 | Histrio-mastix. Or The Player whipt |  |
Actus 4.
Scæna 1.
Mauo.O pallid Enuie how thou suck'st my bloud,
And wastes my vitall spirits: I could raue,
Runne madde with anguish, for my slight respect,
O wher's the honour to my high borne bloud!
When euery peasant, each Plebeian,
Sits in the throne of vndeseru'd repute,
When euery Pedlers-French is term'd Monsignuer,
When broad-cloathd trades-man, and what lack you sir.
Is wrapt in riche habiliments of silke,
Whilst vrgent need makes Princes bend their knee,
As seruile as the ignobilitie,
To crouch for coyne, whilst slaues tye fast our Lands,
In Statute Staple, or these Marchants bands.
Bellu.
Wan ghostlike Enuie, spungeth vp my bloud,
Whil'st I behold yon halfe-fac'd Minion,
The daughter of some Cloues and Cinamon,
O, wher's the outward difference of our birth!
When each odde-mincing mistresse Citty-Dame,
Shall dare to bee as sumptuously adorn'd
With Iewels, chaines, and richest ornaments,
As wee from whom their Fathers held their land
In bond-slaues Tenure, and base villianage.
Vouch.
Why should you bubble of Nobility,
Yon shade of Man appropriate Epithetes.
Of noble, and right honorable, Sir,
To the blind Fortune of his happy birth?
Why should this reeling world (drunke with the iuice
Of Plenties bounty) giue such attribute
Of soueraigne title, place and dignity,
To that same swolne vp Lord, whom blinded chance,
Aboue his vertues merite doth aduance,
To high exalted state, whilst all repine,
To see our sweate rewarded, and our paine
Guerdond but with a single fee, an Angels gaine.
Champ.
God for his mercy, how yon Lady ietts,
And swoopes along in Persian royalty.
O, I could pine with Enuie, and consume
My heart in fowle disdaine, that she should strout,
And swell in ostentation of her birth,
Decking the curled tresses of her haire
With glittering ornaments, whilst I am pent
In nice respect of ciuill modesty:
Ile not indure it, Lawyers wiues shall shine,
Spight of the lawe, and all that dare repine.
Vel.
Drops of cold sweat hang on my fretting brow,
O, I could gnash my teeth, and whip my selfe,
Parboyle my liuer in this enuious heate
Of deepe repining Malice! I am vext,
Stung with a Viperous impatience,
That yon Nobility, yon Iohn a Stile,
Should sole possesse the throne of dignity,
Rich treasuries of gold, full stuft vp trunkes,
With all the fattest marrow of the land.
Should be debarr'd from types Maiesticall,
And liue like Æsops Asse: whilst our meane birth
Curbes our aspiring humours from the seate,
Of honours mounted state; I cannot sleepe,
My entrailes burne with scorne, that Merchandize,
Should stand and lick the pauement with his knee,
Bare-head and crouching to Nobility,
Though forfeited to vs be all their state,
Yet Enuie (still) my heart doth macerate.
Perp.
Gip Mistresse Madam, and French-hood intaild
Vnto a Habeas Corpus: Iesu God,
How proud they iet it, and must I giue wall?
And bend my body to their Mistresse-ships,
O husband, I am sick, my cheeke is pale
With---
Uel.
With what my sweete?
Perp.
With Enuie, which no Physick can preuent;
Shall I still stand an abiect in the eye,
Of faire respect, not mounted to the height
To the top gallant of o're-peering state,
That with Elated lookes of Maiestie,
I may out face the proud pild Eminence,
Of this same gilded Madam Bellula,
And yon same Ione a Noke, chain'd Champertie?
Vel.
Content thee wife; the tide of Royalty,
Shall onely flowe into our Merchandize,
The gulphe of our Ambition shall deuoure
All the supports of honour, lands and plate,
Rich minerall Iewels, sumptuous pallaces,
All shall be swallow'd by the yawning mouth
Of hungry Auarice. Thus I plotted it,
You see Mauortius stormie brow portends,
Tempestuous whirle-windes of tumultuous armes,
Then troupe the gallants to our wealthy shops.
To take vp rich apparrell, pawne their land,
To puffe vp Prides swolne bulke with plumy showes,
Then, when the Actions expectation flags,
And fills not vp the mouth of gaping hope,
To vs returnes the mal'contented youth,
And for the furnishment of one suite more,
All, all, is ours, Iewells, plate and Lands,
Al take cariere into the Marchants hands,
Then come, withdraw, and coole thy enuious heate,
My pollicy shall make thy hopes repleate.
Exeunt Velu. and Perpetu.
Camp.
And shall I still (deere Vourcher) sit below,
Giue place to Madams and these citty dames,
O, how my enuy at their glory flames.
Vour.
