look my poor boy in the face: but come, Charles; let them go on; thou shalt not want money to buy thee books yet-that old fool, thy father, and his young puppy, shall not share a groat of mine between them; nay, to plague them, I could find in my heart to fall sick in a pet, give thee my estate in a passion, and leave the world in a fury. [Exit. SCENE I. ACT II. Enter ANTONIO and SANCHO. Ant. Enough to give him books, and a moderate maintenance; that's as much as he cares for; you talk like a fool, a coxcomb; trouble him with land San. Must master Clodio have all, sir? Ant. All, all; he knows how to use it; he's a man bred in this world; t'other in the skies, his business is altogether above stairs; [Bell rings.] go, see what he wants. [Exit SANCHO. San. A father, I'm sure. Ant. What, will none of my rogues come near me now? Oh here they are. Enter three Servants. Well, sir, in the first place, can you procure me a plentiful dinner for about fifty, within two hours? Your young master is to be married this morning; will that spur you, sir? Cook. Young master, sir! I wish your honour had given me a little more warning. Ant. Sir, you have as much as I had; I was not sure of it half an hour ago. Cook. Sir, I will try what I can do-Hey, Pedro! Gusman! Come, stir, ho! [Exit Cook. Ant. Butler, open the cellar to all good fellows; if any man offers to sneak away sober, knock him down! [Exeunt. CARLOS alone in his study. A Noise of chop ping within. then make me a little fire, and get a manchet; I'll dine alone-Does my younger brother speak any Greek yet, Sancho? Sun. No, sir, but he spits French like a magpie, and that's more in fashion. Car. He steps before me there; I think I read it well enough to understand it; but, when I am to give it utterance, it quarrels with my tongue. Again that noise! Pr'ythee tell me, Sancho, are there any princes to dine here? San. Some there are as happy as princes, sir; your brother's married to-day. Cur. What of that? might not six dishes serve them? I never have but one, and eat of that but sparingly. San. Sir, all the country round is invited; not a dog that knows the house but comes too: all open, sir. Cur. Pr'ythee, who is it my brother marries? Sun. Old Charino's daughter, sir, the great heiress; a delicate creature; young, soft, smooth, fair, plump, and ripe as a cherry-and, they say, modest too. Car. That's strange; pr'ythee, how do these modest women look? I never yet conversed with any but my own mother; to me, they ever were but shadows, seen and unregarded. San. Ah, would you saw this lady, sir! she would draw you farther than your Archimedes; she has a better secret than any's in Aristotle, if you studied for it. 'Egad, you'd find her the prettiest natural philosopher to play with! Car. Is she so fine a creature? San. Such eyes! such looks! such a pair of pretty, plump, pouting lips! such softness in her voice! such music, too! and, when she smiles, such roguish dimples in her cheeks! such a clear skin! white neck, and, a little lower, such a pair of round, hard, heaving, what d'y e-call-ums-ah! Car. Why, thou art in love, Sancho. San. Ay, so would you be, if you saw her, sir. my father make them? San. Only all his dirty land, sir, and makes your brother his sole heir. Car. Must I have nothing? San. Books in abundance; leave to study your eyes out, sir. Car. I'm the elder born, and have a title though. Sun. No matter for that, sir, he'll have possession-of the lady, too! Car. I wish him happy-he'll not inherit my little understanding, too! San. Oh, sir, he's more a gentleman than to do that--Ods me, sir! sir, here comes the very lady, the bride, your sister that must be, and her father. Enter CHARINO and ANGELINA. Stand close; you'll both see and hear, sir. Cur. I ne'er saw any yet so fair; such sweetness in her looks! such modesty! If we may think the eye the window to the heart, she has a thousand treasured virtues there. Sun. So! the book is gone. [Aside. Cha. Come, pr'ythee, put on a brisker look; eds-heart, dost thou think in conscience, that's fit for thy wedding-day? Ang. Sir, I wish it were not quite so sudden; a little time for farther thought, perhaps, had made it easier to me: to change for ever, is no trifle, sir. Car. A wonder! Cha. Look you, his fortune I have taken care of, and his person you have no exceptions to.What, in