path: root/76792-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76792 ***


                          Transcriber’s Notes

 • Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
 • Typographical errors were silently corrected.
 • Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when
   a predominant form was found in this book.
 • Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
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   enclosed in braces (^{superscript}).

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                            _HURLOTHRUMBO_:

                                OR: THE

                             SUPER-NATURAL

                         As it is Acted at the

                              NEW-THEATRE,

                                 IN THE

                              HAY-MARKET.

           --------------------------------------------------

             Written by Mr. SAMUEL JOHNSON, of _Cheshire_.

           --------------------------------------------------

                _Ye Sons of Fire, read my_ HURLOTHRUMBO,
             _Turn it betwixt your Finger and your Thumbo,
            And being quite outdone, be quite struck dumbo._

           --------------------------------------------------

                               _LONDON_:

                      Printed for the AUTHOR And,

          _Dublin_: Re-Printed by JAMES HOEY, and GEORGE
            FAULKNER, at the _Pamphlet-Shop_ in _Skinner-Row_
            opposite to the _Tholsel_, MDCCXXIX.




------------------------------------------------------------------------




[Illustration]

                                   TO

                           The Honourable the

                             Lady _DELVES_.


  MADAM,

When I think of your Goodness, it gives me Encouragement to put my Play
under your grand Protection; and if you can find any thing in it worthy
of your Praise, I am sure the _Super-Naturals_ will like it. I do not
flatter when I say, your Taste is universal, Great as an Empress, Sweet
and Refin’d as Lady _Malpas_, Sublime as Lady _Sarah Cowper_, Learned
and Compleat as Lady _Conway_, Distinguishing and Clear as Mrs. _Madin_,
Gay, Good and Innocent as Lady _Bland_. I have often thought that you
are a Compound of the World’s Favourites, that all meet and rejoice
together in one; the Taste of _Montagu_, _Wharton_, or _Meredith_,
_Stanhope_, _Sneid_, or _Byrom_; the Integrity and Hospitality of _Legh_
of _Lime_, the Wit and Fire of _Bunbury_, the Sense of an _Egerton_,
fervent to serve as _Beresford_ or _Mildmay_, belov’d like _Gower_. If
you was his Rival, you’d weaken the Strength of that most powerful
Subject. I hope your eternal Unisons in Heaven will always sing to keep
up the Harmony in your Soul, that is Musical as Mrs. _Leigh_, and never
ceases to delight; raises us in Raptures like _Amante Sposa_, Lord
_Essex_, or the Sun. If every Pore in every Body in _Cheshire_ was a
Mouth they would all cry out aloud, _God save the Lady_ DELVES! that
illuminates the Minds, of Mortals, inspires with Musick and Poetry
especially,

                                          _Your most Humble Servant_,

                                                           Lord _FLAME_.




------------------------------------------------------------------------




[Illustration]

                                   TO

                        The Right Hon^{ble} the

                            Lord _WALPOLE_.


  _My Good Lord_,

I Return Thanks to Heaven, which is in you, I mean your Taste, that
would not continue, except it was cherish’d with Vertue, that Parent of
Eternal Love; ’tis all Palate hungers after, intellectual Food,
Generosity, Harmony; the lofty Lines of a sublime Pen: and these
beautiful Perfections in you, have been the Chief Support of my Play. At
this Time there are as many fine Poets in _England_ as ever there were;
but they will not write, because they say there is nothing encourag’d
but Noise and Nonsense. But I believe those Bards are mistaken; for so
long as the Lord Duke of _Montagu_, Yourself, and Mr. _Charles Stanhope_
live, fine Poetry will not want Encouragement: tho’ I have nothing to
boast of in my Play, but the Character of _Soarethereal_, yet you great
Men, that shine among the Angels, did condescend to support me; and no
one is more thankful than

                                            _Your_ LORDSHIP’S

                                                  _very humble Servant_,

                                                  SAM. JOHNSON.




------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               PROLOGUE.

           --------------------------------------------------

                         By AMOS MEREDITH, Esq;

           --------------------------------------------------

                Near is my Shirt, but nearer is my Skin.

           --------------------------------------------------


        _Rules were by Coxcombs made to cramp the Mind       }
        By Nature free, unfetter’d, unconfin’d,              }
        She mounts a Flame, and flies, astride the Wind.     }
        Through boundless space wings her Celestial Way,     }
        And Eagle-ey’d confronts the Source of Day;          }
        Criticks begone, avant ye Sons of Clay!              }
        To every Star its Name and Course assign,            }
        In narrow Bounds the swelling Tides confine,         }
        And teach the Ruler of the Day to shine.             }
        Sluggish the servile Mule sustains the Weight;       }
        Wolves bait the Moon because she shines so bright;   }
        And Owls are blinded with Excess of Light.           }
        Unchain’d by Art with true Poetick Rage,             }
        In Buskins highly rais’d, we tread the Stage;        }
        With Fire from Heaven, to thaw the frozen Age.       }
        The God of Number and melodious Strains,             }
        Triumphant drives through Empyrean Plains,           }
        Impetuous bound the Steeds nor hear the Reins        }
        If Soar-æthereal’s Characters too high,              }
        For mean Conception shocks the vulgar Eye,           }
        Let filthy Mire accuse the Azure Sky.                }
        Diamonds to Swine are despicable Things,             }
        Lost to the Mole the Vernal Verdure Springs,         }
        And Adders hiss tho’_ Senesino _sings.               }
        The Priestess speaks of him that gilds the Skies;    }
        Behold he comes, behold the God she cries:           }
        And swells, and foams, and rolls her frantick Eyes.  }
        Hark to the Noise a hundred Doors around,            }
        Spontaneous jarr, the vaulted Roofs rebound,         }
        And Words burst forth with more than mortal Sound._  }




------------------------------------------------------------------------




                         Persons of the Drama.


                           MEN.

                           Soarethereal.
                           Hurlothrumbo.
                           Dologodelmo.
                           Darony.
                           Urlandenny.
                           Theorbeo.
                           Lomperhomock.
                           Darno.
                           Primo.
                           Puny.
                           Temo.
                           Col. Countermine.
                           Genius.
                           Spirit.
                           Death.
                           _Lord_ Flame.


                           WOMEN.

                           Cademore.
                           Sermentory.
                           Seringo.
                           Lusingo.
                           Cuzzonida.




------------------------------------------------------------------------




[Illustration]


                            _HURLOTHRUMBO_:

                                OR, THE

                             SUPER-NATURAL.




                            ACT I. SCENE I.

           _Enter_ Dologodelmo _and_ Hurlothrumbo _meeting_.

_Dolo._ _Hurlothrumbo_, how goes the Muse?

_Hurlo._ _Dologodelmo_, have you heard the News?

_Dolo._ What News?

_Hurlo._ _Darno_, _Urlandenny_, and _Darony_, have coin’d their Estates
into Money.

_Dolo._ But for what reason?

_Hurlo._ Certainly Treason.

_Dolo._ Pray describe yourself in Prose.

_Hurlo._ It will be describ’d in Blows.
         There’s more in the Wind
         Than the wise Philosophers can find.

_Dolo._ No Storms, no Rebellions, I hope.

_Hurlo._ Nothing less, ’tis Pride, curs’d Pride, but let them climb to
fall.

_Dolo._ Pride, Pride is the Serpent’s Egg laid in the Hearts of all; but
hatch’d by none but Fools! Pray what says the King to these Adventures?

_Hurlo._ Say! he says and he says not, cares and he cares not, he’s King
and he’s no King; his high-born Soul is above the Sublunary World, he
reigns, he rides in the Clouds, and keeps his Court in the Horizon; He’s
Emperor of the superlative Heights, and lives in Pleasure among the
Gods; he plays at Bowls with the Stars, and makes a Foot-ball of the
Globe; he makes that to fly far, far out of the reach of Thought.

_Dolo._ But if he despises this World, and resides in the Climes above,
how must we fill our empty Troops below?

_Hurlo._ Oh take no thought for that, for when the least Spark of the
stifled Fire appears, then _Jupiter_, _Mars_, the King, will rise with
all the Gods to keep the Rebels under: They’ll make Drums of the
Elements and Skies, and beat up for Volunteers in Thunder.

                    _Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

_Ser._ Can you guess at the Cause of the King’s excessive Melancholy?

_Sem._ ’Tis Love, all Love; in his Travels he came to the Court of
_Spain_, where he fell in Love with _Cademore_, the King’s most
beautiful Daughter; and _Theorbeo_, her elder Brother, is link’d in
Friendship with _Soarethereal_. The King of _Spain_ has promis’d his
Daughter _Cademore_ in Marriage to the King of _France_; but
_Theorbeo_’s Passion for our Soveraign, was the Cause of his helping his
Sister in the Escape from the Arbitrary Power of a Father, and is daily
expected to arrive in this City: So ’tis Fear, Hope, Love is the Cause
of his Distress.

_Ser._ See, see, what frantick Man is this?

_Sem._ It is my Lord _Flame_, distracted in Love with you: Fall back,
let us hear his Soliloquy.

      _Enter_ Flame, _with a drawn Sword in his Hand, throws it on
                              the Ground_.

_Fla._ Thou Key of my Soul, unlock me not, I will not die and leave her
behind amongst corporeal Rivals; that she was dead, alive, amongst the
purest Spirits: Oh that this too, oh too, too dear, tender fond Heart
could yearn, and sigh no more! Constancy destroys me, Love makes me
Heavenly, and Tears refine the Soul: as a Pilgrim I will travel till a
Hermitage I find; I’ll mourn, I’ll wander to _Ovid_’s solitary Tomb;
I’ll pity that poor unfortunate Man; I’ll think of her I love the most,
and pour out my Tears upon him; there will I prostrate myself, and may I
slumber till the heavenly Harmony wakes the sleepy dead.

                                       [_Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

                   Oh! the deluding Creature,
                   Stings me from every Feature;
                   When you strive to gain me,
                   You only mean to pain me;
                   Cruel Deceiver, Heaven leave her,
                   Let her not come above,
                   To taste the Sweets of constant Love.

                                                                [_Exit._

_Sem._ Oh _Seringo_, entice not a Man to Love, except you design to
marry: If a radiant Beam dart from the Fire of the Eye, ’twill touch his
Inclination like Nitrous Powder, and flash through all his Veins,
discompose his Faculties, and infect his Soul: I am sorry for this poor
Man, ’tis dangerous to continue here, let us leave the place.

                                                                [_Exit._

    [_Scene changes, and discovers the King Sleeping upon a Couch._

                      _Enter to him_ Dologodelmo.

_King._ Oh _Godelmo_, why hast thou call’d me home to myself?

_Dolo._ I came according to your Majesty’s Commands.

_King._ As in Dreams the Souls of Hermits in secret Extasies are catch’d
away by Angels, so was my Spirit in transport charm’d by the Image I
most admire; she retreated, and at a distance gaz’d and lov’d, then
eagerly flying to my Arms, she stifled me with Kisses; but like to Sin
you call’d me away from Heaven. Oh! my _Cademore_, that I might die
always thus to live with thee; for when the Fetters of Slumber have
link’d these Limbs and the Ground together, when the Chains of Sleep
have bound this Body to the Earth; when these Eyes, these Ears are
insensible, I have other Eyes that see, other Ears that hear, and myself
rejoices when myself is dead.

                           [_The King sits down and pauses, then rises._

_Dolo._ The Solitarys wait without, and humbly desire admittance.

_King._ Do you know their Business?

_Dolo._ They come with sublime Tidings from the cœlestial World, and
will yield your Majesty pleasure through their own Simplicities.

_King._ Let them appear. [_Exit_ Dolo.] These Men despise the Company of
Mortals, and say they delight more in the Shadow of something, than to
converse with a Nothing in Substance.

                   _Enter_ Dolo. _and six Solitarys_.

