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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


PRESIDENT. 
The  Rt.  Hon.  The  Earl  of  Ellesmere. 

VICE-PRESIDENTS. 

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The  Rt.  Hon.  The  Earl  Howe.  Sir  James  Knight  Bruce. 

COUNCIL,  1851. 

William  Ayrton,  Esq.,  F.R.S.  ^ The  Rev.  W.  Harness. 

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W.  D.  Cooper,  Esq.,  F.S.  A.  ^  ^OSl^/fo  ^l\          Es1 

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of  St.  Paul's.  \         (ff1,'.,"      ^tl~~  "A        /  *Iis  Excellency  M.  De  Silvain 

John  Forster,  Esq.  N.  {T®W!B®3®  /  Van  De  vVeyer. 

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price  to  Non-Members  is  One  Pound. 


THE 


TWO  PLAYS 


THOMAS  HEYWOOD. 


WITH   AN   INTRODUCTION   AND   NOTES, 


BY 


J.  PAYNE  COLLIER,  ESQ. 


LONDON: 
PRINTED  FOR  THE  SHAKESPEARE  SOCIETY 

1851. 


F.  Slioherl,  .Tun.,  Printer  to  H.R.tl.  Prince  Albert,  Rupert  Street,  Haymarket. 


PR 


COUNCIL 

OF 

THE    SHAKESPEARE    SOCIETY. 


THE  EARL  OF  ELLESMERE. 


THE  RT.  HON.  THE  EARL  OF  CLARENDON. 
THE  RT.  HON.  THE  EARL  OF  GLENGALL. 
THE  RT.  HON.  THE  EARL  HOWE. 
THE  RT.  HON.  LORD  BRAYBROOKE. 
THE  RT.  HON.  THE  VICE-CHANCELLOR  SIR  JAMES 
KNIGHT  BRUCE. 

Council. 

WILLIAM  AYRTON,  ESQ.,  F.R.S.,  F.S.A. 

ROBERT  BELL,  ESQ. 

BAYLE  BERNARD,  ESQ. 

J.  PAYNE  COLLIER,  ESQ.,  V.P.S.A.,  DIRECTOR. 

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J.  O.  HALLIWELL,  ESQ.,  F.R.S.,  F.S.A. 

THE  REV.  WILLIAM  HARNESS. 

JAMES  HEY  WOOD,  ESQ.,  M.P. 

DOUGLAS  JERROLD,  ESQ. 

CHARLES  KNIGHT,  ESQ. 

WILLIAM  CHARLES  MACREADY,  ESQ. 

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181918 


The  Council  of  the  Shakespeare  Society  desire  it  to  be  understood 
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INTRODUCTION. 


It  is  only  necessary  to  say  a  few  words,  by  way  of 
preface  to  the  following  plays. 

Hey  wood  wrote  four  dramas  connected  in  subject 
and  founded  upon  the  mythology  of  the  ancients; 
viz. : — 

1.  "  The  Golden  Age,"  which  came  from  the  press 
in  1611,  4to; 

2.  "  The  Silver  Age,"  which  came  from  the  press 
in  1613,  4to; 

3.  "  The  Brazen  Age,"  which  also  came  from  the 
press  in  1613,  4to. ;  and 

4.  "  The  Iron  Age,"  which  did  not  come  from  the 
press  until  1632,  4to. 

The  two  first  are  comprised  in  our  present  volume ; 
and,  as  none  of  them  were  reprinted,  these  have  been 
the  sole  copies  consulted,  in  our  re-impression.  All 
have  the  name  of  the  author  upon  the  title-page. 

The  three  first  probably  were  in  existence  when 
"The  Silver  Age"  appeared;  but  "  The  Iron  Age  " 
seems  to  have  been  of  later  composition,  and  to  have 
been  called  for  by  the  success  of  its  predecessors. 
The  characters  in  all  were  extremely  numerous ;  and 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

in  the  address  "  to  the  Reader,"  before  "  The  Iron 
Age,"  the  Author  states  that,  for  their  due  representa- 
tion, it  had  been  necessary  to  unite  two  companies 
of  performers.  It  will  be  obvious,  also,  that  the 
stage-appliances  of  the  time  must  have  been  severely 
taxed ;  and  we  may,  perhaps,  wonder,  in  some  scenes, 
that,  in  the  simplicity  of  our  early  theatres,  adequate 
means  of  exhibition  could  have  been  afforded. 

The  popularity  of  the  works  is  undoubted,  and  is 
testified,  among  other  things,  by  the  Author  himself. 

Our  next  issue,  in  pursuance  of  our  design  to  re- 
publish  the  whole  of  Heywood's  dramatic  works,  will 
be  the  Brazen  and  Iron  Ages.  The  last  consists  of 
two  parts. 

The  Shakespeare  Society  is  indebted  to  the  Duke 
of  Devonshire  for  the  use  of  the  old  editions  of  these 
Plays  in  his  Grace's  library. 

J.  P.  C. 


THE 


GOLDEN     AGE 


OB, 


The  Hues  of  Jupiter  and  Saturne,  with 
the  defining  of  the  Heathen  Gods. 


As  it  hath  beene  sundry  times  acted  at  the  Red 
Bull,  by  the  Queenes  Maiesties  Seruants. 


Written  by  THOMAS  HEYWOOD. 


LONDON, 

Printed  for  William  Barrenger,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his 
Shop  neare  the  great  North-doore  of  Pauls.     1611. 


To  the  Reader. 

This  Play  coming  accidentally  to  the  Press,  and  at  length 
having  notice  thereof,  I  was  loth  (finding  it  mine  own)  to 
see  it  thrust  naked  into  the  world,  to  abide  the  fury  of  all 
weathers,  without  either  title  for  acknowledgment,  or  the 
formality  of  an  Epistle  for  ornament.  Therefore,  rather  to 
keep  custom  than  any  necessity,  I  have  fixed  these  few  lines 
in  the  front  of  my  book ;  neither  to  approve  it,  as  tasteful  to 
every  palate,  nor  to  disgrace  it,  as  able  to  relish  none ;  only 
to  commit  it  freely  to  the  general  censure  of  readers,  as  it 
hath  already  passed  the  approbation  of  auditors.  This  is  the 
Golden  Age,  the  eldest  brother  of  three  Ages  that  have  adven- 
tured the  Stage,  but  the  only  yet,  that  hath  been  judged  to 
the  press.  As  this  is  received,  so  you  shall  find  the  rest ; 
either  fearful  further  to  proceed,  or  encouraged  boldly  to 

follow. 

Yours  ever, 

T.  H. 


THE  NAMES  OF  PERSONS  PRESENTED 
IN  THE  PLAY.1 

HOMER. 

SATURN  ) 

„,  >  two  Brothers. 

TITAN    j 

Two  Lords  of  Crete. 

VESTA,  Mother  of  SATURN. 

SIBYLLA,  Wife  to  SATURN. 

LTCAON,  Son  to  TITAN. 

CALISTO,  Daughter  to  LYCAON. 

JUPITER. 

JUNO. 

MELLISEUS,  King  of  Kpire. 

ARCHAS,  Son  to  CALISTO  and  JUPITER. 

DIANA. 

ATLANTA. 

EGEON          ")  _ 

_^  V  Sons  to  TITAN. 

ENCELADUS  j 

NEPTUNE,     ) 

_,  >  Brothers  to  JUPITER. 

PLUTO          j 

ACRISIUS,  King  of  Arges. 

DANAE,  Daughter  to  ACRISIUS. 

King  TROOS. 

GANIMEDE. 

A  Lord  of  Arges. 

Two  Lords  of  Pelasgia. 

Four  Beldams. 

Clown. 

Satyrs,  Nurse,  Nymphs. 

1  This  is  as  the  list  of  characters  stands  in  the  old  copy,  with 
the  exception,  that  the  spelling  of  some  of  the  names  is  corrected. 


THE    GOLDEN    AGE; 

WITH 

THE  LIVES  OF  JUPITER  AND  SATURN, 


ACTUS  I.     SOENA  I. 
Enter  old  HOMER. 

The  Gods  of  Greece,  whose  deities  I  raised 

Out  of  the  earth,  gave  them  divinity, 

The  attributes  of  sacrifice  and  prayer, 

Have  given  old  Homer  leave  to  view  the  world, 

And  make  his  own  presentment.     I  am  he 

That  by  my  pen  gave  heaven  to  Jupiter ; 

Made  Neptune's  trident  calm  the  curled  waves  ; 

Gave  ^Eolus  lordship  o'er  the  warring  winds ; 

Created  black-hair'd  Pluto  King  of  Ghosts, 

And  regent  o'er  the  kingdoms  fix'd  below. 

By  me  Mars  wars,  and  fluent  Mercury 

Speaks  from  my  tongue :  I  plac'd  divine  Apollo 

Within  the  Sun's  bright  chariot :  I  made  Venus 

Goddess  of  Love,  and  to  her  winged  son 

Gave  several  arrows,  tipp'd  with  gold  and  lead. 

What  hath  not  Homer  done  to  make  his  name 

Live  to  eternity  ?     I  was  the  man 

That  flourish'd  in  the  world's  first  infancy, 

When  it  was  young,  and  knew  not  how  to  speak, 


6  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT.  I. 

I  taught  it  speech  and  understanding  both, 

Even  in  the  cradle.     Oh  !  then  further  me, 

You  that  are  in  the  world's  decrepit  age, 

When  it  is  near  his  universal  grave, 

To  sing  an  old  song ;  and  in  this  Iron  Age 

Show  you  the  state  of  the  first  golden  world. 

I  was  the  Muses'  patron,  learning's  spring, 

And  you  shall  once  more  hear  old  Homer  sing.  [Exit.'] 

Enter  two  Lords. 

1  Lord.  The  old  Uranus,  son  of  the  Air  and  Day, 
Is  dead,  and  left  behind  him  two  brave  sons, 
Titan  and  Saturn, 

2  Lord.  Titan  is  the  eldest, 

And  should  succeed  by  the  true  right  of  birth. 

1  Lord.  But  Saturn  hath  the  hearts  of  all  the  people, 
The  kingdom's  high  applause,  his  mother's  love: 

The  least  of  these  are  steps  unto  a  crown. 

2  Lord.  But  how   will    Titan    bear   him  in    these 

troubles, 

Being  by  nature  proud  and  insolent, 
To  see  the  younger  seated  in  his  throne, 
And  he,  to  whom  the  true  right  appertains 
By  birth  and  law  of  nations,  quite  cast  off? 

1  Lord.  That  either  power  or  steel  must  arbitrate : 
Causes  best  friended  have  the  best  event. 
Here  Saturn  comes. 

Enter  SATUKN  and  VESTA,  with  Attendants. 

Sat.  Behold,  what  nature  scanted  me  in  years 
And  time,  below  my  brother,  your  applause 
And  general  love  fully  supplies  me  with, 
And  makes  me  to  his  crown  inheritable. 
I  choose  it  as  my  right,  by  gift  of  Heaven, 
The  people's  suffrage,  the  dead  king's  bequest, 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  7 

And  your  election. — Our  fair  mother  Queen, 
Against  all  these  what  can  twelve  moons  of  time 
Prevail  with  Titan  to  disherit  us  ? 

Vesta.  The  Cretan  people  with  shrill  acclamations 
Pronounce  thee  sovereign  o'er  their  lands  and  lives. 
Let  Titan  storm  and  threaten  strange  revenge, 
We  are  resolv'd  thy  honour  to  maintain. 

1  Lord.  Titan  thy  ruin  shall  attempt  in  vain : 
Our  hearts  adhere  with  Vesta's,  our  late  Queen, 
According  to  our  sovereign's  late  bequest, 
To  kneel  to  Saturn. 

Sat.  We  accept  your  loves, 
And  we  will  strive  by  merit  to  exceed  you 
In  just  requital  of  these  favours  done. 

[A  noise  of  tumult  within. 

Vesta.  Arm,  lords  !  I  hear  the  voice 
Of  Titan,  storming  at  this  strange  election. 

Enter  TITAN,  LYCAON,  and  others. 

Titan.  Descend,  proud  upstart,  trick'd  up  in  stolen 

weeds, 

Deck'd  in  usurped  state  and  borrow'd  honours. 
Resign  them  to  the  owner — that's  to  me. 

8at.  Titan,  keep  off.     I  charge  thee,  near  me  not, 
Lest  I  thy  bold  presumption  seal  with  blood. 

Titan.  A  crown's  worth  tugging  for,  and  I  will  ha't, 
Though  in  pursuit  I  dare  my  ominous  fate. 

Lye.  Down  with  the  usurper  ! 

Vesta.  Saturn  here  shall  stand 
Iinmoveable,  upheld  by  Vesta's  hand. 

Titan.  Am  I  not  eldest  ? 

Vesta.  Ay,  but  young'st  in  brain. 
Saturn  the  crown  hath  seiz'd,  and  he  shall  reign. 

Titan.  Am  I  a  bastard,  that  my  heritage 
Is  wrested  from  me  by  a  younger  birth  ? 


8  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  I. 

Hath  Vesta  played  the  ad ul tress  with  some  stranger? 

If  I  be  the  eldest  from  Uranus'  loins, 

Your  maiden  issue,  why  am  I  debarred 

The  law  of  nations  ?     Am  I  Vesta's  son  ? 

Why  doth  not  Vesta,  then,  appear  a  mother  ? 

Was  younger  Saturn  bedded  in  your  womb 

Nearer  your  heart  than  I,  that  he's  affected, 

And  I  despis'd  ?     If  none  of  these,  then,  grant  me 

What  justice  wills,  my  interest  in  the  crown. 

Or  if  you  will  make  me  an  outcast,  if  my  mother 

Forget  the  love  she  owes,  I  shall  abandon 

The  duty  of  a  son.     If  Saturn  prove 

Unnatural  I'll  be  no  more  a  brother, 

But,  maugre  all  that  have  my  right  withstood, 

Revenge  my  wrongs,  and  make  my  way  through  blood. 

Sat.  Titan,  we  both  acknowledge  thee  a  brother, 
And  Vesta's  son,  which  we'll  express  in  love : 
But  since,  for  many  virtues,  growing  in  me 
That  have  no  life  in  you,  the  Queen,  the  peers, 
And  ah*  the  people,  with  loud  suffrages 
Have  shrill'd  their  aves  high  above  the  clouds, 
And  styl'd  me  king,  we  should  forget  their  loves, 
Not  to  maintain  their  strange  election. 
Advise  you,  therefore,  since  this  bold  adventure 
Is  much  above  your  strength,  to  arm  yourself 
In  search  of  future  honours  with  our  love ; 
For  what  can  Titan  do  against  a  people  ? 

Vesta.  Saturn  adviseth  well :  list  to  his  counsel. 

Titan.  If  my  own  land  prove  thus  unnatural, 
I'll  purchase  foreign  aid. 

1  Lord.  Rather  compound. 

Sat.  Let  Titan  make  demand  of  any  thing, 
Saving  our  crown,  he  shall  enjoy  it  freely. 

Vesta.  Titan,  your  brother  offers  royally ; 
Accept  his  love. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 

Titan.  To  lose  a  crown  includes 
The  loss  of  all  things. — What  should  I  demand? 

Lye.  This  grant  him,  Saturn,  since  thy  insinuation 
Hath  wrought  him  quite  out  of  the  Cretans'  hearts, 
That  Titan's  warlike  issue  may  succeed  thee. 

Titan.  Lycaon,  well  advis'd :  he  during  life 
Shall  reign  in  peace,  no  interruption 
Shall  pass  from  Titan  to  disturb  his  reign, 
So  to  our  giant  race  thou  wilt  assure 
The  crown,  as  due  by  right  inheritance. 

Sat.  To  cut  off  all  hostile  effusion 
Of  human  blood,  which  by  our  difference 
Must  needs  be  spilt  upon  the  barren-  earth, 
"We'll  swear  to  this  accord. 

Titan.  Condition'd  thus ; 
That  to  deprive  all  future  enmity 
In  our  succeeding  issue,  thy  male  children 
Thou  in  their  cradle  strangle. 

Sat.  Kill  my  sons  ! 

Titan.  Or  swear  to  this,  or  all  our  warlike  race, 
Dispers'd  in  several  kingdoms,  I'll  assemble 
To  conquer  thee,  and  from  thy  ambitious  head 
Tear  that  usurped  crown. 

Sat.  Titan,  thy  friendship 

We'll  buy  with  our  own  blood :  all  our  male  children 
(If  we  hereafter  shall  have  any  born) 
Shall  perish  in  their  births.     To  this  we  swear, 
As  we  are  King  and  Saturn. 

Titan.  I  the  like, 
As  I  am  Titan  and  Uranus'  son. 
This  league  confirm'd,  all  my  allies  I'll  gather, 
Search  foreign  climes  in  which  I'll  plant  my  kin, 
Scorning  a  seat  here,  where  I  am  despised, 
-  To  live  a  subject  to  a  younger  birth, 
Nor  bow  to  that  which  is  my  own  by  due. 


10  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  I. 

Saturn,  farewell :  I'll  leave  to  thee  thy  state, 
Whilst  I  in  foreign  kingdoms  search  my  fate. 
Think  on  thy  oath. 

Sat.  First  stay  with  us  and  feast. 
Titan  this  day  shall  be  King  Saturn's  guest.    [Exeunt.'] 

Enter  the  Clown  and  a  Nurse. 

Clown.  There  is  no  dallying :  you  must  come  with  all 
speed,  for  Madame  Sibylla  is  grown  a  great  woman. 

Nurse.  That  is  without  question,  for  she  is  now  a 
queen. 

Clown.  Nay,  she  is  greater  than  many  queens  are ; 
for  though  you  may  think  she  is  with  ancient  folks,  yet 
I  can  assure  you  she  is  with  child.  You  may  imagine, 
being  now  but  morning,  she  is  new  risen,  yet  'tis  thought 
that  ere  noon  she  will  be  brought  a-bed.  I  never  heard 
she  was  committed  to  prison,  yet  'tis  looked  every  hour 
when  she  shall  be  delivered ;  and  therefore,  Nurse,  I 
was  sent  to  you  in  all  haste. 

Nurse.  Is  she  so  near  her  time  ? 

Clown.  Yes ;  and  yet  'tis  thought  she  will  notwith- 
standing hold  out,  because  she  is  groaning. 

Nurse.  Your  reason. 

Clown.  Because  you  know  the  proverb — a  grunting 
horse  and  a  groaning  wife  never  deceive  their  master. — 
Say,  will  you  make  haste,  Nurse  ? 

Nurse.  What's  the  best  news  abroad  ? 

Clown.  The  best  news  abroad  is,  that  the  Queen  is 
likely  to  keep  at  home ;  and  is  it  not  strange  that  half 
an  hour's  being  abroad  should  make  a  woman  have  a 
month's  mind  to  keep  in?  But  the  worst  news  is,  that 
if  the  King  have  a  young  prince,  he  is  tied  to  kill  it  by 
oath :  but  if  his  majesty  went  drunk  to  bed  and  got  a 
girl,  she  hath  leave  to  live  till  she  die,  and  die  when  she 
can  live  no  longer. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ]  1 

Nurse.  That  covenant  was  the  most  unnatural 
That  ever  father  made.     One  lovely  boy 
Hath  felt  the  rigour  of  that  strict  decree ; 
And  if  this  second  likewise  be  a  son, 
There  is  no  way  but  death. 

Clown.  I  can  tell  you  more  news.  The  King  hath 
sent  to  the  Oracle,  to  know  whether  my  lady  be  with 
child  of  a  boy  or  a  girl,  and  what  their  fortunes  shall 
be.  The  Lord  that  went  is  looked  for  every  day  to 
return  with  his  answer.  It  is  so  gossipped  in  the 
Queen's  chamber,  I  can  tell  you.  Oh,  Nurse !  we  have 
the  bravest  King,  if  thou  knewest  all. 

Nurse.  Why,  I  pray  thee  ? 

Clown.  Let  his  virtues  speak  for  himself.  He  hath 
taught  his  people  to  sow,  to  plough,  to  reap  corn,  and 
to  scorn  acorns  with  their  heels ;  to  bake  and  to  brew. 
We  that  were  wont  to  drink  nothing  but  water,  have 
the  bravest  liquor  at  court  as  passeth.  Besides,  he 
hath  devised  a  strange  engine  called  a  bow  and  arrow, 
that  a  man  may  hold  in  his  hand,  and  kill  a  wild  beast 
a  great  way  off,  and  never  come  in  danger  of  his  clutches. 
I'll  tell  you  a  strange  thing,  Nurse.  Last  time  the 
King  went  a-hunting,  he  killed  a  bear,  brought  him 
home  to  be  baked  and  eaten.  A  gentlewoman  of  the 
court,  that  fed  hungerly  upon  this  pie,  had  such  a 
rumbling  and  roaring  in  her  guts,  that  her  entrails  were 
all  in  a  mutiny,  and  could  not  be  appeased :  no  physic 
would  help  her.  What  did  the  King  but  caused  an  ex- 
cellent mastiff  to  be  knocked  in  the  head,  and  dressed, 
gave  it  to  the  gentlewoman,  of  which  when  she  had  well 
eaten,  the  flesh  of  the  mastiff  worried  the  bear  in  her 
belly,  and  ever  since  her  guts  have  left  wambling.  But 
come,  come;  I  was  sent  in  haste:  the  Queen  must 
needs  speak  with  you. 

[Exeunt. 


12  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  I. 

Enter  SATURN,  with  wedges  of  gold  and  silver,  models  of 
$hips  and  buildings,  bow  and  arrows,  $c.  His  Lords 
with  him. 

Sat.  You  shall  no  more  be  lodg'd  beneath  the  trees, 
Nor  chamber  underneath  the  spreading  oaks. 
Behold  !  I  have  devis'd  you  forms  for  tools 
To  square  out  timber,  and  perform  the  art 
Of  architecture,  yet  unknown  till  now. 
I'll  draw  you  forms  of  cities,  towns,  and  towers, 
For  use  and  strength :  behold  the  models  here. 

1  Lord.  Saturn's  inventions  are  divine,  not  human. 
A  godlike  spirit  hath  inspir'd  his  reign. 

Sat.  See,  here,  a  second  art  of  husbandry, 
To  till  the  earth,  to  plough,  to  sow,  to  plant, 
Devis'd  by  Saturn.     Here  is  gold,  refin'd 
From  grosser  metals ;  silver,  brass,  and  tin, 
With  other  minerals  extract  from  earth. 
I  likewise  have  found  out  to  make  your  brooks, 
Rivers,  and  seas,  by  practice  navigable. 
Behold  a  form  to  make  your  crares  and  barks 
To  pass  huge  streams  in  safety,  dangerless. 

2  Lord.  Saturn  is  a  god. 

Sat.  The  last,  not  least,  this  use  of  archery ; 
The  stringed  bow  and  nimble-feather'd  shaft. 
By  this  you  may  command  the  flying  fowl 
And  reach  her  from  on  high  :  this  serves  for  war, 
To  strike  and  wound  thy  foeman  from  afar. 

[A  loud  shout  within. 
What  means  this  acclamation  ? 

1  Lord.  'Tis  thy  people, 
Divinest  Saturn,  furnish'd  with  these  uses, 
(More  than  the  gods  have  lent  them)  by  thy  means, 
Proclaim  to  thee  a  lasting  deity, 
And  would  have  Saturn  honour'd  as  a  god. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  13 

Sat.  We'll  study  future  profits  for  their  use, 
And  in  our  fresh  inventions  prove  divine. 
But  gods  are  never  touch'd  with  my  suspires, 
Passions,  and  throbs :  their  godlike  issue  thrive, 
Whilst  I,  unmanlike,  must  destroy  my  babes. 
Oh,  my  strict  oath  to  Titan  !  which  confounds 
All  my  precedent  honours.     One  sweet  babe, 
My  youngest  Ops,  hath  felt  the  bloody  knife, 
And  perish'd  in  his  swathing ;  and  my  Queen 
Swells  with  another  infant  in  her  womb, 
Ready  to  taste  like  rigour. — Is  that  lord 
Return'd  from  Delphos  yet? 

2  Lord.  He  is. 
Sat.  Admit  him. 

Enter  a  Lord. 

Now,  what  doth  the  Oracle 
Speak  by  the  Delphian  priest  ? 

3  Lord.  Thus,  mighty  Saturn. 
After  our  ceremonious  rites  performed, 
And  sacrifice  ended  with  reverence, 

A  murmuring  thunder  hurried  through  the  temple, 
When  fell  a  pleasant  shower,  whose  silver  drops 
Fill'd  all  the  altar  with  a  roseate  dew. 
In  this  amazement  thus  the  Delphian  God 
Spake  from  the  incens'd  altar — Lord  of  Crete, 
Thus  say  to  Saturn.     Sibyll,  his  fair  wife, 
Is  great  with  a  young  prince  of  noble  hopes, 
That  shall  his  father's  virtues  much  excel, 
Seize  on  his  crown,  and  drive  him  down  to  hell. 
Sat.  The  gods  (if  there  be  any  'bove  ourself) 
Envy  our  greatness,  and  of  one  that  seeks 
To  bear  himself  'bove  man,  makes  me  more  wretched 
Than  the  most  slavish  brute.     What  I  shall  my  Sibyll 
Bring  me  a  son  that  shall  depose  me,  then  ? 


14  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  I. 

He  shall  not ;  I  will  cross  the  deities ; 
I'll  tomb  th'  usurper  in  his  infant  blood. 
I'll  keep  my  oath :  Prince  Titan  shall  succeed. 
Maugre  the  envious  gods  the  brat  shall  bleed. 

Enter  VESTA,  sad. 

1  Lord.  Way  for  the  dowager  Queen ! 

Sat.  How  fares  our  mother? 
How  is't  with  fair  Sibylla,  our  dear  Queen  ? 

Vesta.  Your  Queen's  delivered. 

Sat.  Of  some  female  birth, 
You  deities,  I  beg.     Make  me,  oh,  heavens  ! 
No  more  inhuman  in  the  tragic  slaughter 
Of  princely  infants :  fill  my  decreed  number 
With  virgins,  though  in  them  I  lose  my  name, 
And  kingdom.     Either  make  her  barren  ever, 
Or  else  all  generative  power  and  appetite 
Deprive  me,  lest  my  purple  sin  be  styled 
Many  degrees  'bove  murder  ! — What's  her  birth? 

Vesta.  She's  the  sad  mother  of  a  second  son. 

Sat.  Be  ever  dumb :  let  everlasting  silence 
Tongue-tie  the  world :  all  human  joy  henceforth 
Turn  to  confus'd  and  undistinguish'd  sound 
Of  barking  hounds,  hoarse  bears,  and  howling  wolves, 
To  stop  all  rumour  that  may  fill  the  world 
With  Saturn's  tyrannies  against  his  sons. 

Vesta.  Ah  !  did  but  Saturn  see  yon  smiling  babe, 
He'd  give  it  life,  and  break  ten  thousand  oaths, 
Rather  than  suffer  the  sweet  infant  die. 
His  very  look  would  beg  a  quick  reprieve 
Even  of  the  tyrant  Titan :  saw  the  uncle 
With  what  a  graceful  look  the  infant  smiles, 
He'd  give  it  life,  although  he  purchas'd  it 
With  loss  of  a  great  kingdom. 

Sat.  Then,  spare  the  lad :  I  did  offend  too  much 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  15 

To  kill  the  first.     Tell  Sibyll  he  shall  live.— 
I'll  be  no  more  so  monstrous  in  my  rigour, 
Nor  with  the  blood  of  princes  buy  my  crown. 
No  more  their  cradles  shall  be  made  their  tombs, 
Nor  their  soft  swathes  become  their  winding-sheets. 
How  can  my  subjects  think  I'll  spare  their  lives, 
That  to  my  own  can  be  so  tyrannous. — 
Tell  Sibyll  he  shall  live. 

Vesta.  Vesta  will  be  that  joyful  messenger. 
Sat.  Stay  !  let  me  first  reward  the  Oracle. 
It  told  me  Sibyll  should  produce  a  son, 
That  should  his  father's  virtues  much  excel, 
Seize  on  my  crown,  and  drive  me  down  to  hell. 
Must  I,  then,  give  an  infant  traitor  life, 
To  sting  me  to  the  heart  ?     The  brat  shall  bleed. 

Vesta.  Sweet  son ! 

1  Lord.  Dear  sovereign  ! 

Sat.  He  that  next  replies, 
Mother  or  friend,  by  Saturn's  fury  dies. 
Away !     Fetch  me  his  heart.     Brim  me  a  bowl 
With  his  warm  blood. — Titan,  my  vow  I'll  keep : 
Life  newly  waken'd  shall  as  newly  sleep. 

Vesta.  Worse  than  a  brute,  for  brutes  preserve  then- 
own  ; 
Worse  than  the  worst  of  things  is  Saturn  grown. 

Sat.  Command  the  child  to  death. 

Vesta.  Tyrant,  I  will. 
Tigers  would  save  whom  Saturn  means  to  kill.    [_£>?>.] 

Sat.  It  is  my  son  whom  I  command  to  death ; 
A  prince  that  may  succeed  me  in  my  throne, 
And  to  posterity  revive  my  name. 
Call  Vesta  back,  and  bid  her  save  the  babe. 

1  Lard.  I'll  do't,  my  lord. 

Sat.  Yet  stay !— The  lad  to  kill 
I  save  my  oath  and  keep  my  kingdom  still. — 


16  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  I. 

Post  after,  and  charge  them  on  their  lives 
Send  me  the  babe's  blood  in  a  cup  of  gold, 
A  present  which  I'll  offer  to  the  gods. 
Delay  not ;  be  it  our  mother  or  our  wife, 
Forfeits  her  own  to  save  the  infant's  life. 

1  Lord.  I  shall  inform  them  so. 

Sat.  Is  this  a  deity, 

To  be  more  wretched  than  the  worst  on  earth  ? 
To  be  depriv'd  that  comfort  of  my  issue, 
Which  even  the  basest  of  my  land  enjoy  ? 
I'll  henceforth  for  my  rigour  hate  myself, 
Pleasures  despise,  and  joys  abandon  quite : 
The  purest  blood  that  runs  within  my  veins 
I'll  dull  with  thick  and  troubled  melancholy. 
I'll  war  with  comfort,  be  at  odds  with  solace, 
And  league  with  nothing  but  distemperature. 
Henceforth  my  unkemb'd  locks  shall  knot  in  curls  ; 
Razor,  nor  any  edge  shall  kiss  my  cheek, 
Until  my  chin  appear  a  wilderness, 
And  make  me  wild  in  knowledge  to  the  world. 
Perpetual  care  shall  cabin  in  my  heart. 
My  tyranny  I'll  punish  in  myself, 
And  save  the  gods  that  labour. — 
Saturn's  disturbance  to  the  world  shall  be 
That  planet  that  infuseth  melancholy.  [Exeunt.'] 

Enter  SIBYLLA,  lying  in  child-bed,  with  her  child  lying 
by  her.,  and  her  Nurse,  fyc. 

Sib.  Is  not  our  mother,  Vesta,  yet  return'd, 
That  made  herself  th'  unwilling  messenger, 
To  bring  the  King  news  of  his  new-born  son  ? 

Nurse.  Madam,  not  yet. 

Sib.  Mother,  of  all  that  mothers  were 
Most  wretched,  kiss  thy  sweet  babe  ere  he  die, 
That  hath  life  only  lent  to  suffer  death. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  17 

Sweet  lad,  I  would  thy  father  saw  thee  smile, 
Thy  beauty  and  thy  pretty  infancy 
Would  mollify  his  heart,  were't  hew'd  from  flint, 
Or  carv'd  with  iron  tools  from  the  Corsic  rock. 
Thou  laugh'st  to  think  thou  must  be  kill'd  in  jest. 
Oh !  if  thou  needs  must  die,  I'll  be  thy  murd'ress, 
And  kill  thee  with  my  kisses,  pretty  knave. 
And  canst  thou  laugh  to  see  thy  mother  weep, 
Or  art  thou  in  thy  cheerful  smiles  so  free, 
In  scorn  of  thy  rude  father's  tyranny  ? 

Nurse.  Madam,  the  King  hath  slain  his  first-born  son, 
Whom,  had  he  seen  alive,  he'd  not  have  given 
For  ten  such  kingdoms  as  he  now  enjoys. 
The  death  of  such  a  fair  and  hopeful  child 
Is  full  as  much  as  Titan  can  demand. 

Sib.  He  shall  spare  this  sweet  babe. — I'll  ransom  thee 
With  my  own  life  :  the  knife  that  pierceth  thee 
Will  wound  thy  mother's  side,  and  I  shall  feel 
The  least  sharp  stroke  from  his  offensive  steel. 

Nurse.  The  mother  Queen's  return'd? 

Enter  VESTA. 

Sib.  How  looks  she,  Nurse? 
Let  her  not  speak,  but  yet  a  little  longer 
My  hopes  hold  in  suspense. — Oh  me,  most  wretched  ! 
I  read  my  lord's  harsh  answer  in  her  eye ; 
Her  very  looks  tell  me  the  boy  must  die. — 
Say,  must  he  ?  must  he  ?     Kill  me  with  that  word, 
Which  will  wound  deeper  than  King  Saturn's  sword. 

Vesta.  The  boy  must  die. — 

Sib.  Oh! 

Nurse.  Look  to  the  Queen  !  she  faints. 

Vesta.  Oh !  let's  not  lose  the  mother  with  her  infant : 
The  loss  of  one's  too  much. 

Sib.  Oh !  where's  my  child  ? — 

c 


18  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  I. 

I'll  hide  thee  in  rny  bed,  my  bosom,  breast. 
The  murderer  shall  not  find  my  little  son. 
Thou  shalt  not  die  :  be  not  afraid,  my  boy. — 
Go,  tell  the  King  he's  mine  as  well  as  his, 
And  I'll  not  kill  my  part.     One  he  hath  slain 
In  which  I  had  like  interest ;  this  I'll  save, 
And  every  second  son  keep  from  the  grave. 

Enter  the  First  Lord. 

Vesta.  Forbear,  sir ;  for  this  place  is  privileged, 
And  only  free  for  women. 

1  Lord.  Yet  is  the  King's  command  'bove  your  decree, 
And  I  must  play  th'  intruder  'gainst  my  will. 
The  King  upon  your  lives  hath  charged  you 
To  see  that  infant  lad  immediately 
Receive  his  death :  he  stays  for  his  warm  blood 
To  offer  to  the  gods.     To  think  him  slain, 
Said  partner  of  your  sorrows  I  remain.  [Exit.] 

Nurse.  Madam,  you  hear  the  King  doth  threat  our 

lives : 
Let's  kill  him,  then. 

Sib.  Is  he  inexorable  ? 

Why  should  not  I  prove  as  severe  a  mother, 
As  he  a  cruel  father  ?     Since  the  King 
Hath  doom'd  him,  I,  the  Queen,  will  do't  myself. 
Give  me  the  fatal  engine  of  his  wrath ; 
I'll  play  the  horrid  murd'ress  for  this  once. 
I'll  kiss  thee  ere  I  kill  thee. — For  my  life, 
The  lad  so  smiles  I  cannot  hold  the  knife. 

Vesta.  Then,  give  him  me ;  I  am  his  grandmother, 
And  I  will  kill  him  gently :  this  sad  office 
Belongs  to  me,  as  to  the  next  of  kin. 

Sib.  For  Heaven's  sake,  when  you  kill  him,  hurt  him 
not. 

Vesta.  Come,  little  knave,  prepare  your  naked  throat. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  19 

I  have  not  heart  to  give  thee  many  wounds ; 
My  kindness  is  to  take  thy  life  at  once. — Now ! — 
Alack,  my  pretty  grandchild,  smil'st  thou  still  ? 
I  have  lust  to  kiss,  but  have  no  heart  to  kill. 

Nurse.  You  may  be  careless  of  the  King's  command, 
But  concerns  me,  and  I  love  my  life 
More  than  I  do  a  suckling's.     Give  him  me ; 
I'll  make  him  sure :  a  sharp  weapon  lend, 
I'll  quickly  bring  the  youngster  to  his  end. — 
Alack !  my  pretty  knave,  'twere  more  than  sin 
With  a  sharp  knife  to  touch  thy  tender  skin. — 
Oh,  madam !  he's  so  full  of  angel  grace, 
I  cannot  strike,  he  smiles  so  in  my  face. 

Sib.  I'll  wink  and  strike.     Come ;  once  more  reach 

him  hither, 

For  die  he  must ;  so  Saturn  hath  decreed. — 
'Las  !  for  a  world  I  would  not  see  him  bleed. 

Vesta.  Ne  shall  he  do ;  but  swear  me  secrecy, 
The  babe  shall  live  and  we  be  dangerless. 

Sib.  Oh  !  bless  me  with  such  happiness. 

Vesta.  Attend  me. 

The  King  of  Epire's  daughters,  two  bright  maids, 
Owe  me  for  many  favours  the  like  love. 
These  I  dare  trust :  to  them  I'll  send  this  babe, 
To  be  brought  up ;  but  not  as  Saturn's  son. 
Do  but  provide  some  trusty  messenger, 
My  honour  for  his  safety. 

Sib.  But  by  what  means  shall  we  delude  the  King  ? 

Vesta.  A  young  kid's  heart,  swimming  in  reeking 

blood, 

We'll  send  to  the  King,  and  with  such  forged  grief 
And  counterfeit  sorrow  shadow  it, 
That  this  imposture  never  shall  be  found. 

Sib.  Oh,  twice  my  mother  !  you  bestow  on  me 
A  double  life,  thus  to  preserve  my  boy. 

c  2 


20  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Nurse.  Give  me  the  child.     I'll  find  a  messenger 
Shall  bear  him  safe  to  Melliseus'  court. 

Vesta.  The  blood  and  heart  I'll  presently  provide, 
T'  appease  the  rage  of  Saturn. 

Sib.  First,  let's  swear 
To  keep  the  secret  from  King  Saturn's  ear. 

Vesta.  We  will ;  and  if  this  plot  pass  undiscovered, 
By  like  device  we  will  save  all  your  sons. 
About  our  tasks :  you  some  choice  friend  to  find, 
I  with  my  feigned  tears  the  King  to  blind. 

ACTUS  II.     SC^NA  I. 
Enter  HOMER. 

What  cannot  women's  wits?  they  wonders  can, 
When  they  intend  to  blind  the  eyes  of  man. 
Oh  !  lend  me  what  old  Homer  wants,  your  eyes, 
To  see  th'  event  of  what  these  Queens  devise. 

[The  dumb  show  sound. 

Enter  the  Nurse  and  Clown :  she  swears  him  to  secrecy, 
and  to  him  delivers  the  child,  and  a  letter  to  the  daughters 
of  King  MELLISEUS  :  they  part.  Enter,  at  one  door, 
SATURN,  melancholy,  with  his  Lords:  at  the  other, 
VESTA  and  the  Nurse,  who  with  counterfeit  passion 
present  the  King  a  bleeding  heart  upon  a  Jenifers  point, 
and  a  bowl  of  blood.  The  King  departs  one  way  in 
great  sorrow  ;  the  Ladies  the  other  way  in  great  joy. 

This  pass'd  so  current,  that  the  third  son  born, 
Call'd  Neptune,  was  by  like  device  preserved, 
And  sent  to  Athens,  where  he  liv'd  unknown, 
And  had  in  time  command  upon  the  seas. 
Pluto,  the  young'st,  was  sent  to  Tartary, 
Where  he  in  process  a  strange  city  built, 
And  call'd  it  Hell :  his  subjects,  for  their  rapine, 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  21 

Their  spoils  and  theft,  are  devils  term'd  abroad. 
Thus  melancholy  Saturn  hath  surviving 
Three  noble  sons  in  several  confines  placed, 
And  yet  himself  thinks  sonless :  one  fair  daughter, 
Hight  Juno,  is  his  sole  delight  on  earth. 
Think,  kind  spectators,  seventeen  summers  past, 
Till  these  be  grown  to  years,  and  Jupiter, 
Found  in  a  cave  by  the  great  Epire  king, 
Where  by  his  daughters  he  before  was  hid. 
Of  him  and  of  his  fortunes  we  proceed. 
My  journey's  long,  and  I  my  eyesight  want : 
Courteous  spectators,  lest  blind  Homer  stray, 
Lend  me  your  hands  to  guide  me  on  the  way. 

Enter  LYCAON  with  his  Lords ;  JUPITER  with  other  Lords 
of  Epire. 

Lye.  After  long  war  and  tedious  differences 
Betwixt  King  Melliseus  and  ourself, 
What  crave  the  Epire  lords  ? 

Jup.  This,  King  Lycaon. 

Since  truce  and  hostage  hath  ta'en  up  these  broils, 
And  ended  them  in  peaceful  amity, 
Since  all  the  damage  by  the  Epirians  done 
Is  on  our  part  abundantly  made  good, 
We  come,  Lycaon,  to  demand  the  like 
Of  thee  and  of  thy  kingdom ;  and  for  proof 
That  all  our  malice  is  extinct  and  dead, 
We  bring  thy  hostage  back,  demanding  ours. 

Lye.  Receive  him,  lords. — A  banquet  instantly  ! — 
You  shall  this  day,  brave  Epire,  feast  with  us, 
And  to  your  board  your  hostage  shall  be  brought, 
There  to  receive  him  freely.     Meantime  sit, 
And  taste  the  royal  welcomes  of  our  court. 

Jap.  Lycaon's  just  in  keeping  these  conditions 
So  strictly  with  a  reconciled  foe. 


22  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Lyc.  But,  fair  prince,  tell  me  whence  you  are  derived. 
I  never  heard  King  Melliseus  had 
A  prince  of  your  perfections. 

Jup.  This  demand 

Startles  my  blood,  being  born  I  know  not  where : 
Yet  that  I  am  of  gentry,  at  the  least, 
My  spirit  prompts  me,  and  my  noble  thoughts 
Give  me  approved  warrant.     Being  an  infant, 
Two  beauteous  ladies  found  me  in  a  cave, 
Where,  from  their  voluntary  charity, 
Bees  fed  me  with  their  honey :  for  that  cause 
The  two  bright  ladies  call'd  me  Jupiter, 
And  to  their  father  Melliseus  brought  me, 
My  foster-father,  who  hath  train'd  my  youth 
In  feats  of  arms  and  military  prowess ; 
And  as  an  instance  of  his  dearest  love 
Hath  honour'd  me  with  this  late  embassy. 

\_A  banquet  brought  in  with  the  limbs 
of  a  man  in  the  service. 

Lyc.  We  are  satisfied. — Princes,  sit  round  and  feast. 
You  are  this  day  Lycaon's  welcom'st  guest. 

Jup,  This  meat  distastes  me.     Doth  Lycaon  feast  us 
Like  cannibals  ?  feed  us  with  human  flesh  ? 
Whence  is  this  portent  ? 

Lyc.  Feed,  Epirians;  eat: 
Lycaon  feasts  you  with  no  common  meat. 

Jup.  But  where's  the  Epire  lord  we  left  as  hostage  ? 

Lyc.  Behold  him  here.     He's  at  the  table  with  you : 
This  is  the  Epire's  head,  and  these  his  limbs. 
Thinks  Melliseus,  that  Lycaon  can 
(Descended  of  the  valiant  Titanois) 
Bury  his  hatred,  and  entomb  his  spleen, 
Without  revenge  ?     Blood  in  these  wars  was  shed, 
And  for  that  blood  your  hostage  lost  his  head. 

Jup.  Bear  wrong  that  list,  and  those  can  brook  it  best : 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  23 

I  was  not  born  to  suff'rance.     Thoughts,  mount  high : 
A  king  hath  wrong'd  me,  and  a  king  shall  die. 

Lye.  Treason  !  treason  ! 

Jup.  Down  with  the  tyrant,  and  that  hateful  crew, 
And  in  their  murderous  breasts  your  blades  imbrue. 

Lye.  Our  guard ! 

[A  confused  fray  and  alarum.    JUPITER  and  the 
Epirians  beat  o^LYCAON  and  his  followers. 

Jup.  Lycaon's  fled.     Make  good  the  palace  gates, 
And  to  th'  amazed  city  bear  these  limbs, 
So  basely  by  the  tyrant  massacred. 
Haply,  his  subjects,  by  our  words  prepared, 
May  shake  their  bondage  off,  and  make  this  war 
The  happy  means  to  rid  a  tyrant  thence. 
Bear  in  your  left  hands  these  dismember'd  limbs, 
And  in  your  right  your  swords,  with  which  make  way. 
Courage,  brave  Epires,  and  a  glorious  day  !       \_Exeunt. 

Alarum.  LYCAON  makes  head  again,  and  is  beaten  off 
by  JUPITER  and  the  Epirians.  JUPITER  seizeth  the 
room  of  LYCAON. 

Jup.  Lycaon's  once  more  fled.     We,  by  the  help 
Of  these  his  people,  have  confin'd  him  hence. 
To  whom  belongs  this  crown  ? 

1  Lord.  To  Jupiter. 

2  Lord.  None  shall  protect  our  lives  but  Jupiter. 
All.  A  Jupiter  !    A  Jupiter ! 

Jup.  Nay,  we  are  far  from  such  ambition,  lords, 
Nor  will  we  entertain  such  royalty. 

1  Lord.  Fair  prince,  whom  heaven  hath  sent  by  miracle 
To  save  us  from  the  bloodiest  tyrannies 
That  e'er  were  practis'd  by  a  mortal  prince, 
We  tender  thee  our  fortunes.     Oh  !  vouchsafe 
To  be  our  lord,  our  governor,  and  king, 
Since  all  thy  people  jointly  have  agreed, 
None  of  the  tyrant's  issue  shall  succeed. 


24  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  II. 

All.  A  Jupiter  !  a  Jupiter! 

Jup.  We  not  refuse  the  bounty  of  the  heavens, 
Express'd  in  these  your  voices :  we  accept 
Your  patronage,  and  'gainst  Lycaon's  tyrannies 
Henceforth  protect  you.     But  our  conquest  yet 
Is  all  uncertain :  second  us,  dear  subjects, 
To  assure  our  conquests.     First,  we  must  provide 
Our  safety,  ere  attempt  the  helm  to  guide.        [Exeunt. 

Alarum.     Enter  CALISTO. 

Cal.  What  mean  these  horrid  and  these  shrill  alarms, 
That  fright  the  peaceful  court  with  hostile  cries  ? 
Fear  and  amazement  hurry  through  each  chamber ; 
Th1  affrighted  ladies  light  the  darkest  rooms 
With  their  bright  beauties.     Whence,  oh!  whence,  ye 

gods, 

Are  all  yon  groans,  cries,  and  inhuman  sounds 
Of  blood  and  death  ?     Lycaon,  where  is  he  ? 
Why,  in  this  dire  and  sad  astonishment, 
Appears  not  he  to  comfort  my  sad  fears, 
And  cheer  me  in  this  dull  distemperature  ? 

Enter,  in  a  harry,  with  weapons  drawn,  JUPITER  and  his 

soldiers. 

Jup.  The  iron-barr'd  doors,  and  the  suspected  vaults, 
The  barricadoed  gates,  and  every  room 
That  boasted  of  his  strength,  is  forc'd  to  obey 
To  our  free  entrance :  nothing  can  withstand 
Our  opposite  fury.    Come,  let's  ransack  farther. — 
But  stay !  what  strange  dejected  beauty's  this, 
That  on  the  sudden  hath  surpris'd  my  heart, 
And  made  me  sick  with  passion  ? 

