 | The Hollander |  |
Actus Tertius
Scena Prima.
Sconce solus, dressing his weapon.Scon.
So, now it workes: the operation I believe is not on
the suddaine, and my wound rancles as fast as if hee
had runne his Rapier through a Head of Garlicke, or wash'd it
in Aqua fortis; and this weapon salve, so much extold byth' Twiball
Knights, commended by Mixum, deified by Urinall, and
adored by my believing selfe, procures no more miraculous effect,
than if it were unguentum album. Well, I am confident
yet, there's no defect ith' unguent; my blood, my blood is sure
anathemated; carries some curs'd impediment about it, that
disannuls the vertue and incomparable force of the divine salve.
This Dutch blood of mine, guilty of Bacon grease, and potted
Butter—Sof, who are these? my Cozen Fortresse, Generall
of the Twiball Knights; and his assistant Pirke, with Mr. Mixum;
twere a detriment to valour to complaine before them.
Mix.
Yonder's your Cosen talking to himselfe: pray Gentlemen
draw neare, Mr. Sconce I brought these friends to visit you.
Scon.
Thanks good Mr. Mixum, Cosen Fortresse, and my
Diminutive Captaine Pirke; give your hands, you are welcome,
very welcome.
For.
Health to the Weather-cocke of my Kin, the noble Signeur
Ieremias Sconce.
Pirke.
Propitious, and auspicious be thy starres, man of renowne
and merit: ha thy arme in sling my Palmerin: Confusion
Captaine Fortresse, he weares a wound about him.
Scon.
No, no, a touch, a meere touch, a Flea-bite, Captain Pirke.
Mix.
Is't not recover'd by the salve Mr. Sconce?
Scon.
Yes, as good as whole; the weapon salve will remedy it.
Fort.
Yes, past all chance it will: twill mundifie and purge
your body Cosen: I use to combate three or foure at once, every
spring, purposely to be let blood a little: it does me good all the
yeare after.
Scon.
I am very glad of it. But tell me Cosen Fortresse, how
fares it with the residue of the blades, the valiant Twiball
Knights, the famous brethren, doe they walke in Coat gelt, or
all a mode in Dunkirke Cloaks?
Mix.
Those fashioned Cloaks I never heard of before: I mervaile
my Tayler gets not a patterne of them: Pray sir, what is a
Dunkirke Cloake?
Pirke.
Not know a Dunkirk upper garment, a leaguer Cloak;
behold my Io, this Cane, this staffe of office; this wee stile the
Millitarie Caster.
Mix.
Twill hardly keepe a shoure of raine out that.
Scon.
Are they confin'd to Chamber still, for want of Boots,
or Linnen? I love to heare of their prosperities.
Fort.
Why Cosen they are well, but in the accustom'd garbe,
the frugall brimme, and petty feather: they expect most carefully
thy admittance into our Order.
Scon.
'T shall be done after my wedding Cosen. I have got,
Bully, Fortresse: Flesh of Milke and Roses Blade.
For.
But Cosen, tis necessary, you inrole your selfe into the
Family before you wed: our order, like the Knights of Malta,
does admit no persons espoused: but with this difference, if
they receive the Order Batchellours, they may then marry and
yet retaine the title.
Scon.
Say you so Cosen?
For.
Certaine truth my Io: we met upon our grand Exchange
last night, our place of trade and consultation, and there concluded
some decrees, necessary for supporting our Commonwealth.
Pir.
How perdition Captaine? how durst you meet without
me? or conceite that decree valuable, which the voyce of Captaine
Pirke has not assented to. Refuse me sir, the brethren of
the Blades shall rue their bold confrontment: vengeance doe
you take mee for a boy, or some Pigwiggin? consult without
me?
Scon.
Patience, good Captaine Pirke, I would faine heare
them.
Pirk.
He reads his necke-verse, reads them in my presence:
Death rob me of the priviledge of my place and dignity Captaine,
confound you, I could shew you Twibill for it.
Mix.
What does this Tom Thumbe meane troe?
For.
Why sirrah Dandiprat, you might have given attendance.
Pirke.
What without a summons, you can send Iacke Shirke
your Beadle, to congregate the meaner branches of the Brotherhood,
not a Picke-pocket I warrant you, but had notice of it:
and must I be forgotten? by my man-hood tis base.
Scon.
You have given the Captaine too bold a touch Senior
Pirke; thou art just like the Mouse to the Elephant, borne to
vexe him: but prethee for my sake let him read them.
