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Enter
an old Captain and Citizens with Pharamond. [5.4]
Cap.
Come my brave Mirmidons let's fall on, let our caps
Swarm my boys, and you nimble
tongues forget your mothers
Gibberish, of what do you lack,
and set your mouths
Up Children, till your Pallats
fall frighted hail a
Fathom, past the cure of Bay-salt
and gross Pepper.
And then cry Philaster,
brave Philaster,
Let Philaster be deeper
in request, my ding dongs,
My pairs of dear Indentures,
King of Clubs,
Than your cold water Chamblets
or your paintings
Spitted with Copper; let not
your hasty Silks,
Or your branch'd Cloth of Bodkin,
or your Tishues,
Dearly belov'd of spiced Cake
and Custard,
Your Robin-hoods scarlets and
Johns, tie your affections
In darkness to your shops; no,
dainty Duckers,
Up with your three pil'd spirits,
your wrought valours.
And let your un-cut Coller make
the King feel
The measure of your mightiness
Philaster.
Cry my Rose nobles, cry.
All. Philaster, Philaster.
Cap.
How do you like this my Lord Prince, these are mad
boys, I tell you, these are
things that will not strike their
top-sayles to a Foist. And let
a man of war, an Argosie
hull and cry Cockles.
Pha.
Why you rude slave, do you know what you do?
Cap.
My Pretty Prince of Puppets, we do know,
And give your greatness warning,
that you talk
No more such Bugs-words, or
that soldred Crown
Shall be scratch'd with a Musket:
Dear Prince Pippen,
Down with your noble bloud;
or as I live,
I'le have you codled: let him
lose my spirits,
Make us a round Ring with your
Bills my Hectors,
And let us see what this trim
man dares do.
Now Sir, have at you; here I
it,
And with this swashing blow,
do you swear Prince;
I could hulk your Grace, and
hang you up cross leg'd,
Like a Hare at a Poulters, and
do this with this wiper.
Pha.
You will not see me murder'd wicked Villains?
1 Cit. Yes indeed will
we Sir, we have not seen one for a
great while.
Capt.
He would have weapons would he? give him a
Broad-side my brave boyes with
your pikes, branch me his
skin in Flowers like a Satin,
and between every Flower a
mortal cut, your Royalty shall
ravel, jag him Gentlemen, I'le
have him cut to the kell, then
down the seames, oh for a whip
To make him Galoone-Laces,
I'le have a Coach-whip.
Phi.
O spare me Gentlemen.
Cap.
Hold, hold, the man begins to fear and know himself
[end page 37, signature [F3], catchword: He]
He shall for this time only
be seal'd up
With a Feather through his nose,
that he may only see
Heaven, and think whither he's
going, (King
Nay beyond-Sea, Sir, we will
proclaim you, you would be
Thou tender Heir apparent to
a Church-Ale,
Thou sleight Prince of single
Sarcenet;
Thou Royal Ring-tail, fit to
fly at nothing
But poor mens Poultry, and have
every Boy
Beat thee from that too with
his Bread and Butter.
Pha.
Gods keep me from these Hell-hounds.
2
Cit. Shall's geld him Captain?
Cap.
No, you shall spare his dowcets my dear Donsels,
As you respect the Ladies let
them flourish; (Boys.
The curses of a longing woman
kill as speedy as a Plague,
1
Cit. I'le have a Leg that's certain.
2
Cit. I'le have an Arm.
3
Cit. I'le have his Nose, and at mine own charge build
a Colledge, and clap't upon
the Gate.
4
Cit. I'le have his little Gut to string a Kit with,
For certainly a Royal Gut will
sound like silver. (once.
Pha.
Would they were in thy belly, and I past my pain
5
Cit. Good Captain let me have his Liver to feed Ferrets.
Cap.
Who will have parcels else? speak.
Pha.
Good gods consider me, I shall be tortur'd.
1
Cit. Captain, I'le give you the trimming of your hand-
sword, and let me have his Skin
to make false Scabbards.
2
He had no horns Sir had he?
(horns?
Cap.
No Sir, he's a Pollard, what would'st thou do with
Cit.
O if he had, I would have made rare Hasts and
Whistles of 'em, but his Shin
bones if they be found shall
serve me.
Enter
Philaster.
All.
Long live Philaster, the brave Prince Philaster.
Phi.
I thank you Gentlemen, but why are these
Rude weapons brought abroad,
to teach your hands
Uncivil Trades?
Cap. My Royal Rosiclear,
We are thy Mirmidons, thy Guard,
thy Rorers,
And when thy noble body is in
durance,
Thus do we clap our musty Murrions
on,
And trace the streets in terrour:
Is it peace
Thou Mars of men? Is
the King sociable,
And bids thee live? Art thou
above thy foemen,
And free as Phoebus?
Speak, if not, this stand
Of Royal blood shall be abroach,
atilt, and run
Even to the lees of honour.
Phi.
Hold and be satisfied, I am my self
Free as my thoughts are, by
the gods I am.
Cap.
Art thou the dainty darling of the King?
Art thou the Hylas to
our Hercules?
Do the Lords bow, and the regarded
scarlets,
Kiss their Gumd go's, and cry,
we are your servants?
Is the Court Navigable, and
the presence struck
With Flags of friendship? if
not, we are thy Castle
And this man sleeps.
Phi.
I am what I desire to be, your friend,
I am what I was born to be,
your Prince.
Pha.
Sir, there is some humanity in you,
You have a noble soul, forget
my name,
And know my misery, set me safe
aboard
From these wild Canibals,
and as I live,
I'le quit this Land for ever:
there is nothing,
Perpetual prisonment, cold,
hunger, sickness
Of all sorts, all dangers, and
all together
The worst company of the worst
men, madness, age,
To be as many Creatures as a
woman,
And do as all they do, nay to
despair;
But I would rather make it a
new Nature,
And live with all those than
endure one hour
Amongst these wild Dogs.
Phi.
I do pity you: Friends discharge your fears,
Deliver me the Prince, I'le
warrant you
I shall be old enough to find
my safety.
3
Cit. Good Sir take heed he does not hurt you,
[end column one, page 38]
He's a fierce man I can tell
you Sir.
Cap.
Prince, by your leave I'le have a Sursingle,
And Male you like a Hawke.
[He stirs.
Phi.
Away, away, there is no danger in him:
Alas he had rather sleep to
shake his fit off.
Look you friends, how gently
he leads, upon my word
He's tame enough, he need no
further watching.
Good my friends go to your houses
and by me have your par
dons, and my love,
And know there shall be nothing
in my power
You may deserve, but you shall
have your wishes
To give you more thanks were
to flatter you,
Continue still your love, and
for an earnest
Drink this.
All. Long maist thou live brave Prince,
brave
Prince, brave Prince.
[Exeunt Phi. and Pha.
Cap.
Thou art the King of Courtesie:
Fall off again my sweet youths,
come and every man
Trace to his house again, and
hang his pewter up, then to
The Tavern and bring your wives
in Musses: we will have
Musick and the red grape shall
make us dance, and rise Boys.
[Exeunt. |
| © Twilight
Pictures, March
2001. This text is freely available for
educational, non-profit uses only. Please report any errors or suggestions
to Drew Whitehead.
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