Read Ebook: A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume 14 by Dodsley Robert Compiler Hazlitt William Carew Editor

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TIN. It chanc'd one day,--and ofttimes so it chanc'd, For doubtful thoughts have ever jealous eyes,-- That my suspicion had begot a fear That my neglectful husband had a kindness, And more than usual, unto my maid-- A proper maid, if so she might be call'd: Now, to possess myself whether those grounds Whereon I built might just inducements be Of my late-hatch'd fears, I made pretence, To go from home. But this was no recede, But a retire: for in the ev'ning-time, When these two amorous pair expected least Such an unwelcome visit, I repair'd To a close arbour set with sycamores, The tamarisk, and sweet-breath'd eglantine, That local object which I fix'd upon, Not of myself, but by direction, Where I found out what I suspected long: Such wanton dalliance as the Lemnian smith Never discover'd more, when he prepar'd His artful net t' enwreath his Eriena Impal'd in Mars his arms.

ALL. Could you contain Your passion in such Aretine a posture?

toy that's worse than nothing, 'Tis this that nettleth me! I must confess Tinder, that light-skirt, with impetuous heat Sometimes pursu'd me, till that quenchless fire Burst into flames of boundless jealousy, Which cross'd mine humour; for variety Relish'd my palate. Phoenix' brains be rare; But if our dishes had no other fare, They would offend the stomach, and so sate it, As grosser meats would give a better taste: Such was my surfeit to a marriage-bed; My fortunes I prefer before her beauty, Or what may most content the appetite. Money will purchase wenches; but this want-- This roguish thing called want--makes wanton thoughts Look much unlike themselves: 'tis this white metal Enliveneth spirits, knits our arteries Firm as Alcides. He that binds himself Apprentice to his wife merely for love, May he, pen-feathered widgeon, forfeit's freedom, With whatsoe'er is dearest to the vogue Of his affections. She were a rare piece That could engage me, or oblige me hers With all those ceremonial rites which Flamens use To Hymen's honour. Beauty, still say I, Will breed a surfeit, be it ne'er so choice Nor eye-attractive. I should choose a grave Before one mistress all mine interest have. O my alimony, alimony! this is the goad that only prickles me.

PLA. Those be your husbands, ladies;--how pitifully they look?

LADIES. Alas, poor cuckolds!

KNIGHTS. Ladies, we were sometimes your husbands.

purpose. Sir Tristram, you have been A man of reading, and on winter nights You told me tales , What strange adventures and what gallant acts Redoubted knights did for their ladies' sakes; But what did you for Medler all the while? Did you e'er toss a pike or brandish blade For her dear sake? Go to, I shall conceal, And with a modest, bashful veil enshroud What sense bids me discover. Let me, sir, Advise you as a friend; for other styles, Relating to an husband, I shall never Henceforth resent them with a free comply: Love suits not well with your decrepit age; Let it be your chief care t' intend your health; Use caudles, cordials, julips, pectorals; Keep your feet warm; bind up your nape o' th' neck Close against chilling airs, that you may live An old man long; but take especial care You button on your nightcap.

MOR. After th' new fashion With his loave-ears without it.

away!

where he likes.

pimps or palliards, Or your choice cabinet-confidants?

TIN. You may exact accompt from them.

SIR REU. No, but I will not; Long since I've heard a proverb made me wise, And arm'd me cap-a-pie 'gainst such accounts: "Whos'e'er he be that tugs with dirty foes, He must be soil'd, admit he win or lose."

TIN. Shall I acquaint them with your adage, sir?

SIR REU. Do, if you please.

TIN. No, sir, I am too tender Of your endanger'd honour. Should a baffle Engage your fame, and I the instrument, It would disgust me.

SIR REU. You are wondrous kind; But, pray you, tell me, is this favourite, Or turnkey of your council, in the rank Of generous Hectors? I would be resolv'd, For it concerns me.

TIN. Pray, good sir, as how?

TIN. Make that your least of fears. We'll keep our fame, Amidst this freedom, still unblemished.

