The Works of Aphra Behn Volume I Part 43

[A Hollowing. Enter from the Front a Bank, a Pageant, which they fix on the Stage at one side, a little Pavilion on't, Musick playing, and Operators round below, or Antickers.

[Musick plays, and an Antick Dance.

Enter _Willmore_ like a Mountebank, with a Dagger in one Hand, and a Viol in the other, _Harlequin_ and _Scaramouche_; _Carlo_ with other _Spaniards_ below, and Rabble; _Ariadne_ and _Lucia_ above in the Balcony, others on the other side, _Fetherfool_ and _Blunt_ below.

_Will._ (_bowing_) Behold this little Viol, which contains in its narrow Bounds what the whole Universe cannot purchase, if sold to its true Value; this admirable, this miraculous Elixir, drawn from the Hearts of Mandrakes, Phenix Livers, and Tongues of Maremaids, and distill'd by contracted Sun-Beams, has besides the unknown Virtue of curing all Distempers both of Mind and Body, that divine one of animating the Heart of Man to that Degree, that however remiss, cold and cowardly by Nature, he shall become vigorous and brave. Oh stupid and insensible Man, when Honour and secure Renown invites you, to treat it with Neglect, even when you need but pa.s.sive Valour, to become the Heroes of the Age; receive a thousand Wounds, each of which wou'd let out fleeting Life: Here's that can s.n.a.t.c.h the parting Soul in its full Career, and bring it back to its native Mansion; baffles grim Death, and disappoints even Fate.

_Feth._ Oh Pox, an a Man were sure of that now--

_Will._ Behold, here's Demonstration-- [Harlequin stabs himself, and falls as dead.

_Feth._ Hold, hold, why, what the Devil is the Fellow mad?

_Blunt._ Why, do'st think he has hurt himself?

_Feth._ Hurt himself! why, he's murder'd, Man; 'tis flat _Felo de se_, in any ground in _England_, if I understand Law, and I have been a Justice o'th' Peace.

_Will._ See, Gentlemen, he's dead--

_Feth._ Look ye there now, I'll be gone lest I be taken as an Accessary.

[Going out.

_Will._ Coffin him, inter him, yet after four and twenty Hours, as many Drops of this divine Elixir give him new Life again; this will recover whole Fields of slain, and all the Dead shall rise and fight again-- 'twas this that made the Roman Lemons numerous, and now makes _France_ so formidable, and this alone-- may be the Occasion of the loss of _Germany_.

[Pours in _Harlequin's_ Wound, he rises.

_Feth._ Why this Fellow's the Devil, _Ned_, that's for certain.

_Blunt._ Oh plague, a d.a.m.n'd Conjurer, this--

_Will._ Come, buy this Coward's Comfort, quickly buy; what Fop would be abus'd, mimick'd and scorn'd, for fear of Wounds can be so easily cured?

Who is't wou'd bear the Insolence and Pride of domineering great Men, proud Officers or Magistrates? or who wou'd cringe to Statesmen out of Fear? What Cully wou'd be cuckolded? What foolish Heir undone by cheating Gamesters? What Lord wou'd be lampoon'd? What Poet fear the Malice of his satirical Brother, or Atheist fear to fight for fear of Death? Come buy my Coward's Comfort, quickly buy.

_Feth._ Egad, _Ned_, a very excellent thing this; I'll lay out ten Reals upon this Commodity.

[They buy, whilst another Part of the Dance is danc'd.

_Will._ Behold this little Paper, which contains a Pouder, whose Value surmounts that of Rocks of Diamonds and Hills of Gold; 'twas this made _Venus_ a G.o.ddess, and was given her by _Apollo_, from her deriv'd to _Helen_, and in the Sack of _Troy_ lost, till recover'd by me out of some Ruins of _Asia._ Come, buy it, Ladies, you that wou'd be fair and wear eternal Youth; and you in whom the amorous Fire remains, when all the Charms are fled: You that dress young and gay, and would be thought so, that patch and paint, to fill up sometimes old Furrows on your Brows, and set yourselves for Conquest, tho in vain; here's that will give you aubern Hair, white Teeth, red Lips, and Dimples on your Cheeks: Come, buy it all you that are past bewitching, and wou'd have handsom, young and active Lovers.

