MEN. Away, away, away; you are Invention, are you not?

HEU. Yes, sir; what then?

MEN. And you Remembrance?

ANA. Well, sir, well?

MEN. Then I will be Judicium, the moderator betwixt you, and make you both friends; come, come, shake hands, shake hands.

HEU. Well, well, if you will needs have it so.

ANA. I am in some sort content.

[MENDACIO walks with them, holding them by the hands.

MEN. Why, this is as it should be; when Mendacio hath Invention on the one hand, and Remembrance on the other, as he'll be sure never to be found with truth in his mouth, so he scorns to be taken in a lie. Eh, eh, eh, my fine wags? Whist!

[COMMUNIS SENSUS and the rest are seen to approach.]

ANA. Whist!

HEU. Whist!



SCAENA SECUNDA.

COMMUNIS SENSUS, MEMORY, PHANTASTES, HEURESIS, ANAMNESTES, take their places on the bench as before, AUDITUS on the stage, a page before him, bearing his target, the field Sable, a heart Or; next him TRAGEDUS apparelled in black velvet, fair buskins, a falchion, &c.; then COMEDUS, in a light-coloured green taffeta robe, silk stockings, pumps, gloves, &c.

COMMUNIS SENSUS, MEMORY, PHANTASTES, HEURESIS, ANAMNESTES, &c.

COM. SEN. They had some reason that held the soul a harmony, for it is greatly delighted with music; how fast we were tied by the ears to the consort of Voice's power! but all is but a little pleasure; what profitable objects hath he?

PHA. Your ears will teach you presently, for now he is coming. That fellow in the bays, methinks I should have known him; O, 'tis Comedus, 'tis so; but he has become nowadays something humorous, and too-too satirical up and down, like his great grandfather Aristophanes.

ANA. These two, my lord, Comedus and Tragedus, My fellows both, both twins, but so unlike, As birth to death, wedding to funeral. For this, that rears himself in buskins quaint, Is pleasant at the first, proud in the midst, Stately in all, and bitter death at end. That in the pumps doth frown at first acquaintance, Trouble in the midst, but in the end concludes, Closing up all with a sweet catastrophe. This grave and sad, distain'd with brinish tears; That light and quick with wrinkled laughter[281] painted; This deals with nobles, kings, and emperors, Full of great fears, great hopes, great enterprises. This other trades with men of mean condition: His projects small, small hopes, and dangers little. This gorgeous-broider'd with rich sentences: That fair and purfled round with merriments. Both vice detect and virtue beautify, By being death's mirror, and life's looking-glass.

COM[282]. Salutem primum jam a principio propitiam. Mihi atque vobis, spectatores, nuntio[283]—

PHA. Pish, pish, this is a speech with no action; let's hear Terence, Quid igitur faciam, &c.

COM. _Quid igitur faciam? non eam? ne nunc quidem, Cum arcessor ultro?[284]

PHA. Fie, fie, fie, no more action! lend me your bays, do it thus—Quid igitur, &c. [He acts it after the old kind of pantomimic action.

COM. SEN. I should judge this action, Phantastes, most absurd, unless we should come to a comedy, as gentlewomen to the Commencement[285], only to see men speak.

PHA. In my imagination, 'tis excellent; for in this kind the hand, you know, is harbinger to the tongue, and provides the words a lodging in the ears of the auditors.

COM. SEN. Auditus, it is now time you make us acquainted with the quality of the house you keep in, for our better help in judgment.

AUD. Upon the sides of fair mount Cephalon Have I two houses passing human skill: Of finest matter by Dame Nature wrought, Whose learned fingers have adorn'd the same With gorgeous porches of so strange a form, That they command the passengers to stay. The doors whereof in hospitality Nor day nor night are shut, but, open wide, Gently invite all comers; whereupon They are named the open ears of Cephalon. But lest some bolder sound should boldly rush, And break the nice composure of the work, The skilful builder wisely hath enrang'd An entry from each port with curious twines And crook'd meanders, like the labyrinth That Daedalus fram'd t'enclose the Minotaur; At th'end whereof is plac'd a costly portal, Resembling much the figure of a drum, Granting slow entrance to a private closet. Where daily, with a mallet in my hand, I set and frame all words and sounds that come Upon an anvil, and so make them fit For the periwinkling porch[286], that winding leads From my close chamber to your lordship's cell. Thither do I, chief justice of all accents, Psyche's next porter, Microcosm's front, Learning's rich treasure, bring discipline, Reason's discourse, knowledge of foreign states, Loud fame of great heroes' virtuous deeds; The marrow of grave speeches, and the flowers Of quickest wits, neat jests, and pure conceits; And oftentimes, to ease the heavy burthen Of government your lordship's shoulders bear, I thither do conduce the pleasing nuptials Of sweetest instruments with heavenly noise. If then Auditus have deserv'd the best, Let him be dignified before the rest.

COM. SEN. Auditus, I am almost a sceptic in this matter, scarce knowing which way the balance of the cause will decline. When I have heard the rest, I will despatch judgment; meanwhile, you may depart.

[AUDITUS leads his show about the stage, and then goes out.



SCAENA TERTIA.

COMMUNIS SENSUS, MEMORIA, PHANTASTES, ANAMNESTES, HEURESIS, as before; OLFACTUS in a garment of several flowers, a page before him, bearing his target, his field Vert, a hound Argent, two boys with casting-bottles[287], and two censers with incense[288], another with a velvet cushion stuck with flowers, another with a basket of herbs, another with a box of ointment. OLFACTUS leads them about, and, making obeisance, presents them before the Bench.

1ST BOY. Your only way to make a good pomander[289] is this:—Take an ounce of the purest garden mould, cleansed and steeped seven days in change of motherless rosewater; then take the best ladanum, benzoine, both storaxes, ambergris, civet, and musk: incorporate them together, and work them into what form you please. This, if your breath be not too valiant, will make you smell as sweet as my lady's dog.

PHA. This boy, it should seem, represents Odour, he is so perfect a perfumer.

ODOUR. I do, my lord, and have at my command The smell of flowers and odoriferous drugs, Of ointments sweet and excellent perfumes, And courtlike waters, which if once you smell, You in your heart would wish, as I suppose, That all your body were transform'd to nose.

PHA. Olfactus, of all the Senses, your objects have the worst luck; they are always jarring with their contraries; for none can wear civet, but they are suspected of a proper bad scent[290]; whence the proverb springs, He smelleth best, that doth of nothing smell.



SCAENA QUARTA.

The Bench and OLFACTUS, as before. TOBACCO, apparelled in a taffeta mantle, his arms brown and naked, buskins made of the peeling of osiers, his neck bare, hung with Indian leaves, his face brown, painted with blue stripes, in his nose swines' teeth, on his head a painted wicker crown with tobacco-pipes set in it, plumes of tobacco leaves, led by two Indian boys naked, with tapers in their hands, tobacco-boxes, and pipes lighted.

PHA. Foh, foh, what a smell is here! Is this one of your delightful objects?

OLF. It is your only scent in request, sir.

COM. SEN. What fiery fellow is that, which smokes so much in the mouth?

OLF. It is the great and puissant God of Tobacco.

TOB. Ladoch guevarroh pufuer shelvaro baggon, Olfia di quanon, Indi cortilo vraggon.

PHA. Ha, ha, ha, ha! this, in my opinion, is the tongue of the Antipodes.

MEM. No, I remember it very well, it was the language the Arcadians spake that lived long before the moon.

COM. SEN. What signifies it, Olfactus?

OLF. This is the mighty Emperor Tobacco, king of Trinidado, that, in being conquered, conquered all Europe, in making them pay tribute for their smoke.

TOB. Erfronge inglues conde hesingo, Develin floscoth ma pu cocthingo.

OLF. Expeller of catarrhs, banisher of all agues, your guts' only salve for the green wounds of a non-plus.

TOB. All vulcam vercu, I parda pora si de gratam, ka famala mora, che Bauho respartera, quirara.

OLF. Son to the god Vulcan and Tellus, kin to the father of mirth, called Bacchus.

TOB. Viscardonok, pillostuphe, pascano tinaromagas, Pagi dagon stollisinfe, carocibato scribas.

OLF. Genius of all swaggerers, professed enemy to physicians, sweet ointment for sour teeth, firm knot of good fellowship, adamant of company, swift wind to spread the wings of time, hated of none but those that know him not, and of so great deserts that, whoso is acquainted with him can hardly forsake him.

PHA. It seems these last words were very significant. I promise you, a god of great denomination; he may be my Lord Tappes for his large titles[291].

COM. SEN. But forward, Olfactus, as they have done before you, with your description?

OLF. Just in the midst of Cephalon's round face, As 'twere a frontispiece unto the hill, Olfactus' lodging built in figure long, Doubly disparted with two precious vaults, The roofs whereof most richly are enclos'd With orient pearls and sparkling diamonds Beset at th'end with emerauds and turchis[292], And rubies red and flaming chrysolites, At upper end whereof, in costly manner, I lay my head between two spongeous pillows, Like fair Adonis 'twixt the paps of Venus, Where I, conducting in and out the wind, Daily examine all the air inspir'd By my pure searching, if that it be pure, And fit to serve the lungs with lively breath: Hence do I likewise minister perfume[s] Unto the neighbour brain—perfumes of force To cleanse your head, and make your fancy bright, To refine wit and sharp[293] invention, And strengthen memory: from whence it came, That old devotion incense did ordain To make man's spirit more apt for things divine. Besides a thousand more commodities, In lieu whereof your lordships I request, Give me the crown, if I deserve it best.

[OLFACTUS leads his company about the stage, and goes out.



SCAENA QUINTA.

The Bench as before. A page with a shield Argent, an ape proper with an apple; then GUSTUS with a cornucopia in his hand. BACCHUS in a garland of leaves and grapes, a white suit, and over it a thin sarcenet to his foot, in his hand a spear wreathed with vine leaves, on his arm a target with a tiger. CERES with a crown of ears of corn, in a yellow silk robe, a bunch of poppy in her hand, a scutcheon charged with a dragon.

COM. SEN. In good time, Gustus. Have you brought your objects?

GUS. My servant Appetitus followeth with them.

APP. Come, come, Bacchus, you are so fat; enter, enter.

PHA. Fie, fie, Gustus! this is a great indecorum to bring Bacchus alone; you should have made Thirst lead him by the hand.

GUS. Right, sir; but men nowadays drink often when they be not dry; besides, I could not get red herrings and dried neats' tongues enough to apparel him in.

COM. SEN. What, never a speech of him?

GUS. I put an octave of iambics in his mouth, and he hath drunk it down.

APP. Well done, muscadine and eggs stand hot. What, buttered claret? go thy way, thou hadst best; for blind men that cannot see how wickedly thou look'st—How now, what small, thin fellow are you here? ha?

BOY. Beer, forsooth: Beer, forsooth.

