 | Lady alimony |  |
Actus primus.
Scæna prima.
Enter Trillo.Trillo.
Hey Boyes!—Never did my Spirit
chirp more chearfully since I had one.
Here is work for Platonicks. Never did.
Ladies, brave buxom Girles dispence at
easier rates with their forfeited Honours.
This were an excellent age for that Roman
Carvilius to live in: who never lov'd any sheets worser
then those his Wife lay in. Nor his Wife any lodging
worse, then where her decrepit Consort slept in. Divorces
are now as common, as scolding at Billingsgate. O Alimony,
Alimony a Darling incomparably dearer, then a
seere-icy Bed possest of the spirit of a dull unactive Husband!
A fresh flowry Spring, and a chill frosty Winter never
suit well together. He were a rare Justice in these
times of Separation, who had the Ceremonial art to joyn
Hearts together as well as Hands: but that Chymical Cement
is above the Alchymy of his Office: or verge of his
ministerial Charge.—Hey day! who comes here? The
very profest Smock-satyr, or Woman-hater in all Europe.
One, who had he lived in that State or under that Zone,
might have compared with any Swetnam in all the Albyon,
Island.
Scen. 2.
Enter Timon; Siparius, and a Page.But sure he has some high design in hand, he pores so
fixtly upon the ground, as on my life he has some swinging
stuff for our fresh Dabrides, who have invested themselves
in the Platonick Order: and retain courage enough to
make an exchange of their old Consorts with their new
Confidents and amorous pretenders.—Let us hear him,
he mumbles so strangely, he must surely either disburthen
self, or stifle his teeming Birth for want of timely delivery.
Timon.
Good, as I live wondrous good: this is the way
to catch the old one. Be all things ready Siparius?
Sip.
How do you mean Sir?
Tim.
What a drolling bufflehead is this.—He has been
Book-holder to my Revels for decads of years, and the
Cuckoldry Drone, as if he had slept in Triphonius cave, all
his dayes, desires to know my meaning in the Track of his
own Calling!—Sir, shall I question you in your own Dialect?
Be your Stage-curtains artificially drawn, and so
covertly shrouded, as the squint-ey'd Groundling may not
peep in to your discovery?
Sipar.
Leave that care to me Sir; it is my charge.
Tim.
But were our Bills poasted, that our House may
be with a numerous Auditory stored; our Boxes by Ladies
of quality and of the new dress croudingly furnished; our
Galleries and Ground-front answerably to their Pay
compleated?
Sip.
Assure your self Sir, nothing is a wanting; that may
give way to the Poets improvement.
Tim.
Thou sayst well; this is indeed the Poets third
day: and must raise his Pericranium deeply steep'd in Frontineack,
a fair revenue for his rich Timonick Fancy; or he
must take a long adue of the spirit of Sack and that noble
Napry till the next Vintage.—But Siparius.
Sip.
Your will Sir.
Tim.
Besure, that you hold not your Book at too much
distance: the Actors, poor Lapwings, are but pen-feathred:
and once out, out for ever. We had a time, indeed,
the Actor could imbellish his Author, and return a Pean
to his Pen in every accent. But our great disaster at Cannæ,
then which none ever more tragical to our Theatre, made
a speedy dispatch of our rarest Roscio's, closing them joyntly
in one Funeral Epilogue.—Now for you Boy, as you
play the Chorus, so be mindful of your Hint. I know you
to be a Wag by nature; and you must play the Waggish
Actor.
Page.
I shall not sleep in my action Sir; if your line
have so much life as to provoke a laughter; I shall not
strangle the height of your Conceit with a dull gesture:
nor weaken the weight of your Plot with too flat or unbecoming
a deportment.
Tim.
Thou promisest fairly; go on.
Trillo.
And so does Timon too, or his judgement fails
him.—Well, I will accoast him.—Health to our stock
of Stoical wit, ingenious Timon.—Come Sir, what brave
Dramatick Piece has your running Mercury now upon the
Loom? The Title of your new Play, Sir?
Tim.
Every Poast may sufficiently inform you: nay the
Fame of the City cannot chuse but eccho it to you: so
much is expected: neither shall you discover a Mouse
peeping out of a Mountain, believe it.
Trillo.
No; nor a Monkey dancing his Trick-a-tee on a
Rope, for want of strong Lines from the Poets pen.
Tim.
You are ith' right on't, Trillo; These Pigmies of
mine shall not play the egregious Puppies in deluding an
ignorant Rabble with the sad presentment of a
Trillo.
Your Conceit is above the scale of admiration.
—But the Subject of your Invention, Sir, where may you
lay your Scene: and what Name you bestow upon this
long expected Comedy?
Tim.
My Scene, Trillo, is
Horn-Alley: the Name itbears, is Lady Alimony. The Subject I shall not preoccupate:
Let the Fancies of my thirsty Auditory fall a
working; if ever their small expence confined to three
disclaim my Society with an happy Genius: and bestow
the remainder of my time in catching Flyes with Domitian.
