THE
ANTIPODES:
A COMEDIE.
Acted in the yeare 1638. by the Queenes
Majeſties Servants, at Salisbury
Court in Fleet-ſtreet.
The Author Richard Brome.
Hic totus volo rideat Libellus. Mart.
LONDON:
Printed by J. Okes, for Francis Conſtable, and
are to be ſold at his ſhops in Kings-
ſtreet at the ſigne of the Goat,
and in Weſtminſter-hall. 1640.
[A]
[A 1]
To
THE RIGHT
Honourable
WILLIAM
Earle of Hertford, &c
My Lord:
THe long experience, I have had
of your Honours favourable in-
tentions towards me, hath com-
pell’d me to this Preſumption.
But I hope your Goodneſſe will be pleaſed
to pardon what your Benignity was the
cauſe of, viz. the errour of my Dedication.
Had your Candor not encourag’d me, in
this I had beene innocent: Yet (I beſeech
you) thinke not, I intend it any other, then
your Recreation at your retirement from your
A2weighty
The Epiſtle Dedicatory.
weighty Employments; and to be the De-
claration of your gracious encouragements to-
wards me, and the teſtimony of my Gra-
titude. If the publicke view of the world en-
tertayn it with no leſſe welcome, then that
private one of the Stage already has given
it, I ſhall be glad the World owes you the
Thankes: If it meet with too ſevere Con-
ſtruction, I hope your Protection. What
hazards ſoever it ſhall juſtle with, my de-
ſires are it may pleaſure your Lordſhip in
the peruſall, which is the only ambition
he is conſcious of, who is,
My Lord,
Your Honours
humbly devoted:
Richard Brome.
[A2v]
To cenſuring Criticks, on the appro-
ved Comedy, The Antipodes.
IOnſon’s alive! the World admiring ſtands,
And to declare his welcome there, ſhake hands;
Apollo’s Penſioners may wipe their eyes,
And ſtifle their abortive Elegies:
Taylor his Gooſe-quill may abjure againe,
And to make Paper deare, ſcribling refraine;
For ſure there’s cauſe of neither. Ionſon’s ghost
Is not a Tenant i’the Elizian Coaſt:
But vext with too much ſcorne, at your diſpraiſe,
Silently ſtole unto a grove of Bayes;
Therefore bewaile your errours, and entreat
He will returne, unto the former ſeat,
Whence he was often pleas’d, to feed your eare
With the choice dainties of his Theatre;
But I much feare, he’le not be eaſily wonne
To leave his Bower, where griefe, and he alone
Do ſpend their time, to ſee how vainly wee
Accept old toyes, for a new Comedie.
Therefore repaire to him, and praiſe each line
Of his Vulpone, Sejanus, Cateline.
But ſtay, and let me tell you, where he is,
He ſojournes in his Brome’s Antipodes.
A3THE
The Prologue.
[Link] OPinion, which our Author cannot court,
(For the deare daintineſſe of it) has, of late,
From the old way of Playes poſſeſt a Sort
Only to run to thoſe, that carry ſtate
In Scene magnificent and language high;
And Cloathes worth all the reſt, except the Action,
And ſuch are only good thoſe Leaders cry;
And into that beleefe draw on a Faction,
That muſt deſpiſe all ſportive, merry Wit,
Becauſe ſome ſuch great Play had none in it.
[Link] But it is knowne (peace to their Memories)
The Poets late ſublimed from our Age,
Who beſt could underſtand, and beſt deviſe
Workes, that muſt ever live upon the Stage,
Did well approve, and lead this humble way,
Which we are bound to travaile in to night;
And, though it be not trac’d ſo well, as They
Diſcover’d it by true Phœbean light,
Pardon our juſt Ambition, yet, that ſtrive
To keep the weakeſt Branch o’th’ Stage alive.
[Link] I meane the weakeſt in their great eſteeme,
That count all ſlight, that’s under us, or nigh;
And only thoſe for worthy Subjects deeme,
Fetch’d, or reach’d at (at leaſt) from farre, or high:
When low and home-bred Subjects have their uſe,
As well, as thoſe; fetch’d from on high, or farre;
And ’tis as hard a labour for the Muſe
To moove the Earth, as to diſlodge a Starre.
See, yet, thoſe glorious Playes; and let their ſight
Your Admiration moove; theſe your Delight.
[A3v]The
To the Author on his Comedy,
The Antipodes.
STeer’d, by the hand of Fate, ore ſwelling Seas,
Me thought I landed on th’ Antipodes;
Where I was ſtraight a Stranger: For tis thus,
Their feet do tread againſt the tread of us.
