SCENE I.—THE COURT.ENTER CUPID AND MERCURY, DISGUISED AS PAGES.CUP. Why, this was most unexpectedly followed, my divine delicateMercury, by the beard of Jove, thou art a precious deity.MER. Nay, Cupid, leave to speak improperly; since we are turn'dcracks, let's study to be like cracks; practise their language, andbehaviours, and not with a dead imitation: Act freely, carelessly,and capriciously, as if our veins ran with quicksilver, and notutter a phrase, but what shall come forth steep'd in the very brineof conceit, and sparkle like salt in fire.CUP. That's not every one's happiness, Hermes: Though you canpresume upon the easiness and dexterity of your wit, you shall giveme leave to be a little jealous of mine; and not desperately tohazard it after your capering humour.MER. Nay, then, Cupid, I think we must have you hood-wink'd again;for you are grown too provident since your eyes were at liberty.CUP. Not so, Mercury, I am still blind Cupid to thee.MER. And what to the lady nymph you serve?CUP. Troth, page, boy, and sirrah: these are all my titles.MER. Then thou hast not altered thy name with thy disguise?CUP. O, no, that had been supererogation; you shall never hearyour courtier call but by one of these three.MER. Faith, then both our fortunes are the same.CUP. Why, what parcel of man hast thou lighted on for a master?MER. Such a one as, before I begin to decipher him, I dare notaffirm to be any thing less than a courtier. So much he is duringthis open time of revels, and would be longer, but that his meansare to leave him shortly after. His name is Hedon, a gallantwholly consecrated to his pleasures.CUP. Hedon! he uses much to my lady's chamber, I think.MER. How is she call'd, and then I can shew thee?CUP. Madame Philautia.MER. O ay, he affects her very particularly indeed. These are hisgraces. He doth (besides me) keep a barber and a monkey; he has arich wrought waistcoat to entertain his visitants in, with a capalmost suitable. His curtains and bedding are thought to be hisown; his bathing-tub is not suspected. He loves to have a fencer,a pedant, and a musician seen in his lodging a-mornings.CUP. And not a poet?MER. Fie no: himself is a rhymer, and that's thought better thana poet. He is not lightly within to his mercer, no, though he comewhen he takes physic, which is commonly after his play. He beats atailor very well, but a stocking-seller admirably: and soconsequently any one he owes money to, that dares not resist him.He never makes general invitement, but against the publishing of anew suit; marry, then you shall have more drawn to his lodging,than come to the launching of some three ships; especially if he befurnish'd with supplies for the retiring of his old wardrobe frompawn: if not, he does hire a stock of apparel, and some forty orfifty pound in gold, for that forenoon to shew. He is thought avery necessary perfume for the presence, and for that only causewelcome thither: six milliners' shops afford you not the likescent. He courts ladies with how many great horse he hath rid thatmorning, or how oft he hath done the whole, or half the pommado in aseven-night before: and sometime ventures so far upon the virtue ofhis pomander, that he dares tell 'em, how many shirts he has sweatat tennis that week; but wisely conceals so many dozen of balls heis on the score. Here he comes, that is all this.ENTER HEDON, ANAIDES, AND GELAIA.HED. Boy!MER. Sir.HED. Are any of the ladies in the presence?MER. None yet, sir.HED. Give me some gold,—more.ANA. Is that thy boy, Hedon?HED. Ay, what think'st thou of him?ANA. I'd geld him; I warrant he has the philosopher's stone.HED. Well said, my good melancholy devil: sirrah, I have devisedone or two of the prettiest oaths, this morning in my bed, as everthou heard'st, to protest withal in the presence.ANA. Prithee, let's hear them.HED. Soft, thou'lt use them afore me.ANA. No, d—mn me then—I have more oaths than I know how toutter, by this air.HED. Faith, one is, "By the tip of your ear, sweet lady." Is itnot pretty, and genteel?ANA. Yes, for the person 'tis applied to, a lady. It should belight, and—HED. Nay, the other is better, exceeds it much: the invention isfarther fet too. "By the white valley that lies between the alpinehills of your bosom, I protest.—"ANA. Well, you travell'd for that, Hedon.MER. Ay, in a map, where his eyes were but blind guides to hisunderstanding, it seems.HED. And then I have a salutation will nick all, by this caper:hay!ANA. How is that?HED. You know I call madam Philautia, my Honour; and she calls meher Ambition. Now, when I meet her in the presence anon, I willcome to her, and say, "Sweet Honour, I have hitherto contented mysense with the lilies of your hand; but now I will taste the rosesof your lip"; and, withal, kiss her: to which she cannot butblushing answer, "Nay now you are too ambitious." And then do Ireply: "I cannot be too Ambitious of Honour, sweet lady." Will'tnot be good? ha? ha?ANA. O, assure your soul.HED. By heaven, I think 'twill be excellent: and a very politicachievement of a kiss.ANA. I have thought upon one for Moria of a sudden too, if it take.HED. What is't, my dear Invention?ANA. Marry, I will come to her, (and she always wears a muff, ifyou be remembered,) and I will tell her, "Madam your whole selfcannot but be perfectly wise; for your hands have wit enough tokeep themselves warm."HED. Now, before Jove, admirable! [GELAIA LAUGHS.] Look, thy pagetakes it too. By Phoebus, my sweet facetious rascal, I could eatwater-gruel with thee a month for this jest, my dear rogue.ANA. O, Hercules 'tis your only dish; above all your potatoes oroyster-pies in the world.HED. I have ruminated upon a most rare wish too, and the prophecyto it; but I'll have some friend to be the prophet; as thus: I dowish myself one of my mistress's cioppini. Another demands, Whywould he be one of his mistress's cioppini? a third answers,Because he would make her higher: a fourth shall say, That willmake her proud: and a fifth shall conclude, Then do I prophesypride will have a fall;—and he shall give it her.ANA. I will be your prophet. Gods so, it will be most exquisite;thou art a fine inventious rogue, sirrah.HED. Nay, and I have posies for rings, too, and riddles, that theydream not of.ANA. Tut, they'll do that, when they come to sleep on them, timeenough: But were thy devices never in the presence yet, Hedon?HED. O, no, I disdain that.ANA. 