SCENE I.—THE SAME.ENTER MERCURY AND CRITES.MER. It is resolved on, Crites, you must do it.CRI. The grace divinest Mercury hath done me,In this vouchsafed discovery of himself,Binds my observance in the utmost termOf satisfaction to his godly will:Though I profess, without the affectationOf an enforced and form'd austerity,I could be willing to enjoy no placeWith so unequal natures.MER. We believe it.But for our sake, and to inflict just painsOn their prodigious follies, aid us now:No man is presently made bad with ill.And good men, like the sea, should still maintainTheir noble taste, in midst of all fresh humoursThat flow about them, to corrupt their streams,Bearing no season, much less salt of goodness.It is our purpose, Crites, to correct,And punish, with our laughter, this night's sport,Which our court-dors so heartily intend:And by that worthy scorn, to make them knowHow far beneath the dignity of manTheir serious and most practised actions are.CRI. Ay, but though Mercury can warrant outHis undertakings, and make all things good,Out of the powers of his divinity,Th' offence will be return'd with weight on me,That am a creature so despised and poor;When the whole court shall take itself abusedBy our ironical confederacy.MER. You are deceived. The better race in court,That have the true nobility call'd virtue,Will apprehend it, as a grateful rightDone to their separate merit; and approveThe fit rebuke of so ridiculous heads,Who, with their apish customs and forced garbs,Would bring the name of courtier in contempt,Did it not live unblemish'd in some few,Whom equal Jove hath loved, and Phoebus form'dOf better metal, and in better mould.CRI. Well, since my leader-on is Mercury,I shall not fear to follow. If I fall,My proper virtue shall be my relief,That follow'd such a cause, and such a chief.[EXEUNT.]
SCENE II.—ANOTHER ROOM IN THE SAME.ENTER ASOTUS AND AMORPHUS.ASO. No more, if you love me, good master; you are incompatible tolive withal: send me for the ladies!AMO. Nay, but intend me.ASO. Fear me not; I warrant you, sir.AMO. Render not yourself a refractory on the sudden. I can allow,well, you should repute highly, heartily, and to the most, of yourown endowments; it gives you forth to the world the more assured:but with reservation of an eye, to be always turn'd dutifully backupon your teacher.ASO. Nay, good sir, leave it to me. Trust me with trussing allthe points of this action, I pray. 'Slid, I hope we shall find witto perform the science as well as another.AMO. I confess you to be of an apted and docible humour. Yetthere are certain punctilios, or (as I may more nakedly insinuatethem) certain intrinsecate strokes and wards, to which youractivity is not yet amounted, as your gentle dor in colours. Forsupposition, your mistress appears here in prize, ribanded withgreen and yellow; now, it is the part of every obsequious servant,to be sure to have daily about him copy and variety of colours, tobe presently answerable to any hourly or half-hourly change in hismistress's revolution—ASO. I know it, sir.AMO. Give leave, I pray you—which, if your antagonist, orplayer against you, shall ignorantly be without, and yourself canproduce, you give him the dor.ASO. Ay, ay, sir.AMO. Or, if you can possess your opposite, that the green yourmistress wears, is her rejoicing or exultation in his service; theyellow, suspicion of his truth, from her height of affection: andthat he, greenly credulous, shall withdraw thus, in private, andfrom the abundance of his pocket (to displace her jealous conceit)steal into his hat the colour, whose blueness doth expresstrueness, she being not so, nor so affected; you give him the dor.ASO. Do not I know it, sir?AMO. Nay, good—swell not above your understanding. There isyet a third dor in colours.ASO. I know it too, I know it.AMO. Do you know it too? what is it? make good your knowledge.ASO. Why it is—no matter for that.AMO. Do it, on pain of the dor.ASO. Why; what is't, say you?AMO. Lo, you have given yourself the dor. But I will remonstrateto you the third dor, which is not, as the two former dors,indicative, but deliberative: as how? as thus. Your rival is,with a dutiful and serious care, lying in his bed, meditating howto observe his mistress, dispatcheth his lacquey to the chamberearly, to know what her colours are for the day, with purpose toapply his wear that day accordingly: you lay wait before,preoccupy the chamber-maid, corrupt her to return false colours; hefollows the fallacy, comes out accoutred to his believedinstructions; your mistress smiles, and you give him the dor.ASO. Why, so I told you, sir, I knew it.AMO. Told me! It is a strange outrecuidance, your humour too muchredoundeth.ASO. Why, sir, what, do you think you know more?AMO. I know that a cook may as soon and properly be said to smellwell, as you to be wise. I know these are most clear and cleanstrokes. But then, you have your passages and imbrocatas incourtship; as the bitter bob in wit; the reverse in face orwry-mouth; and these more subtile and secure offenders. I willexample unto you: Your opponent makes entry as you are engagedwith your mistress. You seeing him, close in her ear with thiswhisper, "Here comes your baboon, disgrace him"; and withalstepping off, fall on his bosom, and turning to her, politely,aloud say, Lady, regard this noble gentleman, a man rarely