Chapter 1 of 4 · 3976 words · ~20 min read

Part 1

Transcriber’s Notes

• Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. • Typographical errors were silently corrected. • Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant form was found in this book. • Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). • Superscripts are written using a caret (^) followed by the text enclosed in braces (^{superscript}).

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_HURLOTHRUMBO_:

OR: THE

SUPER-NATURAL

As it is Acted at the

NEW-THEATRE,

IN THE

HAY-MARKET.

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Written by Mr. SAMUEL JOHNSON, of _Cheshire_.

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_Ye Sons of Fire, read my_ HURLOTHRUMBO, _Turn it betwixt your Finger and your Thumbo, And being quite outdone, be quite struck dumbo._

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_LONDON_:

Printed for the AUTHOR And,

_Dublin_: Re-Printed by JAMES HOEY, and GEORGE FAULKNER, at the _Pamphlet-Shop_ in _Skinner-Row_ opposite to the _Tholsel_, MDCCXXIX.

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[Illustration]

TO

The Honourable the

Lady _DELVES_.

MADAM,

When I think of your Goodness, it gives me Encouragement to put my Play under your grand Protection; and if you can find any thing in it worthy of your Praise, I am sure the _Super-Naturals_ will like it. I do not flatter when I say, your Taste is universal, Great as an Empress, Sweet and Refin’d as Lady _Malpas_, Sublime as Lady _Sarah Cowper_, Learned and Compleat as Lady _Conway_, Distinguishing and Clear as Mrs. _Madin_, Gay, Good and Innocent as Lady _Bland_. I have often thought that you are a Compound of the World’s Favourites, that all meet and rejoice together in one; the Taste of _Montagu_, _Wharton_, or _Meredith_, _Stanhope_, _Sneid_, or _Byrom_; the Integrity and Hospitality of _Legh_ of _Lime_, the Wit and Fire of _Bunbury_, the Sense of an _Egerton_, fervent to serve as _Beresford_ or _Mildmay_, belov’d like _Gower_. If you was his Rival, you’d weaken the Strength of that most powerful Subject. I hope your eternal Unisons in Heaven will always sing to keep up the Harmony in your Soul, that is Musical as Mrs. _Leigh_, and never ceases to delight; raises us in Raptures like _Amante Sposa_, Lord _Essex_, or the Sun. If every Pore in every Body in _Cheshire_ was a Mouth they would all cry out aloud, _God save the Lady_ DELVES! that illuminates the Minds, of Mortals, inspires with Musick and Poetry especially,

_Your most Humble Servant_,

Lord _FLAME_.

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[Illustration]

TO

The Right Hon^{ble} the

Lord _WALPOLE_.

_My Good Lord_,

I Return Thanks to Heaven, which is in you, I mean your Taste, that would not continue, except it was cherish’d with Vertue, that Parent of Eternal Love; ’tis all Palate hungers after, intellectual Food, Generosity, Harmony; the lofty Lines of a sublime Pen: and these beautiful Perfections in you, have been the Chief Support of my Play. At this Time there are as many fine Poets in _England_ as ever there were; but they will not write, because they say there is nothing encourag’d but Noise and Nonsense. But I believe those Bards are mistaken; for so long as the Lord Duke of _Montagu_, Yourself, and Mr. _Charles Stanhope_ live, fine Poetry will not want Encouragement: tho’ I have nothing to boast of in my Play, but the Character of _Soarethereal_, yet you great Men, that shine among the Angels, did condescend to support me; and no one is more thankful than

_Your_ LORDSHIP’S

_very humble Servant_,

SAM. JOHNSON.

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PROLOGUE.

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By AMOS MEREDITH, Esq;

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Near is my Shirt, but nearer is my Skin.

