THE CHANGELING.

The Changeling: As it was Acted (with great Applause) at the Privat house in Drury-Lane, and Salisbury Court.

Written by bracket Thomas Midleton
and
William Rowley bracket Gent.

Never Printed before. London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Princes-Arms in St Pauls Church-yard, 1653. 4to. The edition just described was put forth with a new title-page in 1668,—The Changeling: As it was Acted (with great Applause) by the Servants of His Royal Highness the Duke of York, at the Theatre in Lincolns-Inn Fields, &c.

The Changeling has been reprinted in the 4th vol. of A Continuation of Dodsley’s Old Plays, 1816.

“The foundation of the Play,” says Langbaine, “may be found in Reynold[s]’s Gods Revenge against Murther. See the Story of Alsemero and Beatrice Joanna, Book I. Hist. 4.” Acc. of Engl. Dram. Poets, p. 371. To the story in Reynolds’s work the following Argument is prefixed: “Beatrice-Joana, to marry Alsemero, causeth De Flores to murther Alfonso Piracquo, who was a Suiter to her. Alsemero marries her,f and finding De Flores and her in adultery, kills them both. Thomaso Piracquo challengeth Alsemero for his Brothers death. Alsemero kills him treacherously in the field, and is beheaded for the same, and his body thrown into the Sea. At his Execution he confesseth that his Wife and De Flores murthered Alfonso Piracquo: their bodies are taken up out of their graves, then burnt, and their Ashes thrown into the Air.” The authors of The Changeling, as the reader will perceive, have deviated in some important points from the prose narrative of Reynolds; nor are they indebted to that source for the characters of Jasperino, Alibius, Lollio, Pedro, Antonio, Franciscus, and Isabella.

An edition (I believe, the earliest) of the First Book of The Triumphs of Gods Revenge against Murther, was printed in 1621: see Cat. Bibl. Bodlei.

A “Note of such playes as were acted at court in 1623 and 1624,” in Sir Henry Herbert’s Office-book, records: “Upon the Sonday after, beinge the 4 of January 1623, by the Queene of Bohemias company, The Changelinge, the prince only being there. Att Whitehall.” Malone’s Shakespeare (by Boswell), vol. iii. p. 227.

The part of Antonio, from which this once-popular drama has its name (Changeling—i. e. idiot, fool), appears to have been much relished by the audience: the last comic performer before the Civil Wars who obtained reputation in it was Robins: see Collier’s Hist. of Engl. Dram. Poetry, vol. ii. p. 107. Downes mentions that Betterton, when about twenty-two years of age, was highly applauded in the character of De Flores, and that Sheppy gave great satisfaction in that of Antonio: see Roscius Anglicanus, p. 26, ed. Waldron. Pepys has noted, under date of 23d Feb. 1660-1, “To the Playhouse, and there saw The Changeling, the first time it hath been acted these twenty years, and it takes exceedingly.” Diary, vol. i. p. 179, ed. 8vo.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Scene, Alicant.
THE CHANGELING.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A street.
Enter Alsemero.
Als. ’Twas in the temple where I first beheld her,
And now again the same: what omen yet
Follows of that? none but imaginary;
Why should my hopes or fate be timorous?
The place is holy, so is my intent:
I love her beauties to the holy purpose;
And that, methinks, admits comparison
With man’s first creation, the place blessed,
And is his right home back, if he achieve it.
The church hath first begun our interview,
And that’s the place must join us into one;
So there’s beginning and perfection too.
Enter Jasperino.
Jas. O sir, are you here? come, the wind’s fair with you;
You’re like to have a swift and pleasant passage.
Als. Sure, you’re deceiv’d, friend; it is contrary,
In my best judgment.
Jas. What, for Malta?[387]
If you could buy a gale[388] amongst the witches,
They could not serve you such a lucky pennyworth
As comes a' God’s name.
Als. Even now I observ’d
The temple’s vane to turn full in my face;
I know it is against me.
Jas. Against you?
Then you know not where you are.
Als. Not well, indeed.
Jas. Are you not well, sir?
Als. Yes, Jasperino,
Unless there be some hidden malady
Within me, that I understand not.
Jas. And that
I begin to doubt, sir: I never knew
Your inclination to travel[389] at a pause,
With any cause to hinder it, till now.
Ashore you were wont to call your servants up,
And help to trap your horses for the speed;
At sea I've seen you weigh the anchor with ’em,
Hoist sails for fear to lose the foremost breath,
Be in continual prayers for fair winds;
And have you chang’d your orisons?
Als. No, friend;
I keep the same church, same devotion.
Jas. Lover I'm sure you’re none; the stoic was
Found in you long ago; your mother nor
Best friends, who have set snares of beauty, ay,
And choice ones too, could never trap you that way:
What might be the cause?
Als. Lord, how violent
Thou art! I was but meditating of
Somewhat I heard within the temple.
Jas. Is this
Violence? ’tis but idleness compar’d
With your haste yesterday.
Als. I'm all this while
A-going, man.
Jas. Backwards, I think, sir. Look, your servants.
Enter Servants.

