 | The Spanish Gipsie |  |
Actus Secundus.
Enter Alvarez, Carlo, and Antonio.Al.
Come my brave boyes, the Taylors sheers has cut us into shapes
fitting our Trades.
Car.
A trade free as a Masons.
Ant.
A reade brave as a Courtiers, for some of them doe but shark,
and so do we.
Al.
Gipsies, but no tann'd ones, no Red-oker rascalls umberd
with soot and bacon as the English Gipsies are, that sally out upon
Pullen, lie in ambuscado for a rope of Onions, as if they were Welsh
Free-booters, no, our stile has higher steps to climbe over, Spanish
Gipsies, noble Gipsies.
Car.
I never knew nobility in basenes.
Alo.
Basenes! the arts of Cocoquismo, and Germania us'd by our Spanish
Pickeroes (I meane Filching, Foysting, Niming, Idling) we defie; none
in our Colledge shall study 'em, such Graduates we degrade.
An.
I am glad Spaine has an honest company.
Wee'l entertaine no Mounty-bancking Stroule,
No Piper, Fidler, Tumbler through small hoopes;
No Ape carrier, Baboon bearer,
We must have nothing stale, triviall or base:
Am I your Major domo, your Teniente,
Your Captaine, your Commander?
An.
Who but you?
Al.
So then, now being enter'd Madrill the inchanted Circle of
Spaine, have a care to your new Lessons.
Both.
Wee listen.
Al.
Plow deepe furrowes, to catch deep root in th'opinion of the
best, Grandos Dukes, Marquesses, Condes, and other Titulados, shew
your sports to none but them, what can you doe with 3. or 4. Fooles
in a dish, and a block-head cut into sippets?
An.
Scurvy meate.
Al.
The Lacedemonians threw their Beards over their shoulders,
to observe what men did behinde them as well as before, you must do.
Both.
We shall never doo't, our muzzles are too short.
Al.
Be not English Gipsies, in whose companie a man's not sure of
the eares of his head they so pilfer; no such angling; what you pull to
Land catch faire; there is no Iron so foule but may be guilded, and
our Gipsie profession how base soever in shew, may acquire commendations.
Car.
Gipsies, and yet pick no pockets?
Al.
Infamous and roguy, so handle your Webbs, that they never
come to be woven in the Loome of Justice; take any thing that's
given you, Purses, Knives, Handkerchers, Rosaries, Tweezes, any toy,
any money, refuse not a Maruade, a blanck, Feather by Feather birds
build Nests, graine peckd up after graine, makes Pullen fat.
An.
The best is we Spaniards are no great feeders.
Al.
If one City cannot maintaine us, away to another, our horses
must have wings; does Madrill yeild no money? Sivell shall; is Sivell
close fisted? Vallidoly is open; so Cordica, so Toledo: doe not our
Spanish Wines please us? Italian can then, French can, preferments
bow is hard to draw, set all your strengths to it, what you get, keep, all
the World is a second Rochill, make all sure, for you must not look to
have your Dinner serv'd in with Trumpets.
Cor.
No, no, Sackbuts shall serve us.
Ala.
When you have money, hide it; sell all our horses but one.
Ant.
Why one?
'Tis enough to carry our apparell and trinkers and the lesse our
ambler eates, our cheere is the better; none be sluttish, none theevish,
none lazy, all Bees, no Drones, and our hives shall yeild us Honey.
Enter Eugenia, Pretiosa, Christiana, Cardochia.
Pre.
See Father, how I am fitted; how do you like
This our new stock of cloaths?
Al.
My sweet Girle excellent; see their old robes be safe.
Card.
That sir, I'le looke to,
Whilst in my house you lie, what thiefe so ever
Layes hands upon your goods, call but to me
I'le make the satisfaction.
Al.
Thanks good Hostesse.
Card.
People already throng into the Inne,
And call for you into their private rooms.
Al.
No Chamber Comedies, Hostesse plie you your tide; flow
let 'em to a full Sea, but wee'l shew no pastime till after dinner, and
that in a full ring of good people, the best, the noblest, no closset sweet
meates, pray tell 'em so.
Card.
I shall.
Exit.
Alu.
How old is Pretiosa?
Eug.
