Early Modern Drama · Character Archetypes

ELICIA

in The Spanish Bawd (Calisto and Meliboea) (Celestina) — Mabbe, James, trans.; Rojas, Fernando de

Metadata

PlayThe Spanish Bawd (Calisto and Meliboea) (Celestina)
AuthorMabbe, James, trans.; Rojas, Fernando de
Year (catalogued)1631
First performance1631
Decade1630s
GenreLiterary Tragicomedy
Play typeCloset Translation
Speech prefix(es)Elicia. | E Licia.
Words4721
Characters24000
Typicality0.23 (cosine to cluster centroid)
TCP idA18331
BritDrama no.1149
ClusterCluster 10 — Mourners, mothers & doleful voices

Important excerpts

Passages from this character's speech that contain the most distinguishing words for Cluster 10 (earine, jarbus, alack, vapours, mishap, hapless…). Matches are highlighted.

they being mightily enraged, on the one side necessity did urge them, which rends and breaks all the love in the world; on the oh there side, the great anger and weariness they brought thither with them, which many times works and alteration in us. And beside, they saw that they were forsaken in their fairest Hope's, she break king

Full speech

Oh hush; peace, peace. Peace, I say, for here is Crito. Crito, come hither, come hither, quickly; Oh my cou sin is come, my cousin is beneath; What shall I do? Come quickly, I am undone else. Who, mother? Oh, how my heart rises How And what of him? Wh ! Three days? Three whole days away? And in all that time not so much as once come and see me? Not once upon me? Fortune never look on thee; never comfort thee, thee: Woe to that woman, wretched as he is, who in her hope, and the end of all her happiness. Who is it? One of my sweet hearts. Nay, it is true: Go up and see else. and see her, but see you come at Go, go, be gone, ungrateful, unthankful as thou art, and away three years more if thou wilt, ere ever thou see me. I will bless my self; Sempronio, come; I will make a eake in the water, I will score it up. This is news indeed: I had thought to have strewed green rushes against your coming. What? Come hither twice? Twice in one day? Gone? yes; and another come, since she went, and gone too. How? in vain? No by my faith was it not; it was not I valve; for though he came late, yet better late then never. And little needs he to rise early, whom his stars have a purpose to help. It is not here, mother; you never remember where you lay your things. Take it to you (mother.) Lo, here it is; while you stay here, I will go up, and take my Sempronio with me. The dog barks. The old Witch comes hobbling home. Who is there? who knocks at door? Is this a time to come in? You are disposed still to be out thus a nights. To what end (I trow) walk you thus late? What a long time (mother) have you been away? What do you mean by it? You can never find the way home, when you are once a broad: but it is your old wont, you cannot leave it; and so as you may pleasure one, you care not and you leave a hundred disconten ted: you have been sought after to day, by the father of her that was betrothed, which you brought from the Prebendary upon Easter day, whom he is purposed to marry within these three days, and you must needs help her, according as you promised, that her hus band may not find her virginity cracked. Remember no such matter? Sure, you have forgotten your self. Oh! what a weak memory have you? Why, your self told me of it, when you took her hence; and that you had renewed her maidenhead seven times at the least. See whither he will return or no? He hath given you a bracelet of Gold, as a pledge for your pains: and will he not then return again? No marvel; for many times, (as it is in the Proverb) a good Scholar goes beyond his Master; and it is all in the will and desire of him that is to learn; for no Science can be well employ ed on him, who hath not a good mind and affection thereunto. But I had as lief die, as go about it. I am sick (me thinks) when I set my self to it; and you are never well, but when you are at it. Pray let us leave off this melancholy talk; now is now; and then is then. When time serves, we will follow your counsel; but now let us take our pleasure, while we may. As long as we have meat for to day, let us not think on to morrow: Let to morrow care for it self; as well die he that gathers much, as he that lives but poorly; the Master, as the servant; he that is of a Noble Lineage, as he that is of a meaner stock: and thou with thy art, as well as I without it; we are not to live for ever: and therefore let us laugh and be merry, for few are they that come to see old age; and they who do see it, seldom die of hunger. I desire nothing in this world, but meat, drink, and clothing, and a partly in pleasure. And though rich men have better means to attain to this glory, then he that hath but little; yet there is not one of them that is contented, not one that says to himself, I have enough. There is not one of them, with whom I would exchange my pleasures for their riches. But let us leave other men's thoughts and cares to themselves; and