Chapter 3
Faith never be: I am glad on't, He keeps the house of pride, and foolery: I mean to shun it: so return my Answer, 'Twill shortly spew him out; Come, let's be merry, And lay our heads together, carefully How we may help our friend; and let's lodge near him, Be still at hand: I would not for my patrimony, But he should crown his Lawyer, a learned Monster; Come, let's away, I am stark mad till I see him.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENA IV.
_Enter_ Bartolus, _and_ Amaranta.
_Amar_.
Why will ye bring men in, and yet be jealous? Why will ye lodge a young man, a man able, And yet repine?
_Bar_.
He shall not trouble thee, sweet, A modest poor slight thing, did I not tell thee He was only given to the Book, and for that How Royally he paies? finds his own meat too.
_Amar_.
I will not have him here: I know your courses, And what fits you will fall into of madness.
_Bar_.
'Faith, I will not, Wife.
_Amar_.
I will not try ye.
_Bar_.
He comes not near thee: shall not dare to tread Within thy Lodgings: in an old out-Room Where Logs, and Coles were laid.
_Amar_.
Now ye lay fire; fire to consume your quiet.
_Bar_.
Didst thou know him, Thou wouldst think as I do: he disquiet thee? Thou mayst wear him next thy heart, and yet not warm him. His mind (poor man) 's o'th' Law, how to live after, And not on lewdness: on my Conscience He knows not how to look upon a Woman More than by reading what Sex she is.
_Amar_.
I do not like it, Sir.
_Bar_.
Do'st thou not see (Fool) What presents he sends hourly in his gratefulness? What delicate meats?
_Amar_.
You had best trust him at your Table, Do, and repent it, do.
_Bar_.
If thou be'st willing, By my troth, I think he might come, he's so modest, He never speaks: there's part of that he gave me, He'll eat but half a dozen bits, and rise immediately, Even as he eats, he studies: he'll not disquiet thee, Do as thou pleasest, Wife.
_Amar_.
What means this Wood-cock?
[_Knock within_.
_Bar_.
Retire, Sweet, there's one knocks: come in, your business.
_Enter_ Servant.
_Ser_.
My Lord, _Don Henrique_, would entreat ye, Sir, To come immediately, and speak with him, He has business of some moment.
_Bar_.
I'le attend him, I must be gone: I pre'thee think the best, Wife, At my return, I'le tell thee more, good morrow; Sir, keep ye close, and study hard: an hour hence I'le read a new Case to ye.--
[_Exit_.
[Leandro _within_.]
_Lean_.
I'le be ready.
_Amar_.
So many hundred Duckets, to ly scurvily? And learn the pelting Law? this sounds but slenderly, But very poorly: I would see this fellow, Very fain see him, how he looks: I will find To what end, and what study: there's the place: I'le go o'th' other side, and take my Fortune. I think there is a window.
[_Exit_.
_Enter_ Leandro.
_Lean_.
He's gone out Now, if I could but see her: she is not this way: How nastily he keeps his house! my Chamber, If I continue long, will choak me up, It is so damp: I shall be mortified For any woma[n], if I stay a month here: I'le in, and strike my Lute, that sound may call her.
[_Exit_.
Lute _and_ Song.
1.
_Dearest do not you delay me, Since thou knowest I must be gone; Wind and Tide 'tis thought doth stay me, But 'tis wind that must be blown From that breath, whose native smell Indian Odours far excel_.
2.
_Oh then speak thou fairest fair, Kill not him that vows to serve thee, But perfume this neighbouring Air; Else dull silence sure will starve me: 'Tis a word that's quickly spoken, Which being restrained a heart is broken_.
_Enter_ Amaranta.
_Amar_.
He keeps very close: Lord, how I long to see him! A Lute strook handsomely, a voice too; I'le hear that: These Verses are no Law, they sound too sweetly, Now I am more desirous.
[Leandro _peeping_.
_Lean_.
'Tis she certain.
_Amar_.
What's that that peeps?
_Lean_.
O admirable face!
_Amar_.
Sure 'tis the man.
_Lean_.
I will go out a little.
_Amar_.
He looks not like a fool, his face is noble: How still he stands!
_Lean_.
I am strucken dumb with wonder, Sure all the Excellence of Earth dwells here.
_Amar_.
How pale he looks! yet, how his eyes like torches, Fling their beams round: how manly his face shews! He comes on: surely he will speak: he is made most handsomly: This is no Clerk behaviour; now I have seen ye, I'le take my time: Husband, ye have brought home tinder.
[_Exit_.
_Lean_.