Twelve and upwards.
Pre.
I am in my teenes assure you Mother, as little as I am, I have
been taken for an Elephant, Castles and Lordships offer'd to be set
upon me, if I would beare 'em; Why your smallest Clocks are the
pretiest things to carry about Gentlemen.
Eug.
Nay Child thou wilt be tempted.
Pre.
Tempted! tho I am no marke in respect of a huge But, yet I
can tell you great bubbers have shot at me, and shot golden Arrowes,
but I my selfe gave ayme, thus; wide, foure Bowes; short, three and
a halfe; they that crack me shall finde me as hard as a Nut of Galisia,
a Parrot I am, but my teeth too tender to crack a wantons Almond.
Al.
Thou art my noble Girle, a many Dons
Will not believe but that thou art a Boy
In Womens Cloaths, and to try that conclusion
To see if thou beest Alcumy, or no,
They'l throw down Gold in Musses, but Pretiosa
Let these proud Sakers and Jer-falcons flie,
Do not thou move a wing, be to thy selfe,
And not a changeling.
Pre.
How! I not a Changeling!
I'le change my selfe into a thousand shapes
To court our brave Spectators; I'le change my postures
Into a thousand different variations,
To draw even Ladies eyes to follow mine;
I'le change my voyce into a thousand tones
To chaine attention, not a changeling Father,
None but my selfe shall play the changeling.
Al.
Do what thou wilt Pretiosa.
What noise is this?
A beating within. Enter Cardochia.
Car.
Here's Gentlemen swear all the oaths in Spaine they have seen
you, must see you, and will see you.
Al.
To drown this noyse let 'em enter.
Enter Sancho and Soto.
San.
Is your Play-house an Inne? a Gentleman cannot see you without
crumpling his Taffaty cloake.
Soto.
Nay more then a Gentleman, his man being a deminitive Don
too.
San.
Is this the little ape does the fine tricks?
Pre.
Come aloft Jack little ape!
San.
Would my Jack might come aloft, please you to set the water
Mill, with the Ivory cogs in't a grinding my handfull of purging
comfetts.
Soto.
My Master desires to have you loose from your company.
Ped.
Am I a Pigeon thinke you to be caught with Cummin-seeds?
a flie to glew my wings to sweete-meates and so be tane?
San.
When do your gambolls begin?
Al.
Not till we ha din'd.
San.
Foote then your bellies will be so full you'l be able to do nothing,
Soto prithee set a good face on't for I cannot, and give the little
Monkey that Letter.
Soto.
Walke off and hum to your selfe: I dedicate (sweet destiny,
into whose hand every Spaniard desires to put a Distaffe) these
lines of Love.
Eu.
What Love, what's the matter?
Soto.
Grave Mother Bumby the markes out a your mouth.
Al.
What's the Paper, from whom comes it?
Soto.
The comodity wrapd up in the Paper, are Verses, the warming
Pan that puts heat into 'em, you fire-braind bastard of Helicon.
What's your Masters Name?
Soto.
His name is Don Tomazo Portacarico, Nunckle to young Don
Hortado de Mendonza, Cosen german to the Conde de Tindilla, and
naturall brother to Francisco de Bavadilla, one of the Commendadors
of Alcantaro, a Gentleman of long standing.
Pre.
Verses! I love good ones, let me see 'em.
San.
Good ones! if they were not good ones, they should not
come from mee, at the name of Verses I can stand on no ground.
Pre.
Here's gold too, who's is this?
San.
Whoe's but yours? if there been any fault in the Verses, I can
mend it extempore; for a stich in a mans stocken not taken up in time
ravells out all the rest.
Soto.
Botcherly Poetry, botcherly.
Pre.
Verses and gold! these then are golden Verses.
San.
Had every Verse a Pearle in the aye it should be thine.
Pre.
A pearle in mine eye! I thanke you for that, doe you wish
mee blinde?
San.
I by this light doe I, that you may look upon nobodies crime
but mine.
Pre.
I should be blind indeede!
Al.
Pray Sir read your Verses.
San.
Shall I sing 'em or say 'em?
Al.
Which you can best.
Soto.
Both scurvily.
San.
I'le set out a throate then.