APP. Beer forsooth, get you gone to the buttery, till I call for you; you are none of Bacchus's attendants, I am sure; he cannot endure the smell of malt. Where's Ceres? O, well, well, is the march-pane broken? Ill luck, ill luck! Come hang't, never stand to set it together again. Serve out fruit there.

[Enter boys with a banquet, marmalade, sweets, &c.; deliver it round among the gentlewomen, and go out.]

What, do you come with roast-meat after apples? Away with it. Digestion, serve out cheese. What, but a pennyworth! It is just the measure of his nose that sold it! Lamb's wool, the meekest meat in the world; 'twill let any man fleece it. Snapdragon there!

MEM. O, I remember this dish well: it was first invented by Pluto, to entertain Proserpina withal.

PHA. I think not so, Memory; for when Hercules had killed the flaming dragon of Hesperia with the apples of that orchard, he made this fiery meat; in memory whereof he named it Snapdragon.

COM. SEN. Gustus, let's hear your description?

GUS. Near to the lowly base of Cephalon, My house is plac'd not much unlike a cave: Yet arch'd above by wondrous workmanship, With hewen stones wrought smoother and more fine Than jet or marble fair from Iceland brought. Over the door directly doth incline A fair percullis of compacture strong, To shut out all that may annoy the state Or health of Microcosm; and within Is spread a long board like a pliant tongue, At which I hourly sit, and trial take Of meats and drinks needful and delectable: Twice every day do I provision make For the sumptuous kitchen of the commonwealth; Which, once well-boil'd, is soon distributed To all the members, well refreshing them With good supply of strength-renewing food. Should I neglect this nursing[294] diligence, The body of the realm would ruinate; Yourself, my lord, with all your policies And wondrous wit, could not preserve yourself: Nor you, Phantastes; nor you, Memory. Psyche herself, were't not that I repair Her crazy house with props of nourishment, Would soon forsake us: for whose dearest sake Many a grievous pain have I sustain'd By bitter pills and sour purgations; Which if I had not valiantly abiden, She had been long ere this departed. Since the whole Microcosm I maintain, Let me, as Prince, above the Senses reign.

COM. SEN. The reasons you urge, Gustus, breed a new doubt, whether it be commodious or necessary, the resolution whereof I refer to your judgment, licensing you meanwhile to depart.

[GUSTUS leads his show about the stage, and goes out.



SCAENA SEXTA.

The Bench as before; TACTUS, a page before him bearing his scutcheon, a tortoise Sable.

TAC. Ready anon, forsooth! the devil she will! Who would be toil'd with wenches in a show?

COM. SEN. Why in such anger, Tactus? what's the matter?

TAC. My lord, I had thought, as other Senses did, By sight of objects to have prov'd my worth; Wherefore considering that, of all the things That please me most, women are counted chief, I had thought to have represented in my show The queen of pleasure, Venus and her son, Leading a gentleman enamoured With his sweet touching of his mistress' lips, And gentle griping of her tender hands, And divers pleasant relishes of touch, Yet all contained in the bounds of chastity.

PHA. Tactus, of all I long to see your objects; How comes it we have lost those pretty sports?

TAC. Thus 'tis: five hours ago I set a dozen maids to attire a boy like a nice gentlewoman; but there is such doing with their looking-glasses, pinning, unpinning, setting, unsetting, formings and conformings; painting blue veins and cheeks; such stir with sticks and combs, cascanets, dressings, purls, falls, squares, busks, bodies, scarfs, necklaces, carcanets, rebatoes, borders, tires, fans, palisadoes, puffs, ruffs, cuffs, muffs, pusles, fusles, partlets, frislets, bandlets, fillets, crosslets, pendulets, amulets, annulets, bracelets, and so many lets, that yet she's scarce dressed to the girdle; and now there is such calling for fardingales, kirtles, busk-points, shoe-ties, &c., that seven pedlars' shops—nay, all Stourbridge fair, will scarce furnish her. A ship is sooner rigged by far, than a gentlewoman made ready.

PHA. 'Tis strange that women, being so mutable, Will never change in changing their apparel.

COM. SEN. Well, let them pass; Tactus, we are content To know your dignity by relation.

TAC. The instrument of instruments, the hand, Courtesy's index, chamberlain to nature, The body's soldier, and mouth's caterer, Psyche's great secretary, the dumb's eloquence, The blind man's candle, and his forehead's buckler, The minister of wrath, and friendship's sign, This is my instrument: nevertheless my power Extends itself far as our queen commands, Through all the parts and climes of Microcosm. I am the root of life, spreading my virtue By sinews, that extend from head to foot To every living part. For as a subtle spider, closely sitting In centre of her web that spreadeth round, If the least fly but touch the smallest thread, She feels it instantly; so doth myself, Casting my slender nerves and sundry nets O'er every particle of all the body, By proper skill perceive the difference Of several qualities, hot, cold, moist, and dry; Hard, soft, rough, smooth, clammy, and slippery: Sweet pleasure and sharp pain profitable, That makes us (wounded) seek for remedy. By these means do I teach the body fly From such bad things as may endanger it. A wall of brass can be no more defence Unto a town than I to Microcosm. Tell me what Sense is not beholden to me? The nose is hot or cold, the eyes do weep, The ears do feel, the taste's a kind of touching: Thus, when I please, I can command them all, And make them tremble, when I threaten them. I am the eldest and biggest of all the rest, The chiefest note and first distinction Betwixt a living tree and living beast; For though one hear and see, and smell and taste, If he wants touch, he is counted but a block. Therefore, my lord, grant me the royalty; Of whom there is such great necessity.

COM. SEN. Tactus, stand aside. You, sirrah Anamnestes, tell the Senses we expect their appearance.

ANA. At your lordship's pleasure.

[Exit ANAMNESTES.



SCAENA SEPTIMA.

COMMUNIS SENSUS, PHANTASTES, MEMORIA, HEURESIS, ANAMNESTES, upon the Bench consulting among themselves. VISUS, AUDITUS, TACTUS, GUSTUS, and OLFACTUS, every one with his shield upon his arm. LINGUA, and MENDACIO with them.

COM. SEN. Though you deserve no small punishment for these uproars, yet at the request of these my assistants I remit it; and by the power of judgment our gracious sovereign Psyche hath given me, thus I determine of your controversies: hum! By your former objects, instruments and reasons, I conceive the state of sense to be divided into two parts; one of commodity, the other of necessity; both which are either for our queen or for our country; but as the soul is more excellent than the body, so are the Senses that profit the soul to be estimated before those that are needful for the body. Visus and Auditus, serve yourselves. Master Register, give me the crown; because it is better to be well, than simply to be, therefore I judge the crown by right to belong to you of the commodity's part, and the robe to you of the necessity's side: and since you, Visus, are the author of invention, and you, Auditus, of increase and addition to the same, seeing it is more excellent to invent than to augment, I establish you, Visus, the better of the two, and chief of all the rest: in token whereof I bestow upon you this crown, to wear at your liberty.

VIS. I most humbly thank your lordships.

COM. SEN. But lest I should seem to neglect you, Auditus, I here choose you to be the lord intelligencer to Psyche her majesty: and you, Olfactus, we bestow upon you the chief priesthood of Microcosm, perpetually to offer incense in her majesty's temple. As for you, Tactus, upon your reasons alleged I bestow upon you the robe.

TAC. I accept it most gratefully at your just hands, and will wear it in the dear remembrance of your good lordship.

COM. SEN. And lastly, Gustus, we elect you Psyche's only taster, and great purveyor for all her dominions both by sea and land, in her realm of Microcosm.

GUS. We thank your lordship, and rest well content with equal arbitrament.

COM. SEN. Now for you, Lingua.

LIN. I beseech your honour, let me speak; I will neither trouble the company, nor offend your patience.

COM. SEN. I cannot stay so long; we have consulted about you, and find your cause to stand upon these terms and conditions. The number of the Senses in this world is answerable to the first[295] bodies in the great world: now, since there be but fire in the universe, the four elements and the pure substance of the heavens, therefore there can be but five Senses in our Microcosm, correspondent to those; as the sight to the heavens, hearing to the air, touching to the earth, smelling to the fire, tasting to the water, by which five means only the understanding is able to apprehend the knowledge of all corporeal substances: wherefore we judge you to be no sense simply: only thus much we from henceforth pronounce, that all women for your sake shall have six senses—that is, seeing hearing, tasting, smelling, touching, and the last and feminine sense, the sense of speaking.

GUS. I beseech your lordship and your assistants (the only cause of our friendship) to grace my table with your most welcome presence this night at supper.

COM. SEN. I am sorry I cannot stay with you: you know we may by no means omit our daily attendance at the court, therefore I pray you pardon us.

GUS. I hope I shall not have the denial at your hands, my masters, and you, my Lady Lingua. Come, let us drown all our anger in a bowl of hippocras[296].

[Exeunt SENSUS omnes exteriores.

COM. SEN. Come, Master Register, shall we walk?

MEM. I pray you, stay a little. Let me see! ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

PHA. How now, Memory, so merry? what, do you trouble yourself with two palsies at once, shaking and laughing?

MEM. 'Tis a strange thing that men will so confidently oppose themselves against Plato's great year.

PHA. Why not?

MEM. 'Tis as true an opinion as need be; for I remember it very readily now, that this time 49,000 years ago all we were in this very place, and your lordship judged the very same controversy, after the very same manner, in all respects and circumstances alike.

COM. SEN. 'Tis wondrous strange.

ANA. By the same token you held your staff in your right hand, just as you do now; and Master Phantastes stood wondering at you, gaping as wide as you see him.

PHA. Ay, but I did not give you a box on the ear, sirrah, 49,000 years ago, did I? [Snap.]

ANA. I do not remember that, sir.

PHA. This time Plato's twelvemonth to come, look you save your cheeks better.

COM. SEN. But what entertainment had we at court for our long staying?

MEM. Let's go, I'll tell you as we walk.

PHA. If I do not seem pranker[297] now than I did in those days, I'll be hanged.

[Exeunt omnes interiores Sensus: manet LINGUA.



SCAENA OCTAVA.

LINGUA, MENDACIO.

LIN. Why, this is good. By Common Sense's means, Lingua, thou hast fram'd a perfect comedy. They are all good friends, whom thou mad'st enemies; And I am half a Sense: a sweet piece of service, I promise you, a fair step to preferment! Was this the care and labour thou hast taken To bring thy foes together to a banquet, To lose thy crown, and be deluded thus! Well, now I see my cause is desperate, The judgment's pass'd, sentence irrevocable, Therefore I'll be content and clap my hands, And give a plaudite to their proceedings. What, shall I leave my hate begun unperfect? So foully vanquish'd by the spiteful Senses! Shall I, the embassadress of gods and men, That pull'd proud Phoebe from her brightsome sphere, And dark'd Apollo's countenance with a word, Raising at pleasure storms, and winds, and earthquakes, Be overcrow'd, and breathe without revenge? Yet they forsooth, base slaves, must be preferred, And deck themselves with my right ornaments. Doth the all-knowing Phoebus see this shame Without redress? will not the heavens help me? Then shall hell do it; my enchanting tongue Can mount the skies, and in a moment fall From the pole arctic to dark Acheron. I'll make them know mine anger is not spent; Lingua hath power to hurt, and will to do it. Mendacio, come hither quickly, sirrah.

