ACT TWO
2.1*
[Enter] LETOY [and] DOCTOR.


224[Letoy]*Tonight*, sayest thou, my Hughball?

225DoctorBy all means;
        And if your play takes to my expectation,
        As I not doubt my potion works to yours,
        Your fancy and my cure shall be cried up
        Miraculous. Oh, you’re the lord of fancy.

226LetoyI’m not ambitious of that title, sir.
        No, the Letoys are of antiquity,
        Ages before the fancies were begot,
        And shall beget still new to the world’s ends.
        But are you confident o’your potion, doctor?
        Sleeps the young man?

227DoctorYes, and has slept these twelve hours
        After a thousand mile an hour outright
        By sea and land; and shall awake anon
        In the Antipodes.

228LetoyWell, sir, my actors
        Are all in readiness; and, I think, all perfect
        But one* that never will be perfect in a thing
        He studies; yet he makes such shifts extempore*,
        (Knowing the purpose what he is to speak to)
        That he moves mirth in me ’bove all the rest.
        For I am none of those poetic furies*,
        That threats the actor’s life in a whole play,
        That adds a syllable or takes away.
        If he can fribble through, and move delight
        In others, I am pleased.

229DoctorIt is that mimic fellow, which your lordship
        But lately entertained.

230LetoyThe same.

231DoctorHe will be wondrous apt in my affair:
        For I must take occasion to interchange
        Discourse with him sometimes amidst their scenes,
        T’inform my patient, my mad young traveller,
        In diverse matters.

232LetoyDo. Put him to’t: I use’t myself sometimes.

233DoctorI know it is your way.

234LetoyWell, to the business.
        Hast wrought the jealous gentleman, old Joyless,
        To suffer his wife to see our comedy?

235DoctorShe brings your ring, my lord, upon her finger,
        And he brings her in’s hand. I have instructed her
        To spur his jealousy off o’ the legs*.

236LetoyAnd I will help her in’t.

237DoctorThe young distracted
        Gentle waiting woman too that’s sick of her virginity,
        Yet knows not what it is; and Blaze and’s wife
        Shall all be your guests tonight*, and not alone
        Spectators, but (as we will carry it) actors*
        To fill your comic scenes with double mirth.

238LetoyGo fetch ’em then, while I prepare my actors.DOC[TOR] ex[its].
        Within there ho!

2391 [within]This is my beard and hair.

2402 [within]My lord appointed it for my part.

        This is for you; and this is yours, this grey one.

2424 [within]Where be the foils and targets for the women?*

2431 [within]Here, can’t you see?

244LetoyWhat a rude coil is there!
        But yet it pleases me.

2451 [within]You must not wear
        That cloak and hat.

2462 [within]Who told you so? I must
        In my first scene, and you must wear that robe.

247LetoyWhat a noise make those knaves? Come in one of you.
Enter QUAILPIPE*, [three] actors and BYPLAY.

        Are you the first that answers to that name*?

248QuailpipeMy lord.

249LetoyWhy are not you ready yet?

250QuailpipeI am not to put on my shape before
        I have spoke the prologue. And for that my lord
        I yet want something.

251LetoyWhat, I pray, with your grave formality?

252QuailpipeI want my beaver shoes and leather cap*
        To speak the prologue in*; which were appointed
        By your lordship's own direction.

253LetoyWell, sir, well:   [He fetches them.]*   
        There they be for you; I must look to all.

254QuailpipeCertes, my lord, it is a most apt conceit:
        The comedy being the world turned upside-down
        That the presenter wear the capital beaver
        Upon his feet, and on his head shoe leather.