My Scull miſtooke: thy Book, being in my hand,
Hurried my Soule to th’ Antipodian ſtrand,
Where I did feaſt my Fancy, and mine Eyes
With ſuch variety of Rarities,
That I perceive thy Muſe frequents ſome ſhade,
Might be a Grove for a Pierian Maide.
Let Jdeots prate; it boots not what they ſay.
Th’ Antipodes to Wit and Learning may
Have ample Priv’ledge: For among that crew,
I know there’s not a man can judge of You.
[A4]The
The Perſons in the Play.
[Link]
| Blaze, an Herauld Painter. |
| Joyleſſe, an old Country Gentleman. |
| Hughball, a Doctor of Phyſicke. |
| Barbara, Wife to Blaze. |
| Martha, Wife to Perigrine. |
| Letoy, a Phantaſticke Lord. |
| Quaylpipe, his Curate. |
| Perigrine, ſonne to Joyleſſe. |
| Diana, wife to Joyleſſe. |
| By-play, a conceited ſervant to Letoy. |
| Trulocke, a cloſe friend to Letoy. |
| Followers of the Lord Letoyes, who are Actors in the |
| By-play. |
[A4v]THE
The Antipodes.
Act. I. Scene I.
Blaze, Ioyleſſe.
[Link] To me, and to the City, Sir, you are welcome,
And ſo are all about you: we have long
Suffer’d in want of ſuch faire Company.
But now that Times calamity has given way
(Thankes to high Providence) to your kinder viſits,
We are (like halfe pin’d wretches, that have lain
Long on the plankes of ſorrow, ſtrictly tyed
To a forc’d abſtinence, from the ſight of friends)
The ſweetlier fild with joy.
Sorrow too much with me to fill one houſe,
In the ſad number of my family.
Bla.Be comforted good Sir, my houſe, which now
You may be pleas’d to call your owne, is large
Enough to hold you all; and for your ſorrowes,
BYou
The Antipodes.
You came to loſe ’hem: And I hope the meanes
Is readily at hand: The Doctor’s comming,
Who, as by Letters, I advertis’d you,
Is the moſt promiſing man to cure your Sonne,
The Kingdome yields; it will aſtoniſh you
To heare the mervailes he hath done in cures
Of ſuch diſtracted ones, as is your ſonne,
And not ſo much by bodily Phyſicke (no
!
He ſends few
Recipes to th’ Apothecaries)
As medicine of the minde, which he infuſes
So skilfully, yet by familiar wayes,
That it begets both wonder and delight
In his obſervers, while the ſtupid patient
Finds health at unawares.
Ioy.You ſpeak well of him:
Yet I may feare, my ſonnes long growne diſeaſe
Is ſuch he hath not met with.
Bla.Then ile tell you Sir,
He cur’d a Country gentleman, that fell mad
For ſpending of his land before he ſold it:
That is: ’twas ſold to pay his debts: All went
That way, for a dead horſe, as one would ſay,
He had not money left to buy his dinner,
Upon that whole-ſale day. This was a cauſe,
Might make a gentleman mad you’ll ſay; and him
It did, as mad as landleſſe Squire could bee.
This Doctor by his art remov’d his madneſſe,
And mingled ſo much wit among his braines,
That, by the over-flowing of it meerely,
He gets and ſpends five hundred pound a yeare now,
As merrily as any Gentleman
In
Darby-ſhire; I name no man. But this
Was pretty well you’ll ſay.
Bla.There was a Lady mad,
I name no Lady: but ſtarke mad ſhe was,
As any in the Country, City, or almoſt
[B1v]Ioy.
The Antipodes.
Tedious and painfull ſtudy: And for what
Ioy.For painting, or new faſhions.
I cannot thinke for the Philoſophers ſtone.
Bla.No, twas to finde a way to love her husband;
Becauſe ſhe did not, and her friends rebuk’d her.
Ioy.Was that ſo hard to find, if ſhe deſir’d it.
Bla.She was ſeven years in ſearch of it, & could not,
Though ſhe conſum’d his whole eſtate by it.
Ioy.Twas he was mad then.
With wit enough to looſe, but mad was ſhe
Untill this Doctor tooke her into cure,
And now ſhe lies as lovingly on a flockebed
With her owne Knight, as ſhe had done on downe
With many others, but
I name no parties,
Yet this was well you’l ſay.
