 | The Mvses Looking-glasse |  |
Actvs 3.
Scena I.
Roscius. Bird. Flowrdew.Bird.
I will no more of this abomination.
Rosc.
The end crownes every action, stay till that.
Iust Iudges will not be prejudicate.
Flow.
Pray sir continue still the moralizing.
Rosc.
The next we present are the extreams of Magnificence,
who teaches a Decorum in great expences, as Liberality
in the lesser: One is Banausus, out of a meere ostentation
vaine-gloriously expensive; the other Microprepes one
inglorious works extreamly base and penurious.
Banausus. Microprepes.
Banau.
Being borne not for our selves but for our freinds,
Our country and our glory, it is fit
We doe expresse the majesty of our soules
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Micro.
The world is full of vanity, and fond fooles
Promise themselves a name from building Churches
Or any thing that tends to the Republique,
'Tis the Re-private that I study for.
Banau.
First therefore for the fame of my Republique,
I'le imitate a brave Ægyptian King,
And plant such store of onions, and of garlike,
As shall maintaine so many thousand workmen,
To th'building of a Pyamid at Saint Albons,
Vpon whose top I'le set a hand of brasse,
With a scrowle in't to shew the way to London,
For th'benefit of Travellers.
Colax.
Excellent!
'Tis charity to direct the wandring Pilgrim.
Micro.
I am Church-warden, and we are this yeare
To build our steeple up, now to save charges
I'le get a high crown'd hat with five Low-bels
To make a peale shall serve as well as Bow.
Colax.
'Tis wisely cast,
And like a carefull steward of the Church,
Of which the Steeple is no part, at least
No necessary one.
Bird.
Verily 'tis true.
They are but wicked Synagogues where those instruments
Of Superstition and Idolatry
Ring warning to sinne, and chime all in to the Divell.
Banau.
And 'cause there is such swarmes of heresies rising:
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Of Gold, to set on Pauls, and Grantam Steeple,
To shew to all the Kingdome what fashion next
The Wind of Humour hither means to blow.
Micro.
A wicker chaire will fit them for a Pulpit.
Colax.
It is the Doctrine sir that you respect.
Flow.
Insooth I have heard as wholsome instructions
From a zealous wicker chaire, as e're I did
From the carv'd Idoll of wainscoat.
Banau.
Next, I intend to found an Hospitall
For the decay'd Professours of the Suburbs,
With a Colledge of Physitians too at Chelsy
Only to study the cure of the French Poxe;
That so the sinners may acknowledge me
Their only benefactor, and repent.
Colax.
You have a care sir of your countrie's health.
Micro.
Then I will sell the lead to thatch the Chancell.
Ban.
I have a rare device to set Dutch windmills
Vpon New-market Heath, and Salisbury Plaine,
To draine the Fens.
Colax.
The Fens sir are not there.
Ban.
But who knowes but they may be:
Col.
Very right:
You aime at the prevention of a danger.
Micro.
A Porters frock shall serve me for a surplice.
Flow Indeed a Frock is not so Ceremonious.
Ban.
But the great work in which I mean to glory,
Is in the raising a Cathedrall Church:
It shall be at Hoggs-Norton, with a paire
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The Piggs should loose their skill for want of practice!
Bird.
Organs! fye on them for Babylonian Bagpipes!
Micro.
Then for the painting, I bethink my selfe
That I have seene in mother Red-caps Hall
In painted cloath the story of the Prodigall.
Cola.
And that will be for very good use and morall.
Sir you are wise; what serve Ægyptian Pyramids,
Ephesian Temples, Babylonian Towers,
Carian Coloss'es, Traians water-workes,
Domitians Amphitheaters, the vaine cost
Of ignorance and prodigalitie!
Rome flourish'd when her Capitoll was thatch'd,
And all her Gods dwelt but in Cottages.
Since Parian marble and Corynthian brasse
Enter'd her gawdy Temples, soone shee fell
To superstition, and from thence to ruine.
You see that in our Churches, glorious Statues
Rich Copes, and other ornaments of state
Draw wandring eyes from their devotion,
Vnto a wanton gazing, and that other
Rich edifices, and such gorgeous toyes
Doe more proclaime our countries wealth then safety,
And serve but like so many guilded baits
T'entice a forreigne Foe to our invasion.