255LetoyTrouble not you your head with my conceit*,
        But mind your part*. Let me not see you act now
        In your scholastic way you brought to town wi’ye,
        With seesaw sack-a-down, like a sawyer;
        Nor in a comic scene play Hercules Furens*,
        Tearing your throat to split the audients’ ears.
        And you, sir, you had got a trick of late,
        Of holding out your bum in a set speech,
        Your fingers fibulating on your breast,
        As if your buttons or your band-strings were
        Helps to your memory. Let me see you in’t
        No more I charge you. No, nor you, sir, in
        That over-action of the legs I told you of:
        Your singles and your doubles, look you, thus――
        Like one o'th' dancing masters o’the Bear-garden*;
        And when you have spoke, at end of every speech,
        Not minding the reply, you turn you round
        As tumblers do; when betwixt every feat
        They gather wind by firking up their breeches.
        I’ll none of these absurdities in my house,
        But words and action married so together,
        That shall strike harmony in the ears and eyes
        Of the severest, if judicious, critics.

256QuailpipeMy lord, we are corrected.

257LetoyGo, be ready*. [QUAILPIPE and the three actors exit, leaving BYPLAY.]
        But you, sir, are incorrigible and
        Take licence to yourself to add unto
        Your parts your own free fancy; and sometimes
        To alter or diminish what the writer
        With care and skill composed: and when you are
        To speak to your co-actors in the scene,
        You hold interlocutions with the audients*.

258ByplayThat is a way, my lord, has been allowed
        On elder stages to move mirth and laughter.

259LetoyYes in the days of Tarlton* and Kemp*
        Before the stage was purged from barbarism
        And brought to the perfection it now shines with.
        Then fools and jesters spent their wits because
        The poets were wise enough to save their own
        For profitabler uses. Let that pass.
        Tonight I’ll give thee leave to try thy wit
        In answering my doctor and his patient*
        He brings along with him to our Antipodes.

260ByplayI heard of him, my lord. Blaze gave me light
        Of the mad patient, and that he never saw
        A play in’s life. It will be possible
        For him to think he is in the Antipodes
        Indeed, when he is on the stage among us,*
        When’t has been thought by some that have their wits
        That all the players i’ th’ town were sunk past rising*.

261LetoyLeave that, sir, to th’ event. See all be ready:
        Your music, properties, and――

262ByplayAll, my lord.
        Only we want a person for a mute.

263LetoyBlaze, when he comes, shall serve*. Go in.BYP[LAY] ex[its].
        My guests, I hear, are coming.
Enter BLAZE*, JOYLESS, DIANA, MARTHA, BARB[ARA].

264BlazeMy lord, I am become your honour’s usher
        To these your guests. The worthy Master Joyless
        With his fair wife and daughter-in-law.

265LetoyThey’re welcome,
        And you in the first place, sweet Mistress Joyless.
        You wear my ring, I see; you grace me in it.

266Joyless   [Aside]   His ring! What ring? How came she by’t?

267Blaze   [Aside]   ’Twill work.

268LetoyI sent it as a pledge of my affection to you,
        For I before have seen you and do languish
        Until I shall enjoy your love.

269Joyless   [Aside]   He courts her.

270LetoyNext, lady―you―*I have a toy for you too.

271MarthaMy child shall thank you for it, when I have one.
        I take no joy in toys since I was married.

272LetoyPrettily answered! I make you no stranger,
        Kind Mistress Blaze.

273Barbara   [Aside to LETOY]    Time was your honour used
        Me strangely too, as you’ll do these, I doubt not.

274LetoyHonest Blaze,
        Prithee go in; there is an actor wanting.

275BlazeIs there a part for me? How shall I study't?

276LetoyThou shalt say nothing.

277BlazeThen if I do not act
        Nothing as well as the best of ’em, let me be hissed.[BLAZE] exit[s] .

278Joyless   [Aside to DIANA]   I say restore the ring, and back* with me.

279Diana   [Aside to JOYLESS]   To whom shall I restore it?

280Joyless   [Aside to DIANA]   To the lord that sent it.

281Diana   [Aside to JOYLESS]   Is he a lord? I always thought and heard
        I’th’ country, lords were gallant creatures. He
        Looks like a thing not worth it. ’Tis not his.
        The doctor gave it me, and I will keep it.

