_Enter_ GALLERIUS' GHOST.
From the Cinnerian depth here am I come Leaving an Erra Pater in my tomb, To take a view, which of my fellows be The thriving'st artists in astronomy.
Rank one by one in astrologic row, And dying see, whom thou didst living know.
[_He makes his figure._
Mount, gainful Crinon; for to thee we give, As thou deserv'st, the sole prerogative: For thy divining lines have purchas'd more Than all our prime professors got before.
Jason won much at Colchis; but thy gain Has lin'd thy shoulders in a Swedish chain.
Rich divination! But what's knowledge worth, If people do not credit what's set forth?
[Sidenote: _Omnia temporibus cecinit Cassandra futuris. Quae ventura suis--via unquam credita Teucris Melitus._]
This was Cassandra's loss, whom we allow And hold a prophetess as true as thou But not so well believ'd. Take heed, my blade, Thy late predictions cannot retrograde, And give thine erring notions such a check, As they unlink that chain which decks thy neck.
Signs sometimes change their influence, we see: I wish the like event befall not thee.
The golden number and saturnian line Have been propitious to thee all thy time: Thy says held oracles: thy observations For death, war, weather, held by foreign nations As positive maxims: yet one critical point Will throw this artful fabric out o' joint.
Dog-days each year affords; if thou find none, Thy fortune's clearer far than any one.
Let me then caution thee, divining Crinon, Lest thy own bosom prove thy treach'rous Sinon, Let not opinion make thy judgment err: "The ev'ning conquest crowns the conqueror."
Hope of reward or one victorious field Is no firm ground for any one to build.
May ill success clothe him with discontent, That balanceth the cause by the event.
Next him ascend, Erigonus, whose art, Richly embellish'd with a loyal heart, Will not permit thy thoughts to stoop so low As to pretend more than thy notions know, Or can attain to. Thou hast ta'en content With as much freedom under strait restraint, As Pibrack in his paradox express'd, Inwardly cheer'd when outwardly distress'd.
I have much mus'd, while thou convers'd with us Of the gradations o' th' Celestial House, Yet hadst none of thine own to shelter thee.
This was an humour that transported me: To see a mind so large, and to discourse As if he had got Fortunatus' purse!
This caus'd me think that we did greatly err In holding thee a mere astrologer, Though't be a sacred-secret speculation, And highly meriting our admiration: But rather some rare stoic, well content With his estate, however the world went.
Yet when I saw thine artificial scheme Exactly drawn, as none of more esteem, I wonder'd much how such choice art could want, Unless the whole world were grown ignorant.
I heard of late, what I did never dream, Thy farming life had drawn thee to a team, Preferring th' culture of an husbandman Before a needful astrologian, Who in this thankless age may pine and die, Before he profit by astronomy.
For though I must confess an artist can Contrive things better than another man, Yet when the task is done, he finds his pains Nought[161] but to fill his belly with his brains.
Is this the guerdon due to liberal arts, T' admire the head, and then to starve the parts?
Timely prevention thou discreetly us'd, Before the fruits of knowledge were abus'd.
"When learning has incurr'd a fearful damp, To save our oil 'tis good to quench our lamp."
Rest, then, on thy enjoyments, and receive What may preserve a life, reserve a grave.
This with convenience may supply thy store, And lodge thee with content: what wouldst thou more?
While he who thirsts for gold, and does receive it, Pules like a baby when he's forc'd to leave it.
For you, Liberius, I would have you look For your improvement on your table-book; Where you shall find how you bore once a name Both in the rank of fortune and of fame; But others, rising to a higher merit, Darken'd that splendour which you did inherit, Or those mistakes which caus'd you err so far, As your late years have proved canicular.
To waste more paper I would never have you, For I'm resolv'd your book will never save you, Nor you from it receive a benefit.
Suppress, then, pray thee, thy leaf-falling wit; Merlin's Collections will not serve thy turn, Retire, retire, and slumber in thine[162] urn.
Dotage has chill'd thy brain: in silence sleep; "He's wise enough that can his credit keep."
For you, Columba, and rare Peregrine, It is your fate to nestle in a clime Of disadvantage: Wisdom bids you build Where you may dwell, and sow in such a field, Where you may reap the harvest you have sown: "Arts unimprov'd are to no purpose shown."
Those only may be truly said to know, Whose knowledge pays their country what they owe; And (with the bee) from labour never cease, Till they have stor'd their hives with sweet increase.
