A Pleasant Comedie, called Wily Begvilde. The Chiefe Actors be these:
A poore scholler, a rich Foole, and a Knaue at a shifte. At London,
Printed by H.L. for Clement Knight, and are to be solde at his Shop,
in Paules Church-yard, at the signe of the Holy Lambe_. 1606. 4to.

[There were later editions in 1623, 1635, and 1638, all in 4to. That of 1606 is the most correct.

Hawkins, who included this piece in his collection, observes: "Wily Beguiled is a regular and very pleasing Comedy; and if it were judiciously adapted to the manners of the times, would make no contemptible appearance on the modern stage."]

02334" style="margin-top: 2em"> TACTUS solus.

TAC. Tactus, thy sneezing somewhat did portend.
Was ever man so fortunate as I?
To break his shins at such a stumbling-block!
Roses and bays, pack hence[182]: this crown and robe
My brows and body circles and invests;
How gallantly it fits me! sure the slave
Measur'd my head that wrought this coronet.
They lie that say complexions cannot change:
My blood's ennobled, and I am transform'd
Unto the sacred temper of a king.
Methinks I hear my noble parasites
Styling me Caesar or great Alexander;
Licking my feet, and wondering where I got
This precious ointment. How my pace is mended!
How princely do I speak! how sharp I threaten!
Peasants, I'll curb your headstrong impudence,
And make you tremble when the lion roars,
Ye earth-bred worms. O, for a looking-glass!
Poets will write whole volumes of this scorce[183];
Where's my attendants? Come hither, sirrah, quickly;
Or by the wings of Hermes—

SCAENA SEPTIMA.

OLFACTUS, in a garland of bays intermingled with white and red roses upon a false hair, his sleeves wrought with flowers under a damask mantle, over a pair of silk bases; a pair of buskins drawn with ribbon, a flower in his hand.

TACTUS, OLFACTUS.

TAC. Ay me! Olfactus comes; I call'd too soon,
He'll have half part, I fear; what shall I do!
Where shall I run? how shall I shift him off?
[TACTUS wraps up the robe and crown, and sits upon them.

OLF. This is the time, and this the place appointed,
Where Visus promis'd to confer with me.
I think he's there—no, no, 'tis Tactus sure.
How now? what makes you sit so nicely?

TAC. 'Tis past imagination, 'tis so indeed.

OLF. How fast his hands[184] are fixed, and how melancholy he looks!
Tactus! Tactus!

TAC. For this is true, man's life is wondrous brittle.

OLF. He's mad, I think, he talks so idly. So ho, Tactus!

TAC. And many have been metamorphosed
To stranger matters and more uncouth forms.

OLF. I must go nearer him; he doth not hear.

TAC. And yet methinks, I speak as I was wont;
And—

OLF. Tactus, Tactus!

TAC. Olfactus, as thou lov'st me, come not near me.

OLF. Why, art thou hatching eggs? th'art afeard[185] to break them?

TAC. Touch me not, lest thou chance to break my life.

OLF. What's this under thee?

TAC. If thou meddle with me, I am utterly undone.

OLF. Why, man, what ails thee?

TAC. Let me alone, and I'll tell thee;
Lately I came from fine Phantastes' house.

OLF. So I believe, for thou art very foolish.

TAC. No sooner had I parted out of doors[186],
But up I held my hands before my face,
To shield mine eyes from th'light's piercing beams;
When I protest I saw the sun as clear
Through these my palms, as through a perspective.
No marvel; for when I beheld my fingers,
I saw my fingers were transform'd to glass;
Opening my breast, my breast was like a window,
Through which I plainly did perceive my heart:
In whose two concaves[187] I discern'd my thoughts
Confus'dly lodged in great multitudes.

OLF. Ha, ha, ha, ha! why, this is excellent,
Momus himself can find no fault with thee,
Thou'dst make a passing live anatomy;
And decide the question much disputed
Betwixt the Galenists and Aristotle.

TAC. But when I had arriv'd, and set me down
Viewing myself—myself, ay me! was changed,
As thou now seest, to a perfect urinal.

OLF. T'a perfect urinal? O monstrous, monstrous!
Art not mad to think so?