KNIGHTS. So we have all receiv'd their final answers.

SIR REU. Now do I mean to draw up my rejoinder. "He who will lose his wits or break his heart For such a wench as will not take his part, And will not shun what he may safely fly, May he a Bedlam or a beggar die!"

KNIGHTS. Farewell, inconstant ladies.

LADIES. Adieu, constant Acteons.

resentment, which he retained upon those merchants' relation, touching the infinitely surcharging losses which they had suffered through the hostile piracy of the Salamancans, as he made a solemn vow to engage himself in their quarrel, and either revenge the injuries and indignities they had sustained, or seal his just desires with the sacrifice of his dearest life.

MAR. The duke's upon his march, and near approaching.

DUKE. Thus far on our address! May prosperous gales Breathe on our sails: sails, on our just designs In vindicating of our country's fame, Too long impair'd by suffering injuries; Till which redress'd, our honour lies at stake, And we made aliens to our own estate. March on then bravely, that it may appear "Our courage can revenge as well as bear."

CAPT. Keep your ranks, my comrades, and fight valiantly.

CAPT. Agreed, wags. But which shall we have?

THE SEA-SONG.

BEN. I proclaim you all Edomites; dragooners of Dagon; ding-dongs of Dathan! A generation of vipers!

I cannot, gentlemen, contain myself.

TIM. Thy genius has surpass'd itself; Thy scene is richly various: prease on still; These galleries applaud thy comic skill.

WATCH. But what if they either cannot or will not?

CON. Let them then take themselves to their heels, and thank God you are so well rid of them.

WATCH. One word more, good constable, and then good night. Be these the spirits that allure our children with spice and trinkets to their schippers, and so convey them to th' Bermudas?

CON. In no wise, neighbours; these spirits come from the low countries: and though at first sight very frightful, yet, appearing unarmed, they become less fearful.

From the Cinnerian depth here am I come Leaving an Erra Pater in my tomb, To take a view, which of my fellows be The thriving'st artists in astronomy. Rank one by one in astrologic row, And dying see, whom thou didst living know.

This was Cassandra's loss, whom we allow And hold a prophetess as true as thou But not so well believ'd. Take heed, my blade, Thy late predictions cannot retrograde, And give thine erring notions such a check, As they unlink that chain which decks thy neck. Signs sometimes change their influence, we see: I wish the like event befall not thee. The golden number and saturnian line Have been propitious to thee all thy time: Thy says held oracles: thy observations For death, war, weather, held by foreign nations As positive maxims: yet one critical point Will throw this artful fabric out o' joint. Dog-days each year affords; if thou find none, Thy fortune's clearer far than any one. Let me then caution thee, divining Crinon, Lest thy own bosom prove thy treach'rous Sinon, Let not opinion make thy judgment err: "The ev'ning conquest crowns the conqueror." Hope of reward or one victorious field Is no firm ground for any one to build. May ill success clothe him with discontent, That balanceth the cause by the event. Next him ascend, Erigonus, whose art, Richly embellish'd with a loyal heart, Will not permit thy thoughts to stoop so low As to pretend more than thy notions know, Or can attain to. Thou hast ta'en content With as much freedom under strait restraint, As Pibrack in his paradox express'd, Inwardly cheer'd when outwardly distress'd. I have much mus'd, while thou convers'd with us Of the gradations o' th' Celestial House, Yet hadst none of thine own to shelter thee. This was an humour that transported me: To see a mind so large, and to discourse As if he had got Fortunatus' purse! This caus'd me think that we did greatly err In holding thee a mere astrologer, Though't be a sacred-secret speculation, And highly meriting our admiration: But rather some rare stoic, well content With his estate, however the world went. Yet when I saw thine artificial scheme Exactly drawn, as none of more esteem, I wonder'd much how such choice art could want, Unless the whole world were grown ignorant. I heard of late, what I did never dream, Thy farming life had drawn thee to a team, Preferring th' culture of an husbandman Before a needful astrologian, Who in this thankless age may pine and die, Before he profit by astronomy. For though I must confess an artist can Contrive things better than another man, Yet when the task is done, he finds his pains Nought but to fill his belly with his brains. Is this the guerdon due to liberal arts, T' admire the head, and then to starve the parts? Timely prevention thou discreetly us'd, Before the fruits of knowledge were abus'd. "When learning has incurr'd a fearful damp, To save our oil 'tis good to quench our lamp." Rest, then, on thy enjoyments, and receive What may preserve a life, reserve a grave. This with convenience may supply thy store, And lodge thee with content: what wouldst thou more? While he who thirsts for gold, and does receive it, Pules like a baby when he's forc'd to leave it. For you, Liberius, I would have you look For your improvement on your table-book; Where you shall find how you bore once a name Both in the rank of fortune and of fame; But others, rising to a higher merit, Darken'd that splendour which you did inherit, Or those mistakes which caus'd you err so far, As your late years have proved canicular. To waste more paper I would never have you, For I'm resolv'd your book will never save you, Nor you from it receive a benefit. Suppress, then, pray thee, thy leaf-falling wit; Merlin's Collections will not serve thy turn, Retire, retire, and slumber in thine urn. Dotage has chill'd thy brain: in silence sleep; "He's wise enough that can his credit keep." For you, Columba, and rare Peregrine, It is your fate to nestle in a clime Of disadvantage: Wisdom bids you build Where you may dwell, and sow in such a field, Where you may reap the harvest you have sown: "Arts unimprov'd are to no purpose shown." Those only may be truly said to know, Whose knowledge pays their country what they owe; And from labour never cease, Till they have stor'd their hives with sweet increase. Which thriving industry, infus'd by nature In such a small political a creature, Might by a native model render thee Conducts of science in astrology:

For she accounts it as a fruitless toil To browse on suckets in a barren soil. For you, Alatus, mount with airy wing, And to scatter'd nest some feathers bring: Though popular esteem afford delight, It cannot satisfy the appetite. Fame is a painted meat, and cannot feed Nor sate the stomach when it stands in need. This was mine own condition; while I liv'd, I to the highest pitch of fame arriv'd; All the Rialto sounded with my praise, Yet silence shrouded this within few days; For after some few funeral tears were shed, My memory died, before tears went to bed. Yea, in my lifetime, when my state grew low, My fame found none she would conduct me to: And let this caution thee. Though thou swell great In men's conceit, this will not get thee meat. "The only means to raise friends, fame, and store, Is to make industry thy providor." For Atro-Lucus Serands, they be such I would not touch them, lest I should too much Impeach their branded fames: one word for all-- As their disgrace is great, their knowledge small: Let these demoniacs practise less in black, It will discolour all their almanac. But this was not my errand. I would know How ladies with their husbands suit below. Those frolic girls, I mean, and of none else, Who were induc'd by mine and Crinon's spells

that can breed by the air, or procreate of ourselves?

have not one drawer to attend them. Who goes into the Ladies' Garden?

Warble with shrillest notes, pricks at their breasts, Tereus' incestuous crime; as if't had been A fact inexpiable: wherein we doubt, What we should do, if were put unto't. This is a garden, sure, of great frequent.

ALL. The motion's wondrous good; We all assent to't.

JOC. But in this assent Scatter such freedom as it may appear Our fortunes be our own: and that no eye Of jealousy or parsimonious thrift Can bound our humour. Let's call up the drawer.

Bring us here pistachio nuts, Strengthening oringo roots. Quince, peach, and preserv'd apricock, With the stones pendant to't. With such incentive and salacious cates, As quicken hours, and sharpen appetite.

DRAW. You shall, you shall, madam;--on my life, these be the ladies of the New Dress; they'll never be satisfied.

FLO. 'Tis high meridian! we've lost the time Of our appointed treatment.

CAR. Let's contrive Some neat evasion covertly disguis'd To bear the face of truth.

SAL. It would do well, Let's mould it as we go unto the garden.

MOR. 'Twere vain to call; they're long ere this dismiss'd.

PAL. And with incens'd spirits; which t' allay Were a receipt worth purchase.

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