A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. IX - Various
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OLF. This is the time, and this the place appointed,
Where Visus promis'd to confer with me.
I think he's there--no, no, 'tis Tactus sure.
How now? what makes you sit so nicely?
TAC. 'Tis past imagination, 'tis so indeed.
OLF. How fast his hands[184] are fixed, and how melancholy he looks!
Tactus! Tactus!
TAC. For this is true, man's life is wondrous brittle.
OLF. He's mad, I think, he talks so idly. So ho, Tactus!
TAC. And many have been metamorphosed
To stranger matters and more uncouth forms.
OLF. I must go nearer him; he doth not hear.
TAC. And yet methinks, I speak as I was wont;
And--
OLF. Tactus, Tactus!
TAC. Olfactus, as thou lov'st me, come not near me.
OLF. Why, art thou hatching eggs? th'art afeard[185] to break them?
TAC. Touch me not, lest thou chance to break my life.
OLF. What's this under thee?
TAC. If thou meddle with me, I am utterly undone.
OLF. Why, man, what ails thee?
TAC. Let me alone, and I'll tell thee;
Lately I came from fine Phantastes' house.
OLF. So I believe, for thou art very foolish.
TAC. No sooner had I parted out of doors[186],
But up I held my hands before my face,
To shield mine eyes from th'light's piercing beams;
When I protest I saw the sun as clear
Through these my palms, as through a perspective.
No marvel; for when I beheld my fingers,
I saw my fingers were transform'd to glass;
Opening my breast, my breast was like a window,
Through which I plainly did perceive my heart:
In whose two concaves[187] I discern'd my thoughts
Confus'dly lodged in great multitudes.
OLF. Ha, ha, ha, ha! why, this is excellent,
Momus himself can find no fault with thee,
Thou'dst make a passing live anatomy;
And decide the question much disputed
Betwixt the Galenists and Aristotle.
TAC. But when I had arriv'd, and set me down
Viewing myself--myself, ay me! was changed,
As thou now seest, to a perfect urinal.
OLF. T'a perfect urinal? O monstrous, monstrous!
Art not mad to think so?
TAC. I do not think so, but I say I am so,
Therefore, Olfactus, come not near, I advise you.
OLF. See the strange working of dull melancholy!
Whose drossy thoughts, drying the feeble brain,
Corrupts the sense, deludes the intellect,
And in the soul's fair table falsely graves
Whole squadrons of fantastical chimeras
And thousand vain imaginations,
Making some think their heads as big as horses,
Some that th'are dead[188], some that th'are turn'd to wolves[189],
As now it makes him think himself all glass.
Tactus, dissuade thyself; thou dost but think so.
TAC. Olfactus, if thou lov'st me, get thee gone;
I am an urinal, I dare not stir
For fear of cracking in the bottom.
OLF. Wilt thou sit thus all day?
TAC. Unless thou help me.
OLF. Bedlam must help thee. What wouldst have me do?
TAC. Go to the city, make a case for me;
Stuff it with wool, then come again and fetch me.
OLF. Ha, ha, ha!
Thou'lt be laughed out of case and countenance.
TAC. I care not. So it must be, or I cannot stir.
OLF. I had best leave troubling him; he's obstinate. Urinal, I leave you,
but above all things take heed Jupiter sees you not; for, if he do, he'll
ne'er make water in a sieve again; thou'lt serve his turn so fit, to
carry his water unto Esculapius. Farewell, Urinal, farewell.
[_Exit_ OLFACTUS.
TAC. Speak not so loud; the sound's enough to crack me. What, is he
gone? I an urinal! ha, ha, ha! I protest I might have had my face washed
finely if he had meant to abuse me. I an urinal! ha, ha, ha! Go to,
Urinal; you have 'scaped a fair scouring. Well, I'll away, and get me to
mine own house; there I'll lock up myself fast, playing the chemic,
Augmenting this one crown to troops of angels,
With which gold-winged messengers I mean
To work great wonders, as to build and purchase;
Fare daintily; tie up men's tongues and loose them;
Command their lives, their goods, their liberties,
And captive all the world with chains of gold.
Hey, hey, tery, linkum tinkum.
[_He offers to go out, but comes in suddenly amazed_.
O Hercules!
