Albumazar
by John Tomkis
W. Carew Hazlitt
A Select Collection of Old English Plays
Originally published by Robert Dodsley in the year 1744
Fourth Edition
Highlights:
Alb. Come, brave mercurials, sublim'd in cheating;
My dear companions, fellow-soldiers
I' th' watchful exercise of thievery:
Shame not at your so large profession,
No more than I at deep astrology;
For in the days of old, Good morrow, thief,
As welcome was received, as now your worship.
The Spartans held it lawful, and the Arabians;
So grew Arabia felix, Sparta valiant...
Your patron, Mercury, in his mysterious character
Holds all the marks of the other wanderers,
And with his subtle influence works in all,
Filling their stories full of robberies.
Most trades and callings must participate
Of yours, though smoothly gilt with th' honest title
Of merchant, lawyer, or such like—the learned
Only excepted, and he's therefore poor.
Har. And yet he steals, one author from another.
This poet is that poet's plagiary.
And he a third's, till they end all in Homer.
Alb. And Homer filch'd all from an Egyptian priestess,
The world's a theatre of theft. Great rivers
Rob smaller brooks, and them the ocean;
And in this world of ours, this microcosm,
Guts from the stomach steal, and what they spare,
The meseraics filch, and lay't i' the liver:
Where, lest it should be found, turn'd to red nectar,
'Tis by a thousand thievish veins convey'd,
And hid in flesh, nerves, bones, muscles, and sinews:
In tendons, skin, and hair; so that, the property
Thus alter'd, the theft can never be discover'd.
Now all these pilf'ries, couch'd and compos'd in order,
Frame thee and me. Man's a quick mass of thievery.
Ron. Most philosophical Albumazar!
Har. I thought these parts had lent and borrowed mutual.
Alb. Say, they do so: 'tis done with full intention
Ne'er to restore, and that's flat robbery.
Therefore go on: follow your virtuous laws,
Your cardinal virtue, great necessity;
Wait on her close with all occasions;
Be watchful, have as many eyes as heaven,
And ears as harvest: be resolv'd and impudent:
Believe none, trust none; for in this city
(As in a fought field, crows and carcases)
No dwellers are but cheaters and cheatees.
Ron. If all the houses in the town were prisons,
The chambers cages, all the settles stocks,
The broad-gates, gallowses, and the whole people
Justices, juries, constables, keepers, and hangmen,
I'd practise, spite of all; and leave behind me
A fruitful seminary of our profession,
And call them by the name of Albumazarians...
Alb. Why, bravely spoken:
Fitting such generous spirits! I'll make way
To your great virtue with a deep resemblance
Of high astrology. Harpax and Ronca,
List to our project: I have new-lodg'd a prey
Hard by, that (taken) is, so fat and rich,
'Twill make us leave off trading, and fall to purchase...
'Tis a rich gentleman, as old as foolish;
The poor remnant of whose brain, that age had left him,
The doting love of a young girl hath dried:
And, which concerns us most, he gives firm credit
To necromancy and astrology...
Pandolfo is the man...
Then Furbo sings this song.
Bear up thy learned brow, Albumazar;
Live long, of all the world admir'd,
For art profound and skill retir'd,
To cheating by the height of star:
Hence, gipsies, hence; hence, rogues of baser strain,
That hazard life for little gain:
Stand off and, wonder, gape and gaze afar
At the rare skill of great Albumazar...
Ron. Sir, you must know my master's heavenly brain,
Pregnant with mysteries of metaphysics,
Grows to an embryo of rare contemplation
Which, at full time brought forth, excels by far
The armed fruit of Vulcan's midwif'ry,
That leap'd from Jupiter's mighty cranium...
With a wind-instrument my master made,
In five days you may breathe ten languages,
As perfect as the devil or himself...
The great Albumazar, by wondrous art,
In imitation of this perspicil,
Hath fram'd an instrument that magnifies
Objects of hearing, as this doth of seeing;
That you may know each whisper from Prester John
Against the wind, as fresh as 'twere delivered
Through a trunk or Gloucester's list'ning wall...
Ron. Sir, this is called an autocousticon.
Pan. Autocousticon!
Why, 'tis a pair of ass's ears, and large ones.
Ron. True; for in such a form the great Albumazar
Hath fram'd it purposely, as fitt'st receivers
Of sounds, as spectacles like eyes for sight....
