 | The Bastard |  |
Scena sexta.
Enter Alvarado, Varina. Præpontio. Alonzo. Rubio. Hebes. Fidlers.Præ.
Play louder Picroes, that string's made of an Usurers gut, it
sounds like the jyngling of a mony-bag. Fy! on these Gitterns
and Treble-base viols, they are not comparable to an Italian barbiton;
march on my deare Colloquintida, Uncle, you are not so merry
as the solemnity of my presence deserves. March on fidlers, the furmitee
my English Cooke promised to make me, will be burnt too else;
but what's that Rubio?
Rub.
O Sir! a peece too rare for vulgar eyes,
And worthy only your perspicuous judgment:
And Epithalamium I composed on your wedding, you'll allow my
Mistris Bride to kiss me for't?
Alv.
Nephew, it will serve better at home then here.
Var.
Good Husband! Without Ceremony.
Præ.
Good Husband? How sweetly her throat utters it? All the
Pricksong in St. Saviours is not like those two words; but lead the
way while I support my magnificent Corps, with my Mistresses fain.
Arm through this dark Entry; they say it is haunted with spirits; but
if they come, we'll conjure them.
Oh! The Cramp, the Spavins, the Yellow Janders, the Grincoms,
the wambling Trot, or some such Belly vengeance has put my guts out
of joynt. I tell you, Rubio, untruss my points.
Rub.
So you may chance contaminate my fingers. Alas! You
bleed.
Præ.
Is it my blood red or yellow?
Rub.
'Tis white, Sir.
Præ.
Oh! Dismal, dismal! Don Præpontio's guts are too big for
his belly.
Alv.
Alas! My Nephew's wounded! Look about who hurt him?
Rub.
'S life, here's nothing but the walls, unless they be invisible.
Master, you do, but dream, you are not wounded.
Præ.
I am neither Husband, nor Master now, but I must die; I leave
my body to be buried; and good Uncle, sweet Wife, and honest Rubio,
put a musket, powder and shot into the Coffin with me.
Rub.
Look how those Rosy cheekes convert to Dazies!
Præ.
On my blessing do as I bid you, or my furious Ghost will
haunt you; for since it was some Spirit of the Buttery; because I loved
wine well; or Hobgoblin, because I used to lick the Cream bowls,
that has done me this injury to kill me; I will when I come among
them be revenged; for sure it is, I must go whisper two or three words
with Pluto and his Fraternity; bury me in a Coletta, or Buffe jacket,
that Rapiers may no more hurt me.
Ready to pierce my Lions heart?
Alv.
Alas! Poor Nephew, he bleeds!
Præ.
Yet, Uncle, I will spite of his nose bequeath my moveables;
First, to my seet Wife Varina I give all my Plate and Jewels; and to
my Uncle all that I have in my Closet. viz. Two Holland Cheeses,
three pound of Raisins Solis, &c. And to thee my servant Rubio, all
that I have in my Pockets, as also the Handkercher wrought with Coventry
blew, and my Needle-case and Thimble, &c. But good Rubio;
put my sneezing box with me into the Tomb, it will clear my eies.
The Valiant soul of Don Præpontio.
(dies.)
Alo.
But where's my Neece? Varina! Oh! She's gone;
This is some cursed plot; let's in, and send
Poasts to way-lay them, e'er they take to Sea,
And bring them back to judgements bar. Hard fate!
What plagues of grief hang on my aged head,
And drop their vengeance on my hoary haires
In showers of blood? Was't not enough my daughter
Defam'd my Family by her goat-like lust;
But now my Neece, Varina must conspire
With Villaines to disgrace me? Could her baseness
No safety finde, but by her Husbands blood?
Rebellious Children! Know a Fathers hand
Provok'd, strikes hard; and though I do endure
Your faults awhile, my vengeance shall strike sure.
Exeunt.
Heb.
Oh! My sweet Master. I am undone, I am undone, many
an Ashwednesday and Goodfriday nights supper must my belly make; I
was no sooner come from being an under-Scullion to be an under-Cooke;
but now I must Crab-like crawle backward from being an
under-Cooke to be an under-Scullion, or any thing! Oh, miserable!
Well, I will go in, and fill my belly now, though I fast the longer
afterwards; if fate has decreed that all the fat must be in the fire, it
must be so; my belly must pray patience; I fear this next year will
be nothing but Ember weeks.
Exit.
| The Bastard | |