MEN. Madam.

LIN. Hark, hither in thine ear.

MEN. Why do you whisht[298] thus? here's none to hear you.

LIN. I dare not trust these secrets to the earth, E'er since she brought forth reeds, whose babbling noise Told all the world of Midas' ass's ears. [She whispers him in the ear.] Dost understand me?

MEN. Ay, ay, ay—never fear that—there's a jest indeed— Pish, pish—madam—do you think me so foolish?—Tut, tut, doubt not.

LIN. Tell her, if she do not—

MEN. Why do you make any question of it?—what a stir is here—I warrant you—presently! [Exit MENDACIO.

LIN. Well, I'll to supper, and so closely cover The rusty canker of mine iron spite With golden foil of goodly semblances. But if I do not trounce them—

[Exit LINGUA.



ACTUS QUINTUS, SCAENA PRIMA.

MENDACIO, with a bottle in his hand.

MEN. My Lady Lingua is just like one of these lean-witted comedians who, disturbing all to the fifth act, bring down some Mercury or Jupiter in an engine to make all friends: so she, but in a contrary manner, seeing her former plots dispurposed, sends me to an old witch called Acrasia to help to wreak her spite upon the Senses. The old hag, after many an encircled circumstance, and often naming of the direful Hecate and Demogorgon. gives me this bottle of wine, mingled with such hellish drugs and forcible words that, whosoever drinks of it shall be presently possessed with an enraged and mad kind of anger.



SCAENA SECUNDA.

MENDACIO, CRAPULA, APPETITUS crying.

MEN. What's this, Crapula beating Appetitus out of doors? ha?

CRA. You filthy long crane, you mean slave, will you kill your guests with blowing continual hunger in them? The Senses have overcharged their stomachs already, and you, sirrah, serve them up a fresh appetite with every new dish. They had burst their guts if thou hadst stayed but a thought longer. Begone, or I'll set thee away; begone, ye gnaw-bone, raw-bone rascal![299] [Beats him.

MEN. Then my device is clean spoiled. Appetitus should have been as the bowl to present this medicine to the Senses, and now Crapula hath beaten him out of doors; what shall I do? [Aside.]

CRA. Away, sirrah. [Beats him.

APP. Well, Crapula, well; I have deserved better at your hands than so. I was the man, you know, first brought you into Gustus's service. I lined your guts there, and you use me thus? but grease a fat sow, &c.

CRA. Dost thou talk? Hence, hence; avaunt, cur; avaunt, you dog! [Exit CRAPULA.

APP. The belching gorbelly[300] hath well-nigh killed me; I am shut out of doors finely. Well, this is my comfort, I may walk now in liberty at my own pleasure.

MEN. Appetitus, Appetitus!

APP. Ah, Mendacio, Mendacio!

MEN. Why, how now, man, how now? how is't? canst not speak?

APP. Faith, I am like a bagpipe, that never sounds but when the belly is full.

MEN. Thou empty, and com'st from a feast?

APP. From a fray. I tell thee, Mendacio, I am now just like the ewe that gave suck to a wolf's whelp; I have nursed up my fellow Crapula so long, that he's grown strong enough to beat me.

MEN. And whither wilt thou go, now thou art banished out of service?

APP. Faith, I'll travel to some college or other in an university.

MEN. Why so?

APP. Because Appetitus is well-beloved amongst scholars, for there I can dine and sup with them, and rise again as good friends as we sat down. I'll thither, questionless.

MEN. Hear'st thou? give me thy hand. By this, I love thee: go to, then. Thou shalt not forsake thy masters thus, I say thou shalt not.

APP. Alas! I am very loth; but how should I help it?

MEN. Why, take this bottle of wine, come on; go thy ways to them again.

APP. Ha, ha, ha! what good will this do?

MEN. This is the Nepenthe that reconciles the gods. Do but let the Senses taste of it, and fear not, they'll love thee as well as ever they did.

APP. I pray thee, where hadst it?

MEN. My lady gave it me to bring her. Mercury stole it from Hebe for her. Thou knowest there were some jars betwixt her and thy masters, and with this drink she would gladly wash out all the relics of their disagreement. Now, because I love thee, thou shalt have the grace of presenting it to them, and so come in favour again.

APP. It smells well. I would fain begin to them.

MEN. Nay, stay no longer, lest they have supped before thou come.

APP. Mendacio, how shall I requite thy infinite courtesy?

MEN. Nay, pray thee leave, go catch occasion by the foretop. But hear'st thou? As soon as it is presented, round[301] my Lady Lingua in the ear, and tell her of it.

APP. I will, I will: adieu, adieu, adieu.

[Exit APPETITUS.



SCAENA TERTIA.

MENDACIO solus.

MEN. Why. this is better than I could have wish'd it; Fortune, I think, is fallen in love with me, Answering so right my expectation. By this time Appetite is at the table, And with a lowly cringe presents the wine To his old master Gustus; now he takes it, And drinks, perchance, to Lingua; she craftily Kisses the cup, but lets not down a drop, And gives it to the rest: 'tis sweet, they'll swallow it: But when 'tis once descended to the stomach, And sends up noisome vapours to the brain, 'Twill make them swagger gallantly; they'll rage Most strangely, or Acrasia's art deceives her; When if my lady stir her nimble tongue, And closely sow contentious words amongst them, O, what a stabbing there will be! what bleeding!



SCAENA QUARTA.

LINGUA, MENDACIO.

LIN. What, art thou there, Mendacio? pretty rascal! Come let me kiss thee for thy good deserts.

MEN. Madam, does't take? Have they all tasted it?

LIN. All, all, and all are well-nigh mad already. O, how they stare and swear, and fume, and brawl! Wrath gives them weapons; pots and candlesticks, Joint stools and trenchers, fly about the room, Like to the bloody banquet of the centaurs. But all the sport's to see what several thoughts The potion works in their imaginations. For Visus thinks himself a ——, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!



SCAENA QUINTA.

APPETITUS, MENDACIO, LINGUA.

APP. So ho, Mendacio! so ho, so ho!

MEN. Madam, I doubt they come; yonder is Appetitus. You had best be gone, lest in their outrage they should injure you. [Exit LINGUA.] How now, Hunger? How dost thou, my fine maypole, ha?

APP. I may well be called a maypole, for the Senses do nothing but dance a morrice about me.

MEN. Why, what ails them? Are they not (as I promised thee) friends with thee?

APP. Friends with me! nay, rather frenzy. I never knew them in such a case in all my life.

MEN. Sure, they drank too much, and are mad for love of thee.

APP. They want Common Sense amongst them. There's such a hurlyburly. Auditus is stark deaf, and wonders why men speak so softly that he cannot hear them. Visus hath drunk himself stark blind, and therefore imagineth himself to be Polyphemus. Tactus is raging mad, and cannot be otherwise persuaded but he is Hercules furens. There's such conceits amongst them.



SCAENA SEXTA.

VISUS, APPETITUS, MENDACIO.

VIS. O, that I could but find the villain Outis[302], Outis the villain, that thus blinded me!

MEN. Who is this? Visus?

APP. Ay, ay, ay; otherwise called Polyphemus.

VIS. By heaven's bright sun, the day's most glorious eye, That lighteneth all the world but Polypheme. And by mine eye, that once was answerable Unto that sun, but now's extinguished—

MEN. He can see to swear, methinks.

VIS. If I but once lay hands upon the slave, That thus hath robb'd me of my dearest jewel, I'll rend the miscreant to a thousand pieces, And gnash his trembling members 'twixt my teeth, Drinking his live-warm blood to satisfy The boiling thirst of pain and furiousness, That thus exasperates great Polypheme.

MEN. Pray thee, Appetitus, see how he grasps for that he would be loth to find.

APP. What's that? a stumblingblock?

VIS. These hands, that whilom tore up sturdy oaks, And rent the rock that dash'd out Acis' brains, Bath'd[303] in the stole bliss of my Galatea, Serve now (O misery!) to no better use, But for bad guides to my unskilful feet, Never accustom'd thus to be directed.

MEN. As I am a rogue, he wants nothing but a wheel to make him the true picture of fortune; how say'st? what, shall we play at blind-man's-buff with him?

APP. Ay, if thou wilt; but first I'll try whether he can see?

VIS. Find me out Outis, search the rocks and woods, The hills and dales, and all the coasts adjoining, That I may have him, and revenge my wrong.

APP. Visus, methinks your eyes are well enough.

VIS. What's he that calls me Visus? dost not know—

[They run about him, playing with him, and abusing him.

APP. To him, Mendacio, to him, to him.

MEN. There, there, Appetitus, he comes, he comes; ware, ware, he comes; ha, ha, ha, ha!

[VISUS stumbles, falls down, and sits still.



SCAENA SEPTIMA.

MENDACIO, APPETITUS, TACTUS, with a great blackjack in his hand.

MEN. Is this he that thinks himself Hercules?

APP. Ay, wilt see me outswagger him?

MEN. Ay, do, do; I love not to sport with such mad playfellows: tickle him, Appetitus; tickle him, tickle him. [Exit MENDACIO.

TAC. Have I not here the great and puissant club, Wherewith I conquer'd three-chapp'd Cerberus?

APP. Have I not here the sharp and warlike teeth, That at one breakfast quail'd thrice-three hogs' faces?

TAC. And are not these Alcides' brawny arms, That rent the lion's jaws, and kill'd the boar?

APP. And is not this the stomach that defeated Nine yards of pudding and a rank[304] of pies?

TAC. Did not I crop the sevenfold hydra's crest, And with a river cleans'd Augaea's stable?

APP. Did not I crush a sevenfold custard's crust, And with my tongue swept a well-furnish'd table?

TAC. Did not these feet and hands o'ertake and slay The nimble stag and fierce impetuous bull?

APP. Did not this throat at one good meal devour That stag's sweet venison and that strong bull's beef?

TAC. Shall Hercules be thus disparaged? Juno! you pouting quean, you louring trull, Take heed I take you not; for by Jove's thunder I'll be reveng'd.

[APPETITUS draws VISUS backward from TACTUS.

APP. Why, Visus, Visus, will you be kill'd? away, away.

[Exit VISUS.

TAC. Who have we here? see, see, the giant Cacus Draws an ox backward to his thievish den. Hath this device so long deluded me? Monster of men, Cacus, restore my cattle, Or instantly I'll crush thy idle coxcomb, And dash thy doltish brains against thy cave.