Goe in, there is a Glasse will shew you sir,
What sweet simplicity our Grandsires us'd,
How in the Age of Gold no Church was guilded.
Exit. Micro.
Banau.
O I have thought on't, I will straight way build
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For th'education of young Gentlemen
To study how to drinke, and take Tobacco,
To sweare, to roare, to dice, to drab, to quarrell:
Twill be the great Gymnasium of the Realme,
The Phrontisterium of great Britayny.
And for their better study I will furnish them
With a large Library of Drapers bookes.
Colax.
'Twill put down Bodlies, and the Vatican.
Royall Banausus! how many Sphears fly you
Above the earthy dull Microprepes!
I hope to live to see you build a stewes
Shall out-brave Venice; To repaire old Tiburne
And make it Cedar. This magnificent course
Doth purchase you an immortality.
In them you build your Honour to remaine
Th example and the wonder of Posterity.
While other hidebound Churles doe grutch thēselves
The Charges of a Tombe.
Ban.
But Ile have one
In which Ile lye embalm'd with Mirrhe and Cassia,
And richer unguents then th'Ægyptian Kings.
And all that this my pretious Tombe may furnish
The Land with Mummye.
Colax.
Yonder is a Glasse
Will shew you plots and models of all monuments
Form'd the old way, you may invent a new
'Twill make for your more glory.
Ban.
Colax true.
Exit.
Rosc.
These are the extreams of Magnanimity. Caunus a
fellow so highly conceited of his own parts, that he thinks
43
no honour above him; the other Micropsychus a base and
low spirited fellow, that undervaluing his own qualities,
dares not aspire to those dignities, that otherwise his merits
are capable of.
Scen. 2.
Caunus. Micropsychus.Cau.
I wonder that I hear no newes from Court!
Colax.
All haile unto the honourable Caunus.
Cau.
The honourable Caunus? Tis decreed
I am a Privy Counsellor; our new honors
Cannot so alter us as that we can
Forget our Friends, walk with us our familiar.
Micro.
It puzles me to think what worth I have,
That they should put so great an honour on me.
Colax.
Sir I doe know, and see, and so doe all
That have not wilfull blindnesse, what rare skill
Of wisdome, Policy, Iudgement and the rest
Of the state-vertues sit within this brest,
As if it were their Parliament; but as yet
I am not Sir the happy Messenger
That tels you you are cal'd unto the Helme;
Or that the Rudder of great Britany
Is put into your Hands, that you may steere
Our floating Delos till she be arriv'd
At the blest Port of Happinesse, and surnam'd
The Fortunate Isle from you that are the fortunate.
Cau.
'Tis strange that I the best experienc'd
44
Should not be yet a Privy Counsellour!
Surely the State wants eyes, or has drunke opium
And sleepes; but when it wakes it cannot chuse
But meet the glorious beams of my deserts
Bright as the rising Sunne, and say to England,
England behold thy light!
Micro.
Make me a constable!
Make me that am the simplest of my neighbours
So great a Magistrate! so powrfull an officer!
I blush at my unworthinesse: a Constable!
The very Prince o'th' parish! you are one Sir
Of an ability to discharge it better,
Let me resigne to you.
Cau.
How? I a Constable?
What might I be in your opinion Sir?
Micro.
A Carpenter of worship,
Cau.
Very well;
And yet you would make me a Constable.
I'le evidently demonstrate that of all men
Your Carpentes are best States-men; of all Carpenters
I being the best, am best of Statesmen too:
Imagine Sir the Common-wealth a Logge,
Or a rude block of wood; your States-man comes,
(For by that word I mean a Carpenter)
And with the sawe of Policy divides it
Into so many boards or severall orders,
Of Prince, Nobility, Gentry, and the other
Inferiour boards calld Vulgar, fit for nothing
But to make styles, or planks to be trod over,
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Call'd Common-wealth at least some smal perfection:
But afterwards he plains them, and so makes
The Common-wealth, that was before a board,
A pretty Wainscoat; some he carves with Titles
Of Lord, or Knight, or Gentleman; Some stand plain,
And serve us more for use then Ornament,
We call them Yeomen; (Boards now out of fashion.)
And lest the disproportion breake the frame,
He with the peggs of amity and concord,
As with the glew-pot of good Government
Ioynts 'em together, makes an absolute Edifice
Of the Re-publique: State-skill'd Machiavell
Was certainly a Carpenter; yet you thinke
A Constable a Gyant Dignity.
