CRISPINUS

I am very well Sir. Near trust me, but you are most delicately seated here, full of sweet delight and blandishment; And excellent air, And excellent Air. I am most strenuously well, I thank you Sir. Make your approach, sweet Captain. Another good Jest. I, say, say. Your Geutleman, parcel- Poet, Sir. What must we do, Captain? Oh— Oblatrant—Obcaecate—Furibund—Fatuate—Strenuous. — Oh— Conscious. Oh, no: Oh—Oh—Oh—Oh. Oh—Oh—Oh. Oh— Clutched. Oh— Oh— Obstupefact. Pretty, and well, I thank you. Jupiter guard Caesar. I have herd so Sir; and do most vehemently desire to participate the knowledge of her fair Features. I would speak with my Cousin Cytheris. Yes in truth for sooth, for fault of a better. Or else, she should not be my Cousin, I assure you; That I am Lady; you shall see mine Arms, if't please you. Yet, I pray you, vouchsafe the sighed of my arms, Mistress; for I bear them about me, to have h'em seen: my name is Crispinus, or Cri-spinas indeed; which is well ex pressed in my arms, a Face crying in chief; and beneath it a bloody Toe, between three Thorns Pungent. By this hand Lady, you hold a most sweet hand over him. Marry Lady, if you will entertain them most Court lie, you must do thus: as soon as ever, your maid, or your man brings you word they are come, you must say, A pox on hem; what do they here? And yet when they come, speak them as fair, & give them the kindest welcome in words, that can be. I, they are Poets, Lady. Oh yes, and extolled your perfections to the heavens. No Lady, 'tis Love, and Beauty make Poets: & since you Like Poets so well, your Love, and Beauty's shall make me a Poet. I, and a better than these: I would be sorry else. Do you love singing, Lady? Entreat the Ladies, to entreat me to sing then, I beseech you. Heaven and earth! would you tell that? Alas Madam, I cannot in truth. I thank you Gentlemen, I'll do my best. Nay truly Gentlemen, I'll challenge no man— :I can sing but one staff of the Ditty neither. I do make verses, when I come in such a street as this: Oh your Citty-Ladies, you shall ha'hem fit in every shop Like the Muses, — offering you the Castalian Dews, and the Thespian Liquours, to as many as have but the sweet grace and Audacity to— sip of their lips. Did you never hear any of my verses? I'll tell thee some (if I can but recover them) I come posed even now of a velvet cap, I fawa Jewellers wife wear; who indeed was a Jewel her self: I prefer that kind of Tire now; What's thy opinion Horace? I cannot tell, but it stirs me more then all your Court Curls, or your Spangle's, or your Tricks; I affect not these high Gable ends, these Tuscan tops, nor your Coronets, nor your Arches, nor your Pyramid's; give me a fine sweet— little velvet Cap, with a Bodkin; as you say: and a Mushroom, for all your other Ornatures. I have remitted my verses all this while, I think I would forgotten them. Pray Jove, I can entreat them of my Memory. No, sweet Horace, we must not have thee think so. Pray thee Horace, observe. God's-light; these Verses have lost me again: I shall not invite them to mind now. Nay gentle, Horace, stay: I have it, now. Rich was thy hap, Sweet Velvet Cap. There to be placed; Where thy smooth black, sleek white may smack, And both be graced. White, is there usurped for her brow; her forehead: and then sleek, as the Parallel to smooth that went before. A kind of Parano masy, or Agnomination: do you conceive Sir? Why, what haste hast thou? pray thee stay a little: thou shalt not go yet, by Phœbus. And then— Yes, do, good Horace: Horace, thou art miserably affected to be gone, I see But— Pray thee, lets prove, to enjoy thee awhile: Thou hast no business, I assure me: Whither is thy journey directed? would? A Friend? Whats he? do not I know him? What's his Name? where's he lodged? Nay, but where is't? I pray thee say. Oh, that's my course directly; I am for you. Come, go: why standest thou? Fow: It's no matter, I fear no Pestilence, I have not of fended Phœbus. Come, along. Why, its all one. I have nothing to do, and I Love not to be idle; I'll bear thee company. How callest thou the Po thecary? He