 | The Spanish Curat |  |
Scæna Prima.
Enter Angelo, Milanes, Arsenio.Arsenio.
Leandro paid all.
Mil.
'Tis his usuall custome,
And requisite he should: he has now put off
The Funerall black, (your rich heirs weares with joy,
When he pretends to weep for his dead Father,)
Your gathering Sires, so long heape muck together,
That their kind Sonnes, 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 befalne
To his Father, in the other world, I ask not,
I am sure his prayre is heard: would I could use one
For mine, in the same method.
Arsen.
Fy upon thee.
This is prophane,
Mil.
Good Doctor, doe not schoole me,
For a fault you are not free from: On my life
Were all Heires in Corduba, put too their oathes
They would confesse with me, 'tis a sound Tenet:
I am sure Leandro do's.
Ars.
He is th'owner
Of a faire Estate.
Mil.
And fairly he deserves it,
He's a royall Fellow: yet observes a meane
In all his courses, carefull to on whom
He showres his bounties: he that's liberall
To all alike, may doe a Good by chance,
But never out of Judgement: This invites
The prime men of the Citie to frequent
All places he resorts to, and are happy
In his sweet Converse.
Ars.
Don Jamie the Brother
To the Grandee Don Henrique, appeares much taken
With his behaviour.
Mil.
There is something more in't:
Hee needs his Purse, and knowes how to make use on't,
'Tis now in fashion for your Don, that's poore,
To vow all Leagues of friendship with a Merchant
That can supply his wants, and howsoe're
Don Jamie's noble borne, his elder Brother
Don Henrique rich, and his Revenues long since
Encreasing by marrying with a wealthy Heire
Call'd Madam Violante, he yet holds
A hard hand o're Jamie, allowing him
A bare annuity onely.
Ars.
Yet 'tis said
He hath no child, and by the Lawes of Spaine
If he die without issue, Don Iamie
Inherits his Estate.
Mil.
Why that's the reason
Of their so many jarres: 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 beares 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 povertie) he would starve
Rather then aske a courtesie; He's the Sonne
Of a poore cast-Captaine, one Octavio
And She, that once was calld th'faire Iacinta,
Is happy in being his Mother: for his sake.
Enter Jamie, Leandro, and Ascanio.
(Though in their Fortunes falne) they are esteem'd of,
And cherish'd by the best. O here they come,
I now may spare his Character, but observe him,
Hee'l justifie my report.
Ia.
My good Ascanio
Repaire 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 sawcie.
Leandro.
You cannot be
Too frequent, where you are so much desir'd:
And give me leave (deare friend) to be your Rivall
In part of his Affection; I will buy it
At any rate.
Ia.
Stood I but now possess'd
28
I then would make it cleare 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.
Ars.
I beseech you
That my refusall of so great an offer
May make no ill construction, 'tis not pride
(That common vice is farre from my condition)
That makes you a denyall to receive
A favour I should sue for: nor the fashion
Which the country followes, in which to be a servant
In those that groan beneath the heavy weight
Of povertie is held an argument
Of a base and abject mind, I wish my yeares
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 poore man, he was rich
In reputation, and wounds fairly taken.
Nor am I by his ill successe deterr'd,
I rather feel a strong desire that swayes me
To follow his Profession, and if heaven
Hath marked me out to be a man, how proud,
In the service of my Country, should I be,
To traile a pike under your brave command.
There, I would follow you as a guid to honour,
Though all the horrours of the Warre made up
To stop my passage.
Ia.
Thou art a hopefull Boye,
And it was bravely spoken: For this answer,
I love thee more then ever.
Mil.
Pitty such seeds
Of promising courage should not grow and prosper
Ang.
What ever his reputed Parents bee,
He hath a mind that speakes him right and noble.
Lea.
You make him blush: it needs not sweet Ascanio,
We may heare praises when they are deserv'd,
Or modestie unwounded. By my life
I would adde something to the building up
So fair a mind, and if till you are fit
To beare Armes in the field, you'l spend some yeares
In Salamanca, I'le supply your studies
With all conveniences.
Ars.
Your goodnesse (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 poore boy and a stranger) but a heart
Bound to your service? with what willingnes
I would receive (good Sir) your noble offer,
Heaven can beare witnes for me: but alas
Should I embrace the meanes to raise my fortunes,
I must destroy the lives of my poore Parents
(To whom 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
VVhich others bestow on me serves to sustain 'em,
And to forsake them in their age, in me
VVere more then murther.
Enter Henrique.
Ang.
This is a kind of begging
VVould make a Broker charitable,
Mil.
Here (sweet heart)
I wish that it were more.
Lean.
VVhen this is spent,
Seek for supply from me
Ja.
Thy pietie
For ever be remembred: nay take all,
Though 'twere my exhibition to a Royall
For one whole yeare.
Asc.
High heavens reward your goodnes.
Hen.
So Sir, is this a slip of your own grafting,
You are so prodigall?
Ia.
A slip Sir?
Hen.
Yes,
A slip; or call it by the proper name
Your Bastard.
Ia.
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?
Ia.
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 yeare before me.
Lean.
Be more temperate.
Ia.
