Thomas Duffett [1675], The Mock-tempest: or the Enchanted Castle. Acted at the Theatre Royal. Written By T. Duffett (Printed for William Cademan [etc.], London) [word count] [S36900].
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[THE MOCK-TEMPEST]
note
Introductory matter
THE INTRODUCTION, Spoken by Mr. Hains, and Mrs. Mackarel.
Mr. Hains Enters alone.
You are of late become so mutinous,
Y'ave forc'd a reverend Bard to quit our House.
Since y'are so soon misled to ruin us,
I'le call a Spirit forth that shall declare,
What all your tricks and secret Virtues are.
What? ho Ariel!
Enter Betty Mackarel.
Here's Betty—Now rail if you dare:
Speak to 'em Betty—ha! asham'd, alass poor Girl,
Whisper me!—Oh I'le tell 'em—Gentlemen! she says,
Y'are grown so wild she could not stay among ye,
And yet her tender heart is loath to wrong ye.
Spare 'em not,
Whom kindness cannot stir, but stripes may move.
Bet.
O Mr. Hains! I've often felt their Love.
Ha.
Poh, felt a Pudding that has taken vent,
Their love cools faster, and as soon is spent.
Think of thy high calling Betty, now th'art here,
They gaze and wish, but cannot reach thy Sphere,
Though ev'ry one could squeeze thy Orange there.
Bet.
Why this to me, Mr. Haines (d'ee conceive me) why to me?
Ha.
Ay, why this to Betty?
-- --
O Virtue, Virtue! vainly art thou sought,
If such as Betty must be counted naught:
Examine your Consciences Gentlemen!
When urg'd with heat of love, and hotter Wine,
How have you begg'd, to gain your lewd design:
Betty, dear, dear, dear Betty,
I'le spend five Guinnyes on thee, if thou'lst go:
And then they shake their (d'ee concieve me) Betty is't not
so, their yellow Boyes.
Bet.
Fie Mr. Hains, y'are very rude (d'ee concieve me.)
Ha.
Then speak yourself.
Bet.
Gentlemen! you know what I know.
If y'are severe, all shall out by this light:
But if you will be kind, I'le still be right
Ha
So that's well.—make thy Cursy Betty.
Now go in Child, I have something to say to these Gentlemen in private.
[Exit Betty.
-- --
PROLOGUE. Spoken by Mr. Hains.
Since Heroes Ghosts, and Gods have felt your spight:
Your She Familiars, and your dear delight;
The Devils shall try their power, w'ee to night:
Some do believe that Devils ne'r have been,
Because they think, none can be worse then them:
But Female Sprights by all are felt and seen.
You see our Study is to please you all:
Lets not by stiff Tom Thimbles faction fall;
Whose censures are meer ign'rance in disguise,
The noyse of envious fools, that would seem wise.
If Bacons Brazen-head cry—that won't pass,
Strayt all the little Fops are turn'd to brass,
And Eccho to the braying of that Ass:
Although we take their shapes and sensless sounds,
Lets not be worryd by our own dull Hounds:
Let not their noyse that got your Money there,
Deprave your Judgments, and your pleasure here.
Ye men of Sense and Wit, resume your Raign.
Th'are honour'd who by noble Foes are slain;
Such comforts wounded Lovers have who swear,
When their tormenting pains are most severe,
Dam'ee!
It does not vex me to be Clapp'd by her:
Gad she was handsome, though the sport is dear.
But who in your sight at their mercy lyes,
Much like an Eastern Malefactor dyes,
Expos'd i'th' Sun to be devour'd by flyes.
Let Language, Wit and Plot, this Night be safe,
For all our business is to make you laugh.
-- --
Persons Represented.
Prospero a Duke, Head-keeper of the Enchanted Castle.
Alonzo [Alonso] a Duke, his mortal Enemy.
Quakero Son of Alonzo.
Gonzalo a Subject of Alonzos.
Antonio his Friend.
Hypolito Infant Duke of Mantua, Innocent and ignorant
Hectorio a Pimp.
Miranda the harmless daughter of Prospero.
Dorinda the harmless daughter of Prospero.
Stephania a Baud.
Beantosser Wench.
Moustrappa Wench.
Drinkallup Wench.
Ariel a Spirit waiting on Prospero.
A Plenipotentiary.
Wenches, Bridewell-Keepers, Spirits, Devils, Masquers, and Prisners
[Devil], [Pride], [Fraud], [Rapine], [Murther], [Devil 1], [Devil 2], [Devil 3], [Devil 4], [Chorus] [Sycorax], [Caliban], [Pimp], [Bawd], [Rabble], [Head Keeper]
The Scene in LONDON.
ERRATA.
P. 1. for breaking r. beating Doors. P. 6. l. 21. for oft r. aft. P. 10. l. 23. for black r. back. P. 12. l. ult. for it r. spit. P. 32. l. 2. for gall'd r. gally'd. l. 8. for Gentleman r. Gentlewoman. P. 49. l. 23. for puts r. puffs. P. 50. l. 33. after Trapstick add Alonz. By thy stealers and Pickers. P. 53. l. 18. for Face r. Lace.
-- 1 --
THE New TEMPEST OR THE Enchanted Castle.
ACT 1.
SCENE 1.
A great noyse heard of breaking note Doors, and breaking Windowes, crying a Whore, a Whore, &c.
Enter Beantosser, and Moustrappa.
Bean.
What a noyse they make!
Mous.
A roaring noyse, we shall have foul weather.
Enter Drinkallup.
Drink.
The Dogs have us in the Wind, 'twill go hard.
[Exeunt Beant. and Mous.]
Enter Stephania.
Stepha.
Hectorio! Hectorio!
All.
Hectorio! Hectorio! Hectorio!
Enter Hectorio.
Hect.
Here here Mother, what cheer, what cheer.
Stepha.
Never worse, never worse, barr up the Doors, barr up
the Doors: Oh! Oh!
[She whistles, Wenches run on and off again.]
-- 2 --
Enter Moustrappa.
All.
Barr up the Doors, barr up the Doors.
Mous.
Let's make all fast enough, and let'm roar the Devils head off.
Steph.
Beantosser, Beantosser.
All.
Beantosser, Beantosser, Beantosser.
Steph.
Why where is this damn'd deaf flunder mouth'd
drab?
Enter Beantosser.
Bean.
Here here, a pox o' these full mouth'd Fox hounds.
Hect.
They hunt devilish hard, I'me affrai'd they'l earth us.
Steph.
Give Hectorio a dram of the Bottle, the Whey-Blooded
Rogue looks as if his heart were melted into his Breeches.
[Exeunt Beantossor and Hectorio.]
[Enter Wenches arm'd with Spitts, Forks, Tongs, Chamber-Potts, &c. they pass over the stage.]
Steph.
Beat up, bear up my brave Amazons, y'ave born Ten
times as many men in your times heigh my Girles, stand fast my
stout bona Roba's, run, fly, work nimbly, nimbly ye Queans, or all's
lost.
[Exeunt all]
[A great noyse again.]
Enter Hectorio, Alonzo, Gonzalox, Quakero.
Alon.
Good friend, stand to thy tackling, and play the Man:
where's Mother Stephania.
Hect.
Pry'thee old Goat tye up thy Clack, and move thy hands.
Quak.
Friend, friend, look thee, bridle thy unruly member—to
wit, thy tongue.
Hect.
Work, work, my hearts of Gold.
Quak.
Ha, ha, ha, my Father to whom thou spakest so unadvisedly
is Duke of that building which do-eth sustain my Lord Mayors
Cattle, Vidicilet, his Doggs.
Hect.
Fill the sweating Tub with Stones, and set it against the
Door, quick, quick.
Within
—The Sweating Tub, the Sweating Tub! Stones,
Stones!
Quak.
He is moreover perpetual Whissler to the Worshipful
company of Pin-makers, as I my self am.
Hect.
Confound thy Father and thy self.
[A noyse within.]
What care these Roarers for the worshipful Pin-makers.?
-- 3 --
Silence, and to work, or I'le ram thee into a Chamber-pot, and throw
thee out at Window.
[Exeunt all.]
Enter Steph. Bean. Mous. and Drink.
Steph.
Stir, Wenches, stir, bring out all the Jourdans full of Water.
All.
The Jourdans, the Jourdans, &c.
Bean. Drink. and Mous. run off several wayes crying the Jourdans.
[A great noyse within, all crying a Whore, a Whore, a Whore, &c.]
Steph.
Send a Legion of Devils down their yelling throats to
pluck their lungs out.—Out ye bauling Curs, ye ill-bred hounds,
here are Whores enough for you all, All, if you would behave
your selves like civil Gentlemen, and come one after another.
She Whistles, Enter Wenches.
Down, down, down to the Sellar Windows.—
All.
The Sellar Windows, the Sellar Windows.
[The Wenches run down the Trap Door.]
Enter Bean. Mous. and Drink. hastily one after another.
Bean.
Undone, undone, not one drop of Water in the house.
Mous.
With hard labour all their moisture turns into sweat.
Drink.
Th'are dryer then hung Beef, and almost as black too.
Bean.
Your advice, your advice Mother.
Drink.
Dispatch, or w'are ruin'd.—
Steph.
Get up in the Windows, you musty Queens, make water in
their Eyes, and burn e'm out, I'me sure y'are hot enough.—
Enter Hectorio.
Hect.
Turn out, turn out all hands to the Back-door: is this a
time to prate ye spurr-gald jades, ye over-rid Hackneys.
Mous.
O you huffing Son of a Whore.
Drink.
You rotten Jack in a box.
Bean.
You foul mouth'd Nickumpoop.
Hect.
Prate on, prate on, d'ee hear how it Thunders?—stand
still and be damn'd, I'le shift well enough for one.
[The noyse renew'd.]
[Exit Hectorio.]
Steph.
Turn out, turn out Seditious mutiners, ye or I'le have
ye all flead—Out, out!
[Exeunt Bean. Mous. and Drink.]
Enter Gonz. Alon. and Quak.
Gonz.
More noyse and terrour then a Tempest at Sea.
-- 4 --
Enter Beantosser.
Bean.
The green Chamber, the green Chamber.
[Stephania whistles, the Wenches come up from the Trapp-door.]
Steph.
Aloft, aloft, to the green Chamber, all to the green
Chamber—Aloft, aloft.—
[Exeunt Beant. and Wenches.]
Alon.
My Honour, my Reputation.—
Quak.
Yea! Reputation, Reputation!—Woo man, ah! ha!
Steph.
Reputation! ye crop-ear'd whelps, Reputation! is not my
Reputation dearer to me then your lives, and Souls? Down with the
Close stool upon their heads.
You louzy farandinical Sots, Reputation! I have had Lords—Lords!
thou whey-bearded Ananias, and then I had a blessing on my endeavours;
but this is justly fall'n upon me, for dealing with such zealous
Whore-masters, thru-gutted 3d. Customers—Out of my
sight, and to work, or by the beards of my renowned Predecessors
I'le have you hung out like Wool-sacks to defend my Walls. See if
thou canst preach the Rabble to Silence, thou canting Hypocritical
Abednego.
Quak.
Yea, thou babylonish Whore in grain, thou Harlot of
a London dye, thou shalt see the strength of the power of a
um—Thou shalt see, I say, look ye Friends, Brethren and Sisters
—Give heedful attention, and a, and I say a um—
[A shout within, and dirt thrown in his mouth.]
[Exeunt all.]
Enter again Steph. and Bean.
Bean.
We are gone, we are gone, th'are all broke in the Closet
Window,
Enter Hectorio.
Hect.
Hell, and Devils, th'are untiling of the House.
Enter Wenches.
Steph.
Let off the Bottles of Stepony, they may think th'are Guns.
Bean.
Clap up the middle hatch with the Iron spikes.
Hect.
Take down the false Stairs.
Enter Moustrappa.
Mous.
Open the Trap-door, that falls into the Common-shoar.
Enter Drinkallup.
Drink.
Hang up the tenter Hooks.—
Steph.
Set the great Chest against the stair Door.
[Stephania Whistles, Enter Wenches.]
-- 5 --
All.
To the great Chest, the great Chest.
[Exeunt all but Stephania.]
Hect. within
Heave all together, heave Cats, heave.
Heave Cats, heave—cheerily, cheerily.
Enter Alonzo. Gonz and Quak.
Alon. Gonz. Quak.
—Murther, murther, murther.
Steph.
Oh, you obstreperous Woolves, a Rot consume your
Windpipes, y'are louder then the rabble.
Alon.
O, this base, this cursed business!
Steph.
Cursed bus'ness, thou invincible Fop, thou Brazen headed
Ignoramus—Hast thou a mind to be limb'd? one word more, and
all the Doors shall fly open: Cursed bus'ness, with a pox to ye.
[She whistles.]
Enter Wenches—And go off again.
Come tag-rag and long-tail, Old Satin, Taffaty, and Velvet, rouze
about, charge 'em briskly, showr the Coals on their pates.—He
calls Wenching, base cursed bus'ness—Oh you rake Hells, sons of
unknown Fathers.
Enter Beantosser.
Bean.
Hell take 'em, they clime the Walls like Cats.
Steph.