let us go sleep, for it is time; and a good found sleep without fear, will fat me more, and do me more good, then all the Treasure and wealth or Venice. Would they would never have come hither for me. Oh! it is a fine time of day! is this a fit hour, when you have invited your friends, to a feast? You have made my cousin to wait here these three long hours: but this same lazy-gut ( Sempronio ) was the cause I warrant you, of all this stay; for he has no eyes to look upon me. I, it is well, you are ready at all times to fit down, and eat, as soon as the cloth is laid, with a clean pair of hands, but a shameless face. Get thee out of my sighed, thou distasteful companion, thou disturber of my mirth; the Devil choke thee with that thou hast eaten. Thou hast given me my dinner for to day; now as I live, I am ready to rid my stomach, and to cast up all that I have in my bo die, to hear that thou shouldst call her fair and courteous, lovely, and gentle. I pray thee how fair, how lovely, how courteous, how gentle is she? It anger's me to the heartblood, to see you have so little shame with you. How gentle, how fair is she, more then oh there women? Believe me, if she be as thou reportest her; nay, if she have any jot in her of beauty, or any the least gracefulness. But I there are some eyes, that make oh difference betwixt one, and my Lady, and that it is with every one as he likes, as the good man said, when he kissed his Cow. Draff I perceive is good enough for Swine. I will cross my self in pity of thy great ignorance, and want of judgement Who I pray, had any mind to dispute with you, touching her beauty, and her gentleness? Gentle Melibea? Fair Melibea? And is Melibea so gentle, is she so fair as you make her to be? Then it must be so; and then shall both these hit right in her, when two Sundays come together. All the beauty she hath, may be bought at every Pedlars, or Painters shop for a penny mat ter, or the Like trifle: and believe me, I my self, upon mine own knowledge, know, that in that very street where she wells, there are four maidens at the least, if not more, to whom Nature hath imparted a greater partly of beauty, and other good graces in greater abundance, then she hath on Melibea; and if she have any jot of handsomeness in her, she may thank her good clothes; her neat dressings, and costly Jewels, which if they were hung upon a post, thou wouldst as well say by that too, that it were fair and gentle; and by my say (be it spoken without os entation) I think my penny to be as good silver as hers; and that I am every way as fair as your Melibea. With this condition, that my meat may be may poison; and that my belly may burst with that I eat. Shall I fit down and eat with this wicked Villain, that hath stoutly maintained it to my face, and no body must say him nay, That Melibea: That Dish clout of his, is fairer then I? The necessity which I have imposed upon my self, to please thee in all things, and in all thy requests, makes me against my will, to give contentment to this enemy of mine; and to carry my self out of my respect to this good company more fairly to wards him, then otherwise I would. What dost thou laugh at? Now the evil Canker eat and consume that unpleasing and offensive mouth of thine. Who knocks? How chance you come so late? It is not well done of you (being and old woman, as you are) for you may hap to stumble, where you may so fallen, that it may be your death. Why should it grieve me? It is some four hours ago, since they went hence; and would you have me to think on that now? Ah woe is me! put up your Sword; hold him, hold him, Parmeno; for fear lest the fool should kill her in his madness. Oh cruel-hearted as you are! Enemies in the highest nam ture; shame and confusion light upon you; the extremity of Ju stice fallen upon you, with it's greatest vigour, and all those that have had a hand in it. My mother is dead, and with her, all my happiness. I will in, for that is no true found of sorrow, which sends forth threatenings and revilings. Great sorrow, great lose; that which I show, is but little to that which I feel and conceal. My heart is blacker then my mantle; my bowels, then my veil. Ah, Cousin, Cousin; I am not able to speak through hoarseness; I cannot for sobbing, send my words from out my breast. Ay, my Cousin! my deer Love, Sempronio and Parmeno are now no more; they live not; they are no longer of this world; dead, alas they are dead. There is yet more ill news to come unto thine ears. Listen well to this woeful wight, and she shall tell thee a longer Tale of woe; thy sorrows have not yet their end; Celestina, she whom thou knewest well; she whom I esteemed as my Mother; she who did cocker me as her child, she who did cover all my infirmities; she, who made me to be honoured amongst my equals; she by whose means I was known thorough all the City and suburbs of the same, stands now rendering up and account of all her works. I saw her with these eyes stabbed in a thousand places. They