 | The Spanish Curat |  |
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.
| The Spanish Curat | |