parted,second to none in this court; and then, stooping over his shoulder,your hand on his breast, your mouth on his backside, you give himthe reverse stroke, with this sanna, or stork's-bill, which makesup your wit's bob most bitter.ASO. Nay, for heaven's sake, teach me no more. I know all as well—'Slid, if I did not, why was I nominated? why did you choose me?why did the ladies prick out me? I am sure there were othergallants. But me of all the rest! By that light, and, as I am acourtier, would I might never stir, but 'tis strange. Would to thelord the ladies would come once!ENTER MORPHIDES.MORP. Signior, the gallants and ladies are at hand. Are youready, sir?AMO. Instantly. Go, accomplish your attire: [EXIT ASOTUS.]Cousin Morphides, assist me to make good the door with yourofficious tyranny.CITIZEN. [WITHIN.] By your leave, my masters there, pray youlet's come by.PAGES. [WITHIN.] You by! why should you come by more than we?CITIZEN'S WIFE. [WITHIN.] Why, sir! because he is my brotherthat plays the prizes.MORP. Your brother!CITIZEN. [WITHIN.] Ay, her brother, sir, and we must come in.TAILOR. [WITHIN.] Why, what are you?CITIZEN. [WITHIN.] I am her husband, sir.TAILOR. [WITHIN.] Then thrust forward your head.AMO. What tumult is there?MORP. Who's there? bear back there! Stand from the door!AMO. Enter none but the ladies and their hang-byes.—ENTER PHANTASTE, PHILAUTIA, ARGURION, MORIA, HEDON, AND ANAIDES,INTRODUCING TWO LADIES.Welcome beauties, and your kind shadows.HED. This country lady, my friend, good signior Amorphus.ANA. And my cockatrice here.AMO. She is welcome.THE CITIZEN, AND HIS WIFE, PAGES, ETC., APPEAR AT THE DOOR.MORP. Knock those same pages there; and, goodman coxcomb thecitizen, who would you speak withal?WIFE. My brother.AMO. With whom? your brother!MORP. Who is your brother?WIFE. Master Asotus.AMO. Master Asotus! is he your brother? he is taken up withgreat persons; he is not to know you to-night.RE-ENTER ASOTUS HASTILY.ASO. O Jove, master! an there come e'er a citizen gentlewoman inmy name, let her have entrance, I pray you: it is my sister.WIFE. Brother!CIT. [THRUSTING IN.] Brother, master Asotus!ASO. Who's there?WIFE. 'Tis I, brother.ASO. Gods me, there she is! good master, intrude her.MORP. Make place! bear back there!ENTER CITIZEN'S WIFE.AMO. Knock that simple fellow there.WIFE. Nay, good sir, it is my husband.MORP. The simpler fellow he.—Away! back with your head, sir![PUSHES THE CITIZEN BACK.]ASO. Brother, you must pardon your non-entry: husbands are notallow'd here, in truth. I'll come home soon with my sister: prayyou meet us with a lantern, brother. Be merry, sister: I shallmake you laugh anon. [EXIT.]PHA. Your prizer is not ready, Amorphus.AMO. Apprehend your places; he shall be soon, and at all points.ANA. Is there any body come to answer him? shall we have anysport?AMO. Sport of importance; howsoever, give me the gloves.HED. Gloves! why gloves, signior?PHI. What's the ceremony?AMO. [DISTRIBUTING GLOVES.] Beside their received fitness, at allprizes, they are here properly accommodate to the nuptials of myscholar's 'haviour to the lady Courtship. Please you apparel yourhands. Madam Phantaste, madam Philautia, guardian, signior Hedon,signior Anaides, gentlemen all, ladies.ALL. Thanks, good Amorphus.AMO. I will now call forth my provost, and present him.[EXIT.]ANA. Heart! why should not we be masters as well as he?HED. That's true, and play our masters' prizes as well as thet'other?MOR. In sadness, for using your court-weapons, methinks you may.PHA. Nay, but why should not we ladies play our prizes, I pray? Isee no reason but we should take them down at their own weapons.PHI. Troth, and so we may, if we handle them well.WIFE. Ay, indeed, forsooth, madam, if 'twere in the city, we wouldthink foul scorn but we would, forsooth.PHA. Pray you, what should we call your name?WIFE. My name is Downfall.HED. Good mistress Downfall! I am sorry your husband could notget in.WIFE. 'Tis no matter for him, sir.ANA. No, no, she has the more liberty for herself.[A FLOURISH.]PHA. Peace, peace! they come.RE-ENTER AMORPHUS, INTRODUCING ASOTUS IN A FULL-DRESS SUIT.AMO. So, keep up your ruff; the tincture of your neck is not allso pure, but it will ask it. Maintain your sprig upright; yourcloke on your half-shoulder falling; so: I will read your bill,advance it, and present you.—Silence!"Be it known to all that profess courtship, by these presents (fromthe white satin reveller, to the cloth of tissue and bodkin) thatwe, Ulysses-Polytropus-Amorphus, master of the noble and subtilescience of courtship, do give leave and licence to our provost,Acolastus-Polypragmon-Asotus, to play his master's prize, againstall masters whatsoever, in this subtile mystery, at these four, thechoice and most cunning weapons of court-compliment, viz. the BAREACCOST; the BETTER REGARD; the SOLEMN ADDRESS; and thePERFECT CLOSE. These are therefore to give notice to all comers,that he, the said Acolastus-Polypragmon-Asotus, is here present (bythe help of his mercer, tailor, milliner, sempster, and so forth)at his designed hour, in this fair gallery, the present day of thispresent month, to perform and do his uttermost for the achievementand bearing away of the prizes, which are these: viz. For theBare Accost, two wall-eyes in a face forced: for the BetterRegard, a face favourably simpering, with a fan waving: for theSolemn Address, two lips wagging, and never a wise word: for thePerfect Close, a wring by the hand, with a banquet in a corner.And Phoebus save Cynthia!"Appeareth no man yet, to answer the prizer? no voice?