University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

Scene I.

Enter Bayes and Gentlemen, as before.
Bayes.

Now, Gentlemen, to take hold again of
the Thread of my Plot: In the first place
here must be a Scene of Love and Honour,
between Prince Prettiman and his
old Mistress; she beckon'd to an Assig—
you remember, some time since—Come, enter Prince
Prettiman and Thimblessa. [They come in.]
She's jealous,
you must know, and will now give ye an Opportunity to
see her Mettle. Come—in Verse.

P. Prett.
Of all the Ills with which the World is curst,
Believe me, Fair One, Jealousy's the worst;
'Tis a Disease of the most baleful kind,
And therefore call'd the Jaundice of the Mind:
'Tis always spreading like a Canker sore,
That eats, and eats—hum

[Boggles as out of his Part.
John.
'Till it can eat no more.

Bayes.

Gadzookers, I'll throw down the Book—Eat no
more, there's no enduring this—no, Sir.—'Till it does
all devour, are my Words.

P. Pret.

I beg Pardon, Sir,—'till it does all devour.

Bayes.

Allusion—d'ye mind, Mr. Smith, a rare Figure
in Poetry—eat no more—but come go on, Prince, ne'er
mind.

Smith.
No, no,—he's craz'd, I believe.

Chant.
Ha, ha, ha.

P. Pret.
Forego it, Madam, if I share your Love.

Thim.
You I held dear, Witness the Powers above.
Dear as the Foal do's her indulgent Dam,
Or as the tender Ewe, the frisking Lamb.

[Bayes repeats after her.
Bayes.
Soft, tender, sweet.

P. Pret.
And I the bright Thimblessa,
Dear, as kind Hostess, the frank Guest will pay,
Or the stale Maid her joyful Wedding Day.

Bayes.

Or the stale Maid her joyful Wedding Day. [Mimicking.]

O! egad there's four Similes tell him, worth the
four Thousand Pound, he goes to Law for, and a better
Penny.

Chant.

Very passionate indeed, Mr. Bayes.

Smith.

Oh! Very soft, very tender.

Bayes.

And yet this won't do, she's damnably yellow for
all this, and you'll find will do the Devil and all of Mischief.

Thim.
No, Prince, to hide it, weak is your Essay,
I know your Heart is with Parthenope:
What has she done, that can compare with me?
Did not, when Fate and you could not agree,
These pliant Hands sow all the Pieces in
Of many a Lockram Stole, worn next your Skin?
Did not my small Steel Engine piercing through,
Oft prick these Fingers to give Ease to you?

Bayes.

My small Steel Engine—Her Needle, ha, ha, ha.
—I told you, if you remember, she had been his Semptress.

John.

Ay, you did so—thank'e.

Bayes.

Phoo,—pray, Gentlemen, mind this—'tis very
pretty, Faith.

Thim.
Was not my Person—

P. Pret.
Well, I know 'twas fine.
And did I not oblige ye too with mine?
Did I not, to be grateful, every Day,
Besides Endearments, give you half my Pay?

Bayes.

And honourable enough, egad; for you must know,
by the by, that the Prince was no better than a Dragoon
at first, tho' afterwards he came to be a great General.

Thim.
You then were true, but now those Days are o'er,
You're false, [Eagerly.
and have forget the Oaths you swore,
Like mellow Fruit, y'are rotten at the Core.
Parthenope—Furies and Fire—
I'll cram her Throat with burning Coals like Portia,
With Asps like the Ægyptian Queen, with Daggers
Like Roman Lucrece: Revenge, Revenge, Justice,
And dire Revenge!—

[Rages and Exit.
Bayes.

Hermione in perfection, ha, ha, ha; she's gone to
plot Mischief, but 'tis opportunely enough, because I wanted

her Absence to bring in another great Scene and Dance;
for if she should know the Queens are in Love with him too,
there would be no enduring her egad.

P. Pret.

Oh! Women veering like to April Weather,
Now shining, storming now, and sometimes neither.

[Exit P. Pret.

John.

That's Nonsense, begad.

Bayes.

Egad, Sir, 'tis as Tragedy Verse should be.—
Adapt and Elevate, and I'll justify it—Come, draw the
Scene there.

Chant.

Ay, ay, 'tis mighty well—let him say what he
pleases.

The Scene opens and discovers the two Queens seated with Prince Volcius, Guards attending.
1 Queen.

What turn of various Fate has chanc'd to Day,
So long has kept Prince Prettiman away?

2 Queen.

His long'd-for Company has caus'd our Fear,
Depriv'd of having it no longer here;

P. Vol.

Than whom a braver Prince could not appear.

