Naut. By your favour, Dr. Possum, a collar of brawn! I affirm, he is better to be taken inwardly than a collar of brawn.
Fos. An excellent medicine! he is hot in the first-degree, and exceeding powerful in some diseases of women.
Naut. Right, Dr. Fossile; for your Asphaltion.
Pos. Pice-Asphaltus, by your leave.
Naut. By your leave, doctor Possum, I say, Asphaltion.
Pos. And I positively say, Pice-Asphaltus.
Naut. If you had read Dioscorides or Pliny —
Poss. I have read Dioscorides. And I do affirm Pice-Asphaltus.
Foss. Be calm, Gentlemen. Both of you handle this argument with great learning, judgment, and perspicuity. For the present, I beseech you to concord, and turn your speculations on my alligator.
Poss. The skin is impenetrable even to a sword.
Naut. Dr. Possum I will show you the contrary.
[Draws his sword.
Poss. In the mean time I will try the mummy with this knife, on the point of which you shall smell the pitch, and be convinc’d that it is the Pice-Asphaltus.
[Takes up a rusty knife.
Foss. Hold, Sir: You will not only deface my mummy, but spoil my Roman sacrificing-knife.
Enter Townley.
Town. I must lure them from this experiment, or we are discover’d.
[Aside.
[She looks through a telescope.
What do I see! most prodigious! a star as broad as the moon in the day-time!
[The doctors go to her.
Poss. Only a halo about the sun, I suppose.
Naut. Your suppositions, doctor, seem to be groundless. Let me make my observation.
[Nautilus and Possum struggle to look first.
Town. Now for your escape:
[To Plotwell and Underplot.
[They run to the door, but find it lock’d.
Underp. What an unlucky dog I am!
Town. Quick. Back to your posts. Don’t move, and rely upon me. I have still another artifice.
[They run back to their places.
[Exit Townley.
Naut. I can espy no celestial body but the sun.
Poss. Brother Nautilus, your eyes are somewhat dim; your sight is not fit for astronomical observations.
Foss. Is the focus of the glass right? hold gentlemen, I see it; about the bigness of Jupiter.
Naut. No phenomenon offers itself to my speculation.
Poss. Point over yonder chimney. Directly south.
Naut. Thitherward, begging your pardon, Dr. Possum, I affirm to be the north.
Foss. East.
Poss. South.
Naut. North. Alas! what an ignorant thing is vanity! I was just making a reflection on the ignorance of my brother Possum, in the nature of the crocodile.
Poss. First, brother Nautilus, convince yourself of the composition of the mummy.
Naut. I will insure your alligator from any damage. His skin I affirm once more to be impenetrable.
[draws his sword.
Poss. I will not deface any hieroglyphick.
[Goes to the mummy with the knife.
Foss. I never oppose a luciferous experiment. It is the beaten highway to truth.
[Plotwell and Underplot leap from their places; the doctors are frighted.]
Foss. Speak, I conjure thee. Art thou the ghost of some murder’d Egyptian monarch?
Naut. A rational question to a mummy! But this monster can be no less than the devil himself, for crocodiles don’t walk.
Enter Townley and Clinket.
[Townley whispers Clinket.
Foss. Gentlemen, wonder at nothing within these walls; for ever since I was married, nothing has happen’d to me in the common course of human life.
Clink. Madam, without a compliment, you have a fine imagination. The masquerade of the mummy and crocodile is extremely just; I would not rob you of the merit of the invention, yet since you make me the compliment, I shall be proud to take the whole contrivance of this masquerade upon myself. [To Townley.] Sir, be acquainted with my masqueraders.
[To Fossile.
Foss. Thou female imp of Appollo, more mischievous than Circe, who fed gentlemen of the army in a hog’s-stye! What mean you by these gambols? this mummy, this crocodile?
Clink. Only a little mummery, uncle?
Fos. What an outragious conceit is this! had you contented yourself with the metamorphosis of Jupiter, our skill in the classicks might have prevented our terror.
