 | Loves Cure or, The Martial Maid |  |
Actus tertius
Scæna prima.
Enter Malroda, and Alguazier.Mal.
He must not? nor he shall not, who shall let him?
You? politique Diego, with your face of wisdome;
Don-blirt, the—on your aphorismes,
Your grave, and sage Ale physiognomy:
Do not I know thee for the Alquazier
Whose dunghill all the Parish Scavengers
Could never rid? thou Comedy to men,
Whose serious folly is a but for all
To shoot their wits at; whilst thou hast not wit,
Nor heart, to answer, or be angry.
Alg.
Lady.
Mal.
Peace, peace, you rotten rogue, supported by
A staffe of rottener office: dare you check
Anys accesses, that I wil allow?
Piorato is my friend, and visits me
In lawfull sort to espouse me as his wife;
And who wil crosse, or shall our enter-viewes?
You know me sirha, for no Chambermaid,
That cast her belly, and her wastcote lately;
Thou thinkst thy Constableship is much: not so,
I am ten offices to thee: I, thy house,
Thy house, and Office is maintain'd by me.
Alg.
My house of office is maintain'd ith' garden:
Go too, I know you, and I have contriv'd;
Y'are a delinquent, but I have contriv'd
A poyson, though not in the third degree:
I can say, blacks your eye, though it be grey;
I have connivd at this your friend, and you:
But what is got by this connivency?
I like his feather well: a proper man,
Of good discourse, fine conversation,
Valiant, and a great carrier of the businesse,
Sweet breasted, as the Nightingale, or Thrush:
Yet I must tell you; you forget your selfe,
My Lord Vitellies love, and maintenance
Deserves no other Jack ith'box, but he:
What though he gather'd first the golden fruit,
And blew your pigges-coat up into a blister,
When you did wait at Court upon his mother;
Has he not wel provided for the barne?
Beside, what profit reap I by the other?
If you wil have me serve your pleasure, Lady,
Your pleasure must accommodate my service;
As good be vertuous and poore, as not
Thrive by my knavery: all the world would be
Good, prosper'd goodnesse like to villany.
I am the Kings vice-gerent by my place;
His right Lieutenant in mine owe precinct.
Mal.
Thou art a right rascall in all mens precincts;
Yet now my paire of twins, of foole, and knave,
Looke we are friends; there's Gold for thee, admit
Whom I wil have, and keep it from my Don;
And I will make thee richer then thou art wise:
Thou shalt be my Bawd, and my Officer:
Thy children shall eate still my good night Owle,
And thy old wife sell Andyrons to the Court,
Be countenanced by the Dons, and weare a hood,
Nay keepe my garden-house, Ile call her mother,
Thee father, my good poysonous red-har'd Dill,
And Gold shall daily be thy Sacrifice,
Wrought from a fertill Island of mine owne,
Which I wil offer, like an Indian Queen.
Alg.
And I wil be thy divel, thou my flesh,
With which Ile catch the world.
Mal.
Fill some Tobacco,
And bring it in: if Piorato come
Before my Don, admit him; if my Don
Before my Love, conduct him, my deere devill.
Exit.
Alg.
I wil my dear flesh: first come, first serv'd. Wel said.
O equall Heaven, how wisely thou disposest
Thy severall gifts? one's born a great rich foole,
For the subordinate knave to worke upon:
Anothers poore, with wits addition,
Which wel or ill us'd, builds a living up;
And that too from the Sire oft discends:
Onely faire vertue, by traduction
Never succeeds, and seldome meets successe;
What have I then to do with 't? My free will
Left me by Heaven, makes me or good, or ill:
Now since vice gets more in this vicious world
Then piety, and my stars confluence
Enforce my disposition to affect
Gaine, and the name of rich, let who wil practice
War, and grow that way great: religious,
And that way good: my chiefe felicity
Is wealth the nurse of sensuality:
And he that mainly labours to be rich,
Must scratch great scabs, and claw a Strumpets itch.
Exit.
Scæna secunda.
Enter Piorato, and Bobadilla, with Letters.Pio.
To say sir, I wil wait upon your Lord,
Were not to understand my selfe.
Bob.
To say sir
You wil doe any thing but wait upon him,
Were not to understand my Lord.
