 | The Wizard |  |
ACTUS 1m u s
Scena 1m a,
Enter Sebastian, Clerimont.Cle:
Sebastian perswade me not, J will goe to her and sett
open the hospitall of his aches, gouts, palseys, apoplexes;
whorson old goat must he be rank at these years.
Seb.
But he is thy Father, you ought to reverence the name,
although the person were never so despicable.
Cle:
Prithee tell me is there any reason that a thing not able
to trusse or untrusse his hose should doat upon a Lady,
Hercules at one & twenty could but content: one that (if he
hath her) will lay her hand betwixt his garlick kisse & her
mouth, & lie at the foot of the bed & salute his toes rather
then his lips; Js it to be suffer'd?
Seb.
Why this should vex me more then you, he is my
rivall.
Cle:
Jf he doth not breath a palsie into her mouth shall shake
out all her teeth within this week J'le hang. We shal haue
them shortly dance like Virginall jacks: he hath a breath
will fetch off all her complexion worse then a seacoal fire:
he waits for my Elder Brother home from the University to
Court man forsooth for fear of rescues of Gentlemen from
Serjants.
Seb:
Protest you wrong him, J haue heard fame loves him,
and is loud in his commendations.
Cle:
For what?
Seb:
For his gentleman like de«portment cheifly, nor» are
his other faculties whisper'd.
Cle:
Gentleman like! what Gentleman like? he ne're kept
horse nor hounds their, you might as soon haue gott him to
the Gallowes as to the steeling of a dear, 'twas much he
would weare a Round crown'd hat or silk stockings, now he
is at London you shall haue him in the twelve penny Room
at playhouses, n'ere set on the Stage, & her 's his Gentleman
like Deportment.
Seb:
You'r i'th traducing humour and care not whose fame
you blast; but faith let me stop your intended journey about
your Father, he affords us excellent mirth, and Gentlewomen
delight much to converse with him.
Cle:
Jf your finikin Lady knew but all, shee'd casheir him
streight.
Seb:
Nay Clerimont touch not the Ladies name, my ears
must not hear blasphemy against her and be my ears, J know
braine when he was big with Pallas.
Cle:
Nay she is Minerva is she not? O Loue what a company
of Kitchen maydes hast thou Deified? hark thee thou Poeticall
Dreamer, hast not thou toucht that peice of Divinity yet? can
that ticklish flesh of yours come neer this spirit, and not stand
upright, ha? if it can then J'le sweare she breaths pure Vesta.
Seb:
Why friend J doe not so unwoman her
as to repute her without naturall heat:
no frozen clime expells this fire; nay where
the Sun a stranger is, this heat is known,
but friend she hath not ill improv'd her stock
Nor added to ye flash of youthfull blood
Unnecessary flame; but when nature
Js high and active, then she helps it not
To the degree unlawfull is: her face
Js faire without a Fucus, so her blood
Hot without lust.
Cle:
Prethee then tell me what steame it is brings all these
flies, these Sutors, her retinew is more numerous then Hellens
or Penelopes; why doth she license revells, plays, and masks?
can all this be out of pure loue, pure affection, not a thought,
not a spice of the right ingredient; hath her simple fancy no
composition?
Seb:
Her sweet behaviour as a potent charme
At once spurs on and bridles our affections
This makes us to express in divers shapes
One thing, Observance. Some think to catch her ear
Jn a sweet cloze of Musick: J her tast
With natures bravery, and tempting meats.
A third by masks laies seige unto her eye,
And thinks himself the boy that danceth there.
All which she makes the trophies of her mind,
And tells the Stoick he may admitt
Pleasure before him.
Cle:
But your stage-play hath an insinuation beyond all
this: J have gon away sometime an excellent Courtier,
sometimes an admirable Souldier, and now and then half
a Doctor in Leachery.
Seb:
'Tis true; these as the best things are abus'd
And few spectators doe behold aright
The Authors drift: 'tis a shame but truth.