Micro.
Pray Heaven that Icarus-like I doe not melt
The waxen plumes of my ambition!
Or that from this bright Chariot of the Sunne
I fall not headlong down with Phaeton,
I have aspir'd so high: make me a Constable
That have not yet attain'd to the Greeke tongue!
Why 'tis his office for to keepe the peace,
His Majesties Peace: I am not fit to keepe
His Majesties Hoggs, much lesse his Peace, the best
Of all his jewells: How dare I presume
To charge a man in the Kings name! I faint
Vnder the burthen of so great a place,
Whose weight might presse down Atlas: Magistrates
Are only Sumpter-horses. Nay they threaten me
To make me Warden of the Church.
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To present Knights-Recusant, Clergy-Reelers,
Or Gentlemen-Fornicators?
Colax.
You have worth
Richly enamel'd with a modesty.
And though your lofty merit might sit crown'd
On Caucasus, or the Pyrenean mountaines,
You choose the humbler valley, and had rather
Grow a safe shrub below, then dare the winds,
And be a Cedar: Sir you know there is not
Halfe so much honour in the Pilots place
As danger in the storme. Poore windy Titles
Of Dignity, and offices that puffe up
The bubble pride till it swell big, and burst,
What are they but brave nothings? Toies cal'd Honours
Make them on whom they are bestow'd no better
Then glorious slaves, the servants of the Vulgar:
Men sweat at Helme, as much as at the Oare.
There is a Glasse within shall shew you sir
The vanity of these silke-wormes, that doe think
They toile not, 'cause they spin so fine a thread.
Micro.
I'le see it. Honour is a babies rattle,
And let blind Fortune where she will, bestow her;
Lay me on earth, and I shall fall no lower.
Exit.
Cau.
Colax what newes?
Col.
The Persian Emperour
Is desperatly sick.
Cau.
Heaven take his soule!
When I am the Grand Sophie, as 'tis likely
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Col.
The Turke they say prepares again for Poland.
Cau.
And I no Basshaw yet? Sultan repent it!
Col.
The State of Venice too is in distraction.
Cau.
And can that State be so supinely negligent,
As not to know whom they may choose their Duke?
Col.
Our Merchants doe report th'inhabitants there
Are now in consultation, for the setling
The Crown upon a more deserving head
Then his that bears it.
Cau.
Then my fortunes rise
On confident wings, and all my hopes fly certain.
Colax be bold: thou seest the Prester Iohn.
Well England, of all Countries in the World
Most blind to thy own good. other Nations
Wooe me to take the bridle in my hands
With gifts and presents, had I liv'd in Rome
Who durst with Caunus stand a candidate?
I might have choice of Ædile, Consull, Tribune,
Or the perpetuall Dictators place.
I could discharge 'em all: I know my merits
Are large, and boundlesse: A Cesar might be hewed
Out of a Carpenter, if a skilfull workman
But undertooke it.
Colax.
Tis a worthy confidence.
Let Birds of night and shame, with their owles eyes
Not dare to gaze upon the sunne of Honour;
They are no presidents for Eagles: Bats
Like dull Micropsychus; things of earth, and lead,
May love a private safety; men in whom
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Mount upwards like a flame, and court bright honour
Hedg'd in with thousand dangers! Whats a man
Without desert? and what's desert to him
That does not know he has it? Is he rich
That holds within his house some buried chests
Of Gold, or Pearle, & knowes not where to look thē?
What was the Load-stone, till the use was found,
But a fowle dotard on a fowler Mistresse?
I praise your Argus eyes, that not alone
Shoote their beames forwards, but reflect and turne
Back on themselves, and finde an object there
More worthy their intentive contemplation.
You are at home no stranger, but are growne
Acquainted with your vertues, and can tell
What use the pearle is of, which Dunghill cocks
Scrape into dirt againe. This searching judgement
Was not intended to worke wood, but men.
Honour attends you. I shall live to see
A Diadem crowne that head. There is within
A Glasse that will acquaint you with all places
Of Dignity, authority, and renowne,
The State, and carriage of them: Choose the best,
Such as deserve you, and refuse the rest.
Cau.
I goe, that want no worth to merit honour;
'Tis honour that wants worth to merit mee.