Cri. What 'strologer?
Pan. The learned man I told thee,
The high Almanac of Germany; an Indian
Far beyond Trebisond and Tripoli,
Close by the world's end: a rare conjuror
And great astrologer. His name, pray, sir?
Ron. Albumazarro Meteoroscopico.
Cri. A name of force to hang him without trial.
Pan. As he excels in science, so in title.
He tells of lost plate, horses, and stray'd cattle
Directly, as he had stol'n them all himself.
Cri. Or he or some of his confederates....
Alb. Ronca, the bunch of planets new found out,
Hanging at the end of my best perspicil,
Send them to Galileo at Padua:
Let him bestow them where he please. But the stars,
Lately discover'd 'twixt the horns of Aries,
Are as a present for Pandolfo's marriage,
And hence styl'd Sidera Pandolfaea....
My almanac, made for the meridian
And height of Japan, give't th' East India Company;
There may they smell the price of cloves and pepper,
Monkeys and china dishes, five years ensuing.
And know the success of the voyage of Magores;
For, in the volume of the firmament,
We children of the stars read things to come,
As clearly as poor mortals stories pass'd
In Speed or Holinshed. The perpetual motion
With a true 'larum in't, to run twelve hours
'Fore Mahomet's return, deliver it safe
To a Turkey factor: bid him with care present it
From me to the house of Ottoman...
Pan. Why stare you?
Are you not well?
Alb. I wander 'twixt the poles
And heavenly hinges, 'mongst excentricals,
Centres, concentrics, circles, and epicycles,
To hunt out an aspect fit for your business....
Now, then, declining from Theourgia,
Artenosaria Pharmacia rejecting
Necro-puro-geo-hydro-cheiro-coscinomancy,
With other vain and superstitious sciences,
We'll anchor at the art prestigiatory,
That represents one figure for another,
With smooth deceit abusing th' eyes of mortals....
And, since the moon's the only planet changing,
For from the Neomenia in seven days
To the Dicotima, in seven more to the Panselinum,
And in as much from Plenilunium
Thorough Dicotima to Neomenia,
'Tis she must help us in this operation...
Why, here's a noble prize, worth vent'ring for.
Is not this braver than sneak all night in danger,
Picking of locks, or hooking clothes at windows?
Here's plate, and gold, and cloth, and meat, and wine,
All rich and eas'ly got....
Trin. Give me a looking-glass
To read your skill in these new lineaments.
Alb. I'd rather give you poison; for a glass,
By secret power of cross reflections
And optic virtue, spoils the wond'rous work
Of transformation; and in a moment turns you,
Spite of my skill, to Trincalo as before.
We read that Apuleius was by a rose
Chang'd from an ass to man: so by a mirror
You'll lose this noble lustre, and turn ass.
I humbly take my leave; but still remember
T' avoid the devil and a looking-glass.
Newborn Antonio, I kiss your hands....
How? not a single share of this great prize,
That have deserv'd the whole? was't not my plot
And pains, and you mere instruments and porters?
Shall I have nothing?
Ron. No, not a silver spoon.
Fur. Nor cover of a trencher-salt.
Har. Nor table-napkin.
Alb. Friends, we have kept an honest truth and faith
Long time amongst us: break not the sacred league,
By raising civil theft: turn not your fury
'Gainst your own bowels. Rob your careful master!
Are you not asham'd?
Ron. 'Tis our profession,
As yours astrology. "And in the days of old,
Good morrow, thief, as welcome was receiv'd,
As now Your worship." 'Tis your own instruction.
Fur. "The Spartans held it lawful, and th' Arabians,
So grew Arabia happy, Sparta valiant."
Har. "The world's a theatre of theft: great rivers
Rob smaller brooks; and them the ocean."
Alb. Have not I wean'd you up from petty larceny,
Dangerous and poor, and nurs'd you to full strength
Of safe and gainful theft? by rules of art
And principles of cheating made you as free
From taking as you went invisible;
And do ye thus requite me? this the reward
For all my watchful care?
Ron. We are your scholars,
Made by your help and our own aptness able
To instruct others. 'Tis the trade we live by.
You that are servant to divine astrology,
Do something worth her livery: cast figures,
Make almanacs for all meridians.
Fur. Sell perspicils and instruments of hearing:
Turn clowns to gentlemen; buzzards to falcons,
'ur-dogs to greyhounds; kitchen-maids to ladies.