_Primo._ My Sovereign Lord, we think ourselves in Duty bound to inform
you of all the Ills that threaten both your Person and your Crown, that
seems to be surrounded by many Adversaries.

_King._ How are you inform’d of this?

_Primo._ In Parable Visionary, deliver’d down and explain’d in
Hieroglyphicks.

_King._ But after what manner?

_Primo._ We all in one Night had the fame Vision; gazing stedfastly upon
your Dominions, the Hills sunk down to Vales, and the Valleys rose up to
Mountains, upon which a Giant stood, swelling huge with arroganting
Poison; his horrid Visage reach’d the Skies, grasping a Sword in his
Hand that flam’d from Earth to Heaven, glittering on high, and blaz’d in
Elemental Fire, upon whose mighty Edge, Death rode triumphant: Then in
Fury, as Lightning upon the Wing, slunk down, hissing through the Air,
the Wind from which, blasted every Head of us, and this Head is you my
Sovereign Lord.

_King._ Did this appear to all?

_Primo._ All, all, all.

                                                           [_Ex. Solit._

_King._ If Calamity be the Parent of Wisdom, why do the Afflicted depend
on Dreams?

_Dolo._ Your Majesty has no cause to fear.

_King._ If _Hurlothrumbo_ is brave, there is no danger.

_Dolo._ Was not his Courage truly try’d in _Rome_.

_King._ But after what manner?

_Dolo._ By the Emperor’s Imperial Command he was forc’d into the
Amphitheatre, there to be devoured by the hungry Jaws of a Lion;
disarm’d he enter’d, taking from his Heel his Ammunition Spur, he
wrench’d it wide, and gripe’d it thus.

                             _Enter_ Hurlo.

_King._ _Hurlothrumbo_, give me a Description of the Combat.

_Hurlo._ The Door of the Den was no sooner lifted up, but the Monster
hugely rouz’d himself aloft, stalking gravely he enter’d, flinging from
his Talons sedentary Pain, with Scarlet fiery Ogles ken’d all around;
but when I saw the Beauty of _Greece_, my Heart was all Granade, I had
an Army within, a Centry guarded every Pore, and this Compound of
Elements thundred. The Lion came at me amain, with Jaws open, dreadful
as the Mouth of Hell, he sprang aloft, I glanc’d, he mist me, then with
rebound he turn’d, and by the Main I caught him as he flew, and over his
Back I threw myself astride; then with my Knees I crush’d his Ribs and
Heart together, and with my Right-hand Spur I cleft his Skull: I bruis’d
the Pan of his Brain, till Flashes of Lightning flew swift from his
Eyes; I stabb’d his Sight, he twisted, he grinn’d, he turn’d and loose
he broke, bloodily blind as he was, in raging Storms, in circling
Whirlwinds flew; his burning Heart, that swell’d with Anguish, Fury and
Revenge; his Talons tore the Earth, rent the Flints, he gnaw’d the
Ground, and Choler boiling over, churning Dust, Blood and Foam, he
roar’d tremendous.

_King._ ’Tis a furious Description; but how did you conquer him?

_Hurlo._ My Coat I roll’d up thus, and hurl’d it to his Breast; then
eagerly grasping the Prey, I march’d towards him, I spurn’d at his
Heart; he reel’d, I retreated; he recover’d, I advanc’d; again I struck,
then trembling, he disgorg’d a Flood of Gore, and stifling with the
Stream, bolt upright he rose; I pursued my Strokes, he fainted, he sunk,
he shiver’d, he died.

_King._ _Hurlothrumbo_, ’tis bravely done; search out into all the
World, pick the Universe, bring to me every thing that’s noble in the
Mind, empty of Ambition and full of Greatness, that I may feast their
Bodies and satisfy my own Soul; for when my Crown adorns the Head of a
worthy Man, then I enjoy it, and wear it truly, in the inward Raptures
of my Heart.

_Hurlo._ ’Tis most certain the learned _Larmo_ is worthy of Honour.

_King._ I know him well, he has a thousand Perfections, though in him I
discern the Spark of Avarice, it seem’d to me like the infernal Eye of
_Lucifer_, ’tis a Canker that encreases and infects the Mind, let no
such Man be trusted; give me he that is like _Theorbeo_, that has
ventur’d and lost his Crown for his Friend: Is he yet arrived?

_Hurlo._ He is.

_King._ Go tell him, I’ll come and rejoice in his Presence.

                                                 [_Ex._ King _and_ Dolo.

                    _Enter_ Urlandenny _and_ Darno.

_Urlan._ _Darno_, a good Day to you, how prospers our Design?

_Darn._ Far exceeding our Expectation, I’ve sold my Estate for a hundred
thousand Pounds; it is to be return’d for the same Money, if I require
it, in seven Years.

_Urlan._ Mine is equally secured; this is a Defence against Ill, but now
we’ll speak for thy self; I am inspir’d with a Thought that will
overthrow the Government, that makes as strong as _Atlas_; I’ll make——

                             _Enter_ Flame.

_Fla._ The Flight takes me in the Head to give you a Description of the
War of Angels, the black ones and the white ones; now you are of the
dark kind, but they were conquer’d.

_Urlan._ How Prophetick the Man talks, as if he knew our Designs? The
Tongues of Children, Fools and Madmen have often fortold my Fate.

_Darn._ You are superstitious.

_Fla._ And as I was saying, Army in Array against Army, stood solemn,
profound, before the Cloudy Van, Expectation stood in Horrour, and
_Satan_, with vast and haughty Strides advanc’d, came touring, arm’d in
Adamant and Gold.

                            _Enter_ Darony.

_Dar._ Who do you mimick, my Lord?

_Fla._ The Devil, Sir.

_Dar._ I resent it.

_Fla._ Draw.

_Urlan._ Hold, he is repeating a Passage in _Milton_; his Wit is
borrow’d, he’s a Moon-light.

_Dar._ I’ll excuse him as a Lunatick.

_Urlan._ I recommend to thee a Miss, as a Specifick to assuage this
mighty Fever in the Brain.

_Fla._ I am unstain’d, not touch’d with any black Crime, above the
World, upon a lofty Mountain, and next Neighbour to the Sun.

_Urlan._ Now condescend the Woman lies two Yards below you, go down,
tick, toy and play with her, ’twill cool your Blood, and sweeten your
sour Juices.

_Fla._ Then how shall I ascend again to my grand Original Height? ’tis
up Hill; Woman pulls, Nature hangs heavy upon the feeble Soul, and
Resolutions weak; no, Conscience is an intellectual Caul that covers the
Heart, upon which all the Faculties sport in Terror, like Boys that
dance upon the Ice, if one cracks, another breaks, then all together
plunge in over Head and Ears most horrid.

                                                           [_Ex._ Flame.

_Urlan._ Pray what new Adventures at Court?

_Dar._ A poor King is arrived at Court, and _Dologodelmo_ Oratorys high
Encomiums upon the mighty _Soarethereal_, declares he’s like the
glorious Sun, extends his Beams to all and every part of the World; and
as he rides along the _Meridian_ Course, every feeble Plant beneath him
is cherished, and rises up revived.

_Urlan._ The Simile is not good: The Sun gives Life to the Plants that
reside far off, but those that grow under him are burn’d, and scorch’d
to Ashes. ’Tis plain, Foreigners are most encourag’d, and we that pay
the Taxes receive not the Benefit of Office; _Soarethereal_ declares all
the World are his Country-men, and he that has the greatest Soul, to him
is the nearest a-kin: but to the Purpose, what’s to be done? The Mob of
this City must be highly prejudic’d in our behalf.

_Dar._ They are all secure to a Man; I have distributed amongst them a
hundred thousand Pounds; let’s away to the Lord _Urme_, he will
strengthen our Design.

                                 [_Ex._ Darony, Urlandenny, _and_ Darno.


                     SCENE, _Cademore_’s Apartment.

                    _Enter_ Cademore _and_ Lusingo.

_Lusin._ My good Lady prepare, the King comes.

_Cade._ O _Lusingo_! I could longer taste the Sweets of Expectation
dear, I’d view the beautiful œconomy of this Court, his Person at a
distance, and Motion of his Soul, that moves and reigns in my Breast; we
may enjoy the greatest Bliss too too soon. Was I to leave this World,
and take my Flight to the celestial Heights, I’d first visit yon distant
Moon; then tow’ring high I’d visit the brightest Situation of the Sun;
then climb amazed up to the Stars; I’d taste the Sweets of every Orb,
before I enter’d Heaven.

                                                                  [_Ex._

              _Enter_ King, Theorbeo, _and_ Hurlothrumbo.

_King._ _Theorbeo_, thy constant Heart mourns for thy Mistress, not for
the Loss of thy Crown; the Powers are jealous of Love like thine, and
Heaven is only worthy of it, and only capable to make a return.

_Theo._ Your Majesty talks like a separate Soul, not like one that is
cloathed with Nature.

_King._ I beg pardon, I touch your Sore; I long to attend thee to the
Throne with a hundred thousand Men.

_Theo._ I return your Majesty thanks; yet hope, that no one will venture
his Life for me: the Life of a Friend is more than a Kingdom.

_King._ Venture my Life! what is my Life? let me not pass through this
World, the common Road to Eternity; fade away through the blasting Word
from on high, that mingles with the Air, and makes all Men mortal; I had
much rather surrender this Life up an offering, and die in the Service
of some dear Friend; in Vehemency of Spirit, and Fervency of Friendship,
I could plunge through a Flood of Fire to deliver a Friend from the Jaws
of a Lion.

_Theo._ I do believe ’tis in your Majesty’s Power to establish me upon
my Throne; but all Nature in my Breast is chang’d; that which is Gall to
another, is Honey to me: Life is bitter, and makes Death sweet. What is
a Post of Honour to a Man who thinks he has enough, and has no Ambition?
He that will be rich, must destroy Ambition; Ambition is a Monster not
to be fed, never satisfied till he is starved out.

_King._ ’Tis true, _Hurlo_; from whence proceeds Ambition?

_Hurlo._ A Man’s Heart and his Bladder changes Places.

_King._ And what is Honour?

_Hurlo._ Honour is, and it is not; yet Honour is to be found.

_Theo._ My Intellect has rang’d in pursuit of Honour throughout the
Universe, nay, even to the Skies, but found it not.

_Hurlo._ O it’s on t’other side, my Lord.

_King._ O _Theorbeo_, I admire how a Man can so much despise Power?

_Theo._ True Power lies in the Mind, or Strength that can sway the
Faculties.

_King._ I beg pardon for interrupting; I must beg leave to see the Lady
your Sister.

                                         [_Ex._ King, Theo. _and_ Hurlo.

   [_Scene changes, and discovers_ Cademore, Seringo, _and_ Lusingo.

                 _Enter_ King, _and salutes_ Cademore.

_Cade._ Oh he’s here! O my Soul starts, and my Heartstrings shiver!

_King._ O my _Cademore_, now I live: as that great Sun revives this
lower World, and makes all Nature rejoice in his Presence; so you
cherish and revive my Heart, all my Faculties rise up in Raptures: A
thousand sublime Thoughts spring up in my Soul: Is there any thing in my
Kingdom can yield you Pleasure.

_Cad._ Every thing here is pleasing to me. _Seringo_, Let the King hear
the musical Description of _Arsinoe_’s Dancing.

Ser. _Brisk and Airy, tript with a_ Fairy _Air of Scorn,
     Sink in the rising, all surprizing Charms adorn.
     Swift and Gay in every Part,
     And flies away with every Heart:
     Return’d them back with cold Despair,
     Which much reviv’d the jealous Fair._


                      _The End of the First Act._




------------------------------------------------------------------------




[Illustration]

                                ACT II.


                    _Enter_ Urlandenny _and_ Darony.

_Daro._ What News, my Lord?