Pio.
Ile meet him
Some halfe houre hence, and doubt not but to render
His sonne a man againe: the cure is easie,
I have done divers.
Bob.
Women do ye mean, sir?
Pio.
Cures I do mean sir: be there but one sparke
Of fire remaining in him unextinct,
With my discourse Ile blow it to a flame;
And with my practice, into action:
I have had one so full of childish feare,
And womanish hearted sent to my advice,
He durst not draw a Knife to cut his meat.
Bob.
And how sir, did you help him?
Pio.
Sir, I kept him
Seaven daies in a darke room by Candle-light,
A plenteous Table spread with all good meats,
Before his eyes, a case of keen broad Knives,
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Touch the least modicum, unlesse he cut it:
And thus I brought him first to draw a knife.
Bob.
Good.
Pio.
Then for ten daies did I diet him
Onely with burnt Porke sir, and gammons of Bacon;
A pill of Caveary now and then,
Which breeds choler adust you know.
Bob.
Tis true.
Pio.
And to purge phlegmatick humor, and cold crudities;
In all that time, he dranke me Aqua fortis,
And nothing else but—
Bob.
Aqua vite Signior,
For Aqua fortis poysons.
Pio.
Aqua fortis
I say again: what's one mans poyson Signior,
Is anothers meat or drinke.
Bob.
Your patience sir;
By your good patience, h'ad a huge cold stomacke.
Pio.
I fir'd it: and gave him then three sweats
In the Artillery-yard three drilling daies:
And now he'l shoot a Gun, and draw a Sword,
And fight with any man in Christendome.
Bob.
A receipt for a coward: Ile be bold sir
To write your good prescription.
Pio.
Sir, hereafter
You shall, and underneath it put probatum:
Is your chaine right?
Bob.
Tis both right and just sir;
For though I am a Steward, I did get it
With no mans wrong.
Pio.
You are witty.
Bob.
So, so.
Could you not cure one sir, of being too rash
And over-daring? there now's my disease:
Fool-hardy as they say, for that in sooth
I am.
Pio.
Most easily.
Bob.
How?
Pio.
To make you drunke sir,
With smal Beere once a day; and beat you twice,
Till you be bruis'd all over: if that help not,
Knock out your braines.
Bob.
This is strong Physick Signior,
And never wil agree with my weak body:
I finde the medcine worse then the malady,
And therefore wil remain fool-hardy stil:
You'l come sir?
Pio:
As I am a Gentleman.
Bob.
A man oth'Sword should never break his word.
Pio.
Ile overtake you: I have onely sir
A complementall visitation
To offer to a Mistris lodgd here by.
Bob.
A Gentlewoman?
Pio.
Yes sir.
Bob.
Faire, and comely?
Pio.
Oh sir, the Paragon, the Non-parill
Of Civill, the most wealthy Mine of Spaine,
For beauty, and perfection.
Bob.
Say you so?
Might not a man entreat a curtesie,
To walke along with you Signior, to peruse
This dainty Mine, though not to dig in't Sgnior?
Hauh—I hope you'l not deny me, being a stranger;
Though I am Steward, I am flesh and blood,
And fraile as other men.
Pio.
Sir, blow your nose:
I dare not for the world: no, she is kept
By a great, Don, Vitelli,
Bob.
How?
Pio.
Tis true.
Bob.
See, things wil veere about: this Don Vitelli
Am I to seeke now, to deliver Letters
From my young Mistris Clara; and I tell you,
Under the Rose, because you are a stranger,
And my speciall friend, I doubt there is
A little foolish love betwixt the parties
Unknown unto my Lord.
Pio.
Happy discovery:
My fruit begins to ripen: hark you sir,
I would not wish you now, to give those Letters:
But home, and ope this to Madona Clara,
Which when I come Ile justifie, and relate
More amply, and particularly.
Bob.
I approve
Your counsell, and wil practice it: bazilos manos:
Here's two chewres chewrd; when wisdome is imployd
Tis ever thus: your more acquaintance, Signior:
I say not better, least you think, I thought not
Yours good enough.
Exit.
Enter Alguazier.
Pio.
Your servant excellent Steward.
Would all the Dons in Spain had no more brains,
Here comes the Alguazier: dieu vous guard Mounsier.