APP. Cacus! I Cacus? ha, ha, ha! Tactus, you mistake me; I am yours to command, Appetitus.

TAC. Art Appetitus? Th'art so; run quickly, villain; Fetch a whole ox to satisfy my stomach.

APP. Fetch an ass to keep you company.

TAC. Then down to hell: tell Pluto, prince of devils, That great Alcides wants a kitchen wench To turn his spit. Command him from myself To send up Proserpine; she'll serve the turn.

APP. I must find you meat, and the devil find you cooks! Which is the next[305] way?

TAC. Follow the beaten path, thou canst not miss it. 'Tis a wide causeway that conducteth thither, An easy track, and down-hill all the way. But if the black prince will not send her quickly, But still detain her for his bedfellow, Tell him I'll drag him from his iron chair By the steel tresses, and then sew him fast With the three furies in a leathern bag, And thus will drown them in the ocean. He pours the jack of beer upon APPETITUS.

APP. You had better keep him alive to light tobacco-pipes, or to sweep chimneys.

TAC. Art thou not gone? nay, then I'll send thy soul Before thee; 'twill do thy message sooner. [Beats him.

APP. Hercules, Hercules, Hercules! do not you hear Omphale? hark how she calls you, hark!

TAC. 'Tis she indeed, I know her sugar'd voice: Omphale, dear commandress of my life, My thoughts' repose, sweet centre of my cares, Where all my hopes and best desires take rest. Lo! where the mighty son of Jupiter Throws himself captive at your conquering feet! Do not disdain my voluntary humbleness: Accept my service, bless me with commanding. I will perform the hardest imposition, And run through twelve new labours for thy sake. Omphale, dear commandress of my life.

APP. Do you not see how she beckons to you to follow her? Look how she holds her distaff, look ye?

TAC. Where is she gone, that I may follow her? Omphale, stay, stay, take thy Hercules!

APP. There, there, man, you are right.

[Exit TACTUS.



SCAENA OCTAVA.

APPETITUS solus.

APP. What a strange temper are the Senses in! How come their wits thus topsy-turvy turn'd? Hercules Tactus, Visus Polypheme! Two goodly surnames have they purchased. By the rare ambrosia[306] of an oyster-pie, They have got such proud imaginations, That I could wish I were mad for company: But since my fortunes cannot stretch so high, I'll rest contented with this wise estate.



SCAENA NONA.

APPETITUS: [to him enter] AUDITUS with a candlestick.

APP. What, more anger? Auditus got abroad too?

AUD. Take this abuse at base Olfactus' hands? What, did he challenge me to meet me here, And is not come? well, I'll proclaim the slave The vilest dastard that e'er broke his word. But stay, yonder's Appetitus.

APP. I pray you, Auditus, what ails you?

AUD. Ha, ha!

APP. What ails you?

AUD. Ha! what say'st thou?

APP. Who hath abused you thus?

AUD. Why dost thou whisper thus? Canst not speak out?

APP. Save me, I had clean forgotten. Why are you so angry, Auditus?

AUD. Bite us! who dare bite us?

APP. I talk of no biting; I say, what's the matter between Olfactus and you?

AUD. Will Olfactus bite me? do, if he dares; would he would meet me here according to his promise! Mine ears are somewhat thick of late; I pray thee, speak out louder.

APP. Ha, ha, ha, ha! this is fine, i'faith: ha, ha, ha! Hear you, have you lost your ears at supper?

AUD. Excellent cheer at supper, I confess it; But when 'tis sauc'd with sour contentions, And breeds such quarrels, 'tis intolerable.

APP. Pish, pish, this is my question: hath your supper spoiled your hearing?

AUD. Hearing at supper? tell not me of hearing? But if thou saw'st Olfactus, bring me to him.

APP. I ask you, whether you have lost your hearing?

AUD. O, dost thou hear them ring? what a grief is this Thus to be deaf, and lose such harmony. Wretched Auditus, now shalt thou never hear The pleasing changes that a well-tun'd chord Of trolling bells will make, when they are rung.

APP. Here's ado indeed! I think he's mad, as well as drunk or deaf.

AUD. Ha, what's that?

APP. I say you have made me hoarse with speaking so loud.

AUD. Ha, what say'st thou of a creaking crowd?[307]

APP. I am hoarse, I tell you, and my head aches.

AUD. O, I understand thee! the first crowd was made of a horse-head. 'Tis true, the finding of a dead horse-head Was the first invention of string instruments, Whence rose the gittern, viol, and the lute: Though others think the lute was first devis'd In imitation of a tortoise-back, Whose sinews, parched by Apollo's beams, Echo'd about the concave of the shell: And seeing the shortest and smallest gave shrill'st sound, They found out frets, whose sweet diversity (Well-touched by the skilful learned fingers) Raiseth so strange a multitude of chords. Which their opinion many do confirm, Because Testado signifies a lute. But if I by no means—

APP. Nay, if you begin to critic once, we shall never have done.

[Exit APPETITUS, and carries away AUDITUS perforce.



SCAENA DECIMA.

CRAPULA, a fat-bellied slave, clothed in a light veil of sarsanet, a garland of vine-leaves on his head, &c. SOMNUS in a mantle of black cobweb lawn down to the foot, over a dusky-coloured taffeta coat, and a crown of poppy-tops on his head, a company of dark-coloured silk scarfs in one hand, a mace of poppy in the other, leaving his head upon a pillow on CRAPULA'S shoulders.

CRA. Somnus, good Somnus, sweet Somnus, come apace!

SOM. Eh, O, O; are you sure they be so? oho, oho, oho; eh, waw? What good can I do? ou, hoh, haw.

CRA. Why, I tell you, unless you help— [SOMNUS falls down and sleeps. Soft son of night, right heir to quietness, Labour's repose, life's best restorative, Digestion's careful nurse, blood's comforter, Wit's help, thought's charm, the stay of Microcosm, Sweet Somnus, chiefest enemy to care: My dearest friend, lift up thy lumpish head, Ope thy dull eyes, shake off this drowsiness, Rouse up thyself.

SOM. O Crapula, how now, how now! O, O, how; who's there? Crapula, speak quickly, what's the matter?

CRA. As I told you, the noble Senses, peers of Microcosm, Will eftsoon fall to ruin perpetual. Unless your ready helping-hand recure them. Lately they banqueted at Gustus' table, And there fell mad or drunk, I know not whether; So that it's doubtful in these outrageous fits, That they'll murder one another.

SOM. Fear it not. If they have 'scap'd already, bring me to them Or them to me; I'll quickly make them know The power of my large-stretched authority. These cords of sleep, wherewith I wont to bind The strongest arm that e'er resisted me, Shall be the means whereby I will correct The Senses' outrage and distemperature.

CRA. Thanks, gentle Somnus, I'll go seek them out, And bring them to you soon as possible.

SOM. Despatch it quickly, lest I fall asleep for want of work.

CRA. Stand still, stand still! Visus, I think, comes yonder. If you think good, begin and bind him first; For, he made fast, the rest will soon be quiet.

[Exit CRAPULA.



SCAENA UNDECIMA.

VISUS, SOMNUS.

VIS. Sage Telemus, I now too late admire Thy deep foresight and skill in prophecy, Who whilom told'st me, that in time to come Ulysses should deprive me of my sight. And now the slave, that march'd in Outis' name, Is prov'd Ulysses; and by this device Hath 'scap'd my hands, and fled away by sea, Leaving me desolate in eternal night. Ah, wretched Polypheme! where's all thy hope, And longing for thy beauteous Galatea? She scorn'd thee once, but now she will detest And loathe to look upon thy dark'ned face; Ah me, most miserable Polyphemus! But as for Ulysses, heaven and earth Send vengeance ever on thy damned head, In just revenge of my great injury! [SOMNUS binds him. Who is he that dares to touch me? Cyclops, come, Come, all ye Cyclops, help to rescue me. [SOMNUS charms him; he sleeps.

SOM. There rest thyself, and let thy quiet sleep Restore thy weak imaginations.



SCAENA DUODECIMA.

LINGUA, SOMNUS, VISUS.

LIN. Ha, ha, ha! O, how my spleen is tickled with this sport The madding Senses make about the woods! It cheers my soul, and makes my body fat, To laugh at their mischances: ha, ha, ha, ha! Heigho, the stitch hath caught me: O, my heart! Would I had one to hold my sides awhile, That I might laugh afresh: O, how they run, And chafe, and swear, and threaten one another! [SOMNUS binds her. Ay me, out, alas! ay me, help, help, who's this that binds me? Help, Mendacio! Mendacio, help! Here's one will ravish me.

SOM. Lingua, content yourself, you must be bound.

LIN. What a spite's this? Are my nails pared so near? Can I not scratch his eyes out? What have I done? What, do you mean to kill me? Murder, murder, murder!

[She falls asleep.



SCAENA DECIMA TERTIA.

GUSTUS, with a voiding knife[308] in his hand. SOMNUS, LINGUA, VISUS.

GUS. Who cries out murder? What, a woman slain! My Lady Lingua dead? O heavens unjust! Can you behold this fact, this bloody fact, And shower not fire upon the murderer? Ah, peerless Lingua! mistress of heavenly words, Sweet tongue of eloquence, the life of fame, Heart's dear enchantress! What disaster, fates, Hath reft this jewel from our commonwealth? Gustus, the ruby that adorns the ring, Lo, here defect, how shalt thou lead thy days, Wanting the sweet companion of thy life, But in dark sorrow and dull melancholy? But stay, who's this? inhuman wretch! Bloodthirsty miscreant! is this thy handiwork? To kill a woman, a harmless lady? Villain, prepare thyself; Draw, or I'll sheathe my falchion in thy sides. There, take the guerdon[309] fit for murderers.

[GUSTUS offers to run at SOMNUS, but being suddenly charmed, falls asleep.

SOM. Here's such a stir, I never knew the Senses in such disorder.

LIN. Ha, ha, ha! Mendacio, Mendacio! See how Visus hath broke his forehead against the oak yonder, ha, ha, ha!

SOM. How now? is not Lingua bound sufficiently? I have more trouble to make one woman sleep than all the world besides; they are so full of tattle.



SCAENA DECIMA QUARTA.

SOMNUS, CRAPULA, LINGUA, VISUS, GUSTUS, AUDITUS pulling OLFACTUS by the nose, and OLFACTUS wringing AUDITUS by the ears.

AUD. O, mine ears, mine ears, mine ears!

OLF. O, my nose, my nose, my nose!

CRA. Leave, leave, at length, these base contentions: Olfactus, let him go.

OLF. Let him first loose my nose.

CRA. Good Auditus, give over.

AUD. I'll have his life that sought to kill me.

SOM. Come, come, I'll end this quarrel; bind them[310], Crapula.

[They bind them both.



SCAENA DECIMA QUINTA.

TACTUS, with the robe in his hand, SOMNUS, CRAPULA, LINGUA, GUSTUS, OLFACTUS VISUS, AUDITUS.