Cal.  Hence,  away  ! 
When  we  command,  who  dares  presume  to  stay  ? 

Jup.  Bright  lady 

Cal.  You  affright  me  with  your  steel. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  25 

Jup.  These  weapons,  lady,  come  to  grace  your  beauty, 
And  these  my  arms  shall  be  your  sanctuary 
From  all  offensive  danger.     Cheer  your  sorrow, 
Let  your  bright  beauty  shoot  out  of  this  cloud 
To  search  my  heart,  as  it  hath  daz'd  my  eyes. 
Are  you  a  queen  enthron'd  above  the  elements, 
Made  of  divine  composure,  or  of  earth, 
Which  I  can  scarce  believe  ? 

Cal.  I  am  myself. 

Uncivil  stranger,  you  are  much  too  rude, 
Into  my  private  chamber  to  intrude. — 
Go,  call  the  King  my  father. 

Jup.  Are  you,  then, 

Lycaon's  daughter  ?  (wonder  without  end, 
That  from  a  fiend  an  angel  should  descend !) 
Oh,  Love  !  till  now  I  never  felt  thy  dart, 
But  now  her  painted  eye  hath  pierc'd  my  heart. 
Fair,  can  you  love  ? 

Cal.  To  be  alone  I  can. 

Jup.  Women,  fair  queen,  are  nothing  without  men ; 
You  are  but  ciphers,  empty  rooms  to  fill, 
And  till  men's  figures  come,  uncounted  still. 
Shall  I,  sweet  lady,  add  unto  your  grace, 
And  but  for  number's  sake  supply  that  place  ? 

Cal.  You're  one  too  many ;  and  of  all  the  rest, 
That  bear  men's  figure,  we  can  spare  you  best. 
What  are  you,  sir  ? 

Jup.  We  are  Pelasgia's  king, 
And  these  our  subjects. 

Cal.  These  did  of  late  belong 
To  King  Lycaon. — Oh,  injurious  wrong  ! 

Jup.  Oh,  suit  your  pity  with  your  angel-beauty, 
And  live  Pelasgia's  queen. 

Cal.  Give  me  a  funeral  garland,  to  lament, 
That  best  becomes  my  wretched  discontent. 


/      26  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  II. 

J  Jup.  The  sunshine  of  my  smiles  and  jocund  love 

Shall  from  your  brows,  bright  azure  elements, 
Disperse  all  clouds.     Behold,  my  crown  is  yours, 
My  sword,  my  conquest.     I  am  of  myself 
Nothing  without  your  soft  compassionate  love ; 
For  proof,  ask  what  the  heaven,  earth,  air,  or  sea, 
Can  yield  to  men  by  power  or  orison, 
And  it  is  yours. 

Cal.  Sir,  I  shall  prove  your  love. 

Jup.  Pray  use  me,  lady. 

Cal.  You'll  grant  it  me,  my  lord  ? 

Jup.  By  all  my  honours,  and  by  all  the  sweets 
I  hope  for  in  your  love's  fruition, 
Your  will's  your  own. 

Cal.  You'll  not  revoke  your  word  ? 

Jup.  Be't  to  invest  whom  I  did  late  degrade, 
I'll  do't  for  you,  bright  and  divinest  maid. 

Cal.  This  only  ;  freedom  to  your  captive  give, 
That  I  a  nun  and  profess'd  maid  may  live. 

Jup.  More  cruel  than  the  tyrant  that  begat  thee  ! 
Hadst  thou  ask'd  love,  gold,  service,  empery, 
This  sword  had  purchas'd  for  Calisto  all. 
Oh,  most  unkind  !  in  all  this  universe 
There's  but  one  jewel  that  I  value  high, 
And  that,  unkind,  you  will  not  let  me  buy. 
To  live  a  maid,  what  is't  ?  'tis  to  live  nothing ; 
'Tis  like  a  covetous  man  to  hoard  up  treasure, 
Barred  from  your  own  use,  and  from  others'  pleasure. 
Oh,  think,  fair  creature,  that  you  had  a  mother ; 
One  that  bore  you,  that  you  might  bear  another. 
Be  you  as  she  was,  of  an  infant  glad, 
Since  you  from  her  have  all  things  that  she  had. 
Should  all  affect  the  strict  life  you  desire, 
The  world  itself  should  end  when  we  expire. 
Posterity  is  all ;  heaven's  number  fill, 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  27 

Which  by  your  help  may  be  increased  still. 
What  is  it  when  you  lose  your  maidenhead, 
But  make  your  beauty  live,  when  you  are  dead, 
In  your  fair  issue  ? 

Cal.  Tush  !  'tis  all  in  vain. — 
Dian,  I  am  now  a  servant  of  thy  train. 

Jup.  Her  order  is  mere  heresy,  her  sect 
A  schism,  'mongst  maids  not  worthy  your  respect. 
Men  were  got  to  get,  you  born  others  to  bear : 
Wrong  not  the  world  so  much — nay,  sweet,  your  ear — 
This  flower  will  wither,  not  being  cropp'd  in  time. 
Age  is  too  late ;  then,  do  not  lose  your  prime : 
Sport  whilst  you  may,  before  your  youth  be  past ; 
Lose  not  this  mould  that  may  such  fair  ones  cast. 
Leave  to  the  world  your  like  for  face  or  stature, 
That  the  next  age  may  praise  your  gifts  of  nature. 

Calisto,  if  you  still  grow  thus  precise, 

In  your  strict  vow  succeeding  beauty  dies. 

Cal.  I  claim  your  oath.     All  love  with  men  adieu  ; 
Diana's  cloister  I  will  next  pursue.         \Exit  CALISTO. 

Jup.  And  there  all  beauty  shall  be  kept  in  jail, 
Which  with  my  sword,  ay,  with  my  life,  I'd  bail. 

What's  that  Diana? 

2  Lord.  She  is  the  daughter  of  an  ancient  king 

That  swayed  the  Attic  sceptre ;  who,  being  tempted 

By  many  suitors,  first  began  this  vow, 

And  leaving  court,  betook  her  to  the  forests. 

Her  beauteous  trains  are  virgins  of  best  rank, 

Daughters  of  kings  and  princes,  all  devoted 

To  abandon  men  and  choose  virginity. 

All  these,  being  first  to  her  strict  orders  sworn, 

Acknowledge  her  their  queen  and  empress. 
Jup.  By  all  my  hopes  Calisto's  love  to  gain, 

I'd  wish  myself  one  of  Diana's  train. 

1  Lord.  Concerning  your  State  business  ? 


28  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Jup.  Well  remembered. 
Posts  of  these  news  shall  be  to  Epire  sent 
Of  us,  and  of  our  new  establishment. 
Next  for  Calisto;  but  of  that  no  more. — 
We  must  take  firm  possession  of  this  state 
Our  sword  hath  won,  Lycaon  lost  so  late.          \_Exeunt. 

Enter  with  music,  before  DIANA  and  CALISTO,  six  Satyrs ; 
after  them  all  their  Nymphs.,  garlands  on  their  heads, 
and  javelins  in  their  hands,  their  bows  and  quivers.  The 
Satyrs  sing  : 

Hail,  beauteous  Dian,  queen  of  shades, 
That  dwells  beneath  these  shadowy  glades, 
Mistress  of  all  those  beauteous  maids 

That  are  by  her  allowed. 
Virginity  we  all  profess, 
Abjure  the  worldly  vain  excess, 
And  will  to  Dian  yield  no  less, 

Than  we  to  her  have  vowed. 
The  shepherds,  satyrs,  nymphs,  and  fawns, 
For  thee  will  trip  it  o'er  the  lawns. 

Come,  to  the  forest  let  us  go, 
And  trip  it  like  the  barren  doe ; 
The  fawns  and  satyrs  still  do  so, 

And  freely  thus  they  may  do. 
The  fairies  dance  and  satyrs  sing, 
And  on  the  grass  tread  many  a  ring, 
And  to  their  caves  their  ven'son  bring, 

And  we  will  do  as  they  do. 
The  shepherds,  &c. 

Our  food  is  honey  from  the  bees, 
And  mellow  fruits  that  drop  from  trees. 
In  chase  we  climb  the  high  degrees 
Of  every  steepy  mountain. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  29 

And  when  the  weary  day  is  past, 
We  at  the  evening  hie  us  fast, 
And  after  this,  our  field  repast, 

We  drink  the  pleasant  fountain. 
The  shepherds,  &c. 

Diana.  These  sports,  our  fawns,  our  satyrs,  and  our- 
selves, 

Make,  fair  Calisto,  for  your  entertain ; 

Pan,  the  great  God  of  shepherds,  and  the  nymphs 

Of  meads  and  fountains  that  inhabit  here, 

All  give  you  welcome  with  their  rural  sports, 

Glad  to  behold  a  princess  of  your  birth 

A  happy  citizen  of  these  meads  and  groves. 

These  satyrs  are  our  neighbours,  and  live  here, 

With  whom  we  have  confirm'd  a  friendly  league, 

And  dwell  in  peace.     Here  is  no  city-craft, 

Here's  no  court  flattery ;  simpleness,  and  sooth, 

The  harmless  chase,  and  strict  virginity 

Is  all  our  practice.     You  have  read  our  orders, 

And  you  have  sworn  to  keep  them. 

Fair  Calisto, 

Speak,  how  esteem  thou  them  ? 
Cal.  With  reverence. 

Great  queen,  I  am  sequester'd  from  the  world, 

Even  in  my  soul  hate  man's  society, 

And  all  their  lusts,  suggestions:  all  court  pleasures, 

And  city  curiosities  are  vain, 

And  with  my  finer  temper  ill  agree, 

That  now  have  vow'd  sacred  virginity. 

Diana.  We  will  not  of  your  sorrows  make  recital, 

So  lately  suffered  by  the  hand  of  Chance  ; 

We  are  from  the  world,  and  the  blind  goddess,  Fortune, 

We  dare  to  do  her  worst,  as  living  here 

Out  of  her  reach  :  us  she  of  force  must  spare  ; 

They  can  lose  nothing  that  for  nothing  care. 


30  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Cal.  Madam,  devotion  drew  me  to  your  service, 
And  I  am  now  your  handmaid. 

Diana.  Where's  Atlanta? 

Ail.  Madam. 

Diana.  Is  there  no  princess  in  our  train, 
As  yet  unmatch'd,  to  be  her  cabin  fellow, 
And  sleep  by  her? 

Ail.  Madam,  we  all  are  coupled 
And  twinn'd  in  love,  and  hardly  is  there  any 
That  will  be  won  to  change  her  bedfellow. 

Diana.  You  must  be  single  till  the  next  arrive : 
She  that  is  next  admitted  of  our  train, 
Must  be  her  bed-companion ;  so  'tis  'lotted. 
Come,  fawns,  and  nymphs,  and  satyrs,  gird  us  round, 
Whilst  we  ascend  our  state,  and  here  proclaim 
A  general  hunting  in  Diana's  name. 

Enter  JUPITER,  like  a  nymph,  or  a  virago. 

Jup.  There  I  strode  too  wide;  that  step  was  too 
large  for  one  that  professeth  the  straight  order.  What 
a  pitiful  coil  shall  I  have  to  counterfeit  this  woman ;  to 
lisp,  forsooth,  to  simper,  and  set  my  face  like  a  sweet 
gentlewoman's,  made  out  of  gingerbread.  Shall  I  ven- 
ture or  no  ?  My  face  I  fear  not,  for  my  beard,  being  in 
the  nonage,  durst  never  yet  look  a  barber  in  the  face ; 
and  for  my  complexion,  I  have  known  as  brown  lasses 
as  myself  have  gone  for  current.  And  for  my  stature,  I 
am  not  yet  of  that  giant  size,  but  I  may  pass  for  a  bona 
roba,  a  rounceval,  a  virago,  or  a  good  manly  lass.  If 
they  should  put  me  to  spin  or  to  sew,  or  any  such 
gentlewomanlike  exercise,  how  should  I  excuse  my 
bringing  up  ?  Tush !  the  hazard  is  nothing  compared 
with  the  value  of  the  gain.  Could  I  manage  this  busi- 
ness with  art,  I  should  come  to  a  hundred  pretty  sights 
in  a  year ;  as  in  the  summer,  when  we  come  to  flea  our 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  31 

smocks,  &c.     I  hope  Diana  doth  not  use  to  search  her 
maids  before  she  entertains  them.    But,  howsoever, 
Be  my  loss  certain,  and  my  profit  none, 
'Tis  for  Calisto's  love,  and  I  will  on. 

Diana.  We'll  chase  the  stag,  and  with  our  bugles 

shrill 
The  neighbouring  forests  with  loud  echoes  fill. 

Jup.  Is  this  a  heaven  terrestrial,  that  contains 
So  many  earthly  angels  ?     Oh,  amazement ! 
Diana,  with  these  beauties  circled  round, 
Paled  in  with  these  bright  faces,  bears  more  state 
Than  Gods  have  lent  them  by  the  power  of  fate. 
I  am  descried. 

Diana.  Soft!  what  intruder's  that  ? 
Command  her  hither. 

Jup.  Hail,  divinest  queen. 
I  come  to  do  thee  service. 

Diana.  A  manly  lass,  a  stout  virago. 
Were  all  our  train  proportion'd  to  thy  size, 
We  need  not  fear  men's  subtle  treacheries. 
Thy  birth  and  fortunes  ? 

Jup.  Madam,  I  derive 
My  birth  from  noble  and  high  parentage. 
Report  of  your  rare  beauty,  with  my  love, 
And  zeal  I  still  bear  to  a  virgin's  life, 
Have  drawn  me  to  your  service. 

Diana.  Welcome,  lady.  Her  largeness  pleaseth  me : 
if  she  have  courage  proportioned  with  her  limbs,  she 
shall  be  champion  to  all  our  wronged  ladies.  You, 
Atlanta,  present  her  oath. 

\Her  oath  is  given  on  DIANA'S  bow. 

Ail.  Madam,  you  must  be  true 
To  bright  Diana  and  her  virgin  crew. 

Jup.  To  bright  Diana  and  her  train  I'll  stand.   [Aside. 

Diana.  What  can  you  do? 


32  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Jup.  More  than  the  best  here  can. 

Ail.  You  shall  vow  chastity. 

Jup.  That's  more  than  I  can  promise.  —  Well,  proceed. 

All.  You  never  shall  with  hated  man  atone, 
But  lie  with  woman,  or  else  lodge  alone. 

Jup.  Make  my  oath  strong,  my  protestation  deep, 
For  this  I  vow  by  all  the  Gods  to  keep. 

Atl.  With  ladies  only  you  shall  sport  and  play, 
And  in  their  fellowship  spend  night  and  day. 

Jup.  I  shall. 

Atl.  Consort  with  them  at  board  and  bed, 
And  swear  no  man  shall  have  your  maidenhead. 

Jup.  By  all  the  powers,  both  early  and  divine, 
If  e'er  I  lose't,  a  woman  shall  have  mine  ! 

Diana.  Now  you're  ours  you're  welcome;  kiss  our 

hand. 

You  promise  well  ;  we  like  you,  and  will  grace  you  : 
And  if  with  our  election  yours  agree, 
Calisto,  here,  your  bedfellow  shall  be. 

Jup.  You  Gods,  you  will  eternize  me  your  choice. 
Madam,  I  seal  both  with  my  soul  and  voice. 

Diana.  Then,  hand  each  other,  and  acquaint  your- 

selves. 

And  now  let  us  proceed  in  the  pursuit 
Of  our  determined  pastimes,  dedicate 
To  the  entertainment  of  these  beauteous  maids. 
Satyrs  and  fawns,  ring  out  your  pleasing  quire  ; 
This  done,  our  bugles  shall  to  heaven  aspire.     [Exeunt. 


Horns  winded;  a  great  noise  of  hunting  \    Enter 

all  her  nymphs  in  the  chase  ;  JUPITEK  pulling  CALISTO 
back. 

Diana.  Follow  !    pursue  !    the   stag  hath  took    the 

mountain. 
Come,  let  us  climb  the  steep  cliffs  after  him. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  33 

Let  through  the  air  your  nimble  javelins  sing, 
And  our  free  spoils  home  with  the  evening  bring. 
All.  Follow,  follow,  follow ! 

Wind  horns.     Enter  the  Satyrs  as  in  the  chase. 

Satyr.  The  nimble  ladies  have  outstripp'd  us  quite : 
Unless  we  speed  we  shall  not  see  him  fall. 
We  are  too  slow  in  pursuit  of  our  game ; 
Let's  after,  though.     Since  they  outstrip  our  eyes, 
Run  by  the  notes  that  from  their  bugles  rise. 

Wind  horns.     Enter  JUPITER  and  CALISTO. 

Col.  Haste,  gentle  lady,  we  shall  lose  our  train, 
And  miss  Diana's  pastime  in  the  chase ; 
Hie,  then,  to  stain  our  javelins'  gilded  points 
In  blood  of  yon  swift  stag,  so  hot  pursued. 
Will  you  keep  pace  with  me  ? 

Jup.  I  am  tired  already ; 

Nor  have  I  yet  been  to  these  pastimes  breathed. 
Sweet,  shall  we  here  repose  ourselves  a  little  ? 

Cal.  And  lose  the  honour  to  be  first. at  fall? 

Jup.  Fear  not,  you  shall  come  time  enough  to  fall. — 
Either  you  must  be  so  unkind  to  me, 
As  leave  me  to  these  deserts  solitary, 
Or  stay  till  I  have  rest,  for  I  am  breathless, 
And  cannot  hold  it  out :  behold  a  place 
Remote,  an  arbour  seated  naturally, 
Trimm'd  by  the  hand  of  nature  for  a  bower, 
Screen'd  by  the  shadowy  leaves  from  the  sun's  eye. 
Sweet,  will  you  sit,  or  on  the  verdure  lie  ? 

Cal.  Rather  than  leave  you,  I  will  lose  the  sport. 

Jup.  I'll  find  you  pastime,  fear  not.     Oh,  my  angel, 
Whither  wilt  thou  transport  me  ?  grant  me  measure 
Of  joy  before  I  surfeit  on  this  pleasure. 

D 


34  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Cal.  Come,  ehall's  lie  down  a  little  ? 

Jtip.  Sooth,  I  will. — 
I  thirst  in  seas,  and  cannot  quaff  my  fill ; 
Behold  before  me  a  rich  table  spread, 
And  yet  poor  I  am  forc'd  to  starve  for  bread : 
We  be  alone,  the  ladies  far  in  chase, 
And  may  I  die  an  eunuch  by  my  vow, 
If,  bright  Calisto,  you  escape  me  now. — 
Sweet  bedfellow,  your  hand. — What  have  I  felt, 
Unless  blanch'd  snow,  of  substance  not  to  melt  ? 

Cal.  You  gripe  too  hard. 

Jup.  Good  sooth,  I  shall  not  rest 
Until  my  head  be  pillowed  on  thy  breast. 

Cal.  Lean  on  me,  then. 

Jup.  So  shall  I  wrong  mine  eyes, 
To  leave  your  face  to  look  upon  the  skies. 
Oh,  how  I  love  thee !  come,  let's  kiss  and  play. 

Cal  How? 

Jup.  So  a  woman  with  a  woman  may. 

Cal.  I  do  not  like  this  kissing. 

Jup.  Sweet,  sit  still. 
Lend  me  thy  lips,  that  I  may  taste  my  fill. 

Cal.  You  kiss  too  wantonly. 

Jup.  Thy  bosom  lend, 
And  by  thy  soft  paps  let  my  hand  descend. 

Cal.  Nay,  fie  !  what  mean  you? 

Jup.  Prithee,  let  me  toy. 
I  would  the  Gods  would  shape  thee  to  a  boy, 
Or  me  into  a  man. 

Cal.  A  man !     How  then  ? 

Jup.  Nay,  sweet,  lie  still,  for  we  are  far  from  men : 
Lie  down  again.     Your  foot  I  oft  have  praised, 
Ay,  and  your  leg :  nay,  let  your  skirt  be  raised, 
I'll  measure,  for  the  wager  of  a  fall, 
Who  hath  the  greatest  great,  or  smallest  small. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  35 

Cal.  You  are  too  wanton,  and  your  hand  too  free. 

Jup.  You  need  not  blush  to  let  a  woman  see. 

Cal.  My  bareness  I  have  hid  from  sight  of  skies, 
Therefore,  may  bar  it  any  lady's  eyes. 

Jup.  Methinks  you   should  be  fat;    pray,  let   me 
feel. 

Cal.  Oh,  God  !  you  tickle  me. 

Jup.  Lend  me  your  hand, 
And  freely  taste  me :  note  how  I  will  stand  ; 
I  am  not  ticklish. 

Cal.  Lord,  how  well  you  woo ! 

Jup.  We  maids  may  wish  much,  but  can  nothing  do. 

Cal.  I  am  weary  of  this  toying. 

Jup.  Oh !  but  I 

In  this  elysium  could  both  live  and  die. — 
I  can  forbear  no  longer :  though  my  rape 
Be  punish'd  with  my  head,  she  shall  not  'scape. — 
Say,  sweet,  were  I  a  man? 

Cal.  Thus  would  I  rise, 

And  fill  the  dales  and  mountains  with  my  cries. 
A  man  ?     Oh,  heaven  !  to  gain  elysium's  bliss, 
I'd  not  be  said  that  I  a  man  should  kiss. 
Come,  let's  go  wound  the  stag. 

Jup.  Stay,  ere  you  go ; 

Here  stands  one  ready  that  must  strike  a  doe, 
And  thou  art  she.     I  am  Pelasgia's  king, 
That  thus  have  singled  thee :  mine  thou  shalt  be. 

Cal.  Gods,  angels,  men,  help  all  a  maid  to  free ! 

Jup.  Maugre  them  all,  th'  art  mine. 

Cal.  To  do  me  right, 
Help,  fingers,  feet,  nails,  teeth,  and  all  to  fight. 

Jup.  Not  they,  nor  all  Diana's  angel  train, 
Were  they  in  sight,  this  prize  away  should  gain. 

[ffe  carries  her  away  in  his  arms.     [JKrzV.] 

D  2 


36  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

ACTUS  III.     SCJENA  I. 
Enter  HOMER. 

Homer.  Young   Jupiter   doth   force   this   beauteous 

maid, 

And  after  would  have  made  her  his  bright  queen  ; 
But,  discontent,  she  in  the  forest  stayed, 
Loth  of  Diana's  virgins  to  be  seen. 

Oft  did  he  write,  oft  send ;  but  all  in  vain, 

She  never  will  return  to  court  again. 
Eight  moons   are  fill'd  and  waned,   when   she  grows 

great, 

And  young  Jove's  issue  in  her  womb  doth  spring. 
This  day  Diana  doth  her  nymphs  entreat 
Unto  a  solemn  bathing,  where  they  bring 

Deflower'd  Calisto :  note  how  she  would  hide 

That  which  time  found,  and  great  Diana  spied. 

A  dumb  show.  Enter  DIANA  and  all  her  nymphs,  to 
bathe  them ;  she  makes  them  survey  the  place :  they  un- 
lace themselves,  and  unloose  their  buskins;  only  CALISTO 
refuseth  to  make  her  ready.  DIANA  sends  ATLANTA 
to  her,  who,  perforce  unlacing  her,  finds  her  great  belly, 
and  shows  it  to  DIANA,  who  turns  her  out  of  her  society, 
and  leaves  her.  CALISTO  likewise  in  great  sorrow 
forsakes  the  place. 

Her  crime  thus  found,  she's  banished  from  their  crew, 
And  in  a  cave  she  childs  a  valiant  son, 
Called  Arenas  ;  who  doth  noble  deeds  pursue, 
And  by  Jove's  gift  Pelasgia's  seat  hath  won, 
Which  after  by  his  worth  and  glorious  fame, 
He  hath  trans-styl'd  Arcadia  by  his  name. 
But  we  return  to  Titan,  who,  by  spies, 
Hath  learn'd  that  Saturn  hath  kept  sons  alive. 


SCENE  I. 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  37 


He  now  assembles  all  his  strange  allies, 
And  for  the  crown  of  Crete  intends  to  strive. 
Of  their  success  and  fortunes  we  proceed, 
Where  Titan's  sons  by  youthful  Jove  must  bleed. 

[Eaeti.] 

Enter  TITAN,  LYCAON,  ENCELADUS,  ^EGEON  in  arms, 
drum,  colours,  and  attendants. 

Titan.  Now  we  are  strong :  our  giant  issue  grown, 
Our  sons  in  several  kingdoms  we  have  planted, 
From  whence  they  have  deriv'd  us  brave  supplies 
From  Sicily,  and  from  th'  ^Egean  Sea, 
That  of  our  son  -ZEgeon  bears  the  name. 
We  have  assembled  infinites  of  men 
To  avenge  us  on  proud  Saturn's  perjury. 

Lye.  What  I  have  said  to  Titan  I'll  make  good. 
'Tis  rumour'd  Melliseus'  foster-child, 
He  that  expuls'd  me  from  Pelasgia's  crown, 
And  in  my  high  tribunal  sits  enthroned, 
Is  Saturn's  son,  and  styled  Jupiter, 
Besides  my  daughter  by  his  lust  deflowered; 
On  us,  the  poor  distressed  Tytanois, 
He  hath  committed  many  outrages. 

jEg.  All  which  we'll  punish  on  King  Saturn's  head. 
I  that  have  made  th'  ^Egean  confines  shake, 
And  with  my  powerful  voice  affrighted  heaven, 
From  whose  enraged  eyes  the  darken'd  skies 
Have  borrowed  lustre  and  Promethean  fire, 
Will  fright  from  Crete  the  proud  Saturnian  troop, 
And  thousand  hack'd  and  mangled  soldiers  bring 
To  entomb  the  glories  of  the  Cretan  King. 

Enc.  That  must  be  left  to  great  Enceladus, 
The  pride  and  glory  of  the  Titan's  host. 
I  that  have  curl'd  the  billows  with  a  frown, 
And  with  a  smile  have  made  the  ocean  calm ; 
Spurn'd  down  huge  mountains  with  my  armed  foot, 


38  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

And  with  my  shoulders  lift  the  valleys  high, 
"Will,  in  the  wrinkles  of  my  stormy  brow, 
Bury  the  glories  of  the  Cretan  King, 
And  on  his  slaughter'd  bulk  brain  all  his  sons. 
.  And  what  shall  I  do,  then  ? 


Enc.  Do  thou  stand  still, 
Whilst  I  the  foes  of  Titan  pash  and  kill. 
Am  I  not  the  eldest  from  great  Titan's  loina, 
The  Saturnists'  hereditary  scourge  ? 
Leave  all  these  deeds  of  horror  to  my  hand  ; 
I,  like  a  trophy,  o'er  their  spoils  will  stand. 

Lye.  Why  breathe  we,  then  ? 

Enc.  Come,  arm  your  sinewy  limbs  ; 
With  rage  and  fury  fright  pale  pity  hence, 
And  drown  him  in  the  sweat  your  bodies  still. 
With  hostile  industry  toss  flaming  brands 
About  your  fleecy  locks,  to  threat  their  cities 
With  death  and  desolation  ;  let  your  steel, 
Glist'ring  against  the  sun,  daze  their  bright  eyes, 
That  with  the  dread  of  our  astonishment 
They  may  be  sunk  in  Lethe,  and  their  grave 
May  be  the  dark  vault  call'd  oblivion's  cave. 

Titan.  Are  our  ambassadors  to  Saturn  gone, 
To  let  him  know  whence  this  our  war  proceeds  ? 

Lye.  Your  message  hath  by  this  startled  th'  usurper. 

Enc.  Set  on  them,  waste  their  confines  as  we  march, 
And  let  them  taste  the  rage  of  sword  and  fire. 
Th'  alarum's  given,  and  hath  by  this  arrived 
Even  at  the  walls  of  Crete,  the  citadel 
Where  the  cathedrall'd  Saturn  is  enthroned. 

Titan.  Warlike  JEgeon  and  Enceladus, 
Noble  Lycaon,  lend  us  your  assistance 
To  forage  as  we  march  :  plant  desolation 
Through  all  this  fertile  soil.     Be  this  your  cry  : 
Revenge  on  Saturn  for  his  perjury  !  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  39 

Enter  SATURN,  with  hair  and  beard  overgrown ;  SIBYLLA, 
JUNO  :  his  lords,  drum,  colours,  and  soldiers. 

Sat.  None  speak :  let  no  harsh  voice  presume  to  jar 
In  our  distressed  ear.     I  am  all  sadness, 
All  horror  and  affrightment,  since  the  slaughter 
And  tragic  murder  of  my  first  born  Ops, 
Continued  in  the  unnatural  massacre 
Of  three  young  princes.     Not  a  day  hath  pass'd  me 
Without  distaste ;  no  night  but  double  darkened 
With  terror  and  confused  melancholy : 
No  hour  but  hath  had  care  and  discontent 
Proportion'd  to  his  minutes  ;  not  an  instant 
Without  remorse  and  anguish.     Oh,  you  crowns  ! 
Why  are  ye  made  and  metalled  out  of  cares  ? 
I  am  overgrown  with  sorrows,  circumvolved 
With  multiplicity  of  distemperatures, 
And  Saturn  is  a  king  of  nothing  else 
But  woes,  vexations,  sorrows,  and  laments. 
To  add  to  these  the  threat'nings  of  red  war ; 
As  if  the  murder  of  my  princely  babes 
Were  not  enough  to  plague  an  usurpation, 
But  they  must  add  the  rage  of  sword  and  fire, 
To  affright  my  people.     These  are  miseries 
Able  to  be  compris'd  in  no  dimension. 

Juno.  My  father  shall  not  macerate  himself: 
I'll  dare  to  interrupt  his  passions, 
Although  I  buy  it  dearly  with  his  hate. — 
My  lord,  you  are  a  king  of  a  great  people, 
Your  power  sufficient  to  repulse  a  foe 
Greater  than  Titan.     Though  my  brothers'  births 
Be  crown'd  in  blood,  yet  I  am  still  reserved 
To  be  the  hopeful  comfort  of  your  age. 

Sat.  My  dearest  Juno,  beautiful  remainder 
Of  Saturn's  royal  issue,  but  for  thee 


40  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

I  had  ere  this,  with" these  my  fingers,  torn 
A  grave  out  of  the  rocks,  to  have  entombed 
The  wretched  carcase  of  a  caitiff  King  : 
And  I  will  live,  be  't  but  to  make  thee  queen 
Of  all  the  triumphs  and  the  spoils  I  win. — 
Speak  :  what's  the  project  of  their  invasion  ? 

1  Lord.  That  the  King  of  Crete 
Hath  not,  according  to  his  vows  and  oaths, 
Slain  his  male  issue. 

Sat.  Have  I  not  their  bloods 
Already  quaffd  to  angry  Nemesis  ? 
Have  not  these  ruthless  and  remorseless  eyes, 
Unfatherlike,  beheld  their  panting  hearts 
Swimming  in  bowls  of  blood  ?     Am  I  not  sonless  ? 
Nay,  childless  too,  save  Juno  whom  I  love? 
And  dare  they  then  ?     Come  ;  our  continued  sorrow 
Shall  into  scarlet  indignation  turn, 
And  my  sons'  blood  shall  crown  their  guilty  heads 
With  purple  vengeance. — Valiant  lords,  set  on, 
And  meet  them  to  their  last  destruction. 

1  Lord.  March  !  forward ! 

Sat.  Stay  !     Because  we'll  ground  our  wars 
On  justice,  fair  Sibylla  on  thy  life 
I  charge  thee  tell  me,  and  dissemble  not, 
By  all  the  hopes  in  Saturn  thou  hast  stored, 
Our  nuptial  pleasures  and  affairs  of  love, 
As  thou  esteem'st  our  grace,  or  vengeance  fearest, 
Resolve  me  truly — hast  thou  sons  alive  ? 

[SIBYLLA  kneels. 

These  tears,  and  that  dejection  on  thy  knee, 
Accompanied  with  dumbness,  argue  guilt. 
Arise  and  speak. 

Sib.  Let  Saturn  know  I  am  a  woman,  then ; 
And  more,  I  am  a  mother.     Would  you  have  me 
A  monster,  to  exceed  in  cruelty 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  41 

The  savagest  of  savages  ?     Bears,  tigers,  wolves, 
All  feed  their  young :  would  Saturn  have  his  queen 
More  fierce  than  these  ?     Think  you  Sibylla  dare 
Murder  her  young,  whom  cruel  beasts  would  spare  ? 
Let  me  be  held  a  mother,  not  a  murderess ; 
For,  Saturn,  thou  hast  living  three  brave  sons. 
But  where  ?  rather  than  to  reveal  to  thee, 
That  thou  may'st  send  their  guiltless  blood  to  spill, 
Here  seize  my  life,  for  them  thou  shalt  not  kill. 

Sat.  Amazement !  war,  the  threatening  oracle, 
All  muster  strange  perplexions  'bout  my  brain, 
And  rob  me  of  the  true  ability 
Of  my  direct  conceivements.     Doubt  and  war, 
Titan's  invasion,  and  my  jealousy 
Make  me  unfit  for  answer. 

1  Lord.  Royal  Saturn, 

'Twas  pity  in  the  queen  so  to  preserve  them. 
Your  strictness  slew  them :  they  are  dead  in  you, 
And  in  the  pity  of  your  queen  survive. 

Sat.  Divine  assistance  plunge  me  from  these  troubles ! 
Mortality  here  fails  me.     I  am  wrapt 
In  millions  of  confusions. 

Enter  a  second  Lord. 

2  Lord.  Arm,  arm,  great  Saturn  ! 
Thy  cities  burn ;  a  general  massacre 
Threatens  thy  people  !     The  big  Titanois 
Plough  up  thy  land  with  their  invasive  steel. 
A  huge  unnumber'd  army  is  at  hand 

To  set  upon  thy  camp. 

Sat.  All  my  disturbances 
Convert  to  rage,  and  make  my  spleen  as  high 
As  is  their  topless  fury,  to  encounter 
With  equal  force  and  vengeance. — Go,  Sibylla, 
Convey  my  beauteous  Juno  to  the  place 


42  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Of  our  best  strength,  whilst  we  contend  in  arms 
For  this  rich  Cretan  wreath.     The  battle  done, 
And  they  confin'd,  we'll  treat  of  these  affairs. 
Perhaps  our  love  may  with  this  breach  dispense ; 
But  first  to  arms,  to  beat  th'  intruders  hence.    [Exeunt. 

Alarum.  Enter  TITAN,  LYCAON,  ENCELADUS,  JEcEON. 

Titan.  Saturn  gives  back,  and  'gins  to  leave  the  field. 

Lye.  Pursue  him  then  unto  that  place  of  strength, 
Which  the  proud  Cretans  hold  impregnable. 

Enc.  This  gigantomachia  be  eternized 
For  our  affright  and  terror.     If  they  fly, 
Toss  rocks  and  tops  of  mountains  after  them 
To  stumble  them,  or  else  entomb  them  quick. 

JEg.  They  have  already  got  into  the  town, 
And  barricadoed  'gainst  us  their  iron  gates. 
What  means,  then,  shall  we  find  to  startle  them  ? 

Enc.  What  but  to  spurn  down  their  offensive  mures, 
To  shake  in  two  their  adamantine  gates  ? 
Their  marble  columns  by  the  groundsils  tear, 
And  kick  their  ruin'd  walls  as  high  as  heaven. 

Titan.  Pursue  them  to  their  gates,  and  'bout  the  city 
Plant  a  strong  siege. — Now,  Saturn,  all  my  suffrances 
Shall  on  thy  head  fall  heavy.     We'll  not  spare 
Old  man  or  babe :  the  Titans  all  things  dare.    \Exeunt. 

Alarum.     Enter  SATURN,  SIBYLLA,  JUNO,  with  Lords 
of  the  Court. 

Sat.  The  heavens  have,  for  our  barbarous  cruelty, 
Done  in  the  murder  of  our  first  born  Ops, 
Pour'd  on  our  head  this  vengeance.     Where,  oh,  where 
Shall  we  find  rescue  ? 

Sib.  Patience,  royal  Saturn. 

Sat.  Bid  wolves  be  mild,  and  tigers  pitiful ; 
Command  the  Lybian  lions  abstinence  ; 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  43 

Teach  me  to  mollify  the  Corsic  rock, 
Or  make  the  Mount  Chimera  passable. 
What  monarch,  wrapp'd  in  my  confusions, 
Can  tell  what  patience  means  ? 

Juno.  Oh,  royal  father  ! 

Sat.  Oh !  either  teach  me  rescue  from  these  troubles, 
Or  bid  me  everlastingly,  ay,  ever 
Sink  in  despair  and  horror. 

Sib.  Oh,  my  lord  ! 

You  have  from  your  own  loins  issue  reserved 
That  may  redeem  all  these  calamities. 

/Sat.  Issue  from  us  ? 

Sib.  From  Saturn  and  Sibylla. 
That  royal  prince,  King  of  Pelasgia, 
And  famous  Melliseus'  foster-child, 
Whom  all  the  world  styles  by  the  noble  name 
Of  Jupiter,  he  is  King  Saturn's  son. 

Sat.  Thou  hast,  Sibylla,  kept  that  son  alive, 
That  only  can  redeem  me  from  this  thraldom. 
Oh !  how  shall  we  acquaint  young  Jupiter 
With  this  his  father's  hard  success  in  arms  ? 

Sib.  My  care  did  ever  these  events  foresee, 
And  I  have  sent  to  your  surviving  son 
To  come  unto  your  rescue.     Then,  great  Saturn, 
In  your  wife's  pity  seem  to  applaud  the  heavens, 
That  make  me  their  relentful  minister 
In  the  repairing  of  your  downcast  state. 

Sat.  If  royal  Jupiter  be  Saturn's  son, 
We  shall  be  either  rescued  or  revenged. 
And  now  I  shall  not  dread  those  Titanois 
That  threaten  fire  and  steel. 

Sib.  Trust  your  Sibylla. 

Sat,  Thou  art  my  anchor,  and  the  only  column 
That  supports  Saturn's  glory. — Oh,  my  Jupiter ! 
On  thee  the  basis  of  my  hopes  I  erect, 


44  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

And  in  thy  life  King  Saturn's  fame  survives. — 
Are  messengers  despatch'd  to  signify 
My  son  of  our  distress  ? 

Sib.  As  far  as  Epire, 
Where,  as  we  understand,  Jove  now  remains. 

Sat.  Then  Titan  and  the  proud  Enceladus, 
Hyperion,  and  .ZEgeon,  with  the  rest 
Of  all  the  earth-bred  race,  we  weigh  you  not. 
Threaten  your  worst :  let  all  your  eyes  spark  fire, 
Your  flaming  nostrils  like  Avernus  smoke, 
Your  tongues  speak  thunder,  and  your  armed  hands 
Fling  trisulc  lightning.     Be  you  Gods  above, 
Or  come  you  with  infernal  hatred  armed, 
We  dread  you  not :  we  have  a  son  survives 
Shall  calm  your  tempests. — Beauteous  Juno,  comfort ; 
And  cheer  Sibylla :  if  he  undertake 
Our  rescue,  we  from  danger  are  secure. 
We  in  his  valour  all  our  lives  assure.  [Exeunt. 

A  flourish.      Enter  JUPITER  and  MELLISEUS,   with 
attendants. 

Mel.  Fair  prince,  for  less  by  your  deserts  and  honour 
You  cannot  be,  your  fortunes  and  your  birth 
Are  both  unknown  to  me.     My  two  fair  daughters 
As  a  swath'd  infant  brought  you  to  my  court, 
But  whence,  or  of  what  parents  you  proceed, 
I  am  merely  ignorant. 

Jup.  Then,  am  I  nothing ; 
And  till  I  know  whence  my  descent  hath  been, 
Or  from  what  house  deriv'd,  I  am  but  air, 
And  no  essential  substance  of  a  man. 

Enter  CALISTO,  pursued  by  her  young  son  ARCH  AS. 

Cal.  Help!  help!  for  Heaven's  sake,  help!  I  am  pursued, 
And  by  my  son,  that  seems  to  threat  my  life. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  45 

Jup.  Stay  that  bold  lad. 

Cal.  What's  he?  false  Jupiter ? 

Jup.  Calisto,  or  I  much  deceive  myself. 

Cal.  Oh,  thou  most  false,  most  treacherous,  and  unkind! 
Behold  Calisto  by  her  son  pursued ; 
Indeed,  thy  son.     This  little  savage  youth 
Hath  liv'd  'mongst  tigers,  lions,  wolves,  and  bears, 
And  since  his  birth  partakes  their  cruelty  ; 
Archas  his  name.     Since  I  Diana  left, 
And  from  her  chaste  train  was  divorc'd,  this  youth 
1  childed  in  a  cave  remote  and  silent : 
His  nurture  was  amongst  the  savages. 
This  day  I  by  misfortune  mov'd  his  spleen, 
And  he  pursued  me  with  revenge  and  fury, 
And  had  I  not  forsook  the  shades  and  forests, 
And  fled  for  rescue  to  these  walled  towns, 
He  had  slain  me  in  his  fury.     Save  me,  then : 
Let  not  the  son  the  mother  sacrifice, 
Before  the  father's  eye. 

Jup.  Archas,  my  son, 
My  yonng  son  Archas,  Jupiter's  first-born, 
Oh  !  let  me  hug  thee,  and  a  thousand  times 
Embrace  thee  in  mine  arms.     Lycaon's  grandchild, 
Calisto's  son. — Oh  !  will  you,  beauteous  lady, 
Forsake  the  forests  and  yet  live  with  us  ? 

Cal.  No,  thou  false  man.     For  thy  perjurious  lusts 
I  have  abandon'd  human  subtleties. 
There,  take  thy  son,  and  use  him  like  a  prince, 
Being  son  unto  a  princess.     Teach  him  arts 
And  honour'd  arms :  for  me,  I  have  abjured 
All  peopled  cities,  and  betook  myself 
To  solitary  deserts.     Jove,  adieu; 
Thou  proving  false,  no  mortal  can  be  true.  \Exit. 

Arc.  Since  she  will  needs  be  gone,  be  pleased,  then, 
Wearied  with  beasts,  I  long  to  live  'mongst  men. 
..V 


46  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Jup.  Yet  stay,  Calisto  :  why  wilt  thou  outrun 
Thy  Jupiter? — She  gone,  welcome,  my  son ; 
My  dear  son  Archas,  whom,  if  fortune  smile, 
I  will  create  lord  of  a  greater  style. 

Enter  the  Clown  ^  with  letters. 

Clown.  Save  you,  sir :  is  your  name  King  Melliseus? 

Mel.  We  are  Melliseus,  and  the  Epire  King. 

Clown.  Then,  this  letter  is  for  you.  But  is  there  not 
one  here  in  your  court,  called  (let  me  see) — have  you 
never  a  gibbet-maker  ? 

Jup.  Sirrah,  here's  one  called  Jupiter. 

Clown.  Ay,  Jupiter ;  that's  he  that  I  would  speak 
with.  Here's  another  letter  to  you,  but  ere  you  read 
it,  pray  let  me  ask  you  one  question. 

Jup.     What's  that? 

Clown.  Whether  you  be  a  wise  child,  or  no  ? 

Jup.  Your  reason  ? 

Clown.  Because  I  would  know  whether  you  know 
your  own  father :  but  if  you  do  not,  hoping  you  are  in 
good  health,  as  your  father  scarce  was  at  the  making 
hereof,  these  are  to  certify  you. 

Jup.  News  of  a  father !  never  could  such  tidings 
Have  glutted  me  with  gladness.  [He  reads. 

Clown.  For  mine  own  part,  though  I  know  not  what 
belongs  to  the  getting  of  children,  yet  I  know  how  to 
father  a  child ;  and  because  I  would  be  loth  to  have  this 
parish  troubled  with  you,  I  bring  you  news  where  you 
were  born.  I  was  the  man  that  laid  you  at  this  man's 
door,  and  if  you  will  not  go  home  quietly,  you  shall  be 
sent  from  constable  to  constable,  till  you  come  to  the 
place  where  you  were  begot.  Read  further,  and  tell  me 
more. 

Mel.  Is  Jupiter,  then,  mighty  Saturn's  son? 

Jup.  I  am  the  son  of  Saturn,  King  of  Crete. — 


SCEXE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  47 

My  father  battled  by  the  Titanois  ? 
May  all  my  toward  hopes  die  in  my  birth, 
Nor  ever  let  me  worthily  inherit 
The  name  of  royalty,  if  by  my  valour 
I  prove  me  not  descended  royally. 

Clown.  I  was  the  man  that  took  pains  with  you.  'Twas 
I  that  brought  you  in  the  hand-basket. 

Jup.  Should  I  have  wish'd  a  father  in  the  world, 
It  had  been  Saturn ;  or  a  royal  mother, 
It  had  been  fair  Sibylla,  Queen  of  Crete. — 
Great  Epire's  King,  peruse  these  tragic  lines, 
And  in  thy  wonted  bounty  grant  supplies, 
To  free  my  noble  father. 

Mel.  Jupiter,  as  I  am  Melliseus,  Epire's  King, 
Thou  shalt  have  free  assistance. 

Jup.  Come,  then ;  arm  ! 
Assemble  all  the  powers  that  we  can  levy. — 
Archas,  we  make  thee  of  Pelasgia  King, 
As  King  Lycaon's  grandchild,  and  the  son 
Of  fair  Calisto.     Let  that  clime  henceforth 
Be  called  Arcadia,  and  usurp  thy  name. 
Go,  then,  and  press  th'  Arcadians  to  the  rescue 
Of  royal  Saturn.     This  great  king  and  I 
Will  lead  the  Epirians.     Fail  me  not  to  meet, 
To  redeem  Saturn,  and  to  rescue  Crete. 

[Exeunt.     Manet  Clown. 

Clown.  I  have  no  mind  to  this  buffeting:  I'll  walk 
after  fair  and  softly,  in  hope  that  all  the  buffeting  may 
be  done  before  I  come.  Whether  I  had  better  go  home 
by  land  or  by  sea  ?  If  I  go  by  land  and  miscarry,  then 
I  go  the  way  of  all  flesh :  if  I  go  by  sea  and  miscarry, 
then  I  go  the  way  of  all  fish.  I  am  not  yet  resolved.  But, 
howsoever,  I  have  done  my  message  so  cleanly,  that  they 
cannot  say  the  messenger  is  bereaved  of  anything  that 
belongs  to  his  message.  \_Exit.~] 


48  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Alarum.     Enter  TITAN,  LYCAON,  ENCELADUS;  with 
SATURN,  JUNO,  and  SIBYLLA,  prisoners. 

Titan.  Down,  treacherous  lord,  and  be  our  foot-pace 

now, 

To  ascend  our  high  tribunal.     Where's  that  godhead 
With  which  the  people  ave'd  thee  to  heaven  ? 

Enc.  'Tis  sunk  into  the  deep  abysm  of  hell. 
Tear  from  his  head  the  golden  wreath  of  Crete : 
Tread  on  his  captive  bulk,  and,  with  thy  weight, 
Great  Titan,  sink  him  to  the  infernal  shades 
So  low,  that  with  his  trunk  his  memory 
May  be  extinct  in  Lethe. 