282LetoyI use small verbal courtesy Master Joyless,
        You see, but what I can in deed, I’ll do.
        You know the purpose of your coming, and
        I can but give you welcome. If your son
        Shall receive ease in’t, be the comfort yours,
        The credit of’t my doctor’s. You are sad.

283JoylessMy lord, I would entreat we may return;
        I fear my wife’s not well.

284LetoyReturn! Pray slight not so my courtesy.

285DianaBesides, sir, I am well; and have a mind
        (A thankful one) to taste my lord’s free bounty.
        I never saw a play, and would be loath
        To lose* my longing now.

286Joyless   [Aside]   The air of London
        Hath tainted her obedience already;
        And should the play but touch the vices of it,
        She’d learn and practise ’em.   [Aloud]   Let me beseech
        Your lordship’s reacceptance of the un-
        Merited favour that she wears here, and
        Your leave for our departure.

287LetoyI will not
        Be so dishonoured; nor become so ill
        A master of my house to let a lady
        Leave it against her will, and from her longing.
        I will be plain wi’ye therefore: if your haste
        Must needs post you away, you may depart;
        She shall not, not till the morning, for mine honour.

288JoylessIndeed ’tis a high point of honour* in
        A lord to keep a private gentleman’s wife
        From him.

289Diana   [Aside]   I love this plain lord better than
        All the brave gallant ones that e’er I dreamt on.

290Letoy’Tis time we take our seats. So: if you’ll stay,
        Come sit with us; if not, you know your way.

291Joyless    [Aside]   Here are we fallen through the doctor’s fingers
        Into the lord’s hands. Fate deliver us.[All exit.]
2.2**
Enter in sea-gowns and caps, DOCTOR and PEREGRINE [who is] brought in a chair by two sailors; cloaks and hats brought in.*

292DoctorNow the last minute of his sleeping fit
        Determines. Raise him on his feet. So, so.
        Rest him upon mine arm. Remove that chair.
        Welcome ashore, sir, in th’ Antipodes.

293PeregrineAre we arrived so far?

294DoctorAnd on firm land.
        Sailors, you may return now to your ship.Sail[ors] ex[it].

295PeregrineWhat worlds of lands and seas have I passed over,
        Neglecting to set down my observations!
        A thousand thousand things remarkable
        Have slipped my memory, as if all had been
        Mere shadowy phantasms or fantastic dreams.

296DoctorWe’ll write as we return, sir; and ’tis true,
        You slept most part o’ th’ journey hitherward,
        The air was so somniferous; and ’twas well
        You ’scaped the calenture by’t.

297PeregrineBut how long do
        You think I slept?

298DoctorEight months and some odd days,
        Which was but as so many hours and minutes
        Of one’s own natural country sleep.

299PeregrineEight months――――*

300Doctor’Twas nothing for so young a brain.
        How think you one of the seven Christian champions*,
        David by name, slept seven years in a leek-bed*.

301PeregrineI think I have read it in their famous history*.

302DoctorBut what chief thing of note now in our travels
        Can you call presently to mind? Speak like a traveller.

303PeregrineI do remember, as we past the verge
        O’ th’ upper world, coming down, down-hill,
        The setting sun then bidding them good night,
        Came gliding easily down by us and struck
        New day before us, lighting us our way;
        But with such heat that, till he was got far
        Before us, we even melted.

304Doctor   [Aside]   Well-wrought potion!    [Aloud]   Very well observed, sir.
        But now we are come into a temperate clime,
        Of equal composition of elements
        With that of London*, and as well agreeable
        Unto our nature, as you have found that air.

305PeregrineI never was at London*.

306DoctorCry you mercy.
        This, sir, is Anti-London. That’s th’ Antipodes
        To the grand city of our nation,
        Just the same people, language, and religion,
        But contrary in manners, as I ha’ told you.

307PeregrineI do remember that relation,
        As if you had but given it me this morning.

