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220
THE BROKER OF BOGOTA

Your predecessors on Granada's throne,
Ne'er found a lack of gain; and, sooth to say,
I do remember when no mine could yield,
Though by a thousand Indians daily wrought,
So rich a revenue as the rod of state
In one man's hands, were but that man the viceroy.
Palm. Such was its wealth, and such may be again,
To him with heart to use it. But for myself,
I cannot stoop to use those under means,
That fill the purse of office; and I would gnaw
Sooner my food from off my barren trappings,
Than gild them vilely with the fruits of fraud,
Sales, bribes, exactions, and monopolies,
The rich dishonor of prerogative.
<I will this kingdom leave with no man's curse,
And no man's scorn; and to mine own land bear
Even the poor burden that I brought with me,
An honest pride and pure integrity.>
'Tis from this thought that I make use of thee,
Out of that lean estate I have, to win
Such gain as my necessities require,
And such as though my state must keep it secret,
I have no shame to grasp at.
Feb. Would indeed this principle should come with your successor.
Palm. I have some gold, which I would have you place
Even at what profitable trade you can,
But not in peril; for indeed it is
After some worthless antique lands in Spain,
The only portion I can give my son,
But now arrived in Bogota.
Feb. Your highness shall faithfully be served.
Palm. I doubt not that.
Soon as you will, some trusty messenger
Send to the court, and he shall bear the gold.
Feb. My son shall be despatched.
Palm. Your son, Baptista!
Feb. My son Francisco,—I dare assure your highness,
A trusty youth, and most unequalled son.
Palm. In sooth, I thought you meant his elder brother.
Feb. Francisco, please your grace,—an excellent boy,
<Mine only hope and comfort,—a dutiful son.>
It is a holiday, and the youths have left
Their prisoned warehouses, and look for mirth
In the gay squares and streets,—all but Francisco.
He hooks him at his desk, and still pores o'er
The weary mysteries of accounts, as though
Wisdom, as well as wealth, were writ among them.
Palm. A commendable zeal. But tell me, Febro,—
This should have been the elder brother's office.
Pardon me, Febro; but beshrew my heart,
I speak to thee in friendship, when I meddle
In family affairs. You are too harsh:
Indeed it is the towntalk, your severity
To your discarded son.
Feb. It is the towntalk!
The town will disobedience teach to children,
Then censure fathers, who do punish them.
This is the course, and justice of the town!
Palm. But still, men say, the penance you inflict
Is all too heavy for his boyish follies.
Feb. Follies! No doubt, they told your excellency
He idled at his task, sometimes made blunders,
Played truant oft, and sometimes laughed at chapel—
Such follies!
Palm. No, I must needs own, for truth,
They were of darker color,—running forth
With youths disorderly and riotous,
Unto the tavern and the gaming-house.
Feb. Riotous friends! Drinking, and gambling! Sir, these are such follies
In youth, as fraud and robbery in men;
And he who clouds his dawn of life with such
Shall have a fouller tempest for its close.
Palm. And yet these are such ills as gentleness