The Little French Lawyer: A Comedy

Francis Beaumont

The Little French Lawyer: A Comedy

THE

Little French Lawyer.

A COMEDY

Persons Represented in the Play

Dinant, a Gentleman that formerly loved, and still pretended to love Lamira.

Cleremont, a merry Gentleman, his Friend.

Champernell, a lame old Gentleman, Husband to Lamira.

Vertaign, a Noble-man, and a Judge.

Beaupre, Son to Vertaign.

Verdone, Nephew to Champernell.

Monsieur La Writt, a wrangling Advocate, or the Little Lawyer.

Sampson, a foolish Advocate, Kinsman to Vertaign.

Provost.

Gentlemen.

Clients.

Servants.

WOMEN

Lamira, Wife to Champernell, and Daughter to Vertaign.

Anabell, Niece to Champernell.

Old Lady, Nurse to Lamira.

Charlotte, Waiting Gentlewoman to Lamira.

The Scene France.

The principal Actors were,

Joseph Taylor.

John Lowin.

John Underwood.

Robert Benfield.

Nicholas Toolie.

William Egleston.

Richard Sharpe.

Thomas Holcomb.

Actus Primus. Scena Prima

Enter Dinant, a[n]d Cleremont.

Din. Disswade me not.Clere. It will breed a brawl.Din. I care not, I wear a Sword.Cler. And wear discretion with it,Or cast it off, let that direct your arm,'Tis madness else, not valour, and more baseThan to receive a wrong.Din. Why would you have meSit down with a disgrace, and thank the doer?We are not Stoicks, and that passive courageIs only now commendable in Lackies,Peasants, and Tradesmen, not in men of rankAnd qualitie, as I am.Cler. Do not cherishThat daring vice, for which the whole age suffers.The blood of our bold youth, that heretoforeWas spent in honourable action,Or to defend, or to enlarge the Kingdom,For the honour of our Country, and our Prince,Pours it self out with prodigal expenceUpon our Mothers lap, the Earth that bred usFor every trifle; and these private Duells,Which had their first original from the Fr[enc]h(And for which, to this day, we are justly censured)Are banisht from all civil Governments:Scarce three in Venice, in as many years;In Florence, they are rarer, and in allThe fair Dominions of the Spanish King,They are never heard of: Nay, those neighbour Countries,Which gladly imitate our other follies,And come at a dear rate to buy them of us,Begin now to detest them.Din. Will you end yet—Cler. And I have heard that some of our late Kings,For the lie, wearing of a Mistris favour,A cheat at Cards or Dice, and such like causes,Have lost as many gallant Gentlemen,As might have met the great Turk in the fieldWith confidence of a glorious Victorie,And shall we then—Din. No more, for shame no more,Are you become a Patron too? 'tis a new one,No more on't, burn't, give it to some Orator,To help him to enlarge his exercise,With such a one it might do well, and profitThe Curat of the Parish, but for Cleremont,The bold, and undertaking Cleremont,To talk thus to his friend, his friend that knows him,Dinant that knows his Cleremont, is absurd,And meer Apocrypha.Cler. Why, what know you of me?Din. Why if thou hast forgot thy self, I'le tell thee,And not look back, to speak of what thou wertAt fifteen, for at those years I have heardThou wast flesh'd, and enter'd bravely.Cler. Well Sir, well.Din. But yesterday, thou wast the common second,Of all that only knew thee, thou hadst billsSet up on every post, to give thee noticeWhere any difference was, and who were parties;And as to save the charges of the LawPoor men seek arbitrators, thou wert chosenBy such as knew thee not, to compound quarrels:But thou wert so delighted with the sport,That if there were no just cause, thou wouldst make one,Or be engag'd thy self: This goodly callingThou hast followed five and twenty years, and studiedThe Criticismes of contentions, and art thouIn so few hours transform'd? certain this nightThou hast had strange dreams, or rather visions.Clere. Yes, Sir,I have seen fools, and fighters, chain'd together,And the Fighters had the upper hand, and whipt first,The poor Sots laughing at 'em. What I have beenIt skils not, what I will be is resolv'd on.Din. Why then you'l fight no more?Cler. Such is my purpose.Din. On no occasion?Cler. There you stagger me.Some kind of wrongs there are which flesh and bloodCannot endure.Din. Thou wouldst not willinglyLive a protested coward, or be call'd one?Cler. Words are but words.Din. Nor wouldst thou take a blow?Cler. Not from my friend, though drunk, and from an enemyI think much less.Din. There's some hope of thee left then,Wouldst thou hear me behind my back disgrac'd?Cler. Do you think I am a rogue? they that should do itHad better been born dumb.Din. Or in thy presenceSee me o'recharg'd with odds?Cler. I'd fall my self first.Din. Would'st thou endure thy Mistris be taken from thee,And thou sit quiet?Cler. There you touch my honour,No French-man can endure that.Di[n]. Pl– upon thee,Why dost thou talk of Peace then? that dar'st sufferNothing, or in thy self, or in thy friendThat is unmanly?Cler. That I grant, I cannot:But I'le not quarrel with this GentlemanFor wearing stammel Breeches, or this GamesterFor playing a thousand pounds, that owes me nothing;For this mans taking up a common WenchIn raggs, and lowsie, then maintaining herCaroach'd in cloth of Tissue, nor five hundredOf such like toyes, that at no part concern me;Marry, where my honour, or my friend is questioned,I have a Sword, and I think I may use itTo the cutting of a Rascals throat, or so,Like a good Christian.Din. Thou art of a fine Religion,And rather than we'l make a Schism in friendshipI will be of it: But to be serious,Thou art acquainted with my tedious love-suitTo fair Lamira?Cler. Too well Sir, and rememberYour presents, courtship, that's too good a name,Your slave-like services, your morning musique;Your walking three hours in the rain at midnight,To see her at her window, sometimes laugh'd at,Sometimes admitted, and vouchsaf'd to kissHer glove, her skirt, nay, I have heard, her slippers,How then you triumph'd?Here was love forsooth.Din. These follies I deny not,Such a contemptible thing my dotage made me,But my reward for this—Cler. As you deserv'd,For he that makes a goddess of a Puppet,Merits no other recompence.Din. This day friend,For thou art so—Cler. I am no flatterer.Din. This proud, ingratefull she, is married toLame Champernel.Cler. I know him, he has beenAs tall a Sea-man, and has thriv'd as well by't,The loss of a legg and an arm deducted, as anyThat ever put from Marseilles: you are tame,Pl– on't, it mads me; if it were my case,I should kill all the family.Din. Yet but nowYou did preach patience.Cler. I then came from confession,And 'twas enjoyn'd me three hours for a penance,To be a peaceable man, and to talk like one,But now, all else being pardon'd, I beginOn a new Tally, Foot do any thing,I'le second you.Din. I would not willinglyMake red, my yet white conscience, yet I purposeIn the open street, as they come from the Temple,(For this way they must pass,) to speak my wrongs,And do it boldly.                     [Musick playes.Cler. Were thy tongue a Cannon,I would stand by thee, boy, they come, upon 'em.Din. Observe a little first.Cler. This is fine fidling.

