A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Ix Part 35

[_Aside_.

AMORETTO.

_Her nose is like_ ----

PAGE.

A cobbler's shoeing-horn.

AMORETTO.

_Her nose is like a beauteous maribone_. [_Aside_.

PAGE.

Marry, a sweet snotty mistress! [_Aside_.

AMORETTO.

Faith, I do not like it yet. a.s.s as I was, to read a piece of Aristotle in Greek yesternight; it hath put me out of my English vein quite.

PAGE.

O monstrous lie! let me be a point-trusser, while I live, if he understands any tongue but English. [_Aside_.

AMORETTO.

Sirrah boy, remember me when I come in Paul's Churchyard to buy a Ronsard and [a] Dubartas in French, and Aretine in Italian; and our hardest writers in Spanish; they will sharpen my wits gallantly. I do relish these tongues in some sort. O, now I do remember, I hear a report of a poet newly come out in Hebrew; it is a pretty harsh tongue, and telleth[97] a gentleman traveller: but come, let's haste after my father; the fields are fitter to heavenly meditations.

[_Exit_.

PAGE.

My masters, I could wish your presence at an admirable jest: why presently this great linguist my master will march through Paul's Churchyard, come to a bookbinder's shop, and with a big Italian look and a Spanish face ask for these books in Spanish and Italian; then, turning (through his ignorance) the wrong end of the book upward, use action on this unknown tongue after this sort: First, look on the t.i.tle, and wrinkle his brow; next make as though he read the first page, and bite 's lip;[98] then with his nail score the margent, as though there were some notable conceit; and, lastly, when he thinks he hath gulled the standers-by sufficiently, throws the book away in a rage, swearing that he could never find books of a true print since he was last in Joadna;[99] inquire after the next mart, and so departs. And so must I; for by this time his contemplation is arrived at his mistress's nose end; he is as glad as if he had taken Ostend.[100] By this time he begins to spit, and cry, Boy, carry my cloak: and now I go to attend on his worship.

[_Exit_.

ACTUS III., SCAENA 4.

_Enter_ INGENIOSO, FUROR, PHANTASMA.

INGENIOSO.

Come, lads; this wine whets your resolution in our design: it's a needy world with subtle spirits; and there's a gentlemanlike kind of begging, that may beseem poets in this age.

FUROR.

Now by the wing of nimble Mercury, By my Thalia's silver-sounding harp, By that celestial fire within my brain, That gives a living genius to my lines, Howe'er my dulled intellectual Capers less nimbly than it did afore; Yet will I play a hunts-up to my muse, And make her mount from out her sluggish nest.

As high as is the highest sphere in heaven.

Awake, you paltry trulls of Helicon, Or, by this light, I'll swagger with you straight: You grandsire Phoebus, with your lovely eye, The firmament's eternal vagabond, The heaven's promoter, that doth peep and pry Into the acts of mortal tennis-b.a.l.l.s, Inspire me straight with some rare delicies,[101]

Or I'll dismount thee from thy radiant coach, And make thee poor[102] Cutchy here on earth.

PHANTASMA.

_Currus auriga paterni_.

INGENIOSO.

Nay, prythee, good Furor, do not rove in rhymes before thy time; thou hast a very terrible, roaring muse, nothing but squibs and fine jerks: quiet thyself a while, and hear thy charge.

PHANTASMA.

_Huc ades, haec animo concipe dicta tuo_.

INGENIOSO.

Let us on to our device, our plot, our project. That old Sir Raderic, that new printed compendium of all iniquity, that hath not aired his country chimney once in three winters; he that loves to live in an old corner here at London, and affect an old wench in a nook; one that loves to live in a narrow room, that he may with more facility in the dark light upon his wife's waiting-maid; one that loves alike a short sermon and a long play; one that goes to a play, to a wh.o.r.e, to his bed, in circle: good for nothing in the world but to sweat nightcaps and foul fair lawn shirts, feed a few foggy servingmen, and prefer dunces to livings--this old Sir Raderic, Furor, it shall be thy task to cudgel with thy thick, thwart terms; marry, at the first, give him some sugarcandy terms,[103] and then, if he will not untie purse-strings of his liberality, sting him with terms laid in aquafortis and gunpowder.

FUROR.

_In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas_.

The servile current of my sliding verse Gentle shall run into his thick-skinn'd ears; Where it shall dwell like a magnifico, Command his slimy sprite to honour me For my high, tiptoe, strutting poesy: But if his stars hath favour'd him so ill, As to debar him by his dunghill thoughts, Justly to esteem my verses' lowting pitch, If his earth-rooting snout shall 'gin to scorn My verse that giveth immortality; Then _Bella per Emathios_--

PHANTASMA.

_Furor arma ministrat_.

FUROR.

I'll shake his heart upon my verses' point, Rip out his guts with riving poniard, Quarter his credit with a b.l.o.o.d.y quill.

PHANTASMA.

_Calami, atramentum, charta, libelli, Sunt semper studiis arma parata tuis_.

INGENIOSO.

Enough, Furor, we know thou art a nimble swaggerer with a goose-quill.

Now for you, Phantasma: leave trussing your points, and listen.

PHANTASMA.

_Omne tulit punctum_--

INGENIOSO.

Mark you, Amoretto, Sir Raderic's son, to him shall thy piping poetry and sugar-ends of verses be directed: he is one that will draw out his pocket-gla.s.s thrice in a walk; one that dreams in a night of nothing but musk and civet, and talks of nothing all day long but his hawk, his hound, and his mistress; one that more admires the good wrinkle of a boot, the curious crinkling of a silk-stocking, than all the wit in the world; one that loves no scholar but him whose tired ears can endure half a day together his fly-blown sonnets of his mistress, and her loving, pretty creatures, her monkey and her puppy.[104] It shall be thy task, Phantasma, to cut this gull's throat with fair terms; and, if he hold fast for all thy juggling rhetoric, fall at defiance with him and the poking-stick he wears.

PHANTASMA.

_Simul extulit ensem_.

INGENIOSO.

Come, brave imps,[105] gather up your spirits, and let us march on, like adventurous knights, and discharge a hundred poetical spirits upon them.

PHANTASMA.

_Est deus in n.o.bis: agitante calescimus illo_.

[_Exeunt_.

ACTUS III., SCAENA 5.

_Enter_ PHILOMUSUS, STUDIOSO.

STUDIOSO.

Well, Philomusus, we never 'scaped so fair a scouring: why, yonder are pursuivants out for the French doctor, and a lodging bespoken for him and his man in Newgate. It was a terrible fear that made us cast our hair.