Transcript

Act 3 · The Rehearsal

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Act three of the rehearsal by George Villiers. This is a LibriVox recording.
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All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer,
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please visit LibriVox dot org. Act three, Scene one, Faize with
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a paper on his nose, and the two gentlemen. Now, sir,
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this I do because my fancy in this play is to end every act with
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a dance. Fie. That fancy is very good, but I should hardly
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have broke my nose for it. Though that fancy, I suppose is new
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too, Sir. All my fancies are so I tread upon no man's heels,
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but to make my flight upon my own wings, I assure you.
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As now this next scene, some perhaps will say it is not very necessary
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to the plot. I grant it. What then I meant it so.
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But then it's as full of drollery as ever it can hold. Tis like
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an orange stuck with clothes. As for conceit, Come where are you?
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This scene will make you die with laughing if it be well acted. It
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is a scene of sheer wit without any mixture in the world. He gad
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reads enter Prince Prettyman, and Tom Thimble his tailor. This, Sirs,
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might properly enough be called a prize of wit, for you shall see him
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come in upon one another, snip snap, hit for hit, as fast
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as can be. First one speaks, then presently another's upon him, slap
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with a repartee, then he at him again, dash with a new conceit,
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and so eternally, eternally he gad till they go quite off. The
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stage goes to call the players. What a plague? Does his fought mean?
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By his snip snap? It's a hit dash mean? Why he never
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meant anything in his life? What does talk of meaning for? Enter bass?
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Why don't you come in? Enter Prince Prettyman? And Tom Thimble?
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But prithy Tom Thimble? Why wilt thou needs marry? If nine tailors make
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but one man and one woman cannot be satisfied with nine men? What work
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are they cutting out here for thyself? Trophy? Good? Why? And
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please your highness? If I can't make up all the work I cut out,
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I shan't want journeymen to help me. I warrant you good again.
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I am afraid thy journeyman. The oh Tom won't work by the day,
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but by the night. Good Still, however, if my wife sits but
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cross legged as I do, there will be no great danger, not half
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so much as when I trusted you for your coronation suit. Very good in
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faith. Why the times then lived upon trust? It was the fashion.
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You would not be out of time at such a time as that. Sure,
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a taylor, you know, must never be out of fashion. Right,
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I'm sure, sir, I made your cloth in the court fashion.
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For you never paid me yet there's a bob for the court. Why Tom,
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now art a sharp rogue when thou art angry? I see thou payest
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me now, methinks I, sir, in your own coin, you give
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me nothing but words admirable before gad well, Tom, I hope shortly I
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shall have another coin for the for now the wars come on. I shall
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grow to be a man of metal. Oh you did not do that half
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enough, methinks he does it admirably, ay pretty well, But he does
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not hit me in it. He does not top his part. That's the
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way to be stamped yourself, sir. I shall see you come home like
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an angel for the King's evil, with a whole board through you. That's
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very good in faith. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha huh.
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There he has hit it up to the hill to gad. How do you
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like it? Now, gentlemen? Is not this pure wit tee? Snip
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snaps, sir, as you say, but methinks not pleasant, nor to
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the purpose. For the play does not go on? Play does not go
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on. I don't know what you mean. Why is not this part of
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the play? Yes, but the plot stand still? Plot stand still?
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Why what a devil? Is the plot good for? But to bring in
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fine things? Oh? We did not know that before? No, I
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think you did not, Nor many things more that I am master of now,
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sir, begad. This is the bane of all us writers. Let
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us soar, never so little above the common pitch head, all spoiled for
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the vulgar, never understand us. They can never conceive you, sir.