Trillo.
Excellent, Excellent. I am confident your acrimonious
spirit will dis-curtain our Changeable-taffaty Ladies
to an hair.
Tim.
Thou know'st my humour; and let me perish, if I
do not pursue it. Thou hast heard no doubt, how I never
found any branch more pleasingly fruitful, nor to my view
more grateful, then when I found a Woman hanging on
it: wishing heartily that all Trees in mine Orchard bore
such fruit.
Tril.
If your wish had prov'd true, no doubt but your
Orchard would have rendred you store of Medlers.
—But your hour, Sir, your hour.
Tim.
You know, Trillo, our Theatral time to a minute.
One thing I must tell you; and you will attest it upon our
Presentment: That never was any Stage, since the first
erection of our ancient Roman Amphitheaters, with suitable
Properties more accurately furnished: with choiser
Musick more gracefully accommodated: nor by Boyes,
though young, with more virile spirits presented.
Tril.
I'm already nouz'd in your Poetical Springe: and
shall henceforth wish for your sake, that all Crop-ear'd
Histriomastixes, who cannot endure a civil witty Comedy,
but by his rackt exposition renders it down-right Drollery,
may be doom'd to Ancyrus, and skip there amongst
Satyrs, for his rough and severe censure.
Tim.
Parnassus is a debtor to thee Trillo for thy clear
and serene opinon of the Muses and their individual Darling:
of which Meniey, to imprint our Addresses all the
better in your memory, our Stage presents ever the most
lively and lovely fancy:
“Th'Age must admire it, or it has no Wit.
Tril.
Yet I have heard Timon, that you were sometimes
Stoical, and could not endure the noise of an Enterlude,
Tim.
All this is most authentically true: But shall I unbosom
my self ingeniously to thee, my dear Trillo? As
his hate to Woman made Eupolis eat Nettle pottage; so
became I fired in my spirit: my experience of a Shrow
drove me to turn the shrewd Comedian: and yet all our
Boxes are stor'd with compleat Doxes: nay some, whose
carriage gives life to this days action.
Tril.
May the Poets day prove fair and fortunate: full
Audience and honest Door-keepers. I shall perchance
rank my self amongst your Gallery-men.
Tim.
We shall hold our Labours incomparably heightned
by the breath of such approved Judgements.
Sir, here is a proud peremptory pragmatical Fellow
newly come into our Tyring-room, who disturbs our preparation;
vowing like a desperate Haxter, that he has express
Command to seize upon all our Properties.
Tim.
The Devil he has; what furious Mercury might
this be?
Mes.
Nay, Sir, I know not what he may be, but sure
if he be what he seems to be, he can be no less then one of
our City Hectors, but I hope your spirit will conjure him,
and make him a Clinias.—He speaks nothing less then
braving Buff-leather Language: and has made all our
Boyes so feverish, as if a Quotidian Ague had seiz'd on
them.
Tim.
Sure it is one of our Trapanning Decoyes, sent
forth for a Champion to defend those Ladies engaged
honour, whom our Stage is this day to present: This shall
not serve their turn.—Call him in; we will collar him.
Tril.
Hah-hah-hah! This will prove rare sport, to see
how the Poets Genius will grapple with this Bandog.
Scen. 3.
Enter Haxter.Hax.
Sir!
Tim.
Surly, Sir, your design!
Hax.
To ruine your Design, illicentiate Play-wright.
Tim.
Your Bill cannot do it Sir.
Hax.
But my Commission shall Sir.—Can you read
Sir?
Tim.
Yes Sir, and write too, else were I not fit for this
imployment.
He reads the Paper.
Tril.
With what a scurvy skrude look the Myrmidon
eyes him?—He will surely bastinado our Comedian out
of his Laureat Periwig:—Hold him tugg Poet, or thou
runs thy Poetical Pinnace on a desperate shelf.
Tim.
What bugbear has your terrible Bladeship brought
us here? A Mandat from one of our own society, to blanch
the credit of our Comedy! You'r in a wrong Box, Sir, this
will not do't,
Hax.
You dare not disobey it.
Tim.
Dare not! A word of high affront to a profest
Parnassian: I dare exchange in pen with you and your
penurious Poetasters Pike: and if your valour or his swell
to that height or heat as it will admit no other cooler but
a down-right scuffle, let wit perish and fall a wool-gathering,
if with a chearful brow I leave not the precious
Rills of Hippocrene, and wing my course for Campus
Martius.
Hax.
Slid this Musæus is a Martiallist; and if I had
not held him a feverish white liver'd staniel, that would
never have encountred any but the seven sisters; that
Knight of the Sun, who imploy'd me, should have done
his errand himself: well, I would I were out of his clutches:
The onely way then is to put on a clear face, lest I
bring a storm upon my self.—Vertuous Sir, what answer
will your ingenuity be pleased to return by your most
humble and obsequious vassal?
Tim.
Ho Sir; are you there with you Bears! How this
Gargantua's spirit begins to thaw?—Sirra, you Punto
of valour—
Hax.