TAC. Thanks, Dejanira, for thy kind remembrance, 'Tis a fair shirt: I'll wear it for thy sake.

CRA. Somnus, here's Tactus, worse than all his fellows: Stay but awhile, and you shall see him rage!

SOM. What will he do? see that he escapes us not.

TAC. 'Tis a good shirt: it fits me passing well: 'Tis very warm indeed: but what's the matter? Methinks I am somewhat hotter than I was, My heart beats faster than 'twas wont to do, My brain's inflam'd, my temples ache extremely; O, O! O, what a wildfire creeps among my bowels! Aetna's within my breast, my marrow fries, And runs about my bones; O my sides! O my sides! My sides, my reins: my head, my reins, my head! My heart, my heart: my liver, my liver, O! I burn, I burn, I burn; O, how I burn With scorching heat of implacable fire! I burn extreme with flames insufferable.

SOM. Sure he doth but try how to act Hercules.

TAC. Is it this shirt that boils me thus? O heavens! It fires me worse, and heats more furiously Than Jove's dire thunderbolts! O miserable! They bide less pain that bathe in Phlegeton! Could not the triple kingdom of the world, Heaven, earth, and hell, destroy great Hercules? Could not the damned spite[311] of hateful Juno, Nor the great dangers of my labours kill me? Am I the mighty son of Jupiter, And shall this poison'd linen thus consume me? Shall I be burnt? Villains, fly up to heaven, Bid Iris muster up a troop of clouds, And shower down cataracts of rain to cool me; Or else I'll break her speckled bow in pieces. Will she not? no, she hates me like her mistress. Why then descend, you rogues, to the vile deep. Fetch Neptune hither: charge him bring the sea To quench these flames, or else the world's fair frame Will be in greater danger to be burnt, Than when proud Phaeton rul'd the sun's rich chariot.

SOM. I'll take that care the world shall not be burnt, If Somnus' cords can hold you. [SOMNUS binds him.

TAC. What Vulcan's this that offers to enchain A greater soldier than the god of war?[312]

SOM. He that each night with bloodless battle conquers The proudest conqueror that triumphs by wars.

CRA. Now, Somnus, there's but only one remaining, That was the author of these outrages.

SOM. Who's that? is he under my command?

CRA. Yes, yes, 'tis Appetitus; if you go that way and look about those thickets, I'll go hither, and search this grove. I doubt not but to find him.

SOM. Content.

[Exeunt SOMNUS et CRAPULA.



SCAENA DECIMA SEXTA.

APPETITUS IRASCIBILIS with a willow in his hand, pulled up by the roots, SOMNUS, CRAPULA. The Senses all asleep.

APP. So now's the time that I would gladly meet These madding Senses that abus'd me thus; What, haunt me like an owl? make an ass of me? No, they shall know I scorn to serve such masters, As cannot master their affections. Their injuries have chang'd my nature now; I'll be no more call'd hungry parasite, But henceforth answer to the wrathful name Of Angry Appetite. My choler's up. Zephyrus, cool me quickly with thy fan, Or else I'll cut thy cheeks. Why this is brave, Far better than to fawn at Gustus' table For a few scraps; no, no such words as these— By Pluto, stab the villain, kill the slave: By the infernal hags I'll hough[313] the rogue, And paunch the rascal that abus'd me thus. Such words as these fit angry Appetite.

Enter CRAPULA.

CRA. Somnus, Somnus, come hither, come hither quickly, he's here, he's here!

APP. Ay, marry is he, sirrah, what of that base miscreant Crapula?

CRA. O gentle Appetitus!

APP. You muddy gulch[314], dar'st look me in the face, While mine eyes sparkle with revengeful fire? [Beats him.

CRA. Good Appetitus!

APP. Peace, you fat bawson[315], peace, Seest not this fatal engine of my wrath? Villain, I'll maul thee for thine old offences, And grind thy bones to powder with this pestle! You, when I had no weapons to defend me, Could beat me out of doors; but now prepare: Make thyself ready, for thou shalt not 'scape. Thus doth the great revengeful Appetite Upon his fat foe wreak his wrathful spite.

[APPETITUS heaveth up his club to brain CRAPULA; but SOMNUS in the meantime catcheth him behind, and binds him.

SOM. Why, how now, Crapula?

CRA. Am I not dead? is not my soul departed?

SOM. No, no, see where he lies, That would have hurt thee: fear nothing.

[SOMNUS lays the Senses all in a circle, feet to feet, and wafts his wand over them.

So rest you all in silent quietness; Let nothing wake you, till the power of sleep, With his sweet dew cooling your brains enflam'd, Hath rectified the vain and idle thoughts, Bred by your surfeit and distemperature; Lo, here the Senses, late outrageous, All in a round together sleep like friends; For there's no difference 'twixt the king and clown, The poor and rich, the beauteous and deform'd, Wrapp'd in the veil of night and bonds of sleep; Without whose power and sweet dominion Our life were hell, and pleasure painfulness. The sting of envy and the dart of love, Avarice' talons, and the fire of hate, Would poison, wound, distract, and soon consume The heart, the liver, life, and mind of man. The sturdy mower, that with brawny arms Wieldeth the crooked scythe, in many a swath Cutting the flowery pride on velvet plain, Lies down at night, and in the weird[316] folds Of his wife's arms forgets his labour past. The painful mariner and careful smith, The toiling ploughman, all artificers, Most humbly yield to my dominion: Without due rest nothing is durable. Lo, thus doth Somnus conquer all the world With his most awful wand, and half the year Reigns o'er the best and proudest emperors. Only the nurslings of the Sisters nine Rebel against me, scorn my great command; And when dark night from her bedewed[317] wings Drops sleepy silence to the eyes of all, They only wake, and with unwearied toil Labour to find the Via Lactea, That leads to the heaven of immortality; And by the lofty towering of their minds, Fledg'd with the feathers of a learned muse, They raise themselves unto the highest pitch, Marrying base earth and heaven in a thought. But thus I punish their rebellion: Their industry was never yet rewarded: Better to sleep, than wake and toil for nothing.

[Exeunt SOMNUS and CRAPULA.



SCAENA DECIMA SEPTIMA.

The five Senses, LINGUA, APPETITUS, all asleep and dreaming; PHANTASTES, HEURESIS.

AUD. So ho, Rockwood;[318] so ho, Rockwood; Rockwood, your organ: eh, Chanter, Chanter; by Acteon's head-tire, it's a very deep-mouthed dog, a most admirable cry of hounds. Look here, again, again: there, there, there! ah, ware counter![319]

VIS. Do you see the full moon yonder, and not the man in it? why, methinks 'tis too-too evident: I see his dog very plain, and look you, just under his tail is a thorn-bush of furze.

GUS. 'Twill make a fine toothpick, that lark's heel there: O, do not burn it.

PHA. Boy Heuresis, what think'st thou I think, when I think nothing?

HEU. And it please you, sir, I think you are devising how to answer a man that asks you nothing.

PHA. Well-guessed, boy; but yet thou mistook'st it, for I was thinking of the constancy of women[320]. [APPETITUS snores aloud.] Beware, sirrah, take heed; I doubt me there's some wild boar lodged hereabout. How now? methinks these be the Senses; ha? in my conceit the elder brother of death has kissed them.

TAC. O, O, O, I am stabbed, I am stabbed; hold your hand, O, O, O.

PHA. How now? do they talk in their sleep? are they not awake, Heuresis?

HEU. No, questionless, they be all fast asleep.

GUS. Eat not too many of those apples, they be very flative[321].

OLF. Foh, beat out this dog here; foh, was it you, Appetitus?

AUD. In faith, it was most sweetly-winded, whosoever it was; the warble is very good, and the horn is excellent.

TAC. Put on, man, put on; keep your head warm, 'tis cold.

PHA. Ha, ha, ha, ha? 'st: Heuresis, stir not, sirrah.

APP. Shut the door, the pot runs over, sirrah. Cook, that will be a sweet pasty, if you nibble the venison so.

GUS. Say you so? is a marrow-pie the Helena of meats? give me't; if I play not Paris, hang me. Boy, a clean trencher.

APP. Serve up, serve up; this is a fat rabbit, would I might have the maidenhead of it: come, give me the fish there; who hath meddled with these maids, ha?

OLF. Fie, shut your snuffers closer for shame; 'tis the worst smell that can be.

TAC. O, the cramp, the cramp, the cramp: my leg, my leg!

LIN. I must abroad presently: reach me my best necklace presently.

PHA. Ah, Lingua, are you there?

AUD. Here take this rope, and I'll help the leader close with the second bell. Fie, fie, there's a goodly peal clean-spoiled.

VIS. I'll lay my life that gentlewoman is painted: well, well, I know it; mark but her nose: do you not see the complexion crack out? I must confess 'tis a good picture.

TAC. Ha, ha, ha! fie, I pray you leave, you tickle me so: oh, ha, ha, ha! take away your hands, I cannot endure; ah, you tickle me, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

VIS. Hai, Rett, Rett, Rett, now, bird, now,—look about that bush, she trussed her thereabout.—Here she is, ware wing, Cater,[322] ware wing, avaunt.

LIN. Mum, mum, mum, mum.

PHA. Hist, sirrah, take heed you wake her not.

HEU. I know, sir, she is fast asleep, for her mouth is shut.

LIN. This 'tis to venture upon such uncertainties; to lose so rich a crown to no end, well, well.

PHA. Ha, ha, ha! we shall hear anon where she lost her maidenhead: 'st, boy, my Lord Vicegerent and Master Register are hard by: run quickly; tell them of this accident, wish them come softly.

[Exit HEURESIS.

LIN. Mendacio, never talk farther, I doubt 'tis past recovery, and my robe likewise: I shall never have them again. Well, well.

PHA. How? her crown and her robe, never recover them? hum, was it not said to be left by Mercury, ha? I conjecture here's some knavery,—fast locked with sleep, in good faith. Was that crown and garment yours, Lingua?

LIN. Ay, marry were they, and that somebody hath felt, and shall feel more, if I live.

PHA. O, strange, she answers in her sleep to my question: but how come the Senses to strive for it?

LIN. Why, I laid it on purpose in their way, that they might fall together by the ears.

PHA. What a strange thing is this!



SCAENA DECIMA OCTAVA.

The Senses, APPETITUS, and LINGUA, asleep. PHANTASTES, COMMUNIS SENSUS, MEMORIA, ANAMNESTES.

PHA. Hist, my lord: softly, softly! here's the notablest piece of treason discovered; how say you? Lingua set all the Senses at odds, she hath confessed it to me in her sleep.

COM. SEN. Is't possible, Master Register? did you ever know any talk in their sleep.

MEM. I remember, my lord, many have done so very oft; but women are troubled especially with this talking disease; many of them have I heard answer in their dreams, and tell what they did all day awake.

