THE FOVNTAINE OF SELFE-LOVE. Or CYNTHIAS REVELS.
As it hath beene sundry times priuately acted in the Black-Friers by the Children of her Maiesties Chappell. Written by BEN: IOHNSON.
Imprinted at London for Walter Burre, and are to be solde at his shop in Paules Church-yard, at the signe of the Flower de-Luce and Crowne. 1601.
The number and names of the Actors.
- 1. Cynthia.
- 2. Mercury.
- 3. Cupid.
- 4. Hesperus.
- 5. Echo.
- 6. Criticus▪
- 7. Arete.
- 8. Amorphus.
- 9. Phantaste.
- 10. Asotus.
- 11. Argurion.
- 12. Hedon.
- 13. Philautia.
- 14. Anaides.
- 15. Moria.
- 16. Prosaites.
- 17. Cos.
- 18. Morus.
- 19. Gelaia.
- 20. Phronesis.
-
- 21. Thauma.
- 22. Tim E.
AD LECTOREM.
Praeludium.
PRay you away; why Children? Gods so▪ what doe yo [...] meane?
Mary that you shall not speake the Prologue Sir.
Why? do you hope to speake it?
I, & I thinke I haue most right to it; I am sure I studied it first.
Thats all one, if the Author thinke I can speake it better.
I plead possession of the Cloake: Gentles, your suffrages for Gods sake.
Why Children, are you not ashamd? come in there.
'Slid, Ile play nothing i'the Play: vnlesse I speake it.
Why? will you stand to most voyces of the Gentlemen? let that decide it.
O no Sir Gallant; you presume to haue the start of vs there, and that makes you offer so bountifully.
No, would I were whipt, if I had any such thought; trye it by Lots eyther.
Faith, I dare tempt my Fortune in a greater venter then this.
Well said resolute Iack: I am Content too; so we draw first. make the Cuts.
But will you not snatch my Cloake while I am stooping?
No, we scorn [...] trechery.
Which Cut shall speake it?
The shortest.
Agreed: Draw.—The shortest is come to the shortest. Fortune was not altogether blind in this: Now Children, I hope I shall go forward without your E [...]uy.
A spight of all mischeiuous lucke: I was once plucking at the other.
Stay Iack: 'Slid Ile do somewhat now afore I goe in, though it be nothing but to reue [...]ge my selfe of the Author; since I speake not his Prologue. Ile goe tell all the Argument of his Play aforehand, and so stale his Inuention to the Auditory before it come foorth.
O do not so.
By no meanes.
First the Title of his Play is CYNTHIAS Reuels, as any man (that hath hope to be sau'd by his Booke) can witnesse; the Scene, GARGAPHIA: which I do vehemently suspect for some Fustian Countrey; but let that vanish. Here is the Court of Cynthia; whither he brings Cupid (trauailing on foote) resolu'd to turne Page: By the way Cupid meetes with Mercury, (as that's a thing to be noted▪ take any of our Play-bookes without a Cupid, or a Mercury in it, and burne it for an Heretique in Poetry)—Pray thee let me alone: Mercurie, he, (in the nature of a Coniurer) rayses vp Echo: who weepes ouer her L [...]ue, or Daffodill Narcissus, a little; sings; cursses the Spring wherein the pretty foolish Gentleman melted himselfe away: and ther's an end of her—Now, I am to enforme you, that Cupid, and Mercury do both become Pages: Cupid attends on Philautia, [...]r Selfe-loue, a Court [...] Lady: Mercury followes Hedon the voluptuous Courtier; one that rankes himselfe euen with Anaides, or the impudent Gallant, (and, that's my part:) a Fellow that keepes Gelaia. Laughter the daughter of Moria. Folly (a wenche in Boyes attire) to wayte [...]n him—These, in the Court, meete with Amorphus, or the Deformed, a Trauailer that hath drunke of the Fountaine, and there tels the wonders of the Water; they presently d [...]spatch away their Pages with Bottles to fetch of it, and themselues goe to visit the Ladyes: But I should haue tolde you—Looke, these Emets put me out here: that with this Amorphus, there comes [Page] along a Citizenss heire, Asotus, or the Prodigall, who (in Imitation [...]f the Traueller, that hath the Co [...]. Whetstone, following him▪) entertaines the Prosaites Begger, to be his Attendant.—Now the Nymphes, who are Mistresses, to these Gallants, are Philautia, Selfe-loue; Phantaste, A light Wittinesse; Argurion, Money; and their Guardian, Mother Moria; or Mistresse Folly.—
Pray thee no more.
There Cupid strikes Money in loue with the Prodigall; makes her doate vpon him, giue him Iewels, Bracelets, Carkanets, &c. all which (he most ingeniously) departs withall, to be made knowne to the other Ladyes, and Gallants; and in the heate of this, encreases his traine with the Morus. Foole to follow him, as well as the Begger—By this time your Begger begins to waite close, who is return'd with the rest of his fellow Bottle-men—There they all drinke saue Argurion, who is f [...]lne into a sodaine Apoplexy—
Stop his mouth.
And then there's a retir'd Criticus. Scholler there, you would not wish a thing to be better contemn'd of a Society of Gallants, then it is: and he applyes his ser [...]ice (good Gentleman) to the Lady Arete, or Virtue, a poore Nymph of Cynthias traine, that's scarce able to buy her selfe a Gowne, you shall see her play in a Blacke Roabe anone: A Creature, that (I assure you) is no lesse scorn'd, then himselfe. Where am I now? at a stand?
Come, leaue at last yet.
O, the Night is come, ('twas somwhat darke, me thought) and Cynthia intends to come foorth: That helpes it a little yet. All the Courtiers must prouide for Reuels; they conclude vpon a Masque, the deuise of which, is—what will you rauish me? that each of these Vices, beeing to appeare before Cynthia, would seeme other then indeed they are: and therefore assume the most neighbouring Virtues as their masquing Habites—I'ld crye a Rape but that you are Children.
Come, weele haue no more of this Anticipation; to giue them the Inuentory of their Cates aforehand, were the discipline of a Tauerne, and n [...]t [...]itting this Presence.
Tut, this was but to shew vs the happinesse of his Memory▪ I thought at first hee would haue playde the Ignorant Critique with euery thing along as hee had gone; I expected some such Deuise.
O you shall see me do that rarely; lend me thy Cloake.
Soft Sir, you'le speake my Prologue in it?
No, would I might neuer stirre then.
Lend it him, lend it him:
Well, you haue sworne?
I haue. Now Sir; suppose I am one of your Gentile Auditors, that am come in (hauing paide my money at the Doore with much adoe) and here I take my place, an [...] sit downe: I haue my three sorts of Tabacco, in my Pocket, my Light by me; and thus I Begin. By Gods so, I wonder that any man is so madde, to come to see these raskally Tits play here—They doe act like so many Wrens or Pismires —not the fifth part of a good Face amongst them all—And then their Musique is abhominable—able to stretch a mans E [...]res worse, then ten— Pillories, and their Ditties—most lamentable things, like the pittifull Fellowes that make them— Poets. By Gods lid, and 'twere not for Tabacco—I thinke—the very stench of 'hem would poyson me, I should not dare to come in at their Gates— A man were better visit fifteene Iayles—or a dozen or two of Hospitals—then once aduenture to come neare them. How is't? well?
Excellent; giue me my Cloake.
Stay; you shall see me do another now: but a more sober, or better-gather'd Gallant; that is (as it may be thought) some Friend, or well-wisher to the House: And here I Enter.
What? vpon the Stage too?
Yes: and I step foorth like one of the Children, and ask [...] you; Would you haue Stoole Sir?
A Stoole Boy?
I Sir, if you'le giue me sixe Pence, I'le fetch you one.
For what I pray thee? what shall I doe with it?
O God Sir! will you betraye your Ignorance so much? [Page] why, throne your selfe in state on the Stage, as other Gentlemen vse Sir.
Away Wag: what wouldst thou make an Implement of me? Slid the Boy takes me for a peice of Prospectiue (I holde my life) or some silke Curtine, come to hang the Stage here: Sir Crack [...] I am none of your fresh Pictures, that vse to beautifie the decay'd dead Arras, in a publique Theater.
Tis a signe Sir, you put not that Confidence in your good Clothes, and your better Face, that a Gentleman should do Sir. But I pray you Sir, let me be a Sutor to you, that you will quit our Stage then, and take a Place, the Play is instantly to begin.
Most willingly my good wag: but I would speake with your Author, wheres he?
Not this way, I assure you Sir, we are not so officiously befriended by him, as to haue his Presence in the Tiring-house, to prompt vs aloud, stampe at the Booke-holder, sweare for our Properties, curs [...]e the poore Tire-man, rayle the Musique [...]ut of tune, and sweat for euery veniall trespasse we commit, as some Author would, if he had such [...]ine Ingles as we: well, 'tis but our hard Fortune.
Nay Crack be not dishartned.
Not I Sir: but if you please to conferre with our Author by Attorney, you may Sir: our proper selfe here stands for him.
Tro [...]h, I haue no such serious affayre to negotiate with him; but what may very safely be turn'd vpon thy trust: It is in the generall behalfe of this fayre Society here, that I am to speake; at least the more iudicious part of it: which seemes much distasted with the immodest and obsce [...]e writing of many, in their Playes. Besides, they could wish, your Poets would leaue to be Promooters of other mens Iests; and to way-lay all the stale Apophthegmes, or old Bookes, they can heare of (in Print or otherwise) to farce their Scenes withall: That they would not so penuriously gleane wit, from euery Landresse, or Hackney-man; or deriue their best grace (with seruile Imitation) from Cōmon Stages, or Obseruation of the Company, they conuerse with; as if their Inuention liu'd wholy vpon another mans Trencher. Againe; that feeding their friends with nothing of their owne, but what they haue twise, or thrise Cook'd) they should not wantonly giue out, how [Page] soone they had drest it; nor how many Coaches came to cary away the broken-meate, besides Hobby-horses and Foote [...] cloth Nags.
So Sir, this is all the Reformation you seeke?
It is: do not you thinke it necessary to be practisd, my little wag?
Yes; where there is any such ill [...]habited Custome receiu'd.
O, I had almost forgot it too: they say, the Vmbrae, or Ghosts of some three or foure Playes, departed a dozen yeares since, haue been se [...]ne walking on your Stage here; Take heed Boy, if your House be haunted with such Hob-goblins▪ 'twill fright away all your Spectators quickly.
Good Sir. But what will you say now, if a Poet (vntoucht with any breath of this disease) finde Gods Tokens vpon you, that are of the Auditory? As some one Ciuet- Wit among you, that knowes no other Learning, then the price of Satten and Veluets; nor other Perfection, then the wearing of a Neate Sute; & yet will censure as desperately as the most profest Critique in the house: presuming, his Cloathes should beare him out in't. Another (whome it hath pleas'd Nature to furnish with more Beard, then Brayne) prunes his Mustaccio; lispes; and (with some score of affected Oathes) sweares downe all that sit about him; That the olde Hieronimo, (as it was first acted) was the onely best, and Iudiciously-pend Play, of Europe. A thirde great-bellied Iugler talkes of twenty yeares since, and when Monsieur was here; and would enforce all Witte to be of that fashion, because his Doublet is still so. A fourth mis-calles all by the name of Fustian, that his grounded Capacity cannot aspire too. A fifth only shakes his Bottle Head, and out of his Corky Braine, squeezeth out a pittifull-learned Face, and is silent.
By my Faith, Iack, you haue put me downe: I would I knew how to get off with any indifferent Grace: Here take your Cloake, and promise some satisfaction in your Prologue, or (Ile be sworne) we haue ward all.
Tut feare not Sall: this will neuer distaste a true Sence. Be not [...]ut, and good inough: I would thou hadst some Sugar Candyed, to Sweeten thy Mouth.
Prologus.
Actus Primus,
Scena prima.
WHo goes there?
Tis I, blinde Archer.
Who? Mercurie?
I.
Farewell.
Stay Cupid.
Not in your company Hermes, except your hands were riueted at your backe.
Why so my little Rouer?
Because I know, you ha' not a finger, but is as long as my quiuer, (cousin Mercurie,) when you please to extend it.
Whence deriue you this speach Boy?
O! tis your best policie to be Ignorant: you did neuer steale Mars his sworde out of the sheath; you? nor Neptunes Trident; nor Apolloes Bowe; no, not you? Alasse your palmes ( Iupiter knowes) they are as tender as the foote of a foundred Nag, or a Ladies face new Mercuried; theyle touch nothing.
Go to (Infant) youle be daring still.