Clink. I glory in the fertility of my invention the more, that it is beyond the imagination of a pagan deity. Besides, it is form’d upon the vraysemblance; for I know you had a mummy and a crocodile to be brought home.
Fos. Dr. Nautilus is an infirm tender gentleman; I wish the sudden concussion of his animal spirits may not kindle him into a fever. I myself, I must confess, have an extreme palpitation.
Clink. Dear uncle, be pacified. We are both of us the votaries of our great master Appollo. To you he has assign’d the art of healing: Me he has taught to sing; why then should we jangle in our kindred faculties?
Fos. Appollo, for ought I know, may be a very fine person; but this I am very sure of, that the skill he has given all his physicians is not sufficient to cure the madness of his poets.
Pos. Hark ye, brother Fossile? Your Crocodile has proved a human creature, I wish your wife may not prove a crocodile.
Naut. Hark ye, brother Fossile! Your mummy, as you were saying, seemeth to be hot in the first degree, and is powerful in some diseases of women.
[Exit Nautilus and Possum.
Fos. You diabolical performers of my niece’s masquerade, will it please you to follow those gentlemen?
Clink. Nay, Sir, you shall see them dance first.
Fos. Dance! the devil! bring me hither a spit, a fire-fork, I’ll try whether the monsters are impenetrable or no.
Plotw. I hope, Sir, you will not expose us to the fury of the mob, since we came here upon so courteous a design.
Foss. Good courteous Mr. Mummy, without more ceremony, will it please you to retire to your subterraneous habitation. And you Mr. Crocodile, about your business this moment, or you shall change your Nile for the next horse-pond.
Clink. Spare my masqueraders.
Underp. Let it never be said that the famous Dr. Fossile, so renowned for his charity to monsters, should violate the laws of hospitality, and turn a poor alligator naked into the street.
Foss. Deposite your exuviæ then, and assume your human shape.
Underp. For that I must beg your excuse. A gentleman would not chuse to be known in these frolicks.
Foss. Then out of my doors, here footman, out with him; out, thou hypocrite, of an alligator.
[Underplot is turn’d out.
Sir, the respect I have for catacombs and pyramids, will not protect you.
[A noise of mob within.
Enter Prue.
Prue. Sir, Sir, lock your doors, or else all your monsters will run home again to the Indies. Your crocodile yonder has made his escape; if he get but to Somerset water-gate, he is gone for ever.
[Exit Prue.
Enter a Footman.
Foot. The herbwoman swore she knew him to be the devil, for she had met him one dark night in St. Pulchre’s church-yard; then the monster call’d a coach, methought with the voice of a christian; but a sailor that came by said he might be a crocodile for all that, for crocodiles could cry like children, and was for killing him outright, for they were good to eat in Egypt, but the constable cry’d take him alive, for what if he be an Egyptian, he is still the king’s subject.
Ex. footman.
[A noise of mob within.
Enter Prue
Prue. Then he was hurry’d a way by the mob. A bull-dog ran away with fix joints of his tail, and the claw of his near foot before: At last by good fortune, to save his life, he fell in with the Hockley in the Hole bull and bear; the master claim’d him for his monster, and so he is now attended by a vast mob,
very solemnly marching to Hockley in the Hole, with the bear in his front, the bull in his rear, and a monkey upon each shoulder.
Town. Mr. Mummy, you had best draw the curtains of your chair, or the mob’s respect for the dead will scarce protect you.
[Exit Plotwell in a chair.
Clink. My concern for him obliges me to go see that he gets off safe, lest any further mischief befalls the persons of our masque.
[Exit Clinket.
Fos. Sweetly, Horace. Nunquam satis, and so forth. A man can never be too cautious. Madam, sit down by me. Pray how long is it since you and I have been married?
Town. Near three hours, Sir.
Fos. And what anxieties has this time produc’d? the dangers of divorce! calumniatory letters! lewd fellows introduc’d by my niece! groundless jealousies on both sides! even thy virginity put to the touch-stone! but this last danger I plung’d thee in myself; to leave thee in the room with two such robust young fellows.
Town. Ay, with two young fellows! but my dear, I know you did it ignorantly.
