Chapter XII: Prologue (1)

Our Muse describes no lover's passion, No wretched father, no unthrifty son! No craving, subtle whore or shameless bawd, Nor stubborn clown or daring parasite, No lying servant or bold sycophant. We are not wanton or satirical. These have their time and places fit, but we Sad hours and serious studies to reprieve, Have taught severe Philosophy to smile, The Senses' rash contentions we compose, And give displeas'd ambitious Tongue her due: Here's all; judicious friends, accept what is not ill. Who are not such, let them do what they will.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

LINGUA, _Comoedus. Tragoedus_. AUDITUS, _Comoedus. Tragoedus_. MENDACIO, _Lingua's page_. TACTUS, | _Odor_. OLFACTUS, | _Tobacco_. VISUS, | _Lumen_, | _Coelum_, | _Terra_, | _Heraldry_, | _Colour_. GUSTUS; _Bacchus, Ceres, Beer_. APPETITUS, _a parasite_. PHANTASTES. HEURESIS, _Phantastes's page_. CRAPULA, _Gustus's follower_. COMMUNIS SENSUS. MEMORIA. ANAMNESTES, _Memoria's page_. SOMNUS. Personae quarum mentio tantum fit. | _Psyche_, | _Acrasia_, | _Veritas_, | _Oblivio_.

_The scene is Microcosmus[167] in a grove. The time from morning till night_.

LINGUA.

ACTUS PRIMUS, SCAENA PRIMA.

LINGUA _apparelled in a crimson satin gown, a dressing of
white roses, a little skene[168] tied in a purple scarf,
a pair of white buskins[169] drawn with white ribbon, silk
garters, gloves, &c_. AUDITUS _in a garland of bays
intermingled with red and white roses upon a false hair,
a cloth of silver mantle upon a pair of satin bases, wrought
sleeves, buskins, gloves, &c_.

LINGUA, AUDITUS.

LIN. Nay, good Auditus, do but hear me speak.

AUD. Lingua, thou strik'st too much upon one string, Thy tedious plain-song[170] grates my tender ears.

LIN. 'Tis plain indeed, for truth no descant needs; Una's her name, she cannot be divided.

AUD. O, but the ground[171] itself is naught, from whence Thou canst not relish out a good division: Therefore at length surcease, prove not stark-mad, Hopeless to prosecute a hapless suit: For though (perchance) thy first strains pleasing are, I dare engage mine ear the close[172] will jar.

LIN. If then your confidence esteem my cause To be so frivolous and weakly wrought, Why do you daily subtle plots devise, To stop me from the ears of common sense? Whom since our great queen Psyche hath ordain'd, For his sound wisdom, our vice-governor, To him and to his two so wise assistants, Nimble Phantastes and firm Memory, Myself and cause I humbly do commit. Let them but hear and judge; I wish no more.

AUD. Should they but know thy rash presumption, They would correct it in the sharpest sort: Good Jove! what sense hast thou to be a sense! Since from the first foundation of the world, We never were accounted more than five. Yet you, forsooth, an idle prating dame, Would fain increase the number, and upstart To our high seats, decking your babbling self With usurp'd titles of our dignity.

LIN. An idle prating dame! know, fond Auditus, Records affirm my title full as good, As his amongst the five is counted best.

AUD. Lingua, confess the truth: thou'rt wont to lie.

LIN. I say so too, therefore I do not lie. But now, spite of you all, I speak the truth. You five among us subjects tyrannise; Making the sacred name of Common Sense A cloak to cover your enormities: He bears the rule; he's judge, but judgeth still, As he's inform'd by your false evidence: So that a plaintiff cannot have access, But through your gates. He hears, but what? nought else, But what thy crafty ears to him conveys: And all he sees is by proud Visus show'd him: And what he touches is by Tactus' hand; And smells, I know, but through Olfactus' nose; Gustus begins to him whate'er he tastes: By these quaint tricks free passage hath been barr'd, That I could never equally be heard. But well, 'tis well.

AUD. Lingua, thy feeble sex Hath hitherto withheld my ready hands, That long'd to pluck that nimble instrument.

LIN. O horrible ingratitude! that thou-- That thou of all the rest should'st threaten me: Who by my means conceiv'st as many tongues, As Neptune closeth lands betwixt his arms: The ancient Hebrew clad with mysteries: The learned Greek rich in fit epithets, Bless'd in the lovely marriage of pure words: The Chaldee wise, th'Arabian physical, The Roman eloquent and Tuscan grave, The braving Spanish and the smooth-tongu'd French: These precious jewels that adorn thine ears, All from my mouth's rich cabinet are stolen. How oft hast thou been chain'd unto my tongue, Hang'd at my lips, and ravish'd with my words; So that a speech fair-feather'd could not fly, But thy ear's pitfall caught it instantly? But now, O heavens!

AUD. O heavens! thou wrong'st me much, Thou wrong'st me much thus falsely to upbraid me: Had not I granted thee the use of hearing, That sharp-edged tongue whetted against her master, Those puffing lungs, those teeth, those drowsy lips, That scalding throat, those nostrils full of ire, Thy palate, proper instrument of speech, Like to the winged chanters of the wood, Uttering nought else but idle sifflements,[173] Tunes without sense, words inarticulate, Had ne'er been able t' have abus'd me thus. Words are thy children, but of my begetting.

LIN. Perfidious liar, how can I endure thee! Call'st my unspotted chastity in question? O, could I use the breath mine anger spends, I'd make thee know--

AUD. Heav'ns look on my distress, Defend me from this railing viperess! For if I stay, her words' sharp vinegar Will fret me through. Lingua, I must be gone: I hear one call me more than earnestly. [_Exit_ AUDITUS.