Down with the Tables and Stools upon 'em.
[Exit Bean.]
[The noyse renew'd]
Enter Hectorio.
Hect.
Sound a Parle, sound a Parle, or they'l break in upon
us—There's no hope left.
Steph.
A Parle, thou impudent miscreant! false hearted Caytiff
I'le rather like a noble Roman Virago, make my House my Funeral
pile.
Hect.
All are resolv'd not to fight a stroak more, sound a Parle but
to gain time.
Steph.
To delude the Foe I consent, but never to yield.
[She whistles.]
Enter Drink. Bean. and Mous.
Sound a Parle, and hang out the White Flag.
[A Horn sounds within, and one passes over the Stage with a Flannel Peticoat on a Stick: another Horn sounded on the other side.]
Hect.
Hark, they answer us.
-- 6 --
Steph.
Go you Drinkallup, and see what they will demand.
[Exit Drink. and returns immediately]
Drink.
Here's a Plenipotentiary desires admittance.
Steph.
Let him be blinded, and introduc'd by the Postern
—Casement—Come fellow Souldiers, lets sit in State, and
receive him with undaunted Countenances, as blustring Warriours
do, though we are like to dye for fear.
A Guard of Wenches Enter.
Master of our Ceremonies, introduce the Plenepotentiary.
[A dirty fellow led in between two Wenches.]
Steph.
Fellow Souldiers 'tis a Maxim in Warr to treat with our
Arms in our hands—(Guard, deliver us your Weapons)—and
while we talke of peace to prepare for a Battle; therefore Guard go
you and mend the backs of the Chairs.
[Exeunt Guard.]
Plenipotentiary, be not dismaid with the glittering Splendour of
our Court, but boldly deliver what thou hast in Charge.—
Plen.
My Master, the many-headed-monster-Multitude, to save the
great effusion of Christian Chamberly, will grant you peace on these
terms.
Steph.
Say on.
Plen.
First, they demand the Dominion of the Straights mouth, and
all the Mediterranean Sea—That every Frigot, Fireship, you
have, shall strike, furle up their sail, and lye by to the least of their
Cock-boats, where-ever they meet, and receive a man aboard to
search for prohibited Goods, and permit him to romage fore and oft note
without resistance.—
Stepha.
Umph.—My friends, this is very hard.
Plen.
Secondly, That all their Vessels shall have and enjoy a free-trade
into and out of all your Ports without paying any Custom.—
Steph.
The duties of Importation are my greatest Revenue, and
must not be parted with.
Bean.
But though your People pay for import, we will engage to
pay them at going off.
Mous.
As we have always done heretofore.
Plen.
Lastly, That you re-imburse the charge of the War, pay
for the Cure of the wounded, and the recov'ry of those that have
surfeited on your rotten Ling and Poys'nous Oyl, and allow Pensions
-- 7 --
for those that are dismembered—What say ye, Peace, or
War?
Steph.
War.
All.
War, War, War.
Steph.
Return for answer, that we will rather dye at their Feet,
then submit to such dishonourable Conditions:—Begon:—And
so she pray'd me to tell ye.
Plen.
Though you refuse peace, I scorn to carry back my present,
—there.
[Throwes out a bunch of Carrets.]
Drink.
We scorn their Courtesies, and their dry toyes.
Plen.
Are ye so fierce? if the Seige continue, you'l Petition for 'em:
look for Fire and Sword—And so she pray'd me to tell you.
[Exit Plen.]
Steph.
Arm, Arm, give the word, Arm, Arm.
All.
Arm, Arm.
Within.
Arm, Arm, Arm,
[Exeunt All.]
[The noyse of the assault renew'd.]
Enter Steph. Bean. and Mous.
Steph.
Many a brush have I gon through in my time, but never was
any so sharp.
Enter Hectorio.
Hect.
S'death, our Ammunition's spent, the dear dear dyet-drink's
gone.
Steph.
And yet these Canibals, more insatiate then the Sea, are
not satisfi'd with our best goods; pull up the Harths, and down with
the Chimnies.
Exeunt Bean. and Mous.
Hect.
'Tis in vain to strive.
Steph.
Thou Cow-hearted cormorant, shall we be all lost for
thee?
Hect.
No, 'tis for thy obstinacy, thou insatiable shee-Woolf.
Steph.
Rot your Sheeps blood.
Hect.
Confound your brutish heart and bacon, face.
Steph.
Nounz, stir about, or I'le beat thy brains out with my
Bottle.
Hect.
One word more, and by the Lord, Harry.
Steph.
Thou dar'st not for thy Blood, thou dar'st not.
[She Whistles,]
-- 8 --
Enter all the Wenches.
Steph.
For shame let not the Army see our difference, or thy
Cowardise.—
Hect.
Pull down the House, and bury them in the Ruines: come
along boldly, my dear hearts, follow me, I shall find a time.—
[Exeunt Wenches.]
[Exit Hectorio.]
Steph.
To be hang'd—I don't doubt it.
Enter Beantosser.
Bean.
O save the Syring and the Pot of Turpentine-pills for my
sake.—
[Exit Bean.]
Steph.
Save nothing, cut off your Leggs and throw at 'em. Out
with the Exchange Womans Trunk of Perfum'd Linnen which the
Old Knight us'd to play hey Gamer Cook in—Out, out; save
nothing.
[Exit Steph.]
Enter Hectorio, and Moustrappa
Hect.
Fill the old Justices greazy Night-Cap with the Rosary of
Beads the Fryer pawn'd here but last Night, and down with 'em.
Mous.
I wish they were all Cannon-bullets for their sakes.
[Exit Hectorio]
Enter Stephania, hastily.
Steph.
Hold, hold, if you throw out the Beads, they'l take us for
Papishes, and then there's no Mercy; otherwise we may still hope
for pity because we are all of one Religion.
Enter Hectorio.
Hect.
Set the Led Cistern against the Door; all hands to the Cistern,
to the Cistern.
[Steph. whistles]
Enter all the Wenches.
Steph.
My Girles, my Daughters.
Hect.
Fellow Souldiers, dear hearts now for the last push.
Steph.
All hands to the Cistern, away.—
[Exeunt all.]
Enter all pulling at a Rope.
Hect.
Hoa up; hoa up; cheerily, cheerily, pluck all together.—
All.
Hoa up! hoa up! hoa up!
Enter Steph. whistling.
Steph.
Down, down, all hands down, th'are going to spring
a Mine.
[All run down]
Enter Beantosser, and Moustrappa.
Bean.
There's a fresh Brigade of sturdy Blood-hounds come from
the Butcher-row.
-- 9 --
Mous.
The Barr of the Door's broke.—
[Exeunt Bean. and Mous.]
Steph.
Barr it with the Constables staffe that lay here last
Night.
Enter Drinkallup.
Drink.
O Mother, save yourself, save your self.
Steph.
Must our mouths be cold then?
[She whistles.]
Enter Hectorio.
Hect.
All's lost, all's lost.—
[Exit Drink.]
Enter Bean. and Mous.
Bean.
They break in like a full Sea upon us.
Mous.
O Mother, Mother, shift for your self.
Steph.
Name not me: the Justices, and Jaylors, are my very good
Friends, and Customers.
All.
Ah, there's no trust to Friends now.
Steph.
If I dye, I dye, but I pity your tender backs, and
grieve for the present want all these young Gallants will have of
so many excellent Beauties.
[Exeunt Hect. Bean. Mous. and Drink. and return presently.]
Hect.
Yet, yet, you may 'scape perhaps.
Bean.
The poor hearts fight as if they were all Scanderbegs.]
Mous.
Yet, shift Mother in two minutes, 'twill be too late.
Steph.
No, here will I stay, and like a Phænix, perish in my Nest,
the Fates so Decree.
Bean.
Then let's among 'em, and dye all together, or break
through.—
All.
Agreed, agreed.
[Exeunt all.]
A great noyse of fighting, crying Fire, Murther, &c. The Rabble, and Wenches enter fighting. It Rains Fire, Apples, Nuts.—A Constable and Watch enter, and drive all off.
Act. I.
Scene II.
[The Scene chang'd to Bridewell.]
Enter Prospero, and Miranda.
Pros.
Miranda, where's your Sister?
Mir.
I left on the Dust-Cart-top, gaping after
the huge noyse that went by.—
Pros.
It was a dreadful show.
-- 10 --
Mir.
Oh woe, and alass, ho, ho, ho! I'm glad I did not see it
though.
Pros.
Hold in thy breath, and tell thy Vertuous Body, there's no
harme down, th'are all reserv'd for thine, and thy Sister Dorindas
private use.
Mir.
And shall we have 'em all, a-ha! that will be fine i'fads;
but if you don't keep'em close, pray Father, we shall never have 'em
long to our selves pray; for now ev'ry Gentlewoman runs huckstring
to Market, the youth are bought up so fast, that poor Publicans
are allmost starv'd, so they are so.
Pros.
Leave that to my Fatherly Care.
Mir.
And shall we have 'em all, ha, ha, he! O good dear hau,
how the Citizens Wives will curse us.—
Pros.
Miranda, you must now leave this Tom-rigging, and learn
to behave your self with a grandeur and state, befitting your illustrious
Birth and Quality.—Thy Father, Miranda, was 50 years
ago a man of great power, Duke of my Lord Mayors Dogg-kennel.—
Mir.
O lo, why Father, Father, are not I Miranda Whiffe, sooth,
and arn't you Prospero Whiffe, sooth, Keeper of Bridewell, my
Father?
Pros.
Thy Mother was all Mettle.—As true as Steel, as right's
my Legg, and she said thou wert my Daughter; canst thou remember
when thou wert Born, sure thou canst not, for then thou wert
but three days old.
Mir.
I'fads, I do remember it Father, as well as 'twere but yesterday.
Pros.
Then scratch thy tenacious Poll, and tell me what thou
findest backward in the misty black note and bottomless Pit of time.
Mir.
Pray Father had I not Four, or Five Women waiting upon
top of me, at my Mothers groaning, pray?
Pros.
Thou hadst, and more Miranda, for then I had a Tub of
humming stuff would make a Cat speak.
Mir.
O Gemine! Father how came we hither?
Pros.
While I despising mean, and worldly bus'ness, as mis-becoming
my grave Place, Quality, did for the bett'ring of my mind,
apply myself, to the secret and laudable study of Nine-pins, Shovel-board
and Pigeon-holes—do'st thou give ear Infant?
-- 11 --
Mir.
I do, most Prudent Sir.
Pros.
My Brother, to whom I left the manage of my weighty
state, having learn'd the mysterious Craft of coupling Doggs, and
of untying them; and by strict Observation of their jilting carriage,
found the time when Venus, Countess, Lady, Beauty, and the rest
of my she subjects, were to be oblig'd, by full allowance of their
sports, soon grew too Popular, stole the hearts of my currish
Vassals, and so became the Ivy-leaf, which cover'd my Princely
Issue, and suck'd out all my Juice. Dost observe me Child?
Mir.
Yes, forsooth Father, this story would cure Kib'd-heels.
Pros.
This Miscreant, so dry he was for sway, betray'd me to
Alonzo, Duke of Newgate; and in a stormy and dreadfull Night
open'd my Kenell Gates, and forc'd me thence with thy young
Sister, and thy howling self.
Mir.
Father! did they kill us then, pray Father?
Pros.
Near the Kenell they dar'd not for the love my dogged
Subject bore me.—In short to Newgate we were carry'd,
—And thence all in a Cart, without a cov'ring, or a Pad of
Straw, to Hyde Park-corner, we were hurri'd there on the stubbed
Carkase of a Leafeless Tree, they hoysted us aloft to pipe to winds,
whose murm'ring pity whistling back again, did seem to show us
cursed kindness.
Mir.
O poor Father!—But whereof, how did we 'scape
Father?
Pros.
Some Friends we had, and some Money, which gaind the
assistance, of a great man called Gregoria Dunn, appointed
master of that black design: now luck begins to turn.—But ask no
more; I see thou grow'st pinck-ey'd, go in, and let the Nurse lay
thee to sleep.
Mir.
And shall she give me some Bread and Butter, Father.
Pros.
Ay, my Child,—Go in.—[Exit Miranda.] So she's
fast.—Ariel, what ho my Ariel?
Enter Ariel flying down.
Ari.
Hayl most potent Master, I come to serve thy pleasure
Be it to lye, swear, steal, pick pockets, or cerep in at Windows—
Pros.
How didst thou perform the last task I set the?
Ari.
I gather'd the Rabble together, show'd them the Bawdy
House, told e'm they us'd to kill Prentices, and make mutton pyes
-- 12 --
of 'em—I led them to the Windows, Doors, backward, forward,
now to the sellar, now to the House top—Then I ran and call'd
the Constable, who came just as the Rabble broke in, and the defendants
were leaping from the Balcony, like Saylers from a sinking
Ship. The Duke and his Trayn I clap'd into a Coach.
Pros.
Are they all taken and safe?
Ari.
All safe in several parts of this thy enchanted Castle of Bridewel,
and not a hair of 'em lost.
Pros.
Twas bravely done my Ariel! Whats a Clock?
Ari.