Fortune, thou arbitresse of humane things
Thy credit is at stake: if I but rise
The Worlds opinion will conceive th'hast eyes.
Exit.
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Scen. 3.
Orgylus. Aorgus.Rosc.
These are the extreams of Meeknesse. Orgylus an
angry quarrelsome man, mov'd with the least shadow, or
appearance of Iniury. The other in defect, Aorgus, a fellow
so patient, or rather insensible of wrong, that he is not
capable of the grossest abuse.
Org.
Perswade me not, he has awak'd a fury
That carries steele about him. Daggs, and Pistolls!
To bite his thumb at me?
Aor.
Why should not any man
Bite his own thumbe?
Org.
At mee? weare I a sword
To see men bite their thumbs—Rapiers and Daggers!—
He is the sonne of a Whore.
Aor.
That hurts not you.
Had he bit yours, it had been some pretence
T'have mov'd this anger—he may bite his own,
And eate it too.
Org.
Muskets, and Canons!—eate it?
If he dare eate it in contempt of me,
He shall eate something else too that rides here;
Ile try his estridg stomack.
Aor.
Sir be patient.
Org.
You lye in your throat, and I will not.
Aor.
To what purpose is this impertinent madnesse?
Pray be milder.
Org.
Your Mother was a whore, & I will not put it up.
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Why should so slight toye thus trouble you?
Org.
Your Father was hang'd, and I will be reveng'd.
Aor.
When reason doth in equall ballance poize
The nature of two injuries, yours to me
Lyes heavy, when that other would not turne
An even scale; and yet it moves not mee;
My Anger is not up.
Org.
But I will raise it;
You are a foole!
Aor.
I know it, and shall I
Be angry for a truth?
Org.
You are besides
An arrant knave!
Aor.
So are my betters sir.
Org.
I cannot move him—O my spleen!—it rises,
For very anger I could eat my knuckles.
Aor.
You may, or bite your thumb all's one to mee.
Org.
You are horned beast, a very Cuckold!
Aor.
'Tis my wives fault, not mine, I have no reason
Then to be angry for anothers sinne.
Org.
And I did graft your horns, you might have come
And found us glewd together like two goats;
And stood a witnesse to your transformation.
Aor.
Why if I had, I am so farre from anger
J would have e'ne falne down upon my knees,
And desir'd heaven to have forgiven you both.
Org.
Your Children are all bastards, not one of them,
Vpon my knowledge, of your own begetting.
Aor.
Why then I am the more beholding to them
That they will call me father; it was lust
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'Tis charity to keepe the Infants.
Org.
Not yet stirr'd?
'Tis done of meere contempt, he will not now
Be angry, to expresse his scorne of me.
'Tis above patience this, insufferable.
Proclaime me coward, if I put up this!
Dotard you will be angry, will you not?
Aor.
To see how strange a course fond wrath doth goe!
You will be angry 'cause I am not so.
Or.
I, can endure no longer, if your spleene
Lye in your breech, thus I will kick it up.
Aor.
Alpha. Beta. Gamma. Delta. Epsylon. Zeta. Eta.
Theta. Iota. Kappa. Lamda. Mu. Nu. Xi. Omicron. Pi.
Ro. Sigma. Tau. Vpsilon. Phi. Chi. Psi. Omega.
Org.
How? what contempt is this?
Aor.
An antidote
Against the poison, Anger: 'twas prescrib'd
A Roman Emperour, that on every injury
Repeated the Greek Alphabet, that being done
His anger too was over. This good rule
I learn'd from him, and Practise.
Org.
Not yet angry?
Still will you vexe me? I will practise too?
(Kicks again)
Aor.
Aleph. Beth. Gimel.
Org.
What new Alphabet
Is this?
Aor.
The Hebrew Alphabet, that I use
A second remedy.
Org.
O my Torment! still?
52
Aor.
For ought I feele your toes have more occasion
For to be angry with my Buttocks.
Org.
Well,
I'le try your Physick for the third assault;
And exercise the patience of your nose.
Aor.
A.B.C.D.E.F.G.H.I.K.L.M.N.O.P.Q.R.S.T.
V.W.X.Y.Z.
Org.
Are you not angry now?
Aor.
Now sir, why now?
Now you have done.
Org.
O 'tis a meere plot this,
To jeere my tamenesse: will no sense of wrong
Waken the lethargy of a cowards soule?
