SCENA IV.
Enter Bartolus, and
Amaranta.
Amar.
Why will ye bring men in, and yet be
jealous?
Why will ye lodge a young man, a man
able,
And yet repine?
Bar.
He shall not trouble thee, sweet,
A modest poor slight thing, did I not tell
thee
He was only given to the Book, and for
that
How Royally he paies? finds his own meat
too.
Amar.
I will not have him here: I know your
courses,
And what fits you will fall into of
madness.
Bar.
'Faith, I will not, Wife.
Amar.
I will not try ye.
Bar.
He comes not near thee: shall not dare to
tread
Within thy Lodgings: in an old
out-Room
Where Logs, and Coles were laid.
Amar.
Now ye lay fire; fire to consume your
quiet.
Bar.
Didst thou know him,
Thou wouldst think as I do: he disquiet
thee?
Thou mayst wear him next thy heart, and yet not
warm him.
His mind (poor man) 's o'th' Law, how to live
after,
And not on lewdness: on my Conscience
He knows not how to look upon a Woman
More than by reading what Sex she is.
Amar.
I do not like it, Sir.
Bar.
Do'st thou not see (Fool)
What presents he sends hourly in his
gratefulness?
What delicate meats?
Amar.
You had best trust him at your Table,
Do, and repent it, do.
Bar.
If thou be'st willing,
By my troth, I think he might come, he's so
modest,
He never speaks: there's part of that he gave
me,
He'll eat but half a dozen bits, and rise
immediately,
Even as he eats, he studies: he'll not disquiet
thee,
Do as thou pleasest, Wife.
Amar.
What means this Wood-cock?
[Knock within.
Bar.
Retire, Sweet, there's one knocks: come in, your
business.
Enter Servant.
Ser.
My Lord, Don Henrique, would entreat ye,
Sir,
To come immediately, and speak with
him,
He has business of some moment.
Bar.
I'le attend him,
I must be gone: I pre'thee think the best,
Wife,
At my return, I'le tell thee more, good
morrow;
Sir, keep ye close, and study hard: an hour
hence
I'le read a new Case to ye.—
[Exit.
[Leandro within.]
Lean.
I'le be ready.
Amar.
So many hundred Duckets, to ly
scurvily?
And learn the pelting Law? this sounds but
slenderly,
But very poorly: I would see this
fellow,
Very fain see him, how he looks: I will
find
To what end, and what study: there's the
place:
I'le go o'th' other side, and take my
Fortune.
I think there is a window.
[Exit.
Enter Leandro.
Lean.
He's gone out
Now, if I could but see her: she is not this
way:
How nastily he keeps his house! my
Chamber,
If I continue long, will choak me up,
It is so damp: I shall be mortified
For any woma[n], if I stay a month
here:
I'le in, and strike my Lute, that sound may call
her.
[Exit.
Lute and Song.
1.
Dearest do not you delay me,
Since thou knowest I must be gone;
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.
Since thou knowest I must be gone;
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.
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.
[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.
[Exit.
Lean.
Sure she has transform'd me,
I had forgot my tongue clean,
I never saw a face yet, but this rare
one,
But I was able boldly to encounter it,
And speak my mind, my lips were lockt up
here.
This is divine, and only serv'd with
reverence;
O most fair cover of a hand far
fairer,
Thou blessed Innocence, that guards that
whiteness,
Live next my heart. I am glad I have got a
relick,
[A noise within]
A relick when I pray to it, may work
wonders.
Hark, there's some noise: I must retire
again.
This blessed Apparition makes me
happy;
I'le suffer, and I'le sacrifice my
substance,
But I'le enjoy: now softly to my Kennel.
[Exit.
Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.
Enter Henrique, and
Bartolus.
Hen.
You know my cause sufficiently?
Bar.
I do Sir.
Hen.
And though it will impair my honesty,
And strike deep at my Credit, yet, my
Bartolus,
There being no other evasion left to free
me
From the vexation of my spightful
Brother,
That most insultingly raigns over me,
I must and will go forward.
Bar.
Do, my Lord,
And look not after credit, we shall cure
that,
Your bended honesty we shall set right,
Sir,
We Surgeons of the Law do desperate Cures,
Sir,
And you shall see how heartily I'le handle
it:
Mark how I'le knock it home: be of good chear,
Sir,
You give good Fees, and those beget good
Causes,
The Prerogative of your Crowns will carry the
matter,
(Carry it sheer) the Assistant sits to
morrow,
And he's your friend, your monyed men love
naturally,
And as your loves are clear, so are your
Causes.
Hen.
He shall not want for that.
Bar.
No, no, he must not,
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.
Hen.
They shall swear truth too.