Great Tom already has struck ten:
Now blest are Women that have men,
To tell fine tale, and warm cold feet,
While lonely lass lyes gnawing sheet.
Pros.
We have much to do e're morning come: follow me, I'le instruct
thee within.
Before the gorgeous Sun upon House top doth Sneer,
The Laud knows what is to be done, the Laud knows where.
[Exeunt.
The End of the First Act.
Act II.
Scene. I.
Enter Miranda and Dorinda.
Dor.
Oh Sister sister, what have I seen pray?
Mir.
Some rare sight I warrant.
Dor.
From yonder dust-cart-top, as I star'd upon the noyse, I
thought it had been fighting, but at last I saw a huge Creature, for
ought I know.
Mir.
O whereof you mean the Coach.
Dor.
Coach! i'fads, I thought it had been a Fish, I'm sure it was
alive, and it ran roaring along, and all the People ran away from it
for fear it should eat 'em.
Mir.
O lo, O lo Sister, O lo!—ha ha he—
Dor.
Why d'ee laugh at one Sister, indeed it had eaten men, for
just by our gate it stood still and open'd a great Mouth in the belly
of it, note and it 'em out all whole:
-- 13 --
Mir.
Oh but Sister, whereof I can tell you news pray, my Father
told me in that Creature was that thing call'd Husband, and we
should see it shortly and have it pray, in a Civil way.
Dor.
Husband, what's that?
Mir.
Why that's a thing like a man (for ought I know) with a
great pair of Hornes upon his head, and my father said 'twas made
for Women, look ye.
Dor.
What must we ride to water upon't, sister?
Mir.
No, no, it must be our slave, and give as Golden Cloaths
Pray, that other men may lye with us in a Civil way, and then it
must Father our Children and keep them.
Dor.
And when we are so Old and Ugly, that no body else will
lye with us, must it lye with us it self?
Mir.
Ay that it must Sister.
Dor.
You see my Father gets men to lye with us, is not he a Husband
then?
Mir.
No, you see he has no Hornes.
Dor.
May be he sheds 'em like a Buck, or puts 'em in his pocket
like a rich Citizen, because he won't lye with us himself when he can
get no body else.
Mir.
Fie Sister; no! Fathers and Mothers are kinder and wiser
now then they were heretofore look ye; for when they see their
Daughters will be modish and kind, they provide 'em Gallants themselves
to lye with them.
Dor.
But if we must take those our careful Parents get, only for
profit, 'tis as bad as marrying.
Mir.
They doe it only 'till they get us Husbands to ease them of
the trouble.
Dor.
O whereof Sister, my Father may spare himself of that trouble,
for I am old enough to shift for myself in a civil way, for I was 13.
last quarter sessions, ay and wise enough too.
Mir.
So we all think i'vads, but they can get us Coaches and settlements,
whereof if we were left to our selves, we should creep
into holes, and yet nothing but Bastards.
Dor.
If our fathers don't get us Husbands quickly, wee'l make
him lye with us himself, shall we sister?
Mir.
Ay ay, that we will, but lets goe in now, He's about something
I long to see the end of, come lets not despair, the flesh is
strong.
-- 14 --
Dor.
O for a Husband Sister how I long.
[Exeunt Miranda and Dorinda.
Act. II.
Scene. II.
Enter Alonzo, and Gonzalo affrighted.
Alon.
Gonzalo Oh—my lodging is inchanted.
Gon.
Mine with a Devil and like your Grace is haunted,
Which plays more tricks then e're the witch my Aunt did.
Alon.
First doleful groans at both my ears were lugging.
Then whistling voyce like wind in empty muggin.
Gon.
Shrieks as of switcheld lass I heard, and anon
Sighs of enchanted ghost like roaring Canon.
Alon.
VVith Princely hoof I knock'd, and noyse did follow,
By which I find O, Heavens! the House is hollow,
My bed of state—
Gon.
Of straw you mean—now good my Lord doe not lye.
Alon.
Millions of devils mov'd, black, white, and motley,
Six legs a piece, sharp claws.
Gon.
Aye mine were so Sir,
Each tooth a needle, and each eye a saucer,
They stole my shooes, and in a hole I found 'em.
The white possest, black Armies did surround 'em,
Feircely the black attaqu'd, and white defended,
Horrour and death in ev'ry Seam attended.
The nimble black like hopping Devils ventur'd,
Mounted the works, and on the half moon enter'd.
But here the white serty'd as thick as sawdust,
And beat them off.
Then march'd up the red listed Reformadoes,
But what they did I dare not tell for fear.
Alon.
Sage matrons say, where such kind Foes appear,
The Lord o'th' pasture shall not dye that year.
Gon.
Unless he's eaten out—
Alon.
On large deal board by prudent vermine chosen,
Two Armies more were fighting for my hosen.
If I but offer composition for my sock,
-- 15 --
All leave the field, and to my Carkass flock.
No Fairy pinches half so close, nor no Witch.
Gon.
'Tis worse then nettle, sting of Wasp, or Cowitch.
[Alonzo pulls a Louse out of his neck
Alon.
Treason treason, O here's one of the white devils, treason
treason, my guard my guard, Oh ho hoe.
Fortune has cheated me of all, pize on her,
I am no Duke now, but a poor Prisoner.
[A noyse of horrid Instruments.
Gon.
Oh what horrid noyse is this assaults our ears.
Devils rise and Sing.
1 De.
Where be those boyes,
That make such a noyse,
And won't eat their bread and butter?
2 De.
Without all doubt.
Th' are hereabout,
Wee'l teach 'em to make such a Clutter.
3 De.
Who are the ring-leaders, who rules the Roast?
4 De.
Alonzo the Duke, and another old Toast.
1 De.
Wee'l put water in their porridge,
And straw in their beds,
2 De.
Shooes on their feet, and a Comb in their heads.
Chorus.
Wee'l put &c.
And straw &c.
Shooes &c.
Alon.
O save me, save me, Gonzalo
Gon.
I would give him the best member I have, to save my self.
Alon.
These great He Devils will hearken to no such Composition.
The Devils Sing again.
1 De.
Rogues that from their Liquor shrink,
Shall scorch to death for want of drink.
-- 16 --
2 Dev.
And who with false glass good fellows betray,
3 Dev.
And tipple small beer in stead of their wine,
4 Dev.
Then bubble their poor weak brothers at play,
To the whip and the stocks wee'l confine.
1 Dev.
So poor, so poor, they still shall remain;
Mirth, or good Wine, they shall ne'r have again,
Nor never, oh never, be eas'd of their pain.
Chorus.
So poor, &c.—
Mirth &lblank;
Nor never &lblank;
Gonz.
Never, oh never, eat Custard again!
Oh murthering Sentence—Oh, ho, ho!
Alonz.
Never, never—O Inhumane Correction!
Oh, they begin again—Oh.—
The Devils Sing.
1 Dev.
Who are the pillars of the wenching Trade?
2 Dev.
The zealous professor, and brisk City blade.
3 Dev.
The Gallants, and Bullies,
Do often grow poor, and bare, and bare.
4 Dev.
But these Canters, and close City Cullies
Are ne'r without Money, or Ware.
1 Dev.
What Slave permits
Such Hypocrites
In peace to tast of all our sweets?
2 Dev.
In the midst of their joyes, they discoveries fear,
3 Dev.
And their Wives, if th'ave any, shall make the score clear.
4 Dev.
With Claps, and with Duns, we torment them all day,
And at night we take them and their Doxies away.
Chorus.
With Claps &c.—
And at night &c.—
Alon.
Pox o'the Devil, 'tis too true, they did take our Doxies
away.
Gon.
Ay, and I would procure 'em a whole Regiment, for my
Ransome.
-- 17 --
Alon.
Alass, they were but Oysters before their meale; besides
they were so rotten, they would melt in their mouthes, all their
bones were turn'd to gristle: We are kep'd for the standing Dish.
Gon.
Nay, then I am safe enough, for I have no more standing
Dish, then a post, my hearts no bigger then a Pins-head.
Alon.
My poore Boy Quakero's, gone too, Oh, ho, ho!
The Devils Sing.
1 Dev.
Say, say,
Shall we take up these Rogues, and Carry them away,
With a tory, rory, Tory, rory, rory, Red-Coats?
2 Dev.
Aye, aye.
3 Dev.
Aye, aye.
4 Dev.
Aye, aye.
1 Dev.
Aye, aye.
Chorus.
With a Tory, rory, Tory, rory, rory, rory.
2 Dev.
No, No,
'Till we show them their Crimes, let e'm stay.
With a Tory, rory, Tory, rory, rantum, scantum.
3 Dev.
Let 'em stay.
4 Dev.
Let 'em stay.
1 Dev.
Let 'em stay.
2 Dev.
Let 'em stay.
Chorus.
With a Tory, rory, Tory, rory, rory, rory.
1 Dev.
Cabbage is windy, and Mustard is strong,
But a Lass with a wide Mouth, and a liquorish Tongue.
Will give thee the Palsie, though never so young.
Then first let their Pride, let their Pride come along.
Chorus.
Cabbage. &lblank;
But a Lass &lblank;
Will give &lblank;
Then first &lblank;
Enter Pride, represented by a Painted, gaudy Woman, with a Glass in her hand.
-- 18 --
She Sings.
Pride.
Lo here, here is Pride, that first lest them aside,
An honest true Trojan, and then she dy'd.
Enter Fraud, a female Quaker Sings.
Fraud.
With upright look, and speech sincere,
In publick, I a Saint appear.
But in private I put out the light,
And I serve for a Whore, or a Baud.
I have taught them to cheat, Swear, and Fight,
For by Yea, and by Nay, I am Fraud.
Enter Rapine, drest like a Padder, with a Pistole in his hand.
Sings.
Rapine.
Send out a Scout
To yonder Hill.
Stand, and deliver.
You dogg, must I wait.
I'm thy fate:
Dispatch, or I'l send thee to Hell.
From Fraud, they thus proceed to force.
And then I Rapine, guide their Course.
Enter Murther.
A man drest all in Red, with two Bloody Daggers in his hands, and his Face and Hands stain'd with blood.
Sings.
Murther.
Wake Duncan! would thou couldst.
Disguis'd with blood, I lead them on,
Until to Murther they arrive.
Then to the Gallows they run.
Needs must they go, whom the Devils drive.
1 Devil Sings.
Alass poor Mortals.
They gape like the Earth, in the Dogg-dayes.
What a rare life the Frogg has?
Drawer, Drawer.
2 Dev.
Anon, Anon.
-- 19 --
1 Dev.
Give 'em drink, or they'r gone,
E'r their torment's began.
Pour, pour, pour, pour.
Heark, heark, how it hisses,
See, see, how it smoaks:
Who refuses such Liquor as this is,
May he pine, may he pine, may he pine
'Till he choakes.
Chorus.
Heark, &c.
The Devils sing, and Dance round Alonzo, and Gonzalo.
Chorus.
Around, around.
Around, around, around.
Let's sing, and tear the ground,
There's no such sport below,
Where sinfull mortals go.
[Exeunt all the Devils.]
Gonz.
Oh, oh, are you alive my Lord Duke.
Alon.
I cannot tell, Ah, ha,—Feel me, feel me, what a
drench they gave us, sure 'twas Spirit of Brimstone.—I am all in a
flame.
Gonz.
Their design, is to roast us as some do Geese, by putting a
hot Iron in their bellies, I begin to drip, they may make a Sop in
the Pan already.
Alon.
Anon they'l cut off slivers from us, as they did from the
whole Ox, in St. James's Fair.
Gonz.
Oh, 'tis intollerable: methinks I hear a great she Devil, call for
Groats worth of the Crispe of my Countenance.—They are all
for Gristle.
Alon.
Another cries Six-peny-worth of the brown, with Gravy, Shalot,
and Pepper, Oh there's a Collop gone!
Gon.
Shalot, and Pepper, was well though of, for if I am not well
season'd, there's no eating of me.
Alon.
Indeed old Lord, you have a kind of Ven'zon haugou.
Gon.
How can it be otherwise, my Lord, when I'me roasted
with the guts in my belly?
Alon.
If Shat'lin, or Locket had us, what Olio's, Raggous, and Pottages,
would they make?
-- 20 --
Gon.
So new a Dish never came from France, they would get the
Devil and all by us.
Alon.
We should out-stink French Cheese.
Gon.
O help help, here's Raw-head and Bloody bones, the Master
Cook of Hell.
[A noise of horrid Musick; a Devil arises with a Crown of Fire.]
Sings.
Arise, arise, ye Subterranean Feinds,
Come claw the backs, of guilty hinds:
And all ye filthy Drabs, and Harlots rise,
Which use t' infect the Earth with Puddings, and hot Pies;
Rise ye who can devouring glasses frame,
By which Wines pass to th' hollow Womb, and Brain;
Engender Head-akes, make bold elbows shake,
Estates to Pimples, and to desarts turne.
And you whose greedy flames mans very entrals burne,
Ye ramping queans, who ratling Coaches take,
Though y'ave been fluxed 'till Head and Body shake.
Come Clap these Wreches 'till their parts do swell:
Let Nature never make them well,
Cause Leggs, and Arms to pine, cause loss of hair,
Then make them howl with Anguish, and sad groans.