At once, the lively actor feigneth lust
And doth infuse it; where the Poet look't
Other effects should crown his learned pains,
That we by sight of vice in her true dress
Like Nero prying in his mothers womb
Should hate that loathsome place, & so doth she
And conquers vice in his own lists and tents.
Cle:
O Admirable creature!
Seb:
Why then do'st envy thy Father her?
Cle:
What should she doe with him? one that cannot see
with four eyes, nor goe with three legs: Mauger my Brothers
Rhetorick he shall not haue her; Farewell.
Exit.
Thy Brothers Rhetorick? yes J too much fear
Jt is thy Brothers Rhetorick not thy Fathers.
Nor can J blame him to be taken by those eyes,
My self am more then prisoner to: he's young
And personable and newly come from books
Such as sweet Ovid and Catullus penn'd:
Wherein all Schollars studie women long
Before they practise; & can read, even
To Courtiers lectures of Complements.
Besides, the pleasing tales and loue stories
They can conveigh to willing ears, are arms
More to be fear'd in Cupids tents then gold
Or Power; but J must check my stragling tongue.
J had almost say'd Cœlia might fall by these
And be o'recome by a strong line or sonnett;
No, her affection in such levell goes,
We know not whether we all win or loose.
Exit.
Sce: 2.
Enter Mr Shallow eating paper, & Hog.Shal:
Complements call you them? s'death they haue sent
me into the fields six times this day, and trouble my head
worse then my Taylors bill.
Hog:
They trouble your teeth rather, why doe you eat them
Mr Shallow.
Shal:
So, now J haue 'em by heart; O Hog, a pregnant Sow
doth not teem with more labour the tith pig then my braine
doth these complements.
J wonder you will humour the Ladies so much,
methinks your own phrase is not so barbarous.
Shal.
Truly yet they say it is no trim phrase, it smells of the
Countrey abominably they tell me, now how that smells
J know not: and what's your best tongue perfume Hog?
o your Ladies will talk so sweetly, and sing so sweetly,
and doe every thing so sweetly, sure they talk with sugar
plums in their mouth; Sirrah, the Lady Cœlia would haue
me gather in my mouth, 'twould much abate the broadnesse
of my speech she saith, and her sister tells me downright
J am an asse, didst thou ever hear an asse speak?
Hog:
You are the first that J e're heard moue the question:
had you been ruld by me that brought you hither you should
haue had a Lady by this; but you are obstinate, and now see
what comes o'nt: you haue been a Sutor to the Lady Cœlia,
how doe you fancy her?
Shall
Faith very ill, J haue a monstrous bad fancy.
Hog:
Js she not very reserv'd?
Shal:
Not for me J fear.
Hog:
What say you to another Lady?
Shall.
Who her Sister? hang her, she'l never come to good,
'tis shee that giues me all these Complements.
Hog:
No, No, a girle of eighteen, one that n'ere pig'd yet,
She that J wisht you first to, no jeerer of your qualities, but
an humble lowly minded thing, no complementer; one that
will doe whats fitting; withdraw a little yonder's your
tormenter.
and with her the dutifull sweet natur'd peice J haue all this
while limn'd out unto you, obserue how respectfull to her
Lady she is: you might keep her under as you please.
Shall:
J but she is no Lady is she?
Hog:
What can't you make her the Lady of your thoughts
and affections, 'tis ordinary now a dayes to create Ladies.
Shall:
She shall be then my ordinary Ladie, and the rest
my Extraordinary.
Pen:
J wonder where my servant Shallow is?
Hog:
Mark but with what contempt she names you servant:
Shall.
Nay she'le talk thus to my face.
Hog:
Delia hath espy'd us, she knows how to carry her
self, J haue instructed her.
(Aside)
Del:
The Gentleman surely is perplext of late with your
Complements, he is alwayes biting his nayls.
Shall:
Jn troth and so J am, and yet J haue them not at my
fingers ends.
Hog:
Mark the others modesty.
