Ben: Jonson Page

The Magnetick Lady.
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485

T H E
M A G N E T I C K
L  A  D  Y:
O R
Humours  Reconcil'd.
A   C O M E D Y.
Composed by Ben. Johnson.
Jam lapides suus ardor agit ferrumq; tenetur,
Illecebris ——                         Claud. de Magnet.
The S C E N E,   L O N D O N.

The  P E R S O N S   that  A C T.

L A D Y  L O A D S T O N E,         The Magnetick Lady.
Mistris  P O L I S H,         Her Gossip and she-Parasite.
Mistris  P L A C E N T I A,         Her Neice.obsolete form of 'Niece'
P L E A S A N C E,         Her Waiting-woman,
Mistris  K E E P E,         The Neices Nurse.
Mother  C H A I R,         The Midwife.
Mr.  C O M P A S S,         A Scholar Mathematick.
Captain  I R O N S I D E,         A Soldier.
Parson  P A L A T E,         Prelate of the Parish.
Doctor  R U T,         Physician to the House.
T I M  I T E M,         His Apothecary.
Sir  D I A P H  S I L K W O R M,         A Courtier.
Mr.  P R A C T I S E,         A Lawyer.
Sir  M O A T E  I N T E R E S T,         An Usurer, or Money-Bawd.
Mr.  B I A S,         A Vi-politick, or Sub-secretary.
Mr.  N E E D L E,         The Ladies Steward and Taylor.


The  C H O R U S  by way of Induction.

T H E



486
T H E
I N D u C T I O N
O R
C H O R u S.

Two Gentlemen entring upon the Stage.

Mr. Probee and Mr. Damplay.

A Boy of the House meets them.

B
Oy. What do you lack, Gentlemen? what
 is't you lack? any fine Phansies, Figures,
Humors, Characters, Ideas, Definitions of Lords
and Ladies? Waiting-women, Parasites, Knights,
Captains, Courtiers, Lawyers? what do you
lack?
   Pro. A pretty prompt Boy for the Poetick Shop.
   Dam. And a bold! where's one o' your Masters;
Sirrah, the Poet?
   Boy. Which of 'em? Sir we have divers that
drive that Trade, now: Poets, Poet'accios, Poe-
tasters, Poetito's ——
   Dam. And all Haberdashers of small Wit, I
presume; we would speak with the Poet o' the
day, Boy.
   Boy. Sir, he is not here. But, I have the Do-
minion of the Shop, for this time, under him,
and can shew you all the variety the Stage will af-
ford for the present.
   Pro. Therein you will express your own good
Parts, Boy.
   Dam. And tye us two to you for the gentle
Office.
   Pro. We are a Pair of publick Persons (this
Gentleman and my self) that are sent, thus coup-
led unto you upon State-business.
   Boy. It concerns but the State of the Stage I
hope!
   Dam. O, you shall know that by degrees, Boy.
No Man leaps into a business of State, without
fourding first the State of the business.
   Pro. We are sent unto you, indeed from the
People.
   Boy. The People! which side of the People?
   Dam. The Venison side, if you know it, Boy.
   Boy. That's the left side. I had rather they had
been the right.
   Pro. So they are. Not the Faces, or Grounds
of your People, that sit in the oblick Caves and

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Wedges of your House, your sinful Six-penny
Mechanicks ——
   Dam. But the better, and braver sort of your
People! Plush and Velvet-outsides! that stick your
House round like so many Eminences ——
   Boy. Of Clothes, not Understandings? They
are at pawn. Well, I take these as a part of
your People though; what bring you to me from
these People?
   Dam. You have heard, Boy, the ancient Poets
had it in their purpose, still to please this People.
   Pro. I, their chief aim was ——
   Dam. Populo ut placerent: (if he understands so
much.)
   Boy. left bracket '(' omittedQuas fecissent fabulas.) I understand that,
sin' I learn'd Terence, i' the third Form at Westmin-
ster: go on, Sir.
   Pro. Now, these People have imployed us to
you, in all their Names, to intreat an excellent
Play from you.
   Dam. For they have had very mean ones, from
this Shop of late, the Stage as you call it.
   Boy. Troth, Gentlemen, I have no Wares, which
I dare thrust upon the People with praise. But this,
such as it is, I will venture with your People, your
gay gallant People: so as you, again, will un-
dertake for them, that they shall know a good
Play when they hear it; and will have the Con-
science and Ingenuity beside to confess it.
   Prob. We'll pass our words for that: you shall
have a Brace of us to ingage our selves.
   Boy. You'll tender your Names, Gentlemen, to
our Book then?
   Dam. Yes, here's Mr. Probee; a man of most
powerful Speech, and Parts to perswade.
   Pro. And Mr. Damplay will make good all he
undertakes.
   Boy. Good Mr. Probee, and Mr. Damplay! I like
your Securities: whence do you write your selves?
   Pro. Of London, Gentlemen: but Knights Bro-
thers, and Knights Friends, I assure you.
   Dam. And Knights Fellow's too. Every Poet
writes Squire now.
   Boy. You are good Names! very good Men,
both of you! I accept you.

Dam. And   


               The Induction. 487

   Dam. And what is the Title of your Play, here?
The Magnetick Lady?
   Boy. Yes, Sir, an attractive Title the Author
has given it.
   Pro. A Magnete, I warrant you.
   Dam. O, no, from Magnus, Magna, Magnum.
   Boy. This Gentleman hath found the true Mag-
nitude ———
   Dam. Of his Portal or Entry to the Work, ac-
cording to Vitruvius.
   Boy. Sir, all our work is done without a Por-
tal —— or Vitruvius. In Foro, as a true Comedy
should be. And what is conceal'd within, is
brought out, and made present by report.
   Dam. We see not that always observ'd by your
Authors of these Times; or scarce any other.
   Boy. Where it is not at all known, how should
it be observ'd? The most of those your People
call Authors, never dreamt of any Decorum, or
what was proper in the Scene; but grope at it i'
the dark, and feel or fumble for it; I speak it, both
with their leave and the leave o' your People.
   Dam. But, why Humors reconcil'd; I would
fain know?
   Boy. I can satisfie you there too: if you will.
But, perhaps you desire not to be satisfied.
   Dam. No? Why should you conceive so, Boy?
   Boy. My Conceit is not ripe yet: I'll tell you
that anon. The Author beginning his Studies of
this kind, with every Man in his Humour; and
after every Man out of his Humour; and since,
continuing in all his Plays, especially those of the
Comick Thred, whereof the New-Inn was the last,
some recent Humours still, or Manners of Men,
that went along with the Times; finding himself
now near the close, or shutting up of his Circle,
hath phant'sied to himself, in Idæa, this Magnetick
Mistris. A Lady, a brave bountiful House-
keeper, and a vertuous Widow: who having a
young Neice, ripe for a Man and marriageable,
he makes that his Center attractive, to draw thi-
ther a diversity of Guests, all Persons of different
Humours to make up his Perimiter. And this he
hath call'd Humours reconcil'd.

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   Pro. A bold undertaking! and far greater then
the Reconciliation of both Churches, the Quar-
rel between Humours having been much the an-
cienter; and, in my poor Opinion, the Root of
all Schism and Faction both in Church and Com-
mon-wealth.
   Boy. Such is the Opinion of many wise Men,
that meet at this Shop still, but how he will speed
in it, we cannot tell, and he himself (it seems)
less cares. For he will not be intreated by us,
to give it a Prologue. He has lost too much that
way already, he says. He will not wooe the
Gentile ignorance so much. But careless of all
vulgar Censure, as not depending on common
Approbation, he is confident it shall super-please
judicious Spectators, and to them he leaves it to
work with the rest, by Example or otherwise.
   Dam. He may be deceived in that, Boy: Few
follow Examples now, especially if they be good.
   Boy. The Play is ready to begin, Gentlemen, I
tell yon,you lest you might defraud the expectation of
the People, for whom you are Delegates! Please
you take a couple of Seats and plant your selves,
here, as near my standing as you can: Fly every
thing (you see) to the Mark, and censure it,
freely. So you interrupt not the Series or Thred
of the Argument, to break or pucker it, with
unnecessary Questions. For, I must tell you,
(not out of mine own Dictamen, but the Authors,)
A good Play is like a Skean of Silk: which, if you
take by the right end, you may wind off at plea-
sure, on the Bottom or Card of your Discourse,
in a Tale, or so; how you will: But if you
light on the wrong end, you will pull all into a
knot, or Elfe-lock; which nothing but the Sheers,
or a Candle will undo, or separate.
   Dam. Stay! who be these, I pray you?
   Boy. Because it is your first Question, and
(these be the prime persons) it would in civility
require an answer: but I have heard the Poet af-
firm, that to be the most unlucky Scene in a Play,
which needs an Interpreter; especially, when
the Auditory are awake: and such are you, he
presumes. Ergo.






T H E




488

T H E
M A G N E T I C K
L  A  D  Y:
O R
Humours  Reconcil'd.

Act I.    Scene I.

Compass, Ironside.

C

Om. Welcome, good Captain Ironside, and Bro-
        ther;
 You shall along with me. I'm lodg'd hard by
 Here, at a noble Ladies House i' th' street,
The Lady Loadstones (one will bid us welcome)
Where there are Gentlewomen, and male Guests
Of several humours, carriage, constitution,
Profession too: but so diametral
One to another, and so much oppos'd,
As if I can but hold them all together,
And draw 'em to a sufferance of themselves,
But till the Dissolution of the Dinner,
I shall have just occasion to believe
My wit is magisterial; and our selves
Take infinite delight i' the success.
   Iro. Troth, Brother Compass, you shall pardon me;
I love not so to multiply acquaintance
At a Meals cost; 'twill take off o' my freedom
So much; or bind me to the least observance.
   Com. Why, Ironside, you know I am a Scholar,
And part a Soldier; I have been employed
By some the greatest States-men o' the Kingdom,
These many years: and in my time convers'd
With sundry humors, suiting so my self
To company, as honest Men, and Knaves,
Good-fellows, Hypocrites, all sorts of People,
Though never so divided in themselves,
Have studied to agree still in the usage,
And handling of me (which hath been fair too.)
   Iro. Sir I confess you to be one well read
In Men, and Manners; and that, usually,
The most ungovern'd Persons, you being present,
Rather subject themselves unto your censure,
Than give you least occasion of distaste,
By making you the subject of their mirth:
But (to deal plainly with you, as a Brother)
When ever I distrust i' my own Valour:
I'll never bear me on anothers Wit,
Or offer to bring off, or save my self
On the opinion of your Judgment, Gravity,
Discretion, or what else. But (being away)
You 'are sure to have less-wit-work, gentle Brother,
My humour being as stubborn as the rest,
And as unmanageable.   Com. You do mistake
My Caract of your friendship all this while!

