The Little French Lawyer: A Comedy
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Actus Tertius. Scena Prima
Enter Champernel, Lamira, Beaupre, Verdone, Charlotte.
Beaup. We'l venture on him.Cham. Out of my doors I charge thee, see me no more. Lami. Your Nephew?Cham. I disclaim him,He has no part in me, nor in my blood,My Brother that kept fortune bound, and leftConquest hereditary to his IssueCould not beget a coward.Verd. I fought, Sir,Like a good fellow, and a Souldier too,But men are men, and cannot make their fates:Ascribe you to my Father what you please,I am born to suffer.Cham. All disgraces wretch.Lam. Good Sir be patient.Cham. Was there no tree,(For to fall by a noble enemies sword,A Coward is unworthy) nor no River,To force thy life out backward or to drown it,But that thou must survive thy i[n]famie?And kill me with the sight of one I hate,And gladly would forget?Beaup. Sir, his misfortuneDeserves not this reproof.Cham. In your opinion,'Tis fit you two should be of one belief,You are indeed fine gallants, and fight bravelyI'th' City with your tongues, but in the fieldHave neither spirit to dare nor power to do,Your swords are all lead there.Beaup. I know no duty,(How ever you may wreak your spleen on him,)That bindes me to endure this.Cham. From DinantYou'l suffer more; that ever cursed I,Should give my honour up, to the defenceOf such a thing as he is, or my LadyThat is all Innocent, for whom a dove wouldAssume the courage of a daring Eagle,Repose her confidence in one that canNo better guard her. In contempt of youI love Dinant, mine enemy, nay admire him,His valour claims it from me, and with justice,He that could fight thus, in a cause not honest,His sword edg'd with defence of right and honour,Would pierce as deep as lightning, with that speed too,And kill as deadly.Verd. You are as far from justiceIn him you praise, as equitie in the censureYou load me with.Beaup. Dinant? he durst not meet us.Lam. How? durst not, Brother?Beaup. Durst not, I repeat it.Verd. Nor was it Cleremont's valour that disarm'd us,I had the better of him; for Dinant,If that might make my peace with you, I dareWrite him a Coward upon every post,And with the hazard of my life defend it.Lam. If 'twere laid at the stake you'd lose it, Nephew.Cham. Came he not, say you?Verd. No, but in his room,There was a Devil, hir'd from some MagicianI'th' shape of an Atturney.Beau. 'Twas he did it.Verd. And his the honour.Beau. I could wish Dinant—But what talk I of one that stept aside,And durst not come?Lam. I am such a friend to truth,I cannot hear this: why do you detractThus poorly (I should say to others basely)From one of such approv'd worth?Cham. Ha! how's this?Lam. From one so excellent in all that's noble,Whose only weakness is excess of courage?That knows no enemies, that he cannot master,But his affections, and in them, the worstHis love to me.Cham. To you?Lam. Yes, Sir, to me,I dare (for what is that which Innocence dares not)To you profess it: and he shun'd not the CombatFor fear or doubt of these: blush and repent,That you in thought e're did that wrong to valour.Beaup. Why, this is rare.Cham. 'Fore heaven, exceeding rare;Why modest Lady, you that sing such EncomiumsOf your first Suiter—Verd. How can ye convince usIn your reports?Lam. With what you cannot answer,'Twas my command that staid him.Cham. Your command?Lam. Mine, Sir, and had my will rank'd with my power,And his obedience, I could have sent himWith more ease, weaponless to you, and bound,Than have kept him back, so well he loves his honourBeyond his life.Cham. Better, and better still.Lam. I wrought with him in private to divert himFrom your assur'd destruction, had he met you.Cham. In private?Lam. Yes, and us'd all Arts, all CharmsOf one that knew her self the absolute MistrisOf all his faculties.Cham. Gave all rewards tooHis service could deserve; did not he takeThe measure of my sheets?Lam. Do not look yellow,I have cause to speak; frowns cannot fright me,By all my hopes, as I am spotless to you,If I rest once assur'd you do but doubt me,Or curb me of that freedom you once gave me—Cham. What then?Lam. I'le not alone abuse your bed, that's nothing,But to your more vexation, 'tis resolv'd on,I'le run away, and then try if DinantHave courage to defend me.Champ. Impudent!Verd. And on the sudden—Beau. How are ye transform'dFrom what you were?Lam. I was an innocent Virgin,And I can truly swear, a Wife as pureAs ever lay by Husband, and will dy so,Let me live unsuspected, I am no servant,Nor will be us'd like one: If you desireTo keep me constant as I would be, letTrust and belief in you beget and nurse it;Unnecessary jealousies make more whoresThan all baits else laid to entrap our frailties.Beau. There's no contesting with her, from a childOnce mov'd, she hardly was to be appeas'd,Yet I dare swear her honest.Cham. So I think too,On better judgement: I am no ItalianTo lock her up; nor would I be a Dutchman,To have my Wife, my soveraign, to command me:I'le try the gentler way, but if that fail,Believe it, Sir, there's nothing but extreamsWhich she must feel from me.Beau. That, as you please, Sir.Charl. You have won the breeches, Madam, look up sweetly,My Lord limps toward you.Lam. You will learn more manners.Charl. This is a fee, for counsel that's unask'd for.Cham. Come, I mistook thee sweet, prethee forgive me,I never will be jealous: e're I cherishSuch a mechanick humour, I'le be nothing;I'le say, Dinant is all that thou wouldst have him,Will that suffice?Lam. 