Bla.Then ſir, of Officers, and men of place,
Whoſe ſences were ſo numm’d, they underſtood not
Bribes from dew fees, and fell on premunires,
He has cur’d diverſe, that can now diſtinguiſh,
And know both when, and how to take, of both;
And grow moſt ſafely rich by’t, tother day
He ſet the braines of an Attorney right,
That were quite topſie turvy overturn’d
In a pitch ore the Barre; ſo that (poore man)
For many Moones, he knew not whether he
Went on his heels or’s head, till he was brought
To this rare Doctor, now he walkets again,
As upright in his calling, as the boldeſt
Amongſt ’hem. This was well you’l ſay.
Bla.And then for horne mad Citizens my neigh-
He cures them by the dozens, and we live
As gently with our wives, as Rammes with Ewes.
Ioy.We doe you ſay, were you one of his Patients.
B2Bla.
The Antipodes.
Bla.’Slid he has almoſt catch’d me; No Sir no,
I name no parties
I, But wiſh you merry;
I ſtraine to make you ſo, and could tell forty
Notable cures of his to paſſe the time
Ioy.But pray, has he the art
To cure a husbands Iealouſie?
Bla.Mine ſir he did: ’Sfoot I am catcht againe.
Ioy.But ſtill you name no Party, pray how long,
Good Maſter
Blaze, has this ſo famous doctor
Whom you ſo well ſet out, beene a profeſſor?
Bla.Never in publike: Nor indures the name
Of Doctor, though I call him ſo, but lives
With an odde Lorde in towne, that lookes like no Lord,
My Doctor goes more like a Lord then he.
Ex. Doctor.
O welcome ſir,
I ſent mine owne wife for you:
Ha you brought her home againe?
Act 1. Scen.2.
Blaze, Doctor, Ioylesse.
Doct.She’s in your houſe,
With Gentlewomen, who ſeeme to lodge here.
Bla.Yes ſir, this Gentlemans wife, and his ſonnes wife:
They all ayle ſomething, but his ſonne (tis thought)
Is falling into madneſſe, and is brought
Up by his carefull father to the towne here
To be your patient, ſpeake with him about it.
Doct.How doe you finde him Sir? do’s his diſeaſe
Take him by fits; or is it conſtantly,
And at all times the ſame?
It is onely inclining ſtill to worſe,
As he growes more in dayes; by all the beſt
Conjectures we have met with in the countrey,
Tis found a moſt deepe melancholy.
Doct.Of what yeares is he?
Ioy.Of five and twenty Sir.
Doct.Was it borne with him? is it naturall,
Or accidentall
? have you or his mother
Beene ſo at any time affected?
[B2v]Not
The Antipodes.
Not ſhee unto her grave; nor I, till then,
Knew what a ſadneſſe meant; though ſince,
I have
In my ſonne’s ſad condition, and ſome croſſes
In my late marriage, which at further time
Bla.the old man’s jealous
Of his young wife;
I finde him by the queſtion
Doct.Is your ſonne married?
Ioy.Diverſe yeares ſince; for we had hope a wife
Might have reſtrain’d his travelling thoughts, and ſo
Have beene a meanes to cure him; but it fail’d us.
Doct.What has he in his younger yeares been moſt
Addicted to? what ſtudy? or what practiſe?
Ioy.You have now, Sir, found the queſtion, which
I thinke
Will lead you to the ground of his diſtemper.
Doct.That’s the next way to the cure. Come quickely, quickly.
Ioy.In tender yeares he alwayes lov’d to read
Reports of travailes, and of voyages;
And when young boyes, like him, would tire themſelves
With ſports, and paſtimes, and reſtore their ſpirits
Againe by meate and ſleepe; he would whole dayes
And nights (ſometimes by ſtealth) be on ſuch bookes
As might convey his fancy round the world.
Ioy.When he grew up towards twenty,
His minde was all on fire to be abroad;
Nothing but travaile ſtill was all his aime;
There was no voyage or forraine expedition
Be ſaid to be in hand, but he made ſute
To be made one in it His mother and
My ſelfe oppos’d him ſtill in all, and ſtrongly
Againſt his will, ſtill held him in; and wonne
Him into marriage; hoping that would call
In his extravagant thoughts, but all prevail’d not,
Nor ſtayd him (though at home) from travailing
So farre beyond himſelfe, that now too late,
I wiſh he had gone abroad to meet his fate.
Doct.Well ſir, upon good termes Ile undertake
B3Your
The Antipodes.
Your ſonne: let’s ſee him.
Ioy.Yet there’s more: his wife Sir.
Doct.Ile undertake her too. Is ſhe mad too?
Bla.They’ll ha’ mad children then.