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Or at what rate I reckon your assistance,
Knowing by long experience, to such Animals,
Half-hearted Creatures, as these are, your Fox there,
Unkennel'd with a Cholerick, ghastly aspect,
Or two or three comminatory Terms,
Would run their fears to any hole of shelter,
Worth a days laughter! I am for the sport:
For nothing else.   Iro. But, Brother, I ha' seen
A Coward, meeting with a Man as valiant
As our St. George (not knowing him to be such,
Or having least opinion that he was so)
Set to him roundly, I, and swinge him soundly:
And i' the vertue of that error, having
Once overcome, resolv'd for ever after
To erre; and think no Person, nor no Creature
More valiant than himself.   Com. I think that too:
But, Brother, (could I over intreat you)
I have some little Plot upon the rest
If you would be contented, to endure
A sliding reprehension at my hands,
To hear your self, or your profession glanc'd at
In a few slighting terms: It would beget
Me such a main Authority, o' the bie,
And do your self no dis-repute at all!
   Iro. Compass, I know that universal Causes
In nature produce nothing, but as meeting
Particular Causes, to determine those,
And specifie their acts. This is a piece
Of Oxford Science, staies with me ere since
I left that place; and I have often found
The truth thereof, in my private passions:
For I do never feel my self perturb'd
With any general words 'gainst my profession,
Unless by some smart stroke upon my self
They do awake, and stir me: else, to wise
And well experienc'd Men, words do but signifie;
They have no power, save with dull Grammarians,
Whose Souls are nought, but a Syntaxis of them.
   Com. Here comes our Parson, Parson Palate here,
A venerable Youth! I must salute him,
And a great Clerk! he's going to the Ladies,
And though you see him thus, without his Cope,
I dare assure you, he's our Parish Pope!
God save my reverend Clergy, Parson Palate.


Act     


           The Magnetick Lady. 489

Act I.    Scene II.

Palate, Compass, Ironside.

Pal. 
T
He witty Mr. Compass! how is't, with you?
   Com. My Lady stays for you, and for your
            Counsel,
Touching her Niece Mrs. Placentia Steel!
Who strikes the fire of full fourteen to day,
Ripe for a Husband.   Pal. I, she chimes, she chimes.
Saw you the Doctor Rut, the House Physician?
He's sent for too.   Com. To Counsel?Council time yo'were there.
Make haste, and give it a round quick dispatch:
That we may go to Dinner betimes, Parson:
And drink a Health, or two more, to the business.
   Iro. This is a strange put-off! a reverend youth,
You use him most surreverently methinks!
What call you him? Palate Please? or Parson Palate?
   Com. All's one, but shorter! I can gi' you his Character.
He is the Prelate of the Parish, here,
And governs all the Dames, appoints the Cheer,
Writes down the Bills of Fare, pricks all the Guests,
Makes all the Matches and the Marriage Feasts
Within the Ward; draws all the Parish Wills,
Designs the Legacies, and strokes the Gills
Of the chief Mourners: And (whoever lacks)
Of all the Kindred, he hath first his Blacks.
Thus holds he Weddings up, and Burials,
As his main Tithing; with the Gossips Stalls,
Their Pews; he's top still, at the Publick Mess,
Comforts the Widow, and the fatherless,
In funeral Sack! Sits 'bove the Alderman¡inverted exclamation mark should be replaced with a semi-colon
For of the Ward-mote Quest, he better can,
The mystery, than the Levitick Law:
That piece of Clark-ship doth his Vestry awe.
He is, as he conceives himself, a fine
Well furnish'd, and apparelled Divine.
   Iro. Who made this Epigram, you?
   Com. No, a great Clerk
As any's of his bulk (Benj. Johnson) made it.
   Iro. But what's the other Character, Doctor Rut?
   Com. The same Man made 'em both: but his is shorter,
And not in Rhime, but Blanks. I'll tell you that, too.
Rut is a young Physician to the Family:
That, letting God alone, ascribes to nature
More than her share; licentious in discourse,
And in his life a profest Voluptuary;
The slave of Money, a Buffoon in Manners;
Obscene in Language; which he vents for Wit;
Is sawcy in his Logicks, and disputing;
Is any thing but Civil, or a Man.
See here they are! and walking with my Lady,
In consultation, afore the Door;
We will slip in, as if we saw 'em not.

Act I.    Scene III.

Lady, Palate, Rut.

Lad. 
I
, 'tis his fault, she's not bestow'd,
 My Brother Interests.   Pal. Who, old Sir Moath?
   Lad. He keeps off all her Suitors, keeps the Portion
Still in his Hands: and will not part with all,
On any terms.   Pal. Hinc illæ lachrymæ;
Thence flows the cause o' the main grievance.   Rut. That
It is a main one! how much is the Portion?
   Lad. No petty sum.   Pal. But sixteen thousand Pound.
   Rut. He should be forc'd, Madam, to lay it down.
When is it payable?   Lad. When she is married.
   Pal. Marry her, marry her, Madam.
   Rut. Get her married.
LooseLose not a day, an hour ——— Pal. Not a minute.
Pursue your Project real, Mr. Compass

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Advis'd you to. He is the perfect Instrument
Your Ladiship should sail by.   Rut. Now, Mr. Compass
Is a fine witty Man; I saw him go in, now.
   Lad. Is he gone in?   Pal. Yes, and a Feather with him,
He seems a Soldier.   Rut. Some new Suitor, Madam.
   Lad. I am beholding to him: He brings ever
Variety of good Persons to my Table,
And I must thank him, though my Brother Interest
Dislike of it a little.   Pal. He likes nothing
That runs your way.   Rut. Troth, and the other cares not.
He'll go his own way, if he think it right.
   Lad. He's a true Friend! and there's Mr. Practice,
The fine young Man of Law, comes to the House:
My Brother brooks him not, because he thinks
He is by me assigned for my Niece:
He will not hear of it.   Rut. Not of that Ear:
But yet your Ladiship doth wisely in it ——
   Pal. 'Twill make him to lay down the Portion sooner,
If he but dream you'll match her with a Lawyer.
   Lad. So Mr. Compass says. It is between
The Lawyer, and the Courtier, which shall have her.
   Pal. Who, Sir Diaphanous Silk-worm?
   Rut. A fine Gentleman,
Old Mr. Silk-worm's Heir.   Pal. And a neat Courtier,
Of a most elegant Thread.   Lad. And so my Gossip
Polish assures me. Here she comes! good Polish
Welcome in troth! How do'st thou, gentle Polish?
   Rut. Who's this?   Pal. Dame Polish, her She-parasite,
Her talking, soothing, sometime governing Gossip.

Act I.    Scene IV.

Polish, Lady, Palate, Rut.

Pal. 
Y
Our Ladiship is still the Lady Loadstone,
 That draws, and draws unto you, Guests of all
               sorts:
The Courtiers, and the Soldiers, and the Scholars,
The Travellers, Physicians, and Divines,
As Doctor Ridley writ, and Doctor Barlow.
They both have wrote of you, and Mr. Compass.
   Lad. We mean, they shall write more, ere it be long.
   Pol. Alas, they are both dead, and't please you; but
Your Ladiship means well, and shall mean well,
So long as I live. How does your fine Niece?
My charge, Mistris Placentia Steel?
   Lad. She is not well.   Pol. Not well?
   Lad. Her Doctor says so.
   Rut. Not very well; she cannot shoot at Buts,
Or manage a great Horse, but she can cranch
A sack of Small-coal! eat you Lime, and Hair,
Soap-ashes, Loam, and has a dainty spice
O' the Green-sickness!   Pol. 'Od shield!   Rut. Or the Dropsie!
A toy, a thing of nothing. But my Lady, here,
Her noble Aunt.   Pol. She is a noble Aunt!
And a right worshipful Lady, and a vertuous;
I know it well!   Rut. Well, if you know it, peace.
   Pal. Good Sister Polish, hear your betters speak.
   Pol. Sir I will speak, with my good Ladies leave,
And speak, and speak again; I did bring up
My Ladies Niece, Mrs. Placentia Steel,
With my own Daughter (who's Placentia too)
And waits upon my Lady, is her Woman:
Her Ladiship well knows Mrs. Placentia
Steel (as I said) her curious Niece, was left
A Legacy to me, by Father and Mother,
With the Nurse, Keep, that tended her: her Mother
She died in Child-bed of her, and her Father
Liv'd not long after: for he lov'd her Mother!
They were a godly couple! yet both di'd,
(As we must all.) No Creature is immortal,
I have heard our Pastor say: no, not the faithful!
And they did die (as I said) both in one month,
   Rut. Sure she is not long liv'd, if she spend Breath thus.
R r r                                      Pol. And                         


490 The Magnetick Lady.               

   Pol. And did bequeath her, to my care, and hand,
To polish, and bring up. I moulded her,
And fashion'd her, and form'd her; she had the sweat
Both of my Brows and Brains. My Lady knows it
Since she could write a quarter old.   Lad. I know not
That she could write so early, my good Gossip.
But I do know she was so long your care,
Till she was twelve year old; that I call'd for her,
And took her home, for which I thank you Polish,
And am beholden to you.   Rut. I sure thought
She had a Lease of talking, for nine lives ——
   Pal. It may be she has.   Pol. Sir, sixteen thousand Pound
Was then her Portion! for she was, indeed,
Their only Child! and this was to be paid
Upon her Marriage, so she married still
With my good Ladies liking here, her Aunt:
(I heard the Will read) Mr. Steel, her Father,
The World condemn'd him to be very rich,
And very hard; and he did stand condemn'd
With that vain World, till, as 'twas prov'd, after
He left almost as much more to good uses
In Sir Moath Interest's hands, my Ladies Brother,
Whose Sister he had married: he holds all
In his close gripe. But Mr. Steel was liberal,
And a fine Man; and she a dainty Dame,
And a religious, and a bountiful ———

Act I.    Scene V.

To them.]                  Compass, Ironside.

