SCENE II.

_Enter_ Rusee, _de_ Bube, _la_ Fiske, Norbret, Pippeau.

_Rus._ Come, bear up Sirs, we shall have better days, My Almanack tells me.

_Bub._ What is that? your rump?

_Rus._ It never itch'd in vain yet, slide _la Fiske_, Throw off thy sluggish face, I cannot abide To see thee look like a poor Jade i'th' pound, That saw no meat these three days.

_Fiske._ 'Slight, to me It seems thirteen dayes since I saw any.

_Rus._ How?

_Fis._ I can't remember that I ever saw Or meat or mony, you may talk of both To open a mans stomach or his purse, But feed 'em still with air.

_Bub._ Friar, I fear You do not say your Office well a dayes.

_Nor._ Pox, he feeds With leachery, and lives upon th' exchange Of his two Eggs and Puddings with the market women.

_Rus._ And what do you Sir, with the Advocates wife, Whom you perswade, upon your Doctoral bed, To take the Mathematical trance so often?

_Fis._ Come, we are stark naught all, bad's the best of us, Four of the seven deadly spots we are; Besides our Leachery, we are envious, And most, most gluttonous when we have it thus, Most covetous now we want it; then our Boy He is a fifth spot, sloth and he undoes us.

_Bub._ 'Tis true, the child was wont to be industrious, And now and then sent to a Merchants wife Sick of the Husband, or a swearing Butler That mist of his Bowls, a crying Maid Had lost a Silver spoon; the Curry comb Sometimes was wanting; there was something gotten; But now--

_Pip._ What now? Did not I yester-morning Bring you in a Cardecu there from the Peasant, Whose ass I had driven aside, and hid, that you Might conjure for him? and then last night, Six Soulz from the Cooks wife, you shar'd among you To set a figure for the Pestle I stole, It is not at home yet; these things, my Masters, In a hard time, they would be thought on: you Talk of your lands and Castles in the air, Of your twelve houses there: but it is I That bring you in your rents for 'em, 'tis _Pippeau_ That is your bird-call.

_Nor._ Faith he does well, And cuts through the Elements for us, I must needs say In a fine dextrous line.

_Fis._ But not as he did At first, then he would sail with any wind Int' every Creek and Corner.

_Pip._ I was light then, New built and rigg'd when I came to you, Gentlemen, But now with often and far venturing for you Here be leaks sprung, and whole Planks wanting see you; If you'l new sheath me again, yet I am for you To any bog or sleights, where e're you'l send me, For as I am, where can this ragged Bark Put in for any service; 'less it be O'th' Isle of Rogues, and there turn Pirate for you.

_Nor._ Faith he says reason, Fryer, you must leave Your neat crisp Claret, and fall to your Cyder A while; and you _la Fiske_, your larded Capons And Turkys for a time, and take a good Clean Tripe in your way; _de Bube_ too must content him with wholsom two souz'd petitoes, no more Crown Ordinaries, till we have cloath'd our Infant.

_Bub._ So you'l keep Your own good motions, Doctor, your dear self.

_Fis._ Yes, for we all do know the Latitude Of your Concupiscence.

_Rus._ Here about your belly.

_Bub._ You'l pick a bottle open or a whimsey, As soon as the best of us. _Fis._ And dip your wrist-bands, (For Cuffs y'have none) as comely in the sauce [_The Bell rings._ As any Courtier--hark, the Bell, who is there?

_Rus._ Good luck I do conjure thee; Boy look out.

_Pip._ They are Gallants, courtiers, one of 'em is

[_Exit and enter again._

Of the Dukes bed-chamber.

_Rus._ _Latorch_, down, On with your gown, there's a new suite arriv'd, [_To Norbret._ Did I not tell you, Sons of hunger? Crowns, Crowns are coming toward you, wine and wenches You shall have once again, and Fidlers: Into your studyes close; each lay his ear To his door, and as you hear me to prepare you So come, and put me on that visard only.

_Enter_ Latorch, Hamond.

_Lat._ You'l not be far hence Captain, when the Business is done you shall receive present dispatch.

_Ham._ I'le walk Sir, in the Cloyster. [_Exit._

_Rus._ Monsieur _Latorch_; my Son, The Stars are happy still that guide you hither.

_Lat._ I'me glad to hear their Secretary say so, My learned Father _Russe_, where's _la Fiske_, Monsieur _de Bube_, how do they?