'Twere good we went afore then, and brought them acquaintedwith the room where they shall act, lest the strangeness of it putthem out of countenance, when they should come forth.[EXEUNT HEDON AND ANAIDES.]CUP. Is that a courtier, too.MER. Troth, no; he has two essential parts of the courtier, prideand ignorance; marry, the rest come somewhat after the ordinarygallant. 'Tis Impudence itself, Anaides; one that speaks all thatcomes in his cheeks, and will blush no more than a sackbut. Helightly occupies the jester's room at the table, and keepslaughter, Gelaia, a wench in page's attire, following him in placeof a squire, whom he now and then tickles with some strangeridiculous stuff, utter'd as his land came to him, by chance. Hewill censure or discourse of any thing, but as absurdly as youwould wish. His fashion is not to take knowledge of him that isbeneath him in clothes. He never drinks below the salt. He doesnaturally admire his wit that wears gold lace, or tissue: stabsany man that speaks more contemptibly of the scholar than he. Heis a great proficient in all the illiberal sciences, as cheating,drinking, swaggering, whoring, and such like: never kneels but topledge healths, nor prays but for a pipe of pudding-tobacco. Hewill blaspheme in his shirt. The oaths which he vomits at onesupper would maintain a town of garrison in good swearing atwelvemonth. One other genuine quality he has which crowns allthese, and that is this: to a friend in want, he will not departwith the weight of a soldered groat, lest the world might censurehim prodigal, or report him a gull: marry, to his cockatrice orpunquetto, half a dozen taffata gowns or satin kirtles in a pair ortwo of months, why, they are nothing.CUP. I commend him, he is one of my clients.[THEY RETIRE TO THE BACK OF THE STAGE.]ENTER AMORPHUS, ASOTUS, AND COS.AMO. Come, sir. You are now within regard of the presence, andsee, the privacy of this room how sweetly it offers itself to ourretired intendments.—Page, cast a vigilant and enquiring eyeabout, that we be not rudely surprised by the approach of someruder stranger.COS. I warrant you, sir. I'll tell you when the wolf enters, fearnothing.MER. O what a mass of benefit shall we possess, in being theinvisible spectators of this strange show now to be acted!AMO. Plant yourself there, sir; and observe me. You shall now, aswell be the ocular, as the ear-witness, how clearly I can refelthat paradox, or rather pseudodox, of those, which hold the face tobe the index of the mind, which, I assure you, is not so in anypolitic creature: for instance; I will now give you the particularand distinct face of every your most noted species of persons, asyour merchant, your scholar, your soldier, your lawyer, courtier,etc., and each of these so truly, as you would swear, but that youreye shall see the variation of the lineament, it were my mostproper and genuine aspect. First, for your merchant, or city-face,'tis thus; a dull, plodding-face, still looking in a direct line,forward: there is no great matter in this face. Then have youyour student's, or academic face; which is here an honest, simple,and methodical face; but somewhat more spread then the former. Thethird is your soldier's face, a menacing and astounding face, thatlooks broad and big: the grace of his face consisteth much in abeard. The anti-face to this, is your lawyer's face, a contracted,subtile, and intricate face, full of quirks and turnings, alabyrinthean face, now angularly, now circularly, every wayaspected. Next is your statist's face, a serious, solemn, andsupercilious face, full of formal and square gravity; the eye, forthe most part, deeply and artificially shadow'd; there is greatjudgment required in the making of this face. But now, to come toyour face of faces, or courtier's face; 'tis of three sorts,according to our subdivision of a courtier, elementary, practic,and theoric. Your courtier theoric, is he that hath arrived to hisfarthest, and doth now know the court rather by speculation thanpractice; and this is his face: a fastidious and oblique face; thatlooks as it went with a vice, and were screw'd thus. Your courtierpractic, is he that is yet in his path, his course, his way, andhath not touch'd the punctilio or point of his hopes; his face ishere: a most promising, open, smooth, and overflowing face, thatseems as it would run and pour itself into you: somewhat anortherly face. Your courtier elementary, is one but newlyenter'd, or as it were in the alphabet, or ut-re-mi-fa-sol-la ofcourtship. Note well this face, for it is this you must practise.ASO. I'll practise them all, if you please, sir.AMO. Ay, hereafter you may: and it will not be altogether anungrateful study. For, let your soul be assured of this, in anyrank or profession whatever, the more general or