University of Virginia Library

Scene IIII.

Face
, Kastril, Da. Pliant, Svbtle, Svrly.
Come ladie: I knew, the Doctor would not leaue,
Till he had found the very nick of her fortune.

Kas.
To be a Countesse, say you? A Spanish Countesse, sir.

Pli.
Why? is that better then an English Countesse?

Fac.
Better? 'Slight, make you that a question, ladie?

Kas.
Nay, shee is a foole, Captaine, you must pardon her.

Fac.
Aske from your courtier, to your innes of court-man,
To your mere millaner: they will tell you all,
Your Spanish iennet is the best horse. Your Spanish
Stoupe is the best garbe. Your Spanish beard
Is the best cut. Your Spanish ruffes are the best
Weare. Your Spanish Pauin the best daunce.
Your Spanish titillation in a gloue
The best perfume. And, for your Spanish pike,
And Spanish blade, let your poore Captaine speake.
Here comes the Doctor.

Svb.
My most honor'd ladie,
(For so I am now to stile you, hauing found
By this my scheme, you are to vnder-goe
An honorable fortune, very shortly.)
What will you say now, if some—

Fac.
I ha'told her all, sir.
And her right worshipfull brother, here, that shee shall be
A Countesse: doe not delay 'hem, sir. A Spanish Countesse.

Svb.
Still, my scarse worshipfull Captaine, you can keepe
No secret. Well, since he has told you, madame,
Doe you forgiue him, and I doe.

Kas.
Shee shall doe that, sir.
I'le looke to't, 'tis my charge.

Svb.
Well then. Nought rests
But that shee fit her loue, now, to her fortune.

Pli.
Truely, I shall neuer brooke a Spaniard.

Svb.
No?

Pli.
Neuer, sin' eighty-eight could I abide 'hem,
And that was some three yeere afore I was borne, in truth.

Svb.
Come, you must loue him, or be miserable:
Choose, which you will.

Fac.
By this good rush, perswade her,
Shee will crie straw-berries else, within this twelue-month.

Svb.
Nay, shads, and mackrell, which is worse.

Fac.
Indeed, sir?

Kas.
Gods lid, you shall loue him, or Ile kick you.

Pli.
Why?
Ile doe as you will ha' me, brother.

Kas.
Doe,
Or by this hand, I'll maull you.

Fac.
Nay, good sir,
Be not so fierce.

Svb.
No, my enraged child,
Shee will be rul'd. What, when shee comes to tast
The pleasures of a Countesse! to be courted—

Fac.
And kist, and ruffled!

Svb.
I, behind the hangings.

Fac.
And then come forth in pomp!

Svb.
And know her state!

Fac.
Of keeping all th'idolaters o'the chamber
Barer to her, then at their prayers!

Svb.
Is seru'd
Vpon the knee!

Fac.
And has her pages, huishers,
Foot-men, and coaches—

Svb.
Her sixe mares—

Fac.
Nay, eight!

Svb.
To hurry her through London, to th'Exchange,
Bet'lem, the China-houses—

Fac.
Yes, and haue
The citizens gape at her, and praise her tyres!
And my-lords goose-turd bands, that rides with her!

Kas.
Most braue! By this hand, you are not my suster,
If you refuse.

Pli.
I will not refuse, brother.

Svr.
Que es esto, Sennores, que non se venga?
Esta tardanza me mata!

Fac.
It is the Count come!
The Doctor knew he would be here, by his art.

Svb.
En gallanta Madama, Don! gallantissima!

Svr.
Por tódos los dioses, la mas acabada
Hermosura, que he visto en mi vìda!

Fac.
Is't not a gallant language, that they speake?

Kas.
An admirable language! Is't not French?

Fac.
No, Spanish, sir.

Kas.
It goes like law-French,
And that, they say, is the court-liest language.

Fac.
List, sir.

Svr.
El Sol ha perdido su lumbre, con el
Resplandor, que tràe esta dama. Valga me dios!

Fac.
He' admires your sister.

Kas.
Must not shee make curtsie?

Svb.
'Ods will, shee must goe to him, man; and kisse him!
It is the Spanish fashion, for the women
To make first court.

Fac.
'Tis true he tells you, sir:
His art knowes all.

Svr.
Por que no se acùde?

Kas.
He speakes to her, I thinke?

Fac.
That he do's sir.

Svr.
Por el amor de dios, que es esto, que se tàrda?

Kas.
Nay, see: shee will not vnderstand him! Gull.
Noddy.

Pli.
What say you brother?

Kas.
Asse, my suster,
Goe kusse him, as the cunning man would ha'you,
I'll thrust a pinne i'your buttocks else.

Fac.
O, no sir.

Svr.
Sennora mia, mi persona muy indigna esta
Alle gar à tànta Hermosura.

Fac.
Do's he not vse her brauely?

Kas.
Brauely, i-faith!

Fac.
Nay, he will vse her better.

Kas.
Doe you thinke so?

Svr.
Sennora, si sera seruida, entremus.

Kas.
Where do's he carry her?

Fac.
Into the garden, sir;
Take you no thought: I must interpret for her.

Svb.
Giue Dol the word. Come, my fierce child, aduance,
Wee'll to our quarrelling lesson againe.

Kas.
Agreed.
I loue a Spanish Boy, with all my heart.

Svb.
Nay, and by this meanes, sir, you shall be brother
To a great Count.

Kas.
I, I knew that, at first.
This match will aduance the house of the Kastrils.

Svb.
'Pray god, your sister proue but pliant.

Kas.
Why,
Her name is so: by her other husband.

Svb.
How!

Kas.
The widdow Pliant. Knew you not that?

Svb.
No faith, sir.
Yet, by erection of her figure, I gest it.
Come, let's goe practice.

Kas.
Yes, but doe you thinke, Doctor,
I e'er shall quarrell well?

Svb.
I warrant you.