TO MY WORTHY AUTHOR, MR. JOHN FLETCHER, UPON HIS FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS. The wise and many-beaded bench, that sits (Composed of gamester, captain, knight, knight's man, Lady, or pucelle, that wears mask or fan, Velvet, or taffata cap, rank'd in the dark With the shop's foreman, or some such brave spark, They saw it half, damn'd thy whole play; and, more, I, that am glad thy innocence was thy guilt, Do crown thy murdered poem; which shall rise Or moths shall eat what all these fools admire. BEN JONSON. TO HIS LOVING FRIEND, MR. JOHN FLETCHER, CONCERNING HIS PASTORAL BEING There are no sureties, good friend, will be taken A scholar that's a poet : their names strike So were your play no poem, but a thing That every cobler to his patch might sing, A rout of nifles, like the multitude, With no one limb of any art endued; preas Like would to like, and praise you. But, because Your poem only hath by us applause, Renews the golden world, and holds through all Where flowers and founts, and nymphs and semi-gods, And all the graces find their old abodes; Where forests flourish but in endless verse, This iron age, that eats itself, will never G. CHAPMAN. ACT I. Diph. You are the brother to the king, my lord; We'll take your word. Lys. Strato, thou hast some skill in poetry: What think'st thou of the masque? will it be well? Strat. As well as masque can be. Lys. As masque can be? Strat. Yes; they must commend their king, and speak in praise Of the assembly; bless the bride and bridegroom In person of some god. They are tied to rules Of flattery. Cle. See, good my lord, who is return'd! Enter MELANTIUS. Lys. Noble Melantius! the land, by me, The breath of kings is like the breath of gods; Mel. My lord, my thanks; but these scratch'd Have spoke my love and truth unto my friends, Diph. Hail, worthy brother! I sent for thee to exercise thine arms [same But thou art [faulty; With me at Patria: Thou camest not, Diphilus ; 'Twas ill. Diph. My noble brother, my excuse Is my king's strict command; which you, my lord, Lys. 'Tis true, Melantius; Diph. Have you heard of it? Mel. Yes. I have given cause to those that envy My deeds abroad, to call me gamesome: I have no other business here at Rhodes. Mel. These soft and silken wars are not for me: Diph. This day. Mel. All joys upon him! for he is friend. And one that never thinks his life his own, I brought home conquest) he would gaze upon me, Enter ASPATIA. Hail, maid and wife! Thou fair Aspatia, may the holy knot B Unto Amintor, that may fill the world In safety! Victory sits on his sword, Successively with soldiers! Asp. My hard fortunes Deserve not scorn; for I was never proud When they were good. Mel. How's this? Lys. You are mistaken, For she is not married. Mel. You said Amintor was. Diph. 'Tis true; but Mel. Pardon me, I did receive Letters at Patria from my Amintor, Diph. And so it stood In all opinion long; but your arrival Made me imagine you had heard the change. Mel. Who hath he taken then? Lys. A lady, sir, [Exit. That bears the light about her, and strikes dead With flashes of her eye: the fair Evadne, Your virtuous sister. Mel. Peace of heart betwixt them! But this is strange. Lys. The king my brother did it To honour you; and these solemnities Mel. 'Tis royal, like himself. But I am sad Bent long against me; and he should not think, Lys. Yes. But this lady Walks discontented, with her watery eyes Mel. She has a brother under my command, Enter AMINTOR. Cle. My lord, the bridegroom! Mel. I might run fiercely, not more hastily, Upon my foe. I love thee well, Amintor; My mouth is much too narrow for my heart; I joy to look upon those eyes of thine; Thou art my friend, but my disorder'd speech Cuts off my love. Amin. Thou art Melantius; All love is spoke in that. A sacrifice, To thank the gods Melantius is return'd As she was wont: May she build there and dwell; And may thy armour be, as it hath been, Only thy valour and thine innocence ! What endless treasures would our enemies give, That I might hold thee still thus ! Mel. I am but poor In words; but credit me, young man, thy mother Amin. Pardon, thou holy god Of marriage bed, and frown not, I am forced, Mel. I fear thou'rt grown too fickle; for I hear A lady mourns for thee; men say, to death; Forsaken of thee; on what terms I know not. Amin. She had my promise; but the king forbade it, And made me make this worthy change, thy sister, With whom I long to lose my lusty youth, Mel. Be prosperous ! SCENE II.