Doct.Hold you your peace.
Ioy.Alas the danger is they will have none,
He takes no joy in her; and ſhe no comfort
In him: for though they have bin three yeeres wed,
They are yet ignorant of the marriage bed.
Doct.I ſhall finde her the madder of the two then.
Ioy.Indeed ſhe’s full of paſſion, which ſhe utters
By the effects, as diverſly, as ſeverall
Objects reflect upon her wandring fancy,
Sometimes in extream weepings, and anon
In vehement laughter; now in ſullen ſilence,
And preſently in loudeſt exclamations.
Doct.Come let me ſee ’hem Sir, ile undertake
Her too: ha’ you any more? how does your wife?
Ioy.Some other time for her.
Her too: and you your ſelfe Sir (by your favour,
And ſome few yellow ſpots, which
I perceive
About your Temples) may require ſome Councell.
Act1. Scene 3.
Enter Barbara.
Bla.So, he has found him.
Ioy.But my ſonne, my ſonne ſir?
Bar.There’s newes too much within,
For any home-bred Chriſtian underſtanding.
Bar.He is in travaile Sir.
Bar.Yes, pray Doctor
Hughball
Play the Man-midwife, and deliver him
Of his huge Timpany of newes; of Monſters,
Pigmies, and Gyants, Apes, and Elephants,
Griffons, and Crocadiles; men upon women,
And women upon men; the ſtrangeſt doings
As farre beyond all Chriſtendome, as tis to’t.
[B3v]Doct.
The Antipodes.
Bar.Beyond the Moone and Starres
I think,
Or mount in
Cornwall either.
Bla.How prettily like a foole ſhe talkes?
And ſhe were not mine owne wife, I could be
Doct.’Tis moſt wondrous ſtrange.
Bar.He talks much of the Kingdome of
Cathaya,
Of one great
Caan, and good man
Preſter John,
(What e’re they be) and ſayes that
Caan’s a Clowne
Vnto the
Iohn he ſpeaks of. And that
Iohn
Dwels up almoſt at Paradice: But ſure his mind
Is in a wilder neſſe: For there he ſayes
Are Geeſe that have two heads a peece, and Hens
That beare more wooll upon their backs than ſheep.
Doct.O
Mandevile, lets to him Lead the way ſir.
Bar.And men with heads like hounds.
Bar.You’ll finde enough within I warrant yee.
Ex. 3.
And here comes the poore mad gentlemans wife,
Ent. Mar.
Almoſt as mad as he: ſhe haunts me all
About the houſe to impart ſomething to me:
Poore heart
I geſſe her griefe, and pitty her.
To keepe a Maiden-head three yeares after Marriage,
Under wed-locke and key, inſufferable! monſtrous,
It turnes into a wolfe within the fleſh,
Not to be fed with Chickens, and tame Pigeons.
J could wiſh maids be warn’d by’t, not to marry
Before they have wit to loſe their Maiden-heads,
For feare they match with men whoſe wits are paſt it.
What a ſad looke, and what a ſigh was there?
Sweet Miſtris
Joyleſſe, how is’t with you now?
Mar.When J ſhall knowe Jle tell, pray tell me firſt,
How long have you beene married?
Bar.Now ſhe is on it. Three yeares forſooth.
Mar.And truely ſo have J, we ſhall agree J ſee.
Mar.No woman merrier, now J have met with one
Of my condition. Three yeares married ſay you, ha, ha, ha,
[B4]Bar.
The Antipodes.
Mar.Three yeares married, Ha, ha, ha.
Bar.Is that a laughing matter?
Mar.Tis juſt my ſtory. And you have had no child,
That’s ſtill my ſtory, Ha, ha, ha.
Bar.Nay I have had two children.
Or does your husband onely tell you ſo,
Take heed o’that, for husbands are deceitfull.
Bar.But I am o’the ſurer ſide, I am ſure
I groan’d for mine and bore ’hem. when at beſt,
He but beleeves he got ’hem.
And you may be deceiv’d, for now Ile tell you,
My husband told me, fac’d me downe and ſtood on’t,
We had three ſonnes, and all great travellers,
That one had ſhooke the great Turke by the beard,
I never ſaw ’hem, nor am I ſuch a foole
To thinke that children can be got and borne,
Train’d up to men, and then ſent out to travell,
And the poore mother never know nor feele
Any ſuch matter; there’s a dreame indeede.
Bar.Now you ſpeake reaſon, and tis nothing but
Your husbands madneſſe that would put that dreame
Mar.He may put dreames into me, but
He nere put child nor any thing towards it yet
To me to making: ſomething ſure belongs
weepe.
