Enter AMETHUS, MENAPHON, THAMASTA, and PAR THENOPHIL. No interruption; take your places quickly; [Flourish. Enter RHETIAS, his face whited, with black shag hair and long nails, and with a piece of raw meat. Rhe. Bow, bow! wow, wow! the moon's eclipsed; I'll to the churchyard and sup. Since I turned wolf, I bark, and howl, and dig up graves: I will never have the sun shine again: 'tis midnight, deep dark midnight,—get a prey, and fall to-I have catched thee now-Arre !— Cor. This kind is called Lycanthropia, sir; when men conceive themselves wolves.1 Pal. Here I find it. [Looking at the paper. Enter PELIAS, with a crown of feathers and anticly rich. Pel. I will hang 'em all, and burn my wife. Was I not an emperor? my hand was kissed, and ladies lay down before me; in triumph did I ride with my nobles about me till the mad dog bit me: I fell, and I fell, and I fell. It shall be treason by statute for any man to name water, or wash his hands, throughout all my dominions. Break all the looking-glasses; I will not see my horns my wife cuckolds me; she is a whore, a whore, a whore, a whore ! Pal. Hydrophobia2 term you this? Cor. And men possessed so shun all sight of water: Sometimes, if mixed with jealousy, it renders them Incurable, and oftentimes brings death. 1 "Lycanthropia, which Avicenna calls Cucubuth, others Lupi. nam insaniam or Wolf-madness, when men run howling about graves and fields in the night, and will not be perswaded but that they are Wolves, or some such beasts," &c.—Anat. of Mel. 2 Hydrophobia is a kind of madness, well known in every village, which comes by the biting of a mad dog, or scratching, saith Aurelianus; touching, or smelling alone sometimes, as Sckenkius proves so called, because the parties affected cannot endure the sight of water, or any liquor, supposing still they see a mad dog in it. And which is more wonderful, though they be very dry (as in this malady they are), they will rather dye than drink.”—Anat. of Mel. Enter a Philosopher in black rags, with a copper chain, an old gown half off, and a book. Speculation and Phi. Philosophers dwell in the moon. theory girdle the world about like a wall. an atheist, must be damned in the pit. I am very, very poor, and poverty is the physic for the soul: my opinions are pure and perfect. Envy is a monster, and I defy the beast. Cor. Delirium this is called, which is mere dotage,1 Sprung from ambition first and singularity, Self-love, and blind opinion of true merit. Enter GRILLA, in a rich gown, a great farthingale, a great ruff, a muff, a fan, and a coxcomb 2 on her head. Gril. Yes forsooth, and no forsooth; is not this fine? I pray your blessing, gaffer. Here, here, here—did he give me a shough,3 and cut off's tail! Buss, buss, nuncle, and there's a pum for daddy. Cor. You find this noted there phrenitis.4 True. Cor. Pride is the ground on't; it reigns most in women, 1 "Dotage, Fatuity, or Folly, is a common name to all the following species, as some will have it. Laurentius and Altomarus comprehended Madness, Melancholy, and the rest under this name, and call it the summum genus of them all. If it be distinguished from them, it is natural or ingenite, which comes by some defect of the organs, and over-much brain, as we see in our common fools; and is for the most part intended or remitted in particular men, and thereupon some are wiser than other; or else it is acquisite, an appendix or symptome of some other disease, which comes or goes; or if it continue, a sign of Melancholy itself."-Anat. of Mel. 2 A fool's cap. 3 A shock-dog, a water spaniel. "Phrenitis, which the Greeks derive from the word pony, is a disease of the mind, with a continual madness or dotage, which hath an acute fever annexed, or else an inflammation of the brain, or the membranes or kells of it, with an acute feaver, which causeth madness and dotage. It differs from Melancholy and Madness, because their dotage is without an ague: this continual, with waking, or memory decayed, &c. Melancholy is most part silent, this clamorous; and many such like differences are assigned by physitians."Anat, of Mel. Enter CUCULUS like a Bedlam, singing. Cuc. They that will learn to drink a health in hell To take tobacco well, to take tobacco well; Rhe. I'll swoop thee up. Pel. Thou'st straight to execution. Gril. Fool, fool, fool! catch me an thou canst. Phi. Expel him the house; 'tis a dunce. 1 Pal. You name this here hypochondriacal ? 1 Cor. Which is a windy flatuous humour, stuffing The head, and thence derived to the animal parts. To be too over-curious, loss of goods Or friends, excess of fear, or sorrows cause it. Enter a Sea-Nymph big-bellied, singing and dancing. Nymph. Good your honours, Cuc. Pray your worships, Dear your beauties,- To lash your sides, To tame your hides, To scourge your prides; And bang thee. Nymph. We're pretty and dainty, and I will begin : See, how they do jeer me, deride me, and grin ! 1 "The third [species of melancholy] ariseth from the bowels, liver, spleen, or membrane called mesenterium, named Hypochondriacal or windy Melancholy," &c.—Anat. of Mel. Come sport me, come court me, your topsail advance, And let us conclude our delights in a dance! All. A dance, a dance, a dance! Cor. This is the Wanton Melancholy. Women With child, possessed with this strange fury, often Have danced three days together without ceasing.1 Pal. 'Tis very strange: but Heaven is full of miracles. [A Dance, after which the Masquers run out in couples. We are thy debtor, Corax, for the gift Of this invention; but the plot deceives us : Cor. Is only left untouched: 'twas not in art To personate the shadow of that fancy; 'Tis named Love-Melancholy. As, for instance, Admit this stranger here,—young man, stand forth— Entangled by the beauty of this lady, [TO PARTHENOPHIL. The great Thamasta, cherished in his heart The weight of hopes and fears; it were impossible As his own proper sufferance could express. mirth? Tha. 1 "Chorus Sancti Viti, or S. Vitus' dance; the lascivious dance Paracelsus calls it, because they that are taken with it can do nothing but dance till they be dead or cured. It is so called, for that the parties so troubled were wont to go to S. Vitus for help, and after they had danced there a while, they were certainly freed. 'Tis strange to hear how long they will dance, and in what manner, over stools, forms, tables; even great-bellied women sometimes (and yet never hurt their children) will dance so long that they can stir neither hand nor foot, but seem to be quite dead."-Anat. of Mel. O, were your highness but touched home and throughly With this-what shall I call it-devil Pal. Hold! Let no man henceforth name the word again.— Soph. Enough; thou art a perfect arts-man. Cor. Panthers may hide their heads, not change the skin; And love pent ne'er so close, yet will be seen. [Exeunt. |