ACT. V.—Scene I.
Bayes, and the two Gentlemen.
Bayes. Now, gentlemen, I will be bold to say, I'll show you the greatest scene that ever England saw: I mean not for words, for those I don't value; but for state, show and magnificence. In fine, I'll justify it to be as grand to the eye every whit, egad, as that great scene in "Harry the Eighth," and grander too, egad; for instead of two bishops, I bring in here four cardinals.
[The curtain is drawn up, the two usurping Kings appear in state with the four Cardinals, Prince Prettyman, Prince Volscius, Amaryllis, Cloris, Parthenope. &c., before them, Heralds and Sergeants-at-arms, with maces.
Smith. Mr. Bayes, pray what is the reason that two of the cardinals are in hats, and the other in caps?
Bayes. Why, sir, because—— By gad I won't tell you. Your country friend, sir, grows so troublesome—
K. Ush. Now, sir, to the business of the day.
K. Phys. Speak, Volscius.
Vols. Dread sovereign lords, my zeal to you must not invade my duty to your son; let me entreat that great Prince Prettyman first to speak; whose high pre-eminence in all things, that do bear the name of good, may justly claim that privilege.
Bayes. Here it begins to unfold; you may perceive, now, that he is his son.
Johns. Yes, sir, and we are very much beholden to you for that discovery.
Pret. Royal father, upon my knees I beg,
That the illustrious Volscius first be heard.
Vols. That preference is only due to Amaryllis, sir.
Bayes. I'll make her speak very well, by-and-by, you shall see.
Ama. Invincible sovereigns—— [Soft music.
K. Ush. But stay, what sound is this invades our ears?[49]
K. Phys. Sure 'tis the music of the moving spheres.
Pret. Behold, with wonder, yonder comes from far
A god-like cloud, and a triumphant car;
In which our two right kings sit one by one,
With virgins' vests, and laurel garlands on.
K. Ush. Then, brother Phys., 'tis time we should be gone.
[The two Usurpers steal out of the throne, and go away.
Bayes. Look you now, did not I tell you, that this would be as easy a change as the other?
Smith. Yes, faith, you did so; tho' I confess I could not believe you: but you have brought it about, I see.
[The two right kings of Brentford descend in the clouds, singing, in white garments; and three fiddlers sitting before them, in green.
Bayes. Now, because the two right kings descend from above,
I make 'em sing to the tune and style of our modern spirits.
1st King. Haste, brother king, we are sent from above.
2nd King. Let us move, let us move;
Move to remove the fate
Of Brentford's long united state.[50]
1st King. Tarra, ran, tarra, full east and by south.
2nd King. We sail with thunder in our mouth,
In scorching noon-day, whilst the traveller stays;
Busy, busy, busy, busy, we bustle along,
Mounted upon warm Phœbus's rays,
Through the heavenly throng,
Hasting to those
Who will feast us at night with a pig's petty-toes.
1st King. And we'll fall with our plate
In an ollio of hate.
2nd King. But now supper's done, the servitors try,
Like soldiers, to storm a whole half-moon pie.
1st King. They gather, they gather hot custards in spoons:
But alas, I must leave these half-moons,
And repair to my trusty dragoons.
2nd King. Oh, stay, for you need not as yet go astray:
The tide, like a friend, has brought ships in our way,
And on their high ropes we will play
Like maggots in filberts we'll snug in our shell,
We'll frisk in our shell,
We'll frisk in our shell,
And farewell.
1st King. But the ladies have all inclination to dance,
And the green frogs croak out a coranto of France.
Bayes. Is not that pretty, now? The fiddlers are all in green.
Smith. Ay, but they play no coranto.
Johns. No, but they play a tune that's a great deal better.
Bayes. No coranto, quoth-a! that's a good one, with all my heart. Come, sing on.
2nd King. Now mortals that hear
How we tilt and career,
With wonder will fear
The event of such things as shall never appear.
1st King. Stay you to fulfil what the gods have decreed.