major part ofopinion goes with the face and simply respects nothing else.Therefore, if that can be made exactly, curiously, exquisitely,thoroughly, it is enough: but for the present you shall only applyyourself to this face of the elementary courtier, a light,revelling, and protesting face, now blushing, now smiling, whichyou may help much with a wanton wagging of your head, thus, (afeather will teach you,) or with kissing your finger that hath theruby, or playing with some string of your band, which is a mostquaint kind of melancholy besides: or, if among ladies, laughingloud, and crying up your own wit, though perhaps borrow'd, it isnot amiss. Where is your page? call for your casting-bottle, andplace your mirror in your hat, as I told you; so! Come, look notpale, observe me, set your face, and enter.MER. O, for some excellent painter, to have taken the copy of allthese faces! [ASIDE.]ASO. Prosaites!AMO. Fie! I premonish you of that: in the court, boy, lacquey, orsirrah.COS. Master, lupus in—O, 'tis Prosaites.ENTER PROSAITES.ASO. Sirrah, prepare my casting-bottle; I think I must beenforced to purchase me another page; you see how at hand Cos waitshere.[EXEUNT AMORPHUS, ASOTUS, COS, AND PROSAITES.]MER. So will he too in time.CUP. What's he Mercury?MER. A notable smelt. One that hath newly entertain'd the beggarto follow him, but cannot get him to wait near enough. 'TisAsotus, the heir of Philargyrus; but first I'll give ye the other'scharacter, which may make his the clearer. He that is with him isAmorphus, a traveller, one so made out of the mixture of shreds offorms, that himself is truly deform'd. He walks most commonly witha clove or pick-tooth in his mouth, he is the very mint ofcompliment, all his behaviours are printed, his face is anothervolume of essays, and his beard is an Aristarchus. He speaks allcream skimm'd, and more affected than a dozen waiting women. Heis his own promoter in every place. The wife of the ordinary giveshim his diet to maintain her table in discourse; which, indeed, isa mere tyranny over her other guests, for he will usurp all thetalk: ten constables are not so tedious. He is no great shifter;once a year his apparel is ready to revolt. He doth use much toarbitrate quarrels, and fights himself, exceeding well, out at awindow. He will lie cheaper than any beggar, and louder than mostclocks; for which he is right properly accommodated to theWhetstone, his page. The other gallant is his zany, and doth mostof these tricks after him; sweats to imitate him in every thing toa hair, except a beard, which is not yet extant. He doth learn tomake strange sauces, to eat anchovies, maccaroni, bovoli, fagioli,and caviare, because he loves them; speaks as he speaks, looks,walks, goes so in clothes and fashion: is in all as if he weremoulded of him. Marry, before they met, he had other very prettysufficiencies, which yet he retains some light impression of; asfrequenting a dancing school, and grievously torturing strangerswith inquisition after his grace in his galliard. He buys a freshacquaintance at any rate. His eyes and his raiment confer muchtogether as he goes in the street. He treads nicely like thefellow that walks upon ropes, especially the first Sunday of hissilk stockings; and when he is most neat and new, you shall striphim with commendations.CUP. Here comes another. [CRITES PASSES OVER THE STAGE.]MER. Ay, but one of another strain, Cupid; This fellow weighssomewhat.CUP. His name, Hermes?MER. Crites. A creature of a most perfect and divine temper: one,in whom the humours and elements are peaceably met, withoutemulation of precedency; he is neither too fantasticallymelancholy, too slowly phlegmatic, too lightly sanguine, or toorashly choleric; but in all so composed and ordered; as it is clearNature went about some full work, she did more than make a man whenshe made him. His discourse is like his behaviour, uncommon, butnot unpleasing; he is prodigal of neither. He strives rather to bethat which men call judicious, than to be thought so; and is sotruly learned, that he affects not to shew it. He will think andspeak his thought both freely; but as distant from depravinganother man's merit, as proclaiming his own. For his valour, 'tissuch, that he dares as little to offer any injury, as receive one.In sum, he hath a most ingenuous and sweet spirit, a sharp andseason'd wit, a straight judgment and a strong mind. Fortunecould never break him, nor make him less. He counts it hispleasure to despise pleasures, and is more delighted with gooddeeds than goods. It is a competency to him that he can bevirtuous. He doth neither covet nor fear; he hath too much reasonto do either; and that commends all things to him.CUP. Not better than Mercury commends him.MER. O, Cupid, 'tis beyond my deity to give him his due praises:I could leave my place in heaven to live among mortals, so I weresure to be no other than he.CUP. 'Slight, I believe he is your minion, you seem to be soravish'd with him.MER. He's one I would not have a wry thought darted against,willingly.CUP. No, but a straight shaft in his bosom I'll promise him, if Iam Cytherea's son.MER. Shall we go, Cupid?CUP. Stay, and see the ladies now: they'll come presently. I'llhelp to paint them.MER. What lay colour upon colour! that affords but an ill blazon.CUP. Here comes metal to help it, the lady Argurion.