University of Virginia Library

Scene changes.
Enter Ocypus, who discovers the Chorus before a Temple offering Sacrifices to the Gout, with Musick and Dancing. Dance.
Ocyp.
—But who are they, whose Hands with Crutches fill'd,
Whose tossing Heads with Eldern Garlands bound,
Seem in wild Dance some Feast to celebrate?
Do they to thee, Apollo, Pæns sing?
Then wou'd the Delphick Laurel shade their Brows.
Or chant they rather Bacchanalian Hymns?
Then wou'd their Temples be with Ivy wreath'd.
Whence are ye, Strangers? speak: the Truth declare.
Declare, O Friends, what Deity ye worship.

Cho.
But who art thou, that mak'st us this Demand?
Thou too, as from thy Crutch may be inferr'd,
And hobbling Pace, thou art a Votary
Of the Invincible Divinity.

Ocyp.
I am; nor am unworthy of the Name.

Chorus.

Ocyp.
Say by what Rites mysterious to her Altar
Doth the dread Pow'r her Votaries admit?

Cho.
Nor with the biting Steel ourselves we wound,
Or sprinkle with our Blood the hallow'd Ground:
Nor are our Necks with galling Collars worn;
Or livid Backs with sounding Scourges torn:
Nor at the Altar, when the Victim dies,
Gorge we the raw and bleeding Sacrifice:
But when the Spring the rising Sap impells,
And the young Elm with genial Moisture swells,
When in the Hedges on the budding Spray
The Blackbird modulates her various Lay:
Then unperceiv'd she drives her piercing Dart,
And wounds the inmost Sense with secret Smart;
The Hip, the nervous Thigh, the Ankles swell,
The bending Knee, and firm supporting-Heel:
The strong-knit Shoulder and the sinewy Arm,
And Hand mechanick feel th'intestine Harm,
Thro' ev'ry Joint the thrilling Anguish pours,
And gnaws, and burns, and tortures, and devours;
Till Length of Suff'ring the dire Pow'r appease,
And the fierce Torments at her bidding cease.

Ocyp.
Unweeting then her Votary am I:
Thou, Goddess, gentle and benign, approach!
And I, with these thy Vot'ries, will begin
Thy sacred, solemn, customary Song.

[Dance.
Chorus.
Thou Air, be still, thou, Sky serene;
Thy Groans, thou, gouty Wretch, forbear,
Propt on her Staff, behold the Queen
Deigns at our Altars to appear!

[The Goddess of the Gout descends or enters.
Chorus.
Hail! gentlest of the heav'nly Pow'rs!
Propitious on thy Servants smile;
And grant in Spring's fermenting Hours
A quick Deliv'rance from our Toil.

