 | The Bastard |  |
Act 3.
Scene 1.
Enter Roderiguez, Varina, and Corinna.Rod.
Thy Uncle, Love, holds still a jealous eye
On all my actions: and I am advis'd
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Are still behind the hangings: that the servants
Have from him in commands to watch who visits
Your self, or Mariana, 'twill be best,
And safest in my judgement, in his presence
That thou forbear to cast a smile upon me:
And that like old December I should look,
With an unpleasant and contracted brow:
Var.
Why? canst thou change thy heart, my Dear, that heart
Of flesh (thou gav'st me) into Adamant,
Or rigid Marble? canst thou frown on me?
Rod.
You do mistake me, sweet, I mean not so
To change my heart: I'll change my countenance,
But keep my heart as loyal, as before.
Var.
In troth I cannnot credit it, that thou
Canst cast a frown on me: I prithee try.
Rod.
Then thus!—
(He tries and cannot, they smile on each other.)
Var.
I prithee, sweet, betake thy self to schoole,
This Lesson thou must learn, in troth thou'rt out.
Rod.
Well! I must learn and practise it, or we
Shall blast our budding hopes.
Var.
Come! try again!
Rod.
But if I try, and prove a good proficient:
If I do act my part discreetly, you
Must take it as a Play, not as a truth,
Think it a formall, not a reall frown?
Var.
I shall.
Rod.
Then once more thus,
(He frowns, and saith, I' faith Mynion I'll look to you: she swounds.)
Cor.
My Mistress hath
The falling-sickness of us maids! help Sir!
Rod.
Why how now, sweet? I did distrust thy weakness:
Now I have learnt my part, you are to seek.
Var.
Faith! 'twas my weakness, when I did perceive
A cloud of rage condensed on thy brow,
My heart began to melt: but pardon, sweet!
'Twas an effeminate infirmity.
Rod.
This must be left: the world must be deluded,
With outward species; we must blind their eyes
With mists and shadows: Faith! thou must disclaim
Thy childishness, and arm thy self with valour:
Grow masculine my dear, an El'zabeth,
An English Eliz'beth, whose grave aspect
Though woman may decline thee almost man.
Var.
It must be so, or my effeminat heart
Will prove our ruine.
Enter Gastper.
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What? you're always billing?
Measuring your lips together? All the house
Is in an uproar: and your Uncles eye
Rolls up and down in every corner: haste,
Or you'll be taken: Don Præpontio came
To visit you, Varina: is enraged
To finde you absent: all your nuptiall robes
(He saies) are fitted, and your bridall bed:
Next Thursday is design'd to knit your hands:
The Priest will then in readiness attend:
This was the substance of his errand.
Var.
Gaspar!
I've thought thee still my friend: and thy advise
(I know) is sound: Contrive, which way I may
Shun Don Præpontio's bed; and keep my honour
Reserv'd for Roderiguez.
Rod.
Honest Gaspar!
Modell some way: 'tis not an armed Legion
Shall stop my passage, till I do efect it:
Gaspar, thy Counsell.
Gas.
Sir, your obligations
Have beam'd so freely on me, that my brain
Is wholly at your service: and this Lady
May likewise challenge, as her just desert,
What lies within the verge of my small power.
My counsell deems it best, that when the Church
Expects their near approach, in some disguise
You Roderiguez with some other blades,
Lay Don Præpontio breathless, and in haste
Convey your prize, Varina, to some Cottage
Which lies sequestred from the Cities eye:
There's the best safety, till the Inquisition
Is out of breath: and smiling fortune offer
A time, when you may marry her in peace.
Rod.
Your policy is orthodox, my hand
Shall ratifie it with a bloudy seal.
Exeunt.
Scena secunda.
Enter Præpontio, Alvarado, Rubio.Alv.
Nephew! you now are entring into th'world,
Let me advise you, who am well experienc'd,
Be not too credulous, trust none without
A good assurance: try before you trust.
Præ.
I warrant you, Vncle, your wealth link'd with my wit, will
make me an unparallell'd Gentleman, they will elect me Alcalde Major,
next year, or else I say there is no prudence in the gray-beards of
the City.
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Very pathetically spoken, when you are Governour of the City,
I hope you will give me a good Office.
Præ.
Yes! thou shalt have the honourable function of hangman:
how lik'st thou it?
Rub.
Marry Sir, I do not like hanging very well.
Præ.
Who art thou?