Har. Discover more new stars and unknown planets:
Vent them by dozens, style them by the names
Of men that buy such ware. Take lawful courses,
Rather than beg.
Alb. Not keep your honest promise?
Ron. "Believe none, credit none: for in this city
No dwellers are but cheaters and cheatees."
Alb. You promis'd me the greatest share.
Ron. Our promise!
If honest men by obligations
And instruments of law are hardly constrain'd
T' observe their word, can we, that make profession
Of lawless courses, do't?
Alb. Amongst ourselves!
Falcons, that tyrannise o'er weaker fowl,
Hold peace with their own feathers.
Har. But when they counter
Upon one quarry, break that league, as we do.
Alb. At least restore the ten pound in gold I lent you.
Ron. "'Twas lent in an ill second, worser third,
And luckless fourth:" 'tis lost, Albumazar.
Fur. Saturn was in ascension, Mercury
Was then combust, when you delivered it.
'Twill never be restor'd.
Ron. "Hali, Abenezra,
Hiarcha, Brachman, Budda Babylonicus,"
And all the Chaldees and the Cabalists,
Affirm that sad aspect threats loss of debts.
Har. Frame by your azimuth Almicantarath,
An engine like a mace, whose quality
Of strange retractive virtue may recall
Desperate debts, and with that undo serjeants.
Alb. Was ever man thus baited by's own whelps?
Give me a slender portion, for a stock
To begin trade again.
Ron. 'Tis an ill course,
And full of fears. This treasure hath enrich'd us,
And given us means to purchase and live quiet
Of th' fruit of dangers past. When I us'd robbing,
All blocks before me look'd like constables,
And posts appear'd in shape of gallowses;
Therefore, good tutor, take your pupil's counsel:
'Tis better beg than steal; live in poor clothes
Than hang in satin.
Alb. Villains, I'll be reveng'd,
And reveal all the business to a justice!
Ron. Do, if thou long'st to see thy own anatomy.
Alb. This treachery persuades me to turn honest.
Fur. Search your nativity; see if the Fortunates
And Luminaries be in a good aspect,
And thank us for thy life. Had we done well,
We had cut thy throat ere this.
Alb. Albumazar,
Trust not these rogues: hence, and revenge.
-- Albumazar, by John Tomkis
[L]ong before the ninth century the chronological system of the Hindus was as complete, or rather, perfectly the same as it is now; for Albumazar, who was contemporary with the famous Almamun, and lived at his court at Balac or Balkh, had made the Hindu antiquities his particular study. He was also a famous astronomer and astrologer, and had made enquiries respecting the conjunctions of the planets, the time of the creation of the world, and its duration, for astrological purposes; and he says, that the Hindus reckoned from the Flood to the Hejira 720,634,442,715 days, or 3725 years.* [See Bailly's Astron. Anc. p. 30. and Mr. Davis's Essay in the second volume of the Asiatick Researches, p. 274.]
Here is a mistake, which probably originates with the transcriber or translator, but it may be easily rectified. The first number, though somewhat corrupted, is obviously meant for the number of days from the creation to the Hejira; and the 3725 years are reckoned from the beginning of the Cali-yug to the Hejira. It was then the opinion of Albumazar, about the middle of the ninth century, that the aera of the Cali-yug coincided with that of the Flood. He had, perhaps, data which no longer exist, as well as Abul-Fazil in the time of Akbar. Indeed, I am sometimes tempted to believe, from some particular passages in the Puranas, which are related in the true historical style, that the Hindus have destroyed, or at least designedly consigned to oblivion, all genuine records, as militating against their favourite system. In this manner the Romans destroyed the books of Numa, and consigned to oblivion the historical books of the Etrurians, and I suspect also those of the Turdktani in Spain....
