Act 2. Scene I.
Letoy, Doctor.
Tonight ſaieſt thou my
Hughball?
And if your Play takes to my expectation,
As I not doubt my potion workes to yours,
Your fancy and my cure ſhall be cry’d up
Miraculous. O y’are the Lord of fancy.
Let.I’m not ambitious of that title Sir,
No, the Letoy’s are of Antiquity,
Ages before the fancyes were begot,
D2And
The Antipodes.
And ſhall beget ſtill new to the worlds end.
But are you confident o’your potion doctor?
Doct.Yes and has ſlept theſe twelve houres,
After a thouſand mile an houre out-right,
By ſea and land; and ſhall awake anone
Are all in readineſſe; and I thinke 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 ſpeake to)
That he moves mirth in me ’bove all the reſt.
For I am none of thoſe Poeticke furies,
That threats the Actors life, in a whole play,
That addes a ſillable, or takes away.
If he can frible through, and move delight
Doct.It is that mimick fellow which your Lordſhip
Doct.He will be wondrous apt in my affaire:
For
I muſt take occaſion to interchange,
Diſcourſe with him ſometimes amidſt their Scenes,
T’informe my patient, my mad young travellor
Let.Doe, put him to’t: I uſe’t myſelfe ſometimes.
Doct.I know it is your way.
Let.Well to the buſineſſe.
Haſt wrought the jealous Gentleman, old
Joyleſſe,
To ſuffer his wife to ſee our Comedy.
Doct.She brings your Ring, my Lord, upon her finger,
And he brings her in’s hand. I have inſtructed her
To ſpurre his jealouſie of o’the legges.
Let.And I will helpe her in’t.
Doct.the young diſtracted
Gentlewoman too, that’s ſicke of her virginity,
Yet knowes not what it is; and
Blaze and’s wife
Shall all be your gueſts to night, and not alone
[D2v]Spectators,
The Antipodes.
Spectators, but (as we will carry it) Actor
To fill your Comicke Scenes with double mirth.
Let.Go fetch ’hem then, while I prepare my Actors.
Ex. Doc.
I.This is my beard and haire.
2.My lord appointed it for my part.
3.No, this is for you; and this is yours, this grey one.
Within.
4.Where be the foyles, and Targets for the women?
Let.What a rude coyle is there? But yet it pleaſes me.
I.You muſt not weare that Cloak and Hat.
2.Who told you ſo? I muſt.
Within.
In my firſt Scene, and you muſt weare that robe.
Let.What a noyſe make thoſe knaves? come in one of you:
Are you the firſt that anſwers to that name?
Act 2. Scene 2.
Enter Quaile-pipe, 3 Actors, and Byplay.
Let.Why are not you ready yet?
Qua.I am not to put on my ſhape, before
I have ſpoke the Prologue. And for that my Lord
Let.What I pray with your grave formality?
Qua.I want my Beaver-ſhooes, and Leather-Cap,
To ſpeake the Prologue in; which were appoynted
By your Lordſhips owne direction.
There they be for you; I muſt looke to all.
Qua.Certes my Lord, it is a moſt apt conceit:
The Comedy being the world turn’d upſide-downe,
That the preſenter weare the Capitall Beaver
Upon his feet, and on his head ſhooe-leather.
Let.Trouble not you your head with my conceite,
But minde your part Let me not ſee you act now,
In your Scholaſticke way, you brought to towne wi’yee,
With ſee ſaw ſacke a downe, like a Sawyer;
Nor in a Comicke Scene, play
Hercules furens,
Tearing your throat to ſplit the Audients eares.
And you Sir, you had got a tricke of late,
Of holding out your bum in a ſet ſpeech;
Your fingers fibulating on your breaſt,
D3As
The Antipodes.
As if your Buttons, or your Band-ſtrings were
Helpes to your memory. Let me ſee you in’t
No more I charge you. No, nor you ſir, in
That over-action of the legges I told you of,
Your ſingles, and your doubles, Looke you―thus―
Like one o’th’ dancing Maſters o’the Beare-garden;
And when you have ſpoke, at end of every ſpeech,
Not minding the reply, you turne you round
As Tumblers doe; when betwixt every feat
They gather wind, by firking up their breeches.
Ile none of theſe, abſurdities in my houſe.
But words and action married ſo together,
That ſhall ſtrike harmony in the eares and eyes
Of the ſevereſt, if judicious Criticks.
Qua.My Lord we are corrected.