Fos. This is the first blest minute of repose that I have enjoy’d in matrimony. Dost thou know the reason, my dear, why I have chosen thee of all womankind?
Town. My face, perhaps.
Fos. No.
Town. My wit?
Fos. No.
Town. My virtue and good humour.
Fos. No. But for the natural conformity of our constitutions. Because thou art hot and moist in the third degree, and I myself cold and dry in the first.
Town. And so nature has coupled us like the elements.
Fos. Thou hast nothing to do but to submit thy constitution to my regimen.
Town. You shall find me obedient in all things.
Foss. It is strange, yet certain, that the intellects of the infant depend upon the suppers of the parents. Diet must be prescrib’d.
Town. So the wit of one’s posterity is determin’d by the choice of one’s cook.
Foss. Right. You may observe how French cooks, with their high ragousts, have contaminated our plain English understandings. Our supper to night is extracted from the best authors. How delightful is this minute of tranquility! my soul is at ease. How happy shalt thou make me! thou shalt bring me the finest boy!
[A knocking at the door,
No mortal shall enter these doors this day. [knocking again.] Oh, it must be the news of poor lady Hippokekoana’s death. Poor woman! such is the condition of life, some die, and some are born, and I shall now make some reparation for the mortality of my patients by the fecundity of my wife. My dear thou shalt bring me the finest boy!
Enter footman.
Foot. Sir, here’s a seaman from Deptford must needs speak with you.
Foss. Let him come in. One of my retale Indian merchants, I suppose, that always brings me some odd thing.
Enter sailor with a child.
What hast thou brought me, friend, a young drill?
Sail. Look ye d’ye see, master, you know best whether a monkey begot him.
Foss. A meer human child.
Town. Thy carelessness, Sarsnet, has exposed me, I am lost and ruin’d. O heav’n! heav’n! No, impudence assist me.
[Aside.
Foss. Is the child monstrous? or dost thou bring him here to take physick?
Sail. I care not what he takes so you take him.
Foss. What does the fellow mean?
Sail. Fellow me no fellows. My name is Jack Capstone of Deptford, and are not you the man that has the raree-show of oyster-shells and pebble-stones?
Fos. What if I am?
Sail. Why, then my invoice is right, I must leave my cargo here.
Town. Miserable woman that I am! how shall I support this fight! thy bastard brought into thy family as soon as thy bride!
Fos. Patience, patience, I beseech you. Indeed I have no posterity.
Town. You lascivious brute you.
Fos. Passion is but the tempestuous cloud that obscures reason; be calm and I’ll convince you. Friend, how come you to bring the infant hither?
Sail. My wife, poor woman, could give him suck no longer, for she died yesterday morning. There’s a long account, master. It was hard to trace him to the fountain-head. I steer’d my course from lane to lane, I spoke to twenty old women, and at last was directed to a ribbon-shop in Covent-Garden, and they sent me hither, and so take the bantling and pay me his clearings.
[Offers him the child.
Fos. I shall find law for you, sirrah. Call my neighbour Possum, he is a justice of peace, as well as a physician.
Town. Call the man back. If you have committed one folly, don’t expose yourself by a second.
Sail. The gentlewoman says well. Come, master, we all know that there is no boarding a pretty wench, without charges one way or other; you are a doctor, master, and have no surgeons bills to pay; and so can the better afford it.
Town. Rather than you should bring a scandal on your character, I will submit to be a kind mother-in-law.
Enter Justice Possum, and Clerk.
Fos. Mr. justice Possum, for now I must so call you, not brother Possum; here is a troublesome fellow with a child, which he would leave in my house.
Pos. Another man’s child? he cannot in law.
Fos. It seemeth to me to be a child unlawfully begotten.
Pos. A bastard! who does he lay it to?
Fos. To our family.
Pos. Your family, quatenus a family, being a body collective, cannot get a bastard. Is this child a bastard, honest friend?
Sail. I was neither by when his mother was show’d, nor when she was unladen; whether he belong to a fair trader, or be run goods, I cannot tell: In short here I was sent, and here I will leave him.
Pos. Dost then know his mother, friend?
