K. Ush. Lardella! O Lardella! from above, Behold the tragic issues of our love: Pity us, sinking under grief and pain, For thy being cast away upon the main. Bayes. Look you now; you see I told you true. Smi. Ay, sir, and I thank you for it, very kindly. Bayes. Ay, 'egad, but you will not have patience; honest Mr-a-you will not have patience. John. Pray, Mr Bayes, who is that Drawcansir? Bayes. Why, sir, a fierce hero, that frights his mistress, snubs up kings, baffles armies, and does what he will, without regard to numbers, good manners, or justice. John. A very pretty character. Smi. But, Mr Bayes, I thought your heroes had ever been men of great humanity and justice. Bayes. Yes, they have been so; but, for my part, I prefer that one quality of singly beating of whole armies above all your moral virtues put together, 'egad. You shall see him come in presently.Zookers! why don't you read the paper? [To the Players. K. Phy. O! cry you mercy. [Goes to take the paper. Bayes. Pish! Nay, you are such a fumbler. Come, I'll read it myself. [Takes a paper from off the coffin. Stay, it's an ill hand; I must use my spectacles. This, now, is a copy of verses, which I make Lardella compose, just as she is dying, with design to have it pinned upon her coffin, and so read by one of the usurpers, who is her cousin. Smi. A very shrewd design that, upon my word, Mr Bayes. Bayes. And what do you think now, I fancy her to make love like, here, in the paper? Smi. Like a woman: What should she make love like? Smi. [After a pause.] Admirable! Bayes. At night, into your bosom I will creep, And buz but softly if you chance to sleep; Yet in your dreams I'll pass sweeping by, And then both hum and buz before your eye. John. By my troth, that's a very great promise. Smi. Yes, and a most extraordinary comfort to boot. Bayes. Your bed of love from dangers I will But most from love of any future bee: Smi. A pick-a-pack! a pick-a-pack! Bayes. Yes, I think, for a dead person, it is a good enough way of making love; for, being divested of her terrestrial part, and all that, she is only capable of these little, pretty, amorous designs, that are innocent and yet passionate-Come, draw your swords. K. Phy. Come, sword, come sheath thyself within this breast, Which only in Lardella's tomb can rest. K. Ush. Come, dagger come, and penetrate this heart, Which cannot from Lardella's love depart. Enter PALLAS. Pal. Hold, stop your murdering hands, At Pallas's commands: For the supposed dead, O kings, Bayes. O' my word, you are out though, sir; Forbear to act such deadly things: 'egad, you are. Smi. What then? like a man? Bayes. No, sir; like a humble-bee. Smi. I confess, that I should not have fancied. Bayes. It may be so, sir; but it is, though, in order to the opinion of some of your ancient philosophers, who held the transmigration of the soul. Smi. Very fine. Bayes. I'll read the title:-" To my dear Cous. K. Phy? Smi. That's a little too familiar with a king, though, sir, by your favour, for a humble-bee. [Reads. Bayes. Mr Smith, in other things I grant your knowledge may be above me; but as for poetry, give me leave to say, I understand that better; it has been longer my practice; it has, indeed, sir. Smi. Your servant, sir. Bayes. Pray mark it. Since death my earthly part will thus remove, I'll come a humble-bee to your chaste love : With silent wings I'll follow you, dear cous, Or else before you in the sun-beams buz ; And when to melancholy groves you come, An airy ghost, you'll know me by my hum; For sound, being air, a ghost does well become. Lardella lives; I did but try If princes for their loves could die. : [The coffin opens, and a banquet is discovered. Bayes. So:-take away the coffin.-Now it's out. This is the very funeral of the fair person which Volscius sent word was dead, and Pallas, you see, has turned it into a banquet. Smi. Well, but where is the banquet? Bayes. Nay, look you, sir, we must first have a dance, for joy that Lardella is not dead. Pray, sir, give me leave to bring in my things properly, at least. Smi. That, indeed, I had forgot: I ask your pardon. Bayes. O! d'ye so, sir? I am glad you will confess yourself once in an error, Mr Smith. [Dance. K. Ush. Resplendent Pallas, we in thee do find The fiercest beauty, and a fiercer mind; And since to thee Lardella's life we owe, We'll supple statues in thy temple grow. -* K. Phy. Well, since alive Lardella's found, Let in full bowls her health go round. The two Usurpers take each of them a bowl in K. Ush. But where's the wine? [Fills the bowls out of her lance. And, to appease your hunger, I [Vanish PALLAS. Bayes. There's the banquet. Are you satisfied now, sir? John. By my troth, now, that is new, and more than I expected. Bayes. Yes, I knew this would please you; for the chief art in poetry is, to elevate your expectation, and then bring you off some extraordinary way. Enter DRAWCANSIR. K. Phy. What man is this, that dares disturb our feast? Draw. He that dares drink, and for that drink dares die, And, knowing this, dares yet drink on, am I. John. That is, Mr Bayes, as much as to say, that though he would rather die than not drink, yet he would fain drink, for all that, too. Bayes. Right; that's the conceit on't. John. 