Act 2 — SCENE II.—A Chamber. A Table and Wine set out.

Enter Lorenzo.

Lor. This may hit; 'tis more than barely possible; for friars have free admittance into every house. This jacobin, whom I have sent to, is her confessor; and who can suspect a man of such reverence for a pimp? I'll try for once; I'll bribe him high; for commonly none love money better than they, who have made a vow of poverty.

Enter Servant.

Serv. There's a huge, fat, religious gentleman coming up, sir. He says he's but a friar, but he's big enough to be a pope; his gills are as rosy as a turkey cock's; his great belly walks in state before him, like an harbinger; and his gouty legs come limping after it: Never was such a ton of devotion seen.

Lor. Bring him in, and vanish.[Exit Servant.

Enter Father Dominick.

Lor. Welcome, father.

Dom. Peace be here: I thought I had been sent for to a dying man; to have fitted him for another world.

Lor. No, faith, father, I was never for taking such long journeys. Repose yourself, I beseech you, 411 sir, if those spindle legs of yours will carry you to the next chair.

Dom. I am old, I am infirm, I must confess, with fasting.

Lor. 'Tis a sign by your wan complexion, and your thin jowls, father. Come, to our better acquaintance:—here's a sovereign remedy for old age and sorrow. [Drinks.

Dom. The looks of it are indeed alluring: I'll do you reason.[Drinks.

Lor. Is it to your palate, father?

Dom. Second thoughts, they say, are best: I'll consider of it once again. [Drinks.] It has a most delicious flavour with it. Gad forgive me, I have forgotten to drink your health, Son, I am not used to be so unmannerly. [Drinks again.

Lor. No, I'll be sworn, by what I see of you, you are not:—To the bottom;—I warrant him a true church-man.—Now, father, to our business: 'tis agreeable to your calling; I do intend to do an act of charity.

Dom. And I love to hear of charity; 'tis a comfortable subject.

Lor. Being in the late battle, in great hazard of my life, I recommended my person to good Saint Dominick.

Dom. You could not have pitched upon a better; he's a sure card; I never knew him fail his votaries.

Lor. Troth, I also made bold to strike up a bargain with him, that, if I escaped with life and plunder, I would present some brother of his order with part of the booty taken from the infidels, to be employed in charitable uses.

Dom. There you hit him; Saint Dominick loves 412 charity exceedingly; that argument never fails with him.

Lor. The spoils were mighty; and I scorn to wrong him of a farthing. To make short my story; I inquired among the jacobins for an almoner, and the general fame has pointed out your reverence as the worthiest man:—here are fifty good pieces in this purse.

Dom. How, fifty pieces? 'tis too much, too much in conscience.

Lor. Here, take them, father.

Dom. No, in troth, I dare not; do not tempt me to break my vow of poverty.

Lor. If you are modest, I must force you; for I am strongest.

Dom. Nay, if you compel me, there's no contending; but, will you set your strength against a decrepit, poor, old man? [Takes the Purse.] As I said, 'tis too great a bounty; but Saint Dominick shall owe you another scape: I'll put him in mind of you.

Lor. If you please, father, we will not trouble him 'till the next battle. But you may do me a greater kindness, by conveying my prayers to a female saint.

Dom. A female saint! good now, good now, how your devotions jump with mine! I always loved the female saints.

Lor. I mean, a female, mortal, married-woman-saint: Look upon the superscription of this note; you know Don Gomez's wife. [Gives him a Letter.

Dom. Who? Donna Elvira? I think I have some reason; I am her ghostly father.

Lor. I have some business of importance with her, which I have communicated in this paper; but her husband is so horribly given to be jealous,—

Dom. Ho, jealous? he's the very quintessence of 413 jealousy; he keeps no male creature in his house; and from abroad he lets no man come near her.

Lor. Excepting you, father.

Dom. Me, I grant you; I am her director and her guide in spiritual affairs: But he has his humours with me too; for t'other day he called me false apostle.

Lor. Did he so? that reflects upon you all; on my word, father, that touches your copy-hold. If you would do a meritorious action, you might revenge the church's quarrel.—My letter, father,—

Dom. Well, so far as a letter, I will take upon me; for what can I refuse to a man so charitably given?

Lor. If you bring an answer back, that purse in your hand has a twin-brother, as like him as ever he can look; there are fifty pieces lie dormant in it, for more charities.

Dom. That must not be; not a farthing more, upon my priesthood.—But what may be the purport and meaning of this letter? that, I confess, a little troubles me.

Lor. No harm, I warrant you.

Dom. Well, you are a charitable man; and I'll take your word: my comfort is, I know not the contents; and so far I am blameless. But an answer you shall have; though not for the sake of your fifty pieces more: I have sworn not to take them; they shall not be altogether fifty. Your mistress—forgive me, that I should call her your mistress, I meant Elvira,—lives but at next door: I'll visit her immediately; but not a word more of the nine-and-forty pieces.

Lor. Nay, I'll wait on you down stairs.—Fifty pounds for the postage of a letter! to send by the church is certainly the dearest road in Christendom. [Exeunt.

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