Fortune, the queen, delights to play with me,
Stopping my passage with the sight of Visus:
But as he makes hither, I'll make hence,
There's more ways to the wood than one[190].
What, more devils to affright me?
O Diabolo! Gustus comes here to vex me.
So that I, poor wretch, am like
A shuttlecock betwixt two battledoors.
If I run there, Visus beats me to Scylla;
If here, then Gustus blows me to Charybdis.
Neptune hath sworn my hope shall suffer shipwreck.
What shall I say? mine Urinal's too thin
To bide the fury of such storms as these.
SCAENA OCTAVA.
VISUS _in a garland of bays, mixed with white and
red roses, a light-coloured taffeta mantle striped
with silver, and fringed upon green silk bases,
buskins, &c_. GUSTUS _in the same fashion, differing
only in colour_. TACTUS _in a corner of the stage_.
VISUS, GUSTUS, TACTUS.
VIS. Gustus, good day.
GUS. I cannot have a bad,
Meeting so fair an omen as yourself.
TAC. Shall I? will't prove? ha! well, 'tis best to venture.
[TACTUS _puts on the robes_.
GUS. Saw you not Tactus? I should speak with him.
TAC. Perchance so; a sudden lie hath best luck.
VIS. That face is his, or else mine eye's deceiv'd.
Why, how now, Tactus! what, so gorgeous?
GUS. Where didst thou get these fair habiliments?
TAC. Stand back, I charge you, as you love your lives;
By Styx, the first that toucheth me shall die.
VIS. I can discern no weapons. Will he kill us?
TAC. Kill you? not I, but come not near me,
You had best.
VIS. Why, art thou mad?
TAC. Friends, as you love your lives,
Venture not once to come within my reach.
GUS. Why dost threaten so?
TAG. I do not threaten,
But in pure love advise you for the best:
Dare not to touch me, but hence fly apace;
Add wings unto your feet, and save your lives.
VIS. Why, what's the matter, Tactus? prythee, tell me?
TAC. If you will needs jeopard your lives so long,
As hear the ground of my amazedness,
Then for your better safety stand aside.
GUS. How full of ceremonies! sure he'll conjure;
For such like robes magicians use to wear.
VIS. I'll see the end, though he should unlock hell,
And set th'infernal hags at liberty.
TAC. How rash is man on hidden harms[191] to rush!
It was my chance--O chance most miserable!--
To walk that way that to Crumena leads.
GUS. You mean Cremona, a little town hard-by.
TAC. I say Crumena, called Vacua,
A town which doth, and always hath belong'd,
Chiefly to scholars. From Crumena walls
I saw a man come stealing craftily,
Apparell'd in this vesture which I wear;
But, seeing me, eftsoons[192] he took his heels,
And threw his garment from him all in haste,
Which I perceiving to be richly wrought,
Took it me up; but, good, now get you gone,
Warn'd by my harms, and 'scape my misery.
VIS. I know no danger: leave these circumstances.
TAC. No sooner had I put it on my back,
But suddenly mine eyes began to dim,
My joints wex[193] sore, and all my body burn['d]
With most intestine torture, and at length
It was too evident, I had caught the plague.
VIS. The plague! away, good Gustus, let's be gone;
I doubt 'tis true, now I remember me,
Crumena Vacua never wants the plague.
GUS. Tactus, I'll put myself in jeopardy
To pleasure thee.
TAC. No, gentle Gustus,
Your absence is the only thing I wish,
Lest I infect you with my company.
GUS. Farewell. [_Exit_ GUSTUS.
VIS. I willingly would stay to do thee good.
TAC. A thousand thanks; but since I needs must die,
Let it suffice, death only murders me.
O, 'twould augment the dolour of my death,
To know myself the most unhappy bow,
Through which pale death should aim his shafts at you.
VIS. Tactus, farewell; yet die with this good hope,
Thy corpse shall be interred as it ought.
[_Exit_ VISUS.
TAC. Go, make my tomb, provide my funerals; ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Excellent asses thus to be deluded,
Bewail his death and cruel destinies,
That lives, and laughs your fooleries to scorn.
But where's my crown! O, here: I well deserve
Thus to be crown'd for two great victories!
Ha, ha, ha!