Daring? O Ianus, what a word is there? why my light fether-heeld Cousse, what are you, any more then my vncle Ioues Pandar, a Lackey that runs on errands for him, and can whisper a light message to a loose wenche with some round volubility, waite at a table with a Trencher, and warble vpon a Crowde a little; One that sweepes the Gods drinking roome euery morning, and sets the Cushions in order againe which they threw one at anothers head ouernight? Heere's the Catalogue of all your Imploiments now. O no, I erre: you haue the Marshalling of all the Ghostes too, that passe the Stigian ferry; and I suspect you for a share with the olde Sculler there, if the truth were knowne; but let that scape: one other peculiar vertue you possesse▪ in lifting or Lieger-du-maine (which few of the [Page] house of Heauen haue else besides) I must confesse; But (me thinks) that should not make you set such an extream distance twixt your selfe and others, that we should be said too ouerdare in speaking to your nimble Deity: So Hercules might challenge a priority of vs both, because he can throw the Barre farther▪ or lift more Ioyndstooles at the armes end then we. If this might carry it; then we (who haue made the whole body of Diuinity tremble at the twange of our Bowe, and inforste Saturnius himselfe to lay [...] by his curld front, Thunder, and three forkd-fiers, and put on a Masking sute, too light for a reueller of eighteene to be seene in—
How now my dancing Braggart in Decimo sexto? charme your skipping toung, or Ile—
What? vse the vertue of your Snakie Tipstaffe there vpon vs?
No Boy, but the stretcht vigor of mine arme about your eares; you haue forgot since I tooke your heeles vp into ayre, (on the very hower I was borne) in sight of all the benche of Deities, when the siluer roofe of the Olympian Pallace rung againe with the applause of the fact.
O no, I remember it freshly, and by a particular instance; for my mother Venus (at the same time) but stoupt to imbrace you, and (to speake by Metaphore) you borrowed a Girdle of hers, as you did Ioues Scepter (while he was laughing) and would haue doone his thunder too, but that, twas too hote for your itching fingers.
Tis well sir.
I heard you but lookt in at Vulcans Forge the other day, and intreated a paire of his newe Tongs along with you for company: Tis ioy on you (I faith) that you will keepe your hook'd tallons in practise with any thing. Slight, now you are on earth, we shall haue you filche Spoones and Candlesticks rather then faile: pray Ioue the perfum'd Courtiers keepe their Casting-bottles, Pick-toothes, and Shittle-cockes from you, or our more ordinary Gallants their Tabaco-boxes, for I am strangely iealous of your nayles.
Nere trust me Cupid, but you are turnd a most acut [...] gallant of late, the edge of my wit is cleere taken off with the fine and subtile stroake of your thin-ground toung, you fight with too poinant a phrase, for me to deale with.
O Hermes, your craft cannot make me confident, I know my owne steele to be almost spent, and therefore intreate my peace with you in time: you are too cunning for me to incounter at length, and I thinke it my safest warde to close.
Well for once, Ile suffer you to come within me wag, but vse not these straines too often, thei [...]e stretch my patience. Whether might you marche now?
Faith (to recouer thy good thoughts) Ile discouer my whole proiect. The Huntresse and queene of these groues, Diana (in regarde of some black and [...]nuious slaunders howerly breathd against her for her deuine iustice on Acteon as shee pretēds) hath here in the vale of Gargaphy proclaimd a solemne reuels, which she will grace with the full and royall expence of one of her cleerest moones: In which time it shall be lawfull for all sorts of ingenuous persons, to visit [...] her pallace, to court her Nimphes, to exerci [...]e all varietie of generous and noble pastimes, as well to intimate how farre she treads such malitious imputations beneath her, as also to shew how cleere her beauties are from the least wrinckle of Austerity, they may be chardgd with.
But what is all this to Cupid?
Here do I meane to put off the title of a God, and take the habite of a Page, in which disguise (during the Interim of these reuels) I will get to follow some one of Dianas maides, where (if my bowe holde, and my shafts flye but with halfe the willingnesse and ayme they are directed) I doubt not but I shall really redeeme the minutes I haue lost by their so long and ouer-nice proscription of my Deity, from their court.
Pursue it (druine Cupid) it will be rare.
But will Hermes second me.
I am now to put in act an especiall designement from [...]y father Ioue, but that performd, I am for any fresh action [Page] that offers it selfe.
SCENA. 2.
SCENA. 3.
Deare sparke of beauty make not so fast away:
Away.
Stay let me obserue this portent yet.
I am neither your Minotaure, nor your Centaure, nor your Satyre, nor your Hyaena, nor your Babion, but your meere traueler, beleeue me:
Leaue me.
I gest it should be some trauelling Motion pursu'de Eccho so.
Know you from whom you flye? or whence?
Hence.
This is somewhat aboue strange: a Nimphe of her feature and [...]ineament to be so preposterously rude; well; I will but coole my selfe at yon' Spring and follow her.
Nay then I am familiar with the issue; Ile leaue you too.
I am a Rhinoceros, if I had thought a creature of her Symmetry would haue dard so improportionable and abrupte a digression. Liberall and deuine Founte, suffer my prophan [...] hand to take of thy bounties. By the puritie of my taste, heere is most Ambrosiack water; I will sup of it againe. By thy fauor sweete Founte. See, the water (a more running, subtile, and humorous Nimphe then shee) permits me to touche, and handle her: what should I inferre? If my behauiours had beene of a cheape, or customary garbe; my Accent, or phrase, vulgar; my Garmēts trite; my Countenance illiterate; or vnpractizd in the encounter of a beautifull and braue-attirde Peice, then I might (with some change of coullor) haue suspected my faculties: but (knowing my selfe an Essence so sublimated, and refin'de by Trauaile; of so studied, and well exercisde a gesture; so alone in fashion, able to make the face of any States-man liuing, and to speake the meere extraction of language; One that hath now made the sixth returne vpon venter; and was your first that euer enricht his countrey with the true laws of the Duello; whose Optiques haue drunke the spirit of beauty, in some eight score and eighteene Princes Courts, where I haue resided, and bin there fortunate in the Amours of three hundred, fortie, and fiue Ladies (all nobly discended) whose names I haue in Catalogue: to conclude; in all so happy, as euen Admiration her selfe dooth seeme to fasten her kisses vpon me: Certes I do neither see, nor feele, nor taste, nor fauor, the least steame, or fume of a reason, that should inuite this foolish fastidious [Page] Nymph so peeuishly to abandon me: well let the memory of her fleete into Ayre; my thoughts and I am for this other Element, water.
SCENA. 4.
What? the well-dieted Amorphus become a Water-drinker? I see he meanes not to write verses then.
No Criticus? why?
Quia nulla placere diu▪ nec viuere carmina possunt, quae scribuntur aquae po [...]oribus.
What say you to your Helicon?
O, the Muses, well! that's euer excepted.
Sir, your Muses haue no such water I assure you; your Nectar, or the Iuice of your Nepenthe is nothing to it; tis aboue your Metheglin, beleeue it.
Metheglin! what's that Sir? may I be so Audacious to demaund?
A kinde of Greeke Wine I haue met with Sir in my Trauailes: it is the same that Demosthenes vsually drunke, in the composure of all his exquisite and Mellifluous Orations.
That's to be argued, (Amorphus) if wee may credit Lucian, who in his (Enicomium Demosthenis) affirmes, he neuer drunke but water in any of his Compositions.
Lucian is absurde, he knew nothing: I will beleeue my owne Trauels, before all the Lucians of Europe; he doth feed you with fictions, and leasings.
Indeed (I thinke) next a Traueller he do's prettily well.
I assure you it was Wine, I haue tasted it, and from the hand of an Italian Antiquary, who deriues it authentically from the Duke of Ferrara's Bottles. How name you the Gentleman you are in ranke with there, Sir?
Tis Asotus, sonne to the late deceased Philargyrus the Cittizen.
Was his Father of any eminent place, or meanes?
He was to haue bin Praetor next yeare.
Ha! A pretty formall young Gallant (in good soothe) pitty, hee is not more gentilely propagated. Heark [...] you Criticus: you may say to him what I am, if you please; though I affect not popularity, yet I would be lothe to stand out to any, whome you shall voutchsafe to call friend.
Sir, I feare I may doe wrong to your sufficiencies in the reporting them, by forgetting or misplacing some one; your selfe can best enforme him of your selfe Sir, except you had some Catalogue or Inuentory of your faculties readye drawne, which you would request me to shew him for you, and him to take notice of.
This Criti [...]us is sower: I will thinke Sir.
Doe so Sir. O heauen, that any thing (in the likenesse of man) should suffer these rackt extremities, for the vttring of his Sophisticate good parts.
Criticus, I haue a sute to you; but you must not denie me: pray you make this Gentleman and I friends.
Friends! Why? is there any difference betweene you?
No: I meane acquaintance, to knowe one another.
O now I apprehend you; your phrase was without me before.
In good faith hee's a most excellent rare man I warrant him.
Slight, they are mutually enamor'd by this time.
Will you sweete Criticus?
Yes, yes.
Nay, but when? youle deferre it now, and forget it?
Why, ist a thing of such present necessity, that it requires so violent a dispatch?
No, but (would I might neuer stir) hee's a most rauishing man; good Criticus you shall endeare me to you, in good faith law.
Well your longing shalbe satisfied Sir.
And withall, you may tell him what my father was, and how well he left me, and that I am his heire.
Leaue it to me, Ile forget none of your deare graces I warrant you.
Nay I know you can better marshall these affaires then I can.—O Gods il'e giue all the world (if I had it) for aboundance of such acquaintance.
What ridiculous circumstance might I deuise now, to bestow this reciprocall brace of Cockscombes, one vpon another?
Since I troad on this side the Alpes, I was not so frozen in my inuention; let me see: to accost him with some choise remnant of Spanish, or Italian? that would indifferently expresse my languages now, mary then, if he should fall out to be Ignorant, it were both hard, and harshe. How else? step into some discourse of S [...]ate, and so make my induction? that were aboue him too; and out of his element I feare Faine to haue seen him in Venice? or Padua? or some face neare his in simillitude? tis too pointed, and open▪ No; it must be a more queint, & collaterall deuise: As—stay; to frame some encomiastique speach vpon this our Metropolis, or the wise Magistrates thereof, in which pollitique number, tis ods but his father fild vp a rome? descend into a perticuler admiration of their Iustice; for the due measuring of Coales, burning of Cans, and such like? As also their religion, in pulling downe a superstitious Crosse, and aduancing a Venus; or Priapus, in place of it? ha? twill do well. Or to talke of some Hospitall, whose walls record his father a BENEFACTOR? or of so many Buckets bestowd on his parish church in his life time, with his name at length (for want of armes) trickt vpon them; Any of these? or to praise the cleanesse of the streete wherein he dwelt, or the prouident painting of his posts against he should haue beene Pretor, or (leauing his parent) come to some speciall ornament about him selfe, as his Rapier, or some other of his accoutrements? I haue it: Thankes gra [...]ious Minerua.
Would I had but once spoke to him, and then—
Tis a most curious and neatly-wrought band this same, as I haue seene Sir.
O God Sir.
You forgiue the humor of mine eye in obseruing it?
O Lord Sir, there needs no such Apology I assure you.
I am anticipated: theyle make a solemne deede of guift of themselues you shall see.
Your Rose too do's most grace-fully in troath.
Tis the most gentile and receiu'd Weare now Sir.
Beleeue me Sir (I speake it not to humour you) I haue not seene a young gentleman (generally) put on his cloathes with more iudgement.
O, tis your pleasure to say so, Sir.
No, as I am vertuous (being altogether vntrauel'd) it strikes me into wonder.
I do purpose to trauell (Sir) at Spring:
I thinke I shall affect you sir, this last speach of yours hath begun to make you deare to me.
O God Sir, I would there were anything in me Sir, that might appeare worthy the least worthines of your woorth Sir, I protest Sir, I should endeuour to shew it Sir, with more then common regarde Sir.
O heres rare Motley, Sir.
Both your desert, and your endeuors are plentifull, suspect them not: but your sweete disposition to trauaile (I assure you) hath made you another My-selfe in mine eye, and strooke me enamour'd on your beauties.
I would I were the fairest Lady of Fraunce for your sake Sir, and yet I would trauaile too.
O you should digresse from your selfe els: for (beleeue it) your Trauaile is your onely thing that rectifies, or (as the Italian sayes) virendi pronto all' Attioni, makes you fit for Action.
I thinke it be great charge though Sir.
Charge? why tis nothing for a gentleman that goes priuate, as your selfe, or so; my Intelligence shall quitt my [Page] charge at all times: Good faith this Hat hath possest mine eye exceedingly; tis so prettie, and fantastique; what? ist a Beauer.
I Sir. Ile assure you tis a Beauer, it cost me six crownes but this morning.
A very prettie fashion (beleeue me) and a most nouel kinde of trimme: your Button is conceipted too.
Sir, it is all at your seruice.
O pardon me.
I beseech you Sir, if you please to weare it you shall do me a most infinite grace.
Slight, will he be praisde out of his cloathes?
By heauen Sir, I do not offer it you after the Italian manner; I would you should conceiue so of me.