I have indeed; puissant Sir, been in my time, rallied
amongst those Blades: but it has been my scorn of late
to ingage my Tuck upon unjust grounds.
Tucca, thy valour is infinitely beholden to thy discretion.—
But pray thee resolve me, art thou made known
to the purport of thine errand?
Hax.
In part I am.
Tim.
And partly I will tell thee, this squirt squibbe,
wherewith that pragmatical Monopolist Nasutius Neapolitanus
has here imploy'd thee to obstruct our Action,
shall be receiv'd and return'd with as much scorn, as it
was sent us with spiteful impudence:—Let him come, if
he like; he may trouble himself and his own impoverish'd
patience: but we shall sleight him on our Stage, and tax
him of frontless insolence.
Hax.
You shall do well Sir.
Tim.
Well or ill, Sir, we will do it.—Pray tell me
brave Spark, what Archias may this be, who takes thus
upon him to excize the Revenues of our Theatral Pleasure
to his purse? Be his monopolizing brains of such extent,
as they have power to ingross all Inventions to his
Coffer: all our Stage-action to his Exchequer?
Hax.
I would be loath to praise him too much, because
your transcendent self prize him so little—but his Travels
have highly improv'd his expression.
Tim.
We know it Don, and he knows it too, to his advantage.
—But no man knows the issue of his Travel better
then Timon. It is true, he addrest his course for
Malagasco: but for what end? to learn hard words;
school himself in the Utopian tongue: and to close up
all, he stickt not, Xerxes-like, to deface Bridges, in the
ruines whereof poor Gentleman, he irreparably suffered.
Hax.
To my knowledge, be speaks no more then authentick
truth: For I my self in my own proper person
got a snap by a Neapolitan Ferret at the very same time.
Ever since which hot Ætnean service, my legs have been
taught to pace Iambicks: and jadishly to enterfear upon
any condition.
This to himself.
Tim.
Thus much for your dispatch; onely this:—Be
it your civility, valiant Don, to present my service to his
Naked Savages; Monkeys, Babouns and Marmosites:
henceforth content his hydroptick thoughts with his own
Box-holders; and lest he lose by his out-landish Properties,
be it his care to pick out some Doxes of his own, lest
those She-sharks whom he has imploy'd upon that trading
occasion, abuse his confidence.
Hax.
Your Commands, Sir, shall be observ'd with all
punctuality.
Tim.
Do so brave Don, lest I call you to account, and
return your wages with a Bastinado.—But withall tell
that Cockspur your magnificent Mecænas, that he keep at
home, and distemper not our Stage with the fury of his
visits: lest he be incountred by my little Tarriers, which
will affright him more then all his Spanish Gipsies.
Hax.
Account me, invincible Sir, your most serviceable
slave upon all interest.—Well, I have secur'd my crazie
Bulk as well from a basting as ever mortal did. And if ever
I be put on such desperate adventures again, let this weak
raddish body of mine become stuck round with cloves,
and be hung up for a gammon of Westphalia bacon to all
uses and purposes.
Exit.
Tril.
So! you have conjur'd down the spirit of one furious
Haxter.
Scen. 4.
Tim.And just so must all our Tavern Tarmagons be
us'd; or they'l Trapan you, as they did that old scarifide
Fryer; whose bitter experiences furnish'd with ability
enough to discover their carriage and his feverish distemper.
Boy.
Sir, all our Boxes are already stored and seated
with the choicest and eminentst Damasella's that all Sivil
can afford: Besides Sir, all our Galleries and Groundstands
are long ago furnished: The Groundlings within
the yard grow infinitely unruly.
Tim.
Go to Boy; this Plebeian incivility must not precipitate
the course of our Action.—How oft have they
sounded?
Boy.
They'r upon the last sound; but our expectance
our entry.
Tim.
These Comick Presentments may properly resemble
our Comet Apparitions; where their first darting
beget impressions of an affectionate wonder, or prophetick
astonishment. The world I must confess, is a Ball
racketed above the line and below into every hazard: but
whimseys and careers challenge such influence over the
Judgement of our gallant refined Wits; as their Fancies
must be humoured, and their humours tickled, or they leave
our rooms discontented. So as, the Comedians Garden
must finde Lettice for all lips: or the disrelish'd Poet must
be untruss'd, and paid home with a swinging censure.—
This must be my fate, for I can expect no less from these
Satyrical Madams; whose ticklish resentment of their injured
honour will make them kick before they be gall'd:
but Timon is arm'd Cap a Pe against all such feminine Assailants.
They shall finde my Sceans more modest, then
some of their actions have merited.—And I must tell
thee one thing by the way my ingenious Trillo, that I never
found more freedom in my spritely Genius, then in the
—But time and conveniences of the Stage enjoyn me to
leave thee.—Make choice of thy place, and expect the
sequele.
Tril.
May your Acts live to a succeeding age,
And th'Ladies Alimony enrich your Stage.
Exeunt.
| Lady alimony | |