Pen:
O 'tis a soft pated Logger-head.
Shal:
Mark her nay she's right.
Pen:
He hath been a conning half a score lines this week.
Shal.
Nay that's a lye they are a dozen.
Pen:
J wonder what Countrey this fellow was born in, what
aire so grosse could clot a fellows brains thus, J would haue
taught a horse more in this space.
Hog:
Will you be made the Hackney for a female witt to
ride on thus? S'life J would kick, wince, and doe any thing
rather; come follow me, look big and scurvily on her and
since she baffles you out of talk, trie and she can dash you
out of countenance, but cast some few smiles upon the other
Pen:
Why doth Hog present his brother Boreas thus blustringly?
ha, ha, ha! how like a bag-pipe player he looks.
Ex: Hog & Shallow.
Del:
Madam why doe you loue this clown? or if you doe
loue him, why doe you abuse him thus?
Pen:
Peace foole, thou do'st not know the fashion yet, there
is a fashion in wooing as in other things, and this it is to doe
all things by contrary's, 'tis poor and kitching like to come
to downe right and plaine tearms of Loue, your true Ladies
abhor it, fie upon it, upon one meeting, or over a Hogdsen
cake to clap up a marriage, and the next day to church, 'tis
dull there is no sport in it.
Del:
What doe you call sport Madam if marriage be not?
Pen:
The time of wooing goes far beyond it; those are the
golden dayes of our command, once wiues and ever servants,
no, no, Virgins are the absolute's Monarchs in the world,
but that their reign never lasts long; Js it not braue to be
call'd Goddesse, Empresse, Queene, Nymph? Lady is the
lowest stile, but where are those after the Wedding day?
then Sweetheart, or wife are Holiday words, we never hear
the former but in an Jrony or scoff.
Del:
Still J wonder then why you doe so long to be rid of
this state you so highly extoll, and loose it to such a Mushrome
as this.
Pen:
That's to much for you to ask; but your Chambermayds
must know all; thy Lady wench my Sister is the
cause of it; She is the Lure spoils my game quite, the only
star forsooth the whole Citty gazes on, and till she is eclipsed
by some happy interposition, J may wear a mask, for no
body looks after me. alass my drift was to pull off this fool
Del:
This was happyly spoke, and shall goe all to him.
(Aside)
Pen:
He is an excellent subject for an abusive witt to play
on, and that J like him for; J should not loose one inch of
pride by marrying him, which makes me use him to the word
servant betimes, that it may not be a stranger to him hereafter;
come this is my sisters day of answer to her Sutors, let
us know the conclusion.
Exeunt.
Sce: 3.
Enter Cœlia sola.Was ever Lady more belou'd, and trulier
By rare variety of youthfull choice?
The cities pride and natures, be my servants,
And yet J am a Virgin, Such Gentlemen
Better n'ere shone in Saturns golden dayes:
Men of the best and first mold, men that haue
No fault but only this, that they loue me;
Men that could win cold Nuns even from their beads,
And keep the sprighfull Porcia from her coals,
And cause Lucrece to throw away her knife
And even after Tarquin loue a man;
And yet J am a Virgin; and what's worse
Yet must be so; J know not whom to chuse;
Each severall man may claine me as his own,
They all deserve me best. Curst Cœlia!
But losse to thee: would J were less belou'd
Some hate to me had been more happy far
Then all affection; Unkind Archer!
Why dost thou wound them with so just a force
And even hand? at least thou mighst haue slackt
One shaft, (in the to shoot all well's a fault)
Thy best is when one arrow only hitts
The destin'd mark, and all the rest fall short;
Enter Sr Oliver Youngloue, Antonio.
Ant:
The servants said she was i'th gallery.
Sr Oli:
We are almost upon it; J haue espy'd her.
Cœl:
Well Sutors, Cœlia, shall not wrong your loues
Jle not dispose my self, nor giue you just
Cause of dislike through my particular choice.
