Chapter V: Act III: Enter Hurlothrumbo and Dologodelmo

_Dolo._ _Hurlothrumbo_, are you ready to mount?

_Hurlo._ ’Tis confounded dark, must we not stay for the King?

_Dolo._ No; the Princess _Cademore_ will not hear of his going to the Wars; at the Sound of the Word, she faints, sinks and dies away.

[_Exit_ Dolo.

_Enter_ Servant _with a Letter, delivers it, and Exit_.

[Hurlo. _reads it_.

_Hurlo._ Oh ’tis from _Darony_! _Make me the next Man to the Crown, if I desert the King_; how can I do that? Why did he not ask me to murder my dearest Friend, curse the Deity, or debauch a Man’s Wife, and separate their Souls eternal? _It will preserve a great deal of Blood_, that’s true. _So long as_ Theorbeo _stays, thy Honour wears like a Garment_: may be so; I’ll consider of this.

[_Exit_ Hurlo.

_Enter_ Darony _and_ Urlandenny.

[_Guns fire at a distance._

_Daro._ They’re punctual to the time.

_Urlan._ True, my Lord.

_Daro._ This is the Place we’ll fix our Standard; now the Guns are discharg’d, the Men from every end of the City with a Shout will come to this Place, and stir not you an Inch till _Lomporhomock_ enters the City. Who comes there?

_Enter_ Temo.

_Temo._ A Friend and Servant of thine.

_Urlan._ What is thy Name, and thy Business here in the Dead of Night?

_Temo._ My Name is _Temo_; as to my Business, ’tis secret.

_Urlan._ You are the famous Inchanter; can you tell us what Adventures will happen, the cause of the Guns firing thus early?

_Temo._ ’Tis the first Volly of a mighty War; this Morning exactly at two the Battle will be rehears’d first in the _Elysian_ Fields.

_Urlan._ Is it not possible for me to see it?

_Temo._ ’Tis possible.

_Urlan._ Accept of this Purse of Guineas; let me see, the time is now expired.

[Temo _stamps, a Spirit rises up, and gives him a
Talisman_.

_Temo._ You shall, my Lord; hold this firm to your right Eye: tell me what you see.

_Urlan._ I see the _Elysian_ World, ’tis light as Noon of Day, and all us Mortals act in yonder Climes: I see myself, I see _Hurlothrumbo_; _Hurlo_ kisses a Lass; the Spirits smile; I stir my Hand, it moves yonder. _Mars_ stands in the Element, and beholds the People; they divide, and make two separate Armies; Death stalks among the Croud, marking his own Appointed. Oh! he makes towards me! oh! he’ll touch me; take it I’ll see no more.

[_A shout behind the Scenes, Fire and Sword! Fire and
Sword! rise quickly._

_Daro._ This is _Puny_’s House, the Miser, break it open.

_Urlan._ Forbear, forbear he’ll rise and open the Door; fall back, he comes.

_Daro._ I’ll go head the Mob, break open the King’s Treasury, and satisfy their Thirst with Gold; then will I take possession of his Person, and his Crown.

[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Puny.

_Puny._ Oh bless me! Fire and Sword! I shall not live three Minutes! if my trembling Limbs permit me, I’ll kneel, I’ll pray Heaven preserve my poor Soul; these Villains will come in a moment, and take every Penny of my Money; I desire I may be forgiven all my Sins. These Rogues are coming, they’ll rob me, take my Plate, and break my Windows: O sweet Heaven forgive me all my ill-dreamt visionary Lewdness! If they come, I shall never purchase _Kemp_’s Estate, but buy a Coat of Arms, and a Patent for my Son.

_Enter_ Urlandenny _and_ Temo.

_Urlan._ So old _Gaddecar_, you’re at Prayers, cry aloud, thy Deity is deaf, with your squinting Soul that kens both Earth and Heaven; fling your Bags into the Elements, then will you look straight upright: Be gone, what hast thou to do in this World? What dost thou mean?

_Puny._ I mean to be the Root of a Family.

_Urlan._ If the Root be Avarice, what will the Body, Branches, Leaves and Fruit be? Twenty Generations must pass away, before thy Seed can be refined so far, as to produce a Gentleman.

_Puny._ Is not Gold a Gentleman, a Person of Quality? What makes a Gentleman?

_Urlan._ Education, Honour, and Generosity; add to a fine Gentleman Love, Resolution, Taste; a Person of Quality has all these Perfections, and is discerning, with a sublime Thirst in the Soul; a longing to reward Merit; fervent to serve the meanest, and punctual to his Word; his Blood is double and treble refin’d; he’s full of Heaven; a Sunfire; a Light that quenches all the Flame of Nature; he lets himself down to converse with great Men and Angels, that are in Intellect but three Inches high.

_Puny._ Cannot a new-born Gentleman have all these Perfections?