Sir, I shall feare to appeare rude in denying your curte [...]ies, especially being inuited by so proper a distinction; may I pray your name Sir.
My name is Asotus Sir.
I take your loue (gentle Asotus) but let me winne you to receiue this in exchange.—
'Hart, theile change dublets anone.
And (from this time) esteeme your selfe in the first ranke of those few whom I professe to loue; what make you in company of this scholle [...] here? I will bring you knowne to gallants as Anaides, Hedon the courtier, and others, whose societie shall render you grac'de, and respected; this is atriuiall fellow, too meane, too coarse for you to conuerse with.
Slid, this is not worth a crowne, and minecost me six but this morning.
I lookt when he would repent him, he ha's beg [...]nne to be sad a good while.
Sir, shall I say to you for that Hat? be not so sad, be not so sad; tis a Relique I could not so easily haue departed with, but as the Hierogliphick of my affection; you shall alter it to what forme you please, it will take any block; I haue varied it my selfe to the three thousandth time, and not so few: It hath these vertues beside; your head shall not ak [...] vnder it; nor [Page] your braine leaue you, without licence; It will preserue your comple [...]ion to eternitie; for no beame of the Sunne (should you weare it vnder Zona Torrida) hath force to approch it by two ells. Tis proofe against thunder, and enchantment: and was giuen me by a great man (in Russia) as an especially-priz'd present; and constantly affirm'd to be the hat that acompanied the politique Vlisses, in his tedious, and ten yeares Trauailes.
By Ioue I will not depart withall, whosoeuer woulde giue me a Million.
SCENA. 5.
Saue you sweete bloods: do's any of you want a creature, or a dependant?
Be-shrow me a fine blunt slaue.
A page of good timber; it will now be my grace to entertaine him first, though I casheere him againe in priuate: how art thou call'd?
Cos Sir, Cos.
Cos? How happely hath Fortune furnisht him with a Whetstone?
I do entertaine you Cos: conceale your quality till we be priuate; if your parts be worthy of me, I wil countenance you; if not, catechize you; Gentles shall we go?
Stay Sir; ile but entertaine this other fellow, and then— I haue a great humour to tast of this water too, but ile come againe alone for that marke the place; whats your name, youth?
Prosaites? Sir.
Prosaites? A very fine name Criticus? ist not?
Yes, and a very ancient Sir, the Begger;
Follow me good Prosaites: Lets talke.
ACTVS SECVNDVS.
SCENA. 1.
Why this was most vnexpectedly followed (my deuine delicate Mercury) by the Beard of Ioue, thou art a pretious Deity.
Nay Cupid leaue to speake improperly; since we are turn'd cracks, lets study to be like cracks: practise their language, and behauiours, and not with a dead Imitation. Acte freely, carelesly, and capricciously, as if our veines ranne with Quick-siluer, and not vtter a phrase, but what shall come foorth steept in the very brine of conceipt, and sparkle like salt in fire.
That's not euery ones happinesse ( Hermes) though you can presume vpon the [...]asinesse and dexterity of your wit, you shall giue me leaue to be a little Iealous of mine; and not desperately to hazard it after your capring humor.
Nay then Cupid, I thinke we must haue you hoodwinckt againe, for you are growne too prouident, since your eyes were at liberty.
Not so ( Mercury) I am still blinde Cupid to thee:
And what to the Lady Nimph you serue?
Troath Page, Boy, and Sirha: these are all my titles.
Then thou hast not altered thy name with thy disguise.'
O No, that had bin Supererogation, you shall neuer heare your Courtier call but by one of these three.
Faith then both our Fortunes are the same.
Why? what parcell of man hast thou lighted on for a Maister?
Such a one (as before I begin to decipher him) I dare not affirme him to be any thing else then a Courtier. So much he is, during this open time of Reuels, & would be longer, but that his meanes are to leaue him shortly after: his name is Hedon, a gallant wholy consecrated to his pleasures.—
Hedon? he vses much to my Ladies chamber, I thinke.
How is she cal'd, and then I can shew thee?
Madame Philautia.
O I, he affects her very particulerly indeed. These are his graces. he doth (besides me) keepe a Barbar, and a Monkey: He has a ri [...]ch wrought Waste-coate to intertaine his vis [...]tants in, with a Cap almost sutable: His Curtaines and Bedding are thought to be his owne; his bathing Tub is not suspected. He loues to haue a F [...]ncer, a Pedant, and a Musitian seene in his lodging a mornings.
And not a Poet?
Fye no: himselfe is a Rimer, and that's a thought better than a Po [...]t: he is not lightly within to his Mercer, no, though he come when he takes Phisique, which is commonly after his play. He beates a Tayler very well, but a Stocking-seller admirably; and so consequently any one he owes money too, that dares not resist him. He neuer makes generall inuitement, but against the publishing of a new Sute, mary then, you shall haue more drawne to his lodging, then come to the launching of some three ships; especially if he be fur [...]ishd with supplies for the retiring of his olde Ward-robe from pawne; if not, he do's hire a stock of Apparell, and some forty or fiftie pound in Gould for that forenoone to shew: Hee's thought a very necessary Perfume for the Presence, and for that onely cause welcome thither: six Millaners shops affoorde you not the like sent. He courts Ladies with how many great Horse he hath rid that morning, or how o [...]t he has done the whole, or the halfe Pommado in a seuen-night before; and sometime ve [...]ters so far vpon the vertue of his Pomander, that he dares [Page] tell'hem, how many shirts he has sweat at Tennis that weeke▪ but wiselye conceales so many dozen of Balls he is on the score. Here he comes that is all this.
SCENA. 2.
Boy.
Sir.
Are any of the Ladies in the Presence?
None yet Sir.
Giue me some Gold, More.
Is that thy Boy Hedon?
I, what thinkst thou of him?
Shart, Il'd gelde him; I warrant he has the Philosophers stone.
Well said my good Melancholy diuell: Sirah, I haue deuisde one or two of the pretiest Oathes (this morning in my bed) as euer thou heardst, to protest withall in the Presence.
Pray thee lets heere'hem.
Soft thoult vse'hem afore me.
No (damne me then) I haue more oathes then I know how to vtter, by this ayre.
Faith'one is; By the tip of your [...]are, Sweete Lady, Is't not pretty, and Gentile?
Yes for the person 'tis applyed to, a Lady. It should be light, and—
Nay the other is better, exceeds it much: The Inuention is farder fet too; By the while valley that lyes betweene the Alpine hills of your bosome, I protest—&c.
I, in a Map, where his eyes were but blind guides to his vnderstanding it seemes.
And then I haue a Salutatiō wil nick all; by this Caper: ho [...]
How is that?
You know I cal Madā Philautia, my Honor, & she cals me her Ambitiō. Now (when I meet her in the Presence anon) I wil [Page] come to her, and say, Sweete Honor, I haue hitherto con [...]ented my Sence with the Lillies of your hand; but now I will taste the Roses of your lip; and (withall) kisse her: to which she cannot but blushingly answeare: Nay now you are too Ambitious, And then do I reply; I cannot be too Ambitious of Honour, sweete Lady. Wilt not be good? ha? ha?
O Assure your [...]oule.
By heauen I thinke 'twill be excellent, and a very politique atchiuement of a kisse.
I haue thought vpon one for Moria of a suddaine too if it take.
What ist, my deare mischiefe?
Mary, I will come to her, (and she alwayes weares a Muffe if you be remembred) and I will tell her: Madame your whole selfe cannot but be perfectly wise: for your hands haue witte enough to keepe themselues warme.
Now (before Ioue) admirable: looke, thy Page takes it too, by Phoebus, my sweete facetious Rascall, I could eate Water-gruell with thee a month, for this Iest, O my deare Rogue.
O (by Hercules) 'tis your onely dish, aboue all your Potatos, or Oyster-pyes in the world.
I haue ruminated vpon a most rare Wish too, and the Prophecy to it, but Ile haue some friend to be the Prophet; As thus: I do wish my selfe one of my Mistris Ciopino's. Another demaunds: Why would he be one of his Mistris Ciopinos? A third answeres, Because he would make her higher. A fourth shall say, That will make her proud. And a fifth shall conclude: Then do I prophesie, Pride will haue a fall: and he shall giue it her.
Ile be your Prophet▪ By gods so, it will be most exquisite, th [...] art a fine Inuentious Rogue, Sirah.
Nay and I haue Posies for Rings too, and Riddles, that they dreame not of.
Tut theile do that, when they come to sleep on thē time enough; but were thy deuises neuer in the Presence yet Hedon?
Twere good we went afore then, & brought th [...] acquainted [Page] with the roome where they shall act, least the strangenes of it put them out of countenance, when they should come forth.
Is that a Courtier too.
Troth no; he has two essentiall parts of the Courtier, Pride and Ignorance (I meane of such a Courtier, who is (indeed) but the Za [...]i to an exact Courtier) mary, the rest come somwhat after the Ordinary Gallant. Tis Impudence it selfe Anaides; one, that speakes all that comes in his cheekes, & wil blush no more then a Sackbut. He lightly occupies the Iesters roome at the table, & keeps laughter, Gelai [...] (a wench in pages atire) following him in place of a Squire, whom he (now & thē) tickles with some strange ridiculous stuffe, vttered (as his land came to him) by chance: He will censure or discourse of any thing, but as absurdly as you would wishe: His fashion is not to take knowledge of him that is beneath him in cloathes; He neuer drinkes below the Salt: He do's naturally admire his wit, that weares Gold-lace, or Tissue; Stabs any man that speakes more contemptibly of the Scholler then he. He is a great proficient in all the illiberall Sciences, as Cheating, Drinking, Swaggering, Whoring, and such like; neuer kneeles, but to pledge Health's nor praies, but for a Pipe of pudding Tabaco. He will blaspheame in his shirt; The oaths which he vomits at one supper, would maintain a Towne of garrison in good swearing a twelue-moneth: One other genuine quality he has, which crownes all these; and that is this; to a Friend in want, he will not depart with the weight of a soldard Groat, least the world might censure him prodigall, or report him a Gull: Mary, to his Cocatrice or Punquetto; halfe a dozen Taffata gownes or Sattin Kirtles, in a paire or two of moneth's, why they are nothing.
I commend him he is one of my clients.
SCENA. 3.
Come Sir. You are now within reguarde of the Presence, And see, the priuacie of this roome, how sweetly it offers [Page] it offers it selfe to our retir'd intendments, Page, cast a vigilant, and enquiring eye about, that we be not rudely surpris'd, by the aproch of some ruder-stranger.
I warrant you Sir. Ile tell you when the Woolfe enters feare nothing.
O what a masse of benefit shall we possesse, in being the inuisible Spectators of this strange shew now to be acted?
Plant your selfe there Sir: And obserue me. You shall now, as well be the Ocular as the Eare-witnesse, how clearely I can refell that Paradox, or rather Pseudodoxe of those, which holde the face to be the Index of the minde, which (I assure you) is not so, in any Politique creature; for Instance, I wil now giue you the particuler, and distinct face of euery your most noted Species of persons; As your Marchant, your Schol [...]er, your Soldier, your Lawyer, Courtier, &c. And each of these so truly, as you would sweare (but that your eye sees the variation of the lineament) it were my most proper, and Genuine aspect: [...] for your Marchants, or Citty face; Tis thus: a dull [...] face; still looking in a direct line, forward: There is no [...] matter in this face. Then haue you your Students, or Ac [...]demique face, which is here, an honest, simple, and Methodicall face; But somewhat more spread then the former. The third is your Soldiers face: A menacing, and astounding face, that lookes broade, and bigge: the grace of this face consists much in a Beard. The Anti face to this, is your Lawyers face; a contracted, subtile, and Intricate face: full of quirkes, and turnings; A Labyrinthaean face, now angularly, now circularly, euery way aspected. Next is your Statists face, a serious, solempne, and supercilious face, ful of formall, and square grauity▪ the eye (for the most part) arteficially and deeply shadow'd, there is great iudgment requir'd in the making of this face. But now to come to your face of faces; or Courtiers face: tis of three sorts: (according to our subdiuision of a Courtier; Elementary, Practique, and Theorique: your Courtier Theorique, is he that hath arriu'd to his fardest, and doth now know the Court rather by speculation, then practise; & this is his face: A fastidious, and oblique face; that lookes, as it went with a Vice, and were screw'd thus. Your Courtier Practique is he that is yet in his Path, his Course, his Way, & hath not toucht the Puntillio or point of hopes; this [Page] face is here: A most promising, open, smooth, and ouerflowing face, that seemes as it would runne, and powre it selfe into you; your Courtier Elementary is one but newly entered, or as it were in the Alphabet Vt-re-mi-fa-sol-la, of Courtship: Note well this face, for it is this you must practise.
Ile practise 'hem all, if you please Sir.
