Love Tricks, or, The School Of Complement - Act III
ACT III. SCENE I.
A Room in Rufaldo's House .
Enter RUFALDO .
Ruf. 'Tis now early day: fie, what a long night hath this been! the sun went drunk to bed the last night, and could not see to rise this morning. I could hardly wink, I am sure, love kept me waking; and the expectation of this my wedding-day did so caper in my brains, I thought of nothing but dancing the Shaking of the sheets with my sweetheart. It is certain I am young, every body now tells me so, it did appear by Selina's consenting so soon to love; for when I had but broke the ice of my affection, she fell over head and ears in love with me. Was ever man so happy as I am? I do feel, I do feel my years fall off, as the rain from a man that comes dropping in; I do feel myself every day grow younger and younger still. let me see, an hundred years hence, if I live to it, I shall be new out of my teens, and running into years of discretion again. Well, I will now to master Cornelio's, and bid them good morrow with a noise of musicians; and to see, at the very talking of music, how my heart leaps and dances at my wedding already! I have bespoke the parson to marry us, and have promised [him] a double fee for expedition. O, now I am so proud of my joy, my feet do not know what ground they stand on.
SCENE II.
The Country.
Enter JENKIN and JOCARELLO .
Jen. Jenkin has risen very early this mornings, and been in studies and contemplations to make ditties and ferses upon her mistress' beauties and pulchritudes, but the devil's sure in these poetries; they call it furies and raptures, look you, but Jenkin's pate is almost mad, and yet her cannot, awl her inclinations, meet with these furies and raptures.
Enter SELINA in shepherd's weeds .
Sel. Thus far I have past without discovery: the morning is auspicious to my flight. Selina, what an alteration hath a day made in thee, that, to prevent thy so desired marriage, thou art thus lost in a masculine habit, and dost fly him, thou didst so much love, aged Rufaldo! In what a lethargy wert thou fallen, Selina!
Jen. Jocarello, does her not name Selina? 'tis no very good manners to make interruptions; her will hear more, look you.
Sel. Whither had reason so withdrawn itself,
I could not make distinction of a man,
From such a heap of age, aches, and rheum?
Sure I was mad; and [it] doth encrease my fury,
To think with what a violence I ran
To embrace such rottenness. O, my guilty soul
Doth feel the punishment of the injury
I did to Infortunio of late;
Of whom as I despair, so shall the world,
Ever to know again hapless Selina.
This is the morn the sacred rites should tie
Me to Rufaldo, ripe in expectation;
But, like Ixion, he shall grasp a cloud,
My empty clothes at home: Selina thus
Is turn'd a shepherd, and will try her fortune;
Hard by the shepherds have their shady dwellings,
There let Selina end her hapless days.
Father and all farewell! thus, as Felice,
My other sister, I'll wear out my life,
Far from your knowledge: sacred Love commands,
Revenge and justice for my cruelty,
And reason, now awak'd, shall lead me to it.
Thus I am safe; I go to find out that
Will meet me every where, a just sad fate.
Jen. Pages, have her seen treams and apparitions? hark you, was Selina turn'd shepherdess, pray you?
Joc. Either we dream, or this was Selina, your mistress, that is turn'd into breeches, and become a shepherd: The case is altered .
Jen. What a tevil is in the matters and businesses, pray you? Cases! never was known such cases and alterations in awl her life; womans never wear preeches in Wales; 'tis not possible, we are awl in treams and visions, very treams and visions.
Joc. Sure we are all awak'd, sir, and it was Selina; did she not say she would obscure herself from her father's knowledge, and live among the shepherds hard by?
Jen. It may be, but it is very impossible.
SCENE III.
A Room in Cornelio's House .
Enter CORNELIO , RUFALDO , ANTONIO , and HILARIA .
Cor. I am amaz'd; when was she seen?
Ant. Not to-day, sir; I have search'd her chamber, and almost turn'd it out o' the window, but no Selina.
Ruf. It is very strange; is not your man Gorgon come back?
Cor. What should this mean? it is a strange absence, on the wedding day too.
Ruf. That angers me most, sir.
Cor. My heart misgives me; some fatal accident, upon my life, is happened to her.
Enter a Servant.
Ruf. Hast thou happy news?
Ser. I have travelled all the town over, and can meet no intelligence of her.
Cor. Be dumb, night-raven; she is lost, she's lost!
The Fates, sure, make conspiracy to take
My daughters from me: one I lost because
I would not give her, and I have repented
Full justice for it; and am I so unhappy
To lose Selina too? but I'll not sleep
Until I find her, either alive or dead.
Rufaldo, you have interest in this sorrow,
Join in the inquisition. — Oh my girl,
Selina!
Ruf. Have I been young for this? If I find her not, I will run, — I will run, I will run, mad!
Ant. No, more; I know where her clothes be: if it take, applaud my invention. I have cozened my own father before now, and I will try new conclusions; but I must have thy assistance and secrecy: if my sister have a conceit of mirth to put upon us, I may chance put her to prove herself Selina, or remove her with a habeas corpus .
SCENE IV.
A Street .
Enter JENKIN and JOCARELLO .
Jen. Jocarellos, awl is true, Selina is gone in shepherd's vestiments to the woods and forests; but her will make travels and ambulations after her. Never was sentilman i' the world love as Jenkin now, to make journeys and peregrinations for a womans, look you: but if her find her, as know her very well, her will there make awl sure works and performances, warrant you. Pages here is moneys, pray you make provisions of breads and victuals too; know uds are very bare places, and Jenkin was always have cud stomacks and appetites, look you; pray you, do, pray you, do.
SCENE V.
Gasparo's Lodgings .
(THE COMPLEMENT-SCHOOL.)
Enter GASPARO habited punctually, as Master of the School, and Gorgon , as his Usher .
Gasp. Be the hangings up, Curculio, and all the chairs and stools put into method? the day is old, methinks; time runs fast upon the minute brings my disciples. Do my bills of Complements still relish, Curculio? do they please the palate, ha?
Gorg. My most ingenious and noble criticotaster, bravely. Bills! pills you should say, not faced, but lined with gold; they swallow them greedily, and still flock to them, and conglomerate, my son and heir of the Muses: a proclamation is as quiet as the poor-man's box, no man looks after it; not a ballad-monger has any audience: but happy is the man that rides first post to your papers, and cries Admirable! your old men look upon them with their spectacles, as they would eye an Obligation within a minute of forfeiture.
Gasp. Thou hast eaten up the Furies already, and speakest all buskins: but close, walk in the clouds; I have not heard of any mountebank of wit durst ever attempt to set up shop o' the trade yet: but whist! — Usher, take your place.
Enter BUBULCUS .
Gor. 'Sfoot, 'tis Bubulous.
Bub. This is the Complement-school?
Gorg. Three cuts and a half, hey! [ He dances .] I give you, sir, generous salutation, and wish a fair morn descend upon you: thrice noble spirit, welcome; does your worship desire to be sprinkled with the drops of Helicon, to gather the pippins of Parnassus, and have your forehead filletted with Apollinean bays, or laurel?