Rise and obey, rise and obey, Raw head and bloody bones.
[Exit Devils]
Devils arise with Bellows, and blow Alonzo, and Gonzalo, off the Stage.
A Dance.
The End of the Second Act.
Act III.
Scene I.
Enter Stephania with a Pitcher, Beantosser, and Moustrappa, all drunk.
Steph.
There was a noble Marquess,
Took up his Maidens carkass,
-- 21 --
Fast by the Fire side.
A very homely Damsel,
Her lips were soft as Lambs wool,
Or marrow Pasty-fri'd.
This is but a kind of a doleful Tune, to beat Hemp to, but hang't
lets squeeze the Picher, here's to thee my doughty Amazon.
Bean.
Right reverend Trot-up-and-down, I'le do thee reason
here Moustrappa.
Steph.
Come bouze it about, and a fico for the Justice. Fortunes
a Whore, and will be kind to her Sisters.
Mous.
Of the first Five men, we met Three were Johns, and Four
of those were Cukolds,—Which is a good sign, and so squeez the
juice.—
Bean.
A strong point of Consolation, let me kiss thee for that,
thou pretty, pocky, well favour'd Crack.
Sing.
Steph.
Fill the Dish Molly,
And think of a Cully.
Here's a health to the best.
Give us more Drink, a Surgeon that's jolly.
And a pox take the rest.
Molly fill.
We cry still,
Fill again, and drink round.
'Till we empty the Pitcher, and fill up the Crown.
Bean.
Hold, hold, our Sister is grown hollow hearted, and like a
jilting Quean, forsakes us in our Tribulation.
Mous.
'Tis ev'n what I look'd for,—The last Dish came as slow,
and frothy, as the last words of a declaring Quaker.
Bean.
When the Spirit sinks down his Throat, and rattles like the
departing Water in a leaky Pump.
Steph.
Blame her not, you here she is sound still, ha! wilt thou so?
Knocks the Pitcher.
Why thats very fair,—She sayes, she will do w'ye for a
Groat a time, 'till you are not able to stand: I'le be hang'd
if the worst Jugg in Town, will do cheaper.
Bean.
Look Moustrappa Weeps,—Hang losses, though our
Dancing Schooles ruin'd, we have sav'd our Instruments: And as
-- 22 --
long as Men drink, and Women paint, we shall still jog on.
Steph.
There are more of our Dulcimers thump'd ev'ry Night in
Covent-Garden, then there are Ghittars scrap'd in a Week, in Madrid;
therefore I say, staunch thou false hearted misbeleiving Jewes-Trump,
do not many industrious Females live well by bidding
Gentlemen welcome to Town, singing at their Chamber doors?
Bean.
And trucking their English small Wares, for French Toyes.
Mous.
O this was a dreadful bout for poor Moustrappa. In robbing
me, they pillag'd six Brokers: ruind my Credit, and quite
kill'd my old dealer, honest Jack the Mercer; for just as I had
brought his Body to such a state, that none else would touch him
so that I could set my own rates, they took me from him; the French
Farendine, he gave me for a Gown is gone too.—But let the
World rub, when 'tis at worst 'twill mend.
Bean.
The devil take thee, for putting me in mind of my losses:
hang me if I can forbear weeping too.
Steph.
Then thou art in danger of drowning for the water's
above thy mouth, and there's no passage by the Nose, for the bridge
was down long ago; and so she prai'd me to tell ye.
Bean.
My friend is a brisk French Merchant, I knew him a
Taylors Trotter: but from 3 Ounces of Jessimy-butter, halfe a Pound
of Powder, and 6 pair of Jessimy-Gloves, by cheating the King of his
Customes, and his fellow Subjects of their Money, he's come to
his beaten Farendine Suit ev'ry day: had not this befall'n me, I had
reduc'd him to his first being, and I had hazarded the saving of his
Soul, by the ruine of body, and estate.—But he is but repreiv'd,
—the pox will take him, for he is a Termagant at laced
Mutton.
Steph.
Mischeif light on ye both, for minding me of my losses;
there was scarce a Manchild in Town, gentle, or simple, from Fifteen
to Threescore, that did not pay me Tribute.—When I walk'd
the Streets, the Shop-keepers bow'd, the Prentices wink'd; If five,
or six Gallants stood in the way, Lord what rustling and cringing
was there to Madam Stephania?—Aunt, cries one, how does my
little Neece?—The Aunt, and the Neece, may both be damn'd,
for any thing you care to please me he slips a Guinny. When shall
we cut up the Giblet Pye? cryes another.—Go y'are a wag, cry
I: there's halfe a Peece. Saies a third, is there never a fresh Runlet
-- 23 --
tap'd? yes quoth I, but you shall be hang'd e're you lick your lips
with it; and so she praid me to tell ye: still something's coming,
for every now and then slips in a close thriving Tradesman, look
ye Mrs. quoth he, I do not use these things, but the case is thus, I'le
be at a word, I want a Wench, give me good sound ware, here's
your Money, ready Money: I won't build Sconces, and bilk you, as
your Gentlemen Bullies do, let me have weight and measure, one
words as good as a thousand. Well quoth I, put your bus'ness into
my hand, I'le use a Conscience, aye, and I did too, for as I hope for
freedome; sometimes I have hardly got 8d. in the Shilling. But
such were sure Customers, they never left me for fear of discovery.
Oh! I could tell you such stories of Vestry-men, and Burgesses, as
would make the Bells ring backwards, i'faith,—Me, and my
bus'ness, was the whole talke of the Town, but all was kep'd secret,
not a word mention'd, unless 'twer in some Coffee-house, or the
Streets.—But now they all forsake me—but 'twill rub out
when 'tis dry, and so I squeeze.—
Sing.
Tough Hemp must we beat?
Dry Bread must we eat,
And be bumbled, and jumbl'd, and grumbl'd at too, too, too.
And drick nothing, but Wat, Wat, Water that's cold?
Then Harry, and Mary, be merry and cheery, as long's we can do, do, do.
And drive away sorrow, untill we are old.
Come bouze it about, and lets squeeze out the Pitcher.
He's a Rogue that stands out, and shall ne'r be the Richer.
Bean.
Heres Ten go downs upon Re. Moustrappa.
Mous.
Put rem to't or I renounce thee.
Bean.
Renounce me Puss, not pledge me, thou salt Suburbian
Hackney, not pledge me.
Mous.
Well Mrs. Beantosser, I hant stood three years at Livery,
and been hyr'd for 6d. a side on Holydaies, by Chimny-Sweepers,
and Coblets 'Prentices, I hant so.—
Bean.
Who has Mrs. Gillian flirt! Mrs. To and agen, who has?
Mous.
I name no body, but touch a gall'd Horse, and he'l
wince.
Bean.
But I know who has been taken up in the common, and rode
-- 24 --
so many heats that they got the French, fashions that was ev'n your
own sweet Monkey face, I scorne to go behind your crooked back
to tell you so.
Steph.
Fight Dog, fight Bear, still here's the juice of life.
Mous.
I never danc'd naked at the French house for Mild-Six-pences,
goody Lerry-come-twang.
Steph.
Out, out, that's old, that's old.
Bean.
Nor I never walk'd the Streets at Night, stark naked in a
Buckram Suit, trim'd with black Ribons at the Codpeice, Mrs. Gincrack,
Mrs. Nimble-go-through.
Steph.
No, no, that thou didst not old Tru-peny, that was the
Tailors Wife,—but 'tis old too.—
Bean.
Who dress'd her self in mans cloahes to commit with another
Womans Husband under his natural Wifes nose, not you?
Mous.
Who goes ev'ry Night upon Water to see men swim on their
backs, and show beastly triks, not Beantosser, no?
Bean.
Who uses to be drunk at Tavernes tear her friends Wigs,
and then give all the Money, she has for a frisk with the Drawer, not
Mrs. Betty Moustrappa?
Mous.
Who storms the Fort in private with a Leathern Gun.
Bean.
Go y'are a mean spirited Crack, to be kep'd by a Club of
'Prentices: and so she praid me to tell ye.
Mous.
'Tis better to receive small ware then give broad Gold, as
thou doest like a silly Trapes.
Bean.
The foul names thy own, and I'le dash it down thy Throat.
Mous.
Help, help, murther, she'l murther me.
Steph.
Hold, hold, hold, keep the Kings Peace, I say keep the
Peace, do you not tremble to use such bug words, if any body
should hear you it would bring a scandal on the house, and make
'em think us Whores, Restore her nose Moustrappa, and you Beantosser,
give back her Eye-brows: I say squeeze the juice, and let acts
of Hostility cease, I was governaunt at home, and I will be justice of
Peace here.
Bean.
I will have no Justice.—
Steph.
Beantosser be orderly, and thou shalt be my Clerk.
Mous.
No private bribery to Corrupt Justice, and to show that I
desire all things may be done without favour or selfishness, let Beantosser
be hang'd, and give me her cloathes, and so I squeeze.
-- 25 --
Bean.
Justice, an't please your Worship, I'le swear the peace
against her.
Steph.
Bear back, bear back, good People don't press upon the
Court.—Constable stand by me, and go fetch the offender before
me.
Bean.
I command thee to come before my Lord Justice.
No—good people will ye ayd and assist me.—We are resolved
to assist Mr. Constable Beantosser to the death.—La you there
now.
Mous.
The Justice is an Ass, the Constable a Sheepshead, and all
the good People a Whore, and a Baud: and so she pray'd me to
tell ye.
Bean.
Grant me a humming Warrant to compel her to come before
you volens nolens of her own accord.
Steph.
How, how, thou art an evil Counsellor, and a Traytor;
thou seekest to deprive me of my honourable Imployment by force
quoth'a, no, some wiser then some: I am a Justice of peace, and must
keep the peace. But if I grant a Warrant to compel, I break the
Peace. If she comes, she comes, all must be done in a peacefull way:
Volens nolens quoth'a.
Bean.
Right Worshipfull, 'tis a common way to grant a Warrant.
Steph.
Ay, ay, 'tis so common that we Magistrates are all the
worse for't, it makes justice so cheap that no People of fashion care
for using any.
Bean.
An't please your Worship,
Steph.
Please me, and please thy self, I say still.
Bean.
To accept this small present?
Steph.
Hay! more Plots, how darst thou corrupt Justice, thou
Treacherous Strumpet! devour the bowels that gave thee Suck?
Now do I know she wants Justice, because she would buy it—Clerk,
take up the Bribery, and give it to the poor: since my Clerk is absent
I will vouchsafe to do it my self.—But did this audacious
Tatter-de-mallion declare with her own Corporal voyce, that she
would not come before us?
Mous.
I did, and I do again send thee word by my self, that thou
shalt come before me,—If thou wilt not, I command thee to stay
there,—and so I squeeze.
Steph.
Does the Rebel send word, her self being present, that
-- 26 --
she will not appear?—it stands not with our high place to put up
such affronts.—Head-Constable, knock her down, and keep the
Peace.
[Bean. and Moust. fight.
Steph.
So now the whole Courts in an uproar, fight, 'till the Devil
part you.—Hold, hold, fall off, and unite against the common
Enemy.
Enter Hectorio, and Drinkallup, drunk and Singing.
Drink.
Francky, was his name a,
And Francky was his name a;
His Beard was black, and his Gills were Red,
And his Bill was all of the same a.
With weapon full sharp, he fought 'till he was dead,
With a Heycock of the game a,
And Francky was his name a,
And with weapon &c.
Hect.
Francky's dead, and gon a,
Poor Franchy's dead, and gon a:
Thy browes are black, and thy lips are Red,
And thy bellies soft as the down a.
Let me be thy Worm, and at every turn,
I will tickle thy flesh, and bone a.
Then prithee cease they moan a,
Since Francky's dead, and gon a.
Let me &c.—
Steph.
Silence in the Court, to keep a sound Peace, I make you
both my High-Constables of Westminister.
Bean. Mous.
Agreed, agreed.
Steph.
Then by Virtue of my Warrant, which shall be made when
we are at leasure, bring those disturbers of the Peace before me.
Bean.
Woman, leave thy babbling, and come before the
Justice.
Mous.
Hectorio, be uncover'd in the Court, and obey the Officers.
Hect.
What Court? what Officers?
Bean.
Why Stephania is Justice of Whorum, and we are both
Head-Constables.
-- 27 --
Hect.
Then Officers, look to your Throats, for there will be above
Ten thousand up in Armes to Night. Sings.—And their bellies soft
as the down a.
Steph.
He has confest, and shall be hang'd 'till he's dead. Come
thou Rake-hell, villain, dog, where are they, what's their design,
who leads 'em on, who brings 'em off, make his Mittimus, before
he answers, and send him to Tyburn.
Hect.
Old touch and go, why so hasty?—My Lord Bacchus leads
'em on: my Lady Venus brings 'em off: their design is to rise up in
their Beds, at midnight, to stab all the Women, and behead all the
Virgins they Catch.
Drink.
Sings—
With a Hey-cock of the game a.
Bean.
O inhumane Canibals!
Mous.
Let 'em do their worst, the Women will be hard enough
for 'em, man to man.
Steph.