Hum buz, buz, hum, I first would bring
Home Honey to your Hive, and there leave my sting.
Soto.
He manders.
San.
Oh that I were a Goose to feede
At your barne-dore, such Corne I need,
Nor would I bite, but Gozlings breede.
Soto.
And Ganders.
San.
Oh that I were your Need'les eye,
How through your Linnen would I flie;
And never leave one stich awry!
Soto.
Hee'l towze yee.
San.
Oh would I were one of your haires,
That you might combo out all my cares;
And kill the Nits of my dspaires.
Soto.
Oh Lowzie.
How! Lowzie! can Rimes be Lowzie?
Omnes.
No, no, th'are excellent.
Al.
But are these all your own?
San.
Mine own! wud I might never see Inck drop out of the nose
of any Goose quil more, if velvet Cloaks have not clap'd me for 'em,
doe you like 'em?
Pre.
Past all compare, they shall be writ out
When y'have as good or better.
For these and those pray booke me down your debtor.
Your Paper is long liv'd, having two soules,
Verses and Gold.
San.
Would both those were in thee pritty little body, sweete
Gipsie.
Pre.
A Pistolet and this Paper, 'twould choake me.
Soto.
No more then a bribe does a Constable; the Verses will easily
into your head, then buy what you like with the Gold, and put it into
your belly, I hope I ha chaw'd a good reason for you.
San.
Will you chaw my Jennet ready sir?
Soto.
And eate him down if you say the word.
Exit.
San.
Now the coxcombe my man is gon, because y'are but a
Country company of Strowles, I thinke your stock is thred-bare, here
mend it with this Cloake.
Al.
What do you meane sir?
San.
This Scarfe, this Feather, and this Hat.
Omnes.
Deare Signior.
San.
If they be never so deare, pox 'o this hot Ruffe; little Gipsie,
wear thou that.
Al.
Your meaning sir.
San.
My meaning is not to be an Asse, to carry a burthen when I
need not, if you shew your Gambols forty Leagues hence, I'le gallop
to 'em; Farwel old Gray-beard, adue Mother mumble-crust, morrow
my little Wart of beauty.
Exit.
Enter Don John Muffled.
Al.
So harvest will come in, such Sunshine days
Will bring in golden sheafes, our Markets raise,
Away to your taske.
Exit. Don John pulls Pretiosa back.
Pre.
Mother, Grand-mother!
Jo.
Two rowes of Kindred in one mouth!
Eu.
Be not uncivill sir, thus have you us'd her thrice.
Jo.
Thrice! three thousand more: may I not use mine own?
Your own! by what tenure?
Jo.
Cupid entailes this Land upon me, I have wooed thee, thou art
coy, by this aire I am a Bull of Tarisa, wild, mad for thee: you
told I was some copper coyne, I am a Knight of Spaine, Don Francisco
de Carcomo my Father, I Don John his Sonne, this paper tells
you more, grumble not old Granam, (heeres gold) for I must by this
white hand, marry this cherry-lip'd, sweet-mouth'd villaine.
Pre.
There's a thing call'd quando.
Jo.
Instantly.
Eu.
Art thou so willing?
Jo.
Peace threescore and five.
Pre.
Marry me leate a Chicken e're it be out o'th shell! I'le weare
no shackles, liberty is sweet; that I have, that I'le hold, marry me! can
Gold and Lead mix together? a Dimond, & a button of Christal fit one
ring? you are too high for me, I am too low; you too great, I too little.
Eu.
I pray leave her sir, and take your Gold againe.
Pre.
Or if you dote, as you say, let me try you do this.
Jo.
Any thing, kill the great Turke, pluck out the Magul's Eyeteath;
in earnest Pretiosa any thing!
Pre.
Your taste is soon set down, turne Gipsie for two years, be one
of us, if in that time you mislike not me, nor I you, here's my hand
farwell.
Eu.
There's enough for your Gold, witty Child.
Exit.
Jo.
Turne Gipsie! for two years! a capering Trade,
And I in th'end may keepe a dancing Schoole,
Having serv'd for't, Gipsie! I must turne,
Oh beauty! the Suns fires cannot so burne.
Exit.
Enter Clara.
Cla.