I; here after you may: and it will not be altogether an vngratfull study. For let your soule be assur'd of this (in any Ranke or profession whatsoeuer) the most generall, or Maior part of Opiniō, goes with the face, & (simply) respects nothing else. Therefore: if that can be made, exactly, curiously, exquisitely, thoroughly, It is enough: But (for the present) you shall only apply your selfe to this face of the Elementary Courtier, A light, reuelling, & protesting face, now blushing, now smiling which you may helpe much with a wanton wagging of your head, thus; (a feather will teach you) or with kissing your finger that hath the Ruby, or playing with some string of your band▪ which is a most quaint kinde of Melancholy besides. Where is your Page? call for your Casting Bottle, and place your Mirror in your Hat, as I tolde you; so. Come, looke not pale, obserue me: set your face, and enter,
O for some excellent Painter, to haue ta' [...]e the copye of all these faces.
Prosaites.
Fie, I premonisht you of that; In the Court, Boy, or Sirha.
Maister Lupus in— O 'tis Prosaites.
Sirha, prepare me my Casting-bottle, I thinke I must be enforst to purchase me another Page, you see how at hand Cos waites heere.
So will he too in time.
What's he Mercury?
A notable Finch. One that hath newly entertain'd the Beggar to follow him, but cannot get him to wait neer inough. Tis Asotus the heire of Philargirus: but first Ile giue you the others Caracter, which may make his the clearer? He that is with him is Amorphus, A Traueller, One so made out of the mixture and shreds of formes, that himselfe is truely deformed: Hee walkes most commonlye with a Cloue or Picktoothe in his mouth, Hee's the very Minte of Compl [...]ment; [Page] All his behauiours are printed, his face is another volume of Essayes; and his beard an Aristarchus. He speakes all creame, skimd, & more affected then a dozen of waiting women; Hee's his owne promooter in euery place: The wife of the Ordinary giues him his diet to maintaine her table in discourse, which (indeed) is a meere Tiranny ouer her other guests: for he will vsurp all the talke: Ten Cunstables are not so tedious. He is no great shifter; once a yeare his Apparell is ready to reuolt; He doth vse much to arbitrate quarrells, and fights himselfe exceeding well (out at a window.) He will lie cheaper then any Begger, and lowder then most Clockes; for which he is right properly accommodated to the W [...]etstone his page. The other gallant is his Zani, & doth most of these tricks after him; sweats to imitate him in euery thing (to a haire) except a Beard, which is not yet extant: he doth learne to eat Anchoues, & Caueare because he loues 'hem, speakes as he speakes; lookes, walkes, goes so in Cloathes and fashion, is in al, as he were moulded of him. Marry (before they met) he had other very pretty sufficiencies, which yet he retaines some light Impression of: As frequenting a dauncing schoole, and grieuously torturing strangers, with inquisitiō after his grace in his Galliard; He buyes a fresh acquaintance at any rate; his Eye, and his Raiment confer much together as he goes in the street; He treads nicely, like a fellow that walkes vpon ropes, especially the first Sunday of his Silkstockings, and when he is most neate and new, you shal stripp him with commendations.
Here comes another.
I, but one of another straine Cupid: This fellow weighs somewhat.
His name Hermes?
Criticus. A creature of a most perfect and diuine temper; One, in whom the Humors & Elements are peaceably met, without aemulation of Precedencie: he is neither too fantastickly Melancholy; too slowly Plegmatick, too lightly Sanguine, or too rashly Cholerick, but m al, so composd and order'd; as it is cleare, Nature was about some full worke, she did more then [Page] make a man when she made him; His discourse is like his behauiour, vncommon, but not vnpleasing; he is prodigall of neither: He striues rather to be (that which men call) Iudicious, then to be thought so; and is so truely learned that he affects not to shew it: He wil thinke, & speak his thought, both freely; but as distant frō deprauing any other mans Merrit, as proclaming his owne: For his valor, tis such, that he dares as little to offer an Iniury, as receiue one. In sum, he hath a most Ingenious and sweet spirit, a sharp and season'd wit, a streight iudgement. and a strong minde; constant and vnshaken: Fortune could neuer breake him, or make him lesse, he counts it his pleasure to despise pleasures, and is more delighted with good deedes then Goods, It is a competencie to him that he can be vertuous. He doth neither couet, nor feare; he hath too much reason to do either: and that commends all things to him.
Not better then Mercury commends him.
O Cupid, 'tis beyond my deity to giue him his due praises; I could leaue my Place in heauen, to liue among Mortals, so I were sure to bee no other then he.
Slight, I beleeue he is your Minion; you seeme to be so rauisht with him.
Hee's one, I would not haue awry thought darted against willingly.
No, but a straight shaft in his bosome, Ile promise him, if I am Cithereas sonne.
Shall we go Cupid?
Stay and see the Ladies now; theile come presently. Ile helpe to paint them.
What lay Couller vpon Couler▪ that affoordes but an ill blazon.
Here comes Mettall to helpe it, the Lady Arg [...]rion.
Money, money.
The same: A Nimph of a most wandering and giddy disposition, humourous as the Ayre, she'le run from Gallant to Gallant (as they sit at Primero in the Presence) most strangely, and seldome stayes with any; She spreades as she goes: To day [Page] you shall haue her looke as cleare and fresh as the morning and to morrow as Melancholy as midnight. She takes speciall pleasure in a close, obscure lodging, and for that cause visits the Cittie so often, where shee has many secret and true-concealing fauorites. When she comes abroad shee's more loose and scattering then dust, and will fly from place to place, as she were rapt with a whirle-winde. Your young Student (for the most part) she affects not, onely salutes him▪ and away: A Poet or a Philosopher she is hardly brought to take any notice of, no, though he be some part of an Alchimist. She loues a Player, well; and a Lawyer infinitly: but your Foole aboue all. She can do much in the Court for the obtaining of any sute whatsoeuer, no doore but flies open to her; her presence is aboue a Charme: The woorst in her is want of keeping s [...]ate, and to much descending into inferior and base offices, Shee's for any course Imployment you wil put vpon her, as to be your Procurer or Pandar.
Peace Cupid; heere comes more worke for you, another Caracter or two.
SCENA. 4.
Stay sweete Philautia; Ile but change my fann, and go presently.
Now (in very good serious) Ladies, I will haue this order reuerst, the Presence must be better maintained from you; A quarter past eleuen, & n'ere a Nimph in Prospectiue; beshrew my hand, there must be a reform'd Discipline. Is that your new [Page] Ruffe sweet Lady Bird? by my truth 'tis most Intricately rare.
Good Ioue, what reuerend gentlewoman in yeares might this be?
This Madam Moria, Guardian of the Nimphs: One that is not now to be perswaded of her Wit, she will thinke herselfe wise against all the Iudgements that come. A Lady made all of voyce, & Ayre, talkes any thing of any thing: She is like one of your Ignorant Po [...]tasters of the time; who whe [...] the haue got acquainted with a strange worde, neuer rest t [...]ll they haue wronge it in, though it loosen the who [...]e fabrick of their Sence.
That was pretty and sharply noted Cupid.
She will tell you Philosophy was a fine Reueller, when she was young and a Gallant, and that then (though she say it) she was thought to be the Dame-Dido, and Hallen of the Court; As also, what a sweete Dogge she had this time foure yeere, and how it was call'd Fortune, and that (if the fates had not cut his thred) he had beene a Dogge to haue giuen entertainement to any Gallant in this kingdome.
O I pray thee no more, I am full of her.
Yes (I must needes tell you) She composes a Sackpos [...]et well; and would court a young Page sweetly, but that her breath is against it.
Now her breath (or some thing more strong) protect me from her; th'other, th'other, Cupid.
O, that's my Lady and Mistris Madam Philautia: She admires not herselfe for any one particularity, but for all; She is faire, and she knowes it; She has a pretty light wit too, and she knowes it; Shee can daunce, and she knowes that too; play at Shittle-cock, and that too: No quality she has, but she shall take a very particuler knowledge of, and most Lady-like commend it to you; you shall haue her at any time read you the History of her selfe, and very subtilly runne ouer another Ladies sufficiences to come to her owne.
[Page]She has a good superficiall iudgement in Painting; and would seeme to haue so in Poetry. A most compleate Lady in the opinion of some three beside herselfe.
Faith, how lik'd you my quipp to Hedon, about the garter? wast not wittie?
Exceeding witty and Integrate: you did so Aggrauate the Iest withall.
And did I not daunce moouingly last night?
Moouingly; out of measure (in troth) Sweete Lady.
A happy commendation, to daunce, out of measure.
Saue onely you wanted the swimi the turne; O! when I was atfourteene—
Nay thats mine owne from any Nimph i' the Court) I am sure on't) therefore you mistake me in that Guardian; both the swimme, and the trip, are properly mine; euery body will affirme it, that has any iudgement in dauncing: I assure you.
Come now Philautia I am for you, shall we goe?
I good Phantaste; What? ha' you chang'd your headtire?
Yes faith; th'other was so neare the common, it had no extraordinary grace; besides, I had worne it almost a [...] day in good troath.
Ile be sworne, this is most excellent for the deuise, and rare. Tis after the Italian print we look'd on tother night.
Tis so: by this fanne, I cannot abide any thing that sauors the poore ouer-worne cut, that has any kindred with it; I must haue variety, [...] ▪ this mixing in fashion I hate it woorse, then to burne Iuniper in my Chamber I protest.
And yet we cannot haue a new peculiar Court-tyre, but these Retainers will haue it; these Suburbe sunday-waiters, these Courtiers for High daies, I know not what I should call 'hem.—
O I, they doo most pitifully Imitate; but I haue a tire a comming (I faith) shall—
In good certaine, Madame, it makes you looke most heauenly; but (lay your hand on your hart) you neuer skind a new beauty more prosperously in your life, nor more supernaturally; looke good Lady, sweet Lady looke.
Tis very cleere, and well beleeue me. But if you had seene mine yeasterday when twas young, you would haue— who's your Doctor Phantaste?
Nay thats counsell Philautia, you shall pardon me: yet (Ile assure you) hee's the most dainty, sweet, absolute rare man, of the whole Colledge. O! his very lookes, his discourse, his behauiour, all he doo's is Phisick I protest.
For heauens sake his name; good, deare, Phantaste—
No, no, no, no, no, no, (beleeue me) not for a Million of heauens: I will not make him cheape. Fie—
There is a Nymph too of a most curious and elaborate straine, light, all motion, an Vbiquitary, she is euery where, Phantaste—
Her very name speakes her; let her passe. But are these ( Cupid) the starres of Cynthias Court? doe these Nymphs attend vpon Di [...]na?
They are in her Court ( Mercury) but not as Starres; these neuer come in the presence of Cynthia: the Nimphes that make her traine, are the diuine Arete, Timae, Phronesis, Thauma, and others of that high sort. These are priuately brought in by Moria in this licencious time, against her knowledge; and (like so many Meteors) will vanish when shee appeares.
SCENA. 5.
What? those that were our fellow Pages but now, so soone prefer'd to be Yeomen of the Bottles? the mistery, the mistery, good wagges?
Some dyet drinke, they haue the guard of.
No Sir, we are going in quest of a strange Fountaine, lately found out.
By whome?
My Maister o [...] the great discouerer, Amorphus.
Thou ha [...] well intitled him Cos, for he will discouer all he knowes.
I and a little more too, when the spirit is vpon him.
O the good trauelling Gentleman yonder, ha's causd such a drought [...] the Presence, wi [...]h reporting the wonders of this new water; that all the Ladies, and Gallants [...]e languishing vpon the Rushes, like so many pounded Ca [...]tle [...] the midste of [...], sighing one to another, and gasping, as if each of them expected a Cock from the Fountaine, to be brought into his mouth [...] and (without we returne quickly) they are all (as a youth [Page] would say) no better then a few Trowts cast a shore, or a dish of Eeles in a Sand-bag.
Wel then, you were best dispatch & haue a care of them, Come Cupid, thou and Ile goe peruse this drye wonder.
ACTVS TERTIVS.
SCENA. 1.
Sir, let not this discountenance, or dis-gallant you a whit, you must not sinke vnder the first disaster; It is with your young Grammattical Courtier, as with your Neophyte-Player, a thing vsuall to be daunted at the first presence, or enter-view: you saw, there was Hedon & Anaides, (far more practisd gallants then your selfe) who were both out, to comfort you: It is no disgrace, no more, then for your aduenturous Reueller to fall by some in-auspicious chance in his Galliard, or [...]or some subtill Politician to vndertake the Bastinado, that the State might thinke worthely of him, and respect him as a man well beaten to the world. What? hath your Tayler prouided the property (we spake of) at your Chamber, or no?
I thinke he has.
Nay▪ (I intreate you) be not so flat, and melancholique, erect your minde: you shall redeeme this with the Courtship I will teach you against afternoone: Where eate you to day?
Where you please Sir, any where I.