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_Rules were by Coxcombs made to cramp the Mind } By Nature free, unfetter’d, unconfin’d, } She mounts a Flame, and flies, astride the Wind. } Through boundless space wings her Celestial Way, } And Eagle-ey’d confronts the Source of Day; } Criticks begone, avant ye Sons of Clay! } To every Star its Name and Course assign, } In narrow Bounds the swelling Tides confine, } And teach the Ruler of the Day to shine. } Sluggish the servile Mule sustains the Weight; } Wolves bait the Moon because she shines so bright; } And Owls are blinded with Excess of Light. } Unchain’d by Art with true Poetick Rage, } In Buskins highly rais’d, we tread the Stage; } With Fire from Heaven, to thaw the frozen Age. } The God of Number and melodious Strains, } Triumphant drives through Empyrean Plains, } Impetuous bound the Steeds nor hear the Reins } If Soar-æthereal’s Characters too high, } For mean Conception shocks the vulgar Eye, } Let filthy Mire accuse the Azure Sky. } Diamonds to Swine are despicable Things, } Lost to the Mole the Vernal Verdure Springs, } And Adders hiss tho’_ Senesino _sings. } The Priestess speaks of him that gilds the Skies; } Behold he comes, behold the God she cries: } And swells, and foams, and rolls her frantick Eyes. } Hark to the Noise a hundred Doors around, } Spontaneous jarr, the vaulted Roofs rebound, } And Words burst forth with more than mortal Sound._ }

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Persons of the Drama.

MEN.

Soarethereal. Hurlothrumbo. Dologodelmo. Darony. Urlandenny. Theorbeo. Lomperhomock. Darno. Primo. Puny. Temo. Col. Countermine. Genius. Spirit. Death. _Lord_ Flame.

WOMEN.

Cademore. Sermentory. Seringo. Lusingo. Cuzzonida.

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[Illustration]

_HURLOTHRUMBO_:

OR, THE

SUPER-NATURAL.

ACT I. SCENE I.

_Enter_ Dologodelmo _and_ Hurlothrumbo _meeting_.

_Dolo._ _Hurlothrumbo_, how goes the Muse?

_Hurlo._ _Dologodelmo_, have you heard the News?

_Dolo._ What News?

_Hurlo._ _Darno_, _Urlandenny_, and _Darony_, have coin’d their Estates into Money.

_Dolo._ But for what reason?

_Hurlo._ Certainly Treason.

_Dolo._ Pray describe yourself in Prose.

_Hurlo._ It will be describ’d in Blows. There’s more in the Wind Than the wise Philosophers can find.

_Dolo._ No Storms, no Rebellions, I hope.

_Hurlo._ Nothing less, ’tis Pride, curs’d Pride, but let them climb to fall.

_Dolo._ Pride, Pride is the Serpent’s Egg laid in the Hearts of all; but hatch’d by none but Fools! Pray what says the King to these Adventures?

_Hurlo._ Say! he says and he says not, cares and he cares not, he’s King and he’s no King; his high-born Soul is above the Sublunary World, he reigns, he rides in the Clouds, and keeps his Court in the Horizon; He’s Emperor of the superlative Heights, and lives in Pleasure among the Gods; he plays at Bowls with the Stars, and makes a Foot-ball of the Globe; he makes that to fly far, far out of the reach of Thought.

_Dolo._ But if he despises this World, and resides in the Climes above, how must we fill our empty Troops below?

_Hurlo._ Oh take no thought for that, for when the least Spark of the stifled Fire appears, then _Jupiter_, _Mars_, the King, will rise with all the Gods to keep the Rebels under: They’ll make Drums of the Elements and Skies, and beat up for Volunteers in Thunder.

_Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

_Ser._ Can you guess at the Cause of the King’s excessive Melancholy?

_Sem._ ’Tis Love, all Love; in his Travels he came to the Court of _Spain_, where he fell in Love with _Cademore_, the King’s most beautiful Daughter; and _Theorbeo_, her elder Brother, is link’d in Friendship with _Soarethereal_. The King of _Spain_ has promis’d his Daughter _Cademore_ in Marriage to the King of _France_; but _Theorbeo_’s Passion for our Soveraign, was the Cause of his helping his Sister in the Escape from the Arbitrary Power of a Father, and is daily expected to arrive in this City: So ’tis Fear, Hope, Love is the Cause of his Distress.

_Ser._ See, see, what frantick Man is this?

