. 89, + l. 4. A _adds_] Enter Amaranta. + l. 18. B _misprints_] woman. + ll. 21-34. Omitted in A. + + p. 90, + l. 22. A] lock upon me. + + p. 92, + l. 25. A _adds stage direction_] Two chaires set out. + l. 28. A _omits_] are. p. 93, + l. 10. A] porrage. + l. 23. A] gymitrie. + + p. 94, + l. 27. A] abed. + l. 34. A] I will. + + pp. 95 and 96. + l. 11 A omits the Song. + + p. 96, + l. 11. A _adds stage direction_] The Bar & Book + ready on a Table. + l. 18. A _omits_] Exeunt Parishioners. + l. 26. A] may he some. + + p. 98, + l. 6. A _omits_] and. + l. 22. B _misprints_] Tough. + + p. 99, + l. 4. A] proaguing. + + p. 100, + l. 9. A] 'Tis Sessions. + l. 16. A] hunch, hunch. + + p. 101, + l. 8. A] at her. + l. 21. A] Had winck'd. + + p. 102, + l. 29. A _adds stage direction_] Chess-boord and + men set ready. + + p. 104, + l. 10. A _omits_] Exit. + l. 27. A] That rakes. + l. 35. A] Jam. (_char_.). + l. 37. A _omits stage direction_. + l. 40. A _omits stage direction_. + + p. 105, + l. 18. A _gives this line to_ Lean. + + p. 106, + l. 11. A] 'Pre. + l. 13. A _omits stage direction_. + l. 16. A] 'Would. + + p. 107, + l. 32. A] and I thank. + + p. 109, + l. 1. A] anger. + l. 2. A] Why none, Sir. + + p. 110, + l. 3. B _misprints_] Hne. + l. 17. B _misprints_] barrneness. + l. 34. A] hath blasted. + + p. 111, + l. 12. A] pontafles. + + p. 113, + l. 5. A _adds stage direction_] Bed ready wine, + table Standish & Paper. + + p. 114, + l. 9. A] If ye. + + p. 115, + l. 29. A and B] Ars. + + p. 116, + l. 25. A _omits_] for. + + p. 117, + l. 3. A _adds stage direction_] Diego + ready in Bed, wine, cup. + + p. 118, + l. 14. A _adds stage direction_] Bed thrust out. + + p. 120, + l. 1. A] Nor preach not Abstinence. + l. 2. A] budge. + + p. 122, + l. 15. A _prints_ Doe you deserve _as + the beginning of Die's speech_. + + p. 123, + l. 16. A. _prints stage direction_] Pewter + ready for noyse. + l. 19. B _misprints_] joyn'd. + + p. 124, + l. 10. A] 'pre'thee. + + p. 125, + l. 9. A] brussels. + l. 34. A] fleere. + + p. 126, + l. 39. A] has. + + p. 129, + l. 3. A] I doe owe dutie. + l. 19. A _adds stage direction_] A Table + ready covered with Cloath Napkins Salt Trenchers + and Bread. + l. 27. A] cerviz'd. + + p. 132, + l. 7. A _omits_] wee'l. + l. 12. A _adds stage direction_] Dishes covered + with papers in each ready. + + p. 134, + l. 11. A _has_ Bar _written in the margin, not + printed, in the copy collated_. + l. 36. A] least none drest. + + p. 137, + l. 9. A] concernes. + l. 27. A] _gives this line to_ Lea. + + p. 138, + l. 16. A] Has. + + p. 139, + l. 5. B _misprints_] Octavia ... Arsenio. + + p. 143, + l. 24. A] deserv'd well. + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Spanish Curate +by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12141 *** |