Sat.  More  than  tyrannous 
To  triumph  o'er  the  weak,  and  to  oppress 
The  low  dejected.     Let  your  cruelty 
Be  the  sad  period  of  my  wretchedness  j 
Only  preserve  my  lovely  Juno's  life, 
And  give  Sibylla  freedom. 

Enc.  By  these  gods 

We  neither  fear  nor  value,  but  contend 
To  equal  in  our  actions,  both  shall  die  : 
There  shall  no  proud  Saturnian  live,  to  brave 
The  meanest  of  the  high-born  Titanois. 

Lye.  Raze  from  the  earth  their  hateful  memory, 
And  let  the  blood  of  Titan  sway  the  earth. — 
Speak,  are  the  ports  and  confines  strongly  armed 
'Gainst  all  invasions  ? 

Titan.  Who  dares  damage  us  ? — 
Let  all  the  passages  be  open  left ; 
Unguarded  let  our  ports  and  havens  lie. 
All  danger  we  despise ;  mischance  or  dread 
We  hold  in  base  contempt. 

Enc.  Conquest  is  ours, 
Maugre  divine  or  base  terrestrial  powers.         [Alarum. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  49 

Enter  ^EGEON. 

JEg.  Arm,  royal  Titan  !     Arm,  Enceladus  ! 
A  pale  of  brandish'd  steel  hath  girt  thy  land : 
From  the  earth's  caverns  break  infernal  fires, 
To  make  thy  villages  and  hamlets  burn. 
Tempestuous  ruin,  in  the  shape  of  war, 
Clouds  all  thy  populous  kingdom.     At  my  heels 
Confusion  dogs  me,  and  the  voice  of  death 
Still  thunders  in  mine  ears. 

Titan.  Is't  possible  ? — Bear  Saturn  first  to  prison ; 
We'll  after  parley  them. 

Enc.  Come  angels  arm'd,  or  devils  clad  in  flames, 
Our  fury  shall  repel  them :  come  they  girt 
With  power  celestial  or  infernal  rage, 
We'll  stand  their  fierce  opposure. — Royal  Titan, 
-ZEgeon,  and  Hyperion,  d'  on  your  arms : 
Bravely  advance  your  strong  orbicular  shields, 
And  in  your  right  hands  brandish  your  bright  steel. 
Drown  your  affrightments  in  th'  amazed  sounds 
Of  martial  thunder,  diapason'd  deep. 
We'll  stand  them,  be  they  Gods ;  if  men,  expel 
Their  strengthless  force,  and  stound  them  low  as  hell. 

A  flourish.      Enter,    marching,    King   MELLESEUS, 
JUPITER,  ARCHAS  ;  dram  and  Soldiers. 

Titan.  Whence  are  you  that  intrude  on  our  confines, 
Or  what  portend  you  in  these  hostile  sounds 
Of  clamorous  war  ? 

Jup.  Titan's  destruction, 
With  all  the  ruin  of  his  giant  race. 

Titan.  By  what  pretence  or  claim  ? 

Jup.  In  right  of  Saturn, 
Whom  against  law  the  Titans  have  deposed. 

Titan.  What  art  thou  speak'st  it  ? 

E 


50  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Jup.  I  am  Jupiter, 
King  Saturn's  son,  immediate  heir  to  Crete. 

Enc.  There  pause :  that  word  disturbs  all  thy  claim, 
And  proves  that  Titan  seats  him  in  his  own. 

Titan.  If  Saturn,  as  thou  say'st,  hath  sons  alive, 
His  oath  is  broken,  and  we  are  justly  seized 
Of  Greta's  crown  by  his  late  forfeiture. 

jEg.  Thy  tongue  hath  spoke  thy  own  destruction, 
Since  whom  King  Saturn  spar'd  our  swords  must  kill, 
And  he  is  come  to  offer  up  that  life, 
Which  hath  so  long  been  forfeit. 

Jup.  Tyrants,  no : 

The  heavens  preserv'd  me  for  a  farther  use ; 
To  plague  your  offspring  that  afflict  the  earth, 
And  with  your  threatenings  spurn  against  the  Gods. 

Lye.  Now  shalt  thou  pay  me  for  Calisto's  wrong, 
Exiling  me,  and  for  dishonouring  her. 

Jup.  Are  you  there,  cannibal?  man-eating  wolf? 
Lycaon,  thou  art  much  beholding  to  me : 
I  woman'd  first  Calisto,  and  made  thee 
A  grandfather.     Dost  not  thank  me  for't  ? 
See,  here's  the  boy :  this  is  Arcadia's  king ; 
No  more  Pelasgia  now,  since  thy  exile. 

Titan.  To  thee  that  styl'st  thyself  King  Saturn's  son,. 
Know  thou  wast  doom'd  before  thy  birth  to  die, 
Thy  claim  disabled ;  and  in  saving  thee 
Thy  father  hath  made  forfeit  of  his  crown. 

Jup.  Know,  tyrant,  I  was  born  free  as  my  father, 
Nor  had  he  power  to  take  that  life  away 
That  the  Gods  freely  gave  me. — Tyrants,  see 
Here  is  that  life  you  by  indenture  claim : 
Seize  it  and  take  it ;  but,  before  I  fall, 
Death  and  destruction  shall  confound  you  all. 

Enc.  Destruction  is  our  vassal,  and  attends 
Upon  the  threatening  of  our  stormy  brows. — 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  51 

We  trifle  hours  :  arm  all  your  fronts  with  horror, 
Your  hearts  with  fury,  and  your  hands  with  death  ; 
Thunder  meet  thunder,  tempests  storms  defy  ; 
Saturn  and  all  his  issue  this  day  die. 

Alarum.    The  battles  join  :  TITAN  is  slain,  and  his  party 
repulsed.     Enter 


.  Where's  now  the  high  and  proud  Enceladus, 
To  stop  the  fury  of  the  adverse  foe, 
Or  stay  the  base  flight  of  our  dastard  troops  ? 
Titan  is  slain,  Hyperion  strews  the  earth, 
And  thousands  by  the  hands  of  Jupiter 
Are  sent  into  black  darkness.     All  that  stand 
Sink  in  the  weight  of  his  high  jovial  hand  ; 
To  shun  whose  rage,  ^Egeon,  thou  must  fly. 
Crete,  with  our  hoped  conquests,  all  adieu. 
We  must  propose  new  quests,  since  Saturn's  son 
Hath  by  his  puissance  all  our  camp  o'errun.          [Exit. 

Alarum.  Enter  ENCELADUS,  leading  his  army  ;  JUPITER 
leading  his.     They  make  a  stand. 

Enc.  None   stir.     Be   all   your   arms   cramp'd    and 

diseased, 

Your  swords  unuseful  ;  may  all  your  steely  glaves 
Command  your  hands,  and  not  your  sinews  them, 
Till  I  by  single  valour  have  subdued 
This  murderer  of  my  father. 

Jup.  Here  he  stands, 

That  must  for  death  have  honour  at  thy  hands.  — 
None  interrupt  us  :  singly  we'll  contend, 
And  'twixt  us  two  give  these  rude  factions  end. 

Enc.  Two  royal  armies,  then,  on  both  sides  stand, 
To  view  this  strange  and  dreadful  monomachy.  — 
Thy  fall,  Saturnian,  adds  to  my  renown, 
For  by  thy  death  I  gain  the  Cretan  crown. 

E  2 


52  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Jup.  Death  is  thy  due :  I  find  it  in  thy  stars, 
Whilst  our  high  name  gives  period  to  these  wars. 

[Alarum.  They  combat  with  javelins  first ;  after 
with  swords  and  targets.  JUPITER  kitts  ENCEL- 
ADUS,  and  enters  with  victory.  JUPITER,  SATURN, 
SIBYLLA,  JUNO,  MELLISEUS,  ARCHAS,  with  the 
Lords  of  Crete. 

Sat.  Never  was  Saturn  deified  till  now, 
Nor  found  that  perfectness  the  gods  enjoy. 
Heaven  can  assure  no  greater  happiness, 
Than  I  attain  in  sight  of  Jupiter. 

Sib.  Oh,  my  dear  son  1  born  with  my  painful  throes, 
And  with  the  hazard  of  my  life  preserved, 
How  well  hast  thou  acquitted  all  my  travails, 
In  this  thy  last  and  famous  victory. 

Jup.  This  tells  me  that  yon  royal  King  of  Crete 
My  father  is,  and  that  renowned  queen 
My  mother :  all  which  proves  by  circumstance 
That  'tis  but  duty  that  by  me's  achieved. 
Only  yon  beauteous  lady  stands  apart 
I  know  not  how  to  style. 

Sat.  'Tis  Juno,  and  thy  sister. 

Jup.  Oh,  my  stars  ! 
You  seek  to  make  immortal  Jupiter. 

Juno.  Juno  is  only  happy  in  the  fortunes 
Of  her  renowned  brother. 

Jup.  Royal  Saturn, 
If  ever  I  deserv'd  well  as  a  victor, 
Or  if  my  warlike  deeds,  yet  bleeding  new, 
And  perfect  both  in  eyes  and  memory, 
May  plead  for  me :  oh !  if  I  may  obtain 
As  one  that  merits,  or  entreat  of  you 
As  one  that  owes,  being  titled  now  your  son, 
Let  me  espouse  fair  Juno. — And,  bright  lady, 
Let  me  exchange  the  name  of  sister  with  you, 


SCENK  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  53 

And  style  you  by  a  nearer  name  of  wife. 
Oh  !  be  my  spouse,  fair  Juno. 

Juno.  'Tis  a  name 
I  prize  'bove  sister,  if  these  grace  the  same. 

Sat.  What  is  it  I'll  deny  my  Jupiter  ? 
She  is  thy  own.     I'll  royalize  thy  nuptials 
With  all  the  solemn  triumphs  Crete  can  yield. 

Mel.  Epire  shall  add  to  these  solemnities, 
A  nd  with  a  bounteous  hand  support  these  triumphs. 

Arc.  So  all  Arcadia  shall. 

Sat.  Then,  to  our  palace 
Pass  on  in  state.     Let  all  the  deities 
Shower  down  from  heaven  a  largess,  that  these  bridals 
May  exceed  mortal  pomp.     March !   march,  and  leave 

me 

To  contemplate  these  joys,  and  to  devise 
How  with  best  state  this  night  to  solemnize. 

[They  all  march  off,  and  leave  SATUKN  alone. 

Sat.  Saturn  at  length  is  happy  by  his  son, 
Whose  matchless  and  unrivall'd  dignities 
Are  without  peer  on  earth.     Oh,  joy!     Joy?     Corsive 
Worse   than   the    throes    of   child-birth,   or  the   tor- 
tures 

Of  black  Cimmerian  darkness.     Saturn,  now 
Bethink  thee  of  the  Delphian  Oracle  : 
He  shall  his  father's  virtues  first  excel, 
Seize  Crete,  and  after  drive  him  down  to  hell. 
The  first  is  past ;  my  virtues  are  exceeded : 
The  last  I  will  prevent  by  force  or  treason. 
I'll  work  his  ruin  ere  he  grow  too  high ; 
His  stars  have  cast  it,  and  the  boy  shall  die. 
More  sons  I  have ;  more  crowns  I  cannot  win : 
The  Gods  say  he  must  die,  and  'tis  no  sin. 

[Exit.'] 


54  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

ACTUS  IV.     SC^ENA  I. 
Enter  HOMER. 

Homer.  Oh !  blind  ambition  and  desire  of  reign, 
What  horrid  mischief  wilt  thou  not  devise  ? 
The  appetite  of  rule  and  thirst  of  reign 
Besot  the  foolish  and  corrupt  the  wise. 
Behold  a  king,  suspicious  of  his  son, 
Pursues  his  innocent  life,  and  without  cause. 
Oh  !  blind  ambition,  what  hast  thou  not  done 
Against  religion,  zeal,  and  nature's  laws  ? 

But  men  are  born  their  own  fates  to  pursue  ; 

Gods  will  be  gods,  and  Saturn  finds  it  true. 

A  dumb  show.  Enter  JUPITER,  JUNO,  MELLISEUS, 
ARCHAS,  as  to  revels.  To  them  SATURN  ;  draws  his 
sword  to  kill  JUPITER,  wlio  only  defends  himself;  but 
being  hotly  pursued)  draws  his  sword,  beats  away 
SATURN,  seizeth  his  crown,  and  swears  all  the  Lords  of 
CRETE  to  his  obeisance :  so  Exit. 

Saturn  against  his  son  his  force  extended, 

And  would  have  slain  him  by  his  tyrannous  hand, 

Whilst  Jupiter  alone  his  life  defended ; 

But  when  no  prayers  his  fury  could  withstand, 

He  us'd  his  force,  his  father  drove  from  Crete, 

And,  as  the  Oracle  before  had  told, 

Usurp'd  the  crown.     The  lords  kneel  at  his  feet, 

And  Saturn's  fortunes  are  to  exile  sold. 

But  leaving  him,  of  Danae,  that  bright  lass, 

How  amorous  Jove  first  wrought  her  to  his  power ; 

How  she  was  closed  in  a  fort  of  brass, 

And  how  he  scal'd  it  in  a  golden  shower, 

Of  these  we  next  must  speak.     Courteous  and  wise, 
Help  with  your  hands,  for  Homer  wants  his  eyes. 

[Exit.'] 


SCKNK  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  55 

A  flourish.    Enter  JUPITER,  JUNO,  the  Lords  of  Crete, 
MELLISEUS,  ARCHAS,  NEPTUNE,  and  PLUTO. 

Jup.  Our  unkind  father,  double  tyrannous 
To  prosecute  the  virtues  of  his  son, 
Hath  sought  his  own  fate,  and  by  his  ingratitude 
Left  to  our  head  the  imperial  wreath  of  Crete, 
Which  gladly  we  receive. — Neptune  from  Athens, 
And  Pluto  from  the  Lower  Tartary, 
Both  welcome  to  the  Cretan  Jupiter. 
Those  stars  that  govern'd  our  nativity, 
And  stripp'd  our  fortunes  from  the  hand  of  death, 
Shall  guard  us  and  maintain  us. 

Nep.  Noble  Saturn, 

Famous  in  all  things,  and  degenerate  only 
In  that  inhuman  practice  'gainst  his  sons, 
Is  fled  us,  whom  we  came  to  visit  freely, 
And  filial  duties  to  express.     Great  Athens, 
The  nurse  and  fostress  of  my  infancy, 
I  have  instructed  in  the  seaman's  craft, 
And  taught  them  truly  how  to  sail  by  stars. 
Besides,  the  unruly  jennet  I  have  tamed, 
And  train'd  him  to  the  saddle  for  my  practice. 
The  horse  to  me  is  solely  consecrate. 

Pluto.  I  from  the  bounds  of  Lower  Tartary 
Have  travell'd  to  the  fertile  plains  of  Crete ; 
Nor  am  I  less  in  lustre  of  my  fame, 
Than  Neptune  or  renowned  Jupiter. 
Those  barren  kingdoms  I  have  rich'd  with  spoils, 
And  not  a  people  traffics  in  those  worlds 
For  wealth  or  treasure,  but  we  custom  them, 
And  they  enrich  our  coffers :  our  arm'd  guards 
Prey  on  their  camels  and  their  laden  mules, 
And  Pluto's  through  the  world  renown'd  and  fear'd. 
And  since  we  miss'd  of  Saturn,  lately  fled, 


Cb  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

It  glads  me  yet  I  freely  may  survey 
The  honours  of  my  brother  Jupiter. 

Nep.  And  beauteous  Juno,  empress  of  all  hearts, 
Whom  Neptune  thus  embraceth. 

Pluto.  So  doth  Pluto. 

Juno.  All  divine  honours  crown  the  royal  temples 
Of  my  two  famous  brothers. 

Jup.  King  Melliseus,  welcome  them  to  Crete : 
Arenas,  do  you  the  like. 

Mel.  Princes,  your  hands. 

Arc.  You  are  my  royal  uncles. 

Jup.  Nay,  hand  him,  lords ;  he  is  your  kinsman,  too : 
Archas,  my  son,  of  fair  Calisto  born. — 
I  hope,  fair  Juno,  it  offends  not  you : 
It  was  before  your  time. 

Juno.  She  was  a  strumpet. 

Jup.  She  shall  be  a  star ; 

And  all  the  queens  and  beauteous  maids  on  earth, 
That  are  renown'd  for  high  perfections, 
We'll  woo  and  win.     We  were  born  to  sway  and  rule ; 
Nor  shall  the  name  of  wife  be  curb  to  us, 
Or  snaffle  in  our  pleasures.     Beauteous  lo 
And  fair  Europa  have,  by  our  transhapes 
And  guiles  of  love,  already  been  deflowered ; 
Nor  lives  she  that  is  worthy  our  desires, 
But  we  can  charm  with  courtship. — Royal  brothers, 
What  news  of  note  is  rumour'd  in  those  realms 
Through  which  you  made  your  travels  ? 

Nep.  Have  you  heard 
Of  great  Acrisius,  the  brave  Argos  king, 
And  of  his  daughter  Danae  ? 

Jup.  His  renown 

And  her  fair  beauty  oft  have  pierc'd  our  ears  ; 
Nor  can  we  be  at  peace,  till  we  behold 
That  face  fame  hath  so  blaz'd  on.     What  of  her  ? 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  5 

Nep.  Of  her  enclosure  in  the  Darreine  tower, 
Girt  with  a  triple  mure  of  shining  brass, 
Have  you  not  heard  ? 

Jup.  But  we  desire  it  highly. 
What  marble  wall,  or  adamantine  gate, 
What  fort  of  steel,  or  castle  forg'd  from  brass, 
Love  cannot  scale,  or  beauty  not  break  through  ? 
Discourse  the  novel,  Neptune. 

Nep.  Thus  it  was. 

The  Queen  of  Argos  growing  great,  the  King 
Sends  (as  the  custom  is)  to  th'  Oracle 
To  know  what  fortunes  shall  betide  the  babe. 
Answer's  return'd  by  Pho3bus  and  his  priests, 
The  Queen  shall  child  a  daughter  beautiful, 
Who,  when  she  grows  to  years,  shall  then  bring  forth 
A  valiant  princely  boy ;  yet  such  a  one, 
That  shall  the  king,  his  grandsire,  turn  to  stone. 
Danae  is  born,  and  as  she  grows  to  ripeness, 
So  grew  her  father's  fear ;  and  to  prevent 
His  ominous  fate,  pronounc'd  by  th'  Oracle, 
He  moulds  this  brazen  tower,  impregnable 
Both  for  the  seat  and  guard,  yet  beautiful 
As  is  the  gorgeous  palace  of  the  sun. 

Jup.  Ill  doth  Acrisius  to  contend  and  war 
Against  th'  unchanging  fates. — I'll  scale  that  tower, 
Or  rain  down  millions  in  a  golden  shower. 
I  long  to  be  the  father  of  that  babe, 
Begot  on  Danae,  that  shall  prove  so  brave, 
And  turn  the  dotard  to  his  marble  grave. 
'Tis  cast  already.     Fate,  be  thou  my  guide, 
Whilst  for  this  amorous  journey  I  provide. 

Mel.  But  is  the  lady  there  immur'd  and  closed 
From  all  society  and  sight  of  man  ? 

Nep.  So  full  of  jealous  fears  is  King  Acrisius, 
That,  save  himself,  no  man.  must  near  the  fort. 


58  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

Only  a  guard  of  beldams,  past  their  lusts, 
Insensible  of  love  or  amorous  pity, 
Partly  by  bribes  hir'd,  partly  curb'd  with  threats, 
Are  guard  unto  this  bright  imprison'd  dame. 

Pluto.  Too  pitiless,  and  too  obdure's  the  King, 
To  cloister  beauty  from  the  sight  of  man. 
But  this  concerns  not  us. 

Jup.  That  fort  I'll  scale, 
Though,  in  attempting  it,  be  death  to  fail. — 
Brothers  and  princes ;  all  our  court's  rarities 
Lie  open  to  your  royall'st  entertainment  : 
Yet  pardon  me,  since  urgence  calls  me  hence 
To  an  enforced  absence. — Nay,  Queen  Juno, 
You  must  be  pleas'd :  the  cause  imports  us  highly. 
Feast  with  these  princes  till  our  free  return. — 
Attendance,  lords  ! — We  must  descend  in  gold, 
Or  yon  imprison'd  beauty  ne'er  behold.  [Exeunt. 

Enter  four  old  Beldams,  with  other  women. 

1  Beld.  Here's  a  coil  to  keep  fire  and  tow  asunder ! 
I  wonder  the  King  should  shut  his  daughter  up   so 
close:    for  any  thing  I  see,  she  hath  no  mind  to  a 
man. 

2  Beld.  Content  yourself;    you  speak  according  to 
your  age   and  appetite.     We  that  are  full  fed  may 
praise  fast :  we  that  in  our  heat  of  youth  have  drunk 
our  bellyfuls,  may  deride  those  that  in  the  heat  of  their 
bloods  are  athirst.     I  measure  her  by  what  I  was,  not 
by  what  I  am.     Appetite  to  love  never  fails  an  old 
woman,  till  the  cracking  of  nuts  leaves  her.     When 
Danae  hath  no  more  teeth  in  her  head  than  you  and  I, 
I'll  trust  a  man  in  her  company,  and  scarce  then ;  for  if 
we  examine  ourselves,  we  have,  even  at  these  years, 
qualms,  and  rheums,  and  devices  come  over  our  sto- 
machs, when  we  but  look  on  a  proper  man. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  59 

1  Beld.  That's  no  question;   I  know  it  by  myself, 
and  whilst  I  stand  sentinel  I'll  watch  her  for  that,  I 
warrant  her. 

2  Beld.  Have  we  not  reason,  considering  the  penalty  ? 
1  Beld.  If  any  stand   sentinel  in  her  quarters,  we 

shall  keep  quarter  here  no  longer.  If  the  princess 
miscarry,  we  shall  make  gunpowder;  and  they  say  an 
old  woman  is  better  for  that  than  saltpetre. 

[  The  Alarum  bell  rings. 

3  Beld.  The  'larum  bell  rings.     It  should  be  King 
Acrisius,  by  the  sound  of  the  clapper. 

4  Beld.  Then,  clap  close  to  the  gate,  and  let  him  in. 

Enter  ACRISIUS. 

Acr.  Ladies,  well  done.     I  like  this  providence 
And  careful  watch  o'er  Danae.     Let  me  find  you 
Faithless,  you  die ;  be  faithful,  and  you  live 
Eterniz'd  in  our  love.     Go,  call  her  hither ; 
Be  that  your  charge.  [Exit  Beldam.'] 

The  rest  keep  watchful  eye 
On  your  portculliced  entrance,  which  forbids 
All  men,  save  us,  free  passage  to  this  place. 

Enter  DANAE  and  Beldam. 

See,  Danae  is  descended. — Fair  daughter, 
How  do  you  brook  this  palace  ? 

Dan.  Like  a  prison. 

What  is  it  else  ?     You  give  me  golden  fetters, 
As  if  their  value  could  my  bondage  lessen. 

Acr.  The  architecture's  sumptuous,  and  the  building 
Of  cost  invaluable :  so  rich  a  structure, 
For  beauty  or  for  state,  the  world  affords  not. 
Is  not  thy  attendance  princely,  like  a  queen's  ? 
Are  not  all  these  thy  vassals  to  attend  ? 
Are  not  thy  chambers  fair  and  richly  hung  ? 


60  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

The  walks  within  this  barricadoed  mure 

Full  of  delight  and  pleasure  ?     For  thy  taste 

And  curious  palate  all  the  chiefest  cates 

Are  from  the  farthest  verges  of  the  earth 

Fetch'd  to  content  thee.     What  distastes  thee,  then  ? 

Dan.  That  which  alone  is  better  than  all  these — 
My  liberty.     Why  am  I  cloister'd  thus, 
And  kept  a  prisoner  from  the  sight  of  man  ? 
What  hath  my  innocence  and  infancy 
Deserv'd,  to  be  immur'd  in  brazen  walls  ? 
Can  you  accuse  my  faith,  or  modesty  ? 
Hath  any  loose  demeanour  in  my  carriage 
Bred  this  distrust  ?     Hath  my  eye  play'd  the  rioter  ? 
Or  hath  my  tongue  been  lavish  ?     Have  my  favours, 
Unvirginlike,  to  any  been  profuse, 
That  it  should  breed  in  you  such  jealousy, 
Or  bring  me  to  this  durance  ? 

Acr.  None  of  these. 
I  love  my  Danae ;  but  when  I  record 
The  Oracle,  it  breeds  such  fear  in  me, 
That  makes  this  thy  retainment. 

Dan.  The  Oracle ! 

Wherein  unto  the  least  of  all  the  gods 
Hath  Danae  been  unthankful  or  profane, 
To  bondage  me,  that  am  a  princess  free, 
And  votaress  to  every  deity  ? 

Acr.  I'll  tell  thee,  lady.     The  unchanging  mouth 
Of  Phrebus  hath  this  Oracle  pronounc'd, 
That  Danae  shall  in  time  child  such  a  son, 
That  shall  Acrisius  change  into  a  stone. 

Dan.  See  your  vain  fears  !    What  less  could  Phoebus 

say? 

Or  what  hath  Danae's  fate  deserv'd  in  this  ? 
To  turn  you  into  stone?  that's  to  prepare 
Your  monument  and  marble  sepulchre. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  61 

The  meaning  is  that  I  a  son  shall  have, 

That  when  you  die  shall  bear  you  to  your  grave. 

Are  you  not  mortal  ?     Would  you  ever  live  ? 

Your  father  died,  and  to  his  monument 

You,  like  a  mourner,  did  attend  his  hearse : 

What  you  did  to  your  father,  let  my  son 

Perform  to  you — prepare  your  sepulchre. 

Or  shall  a  stranger  bear  you  to  your  tomb, 

When  from  your  own  blood  you  may  store  a  prince 

To  do  those  sacred  rites.     Or  shall  vain  fears 

Cloister  my  beauty,  and  consume  my  years  ? 

Acr.  Our  fears  are  certain,  and  our  doom  as  fixed 
As  the  decrees  of  gods.     Thy  durance  here 
Is  with  limit  endless.  [Exit  DANAE. 

Go :  attend  her 

Unto  her  chamber,  there  to  live  an  anchoress, 
And  changeless  virgin  to  the  period 
Of  her  last  hour.  [Exit  Woman.~] 

And  you,  to  whom  this  charge 
Solely  belongs,  banish  all  womanish  pity : 
Be  deaf  unto  her  prayers,  blind  to  her  tears, 
Obdure  to  her  relenting  passions. 
Should  she  (as  Heaven  and  the  Oracle  forbid  ! ) 
By  your  corrupting  lose  that  precious  gem 
We  have  such  care  to  keep  and  lock  safe  up, 
Your  lives  are  doom'd.     Be  faithful,  we  desire, 
And  keep  your  bodies  from  the  threaten'd  fire. 

{Exit. 

1  Beld.   Heaven    be    as    chary    of  your    highness' 

life, 

As  we  of  Danae's  honour. 

Now,  if  she  be  a  right  woman,  she  will  have  a  mind 
only  to  lose  that,  which  her  father  hath  such  care  to 
keep.  There  is  a  thing  that  commonly  sticks  under  a 
woman's  stomach. 


62  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

2  Beld.  What  do  we,  talking  of  things  ?  There  must 
be  no  meddling  with  things  in  this  place.  Come ;  let 
us  set  our  watch,  and  take  our  lodgings  before  the  prin- 
cess' chamber.  [Exeunt. 

Enter  JUPITER,  like  a  Pedlar ;  the  Clown,  his  man,  with 
packs  at  their  backs. 

Jup.  Sirrah,  now  I  have  sworn  you  to  secrecy,  attend 
your  charge. 

Clown.  Charge  me  to  the  mouth,  and  till  you  give 
fire  I'll  not  off. 

Jup.  Thou  knowest  I  have  stuffed  my  pack  with  rich 
jewels,  to  purchase  one  jewel  worth  all  these. 

Clown.  If  your  precious  stones  were  set  in  that  jewel, 
it  would  be  brave  wearing. 

Jup.  If  we  get  entrance,  sooth  me  up  in  all  things ; 
and  if  I  have  recourse  to  the  princess,  if  at  any  time 
thou  seest  me  whisper  to  her,  find  some  trick  or  other 
to  blind  the  beldams'  eyes. 

Clown.  She  that  hath  the  best  eyes  of  them  all,  I 
have  a  trick  to  make  her  nose  stand  in  her  light. 

Jup.  No  more  King  Jupiter,  but  goodman  Pedlar ; 
remember  that. 

Clown.  I  have  my  memorandums  about  me.  As  I 
can  bear  a  pack,  so  I  can  bear  a  brain.  And  now  I 
talk  of  a  pack,  though  I  know  not  of  the  death  of  any 
of  your  friends,  I  am  sorry  for  your  heaviness. 

Jup.  Love  and  my  hopes  do   make  my  load  seem 

light: 

This  wealth  I  will  unburden  in  the  purchase 
Of  yon  rich  beauty.     Prithee,  ring  the  bell. 

Clown.  Nay,  do  you  take  the  rope  in  hand,  for  luck's 
sake.  The  moral  is,  because  you  shall  ring  all  in. 

Jup.  I  care  not  if  I  take  thy  counsel. 

[He  rings  the  bell. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  63 

Enter  the  four  Beldams. 

1  Held.  To  the  gate,  to  the  gate ;  and  know  who  'tis, 
ere  you  open. 

2  Held.  I  learn'd  that  in  my  youth,  still  to  know  who 
knocked  before  I  would  open. 

Jup.  Save  you,  gentle  matrons.     May  a  man  be  so 
bold  as  ask  what  he  may  call  this  rich  and  stately  tower  ? 

3  Beld.  Thou  seemest  a  stranger,  to  ask  such  a  ques- 
tion ;  for  where  is  not  the  tower  of  Darreine  known  ? 

Clown.  It  may  be  called  the  tower  of  barren,  for 
aught  I  see,  for  here  are  none  but  are  past  children. 

4  Beld.  This  is  the  rich  and  famous  Darreine  tower, 
Where  King  Acrisius  hath  enclos'd  his  daughter, 
The  beauteous  Danae,  famous  through  the  world 
For  all  perfections. 

Jup.  Oh  !  then,  'tis  here,  ay,  here  I  must  unload. 
Coming  through  Crete,  the  great  King  Jupiter 
Entreated  me  to  call  here,  at  this  tower, 
And  to  deliver  you  some  special  jewels 
Of  high-priz'd  worth ;  for  he  would  have  his  bounty 
Renown'd  through  all  the  earth. — Down  with  your  pack, 
For  here  we  must  unload. 

1  Beld.  Jewels  to  us  ? 

2  Beld.  And  from  Jupiter  ? 

Jup.  Now,  gold,  prove  thy  true  virtue :  thou  canst 

all  things, 
And  therefore  this. 

3  Beld.  Comes  he  with  presents,  and  shall  he  unpack 
at  the  gate  ? — Nay,  come  into  the  porter's  lodge,  good 
pedlars. 

Clown.  That  lady  hath  some  manners :  she  hath  been 
well  brought  up,  I  warrant  her. 

4  Beld.  And  I  can  tell  thee,  pedlar,  thou  hast  that  cour- 
tesy never  any  man  yet  found  but  the  King  Acrisius. 


64  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

Jup.  You  shall  be  paid  well  for  your  courtesy. 
Here's  first  for  you,  for  you,  for  you,  for  you. 

1  Beld.  Kare  ! 

2  Beld.  Admirable ! 

3  Beld.  The  best  that  e'er  I  saw. 

4  Beld.  I'll  run  and  show  mine  to  my  lady. 

1  Beld.  Shut  the  gate,  for  fear  the  King  come,  and  if 
he  ring,  clap  the  pedlars  into  some  of  yon  old  rotten 
corners. — And  hath  King  Jupiter  been  at  all  this  cost? 
He's  a  courteous  prince,  and  bountiful. — Keep  you  the 
pedlar  company ;  my  lady  shall  see  mine,  too. 

Jup.  Mean  you  the  princess,  Danae  ?  I  have  tokens 
from  Jupiter  to  her,  too. 

1  Beld.  Run,  run,  you  that  have  the  best  legs,  and 
tell  my  lady. — But  have  you  any  more  of  the  same  ? 

Clown.  Have  we,  quoth  ha!  we  have  things  about 
us  we  have  not  shewed  yet,  and  that  every  one  must 
not  see,  would  make  those  few  teeth  in  your  head 
water.  I  would  have  you  think  I  have  ware,  too,  as 
well  as  my  master. 

Enter,  in  state,  DANAE,  with  the  Beldams,  looking  upon 
their  several  jewels. 

1  Beld.  Yonder's  my  lady. — Nay,  never  be  abashed, 
pedlar.  There's  a  face  will  become  thy  jewels  as  well 
as  any  face  in  Crete  or  Argos  either.  Now,  your 
token. 

Jup.  I  have  lost  it :  'tis  my  heart. — Beauty  of  angels, 
Thou  art  o'ermatch'd !  earth  may  contend  with  heaven. 
Nature,  thou  hast,  to  make  one  complete  creature, 
Cheated  even  all  mortality.     This  face 
Hath  robb'd  the  morning  of  her  blush,  the  lily 
Of  her  blanch'd  whiteness,  and  like  theft  committed 
Upon  my  soul     She  is  all  admiration ! 
But  in  her  eyes  I  ne'er  saw  perfect  lustre. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  65 

There  is  no  treasure  upon  earth,  but  yonder  ! 
She  is — Oh  !  I  shall  lose  myself. 

Clown.  Nay,  sir,  take  heed  you  be  not  smelt  out. 

Jup.  I  am  myself  again. 

Dan.  Did  he  bestow  these  freely  ?     Danae's  guard 
Are  much  indebted  to  King  Jupiter. 
If  he  have  store,  we'll  buy  some  for  our  use 
And  wearing :  they  are  wondrous  beautiful. 
Where's  the  man  that  brought  them  ? 

1  Beld.  Here,  forsooth,  lady. — Hold  up  your  head, 
and  blush  not :  my  lady  will  not  hurt  thee,  I  warrant 
thee. 

Jup.  This  jewel,  madam,  did  King  Jupiter 
Command  me  to  leave  here  for  Danae. 
Are  you  so  sty  I'd  ? 

Dan.  If  sent  to  Danae, 

'Tis  due  to  me.     And  would  the  King  of  Crete 
Knew  with  what  gratitude  we  take  his  gift ! 

Jup.  Madam,  he  shall. — Sirrah,  ope  your  pack, 
And  what  the  ladies  like,  let  them  take  freely. 

Dan.  Much  have  I  heard  of  his  renown  in  arms, 
His  generousness,  his  virtues,  and  his  fulness 
Of  all  that  nature  can  bequeath  to  man. 
His  bounty  I  now  taste ;  and  I  could  wish 
Your  ear  were  his,  that  I  might  let  him  know 
What  interest  he  hath  in  me  to  command. 

Jup.  His  ear  is  mine :  let  me  command  you,  then. 
Behold !  I  am  the  Cretan  Jupiter, 
That  rate  your  beauty  above  all  these  gems. 
What  cannot  love  ?     What  dares  not  love  attempt  ? 
Despite  Acrisius  and  his  armed  guards, 
Hither  my  love  hath  brought  me,  to  receive 
Or  life  or  death  from  you,  only  from  you. 

Dan.  We  are  amaz'd ;  and  the  large  difference 
Betwixt  your  name  and  habit,  breeds  in  us 

F 


66  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

Fear  and  distrust.     Yet  if  I  censure  freely, 
I  needs  must  think  that  face  and  personage 
Were  ne'er  deriv'd  from  baseness ;  and  the  spirit 
To  venture  and  to  dare  to  court  a  queen, 
I  cannot  style  less  than  to  be  a  king's. 
Say  that  we  grant  you  to  be  Jupiter, 
What  thence  infer  you  ? 

Jup.  To  love  Jupiter. 

Dan.  So  far  as  Jupiter  loves  Danae's  honour, 
So  far  will  Danae  love  Jupiter. 

2  Beld.  We  wait  well  on  my  lady. 

Jup.  Madam,  you  have  not  seen  a  clearer  stone 
For  colour  or  for  quickness. — Sweet,  your  ear. 

Dan.  Beware  your  ruin,  if  yon  beldams  hear. 

Jup.  Sirrah,  show  all  your  wares,  and  let  those  ladies 
best  please  themselves. 

Clown.  Not  all  at  these  years. — I  spy  his  knavery. 
Now  would  he  have  me  keep  them  busied,  whilst  he 
courts  the  lady. 

3  Beld.  Doth  my  lady  want  nothing  ? 

[She  looks  back. 

Clown.  As  for  example,  here's  a  silver  bodkin.  This 
is  to  remove  dandriff,  and  dig  about  the  roots  of  your 
silver-hair'd  fur.  This  is  a  tooth-picker,  but  you  having 
no  teeth,  here  is  for  you  a  coral  to  rub  your  gums. 
This  is  called  a  mask. 

1  Beld.  Gramercy  for  this :  this  is  good  to  hide  my 
wrinkles.  I  never  see  of  these  afore. 

Clown.  Then,  you  have  one  wrinkle  more  behind. 
You  that  are  dim-eyed,  put  this  pitiful  spectacle  on 
your  nose. 

Jup.  As  I  am  son  of  Saturn,  you  have  wrong 
To  be  coop'd  up  within  a  prison  strong. 
Your  father,  like  a  miser,  cloisters  you 
But  to  save  cost:  he's  loth  to  pay  your  dower, 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  67 

And  therefore  keeps  you  in  this  brazen  tower. 
What  are  you  better  to  be  beautiful, 
When  no  man's  eye  can  come  to  censure  it  ? 
What  are  sweet  cates  untasted  ?  gorgeous  clothes 
Unworn,  or  beauty  not  beheld.     Yon  beldams, 
With  all  the  furrows  in  their  wrinkled  fronts, 
May  claim  with  you  like  worth ;  ay,  and  compare ; 
For  eye  to  censure  you  none  can,  none  dare. 

Dan.  All  this  is  true. 

Jup.  Oh !  think  you  I  would  lie — 
With  any  save  Danae  ? — Let  me  buy 
This  jewel  your  bright  love,  though  rated  higher 
Than  Gods  can  give,  or  men  in  prayers  desire. 

Dan.  You  covet  that,  which,  save  the  prince  of  Crete, 
None  dares. 

Jup.  That  shows  how  much  I  love  you,  sweet. 
I  come  this  beauty,  this  rare  face  to  save, 
And  to  redeem  it  from  this  brazen  grave. 
Oh  !  do  not  from  man's  eye  this  beauty  screen, 
These  rare  perfections,  which  no  earthly  queen 
Enjoys,  save  you :  'twas  made  to  be  admired. 
The  Gods,  the  fates,  and  all  things  have  conspired 
With  Jupiter  this  prison  to  invade, 
And  bring  it  forth  to  that  for  which  'twas  made. 
Love  Jupiter,  whose  love  with  yours  shall  meet, 
And  having  borne  you  hence,  make  at  your  feet 
Kings  lay  their  crowns,  and  mighty  emperors  kneel. 
Oh  !  had  you  but  a  touch  of  what  I  feel, 
You  would  both  love  and  pity. 

Dan.  Both  I  do ; 

But  aU  things  hinder :  yet  were  Danae  free, 
She  would  affect  the  Cretan. 

Jup.  Now,  by  thee, 

(For  what  I  most  affect,  by  that  I  swear) 
I  from  this  prison  will  bright  Danae  bear, 

F  2 


68  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

And  in  thy  chamber  will  this  night  fast  seal 
This  covenant  made. 

Dan.  Which  Danae  must  repeal. 

Jup.  You  shall  not,  by  this  kiss. 

1  Beld.  'Tis  good  to  have  an  eye.         [She  looks  lack. 

Clown.  Your  nose  hath  not  had  these  spectacles  on 
yet. 

Dan.  Oh,  Jupiter ! 

Jup.  Oh,  Danae  ! 

Dan.  I  must  hence  ; 
For  if  I  stay,  I  yield.     I'll  hence :  no  more. 

Jup.  Expect  me,  for  I  come. 

Dan.  Yon  is  my  door : 
Dare  not  to  enter  there.     I  will  to  rest. — 
Attendance ! 

Jup.  Come  I  will. 

Dan.  You  had  not  best.  \Exit  DA:NTAE. 

2  Beld.  My  lady  calls.  We  have  trifled  the  night 
till  bed-time.  Some  attend  the  princess;  others  see 
the  pedlars  packed  out  of  the  gate. 

Clown.  Will  you  thrust  us  out  to  seek  our  lodging 
at  midnight?  We  have  paid  for  our  lodging,  a  man 
would  think :  we  might  have  lain  cheaper  in  any  inn  in 
Argos. 

Jup.  This  castle  stands  remote :  no  lodging  near. 
Spare  us  but  any  corner  here  below, 
Bert  but  the  inner  porch,  or  the  least  staircase, 
And  we'll  be  gone  as  early  as  you  please. 

2  Beld.  Consider  all  things,  we  have  no  reason  to 
deny  that.  What  need  we  fear  ?  Alas  !  they  are  but 
pedlars,  and  the  greatest  prince  that  breathes  would  be 
advised,  ere  he  durst  presume  to  court  the  princess 
Danae. 

1  Beld.  He  court  the  Princess !  He  looks  not  with 
the  face. — Well,  pedlars,  for  this  night  take  a  nap  upon 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  69 

some  bench  or  other,  and  in  the  morning  be  ready  to 
take  thy  yard  in  hand  to  measure  me  some  stuff,  and 
so  begone  before  day.  Well,  good  night:  we  must 
attend  our  princess.  [Exeunt  Beldams.~\ 

Jup.  Gold  and  reward,  thou  art  mighty,  and  hast  power 
O'er  aged,  young,  the  foolish  and  the  wise, 
The  chaste  and  wanton,  foul  and  beautiful : 
Thou  art  a  god  on  earth,  and  canst  all  things. 

Clown.  Not  all  things,  by  your  leave.  All  the  gold 
in  Crete  cannot  get  one  of  yon  old  crones  with  child. 
But  shall  we  go  sleep? 

Jup.  Sleep  thou,  for  I  must  wake  for  Danae. — 
Hence,  cloud  of  baseness :  thou  hast  done  enough 

\_He  puts  off  his  disguise. 

To  blear  yon  beldams. — When  I  next  appear 
To  you,  bright  goddess,  I  will  shine  in  gold, 
Deck'd  in  the  high  imperial  robes  of  Crete, 
And  on  my  head  the  wreath  of  majesty ; 
For  ornament  is  a  prevailing  thing, 
And  you,  bright  queen,  I'll  now  court  like  a  king. 

[Exeunt. 

Enter  the  four  old  Beldams,  drawing  out  DANAE'S  bed ; 
she  in  it.     They  place  four  tapers  at  the  four  corners. 

Dan.  Command  our  eunuchs,  with  their  pleasing'st 

tunes, 

To  charm  our  eyes  to  rest.     Leave  us ;  all  leave  us. 
The  god  of  dreams  hath  with  his  downy  fan 
Swept  o'er  our  eyelids,  and  sits  heavy  on  them. 

1  Beld.  Heigho !    Sleep  may  enter  in  at  my  mouth, 
if  he  be  no  bigger  than  a  twopenny  loaf. 

Dan.  Then,   to   your   chambers;    and   let   wakeless 

slumbers 
Charm  you  in  depth  of  silence  and  repose. 

All.  Good  night  to  thee,  fair  Danae. 


70  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

Dan.  Let  music  through  this  brazen  fortress  sound, 
Till  all  our  hearts  in  depth  of  sleep  be  drown'd. 

[Exeunt  Beldams. 

Enter  JUPITER,  crowned,  with  his  imperial  robes. 

Jup.  Silence,   that  now   hath   empire  through   the 

world, 

Express  thy  power  and  princedom.     Charming  sleep, 
Death's  younger  brother,  show  thyself  as  still-less 
As  death  himself.     None  seem  this  night  to  live, 
Save  Jove  and  Danae ;  but  that  goddess  won, 
Give  them  new  life,  breath'd  with  the  morning  sun. 
Yon  is  the  door,  that,  in  forbidding  me, 
She  bade  me  enter.     Women's  tongues  and  hearts 
Have  different  tunes ;  for  where  they  most  desire, 
Their  hearts  cry  on,  when  their  tongues  bid  retire. 
All's  whist.     I  hear  the  snorting  beldams  breathe 
Soundness  of  sleep.     None  wakes  save  love  and  we, 
Yon  bright  imprisoned  beauty  to  set  free. 
Oh,  thou,  more  beauteous  in  thy  nakedness 

Than  ornament  can  add  to  ! 

How  sweetly  doth  she  breathe  !  how  well  becomes 
Imaginary  deadness  !     But  I'll  wake  her 
Unto  new  life.     This  purchase  I  must  win : 
Heaven's  gates  stand  ope,  and  Jupiter  will  in. 
Danae  .'  [He  lies  upon  her  bed. 

Dan.  Who's  that? 

Jup.  'Tis  I ;  King  Jupiter. 

Dan.  What  mean  you,  prince  ?    How  dare  you  enter 

here, 

Knowing  if  I  but  call,  your  life  is  doomed, 
And  all  Crete's  treasure  cannot  guard  your  person  ? 

Jup.  You  tell  me  now  how  much  I  rate  your  beauty, 
Which  to  attain  I  cast  my  life  behind  me, 
As  lov'd  much  less  than  you. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  71 

Dan.  I'll  love  you,  too, 
Would  you  but  leave  me. 

Jup.  Repentance  I'd  not  buy 
At  that  high  rate,  ten  thousand  times  to  die. 
You  are  mine  own ;  so  all  the  fates  have  said, 
And  by  their  guidance  come  I  to  your  bed. 
The  night,  the  time,  the  place,  and  all  conspire 
To  make  me  happy  in  my  long  desire. 
Acrisius'  eyes  are  charm'd  in  golden  sleep. 
Those  beldams  that  were  plac'd  your  bed  to  keep, 
All  drown'd  in  Lethe :  save  your  downy  bed, 
White  sheets,  and  pillow  where  you  rest  your  head, 
None  hears  or  sees ;  and  what  can  they  devise, 
When   they,  heaven    knows,   have    neither    ears   nor 
eyes. 

Dan.  Beshrew  you,  sir,  that  for  your  amorous  pleasure 
Could  thus  sort  all  things,  person,  place,  and  leisure. 
Exclaim  I  could,  and  a  loud  uproar  keep, 
But  that  you  say  the  crones  are  all  asleep : 
And  to  what  purpose  should  I  raise  such  fear, 
My  voice  being  soft,  they  fast  and  cannot  hear  ? 

Jup.  They  are  deaf  in  rest:  then,  gentle  sweet,  lie 

further : 

If  you  should  call,  I  thus  your  voice  would  murther, 
And  strangle  with  my  kisses. 

Dan.  Kisses  ?     Tush  ! 
I'll  sink  into  my  sheets,  for  I  shall  blush. 
I'll  dive  into  my  bed. 

Jup.  And  I  behind  ? 