_Urlan._ All things are in readiness according to your desire; _Darno_
is raising an Army in the _North_, _Lomporhomock_ is now landing in the
_South_ with 20000 Men, and when the Tidings reach the King’s Ears,
he’ll extend his Army to the _North_ and to the _South_; then, when his
Forces have left the City, the 500 Men which I have hired, for what
Purpose they know not, but exactly at two a-Clock in the Morning, each
Man is to fire a Gun upon the House-top; this repeated three times, will
drive every wandering Soul home to his Body, and raise him from Sleep
surprized.

_Daro._ That’s true.

_Urlan._ You and I with a small Body of Men, will march through the City
with a Shout, saying, The City is surrounded with Foreigners, Fire and
Sword, Fire and Sword! rise, rise quickly, rise to Arms.

_Daro._ That’s good; then in a moment’s time we shall be at the Head of
100,000 Men.

_Urlan._ We’ll plunder Misers Houses, distribute their Bags, hurling the
Coin among them, like Hounds besmear’d with the blood of Prey, mount
Resolution upon the Heart, ride furiously, Whip and Spur, and with deep
mouth’d Tones, full Cry, and in that Vehemence of Spirit, they will
devour a savage Lion. We’ll prejudice them against the King, lead them
to the Court, and take possession of all.

_Daro._ So farewel, my Lord; remember two a-clock.

                                                    [_Exeunt severally._

                    _Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

_Serin._ _Sementory_, to thy Tire.

_Sem._ I’m weary of Dress, pall’d with Pleasure, sick of the event of
vain Hopes: Some say that Marriage is made in Heaven; but ’tis my
Opinion, if all the Harlots were sent to the Grand _Turk_, there would
be more Weddings celebrated in Heaven than there are; I perceive the
Fire of the Men is all out.

_Serin._ Very true, _Sementory_.

_Sem._ They gaze upon a Woman, as they do upon a Bill of Fare after
Dinner.

_Sem._ Oh _Seringo_! where shall I find a vertuous Man, like such a one
that I have seen, chaste, and full of Rapture? Rapture is the Egg of
Love, hatched by a radiant Eye, that brings to Life a _Cupid_ in his
Breast. In thy Company he’s tasteless of Food and Wine, he’s restless,
he’s empty of Words, and full of Sighs, is in a shivering Ague chill’d;
then in a moment rais’d by the high Fever of Love, is in extatick
Raptures, his Opticks are like two Balls of Fire, and look as fierce as
if he took Gunpowder-Snuff; could you love such a one?

_Serin._ How gay, how free, how merry is he!
         How full of Charms to move!
         His Soul is full of Love.

                         _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo.

_Sem._ What, not a Word? sure ’tis pain to speak?

_Hurlo._ My Tongue is Thought’s Midwife, and has been a gossiping all
Night with a very fine Lady, and is not able now to perform her Office.

_Sem._ The rich _Molotto_ Lady, I presume?

_Hurlo._ She is rich, do you not like her for that?

_Sem._ But give me the Man that’s like the Bee,
       That flies round and round the Field to see,
       To taste of every Herb, to chuse the Sweet, to miss the Sour,
       He hovers and sings, and sucks the true Vertue from the Flower:
       But the mean Soul like yours that courts for Money,
       Is like the Wasp, will settle upon a Nettle for a little Honey.

                                         [_Ex._ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

                           _Enter_ Theorbeo.

_Hurlo._ The King will instantly wait upon your Majesty; but is now
engaged in the Affairs of the Government.

_Theo._ After what manner are you govern’d?

_Hurlo._ Spiritually and Temporally, King, Lords, Commons, Parsons,
Clergymen and Divines,

_Theo._ What is a Parson?

_Hurlo._ A Parson is——I beg pardon, the King comes.

                                                    [_Ex._ Hurlothrumbo.

_Theo._ _Adam_ before _Eve_ was made, longed for something he knew not
what; I long for something more than _Eve_, I know not where.

                             _Enter_ King.

_King._ _Theorbo_, why meditate yon thus? that Soul of thine that came
from Heaven, longs to leave me, to soar aloft and travel home; grieve
not thus for a Woman, I myself am tender, yet bold; I often weep in a
fine Lady’s Presence, but in a moment can conquer that Passion, and
venture my Life with a Lion; can lay my Hand under the Foot of an humble
Beggar, or take a lofty Emperor by the Nose.

                         _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo.

_King._ _Hurlothrumbo_, what Tidings from the World?

_Hurlo._ Not any that will please your Majesty; here are some poor Men
petitioning you for Charity.

_King._ That will doubly please me; I relieve them as Men, and satisfy
the Thirst of Compassion, at the same time, my Soul’s invested with
sacred Pride, think I am highly honour’d, and entertain the Gods.

_Hurlo._ Here is also a poor Prince sends to borrow Money.

_King._ That will also please me; I receive the Borrower with more Joy
than him that comes to pay a Debt.

                             _Enter_ Flame.

_Flame._ Beggars be gone, these Men sell Land upon the blue Plains; see
what a Figure they cut, who’ll buy any? Oh you, I know you well,
(_pointing to the King_) you are the most covetous Man in the Universe,
you give what you have away to the Poor, that you may enjoy it all
yourself; and when your time is to die, you’ll not leave a Farthing
behind you to fling away. I return you thanks for the Post of Honour you
offered me; but does your Majesty think a Soul like mine was born for
Servitude? No; I’ll sooner be an _Alexander_ in my own Park-Pale: He
that lives in Pleasure runs up a Score, and he that is afflicted, is
paying Debts; this is Spirit; what has Flesh to do with that? A Coquet
in the Soul, a Harlot for the Devil. I am a Man amazed in Love, Nature
is hot and too much fudled with Fire; in the out-raging Jealousies of my
Soul, I rent my Brain, and when my Rival was with her. I ran distracted
to her Cheeks, I kiss’d, I curs’d, I bless’d, I wept, an Earthquake in
my Breast, Thunder and Lightning in my Head, that storm’d down Tempest,
and burst my Heart. Oh what is Woman! I am sadly in Love, I am not well;
do kill me, O pity a Lover.

                                                           [_Ex._ Flame.

_King._ _Hurlothrumbo_, what is thy Opinion of this Man? my prophetick
Soul loves him.

_Hurlo._ I advise him to starve himself, from a Horse to a Man; for if
he dies at this time, he’ll be metamorphos’d into a wild _Elysian_ Colt.

      He’ll cock his Tail, he’ll praunce and stare,
      Will gallop, snort, and snuff the Air;
      And all his Thoughts will be of——

_King._ Pray tell me how does Love affect thee?

_Hurlo._ When I see a Lady with a full Chest, flat Back, falling
Shoulders, a long Neck, and a languishing Air, every Pulse beats up a
March vehemently towards her; I touch, I muse, I am in a Trance, a
pleasing Stupidity, Astunment, my Faculties are on fire, a Smoak rises
in the Eyes of the Mind, Reason is deaf, the Intellect blind, my Nerves
creep, I shiver; charm’d in Terror, the Body trembles in the Bargain of
buying Raptures with the Soul.

_King._ ’Tis not Love, it’s Temptation.

_Hurlo._ ’Tis a Description of a Combat, in which all Men are conquer’d.

_King._ Not so, _Hurlo_, I will speak for myself: Ambition high rose up
in the Mind, to fight with Vertue, in the beauteous Fair; and she a
superlative _Venus_ of the World; I was Fire, and Faculties keen; she
was Love with languishing Retreat, but when she surrendred all to my
Will; I struck not the Vanquish’d, but conquer’d myself.

_Hurlo._ ’Twas a noble Retreat, your Majesty bravely run away.

                            _Enter_ Servant.

_Serv._ The Lord _Dologodelmo_ waits without to speak to your Majesty.

                                  [_Ex._ Theorbeo, Hurlo, _and_ Servant.

_King._ I am at leisure——From whence this Distress in my Breast of late,
restless Nights, horrid Visions, affluster’d Spirits fly around my
Heart; my prophetick Soul, like _Argus_, discerns Destruction
approaching.

                            _Enter_ Dologo.

_Dolo._ If it be a Crime to bear ill Tidings, your Majesty’s Goodness
will oblige you to pardon.

_King._ Speak, speak _Godelmo_, thou art my Friend.

_Dolo._ Lord _Darno_ has sold his Effects at home, and is now raising an
Army in the Northern Parts of your Majesty’s Dominions; _Darony_ and
_Urlandenny_ are set out for the South, with the same Design.

_King._ Go, _Dolo._ and bring _Theorbeo_ hither to me. [_Ex._ Dolo.] Oh,
who shall deliver me from the Contagions of Mortals! that I had been
born in humbler State: Ye rural Shepherds, ye Companions of Angels, I
envy you: that I could be like to you, my Ambition only to reach the Top
of a Mountain, to lean upon my Staff, there to admire the beautiful
Œconomy of the Universe, listen to the Linnets, Larks, and Nightingales,
that warble forth their Praise on high; to the Sun they offer up their
Joy: these would teach me to be grateful. Of my Lambs, that innocently
sport all around me; of them I will learn Humility, and despite your
Arrogance: my Dog, that scouts upon the Plain, I’ll compare him with
you, and blush for you: he loves more, and is constant, a fervent
Friend, will fight till Death for his Master, rises not up against him
when he smites him; he’s grateful, he flatters not, and to your shame,
has more Compassion; for with his Tongue he’ll heal the Wound of the
Oppressed. Ye Rationals, learn of Brutes; and teach me to abhor Mankind.

                                                                [_Exit._

                  _Enter_ Theorbeo _and_ Dologodelmo.

_King._ _Theorbeo_, you say your desire is to exert yourself in the War,
I had much rather you’d stay; what say you?

_Theo._ ’Tis my desire, that my Spirits may rouze and shake off these
heavy Elements; the shining of my Soul is over-whelm’d with Clouds, I
long to discharge this heavy Hail-storm upon the Heads of all your
Adversaries.

_King._ _Godelmo_, is there any danger?

_Dolo._ There is not; when the Enemy hear the King’s Trumpet sound, it
will be as when the Lion roareth in the Forest, every Monster’s Heart
will tremble, and in a moment fly to their Dens for shelter.

_King._ See that Draughts are made out of my Troops, 20,000 of the most
proper Men. This moment I’ll review my Army.

                                                [_Ex._ King _and_ Theor.

                 _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo, _out of Breath_.

_Dolo._ What’s the matter now, my Lord, you seem to be out of Breath?

_Hurlo._ Out of Breath! I may well be out of Breath, the Wind may well
rise, the Conjurers are all at work, I have a Tempest in my Belly.

_Dolo._ Pray let the Storms cease, and let me hear the Cause.

                             _Enter_ King.

_Hurlo._ Cause! Cause enough; one _Lomporhomock_, a _Dutch_ Officer, is
just landed with 200,000 Men.

_King._ Go this moment, and get my Troops in readiness, and I’ll give
them the meeting myself.

                                               [_Ex._ Hurlo. _and_ Dolo.

I am rais’d above the common Height of Man, lifted up to the rattling
Climes of Discord, where _Dologodelmo_ and _Hurlothrumbo_ rumble along
the Sky, and says the Element begins to crack; but as the Lightning
flies before the Thunder-clap, so shall _Darony_ fly before me, or Death
shall swallow me up.

      But yet, shall I in this tempestuous Season,
      In furious headlong bid farewel to Reason?
      No; in Storms all Fools are hurrican’d in Mind,
      But Wisdom gently moves upon the swiftest Wind.

To fight, and in the heat of Blood, in an Agony, drop into Eternity, and
carry the Fire with me. O! let me not pause, let me not think, for if I
think, Divinity will make me like a Lamb, and then persuade me to be a
Coward; no, I’ll go and recommend

      My _Cademore_’s Charms to happy Fate that sent her,
      Then fly to War’s Alarms, and both my Lives will venture.

                                                            [_Ex._ King.

                    _Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

_Serin._ I am all at War within.

_Sem._ So much in Love with two Men! alas thy Combat will do you no
harm; you admire _Darone_ for his Honour, and _Hurlothrumbo_’s Bravery.