-A large Hall in the same, with a Gallery full of Spectators. Enter CALIANAX, with DIAGORAS at the Door. Cal. Diagoras, look to the doors better for shame; you let in all the world, and anon the king will rail at me-why, very well said-by Jove, the king will have the show i' th' court. Diag. Why do you swear so, my lord? You know, he'll have it here. Cal. By this light, if he be wise, he will not. Diag. And if he will not be wise, you are for have made room at my daughter's wedding: they Mel. [within.] Open the door. Mel. [within.] Melantius. Diag. I hope your lordship brings no troop with you; for, if you do, I must return them. [Opens the door. Persons endeavour to rush in. Enter MELANTIUS and a Lady. Mel. None but this lady, sir. Diag. The ladies are all placed above, save those that come in the king's troop: The best of Rhodes sit there, and there's room. Mel. I thank you, sir.-When I have seen you placed, madam, I must attend the king; but, the masque done, I'll wait on you again. [Exit with the Lady into the gallery. Diag. Stand back there!-Room for my lord Melantius !-pray, bear back-this is no place for such youths and their trulls-let the doors shut again.-No!-do your heads itch? I'll scratch them for you. [Shuts the door.]-So, now thrust and hang. [Knocking.] Again! who is't now?— I cannot blame my lord Calianax for going away: 'Would he were here! he would run raging among them, and break a dozen wiser heads than his own, in the twinkling of an eye.-What's the news now? [Within.] I pray you, can you help me to the speech of the master-cook? Diag. If I open the door, I'll cook some of your calves-heads. Peace, rogues! [Knocking.] -Again! who is't? Mel. [within.] Melantius. Enter CALIANAX. Mel. I shall forget this place, thy age, my safety, And, thorough all, cut that poor sickly week, Thou hast to live, away from thee. Col. Nay, I know you can fight for your whore. Mel. Bate the king, and be he flesh and blood, He lies, that says it! Thy mother at fifteen Was black and sinful to her. Diag. Good my lord! Mel. Some god pluck threescore years from that fond man, That I may kill him and not stain mine honour. That sea of blood, that I have lost in fight, Should'st thou say more! This Rhodes, I see, is nought But a place privileged to do men wrong. Cal. Ay, you may say your pleasure. Enter AMINTOR. Amin. What vile injury Has stirr'd my worthy friend, who is as slow Amin. Good sir, forbear. Cal. There is just such another as yourself. To force you to it. I do love you both: Mel. Sister, I joy to see you, and your choice. Evad. O, my dearest brother! THE MASQUE. NIGHT rises in mists. Night. Our reign is come; for in the raging sea The sun is drown'd, and with him fell the Day. Bright Cynthia, hear my voice; I am the Night, For whom thou bear'st about thy borrow'd light. Appear; no longer thy pale visage shroud. But strike thy silver horns quite through a cloud And send a beam upon my swarthy face; By which I may discover all the place And persons, and how many longing eyes Are come to wait on our solemnities. B 2 Enter CYNTHIA. How dull and black am I! I could not find One of my clearest moons I have put on ; Night. Then let us keep 'em here; Cynth. Great queen of shadows, you are pleased Of more than may be done: We may not break Our brother's glorious beams; and wish the night Night. Then shine at full, fair queen, and by Produce a birth, to crown this happy hour, cover, Easy and sweet, who is a happy lover. Or, if thou woo't, then call thine own Endymion, Nor went I down to kiss him. Ease and wine Of what these lovers are. Rise, rise, I say, Cynthia, to thy power and thee, Joy to this great company! Come to steal this night away, Till the rites of love are ended; And the lusty bridegroom say, Welcome, light, of all befriended. Pace out, you watery powers below; Like the gallies when they row, Let your unknown measures, set That gods are come, immortal, great, To honour this great nuptial. [The Measure by the Sea-gods. SECOND SONG. Hold back thy hours, dark Night, till we have done: The day will come too soon; Young maids will curse thee if thou steal'st away, And leav'st their losses open to the day: Stay, stay, and hide The blushes of the bride. |