2nd King. Then call me to help you, if there shall be need.
1st King. So firmly resolv'd is a true Brentford king,
To save the distress'd, and help to 'em to bring,
That ere a full pot of good ale you can swallow,
He's here with a whoop, and gone with a holla.
[Bayes fillips his finger, and sings after them.
Bayes. "He's here with a whoop, and gone with a holla." This, sir, you must know, I thought once to have brought in with a conjuror.[51]
Johns. Ay, that would have been better.
Bayes. No, faith, not when you consider it; for thus it is more compendious, and does the thing every whit as well.
Smith. Thing! what thing?
Bayes. Why, bring 'em down again into the throne, sir. What thing would you have?
Smith. Well, but methinks the sense of this song is not very plain!
Bayes. Plain! why, did you ever hear any people in clouds speak plain? They must be all for flight of fancy at its full range, without the least check or control upon it. When once you tie up spirits and people in clouds, to speak plain, you spoil all.
Smith. Bless me, what a monster's this!
[The two Kings light out of the clouds, and step into the throne.
1st King. Come, now to serious counsel we'll advance.
2nd King. I do agree; but first, let's have a dance.
Bayes. Right. You did that very well, Mr. Cartwright. But first, let's have a dance. Pray remember that; be sure you do it always just so: for it must be done as if it were the effect of thought and premeditation. But first, let's have a dance; pray remember that.
Smith. Well, I can hold no longer, I must gag this rogue, there's no enduring of him.
Johns. No, prithee make use of thy patience a little longer, let's see the end of him now. [Dance a grand dance.
Bayes. This, now, is an ancient dance, of right belonging to the Kings of Brentford; but since derived, with a little alteration, to the Inns of Court.
An Alarm. Enter two Heralds.
1st King. What saucy groom molests our privacies?
1st Her. The army's at the door, and in disguise,
Desires a word with both your majesties.
2nd Her. Having from Knightsbridge hither marched by stealth.
2nd King. Bid 'em attend awhile, and drink our health.
Smith. How, Mr. Bayes, the army in disguise!
Bayes. Ay, sir, for fear the usurpers might discover them, that went out but just now.
Smith. Why, what if they had discover'd them?
Bayes. Why, then they had broke the design.
1st King. Here take five guineas for those warlike men.
2nd King. And here's five more, that makes the sum just ten.
1st Her. We have not seen so much, the Lord knows when. [Exeunt Heralds.
1st King. Speak on, brave Amaryllis.
Ama. Invincible sovereigns, blame not my modesty, if at this
grand conjuncture—— [Drum beats behind the stage.
1st King. What dreadful noise is this that comes and goes?
Enter a Soldier with his sword drawn.
Sold. Haste hence, great sirs, your royal persons save,
For the event of war no mortal knows:[52]
The army, wrangling for the gold you gave,
First fell to words, and then to handy-blows. [Exit.
Bayes. Is not that now a pretty kind of a stanza, and a handsome come-off?
2nd King. O dangerous estate of sovereign power!
Obnoxious to the change of every hour.
1st King. Let us for shelter in our cabinet stay;
Perhaps these threatning storms may pass away. [Exeunt.
Johns. But, Mr. Bayes, did not you promise us just now, to make Amaryllis speak very well?
Bayes. Ay, and so she would have done, but that they hinder'd her.
Smith. How, sir, whether you would or no?
Bayes. Ay, sir, the plot lay so, that I vow to gad, it was not to be avoided.
Smith. Marry, that was hard.
Johns. But, pray, who hinder'd her?
Bayes. Why, the battle, sir, that's just coming in at the door: and I'll tell you now a strange thing; tho' I don't pretend to do more than other men, egad, I'll give you both a whole week to guess how I'll represent this battle.
Smith. I had rather be bound to fight your battle, I assure you, sir.