308DoctorNow cast your sea weeds off, and don fresh garments.
        Hark, sir, their music.Shift**
Hautboys. Enter LETOY, JOYLESS, DIANA, MARTHA, [and] BARBARA in masks; they sit at the other end of the stage*.

309LetoyHere we may sit, and he not see us.

310DoctorNow see one of the natives of this country.
        Note his attire, his language and behaviour.
Enter QUAILPIPE [as] PROLOGUE.*

311QuailpipeOur far-fetched title over lands and seas,
        Offers unto your view th’ Antipodes.
        But what Antipodes now shall you see?
        Even those that foot to foot ’gainst London be,
        Because no traveller that knows that state
        Shall say we personate or imitate
        Them in our actions; for nothing can
        Almost be spoke, but some or other man
        Takes it unto himself and says the stuff,
        If it be vicious or absurd enough,
        Was woven upon his back. Far, far be all
        That bring such prejudice mixed with their gall.
        This play shall no satiric timist be
        To tax or touch at either him or thee
        That art notorious. ’Tis so far below
        Things in our orb that do among us flow,
        That no degree from kaiser to the clown,
        Shall say this vice or folly was mine own.

312LetoyThis had been well now, if you had not dreamt
        Too long upon your syllables.Prol[ogue] ex[its].

313DianaThe prologue call you this, my lord?

314Barbara’Tis my lord’s reader and as good a lad,
        Out of his function, as I would desire
        To mix withal in civil conversation.

315LetoyYes, lady, this was prologue to the play,
        As this is to our sweet ensuing pleasures.Kiss[es her].

316Joyless   [Aside]   Kissing indeed is prologue to a play
        Composed by th’ devil and acted by the Children
        Of his black Revels. May hell take ye for’t!

317MarthaIndeed I am weary and would fain go home.

318BarbaraIndeed, but you must stay and see the play.

319MarthaThe play? What play? It is no children's play,
        Nor no child-getting play, pray is it?

320BarbaraYou’ll see anon. Oh, now the actors enter.
Flourish.
Enter* two SERGEANTS, with swords drawn, running before a GENTLEMAN.

321GentlemanWhy do you not your office, courteous friends?
        Let me entreat you stay and take me with you.
        Lay but your hands on me. I shall not rest
        Until I be arrested. A sore shoulder-ache*
        Pains and torments me till your vertuous hands
        Do clap or stroke it.

3221 SergeantYou shall pardon us.

3232 SergeantAnd, I beseech you, pardon our intent,
        Which was indeed to have arrested you.
        But sooner shall the charter of the city
        Be forfeited than varlets like ourselves
        Shall wrong a gentleman’s peace. So, fare you well, sir.[They] ex[it].

324GentlemanOh, you’re unkind.

325PeregrinePray, what are those?

326DoctorTwo catchpoles*
        Run from a gentleman, it seems, that would
        Have been arrested.
Enter OLD LADY and BYPLAY, like a servingman*.

327Old LadyYonder’s your master.
        Go, take him you in hand, while I fetch breath.

328Byplay   [To GENTLEMAN]   Oh, are you here? My lady and myself
        Have sought you sweetly.

329LetoyYou and your lady*, you
        Should ha’ said, puppy*.

330ByplayFor we heard you were
        To be arrested. Pray sir, who has bailed you?
        I wonder who of all your bold acquaintance
        That knows my lady durst bail off her husband.

331GentlemanIndeed, I was not touched.

332ByplayHave you not made
        An end by composition, and disbursed
        Some of my lady’s money for a peace
        That shall beget an open war upon you?
        Confess it, if you have, for ’twill come out.
        She’ll ha’ you up, you know. I speak it for your good.

333GentlemanI know’t, and I’ll entreat my lady wife
        To mend thy wages t’other forty shillings*
        A year for thy true care of me.

334Old Lady’Tis well, sir.
        But now, if thou hast impudence so much
        As face to face to speak unto a lady
        That is thy wife and supreme head, tell me
        At whose suit was it? Or upon what action?
        Debts, I presume, you have none, for who dares trust
        A lady’s husband who is but a squire*
        And under covert-barne? It is some trespass――
        Answer me not till I find out the truth.