'Tis well, Sir.Cham. Use thy freedomUncheck'd, and unobserv'd, if thou wilt have it,These shall forget their honour, I my wrongs.We'll all dote on him, hell be my rewardIf I dissemble.Lam. And that hell take meIf I affect him, he's a lustfull villain,(But yet no coward) and sollicites meTo my dishonour, that's indeed a quarrel,And truly mine, which I will so revenge,As it shall fright such as dare only thinkTo be adulterers.Cham. Use thine own waies,I give up all to thee.Beau. O women, women!When you are pleas'd you are the least of evils.Verd. I'le rime to't, but provokt, the worst of Devils. [Exeunt.Enter Monsieur Sampson, and three Clients.
Samp. I know Monsieur La-writ.1 Cly. Would he knew himself, Sir.Samp. He was a pretty Lawyer, a kind of pretty Lawyer,Of a kind of unable thing.2 Cly. A fine Lawyer, Sir,And would have firk'd you up a business,And out of this Court into that.Samp. Ye are too forwardNot so fine my friends, something he could have done,But short short.1 Cly. I know your worships favour,You are Nephew to the Judge, Sir.Samp. It may be so,And something may be done, without trotting i'th' dirt, friends;It may be I can take him in his Chamber,And have an hours talk, it may be so,And tell him that in's ear; there are such courtesies;I will not say, I can.3 Cly. We know you can, Sir.Sam. Peradventure I, peradventure no: but where's La-writ?Where's your sufficient Lawyer?1 Cly. He's blown up, Sir.2 Cly. Run mad and quarrels with the Dog he meets;He is no Lawyer of this world now.Sam. Your reason?Is he defunct? is he dead?2 Cly. No he's not dead yet, Sir;But I would be loth to take a lease on's life for two hours:Alas, he is possest Sir, with the spirit of fightingAnd quarrels with all people; but how he came to it— Samp. If he fight well and like a Gentleman,The man may fight, for 'tis a lawfull calling.Look you my friends, I am a civil Gentleman,And my Lord my Uncle loves me.3 Cly. We all know it, Sir.Sam. I think he does, Sir, I have business too, much business,Turn you some forty or fifty Causes in a week;Yet when I get an hour of vacancie,I can fight too my friends, a little does well,I would be loth to learn to fight.1 Cly. But and't please you Sir,His fighting has neglected all our business,We are undone, our causes cast away, Sir,His not appearance.Sam. There he fought too long,A little and fight well, he fought too long indeed friends;But ne'r the less things must be as they may,And there be wayes—1 Cly. We know, Sir, if you please—Sam. Something I'le do: goe rally up your Causes.Enter La-writ, and a Gentleman, at the door.
2 Cly. Now you may behold Sir,And be a witness, whether we lie or no.La-writ. I'le meet you at the Ordinary, sweet Gentlemen,And if there be a wench or two—Gen. We'll have 'em.La-writ. No handling any Duells before I come,We'll have no going else, I hate a coward.Gent. There shall be nothing done.La-writ. Make all the quarrelsYou can devise before I come, and let's all fight,There is no sport else.Gent. We'll see what may be done, Sir.1 Cly. Ha? Monsieur La-writ.La-writ. Baffled in way of business,My causes cast away, Judgement against us?Why there it goes.2 Cly. What shall we do the whilst Sir?La-wr. Breed new dissentions, goe hang your selves'Tis all one to me; I have a new trade of living.1 Cli. Do you hear what he saies Sir?Sam. The Gentleman speaks finely.La-wr. Will any of you fight? Fighting's my occupationIf you find your selves aggriev'd.Sam. A compleat Gentleman.La-writ. Avant thou buckram budget of petitions,Thou spittle of lame causes; I lament for thee,And till revenge be taken—Sam. 'Tis most excellent.La-wr. There, every man chuse his paper, and his place.I'le answer ye all, I will neglect no mans businessBut he shall have satisfaction like a Gentleman,The Judge may do and not do, he's but a Monsieur.Sam. You have nothing of mine in your bag, Sir.La-writ. I know not Sir,But you may put any thing in, any fighting thing.Sam. It is sufficient, you may hear hereafter.La-writ. I rest your servant Sir.Sam. No more words GentlemenBut follow me, no more words as you love me,The Gentleman's a noble Gentleman.I shall do what I can, and then—Cli. We thank you Sir. [Ex. Sam. and Clients.Sam. Not a word to disturb him, he's a Gentleman.La-writ. No cause go o' my side? the judge cast all?And because I was honourably employed in action,And not appear'd, pronounce? 'tis very well,'Tis well faith, 'tis well, Judge.Enter Cleremont.
