The Rehearsal/Act 2-3
SCÆNA III.
Enter Prince Pretty-man.
Pret.How strange a captive am I grown of late!
Shall I accuse my Love, or blame my Fate?
My Love, I cannot; that is too Divine:
And against Fate what mortal dares repine?
Enter Cloris.
Sure 'tis some blazing Comet, is it not? [Lyes down.
Bayes. Blazing Comet! mark that. I gad, very fine.
Pret. But I am so surpris'd with sleep, I cannot speak the rest. [sleeps.
Bayes. Does not that, now, surprise you, to fall asleep just in the nick? His spirits exhale with the heat of his passion, and all that, and swop falls asleep, as you see. Now, here, she must make a simile.
Smi. Where's the necessity of that, Mr. Bayes?
Bayes. Because she's surpris'd. That's a general Rule: you must ever make a simile when you are surpris'd; 'tis the new way of writing.
Cloris. As some tall Pine, which we, on Ætna, find
T' have stood the rage of many a boyst'rous wind,
Feeling without, that flames within do play,
Which would consume his Root and Sap away;
He spreads his worsted Arms unto the Skies,
Silently grieves, all pale, repines and dies:
So, shrowded up, your bright eye disappears.
Break forth, bright scorching Sun, and dry my tears. [Exit.
Bayes. I am afraid, Gentlemen, this Scene has made you sad; for I must confess, when I writ it, I wept my self.
Smi. No, truly, Sir, my spirits are almost exhal'd too, and I am likelier to fall asleep.
Prince Pretty-man starts up, and says———
Pret. It is resolv'd. [Exit.
Smi. Mr. Bayes, may one be so bold as to ask you a question, now, and you not be angry?
Bayes. O Lord, Sir, you may ask me what you please. I vow to gad, you do me a great deal of honour: you do not know me, if you say that, Sir.
Smi. Then, pray, Sir, what is it that this Prince here has resolv'd in his sleep?
Bayes. Why, I must confess, that question is well enough ask'd, for one that is not acquainted with this new way of writing. But you must know, Sir, that, to out-do all my fellow-Writers, whereas they keep their Intrigo secret till the very last Scene before the Dance; I now, Sir, do you mark me ——— a ———
Smi. Begin the Play, and end it, without ever opening the Plot at all?
Bayes. I do so, that's the very plain troth on't: ha, ha, ha; I do, I gad. If they cannot find it out themselves, e'en let 'em alone for Bayes, I warrant you. But here, now, is a Scene of business: pray observe it; for I dare say you'l think it no unwise discourse this, nor ill argu'd. To tell you true, 'tis a Debate I over-heard once betwixt two grand, sober, governing persons.