Come let vs go and taste some light dinner, A dish of she'd Caueare, or so, and after you shall practise an hower at your lodging, some fewe formes that I haue remembred; If you had but (so f [...]rre) gathered your spirits to you, as to haue taken vp a Rushe (when you were out) and wagd it, thus; or clensde your tee [...]h with it, or but turn'de aside, and fa [...]de some businesse to whisper with your Page, till you had [Page] recouer'd your selfe, or but found some slight staine in your stocking, or any other pretty Inuention (so it had beene suddaine,) you might haue come off with a most cleare and Courtly grace.
A poyson of all, I thinke I was forespoake, I.
No, I do partly ayme at the cause (which was omenous indeed) for as you enter at the doore, there is oppos'de to you the frame of a Wolfe in the Hangings, which (your eye taking sodainely) gaue a false Alarme to the heart; and that was it call'd your blood out of your face, and so disordred the whole ranke of your spirits: I beseech you labour to forget it.
SCENA. 2.
Heart, was there euer so prosperous an Inuention thus vnluckely peruerted, and spoyld, by a whoore-sonne Bookworme, a Candle-waster?
Nay, be not impatient, Hedon.
Slight, I would faine know his name.
Hang him poore Grogran Rascall, pr'y thee thinke not of him: Ile send for him to my lodging, and ha' him blanketted when thou wilt, man.
By gods so; I would thou couldst. Looke, here he coms. Laugh at him, laugh at him. Ha, ha, ha.
Fough, he smels all Lamp-oyle, with studying by Candle-light.
How confidently hee went by vs; and carelesly! neuer moou'd! nor stird at any thing! Did you obserue him?
I a poxe on him, let him goe, D [...]rmouse: hee is in a dreame now; He has no other time, to sleepe but thus when he walkes abroade, to take the ayre.
Gods pretious, this afflicts me more then all the rest, [Page] that we should so particulerly direct our Hate, and Contempt against him; and he to carry it thus without wound or passion! tis insufferable.
'Slid, (my deare Enuy) if, thou but saist the word now, Ile vndoe him eternally for thee.
How sweete Anaides?
Marry halfe a score of vs get him in (one night) and make him pawne his wit for a supper.
Away, thou hast such vnseasonable Iests. By this heauen I wonder at nothing more then our Gentlemen Vshers; that will suffer a piece of Serge, or Perpetuana, to come into the Presence: me thinkes, they, should (out of their Expe [...]ience) better distinguish the silken disposition of a Courtier, then to let such terrible course Rags mixe with 'hem, able to fret any smooth or gentile Society to the threds, with their rubbing Deuises.
Damne me, if I should aduenture on his company once more, without a sute of Buffe, to defend my wit: he do's nothing but stabbe the slaue: how mischeiuously he crost thy deuise of the Prophesie there? And Moria she comes without her Muffe too; and there my inuention was lost.
Well, I am resolu'd, what Ile do.
What, my good spirituous Sparke?
Marry, speake all the venome I can of him; and poyson his reputation in euery place where I come.
'Fore god most Courtly.
And if I chance to be present where any question is made of his sufficiencies, or of any thing he hath done priuate or publique; Ile censure it slightly, and ridiculously—
At any hand beware of that, so you may draw your owne iudgement, insuspect; No, Ile instruct thee what thou shalt doe, and by a safer meanes: approue any thing thou hear [...]st of his, to the receiud opinion of it; but if it be extraordinary, giue it from him to some other, whome thou more particulerly affectst, that's the waye to plague him, and hee shall neuer come to defend himselfe: Sblood, Ile giue out all he do [...] [Page] is dictated from other men: and sweare it too (if thou'lt ha' me) and that I know the time, and place, where he stoale it: though my soule be guilty of no such thing; and that I thinke out of my hart, he hates such barren shi [...]ts; yet to doe thee a pleasure and him a disgrace, Ile damne my selfe, or do any thing.
Gramercies my deare Deuill: weele put it seriouslie in practise, I faith.
SCENA. 3.
SCENA. 4.
SCENA. 5.
A little more forward; So Sir. Now goe in, dis-cloake your selfe, and come forth. Taylor; bestow thy absence vpon vs; and be not prodigall of this secret, but to a deare Customer. Tis wel enter'd Sir. Stay you come on too fast; your Pace is too impetuous. Imagine this to be the Pallace of your Pleasure, or Place where your Lady is pleas'd to be seene: First you present your selfe thus; and spying her you fall off, and walke some two turnes; in which time it is to be suppos'd your Passion hath sufficiently whited your Face? then (stifling a sigh or two, and closing your lippes) with a trembling boldnesse, and bolde terror; you aduance your selfe forward. Try thus much I pray you.
Yes Sir, (pray god I can light on it) Here I come in you say: and present my selfe?
Good.
And then I spy her, and walke off?
Very good.
Now sir I stif [...]le, and aduance forward?
Trembling.
Yes Sir, trembling. I shal do it better when I come to it. And what must I speake now?
Mary you shall say; Deare Beauty, or sweete Honor, or by what other title you please to remember her) me thinkes you are Melancholy. This is if she be alone now and discompanied.
Well Sir, Ile enter againe; her title shall be My deare Lindabrides.
Lindabrides?
I Sir, the Emperour Alicandro's Daughter, and the Prince M [...]ridians sister (in the Knight of the Sunne) she should haue been married to him, but that the Princesse Clari [...]iana—
O you betray your reading.
Nay sir, I haue read History: I am a little Humanitian. Interrupt me no [...], good Sir. My deare Lindabrides, My deare Lindabrides, My deare Lindabrides, me thinkes you are Melancholy.
I, and take her by the Rosie-fingerd hand.
Must I so? O: My deare Lindabrides, me thinkes you are Melancholie.
Or thus Sir. All variety of diuine pleasures, choyse sports, sweete Musique, rich Fare, braue Attires, soft Beds, & silken thoughts, attend this deare Beauty.
Beleeue me that's prerty: All varietie of diuino pleasures, choyse sports, sweet Musique, rich Fare, braue Attires, soft Beds, and silken thoughts, attend this deare Beauty.
And then, offring to kisse her hand, if she shall coyly recoyle, and signifie your repulse; you are to re-enforce your selfe with, More then most faire Lady; let not the Rigor of your iust disdaine thus coursly censure of your seruants zeale: and (with-all) protest her, To be the onely, and absolute vn-paraeleld Creature, you do adore, aud admire, and respect, and reuerence, in this Court, Corner of the world, or Kingdome.
This is hard by my faith: Ile begin it all againe.
Do so, and I will Act it for your Lady.
Will you vouchsafe sir? All varietie of diuine pleasures, choise Sports, sweete Musique, rich Fare, brau [...] Attire, soft Beds, and silken thoughts, attend this deare Beauty.
So Sir, pray you a way.
More then most faire Lady, let not the Rigor of your iust disdaine, thus coursly censure of your s [...]ruants zeale. I protest you are the only and absolute vn-aparailed—
Vn-paraleld.
Vn-paraleld Creature, I do adore, and admire, and respect, and reuerence, in this Court, Corner of the world, or kingdome.
This is if shee abide you: But now; put case shee should be Passant when you enter, as thus: you are to frame your Gate ther'after, and call vpon her: Lady, Nimph, [Page] Sweete Refuge, Starre of our Court: Then if shee be Guardant, here: you are to come on, and ( [...]aterally disposing your selfe,) sweare by her blushing and well coulored cheeke: the bright dye of her hayre, her Iuorie teeth, or some such white and Innocent oath, to induce you. If Reguardant; then, maintein your station, Briske, and Irpe, shew the supple motion of your plyant body: but (in chiefe) of your knee, and hand, which cannot but arride her proude Humor exceedingly.
I conceiue you sir, I shall performe all these things in good time, I doubt not, they do so hit me.
Well Sir, I am your Lady; make vse of any of these beginnings, or some other out of your owne inuention: and prooue how you can holde vp, and follow it. Say, Say.
Yes Sir: my deare Lindabrides.
No, you affect that Lindabrides too much: And (let me tell you) it is not so Courtly. Your Pedant should prouide you some parcels of French, or some pretty Commodity of Italian to commence with, if you would be exotick, and exquisite.
Yes Sir, he was at my lodging t'other morning, I gau [...] him a Doublet.
Double your beneuolence, and giue him the Hose too; cloathe you his body, hee will helpe to apparaile your minde. But now, see what your proper Genius can performe alone, without adiection of any other Minerua.
I comprehend you sir.
I do stand you Sir: fall backe to your first place. Good; passing well: Very properly pursewd.
Beautifull, ambiguous, and sufficient Lady. What are you all alone.
We would be Sir, if you would leaue vs.
I am at your beauties appointment: bright Angell; but—
What but?
No harme, more then most faire feature.
Th [...]t touch relished well.
But I protest.
And why should you protest?
For good will ( deare esteem'd Madam) and I hope your Ladiship will so conceiue of it: If euer you haue seene great TAMBERLAINE.
O that Blanke was excellent: if you could pick out more of these Play-particles, and (as occasion shall salute you) embroyder or damaske your discourse with them (perswade your soule) it would iudiciouslye commend you: Come, this was a well-dischar'gd and auspicious Bout: prooue the second.
Lady, I cannot swagger it in Black and Yellow.
Why if you can Reuell it in White Sir, 'tis sufficient.
Say you so Sweete Lady? Lan, tede de, de, dant, dant, dant, dante, &c. No (in good faith) Madame, whoseuer tould your Ladyship so, abus'd you; but I would be glad to meete your Ladiship in a measure.
Me Sir? beelike you measure me by your selfe then?
Would I might Fayre Feature.
And what were you the better, if you might?
The better it please you to aske, Fayre Lady.
Why this was rauishing, and most acutely continew'd; Well, spend not your humor too much, you haue now competently exercised your Conceipt: This (once or twise a day (wil render you an accomplisht, elaborate, and well leueled Gentleman; conuay in your Courting-stock, wee will (in the heate of this) goe visite the Nymphs Chamber.
ACTVS QVARTVS.
SCENA. 1.
I would this water would arriue once our trauayling friend so commended to vs.
So would I, for he has left all vs in trauaile, with expectation of it.
Pray Ioue, I neuer rise from this Couch, if euer I thirsted more for a thing, in my whole time of being a Courtier.
Nor I, Ile be sworne; the very mention of it sets my lippes in a worse heate, then if he had sprinkled them with Mercury. Reach me the glasse Sirah.
Heere Lady.
They do not peele sweete charge? do they?
Yes a little Guardian.
O 'tis a imminent good signe. Euer when my lippes do so, I am sure to haue some delicious good drinke or other approaching.
Mary & this may be good for vs Ladies: for (it seemes) tis far-fet by their stay.
My pallat for yours ( deare Honor) it shall prooue most elegant I warrant you: O, I do fancie this geare thats long a comming, with an vnmeasurable strayne.
Pray thee sit downe Philautia, that Rebatu beecoms thee singularly.
Ist not queynt?
Yes faith: me thinkes thy seru [...]nt Hedon is nothing so obsequious to thee, as he was wont to be; I know not how, Hee's growne out of his Garbe a-late, hee's warp't▪
In truenesse, and so me thinkes too, he's much conuerted.
Tut; let him bee what he will, 'tis an Animal [...] I dreame not of. This tire (me thinkes) makes me looke very Ingenuously, quick, and spirited: I should be some Laura, or some Delia me thinkes.
As I am wise (faire honors) that title she gaue him, to be her Ambition, spoild him: Before, he was the most propitious, and obseruant young Nouice.—
No, no; you are the whole heauen awry Guardian, tis the swaggering tilt-horse Anaides drawes with him there, has beene the diuerter of him.
For Cupids sake speake no more of him; would I might neuer dare to looke in a Mirror againe, if I respect ere a Marmaset of them all, otherwise, then I would a Fether, or my Shittle-cock, to make sport with, now and then.
Come sit downe; troath (and you be good Beauties) lets run ouer 'hem all now: Which is the properst man amongst them? I say the Trauailer, Amorphus.
O fie on him: he lookes like a Dutch Trumpetter i'the battell of Lepanto, in the gallery yonder; and speakes to the tune of a country Lady, that comes euer i'the rere ward, or traine of a Fashion.
I should haue iudgement, in a feature sweet Beauties.
A body would thinke so, at these yeares.
And I prefer another now, farre before him, A million at least.
Who might that be Guardian?
Mary (faire Charge) Anaides.
Anaides? you talk't of a tune Philautia, theres one speakes in a Key: like the opening of some Iustices gate, or a Post-Boyes horne, as if his voyce fear'd an Arrest for some ill words it should giue, and were loath to come forth.
I, and he has a very imperfect face.
Like a squeez'd Orenge, sower, sower.
His Hand's too great to; by at least a strawes breadth.
Nay he has a woorse fault then that too.
A long heele?
That were a fault in a Lady rather then him: No, they say he puts of the Calues of his legges with his Stockings euery night.