ANA. By the same token, there was a wanton maid, that being asked by her mother what such a one did with her so late one night in such a room, she presently said that—

MEM. Peace, you vile rake-hell, is such a jest fit for this company? no more, I say, sirrah.

PHA. My lord, will you believe your own ears? you shall hear her answer me as directly and truly as may be. Lingua, what did you with the crown and garments?

LIN. I'll tell thee, Mendacio.

PHA. She thinks Mendacio speaks to her; mark now, mark how truly she will answer. What say you, madam?

LIN. I say Phantastes is a foolish, transparent gull; a mere fanatic napson[323], in my imagination not worthy to sit as a judge's assistant.

COM. SEN. Ha, ha, ha! how truly and directly she answers.

PHA. Faw, faw, she dreams now; she knows not what she says. I'll try her once again. Madam, what remedy can you have for your great losses?

LIN. O, are you come, Acrasia? welcome, welcome! boy, reach a cushion, sit down, good Acrasia: I am so beholding to you, your potion wrought exceedingly; the Senses were so mad: did not you see how they raged about the woods?

COM. SEN. Hum, Acrasia? is Acrasia her confederate? my life, that witch hath wrought some villainy. [LINGUA riseth in her sleep, and walketh.] How is this? is she asleep? have you seen one walk thus before?

MEM. It is a very common thing; I have seen many sick of the peripatetic disease.

ANA. By the same token, my lord, I knew one that went abroad in his sleep, bent his bow, shot at a magpie, killed her, fetched his arrow, came home, locked the doors, and went to bed again.

COM. SEN. What should be the reason of it?

MEM. I remember Scaliger told me the reason once, as I think thus: the nerves that carry the moving faculty from the brains to the thighs, legs, feet, and arms, are wider far than the other nerves; wherefore they are not so easily stopped with the vapours of sleep, but are night and day ready to perform what fancy shall command them.

COM. SEN. It may be so. But, Phantastes, inquire more of Acrasia.

PHA. What did you with the potion Acrasia made you?

LIN. Gave it to the Senses, and made them as mad as—well, if I cannot recover it—let it go. I'll not leave them thus. [She lies down again.

COM. SEN. Boy, awake the Senses there.

ANA. Ho, ho, Auditus, up, up; so ho, Olfactus, have at your nose; up, Visus, Gustus, Tactus, up: what, can you not feel a pinch? have at you with a pin.

TAC. O, you stab me, O!

COM. SEN. Tactus, know you how you came hither?

TAC. No, my lord, not I; this I remember, We supp'd with Gustus, and had wine good store, Whereof I think I tasted liberally. Amongst the rest, we drunk a composition Of a most delicate and pleasant relish, That made our brains somewhat irregular.



SCAENA DECIMA NONA.

The Senses awake, LINGUA asleep, COMMUNIS SENSUS, MEMORY, PHANTASTES, ANAMNESTES, HEURESIS drawing CRAPULA.

HEU. My lord, here's a fat rascal was lurking in a bush very suspiciously: his name, he says, is Crapula.

COM. SEN. Sirrah, speak quickly what you know of these troubles.

CRA. Nothing, my lord, but that the Senses were mad, and that Somnus, at my request, laid them asleep, in hope to recover them.

COM. SEN. Why then, 'tis too evident Acrasia, at Lingua's request, bewitched the Senses: wake her quickly, Heuresis.

LIN. Heigho, out alas, ah me, where am I? how came I here? where am I? ah!

COM. SEN. Lingua, look not so strangely upon the matter; you have confessed in your sleep, that with a crown and a robe you have disturbed the Senses, using a crafty help to enrage them: can you deny it?

LIN. Ah me, most miserable wretch! I beseech your lordship forgive me.

COM. SEN. No, no, 'tis a fault unpardonable. [He consults with MEMORY.

PHA. In my conceit, Lingua, you should seal up your lips when you go to bed, these feminine tongues be so glib.

COM. SEN. Visus, Tactus, and the rest, our former sentence concerning you we confirm as irrevocable, and establish the crown to you, Visus, and the robe to you, Tactus; but as for you, Lingua—

LIN. Let me have mine own, howsoever you determine, I beseech you.

COM. SEN. That may not be: your goods are fallen into our hands; my sentence cannot be recalled: you may see, those that seek what is not theirs, oftentimes lose what's their own: therefore, Lingua, granting you your life, I commit you to close prison in Gustus's house, and charge you, Gustus, to keep her under the custody of two strong doors, and every day, till she come to eighty years of age, see she be well-guarded with thirty tall watchmen, without whose licence she shall by no means wag abroad. Nevertheless, use her ladylike, according to her estate.

PHA. I pray you, my lord, add this to the judgment—that, whensoever she obtaineth licence to walk abroad, in token the tongue was the cause of her offence, let her wear a velvet hood, made just in the fashion of a great tongue. In my conceit, 'tis a very pretty emblem of a woman.

TAC. My lord, she hath a wild boy to her page, a chief agent in this treason: his name's Mendacio.

COM. SEN. Ha! well, I will inflict this punishment on him for this time: let him be soundly whipped, and ever after, though he shall strengthen his speeches with the sinews of truth, yet none shall believe him.

PHA. In my imagination, my lord, the day is dead to the great toe, and in my conceit it grows dark, by which I conjecture it will be cold; and therefore, in my fancy and opinion, 'tis best to repair to our lodgings.

[Exeunt omnes, praeter ANAMNESTES et APPETITUS.



SCAENA VIGESSIMA.

ANAMNESTES, APPETITUS, asleep in a corner.

ANA. What's this? a fellow whispering so closely with the earth? so ho, so ho, Appetitus? faith, now I think Morpheus himself hath been here. Up, with a pox to you; up, you lusk[324]? I have such news to tell thee, sirrah: all the Senses are well, and Lingua is proved guilty: up, up, up; I never knew him so fast asleep in my life. [APPETITUS snorts.] Nay, then, have at you afresh. [Jogs him.

APP. Jog me once again, and I'll throw this whole mess of pottage into your face; cannot one stand quiet at the dresser for you.

ANA. Ha, ha, ha! I think 'tis impossible for him to sleep longer than he dreams of his victuals. What, Appetitus, up quickly: quickly up, Appetitus, quickly, sirrah. [Jogs him.

APP. I'll come presently; but I hope you'll stay till they be roasted: will you eat them raw?

ANA. Roasted? ha, ha, ha, ha! up, up, up, away!

APP. Reach the sauce quickly; here's no sugar: whaw, whaw, O, O, O!

ANA. What, never wake? [Jogs him.] Wilt never be? Then I must try another way, I see.



EPILOGUE

Judicious friends, it is so late at night, I cannot waken hungry Appetite: Then since the close upon his rising stands, Let me obtain this at your courteous hands; Try, if this friendly opportunity Of your good-will and gracious plaudite, With the thrice-welcome murmur it shall keep, Can beg this prisoner from the bands of sleep.

[Upon the plaudite APPETITUS awakes, and runs in after ANAMNESTES.



THE MISERIES OF ENFORCED MARRIAGE.



EDITIONS.

(1.) The Miseries of Inforst Mariage. As it is now playd by his Maiesties Servants. Qui alios (seipsum) docet. By George Wilkins. London. Printed for George Vincent, and are to be sold at his shop in Woodstreete. 1607, 4to.

(2.) The Miseries of Inforst Marriage. Playd by his Maiesties Seruantes. Qui Alios, (seipsum) docet. By George Wilkins. London Printed for George Vincent, and are to be sold at his Shoppe in Woodstreete. 1611. 4to.

(3.) The Miseries of Inforst Marriage. Playd by his Maiesties Servants. Qui alios (seipsum) docet. By George Wilkins. London, Printed by Aug. Mathewes for Richard Thrale, and are to bee sold at his Shop at Pauls gate, next to Cheape-side. 1629. 4to.

(4.) The Miseries of Inforst Marriage. Playd by his Majesties Servants. Qui alios (seipsum) docet. By George Wilkins. London, Printed by I.N. for Richard Thrale, and are to be sold at his Shop at Pauls gate; next to Cheape-side. M.DC.XXXVII. 4to.



INTRODUCTION.

George Wilkins, like many other minor poets of his time, has had no memorials concerning him transmitted to us. He wrote no play alone, except that which is here reprinted; but he joined with John Day and William Rowley in "The Travels of the Three English Brothers, Sir Thomas, Sir Anthony, and Sir Robert Shirley," an historical play, printed in 4to, 1607[325]. He was also the author of "Three Miseries of Barbary: Plague, Famine, Civill warre." [1603.] 4to. B.L.[326]

[There was a second writer of both these names, probably a son, who published in 1608 a prose novel, founded on the play of "Pericles."[327]]



DRAMATIS PERSONAE[328].

SIR FRANCIS ILFORD. WENTLOE. BARTLEY. WILLIAM SCARBOROW. THOMAS SCARBOROW, his brothers JOHN SCARBOROW, SIR JOHN HARCOP. LORD FALCONBRIDGE. SIR WILLIAM SCARBOROW. DOCTOR BAXTER. GRIPE, the usurer. Butler. Clown. Secretary. Steward. Page. Children. CLARE, daughter to Sir John Harcop. KATHERINE, wife to William Scarborow. Sister to William Scarborow.



THE MISERIES OF ENFORCED MARRIAGE[329].



Enter SIR FRANCIS ILFORD, WENTLOE, and BARTLEY.

BAR. But Frank, Frank, now we are come to the house, what shall we make to be our business?

ILF. Tut, let us be impudent enough, and good enough.

WEN. We have no acquaintance here, but young Scarborow.

ILF. How no acquaintance? Angels guard me from thy company. I tell thee, Wentloe, thou art not worthy to wear gilt spurs[330], clean linen, nor good clothes.

WEN. Why, for God's sake?

ILF. By this hand, thou art not a man fit to table at an ordinary, keep knights company to bawdy-houses, nor beggar thy tailor.

WEN. Why, then, I am free from cheaters, clear from the pox, and escape curses.

ILF. Why, dost thou think there is any Christians in the world?

WEN. Ay, and Jews too, brokers, puritans, and sergeants.

ILF. Or dost thou mean to beg after charity, that goes in a cold suit already, that thou talkest thou hast no acquaintance here? I tell thee, Wentloe, thou canst not live on this side of the world, feed well, drink tobacco[331], and be honoured into the presence, but thou must be acquainted with all sorts of men; ay, and so far in too, till they desire to be more acquainted with thee.

BAR. True, and then you shall be accounted a gallant of good credit.

Enter CLOWN.

ILF. But stay, here is a scrape-trencher arrived: How now, blue-bottle,[332] are you of the house?

CLOWN. I have heard of many black-jacks, sir, but never of a blue-bottle.

ILF. Well, sir, are you of the house?

CLOWN. No, sir, I am twenty yards without, and the house stands without me.

BAR. Prythee, tell's who owes[333] this building?

CLOWN. He that dwells in it, sir.

