 | The Wizard |  |
Sce. 3.
Enter Clerimont, Antonio.Cler:
J say thou shalt be this southsayer, what wilt thou
loose a Lady of her wealth & beauty for want of a little
Legerdemaine?
Ant:
Shall J that never yet could faine a tear,
Nor mourn when that my Ladies dog was sick,
And be as witty as Catullus was
Jf that her Sparrow, Ape, or Monkey died
To whine out Elegies: or if the fates
Where pleas'd to spare the beasts, bring himns of joy,
Now turn jugler? O Simplicity!
Cler:
Hast thou not read the task that loue impos'd
Upon the Gods? how Joue did turn a Swan?
'Twere long to tell of Mars in Vulcanes net
Not so much tangled as with Venus haire;
Of Phœbus and his sisters lunacy,
Those eyes of heaven struck blind with earthly forms
And thinking them the brightest stars: O Loue
How the world wrong'd thee then to call thee boy,
Thou wert a Gyant then, but ever since
Hast lost thy strength, and dost degenerate
Jnto a dwarf, now, now thou art a boy;
How could this fondling else stand out so long
Against thy Deity?
Ant:
Peace, J am changd,
Jnto any shape thou'lt shift me, J am any thing
But that J am.
Cler:
Had J lou'd Cœlia
J would haue run through all disguise e're this
Anon, in an Jtalian dresse, appeare;
Next in the Spanish accent, garb, and state
Court my Madona; then turn Englishman,
And be all these in one; if still she stood out,
Last with Mustachoes like a Turbant Turk,
J would haue sworn by my Pendant Prophet
To make her Empresse of the heathen world,
Untill she weary of her womans name
Gaue to these arms her self a willing prey
But you are for simplicity!
Ant:
Prethee no more
J am transformd, Antonio's fled and gone,
Doe J appear like any such poor thing?
But as some misterious Oracle,
Full of ambiguous riddles; to morrow
J'le enquire after some empty house
Of certaine privacy, where J'le professe
The Mathematicks to the publick ear,
But privately some mercenary tongues
Shall giue me out to be a cunning man,
Which once arriv'd to Cœlia's itching ear
No thunder with more swiftnesse doth pursue
The place i'ts destin'd to, then her glad soule
Will fly unto my house, as to her heav'n.
Cler:
And for a trumpet for to sound thy name
Aboue thy worth, leaue that to me,
As they goe out Hog meets them & is staid by Clerimont.
Cler:
Hog hold thy hand, there's gold for thee, conster me
that.
At what time would you haue her Sir? presently
after, or before, or against bed time, or ith' morning about
cock-crowing.
Cler:
No, my nimble villaine, my Mercury, J must use your
long finger in your other vocation, thou must nim or borrow
me 12 spoons from the Lady Cœlia's Cook and reserue them
in thy boots till J call them to light;
Hog:
Jf J am apprehended J shall smoake to be sure.
Cler:
Credit me J'le saue thee from hanging.
Hog:
Doe but secure me and the spoons are yours;
Cler:
Such a buisy night would invite a theif to the gallowes
but J'le be your bayle if that you conveigh them neatly and
are not caught till J find occasion.
Hog:
'Tis no matter for that opportunity.
Cler:
To be taken shall be thy ransome rogue, what think'st
of that?
Hog:
Marry and that would be worth the seeing.
Exeunt.
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