But you Sir are incorrigible, and
Take licence to your ſelfe, to adde unto
Your parts, your owne free fancy; and ſometimes
To alter, or diminiſh what the writer
With care and skill compos’d: and when you are
To ſpeake to your coactors in the Scene,
You hold interloquutions with the Audients.
Bip.That is a way my Lord has bin allow’d
On elder ſtages to move mirth and laughter.
Let.Yes in the dayes of
Tarlton and
Kempe,
Before the ſtage was purg’d from barbariſme,
And brought to the perfection it now ſhines with.
Then fooles and jeſters ſpent their wits, becauſe
The Poets were wiſe enough to ſave their owne
For profitabler uſes. Let that paſſſe.
To night, ile give thee leave to try thy wit,
In anſwering my Doctor, and his Patient
He brings along with him to our
Antipodes.
By.I 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 thinke he is in the
Antipodes
Indeed, when he is on the Stage among us.
When’t has beene thought by ſome that have their wits,
[D3v]That
The Antipodes.
That all the Players i’ th’Towne were ſunke paſt riſing.
Let.Leave that ſir to th’ event. See all be ready:
Your Muſicke properties, and―――
Onely we want a perſon for a Mute.
Let.Blaze when he comes ſhall ſerve. Goe in.
Ex. Byp.
My Gueſts J heare are comming.
Act 2. Scene 3.
Enter Blaze, Ioyleſſe, Diana, Martha, Barb.
Bla.My Lord, J am become your honours uſher,
To theſe your gueſts. The worthy Mr.
Joyleſſe
With his faire wife, and daughter in law.
And you in the firſt place ſweet Miſtris
Joyleſſe.
You weare my ring J ſee: you grace me in it.
Ioy.His Ring! what Ring? how came ſhe by’t?
Let.J ſent it as a pledge of my affection to you:
For J before have ſeene you, and doe languiſh,
Untill J ſhall enjoy your love.
Let.Next Lady—you— J have a toy for you too.
Mar.My Child ſhall thanke you for it, when
I have one.
I take no joy in toyes ſince
J was marryed.
Let.Prettily anſwer’d
! I make you no ſtranger
Bar.Time was your honour us’d
Me ſtrangely too, as you’ll doe theſe
I doubt not.
Prethee goe in, there is an Actor wanting.
Bla.Is there a part for me? how ſhall
I ſtudy’t?
Let.Thou ſhalt ſay nothing.
Bla.Then if
I doe not act
Nothing as well as the beſt of ’hem, let me be hiſt.
Exit.
Ioy.I ſay reſtore the Ring, and backe with me.
Dia.To whom ſhall
I reſtore it?
Ioy.To the Lord that ſent it.
Dia.Is he a Lord?
I alwayes thought and heard
Ith’ Country, Lords were gallant Creatures. He
Looks like a thing not worth it: tis not his,
[D4]The
The Antipodes.
The Doctor gave it me, and
I will keepe it.
Let.I uſe ſmall verball courteſie Mr.
Joyleſſe
(You ſee) but what
J can in deed ile doe.
You know the purpoſe of your comming, and
I can but give you welcome. If your ſonne
Shall receive eaſe in’t, be the comfort yours,
The credit of’t my Doctors. You are ſad.
Ioy.My Lord I would entreat we may returne;
I feare my wife’s not well.
Let.Returne! pray ſlight not ſo my courteſie.
Dia.Beſides ſir
I am well; and have a minde
(A thankfull one) to taſte my Lords free bounty.
I never ſaw a play, and would be loath
Hath tainted her obedience already:
And ſhould the Play but touch the vices of it,
She’d learne and practiſe ’hem. Let me beſeech
Your Lordſhips reacceptance of the un-
Merited favour that ſhe weares here, and
Your leave for our departure.
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;
J will be plaine wi’yee therefore:
If your haſte
Muſt needs poſt you away, you may depart,
She ſhall not not till the morning for mine honour.
Ioy.Indeed tis a high poynt of honour in
A Lord to keepe a private Gentlemans wife
Dia.J love this plaine Lord better than
All the brave gallant ones, that ere I dream’t on.
Let.Tis time we take our ſeats. So if you’ll ſtay.
Come ſit with us, if not, you know your way.
Ioy.Here are we fallen through the Doctors fingers.
Into the Lords hands. Fate deliver us.
Ex. omnes.
[D4v]Act.
The Antipodes.
Act. 2. Sene 4.
