Alb. How, sir?

ACT IV.-SCENE I.

Car. I do not like your visits;

And, to remove the cause, my daughter is

Already, sir, dispos'd to one above

A Room in DON RAMYRES' House.

teeth.

[Aside.

Car. My next ambition, madam, will be perfect, To call you by some nearer name; my son— Estef. Is a most noble gentleman; I know not Where lives so clear a merit.

Luys. Oh, sweet madam!
Car. Jacinta!

Luys. I have a suit to you.
Estef. To me?

Luys. Only that you would not dote too much upon me: a gentle, easy, sober pace in love goes far, and is much better than a gallop. If you please, we may hold one another in hand, and love this seven years without sealing and delivering.

Estef. With all my heart.

Luys. You'll do me a pleasure, madam.

Estef. You instruct well.

Luys. This courtship is not common.

Estef. I confess it.

Car. Son Luys.

Luys. Sir. [CAR. and LUYs converse aside.

Car. Let her not cool.

Luys. An she do,

I know the way to heat her again.

Estef. I will not yet reveal my abuse, Jacinta; And if you please to favour a design,

I have a plot may serve to both our happiness. Jac. I'll obey.

There is a trembling in my heart.

Car. You must not leave us yet, madam.
Estef. You may command me.
Luys. My Don so rampant! there something
in this pannier

Shall spoil your match to-morrow: Don Alberto,
When I disclose, shall worship me, be drunk,
Cancel arrears, and beg to lend more money.

[Exeunt.

a Notary.

Ram. 'Tis most exactly done, and firm.
Nota. I could,

Omitting or inserting but a word,

Or particle, trouble the whole conveyance,
And make work for the law till doomsday; but-
Fran. Is't possible?

Nota. You do not know the quirks of a serivano. A dash undoes a family,-a point,

An artificial accent i' the wrong place,
Shall poison an estate, translate your land
In Spain now, into either of both Indies,
In less time than our galleons of plate
Are sailing hither; but you are my friend
And noble benefactor.

Ram. There is more
For your reward.

[Gires him money.

Nota. I humbly thank you, signior; su criado. Fran. Farewell.

Thrive in the application.-What now?
Ser. Oh, sir, I am sent for the confessor,
The doctor fears him much. Your brother says
You must have patience, and not enter, sir:
Your father is a going, good old man,

And, having made him heir, is loath your presence
Should interrupt his journey.

[Exit.

Fer. Francisco may be honest, yet, methinks,
It would become his love to interpose
For my access at such a needful hour,
And mediate for my blessing, not assist
Unkindly thus my banishment. I'll not
Be lost so tamely. Shall my father die

And not Fernando take his leave?-I dare not.-
If thou dost hope I should take off this curse,
Do not approach until I send-'twas so,
And 'tis a law that binds above my blood.-

Re-enter Servant with a Confessor.

Make haste, good father, and if Heaven deny
Him life, let not his charity die too.
One curse may sink us both: say how I kneel
And beg he would bequeath me but his blessing;
Then, though Francisco be his heir, I shall
Live happy, and take comfort in my tears,
When I remember him, so kind a father.
Conf. It is my duty.

[Exit.

Fer. Do your holy office.-
Those fond philosophers that magnify
Our human nature, and did boast we had
Such a prerogative in our rational soul,
Convers'd but little with the world; confined

To cells and unfrequented woods, they knew not
The fierce vexation of community,
Else they had taught our reason is our loss,
And but a privilege that exceedeth sense,
By nearer apprehension of what wounds,
To know ourselves most miserable.-My heart

Re-enter Physician and FRANCISCO.

Is teeming with new fears.-Ha! is he dead?
Phys. Not dead, but in a desperate condition;
And so that little breath remains we have
Remitted to his confessor, whose office
Is all that's left.

Fran. Is there no hope of life left, then?
Phys. None.

Fer. Is he not merciful to Fernando yet?
No talk of me?

Phys. I find he takes no pleasure To hear you nam'd: Francisco, to us all, He did confirm his heir, with many blessings.

Fer. And not one left for me! Oh, take me in, Thou gentle earth, and let me creep through all Thy dark and hollow crannies, till I find Another way to come into the world, For all the air I breathe in here is poison'd. Fran. We must have patience, brother; it

was no

Ambitious thought of mine to supplant you:
He may live yet, and you be reconciled.