the name of Venus, would the girl have? Ang. I never said, of all the world I made him, sir, my choice: nay, though he be yours, I cannot say I am highly pleased with him, nor yet am averse; but I had rather welcome your commands and him, than disobedience. Cha. Oh, if that be all, madam, to make you easy, my commands are at your service. Ang. I have done with my objections, sir. Car. Such understanding in so soft a form! Happy-happy brother! may he be happy, while I sit down in patience and alone! I have gazed too much-Reach me an Ovid. [Exeunt CARLOS and SANCHO. Cha. I say put on your best looks, hussyfor here he comes, faith. Enter CLODIO. Ah, my dear Clody! Clo. My dear, [Kisses him.] dear dad. Ha! Ma princesse! estes vous là donc ? Ah, ha! Non, non, Je ne m'y connois guères, &c. [Sings.] Look, look-look, o'slyboots; what, she knows nothing of the matter! But you will, childE'gad, I shall count the clock extremely to-night. Let me see what time shall I rise to-morrow? Not till after nine, ten, eleven, for a pistole.Ah-C'est à dire, votre cœur insensible est enfin vaincu. Non, non, &c. [Sings a second verse. my Enter ANTONIO, Don LEWIS, and Lawyer. Ant. Well said, Clody! my noble brother, welcome! fair daughter, I give you joy! Clo. And so will I, too, sir. Allons! Vivons! Chantons, dansons! Hey! L'autre jour, &c. [Sings and dances, &c. Ant. Well said again, boy. Sir, you and your writings are welcome. What, my angry brother! nay, you must have your welcome, too, or we shall make but a flat feast of it. D. Lew. Sir, I am not welcome, nor I won't be welcome, nor nobody's welcome, and you are all a parcel of Cha. What, sir? D. Lew.-Miserable wretches-sad dogs. Ant. Come, pray, sir, bear with him, he's old and hasty but he'll dine and be good company for all this. D. Lew. A strange lie that. Cla. Ha, ha, ha! poor Testy, ha, ba! D. Lew. Don't laugh, my dear rogue, pr'thee, don't laugh now; faith, I shall break thy head, if thou dost. Clo. Gad so! why, then, I find you are angry at me, dear uncle! D. Lew. Angry at thee, hey puppy! Why, what?what dost thou see in that lovely hatchet face of thine, that is worth my being out of he mour at? Blood and fire, ye dog! get out of my sight, or Ant. Nay, brother, this is too far D. Lew. Angry at him! a son of a—son's son of a whore! Cha. Ha, ha! poor peevish D. Lew. I'd fain have some body poison him. [To himself.] Ah, that sweet creature! Mast this fair flower be cropped to stick up in a piece of rascally earthen ware? I must speak to herPuppy, stand out of my way. Clo. Ha, ha! ay, now for it. D. Lew. [To ANGELINA.] Ah! ah! ah! Madam-I pity you; you're a lovely young crea ture, and ought to have a handsome man yoked to you, one of understanding, too;-I am sorry to say it, but this fellow's skull's extremely thick he can never get any thing but muffs and snuf boxes; or, say, he should have a thing shaped like a child, you can make nothing of it but a tailor. Clo. Odds me! why, you are testy, my dear uncle. D. Lew. Will nobody take that troublesome dog out of my sight?—I cannot stay where he is -I'll go see my poor boy Charles-I've disturb ed you, madam; your humble servant. Ant. You'll come again, and drink the bride's health, brother? | Clo. Ha, ha! bye, nuncle. [Exit D. LEWIS Ang. An odd-humoured gentleman. Ant. Very odd indeed, child; I suppose, pure spite, he'll make my son Charles his heir. Ang. Methinks I would not have a light head, nor one laden with too much learning, as my fa ther says this Carlos is; sure there's something hid in that gentleman's concern for him, that speaks him not so mere a log. Ant. Come, shall we go and seal, brother? The priest stays for us. When Carlos has signed the conveyance, as he shall presently, we'll then to the wedding, and so to dinner. Cha. With all my heart, sir. Clo. Allons, ma chere princesse ! [Exeunt D. Lew. Have you no greater feeling? San. You were sensible of the great book, sir, when it fell upon your head; and won't the ruin of your fortune stir you? Car. Will he have my books, too? D. Lew. No, no; he has a book, a fine one, too, called The Gentleman's Recreation; or, The Secret Art of getting Sons and Daughters:' such a creature! a beauty in folio! Would thou hadst her in thy study, Carlos, though it were but to new-clasp her! San. He has seen her, sir. San. He flung away his book, sir. D. Lew. Did he, faith? would he had flung away his humour, too, and spoke to her. Cur. Must my brother then have all? D. Lew. All, all. San. All that your father has, sir. Sun. Ay, sir. Car. And that fair creature, too? D. Low. Hey! Car. He has enough then. [Sighing. D. Lew. He have her, Charles! why would, would, that is--hey! Car. May not I see her sometimes, and call her sister? I'll do her no wrong. D. Lew. I can't bear this! 