Enter in Sea-gownes and Caps, Doctor, and Pe-
rigrine brought in a chaire by 2 Sailers: Cloaks
and Hats brought in.
Doct.Now the laſt minute of his ſleeping fit
Determines. Raiſe him on his feete. So, ſo:
Reſt him upon mine Arme. Remove that Chaire,
Welcome a ſhore Sir in th’
Antipodes.
Per.Are we arriv’d ſo farre?
Sailers you may returne now to your ſhip.
Ex. Sail.
Per.What worlds of lands and Seas have I paſt over,
Neglecting to ſet downe my obſervations,
A thouſand thouſand things remarkable
Have ſlipt my memory, as if all had beene
Meere ſhadowy phantaſmes, or Phantaſticke dreames.
Doct.We’ll write as we returne Sir: and tis true,
You ſlept moſt part o’ th’ journey hitherward,
The aire was ſo ſomniferous: And twas well
You ſcap’d the Calenture by’t.
Per.But how long doe you thinke I ſlept?
Doct.Eight moneths, and ſome odde dayes,
Which was but as ſo many houres and minutes
Of ones owne naturall Countrey ſleepe.
Doct.Twas nothing for ſo young a Braine.
How thinke you one of the ſeven Chriſtian Champions,
David by name, ſlept ſeven yeares in a Leek-bed.
Per.J thinke I have read it in their famous Hiſtory.
Doct.But what chiefe thing of note now in our Travells
Can you call preſently to mind? Speake like a Traveller.
Per.I doe remember, as we paſt the Verge
O’ th’ upper world, comming downe, down-hill,
The ſetting ſunne then bidding them good night,
Came gliding eaſily downe by us; and ſtrucke
New day before us, lighting us our way;
But with ſuch heate that till he was got farre
Before us, we even melted.
Doct.Well wrought potion. Very well obſerv’d ſir.
But now we are come into a temperate clime
EOf
The Antipodes.
Of equall compoſition of elements
With that of
London; and as well agreeable
Unto our nature, as you have found that aire.
Per.I never was at
London.
This Sir is
AntiLondon. That’s the’ Antipodes
To the grand City of our Nation,
Iuſt the ſame people, language, and Religion,
But contrary in Manners, as I ha’ told you.
Per.I doe remember that relation,
As if you had but given it me this morning.
Doct.Now caſt your Sea weeds off, and do’n freſh garments.
Hearke ſir their Muſicke.
Act 2. Scene 5.
Shift.
Hoboyes. Enter Letoy, Ioyleſſe, Diana, Martha, Barbara, in
Maſques, they fit at the other end of the ſtage.
Let.Here we may ſit, and he not ſee us.
Doct.Now ſee one of the Natives of this Country,
Note his attire, his language, and behaviour.
Enter Quailpipe, Prologue.
Qua.Our farre fetch’d 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 knowes 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 himſelfe; and ſayes the ſtuffe,
If it be vicious, or abſurd enough
Was woven upon his backe. Farre, farre be all
That bring ſuch prejudice mixt with their gall.
This play ſhall no Satyrick Timiſt be
To taxe or touch at either him or thee,
That art notorious. Tis ſo farre below
Things in our orbe, that doe among us flow,
That no degree, from Keyſer to the Clowne,
Shall ſay this vice or folly was mine owne.
Let.This had bin well now, if you had not dreamt
Too long upon your ſillables.
Ex. Prol.
[Ev]Dia.
The Antipodes.
Dia.The Prologue call you this my Lord?
Bar.Tis my Lords Reader, and as good a lad
Out of his function, as I would deſire
To mixe withall in civill converſation.
Let.Yes, Lady, this was Prologue to the Play,
As this is to our ſweet enſuing pleaſures.
Kiſſe.
Joy.Kiſſing indeed is Prologue to a Play,
Compos’d by th’ Divell, and acted by the Children
Of his blacke Revells, may hell take yee for’t.
Mar.Indeed
I am weary, and would faine goe home.
Bar.Indeed but you muſt ſtay, and ſee the play.
Mar.The Play: what play? It is no Childrens play,
Nor no Child-getting play, pray is it?
Bar.You’ll ſee anon. O now the Actors enter.
Flouriſh.
Act 2. Scene 6.
Enter two Sergeants, with ſwords drawne, running
before a Gentleman.
Gent.Why doe you not your office courteous friends?