Cler. Who have we here?My little furious Lawyer?La-writ. I say 'tis well,But mark the end.Cler. How he is metamorphos'd!Nothing of Lawyer left, not a bit of buckram,No solliciting face now,This is no simple conversion.Your servant Sir, and Friend. La-writ. You come in time, Sir,Cler. The happier man, to be at your command then.La-writ. You may wonder to see me thus; but that's all one,Time shall declare; 'tis true I was a Lawyer,But I have mew'd that coat, I hate a Lawyer,I talk'd much in the Court, now I hate talking,I did you the office of a man.Cler. I must confess it.La-w. And budg'd not, no I budg'd not.Cler. No, you did not.La-w. There's it then, one good turn requires another.Cler. Most willing Sir, I am ready at your service.La-w. There, read, and understand, and then deliver it.Cler. This is a Challenge, Sir,La-w. 'Tis very like, Sir,I seldom now write Sonnets.Cler. O admirantis,To Monsieur Vertaign, the President.La-w. I chuse no Fool, Sir.Cler. Why, he's no Sword-man, Sir.La-w. Let him learn, let him learn,Time, that trains Chickens up, will teach him quickly.Cler. Why, he's a Judge, an Old Man.La-w. Never too OldTo be a Gentleman; and he that is a JudgeCan judge best what belongs to wounded honour.There are my griefs, he has cast away my causes,In which he has bowed my reputation.And therefore Judge, or no Judge.Cler. 'Pray be rul'd Sir,This is the maddest thing—La-w. You will not carry it.Cler. I do not tell you so, but if you may be perswaded.La-w. You know how you us'd me when I would not fight,Do you remember, Gentleman?Cler. The Devil's in him.La-w. I see it in your Eyes, that you dare do it,You have a carrying face, and you shall carry it.Cler. The least is Banishment.La-w. Be banish'd then;'Tis a friends part, we'll meet in Africa,Or any part of the Earth.Cler. Say he will not fight.La-w. I know then what to say, take you no care, Sir,Cler. Well, I will carry it, and deliver it,And to morrow morning meet you in the Louver,Till when, my service.La-w. A Judge, or no Judge, no Judge. [Exit La-writ.Cler. This is the prettiest Rogue that e'r I read of,None to provoke to th' field, but the old President;What face shall I put on? if I come in earnest,I am sure to wear a pair of Bracelets;This may make some sport yet, I will deliver it,Here comes the President.Enter Vertaign, with two Gentlemen.