Sure she has transform'd me, I had forgot my tongue clean, I never saw a face yet, but this rare one, But I was able boldly to encounter it, And speak my mind, my lips were lockt up here. This is divine, and only serv'd with reverence; O most fair cover of a hand far fairer, Thou blessed Innocence, that guards that whiteness, Live next my heart. I am glad I have got a relick,
[_A noise within_]
A relick when I pray to it, may work wonders. Hark, there's some noise: I must retire again. This blessed Apparition makes me happy; I'le suffer, and I'le sacrifice my substance, But I'le enjoy: now softly to my Kennel.
[_Exit_.
_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima_.
_Enter_ Henrique, _and_ Bartolus.
_Hen_.
You know my cause sufficiently?
_Bar_.
I do Sir.
_Hen_.
And though it will impair 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 spightful Brother, That most insultingly raigns over me, I must and will go forward.
_Bar_.
Do, my Lord, And look not after credit, we shall cure that, Your bended honesty we shall set right, Sir, We Surgeons of the Law do desperate Cures, Sir, And you shall see how heartily I'le handle it: Mark how I'le knock it home: be of good chear, Sir, You give good Fees, and those beget good Causes, The Prerogative of your Crowns will carry the matter, (Carry it sheer) the _Assistant_ sits to morrow, And he's your friend, your monyed men love naturally, And as your loves are clear, 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 poor Issues.
_Hen_.
That way, I was ever bountiful.
_Bar_.
'Tis true, Sir, That makes ye fear'd, forces the Snakes to kneel to ye, Live full of mony, 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 own: I must have witnesses Enough, and ready.
_Hen_.
You shall not want, my _Bartolus_.
_Bar_.
Substantial fearless souls, that will swear suddenly, That will swear any thing.
_Hen_.
They shall swear truth too.
_Bar_.
That's no great matter: for variety They may swear truth, else 'tis not much look'd after: I will serve Process, presently, and strongly, Upon your Brother, and _Octavio_, _Jacintha_, and the Boy; provide your proofs, Sir, And set 'em fairly off, be sure of Witnesses, Though they cost mony, want no store of witnesses, I have seen a handsome Cause so foully 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 feel the pulses strongly beat, I'le study, And at my hour, but mark me, go, be happy, Go and believe i'th' Law.
_Hen_.
I hope 'twill help me.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENA II.
_Enter_ Lopez, Diego, _and four_ Parishioners _and_ Singers.
_Lop_.
Ne're talk to me, I will not stay amongst ye, Debaush'd and ignorant lazie knaves I found ye, And fools I leave ye. I have taught these twenty years, 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 mony 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.
_Die_.
Would they were, for my sake.
_Lap_.
I have Nointed ye, and Tarr'd ye with my Doctrine, And yet the Murren sticks to ye, yet ye are Mangy, I will avoid ye.
2.
Pray ye, Sir, be not angry, In the pride of your new Cassock, do not part with us, We do acknowledge ye are a careful Curate, And one that seldom troubles us with Sermons, A short slice of a Reading serves us, Sir, We do 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 only benefactor to our Bowling, 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 born to a more beseeming fortune Than ringing all-in, to a rout of Dunces.
4.
We will increase your Tithes, you shall have Eggs 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 year, Sir.
2.
I am a Cook, a man of a dri'd Conscience, Yet thus far I relent: you shall have tith Pottage.
3.
Your stipend shall be rais'd too, good Neighbour _Diego_.
_Die._
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 poor 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 door, Neighbours, You may go in, and drive away the Dawes.
_Lop_.
My Surpless, with one sleeve, you shall find there, For to that dearth of Linnen you have driven me; And the old Cutwork Cope, that hangs by Geometry: 'Pray ye turn '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 zeals they have against hard places. The Poor-mans Box is there too: if ye find any thing Beside the Posie, and that half rub'd out too, For fear it should awake too much charity, 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 hasty.
_Die_.
I'le speak a proud word to ye, Would ye have us stay?
_2._.
We do most heartily pray ye.
_3._.
I'le draw as mighty drink, Sir.
_Lop_.
A strong motive, The stronger still, the more ye come unto me. _3._. And I'le send for my Daughter.
_Lop_.
This may stir too: The Maiden is of age, and must be edified.
_4._.
You shall have any thing: lose our learned Vicar? And our most constant friend; honest dear _Diego_?
_Die_.
Yet all this will not do: I'le 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 do us right in these points, You shall be bound, and this the obligation, Dye when 'tis fit, that we may have fit duties, And do not seek to draw out our undoings, Marry try'd Women, that are free, and fruitful, Get Children in abundance, for your Christnings, Or suffer to be got, 'tis equal justice.