(Enter Taylor)
Tay.
Your worships Taylor, Sir.
Præ.
That is to say my worships thief, alias theif to my worship.
Are my wifes nuptiall Vestments ready?
Tay.
To the putting on Sir.
Præ.
Hast thou perfum'd the clasps and keepers?
Tay.
They will take no perfume, Sir.
Præ.
Hast thou made her petticoat to the behind or before?
Tay.
On the side, Sir, according to the French Fash'on.
Pra.
Yes! that's best. We Spaniards must now tout ala mode France.
Tay.
And her gown needs no fardingale Sir.
Præ.
Well, very well: give your attendance to morrow, and you
shal have a quarter of a chicken and a leoman for your dinner.
Rub.
Afford 6 pansillos, he may chance eat your dishes else.
Præ.
What's that?
Tay.
A busque.
Præ.
Must she wear it behind or before, or between her legs to
keep them from interferring!
Tay.
No! Sir, but on her breast, to hide her great belly.
Præ.
Are the Fidlers bespoken? has the shoo-makers brought home
my embroidered pantosles, I mean to dance in them: bid the Millainer
put ambergrease enough on my shirt, I shall stir till I think else.
Rub.
Of sweat Sir?
Præ.
I, what else?
Alv.
Come, Nephew, you had best go visit her to night.
Præ.
I'll go before you Sir.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Alonzo, Mariana, Gaspar.Alo.
Come you egregious strumpet
(Drags her, his sword drawn)
Abstract of impudence! what has my patience
Made thee presume of my connivency:
So much vile, Mynion, that your wanton lust
Durst gallop like a posthorse: run at base
In sin, and fearless meet lasciviousness:
As if that Saints and men had been as deep
Involv'd in sleep, as you in sin: and now
To see your lust dance Anticks? must my house
Be made the stewes, the sinfull receptacle.
Of you and your Adulterers? you could laugh
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The Gout doth hold him captive in his Couch,
We need not fear him: I did hear you Mistress,
And would have entred then, but that I thought
It more revenge, I held it greater Justice
To send thy soul (grown filthy) unto hell
Glutted with pleasures. Come, you'll tell me, Mistress,
Who 'twas, was with you.
Gas.
Thus outragious?
Fye! Patron! such a passion would befit
A husband better then a father: Age
Should furnish you with better temper, Cousin:
Sweet, wipe thy eyes: in troth 'tis but a trick
Common to such young folks, to have a servant,
A friend in privat to supply their wants:
Be not so passionate, you must forgive her.
Pardon, good Sir.
(Holds him)
Alo.
Stand by, or I shall turn
My rage on you! Insatiate Strumpet! was not
The man I destin'd for your husband, good:
(Too good for thee) but that thy wanton eyes
Must choose another? Must the Patrimony
I thought to leave thee, the estate I purchas'd
With such a care become a salary
To your hot sin: your Bastards shortly will
Call Grandfather, and look for portions
Out of my wealth, but I'll prevent it, Mynion:
Speak briefly!
(Mar. kneels down)
Ma.
What? that I have sinn'd? O Sir!
Remember I'm your daughter, let that name
Move you to pitty of my fact, which youth,
Unbridled youth occasion'd: though my crime
May challenge death, as it's desert: your hands
Ought not to be deaths messengers: 't suffices
That I have sinn'd, add not my delict
By making you a parricide: dear father,
Forgive me.
Alo.
No! Thou'st laid a stain upon
Our houses honour, which thy wanton blood,
Nought else can wash away.
Ma.
O! rob not Heav'ns
Of their prerogatives; let them revenge
Your quarrell, for my mothers sake, whom oft
You said my feature represented, spare me:
For her sake do it.
Alo.
Nay, for her sake rather
I must be mov'd to butcher thee, who fear'st not
So to profane her image, which remains
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Then in her monument: Thoud'st better 'ye pull'd
Her sacred reliques from their Urne, defil'd them,
Cast out her ashes on a dunghill, then
Committed this, for which her glorious soul
(If Saints can weep) makes heav'n a sea: O Girle!
Shame! that thou art my issue: I conceited
If there had ought been good in Nature, then
Thou had'st been Mistress of it: now I see
(Grief to my age!) I was too fond: Affection
Made me adore an Idol: I was cozen'd:
There is no trust in mortals.
Gas.
Pray you, Sir!