Bub. Troth, sir, I do not know how to conster what you say; although I know it be Latin, sir: the cause of my coming to you, is to let you understand, that here is a Complement-School, and I have a great desire to be taught some of your figaries and brave words; I do mean to pay for it soundly too, sir; I thank my stars, as they say, I have ready money about me.
Gorg. You shall be verberated, and reverberated, my exact piece of stolidity. Please you draw near; there is the star of eloquence, under whom I am an hypodidascal, in English, his usher.
Bub. A gentleman-usher, at least.
Gorg. Approach without fear. — Here is a pupil, sir, desires to suck the honey of your eloquence, he is a gentleman in folio.
Gasp. Your accession is grateful, my most gentle lump of insipience: what complement doth arride the palate of your generosity?
Bub. What says he, pray, in English?
Gorg. He asks what kind of verbosity you would be practised in. Because I perceive you are raw, I will descend to your capacity: he asks what complement you would learn.
Bub. Why, look you, sir, I would have two kinds of complements: for, sir, I am in love, and I am in hate.
Gasp. How! in love and hate too?
Bub. Yes; I am in love with a wench, and would have a delicate speech for her; and I am in hate with a gentleman, a young animal, and I would kill him now without danger of the law. To tell you true, he did abuse me in the presence of my sweetheart, and did (saving this good company) kiss my backside.
Gorg. How!
Bub. But it was with his foot, sir: now, in regard I have not the heart to kill him with my sword, I would cut him in pieces, and murder him with mouth-guns. Look you, sir, here's money, please yourself: but, I pray you, give me a powdering speech, for I would blow him up; I beseech you, if ever you put gall into your ink, make it a bitter speech.
Gasp. Sir, I will draw you a sublime speech, shall conjure him.
Bub. Pray do, for he has a great spirit in him.
Gasp. Usher, in the mean time entertain him with some copy of amorous complement.
Gorg. There is an usher's fee belongs to my place.
Bub. Here's gold for your fee, I received it for good fee-simple, I am sure.
Gorg. Simple, I am sure. [ Aside. ] — So, sir, look you, I should teach you to make a leg first; but these postures anon.
Resplendent mistress, for thy face doth far
Excel all other, like a blazing star
We mortals wonder at, vouchsafe to cast,
Out of those sparkling diamond eyes thou hast,
A sacred influence on thy vowed creature,
That is confounded with thy form and feature.
Bub. Admirable!
Gorg. Goddess of Cyprus — —
Bub. Stay; I do not like that word cyprus, for she'll think I mean to make hatbands of her: cannot you call her taffata goddess? or, if you go to stuff, cloth of gold were richer.
Gorg. Oh, there's a conceit; Cyprus is the emblem of mourning, and here by Cyprus you declare how much you pine and mourn after her, sir.
Bub. Very good; pray you, go on.
Gorg. Goddess of Cyprus, Venus is a slut .
Bub. Stay; who do I call slut now? the goddess of Cyprus, Venus, or my love?
Gorg. You do tell the goddess that Venus is a slut.
Bub. I do so.
Gorg. For thou art Venus fair, and she is not.
Bub. How is she Venus fair then, when I call her slut to her face?
Gorg. No, sir, your love is Venus fair, and she is not:
That makes plain the other, that she is a slut.
— O that I were a flea upon thy lip!
There would I suck for ever, and not skip.
Bub. Suck?
Gorg. That is, you would not bite her by the lip. —
Or, if you think I there too high am placed,
I'll be content to suck below thy waist.
Bub. Which side she please.
Gorg. Thy foot I'd willing kiss, but that I know
Thou wouldst not have thy servant stoop so low. —
She will give you leave to kiss higher.
Oh, speak thou wilt be mine; and I will be
The truest worm e'er trod on shoe to thee.
Bub. Worm?
Gorg. By worm you do insinuate and wriggle yourself into her affection; and she by shoe will conceive you desire the length of her foot. — How do you like it, sir?
Bub. I would not for forty pounds but I had come to complement: why, I shall be able in a small time to put down a reasonable gentlewoman.
Gorg. Oh, any ordinary lady; you must get it without book. — Now, to make your legs.
Bub. I have two made to my hands.
Gorg. Oh, by no means; your legs are made to your feet.
Enter DELIA .
Gasp. Beauty and graces dwell upon the face Of my disciple, Delia.
Del. Muses inspire you! What! at study?
Gasp. Negociating a little with the Muses.
Gorg. See me salute her. —
As many happinesses wait on Delia,
As beams shoot from the sun this pleasant morn!
Del. As many thanks requite you, as that sun Is old in minutes since the day begun!
Bub. What's she, Curculio?
Gorg. Her mistress's best moveable, a chambermaid.
Bub. She is an early riser: at school so soon?
Gorg. She is an early riser; and yet, sometimes, as soon down as up; she cannot be quiet for servingmen: 'tis her hour between eight o'clock and her mistress' rising, to come to discipline.
Bub. 'Tis a pretty smug wench; is her name Delia? she has a pretty name, too.
Gorg. Oh, sir, all her credit is in her good name: it was Diana's, the goddess of chastity, and therefore, when she marries, she may cuckold her husband by privilege; for Diana gave horns to Actaeon.
Enter a Servingman.
Ser. Where's master Criticotaster?
Gasp. Who's that?
Ser. Sir, my master has sent you a little gold; he desires you to send him speech he should speak at sessions in the country, he's now riding down.
Gasp. [examining his ledger.] Sir Valentine Wantbrain, that has never a clerk?
Ser. The same, sir.
Gasp. Newly put into commission for the peace; being puisne, it falls to him to give the charge . I have drawn it; let me see, In comitatu, &c . Here, read it, Curculio; he may the better instruct his master; a touch, a touch!
Gorg. Good men of the jury, for this session I will not implicate you with ambages and circumstances; I am unwilling to confound your little wits with affected divisions of my narration, into quis, quid, quomodo, and quandos: I will neither utter by gross, nor part my speech into a dozen of long points, knotted often in the middle, and untagged in the end: you are to present malefactors, whereof you are the chief — — reformers; and seeing you stand ready for your charge, I will give fire to this great piece of service, and send you all off with a powder, that in any case we may go to dinner betimes . —
Gasp. So! 'tis enough: bear my respects to your master; tell him 'tis a speech will do him credit; bid him learn it perfectly without book.
Gorg. And, do you hear? if he chance to be at a nonplus, he may help himself with his beard and handkerchief; or it will be a good posture for his hand now and then to be fumbling with his band-strings. — Farewell.
Enter mistress MEDULLA and a Servant .
Gasp. Mistress Medulla, the sun of honour shine upon your hopes, till it sublime you to a ladyship! I will attend you presently.
Med. Sirrah, bid your fellow make ready the caroch, and attend me here about an hour hence; I will ride home.
Bub. What gentlewoman is that?
Gorg. An old country gentlewoman, that hath buried her husband lately, and comes up to be a lady; for she swears she will not marry any more gentleman: she is fallen out with a justice of peace's wife in the country, and she will have a knight, though she pay for his horse-hire, to spite her neighbours.
Gasp. A word with you, sir.
Bub. Your friend and master Bubulcus. Have you done, sir?
Gasp. [reading.] The Cupidinian fires burn in my breast ,
And like the oven Ætna I am full
Of squibs and crackers.