Visus, take care my corpse be well interr'd:
Go make my tomb, and write upon the stone,
_Here lies the Sense that living[194] gull'd them all
With a false plague and feigned urinal_.
SCAENA NONA.
AUDITUS, TACTUS.
AUD. Tactus, Tactus!
TAC. O Jupiter, 'tis Auditus, all's marred, I doubt: the sly knave
hears so far; but yet I'll grope him. How now, Ears[195], what make
you here, ha?
AUD. Nay, what make you here, I pray? What were you talking even now
of an ass, and a crown, and an urinal, and a plague?
TAC. A plague on you! what, I?
AUD. O, what you!
TAC. O, I had well-nigh forgot; nothing; but I say--
AUD. What?
TAC. That if a man (do you mark, sir?), being sick of the plague (do you
see, sir?), had a, a, a--hem, hem (this cold troubles me; it makes me
cough sometimes extremely)--had a French crown, sir, (you understand
me?) lying by him, and (come hither, come hither), and would not bestow
twopence (do you hear?) to buy an urinal (do you mark me?) to carry his
water to the physician, hem!
AUD. What of all this?
TAC. I say such a one was a very ass. This was all. I use to speak to
myself, when I am alone; but, Auditus, when shall we hear a new set of
singing-books? Or the viols? Or the concert of instruments?
AUD. This was not all, for I heard mention of a tomb and an epitaph.
TAC. True, true, I made myself merry with this epitaph upon such a
fool's tomb thus a--thus, thus: plague brought this man--foh, I have
forgotten--O, thus, plague brought this man (so, so, so), unto his
burial, because, because, because (hem, hem)--because he would not buy
an urinal. Come, come, Auditus, shall we hear thee play the lyreway or
the luteway, shall we? Or the cornet, or any music? I am greatly
revived, when I hear.
AUD. Tactus, Tactus, this will not serve; I heard all. You have not
found a crown, you? no, you have not!
SCAENA ULTIMA.
TACTUS, AUDITUS, VISUS, GUSTUS, MENDACIO.
TAC. Peace, peace, faith, peace; come hither, hark thee,
Good [Auditus], now.
AUD. I cannot hold, I must needs tell.
TAC. O, do not, do not, do not; come hither.
Will you be a fool?
VIS. Had he not wings upon his feet and shoulders?
MEN. Yes, yes, and a fine wand in his hand,
Curiously wrapped with a pair of snakes.
TAC. Will half content you? pish, 'twill ne'er be known.
GUS. My life, 'twas Mercury.
MEN. I do not know his name;
But this I'm sure, his hat had wings upon't.
VIS. Doubtless 'twas he; but say, my boy, what did he?
MEN. First I beheld him hovering in the air,
And then down stooping with an hundred gyres:[196]
His feet he fixed on Mount Cephalon;[197]
From whence he flew and lighted on that plain,
And with disdainful steps soon glided thither:
Whither arrived, he suddenly unfolds
A gorgeous robe and glittering ornament,
And lays them all upon that hillock:
This done, he wafts his wand, took wing again,
And in a moment vanish'd out of sight.
With that mine eyes 'gan stare, and heart grew cold,
And all my quiv'ring joints with sweat bedew'd:
My heels (methought) had wings as well as his,
And so away I ran; but by the way
I met a man, as I thought, coming thither.
GUS. What marks had he?
MEN. He had a great--what! this is he, this is he.
VIS. What, Tactus?
GUS. This was the plague vex'd him so:
Tactus, your grave gapes for you; are you ready?
VIS. Since you must needs die, do as others do,
Leave all your goods behind you; bequeath
The crown and robe to your executors.
TAC. No such matter; I, like the Egyptian kings,[198]
For the more state will be buried in them.
VIS. Come, come, deliver.
[VISUS _snatcheth the crown, and sees letters graven in it_.
TAC. What, will you take my purse from me?
VIS. No, but a crown, that's just more than your own.
Ha, what's this? 'tis a very small hand,
What inscription is this?
_He of the five that proves himself the best,
Shall have his temples with this coronet blest_.
This crown is mine, and mine this garment is;
For I have always been accounted best--
TAC. Next after me--high[199] as yourself at any time:
Besides, I found it first, therefore 'tis mine.
GUS. Neither of yours, but mine as much as both.