You are too much distemper'd: faith! her fault
Is not worth half this anger: take her up,
Let not the earth pollute those limbs, the pride
Of Natures workmanship, you may behold
In those fair Orbs true penitence, those tears
Were of sufficient vertue to restore
A person damn'd to paradise: forgive her:
Or you're too cruel, Signior.
Alo.
Let her then
Reveal her Partner.
Gas.
That demand's unjust,
If she should do it, men should fear hereafter
To pleasure women, when they see that threats
Can force Discoveries: good Sir, ask it not,
'Tis too unreas'nable.
Ma.
What said my Father?
Alo.
Marry, ungratious minyon: I would know
Whom you have chosen for your stallion,
To glut your never-sated Orke withlust.
Ma.
Is't me you mean Sir? slack your passion, Sir.—
Gas.
Conceal him, if you do affect his life.
(Whispers to her)
Ma.
These lips yet tepid with his frequent kisses,
Before they utter ought to hurt him, shall
Be clos'd for ever, rather rot with Cankers.
Gas.
Noble Virago!
Alo.
Then resolve to die.
Ma.
I care not, here's my bosome, rip it up,
And steal an acute Eagles eye to pry
Into my hearts small caverns, and explore
His name, that writ there, yet it will remain
Hid in some little Concave, that your fury
Shall never know it: kill me, I shall smile
On ugly death: embrace her with a soul
Triumphant as a Martyrs, I will perish
A thousand times, e're once I wil disclose
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Alo.
Do you brave me? do you?
(Gaspar holds him)
Let go my hands.
Gas.
I must not, will not let you
Draw mischief on your self: go in sweet Coz!
Let me alone with him.
Exit Mariana.
Alo.
Stand off: Let go,
And let me follow her.
Gas.
For what? your rage
Shall not have way to do an act: which done,
You'ld wail in tears for ever, should you kill her,
Think what a crime you onerate your soul with,
Next, what a scandall would ensue: a man
Of your known worth at this age to become
A Parricide on such a daughter, only
For keeping close her friend: Why should you be
Inquisitive to know him?
Alo.
T'have revenge.
Gas.
Why so I did imagin: banish rage,
And hear with reasons ears: be sure your daughter
Has plac'd her love on some base one, she dares not
Make privy to your ear, should she disclose him,
You would, she thinks, have vengeance for her fault:
Were he a person noble, she would haste
To tell his name, boast of her choice: how say you?
Is not this reason?
(Lets go his hands)
Alo.
Very true!
Gas.
He being
A man so worthless, 't would disgrace you more
In seeking vengeance, for the humourous world
Apt to suspect the worse, would judge the Cause
Of your revenge to be, as 'tis: and so
You lay your own dishonour, and your daughters,
Open, which else might sleep unmention'd, none
But you and I are privy to't, and e're
A syllable should pass in your disgrace
Out of my mouth, I vvould be dumb.
Alo.
But Gaspar!
What shall I do vvith her? For Balthasar
Will publish her disgrace, so all vvill shun
Her hated Nuptials: I'll go make her enter
'Mong barefoot Nuns into some Monastery,
Spend the long remnant of her blooming youth
In holy prayers and penitence: I'll make
The poor my heirs, found sacred Hospitals,
Build Colledges vvith my revenues.
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Madness!
Religious madness! that's the ready way
To sell her to damnation: will her spirit,
(Can you conceive) which now doth pass the limits
Of Liberty, endure a Cloister! Balthasar?
Fear not his clamours; wise men will impute
Them to his passion; 'cause h'as lost her, rather
Then to her merit: Patron, you may finde
Some younger Brother noble as her self
To be her husband; Gold will make her seem
A virgin, though a Mother.
Alo.
Honest Gaspar!
I know thou lov'st me.
Gas.
As I doe the bliss
I hope for.
Alo.
And, alas! ungratefull I
Have been too negligent of thy worth, but thou
Hast inurn'd all those acts.
Gas.
'Ts my Duty.
Alo.
Once
I promis'd thee her marriage, and in Justice
She is thy wife; and sure Astræa's angry
For th'injury I did thee, and imposeth
This heavy cross upon me; wilt thou now
Solemnize with her Hymens sacred rites?
Be not dismaid; although her hair-brain'd youth
To heat of blood, then her condition,
She may be honest.
Gas.