Bub. This will powder him.
Gorg. Lady, wounded by your beauty, I will acknowledge mercy if you kill me not: yet rather murder me, than vulnerate still your creature, unless you mean to medicine where you have hurt; and I implore no better remedy than I may derive from the instrument wherewith you pierced me, like Achilles' spear, your eye having shot lightning into my breast, hath power, with a smile, to fetch out the consuming fire, and yet leave my heart inflamed.
Del. Sir, although where I am not guilty of offence, I might deny justly to descend to a satisfaction, yet, rather than I would be counted a murderer, I would study to preserve so sweet a model as yourself; and since you desire my eye, which enflamed you, should, with the virtue of a gracious smile, make you happy in your fire, it shall shine as you would have it, and disclaim that beam shall shine upon another object.
Gorg. So; very well: this is your cunning lesson.
Gasp. Some strangers, Curculio!
Gorg. Sir, the country comes in upon us.
Enter Countryman and OAF .
Count. Is not here a Complement-school?
Gasp. A school of generous education, sir.
Count. I have brought my son to be a scholar; I do mean to make him a courtier; I have an offer of five or six offices for my money, and I would have him first taught to speak.
Bub. He is a great child; cannot he speak yet?
Gasp. In what kind of complement, please you, venerable sir, to be edoctrinated? — But we will withdraw.
Enter a Gentleman.
Gent. Come, for another lesson, my brave Mars,
Now I am fit to quarrel with the stars,
And catch at Jove.
Bub. What's he?
Gorg. Orlando Furioso.
Gent. By the blood-stain'd falchion of Mavors, I will carbonado thee; keep off! or in my fury I will cut thee into atoms, and blow thee about the world.
Bub. I hope he does but complement?
Gent. I will outlabour Jove-born Hercules ,
And in a greater fury ransack hell.
Tear from the sisters their contorted curls,
And rack the Destinies on Ixion's wheel;
Brain Proserpine with Sisiph's rolling stone,
And in a brazen caldron, choak'd with lead,
Boil Minos, Eacus, and Radamant;
Throw Pluto headlong into moorish fens,
And sooty regions;
Dam up Cocytus with tormented souls,
And batter down the brazen gates of hell;
Make the infernal, three-chapt band-dog roar.
Cram Tantalus with apples, lash the fiends
With whips of snakes and poison'd scorpions;
Snatch chain'd Prometheus from the vulture's maw,
And feed him with her liver; make old Charon
Waft back again the souls, or buffet him
With his own oars to death.
Gorg. So, so; 'tis well: you shall take forth a new lesson, sir; sit down and breathe.
Bub. 'Twas a devilish good speech.
Enter INGENIOLO , behind .
Ing. Oh, why did nature make thee fair and cruel?
Bub. What spruce fellow's this?
Gorg. He is an hundred and fifty pounds a year in potentia , a yeoman's son, and a justice of peace's clerk; he is in love with a farmer's daughter, and thus he speaks his passion in blank verse.
Ing. Thou art some goddess, that to amaze the earth
With thy celestial presence, hast put on
The habit of a mortal; gods sometimes
Would visit country houses, and gild o'er
A sublunary habitation
With glory of their presence, and make heav'n
Descend into an hermitage. Sure thy father
Was Maia's son, disguis'd in shepherd's weeds,
And thou dost come from Jove; no marvel then
We swains do wonder at thee, and adore.
Venus herself, the queen of Cytheron,
When she is riding through the milky way,
Drawn with white doves, is but a blowze, and must,
When thou appearest, leave her bird-drawn coach,
And give the reins to thee, and trudge afoot
Along the heavenly plains, paved with stars,
In duty of thy excellence; while the gods,
Looking amazed from their crystal windows,
Wonder what new-come deity doth call
Them to thy adoration.
Bub. O, heavenly farmer's daughter!
Gorg. I'll call him in. — Ingeniolo!
Ing. [ coming forward. ] Your servant, sir, — [ to Med. ] Lady, I kiss your hand, and reverence the antiquity of your vestment. — Delia, Fortune let fall her riches on thy head, that thou mayst fill thy apron. — I am your humble observicer, and wish you all cumulations of prosperity.
Bub. Sir, I desire to suck below your waist .
Ing. I do evaculate myself to be your shadows, my generous condisciples.
Gorg. This is scholar-like.
Bub. He's one of the head form, I warrant?
Re-enter GASPARO , Countryman, and O AF .
Gasp. Sir, I receive your son, and will wind up his ingeny, fear it not; but, first, he must be under my usher, who must teach him the postures of his body, how to make legs and cringes, and then he shall be advanced to a higher class. — Curculio, lick him, with your method, into some proportion; take off the roughness of his behaviour, and then give him the principles of salutation.
Count. La' you there, boy! he will teach you the principles of saltation. — Well, good-morrow, sir; I'll leave my jewel.
Gorg. Your jewel may have the grace to be hang'd one day.
Enter JENKIN .
Jen. Bless you, sentlemen awl, and your studies and contemplations: is here a School of Complements, pray you?
Gasp. A place of generous breeding.
Jen. Generous preeding? hark you, her name was Jenkin, a good sentleman, 'tis known, her take no pleasures and delectations in urds and phrases of rhetricks; Welsemen have awl hearts and fidelities, mark you: her was going along pout creat business, but casting her eyes and visions upon your pills, and significations of your skills and professions, look you, her come in, to see the fashions and manners of your exercises; and yet, if your urships has any madrigals and pastoral canticles, look you; for in truths and verities was going now to the uods and forest, and mean to turn shepherds, goddillings; her will give you good payments of awl your inventions, and muses, pray you now.
Gasp. Amorous pastorals? I can furnish you, venerable sir.
Turn, Amaryllis, to thy swain,
Thy Damon calls thee back again;
Here is a pretty arbour by,
Where Apollo cannot pry,
Here let's sit, and while I play,
Sing to my pipe a roundelay.
How like you it, sir?
Jen. Roundelays; very good; here is moneys and considerations, look you.
Gorg. We acknowledge your bounty, my Tenth Worthy.
Gasp. [ to Medulla. ] So, mistress, I have trespass'd on your patience; now I will take occasion by the fore-lock. You can say your lecture: have you your handkercher ready, that when a suitor comes, you may put him off with wiping your eyes, as if tears stood in them ever since your husband was buried? Well, suppose I have had access to your chamber, I begin. — — Lady, think it not strange, if love, which is active in my bosom, force me to turn petitioner, that I may be reckoned amongst your servants; all my ambition, sweetest, is to be made happy in your affection, which I will study to deserve in my utmost possibilities .
Med. Alas! alas! I had a husband .
Gasp. Very well counterfeited. — — Nay, weep not; those eyes were made to shine, not waste with dew: if it be for the remembrance of him you have lost, recover him again, by placing your good opinion on a man shall sweat to do you services .
Med. It doth not, sir, become our modesty
To talk of love so soon; you will renew
My passion for his loss, and draw down tears
Afresh upon his hearse: you do not well
T' oppress a widow thus. I pray, sir, leave me;
At least I will enjoin you, if you stay,
To speak no more of love: it is unwelcome. —
What, am I perfect?