—Music,give them their summons.[MUSIC.]PHA. The solemnity of this is excellent.AMO. Silence! Well, I perceive your name is their terror, andkeepeth them back.ASO. I'faith, master, let's go; no body comes. 'Victus, victa,victum; victi, victae, victi—let's be retrograde.AMO. Stay. That were dispunct to the ladies. Rather ourselfshall be your encounter. Take your state up to the wall; and,lady, [LEADING MORIA TO THE STATE.] may we implore you to standforth, as first term or bound to our courtship.HED. 'Fore heaven, 'twill shew rarely.AMO. Sound a charge. [A CHARGE.]ANA. A pox on't! Your vulgar will count this fabulous andimpudent now: by that candle, they'll never conceit it.[THEY ACT THEIR ACCOST SEVERALLY TO MORIA.]PHA. Excellent well! admirable!PHI. Peace!HED. Most fashionably, believe it.PHI. O, he is a well-spoken gentleman.PHA. Now the other.PHI. Very good.HED. For a scholar, Honour.ANA. O, 'tis too Dutch. He reels too much. [A FLOURISH.]HED. This weapon is done.AMO. No, we have our two bouts at every weapon; expect.CRI. [WITHIN.] Where be these gallants, and their brave prizerhere?MORP. Who's there? bear back; keep the door.ENTER CRITES, INTRODUCING MERCURY FANTASTICALLY DRESSED.AMO. What are you, sir?CRI. By your license, grand-master.—Come forward, sir.[TO MERCURY.]ANA. Heart! who let in that rag there amongst us? Put him out,an impecunious creature.HED. Out with him.MORP. Come, sir.AMO. You must be retrograde.CRI. Soft, sir, I am truchman, and do flourish before thismonsieur, or French-behaved gentleman, here; who is drawn hither byreport of your chartels, advanced in court, to prove his fortunewith your prizer, so he may have fair play shewn him, and theliberty to choose his stickler.AMO. Is he a master?CRI. That, sir, he has to shew here; and confirmed under the handsof the most skilful and cunning complimentaries alive: Please youread, sir. [GIVES HIM A CERTIFICATE.]AMO. What shall we do?ANA. Death! disgrace this fellow in the black stuff, whatever youdo.AMO. Why, but he comes with the stranger.HED. That's no matter: he is our own countryman.ANA. Ay, and he is a scholar besides. You may disgrace him herewith authority.AMO. Well, see these first.ASO. Now shall I be observed by yon scholar, till I sweat again; Iwould to Jove it were over.CRI. [TO MERCURY.] Sir, this is the wight of worth, that daresyou to the encounter. A gentleman of so pleasing and ridiculous acarriage; as, even standing, carries meat in the mouth, you see;and, I assure you, although no bred courtling, yet a mostparticular man, of goodly havings, well-fashion'd 'haviour, and ofas hardened and excellent a bark as the most naturally qualifiedamongst them, inform'd, reform'd, and transform'd, from hisoriginal citycism; by this elixir, or mere magazine of man. And,for your spectators, you behold them what they are: the mostchoice particulars in court: this tells tales well; this providescoaches; this repeats jests; this presents gifts; this holds up thearras; this takes down from horse; this protests by this light;this swears by that candle; this delighteth; this adoreth: yet allbut three men. Then, for your ladies, the most proud, wittycreatures, all things apprehending, nothing understanding,perpetually laughing, curious maintainers of fools, mercers, andminstrels, costly to be kept, miserably keeping, all disdaining buttheir painter and apothecary, 'twixt whom and them there is thisreciprock commerce, their beauties maintain their painters, andtheir painters their beauties.MER. Sir, you have plaid the painter yourself, and limn'd them tothe life. I desire to deserve before them.AMO. [RETURNING THE CERTIFICATE.] This is authentic. We mustresolve to entertain the monsieur, howsoever we neglect him.HED. Come, let's all go together, and salute him.ANA. Content, and not look on the other.AMO. Well devised; and a most punishing disgrace.HED. On.AMO. Monsieur, we must not so much betray ourselves todiscourtship, as to suffer you to be longer unsaluted: please youto use the state ordain'd for the opponent; in which nature,without envy, we receive you.HED. And embrace you.ANA. And commend us to you, sir.PHI. Believe it, he is a man of excellent silence.PHA. He keeps all his wit for action.ANA. This hath discountenanced our scholaris, most richly.HED. Out of all emphasis. The monsieur sees we regard him not.AMO. Hold on; make it known how bitter a thing it is not to belook'd on in court.HED. 'Slud, will he call him to him yet! Does not monsieurperceive our disgrace?ANA. Heart! he is a fool, I see. We have done ourselves wrong tograce him.HED. 'Slight, what an ass was I to embrace him!CRI. Illustrious and fearful judges—HED. Turn away, turn away.CRI. It is the suit of the strange opponent (to whom you ought notto turn your tails, and whose noses I must follow) that he may havethe justice, before he encounter his respected adversary, to seesome light stroke of his play, commenced with some other.HED. Answer not him, but the stranger: we will not believe him.AMO. I will demand him, myself.CRI. O dreadful disgrace, if a man were so foolish to feel it.AMO. Is it your suit, monsieur, to see some prelude of my scholar?Now, sure the monsieur wants language—HED. And take upon him to be one of the accomplished! 