Honest! I dare swear
She will be truly vertuous, but the meanness
Of my poor fortunes makes me worthless, I
Have a spot in my blood, which would dishonour
Your family, reserve that, Sir, for one
Of noble and illustrious Parentage;
Whose worth and quality may add a title
Unto your houses fame; for my part, I
Nourish no such thoughts; all the height my poor
Ambition soars at, is to be esteem'd
Your humble slave still.
Alo.
Thou'rt too humble, Gaspar,
Erect thy Spirit, man, thou hadst a Father
Had fire in's veins; come, thou shalt marry her;
I doe command you.
Gas.
Your commands are laws,
As sacred to me as are Oracles,
I must not break them.
Alo.
Thou wilt wed her then?
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Since you command it.
Alo.
Now I see thou lov'st me.
Call me no more thy Patron, but thy Father.
I will acquaint my daughter with my will.
Exit.
Gas.
Have I not labour'd finely? has my brain
Not won the Laurell wreath? She is my own,
And what care I now what the envious world
Can say of me? They'l call me Cuckold, that's
In my esteem, as much as they should call
Me Signior: Let her take her pleasure, she,
Not I, doth sin: I'm sure she will afford me
My fill at night too. Happy Age! when all
Were common, when old Natures lawes were read
Without a Comment: every man was free
For every woman: then none fear'd the stab
For kissing.
Enter Picarro.
Pic.
Save you Gaspar.
Gas.
And you too:
Sir, what's your businesse?
Pic.
'Tis not, Sir, with you,
'Tis with your Master.
Exit.
Gas.
With your Master? Hem!
How scornfully this youth demeans himselfe?
E're long, when I am married, I shall be
Sir Don, or any thing.
Enter Alonzo and Picarro.
Pic.
Good Sir, my Father
Commends him to you, and intreats you would
For satisfaction of the debt he owes you,
Accept his land at Cordova in mortgage,
And pay old Frederiques debt.
Alo.
I grieve, Picarro,
That he should com to this; but 'tis his fate,
I'll doe him any courtesie, return
This as my answer.
Pic.
Honor'd Sir, I shall.
(is going out.)
Alo.
A handsome man, and an observant son.
Call back Picarro, Gaspar!
Gas.
Sir, Picarro.
My Father doth request you to return.
Alo.
Signior Picarro, I so much lament
Your noble Fathers case, that will you truly
Resolve me one thing, I will pay his debts
Without your mortgage.
Pic.
'Tshould be difficult
That I would not doe for his liberty.
Alo.
Are you in love
Pic.
Not to my knowledge.
Alo.
Could
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Gas.
Corinna
Were a fit match for him.
Pic.
Yes, of your choosing.
Alo.
You've seen my daughter Mariana, what
Say you to her?
Gas.
She is contracted, Sir,
Surely he will not break his promise with me.
Pic.
Your daughters worth's beyond my hopes.
Alo.
But say,
That you should have her, could you her affect?
Gas.
Sure! sure he jests.
Pic.
Nothing but heav'n and bliss,
I should desire more then her love.
Alo.
Picarro;
I doe so much commiserate thy Father,
And thy own sufferings, that I am resolv'd
To give her to thee; and thy land shall be
Her Joynture.
Gas.
Do I dream? Ha! ha! I hope
I shall not be deluded, Patron, Father,
What doe you mean?
Alo.
Peace! slave! I'll tell her of it.
Exit.
Gas.
But surely, Patron, you will not deale thus?
Heark, Sir, you mean to marry her?
Pic.
I doe.
Gas.
You see this sword?
Pic.
I, what of that?
Gas.
Nay nothing.
It is a pure Toledo blade, it cost
As it is really worth, twelve Duccats, Sir.
But if you marry her, you have a woman.
Pic.
I hope she's no Hermaphrodite.
Gas.
No, but
She's something else, a Whore.
Pic.
Out slave! thou'rt frantick.
Exit.
Gas.
O! that I were but valiant, had but heart
Great as my wrongs are, or but so much power
As would suffice to right them; I could pull
The Crystall Axell that supports the Spheares,
Down to the earth, that all the world might perish
Together with my selfe, since all have sworn
To be stark villains with me: I'm resolv'd
Flectere si nequeo Superos, Acheronta movere.
To Hell, I'll now address me.
Enter Balthazar.
Bal.
Thou art come
Now to thy period, Bastard! 'twas your plot
To bring me 'mong my enemies, on purpose
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Thy ruine. Say thy Prayers.—
(drawes his Sword)
Gasp,
What mean you, Sir?
Bal.
