The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hurlothrumbo
Title: Hurlothrumbo
or, The super-natural
Author: Samuel Johnson
Release date: September 2, 2025 [eBook #76792]
Language: English
Original publication: London: Printed for the Author, 1729
Credits: Hannah Wilson, Matthew Everett and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Books project.)
HURLOTHRUMBO: OR: THE Super-Natural
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,
TO The Right Honble 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
PROLOGUE.
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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. |
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Through boundless space wings her Celestial Way, And Eagle-ey’d confronts the Source of Day; Criticks begone, avant ye Sons of Clay! |
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To every Star its Name and Course assign, In narrow Bounds the swelling Tides confine, And teach the Ruler of the Day to shine. |
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Sluggish the servile Mule sustains the Weight; Wolves bait the Moon because she shines so bright; And Owls are blinded with Excess of Light. |
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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. |
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The God of Number and melodious Strains, Triumphant drives through Empyrean Plains, Impetuous bound the Steeds nor hear the Reins |
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If Soar-æthereal’s Characters too high, For mean Conception shocks the vulgar Eye, Let filthy Mire accuse the Azure Sky. |
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Diamonds to Swine are despicable Things, Lost to the Mole the Vernal Verdure Springs, And Adders hiss tho’ Senesino sings. |
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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. |
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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.
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.
[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.
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.
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