_Serin._ Oh advise me.

_Sem._ Of all Happiness, that is the most sweet that is the nearest to
us; Riches lie in the Purse, Love in the Heart: never marry for Honour,
or Title; Fame is always at a distance; the Man I love is near. What is
Fame? a Word; that Word is Wind, the humming of a Bee: but when I sleep
by the Man I love, no Wind can come to me.

                      _Enter_ Flame, _and sings_.

_Sem._ So, my Lord, your Aid is required at the Wars.

_Flam._ I’ll fly from the War, Love and War always jar; there is no Calm
in Love and War; let my _Seringo_ live with me, then farewel Honour,
farewel Care.

                                                                [_Exit._


                      _The End of the Second_ ACT




------------------------------------------------------------------------




                                ACT III.


                _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo _and_ Dologodelmo.

_Dolo._ _Hurlothrumbo_, are you ready to mount?

_Hurlo._ ’Tis confounded dark, must we not stay for the King?

_Dolo._ No; the Princess _Cademore_ will not hear of his going to the
Wars; at the Sound of the Word, she faints, sinks and dies away.

                                                           [_Exit_ Dolo.

        _Enter_ Servant _with a Letter, delivers it, and Exit_.

                                                     [Hurlo. _reads it_.

_Hurlo._ Oh ’tis from _Darony_! _Make me the next Man to the Crown, if I
desert the King_; how can I do that? Why did he not ask me to murder my
dearest Friend, curse the Deity, or debauch a Man’s Wife, and separate
their Souls eternal? _It will preserve a great deal of Blood_, that’s
true. _So long as_ Theorbeo _stays, thy Honour wears like a Garment_:
may be so; I’ll consider of this.

                                                          [_Exit_ Hurlo.

                    _Enter_ Darony _and_ Urlandenny.

                                             [_Guns fire at a distance._

_Daro._ They’re punctual to the time.

_Urlan._ True, my Lord.

_Daro._ This is the Place we’ll fix our Standard; now the Guns are
discharg’d, the Men from every end of the City with a Shout will come to
this Place, and stir not you an Inch till _Lomporhomock_ enters the
City. Who comes there?

                             _Enter_ Temo.

_Temo._ A Friend and Servant of thine.

_Urlan._ What is thy Name, and thy Business here in the Dead of Night?

_Temo._ My Name is _Temo_; as to my Business, ’tis secret.

_Urlan._ You are the famous Inchanter; can you tell us what Adventures
will happen, the cause of the Guns firing thus early?

_Temo._ ’Tis the first Volly of a mighty War; this Morning exactly at
two the Battle will be rehears’d first in the _Elysian_ Fields.

_Urlan._ Is it not possible for me to see it?

_Temo._ ’Tis possible.

_Urlan._ Accept of this Purse of Guineas; let me see, the time is now
expired.

                       [Temo _stamps, a Spirit rises up, and gives him a
                           Talisman_.

_Temo._ You shall, my Lord; hold this firm to your right Eye: tell me
what you see.

_Urlan._ I see the _Elysian_ World, ’tis light as Noon of Day, and all
us Mortals act in yonder Climes: I see myself, I see _Hurlothrumbo_;
_Hurlo_ kisses a Lass; the Spirits smile; I stir my Hand, it moves
yonder. _Mars_ stands in the Element, and beholds the People; they
divide, and make two separate Armies; Death stalks among the Croud,
marking his own Appointed. Oh! he makes towards me! oh! he’ll touch me;
take it I’ll see no more.

                   [_A shout behind the Scenes, Fire and Sword! Fire and
                       Sword! rise quickly._

_Daro._ This is _Puny_’s House, the Miser, break it open.

_Urlan._ Forbear, forbear he’ll rise and open the Door; fall back, he
comes.

_Daro._ I’ll go head the Mob, break open the King’s Treasury, and
satisfy their Thirst with Gold; then will I take possession of his
Person, and his Crown.

                                                              [_Exeunt._

                             _Enter_ Puny.

_Puny._ Oh bless me! Fire and Sword! I shall not live three Minutes! if
my trembling Limbs permit me, I’ll kneel, I’ll pray Heaven preserve my
poor Soul; these Villains will come in a moment, and take every Penny of
my Money; I desire I may be forgiven all my Sins. These Rogues are
coming, they’ll rob me, take my Plate, and break my Windows: O sweet
Heaven forgive me all my ill-dreamt visionary Lewdness! If they come, I
shall never purchase _Kemp_’s Estate, but buy a Coat of Arms, and a
Patent for my Son.

                     _Enter_ Urlandenny _and_ Temo.

_Urlan._ So old _Gaddecar_, you’re at Prayers, cry aloud, thy Deity is
deaf, with your squinting Soul that kens both Earth and Heaven; fling
your Bags into the Elements, then will you look straight upright: Be
gone, what hast thou to do in this World? What dost thou mean?

_Puny._ I mean to be the Root of a Family.

_Urlan._ If the Root be Avarice, what will the Body, Branches, Leaves
and Fruit be? Twenty Generations must pass away, before thy Seed can be
refined so far, as to produce a Gentleman.

_Puny._ Is not Gold a Gentleman, a Person of Quality? What makes a
Gentleman?

_Urlan._ Education, Honour, and Generosity; add to a fine Gentleman
Love, Resolution, Taste; a Person of Quality has all these Perfections,
and is discerning, with a sublime Thirst in the Soul; a longing to
reward Merit; fervent to serve the meanest, and punctual to his Word;
his Blood is double and treble refin’d; he’s full of Heaven; a Sunfire;
a Light that quenches all the Flame of Nature; he lets himself down to
converse with great Men and Angels, that are in Intellect but three
Inches high.

_Puny._ Cannot a new-born Gentleman have all these Perfections?

_Urlan._ No, your Upstarts are huge, and tall, converse with a Prince of
the Air, and their Nostrils are full of the Devil.

                                                  [_Ex._ Pun. _and_ Tem.

                      _Drums beat. Enter_ Darony.

_Dar._ Now, my dear Friend, all is secured, the King is in Chains.

_Urlan._ What Drums are these?

_Dar._ _Lomperhomock_, the _Dutch_ General.

                         _Enter_ Lomperhomock.

My Lord _Lomperhomock_, you’re welcome to Court.

_Lom._ I wish you much Happiness of your Crown, when it is secured.

_Dar._ I hope there is no Danger.

_Lom._ ’Tis my earnest Desire that you will instantly execute the King;
for while he’s living, all his Friends will rouse up like Lions, but
when they hear he’s dead, ’twill greatly oppress their Souls.

_Dar._ He shall instantly be executed.

_Lom._ Then I’ll march in Pleasure, and meet his Army.

                                          [_Ex._ Urland. Dar. _and_ Lom.

               _The Scene changes to the King in Prison._

_King._ I would ask Relief of Heaven, though ’tis in vain, when all the
eternal Infernals are turn’d out loose upon me, to pour out their
flaming Cataracts of mighty, limited Revenge.

                         _Enter_ Lomperhomock.

_Lomp._ Pardon me, oh King, I am come to inform you, at Six a-Clock this
Morning is your appointed Time to die.

                                                            [_Ex. King._

_King._ Let them strike me, let these Clouds pass away; let them break
the Sky within me, that I may truly see, enter Orbs like the Sun; see
Spirits, Angels, and the radiant Fields: but what is that to a Man in
Love, a Man whose Heaven’s here? Oh my _Cademore_, who can bear the
Pangs of parting! since we must part, ’tis death to live.

                           _Enter_ Cademore.

_King._ O Executioner art thou come, bring to me a Taste of Torment, a
Rack of Nature, like Heaven’s Vengeance, to afflict my Soul? Still thou
art my Friend, and something more than Woman, my Prospect-Glass to
Paradise; thou Emblem of Eternity; oh how great’s my Thought of Heaven,
whilst my Eyes are fix’d on thee! For if the way to live with you, lay
through the Shades of Misery, to lodge in tremendous Caves of Darkness,
one single Thought of thee would fill Obscurity full of Light, and make
it like a Palace adorn’d with Diamonds: but now, oh now, what is my
Hope, a Man is never destitute of Hope; but my dear Expectation, my
Spring of Life, is now become the Sting of Death: for every Thought of
thee shoots through my Heart; and at a Sight of thee, oh ye Goddess!
that I could love thee less, and Heaven more.

_Cad._ I am sorry I encrease your Grief, I come in hopes to mitigate
your Pain; for every Sigh that proceeds from you, pursues me, and
ecchoes in my Breast.

_King._ That I believe, it must be so; ’tis so in Love, ’tis so in
Musick, ’tis so in Souls; the fine in Raptures sympathize with cœlestial
Joys, revived by all their Unisons in Heaven; but to free thee from
Pain, I’ll think no more of Life below, but fly to nobler Thoughts, and
pursue my Hopes in Happier Climes.

_Cad._ Cease not to vent your Grief for my Relief, ’tis my Delight to
share with you in Suffering; but rather wish that all may be fixed on
me, that I may take them to some gentle Stream, and then to lay me down
to stifle all in Waves; and there, oh there, let my Spirit expire.

_King._ Nay, no more of that, if thou be my Friend, hate me, be lewd, be
infamous, that I may banish thee; oh let me banish thee from every
Glance of Thought, that I may take my Sleep, my lasting Sleep in Peace.

_Cad._ Name not that to me.

_King._ Name not what?

_Cad._ Your Death, my Lord.

_King._ ’Tis Death to resign up thee, to yield thee into others Arms; oh
my _Cademore_, be a Virgin still, for if you marry, you part from me,
and make me jealous in Eternity.

_Cad._ Let no Thought of that arise, the Pangs of your Death will always
smart in me, keep me from all and every Thought of Man.

_King._ The Pangs of my Death smart in thee, there is no pain in Death,
the Sound of your Words is Musick to my Soul, and makes the ever-living
Youth rejoice, and leap for Joy, being ripe for birth, desires to go to
Life; but this Body, this timorous Mother Earth; alas she shivers, and
dreads the Hour of her Travail, but when that Midwife Death in Life
shall give me Birth, Oh! may it be in that Kingdom where thou in long
Eternity shall shine; and if my Happiness be no more than what I
conceive in thee, and that to last for ever, then let the World say I am
nothing, I am dishonourable, the Crown of my Head is dropped from the
Kingdom of my Body, so that I may say I live with thee, but when we
part.

_Cad._ O my Soul!

_King._ O Heaven!

_Cad._ Oh Angels!

_King._ Burst Heart, and let me fall.

_Cad._ Oh Death! quickly to my Aid.

_King._ Oh my _Cademore_, live!

_Cad._ If it must be so, come visit me after Death.

_King._ Oh how can I promise that? If this great Sun should refuse his
Heaven, and slide from Orb to Orb, leave the Elements, prostrate himself
on the Earth, fall a Victim at thy Feet, it would only serve to surprize
and fire thy Heart; blind thy mortal Eyes; and lest the Garment of the
Intellect be thus incomparable and Glorious, make me not promise, for if
I promise, ’twill make me uneasy in Heaven, ’till I perform my Word; but
if I can entreat to thy Guardian Saint, then I’ll attend thee all the
Day, hover and settle upon thy Pillow all the Night, where I’ll converse
with thee in Visions, and when thy Time is full done, I’ll wait and
watch the closing of thine Eyes, and then will I catch away thy Soul in
a Divine Transport; with Cœlestial Wings we’ll soar to the Lofty
Mountains in the Clouds, when they shall dissolve like a Bed of Down;
our inward Hearts shall kiss each other in Love, in Extasy, and then
we’ll fly away together from all Adversity.

                       [Cademore _faints, and is carried off the Stage_.

      Oh my Soul stealeth from me.
      Clippeth and hangeth upon thee.