slew her in my lap, I folding her in mine arms. You shall know. I am sure (Cousin) you have already herd tell of the love betwixt Calisto and that fool Melibea. And you likewise saw how Celestina, at the intercession of Sempronio, so as she might be paid for her pains, undertook the charge of that business, and to be the means to effect it for him; wherein she used such diligence, and was so careful in the following of it, that she drew water at the second spitting. Now when Calisto saw so good and so quick a dispatch, which he never hoped to have effected, amongst diverse other things, he gave this my un fortunate Aunt a chain of gold. And as it is the nature of that me tall, that that more we drink thereof, the more we thirst; she, when she saw her self so rich, appropriated the whole gain to her self, and would not let Sempronio and Parmeno have their parts, it being before agreed upon between them, that whatsoever Can listo gave her, they should share it alike. Now, they being come home weary one morning from accompanying their Master, with whom they had been abroad all night, being in great choler and heat, upon I know not what quarrels and brawls, (as they them selves said) that had betided them, they demanded partly of the chain of Celestina, for to relieve themselves therewith. She stood upon denial of any such covenant or promise made between them; affirming the whole gain to be endue to her; and discoue ring withal other petty matters of some secrecy. For, (as it in the Proverb) when Gossips brawl, then out goes all. So that they being mightily enraged, on the one side necessity did urge them, which rends and breaks all the love in the world; on the oh there side, the great anger and weariness they brought thither with them, which many times works and alteration in us. And beside, they saw that they were forsaken in their fairest Hope's, she break king her faith and promise with them: So that they knew not in the world what to do; and so continued a great while upon terms with her, some hard words passing to and from between them. But in the end perceiving her covetous disposition, and finding that she still persevered in her denial, they laid hands upon their swords, and hacked and hewed her in a thousand pieces. They, as soon as ever they had committed this foul murder; that they might avoid the Justice, the Alcalde passing by by chance at that very instant, made me no more ado, but leapt presently out at the windows; and being in a manner dead with the fallen, they presently apprehended them, and without any further delay, chopped off their heads. Oh! I grow mad. Oh wretch that I am, I am ready to run out of my wits! Ay me, there is not any bodies grief, that is Like to mine; there is not any body, that hath lost that which I have lost! Oh how much better, and more honest had my tears been in anon there persons passion, then mine own! whither shall I go? for I have lost both money, meat, drink, and clothes; I have lost my friend, and such a one, that had he been my husband, he could not have been more kind unto me. Oh thou wise Celestina, thou much honoured Matron, and of great authority; how often didst thou cover my faults by thy singular wisdom? Thou tookest pains, whilst I took pleasure; thou wentest abroad, whilst I stayed at home; thou wentest in tatters and rags, whilst I did ruffle in Silks and Satens; thou still camest home Like a Be, continually laden, whilst I did nothing but spend, and play the unthrift: for I knew not else what to do. Oh thou worldly happiness, and joy, which whilst thou art possessed, art the less esteemed! Nor'dost thou e ver let us know what thou art, till we know that thou art not; fin ding our lose, greater by wanting, then in enjoying thee; never knowing what we have, till we have thee not. Oh Calisto and Melibea, occasioners of so many death's! let some ill attend upon your love; let your sweet meat have some sour sauce; your pleasure, pain; let your joy be turned into mourning; the pleasant flowers whereon you took your stolen solace, let them be turned into Serpents and Snakes; your songs, let them be turned into howlings; the shady trees of the garden, let them be blasted and withered with your loo king on them; your sweet senting blossoms and buds, let them be black and dismal to behold. But by whom shall we mend our selves? Of whom shall we be revenged, when as her death, and those that slew her, have brought all this affliction and anguish upon me? Nor does the punishment of the delinquent less grieve me, then the error they committed. What would you have me to do, when as all the burr then lies upon my shoulders? I would with all my heart that I were now with them, that I might not lie here, to lament and be wail them all as I do. And that which grieves me most, is, to see that for all this, that Villain Calisto, who hath no sense, nor fee ling of his servants death's, goes every night to see and visit his filth Melibea, feasting and solacing himself in her company, whi lest