'Slight,that's a good jest; would we could take him with that nullity.—"Non sapete voi parlar' Italiano?"ANA. 'Sfoot, the carp has no tongue.CRI. Signior, in courtship, you are to bid your abettors forbear,and satisfy the monsieur's request.AMO. Well, I will strike him more silent with admiration, andterrify his daring hither. He shall behold my own play with myscholar. Lady, with the touch of your white hand, let me reinstateyou. [LEADS MORIA BACK TO THE STATE.] Provost, [TO ASOTUS.] beginto me at the "Bare Accost". [A CHARGE.] Now, for the honour of mydiscipline.HED. Signior Amorphus, reflect, reflect; what means he by thatmouthed wave?CRI. He is in some distaste of your fellow disciple.MER. Signior, your scholar might have played well still, if hecould have kept his seat longer; I have enough of him, now. He isa mere piece of glass, I see through him by this time.AMO. You come not to give us the scorn, monsieur?MER. Nor to be frighted with a face, signior. I have seen thelions. You must pardon me. I shall be loth to hazard a reputationwith one that has not a reputation to lose.AMO. How!CRI. Meaning your pupil, sir.ANA. This is that black devil there.AMO. You do offer a strange affront, monsieur.CRI. Sir, he shall yield you all the honour of a competentadversary, if you please to undertake him.MER. I am prest for the encounter.AMO. Me! challenge me!ASO. What, my master, sir! 'Slight, monsieur, meddle with me, doyou hear: but do not meddle with my master.MER. Peace, good squib, go out.CRI. And stink, he bids you.ASO. Master!AMO. Silence! I do accept him. Sit you down and observe. Me!he never profest a thing at more charges.—Prepare yourself sir.—Challenge me! I will prosecute what disgrace my hatred candictate to me.CRI. How tender a traveller's spleen is! Comparison to men thatdeserve least, is ever most offensive.AMO. You are instructed in our chartel, and know our weapons?MER. I appear not without their notice, sir.ASO. But must I lose the prizes, master?AMO. I will win them for you; be patient.—Lady, [TO MORIA.]vouchsafe the tenure of this ensign.—Who shall be your stickler?MER. Behold him. [POINTS TO CRITES.]AMO. I would not wish you a weaker.—Sound, musics.—I provokeyou at the Bare Accost. [A CHARGE.]PHA. Excellent comely!CRI. And worthily studied. This is the exalted foretop.HED. O, his leg was too much produced.ANA. And his hat was carried scurvily.PHI. Peace; let's see the monsieur's Accost: Rare!PHA. Sprightly and short.ANA. True, it is the French courteau: he lacks but to have hisnose slit.HED. He does hop. He does bound too much. [A FLOURISH.]AMO. The second bout, to conclude this weapon. [A CHARGE.]PHA. Good, believe it!PHI. An excellent offer!CRI. This is called the solemn band-string.HED. Foh, that cringe was not put home.ANA. He makes a face like a stabb'd Lucrece.ASO. Well, he would needs take it upon him, but would I had doneit for all this. He makes me sit still here, like a baboon as Iam.CRI. Making villainous faces.PHI. See, the French prepares it richly.CRI. Ay, this is ycleped the Serious Trifle.ANA. 'Slud, 'tis the horse-start out o' the brown study.CRI. Rather the bird-eyed stroke, sir. Your observance is tooblunt, sir. [A FLOURISH.]AMO. Judges, award the prize. Take breath, sir. This bout hathbeen laborious.ASO. And yet your critic, or your besongno, will think thesethings foppery, and easy, now!CRI. Or rather mere lunacy. For would any reasonable creaturemake these his serious studies and perfections, much less, onlylive to these ends? to be the false pleasure of a few, the truelove of none, and the just laughter of all?HED. We must prefer the monsieur, we courtiers must be partial.ANA. Speak, guardian. Name the prize, at the Bare Accost.MOR. A pair of wall-eyes in a face forced.ANA. Give the monsieur. Amorphus hath lost his eyes.AMO. I! Is the palate of your judgment down? Gentles, I doappeal.ASO. Yes, master, to me: the judges be fools.ANA. How now, sir! tie up your tongue, mungrel. He cannotappeal.ASO. Say, you sir?ANA. Sit you still, sir.ASO. Why, so I do; do not I, I pray you?MER. Remercie, madame, and these honourable censors.AMO. Well, to the second weapon, the "Better Regard". I willencounter you better. Attempt.HED. Sweet Honour.PHI. What says my good Ambition?HED. Which take you at this next weapon? I lay a Discretion withyou on Amorphus's head.PHI. Why, I take the French-behaved gentleman.HED. 'Tis done, a Discretion.CRI. A Discretion! A pretty court-wager! Would any discreetperson hazard his wit so?PHA. I'll lay a Discretion with you, Anaides.ANA. Hang 'em, I'll not venture a doit of Discretion on either oftheir heads.CRI. No, he should venture all then.ANA. I like none of their plays. [A CHARGE.]HED. See, see! this is strange play!ANA. 'Tis too full of uncertain motion. He hobbles too much.CRI. 'Tis call'd your court-staggers, sir.HED. That same fellow talks so now he has a place!ANA. Hang him! neglect him.MER. "Your good ladyship's affectioned."WIFE. Ods so! they speak at this weapon, brother.ASO. They must do so, sister; how should it be the Better Regard,else?PHA. Methinks he did not this respectively enough.PHI. Why, the monsieur but dallies with him.HED. Dallies! 'Slight, see! he'll put him to't in earnest.