To ſuch a worke; for I am paſt a child
My ſelfe to thinke they are found in parſley beds,
Strawberry banks or Roſemary buſhes, though
I muſt confeſſe I have ſought and ſearch’d ſuch places,
Becauſe I would faine have had one.
Mar.Pray tell me, for I thinke no body heares us,
How came you by your babes? I cannot thinke
Your husband got them you.
She is a witch I thinke: why not my huſband,
[B4v]Pray
The Antipodes.
Pray can you charge me with another man?
Mar.Nor with him neither, be not angry pray now.
For were I now to dye,
I cannot gueſſe
What a man do’s in child-getting,
I remember
A wanton mayd once lay with me, and kiſs’d
And clip’t, and clapt me ſtrangely, and then wiſh’d
That I had beene a man to have got her with childe:
What muſt I then ha’ done, or (good now tell me)
What has your husband done to you?
Such a poor peece of innocence, three yeeres married?
Does not your husband uſe to lye with you?
Mar.Yes he do’s uſe to lye with me, but he do’s not
Lye with me to uſe me as ſhe ſhould I feare
Nor doe I know to teach him, will you tell me,
Ile lye with you and practiſe if you pleaſe.
Pray take me for a night or two: or take
My husband and inſtruct him, But one night
Our countrey folkes will ſay, you London wives
Doe not lye every night with your owne husbands.
Bar.Your countrey folkes ſhould have done well to ha’ ſent
Some newes by you, but I truſt none told you there,
We uſe to leave our fooles to lye with mad-men.
Mar.Nay now againe y’are angry.
But rather pitty your ſimplicity.
Come Ile take charge and care of you.
Bar.And wage my skill, againſt my doctors art,
Sooner to eaſe you of theſe dangerous fits,
Then he ſhall rectifie your husbands wits.
Ex.
Mar.Indeed, indeed, I thanke you.
Act. 1. Scene. 5.
Letoy, Blaze.
Let.Why broughtſt thou not mine Armes, and Pedegree
Home with thee
Blaze, mine honeſt Heralds, Painter?
Bla.I have not yet my Lord, but all’s in readineſſe,
According to the Heralds full directions.
Let.But has he gone to the root, has he deriv’d me,
Ex origine, ab antiquo? has he fetch’d me
CFarre
The Antipodes.
Bla.Full foure deſcents beyond
The conqueſt my good Lord, and findes that one
Of your French anceſtry came in with the conqueror.
Let.Jefrey Letoy, twas he, from whom the Engliſh
Letoy’s have our deſcent; and here have tooke
Such footing, that we’ll never out while France
Is France, and England England,
And the Sea paſſable to tranſport a faſhion.
My anceſtors and I have beene beginners
Of all new faſhions in the Court of England
From before
Primo Ricardi Secundi
Bla.I cannot thinke my Lord
They’ll follow you in this though.
I am without a precedent for my humour.
But is it ſpread, and talk’d of in the towne?
Bla.It is my Lord, and laught at by a many.
[Link] I am more beholding to them, then all the reſt:
Their laughter makes
me merry; others mirth,
And not mine owne it is, that feeds me that
Battens me as poore mens coſt do’s Uſurers.
But tell me
Blaze, what ſay they of me, ha?
Bla.They ſay my Lord you look more like a pedlar,
Then like a Lord, and live more like an Emperor.
Let.Why there they ha’ me right, let others ſhine
Abroad in cloth o’bodkin, my broad cloath,
Pleaſes mine eye as well, my body better,
Beſides I’m ſure tis paid for (to their envy)
I buy with ready money: and at home here
With as good meat, as much magnificence,
As coſtly pleaſures, and as rare delights,
Can ſatiſfie my appetite and ſenſes,
As they with all their publique ſhewes, and braveries.
They runne at ring, and tilt ’gainſt one another,
I and my men can play a match at football,
Wraſtle a hanſome fall, and pitch the
barre,
And crack the cudgells, and a pate ſometimes,
[C1v]Twould
The Antipodes.
Twould doe you good to ſee’t.
Let.They hunt the Deere, the Hare, the Fox, the Otter,
Polcates, or Harlots, what they pleaſe, whilſt I
And my mad Grigs, my men can runne at baſe,
And breath our ſelves at Barley-breake, and dancing.
Bla.Yes my Lord i’the countrey when you are there.
Let.And now I am here i’th city, Sir,
I hope
I pleaſe my ſelfe with more choyſe home delights,
Then moſt men of my ranke.
