I love reading acts and plays. I find it a fun way to get people motivated to read, is by acting what they are reading.
I have come from such experiences of life that I must begin to say that I have no mind to say what is on my mind except in under certain circumstances. As each passing day goes, I am enjoying the silence. It brings me peace, it brings me joy, it brings me happiness, it brings me pain, it brings me misery but it most certainly most gives me peace of mind. So here is a piece of mind that I hope it finds you fondly.
Fondle not with me please, I will be displeased.
Alone at home I play acts from my own head in short bursts. Other times I free style a poem in my head. Sometimes I get mad at myself for not writing it down because soon after I forget them. So many have gone and passed. I can't catch them all. I'm not Ash on cocaine. Here is one I just came up with before writing this paragraph.
I laugh and play in certain parts of the day. I move about each way and hey. I play with the lazy cat. Cat has my tongue but not for long. Long as I dance to this song, I will sing along in silence till I get it all wrong. Wrong notes float on by as I cry to them goodbye. Goodbye fair lady nice seeing you stroll by. By the way, what is today? Today is moon day. Day by day no stage fright. Night after night exit stage right. Right off my might. Might write off height. Will she care?
Makes absolutely no sense right? I don't care. makes sense to me.
The Following is a play by Richard Head.
I thought maybe some of you people with a sense of humor like mine might enjoy. It was acted in privi. Depending on length I will break them down into separate posts. maybe scene by scene? what do you guys opine? I just thought it would be a good idea to save good books on a block-chain. Like the Nag Hammaddi Library, Dead Sea Scrolls, ETC. ETC. But I am not going to do that. Instead, I want some comedy in here every now and then for when those days just seem like comedy is needed. Fan of Hive, well hive a laugh then too.
Cheers loves
yayogerardo@protonmail.com
enjoy
TITLE PAGE:
Hic et Ubique; OR, THE HUMORS OF DUBLIN. A COMEDY.
Acted privately, with general Applause.
Written by Richard Head, Gent.
Facilius est Carpere quàm Imitare.
LONDON, Printed by R. D. for the Author. 1663.
The Prologue.
Enter Momus.
Momus
HA, ha, we're like to have a goodly Play y faith when our Author swore just now he knew not whether Pegasus were Horse or Cow, if a be no Poet, I wonder the Devil how he came to be so poor; for I've heard some say, Poverty and Poe∣try are inseparable companions, but now I think on't, his fancie creeps in prose, and sometimes cuts a ca∣per or two in verse, according as a was inspir'd by Bacchus—but that he could not purchase alwayes,
And that's the reason that there's here such lack.
Of wit, since there was want of sparkling Sack.What can you then expect but the dreggs of Ale? the best title you can give him is but a red lettice scribler, whose rimes and the spiggot keep time together.
Enter Musoph.
Musophilus.
Courteous spectators —
Momus.
Save your self the lobour, I have spoke the Prologue already.
Musoph.
Who sent thee?
Momus.
My friends, Envy and Prejudice.
Musoph.
Thy commission's false, get hence, thy breath infects the aire, and wu'd be contagious here, but that the serenity of each face I view becom's it 's antidote. Avant.
(Exit Mome)
The Prologue.
Our Author wrote this Play, but cannot tell
Whether or no his genius has done well.
Mark well then what hee'l say, and doubtless you
Will swear though't be not quaint, yet most is true.
Heres no Ʋtopian stories, nor such things,
As some men fain, that flye upon the wings
Of fancy only, and include the station
Of their own projects in imagination.
Experience dictates what we have to say,
She being guide, I marvel who can stray.
Hear't out with patience, for we'l all contend
To please you all, and not a Mome offend.
Drammatis Personae.
ALderman Thrive-well Vintner in Dublin.
Collonel Kil-tory.
Quondam Citizens of London.
Hope-well.
Bank-rupt.
Contriver.
Tru•….Phantastick.
Hic-et-nbique.
Peregrine.
Scrivener.
Patrick. Kil-tory's man.
Recipe.
Drawer.
Women.
- Cassandra, Thrive-wels daughter.
- Jane her maid.
- Contrivers Wife.
- Hope-wells Wife.
- Sue-Pouch a Land-Lady.
The Scene Dublin.
Act 1. Scene 1.
Enter Peregrine, Mr. Hopewell, Contriver, Trust-all, Bankrupt, Phantastick, Hic & ubique.
Peregr.