'Tis a marvellous good one, I swear. Bayes. Now, there are some critics that have advised me to put out the second dure, and print must in the place on't ; but, 'egad, I think 'tis better thus, a great deal. John. Whoo! a thousand times. K. Ush. Sir, if you please, we should be glad to know How long you here will stay, how soon you'll go. Bayes. Is not that, now, like a well-bred person, 'egad? So modest, so gent! Smi. O! very like. Draw. You shall not know how long I here will stay; But you shall know I'll take your bowls away. [Snatches the bowls out of the Kings' hands, and drinks them off. Smi. But, Mr Bayes, is that, too, modest and gent? Bayes. No, 'egad, sir, but 'tis great. K. Ush. Though, brother, this grum stranger be a clown, He'll leave us, sure, a little to gulp down. Draw. Whee'er to gulp one drop of this dares think, I'll stare away his very power to drink. [The two Kings sneak off the stage, with their I drink, I huff, I strut, look big, and stare; Smi. I suppose, Mr Bayes, this is the fierce hero you spoke of. Bayes. Yes; but this is nothing: you shall see him, in the last act, win above a dozen battles, one after another, 'egad, as fast's they can possibly come upon the stage. John. That will be a sight worth the seeing, indeed. Smi. But, pray, Mr Bayes, why do you make the kings let him use them so scurvily? Bayes. Pho! that is to raise the character of Drawcansir. John. O' my word, that was well thought on. Bayes. Now, sirs, I'll shew you a scene indeed, or rather, indeed, the scene of scenes: 'tis an beroic scene. Smi. And pray, sir, what's your design in this scene? Bayes. Why, sir, my design is gilded truncheons, forced conceit, smooth verse, and a rant: in fine, if this scene do not take, 'egad, I'll write no more. -Come, come in Mr-a-nay, come in as many as you can.-Gentlemen, I must desire you to remove a little, for I must fill the stage. Smi. Why fill the stage? Bayes. O, sir, because your heroic verse never sounds well but when the stage is full. SCENE II. Enter Prince PRETTYMAN and Prince VOL SCIUS. Nay, hold, hold; pray, by your leave a little. Look you, sir; the drift of this scene is somewhat more than ordinary; for I make them both fall out, because they are not in love with the same woman. Smi. Not in love! you mean, I suppose, be cause they are in love, Mr Bayes. Bayes. No, sir, I say, not in love: there's a new conceit for you.-Now speak. Pret. Since Fate, Prince Volscius, now has found the way For our so long'd-for meeting here this day, A Vol. I gladly would that story from thee learn. But thou to love dost, Prettyman, incline; Yet love in thy breast is not love in mine. Bayes, Antithesis! Thine and mine! /Pret. Since love itself's the same, why should it be Differing in you from what it is in me? Bayes. Reasoning! 'Egad, I love reasoning in verse. Vol. Love takes, camelion like, a various dye Pret. Let not thy love the course of nature Nature does most in harmony delight. Vol. How weak a deity would Nature prove, Contending with the powerful god of love? Bayes. There's a great verse! Vol. If incense thou wilt offer at the shrine [Exit. \ Of mighty Love, burn it to none but mine: Bayes. 'Egad, that is right. My better choice: for fair Parthenope, Gods would themselves ungod themselves, to see. Pret. Durst any of the gods be so uncivil, Pret. Perhaps dull incense may thy love suf- I'd make that god subscribe himself a devil. fice; But mine must be adored with sacrifice: All hearts turn ashes which her eyes controul; Vol. My love has yet a power more divine: Bayes. That is as well, 'egad, as I can do. Pret. I'll sooner have a passion for a whale, Bayes. Yes, but as far a fetch'd fancy, though, 'egad, as e'er you saw. Vol. Soft, Prettyman, let not thy vain pre tence, Of perfect love, defame love's excellence : All other loves, as above all is love. Bayes. Ah, gadzookers! that's well writ! [Scratching his head, his peruke falls off. Vol. Couldst thou that god from heaven to earth translate, He could not fear to want a heavenly state: Pret. Cloris does heaven itself so far excel, Bayes. There's a bold flight for you now!S'death! I have lost my peruke.-Well, gentlemen, this is that I never yet saw any one could write but myself. Here's true spirit and flame all through, 'egad.