 | The Antipodes |  |
Act 2.
Scene 1.
Letoy, Doctor.
Tonight saiest thou my Hughball?
Doct.
By all meanes,
And if your Play takes to my expectation,
As I not doubt my potion workes to yours,
Your fancy and my cure shall be cry'd up
Miraculous. O y'are the Lord of fancy.
Let.
I'm not ambitious of that title Sir,
No, the Letoy's are of Antiquity,
Ages before the fancyes were begot,
But are you confident o' your potion doctor?
Sleeps the young man?
Doct.
Yes, and has slept these twelve houres,
After a thousand mile an houre out-right,
By sea and land; and shall awake anone
In the Antipodes.
Let.
Well Sir my Actors
Are all in readinesse; and I thinke all perfect,
But one, that never will be perfect in a thing
He studies; yet he makes such shifts extempore,
(Knowing the purpose what he is to speak to)
That he moves mirth in me 'bove all the rest.
For I am none of those Poeticke furies,
That threats the Actors life, in a whole play,
That addes a sillable, or takes away.
If he can frible through, and move delight
In others, I am pleas'd.
Doct.
It is that mimick fellow which your Lordship
But lately entertain'd.
Let.
The same.
Doct.
He will be wondrous apt in my affaire:
For I must take occasion to interchange,
Discourse with him sometimes amidst their Scenes,
T'informe my patient, my mad young travellor
In diverse matters.
Let.
Doe, put him to't: I use't my selfe sometimes.
Doct.
I know it is your way.
Let.
Well to the businesse.
Hast wrought the jealous Gentleman, old Ioylesse,
To suffer his wife to see our Comedy.
Doct.
She brings your Ring, my Lord, upon her finger,
And he brings her in's hand. I have instructed her
To spurre his jealousie of o'the legges.
Let.
And I will helpe her in't.
Doct.
the young distracted
Gentlewoman too, that's sicke of her virginity,
Yet knowes not what it is; and Blaze and's wife
Shall all be your guests to night, and not alone
To fill your Comicke Scenes with double mirth.
Let.
Go fetch 'hem then, while I prepare my Actors.
Ex. Doc.
Within there hoe?
Within. 1
This is my beard and haire.
Within. 2
My Lord appointed it for my part.
Within. 3
No, this is for you; and this is yours, this grey one.
Within. 4
Where be the foyles, and Targets for the women?
Within. 1
Here, can't you see?
Let.
What a rude coyle is there? But yet it pleases me.
Within. 1
You must not weare that Cloak and Hat.
Within. 2
Who told you so? I must.
In my first Scene, and you must weare that robe.
Let.
What a noyse make those knaves? come in one of you:
Are you the first that answers to that name?
Scene 2.
Enter Quaile-pipe, 3 Actors, and Byplay.Qua.
My Lord.
Let.
Why are not you ready yet?
Qua.
I am not to put on my shape, before
I have spoke the Prologue. And for that my Lord
I yet want something.
Let.
What I pray with your grave formality?
Qua.
I want my Beaver-shooes, and Leather-Cap,
To speake the Prologue in; which were appoynted
By your Lordships owne direction.
Let.
Well sir, well:
There they be for you; I must looke to all.
Qua.
Certes my Lord, it is a most apt conceit:
The Comedy being the world turn'd upside-downe,
That the presenter weare the Capitall Beaver
Upon his feet, and on his head shooe-leather.
Let.
Trouble not you your head with my conceite,
But minde your part Let me not see you act now,
In your Scholasticke way, you brought to towne wi' yee,
With see saw sacke a downe, like a Sawyer;
Nor in a Comicke Scene, play Hercules furens,
Tearing your throat to split the Audients eares.
And you Sir, you had got a tricke of late,
Of holding out your bum in a set speech;
Your fingers fibulating on your breast,
Helpes to your memory. Let me see you in't
No more I charge you. No, nor you sir, in
That over-action of the legges I told you of,
Your singles, and your doubles, Looke you—thus—
Like one o'th' dancing Masters o' the Beare-garden;
And when you have spoke, at end of every speech,
Not minding the reply, you turne you round
As Tumblers doe; when betwixt every feat.
They gather wind, by firking up their breeches.
Ile none of these, absurdities in my house.
But words and action married so together,
That shall strike harmony in the eares and eyes
Of the severest, if judicious Criticks.
Qua.
My Lord we are corrected.
Let.