MAdam, welcome ashore.
Hopewel.
Thanks, noble Sir.
Peregrine.
The like to you all, Gentlemen. What, melancholly, Mr. Trustall? Come, come, though y'are altogether a stranger in this Countrey, yet let not your unacquain∣tance therewith too much discompose your spirits, or disturb your rest: y'are remov'd but two degrees from your native habitation, and there's but little difference between the Climates. The generality of Dublin's Inhabitants may justly boast of as great a measure of civility as the greatest pretenders thereunto elsewhere; only their losses and crosses has so refin'd their wits, that they are become the best oecono∣mick Polititians.
Trust.
Sir, 'tis not so much the remembrance of my native soil, as the losse of a fair promising fortune; together with the leaving behind me my dear Wife and Children, that thus dis∣compose me, leaving my dissipated thoughts in a continued ex∣tafie.
Peregr.
The consideration hereof would disswade the most censorious from blaming your dejection. However, be of good comfort, though the world has faln out with you, I wu'd not have you therefore be revenged on your self, or take pet, and be miserable in spight.
Trust.
Sir, I am sensible that I merit blame, but not the least pitty; since my sufferings are the sole effect of my overmuch (foolish) credulity, occasioned by my greediness of trade: grasping at every motion of credit, I thought to oblige and en∣gage all.
Peregr.
Never to come neer you after.
Trust.
Woful experience inform'd me so, for now do I find their names in my debt books, meerly as so many memoran∣dums of my folly, never to be cancel'd.
Hic.
Hang all sad thoughts, extasies, and distracting re∣membrances (say I) let's drink a glass of Sack and drown 'em all therein. Since we know none that will give us our welcome to Ireland, lets e'ne do't our selves.
Phant.
Well said, faith Boy, let's away then to the next Tavern. Here's money lads, and bills of Exchange too, which wee'l exchange for Sack: We cannot want, for when we have spent all our English moneys, here's Spanish and French, more than these Ram-crested Citizens know what to do withal. It shall go hard but our wits shall put in for a half share among 'em.
Mrs. Hope.
Now Sir, I have time to thank you, for your ci∣vility aboard; truly I knew not what to have done without you; you stood to me in my weaknesse, we women are trou∣blesome sickly things at Sea.
Enter Thrivewel.
Thrive.
Save you Gentlemen. Came ye out of England?
Phant.
The Sun has not run six minutes, thirteen seconds since we landed.
Thrive.
I pray Sir, what Country man are you?
Phant.
I've been so long a Traveller, I don't justly know.
Thrive.
And it may be not very well understand what you say.
Phant.
What d'ye make of me?
Thrive.
By your language, you seem a rabbinical Christian; by your gesture, an Aegyptian-French Magician.
But I pray Gentlemen, what news at London?
Phant.
My gaul hath overflown its banks, and so irritated my animosity against your dissimilar abjurgating similitudes, that I am loth to give your plush Jacket any other than brush∣ing satisfaction.
Thrive.
If you do, pray Sir let it be in English.
Phant.
Novelties (you would say) according to Courtly ex∣pression, or novel as the French has it, but news according to the Vulgar. Some there is though not much, let me see this is Wednesday, or as the great Mogol calls it—
Thrive.
If this be your way of telling news, I shall sooner hear thereof from my friends at London.
Phant.
Well, I'le condescend then to the imbecility of your veterane capacity. A Saturday night last, I sup'd with Dick-Shallow in the Strand, (for he and I are so intimately acquaint∣ed, that we are never asunder.) A Monday night I came to Holly-head, where I found these Gent.
Thrive.
The expedition of your journey seems to me very strange Sir.
Phant.
You wou'd not think so, had you but seen me fly through the air. I tell you my horse is so extream swift in his motion, that winged Pegasus is but a dull Asse to him.
Thrive.
I wou'd I cu'd see this wonderful swift Animal.
Have you brought him o're with you Sir?
Phant.
D'ye think that my brain-pan instead of guts, is ple∣nified with obfuscosities? though I venture him at land, I'de not hazard such a treasure at Sea.
Peregr.
This is a long parenthesis. You were about to tell the Gentleman some news.
Phant.
'Slife tis right; why, then to be short, London's Lon∣don now
Peregr.
That's without doubt; but have you no stranger news to relate?
Phant.
Have but patience, and I shall gradually inform your curiosity. First then, Houses and Shops are so dear in London, that some Shopkeepers are forc'd to sell their wares in the Country.