And I believe the Virgins had notice of their design, for
there is not one left in my Liberties: Head-constables, dispatch this
Westminster Wedding, I say, tye 'em up.
Bean.
Won't your Worship examine the Woman?
Steph.
I say, take her away, shes a Pick-pocket I know, by her
lac'd Shooes: besides, heark ye, she's a Witch, she carries an enchanted
Ring about her which turns Rich men to beggers, and makes an
Ass of a Justice of Peace.
Drink.
Gentlemen of the Jury, this Villain is no honester then
he should be, he rob'd me of a dozen of precious Turpentine guilt
Nutmegs, and a Pewter Squirt.
Hect.
Which is flat felony, for that's the Iron work to her Plough,
without which it must stand still, and her Familiars must starve: and
so she prayd me to tell ye.
Drink.
But because the old Rogue is a true friend to the Chuck-office,
I care not much if I save him, therefore you may bring in
the Fellony, Man-slaughter.
Hect.
Gentlemen, I am a Witness for the King, and so lets squeeze
all round.
Mous.
Art thou her Cozen after the flesh?
Drink
No, he is my Husband's Brother, for they tumbl'd both
in one Belly.
Bean.
Then thy Husband has a whole Legion of Brothers, for halfe
-- 28 --
the Town have tumbl'd in the same place: and so she pray'd me to
tell ye.
Steph.
Woman, put me in good Bail, or take her away Jaylor.
Hect.
Hold, hold, what Bail dost thou demand?
Steph.
Two substantial Citizens, Aldermens fellowes, or common
Councel men, but no Cuckolds.
Drink.
No Cuckolds, Jaylor take me away,—hold, heark
you, If you'l take a Hundred that are Cuckolds, by the help of my
friends here they shall be produc'd presently.—Nay don't bob
down your heads, I did but try him.
Steph.
No, no! no Cuckolds.
Hect.
This is flat Tyrany, thou maist as well demand a Tribute
of Maiden-heads in the Teens: but Miracles are ceas'd.
Steph.
What is this notorious talking Rogue in for?
Mous.
For Robbing of the Vestry.
Steph.
How Sirrah, who made you a Church-Warden?
Mous.
'Tis but a Vestry matter, and may be agreed at the next
Tavern.
Bean.
Who will pay Scot and lot, as they say, and serve in all under
Offices of trouble, if every Rascal shall usurp that very Office,
where they may reward themselves?
Steph.
Ay, without Authority, or paying a farthing for't, when
'tis well known substantial House-keepers have given hundreds
or't.
Bean.
Yes, and thriv'd upon't too, with a blessing on their pious
endeavours.
Steph.
Head Constables take 'em away to Limbo.
Hect.
We defie thee, and thy Head-Constables, to mortal
battle.
Steph.
Then blood will ensue: and so she prai'd me to tell
ye.—Sound a charge, and keep the Peace.
[Musick plays, they dance, and Exeunt.
-- 29 --
Act. III.
Scene. II.
Enter Ariel, and Quakero.
Ariel Sings.
Follow me, follow me, hey jolly Robin.
The Moon shines bright,
And Women are light,
And most men had rather eat then fight.
Then leave off your Coging.
And follow me, and follow me hey jolly Robin.
Quak.
Four corners on my bed,
Four beauties therely spred.
If any evil come to me,
O goodness sweet deliver me.
Blessed be thanked, it is now again departed; this Charme I
learn'd in the days of my Paganis-me, before I attain'd to the in-working
and the bowel-yernings of the outgoing of the over-flowings;
but now that I am mounted into the Saddle, and exalted to
the House top, and lifted on the sounding Tub of reformation, I am
above the Fruit-mongers of the hard Streets of stony-heartedness:
and I am above thee Satan—ha it cometh again.
Four corners on my bed.
Ariel Sings.
Turn thy Stocking, and tye thy Shooe hard.
Thy mouth being wash'd, and wip'd thy beard.
Come away, come lets be jogging.
Bo, bo, bo, bo,
Heark, heark, how the Bettern bellows:
Now is the time for good fellows.
To it—to it—to it—to it.
The Citizens Wife.
Leads a merry, merry life,
While her Husband at home does grunt and groan.
Whoo whoo oo oo oo—whoo ooo oo.
Alass poor man he is sick of the yellowes.
Cuckoe, cuckoe.
-- 30 --
Heark, heark, what the little birds tell us.
Cuckoe, cuckoe, cuckoe.
Quak.
Torment me no more thou Hobgoblin, thou Robin-good-fellow,
thou Will with a wisp, thou Spright, thou Fairy, thou,
thou nothing, thou something—ha, what should this be, assuredly
here hath been some Crouder slain against his consent, or murther'd
wrongfully, or else 'tis the Soul of some profane Singing-man
that rejoyceth and gibeth at the death of the Duke my father, Oh!
O! O! it comes again.
Four corners on my bed,
Four beauties—
Ariel. Sings.
Youth, youth of mortal race, give ear,
Thy Daddies dead, thy Daddies dead.
To Stocks his feet, to Pillory his Ear,
To whip of thong his flesh is ay turned;
And tough battoon does thump his bone.
O hone, O hone, O hone, O hone.
Then little youth Nandy.
Drink Ale and Brandy.
His knell is hourly rung on his back.
Heark now I hear it, thwick, thwick, thwack,
Thwick, &c.—thwack.
Quak.
This dolefull madrigal sayes my Father is in Limbo, that is
Mortus est, that is, he is dead, that is, he is departed, he is gone,
he is fled, he is no more; He is, he is, I say, he is, that is, he is not.
His feet Stock-fish, his ears Pilchards, his flesh
Thornback, and Tough Battoon does thump his bone.
O hone, O hone, O hone, O hone.
Friend Quakero, this is no mortal business, though thou hast done
Satan right noteable service in perverting many, beleive him not,
I say believe him not: hast thou forgot how it was resolv'd in a full
dispute, where a friend, ev'n Guly Penno, declared that Satan was a
lyer, nay thou hast not forgot, beleive him not, yet I will go to find
out and be satisfi'd in the truth of the lye.
Ariel.
Thwick, thwick, thwick, &c.
[Exit Ariel.
-- 31 --
Quak.
Hark, it is there again, it luggeth me by the Ears, even as
a Swine is lugged by a Mastiffe dog: or as one of your wicked Idolatrous
Misses is led by the rattling of a guilt Coach, or as, as I say,
or as ah ha em, or as ah a aa.
So much for this time.
[Exit Quakero.
The End of the Third Act.
Act IV.
Scene. I.
Enter Prospero, and Ariel. Prospero eating a peece of Bread and Butter.
Pros.
Now does the charm'd impostume of my Plot
Swell to a head, and begin to suppurate,
If I can make Mantua's Infant Duke,
Switchel my young giglet Dorinda.
Sincere Quakero to my power bends,
And shall with my discreet Miranda yoak,
Or be tormented ever here,
In my enchanted Castle of Bridewellow.
Great pity 'tis—for he's a pretty fellow.
Ariel!
Ari.
What says my mighty and most potent Master.
Pros.
How do these right puissant Ragamuffins bear their durance?
Ari.
The Duke with haughty meen, for lack of food,
Sits cracking Fleas, and sucking of their blood.
With him is good Gonzale.
Pros.
Is he so, Adsbud.
[Throwes away his Bread and Butter, in passion.
Ari.
From eyes of Glass the gummy tears that fall
Down Iv'ry beard like Christal vermine crawl.
The rest are picking strawes, and so that's all.
Pros.
Where is Quakero, that young Princely Sprout?
Ari.
Like Lanthorn-jack I led him all about,
And now he's blowing of his nailes without.
-- 32 --
Pros.
Alass poor Trout.
Ari.
I have so gall'd note 'em, 'twould make your Graces hair stand on
end to see how they look; though your heart more stony was then
Coblers wax i'th' dog days, 'twould make it in your mouth dissolve
like Culvers dung.
Pros.
Do'st thou think so Spirit?
Ari.
It makes mine open and shut, open and shut, like a fat Hostesses
greazy Pouch, so it does: and then the poor old Gentleman note
and her daughters have almost torne one another to peeces—I pity
them.
Pros.
And I will—hast thou that art so young a Spirit, so little
too—had a touch a feeling of their Case, and shall not I have a relish?
—Well, Ariel go let a Table be brought to them furnish'd with
most sumptuous Cates, but when they try to eat, let two great Babboons
be let down with ropes to snatch it away.
Ari.
O Sir Punchanello did that at the Play-house.
Pros.
Did he so—then bend thy ayry ear.
[whispers
Ari.
More toyle—I pry'thee now let me mind thee of thy promise
then—where is my Two-penny Custard?
Pros.
Ho now moody, doe'st thou murmure?
Ari.
No my Lord!
Pros.
Thou ly'st, Malignant thing, thou dost.
Ari.
I pri'the my Lord, ben't so touchy.
Pros.
Hast thou forgot the hairy Woman I freed thee from, who
sent thee ev'ry morning down her Gormandizing throat with a
Candle and Lanthorn, to tread the Ooze of the salt deep?—At other
times she made thee pass up against the strong Northern blasts,
when the capacious Bay was bak'd with brandy 'till thou hadst
clear'd thy passage to her nose, on whose sulph'rous top thou sat'st
Singing like a little Chimny Sweeper, hast thou forgot her?
Ari.
No my dread Lord.
Pros.
If thou more murmur'st, in some small dimple of her Cheek
I'le peg thee, where Twelve Sommers more thou shalt lye stewing
like a Maggot in a Holland Cheese.
Ari.
O pardon great Sir this once, and I will be a good Boy,
and never do so more.
Pros.
Then do as I commanded, but make hast least the Conjurers
of to'ther House steal the Invention—thou know'st they snatch
-- 33 --
at all Ingenious tricks.
Ari.
I fly most potent Sir.
[Exit Ariel flying.
Pros.
Now for the infant Duke of Mantua. Hypolito my Child
come forth.
Enter Hypolito playing with Nickers.
Hyp.
Anan, anan, forsooth—you Sir, don't you stir the Nickers,
I'le play out my game presently.
Pros.
Come gentle youth, exalt thy ducal chin, for thou shalt
have a Wife my boy.
Hyp.
A Wife Sir! what's that, I never saw it?
Pros.
No my boy, but they are now so common, young men can
hardly walk the streets for them.
Hyp.
Don't go away, you Sir, I do but stay for a Wife, and then
I'le play out my game.—O good Sir, let me have it quickly.
Pros.
And so thou shalt, for my daughters sake; if he should know
Wives were growing out of fashion, I fear he would not marry, for
the stripling has a gentile fancy, I see by the neatness of his cloathes.
Hyp.
Will it play at Bullet with me?
Pros.
Ay and Cat, and Trap-ball too.
Hyp.
What is it like Sir? what is it like?
Pros.
'Tis so inconstant I scarce know what to liken it to, 'tis still
unsatisfi'd, restless and wrigling like an Eel.
Hyp.
O pray let me have it then; I love Eels mightily.
Pros.
But like an Eel 'twill slip from thee.
Hyp.
But I'le bite it by the tail then, and shake it 'till it lies still.
Pros.
A shrew'd youth! well thou shalt have it, 'tis beautiful as a
Colly-flower, but like that too, when 'tis kep'd long, nothing is more
unpleasant.
Hyp.
O Sir! I won't keep it long.
Pros.
A very hopeful Lad!—But it won't part from thee.
Hyp.
Then I'le beat it, and kick it, and run away from't.
Pros.
Modishly said y'gad, still hopeful—but she'l save thee that
trouble, and leave thee as soon any other will keep her; for
she's wild and skittish as an unbackt Colt.
Hyp.
Is it like a Colt? O Lemine! then I'le ride upon't.
Pros.
A lass poor youth! thou wilt soon be tir'd, and thrown off.
Hyp.
No Sir, I shall never be weary of Riding; and I'le hold so
fast by the Mane and the Tail, that I won't fall off.
-- 34 --
Pros.
O fie, you must not use it like a Beast.
Hyp.
What must I do with it then?
Pros.
Why you must eat and drink with it.
Hyp.
What is it a Fork, and an Earthern-Pot then?
Pros.
No, but she may make Forkes, and crack too many Pots.
Hyp.
Then she shall teach me to make Forks.
Pros.
Hold there,—you must enjoy none but her.
Pros.
Enjoy, ah ha! enjoy! what a word is there? enjoy! O
rare!—what is enjoy Sir?
Pros.
Why, that is to be happy.
Hyp.
Enjoy to be happy, then I'le enjoy all the Wives in
the World;—For I love to be happy Sir: enjoy!
Pros.
I'le tell you more hereafter; go in and read your Hornbook,
that Treatise of Abstruse Philosophy I gave you last.
Hyp.
I go forsooth.
[Exit Hypolito.
Pros.
Now by my best hopes a shrew'd youth, a very shrew'd youth,
and a notable head-peace—I'm glad he's grown so prudent. If all
that Marry in this Age of liberty were so Politick, we should see better
times.
Enter Hypolito crying.
Hyp.
O lo! o lo! o lo! Oh, ho, ho, ho!
Pros.
What's the matter? what grand intrigue of Fate can
reach to the disturbance of thy manly Soul?