Pirke.
Your sake prevailes, or otherwise—
For.
Attend then Cosen Sconce; our Orders Ile assure you are
such, as the most envious Justice, nor their Goose-quill Clarks,
that smell at new Bridewell, and Finsbury shall not exclaime
on. Jmprimis, it is generally decreed.
Pirk.
How, generally without me? Fire of Styx this is insufferable.
Good Captaine Pirke, on cosen Fortresse.
Fort.
That no knight of the Twibill; as Whiskin or allye
gentleman shall presume to lead or convey any of the sisters of
the order, viz. Striker, Cockatrice, or Gynimeg through the
watch after twelve, unlesse he see them asleepe, or be in fee with
the Constable, under the penalty of being sent to the house of
Correction.
Pirk.
Renounce me sir, this order Ile not signe to, it savors of
cowardise, feare to convey a sister through the watch, tis against
Our noble institution.
Fort.
Next it is enacted, that none of the groomes of our wardrobe
shall offer to deprive any man of cloake, coate, or hat,
unlesse it be in the darke, as they feare to answer it at the next
assises, and be burn'd in the hand for it.
Scon.
Twould be a hot touch for them cosen Fortresse.
Fort.
Next it is decreed, that the receivers of our rents and
customes, to wit divers Rookes, and Saint Nicholas Clearkes
shall certainely use no more slights to get more then they can
clearely come off with, under penalty of being carried up Holborne
in a cart, and at Tiburne executed, which may tend to the
dissolution of our whole fraternity.
Scon.
But have you concluded nothing for the sisters, I long to
heare them?
Fort.
O yes cosen, we have confinde them to a certaine price, a
stipend reasonable, so that they shall not need to dive into
pockets.
Scon.
They will doe that if you would hang them cosen.
Pirk.
I doe disclaime that order, Captaine Fortresse, your
wisedome should have well considerd at what charge they are,
for coach or hand litter, specially those of the gentile garbe,
next their ushers must be maintaind, paint payd for, cloaths, provided
and the matron satisfied, these things considerd, could you
bee so cruell as to confine them to a price by valour sir, I am
asham'd on't.
Fort.
Tis mended by the next order, they are prescrib'd from
wearing Plush and Sattin, unlesse in peticoats.
Scon.
You will not have them like the Jewes at Rome weare
party coloured garments to be knowne from Christians?
By no meanes sir, we would have every one take notice
of them, but Marhalls men, Beadles, and Constables, and
therefore have ordain'd that they shall weare Beaver Hats,
Poak'd Ruffes, Grogram Gownes, or at the best wrought Taffata,
Foxe Skinne Muffes, Moehaire peticoates, Bodkins and Cros-cloaths
edg'd with gold lace.
Mix.
This is the habit of our Rotterdamians.
Fort.
The only shape to hide a striker in: ever while you
Live, your city is most secure from officers, and most
Notorious to gentlemen, they will take up your city ware at
Any rate. Besides while they flanted it in plush,
'Twas an abuse to gentlewomen and Ladies, we have er'd in
Questioning them for females of our tribe, and had our pates
Broake for it.
Scon.
But cosen is this edict generally confirm'd by all the society
of the Twibillers Knights and Ladies.
Fort.
Tis universall cosen, only for Captaine Pirkes name, wee
left a blanke, there's the decree sir, read it if you please.
Pirk.
Twas the safest course to leave a blanke for me, or I had
Blank'd your whole decree! I had by magnanimity.
Scon.
Imprimis, I Captaine Furibundo Fortresse.
Mix.
A fearefull name that same.
Scon.
Knight great master of the order of Twibill: Lord of no
Cloke, Viscount Ratan, cane and one spur.
Mix.
You are but an ill cocke of the game it seemes.
Scon.
Count Freese, gray Felt, and mony-lacke, Duke of Turnbull,
Bloomesbury, and Rotten Row, Lord paramont of all
Garden-Alleyes, Gun Ally, and Rosemary Lane.
Mix.
He has more titles then the great Turke. Proceed sir.
Scon.
Chief commander of all Twibills, dangerfeild and whiskins,
who will quarell in Tavernes with a man, and not fight
in the field with a mouse. And of the residue of the fraternities
of huffes, divers dammes and decoyes, sole sultan and grand signeur,
have to the premisses set my mighty hand, together with
hands of our trusty and our couragious assistants (this blanke's
for you Captaine Pirke.) Holofernes Make-shift, Rosiran Knockdowne,
and twenty six more of our principall companions of the
order.