Goe, be ready:
But you Sir are incorrigible, and
Take licence to your selfe, to adde unto
Your parts, your owne free fancy; and sometimes
To alter, or diminish what the writer
With care and skill compos'd: and when you are
To speake to your coactors in the Scene,
You hold interloquutions with the Audients,
Bip.
That is a way my Lord has bin allow'd
On elder stages to move mirth and laughter.
Let.
Yes in the dayes of Tarlton and Kempe,
Before the stage was purg'd from barbarisme,
And brought to the perfection it now shines with.
Then fooles and jesters spent their wits, because
The Poets were wise enough to save their owne
For profitable uses. Let that passe.
To night, ile give thee leave to try thy wit,
In answering my Doctor, and his Patient
He brings along with him to our Antipodes.
By.
I heard of him my Lord: Blaze gave me light
Of the mad Patient; and that he never saw
A Play in's life: it will be possible
For him to thinke he is in the Antipodes
Indeed, when he is on the Stage among us.
When't has beene thought by some that have their wits,
Let.
Leave that sir to th'event. See all be ready:
Your Musicke properties, and—
By.
All my Lord,
Onely we want a person for a Mute.
Let.
Blaze when he comes shall serve. Goe in.
Ex. Byp.
My Guests J heare are comming.
Scene 3.
Enter Blaze, Ioylesse, Diana, Martha, Barb.Bla.
My Lord, J am become your honours usher,
To these your guests. The worthy Mr. Ioylesse,
With his faire wife, and daughter in law.
Let.
They're welcome,
And you in the first place sweet Mistris Ioylesse.
You weare my ring J see; you grace me in it.
Ioy.
His Ring! what Ring? how came she by't?
Blaz.
Twill worke.
Let.
J sent it as a pledge of my affection to you:
For J before have seene you, and doe languish,
Untill J shall enjoy your love.
Ioy.
He courts her.
Let.
Next Lady—you—J have a toy for you too.
Mar.
My Child shall thanke you for it, when I have one.
I take no joy in toyes since J was marryed.
Let.
Prettily answer'd! I make you no stranger
Kind Mistris Blaze.
Bar.
Time was your honour us'd
Me strangely too, as you'll doe these I doubt not.
Let.
Honest Blaze,
Prethee goe in, there is an Actor wanting.
Bla.
Is there a part for me? how shall I study't?
Let.
Thou shalt say nothing.
Bla.
Then if I doe not act
Nothing as well as the best of 'hem, let me be hist.
Exit.
Ioy.
I say restore the Ring, and backe with me.
Dia.
To whom shall I restore it?
Ioy.
To the Lord that sent it.
Dia.
Is he a Lord? I alwayes thought and heard
Ith' Country, Lords were gallant Creatures. He
Looks like a thing not worth it: tis not his,
Let.
I use small verball courtesie Mr. Ioylesse
(You see) but what J can in deed ile doe.
You know the purpose of your comming, and
I can but give you welcome. If your sonne
Shall receive ease in't, be the comfort yours,
The credit of't my Doctors. You are sad.
Ioy.
My Lord I would entreat we may returne;
I feare my wife's not well.
Let.
Returne! pray slight not so my courtesie.
Dia.
Besides sir I am well; and have a minde
(A thankfull one) to taste my Lords free bounty.
I never saw a play, and would be loath
To lose my longing now.
Ioy.
The aire of London
Hath tainted her obedience already:
And should the Play but touch the vices of it,
She'd learne and practise 'hem. Let me beseech
Your Lordships reacceptance of the un-
Merited favour that she weares here, and
Your leave for our departure.
Let.
J will not
Be so dishonoured; nor become so ill
A master of my house, to let a Lady
Leave it against her will; and from her longing;
J will be plaine wi'yee therefore: If your haste
Must needs post you away, you may depart,
She shall not not till the morning for mine honour.
Ioy.
Indeed tis a high poynt of honour in
A Lord to keepe a private Gentlemans wife
From him.
Dia.
J love this plaine Lord better than
All the brave gallant ones, that ere I dream't on.
Let.
Tis time we take our seats. So if you'll stay.
Come sit with us, if not, you know your way.
Ioy.
Here are we fallen through the Doctors fingers.
Into the Lords hands. Fate deliver us.
Ex. omnes.
Scene 4.
Enter in sea-gownes and Caps, Doctor, and Perigrine brought in a chaire by 2 Sailers: Cloaks and Hats brought in.Doct.
