Scaramouch a philosopher, Harlequin a school-boy, bravo, merchant, and magician a comedy after the Italian manner : acted at the Theatre-Royal / written by Mr. Edward Ravenscroft.

Scaramouch a philosopher, Harlequin a school-boy, bravo, merchant, and magician a comedy after the Italian manner : acted at the Theatre-Royal / written by Mr. Edward Ravenscroft.

Table of contents

Title page

Prologue.

The Persons Names.

SCARAMOUCH. ACT I. SCENE I. A Brick-house.

Act. II. Scene I.

Act III. Scene I. A School-Room.

Act IV. Scene I.

Act V. Scene I.

Epilogue.

§

[Page]

[Page]

SCARAMOUCH A Philosopher, HARLEQUIN A School-Boy, Bravo, Merchant, and Magician. A Comedy After the ITALIAN manner. Acted at the Theatre-Royal.

Written by Mr. EDWARD RAVENSCROFT.

Spe Incerta certum mihi laborem sustuli.

Terent. in Hecyram.

Printed for Robert Sollers at the Flying Horse in St. Pauls Church-yard, MDCLXXVII.

Prologue.

[Page]

[Page]

VEry unfortunate this Play has bin;

A slippery trick was play'd as by Scapin.

Whilst here our Actors made along delay,

When some were idle, others ran away,

The City House comes out with half our Play.

We fear, that having heard of this so long,

Your expectation now will do it wrong.

The Poet does a dang'rous trial make,

And all the common Roads of Plays forsake.

Vpon the Actors it depends too much,

And who can hope ever to see two such

As the Fam'd Harlequin & Scaramouch.

This well he knew.—

Yet rather chose in new attempts to fail,

Than in the old indifferently prevail.

Great Wits refrain this writing, 'cause 'tis low,

They oftner write to please themselves than you.

Like but the Play, let others have the name,

Let both French and Italians share the fame,

But if't be bad, let them too bear the blame.

[Page]The Persons Names.

Scaramouch, a Philosopher. Mr. Griffin.

Pancrace, a talkative Doctor. Mr. Powell.

Octavio, Son to Scaramouch. Mr. Clark.

Cynthio, Son to Pancrace. Mr. Wiltshire.

Spitzaferro, a Coward ignorant and bold. Mr. Cartwright.

Plautino, a man of intrigue. Mr. Goodman.

Harlequin. Mr. Haynes.

A Fencing Master.

A Dancing Master.

A Singing Master.

An Officer.

Aurelia, belov'd by Octavio. Mrs. Vincent.

Livia, under the name of Zerbinetta, a suppos'd Gypsye.

A School-Mistris. Mrs. Covey.

SCARAMOUCH.
ACT I. SCENE I. A Brick-house.

[Page]

Enter Octavio.

Octavio.

AH too Cruel News for a Poor Lover; the Person I adore must this day by the Commands of her Parents resign her self to the imbraces of one she loaths and hates: this Letter she sent to me for Releif—What's to be done?

Enter a Fencing, a Dancing, and Singing Master.

All three, Good Morrow, good Morrow Signior,

Oct.

Gentlemen, I have earnest business calls me abroad this morning, I cannot stay to learn my Exercises now, but let me see you at this Hour to morrow: your Servant gentlemen.

Exit.

All three, Servitore, Signior, Servitore.

Enter Harlequin.

Omnes▪

Ha Harlequin.

Harl.

Signior Dancero.

Sings and dances and makes legs.

Signior Singero.

Sings out and then singsa piece of a Tune.

Signior Fencero, Euh.

Makes Thrusts at him As if he were fencing.

Euh, Euh, Servitore, Servitore.

Fenc.

Good morrow, good morrow to you.

Sing.

You are very Merry.

Harl.

You have been teaching Signior Octavio his exercises. [Page] Signior Chantero i'le sing you a rejoycing Air, pourpassa—tempio un [...] Alegare [...]zza, una Ca [...]sona, Bella, Bella,

Harl. sings a ridiculous Song.

Sing.

O Rarely well sung Signior Harlequin.

Harl.

Singing and Dancing I understand well enough. But Signior Alonge, I don't Comprehend the Mistery of your Vocation, what need is there of killing a Man by Rule?

Fence.

The art of Fencing consists in two things, to give and not to receive that is, to ofsend, and defend.

Harl.

That is to run a Man through, and not be run through, which is to kill and not be killed, ha-

Fenc.

Right, and 'tis impossible you shou'd receive, if you know how to turn the Sword of your Enemy from the line of your Body. And this depends only on the Motion of the wrist, As——in thus, and out—thus.

Harl.

A man then whether he be valiant or not, If he has but this art, is sure to kill a Man and not be hanged for it.

Fenc.

And not be killed.

Harl.

O not be kill'd, but if he be hang'd 'tis as bad.

Fenc.

This which I tell you is demonstration.

Harl.

Oh, Oh, but I can give you better demonstration, how a man may not be kill'd▪

Fenc.

As how?

Herl. Fences and Iumps forwards and backward with his Wooden Sword against the Fencer, His foil, and at last runs away.

Harl.

For example There—

Fenc.

There is no guard indeed like a good pair of Heels, But if you run away how will you do to kill your Enemies?

Harl.

Come behind him and Shoot him, or kill him pissing against a Wall, Demonstration, a sure way to kill and not be kill'd,

Fenc.

But a Gentleman ought to have Honour and Gallantry.

Harl.

I was not born a Gentleman.

Fenc.

There's nothing so commendable as the knowledg of Arms. This Imports more than all other Sciences. Singing and dancing are things unprofitable in respect of this.

Dance.

Very good, my Master of Defence, pray don't so much undervalue dancing.

Sing.

Nor speak so slightly of Musick.

Fence.

You won't I hope compare Hopping and Squealing to the Noble Science of Defence?

Dance.

There's a Man of Confidence.

[Page]Sing.

A very pleasant Fellow.

Fence.

Why my Nimble Sir, such another word, and I shall lead you a new dance, and make you my little Canary Bird change your Note.

Danc.

If you are at that good Mr. Fencer, I shall teach you your business a little better.

Harl.

Eh, are you mad to quarrel with a Man that understands to Fight in Teirce and in Quart? and knows how to kill a Man by Demonstration?

Danc.

I care not for his demonstration, for his Tierce ▪nor his Quart.

Harl.

Eh, Eh.

Fenc.

How you Grasshopper, you Skip Jack, you Hop-myThum.

Harl.

Eh, Mr. of Defence.

Dan.

You cold Iron Carrier, you spit-frog, you Scarecrow, Bravo.

Harl.

Eh, Mr. Dancer.

Fen.

If once I fall upon your bones—

Harl.

Eh, No.

Dan.

And if I take you to task—

Harl.

Eh Fye.

Fen.

I'l make you dance to a new Tune.

Harl.

Eh, Pray.

Dan.

And I'l learn you to mind your hits.

Harl.

Eh, Fie No!

Sing.

Stand aside, we'l give him Demonstration.

Herl.

Eh, No, No, Pray, Auh!

Enter Scaramouch.

Hola, Signior Scaramouch, you come very luckyly With your Learning and Wisdom to perswade 'em to Peace and quietness.

Scar.

What's the matter?

Harl.

They are quarrelling about their Professions, and going to fight it out, Which is best?

Scar.

Wherefore are you thus transported with rage? Have you not learn't Moral Philosophy? which teacheth the Government of our Passions. Have you never read the Learned Treatise Seneca compos'd of Choller. Ought not reason to be Masters of our Passions?

Danc.

But Signior Scaramouch, he had the impudence t'affront us, and speak contemptously of our Professions, and undervalue singing and dancing.

[Page]Scar.

A wise man is above injuries, and the best return to affronts is Moderation and Patience.

Fence.

They had both of 'em the Impudence to compare their two Professions of singing and dancing to the Noble Science of defence.

Scar.

And ought you to be concern'd at this? is this sufficient to cause such irregular emotions, it is vain Glory to make comparisons, Wisdom and Virtue only give distinction.

Sing.

There is nothing so profitable to the Publique as Musick.

Danc.

Nor nothing so necessary to Mankind as dancing

Sing.

All the disorders, all the Wars which have been in the World have happen'd, for not having learn'd Musick.

Danc.

All the misfortunes of Mankind, all the lamentable Stories which we read of in History, the disapointments of Councils, the failuers of great Generals, and defeats of Armies have bin thro' want of Dancing.

Fenc.

Ha, Ha, Ha.

Scar.

How so?

Sing.

Does not War proceed from the want of Union among men?

Scar.

True.

Sing.

And if all men wou'd learn Musick, wou'd not they accord better with one another? And wou'd not there be an universal peace and quietness in the World? Peace is when all men agree in a Harmonious Concurrence, Peace and Concord are the same thing.

Scar.

Oh!—

Danc.

When a man fails in his conduct, whether it be in respect to the affairs of his—Family, or the Government of the Kingdom, or in the Command of an Army, is it not always said of such a man he did not go well about his business; he did not take the right time? And so,—

Scar.

Oh!—▪

Danc.

And how shou'd a man go well, or do any thing in time, that can't Dance?

Fenc.

Ha, Ha, Ha.

Danc.

Here now you see the profitableness of Dancing, and Musick, Dancing is therefore a Science absolutely necessary to mankind.

[Page]Sing.

And Musick is a Science without which the World cannot subsist.

Fenc.

And how will you Govern without the Sword? And where are your Generals and Armies without men that understand their Weapons? Therefore I maintain against them both, that the Science of Desence is the noblest and most necessary of all Sciences whatever.

Scar.

And what think you all of Philosophy? You are all three very impertinent to give the name of Science to your professions. A Fencer, a Musician, A Dancer. A Hector, a Fidler, and a Jack Pudding.

Fenc.

Out you lowsie Philosopher.

Sing.

You Pittiful Pedant.

Danc.

You formal Blockhead.

Scar.

How you Rascals?

He falls on them with his sists, and they buffet him.

Harl.

Eh, Signior Philosopher.

Scar.

Slaves, Rogues, Rascals.

Harl.

Signior Philosopher.

Fenc.

Dunce, Blockhead.

Harl.

Gentlemen!

Scar.

Impudent Rogues.

Harl.

Signior Philosopher.

Scar.

Ignorant Sots▪

Harl.

Signior Philosopher, Gentlemen.

Scar.

Rascals.

Harl.

Signior Phisosopher.

Sing.

Impertinent Philosopher.

Harl.

Gentlemen.

Scar.

Curs, Dogs, Sots, Rogues, Rascals, Villains.

Exeunt Fighting.

Harl.

Signior Philosopher, Gentlemen.

Signior Philosopher, Gentlemen, Signior Philosopher; e'ne fight Dog, sight Bear, and the Devil part 'em, l've done all I can.

Exit.

Re-enter Scaramouch composing himself, and Harlequin Counterfeiting a Rage.

Harl.

Ha! Impertinent Rogues, Rascals, Ignorant Sots, Illiterate Beasts, Curs, Dogs, Whelps, Knaves. Villains.—

Scar.

Moderate this Passion, anger is offensive to the Eyes of a Philosopher.

[Page]Harl.

No body must be angry but himself, Rogues, Affront a learned Philosopher!

Scar.

It imports not, a Philosopher can bear injuries as he ought, I will go write a Book against Musick, dancing, and Fencing, and undo all the Professors of it by Argument.

Vaulting here.

Exit.

Harl.

That I was but a Philosopher to have this Command and Government over my Passions.

Exit.

Enter Octavio.

Oct.

O my cross fortunes, O my Aurelia, I'le call her forth, to know if she at last resolves by her obedience to make me wretched, and her self unhappy—St—St—Signiora Aurelia.

Enter Aurelia.

Aur.

Who's there, Signior Octavio?

Oct.

Ah Aurelia, is that true, which this Letter Imports? are you to be marri'd so soon?

Aur.

Such is the appointment of my Father.

Oct.

What has occasion'd this sudden Resolution?

Aur.

He finds his Sickness to increase, and the Phisicians grow doubtful of his Recovery, wherefore he has presixt the time of my Marriage, that he may see me well dispos'd of as he thinks, before he dyes—▪but what Change is this I see in you? Why in your Countenance do you wear these marks of Sorrow? Do you doubt my Fidelity? Or are you not assur'd of the love I have for you?

Oct.

Yes Aurelia, I am assur'd you love me, but have no Assurance you will ever love me. I have heard say, that the love of your Sex is not so lasting as that of ours, and that passions in Womens brests are like Flames rising from light perishable Substance, which decay even as soon as they are born.

Aur.

My Heart then is not like those of other Women, I perceive well enough, that the Fervency of my love cannot be abated but by death.

Oct.

I believe that you really think what you speak. But I dread a power that in your heart will combat against those tender Sentiments it has sor me, your Dependance is on a Fathers will, that already is determin'd to dispose of you.

[Page]Aur.

No Octavio, 'tis not in a Fathers Power to force me to break my Vows to you, I'm resolv'd to abandon my Family, nay my Life, rather then quit you.

Oct.

O blest Assurance!

Aur.

After this you are no longer to doubt me, but indeavour my Relief, if it shou'd come to the extremity, think therefore how to dispose of me, if I am forc'd to fly from this Marriage?

Oct.

I will instantly go and advise with some faithful Friend.

Aur.

Heaven will be favourable to our Vows.

Oct.

Heaven cannot be cross to me, if you are constant.

Aur.

Most assuredly I will, Adieu.

Ex.

Oct.

I shall then be happy.

Enter Cynthio and Harlequin.

Cynt.

My Father arriv'd?

Harl.

Signior Si.

Cynt.

And this morning?

Harl.

This morning.

Cynt.

And return'd say'st thou with a Resolution to have me marry?

Harl.

Signior Si.

Cynt.

The Daughter of Signior Scaramouch?

Harl.

Of Signior Scaramouch.

Cynt.

And that Signior Octavio is to marry my Sister, and make it a cross match?

Harl.

A cross match.

Cynt.

Cross indeed to us both. My Fathers Voyage then to Lauretto, was not out of Devotion as he pretended, but to fetch them from the Monastry.

Harl.

From the Monastry.

Cynt.

And you met my Father just as he came ashore?

Harl.

Signior Si.

Cynt.

And he told you this?

Harl.

Signior Si.

Cynt.

And he knows all my concerns thou say'st?

Harl.

All.

Cynt.

And that in his absence I have made a contract?

Harl.

A Contract.

Cynt.

Prithee speak to me, and don't in this manner catch my last words.

[Page]Harl.

you forget not the least circumstance.

Oct.

How's that Signior Cynthio, your Father arriv'd, and knows you are Contracted?

Harl.

Signior si.

Cynt.

O Octavio! Counsel me what's to be done in this juncture?

Oct.

I'm at as great a plunge, and want a Counsellor my self.

Cynt.

As soon as my Father see's me, a Tempest of outrage will pour upon me—his Reproaches will be most violent.

Harl.

Methinks I already see his Brow bent with fury against you, and his Cane lifted above his head, to give you a thousand dry drubs for the folly you have committed.

Cynt.

How shall I avoid the storm?

Oct.

How shall I secure my Love?

Enter Plautino.

Plaut.

Who's here! Signior Octavio? Signior Cynthio, how is't, what's the matter? why look you both so melancholy?

Cynt.

Signior Plautino I'm undone.

Oct.

And I the most unfortunate man in the World.

Plaut.

How? In what?

Cynt.

My Father is arrived with a resolution to have me marry.

Oct.

And Aurelia to morrow is to be married to Spittzaferro.

Plaut.

And what harm is there in all this to you two?

Cynt.

You know not our concerns.

Plaut.

No, but 'tis in your power to tell me, and I am a man of great Consolation, one that Negotiates in the affairs of young Gentlemen.

Cynt.

O Plautino, if you could find any invention to draw me out of this trouble that I am just falling into, I should think I ow'd even my life to you.

Oct.

And if you cou'd prevent or but delay this Marriage—

Plaut.

To tell you the truth, nothing almost is impossible to me, Heaven has blest me with a genious fit for all manner of witty Contrivances, and pretty Inventions, therefore tell me your grievances.

Cynt.

You know 'tis a month since my Father took a Voyage to Lawretto.—

[Page]Plaut.

I know it Sir.

Cynt.

A few days after his departure, Signior Octavio and I in our rambles, met with a Troop of them that call themselves Egyptians.

Plaut.

Fortune-tellers.

Harl.

Signior Si, Gypsies.

Cynt.

They had in their company a young Girl, of beautiful Features, that Sung and Danced to a Miracle, who had in all she did such acharming Air.

Plaut.

That you cou'd not chuse but fall in love.

Harl.

Signior Si, at the same time she stole Signior Cynthio's heart and my money.

Cynt.

I know not if it were the agreeableness of these good qualities of Singing and Dancing—

Harl.

and picking of Pockets.

Cynt.

First raised in me an unconquerable Passion.

Plaut.

So.

Cynt.

After two or three Visits, the Company wou'd Permit me to make no addresses to her without a Contract of Marriage, which after much strugling with my Passion, I consented to.

Plaut.

You are then Contracted to her?

Cynt.

Yes, and have not the least regret for what I have done, but languish for the happy hour to consummate the Marriage.

Plaut.

What stop?

Cynt.

Before I take her from them I am to lay down two hundred Pistols for the expence of her Education, and to recompence the loss the whole Company will suffer by her departure.

Plaul.

I understand▪ Deposit the sum.

Cynt.

'Tis that I want.

Plaut.

Borrow't.

Cynt.

I forged a plausible story to a Friend of my Fathers, that I wanted so much for his use in his absence, who had promised it me within two days; But now my Father's arrived, that design's ruin'd, and I am too cruelly disappointed.

Plaut.

And this is your grievance?

Cynt.