_Lop_.
Let Weddings, Christnings, Churchings, Funerals, And merry Gossippings go round, go round still, Round as a Pig, that we may find the profit.
_Die_.
And let your old men fall sick handsomely, And dye immediately, their Sons may shoot up: Let Women dye o'th' Sullens too, 'tis natural, 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 concerns me, There's a Child's Burial lost, look that be mended.
_Lop_.
Let 'em be brought to Bed, then dye when they please. These things considered, Country-men, and sworn to.
2.
All these, and all our Sports again, and Gambols.
3.
We must dye, 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 befriend my Neighbours, I'le labour hard but I'le fill your Font, Sir.
1.
I have a Mother now, and an old Father, They are as sure your own, within these two months--
4.
My Sister must be pray'd for too, she is desperate, Desperate in love.
_Die_.
Keep desperate men far from her, Then 'twill go hard: do you see how melancholy? Do you mark the man? do you profess ye love him? And would do any thing to stay his fury? And are ye unprovided to refresh him, To make him know your loves? fie Neighbours.
2.
We'll do 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.
SONG.
1
_Let the Bells ring, and let the Boys sing, The young Lasses skip and play, Let the Cups go round, till round goes the ground, Our Learned old Vicar will stay_.
2
_Let the Pig turn merrily, merrily ah, And let the fat Goose swim, For verily, verily, verily ah, Our Vicar this day shall be trim_.
3
_The stewed Cock shall Crow, Cock-a-loodle-loo, A loud Cock-a-loodle shall he Crow; The Duck and the Drake, shall swim in a lake Of Onions and Claret below_.
4
_Our Wives shall be neat, to bring in our meat; To thee our most noble adviser, Our pains shall be great, and Bottles shall sweat, And we our selves will be wiser_.
5
_We'll labour and swinck, we'll kiss and we'll drink, And Tithes shall come thicker and thicker; We'll fall to our Plow, and get Children enough, And thou shalt be learned old Vicar_.
_Enter_ Arsenio _and_ Milanes.
_Ars_.
What ails this Priest? how highly the thing takes it!
_Mil_.
Lord how it looks! has he not bought some Prebend? _Leandro's_ mony makes the Rascal merry, Merry at heart; he spies us.
_Lop_.
Be gone Neighbours, Here are some Gentlemen: be gone good Neighbours, Be gone, and labour to redeem my favour, No more words, but be gone: these two are Gentlemen, No company for crusty-handed fellows.
_Die_.
We will stay for a year or two, and try ye.
_Lop_.
Fill all your hearts with joy, we will stay with ye, Be gone, no more; I take your pastimes graciously.
[_Exeunt Parishioners_.
Would ye with me, my friends?
_Ars_.
We would look upon ye, For me thinks ye look lovely.
_Lop_.
Ye have no Letters? Nor any kind Remembrances?
_Mil_.
Remembrances?
_Lop_.
From _Nova Hispania_, or some part remote, Sir, You look like Travel'd men: may be some old friends That happily I have forgot; some Signiours In _China_ or _Cataya_; some Companions--
_Die_.
In the _Moguls_ Court, or else-where.
_Ars_.
They are mad sure.
_Lop_.
Ye came not from _Peru_? do they look, _Diego_, As if they had some mystery about 'em? Another _Don Alonzo_ now?
_Die_.
I marry, And so much mony, 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 do not think ye do.
_Lop_.
A new mistake, _Diego_, Let's carry it decently.
_Ars_.
We come to tell ye, You have received great sums from a young Factor They call _Leandro_, that has rob'd his Master, Rob'd him, and run away.
_Die_.
Let's keep close, Master; This news comes from a cold Country.
_Lop_.
By my faith it freezes.
_Mil_.
Is not this true? do you shrink now good-man Curat? Do I not touch ye?
_Lop_.
We have a hundred Duckets Yet left, we do beseech ye, Sir--
_Mil_.
You'll hang both.
_Lop_.
One may suffice.
_Die_.
I will not hang alone, Master, I had the least part, you shall hang the highest. Plague o' this _Tiveria_, and the Letter, The Devil sent it post, to pepper us, From _Nova Hispania_, we shall hang at home now.
_Ars_.
I see ye are penitent, and I have compassion: Ye are secure both; do 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 do not handsomely endeavour--
_Ars_.
Go home, and till ye hear more, keep private, Till we appear again, no words, Vicar, There's something added.
_Mil_.
For you too.
_Lop_.
We are ready.
_Mil_.