_Urlan._ No, your Upstarts are huge, and tall, converse with a Prince of the Air, and their Nostrils are full of the Devil.

[_Ex._ Pun. _and_ Tem.

_Drums beat. Enter_ Darony.

_Dar._ Now, my dear Friend, all is secured, the King is in Chains.

_Urlan._ What Drums are these?

_Dar._ _Lomperhomock_, the _Dutch_ General.

_Enter_ Lomperhomock.

My Lord _Lomperhomock_, you’re welcome to Court.

_Lom._ I wish you much Happiness of your Crown, when it is secured.

_Dar._ I hope there is no Danger.

_Lom._ ’Tis my earnest Desire that you will instantly execute the King; for while he’s living, all his Friends will rouse up like Lions, but when they hear he’s dead, ’twill greatly oppress their Souls.

_Dar._ He shall instantly be executed.

_Lom._ Then I’ll march in Pleasure, and meet his Army.

[_Ex._ Urland. Dar. _and_ Lom.

_The Scene changes to the King in Prison._

_King._ I would ask Relief of Heaven, though ’tis in vain, when all the eternal Infernals are turn’d out loose upon me, to pour out their flaming Cataracts of mighty, limited Revenge.

_Enter_ Lomperhomock.

_Lomp._ Pardon me, oh King, I am come to inform you, at Six a-Clock this Morning is your appointed Time to die.

[_Ex. King._

_King._ Let them strike me, let these Clouds pass away; let them break the Sky within me, that I may truly see, enter Orbs like the Sun; see Spirits, Angels, and the radiant Fields: but what is that to a Man in Love, a Man whose Heaven’s here? Oh my _Cademore_, who can bear the Pangs of parting! since we must part, ’tis death to live.

_Enter_ Cademore.

_King._ O Executioner art thou come, bring to me a Taste of Torment, a Rack of Nature, like Heaven’s Vengeance, to afflict my Soul? Still thou art my Friend, and something more than Woman, my Prospect-Glass to Paradise; thou Emblem of Eternity; oh how great’s my Thought of Heaven, whilst my Eyes are fix’d on thee! For if the way to live with you, lay through the Shades of Misery, to lodge in tremendous Caves of Darkness, one single Thought of thee would fill Obscurity full of Light, and make it like a Palace adorn’d with Diamonds: but now, oh now, what is my Hope, a Man is never destitute of Hope; but my dear Expectation, my Spring of Life, is now become the Sting of Death: for every Thought of thee shoots through my Heart; and at a Sight of thee, oh ye Goddess! that I could love thee less, and Heaven more.

_Cad._ I am sorry I encrease your Grief, I come in hopes to mitigate your Pain; for every Sigh that proceeds from you, pursues me, and ecchoes in my Breast.

_King._ That I believe, it must be so; ’tis so in Love, ’tis so in Musick, ’tis so in Souls; the fine in Raptures sympathize with cœlestial Joys, revived by all their Unisons in Heaven; but to free thee from Pain, I’ll think no more of Life below, but fly to nobler Thoughts, and pursue my Hopes in Happier Climes.

_Cad._ Cease not to vent your Grief for my Relief, ’tis my Delight to share with you in Suffering; but rather wish that all may be fixed on me, that I may take them to some gentle Stream, and then to lay me down to stifle all in Waves; and there, oh there, let my Spirit expire.

_King._ Nay, no more of that, if thou be my Friend, hate me, be lewd, be infamous, that I may banish thee; oh let me banish thee from every Glance of Thought, that I may take my Sleep, my lasting Sleep in Peace.

_Cad._ Name not that to me.

_King._ Name not what?

_Cad._ Your Death, my Lord.

_King._ ’Tis Death to resign up thee, to yield thee into others Arms; oh my _Cademore_, be a Virgin still, for if you marry, you part from me, and make me jealous in Eternity.

_Cad._ Let no Thought of that arise, the Pangs of your Death will always smart in me, keep me from all and every Thought of Man.

_King._ The Pangs of my Death smart in thee, there is no pain in Death, the Sound of your Words is Musick to my Soul, and makes the ever-living Youth rejoice, and leap for Joy, being ripe for birth, desires to go to Life; but this Body, this timorous Mother Earth; alas she shivers, and dreads the Hour of her Travail, but when that Midwife Death in Life shall give me Birth, Oh! may it be in that Kingdom where thou in long Eternity shall shine; and if my Happiness be no more than what I conceive in thee, and that to last for ever, then let the World say I am nothing, I am dishonourable, the Crown of my Head is dropped from the Kingdom of my Body, so that I may say I live with thee, but when we part.

_Cad._ O my Soul!

_King._ O Heaven!

_Cad._ Oh Angels!

_King._ Burst Heart, and let me fall.

_Cad._ Oh Death! quickly to my Aid.

_King._ Oh my _Cademore_, live!

