LINGUA.
ACTUS PRIMUS, SCAENA PRIMA.
LINGUA apparelled in a crimson satin gown, a dressing of white roses, a little skene[168] tied in a purple scarf, a pair of white buskins[169] drawn with white ribbon, silk garters, gloves, &c. AUDITUS in a garland of bays intermingled with red and white roses upon a false hair, a cloth of silver mantle upon a pair of satin bases, wrought sleeves, buskins, gloves, &c.
LINGUA, AUDITUS.
LIN. Nay, good Auditus, do but hear me speak.
AUD. Lingua, thou strik'st too much upon one string,
Thy tedious plain-song[170] grates my tender ears.
LIN. 'Tis plain indeed, for truth no descant needs;
Una's her name, she cannot be divided.
AUD. O, but the ground[171] itself is naught, from whence
Thou canst not relish out a good division:
Therefore at length surcease, prove not stark-mad,
Hopeless to prosecute a hapless suit:
For though (perchance) thy first strains pleasing are,
I dare engage mine ear the close[172] will jar.
LIN. If then your confidence esteem my cause
To be so frivolous and weakly wrought,
Why do you daily subtle plots devise,
To stop me from the ears of common sense?
Whom since our great queen Psyche hath ordain'd,
For his sound wisdom, our vice-governor,
To him and to his two so wise assistants,
Nimble Phantastes and firm Memory,
Myself and cause I humbly do commit.
Let them but hear and judge; I wish no more.
AUD. Should they but know thy rash presumption,
They would correct it in the sharpest sort:
Good Jove! what sense hast thou to be a sense!
Since from the first foundation of the world,
We never were accounted more than five.
Yet you, forsooth, an idle prating dame,
Would fain increase the number, and upstart
To our high seats, decking your babbling self
With usurp'd titles of our dignity.
LIN. An idle prating dame! know, fond Auditus,
Records affirm my title full as good,
As his amongst the five is counted best.
AUD. Lingua, confess the truth: thou'rt wont to lie.
LIN. I say so too, therefore I do not lie.
But now, spite of you all, I speak the truth.
You five among us subjects tyrannise;
Making the sacred name of Common Sense
A cloak to cover your enormities:
He bears the rule; he's judge, but judgeth still,
As he's inform'd by your false evidence:
So that a plaintiff cannot have access,
But through your gates. He hears, but what? nought else,
But what thy crafty ears to him conveys:
And all he sees is by proud Visus show'd him:
And what he touches is by Tactus' hand;
And smells, I know, but through Olfactus' nose;
Gustus begins to him whate'er he tastes:
By these quaint tricks free passage hath been barr'd,
That I could never equally be heard.
But well, 'tis well.
AUD. Lingua, thy feeble sex
Hath hitherto withheld my ready hands,
That long'd to pluck that nimble instrument.
LIN. O horrible ingratitude! that thou—
That thou of all the rest should'st threaten me:
Who by my means conceiv'st as many tongues,
As Neptune closeth lands betwixt his arms:
The ancient Hebrew clad with mysteries:
The learned Greek rich in fit epithets,
Bless'd in the lovely marriage of pure words:
The Chaldee wise, th'Arabian physical,
The Roman eloquent and Tuscan grave,
The braving Spanish and the smooth-tongu'd French:
These precious jewels that adorn thine ears,
All from my mouth's rich cabinet are stolen.
How oft hast thou been chain'd unto my tongue,
Hang'd at my lips, and ravish'd with my words;
So that a speech fair-feather'd could not fly,
But thy ear's pitfall caught it instantly?
But now, O heavens!
AUD. O heavens! thou wrong'st me much,
Thou wrong'st me much thus falsely to upbraid me:
Had not I granted thee the use of hearing,
That sharp-edged tongue whetted against her master,
Those puffing lungs, those teeth, those drowsy lips,
That scalding throat, those nostrils full of ire,
Thy palate, proper instrument of speech,
Like to the winged chanters of the wood,
Uttering nought else but idle sifflements,[173]
Tunes without sense, words inarticulate,
Had ne'er been able t' have abus'd me thus.
Words are thy children, but of my begetting.
LIN. Perfidious liar, how can I endure thee!
Call'st my unspotted chastity in question?
O, could I use the breath mine anger spends,
I'd make thee know—
AUD. Heav'ns look on my distress,
Defend me from this railing viperess!
For if I stay, her words' sharp vinegar
Will fret me through. Lingua, I must be gone:
I hear one call me more than earnestly.
[Exit AUDITUS.
LIN. May the loud cannoning of thunderbolts,
Screeking of wolves, howling of tortur'd ghosts,
Pursue thee still, and fill thy amaz'd ears
With cold astonishment and horrid fears!
O, how these senses muffle Common Sense!