Bayes.

So well bred—so like a Prince.

[Re-enter P. Prettiman.
John.

So like a Sow-gelder!

1 Queen.

Advance this way, fair Prince, and sit by me.

2 Queen.

Sit by us both, or we shall ne'er agree.

Smith.

Their Majesties are very much smitten, I find,
Mr. Bayes.

Bayes.

Oh, Sir, to the last degree.

Chant.

Oh! Love, Love's a mighty Tyrant, Love makes
a Queen as supple as a Sempstress.

P. Prettiman goes and sits on t'other side of the Queens.
1 Queen.

What need you press so to invite him on?

2 Queen.

Nay, what need you?—But more of that anon.

John.

Oh! the Devil, can my Stomach hold yet?

Bayes.

There will be a thundering Scene between 'em
presently, and this is to give a Hint of it before; they are
damnably jealous, I told ye; here will be rare Work; but
first we must have the fine Court Dance, or Entry.

[Dance here.
The Dance ended they all rise, and come forward; the first Queen takes both the Princes aside and speaks.
1 Queen.
Within my Cabinet a Book you'll find,
The Owner on't will not be far behind.

P. Pret.
Your blest Commands do's so much Honour give,
That who delays 'em—not deserves to live.

P. Vol.
Business avaunt, and trifling Fortune wait,
Your Pleasure is Disposer of my Fate.

[Exeunt Princes.
Bayes.

Now here is the oddest Passage, I'll be bold to say,
Gentlemen, and the newest, that ever was seen in a Play;
they are each of 'em in Love with both the Princes—hum!
is not that new now?

Smith.

Yes, truly.

John.

Oh, very new—very new—a Plague on't.

Bayes.

Hush—look, look; do but see how they lowr
at one another.

2 Queen.
Your Highness will, I hope, except my Love,
To wait ye to the Door of your Alcove;
That when you with the Princes there resort,
No other may intrude to spoil the Sport;
But think not that I mean the thing I say,
[Raising her Voice.
No, Wretch, 'tis I their Hearts can only sway.

1 Queen.
That you can sway, you insolently think,
But if you do, 'twill be when they're in drink:
Once I remember, at a Warrior's Feast,
When raising of the Siege a Town releast,
And they of Wine, the Soldiers Recompence,
By gulping up too much, had banish'd Sense;
Their heedless staggering Steps were turn'd to you,
For which, by Jove my Hatred is their due;
And I'll renounce 'em—yet methinks I'm loth.

Bayes.

Yet methinks I'm loth. [Softly mimicking her.]
Pray
mind, here's a luscious Metaphor coming.

1 Queen.
They are sweet Men, tho' I have made this Oath,
Their Bodies clean from Pimples and from Sores,
And Rosa Solis—issues from their Pores:
They kiss more soft than Nurse do's Infant fair,
Who turns its soft Posteriors to the Air.

Bayes.

Ah—gad, the Image of that strikes ye through I'm
sure.

Smith., Chant.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.

John.

Ha, ha, ha.—Gad would thou were't to kiss the
Infant with the Image—that I have of it.

2 Queen.
Worth of such Pleasures, I the best can tell,
Since 'tis with me that only they excel.

1 Queen.
With you, hah, am I then for Mildness mock'd?
Madam, take care I'm not too far provok'd.

Bayes.
Now—now—she's nettl'd, now they begin.

1 Queen.
A burning Blush o'er all my Face has got,
And glows just like an Ov'n that's over hot.

2 Queen.
Then with fresh Bavins I'll new Heat inspire,
With crackling Jealousy increase the Fire;
For to my Closet know they both are gone,
And happy I too, shall be there anon:
Matters of State must be consulted there,
Affairs you too ill fated are to share;
And whilst in Politicks, commix'd with Joy,
My Volcius dear, my Prettiman and I
Regale in unexampled Ecstasy:
You like the Cooing Dove shall perch alone,
And doz'd with anxious Thought, sob, sigh, and groan.

1 Queen.
I thank thee, that thou dost my Anger move.

[Raging.
Bayes.
Now, now, now.

1 Queen.
To feed Revenge I'll turn again to Love.

2 Queen.
You Love! sure petty Titmouse you'll not dare,

[Loudly.
1 Queen.
Yes, Steel devouring Ostrich, but I dare.
[Starting up to her.
Jealousy burns, and I'll be so reveng'd—I will, I will, I will—

[Stamps and rages.
Bayes.
Ah, Statira for that, efaith.

