Page images
PDF
EPUB

THE BRAZEN AGE. AN HISTORICAL PLAY [PUBLISHED 1613]. BY THOMAS HEYWOOD

Venus courts Adonis.

Ven. Why doth Adonis fly the Queen of Love,
And shun this ivory girdle of my arms?

To be thus scarf'd the dreadful God of War
Would give me conquer'd kingdoms. For a kiss,
But half like this, I could command the Sun
Rise 'fore his hour, to bed before his time;
And, being love-sick, change his golden beams,
And make his face pale as his sister Moon.
Look on me, Adon, with a stedfast eye,
That in these crystal glasses I may see

My beauty that charms Gods, makes Men amaz'd
And stown'd with wonder. Doth this roseate pillow
Offend my Love?

With my white fingers will I clap thy cheek;
Whisper a thousand pleasures in thy ear.

Adon. Madam, you are not modest. I affect
The unseen beauty that adorns the mind:
This looseness makes you foul in Adon's eye.
If you will tempt me, let me in your face
Read blushfulness and fear; a modest fear

Would make your cheek seem much more beautiful.1
Ven.
-wert thou made of stone,

I have heat to melt thee; I am Queen of Love.
There is no practice art of dalliance

Of which I am not mistress, and can use.

I have kisses than [that] can murder unkind words,
And strangle hatred that the gall sends forth;
Touches to raise thee, were thy spirits half dead;
Words than [that] can pour affection down thy ears.
Love me! thou canst not chuse; thou shalt not chuse.2
Adon. Madam, you woo not well.

Men covet not

These proffer'd pleasures, but love sweets denied.
These prostituted pleasures surfeit still;

Where's fear, or doubt, men sue with best good will.
Ven. Thou canst instruct the Queen of Love in love.
Thou shalt not, Adon, take me by the hand;
Yet, if thou needs will force me, take my palm.
I'll frown on him: alas! my brow's so smooth,
It will not bear a wrinkle.-Hie thee hence
Unto the chace, and leave me; but not yet:

1[Four lines and a half omitted.]
VOL. IV.-28

2[Four lines.]

I'll sleep this night upon Endymion's bank,
On which the Swain was courted by the Moon.
Dare not to come; thou art in our disgrace:
Yet, if thou come, I can afford thee place!

[Act ii., Sc. 2, p. 186.1]

Phoebus jeers Vulcan.

Vul. Good morrow, Phoebus; what's the news abroad?—
For thou seest all things in the world are done,
Men act by day-light, or the sight of sun.

Phob. Sometime I cast my eye upon the sea,
To see the tumbling seal or porpoise play.
There see I merchants trading, and their sails
Big-bellied with the wind; sea fights sometimes
Rise with their smoke-thick clouds to dark my beams;
Sometimes I fix my face upon the earth,

With my warm fervour to give metals, trees,
Herbs, plants and flower, life. Here in gardens walk
Loose Ladies with their Lovers arm in arm.

Yonder the laboring Plowman drives his team.
Further I may behold main battles picht;
And whom I favour most (by the wind's help)
I can assist with my transparent rays.

Here spy I cattle feeding; forests there

Stored with wild beasts; here shepherds with their lasses,
Piping beneath the trees while their flocks graze.

In cities I see trading, walking, bargaining,

Buying and selling, goodness, badness, all things—
And shine alike on all.

Vul. Thrice happy Phoebus,

That, whilst poor Vulcan is confin'd to Lemnos,
Hast every day these pleasures. What news else?
Phob. No Emperor walks forth, but I see his state;
Nor sports, but I his pastimes can behold.

I see all coronations, funerals,

Marts, fairs, assemblies, pageants, sights and shows.
No hunting, but I better see the chace

Than they that rouse the game. What see I not?
There's not a window, but my beams break in ;
No chink or cranny, but my rays pierce through;
And there I see, O Vulcan, wond'rous things:
Things that thyself, nor any God besides,
Would give belief to.

And, shall I tell thee, Vulcan, t'other day
What I beheld?—I saw the great God Mars-
1[Pearson's ed., 1874, vol. iii.]

Vul. God Mars

Phob. As I was peeping through a cranny, abed

Vul. Abed with whom?-some pretty Wench, I warrant.
Phoeb. She was a pretty Wench.

Vul. Tell me, good Phoebus,

That, when I meet him, I may flout God Mars;

Tell me, but tell me truly, on thy life.

Phob. Not to dissemble, Vulcan, 'twas thy wife!

[Act ii., Sc. 2, p. 232.]

The Peers of Greece go in quest of Hercules, and find him in woman's weeds, spinning with Omphale.

Jason. Our business was to Theban Hercules.

"Twas told us, he remain'd with Omphale,

The Theban Queen.

Telamon. Speak, which is Omphale? or which Alcides ?
Pollux. Lady, our purpose was to Hercules;

Shew us the man.

Omph. Behold him here.