Godd.
Lives there on Earth to whom I am unknown,
Unconquerable Queen of mighty Woes?
Whom nor the fuming Censer can appease,
Nor Victim's Blood on blazing Altars pour'd.
Me not Apollo's Self with all his Drugs,
High Heav'n's divine Physician, can subdue;
Nor his learn'd Son, wife Æsculapius.
Yet ever since the Race of Man begun,
All have essay'd my Fury to repell,
Racking th'Invention of still-baffled Physick.
Some this Receipt 'gainst me, some that explore.
Plantane they bruise, the Parsley's odorous Herb,
The lenient Lettice, and the Purslain wild.
These bitter Horehound, and the watry Plant
That on the verdant Banks of Rivers grows;
Those Nettles crush, and Comfrey's viscid Root,
And pluck the Lentils in the standing Pools.
Some Parsnips, some the glossy Leaf apply
That shades the downy Peach, benumming Henbane,
The Poppies soothing Gum, th'emollient Bulb,
Rind of the Punick Apple, Fleawort hot,
The costly Frankincense, and searching Root
Of potent Hellebore, soft Fenugreek
Temper'd with Rosy Wine, Collamphacum,
Nitre and Spawn of Frogs, the Cypress-Cone,
And Meal of bearded Barley, and the Leaf
Of Colworts unprepar'd, and Ointments made
Of pickled Garus, and (O vain Conceit!)
The Dung of Mountain-Goats, and human Ordure,
The Flow'r of Beans, and hot Sarcophagus.
The pois'nous Ruddock some, and Shrew-Mouse boil,
The Weasel some, the Frog, the Lizard green,
The fell Hyæna, and the wily Fox,
And branching Stone-buck bearded like a Goat.
What kind of Metals have ye left untry'd?
What Juice? what weeping Tree's medic'nal Tear?
What Beasts? what Animals have not bestow'd
Their Bones, or Nerves, or Hides, or Blood, or Marrow,
Or Milk, or Fat, or Excrement, or Urine?
The Draught of Four Ingredients some compose,
Some Eight, but more from Seven expect Relief;
Some from the purging Hiera seek their Cure,
On mystick Verses vainly some depend;
The tricking Jew gulls other Fools with Charms;
While to the cooling Fountains others fly,
And in the crystal Current seek for Health.
But to all these fell Anguish I denounce,
To all who tempt me ever more severe.
But they who patiently my Visit take,
Nor seek to combat me with Anodynes,
Still find me gentle and benevolent.
For in my Rites whoe'er participates,
His Tongue with Eloquence I straight endow,
And teach him with facetious Wit to please,
A merry, gay, jocose Companion boon:
Round whom the noisy Croud incessant laugh,
As to the Baths the crippled Wretch is borne.
For that dire Até, of whom Homer sings,
That dreaded pow'rfull Deity am I:
Who on the Heads of Men insulting tread,
And silent, soft, and unobserv'd approach.
But as from me the acid Drop descends,
The Drop of Anguish, I the Gout am call'd.
Now then, my Vot'ries all, my Orgies sing,
And praise with Hymns th'unconquerable Goddess.

Chorus.

Enter Messenger with two Mountebanks bound.
Mes.
O! Mistress, opportunely art thou met.
Attend; no vain or idle Tale I bring.
But well supported by authentick Facts.
As thro' the Town (for so thou didst enjoin)
With slow and gentle Pace I lately rang'd;
Searching if haply I might chance to find
A Mortal bold enough to brave thy Pow'r;
There quiet all, and patient I beheld,
Subdu'd, O Goddess, by thy mighty Arm.
All but these two presumptuous daring Wretches,
Who to the gaping Crowd with Oaths deny'd
To pay due Reverence to thy Deity,
Boasting that they wou'd banish thee from Earth:
Wherefore with Fetters strong their Legs I bound
And after five Days March have brought them hither,
A weary March of twice Five hundred Feet.

Godd.
Swift hast thou come, my winged Messenger,
Say, from what Regions, thro' what rugged Paths,
Hast thou thy tedious longsome Way pursu'd?
Explain, that I may comprehend thy Speed?

Mes.
Five Stairs, whose weak and dislocated Frame
Trembled beneath my Tread, descending down,
First to the level Pavement I arriv'd,
That 'gainst my Feet its jarring Surface turn'd;
Which having with uneasy Footsteps cross'd,
I enter'd next the rough and flinty Street,
Whose pointed Stones the Gouty Foot abhors:
Here meeting with a smooth, tho' slipp'ry Path,
I hurried on, but with back-sliding Haste,
The trodden Slime my tott'ring Ankle turn'd.
Thus as I journey'd, down on ev'ry Side
The streaming Sweat descended, and my Legs
Faint and relax'd no longer firmly trod.
Thence lab'ring in each Limb, and overtoil'd,
A broad, but dang'rous Way receiv'd me next:
For on each Hand the whirling Chariots flew,
And urg'd, and press'd, and drove me faster on:
But I with nimble Action ply'd my Feet,
And quick into an Alley stept aside,
Till ev'ry rattling hasty Wheel was pass'd.
For, as to thee, O Goddess, I belong'd,
Thy Votary, I ought not, cou'd not run.