ILF. Who dwells in it, then?

CLOWN. He that owes it.

ILF. What's his name?

CLOWN. I was none of his god-father.

ILF. Does Master Scarborow lie here?

CLOWN. I'll give you a rhyme for that, sir— Sick men may lie, and dead men in their graves. Few else do lie abed at noon, but drunkards, punks, and knaves.

ILF. What am I the better for thy answer?

CLOWN. What am I the better for thy question?

ILF. Why, nothing.

CLOWN. Why, then, of nothing comes nothing.

Enter SCARBOROW.

WEN. 'Sblood, this is a philosophical fool.

CLOWN. Then I, that am a fool by art, am better than you, that are fools by nature. [Exit.

SCAR. Gentlemen, welcome to Yorkshire.

ILF. And well-encountered, my little villain of fifteen hundred a year. 'Sfoot, what makest thou here in this barren soil of the North, when thy honest friends miss thee at London?

SCAR. Faith, gallants, 'tis the country where my father lived, where first I saw the light, and where I am loved.

ILF. Loved! ay, as courtiers love usurers, and that is just as long as they lend them money. Now, dare I lay—

WEN. None of your land, good knight, for that is laid to mortgage already.

ILF. I dare lay with any man, that will take me up.

WEN. Who list to have a lubberly load. [Sings this.[334]

ILF. Sirrah wag, this rogue was son and heir to Antony Now-now[335] and Blind Moon. And he must needs be a scurvy musician, that hath two fiddlers to his fathers: but tell me, in faith, art thou not—nay, I know thou art, called down into the country here by some hoary knight or other who, knowing thee a young gentleman of good parts and a great living, hath desired thee to see some pitiful piece of his workmanship —a daughter, I mean. Is't not so?

SCAR. About some such preferment I came down.

ILF. Preferment's a good word. And when do you commence into the cuckold's order—the preferment you speak of? when shall we have gloves;[336] when, when?

SCAR. Faith, gallants, I have been guest here but since last night.

ILF. Why, and that is time enough to make up a dozen marriages, as marriages are made up nowadays. For look you, sir; the father, according to the fashion, being sure you have a good living, and without encumbrance, comes to you thus:—takes you by the hand thus:—wipes his long beard thus:—or turns up his moustachio thus:—walks some turn or two thus:—to show his comely gravity thus:—and having washed his foul mouth thus: at last breaks out thus.——

WEN. O God! let us hear no more of this?

ILF.——Master Scarborow, you are a young gentleman; I knew your father well, he was my worshipful good neighbour, for our demesnes lay near together. Then, sir, you and I must be of more near acquaintance, at which you must make an eruption thus:—O God (sweet sir)—

BAR. 'Sfoot, the knight would have made an excellent Zany in an Italian comedy.

ILF. When he goes forward thus: Sir, myself am lord of some thousand a year, a widower (Master Scarborow). I have a couple of young gentlewomen to my daughters: a thousand a year will do well divided among them; ha, will't not, Master Scarborow? At which you out of your education must reply thus: The portion will deserve them worthy husbands: on which tinder he soon takes fire, and swears you are the man his hopes shot at, and one of them shall be yours.

WEN. If I did not like her, should he swear himself[337] to the devil, I would make him foresworn.

ILF. Then putting you and the young pug[338] too in a close room together——

WEN. If he should lie with her there, is not the father partly the bawd?

ILF.——Where the young puppet, having the lesson before from the old fox, gives the son half a dozen warm kisses which, after her father's oaths, takes such impression in thee, thou straight call'st, By Jesu, mistress, I love you!—when she has the wit to ask, But, sir, will you marry me? and thou, in thy cock-sparrow humour, repliest, Ay, before God, as I am a gentleman, will I; which the father overhearing, leaps in, takes you at your word, swears he is glad to see this; nay, he will have you contracted straight, and for a need makes the priest of himself. Thus in one hour, from a quiet life, Thou art sworn in debt, and troubled with a wife.

BAR. But can they love one another so soon?

ILF. O, it is no matter nowadays for love; 'tis well, and they can but make shift to lie together.

WEN. But will your father do this too, if he know the gallant breathes himself at some two or three bawdy-houses in a morning?

ILF. O, the sooner; for that and the land together tell the old lad, he will know the better how to deal with his daughter. The wise and ancient fathers know this rule, Should both wed maids, the child would be a fool. Come, wag, if thou hast gone no further than into the ordinary fashion— meet, see, and kiss—give over; marry not a wife, to have a hundred plagues for one pleasure: let's to London, there's variety: and change of pasture makes fat calves.

SCAR. But change of women bald knaves, sir knight.

ILF. Wag, and thou beest a lover but three days, thou wilt be heartless, sleepless, witless, mad, wretched, miserable, and indeed a stark fool; and by that thou hast been married but three weeks, though thou shouldst wed a Cynthia rara avis, thou wouldst be a man monstrous—a cuckold, a cuckold.

BAR. And why is a cuckold monstrous, knight?

ILF. Why, because a man is made a beast by being married. Take but example thyself from the moon: as soon as she is delivered of her great belly, doth she not point at the world with a pair of horns, as who would say: Married men, ye are cuckolds.

SCAR. I construe more divinely of their sex: Being maids, methinks they are angels; and being wives, They are sovereign cordials that preserve our lives,[339] They are like our hands that feed us; this is clear, They renew man, as spring renews the year.

ILF. There's ne'er a wanton wench that hears thee, but thinks thee a coxcomb for saying so: marry none of them; if thou wilt have their true characters, I'll give it thee. Women are the purgatory of men's purses, the paradise of their bodies, and the hell of their minds; marry none of them. Women[340] are in churches saints, abroad angels, at home devils. Here are married men enough know this: marry none of them.

SCAR. Men that traduce by custom, show sharp wit Only in speaking ill; and practice it Against the best creatures, divine women, Who are God's agents' here, and the heavenly eye, By which this orb hath her maturity: Beauty in women gets the world with child, Without whom she were barren, faint and wild. They are the stems on which do angels grow, From whence virtue is still'd, and arts do flow.

Enter SIR JOHN HARCOP and his daughter CLARE.

ILF. Let them be what flowers they will; and they were roses, I will pluck none of them for pricking my fingers. But soft, here comes a voider for us: and I see, do what I can, as long as the world lasts, there will be cuckolds in it. Do you hear, child, here's one come to blend you together: he has brought you a kneading-tub, if thou dost take her at his hands. Though thou hadst Argus' eyes, be sure of this, Women have sworn with more than one to kiss.

HAR. Nay, no parting, gentlemen. Hem!

WEN. 'Sfoot, does he make punks of us, that he hems already?

HAR. Gallants, Know old John Harcop keeps a wine-cellar, Has travell'd, been at court, known fashions, And unto all bear habit like yourselves— The shapes of gentlemen and men of sort, I have a health to give them, ere they part.

WEN. Health, knight! not as drunkards give their healths, I hope: to go together by the ears when they have done?

HAR. My healths are Welcome: Welcome, gentlemen.

ILF. Are we welcome, knight, in faith?

HAR. Welcome, in faith, sir.

ILF. Prythee, tell me, hast not thou been a whoremaster?

HAR. In youth I swill'd my fill at Venus' cup, Instead of full draughts now I am fain to sup.

ILF. Why then thou art a man fit for my company: Dost thou hear? (to WEN. and BAR.) he is a good fellow of our stamp. Make much of this[341] father.

[Exeunt.

Manent SCARBOROW and CLARE.

SCAR. The father and the gallants have left me here with a gentlewoman, and if I know what to say to her, I am a villain. Heaven grant her life hath borrowed so much impudence of her sex but to speak to me first: for, by this hand, I have not so much steel of immodesty in my face to parley to a wench without blushing. I'll walk by her, in hope she can open her teeth. Not a word? Is it not strange a man should be in a woman's company all this while and not hear her tongue. I'll go further. God of his goodness! not a syllable. I think if I should take up her clothes too, she would say nothing to me. With what words, trow, does a man begin to woo. Gentlewoman, pray you, what is't a clock?

CLARE. Troth, sir, carrying no watch about me but mine eyes, I answer you: I cannot tell.

SCAR. And if you cannot tell, beauty, I take the adage for my reply: you are naught to keep sheep.

CLARE. Yet I am big enough to keep myself.

SCAR. Prythee tell me: are you not a woman?

CLARE. I know not that neither, till I am better acquainted with a man.

SCAR. And how would you be acquainted with a man?

CLARE. To distinguish betwixt himself and myself.

SCAR. Why, I am a man?

CLARE. That's more than I know, sir.

SCAR. To approve I am no less, thus I kiss thee.

CLARE. And by that proof I am a man too; for I have kissed you.

SCAR. Prythee, tell me, can you love?

CLARE. O Lord, sir, three or four things: I love my meat, choice of suitors, clothes in the fashion, and, like a right woman, I love to have my will.

SCAR. What think you of me for a husband?

CLARE. Let me first know what you think of me for a wife?

SCAR. Troth, I think you are a proper gentlewoman.

CLARE. Do you but think so?

SCAR. Nay, I see you are a very perfect proper gentlewoman.

CLARE. It is great pity then I should be alone without a proper man.

SCAR. Your father says I shall marry you.

CLARE. And I say, God forbid, sir! alas, I am a great deal too young.

SCAR. I love thee, by my troth.

CLARE. O, pray you do not so; for then you stray from the steps of gentility; the fashion among them is to marry first, and love after by leisure.

SCAR. That I do love thee, here by heaven I swear, And call it as a witness to this kiss.

CLARE. You will not enforce me, I hope, sir?

SCAR. Make me this woman's husband! thou art my Clare: Accept my heart, and prove as chaste as fair.

CLARE. O God! you are too hot in your gifts; should I accept them, we should have you plead nonage some half a year hence, sue for reversement, and say the deed was done under age.

SCAR. Prythee, do not jest.

CLARE. No (God is my record), I speak in earnest: and desire to know Whether ye mean to marry me, yea or no?

SCAR. This hand thus takes thee as my loving wife.

CLARE. For better, for worse.

SCAR. Ay, till death us depart,[342] love.

CLARE. Why, then, I thank you, sir, and now I am like to have That I long look'd for—a husband. How soon from our own tongues is the word said Captives our maiden-freedom to a head!

SCAR. Clare, you are now mine, and I must let you know, What every wife doth to her husband owe: To be a wife, is to be dedicate, Not to a youthful course, wild and unsteady, But to the soul of virtue, obedience, Studying to please, and never to offend. Wives have two eyes created, not like birds To roam about at pleasure, but for[343] sentinels, To watch their husbands' safety as their own. Two hands; one's to feed him, the other herself: Two feet, and one of them is their husbands'. They have two of everything, only of one, Their chastity, that should be his alone. Their very thoughts they cannot term their own.[344] Maids, being once made wives, can nothing call Rightly their own; they are their husbands' all: If such a wife you can prepare to be, Clare, I am yours: and you are fit for me.