Enter Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, Nurse, Beaupre, Verdone. An Epithalamium.

SONG at the WeddingCome away, bring on the BrideAnd place her by her Lovers side:You fair troop of Maids attend her,Pure and holy thoughts befriend her.Blush, and wish, you Virgins all,Many such fair nights may fall.ChorusHymen, fill the house with joy,All thy sacred fires employ:Bless the Bed with holy love,Now fair orb of Beauty move.Din. Stand by, for I'le be heard.Verta. This is strange rudeness.Din. 'Tis courtship, ballanced with injuries,You all look pale with guilt, but I will dyYour cheeks with blushes, if in your sear'd veinsThere yet remain so much of honest bloodTo make the colour; first to ye my Lord,The Father of this Bride, whom you have sentAlive into her grave.Champ. How? to her grave?Dina. Be patient Sir, I'le speak of you anonYou that allow'd me liberal access,To make my way with service, and approv'd ofMy birth, my person, years, and no base fortune:You that are rich, and but in this held wise too,That as a Father should have look'd uponYour Daughter in a husband, and aim'd moreAt what her youth, and heat of blood requir'dIn lawfull pleasures, than the parting fromYour Crowns to pay her dowr: you that alreadyHave one foot in the grave, yet study profit,As if you were assur'd to live here ever;What poor end had you, in this choice? in whatDeserve I your contempt? my house, and honoursAt all parts equal yours, my fame as fair,And not to praise my self, the City ranks meIn the first file of her most hopefull Gentry:But Champernel is rich, and needs a nurse,And not your gold: and add to that, he's old too,His whole estate in likelihood to descendUpon your Family; Here was providence,I grant, but in a Nobleman base thrift:No Merchants, nay, no Pirats, sell for BondmenTheir Country-men, but you, a Gentleman,To save a little gold, have sold your DaughterTo worse than slaverie.Cler. This was spoke home indeed.Beau. Sir, I shall take some other time to tell you,That this harsh language was delivered toAn old man, but my Father.Din. At your pleasure.Cler. Proceed in your design, let me alone,To answer him, or any man.Verd. You presumeToo much upon your name, but may be couzen'd.Din. But for you, most unmindfull of my service,For now I may upbraid you, and with honour,Since all is lost, and yet I am a gainer,In being deliver'd from a torment in you,For such you must have been, you to whom natureGave with a liberal hand most excellent form,Your education, language, and discourse,And judgement to distinguish, when you shallWith feeling sorrow understand how wretchedAnd miserable you have made your self,And but your self have nothing to accuse,Can you with hope from any beg compassion?But you will say, you serv'd your Fathers pleasure,Forgetting that unjust commands of ParentsAre not to be obey'd, or that you are rich,And that to wealth all pleasure else are servants,Yet but consider, how this wealth was purchas'd,'Twill trouble the possession.Champ. You Sir knowI got it, and with honour.Din. But from whom?Remember that, and how: you'l come indeedTo houses bravely furnish'd, but demandingWhere it was bought, this Souldier will not lie,But answer truly, this rich cloth of ArrasI made my prize in such a Ship, this PlateWas my share in another; these fair Jewels,Coming a shore, I got in such a Village,The Maid, or Matron kill'd, from whom they were ravish'd,The Wines you drink are guilty too, for this,This Candie Wine, three Merchants were undone,These Suckets break as many more: in brief,All you shall wear, or touch, or see, is purchas'dBy lawless force, and you but revel inThe tears, and grones of such as were the owners.Champ. 'Tis false, most basely false.Verta. Let losers talk.Din. Lastly, those joyes, those best of joyes, which HymenFreely bestows on such, that come to tyeThe sacred knot be blesses, won unto itBy equal love, and mutual affection,Not blindly led with the desire of riches,Most miserable you shall never taste of.This Marriage night you'l meet a Widows bed,Or failing of those pleasures all Brides look for,Sin in your wish it were so.Champ. Thou art a Villain,A base, malitious slanderer.Cler. Strike him.Din. No, he is not worth a blow.Champ. O that I had theeIn some close vault, that only would yield roomTo me to use my Sword, to thee no hopeTo run away, I would make thee on thy knees,Bite out the tongue that wrong'd me.Verta. Pray you have patience.Lamira. This day I am to be your Soveraign,Let me command you.Champ. I am lost with rage,And know not what I am my self, nor you:Away, dare such as you, that love the smokeOf peace more than the fire of glorious War,And like unprofitable drones, feed onYour grandsires labours, that, as I am now,Were gathering Bees, and fill'd their Hive, this CountryWith brave triumphant spoils, censure our actions?You object my prizes to me, had you seenThe horrour of a Sea-fight, with what dangerI made them mine; the fire I fearless fought in,And quench'd it in mine enemies blood, which straightLike oyle pour'd out on't, made it burn anew;My Deck blown up, with noise enough to mockThe lowdest thunder, and the desperate foolsThat Boorded me, sent, to defie the tempestsThat were against me, to the angrie Sea,Frighted with men thrown o're; no victory,But in despight of the four Elements,The Fire, the Air, the Sea, and sands hid in itTo be atchiev'd, you would confess poor men,(Though hopeless, such an honourable wayTo get or wealth, or honour) in your selvesHe that through all these dreadfull passagesPursued and overtook them, unaffrighted,Deserves reward, and not to have it stil'dBy the base name of theft.Din. This is the Courtship,That you must look for, Madam.Cler. 