No, J will learn (if that we things below)
Are made partakers of such hidden arts)
Whom you kind fate haue writ in constant letters
My certaine husband, him i'le choose, the rest
Must like of him whom you approue on best.
Sr Oliv.
To her againe my Sonne, be not repulst
Tell her my bags are infinite, my Loue
Exceeding them.
Cœl.
Her's an encounter comeing;
A doating father and a loving Sonne.
Sr Oli:
Say that J dream on her, & in my sleep
Cry out on Cœlia's name.
Cœl.
Who hath no other way
Poor Gentleman to utter his own loue
But as his fathers spoksman.
Say J'me a tough
A tough old blade that in my yonger dayes
Went to it with discretion and a method;
Useing my wife but twice a week as physick.
Reflecting with an eye of providence
Upon Threescore; & haue reserv'd a stock
Of pleasure for these dayes, goe J'le wait here
Thy comfortable answer and obserue
Her eyes, and looks, and by those Symptomes judge
How thou dost win upon her heart and mind.
Ant.
Best Lady (takeing leaue to thank your vertues
For the concealment of my loue) J'me bold
To praise that beauty taught me to forgett
The piety of a Sonne, and for exchang
Enricht me with a nobler reverence,
The duty of a Lover.
Sr Oli:
How he works her?
Cœl:
Your Father is in presence pray be modest,
And offer not upon the slender grounds
Of a small secresie to build unto
Your self presumptuous hopes.
Sr Oliv:
She is half wonn;
She talks and answers to his amorous tales
He hath a plagie flattring tongue, mine own
Mine own spawn right, what would J giue to hear
Their conference.
Ant:
Madam, J presume not;
Although that louers eyes (like optick glasses)
Render all favours bigger, and aboue
the True proportion in themselues they haue:
Yet trust me Lady somewhat of comfort,
Somewhat of hope this silence doth suggest;
But that which most doth fortify my cause
Js my old Fathers weaknesse, when J behold
His age doth muster 'gainst his sute in Loue.
Sr Oliv:
He's at it now in the approovement of my manhood,
J must present and shew my self; my shoulders doe not
erect with credit; but t'is no matter.
(Sr Oliv: walks to & fro)
Ant.
J can't but dream of victory and success
Against so feeble an opposer.
Sr Oliv:
So, So, she's o'recome, now J'le goe to her; Madam
Nay he hath told no lie, J am the man
Jn all particulars he said J was,
Thanks good Antonio, thanks my sweet boy
Learning was well bestowd on thee.
Cœl.
Sr J must desire your Sonne and you to be my guests
to night; pray get young Clerimont to come, he is grown a
stranger to us.
Sr Oliv:
No, No, he sides against me with a friend My
Rivall, J shall not laugh if he be here, Let him alone, 'tis a
perverse boy to me And he shall find J will not threat but
doe.
Enter Clerimont disguised like a Captaine with a patch on his eye & a false beard
Cler:
J am chang'd enough J scarce do know my self, were
J among the roaring boys J should deceaue them too; yonder's
my Father and Jnnocence my Brother; 'Saue you Lady, J
wonder (that old man being so near) you can partake of
health.
Cœl:
The reason Sr?
Cler.
Out with him doth not his nose tell you why, more
aire J beseech you, or call for Juniper; upon my faith he
to him, the Bear garden a perfumers shop; see, see, she
begins to faint, good knight hoble further off with your three
legs; will you murder the Lady with your obscene lungs?
Cœl:
Your help's unseasonable Sr, J am sound
And in my perfect health.
Sr Oliv:
Antonio lends thy hand.
Ant:
My sword Sr.
Sr Oliv:
No, No, thy hand to hold me up, he hath put me
into a palsie, ô J could shake him now.
Ant:
Pray Sr unhand me.
Cœl:
Good Sr unsay your words, perhaps you have rail'd
against a man J loue; for my sake peace.
