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The Impostor

A Tragedy
  
  
  

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SCENE II.
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SCENE II.

A Street in Mecca.
Several Peasants enter.
1st. Peas.

What says Maister Gubbin to this?
—What says our friend, Maister Gubbin?


Gubb.

As for me, neighbours—look ye—I am
out of the point. I have a dispensation from religion
—my grandfather was a nobleman's bastard,
and I am a freethinker by descent.


2d Peas.

O, here comes the doctor! he'll truss
you, and discuss you, from the twirl of a thread to
the twist of a cable.


Mob.

Welcome, doctor; kindly welcome, doctor—


Doct.

Good morrow Mr. Gubbin! A jovial
company, friends—how got you together?


Gubb.

Like geese to a pond, doctor; they
come to be dabbling—The affair, as they tell me,


25

is this. The gods have sent their child Mahomet
to them, post from heaven, on a great hobby-horse;
and as he comes so long a journey, and on
an errand from their betters, they seem inclined to
give him a civil reception—


Mob.

Ay, ay, that's it, that's it!—


Doct.

But neighbours—do you know on what
errand it is that this same Mahomet comes?—


1st Peas.

I think, some say, it be religion—


Mob.

Ay, by all means, religion—it is religion.


Doct.

But what is religion, my friends?—
Neighbour Dolt, what sayst thou to it?


Dolt.

Why religion is—as tho'f I should
say of honest Hobson here, that he is, do ye mark
me—a religious man—or indeed, and as if it were,
a man of religion—


Gubb.

Ha, ha, ha!


Doct.

Most specifically defined—And truly,
Mr. Dolt, I find thou hast as much learning by
nature, as I got from logics and all the universities
—religion, in general, is, as thou sayst—But
can any of you define me his own religion?—What
is the religion here in Mecca.


Gubb.

Now you pose 'em, doctor.


Mob.

No, no, that we cannot.


Dolt.

That were a moot point indeed—crack
me that nut who can—


Doct.

Go to then,—that can I—the religion of
Mecca is a suit of cloaths.


Mob.

A suit of cloaths!


Doct.

Ay marry is it, and the priest is the
taylor—



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Mob.

And the priest the taylor!—Good—good
—very good—


Doct.

Now you, who can afford no better, may
have but one suit of the same cut and fashion for
life; there's not a thread in it but appears to every
eye—you eat, you work, you sleep in the same;
and where it does not keep you warm, it will certainly
shew your nakedness.


Mob.

That's true, doctor—that's very true, indeed—and
ingenious.


Doct.

Well, what shall I say then to the religion
of your betters, but that it is cut out and
prank'd into infinite disguises? it seems fashioned
for the adorning of nature, but is used for the hiding
of deformities.—In the law, it is truely a long
suit, a suit whereof the lawyers have stript their clients;
behind the counter, it is a covering for knavery;
to the ass of state, it is a robe of solemnity; and
is, indeed, sincere in none, save your gallants of
the mode, who are themselves, as their dress,
things of shew, or—nothing.


Gubb.

Ha, ha, ha!—


Mob.

A wise man—a parlous wise man!—


Dolt.

But, doctor—


Doct.

Ay neighbour, what sayst?


Dolt.

Did this same Mahomet drop from the clouds?


Doct.

Marry, and that he did—while he was
snug at home, and asleep in his bed.


Dolt.

Now that's very straynge!


Mob.

Very straynge and wonderful!


Dolt.

Pray ye, what was this same Mahomet?



27

Doct.

Truely he was once a man of little
weight, a carrier of some light peddling fooleries;
but now he will carry you nineteen kingdoms upon
his own shoulders.


Mob.

Main strong—a main strong man!


Dolt.

But, doctor—


Doct.

Say it, good fellow.


Dolt.

Is he not—mercy on us—what call you
it, that tells all past fortunes?


Doct.

O, a prophet, a prophet—


Dolt.

Ay, what says the prophet? what says
he, pray you?


Doct.

That if you will not believe in his doctrine,
he will knock out thy brains—and that now
is marvellous, how he should know thou hast
any—


Mob.

He—he—he!—very marvellous; very
marvellous, indeed.


Dolt.

But have you any inkling of this Prophet's
doctrine, as they call it?


Doct.

Ay—there truly he comes near me, as it
were, in my own profession—He tells you that
the mind of man is subject to many diseases and
weaknesses.


Mob.

Ay, which be they, doctor? which be
they, good doctor?


Doct.

Even the weakness of your poor hearts,
that keep a foolish kindness for your neighbours;
a bit for the hungry, and a tear for the afflicted.


Mob.

Ay, heaven help us, we are wicked souls,
to be sure!—


Gubb.

Alas, good creatures—



28

Doct.

All these now he cures by contrary habits
and exercise: he teaches you to cut throats,
plunder houses, ravish maidens, sack towns, waste
provinces; and, when you are perfect in all these
virtues, he leads you to his own paradise, where you
are to rant, and drink, and whore, for ever.


Dolt.

Whoy!—Heaven may be vast koind in all
this, to be sure; but it goes sore against the grain
of us poor sinners.


Gubb.

This comes of your want of education,
my neighbours, which is a great misfortune to
you. Now we, who draw near to higher life,
as they call it, shall lack but little reformation.


Dolt.

But has he no arguments, doctor? One
would be glad to hear a little reason, as the saying
is.


[Drums and Trumpets.
Doct.

Here he comes—Do ye not hear reason
in the sound of his trumpets! Why, he has a hundred
thousand arguments at his back, the least of
which will decide against the keenest casuist in all
Arabia.