Now the last minute of his sleeping fit
Determines. Raise him on his feete. So, so:
Rest him upon mine Arme. Remove that Chaire,
Welcome a shore Sir in th'Antipodes.
Per.
Are we arriv'd so farre?
Doct.
And on firme land.
Sailers you may returne now to your ship.
Ex. Sail.
Per.
What worlds of lands and Seas have I past over,
Neglecting to set downe my observations,
A thousand thousand things remarkable
Have slipt my memory, as if all had beene
Meere shadowy phantasmes, or Phantasticke dreames.
Doct.
We'll write as we returne Sir: and tis true,
You slept most part o' th'journey hitherward,
The aire was so somniferous: And twas well
You scap'd the Calenture by't.
Per.
But how long doe you thinke I slept?
Doct.
Eight moneths, and some odde dayes,
Which was but as so many houres and minutes
Of ones owne naturall Country sleepe.
Per.
Eight Moneths—
Doct.
Twas nothing for so young a Braine.
How thinke you one of the seven Christian Champions,
David by name, slept seven yeares in a Leek-bed.
Per.
I thinke I have read it in their famous History.
Doct.
But what chiefe thing of note now in our Travells
Can you call presently to mind? Speake like a Traveller.
Per.
I doe remember, as we past the Verge
O'th' upper world, comming downe, down-hill,
The setting Sunne then bidding them good night,
Came gliding easily downe by us; and strucke
New day before us, lighting us our way;
But with such heate, that till he was got farre
Before us, we even melted.
Doct.
Well wrought potion. Very well observ'd sir.
But now we are come into a temperate clime
With that of London; and as well agreeable
Unto our nature, as you have found that aire.
Per.
I never was at London.
Doct.
Cry you mercy.
This Sir is Anti London. That's the' Antipodes
To the grand City of our Nation,
Iust the same people, language, and Religion,
But contrary in Manners, as I ha' told you.
Per.
I doe remember that relation,
As if you had but given it me this morning.
Doct.
Now cast your Sea weeds off, and do'n fresh garments.
Hearke sir their Musicke.
Scene 5.
Shift.Hoboyes. Enter Letoy, Ioylesse, Diana, Martha, Barara in Masques, they sit at the other end of the stage.
Let.
Here we may sit, and he not see us.
Doct.
Now see one of the Natives of this Country,
Note his attire, his language, and behaviour.
Enter Quailpipe, Prologue.
Qua.
Our farre fetch'd Title over lands and seas,
Offers unto your view th'Antipodes.
But what Antipodes now shall you see?
Even those that foot to foot 'gainst London be,
Because no Traveller that knowes that state,
Shall say we personate or imitate
Them in our actions: For nothing can
Almost be spoke, but some or other man,
Takes it unto himselfe; and sayes the stuffe,
If it be vicious, or absurd enough.
Was woven upon his backe. Farre, farre be all
That bring such prejudice mixt with their gall.
This play shall no Satyrick Timist be
To taxe or touch at either him or thee,
That art notorious. Tis so farre below
Things in our orbe, that doe among us flow,
That no degree, from Keyser to the Clowne,
Shall say this vice or folly was mine owne.
Let.
This had bin well now, if you had not dreamt
Too long upon your sillables.
Ex. Prol.
The Prologue call you this my Lord?
Bar.
Tis my Lords Reader, and as good a lad
Out of his function, as I would desire
To mixe withall in civill conversation.
Let.
Yes Lady, this was Prologue to the Play,
As this is to our sweet ensuing pleasures.
Kisse.
Joy.
Kissing indeed is Prologue to a Play,
Compos'd by th'Divell, and acted by the Children
Of his blacke Revells, may hell take yee for't.
Mar.
Indeed I am weary, and would faine goe home.
Bar.
Indeed but you must stay, and see the play.
Mar.
The Play: what play? It is no Childrens play,
Nor no Child-getting play, pray is it?
Bar.
You'll see anon. O now the Actors enter.
Flourish.
Scene 6.
Enter two Sergeants, with swords drawne, running before a Gentleman.Gent.
Why doe you not your office courteous friends?
Let me entreat you stay, and take me with you;
Lay but your hands on mee: I shall not rest
untill I be arrested. A sore shoulder-ache
Paines and torments me, till your vertuous hands
Doe clap or stroake it.
1 Ser.
You shall pardon us.