Bayes. Whoo! there's it now: fight a battle! there's the common error. I knew presently where I should have you. Why, pray, sir, do but tell me this one thing: can you think it a decent thing, in a battle before ladies, to have men run their swords thro' one another, and all that?
Johns. No, faith, 'tis not civil.
Bayes. Right; on the other side, to have a long relation of squadrons here, and squadrons there: what is it, but dull prolixity?
Johns. Excellently reason'd, by my troth!
Bayes. Wherefore, sir, to avoid both those indecorums, I sum up the whole battle in the representation of two persons only, no more: and yet so lively, that, I vow to gad, you would swear ten thousand men were at it really engag'd. Do you mark me?
Smith. Yes, sir: but I think I should hardly swear tho', for all that.
Bayes. By my troth, sir, but you would tho', when you see it: for I make 'em both come out in armour cap-a-pie, with their swords drawn, and hung with a scarlet ribbon at their wrist; which, you know, represents fighting enough.
Johns. Ay, ay; so much, that if I were in your place, I would make 'em go out again, without ever speaking one word.
Bayes. No, there you are out; for I make each of 'em hold a lute in his hand.
Smith. How, sir, instead of a buckler?
Bayes. O Lord, O Lord! instead of a buckler? pray, sir, do you ask no more questions. I make 'em, sirs, play the battle in recitativo. And here's the conceit just at the very same instant that one sings, the other, sir, recovers you his sword, and puts himself into a warlike posture: so that you have at once your ear entertain'd with music and good language, and your eye satisfied with the garb and accoutrements of war.
Smith. I confess, sir, you stupefy me.
Bayes. You shall see.
Johns. But, Mr. Bayes, might not we have a little fighting? for I love those plays where they cut and slash one another upon the stage for a whole hour together.
Bayes. Why, then, to tell you true, I have contriv'd it both ways: but you shall have my recitativo first.
Johns. Ay, now you are right: there is nothing that can be objected against it.
Bayes. True: and so, egad, I'll make it too a tragedy in a trice.[53]
Enter at several doors the General and Lieutenant-General, arm'd cap-a-pie, with each of them a lute in his hand, and a sword drawn, and hung with a scarlet ribbon at his wrist.[54]
Lieut.-Gen. Villain, thou liest!
Gen. Arm, arm, Gonsalvo,[55] arm, what, ho!
The lie no flesh can brook, I trow.
Lieut.-Gen. Advance from Acton with the musqueteers.
Gen. Draw down the Chelsea cuirassiers.[56]
Lieut.-Gen. The band you boast of Chelsea cuirassiers,
Shall, in my Putney pikes, now meet their peers.[57]
Gen. Chiswickians, aged and renown'd in fight,
Join with the Hammersmith brigade.
Lieut.-Gen. You'll find my Mortlake boys will do them right,
Unless by Fulham numbers over-laid.
Gen. Let the left wing of Twick'nam foot advance,
And line that eastern hedge.
Lieut.-Gen. The horse I rais'd in Petty-France
Shall try their chance,
And scour the meadows, overgrown with sedge.
Gen. Stand: give the word.
Lieut.-Gen. Bright sword.
Gen. That may be thine.
But 'tis not mine.
Lieut.-Gen. Give fire, give fire, at once give fire,
And let those recreant troops perceive mine ire.[58]
Gen. Pursue, pursue; they fly
That first did give the lie. [Exeunt.
Bayes. This now is not improper, I think; because the spectators know all these towns, and may easily conceive them to be within the dominions of the two Kings of Brentford.
Johns. Most exceeding well design'd!
Bayes. How do you think I have contriv'd to give a stop to this battle?
Smith. How?
Bayes. By an eclipse; which, let me tell you, is a kind of fancy that was yet never so much as thought of, but by myself, and one person more, that shall be nameless.
Enter Lieutenant-General.
Lieut.-Gen. What midnight darkness does invade the day,
And snatch the victor from his conquer'd prey?
Is the sun weary of this bloody fight,
And winks upon us with the eye of light!