First Ser. The seamen call; shall we board your trunks?

Als. No, not to-day.

Jas. ’Tis the critical day, it seems, and the sign in Aquarius.

Sec. Ser. We must not to sea to-day; this smoke will bring forth fire.

Als. Keep all on shore; I do not know the end,
Which needs I must do, of an affair in hand
Ere I can go to sea.

First Ser. Well, your pleasure.

Sec. Ser. Let him e’en take his leisure too; we are safer on land. [Exeunt Servants.

Enter Beatrice, Diaphanta, and Servants: Alsemero accosts Beatrice and then kisses her.

Jas. How now? the laws of the Medes are changed sure; salute a woman! he kisses too; wonderful! where learnt he this? and does it perfectly too; in my conscience, he ne’er rehearsed it before. Nay, go on; this will be stranger and better news at Valencia than if he had ransomed half Greece from the Turk. [Aside.

Beat. You are a scholar, sir?

Als. A weak one, lady.

Beat. Which of the sciences is this love you speak of?
Als. From your tongue I take it to be music.
Beat. You’re skilful in it, can sing at first sight.
Als. And I have shew’d you all my skill at once;
I want more words to express me further,
And must be forc’d to repetition;
I love you dearly.
Beat. Be better advis’d, sir:
Our eyes are sentinels unto our judgments,
And should give certain judgment what they see;
But they are rash sometimes, and tell us wonders
Of common things, which when our judgments find,
They can then check the eyes, and call them blind.
Als. But I am further, lady; yesterday
Was mine eyes' employment, and hither now
They brought my judgment, where are both agreed:
Both houses then consenting, ’tis agreed;
Only there wants the confirmation
By the hand royal, that is your part, lady.
Beat. There’s one[390] above me, sir.—O, for five days past
To be recall’d! sure mine eyes were mistaken;
This was the man was meant me: that he should come
So near his time, and miss it! [Aside.

Jas. We might have come by the carriers from Valencia, I see, and saved all our sea-provision; we are at farthest sure: methinks I should do something too;

I meant to be a venturer in this voyage:
Yonder’s another vessel, I'll board her;
If she be lawful prize, down goes her topsail.
[Accosts Diaphanta.
Enter De Flores.
De F. Lady, your father——
Beat. Is in health, I hope.
De F. Your eye shall instantly instruct you, lady;
He’s coming hitherward.
Beat. What needed then
Your duteous preface? I had rather
He had come unexpected; you must stale[391]
A good presence with unnecessary blabbing;
And how welcome for your part you are,
I'm sure you know.
De F. Will’t never mend this scorn,
One side nor other? must I be enjoin’d
To follow still whilst she flies from me? well,
Fates, do your worst, I'll please myself with sight
Of her at all opportunities,
If but to spite her anger: I know she had
Rather see me dead than living; and yet
She knows no cause for’t but a peevish will. [Aside.
Als. You seem’d displeasèd, lady, on the sudden.
Beat. Your pardon, sir, ’tis my infirmity;
Nor can I other reason render you,
Than his or hers, of[392] some particular thing
They must abandon as a deadly poison,
Which to a thousand other tastes were wholesome;
Such to mine eyes is that same fellow there,
The same that report speaks of the basilisk.
Als. This is a frequent frailty in our nature;
There’s scarce a man amongst a thousand found
But hath his imperfection: one distastes
The scent of roses, which to infinites
Most pleasing is and odoriferous;
One oil, the enemy of poison;
Another wine, the cheerer of the heart
And lively refresher of the countenance:
Indeed this fault, if so it be, is general;
There’s scarce a thing but is both lov’d and loath’d:
Myself, I must confess, have the same frailty.
Beat. And what may be your poison, sir? I'm bold with you.
Als. What[393] might be your desire, perhaps; a cherry.
Beat. I am no enemy to any creature
My memory has, but yon gentleman.
Als. He does ill to tempt your sight, if he knew it.
Beat. He cannot be ignorant of that, sir,
I have not spar’d to tell him so; and I want
To help myself, since he’s a gentleman
In good respect with my father, and follows him.
Als. He’s out of his place then now.
[They talk apart.