Vert. I shall find time, Gentlemen,To do your causes good, is not that Cleremont?1 Gent. 'Tis he my Lord.Vert. Why does he smile upon me?Am I become ridiculous? has your fortune, Sir,Upon my Son, made you contemn his Father?The glory of a Gentleman is fair bearing.Cler. Mistake me not my Lord, you shall not find that,I come with no blown Spirit to abuse you,I know your place and honour due unto it,The reverence to your silver Age and Vertue.Vert. Your face is merry still.Cler. So is my business,And I beseech your honour mistake me not,I have brought you from a wild or rather Mad-manAs mad a piece of—you were wont to love mirthIn your young days, I have known your Honour woo it,This may be made no little one, 'tis a Challenge, Sir,Nay, start not, I beseech you, it means you no harm,Nor any Man of Honour, or Understanding,'Tis to steal from your serious hours a little laughter;I am bold to bring it to your Lordship.Vert. 'Tis to me indeed:Do they take me for a Sword-man at these years? Cler. 'Tis only worth your Honours Mirth, that's all Sir,'Thad been in me else a sawcy rudeness.Vert. From one La-writ, a very punctual Challenge.Cler. But if your Lordship mark it, no great matter.Vert. I have known such a wrangling Advocate,Such a little figent thing; Oh I remember him,A notable talking Knave, now out upon him,Has challeng'd me downright, defied me mortallyI do remember too, I cast his Causes.Cler. Why, there's the quarrel, Sir, the mortal quarrel.Vert. Why, what a Knave is this? as y'are a Gentleman,Is there no further purpose but meer mirth?What a bold Man of War! he invites me roundly.Cler. If there should be, I were no Gentleman,Nor worthy of the honour of my Kindred.And though I am sure your Lordship hates my Person,Which Time may bring again into your favour,Yet for the manners—Vert. I am satisfied,You see, Sir, I have out-liv'd those days of fighting,And therefore cannot do him the honour to beat him my self;But I have a Kinsman much of his ability,His Wit and Courage, for this call him Fool,One that will spit as senseless fire as this Fellow.Cler. And such a man to undertake, my Lord?Vert. Nay he's too forward; these two pitch Barrels together.Cler. Upon my soul, no harm.Vert. It makes me smile,Why, what a stinking smother will they utter!Yes, he shall undertake, Sir, as my Champion,Since you propound it mirth, I'll venture on it,And shall defend my cause, but as y'are honestSport not with bloud.Cler. Think not so basely, good Sir.Vert. A Squire shall wait upon you from my Kinsman,To morrow morning make you sport at full,You want no Subject; but no wounds.Cler. That's my care.Ver. And so good day. [Ex. Vertaign, and Gentlemen.Cler. Many unto your honour.This is a noble Fellow, of a sweet Spirit,Now must I think how to contrive this matter,For together they shall go.Enter Dinant.
Din. O Cleremont,I am glad I have found thee.Cler. I can tell thee rare things.Din. O, I can tell thee rarer,Dost thou love me?Cler. Love thee?Din. Dost thou love me dearly?Dar'st thou for my sake?Cler. Any thing that's honest.Din. Though it be dangerous?Cler. Pox o' dangerous.Din. Nay wondrous dangerous.Cler. Wilt thou break my heart?Din. Along with me then.Cler. I must part to morrow.Din. You shall, you shall, be faithful for this night,And thou hast made thy friend.Cler. Away, and talk not. [Exeunt.Enter Lamira, and Nurse.
Lam. O Nurse, welcome, where's Dinant?Nurse. He's at my back.'Tis the most liberal Gentleman, this GoldHe gave me for my pains, nor can I blame you,If you yield up the fort.Lam. How? yield it up?Nurse. I know not, he that loves, and gives so largely,And a young Lord to boot, or I am cozen'd,May enter every where.Lam. Thou'lt make me angry.Enter Dinant, and Cleremont.
Nur. Why, if you are, I hope here's one will please you,Look on him with my Eyes, good luck go with you:Were I young for your sake— Din. I thank thee, Nurse.Nur. I would be tractable, and as I am—Lam. Leave the room,So old, and so immodest! and be careful,Since whispers will 'wake sleeping jealousies,That none disturb my Lord. [Exit Nurse.Cler. Will you dispatch?Till you come to the matter be not rapt thus,Walk in, walk in, I am your scout for once,You owe me the like service.Din. And will pay it.Lam. As you respect our lives, speak not so loud.Cler. Why, do it in dumb shew then, I am silenc'd.Lam. Be not so hasty, Sir, the golden ApplesHad a fell Dragon for their Guard, your pleasuresAre to be attempted with Herculean danger,Or never to be gotten.Din. Speak the means.Lam. Thus briefly, my Lord sleeps now, and alas,Each Night, he only sleeps.Cler. Go, keep her stirring.Lam. Now if he 'wake, as sometimes he does,He only stretches out his hand and feels,Whether I am a bed, which being assur'd of,He sleeps again; but should he miss me, ValourCould not defend our lives.Din. What's to be done then?Lam. Servants have servile faiths, nor have I anyThat I dare trust; on noble CleremontWe safely may rely.Cler. What man can do,Command and boldly.Lam. Thus then in my place,You must lye with my Lord.Cler. With an old man?Two Beards together, that's preposterous.Lam. There is no other way, and though 'tis dangerous,He having servants within call, and arm'd too,Slaves fed to act all that his jealousieAnd rage commands them, yet a true friend should notCheck at the hazard of a life.Cler. I thank you,I love my friend, but know no reason whyTo hate my self; to be a kind of pander,You see I am willing,But to betray mine own throat you must pardon.Din. Then I am lost, and all my hopes defeated,Were I to hazard ten times more for you,You should find, Cleremont—Cler. You shall not outdo me,Fall what may fall, I'll do't.Din. But for his Beard—Lam. To cover that you shall have my night Linnen,And you dispos'd of, my Dinant and IWill have some private conference.Enter Champernel, privately.