'Tis an eclipse! this was unkind, O moon,
To clap between me and the sun so soon.
Foolish eclipse! thou this in vain hast done;
My brighter honour had eclips'd the sun:
But now behold eclipses two in one. [Exit.
Johns. This is an admirable representation of a battle as ever I saw.
Bayes. Ay, sir; but how would you fancy now to represent an eclipse?
Smith. Why, that's to be suppos'd.
Bayes. Suppos'd! ay, you are ever at your suppose: ha, ha, ha! why, you may as well suppose the whole play. No, it must come in upon the stage, that's certain; but in some odd way, that may delight, amuse, and all that. I have a conceit for't, that I am sure is new, and I believe to the purpose.
Johns. How's that?
Bayes. Why, the truth is, I took the first hint of this out of a dialogue between Phœbus and Aurora, in the "Slighted Maid," which, by my troth, was very pretty; but I think you'd confess this is a little better.
Johns. No doubt on't, Mr. Bayes, a great deal better.
[Bayes hugs Johnson, then turns to Smith.
Bayes. Ah, dear rogue! But—a—sir, you have heard, I suppose, that your eclipse of the moon is nothing else but an interposition of the earth between the sun and moon; as likewise your eclipse of the sun is caus'd by an interlocation of the moon betwixt the earth and the sun.
Smith. I have heard some such thing indeed.
Bayes. Well, sir, then what do I but make the earth, sun, and moon come out upon the stage, and dance the hey. Hum! and of necessity, by the very nature of this dance, the earth must be sometimes between the sun and the moon, and the moon between the earth and sun: and there you have both eclipses by demonstration.
Johns. That must needs be very fine, truly.
Bayes. Yes, it has fancy in't. And then, sir, that there may be something in't, too, of a joke, I bring 'em in all singing; and make the moon sell the earth a bargain. Come, come out, eclipse, to the tune of "Tom Tyler."
Enter Luna.
Luna. Orbis, O Orbis!
Come to me, thou little rogue, Orbis.
Enter the Earth.
Orb. Who calls Terra-firma, pray?[59]
Luna. Luna, that ne'er shines by day.
Orb. What means Luna in a veil?
Luna. Luna means to show her tail.
Bayes. There's the bargain.
Enter Sol, to the tune of "Robin Hood."
Sol. Fie, sister, fie; thou makest me muse,
Derry down, derry down,
To see thee Orb abuse.
Luna. I hope his anger 'twill not move;
Since I show'd it out of love.
Hey down, derry down.
Orb. Where shall I thy true love know,
Thou pretty, pretty moon?
Luna. To-morrow soon, ere it be noon,
On Mount Vesuvio.[60]
Sol. Then I will shine [To the tune of "Trenchmore." Bis.
Orb. And I will be fine.
Luna. And I will drink nothing but Lippara wine.[61]
Omnes. And we, &c. [As they dance the hey, Bayes speaks.
Bayes. Now the earth's before the moon: now the moon's before the sun: there's the eclipse again.
Smith. He's mightily taken with this, I see.
Johns. Ay, 'tis so extraordinary, how can he choose?
Bayes. So, now, vanish eclipse, and enter t'other battle, and fight. Here now, if I am not mistaken, you will see fighting enough.
[A battle is fought between foot and great hobby-horses. At last, Drawcansir comes in and kills them all on both sides. All the while the battle is fighting, Bayes is telling them when to shout, and shouts with 'em.
Draw. Others may boast a single man to kill;
But I the blood of thousands daily spill.
Let petty kings the names of parties know:
Where'er I come, I slay both friend and foe.
The swiftest horse-men my swift rage controls,
And from their bodies drives their trembling souls.
If they had wings, and to the gods could fly,
I would pursue and beat 'em through the sky;
And make proud Jove, with all his thunder, see
This single arm more dreadful is than he. [Exit.
Bayes. There's a brave fellow for you now, sirs. You may talk of your Hectors, and Achilles's, and I know not who; but I defy all your histories, and your romances too, to show me one such conqueror, as this Drawcansir.