No :  were  't  the  ocean,  such  a  gem  to  find 
I  would  dive  after. 

[JUPITER  puts  out  the  lights,  and  makes  unready. 

Dan.  Good  my  lord,  forbear. 

What    do    you    mean?     Oh,    heaven  !     Is    no    man 
near  ? 


72  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

If  you  will  needs,  for  modesty's  sweet  law, 
Before  you  come  to  bed,  the  curtains  draw. 
But  do  not  come :  you  shall  not,  by  this  light. 
If  you  but  offer 't,  I  shall  cry  outright. 
Oh,  God  !  how  hoarse  am  I,  and  cannot !  fie  ! 
Danae  thus  naked,  and  a  man  so  nigh  ? 
Pray,  leave  me,  sir. — He  makes  unready  still. — 
Well,  I'll  even  wink,  and  then  do  what  you  will. 

\_The  bed  is  drawn  in. 

Enter  the  Clown,  new-waked. 

Clown.  I  would  I  were  out  of  this  tower  of  brass, 
and  from  all  these  brazen-faced  beldams !  If  we  should 
fall  asleep,  and  the  King  come  and  take  us  napping, 
where  were  we  ?  My  lord  stays  long,  and  the  night 
grows  short.  The  thing  you  wot  of  has  cost  him  a 
simple  sort  of  jewels ;  but  if,  after  all,  the  thing  you 
wot  of  would  not  do  ?  if  the  pedlar  should  show  himself 
a  piddler,  he  hath  brought  his  hogs  to  a  fair  market. 
Fie  upon't !  what  a  snorting,  forward  and  backward, 
these  beldams  keep.  But  let  them  sleep :  some  in  the 
house,  I  am  sure,  are  awake  and  stirring,  too,  or  I  miss 
my  aim.  Well,  here  must  I  sit,  and  wait  the  good  hour 
'till  the  gate  be  open,  and  suffer  my  eyes  to  do  that 
which  I  am  sure  my  cloak  never  will — that  is,  to  take 
nap.  \_Exit. 

Enter  JUPITER,  and  DANAE  in  her  night-gown. 

Dan.  Alas !  my  lord,  I  never  lov'd  till  now  ; 
And  will  you  leave  me? 

Jup.  Beauteous  queen,  1  must ; 
But  thus  condition'd — to  return  again, 
With  a  strong  army,  to  redeem  you  hence, 
In  spite  of  Ai'gos,  and  Acrisius 
That  dooms  you  to  this  bondage. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  73 

Dan.  Then,  farewell : 
No  sooner  meet  but  part.     Remember  me ; 
For  you,  great  prince,  I  never  shall  forget. 
I  fear  you  have  left  too  sure  a  token  with  me 
Of  your  remembrance. 

Jup.  Danae,  be' t  a  son, 
It  shall  be  ours,  when  we  have  Argos  won. 

Dan.  But  should  you  fail? 

Jup.  I  sooner  should  forget 
My  name,  my  state,  than  fail  to  pay  this  debt. 
The  day-star  'gins  t'  appear ;  the  beldams  stir, 
Ready  t'  unlock  the  gate.     Fair  Queen,  adieu. 

Dan.  All  men  prove  false,  if  Jove  be  found  untrue  ! 

[Exit  DANAE. 

Jup.  My  man  I 

Enter  the  Clown. 

Clown.  My  lord. 

Jup.  Some    cloud    to   cover    me :    throw    o'er    my 

shoulders 

Some  shadows  for  this  state.     The  crones  are  up, 
And  wait  t'  unprison  us.     Nay,  quickly,  fellow. 

Clown.  Here,  my  lord ;  cast  your  old  cloak  about  you. 

Enter  the  four  Beldams,  in  haste. 

1  Beld.  Where  be  these  pedlars? — Nay,  quickly,  for 
Heaven's  sake :  the  gate  is  open.     Nay,  when  ?     Fare- 
well, my  honest  friends,  and  do  our  humble  duties  to 
the  great  King  Jupiter. 

Jup.  King  Jupiter  shall  know  your  gratitude :  fare- 
well. 

2  Beld.  Nay ;  when  I  say  farewell,  farewell. 
Cloicn.  Farewell,  good  Minevers. 

\_Eixeunt  divers  ways. 


74  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  V. 

ACTUS  V.     SCJENA  I. 
Enter  HOMER. 

Homer.  Fair  Danae  doth  his  richest  jewel  wear ; 
That  son,  of  whom  the  Oracle  foretold, 
Which  cost  both  mother  and  the  grandsire  dear ; 
Whose  fortunes  farther  leisure  shall  unfold. 
Think  Jupiter  return'd  to  Crete  in  haste, 
To  levy  arms  for  Danae's  free  release, 
But  hindered  'till  the  time  be  fully  past ; 
For  Saturn  once  more  will  disturb  his  peace. 

A  dumb  show.  Enter  King  TROOS  and  GANIMEDE, 
with  attendants.  To  him  SATURN  ,•  makes  suit  for 
aid;  shows  the  King  his  models,  his  inventions,  his 
several  metals ;  at  the  strangeness  of  which  King  TROOS 
is  moved,  calls  for  drum  and  colours,  and  marches  with 
SATURN. 

The  exil'd  Saturn  by  King  Troos  is  aided, 

Troos,  that  gave  Troy  her  name,  and  reign'd  as  king, 

Crete  by  the  help  of  Ganimede's  invaded, 

Even  at  that  time  when  Jove  should  succours  bring 

To  rescue  Danae ;  and  that  warlike  power 

Must  now  his  native  territories  guard, 

Which   should  have   brought    her  from   the   brazen 

tower ; 
For  to  that  end  his  forces  were  prepar'd. 

We  grow  now  towards  our  port  and  wished  bay. 

Gentles,  your  love,  and  Homer  cannot  stray. 

Enter  NEPTUNE  and  PLUTO. 

Nep.  Whence  are  these  warlike  preparations, 
Made  by  the  King,  our  brother  ? 
Pluto.  'Tis  given  out, 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  75 

To  conquer  Argos  ;  but  my  sister,  Juno, 
Suspects  some  amorous  purpose  in  the  King. 

Nep.  And  blame  her  not :   the  fair  Europa's  rape, 
Brought  from  Agenor,  and  the  Cadmain  rape ; 
lo,  the  daughter  of  old  Inachus, 
Deflower'd  by  him ;  the  lovely  Semele ; 
Fair  Leda,  daughter  to  King  Tyndarus, 
And  many  more,  may  breed  a  just  suspect. 
Nor  hath  he  spar'd  fair  Ceres,  queen  of  grain, 
Who  bare  to  him  the  bright  Proserpina. 
Such  scapes  may  breed  just  fears ;  and  what  knows  she 
But  these  are  to  surprise  fair  Danae. 

Sound.     Enter  JUPITEK,  ARCHAS,  with  drum  and 
Soldiers. 

Jup.  Arm,  royal  brothers  !     Crete's  too  small  an  isle 
To  comprehend  our  greatness :  we  must  add 
Argos  and  Greece  to  our  dominions ; 
And  all  the  petty  kingdoms  of  the  earth 
Shall  pay  their  homage  unto  Saturn's  son. 
This  day  we'll  take  a  muster  of  our  forces, 
And  forward  make  for  Argos. 

Arc.  All  Arcadia 
Assemble  to  this  purpose. 

Jup.  Then,  set  on. 
The  eagle  in  our  ensign  we'll  display. 
Jove  and  his  fortunes  guide  us  in  our  way. 

Enter  King  MELLISEUS. 

Mel.  Whether  intends  the  King  this  warlike  march  ? 

Jup.  For  Argos  and  Acrisius. 

Mel.  Rather  guard 

Your  native  confines.     See  upon  your  coast 
Saturn,  with  thirty  thousand  Trojans,  landed, 
And  in  his  aid  King  Troos,  and  Ganimede. 


76  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  V. 

Jup.  In  never  worse  time  could  the  tyrant  come 
Than  now,  to  break  my  faith  with  Danae. 
Oh,  beauteous  love !  I  fear  Acrisius'  ire 
Will  with  severest  censure  chastise  thee, 
And  thou  wilt  deem  me  faithless  and  unkind, 
For  promise  breach :  but  what  we  must  we  must. — 
Come,  valiant  lords,  Ave'll  first  our  own  defend, 
Ere  against  foreign  climes  our  arm  extend. 

Sound.  Enter,  with  drum  and  colours,  King  TROOS, 
SATURN,  GANIMEDE,  with  other  Lords  and  Atten- 
dants. 

Sat.  Degenerate  boys !  base  bastards,  not  my  sons, 
Behold,  the  death  we  threaten'd  in  your  cradles 
We  come  to  give  you  now.     See  here  King  Troos, 
In  pity  of  deposed  Saturn's  wrongs, 
Is  come  in  person  to  chastise  your  pride, 
And  be  the  heavens'  relentless  justicer. 

Jup.  Not  against  Saturn,  as  a  father,  we, 
But  as  a  murderer,  lift  our  opposite  hands. 
Nature  and  heaven  give  us  this  privilege, 
To  guard  our  lives  'gainst  tyrants  and  invaders. 
That  claim  we,  as  we're  men :  we  would  but  live ; 
Then,  take  not  from  us  what  you  cannot  give. 

Tro.  Where  hath   not    Saturn's  fame   abroad   been 

spread, 

For  many  uses  he  hath  given  to  man ; 
As  navigation,  tillage,  archery, 
Weapons,  and  gold  ?     Yet  you  for  all  these  uses 
Deprive  him  of  his  kingdom. 

Pluto,  We  but  save 
Our  innocent  bodies  from  th'  abortive  grave. 

Nep.  We  are  his  sons :  let  Saturn  be  content 
To  let  us  keep  what  heaven  and  nature  lent. 

Gan.  Those  filial  duties  you  so  much  forget 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  77 

We  come  to  teach  you. — Royal  Kings,  to  arms  ! 
Give  Ganimede  the  onset  of  this  battle, 
That,  being  a  son,  knows  how  to  lecture  them, 
And  chastise  their  transgressions. 

Sat.  Ganimede, 

It  shall  be  so :  pour  out  your  spleen  and  rage 
On  our  proud  issue :  let  the  thirsty  soil 
Of  barren  Crete  quaff  their  degenerate  bloods, 
And  surfeit  in  their  sins.     All  Saturn's  hopes 
And  fortunes  are  engag'd  upon  this  day. 
It  is  our  last,  and  all ;  be 't  our  endeavour 
To  win 't  for  aye,  or  else  to  lose  it  ever. 

\_Alarum.     The  battles  join :  the  Trojans  are 
repulsed. 

Enter  TROOS  and  SATURN. 

Tro.  Our  Trojans  are  repuls'd.    Where's  Ganimede? 

Sat.  Amidst  the  throng  of  weapons,  acting  wonders. 
Twice  did  I  call  aloud  to  have  him  fly, 
And  twice  he  swore  he  had  vow'd  this  day  to  die. 

Tro.  Let's  make  up  to  his  rescue. 

Sat.  Tush  !  'tis  vain : 

To  seek  to  save  him  we  shall  lose  ourselves. 
The  day  is  lost,  and  Ganimede  lost  too, 
Without  divine  assistance.     Hie,  my  lord, 
Unto  your  ships :  no  safety  lives  a-land  : 
Even  to  the  ocean's  margin  we're  pursued ; 
Then,  save  yourself  by  sea. 

Tro.  Crete,  thou  hast  won 
My  thirty  thousand  soldiers  and  my  son. 
Come :  let's  to  sea.  [Exit, 

Sat.  To  sea  must  Saturn,  too, 
To  whom  all  good  stars  still  are  opposite. 
My  crown  I  first  bought  with  my  infants'  blood, 
Not  long  enjoy'd  till  Titan  wrested  it ; 


78  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  V. 

Re-purchas'd  and  re-lost  by  Jupiter. 

These  horrid  mischiefs,  that  have  crown'd  our  brows, 

Have  bred  in  us  such  strange  distemperature, 

That  we  are  grown  dejected  and  forlorn. 

Our  blood  is  chang'd  to  ink,  our  hairs  to  quills, 

Our  eyes  half  buried  in  our  quechy  plots. 

Consumptions  and  cold  agues  have  devoured 

And  eat  up  all  our  flesh,  leaving  behind 

Naught  but  the  image  of  despair  and  death ; 

And  Saturn  shall  to  after  ages  be 

That  star  that  shall  infuse  dull  melancholy. 

To  Italy  I'll  fly,  and  there  abide 

Till  divine  powers  may  place  above  provide.          [Exit. 

Alarum.  Enter  GANIMEDE,  compassed  in  with  Soldiers. 
To  them  JUPITER,  NEPTUNE,  PLUTO,  ARCHAS, 
MELLISEUS. 

Jup.  Yield,  noble  Trojan.     There's  not  in  the  field 
One  of  thy  nation  lifts  a  hand  to  save  thee. 

Gan.  Why,  that's  my  honour,  when  alone  I  stand 
'Gainst  thee  and  all  the  forces  of  thy  land. 

Jup.  I  love  thy  valour,  and  would  woo  thy  friend- 
ship. 
Go  freely  where  thou  wilt,  and  ransomless. 

Gan.  Why,  that's  no  gift :  I  am  no  prisoner, 
And  therefore  owe  no  ransom,  having  breath. 
Know,  I  have  vow'd  to  yield  to  none,  save  death. 

Jup.  I  wish  thee  nobly,  Trojan ;   and  since  favour 
Cannot  attain  thy  love,  I'll  try  conclusions, 
And  see  if  I  can  purchase  it  with  blows. 

Gan.  Now  speak'st  thou  like  the  noblest  of  my  foes. 

Jup.   Stand  all  apart ;  and,  princes,  gird  us  round. 

Gan.  I  love  him  best  whose  blows  can  loudest  sound. 
[Alarum.     They  fight ;  and  losing  their 
weapons,  embrace. 


SCENE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  79 

Jup.  I  have  thee,  and  will  keep  thee. 

Gan.  Not  as  a  prisoner. 

Jup.  A  prisoner  to  my  love ;  else,  thou  art  free. 
My  bosom  friend ;  for  so  I  honour  thee. 

Gan.  I  am  conquer'd  both  by  arms  and  courtesy. 

Nep.  The  day  is  ours.    Troos  and  King  Saturn's  fled, 
And  Jupiter  remains  sole  conqueror. 

Pluto.  Peace,  with  her  golden  wings,  hover  o'er  Crete, 
Frighting  hence  discord  and  remorseless  war. 
Will  Jupiter  make  up  for  Argos  now  ? 

Mel.  Winter  draws  on,  the  sea's  unnavigable 
To  transport  an  army.  There  attends  without 
A  Lord  of  Argos. 

Jup.  Bring  him  to  our  presence. — 

Enter  a  Lord  of  Argos. 

How  stands  it  with  the  beauteous  Danae  ? 

Arg.  L.  As  one  distress'd  by  fate,  and  miserable. 
Of  King  Acrisius,  and  his  fort  of  brass, 
Danae's  enclosure,  and  her  beldam  guard, 
Who  hath  not  heard  ?     Yet  through  these  brazen  walls 
Love  hath  broke  in,  and  made  the  maid  a  mother 
Of  a  fair  son  ;  which  when  Acrisius  heard, 
Her  female  guard  unto  the  fire  he  dooms. 
His  daughter,  and  the  infant  prince,  her  son, 
He  puts  into  a  mastless  boat  to  sea, 
To  prove  the  rigour  of  the  stormy  waves. 

Jup.  Acrisius,  Argos,  and  the  world  shall  know 
Jove  hath  been  wrong'd  in  this.     Her  farther  fortunes 
Canst  thou  relate  ? 

Arg.  L.  I  can.     As  far  as  Naples 
The  friendly  wind  her  mastless  boat  transports : 
There,  succour'd  by  a  courteous  fisherman, 
She's  first  reliev'd,  and  after  that  presented 
To  King  Pelonnus,  who  at  this  time  reigns ; 


80  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  V. 

Who,  ravish'd  with  her  beauty,  crowns  her  Queen, 
And  decks  her  with  th'  imperial  robes  of  state. 

Jup.  What  we  have  scanted  is  supplied  by  fate. 
Here,  then,  cease  arms ;  and  now  court  amorous  peace 
With  solemn  triumphs. — And,  dear  Ganimede, 
Be  henceforth  call'd  the  friend  of  Jupiter : 
And  if  the  fates  hereafter  crown  our  brows 
With  divine  honours,  as  we  hope  they  shall, 
We'll  style  thee  by  the  name  of  Cup-bearer, 
To  fill  us  heavenly  nectar,  as  fair  Hebe 
Shall  do  the  like  to  Juno,  our  bright  Queen. 
Here  end  the  pride  of  our  mortality : 
Opinion,  that  makes  gods,  must  style  us  higher. 
The  next  you  see  us  we  in  state  must  shine, 
Eternized  with  honours  more  divine.        \_Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  HOMER. 

Homer.  Of  Danae  Perseus  was  that  night  begot ; 
Perseus,  that  fought  with  the  Gorgonian  shield, 
Whose  fortunes  to  pursue  time  suffers  not : 
For  that  we  have  prepar'd  an  ampler  field. 
Likewise  how  Jove  with  fair  Alcmena  lay ; 
Of  Hercules,  and  of  his  famous  deeds : 
How  Pluto  did  fair  Proserpine  betray. 
Of  these  my  Muse,  now  travail'd,  next  proceeds. 
Yet,  to  keep  promise,  ere  we  farther  wade, 
The  ground  of  ancient  poems  you  shall  see, 
And  how  these  (first  born  mortal)  gods  were  made, 
By  virtue  of  divinest  poesy. 

The  Fates,  to  whom  the  heathens  yield  all  power, 
Whose  dooms  are  writ  in  marble,  to  endure, 
Have  summon'd  Saturn's  three  sons  to  their  tower, 
To  them  the  three  dominions  to  assure 
Of  Heaven,  of  Sea,  of  Hell.     How  these  are  scann'd 
Let  none  decide,  but  such  as  understand. 


SCKNE  I.  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  81 

Sound :  a  dumb  show.  Enter  the  three  Fatal  Sisters,  with 
a  rock3  a  thread,  and  a  pair  of  shears ;  bringing  in  a 
globe,  in  which  they  put  three  lots.  JUPITER  draws 
Heaven ;  at  which  IRIS  descends,  and  presents  him 
with  his  eagle,  crown  and  sceptre,  and  his  thunderbolt. 
JUPITER  first  ascends  upon  the  eagle,  and  after  him 
GANIMEDE. 

To  Jupiter  doth  high  Olympus  fall, 

Who  thunder  and  the  trisulc  lightning  bears, 

Dreaded  of  all  the  rest  in  general : 

He  on  a  princely  eagle  mounts  the  spheres. 

Sound.  NEPTUNE  draws  the  Sea,  is  mounted  upon  a 
sea-horse :  a  robe  and  trident,  with  a  crown,  are  given 
him  by  the  Fates. 

Neptune  is  made  the  lord  of  all  the  seas, 
His  mace  a  trident,  and  his  habit  blue : 
He  can  make  tempests,  and  the  waves  appease, 
And  unto  him  the  seamen  are  still  true. 

Sound.  Thunder  and  tempest.  Enter,  at  four  several 
corners,  the  four  Winds.  NEPTUNE  riseth  disturbed. 
The  Fates  bring  the  four  Winds  in  a  chain,  and  present 
them  to  ^EoLUS  as  their  King. 

And  for  the  Winds,  these  brothers  that  still  war, 
Should  not  disturb  the  empire,  the  three  Fates 
Bring  them  to  ^Eolus,  chain'd  as  they  are, 
To  be  enclos'd  in  caves  with  brazen  gates. 

Sound.  PLUTO  draws  Hell :  the  Fates  put  upon  him  a 
burning  robe,  and  present  him  with  a  mace,  and  burning 
crown. 

Pluto's  made  Emperor  of  the  ghosts  below, 
Where  with  his  black  guard  he  in  darkness  reigns, 

G 


82  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  ACT  V. 

Commanding  Hell,  where  Styx  and  Lethe  flow, 
And  murderers  are  hang'd  in  burning  chains. 
But,  leaving  these,  to  your  judicial  spirits 
I  must  appeal,  and  to  your  wonted  grace, 
To  know  from  you  what  eyeless  Homer  merits, 
Whom  you  have  power  to  banish  from  this  place  ; 
But  if  you  send  me  hence  uncheck'd  with  fear, 
Once  more  I'll  dare  upon  this  stage  t'  appear. 


FINIS. 


NOTES 

TO 

THE    GOLDEN     AGE. 


Page  6,  line  8,  [Exit.]  This  stage -direction  is  wanting  in  the  old 
copy,  as  we  cannot  suppose  that  Homer  stood  by  the  whole  time  the 
scenes  he  introduces  were  acting.  In  the  beginning  of  subsequent  acts 
it  will  be  seen  that  he  was  necessarily  present  while  the  dumb  shows  were 
represented,  because  he  comments  upon  them. 

Page  10,  line  5,  \Exeunt.~\  It  may  be  enough  to  state  here,  once  for 
all,  that  when  a  necessary  marginal  stage-direction  is  not  found  in  the 
old  copy,  we  have  inserted  it  between  brackets.  If  there  be  only  one 
bracket,  that  stage  direction  was  supplied  by  the  author,  or  by  the  old 
printer. 

Page  12,  line  20,  To  make  your  crares  and  other  barks.]  Respecting 
"  crare,"  which  means  a  small  craft  of  burden,  see  "  Cymbeline,"  act  iv., 
sc.  2:  edit.  Collier,  viii.,  220. 

Page  13,  line  15,  Enter  a  Lord.]  The  entrance  of  this  lord  from  Del- 
phos  is  not  marked  in  the  old  copy. 

Page  14,  line  17,  Deprive  me.]  i.e.,  take  away  from  me.  "Deprive" 
is  used  in  this  sense  by  many  other  authors  of  the  time.  In  "  Hamlet," 
act  i.,  sc.  4,  we  have — 

"  Which  might  deprive  your  sovereignty  of  reason." 
But  in  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  "  Maid  in  the  Mill,"  act  iv.,  sc.  3,  is  a 
line  of  a  similar  construction  to  that  in  our  text — 

"  But  hung  at  the  ear,  deprives  our  own  sight." 
So  in  "  King  Lear,"  act  i.,  sc.  2 — 

"  The  curiosity  of  nations  to  deprive  me." 
And  again,  act  iv.,  sc.  2 — 

"  Is  wretchedness  deprived  that  benefit  ?" 

In  act  v.  of  this  play  Heywood  uses  the  word  "  deprive"  in  the  ordinary 
way,  as  in  the  above  passage  from . "  Hamlet." 

G  2 


84  NOTES  TO  THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 

Page  16,  line  26,  Enter  Sibylla,  lying  in  child-bed,  &c.]  Saturn  and 
all  his  followers  go  out,  and  then  the  scene,  in  the  simplicity  of  our  early 
stage,  is  supposed  to  represent  Sibylla's  chamber,  a  bed,  no  doubt,  with 
the  mother  in  it,  having  been  thrust  upon  the  stage  for  the  purpose.  So 
in  "A  Woman  Killed  with  Kindness,"  (p.  160  of  our  edition)  we  have, 
" Enter  Mrs.  Frankford,  in  her  bed"  Near  the  end  of  act  iv.  of  the 
play  before  us  occurs  a  curious  and  apposite  stage-direction,  where  the 
four  Beldams  draw  Danae,  in  her  bed,  upon  the  stage,  and  afterwards 
leave  her,  as  if  she  were  in  her  chamber.  The  bed  is  afterwards  with- 
drawn, with  Jupiter  and  Danae  in  it. 

Page  17,  line  22,  How  looks  she,  Nurse  ?]  In  the  old  copy  this,  and 
the  six  next  lines,  owing  to  the  omission  of  the  prefix,  are  made  part  of 
the  speech  of  the  Nurse. 

Page  18,  line  17.  The  necessary  exit  of  the  First  Lord  is  not  marked  in 
the  original. 

Page  19,  line  32,  And  counterfeit  sorrow  shadow  it.]  This  line  is 
evidently  defective,  and  the  author  probably  wrote,  "  And  counterfeited 
sorrow  shadow  it ;"  but,  of  course,  we  have  not  taken  the  liberty  to  alter 
the  text,  when  the  meaning  is  clear  as  it  stands.  The  error  was  most 
likely  that  of  the  printer. 

Page  21,  line  13,  Lend  me  your  hands  to  guide  me  on  the  way.]  "  On 
your  way,  in  the  original  edition ;  but  the  change  to  "  the  way,"  or  "  my 
way,"  was  necessary. 

Page  23,  line  19,  Jupiter  seizeth  the  room  of  Lycaon.]  That  is,  the 
place  Lycaon  had  left  vacant.  Of  old,  this  was  a  very  common  applica- 
tion of  the  word  "  room." 

Page  23,  line  22,  Confind  him  hence.]  i.e.,  driven  him  from  these  con- 
fines. 

Page  28,  line  7,  Enter,  with  music  before,  Diana  and  Calisto."]  Calisto 
is  not  mentioned  at  the  beginning  of  this  scene  in  the  old  copy,  but,  as 
will  be  observed  hereafter,  it  was  necessary  to  name  her,  and  we  may 
suppose  her  to  enter  with  Diana. 

Page  30,  line  17,  Or  a  virago.]  A  virago,  in  the  time  of  Hey  wood 
and  earlier,  was  a  term  used  to  denote  a  masculine-looking  woman :  it 
now  generally  means  a  woman  who  brings  her  masculine  qualities  into 
action. 

Page  30,  line  27, 1  may  pass  for  a  bona  roba,  a  rounceval.]  A  bona 
roba  was  a  very  common  term  for  a  woman  of  the  town.  A  rounceval 
must  have  meant  a  sort  of  female  warrior ;  perhaps  from  Roncesvalles, 
where  Orlando  was  defeated  and  killed.  Coles  makes  rounceval  equiva- 
lent to  virago. 


NOTES  TO  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  85 

Page  31,  line  34,  Aside.]  This  is  one  of  the  few  instances,  in  the  early 
copies  of  old  plays,  of  a  stage-direction  being  inserted  in  the  margin  to 
point  out  what  was  to  be  heard  by  the  audience,  but  not  by  the  characters 
engaged  in  the  performance.  Other  short  speeches  by  Jupiter  in  the 
scene  must  also  have  been  spoken  aside. 

Page  32,  line  3,  Well,  proceed.]  These  words  are  inserted  in  paren- 
thesis and  in  Italic  type  in  the  old  copy,  as  if  a  stage-direction ;  but  they 
are  evidently  part  of  what  Jupiter  says  aloud,  after  a  speech  aside. 

Page  32,  line  4,  With  hated  man  atone.']  i.e.,  agree,  or  be  at  one  with 
him. 

Page  38,  line  7,  Posh  and  kill.]     Shakespeare,  "  Winter's  Tale,"  act  i., 
sc.  2,  uses  "pash,"  as  a  substantive,  for  the  head;  but  the  verb  to  push 
means  to  strike  down  and  break  to  pieces,  and  in  this  sense  it  occurs  in 
many  authors  of  Hey  wood's  time.     Thus  Marlowe,  in  his   "Tambur- 
laine,"  Part  I.,  act  iii.,  sc.  3,  edit.  Dyce,  i.,  65,  has  these  lines — 
"  Zabina,  mother  of  three  braver  boys 
Than  Hercules,  that  in  his  infancy 
Did  pash  the  jaws  of  serpents  venomous." 
Other  authorities  might  be  quoted  to  the  same  effect,  but  they  are  needless. 

Page  38,  line  15,  Your  bodies  still.]  i.e.,  distil. 

Page  42,  line  10,  This  gigantomachia  be  eternized.]  This  gigoman- 
tichia,  &c.,  in  the  old  copy. 

Page  42,  line  25,  With  Lords  of  the  Court.]  The  old  stage-direction 
has,  "  with  other  Lords  of  the  Court ;"  but  none  have  been  previously 
mentioned. 

Page  43,  line  35,  On  thee  the  basis  of  my  hopes  I  erect.]  So  in  the 
original ;  but  perhaps  the  poet  wrote  rest  for  "  erect,"  since  it  suits  the 
measure  better,  and  the  sense  at  least  as  well. 

Page  44,  line  7,  Hyperion  and  JEgeon,  with  the  rest.]  Here  we  see 
Heywood,  though  well  read,  pronouncing  Hyperion,  as  repeatedly  by 
Shakespeare.  Better  scholars  than  either  did  the  same. 

Page  46,  line  23,  He  reads.]  "They  read,"  in  the  old  copy;  but  it 
is  clear  that  Melliseus  did  not  read,  and  that  the  Clown  did  not  overlook. 

Page  47,  line  33,  I  have  done  my  message  so  cleanly,  that  they  cannot 
say  the  messenger  is  bereaved,  &c.]  Perhaps  we  ought  to  read  berayed, 
in  the  old  sense  of  the  word,  instead  of  "bereaved." 

Page  49,  line  16,  Hyperion,  d*  on  your  arms.]  So  etymological ly 
printed  in  the  old  copy ;  but  generally  do  on  is  reduced  to  one  word,  don, 
without  any  apostrophe.  Instances  almost  numberless  might  be  cited. 
In  the  same  way,  doff"  is  d1  off,  or  do  off. 


86  NOTES  TO  THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 

Page  50,  line  7,  Of  Greta's  crown.]  The  old  printer  usually  spelt 
Crete,  Greet,  because  Heywood  uses  it  commonly  as  a  monosyllable. 

Page  53,  line  12,  Let  all  the  deities.~\  The  old  copy  has  raryeties, 
which  is  nonsense :  "  the  deities "  may  be  the  true  reading,  and  it  suits 
the  metre  of  the  line. 

Page  53,  line  21,  Corsive,  worse  than  the  throes  of  child-birth.]  i.e., 
corrosive,  as  in  "  The  Thracian  Wonder,"  act  i.,  sc.  2 — 

"  Think  what  a  corsive  it  would  prove  to  me." 
It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  authorities. 

Page  56,  line  26,  But  we  can  charm  with  courtship.]  This  and  the 
previous  part  of  the  speech  we  must  suppose  spoken  aside ;  but  there  is 
no  stage-direction  to  that  effect.  It  is  not  likely  that  Jupiter  would 
make  such  open  declarations  of  infidelity  to  his  wife :  the  same  remark 
will  apply  to  several  of  Jupiter's  subsequent  speeches,  parts  of  which 
only  were  intended  to  be  heard. 

Page  59,  line  22,  Enter  Danae  and  Beldam.']  Neither  the  exit  of  the 
Beldam,  to  fetch  Danae,  nor  her  return  with  the  Princess,  are  mentioned 
in  the  old  copy,  but  the  insertion  of  both  is  necessary. 

Page  62,  line  23,  As  I  can  bear  a  pack,  so  /  can  bear  a  brainJ]  "  To 
bear  a  brain"  was  a  proverbial  expression.  It  appears  by  Henslowe's 
Diary,  p.  155,  that  Dekker  wrote  a  play  in  1599,  with  the  title  of  "Bear 
a  Brain." 

Page  63,  line  1,  Enter  the  four  Beldams.]  Their  two  first  speeches 
are  heard  before  they  open  the  gate,  and  come  upon  the  stage. 

Page  64,  line  21,  Looking  upon  their  several  jewels.]  The  old  copy 
has,  "looking  upon  three  several  jewels;"  but  it  must  be  a  misprint,  as 
Jupiter  has,  at  all  events,  given  them  four  several  jewels — one  to  each. 

Page  66,  line  1 3,  Sweet,  your  ear.]  These  words  are  printed  in  Italic, 
and  as  a  stage-direction,  in  the  old  copy,  but  there  can  be  no  question 
that  they  are  part  of  the  text. 

Page  66,  line  28,  I  never  see  of  these  afore.]  It  seems  likely  that  the 
author  meant  to  make  the  old  woman  speak  bad  English,  and  we  have 
therefore  left  the  text  as  we  find  it. 

Page  67,  line  11,  With  any  save  Danae.]  In  the  original,  this  is  in 
parenthesis,  to  indicate  probably  that  it  was  to  be  spoken  aside,  and  not  to 
be  heard  by  the  Princess. 

Page  71,  line  32,  And  makes  unready."]  i.e.,  undresses  himself:  "to 
make  ready"  was  formerly  the  commonest  phrase  for  dressing. 

Page  73,  line  16,  Enter  the  Clown.]  Omitted  in  the  old  copy,  but 
necessary,  as  the  Clown  must  have  gone  out  after  his  last  speech,  in  order 
to  leave  the  stage  free  for  Jupiter  and  Danae. 


NOTES  TO  THE  GOLDEN  AGE.  87 

Page  73,  line  32,  Farewell,  good  Minevers.]  Possibly  the  Beldams 
wore  minever,  a  species  of  fur,  on  their  dresses ;  or  perhaps  the  Clown 
calls  them  after  the  name  of  a  well-known  character. 

Page  75,  line  7,  Fair  Leda,  daughter  of  King  Tyndarus.]  She  was  the 
wife  of  Tyndarus,  and  daughter  of  Thespius.  Heywood  is  elsewhere  not 
always  quite  correct  in  his  mythology. 

Page  76,  line  17,  And  be  the  heavens'  relentless  justicerJ]  The  ordi- 
nary word  for  justice,  or  judge.  See  "  King  Lear,"  ed.  Collier,  vii.,  433 
and  449. 

Page  78,  line  6,  in  our  quechy  plots.]  Quechy,  or  queachy,  which 
may  have  some  relation  to  queasy,  is  an  old  word  for  wet,  marshy, 
swampy. 

Page  78,  line  11,  That  star  that  shall  infuse  dull  melancholy.]  Hey- 
wood here  repeats  himself;  for  on  page  16  he  has  already  made  Saturn 
say — 

"  Saturn's  disturbance  to  the  world  shall  be 
That  planet  that  infuseth  melancholy." 

Page  79,  line  15,  Enter  a  Lord  of  Argos.]  The  stage-direction  only 
is,  "Enter  Arges ;"  but  in  the  prefixes  he  is  called  "  Arg.  L.,"  meaning 
Argos  Lord.  We  must  suppose  that  on  the  command  of  Jupiter,  "  Bring 
him  to  our  presence,"  an  attendant,  or  officer,  makes  his  exit,  and  returns 
with  the  Lord  of  Argos.  It  was  hardly  necessary  to  detail  this  in  the 
stage-directions,  as  the  business  was  sufficiently  intelligible. 

Page  79,  line  34,  To  King  Pelonnus.]  The  name  of  the  King  seems 
to  have  been  Polydectes. 


THE 

SILVER    AGE, 


INCLUDING 


The  loue  of  lupiter  to  Alcmena 
The  birth  of  Hercules, 

AND 

THE  RAPE  OF  PROSERPINE. 

CONCLUDING 

With  the  Arraignment  of  the  Moone. 

Written  by  THOMAS  HEYWOOD. 

Aut  prodesse  solent  ant  delectare. 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  Nicholas  Okes,  and  are  to  be  sold  by 

Beniamin  Lightfoote  at  his  Shop  at  the  vpper 

end  of  Graies  Inne-lane  in  Holborne. 

1613. 


To  the  Reader. 

Let  not  the  title  of  this  book,  I  entreat,  be  any  weakening 
of  his  worth  in  the  general  opinion.  Though  we  began  with 
Gold,  follow  with  Silver,  proceed  with  Brass,  and  purpose, 
by  God's  grace,  to  end  with  Iron,  I  hope  the  declining  titles 
shall  no  whit  blemish  the  reputation  of  the  works ;  but  rather 
trust,  that  as  those  metals  decrease  in  value,  so,  £  contrario, 
their  books  shall  increase  in  substance,  weight,  and  estimation. 
In  this  we  have  given  Hercules  birth  and  life :  in  the  next 
we  shall  lend  him  honour  and  death.  Courteous  Reader,  it 
hath  been  my  serious  labour ;  it  now  only  attends  thy 
charitable  censure. 

Thine, 

T.  H. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 


HOMER. 


ACRISIUS. 

PRETUS. 

BELLE  ROPHON. 

PERSEUS. 

DANAUS. 

JUPITER. 

GANIMEDE. 

AMPHITRIO. 

SOCIA. 

EURISTEUS. 

HERCULES. 

THESEUS. 

PERITHOUS. 

PHILOCTETES. 

MERCURY. 

TRITON. 

PLUTO. 

CERBERUS. 

RHADAMANTHUS. 

ASCULAPHUS. 


QUEEN  AUREA. 

ANDROMEDA. 

ALCMENA. 

JUNO. 

IRIS. 

GALANTIS. 

HIPPODAMIA. 

CERES. 

PROSERPINE. 

SEMELE. 

TELLUS. 

ARETHUSA. 

A  Guard. 

Two  Captains. 

Six  Centaurs. 

Servingmen. 

Swains. 

Theban  Ladies. 

The  Seven  Planets. 

Furies. 


THE    SILVER   AGE. 


ACTUS  I.     SC^ENA  I. 
Enter  HOMER. 

Since  modern  authors  modern  things  have  trac'd, 

Searching  our  Chronicles  from  end  to  end, 

And  all  known  histories  have  long  been  grac'd, 

Bootless  it  were  on  them  our  time  to  spend : 

To  iterate  tales  oftentimes  told  o'er, 

Or  subjects  handled  by  each  common  pen, 

In  which  even  they  that  can  but  read  (no  more) 

Can  point  before  we  speak  how,  where,  and  when, 

We  have  no  purpose.     Homer,  old  and  blind, 

Of  eld,  by  the  best  judgments,  term'd  divine, 

That  in  his  former  labours  found  you  kind, 

Is  come  the  ruder  censures  to  refine, 

And  to  unlock  the  casket,  long  time  shut, 

Of  which  none  but  the  learned  keep  the  key, 

Where  the  rich  jewel  (poesy)  was  put, 

She  that  first  search'd  the  heavens,  earth,  air,  and  sea. 

We,  therefore,  beg  that,  since  so  many  eyes 

And  several  judging  wits  must  taste  our  style, 

The  learn'd  will  grace,  the  ruder  not  despise, 

Since  what  we  do  we  for  their  use  compile. 

Why  should  not  Homer,  he  that  taught  in  Greece, 

Unto  this  judging  nation  lend  like  skill, 

And  into  England  bring  that  golden  fleece 


94  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  I. 

For  which  his  country  is  renowned  still? 

The  Golden  past,  the  Silver  Age  begins 

In  Jupiter,  whose  son,  of  Danae  born, 

We  first  present ;  and  how  Acrisius'  sins 

Were  punish'd  for  his  cruelty  and  scorn. 
We  enter  where  we  left,  and  so  proceed. — 
Your  favour  still ;  for  that  must  help  at  need. 

Alarum.  Enter,  with  victory,  King  PRETUS,  BELLE- 
ROPHON  bringing  in  King  ACRISIUS  prisoner:  drum 
and  colours. 

Pret.  Now,  you  that  trusted  to  your  Darreine  strength, 
The  brazen  tower  that  erst  enclos'd  your  child, 
Stand'st  at  our  grace  a  captive ;  and  we  now 
Are  Argos'  king,  where  thou  usurp'd  so  late. 

Acr.  'Tis  not  thy  power,  King  Pretus,  but  our  rigour 
Against  my  daughter  and  the  prince  her  son, 
Thus  punish'd  by  the  heavens,  have  made  thee  victor. 

Pret.  'Twas  by  thy  valour,  brave  Bellerophon, 
That  took'st  Acrisius  prisoner,  hand  to  hand. 

Seller.  The  duty  of  a  service,  and  a  servant, 
I  have  express'd  to  Pretus. 

Pret.  By  thy  valour 

We  reign  sole  King  of  Argos,  where  our  brother 
Hath  tyranniz'd.     And  now  these  brazen  walls, 
Built  to  immure  a  fair  and  innocent  maid, 
Shall  be  thine  own  jail. — Give  his  legs  the  irons, 
Till  we  determine  farther  of  his  death. 

Acr.  Oh,  Danae!  when  I,  rude  and  pitiless, 
Threw  thee,  with  thy  young  infant,  to  the  mercy 
Of  the  rough  billows  in  a  mastless  boat, 
I  then  incurr'd  this  vengeance.     Jupiter, 
Whose  father  in  those  blest  and  happy  days 
I  scorn'd  to  be,  or  rank  him  in  my  line, 
Hath  chastis'd  me  for  my  harsh  cruelty. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ,% 

Pret.  We  are  Jove's  rod,  and  we  will  execute 
The  doom  of  heaven  with  all  severity. 
Such  mercy  as  thy  guardian  Beldams  had, 
Who  for  the  love  of  Danae  felt  the  fire, 
Thou  shalt  receive  from  us. — Away  with  him  ! 

[AcEisius  is  led  bound. 

Enter  Queen  AUREA. 

Aur.  Why  doth  King  Pretus  lead  his  brother  bound, 
And  keep  a  greater  foe  in  liberty  ? 
This,  this,  thou  most  unchaste  Bellerophon ! 
And  canst  thou  blushless  gaze  me  in  the  face, 
Whom  thou  so  lately  did'st  attempt  to  force  ? 
Or  front  the  prince,  thy  master,  with  such  impudence, 
Whose  reverend  bed  thou  hast  practis'd  to  defile  ? 

Seller.  Madam ! — My  lord ! 

Aur.  Hear  not  th'  adulterer's  tongue  ; 
Who,  though  he  had  not  power  to  charm  mine  ears, 
Yet  may  enchant  thine. 

Pret.  Beauteous  Aurea, 

If  thou  can  prove  by  witness  that  rude  practice, 
His  life  and  tortures  I'll  commit  to  thee. 

Aur.  What   greater   witness   than    Queen    Aurea's 

tears  ? 

Or  why  should  I  hate  you,  Bellerophon, 
That,  save  this  practice,  never  did  me  wrong  ? 

Seller.  Oh,  woman !  when  thou  art  given  up  to  sin 
And  shameless  lusts,  what  brazen  impudence 
Hardens  thy  brow  ! 

Aur.  Shall  I  have  right  of  him? 

Pret.  Thou  shalt.     Yet  let  me  tell  my  Aurea, 
This  knight  hath  serv'd  me  from  his  infancy, 
Been  partner  of  my  breast,  and  secret  thoughts ; 
His  sword  hath  been  the  guardian  of  my  state, 
And  by  the  virtue  of  his  strong  right  hand 


96  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  I. 

I  am  possess'd  of  Argos.     I  could  read  thee 

A  chronicle  of  his  great  services 

Fresh  in  my  thoughts :  then,  give  me  leave  to  pause, 

Ere  I  pronounce  sad  sentence  of  his  death. 

Aur.  Grant  me,  my  lord,  but  a  few  private  words 
With  this  dissembling  hypocrite :  I'll  tell  him 
Such  instance  of  his  heinous  enterprise, 
Shall  make  him  blush,  and  with  effeminate  tears 
Publish  his  riotous  wrongs  against  your  bed. 

Pret.  We  grant  you  privacy. 

Aur.  Near  us,  Bellerophon. 

Seller.  Oh,  woman  !  woman  ! 

Aur.  We  are  alone.     Yet  wilt  thou  grant  me  love  ? 
Put  me  in  hope,  and  say  the  time  may  come, 
And  my  excuse  to  Pretus  shall  unsay 
These  loud  exclaims,  and  blanch  this  Ethiop  scandal 
As  white  as  is  thy  native  innocence. 
Love  me,  oh !  love  me,  my  Bellerophon : 
I  sigh  for  thee !  I  mourn,  I  die  for  thee ! 
Give  me  an  answer  swift  and  peremptory ; 
Gain  by  thy  grant  life,  thy  denial  death. 
Wilt  thou  take  time,  and  limit  me  some  hope 
By  'pointing  me  an  hour? 

Better.  Never,  oh !  never. 
First  shall  the  sun-god  in  the  ocean  quench 
The  day's  bright  fire,  and  o'er  the  face  of  heaven 
Spread  everlasting  darkness. 

Aur.  Say  no  more. — 

Dog  !  devil !  even  before  my  husband's  face 
Dar'st  court  me  ? — Pretus,  canst  thou  suffer  this  ? — 
Injurious  traitor,  think'st  thou  my  chaste  innocence 
Is  to  be  mov'd  with  prayers,  or  brib'd  by  promises  ? 
Hath  the  King  hir'd  thee  to  corrupt  his  bed, 
Or  is  he  of  that  slavish  sufferance, 
Before  his  face  to  see  me  strumpeted  ? 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  97 

Pretus,  by  heaven  and  all  the  gods  I  vow 
To  abjure  thy  presence  and  confine  myself 
To  lasting  widowhood,  unless  with  rigour 
Thou  chastise  this  false  groom. 

Pret.  Bellerophon, 

Thou  hast  presum'd  too  much  upon  our  love, 
And  made  too  slight  account  of  our  high  power, 
In  which  thy  life  or  death  is  circumscribed. 

Better.  My  lord,  I  should  transgress  a  subject's  duty 
To  lay  the  least  gross  imputation 
Upon  the  Queen,  my  beauteous  sovereigntess ; 
And  rather  than  to  question  her  chaste  virtues, 
I  lay  myself  ope  to  the  strictest  doom. 
My  service  hath  been  yours ;  so  shall  my  life  : 
I  yield  it  to  you  freely. 

Pret.  A  urea's  tears 
Contend  with  thy  supposed  innocence, 
And  have  the  upper  hand.     To  see  thee  die 
My  settled  love  will  not  endure ;  but  worse 
Than  death  can  be  we  doom  thy  insolence. 
Go  hence  an  exile ;  and  return  no  more 
Upon  thy  knighthood,  but  expose  thyself 
Unto  that  monstrous  beast  of  Sicily, 
Call'd  the  Chimaera  :  it  hath  a  lion's  head, 
Goat's  belly,  and  a  poisonous  dragon's  train. 
Fight  with  that  beast,  whom  hosts  cannot  withstand, 
And  feed  what  armies  cannot  satisfy. 
My  doom's  irrevocable. 

Belter.  For  all  my  service 
A  fair  reward !     But  by  my  innocence, 
Virtues,  and  all  my  honour's  attributes, 
That  savage  monster  I  will  feed  or  foil ; 
Die  by  his  jaws,  or  bring  home  honour'd  spoil. 

A  ur.  Yet,  yet  thy  body  meeds  a  better  grave ; 
And  kill  not  me,  too,  whom  thy  grant  may  save  ! 

H 


98  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  I. 

Seller.  A  thousand  fierce  Chimaeras  first  I'll  feed, 
Ere  stain  mine  honour  with  that  damned  deed. 

Aur.  Again  to  tempt  me !  hence,  base  traitor;  fly, 
And,  as  thy  guilt's  meed,  by  that  monster  die. 

Pret.  Away  with  him  !     'Tis  our  mild  sufferance 
Begets  this  impudence. — Come,  beauteous  Aurea, 
Thou  shalt  be  full  reveng'd.     I  know  him  honourable 
In  this,  and  will  perform  that  enterprise 
Which  in  one  death  brings  many.     Let  us  now 
Enjoy  our  conquests :  he  shall  soon  be  dead 
That  with  base  sleights  sought  to  corrupt  our  bed. 

\_Exeunt.~\ 

Enter  PERSEUS,  ANDROMEDA,  and  DANAUS. 