Jas. I am a mad wag, wench.

Dia. So methinks; but, for your comfort, I can tell you, we have a doctor in the city that undertakes the cure of such.

Jas. Tush, I know what physic is best for the state of mine own body.

Dia. ’Tis scarce a well-governed state, I believe.

Jas. I could shew thee such a thing with an ingredience[394] that we two would compound together, and if it did not tame the maddest blood i' th' town for two hours after, I'll ne’er profess physic again.

Dia. A little poppy, sir, were good to cause you sleep.

Jas. Poppy? I'll give thee a pop i' th' lips for that first, and begin there: poppy is one simple indeed, and cuckoo-what-you-call’t another: I'll discover no more now; another time I'll shew thee all. [Exit.

Beat. My father, sir.

Enter Vermandero and Servants.
Ver. O Joanna, I came to meet thee;
Your devotion’s ended?
Beat. For this time, sir.—
I shall change my saint, I fear me; I find
A giddy turning in me. [Aside.]—Sir, this while
I am beholding[396] to this gentleman, who
Left his own way to keep me company,
And in discourse I find him much desirous
To see your castle;[397] he hath deserv’d it, sir,
If ye please to grant it.
Ver. With all my heart, sir:
Yet there’s an article between, I must know
Your country; we use not to give survey
Of our chief strengths to strangers; our citadels
Are plac’d conspicuous to outward view,
On promonts'[398] tops, but within are secrets.
Als. A Valencian, sir.
Ver. A Valencian?
That’s native, sir: of what name, I beseech you?
Als. Alsemero, sir.
Ver. Alsemero? not the son
Of John de Alsemero?
Als. The same, sir.
Ver. My best love bids you welcome.
Beat. He was wont
To call me so, and then he speaks a most
Unfeignèd truth.
Ver. O sir, I knew your father;
We two were in acquaintance long ago,
Before our chins were worth iulan[399] down,
And so continu’d till the stamp of time
Had coin’d us into silver: well, he’s gone;
A good soldier went with him.
Als. You went together in that, sir.
Ver. No, by Saint Jaques, I came behind him;
Yet I've done somewhat too: an unhappy day
Swallowed him at last at Gibraltar,
In fight with those rebellious Hollanders;
Was it not so?
Als. Whose death I had reveng’d,[400]
Or follow’d him in fate, had not the late league
Prevented me.
Ver. Ay, ay, ’twas time to breathe.—
O, Joanna, I should ha' told thee news;
I saw Piracquo lately.
Beat. That’s ill news. [Aside.
Ver. He’s hot preparing for this[401] day of triumph:
Thou must be a bride within this sevennight.
Als. Ha! [Aside.
Beat. Nay, good sir, be not so violent; with speed
I cannot render satisfaction
Unto the dear companion of my soul,
Virginity, whom I thus long have liv’d with,
And part with it so rude and suddenly;
Can such friends divide, never to meet again,
Without a solemn farewell?
Ver. Tush, tush! there’s a toy.[402]
Als. I must now part, and never meet again
With any joy on earth. [Aside.]—Sir, your pardon;
My affairs call on me.
Ver. How, sir? by no means:
Not chang’d so soon, I hope? you must see my castle,
And her best entertainment, ere we part,
I shall think myself unkindly usèd else.
Come, come, let’s on; I had good hope your stay
Had been a while with us in Aligant;[403]
I might have bid you to my daughter’s wedding.
Als. He means to feast me, and poisons me beforehand.— [Aside.
I should be dearly glad to be there, sir,
Did my occasions suit as I could wish.
Beat. I shall be sorry if you be not there
When it is done, sir; but not so suddenly.
Ver. I tell you, sir, the gentleman’s complete,
A courtier and a gallant, enrich’d
With many fair and noble ornaments;
I would not change him for a son-in-law
For any he in Spain, the proudest he,
And we have great ones, that you know.
Als. He’s much
Bound to you, sir.
Ver. He shall be bound to me
As fast as this tie can hold him; I'll want
My will else.
Beat. I shall want mine, if you do it. [Aside.
Ver. But come, by the way I'll tell you more of him.
Als. How shall I dare to venture in his castle,
When he discharges murderers[404] at the gate?
But I must on, for back I cannot go. [Aside.
Beat. Not this serpent gone yet?
[Aside. Drops a glove.
Ver. Look, girl, thy glove’s fallen.
Stay, stay; De Flores, help a little.
[Exeunt. Vermandero, Alsemero, and Servants.
De F. Here, lady. [Offers her the glove.
Beat. Mischief on your officious forwardness!
Who bade you stoop? they touch my hand no more:
There! for the other’s sake I part with this;
[Takes off and throws down the other glove.