Hyp.
Manly Soul, quoth a, 'twould disturb any mans Soul: I'me undone
Sir, while I was talking with you about a Wife, Tom Bully
stole away my stones.
Pros.
Hah thy stones, what stones?
Hyp.
Why my bowling stones. O ho ho, now I can't teach my
Wife to play Nickers.
Pros.
I'me glad 'tis no worse; O fie, fie my Lord, you must leave
off this boyes Play now, and learn to play with Children; go, go in.
Hyp.
By never, I'le pay that Rogue Tom Bully, when I catch him.
[Exit Hypolito.
Pros.
Now I must instruct my Daughters.
Long sleeps and pleasures follow ev'ry Novice:
But plots and cares perplex grave men of Office.
Ye Gods!
More blest are men of mean and low condition,
-- 35 --
Then Bridewell-keeper is, or sage Magician.
[Exit Prospero.
Act IV.
Scene. II.
Enter Miranda, and Dorinda.
Dor.
Oh Sister! I have such a twittering after this Husband,
And my mouth doth so run in a civil way.
Mir.
Are you not breeding Teeth Sister?
Dor.
Zooks, if I am the King, shall know't.
Mir.
'Vads Sister, ever since my Father told me of it, which is at
least six Hours ago, I can't rest Day, nor Night, for ought I know.
Dor.
Its hole's hereabout, whereof looky' my Father said that it
should get me with Child pray.
Mir.
O lo! get you with Child, what's that?
Dor.
I can't tell, but I do so shake and laugh when I think of't.
Mir.
Heigh ho! whereof Sister you are affraid?—Let it come
to me, vads Sister I won't be affraid.
Dor.
Zooks Sister, if my Father should send a hundred to get me
with Child in a civil way, I wouldn't be affraid.
Mir.
O but Sister, whereof looky', my Father said that a Husband
was wild as a Cock-Sparrow or a Curl'd-Lamb, that he did now pray.
Dor.
Then I would chirrip to't, and make it hop, and stroak it,
and make it wag its tayl and Cry blea, 'till it 'twas as tame as a little
Lap-dog, but my Father says they are always gentle at home: and
wild abroad.
Mir.
Whereof Sister heark ye, now lets leave this idle talk, and
play the Scotch Morice.
Dor.
Then I'le play forward, and backward, for that's the way
now.
Mir.
No I won't play Boyes play,—I'le tell you what, you
should be a School Mistriss, and—
Dor.
No Sister, no I'le tell you what? You should be a Citizens
Wife pray, and so I should be a Lord looky', and I should come in a
Golden-Coach and be your Husbands Customer.
Mir.
Ay 'vads that's pretty.
-- 36 --
Dor.
So I should meet you at the Play-House, and say Madam
looky' 'tis a thousand pitties such a glazing Di'mond of beauty should
be the Slave of a dull Mechanick Cit. and cry what d'ee lack?
Whereof you should cry then, O Lord Sir, you are mistaken Zooks.
Mir.
O Lord Sir, you are mistaken Zooks!
Dor.
Then I should say Dam'ee Madam! you are a necklace for a
Prince, I'le settle Three Pounds a Year upon you, and you shall have
a Silver Baby, and a Silver house, and eat nothing but Golden
Custards, and Silver-Stew'd-Pruines: then you should say whereof
you have got a Wife of your own, my Lord?
Mir.
Then you should say whereof you have gotten a wife of your
own my Lord.
Dor.
Then I should throw my Wig, and say, Oh Madam! if you
love me, name her not. She's so dull and musty, the very thought of
her will make me swoun, Damher. But you I doat upon. So then
you should let me lye with you in a Civil way.
Mir.
O ay, ay, I love that y'vads!
Dor.
And then another should lye with you, and another, so at
last you should be catch'd in a Baudy-house with your Husbands
under Prentice looky', and so be brought to Bridewell as Mrs. Tweedlebum
was t'other day.
Mir.
No, no, Sister, I wont play so—I'le tell y' what, lets play
Truss-fayl, do pray now Sister.
Dor.
Come then, I'le lye down first.
Mir.
Truss.
Dor.
Fayl.
Mir.
Send me well upon my Grey Nags taile. O Sister, Sister!
here's the Husband thing coming.
Enter Hypolito reading gravely in a Horn-Book.
Dor.
Looky, looky, O sweet Father its Leggs are twice as long
as ours.
Mir.
What's that before so trim'd up with yellow Pissabeds, and
green Blew Bottles.
Dor.
See, see it pulls off half its head.
Mir.
Run Sister, run, I'me so affraid 'twill pull your head off too.
Dor.
Zooks! I would rather lose a hundred Heads if I had 'em,
then stir a foot.
Mir.
Oh! it looks angry, I'me so affraid for you Sister.
-- 37 --
Dor.
Fear not me, if I offend it, I'le ly down and paw it with my
Four-feet, as our Shock does when we beat it.
Pros. (Within)
Miranda, Miranda!
Dor.
O Sister! my Father calls you,—whereof she sayes she
won't come for'oth.
Mir.
She fibs, she fibs Father,—I wou'd come, but I am not
here for'oth—you spiteful pissabed Slut.
Dor.
But you are here for'oth.
Mir.
I wonder y'are so simple Sister, as if I could not tell where I
am better then you—for ought I know.
Dor.
I will take Husband first that I will.
Mir.
Hussey, am not I the Elder?
Dor.
Then you shou'dn't set your Wit against a Child.
Mir.
Well then Sister, I'le tell y'what, wee'l play heads or tails,
who goes first, that's fair now, e'nt it?
Dor.
Ay, and she that don't win shall lose and keep the door.
Mir.
Well ther's a good Girle, now toss up.
Dor.
A ha! my tails turn'd up, you must watch.
Mir.
Good dear Sister have done quickly, prithee do for because
you know why Sister.
[Exit Miranda.
Hyp.
Prospero has often told me, Nature makes nothing in vain,
why then is this kip kap here—tis not aw nor e nor ee nor oo,
nor l m n o-q-py you—it strangely puzles me; I'le ask him when I
see him next.
Dor.
Thing, thing, fine long thing.
Hyp.
Bessy come bunny, come buy me some lace Sugarcandy,
Cloves and Mace. Sure I am ready for a Wife now, I can read my abstruse
Horn Philosophy.
Dor.
O Rare thing, it talkes just like one of us.
Hyp.
Ha—what thing is that? Sure 'tis some Infant of the Park,
drest in her Mothers gayest beams of Impudence, and sent down
here to play at Hemp and Beetle; but stay, is not this that thing
call'd Wife? What art thou, thou fleering thing?
Dor.
Alass I am a Woman, and my Father says I must be a Wife in
a Civil way, pray thing don't be angry.
Hyp.
Angry, no, I'le sooner break my Trapstick; mun if thou
art that thing call'd Wife, which troubles poor men so that they can't
Wench in quiet—Prospero says that I must enjoy thee.
-- 38 --
Dor.
If thou art that thing call'd Husband which art alwayes sullen
and niggardly at home, but merry and expensive abroad. which
feedst a Wife with tripe and Cowes heels, and treatest a Mrs. with
Woodcock and Teale, and fine things, and at last turnest off a Wife
with just enough to buy Bread and Cheese and worsted Farendine,
but maintainst thy Miss like a Princess, my Father says thou must get
me with Child for ought I know.
Hyp.
Get thee with Child, O lo! whats that?
Dor.
Whereof I can't tell, but I think you must dig it out of the
Parsly-bed.
Hyp.
Show me the Parsly-bed then.
Dor.
I won't, you ha, got nothing to dig with: you said you must
enjoy me, what's that pray?
Hyp.
Why Prospero says you are like a Colt, and then you should
be backt.
Dor.
Phoe, I won't play so.
Hyp.
Won't you, then look to't, for you are but a Colly-flower,
and though y'are so proud to day you'l stink to morrow.
Dor.
Zooks this is the silli'st Husband-thing I ever saw: I'le run
into the Garden, and teach him more wit in a civil way.
Hyp.
Nay if you run from me like an Eel, I'le bite you by the tail.
[Exeunt running after each ohter.
Pros. (Within)
Miranda! Dorinda! Daughters, Daughters!
Enter Miranda hastily.
Mir.
Oh I'me glad my Father comes, for when Fire and Flax are
together, none knows how soon mischeif may be done. Dorinda,
Dorinda, my Fathers coming.
Enter Dorinda and Hypolito hastily. Hypolito runs off.
Dor.
O Sister pray lets Dance our new Heroick Song that our
Father mayn't know who was here.
They Sing and Dance. Enter Prospero observing them.
Mir.
Here comes a lusty Wooer, my dildin, my darling.
Here comes a lusty Wooer Lady bright and shining.
Dor.
I Wooe for one of your fair Daughters, my dildin, my darling.
I Wooe for &c.—Lady bright &c.
Mir.
I'm glad I have one for you my dild, &c.
I'm glad &c.—Lady bright, &c.
Dor.
She looks too brown upon me my dild, &c.
-- 39 --
She looks, &c.—Lady &c.
Pros.
Enough, enough, all this won't blind me, come, come, come,
stand, stand you here, and you there, nay, nay, nay, no [illeg.]pring:
Mir.
Indeed, and indeed, pray Father, I did but keep the door.
Pros.
Didst thou keep the door for thy younger Sister?
Mir.
Yes forsooth, pray Father, that I did.
Pros.
Blessing on thy pretty heart, cherish that gentile Motherly
humour, thou hast a generous Soul; and since I see thy mind so apt
to take the light impression of a modish Love, I will unfold a secret
to thee—That Creature, that thou saw'st, is a kind of a Creature
which is much like another Creature that shall be nameless, and
that's Quakero.
Mir.
But Father, pray Father, shall that Quakero Creature be my
Husband? You said I should have a Husband before she, that
you did.
Pros.
Shortly my Miranda thou shalt see the flower of this bud;
this Chit, chit, chit, chit, Cock-sparrow husband may serve thy Sister
well enough, thou shalt have a ho-ho-ho-ho-Husband, a Horseman,
go in I'le provide for thee.
Mir.
Let me have the ho-ho, quickly then pray Father.
[Going out she returns again.
Father, Father, I forgot to make my Cursy; b'wy Father.
[Exit Miranda.
Pros.
Come hither Dorinda, why saw you this Husband without
my order?
Dor.
Who I! truely I didn't saw'd him 'twas he saw'd me.
Pros.
Come, come, your Sister told me all.
Dor.
Then she fibs for ought I know, for she would ha' seen him
first, if I would ha' let her.
Pros.
Tell me what past between you?
Dor.
Nothing pass'd between us but our great dog Towzer.
Pros.
What did he do t'ee? come confess.
Dor.
He did nothing, but I am affraid he wou'd if you hadn't come.
Pros.
Why, why speak out?
Dor.
Because he came towards me with his tail up as stiffe as any
thing.
Pros.
Ha, I thought as much; wha what did he do then? the truth, I
charge you.
-- 40 --
Dor.
Why he did nothing but walk to his Kennel.
Pros.
Walk'd to his Kennel—who?
Dor.
Why our great dog Towzer.
Pros.
Pho, thou understandst me not, what did the Husband-thing
do to thee?
Dor.
Why nothing at all, for just as we got to the Parsly-bed, you
frighten'd it away.
Pros.
I charge you see it no more, 'twill Poyson you, and make
you swell as big as a house.
Dor.
Not see it, I'le run th'rough Nine Walls, but I'le see it, and
have it to, though it make me swell 'till I break in peeces.
Pros.
Go get you in, y'are a naughty Girle.
Dor.
The World's come to a very fine pass for ought I know,
one can't play with a thing an hour or two alone, or be in bed with
a man, but one must be naught: I won't endure it much long, that
I won't so.
[Exit Dorinda.
Pros.
So—my wishing Pipe
Has swell'd my hopeing Cistern to a Flood.
Dorind' and Polito's agreed, that's good.
Now for Miranda, and the youth Quakero;
When they are coupl'd too—there ends my Care'o.
[Exit Prospero.
Act IV.
Scene III.
Enter Alonzo, Gonzalo, and Antonio.
Gonz.
My hands are so tyr'd with stareing about for meat,
that my feet can look no further—I must rest
my old bones.
Alon.
Old Lord I cannot blame thee, for I am seiz'd with such a
griping, that I cannot rest.—My Courtyers us'd to tell me I had
no humane imperfection; But here I will put off my hose and keep
it no longer for my Flatterers
[Musick as in Air.
Gonz.
Ha, these are a sort of doggish greedy Devils, come to
devour the meat e'r 'tis dish'd up.
Anto.
Do not for one repulse forgo the great design you were
about to act.
-- 41 --
Gonz.
Oh help, help, something unseen has ty'd my hands behind
me.
Alon.
Mine are stollen away too, and 'tis well for 'em, for my
mouth is grown so angry for want of meat, that if they should again
appear empty it would devour them.
Anto.
Sure tis the Devils hock-tide, for mine are bound too.
Musick.
Alon.
O heark my fiends,
I fear we shall behold another horrid sound.
Gonz.
The Devil takes his time when we are bound.
Alon.