_Sem._ It is my Lord _Flame_, distracted in Love with you: Fall back, let us hear his Soliloquy.

_Enter_ Flame, _with a drawn Sword in his Hand, throws it on the Ground_.

_Fla._ Thou Key of my Soul, unlock me not, I will not die and leave her behind amongst corporeal Rivals; that she was dead, alive, amongst the purest Spirits: Oh that this too, oh too, too dear, tender fond Heart could yearn, and sigh no more! Constancy destroys me, Love makes me Heavenly, and Tears refine the Soul: as a Pilgrim I will travel till a Hermitage I find; I’ll mourn, I’ll wander to _Ovid_’s solitary Tomb; I’ll pity that poor unfortunate Man; I’ll think of her I love the most, and pour out my Tears upon him; there will I prostrate myself, and may I slumber till the heavenly Harmony wakes the sleepy dead.

[_Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

Oh! the deluding Creature, Stings me from every Feature; When you strive to gain me, You only mean to pain me; Cruel Deceiver, Heaven leave her, Let her not come above, To taste the Sweets of constant Love.

[_Exit._

_Sem._ Oh _Seringo_, entice not a Man to Love, except you design to marry: If a radiant Beam dart from the Fire of the Eye, ’twill touch his Inclination like Nitrous Powder, and flash through all his Veins, discompose his Faculties, and infect his Soul: I am sorry for this poor Man, ’tis dangerous to continue here, let us leave the place.

[_Exit._

[_Scene changes, and discovers the King Sleeping upon a Couch._

_Enter to him_ Dologodelmo.

_King._ Oh _Godelmo_, why hast thou call’d me home to myself?

_Dolo._ I came according to your Majesty’s Commands.

_King._ As in Dreams the Souls of Hermits in secret Extasies are catch’d away by Angels, so was my Spirit in transport charm’d by the Image I most admire; she retreated, and at a distance gaz’d and lov’d, then eagerly flying to my Arms, she stifled me with Kisses; but like to Sin you call’d me away from Heaven. Oh! my _Cademore_, that I might die always thus to live with thee; for when the Fetters of Slumber have link’d these Limbs and the Ground together, when the Chains of Sleep have bound this Body to the Earth; when these Eyes, these Ears are insensible, I have other Eyes that see, other Ears that hear, and myself rejoices when myself is dead.

[_The King sits down and pauses, then rises._

_Dolo._ The Solitarys wait without, and humbly desire admittance.

_King._ Do you know their Business?

_Dolo._ They come with sublime Tidings from the cœlestial World, and will yield your Majesty pleasure through their own Simplicities.

_King._ Let them appear. [_Exit_ Dolo.] These Men despise the Company of Mortals, and say they delight more in the Shadow of something, than to converse with a Nothing in Substance.

_Enter_ Dolo. _and six Solitarys_.

_Primo._ My Sovereign Lord, we think ourselves in Duty bound to inform you of all the Ills that threaten both your Person and your Crown, that seems to be surrounded by many Adversaries.

_King._ How are you inform’d of this?

_Primo._ In Parable Visionary, deliver’d down and explain’d in Hieroglyphicks.

_King._ But after what manner?

_Primo._ We all in one Night had the fame Vision; gazing stedfastly upon your Dominions, the Hills sunk down to Vales, and the Valleys rose up to Mountains, upon which a Giant stood, swelling huge with arroganting Poison; his horrid Visage reach’d the Skies, grasping a Sword in his Hand that flam’d from Earth to Heaven, glittering on high, and blaz’d in Elemental Fire, upon whose mighty Edge, Death rode triumphant: Then in Fury, as Lightning upon the Wing, slunk down, hissing through the Air, the Wind from which, blasted every Head of us, and this Head is you my Sovereign Lord.

_King._ Did this appear to all?

_Primo._ All, all, all.

[_Ex. Solit._

_King._ If Calamity be the Parent of Wisdom, why do the Afflicted depend on Dreams?

_Dolo._ Your Majesty has no cause to fear.

_King._ If _Hurlothrumbo_ is brave, there is no danger.