AUD. And mine the most of any of you all.
VIS. Give me it, or else--
TAC. I'll make you late repent it--
GUS. Presumptuous as you are--
AUD. Spite of your teeth--
MEN. Never till now. Ha, ha! it works apace. [_Aside_.
Visus, I know 'tis yours; and yet methinks,
Auditus, you should have some challenge to it;
But that your title, Tactus, is so good,
Gustus, I would swear the coronet were yours:
What, will you all go brawl about a trifle?
View but the pleasant coast of Microcosm,
Is't not great pity to be rent with wars?
Is't not a shame to stain with brinish tears
The smiling cheeks of ever-cheerful peace?
Is't not far better to live quietly,
Than broil in fury of dissension?
Give me the crown, ye shall not disagree,
If I can please you. I'll play Paris' part,
And, most impartial, judge the controversy.
VIS. Sauce-box! go meddle with your lady's fan,
And prate not here.
MEN. I speak not for myself,
But for my country's sole[200] commodity.
VIS. Sirrah, be still.
MEN. Nay, and you be so hot, the devil part you!
I'll to Olfactus, and send him amongst you.
O, that I were Alecto for your sakes!
How liberally would I bestow my snakes!
[_Exit_ MENDACIO.
VIS. Tactus, upon thine honour,
I challenge thee to meet me here,
Strong as thou canst provide, in th'afternoon.
TAC. I undertake the challenge, and here's my hand,
In sign thou shalt be answered.
GUS. Tactus, I'll join with thee, on this condition
That, if we win, he that fought best of us
Shall have the crown, the other wear the robe.
TAC. Give me your hand: I like the motion.
VIS. Auditus, shall we make our forces double
Upon the same terms?
AUD. Very willingly.
VIS. Come, let's away: fear not the victory;
Right's more advantage than an host of soldiers.
[_Exeunt omnes_.
ACTUS SECUNDUS, SCAENA PRIMA.
APPETITUS, _a long, lean, raw-boned fellow,
in a soldier's coat, a sword, &c_.
MENDACIO, APPETITUS.
MEN. I long to see those hotspur Senses at it: they say they have
gallant preparations, and not unlikely, for most of the soldiers are
ready in arms, since the last field fought against their yearly enemy
Meleager[201] and his wife Acrasia; that conquest hath so fleshed them,
that no peace can hold them. But had not Meleager been sick, and
Acrasia drunk, the Senses might have whistled for the victory.
APP. Foh, what a stink of gunpowder is yonder!
MEN. Who's this? O, O, 'tis Appetitus, Gustus's hungry parasite.
[_Aside_.]
APP. I cannot endure the smoking of guns, the thundering of drums: I
had rather hear the merry hacking of pot-herbs, and see the reeking of
a hot capon. If they would use no other bucklers in war but shields of
brawn, brandish no swords but sweards of bacon,[202] trail no spears
but spare-ribs of pork, and instead of arquebuss pieces discharge
artichoke-pies: toss no pikes but boiled pickrels, then Appetitus would
rouse up his crest, and bear up himself with the proudest.
MEN. Ah! here's a youth stark naught at a trench, but an old dog at a
trencher, a tall squire at a square table. [_Aside_.]
APP. But now my good masters must pardon me; I am not one for their
service, for their service is without service, and indeed their service
is too hot for my diet. But what, if I be not myself, but only this be
my spirit that wanders up and down, and Appetitus be killed in the camp?
the devil he is as soon. How's that possible? tut, tut, I know I am. I
am Appetitus, and alive, too--by this infallible token, that I feel
myself hungry.
MEN. Thou mightest have taken a better token of thyself, by knowing thou
art a fool. [_Aside_.]
APP. Well, then, though I made my fellow-soldiers admire the beauty of
my back, and wonder at the nimbleness of my heels, yet now will I, at
safety at home, tell in what dangers they are in abroad. I'll speak
nothing but guns and glaves,[203] and staves and phalanges,[204] and
squadrons and barricadoes, ambuscadoes, palmedoes, blank-point,
demi-point,[205] counterpoint, counterscarp, sallies and lies, saladoes,
tarantantaras, ranta, tara, tara, hey.
MEN. I must take the fife out of his mouth, or he'll ne'er ha' done.