He thinks to save his Bacon, feeble feind,
But with bound hands our hands we will unbind.
Enter Ariel Singing.
Song.
Dry your eyes, and cease your howling:
For your Broath is set a Cooling.
While y'are in this Castle staying,
Eat and Drink ne'r talk of paying.
Wine and Women here are plenty,
You shall tast of ev'ry dainty.
And as soon as you are weary,
Here are Crowds to make you merry.
[Exit Ariel.
Alon.
I marry this is comfortable.
Anto.
No Musick like that which powder'd Beef Sings,
A consort of Carrets with hey ding a ding.
Gonz.
Wee'l dye for our meat, then our lives shall maintain.
No butt'ring of Parsnips like long live and raign.
O for a dainty vision of butter'd Neptunes Tritons
And Nereides.
Two Devils descend, bringing down a Table with meat and drink on it.
Anto.
See my Lord a stately Banquet, adzooks!
Gonz.
First come, first serv'd.
Alon.
Happy man catch a Mackarell—But stay is not this meat
and drink brought to Poyson us?
Gonz.
Here may be more Spirit of Sulphur: but hungers sharp, and
I will tast in spight of the Devil.
-- 42 --
Anto.
And I will have a Soop.
Alon.
If both resolve, I'le take my part; Devil do thy worst.
As they try to eat, Gonzalo and Antonio are snatch'd up into the Air, and Alonzo sinks with the Table out of sight.
The End of the Second Act.
Act V.
Scene I.
Enter Quakero, and Ariel.
Quak.
I will be no longer seduced by Yea and Nay, I defie
thee.
Ari.
I defie thee.
Quak.
Thou art a Torch of Darkness, and a Snuff of the Candle
of the Socket, of the Dominion of Darkness.
Ari.
O minion of Darkness.
Quak.
Thou liest, I am no minion of Darkness, for look thee, a
lye is a lye, but the truth is not a lye, and therefore thou art a lyer
because thou lyest, as one of us hath he is sweetly in his Scourgestick
of Prophanishness, he is a right precious one, truely, truly.
Ari.
You lye, truely.
Quak.
Out thou reproacher of friends, thou Bearward of the Bull
and Mouth, thou Lambskinner of Lumbard-street, thou waspish
Woolf of Westminster, thou a a, I say thou um ah a, thou-avaunt, begone,
fly, vanish, I defie thee, I abhor thee, I renounce thee, yea,
I will scare-crow thee, I will top and scourge thee, and I will humguig
thee, for I see by thy invisible Hornes that thou art the very
Devil.
Quak.
Out Dagon, Bell and the Dragon, I knew thee long agone.
Ari.
I knew thee long agone.
Quak.
What dost thou know of me? Speak, say thy worst, what
dost thou know of me?—I may fail, but I cannot fall, for I am a
Friend—a Chosen—One of Us.
-- 43 --
Ari.
A Chosen one of Us.
Quak.
None of thy Usses, Satan, none of thy Usses; therefore
cease to torment me, for I will not speak one word more.
Ari.
One word more.
Quak.
Nay but I will not—I will Padlock my lips with
Patience, and set the Porter of peaceishness at the Wicket of my
Mouth, who shall knock thee down with the Silver head of saving-gableness
which is on the long Cane of Conscientious Reproof:
So that thou shalt no more enter into the Meeting-House of my
heart, look thee—Obadiah Cod, one of Us, who now sleep—eth
did declare soundly what thou wert, and I find it all as Poo Cod
said.
Quak.
Mock on, mock on, I will try if thou wilt answer me while
I sing my Sorrows to the snapping of my Thumbes: thy gibing is all
but nonsense.
Ari.
All but nonsense.
Quakero Sings. Ariel answers like an Eccho.
Quak.
How dost do?
Ari.
How dost do?
Quak.
What's that to you?
Ari.
Whats &c.
Quak.
Pull out thy whistle, and tune up thy Pipe.
Ari.
Pull &c.
Quak.
Under yonder hollow Tree, Nan lyes asleep.
Ari.
Under &c.
Quak.
Her thing is her own, and I'le bounce it anon.
Ari.
&lblank; and I'le bounce &c.
Quak.
What care I for treasure, if Nanny but smile?
Ari.
&lblank; if Nanny &c.
Quak.
Within this shining place,
There's not a better Face;
Faith now she's down, there I'le get her with Child.
Ari.
Kind Nanny smiles, and she
Does sigh and snore for thee;
O strange Simplicity,
Follow me, follow me, and thou shalt see.
-- 44 --
Quak.
Does Nanny sigh and snore for me, O Lo! umph, I ham
mollified: Nanny snore for me—think of thy Soul Quakero, I say
think of thy Soul; if the flesh prevail, thy Soul is but a dead man.
Ari.
Follow me, follow me, and thou shalt see.
Quak.
Heark I am called again—this voyce may be a Vision
—go Quakero, I say go—but it may be a snare, a trick to
draw me into derision, go not Quakero nay but I will not go—Nanny
sigh and snore for me, O dear!
Ari.
Follow &c.
Quak.
Again—Well I will go and advise with Friends, but why
should, thou advise, look thee, thy intention is good, though the Action
may wander, it matters not, I say, it matters not.—Nanny sigh
and snore for me, I will go—yea assuredly I will.
Ari.
Follow &c.
Quak.
Nay but I will not, it shall not be said Quakero followe'd
the Devil.—But look thee, go thou before, and I will come after,
—if that will do.
[Exeunt.
Act V.
Scene II.
Enter Prospero and Miranda at one Door. Ariel and Quakero at another. Ariel goes off immediately.
Pros.
Advance the frizled frouzes of thine Eyes, and glout on
yon fair thing.
Mir.
O dear sweet Father, is that a ho ho ho a Horse-man,
Husband?
Pros.
It is my Girle, and a yerker too; i'faith were he not tir'd
with seeking of his Company, he would play thee such Horse-tricks,
would make the sneer again.
Mir.
'Tis a most crumptious thing; i'vads if you'l let me have it,
I'le make no more dirt Pies, nor eat the Chalk you score with,
nor spoil your Garden to play with the Carrets before they are
ripe—pray sweet honey Father.
Pros.
Well I'le leave ye together. But I charge you let him not
touch your honour.
Mir.
My honour O lo! pray what is that father?
Pros.
'Tis a kind of fluttering Blood which haunts the head and
-- 45 --
hinder parts of men, some call it life-Blood, because death often ensues
when those tender parts are touch'd: in Women its seat is on the
nose, and on the—
Mir.
Where else pray tell me, that I may defend it.
Pros.
That's the ready way to make it be betrai'd.—No Child
of my bowels, thou shalt never know thy honour from me.
Mir.
Now do I long to have this secret of my honour open'd:
prythee now, Father tell me where 'tis.
Pros.
Why,—I know not what to say—On thy Elbow.
Mir.
My Elbow, O lemine! fear it not then, for my honour is so
hard with being thump'd and leand upon, that a hundred touches
can't hurt it.
Pros.
All falls out yet even as my Soul would wish, but I must
watch, I don't like this leering Quakero, such zealous youthes are
very Tyrants in secret.
[Exit Prospero.
Quak.
Assuredly Satan thou hast told truth, for she is here; But
yet thou art a lyer Satan, for she is not here, that is to say, she sleepeth
not, I will declare before her umph a ha h.—
Most finest, most delicatest, and most lusciousest Creature, whose
face is more delicious then a Pot of Ale with Sugar and Nutmeg, after
a long Exercise.
Mir.
Ha.
Quak.
The savour of whose breath is more comfortable then the
hot steam of a Sundays Dinner.
Mir.
O Lo!
Quak.
Whose Paps are whiter then two Norfolke-dumplins stufft
with Plums—and softer then Quaking-puddings.
Mir.
Why did you ever feel my Bubbies?
Quak.
Nay assuredly, but I hope I shall—
Quak.
Whose soft Palmes are pleasanter then a warm cloath to my
Sweaty-back, or a hot Trencher to an akeing Belly.
Mir.
O rare!
Quak.
Whose Legs are smoother then my Chin, on a Saturday-night,
and sleeker then thy Elbowes.
Mir.
O my honour, my honour, my Father sayes you must not
touch my honour pray.
Quak.
Nay Sister far, far be it from me to soyl thy honour. Thy
nature is more inviteing then a Christning-Bowl of warm red Wine.
-- 46 --
deckt round with Lemon-peel.
Mir.
Oh my dear, ho, ho, ho, I can no longer forbear.
[She imbraces him.
Quak.
Ah Sister mine; Now I ham even like unto that little
Creature called a Cat, when his back is stroaked, he longeth to play
with his tail.
Mir.
And what are I like then, tell me what I are like?
Quak.
Why thou are like a pretty little Mouse verily.—But
then I ham two-fold luck thee: first I ham like a Cat, and secondly
I am not like a Cat.—First, I ham like a Cat, for when the Cat
smells the pretty Mouse, he is restless and eager; Nay, he cannot
stand still, but frisketh, and jumpeth, and dance-eth 'till he hath
devoured hit;—In like sort, firstly, I ham like a Cat, look thee,
for I am inflamed, and eager truely: nay, I am even ravenous after
the pretty tender Mouse, as a Bear bereaved of her Whelps. But
secondly, I ham not like a Cat, look thee: for that seeketh the destruction,
and the nothingness of the Mouse, but I thirsteth for the
Propagation, look thee, and the somethingness, yea the fullness of
hit—ha, ha, hae.
Mir.
And am I like a Mouse i'vads?
Quak.
Unfeignedly.
Mir.
Then I'le run into my hole.
Quak.
And I will pursue even unto thy very hole, till I have
overtaken thee.
[Exeunt.
Enter Prospero hastily.
Pros.
Ah how nimble this zealous youth is—Miranda!—Miranda!
[Enter Miranda, and Quakero.
And you Quakero, come back, or I'le throw you over the Balcony,
and try if you have as many lives as a Cat.
Mir.
Zooks, Father you have spoiled the rarest play of Cat and
Mouse.
Pros.
Thou shalt be mouz'd my Girle, but every thing in season,
Rome was not built in a day, go in and trust me.
Mir.
Shan't my Puss go with me; come Puss, come little Puss.
[Exit Miranda.
Pros.
Hypolito my Child!
[Enter Hypolito.
Come hither discourse this trusty Nicodemus, 'till my return, you
must be acquainted with him.
Exit Prospero.
-- 47 --
Hyp.
Pray Mr. Nichodemus, what did your Periwig cost you?
Quak.
Ha, ha, ha, he!
Hyp.
Ha, ha, he, how much is, ha, ha, he!
Quak.
I will be avenged of thee Satan!
Hyp.
Sa—tan, my name is Hypolito!
Quak.
I will no more stir up friends to despise Government, and
teach them 'tis a great point of Faith, rather to beleive an ignorant
upright Taylor, or a precious enlightened Weaver, then a Book-learned
Tythmonger verily.
Hey.
Hey brave Boyes you Rogues Mr. Nichodemus, will you play
at Nickers you Sir, or Spand-farthing?
Quak.
Out thou lew'd scoffer, I ham a Professor.
Hyp.
A Professor, what's that?
Quak.
That is a friend.
Hyp.
And what is a friend?
Quak.
Why a friend is one of Us.
Hyp.
And what is one of Us.
Quak.
Why one of Us is a—I say is a—um a—ha, ha, ha, he.
Hyp.
Pray Mr. Nichodemus, let me be one of Us, ha, ha, ha, he.
Quak.
I would thou wert, I say, I would—thou wert, but thou
knowest not the Splendour of the obscurity of the revealed secret,
umph—ha, thou understandest not?
Hyp.
Yes I understand you well enough, but only I don't know
your meaning.
Quak.
What Religion art thou of?
Hyp.
Religion, why I am a Duke.
Quak.
What Faith dost thou profess?
Hyp.
Why Faith and Troth, and adznigs, and by this Cheese.
Quak.
Ah thou art a beast, and shouldst be chastised;—therefore
provoke me not:—I say provoke me not.
Hyp.
Not provoke thee—but I will provoke thee: take that.
[kicks him.
Quak.
I ham not provoked.
Hyp.
Then have at the again.
Quak.
I ham not provoked yet.
Hyp.
There, then there.
[kicks him.
Quak.
Nay, but I ham not yet provoked.
Hyp.
No then I'le wear out my Shooes, but I'le provoke thee;
-- 48 --
there, there, there, and there.
[kicks him.
Quak.
Hold, hold, I say hold, for I ham provoked, and I will
chastise thee.
[The Quaker throwes off his Coat, and beats Hypolito 'till he lyes as dead.
Hyp.
O murther, murther, I'le fight no more: you pull by the
hair Mr Nichodemus.
Enter Prospero.
Pros.
What dismal noyse is this—ha! Hypolito dead, then all my
toyl's in vain:—O thou unlucky chit, I wish I'de been betwattl'd,
when I had to do with thee.
Quak.
Unfeignedly I was provoked, therefore I say have Patience,
that is to sayo be pacified.
Pros.
Out thou stinking, sneaking Bastard, he's quite dead: If
ever thou serv'st me so again, I'le whip thee 'till the Blood drops at
thy heels.