1 Queen.
I'll meet the Princes—spite of all I swore,
And grasp—that thou may'st never touch 'em more.

[Exit and t'other swiftly after her.
Bayes.

Go your ways for Non Parelio's, egad,—There's
for ye, Gentlemen,—some of the dull carping Vulgar
now may think this no better than Scolding betwixt the two
Queens; but let me tell 'em, 'tis one of the brightest Ornaments
has been in our modern Tragedies—for many Years.

Smith.

Nay I must needs say, Mr. Bayes, this last Scene
was very brisk and spritely.

Chant.

It was so.

John.

Phoo, Pox, the Conceit is stole—I have seen it
before twenty times.

Bayes.

Before! not in so fine a Dress, I hope, good
Seignior Carper; a late Heroick Author, 'tis true, once aim'd

at such a Scene, but mine is so much better, that Gadzooks
I'm asham'd to speak on't—Now then, for another Surprize,
which you shall have eternally in this Act—The
Queens being involv'd in a violent Passion, have been so
loud, that the two Kings being alarm'd by their Noise
in Alt, coming into the Antichamber heard all, and order'd
their Guards to seize 'em; the two Princes hearing on't have
escap'd, so that now they are reckon'd as Delinquents agen
—Gadzooks the Plot thickens so very much it makes me
sweat. Come, enter Kings and Queens—Come.

Enter the two Kings and the Queens, guarded with Belrope, Discipline, Tokay and Fleabitten.
Oh! Wedlock!

1 King.
Oh! Wedlock, what is worse than thy Estate?

2 King.
What greater Plague than a deceitful Mate?
Have we for this been to small Mischiefs blind,
With Patience born the Yoke of Womankind!

1 King.
But a due Punishment we'll not delay,
Confine 'em close 'till we have thought the Way.

John.
What are these Fellows Kidnap'd already too?

[Exeunt Queens guarded.
Bayes.

Yes, Sir, and what have you to say to that? Sir,
let me tell ye, there's nothing like Dispatch in a Plot; yet 'tis
only the Libeller there, and the Secretary that are to be punish'd;
the Priest and the Damsel have betray'd 'em, so they
have impeach'd, and the others are to be maul'd. Ha, ha, ha,

1 King.

These Criminals may now have leave to speak.

[The two Kings go and sit in Chairs.
2 King.

Upon our selves we will their hearing take.

1 King.

In th'first place what are you?

2 King.

In th'next place—you?

Bayes.

Now this is formal, you must know, as judiciary
Matters should be; I took this Hint from a grave Justice of
Peace, who began his Examination of Criminals just so:
Begin agen, pray Mr—a—.

1 King.

In th'first place what are you?

2 King.

In th'next place—you?

Tok.

Me's Catolique.

Bel.

For Money—I'm a Jew.

Flea.

For my part I'm a Protestant true Blue.

Discip.

I'm Shorn, and should be hang'd,—had I my Due.

Bayes.

Pithy and short; I make 'em confess to avoid the
Inconvenience of a tedious Examination—And indeed the

true Design of this Scene is to let the World know what
plaguy Vermin some of these News-mongers are, and what
Mischief they do the Government—Proceed, Mr—a—

Discip.

In short, Brother Incendiary, there is no way to
incline their Majesties to Mercy but plain Confession; I
have done't already, and Thanks to this good Lady here, am
much lighter in Conscience.

Flea.

'Tis true, Monsieur, and therefore to second him
will be your best way. Are not you a Spie, Transub—
heh?

Tok.

Me must maka no Lye at de Confession.—Yes,
truly, me have bin de ver great Rascal—but me receave de
Bribe from him—dat is ver true.

[Points to Belrope,
1 King.

When did you publish any true News, Sirrah?

[To Belrope.
Bel.

Egh, sick, sick—not this forty Years.—Oh! it
comes up very hard.

Bayes.

Some Peoples Consciences fly in their Faces; I
make this Fellow's now plague his Stomach; Men and
Times alter strangely, Mr. Smith, and the Politicks of the
Coffee-house out-do those of the Council clearly.

Smith.

The Lyes that are vented there, indeed, do more
Mischief in a Government than the Politicians generally do
it good.

Bayes.

Ay, you shall hear, this is, I think, drawn to the
Life.—Come out with it Belrope.

2 King.

No more Delays, Vermin, but if you expect Clemency,
deserve it by Confession.

Bel.

Oh! if you must have it upthen,—for the Quiet of my
Conscience and Ease of my Stomach, I confess I was bred up
in Knavery, and born, I believe, with a Lye in my Mouth;
as soon as I could speak I told it—and as soon as I could
write committed it to Paper.—I have slighted the Lords,
slander'd the Commons, abus'd the City, banter'd the Country,
affirm'd some to be Dead were that instant playing at
Picket, and others alive that I saw just before put into their
Graves.