Will not this rowse her from her dead sleepe, nor this?
Aor.
Why should I sir be angry; if I suffer
An injury, it is no guilt of mine;
No, let it trouble them, that doe the wrong;
Nothing but peace approaches innocence.
Org.
A bitternesse o'reflows me; my eyes flame,
My blood boyles in me, all my faculties
Of soule and body move in a disorder;
His patience hath so tortur'd me: Sirra villain
I will dissect thee with my rapiers point;
Rip up each veine, and sinewe of my storque,
Anatomize him, searching every entraile,
To see if nature, when she made this asse,
This suffering asse; did not forget to give him
Some gall!
Cola.
Put it up good Orgylus,
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As by your hand; it stands not with your honour
To stain your rapier in a cowards blood.
The Lybian Lions in their noble rage
Will prey on Bulls, or mate the Vnicorne;
But trouble not the painted butterflye;
Ants crawle securely by him.
Orgy.
'Tis intollerable!
Would thou wert worth the killing.
Colax.
A good wish,
Savouring as well discretion, as bold valour:
Think not of such a baffel'd asse as this,
More stone, then man: Medusa's head has turn'd him.
There is in ants a choler, every flye
Carries a spleene: Poore wormes being trampled on
Turne tayle, as bidding battaile to the feet
Of their oppressors. A dead palsy sure
Hath struck a desperate numnesse through his soule,
Till it be growne insensible: Meere stupidity
Hath ceaz'd him: Your more manly soule I find
Is capable of wrong, and like a flint
Throwes forth a fire into the strikers eyes.
You beare about you valours whetstone, anger;
Which sets an edge upon the sword, and makes it
Cut with a spirit: you conceive fond patience
Is an injustice to our selves, the suffering
One injury invites a second, that
Calls on a third, till wrongs doe multiply
And reputation bleed: How bravely anger
Becomes that martiall brow! A glasse within
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How fury darts a lightning from your eyes.
Org.
Learne anger sir against you meet me next;
Never was man like me with patience vext.
Exit.
Aor.
I am so farre from anger in my selfe,
That 'tis my grief I can make others so.
Colax.
It proves a sweetnesse in your disposition,
A gentle winning carriage—deare Aorgus
O give me leave to open wide my brest,
And let so rare a freind unto my soule;
Enter, and take possession: such a man
As has no gall, no bitternesse, no exceptions,
Whom nature meant a Dove, will keepe alive
The flame of amitie, where all discourse
Flowes innocent, and each free jest is taken.
Hee's a good freind will pardon his freinds errours,
But hee's a better takes no notice of them.
How like a beast with rude and savage rage
Breath'd the distemper'd soule of Orgylus?
The pronenesse of this passion is the Nurse
That fosters all confusion, ruines states,
Depopulates Cities, layes great Kingdomes wast;
'Tis that affection of the mind that wants
The strongest bridle; give it raines it runnes
A desperate course, and drags downe reason with it.
It is the whirlwind of the soule, the storme
And tempest of the mind, that raises up
The billowes of disturbed passions
To shipwrack Iudgment. O—a soule like yours
Constant in patience! Let the North wind meet
55
To Eurus; let the two and thirty sonnes
Of Eolus break forth at once, to plow
The Ocean, and dispeople all the woods,
Yet here could be a calme, it is not danger
Can make this cheeke grow pale, nor injury
Call blood into it. Their's a Glasse within
Will let you see your selfe, and tell you now
How sweet a tamenesse dwells upon your brow.
Aor.
Colax, I must believe, and therefore goe;
Who is distrustfull will be angry too.
Scen. 4.
Alazon. Eiron.Rosc.
The next are the extreames of Truth, Alazon one
that arrogates that to himselfe which is not his, and Eiron
one that out of an itch to be thought modest dissembles his
qualities; the one erring in defending a falshood, the other
offending in denying a truth.
Alaz.
I heare you're wondrous valiant.
Eir.
I! alas,
Who told you I was valiant?
Alaz.
The world speaks it.
Eir.
She is deceiv'd, but does she speak it truly?
Alaz.
I am indeed the Hector of the age;
But she calls you Achilles.
Eir.
I Achilles?
No, I am no Achilles: I confesse
I am no coward: That the world should think
56
Call me what she please.
Alaz.
Next to my valour,
Which but for yours could never hope a second,
Yours is reported.
