PHANTASTES

Sirrah Boy He resi boy how now biting your nails? This is as much as to make a new hell in the upper world, for in Hell they say Alexander is no better that n a Cob ler, and now by these translations every Cobbler is as familiar with Alexander as he that wrote his life. Pose us all? and I here; that were a jest indeed: My Lord, if he have a Sphinx, I have and Oedipus assure your self, lets hear it once again. This such a knotty Enigma? why my Lord, I think it's a Woman, for first a Woman is nothing of her self, and a gain she is likest a man of any thing. My Lord, 'tis so indeed, Sirrah lets see it, for do you see my right eye here? That's a matter of nothing, I have known many have such bedchambers. Visus, I wonder that amongst all your objects, you presented us not with Plato's Idea, or the sighed of Nineveh, Babt lon, London, or some Sturbridge fair-monsters, they would have done passing well, those motions in my imagination are very delightful. Let him alone, his musical head is always full of odd rotchets. It may be good, but in my opinion, they rest too long in the beginning. List how my heart envies my happy ears, hisht, by the gold strung harp of Apollo, I hear the celestial music of the spheres, as plainly as ever Pithagoras did, Oh most excel lent diapason good, good, good, It plays fortune my oe, as dis tinctly as may be. What, the Laualta hay? nay if the heavens fiddle, Fancy must needs dance. In my conceit Linguam, you should seal up your lips, when you go to bed, these Feminine tongues be so glib. I pray you my Lord add this to the judgement that whensoever she obtaineth licence to walk abroad, in token the Tongue was the cause of her offence, let her wear a velvet hood, made joust in the fashion of a great Tongue, in my conceit it's a very pretty Emblem of a Woman, Some great matters questionless, what were they? Thou dost well to meditate on these three things at once for that isle be found out altogether, and gram case calendas, but let them pass and carry the conceit, I told you this morning to the party you wot of. In my imagination 'tis Capricious, will take I warrant thee. Oh I think thou meanest him that made 19. sonnets of his mistress Busk-point; Some netling stuff i'faith; let him write thus Most heart commanding faced Gentlewoman, ven as the stone in India called Basaliscus, hurts all that looks on it: and as the Serpent in Arabia called Smaragdu delights the sighed, so does thy celestial orb assimilating eyes, both please, and in pleasing wound my love-darted heart. Had you stayed a little longer 'twould have been stark rot ̄ . Jupiter, Jupiter, I had thought these Flies had bit none but my self, do Critics tickle you i'faith? By your leave Memory you are not alone troubled, Chronologers many of them are so so Fantastic, as when they bring a Captain to the Combat, lifting up his revengeful arm to dispart the head of his enemy, they'le hold up his arms so long till they have bestowed three or four pages in describing the gold hilts of his threating Falchion. So that in my Fancy the reader may well wonder his adversary stabs him not, before he strikes, moreover they are become most palpable flatterers always begging at my gates for Invention. But not till our backs break, lord there was never any so haunted as I am, this Dam e there comes a Sophister to my house, knocks at my door, his errand being asked, forsooth his and swear was to borrow a fair suit of conceits out of my war drop, to apparraile a show he had in hand, and what think you is the plot? Meanwhile he's somewhat acquainted with you, for he's bold to bring your person upon the stage. Yes you and you, and my self with all my Phantisticall tricks and humours but I trow I have fitted him with Fooleries I trust heel never trouble me again. Think what you will of it, I think it's done, and I think it is acting by this time; would ke would ke, what drummings yonder, I'll say my life they are come to present the show I spoke off. Yes, yes stand still. What Apothecary durst be so bold as make such a con fection: would what poison is't? But here you Madam, I pray you let your Pages tongue walk with us a little, till you return again. Hight youths I protest, saw you those warlike preparations? I promise you a fearful troop of Soldiers. Who akes Tactus his part? In my foolish imagination Olfactus is very Like the God desk of victory that never takes any partly but the Conquerors. I conjecture he intends to see he ight and after the ba tail to feed his Dogs, Hogs and Vultures upon the murdered cases. What blue thing's that, that's dappled so with Stars. In my conceit it were pretty, if he thundered when