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The excellence of these things tis a sad fate. I must confess. But
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you right on, still, right on, he cat, I warrant you
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tis not. Their talk shall stop me. If they catch me at that
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lock, I'll give em leave to hang me as long as I know my
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things to be good? What care I what they say? What? They
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are gone and forgot the song? I have done very well methinks he's no
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need of one A lack, sir, you know nothing. You must ever
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interlarge your plays with songs, ghosts and idols if you mean to ah Pitts
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box and gallery, mister bays e gad, sir, and you have nicked
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it. Hark you, mister Johnson. You know I don't flatter a gad.
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You have a great deal of wit. O, lord sir, you
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do me too much. Honor, Nay, nay, come come, mister
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Johnson, he flax. This must not be said amongst us that have it.
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I know you have wit by the judgment you make of this play,
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for that's the measure I go by. My play is my touch stone.
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When a man tells me such a one as a person of parts? Is
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he so? Say I? What do I do but bring him presently to
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see this play. If he likes it, I know what to think of
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him. If not, your most humble servant, sir, I'll know more
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of him upon my word. I thank you. I am clairvoyant. Agad.
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Oh, now here we go on to our business seem too, and
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to the two usurpers hand in hand, but won't speak. Come on,
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falsest the great his presence has not graced our court to flate. I fear
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some ill from emulation sprung as from us that illustrious hero Rung is not that
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majestical, Yes, but who devil is that? Vultius? Why that's a
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prince I make in love with parthodopy No. I thank you, sir,
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Enter Cordelio, my liegus, news from Volcius the Prince. His news is
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welcome, whatsoever it be, Hal said, Do you mean that whether it
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be good or bad? Nay? Pray, sir, have a little patience
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God succors, you'll spoil all my play. Why, Sir, tis impossible
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to answer every impertinent question you ask? Cry you miss you, sir,
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His highness sirs commanded me to tell you that the fair person whom you both
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do no despairing of forgiveness for her fault in a deep sorrow. Twice she
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did attempt upon her precious life, but by the care of standers by prevented
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was sat What stuff's here? At last? Volsius the Great this dire resolve,
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embraced his servants, he into the country, sent and he himself to
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Piccadilly went, where he's informed by letters that she's dead dead? Is that
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possible? Dead? Oh? Ye gods, excent, there's a smart expression
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of a passion. Oh ye gods, that's one of my bold strokes he
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had. Yes, But who is the fair person that's dead? That you
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shall know? Anon? Nay, if we know it, it all tis
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well. Perhaps you may find too, by and by for all of this
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that she's not dead neither Mary. That's good news. Glad of that with
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all my heart. Now here's the man brought in that is supposed to have
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killed her. A great shout within. Enter Amaryllis with a book in her
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hand, and attendants. What shall triumphants that enter a soldier shy made upon
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the river brink near twigham Town. The assassinate is taken. Thanks to the
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powers above for this deliverance. I hope its slow beginning will portend affward exit
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to all future end. Pish there you are out to all future end.
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No, no, to all future end. You must lay the accent upon
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end, or else you lose the conceit. Indeed, the alteration of that
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accent does a great deal, mister bays. Oh all in all, sir,
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they are these little things that mar Or said, you are a play.
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Now, I see you are perfect in these matters. I sir,
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I have been long enough added to know something. And two soldiers dragging in
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an old fisherman villain? What monster did corrupt thy mind to tack the noblest
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soul of humane kind? Tell me who set thee on Prince pretty Man to
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kill whom? Prince pretty Man? What did Prince pretty Man hire you to
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kill Prince pretty Man? No, Prince Volcius? To kill whom? Prince
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Volcius? What did Prince Falsius hire you to kill Prince Falsius? No Prince
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pretty Man. So drag him hence to tortures of the rat, produce his
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sense, e mark, How I make the horror of his guilt confound his
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intellect? For that's the design of this scene. I see, sir,
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you have a several design for every scene. Aye. That's my way of
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writing. And so I can dispatch you, sir, a whole play before
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another man. A gad can make an end of his plot. So now
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enter print Prettyman in a rage where the devil is he? Why pretty Man?
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Why when I say, oh, five five five five, all's marred?
