GRIMOLD

Stand? Sure, the Governor sleeps. My Lord, is' fit We wait upon such Silkworms, crepp'd in wool? He was her father's Councillor; a man Created in the dark: he walks invisibly; He dwells in Labyrinths; he loves silence: But when he talks, his language carries more Promiscuous sense, then ancient Oracles. So various in his shapes, that oft he is Disgu zed from his own knowledge. And error Much incident to humane Politics, Who strive to know others more then themselves. Pox of these French ligges? Courtiers all ways dance. This is to Hermegild mere lechery: This wanton gesture does obscure Thoughts of such consequence and weight, as hang Like Plummets on his heart. Paradine is A soft, easy fool, and must be gulled. Now the Motion speaks. How the Spaniel fawns, because he dares not bark? When shall we solace our bodies? Nay, nay, stay, Gentlemen! Let us forget Old quarrels, then end our new acquaintance. We are for the Country now. I'll but tell you A few of your faults, and leave the amendment To your own leisures: but you all think You're wiser then I. Though Paradine look flourishing, and Like A thing new brushed; a flame of triumph, (As if his father surfeited in some Overgrown City when he God him) yet he Hath in him seeds of war, bold thoughts, and we I'th Camp, esteem him honest too. True, & the Royal fool greets him with such Ravenous kisses, that you would think, he meant To eat his lips. Th'art too loud! If thou'lt talk safely, go get A soar throat; hoarse men speak low. The captived Rhodolinda, (whose father Albouine deprived of life and kingdom) Hath with such amorous subtlety behaved Her gesture, that Albouine is now her Prisoner. This martial progress was but made To visit her. She makes him guilty of Idolatry, and knows the thrifty use Of time: as she ascends, her Countrymen Must rise. The Rascal flatters, as if he had served His prenticeship in Court. Indeed he looks Like a Chronicler. The King's head must now convert to rotten wood. That Court Earewiggs may live there, and devour His brains. Dost not perceive how they begin To creep into his ears? He is a Germane in his drink: busied With a wanton pride, which his Flatterers Admire for mirth, but his friends do pity. By whom? Vollterri, now the King forsakes The Camp, he must maintain luxurious mouths, Such as can utter perfumed breath, and these Strait compose a faction, engross his ears. They limit still his conversation. Even as the slow finger of the Dial Does in its motion circular remove To distant figures: so by a subtle Leisure, they do prefix the hours, When he must change his rotten Parasite, For one more skilful, how admire, and praise. No honest Tongue can ever interpose To tell him he is mortal. True, his Confessor, that in sighed extern A Patriarch seems, will gain by flattery, And superscribe unto the King, as to the Pope (His holiness.) But Gondibert, Whom Conclaves here in Court do canonise For Saints, will scarce be admitted in heaven For Angels. She gives us leisure to expect Her character. Women make themselves more known When they do rule, then when obey. Th'ast named her! Though my obdurate suff rance In active war hath quite deprived me of All amorous gesture. Though not these forty Winter's, I have seen any of her sex But Sutlers wives, who, in stead of Fillets, Wrap their sooty hair in Horses girts. Though My marrow is frozen in my bones, Yet I melt before her eyes. When I see her, I grow proud below the Navel. For she Is none of the French Nursery, that practice The sublime frisk. None of your ijgging Girls, That perch Paraqueeto's on their fists, And ride toth' Court Like Venus Falconers. She's none of those that on their heads advance High, swaggering Plumes, Like a gay Forehorse In a Country Teem. Oh, she's worth the tempting! That's a trick I learned of the devil. Those That are virtuous, needs his temptation, The wicked have power enough to damn themselves. Room for Cuckolds, whose horns are so high They boar the Moon, as she frisk's in the sky This Peace makes me rotten, dusty As a Cobweb. I live Like a Cricket Ith'corner of and Oven. Pox of these oregrowne Cities. To be valiant here, is to forfeit The Statute: and these furred gowns hold, There is no sin so great as poverty. I, or a corrupted Officer, at the noise Of a Parliament. In this division Of vnualewed Trophies, Territories Vast and ample, (gained partly by my sweat) Not a single Acre falls to my share. The same. He is a great Astrologer. The mere Anatomy i'th front o'th Calendar. You may know where the Sign is, by some toy In's habit, which he removes, as the Sign Removes. Is death Sir! d'ye make us your Voiders? How he stands? he is created of Starch, And dares not use a boisterous motion, Lest he should fallen in Rumples. Or what, Sir? Sir, I've some few words, I needs must utter: Since my