'Twill do well,When nothing can be done, to spend the night with:Your tongue is sound good Lord, and I could wishFor this young Ladyes sake this leg, this arm,And there is something else, I will not name,(Though 'tis the only thing that must content her)Had the same vigour.Champ. You shall buy these scoffsWith your best blood: help me once noble anger,(Nay stir not, I alone must right my self)And with one leg transport me, to correctThese scandalous praters: O that noble wounds                     [Falls.Should hinder just revenge! D'ye jear me too?I got these, not as you do, your diseasesIn Brothels, or with riotous abuseOf wine in Taverns; I have one leg shot,One arm disabled, and am honour'd more,By losing them, as I did, in the faceOf a brave enemy, than if they wereAs when I put to Sea; you are French-men only,In that you have been laied, and cur'd, goe to:You mock my leg, but every bone about you,Makes you good Almanack-makers, to foretellWhat weather we shall have.Din. Put up your Sword.Cler. Or turn it to a Crutch, there't may b[e] usefull,And live on the relation to your WifeOf what a brave man you were once.Din. And tell her,What a fine vertue 'tis in a young LadyTo give an old man pap.Cler. Or hire a SurgeonTo teach her to roul up your broken limbs.Din. To make a Pultess, and endure the scentOf oils, and nasty Plasters.Verta. Fie Sir, fie,You that have stood all dangers of all kinds, toYield to a Rivalls scoffe?Lamira. Shed tears uponYour Wedding day? this is unmanly Gentlemen.Champ. They are tears of anger: O that I should liveTo play the woman thus! All powerfull heaven,Restore me, but one hour, that strength again,That I had once, to chastise in these menTheir folies, and ill manners, and that done,When you please, I'le yield up the fort of life,And do it gladly.Cler. We ha' the better of him,We ha' made him cry.Verdo. You shall have satisfaction.And I will do it nobly, or disclaim me.Beaup. I say no more, you have a Brother, Sister,This is your wedding day, we are in the street,And howsoever they forget their honour,'Tis fit I lose not mine, by their example.Vert. If there be Laws in Paris, look to answerThis insolent affront.Cler. You that live by them,Study 'em for heavens sake; for my part I know notNor care not what they are. Is the[re] ought elseThat you would say;Din. Nothing, I have my ends.Lamira weeps, I have said too much I fear;So dearly once I lov'd her, that I cannotEndure to see her tears.                     [Exeunt Dinant, and Cleremont.Champ. See you perform it,And do it like my Nephew.Verdo. If I fail in'tNe'r know me more, Cousin Beaupre.Champ. Repent notWhat thou hast done, my life, thou shalt not findI am decrepit; in my love and service,I will be young, and constant, and believe me,For thou shalt find it true, in scorn of allThe scandals these rude men have thrown upon meI'le meet thy pleasures with a young mans ardour,And in all circumstances of a Husband,Perform my part.Lamira. Good Sir, I am your servant,And 'tis too late now, if I did repent,(Which as I am a virgin yet, I do not)To undoe the knot, that by the Church is tyed.Only I would beseech ye, as you haveA good opinion of me, and my vertues,For so you have pleas'd to stile my innocent weakness,That what hath pass'd be[t]ween Dinant and me,Or what now in your hearing he hath spoken,Beget not doubts, or fears.Champ. I apprehend you,You think I will be jealous; as I liveThou art mistaken sweet; and to confirm itDiscourse with whom thou wilt, ride where thou wilt,Feast whom thou wilt, as often as thou wilt,For I will have no other guards upon theeThan thine own thoughts.Lamira. I'le use this libertyWith moderation Sir.Beaup. I am resolv'd.Steal off, I'le follow you.Champ. Come Sir, you droop;Till you find cause, which I shall never give,Dislike not of your Son in Law.Verta. Sir, you teach meThe language I should use; I am most happyIn being so near you.                     [Exeunt Verdone, and Beaupre.Lamira. O my fears! good nurseFollow my Brother unobserv'd, and learnWhich way he takes.Nurs. I will be carefull Madam.                     [Exit Nurse.Champ. Between us complements are superfluous,On Gentlemen, th' affront we have met hereWe'l think upon hereafter, 'twere unfitTo cherish any thought to breed unrest,Or to our selves, or to our Nuptial feast.                     [Exeunt.