_Feth._ Another good thing, _Ned_.

_Car._ I'll lay out a Pistole or two in this, if it have the same Effect on Men.

_Will._ Come, all you City Wives, that wou'd advance your Husbands to Lord Mayors, come, buy of me new Beauty; this will give it tho now decay'd, as are your Shop Commodities; this will retrieve your Customers, and vend your false and out of fashion'd Wares: cheat, lye, protest and cozen as you please, a handsom Wife makes all a lawful Gain.

Come, City Wives, come, buy.

_Feth._ A most prodigious Fellow!

[They buy, he sits, the other Part is danc'd.

_Will._ But here, behold the Life and Soul of Man! this is the amorous Pouder, which _Venus_ made and gave the G.o.d of Love, which made him first a Deity; you talk of Arrows, Bow, and killing Darts; Fables, poetical Fictions, and no more: 'tis this alone that wounds and fires the Heart, makes Women kind, and equals Men to G.o.ds; 'tis this that makes your great Lady doat on the ill-favour'd Fop; your great Man be jilted by his little Mistress, the Judge cajol'd by his Semstress, and your Politican by his Comedian; your young Lady doat on her decrepid Husband, your Chaplain on my Lady's Waiting-Woman, and the young Squire on the Landry-Maid-- In fine, Messieurs,

_'Tis this that cures the Lover's Pain, And _Celia_ of her cold Disdain._

_Feth._ A most devilish Fellow this!

_Blunt._ Hold, shartlikins, _Fetherfool_, let's have a Dose or two of this Pouder for quick Dispatch with our Monsters.

_Feth._ Why Pox, Man, Jugg my Giant would swallow a whole Cart-Load before 'twould operate.

_Blunt._ No hurt in trying a Paper or two however.

_Car._ A most admirable Receit, I shall have need on't.

_Will._ I need say nothing of my divine Baths of Reformation, nor the wonders of the old Oracle of the Box, which resolves all Questions, my Bills sufficiently declare their Virtue.

[Sits down. They buy.

Enter _Petronella Elenora_ carried in a Chair, dress'd like a Girl of Fifteen.

_Shift._ Room there, Gentlemen, room for a Patient.

_Blunt._ Pray, Seignior, who may this be thus muzzl'd by old Gaffer Time?

_Car._ One _Petronella Elenora_, Sir, a famous outworn Curtezan.

_Blunt._ _Elenora_! she may be that of _Troy_ for her Antiquity, tho fitter for G.o.d _Priapus_ to ravish than _Paris_.

_Shift._ _Hunt_, a word; dost thou see that same formal Politician yonder, on the Jennet, the n.o.bler Animal of the two?

_Hunt._ What of him?

_Shift._ 'Tis the same drew on the Captain this Morning, and I must revenge the Affront.

_Hunt._ Have a care of Revenges in _Spain_, upon Persons of his Quality.

_Shift._ Nay, I'll only steal his Horse from under him.

_Hunt._ Steal it! thou may'st take it by force perhaps; but how safely is a Question.

_Shift._ I'll warrant thee-- shoulder you up one side of his great Saddle, I'll do the like on t'other; then heaving him gently up, _Harlequin_ shall lead the Horse from between his Worship's Legs: All this in the Crowd will not be perceiv'd, where all Eyes are imploy'd on the Mountebank.

_Hunt._ I apprehend you now--

[Whilst they are lifting _Petronella_ on the Mountebank's Stage, they go into the Crowd, shoulder up _Carlo's_ Saddle. _Harlequin_ leads the Horse forward, whilst _Carlo_ is gazing, and turning up his Mustachios; they hold him up a little while, then let him drop: he rises and stares about for his Horse.

_Car._ This is flat Conjuration.

_Shift._ What's your Worship on foot?