Nay there are others too, bury not their appellations
in oblivion, they merit memory.
Scon.
To which at our command also are subsign'd our most illustrious
and remarkable sisters (they are slit nos'd perhaps)
(there was a touch for them cosen Fortresse) Donna Iesabella,
Garreta, mother of the maids of Lambeth Marsh, with her conspicuous
consort, at the three skipping Conies in the towne.
(a touch that) you meane the three Squirrels, you are cunning
cosen Fortresse, together with our most industrious servant Pythagoras
Pigge.
Pirk.
I gave him that name from his transmigration into cast
suites, who has put his petie toes to it, and finally the woman
that sings ballads, has her name trunled at the taile of it.
Mix.
I mervaile master Doctor has not set his hand to this.
Scon.
Seald with the seale at armes of our order, viz. Three
Rooks volant in a field sanguine, two broken jugs the supporters,
and a Twibill for the erest, and given the second day of this present
month, at our mansion royall, or place of meeting in the
long gravield walkes in our usuall fields.
Enter Doctor, Vrinall, Freewit, Sir Martine.
Sir Mar.
Well Master Doctor you'l remember me,
And have an eye unto my nephew, I trust
Her with you. Farewell sir.
Exit Sir Marti.
Doct.
Doubt it not good sir Martine.
Fort.
Captaine Pirke pray retire unto the brothers of our
Society: entreat them to prepare againe to morrow, for
My cosen Sconces enfeasement.
Pirk.
Upon compulsion sir, I should refuse, marry on faire entreaty
I doe flye, good and high fates looke on you.
Doct.
Sonne Sconce (I'm bold to call you so) how do's your
arme?
Scon.
Indifferent sir, but yet I have not found
That rare effect ith' weapon salve you spoake of,
Vrinall I feare since it cur'd the two serjeants and their
Yeomen, the vertue has beene much extenuated.
Doct.
Twas you ill dressing the weapon: give me your sword
shall save my credit. (Annoints the weapon.)
Now Vrinall take
this weapon, lap it warme in linnen cloaths, and locke it in my
sonne, your anguish sonne will soone be mitigated.
Scon.
I have a touch of it already sir.
Fro.
I have seene experience of this weapon salve, and by its
most mysterious working knowne some men hurt, past the helpe
of surgery recover'd.
Mix.
Marke you that master Sconce, the gentleman may be believ'd.
Free.
Yet I cannot
With my laborious industry invent
A reason why it should doe this, and therefore
Transcending naturall causes, I conclude
The use unlawfull.
Scon.
He is unlawfully begotten sir, dares tearme it so, there
was a touch for him cosen Fortresse; I cald him sonne of a
whore, and he would take no notice of it.
Doct.
But pray sir, why should it be unlawfull?
Free.
Cause Conscience and religion disallow
In the recovery of our impair'd healths,
The assistance of a medicine made by charmes,
Or subtle spells of witchcraft.
Scon.
his mother was a witch, saies this maide, so there was
another touch for him cosen Fortresse, son of a witch, but he understands
not that neither.
Doct.
Conceive you this to be compounded so?
Free.
Ile prove it master Doctor.
Scon.
The proofe of a pudding is the eating, in your teeth sir,
a pudding in his teeth: you know what I meane cosen Fortresse,
another touch for him, but al's one, he has wit in's anger, and will
not understand me.
Fors.
If he durst blunder for it Cosen Sconce.
Free.
Yet to avoide a tedious argument,
Since our contention's only for discourse,
And to instruct my knowledge, pray tell me,
Assume you not that this same salve will cure
At any distance (as if the person hurt
On which his blood is.
Doct.
All this is granted 'twill.
Scon.
Nay we'l grant you more sir (that it will not) and yet
prove it, and you shall prove your selfe a (so you shall.) There
had been another touch for him cosen Fortresse, but I fear'd hee
would have understood me now, ere you shall prove it.
Fort.
Silence cosen Sconce, let's heare the whiffler if he cannot
verifie his words, sink me my Jo, he shall taste arme of dangerfield.
Free.
Out of your words sir Ile prove it Diabolicall, no cause
Naturall; begets the most contemn'd effect,
Without a passage through the meanes, the fire
cannot produce another fire untill
it be apply'd to subject apt to take
Its flaming forme, nor can a naturall cause,
Worke at incompetent space: how then can this
Neither consign'd to th'matter upon which
Its operation is to cause effect;
Nay at so farre a distance, worke so great
And admirable a cure beyond the reach
And law of nature; yet by you maintain'd,
A naturall lawfull agent, what dull sence can credit it.