[ARGURION PASSES OVER THE STAGE.]MER. Money, money.CUP. The same. A nymph of a most wandering and giddy disposition,humorous as the air, she'll run from gallant to gallant, as theysit at primero in the presence, most strangely, and seldom stayswith any. She spreads as she goes. To-day you shall have her lookas clear and fresh as the morning, and to-morrow as melancholic asmidnight. She takes special pleasure in a close obscure lodging,and for that cause visits the city so often, where she has manysecret true concealing favourites. When she comes abroad she'smore loose and scattering than dust, and will fly from place toplace, as she were wrapped with a whirlwind. Your young student,for the most part, she affects not, only salutes him, and away: apoet, nor a philosopher, she is hardly brought to take any noticeof; no, though he be some part of an alchemist. She loves a playerwell, and a lawyer infinitely; but your fool above all. She can domuch in court for the obtaining of any suit whatsoever, no doorbut flies open to her, her presence is above a charm. The worst inher is want of keeping state, and too much descending into inferiorand base offices; she's for any coarse employment you will put uponher, as to be your procurer, or pander.MER. Peace, Cupid, here comes more work for you, another characteror two.ENTER PHANTASTE, MORIA, AND PHILAUTIA.PHA. Stay sweet Philautia; I'll but change my fan, and gopresently.MOR. Now, in very good serious, ladies, I will have this orderrevers'd, the presence must be better maintain'd from you: aquarter past eleven, and ne'er a nymph in prospective! Beshrew myhand, there must be a reform'd discipline. Is that your new ruff,sweet lady-bird? By my troth, 'tis most intricately rare.MER. Good Jove, what reverend gentlewoman in years might this be?CUP. 'Tis madam Moria, guardian of the nymphs; one that is not nowto be persuaded of her wit; she will think herself wise against allthe judgments that come. A lady made all of voice and air, talksany thing of any thing. She is like one of your ignorant poetastersof the time, who, when they have got acquainted with a strangeword, never rest till they have wrung it in, though it loosen thewhole fabric of their sense.MER. That was pretty and sharply noted, Cupid.CUP. She will tell you, Philosophy was a fine reveller, when shewas young, and a gallant, and that then, though she say it, she wasthought to be the dame Dido and Helen of the court: as also, whata sweet dog she had this time four years, and how it was calledFortune; and that, if the Fates had not cut his thread, he had beena dog to have given entertainment to any gallant in this kingdom;and unless she had whelp'd it herself, she could not have loved athing better in this world.MER. O, I prithee no more; I am full of her.CUP. Yes, I must needs tell you she composes a sack-posset well;and would court a young page sweetly, but that her breath isagainst it.MER. Now, her breath or something more strong protect me from her!The other, the other, Cupid.CUP. O, that's my lady and mistress, madam Philautia. She admiresnot herself for any one particularity, but for all: she is fair,and she knows it; she has a pretty light wit too, and she knows it;she can dance, and she knows that too; play at shuttle-cock, andthat too: no quality she has, but she shall take a very particularknowledge of, and most lady-like commend it to you. You shall haveher at any time read you the history of herself, and very subtilelyrun over another lady's sufficiencies to come to her own. She hasa good superficial judgment in painting; and would seem to have soin poetry. A most complete lady in the opinion of some threebeside herself.PHI. Faith, how liked you my quip to Hedon, about the garter?Was't not witty?MOR. Exceeding witty and integrate: you did so aggravate the jestwithal.PHI. And did I not dance movingly the last night?MOR. Movingly! out of measure, in troth, sweet charge.MER. A happy commendation, to dance out of measure!MOR. Save only you wanted the swim in the turn: O! when I was atfourteen—PHI. Nay, that's mine own from any nymph in the court, I'm sureon't; therefore you mistake me in that, guardian: both the swim andthe trip are properly mine; every body will affirm it that has anyjudgment in dancing, I assure you.PHA. Come now, Philautia, I am for you; shall we go?PHI. Ay, good Phantaste: What! have you changed your head-tire?PHA. Yes, faith; the other was so near the common, it had noextraordinary grace; besides, I had worn it almost a day, in goodtroth.PHI. I'll be sworn, this is most excellent for the device, andrare; 'tis after the Italian print we look'd on t'other night.PHA. 'Tis so: by this fan, I cannot abide any thing that savoursthe poor over-worn cut, that has any kindred with it; I must havevariety, I: this mixing in fashion, I hate it worse than to burnjuniper in my chamber, I protest.PHI. And yet we cannot have a new peculiar court-tire, but theseretainers will have it; these suburb Sunday-waiters; thesecourtiers for high days; I know not what I should call 'em—PHA. O, ay, they do most pitifully imitate; but I have a tire acoming, i'faith, shall—MOR. In good certain, madam, it makes you look most heavenly; but,lay your hand on your heart, you never skinn'd a new beauty moreprosperously in your life, nor more metaphysically: look good lady,sweet lady, look.PHI. 