Y
Ou knew her, Mr. Compass?   Com. Spare the torture,
 I do confess without it.   Pol. And her Husband,
What a fine couple they were? and how they liv'd?
   Com. Yes.
   Pol. And lov'd together, like a pair of Turtles!   Com. Yes.
   Pol. And feasted all the Neighbours.   Comperiod omitted Take her off
Some body that hath mercy.   Rut. O he knows her,
It seems!   Com. Or any measure of compassion:
Doctors, if you be Christians, undertake
One for the Soul, the other for the Body!
   Pol. She would dispute with the Doctors of Divinity,
At her own Table! and the Spittle Preachers!
And find out the Armenians.   Rut. The Armenians?
   Pol. I say, the Armenians.   Com. Nay, I say so too!
   Pol. So Mr. Polish call'd 'em, the Armenians!
   Com. And Medes and Persians, did he not?
   Pol. Yes, he knew 'em,
And so did Mistris Steell: She was his Pupil.
The Armenians, he would say, were worse than Papists:
And then the Persians were our Puritans,
Had the fine piercing wits!   Com. And who, the Medes?
   Pol. The middle Men, the luke-warm Protestants?
   Rut. Out, out.   Pol. Sir, she would find them by their
       branching:
Their branching Sleeves, brancht Cassocks, and brancht
       Doctrine,
Beside their Texts.   Rut. Stint Karlin: I'll not hear,
Confute her Parson.   Pol. I respect no Parsons,
Chaplins, or Doctors, I will speak.   Lad. Yes, so't be reason,
Let her.   Rut. 'Death, she cannot speak reason.
   Com. Nor sense, if we be Masters of our senses!
   Iro. What mad Woman ha' they got here, to bate?
   Pol. Sir, I am mad, in truth, and to the purpose;
And cannot but be mad, to hear my Ladies
Dead Sister slighted, witty Mrs. Steel!
   Iro. If she had a wit, Death has gone neer to spoil it,
Assure your self.   Pol. She was both witty, and zealous,
And lighted all the Tinder o' the truth,
(As one said) of Religion, in our Parish;
She was too learn'd to live long with us!
She could the Bible in the Holy Tongue:
And read it without Pricks: had all her Masoreth;
Knew Burton, and his Bull; and scribe Prin-Gent.

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Præsto-be-gon: and all the Pharisees.   Lad. Dear Gossip,
Be you gone, at this time, too, and vouchsafe
To see your charge, my Niece.   Pol. I shall obey
If your wise Ladiship think fit: I know
To yield to my Superiors.   Lad. A good Woman!
But when she is impertinent, grows earnest,
A little troublesome, and out of season:
Her love and zeal transport her.   Com. I am glad
That any thing could port her hence. We now
Have hope of Dinner, after her long Grace.
I have brought your Ladiship a hungry Guest here,
A Soldier, and my Brother Captain Ironside:
Who being by custom grown a Sanguinary,
The solemn and adopted Son of slaughter:
Is more delighted i' the chase of an Enemy,
An execution of three days, and nights,
Then all the hope of numerous succession,
Or happiness of Issue could bring to him.
   Rut. He is no Suitor then?   Pal. So't should seem.
   Com. And if he can get pardon at Heavens hand
For all his murthers, is in as good case
As a new christ'ned Infant: (his Imployments
Continu'd to him, without interruption,
And not allowing him, or time, or place
To commit any other sin, but those)
Please you to make him welcome for a meal, Madam.
   Lad. The nobleness of his profession makes
His welcome perfect: though your course description
Would seem to sully it.   Iro. Never, where a beam
Of so much favour doth illustrate it,
Right knowing Lady.   Pal. She hath cur'd all well.
   Rut. And he hath fitted well the Complement.

Act I.    Scene VI.

To them.]            Sir Diaphanous, Practice.

Com. 
N
O, here they come! the prime Magnetick Guests
 Our Lady Loadstone so respects: the Artick!
And th' Antartick! Sir Diaphonous Silk-worm!
A Courtier extraordinary; who by diet
Of Meats and Drinks, his temperate Exercise,
Choice Musick, frequent Baths, his horary shifts
Of Shirts and Waste-coats, means to immortalize
Mortality it self, and makes the essence
Of his whole happiness the trim of Court.
   Dia. I thank you, Mr. Compass, for your short
Encomiastick.   Rut. It is much in little, Sir.
   Pal. Concise, and quick: the true stile of an Orator.
   Com. But Mr. Practice here, my Ladies Lawyer,
Or Man of Law: (for that's the true writing)
A Man so dedicate to his profession,
And the preferments go along with it;
As scarce the thund'ring brute of an Invasion,
Another eighty eight, threat'ning his Country
With ruin, would no more work upon him,
Than Syracusa's Sack, on Archimede:
So much he loves that Night-cap! the Bench-gown!
With the broad Guard o' th' back! These shew
A Man betroth'd unto the study of our Laws!
   Pra. Which you but think the crafty impositions,
Of subtile Clerks, feats of fine understanding,
To abuse Clots, and Clowns with, Mr. Compass,
Having no ground in nature to sustain it,
Or light, from those clear causes; to the inquiry
And search of which, your Mathematical Head
Hath so devow'd it self.   Com. Tut, all Men are
Philosophers, to their inches. There's within,
Sir Interest, as able a Philosopher,
In buying and selling! has reduc'd his thrift,
To certain principles, and i' that method!
As he will tell you instantly, by Logorythms,
The utmost profit of a stock imployed:
(Be the commodity what it will) the place,
Or         


           The Magnetick Lady. 491

Or time, but causing very, very little,
Or, I may say, no paralax at all,
In his pecuniary observations!
He has brought your Nieces Portion with him, Madam;
At least, the Man that must receive it: Here
They come negotiating the affair;
You may perceive the Contract in their Faces,
And read th' Indenture. If you'll sign 'em: So.

Act I.    Scene VII.

To them.]                            Interest, Bias.

Pal. 
W
Hat is he, Mr. Compass?   Com. A Vi-politick!
 Or a sub-aiding Instrument of State!
A kind of a laborious Secretary
To a great Man! (and likely to come on)
Full of attendance! and of such a stride
In business Politick, or Oeconomick,
As well his Lord may stoop t' advise with him,
And be prescribed by him in affairs
Of highest consequence, when he is dull'd,
Or wearied with the less.   Dia. 'Tis Mr. Bias,
Lord Whach'um's Politick.   Com. You know the Man?
   Dia. I ha' seen him wait at Court, there, with his Maniples
Of Papers and Petitions.   Pra. He is one
That over-rules, tho' by his authority
Of living there; and cares for no Man else:
Neglects the Sacred Letter of the Law;
And holds it all to be but a dead heap
Of civil Institutions: the rest only
Of common Men, and their causes, a Farrago,
Or a made dish in Court; a thing of nothing.
   Com. And that's your quarrel at him? a just plea.
   Int. I tell you, Sister Loadstone —   Com. (Hang your Ears
This way, and hear his Praises: now Moath opens.)
   Int. I ha' brought you here the very Man! the Jewel
Of all the Court! close Mr. Bias! Sister,
Apply him to your side! or you may wear him
Here o' your Breast! or hang him in your Ear!
He's a fit Pendant for a Ladies tip!
A Chrysolite, a Gem: the very Agate
Of State, and Polity: cut from the Quar
Of Machiavel, a true Cornelian,
As Tacitus himself! and to be made
The broach to any true State-cap in Europe!
   Lad. You praise him, Brother, as you had hope to sell
        him.
   Com. No, Madam, as he had hope to sell your Niece
Unto him.   Lad. 'Ware your true Jests, Mr. Compass;
They will not relish.   Int. I will tell you, Sister,
I cannot cry his Carract up enough:
He is unvaluable: All the Lords
Have him in that esteem, for his Relations,
Corrant's, Avises, Correspondences
With this Ambassador, and that Agent! He
Will screw you out a Secret from a Statist ——
   Com. So easie, as some Cobler worms a Dog.
   Int. And lock it in the Cabinet of his memory —
   Com. 'Till 't turn a politick Insect, or a Fly!
Thus long.   Int. You may be merry, Mr. Compass,
But though you have the reversion of an Office,
You are not in't, Sir.   Bia. Remember that.
   Com. Why should that fright me, Mr. Bi — , from telling
Whose ass you are?   Int. Sir, he's one, can do
His turns there: and deliver too his Letters,
As punctually, and in as good a fashion,
As ere a Secretary can in Court.
   Iro. Why, is it any matter in what fashion
A Man deliver his Letters, so he not open 'em?
   Bia. Yes, we have certain precedents in Court,
From which we never swerve, once in an Age:
And (whatsoe'er he thinks) I know the Arts,
And Sciences do not directlier make

[column break]

A Graduate in our Universities,
Than an habitual gravity prefers
A Man in Court.   Com. Which by the truer stile,
Some call a formal, flat servility.
   Bia. Sir, you may call it what you please: But we
(That tread the path of publick businesses)
Know what a tacit shrug is, or a shrink;
The wearing the Callot, the politick Hood,
And twenty other Parerga, o' the bie,
You Seculars understand not: I shall trick him,
If his Reversion come i' my Lords way.
   Dia. What is that, Mr. Practice? you sure know?
Mas' Compasses Reversion?   Pra. A fine place
(Surveyor of the Projects general)
I would I had it.   Pal. What is't worth?   Pra. O Sir,
A Nemo scit.   Lad. We'll think on't afore Dinner.


C H O R U S.