In fine, my Joy has been this forty Years,
To set the World together by the Ears.
Oh! Mercy, Mercy, I beseech your Majesties.

Bayes.

There's a Fellow for ye now.—Begad if that
not a topping Character, as Times go, adieu to all Genius
ifaith.

Chant.

Odso, the crowding Business in this Act has put
you into a Heat, Mr. Bayes.

Bayes.

Oh! sultry, sultry; I must unbutton my Waste-coat.

John.

'Sdeath, I have been in a Bath these two Hours,—
would these Kings would give Judgment, that the Court
might break up.

1 King.
Break up the Court, we'll think on what is said,
Oh, Brother, 'tis the Queen most plagues my Head;

2 King.
And mine too, but we'll drink, and then to Bed.

[Belrope, Discip. and Tokay are carried off.
[Exeunt Kings and Guards.
Bayes.

I told ye these Kings were to be admir'd for their
Clemency, it has been the fine way of Writing for many
Years; but come, after this Glut of serious Business 'tis fit
to bring in some Diversion; now therefore you shall have the
fourth Entertainment, some Humours of the Country:
Come, strike up; the first is an amorous Shepherd declaring
the Power of Beauty and Love.—Come, Sir.

Enter a Shepherd.
SONG.
When Beauty will its Power pursue,
What cannot charming Woman do?
The Warrior must abate his Rage,
'Twill make his Sword quite lose its Edge:
'Twill make the Students slight their Rules;
'Twill make the Statesmen look like Fools:
The greatest Prince 'twill make a Slave;
The Niggard lavish, Coward brave:
Trajan's, Nero's,
Captives, Hero's,
All must truckle and come too,
When Beauty will its Power pursue.
What cannot charming Woman do,
When Beauty, &c.

Bayes.

So, now comes in his Wife to do her part; I design'd
this, you must know, as a true Model of Conjugal
Affection; and to be sung by all new Brides and Bridegrooms
at least the first Week, for fear they should not like the Tune
on't afterwards.

Enter a Shepherdess.
Smith.

Happily contriv'd, indeed.

John.

Oh, wonderful! the marry'd Tribe will be much
oblig'd to him.

Chant.

Prithee let's hear—no carping beforehand.

SONG II.
Chloris.

Damon.

Bays
Sings.

'Till Sense is lost, &c.—Ah! dear Creature,
egad, I'm almost in Love with thee my self, [Exeunt

Singers.]
but only here are others coming, and so I'm forc'd
to divide my Love between 'em.—Come, now enter Cremisa,
a Country Milk-maid, who sings a right Ballad in its
natural Purity; 'tis of her Sister, and how she balk'd an amorous
Knight, a Courtier, who most barbarously made an
Attempt to get her Maidenhead.—Here's Variety for ye still,
Gentlemen: Come, my Dear.

Enter a Milk-maid.
SINGS.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.

Bayes.

So, hold, hold; enough, enough;—I consider'd
the Story, tho' 'tis altogether pleasant, would be too long,
and perhaps pall the Audience, and so cunningly design'd
the Conclusion for the next Act.

Smith.

Oh! why so, Mr. Bayes;—no, no, prithee let's
have it out, I don't think it tedious at all.

Chant.

Oh! out with it, by all means;—tedious, 'tis
very novel and divertive.

Bayes.

Nay, egad, I'll be upon sure Ground;—I'll have
Leave of the Audience.—If they say ay, she shall proceed, not
else,—I'll not be hiss'd at for being tedious, I'm resolv'd:
What say ye, Gentlemen, shall she go on or no?

Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.
Chorus.

Bayes,

Very well—thank'e Sweet-heart, 'tis a little of
the longest—but the Relish and Story in't shall vie with
all the Opera Trillo's in Europe, egad—Come, now
the last Dialogue—And the Dance, and so end the Act.

Smith.

Why, well said, thou spar'st no Pains, I must say
that.

Bayes.

I think so, this now expressing another sort of Accident
relating to Country Matters—is the intended Plunder
of a Cottage in time of War, and sav'd from the rough
Officer, by the modest Virtue of two pretty Farmers Daughters,
whom I make him fall in love with—Hey—call
Robin the Serjeant agen—there—we must use him once more
—oh come, Sir.

