Francis Beaumont

“ 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 your May of 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? ”

“ I am deeply in a sweet point Sir.
Bar.
I'le instruct ye:
Enter Amaranta.
I say take breath, seek health first, then your study.
O my sweet soul, I have brought thee golden birds home,
Birds in abundance: I have done strange wonders:
There's more a hatching too.
Am.
Have ye done, good husband?
Then 'tis a good day spent.
Bar.
Good enough chicken,
I have spread the nets o'th' law, to catch rich booties,
And they come fluttering in: how do's my Pupil?
My modest thing, hast thou yet spoken to him?
Am.
As I past by his chamber I might see him,
But he is so bookish. ”

“ 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.
Take us to mercy too, we beseech your honour,
We shall be justified the way of all flesh else.
Jam.
No more talk, nor no more dissention lawyer,
I know your anger, 'tis a vain and slight one,
For if you doe, I'le lay your whole life open,
A life that all the world shall—I'le bring witness,
And rip before a Judge the ulcerous villanies,
You know I know ye, and I can bring witness. ”

“ Enter Bartolus.
Bar.
Where is my wife? 'fore heaven, I have done wonders,
Done mighty things to day, my Amaranta,
My heart rejoyces at my wealthy Gleanings,
A rich litigious Lord I love to follow,
A Lord that builds his happiness on brawlings,
O 'tis a blessed thing to have rich Clyents,
Why, wife I say, how fares my studious Pupil?
Hard at it still? ye are too violent,
All things must have their rests, they will not last else,
Come out and breathe. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ With him Don Henrique?
Jac.
Now I fear;
Be silent.
Hen.
Why dost thou follow me?
Jam.
To save your life,
A plot is laid for't, all my wrongs forgot,
I have a Brothers Love.
Hen.
But thy false self
I fear no enemy.
Jam.
You have no friend,
But what breathes in me: If you move a step
Beyond this ground you tread on, you are lost.
Hen.
'Tis by thy practice then: I am sent hither
To meet her, that prefers my life and safetie
Before her own. ”

“ Rich men can want no Heirs, Sir.
Bar.
They do ill,
Indeed they do, to trouble him; very ill, Sir.
But we shall take a care.
Enter Diego, in a Bed, Milanes, Arsenio, and Parishioners.
Lop.
Will ye come near, Sir?
'Pray ye bring him out; now ye may see in what state:
Give him fresh Air.
Bar.
I am sorry, Neighbour Diego,
To find ye in so weak a state.
Die.
Ye are welcome,
But I am fleeting, Sir.
Bar.
Me-thinks he looks well,
His colour fresh, and strong, his eyes are chearful.
Lop.
A glimmering before death, 'tis nothing else, Sir,
Do you see how he fumbles with the Sheet? ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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 yet
That 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 him
Of jealousie, and of revenge, and frailtie,
Of drawing Bills against us, and Petitions. ”

“ Shall? 'tis too tedious: furnish me with means
To hire the instruments, and to your self
Say 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 neighbour
To the west Port of th' City; leave the rest
To 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. ”

“ Lop.
Most finely fooled, and handsomely, and neatly,
Such cunning Masters must be fool'd sometimes, Sir,
And have their Worships noses wiped, 'tis healthful,
We are but quit: you fool us of our moneys
In every Cause, in every Quiddit wipe us.
Die.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, some more drink, for my heart, Gentlemen.
This merry Lawyer—ha, ha, ha, ha, this Scholar—
I think this fit will cure me: this Executor—
I shall laugh out my Lungs.
Bar.
This is derision above sufferance, villany
Plotted and set against me.
Die.
Faith 'tis Knavery,
In troth I must confess, thou art fool'd indeed, Lawyer. ”

“ Remember your Parish, Neighbour.
Die.
You speak truly,
I do remember it, a lewd vile Parish,
And pray it may be mended: To the poor of it,
(Which is to all the Parish) I give nothing,
For nothing, unto nothing, is most natural,
Yet leave as much space, as will build an Hospital,
Their Children may pray for me.
Bar.
What do you give to it?
Die.
Set down two thousand Duckets.
Bar.
'Tis a good gift,
And will be long remembred. ”

“ No more to know his house, upon your danger,
I am sorry, Sir.
Jam.
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 ”

“ 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? ”

“ I scorn what can fall on me.
Assist.
The strict discipline
Of the Church, will teach you better thoughts. And Signiors,
You that are Batchelours, if you ever marry,
In Bartolus you may behold the issue
Of Covetousness and Jealousie; and of dotage,
And falshood in Don Henrique: keep a mean then;
For be assured, that weak man meets all ill,
That gives himself up to a womans will. ”

“ To give whom entertainment Savages
Would quit their Caves themselves, to keep him from
Bleak cold and hunger: This dissembling woman,
This Idol, whom you worship, all your love
And service trod under her feet, designs you
To fill a grave, or dead to lye a prey
For Wolves and Vulturs.
Hen.
'Tis false; I defie thee,
And stand upon my Guard.
Enter Leandro, Milanes, Arsenio, Bart, Lopez, Diego,
Octavio, Jacinta, Ascanio, and Servants.
Jam.
Alas, 'tis weak:
Come on, since you will teach me to be cruel,
By having no faith in me, take your fortune,
Bring the rest forth, and bind them fast. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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.
Die.
They are so hard-hearted here too,
They will not dye, there's nothing got by Burials.
Lop.
Diego, the Air's too pure, they cannot perish.
To have a thin Stipend, and an everlasting Parish,
Lord what a torment 'tis! ”

“ He bears a promising face, there's some hope toward.
Lea.
I have a Letter to your worship.
Lop.
Well Sir,
From whence I pray you?
Lea.
From Nova Hispania, Sir,
And from an ancient friend of yours.
Lop.
'Tis well, Sir,
'Tis very well: the devil a-one I know there.
Die.
Take heed of a Snap, Sir, h'as a cozening countenance
do not like his way.
Lop.
Let him goe forward.
Cantabit vacuus, They that have nothing fear nothing,
All I have to lose, Diego, is my learning,
And when he has gotten that, he may put it in a Nut shell. ”

“ But those I'le leave to th' Law.
Lop.
Now he grows temperate.
Bar.
You will give no more?
Die.
I am loth to give more from ye,
Because I know you will have a care to execute.
Only, to pious uses, Sir, a little.
Bar.
If he be worth all these, I am made for ever.
Die.
I give to fatal Dames, that spin mens threads out,
And poor distressed Damsels, that are militant
As members of our own Afflictions,
A hundred Crowns to buy warm Tubs to work in,
I give five hundred pounds to buy a Church-yard,
A spacious Church-yard, to lay Thieves and Knaves in,
Rich men and honest men take all the room up. ”