The Spanish Curate: A Comedy

Some crafty Fool has found ye:This 'tis, Sir, to teach ye to be too busie,To covet all the gains, and all the rumours,To have a stirring Oare in all mens actions.

Lop.

We did this, but to vex your fine officiousness.

Bar.

Good yield ye, and good thank ye: I am fooled, Gentlemen;The Lawyer is an Ass, I do confess it,A weak dull shallow Ass: good even to your Worships:Vicar, remember Vicar, Rascal, remember,Thou notable rich Rascal.

Die.

I do remember, Sir,'Pray ye stay a little, I have ev'n two LegaciesTo make your mouth up, Sir.

Bar.

Remember Varlets,Quake and remember, Rogues;I have brine for your Buttocks.

[Exit.

Lop.

Oh how he frets, and fumes now like a Dunghil!

Die.

His gall contains fine stuff now to make poysons,Rare damned stuff.

Ars.

Let's after him, and still vex him,And take my Friend off: by this time he has prosper'd,He cannot lose this dear time: 'tis impossible.

Mil.

Well Diego, thou hast done.

Lop.

Hast done it daintily.

Mil.

And shalt be as well paid, Boy—

Ars.

Go, let's crucifie him.

[Exeunt.

SCENA VI

Enter Amaranta, Leandro.

Lean.

I have told ye all my story, and how desperately.

Ama.

I do believe: let's walk on, time is pretious,Not to be spent in words, here no more wooing,The open Air's an enemy to Lovers,Do as I tell ye.

Lean.

I'le do any thing,I am so over-[joy'd], I'le fly to serve ye.

Am.

Take your joy moderately, as it is ministred,And as the cause invites: that man's a foolThat at the sight o'th' Bond, dances and leaps,Then is the true joy, when the mony comes.

Lean.

You cannot now deny me.

Ama.

Nay, you know not,Women have crotchets, and strange fits.

Lean.

You shall not.

Ama.

Hold ye to that and swear it confidently,Then I shall make a scruple to deny ye:'Pray ye let's step in, and see a friend of mine,The weather's sharp: we'll stay but half an hour,We may be miss'd else: a private fine house 'tis, Sir,And we may find many good welcomes.

Lean.

Do Lady,Do happy Lady.

Ama.

All your mind's of doing,You must be modester.

Lean.

I will be any thing.

[Exeunt.

SCENA VII

Enter Bartolus.

Bar.

Open the doors, and give me room to chafe inMine own room, and my liberty: why Maid there,Open I say, and do not anger me,I am subject to much fury: when, ye Dish-clout?When do ye come? asleep ye lazie Hell-hound?Nothing intended, but your ease, and eating?No body here? why Wife, why Wife? why Jewel?No tongue to answer me? pre'thee, good Pupil,Dispense a little with thy careful study,And step to th' door, and let me in; nor he neither?Ha! not at's study? nor asleep? nor no body?I'le make ye hear: the house of ignorance,No sound inhabits here: I have a Key yetThat commands all: I fear I am Metamorphiz'd.

Enter Lopez, Arsenio, Milanes, Diego.

Lop.

He keeps his fury still, and may do mischief.

Mil.

He shall be hang'd first, we'll be sticklers there, boys.

Die.

The hundred thousand Dreams now, that possess himOf jealousie, and of revenge, and frailtie,Of drawing Bills against us, and Petitions.

Lop.

And casting what his credit shall recover.

Mil.

Let him cast till his Maw come up, we care not.You shall be still secured. [A great noise within.

Die.

We'll pay him home then;Hark what a noise he keeps within!

Lop.

CertainH'as set his Chimneys o' fire, or the Devil roars there.

Die.

The Codixes o'th' Law are broke loose, Gentlemen.

Ars.

He's fighting sure.

Die.

I'le tell ye that immediately—

[Exit.

Mil.

Or doing some strange out-rage on himself.

Ars.

Hang him, he dares not be so valiant.

Enter Diego.

Die.

There's no body at home, and he chafes like a Lyon,And stinks withal. [Noise still.

Lop.

No body?

Die.