_Dolo._ Was not his Courage truly try’d in _Rome_.

_King._ But after what manner?

_Dolo._ By the Emperor’s Imperial Command he was forc’d into the Amphitheatre, there to be devoured by the hungry Jaws of a Lion; disarm’d he enter’d, taking from his Heel his Ammunition Spur, he wrench’d it wide, and gripe’d it thus.

_Enter_ Hurlo.

_King._ _Hurlothrumbo_, give me a Description of the Combat.

_Hurlo._ The Door of the Den was no sooner lifted up, but the Monster hugely rouz’d himself aloft, stalking gravely he enter’d, flinging from his Talons sedentary Pain, with Scarlet fiery Ogles ken’d all around; but when I saw the Beauty of _Greece_, my Heart was all Granade, I had an Army within, a Centry guarded every Pore, and this Compound of Elements thundred. The Lion came at me amain, with Jaws open, dreadful as the Mouth of Hell, he sprang aloft, I glanc’d, he mist me, then with rebound he turn’d, and by the Main I caught him as he flew, and over his Back I threw myself astride; then with my Knees I crush’d his Ribs and Heart together, and with my Right-hand Spur I cleft his Skull: I bruis’d the Pan of his Brain, till Flashes of Lightning flew swift from his Eyes; I stabb’d his Sight, he twisted, he grinn’d, he turn’d and loose he broke, bloodily blind as he was, in raging Storms, in circling Whirlwinds flew; his burning Heart, that swell’d with Anguish, Fury and Revenge; his Talons tore the Earth, rent the Flints, he gnaw’d the Ground, and Choler boiling over, churning Dust, Blood and Foam, he roar’d tremendous.

_King._ ’Tis a furious Description; but how did you conquer him?

_Hurlo._ My Coat I roll’d up thus, and hurl’d it to his Breast; then eagerly grasping the Prey, I march’d towards him, I spurn’d at his Heart; he reel’d, I retreated; he recover’d, I advanc’d; again I struck, then trembling, he disgorg’d a Flood of Gore, and stifling with the Stream, bolt upright he rose; I pursued my Strokes, he fainted, he sunk, he shiver’d, he died.

_King._ _Hurlothrumbo_, ’tis bravely done; search out into all the World, pick the Universe, bring to me every thing that’s noble in the Mind, empty of Ambition and full of Greatness, that I may feast their Bodies and satisfy my own Soul; for when my Crown adorns the Head of a worthy Man, then I enjoy it, and wear it truly, in the inward Raptures of my Heart.

_Hurlo._ ’Tis most certain the learned _Larmo_ is worthy of Honour.

_King._ I know him well, he has a thousand Perfections, though in him I discern the Spark of Avarice, it seem’d to me like the infernal Eye of _Lucifer_, ’tis a Canker that encreases and infects the Mind, let no such Man be trusted; give me he that is like _Theorbeo_, that has ventur’d and lost his Crown for his Friend: Is he yet arrived?

_Hurlo._ He is.

_King._ Go tell him, I’ll come and rejoice in his Presence.

[_Ex._ King _and_ Dolo.

_Enter_ Urlandenny _and_ Darno.

_Urlan._ _Darno_, a good Day to you, how prospers our Design?

_Darn._ Far exceeding our Expectation, I’ve sold my Estate for a hundred thousand Pounds; it is to be return’d for the same Money, if I require it, in seven Years.

_Urlan._ Mine is equally secured; this is a Defence against Ill, but now we’ll speak for thy self; I am inspir’d with a Thought that will overthrow the Government, that makes as strong as _Atlas_; I’ll make——

_Enter_ Flame.

_Fla._ The Flight takes me in the Head to give you a Description of the War of Angels, the black ones and the white ones; now you are of the dark kind, but they were conquer’d.

_Urlan._ How Prophetick the Man talks, as if he knew our Designs? The Tongues of Children, Fools and Madmen have often fortold my Fate.

_Darn._ You are superstitious.

_Fla._ And as I was saying, Army in Array against Army, stood solemn, profound, before the Cloudy Van, Expectation stood in Horrour, and _Satan_, with vast and haughty Strides advanc’d, came touring, arm’d in Adamant and Gold.