It is.

Plaut.

Now Signior Octavio, let me know your resentments.

Oct.

I have long bin in love with the fair Aurelia whose passion corresponds with mine, but her Father is averse to it, and proposes Signior Spittzaferro for her Husband, and he's too wealthy a Rival to be Supplanted.

[Page]Plaut.

But are you sure Aurelia loves you?

Oct.

Yes, and hates Spitzaferro.

Plaut.

Then fear nothing.

Oct.

Yes I have much to fear. To secure her mind I drew her to a Contract.

Plaut.

Better and better.

Oct.

Her Father who has long languished under a great fit of sickness, apprehending his death is near, with all speed presses her Marriage, and has appointed that to morrow shall make her a Bride to my Rival.

Plaut.

It cannot be, it must not, it sha'not.

Oct.

These are words of comfort.

Plaut.

And all that troubles you is your want of money to purchase your dear, pretty little Creature, and the fear you have to see your father, after his having heard of your engagement.

Cynt.

Yes.

Oct.

And my care is for Money to provide for the Person I love, if being Pres't to this Marriage she be forced to sly from her Fathers importunity and Anger.

Plaut.

Good Heavens, that you should call me to counsel for this, had you not one pritty invention, one little Stratagem, where's thy wit Harlequin, are thy Brains Addle?

Harl.

O Signior Plautino, I am better at Execution then Invention.

Plaut.

Well, we'l try what performance you have.

Cynt.

Do you believe—

Plaut.

Euh no more, but think how to receive your fathers onset, without being daunted.

Cynt.

I tremble to think of his coming, and have a natural timerousness in me, that I can't ore come, were't any but a Father—

Plaut.

You must in the first encounter show your self a man, least finding you give ground, he proceeds to treat you like a Child; go and practice how to behave your self; take courage and Resolution; be possitive in all your answers and obstinate.

Cynt.

I'l endeavour.

Plaut.

Accustom your self a little by Practice, come let's see how you'l behave your self. Your Posture bold, your head upright, your looks assured.

Cynt.

So.

[Page]Plaut.

Good, now imagine I am your Father arriv'd, and answer me as you would do him, Hau! Villain, disobedient Villain, ungratious Varlet, the greif of thy Parents, and shame to thy Family, the dishonour and burden of my old Age, unworthy as thou art to bear the name of my Son; how dare you appear before me, that have in my absence, given me so much cause of displeasure, and done as thou hast done? Is this the reward of my care to give thee breeding? Is this the best return you make me, this the respect due to a Father? Is this your duty and obedience? Go ungratious wretch as thou art, hadst thou the boldness, the impudence, to engage your self without my consent and approbation, to marry without my leave or knowledg, answer me, answer me, you that sneak so, what have you to say for your self? What are you struck dumb?

Cynt.

I cant but imagine 'tis my Father himself that rants thus at me.

Harl.

He swaggers like one of threescore, cuds-so h'has made me tremble.

Plaut.

You must not therefore behave your self like a Boy that is affraid of a Rod; come he's not your Schoolmaster, but your Father.

Cynt.

I'l go in and fortify my self with resolutions, I'm resolv'd not to be danted.

Plaut.

Not so much as in looks.

Cynt.

No.

Plaut.

Nor hang you head.

Cynt.

No.

Plaut.

Nor be not Mealy Mouth'd.

Cynt.

No, I'l give him two words for one.

Harl.

Cudso, an excellent Tutor and an apt Scholler.

Plaut.

Don't bate him an Ace.

Cynt.

Not a tittle, you have whetted me, and I am sharp.

Plaut.

See your Father is coming.

Euh.

Plaut.

Signior Octavio retire, and leave us the Field to our selves.

Oct. Exit.

Harl.

Signior Si, let us stand aside, and see the Battle, whiz the Bullets will fly Anon.

Cynt.

O my heart failes me.

Plaut.

No, no, stay you, Sir stay.

[Page]Harl.

Euh, Eo poura, Signior, Eo poura.

Plaut.

Come bear up.

Cynt.

I can't stand the Brunt, I'l e'ne get out of his sight

Exit.

Plaut.

Signior Cynthio, stay Signior Cynthio, see He's gon, what ill temper'd mettle is this Blade made of? That his edg is turn'd already; well I'l speak to him, do you second me, and be sure to back my discourse.

Enter Pancrace.

Panc.

Was ever the like Action in a Son?

Plaut.

He has heard the business already, and can't forbear talking on't to himself.

Panc.

so villainous a peice of Insolence.

Plaut.

Let's harken a little nearer.

Panc.

I'd fain know what he can say for himself.

Plaut.

We have our Story ready.

Panc.

Does he think to deny his Marriage?

Plaut.

No, that's the least of our thoughts.

Panc.

Or hopes he to excuse it?

Plaut.

As well as we can.

Panc.

Or will he tell me some fine Story?

Plant.

It may be we may.

Panc.

It shall be to no purpose.

Plaut.

We'l try that.

Panc.

I'l harken to nothing.

Plaut.

Reason or not Reason.

Penc.

I'l lay him up in Lavender.

Plaut.

His fears make him require sweeting. Sir I am glad to see you safe return'd.

Panc.

Good morrow Plautino, I'l go find him out.

Plaut.

I believe Sir your voyage agreed with you very well, you are grown fat upon it, and look mighty well.

Panc.

I am very well,—marry without my knowledg?

Plaut.

Had you not a very pleasent Voyage?

Panc.

A very pleasant one, pray let me alone to be angry.

Plaut.

How Sir, wou'd you be angry?

Panc.

Yes Sir, I have reason to be angry I think.

Plaut.

With whom?

Pance.

With my Son.

[Page]Plaut.

For what I beseech you?

Penc.

You have not heard what has been done in my absense.

Plaut.

I heard of some small matter.

Panc.

How! an action of this nature, a small matter?

Plaut.

'Tis true you have some reason to.

Panc.

Twas such a Prank.

Plaut.

Yes truly but—

Panc.

A Son to marry without the consent of his Father.

Plaut.

Something may be said as to that indeed, but I know you are a man of that Wisdom not to be too much concern'd at what cann't be help't.

Panc.

Not to be concern'd, yes I will be concern'd, don't you think, that I have all reason immaginable to be angry?

Plant.

Yes truly you have so, I was angry my self when I first heard on't, I was so much concern'd for your sake, that I school'd your Son soundly, ask him there what a Lecture I read him for his want of respect to a Father, to whose least commands he ought to show obedience, no man cou'd have said more, not your self. But I have since considered things according to Reason, and find (now my Passion is gone) that they are not so bad as may be imagin'd,

Panc.

How? What can be worse, then for a Son to run headlong, and Marry no body knows who?

Plaut.

Oh, I grant it was not well done, but what? our Actions depend not altogether on us, the Stars have a powerful influence. In sine, it was his Fate.

Panc.

That's a fine Reason indeed, by that means a man may Cheat, Rob, Murder, and say for excuse, 'Twas his Fate so to do.

Plaut.

But Sir, you take my words in too strict a Philosophical a sense, yet Fate is hard to be resisted, and the influence of the Stars, concur much to the Operations of our Minds.

Panc.

But does not wisdom controul the Stars, and the Fate you: talk of? Sapiens Dominabitur Astris—

Plaut.

'Tis true, Wisdom corrects but cannot quite alter the course of the Stars—But what, you don't expect to see your Son at these years as wise as your self?

Harl.

As for example, young Mr. Octavio, notwithstanding all my good Counsels, daily Advice, Remonstrances, Cautions and Caveats, has yet play'd a more foolish trick then Signior Cynthio.

[Page]Plaut.

I wou'd fain know if you were not young once your self, and had not your Devices and Vigaries like others? I have heard say that you were heretofore very brisk upon the Ladies, a great Gallant, and kept Company with all the Ladies of the times.

Panc.

'Tis confest, but I had still a regard to my self, I never did what he has done.

Plaut.

And what has he done? He saw a young Lady whom he loved, he had that from you to have a kindness for all pretty Women. He found her very charming, made her visits, look'd languishingly on her, sigh'd and talk'd passionately, and declared his love in all the gallantries of Courtship. She makes a return, he is weak, the temptation strong, his Stars conspire, Fate helps, Opportunity presents, he makes use of the Critical minute, the Parents surprise him, force him to marry her, he gives her his Hand, and makes the best of a bad Market, and yet you'l be angry.

Harl.

Ha, Ha, Ha, Rogue!

Plaut.

What wou'd you have had him been kill'd? it is yet better to be Marry'd then Murther'd.

Panc.

I ne're heard that matters went so far.

Plaut.

Ask him, see if he don't say the same thing?

Panc.

Was he forc'd to marry?

Harl.

Oh Signior si, with a great Battoon.

Plaut.

Nay I'de not lye for the matter.

Panc.

Then he shall presently go to a Notary, and Depose upon Oath, that he was forc't to't.

Plaut.

But that's a thing he'l never do.

Panc.

I'le have it done to annul the Marriage.

Plaut.

To annual the Marriage?

Panc.

Yes.

Plaut.

Ah, you won't annul it Signior Pancrace.

Panc.

Won't I annul it?

Plaut.

No.

Panc.

Why have not I the Authority of a Father? Is it not Reason and Justice for the violence offer'd my Son—

Plaut.

He will never agree to't.

Panc.

Not agree to't?

Plaut.

No.

Panc.

Not my Son?

[Page]Plaut.

No, not your Son, wou'd you have him declare himself a Coward? and say that he did it for fear? Oh, he never will, that were to disgrace himself and his Family, and make him unworthy to be the Son of such a Father as you?

Panc.

I care not for that.

Plaut.

He must for his own reputation and your honour, say that his Marriage was his own choice.

Panc.

But I'le have him for my Honour and his own Reputation, say just the contrary.

Plaut.

I'me sure he never will.

Panc.

I'le make him.

Plaut.

Indeed he will not▪

Panc.

He shall, or I'le disinherit him.

Plaut.

You?

Panc.

I.

Plaut.

Good!

Panc.

I'le do't.

Plaut.

No, you'l not disinherit him.

Panc.

Won't I disinherit him?

Plaut.

No.

Panc.

But I will.

Plaut.

No.

Panc.

No?

Plaut.

No.

Panc.

That's fine, I won't disinherit my Son!

Plaut.

Signior, No.

Panc.

Who shall hinder me?

Plaut.

Your self.

Panc.

My self, good!

Plaut.

Yes, you can't have the heart.

Panc.

But you'l find I shall.

Plaut.

Nature and the compassion of a Father will take his part.

Panc.

They'l signifie nothing.

Plaut.

Yes, Yes.

Panc.

No.

Plaut.

I know you are naturally of a good disposition.

Panc.

No, I am not, I can be angry if I please, but let's end this discourse which provokes me. I'le go and find out Signior Scaramouch, and acquaint him with the fine Actions of my Son.

[Page]Plaut.

Signior Pancrace, if I can be serviceable to you in any thing, you need but Command.

Panc.

I thank you Signior Plautino, O that I had but my Son alive that is dead, to make him my Heir.

Exit.

Harl.

You are an able man, our business is now in a good Posture, but Money, Money, Signior Plautino, Eh, 'tis a Pritty Gipsie.

Plaut.

I engage—The design is hatch'd, I am only thinking where to find a man that we may trust to act a part that I have designed stay, stand you at a little distance, give your Hat, the Cock of an angry Bully, sway your body upon one leg, set one hand by your side, swell, look fierce and killing, now take an angry march round, now turn short Cock before and behind at once, now quickly draw, ha, advance with a countenance full of fury, as if you had found the man you were to sacrifice. So—'tis well, I shall put fit words into your mouth, and instruct you to disguise your visage, and alter your voice.

Harl.

Eh, Signior Plautino, don't put me to swim out of my depth, I have no good heart for a Lyon.

Plaut.

O a Lamb in a Lions skin is as dreadful to the eye as a Lions whelp.

Harl.

And lot the fear of the Galleys be before your eyes.

Plaut.

We'l share the danger betwixt us, three years more or less in the Galleys is not sufficient to restrain a noble heart from a brave understanding.

Exeunt.

The End of the first Act.

Act. II. Scene I.

[Page]

Enter Plautino and Spittzaferro.

SPitt.

Ah Signior Plautino, I meet you very luckily, I was just coming to find you.

Plaut.

For what Signior Spittzaferro?

Spitt.

To ask your advice about a business I have in hand.

Plaut.

I'm very glad I meet you, here we may discourse with freedom.

Spitt.

Be cover'd I beseech you, 'tis concerning a matter of great importance, but it is not good to proceed in matters of this nature without the counsel and advice of Friends.

Plaut.

I take it as a particular honour, Signior Spittzaferro, that you make choice of me. Well Sir, acquaint me with the business.

Spitt.

But first I desire you not to flatter me, but really and truly to tell me your thoughts.

Plaut.

Well, since you desire it, I will.

Spitt.

There's nothing I should sooner find fault with, than a friend that won't freely tell me his mind.

Plaut.

You are in the right.

Spitt.

In this Age 'tis very hard to find a sincere friend.

Plaut.

Very true.

Spitt.

Wherefore Signior Plautino give me your advice, with all the freedom imaginable.

Plaut.

There's my Hand upon't.

Spitt.

Swear to me.

Plaut.

By our friendship, as I hope to live. Now tell me what ist?

Spitt.

I wou'd know whether you think it convenient for me to marry or not?

Plaut.

For you to marry?

Spitt.

Yes, I my self in Person, what wou'd you counsel me?

[Page]Plaut.

I tell you plainly, that 'twill be very indiscreetly done of you to marry, for marriage is a thing that even young people ought to consider of before they do it, and if marriage at the best be counted the greatest of follies, what can be worse than to be guilty of this folly, at an Age when we shou'd be more discreet. In short Sir, I tell you my opinion, I wou'd not counsel you to marry, and you'l be thought the indiscreetest man in the world, having liv'd free to these years, if you shou'd now thrust your neck into the yoak.

Spitt.

And I tell you Signior Plautino, that I'm resolv'd to marry, come what will, and that no body will count me a fool for marrying the Gentlewoman I pretend to, when once they see what manner of person she is.

Plaut.

O! that alters the Case, you did not tell me that.

Spitt.

She's one that's very pritty, and one that I love very well.

Plaut.

You love her very well?

Spitt.

With all my heart, and I have her Fathers consent.

Plaut.

Oh, you have her Fathers consent too?

Spitt.

Yes, and I have promis'd to be marri'd to morrow.

Plaut.

O Marry, Marry, I have no more to say.

Spitt.

I was formerly against marrying, but now I consider if I continue as I am, the race of the Spittzaferro's will be at an end, and in marrying I shall live after I am dead, in my issue.

Plaut.

Therefore you'l do very well to marry.

Spitt.

Yes, what a pleasure I shall take to see a Company of little Creatures, to whom I gave life and motion, and are so many small Figures of my self, there shall I see my self drawn to the life in little. O how these little images will be hopping and jumping about me, and calling me Pa pa, talking and prattling, and telling me a company of pritty little foolish tales, O the dear pritty little Poppets, what can be more delightful.

Plaut.

Nothing in the world, therefore marry the first thing you do.

Spitt.

Very good, you give me that Counsel.

Plaut.

I counsel you, you can't do better.

Spitt.

Truly I am very well pleased to find you counsel me so like a friend.

Plaut.

But who is this Person you are to marry?

Spitt.

One Mistress Aurelia.

[Page]Plaut.

What the pritty young Mistriss Aurelia?

Spitt.

Yes.

Plaut.

She that is so modish and waggish?

Spitt.

Yes.

Plaut.

Daughter to Signior Ieronimo?

Spitt.

The same.

Plaut.

And Sister to young Alberto that has a command in the Castle?

Spitt.

'Tis she, but him I never saw yet, he's in the Country.

Plaut.

Mercy upon me?

Spitt.

What say you Signior?

Plaut.

A very fit person for you, marry with all speed.

Spitt.

Have I not made a good choice?

Plaut.

A rare one, ah, what a fine Wife will you have, Marry, Marry, Marry Signior Spittzaferro.

Spitt.

Your approbation pleases me extreamly, I give you many thanks for your good counsel, and invite you to my Wedding to morrow.

Plaut.

I'le not fail to come. The young Aurelia Daughter to Signior Ieronimo, marry'd to Signior Spittzaferro, that is not above 53 years of Age; oh what a match, what a fine match is this?

Exit.

Spitt.

This match must needs be very happy, for every body is much pleas'd that hears on't, I have not told it to one but smil'd at my choice as soon as I speak, I shall to morrow be the happiest man in the world. O here comes my Mistress.

Enter Aurelia.

Ah! how pritty, what an Air, how delicately shap'd, and what a Stature! Can any man see her and not have a mind to her? whether art thou going my little Poppet, my dear Wife that is to be, of thy Husband that must be?

Aur.

I'm going about a little business.

Spitt.

Euh—good, my little Mopsie, the hour is coming that we two must make one another happy, I can do with you what e're I please, without any Body's saying why do you so? or is it well done? you will be mine all over from head to foot, I shall then be your right owner, and Master of you all over, of your pritty waggish Eyes, of that pretty little Roguish Nose, of those Cherry-Cherry lips, of those little, little, fritter Ears, of those [Page] pretty blub-cheeks,—of that dimpl'd, dimpl'd Chin, of those round, hard, panting Bubbies, of your soft, white Skin, of your—Euh—oh!—In fine, every part and particle of you will be solely and wholly at my disposal; and I shall be the like to you, to be stroak'd and kiss'd, and do what e're you please with, Are you not glad of this Marriage, my little Wanton?

Aur.