dwells at the Three Furies, by Janus Temple? Heart, I owe him Money for sweet meats, and he has laid to arrest me, I hear: but— Well then, I'll swear, and speak him fair, if the worst come. But his Name is Minos, not Rhadamanthus, Horace. I protest to thee Horace (do but taste me once,) if I do know my self, and mine own virtues truly, thou wilt not make that esteem of Varius, or Virgil, or Tibullus, or any of them in deed, as now in thy Ignorance thou dost; which I am content to forgive: I would feign see which of these could pen more Verses in a day, or with more facility then I; or that could court his Mistress, kiss her hand, make better sport with her Fan, or her Dog? Or that could move his body more gracefully? or Dance better? you shoo'd see me, were it not i'the street. Why, I have been a Reveller, and at my cloth of sil ver Suit, and my long stocking, in my Time, and will be a gain— And then for my singing, Hermogenes him self Envies me; that is your only Master of Music you have in Room. Au: Convert thy thoughts to somewhat else, I pray thee. I, I thank Jove, and my Grandfather to, and all my kinsfolks, and well composed in their Graves. What's that, Horace? What was't, I pray thee? Tut, tut: abandon, this idle humour, it's nothing but Melancholy. Before Jove, now I think out, I am to appear in Court here, to answer to one that has me in suit: sweet Ho raze go with me; this is my hour: if I neglect it, the Law proceeds against me: Thou art familiar with these things; pray thee, if thou love me, go. 'Tis true:— Troth, I am doubtful, what I may best do; whither to leave thee, or my affairs, Horace? No faith, I'll venture those now; Thou shalt see I love thee, come Horace. And how deals Mecoenas with thee? Liberally? Would? Is he open handed? bountiful? Troth Horace, thou art exceeding happy in thy Friends and Acquaintance; they are all most choice spirits, and of the first rank of Romans: I do not know that Poet, I protest, ha used his Fortune more prosperously then thou hast. If thou wouldst bring me known to Mecoenas, I should second thy desert well; Thou shouldst find a good sure Assistance of me: One that would speak all good of thee in thy Absence, and be content with the next Place, not envying thy Reputation with thy Patron. Let me not live, but I think thou and I (in a small time) should lift them all out of Favour, both Virgil, Varius, and the best of them; and enjoy him wholly to our selves. You report a wonder! 'tis scarce credible, this. Why, this enflames me with a more ardent desire to be his, then before: but, I doubt I shall find the entrance to his Familiarity, somewhat more then difficult, Horace. Nay, I'll bribe his Porter, and the Grooms of his Chamber; make his doors open to me that way first: and then, I'll observe my times. Say, he should extrude me his house to day; shall I therefore desist, or let fallen my suit to mor row? No: I'll attend him, follow him, meet him i'the street, the high ways, run by his Coach, never leave him. What? "Man hath nothing given him, in this life, without much Labour. Wilt thou go, Horace? Come, shall we go? Horace, what Passion? what Humours this? Was ever wretch so wretched, as unfortunate I? Oh Jupiter! Captain, he shall have them now, present lie; Please you to be acceptive, young Gentleman. Who? Horace? Oh, he forsook me most barbarously, I protest. Yes, here's twenty Drachmas, he did convey. Faith Captain, I'll be bold to show you a Mistress of mine, a Jewellers Wife, a Gallant, as we go along. She i'the little velvet Cap, Sir; is my Mistress. A pretty instrument: It's my Cousin Cytheris Violent, this: is't not? Alas Cousin, you are merrily inspired. I, and and excellent good jest, beside: Oh, they are rid home i'the Coach, as fast as the wheels can run. Yes. It's true, intruth: they say, he's valiant. Do you hear, Captain? I'll write nothing in it but Innocence: because I may swear I am Innocent. Exeunt. pray you, Master Usher; wee'll stand close, here. Dem. I; so the noble Captain may be joined with them in Commission. Yes, it is mine. Tropological—Anagogical—Loquacity—Pinnosity. I