University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Street in Seville. Enter a knot of Citizens.
First Citizen.
Her grand-aunt was a conjurer, and made—

Second Citizen.
An ass of you. I see no witchcraft there.

First C.
Why, you—

Third Citizen.
Be civil. Fair words are fair gifts.

First C.
I say, her grand-aunt was a conjurer—

Second C.
So are not you.

Third C.
Well, patience hears long tales:
But let us listen.

First C.
And she made, they say,
A magic girdle—

Second C.
Girth for her said ass—
Being a stumbling beast; and to the girth
She fixed a bladder full of solid lies,
That rattle, like the coxcomb of a fool,
Whene'er the said ass jogs.

Third C.
O! neighbors, neighbors,
Wit is a sword, and wrangling feeds the leech.

First C.
I heed him not.

Second C.
'T is not for lack of ears.
You are a foul kind of chameleon,
Who live upon the floating breath of slander;
You 'd go a journey to bring home a lie,
And be so fattened on it, e'er you came,
Your wife would scarcely know you. You pass life
In raking up such shreds of calumny
As none will own, things men cast out of doors,
With stealthy blushes: yet you treasure them,
And hang your filthy garbage in our sight,
As if the saints had worn it. Give report
Stamp base enough, and 't is your current coin;
While honest gold you smell at, and return.
You 'd believe Judas when he spoke in jest,
Yet doubt the true Apostles on their oaths.
If you had any seeds of goodness in you,
I 'd rake you over, but I 'd make them sprout!

First C.
Pray, have you done, or are you out of breath?

Third C.
Let Satan give instruction to his own.
An angry teacher trains a stupid school;
And so, farewell! Short partings give short pains.

[Going.]
Second C.
Well said, brown wisdom! I will give him o'er,
If you'll return. I'll miss your sentences;
They come like texts into a dull discourse,
Seasoning the matter with a taste of heaven.

Third C.
Thank you 's soon said. Our gossip's patient, too,
And that moves mountains.

Fourth Citizen.
Let us have the tale.

First C.
Nay, if he snub me—

Second C.
I will not, in faith.
Lie on,—I'll listen, if I can't believe.

First C.
Well, the grand aunt of Doña Leonor
Was an enchantress, and could make the stars
Go backward in their orbits.—

Second C.
Did she ever?

First C.
I know not; but she could.

Second C.
I'd have the proof.

Third C.
Apt swearers are apt liars.

Second C.
True, indeed;
I break my promise.

First C.
So, one night, she made
A wondrous girdle, from the inner skin
Of maiden's hearts that broken were of love.—

Second C.
A rare material!

First C.
Then she took the belt,
And held it o'er the infernal fumes, until—

Second C.
She sneezed, and dropped it in?

First C.
No, no, indeed;
Till it became invisible to all—

Second C.
That I believe.

First C.
Save her who wears it. And this girdle she,
In a dark hour, gave Doña Leonor;
Saying, its magic had the power to hold
In abject love whatever man she willed.
She chose Alfonso.—

Second C.
She struck high at once.
But why not choose him, ere he chose the queen?

First C.
The belt was not then fashioned.

Second C.
And they say—
Let me take up your story—that at times,
In the full moon, when fools are very rife,
This magic girdle presses her about,
And doth so burn her with infernal flames,
That she cries out, in direful agony—
Curses her aunt, as if she were no kin,
And says— [Pauses.]


All.
O, Lord! what says she?

Second C.
Things like this—
“I can tell asses, if I hear them bray!”
Who shall want audience for a silly tale?
The loveliest woman on Castilian earth,
The gentlest dame that ever drew our air—
She, the epitome of excellence,
The flowering top and glory of her sex—
She to be rated as a sorceress,
By filthy rascals whose best breath would be
An insult to her presence! Get you home,
And grind your knee-balls to the very bones,
In thanks to her, and prayers for your base selves!—
Foh! you are odious.

[Exit.]
First C.
There 's a fellow for you!—
A very infidel, who scarce believes
In sorcery itself. The rude-tongued fool!
Would I had throttled him! This comes, I trow,
Of home-bred ignorance. I 've been to Rome—
Ay, and to Paris—where I 've seen more witches—
Real sturdy witches, young and old, forsooth—
Burnt at the stake, upon a holiday,
Than I have fingers to these fellow hands.
I tell you, one time—

(Enter a Citizen hastily.)
Fourth C.
What 's the news, good friend?

Fifth Citizen.
Gibraltar is surrounded by the king,
And must surrender ere another week.
The plague has broken out—

All.
The plague! the plague!

Third C.
Who told you so?

Fifth C.
One from Gibraltar.

All.
(Running from him.)
Ha!

First C.
Out of our sight! thou villain, as thou art,
To speak with clean men! Take thy plague away,
Or we'll fall on thee!

Fifth C.
I am sound.

First C.
Thou liest!
Thou 'rt one great sore.

Fifth C.
Indeed, I feel not well.

Third C.
Caution 's a famous doctor: I'll be off.
Better go laughing, than remain to weep.

[Exit.]
Fifth C.
Pray, friends, assist me! I 've a burning pain
Across the temples, and—

All.
The plague! the plague!

First C.
Thou desperate wretch, to issue from thy house
In this condition! Bear thy malady
Back to thy wife and children, like a Christian.
Nay, if thou 'lt not be going, I'll away.

[Exit with the others.]
(Reënter Second Citizen.)
Fifth C.
O! I shall perish!

[Lies down.]
Second Citizen.
What's the matter here?
Ill, and no creature nigh! What is it, friend?

Fifth C.
I tell you frankly, sir, because you speak
From a kind heart, I have the plague.

Second C.
Poh, poh!
You 're clean as snow. I feel no fever here.—

Fifth C.
'Sdeath! do not touch me!

Second C.
What an eye you have!
Clear as a sunbeam. Let me see your tongue.
Thou move compassion by thy false disease—
Stir a man's heart to pity by thy groans!
Thou arrant beggar, art thou not ashamed
To face detection?

Fifth C.
On my life, I feel
A deal improved by your encouragement.
[Rises.]
The pain has left my head.—

Second C.
Not yet a while;
Thou 'lt feel it shortly. (Strikes him.)
Has the fit returned?
Impostor—counterfeit—sham plague!

[Beating him.]
Fifth C.
O!—O!

Second C.
I'll teach thee to act Lazarus in the streets,
For my annoyance! Get thee to thy home,
And play thy pranks before thy intimates;
Or I will cudgel all the flesh from thee,
And drive thee homeward in thy naked bones!
Out, thou flea-bitten, verminating rogue!

[Exit, beating him out.]