 | The Spanish Curat |  |
Actus Tertius
Scæna Prima.
Enter Henrique and Bartolus.Hen.
You know my cause sufficiently?
Bar.
I doe (Sir.)
Hen.
And though it will impaire my honesty,
And strike deep at my Credit, yet (my Bartolus)
There being no other evasion left to free me
From the vexation of my spightfull Brother,
That most insultingly raignes over me,
I must and will goe forward.
Bar.
Doe (my Lord)
And looke not after credit, we shall cure that,
Your bended honestie, we shall set right (Sir)
We Surgeons of the Law, doe desperate cures (Sir)
And you shall see how heartily I'll handle it:
Marke how I'll knock it home: be of good cheare (Sir)
You give good Fees, and those beget good Causes,
The prerogative of your crownes will carry the matter,
(Carry it sheere) The Assistant sits to morrow,
And he's your friend, your monied men love naturally,
And as your loves are cleare, so are your Causes.
Hen.
He shall not want for that.
Bar.
No, no, he must not,
Line your Cause warmly (Sir) the times are Aguish,
That holds a Plea in heart; hang the penurious,
Their Causes (like their purses) have poore Issues.
Hen.
That way, I was ever bountifull.
Bar.
'Tis true (Sir)
That makes ye fear'd forces the Snakes to kneele to ye,
Live full of money, and supply the Lawyer,
And take your choice of what mans lands you please (Sir)
What pleasures, or what profits; what revenges,
They are all your owne: I must have witnesses
Enough, and ready.
Hen.
You shall not want (my Bartolus.)
Bar.
Substantiall fearless soules, that wil swear suddenly,
That will sweare any thing.
Hen.
They shall sweare truth too.
Bar.
That's no great matter: for varietie
They may sweare truth, els 'tis not much look'd after:
I will serve Processe, presently, and strongly
Upon your Brother, and Octavio,
Jacintha and the Boy; provide your proofes (Sir)
And set 'em fairely off, be sure of Witnesses,
Though they cost money, want no store of witnesses,
I have seen a handsome Cause, so fowly lost (Sir,)
So beastly cast away for want of Witnesses.
Hen.
There shall want nothing.
Bar.
Then be gone, be provident.
Send to the Judge, a secret way: you have me,
And let him understand the heart.
Hen.
I shall (Sir.)
Bar.
And feele the pulses strongly beat, I'll study,
And at my houre, but mark me, goe, be happy,
Goe and beleeve i'th' Law.
Hen.
I hope 'twill helpe me.
Exeunt.
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Lopez, Diego and foure Parishioners and Singers.Lop.
Nea'r talke to me, I will not stay amongst ye,
Debaush'd and ignorant lazie knaves I found ye,
And fooles I leave ye, I have taught these twenty yeares,
Preacht spoon-meat to ye, that a child might swallow,
Yet ye are Block-heads still: what should I say to ye?
Ye have neither faith, nor money left to save ye,
Am I a fit companion for such Beggers?
1.
If the Shepheard will suffer the sheep to be scab'd (sir)
Lop.
No, no, ye are rotten.
Di.
Would they were, for my sake.
Lop.
I have nointed ye, and far'd ye with my doctrine,
And yet the murren sticks to ye, yet ye are mangy,
I will avoid ye.
Two chaires set out.
2.
Pray ye (Sir) be not angry,
In the pride of your new Cassock, doe not part with us,
We doe acknowledge ye a carefull Curat,
And one that seldome troubles us with Sermons,
A short slice of a Reading serves us (Sir)
We doe acknowledge ye a quiet Teacher.
Before You'll vex your Audience, you'll sleep with 'em,
And that's a loving thing.
3.
We grant ye (Sir)
The onely benefactor to our Rowling,
To all our merry Sports, the first provoker,
And at our Feasts we know there is no reason,
But you that edifie us most, should eat most.
Lop.
I will not stay for all this, ye shall know me
A man borne to a more beseeming fortune
Then ringing all-in, to a rout of Dunces.
4.
We will increase your Tithes, you shall have Egs too,
Though they may prove most dangerous to our Issues.
1.
I am a Smith; yet thus far out of my love
You shall have the tenth horse I prick, to pray for,
I am sure I prick five hundred in a yeare (Sir.