[_Aside_.]
APP. But, above all, I'll be sure on my knees to thank the great--
[MENDACIO _blinds him_.
MEN. Who am I, who am I, who I?
APP. By the blood-stained falchion of Mavors,[206] I am on your side.
MEN. Why, who am I?
APP. Are you a soldier?
MEN. No.
APP. Then you are Master Helluo the bearward.
MEN. No, no; he's dead.
APP. Or Gulono the gutty serjeant, or Delphino the vintner, or else I
know you not; for these are all my acquaintance.
MEN. Would I were hanged, if I be any of these!
APP. What, Mendacio! By the faith of a knight, thou art welcome; I must
borrow thy whetstone, to sharpen the edges of my martial compliments.
MEN. By the faith of a knight! What a pox, where are thy spurs?[207]
APP. I need no spurs; I ride, like Pegasus, on a winged horse--on a
swift jennet, my boy, called Fear.
MEN. What shouldst thou fear in the wars? He's not a good soldier that
hath not a good stomach.
APP. O, but the stink of powder spoils Appetitus's stomach, and then
thou knowest, when 'tis gone, Appetitus is dead; therefore I very
manfully drew my sword, and flourished it bravely about mine ears,
hist![208] and finding myself hurt, most manfully ran away.
MEN. All heart indeed, for thou rann'st like a hart out of the field. It
seems, then, the Senses mean to fight it out.
APP. Ay, and outfight themselves, I think; and all about a trifle, a
paltry bauble found, I know not where.
MEN. Thou art deceived: they fight for more than that; a thing called
superiority, of which the crown is but an emblem.
APP. Mendacio, hang this superiority; crown me no crown, but Bacchus's
crown of roses; give me no sceptre but a fat capon's leg, to show that I
am the great king of Hungary! Therefore, I prythee, talk no more of
state-matters: but in brief, tell me, my little rascal, how thou hast
spent thy time this many a day.
MEN. Faith, in some credit, since thou sawest me last.
APP. How so? where?
MEN. Everywhere. In the court your gentlewomen hang me at their
apron-strings, and that makes them answer so readily. In the city I am
honoured like a god; none so well acquainted with your tradesmen. Your
lawyers, all the termtime, hire me of my lady; your gallants, if they
hear my name abused, they stab for my sake; your travellers so doat upon
me as passes.[209] O, they have good reason; for I have carried them to
many a good meal under the countenance of my familiarity. Nay, your
statesmen have oftentimes closely conveyed me under their tongues, to
make their policies more current. As for old men, they challenge my
company by authority.
APP. I am exceeding glad of your great promotion.
MEN. Now, when I am disposed, I can philosophy it in the university with
the subtlest of them all.
APP. I cannot be persuaded that thou art acquainted with scholars, ever
since thou wert pressed to death in a printing-house.
MEN. No? why, I was the first founder of the three sects of philosophy,
except one of the Peripatetics, who acknowledge Aristotle, I confess,
their great grandfather.
APP. Thou boy! how is this possible? Thou art but a child, and there
were sects of philosophy, before thou wert born.
MEN. Appetitus, thou mistakest me. I tell thee, three thousand years ago
was Mendacio born in Greece,[210] nursed in Crete, and ever since
honoured everywhere. I'll be sworn I held old Homer's pen, when he writ
his Iliads and his Odysseys.
APP. Thou hadst need, for I hear say he was blind.
MEN. I helped Herodotus to pen some part of his "Muses";[211] lent Pliny
ink to write his history; rounded Rabelais in the ear,[212] when he
historified Pantagruel: as for Lucian, I was his genius. O, those two
books "De Vera Historia," howsoever they go under his name, I'll be
sworn I writ them every tittle.
APP. Sure as I am hungry, thou'st have it for lying. But hast thou
rusted this latter time for want of exercise?
MEN. Nothing less. I must confess I would fain have jogged Stow and
great Hollingshed on their elbows, when they were about their
chronicles; and, as I remember, Sir John Mandeville's "Travels" and a
great part of the "Decads"[213] were of my doing. But for the "Mirror of
Knighthood," "Bevis of Southampton," "Palmerin of England," "Amadis of
Gaul," "Huon de Bordeaux," "Sir Guy of Warwick," "Martin Marprelate,"
"Robin Hood," "Garragantua," "Gerileon," and a thousand such exquisite
monuments as these, no doubt but they breathe in my breath up and down.