Is my cuz stirring yet?
Alg.
Your cuz (good cosen?)
A whore is like a foole, akin to all
The gallants in the Town: Your coz, good Signior,
Is gone abroad sir with her other cosen,
My Lord Vitelli: since when there hath been
Some dozen cosens here to enquire for her.
Pia.
She's greatly alli'd sir.
Alg.
Marry is she sir,
Come of a lusty kindred: the truth is,
I must connive no more: no more admittance
Must I consent to; my good Lord has threatned me,
And you must pardon.
Pio.
Out upon thee man,
Turne honest in thine age? one foot ith' grave?
Thou shalt not wrong thy selfe so, for a million:
Looke, thou three-headed Cerberus (for wit
I mean) here is one sop, and two, and three,
For every chop a bit.
Alg.
I marry sir:
Wel, the poore heart loves you but too wel.
We have been talking on you 'faith this houre:
Where, what I said, goe too: she loves your valour:
Oh and your Musicke most abominably:
She is within sir, and alone: what meane you?
Pio.
That is your Sergeants fide, I take it sir;
Now I endure your Constables much better;
There is lesse danger in't: for one you know
Is a tame harmlesse monster in the light,
The Sergeant salvage both by day, and night.
Alg.
Ile call her to you for that.
Pio.
No, I wil charme her.
Enter Malroda.
Alg.
She's come.
Pio.
My Spirit.
Mal.
Oh my Sweet,
Leape hearts to lips, and in our kisses meet.
Pio.
Turn, turn thy beauteous face away,
Song.
How pale and sickly mak't the day,
In emulation of thy brighter beams!
Oh envious light, fly, fly, be gone,
Come night, and peece two breasts as one;
When what love does, we will repeat in dreams.
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Let but their lids fall, and it will be night.
Alg.
Wel, I wil leave you to your fortitude;
And you to temperance: ah, ye pretty paire,
Twere sin to sunder you. Lovers being alone
Make one of two, and day and night all one.
But fall not out, I charge you, keep the peace;
You know my place else.
Exit.
Mal.
No, you wil not marry:
You are a Courtier, and can sing (my Love)
And want no Mistrisses: but yet I care not,
Ile love you still; and when I am dead for you,
Then you'l believe my truth.
Pio.
You kill me (faire)
It is my lesson that you speake: have I
In any circumstance deserv'd this doubt?
I am not like your false and perjur'd Don
That here maintains you, and has vowd his faith,
And yet attempts in way of marriage
A Lady not far off.
Mal.
How's that?
Pio.
Tis so:
And therefore Mistris, now the time is come
You may demand his promise; and I sweare
To marry you with speed.
Mal.
And with that Gold
Which Don Vitelli gives, you'l walke some voyage
And leave me to my trade; and laugh, and brag,
How you ore-reach'd a whore, and guld a Lord.
Pio.
You anger me extreamly: fare you wel.
What should I say to be believd? expose me
To any hazzard; or like jealous Juno
(Th'incensed step-mother of Hercules)
Designe me labours most impossible,
Ile doe 'em, or die in 'em; so at last
You wil believe me.
Mal.
Come, we are friends: I doe.
I am thine, walk in: my Lord has sent me outsides,
But thou shalt have 'em, the colours are too sad:
Pio.
'Faith Mistris, I want clothes indeed.
Mal.
I have
Some Gold too, for my servant.
Pio.
And I have
A better mettle for my Mistris.
Exeunt.
Scena tertia.
Enter Vitelli and Alguazier, at severall doors.Alg.
Undone—wit now or never help me: my Master
He wil cut my throat, I am a dead Constable;
And he'l not be hangd neither, there's the griefe:
The party sir is here.
Vit.
What?
Alg.
He was here;
I cry your Lordship mercy: but I rattled him;
I told him here was no companions
For such deboshd, and poor-condition'd fellows;
I bid him venture not so desperately
The cropping of his eares, slitting his nose,
Or being gelt.
Uit.
I was wel done.
Alg.
Please your honour,
I told him there were Stewes, and then at last
Swore three or foure great oathes she was remov'd,
Which I did thinke I might in conscience,
Being for your Lordship.
Vit.
What became of him?
Alg.