335GentlemanThe truth is――――

336Old LadyPeace. How dar’st thou speak the truth
        Before thy wife? I’ll find it out myself.

337DianaIn truth, she handles him handsomely.

338JoylessDo you like it?

339DianaYes, and such wives are worthy to be liked
        For giving good example.

340Letoy   [Aside to DIANA]   Good! Hold up
        That humour by all means.

341Old LadyI think I ha’ found it.
        There was a certain mercer sent you silks
        And cloth of gold to get his wife with child;
        You slighted her and answered not his hopes,
        And now he lays to arrest you. Is’t not so?

342GentlemanIndeed, my lady wife, ’tis so.

343Old LadyFor shame!
        Be not ingrateful to that honest man,
        To take his wares and scorn to lie with his wife.
        Do’t I command you. What did I marry you for?
        The portion that you brought me was not so
        Abundant, though it were five thousand pounds
        (Considering too the jointure that I made you)
        That you should disobey me.

344DianaIt seems the husbands
        In the Antipodes bring portions, and
        The wives make jointures.

345JoylessVery well observed.

346DianaAnd wives, when they are old and past child-bearing,
        Allow their youthful husbands other women.

347LetoyRight. And old men give their young wives like licence.

348DianaThat I like well. Why should not our old men
        Love their young wives as well?

349JoylessWould you have it so?

350LetoyPeace, Master Joyless, you are too loud. Good still.*

351ByplayDo as my Lady bids, you got her waiting woman
        With child at half these words.

352GentlemanOh, but another’s
        Wife is another thing. Far be it from
        A gentleman’s thought to do so, having a wife
        And handmaid of his own, that he loves* better.

353ByplayThere said you well. But take heed, I advise you,
        How you love your own wench or your own wife
        Better than other men’s.

354DianaGood Antipodean counsel.

355Old LadyGo to that waiting woman; if she prove with child,
        I’ll take it as mine own.

356GentlemanHer husband would
        Do so. But from my house I may not stray.

357MarthaIf it be me your wife commends you to,
        You shall not need to stray from your own house.
           [She stands]   I’ll go home with you.

358BarbaraPrecious! What do you mean?
        Pray keep your seat: you’ll put the players out.

359JoylessHere’s goodly stuff! She’s in the Antipodes too.

360Peregrine   [Gesturing towards LETOY and his guests]   And what are those?

361DoctorAll Antipodeans.
        Attend, good sir.

362Old LadyYou know your charge, obey it.
Enter WAITING WOMAN*, great-bellied.

363Waiting WomanWhat is his charge? Or whom must he obey,
        Good madam, with your wild authority?
        You are his wife, ’tis true, and therein may
        According to our law, rule and control him.
        But you must know withal, I am your servant
        And bound by the same law to govern you
        And be a stay to you in declining age,
        To curb and qualify your head-strong will,
        Which otherwise would ruin you. Moreover,
        Though you're his wife, I am a breeding mother
        Of a dear child of his; and therein claim
        More honour from him than you ought to challenge.

364Old LadyIn sooth, she speaks but reason.

365GentlemanPray let’s home then.

366Waiting WomanYou have something there to look to, one would think*,
        If you had any care. How well you saw
        Your father at school today, and knowing how apt
        He is to play the truant!*

367GentlemanBut is he not
        Yet gone to school?

368Waiting WomanStand by, and you shall see.
Enter three OLD MEN* with satchels, etc.*

369All 3.Domine, domine duster.
        Three knaves in a cluster, etc.*

370GentlemanOh, this is gallant pastime! Nay, come on,
        Is this your school? Was that your lesson, ha?

3711 Old ManPray now, good son, indeed, indeed.

372GentlemanIndeed,
        You shall to school.   [To Byplay]   Away with him; and take
        Their wagships with him, the whole cluster* of ’em.