Fer. That was some kindness yet, Francisco:

but

I charge thee by the nearness of our blood, When I am made this mockery, and wonder,

Francisco the sole master of his fortunes
Is now irrevocable; a small pension
He hath given you for life, which, with his
blessing,

Is all the benefit I bring.

Fer. Ha! blessing! Speak it again, good father.

Conf. I did apply some lenitives to soften His anger, and prevail'd; your father hath Revers'd that heavy censure of his curse, And in the place bequeath'd his prayer and blessing.

Fer. I am new created by his charity.

Conf. Some ceremonies are behind: he did
Desire to be interr'd within our convent,
And left his sepulture to me; I am confident
Your pieties will give me leave-

Fran. His will in all things I obey, and yours,
Most reverend father; order, as you please,
His body; we may after celebrate,
With all due obsequies, his funeral.

Fer. Why you alone obey? I am your brother,
My father's eldest son, though not his heir.
Fran. It pleas'd my father, sir, to think me
worthy

Of such a title; you shall find me kind,
If you can look on matters without en vy.
Fer. If I can look on matters without envy!
Fran. You may live here still.

Fer. I may live here, Francisco!

Enter a Gentleman with a letter, and whispers FRANCISCO.

Luys. You'll give me now a general release For all the sums I owe you?

Alb. Thou hast bless'd me.

Luys. I was born to do you good; about it presently,

Now you know where to ambush. Away! I say,
And get comrades. Jacinta and my mother
Is all the carriage: you may know the coach
By the old woman's cough, ere it come near you.
She has a desperate malice to one tooth left
Still in her gums; till she has shook that out
You will not need a warning-piece. Farewell.
Alb. Farewell? why, what's the matter? You
shall not leave me;

Thy mother will not know thee in a vizard. Luys. You must excuse me, friend: I would join wi' ye

I' the surprise, but that

Alb. What, I pr'y thee?

Luys. I have extraordinary business, that

concerns me

As near as life.

Alb. May not I know't? Thou art going To the widow, now, thy mistress.

Luys. "Tis a business of more consequence. Dost think I would leave thee an there were not such a necessity?

Alb. For what?

Luys. An there were no more sisters in the world,

You must excuse me.

Alb. Nay, nay; we must not part, unless I know

This mystery; some reason why you leave me. Luys. If you will needs know, there's a wench stays for me,

The toy I told thee of. Farewell, Alberto.

Alb. But will you leave such business and a friend?

Luys. Business! art thou a gentleman, and wouldst have me leave a lady I have not seen this three year

For business or a friend? I must to her.
If I had a heart [that weighed] ten ton of iron,
This female adamant 1 would draw it to her;
I feel it going. I do tell thee, Don,
There is no business so material

In nature as a wench; and if thou art my friend,
Thou wouldst leave my sister now in such a cause,
And bear me company. I must be drunk,
And she must pick my pocket too, that is
Another secret, when we meet together,
That never fails!

Alb. Why, art thou desperate?

Dost not thou fear thy body?

Luys. A wench is physic

My body has been us'd to. Leave thy prating And let me take my course.

Alb. An you be so resolute

Luys. I must give you one advice before you go. When my sister's in thy custody, observe The time and place, and things convenient, And stand not fooling about ceremonies, But put her to't.

1 adamant-magnet.

Jac. 'Tis strange.

Estef. Your stars smile on you.

Jac. Yet I much pity the poor gentleman. Estef. Busy your thought about your own; Francisco

Jac. Hath promis'd not to fail?

Estef. He waits where he can easily observe How soon the coast is clear, to visit you.

Jac. So, so: thus hooded,

The day cannot distinguish our two faces,
And, for your voice, you know how to disguise it,
By imitation of my cold and hoarseness;
And when you come to church-

Estef. Let me alone; there I'll produce the contract,

Which will surprise Don Pedro and your father To see me challenge him. I have prepar'd the priest, too,

Whose holy eloquence may assist; however,
This will give you opportunity to perfect
Your wishes with your servant; put the rest
To fate, Jacinta.

Jac. I hear some approach;
Retire into my closet.-

[Exit ESTEFANIA.