-So, so:-pray clear the stage. [He puts them off the stage. John. I wonder how the coxcomb has got the knack of writing smooth verse thus. Smi. Why there's no need of brain for this; 'tis but scanning the labours on the finger; but where's the sense of it? John. O! for that he desires to be excused; he is too proud a man to creep servilely after sense, I assure you. But pray, Mr Bayes, why is this scene all in verse? Bayes. O, sir, the subject is too great for prose. Pret. To blame my Cloris, gods would not pre- ale for that answer; 'tis well worth it. Bayes. Now mark. Bayes. Come, with all my heart. I'll make that god subscribe himself a devil. Vol. Were all gods join'd, they could not hope That single line, 'egad, is worth that my brother to mend poets ever writ.-Let down thain. [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. BAYES and the two Gentlemen. Bayes. Now, gentlemen, I will be bold to say, I'll shew you the greatest scene that ever England saw; I mean, not for words, for those I don't value, but for state, shew, and magnificence: in fine, I'll justify it to be as grand to the eye, every whit, 'egad, as that great scene in Harry the Eight, and grander too,'egad; for instead of two bishops, I bring in here four cardinals. [The curtain is drawn up; the two usurping Kings appear in state, with the four Cardinals, Prince PRETTYMAN, Prince VOLSCIUS, AMARILLIS, CLORIS, PARTHENOPE, &c. before them; Heralds and Serjeants-at-arms, with maces. Smi. Mr Bayes, pray, what is the reason that two of the cardinals are in hats, and the other in caps? Bayes. Why, sir, because--by gad, I won't tell you. Your country friend, sir, grows so troublesome. K. Ush. Now, sir, to the business of the day. Vol. Dread sovereign lords, my zeal to you must not invade my duty to your son: let me entreat that great Prince Prettyman first do speak, whose high pre-eminence, in all things that do bear the name of good, may justly claim that privilege. Buyes. Here it begins to unfold: you may perceive now that he is his son. John. Yes, sir, and we are very much beholden to you for that discovery. Pret. Royal father, upon my knees I beg sir. Pret. Behold, with wonder, yonder comes from far A god-like cloud, and a triumphant car, K. Ush. Then, brother Phys, 'tis time we should be gone. [The two Usurpers steal out of the throne, and go away. Bayes. Look you now, did not I tell you that this would be as easy a change as the other? Smi. Yes, faith, you did so, tho', I confess, I could not believe you; but you have brought it about I see. [The two right Kings of Brentford descend in the clouds, singing, in white garments, and three Fiddlers sitting before them in green. Bayes. Now, because the two right kings descend from above, I make 'em sing to the tune and style of our modern spirits. 1st King. Haste, brother king, we are sent from 2d King. Now mortals, that hear With wonder, will fear The event of such things as shall never appear. 1st King. Stay you to fulfil what the gods have decreed. 2d King. Then call me to help you, if there shall be need. 1st King. So firmly resolv'd is a true Brentford king To save the distressed, and help to 'em bring, That, ere a full pot of good ale you can swallow, He's here, with a whoop, and gone, with a halloo. [BAYES fillips his finger, and sings after them. Bayes. He's here, with a whoop, and gone, with a halloo. This, sir, you must know, I thought once to have brought in with a conjuror. John. Ay, that would have been better. Bayes. No, faith, not when you consider it ; for thus it is more compendious, and does the thing every whit as well. Smi. Thing! what thing? Bayes. Why, bring 'em down again into the throne, sir :-What thing would you have? Smi. Well, but methinks the sense of this song is not very plain. Bayes. Plain! Why, did you ever hear any people in the clouds speak plain? They must be all for flight of fancy, at its full range, without the least check or controul upon it. When once you tie up sprites and people in clouds to speak plain, you spoil all. Smi. Bless me, what a monster's this! [The two Kings light out of the clouds, and step into the throne. 1st King. Come, now to serious council we'll advance. 2d King. I do agree; but first, let's have a dance. Buyes. Right. You did that very well, Mr Cartwright.-But first, let's have a dance! Pray remember that; be sure you do it always just so; for it must be done as if it were the effect of thought and premeditation.—But first, let's have a dlance! Pray remember that. Smi. Well, I can hold no longer; I must gag this rogue; there's no enduring of him. John. No, pr'ythee make use of thy patience a little longer; let's see the end of him now. [Dance a grand dance. Bayes. This, now, is an ancient dance, of right belonging to the kings of Brentford, but since derived, with a little alteration, to the inns of court. An Alarum. Enter two Heralds. 1st King. What saucy groom molests our privacies? 1st Her. The army's at the door, and, in disguise, Desires a word with both your majesties. 