Most extremely glad, I'll assure you: For to say truth, my Father's severity has kept me in a most intollerable subjection, I have been almost mad for a little more liberty, and especially e're since he was sick. He has kept me so mew'd up in his warm Chamber, that I have wanted room to breath in. Were it not for you, that I must go abroad to buy things for our Wedding, I shou'd never have stirr'd from him: Ah! the fresh Air is so comfortable to me.

Spitt.

—And the sight of me,—

Aur.

Above all,—I have wish'd a thousand times that he would marry me to somebody, that I might get out of his Jurisdiction, and be a little more at my own disposal; and you, I thank you, are come most luckily to do me that good turn.

Spitt.

I'll take you into my tuition.

Aur.

Aye—Signior Spittzaferro, and now I'l be preparing to lead a pleasanter life, to take my full swing of pleasure, to make amends for what I have lost.

Spitt.

Eumh!

Aur.

Now, Sir, you being a very brave person, well bred and one that understands what it is to live, I believe that we shall do well together; and that you will not be one of those troublesome Husbands that wou'd have their Wives live sneaking and mew'd up; 'tis a thing that does not at all agree with me, I shou'd never away with't in a Husband; I can't endure a dull solitary life, 'tis directly against my humour; I'm all Air and Mirth; I like to go where I please, and do what I list.

Spitt.

Eumh!

Aur.

I love Visiting. Plays, Balls, Masquerades, and good Company: I'm for good Clothes,—a sine Coach, and handsome Liveries, and appearing amongst the best, as well drest, and as rich as any of e'm.

Spitt.

Eumh! yes, yes.

Aur.

In fine, I'm resolv'd to make my life as pleasant as I can; and I know you'l think your self happy to have a Wife of my humour.

[Page]Spitt.

Eumh;—Yes, yes.

Aur.

We'l never be medling, nor thwarting one another; I'l not concern my self at what you do: As I hope, on the other side, you'l not be contradicting, or telling me what I shall do.

Spitt.

Eumh; no, no.

Aur.

As for my part, I think there ought to be a mutual compliance, and that people ought not to marry to be troublesome to one another. In fine, when we are married we'l live like two that understand one anothers humour; no jealousy nor suspitious shall trouble your head, but it shall be sufficient that you have an assurance of my fidelity; as I shall have a good opinion of yours. But what troubles you, I perceive your countenance much chang'd on the sudden?

Spitt.

Some splenatick vapours that rise and dizzy my brain.

Aur.

'Tis a distemper that abundance are troubled with. But our Marriage will take away all that. Adieu, Signior Spittzaferro, my dear Husband,—That must be, of your Wife that is to be. I am in a little hast at present, because I have not Clothes and things about me as I wou'd have; I'm just going to buy me what things I want, you shall see how sine I'l be to morrow—Adieu Signior Spittzaferro.

Ex.

Enter Plautino.

Plaut.

Signior Spittzaferro, I'm glad to find you still here: I met just now a Jeweller who had the finest Diamond-Ring that I have ever seen; and thinking you might want one to present to your Mrs. I earnestly entreated him to come to you, and let you see't. He will be here presently.

Spitt.

No hast, no hast, Sir.

Plaut.

How! what mean you, Signior Spittzaferro, you were very hot upon't e'en now?

Spitt.

Since that I have some scruples come into my head concerning my Marriage: I will very well consider on't before I proceed any farther; I wou'd sain have somebody interpret to me a Dream which I had last night; and but just now call to mind. You know that Dreams are as they were Glasses, that represent to us things that shall happen. I dreamt that I [Page] was in a Ship, and the Sea very tempestuous; and that—

Plaut.

Signior Spittzaferro, I have a little urgent business at present that will not let me stay to hear you out; I have no skill in dreams, besides, I give no credit to e'm. But as for consultation about your Marriage, hear a couple of very learn'd Philosophers, your Neighbours, Signior Scaramouch, and Signior Doctor Pancracio, one a bold Aristotelian, and the other a modest Academick; with them you may debate about every particular of your Marriage, they being of different Sects, you may hear their several opinions, and from both judg what's best for you to do; for my part, I'm satisfi'd with what I said to you before: And so your Servant.

Exit.

Spitt.

He's in the right; I ought in this case to consult these learned Men.

Exit.

Enter Pancracio and Scaramouth.

Panc.

This unadvised Marriage of my Son extremely alters the measures we had taken.—

Scar.

Strange folly of youth!

Panc.

But no matter, Signior Scaramouch.

Scar.

Let me tell you that—

Panc.

I'l suddenly remove all obstacles.

Scar.

That the education of children—

Panc.

Is not altogether sufficient to prevent e'm from running into extravagancies, because nature is subject to frailty, and we are sometimes deceived by ill under the species of good.

Scar.

Signior, no, that—

Panc.

That it is better to bestow it upon a Son than an Estate, because Wealth respects only the body, and may be taken from us; but we cannot be depriv'd of our virtues, which are the riches of the mind, because more permanent, and of greater importance.

Scar.

No, that—

Panc.

That it cannot be taught in old age, because the habits that are grown up with us are too deeply fix'd in nature, to be rooted out.

Scar.

No, that—

Panc.

That unless it be given to youth, they will miscarry all their life long, because they want the Bridle that shou'd curb and restrain e'm in their full carreer.

[Page]Scar.

No, that—

Panc.

That nothing can be more beneficial, because without it we are things unpolish'd, and rather Bruits than Men.

Scar.

No, that—

Panc.

That, what? what, Signior Scaramouch?

Scar.

Euh! Signior Doctore!

Panc.

Oh, Bono!—

Scar.

Oh, Patientia!—

Panc.

Signiorsi.

Scar.

That the education of children—

Panc.

Is a task—

Scar.

Signior, no.

Panc.

Is of that consequence.

Scar.

Signior, no.

Panc.

Is of such a value—

Scar.

Signior, no.

Panc.

Is a thing t—

Scar.

Signior, no, no, no, Signior no.

Panc.

Why, what is it then, Signior Scaramouch?

Scar.

You have done?

Panc.

Signiorsi.

Scar.

You have no more to say?

Panc.

Signior, no.

Scar.

You are satisfy'd.

Panc.

Signiorsi.

Scar.

You'l hear me now?

Panc.

Signiorsi.

Scar.

And not interrupt me?

Panc.

Signior, no.

Scar.

You promise?

Panc.

Yes.

Scar.

Upon your word?

Panc.

Yes.

Scar.

We'l talk some other time then.

Panc.

O! que Diavolo!

Walks gravely away.

Scar.

Hola! Signior Scaramouch, let us discourse a little.

Panc. goes after him, and takes him by the sleeve. Scaramouch returns.

Scar.

I say then, the Education of children.

Panc.

Aye, the Education of children

[Page]Scar.

Is a thing not to be expected from every Father; for no one is fit to give Education to youth—

This is spoke at the same time that Pancrace speaks.

Enter Harlequin. Sees e'm both gabling together, comes and stands betwixt e'm, laughs, looks in their faces, and runs out.—

But such as are of great Reason and Judgment. Hence it proceeds that so many Sons miscarry, because their Parents foolishly presuming on their own abilities, will be giving directions when they want it themselves: And how is it possible that any shou'd be well instructed, when he that will teach, needs to be taught. No, no, they who cannot give some eminent proof of their Abilities, ought rather to commit their Pupils to the care of those who are of known sufficiency, acd thorowly experienc'd in the Principles and Rudiments of—

Enter Harl. with a Drum, stands betwixt e'm, and beats lowder and lowder; they turn from each other, and hold their ears. He goes out laughing.

Panc.

Concurs so much to their

This is spoke at the same time as that above.

future being, that it is a duty incumbent on all Parents, to see e'm well brought up, and endoctrinated; for without Education our life is offensive to others, and a burthen to our selves; and Education consists principally in three points, First, in the Authority of him that instructs: Secondly, in his Care; and Thirdly, in his Ability: He must have Authority, or he is not regarded; for Youth is headstrong; he must have Care, because they are heedless; he must have Abilities, because many are indocile, and hard to be taught; and nothing but the soundness of his Reason can expel their Ignorance; which being innate and—

Exit.

Panc.

Oh! so; Signior Scaramouch.

Looks about, sees no-body, and turns to Scaramouch.

[Page]Scar.

Signior.

Pancracio stands in a posture leaning his ear, as listning to what Scar. will say; Scar does the same to him.—

Panc.

Speak.

Scar.

Si.

As they stand listning, Harl enters, stands betwixt 'em, looks in their faces; bursting into a little laughter, retreats, sings, and laughs.

Harl.

Ha! he! he! he! hi!

Ex.

Panc.

Signior Scaramoueh.

Scar.

Ap—pouh.

Panc.

Speak.

Scar.

Ap—pouh

Harl.

Ah—he—he—hi!

Harl. hits each a pat with his Sword on the Buttocks; as they each turn round,—he passes betwixt them, and goes out: they, in in turning, face each other.

Panc.

Signior Scaramouch, what have you to say?

Scarl.

Nothing.

Panc.

Nothing?

Scarl.

Nothing, Signior Pancrace, but that if your Son had had a discreet Father for his Instructor, he wou'd have known better things e're this, than making of Contracts and Marriages.

Panc.

But what if the Son of Signior Scaramouch, that has learnt the fine Accomplishments of Musick, Dancing, Fencing and Riding, and that has had such a wise Father to govern him, has done the like?

Scarl.

How, Signior Pancrace?

Panc.

Even so.

Scarl.

I understand not the Riddle.

Panc.

Harlequin can explain it.—Adieu.

Scarl.

Done the like! O here he comes.

Enter Octavio.

Octav.

Good-morrow to you Sir.

Scarl.

Octavio!

Oct.

Your Blessing.

Scarl.

No matter for Ceremony.

[Page]Oct.

Are you unwilling to receive the tenders of my duty?

Scarl.

I have other business with you.

Oct.

What, Sir?

Scarl.

Stand before me, look me full in the face; fix your eyes upon my forhead.

Oct.

No Sir.

Scarl.

I read guilt in your looks.

Oct.

What do you mean Sir?

Scarl.

What horrid thing have you done?

Oct.

Nothing, Sir, to offend you

Scarl.

Nothing?

Oct.

No, Sir.

Scarl.

You'l not confess,—Harlequin says true.

Oct.

Harlequin!

Scarl.

O, do you blush at that?

Oct.

Has he told you any thing of me?

Scarl.

I'm in hast, look to't; if thou hast dishonour'd me, I'le renounce thee: And come not in my sight.

Ex.

Enter Cynthio, Harlequin.

Oct.

O! Are you there, Sir? I'm glad to find your Worship.

Harl.

Eh! your Servant, Sir; your Humble Servant, Signior Octavie.—I am your most Humble Servant.

Oct.

You are very Ceremonious, but I shall spoil your Compliment, and let you understand,

Harl.

Ah! Signior Octavio!

Octavio draws. Harl. falls on's knees.

Cynt.

O! hold.

Oct.

Pray don't hinder me.

Harl.

Eh! Signior!

Cynt.

Signior Octavio.

Oct.

Pray don't interpose.

Cynt.

O! pray don't offer to—

Harl.

Eh!—How have I offended, in what?

Oct.

You are ignorant, are you?—I'le give you instructions, I will.

Cynt.

Pray be pacify'd.

Oct.

Ho; I'l make the Rogue instantly confess his treachery; [Page] yes Sirrah, I will: you thought it should never have been discover'd, but I'l have an open confession from thy own mouth, or run my Sword down your throat as deep as ever it was in the scabbard.

Harl.

Ah! poor Harlequin, can you have the heart to—

Oct.

Confess then.

Harl.

Signior, I confess I have offended you.

Oct.

O, have you so!

Harl.

Truly I have done you wrong, I confess it, Signior; but I don't know in what.

Oct.

I'l refresh your memory.

Cynt.

No, no, Signior Octavio.

Harl.

Well, Sir, since I must, I confess that my Companions and I drank up three of those six Flasks of Florence-Winae you sent to your Friend for a Present; when I told you that a Tile fell from the top of a House which was mending, and dropt just into my Basket, and broke 'em.

Oct.

O! did you drink it, Raseal, did you?

Harl.

Yes Sir, and ask your pardon.

Oct.

I'm glad I know't. But this is not the thing I now question you about.

Harl.

This not the thing?

Oct.

No, 'tis a business that more neerly concerns me.

Harl.

I have done nothing else.

Oct.

Have you not, Sir, have you not?

Harl.

Eh!

Cynt.

Hold! hold!

Harl.

Eh! Signior, yes, yes: About a fortnight since, when you sent me one night to your Mistress, to Present her with the Gold-Watch, and I return'd cover'd over with dirt, and my face bloody, and told you that I was set upon by Rogues in the dark, as I went cross the square, who knockt me down, and rob'd me both of that and my Money—

Oct.

So.—

Harl.

It was all but invention, I went and sold it.

Oct.

You sold it, you did.—

Harl.

Yes, but can't imagine how you shou'd come to know't.

Oct.

A very good confession.

Harl.

Signior, I wanted a small sum of Money.

Oct.

But this is not the thing neither I was resolv'd to know.

[Page]Harl.

No? oh! I am very sick, Signior.

Oct.

No, Villain, this is not it; but I'l make you out with it, or—

offers to strike.

Cynt.

Hold.

Harl.

Eh!—Well, Signior, you remember one night, as you came home from your Mistresses, that a Rogue came behind you, and knockt you down into the kennel with a great Club, and all spoil'd your new Clothes.—

Oct.

Yes.

Harl.

'Twas I, Signior, laid you sprawling, and then fell all along my self, as if I had been knockt down too, and cry'd out Thieves! Thieves!

Oct.

It was your Roguery, yes.

Harl.

Only, Signior, to make you keep better hours, and cause you to come home sooner a nights from your Mistresses, where you used to sit up late, and let me stand waiting for you without in the cold, to the great prejudice of my health.

Oct.

A precious servant, when time and place are more convenient, we'l talk more at large of these particulars; but at present I am only concern'd to know what thou hast lately done to me, yet worse than all this.

Harl.

Not this neither.

Oct.

No, Sirrah!

Harl.

This is all.

Oct.

This all?

Harl.

Signiorsi.

Oct.

No, Sirrah, this is not all, and I'l not leave thee till thou hast confest the very thing.

Aarl.

But will you leave me then?

Oct.

But confess.

Offers to strike.

Harl.

Eh! Signior, tell me what 'tis, and I'l confess with all! my heart.

Oct.

Quick, Sirrah, quick; I'm in hast.

Harl.

Let it alone till another time, and I'l think on't against I see you next.

Oct.

Sirrah, one minutes delay, and thou art dead.

Harl.

Eh! Signior Octavio; Mercy, Signior, I have told you all.

Oct.

This all?

Harl.

Signiorsi.

[Page]Oct.

You'l not confess then what you told my Father?

Harl.

Your Father! yes—

Oct.

What?

Harl.

Nothing.

Oct.

Nothing?

Harl.

Signior, no.

Oct.

No?

Harl.

'Signior, no.

Oct.

Look to't, I had it from his own mouth.

Harl.

Signior, with your permission, Heaven won't bless him, if he tells lies.

Oct.

If I find you did, I'l cut your throat as sure—

Enter Plautino.

Plaut.

Sir, I bring you ill news.

Cynt.

What, Plautino?

Harl.

Cut my throat! Signior, no; Signior Octavio, Servitore.

Ex. running.

Plaut.

The Egyptians are upon going away with your Zerbinetta, and she, with tears in her eyes, charg'd me to come with all speed▪ to acquaint you, that if you don't come and bring the Money (within two hours) which the Company demand for her, you will lose her for ever; for they intend for Germany.

Cynt.

Within two hours!

Plaut.

At farthest.

Cynt.

Without thy aid, Plautino, I am wretched. If thou hast no invention to procure the Sum, I'm undone for ever.

Plaut.

How much is't?

Cynt.

Five hundred Ducats.

Oct.

And I am ruin'd too, if thou canst not procure me 200 Pistols.

Plaut.

I have a Mint in my Brain, and I'l coin so much for you both presently.

Cynt.

But time presses the performance.

Plaut.

I'l make both your Fathers Purses bleed for't. As for your business, the Engine is already fitted. Well, let's about our design: Where's Harlequin? he must make one.

Cynt.

Your threats have made him desert us.

Plaut.

He'l be a necessary Impliment.

[Page]Oct.

I'l endeavour to regain him before he's got quite out of our reach.

Cynt.

His fear will make him avoid you.

Plaut.

I'l hunt him out.

Exeunt.

Enter Harlequin.

Harl.

I'l have no more to do with young men; I'l apply my self to the old, that are grave and serious. I'l go and consult with Signior Pancrace, the learn'd Doctor, to know how I shall be a wise man. Hola! Signior Doctore!

Enter Pancraccia.

Panc.

Who's there?

Harl.

Your Servant, Signior Doctore.

Panc.

O ho! Harlequin, what news?

Harl.

Signior Pancrace, I have a mind to be a Philosopher.

Panc.

Good.

Harl.

I am vext that my Father and Mother did not breed me up to be a Scholar when I was young.

Panc.

A very rational reflections; Nam sine Doctrina vita est quasi mortis Imago; You know what that is, you understand Latin?

Harl.

Yes, but in a manner as it were that I did not. Tell me the meaning of't▪ I pray.

Panc.

That is to say; Without learning, life is but the Image of death.

Harl.

I find this Latin has much of truth in't. Pray give me your instructions. for I have a mind to be one of your Sect.

Panc.

You have the Foundation of Knowledg already, the Principles and Rudiments of Learning.

Harl.

Eh; yes, yes, I can write and read.

Panc.

What is it you have most mind to learn? Logick?

Harl.

Logick! what is Logick?

Panc.

Logick is that which directeth the three operations of the understanding.

Harl.

The three operations of the understanding! what be they?