Ambition to hope he should be just
To me, or keep his honour, when I look on
The pale complexion of my wants; and yet,
Unless he love me dearly, I am lost,
And, if he have but mock'd me into faith,
He might as well have murder'd me, for I
Shall have no heart to live, if his neglect
Deface what my affection printed there.

Theo. There is no fear of his revolt: lose not
His character. I must attend some business;
If Don Fernando visit thee, preserve
His fair opinion, and thou may'st live
Above thy uncle's pity.

Fel. Will you leave me?

Theo. My stay shall not be long. The garden will With smiling flowers encourage thee to walk, And raise thy drooping eyes with hope to see A spring like theirs upon thee.

Fel. Why should I

[Exit.

Give any entertainment to my fears?
Suspicions are but like the shape of clouds,
And idle forms i' the air, we make to fright us.
I will admit no jealous thought to wound
Fernando's truth, but with that cheerfulness,
My own first clear intents to honour him
Can arm me with, expect to meet his faith
As noble as he promis'd.-Ha! 'tis he.

Enter FERNANDO.

My poor heart trembles like a timorous leaf, Which the wind shakes upon his sickly stalk, And frights into a palsy.

Command me, on his blessing, to forsake thee.
Was't not a cruel precept, to enforce

The soul, and curse his son for honest love?
Fel. This is a wound indeed.

Fer. But not so mortal;

For his last breath was balsam pour'd upon it,
By which he did reverse his malediction;
And I, that groan'd beneath the weight of that
Anathema, sunk almost to despair,

Where night and heavy shades hung round about me,

Found myself rising like the morning star
To view the world.

Fel. Never, I hope, to be

Eclips'd again.

Fer. This was a welcome blessing.

Fel. Heaven had a care of both my joys are mighty.

Vouchsafe me, sir, your pardon, if I blush,
And say I love, but rather than the peace

Fer. Do not, I pr'ythee, do not; I am lost,
Alas! I am no more Fernando, there

Is nothing but the empty name of him
That did betray thee; place a guard about
Thy heart betime; I am not worth this sweetness.
Fel. Did not Fernando speak all this? Alas,
He knew that I was poor before, and needed not
Despise me now for that.

Fer. Desert me goodness,

When I upbraid thy wants. 'Tis I am poor,
For I have not a stock in all the world

Of so much dust as would contrive one narrow
Cabin to shroud a worm: my dying father
Hath given away my birthright to Francisco;
I'm disinherited, thrown out of all,

But the small earth I borrow, thus to walk on; And having nothing left, I come to kiss thee, And take my everlasting leave of thee too. Farewell! this will persuade thee to consent To my eternal absence.

Fel. I must beseech you stay a little, sir, And clear my faith. Hath your displeased father Depriv'd you then of all, and made Francisco The lord of your inheritance, without hope To be repair'd in fortune?

Fer. "Tis sad truth.'

Fel. This is a happiness I did not look for. Fer. A happiness!

Fel. Yes, sir, a happiness.

Fer. Can Felisarda take delight to hear What hath undone her servant?

Fel. Heaven avert it.

But 'tis not worth my grief to be assured
That this will bring me nearer now to him
Whom I most honour of the world; and 'tis
My pride, if you exceed me not in fortune,
That I can boast my heart, as high and rich,
With noble flame, and every way your equal.
And if you be as poor as I, Fernando,

I can deserve you now, and love you more
Than when your expectation carried all
The pride and blossoms of the spring upon it.
Fer. Those shadows will not feed more than
your fancies;

Two poverties will keep but a thin table;

And while we dream of this high nourishment, We do but starve more gloriously.

Fel. 'Tis ease

And wealth first taught us art to surfeit by:
Nature is wise, not costly, and will spread
A table for us in the wilderness;

And the kind earth keep us alive and healthful,
With what her bosom doth invite us to;
The brooks, not there suspected, as the wine
That sometime princes quaff, are all transparent,
And with their pretty murmurs call to taste them.
In every tree a chorister to sing

Health to our loves; our lives shall there be free
As the first knowledge was from sin, and all
Our dreams as innocent.

Just here above my sciatica, and quoited mo Into the coach again upon my head

I had a larum in't for half an hour,

And so I 'scap'd with life.

Ped. Did they use her

With any rigour?

Als. To say truth, they were
Gentle enough to her.

Ped. That mollifies, and they may live.
Car. Hell overtake them! Let's return.