she grows proud, glorying to see so much blood to be sacrifi ced to her service. Marry, I know (sweet Cousin) another companion of Parmeno's, Calisto's groom of the stable, whose name is Sosia, who accompanies him every night that he goes; I will see, what I can suck from him; and this (I suppose) will be a very good course for the matter you talk of. Bethink your self well, what you mean to do. For, I promise you, though I should do as you would have me, and should send Sosia unto you, yet can I not be persuaded that your de sire will take effect. For the punishment of those who lately suffered for disclosing their secrets, will make him seal up his lips, and look a little better to his life. Now for my coming to your house, and to dwell with you; as the offer is very kind, so I yield you the best kind of thanks I can render you; and Jove bless you for it, and help you in your necessity; for therein dost thou well show, that kindred and Alliance serve not for shadows, but ought rather to be profitable and helpful in adversity; and therefore, though I should be willing to do, as you would have me, in regard of that desire, which I have to enjoy your sweet company; yet can it not conveni ently be done, in regard of that lose which would light upon me; for I know, it cannot but be greatly to my hindrance; the reason there of I needs not to tell you, because I speak to one that is intelligent, and understands my meaning; for there, Cousin, where I am, I am well known; there am I well customed; that house will never loose the name of old Celestina; thither continually resort your young wenches bordering thereabouts, loving creatures, willing worms, and such as are best known abroad, being of half blood to those, whom Celestina bred up; there they driven all their bargains, and there they make their matches, and do many other things beside, (as you know well enough) whereby now and then I reap some profit. Beside, those few friends that I have, know not elsewhere to seek after me. Moreover, you are not ignorant, how hard a matter it is, to forgo that which we have been used unto; and to altar custo e, is as distasteful as death: A rolling stone never Gam the moss, and therefore I will abide where I am: And if for no other reason, yet will I stay there, because my house-rent is free, having a full year yet to come, and will not let it be lost, by lie king idle and empty; so that though every particular reason may not take place, yet when I weigh them altogether, I hope I shall est excused, and you contented. It is now high time for me to be gone; what we have talked of, I will take that charge upon me; and so farewell. I pray open it; it is Elicia. I hear some body at the door; we are too soon cut off from our discourse, for I was about to ask you, whither Sosia had been here or no? This poor silly fellow, this wretched son of a whore, to see how he exceeds himself, and speaks beyond the compass of his common wit! he does not use to talk thus wisely. He that should see him go to water his horses, riding on their bore ridge without a Saddle, and his naked legs hanging down beneath his Canvas frock, cut out into four quarters; and should now see him thus handsome, and well suited, both in his cloak, and other his clothes, it would give a man wings, and tongue; and make him crow, as this Cockrell does. No more (good man Ragge-tayle) it is enough, we needs no more. Cursed is he who makes such Muleteers acquainted with his secrets. The Blockhead hath swallowed the bait; he hath let her unhinge him. Oh wise wench! Oh what a proper dismission, well befit ting such and Ass, who hath so easily revealed his secrets. If you love me, come back again; I pray you do not you go, unless you mean to leave half your mantle behind you. I will hold you fast, indeed I will not let you go. I wonder, Cousin, what you mean by this? you seem to be wiser then I am. Tell me, what man is so foolish, or so void, of reason, that is not glad to be visited, especially by women? Come hither, Centurio; now trust me, I swear, she shall im brace thee, whither she will or no; if she will be angry, let her, I will bear the blame of it. So let me prosper, as his words do exceedingly please me; why, he is as obedient to you, as a servant; he speaks to you Like a Suppliant, and he hath said nothing, but what is reason. What would you more of a man? I prithee, as thou lovest me, speak unto him, and lay aside your displeasure; suffer him not to live thus sad and melancholy, but speak kindly unto him, and put him out of his dumps, since he offers his person so willingly to your disposal. But I pray, tell me, what did your sword, that your Grand father should gain his name by it? Was he by it made Captain of a hundred men? If you love me ( Areusa ) let not this matter be put into such a madmans hands; he is too bloody for the business: and it were better to let all alone, then that the City should receive such a scandal; so that our second harm shall be worse then the first. For