Go and expect us hourly, if ye falter, Though ye had twenty lives--
_Die_.
We are fit to lose 'em.
_Lop_.
'Tis most expedient that we should hang both.
_Die_.
If we be hang'd, we cannot blame our fortune.
_Mil_.
Farewel, and be your own friends.
_Lop_.
We expect ye.--
[_Exeunt_.
SCENA III.
_Enter_ Octavio, Jacintha, _and_ Ascanio.
_Octa_.
We cited to the Court!
{_A Bar, Table-book, 2 Chairs, and Paper, standish set out.
_Jac_.
It is my wonder.
_Octa_.
But not our fear, _Jacintha_; wealthy men, That have Estates to lose; whose conscious thoughts Are full of inward guilt, may shake with horrour To have their Actions sifted, or appear Before the Judge. But we that know our selves As innocent, as poor, that have no Fleece On which the Talons of the griping Law Can take sure hold, may smile with scorn on all That can be urg'd against us.
_Jac_.
I am confident There is no man so covetous, that desires To ravish our wants from us, and less hope There can be so much Justice left on earth, (T[h]ough sued, and call'd upon) to ease us of The burthen of our wrongs.
_Octa_.
What thinks _Ascanio_? Should we be call'd in question, or accus'd Unjustly, what would you do to redeem us From tyrannous oppression?
_Asc_.
I could pray To him that ever has an open ear, To hear the innocent, and right their wrongs; Nay, by my troth, I think 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_ Jamie _and_ Bartolus.
_Octa_.
Happy simplicitie!
_Jac_.
My dearest and my best one, _Don Jamie_.
_Octa_.
And the Advocate, that caus'd us to be summon'd.
_Asc_.
My Lord is mov'd, I see it in his looks, And that man, in the Gown, in my opinion Looks like a proguing Knave.
_Jac_.
Peace, give them leave.
_Jam_.
Serve me with Process?
_Bar_.
My Lord, you are not lawless.
_Jam_.
Nor thou honest; One, that not long since was the buckram Scribe, That would run on mens errands for an Asper, And from such baseness, having rais'd a Stock To bribe the covetous Judge, call'd to the Bar. So poor in practice too, that you would plead A needy Clyents Cause, for a starv'd Hen, Or half a little Loin of Veal, though fly-blown, And these, the greatest Fees you could arrive at For just proceedings; but since you turn'd Rascal--
_Bar_.
Good words, my Lord.
_Jam_.
And grew my Brothers Bawd, In all his vitious courses, soothing him In his dishonest practises, you are grown The rich, and eminent Knave, in the Devils name, What am I cited for?
_Bar_.
You shall know anon, And then too late repent this bitter language, Or I'll miss of my ends.
_Jam_.
Were't not in Court, I would beat that fat of thine, rais'd by the food Snatch'd from poor Clyents mouths, 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.
_Octa_.
'Save your Lordship.
_Asc_.
My humble service.
_Jam_.
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.
_Jam_.
He will soon resolve us.
_Offi_.
Make way there for the Judge.
_Jam_.
How? my kind Brother? Nay then 'tis rank: there is some villany towards.
_Assist_.
This Sessions purchas'd at your suit, _Don Henrique_, Hath brought us hither, to hear and determine Of what you can prefer.
_Hen_.
I do 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, spoils the Cause, Though ne're so good, and honest.
_Bar_.
If I stood here, To plead in the defence of an ill man, (Most equal Judge) or to accuse the innocent (To both which, I profess my self a stranger) It would be requisite I should deck my Language With Tropes and Figures, and all flourishes That grace a Rhetorician, 'tis confess'd Adulterate Metals need the Gold-smiths Art, To set 'em off; what in it self is perfect Contemns a borrowed gloss: 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, thinks 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.
_Jam_.
To what tends this?
_Bar_.
In his young years (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 remain, of excellent form, He look'd on her, and lov'd her.
_Jac_.
You good Angels, What an impudence is this?
_Bar_.
And us'd all means Of Service, Courtship, Presents, that might win her To be at his devotion: but in vain; Her Maiden Fort, impregnable held out, Until he promis'd Marriage; and before These Witnesses a solemn Contract pass'd To take her as his Wife.
_Assist_.
Give them their Oath.
_Jam_.
They are incompetent Witnesses, his own Creatures, And will swear any thing for half a Royal.
_Offi_.
Silence.
_Assist_.
Proceed.
_Bar_.
Upon this strong assurance He did enjoy his wishes to the full, Which satisfied, and then with eyes of Judgement (Hood-wink'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 disanul His former Contract, Marrying openly The Lady _Violante_.
_Jac_.