University of Virginia Library

SCENE, An Antichamber in the Palace.
Enter Rigdum-Funnidos, and Aldiborontiphoscophornio.
Rigdum-Funnidos.
Aldiborontiphoscophornio!
Where left you Chrononhotonthologos?

Aldiborontiphoscophornio.
Fatigu'd with the tremendous Toils of War,
Within his Tent, on downy Couch succumbent,
Himself he unfatigues with gentle Slumbers;
Lull'd by the chearful Trumpets gladsome Clangor,
The Noise of Drums and Thunder of Artillery,
He sleeps Supine amidst the Din of War;
And yet 'tis not definitively Sleep;
Rather a kind of Doze, a waking Slumber,
That sheds a Stupefaction o'er his Senses;
For now He nods and snores; anon he starts,
Then nods and snores again: If this be Sleep,
Tell me, ye Gods! what mortal Man's awake!
What says my Friend to this?

Rigdum-Funnidos.

—Say! I say he sleeps Dog-sleep, what a Plague
wou'd you have me say?

Aldiboronti.
O impious Thought! O curst Insinuation!
As if great Chrononhotonthologos
To Animals detestable and vile,
Had ought the least Similitude!

Rigdum.

My dear Friend! you entirely misapprehend
me; I did not call the King, Dog by Craft, I was
only going to tell you the Soldiers have just receiv'd
their Pay, and are all as drunk as so many
Swabbers.

Aldiboronti.
Give Orders instantly, that no more Money
Be issued to the Troops: Mean time, my Friend!
Let all the Baths be fill'd with Seas of Coffee,
To stupify their Souls into Sobriety.

Rigdum.

I fancy you had better banish the Sutlers, and
blow the Geneva Casks to the Devil.

Aldiboronti.
Thou Counsell'st well, my Rigdum Funnidos,
And Reason seems to father thy Advice:
But soft.—The King in pensive Contemplation
Seems to resolve on some Important Doubt;
His Soul, too copious for his Earthly Fabrick,
Starts forth, spontaneous, in Soliloquy,
And makes his Tongue the Midwife of his Mind,
Let us retire, lest we disturb his Solitude.

[They retire.
Enter King.
This God of Sleep is watchful to torment me,
And Rest is grown a Stranger to my Eyes:
Sport not with Chrononhotonthologos,
Thou idle Slumb'rer, thou detested Somnus:
For if thou dost, by all the waking Pow'rs
I'll tear thine Eye-balls from their Leaden-sockets,
And force thee to outstare Eternity.

[Exit in a great Huff.
Re-enter Rigdum and Aldiboronti.
Rigdum.

—The King's in a cursed Passion: Pray who is
this Mr. Somnus he's so angry withall?

Aldiboronti.
The Son of Chaos and of Erebus.
Incestuous Pair! Brother of Mors relentless,
Whose speckled Robe, and Wings of blackest hue,
Astonish all Mankind with hideous Glare;
Himself with Sable Plumes, to Men benevolent,
Brings downy Slumbers and refreshing Sleep.

Rigdum-Fun.

The Gentleman may come of a very good Family,
for ought I know, but I wou'd not be in his
Place for the World.

Aldiboronti.
But lo! the King, his Footsteps this way bending
His Cogitative faculties immers'd
In Cogibundity of Cogitation;
Let Silence close our folding Doors of Speech,
'Till apt Attention tell our Heart the Purport,
Of this profound Profundity of Thought.

Re-enter King and Attendants.
King.
—It is resolv'd—Now Somnus I defy thee
And from Mankind ampute thy curs'd Dominion.
These Royal Eyes thou never more shalt close.
Henceforth let no Man sleep on pain of Death.
Instead of Sleep, let pompous Pageantry
Keep all Mankind eternally awake.
Bid Harlequino decorate the Stage,
With all Magnificence of Decoration:
Giants and Giantesses, Dwarfs and Pigmies,
Songs, Dances, Music in its amplest Order,
Mimes, Pantomimes and all the magic Motion
Of Scene Deceptiovisive and Sublime
An Entertainment of Singing here, after the Italian Manner, by Signor Scacciatinello, and Signora Sicarina.
Enter Captain of the Guards.
—To Arms! to Arms! great Chrononhotonthologos,
Th'Antipodean Pow'rs from Realms below,
Have burst the solid Entrails of the Earth.
Gushing such Cataracts of Forces forth,
This World is too incopious to contain 'em:
Armies, on Armies, march in Form stupendous;
Not like our Earthly Legions, Rank by Rank,
But Teer o'er Teer, high pil'd from Earth to Heaven:
A blazing Bullet, Bigger than the Sun,
Shot from a huge and monstrous Culverin,
Has laid your Royal Citadel in Ashes.

King.
Peace Coward! were they wedg'd like Golden Ingots,
Or pent so close, as to admit no Vacuum.
One look from Chrononhotonthologos
Shall scare them into Nothing. Rigdum Funnidos,
Bid Bombardinion draw his Legions forth,
And meet us in the Plains of Queerumania.
This very now ourselves shall there conjoin him;
Mean Time, bid all the Priests prepare their Temples
For Rites of Triumph: Let the Singing Singers,
With vocal Voices, most Vociferous,
In sweet Vociferation, out vociferize
Ev'n Sound itself; So be it as we have order'd.

Exeunt.