Johns. I swear, I think you may.
Smith. But, Mr. Bayes, how shall all these dead men go off? for I see none alive to help 'em.
Bayes. Go off! why, as they came on, upon their legs: how should they go off? Why, do you think the people here don't know they are not dead? he is mighty ignorant, poor man: your friend here is very silly, Mr. Johnson; egad, he is. Ha, ha, ha! Come, sir, I'll show you how they shall go off. Rise, rise, sirs, and go about your business.[62] There's go off for you now; ha, ha, ha! Mr. Ivory, a word. Gentlemen, I'll be with you presently. [Exit.
Johns. Will you so? Then we'll be gone.
Smith. Ay, prithee let's go, that we may preserve our hearing.
One battle more will take mine quite away. [Exeunt.
Enter Bayes and Players.
Bayes. Where are the gentlemen?
1st Play. They are gone, sir.
Bayes. Gone! 'sdeath, this act is best of all. I'll go fetch 'em again. [Exit.
1st Play. What shall we do, now he is gone away?
2nd Play. Why, so much the better; then let's go to dinner.
3rd Play. Stay, here's a foul piece of paper. Let's see what 'tis.
3rd or 4th Play. Ay, ay, come, let's hear it. [Reads. The argument of the fifth act.
3rd Play. "Cloris, at length, being sensible of Prince Prettyman's passion, consents to marry him; but just as they are going to church, Prince Prettyman meeting, by chance, with old Joan, the chandler's widow, and remembering it was she that first brought him acquainted with Cloris; out of a high point of honour, breaks off his match with Cloris, and marries old Joan. Upon which, Cloris, in despair, drowns herself; and Prince Prettyman, discontentedly, walks by the river-side."——This will never do: 'tis just like the rest. Come, let's be gone.
Most of the Players. Ay, plague on't, let's go away. [Exeunt.
Enter Bayes.
Bayes. A plague on 'em both for me! they have made me sweat, to run after 'em. A couple of senseless rascals, that had rather go to dinner, than see this play out, with a plague to 'em. What comfort has a man to write for such dull rogues! Come, Mr.—a—where are you, sir? Come away, quick, quick.
Enter Stage-keeper.
Stage-keep. Sir: they are gone to dinner.
Bayes. Yes, I know the gentlemen are gone; but I ask for the players.
Stage-keep. Why, an't please your worship, sir, the players are gone to dinner too.
Bayes. How! are the players gone to dinner? 'tis impossible: the players gone to dinner! egad, if they are, I'll make 'em know what it is to injure a person that does them the honour to write for 'em, and all that. A company of proud, conceited, humorous, cross-grain'd persons, and all that. Egad, I'll make 'em the most contemptible, despicable, inconsiderable persons, and all that, in the whole world, for this trick. Egad, I'll be revenged on 'em; I'll sell this play to the other house.
Stage-keep. Nay, good sir, don't take away the book; you'll disappoint the company that comes to see it acted here this afternoon.
Bayes. That's all one, I must reserve this comfort to myself, my play and I shall go together; we will not part, indeed, sir.
Stage-keep. But what will the town say, sir?
Bayes. The town! why, what care I for the town? Egad, the town has us'd me as scurvily as the players have done: but I'll be reveng'd on them too; for I'll lampoon 'em all. And since they will not admit of my plays, they shall know what a satirist I am. And so farewell to this stage, egad, for ever. [Exit Bayes.
Enter Players.
1st Play. Come, then, let's set up bills for another play.
2nd Play. Ay, ay; we shall lose nothing by this, I warrant you.
1st Play. I am of your opinion. But before we go, let's see Haynes and Shirley practise the last dance; for that may serve us another time.
2nd Play. I'll call 'em in: I think they are but in the tyring-room. [The dance done.]
1st Play. Come, come; let's go away to dinner. [Exeunt omnes.