Pers.  There  stay,  our  swift  and  winged  Pegasus, 
And  on  the  flowers  of  this  fair  meadow  graze. 
Thou  that  first  flew'st  out  of  the  Gorgon's  blood, 
Whose  head  we,  by  Minerva's  aid,  pared  off, 
And  since  have  fix'd  it  on  our  crystal  shield : 
This  head,  that  had  the  power  to  change  to  stone 
All  that  durst  gaze  upon  't ;  and,  being  plac'd  here, 
Retains  that  power  to  whom  it  is  uncased, 
Hath  chang'd  great  Atlas  to  a  mount,  so  high, 
That  with  his  shoulders  he  supports  the  sky. 

Dan.  Perseus,  great  son  of  Jove  and  Danae, 
Famous  for  your  achievements  through  the  world, 
Minerva's  favourite,  goddess  of  wisdom, 
And  husband  to  the  sweet  Andromeda, 
Whom  you  so  late  from  the  sea-monster  freed, 
After  so  many  deeds  of  fame  and  honour, 
Shall  we  return  to  see  our  mother  Danae  ? 

Pers.  Dear  brother  Danaus,  the  renowned  issue 
Of  King  Pellonus,  that  in  Naples  reigns, 
Where  beauteous  Danae  is  created  queen, 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE. 

Thither  I'll  bear  the  fair  Andromeda, 
To  see  our  princely  mother. 

Andro.  Royal  Perseus, 
Truly  descended  from  the  line  of  gods, 
Since,  by  the  slaughter  of  that  monstrous  whale, 
You  freed  me  from  that  rock  where  I  was  fixed, 
To  be  devour'd  and  made  the  monster's  prey, 
And  after  won  me  from  a  thousand  hands, 
By  Phineus'  arm,  that  was  my  first  betrothed, 
Ingrate  were  I  your  fellowship  to  shun, 
Whom  by  the  force  of  arms  you  twice  have  won. 

Enter  BELLEROPHON. 

Pers.  Towards  Naples,  then. — But  soft !  what  knight 

is  that, 

So  passionately  deject?     Let  us  salute  him. — 
Whence  are  you,  gentle  knight  ? 

Seller.  I  am  of  Argos. 

Pers.  But  your  adventure  ? 

Better.  The  infernal  monster 
Call'd  the  Chimaera,  bred  in  Sicily. 

Pers.  Thou   canst   not  stake  thy  life  against  such 

odds, 

And  not  be  generously  deriv'd.     I,  Perseus, 
The  son  of  Jove  and  Danae,  offer  thee 
Assistance  to  this  noble  enterprise. 

Better.  Are  you  the  noble  Perseus,  whom  the  world 
Crowns  with  such  praise  and  royal  hardiness  ? 
Fam'd  for  your  wing'd  steed,  and  your  Gorgon's  shield, 
And  for  release  of  fair  Andromeda  ? 

Pers.  We  Perseus  are,  and  this  Andromeda, 
King  Cepheus'  daughter,  rescued  by  our  sword, 
The  keen-edg'd  harpe. 

Better.  Let  me  do  you  honours 
Worthy  your  state,  and  tell  such  news,  withal, 

H  2 


100  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  I. 

As  shall  disturb  the  quiet  of  your  thoughts. 

I  am  of  Argos,  where  Acrisius  reigned. 
Per s.  Our  grandsire,  and  reigns  still. 
Beller.  His  brother  Pretus 

Hath  cast  him  both  of  state  and  kingdom  too. 

Nor  let  Bellerophon  himself  belie : 

It  was  by  virtue  of  this  strong  right  arm, 

Which  he  hath  thus  requited,  to  expose  me 

Unto  this  strange  adventure.     The  full  circumstance 

I  shall  relate  at  leisure. 
Pers.  Dares  King  Pretus 

Depose  Acrisius,  knowing  Perseus  lives? 

Guide  me,  fair  knight,  unto  my  place  of  birth, 

Where  the  great  King  of  Argos  lives  captived, 

That  I  may  glaze  my  harpe  in  the  blood 

Of  tyrant  Pretus. 

Seller.  I  am  sworn  by  oath 

To  dare  the  rude  Sicilian  monster  first ; 
Whom  having  slain,  I'll  guide  you  to  the  rescue 
Of  King  Acrisius. 

Pers.  Thou  hast  fir'd  our  blood, 
And  startled  all  our  spirits,  Bellerophon. 
We'll  mount  our  Pegasus,  and  through  the  air 
Bear  thee  unto  that  fell  Chimaera's  den, 
And  in  the  slaughter  of  that  monstrous  beast 
Assist  thy  valour.     Thence  to  Argos  fly, 
Where  by  our  sword  th'  usurper  next  must  die. 

Better.  We  are  proud  of  your  assistance,  and,  withal, 
Assur'd  of  conquest. 

Pers.  Fair  Andromeda, 

Danaus  shall  be  your  guardian  towards  Argos, 
Where,  after  this  achievement,  we  will  meet 
To  give  our  grandsire  freedom.     Come,  let's  part : 
We  through  the  air,  you  towards  Darreine  tower, 
Where  tragic  ruin  Pretus  shall  devour.  [Eareunt. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  101 

Enter  King  PRETUS  and  Queen  AUREA. 

Pret.  Aurea,  we  were  too  hasty  in  our  doom, 
To  lose  that  knight  whose  arm  protected  us, 
Whose  fame  kept  all  our  neighbour  kings  in  awe ; 
Nor  was  our  state  confirm'd  but  in  his  life. 

A ur.  Let  traitors  perish,  and  their  plots  decay, 
And  we  still  by  divine  assistance  sway. 

Pret.  But  say  some  prince  should  plot  Acrisius'  rescue, 
Invade  great  Argos,  or  siege  Darreine  tower, 
Then  should  we  wish  Bellerophon  again 
To  oppose  their  fury,  and  their  pride  restrain. 

A  ur.  To  cut  off  all  these  fears,  cut  off  Acrisius: 
Appear  to  him  a  brother  full  as  merciless 
As  he  a  cruel  father  to  his  child, 
The  beauteous  Danae,  and  her  infant  son. 

Pret.  Only  his  ruin  must  secure  our  state, 
And  he  shall  die,  to  cut  off  future  claim 
Unto  this  populous  kingdom  we  enjoy. — 
Our  guard  !     Command  our  captive  brother  hither, 
Whom  we  this  day  must  sentence. — Oh,  Bellerophon  ! 
Thy  wrongs  I  half  suspect,  thy  doom  repent, 
Since  all  thy  acts  proclaim  thee  innocent. 

Enter  ACRISIUS,  brought  in  by  the  Guard. 

Guard.  Behold  the  King,  your  brother. 

Pret.  We  thus  sentence 

Thy  life,  Acrisius :  thou,  that  had'st  the  heart 
To  thrust  thy  child  into  a  mastless  boat 
With  a  fair  hopeful  prince,  unto  the  fury 
And  rage  of  the  remorseless  winds  and  waves ; 
To  doom  those  innocent  ladies  to  the  fire 
That  were  her  faultless  guardians ;  the  like  sentence 
Receive  from  us.     We  doom  thee  imminent  death 
Without  delay  or  pause. — Bear  to  the  block 


102  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  I. 

The  tyrant.     He  that  could  not  use  his  reign 
With  clemency,  we  thus  his  rage  restrain. 

Acris.  Thou  show'st  thyself  in  rigour  pitiful, 
And  full  of  mercy  in  thy  cruelty, 
To  take  away  that  life,  which  to  enjoy 
Were  many  deaths.     Having  my  Danae  lost, 
With  her  son  Perseus ;  having  lost  my  kingdom, 
All  through  the  vain  fears  of  prophetic  spells, 
Why  should  I  wish  a  wretched  life  to  save, 
That  may  rest  happy  in  a  peaceful  grave  ? 

\_A  flourish  and  a  shout. 

Enter  a  Gentleman. 

Genii.  Strange  and  admirable  ! 
Bellerophon  and  a  brave  strange  knight, 
Both  crown'd  in  blood  in  the  Chimaera's  spoil, 
Have  cleft  the  air  on  a  swift  winged  steed, 
And  in  your  court  alighted :  both  their  swords, 
Bath'd  in  the  serpent's  blood,  they  brandish  still, 
As  if  they  yet  some  monster  had  to  kill. 

Pret.  Bellerophon  return'd  !     Thou  hast  amaz'd  us. 

Enter  PERSEUS,  DANAUS,  and  BELLEROPHON,  with 
ANDROMEDA. 

Pers.  One,  monster,  than  the  rude  Chimaere  more  fell, 
That's  Pretus,  Danae's  son  must  send  to  hell. 

Pret.  Treason !  our  guard  !       [PERS.  Mils  PRETUS.] 

Pers.  Lives  there  a  man,  the  tyrant  Pretus  dead, 
Saith  that  the  crown  shall  not  invest  his  head? 

All.  We'll  all  stand  for  the  King  Acrisius. 

Pers.  Then,  by  this  general  suffrage  once  more  reign, 
Since  by  our  hand  th'  usurper  here  lies  slain. 

Acr.  Our  hopeless  life  and  new  invested  state 
Strike  not  so  deep  into  Acrisius'  joys, 
As  when  he  hears  the  name  of  Danae's  son. 
Lives  Danae  ? 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  103 

Pers.  Grandsire,  thy  fair  daughter  lives, 
A  potent  queen :  we,  Perseus,  are  her  son ; 
This  Danaus,  your  hopeful  grandchild  too. 
Nor  let  me  quite  forget  Andromeda, 
By  Perseus'  sword  freed  from  the  great  sea-whale, 
And  now  ingraft  into  your  royal  line. 

Acr.  Divide  my  soul  amongst  you,  and  impart 
My  life,  my  state,  my  kingdom,  and  my  heart. 
Oh !  had  I  Danae  here,  my  joys  to  fill, 
I  truly  then  should  be  immortalized. — 
Renowned  Perseus,  Danaus  inly  dear, 
And  you,  bright  lady,  fair  Andromeda, 
You  are  to  me  a  stronger  fort  of  joy 
Than  Darreine's  brass,  which  no  siege  can  destroy. 

Dan.  My  grandsire's  sight  doth  promise  as  much  bliss 
As  can  Elysium,  or  those  pleasant  fields 
Where  the  blest  souls  inhabit. 

Andro.  You  are  to  me 
As  life  on  earth,  in  death  eternity. 

Acr.  Let  none  presume  our  purpose  to  control, 
For  our  decree  is,  like  the  doom  of  gods, 
Fix'd  and  unchanging.     Perseus  we  create 
Great  Argos'  king,  crown'd  with  this  wreath  of  state. 

Pers.  With  like  applause  and  suffrage  shall  be  seen 
The  fair  Andromeda  crown'd  Argos'  queen. 

Acr.  Only  the  Darreine  tower  I  still  reserve, 
In  that  to  penance  me  a  life  retired, 
And  I  in  that  shall  prove  the  Oracle : 
Fair  Danae's  son,  instated  in  my  throne, 
Shall  thus  confine  me  to  an  arch  of  stone. 
There  will  I  live,  attended  by  my  guard, 
And  leave  to  thee  the  manage  of  my  realm. 
Our  will  is  law,  which  none  that  bears  us  well 
Will  strive  by  word  or  action  to  refell. 

Pen.  The  gods'  behests  with  your  resolve  agree, 


104  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

To  increase  in  us  this  growing  majesty. — 
Bellerophon,  we  make  thee,  next  ourself 
Of  state  in  Argos. — Danaus,  you  shall  hence, 
To  cheer  our  mother  in  these  glad  reports, 
And  to  succeed  Pelonnus  :  but  first  stay 
Rites  due  to  us,  ere  we  the  State  can  sway. 

ACTUS  II.     SC^NA  I. 

HOMER. 

Alack  !  earth's  joys  are  but  short-uVd,  and  last 
But  like  a  puff  of  breath,  which,  thus,  is  past. 
Acrisius  in  his  fortress  lives  retir'd, 
Kept  with  a  strong  guard :  Perseus  reigns  sole  king, 
Who  in  himself,  one  sad  night,  long  desir'd 
To  see  his  grandsire,  some  glad  news  to  bring, 
Whom  the  stern  warders,  in  the  night,  unknown, 
Seek  to  keep  back,  whence  all  his  grief  is  grown. 

A  dumb  show.  Enter  six  Warders,  to  them  PERSEUS, 
DANAUS,  BELLEROPHON,  and  ANDROMEDA.  PER- 
SEUS takes  his  leave  of  them,  to  go  towards  the  tower :  the 
Warders  repulse  him ;  he  draws  his  sword.  In  the 
tumult,  Enter  ACRISIUS  to  pacify  them,  and  in  the 
hurly-burly  is  slain  by  PERSEUS,  who  laments  his  death. 
To  them  BELLEROPHON  and  the  rest.  PERSEUS 
makes  BELLEROPHON  King  of  Argos,  and  with 
DANAUS  and  ANDROMEDA  departs. 

HOMER. 

Perseus  repuls'd  the  sturdy  Warder  strikes ; 

This  breeds  a  tumult ;  out  their  weapons  fly. 

Acrisius  hears  their  clamours  and  their  shrikes, 

And  down  descends,  this  brawl  to  pacify, 

Not  knowing  whence  it  grows :  and  in  this  brawl 
Acrisius  by  his  grandchild's  hand  doth  fall. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  105 

The  Oracle's  fulfill'd :  he's  turn'd  to  stone, 
That's  to  his  marble  grave,  by  Danae's  son ; 
Which  in  the  prince  breeds  such  lament  and  moan, 
That  longer  there  to  reign  he'll  not  be  won. 
But  first  Bellerophon  he  will  invest, 
And  after  makes  his  travels  towards  the  East. 

Of  Jupiter,  now  deified  and  made 

Supreme  of  all  the  gods,  we  next  proceed. 

Your  suppositions  now  must  lend  us  aid, 

That  he  can  all  things,  as  a  god  indeed. 

Our  scene  is  Thebes ;  here  fair  Alcmena  dwells : 

Her  husband  in  his  warfare  thrives  abroad, 

And  by  his  chivalry  his  foes  expels. 

He  absent,  now  descends  th'  Olympic  god, 

Enamour'd  of  Alcmena,  and  transhapes 

Himself  into  her  husband :   Ganimede 

He  makes  assistant  in  his  amorous  rapes, 

Whilst  he  prefers  the  earth  'fore  Juno's  bed. 
Lend  us  your  wonted  patience,  without  scorn, 
To  find  how  Hercules  was  got  and  born. 

Enter  AMPHITRIO,  with  two  Captains  and  SOCIA,  with 
drum  and  colours :  he  brings  in  the  head  of  a  crowned 
king,  swears  the  Lords  to  the  obeisance  of  Thebes,  They 
present  him  with  a  standing  bowl,  which  he  locks  in  a 
casket ;  and  sending  his  man  with  a  letter  before  to  his 
wife,  with  news  of  his  victory,  he,  with  his  followers  and 
BLEPHARO,  the  master  of  the  ship,  marcheth  after. 

HOMER. 

Creon,  that  now  reigns  here  the  Theban  king, 
Alcmena's  husband,  great  Amphitrio,  made 
His  general,  who  to  his  lord  doth  bring 
His  enemy's  head,  that  did  his  land  invade. 
Think  him  returning  home,  but  sends  before, 


106  THE  SILYER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

By  letters,  to  acquaint  his  beauteous  wife 

Of  his  success :  himself,  in  sight  of  shore, 

Must  land  this  night ;  where  many  a  doubtful  strife 

Amongst  them  grows.     But  Jove  himself  descends, 

Cuts  off  my  speech ;  and  here  my  Chorus  ends. 

Thunder  and  lightning.     JUPITER  descends  in  a  cloud. 

Jup.  Earth  before  heaven  we  once  more  have  preferred. 
Beauty,  that  works  into  the  hearts  of  gods, 
As  it  hath  power  to  mad  the  thoughts  of  men, 
So  even  in  us  it  hath  attraction. 
The  fair  Alcmena,  like  the  seaman's  star, 
Shooting  her  glistering  beauty  up  to  heaven, 
Hath  pull'd  from  thence  the  Olympic  Jupiter, 
By  virtue  of  her  rays.     Let  Juno  scold, 
And  with  her  clamours  fill  the  ears  of  heaven : 
Let  her  be  like  a  Bacchanal  in  rage, 
And  through  our  crystal  palace  breath  exclaims, 
With  her  quick  feet  the  galaxia  wear, 
And  with  inquisitive  voice  search  through  the  spheres, 
She  shall  not  find  us  here ;  or,  should  she  see  us, 
Can  she  distinguish  us,  being  thus  transhap'd. — 
Where's  Ganimede  ?     We  sent  him  to  survey 
Amphitrio's  palace,  where  we  mean  to  lodge. 

Enter  GANIMEDE,  shaped  like  SOCIA. 

In  happy  time  return'd.     Now,  Socia  ? 

Gan.  Indeed,  that's  my  name ;  as  sure 
As  yours  is  Amphitrio. 

Jup.  Three  nights  I  have  put  in  one,  to  take  our  fill 
Of  dalliance  with  this  beauteous  Theban  dame. 
A  powerful  charm  is  cast  o'er  Phoebus'  eyes, 
Who  sleeps  this  night  within  the  Euxine  Sea, 
And  'till  the  third  day  shall  forget  his  charge 
To  mount  the  golden  chariot  of  the  sun. 


SCENE   I. 


THE  SILVER  AGE.  107 


The  Antipodes  to  us  shall  have  a  day 
Of  three  days'  length.     Now,  at  this  hour  is  fought 
By  Joshua,  Duke  unto  the  Hebrew  nation, 
(Who  are  indeed  the  Antipodes  to  us) 
His  famous  battle  'gainst  the  Canaanites, 
And  at  his  orison  the  sun  stands  still, 
That  he  may  have  their  slaughter. — Ganimede, 
Go  knock,  and  get  us  entrance.  [Exit  JUPITER. 

Gan.  Before  I  knock,  let  me  a  little  determine  with 
myself.  If  I  be  accessary  to  Jupiter  in  his  amorous 
purpose,  I  am  little  better  than  a  parcel-gilt  bawd,  but 
must  excuse  myself  thus :  Ganimede  is  now  not  Gani- 
mede; and  if  this  imputation  be  put  upon  me,  let  it 
light  upon  Socia,  whom  I  am  now  to  personate.  But  I 
am  too  long  in  the  prologue  of  this  merry  play  we  are 
to  act.  I  will  knock,  and  the  serving-men  shall  enter. 

1  Serv.  [Within.~\  Who  knocks  so  late  ? 
Gan.  He  that  must  in.     Open  for  Socia, 

Who  brings  you  news  home  of  the  Theban  wars. 

Enter  three  Serving-men. 

2  Serv.  Socia  returned? 

3  Serv.  Unhurt — unslain? 

Gan.  Even  as  you  see.     And  how,  and  how  ? 

1  Serv.  Socia,  let  me  have  an  armful  of  thee. 
Gan.  Armfuls  and  handfuls,  too,  my  boys. 

2  Serv.  The  news  ?  the  news  ?     How  doth  my  Lord 
Amphitrio  ? 

Gan.  Nay,  how  doth  my  lady  Alcmena?     Some  of 
you  carry  her  word  my  lord  will  be  here  presently. 

1  Serv.  I'll  be  the  messenger  of  these  glad  news. 

2  Serv.  I'll  have  a  hand  in  't,  too. 

3  Serv.  I'll  not  be  last.  \Exeunt  Serving-men. 
Gan.  They  are  gone  to  inform  their  lady,  who  will 

be  ready  to  entertain  a  counterfeit  lord.     Jupiter  is 


108  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

preparing  himself  to  meet  Alcmena ;  Alcmena,  she  to 
encounter  Jupiter:  her  beauty  hath  enchanted  him; 
his  metamorphosis  must  beguile  her.  All's  put  to  proof. 
I'll  in  to  furnish  my  lord,  whilst  my  fellow-servants 
attend  their  lady.  They  come. 

Enter,  at  one  door,  AL.CMENA,  THESSALA,  four  Serving- 
men  :  at  the  other,  JUPITER,  shaped  like  AMPHITRIO, 
to  GANIMEDE. 

Ale,  But  are  you  sure  you  spake  with  Socia? 
And  did  he  tell  you  of  Amphitrio's  health  ? 

1  Serv.  Madam,  I  assure  you,  we  spake  with  Socia, 
and  my  Lord  Amphitrio  will  be  here  instantly. 

Ale.  Usher  me  in  a  costly  banquet  straight, 
To  entertain  my  lord.     Let  all  the  windows 
Glister  with  lights  like  stars :  cast  sweet  perfumes 
To  breathe  to  heaven  their  odoriferous  airs, 
To  tell  the  gods  my  husband's  safe  returned, 
If  you  be  sure  'twas  Socia. 

2  Serv.  Madam,  take  my  life,  if  it  be  not  true. 
Ale.  Then,  praise  be  to  the  highest  Jupiter, 

Whose  powerful  arm  gave  strength  unto  my  lord, 
To  work  his  safety  through  these  dangerous  wars  ! 
Hang  with  our  richest  works  our  chambers  round, 
And  let  the  room  wherein  we  rest  to-night 
Flow  with  no  less  delight  than  Juno's  bed, 
When  in  her  arms  she  claspeth  Jupiter. 

Jup.  I'll  fill  thy  bed  with  more  delightful  sweets, 
Than  when  with  Mars  the  Cyprian  Venus  meets. 

Ale.  See  how  you  stir  for  odours,  lights,  choice  cates, 
Spices,  and  wines !     Is  not  Amphitrio  coming 
With  honour  from  the  wars?    Where's  your  attendance? 
Sweet  waters,  costly  ointments,  precious  baths, 
Let  me  have  all  for  taste,  touch,  smell,  and  sight. 
All  his  five  senses  we  will  feast  this  nijjht. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  109 

Jup.  'Tis  time  to  appear. — Alcmena ! 

A  Ic,  My  dear  lord  ! 

Gan.  It  works,  it  works  !  now  for  Juno,  to  set  a 
scold  between  them.  \_A  banquet  brought  in. 

Ale.  Oh,  may  these  arms,  that  guarded  Thebes  and  us, 
Be  ever  thus  my  girdle,  that  in  them 
I  may  live  ever  safe  !     Welcome,  Amphitrio. — 
A  banquet !  lights!  attendance! — Good  my  lord, 
Tell  me  your  war's  discourse. 

Jup.  Sit,  fair  Alcmena. 

Ale.  Proceed,  my  dearest  love. 

Jup.  I,  as  great  General  to  the  Theban  king, 
March'd  'gainst  the  Teleboans,  who  make  head 
And  offer  us  encounter :  both  our  armies 
Are  cast  in  form,  well  fronted,  sleev'd,  and  winged. 
We  throw  our  vows  to  heaven ;  the  trumpets  sound 
The  battle's  signal.     Now  begin  the  incursions : 
The  earth  beneath  our  armed  burdens  groans ; 
Shots  from  each  side  reverberate  against  heaven ; 
With  arrows  and  with  darts  the  air  grows  dark ; 
And  now  confusion  ruffles*     Here  the  shouts 
Of  victors  sound,  there  groans  of  death  are  heard : 
Slaughter  on  all  sides.     Still  our  eminent  hand 
Towers  in  the  air  a  victor,  whilst  the  enemy 
Have  their  despoiled  helmets  crown'd  in  dust. 
We  stand,  they  fall;  yet  still  King  Ptelera 
Strives  to  make  head,  and  with  a  fresh  supply 
Takes  up  the  mid  field.     Him  Amphitrio  fronts 
With  equal  arms :  we,  the  two  Generals, 
Fight  hand  to  hand ;  but  Jove  omnipotent 
Gave  me  his  life  and  head,  which  we  to-morrow 
Must  give  to  King  Creon. 

Ale.  All  my  orisons 

Fought  on  your  side,  and  with  their  powerful  weight 
Added  unto  the  ponder  of  your  sword, 


110  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

To  make  it  heavy  on  the  burgonet 
Of  slaughter'd  Ptelera. 

Jup.  I  for  my  reward 

Had,  by  the  subjects  of  that  conquer'd  king, 
A  golden  cup  presented,  the  choice  bowl 
In  which  the  slaughter'd  tyrant  us'd  to  quaff. — 
Socia ! 

Gan.  My  lord. 

Jup.  The  cup. — See,  fair  Alcmena. 

Gan.  This  cup  Mercury  stole  out  of  Amphitrio's 
casket ;  but  all's  one,  as  long  as  it  is  truly  delivered. 

Ale.  In  this  rich  bowl  I'll  only  quaff  your  health, 
Or  use  when  to  the  gods  I  sacrifice. — 
Is  our  chamber  ready  ? 

Jup.  Gladly  I'd  to  bed, 
Where  I  will  mix  with  kisses  my  discourse, 
And  tell  the  whole  project. 

Ale.  Mirth  abound. 

Through  all  these  golden  roofs  let  music  sound, 
To  charm  my  lord  to  soft  and  downy  rest. 

Jup.  Come ;  light  us  to  our  sheets. 

Ale.  Amphitrio's  head 
Shall  here  be  pillow'd  :  lights,  then,  and  to  bed. 

\_Exeunt  with  torches. 

Gan.  Alas  !  poor  Amphitrio,  I  pity  thee,  that  art  to 
be  made  cuckold  against  thy  wife's  will.  She  is  honest 
in  her  worst  dishonesty,  and  chaste  in  the  superlative 
degree  of  inchastity.  But  I  am  set  here  to  keep  the 
gate :  now,  to  my  office. 

Enter  SOCIA,  with  a  letter. 

Soc.  Here's  a  night  of  nights!  I  think  the  moon 
stands  still,  and  all  the  stars  are  asleep :  he  that  drives 
Charles's  wain  is  taking  a  nap  in  his  cart,  for  they  are  all 
at  a  stand.  This  night  hath  been  as  long  as  two  nights 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE. 

already,  and  I  think  'tis  now  entering  on  the  third.  I 
am  glad,  yet,  that  out  of  this  utter  darkness  I  am  come 
to  see  lights  in  my  lady's  palace :  there  will  be  simple 
news  for  her,  when  I  shall  tell  her  my  lord  is  coming 
home. 

Gan.  'Tis  Socia,  and  Amphitrio's  man,  sent  before  to 
tell  his  lady  of  her  husband.  I  must  prevent  him. 

Soc.  This  night  will  never  have  an  end:  he  that 
hath  hired  a  wench  to  lie  with  him  all  this  night,  hath 
time  enough,  I  think,  to  take  his  pennyworths.  But 
Til  knock. 

Gan.  I  charge  thee  not  to  knock  here,  lest  thou  be 
knocked. 

Soc.  What !  not  at  my  master's  gate  ? 

Gan.  I  charge  thee  once  more.  Tell  me  whose  thou 
art,  whither  thou  goest,  and  wherefore  thou  comest  ? 

Soc.  Hither  I  go,  I  serve  my  master,  and  come  to 
speak  with  my  lady.  What  art  thou  the  wiser  ?  Nay, 
if  thou  beest  a  good  fellow,  let  me  pass  by  thee. 

Gan.  Whom  dost  thou  serve  ? 

Soc.  I  serve  my  Lord  Amphitrio,  and  am  sent  in  haste 
to  my  lady  Alcmena. 

Gan.  Thy  name  ? 

Soc.  Socia. 

Gan.  Base  counterfeit,  take  that !  Can  you  not  be 
content  to  come  sneaking  to  one's  house  in  the  night,  to 
rob  it,  but  you  must  likewise  rob  me  of  my  name  ? 

Soc.  Thy  name  !  why,  what's  thy  name  ? 

Gan.  Socia. 

Soc.  Socia  !  and  whom  dost  thou  serve  ? 

Gan.  My  Lord  Amphitrio,  chief  of  the  Theban 
legions,  and  my  Lady  Alcmena.  B  ut  what's  that  to  thee  ? 

Soc.  Ha,  ha  !  that's  a  good  jest.  But,  do  you  hear  ? 
If  you  be  Socia,  my  Lord  Amphitrio's  man,  and  my 
Lady  Alcmena's,  where  dost  thou  lie  ? 


112  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Gan.  Where  do  I  lie  ?     Why,  in  the  porter's  lodge. 

Soc.  You  are  deceived:  you  lie  in  your  throat. 
There's  but  one  Socia  belongs  to  this  house,  and  that 
am  I. 

Gan.  Lie,  slave  !  and  wilt  thou  outface  me  from  my 
name  ?  I'll  use  thee  like  thyself,  a  counterfeit. 

[Beats  him. 
What  art  thou  ?     Speak. 

Soc.  I  cannot  tell. 

Gan.  Whom  dost  thou  serve  ? 

Soc.  The  time. 

Gan.  Thy  name? 

Soc.  Nothing. 

Gan.  Thy  business? 

Soc.  To  be  beaten. 

Gan.  And  what  am  I  ? 

Soc.  What  you  will. 

Gan.  Am  not  I  Socia? 

Soc.  If  you  be  not,  I  would  you  were  so,  to  be  beaten 
in  my  place. 

Gan.  I  knew  my  lord  had  no  servant  of  that  name 
but  me. 

Soc.  Shall  I  speak  a  few  cool  words,  and  bar  buf- 
feting? 

Gan.  Speak  freely. 

Soc.  You  will  not  strike  ? 

Gan.  Say  on. 

Soc.  I  am  the  party  you  wot  of:  I  am  Socia.  You 
may  strike,  if  you  will,  but,  in  beating  me,  (if  you  be 
Socia)  I  assure  you,  you  shall  but  beat  yourself. 

Gan.  The  fellow's  mad. 

Soc.  Mad !  Am  I  not  newly  landed  ?  Sent  hither 
by  my  master?  Is  not  this  our  house?  Do  I  not 
speak  ?  Am  I  not  awake  ?  Am  I  not  newly  beaten  ? 
Do  I  not  feel  it  still?  And  shall  I  doubt  I  am 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  113 

not  myself?     Come,  come;    I'll  in,  and  do  my  mes- 


Gan.  Sirrah,  I  have  endured  you  with  much  impa- 
tience. Wilt  thou  make  me  believe  I  am  not  Socia? 
Was  not  our  ship  launched  out  of  the  Persic  haven  ? 
Did  I  not  land  this  night  ?  Have  we  not  won  the  town 
where  King  Ptelera  reigned?  Have  we  not  over- 
thrown the  Teleboans  ?  Did  not  my  Lord  Amphitrio 
kill  the  king,  hand  to  hand  ?  And  did  he  not  send  me, 
this  night,  with  a  letter  to  certify  my  Lady  Alcmena  of 
all  these  news? 

Soc.  I  begin  to  mistrust  myself:  all  this  is  as  true  as 
if  I  had  told  it  myself.  But  I'll  try  him  farther. — What 
did  the  Teleboans  present  my  lord  with,  after  the  victory  ? 

Gan.  With  a  golden  cup,  in  which  the  king  himself 
used  to  quaff. 

Soc.  Where  did  I  put  it  ? 

Gan.  That  I  know  not;  but  I  put  it  into  a  casket, 
sign'd  by  my  lord's  signet. 

Soc.  And  what's  the  signet? 

Gan.  The  sun  rising  from  the  East  in  his  chariot. 
But  do  you  come  to  undermine  me,  you  slave  ? 

Soc.  I  must  go  seek  some  other  name:  I  am  half 
hanged  already,  for  my  good  name  is  lost. — Once  more 
resolve  me.  If  thou  canst  tell  me  what  I  did  alone,  I 
will  resign  thee  my  name.  If  thou  becst  Socia,  when 
the  battles  began  to  join,  as  soon  as  they  began  to 
skirmish,  what  didst  thou  ? 

Gan.  As  soon  as  they  began  to  fight,  I  began  to  run. 

Soc.  Whither? 

Gan.  Into  my  lord's  tent,  and  there  hid  me  under  a  bed. 

Soc.  I  am  gone !  I  am  gone  !  Somebody,  for  charity's 
sake,  either  lend  me  or  give  me  a  name,  for  this  I  have 
lost  by  the  way.  And  now  I  look  better  on — he  me, 
or  I  he — as  he  hath  got  my  name,  he  hath  got  my 

i 


314  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

shape,  countenance,  stature,  and  every  thing  so  right, 
that  he  can  be  no  other  than  I,  my  own  self.  But 
when  I  think  that  I  am  I,  the  same  I  ever  was ;  know 
my  master,  his  house ;  have  sense,  feeling,  and  under- 
standing ;  know  my  message,  my  business,  why  should 
not  I  in,  to  deliver  my  letter  to  my  lady  ? 

Gan.  That  letter  is  deliver'd  by  my  hand. 
My  lady  knows  all,  and  expects  her  lord, 
And  I,  her  servant,  Socia,  am  set  here, 
To  keep  such  idle  rascals  from  the  gate. 
Then,  leave  me,  and  by  fair  means,  or  I'll  send  thee 
Legless  or  armless  hence. 

Soc.  Nay,  thou  hast  robb'd  me  of  enough  already. 
I  would  be  loth  to  lose  my  name  and  limbs  both  in 
one  night. — Where  have  I  miscarried?  Where  been 
changed  ?  Did  I  not  leave  myself  behind  in  the  ship, 
when  I  came  away  ?  I'll  even  back  to  my  master,  and 
see  if  he  know  me :  if  he  know  me ;  if  he  call  me 
Socia,  and  will  bear  me  out  in't,  I'll  come  back,  and  do 
my  message,  spite  of  him  says  nay. — Farewell,  self. 

\Exit. 

Gan.  This  obstacle,  the  father  of  more  troubles, 
I  have  put  off,  and  kept  him  from  disturbance 
In  their  adulterate  pastimes.     Fair  Alcmena 
Is  great  already  by  Amphitrio, 
And  near  her  time ;  and  if  she  prove  by  Jupiter, 
He,  by  his  power  and  god-hood,  will  contract 
Both  births  in  one,  to  make  her  throws  the  less, 
And  at  one  instant  she  shall  child  two  issues, 
Begot  by  Jove  and  by  Amphitrio. 
The  house  by  this,  long  charm'd  by  Hermes'  rod, 
Are  stirring,  and  Jove,  glutted  with  delights, 
Ready  to  take  his  leave,  thorough  satiate 
With  amorous  dalliance.     Parting's  not  so  sweet 
Between  our  lovers,  as  when  first  they  meet. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  115 

Enter  JUPITER,  ALCMENA,  and  the  Servants. 

Jup.  My  dearest  love,  farewell.     We  generals 
Cannot  be  absent  from  our  charges  long. 
I  stole  from  the  army  to  repose  with  thee, 
And  must,  before  the  sun  mount  to  his  chariot, 
Be  there  again. 

Ale.  My  lord,  you  come  at  midnight, 
And  you  make  haste,  too,  to  be  gone  ere  morn. 
You  rise  before  your  bed  be  thoroughly  warm. 

Jup.  Fairest  of  our  Theban  dames,  accuse  me  not. 
I  left  the  charge  of  soldiers  to  report 
The  fortune  of  our  battles  first  to  thee ; 
Which  should  the  camp  know,  they  will  lay  on  me 
A  grievous  imputation,  that  the  beauty 
Of  my  fair  wife  can  with  Amphitrio  more 
Than  can  the  charge  of  legions.     As  my  coming 
Was  secret  and  conceal'd,  so  my  return, 
Which  shall  be  short  and  sudden. 

Ak.  That  I  fear; 
Better  I  had  to  keep  you,  being  here. 

Jup.  Nay,  part  we  must :  sweet  lady,  dry  your  tears. 

Ale.  You'll  make  my  minutes  months,  and  days  seem 
years. 

Jup.  Your  business,  ere  we  part  ? 

Ale.  Only  to  pray 

You  will  make  haste,  not  be  too  long  away. 
Farewell. 

Jup.  Farewell. — Come,  Ganimede,  'tis  done, 
And  fair  Alcmena  sped  with  a  young  son.          \_Exeunt. 

Enter  AMPHITRIO,  SOCIA,  two  Captains,  with 
Attendants. 

Amph.  Oh,  gentlemen  !  was  ever  man  thus  crost? 
So  strangely  flouted  by  an  abject  groom, 

i  2 


U (j  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

That  either  dreams,  or 's  mad  ?  one  that  speaks  nothing 

Saving  impossibilities,  and  merely 

False  and  absurd. — Thus,  thou  art  here  and  there, 

With  me,  at  home,  and  at  one  instant  both. 

In  vain  are  these  delirements,  and  to  me 

Most  deeply  incredible. 

Soc.  I  am  your  own :  you  may  use  me  as  you  please. 
One  would  think  I  had  lost  enough  already,  to  lose  my 
name  and  shape,  and  now  to  lose  your  favour  too.  Oh  ! 

1  Capt.  Fie,    Socia.     You  too    much    forget    your- 

self; 

A  nd  'tis  beyond  all  sufferance  in  your  lord 
To  use  no  violent  hand. 

Soc.  You  may  say  what  you  will,  but  a  truth  is  a 
truth. 

2  Capt.  But  this  is  neither  true  nor  probable, 
That  this  one  body  can  divide  itself, 

And  be  in  two  set  places.     Fie,  Socia,  fie  ! 

Soc.  I  tell  you  as  it  is. 

Amph.  Slave,  of  all  slaves  the  basest,  urge  me  not. 
Persist  in  these  absurdities,  and  I  vow 
To  cut  thy  tongue  out,  have  thee  scourg'd  and  beaten. 
I'll  have  thee  flayed. 

Soc.  You  may  so :  you  may  as  well  take  my  skin,  as 
another  take  my  name  and  phisnomy.  All  goes  one 
way. 

Amph.  Tell  o'er  thy  tale  again:  make  it  more  plain. 
Pray,  gentlemen,  your  ears. 

Soc.  Then,  as  I  said  before,  so  say  I  still.  I  am  at 
home  ;  do  you  hear  ?  I  am  here ;  do  you  see  ?  I  spake 
with  my  lady  at  home,  yet  could  not  come  in  at  the 
gate  to  see  her;  I  delivered  her  your  letter,  and  yet 
have  it  still  in  my  hand.  Is  not  this  plain  ?  Do  you 
understand  me?  I  am  neither  mad  nor  drunk,  but 
what  I  speak  is  in  sober  sadness. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  117 

1  Copt.  Fie,  Socia,  fie !  thou  art  much,  too  much  to 

blame. 

2  Copt.  How  dare  you  tempt  your  master's  patience 

thus? 

Amph.  Think  not  to  'scape  thus.     Yet,  once  more 

resolve  me, 

And  faithfully.     Dost  thou  think  it  possible 
Thou  canst  be  here  and  there  ?     Be  sensible, 
And  tell  me,  Socia. 

Soc.  'Tis  possible ;  nor  blame  I  you  to  wonder,  for 
it  marvels  me  as  much  as  any  here.  Nor  did  I  believe 
that  he,  my  own  self  that  is  at  home,  till  he  did  convince 
me  with  arguments ;  told  me  every  thing  I  did  at  the 
siege ;  remembered  my  errand  better  than  myself:  nor 
is  water  more  like  to  water,  nor  milk  to  milk,  than  that 
he  and  I  are  to  me  and  him ;  for  when  you  sent  me 
home  about  midnight 

Amph.  What  then? 

Soc.  I  stood  there,  to  keep  the  gate,  a  great  while 
before  I  came  at  it. 

Capt.  The  fellow's  mad. 

Soc.  I  am  as  you  see. 

Amph.  He  hath  been  struck  by   some   malevolent 
hand. 

Soc.  Nay,  that's  certain;  for  I  have  been  soundly 
beaten. 

Amph.  Who  beat  thee? 

Soc.  I,  my  own  self,  that  am  at  home.  How  oft 
shall  I  tell  you  ? 

Amph.  Sirrah,  we'll  owe  you  this.  —  Now,  gentle- 
men, 

You  that  have  been  co-partners  in  our  wars, 
Shall  now  co-part  our  welcome :  we  will  visit 
Our  beauteous  wife,  with  whom  (our  business  ended) 
We  have  leisure  to  confer. 


118  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Enter  ALCMENA,  her  Servants  and  Maid. 

Ale.  Have  you  took  down  those  hangings,  that  were 

placed 
To  entertain  my  lord  ? 

1  Serv.  Madam,  they  are. 

Ale.  And  is  our  private  bed-chamber  disrobed 
Of  all  her  beauty,  to  look  ruinous 
Till  my  lord's  presence  shall  repair^  again  ? 

2  Serv.  'Tis  done  as  you  directed. 
Ale.  Every  chamber, 

Office,  and  room,  shall  in  his  absence  look 
As  if  they  miss'd  their  master,  and  bear  part 
With  me  in  my  resembled  widowhood. 

3  Serv.  That  needs  not,  madam.     See  ;    my   lord's 

return'd. 

Ale.  And  made  such  haste  to  leave  me  ?     I  misdoubt 
Some  trick  in  this.     Is  it  distrust,  or  fear 
Of  my  prov'd  virtue?     Value  it  at  best, 
'T  can  be  no  less  than  idle  jealousy. 

Amph.  See  bright  Alcmena.  With  my  sudden  greeting 
I'll  rap  her  soul  to  heaven,  and  make  her  surfeit 
With  joy's  abundance. — Beauteous  lady,  see 
Amphitrio  return'd  a  conqueror, 
Glad  to  enfold  in  his  victorious  arms 
Thy  nine-month  absent  body,  whose  ripe  birth 
Swells  with  such  beauty  in  thy  constant  womb. 
How  cheers  my  lady  ? 

Ale.  So,  so;  we'll  do  to  her  your  kind  commends. 
You  may  make  bold  to  play  upon  your  friends. 

Amph.  Ha  !  what  language  call  you  this,  that  seems 

to  me 

Past  understanding  ?     I  conceive  it  not. 
I  rejoice  to  see  you,  wife. 

Ale.  Yet  shall's  have  more? 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVEIi  AGE.  119 

You  do  but  now  as  you  have  done  before. 
Pray,  flout  me  still,  and  do  yourself  that  right, 
To  tell  that  o'er  you  told  me  yesternight. 

Amph.    What    yesternight?     Alcmena,    this    your 

greeting 

Distastes  me.     I  but  now,  now  with  these  gentlemen, 
Landed  at  Thebes,  and  came  to  do  my  love 
To  thee,  before  my  duty  to  my  king. 
This  strangeness  much  amazeth  me. 

Soc.  "We  have  found  one  Socia,  but  we  are  like  to 
lose  an  Arnphitrio. 

Ale.  Shall  I  be  plain,  my  lord?     I  take  it  ill 
That  you,  whom  I  receiv'd  late  yesternight, 
Gave  you  my  freest  welcome,  feasted  you, 
Lodg'd  you,  and  but  this  morning,  two  hours  since, 
Took  leave  of  you  with  tears,  that  your  return 
So  sudden  should  be  furnish'd  with  such  scorn. 

Amph.  Gentlemen,  I  fear  the  madness  of  my  man 
Is  fled  into  her  brain. — Be  these  my  witness, 
I  am  but  newly  landed :  witness  these, 
With  whom  I  have  not  parted. 

1  Copt.  In  this  we  needs  must  take  our  General's  part, 
And  witness  of  his  side. 

Ale.  And  bring  you  witness  to  suggest  your  wrongs? 
Against  you  two  I  can  oppose  all  these. — 
Receiv'd  I  not  Amphitrio  yesternight? 

1  Serv.  I  assure  you.     My  lord,  remember  yourself ; 
you  were  here  yesternight. 

All.  'Tis  most  certain. 

Amph.  These  villains  all  are  by  my  wife  suborned, 
To  seek  to  mad  me.     Gentlemen,  pray  list : 
We'll  give  this  error  scope. — Pray,  at  what  time 
Gave  you  me  entertainment  the  last  night  ? 

Ale.  As  though   you  know  not.     Well,  I'll  fit  your 
humour, 


120  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

And  tell  you  what  you  better  know  than  I. 
At  midnight. 

Amph.  At  midnight. — Pray,  observe  that,  gentlemen. 
At  midnight  we  were  in  discourse  aboard 
Of  my  commission. 

2  Capt.  I  remember 't  well. 

Amph.  What  did  we,  then,  at  midnight  ? 

Ale.  Sate  to  banquet. 

1  Serv.  Where  I  waited. 

2  Serv.  So  did  we  all. 

Amph.  And  I  was  there  at  banquet? 

3  Serv.  Your  lordship's  merry.     Do  you  make  ques- 
tion of  that  ? 

Ale.  At  banquet  you  discours'd  the  interview 
Between  the  Teleboans  and  your  host. 

Amph.  Belike,  then,  you  can  tell  us  our  success, 
Ere  we,  that  are  the  first  to  bring  the  news, 
Can  utter  it. 

Ale.  Your  lordship's  pleasant  still. 
The  battles  join'd,  cries  past  on  either  side ; 
Long  was  the  skirmish  doubtful,  till  the  Thebans 
Oppress'd  the  Teleboans ;  but  the  battle 
Was  by  the  king  renew'd,  who,  face  to  face, 
And  hand  to  hand,  met  with  Amphitrio. 
You  fought,  and  arm  to  arm  in  single  combat 
Trod  on  his  head  a  victor. 

Amph.  How  came  you  by  this? 

Ale.  As  though  you  told  it  not. 

Amph.  Well,  then;  after  banquet ? 

Ale.  We  kiss'd,  embrac'd,  our  chamber  was  made 
ready. 

Amph.  And  then  ? 

Ale.  To  bed  we  went. 

Amph.  And  there? 

Ale.  You  slept  in  these  my  arms. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  121 

Amph.  Strumpet,  no  more  ! 
Madness  and  impudence  contend  in  thee, 
Which  shall  afflict  me  most. 

Ale.  Your  jealousy 

And  this  imposterous  wrong  heap  on  me  injuries 
More  than  my  sex  can  bear.     You  had  best  deny 
The  gift  you  gave  me,  too. 

Amph.  Oh,  heaven!  what  gift? 

Ale.  The  golden  cup  the  Teleboans'  king 
Us'd  still  to  quaff  in. 

A  mph.  Indeed,  I  had  such  a  purpose ; 
But  that  I  keep  safe  lock'd. — Show  me  the  bowl. 

Ale.  Thessala,  the  standing  cup  Amphitrio  gave  me 
Last  night  at  banquet :  there's  the  key. 

Thess.  I  shall.  \Exit.~\ 

1  Copt.  My  lord,  there's   much   amazement  in  the 

opening 
Of  these  strange  doubts :  the  more  you  seek  to  unfold 

them, 
The  more  they  puzzle  us. 

2  Copt.  How  came  she  by  the  notice 
And  true  recital  of  the  battle's  fortune  ? 

Amph.  That  hath  this  villain  told  her,  on  my  life. 
Soc.  Not  I :  I  disclaim  it.     Unless  it  were  my  other 
self,  I  have  no  hand  in  it. 

Enter  THESSALA,  with  the  cup. 

Thess.  Madam,  the  bowl. 

A  le.  Restore 't  Amphitrio  : 
I  am  not  worthy  to  be  trusted  with  it. 

Amph.  The  form,  the  metal,  and  the  graving,  too ! 
Tis  somewhat  strange. — Socia,  the  casket,  straight. 

Soc.  Here,  sir. 

Amph.  What !  is  my  signet  safe? 