_Enter_ Darony.

_Dar._ Who do you mimick, my Lord?

_Fla._ The Devil, Sir.

_Dar._ I resent it.

_Fla._ Draw.

_Urlan._ Hold, he is repeating a Passage in _Milton_; his Wit is borrow’d, he’s a Moon-light.

_Dar._ I’ll excuse him as a Lunatick.

_Urlan._ I recommend to thee a Miss, as a Specifick to assuage this mighty Fever in the Brain.

_Fla._ I am unstain’d, not touch’d with any black Crime, above the World, upon a lofty Mountain, and next Neighbour to the Sun.

_Urlan._ Now condescend the Woman lies two Yards below you, go down, tick, toy and play with her, ’twill cool your Blood, and sweeten your sour Juices.

_Fla._ Then how shall I ascend again to my grand Original Height? ’tis up Hill; Woman pulls, Nature hangs heavy upon the feeble Soul, and Resolutions weak; no, Conscience is an intellectual Caul that covers the Heart, upon which all the Faculties sport in Terror, like Boys that dance upon the Ice, if one cracks, another breaks, then all together plunge in over Head and Ears most horrid.

[_Ex._ Flame.

_Urlan._ Pray what new Adventures at Court?

_Dar._ A poor King is arrived at Court, and _Dologodelmo_ Oratorys high Encomiums upon the mighty _Soarethereal_, declares he’s like the glorious Sun, extends his Beams to all and every part of the World; and as he rides along the _Meridian_ Course, every feeble Plant beneath him is cherished, and rises up revived.

_Urlan._ The Simile is not good: The Sun gives Life to the Plants that reside far off, but those that grow under him are burn’d, and scorch’d to Ashes. ’Tis plain, Foreigners are most encourag’d, and we that pay the Taxes receive not the Benefit of Office; _Soarethereal_ declares all the World are his Country-men, and he that has the greatest Soul, to him is the nearest a-kin: but to the Purpose, what’s to be done? The Mob of this City must be highly prejudic’d in our behalf.

_Dar._ They are all secure to a Man; I have distributed amongst them a hundred thousand Pounds; let’s away to the Lord _Urme_, he will strengthen our Design.

[_Ex._ Darony, Urlandenny, _and_ Darno.

SCENE, _Cademore_’s Apartment.

_Enter_ Cademore _and_ Lusingo.

_Lusin._ My good Lady prepare, the King comes.

_Cade._ O _Lusingo_! I could longer taste the Sweets of Expectation dear, I’d view the beautiful œconomy of this Court, his Person at a distance, and Motion of his Soul, that moves and reigns in my Breast; we may enjoy the greatest Bliss too too soon. Was I to leave this World, and take my Flight to the celestial Heights, I’d first visit yon distant Moon; then tow’ring high I’d visit the brightest Situation of the Sun; then climb amazed up to the Stars; I’d taste the Sweets of every Orb, before I enter’d Heaven.

[_Ex._

_Enter_ King, Theorbeo, _and_ Hurlothrumbo.

_King._ _Theorbeo_, thy constant Heart mourns for thy Mistress, not for the Loss of thy Crown; the Powers are jealous of Love like thine, and Heaven is only worthy of it, and only capable to make a return.

_Theo._ Your Majesty talks like a separate Soul, not like one that is cloathed with Nature.

_King._ I beg pardon, I touch your Sore; I long to attend thee to the Throne with a hundred thousand Men.

_Theo._ I return your Majesty thanks; yet hope, that no one will venture his Life for me: the Life of a Friend is more than a Kingdom.

_King._ Venture my Life! what is my Life? let me not pass through this World, the common Road to Eternity; fade away through the blasting Word from on high, that mingles with the Air, and makes all Men mortal; I had much rather surrender this Life up an offering, and die in the Service of some dear Friend; in Vehemency of Spirit, and Fervency of Friendship, I could plunge through a Flood of Fire to deliver a Friend from the Jaws of a Lion.