Atreus. Where?

Omph. There, at his task.

Jas. Alas, this Hercules!

This is some base effeminate Groom, not he
That with his puissance frighted all the earth.
Her. Hath Jason, Nestor, Castor, Telamon,
Atreus, Pollux, all forgot their friend?
We are the man.

Jas. Woman, we know thee not:
We came to seek the Jove-born Hercules,
That in his cradle strangled Juno's snakes,
And triumph'd in the brave Olympic games.
He that the Cleonean lion slew,

Th' Erimanthian bear, the bull of Marathon,
The Lernean hydra, and the winged hart.1
Tel. We would see the Theban

That Cacus slew, Busiris sacrificed,
And to his horses hurl'd stern Diomed
To be devour'd.

Pol. That freed Hesione

From the sea whale, and after ransack'd Troy,

And with his own hand slew Laomedon.

Nes. He by whom Dercilus and Albion fell;

He that calia and Betricia won.

Atr. That monstrous Geryon with his three heads vanquisht, [Eleven lines omitted.]

With Linus, Lichas that usurpt in Thebes,
And captived there his beauteous Megara.1

Pol. That Hercules by whom the Centaurs fell,
Great Achelous, the Stymphalides,

And the Cremona giants: where is he?

Tel. That trait'rous Nessus with a shaft transfixt,
Strangled Antheus, purged Augeus' stalls,
Won the bright apples of th' Hesperides.

Jas. He that the Amazonian baldrick won;
That Achelous with his club subdued,
And won from him the Pride of Caledon,
Fair Deianeira, that now mourns in Thebes
For absence of the noble Hercules !

Atr. To him we came; but, since he lives not here,
Come, Lords; we will return these presents back
Unto the constant Lady, whence they came.

Her. Stay, Lords

Jas. 'Mongst women ?—

Her. For that Theban's sake,

Whom you profess to love, and came to seek,
Abide awhile; and by my love to Greece,
I'll bring before you that lost Hercules,
For whom you came to enquire.

Tel. It works, it works

Her. How have I lost myself!

Did we all this? Where is that spirit become,
That was in us? no marvel, Hercules,

That thou be'st strange to them, that thus disguised
Art to thyself unknown !—hence with this distaff,
And base effeminate chares; hence, womanish tires;
And let me once more be myself again.

Your pardon, Omphale!

[p. 244.]

I cannot take leave of this Drama without noticing a touch of the truest pathos, which the writer has put into the mouth of Meleager, as he is wasting away by the operation of the fatal brand, administered to him by his wretched Mother.

My flame encreaseth still-Oh Father Eneus;

And you, Althea, whom I would call Mother,

But that my genius prompts me thou'rt unkind:

And yet farewell!

[p. 201.2]

What is the boasted "Forgive me, but forgive me!" of the dying wife of Shore in Rowe, compared with these three little words?

[The next six lines not given by Pearson.]

2[For other extracts from Heywood see note to page 100.]

THE BATTLE OF ALCAZAR. A TRAGEDY [PUBLISHED IN 1594. BY GEORGE PEELE]

Muly Mahamet, driven from his home into a desart, robs the Lioness to feed his fainting Wife Calipolis.

Muly. Hold thee, Calipolis; feed, and faint no more. This flesh I forced from a Lioness;

Meat of a Princess, for a Princess' meet.

Learn by her noble stomach to esteem
Penury plenty in extremest dearth;
Who, when she saw her foragement bereft,
Pined not in melancholy or childish fear;
But, as brave minds are strongest in extremes,

So she, redoubling her former force,

Ranged through the woods, and rent the breeding vaults
Of proudest savages, to save herself.
Feed then, and faint not, fair Calipolis;
For, rather than fierce famine shall prevail
To gnaw thy entrails with her thorny teeth,
The conquering Lioness shall attend on thee,
And lay huge heaps of slaughter'd carcases
As bulwarks in her way to keep her back.
I will provide thee of a princely Ospray,
That, as she flieth over fish in pools,
The fish shall turn their glistering bellies up,
And thou shalt take the liberal choice of all.
Jove's stately Bird with wide-commanding wings
Shall hover still about thy princely head,
And beat down fowls by shoals into thy lap.
Feed then, and faint not, fair Calipolis.

[Act ii., Sc. 3.1]

This address, for its barbaric splendor of conception, extravagant vein of promise, not to mention some idiomatic peculiarities, and the very structure of the verse, savours strongly of Marlowe; but the real author, I believe, is unknown.

THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS OF CHRISTENDOM. BY
JOHN KIRK. ACTED 1638

Calib, the Witch, in the opening Scene, in a Storm.

Calib. Ha! louder a little; so, that burst was well. Again; ha, ha! house, house your heads, ye fear

-struck mortal fools, when Calib's concert [consort] plays

1 [Peele's Works, ed. Bullen, vol. i. For other extracts from Peele see note on p. 13.]

« PreviousContinue »