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The Spanish Curate A Comedy



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Actus primus. Scena prima.

Enter Angelo, Milanes, and Arsenio.Arsenio.Leandro paid all.Mil.'Tis his usual custom,And requisite he should: he has now put offThe Funeral black, (your rich heir wears with joy,When he pretends to weep for his dead Father)Your gathering Sires, so long heap muck together,That their kind Sons, to rid them of their care,Wish them in Heaven; or if they take a tasteOf Purgatory by the way, it matters not,Provided they remove hence; what is befalnTo his Father, in the other world, I ask not;I am sure his prayer is heard: would I could use oneFor mine, in the same method.Ars.Fie upon thee.This is prophane.Mil.Good Doctor, do not school meFor a fault you are not free from: On my lifeWere all Heirs in Corduba, put to their Oaths,They would confess with me, 'tis a sound Tenet:I am sure Leandro do's.Ars.He is th'ownerOf a fair Estate.Mil.And fairly he deserves it,He's a Royal Fellow: yet observes a meanIn all his courses, careful too on whomHe showers his bounties: he that's liberalTo all alike, may do a good by chance,But never out of Judgment: This invitesThe prime men of the City to frequentAll places he resorts to, and are happyIn his sweet Converse.Ars.Don Jamie the BrotherTo the Grandee Don Henrique, appears much takenWith his behaviour.Mil.There is something more in't:He needs his Purse, and knows how to make use on't.'Tis now in fashion for your Don, that's poor,To vow all Leagues of friendship with a MerchantThat can supply his wants, and howsoe'reDon Jamie's noble born, his elder BrotherDon Henrique rich, and his Revenues long sinceEncreas'd by marrying with a wealthy HeirCall'd, Madam Vi[o]lante, he yet holdsA hard hand o're Jamie, allowing himA bare annuity only.Ars.Yet 'tis saidHe hath no child, and by the Laws of SpainIf he die without issue, Don JamieInherits his Estate.Mil.Why that's the reasonOf their so many jarrs: though the young LordBe sick of the elder Brother, and in reasonShould flatter, and observe him, he's of a natureToo bold and fierce, to stoop so, but bears up,Presuming on his hopes.Ars.What's the young LadThat all of 'em make so much of?Mil.'Tis a sweet one,And the best condition'd youth, I ever saw yet,So humble, and so affable, that he winsThe love of all that know him, and so modest,That (in despight of poverty) he would starveRather than ask a courtesie: He's the SonOf a poor cast-Captain, one Octavio;And She, that once was call'd th'fair Jacinta,Is happy in being his Mother: for his sake,Enter Jamie, Leandro, and Ascanio.(Though in their Fortunes faln) they are esteem'd of,And cherish'd by the best. O here they come.I now may spare his Character, but observe him,He'l justifie my report.Jam.My good Ascanio,Repair more often to me: above WomenThou ever shalt be welcome.Asc.My Lord your favoursMay quickly teach a raw untutour'd YouthTo be both rude and sawcy.Lean.You cannot beToo frequent where you are so much desir'd:And give me leave (dear friend) to be your RivalIn part of his affection; I will buy itAt any rate....