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Now I vowed a gad quite marred? Enter Prettyman, oh fox,
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you are come too late, sir. Now you may go out again if
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you please. I vowed a gad mister, I would not give a button
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for my play. Now you'll have done this? What, sir, what
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sir? Slife? Sir? You should have come out in collar rouse upon
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the stage just as the other went off. Must a man be eternally telling
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you of these things? Sure? This must be some very notable matter that
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he's so angry at No, not of your opinion, pish, Come,
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let's hear your part, sir. Bring my father? Why you keep him
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from me? Although a fisherman he is, my father, was ever a
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son, yet brought to this distress to be for being a son made fatherless?
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Oh you just God's rob me, not of a father, the being
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of a son. Take from me rather exit? Well need what think you
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now? A devil? This is worst of all? Pray, mister bays.
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What's the meaning of this scene? Oh? Cry you mercy, sir,
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I protest. I had forgot to tell you why, sir. You
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must know that long before the beginning of this play, this prince was taken
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by a fisherman. Here, sir, take him prisoner, taken prisoner,
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Oh, Lord, what are question's there? Did ever any man ask such
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a question? Taken prisoner, God supors. He has put the plot quite
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out of my head with this damned question. What was I going to say?
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Nay, the Lord knows, I cannot imagine. Stay, let me
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see taken. Oh tis true? Oh why sir, as I was going
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to say, His Highness here that prince was taken in a cradle by a
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fisherman and brought up as his child. Indeed, nay, prithee, hold
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thy peace, and so, sir, this murder being committed by the riverside,
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the fisherman, upon suspicion, was seized, and thereupon the prince grew
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angry. So so now tis very plain. But mister Bayes, is not
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that some disparagement to a prince to pass for a fisherman's son. Have a
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care of that? I pray, no, no, no, not at
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all for tis. But for a while I shall fetch him off again.
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Presently you shall see and tower, prettyman, and thimble by all the god
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soul set the world on fire rather than let him ravish. Hence, my
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sire, pray, pretty man. It is at length revealed that he is
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not thy sire who the concealed low you Now there he's off again, admirably
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done in faith. Ah, Now the plot thickens very much upon us.
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What oracle this darkness can evince? Sometimes a fisher's sun, sometimes a prince.
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It is a secret, great, as is the world in which I,
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like the soul, I am tossed and hurled the blackest thing of fate.
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Sure was my lot. And when she rip my name, she made
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a blot exit. There's a blustering verse for you now, yes, sir,
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but pray, why is he so mightily troubled to find he is not
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a fisherman's son. Poh, That is not because he has a mind to
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be his son, but for fear he should be thought to be nobody's son
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at all. That would trouble a man. Indeed, so let me see.
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And to Prince Falsicius going out of town, I thought he'd be gone
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to Piccadilly. Yes, he gave it out so, but that was only
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to cover his design? What design? Why to head the army which lies
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concealed for him in Knightsbridge. I see here is a great deal of plot,
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mister Bays. Yes, now it begins to break, But we shall
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have a world of more business. Anon. And to Prince Vulcius Chlorus and
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Marillis and Harry with the writing cloak and boots, Sir, you are cruel
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thus to leave the town until retired to country solitude. We hoped the summer
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that we should at least have held the honor of your company. Held the
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honor of your company, pretty expressed, held the honor of your company.
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God Sukors. These fellows will never take notice of anything, I assure you,
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sir, I admire it extremely. I don't know what he does.
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Aye, Aye, he's a little envious, but it is no great matter.
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Come, pray, let us to this single boon, obtain that you
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will hear with poor or still remain before your horses come pronounce our fate.
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For then, alas I fate will be too late, sad Harry my boots,
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for I'll go rage among my blades in camps and quit the servant throng.