Which thriving industry, infus'd by nature In such a small political a creature, Might by a native model render thee Conducts of science in astrology:
[Sidenote: _Saltibus hirsutis haud spatiantur apes._]
For she accounts it as a fruitless toil To browse on suckets in a barren soil.
For you, Alatus, mount with airy wing, And to [your] scatter'd nest some feathers bring: Though popular esteem afford delight, It cannot satisfy the appetite.
Fame is a painted meat, and cannot feed Nor sate the stomach when it stands in need.
This was mine own condition; while I liv'd, I to the highest pitch of fame arriv'd; All the Rialto sounded with my praise, Yet silence shrouded this within few days; For after some few funeral tears were shed, My memory died, before tears went to bed.
Yea, in my lifetime, when my state grew low, My fame found none she would conduct me to: And let this caution thee. Though thou swell great In men's conceit, this will not get thee meat.
"The only means to raise friends, fame, and store, Is to make industry thy providor."
For Atro-Lucus Serands, they be such I would not touch them, lest I should too much Impeach their branded fames: one word for all-- As their disgrace is great, their knowledge small: Let these demoniacs practise less in black, It will discolour all their almanac.
But this was not my errand. I would know How ladies with their husbands suit below.
Those frolic girls, I mean, and of none else, Who were induc'd by mine and Crinon's spells
[MEPHISTOPHILUS _appears and resolves him_.
To choose strange bedfellows. Pray, tell me how, Dear Mephistophilus, those wantons do.
MEPH. All out of joint: they've left their husbands' bed.
GAL. By this it seems they were not rightly wed; There was no justice in't: for if there had, Should they break loose, they would be judged mad.
But now mine hour approacheth; I must pass Down to that vault where late I lodged was.
Fix, Mephistophilus, this on that gate, That those who knew me may collect my fate.
[MEPHISTOPHILUS _having fixed this inscription on the portal of the gate, they descend_.
INSCRIPTION.
_The Astronomical Anatomy in a shadowed physnomy, recommended to posterity, dissected and presented in the empirical ghost of D. Nicholas Gallerius._----_Facilis descensus Averni._
_Enter_ WATCH _distraughtedly, letting fall their lanthorns_.
WATCH. Spirits, spirits, spirits!
_Enter_ CONSTABLE, _rubbing his eyes_.
CON. Where, where, where?
WATCH. Here, there, and everywhere; Now in the porter's lodge, then in the air!
CON. A _foutre_ for such ranging mawkins! I'll tell you, fellow-officers--for I have been since my weaning sufficiently schooled in the office of a constable--that we have no legislative power (do you mark me?) to commit any person, be he never so notorious a delinquent, if he fly or (as our falconers say) mount up into th' air. We are not bound to follow him, neither to attach nor commit him. And why? says the law. Because it is not in our power to catch him. But if he strut in the street, you may command him to come before me the Constable, as I am the representative body of the duke; or before yourselves, being the representative body of your Constable; and if the person so taken remain under safe custody, and he fly, if you overtake him by speed of foot, or by help of the bellman's mongrel, you may by the law of arms lay him by th' heels.
[_Dismiss the_ WATCH, _and exeunt_.
SCENE VII.
_Enter_ SIR AMADIN PUNY, SIR JASPER SIMPLETON, SIR ARTHUR HEARTLESS, SIR GREGORY SHAPELESS, SIR TRISTRAM SHORTTOOL, SIR REUBEN SCATTERGOOD.
SIR REU. Doubt nothing, my fellow-knights of Hornsey; the plot is so neatly and nimbly laid as it cannot but hold stitch.
ALL. But be the favourites' suits got, Sir Reuben?
SIR REU. They are brought to our lodgings already. To try a conclusion, I have most fortunately made their pages our 'coys by the influence of a white powder, which has wrought so powerfully on their tender pulse, as they have engaged themselves ours back and edge. _Sunt munera vincula servis._
SIR TRIS. 'Tis true, but how shall we pursue this project, that we may act to purpose what your ingenuity has contrived?
SIR REU. Leave that to me; be it your care to follow my direction, and if I make not these haxters as hateful to our hussies as ever they were to us who were their husbands, set me up for a Jack-a-Lent or a Shrove-cock for every boy to throw at!
The net is spread, and if they 'scape the noose, they must have more eyes than their own to discover it.