Take ’em, and draw thine own skin off with ’em!

[Exit with Diaphanta and Servants.
De F. Here’s a favour come with a mischief now! I know
She had rather wear my pelt[405] tann’d in a pair
Of dancing pumps, than I should thrust my fingers
Into her sockets here: I know she hates me,
Yet cannot choose but love her: no matter:
If but to vex her, I will haunt her still;
Though I get nothing else, I'll have my will. [Exit.

SCENE II.

A room in the house of Alibius.
Enter Alibius and Lollio.
Alib. Lollio, I must trust thee with a secret,
But thou must keep it.
Lol. I was ever close to a secret, sir.
Alib. The diligence that I have found in thee,
The care and industry already past,
Assure[406] me of thy good continuance.
Lollio, I have a wife.

Lol. Fie, sir, ’tis too late to keep her secret; she’s known to be married all the town and country over.

Alib. Thou goest too fast, my Lollio; that knowledge
I allow no man can be barrèd it;
But there is a knowledge which is nearer,
Deeper, and sweeter, Lollio.

Lol. Well, sir, let us handle that between you and I.

Alib. ’Tis that I go about, man: Lollio,
My wife is young.

Lol. So much the worse to be kept secret, sir.

Alib. Why, now thou meet’st the substance of the point;
I am old, Lollio.

Lol. No, sir, ’tis I am old Lollio.

Alib. Yet why may not these[407] concord and sympathise?
Old trees and young plants often grow together,
Well enough agreeing.

Lol. Ay, sir, but the old trees raise themselves higher and broader than the young plants.

Alib. Shrewd application![408] there’s the fear, man;
I would wear my ring on my own finger;
Whilst it is borrow’d, it is none of mine,
But his that useth it.

Lol. You must keep it on still then; if it but lie by, one or other will be thrusting into ’t.

Alib. Thou conceiv’st me, Lollio; here thy watchful eye
Must have employment; I cannot always be
At home.

Lol. I dare swear you cannot.

Alib. I must look out.

Lol. I know’t, you must look out, ’tis every man’s case.

Alib. Here, I do say, must thy employment be;
To watch her treadings, and in my absence
Supply my place.

Lol. I'll do my best, sir; yet surely I cannot see who you should have cause to be jealous of.

Alib. Thy reason for that, Lollio; it is
A comfortable question.

Lol. We have but two sorts of people in the house, and both under the whip, that’s fools and madmen; the one has not wit enough to be knaves, and the other not knavery enough to be fools.