Boy. 
N
ow, Gentlemen, what censure you of our Protasis,
       or first Act?
   Pro. Well, Boy, it is a fair Presentment of your Actors.
And a handsome promise of somewhat to come hereafter.
   Dam. But, there is nothing done in it, or concluded:
Therefore I say, no Act.
   Boy. A fine piece of Logick! Do you look, Mr. Dam-
play, for conclusions in a Protasis? I thought the Law of
Comedy had reserv'd to the Catastrophe: and that the Epi-
tasis, (as we are taught) and the Catastasis, had been inter-
vening parts, to have been expected. But you would
have all come together it seems: The Clock should strike
five at once, with the Acts.
   Dam. Why, if it could do so, it were well, Boy.
   Boy. Yes, if the nature of a Clock were to speak, not
strike. So, if a Child could be born in a Play, and grow
up to a Man, i' the first Scene, before he went off the
Stage: and then after to come forth a Squire, and be made
a Knight: and that Knight to travel between the Acts,
and do wonders i' the Holy Land or elsewhere; kill
Paynims, wild Boars, dun Cows, and other Monsters; be-
get him a reputation, and marry an Emperours Daugh-
ter: for his Mrs. Convert her Fathers Country; and at
last come home, lame and all-to-be-laden with Miracles.
   Dam. These Miracles would please, I assure you: and
take the People! For there be of the People, that will ex-
pect Miracles, and more than Miracles from this Pen.
   Boy. Do they think this Pen can juggle? I would we
had Hokos pokos for 'em then; your People, or Travitanto
Tudesko.
   Dam. Who's that, Boy?
   Boy. Another Juggler, with a long name. Or that
your expecters would be gone hence, now, at the first
Act; or expect no more hereafter than they understand.
   Dam. Why so, my peremptory Jack?
   Boy. My name is John, indeed —— Because, who ex-
pect what is impossible, or beyond nature, defraud them-
selves.
   Pro. Nay, there the Boy said well: They do defraud
themselves indeed.
   Boy. And therefore, Mr. Damplay, unless like a solemn
Justice of wit, you will damn our Play, unheard, or
unexamin'd; I shall intreat your Mrs. Madam Expecta-
tion, if she be among these Ladies, to have patience, but
a pissing while: give our Springs leave to open a little,
by degrees: A Source of ridiculous matter may break
forth anon, that shall steep their Temples, and bathe
their Brains in laughter, to the fomenting of stupidity
it self, and the awaking any velvet Lethargy in the
House.
   Pro. Why do you maintain your Poets quarrel so
with Velvet, and good Clothes, Boy? we have seen him in
indifferent good Clothes, ere now.

R r r 2                                    Boy. And                      


492 The Magnetick Lady.               

   Boy. And may do in better, if it please the King
(his Master) to say Amen to it, and allow it, to whom
he acknowledgeth all. But his Clothes shall never be the
best thing about him, though; he will have somewhat
beside, either of humane Letters, or severe Honesty,
shall speak him a Man, though he went naked.
   Pro. He is beholden to you, if you can make this
good, Boy.
   Boy. Himself hath done that already, against Envy.
   Dam. What's your Name, Sir? or your Country?
   Boy. John Try-gust my Name: A Cornish Youth, and
the Poets Servant.
   Dam. West-country breed I thought, you were so
bold.
   Boy. Or rather sawcy; to find out your Palate,
Mr. Damplay. 'Faith we do call a Spade, a Spade in
Cornwal. If you dare damn our Play, i' the wrong
Place, we shall take heart to tell you so.
   Pro. Good Boy.


Act II.    Scene I.

Keep, Placentia, Pleasance.

K
Ee. Sweet Mistris, pray you be merry: you are sure
 To have a Husband now.   Pla. I, if the store
Hurt not the choice.   Ple. Store is no sore, young Mistris,
My Mother is wont to say.   Keep. And she'll say wisely
As any Mouth i' the Parish. Fix on one,
Fix upon one, good Mistris.   Pla. At this call too,
Here's Mr. Practise, who is call'd to the Bench
Of purpose.   Keep. Yes, and by my Ladies means —
   Ple. 'Tis thought to be the Man.   Keep. A Lawyers Wife.
   Ple. And a fine Lawyers Wife.   Keep. Is a brave Calling.
   Ple. Sweet Mistris Practise!   Keep. Gentle Mistris Practise!
   Ple. Fair, open Mistris Practise!   Keep. I, and close,
And cunning Mrs. Practise!   Pla. I not like that;
The Courtiers is the neater calling.   Ple. Yes,
My Lady Silk-worm.   Keep. And to shine in Plush.
   Ple. Like a young night Crow, a Diaphanous Silk-worm.
   Keep. Lady Diaphanous sounds most delicate!
   Ple. Which would you chose,chuse now Mistris?
   Pla. 'Cannot tell.
The Copy does confound one.   Ple. Here's my Mother.

Act II.    Scene II.

Polish, Keep, Placentia, Pleasance, Needle.

P
Ol. How now, my dainty Charge, and diligent Nurse?
 What were you chanting on? (God bless you Maiden.)
[To her Daughter kneeling.

   Keep. We were inchanting all; wishing a Husband
For my young Mistris here. A man to please her.
   Pol. She shall have a Man, good Nurse, and must
           have a Man:
A Man and a half, if we can choose him out:
We are all in CounselCouncil within, and sit about it:
The Doctors and the Scholars; and my Lady,
Who's wiser then all us — Where's Mr. Needle?
Her Ladiship so lacks him to prick out
The Man? How does my sweet young Mistris?
You look not well methinks! how do you, dear Charge?
You must have a Husband, and you shall have a Husband.
There's two put out to making for you: A Third
Your Uncle promises: But you must still
Be rul'd by your Aunt, according to the Will
Of your dead Father and Mother (who are in Heaven.)
Your Lady-Aunt has choise i' the House for you:
We do not trust your Uncle; he would keep you
A Batchelor still, by keeping of your Portion:
And keep you not alone without a Husband,
But in a sickness: I, and the Green-sickness,

[column break]

The Maidens Malady; which is a Sickness:
A kind of Disease, I can assure you,
And like the Fish our Mariners call Remora —
   Keep. A Remora Mistris!   Pol. How now Goody Nurse?
Dame Keep of Katerns? what? have you an Oar
I' the Cockboat, 'cause you are a Sailors Wife,
And come from Shawdell? I say a Remora:
For it will stay a Ship that's under sail!
And Stays are long and tedious things to Maids!
And Maidens are young Ships that would be sailing
When they be rigg'd: wherefore is all their trim else?
   Nee. True; and for them to be staid, —
   Pol. The stay is dangerous:
You know it Mr. Needle.   Nee. I know somewhat:
And can assure you, from the Doctors Mouth,
She has a Dropsie; and must change the Air,
Before she can recover.   Pol. Say you so, Sir?
   Nee. The Doctor says so.   Pol. Says his Worship so?
I warrent 'em he says true then; they sometimes
Are Sooth-sayers, and always cunning Men.
Which Doctor was it?   Nee. E'en my Ladies Doctor:
The neat House-Doctor: But a true Stone-Doctor.
   Pol. Why? hear you, Nurse? How comes this jeer
           to pass?
This is your fault in truth: It shall be your fault,
And must be your fault: why is your Mistris sick?
She had her health, the while she was with me.
   Kee. Alas good Mistris Polish, I am no Saint,
Much less, my Lady, to be urg'd give Health,
Or Sickness at my Will: but to wait
The Stars good Pleasure, and to do my duty.
   Pol. You must do more than your duty, foolish Nurse:
You must do all you can; and more than you can,
More than is possible; when Folks are sick,
Especially a Mistris, a young Mistris.
   Kee. Here's Mr. Doctor himself cannot do that.
   Pol. Doctor Do-all can do it. Thence he's call'd so.

Act II.    Scene III.

Rut, Polish, Lady, Keep, Placentia.

Rut. 
W
Hence? what's he call'd?
   Pol. Doctor, do all you can,
I pray you, and beseech you, for my charge here.
   Lad. She's my tendring Gossip, loves my Neice.
   Pol. I know you can do all things, what you please, Sir,
For a young Damsel, my good Ladies Neice here!
You can do what you list.   Rut. Peace Tiffany.
   Pol. Especially in this new Case o' the Dropsie.
The Gentlewoman (I do fear) is leven'd.
   Rut. Leven'd? what's that?
   Pol. Puft, blown, and't please your Worship.
   Rut. What! Dark by darker? What is blown?
          puff'd? speak English —
   Pol. Tainted (and't please you) some do call it.
She swells, and swells so with it. — Rut. Give her vent,
If she do swell. A Gimblet must be had:
It is a Tympanites she is troubled with;
There are three kinds: The first is Ana-sarca
Under the Flesh a Tumour: that's not hers.
The second is Ascites, or Aquosus,
A watry humour: that's not hers neither.
But Tympanites (which we call the Drum)
A wind Bombs in her Belly, must be unbrac'd,
And with a Faucet, or a Peg, let out,
And she'll do well: get her a Husband.   Pol. Yes,
I say so, Mr. Doctor, and betimes too.   Lad. As
Soon as we can: let her bear up to day,
Laugh, and keep company, at Gleek or Crimp.
   Pol. Your Ladiship says right, Crimp sure will cure her.
   Rut. Yes, and Gleek too; peace Gossip Tittle-Tattle,
She must to morrow down into the Country,
Some Twenty miles; A Coach and six brave Horses:
Take                  


           The Magnetick Lady. 493

Take the fresh Air a Month there, or five Weeks;
And then return a Bride up to the Town,
For any Husband i' the Hemisphere
To chuck at; when she has dropt her Timpany.
   Pol. Must she then drop it?
   Rut. Thence, 'tis call'd a Dropsie.
The Timpanites is one spice of it;
A Toy, a thing of nothing, a meer Vapour:
I'll blow't away.   Lad. Needle, get you the Coach
Ready against to morrow Morning.   Nee. Yes Madam.
   Lad. I'll down with her my self, and thank the Doctor.
   Pol. We all shall thank him. But, dear Madam, think,
Resolve upon a Man this day.   Lad. I ha' don't.done 't
To tell you true, (sweet Gossip) here is none
But Master Doctor, he shall be o' the Counsel:
The Man I have design'd her to, indeed,
Is Master Practise: he's a neat young Man,
Forward, and growing up in a profession!
Like to be some body, if the Hall stand!
And Pleading hold! A prime young Lawyers Wife,
Is a right happy Fortune.   Rut. And she bringing
So plentiful a Portion, they may live
Like King and Queen at Common Law together!
Sway Judges; guide the Courts; command the Clerks;
And fright the Evidence; rule at their Pleasures,
Like petty Soveraigns in all Cases.   Pol. O, that
Will be a work of time; she may be old
Before her Husband rise to a chief Judge;
And all her flower be gone. No, no, a Lady
O' the first Head I'd have her; and in Court:
The Lady Silk-worm, a Diaphanous Lady:
And be a Vi-countess to carry all
Before her, (as we say) her Gentleman-Usher:
And cast off Pages, bare, to bid her Aunt
Welcom unto her Honour at her Lodgings.
   Rut. You say well, Ladies Gossip; if my Lady
Could admit that, to have her Neice precede her.
   Lad. For that, I must consult mine own Ambition,
My zealous Gossip.   Pol. O, you shall precede her:
You shall be a Countess! Sir Diaphanous
Shall get you made a Countess! Here he comes;
Has my Voice certain: O fine Courtier!
O blessed man! the bravery prickt out,
To make my dainty charge a Vi-countess:
And my good Lady, her Aunt, Countess at large!