Out vpon him: turne to another of the Pictures for Gods sake. What saies Argurion? whom do's she commend afore the rest?
I hope I haue instructed her sufficiently for an answere.
Troth I made the motion to her Lady-ship for one to day i'the Presence, but it appear'd shee was other wayes furnisht before; She would none.
Who was that Argurion?
Mary the little, poore, plaine Gentlemā i'the black there.
Who? Criticus?
I, I, he; A fellow that no body so much as lookt vpon, or regarded, and she would haue had me done him particuler grace.
That was a true trick of your selfe Moria, to perswade Argurion affect the scholler.
Tut; but she shalbe no chooser for me. In good faith I like the Citizens sonne there Asotus, mee thinkes, none of them all come neare him.
Not Hedon?
Hedon, in troth no. Hedon's a pretty slight Courtier▪ and he weares his clothes well, and sometimes in fashion; marry his face is but indifferent, and he has no such excellent body. No; th'other is a most delicate youth, a sweete face, a streight body, a well proportion'd legge, and foote, a white hand, a tender voyce.
How now Argurion?
O you should haue let her alone, she was bestowing a Coppy of him vpon vs.
Why she doates more palpably vpon him, then ere his Father did vpon her.
Beleeue me, the young gentleman deserues it; if she could doate more t'were not amisse: He is an exceeding proper youth, and would haue made a most neate Barber-surgeon, if he had beene put to it in time.
Say you so? me thinkes▪ he lookes like a Taylor already.
I, that had said on one of his Customers suites.
Wel Ladyes, Iest on: the best of you both would be glad of such a seruant.
I, Ile be sworne would they: Go to Beauties, make much of Time, and Place, and Occasion, and Opportunity, and Fauorites, and things that belong to them; for Ile ensure you, they will all relinquish; they cannot endure aboue another yeere; I know it out of future experience, and therefore take exhibition, and warning: I was once a Reueller my selfe, and though I speake it (as mine owne Trumpet) I was then esteemd—
The very Marchpane of the Court I warrant?
And all the Gallants came about you like flies, did they not?
Go to; they did somewhat, that's no matter now. Here comes Hedon.
SCENA. 2.
Saue you sweete and cleare beauties: By the spirit that mooues in me, you are almost pleasingly bestow'd Ladies. Only, I can take it for no good Omen, to finde mine Honor so deiected.
You need not feare Sir, I did of purpose humble my selfe against your comming, to decline the pride of my Ambition.
Fayre Honor, Ambition dares not stoope; but if it be your sweet pleasure, I shall loose that Title; I will (as I am [Page] Hedon) apply my selfe to your bounties.
That were the next way to distitle my selfe of Honor: O no, rather be still Ambitious I pray you.
I will be any thing that you please, whilst it pleaseth you to be your selfe Lady. Sweete Phantaste, Deare Moria, most beautifull Argurion.—
Farewell Hedon.
Anaides, Stay: wether go you?
'Slight, what should I do here? and you engrose [...]hem all for your owne vse, 'tis time for me to seeke out.
I engrose 'hem? Away mischiefe, this is one of your extrauagant Iests now, because I began to salute 'hem by their names—
Faith you might haue spar'de vs Madame Prudence the Guardian there, though you had more couetously aymde at the rest.
'Shart, take 'hem all man; what speake you to me of ayming or Couetous?
I, say you so? nay then, haue at 'hem: Ladies, heer's one hath distinguish'd you by your names already; It shall onely become me, to aske; How you doe?
Gods so, was this the disseigne you trauel'd with?
Who answers the Brazen head? it spoke to some body?
Lady Wisedome, do you Interprete for these puppets?
In truth, and sadnesse (Honors) you are in great offence for this; goe too, the Gentleman (Ile vndertake with him) is a man of faire liuing, and able to maintaine a Lady in her two Coaches a day, besides Pages, Munkeys, and Parachitos, with s [...]tch attendants as she shall thinke meete for her turne; and therefore there is more respect requirable, how soeuer you seeme to conniue: Hearke you Sir, let me discourse a sillable with you. I am to say to you, these Ladyes are not of that close, and open behauiour, as happily you may suspend; their Cariadge is well knowne to be such as it should be, both gentle and extraordinary.
O here comes the other Payre.
SCENA. 3.
That was your Fathers Loue, the Nymph Argurion. I would haue you direct all your Courtship thither, if you could but endeare your selfe to her affection, you were eternally engallanted.
In truth Sir? pray Phoebus I prooue fauorsome in her fayre eyes.
All diuine mixture, and encrease of beauty, to this bright B [...]uy of Ladyes; and to the male- Courtiers Complement, and Courtesie.
In the behalfe of the Males, I gratefie you Amorphus.
And I of the Females.
Succinctly spoken: I doe vale to both your thanks, and kisse them; but primarily to yours, Most ingenious, acute, and polite Lady.
Gods my life, how he do's all to be qualifie her! Ingenious, Acute, and Polite? as if there were not others in place, as Ingenious, Acute, and Polite, as she.
Yes, but you must know Lady, he cannot speake out of a Dictionary method.
Sit downe sweete Amorphus. When will this water come thinke you?
It cannot now be long fayre Lady.
Now obserue Mercury.
How most Ambiguous beauty? Loue you? that I will by this Hand-kercher.
'Slid he drawes his oathes out of his pocket.
But will you be constant?
Constant Madame? I will not say for Constantnesse, but by this Pursse (which I would bee loath to sweare by, vnlesse 'twere embroyder'd) [Page] I protest (more then most fayre Lady) you are the onely, absolute and vn-paraleld Creature, I do adore, and admire, and respect, and reuerence in this Court, Corner of the world, or Kingdome, Me thinkes you are Melancholy.
Do's your heart speake all this?
Say you?
O he is groaping for another oath.
Now by this Watch (I marle how forward the day is) I do vnfaignedly vowe my selfe ('Slight 'tis deeper then I tooke it, past fiue) your's entirely addicted, Madame.
I require no more dearest Asotus, hence-forth let me call you mine; and in remembrance of me, voutchsafe to weare this Chaine, and this Diamond.
O god sweete Lady.
There are new oathes for him: what? dooth Hermes taste no Alteration in all this?
Yes, thou hast strooke Argurion enamour'd on Asotus methinkes?
Alasse no; I am no body, I: I can do nothing in this disguise.
But thou hast not wounded any of the rest, Cupid?
Not yet: it is enough that I haue begunne so prosperously.
Tut, these are nothing to the Gems I will howerly bestow vpo [...] thee: be but faithfull and kinde to me, and I will lade thee with my richest bounties: beholde here my Bracelets from mine Armes.
Not so good Lady, By this Diamond.
Take 'hem; weare 'hem: my Iewels, Chaine of Pearle, Pendants, all I haue.
Nay then, by this Pearle You make me a Wanton.
Shall not she answere for this, to mainteine him thus in swearing?
O, no, there is away to weane him from this: the Gentleman may be reclaim'd.
I, if you had the ayring of his apparell Cosse, I thinke.
Louing? 'twere pitty I should be liuing else, beleeue me. Saue you Sir. Saue you sweete Lady, Saue you Mounsieur Anaides; Saue you deare Madame.
Doo'st thou knowe him that saluted thee, Hedon?
No, some idle Fungoso I warrant you.
'Sbloud, I neuer saw him till this morning, and he salutes me as familiarly, as if we had knowne together, since the first yeare of the siege of Troy.
A most right-handed, and auspicious encounter. Confine your selfe to your fortunes.
For gods sake lets haue some Ri [...]dles or Purposes; hough.
No faith, your Prophecies are best, the 'tother are stale.
Prophecies? wee cannot all [...]it in at them; we shall make a confusion: no; what calde you that we had in the forenoone?
Substantiues, and Adiectiues. Ist not Hedon?
I that, who begins?
I haue thought; speake your Adiectiues Sirs?
But doe not you change then.
Not I, Who sayes?
Odoriferous.
Popular.
Humble.
White-liuer'd.
Barbarous.
Pythagoricall.
Yours Signior.
What must I doe Sir?
Giue foorth your Adiectiue with the rest; as Prosperous, Good, Faire, Sweete, Well.
Any thing that hath not bin spoken.
Yes Sir: Well-spoken shall be mine.
What? ha you all doone.
I.
Then the Substantiue is Breeches. Why Odoriferous Breeches Guardian?
Odoriferous, because Odoriferous: that which containes most variety of sauor, and smell, we say is most Odoriferous: now Breeches I presume are incident to that variety, and therefore, Odoriferous Breeches.
Well, we must take it howsoeuer, who's next. Philautia.
Popular.
Why Popular Breeches?
Mary that is, when they are not content to be generally noted in Court; but will presse footth on common Stages, and Brokers stalls, to the publique view of the world.
Good: why Humble Breeches? Argurien.
Humble, because they vse to be sat vpon; besides if you tye 'hem not vp, their propertie is to fall downe about your heeles.
Shee has worne the Breeches it seemes which haue done so.
But why White-liuerd?
Why? 'Sharte are not their linings white? besides, when they come in swaggering company, and will pocket vp any thing; may they not properly bee said to bee White-liuerd?
O yes, wee cannot deny it. And why Barbarous, Hedon?
Barbarous, because commonly when you haue worn [...] your Breeches sufficiently, you giue them to your Barbar.
That's good: but now Pythagoricall?
I, Amorphus. Why Pythagoricall Breeches?
O most kindly of all, 'tis a conceit of that Fortune; I am bould to hug my braine for.
How ist, E [...]quisite Amorphus?
O I am rapt with it, 'tis so fit, so proper, so happy.
Nay doe not rack vs thus?
I neuer truly relisht my selfe before. Giue me your eares. Breeches Pythagoricall, by reason of their transmigration into seuerall shapes.
Most rare in sweete troth. Mary this young Gentleman, for his Well-spoken—
I, why Well-spoken Breeches?
Well-spoken: mary well-spoken, because whatsoeuer they speake is well taken, and whatsoeuer is well taken, is well-spoken.
Excellent: beleeue me.
Not so Ladyes neither.
But why Breeches now?
Breeches quasi Beare-riches; when a gallant beares all his Ritches in his Breeches.
In good faith these vnhappy Pages, would be whipt for staying thus.
Beshrew my hand, and my hart else.
I do wonder at their protraction.
Pray God my whore haue not discouer'd her selfe to the raskally Boyes, and that be the cause of their stay.
I must sute my selfe with another Page; this idle Prosaites will neuer be brought to waite well▪
Sir I haue a kinseman I could willingly wish to your seruice, if you would deigne to accept of him.
And I shalbe glad (most sweet Lady) to imbrace him; where is he?
I can fetch him Sir, but I would be loath to make you turne away your other Page.
You shall not most sufficient Lady, I will keepe both: pray you lets go see him.
Whether goes my Loue?
Ile returne presently; I go but to see a Page with this Lady.
As sure as Fate 'tis so; shee ha's opened all: A poxe of all Cocatrices. Damne mee if shee haue playde [Page] loose with me, Ile cut her throate within a hayres bredth, so it may be heald againe.
What is he Iealous of his Hermaphrodite?
O I, this will be excellent sporte.
Phantaste, Argurion, what? you are sodainly stroake me thinkes; for Gods will lets ha' some Musique till they come. Ambition reach the Lyra I pray you.
Any thing to which my Honor shall direct me.
Come Amorphus; cheare vp Phantaste.
It shall be my pride faire Lady to attempt all that is in my power. But heere is an Instrument that (alone) is able to infuse soule in the most melancholique, and dull disposde Creature vpon earth; O! let me kisse thy faire knees: Beauteous [...]ares attend it.
Will you haue the Kisse Honor.
I good Ambition.
I made this Ditty and the Note to it vpon a kisse that my Honor gaue me; how like you it Sir.
A pretty Ayre; in generall I like it well. But in particuler, your long die-Note did arride me most, but it was somwhat too long: I can shew one, almost of the same nature, but much before it, and not so long; in a Composition of mine owne: I thinke I haue both the Note, and Ditty about me.
Pray you Sir see.
Yes there is the Note; and all the parts if I mis-thinke not. I will reade the Ditty to your Beauties here, but first I am to make you familiar with the occasion, which presents it selfe thus. Vpon a time, going to take my leaue of the Emperour, and kisse his great handes; there being then present, the Kings of Fraunce, and Arragon, the Dukes of Sauoy, Florence, Orleance, Bourbon, Brunswick, the Lantgrau [...], Count Palatine, all which had seuerally feasted me; besides infinite more of inferiour persons, as Earles, and others: it was my chance (the Emperour detain'd by some other affayre) to waite him the fifth part of an houre, or much nere it▪ In which time (retiring my selfe into a Bay-window) I encountred the Lady Annabel neice to the Empresse, and [...]ister to the king of Arragon; who (hauing neuer before ey de me, but onely heard the common report of my Vertue, Learning, and Trauaile) fell into that extremity of passion, for my loue, that she there immediatly sounded: Phisitians were sent for; she had to her chamber; so to her bed; where (languishing some few daies) after many times calling vpon me, with my name in her mouth, she expirde. As that (I must needes say) is the onely fault of my Fortune, that as it hath euer bin my hap to be sew'd to by all Ladies, and Beauties where I haue come; so, I neuer yet soiourn'd, or rested in that place, or part of the world, where some great and admirable faire Creature died not for my loue.