2.
I am a Cooke, a man of a dride conscience,
Yet thus far I relent: you shall have tith porrage.
3.
Your stipend shal be rais'd too (good neighbour Diego.)
Di.
Would ye have me speak for ye? I am more angry
Ten times more vex'd not to be pacified:
No there be other places for poore Sextons
Places of profit (Friends) fine stirring places,
And people that know how to use our Offices,
Know what they were made for: I speak for such Capons?
Ye shall find the Key o'th' Church,
Under the doore (Neighbours,)
35
Lop.
My Surplesse, with one sleeve, you shall find there,
For to that dearth of Linnen, you have driven me;
And the old Cutworke Cope, that hangs by gymitrie:
'Pray ye turne em carefully, they are very tender:
The remnant of the Books, lie where they did (Neighbours)
Half puft away with the Church-wardens pipings.
Such smoaky zeales they have against hard places,
The poore-mans Box is there too: if ye find any thing
Beside the posie, and that halfe rub'd out too,
For feare it should awake too much charitie
Give it to pious uses, that is, spend it:
Die.
The Bell-ropes, they are strong enough to hang ye,
So we bequeath ye to your destiny.
1.
Pray ye be not so hastie.
Di.
I'll speake a proud word to ye,
Would ye have us stay?
2.
We doe most hearilty pray ye.
3.
I'll draw as mighty drinke (Sir.)
Lop.
A strong motive,
The stronger still the more ye come unto me.
3.
And I'll send for my Daughter:
Lop.
This may stir too:
The Maiden is of age, and must be edified.
4.
You shall have any thing: loose our learned Vicar?
And our most constant friend; honest deare Diego?
Di.
Yet all this will not do: I'll tell ye (Neighbours)
And tell ye true: if ye will have us stay,
If you will have the comforts of our companies,
You shall be bound to doe us right in these points,
You shall be bound, and this the obligation,
Dy when 'tis fit, that we may have fit duties,
And doe not seeke to draw—out our undoings,
Marry tryde women, that are free, and fruitfull,
Get children in abundance, for your Christnings,
Or suffer to be got, 'tis equall justice,
Lop.
Let Weddings, Christnings, Churchings, Funerals,
And merry Gossippings goe round, go round still,
Round as a Pig, that we may find the profit.
Die.
And let your old men fall sick handsomely:
And dy immediatly, their Sonnes may shoot up:
Let women dy oth' sullens too, 'tis naturall,
But be sure their Daughters be of age first,
That they may stock us still: your queazie young wives
That perish undeliver'd, I am vext with,
And vext abundantly, it much concernes me,
There's a childes buriall lost, looke that be mended.
Lo.
Let 'em be brought to bed, then dy when they please,
These things considered (Country-men) and sworne to
2.
All these, and all our sports againe, and gambolls.
3.
We must dy, and we must live, and we'll be merry,
Every man shall be rich by one another.
2.
We are here to morrow, and gone to day: for my part
If getting children can be-friend my Neighbours,
I'll labour hard but I will fill your Font (Sir.)
1.
I have a Mother now; and an old Father,
They are as sure your own, within these two moneths—
4.
My Sister must be prayd for too, she is desperate,
Desperate in love.
Die.
Keepe, desperate men farre from her.
Then 'twill goe hard: doe you see how melancholy?
Doe you marke the man? do you professe ye love him?
And would doe any thing to stay his fury?
And are ye unprovided to refresh him,
To make him know your loves? fie Neighbours,
2.
We'll doe any thing,
We have brought Musick to appease his spirit,
And the best Song we'll give him.
Die.
Pray ye sit down (Sir)
They know their duties now, and they stand ready
To tender their best mirth.
Lop.
'Tis well, proceed Neighbours,
I am glad I have brought ye to understand good manners,
Ye had Puritan hearts a-while, spurn'd at all pastimes,
But I see some hope now.
Die.
We are set proceed Neighbours:
Enter Arsenio and Millanes.
Ars.
What ayles this Priest? how highly the thing takes it?
Mi.
Lord how it looks? has he not bought some Prebend?
Leandro's money, makes the Rascall merry,
Merry at heart; he spies us.
Lo.