—Well done, Amorphus!ANA. That puff was good indeed.CRI. Ods me! this is desperate play: he hits himself o' theshins.HED. An he make this good through, he carries it, I warrant him.CRI. Indeed he displays his feet rarely.HED. See, see! he does the respective leer damnably well.AMO. "The true idolater of your beauties shall never pass theirdeities unadored: I rest your poor knight."HED. See, now the oblique leer, or the Janus: he satisfies allwith that aspect most nobly. [A FLOURISH.]Cri. And most terribly he comes off; like your rodomontado.PHA. How like you this play, Anaides?ANA. Good play; but 'tis too rough and boisterous.AMO. I will second it with a stroke easier, wherein I will provehis language. [A CHARGE.]ANA. This is filthy, and grave, now.HED. O, 'tis cool and wary play. We must not disgrace our owncamerade too much.AMO. "Signora, ho tanto obligo per le favore resciuto da lei; cheveramente desidero con tutto il core, a remunerarla in parte: esicurative, signora mea cara, che io sera sempre pronto a servirla,e honorarla. Bascio le mane de vo' signoria."CRI. The Venetian dop this.PHA. Most unexpectedly excellent! The French goes down certain.ASO. As buckets are put down into a well;Or as a school-boy—CRI. Truss up your simile, jack-daw, and observe.HED. Now the monsieur is moved.ANA. Bo-peep!HED. O, most antick.CRI. The French quirk, this sir.ANA. Heart, he will over-run her.MER. "Madamoyselle, Je voudroy que pouvoy monstrer mon affection,mais je suis tant malhereuse, ci froid, ci layd, ci—Je ne scayqui de dire—excuse moi, Je suis tout vostre." [A FLOURISH.]PHI. O brave and spirited! he's a right Jovialist.PHA. No, no: Amorphus's gravity outweighs it.CRI. And yet your lady, or your feather, would outweigh both.ANA. What's the prize, lady, at this Better Regard?MOR. A face favourably simpering, and a fan waving.ANA. They have done doubtfully. Divide. Give the favourable faceto the signior, and the light wave to the monsieur.AMO. You become the simper well, lady.MER. And the wag better.AMO. Now, to our "Solemn Address." Please the well-gracedPhilautia to relieve the lady sentinel; she hath stood long.PHI. With all my heart; come, guardian, resign your place.[MORIA COMES FROM THE STATE.]AMO. Monsieur, furnish yourself with what solemnity of ornamentyou think fit for this third weapon; at which you are to shew allthe cunning of stroke your devotion can possibly devise.MER. Let me alone, sir. I'll sufficiently decipher your amoroussolemnities.—Crites, have patience. See, if I hit not all theirpractic observance, with which they lime twigs to catch theirfantastic lady-birds.CRI. Ay, but you should do more charitably to do it more openly,that they might discover themselves mock'd in these monstrousaffections. [A CHARGE.]MER. Lackey, where's the tailor?ENTER TAILOR, BARBER, PERFUMER, MILLINER, JEWELLER, ANDFEATHER-MAKER.TAI. Here, sir.HED. See, they have their tailor, barber, perfumer, milliner,jeweller, feather-maker, all in common![THEY MAKE THEMSELVES READY ON THE STAGE.]ANA. Ay, this is pretty.AMO. Here is a hair too much, take it off. Where are thy mullets?MER. Is this pink of equal proportion to this cut, standing offthis distance from it?TAI. That it is, sir.MER. Is it so, sir? You impudent poltroon, you slave, you list,you shreds, you—[BEATS THE TAILOR.]HED. Excellent! This was the best yet.ANA. Why, we must use our tailors thus: this is our truemagnanimity.MER. Come, go to, put on; we must bear with you for the times'sake.AMO. Is the perfume rich in this jerkin?PER. Taste, smell; I assure you, sir, pure benjamin, the onlyspirited scent that ever awaked a Neapolitan nostril. You wouldwish yourself all nose for the love on't. I frotted a jerkin for anew-revenued gentleman yielded me three-score crowns but thismorning, and the same titillation.AMO. I savour no sampsuchine in it.PER. I am a Nulli-fidian, if there be not three-thirds of ascruple more of sampsuchinum in this confection, than ever I put inany. I'll tell you all the ingredients, sir.AMO. You shall be simple to discover your simples.PER. Simple! why, sir? What reck I to whom I discover? I haveit in musk, civet, amber, Phoenicobalanus, the decoction ofturmerick, sesana, nard, spikenard, calamus odoratus, stacte,opobalsamum, amomum, storax, ladanum, aspalathum, opoponax,oenanthe. And what of all these now? what are you the better?Tut, it is the sorting, and the dividing, and the mixing, and thetempering, and the searching, and the decocting, that makes thefumigation and the suffumigation.AMO. Well, indue me with it.PER. I will, sir.HED. An excellent confection.CRI. And most worthy a true voluptuary, Jove! what a coil thesemusk-worms take to purchase another's delight? for themselves, whobear the odours, have ever the least sense of them. Yet I do likebetter the prodigality of jewels and clothes, whereof one passethto a man's heirs; the other at least wears out time. Thispresently expires, and, without continual riot in reparation, islost: which whoso strives to keep, it is one special argument tome, that, affecting to smell better than other men, he doth indeedsmell far worse.MER. I know you will say, it sits well, sir.TAI. Good faith, if it do not, sir, let your mistress be judge.MER. By heaven, if my mistress do not like it, I'll make no moreconscience to undo thee, than to undo an oyster.TAI. Believe it, there's