And more and more with pleasing objects strive
To dull his judgment and pervert his will
To their behests: who, were he not so wrapp'd
I'the dusky clouds of their dark policies,
Would never suffer right to suffer wrong.
Fie, Lingua, wilt thou now degenerate?
Art not a woman? dost not love revenge?
Delightful speeches, sweet persuasions,
I have this long time us'd to get my right.
My right—that is, to make the senses six;
And have both name and power with the rest.
Oft have I season'd savoury periods
With sugar'd words, to delude Gustus' taste,
And oft embellish'd my entreative phrase
With smelling flow'rs of vernant rhetoric,
Limning and flashing it with various dyes,
To draw proud Visus to me by the eyes;
And oft perfum'd my petitory[174] style
With civet-speech, t'entrap Olfactus' nose;
And clad myself in silken eloquence,
To allure the nicer touch of Tactus' hand.
But all's become lost labour, and my cause
Is still procrastinated: therefore now,
Hence, ye base offspring of a broken mind,
Supple entreaties and smooth flatteries:
Go kiss the love-sick lips of puling gulls,[175]
That 'still their brain to quench their love's disdain:
Go gild the tongues of bawds and parasites;
Come not within my thoughts. But thou, deceit,
Break up the pleasure of my brimful breast,
Enrich my mind with subtle policies.
Well then, I'll go; whither? nay, what know I?
And do, in faith I will, the devil knows what.
What, if I set them all at variance,
And so obtain to speak? it must be so.
It must be so, but how? there lies the point:
How? thus: tut, this device will never prove,
Augment it so: 'twill be too soon descried;
Or so, nor so; 'tis too-too dangerous.
Pish, none of these! what, if I take this course? ha!
Why, there it goes; good, good; most excellent!
He that will catch eels must disturb the flood;
The chicken's hatch'd, i' faith; for they are proud,
And soon will take a cause of disagreement.
SCAENA SECUNDA.
MENDACIO, attired in a taffeta suit of a light colour changeable, like an ordinary page.[176]
LINGUA, MENDACIO.
LIN. I see the heavens nurse my new-born device;
For lo, my page Mendacio comes already,
To file and burnish that I hammer'd out.
Never in better time, Mendacio,
What! hast thou done?
MEN. Done? yes, long ago.
LIN. Is't possible thou shouldst despatch so soon?
MEN. Madam, I had no sooner told
Tactus that Gustus would fain speak with him,
But I spied Visus, Gustus, and the rest,
And serv'd them all with sauce of several lies.
Now the last sense I spake with was Olfactus
Who, having smelt the meaning of my message,
Straight blew his nose, and quickly puff'd me hither;
But in the whirlwind of his furious blast,
Had not by chance a cobweb held me fast,
Mendacio had been with you long ere this.
LIN. Witness this lie, Mendacio's with me now;
But, sirrah, out of jesting will they come?
MEN. Yes, and it like your ladyship, presently;
Here may you have me prest[177] to flatter them.
LIN. I'll flatter no such proud companions,
'Twill do no good, therefore I am determin'd
To leave such baseness.
MEN. Then shall I turn and bid them stay at home?
LIN. No; for their coming hither to this grove
Shall be a means to further my device.
Therefore I pray thee, Mendacio, go presently;
Run, you vile ape.
MEN. Whither?
LIN. What, dost thou stand?
MEN. Till I know what to do.
LIN. 'Sprecious, 'tis true,
So might'st thou finely overrun thine errand.
Haste to my chest.
MEN. Ay, ay.
LIN. There shalt thou find
A gorgeous robe and golden coronet;
Convey them hither nimbly, let none see them.
MEN. Madam, I fly, I fly. [Exit MENDACIO.
LIN. But hear you, sirrah?
Lock up your fellow-servant Veritas.
MEN. I warrant you,
You need not fear so long as I am with you.
[He goes out, and comes in presently.
What colour is the robe?
LIN. There is but one.
[MENDACIO, going, turns in haste.
MEN. The key, madam, the key.
LIN. By Juno, how forgetful
Is sudden speed! Here, take it, run.
MEN. I'll be here instantly.
[Exit MENDACIO.
SCAENA TERTIA.
LINGUA sola.
LIN. Whilome this crown and gorgeous ornament
Were the great prize for which five orators
With the sharp weapons of their tongues contended:
But all their speeches were so equal wrought
And alike gracious,[178] that, if his were witty,
His was as wise; the third's fair eloquence
Did parallel the fourth's firm gravity;
The last's good gesture kept the balance even
With all the rest; so that the sharpest eye
And most judicious censor could not judge,
To whom the hanging victory should fall.
Therefore with one consent they all agreed
To offer up both crown and robe to me,
As the chief patroness of their profession,
Which heretofore I holily have kept,
Like to a miser's gold, to look on only.
But now I'll put them to a better use,
And venture both, in hope to—