Gasp. So, 'twas very well; at the next lesson you shall learn to be more cunning.
Gorg. Wilt please you hear the novice?
Gasp. Good boy, speak out.
Oaf. God save you, sir; felicities be accumulated upon you, sir; I thank you, generous sir: you oblige me to be your servant, sir, in all my — p — o — s — possibility, sir: I honour your remembrance, sir, and shall be proud to do you my observance, sir, most noble sir .
Gasp. Very hopeful. — Now, a repetition all together; the more the merrier.
Enter INFORTUNIO .
Inf. What! at barlev-break? which couple are in hell? Are not you Helen, whose insatiate lust ruin'd fair Ilium? and you, sir, Paris with a golden nose? Hark you, Rufaldo is married to Selina.
Bub. Who? — that's my father-in-law.
Inf. How, your father? look, he has cloven feet; I am glad I have found you; what are you in hell for?
Gasp. Insinuate to them all, for their own safeties, he's desperate mad; bid none stir hence.
Inf. Hey, how came you all thus damn'd?
Jen. Damn'd! who's damn'd? is Jenkin damn'd?
Gasp. I beseech you, sir, to maintain the credit of my school: I shall be undone else; humour him a little.
Jen. Will you have her be damn'd? when hear you, pray, a Welshman was damn'd? of all things in the urld, her cannot abide to be damn'd.
Gorg. See, if you can roar him away.
Gent. Keep off! I am Hercules, son of Alcmena, Compress'd by Jove, I'll carbonado thee.
Inf. How! art thou Hercules?
Lie there, usurper of Alcides' name,
Bold Centaur: so, he's dead! by this I prove
I am Jove-born.
Jen. Well, for your credits and reputations, her care not to be damn'd for companies and fellowships, look you. Has he knock'd him down? would he had knock'd Jenkin down.
Inf. Now, on with your relations,
And tell me all the stories of your fortunes.
'Tis I am Hercules, sent to free you all. —
What are you damn'd for? In this club behold
All your releasements. — What are you?
Gorg. Stand in order, and be damn'd.
Gasp. I am the conscience of an usurer,
Who have been damn'd these two and twenty years
For lending money gratis.
Inf. How! a usurer? why didst not
Corrupt the devil to fetch thy soul away?
He'll take a bribe for lending money gratis.
Gasp. Yes, sir, for thanks. I took no interest; for, at the lending of each hundred pound, they brought me home some twenty or thirty thanks: — indeed 'twas paid in gold.
Inf. Oh, golden thanks! Well, go to, I'll release you,
Upon condition you shall build an hospital,
And die a beggar. — What are you?
Gorg. The soul of a watchman.
Inf. How came you damn'd? could you not watch the devil?
Gorg. He took me napping on midsummer-eve, and I never dreamt on him.
Inf. Your wife had given you opium over night.
Gorg. No, sir, I had watch'd three nights before; and because I would not wink at two or three drunkards as they went reeling home at twelve o'clock at night, the devil owed me a spite.
Inf. Well, you shall be 'prentice to an alchemist, and watch his stills night by night, nor sleep till he get the philosopher's stone. — What are you?
Del. Sir, I am a chambermaid.
Inf. What are you damn'd for?
Del. Not for revealing my mistress' secrets, for I kept them better than my own; but keeping my maidenhead till it was stale, I am condemn'd to lead apes in hell.
Inf. Alas, poor wench! upon condition you will be wise hereafter, and not refuse gentlemen's proffers, learn pride every day, and painting, bestow a courtesy now and then upon the apparitor to keep counsel, I release you; take your apes and monkies away with you, and bestow them on gentlewomen, and ladies that want play-fellows. — What are you?
Ing. I am an under-sheriff, sir; damn'd because I told the debtors writs were out against them, brought them to composition without arrests, favoured poor men for a whole year together, was very good in my office, gave up a just account at the year's end, and broke.
Inf. Oh, miracle! an honest man! thou shalt be churchwarden to a parish, draw the presentments, and keep the poor men's box for seven years together: 'tis pity but thou shouldst have fifty wives, to propagate honest generation. — What are you?
Med. A justice's wife in the country, sir.
Inf. And who drew your mittimus hither? what are you damn'd for?
Med. For refusing satin gowns and velvet peticoats, turning back capons at Christmas and sessions-times, and making much of one of my husband's servants, merely for his honesty and good service towards me.
Inf. 'Tis injustice; you shall bury your husband quickly, wear some blacks awhile for fashion sake, and within a month be married to his clerk, unless you will be divided among the servingmen. — What are you?
Oaf. A younger brother, sir; born at the latter end of the week, and wane of the moon; put into the world to seek my own fortune; got a great estate of wealth by gaming and wenching, and so purchas'd unhappily this state of damnation you see me in.
Infor. Came you in it by purchase? then you do not claim it by your father's interest as an heir: Well, I will ease you of the estate, because it is litigious, and you shall make presently a bargain and sale of it to a scrivener, that shall buy it of you, and pay both his ears down upon the nail for it. — What are you?
Bub. I am a horse-courser.
Infor. And couldst not thou outride the devil?
Bub. I had not the grace to mend my pace, I was an honest horse-courser, and suffered every fool to ride me: I knew not what belonged to horse-play let; the world kick at me, I never winced: all that I am damn'd for, is, that desiring to thrive in the world, and to have good luck to horse-flesh, I ambled to the bed of a parson's wife that was coltish once, and gave her husband a horse for it in good fashion. He never gave me God-a-mercy for it; indeed it proved afterwards to have the yellows.
Infor. There was some colour for it: well, since your occupation is foundered, you shall trot every day afoot, and walk a knave in the horse-fair. — What are you?
Jen. Her have no mind at all to be damn'd, becar her will fight with her and kill awl the devils in hell, diggon.
Gorg. 'Sfoot! here is more ado to get one Welshman damn'd, than a whole nation. — Sir, it is but in jest.
Jen. In jests! is it in jests? well, look you, her will be contented to be damn'd in jests and merriments for you.
Infor. You will tell me what you are damn'd for?
Jen. And her be so hot, was get some bodies else to be damn'd for Jenkin; her will tell her in patiences, look you, her was damn'd for her valour, and ridding the urld of monsters, look you, dragons with seven heads, and serpents with tails a mile long, pray you.
Infor. Oh, let me embrace thee, Worthy, in my arms,
I'll charm the Destinies for their bold attempt;
For cutting off thy thread, thou shalt cut their throats,
And be install'd Lord in Elysium.
Oh let me hug thee, Owen Glandower.
Jen. Owen Glandower was her cousin, pray you
Infor. Go your ways all: stay, take hence Prometheus, and bury him. If you come into hell again, there is no releasement.
Jen. So farewell, sentlemen; now her mean to make travels and peregrinations, to the uds and plains, look you, very fast. — Good speed to awl.
Gorg. We thank thee, jovial Hercules.
Gasp. Live long, thou king of hell. So, so, well done of all sides: here our school breaks up. I might have run mad, like this poor gentleman, had I not taken off the edge of melancholy.
— — O love, thou art a madness
Drawing our souls with joy to kill with sadness.
Infor. So, so; poor souls, how glad they are of liberty!
This is a hot house; I do scorch and broil:
I'll seek the Elysian fields out, and die there.