'Sheart, I could cry for madness! Flesh and fire! do but speak to her, man. Car. I cannot, sir; her look requires something of that distant awe, words of that soft respect, and yet such force and meaning, too, that I should stand confounded to approach her, and yet I long to wish her joy. Oh, were I born to give it, too! D. Lew. Why, thou shalt wish her joy, boy ; faith she is a good-humoured creature: she'll take it kindly. Car. Do you think so, uncle? D. Lew. I'll to her, and tell of you. Car. Do, sir-Stay, uncle-will she not think me rude? I would not for the world offend her. D. Lew. 'Fend a fiddle-stick-let me Car. Nay, but, sir! dear uncle! Ant. Nay, no great matter, child; only to put your name here a little, to this bit of parchment: I think you write a reasonable good hand, Charles. Car. Pray, sir, to what use may it be? Ant. Only to pass your title in the land I have to your brother Clodio. Cur. Is it no more, sir? Law. That's all, sir. Ant. No, no, 'tis nothing else; look you, you shall be provided for; you shall have what books you please, and your means shall come in without your care, and you shall always have a servant to wait on you. Car. Sir, I thank you; but, if you please, I had rather sign it before the good company below; it being, sir, so frank a gift, 'twill be some small compliment to have done it before the lady, too: there I shall sign it cheerfully, and wish my brother fortune. Ant. With all my heart, child; it is the same thing to me. Car. You'll excuse me, sir, if I make no great stay with you. Ant. Do as thou wilt; thou shalt do any thing thou hast a mind to. [Exeunt. San. Now has he undone himself for ever; ods-heart, I'll down into the cellar, and be stark drunk for anger. [Exit. SCENE III.-Changes to a Dining-room : a large table spread. Enter CHARINO with ANGELINA, CLODIO, Don Priest. Sir, I shall dispatch them presently, immediately; for, in truth, I am an hungry. Clo. 'Egad, I warrant you, the priest and I could both fall to without saying graceHa, you little rogue! what, you think it long too? Ang. I find no fault, sir; better things were well done, than done too hastily- -Sir, you look melancholy. [To Don LEWIS. D. Lew. Sweet-smelling blossom! Ah, that I had the gathering of thee! I would stick thee in the bosom of a pretty young fellow-Ah, thou hast missed a man (but that he is so bealone-witched to his study, and knows no other mistress than his mind) so far above this featherheaded puppy [Exit Don LEWIS. Enter ANTONIO and the Lawyer, with a writing Ant. Where's my son? San. There, sir, casting a figure what chopping children his brother shall have, and where he shall find a new father for himself. Ant. I shall find a stick for you, rogue, I shall. Charles, how dost thou do? Come hither, boy. Cur. Your pleasure, sir? - Ang. Can he talk, sir? D. Lew. Like an angel--to himself--the upon the high business: to heaven, and heavendevil a word to a woman: his language is all ly wonders, to nature, and her dark and secret causes. Ang. Does he speak so well there, sir? D. Lew. To admiration! Such curiosities! but he cann't look a woman in the face; if he does, he blushes like fifteen. Ang. But a little conversation, methinks D. Lew. Why, so I think too; but the boy's bewitched, and the devil cann't bring him to it: shall I try if I can get him to wish you joy? Ang. I shall receive it as becomes his sister, sir. Clo. Look, look, old Testy will fall in love by and by; he's hard at it, split me! Cha. Let him alone; she'll fetch him about, I warrant you. Clo. So, here my father comes! Now, priest. Hey, my brother too! that's a wonder; broke like a spirit from his cell. Enter ANTONIO and CARLOS. D. Lew. Odso, here he is; that's he; a little inclining to the lean, or so, but his understanding's the fatter for it. Ant. Come, Carlos, 'twere your desire to see my fair daughter and the good company, and to seal before them all, and give your brother joy. Cha. He does well; I shall think the better of him as long as I live. Car. Is this the lady, sir? Ant. Ay, that's your sister, Charles. Cur. Forbid it, love! [Aside.] Do you not think she'll grace our family? Ant. No doubt on it, sir. Car. Should I not thank her for so unmerited a grace? Ant. Ay, and welcome, Charles. D. Lew. Now, my boy, give her a gentle twist by the finger; lay your lips softly, softly, close and plump to her. [Apart to CARLOS. Car. Pardon a stranger's freedom, lady[Salutes ANGELINA.] Dissolving softness! Oh, the drowning joy!