LIN. May the loud cannoning of thunderbolts, Screeking of wolves, howling of tortur'd ghosts, Pursue thee still, and fill thy amaz'd ears With cold astonishment and horrid fears! O, how these senses muffle Common Sense! And more and more with pleasing objects strive To dull his judgment and pervert his will To their behests: who, were he not so wrapp'd I'the dusky clouds of their dark policies, Would never suffer right to suffer wrong. Fie, Lingua, wilt thou now degenerate? Art not a woman? dost not love revenge? Delightful speeches, sweet persuasions, I have this long time us'd to get my right. My right--that is, to make the senses six; And have both name and power with the rest. Oft have I season'd savoury periods With sugar'd words, to delude Gustus' taste, And oft embellish'd my entreative phrase With smelling flow'rs of vernant rhetoric, Limning and flashing it with various dyes, To draw proud Visus to me by the eyes; And oft perfum'd my petitory[174] style With civet-speech, t'entrap Olfactus' nose; And clad myself in silken eloquence, To allure the nicer touch of Tactus' hand. But all's become lost labour, and my cause Is still procrastinated: therefore now, Hence, ye base offspring of a broken mind, Supple entreaties and smooth flatteries: Go kiss the love-sick lips of puling gulls,[175] That 'still their brain to quench their love's disdain: Go gild the tongues of bawds and parasites; Come not within my thoughts. But thou, deceit, Break up the pleasure of my brimful breast, Enrich my mind with subtle policies. Well then, I'll go; whither? nay, what know I? And do, in faith I will, the devil knows what. What, if I set them all at variance, And so obtain to speak? it must be so. It must be so, but how? there lies the point: How? thus: tut, this device will never prove, Augment it so: 'twill be too soon descried; Or so, nor so; 'tis too-too dangerous. Pish, none of these! what, if I take this course? ha! Why, there it goes; good, good; most excellent! He that will catch eels must disturb the flood; The chicken's hatch'd, i' faith; for they are proud, And soon will take a cause of disagreement.

SCAENA SECUNDA.

MENDACIO, _attired in a taffeta suit of a light colour
changeable, like an ordinary page_.[176]

LINGUA, MENDACIO.

LIN. I see the heavens nurse my new-born device; For lo, my page Mendacio comes already, To file and burnish that I hammer'd out. Never in better time, Mendacio, What! hast thou done?

MEN. Done? yes, long ago.

LIN. Is't possible thou shouldst despatch so soon?

MEN. Madam, I had no sooner told Tactus that Gustus would fain speak with him, But I spied Visus, Gustus, and the rest, And serv'd them all with sauce of several lies. Now the last sense I spake with was Olfactus Who, having smelt the meaning of my message, Straight blew his nose, and quickly puff'd me hither; But in the whirlwind of his furious blast, Had not by chance a cobweb held me fast, Mendacio had been with you long ere this.

LIN. Witness this lie, Mendacio's with me now; But, sirrah, out of jesting will they come?

MEN. Yes, and it like your ladyship, presently; Here may you have me prest[177] to flatter them.

LIN. I'll flatter no such proud companions, 'Twill do no good, therefore I am determin'd To leave such baseness.

MEN. Then shall I turn and bid them stay at home?

LIN. No; for their coming hither to this grove Shall be a means to further my device. Therefore I pray thee, Mendacio, go presently; Run, you vile ape.

MEN. Whither?

LIN. What, dost thou stand?

MEN. Till I know what to do.

LIN. 'Sprecious, 'tis true, So might'st thou finely overrun thine errand. Haste to my chest.

MEN. Ay, ay.

LIN. There shalt thou find A gorgeous robe and golden coronet; Convey them hither nimbly, let none see them.

MEN. Madam, I fly, I fly. [_Exit_ MENDACIO.

LIN. But hear you, sirrah? Lock up your fellow-servant Veritas.

MEN. I warrant you, You need not fear so long as I am with you. [_He goes out, and comes in presently_. What colour is the robe?

LIN. There is but one.

[MENDACIO, _going, turns in haste_.

MEN. The key, madam, the key.

LIN. By Juno, how forgetful Is sudden speed! Here, take it, run.

MEN. I'll be here instantly.

[_Exit_ MENDACIO.

SCAENA TERTIA.

LINGUA _sola_.

LIN. Whilome this crown and gorgeous ornament Were the great prize for which five orators With the sharp weapons of their tongues contended: But all their speeches were so equal wrought And alike gracious,[178] that, if his were witty, His was as wise; the third's fair eloquence Did parallel the fourth's firm gravity; The last's good gesture kept the balance even With all the rest; so that the sharpest eye And most judicious censor could not judge, To whom the hanging victory should fall. Therefore with one consent they all agreed To offer up both crown and robe to me, As the chief patroness of their profession, Which heretofore I holily have kept, Like to a miser's gold, to look on only. But now I'll put them to a better use, And venture both, in hope to--

SCAENA QUARTA.

MENDACIO, LINGUA.

MEN. Have I not hied me, madam? look you here, What shall be done with these temptations?

LIN. They say a golden Ball Bred enmity betwixt three goddesses; So shall this crown be author of debate Betwixt five senses.

MEN. Where shall it be laid!

LIN. There, there, there; 'tis well; so, so, so.

MEN. A crown's a pleasing bait to look upon; The craftiest fox will hardly 'scape this trap.

LIN. Come, let us away, and leave it to the chance.

MEN. Nay, rather let me stand close hereabouts, And see the event.

LIN. Do so, and if they doubt, How it came there, feign them some pretty fable, How that some god--

MEN. Tut, tut, tut, let me alone: I that have feign'd so many hundred gods, Can easily forge some fable for the turn: Whist, madam; away, away: you fright the fowl; Tactus comes hard by, look you.

LIN. Is't he for certain?

MEN. Yes, yes, yes, 'tis he.

LIN. 'Tis he indeed.

[_Exit_ LINGUA.

SCAENA QUINTA.

TACTUS, _in a dark-coloured satin mantle over a pair
of silk bases, a garland of bays, mixed with white and
red roses, upon a black grogram, a falchion, wrought
sleeves, buskins, &c_.

MENDACIO, TACTUS.

MEN. Now, chaste Diana, grant my nets to hold.

TAC. The blushing[179] childhood of the cheerful morn Is almost grown a youth, and overclimbs[180] Yonder gilt eastern hills; about which time Gustus most earnestly importun'd me To meet him hereabouts, what cause I know not.

MEN. You shall do shortly, to your cost, I hope. [_Aside_.]

TAC. Sure by the sun it should be nine o'clock.

MEN. What, a star-gazer! will you ne'er look down? [Aside.]

TAC. Clear is the sun and blue the firmament; Methinks the heavens do smile-- [TACTUS _sneezeth_.