Not a Creature,Nothing within, but he and his Law-tempest,The Ladles, Dishes, Kettles, how they flie all!And how the Glasses through the Rooms!

Enter Bartolus.

Ars.

My friend sureHas got her out, and now he has made an end on't.

Lop.

See where the Sea comes? how it foams, and brustles?The great Leviathan o'th' Law, how it tumbles?

Bar.

Made every way an Ass? abus'd on all sides?And from all quarters, people come to laugh at me?Rise like a Comet, to be wonder'd at?A horrid Comet, for Boys tongues, and Ballads?I will run from my wits.

Enter Amaranta, Leandro.

Ars.

Do, do, good Lawyer,And from thy mony too, then thou wilt be quiet.

Mil.

Here she comes home: now mark the salutations;How like an Ass my friend goes?

Ars.

She has pull'd his ears down.

Bar.

Now, what sweet voyage? to what Garden, Lady?Or to what Cousins house?

Ama.

Is this my welcome?I cannot go to Church, but thus I am scandal'd,Use no devotion for my soul, but Gentlemen—

Bar.

To Church?

Amar.

Yes, and ye keep sweet youths to wait upon me,Sweet bred-up youths, to be a credit to me.There's your delight again, pray take him to ye,He never comes near me more to debase me.

Bar.

How's this? how's this? good wife, how, has he wrong'd ye?

Ama.

I was fain to drive him like a sheep before me,I blush to think how people fleer'd, and scorn'd me.Others have handsome men, that know behaviour,Place, and observance: this silly thing knows nothing,Cannot tell ten; let every Rascal justle me,And still I push'd him on as he had been coming.

Bar.

Ha! did ye push him on? is he so stupid?

Ama.

When others were attentive to the Priest,Good devout Gentleman, then fell he fast,Fast, sound asleep: then first began the Bag-pipes,The several stops on's nose made a rare musick,A rare and loud, and those plaid many an Anthem.Put out of that, he fell straight into dreaming.

Ars.

As cunning, as she is sweet; I like this carriage.

Bar.

What did he then?

Ama.

Why then he talked in his Sleep too,Nay, I'le divulge your moral vertues (sheeps-face)And talk'd aloud, that every ear was fixt to him:Did not I suffer (do you think) in this time?Talk of your bawling Law, of appellationsOf Declarations, and Excommunications:Warrants, and Executions: and such DevilsThat drove all the Gentlemen out o'th' Church, by hurryes,With execrable oaths, they would never come there again.Thus am I served and man'd.

Lean.

I pray ye forgive me,I must confess I am not fit to wait upon ye:Alas, I was brought up—

Ama.

To be an Asse,A Lawyers Asse, to carry Books, and Buckrams.

Bar.

But what did you at Church?

Lop.

At Church, did you ask her?Do you hear Gentlemen, do you mark that question?Because you are half an Heretick your self, Sir,Would ye breed her too? this shall to the Inquisition,A pious Gentlewoman reproved for praying?I'le see this filed, and you shall hear further, Sir.

Ars.

Ye have an ill heart.

Lop.

It shall be found out, Gentlemen,There be those youths will search it.

Die.

You are warm Signiour,But a Faggot will warm ye better: we are witnesses.

Lop.

Enough to hang him, do not doubt.

Mil.

Nay certain,I do believe h'as rather no Religion.

Lop.

That must be known too, because she goes to Church, Sir?O monstrum infirme ingens!

Die.

Let him go on, Sir,His wealth will build a Nunnery, a fair one,And this good Lady, when he is hang'd and rotten,May there be Abbess.

Bar.

You are cozen'd, honest Gentlemen,I do not forbid the use but the form, mark me.

Lop.

Form? what do you make of form?

Bar.

They will undo me,Swear, as I oft have done, and so betray me;I must make fair way, and hereafter, Wife,You are welcome home, and henceforth take your pleasure,Go when ye shall think fit, I will not hinder ye,My eyes are open now, and I see my errour,My shame, as great as that, but I must hide it.The whole conveyance now I smell, but Basta,Another time must serve: you see us friends, nowHeartily friends, and no more chiding, Gentlemen,I have been too foolish, I confess, no more words,No more, sweet Wife.