loves sake would done, tell us of no more. Bastonado him, I pray thee: for I would have him beaten, but not slain. What ails my Cousin, that she cries, and takes on as she does? It may be she hath all ready herd of that ill news, which I came to bring her: if she have, I shall have no reward of her for my heavy tidings. So, weep, weep on, weep thy bellyful; let thine eyes break their banks, and overflow thy bosom with and eternal deluge; for two such men were not every where to be had; it is some ease yet unto me, that she so risents the matter, and hath so true a feeling of their death's. Do, tear, and rend thy hair, as (I poor soul) have done before thee: and think, and consider with thy self, that to fallen from a happy life, is more miserable then death it self. Oh how I hug her in my heart! How much more, then ever heretofore, do I now love her; that she can express her passion in such lively colours, and paint forth sorrow to it's perfect and true life! I do my self wrong, to mourn thus. Few do visit my house; few do pass this way. I can hear no music nor stirring betimes in the morning; I have no amorous ditties sung by my Lovers at my window; there are no frays, nor quarrels before my door; they do not cut and slash one another anights for my sake, as they were wont to do: and that which most of all grieves me, is, that I see neither penny nor farthing, nor any other present to come within my doors. But for this, can I blame no body but my self; my self only is in fault; for had I followed the counsel of her, who is my true and faithful Sister, when as I brought her the other day the news of this sad and heavy Accident, which hath brought all this penury upon me, I had not lived alone mured up between two walls; nor others loathed to have come, and seen me. The devil (I think) makes me to mourn thus for him, who, had I been dead, would scarce, perhaps, have shed one tear for me. Now I dare boldly say, that Areusa told me truth. Sister (quoth she) never conceive, nor show more sorrow for the misfortune, or death of another, then he would have done for thee. Sempronio, had I been dead, would have been never a whit the less merry, he would not have wronged-his delights, nor abridged his pleasures. And why then Like a fool should I grieve and vex my self, for one that is dead and gone, and hath lost his head by order of Law? And what can I tell, whither being a choleric and hastly-hayre brained fellow as he was, he might have killed me too, as well as he did that old woman, whom I reckoned of as of mine own mother? I will therefore by all means follow Arcusa's counsel, who knows more of the world then I do; and go new and then to visit her, that I may learn something from her, how I may live another day. Oh what a sweet participation will this be? what a delightful con versation? I see it is not said in vain; That of more worth is one day of a wise man, then the whole life of a fool; I will therefore put off my mourning weeds, lay aside my sorrow, dismiss my tears, which have hitherto been so ready to offer their service to my eyes. But since that it is the very first office that we do, as soon as we are born, to come crying into the world; I nothing wonder that it is so easy to begin to cry; and so hard to leave off. But this may teach one wit, by seeing the hurt it does to the eyes; by seeing that good clothes and neat dressings, make a woman seem ire and handsome, though she be nothing so, nor so; making her of old, young; and of young, younger. Your coloured paintings, and your Cerusses which give women such a pure white & read, what are they, but a slimy clinging thing, a kind of birdlime, wherewith men are taken and ensnared? Come then thou my glass, come him there again unto me; and thou to my Antimonium; for I have too much already wronged my eyes, & almost marred my face, with my blubbering & weeping. I will on with my white Vails, my wrought Gorgets, my gay Garments, my more pleasing Attire, and such other apparel, as shall speak pleasure. I will presently provide some Lie for my hair, which now through neglect, hath lost it's bright burnished hiew. And this being done, I will count my Hens, I will make up my bed: for it glads a woman's heart, to see things neat and handsome about her. I will have all well swept and made clean before my door, and the street that buts upon it, sprinkled with water, as well to keep it cool, as to lay the dust; to the end, that they who pass by, may plainly thereby perceive, that I have ba nisht all grief, and shaken hands with sorrow. But fi st of all, I will go and visit my Cousin, to know whither Sosia have been with her or no? And what good she hath done upon him? For I have not seen him; since I told him that Areusa would feign speak with him. I pray Jove, I may find her all alone; for she is seldom any more without Gallants, then a good Tavern is without drunkards; the door is shut, there should be no body within; I will knock, and see. Than, than, than. Who's at home here?

