To lead me through this twilight of my mind?
|For as bright day with black approach of night||105|
Puzzle me so, I can resolve for neither.
(Goes out hopping with one boot on, and the other off.)
JOHNSON. By my troth, sir, this is as difficult a
|combat as ever I saw, and as equal; for 'tis||110|
BAYES. Aye, is't not now, 'y gad, ha? For to go off hip hop, hip hop, upon this occasion, is a thousand times better than any conclusion in the world,
*JOHNSON. Indeed, Mr. Bayes, that hip hop in this place, as you say, does a very great deal.
*BAYES. O, all in all, sir; they are these little things that mar or set you off a play; as I remember once,
|in a play of mine, I set off a scene,1 'y gad,||120|
*SMITH. Pray, how was that, sir?
*BAYES. Why, sir, I contrived a petticoat to be
|brought in upon a chair (nobody knew how)||125|
*JOHNSON. God's my life, that was a notable contrivance, indeed.
*SMITH. Aye; but, Mr. Bayes, how could you 130 contrive the belly-ache?
*BAYES. The easiest i'th' world, 'y gad: I'll tell you how: I made the prince sit down upon the petticoat, no more than so, and pretended to his father
|that he had just then got the belly-ache;||135|
*SMITH. Well, and what followed upon that?
*BAYES. Nothing, no earthly thing, I vow to gad.
|*JOHNSON. O' my word, Mr. Bayes, there you||140|
*BAYES. Yes, it gave a world of content. And then I paid 'em away besides, for I made 'em all talk bawdy -- ha, ha, ha! -- beastly, downright baw
|dy upon the stage, 'y gad -- ha, ha, ha! -- but||145|
*JOHNSON. That, aye that, we know well enough, can never fail you.
*BAYES. No, 'y gad, it can't. Come, bring in the
|dance. Exit to call 'em.||150|
*SMITH. Now, the devil take thee for a silly, confident, unnatural, fulsome rogue!
Enter BAYES and Players.
*BAYES. Pray dance well, before these gentlemen. You are commonly so lazy, but you should be light
|and easy, tah, tah, tah.||155|
(All the while they dance, Bayes puts 'em out with teaching 'em.)
Well, gentlemen, you'll see this dance, if I am not deceived, take very well upon the stage, when they are perfect in their motions, and all that.
SMITH. I don't know how 'twill take, sir, but I
|am sure you sweat hard for't.||160|
BAYES. Aye, sir, it costs me more pains and trouble to do these things than almost the things are worth.
SMITH. By my troth, I think so, sir.
|BAYES. Not for the things themselves, for I||165|
Enter a Player.
|What, is the funeral ready?||170|
PLAYER. Yes, sir.
BAYES. And is the lance filled with wine?
PLAYER. Sir, 'tis just now a-doing.
BAYES. Stay, then, I'll do it myself.
|SMITH. Come, let's go with him.||175|
BAYES. A match! But, Mr. Johnson, 'y gad, I am not like other persons; they care not what becomes of their things, so they can but get money for 'em. Now, 'y gad, when I write, if it be not just as it should be in every circumstance, to every par- 180 ticular, 'y gad, I am no more able to endure it; I am not myself, I'm out of my wits, and all that; I'm the strangest person in the whole world. For what care I for money? I write for reputation. Exeunt.
BAYES and the two Gentlemen.
BAYES. Gentlemen, because I would not have any two things alike in this play, the last act beginning with a witty scene of mirth, I make this to begin with a funeral.2
|SMITH. And is that all your reason for it, Mr.||5|
BAYES. No, sir, I have a precedent for it besides. A person of honor, and a scholar, brought in his funeral just so; and he was one (let me tell you) that
|knew as well what belonged to a funeral as any||10|
JOHNSON. Nay, if that be so, you are safe.
BAYES. 'Y gad, but I have another device -- a frolic, which I think yet better than all this; not
|for the plot or characters (for in my heroic plays,||15|