Siege, The: Or, Love's Convert, A Tragi-Comedy - Act 5. Scene 7

ACT. V. S CEN VII.

Nicias slinks in, and placeth himself as behind a
Pillar to take the sight; Callimachus after him
dress'd as a Fury .

Call. Well! a Male Fiend is fit for a She Fury;
Like must to like; so I unto this Widdow.
If any of my Coat should come and take
Acquaintance of me for a recall Fiend,
And find me tripping, I've no other way
But just to swear him down I am a true one
That have — — (let's see) — — lain Leiger in the Indies,
And so perhaps am grown out of his knowledge.
I wonder who 'tis that shee'l have me carry
Away i'th' Coffin; Sure some nasty Raskall.
Nic. Lord! how my hand doth shake. I set down one thing,
Then blot it out again I know not how.
Pray Jove he doth not sent me! If he hath
But any Nose, he hath th' Advantage of me.
Pru. Heav'n bless me! Yonder's one I'm sure's no Angel.
O my prophetick words! that I should promise
T' encounter with a Fury!
Cal. Hold! yond's something
That is not one of us: I would I were
A very Fury now indeed, and had
All qualities belonging to my shape.
The first thing that I'd do, should be to make
My self invisible. Widdow, you must pardon me;
Sure I shall fall into a Thousand peeces
If that this shaking leave me not the sooner.
I vow I'm not afraid for all my fooling — —
I — — I — — must on — —
Pru. Good heaven! hee's coming towards me:
How blew my Candle burns! I see his feet,
Th' are cloven ones for certain.
Cal. Y — — y — — yet I dare not — —
'Tis safest to retire, my joints are loose all,
And yet I can scarce move 'em.
Nic. He hath found me,
He is upon the Train: how his Nose shakes
As he snuffs up the Ayre!
Cal. My Teeth do ch — — ch — — ch — — chatter
As Schoolboys in cold weather.
Pru. Heav'n defend me!
How he doth gnash his Teeth, and make hell here!
I would I were i'th' Coffin at a Venture.
Nic. All my left side's grown stupid. I'm half stone;
I feel a numness steal o'r all my limbs:
I shall augment the number of the Statues.
It will be Niobe Nicias presently.
Cal. Being it is an Angel, 'twill not hurt me.
I will make towards it however.
Pru. Now,
Now he comes open-mouth'd; Lord, what a smoak
He belcheth like a Furnace! look! he claps
His tail between his Legs, as dogs are wont
When they will do shrewd turns; 'tis a sly Spirit;
They'l never leave their cunning.
Cal. Hee'l not suffer me
To talk long with him, hee's so us'd t' Ambrosia ,
And to's Perfumes, which hee'l not find here sure.
Pru. O! — — Cal. O! — —
Pru. You — — Cal. You — —
Pru. Your Honour — — Cal. Blessed Spirit — —
Pru. Yes — — Cal. I — — must have — — that — — Body — — there.
Pru. You can — —
Lay no claime — — unto him — — he is not — — yours — —
Cal. He is our due.
Pru. How can you prove't?
Cal. Dare you
Dispute with him that first invented Logick?
Pru. No, no, I am no Scholar, I'm a Captain.
Cal. You must not guard the dead then, he must down.
Phi. I am not he you come for, you're mistaken.
Cal. Hoh!
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.