2d Her. Having from Knightsbridge hither march'd by stealth. 2d King. Bid 'em attend a while, and drink our health. Smi. How, Mr Bayes? the army in disguise! Bayes. Ay, sir, for fear the usurpers might discover them, that went out but just now. Smi. Why, what if they had discover'd them? Bayes. Why, then they had broke the design. 1st King. Here, take five guineas for those warlike men. 2d King. And here's five more, that makes the sum just ten. 1st Her. We have not seen so much the Lord knows when. [Exeunt Heralds. 1st King. Speak on, brave Amarillis. Ama. Invincible sovereigns, blame not my modesty, If, at this grand conjuncture [Drum beats behind the stage. 1st King. What dreadful noise is this that comes and goes? Enter a Soldier, with his sword drawn. Sol, Haste hence, great sirs, your royal persons save, For the event of war no mortal knows: The army, wrangling for the gold you gave, First fell to words, and then to handy-blows. [Exit. Bayes. Is not that, now, a pretty kind of a stanza, and a handsome come off? 2d King. O, dangerous estate of sovereign power! Obnoxious to the change of every hour. 1st King. Let us for shelter in our cabinet stay; Perhaps these threatening storms may pass away. [Exeunt. John. But, Mr Bayes, did not you promise us, just now, to make Amarillis speak very well. Bayes. Ay, and so she would have done, but that they binder'd her. Smi. How, sir; whether you would or no? Bayes. Ay, sir, the plot lay so, that, I vow to gad, it was not to be avoided. Smi. Marry, that was hard. John. But pray, who hinder'd her? Bayes. Why, the battle, sir, that's just coming in at the door: and I'll tell you now a strange thing, tho' I don't pretend to do more than other men, 'egad,—I'll give you both a whole week to guess how I'll represent this battle. Smi. I had rather be bound to fight your battle, I assure you, sir. Bayes. Whoo! there's it now:-fight a battle! there's the common error. I knew presently where I should have you. Why, pray, sir, do but tell me this one thing:-Can you think it a decent thing, in a battle before ladies, to have men run their swords through one another, and all that? John. No, faith, 'tis not civil. Bayes. Right. On the other side, to have a long relation of squadrons here, and squadrons there, what is it but dull prolixity? John. Excellently reasoned, by my troth! Bayes. Wherefore, sir, to avoid both those indecorums, I sum up my whole battle in the representation of two persons only, no more, and yet so lively, that, I vow to gad, you would swear ten thousand men were at it, really engaged. Do you mark me? Smi. Yes, sir; but I think I should hardly swear though, for all that. Bayes. By my troth, sir, but you would though, when you see it; for I make 'em both come out in armour, cap-a-pée, with their swords drawn and hung with a scarlet riband at their wrist; (which, you know, represents fighting enough.) John. Ay, ay; so much, that, if I were in your place, I would make 'em go out again without ever speaking one word. Bayes. No, there you are out; for I make each of 'em hold a lute in his hand. Smi. How, sir? instead of a buckler? Bayes. O Lord! O Lord! instead of a buckler! Pray, sir, do you ask no more questions. I make 'em, sir, play the battle in recitativo. And here's the conceit. Just at the very same instant that one sings, the other, sir, recovers you his sword, and puts himself in a warlike posture, so that you have at once your ear entertained with mu sic and good language, and your eye satisfied with the garb and accoutrements of war. Smi. I confess, sir, you stupify me. Bayes. You shall see. John. But, Mr Bayes, might not we have a lit tle fighting? for I love those plays where they cut and slash one another upon the stage, for a whole hour together. Bayes. Why, then, to tell you true, I have contrived it both ways. But you shall have my recitativo first. John. Ay, now you are right; there is nothing, then, can be objected against it. Bayes. True; and so, 'egad, I'll make it, too, a tragedy, in a trice. Enter, at several doors, the General and Lieute nant-General, armed cap-a-pée, with each of them a lute in his hand, and his sword drawn, and hung with a scarlet riband at his wrist. Lieut-Gen. Villain, thou liest. Gen. Arm, arm, Gonsalvo, arm. What! ho! The lie no flesh can brook, I trow. Lieut. Gen. Advance from Acton with the musqueteers. Gen. Draw down the Chelsea cuirassiers. Lieut.-Gen. The band you boast of, Chelsea cuirassiers, Shall, in my Putney pikes, now meet their peers. Gen. Cheswickians, aged, and renowned in fight, Join with the Hammersmith brigade. Lieut.-Gen. You'll find my Mortlake boys will do them right, Unless by Fulham numbers over-laid. Gen. Let the left wing of Twick'n'am foot ad vance, And line that eastern hedge. Lieut.-Gen. The horse I raised in Petty France Shall try their chance, And scour the meadows, overgrown with sedge. |