Be gon Neighbours,
The Bar & Book ready on a Table.
Here are some Gentlemen: be gone good Neighbours,
Be gon, and labour to redeeme my favour,
No more words but be gon: these two are Gentlemen,
No company for crusty-handed fellowes.
Dieg.
We will stay for a yeare or two, and trie ye:
Lop.
Fill all your hearts with joy, we will stay with ye,
Be gone no more; I take your pastimes graciously:
Would ye with me (my friends?)
Ars.
We would looke upon ye,
For me-thinks ye looke lovely.
Lop.
Ye have no Letters?
Nor any kind Remembrances?
Mil.
Remembrances?
Lop.
From Nova Hispania, or some part remote (Sir)
You looke like travell'd men: may be some old friends
That happily I have forgot; some Signeours
In China or Cataya; some Companions—
Dieg.
In the Mogulls Court, or else-where.
Ars.
They are mad sure.
Lop.
Ye came not from Peru? doe they look (Diego)
As if they had some mistery about 'em?
Another Don Alonzo now?
Di.
I marry.
And so much money, Sir, from one you know not,
Let it be who it will.
Lop.
They have gracious favours.
Would ye be private?
Mil.
There's no need on't (Sir)
We come to bring ye a Remembrance from a Merchant.
Lop.
'Tis very well, 'tis like I know him.
Ars.
No sir,
I doe not thinke ye doe.
Lop.
A new mistake (Diego)
Let's carry it decently.
Ars.
We come to tell ye,
You have received great summes from a young Factor
They call Leandro, that has rob'd his Master,
Rob'd him, and run away.
Dieg.
Let's keep close (Master)
This newes comes from a cold Country.
Lop.
By my faith it freezes,
Mil.
Is not this true? doe you shrink now (good man Curate)
Doe I not touch ye?
Lop.
We have a hundred Duckets
Yet left, we doe beseech ye sir—
Mil.
You'll hang both.
Lop.
One may suffice.
Di.
I will not hang alone (Master)
I had the least part, you shall hang the highest.
Plague o' this Tiveria, and the Letter,
36
From Nova Hispania we shall hang at home now.
Ars.
I see ye are penitent, and I have compassion:
Ye are secure both; doe but what we charge ye,
Ye shall have more gold too, and he shall give it,
Yet ne're indanger ye.
Lop.
Command us (Master)
Command us presently, and see how nimbly—
Die.
And if we doe not handsomely endeavour—
Ars.
Goe home and till ye heare more keep private,
Till we appeare againe, no words, (Vicar)
There's something added.
Mil.
For you too.
Lop.
We are ready.
Mil.
Goe, and expect us hourely, if ye falter,
Though ye had twenty lives—
Die.
We are fit to loose 'em.
Lop.
'Tis most expedient that we should hang both.
Die.
If we be hang'd we cannot blame our fortune.
Mil.
Farewell, and be your owne friends.
Lop.
We expect ye.—
Exeunt.
Scæna Tertia.
Enter Octavio, Jacintha, Ascanio.Oct.
We cited to the Court!
A Bar. Table-booke, 2 chairs, & paper standish set out.
Ja.
It is my wonder,
Oct.
But not our fear, (Iacintha) wealthy men
That have Estates to loose, whose conscious thoughts
Are full of inward guilt, may shake with horrour,
To have their Actions sifted, or appeare
Before the Judge. But we that know our selves
As innocent, as poore, that have no Fleece
On which the Talons of the griping Law
Can take sure hold, may smile with scorne on all
That can be urg'd against us.
Ia.
I am confident
There is no man so covetous, that desires
To ravish our wants from us, and lesse hope
There can be so much Justice left on earth,
(Though sude and call'd upon) to ease us of
The burthen of our wrongs.
Oct.
What thinkes Ascanio?
Should we be call'd in question or accus'd
Unjustly, what would you doe to redeeme us,
From tirannous oppression?
Asc.
I could pray
To him that ever has an open eare
To heare the innocent, and right their wrongs:
Nay, by my troth, I thinke I could out plead
An Advocate, and sweat as much as he
Do's for a double Fee, ere you should suffer
In an honest cause.
Enter Iamie and Bartolus.
Oct.
Happy simplicitie!
Ia.