Quak.
Dead! then by Yea, and Nay, I never saw him in my life.
Pros.
O cruel luck! Ariel, what ho my Spirit Ariel.
Enter Ariel.
Ari.
What says my mighty, and most Potent Lord?
Pros.
Most potent Lord! most Potent Fiddle-stick! See thou lazy
droan of a Spirit, what mischief here is done.
Ari.
O lo! O lo! O Laud! Ah poor Polly, how sadly his fingers
scratch'd; but I'le fly to Mother Damnables, and fetch some Pilgrim
salve to cure it.
[Exit Ariel.
Pros.
Miranda! Dorinda!
[Enter Miranda, and Dorinda.
O my Girles, we are all undone, look there Dorinda, thy poor Polly's
dead.
Mir.
O my dear Puss-cat, shall us play Cat and Mouse?
Pros.
Touch him not you Harlotry baggage, why when I
say—come away.
Dor.
Alass! What's worse then ill luck?
Enter Alonzo, Gonzalo, and Antonio, as driven in by Spirits.
Alon.
Never were Hogs so driv'n to Rumford, as we are
hunch'd along.
What my Boy Quakero, and alive, touch my Flesh.
Quak.
My Father after the Flesh, O sorrowfull joy.
Pros.
You stare as if you had never seen me: have so short a time
as 50 years made you forget Prospero?
-- 49 --
Gonz.
How my good old Neighbour Duke Prospero!
Alon.
The Devil 'tis: O strange, I thought he had been hang'd
long ago.
Anton.
Laud, how a little time will change folkes, I had quite
forgot him, and yet I remember him as well as if 'twere but
yesterday.
Pros.
Had I liv'd 'till now where you sent me, I had been dead
20 years ago—Know 'twas I trappan'd you to this my enchanted
Castle of Bridewello, where I yet govern, and am Lord Paramount.
I meant to be friends with you all, and Marry that strippling to my
eldest Girle; but see what he has done to the Infant Duke of Mantua.
Gonz.
Never stir, if it be not honest little Duke Polly.
Anto.
Alass poor Duke, as towardly a Child as ever broke bit of bread.
Alon.
And what dost thou now intend? we fear thee not.
Pros.
Quakero shall be hang'd, and you shall be all tortur'd; ho
within there, prepare the Pillory, the Whipping-post, the Stocks, and
Cat of Nine tailes—entreat me not, dispatch.
Mir.
I can hold no longer, O, ho, ho-ho-ho.
Quak.
Ah, ha-ha-ha-e.
[Enter Devils.
Pros.
Away with them, See it done.
The Scene of Bridewell. Ariel flyes down.
Ar.
Stay my most Potent Master, I come from the sage Urganda
of Wildo streeto, that renowned Enchantress, who has disarm'd all the
Knights of the White Spear and Nut-brown Shield: And that most
mighty Necromancer Punchanello Alquiffe, who with one breath
puts note Candle out, and in Rains Fire, makes Sea of painted Clout to
move, and Devils dance: by their ayd I have compos'd a Suppositorial
Ligneous puffe and blow, which would recal life though Nine
days lost, see here 'tis come.
Enter Devils with a great pair of Bellows.
Pros.
'Tis joyful newes.
Ari.
All must assist in the Ceremony.
Pros.
Come then let's about it.
Ariel.
Help, help Lordlings, and Ladies help
To raise up great Heroick whelp.
-- 50 --
Ariel Sings.
Prospero, Prospero
Looks feirce as a Hero;
If Polly should dye, poor I shall be killed I fearo.
Chorus.
Then blow the Bellows, blow the Bellows, blow the Bellows
blow; blow and puff, blow and puff, puff, puff, and blow, blow, blow.
Let not his Soul,
Get out of the hole
And all shall be well I tro, tro, tro, &c.
Pros.
We conjure thee two wake
By a Two-peny Cake,
Alonz.
By a Ginger-bread-role,
Mir.
By a thing with a hole,
Dor.
Which thou lov'st with thy Soul;
Gonz.
By a Rattle and Drum,
Anton.
By a great Sugar-plum,
Foran.
As big as thy Thumb.
Chorus.
Polly, Polly, Polly,
O Polly, Polly, Polly!
To dye is but folly.
For shame lye not there,
While thy Doxie is here.
All.
How is't.
Ariel.
By th' Mass
As 'twas.
All.
Alass.
Ariel.
Prospero, Prospero,
Looks, &c.—As before.
Chorus.
Then blow the Bellows, &c.—As before.
Pros.
We conjure thee agen
By a hobby Horse fine,
Mir.
By thy Bullets and Cat-stick,
Dor.
By thy Rearer and Trap-stick, note
Gonz.
By thy Marbles and Nickers,
Anton.
By thy Top and thy Gigg,
-- 51 --
Faran.
By thy Beard, and thy Wigg.
Chorus.
Polly, Polly, &c.—All as before.
[Then Hypolito rises
Ariel.
Victoria, Victoria! He lives, he lives, he lives.
[They Dance confus'dly round him.
Chorus.
Then let's hugg him, and lugg him, and tugg him, and
smugg him: with a hey brave Polly, and ho brave Polly and take him,
and shake him, and wake him, and never forsake him, with a hey brave
Polly, and ho brave Polly.
Pros.
So, so, so, wellcome to life again, now the man shall have
his Mare again, and all friends.
Alon.
Thanks Prospero, and gentle Ariel.
Gonz.
Thanks Ariel, and gentle Prospero.
Enter Stephania, Beantosser, Moustrappa, Drinkallup, and Hectorio.
Steph.
Ha, is it so, more Officers then head Constables, you may
dismiss the Pris'ners and adjourne the Court.
Bean.
What to the old place in Moor-fields.
Mous.
Ay, ay, and make Proclamation that all good Religious
People may take notice of it.
Steph.
No, no, wee'l meet here again to morrow. And so
she pray'd me to tell ye.
Drink.
If any forget the place, that man in black may instruct them,
for he's Chaplain to the Society.
Pros.
Set open the Gate, you may march off, y'ave had punishment
enough for once.
[Exeunt Baud, and Whores]
Pros.
Now to wipe out the remembrance of all past sorrow, I'le
show you the pleasures of my enchanted Castle.—Ariel, see it
done, and then be free.
Ariel.
I'le about it strait.
[Exit Ariel.
MUSICK.
The Scene drawn discovers Bridewell with Prisners in several postures of labour and punishment, then a Baud and Pimp drawn over the Stage in a Cart follow'd by a Rabble; then arise Caliban, and Sycorax.
Sycorax.
My Lord great Cac-Cac-Cac-Cac-Calyban.
For my sweet sake,
Some pity take
On beauteous Nimph in Caravan:
-- 52 --
And check with seemly snout,
The Rabble rout.
Calyban.
Sweet Sycorax, my Mopsa dear,
My Dove, my Duck,
My Honey suck-
-le which hast neither prick nor peer,
I'le do't, take tail of Shirt,
Cleanse Eye from Dirt.
Syc.
Give all the rest of this fair Crew,
A play day too;
Let Pillory
And Stocks agree,
To set all free:
Let the Beetle and Whip, be both laid to sleep,
And Pris'ners Condemn'd, live for want of a slip.
Cal.
Dear Dowdy be jocund, and sleek
The dainty fine furrowes of thine Olive Cheek:
I cannot deny
My pretty Pigs nye,
With a Nose like a Rose,
And a lip as green as a Leek.
Be calme ye great Parents of the Punck, and the Pad,
While each Bully and Lass sing and revel like mad.
Chorus
Be calme, &c.—
While each, &c.—
Pimp.
Compel this roaring rout to fly.
Baud.
And wee'l obey you by and by.
Chorus
Compel, &c.—
And wee'l, &c.—
Rabble.
Give's something to drink, and wee'l go hence,
For we meant your honours no offence.
Caly.
Here, here ye dogs, here's Eighteen-pence.
Syc.
But ere you go, lets have a Dance.
Chorus
Here here, &c.—
But ere you, &c.—
[They Dance, and Sing this Chorus.
Be calme ye great Parents of the Punck, and the Pad:
-- 53 --
While each Bully and Lass, sing and revel like mad.
[Exeunt Rabble.]
[The Prisners make a noyse.
Caly.
Head-keeper, let Correction cease,
Let ev'ry back and bum have peace.
Syc.
Do not the noble Crew beguile,
They came to sing and dance a while:
And you of pleasure make a toyle.
Caly.
Be still, be still, ye whips, and ye backs,
Obey, obey, my lovely Sycorax.
Chorus
Be still, &c.—
Obey, &c.—
The Head-keeper flyes down and sings.
Head-k.
Her I'le obey whose breath's so strong, one blast
Sent from her Lungs would lay my Castle wast;
Come down my furies, lash no more,
But gently poure in
Salt and Urine,
To cleanse their crimson Face note from gore:
Whatever they are, or what'ere their transgressions,
Free all in the Castle, free all;
Make it as quiet, as at quarter Sessions,
When they make visits to Westminster-Hall.
Here Four Keepers fly down.
To the Houses you know,
Round, round, must you go,
And search ev'ry place where their Revels they keep:
But no more 'till I call, shall ye handle the whip.
Chorus
To the Houses, &c.—
Round, &c.—
And search &lblank;
But no more &lblank;
[Exeunt Keepers.
Caly.
Now the Tyrants are gone that made ye affraid:
Let each Daughter and Son,
Make hast to come on;
And be merry, be merry, be merry,
Be merry, as a Maid.
Chorus
Now the Tyrants, &c.—
-- 54 --
While the Chorus is Singing the Prisners are freed, and make ready for a Dance. The Scene shuts. A dance with Bottles in their hands.
Pimp.
Bullies my Lads, your Bottles sound.
Baud.
And let sweet Eccho from each Lass rebound.
Chorus.
Bullies, &c.—
And let, &c.—
A Dance.
Chorus
Drink up all.
Drink up all.
Drink up all.
—Up all.
Drink up all.
The Scene opens, discovers the Sea;—The Night going down Aurora, and the Sun rising—the Musick sitting in an Arch of Chariots.
Caly.
See, see black Queen of Night, is sneaking down,
And under sable Arm, she hides pale Moon.
And Dame Aurora, yonder with eyes grey,
Shedding Od'rifferous dew, and breaking day.
Behold the Skies Head-Waggoner, the Sun,
With Firy steed up yonder Hill does run.
Miss Thetis would from Watry Bed pursue.
Begone fond Minx, must none have Sun but you?
Sing.
Caly.
Now your drink, and your Drabs you shall safely enjoy.
Syc.
No Constables or Watch, shall your quiet destroy.
Chorus.
Now, &c.—
No Constable, &c.—
Pimp.
Wee'l closely convey you by a private back door:
Your Ale and Stepony wee'l fill on the Score.
Baud.
Wee'l treat ye great lubbers, as ye sail in the Straits,
With Trumpets and Cymbals, and loud City Waits.
Syc.
In each room a soft Bed, or a Couch we will lay,
To please you all Night, and delight you all day.
Chorus.
In each room, &c.—
To please you, &c.—
-- 55 --
A Dance.
Ariel appears in the Air, and Sings.
Song.
Where good Ale is, there suck I,
In a Coblers Stall I lye,
While the Watch are passing by;
Then about the Streets I fly,
After Cullies merrily.
And I merrily, merrily take up my clo'se,
Under the Watch, and the Constables nose.
Pros.
Henceforth may our Enchanted Castle be,
From Ign'rant Sprights, and sullen Devils free:
May beautious Nymphs like little Lambkins play,
While Swains with am'rous Pipes drive care away,
Our harmless mirth' shall still attend you here:
'Tis mirth that makes you Youthful brisk and fair.
That our Mock-Tempest, then may flourish long,
Clapp all that would seem beautifull and young.
FINIS.
-- 56 --
[Epilogue]
EPILOGUE by Miranda.
Gentlemen look'ee now, pray, my Father sayes that I and my Sister must have ye all i'fads:
Whereof I can't tell what to do, I'le swear'o;
If I take you, I lose my dear Quakero:
His things are precious, and his love is true;
But there's no trust in ought you say or do:
Yet for ought that I know,
My self could serve you all as well as any;
But my Father says, pray,
One Dish of meat can never serve so many;
For though you all agree in one design,
To feed like Schollers on the tender Loyn;
In this you differ with them, pray;
One little Chop, and one plain Dish will do.
You must have Sause, warm Plates, fresh hau-gou's too;
The large Pottage of glitt'ring show and dress,
Must cheat you to the little bit of flesh.
My Father says,
Since with such charge we purchase your Contents,
He thinks 'tis fit we should have Settlements:
For when you have enjoy'd, what that is, I can't tell i'vads; but I beleive you can,—.
Y'are dronish, cold and dull as any thing;
Just like a Bee, when he has lost his sting:
And though with all our tempting sweets we strive,
We ne'r shall catch you more within our Hive.
Then must our sinking joyes ne'r rise again?
Must we be kind, and show all in vain?
You lov'd the jilting Mother much and long;
She's old, the Daughter's active brisk and young:
If you neglect us still, pray,
May all your stony Pride unpit i'd fall;
And may our harmless Devils take you all. |