Eir.
I may have my share;
But the last valour shew'd in Christendome
Was in Lepanto.
Alaz.
Valour in Lepanto?
He might be thought so sir, by them that knew him not;
But I have found him a poore baffel'd snake:
Sir, I have writ him, and proclaim'd him coward
On every post i'th' City.
Eiron.
Who?
Alaz.
Lepanto,
The valour sir that you so much renowne.
Eir.
Lepanto was no man sir, but the place
Made famous by the so-much mention'd battaile
Betwixt the Turks and Christians.
Alaz.
Cry you mercy!
Then the Lepanto that I meant, it seemes
Was but that Lepanto's name-sake. I can
Find that you are well skill'd in History.
Eir.
Not a whit; A novice, I! I could perchance
Discourse from Adam downward; but what's that
To History? All that I know is only
Th'originall, continuance, height, and alteration
Of every Common wealth. I have read nothing
But Plutarch, Livy, Tacitus, Suetonius,
Appian, Dion, Iunius, Paterculus,
57
More of the Latine: For the moderne, I
Have all without book Gallo-belgicus,
Phillip De-Comino, Machiavele, Guiccardine,
The Turkish and Ægyptian Histories,
With those of Spaine, France, and the Netherlands.
For England, Polydore Virgil, Camden, Speed,
And a matter of forty more, nothing
Alas to one that's read in Histories.
In the Greeke I have a smack or so, at
Zenophon, Herodotus, Thucidides, and
Stowes Cronicle.
Alaz.
Believe me sir, and that
Stowes Cronicle is very good Greeke; you litle
Think who writ it! Doe you not see him? are
You blind? I am the man.
Eir.
Then I must number
You with my best Authors in my Library.
Alaz.
Sir, the rest too are mine, but that I venture 'em
With other names, to shunne the opinion
Of arrogance; so the subt'le Cardinall
Calls one book Bellarmine, 'nother Tostatus,
Yet one mans labour both. You talk of numbring;
You cannot choose but heare how lowd fame speaks
Of my experience in Arithmetique:
She sayes you too grow neare perfection.
Eir.
Farre from it I; some in-sight, but no more.
I count the starres, can give the Totall summe,
How many sands there be i'th' sea, but these
Are trifles to the expert, that have studied
58
In any thing, if I have any, 'tis
In languages, but yet insooth I speak
Only my mother Tongue; I have not gain'd
The Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriack, or Arabick;
Nor know the Greek with all her Dialects.
Scaliger and Tom Coriate both excell me.
I have no skill in French, Italian, Spanish,
Turkish, Ægyptian, China, Persian Tongues.
Indeed the Latine I was whipt into;
But Ruscian, Slavonian, and Dalmatian
With Saxon, Danish, and Albanian speech,
That of the Cossaches, and Hungarian too,
With Biscays, and the prime of languages,
Dutch, Weltch, and Irish are too hard for me
To be familiar in: and yet some think
(But thought is free) that I doe speak all these
As I were borne in each. But they may erre
That think so; 'Tis not every Iudgment sits
In the infallible chaire. To confesse truth
All Europe, Asia, and Affrick too;
But in America, and the new-found world
I very much feare there be some languages
That would goe neere to puzzle me.
Alaz.
Very likely.
You have a pretty pittance in the Tongues;
But Eiron, I am now more generall;
I can speak all alike, there is no stranger
Of so remote a nation heares me talke
But confidently calls me Country-man.
59
Surnames me the Confusion: I but want
An Oratour like you to speak my praise.
Eir.
Am I an Oratour Alazon? no;
Though it hath pleas'd the wiser few to say
Demosthenes was not so eloquent;
But freinds will flatter, and I am not bound
To believe all Hyperboles: something sir
Perchance I have, but 'tis not worth the naming,
Especially Alazon in your presence.
Alaz.
Your modesty Eiron speaks but truth in this.
Colax.
I need not flatter these, they'le doe't themselves,
And crosse the Proverb that was wont to say
One Mule doth scrub another, here each Asse
Hath learn'd to claw himselfe.
Alaz.
I doe surpasse
All Oratours. How like you my Orations?
Those against Catiline; I account them best,
Except my Philippicks; all acknowledge me
Above the three great Oratours of Rome.
Eir.
What three Alazon?
Ala.
Marcus, Tullius,
And Cicero, the best of all the three.
