 | Fancy's Festivals |  |
Actus tertius
Scœn. 1.
Enter at one door Mr. Frolick, at the other Mrs. Friendly.Frolick.
Madam?
Friendly.
Sir, what are you?
Frol.
Do you not know me?
Even so fair Mistris Friendly.
Friend.
Fair and Friendly are two good Epithites.
Frol.
Better then foul and froward; I am one of those
that had rather embrace lovely levity, then divine deformity;
a tractable vice prevails with me more then a tyrannical
vertue; I do not much affect the grim goodness of honesty,
when it looks ugly.
Friend.
You want no words to express your wantonness.
Frol.
Nor deeds to direct my devotion to so sweet a Saint
as thou art.
Friend.
You breath nothing but Musk and Amber, these
are fine Civit sentences.
Frol.
Such Altars as this (my dear) must not want Incense.
Friend.
Especially when honor is the Sacrifice, but I must
leave ye.
Frol.
I'de rather you would love me.
Friend.
So I do.
Frol.
How shall I know that?
Friend.
You must make it the object of your faith, for
your reason will never reach it.
Frol.
No matter if my sence can.
Friend.
What sence?
Frol.
Such a sence as cannot miss your apprehension.
Friend.
I shall easier understand you, then answer you:
Love you! that have as many Mistresses as there be minutes in
a month, that hath vow'd affection to all gradations, from
the lofty Lady to the limber Lawndress, from Cloth of Bodkin
to Lindsey-woolsey, from the Court Curtezan to the
Sun-burnt Suburbian? and from 16. to 60. as they press
Souldiers in Scotland?
Frol.
Do you know what you say?
Friend.
Some are of opinion, that the exact Catalogue of
thy Mistresses, would supernumerate the Common-Place
Books of a Registers Office.
Frol.
You are invective.
Friend.
Tis verily believed, that thou hast undone three
poor Parishes with Cradles, Milk and Swadling-clouts.
Frol.
How many Servants have you had pray?
Friend.
Some two or three whining fellows which were
quickly mortified with my answers.
Frol.
They speak modestly that say betwixt the ages of 15.
but others who would bring these lesser Items to a
sum total, believe you have had as many received Suiters as
would raise a Royal Army against the Grand Siegnior, and
leave a close Siege about Constantinople.
Frol.
That's a lye beyond all limitation.
Frol.
That Messalina the Roman Empress wil be esteemed
a Virgin, when you appear in the ballance of comparison.
Friend.
Fye, fye.
Frol.
To conclude your commendations, they say the four
quarters of the world are but your Diocess, and all the Nations
which divided at the fall of Babel, have attempted to
reunite themselvs in you affection.
Friend.
How many Ladies have you inveigled with this
kind of Courtship.
Frol.
Not enow to vye numbers with the Common-place
Books of a Registers Office.
Friend.
Nor to serve your Constantinople Leaguer with
Lawndresses, my memory shall record your expressions, when
it may be you would be glad to sue for composition, and
give all the Coyn in your Counting-house for an Act of oblivion.
So fare ye well Sir.
Frol.
No, no, you are not gone yet, for although I cannot
stop the volubility of your tongue, I can stay the celebrity
of your heels.
Friend.
But not the activity of my hands, if you abuse me
thus.
Frol.
You will not fight.
Friend.
I cannot promise you, 'tis not the rude Reputation
you have amongst your fellow Hectors, your Seas of
Sink-mee's, nor Artillery of Dam-mee's can defend you from
my fury, when you provoke me thus in point of Honor.
Frol.
Prethee good Frank put thy patience in practice, and
let me kiss thee into composition; for all my expressions, I
know thou art as vertuous as the Queen of beauty, lovely as
Lais, and as chaste as Phryne.
Friend.
Thank ye, one was a whore in Petty-france, and
the other two Pick-pockets in Bloomesbury.
Frol.
Oh fye on thee, they were all Princes, and dy'd 1000.
years ago.
The matter is not great, I shall rather accept of
your single assertion, then tire my head to turn over your
lascivious library, to find the truth on't; therefore pray release
my hand, and give my feet their freedom.
Frol.
To do what?
Friend.
To leave the vanity of your company, and pursue
my occasion.
Frol.
Whither?
Friend.
You shall not be my Secretary in that.
Frol.
But I will before you or your secrets go out of my
handling
Friend.
You will not be rude.
Frol.
Wither do you go?
Friend.
I will not tell you.
Frol.
Then you shall go with me to a place where welcom
shall present it self to you in comly company, divers dishes,
brisk wine, melodious Musick, sprightly Songs, dapper attendance,
no Reckning, and where all your sences shall be
feasted if they could multiply from 5. to 50. where sensuality
is sublimate, Liberty dances a Lavalto, and Concupiscence
cuts cross-capers.
Friend.
In what part of the world is this Pagan Paradise?
Frel.
I'le tell thee the occasion, you know Jack Chowse?
Friend.
He whom the Hectors fight Duels about?
Frol.
The same; This is his birth-day, this very minute
he writes twenty one, and is of age to challenge the valiant
Inheritance of three thousand pounds per annum; he begins
his reign to night, therefore cancel all your occasions, and
go with me to the Coronation: Such a Tavern-Jubilee you
shall not see agen these 50. years.
Friend.
Whose with you?
Frol.
Onely some of his Nobility Phil Frantick, Jack
Rant, Tom Terrible, and I.