My dearest, and my best one: Don Iamie,
Oct.
And the Advocate, that caus'd us to be summond.
Asc.
My Lord is mov'd, I see it in his lookes,
And that man, in the Gowne, in my opinion
Lookes like a proaguing knave.
Iac.
Peace, give them leave.
Iam.
Serve me with Processe?
Bar.
My Lord, you are not lawlesse.
Iam.
Nor thou honest;
One, that not long since was the buckram Scribe,
That would run on mens errands for an Asper,
And from such basenesse, having rais'd a Stock
To bribe the covetous Judge, call'd to the Bar,
So poore in practise too, that you would plead
A needy Clyents Cause, for a starv'd hen,
Or halfe a little loyn of Veale, though fly-blowne,
And these, the greatest Fees you could arrive at
For just proceedings; but since you turn'd Rascall—
Bar.
Goodwords, my Lord.
Iam.
And grew my Brothers Bawd
In all his vitrous courses, soothing him
In his dishonest practises, you are growne
The rich, and eminent knave, in the divels name,
What am I cited for?
Bar.
You shall know anon,
And then too late repent this bitter language,
Or I'll misse of my ends.
Iam.
Wer't not in Court,
I would beat that fat of thine, rais'd by the food
Snatch'd from poore Clyents mouthes, into a jelly:
I would (my man of Law) but I am patient,
And would obey the Judge.
Bar.
'Tis your best course:
Would every enemy I have would beat me,
I would wish no better Action.
Oct.
'Save your Lordship.
Asc.
My humble service.
Iam.
My good Boy, how dost thou?
Why art thou call'd into the Court?
Enter Assistant, Henrique, Officer, and Witnesses.
Asc.
I know not,
But 'tis my Lord the Assistants pleasure
I should attend here.
Iam.
He will soone resolve us.
Offi.
Make way there for the Judge.
Jam.
How? my kind Brother?
Nay then 'tis ranck: there is some villany towards.
Assist.
'Tis Sessions purchas'd at your suit, Don Henrique,
Hath brought us hither, to heare and determine
Of what you can prefer.
Henrique.
I doe beseech
The honourable Court, I may be heard
In my Advocate.
Assist.
'Tis granted.
Bar.
humh, humh.
Jam.
That preface
If left out in a Lawyer, spoyles the Cause,
Though ne're so good, and honest.
Bar.
If I stood here,
To plead in the defence of an ill man,
(Most equall Judge) or to accuse the innocent
(To both which, I professe my selfe a stranger)
It would be requisite I should deck my Language
With Tropes and Figures, and all flourishes
That grace a Rethorician, 'tis confess'd
Adulterate Mettals, need the Gold-smiths Art,
To set 'em off; what, in it selfe is perfect
Contemnes a borrowed glosse: This Lord (my Client)
Whose honest cause, when 'tis related truly,
Will challenge Justice, finding in his conscience
A tender scruple of a fault long since
By him committed, thinkes it not sufficient
To be absolv'd of't, by his Confessor,
If that in open Court, he publish not
What was so long conceal'd.
37
To what tends this?
Bar.
In his young yeares (it is no miracle
That youth, and heat of Blood, should mix together.)
He look'd upon this woman, on whose face
The ruines yet remaine, of excellent forme,
He look'd on her, and lov'd her.
Iac:
You good Angels,
What an impudence is this?
Bar.
And us'd all meanes
Of Service, Courtship, Presents, that might win her
To be at his devotion: but in vaine
Her maiden Fort, impregnable held out
Untill he promis'd Marriage; and before
These Witnesses a solemne Contract pass'd
To take her as his wife.
Assist.
Give them their oath.
Iam.
They are incompetent Witnesses, his own Creatures,
And will sweare any thing for halfe a royall.
Off.
Silence.
Assist.
Proceed.
Bar.
Upon this strong assurance
He did enjoy his wishes to the full,
Which satisfied and then with eyes of Judgement
(Had winck'd with lust before) considering duly
The inequality of the Match, he being
Nobly descended, and allyed, but she
Without a name, or Family, secretly
He purchas'd a Divorce, to disanull
His former Contract, marrying openly
The Lady Violante.
Iac.