Panc.

The first, the second, and the third; the first is, to apprehend [Page] well by the means of the Universals. The second is▪ to judg well by means of the Categories. The third is, to draw a consequence well by means of the Figures, Barbara, Celarent, Darii, Ferio, Baralipton, &c.

Harl.

He's Conjuring.

starts back.

Panc.

Come near.

Harl.

What are these, the names of Spirits, or of Heathen Philosophers?

Panc.

The names of Figures, the chief things in Logick?

Harl.

Logick then I find is full of cramp-words; teach me something that is not so crabbid, something that I may learn with pleasure.

Panc.

Have you a mind to learn Morals?

Harl.

Morals! what's the meaning of Morals?

Panc.

Moral Philosophy treats of Happiness, teaches men to moderate their Passions, and—

Harl.

Eh; Signior, no; I can't moderate my passions; when I am vext, I am as angry as the Devil in Hell, and hearken to no manner of reason, therefore Morals will be in vain.

Panc.

Wou'd you then learn Physicks, or Natural Philosophy?

Harl.

What is that about?

Panc.

It explicates the Principles of natural things, and the Proprieties of bodies: It discourses of the nature of the Elements, Metals, Minerals, Stones, Plants, and Animals: and teaches the cause of Meteors, of the Rainbow, of Comets, Lightnings, Thunder, of Rain, Snow, Hail, of Winds, Tempests, and Earthquakes.

Harl.

There's too much hurry in this, it makes too great a din [...]in a man's ears, and giddies his brain.

Panc.

Meta-Physicks then?

Harl.

Meta-Physicks, Signior! Meta-Physicks?

Panc.

Treats of Heaven, and Angels, of Spirits and—

Harl.

No, I'l have nothing to do with Spirits.

Panc.

What wou'd you learn then?

Harl.

Teach me to spell well, that I may write so, as people may know what it means.

Panc.

Oh, Orthography!

Harl.

Yes, Orthography.

Panc.

O, very well; have you e're a Primmer?

[Page]Harl.

I learn the Primmer!

Panc,

Yes, 'tis very requisite for a man that will be a Philosopher, to understand the Primmer well.

Harl.

I was a Philosopher twenty years ago then. Teach me something that is mighty fine to know, something that is very curious, that I may pass for one deeply learn'd. Teach me to understand the Almanack.

Panc.

The Almanack?

Harl.

Yes, that I may know how many days are in a week, how many weeks in a month, how many months in a year.

Panc.

Good.

Harl.

How to know when Quarter-day comes, and how often in a year: that I may be sure never to lose any of my wages.

Panc.

Good! so.

Harl.

That I may know when the Wind blows, or does not blow; when it rains, or not rains; or when the Moon shines, or does not shine.

Panc.

Things very material, and necessary to be learnt: sollow me, and I'l carry you to a fine old Gentlewoman that lives hard-by, who shall instruct you.

Harl.

Is she a Philosopher, Signiore?

Panc.

A profound one, and deeply skill'd in the Primmer, and the Almanack. Come, I'l recommend you to her, and she shall take pains with you.

Harl.

Your Servant, Signiore Pancrace.

Exeunt.

The End of the second Act.

Act III. Scene I. A School-Room.

[Page]

The Scene draws, and discovers Harlequin amongst a company of little children at School, all gabling together in a Schooltone; the Mistress sitting in the middle in a great Chair, with a great Rod and a Ferrula sticking upright at either corner of the back o'the Chair. Harl. snatches a piece of Bread and Butter out of one of the childrens hands; the child falls a crying.

3d Sch.

EUnh! Eunh! Eunh!

Mistr.

How now? who's that makes a noife: there?

1st Sch.

The new Scholar.

2d Sch.

The new Scholar.

Mist.

Child, come hither; what makes you cry, tell me?

3d Sch.

H'has got my Bread and Butter.

Mist.

Cuds-lidikins, he; which is that he?

3d Sch.

He there.

Mist.

My new Scholar! does he play such tricks already?

Harl.

I was very hungry, Signiora Philosopher.

Mist.

I shall teach you better manners.

Harl.

I ask'd for a piece, and the cross Chit wou'd give me none.

Mist.

And therefore you were so rude to snatch it?

Harl.

I had not eat my Breakfast to day.

Mist.

Look you do so no more.

Harl.

Mayn't a Philosopher eat Bread and Butter?

Mist.

Come, which of all you Dunces that stay behind here, can say your Lessons, that you may go home after your fellows?

All Sch.

I, I, I, I, I, I.

Mist.

Look to't, they that tell me they can, if they can't, [Page] shall be whipt; therefore sit you down, and mind your Books till I come agen, that you may be perfect.

Harlequin goes and sits in the Mistresses Chair, takes the Rod and plays with it; pulls out an Apple, and eats and sings with his mouth full.

1st, 2d, 3d. Sch.

O brave! O brave!

1st Sch.

I'l tell my Mistress.

2d Sch.

I'l tell my Mistress.

1st, 2d, 3d Sch.

Ha! ha! ha!

Harl.

You, little boy, come hither, and say your Lesson.

1st Sch.

Pray, who are you?

Harl.

I'm a Philosopher.

1st Sch.

Ha! ha! ha! A Philosopher! Pray, Mr. Philosopher, come out of my Mistresses Chair.

They throw Books at him, and pull him to come out.

All Sch.

Ay, come out of the Chair, come out.

Harl.

I'm a Philosopher! I'm a Philosopher! I'm a Philosopher!

Enter Mistress. They all run to their places. Harl. sees the Mistress, and runs to her.

Mist.

So, what's to do here?

Harl.

O que Diavolo!

Mist.

This is fine! my back's no sooner turn'd, but you are all at your Gambols: Come, for this trick, he that has not his Lesson perfect, shall be sent home with a good whipping: and first, let's see what you can do, you, Mr. Philosopher.

Harl.

Signiora!

Mist.

Come, and stand by my Chair; so, stand upright. How chance you han't wash'd your hands to day?

Harl.

O! no matter.

Mist.

No matter, said you?

Harl.

I forgot it.

Mist.

Forget to wash 'em another morning, and I'l scour 'em for you with a good Rod.

Harl.

Ha! ha! he!

Mist.

Out, you great sloven; come to School with dirtyhands!

Harl.

Euh, Signiora! well enough, well enough.

[Page]Mist.

Well enough! but let me sind it so agen, and it shall be ill enough with you.

Harl.

Mayn't a Philosopher have dirty-hands?

Mist.

Look I see't no more so.

Harl.

What does Mrs. Philosopher concern her self so with my hands, for?

Mist.

Come, let me hear you say your Lesson now. Shut your Book, say over the Alphabet, begin.

Harl.

A, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, k, l, m, n, p.

Mist.

N, p! what's the next letter to N?

Harl.

P.

Mist.

P, agen? there's the second fault; hold out your hand.

Harl.

My hand?

Mist.

Hold it out to receive instruction, thus; so, now look on the top of the house, and see what letter sticks on the Seeling.

He holds out his hand, she hits him with a Ferrula.

Harl.

O!

Mist.

O then is the next letter, l, m, n, o. This, I see, will make you a Scholar.

Harl.

I find 'tis as Mr. Doctore said, she's a profound Philosopher.

Mist.

N, O, P; then go on.

Harl.

N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, W, X, Y, Z.

Mist.

How, open your Book, and read.

Harl.

A, b, ab, e, b, eb, i, b, ib, o, b, ob, u, b, ub. B, a, ab.

Mist.

How's that? b, a, spell ab?

Harl.

Yes.

Mist.

A, b, spells ab; B, a, spells—what? what says the Sheep?

Harl.

What says a Sheep? Ha! ha! ha! he!

Mist.

What says the Sheep?

Harl.

The Sheep says—Ha! ha! he! nothing can a Sheep speak.

Mist.

Did you never hear a Sheep cry Ba?

Harl.

Ba? yes.

Mist.

Well then, B, a, spells Ba; this is the third fault▪ Come, a sound whipping will quicken your apprehension.

Harl.

Ha, ha, he.

Mist.

I am glad to see you so chearful; come, put your head through the back o'this Chair.

[Page]Harl.

What means Mrs. Phisosopher?

Mist.

Come down, down, I say—

Hits his hand with a Rod▪

Harl.

Eh,—Eh,—Mrs. Philosopher.

Mist.

How long must I stand waiting on you? Down, down, I say.

Hits him agen.

Harl.

Eh,—Eh,—Mrs. Philosopher.—

Mist.

Down with your head.—

Hits him agen.

Harl.

Eh, Eh.

Mist.

So, children, one of you untruss his Points quickly.

Harl.

Ha, whipt! whip a Philosopher? Eh,—Eh,—Mrs. Philosopher, Mrs. Philosopher.

Mist.

Untruss, untruss, does he resist; here, every one of you take a Rod, and help me.

Whips his hand.

Harl. puts his head through the back o'the Chair, lifts it up, runs about the Room with it hanging on his neck; all the children take Rods, and, with the Mistress, run about the Stage whipping him. He runs out, the Scene shuts.

Harl.

Eh,—Eh,—Eh, Signiora Mrs. Philosopher, Signiora▪ Mrs. Philosopher. Eh, Eh, Eh.—

Exeunt.

Enter Harlequin.

Harl.

Whipt! a Pox o' Mrs. Philosopher. Whipt! Devil take Mrs. Philosopher. O! here comes Signior Scaramouch; I'l go and consult with him. Signior Scaramouch!

Enter Scaramouch.

Scar.

Harlequin!

Harl.

Signior Scaramouch, I am disgusted with the affairs o'the World, and resolve to apply my self to other things. I have a desire to be a Philosopher.

Scar.

A Philosopher?

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

Hola!—within there! Prepare▪ the habit of a Novitiate; go, go, into the Hall, and they'l put you on the habit of a Novitiate.

Harl.

A Novitiate! no, no, of a Philosopher.

Scar.

Of a Philosopher of the first Class.

[Page]Harl.

First Class! what's that?

Scar.

Of a Novice.

Harl.

O ho! of the Sect of the Novice Philosopher.

Goes into the house, and re-enters.

Scar.

Go, 'tis ready for you. So, now you have assum'd the Robes of a Philosopher, 'tis requisite your mind shou'd be invested too with the habits of a Philosopher.

Enter Harl. in a great Gown of Mat, with Hanging-sleeves of the same, and a broad Straw-hat, with one half of the brim pull'd under his chin, parting from the head.

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

The habits then requisite for the mind are these.

Harl.

By the way, one word, I pray, Signior Scaramouch; are the habits of the mind for a Philosopher, made of the same stuff as the habits of his body? Methinks this shou'd be a little too coarse for the in-side.

Scar.

A habit is a certain▪ facility added to our power, and helping it to act.—As for example,—a—

Harl.

A certain facility!

Scar.

As for example.

Harl.

A certain [...]a,—

Scar.

Eh! As for example, a Rope-dancer, who by often practising to dance upon a Rope, grows at last expert, and does it with ease.

Harl.

So I, by often wearing my new Shooes—

Scar.

What?

Harl.

Wore 'em out.

Scar.

Euh,—Peuh.—

Harl.

Signior Scaramouch, hear me now: A habit is a certain facility added to our power, and helping it to act. As for example, a Rope-dancer, who by often dancing upon the Rope, at last breaks his neck with case▪

Scar.

O stupidity! the principal vertues requisite in a Philosopher, are Patience, Temperance, Sobriety and Chastity; the first is Patience, he must not be provoked to anger.

Harl.

If I am struck by any one, may I not strike agen?

Scar.

No.

Harl.

No! If a Mule kick me, may I not kick agen?

Scar.

No.

Harl.

No! I'l be no Philosopher.

Throws off his Gown.

Scar.

Not unless you can kick harder than him.

[Page]Harl.

O ho! then if any one strike me▪ I may strike agen, if I think I can beat him. Cud-so! I find there's reason in Philosophy.

Scar.

The next is Temperance; a Philosopher must be temperate, he must not eat much.

Harl.

Not eat much?

Scar.

No, eating dulls the brain.

Harl.

Not eat much!

Scar.

No.

Harl.

No! I'l be no Philosopher.

Scar.

Not much Mutton, or Beef, nor such gross meat, but good Capons,—Partridg,—and Pheasant.—

Harl.

O ho! Pray go on.

Scar.

The next is Sobriety; a Philosopher must not be drunk, nor given to drink.

Harl.

Mayn't a Philosopher drink?

Scar.

Not much.

Harl.

No, I'l be no Philosopher.

Scar.

Unless.

Harl.

No, no, unless I may drink as much as I please, I'l be no Philosopher.

Scar.

No Philosopher!

Harl.

No, I love good Wine.

Scar.

You must not drink sour, naughty, crude Wines, but the best you can get; as Monti-Pulchino, Montifiasco, and Florence Wines.

Harl.

O ho!

Scar▪

Be sure the Wine you drink, be good.

Harl.

O, I'm of your opinion, Signior; I find I shall soon be a Philosopher, because I come of the kind; my Mother was a Philosopher; for the knew what was good for her; she always kept the best for her self.

Scar.

The last is, Chastity; you must not run after Women.

Harl.

Nor mayn't they come to me?

Scar.

No.

Harl.

I'l be no Philosopher.

Scar.

Hold.

Harl.

Mayn't I lye with them neither?

Scar.

No.

[Page]Harl.

I'l be no Philosopher.

Scar.

Not unless you are marri'd▪

Harl.

Not unless I am marri'd!

Scar.

And then too with great moderation.

Harl.

I'l be no Philosopher.

Scar.

Hold.

Harl.

Mayn't I now and then, when I've got Money, go to a Wench?

Scar.

No.

Harl.

Not if I'm sure she be sound?

Scar.

Upon no account.

Harl.

No; I'l be no Philosopher, I'l be no Philosopher.

Scar.

Hold, hold, hold.

Harl.

No, no; I'l be no Philosopher, no Philosopher; I'l be no Philosopher.

Ex.

Scar.

Euh! Que Bestia, Bruto, Animale.

Ex.

Enter Harlequin, Plautino, Cynthio, Octav.

Harl.

Philosopher; a Pox take Philosophers; I'l be no more a Philosopher: Not to go to a Wench! Eh, he, he.

Plaut.

He's here.

Harl.

Eh, Signior Octavio, here!

Cynt.

Nay, you can't avoid us now.

Harl.

Euh, Signior, I demand pardon.

Falls on's knees.

Plaut.

Harlequin, you must along with me, now is the time for you to shew your Parts.

Harl.

Euh, Signior Octavio; I demand pardon.

Plaut.

Come, think of my instructions, and let's see how well you can perform, after the pains I have taken with you.

Oct.

My dear Harlequin, listen to his discourse.

Harl.

Ah ha! now, dear Harlequin, now you have need of me.

Starts up, and walks huffing about.

Oct.

Go, I pardon all thou hast confest, and worse yet, if thou hast don't.

Harl.

No, Signior, no; don't pardon me, run me through, kill me; I shall tak't for an Honour to dye by so noble a hand.

Oct.

No, Merit rewards by being assistant to my love.

Harl.

No, Signior, kill me; Signior, kill me.

[Page]Oct.

I'l forget thou ever didst offend me.

Harl.

Kill me, Signior, kill me.

Oct.

I'l never be angry with thee hereafter, do what thou wilt.

Harl.

Kill me, Signior, kill me.

Oct.

No, I have too great a love for thee, my poor dear Harlequin; come, be good natur'd.

Harl.

To surprise me, and so to affront me.

Cynt.

Come, come, forget and forgive.

Harl.

To call me so many Rogues and Villains.

Oct.

It was my passion.

Harl.

To offer to run your Sword down my throat.

Plaut.

Eh, Harlequin.

Harl.

To make me bring to light the secrets that had long lain buri'd under the Tombstone of my heart.—

Oct.

I am sorry for't.

Harl.

To make me discover what I had sworn never to reveal.—

Oct.

I ask thee pardon, my dear Harlequin be pacifi'd, take pitty of a poor Lover,

Cynt.

This ought to mollify.

Harl.

Well, you'l never take me to Confession agen?—

Oct.

No.

Harl.

Nor kill me?

Oct.

No.

Harl.

Nor run me through?

Oct.

No.

Harl.

Nor thrust your Sword down my throat?

Oct.

No.

Harl.

Well then, I pardon you.

Plaut.

Go then, prepare to come forth with all speed; all things are in readiness, be gone.

Harl.

Allagre, Signior Octavio, Allagre.

Ex.

Plaut.

O, here comes Signior Pancrace chewing the cud; be gone, and leave me to proceed in my Enterprise. Take care of my reserve, and hasten him into the field.

Exeunt.

Enter Pancrace.

Panc.

T' have so little conduct and consideration, to throw [Page] himself into such a snare as this!—O! the unadvisedness of youth!

Plaut.

Sir, your Servant.

Panc.

How do you, Plautino?

Plaut.

You are thinking of your Son.

Panc.

It gives me no small trouble.

Plaut.

Life is full of changes; it is good always to be prepar'd for the worst.

Panc.

I cou'd ha' born any thing but this.

Plaut,

Every one can bear the evils which might have hapned; but 'tis the part of a Philosopher to master his Temper, and command his Passions in the evils which do happen.

Panc.

I'l tell you, Mr. Plautino, nothing but this cou'd have mov'd me:—This is a thing;—Well, I'm just going to Counsel about it, to know how to remedy it.

Plaut.

Pray hearken to me, Signior Pancrace; try some other way to adjust the business, you are not ignorant that Law requires much sawce, and you will hang your self upon dangerous Tenters.

Panc.

You are in the right; but pray what is that other way?

Plaut.