Let me entreat you ſtay, and take me with you;
Lay but your hands on mee: I ſhall not reſt
untill I be arreſted. A ſore ſhoulder ache
Paines and torments me, till your vertuous hands
1 Ser.You ſhall pardon us.
2 Ser.And I beſeech you pardon our intent,
Which was indeed to have arreſted you
:
But ſooner ſhall the Charter of the City
Be forfeited, then varlets (like our ſelves)
Shall wrong a Gentlemans peace. So fare you well ſir.
Ex.
Runne from a Gentleman (it ſeemes) that would
Act 2. Scene 7.
La.Yonder’s your Maſter,
Enter Old Lady and
Goe take him you in hand, while I fetch breath,
Byplay, like a
Bip.O are you here? my Lady, and my ſelfe
Servingman.
Let.You, and your Lady, you
E2Byp.
The Antipodes.
Byp.For we heard you were
To be arreſted. Pray ſir, who has bail’d you?
I wonder who of all your bold acquaintance
That knowes my Lady durſt baile off her huſband.
Gent.Indeed I was not touch’d.
An end by compoſition, and diſburs’d
Some of my Ladies money for a peace
That ſhall beget an open warre upon you?
Confeſſe it if you have: for ’twill come out.
She’ll ha’ you up you know. I ſpeak it for your good.
Gent.I know’t, and ile entreate my Lady wife
To mend thy wages tother forty ſhillings
A yeare, for thy true care of me.
But now (if thou haſt impudence ſo much,
As face to face, to ſpeak unto a Lady
That is thy wife, and ſupreame head) tell me
At whoſe ſute was it? or upon what action?
Debts
I preſume you have none: For who dares truſt
A Ladyes husband, who is but a Squire,
And under covert barne? it is ſome treſpaſſe――
Anſwer me not till
I finde out the truth.
How darſt thou ſpeake the truth
Before thy wife? ile finde it out my ſelfe.
Dia.In truth ſhe handles him handſomely.
Dia.Yes, and ſuch wives are worthy to be lik’d,
That humour by all meanes.
La.I, thinke
I ha’ found it.
There was a certaine Mercer ſent you ſilkes,
And cloth of gold to get his wife with child;
You ſlighted her, and anſwered not his hopes;
And now he layes to arreſt you; is’t not ſo?
Gent,Indeed my Lady wife tis ſo.
[E2v]La.
The Antipodes.
Be not ingratefull to that honeſt man,
To take his wares, and ſcorne to lye with his wife.
Do’t I command you; what did I marry you for?
The portion that you brought me was not ſo
Aboundant, though it were five thouſand pounds
(Conſidering too the Joincture that I made you)
That you ſhould diſobey me.
Dia.It ſeemes the husbands
In the
Antipodes bring portions, and
The wives make Joinctures.
Dia.And wives, when they are old, and paſt child-bearing,
Allow their youthfull huſbands other women.
Let.Right. And old men give their young wives like licence.
Dia.That I like well. Why ſhould not our old men,
Love their young wives as well?
Ioy.Would you have it ſo?
Let.Peace maſter
Joyleſſe you are too lowd. Good ſtill,
Byp.Doe as my Lady bids, you got her woman
With child at halfe theſe words.
Wife is another thing. Farre be it from
A Gentlemans thought to doe ſo, having a wife
And hand-mayd of his owne that he likes better.
Byp.There ſaid you well; but take heed
I adviſe you
How you love your owne wench, or your owne wife
Dia.Good Antipodian counſell.
La.Goe to that woman, if ſhe prove with childe,
I’ll take it as mine owne.
Doe ſo. But from my houſe I may not ſtray.
Mar.If it be me your wife commends you to,
You ſhall not need to ſtray from your owne houſe.
Bar.Precious
! what doe you meane?
Pray keepe your ſeat
: you’ll put the players out.
Joy.Here’s goodly ſtuffe! Shee’s in the
Antipodes too.
E3Per.
The Antipodes.
La.You know your charge, obey it.
Act. 2. Scene. 8.
Enter wayting woman great bellyed.
Wom.What is his charge? or whom muſt he obey?
Good madam with your wilde authority;
You are his wife, tis true, and therein may
According to our law, rule, and controwle him.
But you muſt know withall, I am your ſervant,
And bound by the ſame law to governe you,
And be a ſtay to you in declining age,
To curbe and qualifie your head-ſtrong will,
Which otherwiſe would ruine you. Moreover,
Though y’are his wife, I am a breeding mother,
Of a deare childe of his; and therein claime
More honor from him then you ought to challenge.