_Theo._ I do believe ’tis in your Majesty’s Power to establish me upon my Throne; but all Nature in my Breast is chang’d; that which is Gall to another, is Honey to me: Life is bitter, and makes Death sweet. What is a Post of Honour to a Man who thinks he has enough, and has no Ambition? He that will be rich, must destroy Ambition; Ambition is a Monster not to be fed, never satisfied till he is starved out.

_King._ ’Tis true, _Hurlo_; from whence proceeds Ambition?

_Hurlo._ A Man’s Heart and his Bladder changes Places.

_King._ And what is Honour?

_Hurlo._ Honour is, and it is not; yet Honour is to be found.

_Theo._ My Intellect has rang’d in pursuit of Honour throughout the Universe, nay, even to the Skies, but found it not.

_Hurlo._ O it’s on t’other side, my Lord.

_King._ O _Theorbeo_, I admire how a Man can so much despise Power?

_Theo._ True Power lies in the Mind, or Strength that can sway the Faculties.

_King._ I beg pardon for interrupting; I must beg leave to see the Lady your Sister.

[_Ex._ King, Theo. _and_ Hurlo.

[_Scene changes, and discovers_ Cademore, Seringo, _and_ Lusingo.

_Enter_ King, _and salutes_ Cademore.

_Cade._ Oh he’s here! O my Soul starts, and my Heartstrings shiver!

_King._ O my _Cademore_, now I live: as that great Sun revives this lower World, and makes all Nature rejoice in his Presence; so you cherish and revive my Heart, all my Faculties rise up in Raptures: A thousand sublime Thoughts spring up in my Soul: Is there any thing in my Kingdom can yield you Pleasure.

_Cad._ Every thing here is pleasing to me. _Seringo_, Let the King hear the musical Description of _Arsinoe_’s Dancing.

Ser. _Brisk and Airy, tript with a_ Fairy _Air of Scorn, Sink in the rising, all surprizing Charms adorn. Swift and Gay in every Part, And flies away with every Heart: Return’d them back with cold Despair, Which much reviv’d the jealous Fair._

_The End of the First Act._

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[Illustration]

ACT II.

_Enter_ Urlandenny _and_ Darony.

_Daro._ What News, my Lord?

_Urlan._ All things are in readiness according to your desire; _Darno_ is raising an Army in the _North_, _Lomporhomock_ is now landing in the _South_ with 20000 Men, and when the Tidings reach the King’s Ears, he’ll extend his Army to the _North_ and to the _South_; then, when his Forces have left the City, the 500 Men which I have hired, for what Purpose they know not, but exactly at two a-Clock in the Morning, each Man is to fire a Gun upon the House-top; this repeated three times, will drive every wandering Soul home to his Body, and raise him from Sleep surprized.

_Daro._ That’s true.

_Urlan._ You and I with a small Body of Men, will march through the City with a Shout, saying, The City is surrounded with Foreigners, Fire and Sword, Fire and Sword! rise, rise quickly, rise to Arms.

_Daro._ That’s good; then in a moment’s time we shall be at the Head of 100,000 Men.

_Urlan._ We’ll plunder Misers Houses, distribute their Bags, hurling the Coin among them, like Hounds besmear’d with the blood of Prey, mount Resolution upon the Heart, ride furiously, Whip and Spur, and with deep mouth’d Tones, full Cry, and in that Vehemence of Spirit, they will devour a savage Lion. We’ll prejudice them against the King, lead them to the Court, and take possession of all.

_Daro._ So farewel, my Lord; remember two a-clock.

[_Exeunt severally._

_Enter_ Sementory _and_ Seringo.

_Serin._ _Sementory_, to thy Tire.

_Sem._ I’m weary of Dress, pall’d with Pleasure, sick of the event of vain Hopes: Some say that Marriage is made in Heaven; but ’tis my Opinion, if all the Harlots were sent to the Grand _Turk_, there would be more Weddings celebrated in Heaven than there are; I perceive the Fire of the Men is all out.

_Serin._ Very true, _Sementory_.

_Sem._ They gaze upon a Woman, as they do upon a Bill of Fare after Dinner.