MEN. At thy mishap! To look so high, and stumble in a trap. [_Aside_. TACTUS _stumbleth at the robe and crown_.

TAC. High thoughts have slipp'ry feet, I had well-nigh fallen.

MEN. Well doth he fall that riseth with a fall. [_Aside_.]

TAC. What's this?

MEN. O, are you taken? 'tis in vain to strive. [_Aside_.]

TAC. How now?

MEN. You'll be so entangled straight-- [_Aside_.]

TAC. A crown!

MEN. That it will be hard-- [_Aside_.]

TAC. And a robe.

MEN. To loose yourself. [_Aside_.]

TAC. A crown and a robe.

MEN. It had been fitter for you to have found a fool's coat and a bauble[181], eh, eh? [_Aside_.]

TAC. Jupiter, Jupiter, how came this here?

MEN. O sir, Jupiter is making thunder, he hears you not: here's one knows better. [_Aside_.]

TAC. 'Tis wondrous rich, ha! but sure it is not so, ho! Do I not sleep and dream of this good luck, ha? No, I am awake and feel it now; Whose should it be? [_He takes it up_.

MEN. Set up a _si quis_ for it. [_Aside_.]

TAC. Mercury! all's mine own; here's none to cry half's mine.

MEN. When I am gone.

[_Exit_ MENDACIO.

SCAENA SEXTA.

TACTUS _solus_.

TAC. Tactus, thy sneezing somewhat did portend. Was ever man so fortunate as I? To break his shins at such a stumbling-block! Roses and bays, pack hence[182]: this crown and robe My brows and body circles and invests; How gallantly it fits me! sure the slave Measur'd my head that wrought this coronet. They lie that say complexions cannot change: My blood's ennobled, and I am transform'd Unto the sacred temper of a king. Methinks I hear my noble parasites Styling me Caesar or great Alexander; Licking my feet, and wondering where I got This precious ointment. How my pace is mended! How princely do I speak! how sharp I threaten! Peasants, I'll curb your headstrong impudence, And make you tremble when the lion roars, Ye earth-bred worms. O, for a looking-glass! Poets will write whole volumes of this scorce[183]; Where's my attendants? Come hither, sirrah, quickly; Or by the wings of Hermes--

SCAENA SEPTIMA.

OLFACTUS, _in a garland of bays intermingled with
white and red roses upon a false hair, his sleeves
wrought with flowers under a damask mantle, over a
pair of silk bases; a pair of buskins drawn with
ribbon, a flower in his hand_.

TACTUS, OLFACTUS.

TAC. Ay me! Olfactus comes; I call'd too soon, He'll have half part, I fear; what shall I do! Where shall I run? how shall I shift him off? [TACTUS _wraps up the robe and crown, and sits upon them_.

OLF. This is the time, and this the place appointed, Where Visus promis'd to confer with me. I think he's there--no, no, 'tis Tactus sure. How now? what makes you sit so nicely?

TAC. 'Tis past imagination, 'tis so indeed.

OLF. How fast his hands[184] are fixed, and how melancholy he looks! Tactus! Tactus!

TAC. For this is true, man's life is wondrous brittle.

OLF. He's mad, I think, he talks so idly. So ho, Tactus!

TAC. And many have been metamorphosed To stranger matters and more uncouth forms.

OLF. I must go nearer him; he doth not hear.

TAC. And yet methinks, I speak as I was wont; And--

OLF. Tactus, Tactus!

TAC. Olfactus, as thou lov'st me, come not near me.

OLF. Why, art thou hatching eggs? th'art afeard[185] to break them?

TAC. Touch me not, lest thou chance to break my life.

OLF. What's this under thee?

TAC. If thou meddle with me, I am utterly undone.

OLF. Why, man, what ails thee?

TAC. Let me alone, and I'll tell thee; Lately I came from fine Phantastes' house.

OLF. So I believe, for thou art very foolish.

TAC. No sooner had I parted out of doors[186], But up I held my hands before my face, To shield mine eyes from th'light's piercing beams; When I protest I saw the sun as clear Through these my palms, as through a perspective. No marvel; for when I beheld my fingers, I saw my fingers were transform'd to glass; Opening my breast, my breast was like a window, Through which I plainly did perceive my heart: In whose two concaves[187] I discern'd my thoughts Confus'dly lodged in great multitudes.

OLF. Ha, ha, ha, ha! why, this is excellent, Momus himself can find no fault with thee, Thou'dst make a passing live anatomy; And decide the question much disputed Betwixt the Galenists and Aristotle.

TAC. But when I had arriv'd, and set me down Viewing myself--myself, ay me! was changed, As thou now seest, to a perfect urinal.

OLF. T'a perfect urinal? O monstrous, monstrous! Art not mad to think so?

TAC. I do not think so, but I say I am so, Therefore, Olfactus, come not near, I advise you.

OLF. See the strange working of dull melancholy! Whose drossy thoughts, drying the feeble brain, Corrupts the sense, deludes the intellect, And in the soul's fair table falsely graves Whole squadrons of fantastical chimeras And thousand vain imaginations, Making some think their heads as big as horses, Some that th'are dead[188], some that th'are turn'd to wolves[189], As now it makes him think himself all glass. Tactus, dissuade thyself; thou dost but think so.

TAC. Olfactus, if thou lov'st me, get thee gone; I am an urinal, I dare not stir For fear of cracking in the bottom.

OLF. Wilt thou sit thus all day?

TAC. Unless thou help me.

OLF. Bedlam must help thee. What wouldst have me do?

TAC. Go to the city, make a case for me; Stuff it with wool, then come again and fetch me.

OLF. Ha, ha, ha! Thou'lt be laughed out of case and countenance.

TAC. I care not. So it must be, or I cannot stir.

OLF. I had best leave troubling him; he's obstinate. Urinal, I leave you, but above all things take heed Jupiter sees you not; for, if he do, he'll ne'er make water in a sieve again; thou'lt serve his turn so fit, to carry his water unto Esculapius. Farewell, Urinal, farewell. [_Exit_ OLFACTUS.