Soc.  Untouched. 


122  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Amph.  Then  will  I  show  her  straight  that  bowl 
The  Teleboans  gave  me. — Where's  my  key  ? 

Soc.  Here,  sir. — This  is  the  strangest  that  e'er  I 
heard  !  I,  Socia,  have  begot  another  Socia ;  my  Lord 
Amphitrio  hath  begot  another  Amphitrio :  now,  if  this 
golden  bowl  have  begot  another  golden  bowl,  we  shall 
be  all  twinned  and  doubled. 

Amph.  Behold  !  an  empty  casket. 

Ale.  This  notwithstanding,  you  deny  your  gift, 
Our  meeting,  banquet,  and  our  sportful  night ; 
Your  morning's  parting ! 

Amph.  All  these  I  deny, 
As  false  and  past  all  nature.     Yet  this  goblet 
Breeds  in  me  wonder,  with  the  true  report 
Of  our  war's  project.     But  I  am  myself, 
New  landed  with  these  Captains,  and  my  men 
Deny  all  banquets  and  affairs  of  bed, 
Which  thou  shalt  dearly  answer. 

Ale.  Ask  your  servants 
If  I  mis-say  in  aught. 

1  Sens.  My  lord,  there  is  nothing  said  by  my  lady 
but  we  are  eye-witnesses  of,  and  will  justify  on  our 
oaths. 

Amph.  And  will  you  tempt  me  still? — 
Socia,  run  to  the  ship ;  bring  me  the  master, 
And  he  shall  with  these  Captains  justify 
On  my  behalf,  whilst  I  revenge  myself 
On  these  false  servants,  that  support  their  lady 
In  her  adulterous  practice. — Villains !     Dogs ! 

1  Copt.  Patience,  my  lord. 

[AMPHITRIO  beats  in  his  men.     Exeunt. 

Ale.  Nay,  let  him  still  proceed, 
That,  having  kill'd  them,  I  may  likewise  bleed. 
His  frenzy  is  my  death :  life  I  despise : 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  1 23 

These  are  the  fruits  of  idle  jealousies. 
Yonder  he  comes  again. 

Enter  JUPITER. 

So  soon  appeas'd, 

And  from  his  fury  ?     I  shall  ne'er  forget 

This  injury,  till  I  have  paid  his  debt. 

Jup.  What !  sad,  Alcmena  ?     Prithee,  pardon  me : 
'Twas  but  my  humour,  and  I  now  am  sorry. 
Nay,  whither  turn'st  thou  ? 

Ale.  All  the  wit  I  have 
I  must  express :  born  to  be  made  a  slave, 
I  wonder  you  can  hold  your  hands,  not  strike. 
If  I  a  strumpet  be,  and  wrong  your  bed, 
Why  doth  not  your  rude  hand  assault  this  head  ? 

Jup.  Oh,  my  sweet  wife !  of  what  I  did  in  sport 
Condemn  me  not.     If  needs,  then  chide  me  for  't. 

Ale.  Was  it  because  I  was  last  night  too  free 
Of  courteous  dalliance,  that  you  injure  me  ? 
Was  I  too  lavish  of  my  love  ?  next  night, 
Fear  not,  I'll  keep  you  short  of  your  delight. 
I'll  learn  to  keep  you  off,  and  seem  more  coy : 
You  shall  no  more  swim  in  excess  of  joy. 
Look  for't  hereafter. 

Jup.  Punish  me,  I  pray. 

Ale.  Give  me  my  dower,  and  I'll  be  gone  away; 
Leave  you  to  your  harsh  humours  and  base  strife : 
Only  the  honour  of  a  virtuous  wife 
I'll  bear  along.     My  other  substance  keep ; 
For  in  a  widow'd  bed  I'll  henceforth  sleep. 

Jup.  By  this  right  hand,  which  you  Amphitrio  owe, 
My  wrongs  henceforth  shall  ne'er  afflict  you  so. 
Speak ;  are  we  friends  ?     By  this  soft  kiss,  I  swear, 
No  lady  living  is  to  me  like  dear. 
These  nuptial  brawls  oftimes  more  love  beget : 


THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

The  ravishing  pleasures  when  last  night  we  met 
We  will  redouble.     These  hands  shall  not  part 
Till  we  be  reconcil'd. 

Ale.  You  have  my  heart, 
Nor  can  my  anger  last. 

Jup.  Fair  love,  then  smile, 
And  let  our  lips  our  hearts  thus  reconcile. 

Enter  BLEPHARO  and  SOCIA. 

Ble.  Thou  tell'st  me  wonders. 

Soc.  I  assure  you,  there  are  two  Socias ;  and,  for  aught 
I  can  hear,  there  are  two  Amphitrios :  we  were  in  hope 
to  have  two  golden  bowls.  Now,  if  your  ship  can  get 
two  masters,  you  will  be  simply  furnished  to  sea.  But 
see,  my  lord  and  my  lady  are  friends :  let  us  be  par- 
takers of  their  reconcilement. 

Ble.  Hail  to  the  General !     You  sent  for  me,  my  lord. 

Jup.  True,  Blepharo ; 

But  things  are  well  made  even,  and  we  attoned : 
Your  chiefest  business  is  to  feast  with  us. — 
Attend  us,  Socia. — Fair  Alcmena,  now 
We  both  are  one,  combin'd  by  oath  and  vow. 

[Exeunt. 

Soc.  There's  music  in  this.  If  they  feast,  I'll  feast 
with  them,  and  make  my  belly  amends  for  all  the  blows 
received  upon  my  back. 

Enter  GANIMEDE. 

Gan.  Jupiter  and  Alcmena  are  entered  at  the  back 
gate,  whilst  Amphitrio  is  beating  his  servants  out  at 
the  fore-gate.  All's  'in  uproar :  I  do  but  watch  to 
see  him  out  in  the  street,  to  shut  the  gates  against 
him.  But  yonder  is  Socia:  I'll  pass  by  him  without 
speaking. 

Soc.  I  should  have  seen  your  face  when  I  have  looked 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  125 

myself  in  a  glass :  your  sweet  phisnomy  should  be  of 
my  acquaintance.     I  will  not  pass  him  without  conge. 
[They  pass  with  many  strange  conges. 

Enter  AMPHITRIO,  beating  before  him  his  servants :  the 
two  Captains ;  they  meet  with  GANIMEDE. 

Amph.  Villains  !  dogs  !  devils ! 

1  Capt.  Noble  General! 

Amph.  These  wrongs  are  too  indigne. — Socia  returned. 
Where's  Blepharo? 

Gan.  I  have  sought  him  aboard;  but  he  is  in  the 
city  to  see  some  of  his  friends,  and  will  not  return  till 
dinner. — Now  for  a  trick  to  shut  the  gates  upon  him. 

[Exit. 

Amph.  Patience,  if  thou  hast  any  power  on  earth, 
Infuse  it  here,  or  I  these  hypocrites, 
These  base  suggesters  of  their  lady's  wrongs, 
Shall  to  the  death  pursue. 

2  Capt.  Find  for  their  punishment 
Some  more  deliberate  season :  sleep  upon't, 
And  by  an  order  more  direct  and  plain, 
Void  of  this  strange  confusion,  censure  them. 

Amph.  Sir,  you  advise  well.     I  will  qualify 
This  heat  of  rage.     Now  I  have  beat  them  forth, 
Let's  in  and  see  my  wife. — Socia  stolen  hence, 
And  the  gates  shut !     Let's  knock.  [Knocks. 

Enter  GANIMEDE,  above. 

Gan.  What  ruffian's  that  that  knocks?  you  think, 
belike,  the  nails  of  our  doors  are  as  saucy  as  yourself, 
that  they  need  beating. 

Amph.  Socia,  I  am  thy  lord,  Amphitrio. 

Gan.  You  are  a  fool's  head  of  your  own,  are  you 
not? 

Amph.  Ruffian  and  fool ! 


126  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Gan.  Take  coxcomb  and  ass  along,  if  you  be  not 
satisfied. 

Amph.  Do  you  condemn  me  now  ?   Pray,  gentlemen, 
Do  me  but  right :  have  I  just  cause  of  rage  ? 
Can  you,  that  have  persuaded  me  to  peace, 
Brook  this  ?     Oh  !  for  some  battering  engine  here 
To  raze  my  palace  walls,  or  some  iron  ram 
To  plant  against  these  gates. 

Gan.  Sirrah!  I  make  you  eat  these  words.  Stay 
but  till  I  come  down,  I'll  send  you  thence  with  a 
vengeance.  I  am  now  coming :  look  to't.  I'll  tickle 
you  with  your  counterfeit  companions  there.  [Exit. 

1  Capt.  This  is  too  much :  'tis  not  to  be  endured. 
Amph.  I  wish  of  heaven  to  have  no  longer  life 

Than  once  more  to  behold  him :  he  shall  pay 
For  all  the  rest. 

2  Capt.  He  promis'd  to  come  down. 

1  Capt.  And  I  think  he  will,  for  hark !  I  hear  the 
gates  open. 

Enter  SOCIA  and  BLEPHAKO. 

Amph.  Forbear  a  little :  note  the  villain's  humour. 

Soc.  All's  quiet  within.  I'll  go  help  to  fetch  my  lord's 
stuff'  from  the  ship.  But  see!  he's  out  of  the  gates 
before  us.  Which  way  came  he  ? 

Ble.  He  hath  made  haste. 

Soc.  I  think  he  hath  crept  through  the  keyhole. 

Amph.  Nay,  I'll  be  patient,  fear  not.  Note  my 
humour. — Socia  ! 

Soc.  My  lord. 

Amph.  My  honest  Blepharo,  I  talk  to  you  anon. 
My  faithful  servant,  who  pass'd  this  house  to  you, 
That  you  have  power  to  keep  the  master  out  ? 
Tell  me,  what  know  you  by  your  fair  mistress, 
That  you  call  your  lord  coxcomb  and  ass  ? — 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  127 

Nay,  I  am  patient  still. — Amphitrio's  name 
Is  here  forgot :  fool,  ruffian,  are  nothing  ; 
Them  I  pardon.     Now  you  are  down, 
When  do  you  beat  me  headlong  from  the  gate, 
And  these  my  counterfeit  companions  hence  ? 

JSoc.  Who?  I,  I!     Is  your  lordship  as  wise  as  God 
might  have  made  you  ?     I ! 

Amph.  You   see   we   are   here   still:  when  do  you 
strike  ?     What,  not  ?     Then  I'll  begin  with  you. 

Ble.  Amphitrio ! 

8oc.  My  lord's  mad.     Help,  gentlemen ! 

Ble.  If  you  be  gentlemen,  and  love  Amphitrio, 
Or  if  you  know  me  to  be  Blepharo, 
Your  master,  that  transported  you  by  sea, 
Give  not  this  madness  scope.     Upon  my  credit, 
Socia  is  guiltless  of  this  false  surmise. 

Amph.  Is  Blepharo  turn'd  mad,  too? 

Ble.  General,  no. 

It  pities  me,  that  left  you  late  so  mild, 
And  in  such  peaceful  conference  with  your  wife, 
So  suddenly  to  find  you  lunatic. — 
Pray,  help  to  bind  him,  gentlemen. 

Amph.  So,  so.     Am  I  abus'd  or  no  ?     Speak,  fellow 
soldiers. 

1  Capt.  Insufferable ;  and  yet  forbear  your  rage. 
Breathe,  breathe  upon't,  and  find  some  other  leisure 
These  errors  to  determine. 

Amph.  Well,  I  will. 

Enter  JUPITER,  ALCMENA  ;  GANIMEDE  before :  all  the 
servants  running  fearfully. 

Soc.  Yonder's  my  brother,  my  same  self ! 

Ble.  Two  Socias !  two  Amphitrios ! 

1  Capt.  Conjuring !  witchcraft ! 

Jup.  Friends,  and  my  fellow  soldiers,  you  have  dealt 


128  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Unfriendly  with  me  to  besiege  my  house 
With  these  exclaims ;  to  bring  impostors  hither. 
Is  there  no  law  in  Thebes?     Will  Creon  suffer  me, 
For  all  my  service,  to  be  injur'd  thus  ? 

Amph.  Beest  thou  infernal  hag,  or  fiend  incarnate, 
I'll  conjure  thee. 

Jup.  Friends,  I  appeal  to  you. 

When  have  you  known  me  mad  ?  when  rage  and  rave  ? 
Shall  my  humanity  and  mildness  thus 
Be  recompens'd  ?     To  be  out-bra v'd,  out-faced 
By  some  deluding  Fairy  :  to  have  my  servants 
Beat  from  my  gates  ;  my  general  house  disturb'd ; 
My  wife  full  grown  and  groaning,  ready  now 
To  invoke  Lucina,  to  be  check'd  and  scorned  ? 
Examine  all  my  deeds  :  Amphitrio's  mildness 
Had  never  reference  to  this  juggler's  rage. 

1  Capt.  Sure,  this  is  the  General!     He  was  ever  a 
mild  gentleman.     I'll  follow  him. 

2  Capt.  There  can  be  but  one  Amphitrio,  and  this 
appears  to  be  he  by  his  noble  carriage. 

Ble.  This  is  that  Amphitrio  I  conducted  by  sea. 

1  Serv.  My  lord  was  never  madman.      This  shall  be 
my  master. 

All.  And  mine. 

Ale.  This  is  my  husband. 

Soc.  I'll  e'en  make  bold  to  go  with  the  best. 

Gan.  Soft,  sir.     The  true  Socia  must  go  with  the 
true  Amphitrio. 

Amph.    Oh  !    thou    omnipotent    thunder  !    strike 

Amphitrio, 
And  free  me  from  this  labyrinth. 

Jup.  Gentlemen, 

My  house  is  free  to  you,  only  debarr'd 
These  counterfeits.     These  gates,  that  them  exclude, 
Stand  open  to  you :  enter  and  taste  our  bounty. — 


SCEXE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  129 

Attend  us. — 'Las !  poor  Amphitrio, 
I  must  confess  I  do  thee  too  much  wrong, 
To  keep  thee  in  this  maze  of  doubts  so  long, 
Which  here  shall  end  ;  for  Juno  I  espy, 
Who  all  our  amorous  pastimes  sees  from  high. 
As  she  descends,  so  must  I  mount  the  spheres, 
To  stop  her,  lest  she  thunder  in  our  ears. 

[Exeunt  all  but  AMPHITRIO  and  SOCIA. 

Amph.  What  art  thou? 

Soc.  Nay,  what  art  thou? 

Amph.  I  am  not  myself. 

Soc.  You  would  not  believe  me  when  I  said  I  was 
not  myself  j  why  should  I  believe  you  ? 

Amph.  Art  thou  Socia  ? 

Soc.  That's  more  than  I  can  resolve  you,  for  the 
world  is  grown  so  dangerous,  a  man  dares  scarce  make 
bold  with  his  own  name ;  but  I  am  he  was  sent  with  a 
letter  to  my  lady. 

Amph.  And  I  am  he  that  sent  thee  with  that  letter, 
Yet  dare  not  say  I  am  Amphitrio : 
My  wife,  house,  friends,  my  servants,  all  deny  me. 

Soc.  You  have  reason  to  love  me  the  better,  since 
none  sticks  to  you  but  I. 

Amph.  Let  all  yon  starry  structure  from  his  bases 
Shrink  to  the  earth,  that  the  whole  face  of  heaven, 
Falling  upon  forlorn  Amphitrio, 
May,  like  a  marble  monumental  stone, 
Lie  on  me  in  my  grave.     Eternal  sleep 
Cast  a  nocturnal  film  before  these  eyes, 
That  they  may  ne'er  more  gaze  upon  yon  heavens, 
That  have  beheld  my  shame :  or  sleep  or  death 
Command  me  shut  these  optic  windows  in. 
My  brain  is  coffin'd  in  a  bed  of  lead  ; 
'Tia  cold  and  heavy.     Be  my  pillow,  Socia, 
For  I  must  sleep. 

K 


130  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  II. 

Soc.  And  so  must  I. — Pray,  make  no  noise  for  waking 
me  or  my  master.  [They  sleep. 

JUNO  and  IRIS  descend  from  the  heavens. 

Juno.  Iris,  away  !  I  have  found  th'  adulterer  now. 
Since  Mercury  fair  lo's  keeper  slew, 
The  hundred-eyed  Argus,  I  have  none 
To  dog  and  watch  him  when  he  leaves  the  heavens. 
No  sooner  did  I  miss  him,  but  I  sought 
Heaven,  sea,  and  earth :  I  brib'd  the  sun  by  day, 
And  stars  by  night,  but  all  their  jealous  eyes 
He  with  thick  mists  hath  blinded,  and  so  'scaped. 
Iris,  my  rainbow,  threw  her  circle  round, 
If  he  had  been  on  earth,  to  have  clasp'd  him  in, 
And  kept  him  in  the  circle  of  her  arms, 
Till  he  had  calTd  for  Juno ;  but  her  search 
He  soon  deluded  in  his  sly  transhapes, 
And  till  I  saw  here  two  Amphitrios, 
I  had  not  once  suspected  him  in  Thebes. 
Robed  all  in  wrath,  and  clad  in  scarlet  fury, 
I  come  to  be  aveng'd  upon  that  strumpet, 
That  durst  presume  to  adulterate  Juno's  bed. 
Pull  me  from  heaven,  fair  Iris,  a  black  cloud 
From  which  I'll  fashion  me  a  beldam's  shape, 
And  such  a  powerful  charm  I'll  cast  on  her, 
As  that  her  bastard  brats  shall  ne'er  be  born, 
But  make  her  womb  their  tombs.     Iris,  away  ! 

Iris.  I  fly,  madam.  [Exit  IRIS. 

Juno.  No :  these  are  mortals  and  not  them  I  seek. 
I  fear  me,  if  he  hear  of  me  in  Thebes, 
He,  with  his  minion,  straight  will  mount  the  heavens. 
But  let  him  seat  him  on  the  loftiest  spire 
Heaven  hath,  or  place  me  in  the  lowest  hell, 
I'll  reach  him  with  my  clamours. 

Soc.  Heigho  !  now  am  I  dreamed  of  a  scold. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  131 

Enter  IRIS,  with  a  habit. 

Juno.  But  Iris  is  returned.     Rage,  feast  thy  fill, 
Till  I  the  mother  slay,  the  bastards  kill. 

[Exeunt  JUNO  and  IRIS. 

Thunder  and  lightning.  All  the  servants  run  out  of  the 
house  affrighted;  the  two  Captains  and  BLEPHARO. 
AMPHITRIO  and  SOCIA  amazedty  awake.  JUPITER 
appears  in  his  glory  under  a  rainbow.,  to  whom  they  all 
kneel. 

Jup.  The  thunderer  thunders,  and  the  lord  of  fear 
Bids  thee  not  fear  at  all,  Amphitrio. 
Jove,  that  against  the  Teleboans  gave  thee 
The  palm  of  conquest,  and  hath  crown'd  thy  brows 
With  a  victorious  wreath,  commands  thy  peace 
With  fair  Alcmena,  she  that  never  bosomed 
Mortal  save  thee.     The  errors  of  thy  servants 
Forbear  to  punish,  as  forgot  by  us, 
And  find  us  to  thy  prayers  propitious. 
Thy  wife,  full  grown,  invokes  Lucina's  aid  : 
Send  in  to  cheer  her  in  her  painful  throes. 
Hers  and  thy  orisons  we'll  bear  to  heaven ; 
And  they  in  all  your  greatest  doubts  and  fears 
Shall  have  access  to  our  immortal  ears. 

Amph.  Jove  is  our  patron  and  his  power  our  awe, 
His  majesty  our  wonder,  will  our  law. 

Jup.  Our  act  thus  ends:  we  would  have  all  things  even. 
Smile  you  on  earth,  whilst  we  rejoice  in  heaven. 

ACTUS  III.     SC^ENA  I. 
Enter  HOMER  one  way,  JUNO  another. 

Homer.  Behold  where  Juno  comes,  and  with  a  spell 
Shuts  up  the  womb  by  which  Jove's  son  must  pass. 

K2 


TITE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  IIT. 

For  whilst  she  cross-legg'd  sits,  (as  old  wives  tell, 
And  with  clutch'd  hands)  there  is  no  way,  alas  ! 
For  fair  Alcmena's  childing.     All  those  wives 
That  hear  her  painful  throes  are  in  despair ; 
Yet  in  her  womb  the  Jove-bred  issue  strives  : 
Three  days  are  past,  her  pains  still  greater  are. 
But  note  a  woman's  wit :  though  Juno  smile, 
A  beldam's  brain  the  goddess  shall  beguile.' 

Juno.  Ha !  ha  !     Now  Jove,  with  thy  omnipotence, 
Make  (if  thou  canst)  way  for  thy  bastard's  birth, 
Whose  passage  I  thus  bind ;  and  in  this  knot, 
Which,  till  their  deaths,  shall  never  be  dissolved, 
I  have  power  to  strangle  all  the  charms  of  hell. 
Nor  powers  of  heaven  shall  straight  me,  till  the  deaths 
Of  yon  adultress  and  her  mechal  brats. 
Laugh,  gods  and  men,  sea,  earth,  and  air,  make  joy, 
That  Juno  thus  Alcmena  can  destroy. 

Enter  the  Midwife,  GALANTHIS,  with  two  or  three  other 
aged  women. 

Gal.  Have  you  observed  her  to  sit  cross-legg'd  ever 
since  my  lady  began  her  travail  ?  I  suspect  witchcraft : 
I'll  have  a  trick  to  rouse  her. 

Bel.  No  doubt,  but  did  she  open  her  knees  and 
fingers,  my  lady  should  have  safe  delivery. 

Gal.  Trust  to  my  wit.  Ill  in,  and  find  a  means  to 
startle  her. 

Bel.  Note  how  the  beldam  smiles,  and  in  her  clutches 
Strangles  my  lady's  birth.  Some  friend  remove  her. 

Juno.  Ha,  ha  !  ha  !     Their  tears  my  griefs  recure  : 
Thus  I  revenge  me  of  their  deeds  impure. 

Enter  GALANTHIS,  merry. 

Gal.  Now,  Jove  be  prais'd,  and  ladies  dry  your  tears, 
And  gentle  madam  come,  rejoice  with  us. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  133 

Juno.  Why,  what's  the  matter  ? 

Gal.  I  cannot  hold  my  joy. — Thanks,  fair  Lucina, 
Goddess  of  child-birth,  Jove  and  all  be  praised, 
Alcmena  is  deliver'd,  brought  to  bed 
Of  a  fine  chopping  boy.  [JuNO  riseth. 

Juno.  Is  my  spell  fail'd  ?  how  could  I  curse  and  tear ! 

Bel.  The  witch  is  rous'd :  in,  and  see  what  news. 

Gal.  Stay,  stay :  I'll  go  see  what  comfort's  within, 
for  when  I  came  out  I  left  my  poor  lady  in  midst  of  all 
her  torment. 

Juno.  What  edge  of  steel,  or  adamantine  chain, 
Hath  forc'd  in  two  the  virtue  of  my  charm, 
Which  gods  and  devils  gave  unite  consent 
To  be  infract  ? — Oh,  powerful  Jupiter  ! 
I  fear  thy  hand's  in  this. 

Enter  GALANTHIS,  extremely  laughing. 

Bel.  How  the  witch  storms ! 

Juno.  What  means  the  wretch  to  hold  her  sides  and 

laugh, 
And  still  to  point  at  me? — How  now,  Galanthis? 

Gal.  That's  my  name,  indeed. — Hold,  heart,  hold ! — 
You  are  a  witch,  are  you  ?  You  sat  cross-legg'd,  did 
you  ?  My  lady  could  not  be  brought  to  bed,  could  she  ? 
And  now  Galanthis  hath  gulled  you,  hath  she  ? 

Juno.  The  moral? 

Gal.  I'll  tell  thee.  I,  suspecting  thy  treachery  to 
my  lady,  brought  in  counterfeit  news  she  was  brought 
to  bed,  which  you,  goody  witch,  no  sooner  heard,  but 
rose  up ;  and  no  sooner  you  had  cast  your  arms  abroad, 
but  my  lady  was  delivered  of  two  goodly  boys,  one 
like  my  Lord  Amphitrio,  but  the  other  the  bravest  chop- 
ping lad ! — Laugh  the  beldam  out  of  her  skin,  and  then 
return  to  comfort  my  lady. 

[Exeunt  GALANTHIS,  <$c. 


134  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Juno.  Oh  !  that  we  should  be  subject  to  the  Fates, 
And,  though  being  gods,  yet  by  their  power  be  crossed ! 
Galanthis,  I'll  be  first  reveng'd  on  thee, 
For  this  derision  ;  and  transform  thy  shape 
To  some  foul  monster  that  shall  bear  thy  name. 
And  are  the  bastards  born?     They  have  pass'd  the 

womb; 
They  shall  not  pass  the  cradle. — Iris,  ho ! 

Enter  IRIS. 

Iris.  Madam. 

Juno.  Fly  into  Afric:  from  the  mountain  there 
Choose  me  two  venomous  serpents,  of  the  blood 
That  Perseus  dropp'd  out  of  the  Gorgon's  head, 
When  on  his  winged  horse  with  that  new  spoil 
He  cross'd  the  Afric  climate.     Thou  shalt  know  them 
By  their  fell  poison  and  their  fierce  aspect. 
When,  Iris? 

Iris.  I  am  gone.  \_Exit.~] 

Juno.  Haste,  Iris ;  fly  with  expedition's  wings. 
These  brats  shall  die  by  their  envenom'd  stings.    [Exit.~\ 

HOMER. 

Homer.  The  jealous  goddess  in  the  chamber  throws 
The  poisonous  serpents,  who  soon  wound  and  kill 
Young  Ipectetes,  whom  Amphitrio  owes ; 
But  Hercules,  whom  Jove  with  power  doth  fill, 
You  first  shall  in  his  infant  cradle  see, 
Ere  grown  a  man,  famous  for  chivalry 

The  Nurses  bring  young  HERCULES  in  his  cradle,  and 
leave  him.  Enter  JUNO  and  IRIS  with  two  snakes, 
put  them  to  the  child,  and  depart.  HERCULES  strangles 
them.  To  them  AMPHITRIO,  admiring  the  accident. 

Homer.  He  that  could  in  his  cradle  serpents  kill, 


SCKNE  I.  THE  8ILVER  AGE.  135 

Will,  being  grown,  the  world  with  wonders  fill. 
Imagine  him  full  grown,  and  nobly  trained 
By  King  Eurystheus :  the  bold  youth  proclaims 
Pastimes  of  exercise,  where  he  hath  gained 
Chief  praise  and  palm  in  these  Olympic  games. 

Them  we  must  next,  as  his  first  grace,  present, 

With  Juno  to  his  fame  malevolent. 

Enter,  after  great  shouts  and  flourishes,  JUNO  and  King 
EURYSTHEUS. 

Juno.  Hark,  hark,  Eurystheus,  how  the  yelling  throats 
Of  the  rude  rabble  deify  his  praise : 
Their  lofty  clamours  and  their  shrill  applauses 
Strike  'gainst  the  clear  and  azure  floors  of  heaven, 
And  thence  against  the  earth  reverberate, 
That  Juno  cannot  rest  above,  nor  here, 
But  still  his  honour's  clangour  strikes  mine  ear. 

Eur.  Patience,  celestial  goddess :  as  I  wish 
Your  powerful  aidance  when  I  need  it  most, 
So  for  your  sake  I  will  impose  him  dangers, 
Such  and  so  great,  that,  without  Jove's  own  hand, 
He  shall  not  have  the  power  to  scatter  them. 

Juno.  If  neither  tyrants,  monsters,  savages, 
Giants,  nor  hell-hounds,  can  the  bastard  quell, 
Let  him  be  pash'd,  stabb'd,  strangled,  poisoned, 
Or  murder'd  sleeping.     Hark,  Eurystheus,  still 

[Shouts  within. 
How  their  wide  throats  his  high  applauses  shrill. 

Eur.  Th'  earth  shall  not  breed  a  monster,  nor  the 

heavens 
Threaten  a  danger  shall  not  task  his  life. 

Juno.  Thou  chim'st  me  sphere-like  music.     I  have 

roused 

A  monstrous  lion  that  doth  range  these  woods : 
My  dear  Eurystheus,  make  him  tug  with  him.     [Shouts. 


136  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Still  do  his  praises  make  the  heaven  resound. 
Farewell,  Eurystheus :  I'll  not  see  him  crown'd. 

[Exit  JUNO. 

Enter  the  Kings  of  Greece  to  EURYSTHEUS,  with  garlands. 
HERCULES,  THESEUS,  PERITHOUS,  PHILOCTETES, 
with  others,  from  the  Games  of  Olympus. 

1  King.  These  honour'd  pastimes  on  Olympus'  mount, 
Begun  by  thee,  the  Theban  Hercules, 
Shall  last  beyond  all  time  and  memory. 
Thou  art  unpeer'd :  all  Greece  resounds  thy  praise, 
And  crowns  thy  worth  with  these  green  wreaths  of 
bays. 

Here.  More  dear  to  me  than  the  best  golden  arch 
That  e'er  crown'd  monarch's  brow.     We  have  begun 
In  pastimes :  we'll  proceed  to  acts  more  dreadful, 
To  express  our  power  and  hardiment. 
Though  by  your  suffrage  we  have  best  deserved, 
Yet  merit  we  not  all :  these  Grecian  princes, 
Although  degreed  below  us,  did  excel : 
Though  not  as  best,  receive  as  those  did  well. 
Theseus,  Perithgus,  Philoctetes,  take 
Your  valour's  meeds :  your  praises  loud  did  sound ; 
Then,  each  one  take  from  Hercules  a  crown. 

Thes.  Brave  Theban  youth,  no  less  than  Jove's  own 

son, 

Give  Theseus  leave  both  to  admire  and  love  thee. 
Let's  henceforth  have  one  soul. 

Here.  Theseus  commands  the  heart  of  Hercules, 
And  all  my  deeds,  next  Jove  omnipotent, 
I'll  consecrate  to  thee  and  to  thy  love. 

Perith.  Though  all  unworthy  to  be  styl'd  the  friend 
Of  great  Alcides,  give  Perithous  leave 
To  do  thee  honour  and  admire  thy  worth. 

Philoc.  That  Philoctetes  begs  of  Hercules. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  137 

Thy  courtesy  equals  thy  active  power, 
And  thou  in  both  art  chief  and  patternless. 

Here.  We  prize  you  as  the  dearest  gems  of  Greece, 
And  all  the  honours  of  Alcmena's  son 
You  shall  partake ;  whilst  these  brave  Argive  kings, 
That  rang  us  plaudits  for  the  Olympic  games, 
Shall  clap  our  triumphs  'gainst  the  dreadfull'st  monsters 
Heaven  can  send  down,  or  deep  Avern  belch  forth. 
As  for  the  earth-bred  monsters,  we  have  power 
Infus'd  by  Jove  to  calm  their  insolence ; 
Nor  will  we  cease,  till  we  have  purchas'd  us 
The  name  of  tyrant-tamer  through  the  world. 

Eur.  It  glads  Eurystheus  to  be  made  so  happy 
As  to  be  tutor  to  this  noble  youth. 
Thou  hast  (witness  Olympus)  proved  thyself 
The  swiftest,  activ'st,  ablest,  strongest,  cunning'st 
In  shaft  or  dart ;  which  when  thy  step-dame,  Juno, 
Shall  understand  how  much  thou  dost  excel, 
As  'twill  please  Jove,  it  will  content  her  well. 

Here.  May  we  renown  Eurystheus  by  our  fame, 
As  we  shall  strive  to  please  that  heavenly  dame. 

Eur.  Set  on,  then,  princes,  to  the  farther  honours 
Of  this  bold  Theban.     May  he  still  proceed 
To  crown  great  Greece  with  many  a  noble  deed. 

Enter  a  Herdsman,  wounded. 

Thes.  Stay,  lords!     What  means  this  tragic   spec- 
tacle ? 
Herds.  If  Greece,   that  whilom   was   esteem'd  the 

spring 

Of  valour  and  the  well  of  chivalry, 
Can  yield  an  army  of  resolved  spirits, 
Muster  them  all  against  one  dreadful  beast, 
That  keeps  the  forests  and  the  woods  in  awe, 
Commands  the  Cleonean  continent, 


1S8  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Unpeoples  towns,  and,  if  not  interdicted, 
In  time  will  make  all  Greece  a  wilderness. 

Here.  Herdsman,  thou  hast   express'd  a  monstrous 

beast, 

Worthy  the  task  of  Jove-born  Hercules. 
What  is  the  savage  ?     Speak. 

Herds.  Whether  some  god, 
With  Greece  offended,  sends  him  as  a  murrain 
To  strike  our  herds,  or  as  a  worser  plague, 
Your  people  to  destroy,  but  a  fierce  lion 
Lives  in  the  neighbour  forest,  preying  there 
On  man  and  beast,  not  satisfied  with  both. 
Ten  herdsmen  of  my  train  at  once  he  slew, 
And  me  thus  wounded :  yet,  his  maw  uiistanch'd, 
He  still  the  thick  Nemaean  groves  doth  stray, 
As  if  the  world  were  not  sufficient  prey. 

Eur.  This  lion  were  a  task  worthy  Jove's  son. 
Oh  !  free  us  from  this  fear,  great  Hercules. 

Here.  If  he  be  denn'd,  I'll  rouse  the  monstrous  beast ; 
If  seeking  prey,  I'll  chase  him  through  the  groves, 
And,  having  overrun  the  fugitive, 
Dare  him  to  single  war.     It  fits  Jove's  son 
Wrestle  with  lions,  and  to  tug  with  bears, 
Grapple  with  dragons,  and  encounter  whales. 
Be  he  as  Jove's  own  shield  invulnerable, 
Or  be  his  breast  hoop'd  in  with  ribs  of  brass, 
Be  his  teeth  razor'd,  and  his  talons  keen, 
Sending  at  every  blow  fire  from  his  bones, 
Yet  I  ere  night  will  case  me  in  his  skin. 
This  is  a  sport 

Above  th'  Olympiads.     We  will  hunt  to-day 
Yon  fierce  Nemasan  terror,  as  a  game 
Becoming  Hercules. — Wind  horns !  away ; 
For  now  a  general  hunting  we  proclaim. 
Follow  us,  princes,  you  that  love  the  game.       [Exeunt. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  139 

Wind  horns.     Enter  JUNO,  and  IKIS  above  in  a  cloud. 

Juno.  Yon  cheerful  noise  of  hunting  tells  mine  ear 
He's  in  the  chase.     Redouble  ire  on  ire, 
And  tear  the  bastard  Theban  limb  from  limb. 
Where  art  thou,  Iris  ?     Tell  me  from  the  cloud 
Where  I  have  plac'd  thee  to  behold  the  chase. 

Iris  (aloft).  Great  Hercules 
Pursues  him  through  the  meadows,  mountains,  rocks. 

Juno.  And    flies    the   savage?     Will  he  not  turn 

head, 

Knowing  his  skin,  save  by  Jove's  thunderbolt, 
Not  to  be  pierc'd  ?     Base,  trembling,  coward  beast ! 

Iris.  Now  doth  the  lion  turn  'gainst  Hercules 
With  violent  fury :  'las,  poor  Hercules !     • 

Juno.  Gramercy,  Iris ;  I  will  crown  thy  brow 
With  a  new  case  of  stars  for  these  good  news. 

[Shouts  within. 

Iris.  Oh,  well  done,  Hercules ! 
He  shakes  him  from  his  shoulders  like  a  feather, 
And  hurls  the  lion  flat :  the  beast  again 
Leaps  to  his  throat.     Alcides  grapples  with  him : 
The  lion  now ;  now  Hercules  again ; 
And  now  the  beast.     Methinks  the  combat's  even. 

Juno.  Not  yet  destroyed  ? 

Iris.  Well  wrestled,  Hercules  !  [Shouts  within. 

He  gave  the  monstrous  lion  such  a  fall, 
As  if  a  mountain  should  o'erwhelm  withal. 
Above  him  still,  he  chokes  him  with  his  gripes, 
And  with  his  ponderous  buffets  stounds  the  beast. 

Juno.  Thus  is  my  sorrow  and  his  fame  increas'd. 

Iris.  Now  he  hath  strangled  him. 

Juno.  Iris,  descend. 

But  though  this  fail,  I'll  other  dangers  store. 
My  lion  slain,  I  will  provide  a  boar. 


140  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Enter  to  them,  at  one  door,  EUEYSTHEUS  and  the  Kings 
of  Greece ;  at  the  other,  HERCULES,  with  the  lions  head 
and  skin ;  THESEUS,  PERITHOUS,  PHILOCTETES. 

Here.  Thus  Hercules  begins  his  Jovial  tasks. 
The  horrid  beast  I  have  torn  out  of  his  skin, 
And  the  Nemsean  terror  naked  lies, 
DespoiTd  of  his  invinced  coat  of  arms. 

Juno.  This  head — oh !  were 't  the  head  of  Hercules — 
Doth  grace  Alcides'  shoulders,  and  methinks, 
Deck'd  in  these  spoils  thou  dar'st  the  god  of  arms. 

Here.  To  you,  great  Juno,  doth  Alcmena's  son 
His  high  laborious  valour  dedicate. 
You  might  have  heard  the  lion  roar  to  heaven, 
Even  to  the  high  tribunal  in  the  spheres, 
Where  you  sit  crown'd  in  stars.     We  fac'd  the  beast, 
And  when  he  fix'd  his  talons  in  our  flesh, 
We  caught  the  monster  in  our  manly  gripes, 
And  made  him  thrice  break  hold.     Long  did  we  tug 
For  eminence ;  but  when  we  prov'd  his  skin 
To  be  wound-free,  not  to  be  pierc'd  with  steel, 
We  took  the  savage  monster  by  the  throat, 
And  in  our  sinewy  puissance  strangled  him. 

Eur.  Alcides   honours    Thebes,   and    fames   whole 
Greece. 

Here.  There  shall  not  breathe  a  monster  here  un- 

awed. 

We  shall  the  world  afford  a  wonderment, 
Unparallel'd,  by  Theban  Hercules. 
This  lion's  case  shall  on  our  shoulders  hang : 
We'll  arm  our  body  with  th'  unvulner'd  skin, 
And  with  this  massy  club  all  monsters  dare. 
And  these  shall  like  a  bloody  meteor  show, 
More  dreadful  than  Orion's  naming  locks, 
T'  affright  the  giants  that  oppress  the  earth. 


SCKNli  T.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  141 

Eur.  Let  Hercules,  mean  time,  abide  with  us, 
Till  King  Eurystheus  new  achievements  find, 
Worthy  his  valour. 

Thes.  Honour  me,  great  prince, 
To  grace  my  friend  Perithous,  and  his  aid, 
To  be  at  their  high  spousals. 

Perith.  Hippodamia 
Shall  in  this  suit  assist  Perithous. 
With  us  the  Lapithes,  the  Centaurs  meet, 
Those  whom  Ixion  got  upon  a  cloud. 
They  live  amongst  the  groves  of  Thessaly, 
And  in  their  double  shapes  will  grace  our  feast. 

Here.  Perithous,  we  will  meet  the  Centaurs  there, 
And  quaff  with  them  to  Hippodamia's  health. 
But  wherefore  stands  bright  Juno  discontent  ? 

Juno.  Oh !  blame  me  not :  an  uncouth  savage  boar 
Devasts  the  fertile  plains  of  Thessaly ; 
And  when  the  people  come  to  implore  our  aid, 
There  lives  no  mortal  that  dare  undertake 
To  combat  him.     The  rough  Nemaean  lion 
Was  mild  to  this :  he  ploughs  the  forests  up ; 
His  snowy  foam  he  scatters  o'er  the  hills, 
And  in  his  course  o'erturns  the  Dodon  oalcs. 
Oh  !  let  him  die  by  mighty  Hercules. 

Here.  Eternal  goddess,  were  his  sharpen'd  teeth 
More  dreadful  than  the  fangs  of  Cerberus, 
Or  were  his  bristled  hide  Jove's  thunder  proof, 
Were  his  head  brass,  or  his  breast  doubly  plated 
With  best  Vulcanian  armour  Lemnos  yields, 
Yet  shall  his  brains  rattle  beneath  my  club. 
The  Erymanthian  forest,  where  he  dens, 
Shall  quake  with  terror  when  we  beat  the  beast ; 
And  when  we  cast  his  back  against  the  earth, 
The  ground  shall  groan  and  reel,  with  as  much  terror 
As  when  the  giant  Typhon  shakes  the  earth. 


142  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Juno.  Oh,  may'st  thou  live  the  Theban  conqueror ! — 
Die  by  the  fury  of  that  savage  swine, 
And  with  thy  carcass  glut  his  ravenous  maw. — 

Here.  Perithous,  I  will  bring  thee  to  thy  bridals 
This  huge  wild  swine,  to  feast  the  Centaurs  with. 
Diana's  wrath  shall  be  Alcides'  dish, 
Which  he'll  present  to  Hippodamia. 
Theseus  and  Philoctetes,  you  consort 
Perithous,  and  assist  the  Lapithes 
In  these  high  preparations.     We  will  take 
The  Erymanthian  forest  in  our  way. 
Let's  part :  and,  sacred  goddess,  wish  us  well 
In  our  achievements. 

Juno.  To  be  damn'd  in  hell.  [Exeunt. 

Enter  CERES,  «WC?PROSERPINE  attired  like  the  Moon,  with 
a  company  of  swains  and  country  wenches.     They  sing. 

SONG. 

With  fair  Ceres,  Queen  of  Grain, 

The  reaped  fields  we  roam,  roam,  roam : 

Each  country  peasant,  nymph,  and  swain, 
Sing  their  harvest  home,  home,  home ; 

Whilst  the  Queen  of  Plenty  hallows 

Growing  fields,  as  well  as  fallows. 

Echo,  double  all  our  lays, 

Make  the  champaigns  sound,  sound,  sound, 
To  the  Queen  of  Harvest's  praise, 

That  sows  and  reaps  our  ground,  ground,  ground. 
Ceres,  Queen  of  Plenty,  hallows 
Growing  fields,  as  well  as  fallows. 

Ceres.  As  we  are  Ceres,  queen  of  all  fertility, 
The  Earth's  sister,  aunt  to  highest  Jupiter, 
And  mother  to  this  beauteous  child,  the  Moon, 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  143 

So  will  we  bless  your  harvests,  crown  your  fields 
With  plenty  and  increase :  your  bearded  ears 
Shall  make  their  golden  stalks  of  wheat  to  bend 
Below  their  laden  riches :  with  full  sickles 
You  shall  receive  the  usury  of  their  seeds. 
Your  fallows  and  your  glebes  ourself  will  till : 
From  every  furrow  that  your  ploughshares  raze 
Upon  the  plenteous  earth,  our  sister's  breast, 
You  shall  cast  up  abundance,  for  your  gratitude 
To  Ceres  and  the  chaste  Proserpina. 

Pros.  Whilst  with  these  swains  my  mother  merry 

makes, 

And  from  their  hands  eats  cakes  of  newest  wheat, 
The  firstlings  of  their  vowed  sacrifice, 
Leave  me  behind,  to  make  me  various  garlands 
Of  all  the  choicest  flowers  these  meadows  yield, 
To  deck  my  brows,  and  keep  my  face  from  scorches 
Of  Phoebus'  rays. 

Ceres.  That  done,  return  to  us, 
Unto  our  temple,  where  we'll  feast  these  swains. 

Pros.  No  sooner  shall  fair  Flora  crown  my  temples, 
But  I  your  offerings  will  participate. 

Ceres.  Now  that  the  heavens   and  earth   are   both 

appeased, 

And  the  huge  giants  that  assaulted  Jove 
Are  slaughter'd  by  the  hand  of  Jupiter, 
We  have  leisure  to  attend  our  harmless  swains. 
Set  on,  then,  to  our  rural  ceremonies. 

Tempests  hence,  hence  wind  and  hails, 

Tares,  cockle,  rotten  showers,  showers,  showers ; 

Our  songs  shall  keep  time  with  our  flails : 

When  Ceres  sings  none  lowers,  lowers,  lowers. 

She  it  is  whose  godhead  hallows 

Growing  fields,  as  well  as  fallows.     \Exeunt,  singing. 


144  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Pros.  Oh !  may  these  meadows  ever  barren  be, 
That  yield  of  flowers  no  more  variety. 
Here  neither  is  the  white  nor  sanguine  rose, 
The  strawberry  flower,  the  panze,  nor  violet. 
Methinks  I  have  too  poor  a  meadow  chose : 
Going  to  beg,  I  am  with  a  beggar  met, 
That  wants  as  much  as  I.     I  should  do  ill 
To  take  from  them  that  need :  here  grow  no  more 
Than  serve  thine  own  despoiled  breast  to  fill. 
The  meads  I  rob  shall  yield  me  greater  store. 
Thy  flowers  thou  canst  not  spare.     Thy  bosom  lend, 
On  which  to  rest  while  Phoebus  doth  descend. 

\_She  lies  down. 

Thunder.    Enter  PLUTO  ;  his  chariot  drawn  in  by  Devils. 

Pluto.  What  hurly-burly  hath  been  late  in  heaven ! 
Against  our  brother,  Jove  omnipotent, 
The  giants  have  made  war :  great  Briareus, 
Whose  hundred  hands  a  hundred  swords  at  once 
Have  brandish'd  against  heaven,  is  topsy  turned, 
And  tumbled  headlong  from  th'  Olympic  towers ; 
But  big-limb'd  Typhon,  that  assaulted  most, 
And   hurl'd  huge   mountains  'gainst  heaven's   crystal 

gates, 

To  shatter  them,  wrestled  with  Jove  himself, 
Whose  heels  tripp'd  up  kick'd  'gainst  the  firmament, 
And  falling  on  his  back,  spread  thousand  acres 
Of  the  affrighted  earth :  astonish'd  Jupiter, 
Lest  he  should  rise  to  make  new  uproars  there, 
On  his  right  hand  the  mount  Pelorus  hurled ; 
Upon  his  left,  spacious  Pachinne  lies, 
And  on  his  legs  the  land  of  Lilybe. 
His  head  the  ponderous  mountain  ^Etna  crowns, 
From  which  the  giant  breathes  infernal  fires, 
And  struggling  to  be  freed  from  all  these  weights, 


SCENIC  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  145 

Makes,  as  he  moves,  huge  earthquakes  that  shake  the 

earth, 

And  make  our  kingdoms  tremble.     Frighted  thence, 
We  have  made  ascent,  to  take  a  free  survey 
Whether  the  world's  foundations  still  be  firm ; 
Lest,  being  crannied,  through  these  concave  cliffs 
The  sun  and  stars  may  shine  to  lighten  hell. 
All's  sound :  we  have  struck  th'  earth's  bases  with  our 

mace, 

And  found  the  centre  firm.     Our  iron  chariot, 
That  from  his  shod  wheels  rusty  darkness  flings, 
Hath  with  our  weight  prov'd  mountains,   dales,  and 

rocks, 

And  found  them  nowhere  hollow.     All  being  well, 
We'll  cleave  the  earth,  and  sink  again  to  hell. 

Pros.  Ceres ! — Oh,  help  me,  father  Jupiter  ! 
Yon  ugly  shape  affrights  me. 