A Room in Rufaldo's House .
Enter RUFALDO .
Ruf. 'Tis now early day: fie, what a long night hath this been! the sun went drunk to bed the last night, and could not see to rise this morning. I could hardly wink, I am sure, love kept me waking; and the expectation of this my wedding-day did so caper in my brains, I thought of nothing but dancing the Shaking of the sheets with my sweetheart. It is certain I am young, every body now tells me so, it did appear by Selina's consenting so soon to love; for when I had but broke the ice of my affection, she fell over head and ears in love with me. Was ever man so happy as I am? I do feel, I do feel my years fall off, as the rain from a man that comes dropping in; I do feel myself every day grow younger and younger still. let me see, an hundred years hence, if I live to it, I shall be new out of my teens, and running into years of discretion again. Well, I will now to master Cornelio's, and bid them good morrow with a noise of musicians; and to see, at the very talking of music, how my heart leaps and dances at my wedding already! I have bespoke the parson to marry us, and have promised [him] a double fee for expedition. O, now I am so proud of my joy, my feet do not know what ground they stand on.
SCENE II.
The Country.
Enter JENKIN and JOCARELLO .
Jen. Jenkin has risen very early this mornings, and been in studies and contemplations to make ditties and ferses upon her mistress' beauties and pulchritudes, but the devil's sure in these poetries; they call it furies and raptures, look you, but Jenkin's pate is almost mad, and yet her cannot, awl her inclinations, meet with these furies and raptures.
Enter SELINA in shepherd's weeds .
Sel. Thus far I have past without discovery: the morning is auspicious to my flight. Selina, what an alteration hath a day made in thee, that, to prevent thy so desired marriage, thou art thus lost in a masculine habit, and dost fly him, thou didst so much love, aged Rufaldo! In what a lethargy wert thou fallen, Selina!
Jen. Jocarello, does her not name Selina? 'tis no very good manners to make interruptions; her will hear more, look you.
Sel. Whither had reason so withdrawn itself,
I could not make distinction of a man,
From such a heap of age, aches, and rheum?
Sure I was mad; and [it] doth encrease my fury,
To think with what a violence I ran
To embrace such rottenness. O, my guilty soul
Doth feel the punishment of the injury
I did to Infortunio of late;
Of whom as I despair, so shall the world,
Ever to know again hapless Selina.
This is the morn the sacred rites should tie
Me to Rufaldo, ripe in expectation;
But, like Ixion, he shall grasp a cloud,
My empty clothes at home: Selina thus
Is turn'd a shepherd, and will try her fortune;
Hard by the shepherds have their shady dwellings,
There let Selina end her hapless days.
Father and all farewell! thus, as Felice,
My other sister, I'll wear out my life,
Far from your knowledge: sacred Love commands,
Revenge and justice for my cruelty,
And reason, now awak'd, shall lead me to it.
Thus I am safe; I go to find out that
Will meet me every where, a just sad fate.
Jen. Pages, have her seen treams and apparitions? hark you, was Selina turn'd shepherdess, pray you?
Joc. Either we dream, or this was Selina, your mistress, that is turn'd into breeches, and become a shepherd: The case is altered .
Jen. What a tevil is in the matters and businesses, pray you? Cases! never was known such cases and alterations in awl her life; womans never wear preeches in Wales; 'tis not possible, we are awl in treams and visions, very treams and visions.
Joc. Sure we are all awak'd, sir, and it was Selina; did she not say she would obscure herself from her father's knowledge, and live among the shepherds hard by?
Jen. It may be, but it is very impossible.
SCENE III.
A Room in Cornelio's House .
Enter CORNELIO , RUFALDO , ANTONIO , and HILARIA .
Cor. I am amaz'd; when was she seen?
Ant. Not to-day, sir; I have search'd her chamber, and almost turn'd it out o' the window, but no Selina.
Ruf. It is very strange; is not your man Gorgon come back?
Cor. What should this mean? it is a strange absence, on the wedding day too.
Ruf. That angers me most, sir.
Cor. My heart misgives me; some fatal accident, upon my life, is happened to her.
Enter a Servant.
Ruf. Hast thou happy news?
Ser. I have travelled all the town over, and can meet no intelligence of her.
Cor. Be dumb, night-raven; she is lost, she's lost!
The Fates, sure, make conspiracy to take
My daughters from me: one I lost because
I would not give her, and I have repented
Full justice for it; and am I so unhappy
To lose Selina too? but I'll not sleep
Until I find her, either alive or dead.
Rufaldo, you have interest in this sorrow,
Join in the inquisition. — Oh my girl,
Selina!
Ruf. Have I been young for this? If I find her not, I will run, — I will run, I will run, mad!
Ant. No, more; I know where her clothes be: if it take, applaud my invention. I have cozened my own father before now, and I will try new conclusions; but I must have thy assistance and secrecy: if my sister have a conceit of mirth to put upon us, I may chance put her to prove herself Selina, or remove her with a habeas corpus .
SCENE IV.
A Street .
Enter JENKIN and JOCARELLO .
Jen. Jocarellos, awl is true, Selina is gone in shepherd's vestiments to the woods and forests; but her will make travels and ambulations after her. Never was sentilman i' the world love as Jenkin now, to make journeys and peregrinations for a womans, look you: but if her find her, as know her very well, her will there make awl sure works and performances, warrant you. Pages here is moneys, pray you make provisions of breads and victuals too; know uds are very bare places, and Jenkin was always have cud stomacks and appetites, look you; pray you, do, pray you, do.
SCENE V.
Gasparo's Lodgings .
(THE COMPLEMENT-SCHOOL.)
Enter GASPARO habited punctually, as Master of the School, and Gorgon , as his Usher .
Gasp. Be the hangings up, Curculio, and all the chairs and stools put into method? the day is old, methinks; time runs fast upon the minute brings my disciples. Do my bills of Complements still relish, Curculio? do they please the palate, ha?
Gorg. My most ingenious and noble criticotaster, bravely. Bills! pills you should say, not faced, but lined with gold; they swallow them greedily, and still flock to them, and conglomerate, my son and heir of the Muses: a proclamation is as quiet as the poor-man's box, no man looks after it; not a ballad-monger has any audience: but happy is the man that rides first post to your papers, and cries Admirable! your old men look upon them with their spectacles, as they would eye an Obligation within a minute of forfeiture.
Gasp. Thou hast eaten up the Furies already, and speakest all buskins: but close, walk in the clouds; I have not heard of any mountebank of wit durst ever attempt to set up shop o' the trade yet: but whist! — Usher, take your place.
Enter BUBULCUS .
Gor. 'Sfoot, 'tis Bubulous.
Bub. This is the Complement-school?
Gorg. Three cuts and a half, hey! [ He dances .] I give you, sir, generous salutation, and wish a fair morn descend upon you: thrice noble spirit, welcome; does your worship desire to be sprinkled with the drops of Helicon, to gather the pippins of Parnassus, and have your forehead filletted with Apollinean bays, or laurel?
Bub. Troth, sir, I do not know how to conster what you say; although I know it be Latin, sir: the cause of my coming to you, is to let you understand, that here is a Complement-School, and I have a great desire to be taught some of your figaries and brave words; I do mean to pay for it soundly too, sir; I thank my stars, as they say, I have ready money about me.