TAC. Speak not so loud; the sound's enough to crack me. What, is he gone? I an urinal! ha, ha, ha! I protest I might have had my face washed finely if he had meant to abuse me. I an urinal! ha, ha, ha! Go to, Urinal; you have 'scaped a fair scouring. Well, I'll away, and get me to mine own house; there I'll lock up myself fast, playing the chemic, Augmenting this one crown to troops of angels, With which gold-winged messengers I mean To work great wonders, as to build and purchase; Fare daintily; tie up men's tongues and loose them; Command their lives, their goods, their liberties, And captive all the world with chains of gold. Hey, hey, tery, linkum tinkum. [_He offers to go out, but comes in suddenly amazed_. O Hercules! Fortune, the queen, delights to play with me, Stopping my passage with the sight of Visus: But as he makes hither, I'll make hence, There's more ways to the wood than one[190]. What, more devils to affright me? O Diabolo! Gustus comes here to vex me. So that I, poor wretch, am like A shuttlecock betwixt two battledoors. If I run there, Visus beats me to Scylla; If here, then Gustus blows me to Charybdis. Neptune hath sworn my hope shall suffer shipwreck. What shall I say? mine Urinal's too thin To bide the fury of such storms as these.

SCAENA OCTAVA.

VISUS _in a garland of bays, mixed with white and
red roses, a light-coloured taffeta mantle striped
with silver, and fringed upon green silk bases,
buskins, &c_. GUSTUS _in the same fashion, differing
only in colour_. TACTUS _in a corner of the stage_.

VISUS, GUSTUS, TACTUS.

VIS. Gustus, good day.

GUS. I cannot have a bad, Meeting so fair an omen as yourself.

TAC. Shall I? will't prove? ha! well, 'tis best to venture.
[TACTUS _puts on the robes_.

GUS. Saw you not Tactus? I should speak with him.

TAC. Perchance so; a sudden lie hath best luck.

VIS. That face is his, or else mine eye's deceiv'd. Why, how now, Tactus! what, so gorgeous?

GUS. Where didst thou get these fair habiliments?

TAC. Stand back, I charge you, as you love your lives; By Styx, the first that toucheth me shall die.

VIS. I can discern no weapons. Will he kill us?

TAC. Kill you? not I, but come not near me, You had best.

VIS. Why, art thou mad?

TAC. Friends, as you love your lives, Venture not once to come within my reach.

GUS. Why dost threaten so?

TAG. I do not threaten, But in pure love advise you for the best: Dare not to touch me, but hence fly apace; Add wings unto your feet, and save your lives.

VIS. Why, what's the matter, Tactus? prythee, tell me?

TAC. If you will needs jeopard your lives so long, As hear the ground of my amazedness, Then for your better safety stand aside.

GUS. How full of ceremonies! sure he'll conjure; For such like robes magicians use to wear.

VIS. I'll see the end, though he should unlock hell, And set th'infernal hags at liberty.

TAC. How rash is man on hidden harms[191] to rush! It was my chance--O chance most miserable!-- To walk that way that to Crumena leads.

GUS. You mean Cremona, a little town hard-by.

TAC. I say Crumena, called Vacua, A town which doth, and always hath belong'd, Chiefly to scholars. From Crumena walls I saw a man come stealing craftily, Apparell'd in this vesture which I wear; But, seeing me, eftsoons[192] he took his heels, And threw his garment from him all in haste, Which I perceiving to be richly wrought, Took it me up; but, good, now get you gone, Warn'd by my harms, and 'scape my misery.

VIS. I know no danger: leave these circumstances.

TAC. No sooner had I put it on my back, But suddenly mine eyes began to dim, My joints wex[193] sore, and all my body burn['d] With most intestine torture, and at length It was too evident, I had caught the plague.

VIS. The plague! away, good Gustus, let's be gone; I doubt 'tis true, now I remember me, Crumena Vacua never wants the plague.

GUS. Tactus, I'll put myself in jeopardy To pleasure thee.

TAC. No, gentle Gustus, Your absence is the only thing I wish, Lest I infect you with my company.

GUS. Farewell. [_Exit_ GUSTUS.

VIS. I willingly would stay to do thee good.

TAC. A thousand thanks; but since I needs must die, Let it suffice, death only murders me. O, 'twould augment the dolour of my death, To know myself the most unhappy bow, Through which pale death should aim his shafts at you.

VIS. Tactus, farewell; yet die with this good hope, Thy corpse shall be interred as it ought. [_Exit_ VISUS.

TAC. Go, make my tomb, provide my funerals; ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Excellent asses thus to be deluded, Bewail his death and cruel destinies, That lives, and laughs your fooleries to scorn. But where's my crown! O, here: I well deserve Thus to be crown'd for two great victories! Ha, ha, ha! Visus, take care my corpse be well interr'd: Go make my tomb, and write upon the stone,

_Here lies the Sense that living[194] gull'd them all
With a false plague and feigned urinal_.

SCAENA NONA.

AUDITUS, TACTUS.

AUD. Tactus, Tactus!

TAC. O Jupiter, 'tis Auditus, all's marred, I doubt: the sly knave hears so far; but yet I'll grope him. How now, Ears[195], what make you here, ha?

AUD. Nay, what make you here, I pray? What were you talking even now of an ass, and a crown, and an urinal, and a plague?

TAC. A plague on you! what, I?

AUD. O, what you!

TAC. O, I had well-nigh forgot; nothing; but I say--

AUD. What?

TAC. That if a man (do you mark, sir?), being sick of the plague (do you see, sir?), had a, a, a--hem, hem (this cold troubles me; it makes me cough sometimes extremely)--had a French crown, sir, (you understand me?) lying by him, and (come hither, come hither), and would not bestow twopence (do you hear?) to buy an urinal (do you mark me?) to carry his water to the physician, hem!

AUD. What of all this?

TAC. I say such a one was a very ass. This was all. I use to speak to myself, when I am alone; but, Auditus, when shall we hear a new set of singing-books? Or the viols? Or the concert of instruments?

AUD. This was not all, for I heard mention of a tomb and an epitaph.

TAC. True, true, I made myself merry with this epitaph upon such a fool's tomb thus a--thus, thus: plague brought this man--foh, I have forgotten--O, thus, plague brought this man (so, so, so), unto his burial, because, because, because (hem, hem)--because he would not buy an urinal. Come, come, Auditus, shall we hear thee play the lyreway or the luteway, shall we? Or the cornet, or any music? I am greatly revived, when I hear.