-Happy, happy he, that sips eternally such nectar down, that, unconfined, may lave and wanton there in sateless draughts of ever-springing beauty!-But you, fair creature, share by far the higher joy; if, as I've read, (nay, now am sure) the sole delight of love lies only in the power to give. a man; before, what man was, was but my argu Clo. Come, come, will you—- [Interposing with his back to CLODIO. Car. Whence is it, fair, that while I offer speech to you, my thoughts want words, my words their free and honest utterance? Why is it this I tremble at your touch, and fear your frown, z would a frighted child the dreadful lightning? Yet should my dearest friend or brother dare to check my vain deluded wishes, oh, I should tar, and tear him like an offended lion-Is this, can it, must it be in a sister's power? Clo. Come, come, will you sign, brother? Car. O! if you knew with what precipitated haste you hurry on a deed, that makes you blesed or miserable for ever, even yet, near as you are to happiness, you'd find no danger in a mo ment's pause. Clo. I say, will you sign, brother? Car. Away, I have no time for trifles! room for an elder brother. the D. Lew. Why, did not I bid thee stand out of way now? Ant. Ay, but this is trifling, Charles! Come, come, your hand, man. Car. Your pardon, sir, I cannot seal yet; had you only shewed me land, I had resigned it free, and proud to have bestowed it to your pleasure: 'tis care, 'tis dirt, and trouble: but you have oper ed to me such a treasure, such unimagined ruines of solid joy, that I perceive my temper stubbor now, even to a churlish avarice of love!—Heaven direct my fortune! Ant. And so you won't part with your title, sir? Car. Sooner with my soul of reason! be a plant, a beast, a fish, a fly, and only make the number of things up, than yield one foot of land Ang. How near his thoughts agree with mine! This the mere scholar I was told of! [Aside.]—if she be tied to it. I find, sir, you have experienced love; you seem acquainted with the passion? Cur. I've had, indeed, a dead pale glimpse in theory, but never saw the enlivening light before. Ang. Ha, before! [Aside. Ant. Well, these are very fine compliments, Charles; but you say nothing to your brother yet. Car. Oh, yes, and wish him, sir, with any other beauty (if possible) more lasting joy than I could taste with her! Ang. He speaks unhappily. what do you say, brother? Ant. Nay, for my part, I don't understand him. Cha. Nor I. D. Lew. Stand clear! I do—and that sweet creature too, I hope. Ang. Too well, I fear. Ant. Come, come, to the writing, Charles; pr'ythee, leave thy studying, man. Car. I'll leave my life first; I study now to be Cha. I don't like this; he talks oddly, methinks. Ang. Yet with a bravery of soul might warm the coldest heart. [Aside Clo. Pshaw, pox! pr'ythee, brother, you had better think of those things in your study, man! Car. Go you and study, for 'tis time, young brother; turn o'er the tedious volumes I have read; think, and digest them well! the wholesomest food for green consumptive minds; nor dare to dream of marriage-vows, till thou hast taught thy soul, like mine, to love-Is it for thee to wear a jewel of this inestimable worth? D. Lew. Ah, Charles! [Kisses him.] What say you to the scholar now, chicken? Ang. A wonder! Is this gentleman your brother, sir? [TO CLODIO. Clo. Hey! No, my- -Madam, not quite— that is, he is a little a-kin by the Pox on him! would he were buried-I cann't tell what to say to him, split me! Ant. Positively, you will not seal then, ha? CIBBER.] Ant. O, may you so, sir! Clo. Ay! sir, hey! What, you are come to yourself I find, 'sheart! Cha. Ay, ay, give him a little time, he'll think better on't, I warrant you. Car. Perhaps, fair creature, I have done you wrong, whose