Enter Officer and Serjeant, and three or four Soldiers.
Officer
sings.
Draw out our Foot, and flank the Horse,
The Gates of that proud Building force:
And bid the Churl his Money bring,
Whose sordid Soul, as black as Ink,
Would never make a Soldier drink;
Nor do one generous thing.

Serj.
At your Command you may be sure,
They instantly will do't,
And if come Files of Foot,
A Score of Men, or fewer,
Were order'd here, where now we are,
You'd find some Bags as full and fair,
And buxom Girls to boot.

Officers.
This seems a Farmer's Grange.

Serj.
'Tis so.
Those Earthworms make the Money grow,
As rife as Beans and Peas,
And tho' himself look like a Louse,
He has two Daughters in his House,
That shine as bright
As Stars by Night,
And quick and nimble as a Mouse;
Hop up and down like Fleas.

Officer.
Stand, stand away—sure these are they.

Serj.
Your Honour's Right—A Sorrel and a Bay.

[Daughters come in.
Another Movement, slow.
1 Daug.
Be pleas'd, Sir, to draw near,
And taste our homely Beer.
We've Manchets just now bak'd,
And Chesnuts newly rak'd;
Stout Beer, the Bottles breaking,
And Syder, our own making—Stout Beer, &c.

Officer.
Oh! for your Meat and Drink I think not on't;
There's something else, Sweetheart, I want.

2 Daug.
Your Honour may love Fruit:
We'll bring ye that to boot.
A Peach that charms the Puller,
And Cherries your own Colour;
Fine Plums that might regale a Queen,
With Codlings too and Cream.

Officer.
The prettiest Fools that e'er were seen
By Heaven, or else I Dream.
How my Heart pants—I must—and yet I'm loth.

[Aside.
Serj.
A plague, why sure he won't attack 'em both.

Officer.
Sweet—can you love—

1 Daug.

Oh! yes, Sir, and afford a Bargain in't with
Honesty.

Officer.
A simple, simple word.

'Tis out, quite of Fashion [takes hold of the first, and

t'other pulls him away]
Come, I long.

2 Daug.
Pray, Sir, mind me, I'll sing ye a fine Song.

Another Movement.
Officer.
Oh Transport! how this second Fires?
Come, then, will you comply with my Desires?
[To the second Daughter.
I grow impatient.

1 Daug.
Pray, Sir, turn this way,
I sing a little too as one may say.
[Takes hold of the second Daughter, and the first pulls him away.
Another Movement.
The Captain from the Temple led
His kind and charming Love,
And fairly got her Maidenhead,
As she did well approve.

Serj.
They've fool'd him quite, I see it in his Face.

Officer.
Sweet Innocence, how charming is thy Grace!
Lust now ebbs out, and Love flows in a-pace.

Another Movement.
2 Daug.
Remember Honour glorious,
'Twill make you still victorious;
Which Peace of Mind providing,
Is to Fame's Temple guiding.

1 Daug.
If you would take occasion,
To plant a lawful Passion.
[Sings the same Tune.
What Charmer but would take ye,
And ever happy make ye.

Officer.
I will; my Heart, by Love and Honour won,
So much admires thee now,
I'll plight a nuptial Vow,
And for your charming sakes will save the Town.
Another.
Draw off, my Boys, your Powers,
Obey, and dare not frown,
Great Honour will be yours,

Serjeant.
But Profit will be none.

[Answering in the same Tune.
Offic. and Women.
Great Honour will be yours,
By this brave Action done.

Serj. and Soldiers.
Great Profit would be ours,
If we were let alone.

Offic. and Women.
Great Honour will be yours,

Serj. and Women.
Great Profit would be ours.

Offic. and Women.
Great Honour will be yours,
By this brave Action done.

Serj. and Soldiers.
Great Profit would be ours,
If we were let alone.

Chorus of all.
Great Honour, &c.

Bayes.

Great Honour will be mine, whenever this is sung:
Gentlemen and Ladies, very well done, egad—and so your
most humble. [Exeunt Singers]
Come, now a Dance of
Dragoons and Milkmaids, and so conclude— [Dance here.]

Look'e, I contriv'd this Song and Dance, to influence Virtue
and Integrity amongst the Soldiers: And 'tis a sort of a
mute Satyr, with instructive Hints, that instead of debauching
the Country Lasses, as usual, they may reform and marry.

Enter Fleabitten.
Flea.

Sir, There was a guilded Flask order'd me to act
my part with, and Mrs.—has taken it for her own Use;
so that without it I can't do my next poisoning Scene.

Bayes.

Odso, I must go and manage that Affair.

[Exeunt. B. and Flea.
Smith.

Let's go too—There may be some pleasant Scuffle
amongst the Women.