Scon.
Very authenticke this, well if the divell have tane the
paines to be my surgion, my arme I feare will be possest, I feele
an evill spirit in it already.
Fort.
Respect the Doctors answer.
Doct.
Sir, you speake reason, I must confesse, but every cause
Workes not the same way; we distinguish thus:
Some by a Physicall and reall touch
Produce: So Carvers hewing the rough Marble,
Frame a well polish'd statue: but there is
A virtuall contact too: which other causes
Imploy in acting their more rare effects,
So the bright Sun does in the solid earth,
By the infusive vertue of his raies,
Convert the sordid substance of the mold
To Mines of mettall, and the piercing ayre
And yet you cannot say the chilly hand
Of ayre, or quickning fingers of the Sunne,
Really touch the water or the earth.
The Load-stone so by operative force,
Causes the Iron which has felt his touch,
To attract another Iron; nay, the Needle
Of the ship guiding compasse, to respect
The cold Pole Articke; just so the salve workes,
Certaine hidden causes convay its powerfull
Vertue to the wound from the annointed
Weapon, and reduce it to welcome soundnesse.
Scon.
The salve is legitimate agen, Cosen Fortesse, O rare
Doctor.
Mix.
Nay, you shall heare him tickle the gentlemen I warrant
you.
Free.
This, Mr. Doctor, is
A weake evasion, and your purities
Have small affinity; the glorious Sunne
As tis a generall instrument of heaven,
In all its great productions, and the Ayre
An Elementall agent, naturally
Ingender Mettalls in the earth, and Ice
On the selfe frisling waters: The Load-stone
As tis a simple body, may afford
That vertue to the steele by secret power
Of all-commanding nature. But that this,
This weapon salve, a compound, should affect
More than the purest bodies can, by wayes
More wonderfull than they doe, as apply'd
Unto a sword a body voyd of life,
Yet it must give life, or at least preserve it.
Scon.
Pish, he talkes like an Apothecary to the Doctor.
Doct.
You mistake, it does not,
Tis the blood sticking to the sword atchieves
The cure: there is a reall simpathy
Twixt it and that which has the juyce of life,
Moystens the body wounded.
Rare Paracelsian, thy Annalls shall be cut in Brasse by
Pen of steele.
Free.
You may as well
Report a reall simpathy betweene
The nimble soule in its swift flight to heaven.
And the cold carkasse it has lately left,
As a loath'd habitation: blood, when like
The sap of Trees, which weepes upon the Axe
Whose cruell edge does from the aged Trunke
Dissever the green Branches from the Veines,
Ravish'd, forgoes his Native heate, and has
No more relation to the rest, than some
Desertlesse servant, whom his Lord casts off,
Has to his vertuous fellowes.
Enter Mistris Know-worth.
Know.
Mr. Free-wit return'd agen, and in discourse
With Mr. Doctor: Ile not disturbe your conference.
Doct.
So please your Ladyship we had even done.
I am glad she's come to rescue me.
Scon.
There was a touch for him Cosen Fortresse, victus, victa,
victum, he lookes like a Schoole-boy vanquish'd at capping verses:
harke you sir, repent your errour, and in time you may bee
sav'd; you see the vertue of the salve the Doctor had dress'd his
Speaking weapon with it. It hurt you, and it has cured you Beware
you fall not into a relapse: there was another touch for
him Cosen Fortresse. Doctor give your hand (father I should
have said) some fam'd Historian, some Gallo-Belgious shal Chronicle
thee and thy salve, there was a touch for him Cosen Fortresse.
Come you shall see my Mistris.
Exeunt Sconce, Fortresse, Mixum, and Doctor.
Know.
Mr. Freewit have you yet found the injur'd
Woman out, I motioned at last parting?
Free.
Truely Mistris, had she bin worthy the seeking, your
Command should not have beene protracted, but
'Twere a staine to my owne honour to be inquisitive
After a prostitute, and a blot to your
Discretion, should nice judgements know you enjoyn'd me
So manifest a folly.
'Twas a greater to be the authour of her shame,
Whom now you slight so infinitely.
Free.
Could I slight her more,
'Twere a due justice which I owe my selfe,
(In hazarding the forfeit of your love)
Undone by her, but your most serious thoughts
Will sure convert your soule from the intent
Of my most certaine ruine, which your last
Discourse perhaps, for triall of my faith,
Seem'd to invert upon me.