                                                      [_King lies down._

                  _Enter_ Theorbeo. _The King rises._

_King._ Oh _Theorbeo_, I perceive there is an End of Hope; it was my
fear they would conquer thee, and bring thee to this Place of Adversity.

_Theor._ It is not so, my Lord, I have left your Troops in trusty Hands,
and am come here, that you may make your Escape in my Habit; and by that
Time you have reach’d to the Army, I being a Stranger, will pass the
Centry again, and come to your Majesty.

_King._ ’Tis an inspired Thought, we’ll put it in Execution.

                    [_The King dresses himself in_ Theorbeo_’s Clothes_.

Oh _Theorbeo_, grieve not, every Sigh of thine, will make my Heart to
weep Drops of Blood; consider a small Affliction by chance may happen;
but these great Calamities, must proceed from something Great; and if
so, it is Philosophy to rejoice.

_Theor._ But Nature conquers Philosophy, and is a match for Divinity: I
am sometimes at wars with my Will, whether to fly to Sin for Refuge, or
to Heaven for Relief.

_King._ My Lord I’ll haste away, and in one Hour expect to see you
again.

_Theor._ When I think you’re safe, I’ll follow.

                                                            [_Ex. King._

                     _Enter_ Dologodelmo _guarded_.

O _Godelmo_, what brings thee to this Place of Misery? Speak quickly,
though I dread to hear.

_Dolo._ May all the Ills that are preparing in the Elements, be dash’d
on the Head of _Hurlothrumbo_, that I might die, and my Soul join with
his Adversary; I’d fly swiftly with the Ball, and direct it to his
inward Heart.

_Theor._ Curse him not; has he deserted you?

_Dolo._ We no sooner entered the Field, but he joined the Adversary; may
Heaven pour down upon him the bitter Blessings, the Honey Curse, the
gilded Pill, that satisfies Desire, and infects the Mind; give him
Riches, and make him love them, then will he be abhorred of Men, the
Spirits, the Angels, and the Gods: may a proud Sign appear in his Face,
that he may be a Tavern for Devils to riot and banquet in; let him
pamper Nature, feed high, to destroy his Taste; so blind all the
Beauties of the Mind; then will his hungry Pleasure devour up all the
eternal Treasure of his Soul.

_Theor._ _Godelmo_, let thy Passion cease.

_Dolo._ O pardon me, I must be alone, and burst my Heart with sighing.

                                                            [_Ex._ Dolo.

_Theor._ O that Heaven would erect an Altar where Man might sacrifice
himself an Offering; then surely the Blood of great Men would dye the
Spring, the Rivers, and the Seas. O my Soul is full of Calamity, and my
Heart is sore with Sorrow.

                             _Enter_ Flame.

_Fla._ Just now my Rival is with her; I tremble thus in the solemn
Gloom, the Noon of Night; my wakeful Soul can find no rest, but from a
jealous Dream I start, I rise amazed, in the Face of the Elements, bow,
sigh, and think of Sorrow; I wonder what the Moon thinks of me. Oh when,
oh when, shall Time and Sorrow cease! Surely _Cupid_’s Dart is the Sting
of Death; oh dear Death, oh how I could hug thee. What Sign is it when a
Man’s Heart is broken?

_Theor._ That he is in love.

_Fla._ Come, do, let you and I weep together, and pour out all the sour
Anguish of our Souls: Women are cruel Creatures; tho’ I could kiss her a
thousand thousand Times; oh ye inconstant Wretch, yet I will press my
Check to thine, weep, sigh, and part Eternal; Oh!

      Oh you dearest Creature,
      Heaven is seen in every Feature
      Is there no such thing, as learning Charms to move?
      No, no, no, ’tis Gold and Honour makes the Fair to love:
      Angel, ’tis in vain, if you come like a Swain,
      With all your Harps and Arts, and Sweets to please from _Jove_.




------------------------------------------------------------------------




                                ACT IV.


                      _Enter_ Bellman _and Sings_.

      Good Morn, good Morn, my Masters all good Morn!
      Whilst I poor Mortal wander here below,
      You what’s most pleasing know,
      No Charm’s so deep, how charming, how sweet
      It is to fall within the fair Enchantress Arms asleep;
      But if I chance to wake you with my Bell,
      Be sure you let my Mistress know you’re well;
      And if you please her, as you ought to do,
      She’ll thank you, Master, and the Bellman too.

                                                                [_Exit._

                    _Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

_Sem._ I have had no Rest this Night, my flustrated Spirits, my troubled
Soul rais’d me from my Couch to my Terrass, where I beheld all Nature in
Confusion, the City in Uproar, the Brave in Distress; Spears of Fire,
fighting in the Elements; the King’s Solitaries scrambling up the lofty
Hills, by the Light of the Moon; they prostrated themselves on the
Ground, and invoke Heaven for good towards their Master.

_Ser._ I laid me down, and could not rest, I am uneasy for want of
Sleep.

_Sem._ Who can sleep when a Lover’s false! This Morning _Cademore_
intreated for the Life of the King; and as she kneel’d before _Darony_,
her Sighs, her Tears, her Beauty has made him passionately in Love with
her; yet chear up thy self, and still have hopes; when a Woman has a
mind to gain a Man, she may study his Constitution, and what he likes.

_Ser._ Oh _Sementory_, I have had cruel Dreams.

                         _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo.

_Hurlo._ Ladies, what are you upon now?

_Sem._ Dreams my Lord.

_Hurlo._ Can you interpret, Madam?

_Sem._ You’re sure of my best Endeavours, my Lord.

_Hurlo._ As I was alone in my Chair, I slumber’d, I thought myself
mounted before a beautiful Wife upon the solemn Desarts of _Arabia_,
where a dark, black Cloud overwhelm’d the Desart; a stormy, tempestuous
Wind arose, and ripped up ragged Rocks, then drove them furiously over
the Plain, like tremendous Bullets of Thunder; and all the dreadful
Engines of eternal Misery rose up in Arms; I was in a Moment surrounded
with wild Monsters, fighting with one another which should devour me
first; my Horse tired, my Wife fell in Labour, the Element opened her
fiery Mouth, and pour’d out Cataracts of Lightning and Hail; all the
Pile of Building in the other World was tumbling down upon my Head, and
how I came into my Body, I know not.

_Sem._ You’re happy you had a Body to shelter you: this prognosticates
you’ll endure great Calamities, and at the last lose your Mistress.

_Hurlo._ This is my Mistress; _Darony_, my Rival, is dead in Love to
thee; since he’s cruel and inconstant, pour out thy Grief in merry
Sounds; you must part.

_Ser._ Part, and never meet no more:

      How can I bear to see that gloomy Day,
      No, no, no, no, I’ll be a Soul, and fly away,
      In merry Sounds, I will pour out my Pain,
      And never think of Man again.

                                                  [_Ex._ Sem. _and_ Ser.

                             _Enter_ Primo.

_Hurlo._ Honest Solitary, what brings thee to Court to-day?

_Primo._ I am come in hopes to see our Lord and Master _Darony_.

_Hurlo._ He will be here instantly, and desires you will be Counsel to
him, as you was to _Soarethereal_.

_Primo._ When he is King, I will be his Subject; till then, I am
fervently so to my Soveraign.

                            _Enter_ Darony.

_Hurlo._ Much Joy to your Majesty; I perceive Heaven’s Frowns are
departed from your Dominions: what an Alteration in the Elements! and
all Nature seems to rejoice; _Phœbus_ till now hath ceas’d to shine upon
the foggy Globe for many Weeks.

_Dar._ This Morning I perceiv’d the bright Angel in the Sun, that water
and warms this lower World, drive away swiftly the Clouds from his
Presence; he open’d high the Casement of Heaven, and sweetly smiled upon
me.

_Hurlo._ _Primo_, what thinkest thou of that?

_Primo._ When I gaze upon the Sun, I sink into myself, full of Humility;
I also learn Lowliness of the Moon; when she looks over the Brow, and
begins to rise, she’s huge and dull; she swells like an outstretch’d
Hero; but as she climbs, she clears, she soars aloft diminutive, that
she may shine among the Stars.

_Hurlo._ Mr. Humility, your humble Servant.

_Primo._ Every one that petitions must be humble, or else his Petition
will not be granted.

_Dar._ Art thou a Petitioner?

_Primo._ In the Name of _Soarethereal_ I am, who fervently desires the
Life of _Theorbeo_.

_Dar._ He shall not perish by the Hands of Man; but I have sworn a
mighty Thirst of Revenge; he shall take his Chance in the Room of
burning Glass: be thou humble still, and petition Heaven; cry aloud in
Vocal Perspiration of thy Soul; thy Words, like Thunder, sound in the
Elements, and alarm the Angels on high; then if thou hast Power above,
let _Phœbus_ cease to shine, or _Theorbeo_ cease to live.

_Primo._ Then he must not live.

_Dar._ No, he shall not live.

_Primo._ Oh how Men condemn themselves!

                                                           [_Ex._ Primo.

_Dar._ Compassion is a Weakness in Man, it may become a Woman; not but I
feel the Failing in myself, tho’ I conquer it and keep it under, lest it
should appear to the World.

_Hurlo._ That’s true, my Lord.

_Dar._ I am inform’d _Soarethereal_ is in a Wood with 20000 Men, and
designs to conquer there or die; and I myself will be there present at
the Slaughter.

_Hurlo._ There is no danger of him, my Lord; he is surrounded with 60000
Men, and was he a Grashopper, he could not escape your Armour.

_Dar._ Then I’m at peace within; yet _Cademore_ still runs in my Mind:
let us haste to her Apartment, and if she will not consent to marry,
I’ll force her.

                                                              [_Exeunt._


                           SCENE, _a Prison_.

      _Enter_ Theorbeo, _and_ Dologodelmo _looking on his Watch_.

_Theor._ Our Time is almost expired.

_Dolo._ I think this Finger is like the Dart of Death, upon the Figure
of Twelve sits my Life; Oh how it steals to sting!

_Theor._ Those are melancholly Thoughts, think not of Death, but of
Life, or of any thing that will divert thee most.

_Dolo._ When I think my King is in misery, and _Darony_ upon his Throne;
when the Noble suffer, and Miscreants are blest, then my Faculties
within me rejoice; there is a secret Thought in that, which revives my
very Soul.

_Theor._ A small Offence unthrones the Noble, but infamous Actions raise
a Tyrant.

                    _Enter Guards and Executioner._

_Theor._ After what manner must we suffer?

_Dolo._ In the Room of burning glass.

_Theor._ Then what means this Executioner?

_Dolo._ If the Sun destroys us not, as he rides along the Meridian
Course, by this Man we must be slaughtered.

_Offic._ My Lord, your Time’s expired; Guards attend here.

                             _Enter_ Flame.

_Fla._ But hold, I’m come to give you a Description of your happy Flight
to the _Elysian_: Your Neck’s no sooner laid to the Block, but the
Stroke’s given; immediately your Soul begins a March through all the
Elements: in the Body first, you’re confin’d five Minutes in the Regions
of Fire, amazed, amidst the verdant green Climes of Water and Air; you
pass then heavily through the solemn Gloom of Earth; you go, you faint,
the Soul bows, farewel to Nature; you fall into a dark, black Slumber, a
Trance; and when the Spirit touches you upon the Elbow, you wake
surpriz’d in a World of Light; there you see _Shakespear_, _Milton_,
_Homer_, sprightly, alert, alive, flying swiftly through the radiant
Climes, to visit the Wits of every Generation; the Rich, Poor, the
Merry, Mournful; the pamper’d, hungry Souls are there. Alas, the Scene
is chang’d, you’ll not pity them; Queen _Eliz._ is in her Hut, selling
of fry’d Fritters; _Pompey_ and _Alexander_ carry Charcoal to feed her
Fires; the Great Mogul, the Czar, the grim Bashaw, the Emperor, the
Grand Turk and _Cæsar_, are scrambling for the Drops of the Pan, and as
they are wont, are scuffling for Trifles, till it raises their
inextinguishable Rage to Loggerheads, cutting, flashing, carbonading
_Nero_’s Buttocks; nay, they’re all fighting in Blood up to the Ears,
and there is the Devil to do amongst them.