Enter Dinant, and Cleremont.

Cler. We shall have sport, ne'r fear't.Din. What sport I prethee?Cler. Why we must fight, I know it, and I long for't,It was apparent in the fiery eyeOf young Verdone, Beaupre look'd pale and shook too,Familiar signs of anger. They are both brave fellowsTri'd and approv'd, and I am proud to encounterWith men, from whom no honour can be lost;They will play up to a man, and set him off.When e're I go to the field, heaven keep me fromThe meeting of an unflesh'd youth or, Coward,The first, to get a name, comes on too hot,The Coward is so swift in giving ground,There is no overtaking him withoutA hunting Nag, well breath'd too.Din. All this while,You ne'r think on the danger.Cler. Why 'tis no moreThan meeting of a dozen friends at Supper,And drinking hard; mischief comes there unlook'd for,I am sure as suddain, and strikes home as often,For this we are prepar'd.Din. Lamira LovesHer Brother Beaupre dearly.Cler. What of that?Din. And should he call me to account for whatBut now I spake, nor can I with mine honourRecant my words, that little hope is left me,E're to enjoy what (next to Heaven) I long for,Is taken from me.Cer. Why what can you hope for,She being now married?Din. Oh my Cleremont,To you all secrets of my heart lye open,And I rest most secure that whatsoe'reI lock up there, is as a private thought,And will no farther wrong me. I am a French-man,And for the greater part we are born Courtiers,She is a woman, and however yet,No heat of service had the power to meltHer frozen Chastity, time and opportunitieMay work her to my ends, I confess ill ones,And yet I must pursue 'em: now her marriage,In probabilitie, will no way hurt,But rather help me.Cler. Sits the wind there? pray you tell meHow far off dwells your love from lust? Din. Too near,But prethee chide me not.Cler. Not I, goe on boy,I have faults my self, and will not reprehendA crime I am not free from: for her Marriage,I do esteem it (and most batchellors areOf my opinion) as a fair protection,To play the wanton without loss of honour.Din. Would she make use of't so, I were most happy.Cler. No more of this. Judge now,Whether I have the gift of prophecie.