_Cad._ If it must be so, come visit me after Death.

_King._ Oh how can I promise that? If this great Sun should refuse his Heaven, and slide from Orb to Orb, leave the Elements, prostrate himself on the Earth, fall a Victim at thy Feet, it would only serve to surprize and fire thy Heart; blind thy mortal Eyes; and lest the Garment of the Intellect be thus incomparable and Glorious, make me not promise, for if I promise, ’twill make me uneasy in Heaven, ’till I perform my Word; but if I can entreat to thy Guardian Saint, then I’ll attend thee all the Day, hover and settle upon thy Pillow all the Night, where I’ll converse with thee in Visions, and when thy Time is full done, I’ll wait and watch the closing of thine Eyes, and then will I catch away thy Soul in a Divine Transport; with Cœlestial Wings we’ll soar to the Lofty Mountains in the Clouds, when they shall dissolve like a Bed of Down; our inward Hearts shall kiss each other in Love, in Extasy, and then we’ll fly away together from all Adversity.

[Cademore _faints, and is carried off the Stage_.

Oh my Soul stealeth from me.
Clippeth and hangeth upon thee.

[_King lies down._

_Enter_ Theorbeo. _The King rises._

_King._ Oh _Theorbeo_, I perceive there is an End of Hope; it was my fear they would conquer thee, and bring thee to this Place of Adversity.

_Theor._ It is not so, my Lord, I have left your Troops in trusty Hands, and am come here, that you may make your Escape in my Habit; and by that Time you have reach’d to the Army, I being a Stranger, will pass the Centry again, and come to your Majesty.

_King._ ’Tis an inspired Thought, we’ll put it in Execution.

[_The King dresses himself in_ Theorbeo_’s Clothes_.

Oh _Theorbeo_, grieve not, every Sigh of thine, will make my Heart to weep Drops of Blood; consider a small Affliction by chance may happen; but these great Calamities, must proceed from something Great; and if so, it is Philosophy to rejoice.

_Theor._ But Nature conquers Philosophy, and is a match for Divinity: I am sometimes at wars with my Will, whether to fly to Sin for Refuge, or to Heaven for Relief.

_King._ My Lord I’ll haste away, and in one Hour expect to see you again.

_Theor._ When I think you’re safe, I’ll follow.

[_Ex. King._

_Enter_ Dologodelmo _guarded_.

O _Godelmo_, what brings thee to this Place of Misery? Speak quickly, though I dread to hear.

_Dolo._ May all the Ills that are preparing in the Elements, be dash’d on the Head of _Hurlothrumbo_, that I might die, and my Soul join with his Adversary; I’d fly swiftly with the Ball, and direct it to his inward Heart.

_Theor._ Curse him not; has he deserted you?

_Dolo._ We no sooner entered the Field, but he joined the Adversary; may Heaven pour down upon him the bitter Blessings, the Honey Curse, the gilded Pill, that satisfies Desire, and infects the Mind; give him Riches, and make him love them, then will he be abhorred of Men, the Spirits, the Angels, and the Gods: may a proud Sign appear in his Face, that he may be a Tavern for Devils to riot and banquet in; let him pamper Nature, feed high, to destroy his Taste; so blind all the Beauties of the Mind; then will his hungry Pleasure devour up all the eternal Treasure of his Soul.

_Theor._ _Godelmo_, let thy Passion cease.

_Dolo._ O pardon me, I must be alone, and burst my Heart with sighing.

[_Ex._ Dolo.

_Theor._ O that Heaven would erect an Altar where Man might sacrifice himself an Offering; then surely the Blood of great Men would dye the Spring, the Rivers, and the Seas. O my Soul is full of Calamity, and my Heart is sore with Sorrow.

_Enter_ Flame.

_Fla._ Just now my Rival is with her; I tremble thus in the solemn Gloom, the Noon of Night; my wakeful Soul can find no rest, but from a jealous Dream I start, I rise amazed, in the Face of the Elements, bow, sigh, and think of Sorrow; I wonder what the Moon thinks of me. Oh when, oh when, shall Time and Sorrow cease! Surely _Cupid_’s Dart is the Sting of Death; oh dear Death, oh how I could hug thee. What Sign is it when a Man’s Heart is broken?

_Theor._ That he is in love.

_Fla._ Come, do, let you and I weep together, and pour out all the sour Anguish of our Souls: Women are cruel Creatures; tho’ I could kiss her a thousand thousand Times; oh ye inconstant Wretch, yet I will press my Check to thine, weep, sigh, and part Eternal; Oh!

Oh you dearest Creature,
Heaven is seen in every Feature
Is there no such thing, as learning Charms to move?
No, no, no, ’tis Gold and Honour makes the Fair to love:
Angel, ’tis in vain, if you come like a Swain,
With all your Harps and Arts, and Sweets to please from _Jove_.

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