                                                          [_Exit_ Flame.

_Theo. Dologodelmo_ farewell.

_Dolo._ Our Time is come to part.

_Theo._ Farewell, my Lord farewell, this World is all Departure; Oh that
I could appoint a Place to meet thee after Death; yet through the
ranging of my Soul at Liberty, I’ll surely ken thee afar; methinks I see
thee shine upon the brightest Mountain in the highest Orb, stretching
forth thy self, and pluming thy immortal Wings, preparing to take thy
everlasting and eternal Flight; and when we meet to part no more, may
all our Song be Love, in Divine Tranquility.

_Dolo._ This lofty, sublime Speculation, proceeds from your own Virtue,
not from my Merit; for if the Work of this Life, makes a Garment for the
Soul, mine will be stain’d with Avarice, Debauchery and Revenge; you are
Innocent: O Innocence! thou only Traveller to Heaven, farewell for ever.

                                                                  [_Ex._


                            SCENE, _a Wood_.

                  _Thunder and Lightning. Enter_ King.

_King._ What a Smell of Sulphur is here? Was ever Day like this? surely
all the Infernals are rising up in Arms, in Thunder, Lightning, and
Hail; the Air’s in a Flame; I think my self in the Sun, expecting every
Moment to be dissolv’d, and Conscience smiles.

                                                            [_Ex._ King.

       _A_ Genius _descends in a Cloud, and_ Death _enters upon a
                            pale-dun Horse_.

_Death._ Thou Genius of the King, confront me not.

_Genius._ Oh Death, thou long-liv’d Mortal, say for what art thou come,
thus proudly aloft, and hieroglyphick mounted?

_Death._ To Wars, Victory, Revenge, with Stings from _Lucifer_ my
imperial Grandfather; I drive my Parent Man from Nature; I’ll die, be
born again, and pursue him in Eternity.

_Genius._ Thus when Man commits a Crime, he creates a Fiend to fight
against him: remember thou Toad of Hell, all the Elements that compound
the Nature of Mortals, are now conspiring against thee.

_Death._ Discord horrid!

_Genius._ Thou Off-spring of Sin, that is, of that Nature that will draw
upon it all the eternal Vengeance of Heaven!

_Death._ Thou mak’st me tremble.

_Genius._ Tremble thou, when yon marble Sky shall rent, flashing swift
as the Lightning glimpse away; when crimson Elements appear, and Fury
rides on flaming Winds, and spreads himself abroad, deep in the Bowels
of this Globe shall wake, nay twice ten thousand Thunders, renting the
rocky Mountains, and hurling Kingdoms to the Sky; Cataracts of Fire, and
purple Storms shall rage, and hurricane thy infernal Soul.

_Death._ Discord horrid!

                                                           [_Ex._ Death.

                             _Enter_ King.

_King._ Man, what is thy Business here to interrupt my Solitude?

_Genius._ I follow the Oppress’d, where I often find Relief.

_King._ What is thy Name?

_Genius._ My Name is secret, I was Tutor to a young Man, and when I
corrected him to cure Pride, he resisted and rose up against me, and for
that Reason I have left him for a Season.

_King._ And will Calamity cure Pride?

_Genius._ Behold yon pamper’d high-fed Colt, unoppress’d, at ease,
unbroke, he leap’d his Mounds, and sported all abroad; he saw a Lamb, a
Nightingale, a Dove; he started, snorted, and bridled with Disdain, with
twisted Neck and cocking Tail, with bended Knee he bounds away,
disdaining all he sees; but now his Back is stain’d with Saddle-marks,
his Mouth is gaul’d with Bridle-bit; and he that despis’d the Lamb, the
Dove, the Nightingale before, now is tam’d, and feeding with a Goose and
Boar.

_King._ Alas! I pity thee; here is all the Money I have, and this Ring;
’twas given me by one I most admire.

_Genius._ But why do you give me all?

_King._ I am distress’d my self, and design to ask Relief of Heaven.

_Genius._ I will speak of thy Generosity, and force my Words to the
highest Heaven; Angels will love and long for thy coming on high; rapp’d
with thy Fame will wing away, warbling as the Swift, to meet thee in thy
flight.

                                                          [_Ex._ Genius.

_King._ From whence this inward Joy, as if the Musick of the Spheres,
and heavenly Song, penetrate the Sky, and eccho in my Soul.

                            _Enter_ Officer.

_Offic._ I am inform’d from the City, that _Darony_ has taken Possession
of all, and is now crown’d, and the People greatly rejoice:
_Lomporhomock_ and _Hurlothrumbo_ are come down with an Army of 60000
Men, and threaten in a Moment to destroy you and your Troops.

                                                         [_Ex._ Officer.

_King._ The excessive Storm blows up the Fire of my Soul, and makes me
long to fight; every String of my Heart is firm, is stony as the Lion’s
Nerve; it rises in my Breast, it leaps, it yearns; Oh great is my
Desire! I am all athirst, not for the Blood of my Adversaries, but for
the Freedom of my Friends.

                            _Enter_ Officer.

_Offic. Theorbeo_ is at the Place of Execution; he desires to be
interr’d under his Statue in the Grove, that if you ever come to your
Kingdom, you may sometimes walk and think of him.

                                                        [_Exit_ Officer.

_King._ Oh when shall this Dramatick World be done! but yet with me
indeed it is. Oh when shall the End of all Things come! When shall the
Musick of the Spheres break out! like Trumpets found Alarms, and Thunder
in Bases roar? Oh when shall the glittering Crouds of Angels tread the
Stages of the Sky, to sing the Chorus at the End of Time! Sing, oh
Chant, with Sounds to metamorphose Man; and make me, oh make me any
thing but what I am!

                            _Enter_ Officer.

_King._ Why do you pause?

_Offic._ I fear to speak.

_King._ Speak, for I dread not to hear; this Moment I will fight and die
with my Army.

_Offic._ The Princess _Cademore_ is now forc’d in Marriage to _Darony_.

                                                        [_Exit_ Officer.

_King._ O there is the Sting! Have I lost, for ever lost, every thing
that’s dear to me in Life, my Crown, my Mistress, and my Friends? Rise
up now, thou Strength of Reason, and pull down the Passion of my Soul;
oh let the Curtain of the Clouds be lifted up, the Scenes, the Elements
depart asunder; and may some piercing penetrating Eye in tender Pity
gaze upon me!

                            _Enter_ Officer.

_Offic._ The Enemies assaults us in our Trenches, we must either fight
or die, and only wait for your Majesty’s Commands.

_King._ Depart, I’ll instantly be with you. [_Exit_ Officer.] Yet hold,
20000 to engage with 60000, there must be great Courage or Contrivance,
tho’ I have known brave Men naked have beaten Cowards in Armour; I have
also heard of the _Grecian_ Contrivance, their Horse: I scorn to
overcome by Stratagem, no, I’ll raise up the Spirit of my Army; I’ll
give them to drink Brandy mix’d with Gun-powder, and in the Anguish and
Bitterness of my Soul, I’ll slash it through the Veins, and mingle it in
the Blood of every Man, that they altogether may be one in the Image of
a Dragon.

      With fiery Heart and flaming Eyes,
      To every Part the Sulphur flies;
      The Wings extend, the thorny Points display,
      The Sting from Mouth ascends, and shuts for happy Day:
      The Heart, the Eyes, the Sting, the Feet, the furious Claws,
      Mount all up on the Wing, and fly amidst the Foes;
      Then Lightning from the Nostrils flies.
      Swift Thunder-bolts from Anus, and the Mouth will break,
      With Sounds to pierce the Skies, and make the Earth to quake:
      And if one Part should chance to fail,
      I’ll prick him on with speary Tail.


SCENE, _Cademore_’s Apartment.

                    _Enter_ Cademore _and_ Seringo.

_Cad._ See who comes here?

_Serin._ ’Tis the Lord _Flame_.

                             _Enter_ Flame.

_Flame._ My Soul is outrageous in Pursuit of my Rivals, and mounts my
Body Upon the Wing; flies through the Woods, rips up the lofty Oaks,
splits the Rocks, plows up the Seas. Oh this scandalizing World!
disgrace the noble _Oliver_, and say, that he is Gunpowder-maker to the
Devil; and that _Lucifer_ reads the Scriptures, that he may plead
against Mortals. See, see those two glow-worms how they glitter; these
are _Cleopatra_’s radiant Eyes, just scrall’d up from her Body,
ambitious to vie against the Stars: How vain is Woman! veil thy Bosom,
those heaving Monsters fire me; oh that I was a Child again, that I
might suck!

                                                          [_Exit_ Flame.

_Cad._ I pity this poor unfortunate Man, I feel his Distemper approach
my Brain.

               _Enter_ Darony, Cademore _turns from him_.

_Daro._ Dear Lady fly me not, stay and hear me speak; _Ovid_’s Words in
_Bonon_’s Sound, cannot describe the Passion of my Love.

_Cad._ Cruel Man, follow me not; if you love me, do not augment my
Torment.

_Daro._ I am come with Comforts to feed the distressed Soul, I love.

_Cad._ What in me, do you admire?

_Daro._ Your Person, Madam.

_Cad._ They are Brutes that marry Bodies; the Mind is all that can be
loved; the other is a Desire proceeds from Nature vicious, urged by Food
and Wine: Live low, and you’ll not love me.

_Daro._ Oh ’tis in my Soul, I admire the Mind!

_Cad._ Then if you converse, you enjoy; what can you ask for more?

                 _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo, _and a_ Parson.

_Hurlo._ Come along, Sir, the King will make you a Bishop.

_Daro._ My Love, my Life, my Fire, to thee shall all be given;
        I’ll make thee taste of earthly Joys, and fetch thee down from
           Heaven:
        A Power that will without controul,
        Knock down all the Centrys of the Soul.

Sir, perform your Office.

                                              [_Speaking to the_ Parson.

_Par._ Madam, are you willing to be married?

_Cad._ I am not.

_Hurlo._ Never mind that.

_Par._ ’Tis my Sovereign, and I must obey.

           _Enter_ Flame, _with Pistols, and a drawn Sword_.

_Fla._ This Dagger will I heat red-hot in the crimson Blood of _Darony_,
with which I’ll spear the Heart of _Seringo_, that Weather-cock; I’ll
raise it upon some Pinacle or Spire; it shall ever whirl about with
every Blast; myself I’ll dissolve into Air; I’ll make the stormy Winds
to blow, the petty Breezes shall have no Power; but I’ll reign King of
Tempest.

_Hurlo._ My Lord, can I serve you? Do you please to accept of
Assistance?

_Flame. Hurlothrumbo_, what hast thou done with _Seringo_, hid her in
thy Belly? Speak, in a moment speak, or I’ll rip it open, and let her
out.

_Hurlo._ O no! ah hold! oh pray give me leave, and I’ll answer you!

_Fla._ Speak! quickly speak! or like a Griffin stuff’d with Fire and
Gunpowder, I’ll blow thy Limbs and Stings to every Part of the Globe!

_Hurlo._ Oh ye Powers inspire me with Madness, that I may answer him in
his own Language! [_Aside._] If you please to let us go, my Lord, we’ll
this Moment mount her upon the Back of the Sun; in the mean while, you
get a stradling upon the Moon, there you’ll be mounted aloft, and ride
after her, spur and whip, whip and spur, and you’ll be sure to overtake
her in the Eclipses; there you’ll be clapp’d together, Face to Face, one
upon another; and all the World will shout and say, he has her, he has
her, he has her! huzza!

                [Darony, Hurlothrumbo, _and the_ Parson, _shout and Ex._

_Fla._ Ride on, Lightning, to perform, or I’ll drive you on with
Thunder.