As you sit here
The Deputy of the great King, who is
The Substitute of that impartiall Judge
With whom, or Wealth, or titles prevaile nothing,
Grant to a much wrong'd Widow, or a Wife
Your patience, with liberty to speake
In her owne Cause, and let me face to face
To this bad man, deliver what he is:
And if my wrongs, with his ingratitude ballanc'd,
Move not compassion, let me die unpittied;
His teares, his oathes, his perjuries, I passe o're
To thinke of them, is a disease; but death
Should I repeat them. I dare not deny,
(For Innocence cannot justifie what's false)
But all the Advocate hath alleadged concerning
His falshood and my shame in my consent,
To be most true: But now I turne to thee.
To thee Don Henrique, and if impious Acts
Have left thee blood enough to make a blush,
I'll paint it on thy cheekes. Was not the wrong
Sufficient to defeat me of mine honuor,
To leave me full of sorrow, as of want,
The witnesse of thy lust, left in my womb,
To testifie thy falshood, and my shame?
But now so many yeares I had conceal'd
Thy most inhumane wickednesse, and won
This Gentleman, to hide it from the world
To Father what was thine (for yet by heaven,
Though in the City, he pas'd for my husband,
He never knew me as his wife)
Assist.
'Tis strange:
Give him an Oath.
Oct.
I gladly sweare, and truly.
Iac.
After all this (I say) when I had borne
These wrongs, with Saint-like patience, saw another
Freely enjoy, what was (in Justice) mine,
Yet still so tender of thy rest, and quiet,
I never would divulge it, to disturb
Thy peace at home, yet thou most barbarous,
To be so carelesse of me, and my Fame,
(For all respect of thine in the first step
To thy base lust, was lost) in open Court
Chess-boord and men set ready.
To publish my disgrace? and on record,
To write me up an easie-yeilding wanton?
I thinke can find no president: In my extreames,
One comfort yet is left, that though the Law
Divorce me from thy bed, and made free way
To the unjust embraces of an other,
It cannot yet deny that this thy Son
(Looke up Ascanio since it is come out)
Is thy legitimate heire.
Iam.
Confederacie:
A trick (my Lord) to cheat me; e're you give
Your Sentence grant me hearing.
Assist.
New Chymera's?
Iam.
I am (my Lord) since he is without Issue,
Or hope of any his undoubted Heire,
And this forg'd by the Advocate, to defeat me
Of what the Lawes of Spaine, confer upon me,
A meere Imposture, and conspiracie
Against my future fortunes,
Assist.
You are too bold.
Speak to the Cause Don Henrique.
Hen.
I confesse,
(Though the acknowledgement must wound mine honour,
That all the Court hath heard touching this Cause,
Or with me, or against me) is most true:
The later part my Brother urg'd, excepted:
For what I now doe, is not out of Spleene
(As he pretends) but from remorse of conscience)
And to repaire the wrong that I have done
To this poore woman: And I beseech your Lordship
To thinke I have not so far lost my reason,
To bring into my Familie, to succeed me,
The stranger—Issue of anothers Bed,
By proofe, this is my Son, I challenge him,
Accept him, and acknowledge him, and desire
By a definitive Sentence of the Court,
He may be so recorded, and full powre
To me, to take him home.
Iac.
A second rape
To the poore remnant of Content, that's left me,
If this be granted? and all my former wrongs
Were but beginnings to my miseries,
But this the height of all: rather then part
With my Ascanio, I'll deny my oath,
Professe my selfe a Strumpet, and endure
What punishment soe're the Court decrees
Against a wretch that hath forsworne her selfe,
Or plai'd the impudent whore.
Assist.
This tastes of passion,
And that must not divert the course of Justice;
Don Henrique, take your Son, with this Condition
You give him maintenance, as becomes his birth,
And 'twill stand with your honour to doe something
For this wronged woman: I will compell nothing,
But leave it to your will. Break up the Court:
It is in vaine to move me; my doom's pass'd,
And cannot be revok'd.—
Exit.
Hen.
There's your reward.
Bar.
More Causes: and such Fees. Now to my Wife.