Godd.
Servant, thou hast not well perform'd in vain,
Nor shall thy prompt Obedience want Reward.
In Recompence this pleasing Boon receive,
Three Years of light and gentler Pains to bear.
But ye, most impious Heav'n-abandon'd Villains,
What and whence are ye, that so proudly dare
The Lists to enter with the mighty Gout,
Whose Pow'r not Jove himself can overcome?
Speak, Wretches—Many a Hero have I tam'd,
As all the wise and learn'd can testify.
Priam was gouty, as old Poets sing,
And by the Gout the swift Achilles fell.
Bellerophon, and Thebes' unhappy Lord,
The mighty Oedipus, my Prowess own'd,
And, of maim'd Pelops' Race, young Plisthenes.
He too, who led to Troy his warriour Bands,
The halting Son of Pæas, felt my Dart,
And by my Dart the Lord of Ithaca,
Not by the pois'nous Trygon's Bone expir'd.
Wherefore, ill-fated Wretches, be assur'd,
Your wicked Deeds shall meet their due Reward.

1st Mo.
Syrians we are, in fair Damascus born,
But urg'd by Want and hungry Poverty,
O'er Earth and Sea like Vagabonds we roam,
And with this Ointment, which our Father gave,
We comfort and relieve the Sick and Lame.

Godd.
What is your Ointment, say, and how prepar'd?

2d Mo.
We dare not tell, to Secrecy oblig'd
Both by the solemn Oath of our Profession,
And last Injunctions of a dying Father;
Who charg'd us to conceal the pow'rfull Virtue
Of this our Med'cine, whose strong Efficacy,
O Gout, can e'en thy madding Fires allay.

Godd.
Ha! miserable Wretches, say ye so?
Is there on Earth a Med'cine, whose Effect
My Pow'r is not sufficient to controul?
Come on, upon this Issue let us join.
Let us experience now the Prevalence
Of your strong Med'cine or my raging Flames.
Hither, tormenting Spirits, who preside
O'er my distracting Sorrows, hither come.

Spirits descend.
Godd.
Thou from the tender Sole to ev'ry Toe
Round all the Foot the burning Anguish spread.
Thou in the Heel shalt settle, from the Thigh
Thou on the Knee shalt pour the bitter Drop.
And each of you a Finger shall torment.

Spi.
Behold, O Queen, thy Orders are perform'd.
See! where the Wretches maim'd and roaring lie,
Their Limbs distorted with our fierce Attack.

Godd.
Now, Friends, inform us of the Truth; declare
If ought your boasted Ointment now avail.
For if my Forces it indeed subdue,
Far, to the dark Recesses of the Earth,
The Depths profound of Tartarus I'll fly,
Henceforth unknown, unhonour'd, and unseen.

1st Mo.
Behold the Ointment is apply'd! but, oh!
The Flames relent not. Oh! I faint, I die!
A secret Poison all my Leg consumes.
Not so pernicious is the Bolt of Jove:
Nor rages so the wild tempestuous Sea:
Nor more resistless is the Lightning's Blast.
Sure three-mouth'd Cerberus my Sinews gnaws:
Or on my Flesh some pois'nous Viper preys;
Or to my Limbs th'envenom'd Mantle clings,
Drench'd in the Centaur's black malignant Gore!
O Queen, have Mercy! freely we acknowledge
That, nor our Ointment, nor ought else on Earth,
Thy unresisted Fury can restrain,
O mighty Conqueress of human Kind!

Ocyp.
“I too, O potent Goddess, Grace implore.
“Once in the wanton Pride of vig'rous Youth,
“Vain of my beauteous Limbs, and active Strength
“I mock'd thy Dolours, and thy Pow'r defy'd.
“But now chastis'd by thy afflictive Arm,
“And by thy nearer Influence subdu'd,
“My impious Vaunts, O Goddess, I retract,
“Adore thy Might, and deprecate thy Wrath.”

Godd.
Spirits, forbear, and mitigate their Woes.
See they repent 'em of the dire Contention.
Now let the World confess my stubborn Pow'r,
Nor mov'd by Pity, nor by Drugs subdu'd.

Goddess and Spirits re-ascend.]
Cho.

[Dance.
Cho.