_Serin._ Dear Lady keep him in Discourse, for your own Security.

_Cad._ My Lord, you seem to be in Distress, is it in my Power to assist
you?

_Fla._ No; my Soul, like a Jocky, is mounted and riding his eternal
Race; I have slackned the Reins of Nature, and the Beast pulls, is
pampered with too many Beans and Oats, and is running away with me to
the Devil.

                                            [_Exit_ Flame _and_ Seringo.

_Cad._ Pity! I have heard of Pity, surely Pity now is banish’d from the
Earth, and all the Spirits of Love are lock’d up fast in Heaven. Was I
once free from this miserable Cave of Nature, I think I could deny
myself even of Paradise, to fly about within this lower World, to cure
all the Sick, and heal the Broken-hearted: If there be a Maid on Earth
whose Grief is like to mine, O ye sublimer Genius of the Air! in tender
Pity direct her here to me, that I may lay my Face down to her Feet, and
wash them clean with Tears; then will I rise, and gaze, and give her all
that’s mine, that Generosity may please my Soul, and Love will rise up
in my Heart, and conquer all my Grief.

                    _Enter_ Seringo _and_ Sementory.

_Sem._ I am full of sympathetick Confusion; there is nothing to be seen
upon the Terrass, but Flashes of Lightning, flying through Clouds of
Gun-powder Smoak.

_Cad._ Oh I tremble!

                            _Enter_ Servant.

_Serv._ _Hurlothrumbo_ is taken Prisoner, and the _Dutch_ Horse begin to
fly.

                                                        [_Exit_ Servant.

                             _Enter_ Flame.

_Flame._ The King has gain’d the Victory; I’ll fly to the _Elysian_
Fields, and provoke them all to dance.

_Serin._ Shall I go with you, my Lord?

_Flame._ Oh! no, _Seringo_, Coquets can never alarm me.

                                                              [_A Song._

      _I’ll to the simple Fair incline,
      Constant Love, full of_ Jove, _all divine,
      All, all, all divine, she’s rais’d, touch’d, rap’d, and only mine:
      O lead me, lead me to one like thee!
      Yet mighty Fate from happy State,
      Leads us all from Ruin,
      Through jealous Discords oh,
      And parting worse than Death, Death, oh._

                                                              [_Exeunt._


_The End of the Fourth Act._




------------------------------------------------------------------------




[Illustration]

                                 ACT V.


               _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo, _in Prison guarded_.

_Hurlo._ Leave me alone, let me vent, let me pour out the inveterate
Anguish of my Soul; I see there is nothing impossible; no, does not this
World turn round without Spit or Jack, and roast before the Fire in the
Elements ’till all her Fruits are ripe to eat? If this be so, all things
are rul’d by the same Power, and there is nothing impossible. Stand
still ye Globe, let there be but one Season, scorch or starve the
Universe: Come a little nearer, oh ye Sun, and burn all mortal Race, or
keep thee farther off, and starve them soon to Death; oh that all
Mankind might perish with myself!

                    _Enter_ Lomporhomock, _guarded_.

_Hurlo._ My Lord _Lomporhomock_, you’re welcome to your new Habitation.

_Lom._ ’Tis a cold Place.

_Hurlo._ Yes; you had us’d to stew your Lungs up in Claret all Night,
and the next Morning skim the Pot with a Pipe of Tobacco; but a little
cold Water must now suffice: I wish I had the scourging of thy _Dutch_
Buttocks.

_Lom._ Is there any Hopes of Liberty?

_Hurlo._ Nothing more sure than that; they’ll first make thee dance the
stripping Dance.

_Lom._ How is that?

_Hurlo._ They’ll first take this Stone Cloak off thy Shoulders; thy
Clothes off thy Back; then strip thy Body of thy Soul, and send it into
its own Country stark naked, and a good Journey to you.

_Lom._ Rather a good Dream.

_Hurlo._ This World is all a Dream, an Outside, a Dunghill pav’d with
Diamonds; but to you and your cursed Army nothing can compare,

      Except I hunt the Woods, to find a Savage Boar:
      No sooner he his Adversary sees,
      But rouses up from Luxury and Ease;
      His Heart and Eyes, was in Surprize, and both at Civil War,
      And all his Passion backward flies, and flames into the Air,
      Then from his Jaws did Foam descend, as tho’ he fear’d no Evil;
      The Tail, the Tusks, the Bristles stood an end, as if he’d fight
         the Devil;
      But when with Spear, the Foe drew near, to shout for happy Day,
      His Ears let fall, and drooping all, cry’d _Boh!_ and run away.

                                                           [_Exit_ Lomp.

                             _Enter_ Primo.

_Hurlo._ Honourable Sir, and greatest Comfort in Adversity, ’tis my
fervent Desire to know what Pleasure we shall enjoy in the _Elysian_;
for now all my Hopes are there.

_Primo._ Has your Pleasure been intellectual, in which the Body has no
share?

_Hurlo._ I have had very delightful Dreams, all Spirit and Love; but I
must needs say, the Body did share in the Pleasure, and Woman has been
all the Delight of my Life.

_Primo._ Look up, my Lord; you see yon Marble Sky, thro’ that is the Way
you are to pass; then you come to a Scarlet Flame, that Flame compounds
the Nature of Woman, and if that Part of Woman has dissolved thee here,
how shalt thou be able to march thro’ the fiery Element, on which a
Woman is made; no, it cannot be, you will descend, you’ll yearn to your
old Delights, and visit the Virgins in the Night.

_Hurlo._ That’s good.

_Primo._ Then will you haunt melancholy Tombs, and visit _Hurlothrumbo_
in his Solitude; invite him to a Banquet of Raptures: but alas, he’ll be
indispos’d, and so desire to be excus’d.

_Hurlo._ That’s blank; may I not fly amongst my old Friends, and noble
Officers? will they not honour me as a Person of Quality?

_Primo._ Every Man is honour’d according to his Colour and Brightness;
your common Souls are like dissolved Allum, pour’d in clear Water; these
are not able to converse with the Sublimes, nor Gloworm shine before the
Sun.

_Hurlo._ I hope they’ll not rob me of my Honour, that his Majesty has
bestow’d upon me: they’ll call me Lord, will they not?

_Primo._ Words are not the Language of the Place, ’tis Musick, Motion,
Hieroglyphick, Dress.

_Hurlo._ Tell me how shall I converse with _Brutus_, I long to see him:
By what shall I know him?

_Primo._ _Brutus_ is in Scarlet; his Heart shines like a Star, and his
Right hand is black.

_Hurlo._ What, for Murder! then I shall be black all over; now be
sincere, and let me know your Opinion of my Case.

_Primo._ Then answer me, can you love a Friend more than a Mistress?

_Hurlo._ No.

_Primo._ Are you mov’d with Sounds? do they drive Venom from your Soul,
and make your Blood run cold?

_Hurlo._ No.

_Primo._ Are you affected with sublime Prose; do your Nerves creep, and
your Veins shiver?

_Hurlo._ No.

_Primo._ Then you’ll enter into the Shades like a Cow in an Opera,
terrify’d with Delights; she lows and interrupts; she gallops to those
Climes, where is most Grass, and a Bull.

                                                           [_Ex._ Primo.

_Hurlo._ May be live in my Dream, upon the Desarts of _Arabia_, hurl’d
about with stormy Tempest, in Thunder, Lightning and Hail; be pursued by
Dragons, Wolves and Tygers; then fly to my Body for shelter, and find
the Door shut. Oh most horrid! oh, what has brought me to this unhappy
Place of Misery? it was in pursuit of Honour.

      Honour, like the lighted Meteor in the Air,
      She leads the midnight Traveller astray,
      Forsaken by the Light, the Sun and Day;
      Thro’ Brambles, Briers, Hedges, Ditches,
      The _Ignis fatuus_ the Fool bewitches.
      Thus stimulated, the glimmering Light deceives him,
      Leads him to a miry Bog, then vanishes and leaves him:
      Thus I do roul and wallow in the Mire of the Mind,
      Not one Moment’s Ease to my Soul can find;
      Shine oh Sun, my Life to me restore,
      And thee for _Fatuus_ I’ll forsake no more.

                                                           [_Ex._ Hurlo.

                      _Enter_ King, _and Officer_.

_King._ Here I parted with _Theorbeo_; ah he is gone, he is banish’d
from the Earth; oh now my Body hungers for the Ground, as my Soul is
a-thirst for Heaven; I will go visit him in the Dust, whilst Sorrow is
desirous to vent, lest I rejoice at the Sight of _Cademore_, and forget
my Grief for my Friend. The Fatigue of this Day has been very great;
what can strengthen these trembling Nerves; quench and compose these
flaming Spirits?

_Offic._ Sleep.

_King._ Oh, what can make an afflicted Mind to sleep?

_Offic._ Harmony.

_King._ ’Tis true; whilst I visit _Theorbeo_, get the Performers in
readiness; let the Musick be _Astartus_, ’tis the Language of Angels,
the Eccho of Heaven; and who shall declare the Sense to Mortals? Those
Sounds inspire the Intellect, and strengthen the Soul; they animate and
arm the Mind; raise to the highest Œconomy of the Universe, and lure me
quite from Care; then finely turning the Keys of Paradise, they waft me
from Orb to Orb, and make me, thro’ divine Opticks, see, the radiant
Splendors of bright shining Worlds.

                                                [_Ex. King and Officer._

                 [_Musick plays solemn. The Scene discovers_ Theorbeo_’s
                     Statue in a Grove_.

                             _Enter_ King.

_King._ I could lay me down, and dissolve my Body by thee, and make my
Soul to swim away to thine in Floods of Tears: Oh _Theorbeo_, thy Body
was inhabited once by all things fine, Faculties that rous’d aloft
within, ready to heave up the Sky, and force themselves to Heaven; full
of an humble Grandeur, Resolution, Ambition divine, that mighty he, that
wings the Soul: ’tis impossible that so much Greatness should ever cease
to live; oh here let me stay, till thy Breath of eternal Raptures, shall
descend from Heaven in Harmony; when thy bright Spirit, like the Sun,
shall glance from the Sphere, I’ll leap up in Extasy, and meet thee in
the Air; when we descend, I’ll stand to pause, to gaze, admire, rejoice
and weep; I’ll parry thy Beams, run into thy Rays, and clasp thee in my
Arms; if I become blind; but now sleepy Nature calls to rest, and as our
Bodies slumbering sympathize, may our Souls in extatick Visions meet.

                                 [_Enter_ Seringo _and sings, and Exit_.

                  _Enter_ Theorbeo _and_ Dologodelmo.

_Theor._ She resembles the Guardian Angel of a Man, when his Pupil to
_Pluto_ and to Vice is given; then just like her, he sings, he mourns,
and sends the Muse to Heaven.

_King._ Now have I pass’d my _Cademore_’s World, and enter _Theorbeo_’s
Kingdom; is it thus we pass from lasting Sleep, and wak’d to Life by a
Choir of Angels? This inimitable Sound makes all my Nerves to creep; the
chanting Harmony thrills my Veins; the superlative Sweetness of the
Musick raises me from the Dust of Death.

                                          [_He rises and sees_ Theorbeo.

Oh _Theorbeo_, I am like a Cœlestial inspired Man, my Heart is full of
Love, and overflows with Joy; is it lasting, or will it vanish? To-day
or ever? Momentary or eternal? declare those blooming Thoughts; a Pearl
and Heavenly Mystery lodge within thy Eyes, ripe with Anity, appris’d
with Tidings from on high; oh tell to me the Case of separate Souls; or
in the Rapidity of thy Career, catch me away in a divine Transport, I
long to touch thee; may I touch thee?

_Theor._ Yes, you may.

_Dolo._ Will your Majesty give me leave to explain the Mystery?

_King._ Speak _Godelmo_, for I long to hear.