Pluto.  Ha!     What's  the  matter  ? 
Who  breath'd  that  well-tun'd  shriek? — Sweet  shape, 

bright  beauty ! 

Pluto's  heart  was  never  soft  till  now. 
Fair  mortal ! 

Pros.  Hence,  foul  fiend. 

Pluto.  By  Lethe,  Styx,  Cocytus,  Acheron, 
And  all  the  terrors  our  black  region  yields, 
I  see  and  love,  and  at  one  instant  both. 
Kiss  me. 

Pros.  Out  on  thee,  hell-hound ! 

Pluto.  What  are  you,  beauteous  goddess  ? 

Pros.  Nothing. — Oh  ! 
Help,  mother !  father  !  Ceres  !  Jupiter ! 

Pluto.  Be  what   thou  canst,  thou  now  art  Pluto's 

rape, 
And  shalt  with  me  to  Orcus. 

Pros.  Claws  off,  devil ! 

L 


146  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Pluto.  Fetch   from   my   sister,    Night,   a   cloud   of 

darkness 

To  robe  me  in ;  in  that  I'll  hide  this  beauty 
From  gods  and  mortals,  till  I  sink  to  hell. — 
Nay,  you  shall  mount  my  chariot. 

Pros.  Ceres!     Jove! 

Pluto.  Ceres,  nor  Jove,  nor  all  the  gods  above, 
Shall  rob  me  this  rich  purchase. — Yoke  my  stallions, 
That  from  their  nostrils  breathe  infernal  fumes, 
And  when  they  gallop  through  these  upper  worlds 
With  fogs  choke  Phoebus,  chase  the  stars  from  heaven, 
And  while  my  ebon  chariot  o'er  the  rocks 
Clatters  his  iron  wheels,  make  a  noise  more  hideous 
Than  Panomphaeus'  thunder. 

Pros.  Help,  heaven  !  help,  earth  ! 

Pluto.  Cleave,  earth ;  and  when  I  stamp  upon  thy 

breast, 

Sink  me,  my  brass-shod  waggon  and  myself, 
My  coach-steeds,  and  their  traces,  altogether, 
O'er  head  and  ears  in  Styx. 

Pros.  You  gods !  you  men ! 

Pluto.  Eternal  darkness  clasp  me  where  I  dwell. 
Saving  these  eyes,  we'll  have  no  light  in  hell. 

\Exeunt. 

Enter  CERES. 

Ceres.  Where  is  my  fair  and  lovely  Proserpine  ? 
The  feast  is  done,  and  she  not  yet  return'd  ! 
Speak,  Jove's  fair  daughter,  whither  art  thou  strayed  ? 
I  have  sought  the  meadows,  glebes,  and  new-reap'd 

fields, 

And  cannot  find  my  child.     Her  scatter'd  flowers 
And  garland  half  made  up  I  have  lit  upon, 
But  her  I  cannot  spy.     Behold !  the  trace 
Of  some  strange  waggon,  that  hath  scorch'd  the  fields, 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  147 

And   sing'd   the   grass.      These   ruts   the   sun   ne'er 

seared. 

Where  art  thou,  love  ?     Where  art  thou,  Proserpine  ? 
Hath  not  thy  father,  Jove,  snatch'd  thee  to  heaven 
Upon  his  eagle  ?     I  will  search  the  spheres 
But  I  will  find  thee  out. — Swift  Mercury, 
Jove's  son  and  Mayas !  speak,  speak,  from  the  clouds, 
And  tell  me  if  my  daughter  be  above. 

MERCURY  flies  from  above. 

Mer.  Thy   clamours,    Ceres,   have    ascent    through 

heaven ; 

Which  when  I  heard,  as  swift  as  lightning 
I  searched  the  regions  of  the  upper  world, 
And  every  place  above  the  firmament. 
I   have  pass'd  the  planets,   soar'd    quite   through  the 

spheres ; 

I  have  cross'd  the  Arctic  and  Antarctic  poles ; 
Hot  Cancer  and  cold  Arctos  have  I  search'd ; 
Past  th'  Hyperboreans  and  the  solstices, 
The  tropics,  zones,  signs,  zeniths,  circles,  lines, 
Yet  nowhere  can  I  find  fair  Proserpine. 

\Exit  MERCURY. 

Ceres.  If  not  in  heaven,  I'll  next  inquire  the  earth ; 
And  to  the  place  where  old  Oceanus 
Lays  his  hoar  head  on  Amphitrite's  lap, 
I'll  travel,  till  I  find  my  girl. 
Assist  me,  gracious  Neptune,  in  my  search ; 
And  Triton,  thou  that  on  thy  shelly  trumpet 
Summons  the  sea-gods,  answer  from  the  depth, 
If  thou  hast  seen  or  heard  of  Proserpine. 

Enter  TRITON,  with  his  trump,  as  from  the  sea. 

Trlt.  On    Neptune's    sea-horse,    with    my    concave 
trump, 

L  2 


118  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Through   all  th' abyss  I  have   shrill'd  thy  daughter's 

loss; 

The  channels  cloth'd  in  waters,  the  low  cities, 
In  which  the  water-nymphs  and  sea-gods  dwell, 
I  have  perus'd ;  sought  through  whole  woods  and  forests 
Of  leafless  coral  planted  in  the  deeps ; 
Toss'd  up  the  beds  of  pearl,  rous'd  up  huge  whales 
And  stern  sea-monsters  from  their  rocky  dens ; 
Those  bottoms  bottomless,  shallows,  and  shelves, 
And  all  those  currents  where  th'  earth's  springs  break  in ; 
Those  plains  where  Neptune  feeds  his  porpoises, 
Sea-morses,  seals,  and  all  his  cattle  else : 
Through  all  our  ebbs  and  tides  my  trump  hath  blaz'd 

her, 
Yet  can  no  cavern  show  me  Proserpine. 

[Exit  TRITON. 
Ceres.  If  heaven  nor  sea,  then,  search  thy  bosom, 

Earth. 

Fair  sister  Earth,  for  these  beauteous  fields 
Spread  o'er  thy  breast ;  for  all  these  fertile  crops 
With  which  my  plenty  hath  enrich'd  thy  bosom ; 
For  all  those  rich  and  pleasant  wreaths  of  grain 
With  which  so  oft  thy  temples  I  have  crowned ; 
For  all  the  yearly  liveries  and  fresh  robes 
Upon  thy  summer  beauty  I  bestow, 
Show  me  my  child  ! 

EARTH  risethfrom  under  the  Stage. 

Earth.  Not  in  revenge,  fair  Ceres, 
That  your  remorseless  ploughs  have  rak'd  my  breast, 
Nor  that  your  iron-tooth'd  harrows  print  my  face 
So  full  of  wrinkles,  that  you  dig  my  sides 
For  marl  and  soil,  and  make  me  bleed  my  springs 
Through  all  my  open'd  veins,  to  weaken  me, 
Do  I  conceal  your  daughter.     I  have  spread 


SCKNK  I.  THE  SILVEK  AGE.  149 

My  arms  from  sea  to  sea,  look'd  o'er  my  mountains, 
Examin'd  all  my  pastures,  groves,  and  plains, 
Marshes,  and  wolds,  my  woods  and  champain  fields, 
My  dens  and  caves ;  and  yet,  from  foot  to  head, 
I  have  no  place  on  which  the  Moon  doth  tread. 

[EARTH  sinks. 
Ceres.  Then,    Earth,   thou   hast  lost  her ;    and  for 

Proserpine 

I'll  strike  thee  with  a  lasting  barrenness. 
No  more  shall  plenty  crown  thy  fertile  brows : 
I'll  break  thy  ploughs,  thy  oxen  murrain-strike ; 
With  idle  agues  I'll  consume  thy  swains ; 
Sow  tares  and  cockles  in  thy  lands  of  wheat, 
Whose  spikes  the  weed  and  couch-grass  shall  outgrow, 
And  choke  it  in  the  blade.     The  rotten  showers 
Shall  drown  thy  seed,  which  the  hot  sun  shall  parch, 
Or  mildews  rot ;  and  what  remains  shall  be 
A  prey  to  ravenous  birds. — Oh,  Proserpine  ! — 
You  gods  that  dwell  above,  and  you  below, 
Both  of  the  woods  and  gardens,  rivers,  brooks, 
Fountains,  and  wells,  some  one  among  you  all 
Show  me  herself,  or  grave !     To  you  I  calL 

The  river  ARETHUSA  risethfrom  the  Stage. 

Areth.  That  can  the  river  Arethusa  do. 
My  streams,  you  know,  fair  goddess,  issue  forth 
From  Tartary,  by  the  Tenarian  isles. 
My  head's  in  hell,  where  Stygian  Pluto  reigns : 
There  did  I  see  the  lovely  Proserpine, 
Whom  Pluto  hath  rap'd  hence :  behold  her  girdle, 
Which  by  the  way  dropp'd  from  her  beauteous  waist, 
And  scatter'd  in  my  streams.     Fair  Queen,  adieu. 
Crown  you  my  banks  with  flowers,  as  I  tell  true. 

[Exit  AUETIIUSA. 

Ceres.  Hath  that  infernal  monster  stolen  my  child  ? 


150  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

I'll  mount  the  spheres,  and  there  solicit  Jove 

To  invade  the  Stygian  kingdoms,  to  redeem 

My  ravish'd  daughter.     If  the  gods  deny 

That  grace  to  Ceres,  I'll  invoke  the  help 

Of  some  bold  mortal — noble  Hercules, 

Who  with  his  club  shall  rouse  th'  infernal  king, 

Drag  out  the  furies  with  their  snaky  locks, 

Strangle  hell's  judges  in  their  scarlet  robes, 

And  bring  a  double  terror  to  the  damned. 

Of  gods  and  men  I  will  invoke  the  aids, 

To  free  my  child  from  those  infernal  shades.        \_Exit.~\ 

.filter  HERCULES,  THESEUS,  PIRITHOUS,PHILOCTETES, 
HIPPODAMIA,  the  Centaurs,  NESSUS,  EURYTUS,  CHI- 
RON, CYLLARUS,  ANTIMACHUS,  SILANTHUS,  HIP- 
PASUS  ;  at  a  banquet. 

Here.  To  grace  this  feast,  fair  Hippodamia, 
The  Erymanthian  forest  we  have  robbed 
Of  that  huge  boar. — You  Centaurs,  doubly  shaped, 
Feed  with  Alcides  on  that  monstrous  swine, 
That  hath  devour'd  so  many  swains  and  herds. 

Thes.  Take  Theseus'  welcome,  for  Pirithous'  sake, 
And  sit  with  us,  fair  princes :  take  your  place 
Next  you  Alcides ;  then,  the  Centaurs  round. 

Antim.  Now,  by  Ixion,  that  our  grandsire  was, 
That  dar'd  to  kiss  the  mighty  Thunderer's  wife, 
And  did  not  fear  to  cuckold  Jupiter, 
Thou  dost  the  Centaurs  honour. 

Ness.  Let's  quaff'  the  bride's  health  in  the  blood  of 

grapes. 
Wine  begets  mirth,  and  mirth  becomes  a  bridal. 

Pirith.  Fill,  then,  for  Nessus  and  Antimachus : 
Let  Eurytus  and  Chiron  pledge  it  round. 

Eur.  Fill  to  us  all,  even  till  these  empty  bowls 
Turn  up  their  bottoms  'gainst  the  face  of  heaven. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  151 

Chi.  Off  shall  all  this  to  Hippodamia's  health, 
The  beauteous  bride.     Wilt  pledge  it,  Hercules  ? 

Here.  Yes,  were  it  deeper  than  the  golden  cup 
Jove  quaffs  in  from  the  hand  of  Ganymede. 
Silanthus,  Hippasus,  and  Cyllarus, 
To  the  fair  princess  of  the  Lapithes. 

Antim.  She's  fair,  indeed;  I  love  her:  wine  and  love 
Add  fire  to  fire.     To  Philoctetes  this. 

Philoc.  'Tis  welcome.     Hippasus  !  here,  Cyllarus  ! 

Cyl.  Fair  Hippodamia's  of  the  Centaur's  brood, 
Great  Bistus'  daughter,  near  allied  to  us ; 
I'll  take  her  health. 

Pirith.  Gramercy,  Cyllarus. 
I'll  do  the  like  to  fair  Philonome, 
Thy  sweet  she-Centaur. 

Cyl.  Double  this  to  her. 

Hipp.  Crown  all  your  healths  with  mirth ;  let  joys 

abound, 
And  to  Philonome  let  this  go  round. 

Antim.  Gramercies. — 'Las,  my  brain  begins  to  swim. 
I  have  an  appetite  to  kiss  the  bride ; 
Ay,  and  I  will. 

Thes.  What  means  Antimachus  ? 

Antim.  Kiss  Hippodamia  I,  and 

Thes.  That's  too  much, 
And  more  than  any  of  the  Centaurs  dare. 

Cyl.  Why,  who  should  hinder  him  ? 

Thes.  That  Theseus  will. 

Antim.  Ha,  ha !     Have  I  from  the  fierce  lion  torn 

her  whelp, 

Brought  from  the  forest  she  bears  in  my  arms, 
And  dandled  them  like  infants,  play'd  with  them, 
And  shall  I  not,  then,  dare  to  kiss  the  bride  ? 

Here.  Audacious  Centaur  !  do  but  touch  her  skirt, 
Profane  that  garment  Hymen  hath  put  on, 


152  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  III. 

Or  with  thy  hideous  shape  once  near  her  cheek, 
I'll  lay  so  huge  a  ponder  on  thy  scull, 
As  if  the  bases  of  the  heaven  should  shrink, 
And  whelm  o'er  thee  the  marble  firmament. 
Antim.  That  will  I  try. 
Cyl.  Assist  Antimachus ! 
Pirith.  Rescue  for  Hippodamia  ! 
Chi.  Down  with  the  Lapithes  ! 
Ness.  Down  with  Hercules  ! 

\_A  confused  fray r,  with  stools,  cups,  and  bowls : 

the  Centaurs  are  beaten. 

Here.  You  cloud-bred  race,  Alcides  here  will  stand, 
To  plague  you  all  with  his  high  Jovial  hand. 

\_Exeunt  omnes.~\ 

Alarum.     Enter  JUNO,  with  all  the  Centaurs. 

Juno.  And  shrinks  Ixion's  race  ?     Durst  he  aspire 
To  our  celestial  bed,  though  for  his  boldness 
He  now  be  tortur'd  with  the  wheel  in  hell, 
And  dare  not  you  withstand  base  Hercules  ? 
Courage,  brave  Hippo- centaurs  !  let  the  bastard 
Be  hew'd  and  mangled  by  our  conquering  arm. 
Renew  the  fight:  make  the  Thessalian  fields 
Thunder  beneath  your  hoofs,  whilst  they  imprint 
Upon  the  earth  deep  semi-circled  moons. 
Let  all  your  arm'd  race  gallop  from  the  hills 
To  immure  the  faint,  dejected  Lapithes. 
'Tis  Juno,  whom  your  tortur'd  grandsire  lov'd, 
Bids  you  to  arms.     Lift  up  your  weapons  high, 
And  in  their  fall  may  great  Alcides  die. 

Antim.  Our  grandsire's  wheel  crack  all  that  Centaur's 

bones 

That  flies  when  Juno  gives  encouragement. 
Chiron,  Latreus,  Nessus,  Eurytus, 
And  all  our  race,  first  tumbled  in  the  clouds 


THE  SILVER  AGE.  153 

That  crowrTd  the  mountain- tops  of  Thessaly, 

Make  head  again :  follow  Antimachus, 

Whose  brain  through  heated  with  the  fumes  of  wine, 

Burns  with  the  love  of  Hippodamia. 

Theseus,  Pirithous,  and  Alcides,  all, 

Shall  in  this  fury  by  the  Centaurs  fall. 

Alarum.     Enter  to  them   HERCULES,   THESEUS,   PI- 
RITHOUS, and  PHILOCTETES. 

Here.  Behold,  the  lust-burn'd  and  wine-heated  mon- 
sters 
Once  more  make  head.     We'll   pash  them  with  our 

club. 

This  Centaur-match,  it  shall,  in  ages 
And  times  to  come,  renown  great  Hercules. 
Upon  them  !     When  we  parley  with  our  foes, 
Tongues  peace  !  for  we  break  silence  with  our  blows. 

Alarum.  They  fight :  the  Centaurs  are  all  dispersed  and 
slain.  Enter,  with  victory,  HERCULES,  THESEUS, 
PIRITHOUS,  PHILOCTETES,  HIPPODAMIA,  and  others. 

Here.  Let  Thessaly  resound  Alcides'  praise, 
And  all  the  two-shap'd  Centaurs  that  survive 
Quake  when  they  hear  the  name  of  Hercules. 
Were  these  Thessalian  monsters  bred  at  first 
By  Saturn  and  Philyra,  as  some  say, 
When  in  equinal  shape  she  was  deflowered? 
Or  when  Ixion,  snatch'd  to  heaven  by  Jove, 
And  feasted  in  the  high  Olympic  hall, 
He  sought  to  strumpet  Juno  ?     The  heaven's  Queen 
Transform'd  a  cloud  to  her  celestial  shape, 
Of  which  he  got  the  Centaurs.     Be  they  bred 
Of  earth  or  vapour,  their  hot,  fiery  brains 
Are  now  dispurpled  by  Alcides'  club, 
And  in  their  deaths  renown  the  Lapithes. 


154  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  111. 

Thes.  Jove's  son  was  born  a  terror  to  the  world, 
To  awe  the  tyrants  that  oppress  and  sway. 

Pirith.  But  most  in  debt  to  thee  Pirithous  is, 
That  hast  restor'd  a  virgin  and  a  bride, 
Pure  and  untouch'd,  to  sleep  in  these  my  arms. 

Hipp.  My  tongue  shall  sound  the  praise  of  Hercules, 
My  heart  embrace  his  love. 

Here.  Oh !  had  bright  Juno, 
My  loving  step-dame,  seated  in  the  clouds, 
Beheld  me  pash  the  Centaurs  with  my  club, 
It  would  have  fill'd  her  with  celestial  joys, 
Knowing  that  all  my  deeds  of  fame  and  honour 
I  consecrate  to  her  and  Jupiter. 
Of  these  proud  Centaurs  Nessus  is  escaped ; 
The  rest  all  strew  the  fields  of  Thessaly. 

Enter  CERES. 

Ceres.  Reserves  the  noble  Theban  all  his  valour 
For  th'ingrate  Juno,  and  hath  stor'd  no  deed 
Of  honour  for  dejected  Ceres,  here  ? 
Ceres,  forlorn,  forsaken,  and  despised, 
Whom  neither  obdure  heaven,  relentless  sea, 
Nor  the  rude  earth  will  pity. 

Here.  Queen  of  Plenty, 
Lie  it  within  the  strength  of  mortal  arm, 
The  power  of  man,  or  work  of  demigod, 
I  am  thy  champion. 

Ceres.  From  heaven,  earth,  and  sea, 
Then,  Ceres  must  appeal  to  Hercules. 
Know,  then,  I  am  robb'd  of  beauteous  Proserpine : 
Tartarian  Dis  hath  rap'd  my  daughter  hence ; 
Which  when  I  heard,  I  scal'd  the  thunder'd  throne, 
And  made  my  plaints  to  him,  who  answer'd  me, 
His  power  was  only  circumscrib'd  in  heaven, 
And  Pluto  was  as  absolute  in  hell, 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  155 

As  he  in  heaven ;  nor  would  he  muster  gods 
Against  the  fiends,  o'er  which  his  brother  reign'd. 
Next  made  I  suit  to  have  Neptune  call  his  waters, 
And  with  his  billows  drown  the  lower  world ; 
Who  answer'd,  the  firm  channel  bounds  his  waves, 
Nor  is  there  passage  between  sea  and  hell. 
The  earth  beneath  her  centre  cannot  sink, 
Nor  have  I  hope  from  thence ;  only  great  Hercules. 

Here.  We'll  undertake  what  neither  Jupiter, 
Neptune,  nor  all  the  gods  dare  make  their  task. 
The  Stygian  Pluto  shall  restore  the  Moon, 
Or  feel  the  mass  of  this  my  ponderous  club. 
Comfort,  fair  Queen :  I'll  pass  the  pool  of  Styx ; 
And  if  lean  Charon  waftage  shall  deny, 
The  ferryman  I'll  buffet  in  his  barge. 
Three-throated  Cerberus,  that  keeps  hell-gates, 
Shall,  when  we  come  to  knock,  not  dare  to  howl. 
The  ghosts,  already  dead  and  doom'd,  shall  fear 
To  die  again  at  sight  of  Hercules. 
Stern  Minos,  .^Eachus,  and  Rhadamanth, 
Shall,  from  the  dreadful  sessions  kept  in  hell, 
Be  rous'd  by  us :  we'll  quake  them  at  that  bar, 
Where  all  souls  stand  for  sentence :  the  three  sisters 
Shall  crouch  to  us.     Ceres,  we'll  ransack  hell, 
And  Pluto  from  th'  infernal  vaults  expel. 

Tk-es.  Theseus  in  this  will  aid  great  Hercules. 

Pirith.  And  so  Pirithous  shall. 

Here.  Comfort,  Queen  Ceres. 
Whom  neither  harpies,  boars,  or  bulls  can  tame, 
The  dark  Cimmerians  must  next  sound  his  fame. — 
Adieu,  bright  Hippodamia,  lately  freed 
From  the  adulterous  Centaurs.     Our  renown, 
That  yet  'tween  heaven  and  earth  doth  only  shine, 
Hell  shall  next  blaze  for  beauteous  Proserpine. 


156  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

ACTUS  IV.     SCJENA  I. 
HOMER. 

Homer.  Ere  Hercules  the  Stygian  pools  invade, 
A  task  which  none  but  he  durst  undertake 
Without  both  earthly  and  immortal  aid, 
We  Jove  present ;  who  once  more  doth  forsake 
Heaven  for  a  mortal  beauty.     One  more  rare 
Earth  yielded  not  than  Semele  the  fair. 

Whilst  Juno  Hercules  with  hate  pursues, 
Neglecting  Jove,  he  from  the  spheres  espies 
This  bright  Cadmeian,  and  the  groves  doth  choose 
To  court  her  in.     How,  and  in  what  disguise, 
You  next  shall  see :  they  meet  first  in  the  chase, 
Where  they  discourse,  acquaint,  kiss,  and  embrace. 

Dumb  show.  Enter  SEMELE,  like  a  huntress,  with  her 
train ;  JUPITER  like  a  woodman,  in  green.  He  woos 
her,  and  wins  her. 

What  cannot  Jove,  infus'd  with  power  divine  ? 

He  woos  and  wins,  enjoys  the  beauteous  dame. 

The  jealous  Juno  spies  their  love  in  fine, 

Leaves  off  her  envy  to  Alcides'  fame, 

And  'gainst  this  beauteous  lady  arms  her  spleen, 
Quite  to  destroy  the  bright  Cadmeian  Queen. 

Your  favours  still :  some  here,  no  doubt,  will  wonder 
To  see  the  Thunderer's  love  perish  by  thunder. 

\_Exit."\ 
Enter  JUNO  and  IRIS. 

Juno.  Hast  thou  found  him,  Iris  ? 
Iris.  Madam,  I  have. 
Juno.  Where? 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  157 

Iris.  In  the  house  of  Cadmus,  courting  there 
The  fairest  of  the  race,  young  Semele. 

Juno.  What  am  I  better  to  be  queen  of  heaven, 
To  be  the  sister  and  the  wife  of  Jove, 
When  every  strumpet  braves  my  deity  ? 
Whilst  I  am  busied  to  lay  traps  and  trains 
For  proud  Alcmena's  bastard,  he  takes  time 
For  his  adulterous  rapes.     Europa  lives, 
Sainted  in  earth :  Calisto  shines  a  star, 
Just  in  mine  eye,  by  name  of  Lesser  Bear: 
lo  in  Egypt  is  ador'd  a  goddess ; 
And  of  my  servant  Argus  (slain  by  Mercury) 
There  lives  no  note,  save  that  his  hundred  eyes 
I  have  transported  to  my  peacock's  train. 
Thus  fall  the  friends  of  Juno,  whilst  his  strumpets 
Front  me  on  earth,  or  brave  mine  eye  in  heaven. 
But  Semele  shall  pay  for't. — In  what  shape 
Saw'st  thou  him  court  that  strumpet  ? 

Iris.  Like  a  woodman. 

Juno.  I  met  him  on  the  mountain  Ericine, 
And  took  him  for  the  young  Hippolytus. 
Iris,  I  have't :  'tis  plotted  in  my  brain, 
To  have  the  strumpet  by  her  lover  slain. 
Of  her  nurse,  Beroe,  I'll  assume  the  shape, 
And  by  that  means  avenge  me  on  this  rape.      [Exeunt. 

Enter  SEMELE,  with  her  Servants  and  Attendants. 

Sent.  Oh,  Jupiter  !  thy  love  makes  me  immortal. 
The  high  Cadmeian  is  in  my  grace 
To  that  great  god  exalted,  and  my  issue, 
When  it  takes  life,  shall  be  the  seed  of  gods ; 
And  I  shall  now  be  rank'd  in  equipage 
With  Danae,  lo,  Leda,  and  the  rest, 
That  in  his  amours  pleas'd  the  Thunderer  best. 
Methinks,  since  his  embraces  fill'd  my  womb, 


158  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

There  is  no  earth  in  me ;  I  am  all  divine : 

There  is  in  me  nothing  mortal  save  this  shape, 

Whose  beauty  hath  call'd  Jove  himself  from  heaven ; 

The  rest  all  pure,  corruptless,  and  refined, 

That  hath  daz'd  men,  and  made  th'  immortal  blind. — 

Leave  us,  oh !  you,  unworthy  to  attend 

Or  wait  upon  Cadmeian  Semele : 

Hebe  shall  be  my  handmaid,  and  my  wine 

The  hand  of  Jove's  own  cup-bearer  shall  fill. 

I'll  beg  of  him  the  Trojan  Ganymede 

To  be  my  page ;  and  when  I  please  to  ride, 

Borrow  his  eagle,  through  the  air  to  glide. — 

Go  call  me  hither  my  nurse  Beroe, 

Whom  I  will  make  free  partner  in  my  joys. 

[Exit  Servant.] 

Enter  JUNO,  in  the  shape  of  old  BEROE,  with  the 
Servant. 

Serv.  Beroe  attends  your  grace. 

Sem.  Oh,  my  dear  nurse!   lives  there   on  earth  a 

princess 
Equally  lov'd  and  grac'd  by  Jove  himself? 

Juno.  Out  on  thee,  strumpet! — I  could  tear  those  eyes, 
Whose  beauty  drew  my  husband  from  the  skies. 

Sem.  Am  I  not  happy,  Beroe  ? 

Juno.  Were  you  sure 

'Twere  Jove  himself  this  gladness  did  procure. 
Madam,  there  many  foul  impostors  be, 
That  blind  the  world  with  their  inchastity, 
And  in  the  name  of  gods,  being  scarce  good  men, 
Juggle  with  ladies  and  corrupt  their  honours. 
Think  you  yon  stripling,  that  goes  clad  in  green, 
Is  Jupiter  ? 

Sem.  I  know  him  for  heaven's  King, 
Whose  issue  in  my  womb  I  feel  to  spring. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  159 

Juno.  I  think  it  not.     But,  lady,  this  I  know, 
That  gods  are  so  lascivious  grown  of  late, 
That  men  contend  their  lusts  to  imitate. 

Sem.  i  Not  Jupiter ! 

Juno.  Things  truly  reconcile, 

You'll  jump  with  me.     How  have  you  been  the  while, 
Since  you  were  breeding — now  well,  sometimes  ill ; 
Subject  to  every  imperfection  still, 
Apt  to  all  chances  other  women  be ; 
When,  were  you  lov'd  of  the  high  deity, 
That  hath  the  gift  of  strength,  power,  health,  and  joy, 
The  least  of  these  could  not  your  state  annoy. 

Sem.  Thou  putt'st  me  in  mistrust,  and  half  persuad'st 

me 

He  is  no  more  than  mortal  whom  I  love. 
How  shall  I  prove  him,  nurse  ? 

Juno.  I'll  tell  you,  madam.    When  you  see  him  next, 
Seem  with  some  strange  and  uncouth  passion  vex'd, 
And  beg  of  him  a  boon ;  which  till  he  grant, 
Swear  he  no  more  your  favours  shall  enchant. 

Sem.  Beroe,  what  boon  ? 

Juno.  To  hug  you  in  that  state, 
In  which  fair  Juno  he  embrac'd  so  late : 
To  descend  armed  with  celestial  fire, 
And  in  that  majesty  glut  his  desire. 
His  right  hand  arm'd  with  lightning,  on  his  head 
Heaven's  massy  crown,  and  so  to  mount  your  bed. 
So  are  you  sure  he  is  a  god,  indeed : 
Obtain  this  boon,  and  fairly  may  you  speed. 

Sem.  Thou  hast  fired  me,  Beroe. 

Juno.  Thou  shalt  be  on  flame, 
So  great,  the  ocean  shall  not  quench  the  same. 

Sem.  Beroe,  away  !  my  chamber  ready  make ; 
Toss  down  on  down,  for  we  this  night  must  tumble 
Within  the  arms  of  mighty  Jupiter, 


160  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

Of  whom  I'll  beg  th'  immortal  sweets  of  love, 
Such  as  from  Jove  imperial  Juno  tastes. 
Begone  without  reply,  my  love's  at  hand. 

Juno.  Thy  death's  upon  thy  boon :  this  Juno  cheers, 
That  my  revenge  shall  mount  above  the  spheres. 

[Exit  JUNO. 

Sem.  I  will  not  smile  on  him,  lend  him  a  look 
As  the  least  grace,  till  he  give  free  assent 
To  fill  me  with  celestial  wonderment. 

Enter  JUPITER,  like  a  woodman. 

Jup.  Oh !  thou  that  mak'st  earth  heaven,  and  turn'st 

th'  immortal 

Into  this  shape  terrestrial,  thou  bright  issue 
Of  old  Agenor,  and  the  Cadmeian  line, 
For  whom  these  stony  buildings  we  prefer 
Before  our  crystal  structures ;  that  mak'st  Jove 
Abandon  the  high  councils  of  the  gods, 
To  treat  with  thee  of  love's  fair  blandishments ; 
Divinest  of  thy  race,  fair  Semele, 
Fold  in  thy  arms  Olympic  Jupiter. 

Sem.  Jupiter ! 

Jup.  That  Jupiter,  that  with  a  powerful  nod 
Shakes  the  heaven's  arches,  o'er  the  universe 
Spreads  dread  and  awe,  and,  when  we  arm  ourself 
With  majesty,  make  th'  earth's  foundation  tremble, 
And  all  mortality  fly  like  a  smoke 
Before  our  presence,  vanish'd  and  consum'd. 

Sem.  Did  Semele  behold  such  majesty, 
She  could  believe  this  were  the  Thunderer's  voice. 
Thou  he? 

Jup.  What  means  this  strangeness,  Semele? 
Have  I  preferr'd  thy  beauty  before  hers 
Whose  state  fills  heaven,  whose  food's  ambrosia, 
Upon  whose  cup  the  lovely  Hebe  waits 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  161 

When  she  quaffs  nectar  ?  whose  bright  chariot 

Is  drawn  with  painted  peacocks  through  the  clouds ; 

And  am  I  thus  receiv'd  ? 

Sem.  Thou  bed  with  Juno  ! 

Base  groom !  thou  art  no  better  than  thou  seemest, 
And  thy  impostures  have  deceiv'd  a  princess 
Greater  than  e'er  descended  from  thy  line. 
Hence  !  from  my  sight,  thou  earth,  that  hast  profaned 
The  dreadful  Thunderer's  name  !  what  see  I  in  thee 
More  than  a  man,  to  prove  thyself  a  god  ? 
Thou  deifi'd !  thy  presence,  groom,  is  poor, 
Thy  'haviour  slight,  thy  courtship  trivial, 
Thou  hast  not  a  good  face :  what's  in  thee  worth 
The  favour  and  the  grace  of  Semele  ? 
A  god  ?     Alas !  thou  art  scarce  a  proper  man  ! 

Jup.  Ha!   fails   my   shape?   is    he    that    awes    the 


Now  valued  less  than  man  ? — Why,  Semele, 
Prove  me,  and  what  I  can :  wouldst  thou  have  gold, 
I'll  rain  a  richer  shower  in  thy  bosom 
Than  e'er  I  pour'd  on  Danae. 

Sem.  Gold  !  what's  that, 
Which  every  mortal  prince  can  give  his  love  ? 

Jup.  Wouldst    thou    increase    thy   beauty,   or  thy 
strength  ? 

Sem.  I  am  nor  foul,  nor  sick. 

Jup.  Wouldst  thou  have  godhood  ? 
I  will  translate  this  beauty  to  the  spheres, 
Where  thou  shalt  shine  the  brightest  star  in  heaven. 
I'll  lift  thy  body  from  this  terrene  dross, 
And  on  two  eagles,  swift  as  Pegasus, 
We'll  take  our  daily  progress  through  the  clouds. 
I'll  show  thee  all  the  planets  in  their  rank, 
The  monstrous  signs,  the  lion,  ram,  and  bull, 
The  black-scal'd  scorpion,  and  the  cancer's  claws. 

M 


162  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

Ask  what  thou  wilt  to  prove  my  deity, 
And  take  it  as  thine  own,  fair  Semele. 

JSem.  Grant  me  one  boon,  less  than  the  least  of  these, 
My  arms  shall  spread  thus  wide  to  embrace  my  love ; 
In  my  warm  bosom  I  will  glove  thy  hand, 
And  seal  a  thousand  kisses  on  thy  lips ; 
My  fingers  I'll  entangle  in  these  curls, 
And  scarf  my  ivory  arm  about  thy  neck, 
And  lay  myself  as  prostrate  to  thy  love, 
As  th'  earth  her  grass  green  apron  spreads  for  rain. 
Speak,  shall  I  ask  ?  or  have  you  pow'r  to  grant  ? 

Jup.  By  dreadful  Styx,  an  oath  I  cannot  change, 
But  ask  and  have. 

Sem.  Then,  bed  with  me  to-night, 
Arm'd  with  the  self-same  godhood,  state,  and  power, 
You  Juno  meet. 

Jup.  Black  day !  accursed  hour  ! 
Thou  hast  ask'd  too  much :  thy  weak  mortality 
Cannot  endure  the  scorching  fires  of  heaven. 

Sem.  Either  you  cannot  do't,  as  wanting  might, 
Or  loth  you  are  to  breed  me  such  delight. 
Is  this  your  love  ? 

Jup.  Thy  death  is  in  thy  boon ; 
But  'tis  thy  fate. — She  can  it  not  recal, 
Nor  I  unswear :  the  infant  in  her  womb, 
Not  yet  full  grown  and  ripe,  torments  me  most ; 
For  in  this  rash  demand  they  both  are  lost. 

Sem.  I'll  stand  it  at  all  dangers,  and  prepare 
For  this  night's  sport. 

Jup.  Above  my  thunders  are  ; 
Thither  I  must,  and  being  arm'd  descend, 
To  give  this  beauty,  in  her  rashness,  end. 

Sem.  Remember  by  this  kiss  you  keep  your  oath. 

Jup.  Never  did  Jove  to  heaven  ascend  so  loth. — 
Expect  me  this  sad  night.  [Exit  JUPITER.] 


SCENE  T.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  163 

Sem.  With  double  joy. — 
Celestial  sweets  shall  surfeit  me,  and  cloy 
My  appetite.     The  gods  are  loth  t'  impart 
Their  pleasures  to  us  mortals :  dance,  my  heart, 
And  swim  in  free  delights,  my  pleasures  crown ; 
This  jovial  night  shall  Semele  renown. 

[Exit  SEMELE. 

JUNO  and  IRIS,  placed  in  a  cloud:  above. 

Juno.  Come,  Iris ;  o'er  the  loftiest  pinnacles 
Of  this  high  palace  let  us  mount  ourselves, 
To  see  this  noble  pastime. — Is't  not  brave  ? 

Iris.  Hath  her  suit  took  effect  ?  'las,  Semele ! 

Juno.  Hang,  burn  her,  witch  !  be  all  such  strumpets 

fired 

With  no  less  heat  than  wanton  Semele. 
Oh  !  'twill  be  gallant  sport,  will't  not,  Iris, 
To  see  these  golden  roofs  dance  in  the  air  ? 
These  pinnacles  shall  prick  the  floors  of  heaven, 
These  spires  confused  tumble  in  the  clouds, 
And  all  fly  up,  and  shatter  at  th'  approach 
Of  his  great  godhood.     Oh!  'twould  please  me,  Iris, 
To  see  this  wanton,  with  her  bastard,  blown 
And  hang'd  upon  the  high  horns  of  the  moon. 
The  hour  draws  on :  we  may  from  hence  espy 
Th'  adultress  sprawl,  the  palace  upward  fly. 

Enter  two  Maids  of  SEMELE'S  chamber. 

1st  Maid.  Questionless  my  lady  looks  for  some  great 
guests,  that  she  makes  all  this  preparation. 

2nd  Maid.  'Tis  not  like  she  expects  them  at  supper, 
because  she  herself  is  preparing  to  bed. 

1st  Maid.  Did  you  note  how  she  made  us  tumble  and 
toss  the  bed,  before  the  making  of  it  would  please  her  ? 

2nd  Maid.  There  hath  been  tumbling  and  tossing  on 

M  2 


164  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  IV. 

that  bed  hath  pleased  her  better.  You  know  the  youth 
in  green ;  he  hath  made  my  lady  look  red,  ere  now. 

1  st  Maid.  You  know  she  is  naturally  pale :  he  did 
but  wrestle  with  her,  to  get  her  a  colour. 

2nd  Maid.  The  youth  in  green  hath  given  her  a 
medicine  for  the  green  sickness,  I  warrant  her.  I  am 
deceived  if,  when  they  meet,  it  go  not  two  to  one  of  her 
side. 

1st  Maid.  Why,  do  you  think  her  with  child  ? 

2nd  Maid.  'Tis  past  thinking,  I  dare  swear.  But 
let's  attend  my  lady. 

Enter  SEMELE,  drawn  out  in  her  bed. 

Sem.  Away ! — We  will  have  none  partake  our  plea- 
sures, 

Or  be  eye-witness  of  these  prodigal  sweets 
Which  we  this  night  shall  in  abundance  taste : 
This  is  the  hour  shall  deify  my  earth, 
And  make  this  dross  immortal.     Thanks,  my  Beroe, 
That  thou  hast  made  me  beg  my  happiness, 
Show'd  me  the  way  to  immortality, 
And  taught  me  how  to  emulate  the  gods. — 
Descend,  great  Jove,  in  thy  full  majesty, 
And  crown  my  pleasures ;  here  behold  me  spread, 
To  taste  the  sweets  of  thy  immortal  bed. 

Thunder,  lightnings.     JUPITER  descends  in  his  majesty, 
his  thunderbolt  burning. 

Jup.  Thus  wrapp'd  in  storms  and  black  tempestuous 

clouds, 

Lightning,  and  showers,  we  sit  upon  the  roofs 
And  trembling  terraces  of  this  high  house, 
That  is  not  able  to  contain  our  power. 
Yet  come  we  not  with  those  sharp  thunders  armed, 
With  which  the  sturdy  giants  we  o'erthrew, 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE. 

When  we  the  mighty  Typhon  sunk  beneath 

Four  populous  kingdoms :  these  are  not  so  fiery. 

The  Cyclopes,  that  us'd  to  forge  our  bolts, 

Have  qualified  their  fervour,  yet  their  violence 

Is  'bove  the  strength  of  mortals. — Beauteous  Semele, 

Instead  of  thee  I  shall  embrace  thy  smoke, 

And  clasp  a  fumy  vapour,  left  in  place 

[Thunder  and  lightning. 

Of  thy  bright  beauty. — Stormy  tempests,  cease ! — 
The  more  I  frown,  the  more  their  breaths  increase. 

Sem.  What  terror's  this?    Oh,  thou  immortal,  speak ! 
My  eyes  are  for  thy  majesty  too  weak. 

[As  Tie  touches  the  bed,  it  fires,  and  all  flies  up. 
JUPITER  from  thence  takes  an  abortive  infant. 
Jup.  Receive  thy  boon :  now  take  thy  free  desire, 
In  thunder,  tempest,  smoke,  and  heavenly  fire. 

Juno.  Ha!  ha!  ha! 

Fair  Semele's  consum'd:  'twas  acted  well. 
Come  ;  next  we'll  follow  Hercules  to  hell. 

[JUPITER,  taking  up  the  infant,  speaks 

as  he  ascends  in  his  cloud. 

Jup.  For  Semele,  thus  slain,  the  heavens  shall  mourn 
In  pitchy  clouds,  the  earth  in  barrenness : 
The  ocean  for  her  slaughter  shall  weep  brine, 
And  hell  resound  her  loss.     Fair  Semele  ! 
Nothing  but  ashes  now ;  yet  this  remainder, 
That  cannot  die,  being  born  of  heavenly  seed, 
I  will  conserve  till  his  full  time  of  birth. 
His  name  I'll  Bacchus  call,  and  being  grown, 
Style  him  the  God  of  Grapes :  his  bacchanals 
Shall  be  renown'd  at  feasts,  when  their  light  brains 
Swim  in  the  fumes  of  wine.     This,  all  that's  left 
Of  Semele,  unto  the  heavens  I'll  bear ; 
Whose  death  this  motto  to  all  mortals  lends : 
He  by  the  gods  dies,  that  'bove  man  contends. 


I 
166  THE  SILVER  AGE.  .  ACT  V. 


ACTUS  V.     SCJENA  I. 
HOMER. 

Let  none  the  secrets  of  the  gods  inquire, 

Lest  they,  like  her,  be  struck  with  heavenly  fire. 

But  we  again  to  Hercules  return, 
Now  on  his  journey  to  the  vaults  below, 
Where  discontented  Proserpine  doth  mourn : 
There's  made  to  cheer  her  an  infernal  show — 
Hell's  Judges,  Fates,  and  Furies,  summon'd  been, 
To  give  free  welcome  to  the  Stygian  queen. 

A  dumb  show  of  PLUTO  and  all  his  Devils,  presenting 
several  gifts  and  shows  to  cheer  PROSERPINE  ;  but  she 
continues  in  her  discontent. 

All  this,  and  more,  the  beauteous  queen  to  cheer, 
Pluto  devis'd,  but  still  her  grief  remains : 
No  food  she  tastes  within  the  gloomy  sphere, 
Save  of  a  ripe  pomegranate  some  few  grains. 

The  next  thing  we  present,  sit  fair  and  well, 

You  shall  behold  a  holiday  in  hell. 

Enter  THESEUS,  PIRITHOUS,  and  PHILOCTETES, 
armed. 

Thes.  Saw  you  not  Hercules  ? 

Pirith.  Noble  Theseus,  no ; 
I  left  him  in  the  forest,  chasing  there 
Diana's  hart,  and  striving  to  outrun 
The  swift-foot  beast. 

Thes.  His  active  nimbleness 
Outflies  the  winged  bird,  outstrips  the  steed, 
Catcheth  the  hare,  and  the  swift  greyhound  tires ; 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  167 

Outpace th  the  wild  leopard,  and  exceeds 
Beasts  of  most  active  chase. 

Phil.  We  have  arrived 
At  Taenaros.     This  is  the  mouth  of  hell ; 
Which,  by  my  counsel,  we'll  not  seek  to  enter, 
Till  Hercules  approach. 

Thes.  Not  enter,  Philoctetes  ! 
Our  spirits  may  compare  with  Hercules, 
Though  he  exceed  our  strength.     I  with  my  sword 
Will  beat  against  black  Tartarus'  ebon  gates, 
And  dare  the  triple-headed  dog  to  arms, 
Hell's  tri-shap'd  porter. 

Phil.  Not  by  my  persuasion. 

Pirith.  Pirithous  will  assist  his  noble  friend, 
And  in  this  work  prevent  great  Hercules. 
Let's  rouse  the  hell-hound,  call  him  from  his  lodge, 
And,  maugre  Cerberus,  enter  hell's  mouth, 
And  thence  redeem  the  ravish'd  Proserpine. 

Thes.  Had  Orpheus  power,  by  music  of  his  harp, 
To  charm  the  cur,  pierce  Orcus,  Pluto  please, 
And  at  his  hands  beg  fair  Eurydice, 
And  shall  not  we  as  much  dare  with  our  swords 
As  he  with  fingering  of  his  golden  strings  ? — 
Come ;  let  our  joint  assistance  rouse  the  fiend, 
Thunder  against  the  rusty  gates  of  hell, 
And  make  the  Stygian  kingdoms  quake  with  fear. 

{They  beat  against  the  gates. 

Enter  CERBERUS. 

Cerb.  What  mortal  wretch,  that  fears  to  die  above, 
Hath  travell'd  thus  far  to  inquire  out  death  ? 

Thes.  We,  that  have  blaz'd  the  world  with  deeds  of 

praise, 

Must  fill  the  Stygian  empire  with  our  fame. 
Then,  rouse  thee,  thou  three-throated  cur,  and  taste 
The  strength  of  Theseus. 


168  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  V. 

Cerb.  These  my  three  empty  throats  you  three  shall 

gorge ; 

And  when  my  nails  have  torn  you  limb  from  limb, 
I'll  sit  and  feast  my  hunger  with  your  flesh. 
These  fangs  shall  gnaw  upon  ybur  cruded  bones, 
And  with  your  bloods  I'll  smear  my  triple  chaps. 
Your  number  fits  my  heads,  and  your  three  bodies 
Shall  all  my  three  throats  set  a'  work  at  once. 
I'll  worry  you ;  and  having  made  you  bleed, 
First  suck  your  juice,  then  on  your  entrails  feed. 

PIRITHOUS/^/^  with  CERBERUS,  and  is  slain. 

Thes.  Hold,  bloody  fiend,  and  spare  my  noble  friend ! 
The  honour  of  the  worthy  Lapithes 
Lies  breathless  here,  before  the  gates  of  hell. 
Cease,  monster  !  cease  to  prey  upon  his  body, 
And  feed  on  Theseus  here !  [THESEUS  is  wounded. 

Cerb.  I'll  eat  you  all. 

Enter  HERCULES. 

Here.  Stay,  and  forbear  your  uproar,  till  our  club 
Stickle  amongst  you.     Whilst  we  in  the  chase 
Have  catch'd  the  swift  and  golden-headed  stag, 
These  valiant  Greeks  have  sunk  themselves  beneath 
The  upper  world,  as  low  as  Erebus. 
Whom  see  we  ?     Theseus  wounded !  young  Pirithous 
Torn  by  the  ravenous  fangs  of  Cerberus ! 
My  grief  convert  to  rage  and  stern  revenge. 
Come,  guard  thee  well,  infernal  cannibal ; 
At  every  stroke  that  lights  upon  thy  skull, 
I'll  make  thee  think  the  weight  of  all  the  world, 
And  the  earth's  huge  mass  shall  crown  thee. 

Cerb.  Welcome,  mortal. 