To kill thee, slave, and so set free the earth
From bearing such an execrable monster
Such an inhumane villain.
Gas.
As you're noble,
Lend me a little utterance, till I cloath
In vocall sounds, a businesse that concerns
Your honour neerly.
Bal.
But be brief, thy breath
Will blast me else.
Gas.
You come, you say, to kill me?
I'm glad that Nature has afforded life
To such a wretch as I am, till my blood
May doe a person of your worth a pleasure.
Bal.
And is this all?
Gas.
Forbeare a little, heare me;
You doe suppose it was my plot to bring
You to your death, I do confesse.
Bal.
What? Speak!
Gas.
That won with gifts, I did entice you thither
To your destruction: But, hear me, Sir,
There's none so vile, but may repent; and since
Your Fate afforded you a happier lot,
Then to be slain, forgive me: if the blood
Of such a miscreant, can ought avail you,
I'll give it you my selfe, you shall not stain
Your noble hands with my poore homicide.
Bal.
Rare! excellent villain: But methinks those tears
And looks, spring out of feigned penitence;
Disclose the man that hurt me, and I'll pardon
Thy horrid fact, and raise thee.
Gas.
Willingly:
'Twas he must be her husband.
Bal.
Who?
Gas.
Picarro.
Bal.
May I beleeve you? Is this truth?
Gas.
Else kill me.
Bal.
Farewell! there's gold.
Gas.
But stay, if one so vile
As I may give you counsell?
Bal.
Any thing
That tends to his destruction.
Gas.
Your hot breast
Thirsts for revenge; let it be noble, he
Off'red you publick wrong, let your revenge
Be publick too!
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As how?
Gasp.
As thus, to morrow
When he returns from's wisht-for Nuptials,
Meet him, and kill him, then escape into
The Church, 'twill be your Castle and Asylum;
'Tis brave and safe.
Bal.
Ingenious Gaspar, think
He's dead already.
Exit.
Gas.
This hits right, let all
Perish; I care not, if I rise, who fall.
Exit.
Scena quarta.
Enter Roderiguez, Chaves, Engenia disguised.Rod.
Tis strange, my Father, Sir, should come to hear on't
Cha.
It was that knavish Boy that did betray us.
Eug.
Pray, Sir, be pleased to return your answer.
Rod.
Friend, you may walk, I've nothing to return.
Eug.
Then without bashfull feare, or flatrery,
You are a noble villain.
Rod.
How now, Sirrah!
Eug.
Is not your Fathers love to be esteem'd
Before your friends? Does not your naturall duty,
You ow him, stirre a fury in your blood
Against that traytor? Poore Eugenia! she
Wearies with tears, ev'n griefe it self, to think
Of this curst perjury, and her brothers Spirit,
Which either doth for fear, or fond affection
To that ignoble perjurer, permit
Him breath without revenge; but were it mine,
As 'tis your case, I would devoure him up
Like some wild Anthropophagus: Let Nature
Convince you, kill him.
Rod.
Hold your peace, and walk,
Be gone, or I—
Eug.
What dar'st thou, noble villain!
Thy Father on his blessing charges thee
To take revenge; and dost thou onely not
Contemne his will, but keep society
With his curst Enemy; marke his cursings, Sir,
Thinke on his blessings.
Rod.
Honest friend! the love
I beare your noble quality assayes
Me to detain still with you, but my duty
Commands me not t'incurre my fathers curse.
I must desert you.
Cha.
Prithee doe, kind Coxcombe!
I'm glad I'm rid of thee.
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Yet e're we part,
Thinke on my sisters merit, how, her virtues
Transcend your Mistris qualities; next view
The perill that you are in; Should it come
To Balthazar, that you did wound him, death
Would sure ensue; but for our former love
Let me entreat you be reclaim'd.
Cha:
I must not,
Nor will not, you may:
Rod.
Sure! I am bewitchd,
To love him, when I offer to relinquish
His Company; there's something loads my feete
With lead, I cannot leave him, fellow, goe,
Return this answer to my Father, that
When I come home, I'll satisfy him, why
I did not doe his pleasure, so be gone—
Without reply:
Eug.
Well Sir.
Exit.
Enter Catalina.
Cat.
O! Sir Chaves! what shall we doe Sir Chaves? my Mistris—
Rod.
What of his love? are we discovered?
Cat.
O! worse! she's to be married.
Rod.
Married?
Cat.