Cler. Private doing,Or I'll not venture.Lam. That's as we agree. [Exeunt.Enter Nurse, and Charlotte, pass over the Stage with Pillows, Night cloaths, and such things.
Cham. What can this Woman do, preserving her honour?I have given her all the liberty that may be,I will not be far off though, nor I will not be jealous,Nor trust too much, I think she is vertuous,Yet when I hold her best, she's but a Woman,As full of frailty as of faith, a poor sleight Woman,And her best thoughts, but weak fortifications,There may be a Mine wrought: Well, let 'em work then,I shall meet with it, till the signs be monstrous,And stick upon my head, I will not believe it, [Stands private.She may be, and she may not, now to my observation.Enter Dinant, and Lamira.
Din. Why do you make me stay so? if you love me—Lam. You are too hot and violent.Din. Why do you shift thusFrom one Chamber to another? Lam. A little delay, Sir,Like fire, a little sprinkled o'r with waterMakes the desires burn clear, and ten times hotter.Din. Why do you speak so loud? I pray'e go in,Sweet Mistriss, I am mad, time steals away,And when we would enjoy—Lam. Now fie, fie, Servant,Like sensual Beasts shall we enjoy our pleasures?Din. 'Pray do not kiss me then.Lam. Why, that I will, and you shall find anon, servant.Din. Softly, for heavens sake, you know my friend's engag'd,A little now, now; will ye go in again?Lam. Ha, ha, ha, ha.Din. Why do you laugh so loud, Precious?Will you betray me; ha' my friends throat cut?Lam. Come, come, I'll kiss thee again.Cham. Will you so? you are liberal,If you do cozen me—Enter Nurse with Wine.
Din. What's this?Lam. Wine, Wine, a draught or two.Din. What does this Woman here?Lam. She shall not hinder you.Din. This might have been spar'd,'Tis but delay and time lost; pray send her softly off.Lam. Sit down, and mix your spirits with Wine,I will make you another Hercules.Din. I dare not drink;Fie, what delays you make! I dare not,I shall be drunk presently, and do strange things then.Lam. Not drink a cup with your Mistriss! O the pleasure.Din. Lady, why this? [Musick.Lam. We must have mirth to our Wine, Man.Din. Pl– o' the Musick.Champ. God-a-mercy Wench,If thou dost cuckold me I shall forgive thee.Din. The house will all rise now, this will disturb all.Did you do this?Lam. Peace, and sit quiet, fool,You love me, come, sit down and drink.Enter Cleremont above.
Cler. What a Devil ail you?How cold I sweat! a hogs pox stop your pipes, [Musick.The thing will 'wake; now, now, methinks I findHis Sword just gliding through my throat. What's that?A vengeance choak your pipes. Are you there, Lady?Stop, stop those Rascals; do you bring me hitherTo be cut into minced meat? why Dinant?Din. I cannot do withal;I have spoke, and spoke; I am betray'd and lost too.Cler. Do you hear me? do you understand me?'Plague dam your Whistles. [Musick ends.Lam. 'Twas but an over-sight, they have done, lye down.Cler. Would you had done too,You know notIn what a misery and fear I lye.You have a Lady in your arms.Din. I would have— [The Recorders again.Champ. I'll watch you Goodman Wou'd have.Cler. Remove for Heavens sake,And fall to that you come for.Lam. Lie you down,'Tis but an hours endurance now.Cler. I dare not, softly sweet Lady –heart?Lam. 'Tis nothing but your fear, he sleeps still soundly,Lie gently down.Cler. 'Pray make an end.Din. Come, Madam.Lam. These Chambers are too near. [Ex. Din. Lam.Cham. I shall be nearer;Well, go thy wayes, I'le trust thee through the world,Deal how thou wilt: that that I never feel,I'le never fear. Yet by the honour of a Souldier,I hold thee truly noble: How these things will look,And how their blood will curdle! Play on Children,You shall have pap anon. O thou grand Fool,That thou knew'st but thy fortune— [Musick done.Cler. Peace, good Madam,Stop her mouth, Dinant, it sleeps yet, 'pray be wary,Dispatch, I cannot endure this misery,I can hear nothing more; I'll say my prayers,And down again— [Whistle within.A thousand Alarms fall upon my quarters,Heaven send me off; when I lye keeping Courses.Pl– o' your fumbling, Dinant; how I shake!'Tis still again: would I were in the Indies. [Exit Cler.Enter Dinant, and Lamira: a light within.