LETTER READ.

Signior Lopez, Since my arrival from Cordova to these parts, I have written divers Letters unto you, but as yet received no Answer of any (Good and very good) And although so great a forgetfulness might cause a want in my due correspondence, yet the desire I have still to serve you must more prevail with me (Better and better:  the devil a man know I yet) and therefore with the present occasion offered I am willing to crave a continuance of the favours, which I have heretofore received from you, and do recommend my Son Leandro the Bearer to you with request that he may be admitted in that Universitie till such time as I shall arrive at home; his studies he will make you acquainted withall; This kindness shall supply the want of your slackness:  And so heaven keep you.

     Yours

     Alonzo Tiveria.

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

     Lea.

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

     Lop.

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

     Lea.

     The same, Sir.

     Lop.

     And now i’th’ Indies?

     Lea.

     Yes.

     Lop.

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

     Lea.

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

     Lop.

     Ha?

     Lea.

     Nay, sure you must remember.

     Lop.

     Would I could.

     Lea.

     I have heard him say, you were Gossips too.

     Lop.

     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.

     Die.

     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?

     Lea.

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

     Di[e].