Megasthenes was a native of Persia, and enjoyed the confidence of Sibyrtius* [Arrian, B. 5., p. 203.], governor of Arachosia, (now the country of Candahar and Gazni,) on the part of Seleucus. Sibyrtius sent him frequently on the embassies to Sandrocuptos. When Seleucus nvaded India, Megasthenes enjoyed also the confidence of that monarch, who sent him, in the character of ambassador, to the court of the king of Prachi. We may safely conclude, that Megasthenes was a man of no ordinary abilities, and as he spent the greatest part of his life in India, either at Candahar or in the more interior parts of it; and, as from his public character, he must have been daily conversing with the most distinguished persons in India, I conceive, that if the Hindus, of that day, had laid claim to so high an antiquity, as those of the present, he certainly would have been acquainted with their pretensions, as well as with those of the Egyptians and Chaldaeans; but, on the contrary, he was astonished to find a singular conformity between the Hebrews and them in the notions about the beginning of things, that is to say, of ancient history. At the same time, I believe, that the Hindus, at that early period, and, perhaps, long before, had contrived various astronomical periods and cycles, though they had not then thought of framing a civil history, adapted to them. Astrology may have led them to suppose so important and momentous an event as the creation must have been connected with particular conjunctions of the heavenly bodies; nor have the learned in Europe been entirely free from such notions. Having once laid down this position, they did not know where to stop; but the whole was conducted in a most clumsy manner, and their new chronology abounds with the most gross absurdities; of this, they themselves are conscious, for, though willing to give me general ideas of their chronology, they absolutely forsook me, when they perceived my drift in a stricter investigation of the subject.
The loss of Megathenes' works is much to be lamented. From the few scattered fragments, preserved by the ancients, we learn that the history of the Hindus did not go back above 5042 years. The MSS. differ; in some we read 6042 years; in others 5042 and three months, to the invasion of India by Alexander. Megasthenes certainly made very particular enquiries, since he noticed even the months. Which is the true reading, I cannot pretend to determine; however, I inclined believe, it is 5042, because it agrees best with the number of years assigned by Albumazar, as cited by Mr. Bailly, from the creation to the flood. This famous astronomer, whom I mentioned before, had derived his ideas about the time of the creation and of the flood, from the learned Hindus he had consulted; and He assigns 2226 years, between what the Hindus call the last renovation of the world, and the flood. This account from Megasthenes and Albumazar, agrees remarkably well with the computation of the Septuagint. I have adopted that of the Samaritan Pentateuch, as more conformable to such particulars as I have found in the puranas; I must confess, however, that some particular circumstances, if admitted, seem to agree best with the computations of the Septuagint: besides, it is very probable, that the Hindus, as well as ourselves, had various computations of the times we are speaking of.
-- On the Chronology of the Hindus, by Captain Francis Wilford, Asiatic Researches, Vol. V, P. 241, 1799
Albumazar, also spelled Albumasar, orAbū Maʿshar, (born Aug. 10, 787, Balkh, Khorāsān [now in Afghanistan]—died March 9, 886, al-Wāsit, Iraq), leading astrologer of the Muslim world, who is known primarily for his theory that the world, created when the seven planets were in conjunction in the first degree of Aries, will come to an end at a like conjunction in the last degree of Pisces.
Albumazar’s reputation as an astrologer was immense, both among his contemporaries and in later times. He was the archetype of the knavish astrologer in the play Lo astrologo (1606) by the Italian philosopher and scientist Giambattista della Porta. This play was the basis for Albumazar by Thomas Tomkis, which was revived by the English poet John Dryden in 1668. Albumazar’s principal works include Kitāb al-Madkhal al-Kabīr ʿalā ʿilm aḥkām al-nujūm (“Great Introduction to the Science of Astrology”), Kitāb al-qirānāt (“Book of Conjunctions”), and Kitāb taḥāwīl sinī al-ʿālam (“Book of Revolutions of the World-Years”).
-- Albumazar, by Britannica
The play was specially commissioned by Trinity College, Cambridge to entertain King James I during his 1615 visit to the University....
The protagonist of the play is based on a historical figure named Ja'far ibn Muhammad Abu Ma'shar al-Balkhi, known in the West as Albumazar; he was a ninth-century mathematician and philosopher who also worked as an astrologer ... Tomkis based his dramatic treatment on the play L'Astrologo by Giambattista della Porta, a work first published in Venice in 1606. Tomkis's play also shows debts to Ben Jonson's The Alchemist and Shakespeare's The Tempest (the character name Trincalo in Tomkis's play derives from Trinculo in Shakespeare's).
-- Albumazar, by Wikipedia
EDITIONS.
(1.) Albumazar. A Comedy presented before the Kings Maiestie at Cambridge, the ninth of March, 1614. By the Gentlemen of Trinitie Colledge. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes for Walter Burre, and are to be sold at his Shop, in Pauls Church-yard. 1615. 4o.