Ama.

You know my easie nature.

Bar.

Go get ye in: you see she has been angry:Forbear her sight a while and time will pacify;And learn to be more bold.

Lean.

I would I could,I will do all I am able.

[Exit.

Bar.

Do Leandro,We will not part, but friends of all hands.

Lop.

Well said,Now ye are reasonable, we can look on ye.

Bar.

Ye have jerkt me: but for all that I forgive ye,Forgive ye heartily, and do invite yeTo morrow to a Breakfast, I make but seldom,But now we will be merry.

Ars.

Now ye are friendly,Your doggedness and niggardize flung from ye.And now we will come to ye.

Bar.

Give me your hands, all;You shall be welcome heartily.

Lop.

We will be,For we'll eat hard.

Bar.

The harder, the more welcome,And till the morning farewell; I have business.

[Exit.

Mil.

Farewel good bountiful Bartolus, 'tis a brave wench,A suddain witty thief, and worth all service:Go we'll all go, and crucifie the Lawyer.

Die.

I'le clap four tire of teeth into my mouth moreBut I will grind his substance.

Ars.

Well Leandro,Thou hast had a strange Voyage, but I hopeThou rid'st now in safe harbour.

Mil.

Let's go drink, Friends,And laugh aloud at all our merry may-games.

Lop.

A match, a match, 'twill whet our stomachs better.

[Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima

Enter Violante and Servant.

Ser.

Madam, he's come. [Chair and stools out.

Viol.

'Tis well, how did he look,When he knew from whom you were sent? was he not startled?Or confident? or fearful?

Ser.

As appear'dLike one that knew his fortune at the worst,And car'd not what could follow.

Viol.

'Tis the better,Reach me a Chair: so, bring him in, be carefulThat none disturb us: I will try his temper,And if I find him apt for my employments,

Enter Jamie, Servant.

I'le work him to my ends; if not, I shallFind other Engines.

Ser.

There's my Lady.

Viol.

Leave us.

Jam.

You sent for me?

Viol.

I did, and do's the favour,Your present state considered and my power,Deserve no greater Ceremony?

Jam.

Ceremonie?I use to pay that where I owe a duty,Not to my Brothers wife: I cannot fawn,If you expect it from me, you are cozen'd,And so farewel.

Viol.

He bears up still; I like it.Pray you a word.

Jam.

Yes, I will give you hearingOn equal terms, and sit by you as a friend,But not stand as a Sutor: Now your pleasure?

Viol.

You are very bold.

Jam.

'Tis fit: since you are proud,I was not made to feed that foolish humour,With flattery and observance.

Viol.

Yet, with your favour,A little form joyn'd with respect to her,That can add to your wants, or free you from 'em(Nay raise you to a fate, beyond your hopes)Might well become your wisdom.

Jam.

It would ratherWrite me a Fool, should I but only thinkThat any good to me could flow from you,Whom for so many years I have found and prov'dMy greatest Enemy: I am still the same,My wants have not transform'd me: I dare tell you,To your new cerus'd face, what I have spokenFreely behind your back, what I think of you,You are the proudest thing, and have the leastReason to be so that I ever read of.In stature you are a Giantess: and your TailorTakes measure of you with a Jacobs Staff,Or he can never reach you, this by the wayFor your large size: now, in a word or two,To treat of your Complexion were decorum:You are so far from fair, I doubt your MotherWas too familiar with the Moor that serv'd her,Your Limbs and Features I pass briefly over,As things not worth description; and come roundlyTo your Soul, if you have any; for 'tis doubtful.

Viol.

I laugh at this, proceed.

Jam.

This Soul I speak of,Or rather Salt to keep this heap of fleshFrom being a walking stench, like a large Inn,Stands open for the entertainment ofAll impious practices: but there's no CornerAn honest thought can take up: and as it were notSufficient in your self to comprehendAll wicked plots, you have taught the Fool, my Brother,By your contagion, almost to put offThe nature of the man, and turn'd him Devil,Because he should be like you, and I hopeWill march to Hell together: I have spoken,And if the Limning you in your true ColoursCan make the Painter gracious, I stand readyFor my reward, or if my words distaste you,I weigh it not, for though your Grooms were readyTo cut my Throat for't, be assur'd I cannotUse other Language.