Gorg. You shall be verberated, and reverberated, my exact piece of stolidity. Please you draw near; there is the star of eloquence, under whom I am an hypodidascal, in English, his usher.
Bub. A gentleman-usher, at least.
Gorg. Approach without fear. — Here is a pupil, sir, desires to suck the honey of your eloquence, he is a gentleman in folio.
Gasp. Your accession is grateful, my most gentle lump of insipience: what complement doth arride the palate of your generosity?
Bub. What says he, pray, in English?
Gorg. He asks what kind of verbosity you would be practised in. Because I perceive you are raw, I will descend to your capacity: he asks what complement you would learn.
Bub. Why, look you, sir, I would have two kinds of complements: for, sir, I am in love, and I am in hate.
Gasp. How! in love and hate too?
Bub. Yes; I am in love with a wench, and would have a delicate speech for her; and I am in hate with a gentleman, a young animal, and I would kill him now without danger of the law. To tell you true, he did abuse me in the presence of my sweetheart, and did (saving this good company) kiss my backside.
Gorg. How!
Bub. But it was with his foot, sir: now, in regard I have not the heart to kill him with my sword, I would cut him in pieces, and murder him with mouth-guns. Look you, sir, here's money, please yourself: but, I pray you, give me a powdering speech, for I would blow him up; I beseech you, if ever you put gall into your ink, make it a bitter speech.
Gasp. Sir, I will draw you a sublime speech, shall conjure him.
Bub. Pray do, for he has a great spirit in him.
Gasp. Usher, in the mean time entertain him with some copy of amorous complement.
Gorg. There is an usher's fee belongs to my place.
Bub. Here's gold for your fee, I received it for good fee-simple, I am sure.
Gorg. Simple, I am sure. [ Aside. ] — So, sir, look you, I should teach you to make a leg first; but these postures anon.
Resplendent mistress, for thy face doth far
Excel all other, like a blazing star
We mortals wonder at, vouchsafe to cast,
Out of those sparkling diamond eyes thou hast,
A sacred influence on thy vowed creature,
That is confounded with thy form and feature.
Bub. Admirable!
Gorg. Goddess of Cyprus — —
Bub. Stay; I do not like that word cyprus, for she'll think I mean to make hatbands of her: cannot you call her taffata goddess? or, if you go to stuff, cloth of gold were richer.
Gorg. Oh, there's a conceit; Cyprus is the emblem of mourning, and here by Cyprus you declare how much you pine and mourn after her, sir.
Bub. Very good; pray you, go on.
Gorg. Goddess of Cyprus, Venus is a slut .
Bub. Stay; who do I call slut now? the goddess of Cyprus, Venus, or my love?
Gorg. You do tell the goddess that Venus is a slut.
Bub. I do so.
Gorg. For thou art Venus fair, and she is not.
Bub. How is she Venus fair then, when I call her slut to her face?
Gorg. No, sir, your love is Venus fair, and she is not:
That makes plain the other, that she is a slut.
— O that I were a flea upon thy lip!
There would I suck for ever, and not skip.
Bub. Suck?
Gorg. That is, you would not bite her by the lip. —
Or, if you think I there too high am placed,
I'll be content to suck below thy waist.
Bub. Which side she please.
Gorg. Thy foot I'd willing kiss, but that I know
Thou wouldst not have thy servant stoop so low. —
She will give you leave to kiss higher.
Oh, speak thou wilt be mine; and I will be
The truest worm e'er trod on shoe to thee.
Bub. Worm?
Gorg. By worm you do insinuate and wriggle yourself into her affection; and she by shoe will conceive you desire the length of her foot. — How do you like it, sir?
Bub. I would not for forty pounds but I had come to complement: why, I shall be able in a small time to put down a reasonable gentlewoman.
Gorg. Oh, any ordinary lady; you must get it without book. — Now, to make your legs.
Bub. I have two made to my hands.
Gorg. Oh, by no means; your legs are made to your feet.
Enter DELIA .
Gasp. Beauty and graces dwell upon the face Of my disciple, Delia.
Del. Muses inspire you! What! at study?
Gasp. Negociating a little with the Muses.
Gorg. See me salute her. —
As many happinesses wait on Delia,
As beams shoot from the sun this pleasant morn!
Del. As many thanks requite you, as that sun Is old in minutes since the day begun!
Bub. What's she, Curculio?
Gorg. Her mistress's best moveable, a chambermaid.
Bub. She is an early riser: at school so soon?
Gorg. She is an early riser; and yet, sometimes, as soon down as up; she cannot be quiet for servingmen: 'tis her hour between eight o'clock and her mistress' rising, to come to discipline.
Bub. 'Tis a pretty smug wench; is her name Delia? she has a pretty name, too.
Gorg. Oh, sir, all her credit is in her good name: it was Diana's, the goddess of chastity, and therefore, when she marries, she may cuckold her husband by privilege; for Diana gave horns to Actaeon.
Enter a Servingman.
Ser. Where's master Criticotaster?
Gasp. Who's that?
Ser. Sir, my master has sent you a little gold; he desires you to send him speech he should speak at sessions in the country, he's now riding down.
Gasp. [examining his ledger.] Sir Valentine Wantbrain, that has never a clerk?
Ser. The same, sir.
Gasp. Newly put into commission for the peace; being puisne, it falls to him to give the charge . I have drawn it; let me see, In comitatu, &c . Here, read it, Curculio; he may the better instruct his master; a touch, a touch!
Gorg. Good men of the jury, for this session I will not implicate you with ambages and circumstances; I am unwilling to confound your little wits with affected divisions of my narration, into quis, quid, quomodo, and quandos: I will neither utter by gross, nor part my speech into a dozen of long points, knotted often in the middle, and untagged in the end: you are to present malefactors, whereof you are the chief — — reformers; and seeing you stand ready for your charge, I will give fire to this great piece of service, and send you all off with a powder, that in any case we may go to dinner betimes . —
Gasp. So! 'tis enough: bear my respects to your master; tell him 'tis a speech will do him credit; bid him learn it perfectly without book.
Gorg. And, do you hear? if he chance to be at a nonplus, he may help himself with his beard and handkerchief; or it will be a good posture for his hand now and then to be fumbling with his band-strings. — Farewell.
Enter mistress MEDULLA and a Servant .
Gasp. Mistress Medulla, the sun of honour shine upon your hopes, till it sublime you to a ladyship! I will attend you presently.
Med. Sirrah, bid your fellow make ready the caroch, and attend me here about an hour hence; I will ride home.
Bub. What gentlewoman is that?
Gorg. An old country gentlewoman, that hath buried her husband lately, and comes up to be a lady; for she swears she will not marry any more gentleman: she is fallen out with a justice of peace's wife in the country, and she will have a knight, though she pay for his horse-hire, to spite her neighbours.
Gasp. A word with you, sir.
Bub. Your friend and master Bubulcus. Have you done, sir?
Gasp. [reading.] The Cupidinian fires burn in my breast ,
And like the oven Ætna I am full
Of squibs and crackers.
Bub. This will powder him.