Eir.
Why those three names are all the selfe same mans
Alaz.
Then all is one. Were those three names three men.
I should excell them all. And then for Poetry!
Eir.
There is no Poetry but Homers Iliads.
Alaz.
Alasse twas writ ith' nonage of my Muses.
You understand th'Italian?
60
A little sir,
I have read Tasso.
Ala.
And Torquato too?
Eir.
Their still the same.
Ala.
I find you very skilfull.
Eiron, I erre only to sound your judgement.
You are a Poet too.
Eir.
The world may think so,
But 'tis deceiv'd, and I am sorry for't.
But I will tell you sir some excellent verses
Made by a friend of mine; I have not read
A better Epigram of a Neoterique.
Ala.
Pray doe my eyes the favour sir to let mee read 'um.
Eir.
Strange sights there late was seene, that did affright
The Multitude; the Moone was seene by night,
And Sun appear'd by day:—is it not good?
Ala.
Excellent good, proceed.
Eir.
Without remorse
Each starre and planet kept their wonted course.
What here could fright them? (mark the answer now)
O sir aske not that:
The Vulgar know not why they feare, nor what.
But in their humors too inconstant bee,
Nothing seemes strange to them but constancy.
Has not my friend approv'd himselfe a Poet?
Alaz.
The Verses sir are excellent, but your friend
Approves himselfe a thiefe.
Eir.
Why good Alazon?
Alaz.
A Plagiary I mean, the verses sir
61
Eir.
From whom?
Alaz.
From me, beleeu't I made 'um.
Eir.
They are alasse unworthy sir your owning.
Such Trifles as my muse had stumbled on
This morning.
Alaz.
Nay, they may be yours: I told you
That you come neare me sir. Yours they may be.
Good witts may jump: but let me tell you, Eiron,
Your Freind must steale them if he have them.
Col.
What pretty Gulls are these? Ile take 'um off;
Alazon, you are learned.
Alaz.
I know that.
Col.
And vertuous.
Alaz.
Tis confessd.
Col.
A good Historian.
Alaz.
Who dares deny it?
Col.
A rare Arithmetician.
Alaz.
I' have heard it often.
Col.
I commend your care
That know your vertues! why should modesty
Stop good mens mouthes from their own praise? our neighbours
Are envious, and will rather blast our memories
With infamy, then immortalize our names:
When Fame hath taken cold, and lost her voice,
We must be our own trumpets; carefull men
Will have an Inventory of their goods,
And why not of their vertues? should you say
You were not wise, it were a sinne to truth.
62
To cloake and masque his parts; hee's a foole for't.
Twas heavenly counsell bid us know our selves.
You may be confident, chaunt your own encomiums,
Ring out a Panegyrique to your selfe,
And your selfe write the learned Commentarie
Of your own actions.
Alaz.
So I have.
Col.
Where is it?
Ala.
Tis stolne.
Col.
I know the thiefe, they call him Cesar.
Goe in good sir; there is within a Glasse
That will present you with the Felons face.
Exit Alaz.
Eiron, you hear the newes!
Eir:
Not I, what is it?
Col.
That you are held the only man of Art.
Eir.
Is't currant Colax?
Col.
Currant as the aire,
Every man breaths it for a certainty.
Eir.
This is the first time I hear'd on't in truth.
Can it be certain? so much charity left
In mens opinion?
Col.
You call it charity
Which is their duty: Vertue sir, like yours
Commands mens praises. Emptinesse and folly,
Such as Alazon is, use their own Tongues,
While reall worth hears her own praise, not speaks it.
Other mens mouths become your trumpeters,
And winged fame proclaimes you lowdly forth
From East to West, till either Pole admire you.
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Of them that heare it, while each man therein
Seemes undervalued: You are wisely silent
In your own worth, and therefore 'twere a sinne
For others to be so: The fish would loose
Their being mute, ere such a modest worth
Should want a speaker: yet sir I would have you
Know your own vertues, be acquainted with them.
Eir.
Why good sir bring me but acquainted them.
Col.
There is a glasse within shewes you your selfe
By a reflection; goe and speake 'em there.
Eir.
I should be glad to see 'em any where.
Exit Eir.
Rosc.
Retire your selves againe, for these are sights
Made to revive not burden with delights.
Exeunt omnes.
Finis Actus 3.
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