La.Inſooth ſhe ſpeakes but reaſon.
Gent.Pray let’s home then.
(thinke,
Wom.You have ſomething there to looke to, one would
If you had any care. How well you ſaw
Your father at Schoole to day, and knowing how apt
He is to play the Trewant.
Wom.Stand by, and you ſhall ſee.
Act. 2. Scene. 9.
Enter three old men with ſachells, &c.
All 3.Domine, domine duſter.Three knaves in a cluſter, &c.
Gent.O this is gallant paſtime. Nay come on,
Is this your ſchoole? was that your leſſon, ha?
1 Old.Pray now good ſon, indeed, indeed.
You ſhall to ſchoole, away with him; and take
Their wagſhips with him; the whole cluſter of ’hem.
2 Old.You ſhant ſend us now, ſo you ſhant.
3 Old.We be none of your father, ſo we beant.
Gent.Away with ’hem I ſay; and tell their Schoole-miſtris,
What trewants they are, and bid her pay ’hem ſoundly.
[E3v]Byp.
The Antipodes.
Byp.Come, come, ye Gallows-clappers.
Dia.Alaſſe, will no body beg pardon for
Doct.Sir, gentle Sir, a word with you.
Byp.To ſtrangers Sir I can be gentle.
Now marke that fellow, he ſpeakes
Extempore.
Dia.Extempore call you him? he’s a dogged fellow
To the three poore old things there, fie upon him.
Per.Do men of ſuch faire years here go to ſchoole
?
Byp.They would dye dunces elſe.
Per.Have you no young men ſchollers, ſir I pray;
When we have beardleſſe doctors?
Doct.He has wip’d my lips, you queſtion very wiſely Sir.
Byp.So ſir have wee; and many reverend teachers,
Grave counſellors at law; perfect ſtateſmen,
That never knew uſe of Raſor, which may live
For want of wit to looſe their offices.
Theſe were great ſchollers in their youth. But when
Age growes upon men here, their learning waſts,
And ſo decayes; that if they live untill
Threeſcore, their ſons ſend them to ſchoole againe.
They’d dye as ſpeechleſſe elſe as new born children.
Per.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 looſe by’t,
My father when he goes to ſchoole, ſhall anſwer.
Ioy.I am abus’d on that ſide too.
Hold up your heads and thanke the gentleman
Like ſchollers, with your heeles now.
All 3.Gratias, Gratias, Gratias.――Exit.
Dia.Well done ſonne
Peregrine, he’s in’s wits I hope.
Joy.If you loſe yours the while, where’s my advantage?
Dia.And truſt me, twas well done too of
Extempore
To let the poore old children looſe. And now
I looke well on him he’s a proper man.
Ioy.She’ll fall in love with the Actor, and undoe me.
[E4]Dia.
The Antipodes.
Dia.Do’s not his Lady love him, ſweet my Lord?
Let.Love; yes, and lye with him, as her husband do’s
With’s mayd. It is their law in the
Antipodes.
Dia.But we have no ſuch lawes with us.
Ioy.Doe you approve of ſuch a law?
In this caſe, where the man and wife doe lye
With their inferiour ſervants; But in the other,
Where the old Citizen would arreſt the gallant
That tooke his wares and would not lye with’s wife,
There it ſeemes reaſonable, very reaſonable.
Dia.Mak’t your owne 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 looke to have our bargaine?
Now to be gone my Lord, though I leave her
Behinde me; ſhee is mad, and not my wife,
Let.Come; you are mov’d I ſee,
I’ll ſettle all; But firſt, prevaile with you
To taſte my wine and ſweet meats. The Comedians
Shall pauſe the while. This you muſt not deny me.
Exit.
Ioy.I muſt not live here alwaies, that’s my comfort.
Exit.
Per.I thanke you Sir, for the poore mens releaſe,
It was the firſt requeſt that
I have made
Since I came in theſe confines.
To deny ſtrangers nothing: yea, to offer
Of any thing we have, that may be uſefull,
In curteſie to ſtrangers. Will you therefore
Be pleas’d to enter Sir this habitation,
And take ſuch vyands, beverage, and repoſe
As may refreſh you after tedious travailes?
Doct.Thou tak’ſt him right: for I am ſure he’s hungry.
Per.All I have ſeene ſince my arrivall, are
Wonders. But your humanity excells.
Byp.Vertue in the
Antipodes onely dwells.
[E4v]Act.