he speaks. How now Visus is your heaven at a stay? Or is it his Motus trepidationis that makes him stammer: I pray you Memory set him ag e again. Nay rather it seems he's of Copernicus opinion, and that makes him stand still. You know Memory that was and extreme hot day, & it's likely Terra sweat much, and so took cold presently after, that ever since she hath lost her voice. I know this fellow of old, it's a Herald, many a Cen taure, Chimera, Barnacle, Crocodile, Hippotame, and such Like toys, hath he stolen out of the shop of my Invention, to shape new coats for his upstarted Gentlemen. Either Africa must breed more monsters, or you make fewer Gentlemen M. He rauld, for you have spent all my devises already, but since you are here, let me ask you a question, in your own profession, how comes it to pass e that the victorious Arms of England, quartered with the conquered Coat of France are not placed on the dexter side, but give the flower deluce the better hand? By the lip of my-I could live and die with this face. Fie, fie Gustus this is a great indecorum to bring Bac chus alone, you should have made Thirst ed him by the hand. I but I did not give you a box on the are sirrah 49000. years ago, did I? (snap) By Jupiters cloven pate 'tis true. But we witty fellows are so forgetful, but stay, hu, hu, carry him this. The gordian knot which Alexander great, Did whilom cut with his all conquering sword: Was nothing Like thy Busk-point pretty Peat, Nor could so fair and a gury afford. Then to conclude let him pervert Catullus his zonam solvit dium ligatam thus, thus. Which if I cham nce to cut or else untie, Thy little world I'll conquer presently. 'Tis pretty, pretty, tell him it extemporal, Pish any thing Love will minister Ink for the rest, He that once begun well, hath half done, let him begin again and there's all. A fashion for his suit—let him button it down the sleeve with four elbows, and so make it the pure heiroglyphick of a fool. What's that Boy? by this fair hand thou shalt have I . Ah Boy in my conceit it's a herd matter to perform, these women have well nigh tired me, with devising tires for them, and ferme at and non plus for new sets, their heads are so light, & their eyes so coy, that I know not how to please them. If her face be nought, in my opinion, the more view it, the worse, bid her wear the mu titude of her deformities under a mask, till my leisure will serve to devise some durable, and unstained blush of painting. Away then, hie thee again, meet me at the Court within this hour at the farthest. Exit Heuresis. O heavens, how have I been troubled these latter times with Women, Fools, Babes, Tailors, Poets, Swaggerers, Gulls, Ballad makers, they have almost disrobed me of all the toys and tri fles I can devise, were it not that I pity the poor multitude of Printers, these Sonnet-mungers should starve for conceits, for all Phantastes. But these puling Lovers, I cannot but laugh at them and their Encomions of their Mistress's. They make for sooth her hair of Gold, her eyes of Diamond, her cheeks of Roses, her lips of Rubies, her teeth of Pearl, and her whole body of Ivory: and when they have thus Idold' her Like Big malion, they f ll down and worship her. Psyche, thou hast laid a hard task upon my shoulders, to invent at very ones ask, were it not that I refresh my dulness once a day with my most Angelical presence, 'twere unpossible for me to undergo it. In good time, yonder comes Commonsense, I imagine it should be he by his voice. He's about some hasty State-matters, he talks of posts me thinks. Save you my Lord, I have attended your leisure this hour. Especially where the multitude is so well headed. But I pray you where's Master Memory? hath he forgotten him self that he is not here. In my conceit, that S Like the man that inquired, who saw his Ass, when himse fe rid on him. Or rather in my imagination Like your Fantastical Gulls Apparel, wearing a Spanish Felt, a French Doublet, a Granado Stocking, a Dutch Slop, and Italian Cloak, with a Welch frise Jerkin. Visus you have made Coelum a heavenly speech, passed earthly capacity, it had been as good for him he had thun dreaded. But I pray you who taught him speak and use no Actium, me think it had been excellent to have turned round about in his speech. Why speaks he not? In every thing, in pecuisnnes, in folly.