Act II.    Scene IV.

[To them.
                  Diaphanous, Palate.

Dia. 
I
 Tell thee, Parson, if I get her, reckon
 Thou hast a Friend in Court; and shalt command
A Thousand pound, to go on any Errand,
For any Church preferment thou hast a mind to.
   Pal. I Thank your Worship: I will so work for you,
As you shall study all the ways to thank me:
I'll work my Lady, and my Ladies Friends;
Her Gossip, and this Doctor, and Squire Needle,
And Mr. Compass, who is all in all;
The very Fly she moves by: He is one
That went to Sea with her Husband, Sir John Loadstone,
And brought home the rich Prizes: all that Wealth
Is left her: for which Service she respects him:
A dainty Scholar in the Mathematicks;
And one she wholly imploys. Now Dominus Practise
Is yet the man (appointed by her Ladiship)
But there's a trick to set his Cap awry,
If I know any thing: he hath confest
To me in private, that he loves another,
My Ladies Woman, Mrs. Pleasance: therefore
Secure you of Rivalship.   Dia. I thank thee,
My noble Parson: There's Five hundred pound
Waits on thee more for that.   Pol.Pal. Accost the Neice:
Yonder she walks alone: I'll move the Aunt:

[column break]

But here's the Gossip; she expects a morsel.
Ha' you ne'er a Ring, or Toy to throw away?
   Dia. Yes, here's a Diamond of some Threescore Pound
I pray you give her that.   Pal. If she will take it.
   Dia. And there's an Emerald for the Doctor too:
Thou Parson, thou shalt coin me: I am thine.
   Pal. Here Mr. Compass comes: Do you see my Lady,
And all the rest, how they do flutter about him?
He is the Oracle of the House and Family.
Now is your time: go nick it with the Neice:
I will walk by; and hearken how the Chimes go.

Act II.    Scene V.

[To them.
                   Compass.

Com. 
N
Ay, Parson, stand not off; you may approach:
 This is no such hid Point of State, we handle,
But you may hear it: for we are all of Counsel.
The gentle Mr. Practise hath dealt clearly,
And nobly with you, Madam.
   Lad. Ha' you talk'd with him?
And made the Overture?   Com. Yes, first I mov'd
The Business trusted to me by your Ladiship,
I' your own words, almost your very Syllables:
Save where my Memory trespass'd 'gainst their Elegance:
For which I hope your Pardon. Then I inlarg'd
In my own homely Stile, the special goodness
And greatness of your Bounty in your Choice,
And free conferring of a Benefit,
So without ends, conditions, any tye,
But his meer Vertue, and the value of it,
To call him to your Kindred, to your Veins,
Insert him in your Family, and to make him
A Nephew by the offer of a Neice,
With such a Portion; which when he had heard,
And most maturely acknowledg'd (as his Calling
Tends all unto maturity) he return'd
A Thanks as ample as the Curtesie,
(In my Opinion); said it was a Grace,
Too great to be rejected or accepted
By him! But as the Terms stood with his Fortune,
He was not to prevaricate with your Ladiship,
But rather to require ingenious leave,
He might with the same love that it was offer'd
Refuse it, since he could not with his honesty,
(Being he was ingag'd before) receive it.
   Pal. The same he said to me.   Com. And name the Party?
   Pal. He did, and he did not.
   Com. Come, leave your Schemes,
And fine Amphibolies, Parson.   Pal. You'll hear more.
   Pol. Why, now your Ladiship is free to chuse
The Courtier Sir Diaphanous: he shall do it,
I'll move it to him my self.
   Lad. What will you move to him?
   Pol. The making you a Countess.
   Lad. Stint, fond Woman.
Know you the Party Mr. Practise means?
[To Compass.

   Com. No, but your Parson says he knows, Madam.
   Lad. I fear he Fables; Parson, do you know
Where Mr. Practise is ingag'd?   Pal. I'll tell you!
But under seal, her Mother must not know:
'Tis with your Ladiships Woman, Mrs. Pleasance.
   Com. How!   Lad. He is not mad.
   Pal. O hide the hideous Secret
From her, she'll trouble all else. You do hold
A Cricket by the Wing.   Com. Did he name Pleasance?
Are you sure, Parson?   Lad. O 'tis true, your Mistris!
I find where your Shooe wrings you, Mr. Compass:
But, you'll look to him there.   Com. Yes, here's Sir Moath,
Your Brother, with his Bias, and the Party
Deep in discourse; 'twill be a Bargain and Sale,
I see by their close working of their Heads,
And             


494 The Magnetick Lady.               

And running them together so in Counsel.
   Lad. Will Mr. Practise be of Counsel against us?
   Com. He is a Lawyer, and must speak for his Fee,
Against his Father and Mother, all his Kindred;
His Brothers or his Sisters: no exception
Lies at the Common-Law. He must not alter
Nature for Form, but go on in his Path —
It may be he will be for us. Do not you
Offer to meddle, let them take their Course:
Dispatch, and marry her off to any Husband;
Be not you scrupulous; let who can have her:
So he lay down the Portion, though he geld it:
It will maintain the suit against him: somewhat,
Something in hand is better than no Birds;
He shall at last accompt for the utmost Farthing,
If you can keep your hand from a Discharge.
   Pol. Sir, do but make her Worshipful Aunt a Countess,
And she is yours: her Aunt has Worlds to leave you!
The Wealth of six East-Indian Fleets at least!
Her Husband, Sir John Loadstone, was the Governour
O' the Company seven years.   Dia. And came there home
Six Fleets in seven years?   Pol. I cannot tell,
I must attend my Gossip her good Ladiship.
   Pla. And will you make me a Vi-countess too? For,
How do they make a Countess? in a Chair?
Or 'pon a Bed?   Dia. Both ways, sweet Bird, I'll shew you.

Act II.    Scene VI.

Interest, Practise, Bias, Compass, Palate, Rut,
[To them.
                 Ironside.

Int. 
T
He truth is, Mr. Practise, now we are sure
 That you are off, we dare come on the bolder:
The Portion left was Sixteen thousand pound,
I do confess it, as a just man should.
And call here Mr. Compass, with these Gentlemen,
To the relation: I will still be just.
Now for the Profits every way arising,
It was the Donors Wisdom, those should pay
Me for my Watch, and breaking of my Sleeps;
It is no petty charge, you know that sum;
To keep a man awake for Fourteen year.
   Pra. But (as you knew to use it i' that time)
It would reward your waking.   Int. That's my Industry,
As it might be your Reading, Study and Counsel;
And now your Pleading, who denies it you?
I have my Calling too. Well, Sir, the Contract
Is with this Gentleman, Ten thousand pound.
(An ample Portion for a younger Brother,
With a soft, tender, delicate Rib of Mans Flesh,
That he may work like Wax, and print upon.)
He expects no more, than that sum to be tendred,
And he receive it: Those are the Conditions.
   Pra. A direct Bargain, and in open sale Market.'and sale in open Market.'
   Int. And what I have furnish'd him withal o' the by,
To appear, or so: A matter of Four hundred,
To be deduc'd upo' the payment. —   Bia. Right.
You deal like a just Man still.   Int. Draw up this,
Good Mr. Practise, for us, and be speedy.
   Pra. But here's a mighty gain, Sir, you have made
Of this one Stock! the Principal first doubled,
In the first Seven year; and that redoubled
I' the next Seven! beside Six thousand pound,
There's threescore thousand got in Fourteen year,
After the usual Rate of Ten i' the Hundred,
And the Ten thousand paid.   Int. I think it be!
   Pra. How will you scape the Clamour and the Envy?
   Int. Let 'em exclaim and envy; what care I?
Their Murmurs raise no Blisters i' my Flesh.
My Monies are my Blood, my Parents Kindred:
And he that loves not those, he is unnatural:
I am perswaded that the love of Money
Is not a Vertue, only in a Subject,

[column break]

But might befit a Prince. And (were there need)
I find me able to make good the Assertion,
To any reasonable mans Understanding;
And make him to confess it.   Com. Gentlemen,
Doctors, and Scholars, you'll hear this, and look for
As much true secular Wit, and deep Lay-sense,
As can be shown on such a common Place.
   Int. First, we all know the Soul of man is infinite
In what it covers. Who desireth knowledge,
Desires it infinitely. Who covets Honour,
Covets it infinitely: It will be then
No hard thing for a coveting man to prove,
Or to confess, he aims at infinite Wealth.
   Com. His Soul lying that way.   Int. Next, every man
Is i' the hope or possibility
Of a whole World: this present World being nothing,
But the dispersed Issue of first one:
And therefore I cannot see, but a just man
May with just reason, and in office ought
Propound unto himself.   Com. An infinite Wealth!
I'll bear the Burden: Go you on, Sir Moath.
   Int. Thirdly, if we consider man a Member
But of the Body Politick, we know,
By just Experience, that the Prince hath need
More of one Wealthy, than ten fighting Men.
   Com. There you went out o' the Road, a little from us.
   Int. And therefore, if the Princes aims be infinite,
It must be in that, which makes all.   Com. Infinite Wealth.
   Int. Fourthly, 'tis natural to all good Subjects,
To set a price on Money, more than Fools
Ought on their Mrs. Picture; every Piece
Fro' the Penny to the Twelve pence, being the Hierogliphick,
And sacred Sculpture of the Soveraign.
   Com. A manifest Conclusion, and a safe one.
   Int. Fifthly, Wealth gives a Man the leading Voice,
At all Conventions; and displaceth worth,
withWith general allowance to all Parties:
It makes a Trade to take the Wall of Vertue;
And the mere Issue of a Shop Right Honourable.
Sixthly, it doth inable him that hath it,
To the performance of all real Actions,
Referring him to himself still: and not binding
His Will to any Circumstance; without him;
It gives him precise knowledge of himself;
For, be he rich, he straight with evidence knows
Whether he have any compassion,
Or inclination unto Vertue, or no;
Where the poor Knave erroneously believes,
If he were rich, he would build Churches, or
Do such mad things. Seventhly, your wise poor Men
Have ever been contented to observe
Rich Fools, and so to serve their turns upon them:
Subjecting all their Wit to the others Wealth.
And become Gentlemen Parasites, Squire Bawds,
To feed their Patrons honourable Humours.
Eightly,Eighthly 'tis certain that a Man may leave
His Wealth, or to his Children, or his Friends;
His Wit he cannot so dispose by Legacy?
As they shall be a Harrington the better for't.
   Com. He may intail a Jest upon his House:
Or leave a Tale to his Posterity,
[Enter Ironside.