Your houſe in ſubſtance is an Amphitheater
Of exerciſe and pleaſure.
For exerciſes, Fencing, Dancing, Vaulting,
And for delight, Muſique of all beſt kindes;
Stage-playes, and Maſques, are nightly my paſtimes.
And all within myſelfe. My owne men are
My Muſique, and my Actors, J keepe not
A man or boy but is of quality:
The worſt can ſing or play his part o’th’ Violls,
And act his part too in a Comedy.
For which I lay my bravery on their backs;
And where another Lord undoes his followers,
J maintaine mine like Lords. And there’s my bravery.
Hoboyes. A ſervice as for dinner, paſſe over the Stage, borne by
many Servitors richly apparreld, doing honor to Letoy as they
paſſe.
Ex.
Now tell me
Blaze, looke theſe like Pedlers men?
Bla.Rather an Emperors my Lord.
Theſe lads can act the Emperors lives all over,
And Shakeſpeares Chronicled hiſtories, to boot,
And were that
Cæſar, or that Engliſh Earle,
That lov’d a Play and Player ſo well now living,
I would not be out-vyed in my delights.
Let.I love the quality of Playing I, J love a Play withall
My heart, a good one; and a Player that is
C2A good
The Antipodes.
A good one too, with all my heart: As for the Poets,
No men love them, I thinke, and therefore
I write all my playes my ſelfe, and make no doubt
Some of the Court will follow
Me in that too. Let my fine Lords
Talke o’ their Horſe tricks, and their Jockies, that
Can out-talke them. Let the Gallants boaſt
Their May games, Play-games, and their Miſtreſſes,
I love a Play in my plaine cloaths,
I
And laugh upon the Actors in their brave ones.
Ent. Quailp.
Re.My Lord, your dinner ſtayes prepar’d.
Be you as ready with your grace as I
Ex. Quail.
Am for my meate, and all is well.
Blaze we have rambled
From the maine poynt this while, it ſeems by his letter,
My Doctor’s buſie at thy houſe. I know who’s there,
Beſide, give him this Ring, Tell him it wants
A finger: farewell good
Blaze.
Bla.Tell him it wants a finger! My ſmall wit,
Already finds what finger it muſt fit.
Act. 1. Scene 6.
Enter Doctor, Peregrine, a Booke in
his hand, Ioyleſſe, Diana
Doct.Sir I applaud your noble diſpoſition,
And even adore the ſpirit of Travaile in you,
And purpoſe to waite on it through the world,
In which I ſhall but tread againe the ſteps
Per.All the world o’re ha’ you bin already?
Doct.Yes, through, and through:
No Iſle nor Angle in that Neather world,
But I have made diſcovery of: Pray ſir ſit;
And ſir be you attentive, I will warrant
His ſpeedy cure without the helpe of
Gallen,
Hippocrates, Avicen, or
Dioſcorides.
Dia.A rare man: Husband, truely I like his perſon
As well as his rare skill.
[C2v]I doe
The Antipodes.
I doe not like your liking of mens perſons.
Doct.Nay Lady you may ſtay: Heare and admire,
If you ſo pleaſe: But make no interruptions.
Joy.And let no looſer words, or wandring looke
Bewray an intimation of the ſlight
Regard you beare your husband, leſt I ſend you
Upon a further pilgrimage, than he
Feigns to convay my ſonne.
Doct.Doe you thinke ſir, to th’
Antipodes ſuch a journey?
Per.I thinke there’s none beyond it; and that
Mandevile
Whoſe excellent worke this is, was th’ onely man
Doct.Mandevile went farre.
Per.Beyond all Engliſh legges that I can read of.
Doct.What think you ſir of
Drake, our famous Countriman?
Per.Drake was a Dy’dapper to
Mandevile,
Candiſh, and
Hawkins, Furbiſher, all our voyagers
Went ſhort of
Mandevile: But had he reach’d
To this place here—yes here—this wilderneſſe,
And ſeene the trees of the Sunne and Moone, that ſpeake,
And told King
Alexander of his death, he then
Had left a paſſage ope for Travailers:
That now is kept and guarded by wild beaſts,
Dragons, and Serpents, Elephants white and blue
Vnicornes, and Lyons of many colours,
And monſters more as numberleſſe as nameleſſe.
Per.Read here elſe: can you read?
Doct.No truer than I ha’ſeen’t.
Dia.Ha’ you bin there Sir, ha’ you ſeene thoſe trees?
Doct.And talked with ’hem, and taſted of their fruit.
