He shall give payment of a royal prize,
To Fortune judgment, and to Cupid eyes.
For. Be a merchant, I will freight thee

With all store that time is bought for.

Cup. Be a lover, I will wait thee

With success in life most sought for. For. Be enamour'd on bright honour,

And thy greatness shall shine glorious.

Cup. Chastity, if thou smile on her,

Shall grow servile, thou victorious,

For. Be a warrior, conquest ever

Shall triumphantly renown thee,

Cup. Be a courtier, beauty never

Shall but with her duty crown thee. For. Fortune's wheel is thine, depose me;

I'm thy slave, thy power has bound me. Cup. Cupid's shafts are thine, dispose me;

Love loves love; thy graces wound me, Both. Live, reign! pity is fame's jewel; We obey; oh! be not cruel.

Ray. You ravish me with infinites, and lay A bounty of more sovereignty and amazement, Than the Atlas of mortality can support.

Enter, behind, HUMOUR and FOLLY.

Hum. What's here?

Fol. Nay, pray observe.

Ray. Be my heart's empress, build

your king

dom there,

Hum. With what an earnestness he compli

[ments.]

Fol. Upon my life he means to turn costermonger, and is projecting how to forestal the market; I shall cry pippins rarely.

Ray. Till now my longings were ne'er satisfied, And the desires my sensual appetite

Were only fed with, barren expectations
To what I now am fill'd with.

Fol. Yes, we are filled and must be emptied; these wind-fruits have distended my guts into a lenten pudding, there's no fat in them; my belly swells, but my sides fall away: a month of such diet would make me a living anatomy.

Pom. These are too little; more are due to him,

That is the pattern of his father's glory:

Dwell but amongst us, industry shall strive
To make another artificial nature,

And change all other seasons into ours.

Hum. Shall my heart break? I can contain no longer. [Comes forward, with FOLLY.

Ray. How fares my loved Humour ?

Hum. A little stirr'd; -no matter, I'll be

Call for some music-do not ;-I'll be melancholy. Fol. A sullen humour; and common in a dicer that has lost all his money.

Pom. Lady, I hope 'tis no neglect of courtesy In us, that so disturbs you; if it rise

From any discontent, reveal the cause;

It shall be soon removed.

Hum. Oh, my heart!Help to unlace my gown.

Fol. And unlace your petticoat.

Hum. Saucy, how now!-'tis well you have some sweetheart,

Some new fresh sweetheart; [To RAY.]—I'm a goodly fool

To be thus play'd on, staled and foil'd.

Pom. Why, madam?

We can be courteous without stain of honour:
'Tis not the raging of a lustful blood

That we desire to tame with satisfaction,
Nor have his masculine graces in our breast
Kindled a wanton fire; our bounty gives him
A welcome free, but chaste and honourable.
Hum. Nay, 'tis all one; I have a tender

heart:

Come, come, let's drink.

Fol. A humour in fashion with gallants, and brought out of the Low Countries.

Hum. Fie! there's no music in thee;-let us sing.

Fol. Here's humour in the right trim! a few more such toys would make the little world of man run mad as the puritan that sold his conscience for a maypole

[A flourish.-Shouts within.

Ray. The meaning of this mirth?
Pom. My lord is coming.

Ray. Let us attend to humble our best thanks, For these high favours.

Enter AUTUMN and BACCHANALIAN.

Pom. My dearest lord, according to th' injunction

Of your command, I have, with all observance,
Given entertainment to this noble stranger.

Aut. The Sun-born Raybright, minion of my love!

Let us be twins in heart; thy grandsire's beams
Shine graciously upon our fruits and vines.
I am his vassal, servant, tributary;

And, for his sake, the kingdoms I possess,
I will divide with thee; thou shalt command
The Lydian Tmolus, and Campanian mounts,
To nod their grape-crown'd heads into thy bowls,
Expressing their rich juice; a hundred grains,
Both from the Beltick and Sicilian fields,
Shall be congested for thy sacrifice,

In Ceres' fane; Tiber shall pay thee apples,
And Sicyon olives; all the choicest fruits
Thy father's heat doth ripen.

Ray. Make me but treasurer

Of your respected favours, and that honour
Shall equal my ambition.

Aut. My Pomona,

Speed to prepare a banquet of [all] novelties.

This is a day of rest, and we, the whiles,
Will sport before our friends, and shorten time
With length of wonted revels.

Pom. I obey.

Will't please you, madam? a retirement

From these extremes in men, more tolerable,
Will better fit our modesties.

Hum. I'll drink,

And be a Bacchanalian-no, I will not.

Enter, I'll follow ;-stay, I'll go before.-
Pom. Even what Humour pleaseth.

[Exeunt HUM. and Poм.

Aut. Raybright, a health to Phoebus!

[A Flourish.-Drinks.

These are the Peans, which we sing to him,
And yet we wear no bays;' our cups are only
Crown'd with Lyæus' blood: to him a health!
[A Flourish.-Drinks.

Ray. I must pledge that too.

Aut. Now, one other health

To our grand patron, call'd Good-fellowship;

Whose livery all our people hereabout

Are clad in.

Ray. I am for that too.

Aut. "Tis well;

[Flourish.-Drinks.

Let it go round; and, as our custom is
Of recreations of this nature, join

Your voices, as you drink, in lively notes;
Sing Iös unto Bacchus.

1 And yet we wear no bays.] The 4to reads: And ye wear no bays. I think this belongs to Raybright, who, on hearing Autumn express his devotion to the Sun, observes, that he does not wear the insignia of that deity; and yet ye wear, &c.; to which the other replies with a boast of his attachment to Bacchus, our cups are only, &c." I have, however, made no change in the former arrangement of the text.

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