To be told after him.   Iro. As you have done here?
T'invite your Friend and Brother to a Feast,
Where all the Guests are so mere Heterogene,
And Strangers, no Man knows another, or cares
If they be Christians or Mahumetans!
That here are met.   Com. Is't any thing to you, Brother,
To know Religions more than those you fight for?
   Iro. Yes, and with whom I eat. I may dispute,
And how shall I hold Argument with such,
I neither know their Humours nor their Heresies;
Which are Religions now, and so receiv'd?
Here's no Man among these that keeps a Servant,
T'inquire          


           The Magnetick Lady. 495

To' inquire his Master of: yet i' the House,
I hear it buz'd there are a brace of Doctors,
A Fool, and a Physician; with a Courtier,
That feeds on Mulberry-leaves, like a true Silk-worm:
A Lawyer, and a mighty Money-Bawd,
Sir Moath! has brought his politick Bias with him:
A man of a most animadverting humour;
Who, to endear himself unto his Lord,
Will tell him, you and I, or any of us,
That here are met, are all pernciouspernicious Spirits,
And men of pestilent purpose, meanly affected
Unto the State we live in: and beget
Himself a thanks with the great men o' the time,
By breeding Jealousies in them of us,
Shall cross our Fortunes, frustrate our Endeavours,
Twice seven years after: And this trick be call'd
Cutting of Throats, with a whispering, or a Pen-knife.
I must cut his Throat now: I'am bound in Honour,
And by the Law of Arms, to see it done;
I dare to do it; and I dare profess
The doing of it: being to such a Rascal,
Who is the common offence grown of mankind,
And worthy to be torn up from society.
   Com. You shall not do it here, Sir.
   Iro. Why? will you
Intreat your self into a beating for him,
My courteous Brother? If you will, have at you,
No man deserves it better (now I think on't)
Than you: that will keep consort with such Fidlers,
Pragmatick Flies, Fools, Publicans, and Moaths:
And leave your honest and adopted Brother.
   Int. 'Best raise the House upon him, to secure us;
He'll kill us all!   Pal. I love no Blades in Belts.
   Rut. Nor I.   Bia. Would I were at my Shop again,
In Court, safe stow'd up, with my politick Bundels.
   Com. How they are scatter'd!   Iro. Run away like Cimici,
Into the cranies of a rotten Bed-stead.
   Com. I told you such a passage would disperse 'em,
Although the House were their Fee-simple in Law,
And they possest of all the blessings in it.
   Iro. Pray Heaven they be not frighted from their Stomachs:
That so my Ladies Table be disfurnish'd
Of the Provisions!   Com. No, the Parson's calling
By this time, all the Covey again, together.
Here comes good tydings! Dinner's o' the Board.

Act II.    Scene VII.

Compass, Pleasance.

Com. 
S
Tay, Mrs. Pleasance, I must ask you a question:
 Ha' you any Sutes in Law?   Ple. I, Mr. Compass?
   Com. Answer me briefly, it is dinner time.
They say you have retain'd brisk Mr. Practice
Here, of your Counsel; and are to be join'd
A Patentee with him.   Ple. In what? who says so?
You are dispos'd to jest.   Com. No, I am in earnest.
It is given out i' the House so, I assure you;
But keep your right to your self, and not acquaint
A common Lawyer with your Case. If he
Once find the gap; a thousand will leap after.
I'll tell you more anon.   Ple. This Riddle shews
A little like a Love-trick, o' one face,
If I could understand it. I will study it.

C H O R U S.

Dam. 
B
Ut whom doth your Poet mean now by this —
 Mr. Bias? what Lord's Secretary doth he pur-
pose to personate, or perstringe?
   Boy. You might as well ask me, what Alderman, or
Alderman's Mate, he meant by Sir Moath Interest? or
what eminent Lawyer, by the ridiculous Mr. Practice?
who hath rather his name invented for laughter, than

[column break]

any offence or injury it can stick on the reverend Pro-
fessors of the Law: And so the wise ones will think.
   Pro. It is an insiduous question, Brother Damplay!
Iniquity it self would not have urg'd it. It is picking
the Lock of the Scene, not opening it the fair way with
a Key. A Play, though it apparel, and present Vices in
general, flies from all particularities in Persons. Would
you ask of Plautus, and Terence, (if they both liv'd now)
who were Davus, or Pseudolus in the Scene? who Pyrgo-
polinices, or Thraso? who Euclio of Menedemus?
   Boy. Yes, he would: and inquire of Martial, or any
other Epigrammatist, whom he meant by Titius, or Sejus,
(the common John a Noke, or John a Stile) under whom
they note all Vices and Errors, taxable to the Times? As
if there could not be a name for a Folly fitted to the
Stage, but there must be a Person in nature found out to
own it.
   Dam. Why, I can phant'sie a Person to my self, Boy,
who shall hinder me?
   Boy. And in not publishing him, you do no man an
injury. But if you will utter your own ill meaning on
that Person, under the Author's words, you make a Li-
bel of his Comedy.
   Dam. O, he told us that in a Prologue, long since.
   Boy. If you do the same reprehensible ill things, still
the same reprehension will serve you, though you heard
it afore: They are his own words: I can invent no bet-
ter, nor he.
   Pro. It is the solemn vice of interpretation, that de-
forms the Figure of many a fair Scene, by drawing it
awry; and, indeed, is the civil murder of most good
Plays: If I see a thing vively presented on the Stage, that
the Glass of custom (which is Comedy) is so held up to
me by the Poet, as I can therein view the daily examples
of Mens lives, and magesimages of truth, in their Manners, so
drawn for my delight, or profit, as I may (either way)
use them: and will I, rather (than make that true use)
hunt out the Persons to defame, by my malice of misap-
plying? and imperil the innocence and candor of the Au-
thor, by his calumny? It is an unjust way of hearing and
beholding Plays, this, and most unbecoming a Gentleman
to appear malignantly witty in anothers Work.
   Boy. They are no other but narrow, and shrunk na-
tures, shrivel'd up, poor things, that cannot think well of
themselves, who dare to detract others. That Signature
is upon them, and it will last. A half-witted Barbarism!
which no Barbers Art, or his Balls, will ever expunge or
take out.
   Dam. Why, Boy? This were a strange Empire, or ra-
ther a Tyranny, you would entitle your Poet to, over
Gentlemen, that they should come to hear, and see
Plays, and say nothing for their Money.
   Boy. O, yes, say what you will; so it be to purpose
and in place.
   Dam. Can any thing be out of purpose at a Play? I,
see no reason, if I come here, and give my eighteen
Pence, or two Shillings for my Seat, but I should take it
out in censure, on the Stage.
   Boy. Your two Shilling worth is allow'd you: but you
will take your ten Shilling worth, your twenty Shilling
worth, and more: And teach others (about you) to do
the like, that follow your leading Face; as if you were
to cry up or down every Scene by confederacy, be it
right or wrong.
   Dam. Who should teach us the right, or wrong at a Play?
   Boy. If your own Science cannot do it, or the love of
Modesty, and Truth; all other intreaties, or attempts —
are vain. You are fitter Spectators for the Bears, than
us, or the Puppets. This is a popular ignorance indeed,
somewhat better apparel'd in you, than the People: but
a hard-handed, and stiff ignorance, worthy a Trewel, or
a Hammer-man; and not only fit to be scorn'd, but to
be triumph'd ore.o're   Dam. By whom, Boy?

Boy. No             


496 The Magnetick Lady.               

   Boy. No particular, but the general neglect, and si-
lence. Good Master Damplay, be your self still, without
a second: few here are of your opinion to day, I hope;
to morrow, I am sure there will be none, when they
have ruminated this.
   Pro. Let us mind what you come for, the Play, which
will draw on to the Epitasis now.


Act III.    Scene I.

Item, Needle, Keep, Pleasance.

Item. 
W
Here's Mr. Doctor?   Nee. O, Mr. Tim Item,
 His learned 'Pothecary! you are welcome:
He is within at Dinner.   Item. Dinner! Death!
That he will eat now, having such a business,
That so concerns him!   Nee. Why, can any business
Concern a man like his Meat?   Ite. O twenty Millions,
To a Physician that's in practice: I
Do bring him news, from all the Points o' the Compass,
(That's all the parts of the sublunary Globe)
Of times, and double times.   Nee. In, in, sweet Item,
And furnish forth the Table with your news:
Deserve your Dinner: Sow out your whole Bag full:
The Guests will hear it.   Ite. I heard they were out.
   Nee. But they are piec'd, and put together again;
You may go in, you'll find them at high eating:
The Parson has an edifying Stomach,
And a persuading Palate (like his name:)
He hath begun three draughts of Sack in Doctrines,
And four in Uses.   Ite. And they follow him.
   Nee. No, Sir Diaphanous is a Recusant
In Sack. He only takes it in French Wine,
With an allay of Water. In, in, Item,
And leave your peeping.   Keep. I have a months mind,
To peep a little too. Sweet, Mas' Needle,
How are they set?   Nee. At the Boards-end, my Lady —
Keep.speech prefix, line should be indented And my young Mrs. by her?   Nee. Yes, the Parson
On the right-hand (as he'll not lose his place
For thrusting) and 'gainst him Mrs. Polish:
Next, Sir Diaphanous, against Sir Moath;
Knights, one again another: then the Soldier,
The man of War; and man of Peace, the Lawyer:
Then the pert Doctor, and the politick Bias,
And Mr. Compass circumscribeth all.
[A noise within.
   Ple. Nurse Keep, nurse Keep!
   Nee. What noise is that within?
   Ple. Come to my Mistriss, all their Weapons are out.
   Nee. Mischief of men! what day, what hour is this?
   Keep. Run for the Cellar of Strong-waters, quickly.

Act III.    Scene II.