I went and found out the Brother of this young Woman your Son has marri'd; he is by profession a Bravo, one that lives by cutting of throats; he never speaks without an Oath in's mouth, and makes no more scruple to kill a man, than to blow out the snuff of a Candle. I discours'd him upon the Marriage, and found him reasonably inclin'd to accommodate the business for a certain Sum of Money; and provided he may have it, he's contented to suffer a Divorce.

Panc.

What is't he demands?

Plaut.

Oh! 'tis very considerable.

Panc.

But what?

Plaut.

Extravagant things.

Panc.

Well, let me hear?

Plaut.

Nothing under 5 or 600 Pistols.

Panc.

Five or 600 l evors and Quartan-Agues seize him! he does it to jeer us.

Plaut.

So I told him I wou'd not give ear to such a Proposition, and said that you was not a man of that easy temper to be whistled out of your Money: After a long debate, the result [Page] was this;—I am, says he, in a short time, to go to the Army in Flanders; I must be well accoutred, and have need of Money, which makes me consent to what otherwise I shou'd not hearken to: I want a good serviceable Horse for the Wars, which will not cost less than threescore Pistols.

Panc.

Well, threescore Pistols shall break no squares.

Plaut.

I shall want too, says he, a Sword, Pistols, Scarf and Feather; which will cost at least thirty Pistols more.

Panc.

Thirty and threescore, make fourscore and ten.

Plaut.

Just.

Panc.

'Tis a great Sum, but for once I'l be content, because you advise me.

Plaut.

I shall want too, says he, a Horse for my Man, which will cost thirty Pistols.

Panc.

A Horse for his Man?

Plaut.

Yes.

Panc.

Let him walk a-foot, and be hang'd! a Horse for his Man! Pox on him, he shall have none.

Plaut.

But, Sir?

Panc.

No, he's an impertinent Rascal! A Horse for his Man!

Plaut.

Auh, fye, Sir! what, wou'd you have the Servant [...] a Cavalier go a-foot?

Panc.

E'ne let him go as he please, and the Master too. A Horse for his Man!

Plaut.

Come, Sir, ne'r stick out for so small a matter; don't go to intangle your self in Law: give it, give it, to save the trouble of going to Law.

Panc.

Ha, well;—Since you will have it so, I will. But he's a Rogue! a great Rogue! a Horse for his Man! a Pox on him; they shall neither of 'em have one for me.

Plaut.

Signior Pancrace; a Philosopher, and recall his words!

Panc.

Well then, Signior Plautino, because I said it, I'l stand to't.

Plaut.

I must have too, says he, a Sumpter-Horse to carry—

Panc.

O! let him go to the Devil with his Sumpter-Horse, I'l to Law.

Plaut▪

Ah! consider, Sir!

Panc.

No, no Sumpter-Horse.

[Page]Plaut.

What, not a little Mule?

Panc.

No, I'l to Law.

Plaut.

Consider, Signior Pancrace.

Panc.

No, no, I'l to Law.

Plaut.

Ah! not a little paltry Mule?

Panc.

I'l to Law, I'l to Law.

Plaut.

Of some 8 or 10 Pistols price.

Panc.

No, no, 3 or 4 Crowns it may be, to buy him a little Ass.

Plaut.

What, Sir; an Ass to carry his Luggage to the Wars?

Panc.

Then I'l to Law.

Plaut.

No, pray don't talk of going to Law: there will be Money for Declarations, Pleas, Answers, Rejoynders, Sub-Rejoynders, Demurs, Motions, Non-Suits, and Removing from one Court to another: Then your Appeals. Eh!—if once you entangle your self, you'l sooner see the end of your Estate, than of your Suit of Law.

Panc.

And what, I pray, will this Sumpter-Beast cost?

Plaut.

For his Horse, his Man's, and the Sumpter-Horse; and for the Pistols, Sword, Scarf and Feather, with Bridles, Saddles, and other Furniture, and to pay some dribling Debts which he owes to his Landlady, Laundress, and so forth; he demands in all, 200 Pistols.

Panc.

Two hundred Pistols?

Plaut.

Yes.

Panc.

Two hundred Pistols. I'l to Law, to Law.

Plaut.

Bethink your self.

Panc.

I'l to Law.

Plaut.

Don't embroil your self.

Panc.

I say I'l to Law.

Plaut.

You must spend a world of Money in Law; you must give the Clerks Expedition-Money, pay for Writing, Drawing, Engrossing, Copying, Sealing, Endorsing, and all several Charges. Then for Fees in Court, Judges Fees, King's Duties. Then, Sir, what's most requisite of all, Bribing of Judges: your Adversary too does the like. So that after all, 'tis but Cross and Pile who gets the better. O! Signior Pancrace, Law-expences are numberless; give this Fellow his Money, and there's an end; 'tis easier to satisfy one Rogue than a thousand.

Panc.

Give him 200 Pistols!

[Page]Plaut.

Yes, and be a gainer by't. I've cast up what a Suit of Law amounts to; and I find, that giving him 200 Pistols, will save you five; not reckoning your trouble, pains, vexations, going, waiting, sending, fetching and carrying, and following a company of busy Coxcombs, who will but laugh at you when you ha' done. I wou'd rather give 500 Pistols than go to Law, tho I were sure to get the better.

Panc.

Laugh at the learn'd, I defy 'em.

Plaut.

Signior Pancrace, you may do as you please; but were it to me, I'd give 200 Pistols, and laugh at them.

Panc.

No, I'l to Law, I'l to Law.

Plaut.

Here comes the Gentleman himself.

Enter Harlequin in the habit of a Bravo, with a huge Sword, and a Girdle stuck round with Pistols and Daggers, which are discover'd by▪ his Cloak falling off;—and Rosy-Cheeks, with great Whiskers.

Harl.

Signior Plautino, carry me to this Dog of a Dr. to this damn'd Heathen Philosopher, this old Rogue, the Father of Cynthio.

Plaut.

For what, Signiot Cavalier?

Harl.

I hear he's for going to Law, and for getting a Divorce against my Sister! I'l divorce him! I'l divorce his Soul from his Body!

Plaut.

I know not whether he intends any such thing.

Harl.

I hear he does, carry me to him; I'l make a Woodcock of the Philosopher. Pick a hole in his Skull, and sup up his Brains for my Breakfast.

Plaut.

He'd make no more to do't, than to sup off a RawEgg. I heard indeed he will not consent to give you 200 Pistols, he says 'tis too much.

To Pancrace behind him.

Harl.

Death, and Heart! if I find him, I'll dissect him; tho I'm broken alive upon the Wheel as soon as 'tis done.

Plaut.

Signior Pancrace is a man of Resolution, and perhaps does not fear you, nor any man that wears a head.

Harl.

He,—he not fear me! Death, and Heart! if I find him, with this Sword I'l rip him from the Belly up to the Chin. Who'! is he there?

[Page]Plaut.

O Signior! that's none of him, that's none of him.

Harl.

Nor no Friend of his?

Plrut.

On the contrary, the greatest enemy he has.

Harl.

I am glad o'that of my Soul: Signior, are you an enemy to that Logical, Moral, Phisical, Meta-phisical Philosopher? that Syllogistical Dunder▪ noll Doctor? Ounds! are you his enemy? ha!

Plaut.

Yes, Signior; I'l assure you he is.

Harl.

Give me thy hand then, old Trojan; I swear to thee by my Reputation, by ten thousand Devils, and all their Dams, before two days are at an end, I'l whet my Sword upon the bones of him. Therefore fet your heart at rest, and let me alone to revenge all; I'l send his Soul to the Devil, throw his Carkass to the Dogs, and bring you his Brains in a Mustard pot; Damnation! I will Boy!—Eh!—

Plaut.

Such things are not suffer'd here.

Harl.

Ounds! I'm a Souldierly Philosopher, and carry all my wealth about me; my Sword is my Plough, and another Countrey will serve for Tillage as well as this.—For the death of him I will be, tho his Soul, by transmigration, goes presently into a wild Bull, and he bears me away upon his Horns.

Plaut.

He has heard of your threatning, and will be upon his guard; he has many Friends, Acquaintance, and Servants, that will desend him.

Harl.

Let 'em come, let 'em come, a thousand of 'em; 'tis what I desire. S'death!—Heart!—and Ounds!—Oh! that he were but here now, in the midst of twenty friends and all their Swords in their hands; Eh,—you Rogues, you Dogs, come on! Allone! Morblieu! Sa, sa; Kill, kill; no quarter; Slash,—cut, thrust,—kill,—stand fast;—Eh! you cowardly Rogues, you Dogs, you Sons of Whores! Have at you,—at you,—at you,—at you,—at you! Do you give ground? Stand fast, you Dogs; fast! Ha!—Eh!—

Pushes on all sides with his Sword.

Plaut.

Eh!—Eh!—Eh!—We are none of 'em, Sir.

Harl.

Ha! do you rally agen? are there more of you? Have amongst you!

Shoots.

There's for you! Thus wou'd I ha' serv'd 100 of 'em.

Ex.

Plaut.

You see how many throats he'd cut for 200 Pistols. I wish you were well out of this business.

[Page]Panc.

Plautino.

Plaut.

Signior.

Panc.

He shall have 200 Pistols.

Plaut.

I am glad on't, for your sake.

Panc.

Call him, I have so much about me.

Plaut.

Give 'em me, 'twill not be for your Honour to see him, now you have past for another; and I fear, if he shou'd get you in his power, he wou'd stand upon greater matters.

Panc.

Hold your hand, but take care my business be done fore you part from my Money.

Plaut.

I warrant you.

Panc.

I'l go home and expect your coming; be sure you see it done.

Ex.

Plaut.

Trouble not your self, I'l bring you a good account how I part from't.—So, here's one Bird catch'd in chaff.

Enter Cynthio.

Cynt.

Have you done any thing to the comfort of a poor Lover?

Plaut.

See, there are 200 drops of your Father's heartsblood.

Cynt.

Witty Plautino, what comfort thou giv'st me! Come, let's haste to purchase what I value more than life. Now! my lov'd Zerbinetta! thou art mine!

Exeunt.

Enter Scaramouch and Harlequin.

Scar.

Octavio comes not yet near me; 'tis so,—he has done something;—I'l go find him out, and make him confess the business.

Harl.

O, Signior Philosopher! O, Signior Scaramouch!

Scar.

What, what?

Harl.

Your Son.

Scar.

Well, my Son.

Harl.

Has the greatest misfortune befallen him; alas poor Mr. Octavio.

Scar.

What? ha!

Harl.

I sound him in a very melancholly mood, for something you had said to him; and to divert his thoughts, we took a [Page] walk to the Sea-side; where, amongst other things, I saw a Fisherman going out; we went a-board for pastime, to see some sport. When we were a league off at Sea, a small Vessel made up to us; we suspected nothing, but when they came they boarded us; took us all out of the Fisher-man, and clapt us under Hatches.

Scar.

Octavio too?

Harl.

Signior si, they were Pyrats, Runagado-Rogues; they have sent me a-shoar in a long-Boat, to tell you that if you don't immediately send 'em 500 Dollers, they'l carry your Son away to Algiers.

Scar.

Five hundred Dollers?

Harl.

Yes, and have allow'd me but two hours for my return.

Scar.

What a murrain made him go a fishing?

Harl.

Eh,—Signior Scaramouch; a Philosopher can bear injuries as he ought.

Scar.

They demand, you say—

Harl.

Five hundred Dollers.

Scar.

Think they that's a Sum one wou'd be content to part from?

Harl.

They are great fools.

Scar.

And that I have nothing to do with my Money but to send it to them?

Harl.

Pyrats, Signior, are a sort of folks that don't understand Philosophy.

Scar.

Four hundred Dollars, say you?

Harl.

Five hundred, Signior.

Scar.

Five hundred?

Harl.

Yes Sir, but make hast. Hold your hand. Go and ransom my Son.

He holds the Purse, and talks, which he does not let go, and carries his arm from one side to t'other. Harl. does the like.

Harl.

Yes Sir.

Scar.

But tell these Pyrats that they are Rascals.

Harl.

Yes.

Scar.

Rogues.

Harl.

Yes.

Scar.

Great Rogues, Thieves, Cut-throats.

Harl.

Let me alone.

Scar.

They get these 500 Dollers from me against my will.

Harl.

Yes.

[Page]Scar.

And which I wou'd not ha' given them to save their lives.

Harl.

Very good.

Scar.

And that if ever it lies in my power, I'l be reveng'd.

Harl.

Yes.

Scar.

Go make hast, and bring my Son a-shoar.

Puts the Purse in's pocket, and is going away.

Harl.

But, Signior.

Scar.

What?

Harl.

Where's the Money?

Scar.

Han't you't.

Harl.

Not I, you put it up agen in your pocket.

Scar.

I know not what I do, I'm so vext.

Harl.

Twou'd vex a man—

Scar.

What a murrain made him go a fishing?

Ex.

Harl.

Ha! ha! he! Signior Philosopher!

Enter Octavio.

Oct.

Harlequin.

Harl.

Signior Philosopher; Ha! ha! he!

Oct.

I find thou hast good news, thou art so merry?

Harl.

Signior, no.

Oct.

Can'st thou do nothing for me?

Harl.

Signior, no.

Oct.

Must I then despair?

Harl.

I have done all I can.

Oct.

Do'st thou give me comfort?

Harl.

Signior, no; the Stars are unlucky.

Oct.

I will then find out a place for my retreat; lye down, and sigh away my life.

Harl.

Stay, Signior Octavio, here's luck in a bag for you.

Oct.

Thou shewest me life, health, and all.

Harl.

How, call me names, and run your Sword down my throat!

Oct.

No more of that, I have forgot it.

Oct.

I part with this Money, on condition that you give me leave to be reveng'd on Signior Scaramouch, for what he said of me.

Oct.

Do as thou wilt.

[Page]Harl.

There then's your Sum.

Oct.

I'l hast to tell Aurelia this good news.

Ex.

Harl.

And I to be reveng'd on Signior Philosopher.

Ex.

Enter Pancrace and Spittzaferro.

Spitt.

So affected with Gallantry! such a Lover of Balls, Masques, and other Divertisements! I have been all this while mistaken in her humour, I'l not concern my self at what she does, or where she goes! can this be wholsome to a Husband's Reputation! Well, I will hear what the learned will say on this point. And first, I'l consult with Signior Pancracio.

Panc.

Go, go friend, you are very impertinent, and ought to be banish'd the Republick of Letters.

Spitt.

Oh! here he cames to my purpose.

Panc.

Yes, and not without very good reason: I say you are a Dunce, a Blockhead, an Ignorant; an Ignorantior, an Ignorantissimus, an Ignorantissimetissimus, an Ignoramus per omnes Casus, Moods and Tenses.

Spitt.

He has been wrangling with somebody in a Disputation▪ Signior.

Panc.

You will be arguing, and know not so much as the very Rudiments of Learning.

Spitt.

Passion blinds him so, he sees me not, Signior.

Panc.

'Tis a Proposition condemn'd, confuted, rejected by all Philosophers both Ancient and Modern.

Spitt.

Somebody has much incens'd him,—I—

Panc.

Toto Coelo, Toto via aberras.

Spitt.

I kiss your hands, Signior Pancrace.

Panc.

Servant, Servant.

Spitt.

Can I—

Panc.

Do you know what you have done! A Syllogism in Bocardo.

Spitt.

I desire—

Panc.

The Major's absurd, the Minor's impertinent, and the Conclusion ridiculous.

Spitt.

I desi—

Panc.

I'd sooner dye than grant what you say, and I'l defend my opinion to the last drop of my Ink.

Spitt.

Can I—

[Page]Panc.

Yes, I'l defend this Proposition; [...]gunis & calcibus, unguibus & rostro.

Spitt.

Signior Aristotle, pray what has so incens'd you?

Panc.

I have all the reason in the World.

Spitt.

Pray what was't?

Panc.

An illiterate Blockhead, wou'd maintain an erronious Proposition; a false, damnable, destructive, execrable Proposition.

Spitt.

May I beg leave to know what 'twas?

Panc.

Ah! Signior Spittzaferro, nature is this day reverst, and the World is falling to a general decay, a most shameful License reigns every where, and the Magistrates who are establisht to take care of the Publick, ought to blush for shame, in suffering such a horrible and intolerable Scandal as this.

Spitt.

What, pray?

Panc.

Is it not a most horrible thing, a thing that cries to Heaven for vengeance, that it shou'd be suffer'd, for a man publickly to cry the form of a Hat?

Spitt.

How's that?

Panc.

I maintain that a man ought to say the figure of a Hat, and not the form; yes, not forma, but figura; for there is this difference betwixt form and figure, that the form is the external disposition of animate Bodies; the figure is the external dispositions of Bodies inanimate: It ought to be said, the figure of a Hat, and not the form. Go-to, Dunce as thou art, this is the truth of the thing, these are the express terms of Aristotle, in his Chapter of Quality.

Spitt.

Marry, I thought we had been all undone! Come, Signior Pancrace, think no more of this; I have a business to impart to you. I desire—

Panc.

O, impertinent Blockhead!

Spitt.

Pray forget it. I desi—

Panc.

Dunce.

Spitt.

I beseech you, Sir,—I—de—

Panc.

To defend against me such a Proposition as this.

Spitt.

He was in the wrong,—I—

Panc.

A Proposition condem'd by Aristotle.

Spitt.

That's true,—I—

Panc.

In express terms—

Spitt.

Y'are in the right; yes,—you are a Fool, a Dunce, an [Page] Ouff, a Sot, a Blockhead, to dispute against a Learn'd Doctor that can both write and read,—So now the business is over, I desire you'd give me your attention; I come to consult with you about a business which very much puzzles me, I have thoughts of Marrying, to have a Companion in the business of the World; the person is handsome, and I like her very well: she thinks her self a happy Woman to have me for a Husband; her Father and I are agreed: But I'm a little startled at a thing that you may guess—of a blow that a man never feels when 'tis given him. And I desire you, as being a Philosopher, to tell me your opinion. How, what do you advise me too?

