John Fletcher - The Spanish Curate: A Comedy стр 6.

A pretious pair of youths! I must make toward'em.

Who's that? look it seems he would speak to us.
I hope a Marriage, or some Will to make, Diego.

My friend your business?

'Tis to that grave Gentleman;
Bless your good learning, Sir.

And bless you also,
He bears a promising face, there's some hope toward.

I have a Letter to your worship.

Well Sir,
From whence I pray you?

From Nova Hispania, Sir,
And from an ancient friend of yours.

'Tis well, Sir,
'Tis very well: the devil a-one I know there.

Take heed of a Snap, Sir, h'as a cozening countenance
do not like his way.

Let him goe forward.
Cantabit vacuus, They that have nothing fear nothing,
All I have to lose, Diego, is my learning,
And when he has gotten that, he may put it in a Nut shell.

Alonzo Tiveria, very well,
A very ancient friend of mine, I take it,
For till this hour I never heard his name yet.

You look, Sir, as if ye had forgot my Father.

No, no, I look, as I would remember him,
For that I never remembred, I cannot forget, Sir,
Alonzo Tiveria?

The same, Sir.

And now i'th' Indies?

Yes.

He may be any where,
For ought that I consider.

Think again, Sir,
You were Students both at one time in Salamanca,
And, as I take it, Chamber-fellows.

Ha?

Nay, sure you must remember.

Would I could.

I have heard him say, you were Gossips too.

Very likely,
You did not hear him say, to whom? for we Students
May oft-times over-reach our memories.
Do'st thou remember, Diego, this same Signiour?
Thou hast been mine these twenty years.

Remember?
Why this Fellow would make ye mad: Nova Hispania?
And Signiour Tiveria? what are these?
He may as well name ye Friends out of Cataya.
Take heed I beseech your worship: do you hear, (my friend?)
You have no Letters for me?

Not any letter,
But I was charged to doe my Fathers love
To the old honest Sexton Diego: are you he, Sir?

Ha? have I friends, and know 'em not? my name is Diego,
But if either I remember you or your Father,
Or Nova Hispania (I was never there Sir)
Or any kindred that you havefor heaven-sake, Master,
Let's cast about a little, and consider,
We may dream out our time.

It seems I am deceiv'd, Sir,
Yet, that you are Don Lopez all men tell me,
The Curate here, and have been some time, Sir,
And you the Sexton Diego, such I am sent to,
The letter tells as much: may be they are dead,
And you of the like names succeed: I thank ye Gentlemen,
Ye have done honestly, in telling truth,
I might have been forward else. For to that Lopez,
That was my Fathers friend, I had a charge,
(A charge of mony) to deliver (Gentlemen)
Five hundred Duckets, a poor small gratuity,
But since you are not he

Good Sir, let me think,
I pray ye be patient,
Pray ye stay a little,
Nay, let me remember, I beseech ye stay, Sir.

An honest noble friend, that sends so lovingly;
An old friend too; I shall remember sure, Sir.

Thou sayst true Diego.

'Pray ye consider quickly,
Doe, doe, by any means, me thinks already
A grave staid gentleman comes to my memory.

He's old indeed, sir.

With a goodly white Beard,
(For now he must be so: I know he must be)
Signior Alonzo, Master.

I begin to have him.

H'as been from hence, about some twenty years, sir.

Some five and twenty, sir.

You say most true, Sir,
Just to an hour; 'tis now just five and twenty,
A fine straight timber'd man, and a brave soldier,
He married: let me see,

De Castro's Daughter.

The very same.

Thou art a very Rascal.
De Castro is the Turk to thee, or any thing:
The Mony rubbs 'em into strange remembrances,
For as many Duckets more they would remember Adam.

Give me your hand, you are welcome to your country,
Now I remember plainly, manifestly,
As freshly, as if yesterdy I had seen him,
Most heartily welcome: sinfull that I am,
Most sinfull man! why should I lose this Gentleman?
This loving old Companion? we had all one soul, sir,
He dwelt here hard by, at a handsome