—'st Boy. And in many more such vices: Now he may well say, the left side a men right side is, for a cros e wife, is always contrary to her husband, ever contradicting what he with sheth for, Like to the verse in Martial, Velle tuum. Lighter then a feather, does any man, make question on of that? By my faith, that spoils all the former, for these far dingalles take up all the room now a days, 'tis not a woman questionless, shall I be put down with a Riddle sirrah, Heu r si search the corners of your conceit, and find it me quickly. Oh Sir my left eye is my right in the glass, do you see? by these lips my garters hang so neatly, my Gloves & shoes become my hands and fee e so well: Heuresis tie my shoes strings with a new knot;—this point was scarce well trust,—so, 'tis excellent.—Looking-glass es were a passing inventio ̄ , I protest the fittest books for Ladies to study on— Your ears will teach you presently, for now he is come king, that fellow in the bays me thinks I should have known him; oh 'tis Comedus, 'tis so but he is become now a days something humorous, and too too, Satirical, up and down, Like his great grandfather A istophanes. Pish, pish this is a speech with no Actium, lets here TO RENCE, quid ig tur faciam. &c. Phy, phy, phy, no more Actium, lend me your bays, do it thus. Quid igitur. &c. (he acts it after the old kind of Panto mimic Actium.) In my imagination it's excellent, for in this kind the hand (you know) is would bingerto the tongue and prou des the words a lodging in the ears of the Auditors. This Boy it should seem represents Odour, he is so perfect a persumer. Olfactus of all the Senses, your objects have the worst luck, they are always jarring with their contraries, for none can wear Civet, but they are suspected of a proper bad sent, where the proverb springs, he smelleth best, that does of nothing smell. Foh, foh, what a smell is hear? is this one of your de lightful objects? Would, would, would, would, this in my opinion is the tongue of the Antipodes. It seems these last words were very significant, I promise you a God of great denominatio ̄ , he may be my Lord Tappes for his large Ti less. I think not so Memory, for when Hercules had killed the flaming Dragon of Hesperdia, with the Apples of that Orchard, he made this siery meat, in memory whereof he nam it Snapdragon. , of all I long to see your objects, How comes it we have lost those pretty sports. 'Tis strange, that women being so mutable, Will never change in changing their apparel? How now Memory so merry? what do you trou ble your self with two palsies at once? shaking, and laugh king. Why not. This time Plato's twesue month to come, look you save your cheeks better. If I do not seem pranker now, then I did in those days, I'll be hanged? Boy, Heuresis, what thinkest thou I think, when I think nothing? Well gest boy, but yet thou mistookst it, for I was thinking of the constancy of women, (Ap titus snoares aloud. Beware sirrah, take heed, I doubt me there's some wild Boar lodged here about? how now? me thinks these be the Sen ses, would? in my conceit the elder brother of death has kissed them. How now? do they talk in their sleep? are they not awake Heuresis? Would, would, would, would, st, Heuresis, stir not sirrah. Ah Linguam are you there? st, sirrah take heed you wake her not. Would, would, would, we shall here avon, where she lost her maidenhead, st, boy, my Lord Vicegerent, and Master Regi ster are hard by, run quickly, tell them of this accident, wish them come softly. How? her Crown, and her Robe, never recover them? hum, wast not said to be left by Memory? would? I con iecture here's some knavery-fast locked with sleep, in good faith. Was that Crown and Garment yours L ngua? Oh strange, she answers in her sleep to my question, but how come the Senses to strive for it? What a strange thing is this? My Lord will you believe your own ears, you shall hear her answer me, as directly and truly as my be. Linguam, what did you with the Crown and garments. She thinks Mendacio speaks to her, mark now, mark how truly she will answer: what say you Ma dame? Favu, favu, she dreams now she knows not what she says, I try her once again: Madame? what remedy can you have for your great losses? What did you with the potion Acrasia made you: In my imagination my Lord, the Day is dead to the great toe, and in my conceit it grows dark, by which I con iecture it will be cold, and therefore in my fa cy, and opinion, it's best to repair to our lodgings. Is he not here? why then in my imagination he's left behind, o la Anamnestes remembrance. st, my Lord, softly, softly, here's the notablest piece of treason discovered, how say you Lingu. set all the Senses at ods, she hath confessed it to me in her sleep. Ima gine theres old moving amongst them: me thinks a handful of nuts would turn them all out of their Soldiers coats. Oh Lord, sir, this kind of frown is excellent, especially when 'tis sweetened with such a pleasing smile.