APP. Downwards, I'll swear, for there's stinking lies in them.
MEN. But what, should I light a candle to the bright sunshine of my
glorious renown? The whole world is full of Mendacio's fame.
APP. And so it will be so long as the world is full of fame.
MEN. But, sirrah, how hast thou done this long time?
APP. In as much request as thyself. To begin with the court, as thou
didst: I lie with the ladies all night, and that's the reason they call
for cullies and gruellies so early before their prayers. Your gallants
never sup, breakfast, or bever[214] without me.
MEN. That's false, for I have seen them eat with a full stomach.
APP. True, but because they know a little thing drives me from them,
therefore in midst of meat they present me with some sharp sauce or a
dish of delicate anchovies, or a caviare,[215] to entice me back again.
Nay, more: your old sires, that hardly go without a prop, will walk a
mile or two every day to renew their acquaintance with me. As for the
academy, it is beholding to me for adding the eighth province unto the
noble Heptarchy of the liberal sciences.[216]
MEN. What's that, I prythee?
APP. The most desired and honourable art of cookery. Now, sirrah, in the
city I am------'st, 'st! O, the body of a louse!
MEN. What, art a louse in the city?
APP. Not a word more; for yonder comes Phantastes and somebody else.
MEN. What a pox can Phantastes do?
APP. Work a miracle, if he would prove wise.
MEN. 'Tis he indeed, the vilest nup.[217] Yet the fool loves me
exceedingly; but I care not for his company, for if he once catch me,
I shall never be rid of him.
[_Exeunt_ APPETITUS _and_ MENDACIO.
SCAENA SECUNDA.
PHANTASTES, _a swart-complexioned fellow, but quick-eyed, in a
white satin doublet of one fashion, green velvet hose of another,
a fantastical hat with a plume of feathers of several colours, a
little short taffeta cloak, a pair of buskins cut, drawn out with
sundry-coloured ribbands, with scarfs hung about him after all
fashions and of all colours, rings, jewels, a fan, and in every
place other odd complements_.[218] HEURESIS, _a nimble-sprited
page in the newest fashion, with a garland of bays, &c_.
PHANTASTES, HEURESIS.
PHA. Sirrah boy! Heuresis! boy! how now, biting your nails?
HEU. Three things have troubled my brain this many a day, and just now,
when I was laying hold on the invention of them, your sudden call made
them, like Tantalus's apples, fly from my fingers.
PHA. Some great matters, questionless; what were they?
HEU. The quadrature of a circle, the philosopher's stone, and the next
way to the Indies.
PHA. Thou dost well to meditate on these three things at once, for
they'll be found out altogether--_ad Graecas Calendas_; but let them
pass, and carry the conceit I told you this morning to the party you wot
of. In my imagination 'tis capricious; 'twill take, I warrant thee.
HEU. I will, sir. But what say you to the gentleman that was with you
yesterday?
PHA. O, I think thou meanest him that made nineteen sonnets of his
mistress's busk-point.[219]
HEU. The same, the same, sir. You promised to help him out with the
twentieth.
PHA. By Jupiter's cloven pate, 'tis true. But we witty fellows are so
forgetful; but stay, Heu, Heu,[220] carry him this.
_The Gordian knot, which Alexander great
Did whilom, cut with his all-conquering sword,
Was nothing like thy busk-point, pretty peat,[221]
Nor could so fair an augury afford_.
Then to conclude, let him pervert Catullas's _Zonam solvit diu ligatum_
thus, thus--
_Which if I chance to cut, or else untie,
Thy little world I'll conquer presently_.
'Tis pretty, pretty, tell him 'twas extemporal.
HEU. Well, sir, but now for Master Inamorato's love-letter.
PHA. Some nettling stuff, i'faith; let him write thus: _Most
heart-commanding-faced gentlewoman, even as the stone in India, called
Basaliscus, hurts all that looks on it, and as the serpent in Arabia,
called Smaragdus, delighteth the sight, so does thy celestial
orb-assimilating eyes both please, and in pleasing wound my love-darted
heart_.