Belphegor, or, The marriage of the Devil a tragi-comedy, lately acted at the Queen's Theatre in Dorset-garden / by Mr. Wilson.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A stately Room in Roderigo's House.

Enter Roderigo, followed by Crispo and Mingo.

Rod.

WE Spirits, uncompounded Essences, Not manacled, or immur'd with Walls of Flesh; We can dilate, condense, or limb our selves, As like us best; assume what Colour, Shape Or Size we please. And I have taken this; My Servants, that—my Name below, Belphegor; Here, Roderigo.—My Quality, a Merchant Come from the Indies.—O most happy Lot! Who would believe, that void and formless Mass, That fluid infinite, had e'er produc'd Such an harmonious Order?—It strikes Wonder And Ecstacy.—.

[He turns to his Servants.

And what think ye of this World? Is not this better than toasting the Soals of our Feet?

Cris.

The Air, I must confess, is somewhat better—but for the People—not a doit to chuse.

Min.

I fansie 'em the worst of the two; and more fond of the Place, than our selves.

Rod.

Can ye blame 'em?—They know what they are in this World, they know not what they may be in the next.

Cris.

Yet live here, as if they expected no other—And so exqui∣sitely practis'd in Cheating one another, that the best of us is a meer Novice to 'em.

Min.

Not a Skip-kennel, but gives you three Tricks for one.

Cris.

And for their Masters—could you believe it, Sir, I met with a Signior t'other Night, most devoutly, with his Beads in one Hand; and the other in my Pocket.

Rod.

Why didst not beat him?

Cris.

I did but challenge him for't, and the Rogue had the Impudence to kick me, for taxing a Person of his Honour.

Min.

I believe both our assumed Bodies were damn'd Cowards, while they lived here;—for my part, I had rather take ten kicks, than so much as look back to see who gave me one of 'em.

Rod.

But sure, the Women treat ye better?

Cris.

As judge your self—it is not long since I had a concern with a Signiora; and just as I had stript, and was going to Bed to her, slip, went the Trap-door, and down dropt Crispo into the Common-shore.

Min.

And mine has given me such a Remembrance of her Love, that, as Young soever as my Figure speaks me, I can hardly speak Knitting-needles, without endangering the Bridge of my Nose—And when I tax'd her for it, had the Impudence to ask me, how she could give it, when she still kept it her self?

[Rod. smiles.

Rod.

But how d'ye find Mankind in general?

Cris.

Still slandering us—As drunk as a Devil—As mad as a Devil—As poor as a Devil—As dull as a Devil—And what not!—when yet, there's not so much difference between us, as would turn a pair of Scales.

Min.

And then perpetually playing Fast and Loose with us—Ever and anon giving their Souls to the Devil; yet, at last, bequeathing them another Way, without the least thought of the pre-conveyance to us.—And therefore, I beseech ye, give me leave to return to my old Quarters.

Cris.

Not forgetting thy Excellencies, poor Crispo.

Rod.

Villiachoes!—And must ye throw up your Cards, when they play into your Hand? Peace—and be thankful—All this but makes our Game—Go—humour them—for we're restrain'd, and can do nothing without themselves—They hold the Candle to us—The Mud's their own; We only shake the Viol, and stir it up—and so—look out—and sharp.—

[Exeunt Crispo and Mingo.

Now to my own Affair—

[Rod. takes out a Paper and reads.

At the Pandaemonium, or Common-Council of the Infernal Lake—Pre∣sent —Lucifer, Abaddon, Belzebub, and others, the High and Mighty Lords, Potentates, and Princes of the Grand Abyss—Whereas, upon taking our Yearly Audits, it has been observ'd, that the Souls of such as arrive, generally agree, that their Wives sent them—And whereas, the said Board had formerly Ordered, That for the better discovery of the Truth thereof, some one of their Body (as by Lot it should fall) repair to Earth—And whereas the said Lot

fell to Belphegor, Generalissimo of the Aspaltick Lake—Resolved, as followeth.

1. That the said Belphegor forthwith take upon him that Province, and that a Million of Duccats be assign'd him; not as Advance, but his full Complement.—And well enough—no ill Encouragement.

2. That for the better carrying on of the said Service, Himself (and Two other Spirits assigned him as Servants) be at Liberty to assume, and actuate what Bodies, and settle in what Part of the World, shall like him best.—And I have don't.

3. That upon his first Choice, of his Place of Residence, he imme∣diately Marry a Wife, and live with her Ten Years (if possible) after which (pretending to die) that he return, and, upon his own Ex∣perience, make Affidavit, of the Pleasures and Calamities of Marriage.—And I have done that first.—A desperate Service, no doubt!—

[He Smiles.

4. That he lose all Qualities of a Spirit (unless, perhaps, upon some last Exigence) and become in all things as a Man; subject to all the Conditions of Humanity,—Poverty, Imprisonment, Passions, Fear, Hate, Love.—

Where there Ten Thousand more, that sweetned all. Love!—There's no Passion, but what's founded on't: Men Fear, for what they Love—Desire, Hate, Envy, And all, because they Love themselves.—But mine Carries a nobler Tincture; and I Love To that Degree, I've half forgot the Sex.

