The Spanish Curate
by
Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
Part 2 out of 4
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_.
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