Panc.

Sooner than I wou'd accord to say the form of a Hat, I wou'd be brought to affirm, that datur vacuum in rerum natura; and that I am not a Man, but a Vegetable, a Plant, or a four footed Beast.

Spitt.

Doubtless he's possest; Mr. Doctor, pray hear me a little; I have been speaking to you this half hour, and you don't mind what I say.

Panc.

I beg your pardon, I am so incens'd when I hear the truth oppugn'd.

Spitt.

Well, Sir, forget it, and give me your attention.

Panc.

Very good;—what wou'd you with me, good Signior Spittzaferro?

Spitt.

I wou'd speak to you concerning a business.

Panc.

In what, Idiom?

Spitt.

Idiom!

Panc.

In what Language wou'd you discourse; in French?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Spanish?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Dutch?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

English?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Latin?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Greek?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Hebrew?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Syriack?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Arabick?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Chaldea?

Spitt.

No.

Panc.

Turkish?

Spitt.

No, no, no; in Italian, in Italian.

Panc.

Oh! in Italian?

Spitt.

Yes.

[Page]Panc.

Go then on t'other side, for this ear is destin'd only to Scientifical Languages; and this for my Mother-tongue.

Spitt.

What a deal of Ceremony there is with these Learn'd Men.

Panc.

Well, now tell me what you wou'd have?

Spitt.

I wou'd have your opinion concerning a difficulty.

Panc.

A Philosophical difficulty, without doubt.

Spitt.

Excuse me,—I—

Panc.

Perhaps you wou'd know if Substance and Accident be terms synonimus, or equivocal, in respect of being.

Spitt.

Not at all, Signior.

Panc.

If Logick be an Art or a Science?—

Spitt.

Not that neither I—

Panc.

If it has for its objects the three operations of the understanding, or only the third?

Spitt.

No,—I—

Pauc.

If there be ten Categories, or only one?

Spitt.

Not I—I—

Panc.

If the Conclusion be of the Essence of eight Syllogisms.

Spitt.

No, no,—I.

Aanc.

If the essence of good consists in the Appetibility, that is in being desirable, or in being convenient?

Spitt.

No, that I—

Panc.

If good be reciprocal with the end?

Spitt.

Peu! Ho! I—

Panc.

If the end can move us by its real being, or by the intentional, that is, by the being it has in our apprehensions?

Spitt.

No, no, no, a Pox o'the Devil; none of all this.

Panc.

Explain your self then, for I can't guess what 'tis.

Spitt.

Aye, Aye, Signior, I wou'd explain my self; but you must hear me then: The business that I wou'd discourse with you about, is this: That I have some thoughts of Marrying a Gentlewoman, that is young and handsome, and one who has a kindness for me; and I have ask'd her Fathers consent. But now I apprehend—

They speak together.

Panc.

Speech is given to a man

At the same time.

to explain his thoughts; and just as thoughts are the representations of things, so are our words the representations of our thoughts. But those representations are distinguish'd from [Page] others, in-as-much as other representations are altogether distinguish'd from their originals; and words include in themselves their originals, they being nothing else but the thoughts explicated by external signs; from whence it comes, that those who think well, do also speak well. Now therefore explain your thoughts to me by your words, which are, of all signs, the most intelligible.

Spittz. pushes the Doctor into his house, and returns.

Spittz.

The Devil take all such folks as won't hear a man speak: I'l go find out the other Philosopher; he perhaps may be more reasonable, and less talkative.

Panc. comes out agen, and Spittz. pushes him in.

Panc.

Now, Aristotle says there is this difference—

Spitt.

Are you there agen with your Aristotle? Go, your Master Aristotle's a Fool, and you are an Ass.

Exeunt.

The End of the third Act.

Act IV. Scene I.

[Page]

Enter Aurelia, Zerbinetta, and Plautino.

Plaut.

YES, it was the desire of your Lovers, that you shou'd be acquainted; besides our design requires it.

Aur.

I find nothing in their desires, but what is very agreeable; and 'tis not without a great deal of joy that I receive so fair an acquaintance: Nothing shall be wanting in me to perfect a friendship, that shall render us dear to each other.

Zerb.

To me the Proposition is most pleasing. But, Signior Negotiator, pray give us an account by what stratagem you drew the Money from the covetous old Fathers of our Lovers?

Aur.

Yes, and how your wits are employ'd for a supply. Signior Octavio had the hard fortune to be Arrested just then.

Zerb.

Do, I love roguery at my heart;—and you shall find by my countenance, that you don't tell it to one insensible of ingenuity.

Plaut.

O! here comes Signior Octavio in hast; we have no leisure now.

Enter Octavio.

Oct.

The enemy's at hand.

Plaut.

We'l leave you the Field to deal with him I have instructed; Madam Aurelia, come; whilst they play their Game, I'l entertain you with the relation of what you have a desire to hear; which, I'm sure, will be diversion enough for so short a time.

Ex. Plaut. and Zerb.

Enter Spittzaferro.

Spitt.

This Philosopher was very impertinent and talkative:—I'l now consult.—Ha!—who's this discoursing with Aurelia?

[Page]Oct.

How, Fair Aurelia! do you speak this in earnest?

Aur.

In very good earnest.

Oct.

Will you Marry, then?

Aur.

Yes.

Oct.

And to morrow?

Aur.

Yes, to morrow.

Oct.

And can you (Fair, cruel One) abandon me and my vows; and forget all the obliging protestations you have made to me?

Aur.

I marry, one not for Love, but Money, a thing which I want, and you have not; and you know well enough how the World goes with them that want Money, that must be had whatever it cost. And I take this opportunity to set my heart at ease; my Husband is a man that can't live very long, I warrant you I shall be a Rich Widow in a year or two, and then I shal be able to make you amends for the injury.

Oct.

Is this the Gentleman?

Aur.

Yes, this is the Gentleman that is to be my Husband?

Oct.

Signior, I wish you much joy of your Marriage, and dedicate my noblest Services to you; I assure you, you wed a Lady of great Beauty, and eminent Perfections: And to you also, Madam, I wish all happiness imaginable; you have made an excellent Choice; He has the mein of a worthy Person, and the looks of one in all things adapted for a good Husband. Signior, I desire your friendship, we'l keep a good correspondence, we'l visit, and see one another daily.

Aur.

You do us both so great an honour, we shall always be glad of your good company.

Oct.

And I shall be extreme glad to see you and your noble Bridegroom at Court, where I have interest, and can be able to serve you.

Aur.

I will be often there when I am Married.

Oct.

Madam, your Creature and Slave. And Signior, your Vassal and Humble Servant.

Exit.

Aur.

Signior Spittzaferro, this young Gentleman is a Courtier, he will do you any service there for my sake: But we'l talk more on't another time. I'm still busy about my affairs. Your Servant, Signior.—To morrow,—to morrow.

Ex.

Spitt.

To morrow, to morrow; the sound has something in't that is doleful; my mind gives no good prognosticks of this [Page] Marriage; I'l hear the opinion of Signior Scaramouch. Hola! Signior Scaramouch?

Knocks.

Enter Scaramouch.

Scar.

What is your pleasure with me, Signior Spittzaferro?

Spitt.

Signior Scaramouch, I want your advice in a small concern, and I am come on purpose to be resolv'd in my doubts:—O! this is well; here's one will hearken to a man.

Scar.

Signior Spittzaferro; pray alter your positive manner of speaking. Our Philosophy teaches us not to speak any decisive Proposition, but to discourse of every thing with uncertainty, to suspend always one judgment. And for this reason you ought not to say, I am come, but—I think I am come;—or,—it seems to me I am come.

Spitt.

Seems to me, or, I think?

Scar.

Yes.

Spitt.

Seems to me, it may well seem to me, that I am come, when I am here.

Scar.

That is no good consequence; for that may seem, or appear to a man, which in reality is not.

Spitt.

Why, am not I come hither when I am here?

Scar.

That's uncertain, we can be sure of nothing, and therefore ought to doubt of every thing.

Spitt.

What, am not I here, and are not you talking to me?

Scar.

It seems to me that you are here, and I think that I am talking to you; but yet I am not certain that it is so.

Spitt.

Euh! what a Devil, don't I know't, and don't you know't well enough, that it not only seems so, or appears so, but that it is certainly so?

Scar.

Nego, nego, we are sure of nothing; and to convince you that we can have no certain knowledg, let me tell you,—there is nothing in the intellect but what was first in the senses, and by them conveyd to the understanding. Now, our senses being fallible, the knowledg which depend upon them, cannot be infallible, and so not certain: Ergo, Signior, you don't know for certain that you are here.

[Page]Spitt.

Pray don't stand upon these niceties, but let us talk of our business. I come to acquaint you that I have thoughts of Marrying.

Scar.

That's more than I know.

Spitt.

I tell you, I have.

Scar.

It may be you do.

Spitt.

The Gentlewoman is very pretty, and very young.

Scar.

Very likely.

Spitt.

Will it be discreetly done of me to Marry, or not?

Scar.

It may, and it may not.

Spitt.

Eh! what canting is this! I ask you, Signior, if I shall do well to marry the Lady I speak of?

Scar.

As it happens.

Spitt.

Will it be ill done of me?

Scar.

Peradventure I, peradventure no.

Spitt.

For Heaven-sake, Signior, answer me as you shou'd.

Scar.

'Tis my endeavour.

Spitt.

I have a very great kindness for the Gentlewoman.

Scar.

That may be.

Spitt.

Her Father and I are agreed.

Scar.

Perhaps you may.

Spitt.

But I am only affraid, that if I marry, I shall be a Cuckold.

Scar.

'Tis not impossible.

Spitt.

What think you?

Scar.

Not unlikely.

Spitt.

Shall I, think you?

Scar.

Such things have been.

Spitt.

What wou'd you do, were you in my place?

Scar.

I can't tell.

Spitt.

What wou'd you advise me to?

Scar.

What you think best.

Spitt.

But what do you think best?

Scar.

What pleases you.

Spitt.

Peu! a Pox!—and is that all?

Scar.

I'l have no hand in't.

Spitt.

——

Scar.

Let it be as 'twill.

Spitt.

Euh! the Devil! I'l make you change your note, with a Pox to you! you Philosophical Blockhead.

Beats Scaramouch.

[Page]Scar.

Ah! ah! ah!

Spitt.

I am quit with you for your canting, and I'm satisfi'd.

Scar.

Whence this insolence! how dare you have the audacity to strike a Philosopher!

Spitt.

O, pray correct this manner of speaking; you ought to doubt of every thing; you ought not to say I did strike you, but that you think I did strike you; or it seem'd, or appear'd so.

Scar.

I'l complain to Justice.

Spitt.

I'l have no hand in't.

Scar.

I'l have satisfaction for the injury.

Spitt.

Peradventure I, peradventure no.

Scar.

I have the marks of your blows on my flesh to shew.

Spitt.

That may be.

Scar.

You have made me all o're black and blue.

Spitt.

Not unlikely.

Scar.

Justice will award me good damage.

Spitt.

That's more than I know.

Scar.

It shall be a dear striking.

Spitt.

Let it be as 'twill.

Scar.

You shall hear of me.

Spitt.

Such things have been; Adieu.

Exit.

Enter Pancrace.

Panc.

Signior Scaramouch, the business is done, a Divorce agreed on, the Parties consenting, my Son disengag'd; and now we may proceed to our designs.

Scar.

But I see not Octavio yet: What a murrain made him go a fishing?

Enter Harlequin.

Harl.

O, poor wretch! O, unfortunate! ah! ah! Poveretto!

Scar.

Who's here?

Harl.

Servitore! Signior Reverendissime, Signior Scientissime, Signior Excellentissime, Signior Illustrissime.

Panc.

What's your business?

[Page]Harl.

Signior, I was an unfortunate Inhabitant of Ligorn, had many losses at Sea; all my effects were seiz'd on by my Creditors; I fled away with this little, to secure something for a future subsistence.

Panc.

You wou'd sell it?

Harl.

Signiorsi; I fled hither for refuge, my Creditors have notice of it, and are come after me to lay me in Prison. I wou'd turn it into Money, and go presently a Shipboard, and try my fortune at Sea.

Panc.

What, will you take an ounce?

Harl.

Half a Ducat.

Scar.

Half a Ducat?

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

Half a Ducat?

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

Ap—pouh! here's a Fool.

Aside.

Panc.

How many ounces is there in all?

Harl.

Eight hundred.

Panc.

And you'l sell't for 800 Ducats and a half.

Harl.

Signior si.

Panc.

He's an Ignorant.

Scar.

Ap—pouh! a Sot.

Aside.

This is my house, I'l go in and weigh't.

Ex.

Harl.

Ap,—ap,—ap,—a.

Panc.

He's going to weigh't.

Harl.

Oh! Servitore!

Panc.

What is your name, Signior?

Harl.

Trivoline, Merchant of Ligorn.

Panc.

Did you buy all this Plate your self?

Harl.

Signior, no; it was my Father's, old Signior Trivoline's.

Panc.

I'l buy it of you for your Father's sake.

Harl.

For the sake of old Signior Trivoline, that was Merchant of Ligorn?

Panc.

For the sake of old Signior Trivoline, Merchant of Ligorn.

Harl.

I thank you, Signior Pancrace.

Panc.

Hau!

Harl.

What's the matter, Signior Pancrace?

Panc.

Hau! how did you know my name?

[Page]Harl.

O Diavolo! because you were my Father's Friend.

Panc.

You never saw me before.

Harl.

Signior, no; but I have often heard my Father, old Signior Trivoline, Merchant of Ligorn, say, that he had but one friend in the World, and that was one, Signior Doctore Pancrace.

Panc.

What does he mean? I never heard of any—Signior Trivoline.—

Aside.

But I'l buy the Plate, and out of the gains re-imburse my self of the Sum I paid for the Divorce. I'l step into the House, and fetch you the Money.

Ex.

Harl.

He! he! he! Oh! here comes Signior Scaramouch.

Enter Scaramouch, with the Plate and Money.

Scar.

It weighs so much: Heaven sends me this good fortune for redeeming my Son.—Here, take your Money.

Harl.

How much?

Scar.

Four hundred Ducats.

Harl.

Signior, no.

Scar.

No?

Harl.

Signior, no.

Scar.

How much then?

Harl.

Eight hundred Ducats and a half.

Scar.

Signior si, here's 400 whole Ducats.

Harl.

Signior, no; I'l have 800 half Ducats

Scar.

Ap—pouch!

Harl.

Causa Signior?

Enter Pancrace with Money.

Scar.

Bono! here's 800 half Ducats for you.

Panc.

Signior Trivoline, here.

Draws him aside, offering Money.

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

Here.

Draws him aside.

Harl.

Signior si▪

Panc.

Here.

Agen.

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

Here.

Agen.

Harl.

Signior si.

[Page]Panc.

I knew old Signior Trivoline; he was my good Friend.

Agen.

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

Take your Money.

Agen.

Panc.

Eh! Signior Scaramouch.

Agen more eagerly.

Scar.

Eh! Signior Pancace.

Agen.

Panc.

I have bought it, Signior Scaramouch.

Agen.

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

I have bought it, Signior Pancrace.

Agen

Harl.

Signior si.

Panc.

You have sold it to me.

Agen.

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

No, to me.

Agen.

Harl.

Signior si.

Panc.

How's that?

Harl.

You'l give me 800 half Ducats?

To Panc.

Panc.

Signior si.

Harl.

And you'l give me 800 half Ducats?

To Scar.

Scar.

Signior si.

Harl.

It's a bargain.

Scar.

Here's 800 half Ducats in Gold.

Harl.

Signior si, for your part?

Scar.

For the Plate.

Harl.

Signior, no.

Scar.

What then?

Harl.

You'l not give 800 more?

Scar.

Signior, no.

Harl.

Not for Signior Pancrace?

Scar.

Signior, no.

Harl.

Nor won't you give eight hundred more, Signior Pancrace.

Harl. goes towards the door, and turns his face.

Panc.

Signior, no.

Harl.

How wou'd you both buy it then?

Panc.

Ah! go to the Devil!

Harl.

Servitore!

Goes farther.

Panc.

Signior Scaramouch, he's a Fool; I'l buy it all as for my self, and you shall be one half in the purchase.

Scar.

Signior si.

Harl.

Signior Pancrace, you won't give 800 more?

Turns.

[Page]Panc.

No, no.

Harl.

Ah! Bono; you'l not give it for the sake of old Signior Trivoline?

Goes neerer the door, and turns.

Panc.

No.

Harl.

Ah! Adieu;—you'l not give it?

Goes to the door, and turns.

Panc.

No.

Harl.

You'l give no more?

Stands sidelong, one half out of the door.

Panc.

No, no, no, Signior, no.

Harl.

Nor you?

To Scaramouch.

Scar.

Signior, no.

Harl.

Basta, Signior Pancrace, give me your Money then.

Panc.

There 'tis in Gold.

Harl.

Eight hundred Ducats and a half, just?

Panc.

Signior si.

Harl.

For the sake of old Signior Trivoline.

Panc.

Signior si.

Harl.

Servitore! Signior Pancrace, Adieu.

Scar.

Ap-pouh! a Fool.

Panc.

Ah! so, Signior Scaramouch; now let's see our good bargain.

Scar.

Signior si, ap pouh!

Panc.

Then we'l go in, and divide it equally by weight.

Scar.

Si, ap pouh!

Panc. takes the Sack by the end to tumble the Plate out, and nothing but Earthen-ware appears; Scar. takes up a piece, makes faces, and let's it fall.