Alib. Ay, those are all my patients, Lollio;
I do profess the cure of either sort,
My trade, my living ’tis, I thrive by it;
But here’s the care that mixes with my thrift;
The daily visitants, that come to see
My brain-sick patients, I would not have
To see my wife: gallants I do observe
Of quick enticing eyes, rich in habits,
Of stature and proportion very comely:
Thee are most shrewd temptations, Lollio.

Lol. They may be easily answered, sir; if they come to see the fools and madmen, you and I may serve the turn, and let my mistress alone, she’s of neither sort.

Alib. ’Tis a good ward;[409] indeed, come they to see
Our madmen or our fools, let ’em see no more
Than what they come for; by that consequent
They must not see her, I'm sure she’s no fool.

Lol. And I'm sure she’s no madman.

Alib. Hold that buckler fast; Lollio, my trust
Is on thee, and I account it firm and strong.
What hour is’t, Lollio?

Lol. Towards belly-hour, sir.

Alib. Dinner-time? thou mean’st twelve a’clock?

Lol. Yes, sir, for every part has his hour: we wake at six and look about us, that’s eye-hour; at seven we should pray, that’s knee-hour; at eight walk, that’s leg-hour; at nine gather flowers and pluck a rose,[410] that’s nose-hour; at ten we drink, that’s mouth-hour; at eleven lay about us for victuals, that’s hand-hour; at twelve go to dinner, that’s belly-hour.

Alib. Profoundly, Lollio! it will be long
Ere all thy scholars learn this lesson, and
I did look to have a new one enter’d;—stay,
I think my expectation is come home.
Enter Pedro, and Antonio disguised as an idiot.
Ped. Save you, sir; my business speaks itself,
This sight takes off the labour of my tongue.
Alib. Ay, ay, sir, it is plain enough, you mean
Him for my patient.

Ped. And if your pains prove but commodious, to give but some little strength to the[411] sick and weak part of nature in him, these are [gives him money] but patterns to shew you of the whole pieces that will follow to you, beside the charge of diet, washing, and other necessaries, fully defrayed.

Alib. Believe it, sir, there shall no care be wanting.

Lol. Sir, an officer in this place may deserve something, the trouble will pass through my hands.

Ped. ’Tis fit something should come to your hands then, sir. [Gives him money.

Lol. Yes, sir, ’tis I must keep him sweet, and read to him: what is his name?

Ped. His name is Antonio; marry, we use but half to him, only Tony.

Lol. Tony, Tony, ’tis enough, and a very good name for a fool.—What’s your name, Tony?

Ant. He, he, he! well, I thank you, cousin; he, he, he!

Lol. Good boy! hold up your head.—He can laugh; I perceive by that he is no beast.

Ped. Well, sir,
If you can raise him but to any height,
Any degree of wit, might he attain,
As I might say, to creep but on all four
Towards the chair of wit, or walk on crutches,
'Twould add an honour to your worthy pains,
And a great family might pray for you,
To which he should be heir, had he discretion
To claim and guide his own: assure you, sir,
He is a gentleman.

Lol. Nay, there’s nobody doubted that; at first sight I knew him for a gentleman, he looks no other yet.

Ped. Let him have good attendance and sweet lodging.

Lol. As good as my mistress lies in, sir; and as you allow us time and means, we can raise him to the higher degree of discretion.

Ped. Nay, there shall no cost want, sir.

Lol. He will hardly be stretched up to the wit of a magnifico.

Ped. O no, that’s not to be expected; far shorter will be enough.

Lol. I'll warrant you [I'll] make him fit to bear office in five weeks; I'll undertake to wind him up to the wit of constable.

Ped. If it be lower than that, it might serve turn.

Lol. No, fie; to level him with a headborough, beadle, or watchman, were but little better than he is: constable I'll able[412] him; if he do come to be a justice afterwards, let him thank the keeper: or I'll go further with you; say I do bring him up to my own pitch, say I make him as wise as myself.

Ped. Why, there I would have it.

Lol. Well, go to; either I'll be as arrant a fool as he, or he shall be as wise as I, and then I think 'twill serve his turn.

Ped. Nay, I do like thy wit passing well.

Lol. Yes, you may; yet if I had not been a fool, I had had more wit than I have too: remember what state[413] you find me in.

Ped. I will, and so leave you: your best cares, I beseech you.