O the sweete power of trauaile, are you guilty of this Cupid?
No Mercury; and that his page (Cos) knowes, and he were here present to be sworne.
O she is to quick with him; he hath not deuis'd that yet.
Marry some houre beefore shee departed, she bequeath'd to me this Glou [...]; which the Emperour himselfe tooke care to send after me, in sixe Coaches, couer'd all with black-veluet, attended by the state of his Empire; all which he freely gaue me, and I reciprocally (out of the same bounty) gaue it to the Lords that brought it: onely reseruing, and respecting, the gift of the deceasde Lady, vpon which I compos'd this Ode, and set it to my most affected Instrument the Lyra.
Blasphemy, Blasphemy Cupid.
I, Ile reuenge it time inough; Hermes.
Good Amorphus, let's here it sung.
I care not to do that, since it pleaseth Philautia to request it.
Heere Sir.
Nay play it I pray you, you do well, you do well: how like you it Sir?
Very well in troath.
But very well? O you are a meere Mammo [...]hrept in iudgement then: why do you not obserue how excellently the Ditty is affected in euery place? that I do not marry a word of short quantity, to a long Note▪ nor an ascending Sillable to a discending Tone. Besides vpon the worde Best there, you see how I do enter with an odde Minnum, and driue it thorough the Briefe, which no intelligent Musitian (I know) but will affirme to bee very rare, extraordinary, and pleasing.
And yet not fit to lament the death of a Lady for all this.
Tut heere be they will swallow any thing.
Pray you let mee haue a coppy of it Amorphus.
And me too, in troath I like it exceedingly.
I haue denyed it to Princes, neuerthelesse to you (the true Female Twinnes of Perfection) I am wonne to depart withall.
I hope I shall haue my Honors coppy.
You are Ambitious in that Hedon. Enter Anaides.
How now Anaides? what is it hath coniur'd vp this distemperature in the circle of your face?
'Sblod what haue you to do? A pox of God o'your filthy trauailing Beard; hold your tongue.
Nay, dost heare mischiefe?
Away Musk-cat.
I say to thee: Thou art rude, impudent, course, impolisht; a Frapler, and base.
Heart of my father, what a strange alteration has halfe a yeeres haunting of Ordinaries wrought in this fellow? that came with a Tuff-taffata Ierkin to Towne but th'other day, and now hee is turn'd Hercules, hee wants but a Club.
Sir, I will garter my hose with your guttes; and that shall be all.
'Slid what rare fire workes bee heere? flash, flash.
What's the matter Hedon? can you tell?
Nothing but that he lacks mony, & thinkes weel [...] lend him some to be friends.
Come sweete Lady▪ in good truth ile haue it, you shall not deny me; Morus perswade your Aunt I may haue her picture, by any meanes.
Yes Sir: good Aunt now, let him haue it; he will vse me the better, if you loue me, do good Aunt.
Well, tell him he shall haue it.
Maister, you shall haue it, she saies;
Shall I? thanke her good Page.
What has he entertaind the Foole?
I, heele waite close you shall see, though the Begg [...]r hang off.
Aunt my maister thankes you.
Call him hether.
Yes: maister.
Yes in very truth, and gaue me this Pursse, and he ha's promis'd me a most fine Dog; which he will haue drawne with my Picture, and desires most vehemently to be knowne to your Ladyshipps.
Call him hether, 'tis good groping such a Gull.
Maister Asotus. Maister Asotus.
For Gods sake, let me go: you see, I am call'd to the Ladies.
Wilt thou forsake me then?
Gods so, what would you haue mee doe?
Come hither maister Asotus; I do ensure your Ladyships, he is a Gentleman of a very worthy desart; and of a most [...]ounti [...]ull nature. You must shew and insinuate your selfe responsible, and equiualent now to my commendment. Good Honors grace him.
I protest (more then most faire Ladyes) I doe wish all variety of diuine ple [...]sure, choyse sport, sweete Musique, ritch Fare, braue A [...]yres, soft Beds, and silken Thoughts, attend these fayre Beauties. Will it please your Ladyship to weare this Chaine of Pearle, and this Diamond for my sake.
O.
And you Madam this Iewell, and Pendants.
O.
We know not how to deserue these bounties out of so slight merrit, Asotus.
No in faith, but the'rs my Gloue for a fauor.
And soone after the Reuels I will bestowe a Garter on you.
O Lord Ladyes, it is more grace then euer I could haue hop'd, but that it pleaseth your Ladyships to extend; I protest it is enough that you but take knowledge of my—if your Ladiships want embroydered Gownes, Tyres of any Fashion, Rebatus, Iewels, or Carkanets, any thing what soeuer; if you vouchsafe to accept.
And for it they will helpe you to Shoo-tyes, and deuises.
I cannot vtter my selfe (Deare Beauties) but; you can conceiue—
O.
Sir we will acknowledge your seruice doubt not; henceforth you shall be no more Asotus to vs, but our Golde-Finch, and we your Cages.
O God Madams, how shall I deserue this? if I were but made acquainted with Hedon now; Ile trye: pray you away.
How he prayes Money to go away from him.
Amorphus, a word with you: heeres a Watch I would bestowe vpon you, pray you make mee knowne to that Gallant.
That I will Sir. Mounsieur Hedon I must intreate you to exchange knowledge with this Gentleman.
'Tis a thing (next to the water we expect) I thirste after Sir. Good Mounsieur Asotus.
Good Mounsieur Hedon, I would be glad to bee lou'd of men of your Ranke, and spirit, I protest. Please you to accept this payre of Bracelets Sir, they are not worth the bestowing.
O Hercules; how the Gentleman purchases? this must needes bring Argurion to a consumption.
Sir, I shall neuer stand in the merit of such Bounty. I feare.
O Lord Sir; your acquaintance shall be sufficient. And if at any time you neede my Bill or my Bond.
O, O.
Helpe the Lady there.
Gods deare, Argurion. Madam, how do you?
Sicke.
Haue her foorth and giue her ayre.
I come againe streight Ladyes.
Well, I doubt all the Phisique he ha's, will scarce recouer her; shee's too farre spent.
SCENA. 4.
O heer's the Water come: fetche Glasses Page.
Heart of my body heeres a coyle indeed with your [...]ealous humors. Nothing but Whore, and Bitch, and all the [Page] villanous swaggering names you can thinke on? 'Slid take your Bottle, and put it in your guttes [...]or me, Ile see you poxt ere I follow you any longer?
Nay good Punke, sweete Rascall; damne me if I am Iealous now.
That's true indeed, pray lets goe.
What's the matter there?
Slight he has me vpon Intergatories, (nay my Mother shall know how you vse me) where I haue beene? and why I should stay so long? and how ist possible? and with-all calles me at his pleasure; I knowe not how many Cocatrices, and things.
In truth and sadnesse, these are no good Epithites
to bestow vpon any Gentlewoman; and (Ile ensure you) if I had knowne you would haue dealt thus with my Daughter, she should neuer haue fancied you so deeply, as she has doone. Goe too.
Why doe you he [...]re Mother Moria. Heart.
Nay I pray you Sir doe not sweare.
Sweare? why? Sblood I haue sworne afore now I hope. Both you and your daughter mistake me; I haue not honor'd Arete that is helde the worthyest Lady in the Court (next to Cynthia) with halfe that obseruance and respect, as I haue doone her in priuate, howsoeuer outwardly I haue caried my selfe carelesse and negligent. Come you are a foolish Punke, and know not when you are well employde. Kisse me. Come on. Do it I say.
Nay, indeed I must confesse she is apt too misprision. But I must haue you leaue it Minion.
How now Asotus? how do's the Lady?
Fayth ill. I haue left my Page with her at her lodging.
O heer's the rarest Water that euer was tasted; fill him some.
What? has my Maister a new Page?
Yes a kinsman of the Lady Morias: you must waite better now, or you are casheer'd Prosaites.
Come Gallants; you must pardon my foolish humor, when I am angry, that any thing crosses me, I grow impatient streight. Here I drinke to you.
O that we had fiue or sixe Bottles more of this liquor.
Now I commend your iudgement Amorphus: who's that knockes? looke Page.
O most delicious, a little of this would make Argurion well.
O no giue her no colde drinke by any meanes.
Sblood, this water is the spirit of Wine, Ile be hangd [...]lse.
Heeres the Lady Arete Madam.
SCENA. 5.
What at your Beuer Gallants?
Wilt please your Lady-shipp drinke, tis of the new fountaine water.
Not I, Moria; I thanke you: Gallants you must prouide for some solemne Reuels to night, Cynthia is minded to come foorth, and grace your sports with her presence; therefore I could wish there were some thing extraordinary to entertaine her.
What say you to a Masque?
Nothing better, if the Inuention or Proiect were new and rare.
Why, Ile send for Criticus, and haue his aduise; you will be ready in your indeuours;
Yes▪ but will not your Lady-ship stay?
Not now Phantaste.
Let her go, I pray you; good Lady Sobriety, I am glad we are rid of her.
What a set Face the gentlewoman has, as she were still going to a Sacrifice?
O shee is the extraction of a dozen of Puritans, for a looke.
Of all Nimphs 'i [...]he Court I cannot away with her: 'tis the coursest thing—
I wounder how Cynthia can affect her so aboue the rest! Heere be they are euery way as faire as she, and a thought, fayrer, I trow.
I, and as ingenious, and conceipted as she.
I and as politique as she, for all she sets such a Forehead on't.
Would I were dead if I would change to bee Cynthia.
Or I.
Or I.
And there's her Minion Criticus; why his aduise more then Amorphus? haue I not Inuention, afore him? Learning, to better that Inuention, aboue him? and Trauaile.—
Death, what talke you of his Learning? he vnderstands no more then a schoole-Boy; I haue put him downe my selfe a thousand times (by this Ayre) and yet I neuer talkt with him but twise in my life; you neuer saw his like: I could neuer get him to argue with me, but once, and then because I could not construe a peece of Horace at first sighte, he went awaye and laught at mee. By Gods will, I scorne him, as I do the sodden Nimph that was heere euen now; his mistris Arete: And I loue my selfe for nothing else.
I wonder the Fellow d [...]e's not hang himselfe, being thus scorn'd, and contemn'd of vs that are held the most accomplisht Society of Gallants!
By your selues none else.
I protest, if I had no Musique in me, no Courtship; [Page] that I were not a Reueller and could daunce, or had not those excellent qualities that giue a man Life, and Perfection, but a meere poore Scholler as he is, I thinke I should make some desperate way with my selfe; whereas now (would I might neuer breath more) if I do know that Creature in this kingdome, with whome I would change.
This is excellent: well I must alter this soone.
Looke you do Cupid.
O I shall tickle it soone; I did neuer appeare till then. Slid I am the ne [...]tliest-made Gallant i'the company, & haue the best presence; and my dauncing—I know what the Vsher saide to me the last time I was at the schoole; would I might leade Philautia in the measure, and 'tweere gods will. I am most worthy, I am sure.
Maister I can tell you newes, the Lady kist me yonder, and plaid with me; and sayes she lou'd you once, as well as she do's me, but that you cast her of.
Peace my most esteemed Page.
Yes.
Gallants, thinke vpon your Time, and take it by the forehead; Anaides, we must mixe this gentleman with you in acquaintance. Mounsieur Asotus.
I am easily intreated to grace any of your friends, Amorphus.
Sir, and his friends shall likewise grace you Sir. Nay I begin to know my selfe now.
O, you must continue your Bounties.
Must I? why ile giue him this Ruby on my finger.
Come Ladies; but stay we shall want one to Lady it in our Masque in place of Argurion.
Why my page shall do it, Gelaia.
Troth and he' [...]e do it well, it shalbe so.
Do you heere Sir, I do hartely wish your acquaintance, and I partly know my selfe worthy of it; please you Sir, to accept this poore Ruby in a Ring Sir. The Poe [...]ie is of my [Page] owne deuise▪ Let this blush for me Sir.
So it must for me, too. For I am not asham'd to take it.
Sweete man, by my troath maister I loue you; will you loue me to? for my Aunts sake? Ile waite well you shall see, Ile still be heere. Would I might neuer stirre, but you are in gay clothes.
As for that Morus, thou shalt see more here after, in the meane time, by this Ay [...]e, or by this Fether, ile do as much for thee as any Ga [...]lant shall do for his Page whatsoeuer, in this Court, corner of the world, or Kingdome.