I have offended, yet oh Heaven! thou knowst
How much I have abhor'd even from my birth,
A thought that tended to immodest folly;
Yet I have fallen, thoughts with disgraces strive,
And thus I live, and thus I die alive.
Enter Pedro, and Maria.
Pe.
Fie Clara, thou dost court calamity too much.
Ma.
Yes Girle, thou dost.
Pe.
Why should we fret our eyes out with our teares!
Weary complaints, 'tis fruitlesse, childish,
Impatience, for when mischiefe hath wound up
The full weight of the Ravishers foul Life,
The poyse will by degrees, sinke down his Soule
To a much lower, much more lasting ruine
Then our joynt wrongs can challenge.
Ped.
Darknesse it selfe
Will change nights sable brow, into a Sun-beame
For a discovery, and be sure
When ever we can learne what monster 'twas
Hath rob'd thee of the Jewell held so precious,
Our vengeance shall be noble.
Pe.
Royall, any thing;
Till then lets live securely: to proclaime
Our sadnesse were meere vanity.
Cla.
A needs not,
I'le study to be merry.
Pe.
We are punish'd
Maria justly, covetousnesse to match
Our Daughter to that matchlesse piece of ignorance,
Our foolish Ward, hath drawn this curse upon us.
Ma.
I feare it has!
Pe.
Off with this face of griefe.
Enter Lewys, and Diego.
Die.
Here comes Don Lewys; noble sir.
Lew.
My Lord,
I trust I have you and your Ladies leave
To exchange a word with your faire Daughter.
Pe.
Leave and welcome, harke Maria, your eare too.
Die.
Mine my Lord.
Lew.
Deare Clara, I have often su'd for Love,
And now desire you would at last be pleas'd
To stile me yours.
Cla.
Mine eyes ne'r saw that Gentleman
Whom I more nobly in my heart respected,
Then I have you, yet you must Sir excuse me,
If I resolve to use a while that freedome
My younger dayes allow.
Lew.
But shall I hope?
Cla.
You will do injury to better fortunes
To your own Merit, Greatnesse, and Advancement,
Which I beseech you not to slack.
Then heare me,
If ever I embrace another choyce,
Untill I know you elsewhere match'd, may all
The chiefe of my Desires finde scorne and ruine.
Cla.
Oh me!
Lew.
Why sigh you Lady?
Cla.
Deede my Lord I am not well.
Lew.
Then all Discourse is tedious,
I'le chuse some fitter time; till when faire Clara.—
Cla.
You shall not be unwelcome hither sir;
That's all that I dare promise.
Lew.
Diego!
Die.
My Lord!
Lew.
What says Don Pedro?
Die.
Hee'l goe with you.
Lew.
Leave us:
Shall I my Lord, entreate your privacy?
Pe.
Withdraw Maria, wee'l follow presently.
Exit.
Lew.
The great Corigidor, whose politick streame
Of popularity, glides on the shore
Of every vulgar praise, hath often urged me
To be a Suitor to his Catholick Majesty,
For a repeale from banishment for him
Who slew my Father, complements in vowes,
And strange well studied promises of friendship,
But what is new to mee, still as he Courts
Assistance for Alvarez my grand enemy,
Still he protests how ignorant he is,
Whether Alvarez be alive or dead?
To morrow is the day we have appointed
For meeting at the Lord Francisco's house,
The Earle of Carcomo; now my good Lord,
The sum of my request is, you will please
To lend your presence there, and witnesse wherein
Our joynt accord consists.
Ped.
You shall command it.
Lew.
But first as you are noble, I beseech you
Helpe mee with your advice, what you conceave
Of great Fernando's importunity,
Or whether you imagine that Alvarez
Pe.
It is a question sir
Beyond my resolution, I remember
The difference betwixt your noble Father,
And Conde de Alvarez, how it sprung
From a meer trifle first, a cast of Hawks,
Whose made the swifter flight, whose could mount highest,
Lie longest on the wing. From change of words
Their controversie grew to blows, from blowes
To Parties, thence to Faction, and in short
I well remember how our streets were frighted
With brawles, whose end was bloud, till when no friends
Could mediate their discords: by the King
A reconciliation was enforc'd,
Death threaten'd the first occasioner
Of breach, besides the confiscation
Of Lands and Honours, yet at last they met
Againe; againe they drew to sides, renew'd
Their ancient quarrell, in which dismall uprore
Your Father hand to hand fell by Alvarez,
Alvarez fled, and after him the doome
Of exile was set out; He as Report
Was bold to voyce, retir'd himselfe to Rhodes,
His Lands and Honours by the King bestow'd
On you, but then an Infant.
