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.
