Chapter 4

And in him,

Believe that we are rich.

Asc.

I am sure I am,

While I have power to comfort you, and serve you.

[Exeunt.

SCENA III.

EnterHenrique,andViolante.

Viol.

Is it my fault,Don Henrique, or my fate?

What's my offence? I came young to your bed,

I had a fruitfull Mother, and you met me

With equall ardour in yourMayof blood;

And why then am I barren?

Hen.

'Tis not in Man

To yield a reason for the will of Heaven,

Which is inscrutable.

Viol.

To what use serve

Full fortunes, and the meaner sort of blessings,

When that, which is the Crown of all our wishes,

The period of humane happiness,

One only Child that may possess what's ours,

Is cruelly deni'd us?

Hen.

'Tis the curse

Of great Estates to want those Pledges, which

The poor are happy in: They in a Cottage,

With joy, behold the Models of their youth,

And as their Root decaies, those budding Branches

Sprout forth and flourish, to renew their age;

But this is the beginning, not the end

Of misery to me, that 'gainst my will

(Since Heaven denies us Issue of our own)

Must leave the fruit of all my care and travel

To an unthankfull Brother that insults

On my Calamity.

Viol.

I will rather choose

A Bastard from the Hospital and adopt him,

And nourish him as mine own.

Hen.

Such an evasion

(MyViolante) is forbid to us;

Happy the Romane State, where it was lawfull,

(If our own Sons were vicious) to choose one

Out of a vertuous Stock, though of poor Parents,

And make him noble. But the laws ofSpain,

(Intending to preserve all ancient Houses)

Prevent such free elections; with this, my Brother's

Too well acquainted, and this makes him bold to

Reign o're me, as a Master.

Viol.

I will fire

The Portion I brought with me, e're he spend

A Royal of it: no Quirck left? no Quiddit

That may defeat him?

Hen.

Were I but confirmed,

That you would take the means I use with patience,

As I must practise it with my dishonour,

I could lay level with the earth his hopes

That soar above the clouds with expectation

To see me in my grave.

Viol. Effect but this,

And our revenge shall be to us a Son

That shall inherit for us.

Hen.

Do not repent

When 'tis too late.

Viol.

I fear not what may fall

He dispossess'd that does usurp on all.

[Exeunt.

EnterLeandro, (with a letter writ out) Milanes,andArsenio.

Mil.

Can any thing but wonder?

Lea.

Wonder on,

I am as ye see, and, what will follow, Gentlemen?

Ars.

Why dost thou put on this form? what can this do?

Thou lookest most sillily.

Mil.

Like a young Clerk,

A half pin'd-puppy that would write for a Royal.

Is this a commanding shape to win a beauty?

To what use, what occasion?

Lean.

Peace, ye are fools,

More silly than my out-side seems, ye are ignorant;

They that pretend to wonders must weave cunningly.

Ars.

What manner of access can this get? or if gotten

What credit in her eyes?

Lean.

Will ye but leave me?

Mil.

Me thinks a young man and a handsom Gentleman

(But sure thou art lunatick) me thinks a brave man

That would catch cunningly the beams of beauty,

And so distribute 'em unto his comfort,

Should like himself appear, young, high, and buxom,

And in the brightest form.

Lean.

Ye are cozen'd (Gentlemen)

Neither do I believe this, nor will follow it,

Thus as I am, I will begin my voyage.

When you love, lanch it out in silks and velvets,

I'le love in Serge, and will outgo your Sattins.

To get upon my great horse and appear

The sign of such a man, and trot my measures,

Or fiddle out whole frosty nights (my friends)

Under the window, while my teeth keep tune,

I hold no handsomness. Let me get in,

There trot and fiddle where I may have fair play.

Ars.

But how get in?

Lean.

Leave that to me, your patience,

I have some toyes here that I dare well trust to:

I have smelt a Vicar out, they call himLopez.

You are ne're the nearer now.

Mil.

We do confess it.

Lea.

Weak simple men, this Vicar to this Lawyer

Is the most inwardDamon.

Ars.

What can this do?

Mil.

We know the fellow, and he dwells there.

Lean. So.

Ars.

A poor, thin thief: he help? he? hang the Vicar,

Can reading of an ---- prefer thee?

Thou art dead-sick in love, and hee'l pray for thee.

Lean.

Have patience (Gentlemen) I say this Vicar,

This thing I say is all one with the CloseBartolus

(For so they call the Lawyer) or his nature

Which I have studied by relation:

And make no doubt I shall hit handsomly,

Will I work cunningly, and home: understand me.

EnterLopez,andDiego.

Next I pray leave me, leave me to my fortune

Difficilia pulchra, that's my Motto (Gentlemen)

I'le win this Diamond from the rock and wear her,

Or—

Mil.

Peace, the Vicar: send ye a full sail, Sir.

Ars.

There's your Confessor, but what shall be your penance?

Lean.

A fools head if I fail, and so forsake me.

You shall hear from me daily.

Mil.

We will be ready.

[ExeuntMil. Ars.

Lop.

Thin world indeed!

Lean.

I'le let him breath and mark him:

No man would think a stranger as I am

Should reap any great commodity from his pigbelly.

Lop.

Poor stirring for poor Vicars.

Diego. And poor Sextons.

Lop.

We pray and pray, but to no purpose,

Those that enjoy our lands, choak our Devotions.

Our poor thin stipends make us arrant dunces.

Diego.

If you live miserably, how shall we do (Master)

That are fed only with the sound of prayers?

We rise and ring the Bells to get good stomachs,

And must be fain to eat the ropes with reverence.

Lop.

When was there a Christning,Diego?

Diego.

Not this ten weeks:

Alas, they have forgot to get children (Master)

The Wars, the Seas, and usurie undoe us,

Takes off our minds, our edges, blunts our plough-shares.

They eat nothing here, but herbs, and get nothing but green sauce:

There are some poor Labourers, that perhaps

Once in seven year, with helping one another,

Produce some few pin'd-Butter-prints, that scarce hold

The christning neither.

Lop.

Your Gallants, they get Honour,

A strange fantastical Birth, to defraud the Vicar,

And the Camp Christens their Issues, or the Curtizans,

'Tis a lewd time.


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