I marry, married too morrow at Saint Saviours Church.
Rod.
Alas! poore man! to whom?
Cat.
I know not; oh! I know not!
(Wrings her hands.)
Hold him.
(Chaves sinks down.)
Rod.
Good Sir cheere your selfe.
Cha.
Some lucklesse serene blast me, may a damp
Thick as Thyestes darkness spring from Dis,
And muffle up the world in endless night;
That none may see those nuptialls, which I'll make
Fatall as Jasons; tell your faithless Mistris
In stead of pines, I'll send her tapers, Yew,
And deadly Cypresse to make green her bed,
Where virgin Laurell and such harmless boughes
Dare not approach for fear of blasting; Fiends
Will be her Bridemaids; surely I was borne
With all good stars my Opposites. Is't too morrow?
Rod:
Yes Sir too morrow? pray, why rave you thus?
Cha.
I pray Sir tell me, may we not, e're then
Borrow some toylsome woodnetts, and invite
The gallant youth o'th' City to goe hunt
In yonder desarts?
Rod.
Why? what then?
Cha.
To take
The salvage walkers of the wilderness,
Bulls, Wolves and Tygers, and manure them up
In yonder spatious Amphitheater:
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Roare, howle, and raise a Clamour, which may rend,
Like some huge thunderclap the trembling Earth,
That all, e're then, might sink to hell, ha! is't not
Brave? lett's about it, friend.
Rod.
Why should you be
Thus cruell? Sir, your rage transports you.
Cha.
Whither?
Now I know, maid, when she hath seen her own,
She'll view my nuptialls.
Cat.
'Ll you be married too?
Cha.
Married? I'll study to surpasse her falshood,
Her curious eyes, I make no doubt, have chosen
A handsome Bridegroome?
Cat.
Yes! indeed.
Cha.
To let
Her see how much I scorn her and her beauty,
I'll wed me to a Creature, in whose looks
Foulnesse is truly character'd, whose eyes
Are poysonous as a Basilicks, and scarse
Afford their Owner light enough to see
Her bodies horrid edifice, whose frame
Is the true substance, which Anatomists
Aime to decipher in their strange dissections
Of livelesse Mortalls; tell her 'tis to death
I'll wed my selfe; the grave shall be our bed.
Rod.
'Tis none of hers, it is her fathers fault;
Study prevention, or you lose her.
Cha.
Did you
Not, tell me she was to be married?
Rod.
Yes! but I hope we shall finde means to hinder't.
(Whisper)
Cha.
I'll take your Counsell.
Exeunt.
Scæna quinta.
Enter Balthazar and Boy with a pistoll.Bal.
Bring th'pistoll hither? is it charg'd?
Boy.
It is sir:
Exit.
Bal.
Begon, then quickly. Now Picarro breath
Till 9. a Clock, no longer; hug thy Mistris
Such poyson form her lips till then, and glory
That thou bereav'dst me of her.
Enter Eugenia
Eug.
Is your name
Balthazar? sonne to Frederique?
Bal.
Yes! friend.
Eug.
I come to tell you, that you have been wrong'd,
Sold to destruction.
Bal.
All the Town knowes that,
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My wounders sent you to explore my secrets;
Prithee about thy business.
Eug.
Can that front,
Those limbs of yours which stile you man, endure
Such an abuse without revenge? I come
T'informe who 'twas that hurt you.
Bal.
Pish! I know them.
Eug.
And can they live unstigmatiz'd for villains?
Surely you know them not, they're strangers here.
Bal.
Did not Picarro hurt me?
Eug,
He poor man!
Is injur'd to be wedded to a strumpet.
Chaves, one Chaves wounded you.
Bal.
What's he?
What is that Chaves?
Eug:
A base villain, Sir.
Bal.
How know'st thou this?
Eug.
By's own confession, Sir,
'Tis he that wounded you, and gratious Themis
Has you decipherd for her instrument
Of vengeance; Chaves is his name on forfeit
Of all the lives I have, I'll make good what
I told you, and conduct you to the person
That injur'd you.
Bal.
Picarro then is guiltlesse?
Eug.
As is my selfe.
Bal.
Chaves! well let him walk
Till I can meet him, then 'tis odds, this Arme
Shall pay his falshood; but Picarro must not
Passe thus, depart not from me, friend.
Exit.
Eug.
No Sir
Now perjur'd Chaves is thy Fate at hand,
And if Eugenia lives, thou shalt not stand.