Panc.

Oh! Signior Scaramouch, what's here?

Scar.

Signior?

Panc.

Oh! Signior Scaramouch; O! Maleditto; O! Cullio-N [...]rio; O! Diavolo.

Ex. in a rage.

Scar.

Oh! que cosa—cou—&c.

Ex. gabbring Italian.

Enter Spittzaserro.

Spitt.

Eh! What was the meaning of this Blockheadly Philosopher, I cou'd not get a positive word from him.—Oh!—here are

Enter Aurelia, Zerbinetta, like Gypsies, singing and dancing.

some Gypsies, I'l see what they'l [Page] say to the business; they'r very merry: Heark you there, can you tell my Fortune?

Zerb.

Yes, yes; my fine Sir; here are two can tell you your Fortune.

Aur.

Come, cross our hands with a piece of Silver, we will tell you something shall be for your good.

Spitt.

Look you;—here are both hands cross'd.

Zerb.

You have a very good Phisiogmony, my fine Sir; a very good Phisiogmony.

Aur.

Yes, a lucky Phisiogmony; the Phisiogmony of one that shall be something one of these days.

Zerb.

You shall be marri'd e're long, my fine Sir; you shall be marri'd e're long.

Aur.

You shall marry a fine Wife, a fine Wife.

Zerb.

Yes, a Wife that every body shall love, and make much of.

Aur.

A Wise that shall get you a great many friends, my fine Sir; that shall get you a great many friends.

Zerb.

A Wife that shall make you known and noted at Court.

Aur.

A Wife that shall bring a great many Gallants to your House.

Zerb.

A Wife, for whose sake you shall be visited every day.

Aur.

A Wife that shall get you a great Reputation.

Zerb.

You shall be esteem'd for her sake, my fine Sir; you shall be esteem'd for her sake.

Spitt.

Oh! very good: But, pray tell me, shall I be in danger to be made a Cuckold?

Zerb.

A Cuckold?

Spitt.

Yes.

Aur.

A Cuckold?

Spitt.

Yes, shall I be in danger to be made a Cuckold?

Zerb. Aur.

—La! la! la! la!—

Both sing and dance, and Ex.

Spitt.

Why the Devil don't you answer me? I wou'd know if I shall be a Cuckold.

Zerb.

You a Cuckold?

Spitt.

Yes, I ask if I shall be a Cuckold?

[Page]Zerb. Aur.

—La! la! la! la!—

Both sing and dance, and Ex.

Enter Plautino.

Plaut.

Signior Spittzaferro, what comfort do they give you?

Spitt.

A pox o'the Carrions, they'l have left me unresolv'd too.

Plaut.

I have heard of a Cunning-man hard by, that is famous for his Art of Astrology and Magick; who, by representations, can shew you what-ever you have a mind to see.

Spitt.

Signior Plautino, let's go find him out, for I'm resolv'd to know my doom.

Exeunt.

Enter Scaramouch and Harl. with a great Sack, which he places betwixt the Scenes.

Harl.

Oh! I have trac'd this right; now for my revenge.

Scar.

Harlequin, where's Octavio?

Harl.

Your Money was very acceptable; Mr. Pyrat presents his Humble Service to you.

Scar.

But where's Octavio?

Harl.

Oh! he's safe, but you are not.

Scar.

Eh! why? what?

Harl.

There are people hunting all about for you, to kill you.

Scar.

Me?

Harl.

Signior si.

Scar.

Ah! Who?

Harl.

The Gentlewomans Brother that Signior Cynthio has marri'd, believes that the design which you have to make a Match between him and your Daughter, is the main reason why the breaking off of the Marriage is so much endeavour'd; and he's resolv'd to kill you, to be reveng'd. All his acquaintance of Indigent Officers and Bravoes are enquiring after you, to be the death of you; at least half a score have enquir'd of me for you already.

Scar.

To kill me?

[Page]Harl.

They swore they'd be the death of you; but I told 'em you did not care for that.

Scar.

Not care.

Harl.

No; for, said I, Signior Scaramouch is a Philosopher, and is not afraid of death. He cares no more for his Body, than I do for my old Shooes.

Scar.

No.

Harl.

You may bruise his flesh, and break his bones; but you cannot reach his mind: A Philosopher's mind is invulnerable. Did not I say right, Scaramouch?

Scar.

O, Harlequin! what must I do, Harlequin?

Harl.

Oh! Signior Scaramouch; to see a Philosopher! Fear puts me in a fright too, I cannot hold a joint still: stay, I'l look about.

Looks out, and starts.

Oh! O!

Scar.

Oh! Harlequin! Harlequin!

Harl.

No, no, 'twas nothing.

Scar.

Canst think of no way to help me?

Harl.

Signior, no; heark,—let me look agen:—What's here,—a Sack? Ah! Signior Scaramouch, Fortune is your friend: Put your self into this, and I'l—ha—

Scar.

Oh! a!

Harl.

No,—there's no-body; so put your self in, and I'l take you upon my back like a burden, and carry you home.

Scar.

Si, si.

Harl.

Hast, hast; I hear somebody come.

Scar. goes into the Sack.

Scar.

So,—so, Harlequin.

Harl.

Keep close, stir not, what-ever happens.

Scar.

No, Harlequin, no.

Harl.

Hide, hide, Signior Scaramouch; yonder comes one, keep close.

Harl. Acts a Bravo.

Feign'd.

Dam this Signior Scaramouch, this Musty Philosopher; if I find him, I'l cut his throat.

—Signior Scaramouch is not one that desires to have his throat cut; he's a very civil Person, a Scholar, and a Philosopher.

F.

A Philosopher! a Fool, a Dog, a Rogue, a Rascal, a Son of a Whore.

[Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page]—He's wa orthy Philosopher.—Keep close.

F.

Is he a friend of yours?

—Signior si.

F.

I am glad I have met with a Friend of his, by whom I may present my most profound Respects to him; which I will do in this most hearty manner.

Runs crying round the Sack, and beats him.

—Hold, hold, hold.

F.

I'l dodg you Sirrah; do you dodg? I shall meet with you▪

—Ah! ah! ah! Hold, hold, hold; ah! ah!

F.

My service to him, my love and service. Adieu, my good Friend, to Signior Scaramouch.

—Oh! Signior Scaramouch!

Opens the Sack.

Scar.

I can endure no longer.

Harl.

O! I am bruised. I am beaten.

Scar.

How's that? I was beaten.

Harl.

Signior, no.

Scar.

Signior si.

Harl.

O yes, yes, Signior; as I ran round the Sack to save my self, the blows sometimes light upon you.

Scar.

You shou'd a run somewhere else.

Harl.

I'l look and see if the Coast be clear.—Oh! have a care,—have a care; I see one with a great pair of Whiskers, and a Cap lin'd with Fur.—Close,—close.

He acts a Dutchman.

F.

Gooden morgen Lans-man, gooden morgen; were sal ick vind'n, Myn-heir, vander Scaramouch.

—Vander Scaramouch?

F.

Yaw, Myn-heir, yaw, yaw.

—Yaw, Myn-heir, yaw, yaw.

F.

Were sal ick vind'n hem

—Find him.

F.

Ken uwe no Duytch spreken? wil ghy neit spreken?

—Spreken,—spreken,—spreken.—

F.

Ghy Sacraments a Hounts-foot, ick sal uwe lustick slagen.

—Ah! ah! ah!

F.

Ten hundred Duysant Devils,—mock uwe zeil Haulen Hountsfoot.

—Ah! ah! ah!

F.

Ghy Sacraments a—ick sal vind'n Myn▪heir vander Scaramouch;—ick sal hem slagen,—Ghy Sacraments, a—ten hundred [...] [...] Devils

[Page]—Oh! the Devil wander him, and slopen him; and ten hundred thousand Devils go with him.

Harl.

O, my ribs!

Scar.

O, my shoulders!

Harl.

O! Signior Scaramouch, I was not neer you.

Scar.

I felt every blow as perfectly as before.

Harl.

Signior, no.

Scar.

Signior si.

Harl.

You did but hear 'em.

Scar.

I felt 'em.

Harl.

Signior, no, fear made you think so.

Scar.

I feel 'em still.

Harl.

Signior si, by sympathy, sympathy.

Scar.

Sympathy; O, Diavolo! sympathy!

Harl.

O, Signior; here are some roaring Boys come singing along, and every one a Bottle o' Wine ins hand. Lye still till they are pass'd.

He acts three men, in speaking and singing in three several Voices.

1.

Well, now let's go find out Scaramouch.

2.

And drink and sing all the way.

3.

Let's sing 'tother catch, and make an end of our Bottle first.

1.

I'l begin.

Chi non beve, vita breve, gaudera.

sings a Treble.

I'l bon Vino, che' divino, viver fa.

Confusion to Signior Scaramouch.—So.

2.

Chi non beve, &c.

sings a Tenor.

Confusion to Scaramouch.

3.

Chi non beve, &c.

a Base.

1.

Come, here's one shall drink and sing too.

Eh! Signior; I am in hast.

as Harlequin.

2.

Sing, sirrah.

I can't sing.

as Harl.

3.

Sing after me.—Chi non beve.

Chi non beve.

as Harl,

1.

Fie, fie; sing after me, and observe how I beat time upon the Sack.—Chi non beve.

Chi non beve.

as Harl.

2.

Agen,—agen;—Chi non beve, &c.

[Page] Chi non beve.

as Harl.

3.

He's a Blockhead, let's leave him, and go find out Scaramouch.

2.

Let's take this Rogue with us to shew us the way.

3.

Ay, ay;—let's take him with us.

I do'nt know him.

as Harl.

1.

You lye, you dog!—along, shew us the way.

Signior, no; I have business.

as Harl.

2.

You won't go then?

No.

as Harl.

3.

Let's beat him till he will.

Sear. peeps out of the Sack.

1.

Knock his brains out.

2.

Lay him on soundly.

1.

Aye, soundly.

as all 3. Soundly, soundly, soundly.

As Harl. acts this, Scaramouch lets fall the Sack, comes softly out, and stands just behind him, with his Girdle ready to beat him, as he turns.—Harl. turns to beat the Sack, sees Scaramouch, runs off; who follows▪ beating him.

Scar.

Aye, soundly, soundly, soundly.

The End of the fourth Act.

Act V. Scene I.

[Page]

Enter Spittzaferro and Plautino.

Plaut.

I'M not acquainted with him; but I have heard great commendation of his skill: 'Tis somewhere hereabout he lives: Look you where he comes forth.

Enter Harlequin like a Magician, with a great pair of Spectacles on his Nose, a long Prospective-glass, looking at Spittzaferro at a distance.

Harl.

A man of a bold Aspect, fortunate Phisiognomy, sanguine Complexion, strong Constitution, great Appetite, and good Digestion; but by nature timerous and diffident; therefore sleeps not sound.

Plaut.

Exactly you.

Harl.

Aged 53 years, 2 Months, 9 days, 37 hours, three hundred threescore and three minutes and a half.

Spitt.

What says he?

Plaut.

He's telling you how old you are, a new way of counting these learn'd Men have got. See, he's coming towards you.

Spitt.

Signior, I'm your Servant.

Harl.

You are not, I pay you no Wages.

Spitt.

I give you a good-morrow.

Harl.

You give me nothing.

Spitt.

There is some Gold.

Harl.

A good gift is a good-morrow.

Spitt.

I come, Signior, to kiss your hands.

Harl.

There.

Hits him in the Chops first with one hand▪ and then with the other.

Spitt.

Euh! what's the meaning?

Harl.

And there.—How you have done what you come for?

[Page]Plaut.

I perceive he's not a Man of Ceremony.

Harl.

You are a Man of great vulgarity, Signior; you ought to make your Approaches in a more peculiar manner, and not to disgorge such vulgar Phrases in the face of the Learn'd.

'Plaut.

Pray ben't so critical; we are not us'd to treat with persons of your profound Science.

Spitt.

In short▪ Signior, my Name is—

Harl.

Spittzaferro.

Spitt.

I am come to tell you that I am about—

Harl.

To Marry.

Spitt.

Signior si, and desire to know of you—

Harl.

If you may do't with safety.

Spitt.

Signior si, and if I shall not be—

Harl.

A Cuckold.

Plaut.

He knows all before you tell it him.

Harl.

O, impertinence! ▪tell a Magician what you come for! Whiz!—whose Art is knowledg it self. Buz! who reads what's written in the Stars. Fitz! who holds intelligence with Spirits. Ptru—ru—ru!—to whose eyes the Book of Fate lies open.—Bro,—thro,—ro,—ro,—rou!

Plaut.

Most learn'd Sir; you have sufficiently inform'd his understanding, as to his conversation; now be pleas'd to satisfy his curiosity, which brought him hither: and by your Magick representations shew him something that may be to his advantage.

Harl.

Basta, basta, Signior, basta. Follow me in.

Ex.

Enter agen in a Room. Harl. with a dark Lanthorn.

Tricola, tracola, whiz! Tricola, tracola, Buz!

Tricola, tracola, Fitz!

Tricola, tracola, Ptru-ru-ru!

Tricola, tracola, Bro-thro-rou!

Tricola, tracola.

Goes about prancing, sings this ridiculously; at last stops.

Tricola, tracola.

Tricola, tracola.

Doodle doodle-doo.

My Conjurations are Pacifick;

A vision of horns appears in shadows, increase to a vast bigness, and vanish.

Your Fortune see in Hierogliphick.

[Page]Plaut.

See, Signior Spittzaferro.

Spitt.

This vision's no good omen.

A vision of horns appears, increases and decreases in bigness several times, at last vanish upward.

Harl.

Tricola, tracola; tricola, tracola; tricola, tracola, &c. Toodle-doodle-doo, &c.

Goes about prancing▪ as before▪

Plaut.

Mind, Sir, mind.

Bird.

Cucko.

A Cucko appears in shadow, cries 3 times, and each time grows bigger, at last, flies up out o▪sight.

Plaut.

Heark.

Bird.

Cucko.

Spitt.

Say you so?

Bird.

Cucko.

Flies away.

Spitt.

This Bird gives no good Augury of my Marriage.

Plaut.

I'm affraid 'twill be something unfortunate.

Harl.

Tricola, tracola; tricola, tracola; tricola, tracola, &c. Toodle-doodle-doodle-doodle-doo.

Prances about.

Men appear in shadows with horns on their heads, grow bigger and less several times, several times appear and disappear, at last dance with a great pair of horns in each hand; they offer as it were to Spittzaferro, shaking 'em at him with each hand, shaking their heads, then jump up out o'sight one after another.

Spitt.

Signior Plautino, these were Cuckolds, they shook their heads at me; that's no good sign.

'Plaut.

We'l know what it signifies. Signior, what's the meaning of all this?

To Harl.

Harl.

Tricola, tracola; tricola, tracola; tri—

Plaut.

What are you going to do now?

Harl.

To Conjure up the Devil himself in person, who shall tell you the meaning on't. Tricola, tracola; tricola, tracola, &c.

Spitt.

The Devil himself. Euh! Servitore, Signior, tricola, Servitore.

Ex. Spittz. and Plaut.

Harl.

Euh! Euh! Signior.

Plaut.

No, no, Servitore.

Eh! eh! he! tricola, tracola, &c.

Exit.

[Page]Enter Spittzaferro and Plautino in the Street.

Plaut.

Signior Spittzaferro, what think you How?

Spitt.

Signior Plautino, I think 'tis better to be a Man than a Beast; and since Heaven has created me one, I'le take care not to be metamorphis'd by a Woman.

Enter Cynthio.

Plaut.

Signior Spittzaferro, here is Signior Alberto your Brother-in-Law; Signior Alberto, this is the worthy person that is to marry your Sister.

Cynt.

Signior I am just now luckily arriv'd; my Father has told me the good news▪ I'm glad Aurelia has the good fortune to have a man of your Character for her Husband. I shall be proud of such a Brother-in-Law.

Spitt.

Signior I kiss your hands.

Cynt.

Time won't allow farther Ceremony; my Father sent me to tell you, that they want your company. Come Sir, I'le wait on you.

Spitt.

Excuse me Signior Alberto.

Cynt.

No Ceremony, I pray.

Spitt.

No haste, no haste.

Cynth.

The Scrivener is there, the Writings are ready, they want you to set your Hand and Seal to the Jointure you make my Sister.

Spitt.

No question.

Cynt.

Come Sir, let's go.

Spitt.

I have a word to say to you first.

Cynt.

To me?

Spitt.

Signior si.

Cynt.

What I pray?

Plaut.

I'le go before, and tell 'em you are coming.

Ex.

Spitt.

Signior Alberto, 'tis true, I ask'd your Fathers consent to marry Aurelia; he was very inclinable; but upon more deliberate consideration I find, I am a little too far in years for her, and I am convinc'd I shall not be a fit Husband for her.

Cynt.

Excuse me, my Sister thinks very well of you, and I [Page] doubt not but she'l be happy in you.

Spitt.

No, she won't; I have sometimes strange melancholy Fits, and whilst they last, I am very extravagant; and I'm sure 'twill be too much for her to bear with me in those humours.

Cynt.

My Sister is of a very good disposition, and as merry, she'l sing and laugh, and play a thousand tricks to divert you; she'l be the fittest Wife alive for you.

Spitt.

Then Signior I have some infirmities of Body too, which will disgust her.

Cynt.

That's nothing Signior, a vertuous Wife is never disgusted with her Husband.

Spitt.

In short Signior, give me leave to tell you, I wou'd not have your Father by any means to let me marry her.

Cynt.

O Signior, my Father was always a punctual man, and do you think upon his death-bed he'l be worse than his word!

Spitt.

Tell him Signior, I dispence with his promise, and I—

Cynt.