TAC. I do not think so, but I say I am so,
Therefore, Olfactus, come not near, I advise you.

OLF. See the strange working of dull melancholy!
Whose drossy thoughts, drying the feeble brain,
Corrupts the sense, deludes the intellect,
And in the soul's fair table falsely graves
Whole squadrons of fantastical chimeras
And thousand vain imaginations,
Making some think their heads as big as horses,
Some that th'are dead[188], some that th'are turn'd to wolves[189],
As now it makes him think himself all glass.
Tactus, dissuade thyself; thou dost but think so.

TAC. Olfactus, if thou lov'st me, get thee gone;
I am an urinal, I dare not stir
For fear of cracking in the bottom.

OLF. Wilt thou sit thus all day?

TAC. Unless thou help me.

OLF. Bedlam must help thee. What wouldst have me do?

TAC. Go to the city, make a case for me;
Stuff it with wool, then come again and fetch me.

OLF. Ha, ha, ha!
Thou'lt be laughed out of case and countenance.

TAC. I care not. So it must be, or I cannot stir.

OLF. I had best leave troubling him; he's obstinate. Urinal, I leave you, but above all things take heed Jupiter sees you not; for, if he do, he'll ne'er make water in a sieve again; thou'lt serve his turn so fit, to carry his water unto Esculapius. Farewell, Urinal, farewell. [Exit OLFACTUS.

TAC. Speak not so loud; the sound's enough to crack me. What, is he
gone? I an urinal! ha, ha, ha! I protest I might have had my face washed
finely if he had meant to abuse me. I an urinal! ha, ha, ha! Go to,
Urinal; you have 'scaped a fair scouring. Well, I'll away, and get me to
mine own house; there I'll lock up myself fast, playing the chemic,
Augmenting this one crown to troops of angels,
With which gold-winged messengers I mean
To work great wonders, as to build and purchase;
Fare daintily; tie up men's tongues and loose them;
Command their lives, their goods, their liberties,
And captive all the world with chains of gold.
Hey, hey, tery, linkum tinkum.
[He offers to go out, but comes in suddenly amazed.
O Hercules!
Fortune, the queen, delights to play with me,
Stopping my passage with the sight of Visus:
But as he makes hither, I'll make hence,
There's more ways to the wood than one[190].
What, more devils to affright me?
O Diabolo! Gustus comes here to vex me.
So that I, poor wretch, am like
A shuttlecock betwixt two battledoors.
If I run there, Visus beats me to Scylla;
If here, then Gustus blows me to Charybdis.
Neptune hath sworn my hope shall suffer shipwreck.
What shall I say? mine Urinal's too thin
To bide the fury of such storms as these.

SCAENA OCTAVA.

VISUS in a garland of bays, mixed with white and red roses, a light-coloured taffeta mantle striped with silver, and fringed upon green silk bases, buskins, &c. GUSTUS in the same fashion, differing only in colour. TACTUS in a corner of the stage.

VISUS, GUSTUS, TACTUS.

VIS. Gustus, good day.

GUS. I cannot have a bad,
Meeting so fair an omen as yourself.

TAC. Shall I? will't prove? ha! well, 'tis best to venture.
[TACTUS puts on the robes.

GUS. Saw you not Tactus? I should speak with him.

TAC. Perchance so; a sudden lie hath best luck.

VIS. That face is his, or else mine eye's deceiv'd.
Why, how now, Tactus! what, so gorgeous?

GUS. Where didst thou get these fair habiliments?

TAC. Stand back, I charge you, as you love your lives;
By Styx, the first that toucheth me shall die.

VIS. I can discern no weapons. Will he kill us?

TAC. Kill you? not I, but come not near me,
You had best.

VIS. Why, art thou mad?

TAC. Friends, as you love your lives,
Venture not once to come within my reach.

GUS. Why dost threaten so?

TAG. I do not threaten,
But in pure love advise you for the best:
Dare not to touch me, but hence fly apace;
Add wings unto your feet, and save your lives.

VIS. Why, what's the matter, Tactus? prythee, tell me?