plighted love and hope went hand in hand together; but, I conjure you, think my life were hateful after so base, so barbarous an act as parting them: What! to lay waste at once for ever all the gay blossoms of your forward fortune! O forbid it, Love! forbid it, Nature and Humanity! I have no land, no fortune, life, or being, while your necessity or peace requires them. Say! or give me need to think your smallest hope depends on my objected ruin; my ruin is my safety there; my fortune or my life resigned with joy, so your account of happy hours were thence but raised to any added number. Cha. Why ay ! there's some civility in this. Clo. The fellow really talks very prettily. Car. But if, in bare compliance to a father's will, you now but suffer marriage, or, what's worse, give it as an extorted bond, imposed on the simplicity of your youth, and dare confess you wish some honest friend would save or free you from its hard conditions: I then again have land, have life, and resolution, waiting still upon your happier fortune. Clo. Ha, ha! pert enough, that! 'Egad! I long to see what this will come to! Priest. In truth, unless somebody is married presently, the dinner will be spoiled, and then nobody will be able to eat it. Ant. Brother, I say, let's remove the lady. Car. 'Tis too late! I have a figure here!Sooner shall bodies leave their shade; so fixed, so rooted here is every growing thought of her. Clo. Gads me! what, now it's troublesome again, is it? Car. Consider, fair one, now's the very crisis of our fate: you cannot have it, sure, to ask, if honour be the parent of my love: if you can love for love, and think your heart rewarded there, like two young vines we'll curl together, circling our souls in never-ending joy : we'll spring together, and we'll bear one fruit; one joy shall make us smile, one sorrow mourn; one age go with us; one hour of death shall close our eyes, and one cold grave shall hold us happySay but you hate me not! O speak! Give but the softest breath to that transporting thought! Ang. Need I then speak, to say, I am far from hating you----I would say more, but there is no thing fit for me to say. Cha. I'll bear it no longer--- Ang. On this you may depend, I cannot like that marriage was proposed me. Car. How shall my soul requite this goodness? | Cha. Beyond patience! this is downright insolence! roguery! rape! Ant. Part them. Clo. Ay, ay! part them, part them. D. Lew. Doll! dum! dum! [Sings, and draws in their defence. Cha. Call an officer! I'll have them forced asunder. Ang. Nay, then I am reduced to take protec- [Sings and dances. Ant. Carlos, I say, forego the lady. Car. Never, while I have sense of being, life, or motion. Clo. You won't! Gadso! What, then I find I must lug out upon this business? Allons! the lady, sir! D. Lew. Lorra! Dorrol! Loll! [Presenting his point to CLODIO. Cha. I'll have his blood! by all the scars and wounds of honour in my family! [Exit CHAR. Car. Hold, uncle! come, brother! sheath your anger--I'll do my best to satisfy you all. but first I would entreat a blessing here. Ant. Out of my doors! thou art no son of [Erit ANT. mine. Car. I am sorry I have lost a father, sir---For you, brother, since once you had a seeming hope, in lieu of what you've lost, half of my birthright. Clo. No halves! no halves, sir! the whole lady! terms. Clo. What terms? What terms? Come, quick, quick. Car, The first is this-[Snatches D. LEWIS's sword.] Win her and wear her; for, on my soul, unless my body fail, my mind shall never yield thee up a thought in love. D. Lew. Gramercy, Charles! To him, boy!'Egad this love has made a man of him. Car. This is the first good sword I ever poised in anger yet; 'tis sharp I'm sure; if it but hold my putting home, I shall so hunt your insolence! I feel the fire of ten strong spirits in me: wert thou a native fencer, in so fair a cause, I thus should hold thee at the worst defiance. Clo. Look you, brother, take care of yourself; I shall certainly be in you the first thrust: but if you had rather, d'ye sce, we'll talk a little calmly about this business. Car. Away, trifler! I would be loth to prove thee a coward too. Clo. Coward ! why, then really, sir, if you please, midriff's the word, brother; you are a son of a whore-Allons! [They fight, and CLODIO is disarmed. Car. There, sir, take your life-and mend it. |