[He changes his Voice.

And, but that she has little odd Humours, and perhaps too, some Fits of her Mother; O Origen! I'd release thy Kindness, and never accept other Heaven, than here.

But see!—She comes!

[Imperia and Attendants cross the Stage, as conducting her Sister Portia to her Coach—They bow at distance—He points after her.

Such was the Infant-Morn, when it first brake And blush'd, to see the Chaos left behind her. Thence I felt Passion first—What else I view'd Wrought in my Mind no Change, no fond Desire: But there, I am transported.—I, that was High Proof 'gainst all things else, There, there alone, Weak, for to me, whate'er she Wills is Fate.

[Imp. returns, sola. He runs to her.

Sure Nature was asleep when thou stol'st forth, And all the Graces she design'd an Age, Crowded themselves together, and made thee.

Imp.

And are not you a fine Gentleman, to coax your poor Wife?— Alas, poor Fool! she cannot chuse but believe ye.

Rod.

Couldst thou but see my Heart, thou wouldst.

Imp.

You can't Dissemble—not you—you are—Mary, that you are—

[She stroaks him.

Rod.

At least would be, whate'er I thought might please thee: And were the World at my dispose, 'twere thine.

Imp.

No doubt of it—Witness the Necklace.

Rod.

I had forgot—

Imp.

And so you do every thing that concerns me.

Rod.

See—I have brought thee a better.

[He gives her a Necklace.

Imp.

But I long'd for t'other—The Set of Neapolitan Horses too—But I'm your Wife—There—

[She throws it away]

'Pray' bestow it where you intended it—I cou'd observe that Eye of yours, as my Sister past you.

[He offers to Embrace her—She turns him off.

Rod.

Fie, my Imperia, fie—Wilt thou be always thus?

Imp.

And much you care, whether I am or not—One would think a Woman of my Quality—

[She puts Finger in Eye.]

I know not why so many good Women die;—but wish I were dead too, that I might trouble you no longer.

Rod.

No—I'll die first, that thou mayst have another.

Imp.

No marvel, truly—I live so well with you.

Rod.

She crys!—By Heaven, she crys!—Poor Innocence!—My Life!—My Soul!—My Imperia!—Thou shalt have any thing;— We'll come to Articles.

Imp.

And long you'll keep 'em.

Rod.

By this Kiss—for ever.

[She receives it, still sobbing.

Imp.

And shall I have the Necklace I long'd for?

[Sobs.

Rod.

Thou shalt, my Dear.

Imp.

The Set of Horses too?

[Sobs.

Rod.

I would they were better for thy Sake.—Thou shalt.

Imp.

The broach of Diamonds would be very becoming,—and the Locket,—

[a half sob]

now 'twas so pretty.

Rod.

That, and whatever else thou wilt.

Imp.

The Pearl too—Were large, round, Oriental—and the Pendants—so delicate—I fansie how I should appear in them.

[She comes into a pleasant Humour.

Rod.

Less than thou truly art:—But thou shalt have 'em.

Imp.

And—

[She strokes him]

do what I will?

Rod.

What pleases thee, sha'n't be amiss to me—only be kind,—and love thy Roderigo.

[They strike hands upon it.

Imp.

A match, a match,—I will.

[Makes a low Reverence. Exit.

Rod.

Some techy Mortal now would have quarrell'd; but we, old Experienc'd Devils, know better things,—

[He walks.

And live with her Ten Years (if possible.)—Mistaken Fools— 'tis possible.—I will live with her,—and that, for ever.

[It Thunders. A Head rises.

Head.

Thy Articles, Belphegor; thy Articles.

Rod.

And what of them?—The Casuists are clear in the point;— They may be shifted for Advantage.—Sue 'em.

Head.

But is there not a Publick Faith, even among Devils?

Rod.

It may be broke for Empire, why not for Love then, that com∣mandeth Empire? It may, and shall—Be gone.

Head.

Be Witness, thou inviolable Styx! Thou 'ast broken thine; and I pronounce thee Mutinous.

[Sinks.

Rod.

That I could reach the Slave,—I'd make him know, I fill my Orb my self, and make my Circle Without a barrowed Light—

[Another Thunder.

Squib on—and say, I am more proud in my Imperia's Love, Than when (as Thunder-proof) I once bestrid That vast Convex of Fire; and leading up The embattled Legions of Apostate Cherubs, Plow'd the Parch'd Earth, and make th' affrighted Deep Shrink to its last Recess.

Enter Imperia running.

Imp.

O my Dear, heard you not the Thunder? I'm so afraid.—

Rod.

Of what? of thy own Shadow?

Imp.

How can you be alone?

Rod.

Yet, meditating on thee—That very Thought were Com∣pany enough.

Imp.

O, but confess; you look as you were disturb'd.

Rod.

And thou so near? Impossible.—Or were it so, The Sight of thee would reconcile my Passions, And give me to my self.

[She strokes him.

Imp.

But won't you tell me true? Are you not well?

Rod.

How can that Man be Ill, that's Happy enough To pity Caesar? And such am I in thee.

[He Embraces her.

Here will I fix my Empire—Here I'll Reign, And Reign alone.

[He leads her off. Exeunt.