For never so much, he has said it, and you shall have her, let what will be the matter.

Spitt.

Ah! what ado's here!

Cynt.

See then Signior Spittzaferro, what a particular esteem and liking my Father has for you; he told the company that the thoughts of this day revived him, and said, if a Duke shou'd now demand my Sister, he shou'd go without her for your sake.

Spitt.

Signior Alberto, I'm extreamly obliged to your Father, for the honour he does me, but I assure you, I am resolv'd not to marry.

Cynt.

Your reason?

Spitt.

The reason is, because marriage is inconvenient for me; Ile imitate my Father and all my Ancestors, who could never be perswaded to marry.

Cynt.

Nay, nay Signior, you have your liberty, no body as I know will force you against your inclinations. But since tis so, pray go and acquaint my Father with it your self; I have done my message, and am engaged to go another way. Do ye hear Signior, you need not doubt your release; he's one won't impose her on you. Adieu.

Is going off, and returns.

Exit.

Spitt.

Well, Ile go and put an end to this business, that my mind may be free from fears and my [...] continue sound.

Ex.

[Page]Enter Scaramouch and Pancrace.

Scar.

Signior Pancrace, we are abused, disgraced.

Panc.

Couzened and cheated.

Scar.

That Rogue Harlequin.

Panc.

That Rascal Plautino.

Scar.

That Villain Harlequin.

Panc.

That cursed Plautino, and Knave Harlequin, his wicked Accomplice.

Scar.

They shall account for their Rogueries.

Panc.

They shall be made Examples, Signior Scaramouch. Let's join in our Revenge.

Scar.

We'l have recourse to Justice.

Panc.

Get Officers and search 'em out.

Scar.

We'l have 'em strapado'd▪

Panc.

And sent to the Galleys.

Scar.

Cherto, Seguro.

Panc.

Then we'l take a course in order to my Son, whom I will yet have to marry your Daughter Andramo.

Scar.

Patientia Signior Pancracio, I have receiv'd Letters.

Panc.

What from Lauretto, which inform you that your Daughter and mine resolve to be Nuns.

Scar.

Yes.

Panc.

I have Letters to that effect too, but I'l not consent to't.

Scar.

Your Son being engaged I am content.

Panc.

Signior Scaramouch, I will yet recover all.

Scar.

Matters are gone too far, he loves another.

Panc.

I'l make him love agen.

Scar.

Affection cannot be forced.

Panc.

He shall marry her.

Scar.

My Daughter shall continue there.

Suspend your Resolutions till we know more of the concern, we'l search 'em out, and have them face to face.

Scar.

My Son.

Panc.

And mine.

Scar.

And Harlequin.

Panc.

And Plautino.

Scar.

And that Gipsie Baggage shall have no cause to laugh.

[Page]Panc.

Let's about it.

Scar.

Instantly.

Panc.

I now presently, along! Signior Scaramouch.

Enter Spitzaferro.

Spitz.

I found Signior Beronimo more reasonable than I expected; but I believe he thought my refusal an affront, and might slight it out of Pride, but I took him at his word; and now, stand disengag'd Signior, Ieronimo Servitore, Signiora Aurelia, I kiss your hands,—so 'tis well.

Enter Octavio.

Oct.

Signior Spitzaferro, I'm your humble Servant.

Spit.

Signior I am yours.

Oct.

My Friend Signior Alberto tells me, you are not a man o'your word.

Spit.

'Tis confest; but 'tis not without much regret, and—

Oct.

O Signior, no harm at all.

Spit.

I am very much troubled, and wish with all my heart,—

Oct.

No harm done.

Spit.

I should have been very glad that—

Oct.

It matters not Signior, rest contented. Signior be pleased to make choice of one of these two Swords, and take which you like best.

Spit.

One o'these Swords.

Oct.

Yes, which you please.

Spit.

To what intent?

Oct.

After your refusing to marry a Lady, to which you had given your word, I doubt not but you'l take in good part the Complement I come to make you.

Spit.

What's that?

Oct.

There's a little Billet which Signior Alberto desir'd the favour of me to deliver into your hands.

(Spit. reads)

Signior Spitzaferro, I consider that your refusal to marry my Sister, is an affront to our Family, I demand the [Page] satisfaction of a Gentleman; make choice of your Weapon, and appoint the place and time.

Your Friend and Servant, Alberto.

Spit.

Friend and Servant! What a Complement is there to such a Message?

Oct.

Other men would make a noise and a buslle, and grow enrag'd against you; but Signior Alberto is a civil person, and one that does things very obligingly, he sends courteously to you, to tell you, that if you please you two will civilly cut one anothers throats.

Spit.

A fine Complement, a very civil person indeed.

Oct.

Come Signior, chuse your Sword I pray.

Spit.

I kiss your hands Signior, I have ne're a throat to cut; What a Civility's there?

Oct.

It must be so if you please.

Spit.

Signior no matter for Complements among Friends, Servitore.

Is going off, Octavio pulls him back.

Oct.

Signior, if you please you must not depart yet; come take which you like best, I'm a little in haste, or I'd allow you more time to make your choice.

Spit.

I have nothing to say to the business.

Oct.

You are not pleas'd then to fight him.

Spit.

No, not at all.

Oct.

You don't think good to kill one another.

Spit.

Signior no.

Oct.

'Tis against your inclination?

Spit.

Signior si.

Oct.

You have made a resolution to the contrary.

Spit.

And please you.

Oct.

At least Signior Spitzaferro you'l have no reason to complain, you see I observe method, and do things in order; you go from your word, the party injur'd sends you a Challenge, I bring it, you refuse to fight, I beat you for not accepting the message, that follows of consequence, all this is in course, and I know you are too worthy a person not to approve of proceedings which are so orderly and exact.

Spit.

What a sort of man's this?

Oct.

Come Signior, chuse your weapon without more ado.

Spit.

Yet agen!

[Page]Oct.

Signior, I force no body, but you must take it; nor does Signior Alberto compel you to any thing, but you must sight him, if you please.

Spit.

I shall do neither.

Oct.

No?

Spit.

Signior, no.

Oct.

With your permission then.

Beats him.

Spit.

Ah, ah, ah, ah.

Oct.

Signior, I have all the reluctancy imaginable to treat you so contrary to all my inclinations; but with your good liking, if you please, I can't forbear till you do me the favour to grant what I request of you.

Spit.

I kiss your hands Signior, give me which you please.

Oct.

No Signior, which you please, So, is it not best to do things thus freely and courteously. I'm very glad to find you so inclinable, for you are a very civil person, and one for whom I have a particular respect; I was extream sorry to see you wou'd force me against my Nature. Well Signior, I'l go and acquaint Signior Alberto, that you will please to do him the obligation to meet him at six to morrow morning upon the Mole, with your Sword in your hand, like a gallant person▪ So Signior Spitzaferro I kiss your hands; Your most humble Servant.

Spitt. takes a Sword.

Ex.

Spitt.

Eh! What a sort of Ceremony, what kind of Complements are these? What an obliging, disobliging person was this? Euh—Malleditto.

Exit.

Enter Cynthio, Aurelia, Zerbinetta, Officers.

Aur.

Take courage, you see me in the same ill circumstances, and expos'd to the like misfortunes.

Zerb.

You know your birth, and who you are; you have Relations that will reconcile all. But I'm in a condition that that will not appease the anger of a Father, to whom Merit signifies little, and who regards nothing but Wealth.

Enter Pancrace and Scaramouch.

Panc.

O are you caught at last, are your intrigues discover'd? Will you now at last consent to quit your fine choice.

[Page]Cynt.

O Signior, I humbly beg of you, no more to think of separating me from this fair person; I'm hers by a thousand Vows, and by holy Contract she's mine.

Aur.

She's a person of such virtue and merit, that when you know her better, you'l have the greatest esteem for her imaginable.

Panc.

Esteem one that has seduced my Son from his obedience.

Enter Plautino.

Plaut.

In the hands of Justice!

Panc.

No, I have no esteem for a Vagabond, one of a Race unknown.

Plaut.

Signior Pancracio. regret not that your Son loves a person unknown, one without a portion, and whose quality you are ignorant of; the person from whom he purchas'd her declar'd, passing through a little Village not far from this City, call'd Pitrola, in a time when several Houses were on fire, they found her brought forth into the street, then but an Infant, lying in a Cradle, and left unattended, in the time of this distraction they stole her away.

Scar.

What said you?

Plaut.

They believ'd it not the Daughter of a Peasant, but a Nurse-Child, having several rich Medals about her Neck, of which they left this one as the most remarkable.

Shews a Gold Medal.

Scar.

Let me see't.

Plaut.

By publishing this Story, she may come to the knowledg of her Parents; and this may serve for a circumstance to consirm 'em she is their Daughter.

Scar.

O, fortunate discovery! happy confirmation!

Plaut.

What say you▪ Signior Scaramouch?

Scar.

'Tis my Daughter whom I lost in the same manner as you speak of.

Panc.

Your Daughter, Signior Scaramouch?

Scar.

Yes▪ I own her.

Zerb.

O happy Zerbinetta!

Scar.

No, no, your name is Olivia.

My Sister! unexpected joy.

[Page]Scar.

Signior Pancracio, you have now no longer reason to repent your Son's actions.

Plaut.

Nor you, Signior Scaramouch, have no reason to be angry with your Son, for his love to the fair Aurelia.

Scar.

My Son love one that's contracted to another.

Plaut.

Signior Spittzaferro, by the consent of parties, has quitted his pretensions, and I have acquainted Signior Ieronimo with Signior Octavio's love to his Daughter, and he now approves well of it, and resolves nothing shall be wanting in him to gain your approbation of the match.

Scar.

Signior Plautino, I am content.

Aur.

Blest agreement!

Oct.

Lucky hour!

Cynt.

Fortunate Plautino!

Zerb.

Happy conclusion!

Plaut.

This good news, I hope makes my Peace with all.

Panc.

Servitore, Signior Plautino.

Scar.

I forgive all but Harlequin; that's a Rogue shan't escape punishment.

Plaut.

I'l step into Signior Ieronimo, and tell him the good news.

Exit.

Enter Spittzaferro.

Spitt.

O! Signior, Servitore; I received your invitation, and take it for a very great favour, that you think me worthy of the honour of your Sword.

Panc.

How's this?

Spitt.

But, Signior Alberto, let me tell you, that at present I am not in a condition to fight; I will satisfy you in what-ever else shall be requisite.

Panc.

Aberto! what means he?

Spitt.

Imagin then that you see me in the Field with my Sword in my hand, sighting against you. Imagin likewise that you have laid me on the ground; publish it thro'out the City, I'l acknowledg it; for the present I do consess my self o'recome. And without any sighting at all, I ask my life of you.

Cynt.

You have it.

Spitt.

Not that I am affraid to fight, but that it will not be discretion in me at this time.

[Page]Cynt.

As you please.

Spitt.

And that wisdom tells, 'tis better to do it now, than to submit to your mercy after you have kill'd me.

bynt.

Very true.

Spitt.

Yet, upon condition that you will hereafter demand your life of me, when it shall be inconvenient for you to fight, and I shall send you the like courteous invitation.

Scarr.

What means this?

Panc.

Signior Spittzaferro, who do you talk to?

Spitt.

To Signior Alberto.

Panc.

To Cynthio.

Spitt.

Brother to Signiora Aurelia.

Panc.

My Son.

Oct.

'Tis true, Signior Spittzaferro; this Gentleman is not Signior Alberto, but Signior Cynthio; not her Brother, but my Friend, to serve me in my Amour. I was your Rival, and your true Enemy; But now you have quitted your pretensions, and matters are concluded, I'm your Friend hence▪forward.

Spitt.

Then it will not concern me hereafter to require him to demand his life of me.

Oct.

You may sleep in peace.

Spitt.

Ah! Bono, Servitore.

Enter Plautino.

Plaut.

Signior Scaramouch, Signior Ieronimo is extremely rejoyc'd at the happy conclusion.

Enter an Officer bringing in Harlequin in his Magicians habit.

Offic.

Come along, come.

Panc.

Oh! is he catch'd? he shall have the Strapada.

Harl.

Signior si, I deserve it for counterfeiting a Bravo, and cheating you of 206 Pistols.

Panc.

Ah! Furbo! Villain!

Harl.

And for not being a Philosopher of your Sect, Signior; for not learning Logick, Morals, Physick and Metaphysicks, Signior si.

Scar.

He shall be sent to the Galleys for seven years.

Harl.

Signior si, for not being a Novice, and learning Patience. [Page] Temperance, Sobriety, and not going to a Wench.

Scar.

Signior Pancrace, his sentence shall be for his whole life.

Harl.

Signior si, for telling you your Son went a fishing, and for getting 500 Dollers of you against your will.

Panc.

Signior Scaramouch, he shall be hang'd out right.

Harl.

Signior si, for being a Merchant of Ligorn, and cosening Signior Pancrace and Signior Scaramouch of 800 half Ducats, and for being the Son of old Signior Trivoline.

Scar.

He shall be broken alive upon the Wheel.

Harl.

Signior si, for having the insolence to put a learned Philosopher into a Sack.

Scar.

Bestia!

Harl.

For laying him on with a great Cudgel.

Scar.

Bruto!

Harl.

And beating him till he was all o're black and blue.

Scar.

O che Diavolo! Impertinente!

Panc.

Away with him to a Magistrate, he shall have his reward for all.

Harl.

Signior Officer, I have dropt a Purse of Gold where I stand; take the light and look for't, it belongs to Signior Scaramouch, and Signior Pancrace.

Scar.

Ah! Bono.

Panc.

Look for't, Signior Scaramouch, you and I will hold him in the mean time.

The Officer holds the Torch to Harlequin's feet to look for't, he treads it out.

Scar.

Eh! Bestia!

Harl.

Excusa, Signior, 'twas by chance.

Panc.

Go, light it agen, and look for the Money; we'l hold him.

Scar.

Signior si.

Ex. Officer

Panc.

Eh.

Harlequin slips out of the Gown as they hold him by the Arms, goes behind them, and hits each two or three times o're the head,—they strike at him, and buffet one another.

Scar.

Eh.

Panc.

Bruto!

Scar.

Bestia!

Panc.

Bruto!

Scar.

Bestia.

Harl.

Ha! ha! he!

Ex.

[Page]Enter Officer with a light; looks, and sees them holding the Gown and Cap upon't, and no-body in't.

Panc.

Oh! Signior Scaramouch, here's no-body.

Scar.

No▪body?

Panc.

The Villain's escap'd.

Scar.

O che Furbo.

Aur. Zerb.

Gone!

Oct. Cynt.

Hah che Cullione!

Panc.

Signior Scaramouch, rest content at present. Now let us go in, have the Musick, eat a good Supper, and make a night on't.

Scar.

Signior si▪ signior si.

Ex. Panc. and Scar.

Plaut.

You must all joyn to make a reconciliation for Harlequin. He must for all this come in for the leg of a good Capon.

Enter Harlequin. From listning.

Harl.

Signior si, Signior si.

Oct. Cynt.

Come, come, Harlequin's come.

Aur. Zerb.

Aye, come, poor Harlequin.

making legs to every one▪

Harl.

Servitore, Signior Octavio; Signior Cynthio, Servitore; Signiora Aurelia, Servitore; Servitore Signiora, & Servitore Tutti quanti.

Exeunt.

FINIS.

Epilogue.

[Page]

THose that were Iudges forty years ago,

Would nothing but strict Comedy allow,

And humours drawn exactly to the life.

The Poet here, with nature is at strife.

We show'd to day only what's strange and new,

Where tho the Picture was not drawn so true,

Yet th'oddness of the piece may pleasure give,

As that alone makes the Dutch painting thrive.

We in this age, which is so much for change,

Have leapt the Hedg, and now with freedom range.

What's naturally witty will not do,

Unless there's something yet more strange than you.

If like your selves an airy Fop we show,

You cry, Dam-me Jack, that was stole from you.

No humor on the Stage will pass for Wit,

Cause ev'ry day you act your selves i'the Pit.

In Coffee-House but half the Fool y'expose,

With talk impertinent, and silly Oaths,

The Mall the Fop at full proportion shows.

To have you here then were dull Repetition,

'Twould be at least the fourth and worst Edition.

Nor can we now any new humor meet,

In all Cheap-side, Cornhill, and Lumbard-street,

Upon the change, they're formal, dull, precise,

Of Dutch and French most gravely telling Lies;

Foretelling the success of Foreign War,

What may portend the Whale and Blazing-Star.

Since they're so gravely dull, aud you so light,

Our Play we hope may've done you both some right.

Even in this Play will be some natural touches,

Whilst you're such Harlequins, they Scaramouches.

Information about this book

Title statement

Scaramouch a philosopher, Harlequin a school-boy, bravo, merchant, and magician a comedy after the Italian manner : acted at the Theatre-Royal / written by Mr. Edward Ravenscroft.

Ravenscroft, Edward, 1654?-1707.

Edition statement

1677

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-11 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A58120

ID [STC]

Wing R337

ID [STC]

ESTC R20733

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

12356526

ID [OCLC]

ocm 12356526

ID [VID]

60147

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A58120)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 60147)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 645:21)

Source

— Scaramouch a philosopher, Harlequin a school-boy, bravo, merchant, and magician a comedy after the Italian manner : acted at the Theatre-Royal / written by Mr. Edward Ravenscroft., Ravenscroft, Edward, 1654?-1707., Molière, 1622-1673. Bourgeois gentilhomme., Molière, 1622-1673. Mariage forcé..

Extent

[4], 82, [1] p.

Printed for Robert Sollers ...,. [London] :: 1677.. (Based in part on Molière's "Le bourgeois gentilhomme" and "Le mariage forcé".) (Reproduction of original in Bodleian Library.)

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