To them after.]               Compass, Ironside.

Com. 
W
Ere you a Mad-man to do this at Table?
 And trouble all the Guests, to affright the
                    Ladies,
And Gentlewomen?   Iro. Pox upo' your Women,
And your half-man there, Court-Sir Amber-gris:
A perfum'd Braggart: He must drink his Wine
With three parts Water; and have Amber in that too.
   Com. And you must therefore break his Face with a
          Glass,
And wash his Nose in Wine.   Iro. Cannot he drink
In Orthodox, but he must have his Gums,
And Panym Drugs?
   Com. You should have us'd the Glass
Rather as Balance, than the Sword of Justice:
But you have cut his Face with it, he bleeds.
Come you shall take your Sanctuary with me;
The whole house will be up in Arms 'gainst you else,
Within this half hour: this way to my Lodging.

[column break]

Rut, Lady, Polish, Keep carrying Placentia over the Stage.

Pleasance, Item.

   Rut. A most rude action! carry her to her Bed;
And use the Fricace to her, with those Oils.
Keep your news, Item, now, and tend this business.
   Lad. Good Gossip look to her.
   Pol. How do you, sweet charge?
   Keep. She's in a sweat.   Pol. I, and a faint sweat marry.
   Rut. Let her alone to Tim: he has directions,
I'll hear your news Tim Item, when you ha' done.
   Lad. Was ever such a Guest brought to my Table?
   Rut. These boistrous Soldiers ha' no better breeding.
Here Mr. Compass comes: where's your Captain,
Rudhudibras de Ironside?   Com. Gone out of Doors.
   Lad. Would he had ne'er come in them, I may wish.
He has discredited my House, and Board,
With his rude swaggering manners, and endanger'd
My Nieces Health (by drawing of his Weapon)
God knows how far; for Mr. Doctor does not.
   Com. The Doctor is an Ass then, if he say so,
And cannot with his conjuring names, Hippocrates,
Galen, or Rasis, Avicen, Averroes,
Cure a poor Wenches falling in a swoon:
Which a poor Farthing chang'd in Rosa solis,
Or Cynnamon-water would.   Lad. How now? how does she?
   Keep. She's somewhat better.
   Mr. Item has brought her
A little about.   Pol. But there's Sir Moath, your Brother,
Is fall'n into a fit o' the Happyplex,
It were a happy place for him, and us,
If he could steal to Heaven thus: All the House
Are calling Mr. Doctor, Mr. Doctor.
The Parson he has gi'n him gone, this half hour;
He's pale in the Mouth already, for the fear
O' the fierce Captain.   Lad. Help me to my Chamber,
Nurse Keep: would I could see the day no more,
But night hung over me, like some dark Cloud;
That, buried with this loss of my good name,
I, and my House might perish, thus forgotten —
   Com. Her taking it to heart thus, more afflicts me
Than all these accidents, for they'll blow over.

Act III.    Scene III.

Practice, Silk-worm, Compass.

Pra. 
I
T was a barbarous injury, I confess:
 But if you will be counsell'd, Sir, by me,
The reverend Law lies open to repair
Your Reputation. That will gi' you damages;
Five thousand Pound for a Finger, I have known
Given in Court: and let me pack your Jury.
   Silk. There's nothing vexes me, but that he has stain'd
My new white Sattin Doublet; and bespatter'd
My spick and span Silk-stockings, o' the day
They were drawn on: and here's a spot i' my Hose too.
   Com. Shrewd maims! your Clothes are wounded de-
          sperately,
And that (I think) troubles a Courtier more,
An exact Courtier, than a gash in his Flesh.
   Silk. My Flesh? I swear had he giv'n me twice so
          much,
I never should ha' reckon'd it. But my Clothes
To be defac'd, and stigmatiz'd so foully!
I take it as a contumely done me
Above the wisdom of our Laws to right.
   Com. Why, then you'll challenge him?
   Silk. I will advise,
Though Mr. Practice here doth urge the Law;
And reputation it will make me of credit,
Beside great damages. (Let him pack my Jury.)
Com. He                           


           The Magnetick Lady. 497

   Com. He speaks like Mr. Practice, one that is
The Child of a Profession he's vow'd to,
And servant to the study he hath taken,
A pure Apprentice at Law! But you must have
The Counsel o' the Sword; and square your action
Unto their Canons, and that Brother-hood,
If you do right.   Pra. I tell you, Mr. Compass,
You speak not like a Friend unto the Laws,
Nor scarce a subject, to perswade him thus,
Unto the breach o' the Peace: Sir you forget
There is a Court above, of the Star-Chamber,
To punish Routs and Riots.   Com. No, young Master,
Although your name be Practice there in Term-time,
I do remember it. But you'll not hear
What I was bound to say; but like a wild
Young haggard Justice, fly at breach o' the Peace,
Before you know whether the amorous Knight
Dares break the Peace of Conscience in a Duel.
   Silk. Troth, Mr. Compass, I take you my Friend;
You shall appoint of me in any matter
That's reasonable, so we may meet fair,
On even terms.   Com. I shall perswade no other,
(And take your learned Counsel to advise you)
I'll run along with him. You say you'll meet him
On even terms. I do not see indeed
How that can be, 'twixt Ironside and you,
Now I consider it. He is my Brother.
I do confess (we ha' call'd so twenty year:)
But you are, Sir, a Knight in Court, allied there,
And so befriended, you may easily answer
The worst success: He a known, noted, bold
Boy o' the Sword, hath all Mens Eyes upon him;
And there's no London-Jury, but are led
In Evidence, as far by common Fame,
As they are by present Deposition.
Then you have many Brethren, and near Kinsmen.
If he kill you, it will be a lasting quarrel
'Twixt them, and him. Whereas Rud. Ironside,
Although he ha' got his Head into a Beaver,
With a huge Feather, 's but a Corriers Son,
And has not two old Cordov'an Skins to leave
In Leather Caps to mourn him in, if he die.
Again, you are generally belov'd, he hated
So much, that all the Hearts, and Votes of Men
Go with you, in the wishing all prosperity
Unto your purpose: he's a fat, corpulent,
Unwieldy Fellow: you, a dieted Spark,
Fit for the Combat. He has kill'd so many,
As it is ten to one his turn is next;
You never fought with any; less, slew any:
And therefore have the hopes before you.
I hope these things thus specified unto you,
Are fair advantages: you cannot encounter
Him upon equal terms. Beside, Sir Silk-worm,
He hath done you wrong in a most high degree:
And sense of such an injury receiv'd,
Should so exacuate, and wetwhet your Choler,
As you should count your self an Host of Men,
Compar'd to him. And therefore you, Brave Sir,
Have no more reason to provoke, or challenge
Him, than the huge great Porter has to try
His strength upon an Infant.   Silk. Mr. Compass,
You rather spur me on, than any way
Abate my Courage to the Enterprise.
   Com. All Counsel's as it's taken. If you stand
On point of Honour, not t' have any odds,
I have rather then dissuaded you, than otherwise:
If upon terms of humour and revenge,
I have encourag'd you. So that I think,
I have done the part of a Friend on either side:
In furnishing your fear with matter first,
If you have any: Or, if you dare fight,
To heighten, and confirm your resolution.
   Pra. I now do crave your pardon, Mr. Compass:

[column break]

I did not apprehend your way before,
The true Perimiter of it: you have Circles,
And such fine Draughts about!   Silk. Sir, I do thank you,
I thank you, Mr. Compass, heartily;
I must confess, I never fought before,
And I'll be glad to do things orderly,
In the right place: I pray you instruct me.
Is't best I fight ambitiously, or maliciously?
   Com. Sir, if you never fought before, be wary,
Trust not your self too much.   Silk. Why? I assure you,
I'm very angry.   Com. Do not suffer, though,
The flatuous, windy Choler of your Heart,
To move the Clapper of your Understanding,
Which is the guiding faculty, your Reason:
You know not, if you'll fight, or no, being brought
Upo' the place.   Silk. O yes, I have imagin'd
Him treble arm'd, provok'd too, and as furious
As Homer makes Achilles; and I find
My self not frighted with his Fame one jot.
   Com. Well, yet take heed. These fights imaginary,
Are less than skirmishes; the fight of Shadows:
For Shadows have their figure, motion,
And their umbratil action from the real
Posture, and motion of the Bodies act:
Whereas (imaginarily) many times,
Those Men may fight, dare scarce eye one another,
And much less meet. But if there be no help,
Faith I would wish you, send him a fair Challenge.
   Silk. I will go pen it presently.   Com. But word it
In the most generous terms.   Silk. Let me alone.
   Pra. And silken Phrase: the courtliest kind of quarrel.
   Com. He'll make it a Petition for his Peace.
   Pra. O, yes, of right, and he may do it by Law.

Act III.    Scene IV.

Rut, Palate, Bias, bringing out Interest in a Chair: Item,
Polish following.