3732 Old ManYou shan’t send us now, so you shan’t.

3743 Old ManWe be none of your father, so we bain’t.

375GentlemanAway with ’em, I say; and tell their school-mistress
        What truants they are, and bid her pay ’em soundly.

376All 3.Oh! Oh! Oh!

377ByplayCome, come, ye gallows-clappers.

378DianaAlas, will nobody beg pardon for
        The poor old boys?

379Doctor   [He gestures to Byplay]   Sir, gentle sir, a word with you.

380ByplayTo strangers, sir, I can be gentle.

381LetoyGood.
        Now mark that fellow: he speaks extempore.

382DianaExtempore call you him? He’s a dogged fellow
        To the three poor old things there. Fie upon him!

383PeregrineDo men of such fair* years here go to school?

384ByplayThey would die dunces else.

385PeregrineHave you no young men scholars, sir, I pray,
        When we have beardless doctors?

386DoctorHe has wiped
        My lips. You question very wisely, sir.

387ByplaySo, sir, have we; and many reverend teachers,
        Grave counsellors at law, perfect statesmen,
        That never knew use of razor, which may live
        For want of wit to lose their offices.
        These were great scholars in their youth. But when
        Age grows upon men here, their learning wastes
        And so decays that if they live until
        Threescore, their sons send them to school again.
        They’d die as speechless else as new-born children.

388Peregrine’Tis a wise nation; and the piety
        Of the young men most rare and commendable.
        Yet give me, as a stranger, leave to beg
        Their liberty this day; and what they lose by’t,
        My father, when he goes to school, shall answer.

389JoylessI am abused on that side too.

390Byplay’Tis granted.
        Hold up your heads and thank the gentleman
        Like scholars; with your heels now*.

391All 3.Gratias, gratias, gratias.――The Old Men exit

392DianaWell done, son Peregrine. He’s in’s wits, I hope.

393JoylessIf you lose yours the while, where’s my advantage?

394DianaAnd trust me, ’twas well done too of Extempore
        To let the poor old children loose. And now
        I look well on him, he’s a proper man.

395Joyless   [Aside]   She’ll fall in love with the actor, and undo me.

396DianaDoes not his lady love him, sweet my lord?

397LetoyLove? Yes, and lie with him, as her husband does
        With’s maid. It is their law in the Antipodes.

398DianaBut we have no such laws with us.

399JoylessDo you
        Approve of such a law?

400DianaNo; not so much
        In this case, where the man and wife do lie
        With their inferior servants; but in the other,
        Where the old citizen would arrest the gallant
        That took his wares and would not lie with’s wife,
        There it seemes reasonable, very reasonable.

401JoylessDoes it?

402DianaMak’t your own case: you are an old man;
        I love a gentleman; you give him rich presents
        To get me a child, because you cannot. Must not
        We look to have our bargain?

403JoylessGive me leave
        Now to be gone, my lord, though I leave her
        Behind me. She is mad and not my wife,
        And I may leave her.

404LetoyCome; you are moved, I see.
        I’ll settle all. But first, prevail with you
        To taste my wine and sweetmeats. The comedians
        Shall pause the while. This you must not deny me.[LETOY, DIANA, MARTHA and BARBARA] ex[it].*

405JoylessI must not live here* always, that’s my comfort.[JOYLESS] exit[s]

406PeregrineI thank you, sir, for the poor men’s release*.
        It was the first request that I have made
        Since I came in these confines.

407Byplay’Tis our custom
        To deny strangers nothing; yea, to offer
        Of any thing we have that may be useful
        In courtesy to strangers. Will you therefore
        Be pleased to enter, sir, this habitation
        And take such viands, beverage and repose
        As may refresh you after tedious travels?

408DoctorThou tak’st him right: for I am sure he’s hungry.

409PeregrineAll I have seen since my arrival are
        Wonders. But your humanity excels.

410ByplayVirtue in the Antipodes only dwells.[PEREGRINE, DOCTOR and BYPLAY exit.]

Edited by Richard Cave