The Spanish Curate: A Comedy. Beaumont Francis
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
(My Violante) 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 of Spain,
(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.
Actus Secundus. Scena prima
Enter Leandro, (with a letter writ out) Milanes, and Arsenio.
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 him Lopez.
You are ne're the nearer now.
Mil.
We do confess it.
Lea.
Weak simple men, this Vicar to this Lawyer
Is the most inward Damon.
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 Close Bartolus
(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.
Enter Lopez, and Diego.
Next