Cler:
Loue? Jle break the bands Lady, alasse if you would
haue feavers, aches, gouts, tympanies, coughs, collicks,
palsies, & rheums your unfortunate issue; take him: he shall
beget all these with a kisse, he will poyson with more
dexterity then your Doctoor.
Ant:
This is unsufferable; patience is here a crime, good
father let me chastise his tongue.
Sr Oliv:
No, no, and Clerimont were here, he should chang
a blow or two with him, he is just such a swaggering boy,
this, upon my life, is a sworn brother of his.
Cler:
He got indeed two boyes in his youth, yonder is his
eldest, a starvling, diet is cast away upon him; he devoures
Books to and yet you see he doth not thrive; and the other
(a well timbred Gentleman but for his hereditary infirmities)
almost drownd in phlegms and rheums, which hath throwd
him upon the Sovereign balm Tobacco; J haue known him
diseases as well as other things are successiue, now consider
J pray, if he begat a child of phisick at one and twenty what
an increase will threescore and ten make; J should be sorry
to see this howse turn'd to an Hospitall to maintaine the
lame, and diseases of your own body, for if he beget any
thing they must be errors of nature, Dwarfs, Crook-backs or
Cripples.
Sr Oliv:
O Pagan Souldier! Sirrah J will pay you and J come
at you, hold me Antonio J shall fall heavily upon him else.
Cler:
Pay me? you will do more then my Captaine hath
done this twelue month then; but J will not take pay for
nought, J will discharg the other volley and doe your ears a
little more service.
Cœl:
No more, Jle hear no more.
Ant:
Good father let your legs suffice you till J haue spoak
He will be nought but thunder, if his tongue
Haue no controul, a word will silence him
And make this Gallant Gallyfoist goe off
Even like a potgun.
Sr Oliv:
J, and he were gon we would rayl with him, J am
glad J doe not hear him well, how seasonable is my deafnesse
now? and yet his cursed noise hath pierced into the wool,
J feel a whizing in my ears.
Cler:
Jle come neerer to you, nay you must hear; tis my
allejeance, as much as in me lies, to see the king haue lusty
subjects, and shall he be yours? what service can a piece of
this flesh doe his countrey, ha? You are his Sonne, 'twere
wisdome in you to haue him «to the Ba»th and st«ew him he
w»ill make an excellent codling, a wife is too violent a hot
this week, you were somewhat to be excus'd, but alas he
will lie bedriden a score of years, and be a dying as long as a
cat; h'ele breath the toothach into your mouth with a kisse,
and insinuate the palsey into your hand when he shakes it.
Now Sr with what charity can you marry one you know your
touch is more benumming then a Mandrake too; or you Lady
with what reason, that are in hot and youthfull fire can lie with
a flake of ice, obdurate ice, whom your warm side is not able
to dissolve into a drop of cold water; doe but whip away his
staff thus and he falls into his graue, where J'le leave him.
Exit Cleri:
Sr Oliv:
Nay let me lie J can fall no lower now.
Cœl:
Why, Delia.
(speaks as behind the Arras.)
Del:
Sweet Mr Shallow let me goe, my Lady calls,
Shall.
Let her call her heart out, thy Lady? & so art thou.
Enter Delia.
Cœl:
Who let this wild man in?
Sr Oliv:
T'is no matter who let him in, be sure you keep
him out O Rogue what a throat he had, a Trumpet wispers
in respect of him.
Del:
He pretended extream businesse to your Ladyship, and
desired my absence, or els J had usher'd him in.
Cœl:
Well make satisfaction in your care of ridding the
house of him.
Del:
He stay'd not here but streight flung into the street.
Ant:
Which way took he?
Towards the Exchang.
Sr Oliver:
Well, if J die within a twelve month and a day,
J'le prosecute him and hang him if there were no more men
in «the world.
Exeunt.»
Sce: 4.
Enter Clerimont.J think J shook him and the house too; how the stallion
ambled before me? he hath not us'd his legs so much this
7 years; J've stird his blood more then his Phisick or his
wench could; how he followed his staff to the ground, as if
his soule had bin in it. Well, J'le to Sebastian
As he is going out Antonio enters & spies him & draws his sword.