last services in Hungary, You remain on my Tally six thousand Ducats: I'm loath to score up still, and pay My self with my own Chalk. Do your ears blister to hear this? My breath is Wholesome. I cannot tipple Like a Duck In a green Pool. Nor feed on Berries in A Hedge, Like some lost remnant of my father's Scattered lust. Sir, pay your debts! In this division of the Lands, I helped To conquer; I am not furnished with A Molehill for a pillow. No Sir, (thanks to your Royal thrift) it is Your office to pay all; your Treasurers Custom to pay nothing. Thrusts him away. I cannot take your reference for payment. Sir, I'll make my Ghost, my Executor, And walk after death, ere I'll loose my money. I'll bribe your Lordship with a Ginny Tooth pick! I am obedient (Sir) to your desire. How Sir, must we not drink? If you'll extirpate this vice of drinking, Give order for a privy search i'th the Ocean; There dwell the greatest drinkers. The Whale (Sir) Drinks deeper let's hale her on shore, and impownd her In a Cistern. Stay (Sir) ere I engage my self in new Services, pay me for my old. You rest Upon my Ticket, six thousand Ducats; And I have not seen your Majesties face In any other metal, but your own Flesh and blood these three months. 'Tis then for hunger, Sir. I will outroar thunder, or the Cannon! Must they still walk in wealthy Furs; while men Of merit here are clothed in Cabidge leaves? My Lord, give losers leave to speak. I've lost My youth and blood ith'warres, and I want food, A reverend Ass bears my wife and her young eggs In Paniers up and down the streets. I travail Like a Tartar, with all my family About me. Nay, nay, nay! you would be gone! Good King, pay me. I love thy Grace: And will fight for thee, while I've motion left To stir a feather. My want constrains me to't. By this hand, I'm feign to eat Bran and Parsley Like a tame Rabbit. You'll entice me now t'enter into bound? Great men are always sad, when they should pay Their debts. He that receives a kindness from the Devil, Shall be sure to loose by his gains. With whom? In love with his own wife! that's held incest In Court: variety is more luscious. Your Majesty has a frail memory To forget me so soon— 'Tis no piece of unkindness to wish thee In hell, for all thy friends dwell there. Th'ast none Upon the earth. Gentlemen will you be open to me? Draw near! let us communicate our hearts! Does not that wealth, which you disburse for powders, Perfumes, clothes, and physic for the face, Return with gain? Have you not each a Mistress that maintains You in expense and riot? Hah? Fame gives It out, you smooth Gallants are much obliged Unto the sins of Ladies. Well, Gentlemen, I must be furnished too. Yes, inquire me out some old Land-Carack. I am content to stretch my loins for a Pension. I was never pawned, Sir. In this lean age, we value all things According to the rate, they pawn for. Some eight; I, I, eight hundred Crowns a year will doe't. I am desirous of no more then will Maintain my Genet, and my Dwarf. Oh death, no; no, no, no! Do not think I have A conscience so ill bred, to put my self Upon a Lady, when unfit for the affair. Yet I can follow your bodies with rough Motion, and not shed my limbs by the way— But I will kick you in earnest,—kick you For my exercise and warmth—till my toes Grow crooked— And then be crop-card too, Like Irish Nags. You'll both prove fleet in a Raze, provided The foe charge you in the Rear. Seat me with Tender motion— This luxurious City Hath made me so rotten, I dare not walk Ith'winde, lest I should be blown in pieces. Oh, Oh, Oh, the Cramp! the Cramp! In my stomach. I've eaten nothing this month but raw air, And that gives but weak nourishment to age. Pure want, Sir, I know small devotion, I. For though I fast much, I pray as little As most Christians of my Calling. Groans again. Alas, Sir, I am grown so hoarse, the Saints Can hardly hear my Orisons. The Elixir of Gold would surely much Assuage the grief in my stomach— Groans. Will all the vast accruements I project From this disguise, convert into The slender purchase of and Hospital? Six thousand Ducats for a Mansion in And hospital, no bigger then a coffin: Where Like Carthusians, we must feed, not to Prevent hunger, but to hinder lust. Princes May easily pay their debts, when they enforce Their Creditors to buy Titles and Place At their own rates. Gondibert, Vollterri ! forsake the storm Ere you are wet? Weasels! Monkeys! Dogs! And old soldier of the Kings— I am not rich enough enjoy the Gout. The Physicians call it famine. 