Sail. I am no midwife, master; I did not see him born.
Pos. You had best put up this matter, doctor. A man of your years, when he has been wanton, cannot be too cautious.
Fos. This is all from the purpose. I was married this morning at seven; let any man in the least acquainted with the powers of nature, judge whether that human creature could be conceiv’d and brought to maturity in one forenoon.
Pos. This is but talk, doctor Fossile. It is well for you, though I say it, that you have fallen into the hands of a person, who has study’d the civil and canon law in the point of bastardy. The child is either yours or not yours.
Foss. My child, Mr. Justice!
Pos. Look ye, doctor Fossile, you confound filiation with legitimation. Lawyers are of opinion, that filiation is necessary to legitimation, but not è contra.
[The child cries
Foss. I would not starve any of my own species, get the infant some water-pap. But Mr. Justice ——
Pos. The proofs, I say, doctor, of filiation are five. Nomination enunciatively pronounc’d, strong presumptions, and circumstantial proofs —
Foss. What is all this to me? I tell you I know nothing of the child.
Pos. Signs of paternal piety, similitude of features, and commerce with the mother. And first of the first, nomination. Has the doctor ever been heard to call the infant, son?
Town. He has call’d him child, since he came into this room. You have indeed, Mr. Fossile.
Pos. Bring hither the doctor’s great bible. —— Let us examine in the blank leaf whether he be enroll’d among the rest of his children.
Foss. I tell you, I never had any children. I shall grow distracted, I shall ——
Pos. But did you give any orders against registring the child by the name of Fossile?
Foss. How was it possible?
Pos. Set down that, clerk. He did not prohibit the registring the child in his own name. We our selves have observed one sign of fatherly tenderness; clerk, set down the water-pap he order’d just now. Come we may ——
Foss. What a jargon is this!
Pos. Come we now, I say, to that which the lawyers call magnum naturæ argumentum, similitude of features. Bring hither the child
, friend; Dr. Fossile, look upon me. The unequal circle of the infant’s face, somewhat resembles the inequality of the circumference of your countenance; he has also the vituline or calf-like concavity of the profile of your visage.
Foss. Pish.
Pos. And he is somewhat beetle-brow’d, and his nose will rise with time to an equal prominence with the doctor’s.
Town. Indeed he has somewhat of your nose Mr. Fossile.
Foss. Ridiculous!
Town. The child is comely.
Pos. Consider the large aperture of his mouth.
Sail. Nay, the tokens are plain enough. I have the fellow of him at home; but my wife told me two days ago, that this with the wall-eye and splay-foot belong’d to you, Sir.
[Prue runs a-cross the stage with a letter, which Fossile snatches from her.
Fos. Whither are you going so fast, hussy? I will examine every thing within these walls. [Exit Prue.]
[reads.] ‘For Richard Plotwell, esq;’ This letter unravels the whole affair: As she is an unfortunate relation of mine, I must beg you would act with discretion.
[Gives Possum the letter.
Pos. [reads] ‘Sir, the child which you father’d is return’d back upon my hands. Your Drury-lane friends have treated me with such rudeness, that they told me in plain terms I should be damn’d. How unfortunate soever my offspring is, I hope you at least will defend the reputation of the unhappy
‘Phœbe Clinket.’
—— As you say, doctor, the case is too plain; every circumstance hits.
Enter Clinket.
Clink. ‘Tis very uncivil, Sir, to break open one’s letters.
Foss. Would I had not; and that the contents of it had been a secret to me and all mankind for ever. Wretched creature, to what a miserable condition has thy poetry reduc’d thee!
Clink. I am not in the least mortified with the accident. I know it has happen’d to many of the most famous daughters of Apollo; and to myself several times.
Foss. I am thunderstruck at her impudence! several times!
Clink. I have had one returned upon my hands every winter for these five years past. I may perhaps be excell’d by others in judgment and correctness of manners, but for fertility and readiness of conception, I will yield to nobody.
Foss. Bless me, whence had she this luxuriant constitution!
Alexander Pope - Delphi Poets Series Page 153