I wounder this gentleman should affect to keepe a [...]oole, mee thinkes he makes sport enough with him selfe.
Well Prosaites tweere good you did waite closer.
I, Ile looke to it; 'tis time.
Wee are like to haue sumptuous Reuells to night Sirs.
We must needes when all the choisest Singularities of the Court are vp in Pantofles, nere a one of them, but is able to make a whole shew of it sel [...]e.
Sirah a Torch, a torch.
O what a call is there? I will haue a Canz [...]net made with nothing in it but [...]; and the Burthen shalbe. I come.
SCENA. 6.
ACTVS QVINTVS.
SCENA. 1.
Hymnus.
SCENA. 2. THE FIRST MASQVE.
Cleare Pearle of Heauen, and not to be farther ambitious in titles) Cynthia. The fame of this illustrious night, among others hath also drawne these foure faire Virgins from the Pallace of their Queene Perfection (a word, which makes no sufficient difference, twixt hers, and thine) to visit thy Imperiall Court: for she their Soueraigne Lady, not finding where to dwel among men, before her teturne to heauen: aduised them wholy to consecrate themselues to thy Coelestiall seruice, as in whose cleare Spirit (the proper Element, and Sphare of vertues) they should behould not her alone, (their euer honor'd Mistresse) but themselues) more truely themselues) to liue enthronised. [Page] Her selfe would haue commended them vnt [...] thy fauour more particularly, but that she knowes no commendation is more auailable with thee then that of proper vertue: Neuerthelesse, she wilde them to present this Christall Mound, a note of Monarchy, and Symbole of Perfection, to thy more worthy Deity; which as heere by me they most humbly do, so amongst the Rarities thereof, that is the chiefe, to shew whatsoeuer the world hath excellent, howsoeuer remote and various. But your irradiate iudgement will soone discouer the secrets of this little Christall world. Themselues (to appeare the more plainly) because they know nothing more odious then false pretexts: haue chosen to expresse their seuerall qualities thus in seuerall coulors.
1 The first in Citron coullour is naturall Affection, which giuen vs to procure our good, is sometime called Storge, and as euery one is neerest to himselfe, so this Hand-maid of Reason, allowable Selfe-loue, as it is without harme, so are none without it: Her place in the Court of Perfection was to quicken mindes in the pursute of Honor. Her deuice is a Perpendicular Leuell vpon a▪ Cube or Square. The word, SE SVO MODVLO: alluding to that true measure of ones selfe, which as euery one ought to make, so is it most conspicuous in thy diuine example.
2 The second in Greene is Aglaia, delectable and pleasant Conuersation, whose property it is to mooue a kindly delight, and sometime not without laughter: Her office to entertaine assemblies, and keepe societies together with fayre familliarity. Her deuice within a Ring of clouds, a Heart with shine about it, the worde, CVRARVM NVBILA PELLO. An Allegory of Cynthias light, which no lesse cleares the Skie, then her [...]ayre M [...]rthe the heart.
3 The third, in discoul [...]ur'd Mantle spangled all ouer, is Euphantaste, a well conceited Wittinesse, and imployde in honouring the Courte with the ritches of her pure Inuention. Her deuice vpon a Petasus, or Mer [...]nriall Hat, a Crescent. The worde; SIC LAVS INGENII: Inferring that the praise and glory of [Page] wit, doth euer increase, as dooth thy growing Moone.
4 The fourth in White is Apheleia, a Nymph as pure and s [...] ple as the Soule, or as an abrase Table, and is therefore called Symplicity; without foulds, without pleights, without coullour, without counterfeit: and (to speake plainely) Plainenesse it selfe. Her deuice is no Deuice. The word vnder her siluer Shield: OMNIS ABEST FVCVS, alluding to thy spotlesse selfe, who art as farre from Impurity, as from Mortality.
My selfe (Coelestiall Goddesse) more fit for the Court of Cynthia, then the Arbors of Cythere, am call'd Anteros, or Loues enemy; the more welcome therefore to thy Court, and the fitter to conduct this Quaternio, who as they are thy professed Votaries, and for that cause aduersaries to Loue, yet thee (Perpetuall Virgin) they both loue, and vow to loue eternally.
SCENA. 3.
SCENA. 4. THE SECOND MASQVE.
Sister of Phoebus to whose bright Orbe we owe, that we not complaine of his Absence; These foure Brethren (for they are Brethrē and sonnes of Eutaxia, a Lady knowne, and highly belou'd of your resplendent Deity) not able to be absent, when Cynthia held a solempnity, officiously insinuate themselues into thy presence: For as there are foure Cardinall vertues, vpon which the whole Frame of the Cour [...] dooth mooue, so are these the foure Cardinall properties without which the Body of Complement mooueth not. With those foure siluer Iauelins (which they beare in their hands) they support in Princes Courts the state of the Presence, as by office they are obliged; which though heere they may seeme superfluous, yet for Honors sake they thus presume to visite thee, hauing also bin imployde in the Pallace of Queene Perfection. And though to them, that would make themselues gratious to a Goddesse, Sacrifices were fitter then Presents or Impresses, yet they both hope thy fauor, and (in place of eyther) vse seuerall Symboles containing the titles of thy imperiall Dignity.
1 The hit hermost in the changeable blew, and greene Roabe, is the commendably-fashionate Gallant Eucosmos; whose Courtly Ha [...]it is the grace of the Presence, and delight of the surueying eye: whom Ladies vnderstand by the names of Neate, & Elegant. His Symbol is DIVAE VIRGINI, in which he would expresse thy Deities principall glory, which hath euer bin Virginity.
2 The second in the ritch Acoutrement, and Roabe of Purple empaled with Gold, is Eupathes; who intertaines his minde with an harmlesse, but not incurious variety: All the Obiects of his sences are Sumptuous, himselfe a Gallant, that without excesse can make vse of superfluities: goe ritchly in Imbroyders, Iewels, (and what not?) without Vanity; and fare delicately without Gluttony: and therefore (not without cause) is vniuersally thought to be of fine humor. His Symbole [Page] is DIVAE OPTIMAE. An attribute to expresse thy Goodnesse in which thou so resemblest loue thy father.
3. The third in the blush-collourd Sute is Eutolmos, as duly respecting others, as neuer neglecting himselfe; commonly knowne by the title of Good Audacitie, to Courts and courtly assemblies, a guest most acceptable. His Simbole is DIVAE VIRAGINI, To expresse thy hardy Courage, in chase of Sauage beasts which harbor in Woods, and Wildernesse.
4. The fourth in Watchet-Tinsell, is the kinde, and truly Benefique Eucolos. Who imparteth not without respect, but yet without difficulty: and hath the happinesse to make euery kindnesse seeme double, by the timely, and freely bestowing thereof, he is the chiefe of them who (by the vulgar) are said to be of Good Nature. His Symbole is DIVAE MAXIMAE. An Adiunct to signifie thy greatnesse, which in heauen, earth, and hell is formidable.
SCENA. 5. THE MASQVES Ioyne.
Is not that Amorphus the Traueller?
As though it were not? do you not see how his legges are in trauaile with a Measure?
Hedon, thy maister is next.
What will Cupid turne Nomenclator, and cry them?
No faith, but I haue a Comedy toward, that would not be lost for a kingdome.
In good time, for Cupid will prooue the Comedy.
Mercury, I am studying how to match them.
How too mismatch them, were harder.
It is the Nymphes must do it, I shall sport my selfe with their passions aboue measure.
Those Nymphes would be tam'd a little indeed, but I feare thou hast not Arrowes for the purpose.
O yes, here be of all sorts, Flightes, Rouers, and Butshafts. But I can wound with a Brandish, and neuer draw Bow for the matter.
I cannot but beleeue it my inuisible Archer, and yet me thinkes you are tedious.
It behoues me to be somewhat circumspect Mercury, for if Cynthia here the twange of my Bow, sneele go neare to whip me with the string; therefore to preuent that, I thus discharge a Brandish vpon—it makes no matter which of the couples: Phantaste, and Amorphus at you.
Will the shaking of a shaft, strike'hem into such a Feuer of Affection?
As well as the winke of an Eye: but I pray thee hinder me not with thy prattle.
Ioue forbid I hinder thee. Marry all that I feare is Cynthias presence, which with the could of her Chaste [...]y, casteth such an Antiperistasis about the place, that no heate of thine will tarry with the Patient.
It wiltarry the rather, for the Antiperistasis wil keep it in.
I long to see the experiment.
Why their marrow boyles already, or they are all turnd Eunuchs.
Nay and't be so, Ile giue ouerspeaking, & be a Spectator onely.
Cynthia (by my bright soule) is a right exquisite, and spendidious Lady; yet Amorphus I thinke hath seene more fashions, I am sure more Countries; but whether I haue or no: what need we gaze on Cynthia, that haue our selfe to admire?
O excellent Cynthia; yet if Phantaste sat where shee do's, and had such a tyre on her head (for attire can do much) I say no more; but Goddesses are Goddesses, and Phantaste is as she is. I would the R [...]u [...]ls were done once, I might goe to my Schoole of Glasse againe, and learne to do my selfe right after all this Ruffling.
How now Cupid? heer's a wonderfull change with your Brandish? do you not heare, how they doate?
What Prodigie is this? no Word of Loue? no Mention? no Motion?
Not a word my little H [...]ll-fire, not a worde.
Are my Darts enchanted? is their vigor gone? is their vertue—
What? Cupid turn'd iealous of himselfe? ha, ha, ha.
Laughes Mercury?
Is Cupid angry?
Hath he not cause, when his purpose is so deluded?
A rare Comedy, it shall be intitled; Cupids.
Doe not scorne vs Hermes.
Chollar and Cupid are two fiery things; I scorne 'hem not. But I see that come to passe which I presag'd in the beginning.
You cannot tell: perhaps the Phisicke will not worke so soone vpon some, as vpon others. It may be the Rest are not so resty.
Ex vngue, you know the olde Adage; as these, so are the remainder.
Ile trye: this is the same Shafte with which I wounded Argurion.
I, but let me saue you a labour Cupid: there were certaine Bottles of Water fetcht, and drunke off, (since that time,) by these Gallants.
Ioue strike me into earth: The Fountaine of Selfe-loue?
Nay faint not Cupid.
I remembred it not.
Faith it was omenous to take the name of Anteros vpō you, you know not what Charme or Inchantment lyes in the worde: you saw I durst not venter vpon any Deuise in our presentment: but was content to be no other then a simple Page. Your Arrowes properties (to keepe deco [...]um) Cupid, are suted (it should seeme) to the nature of him you personate.
Indignity not to be borne.
Nay rather an attempt to haue bin forborne.
How might I reuenge my selfe on this insulting Mercury? ther's Criticus his Minnion: he has not tasted of this water? it shall be so.
Is Criticus turn'd Dotard on himselfe too?
That followes not, because the venome of your sha [...]ts cannot pierce him.
As though there were one Antidote for these, & another for him?
As though there were not? or as if one Effect might not arise of diuerse causes? what say you to Cynthia, Arete, Phronesis Tim E, and others there?
They are diuine.
And Criticus aspires to be so.
But that shall not serue him.
Tis like to do prettily well at this time. But Cupid is growne too couetous, that will not spare one of a Multitude.
One is more then a Multitude.
Aretes fauour makes any one shot proofe against thee Cupid.
I pray thee light Hony-Bee, remember thou art not now in Adonis garden, but in Cynthias presence, where thornes [...] garrison about the Roses. Soft Cynthia speakes.
Palinodia.
From Spanish shrugs, French faces, Smirks, Irps, and all affected Humors.
Good Mercury defend vs.
From secret friends, sweet Seruants, Loues, Doues, and such Phantastique Humors.
[...]ood Mercury defend vs.
From stabbing of Armes, Flap-dragons, Healths, Whiffes, and all such swaggering Humors.
Good Mercurie defend vs.
From wauing of Fannes, coy Glaunces, Glicks, Cringes, and all such simpring Humors.
Good Mercury defend vs.
From making loue by Attourney, courting of Pupp [...]ts, and paying for new acquaintance.
Good Mercury defend vs.
From perfum'd Dogs, Monkeys, Sparrowes, Dildos, and Parachitos.
Good Mercury defend vs.
From wearing Bracelets of Hayre, Shoo-tyes, Gloues, Garters, and Rings with Poesies.
Good Mercury defend vs.
From Pargetting, Painting, Slieking, Glazing, and Renewing old riueld Faces.
Good Mercury defend vs.
From Squiring to Tilt-yards, Play-Houses, Pageants, and all such Publique places.
Good Mercury defend vs.
From entertaining one Gallant to gull another, and making Fooles of eyther.
Good Mercury defend vs.
From Belying Ladyes fauors, Noble-mens countenance, coyning counterfet Imployments, vain-glorious taking to them other mens Seruices, and all selfe-louing Humors.
Good Mercury defend vs.