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But pray, mister Bays, is not this a little difficult that you
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was saying? Need now to keep an army thus concealed Knight's Bridge in Knightbridge,
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stay no, not if the innkeepers be his friends, his friends,
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Ay, sir, his intimate acquaintance or else. Indeed, I granted could
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not be yes faith, so it might be very easily. Nay. If
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I do not make all things easy, you gad, I'll give you leave
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to hang me. Now you would think that he is going out of town.
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But you shall see how prettily I have contrived to stop him presently by
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my truth, Sir, you have so amazed me. I know not what
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to think and to Parthenau bless me. How frail are all my best resolves?
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How in a moment is my purpose changed? Too soon? I thought
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myself secure from love. Fair madam, give me leave to ask her name?
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Who does so gently rob me of my fame? For I should meet
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the army out of town, and if I fail, must hazard my renown.
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My mother, Sir sells ale by the town walls, and me her
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dear parth and hope she calls can vulgar vestments, high born beauty shroud thou
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brings the morning pictured in a cloud, The morning pictured in a cloud,
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Ah catzukers, what I can see is there if you could, even,
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sir, exit oh inauspicious stars, that I was born to sudden love and
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to more sudden scorn cloris, how prince volciu sin love ha exitent laughing.
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Sure, mister Bays, we have lost some gist here that they laugh at.
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So why did you not observe He first resolves to go out of town,
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and then as he is pulling on his boots, falls in life.
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Ha ha, No, I did not observe that, indeed is a very
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good jest. Now you shall see a combat betwixt love and honor. An
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ancient author has made a whole play on it, but I have dispatched it
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all In this scene, foolsh just sits down. How as my passion made
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me cupid's scoff, this hasty boot is on the other off, and sullen
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lies with amorous design to quit loud fame and make that beauty mine. My
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legs, the emblem of my various thought, show to what sad distraction I
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am brought sometimes with stubborn honor Like this boot, my mind is guarded and
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resolved to do it. Sometimes again, that very mind, by love dissomed
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like this other leg, does prove what pains mister Bays takes to act this
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speech himself. Ay, the fool I see is mightily transported with it.
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Shall I to honor or, to love give way? Go on? Cries
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honor, tender love says nay, honor aloud commands pluck both boots on,
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but softer love does whisper put on none. What shall I do? What
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conduct shall I find to lead me through this twilight of my mind? For
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as bright day with black approach of night contending makes a doubtful puzzling light,
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so does my honor and my love together puzzle me. So I can resolve
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for neither exit with one boot on and the other off by my troth.
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Sir, this is as difficult a combat as ever I saw, and as
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equal, for tis determined on neither side. Ay is not he gat ah
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for to go on hip hop hip hop upon this occasion is a thousand times
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better than any conclusion in the world. He get ha ha ha. But
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Sirs, you cannot make any judgment of this play because we are come.
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But to the end of the second act, come the dance. Dance.
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Well, gentlemen, you'll see this dance if I am not mistaken, Take
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very well upon the stage when they are perfect in their motions, and all
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that I don't know to fool takes, sir, but I'm sure you sweat
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hard for it. Ay, sir, it costs me more pains and trouble
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to do these things than almost the things are worth by my troth. I
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think so, sir. Oh not for the things themselves, for I could
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write you, sir, forty of them in a day. But he gad.
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These players are such dull persons that if a man be not by upon
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every point and an turn, he gad, they'll mistake you, sir,
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and spoil all enter a player. What is the funeral ready, yes,
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sir? And is the lance filled with wine? Sir? Tis just now
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a doing? Stay, then I'll do it myself. Come, let's go
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with him a match. But mister Johnson, he gad, I am not
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like other persons. They care not what becomes of their things, so they
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can but get money for them. Now, Gad, when I write,
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if it be not just as it should be in every circumstance, to every
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particular, he gad, I am not able to endure it. I am
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not myself. I'm out of my wits and all that. I'm the strangest
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person in the whole world. For what care I for money? He cared?
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I write for fame and reputation. Exit up three,