I have too long bin absent: Health to your Lordship,
38
You all look strangely, and I feare beleeve
This unexpected fortune makes me proud,
Indeed it do's not: I shall ever pay you
The duty of a son, and honour you
Next to my Father: good my Lord, for yet
I dare not call you, uncle, be not sad,
I never shall forget those noble favours
You did me being a stranger, and if ever
I live to be the master of a fortune,
You shall command it.
Jam.
Since it was determi'nd
I should be cozen'd, I am, glad the profit
Shall fall on thee, I am too tough to melt,
But something I will do.
Hen.
'Pray you take leaue
Of your steward (gentle Brother) the good husband
That takes up all for you.
Jam.
Very well, mock on,
It is your turn: I may have mine—
Exit.
Oct.
But do not
Forget us deare Ascanio
Asc.
Do not feare it.
I Every day will see you: every houre
Remember you in my prayers.
Jam.
My grief's too great
To be expressed in words—
Exit.
Hen.
Take that and leave us,
Leave us without reply, nay come back sirrah
And study to forget such things as these
As are not worth the knowledge.
Asc.
O good Sir.
These are bad principles—
Hen.
Such as you must learn
Now you are mine for wealth and poverty
Can hold no friendship: and what is my will
You must observe and do, though good or ill.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Enter Bartolus.Bar.
Where is my wife? 'fore heaven, I have done wonders
Done mighty things to day, my Amaranta,
My heart rejoyces at my wealthy Gleanings,
A rich litigious Lord I love to follow,
A Lord that builds his happinesse on brawlings,
O 'tis a blessed thing to have rich Clyents,
Why, wife I say, how fares my studious Pupill?
Hard at it still? ye are too violent
All things must have their rests they will not last els
Come out and breathe.
Leandro within
Lean.
I do beseech you pardon me
I am deeply in a sweet point Sir,
Bar.
I'le instruct ye:
Enter Amaranta.
I say take breath, seek health first, then your study,
O my sweet soul I have brought thee golden birds home,
Birds in abundance: I have done strange wonders:
There's more a hatching too.
Am.
Have ye done good husband?
Then 'tis a good day spent
Bar.
Good enough chicken,
I have spred the nets o'th' law, to catch rich booties,
And they come flttering in: how do's my Pupil?
My modest thing, hast thou yet spoken to him?
Am.
As I past by this chamber I might see him,
But he is so bookish.
Bar.
And so bashfull too,
I faith he is, before he will speak, he will starve there
Am.
I pitie him a little.
Bar.
So do I too.
Am.
And if he please to take the aire o'th' gardens
Or walk i'th' inward roomes, so he molest not—
Bar.
He shall not trouble thee, he dare not speak to thee
Enter Moore with Chesse-board
Bring out the Chesse-board—come let's have a game wife,
I'le try your masterie, you say you are cunning
Am.
As learned as ye are (Sir) I shall beat ye
Enter Leandro.
Ba.
Here he steales out, put him not out of countenance
'Prethee look another way, he will be gone else
Walk and refresh your self, I'l be with you presently,
Lean.
I'le take the aire a little.
Bar.
'Twill be healthfull.
Am.
Will ye be there? then here? Ile spare ye that man,
Lean.
'Would I were so neare too, and a mate fitting.
A.
What think ye (,Sir) to this? have at your Knight now
Bar.
'Twas subtilly playd: your Queen lies at my service
Pre thee look off, he is ready to pop in again,
Look off I say, do'st thou not see how he blushes?
Am.
I do, not blast him:
Lean.
But ye do, and burn too.
What killing looks she steals?
Bar.
I have you now close,
Now for a Mate.
Lean.
You are a blessed man that may so have her.
Oh that I might play with her—
knock within
Bar.
Who's there? I come, you cannot scape me now wife
I come, I come,
knock
Lean.
Most blessed hand that calls him.
Bar.
Play quickly wife.
Am.
'Pray ye give leave to think, Sir,
Enter Moore.
Moore.
An honest neighbour that dwells hard by (Sir)
Would fain speak with your worship about businesse.
Lean.
The devil blow him off.
Bar.
Play.
Am.
I will study:
For if you beat me thus, you will still laugh at me—
knock
Bar.
He knocks again; I cannot stay. Leandro
'Pray thee come near.
Lean.
I am well (Sir) here,
Bar.
Come hither:
Be not afraid but come.