Friend.
What women have you?
Frol.
None, that I know, thou shalt be Queen of the Festivals,
and I'le be Lord of Misrule.
Friend.
I cannot go, but heark you.
Whisper.
Frol.
Will you be sure?
Friend
How often have I fail'd you.
Exit.
1.
Within.
A Health, a health, a health, a health.
No, no, I'le have a Song, I'le have a Song.
Frol.
As I live they are at it.
A noyse of clinking pots, and ringing a Bar-bel.
Within.
By and by, by and by, anon, anon Sir.
Within.
A quart of Claret ith' Coxcomb, score.
Frol.
When Coxcombs come of Age the Taverns roar.
A SONG.
1. Voyce.
'Tis a joviall day,
let our Cups and Cash be free,
Beer and Ale are both
But the sons of sloth,
let us then in wine agree,
To taste a quart
Of every sort,
the thinner and the thicker,
That spight of chance
We may advance
the nobler and the quicker,
Who shall by vote
Of every throat,
be crown'd the King of Liquor.
2. Voyce.
Bloody Aligant,
shall have no free vote of mine.
Claret is a Prince,
And he did long since,
In the royall order shine,
His face is spread
With sprightly red,
and so be loves to see men,
Where he bears sway,
His subjects they
shall be as good as Freeman.
But here's the blot,
Almost forgot,
He's too much burn'd by women.
Is a valiant Vine,
that can all our veyns replenish,
Let us then consent,
To the Government,
and the Royal Rule of Rhenish,
The German Wine,
Will warm the Chine,
and frisk in every veyn,
'Twill make the Bride,
Forbear to chide,
and call him to't again;
But that's not all,
He's much too small,
to be our Soveraign.
4. Voyce.
Of a nobler Drink
then with votes advanced high,
Let us all proclaim
Good Canary's name,
Heaven bless his Majesty,
He is a King
In every thing,
whose nature doth renownce ill,
He'l make us skip,
And nimbly trip,
from the seeling to the Groundcill,
Especially
When Poets be
Lords of the Privy Councill.
5. Voyce.
Will his Taster be,
there is no man that can him let,
And a Drawer that
Hath a good Pallat,
The Barr-boyes shall,
Be Pages all,
a Tavern well prepar'd,
In joviall sort
Shall be his Court,
where nothing may be spar'd;
Wine-Porters shall,
VVith shoulders tall,
be Yeomen of the Guard.
6. Voyce.
With a Red-nose see,
but in any part oth' Town
That same Cooper shall,
With his Adds Royall,
be the Keeper of the Crown,
Young wits that wash
Away their Cash
in wine and Recreation,
That hate dull Beer,
Are welcome here,
to give their approbation,
Chorus.
That will allow
Canary's Coronation.
The Scene discovers five Hectors and a young Heyr, all with Pots, Pipes, and Glasses in their hands, they dismount and dance; after some Changes Mrs. Friendly comes in, Frolick speaks.
Frol.
She's come, she's come, now I love thee.
Friend.
You will, when you know what I have done to
advance your jollity.
Frol.
Prithee what?
Friend.
I'le tell you, Madam Fancy lay in lately, and I
very abruptly came just now from the Gossips feast, there is
Mrs. Obscene the Midwife, Mrs. Luscious the Confectioners
wife, Mrs. Light the Feathermakers, and Mrs. Prattle the Lawyers,
protesting, the Midwife hath almost got a rattle already, and
talks at such a rate 'twould make thee blush to hear her.
Frol.
And that's much you'l say.
Friend.
They are come from home to conclude in the
Tavern, ther's but this wainscot partition betwixt you, which
being dexterously removed (by a pair of drawers) the Scene
will be discovered, and you may joyn companies.
All.
Agreed, agreed.
1.
Here's to you Gossip.
Gossips within.
2.
Thank ye good Gossip.
3.
Mother my service to you.
4.
Thank you good daughter.
1.
Pray wind up your bottom.
2.
A Diamond of that bigness: where's Mrs. Friendly?
Frind.
Heark, de' ye hear 'um, I'le be gone, they call for
me, remember my instructions.
All.
I warrant ye.
SONG by Gossips..
1.
Come let us be merry,Till wine make us weary,
'Twill fright away Sullens and Chollicks,
Let Husbands rake Riches,
We'l reach at their Breeches,
And spend an odd remnant in frollicks.
Lively let's drink about,
And be as jocund as may be,
Let men wast wealth about,
We'l drink this Health about,
To the good wife and her Baby.
2.
Let's drink our Sack away,Some say 'twill take away
Every cold swelling and tumor,
And my Husband do rail,
I'le tell him Tom-fool 'tis my humor.
We'l twittle and twattle,
This glass of Canary we'l toss up,
Let none of us spill it,
But drink as we fill it,
For 'tis a good Health to my Gossip.
The Scene being drawn, the Gossips are discovered.
Frol.
As I live pure company, Ladies shall we prevail with
you to mix societies?
Friend.
I have acquainted these Ladies with your desires,
and they are well contented to mingle in a Dance with you.
Frol.
Come Gentlemen, fit your selvs, here am I.
They Dance and turn into the Scene. Manent Frolick and Friendly.
Friend.
Faith Mr. Frolick I see what you drive at.
Frol.
Well, well, no more, we'l talk the rest in private.
| Fancy's Festivals | |