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.
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].