_Rus._ At their studyes, They are the Secretaries of the Stars, Sir, Still at their books, they will not be pull'd off, They stick like cupping glasses; if ever men Spoke with the tongue of destiny, 'tis they.

_Lat._ For loves sake let's salute 'em.

_Rus._ Boy, go see, Tell them who's here, say, that their friends do challenge Some portion of their time, this is our minute, Pray 'em they'l spare it: they are the Sun and Moon Of knowledge; pity two such noble lights Should live obscur'd here in an University, Whose beams were fit to'illumine any court Of Christendom.

_Enter la_ Fisk, _de_ Bube, _and_ Pippeau.

_Lat._ The Duke will shortly know 'em.

_Fis._ Well, look upon the Astrolabe; you'l find it Four Almucanturies at least.

_Bub._ It is so.

_Rus._ Still of their learned stuff, they care for nothing, But how to know, as negli[g]ent of their bodies In dyet, or else, especially in their cloaths, As if they had no change.

_Pip._ They have so little As well may free them from the name of shifters.

_Fis._ Monsieur _Latorch_?

_Lat._ How is it, learned Gentlemen, with both your vertues?

_Bub._ A most happy hour, when we see you, Sir.

_Lat._ When you hear me then It will be happier; the Duke greets you both Thus, and though you may touch no mony, Father, Yet you may take it.

_Rus._ 'Tis his highness bounty, But yet to me, and these that have put off The world, superfluous.

_Fis._ We have heard of late of his highness good success.

_Bub._ And gratulate it.

_Lat._ Indeed he hath scap'd a strange Conspiracy, Thanks to his Stars; which Stars he prayes by me, You would again consult, and make a Judgement On what you lately erected for my love.

_Rus._ Oh, Sir, we dare not.

_Fis._ For our lives.

_Bub._ It is the Princes Scheam.

_Lat._ T'incounter with that fear, Here's to assure you, his Signet, write your names, And be secured all three.

_Bu[b]._ We must intreat some time, Sir.

_Lat._ I must then intreat it, be as present as you can.

_Fis._ Have you the Scheam here?

_Lat._ Yes.

_Rus._ I would you had Sir another warrant.

_Lat._ What would that do?

_Rus._ Marry we have a Doctor Sir, that in this business Would not perform the second part.

_Lat._ Not him that you writ to me of?

_Rus._ The very same.

_Lat._ I should have made it, Sir, my suit to see him, Here is a warrant Father, I conceiv'd That he had solely applyed himself to Magick.

_Rus._ And to their studies too Sir, in this field He was initiated, but we shall hardly Draw him from his chair.

_Lat._ Tell him he shall have gold.

_Fis._ Oh, such a syllable would make him to forswear Ever to breath in your sight.

_Lat._ How then?

_Fis._ Sir, he if you do please to give him any thing, Must have't convey'd under a paper.

_Rus._ Or left behind some book in his study.

_Bub._ Or in some old wall.

_Fis._ Where his familiars may tell him of it, and that pleases him, Sir.

_Bub._ Or else I'le go and assay him.

_Lat._ Take gold with you.

_Rus._ That will not be amiss; give it the Boy, Sir, He knows his holes, and how to bait his Spirits.

_Pip._ We must lay in several places, Sir.

_Rus._ That's true, that if one come not, the other may hit.

_Lat._ Well, go then, is he so learned, Gentlemen?

_Fis._ The very top of our profession; mouth of the fates, Pray Heaven his Spirits be in a good humor to take, They'l fling the gold about the house else.

_Bub._ I, and beat the Fryer if he go not well Furnisht with holy-water.

_Fis._ Sir, you must observe him.

_Bub._ Not cross him in a word, for then he's gone.

_Fis._ If he do come, which is a hazard, yet-- Mass he's here, this is speed.

_Enter_ Norb[re]t, Russ, Pippeau.

_Nor._ Where is our Scheme, Let's see, dispatch, nay fumbling now, who's this?

_Rus._ Chief Gentleman of the Dukes Chamber, Doctor.

_Nor._ Oh, let him be, good even to him, he's a courtier, I'le spare his complement, tell him: what's here? The geniture Nocturnal, Longitude At forty nine and ten minutes? How are the cardins?

_Fis._ Libra in twenty four, forty four minutes, And Capricorn.