(2.) Albumazar. A Comedy presented before the Kings Maiesty at Cambridge. By the Gentlemen of Trinity Colledge. Newly revised and corrected by a speciall Hand. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes. 1634. 4o.
[There is a third 4o printed in 1668, with an epilogue by Dryden.]
[REEDS PREFACE.]
[John] Tomkis, [or Tomkins, son of Thomas Tomkins, a celebrated musician of the reign of James I.], the author of this play, was of Trinity College, Cambridge.
In what part of the kingdom he was born, and what became of him after he quitted the University, are all circumstances alike unknown. That no memorials should remain of a person to whom the world is obliged for a performance of so much merit as "Albumazar" is allowed to possess, cannot but create surprise, and at the same time will demonstrate that genius is not always sufficient to excite the attention of contemporaries or the curiosity of posterity. Dryden [whose ignorance of our earlier literature is well known] not only seems to have been unaware to whom the world owed this piece, but also the time in which it was first represented. He has without any authority asserted that Ben Jonson—
"Chose this
As the best model of his masterpiece.
Subtle was got by our Albumazar,
That Alchymist by this Astrologer;
Here he was fashion'd, and, we may suppose,
He lik'd the fashion well who wore the cloaths."
But in this particular he was certainly mistaken. The "Alchemist" was printed in 1612, and "Albumazar" was not performed until the year 1614, as will appear from the following particulars:—
"King James," says a writer in the Gentleman's Magazine for May 1756, p. 224, "made a progress to Cambridge" and other parts in the winter of the year 1614, as is particularly taken notice of by Rapin, vol. ii. p. 156, who observes that the play called 'Ignoramus' was then acted before his Majesty at Cambridge, and gave him infinite pleasure. I found in the library of Sir Edward Deering a minute in manuscript of what passed at Cambridge for the five days the king stayed there, which I shall here transcribe, for it accords perfectly with the account given by the historian, both of the king's progress and the play entitled "Ignoramus," and at the same time will afford us the best light to the matter in hand:—
"On Tuesday the 7th of March 1614, was acted before the King, in Trinity College Hall—
"1. Æmilia: A Latin Comedy, made by Mr Cecill Johannis.
"On Wednesday night—
"2. Ignoramus the Lawyer[220]: Latine and part English. Composed by Mr Ruggle Clarensis.
"On Thursday—
"3. Albumazar the Astronomer, in English. By Mr Tomkis, Trinit.
"On Friday—
"4. Melanthe[221]: A Latin Pastoral. Made by Mr [S.] Brookes (mox doctor) Trinitatis.
"On the next Monday—
"5. The Piscatory, an English Comedy, was acted before the University, in King's College, which Master Fletcher of that College had provided, if the King should have tarried another night."
Part of the above account is confirmed in a letter from John Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carlton, at Turin, dated 16th March 1614, lately printed in "Miscellaneous State Papers, from 1501 to 1726," i. 395: "The King and Prince lay at Trinity College, where the plays were represented; and the hall so well ordered for room, that above 2000 persons were conveniently placed. The first night's entertainment was a comedy, and acted by St John's men, the chief part consisting of a counterfeit Sir Edward Ratcliffe, a foolish tutor of physic, which proved but a lean argument; and, though it were larded with pretty shows at the beginning and end, and with somewhat too broad speech for such a presence, yet it was still dry. The second night was a comedy of Clare Hall, with the help of two or three good actors from other houses, wherein David Drummond, in a hobby-horse, and Brakin the recorder of the town, under the name of Ignoramus, a common lawyer, bare great parts. The thing was full of mirth and variety, with many excellent actors (among whom the Lord Compton's son, though least, was not worst), but more than half marred with extreme length. The third night was an English comedy called Albumazar, of Trinity College's action and invention; but there was no great matter in it, more than one good clown's part. The last night was a Latin Pastoral, of the same house, excellently written, and as well acted, which gave great contentment, as well to the King as to the rest."
After the Restoration, "Albumazar" was revived, and Mr Dryden wrote a prologue to it, which is printed in every edition of his works.
Although it does not appear to have been upon the list of acting plays, yet the reputation which it had obtained induced Mr Ralph to build upon it a comedy which, after ten years' application, was performed at Drury Lane in 1744, under the title of "The Astrologer." It was acted, however, only one night, when the receipts of the house amounted but to twenty-one pounds. On the second night, the manager was obliged to shut up his doors for want of an audience. (See advertisement prefixed to the play.)