2 Ser.
And I beseech you pardon our intent,
Which was indeed to have arrested you:
But sooner shall the Charter of the City
Be forfeited, then varlets (like our selves)
Shall wrong a Gentlemans peace. So fare you well sir.
Ex.
Gent.
O y'are unkinde.
Per.
Pray what are those?
Doct.
Two Catchpoles
Runne from a Gentleman (it seemes) that would
Have bin arrested.
Scene 7.
Enter old Lady and Byplay, like a Servingman.La.
Yonder's your Master,
Goe take him you in hand, while I fetch breath,
Bip.
O are you here? my Lady, and my selfe
Have sought you sweetly.
Let.
You, and your Lady, you
Should ha' said Puppy.
For we heard you were
To be arrested. Pray sir, who has bail'd you?
I wonder who of all your bold acquaintance
That knowes my Lady durst baile off her husband.
Gent.
Indeed I was not touch'd.
Byp.
Have you not made
An end by composition, and disburs'd
Some of my Ladies money for a peace
That shall beget an open warre upon you?
Confesse it if you have: for 'twill come out.
She'll ha' you up you know. I speak it for your good.
Gent.
I know't, and ile entreate my Lady wife
To mend thy wages tother forty shillings
A yeare, for thy true care of me.
La.
Tis well Sir,
But now (if thou hast impudence so much,
As face to face, to speak unto a Lady
That is thy wife, and supreame head) tell me
At whose sute was it? or upon what action?
Debts I presume you have none: For who dares trust
A Ladyes husband, who is but a Squire,
And under covert barne? it is some trespasse—
Answer me not till I finde out the truth.
Gent.
The truth is—
La.
Peace,
How darst thou speake the truth
Before thy wife? ile finde it out my selfe.
Dia.
In truth she handles him handsomely.
Ioy.
Doe you like it?
Dia.
Yes, and such wives are worthy to be lik'd,
For giving good example.
Let.
Good! hold up
That humour by all meanes.
La.
I thinke I ha' found it.
There was a certaine Mercer sent you silkes,
And cloth of gold to get his wife with child;
You slighted her, and answered not his hopes;
And now he layes to arrest you; is't not so?
Gent.
Indeed my Lady wife tis so.
For shame
Be not ingratefull to that honest man,
To take his wares, and scorne to lye with his wife.
Do't I command you; what did I marry you for?
The portion that you brought me was not so
Aboundant, though it were five thousand pounds
(Considering too the Joincture that I made you)
That you should disobey me.
Dia.
It seemes the husbands
In the Antipodes bring portions, and
The wives make Joinctures.
Ioy.
Very well observ'd.
Dia.
And wives, when they are old, and past child-bearing,
Allow their youthfull husbands other women.
Let.
Right. And old men give their young wives like licence.
Dia.
That I like well. Why should not our old men,
Love their young wives as well?
Ioy.
Would you have it so?
Let.
Peace master Joylesse, you are too lowd. Good still.
Byp.
Doe as my Lady bids, you got her woman
With child at halfe these words.
Gent.
O, but anothers
Wife is another thing. Farre be it from
A Gentlemans thought to doe so, having a wife
And hand-mayd of his owne that he likes better.
Byp.
There said you well; but take heed I advise you
How you love your owne wench, or your owne wife
Better then other mens.
Dia.
Good Antipodian counsell.
La.
Goe to that woman, if she prove with childe,
I'll take it as mine owne.
Gent.
her husband would
Doe so. But from my house I may not stray.
Mar.
If it be me your wife commends you to,
You shall not need to stray from your owne house.
I'll goe home with you.
Bar.
Precious! what doe you meane?
Pray keepe your seat: you'll put the players out.
Joy.
Here's goodly stuffe! Shee's in the Antipodes too.
And what are those?
Doct.
All Antipodeans,
Attend good Sir.
La.
You know your charge, obey it.
Scene 8.
Enter wayting woman great bellyed.Wom.
What is his charge? or whom must he obey?
Good madam with your wilde authority;
You are his wife, tis true, and therein may
According to our law, rule, and controwle him.
But you must know withall, I am your servant,
And bound by the same law to governe you,
And be a stay to you in declining age,
To curbe and qualifie your head-strong will,
Which otherwise would ruine you. Moreover,
Though y'are his wife, I am a breeding mother,
Of a deare childe of his; and therein claime
More honor from him then you ought to challenge.
La.
Insooth she speakes but reason.