Am.
Here's none will bite (Sir)
Lean.
God forbid Lady.
Am.
'Pray come nearer.
Lean.
Yes forsooth.
Bar.
'Pre thee observe these men: just as they stand here
And see this Lady, do not alter 'em,
And be not partiall, Pupill.
Lean.
No indeed Sir.
Bar.
Let her not move a pawn, I'le come back presently
Nay you shall know I am a Conquerour.
Have an eye Pupill—
Exit.
Am.
Can ye play at Chesse Sir?
Lean.
A little Lady.
Am.
But you cannot tell me
How to avoid this Mate & win the Game too
Ha's noble eyes: ye dare not friend me so farre.
Lean.
I dare do any thing that's in mans power, Lady,
39
Am.
This is no Lawyers language: I pray ye tell me,
Whether may I remove, Ye see I am set round?
To avoid my husband.
Lean.
I shall tell ye happily.
But happily you will not be instructed.
Am.
Yes, and I thank ye too, shall I move this man?
Lean.
Those are unseemly: move one can serve ye
Can honour ye, can love ye.
Am.
'Pray ye tell quickly
He will return and then
Lean.
I'le tell ye instantly
Move me, and I wil move any way to serve ye
Move your heart this way (Lady)
Am.
How?
Lean.
'Pray ye heare me.
Behold the sport of Love, when he is imperious
Behold the slave of Love
Am.
Move my Queen this way?
Sure, he's some worthy man: then if he hedge me
Or here to open him.
Lean.
Do but behold me
If there be pity in you, do but view me,
But view the misery I have undertaken
For you the povertie.
Am.
He will come presently.
Now play your best Sir, though I loose this Rook here
Yet I get Libertie.
Lean.
I'le seize your fair hand
And warm it with a hundred, hundred kisses
The God of love warm your desires but equal
That shall play my game now.
Am.
What do you mean Sir?
Why do you stop me?
Lean.
That ye may intend me.
The time ha's blest us both: Love bids us use it.
I am a Gentleman nobly descended:
Young to invite your Love, rich to maintain it.
I bring a whole heart to ye, thus I give it,
And to those burning altars thus I offer,
And thus divine lips, where perpetuall Sping grows.
Am.
Take that, ye are too saucy.
Lean.
How proud Lady?
Strike my deserts?
Am.
I was too blame.
Enter Bartolus.
Bar.
What wife, there?
Heaven keep my house from thieves.
Lean.
I am wretched:
Opened, discovered, lost to my wishes.
I shall be whooted at.
Bar.
What noise was this (wife?)
Why dost thou smile?
Lean.
This proud thing will betray me.
Bar.
Why these lie here? what anger (deare?)
Am.
Why none, Sir,
Onely a chance, your pupill said he plaid well,
And so indeed he do's: he undertook for ye
Because I would not sit no long time idle
I made my Liberty avoided your mate,
And he again as cunningly endangered me,
Indeed he put me strangely to it. When presently
Hearing you come, and having broke his ambush too
Having the second time brought off my Queen fair,
I rose o'th' sudden smilingly to shew ye,
My apron caught the Chesse-board, and the men,
And there the noise was.
Bar.
Thou art grown a Master,
For all this, I shall beat ye.
Lean.
Or I, Lawyer,
For now I love her more, 'twas a neat answer,
And by it hangs a mighty hope, I thank her
She gave my pate a sound knock that it rings yet,
But you shall have a sounder if I live Lawyer,
My heart akes yet, I would not be in that fear—
Bar.
I am glad ye are a gamester, Sir, sometimes
For recreation we two shall fight hard at it.
Am.
He will prove too hard for me,
Lean.
I hope he shall do,
But your Ches-board is too hard for my head, line that good Lady,
Bar.
I have been attoning two most wrangling neighbours,
They had no money, therefore I made even
Come, let's go in, and eat, truly I am hungry.
Lean.
I have eaten already, I must intreat your pardon
Bar.
Do as ye please, we shall expect ye at supper.
He ha's got a little heart, now it seems handsomly,
Am.
You'l get no little head, if I do not look to ye.
Lean.
If ever I do catch thee again thou vanity—
Am.
I was too blame to be so rash, I am sorie—
Exeunt.
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