Gorg. Lady, wounded by your beauty, I will acknowledge mercy if you kill me not: yet rather murder me, than vulnerate still your creature, unless you mean to medicine where you have hurt; and I implore no better remedy than I may derive from the instrument wherewith you pierced me, like Achilles' spear, your eye having shot lightning into my breast, hath power, with a smile, to fetch out the consuming fire, and yet leave my heart inflamed.
Del. Sir, although where I am not guilty of offence, I might deny justly to descend to a satisfaction, yet, rather than I would be counted a murderer, I would study to preserve so sweet a model as yourself; and since you desire my eye, which enflamed you, should, with the virtue of a gracious smile, make you happy in your fire, it shall shine as you would have it, and disclaim that beam shall shine upon another object.
Gorg. So; very well: this is your cunning lesson.
Gasp. Some strangers, Curculio!
Gorg. Sir, the country comes in upon us.
Enter Countryman and OAF .
Count. Is not here a Complement-school?
Gasp. A school of generous education, sir.
Count. I have brought my son to be a scholar; I do mean to make him a courtier; I have an offer of five or six offices for my money, and I would have him first taught to speak.
Bub. He is a great child; cannot he speak yet?
Gasp. In what kind of complement, please you, venerable sir, to be edoctrinated? — But we will withdraw.
Enter a Gentleman.
Gent. Come, for another lesson, my brave Mars,
Now I am fit to quarrel with the stars,
And catch at Jove.
Bub. What's he?
Gorg. Orlando Furioso.
Gent. By the blood-stain'd falchion of Mavors, I will carbonado thee; keep off! or in my fury I will cut thee into atoms, and blow thee about the world.
Bub. I hope he does but complement?
Gent. I will outlabour Jove-born Hercules ,
And in a greater fury ransack hell.
Tear from the sisters their contorted curls,
And rack the Destinies on Ixion's wheel;
Brain Proserpine with Sisiph's rolling stone,
And in a brazen caldron, choak'd with lead,
Boil Minos, Eacus, and Radamant;
Throw Pluto headlong into moorish fens,
And sooty regions;
Dam up Cocytus with tormented souls,
And batter down the brazen gates of hell;
Make the infernal, three-chapt band-dog roar.
Cram Tantalus with apples, lash the fiends
With whips of snakes and poison'd scorpions;
Snatch chain'd Prometheus from the vulture's maw,
And feed him with her liver; make old Charon
Waft back again the souls, or buffet him
With his own oars to death.
Gorg. So, so; 'tis well: you shall take forth a new lesson, sir; sit down and breathe.
Bub. 'Twas a devilish good speech.
Enter INGENIOLO , behind .
Ing. Oh, why did nature make thee fair and cruel?
Bub. What spruce fellow's this?
Gorg. He is an hundred and fifty pounds a year in potentia , a yeoman's son, and a justice of peace's clerk; he is in love with a farmer's daughter, and thus he speaks his passion in blank verse.
Ing. Thou art some goddess, that to amaze the earth
With thy celestial presence, hast put on
The habit of a mortal; gods sometimes
Would visit country houses, and gild o'er
A sublunary habitation
With glory of their presence, and make heav'n
Descend into an hermitage. Sure thy father
Was Maia's son, disguis'd in shepherd's weeds,
And thou dost come from Jove; no marvel then
We swains do wonder at thee, and adore.
Venus herself, the queen of Cytheron,
When she is riding through the milky way,
Drawn with white doves, is but a blowze, and must,
When thou appearest, leave her bird-drawn coach,
And give the reins to thee, and trudge afoot
Along the heavenly plains, paved with stars,
In duty of thy excellence; while the gods,
Looking amazed from their crystal windows,
Wonder what new-come deity doth call
Them to thy adoration.
Bub. O, heavenly farmer's daughter!
Gorg. I'll call him in. — Ingeniolo!
Ing. [ coming forward. ] Your servant, sir, — [ to Med. ] Lady, I kiss your hand, and reverence the antiquity of your vestment. — Delia, Fortune let fall her riches on thy head, that thou mayst fill thy apron. — I am your humble observicer, and wish you all cumulations of prosperity.
Bub. Sir, I desire to suck below your waist .
Ing. I do evaculate myself to be your shadows, my generous condisciples.
Gorg. This is scholar-like.
Bub. He's one of the head form, I warrant?
Re-enter GASPARO , Countryman, and O AF .
Gasp. Sir, I receive your son, and will wind up his ingeny, fear it not; but, first, he must be under my usher, who must teach him the postures of his body, how to make legs and cringes, and then he shall be advanced to a higher class. — Curculio, lick him, with your method, into some proportion; take off the roughness of his behaviour, and then give him the principles of salutation.
Count. La' you there, boy! he will teach you the principles of saltation. — Well, good-morrow, sir; I'll leave my jewel.
Gorg. Your jewel may have the grace to be hang'd one day.
Enter JENKIN .
Jen. Bless you, sentlemen awl, and your studies and contemplations: is here a School of Complements, pray you?
Gasp. A place of generous breeding.
Jen. Generous preeding? hark you, her name was Jenkin, a good sentleman, 'tis known, her take no pleasures and delectations in urds and phrases of rhetricks; Welsemen have awl hearts and fidelities, mark you: her was going along pout creat business, but casting her eyes and visions upon your pills, and significations of your skills and professions, look you, her come in, to see the fashions and manners of your exercises; and yet, if your urships has any madrigals and pastoral canticles, look you; for in truths and verities was going now to the uods and forest, and mean to turn shepherds, goddillings; her will give you good payments of awl your inventions, and muses, pray you now.
Gasp. Amorous pastorals? I can furnish you, venerable sir.
Turn, Amaryllis, to thy swain,
Thy Damon calls thee back again;
Here is a pretty arbour by,
Where Apollo cannot pry,
Here let's sit, and while I play,
Sing to my pipe a roundelay.
How like you it, sir?
Jen. Roundelays; very good; here is moneys and considerations, look you.
Gorg. We acknowledge your bounty, my Tenth Worthy.
Gasp. [ to Medulla. ] So, mistress, I have trespass'd on your patience; now I will take occasion by the fore-lock. You can say your lecture: have you your handkercher ready, that when a suitor comes, you may put him off with wiping your eyes, as if tears stood in them ever since your husband was buried? Well, suppose I have had access to your chamber, I begin. — — Lady, think it not strange, if love, which is active in my bosom, force me to turn petitioner, that I may be reckoned amongst your servants; all my ambition, sweetest, is to be made happy in your affection, which I will study to deserve in my utmost possibilities .
Med. Alas! alas! I had a husband .
Gasp. Very well counterfeited. — — Nay, weep not; those eyes were made to shine, not waste with dew: if it be for the remembrance of him you have lost, recover him again, by placing your good opinion on a man shall sweat to do you services .
Med. It doth not, sir, become our modesty
To talk of love so soon; you will renew
My passion for his loss, and draw down tears
Afresh upon his hearse: you do not well
T' oppress a widow thus. I pray, sir, leave me;
At least I will enjoin you, if you stay,
To speak no more of love: it is unwelcome. —
What, am I perfect?
Gasp. So, 'twas very well; at the next lesson you shall learn to be more cunning.
