A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Ix Part 72

MEN. I long to see those hotspur Senses at it: they say they have gallant preparations, and not unlikely, for most of the soldiers are ready in arms, since the last field fought against their yearly enemy Meleager[201] and his wife Acrasia; that conquest hath so fleshed them, that no peace can hold them. But had not Meleager been sick, and Acrasia drunk, the Senses might have whistled for the victory.

APP. Foh, what a stink of gunpowder is yonder!

MEN. Who's this? O, O, 'tis Appet.i.tus, Gustus's hungry parasite.

[_Aside_.]

APP. I cannot endure the smoking of guns, the thundering of drums: I had rather hear the merry hacking of pot-herbs, and see the reeking of a hot capon. If they would use no other bucklers in war but s.h.i.+elds of brawn, brandish no swords but sweards of bacon,[202] trail no spears but spare-ribs of pork, and instead of arquebuss pieces discharge artichoke-pies: toss no pikes but boiled pickrels, then Appet.i.tus would rouse up his crest, and bear up himself with the proudest.

MEN. Ah! here's a youth stark naught at a trench, but an old dog at a trencher, a tall squire at a square table. [_Aside_.]

APP. But now my good masters must pardon me; I am not one for their service, for their service is without service, and indeed their service is too hot for my diet. But what, if I be not myself, but only this be my spirit that wanders up and down, and Appet.i.tus be killed in the camp?

the devil he is as soon. How's that possible? tut, tut, I know I am. I am Appet.i.tus, and alive, too--by this infallible token, that I feel myself hungry.

MEN. Thou mightest have taken a better token of thyself, by knowing thou art a fool. [_Aside_.]

APP. Well, then, though I made my fellow-soldiers admire the beauty of my back, and wonder at the nimbleness of my heels, yet now will I, at safety at home, tell in what dangers they are in abroad. I'll speak nothing but guns and glaves,[203] and staves and phalanges,[204] and squadrons and barricadoes, ambuscadoes, palmedoes, blank-point, demi-point,[205] counterpoint, counterscarp, sallies and lies, saladoes, tarantantaras, ranta, tara, tara, hey.

MEN. I must take the fife out of his mouth, or he'll ne'er ha' done.

[_Aside_.]

APP. But, above all, I'll be sure on my knees to thank the great--

[MENDACIO _blinds him_.

MEN. Who am I, who am I, who I?

APP. By the blood-stained falchion of Mavors,[206] I am on your side.

MEN. Why, who am I?

APP. Are you a soldier?

MEN. No.

APP. Then you are Master h.e.l.luo the bearward.

MEN. No, no; he's dead.

APP. Or Gulono the gutty serjeant, or Delphino the vintner, or else I know you not; for these are all my acquaintance.

MEN. Would I were hanged, if I be any of these!

APP. What, Mendacio! By the faith of a knight, thou art welcome; I must borrow thy whetstone, to sharpen the edges of my martial compliments.

MEN. By the faith of a knight! What a pox, where are thy spurs?[207]

APP. I need no spurs; I ride, like Pegasus, on a winged horse--on a swift jennet, my boy, called Fear.

MEN. What shouldst thou fear in the wars? He's not a good soldier that hath not a good stomach.

APP. O, but the stink of powder spoils Appet.i.tus's stomach, and then thou knowest, when 'tis gone, Appet.i.tus is dead; therefore I very manfully drew my sword, and flourished it bravely about mine ears, hist![208] and finding myself hurt, most manfully ran away.

MEN. All heart indeed, for thou rann'st like a hart out of the field. It seems, then, the Senses mean to fight it out.

APP. Ay, and outfight themselves, I think; and all about a trifle, a paltry bauble found, I know not where.

MEN. Thou art deceived: they fight for more than that; a thing called superiority, of which the crown is but an emblem.

APP. Mendacio, hang this superiority; crown me no crown, but Bacchus's crown of roses; give me no sceptre but a fat capon's leg, to show that I am the great king of Hungary! Therefore, I prythee, talk no more of state-matters: but in brief, tell me, my little rascal, how thou hast spent thy time this many a day.

MEN. Faith, in some credit, since thou sawest me last.

APP. How so? where?

MEN. Everywhere. In the court your gentlewomen hang me at their ap.r.o.n-strings, and that makes them answer so readily. In the city I am honoured like a G.o.d; none so well acquainted with your tradesmen. Your lawyers, all the termtime, hire me of my lady; your gallants, if they hear my name abused, they stab for my sake; your travellers so doat upon me as pa.s.ses.[209] O, they have good reason; for I have carried them to many a good meal under the countenance of my familiarity. Nay, your statesmen have oftentimes closely conveyed me under their tongues, to make their policies more current. As for old men, they challenge my company by authority.

APP. I am exceeding glad of your great promotion.

MEN. Now, when I am disposed, I can philosophy it in the university with the subtlest of them all.

APP. I cannot be persuaded that thou art acquainted with scholars, ever since thou wert pressed to death in a printing-house.

MEN. No? why, I was the first founder of the three sects of philosophy, except one of the Peripatetics, who acknowledge Aristotle, I confess, their great grandfather.

APP. Thou boy! how is this possible? Thou art but a child, and there were sects of philosophy, before thou wert born.

MEN. Appet.i.tus, thou mistakest me. I tell thee, three thousand years ago was Mendacio born in Greece,[210] nursed in Crete, and ever since honoured everywhere. I'll be sworn I held old Homer's pen, when he writ his Iliads and his Odysseys.

APP. Thou hadst need, for I hear say he was blind.

MEN. I helped Herodotus to pen some part of his "Muses";[211] lent Pliny ink to write his history; rounded Rabelais in the ear,[212] when he historified Pantagruel: as for Lucian, I was his genius. O, those two books "De Vera Historia," howsoever they go under his name, I'll be sworn I writ them every t.i.ttle.

APP. Sure as I am hungry, thou'st have it for lying. But hast thou rusted this latter time for want of exercise?

MEN. Nothing less. I must confess I would fain have jogged Stow and great Hollingshed on their elbows, when they were about their chronicles; and, as I remember, Sir John Mandeville's "Travels" and a great part of the "Decads"[213] were of my doing. But for the "Mirror of Knighthood," "Bevis of Southampton," "Palmerin of England," "Amadis of Gaul," "Huon de Bordeaux," "Sir Guy of Warwick," "Martin Marprelate,"

"Robin Hood," "Garragantua," "Gerileon," and a thousand such exquisite monuments as these, no doubt but they breathe in my breath up and down.

APP. Downwards, I'll swear, for there's stinking lies in them.

MEN. But what, should I light a candle to the bright suns.h.i.+ne of my glorious renown? The whole world is full of Mendacio's fame.

APP. And so it will be so long as the world is full of fame.

MEN. But, sirrah, how hast thou done this long time?

APP. In as much request as thyself. To begin with the court, as thou didst: I lie with the ladies all night, and that's the reason they call for cullies and gruellies so early before their prayers. Your gallants never sup, breakfast, or bever[214] without me.

MEN. That's false, for I have seen them eat with a full stomach.