ne'er a mistress in the world can mislikeit.MER. No, not goodwife tailor, your mistress; that has only thejudgment to heat your pressing-tool. But for a court-mistress thatstudies these decorums, and knows the proportion of every cut to ahair, knows why such a colour is cut upon such a colour, and when asatin is cut upon six taffataes, will look that we should dive intothe depth of the cut—Give me my scarf. Shew some ribands,sirrah. Have you the feather?FEAT. Ay, sir.MER. Have you the jewel?JEW. Yes, sir.MER. What must I give for the hire on't?JEW. You shall give me six crowns, sir.MER. Six crowns! By heaven, 'twere a good deed to borrow it ofthee to shew, and never let thee have it again.JEW. I hope your worship will not do so, sir.MER. By Jove, sir, there be such tricks stirring, I can tell you,and worthily too. Extorting knaves, that live by thesecourt-decorums, and yet—What's your jewel worth, I pray?JEW. A hundred crowns, sir.MER. A hundred crowns, and six for the loan on't an hour! what'sthat in the hundred for the year? These impostors would not behang'd! Your thief is not comparable to them, by Hercules. Well,put it in, and the feather; you will have it and you shall, and thepox give you good on't!AMO. Give me my confects, my moscadini, and place those colours inmy hat.MER. These are Bolognian ribands, I warrant you.MIL. In truth, sir, if they be not right Granado silk—MER. A pox on you, you'll all say so.MIL. You give me not a penny, sir.MER. Come, sir, perfume my devant;"May it ascend, like solemn sacrifice,Into the nostrils of the Queen of Love!"HED. Your French ceremonies are the best.ANA. Monsieur, signior, your Solemn Address is too long; theladies long to have you come on.AMO. Soft, sir, our coming on is not so easily prepared. SigniorFig!PER. Ay, sir.AMO. Can you help my complexion, here?PER. O yes, sir, I have an excellent mineral fucus for thepurpose. The gloves are right, sir; you shall bury them in amuck-hill, a draught, seven years, and take them out and wash them,they shall still retain their first scent, true Spanish. There'sambre in the umbre.MER. Your price, sweet Fig?PER. Give me what you will, sir; the signior pays me two crowns apair; you shall give me your love, sir.MER. My love! with a pox to you, goodman Sassafras.PER. I come, sir. There's an excellent diapasm in a chain, too,if you like it.AMO. Stay, what are the ingredients to your fucus?PER. Nought but sublimate and crude mercury, sir, well preparedand dulcified, with the jaw-bones of a sow, burnt, beaten, andsearced.AMO. I approve it. Lay it on.MER. I'll have your chain of pomander, sirrah; what's your price?PER. We'll agree, monsieur; I'll assure you it was both decoctedand dried where no sun came, and kept in an onyx ever since it wasballed.MER. Come, invert my mustachio, and we have done.AMO. 'Tis good.BAR. Hold still, I pray you, sir.PER. Nay, the fucus is exorbitant, sir.MER. Death, dost thou burn me, harlot!BAR. I beseech you, sir.MER. Beggar, varlet, poltroon. [BEATS HIM.]HED. Excellent, excellent!ANA. Your French beat is the most natural beat of the world.ASO. O that I had played at this weapon. [A CHARGE.]PHA. Peace, now they come on; the second part.AMO. "Madam, your beauties being so attractive, I muse you areleft thus alone."PHI. "Better be alone, sir, than ill accompanied."AMO. "Nought can be ill, lady, that can come near your goodness."MER. "Sweet madam, on what part of you soever a man casts his eye,he meets with perfection; you are the lively image of Venusthroughout; all the graces smile in your cheeks; your beautynourishes as well as delights; you have a tongue steeped in honey,and a breath like a panther; your breasts and forehead are whiterthan goats' milk, or May blossoms; a cloud is not so soft as yourskin—"HED. Well strook, monsieur! He charges like a Frenchman indeed,thick and hotly.MER. "Your cheeks are Cupid's baths, wherein he uses to steephimself in milk and nectar: he does light all his torches at youreyes, and instructs you how to shoot and wound with their beams.Yet I love nothing in you more than your innocence; you retain sonative a simplicity, so unblamed a behaviour! Methinks, with sucha love, I should find no head, nor foot of my pleasure: you arethe very spirit of a lady."ANA. Fair play, monsieur, you are too hot on the quarry; give yourcompetitor audience.AMO. "Lady, how stirring soever the monsieur's tongue is, he willlie by your side more dull than your eunuch."ANA. A good stroke; that mouth was excellently put over.AMO. "You are fair, lady—"CRI. You offer foul, signior, to close; keep your distance; forall your bravo rampant here.AMO. "I say you are fair, lady, let your choice be fit, as you arefair."MER. "I say ladies do never believe they are fair, till some foolbegins to doat upon them."PHI. You play too rough, gentlemen.AMO. "Your frenchified fool is your only fool, lady: I do yieldto this honourable monsieur in all civil and humane courtesy."[A FLOURISH.]MER. Buz!ANA. Admirable. Give him the prize, give him the prize: thatmouth again was most courtly hit, and rare.AMO. I knew I should pass upon him with the bitter bob.HED. O, but the reverse was singular.PHA. It was most subtile, Amorphus.ASO. If I had done't, it should have been better.MER. How heartily they applaud this, Crites!CRI. You suffer them too long.MER. I'll take off their edge instantly.ANA. Name the prize, at the "Solemn Address."PHI. Two lips wagging.CRI. And never a wise word, I take it.ANA. Give to Amorphus. And, upon him again; let him not draw freebreath.AMO. Thanks, fair deliverer, and my honourable judges. MadamPhantaste, you are our worthy object at this next weapon.PHA. Most covetingly ready, Amorphus.