Viol.

You think you have said now,Like a brave fellow: in this Womans WarYou ever have been train'd: spoke big, but suffer'dLike a tame Ass; and when most spur'd and gall'dWere never Master of the Spleen or Spirit,That could raise up the anger of a man,And force it into action.

Jam.

Yes, vile Creature,Wer't thou a subject worthy of my Sword,Or that thy death, this moment, could call homeMy banish'd hopes, thou now wer't dead; dead, woman;But being as thou art, it is sufficientI scorn thee, and contemn thee.

Viol.

This shews nobly,I must confess it: I am taken with it,For had you kneel'd and whin'd and shew'd a baseAnd low dejected mind, I had despis'd you.This bravery (in your adverse fortune) conquersAnd do's command me, and upon the suddainI feel a kind of pity, growing in me,For your misfortunes, pity some say's the Parent,Of future love, and I repent my partSo far in what you have suffered, that I could(But you are cold) do something to repairWhat your base Brother (such Jamie I think him)Hath brought to ruine.

Jam.

Ha?

Viol.

Be not amaz'd,Our injuries are equal in his Bastard,You are familiar with what I groan for,And though the name of Husband holds a tyeBeyond a Brother, I, a poor weak Woman,Am sensible, and tender of a wrong,And to revenge it would break through all lets,That durst oppose me.

Jam.

Is it possible?

Viol.

By this kiss: start not: thus much, as a strangerYou may take from me; but, if you were pleas'd,I should select you as a bosom friend,I would print 'em thus, and thus.

Jam.

Keep off.

Viol.

Come near,Near into the Cabinet of my Counsels:Simplicity and patience dwell with Fools,And let them bear those burthens, which wise menBoldly shake off; be mine and joyn with me,And when that I have rais'd you to a fortune,(Do not deny your self the happy means)You'll look on me with more judicious eyesAnd swear I am most fair.

Jam.

What would this Woman?The purpose of these words? speak not in riddles,And when I understand, what you would counsel,My answer shall be suddain.

Viol.

Thus then Jamie,The objects of our fury are the same,For young Ascanio, whom you Snake-like hug'd(Frozen with wants to death) in your warm bosom,Lives to supplant you in your certain hopes,And kills in me all comfort.

Jam.

Now 'tis plain,I apprehend you: and were he remov'd—

Viol.

You, once again, were the undoubted heir.

Jam.

'Tis not to be deny'd; I was ice before,But now ye have fir'd me.—

Viol.

I'le add fuel to it,And by a nearer cut, do you but steerAs I direct you, wee'l bring our Bark intoThe Port of happiness.

Jam.

How?

Viol.

By Henriques death:But you'l say he's your Brother; in great fortunes(Which are epitomes of States and Kingdoms)The politick brook no Rivals.

Jam.

Excellent!For sure I think out of a scrupulous fear,To feed in expectation, when I may(Dispensing but a little with my conscience)Come into full possession, would not argueOne that desir'd to thrive.

Viol.

Now you speak likeA man that knows the World.

Jam.

I needs must learnThat have so good a Tutress: and what think you,(Don Henrique and Ascanio cut off)That none may live, that shall desire to trace usIn our black paths, if that OctavioHis foster Father, and the sad Jacinta,(Faith pitie her, and free her from her Sorrows)Should fall companions with 'em? When we are redWith murther, let us often bath in blood,The colour will be scarlet.

Viol.

And that's glorious,And will protect the fact.

Jam.

Suppose this done:(If undiscovered) we may get for mony,(As that you know buyes any thing in Rome)A dispensation.

Viol.

And be married?

Jam.

True.Or if it be known, truss up our Gold and Jewels,And fly to some free State, and there with scorn—

Viol.

Laugh at the laws of Spain.'Twere admirable.

Jam.

We shall beget rare children. I am rapt withThe meer imagination.—

Viol.