'Tis fourteen days since I have had a joust Occasion but to pick my teeth. Each of my thighs are dried, and hardened Like And old West-Falia Flitch. All m'interals Are shrunk up. My bladder is no bigger then A Pigs: and were my lean jaws unmuffled, You should see me mump, Like a Matron that Had lost her teeth. Hah! Does she weep? If she should be in earnest now? I may linger out a score of years, or so; But I cannot live long. I shall forget to counterfeit! Oh Rogue! What do I Like the picture Of Winter, in this withered habit? I must Recover my health. But alas, Madame, Do not deride his destiny, that now Is taking flight to reach that place, where your Best Star inhabits, and shall have power To tell loud tales: if you prove thus cruel. How could you ever love me? I have been old, Even since your first original growth. My joy is turned to a disease; it makes Me speechless! I ever thought these Court-Tits Were much taken with my smooth looks; but that Their modesty still kept them from my reach. Foolish modesty! It has hindered my Preferment much for since I left the Camp, I have been in love with some three hundred Of'em, yet never durst lay claim to one. Uh! uh! If Heaven should so affect Our mutual appetites, as to restore My health, would you continue still to dote Upon and old sinner? Las! poor Maulkin! She's caught! I shall grow rich. For I have herd, these Court-Ladies allow Large pensions to their Paramours. Help! help! To move me higher in my seat— Some strange influence from your touch, hath given A second Youth unto my faculties: Before, I seemed to crawl Like to a Crab: Now my joints grow supple, as if I were Provided for a Raze. This hand inspires my strength— I've but so much breath left, as would make up A short prayer to secure my last jaunt: Yet I will spend it in a hearty curse For your deer sakes. I will eat that Cunymond ! When you deprived me of your hand, you took Away my strength and heat: touch me again, And I shall walk stiff as Cacus. She lifts him up. Look, Madame. I creep as other mortal do, On the surface of the Earth— I, a Ladies warm hand will make it stand. A little physic from your Lip, and then My cure is quite finished — Hem! Sure this was Nestor's receipt to recover his Youth. Hem!— I am as wholesome as a Nut, and have As proud flesh about me, as the youngest Gamester of they all. If this heat continue, I must even call For a Julip, or sow my wild Oats In the next soil I meet. I mean ith' dark. Speak, pretty Finch with the Green tail? Hah! Must we kiss close, and often? Wriggle up and down Like young Eels— You mean to hang me now! When I am dead, then all my debts are paid. For I leave small Lands and Chattels behind me. But hark you (my Liege) you may pay your debts In your life time, so deprive your Executor Of a trouble. And I for lechery. Sir, I would feign Depart in quiet Like other young Chrysomes: Fain make all even between the world and me. I beseech your Highness discharge my areres For my last service in Hungary, Then hang me when you please. I will rather die twice. Oh Sir pay me Six thousand Ducats, and then proclaim Your sentence here aloud. I would feign die Merrily. I have not been drunk at my own charge This four months. I, Sir, it's a poor Snake that cannot cast, His skin once in a Summer. Mark! This is a new Court-thrift: when you are Loath to maintain flatterers, you publish Your selves with your own praise. Lay your fingers Here—Not a word, lest I return you a blow. I know you cannot speak without a compliment. I've herd you have transported from Paris The Geometrical cringe, and the Art Of numbering the hairs upon your chins. And they say, it is your custom to sleep In Pomatum Masques. Yes, and colour them so read, that you seem To blush more, then the Sign of the Kings head Before a Country Inn. Leave off your ijgging motion, when you mix Your selves in a salute; your bodies seem To dance upon your knees. You pinion up Your Elbows thus:—Like Pullets trust upon A spit. Then wreathe your Hammes in thus; and move With a discreet leisure, as if you meant To number all the Pebbles in the street. And then you fleer, as if you had washed your gums In vinegar. This you admire for gesture Of the newest fashion. I say, it's skiruy! For he that greets a Lady so, does look Like a Soap-boiler, upon a Closestool. I would not starve, look, Like a parched Anatomy Sowed in a Kidskin. Pay your debts, Sir! You must not move, till y'haue paid me. I know, You may be angry with more safety then I. Bid some Colossus of your Guard cleave me With his Falchon; yet I shall steal a passage Over the black River, when Charon slumbers, And fright your Grace. Which makes it look, Like the picture of Doomsday; When all the Planets are darkened. And now move hence; but with your lips sowed up, For fear of a compliment. You two shall strait Take horse with me, and be billeted in My Quarter. Stay, Gentlemen! One word more! This is a hight Climate: when you must needs Marry to increase your Tribe, your best way Is to go a wooing in the City: For certain rich widows there, love Court-fooles; And use to play with their babbles.