'Tis very clear and well, believe me. But if you had seenmine yesterday, when 'twas young, you would have—Who's yourdoctor, Phantaste?PHA. Nay, that's counsel, Philautia; you shall pardon me: yet I'llassure you he's the most dainty, sweet, absolute, rare man of thewhole college. O! his very looks, his discourse, his behaviour, allhe does is physic, I protest.PHI. For heaven's sake, his name, good dear Phantaste?PHA. No, no, no, no, no, no, believe me, not for a million ofheavens: I will not make him cheap. Fie—[EXEUNT PHANTASTE, MORIA, AND PHILAUTIA.]CUP. There is a nymph too of a most curious and elaborate strain,light, all motion, an ubiquitary, she is every where, Phantaste—MER. Her very name speaks her, let her pass. But are these,Cupid, the stars of Cynthia's court? Do these nymphs attend uponDiana?CUP. They are in her court, Mercury, but not as stars; these nevercome in the presence of Cynthia. The nymphs that make her trainare the divine Arete, Time, Phronesis, Thauma, and others of thathigh sort. These are privately brought in by Moria in thislicentious time, against her knowledge; and, like so many meteors,will vanish when she appears.ENTER PROSAITES SINGING, FOLLOWED BY GELAIA AND COS, WITH BOTTLES.Come follow me, my wags, and say, as I say,There's no riches but in rags, hey day, hey day:You that profess this art, come away, come away,And help to bear a part. Hey day, hey day, etc.[MERCURY AND CUPID COME FORWARD.]MER. What, those that were our fellow pages but now, so soonpreferr'd to be yeomen of the bottles! The mystery, the mystery,good wags?CUP. Some diet-drink they have the guard of.PRO. No, sir, we are going in quest of a strange fountain, latelyfound out.CUP. By whom?COS. My master or the great discoverer, Amorphus.MER. Thou hast well entitled him, Cos, for he will discover all heknows.GEL. Ay, and a little more too, when the spirit is upon him.PRO. O, the good travelling gentleman yonder has caused such adrought in the presence, with reporting the wonders of this newwater, that all the ladies and gallants lie languishing upon therushes, like so many pounded cattle in the midst of harvest,sighing one to another, and gasping, as if each of them expected acock from the fountain to be brought into his mouth; and withoutwe return quickly, they are all, as a youth would say, no betterthen a few trouts cast ashore, or a dish of eels in a sand-bag.MER. Well then, you were best dispatch, and have a care of them.Come, Cupid, thou and I'll go peruse this dry wonder. [EXEUNT.]
SCENE I.—AN APARTMENT AT THE COURT.ENTER AMORPHUS AND ASOTUS.AMO. Sir, let not this discountenance or disgallant you a whit;you must not sink under the first disaster. It is with your younggrammatical courtier, as with your neophyte player, a thing usualto be daunted at the first presence or interview: you saw, therewas Hedon, and Anaides, far more practised gallants than yourself,who were both out, to comfort you. It is no disgrace, no more thanfor your adventurous reveller to fall by some inauspicious chancein his galliard, or for some subtile politic to undertake thebastinado, that the state might think worthily of him, and respecthim as a man well beaten to the world. What? hath your tailorprovided the property we spake of at your chamber, or no?ASO. I think he has.AMO. Nay, I entreat you, be not so flat and melancholic. Erectyour mind: you shall redeem this with the courtship I will teachyou against the afternoon. Where eat you to-day?ASO. Where you please, sir; any where, I.AMO. Come, let us go and taste some light dinner, a dish of slicedcaviare, or so; and after, you shall practise an hour at yourlodging some few forms that I have recall'd. If you had but so fargathered your spirits to you, as to have taken up a rush when youwere out, and wagg'd it thus, or cleansed your teeth with it; orbut turn'd aside, and feign'd some business to whisper with yourpage, till you had recovered yourself, or but found some slightstain in your stocking, or any other pretty invention, so it hadbeen sudden, you might have come off with a most clear and courtlygrace.ASO. A poison of all! I think I was forespoke, I.AMO. No, I must tell you, you are not audacious enough; you mustfrequent ordinaries a month more, to initiate yourself: in whichtime, it will not be amiss, if, in private, you keep good youracquaintance with Crites, or some other of his poor coat; visit hislodging secretly and often; become an earnest suitor to hear someof his labours.ASO. O Jove! sir, I could never get him to read a line to me.AMO. You must then wisely mix yourself in rank with such as youknow can; and, as your ears do meet with a new phrase, or an acutejest, take it in: a quick nimble memory will lift it away, and, atyour next public meal, it is your own.ASO. But I shall never utter it perfectly, sir.AMO. No matter, let it come lame. In ordinary talk you shall playit away, as you do your light crowns at primero: it will pass.ASO. I shall attempt, sir.AMO. Do. It is your shifting age for wit, and, I assure you, menmust be prudent. After this you may to court, and there fall in,first with the waiting-woman, then with the lady. Put case they doretain you there, as a fit property, to hire coaches some pair ofmonths, or so; or to read them asleep in afternoons upon somepretty pamphlet, to breathe you; why, it shall in time embolden youto some farther achievement: in the interim, you may fashionyourself to be careless and impudent.ASO. How if they would have me to make verses? I heard Hedonspoke to for some.AMO. Why, you must prove the aptitude of your genius; if you findnone, you must hearken out a vein, and buy; provided you pay forthe silence as for the work, then you may securely call it yourown.ASO. Yes, and I'll give out my acquaintance with all the bestwriters, to countenance me the more.AMO. Rather seem not to know them, it is your best. Ay, be wise,that you never so much as mention the name of one, nor remember itmentioned; but if they be offer'd to you in discourse, shake yourlight head, make between a sad and a smiling face, pity some, railat all, and commend yourself: 'tis your only safe and unsuspectedcourse. Come, you shall look back upon the court again to-day, andbe restored to your colours: I do now partly aim at the cause ofyour repulse—which was ominous indeed—for as you enter at thedoor, there is opposed to you the frame of a wolf in the hangings,which, surprising your eye suddenly, gave a false alarm to theheart; and that was it called your blood out of your face, and sorouted the whole rank of your spirits: I beseech you labour toforget it. And remember, as I inculcated to you before, for yourcomfort, Hedon and Anaides. [EXEUNT.]