Shall it be done?

Jam.

Shall? 'tis too tedious: furnish me with meansTo hire the instruments, and to your selfSay it is done already: I will shew you,E're the Sun set, how much you have wrought upon me,Your province is only to use some means,To send my Brother to the Grove that's neighbourTo the west Port of th' City; leave the restTo my own practice; I have talk'd too long,But now will doe: this kiss, with my Confession,To work a fell revenge: a man's a fool,If not instructed in a Womans School.

[Exeunt.

SCENA II

Enter Bartolus, Algazeirs, and a Paratour.

The Table set out and stools.

Bar.

You are well enough disguiz'd, furnish the Table,Make no shew what ye are, till I discover:Not a soul knows ye here: be quick and diligent,These youths I have invited to a Breakfast,But what the Sawce will be, I am of opinionI shall take off the edges of their Appetites,And grease their gums for eating heartilyThis month or two, they have plaid their prizes with me,And with their several flurts they have lighted dangerously,But sure I shall be quit: I hear 'em coming.Go off and wait the bringing in your service,And do it handsomely: you know where to have it.

Enter Milanes, Arsenio, Lopez, Diego.

Welcom i' Faith.

Ars.

That's well said, honest Lawyer.

Lop.

Said like a neighbour.

Bar.

Welcom all: all over,And let's be merry.

Mil.

To that end we came Sir,An hour of freedome's worth an age of juglings.

Die.

I am come too Sir, to specifie my StomachA poor reteiner to your worships bountie.

Bar.

And thou shalt have it fill'd my merry Diego,My liberal, and my bonny bounteous Diego,Even fill'd till it groan again.

Die.

Let it have fair play,And if it founder then.—

Bar.

I'le tell ye neighbours,Though I were angry yesterday with ye all,And very angry, for methought ye bob'd me.

Lop.

No, no, by no means.

Bar.

No, when I consideredIt was a jest, and carried off so quaintly,It made me merry: very merry, Gentlemen,I do confess I could not sleep to think on't,The mirth so tickled me, I could not slumber.

Lop.

Good mirth do's work so: honest mirth,Now, should we have meant in earnest—

Bar.

You say true neighbour.

Lop.

It might have bred such a distast and sowrness,Such fond imaginations in your Brains, Sir,For things thrust home in earnest.—

Bar.

Very certain,But I know ye all for merry waggs, and ere longYou shall know me too in another fashion,Though y'are pamper'd, ye shall bear part o'th' burthen.

Enter Amaranta, and Leandro.

Come wife; Come bid 'em welcom; Come my Jewel:And Pupil, you shall come too; ne're hang backward,Come, come the woman's pleas'd, her anger's over,Come, be not bashfull.

Am.

What do's he prepare here?Sure there's no meat i'th' house, at least not drest,Do's he mean to mock 'em? or some new bred crotchetCome o're his brains; I do not like his kindness:But silence best becomes me: if he mean foul play,Sure they are enough to right themselves, and let 'em,I'le sit by, so they beat him not to powder.

Bar.

Bring in the meat there, ha? Sit down dear neighbour,A little meat needs little Complement,Sit down I say.

Am.

What do you mean by this Sir?

Bar.

Convey away their weapons handsomely.

Am.

You know there's none i'th' house to answer ye,But the poor Girle; you know there's no meat neither.

Bar.

Peace and be quiet; I shall make you smoak else,There's men and meat enough, set it down formally.

Enter Algazeirs, with dishes.

Am.

I fear some lewd trick, yet I dare not speak on't.

Bar.

I have no dainties for ye Gentlemen,Nor loads of meat, to make the room smell of 'em.Only a dish to every man I have dedicated,And if I have pleas'd his appetite.

Lop.

O, a Capon,A Bird of grace, and be thy will, I honour it.

Die.

For me some fortie pound of lovely Beef,Plac'd in a mediterranean sea of Brewis.

Bar.

Fall to, fall to, that we may drink and laugh after,Wait diligently knaves.

Mil.

What rare bit's this?An execution! bless me!

Bar.

