The Little French Lawyer Part 23

_Cham._ Do you thank me for't?

_La-writ._ As well as a beaten man can.

_Cham._ And do you promise me, To fall close to your trade again? leave brawling?

_La-writ._ If you will give me leave and life.

_Cham._ And ask this n.o.ble man forgiveness?

_La-writ._ Heartily.

_Cham._ Rise then, and get you gone, and let me hear of you As of an advocate new vampt; no more words, Get you off quickly, and make no murmurs, I shall pursue you else.

_La-writ._ I have done sweet Gentlemen. [_Exit._

_Verta._ But we forget our selves, our friends and Children.

_Cham._ We'l raise the country first, then take our fortunes. [_Exeunt._

_Enter one_ Gentleman, _and_ Lamira.

_1 Gent._ Shall I entreat for what I may command?

_Lam._ Think on my birth.

_1 Gent._ Here I am only n.o.ble, A King, and thou in my dominions, fool, A subject and a slave.

_Lam._ Be not a Tyrant, A ravisher of honour, gentle Sir, And I will think ye such, and on my knees, As to my Soveraign, pay a Subjects duty, With prayers and tears.

_1 Gent._ I like this humble carriage, I will walk by, but kneel you still and weep too, It shews well, while I meditate on the prey, Before I seize it.

_Lam._ Is there no mercie, Heaven?

_Enter second_ Gent. _and_ Anabel.

_2 Gent._ Not kiss you?

I will kiss and kiss again.

_Ana._ Savage villain!

My Innocence be my strength, I do defie thee, Thus scorn and spit at thee; will you come on Sir?

You are hot, there is a cooler.

_2 Gent._ A virago?

_Ana._ No, loathsome Goat, more, more, I am that G.o.ddess, That here with whips of steel in h.e.l.l hereafter Scourge rape and theft.

_2 Gent._ I'le try your deity.

_Ana._ My chast.i.ty, and this knife held by a Virgin, Against thy l.u.s.t, thy sword and thee a Beast, Call on for the encounter.

_2 Gent._ Now what think you? [_Throws her and taks her Knife._ Are you a G.o.ddess?

_Ana._ In me their power suffers, That should protect the Innocent.

_1 Gent._ I am all fire, And thou shall quench it, and serve my pleasures.

Come partner in the spoil and the reward, Let us enjoy our purchase.

_Lam._ O _Dinant_!

O Heaven! O Husband!

_Ana._ O my _Cleremont_!

_1 Gent._ Two are our slaves they call on, bring 'em forth As they are chain'd together, let them see And suffer in the object.

_Enter_ Dinant, _and_ Cleremont, _bound by the rest of the Gent_.

_2 Gent._ While we sit And without pity hear 'em.

_Cler._ By my life, I suffer more for thee than for my self.

_Din._ Be a man _Cleremont_, and look upon 'em As such that not alone abus'd our service, Fed us with hopes most bitter in digestion, But when love fail'd, to draw on further mischief, The baits they laid for us, were our own honours, Which thus hath made us slaves too, worse than slaves.

_2 Gent._ He dies.

_1 Gent._ Pray hold, give him a little respite.

_Din._ I see you now beyond expression wretched, The wit you brag'd of fool'd, that boasted honour, As you believ'd compa.s.s'd with walls of bra.s.s, To guard it sure, subject to be o'rethrown With the least blast of l.u.s.t.

_Lam._ A most sad truth.

_Din._ That confidence which was not to be shaken In a perpetual fever, and those favours, Which with so strong and Ceremonious duty Your lover and a Gentleman long sought for, Sought, sued, and kneel'd in vain for, must you yield up To a licentious villain, that will hardly Allow you thanks for't.

_Cler._ Something I must say too, And to you pretty one, though crying one; To be hang'd now, when these worshipful benchers please, Though I know not their faces that condemn me, A little startles me, but a man is nothing, A Maidenhead is the thing, the thing all aim at; Do not you wish now, and wish from your heart too, When scarce sweet with my fears, I long lay by you Those fears you and your good Aunt put upon me, To make you sport, you had given a little hint, A touch or so, to tell me I was mortal, And by a mortal woman?

_Ana._ Pray you no more.

_Cler._ If I had loos'd that virgin Zone, observe me, I would have hired the best of all our Poets To have sung so much, and so well in the honour Of that nights joy, that _Ovids_ afternoon, Nor his _Corinna_ should again be mention'd.

_Ana._ I do repent, and wish I had.

_Cler._ That's comfort, But now--

_2 Gent._ Another that will have it offer'd, Compel it to be offer'd, shall enjoy it.

_Cler._ A rogue, a ruffian.

_2 Gent._ As you love your throat,--

_1 Gent._ Away with them.