SCENE II.—ANOTHER APARTMENT IN THE SAME.ENTER HEDON AND ANAIDES.HEDON. Heart, was there ever so prosperous an invention thusunluckily perverted and spoiled, by a whoreson book-worm, acandle-waster?ANA. Nay, be not impatient, Hedon.HED. 'Slight, I would fain know his name.ANA. Hang him, poor grogan rascal! prithee think not of him: I'llsend for him to my lodging, and have him blanketed when thou wilt,man.HED. Ods so, I would thou couldst. Look, here he comes.ENTER CRITES, AND WALKS IN A MUSING POSTURE AT THE BACK OF THESTAGE.Laugh at him, laugh at him; ha, ha, ha.ANA. Fough! he smells all lamp-oil with studying by candle-light.HED. How confidently he went by us, and carelessly! Never moved,nor stirred at any thing! Did you observe him?ANA. Ay, a pox on him, let him go, dormouse: he is in a dreamnow. He has no other time to sleep, but thus when he walks abroadto take the air.HED. 'Sprecious, this afflicts me more than all the rest, that weshould so particularly direct our hate and contempt against him,and he to carry it thus without wound or passion! 'tisinsufferable.ANA. 'Slid, my dear Envy, if thou but say'st the word now, I'llundo him eternally for thee.HED. How, sweet Anaides?ANA. Marry, half a score of us get him in, one night, and make himpawn his wit for a supper.HED. Away, thou hast such unseasonable jests! By this heaven, Iwonder at nothing more than our gentlemen ushers, that will suffera piece of serge or perpetuana to come into the presence: methinksthey should, out of their experience, better distinguish thesilken disposition of courtiers, than to let such terrible coarserags mix with us, able to fret any smooth or gentle society to thethreads with their rubbing devices.ANA. Unless 'twere Lent, Ember-weeks, or fasting days, when theplace is most penuriously empty of all other good outsides. D—nme, if I should adventure on his company once more, without a suitof buff to defend my wit! he does nothing but stab, the slave!How mischievously he cross'd thy device of the prophecy, there?and Moria, she comes without her muff too, and there my inventionwas lost.HED. Well, I am resolved what I'll do.ANA. What, my good spiritous spark?HED. Marry, speak all the venom I can of him; and poison hisreputation in every place where I come.ANA. 'Fore God, most courtly.HED. And if I chance to be present where any question is made ofhis sufficiencies, or of any thing he hath done private or public,I'll censure it slightly, and ridiculously.ANA. At any hand beware of that; so thou may'st draw thine ownjudgment in suspect. No, I'll instruct thee what thou shalt do,and by a safer means: approve any thing thou hearest of his, to thereceived opinion of it; but if it be extraordinary, give it fromhim to some other whom thou more particularly affect'st; that's theway to plague him, and he shall never come to defend himself.'Slud, I'll give out all he does is dictated from other men, andswear it too, if thou'lt have me, and that I know the time andplace where he stole it, though my soul be guilty of no such thing;and that I think, out of my heart, he hates such barren shifts: yetto do thee a pleasure and him a disgrace, I'll damn myself, or doany thing.HED. Gramercy, my dear devil; we'll put it seriously in practice,i'faith. [EXEUNT HEDON AND ANAIDES.]CRI. [COMING FORWARD.]Do, good Detraction, do, and I the whileShall shake thy spight off with a careless smile.Poor piteous gallants! what lean idle slightsTheir thoughts suggest to flatter their starv'd hopes!As if I knew not how to entertainThese straw-devices; but, of force must yieldTo the weak stroke of their calumnious tongues.What should I care what every dor doth buzIn credulous ears? It is a crown to meThat the best judgments can report me wrong'd;Them liars; and their slanders impudent.Perhaps, upon the rumour of their speeches,Some grieved friend will whisper to me; Crites,Men speak ill of thee. So they be ill men,If they spake worse, 'twere better: for of suchTo be dispraised, is the most perfect praise.What can his censure hurt me, whom the worldHath censured vile before me! If good Chrestus,Euthus, or Phronimus, had spoke the words,They would have moved me, and I should have call'dMy thoughts and actions to a strict accountUpon the hearing: but when I remember,'Tis Hedon and Anaides, alas, thenI think but what they are, and am not stirr'd.The one a light voluptuous reveller,The other, a strange arrogating puff,Both impudent, and ignorant enough;That talk as they are wont, not as I merit;Traduce by custom, as most dogs do bark,Do nothing out of judgment, but disease,Speak ill, because they never could speak well.And who'd be angry with this race of creatures?What wise physician have we ever seenMoved with a frantic man? the same affectsThat he doth bear to his sick patient,Should a right mind carry to such as these;And I do count it a most rare revenge,That I can thus, with such a sweet neglect,Pluck from them all the pleasure of their malice;For that's the mark of all