Exit.
Scena sexta.
Enter Alvarado, Varina. Præpontio. Alonzo. Rubio. Hebes. Fidlers.Præ.
Play louder Picroes, that string's made of an Usurers gut, it
sounds like the jyngling of a mony-bag. Fy! on these Gitterns
and Treble-base viols, they are not comparable to an Italian barbiton;
march on my deare Colloquintida, Uncle, you are not so merry
as the solemnity of my presence deserves. March on fidlers, the furmitee
my English Cooke promised to make me, will be burnt too else;
but what's that Rubio?
Rub.
O Sir! a peece too rare for vulgar eyes,
And worthy only your perspicuous judgment:
52
And Epithalamium I composed on your wedding, you'll allow my
Mistris Bride to kiss me for't?
Alv.
Nephew, it will serve better at home then here.
Var.
Good Husband! Without Ceremony.
Præ.
Good Husband? How sweetly her throat utters it? All the
Pricksong in St. Saviours is not like those two words; but lead the
way while I support my magnificent Corps, with my Mistresses fain.
Arm through this dark Entry; they say it is haunted with spirits; but
if they come, we'll conjure them.
Oh! The Cramp, the Spavins, the Yellow Janders, the Grincoms,
the wambling Trot, or some such Belly vengeance has put my guts out
of joynt. I tell you, Rubio, untruss my points.
Rub.
So you may chance contaminate my fingers. Alas! You
bleed.
Præ.
Is it my blood red or yellow?
Rub.
'Tis white, Sir.
Præ.
Oh! Dismal, dismal! Don Præpontio's guts are too big for
his belly.
Alv.
Alas! My Nephew's wounded! Look about who hurt him?
Rub.
'S life, here's nothing but the walls, unless they be invisible.
Master, you do, but dream, you are not wounded.
Præ.
I am neither Husband, nor Master now, but I must die; I leave
my body to be buried; and good Uncle, sweet Wife, and honest Rubio,
put a musket, powder and shot into the Coffin with me.
Rub.
Look how those Rosy cheekes convert to Dazies!
Præ.
On my blessing do as I bid you, or my furious Ghost will
haunt you; for since it was some Spirit of the Buttery; because I loved
wine well; or Hobgoblin, because I used to lick the Cream bowls,
that has done me this injury to kill me; I will when I come among
them be revenged; for sure it is, I must go whisper two or three words
with Pluto and his Fraternity; bury me in a Coletta, or Buffe jacket,
that Rapiers may no more hurt me.
Ready to pierce my Lions heart?
Alv.
Alas! Poor Nephew, he bleeds!
Præ.
Yet, Uncle, I will spite of his nose bequeath my moveables;
First, to my seet Wife Varina I give all my Plate and Jewels; and to
my Uncle all that I have in my Closet. viz. Two Holland Cheeses,
three pound of Raisins Solis, &c. And to thee my servant Rubio, all
that I have in my Pockets, as also the Handkercher wrought with Coventry
blew, and my Needle-case and Thimble, &c. But good Rubio;
put my sneezing box with me into the Tomb, it will clear my eies.
The Valiant soul of Don Præpontio.
(dies.)
Alo.
But where's my Neece? Varina! Oh! She's gone;
This is some cursed plot; let's in, and send
Poasts to way-lay them, e'er they take to Sea,
53
And bring them back to judgements bar. Hard fate!
What plagues of grief hang on my aged head,
And drop their vengeance on my hoary haires
In showers of blood? Was't not enough my daughter
Defam'd my Family by her goat-like lust;
But now my Neece, Varina must conspire
With Villaines to disgrace me? Could her baseness
No safety finde, but by her Husbands blood?
Rebellious Children! Know a Fathers hand
Provok'd, strikes hard; and though I do endure
Your faults awhile, my vengeance shall strike sure.
Exeunt.
Heb.
Oh! My sweet Master. I am undone, I am undone, many
an Ashwednesday and Goodfriday nights supper must my belly make; I
was no sooner come from being an under-Scullion to be an under-Cooke;
but now I must Crab-like crawle backward from being an
under-Cooke to be an under-Scullion, or any thing! Oh, miserable!
Well, I will go in, and fill my belly now, though I fast the longer
afterwards; if fate has decreed that all the fat must be in the fire, it
must be so; my belly must pray patience; I fear this next year will
be nothing but Ember weeks.
Exit.
| The Bastard | |