TAC. If you will needs jeopard your lives so long,
As hear the ground of my amazedness,
Then for your better safety stand aside.

GUS. How full of ceremonies! sure he'll conjure;
For such like robes magicians use to wear.

VIS. I'll see the end, though he should unlock hell,
And set th'infernal hags at liberty.

TAC. How rash is man on hidden harms[191] to rush!
It was my chance—O chance most miserable!—
To walk that way that to Crumena leads.

GUS. You mean Cremona, a little town hard-by.

TAC. I say Crumena, called Vacua,
A town which doth, and always hath belong'd,
Chiefly to scholars. From Crumena walls
I saw a man come stealing craftily,
Apparell'd in this vesture which I wear;
But, seeing me, eftsoons[192] he took his heels,
And threw his garment from him all in haste,
Which I perceiving to be richly wrought,
Took it me up; but, good, now get you gone,
Warn'd by my harms, and 'scape my misery.

VIS. I know no danger: leave these circumstances.

TAC. No sooner had I put it on my back,
But suddenly mine eyes began to dim,
My joints wex[193] sore, and all my body burn['d]
With most intestine torture, and at length
It was too evident, I had caught the plague.

VIS. The plague! away, good Gustus, let's be gone;
I doubt 'tis true, now I remember me,
Crumena Vacua never wants the plague.

GUS. Tactus, I'll put myself in jeopardy
To pleasure thee.

TAC. No, gentle Gustus,
Your absence is the only thing I wish,
Lest I infect you with my company.

GUS. Farewell. [Exit GUSTUS.

VIS. I willingly would stay to do thee good.

TAC. A thousand thanks; but since I needs must die,
Let it suffice, death only murders me.
O, 'twould augment the dolour of my death,
To know myself the most unhappy bow,
Through which pale death should aim his shafts at you.

VIS. Tactus, farewell; yet die with this good hope, Thy corpse shall be interred as it ought. [Exit VISUS.

TAC. Go, make my tomb, provide my funerals; ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Excellent asses thus to be deluded,
Bewail his death and cruel destinies,
That lives, and laughs your fooleries to scorn.
But where's my crown! O, here: I well deserve
Thus to be crown'd for two great victories!
Ha, ha, ha!
Visus, take care my corpse be well interr'd:
Go make my tomb, and write upon the stone,

Here lies the Sense that living[194] gull'd them all
With a false plague and feigned urinal.

SCAENA NONA.

AUDITUS, TACTUS.

AUD. Tactus, Tactus!

TAC. O Jupiter, 'tis Auditus, all's marred, I doubt: the sly knave hears so far; but yet I'll grope him. How now, Ears[195], what make you here, ha?

AUD. Nay, what make you here, I pray? What were you talking even now of an ass, and a crown, and an urinal, and a plague?

TAC. A plague on you! what, I?

AUD. O, what you!

TAC. O, I had well-nigh forgot; nothing; but I say—

AUD. What?

TAC. That if a man (do you mark, sir?), being sick of the plague (do you see, sir?), had a, a, a—hem, hem (this cold troubles me; it makes me cough sometimes extremely)—had a French crown, sir, (you understand me?) lying by him, and (come hither, come hither), and would not bestow twopence (do you hear?) to buy an urinal (do you mark me?) to carry his water to the physician, hem!

AUD. What of all this?

TAC. I say such a one was a very ass. This was all. I use to speak to myself, when I am alone; but, Auditus, when shall we hear a new set of singing-books? Or the viols? Or the concert of instruments?

AUD. This was not all, for I heard mention of a tomb and an epitaph.

TAC. True, true, I made myself merry with this epitaph upon such a fool's tomb thus a—thus, thus: plague brought this man—foh, I have forgotten—O, thus, plague brought this man (so, so, so), unto his burial, because, because, because (hem, hem)—because he would not buy an urinal. Come, come, Auditus, shall we hear thee play the lyreway or the luteway, shall we? Or the cornet, or any music? I am greatly revived, when I hear.

AUD. Tactus, Tactus, this will not serve; I heard all. You have not found a crown, you? no, you have not!

SCAENA ULTIMA.