CLARE. We being thus subdued, pray you know then, As women owe a duty, so do men. Men must be like the branch and bark to trees, Which doth defend them from tempestuous rage, Clothe them in winter, tender them in age: Or as ewes love unto their eanlings gives,[345] Such should be husbands' custom to their wives. If it appear to them they've stray'd amiss, They only must rebuke them with a kiss; Or clock them, as hens chickens, with kind call, Cover them under wing, and pardon all: No jars must make two beds, no strife divide them, Those betwixt whom a faith and troth is given, Death only parts, since they are knit by heaven: If such a husband you intend to be, I am your Clare, and you are fit for me.

SCAR. By heaven—

CLARE. Advise, before you swear, let me remember you,[346] Men never give their faith and promise marriage, But heaven records their oath: if they prove true, Heaven smiles for joy; if not, it weeps for you: Unless your heart, then, with your words agree, Yet let us part, and let us both be free.

SCAR. If ever man, in swearing love, swore true, My words are like to his. Here comes your father.

_Enter SIR JOHN HARCOP, ILFORD, WENTLOE, BARTLEY, _and Butler_.

HAR. Now, Master Scarborrow.

SCAR. Prepar'd to ask, how you like that we have done: Your daughter's made my wife, and I your son.

HAR. And both agreed so?

BOTH. We are, sir.

HAR. Then long may you live together, have store of sons!

ILF. 'Tis no matter who is the father. [Aside.]

HAR. But, son, here is a man of yours is come from London.

BUT. And brought you letters, sir.

SCAR. What news from London, butler?

BUT. The old news, sir. The ordinaries are full of cheaters, some citizens are bankrupts, and many gentlemen beggars.

SCAR. Clare, here is an unwelcome pursuivant; My lord and guardian writes to me, with speed I must return to London.

HAR. And you being ward to him, son Scarborow, And no ingrate,[347] it fits that you obey him.

SCAR.[348] It does, it does; for by an ancient law We are born free heirs, but kept like slaves in awe. Who are for London, gallants?

ILF. Switch and Spur, we will bear you company.

SCAR. Clare, I must leave thee—with what unwillingness, Witness this dwelling kiss upon thy lip; And though I must be absent from thine eye, Be sure my heart doth in thy bosom lie. Three years I am yet a ward, which time I'll pass, Making thy faith my constant looking-glass, Till when—

CLARE. Till when you please, where'er you live or lie, Your love's here worn: you're present[349] in my eye.

Enter LORD FALCONBRIDGE and SIR WILLIAM SCARBOROW.

LORD. Sir William, How old, say you, is your kinsman Scarborow?

WIL. Eighteen, my lord, next Pentecost.

LORD. Bethink you, good Sir William, I reckon thereabout myself; so by that account There's full three winters yet he must attend Under our awe, before he sue his livery: Is it not so?

WIL. Not a day less, my lord.

LORD. Sir William, you are his uncle, and I must speak, That am his guardian; would I had a son Might merit commendations equal[350] with him. I'll tell you what he is: he is a youth, A noble branch, increasing blessed fruit, Where caterpillar vice dare not to touch: He bears[351] himself with so much gravity, Praise cannot praise him with hyperbole: He is one, whom older look upon as on a book: Wherein are printed noble sentences For them to rule their lives by. Indeed he is one, All emulate his virtues, hate him none.

WIL. His friends are proud to hear this good of him.

LORD. And yet, Sir William, being as he is, Young and unsettled, though of virtuous thoughts By genuine disposition, yet our eyes See daily precedents, [how] hopeful gentlemen, Being trusted in the world with their own will, Divert the good is look'd from them to ill; Make their old names forgot, or not worth note: With company they keep such revelling, With panders, parasites, prodigies of knaves, That they sell all, even their old fathers' graves. Which to prevent we'll match him to a wife: Marriage restrains the scope of single life.

WIL. My lord speaks like a father for my kinsman.

LORD. And I have found him one of noble parentage, A niece of mine; nay, I have broke with her, Know thus much of her mind, that[352] for my pleasure, As also for the good appears in him, She is pleased of all that's hers to make him king.

WIL. Our name is bless'd in such an honoured marriage.

Enter DOCTOR BAXTER.

LORD. Also I have appointed Doctor Baxter, Chancellor of Oxford, to attend me here: And see, he is come. Good Master Doctor.

BAX. My honourable lord.

WIL. I have possess'd you[353] with this business, Master Doctor.

BAX. To see the contract 'twixt your honoured niece And Master Scarborow?

LORD. 'Tis so, and I did look for him by this.

BAX. I saw him leave his horse, as I came up.

LORD. So, so. Then he will be here forthwith: you, Master Baxter, Go usher hither straight young Katherine, Sir William here and I will keep this room, Till you return. [Exit DOCTOR.

Enter SCARBOROW.

SCAR. My honourable[354] lord.

LORD. 'Tis well-done, Scarborow.

SCAR. Kind uncle.

WIL. Thanks, my good coz.

LORD. You have been welcome in your country Yorkshire?

SCAR. The time that I spent there, my lord, was merry.

LORD. 'Twas well, 'twas very well! and in your absence Your uncle here and I have been bethinking, What gift 'twixt us we might bestow on you, That to your house large dignity might bring, With fair increase, as from a crystal spring.

Enter DOCTOR and KATHERINE.

SCAR. My name is bound to your benificence, Your hands have been to me like bounty's purse, Never shut up, yourself my foster nurse: Nothing can from your honour come, prove me so rude, But I'll accept, to shun ingratitude.

LORD. We accept thy promise, now return thee this, A virtuous wife: accept her with a kiss.

SCAR. My honourable lord!

LORD. Fear not to take her, man: she will fear neither, Do what thou canst, being both abed together.

SCAR. O, but my lord—

LORD. But me? dog of wax! come kiss, and agree, Your friends have thought it fit, and it must be.

SCAR. I have no hands to take her to my wife.

LORD. How, sauce-box?

SCAR. O, pardon me, my lord; the unripeness of my years, Too green for government, is old in fears To undertake that charge.

LORD. Sir, sir, and sir knave, then here is a mellowed experience knows how to teach you.

SCAR. O God.

LORD. O Jack, Have[355] both our cares, your uncle and myself, Sought, studied, found out, and for your good, A maid, a niece of mine, both fair and chaste; And must we stand at your discretion?

SCAR. O good my lord, Had I two souls, then might I have two wives: Had I two faiths, then had I one for her; Having of both but one, that one is given To Sir John Harcop's daughter.

LORD. Ha, ha! what's that? let me hear that again.

SCAR. To Sir John Harcop's Clare I have made an oath: Part me in twain, yet she's one-half of both. This hand the which I wear, it is half hers: Such power hath faith and troth 'twixt couples young, Death only cuts that knot tied with the tongue.

LORD. And have you knit that knot, sir?

SCAR. I have done so much that, if I wed not her, My marriage makes me an adulterer: In which black sheets I wallow all my life, My babes being bastards, and a whore my wife.

Enter SECRETARY.

LORD. Ha, is't even so? my secretary there, Write me a letter straight to Sir John Harcop, I'll see, sir Jack, and if that Harcop dare, Being my ward, contract you to his daughter.

[Exit SECRETARY.

Enter STEWARD.

My steward too, post you to Yorkshire, Where lies my youngster's land; and, sirrah, Fell me his wood, make havoc, spoil and waste. [Exit STEWARD. Sir, you shall know that you are ward to me, I'll make you poor enough: then mend yourself.

WIL. O cousin!

SCAR. O uncle!

LORD. Contract yourself, and where you list? I'll make you know me, sir, to be your guard.

SCAR. World, now thou seest what 'tis to be a ward.

LORD. And where I meant myself to have disburs'd Four thousand pounds, upon this marriage Surrendered up your land to your own use, And compass'd other portions to your hands, Sir, I'll now yoke you still.

SCAR. A yoke indeed.

LORD. And, spite of them[356] dare contradict my will, I'll make thee marry to my chambermaid. Come, coz. [Exit.

BAX. Faith, sir, it fits you to be more advis'd.

SCAR, Do not you flatter for preferment, sir?

WIL. O, but, good coz!

SCAR. O, but, good uncle, could I command my love, Or cancel oaths out of heaven's brazen book, Engross'd by God's own finger, then you might speak. Had men that law to love, as most have tongues To love a thousand women with, then you might speak. Were love like dust, lawful for every wind To bear from place to place; were oaths but puffs, Men might forswear themselves; but I do know, Though, sin being pass'd with us, the act's forgot, The poor soul groans, and she forgets it not.

WIL. Yet hear your own case.

SCAR. O, 'tis too miserable! That I, a gentleman, should be thus torn From mine own right, and forc'd to be forsworn.

WIL. Yet, being as it is, it must be your care, To salve it with advice, not with despair; You are his ward: being so, the law intends He is to have your duty, and in his rule Is both your marriage and your heritage. If you rebel 'gainst these injunctions, The penalty takes hold on you; which for himself He straight thus prosecutes; he wastes your land, Weds you where he thinks fit:[357] but if yourself Have of some violent humour match'd yourself Without his knowledge, then hath he power To merce[358] your purse, and in a sum so great, That shall for ever keep your fortunes weak, Where otherwise, if you be rul'd by him, Your house is rais'd by matching to his kin.

Enter FALCONBRIDGE.

LORD. Now, death of me, shall I be cross'd By such a jack? he wed himself, and where he list: Sirrah malapert, I'll hamper you, You that will have your will, come, get you in: I'll make thee shape thy thoughts to marry her, Or wish thy birth had been thy murderer.

SCAR. Fate, pity me, because I am enforc'd: For I have heard those matches have cost blood, Where love is once begun, and then withstood.

[Exeunt.



ACT II.

Enter ILFORD, and a PAGE with him.

ILF. Boy, hast thou delivered my letter?

BOY. Ay, sir, I saw him open the lips on't.

ILF. He had not a new suit on, had he?

BOY. I am not so well acquainted with his wardrobe, sir; but I saw a lean fellow, with sunk eyes and shamble legs, sigh pitifully at his chamber door, and entreat his man to put his master in mind of him.

ILF. O, that was his tailor. I see now he will be blessed, he profits by my counsel: he will pay no debts, before he be arrested—nor then neither, if he can find e'er a beast that dare but be bail for him; but he will seal[359] i' th' afternoon?

BOY. Yes, sir, he will imprint for you as deep as he can.

ILF. Good, good, now have I a parson's nose, and smell tithe coming in then. Now let me number how many rooks I have half-undone already this term by the first return: four by dice, six by being bound with me, and ten by queans: of which some be courtiers, some country gentlemen, and some citizens' sons. Thou art a good Frank; if thou purgest[360] thus, thou art still a companion for gallants, may'st keep a catamite, take physic at the spring and the fall.