Thou  com'st  to  mend  my  breakfast ;  thou  wilt  yield  me 
Many  a  fat  bit. 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  169 

Here.  I'll  make  thee  eat  my  club, 
And  swallow  this,  fell  mastiff,  down  thy  paunch. 
At  every  weighty  cuff  I'll  make  thee  howl, 
And  set  all  hell  in  uproar.     When  thou  roarest, 
Thy  barking  groans  shall  make  the  brazen  tow'rs, 
Where  ghosts  are  tortur'd,  echo  with  thy  sound. 
Pluto's  black  guard,  at  every  deadly  yell, 
Shall  frighted  run  through  all  the  nooks  of  hell. 

HERCULES  beats  CERBERUS,  and  binds  him  in  chains. 

Here.  Keep  thou  this  ravenous  hell-hound  gyv'd  and 

bound. 

Hell's  bowels  I  must  pierce,  and  rouse  black  Dis, 
Break  with  my  fists  these  adamantine  gates, 
The  iron  portcullis  tear,  and  with  my  club 
Work  my  free  passage,  maugre  all  the  fiends, 
Through  these  infernals.     Lo !  I  sink  myself 
In  Charon's  barge.     I'll  ferry  burning  Styx, 
Ransack  the  palace  where  grim  Pluto  reigns, 
Mount  his  tribunal  made  of  sable  jet, 
Despite  his  black  guard,  'stound  him  in  his  chair, 
And  from  his  arm  snatch  beauteous  Proserpine. 
Ghosts,  Furies,  fiends,  shall  all  before  us  fly, 
Or  once  more  perish,  and  so  doubly  die. 

HERCULES  sinks  himself:  flashes  of  fire ;  the  Devils  appear 
at  every  corner  of  the  stage  with  several  fireworks.  The 
Judges  of  hell  and  the  three  Sisters  run  over  the  stage, 
HERCULES  after  them:  fireworks  all  over  the  house. 
Enter  HERCULES. 

Here.  Hence,  ravenous  vulture  !  thou  no  more  shalt 

tire 

On  poor  Prometheus ;  Danaids,  spare  your  tubs ; 
Stand  still,  thou  rolling  stone  of  Sisyphus ; 
Feed,  Tantalus ;  with  apples,  glut  thy  paunch, 


170  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  V. 

And  with  the  shrinking  waves  quench  thy  hot  thirst : 

Thy  bones,  Ixion,  shall  no  more  be  broke 

Upon  the  torturing  wheel :  the  eagle's  beak 

Shall  Titius  spare  at  sight  of  Hercules, 

And  all  the  horrid  tortures  of  the  damned 

Shall  at  the  waving  of  our  club  dissolve. 

Enter  PLUTO  with  a  club  of  'fire,  a  burning  crown ;  PRO- 
SERPINE, the  Judges,  the  Fates,  and  a  guard  of  Devils 
all  with  burning  weapons. 

Pluto.  Wert  thou  imperial  Jove,   that   sways  the 

heavens, 

And  in  the  starry  structure  dwells  above, 
Thou  canst  not  revel  here :  my  flaming  crown 
Shall  scorch  thy  damn'd  soul  with  infernal  fires ; 
My  vassal  Furies  with  their  wiry  strings 
Shall  lash  thee  hence,  and  with  my  ebon  club 
I'll  ding  thee  to  the  lowest  Barathrum. 

Here.   First  shall  this  engine,  arm'd  with  spikes  of 

steel, 

That  'fore  the  gates  of  hell  struck  flat  thy  cur, 
Fall  with  no  less  power  on  thy  burning  sconce, 
Than  should  great  Jove  the  massy  centre  hurl, 
And  turn  the  world's  huge  frame  upon  thy  head. 

Pluto.  Upon  him,  devils  ! 

Here.  Aid  me,  pow'rs  divine, 
From  these  black  fiends  to  rescue  Proserpine. 

[HERCULES  fells  PLUTO,  beats  off  the  Devils  with 
all  their  fireworks,  rescues  PROSERPINE. 

Now  are  we  King  of  Orcus,  Acheron, 
Cocytus,  Styx,  and  fiery  Phlegethon. 

Pros.  Long  live  Alcides,  cro  wn'd  with  god-like  honours, 
For  rescuing  me  out  of  the  arms  of  Dis, 
The  underworld  and  fiery  jaws  of  hell ! 


SCENE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  171 

All  the  ghosts.  Long  live  eterniz'd  noble  Hercules, 
That  hath  dissolv'd  our  torments  ! 

Rhad.  Hercules, 

Attend  th'  unchanging  doom  of  Rhadamanth ; 
And  if  the  gods  be  subject  to  the  Fates, 
Needs  must  thou,  noble  Greek,  obey  their  doom. 
Lo  !  in  their  name,  and  in  the  awful  voice 
Of  us,  the  reverend  Judges,  to  whose  doom 
Thou  once  must  stand,  I  charge  thee,  stir  not  hence 
Till  we  have  censur'd  thee  and  Proserpine. 
Is  not  the  power  of  Jove  confin'd  above, 
And  are  we  not  as  absolute  in  state 
Here,  in  the  vaults  below  ?     To  alter  this, 
The  heavens  must  fail,  the  sun  melt  in  his  heat, 
The  elements  dissolve,  chaos  again 
Confuse  the  triple  mass — all  turn  to  nothing. 
Now  there  is  order :  gods  there  are,  and  devils ; 
These  reward  virtue,  the  other  punish  vice. 
After  this  course,  you  mingle  bad  with  good, 
Murder  with  pity,  hate  with  clemency ; 
There's  for  the  best  no  merit,  for  the  offender 
No  just  infliction. 

Here.  Khadamanth  speaks  well. 

Pluto.  To  whom  will  Hercules  commit  this  business? 

Here.  I  will  appeal  to  Jove,  and  to  the  planets, 
Whose  pow'rs  though  bounded,  yet  infuse  their  might 
In  every  mortal. 

jjEacus.  Them  the  Fates  shall  summon, 
Of  whom  this  beauteous  maid,  the  Moon,  is  one ; 
The  lowest  of  the  seven.     You,  reverend  sisters, 
Who  all  things  that  are  past,  be,  and  to  come, 
Keep  register'd  in  brass,  assemble  there. 

Here.  Be  Ceres  pleased,  Alcides  is  content ; 
Nor  can  she  stand  to  better  Justices 
Than  to  the  gods  and  planets. 


172  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  V. 

Sound.  Enter  SATURN,  JUPITER,  JUNO,  MARS, 
PHOEBUS,  VENUS,  MERCURY  :  they  take  their  places 
as  they  are  in  height.  CERES. 

Sat.  I  know  this  place:    why  have  you  summon'd 

Saturn 

To  hell,  where  he  hath  been  to  arraign  the  Moon? 
These  uncouth  caverns  better  suit  my  sadness 
Than  my  high  sphere  above,  whence  to  all  mortals 
I  shoot  my  thick  and  troubled  melancholy. 
Say,  what's  the  business  ?  say. 

Jup.  Ceres,  thy  presence 
Tells  me  thy  suit  is  'bout  thy  daughter's  rape. 

Ceres.  Is  she  not  thine  ?  and  canst  thou  suffer  her 
To  be  entomb'd  in  hell  before  her  time  ? 

Juno.  Cannot  hell  swallow  your  ambitious  bastard, 
But,  maugre  all  these  monsters,  lives  he  still  ? 

Phceb.  I  saw  grim  Pluto,  in  my  daily  progress, 
Hurry  her  in  his  chariot  o'er  the  earth. 

Venus.  What    could    he    less   do,   if   he    lov'd   the 
lady? 

Mars.  Yenus  is  all  for  love. 

Merc.  And  Mars  for  war. 
Sometimes  he  runs  a  tilt  at  Venus'  lips : 
You  have  many  amorous  bickerings. 

Mars.  Well  spoke,  Mercury. 

Sat.  Come  we  hither 
To  trifle,  or  to  censure  ?     What  would  Pluto  ? 

Pluto.  Keep  whom  I  have. 

Ceres.  Canst  suffer't,  Jupiter? 

Here.  I  won  her  from  the  arms  of  Stygian  Pluto ; 
And  being  mine,  restore  her  to  her  mother. 

Ceres.  And  shall  not  Ceres  keep  her  ?     Speak,  great 
Jove. 

Jup.  Thy  censure,  Rhadanianth. 


SCF.NE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  173 

Ehad.  The  Fates,  by  whom  your  powrrs  are  all  con- 
scribed, 

Pronounce  this  doom :  If  since  since  her  first  arrive 
She  hath  tasted  any  food,  she  must  of  force 
Be  everlastingly  confin'd  to  hell. 

Pluto.  Asculaphus,  thou  didst  attend  my  queen  : 
Hath  she  yet  tasted  of  our  Stygian  fruits, 
That  we  may  keep  her  still  ? 

Ascu.  I  saw  her  in  her  mouth  chew  the  moist  grains 
Of  a  pomegranate. 

Ceres.  Curs'd  Asculaphus ! 
I'll  add  unto  thy  ugliness,  and  make  thee 
A  monster,  of  all  monsters  most  abhorr'd. 

Pluto.  Your  censures,   oh,   you   gods !    is   she    not 

Pluto's? 
Give  your  free  censures  up. 

All.  She  must  be  Pluto's. 

Ceres.  The  gods  are  partial  all. 

Pluto.  Welcome,  my  queen. 

Here.  What  can  Alcides  more  for  Ceres'  love, 
Than  ransack  hell,  and  rescue  Proserpine  ? 
Needs  must  our  farther  -conquests  here  take  end, 
When  gods  and  Fates  against  our  force  contend. 

Ceres.  Justice,  oh,  justice,  thou  omnipotent ! 
Rob  not  thy  Ceres  of  her  beauteous  child. 
Either  restore  my  daughter  to  the  earth, 
Or  banish  me  to  hell. 

Sat.  Ceres,  you  are  fond. 

Th'  earth  cannot  want  your  plenty :  your  fertility 
Will  worse  become  hell-scorched  barrenness. — 
Let's  break  this  sessions  up ;  I  am  dull. 

Jup.  You  gods  above, 

And  powers  below,  attend  the  Thunderer's  voice, 
And  to  our  moderation  lend  an  ear 
Of  reverence. — Ceres,  the  Fates  have  doomed  her 


174  THE  SILVER  AGE.  ACT  V. 

The  bride  of  Pluto ;  nor  is  she  disparaged 

To  be  the  sister  of  Olympic  Jove. 

The  rape  that  you  call  force,  we  title  love ; 

Nor  is  he  less  degreed,  save  in  his  lot, 

To  us  that  sway  the  heavens. — So  much  for  Pluto. 

Now,  beauteous  Ceres,  we  return  to  you. 

Such  is  your  care,  to  fill  the  earth  with  plenty, 

To  cherish  all  these  fruits,  from  which  the  mortals 

Ostend  their  gratitude  to  us,  the  gods, 

In  sacrifice  and  offerings,  that  we  now 

Thus  by  our  dread  power  mitigate  the  strictness 

Of  the  Fates'  doom.     We  have  not,  oh,  you  gods  ! 

Purpose  to  do  our  Stygian  brother  wrong, 

Nor  rob  the  heavens  the  planet  of  the  Moon, 

By  whom  the  seas  are  sway'd  :  be  she  confin'd 

Below  the  earth,  where  be  the  ebbs  and  tides? 

Where  is  her  pow'r  infus'd  in  herbs  and  plants  ? 

In  trees  for  buildings,  simples  physical, 

Or  mineral  mines  ?     Therefore,  indifferent  Jove 

Thus  arbitrates :  the  year  we  part  in  twelve, 

Call'd  months  of  the  moon :  twelve  times  a  year 

She  in  full  splendour  shall  supply  her  orb, 

And  shine  in  heaven  ;  twelve  times  fill  Pluto's  arms, 

Below  in  hell.     When  Ceres  on  the  earth 

Shall  want  her  brightness,  Pluto  shall  enjoy  it : 

When  heaven  contains  her,  she  shall  light  the  earth 

From  her  bright  sphere  above.     Parted  so  even, 

We  neither  favour  hell,  nor  gloze  with  heaven. 

Pluto.  Pluto  is  pleas'd. 

Ceres.  Ceres  at  length  agreed. 

Pros.  Jove  is  all  justice,  and  hath  well  decreed. 

Jup.  Say  all  the  planets  thus  ? 

All  We  do. 

Jup.  Our  sessions  we  dissolve,  then. — Hercules, 
We  limit  you  to  drag  hence  Cerberus 


SCEXE  I.  THE  SILVER  AGE.  175 

To  the  upper  world,  and  leave  thee  to  the  universe, 
Where  thou  shalt  finish  all  thy  Jovial  tasks : 
Proceed,  and  thrive. — You  that  to  earth  belong, 
Ascend  to  your  mortality  with  honours ; 
The  gods  to  heaven ;  Pluto  and  his,  keep  hell ; 
The  Moon  in  both  by  even  atonement  dwell. 

[Exeunt  three  ways  CERES,  THESEUS,  PHILOO 
TETES  ;  and  HERCULES  dragging  CERBERUS 
one  way :  PLUTO,  lieWs  Judges,  the  Fates  and 
Furies,  down  to  hell:  JUPITER,  the  gods  and 
planets,  ascend  to  heaven. 

Enter  HOMER. 

Our  full  scenes  wane,  the  Moon's  arraignment  ends ; 
Jove  and  his  mount,  Pluto  with  his  descends. 

Poor  Homer's  left  blind,  and  hath  lost  his  way, 
And  knows  not  if  he  wander  or  go  right, 
Unless  your  favours  their  clear  beams  display : 
But  if  you  deign  to  guide  me  through  this  night, 
The  acts  of  Hercules  I  shall  pursue, 
And  bring  him  to  the  thrice  raz'd  walls  of  Troy. 
His  labours  and  his  death  I'll  show  to  you. 
But  if  what's  past  your  riper  judgments  cloy, 
Here  I  have  done :  if  ill,  too  much  ;  if  well, 
Pray,  with  your  hands  guide  Homer  out  of  hell. 


FINIS. 


NOTES 


Page  95,  line  20,  If  thou  can  prove,  &c.]  In  the  old  copy  it  stands, 
"  If  /  can  prove,"  &c.,  which,  in  all  probability,  is  a  misprint. 

Page  97,  line  20,  But  worse  than  death  can  be  we  doom  thy  insolence.] 
The  meaning  is  not  very  clear ;  but  taking  "  doom,"  as  it  stands  in  the 
old  copy,  to  be  the  true  reading,  it  seems  to  be,  "  We  doom  thy  insolence 
to  what  can  be  worse  than  death."  Possibly,  we  ought  to  substitute 
deem  for  "  doom." 

Page  97,  line  34,  Yet,  yet  thy  body  meeds  a  better  grave.]  The  body 
deserves  a  better  grave.  Shakespeare  uses  the  substantive  in  the  sense  of 
desert.  See  vol.  v.,  251,  317;  vi.,  515;  vii.,  338:  edit.  Collier.  In  the 
third  instance,  the  above  line  by  Hey  wood  is  quoted.  On  the  next  page, 
line  4,  Heywood  uses  "  meed  "  in  its  ordinary  sense. 

Page  100,  line  5,  Hath  cast  him  both  of  state  and  kingdom  too.]  So 
the  old  copy,  which  there  seems  no  sufficient  reason  to  alter ;  but  the  true 
reading,  nevertheless,  may  be  eas'd. 

Page  101,  line  11,  To  oppose  their  fury.]  "To  expose  their  fury,"  is 
the  old  reading. 

Page  106,  line  14,  By  virtue  of  her  rays.]  "By  virtue  of  thy  rays," 
in  the  old  copy. 

Page  107,  line  3,  By  Joshua,  Duke  unto  the  Hebrew  nation.]  A 
singular  anachronism  and  misrepresentation  of  geographical  position, 
apparently  for  the  sake  of  connecting  sacred  and  profane  history  in  the 
minds  of  the  auditory. 

Page  110,  line  17,  And  tell  the  whole  project.]  The  measure  would 
be  improved,  were  we  to  read,  "  And  tell  thee  the  whole  project."  On 
the  preceding  page,  (line  32)  in  the  hemistich,  "Must  give  to  King 
Creon,"  the  preposition  is  surplusage;  but,  being  inserted  in  the  old 
copy,  we  do  not  omit  it :  the  reader's  ear  will  detect  the  error.  Heywood, 

N 


178  NOTES  TO  THE  SILVER  AGE. 

perhaps,  wrote,  "  Must  give  King  Creon,"  the  line  being  completed  by 
the  first  words  of  Alcmena's  speech,  "  All  my  orisons." 

Page  118,  line  24,  Glad  to  enfold.']     The  old  copy  has  unfold. 

Page  130,  line  32,  Heaven  hath,  or  place  me  in  the  lowest  hell.]  The 
old  copy  reads,  "lowest  o/hell;"  but  "of"  is  clearly  too  much,  both  for 
the  sense  and  metre,  and  must  have  been  accidentally  inserted. 

Page  131,  line  4,  Exeunt  Juno  and  Iris.'}  The  stage-direction  in  the 
original  is  merely,  "  Exit  Juno ;"  but  Iris  evidently  went  out  with  her. 

Page  131,  line  10,  The  Thunderer  thunders.']  "The  Thunderer 
thunderers"  in  the  old  copy. 

Page  1 32,  line  15,  Of  yon  adultress  and  her  mechal  brats.]  "  Mechal " 
is  wicked :  it  occurs  again  in  our  author's  "  Challenge  for  Beauty,"  1636, 
Sign.  I  3 — 

"  Her  own  tongue 
Hath  publish'd  her  a  mechal  prostitute." 

Page  134,  line  24,  Young  Ipectetes,  whom  Amphitrio  owes.]  So  spelt 
in  the  old  copy,  where  a  name  of  four  syllables  is  required  for  the  mea- 
sure ;  but  the  real  name  seems  to  have  been  Iphiclus,  or  Iphicles. 

Page  137,  line  2,  And  thou  in  both  art  chief  and  patternless.]  "  And 
then  in  both,"  &c.,  in  the  old  copy. 

Page  142,  line  2,  Die  by  the  fury,  &c.]  In  the  old  edition,  this  line 
and  the  next  are  printed  in  Italic  type,  to  indicate  probably  that  they 
were  spoken  aside. 

Page  150,  line  23,  Next  you  Alcides.]  So  the  old  copy;  and,  as  it 
may  possibly  be  right,  we  make  no  change,  though  it  seems  more  proper 
to  read,  "  Next  to  Alcides."  In  the  enumeration  of  the  characters  at  the 
beginning  of  the  scene,  the  names  of  Eurytus  and  Silanthus  are  omitted 
in  the  early  edition. 

Page  153,  line  13,  This  Centaur-match,  it  shall,  in  ages.]  The  sense 
is  complete,  though  not  the  metre,  in  this  line.  It  would  be  easy  to 
amend  the  latter,  by  inserting  "  after  "  before  "  ages ;"  but  we  prefer  an 
adherence  to  the  ancient  text,  though  possibly  defective. 

Page  154,  line  31,  I  scal'd  the  thunder1  d  throne.]  We  ought,  perhaps, 
here  to  read  Thunderer's,  for  "  thunder  d,  and  the  first  words  of  the 
next  line  seem  to  support  the  emendation ;  but  the  sense  is  evident  with- 
out any  change. 

Page  156,  line  1,  Actus  IV.,  Scaena  I.]  This  division  is  wanting  in 
the  old  copy ;  and  the  same  observation  will  apply  to  Act  V.,  although 
Acts  I.,  II.,  and  III.,  are  duly  marked. 

Page  158,  line  16,  Enter  Juno,  &c.]    The  words,  "with  the  Servant," 


NOTES  TO  THE  SILVER  AGE.  179 

are  not  in  the  old  copy,  nor  is  the  previous  exit  of  the  Servant  there 
mentioned.     Both  are  necessary. 

Page  161,  line  27,  Wouldst  thou  have  godhood?~\  Used  in  the  same 
way  as  we  still  employ  widowhood  (meaning  the  condition  of  a  widow) 
and  some  other  words;  but  in  most  instances  the  last  syllable,  "hood," 
has  been,  in  modern  times,  corrupted  to  head. 

Page  164,  line  32,  Yet  come  we  not  with  those  sharp  thunders  armed.] 
These,  in  the  original,  but  what  follows  proves  it  to  be  a  misprint. 

Page  lee^line  12,  To  cheer  Proserpine.]  Her  name  was  accidentally 
omitted  in  the  old  copy. 

Page  168,  line  5,  Gnaw  upon  your  cruded  bones.]  Sic  in  orig. ;  but 
the  precise  meaning  Hey  wood  attached  to  the  word  "cruded"  seems 
doubtful.  Baret,  in  his  "  Alvearie,"  1580,  tells  us,  that  to  "  crud"  is  to 
coagulate;  but  that  sense  will  hardly  suit  the  passage,  and  it  is  only 
another  form  of  curd.  "  Cruded  bones"  may  be  a  misprint  for  crushed 
bones. 

Page  168,  line  20,  Stickle  amongst  you.]  To  "  stickle,"  generally 
means  to  separate  combatants,  and  sticklers  were  sometimes  taken  for 
arbitrators,  or  judges.  In  "  Troilus  and  Cressida,"  act  v.,  sc.  9,  Achilles 
says — 

"  The  dragon  wing  of  night  o'erspreads  the  earth, 
And,  stickler-like,  the  armies  separates." 

In  the  instance  before  us,  Hercules  was  about  to  use  his  club  as  a  stickler 
between  Theseus  and  Cerberus,  to  part  them. 

Page  169,  line  31,  Danaids,  spare  your  tubs.]  "  Danae,  spare  your 
tubs,"  in  the  old  copy;  but  all  the  daughters  of  Danais,  excepting 
Hypermnestra,  were  condemned  to  the  punishment  in  hell  of  filling  ves- 
sels, out  of  which  the  water  ran  as  fast  as  it  was  poured  in. 

Page  170,  line  15,  With  their  wiry  strings.]  So  in  the  old  copy,  and 
perhaps  rightly ;  but  stings  might  suit  the  sense  better. 

Page  170,  line  17,  I'll  ding  thee  to  the  lowest  Barathrum.]  To  ding- 
down  was  formerly  not  an  uncommon  phrase;  it  is  from  the  Anglo- 
Saxon,  in  which  language  "to  ding"  means  to  beat  or  strike  down. 

Page  172,  line  3,  Ceres.]  The  names  stand  in  the  same  way  in  the 
old  stage-direction :  probably  Ceres  had  been  forgotten,  and  was  inserted 
afterwards  at  the  end. 


N  2 


F.  Shoberl,  Jan.,  Printer,  Rupert  Street,  Haymarket. 


REPORT     OF     THE     COUNCIL 

OP  THE 

TENTH  ANNUAL  MEETING 

OF  THE  MEMBERS  OF 

THE    SHAKESPEARE    SOCIETY, 

HELD   ON   THE    26TH    OF   APRIL,    1851, 

AT  THE  ROOMS  OF  THE  ROYAL  SOCIETY  OF  LITERATURE, 
NO  4,  ST.  MARTIN'S  PLACE,  TRAFALGAR  SQUARE,  LONDON. 


COUNCIL 

OF 

THE    SHAKESPEARE    SOCIETY. 


THE  EARL  OP  ELLESMERE. 


THE  RT.  HON.  THE  EARL  OF  CLARENDON. 
THE  RT.  HON.  THE  EARL  OF  GLENGALL. 
THE  RT.  HON.  THE  EARL  HOWE. 
THE  RT.  HON.  LORD  BRAYBROOKE. 
THE  RT.  HON.  THE  VICE-CHANCELLOR  SIR  JAMES 
KNIGHT  BRUCE. 

Council. 

WILLIAM  AYRTON,  ESQ.,  F.R.S.,  F.S.A. 

ROBERT  BELL,  ESQ. 

BAYLE  BERNARD,  ESQ. 

J.  PAYNE  COLLIER,  ESQ.,  V.P.S.A.,  DIRECTOR. 

W.  DURRANT  COOPER,  ESQ.,  F.S.A. 

BOLTON  CORNEY,  ESQ.,  M.R.S.L. 

PETER  CUNNINGHAM,  ESQ.,  F.S.A.,  TREASURER. 

THE  VERY  REVEREND  THE  DEAN  OF  ST.  PAUL'S. 

JOHN  FORSTER,  ESQ. 

J.  O.  HALLIWELL,  ESQ.,  F.R.S.,  F.S.A. 

THE  REV.  WILLIAM  HARNESS. 

JAMES  HEY  WOOD,  ESQ.,  M.P. 

DOUGLAS  JERROLD,  ESQ. 

CHARLES  KNIGHT,  ESQ. 

WILLIAM  CHARLES  MACREADY,  ESQ. 

THE  HON.  GEORGE  O'CALLAGHAN. 

FREDERIC  OUVRY,  ESQ.,  F.S.A. 

T.  J.  PETTIGREW,  ESQ.,  F.R.S.,  F.S.A. 

WILLIAM  JOHN  THOMS,  ESQ.,  F.S.A. 

HIS  EXCELLENCY  M.  DE  SILVAIN  VAN  DE  WEYER. 

F.  GUEST  TOMLINS,  ESQ.,  SECRETARY. 


This  Council  will  continue  till  the  26th  of  April,  1852. 


REPORT  OF  THE  COUNCIL 

OF 

THE    SHAKESPEARE    SOCIETY, 

TO  THE 

TENTH  ANNUAL  MEETING  OF  THE  MEMBERS, 

HELD, 

ON  THE  26TH  APRIL,  1851, 

AT  THE  ROOMS  OF  THE  ROYAL  SOCIETY  OF  LITERATURE,  NO.  4, 
ST.  MARTIN'S  PLACE,  TRAFALGAR  SQUARE,  LONDON. 


In  addressing  the  Members  of  the  Shakespeare  Society  for 
the  tenth  time,  and  in  the  eleventh  year  of  the  existence  of  the 
Society,  the  Council  beg  to  congratulate  their  fellow-subscribers 
on  the  continued  prosperity  of  the  Society,  and  the  interest 
evinced  by  the  Members  generally  and  by  the  public  at  large 
in  the  character  of  the  publications. 

The  Council,  it  is  true,  would  have  been  able  to  have  accom- 
plished more  than  it  was  able  to  accomplish  in  the  past  year, 
had  many  of  the  Members  paid  their  subscriptions  at  an  earlier 
period ;  but  this  dilatoriness  in  paying  (which  the  Council  is 
willing  to  hope  this  representation  will  help  to  remedy)  is  not 
the  sole  reason  for  the  delay  in  the  issue  of  the  publications 
promised  or  referred  to  in  the  last  Report. 

It  has  been  a  source  of  regret  to  the  Council  that  the  Disser- 
tation on  the  Portraits  of  Shakespeare,  for  which  many  Members 
are  anxiously  waiting,  has  not  yet  been  completed.  Our 
excellent  Director,  to  whom  the  Society  is  so  much  indebted, 


6  TENTH  ANNUAL  REPORT  OF 

has  suffered  lately  from  ill  health,  and  has  had  many  occupations 
of  a  private  nature  to  draw  his  attention  away  from  the  subject ; 
but  he  has  not,  the  Council  feel  assured,  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree abated  the  attention  to  and  interest  in  the  Society  he  has 
so  constantly  and  ably  manifested.  He  now  only  awaits,  to 
complete  his  undertaking,  for  a  report  on  the  Kneller  copy  of 
the  Chandos  Portrait,  in  the  possession  of  Earl  Fitzwilliam  at 
Wentworth  Wood  House,  in  Yorkshire. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Lord  Fitzwilliam,  in  reply  to 
an  application  from  the  Council  to  inspect  the  Portrait,  expres- 
sed his  unwillingness  to  bring  the  picture  to  London,  but  his 
perfect  readiness,  at  the  same  time,  to  allow  any  gentleman 
connected  with  the  Society  to  see  it  at  his  seat  in  Yorkshire. 
Some  delay  was  occasioned  by  this  arrangement ;  Mr.  Collier 
and  the  Council  feeling  that  he  could  not  put  forth  his  Disser- 
tation without  some  account  of  the  picture.  The  delay,  how- 
ever, was  not  altogether  unfortunate  ;  for,  at  the  request  of  the 
Treasurer,  Dr.  Waagen,  the  justly  celebrated  director  of  the 
Berlin  Gallery,  kindly  undertook,  during  a  tour  of  picture- 
seeing  in  Yorkshire,  to  examine  the  portrait  in  question,  and 
report  to  the  Treasurer  his  opinion  of  it  on  his  return.  This 
Dr.  Waagen  (who  was  presented  with  a  copy  of  Mr.  Cousins's 
engraving  to  compare  with  the  picture)  has  done  verbally  to 
the  Treasurer,  and  has  now  undertaken  to  provide  a  paper  for 
insertion  in  Mr.  Collier's  Dissertation. 

Great  progress  has  been  made,  the  Society  will  be  glad  to 
hear,  in  the  third  volume  of  Extracts  from  the  Registers  of  the 
Stationers'  Company.  But  the  work  can  advance  but  slowly, 
owing  to  regulations  of  the  Company,  and  the  necessity  of 
having  every  extract  made  by  the  pen  of  our  Director.  This 
arrangement,  while  it  delays  the  work,  saves  an  expence  to  the 
Society,  but,  more  than  all,  it  ensures  that  every  extract  will 
be  copied  with  care  and  fidelity,  and  seeing  by  what  vigilant 
eyes  the  transcripts  are  made  that  no  entry  of  moment  will  be 
overlooked. 


THE  SHAKESPEARE  SOCIETY.  7 

Mr.  Cunningham  has  an  order  from  the  Council  to  proceed 
to  press  with  Oldys's  Notes  on  Langbaine,  and  would  have 
availed  himself  of  the  order  earlier  than  he  has  yet  done,  but 
for  his  anxiety,  which  the  Society  will  appreciate  in  common 
with  the  Council,  to  insert  the  result  of  the  fresh  researches  he 
has  been  making  among  wills  and  parish  registers  for  facts  of 
moment  connected  with  the  lives  which  Oldys  has  so  impor- 
tantly annotated. 

Mr.  Bolton  Corney  is  busy,  the  Council  is  glad  to  know, 
with  his  important  volume  of  notices  of  Shakespeare  and  his 
Works,  from  the  earliest  period  to  the  publication  of  the 
Theatrum  Poetarum.  The  extracts  will  be  arranged  chrono- 
logically, and  will,  when  completed,  form  a  curious  history  of 
contemporary  opinion  on  the  merits  of  the  great  man  whose 
name  has  called  our  Society  into  existence. 

After  this  account  of  promises,  and,  as  the  Council  trusts, 
reasonable  excuses  for  delays  in  completing  some  engagements 
of  rather  old  standing,  it  is  now  their  duty  to  report  to  the 
Society  what  has  actually  been  done  during  the  past  year. 

Since  the  last  report,  the  two  following  volumes  have  been 
issued  to  the  Society : — 

1.  The  Remarks  of  M.Karl  Simrock  on  the  PLOTS  OF  SHAKESPEARE'S 
PLAYS,  with  notes  and  additions  by  J.  O.  HALLIWELL,  Esq. 

2.  Two  Historical  Plays  on  the  LIFE  AND  REIGN  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH, 
by  THOMAS  HEYWOOD,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes  by  J.  PAYNE 
COLLIER,  Esq. 

The  latter  publication  was  the  first  issue  on  account  of  the 
subscription  due  on  the  1st  January  last,  and  will  be  followed 
in  a  fortnight  hence  by  : — 

THE  GOLDEN  AGE  ;  OR,  THE  LIVES  OF  JUPITER  AND  SATURN,  WITH 
THE  DEFINING  OF  THE  HEATHEN  GODS.  And  THE  SILVER  AGE,  IN- 
CLUDING THE  LOVE  OF  JUPITER  TO  ALCMENA,  THE  BIRTH  OF  HERCULES, 
AND  THE  RAPE  OF  PROSERPINE.  Two  Plays  by  Thomas  Heywood. 
Reprinted  from  the  original  editions  of  1611  and  1613.  Edited  by 
J.  PAYNE  COLLIER: 

completing  the   second  volume  of  the  edition  of  Heywood's 


8  TENTH  ANNUAL  REPORT  OF 

Works,  which  the  Society  has  pledged  itself  to  complete,  and 
which,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  statement  of  the  Auditors,  is 
possessed  of  an  interest  beyond  the  Members  of  the  Society. 

Since  their  last  Eeport,  the  Council  has  undertaken  to  extend 
a  knowledge  of  the  works  of  the  Society,  by  the  publica- 
tion of  a  supplement  to  Dodsley's  Old  Plays,  in  four  volumes 
octavo,  and  limited  to  one  hundred  copies.  The  collection  will 
be  found  to  range  in  size  with  the  large  paper  copies  of  the 
latest  and  best  edition  of  Dodsley  printed  in  1825,  and  with  the 
editions  of  Shakespeare,  Ben  Jonson,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher, 
Massinger,  Ford,  &c.,  superintended  by  Mr.  Collier,  Mr. 
Knight,  Mr.  Dyce,  and  Mr.  Gifford. 

The  volumes,  however,  will  be  found  to  contain  other  merits 
than  their  dramatic  character  and  mere  uniformity  of  size  with  a 
work  generally  to  be  met  with  in  all  good  libraries.  The  first 
two  volumes  will  comprise  the  most  remarkable  collections  of 
Miracle  Plays  that  have  been  preserved  to  us  ;  the  third  volume 
will  contain  our  earliest  English  Comedy,  "Ralph  Roister 
Doister,"  (not  hitherto  included  in  any  collection  of  old  plays) ; 
our  earliest  English  tragedy  "  Gorbodue"  (printed  for  the 
first  time  from  the  first  edition)  ;  two  plays,  anterior  to 
Shakespeare,  "  Timon,"  and  "  Sir  Thomas  More,"  both  printed 
for  the  first  time,  and  both  edited  by  Mr.  Dyce,  and  the 
Comedy  of  "  Patient  Grissell,"  the  joint  composition  of  Dekker, 
Chettle,  and  Haughton. 

It  is,  however,  to  the  fourth  volume  and  its  four  plays  that 
the  Council  of  the  Society  would  wish  to  direct  more  particular 
attention,  containing,  as  that  volume  does,  the  first  sketch  of 
the  "  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor  ;"  the  first  sketch  of  the 
second  and  third  parts  of  "  Henry  VI. ;"  a  reprint  of  the 
"  Taming  of  a  Shrew,"  on  which  Shakespeare  founded  his 
"  Taming  of  the  Shrew ;"  and  the  "  True  Tragedy  of  Rich- 
ard III.,"  a  play  anterior  to  the  "  History,"  on  the  same  sub- 
ject by  Shakespeare,  and  which  there  is  every  reason  to  believe 
Shakespeare  had  seen. 


THE  SHAKESPEARE  SOCIETY.  9 

The  names  of  the  Editors  are  the  late  Thomas  Amyot,  Esq., 
J.  Payne  Collier,  Esq.,  W.  Durrant  Cooper,  Esq.,  Eev.  A. 
Dyce,  the  late  Barron  Field,  Esq.,  J.  O.  Halliwell,  Esq.,  and 
Thomas  Wright,  Esq.  The  price  of  the  four  volumes  to 
Members  of  the  Society  will  be  30s. ;  to  non-Members  «£*2. 
Members,  however,  who  wish  to  bind  the  books  they  already 
have,  into  a  Dodsley  for  themselves,  may  obtain  the  title- 
pages,  advertisement,  additional  notes,  corrections,  &c.,  price 
Five  Shillings. 

Since  the  last  Report,  the  Society  has  had  the  misfortune  to 
lose  by  death  one  of  its  Vice-Presidents,  Lord  Leigh,  a  Mem- 
ber of  its  Council  from  the  very  first ;  and  the  Editor  of  one 
of  its  publications,  the  accomplished  Thomas  Amyot ;  and  two 
Members  who  always  evinced  an  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the 
Society,  the  Marquess  of  Northampton  and  Dr.  Thackeray, 
the  Provost  of  King's  College. 

The  vacancy  in  the  Vice-Presidents,  caused  by  the  lamented 
death  of  Lord  Leigh,  has  been  supplied  by  the  election  of  the 
Right  Honourable  Sir  James  Knight  Bruce,  the  Vice-Chan- 
cellor, who  has  from  the  commencement  evinced  a  warm  inte- 
rest in  the  welfare  of  the  Society. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  works  in  different  states  of  pre- 
paration : — 

1.  A  Second  Volume  of  SKETCHES  FOR  DRAMATIC  PERFORMANCES 
AT  COURT,  in  the  reigns  of  James  I.  and  Charles  I. ;  including  designs 
for  Scenery,  by  Inigo  Jones. 

2.  NOTICES  OF  SHAKESPEARE  AND  HIS  WORKS,  from  the  earliest 
period  to  the  publication  of  the  "Theatrum  Poetarum,"  in  1675;  with 
memoranda,  drawn  from  other  sources,  of  his  personal  and  literary  his- 
tory.    By  BOLTON  CORNEY,  Esq. 

3.  A  volume  of  the  Names,  Lives,  and  Characters  of  the  original 
Actors  in  the  Plays  of  MARLOWE,  GREENE,  PEELE,  LODGE,  NASH,  BEN 
JONSON,  BEAUMONT  AND  FLETCHER,  CHAPMAN,  DEKKER,  WEBSTER, 
HEYWOOD,  MIDDLETON,  MASSINGER,   FORD,   &c.,    alphabetically   ar- 
ranged. 

4.  A  volume  of  the  Lives  of  the  principal  Performers  in  SHAKE- 
SPEARE'S Plays,  from  the  Restoration  of  Charles  II.  to  Garrick's  first 


10  TENTH  ANNUAL  REPORT  OF 

appearance  on  the  Stage.     Chronologically  arranged.     By  PETEK  CUN- 
NINGHAM, F.S.A. 

The  following  are  among  the  suggested  publications  : — 

1.  A  Dissertation  on  the  COSTUME  AND  APPLIANCES  OF  THE  STAGE, 
in  the  time  of  Shakespeare ;  illustrated  by  engravings  of  some  of  the 
Characters  in  old  Dramas,  as  they  were  dressed  for  performance. 

2.  A  Volume  of  BALLADS  UPON  WHICH  OLD  PLAYS  WERE  FOUNDED, 
OR  WHICH  WERE  FOUNDED  UPON  OLD  PLAYS  ;   including  all  those  em- 
ployed by  Shakespeare,  and  many  others  in  the  Roxburghe  Collection 
now  deposited  in  the  British  Museum.     To  be  edited  by  W.  D.  COOPER, 
Esq.,  F.S.A. 

3.  THE  MIRROR  OF  MONSTERS  :  an  attack  upon  theatrical  performances 
in  1587  by  WILLIAM  RANKINS,  who  afterwards  became  a  Dramatic  Poet, 
and  the  author  of  Satires,  &c.,  printed  in  1596. 

4.  A  PLAY  ON  THE  STORY  OF  ROMEO  AND  JULIET,  from  an  inedited 
MS.  in  Latin,  of  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.     By  J.  O.  HALLIWELL, 
Esq.,  F.R.S. 

5.  THE  DEFENCE  OF  PLAYS  AND  PLAYERS,  by  THOMAS  LODGE,  being 
an  answer  to  Stephen  Gosson's  School  of  Abuse,  1579.     Printed  without 
date ;  and  without  title-page,  in  consequence  of  the  condemnation  of  it  by 
the  public  authorities. 

The  publication  of  these  works  will,  however,  materially 
depend  on  the  funds  at  the  disposal  of  the  Society.  To  enable 
the  Council  to  become  more  active,  the  Members  themselves, 
in  arrear  with  their  subscriptions,  can  at  once  materially  con- 
tribute. 

Signed, 

By  order  of  the  Council, 

F.  Gr.  TOMLINS,  Secretary. 


THE  SHAKESPEARE  SOCIETY. 


11 


REPORT  OF  THE  AUDITORS. 

We,  the  Auditors  appointed  to  audit  the  Receipts  and 
Expenditure  of  the  Shakespeare  Society,  certify  that  the 
Treasurer  has  exhibited  to  us  his  Accounts  from  the  23rd  of 
April,  1850,  to  the  24th  of  April,  1851  ;  that  we  have 
examined  the  same,  together  with  the  vouchers  in  support 
thereof,  and  find  the  whole  Account  correct  and  satisfactory. 

And  we  further  report  that  the  following  is  a  correct 
Abstract  of  the  Receipts  and  Expenditure  of  the  Society  for 
the  above  period. 


RECEIPTS. 

PAYMENTS. 

£     *.     d. 
Balance  on  the  24th  April, 
1850,    as  per  Report  of 
Auditors       21   17  7 

To  Mr.  Shoberl,  on  account, 
for  Printing      .... 
To  Messrs.  Westley  &  Co., 

£ 
100 

t, 
0 

d. 
0 

Arrear    Subscriptions    for 
years  prior  to  the  1st  of 
January,  1850  ....       13     0  0 
Subscriptions  due  1st  Janu- 
ary, 1850      79     0  0 

To  Messrs.  Skeffington  and 
Southwell,  Agents  to  the 
Society,  for  the  delivery 
of  Books  from  1st  Janu- 

Subscriptions due  1st  Janu- 
ary  1851      11900 

ary,  1850,  to  31st  March, 
1851,  and  for  Postage  for 

Sale  of  15  copies  of  Hey- 
wood's  Works.  Vol.  I.    .         576 

the  same  period     .     . 
The  Secretary  for  one  half- 

25 
26 

0 
5 

0 

o 

From    the    Library    Com- 
mittee of  the  Bank    of 
England   for  nine  years' 
subscriptions,  allowed  at 
half-price  ;theCommittee 
subscribing  since  1850  at 
full  price       4  10  0 

To  the  Royal  Society  of  Li- 
terature, for  One  Year's 
use  of  the  Council  Room 
to  15th  December,  1850 
Transcripts,  Extracts  from 
Wills,  Searches,  &c.  .     . 

12 
13 

0 
12 

0 
0 

1  Artist's  proof  of  Chandos 
Portrait  300 

Advertisements    .... 
Gratuity  to  Doorkeeper  of 

12 

11 

6 

4  Director's  proof  of  Chan- 
dos Portrait       ....         800 
Sale  of  Volsr.  I.,  II.,  &  III. 
of  Shakespeare  Society's 

Royal  Society  of  Litera- 
ture,    Treasurer's     Ex- 
penses, and   other  petty 
Disbursements       .     .     . 

8 

6 

0 

Papers  to  a  Member  of 
the  Society  0  15  0 

224 

16 

10 

Balance  in  the  hands  of  the 
Treasurer     

29 

14 

3 

254   10  1 


254   10     1 


12  TENTH  ANNUAL  REPORT  OF 

And  we  the  Auditors  have  further  to  report  that,  over  and 
above  the  present  balance  of  £29  14s.  3d.,  there  is  still  a  large 
sum  due  to  the  Society  on  the  Subcriptions  for  1850,  as  well 
as  those  of  prior  years.  We  have  also  to  observe  that  the 
receipts  for  the  present  year,  though  £25  more  than  the  year 
before,  are  still  very  much  less  than  is  due  from  the  actual 
Members  of  the  Society ;  but  we  are  glad  to  be  informed  that 
a  Collector,  recently  appointed,  is  now  actively  employed  in 
collecting  both  the  arrear  and  current  subscriptions.  The 
number  of  Members  borne  on  the  books  of  the  Society  is  451, 
of  whom  only  126  are  as  yet  entitled  to  the  publications  of  the 
year. 

The  liabilities  consist,  as  before,  of  a  balance  on  Mr.  ShoberPs 
bill  for  Printing,  and  the  bill  of  Messrs.  Bonsor  for  paper. 
The  arrears  are,  however,  amply  sufficient  to  meet  the  liabilities 
of  the  Society. 

LEWIS  POCOCK. 

JOHN  GOUGH  NICHOLS. 


THE  SHAKESPEARE  SOCIETY.  13 


ANNUAL  MEETING,  26th  APRIL,  1851. 


The  Report  of  the  Council  and  the  Report  of  the  Auditors  having 
been  read,  the  following  Resolutions  were  passed : — 

RESOLUTION  I.  That  the  Report  of  the  Council  for  the  past  year  be 
received  and  printed,  and  that  the  thanks  of  the  Society  be  given  to  the 
Council  for  their  services. 

RESOLUTION  II.  That  the  Report  of  the  Auditors  be  received  and 
printed,  and  that  the  thanks  of  the  Society  be  given  to  them  for  their 


RESOLUTION  III.  That  the  thanks  of  the  Society  be  given  to  the 
Editors  of  the  various  works  issued  during  the  past  year  :  viz.,  to  James 
Orchard  Halliwell,  Esq.,  for  editing  Karl  Simrock's  Remarks  on  the  Plots 
of  Shakespeare's  Plays  with  notes  and  additions ;  and  John  Payne  Collier, 
Esq.,  for  editing  two  historical  plays  by  Thomas  Hey  wood,  entitled  "  If 
you  Know  not  Me  you  Know  Nobody;  or,  the  Troubles  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth." 

RESOLUTION  IV.  That  the  thanks  of  the  Society  be  given  to  the 
Director,  Treasurer,  and  Secretary,  for  their  services. 

RESOLUTION  V.  That  the  thanks  of  the  Meeting  be  given  to  the 
Royal  Society  of  Literature,  for  the  use  of  their  Library  for  the  assembly 
of  the  Members  on  the  present  occasion. 


14  TENTH  ANNUAL  REPORT. 

THE  RT.  HON.  SIR  JAMES  KNIGHT  BRUCE,  VICE-CHANCELLOR, 
CHARLES  DICKENS,  ESQ.,  SIR  HENRY  ELLIS,  K.H.,  SWYNFEN 
JERVIS,  ESQ.,  AND  MR.  JUSTICE  TALFOURD,  retiring  from  the 
Council,  the  vacancies  were  filled  up  by  the  unanimous  election  of 

ROBERT  BELL,  ESQ. 

THE  VERY  REVEREND  THE  DEAN  OF  ST.  PAUL'S. 

DOUGLAS  JERROLD,  ESQ. 

CHARLES  KNIGHT,  ESQ. 

WILLIAM  CHARLES  MACREADY,  ESQ. 

The  remaining  Members  of  the  Council  were  re-elected. 

The  following  Members  were  also  elected  Auditors  for  the  year  ending 
26th  of  April,  1852. 

JOSHUA  W.  BUTTERWORTH,  ESQ. 
SAMUEL  HICKSON,  ESQ. 
GEORGE  SMITH,  ESQ. 


AGENTS  TO  THE  SOCIETY, 

Messrs.  SKEFFINGTON  and  SOUTHWELL,  192,  Piccadilly, 
London,  who  are  empowered  to  receive  Subscriptions,  and  to 
whom  all  letters  relative  to  the  delivery  of  the  books  must  be 
addressed. 


*#*  The  Subscription  to  the  Society  is  £\  per  annum,  payable 
in  advance  on  the  1st  January  in  each  year,  which  entitles  the 
Subscriber  to  all  the  books  published  in  the  year  for  which  the 
Subscription  is  made. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


SECT)  CDC.  GBf 

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"V30  1979 


nans  K 


Book  Slip-35m-9,'62(D2218s4)4280 


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PR  2574  G56  1851 


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