Rut. 
C
Ome, bring him out into the Air a little:
 There set him down. Bow him, yet bow him more,
Dash that same Glass of Water in his Face:
Now tweak him by the Nose. Hard, harder yet:
If it but call the Blood up from the Heart,
I ask no more. See, what a fear can do!
Pinch him in the Nape of the Neck now; nip him, nip him.
   Ite. He feels, there's life in him.
   Pal. He groans, and stirs.
   Rut. Tell him the Captain's gone.
   Int. Ha!   Pal. He's gone, Sir.
   Rut. Gi' him a box, hard, hard, on his left Ear.
   Int. O!   Rut. How do you feel your self?
   Int. Sore, sore.
   Rut. But where?
   Int. I' my Neck.   Rut. I nipt him there.   Int. And i' my Head.
   Rut. I box'd him twice, or thrice, to move those Sinews.
   Bia. I swear you did.   Pol. What a brave Man's a Doctor,
To beat one into Health! I thought his blows
Would e'en ha' kill'd him: he did feel no more
Than a great Horse.   Int. Is the wild Captain gone?
That Man of murther?   Bia. All is calm and quiet.
   Int. Say you so, Cousen Bias? Then all's well.
   Pal. How quickly a Man is lost!   Bia. And soon recover'd!
   Pol. Where there are means, and Doctors, learned Men,
And their Apothecaries, who are not now,
(As Chawcer says) their friendship to begin.
Well, could they teach each other how to win
I'their swath Bands —   Rut. Leave your Poetry, good Gossip.
Your Chawcer's Clouts, and wash your Dishes with 'em,
We must rub up the Roots of his Disease,
And crave your peace awhile, or else your absence.
   Pol. Nay, I know when to hold my peace.   Rut. Then do it.
Gi' me your Hand, Sir Moath. Let's feel your Pulse.
It is a pursiness, a kind of stoppage,
S s s                                               Or                


498 The Magnetick Lady.               

Or tumour o' the Purse, for want of exercise,
That you are troubled with: some ligatures
I'th neck of your Vesica, or Marsupium,
Are so close knit, that you cannot evaporate:
And therefore you must use relaxatives.
Beside, they say, you are so restive grown,
You cannot but with trouble put your Hand
Into your Pocket, to discharge a Reckoning.
And this we Sons of Physick do call Chiragra,
A kind of Cramp, or Hand-Gout. You shall purge for't.
   Ite. Indeed your Worship should do well t' advise him
To cleanse his Body, all the three high-ways;
That is, by Sweat, Purge, and Phlebotomy.
   Rut. You say well, learned Tim, I'll first prescribe him,
To give his Purse a purge once, twice a week
At Dice, or Cards: And when the weather is open,
Sweat at a Bowling-Alley: or be let Blood
I' the lending Vein, and bleed a matter of fifty,
Or threescore Ounces at a time. Then put
Your Thumbs under your Girdle, and have some body
Else pull out your Purse for you, till with more ease,
And a good habit, you can do it your self.
And then be sure always to keep good Diet;
And h' your Table furnish'd from one end
Unto tother: It is good for the Eyes;
But feed you on one dish still, ha' your Diet-drink
Ever in Bottles ready, which must come
From the King's-head: I will prescribe you nothing,
But what I'll take before you mine own self:
That is my course with all my Patients.
   Pal. Very methodical, Secundùm Artem.
   Bia. And very safe pro captu recipientis.
   Pol. All errant learned Men, how they 'spute Latin!
   Rut. I had it of a Jew, and a great Rabbi,
Who every morning cast his Cup of White-wine
With Sugar, and by the residence i' the bottom,
Would make report of any Chronick malady,
Such as Sir Moath's is, being an oppilation,
In that you call the Neck o' the Money-bladder,
[Enter Nurse.
Most anatomical, and by dissection.
   Keep. O, Mr. Doctor, and his 'Pothecary!
Good Mr. Item, and my Mistriss Polish!
We need you all above! She's fall'n again,
In a worse fit than ever.   Pol. Who?   Keep. Your charge.
   Pol. Come away Gentlemen.
   Int. This fit with the Doctor,
Hath mended me past expectation.

Act III.    Scene V.

Compass, Diaphanous, Practice, Bias, Ironside.

Com. 
O
 Sir Diaphanous, ha' you done?
   Dia. I ha' brought it.
   Pra. That's well.   Com. But who shall carry it now?
   Dia. A Friend:
I'll find a Friend to carry it; Mr. Bias here
Will not deny me that.   Bia. What is't?   Dia. To carry
A Challenge I have writ unto the Captain.
   Bias. Faith, but I will, Sir, you shall pardon me
For a twi-reason of State: I'll bear no Challenges;
I will not hazard my Lord's favour so;
Or forfeit mine own judgment with his Honour,
To turn a Ruffian: I have to commend me
Nought but his Lordships good opinion;
And to't my Kallygraphy, a fair Hand,
Fit for a Secretary: Now you know, a Man's Hand
Being his executing part in fight,
Is more obnoxious to the common peril —
   Dia. You shall not fight, Sir, you shall only search
My Antagonist; commit us fairly there
Upo' the Ground on equal terms.   Bia. O, Sir!
But if my Lord should hear I stood at end
Of any quarrel, 'twere an end of me

[column break]

In a state course! I ha' read the Politicks;
And heard th' opinions of our best Divines.
   Com. The Gentleman has reason! Where was first
The birth of your acquaintance? or the Cradle
Of your strict friendship made?   Dia. We met in France, Sir.
   Com. In France! that Garden of humanity,
The very Seed-plot of all courtesies:
I wonder that your friendship suck'd that Aliment,
The Milk of France; and see this sowre effect
It doth produce, 'gainst all the sweets of travel:
There, every Gentleman professing Arms,
Thinks he is bound in Honour to imbrace
The bearing of a Challenge for another,
Without or questioning the cause, or asking
Least colour of a reason. There's no Cowardice,
No Poultrounery, like urging why? wherefore?
But carry a Challenge, die, and do the thing.
   Bia. Why, hear you, Mr. Compass, I but crave
Your Ear in private? I would carry his Challenge,
If I but hop'd your Captain angry enough
To kill him: For (to tell you truth) this Knight,
Is an impertinent in Court, (we think him:)
And troubles my Lord's Lodgings, and his Table
With frequent, and unnecessary visits,
Which we (the better sort of Servants) like not:
Being his Fellows in all other places,
But at our Master's board; and we disdain
To do those servile offices, oft-times,
His foolish Pride, and Empire will exact,
Against the heart, or humour of a Gentleman.
   Com. Truth, Mr. Bias, I'd not ha' you think
I speak to flatter you: but you are one
O' the deepest Politicks I ever met,
And the most subtilly rational. I admire you.
But do not you conceive in such a case,
That you are accessory to his death,
From whom you carry a Challenge with such purpose.
   Bia. Sir, the corruption of one thing in nature,
Is held the Generation of another;
And therefore, I had as lieve be accessory
Unto his death, as to his life.   Com. A new
Moral Philosophy too! you'll carry 't then.
   Bia. If I were sure 't would not incense his choler
To beat the Messenger.   Com. O' I'll secure you,
You shall deliver it in my Lodging, safely,
And do your Friend a service worthy thanks.
   Bia. I'll venture it, upon so good Induction,
To rid the Court of an Impediment,
[Enter Ironside.
This baggage Knight.
   Iro. Peace to you all, Gentlemen,
Save to this Mushroom; who I hear is menacing
Me with a Challenge: which I come to anticipate,
And save the Law a labour. Will you fight, Sir?
   Dia. Yes, in my Shirt.   Iro. O, that's to save your Doublet;
I know it a Court-trick! you had rather have
An Ulcer in your Body, than a Pink
More i' your Clothes.   Dia. Captain, you are a Coward,
If you'll not fight i' your Shirt.   Iro. Sir, I do not mean
To put it off for that, nor yet my Doublet:
Yo' have cause to call me Coward, that more fear
The stroke of the common, and life-giving Air,
Than all your Fury, and the Panoply.
   Pra. (Which is at best, but a thin Linnen Armour.)
I think a Cup of generous Wine were better,
Than fighting i' your Shirts.   Dia. Sir, Sir, my Valour,
It is a Valour of another nature,
Than to be mended by a Cup of Wine.
   Com. I should be glad to hear of any Valours,
Differing in kind; who have known hitherto,
Only one Vertue, they call Fortitude,
Worthy the name of Valour.   Iro. Which, who hath not,
Is justly thought a Coward: And he is such.
   Dia. O, you ha' read the Play there, the New Inn,
Of Johnson's, that decries all other Valour
But              


           The MagnifickMagnetick Lady. 499

But what is for the publick.   Iro. I do that too,
But did not learn it there; I think no valour
Lies for a private cause.   Dia. Sir, I'll redargue you,
By disputation.   Com. O let's hear this!
I long to hear a Man dispute in his Shirt
Of Valour, and his Sword drawn in his Hand.
   Pra. His Valour will take cold; put on your Doublet.
   Com. His Valour will keep cold, you are deceiv'd;
And relish much the sweeter in our Ears:
It may be too, i' the ordinance of nature.
Their Valours are not yet so combatant,
Or truly antagonistick, as to fight;
But may admit to hear of some divisions,
Of Fortitude, may put 'em off their quarrel.
   Dia. I would have no Man think me so ungovern'd,
Or subject to my passion, but I can
Read him a Lecture 'twixt my undertakings,
And executions: I do know all kinds
Of doing the business, which the Town calls Valour.
   Com. Yes, he has read the Town, Town-top's his Author!
Your first?   Dia. Is a rash head-long unexperience.
   Com. Which is in Children, Fools, or your Street-Gallants
O' the first head.   Pra. A pretty kind of Valour!
   Com. Commend him, he will spin it out in's Shirt,
Fine, as that Thread.   Dia. The next, an indiscreet
Presumption, grounded upon often scapes.
   Com. Or th' insufficiency of Adversaries:
And this is in your common fighting Brothers.
Your old Perdu's, who (after a time) do think,
The one, that they are Shot-free; the other Sword-free,
Your third?   Dia. Is nought but an excess of choller,
That reigns in testy old Men — Com. Noble Mens Porters,
And self-conceited Poets.   Dia. And is rather
A peevishness, than any part of Valour.
   Pra. He but rehearses, he concludes no Valour.
   Com. A history of Distempers, as they are practis'd,
His Harangue undertaketh, and no more.
Your next?   Dia. Is a dull desperate resolving.
   Com. In case of some necessitous misery, or
Incumbent mischief.   Pra. Narrowness of Mind,
Or Ignorance being the root of it.
   Dia. Which thou shalt find in Gamesters, quite blown up.
   Com. Bankrupt Merchants, undiscovered Traytors.
   Pra. Or your exemplified Malefactors,
That have surviv'd their infamy, and punishment.
   Com. One that hath lost his Ears, by a just sentence
O' the Star-Chamber, a right valiant Knave ——
And is a Histrionical contempt,
Of what a Man fears most; it being a mischief
In his own apprehension unavoidable.
   Pra. Which is in Cowards wounded mortally,
Or Thieves adjudg'd to die.   Com. This is a Valour,
I should desire much to see incourag'd:
As being a special entertainment
For our rogue People; and make oft good sport
Unto 'em, from the Gallows to the Ground.
   Dia. But mine is a judicial resolving,
Or liberal undertaking of a danger. —
   Com. That might be avoided.   Dia. I, and with assurance,
That it is found in Noble-men, and Gentlemen,
Of the best sheaf.   Com. Who having Lives to lose,
Like private Men, have yet a world of Honour,
And publick Reputation to defend. —
   Dia. Which in the brave historified Greeks,
And Romans you shall read of.   Com. And (no doubt)
May in our Alder-men meet it, and their Deputies,
The Soldiers of the City, valiant Blades,
Who (