Faith sir, he went away with a fiealin's eare,
Like a poore cur, clapping his trindle taile
Betwixt his legs.—A chi ba, a chi ba, a chi ba—now luck.
Enter Malroda and Piorato.
Mal.
Tis he, do as I told thee: 'Blesse thee Signior.
Oh, my deare Lord.
Vit.
Malroda, what alone?
Mal.
She never is alone, that is accompanied
With noble thoughts, my Lords and mine are such,
Being onely of your Lordship.
Vit.
Pretty Lasse.
Mal.
Oh my good Lord, my picture's done: but 'faith
It is not like; nay this way sir, the light
Strikes best upon it here.
Pio.
Excellent wench.
Exit.
Alg.
I am glad the danger's over.
Exit.
Vit.
Tis wondrous like,
But that Art cannot counterfeit what Nature
Could make but once.
Mal.
All's cleare; another tune
You must heare from me now: Vitelli, thou'rt
A most perfidious and a perjur'd man,
As ever did usurpe Nobility.
Vit.
What meanst thou Mal.?
Mal.
Leave your betraying smiles,
And change the tunes of your inticing tongues
To penitentiall prayers; for I am great
In labour even with anger, big with child
Of womans rage, bigger then when my wombe
Was pregnant by thee: goe seducer, fly
Out of the world, let me the last wretch be
Dishonoured by thee: touch me not, I loath
My very heart, because thou layst there long;
A woman's wel helpt up, that's confident
In ere a glittering outside on you all:
Would I had honestly been matchd to some
Poore Countrey-swaine, ere known the vanity
Of Court: peace then had been my portion,
Nor had been cozend by an houres pompe
To be a whore unto my dying day.
Vit.
Oh the uncomfortable waies such women have,
Their different speech and meaning, no assurance
In what they say or do: Dissemblers
Even in their prayers, as if the weeping Greeke
That flatter'd Troy afire had been their Adam;
Lyers, as if their mother had been made
Onely of all the falshood of the man,
Dispos'd into that rib: Do I know this,
And more: nay, all that can concern this Sex,
With the true end of my creation?
Can I with rationall discourse sometimes
Advance my spirit into Heaven, before
'T has shook hands with my body, and yet blindly
Suffer my filthy flesh to master it,
With sight of such faire fraile beguiling objects?
When I am absent, easily I resolve
Nere more to entertaine those strong desires
That triumph ore me, even to actuall sin;
Yet when I meet again those sorserers eyes,
Their beames my hardest resolutions thaw,
As if that cakes of Ice and July met,
And her sighes powerfull as the violent North,
Like a light feather twirle me round about
And leave me in mine own low state again.
What aylst thou? prethee weep not: Oh, those tears
If they were true, and righly spent, would raise
A flowry spring ith' midst of January:
Celestiall Ministers with Christall cups
Would stoop to save 'em for immortall drink:
136
Mal.
Do ye ask?
You are marrying: having made me unfit
For any man, you leave me fit for all:
Porters must be my burthens now, to live
And fitting me your selfe for Carts, and Beadles
You leave me to 'em: And who of all the world
But the virago, your great Arch-foes daughter?
But on: I care not, this poore rush: 'twill breed
An excellent comedy: ha, ha: 't'makes me laugh:
I cannot choose: the best is, some report
It is a match for feare, not love o' your side.
Vit.
Why how the devill knows she, that I saw
This Lady? are all whores peec'd with some witch?
I will be merry, 'faith 'tis true, sweet heart,
I am to marry?
Mal.
Are you? you base Lord.
By—i'le Pistoll thee.
Uit.
A roaring whore?
Take heed, there's a correction house hard by:
You ha' learn'd this o' your swordman, that I warn'd you of,
Your fencers, and your drunkards: but whereas
You upbraid me with oathes, why I must tell you
I ne're promis'd you marriage, nor have vow'd,
But said I lov'd you, long as you remain'd
The woman I expected, or you swore,
And how you have fail'd of that (sweet heart) you know.
You faine would shew your power, but fare you well,
Ile keepe no more faith with an infidell.
Mal.
Nor I my bosome for a Turk: do'ye heare?
Goe, and the devill take me, if ever
I see you more: I was too true.
Vit.
Come, pish:
That devill take the falsest of us two.