Ant:
Turn villaine or thy soule goes out the ignoble way.
Cler:
How's this?
Ant:
Draw and that streight
My wrath's too just to spend it self in words,
Thou art not in my Cœlia's chamber now,
And besides that there is no sanctuary.
Cler:
J will not draw; J haue no quarrell to you, nor haue
J injur'd you.
Ant:
Not injur'd me!
Hadst thou a father, mother, sister, nay
Hecatombs of kindred would not satisfye;
My wrath is like thy tongue that knows no bound.
Not injur'd me! draw, or unfenc't J'le kill thee.
And rather heap law and dishonour on my self
Then thou shouldst scape the justice of my sword.
S' life this is short warning to leaue the world J am
not yet provided for heaven, nor know not when J shall.
Ant:
Are you jeasting? J'le send you grinning thither.
(makes at him)
Cler:
J'le fight. [draws)
But know fond youth, there sits upon thy sword
Too weak a cause, an old man strives in thee,
Jn me a lusty lover.
Ant:
Cœlia guard me,
And arme with a strength as great as my loue.
Cler:
One word, but one word more, dost thou loue Cœlia?
Ant.
Witnesse that thrust; guard thee, i'le follow it
Cler:
Doe and kill thy brother, nay follow it
Doe my good Romulus. (undisguises himself)
Ant:
Brother! that name hath a thousand deaths in't.
Cle:
My father hath a couple of as good soons as a father
would desire to hang; J begin to loue him highly now, he'le
proue as fine a torment to him as my self; when will he down
on his knees and ask me pardon? hark Brother J look to be
thank'd (but not with your sword) for the service J haue
done you.
Ant.
What thanks thou canst expect from dead men, take,
such hast thou made me.
Cler:
This is a fine trick, he thinks he hath wounded me,
and for my satisfaction would haue me doe as much for him.
Ant:
Or if thou think'st J am not kild enough
Fulfill the Tyrant, prethee do't againe,
And make thy sword as bloody as thy tongue.
Cle:
O J smell him now, he takes me for his rivall.
Ant:
Oh what malignant Stars are ours, that damne
Our blood to such inauspicable loue
No lesse then paricide.
Cler:
Hear me Brother!
Ant:
Wert thou not Brother J could hear thee gladly,
Be any thi«ng but» that, my antipathy,
Or whatso'ere my nature worse abhors,
Thy neernesse makes the separation
And unitie divides us.
Cler:
This suspition
Shall joyn us, closer then ever joyn us:
J swear by the religion of our blood,
And what's aboue thy soul, fair Cœlia.
J haue not lookt on her with captiue eyes.
Ant:
Not loue her? ther's naught else impossible,
Nothing aboue thought or aboue faith but that;
Thou shouldst haue said thou lou'st her more then health,
Thy countrey, parents, king; no oracle
Could be more true then that, or more belou'd;
But now J know you'r false, not loue her?
Cler:
Why thou infidell, J'le giue thee a sufficient reason
for it, how should J loue her that n'ere lou'd any yet, but
lust after all; J cannot confine my self to 1, 2, or 3, J must
shift smocks as oft as shirts, and that's twice a week.
Ant:
And yet you said upon that sword there sat a lusty
louer.
Cler:
Tis true, my old friend Sebastian is thy rivall; J am
of his faction, which made me reckon up a few inconveniences
of my fathers to your Lady.
Ant:
For ought J see my hopes stand full as faire
And though J am the latest Sutor, yet
J find not any one before me in her loue.
She doth dispence with such equalities
That justice cannot deal to ev'ry one
More pleasing favours.
Cler:
So they all say, they hang on her just like Leeches,
not drop off till they are full of comfortable hopes. Well
Brother, and Friend, we are pretty well divided now, how we
shall come together no man knows,
Say there's a cloven calvs head without braine.
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