Nay take it to ye,There's no avoiding it, 'tis somewhat tough Sir,But a good stomach will endure it easily,The sum is but a thousand duckets Sir.

Ars.

A Capias from my Surgeon, and my Silk-man!

Bar.

Your carefull makers, but they have mar'd your diet.Stir not, your Swords are gone: there's no avoiding me,And these are Algazeirs, do you hear that passing bell?

Lop.

A strong Citation, bless me!

Bar.

Out with your Beads, Curate,The Devil's in your dish: bell, book, and Candle.

Lop.

A warrant to appear before the Judges!I must needs rise, and turn to th' wall.

Bar.

Ye need not,Your fear I hope will make ye find your Breeches.

All.

We are betrai'd.

Bar.

Invited do not wrong me,Fall to, good Guests, you have diligent men about ye,Ye shall want nothing that may persecute ye,These will not see ye start; Have I now found ye?Have I requited ye? You fool'd the Lawyer,And thought it meritorious to abuse him,A thick ram-headed knave: you rid, you spur'd him,And glorified your wits, the more ye wronged him;Within this hour ye shall have all your Creditours,A second dish of new debts, come upon ye,And new invitements to the whip, Don Diego,And Excommunications for the learned Curate,A Masque of all your furies shall dance to ye.

Ars.

You dare not use us thus?

Bar.

You shall be bob'd, Gentlemen,Stir, and as I have a life, ye goe to prison,To prison, without pitie instantly,Before ye speak another word to prison.I have a better Guard without, that waits;Do you see this man, Don Curate? 'tis a ParatourThat comes to tell ye a delightfull storyOf an old whore ye have, and then to teach yeWhat is the penaltie; Laugh at me now Sir,What Legacie would ye bequeath me now,(And pay it on the nail?) to fly my fury?

Lop.

O gentle Sir.

Bar.

Do'st thou hope I will be gentle,Thou foolish unconsiderate Curate?

Lop.

Let me goe Sir.

Bar.

I'le see thee hang first.

Lop.

And as I am a true Vicar,Hark in your ear, hark softly—

Bar.

No, no bribery.I'le have my swindge upon thee; Sirra? Rascal?You Lenten Chaps, you that lay sick, and mockt me,Mockt me abominably, abused me lewdly,I'le make thee sick at heart, before I leave thee,And groan, and dye indeed, and be worth nothing,Not worth a blessing, nor a Bell to knell for thee,A sheet to cover thee, but that thou Stealest,Stealest from the Merchant, and the Ring he was buried withStealest from his Grave, do you smell me now?

Die.

Have mercy on me!

Bar.

No Psalm of mercy shall hold me from hanging thee.How do ye like your Breakfast? 'tis but short, Gentlemen,But sweet and healthfull; Your punishment, and yours, Sir,For some near reasons that concern my Credit,I will take to my self.

Am.

Doe Sir, and spare not:I have been too good a wife, and too obedient,But since ye dare provoke me to be foolish—

Lea.

She has, yes, and too worthie of your usage,Before the world I justifie her goodness,And turn that man, that dares but taint her vertues,To my Swords point; that lying man, that base man,Turn him, but face to face, that I may know him.

Bar.

What have I here?

Lea.

A Gentleman, a free man,One that made trial of this Ladies constancie,And found it strong as fate; leave off your fooling,For if you follow this course, you will be Chronicled.

Enter Jamy and Assistant.

For a devil, whilst a Saint she is mentioned,You know my name indeed; I am now no Lawyer.

Die.

Some comfort now, I hope, or else would I were hanged up.And yet the Judge, he makes me sweat.

Bar.

What news now?

Jam.

I will justifie upon my life and creditWhat you have heard, for truth, and will make proof of.

Assist.

I will be ready at the appointed hour there,And so I leave ye.

Bar.

Stay I beseech your worship,And do but hear me.

Jam.

Good Sir, intend this business,And let this bawling fool, no more words lawyer,And no more angers, for I guess your reasons,This Gentleman, I'le justifie in all places,And that fair Ladies worth; let who dare cross it.The Plot was cast by me, to make thee jealous,But not to wrong your wife, she is fair and vertuous.

Die.