Mal.
Amen.
Vit.
You are an ill Clerk; and curse your selfe:
Madnesse transports you: I confesse, I drew you
Unto my will: but you must know that must not
Make me doat on the habit of my sin.
I will, to settle you to your content,
Be master of my word: and yet he li'd
That told you I was marrying, but in thought:
But will you slave me to your tyranny
So cruelly I shall not dare to looke
Or speake to other women? make me not
Your smocks Monopolie: come, let's be friends:
Looke, her's a Jewell for thee: I will come
At night, and—
Mal.
What 'yfaith: you shall not sir.
Uit.
'Faith, and troth, and verily, but I will
Ma.
Halfe drunck, to make a noise, and raile?
Uit.
No, no,
Sober, and dicted for the nonce: I am thine,
I have won the day.
Mal.
The night (though) shall be mine.
Exeunt.
Scæna quarta.
Enter Clara and Bobadilla with Letters.Cla.
What said he sirha?
Bob.
Little, or nothing: faith I saw him not,
Nor will not: he doth love a strumpet, Mistresse,
Nay, keeps her spitefully, under the Constables nose,
It shall be justifi'd by the Gentleman
Your brothers Master, that is now within
As practicing: there are your Letters: come
You shall not cast your selfe away, while I live,
Nor will I venture my right worshipfull place
Enter Eugenia & Sayavedra.
In such a businesse—here's your Mother: downe:
And he that loves you: another' gates fellow, I wish
If you had any grace.
Cla.
Well rogue.
Bob.
Ile in, to see Don Lucio mannage: he'll make
A pretty peece of flesh; I promise you,
He do's already handle his weapon finely.
Exit.
Eug.
She knows your love sir, and the full allowance
Her Father and my selfe approve it with,
And I must tell you, I much hope it hath
Wrought some impression, by her alteration;
She sighes, and saies forsooth, and cries heigh ho,
She'll take ill words oth' Steward, and the Servants,
Yet answer affably, and modestly:
Things sir, not usuall with her: there she is,
Change some few words.
Say.
Maddam, I am bound to 'ye;
How now, faire Mistresse, working?
Cla.
Yes forsooth,
Learning to live another day.
Say.
That needs not.
Cla.
No forsooth: by my truly but it do's,
We know not what we may come too.
Eug.
'Tis strange.
Say.
Come, I ha beg'd leave for you to play.
Cla.
Forsooth
'Tis ill for a faire Lady to be idle.
Say.
She had better be well-busied, I know that.
Turtle: me thinkes you mourne, shall I fit by you?
Cla.
If you be weary sir, you had best be gone
(I work not a true stitch) now you'r my mate.
Say.
If I be so, I must doe more then fide you.
Cla.
Ev'n what you will, but tread me.
Say.
Shall we bill?
Cla.
Oh no, forsooth.
Say.
Being so faire, my Clara,
Why do'ye delight in black-worke?
Cla.
Oh white sir,
The fairest: Ladies like the blackest men:
I ever lov'd the colour: all black things
Are least subject to change.
Say.
Why, I doe love
A black thing too: and the most beauteous faces
Have oftnest of them: as the blackest eyes,
Jet-arched browes, such haire: i'le kisse your hand.
Cla.
'T will hinder me work my sir: and my Mother
Will chide me, if I doe not doe my taske.
Say.
Your Mother, nor your Father shall chide: you
Might have a prettier taske, would you be rul'd,
And looke with open eyes.
Cla.
I stare upon you:
And broadly see you: a wondrous proper man,
Yet 'twere a greater taske for me to love you
Then I shall ever work sir, in seven yeer,
—o' this stitching, I had rather feele
Two, then sow one:—this rogue h'as giv'n me a stitch
Cleane crosse my heart: good faith sir: I shall prick you.
Say.
In goodder faith, I would prick you againe.
Cla.
Now you grow troublesome: pish; the man is, foolish
Say.
Pray weare these trifles.
Cla.
Neither you, nor trifles,
You are a trifle, weare your selfe, sir, out,
And here no more trifle the time away.
Say.
Come; you're deceived in me, I will not wake,
Nor fast, nor dye for you.
Cla.
Goose be not you deceiv'd,
I can not like, nor love, nor live with you,
137
Eug.