It cannot be denied that "Albumazar" has not been a favourite play with the people in general. About the year 1748, soon after Mr Garrick became manager of Drury Lane Theatre, he caused it to be revived, and gave it every advantage which could be derived from the assistance of the best performers; but though admirably acted, it does not appear to have met with much success. It was again revived at the same theatre in 1773, with some alterations, and was again coldly received, though supported by the best comic performers of the times. The piece, on this revival, received some alterations from the pen of Mr Garrick, and was published in 8o, 1773.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Albumazar, an astrologer.
Ronca,}
Harpax, } thieves.
Furbo,}
Pandolfo, an old gentleman.
Cricca, his servant.
Trincalo, Pandolfo's farmer.
Armellina, Antonio's Maid.
Lelio, Antonio's son.
Eugenio, Pandolfo's son.
Flavia, Antonio's daughter.
Sulpitia, Pandolfo's daughter.
Bevilona, a courtesan.
Antonio, an old gentleman.
THE PROLOGUE.
The brightness of so great and fair a presence,
They say, strikes cold amazement. But I feel
Contrary effects. For from the gracious centre
O' the honourable assembly some secret power
Inflames my courage; and methinks I am grown
Taller by th' virtue of this audience.
And yet, thus rais'd, I fear there's no retiring.
Ladies, whose beauties glad the whole assembly,
Upon your favours I impose my business.
If't be a fault to speak this foreign language,
(For Latin is our mother tongue) I must entreat you
To frame excuses for us; for whose sake
We now speak English. All the rest we hope
Come purposely to grace our poor endeavours,
As we to please. In whose fair courtesy
We trust, not in our weak ability.
ALBUMAZAR.
ACT I, SCENE 1.
Enter Albumazar, Harpax, Ronca.
Alb. Come, brave mercurials, sublim'd in cheating;
My dear companions, fellow-soldiers
I' th' watchful exercise of thievery:
Shame not at your so large profession,
No more than I at deep astrology;
For in the days of old, Good morrow, thief,
As welcome was received, as now your worship.
The Spartans held it lawful, and the Arabians;
So grew Arabia felix, Sparta valiant.
Ron. Read on this lecture, wise Albumazar.
Alb. Your patron, Mercury, in his mysterious character
Holds all the marks of the other wanderers,
And with his subtle influence works in all,
Filling their stories full of robberies.
Most trades and callings must participate
Of yours, though smoothly gilt with th' honest title
Of merchant, lawyer, or such like—the learned
Only excepted, and he's therefore poor.
Har. And yet he steals, one author from another.
This poet is that poet's plagiary.
And he a third's, till they end all in Homer.
Alb. And Homer filch'd all from an Egyptian priestess,
The world's a theatre of theft. Great rivers
Rob smaller brooks, and them the ocean;
And in this world of ours, this microcosm,
Guts from the stomach steal, and what they spare,
The meseraics filch, and lay't i' the liver:
Where, lest it should be found, turn'd to red nectar,
'Tis by a thousand thievish veins convey'd,
And hid in flesh, nerves, bones, muscles, and sinews:
In tendons, skin, and hair; so that, the property
Thus alter'd, the theft can never be discover'd.
Now all these pilf'ries, couch'd and compos'd in order,
Frame thee and me. Man's a quick mass of thievery.
Ron. Most philosophical Albumazar!
Har. I thought these parts had lent and borrowed mutual.
Alb. Say, they do so: 'tis done with full intention
Ne'er to restore, and that's flat robbery.
Therefore go on: follow your virtuous laws,
Your cardinal virtue, great necessity;
Wait on her close with all occasions;
Be watchful, have as many eyes as heaven,
And ears as harvest: be resolv'd and impudent:
Believe none, trust none; for in this city
(As in a fought field, crows and carcases)
No dwellers are but cheaters and cheatees.
Ron. If all the houses in the town were prisons,
The chambers cages, all the settles stocks,
The broad-gates, gallowses, and the whole people
Justices, juries, constables, keepers, and hangmen,
I'd practise, spite of all; and leave behind me
A fruitful seminary of our profession,
And call them by the name of Albumazarians.
Har. And I no less, were all the city thieves
As cunning as thyself.