AUD. Tactus, Tactus, this will not serve; I heard all. You have not found a crown, you? no, you have not!

SCAENA ULTIMA.

TACTUS, AUDITUS, VISUS, GUSTUS, MENDACIO.

TAC. Peace, peace, faith, peace; come hither, hark thee, Good [Auditus], now.

AUD. I cannot hold, I must needs tell.

TAC. O, do not, do not, do not; come hither. Will you be a fool?

VIS. Had he not wings upon his feet and shoulders?

MEN. Yes, yes, and a fine wand in his hand, Curiously wrapped with a pair of snakes.

TAC. Will half content you? pish, 'twill ne'er be known.

GUS. My life, 'twas Mercury.

MEN. I do not know his name; But this I'm sure, his hat had wings upon't.

VIS. Doubtless 'twas he; but say, my boy, what did he?

MEN. First I beheld him hovering in the air, And then down stooping with an hundred gyres:[196] His feet he fixed on Mount Cephalon;[197] From whence he flew and lighted on that plain, And with disdainful steps soon glided thither: Whither arrived, he suddenly unfolds A gorgeous robe and glittering ornament, And lays them all upon that hillock: This done, he wafts his wand, took wing again, And in a moment vanish'd out of sight. With that mine eyes 'gan stare, and heart grew cold, And all my quiv'ring joints with sweat bedew'd: My heels (methought) had wings as well as his, And so away I ran; but by the way I met a man, as I thought, coming thither.

GUS. What marks had he?

MEN. He had a great--what! this is he, this is he.

VIS. What, Tactus?

GUS. This was the plague vex'd him so: Tactus, your grave gapes for you; are you ready?

VIS. Since you must needs die, do as others do, Leave all your goods behind you; bequeath The crown and robe to your executors.

TAC. No such matter; I, like the Egyptian kings,[198] For the more state will be buried in them.

VIS. Come, come, deliver.
[VISUS _snatcheth the crown, and sees letters graven in it_.

TAC. What, will you take my purse from me?

VIS. No, but a crown, that's just more than your own. Ha, what's this? 'tis a very small hand, What inscription is this?

_He of the five that proves himself the best,
Shall have his temples with this coronet blest_.

This crown is mine, and mine this garment is; For I have always been accounted best--

TAC. Next after me--high[199] as yourself at any time: Besides, I found it first, therefore 'tis mine.

GUS. Neither of yours, but mine as much as both.

AUD. And mine the most of any of you all.

VIS. Give me it, or else--

TAC. I'll make you late repent it--

GUS. Presumptuous as you are--

AUD. Spite of your teeth--

MEN. Never till now. Ha, ha! it works apace. [_Aside_. Visus, I know 'tis yours; and yet methinks, Auditus, you should have some challenge to it; But that your title, Tactus, is so good, Gustus, I would swear the coronet were yours: What, will you all go brawl about a trifle? View but the pleasant coast of Microcosm, Is't not great pity to be rent with wars? Is't not a shame to stain with brinish tears The smiling cheeks of ever-cheerful peace? Is't not far better to live quietly, Than broil in fury of dissension? Give me the crown, ye shall not disagree, If I can please you. I'll play Paris' part, And, most impartial, judge the controversy.

VIS. Sauce-box! go meddle with your lady's fan, And prate not here.

MEN. I speak not for myself, But for my country's sole[200] commodity.

VIS. Sirrah, be still.

MEN. Nay, and you be so hot, the devil part you! I'll to Olfactus, and send him amongst you. O, that I were Alecto for your sakes! How liberally would I bestow my snakes! [_Exit_ MENDACIO.

VIS. Tactus, upon thine honour, I challenge thee to meet me here, Strong as thou canst provide, in th'afternoon.

TAC. I undertake the challenge, and here's my hand, In sign thou shalt be answered.

GUS. Tactus, I'll join with thee, on this condition That, if we win, he that fought best of us Shall have the crown, the other wear the robe.

TAC. Give me your hand: I like the motion.

VIS. Auditus, shall we make our forces double Upon the same terms?

AUD. Very willingly.

VIS. Come, let's away: fear not the victory; Right's more advantage than an host of soldiers.

[_Exeunt omnes_.

ACTUS SECUNDUS, SCAENA PRIMA.

APPETITUS, _a long, lean, raw-boned fellow,
in a soldier's coat, a sword, &c_.

MENDACIO, APPETITUS.

MEN. I long to see those hotspur Senses at it: they say they have gallant preparations, and not unlikely, for most of the soldiers are ready in arms, since the last field fought against their yearly enemy Meleager[201] and his wife Acrasia; that conquest hath so fleshed them, that no peace can hold them. But had not Meleager been sick, and Acrasia drunk, the Senses might have whistled for the victory.

APP. Foh, what a stink of gunpowder is yonder!

MEN. Who's this? O, O, 'tis Appetitus, Gustus's hungry parasite.
[_Aside_.]

APP. I cannot endure the smoking of guns, the thundering of drums: I had rather hear the merry hacking of pot-herbs, and see the reeking of a hot capon. If they would use no other bucklers in war but shields of brawn, brandish no swords but sweards of bacon,[202] trail no spears but spare-ribs of pork, and instead of arquebuss pieces discharge artichoke-pies: toss no pikes but boiled pickrels, then Appetitus would rouse up his crest, and bear up himself with the proudest.

MEN. Ah! here's a youth stark naught at a trench, but an old dog at a trencher, a tall squire at a square table. [_Aside_.]

APP. But now my good masters must pardon me; I am not one for their service, for their service is without service, and indeed their service is too hot for my diet. But what, if I be not myself, but only this be my spirit that wanders up and down, and Appetitus be killed in the camp? the devil he is as soon. How's that possible? tut, tut, I know I am. I am Appetitus, and alive, too--by this infallible token, that I feel myself hungry.

MEN. Thou mightest have taken a better token of thyself, by knowing thou art a fool. [_Aside_.]

APP. Well, then, though I made my fellow-soldiers admire the beauty of my back, and wonder at the nimbleness of my heels, yet now will I, at safety at home, tell in what dangers they are in abroad. I'll speak nothing but guns and glaves,[203] and staves and phalanges,[204] and squadrons and barricadoes, ambuscadoes, palmedoes, blank-point, demi-point,[205] counterpoint, counterscarp, sallies and lies, saladoes, tarantantaras, ranta, tara, tara, hey.