Her old fit.
Say.
Sure, this is not the way: nay, I will breake
Your melancholie.
Cla.
I shall breake your pate then,
Away, you sanguine scabbard.
Eug.
Out upon thee
Enter Alvarez, Piorato, Lucio: & Bobadilla.
Thou'lt breake my heart, I am sure.
Say.
She's not yet tame.
Alv.
On sir; put home: or I shall goad you here
With this old Fox of mine, that will bite better:
Oh, the brave age is gone; in my young daies
A Chevalier would stock a needles point
Three times together: strait ith' hams?
Or shall I gi'v'ye new Garters?
Bob.
Faith old Master.
There's little hope: the linnen sure was danck
He was begot in, he's so faint, and cold:
2 Torches ready.
Ev'n send him to Toledo, there to study,
For he will never fadge with these Toledos;
Beare ye up your point there; pick his teeth: Oh'base.
Pio.
Fie: you are the most untoward Scholler: beare
Your body gracefully: what a posture's there?
You lie too open breasted.
Luc.
Oh!
Pio.
You'ld never
Make a good States-man:
Luc.
Pray no more.
I hope to breath in peace, and therefore need not
The practise of these dangerous qualities,
I doe not meane to live by't; for I trust
You'l leave me better able.
Alv.
Not a Button:
Eugenia, Let's goe get us a new heire.
Eug.
I by my troth: your daughter's as untoward.
Alv.
I will breake thee bone by bone, and bake thee,
Ere i'le ha' such a woodden Sonne, to inherit:
Take him a good knock; see how that will work.
Pio.
Now, for your life Signior:
Luc.
Oh: alas, I am kill'd
My eye is out: looke Father: Zancho:—
Ile play the foole no more thus, that I will not.
Cla.
'Heart: nere a rogue in Spaine shall wrong my brother
Whil'st I can hold a sword.
Pio.
Hold, Maddam, Maddam.
Alv.
Clara.
Eug.
Daughter.
Bob.
Mistresse:
Pio.
Bradamante.
Hold, hold I pray.
Alv.
The devil's in her, o'the other side: sure,
There's Gold for you: they have chang'd what ye calt's:
Will no cure help? well, I have one experiment,
And if that faile, Ile hang him, then here's an end on't.
Come you along with me: and you sir:
Exit Alv. Eug. Luc. Bob.
Bob.
Now are you going to drowning.
Say.
Ile ev'n along with ye: she's too great a Lady
For me, and would prove more then my match.
Exit.
Cla.
You'r he spoke of Vitelli to the Steward?
Pio.
Yes: and I thank you, you have beat me for't.
Cla.
But are you sure you doe not wrong him?
Pio.
Sure?
So sure, that if you please venture your selfe
Ile show you him, and his Cockatrice together,
And you shall heare 'em talke.
Cla.
Will you? by—sir
You shall endeere me ever: and I ask
You mercy.
Pio.
You were somewhat boystrous.
Cla.
There's Gold to make you amends: and for this paines,
Ile gratifie you further: i'le but masque me
And walke along with ye: faith let's make a night on't.
Exit.
Scæna quinta.
Enter Alguazier, Pachieco, Mendoza. Metaldi, Lazarillo.Alg.
Come on my brave water-Spaniels: you that
hunt Ducks in the night: and hide more knavery under
your gownes then your betters: observe my precepts,
and edifie by my doctrine: at yond corner will I set you;
if drunkards molest the street, & fall to brabling, knock
you down the malefactors, and take you up their cloaks
and hats, and bring them to me: they are lawfull prisoners,
and must be ransom'd ere they receive liberty:
what else you are to execute upon occasion, you sufficiently
know: and therefore I abbreviat my Lecture.
Met.
We are wise enough, and warme enough.
Men.
Vice this night shall be apprehended.
Pach.
The terror of rug-gownes shall be known: and our bils
Discharge us of after recknings.
Laz.
I will doe any thing, so I may eat.
Pach.
Lazarillo, We will spend no more; now we are
growne worse, we will live better: let us follow our
calling faithfully.
Alg.
Away, then the Common-wealth is our Mistresse: and who
Would serve a common Mistresse, but to gaine by her?
Exeunt.
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