Per.Read here againe then: it is written here,
That you may live foure or five hundred yeere.
Dia.Brought you none of that fruit home with you ſir?
Joy.You would have ſome of’t would you, to have hope
T’out-live your husband by’t.
C3In
The Antipodes.
In hope you might out-live your jealouſie.
Doct.Your patience both I pray; I know the griefe
You both doe labour with, and how to cure it.
Joy.Would I had given you halfe my land ’twere done.
Dia.Would I had given him halfe my love, to ſettle
The tother halfe free from incumbrances
Doct.Doe not thinke it ſtrange ſir:
Ile make your eyes witneſſes of more
Than J relate, if you’ll but travaile with me.
You heare me not deny that all is true
That
Mandevile delivers of his Travailes,
Yet J my ſelfe may be as well beleev’d.
Per.Since you ſpeake reverently of him, ſay on.
Doct.Of
Europe ile not ſpeake, tis too neare home:
Who’s not familiar with the Spaniſh garbe,
Th’ Jtalian ſhrug, French cringe,and German hugge?
Nor will J trouble you with my obſervations
Fetcht from
Arabia, Paphlagonia,
Syria, Theſſalia, Perſia, India,
All ſtill is too neare home: though I have touch’d
The Clouds upon the
Pyrenæan mountaines,
And bin on
Paphos iſle, where I have kiſt
The image of bright
Venus: All is ſtill
Too neare home to be boaſted.
Dia.That I like well in him too, he will not boaſt of kiſſing
Doct.Theſe things in me are poore: they ſound
In a farre travellers eare,
Like the reports of thoſe, that beggingly
Have put out, on returnes from
Edenburgh,
Paris, or
Venice, or perhaps
Madrid,
Whither a
Millaner may with halfe a noſe
Smell out his way: And is not neare ſo difficult,
As for ſome man in debt, and unprotected
To walke from Charing-croſſe to th’ old Exchange.
No, J will pitch no nearer than th’
Antipodes;
That which is fartheſt diſtant, foot to foote
[C3v]Againſt
The Antipodes.
Dia.What with their heeles upwards?
Bleſſe us
! how ſcape they breaking o’ their necks?
Doct.they walke upon firme earth, as we doe here,
And have the Firmament over their heads,
Dia.And yet juſt under us!
Where is hell then? if they whoſe feet are towards us,
At the lower part of the world have heaven too
Beyond their heads, where’s hell?
Without inquiry: Ceaſe your idle queſtions.
Dia.Sure hell’s above ground then in jealous husbands.
Per.What people ſir (J pray proceed) what people
Are they of the
Antipodes? are they not ſuch
As
Mandevile writes of, without heads or necks,
Having their eyes plac’d on their ſhoulders, and
Their mouths amidſt their breaſts?
Though heeles goe upwards, and their feet ſhould ſlip
They have no necks to breake.
Doct.Silence ſweete Lady.
Pray give the gentleman leave to underſtand me.
The people through the whole world of
Antipodes,
In outward feature, language, and religion,
Reſemble thoſe to whom they are ſuppoſite
:
They under
Spaine appeare like
Spaniards,
Under
France French men, under
England Engliſh
To the exterior ſhew: but in their manners,
Their carriage, and condition of life
Extreamly contrary. To come cloſe to you,
What part o’ th’ world’s
Antipodes ſhall J now
Decipher to you, or would you travaile to?
Doct.That is th’
Antipodes of England.
The people there are contrary to us.
As thus; here (heaven be prais’d) the Magiſtrates
Governe the people: there the people rule
[C4]Dia.
The Antipodes.
Dia.There’s pretious bribing then.
Ioy.You’l hold your peace,
Doct.Nay Lady tis by Nature,
Here generally men governe the women.
Ioy.I would they could elſe.
Dia.You will hold your peace.
Doct.But there the women over-rule the men,
If ſome men faile here in their power, ſome women
Slip their holds there. As parents here, and maſters,
Command, there they obey the childe and ſervant.
Dia.But pray Sir, is’t by nature or by art,
That wives oreſway their husbands there
?
Dia.Then art’s above nature, as they are under us.
Degrees of people both in ſex, and quality,
Deport themſelves in life and converſation,
Doe get the men with child: and put the poore fooles
To grievous paine I warrant you in bearing.
Ioy.Into your Chamber, get you in I charge you.
Doct.By no meanes, as you tender your ſonnes good.
No Lady no; that were to make men women,
And women men. But there the maids doe woe
The Batchelors, and tis moſt probable
Upſide-downe Antipodian tricke indeed.