MEN. I must take the fife out of his mouth, or he'll ne'er ha' done.
[_Aside_.]

APP. But, above all, I'll be sure on my knees to thank the great--

[MENDACIO _blinds him_.

MEN. Who am I, who am I, who I?

APP. By the blood-stained falchion of Mavors,[206] I am on your side.

MEN. Why, who am I?

APP. Are you a soldier?

MEN. No.

APP. Then you are Master Helluo the bearward.

MEN. No, no; he's dead.

APP. Or Gulono the gutty serjeant, or Delphino the vintner, or else I know you not; for these are all my acquaintance.

MEN. Would I were hanged, if I be any of these!

APP. What, Mendacio! By the faith of a knight, thou art welcome; I must borrow thy whetstone, to sharpen the edges of my martial compliments.

MEN. By the faith of a knight! What a pox, where are thy spurs?[207]

APP. I need no spurs; I ride, like Pegasus, on a winged horse--on a swift jennet, my boy, called Fear.

MEN. What shouldst thou fear in the wars? He's not a good soldier that hath not a good stomach.

APP. O, but the stink of powder spoils Appetitus's stomach, and then thou knowest, when 'tis gone, Appetitus is dead; therefore I very manfully drew my sword, and flourished it bravely about mine ears, hist![208] and finding myself hurt, most manfully ran away.

MEN. All heart indeed, for thou rann'st like a hart out of the field. It seems, then, the Senses mean to fight it out.

APP. Ay, and outfight themselves, I think; and all about a trifle, a paltry bauble found, I know not where.

MEN. Thou art deceived: they fight for more than that; a thing called superiority, of which the crown is but an emblem.

APP. Mendacio, hang this superiority; crown me no crown, but Bacchus's crown of roses; give me no sceptre but a fat capon's leg, to show that I am the great king of Hungary! Therefore, I prythee, talk no more of state-matters: but in brief, tell me, my little rascal, how thou hast spent thy time this many a day.

MEN. Faith, in some credit, since thou sawest me last.

APP. How so? where?

MEN. Everywhere. In the court your gentlewomen hang me at their apron-strings, and that makes them answer so readily. In the city I am honoured like a god; none so well acquainted with your tradesmen. Your lawyers, all the termtime, hire me of my lady; your gallants, if they hear my name abused, they stab for my sake; your travellers so doat upon me as passes.[209] O, they have good reason; for I have carried them to many a good meal under the countenance of my familiarity. Nay, your statesmen have oftentimes closely conveyed me under their tongues, to make their policies more current. As for old men, they challenge my company by authority.

APP. I am exceeding glad of your great promotion.

MEN. Now, when I am disposed, I can philosophy it in the university with the subtlest of them all.

APP. I cannot be persuaded that thou art acquainted with scholars, ever since thou wert pressed to death in a printing-house.

MEN. No? why, I was the first founder of the three sects of philosophy, except one of the Peripatetics, who acknowledge Aristotle, I confess, their great grandfather.

APP. Thou boy! how is this possible? Thou art but a child, and there were sects of philosophy, before thou wert born.

MEN. Appetitus, thou mistakest me. I tell thee, three thousand years ago was Mendacio born in Greece,[210] nursed in Crete, and ever since honoured everywhere. I'll be sworn I held old Homer's pen, when he writ his Iliads and his Odysseys.

APP. Thou hadst need, for I hear say he was blind.

MEN. I helped Herodotus to pen some part of his "Muses";[211] lent Pliny ink to write his history; rounded Rabelais in the ear,[212] when he historified Pantagruel: as for Lucian, I was his genius. O, those two books "De Vera Historia," howsoever they go under his name, I'll be sworn I writ them every tittle.

APP. Sure as I am hungry, thou'st have it for lying. But hast thou rusted this latter time for want of exercise?

MEN. Nothing less. I must confess I would fain have jogged Stow and great Hollingshed on their elbows, when they were about their chronicles; and, as I remember, Sir John Mandeville's "Travels" and a great part of the "Decads"[213] were of my doing. But for the "Mirror of Knighthood," "Bevis of Southampton," "Palmerin of England," "Amadis of Gaul," "Huon de Bordeaux," "Sir Guy of Warwick," "Martin Marprelate," "Robin Hood," "Garragantua," "Gerileon," and a thousand such exquisite monuments as these, no doubt but they breathe in my breath up and down.

APP. Downwards, I'll swear, for there's stinking lies in them.

MEN. But what, should I light a candle to the bright sunshine of my glorious renown? The whole world is full of Mendacio's fame.

APP. And so it will be so long as the world is full of fame.

MEN. But, sirrah, how hast thou done this long time?

APP. In as much request as thyself. To begin with the court, as thou didst: I lie with the ladies all night, and that's the reason they call for cullies and gruellies so early before their prayers. Your gallants never sup, breakfast, or bever[214] without me.

MEN. That's false, for I have seen them eat with a full stomach.

APP. True, but because they know a little thing drives me from them, therefore in midst of meat they present me with some sharp sauce or a dish of delicate anchovies, or a caviare,[215] to entice me back again. Nay, more: your old sires, that hardly go without a prop, will walk a mile or two every day to renew their acquaintance with me. As for the academy, it is beholding to me for adding the eighth province unto the noble Heptarchy of the liberal sciences.[216]

MEN. What's that, I prythee?

APP. The most desired and honourable art of cookery. Now, sirrah, in the city I am------'st, 'st! O, the body of a louse!

MEN. What, art a louse in the city?

APP. Not a word more; for yonder comes Phantastes and somebody else.

MEN. What a pox can Phantastes do?

APP. Work a miracle, if he would prove wise.

MEN. 'Tis he indeed, the vilest nup.[217] Yet the fool loves me exceedingly; but I care not for his company, for if he once catch me, I shall never be rid of him.

[_Exeunt_ APPETITUS _and_ MENDACIO.

SCAENA SECUNDA.