assure you, it is Lady, I have observed it. I warrant you Sweet Lady; let me alone to observe, till I turn my self to nothing but observation. God morrow cousin Cytheris. Why, a man may be a Poet, and yet not change his Hair, Lady. Not I sir, I'll challenge no man. If I freely may discover, &c. Sir, I'll sing that. By your kind leave, Master Albius. Yes faith, I have a design draws me hence: pray Sir, fashion me and excuse to the Ladies. Not for a Million Sir, now; Let it suffice, I must relin quish; and so in a word, please you to expiate this Compliment. I'll presently go and Enghle some Broker, for a Poets Gown, and bespeak a Gyrland: and then Jeweller, look to your best Jewel i'faith. Exit. Sweet Horace! Minerva, and the Muses stand auspi cious to thy designs. How farest thou sweet man? Frolic? rich? gallant? would? Troth no; but I could wish thou didst know us, Ho raze; we are a Scholar, I assure thee. Gramercy good Horace; Nay, we are new turned Po et too, which is more; and a Satirist too, which is more then that: I write joust in thy vain, I. I am for your Odes or your Sermons, or any thing indeed; we are a Gentleman beside: our name is Rufus Laberius Crispinus; we are a pretty Stoic too. By Phœbus, here's a most neat fine street; is't not? I protest to thee, I am enamord of this street now, more then of half the streets of Room, again; 'tis so polite, and terse: Ther's the front of a Building now. I study Architecture too: if ever I should built, I'de have a house joust of that Prospective. Oh,— I'll die them into another Colour, at pleasure: how many yards of Velvet dost thou think they contain? Me Sir? do you arrest me? Master Minos? I know no Master Minos. Where's Horace? Horace? Horace? Oh yes; I know you, Master Minos: 'cry you mercy. But Horace? Gods 'slid, is he gone? Do you hear, Master Minos? pray let's be used Like a man of our own fashion. By Janus and Jupiter, I meant to have paid you next week, every Drachma. Seek not to ec clipse my reputation thus vulgarly. I am conscious of it, Sir. Nay, I beseech you, Gentle men, do not exhale me thus; remember it's but for sweet meats— Sweet Master Minos: I am forfeited to eternal dis grace, if you do not commiserate. Good officer be not so officious. Yes, and as I am a Gentleman and a Reveller, I'll make a piece of Poetry and absolve all, within these five days. By Jove, sweet Captain, you do most infinitely en deer, and oblige me to you. By my truth, and earnest, but a'shal Captain, by your leave. Yes cousin: you know, I do not hate you. Cousin, pray you call Mistress Chloë; she shall hear and Essay of my Poetry. Master Albius ha. I, sir, that's but a borrowed name; as Ovid's Corinna, or Propertius his Cynthia, or your Nemesis, or Delia, Tibullus. We'll undertake him, Captain. You shall not only pray, but prevail, Lady. Come, sweet Captain. In the name of Jupiter; Silence. Yes, Sir. The great, &c. Of his, &c. Willing, &c. From any, &c. Nor to, &c. To be, &c. He gives, &c. To speak, &c. And to, &c. And there. &c. Shall needs, &c. Then any, &c. Nor any, &c. Shall needs, &c. Then any, &c. But, since, &c. In these. It shall, &c. To break, &c. To cham ̄ ge, &c. As the, &c. And the, &c. And Jupi. &c. A good Jest, I faith. Demet. Here. Dem. Not Guilty. Dem. By the Roman Gods, and the noblest Roman. Captain, you shall eternally girded me to you, as I am Generous. Oh, the Captain, the Captain. Oh. Oh, I am sick. Oh— Retrograde—Reciprocal—Incubus. Oh— Glibbery—Lubricall—Defunct —Oh— Oh—Oh— Magnificate. Oh, I shall cast up my— Spurious—Snotteries — Chilblaind —Oh—Oh— Clumsy — Oh— Barmy Froth! — Puffy—Inflate—Turgidous—Ventosity. At a hairs breadth Lady, I warrant you. Every thing, I, warrant you 'slid yonders Horace: they say he's and Excellent Poet: Mecoenas loves him. I'll fall into his acquain tance, if I can; I think he be composing, as he goes i'the street would? 'tis a good humour, and he be: I'll compose too. And we answer them again, Running division on the panting Air: For the Ear, sweet Melody; Delicious Nectar, for the Taste; I: this is Master Albius, Captain. Oh—Oh— Prorumped.