Enter Beaupre, and Verdone.

Beaup. Monsieur Dinant,I am glad to find you, Sir.Din. I am at your service.Verd. Good Monsieur Cleremont, I have long wish'dTo be known better to you.Cler. My desiresEmbrace your wishes Sir.Beaup. Sir, I have everEsteem'd you truly noble, and professI should have been most proud, to have had the honourTo call you Brother, but my Fathers pleasureDenied that happiness. I know no man lives,That can command his passions, and thereforeDare not condemn the late intemperate languageYou were pleas'd to use to my Father and my Sister,He's old and she a woman, I most sorrieMy honour does compel me to entreat you,To do me the favour, with your sword to meet meA mile without the Citie.Din. You much honour me.In the demand, I'le gladly wait upon you.Beaup. O Sir you teach me what to say: the time?Din. With the next Sun, if you think fit.Beaup. The place?Din. Near to the vineyard eastward from the Citie.Beaup. I like it well, this Gentleman if you pleaseWill keep me company. Cler. That is agreed on;And in my friends behalf I will attend him.Verd. You shall not miss my service.Beaup. Good day Gentlemen.                     [Ex. Beaup. and Verd.Din. At your Commandment.Cler. Proud to be your servants.I think there is no Nation under HeavenThat cut their enemies throats with complement,And such fine tricks as we do: If you haveAny few Prayers to say, this night you mayCall 'em to mind and use 'em, for my self,As I have little to lose, my care is less,So till to morrow morning I bequeath youTo your devotions; and those paid, but useThat noble courage I have seen, and weShall fight, as in a Castle.Din. Thou art all honour,Thy resolution would steel a Coward,And I most fortunate in such a Friend;All tenderness and nice respect of womanBe now far from me, reputation takeA full possession of my heart, and proveHonour the first place holds, the second Love.                     [Exeunt.

Enter Lamira, Charlote.

Lami. Sleeps my Lord still, Charlote?Char. Not to be wak'd.By your Ladiships cheerfull looks I well perceiveThat this night the good Lord hath beenAt an unusual service, and no wonderIf he rest after it.Lamira. You are very bold.Char. Your Creature Madam, and when you are pleas'dSadness to me's a stranger, your good pardonIf I speak like a fool, I could have wishtTo have ta'ne your place to night, had bold DinantYour first and most obsequious servant tastedThose delicates, which by his lethargieAs it appears, have cloy'd my Lord.Lamira. No, more. Char. I am silenc'd, Madam.Lamira. Saw you my nurse this morning?Charl. No Madam.Lamira. I am full of fears.                     [Knock within.Who's that?Charl. She you enquir'd for.Lamira. Bring her in, and leave me.                     [Exit Charlote.Now nurse what news?

Enter Nurse.

Nurse. O Ladie dreadfull ones.They are to fight this morning, there's no remedie.I saw my Lord your Brother, and VerdoneTake horse as I came by.Lamira. Where's Cleremont?Nurse. I met him too, and mounted.Lamira. Where's Dinant?Nurse. There's all the hope, I have staid him with a trick,If I have done well so.Lamira. What trick?Nurse. I told him,Your Ladiship laid your command upon him,To attend you presently, and to confirm it,Gave him the ring he oft hath seen you wear,That you bestowed on me: he waits withoutDisguis'd, and if you have that power in him,As I presume you have, it is in youTo stay or alter him.Lamira. Have you learnt the place,Where they are to encounter?Nurse. Yes 'tis whereThe Duke of Burgundie met Lewis th' eleventh.Lamir. Enough, I will reward thee liberally,                     [Exit Nurse.Goe bring him in: full dear I loved Dinant,While it was lawfull, but those fires are quench'dI being now anothers, truth forgive meAnd let dissimulation be no crime,Though most unwillingly I put it onTo guard a Brothers safetie.

Enter Dinant.