Plot summary

Plot — The Spanish Bawd (Calisto and Meliboea) (Celestina)
Looking for a lost hawk, Calisto meets Melibea in a garden and falls in love with her, but she rejects his attentions, thinking them presumptuous. His servant Sempronio tries to talk him out of love, and, having failed, agrees to help. He calls in the services of the bawd Celestina (partly to give him an excuse to visit Elicia, a prostitute, whom he himself loves), and she comes lo Calisto's house. There she meets another servant, Parmeno, who served her when he was a boy. She tells him that his dead mother entrusted her with the secret of where his inheritance is hidden, and promises him the love of Areusa, if he will leave his master and patch up his feud with Sempronio.Having paid for Celestina's assistance, Calisto becomes impatient and sends Sempronio to chivvy her. She casts a spell, creating an enchanted clew of yarn which will compel Melibea to love Calisto. She goes to Melibea's house and sells her the clew, but it does not have the desired effect: she tells Melibea about a sick man, and Melibea seems ready to take pity on him until she hears his name, whereupon she orders Celestina out of the house. Celestina insists that she was not procuring under cover of a metaphor: Calisto has a toothache and has sent her to fetch Melibea's magic girdle, which will cure it. Melibea agrees to send the girdle, but cannot write out the accompanying charm straight away; Celestina will have to return and collect it the following morning. Celestina reports to Calisto, asking for new clothes as her reward. Since it is now late at night, she also asks for a man to light her on her way home, and Parmeno is given the job. On the way home, she again tries to reconcile him with Sempronio, tells him she cannot give him his inheritance until he is older, and tells him stories about his mother. Learning of his love for Areusa, she offers to win her for him, and they stop off at Areusa's house. Feeling poorly, Areusa is going to bed, and is reluctant to see Parmeno, but Celestina leaves him there and goes home alone. He spends the night and much of the next morning with Areusa. Sex makes him better disposed towards Sempronio. Celestina is summoned to see Melibea, who is ill. In reality, as Celestina correctly diagnoses, she has fallen in love with Calisto. At her request, Celestina arranges a midnight assignation for them. Calisto keeps the date, but they have to talk through a locked door; after she has tested his sincerity by pretending to reject him, Melibea arranges a…