Lew.
Ha, an Infant!
Pe.
His Wife the sister to the Corigidor,
With a young Daughter, and some few that follow'd her
By stealth were shipt for Rhodes, and by a storme
Ship-wrack'd at Sea, but for the banish'd Conde,
'Twas never yet known what became of him,
Here's all I can informe you.
Lew.
A repeale,
Yes, I will sue for't, beg for't, buy it, any thing
That may by possibility of friends,
Or Money, I'le attempt.
Pe.
'Tis a brave charity.
Lew.
Alas poore Lady, I could mourne for her!
Her losse was Usury more then I covet;
But for the Man, I'de sell my patrimony
To finde him out, there is no peace can dwell
About my Fathers Tombe, till I have sacrific'd
Some portion of revenge to his wrong'd ashes.
You will along with me?
Pe.
You neede not question it.
Lew.
I have strange thoughts about me, two such furies
Revell amidst my joyes as well may move
Distraction in a Saint, Vengeance and Love,
I'le follow sir.
Pe.
Pray lead the way: you know it.
Exit.
Enter Sancho, and Soto.
Soto.
How now! from whence come you sir?
San.
From fleaing my selfe sir.
Soto.
From playing with Fencers sir, and they have beat him out
of his Cloaths sir.
Pe.
Cloake, Band, Rapier, all lost at Dice!
San.
Nor Cards neither.
Soto.
This was one of my Masters dog-dayes, and he would not
sweat too much.
San.
It was mine own Goose, and I laid the Jiblets upon an other
Coxcombs trencher, you are my Gardian, best beg me for a fool now.
Soto.
He that begs one begs tother.
Pe.
Does any Gentleman give away his things thus?
San.
Yes, and Gentlewomen give away their things too.
Soto.
To Gulls sometimes, and are Cony-catch'd for their labour.
Pe.
Wilt thou ever play the Coxcombe?
San.
If no other parts be given me, what would you have me do?
Pe.
Thy Father was as brave a Spaniard
As ever spake the haute Castilian Tongue.
San.
Put me in Cloaths, I'le be as brave as he.
Pe.
This is the ninth time thou hast plaid the Asse,
Flinging away thy trappings and thy cloath
To cover others, and goe nak'd thy selfe.
San.
I'le make 'em up ten, because I'le be even with you.
Pe.
Once more your broken walls shall have new hangings.
Soto.
To be well hung, is all our desire.
Pe.
And what course take you next?
San.
What course? why my man Soto and I wil go make some maps.
Pe.
What maps?
Not such Mapps as you wash houses with, but Mapps of
Countries.
San.
I have an Unckle in Sivell, I'le go see him, an Aunt in Siena
in Italy, I goe see her.
Soto.
A Cosen of mine in Rome, I goe to him with a Mortar.
San.
There's a Curtizan in Venice, I'le goe tickle her.
Soto.
Another in England, I'le goe tackle her.
Pe.
So, so, and where's the money to do all this?
San.
If my wookes being cut down cannot fill this Pocket, cut 'em
into Trapsticks.
Soto.
And if his Acres being sould for a Maruedi, a Turffe for
markes in Cages, cannot fill this Pocket, give 'em to Gold-finders.
Pe.
You'l gallop both to the Gallowes, so fare you well.
Exit.
San.
And be hang'd you, new cloaths y'ad best.
Soto.
Foure cloaks, that you may give away three, and keep one.
San.
Wee'l live as merrily as beggers, lets both turne Gipsies.
Soto.
By any means, if they cog wee'l lie, if they tosse wee'l tumble.
San.
Both in a belly, rather then faile.
Soto.
Come then, wee'l be Gipsified.
San.
And tipsified too.
Soto.
And we will shew such tricks, and such rare gambolls.
As shall put down the Elephant and Camels.
Exeunt.
| The Spanish Gipsie | |