Know.
You mistake; needlesse are second trialls, when a first
Proves you perfidious; doubtlesse you confirm'd
Your love to her, with the same sad protests
You've done to me (yet left her) for her sake,
And in revenge of womans innocence, martyr'd by you,
I here to heaven pronounce a sure disjunction
Of our loves and vowes for ever.
Free.
O reserve that breath,
Which ought like sacred incense to be spent
Onely on heaven, or in delivering notes
May charme the world to peace, when raging warres
Or Earth quakes have affrighted it. Consum't
On no such use, horrid and ominous,
As if it threatned thunder to the earth,
Or would infect the genius of the ayre
With Mists contagious (as if compos'd
Of Viper steame) O had you were wont
To be so good, that vertue would have sigh'd
(At the unwelcome spectacle) if you
Had appeard woman in a passion,
(Though of the slightest consequence) O do not
Renounce that Saint-like temper, it will be
A change hereafter burthenous to your soule,
As sinne to one, who all his life time blest
With peace of Conscience, at his dying minute,
Falls into mortall enmity with heaven,
And perishes eternally.
Know.
These words
When I was confident, as day of light,
Your youth had beene as destitute of vice
As of deformity. So a sweet streame,
Whose bubling harmony allur'd the Birds
To court its moving musicke, when it mixes
With impure waters, with the noyse affrights
The eares, before delighted in it.
Free.
This is too severe a Justice, and extends
To cruelty, had some intemperate rage
Purpled my hand in murther (though the guilt
Would have beene written in a larger Text
In Conscience blacke booke; yet the punishment
Had not bin halfe so hideous. I should for that
Have suffered but a temporary paine
At worst; and my truely repentant soule
Perhaps have had free entrance to the place
consign'd to penitents, when now, like some
Manacled Captive, or diseased wretch,
On whom each minute does beget a death:
I like a slow fire by my owne soft flames,
VVith Tortoyse speed extinguish.
Know.
Sir, your words are superficiall, as a shadow which
The morning Sunne produces and blacke night
Renders forgotten: and no more excite
Beliefe in me: that what you utter's truth,
Then Mand rakes groanes doe a conceite of death
In persons resolute while I have yet
Aspecious memory left, that once my heart
Tendred you dearly; I would counsell you
First to indeavour to finde out that maid,
(If that succeed not) not to thinke on me,
As one affianc'd to you by a neerer interest then other women
Are that never had conversation with you.
Free.
Had a frost, sharpe as a tedious winters Northerne blasts,
Congeal'd your mercy, my unfained teares
Should with moyst warmth dissolve it, mistris you
Approach so neare the attributes of heaven,
More pretious gums had fum'd upon your altars,
Then on all female eities. O forgive me,
A rigorous tyrants breath will scarce pronounce
For one and the first crime, so strict a sentence:
You shall not goe yet if you will recall it,
Lovers will blesse your piety, and subscribe to your
Superlative goodnesse.
Know.
Pray desist, affoord me liberty to retire, I cannot alter
my resolution.
Free.
Yet reclaime it; some divells spleene has lately fraught boistrous winds,
Your brest, and banish'd thence milde pitty,
Force so the gentle and untroubled seas,
To swallow up some ships, its naturall calmenesse
Would have transported safely with their wealth
To their desired harbors) were my thoughts,
Not fix'd with that religion upon you
That are my prayers (when I repent) on heaven,
I should not thus transcend the lawes and strength
Of manhood, and like some distressed babe
Left by its parent to the desolate woodes,
Or ayres cold charity, so long implore
A new and holier union twixt our soules,
Then ere had link'd them: which when you have tied,
Time shall depend like summer on your brow,
And your whole life be one continued youth,
(Such were the springs in paradise) and when
You passe to be a sharer in heavens blisse,
Virgins and innocent lovers spotlesse teares,
Hardned to pearle by the strong heat of sighes
Shall be your monument.
Know.
I shall relent spight of my setled will, if he continue
These moving supplications: Sir because
You shall not blame my cruelty, or judge
Tis for regard of any thing but my honour,
I doe forsake you, if ere to morrow night
You finde that woman, get her to renounce
Freely her title to you, I agen
Will stand the triall of your wavering faith,
Perhaps be yours agen: you have
Receiv'd my utmost meaning,
Exit Know.
Free.
How I adore
This constancy of worth in her, though
It make against my selfe, well I must to my taske,
That labour's richest that most paines doth ask.
| The Hollander | |