[SHE TAKES THE STATE INSTEAD OF PHILAUTIA.]HED. Your monsieur is crest-fallen.ANA. So are most of them once a year.AMO. You will see, I shall now give him the gentle Dor presently,he forgetting to shift the colours, which are now changed withalteration of the mistress. At your last weapon, sir. "ThePerfect Close." Set forward. [A CHARGE.] Intend your approach,monsieur.MER. 'Tis yours, signior.AMO. With your example, sir.MER. Not I, sir.AMO. It is your right.MER. By no possible means.AMO. You have the way.MER. As I am noble—AMO. As I am virtuous—MER. Pardon me, sir.AMO. I will die first.MER. You are a tyrant in courtesy.AMO. He is removed.—[STAYS MERCURY ON HIS MOVING.]—Judges,bear witness.MER. What of that, sir?AMO. You are removed, sir.MER. Well.AMO. I challenge you; you have received the Dor. Give me theprize.MER. Soft, sir. How, the Dor?AMO. The common mistress, you see, is changed.MER. Right, sir.AMO. And you have still in your hat the former colours.MER. You lie, sir, I have none: I have pulled them out. I meantto play discoloured. [A FLOURISH.]CRI. The Dor, the Dor, the Dor, the Dor, the Dor, the palpableDor!ANA. Heart of my blood, Amorphus, what have you done? stuck adisgrace upon us all, and at your last weapon!ASO. I could have done no more.HED. By heaven, it was most unfortunate luck.ANA. Luck! by that candle, it was mere rashness, and oversight;would any man have ventured to play so open, and forsake his ward?D—n me, if he have not eternally undone himself in court, anddiscountenanced us that were his main countenance, by it.AMO. Forgive it now: it was the solecism of my stars.CRI. The wring by the hand, and the banquet, is ours.MER. O, here's a lady feels like a wench of the first year; youwould think her hand did melt in your touch; and the bones of herfingers ran out at length when you prest 'em, they are so gentlydelicate! He that had the grace to print a kiss on these lips,should taste wine and rose-leaves. O, she kisses as close as acockle. Let's take them down, as deep as our hearts, wench, tillour very souls mix. Adieu, signior: good faith I shall drink toyou at supper, sir.ANA. Stay, monsieur. Who awards you the prize?CRI. Why, his proper merit, sir; you see he has played down yourgrand garb-master, here.ANA. That's not in your logic to determine, sir: you are nocourtier. This is none of your seven or nine beggarly sciences, buta certain mystery above them, wherein we that have skill mustpronounce, and not such fresh men as you are.CRI. Indeed, I must declare myself to you no profest courtling;nor to have any excellent stroke at your subtile weapons; yet ifyou please, I dare venture a hit with you, or your fellow, sirDagonet, here.ANA. With me!CRI. Yes, sir.ANA. Heart, I shall never have such a fortune to save myself in afellow again, and your two reputations, gentlemen, as in this.I'll undertake him.HED. Do, and swinge him soundly, good Anaides.ANA. Let me alone; I'll play other manner of play, than has beenseen yet. I would the prize lay on't.MER. It shall if you will, I forgive my right.ANA. Are you so confident! what's your weapon?CRI. At any, I, sir.MER. The Perfect Close, that's now the best.ANA. Content, I'll pay your scholarity. Who offers?CRI. Marry, that will I: I dare give you that advantage too.ANA. You dare! well, look to your liberal sconce.AMO. Make your play still, upon the answer, sir.ANA. Hold your peace, you are a hobby-horse.ASO. Sit by me, master.MER. Now, Crites, strike home. [A CHARGE.]CRI. You shall see me undo the assured swaggerer with a trick,instantly: I will play all his own play before him; court the wenchin his garb, in his phrase, with his face; leave him not so much asa look, an eye, a stalk, or an imperfect oath, to express himselfby, after me. [ASIDE TO MERCURY.]MER. Excellent, Crites.ANA. When begin you, sir? have you consulted?CRI. To your cost, sir. Which is the piece stands forth to becourted? O, are you she? [TO PHILAUTIA.] "Well, madam, or sweetlady, it is so, I do love you in some sort, do you conceive? andthough I am no monsieur, nor no signior, and do want, as they say,logic and sophistry, and good words, to tell you why it is so; yetby this hand and by that candle it is so: and though I be nobook-worm, nor one that deals by art, to give you rhetoric andcauses, why it should be so, or make it good it is so? yet, d—nme, but I know it is so, and am assured it is so, and I and mysword shall make it appear it is so, and give you reason sufficienthow it can be no otherwise but so—"HED. 'Slight, Anaides, you are mocked, and so we are all.MER. How now, signior! what, suffer yourself to be cozened ofyour courtship before your face?HED. This is plain confederacy to disgrace us: let's be gone, andplot some revenge.AMO. "When men disgraces share,The lesser is the care."CRI. Nay, stay, my dear Ambition, [TO HEDON.] I can do you overtoo. You that tell your mistress, her beauty is all composed oftheft; her hair stole from Apollo's goldy-locks; her white and red,lilies and roses stolen out of paradise; her eyes two stars,pluck'd from the sky; her nose the gnomon of Love's dial, thattells you how the clock of your heart goes: and for her otherparts, as you cannot reckon them, they are so many; so you cannotrecount them, they are so manifest. Yours, if his own, unfortunateHoyden, instead of Hedon. [A FLOURISH.]ASO. Sister, come away, I cannot endure them longer.