Gent.
Pray let's home then.
Wom.
You have something there to looke to, one would thinke,
If you had any care. How well you saw
Your father at Schoole to day, and knowing how apt
He is to play the Trewant.
Gent.
But is he not
Yet gone to schoole?
Wom.
Stand by, and you shall see.
Scene 9.
Enter three old men with sachells, &c.All. 3.
‘Domine, domine duster. Three knaves in a cluster, &c.
Gent.
O this is gallant pastime Nay come on,
Is this your schoole? was that your lesson, ha?
1 Old.
Pray now good son, indeed, indeed.
Gent.
Indeed
You shall to schoole, away with him; and take
Their wagships with him; the whole cluster of 'hem.
2 Old.
You shant send us now, so you shant.
3 Old.
We be none of your father, so we beant.
Gent.
Away with 'hem I say; and tell their Schoole-mistris,
What trewants they are, and bid her pay 'hem soundly.
All. 3.
O, O, O.
Come, come, ye Gallows-clappers.
Dia.
A lasse, will no body beg pardon for
The poore old boyes?
Doct.
Sir, gentle Sir, a word with you.
Byp.
To strangers Sir I can be gentle.
Let.
Good,
Now marke that fellow, he speakes Extempore.
Dia.
Extempare call you him? he's a dogged fellow
To the three poore old things there, fie upon him.
Per.
Do men of such faire years here go to schoole?
Byp.
They would dye dunces else.
Per.
Have you no young men schollers, sir I pray;
When we have beard lesse doctors?
Doct.
He has wip'd my lips, you question very wisely Sir.
Byp.
So sir have wee; and many reverend teachers,
Grave counsellors at law; perfect statesmen.
That never knew use of Rasor, which may live
For want of wit to loose their offices.
These were great schollers in their youth. But when
Age growes upon men here, their learning wasts,
And so decayes; that if they live untill
Threescore, their sons send them to schoole againe.
They'd dye as speechlesse else as new born children.
Per.
Tis a wise nation; and the piety
Of the young men most rare and commendable,
Yet give me as a stranger leave to beg
Their liberty this day; and what they loose by't,
My father when he goes to schoole, shall answer.
Ioy.
I am abus'd on that side too.
Bypt.
Tis granted.
Hold up your heads and thanke the gentleman
Like schollers, with your heeles now.
All. 3.
Gratias, Gratias, Gratias.—
Exit.
Dia.
Well done sonne Peregrine, he's in's wits I hope.
Joy.
If you lose yours the while, where's my advantage?
Dia.
And trust me, twas well done too of Extempore
To let the poore old children loose. And now
I looke well on him he's a proper man.
Ioy.
She'll fall in love with the Actor, and undoe me.
Do's not his Lady love him, sweet my Lord?
Let.
Love; yes, and lye with him, as her husband do's
With's mayd. It is their law in the Antipodes.
Dia.
But we have no such lawes with us.
Ioy.
Doe you approve of such a law?
Dia.
No; not so much
In this case, where the man and wife doe lye
With their inferiour servants; But in the other,
Where the old Citizen would arrest the gallant
That tooke his wares and would not lye with's wife,
There it seemes reasonable, very reasonable.
Ioy.
Do's it?
Dia.
Mak't your owne case, you are an old man,
I love a gentleman, you give him rich presents,
To get me a child (because you cannot) must not
We looke to have our bargaine?
Ioy.
Give me leave
Now to be gone my Lord, though I leave her
Behinde me; shee is mad, and not my wife,
And I may leave her.
Let.
Come; you are mov'd I see,
I'll settle all; But first, prevaile with you
To taste my wine and sweet meats. The Comedians
Shall pause the while. This you must not deny me.
Exit.
Ioy.
I must not live here alwaies, that's my comfort.
Exit.
Per.
I thanke you Sir, for the poore mens release,
It was the first request that I have made
Since I came in these confines.
Byp.
Tis our custome
To deny strangers nothing: yea, to offer
Of any thing we have, that may be usefull,
In curtesie to strangers. Will you therefore
Be pleas'd to enter Sir this habitation,
And take such vyands, beverage, and repose
As may refresh you after tedious travailes?
Doct.
Thou tak'st him right: for I am sure he's hungry.
Per.
All I have seene since my arrivall, are
Wonders. But your humanity excells.
Byp.
Vertue in the Antipodes onely dwells.
| The Antipodes | |