PHANTASTES, _a swart-complexioned fellow, but quick-eyed, in a
white satin doublet of one fashion, green velvet hose of another,
a fantastical hat with a plume of feathers of several colours, a
little short taffeta cloak, a pair of buskins cut, drawn out with
sundry-coloured ribbands, with scarfs hung about him after all
fashions and of all colours, rings, jewels, a fan, and in every
place other odd complements_.[218] HEURESIS, _a nimble-sprited
page in the newest fashion, with a garland of bays, &c_.

PHANTASTES, HEURESIS.

PHA. Sirrah boy! Heuresis! boy! how now, biting your nails?

HEU. Three things have troubled my brain this many a day, and just now, when I was laying hold on the invention of them, your sudden call made them, like Tantalus's apples, fly from my fingers.

PHA. Some great matters, questionless; what were they?

HEU. The quadrature of a circle, the philosopher's stone, and the next way to the Indies.

PHA. Thou dost well to meditate on these three things at once, for they'll be found out altogether--_ad Graecas Calendas_; but let them pass, and carry the conceit I told you this morning to the party you wot of. In my imagination 'tis capricious; 'twill take, I warrant thee.

HEU. I will, sir. But what say you to the gentleman that was with you yesterday?

PHA. O, I think thou meanest him that made nineteen sonnets of his mistress's busk-point.[219]

HEU. The same, the same, sir. You promised to help him out with the twentieth.

PHA. By Jupiter's cloven pate, 'tis true. But we witty fellows are so forgetful; but stay, Heu, Heu,[220] carry him this.

_The Gordian knot, which Alexander great
Did whilom, cut with his all-conquering sword,
Was nothing like thy busk-point, pretty peat,[221]
Nor could so fair an augury afford_.

Then to conclude, let him pervert Catullas's _Zonam solvit diu ligatum_ thus, thus--

_Which if I chance to cut, or else untie,
Thy little world I'll conquer presently_.

'Tis pretty, pretty, tell him 'twas extemporal.

HEU. Well, sir, but now for Master Inamorato's love-letter.

PHA. Some nettling stuff, i'faith; let him write thus: _Most heart-commanding-faced gentlewoman, even as the stone in India, called Basaliscus, hurts all that looks on it, and as the serpent in Arabia, called Smaragdus, delighteth the sight, so does thy celestial orb-assimilating eyes both please, and in pleasing wound my love-darted heart_.

HEU. But what trick shall I invent for the conclusion?

PHA. Pish, anything, love will minister ink for the rest. He that [hath] once begun well, hath half done; let him begin again, and there's all.

HEU. Master Gullio spoke for a new fashion; what for him?

PHA. A fashion for his suit! Let him button it down the sleeve with four elbows, and so make it the pure hieroglyphic of a fool.

HEU. Nay, then let me request one thing of you.

PHA. What's that, boy? By this fair hand, thou shalt have it.

HEU. Mistress Superbia, a gentlewoman of my acquaintance, wished me to devise her a new set for her ruff and an odd tire. I pray, sir, help me out with it.

PHA. Ah, boy, in my conceit 'tis a hard matter to perform. These women have well-nigh tired me with devising tires for them, and set me at a nonplus for new sets. Their heads are so light, and their eyes so coy, that I know not how to please them.

HEU. I pray, sir, she hath a bad face, and fain would have suitors. Fantastical and odd apparel would perchance draw somebody to look on her.

PHA. If her face be nought, in my opinion, the more view it the worse. Bid her wear the multitude of her deformities under a mask, till my leisure will serve to devise some durable and unstained blush of painting.

HEU. Very good, sir.

PHA. Away, then, hie thee again; meet me at the court within this hour at the farthest. [_Exit_ HEURESIS.] O heavens! how have I been troubled these latter times with women, fools, babes, tailors, poets, swaggerers, gulls, ballad-makers! They have almost disrobed me of all the toys and trifles I can devise. Were it not that I pity the multitude of printers, these sonnet-mongers should starve for conceits for all Phantastes. But these puling lovers--I cannot but laugh at them, and their encomiums of their mistresses. They make, forsooth, her hair of gold, her eyes of diamond, her cheeks of roses, her lips of rubies, her teeth of pearl, and her whole body of ivory; and when they have thus idoled her like Pygmalion, they fall down and worship her.[222] Psyche, thou hast laid a hard task upon my shoulders to invent at every one's ask. Were it not that I refresh my dulness once a day with thy most angelical presence, 'twere impossible for me to undergo it.

SCAENA TERTIA.

COMMUNIS SENSUS, _a grave man, in a black velvet cassock
like a councillor, speaks coming out of the door_.

COMMUNIS SENSUS, PHANTASTES.

COM. SEN. I cannot stay, I tell you. 'Tis more than time I were at court. I know my sovereign Psyche hath expected me this hour.

PHA. In good time; yonder comes Common Sense. I imagine it should be he by his voice.

COM. SEN. Crave my counsel! Tell me what manner of man he is? Can he entertain a man in his house? Can he hold his velvet cap in one hand, and vail[223] his bonnet with the other? Knows he how to become a scarlet gown? Hath he a pair of fresh posts at his door?[224]

PHA. He's about some hasty state matters. He talks of posts, methinks.

COM. SEN. Can he part a couple of dogs brawling in the street? Why, then, choose him mayor. Upon my credit, he'll prove a wise officer.

PHA. Save you, my lord; I have attended your leisure this hour.

COM. SEN. Fie upon't! What a toil have I had to choose them a mayor yonder? There's a fusty currier will have this man; there's a chandler wipes his nose on his sleeve, and swears it shall not be so; there's a mustard-maker looks as keen as vinegar will have another. O, this many-headed multitude, 'tis a hard matter to please them!

PHA. Especially where the multitude is so well-headed. But I pray you, where's Master Memory? Hath he forgotten himself, that he is not here?

COM. SEN. 'Tis high time he were at court. I would he would come.

SCAENA QUARTA.

MEMORY, _an old decrepit man, in a black velvet cassock,[225]
a taffeta gown furred with white grogram, a white beard, velvet
slippers, a watch, staff, &c_. ANAMNESTES, _his page, in a grave
satin suit, purple buskins, a garland of bays and rosemary, a
gimmal ring[226] with one link hanging, ribbons and threads tied
to some of his fingers; in his hand a pair of table-books, &c_.

