5

a

Ray. Divinest!
Hum. Let her go.

. Fol. And I'll go after; for I must and will have a fling at one of her plum-trees.

Ray. I ne'er was scorn'd till now.

Hum. This that Altezza,
That Rhodian wonder gazed at by the Sun !-
I fear'd thine eyes should have beheld a face,
The moon has not a clearer; this! a dowdy.

Fol. An ouzle ; this a queen-apple or a crab she gave you? Hum. She bids you share her treasure; but who

keeps it? Fol. She points to trees great with child with fruit; but when delivered ? grapes hang in ropes; but no drawing, not a drop of wine! whole ears of corn lay their ears together for bread, but the devil a bit I can touch.

Hun. Be ruled by me once more; leave her.

Ray. In scorn, As [s]he does me.

Fol. Scorn! If I be not deceived, I have seen Summer go up and down with hot codlings;' and that little baggage, her daughter Plenty, crying six bunches of raddish for a penny. Hum. Thou shalt have nobler welcome; for I'll

bring thee

s This that Altezza, &c.] The lady Humour appears to have adopted a prodigious scale of magnitude for her admiration. She had before termed Raybright a bedfellow for a fairy ;” and she now quarrels with Summer because she does not resemble a Colossus.,

With hot codlings.] i, e. green pease. See the “Witch of Edmonton.”

а

To a brave and bounteous housekeeper, free

Autumn.
Fol. Oh, there's a lad !-let's

a

go then.

Re-enter PLENTY.
Plen. Where is this prince? my mother, for the

Indies,
Must not have you [de]part.

Ray. Must not ?

Re-enter SUMMER.

a

Sum. No, must not.
I did but chide thee, like a whistling wind,
Playing with leafy dancers: when I told thee
I hated thee, I lied; I dote upon thee.
Unlock my garden of the Hesperides,
By dragons kept, (the apples being pure gold)
Take all that fruit; 'tis thine.

Plen. Love but my mother,
I'll give thee corn enough to feed the world.

Ray. I need not golden apples, nor your corn;
What land soe'er the world's surveyor, the Sun,
Can measure in a day, I dare call mine:
All kingdoms I have right to ; I am free

;
Of every country; in the four elements
I have as deep a share as an emperor;
All beasts whom the earth bears are to serve me,
All birds to sing to me; and can you catch me
With a tempting golden apple ?

Plen. She's too good for thee.
When she was born, the Sun for joy did rise
Before his time, only to kiss those eyes,

Which having touch'd, he stole from them such store
Of lights, he shone more bright than e'er before;
At which he vow'd, whenever she did die,
He'd snatch them up, and in his sister's sphere
Place them, since she had no two stars so clear,

Ray. Let him now snatch them up; away!

Huni. Away,
And leave this gipsy.

Sum. Oh, I am lost.8
Ray. Lost?
Sum. Scorn'd!-
Ray. Of no triumph more then love can boast.

[Exit with Humour and Folly. Plen. This strumpet will confound him, she

has me. Sum. Deluded !

[Recorders.

The Sun re-appears, with Cupid and FORTUNE. Sun. Is Raybright gone ?

Sum. Yes, and his spiteful eyes Have shot darts through me.

7

8

stole from them such store Of lights, he shone more bright, &c.] The 4to. reads : Of light she shone, &c. : A slight mistake, occasioned by transferring the s from the preceding word to that which immediately follows it.

This drama is wretchedly printed; and the wonted carelessness i Decker, in the arrangement of bis metre, renders every attempt at emendation difficult, as well as hazardous. The speeches above stand thus in the 4to.

Sum. Oh, I am lost.

Ray. Love scorn'd
Of no triumph more then love can boast.

[Exit. Plen. This strumpet will confound him. Sum. She has me deluded.

Sun. I thy wounds will cure, And lengthen out thy days;' his followers gone, Cupid and Fortune, take you charge of him. Here thou, my brightest queen, must end thy.

reign; Some nine months hence I'll shine on thee again.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

The Court of AUTUMN.

Enter POMONA, RAYBRIGHT, Cupid, and For

TUNE.

Ray. Your entertainments, Autumn's bounteous

queen,
Have feasted me with rarities as delicate,
As the full growth of an abundant year
Can ripen to my palate.

Pom. They are but courtings
Of gratitude to our dread lord, the Sun,

From whom thou draw'st thy name: the feast of

fruits Our gardens yield are much too coarse for thee; Could we contract the choice of nature's plenty Into one form, and that form to contain All delicacies, which the wanton sense Would relish, or desire to invent, to please it, The present were unworthy far to purchase A sacred league of friendship.

Ray. I have rioted In surfeits of the ear, with various music Of warbling birds; I have smelt perfumes of roses, And every flower, with which the fresh-trimm'd

earth Is mantled in: the Spring could mock my senses With these fine barren lullabies; the Summer Invited

my then ranging eyes to look on Large fields of ripen'd corn, presenting trifles Of waterish petty dainties; but my taste Is only here pleas’d: the other objects claim The style of formal, these are real bounties. Pom. We can transcend thy wishes; whom the

creatures Of every age and quality post, madding, From land to land and sea to sea, to meet, Shall wait upon thy nod, Fortune and Cupid. Love! yield thy quiver and thine arrows up To this great prince of time; before him, Fortune! Pour out thy mint of treasures; crown him sove

reign Of what his thoughts can glory to command :