Be patient but a while (sweete Campertie,)
And I will make the world doe fealty,
To thy exalted State: the Law shall stand,
Like to a waxen nose, or Lesbian rule,
A diall Gnomon, or a wethercocke,
Turn'd with the breath of greatnesse euery way,
On whose incertaintie, our certaine ground
Of towring hight shall stand inuincible:
The Dubious Law shall nurse dissention,
Which being pamper'd with our feeding helpes,
Wee'le swell in greatnesse and our pallace Towers
Shall pricke the ribs of Heauen with proud height:
Then let thy Enuy cease, since thy high fate,
Shall not discerne a fortune more Elate.
Exeunt Vour. and Champ.
Bel.
So with what slight respect they passe from vs,
Not giuing to our birth's their due saluts,
O Deerest Lord! shall high borne Bellula!
Be suncke, and thus obscur'd by the proud shine,
Of yon sophisticate base Alcumie,
That durt vsurpes the orbe, where you should shine.
Mau.
Content thee sweet, the lightning of my armes,
Shall purge the aire of these grosse foggy clouds,
That doe obscure our births bright radiance,
When Iron Mars mounts vp his plumy Crest,
The Law and Merchandize in rust may rest,
Then Euy cease; for e're the Sonne shall set,
Ile buckle on Mauortius burganet.
Exeunt Mauo. and Bell.
Enter Chrisoganus solus.
Chri.
Summa petit liuor, perflant altissima venti,
Then poore Chrisoganus, who'le enuy thee,
Whose dusky fortune hath no shining glosse
That Enuies breath can blast? O I could curse
This ideot world! This ill nurs'd age of Peace,
That foster all saue vertue; comforts all
Sauing industrious art, the soules bright gemme,
That crussheth downe the sprowting stemmes of Art,
Blasts forward wits with frosty cold contempt,
Crowning dull clodds of earth with honours,
Wreath guilding the rotten face of barbarisme
With the vnworthy shine of Eminence.
O! I could wish my selfe consum'd in aire,
When I behold these huge fat lumpes of flesh,
These big-bulkt painted postes, that sencelesse
Ssand, to haue their backes pasted with dignity,
Quite choaking vp all passage to respect:
These huge Colossi that rowle vp and downe,
And fill vp all the seate of man with froth
Of outward semblance, whilst pale Artizans
Pine in the shades of gloomy Academes,
Faint in pursuite of vertue, and quite tierd
For want of liberall food: for liberall Art
Giue vp the goale to sluggish Ignorance.
Poore foole, leaue prating, enuy not their shine,
Who still will florish, though great Fate repine.
Exit.
Enter Belsh, Gulsh, Gutt, and Clowt with an Ingle.
Gul.
Iacke of the Clock-house, wher's Maister Post-hast?
Bel.
In my booke for Slow-pace, twelue-pence on's pate, for staying so late.
Gut.
Prologue begin; rehearse '&c.
Gentlemen in this enuious age we bring Bayard
For Bucephalus: if mierd, bogg'd,
Draw him forth with your fauours,
So promising that we neuer meane to performe
Our Prologue peaceth.
Gul.
Peaceth? what peaking Pagenter pend that?
Bel.
Who but Maister Post-hast.
Gut.
It is as dangerous to read his name at a playe-dore
As a printed bill on a plague dore.
Gul.
You weare the hansom'st compast hilt I haue seene;
Ingle.
Doth this fashion like my friend so well.
Bel.
So well I meane to weare it for your sake.
Ingle.
I can deny thee nothing if I would.
Gul.
Fie how this Ingling troubles our rehearsall: say on.
Gut.
Fellow Belsh you haue found a haunt at my house
You must belch and breath your spirits some where else.
Bel.
Iealious of me with your seate for Maister Iohn,
Gut.
When the door's shut the signe's in Capricorne
Clow.
Then you might heaue the latch vp with your horne
Gul.
This Cockoldly coyle hinders our rehearsall.
Gut.
Ile teare their turret toppes,
Ile beat their Bulwarcks downe,
Ile rend such Raskalls form their ragges,
And whippe them out of towne.
Bel.
Patience (my Lord) your fury strayes too farre.
Gul.
Stay sirs, rehearse no farther then you are
Gutt.
Haue I er'e a good humour in my part?
Gull.
Thou hast neere a good one out of thy part;
Bell.
Ile play the conquering King that likes me best,
Gutt.
Thou play the cowardly knaue; thou dost but ieast,
Clou.
Halfe a share, halfe a shirt, a Comedian
A hole share, or turne Cameleon.
Gull.
Well sirs, the gentlemen see into our trade,
We cannot gull them with browne-paper stuffe,
And the best Poets growne so enuious
They'le starue rather then we get store of mony.
Gut.
Since dearth of Poets lets not players liue by wit
To spight them lets to warres, and learne to vse a spit.
Clout.
O excellent ill a spit to rost a rime.
Gutt.
Twill serue you to remember dinner time.
Bell.
Thats true tis time, let's away.
Exeunt.
| Histrio-mastix. Or The Player whipt | |