their enginous drifts,To wound my patience, howso'er they seemTo aim at other objects; which if miss'd,Their envy's like an arrow shot upright,That, in the fall, endangers their own heads.ENTER ARETE.ARE. What, Crites! where have you drawn forth the day,You have not visited your jealous friends?CRI. Where I have seen, most honour'd Arete,The strangest pageant, fashion'd like a court,(At least I dreamt I saw it) so diffused,So painted, pied, and full of rainbow strains;As never yet, either by time, or place,Was made the food to my distasted sense;Nor can my weak imperfect memoryNow render half the forms unto my tongue,That were convolved within this thrifty room.Here stalks me by a proud and spangled sir,That looks three handfuls higher then his foretop;Savours himself alone, is only kindAnd loving to himself; one that will speakMore dark and doubtful than six oracles!Salutes a friend, as if he had a stitch;Is his own chronicle, and scarce can eatFor regist'ring himself; is waited onBy mimics, jesters, panders, parasites,And other such like prodigies of men.He past, appears some mincing marmosetMade all of clothes and face; his limbs so setAs if they had some voluntary actWithout man's motion, and must move just soIn spight of their creation: one that weighsHis breath between his teeth, and dares not smileBeyond a point, for fear t'unstarch his look;Hath travell'd to make legs, and seen the cringeOf several courts, and courtiers; knows the timeOf giving titles, and of taking walls;Hath read court common-places; made them his:Studied the grammar of state, and all the rulesEach formal usher in that politic schoolCan teach a man. A third comes, giving nodsTo his repenting creditors, protestsTo weeping suitors, takes the coming goldOf insolent and base ambition,That hourly rubs his dry and itchy palms;Which griped, like burning coals, he hurls awayInto the laps of bawds, and buffoons' mouths.With him there meets some subtle Proteus, oneCan change, and vary with all forms he sees;Be any thing but honest; serves the time;Hovers betwixt two factions, and exploresThe drifts of both; which, with cross face, he bearsTo the divided heads, and is receivedWith mutual grace of either: one that daresDo deeds worthy the hurdle or the wheel,To be thought somebody; and is in soothSuch as the satirist points truly forth,That only to his crimes owes all his worth.ARE. You tell us wonders, Crites.CRI. This is nothing.There stands a neophite glazing of his face,Pruning his clothes, perfuming of his hair,Against his idol enters; and repeats,Like an unperfect prologue, at third music,His part of speeches, and confederate jests,In passion to himself. Another swearsHis scene of courtship over; bids, believe him,Twenty times ere they will; anon, doth seemAs he would kiss away his hand in kindness;Then walks off melancholic, and stands wreath'd,As he were pinn'd up to the arras, thus.A third is most in action, swims, and frisks,Plays with his mistress's paps, salutes her pumps;Adores her hems, her skirts, her knots, her curls,Will spend his patrimony for a garter,Or the least feather in her bounteous fan.A fourth, he only comes in for a mute;Divides the act with a dumb show, and exit.Then must the ladies laugh, straight comes their scene,A sixth times worse confusion then the rest.Where you shall hear one talk of this man's eye,Another of his lip, a third, his nose,A fourth commend his leg, a fifth, his foot,A sixth, his hand, and every one a limb;That you would think the poor distorted gallantMust there expire. Then fall they in discourseOf tires, and fashions, how they must take place,Where they may kiss, and whom, when to sit down,And with what grace to rise; if they salute,What court'sy they must use; such cobweb stuffAs would enforce the common'st sense abhorTh' Arachnean workers.ARE. Patience, gentle Crites.This knot of spiders will be soon dissolved,And all their webs swept out of Cynthia's court,When once her glorious deity appears,And but presents itself in her full light:'Till when, go in, and spend your hours with us,Your honour'd friends. Time and Phronesis,In contemplation of our goddess' name.Think on some sweet and choice invention now,Worthy her serious and illustrious eyes,That from the merit of it we may takeDesired occasion to prefer your worth,And make your service known to Cynthia.It is the pride of Arete to graceHer studious lovers; and, in scorn of time,Envy, and ignorance, to lift their stateAbove a vulgar height. True happinessConsists not in the multitude of friends,But in their worth, and choice. Nor would I haveVirtue a popular regard pursue:Let them be good that love me, though but few.CRI. I kiss thy hands, divinest Arete,And vow myself to thee, and Cynthia. [EXEUNT.]
SCENE III.—ANOTHER APARTMENT IN THE SAME.ENTER AMORPHUS, FOLLOWED BY ASOTUS AND HIS TAILOR.AMO. A little more forward: so, sir. Now go in, discloakyourself, and come forth. [EXIT ASOTUS.] Tailor; bestowthy absence upon us; and be not prodigal of this secret,but to a dear customer.