_Dolo._ The King was no sooner enter’d the Room of Burning-Glass; but it
scorch’d his very Soul; crying out aloud to Heaven, with fervent
Oraison, the Sun seem’d to start, and vail’d his Face with Clouds; for
when he reflected on what was done, he mourn’d and wept, he wetted all
the World with Tears: when we were both releas’d from our Chains, he
drew the Vesture from his Eyes, and smil’d on all the Earth.

_King._ Oh _Theorbeo_, methinks I see the Angel, that pitches his
Pavilion round thee, leave thee and march to the higher Regions of the
Air, then rise up with his glittering Glory, and eclipse the Sun; O
_Theorbeo_, I celebrate a Dunelmo in my Heart, and all the Faculties of
my Soul are banqueting on high Delight.

                             _Enter_ Flame.

_Fla._ The Centry of my Actions is just reliev’d; my new Companion, and
a good Conscience, revive my Vitals, chuck my Heart under the Chin; and
all the Strings strike up a Rit-a-te; every Faculty is trickling down
with Transports.

_Sings._ I gaze in Transport charm’d,
         My Soul’s with Love alarm’d.

                                                                  [_Ex._

                               _A SONG._

                     _Scene changes to the Court._

                    _Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

_Sem._ See here comes the King; Calamity prepares a Man to receive a
Petition; _Dolo_ will tell him the Cause of our coming.

                          _Enter_ Dologodelmo.

_Dolo._ I have inform’d the King that you have a Petition to his
Majesty; he’ll instantly pass by, and speak to you; see where he comes!

                                                            [_Ex._ Dolo.

                             _Enter_ King.

_Sem._ Pray my Sovereign Lord hear us, let Pity move; the meanest of
Kings pardon small Offences, and the mightiest of Kings may stand in
need of Mercy; your Majesty knows that Greatness is seen more in a Man,
when Mercy exerts in Lowliness, than when he rides in Fury, upon
red-wing’d Thunder to revenge.

_King._ Rise up, I’ll hear no more, I can guess at what you’ll say.
(_Ex._ Sem. _and_ Ser.) My Enemies are the Rod of Heaven, that seldom
ceases to torment: How mean a thing it is for Men to beg that Life, that
is in the Hands of the greatest Adversary? No, they cannot live, their
Breath would infect the Air, who would turn loose Dragons, Wolves and
Tygers, I am not safe upon my Throne; yet Wisdom, in the highest
Philosophy, tells me I am fate? for if there be a Power above, I am the
Shadow of that Power below; and if so, not all the Power of my
Adversaries, and all the furious Infernals, can stir a Shadow the
Breadth of a Hair, except they have power to move the Substance. I
cannot bear to have an Enemy; if I destroy these Men, they go down to
the Dust unconquered: I never knew a Temper, not of the most inveterate
kind, but I could conquer it, and force the Man to love me. When
Ambition, Revenge and Passions rise, then Reason strengthens, and Love
stands up and demands a Parly; and when my vanquish’d Adversary stands
before me, it is equal to me whether I strike or kiss.

                                                                [_Exit._

                    _Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

_Sem._ _Darony_ is very desirous to live, he’s much in love with Life;
the King is now in _Cademore_’s Apartment; she may soften his Mind, and
make him full of Compassion: _Darony_ deserves no Pity. Oh _Seringo_,
what was you in love with, when you admir’d that Mortal?

_Ser._ Not with the Man, but his Title.

_Sem._ Well, we Women are not worth a wise Man’s Observation; our
graceless Pride, and covetous Ambition, makes us always poor, and
tasteless; were we humble as the purest Spirits, discerning as the
Watchers above; we should admire Merit, then find Happiness, and be as
rich as Hermits: you’ll never prosper for your Cruelty to the Lord
_Flame_.

_Ser._ That’s my fear.

_Sem._ See, here he comes; ’tis Vertue creates Love, Love Fire, and Fire
confin’d creates Madness; but give vent, and all shall be well.

_Ser._ I will, _Sementory_.

                             _Enter_ Flame.

_Fla._ What! not marry’d yet?

_Sem._ No; Angels are jealous of the Sublime in Ladies, prevent and
preserve us from rude Men; for they destroy the Beauty of the Mind, as
Time and Thought do the Body.

_Fla._ O _Seringo_! that thy Heart was Steel; ’tis Sand upon which I
wrote all my Perfections, but every little Wind makes an Alteration, and
blows the Impression quite away.

_Sem._ Make way; see here the King comes!

                                 [_Ex._ Flame, Sementory, _and_ Seringo.

                      _Enter_ King _and_ Cademore.

_Cad._ Oh! tell me, how did you bear the Pangs of Parting?

_King._ When I heard that you was married to another my Soul sigh’d
within me; it mourn’d, it griev’d, I perceiv’d a Tear of Blood to
trickle down, and drop from the Bottom of my Heart; then Reason rouz’d
within me, with celestial Wings I soar’d, I flew to my Aid aloft, I
sigh’d, I bow’d sublime, and wept.

                  _Enter_ Theorbeo _and_ Dologodelmo.

_Dolo._ The vanquish’d Traitors are come to appear before your Majesty.

_King._ Can you bear to see any thing in distress?

_Theo._ I must own my Soul is apt to sympathize.

_King._ ’Tis so with me; when I see the Wound of a Man, that Part of me
trembles; and thro’ viewing a Cripple, have been seiz’d with Lameness.
How Thoughts rise up and plead to strengthen Mercy! telling me I am a
Judge, my own Eternal highly honour’d, myself appears before myself, to
receive from myself my irrevocable Sentence.

      _A Shout behind the Scenes. Enter_ Hurlothrumbo, Urlandenny,
                             _and_ Darony.

_King._ Here comes _Hurlothrumbo_ in Hieroglyphicks; pray the meaning of
this comical Dress?

_Hurlo._ ’Tis a dumb Confession of my Guilt, ’tis an Index to my Heart;
black and yellow without, wild and foolish within.

_King._ ’Tis true; though I have never known a Coward honourable, I have
seen a stout Man a Villain; the Love of Gold will overthrow the greatest
Heart: thou hast conquer’d a Lion, deceiv’d a Madman, and cunningly
escaped from Death, but now——

_Hurlo._ Oh now let me live that I may be all divine, and so out-wit the
Devil!

_King._ _Darony_, what have you to ask?

_Dar._ Life, and Pardon for my Offences.

_King._ As the Optick through the Lid discerns the Light; so through the
Eye of the Intellect, methinks I see your separate Souls strolling sad
through the intricate Windings of _Elysium_: I pity you all as poor
unfortunate Men; _Darony_, I will not take from you that Life which
Heaven has given, but will give thee Riches to satisfy the Thirst of thy
Ambition. Why do you pause?

_Dar._ Oh what an Alteration in the Mind! your Generosity is at Wars
within, and knocks down Avarice, Cruelty and Pride in me, I am in love
with your Greatness, and hate myself; I myself will punish your
Offender, [_stabs himself_] Oh! loose me, ’tis not finished.

                                                      [Dol. _holds him_.

_King._ See, is the Wound mortal?

_Dol._ ’Tis not, my Lord.

_King._ Unarm him, take him hence, he shall not die. _Hurlothrumbo_, so
long as thou art cloathed in that like Garment, thou shalt live, thou
shalt never appear in Scarlet any more, to deceive Mankind.
_Urlandenny_, I remember what good thy Father perform’d in our Family,
therefore I will not separate thy Soul from thy Body, but will give thee
Liberty.

_Urlan._ Oh how Heaven exerts in Nature! Great and noble Man, every
Tongue shall speak of thee, their Words shall mingle with the Winds, to
fly and sing through all and every part: those Sounds rebound from Sky
to Sky, and Eccho’s ring in every Heart; and when that Cloud thy Body
shall pass from the Sun, thy Soul, that Sun, shall shine throughout all
Worlds: the diminutive Spirits will in Amazement stand, for thy
exceeding Glory will eclipse their Sight: Fear and Trembling on their
vital Hearts will seize, they’ll drop to the Earth as Leaves in Autumn
fall; the mortal Stars will not presume to gaze, but in thy Presence
veil their Faces all.

                                                              [_Exeunt._


           --------------------------------------------------

                                _FINIS._

           --------------------------------------------------




------------------------------------------------------------------------




[Illustration]

                               EPILOGUE,

                                   BY

                              Mr. _BYROM_.


                         Enter _Hurlothrumbo_.

      _Ladies and Gentlemen, my Lord of_ Flame
      _Has sent me here to thank you in his Name;
      Proud of your Smiles, he’s mounted many a Story
      Above the tip-top Pinnacle of Glory:
      Thence he defies the Sons of Clay, the Criticks;
      Fellows, says he, that are meer Paralyticks,
      With Judgments lame, and Intellects that halt,
      Because a Man outruns them——they find fault.
      He is indeed, to speak my poor Opinion,
      Out of the reach of_ critical _Dominion._

                           [Enter _Critick_.]

_Adso! her’s one of ’em._——Cr. _A strange odd Play, Sir_;

                           [Enter _Author_, pushes _Hurlothrumbo_ aside.

Au. _Let me come to him——Pray, what’s that you say, Sir?_

Cr. _I say, Sir, Rules are not observ’d here._——Au. _Rules,
    Like Clocks and Watches, were all made for Fools.
    Rules make a Play? that is_——Cr. _What, Mr. Singer?_

Au. _As if a Knife and Fork should make a Finger._

Cr. _Pray Sir, which is the_ Hero _of your Play?_

Au. _Hero! why they’re all Heroes in their way._

Cr. _Why here’s no_ Plot! _or none that’s understood._

Au. _There’s a Rebellion tho’; and that’s as good._

Cr. _No Spirit nor Genius in’t._   Au. _Why didn’t here
A_ SPIRIT _and a_ GENIUS _both appear?_

Cr. _Poh, ’tis all Stuff and Nonsense_——Au. _Lack-a-day!
    Why that’s the very_ Essence _of a Play,
    Your Old-House, New-House, Opera and Ball;
    ’Tis_ NONSENSE, Critick, _that supports ’em all.
    As you yourselves ingeniously have shown,
    Whilst on their Nonsense you have built your own._

Cr. _Here wants——Wants what! Why now for all your canting,
    What one Ingredient of a Play is wanting?
    Musick, Love, War, Death, Madness without Sham,
    Done to the Life, by_ Persons _of the_ Dram:
    _Scenes and Machines, descending and arising;
    Thunder and Lightning; ev’ry thing surprizing!_

Cr. _Play, Farce, or Opera is’t?_ Au. _No matter whether,
    ’Tis a_ REHEARSAL _of ’em all together.
    But come Sir, come, troop off, old Blundermonger,
    And interrupt the_ Epilogue _no longer._

                           [_Author_ drives the _Critick_ off the Stage.

    Hurlo _proceed_——

                       Hurlo. _Troth! he says true enough,
    The Stage has given rise to wretched Stuff:
    Critick, or Player; a_ Dennis, _or a_ Cibber,
    _Vie only which shall make it go down glibber;
    A thousand murd’rous ways they cast about
    To stifle it——but Murder-like——’twill out.
    Our Author fairly, without so much Fuss
    Shews it—in_ puris Naturalibus;
    _Pursues the Point beyond its highest Height,             }
    Then bids his Men of Fire, and Ladies bright,             }
    Mark, how it looks!——When it is out of Sight.             }
    So true a_ Stage, _so fair a Play for Laughter,
    There never was before, nor ever will come after:
    Never, no never; not while vital Breath,
    Defends ye from that_ long-liv’d Mortal _Death.
    Death!——something hangs on my prophetick Tongue,
    I’ll give it utterance——be it right or wrong_:
    Handel _himself shall yield to_ Hurlothrumbo,
    _And_ Bononcini _too shall cry_——Succumbo.
    _That’s if the Ladies condescend to smile:
    Their Looks make Sense, or Nonsense, in our Isle._

[Illustration]



*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76792 ***