[EXEUNT ALL BUT MERCURY AND CRITES.]MER. Go, Dors, and you, my madam Courting-stocks,Follow your scorned and derided mates;Tell to your guilty breasts, what mere gilt blocksYou are, and how unworthy human states.CRI. Now, sacred God of Wit, if you can makeThose, whom our sports tax in these apish graces,Kiss, like the fighting snakes, your peaceful rod,These times shall canonise you for a god.MER. Why, Crites, think you any noble spirit,Or any, worth the title of a man,Will be incensed to see the enchanted veilsOf self-conceit, and servile flattery,Wrapt in so many folds by time and custom,Drawn from his wronged and bewitched eyes?Who sees not now their shape and nakedness,Is blinder than the son of earth, the mole;Crown'd with no more humanity, nor soul.CRI. Though they may see it, yet the huge estateFancy, and form, and sensual pride have gotten,Will make them blush for anger, not for shame,And turn shewn nakedness to impudence.Humour is now the test we try things in:All power is just: nought that delights is sin.And yet the zeal of every knowing manOpprest with hills of tyranny, cast on virtueBy the light fancies of fools, thus transported.Cannot but vent the Aetna of his fires,T'inflame best bosoms with much worthier loveThan of these outward and effeminate shades;That these vain joys, in which their wills consumeSuch powers of wit and soul as are of forceTo raise their beings to eternity,May be converted on works fitting men:And, for the practice of a forced look,An antic gesture, or a fustian phrase,Study the native frame of a true heart,An inward comeliness of bounty, knowledge,And spirit that may conform them actuallyTo God's high figures, which they have in power;Which to neglect for a self-loving neatness,Is sacrilege of an unpardon'd greatness.MER. Then let the truth of these things strengthen thee,In thy exempt and only man-like course;Like it the more, the less it is respected:Though men fail, virtue is by gods protected.—See, here comes Arete; I'll withdraw myself. [EXIT.]ENTER ARETE.ARE. Crites, you must provide straight for a masque,'Tis Cynthia's pleasure.CRI. How, bright Arete!Why, 'twere a labour more for Hercules:Better and sooner durst I undertakeTo make the different seasons of the year,The winds, or elements, to sympathise,Than their unmeasurable vanityDance truly in a measure. They agree!What though all concord's born of contraries;So many follies will confusion prove,And like a sort of jarring instruments,All out of tune; because, indeed, we seeThere is not that analogy 'twixt discords,As between things but merely opposite.ARE. There is your error: for as Hermes' wandCharms the disorders of tumultuous ghosts;And as the strife of Chaos then did cease,When better light than Nature's did arrive:So, what could never in itself agree,Forgetteth the eccentric property,And at her sight turns forth with regular,Whose sceptre guides the flowing ocean:And though it did not, yet the most of themBeing either courtiers, or not wholly rude,Respect of majesty, the place, and presence,Will keep them within ring; especiallyWhen they are not presented as themselves,But masqued like others: for, in troth, not soTo incorporate them, could be nothing else,Than like a state ungovern'd, without laws;Or body made of nothing but diseases:The one, through impotency, poor and wretched;The other, for the anarchy, absurd.CRI. But, lady, for the revellers themselves,It would be better, in my poor conceit,That others were employ'd; for such as areUnfit to be in Cynthia's court, can seemNo less unfit to be in Cynthia's sports.ARE. That, Crites, is not purposed withoutParticular knowledge of the goddess' mind;Who holding true intelligence, what folliesHad crept into her palace, she resolvedOf sports and triumphs; under that pretext,To have them muster in their pomp and fulness,That so she might more strictly, and to root,Effect the reformation she intends.CRI. I now conceive her heavenly drift in all;And will apply my spirits to serve her will.O thou, the very power by which I am,And but for which it were in vain to be,Chief next Diana, virgin heavenly fair,Admired Arete, of them admiredWhose souls are not enkindled by the sense,Disdain not my chaste fire, but feed the flameDevoted truly to thy gracious name.ARE. Leave to suspect us: Crites well shall find,As we are now most dear, we'll prove most kind.[WITHIN.] Arete!ARE. Hark, I am call'd. [EXIT.]CRI. I follow instantly.Phoebus Apollo, if with ancient rites,And due devotions, I have ever hungElaborate Paeans on thy golden shrine,Or sung thy triumphs in a lofty strain,Fit for a theatre of gods to hear:And thou, the other son of mighty Jove,Cyllenian Mercury, sweet Maia's joy,If in the busy tumults of the mindMy path thou ever hast illumined,For which thine altars I have oft perfumed,And deck'd thy statues with discolour'd flowers:Now thrive invention in this glorious court,That not of bounty only, but of right,Cynthia may grace, and give it life by sight. [EXIT.]