MEMORY, ANAMNESTES, PHANTASTES, COMMUNIS SENSUS.

MEM. How soon a wise man shall have his wish!

COM. SEN. Memory, the season of your coming is very ripe.

PHA. Had you stayed a little longer, 'twould have been stark rotten.

MEM. I am glad I saved it from the swine. 'Sprecious, I have forgot something. O, my purse, my purse! Why, Anamnestes, Remembrance? that wild boy is always gadding. I remember he was at my heels even now, and now the vile rascal is vanished.

PHA. Is he not here? Why, then in my imagination he's left behind. Hollo! Anamnestes, Remembrance!

ANA. [_Running in haste_.] Anon, anon, sir; anon, anon, sir; anon, anon, sir; anon, anon, sir.

MEM. Ha, sirrah, what a brawling's here?

ANA. I do but give you an answer with, anon, sir.

MEM. You answer sweetly; I have called you three or four times one after another.

ANA. Sir, I hope I answered you three or four times, one in the neck of another. But if your good worship have lent me any more calls, tell me, and I'll repay them, as I'm a gentleman.

MEM. Leave your tattle. Had you come at first, I had not spent so much breath in vain.

ANA. The truth is, sir, the first time you called I heard you not: the second, I understood you not: the third, I knew not whether it were you or no: the fourth, I could not tell where you were, and that's the reason I answered so suddenly.

MEM. Go, sirrah: run: seek everywhere. I have lost my purse somewhere.

ANA. I go, sir. _Go, sirrah, seek, run; I have lost; bring_! here's a dog's life, with a pox! Shall I be always used like a water-spaniel? [_Exit_ ANAMNESTES.

COM. SEN. Come, good Master Register, I wonder you be so late now-a-days.

MEM. My good lord, I remember that I knew your grandfather in this your place, and I remember your grandfather's great grandfather's grandfather's father's father; yet in those days I never remember that any of them could say that Register Memory ever broke one minute of his appointment.

COM. SEN. Why, good father, why are you so late now-a-days?

MEM. Thus 'tis; the most customers I remember myself to have, are, as your lordship knows, scholars; and now-a-days the most of them are become critics, bringing me home such paltry things to lay up for them, that I can hardly find them again.

PHA. Jupiter, Jupiter, I had thought these flies had bit none but myself: do critics tickle you, i'faith?

MEM. Very familiarly: for they must know of me, forsooth, how every idle word is written in all the musty moth-eaten manuscripts, kept in all the old libraries in every city betwixt England and Peru.

COM. SEN. Indeed, I have noted these times to affect antiquities more than is requisite.

MEM. I remember, in the age of Assaracus and Ninus, and about the wars of Thebes and the siege of Troy, there were few things committed to my charge, but those that were well worthy the preserving; but now every trifle must be wrapped up in the volume of eternity. A rich pudding-wife or a cobbler cannot die but I must immortalise his name with an epitaph; a dog cannot piss in a nobleman's shoe, but it must be sprinkled into the chronicles; so that I never could remember my treasure more full, and never emptier of honourable and true heroical actions.

PHA. By your leave, Memory, you are not alone troubled; chronologers many of them are so fantastic, as when they bring a captain to the combat, lifting up his revengeful arm to dispart the head of his enemy, they'll hold up his arms so long, till they have bestowed three or four pages in describing the gold hilts of his threatening falchion: so that in my fancy the reader may well wonder his adversary stabs him not, before he strikes. Moreover, they are become most palpable flatterers, always begging at my gates for invention.

COM. SEN. This is a great fault in a chronologer to turn parasite: an absolute historian should be in fear of none;[227] neither should he write anything more than truth for friendship, or less for hate; but keep himself equal and constant in all his discourses. But, for us, we must be contented; for, as our honours increase, so must the burthen of the cares of our offices urge us to wax heavy.

PHA. But not till our backs break; 'slud, there was never any so haunted as I am: this day there comes a sophister to my house, knocks at my door; his errand being asked, forsooth his answer was to borrow a fair suit of conceits out of my wardrobe, to apparel a show he had in hand: and what think you is the plot?

COM. SEN. Nay, I know not, for I am little acquainted with such toys.

PHA. Meanwhile, he's somewhat acquainted with you, for he's bold to bring your person upon the stage.

COM. SEN. What, me? I can't remember that I was ever brought upon the stage before.

PHA. Yes, you, and you, and myself with all my fantastical tricks and humours: but I trow I have fitted him with fooleries: I trust he'll never trouble me again.

COM. SEN. O times! O manners! when boys dare to traduce men in authority; was ever such an attempt heard?

MEM. I remember there was: for, to say the truth, at my last being at Athens--it is now, let me see, about one thousand eight hundred years ago--I was at a comedy of Aristophanes' making.[228] I shall never forget it; the arch-governor of Athens took me by the hand, and placed me; and there, I say, I saw Socrates abused most grossly, himself being then a present spectator: I remember he sat full against me, and did not so much as show the least countenance of discontent.

COM. SEN. In those days it was lawful; but now the abuse of such liberty is insufferable.

PHA. Think what you will of it, I think 'tis done, and I think it is acting by this time: hark, hark; what drumming's yonder! I'll lay my life they are come to present the show I spake of.

COM. SEN. It may be so; stay, we'll see what 'tis.

SCAENA QUINTA.

LINGUA, MENDACIO, COMMUNIS SENSUS, _and the rest_.

LIN. Feign thyself in great haste.

MEN. I warrant you, madam: I doubt 'tis in vain to run, by this they are all past overtaking.

COM. SEN. Is not this Lingua, that is in such haste?

PHA. Yes, yes, stand still.

MEN. I must speak with him.

COM. SEN. With whom?

MEN. Assure yourself they are all at court ere this.

LIN. Run after them, for, unless he know it--

COM. SEN. Lingua!

LIN. O, is't your lordship? I beseech you, pardon me. Haste and fear, I protest, put out mine eyes: I looked so long for you, that I knew not, when I had found you.

PHA. In my conceit that's like the man that inquired who saw his ass, when himself rid on him.

LIN. O, my heart beats so! fie, fie, fie, fie!

MEN. I am so weary; so, so, so, so.

COM. SEN. I prythee, Lingua, make an end.