Hic.
I believe so, and their wearing cloaths too.
Phant.
The Mercers and Booksellers are deeply in law about the Fee-simple of Ludgate, O 'tis disputable which shall carry it. As for Newgate that's to be let.
Hic.
And so it may stand, for I know not who wou'd wil∣lingly take it, but thy grounds for this conceit?
Phant.
Why, the doors were fast lockt up.
Hic.
I wonder how thou got'st out then, unlesse thou hast a body as penetrating as a spirit.
Phant.
And I saw a bill upon 'em.
Hic.
That may be, a Doctors pocky bill, or a pocky Doctors bill; why, art thou so ignorant, to be guilty of so gross a mi∣stake?
Phant.
Thou art as blind as a Polebeg Oister, not to see a well digested conceit of mine therein. But to proceed: younger Brothers never rackt their wits and inventions so much as now, to supply their necessary expence. The Ladies are grown so insatiate, as that they are not content without seven or eight baudy Pentioners, whereby they can hardly purchase provocatives enough to render 'em capable of the of∣fice of a Stallion. False Dice wo'nt avail neither, for the De∣vil has taught even the Phanatick to be a Gamester. The Sea and the Pox has swept away one half of the Cock-neighs, and the other half expect to end their daies by hanging like plum∣mets to a line, and are in hopes when wound up, to go to Heaven by Clockwork.
Contr.
What an asse was I, that I could not think of this; well, since 'tis not my invention, I'le go and acquaint all the Grave-makers in the Town, that there's one has brought in an innovation, which may prove destructive to their profession; for which I hope they'l immediately digg him a grave, shall at least reach to the Anti-podes.
(aside.)
Phant.
Breaking's now a la mode, and that makes this son of a Costermonger in the fashion: (to Contriver) add to him Bankrupt and Trustall, and they'l make a leash of Knights of the burning Pestle, that are come into the Western parts for strange adventures. This here is coutriving to drein St. George's Channel, being so dangerous to sea-men in Winter time, and when 'tis done, he is to have a Patent for the sole transporta∣tion of Boggs and Laughs of Irish growth into forreign parts.
Thrive.
But Sir, y'ave lost the main subject of your discourse viz. the famous and now most glorious City, London.
Phant.
No such matter; there are Cities in Terra incognita that I have seen nay and been drunk in, (there I lie, for now I remember my self, they drink nothing there but Coffee and Chocolate.)
Thrive.
But what of them?
Phant.
I say that they for Architecture do as much excel Lon∣don, as my horse that I told you of, is to be prefer'd before a gelding of fifty pound price.
Thrive.
You are a Traveller I perceive then.
Phant.
I am so, 'tis novelty I solely take delight in, which makes me no where a constant resident.
Bank:
I believe so, for he will stay in no place longer than he can be trusted.
Phant.
Speak once more, and down goes thy brazen head. No Sir, my aim therein was to learn diversity of languages, that thereby I might at will pick-lock the treasury of know∣ledge therein contained: and out of the manners of each na∣tion, extract somewhat excellent for my peculiar observation and imitation: what progresse I have made herein, let my carriage and language expresse it.
Peregr.
Travel I confesse in joys so many worthy priviledges, that the hazard and labour that accompanies it, should not in the least deterr us from it: for we are not so to indulge the body, as to starve the understanding. This is the ready was to improve an imature judgment. But instead hereof, some after a vast expence, return at length only metamorphosed from English Asses, to French Apes.
Phant.
Enough, enough Sir, let's go to the Tavern. The knowledge that this Gentleman has of the City, will inform us where's the best wine. Come old Sir John, you'l favour us with your company.
Thrive.
What Tavern d'ye pitch on? the London Ta∣vern?
Bank.
No, no, we have had too much to do with London Taverns already.
Thrive.
Why then, the Feathers.
(Exeunt.)
End Of Scene 1 of Act 1
And last but least. why the hell not.Some music while you read? maybe not this song but it is just an idea. I say this heretoo for those that skipped ahead ;)
HELP! If You Have Any Old Plays That You Would like for me to possibly include in future posts like this or just wish to share for lols, please comment a link to them here for all to see, or send me a pdf(incase youdon't have the link but have the pdf) version at my email found at the top of this page.
and heretoo
Or hell upload them yourself.
Here's a public library and a book by Emma Goldman "There Is No Communism In Russia"