Alb. Why, bravely spoken:
Fitting such generous spirits! I'll make way
To your great virtue with a deep resemblance
Of high astrology. Harpax and Ronca,
List to our project: I have new-lodg'd a prey
Hard by, that (taken) is, so fat and rich,
'Twill make us leave off trading, and fall to purchase.
Har. Who is't? speak quickly.
Ron. Where, good Albumazar?
Alb. 'Tis a rich gentleman, as old as foolish;
The poor remnant of whose brain, that age had left him,
The doting love of a young girl hath dried:
And, which concerns us most, he gives firm credit
To necromancy and astrology.
Enter Furbo.
Sending to me, as one, that promise both.
Pandolfo is the man.
Har. What, old Pandolfo?
Alb. The same: but stay, yon's Furbo, whose smooth brow
Shines with good news, and's visage promises
Triumphs and trophies to's.
[Furbo plays.
Ron. On my life
He has learnt out all; I know it by his music.
Then Furbo sings this song.
Bear up thy learned brow, Albumazar;
Live long, of all the world admir'd,
For art profound and skill retir'd,
To cheating by the height of star:
Hence, gipsies, hence; hence, rogues of baser strain,
That hazard life for little gain:
Stand off and, wonder, gape and gaze afar
At the rare skill of great Albumazar.
Fur. Albumazar,
Spread out thy nets at large, here's fowl abundance:
Pandolfo's ours; I understand his business,
Which I filch'd closely from him, while he reveal'd
T' his man his purposes and projects.
Alb. Excellent!
Fur. Thanks to this instrument: for, in pretence
Of teaching young Sulpitia, th' old man's daughter,
I got access to th' house, and while I waited
Till she was ready, overheard Pandolfo
Open his secrets to his servant. Thus 'tis:
Antonio, Pandolfo's friend and neighbour,
Before he went to Barbary, agreed
To give in marriage——
Alb. Furbo, this is no place
Fit to consider curious points of business:
Come, let's away, I'll hear't at large above.
Ronca, stay you below, and entertain him
With a loud noise, of my deep skill in art;
Thou know'st my rosy modesty cannot do it.
Harpax, up you, and from my bedchamber,
Where all things for our purposes are ready,
Second each beck and nod, and word of ours.
You know my meaning?
Har. Yes, yes.
Fur. Yes, sir.
[Furbo goes out singing, Fa la la, Pandolfo's ours.
SCENE II.
Ronca, Pandolfo, Cricca.
Ron. There's old Pandolfo, amorous as youthful May,
And grey as January: I'll attend him here.
Pan. Cricca, I seek thy aid, not thy cross counsel;
I am mad in love with Flavia, and must have her:
Thou spend'st thy reasons to the contrary,
Like arrows 'gainst an anvil: I love Flavia,
And must have Flavia.
Cri. Sir, you have no reason;
She's a young girl of sixteen, you of sixty.
Pan. I have no reason, nor spare room for any.
Love's harbinger hath chalk'd upon my heart,
And with a coal writ on my brain, for Flavia;
This house is wholly taken up for Flavia.
Let reason get a lodging with her wit:
Vex me no more, I must have Flavia.
Cri. But, sir, her brother Lelio, under whose charge
She's now after her father's death, sware boldly,
Pandolfo never shall have Flavia.
Pan. His father, ere he went to Barbary,
Promis'd her me: who, be he live or dead,
Spite of a list of Lelios, Pandolfo
Shall enjoy Flavia.
Cri. Sir, y' are too old.
Pan. I must confess, in years about threescore,
But in tough strength of body four-and-twenty,
Or few months less. Love of Young Flavia,
More powerful than Medea's drugs, renews
All decay'd parts of man: my arteries,
Blown full with youthful spirits, move the blood
To a new business: my wither'd nerves grow plump
And strong, longing for action. Hence, thou poor prop
Of feebleness and age! walk with such sires,
[Throws away his staff.]
As with cold palsies shake away their strength,
And lose their legs with cureless gouts. Pandolfo
New-moulded is for revels, masques and music. Cricca,
String my neglected lute, and from my armoury
Scour my best sword, companion of my youth,
Without which I seem naked.
Cri. Your love, sir, like strong water
To a deplor'd sick man, quicks your feeble limbs
For a poor moment; but, after one night's lodging,
You'll fall so dull and cold, that Flavia
Will shriek, and leap from bed as from a sepulchre.