Gorg. Wilt please you hear the novice?
Gasp. Good boy, speak out.
Oaf. God save you, sir; felicities be accumulated upon you, sir; I thank you, generous sir: you oblige me to be your servant, sir, in all my — p — o — s — possibility, sir: I honour your remembrance, sir, and shall be proud to do you my observance, sir, most noble sir .
Gasp. Very hopeful. — Now, a repetition all together; the more the merrier.
Enter INFORTUNIO .
Inf. What! at barlev-break? which couple are in hell? Are not you Helen, whose insatiate lust ruin'd fair Ilium? and you, sir, Paris with a golden nose? Hark you, Rufaldo is married to Selina.
Bub. Who? — that's my father-in-law.
Inf. How, your father? look, he has cloven feet; I am glad I have found you; what are you in hell for?
Gasp. Insinuate to them all, for their own safeties, he's desperate mad; bid none stir hence.
Inf. Hey, how came you all thus damn'd?
Jen. Damn'd! who's damn'd? is Jenkin damn'd?
Gasp. I beseech you, sir, to maintain the credit of my school: I shall be undone else; humour him a little.
Jen. Will you have her be damn'd? when hear you, pray, a Welshman was damn'd? of all things in the urld, her cannot abide to be damn'd.
Gorg. See, if you can roar him away.
Gent. Keep off! I am Hercules, son of Alcmena, Compress'd by Jove, I'll carbonado thee.
Inf. How! art thou Hercules?
Lie there, usurper of Alcides' name,
Bold Centaur: so, he's dead! by this I prove
I am Jove-born.
Jen. Well, for your credits and reputations, her care not to be damn'd for companies and fellowships, look you. Has he knock'd him down? would he had knock'd Jenkin down.
Inf. Now, on with your relations,
And tell me all the stories of your fortunes.
'Tis I am Hercules, sent to free you all. —
What are you damn'd for? In this club behold
All your releasements. — What are you?
Gorg. Stand in order, and be damn'd.
Gasp. I am the conscience of an usurer,
Who have been damn'd these two and twenty years
For lending money gratis.
Inf. How! a usurer? why didst not
Corrupt the devil to fetch thy soul away?
He'll take a bribe for lending money gratis.
Gasp. Yes, sir, for thanks. I took no interest; for, at the lending of each hundred pound, they brought me home some twenty or thirty thanks: — indeed 'twas paid in gold.
Inf. Oh, golden thanks! Well, go to, I'll release you,
Upon condition you shall build an hospital,
And die a beggar. — What are you?
Gorg. The soul of a watchman.
Inf. How came you damn'd? could you not watch the devil?
Gorg. He took me napping on midsummer-eve, and I never dreamt on him.
Inf. Your wife had given you opium over night.
Gorg. No, sir, I had watch'd three nights before; and because I would not wink at two or three drunkards as they went reeling home at twelve o'clock at night, the devil owed me a spite.
Inf. Well, you shall be 'prentice to an alchemist, and watch his stills night by night, nor sleep till he get the philosopher's stone. — What are you?
Del. Sir, I am a chambermaid.
Inf. What are you damn'd for?
Del. Not for revealing my mistress' secrets, for I kept them better than my own; but keeping my maidenhead till it was stale, I am condemn'd to lead apes in hell.
Inf. Alas, poor wench! upon condition you will be wise hereafter, and not refuse gentlemen's proffers, learn pride every day, and painting, bestow a courtesy now and then upon the apparitor to keep counsel, I release you; take your apes and monkies away with you, and bestow them on gentlewomen, and ladies that want play-fellows. — What are you?
Ing. I am an under-sheriff, sir; damn'd because I told the debtors writs were out against them, brought them to composition without arrests, favoured poor men for a whole year together, was very good in my office, gave up a just account at the year's end, and broke.
Inf. Oh, miracle! an honest man! thou shalt be churchwarden to a parish, draw the presentments, and keep the poor men's box for seven years together: 'tis pity but thou shouldst have fifty wives, to propagate honest generation. — What are you?
Med. A justice's wife in the country, sir.
Inf. And who drew your mittimus hither? what are you damn'd for?
Med. For refusing satin gowns and velvet peticoats, turning back capons at Christmas and sessions-times, and making much of one of my husband's servants, merely for his honesty and good service towards me.
Inf. 'Tis injustice; you shall bury your husband quickly, wear some blacks awhile for fashion sake, and within a month be married to his clerk, unless you will be divided among the servingmen. — What are you?
Oaf. A younger brother, sir; born at the latter end of the week, and wane of the moon; put into the world to seek my own fortune; got a great estate of wealth by gaming and wenching, and so purchas'd unhappily this state of damnation you see me in.
Infor. Came you in it by purchase? then you do not claim it by your father's interest as an heir: Well, I will ease you of the estate, because it is litigious, and you shall make presently a bargain and sale of it to a scrivener, that shall buy it of you, and pay both his ears down upon the nail for it. — What are you?
Bub. I am a horse-courser.
Infor. And couldst not thou outride the devil?
Bub. I had not the grace to mend my pace, I was an honest horse-courser, and suffered every fool to ride me: I knew not what belonged to horse-play let; the world kick at me, I never winced: all that I am damn'd for, is, that desiring to thrive in the world, and to have good luck to horse-flesh, I ambled to the bed of a parson's wife that was coltish once, and gave her husband a horse for it in good fashion. He never gave me God-a-mercy for it; indeed it proved afterwards to have the yellows.
Infor. There was some colour for it: well, since your occupation is foundered, you shall trot every day afoot, and walk a knave in the horse-fair. — What are you?
Jen. Her have no mind at all to be damn'd, becar her will fight with her and kill awl the devils in hell, diggon.
Gorg. 'Sfoot! here is more ado to get one Welshman damn'd, than a whole nation. — Sir, it is but in jest.
Jen. In jests! is it in jests? well, look you, her will be contented to be damn'd in jests and merriments for you.
Infor. You will tell me what you are damn'd for?
Jen. And her be so hot, was get some bodies else to be damn'd for Jenkin; her will tell her in patiences, look you, her was damn'd for her valour, and ridding the urld of monsters, look you, dragons with seven heads, and serpents with tails a mile long, pray you.
Infor. Oh, let me embrace thee, Worthy, in my arms,
I'll charm the Destinies for their bold attempt;
For cutting off thy thread, thou shalt cut their throats,
And be install'd Lord in Elysium.
Oh let me hug thee, Owen Glandower.
Jen. Owen Glandower was her cousin, pray you
Infor. Go your ways all: stay, take hence Prometheus, and bury him. If you come into hell again, there is no releasement.
Jen. So farewell, sentlemen; now her mean to make travels and peregrinations, to the uds and plains, look you, very fast. — Good speed to awl.
Gorg. We thank thee, jovial Hercules.
Gasp. Live long, thou king of hell. So, so, well done of all sides: here our school breaks up. I might have run mad, like this poor gentleman, had I not taken off the edge of melancholy.
— — O love, thou art a madness
Drawing our souls with joy to kill with sadness.
Infor. So, so; poor souls, how glad they are of liberty!
This is a hot house; I do scorch and broil:
I'll seek the Elysian fields out, and die there.
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