[EXIT TAILOR.]RE-ENTER ASOTUS.'Tis well enter'd sir. Stay, you come on too fast; your pace istoo impetuous. Imagine this to be the palace of your pleasure, orplace where your lady is pleased to be seen. First you presentyourself, thus: and spying her, you fall off, and walk some twoturns; in which time, it is to be supposed, your passion hathsufficiently whited your face, then, stifling a sigh or two, andclosing your lips, with a trembling boldness, and bold terror, youadvance yourself forward. Prove thus much, I pray you.ASO. Yes, sir;—pray Jove I can light on it! Here I come in,you say, and present myself?AMO. Good.ASO. And then I spy her, and walk off?AMO. Very good.ASO. Now, sir, I stifle, and advance forward?AMO. Trembling.ASO. Yes, sir, trembling; I shall do it better when I come to it.And what must I speak now?AMO. Marry, you shall say; "Dear Beauty", or "sweet Honour" (or bywhat other title you please to remember her), "methinks you aremelancholy". This is, if she be alone now, and discompanied.ASO. Well, sir, I'll enter again; her title shall be, "My dearLindabrides".AMO. Lindabrides!ASO. Ay, sir, the emperor Alicandroe's daughter, and the princeMeridian's sister, in "the Knight of the Sun"; she should have beenmarried to him, but that the princess Claridiana—AMO. O, you betray your reading.ASO. Nay, sir, I have read history, I am a little humanitian.Interrupt me not, good sir. "My dear Lindabrides,—my dearLindabrides,—my dear Lindabrides, methinks you are melancholy".AMO. Ay, and take her by the rosy finger'd hand.ASO. Must I so: O!—"My dear Lindabrides, methinks you aremelancholy".AMO. Or thus sir. "All variety of divine pleasures, choicesports, sweet music, rich fare, brave attire, soft beds, and silkenthoughts, attend this dear beauty."ASO. Believe me, that's pretty. "All variety of divine pleasures,choice sports, sweet music, rich fare, brave attire, soft beds, andsilken thoughts, attend this dear beauty."AMO. And then, offering to kiss her hand, if she shall coilyrecoil, and signify your repulse, you are to re-enforce yourselfwith,"More than most fair lady,Let not the rigour of your just disdainThus coarsely censure of your servant's zeal."And withal, protest her to be the only and absolute unparallel'dcreature you do adore, and admire, and respect, and reverence,in this court, corner of the world, or kingdom.ASO. This is hard, by my faith. I'll begin it all again.AMO. Do so, and I will act it for your lady.ASO. Will you vouchsafe, sir? "All variety of divine pleasures,choice sports, sweet music, rich fare, brave attire, soft beds, andsilken thoughts, attend this dear beauty."AMO. So sir, pray you, away.ASO. "More than most fair lady,Let not the rigour of your just disdainThus coarsely censure of your servant's zeal;I protest you are the only and absolute unapparell'd—"AMO. Unparallel'd.ASO. "Unparallel'd creature, I do adore, and admire, and respect,and reverence, in this corner of the world, or kingdom."AMO. This is, if she abide you. But now, put the case she shouldbe passant when you enter, as thus: you are to frame your gaitthereafter, and call upon her, "lady, nymph, sweet refuge, star ofour court." Then, if she be guardant, here; you are to come on,and, laterally disposing yourself, swear by her blushing andwell-coloured cheek, the bright dye of her hair, her ivory teeth,(though they be ebony,) or some such white and innocent oath, toinduce you. If regardant, then maintain your station, brisk andirpe, show the supple motion of your pliant body, but in chief ofyour knee, and hand, which cannot but arride her proud humourexceedingly.ASO. I conceive you sir. I shall perform all these things in goodtime, I doubt not, they do so hit me.AMO. Well sir, I am your lady; make use of any of thesebeginnings, or some other out of your own invention; and prove howyou can hold up, and follow it. Say, say.ASO. Yes sir. "My dear Lindabrides."AMO. No, you affect that Lindabrides too much; and let me tell youit is not so courtly. Your pedant should provide you some parcelsof French, or some pretty commodity of Italian, to commence with,if you would be exotic and exquisite.ASO. Yes, sir, he was at my lodging t'other morning, I gave him adoublet.AMO. Double your benevolence, and give him the hose too; clotheyou his body, he will help to apparel your mind. But now, see whatyour proper genius can perform alone, without adjection of anyother Minerva.ASO. I comprehend you sir.AMO. I do stand you, sir; fall back to your first place. Good,passing well: very properly pursued.ASO. "Beautiful, ambiguous, and sufficient lady, what! are you allalone?"AMO. "We would be, sir, if you would leave us."ASO. "I am at your beauty's appointment, bright angel; but—"AMO "What but?"ASO. "No harm, more than most fair feature."AMO. That touch relish'd well.ASO. "But I protest—"AMO. "And why should you protest?"ASO. "For good will, dear esteem'd madam, and I hope your ladyshipwill so conceive of it:And will, in time, return from your disdain,And rue the suff'rance of our friendly pain."AMO. O, that piece was excellent! If you could pick out more ofthese play-particles, and, as occasion shall salute you, embroideror damask your discourse with them, persuade your soul, it wouldmost judiciously commend you. Come, this was a well-discharged andauspicious bout. Prove the second.ASO. "Lady, I cannot ruffle it in red and yellow."AMO. "Why if you can revel it in white, sir, 'tis sufficient."ASO. "Say you so, sweet lady! Lan, tede, de, de, de, dant, dant,dant, dante. [SINGS AND DANCES.] No, in good faith, madam,whosever told your ladyship so, abused you; but I would be glad tomeet your ladyship in a measure."AMO. "Me sir! Belike you measure me by yourself, then?"ASO. "Would I might, fair feature."AMO. "And what were you the better, if you might?"ASO. "The better it please you to ask, fair lady."AMO. Why, this was ravishing, and most acutely continued. Well,spend not your humour too much, you have now competently exercisedyour conceit: this, once or twice a day, will render you anaccomplish'd, elaborate, and well-levell'd gallant. Convey inyour courting-stock, we will in the heat of this go visit thenymphs' chamber.