Shall I speak plainer, sir? she'll cuckold you—
Alas! she'll cuckold you.
Pan. What, me! a man of known discretion;
Of riches, years, and this grey gravity?
I'll satisfy'r with gold, rich clothes, and jewels.
Cri. Were't not far fitter urge your son Eugenio
To woo her for himself?
Pan. Cricca, begone!
Touch no more there: I will and must have Flavia.
Tell Lelio, if he grant m' his sister Flavia,
I'll give my daughter to him in exchange.
Begone, and find me here within this half-hour.
SCENE III
Ronca, Pandolfo.
Ron. 'Tis well that servant's gone: I shall the easier
Wind up his master to my purposes.
Pan. Sure, this some novice of th' artillery,
That winks and shoots: sir, prime your piece anew,
The powder's wet.
[Knocks at the door.
Ron. A good ascendant: bless me, sir, are you frantic?
Pan. Why frantic? are not two knocks the lawful courses
To open doors and ears?
Ron. Of vulgar men and houses.
Pan. Whose lodging's this? is't not the astrologer's?
Ron. His lodging! no: 'tis the learn'd frontisterion
Of most divine Albumazar.
Pan. Good sir,
If the door break, a better shall redeem it.
Ron. How! all your land, sold at a hundred years' purchase,
Cannot repair the damage of one poor rap:
To thunder at the frontisterion
Of great Albumazar!
Pan. Why, man, what harm?
Ron. Sir, you must know my master's heavenly brain,
Pregnant with mysteries of metaphysics,
Grows to an embryo of rare contemplation
Which, at full time brought forth, excels by far
The armed fruit of Vulcan's midwif'ry,
That leap'd from Jupiter's mighty cranium.
Pan. What of all this?
Ron. Thus: one of your bold thunders may abortive,
And cause that birth miscarry, that might have prov'd
An instrument of wonders, greater and rarer
Than Apollonius the magician wrought.
Pan. Are you your master's countryman?
Ron. Yes; why ask you?
Pan. Then must I get an interpreter for your language.
Ron. You need not;
With a wind-instrument my master made,
In five days you may breathe ten languages,
As perfect as the devil or himself.
Pan. When may I speak with him?
Ron. When't please the stars.
He pulls you not a hair, nor pares a nail,
Nor stirs a foot, without due figuring
The horoscope. Sit down awhile, and't please you,
I see the heavens incline to his approach.
Pan. What's this, I pray you?
Ron. An engine to catch stars,
A mace to arrest such planets as have lurk'd
Four thousand years under protection
Of Jupiter and Sol.
Pan. Pray you, speak English.
Ron. Sir, 'tis a perspicil, the best under heaven:
With this I'll read a leaf of that small Iliad
That in a walnut-shell was desk'd, as plainly
Twelve long miles off, as you see Paul's from High-gate.
Pan. Wonderful workman of so rare an instrument!
Ron. 'Twill draw the moon so near, that you would swear
The bush of thorns in't pricks your eyes: the crystal
Of a large arch multiplies millions,
Works more than by point-blank, and by refractions
Optic and strange searcheth, like the eye of truth,
All closets that have windows. Have at Rome!
I see the pope, his cardinals and his mule,
The English college and the Jesuits,
And what they write and do.
Pan. Let me see, too.
Ron. So far you cannot: for this glass is fram'd
For eyes of thirty; you are nigh threescore.
But for some fifty miles 'twill serve you,
With help of a refractive glass that's yonder.
For trial, sir; where are you now?
Pan. In London.
Ron. Ha' you found the glass within that chamber?
Pan. Yes.
Ron. What see you?
Pan. Wonders! wonders! I see, as in a landscape,
An honourable throng of noble persons,
As clear as I were under the same roof:
Seems by their gracious brows and courteous looks
Something they see, which if it be indifferent,
They'll fav'rably accept: if otherwise,
They'll pardon: who or what they be, I know not.
Ron. Why, that's the court at Cambridge, forty miles hence.
What else?
Pan. A hall thrust full of bare heads, some bald, some bush'd,
Some bravely branch'd.
Ron. That's the university,
Larded with townsmen. Look you there, what now?
Pan. Who? I see Dover Pier, a man now landing.
Attended by two porters, that seem to groan
Under the burden of two loads of paper.