_Nor._ I see it, see the Planets, Where, how are they dispos'd? the Sun and _Mercury_, Mars with the Dragons tail in the third house, And _pars Fortunæ_ in the _Imo Cœli_, Then _Jupiter_ in the twelfth, the _Cacodemon_.

_Bub._ And _Venus_ in the second _Inferna Porta_.

_Nor._ I see it, peace, then _Saturn_ in the Fifth, _Luna_ i'th' Seventh, and much of _Scorpio_, Then _Mars_ his _Gaudium_, rising in th'ascendent, And joyn'd with _Libra_ too, the house of _Venus_, And [_Imum_] _Cœli_, _Mars_ his exaltation In the seventh house, _Aries_ being his natural house And where he is now seated, and all these shew him To be the Almuten.

_Rus._ Yes, he's Lord of the Geniture, Whether you examine it by _Ptolomeys_ way, Or _Messethales_, _Lael_, or _Alkindus_.

_Fis._ No other Planet hath so many dignities Either by himself, or in regard of the Cusps.

_Nor._ Why hold your tongue then if you know it; _Venus_ The Lady of the Horoscope, being _Libra_, The other part, _Mars_ rules: So that the geniture, Being Nocturnal, _Luna_ is the highest, None else being in sufficient dignity, She being in _Aries_ in the Seventh house, Where _Sol_ exalted, is the Alchoroden.

_Bub._ Yes, for you see he hath his Termin In the degrees where she is, and enjoyes By that, six dignities.

_Fis._ Which are clearly more Than any else that view her in the Scheam.

_Nor._ Why I saw this, and could have told you too, That he beholds her with a Trine aspect Here out of Sagittary, almost partile, And how that _Mars_ out of the self same house, (But another Sign) here by a Platique aspect Looks at the Hilege, with a Quartile ruling The house where the Sun is; all this could I Have told you, but that you'll outrun me; and more, That this same Quartile aspect to the Lady of life, Here in the seventh, promises some danger, _Cauda Draconis_ being so near _Mars_, And _Caput Algol_ in the house of Death.

_Lat._ How, Sir? I pray you clear that.

_Nor._ What is the question first?

_Rus._ Of the Dukes life, what dangers threaten him?

_Nor._ Apparent, and those suddain, when the Hyley Or Alchorodon by direction come To a Quartile opposition of the place Where _Mars_ is in the Geniture (which is now At hand) or else oppose to _Mars_ himself; expect it.

_Lat._ But they may be prevented.

_Nor._ Wisdom only That rules the Stars, may do it; for _Mars_ being Lord of the Geniture in _Capricorn_, Is, if you mark it, now a _Sextile_ here, With _Venus_ Lady of the Horoscope. So she being in her Exilium, which is _Scorpio_, And _Mars_ his Gaudium, is o'rerul'd by him, And clear debilitated five degrees Beneath her ordinary power, so That, at the most she can but mitigate.

_Lat._ You cannot name the persons bring this danger?

_Nor._ No, that the Stars tell us not, they name no man, That is a work, Sir, of another place.

_Rus._ Tell him whom you suspect, and he'll guess shrewdly.

_Lat._ Sir, we do fear one _Aubrey_; if 'twere he I should be glad; for we should soon prevent him.

_Fis._ I know him, the Dukes Kinsman, a tall man? Lay hold of't _Norbret_.

_Nor._ Let me pause a little, Is he not near of kin unto the Duke?

_Lat._ Yes, reverend Sir.

_Nor._ 'Fart for your reverence, keep it till then; and somewhat high of stature?

_Lat._ He is so.

_Nor._ How old is he?

_Fis._ About seven and fifty.

_Nor._ His head and beard inclining to be grey.

_Lat._ Right, Sir.

_Fis._ And fat?

_Nor._ He is somewhat corpulent, is he not?

_Lat._ You speak the man, Sir.

_Nor._ Well, look to him, farewel. [_Exit_ Norb.

_Lat._ Oh, it is _Aubrey_; Gentlemen, I pray you, Let me receive this under all your hands.

_Rus._ Why, he will shew you him in his Magick glass If you intreat him, and but gratifie A spirit or two more.

_Lat._ He shall eat gold If he will have it, so shall you all; there's that Amongst you first, let me have this to send The Duke in the mean time; and then what sights You please to shew; I'le have you so rewarded As never Artists were, you shall to Court Along with me, and there wait you[r] fortunes.

_Bub._ We have a pretty part of't in our pockets; Boy we will all be new, you shall along too. [_Exeunt._