I neither can nor will, unlesse I learn it
By this 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 moneths elder, let that be
Forgotten, and let his Parasites remember
One quality of worth or vertue in him
That may authorise him, to be a censurer
Of me, or of my manners, and I will
Acknowledge him for a tutor, til then, never
Hen.
From whom have you your meanes Sir?
Ia.
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?
Ja.
I am sure it shall I'le sink else
For sooner I will seek aid from a whore,
Then 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
Lea.
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 meanes, 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 mine own, without your licence.
Ia.
'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 ha's a better steward, then I have of him.
Hen.
Your steward Sir?
27
Yes, and a provident one:
Why, he knowes I am given to large Expence,
And therefore layes up for me: could you believe els
That he, that sixteen years hath worne the yoke
Of barren wedlock, without hope of issue,
(His Coffer's full, his Lands, and Vineyards fruitfull)
Could be so sold to base, and sordid thrift,
As almost to deny himselfe, the meanes
And necessaries of life? Alas, he knowes
The Lawes of Spaine appoint me for his heire,
That all must come to me, if I out-live him,
(Which sure I must doe, by the course of Nature,)
And the assistance of good Mirth, and Seck,
How ever you prove Melancholy.
Hen.
If I live,
Thou dearly shalt repent this,
Ja.
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.
Ja.
Continue still
The excellent Husband, and joyne Farme to Farme,
Suffer no Lordship, that in a cleare day
Falls in the prospect of your coveteous eye
To be an others; Forget you are a Grandee
Take use upon use, and cut the throats of heires
With cozening Mort-gages: rack your poore Tenants,
Till they looke like so many Skeletons
For want of Food; And when that Widowes curses,
The ruines of ancient Families, teares of Orphans
Have hurried you to the divell. ever remember
All was rak'd up, for me, (your thankfull Brother)
That will dance merrily upon your Grave,
And perhaps give a double Pistolet
To some poore needy Frier, to say a Masse
To keep your Ghost from walking.
Hen.
That the Law
Should force me to endure this!
Ia.
Verely,
When this shall come to passe (as sure it will)
If you can find a loope-hole, though in hell'
To looke on my behaviour, you shall see me
Ransack your Iron Chests, and once againe
Pluto's flame-colour'd Daughter shall be free
To dominier in Taverns, Maskes, and Revells
As she was us'd before she was your Captive.
Me thinkes the meere conceipt of it, should make you
Goe home sick and distemper'd, if it do's.
I'le send you a Doctor of mine owne, and after
Take order for your Funerall.
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 owne distemper.
Ia.
Not a whit
Now he is from mine eye, I can be merry,
Forget the cause, and him: all plagues goe with him,
Let's talke of something els: what newes is stirring?
Nothing to passe 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.
Lea.
What have we to doe with them? Let us discourse
Of what concernes our selves. 'Tis now in fashion
To have you Gallants set downe, in a Taverne,
Whatthe Arch-Dukes purpose is the next spring, & what
Defence my Lords (the States) prepare: what course
The Emperour takes against the encroching Turke,
And whither his Moony-Standards are design'd
For Persia or Polonia: and all this
The wiser sort of State-Wormes seeme to know
Better then their owne Affaires: this is discourse
Fit for the Counsell it concernes; we are young,
And if that I might give the Theame, 'twere better
To talke of handsome women.
Mil.
And that's one,
Almost as generall.
Ars.
Yet none agree
Who are the fairest.
Lea.
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 sweare,
(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 waies,
And ended in the Dutch; for, to coole her selfe,
She kiss'd him drunke in the morning.
Ia.
Wee may spare
The travell of our tongues in forraigne Nations,
When in Corduba, if you dare give credit
To my report (for I have seene her, Gallants)
There lives a woman) of a meane birth too,
And meanly match'd) whose all-excelling Forme
Disdaines comparison with any She
That puts in for a faire one, and though you borrow
From every Country of the Earth the best
Of those perfections, which the Clymat yeilds
To help to make her up, if put in Ballance,
This will weigh-downe the Scale.
Lea.
You talke of wonders.
Ia.
She is indeed a wonder, and so kept,
And, as the world deserv'd not to behold
What curious Nature made without a patterne,
Whose Copy she hath lost too, she's shut up,
Sequestred from the world.
Lea.
Who is the owner
Of such a Jem? I am fir'd.
Ia.
One Bartolus,
A wrangling Advocate.
Ars.
A knave on Record.
Mil.
I am sure he cheated me of the best part
Of my Estate.
Ia.
Some Businesse 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 heape, will dare the Divell,
And all the plagues of darknesse: and to these
So jealous, as if you would paralell
Old Argus to him, you must multiply
His Eies an hundred times: of these, none sleepe.
He that would charme the heaviest lid, must hire
A better Mercurie; then Iove made use of:
Blesse your selves from the thought of him and her.
For 'twill be labour lost: So farewell Signiors.—
Exit.
Ars.
Leandro? in a dreame? wake man for shame.
28
Trayned into a fooles paradise with a tale
Of an imagin'd Forme,
Lea.
Iamie is noble,
And with a forg'd Tale would not wrong his Friend,
Nor am I so much fired 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 'ore,
Mil.
I would not have thee fool'd
Lea.
I have strange Engines,
Fashioning here: and Bartolus on the Anville
Diswade 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.
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