TACTUS, AUDITUS, VISUS, GUSTUS, MENDACIO.

TAC. Peace, peace, faith, peace; come hither, hark thee,
Good [Auditus], now.

AUD. I cannot hold, I must needs tell.

TAC. O, do not, do not, do not; come hither.
Will you be a fool?

VIS. Had he not wings upon his feet and shoulders?

MEN. Yes, yes, and a fine wand in his hand,
Curiously wrapped with a pair of snakes.

TAC. Will half content you? pish, 'twill ne'er be known.

GUS. My life, 'twas Mercury.

MEN. I do not know his name;
But this I'm sure, his hat had wings upon't.

VIS. Doubtless 'twas he; but say, my boy, what did he?

MEN. First I beheld him hovering in the air,
And then down stooping with an hundred gyres:[196]
His feet he fixed on Mount Cephalon;[197]
From whence he flew and lighted on that plain,
And with disdainful steps soon glided thither:
Whither arrived, he suddenly unfolds
A gorgeous robe and glittering ornament,
And lays them all upon that hillock:
This done, he wafts his wand, took wing again,
And in a moment vanish'd out of sight.
With that mine eyes 'gan stare, and heart grew cold,
And all my quiv'ring joints with sweat bedew'd:
My heels (methought) had wings as well as his,
And so away I ran; but by the way
I met a man, as I thought, coming thither.

GUS. What marks had he?

MEN. He had a great—what! this is he, this is he.

VIS. What, Tactus?

GUS. This was the plague vex'd him so:
Tactus, your grave gapes for you; are you ready?

VIS. Since you must needs die, do as others do,
Leave all your goods behind you; bequeath
The crown and robe to your executors.

TAC. No such matter; I, like the Egyptian kings,[198]
For the more state will be buried in them.

VIS. Come, come, deliver.
[VISUS snatcheth the crown, and sees letters graven in it.

TAC. What, will you take my purse from me?

VIS. No, but a crown, that's just more than your own.
Ha, what's this? 'tis a very small hand,
What inscription is this?

He of the five that proves himself the best,
Shall have his temples with this coronet blest.

This crown is mine, and mine this garment is;
For I have always been accounted best—

TAC. Next after me—high[199] as yourself at any time:
Besides, I found it first, therefore 'tis mine.

GUS. Neither of yours, but mine as much as both.

AUD. And mine the most of any of you all.

VIS. Give me it, or else—

TAC. I'll make you late repent it—

GUS. Presumptuous as you are—

AUD. Spite of your teeth—

MEN. Never till now. Ha, ha! it works apace. [Aside.
Visus, I know 'tis yours; and yet methinks,
Auditus, you should have some challenge to it;
But that your title, Tactus, is so good,
Gustus, I would swear the coronet were yours:
What, will you all go brawl about a trifle?
View but the pleasant coast of Microcosm,
Is't not great pity to be rent with wars?
Is't not a shame to stain with brinish tears
The smiling cheeks of ever-cheerful peace?
Is't not far better to live quietly,
Than broil in fury of dissension?
Give me the crown, ye shall not disagree,
If I can please you. I'll play Paris' part,
And, most impartial, judge the controversy.

VIS. Sauce-box! go meddle with your lady's fan,
And prate not here.

MEN. I speak not for myself,
But for my country's sole[200] commodity.

VIS. Sirrah, be still.

MEN. Nay, and you be so hot, the devil part you!
I'll to Olfactus, and send him amongst you.
O, that I were Alecto for your sakes!
How liberally would I bestow my snakes!
[Exit MENDACIO.

VIS. Tactus, upon thine honour,
I challenge thee to meet me here,
Strong as thou canst provide, in th'afternoon.

TAC. I undertake the challenge, and here's my hand,
In sign thou shalt be answered.

GUS. Tactus, I'll join with thee, on this condition
That, if we win, he that fought best of us
Shall have the crown, the other wear the robe.

TAC. Give me your hand: I like the motion.

VIS. Auditus, shall we make our forces double
Upon the same terms?

AUD. Very willingly.

VIS. Come, let's away: fear not the victory;
Right's more advantage than an host of soldiers.

[Exeunt omnes.