Doct.And then at chriſtenings and goſſips feaſts,
A woman is not ſeene, the men doe all
The tittle-tattle duties, while the women
Hunt, Hawke, and take their pleaſure.
Per.Ha’ they good game I pray Sir?
But by the contraries to ours, for where
We Hawke at Pheaſant, Partrich, Mallard, Heron,
With Goſhawke, Tarſell, Falcon, Laneret;
Our Hawks, become their game, our game their Hawks,
[C4v]And
The Antipodes.
And ſo the like in hunting. There the Deere
Purſue the Hounds, and (which you may thinke ſtrange)
I ha’ ſeene one Sheepe worry a dozen Foxes,
By Moone-ſhine, in a morning before day,
They hunt, trayne-ſents with Oxen, and plow with Dogges.
Dia.Are not their Swannes all blacke, and Ravens white?
Doct.Yes indeed are they; and their Parrets teach
Their Miſtreſſes to talke.
Doct.They keepe their Cats in cages,
From Mice that would devoure them elſe; and birds
Teach ’hem to whiſtle, and cry beware the Rats Puſſe.
But theſe are frivolous nothings. I have knowne
Great Ladyes ride great horſes run at tilt;
At Ring, Races, and hunting matches, while
Their Lords at home have painted, pawned their Plate
And Jewels to feaſt their honourable ſervants.
And there the Merchants wives doe deale abroad
Beyond ſeas, while their husbands cuckold them
Dia.Then there are cuckolds too it ſeemes,
Ioy,Then you conclude here are.
Dia.By heareſay Sir. I am not wiſe enough
To ſpeake it on my knowledge yet.
Doct.What do you laugh, that there is cuckold-making
In the
Antipodes, I tell you Sir,
It is not ſo abhorr’d here as tis held
In reputation there: all your old men
Doe marry girles, and old women boyes,
As generation were to be maintain’d
There’s no ſuch honeſt men there in their world,
DAs
The Antipodes.
As are their Lawyers: they give away
Their practiſe; and t’enable ’hem to doe ſo,
Being all handy-crafts, or Labouring men,
They work (poore hearts full hard) in the vacations,
To give their law for nothing in the terme times.
No fees are taken: Which makes their divines,
Being generally covetous, the greateſt wranglers
In Law ſutes of a kingdome, you have not there
A gentleman in debt, though citizens
Haunt them with cap in hand to take their wares,
Dia.What fine ſport would that be here now!
Doct.All wit and mirth and good ſociety
Is there among the hirelings, clownes, and tradeſmen,
And all their Poets are Puritanes.
Doct.And players too. But they are all the ſobreſt
Preciſeſt people pickt out of a nation.
Doct.She muſt if you can hope for any cure,
Be govern’d Sir: your jealouſie will grow
A worſe diſeaſe than your ſonnes madneſſe elſe,
You are content I take the courſe I told you of
Doct.Say Maſter
Perigrine, will you travaile now
With mee to the
Antipodes, or has not
The journey wearied you in the deſcription.
Per.No I could heare you a whole fortnight, but
A Bowle
Let’s looſe no time, pray talke on as we paſſe.
on the table.
Doct.Firſt, Sir a health to auſpicate our travailes,
Per.Gi’ mee’t. What’s he? One ſent
Act. 1. Scene.7.
Ent. Bla.
Per.I feare from my dead mother, to make ſtop
Bla.My Lord, Sir, underſtands the courſe y’are in,
[Dv]By
The Antipodes.
By your letters he tells mee: and bad me gi’ you
This Ring, which wants a finger here he ſayes.
Doct.No Sir, he brings me word
The Marriner calls away; the winde and tyde
Are faire, and they are ready to weigh anchor,
Hoyſt ſayles, and onely ſtay for us, pray drinke Sir.
Per.A health then to the willing winds and ſeas,
And all that ſteere towards th’
Antipodes.
Ioy.He has not drunke ſo deepe a draught this twelvmonth.
Doct.Tis a deepe draught indeed, and now tis downe,
And carries him downe to the
Antipodes?
Pray take an arme, and ſee him in his cabbin.
Good Lady ſave my Ring that’s fallen there.
Dia.In ſooth a mervailous neate and coſtly one
!
Bla.So, ſo, the Ring has found a finger.
Doct.Come ſir, aboord, aboord, aboord, aboord.
Bla.To bed, to bed, to bed: I know your voyage,
And my deare Lords deare plot, I underſtand,
Whoſe Ring hath paſt here by your ſlight of hand.