Near a lone oak forlorn and thunder-cleft,
Where discontented, I abjured the Gods,
And bann'd the cruel creditor that seiz'd
My Mullees,1 sole subsistence of my life.

He promised me full twelve years' absolute reign
To banquet all my senses, but he lied,

For vipers' flesh is now my only food,

My drink of springs that stream from sulph'rous mines;
Beside with midnight cramps and scalding sweats

I am almost inured for hell's worst tortures.

I hear the wood-nymphs cry; by that I know
My charm has took-2

but day clears up,

And heav'nly light wounds my infectious eyes.

1st W. Now, sullen Dame, dost thou approve our works?
Rag. 'Twas a brave wreck: O, you have well perform❜d.
2nd W. Myrza and I bestrid a cloud, and soar'd

To lash the storm, which we pursued to th' City,
Where in my flight I snatch'd the golden globe,
That high on Saturn's pillar blaz'd i' th' air.

3rd W. I fired the turret of Minerva's fane.
4th W. I staid i' th' cell to set the spell a work.
The lamps burnt ghastly blue, the furnace shook ;
The Salamander felt the heat redoubled,

And frisk'd about, so well I plied the fire.

Rag. Now as I hate bright day, and love moonshine, You shall be all my sisters in the art:

I will instruct thee in each mystery;

Make ye all Ragusas.

All. Ho! Ho! Ho!

Rag. Around me, and I'll deal to each her dole. There's an elf-lock, tooth of hermaphrodite,

A brace of mandrakes digg'd in fairy ground,

A lamprey's chain, snake's eggs, dead sparks of thunder
Quench'd in its passage thro' the cold mid air,
A mermaid's fin, a cockatrice's comb

Wrapt i' the dried caul of a brat still-born.
Burn 'em.-

In whispers take the rest, which named aloud
Would fright the day, and raise another storm.
All. Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho!

1 Her cows.
[Ed. of 1678.]

[Act iii.3]

2["The Tempter has prevailed, 'T was a sure philtre."]

Soziman, a wicked Statesman, employs Ragusa for a charm.

Rag. my drudges I'll employ

To frame with their best arts a bracelet for thee,
Which, while thou wear'st it lock'd on thy left arm,
Treason shall ne'er annoy thee, sword and poison
In vain attempt; Nature alone have power
Thy substance to dissolve, nor she herself
Till many a winter-shock hath broke thy temper.
Soz. Medea for her Jason less performed!
My greatening soul aspires to range like thee,
In unknown worlds, to search the reign of Night.
Admitted to thy dreadful mysteries,

I should be more than mortal.

Rag. Near my cell,

'Mongst circling rocks (in form a theatre) Lies a snug vale—

Soz. With horror I have view'd it;

"Tis blasted all and bare as th' ocean beach,
And seems a round for elves to revel in.

Rag. With my attendants there each waning moon
My dreadful Court I hold, and sit in state:-
And when the dire transactions are dispatch'd,
Our zany Spirits ascend to make us mirth
With gambols, dances, masks and revelling songs,
Till our mad din strike terror through the waste,
Spreads far and wide to th' cliffs that bank the main,
And scarce is lost in the wide ocean's roar.
Here seated by me thou shalt view the sports,
While demons kiss thy foot, and swear thee homage.

[Act iv., p. 33.] Ragusa, with the other Witches, having finished the bracelet.

Rag. Proceed we then to finish our black projects.— View here, till from your green distilling eyes

The poisonous glances center on this bracelet,

A fatal gift for our projecting son ;

Seven hours odd minutes has it steept i' th' gall
Of a vile Moor swine-rooted from his grave.
Now to your bloated lips apply it round,
And with th' infectious dew of your black breaths
Compleat its baleful force.

[Act v, p. 45.]

A

SICILY AND NAPLES OR] THE FATAL UNION. TRAGEDY [PUBLISHED 1640]. AUTHOR UNKNOWN. [BY SAMUEL HARDING (FLOURISHED 1641)]

But the precious shining rind,

The inmost rottenness remains behind.
Kings, on earth though Gods they be,
Yet in death are vile as we.

He, a thousand Kings before,
Now is vassal unto more.
Vermin now insulting lie,

hand

And dig for diamonds in each eye;
Whilst the sceptre-bearing
Cannot their inroads withstand.
Here doth one in odours wade,
By the regal unction made;
While another dares to gnaw

On that tongue, his people's law.

Fools, ah! fools are we that [who] so contrive,
And do strive,

In each gaudy ornament,

Who shall his corpse in the best dish present.

[Act iii., Sc. 2.1]

BLURT, MASTER CONSTABLE.

A COMEDY [PUB

LISHED 1602]. BY T. MIDDLETON

Lover kept awake by Love.

Ah! how can I sleep? he, who truly loves,
Burns out the day in idle fantasies;

And when the lamb bleating doth bid good night
Unto the closing day, then tears begin

To keep quick time unto the owl, whose voice
Shrieks like the bellman in the lover's ears:

Love's eye the jewel of sleep oh! seldom wears.
The early lark is waken'd from her bed,

Being only by Love's plaints disquieted;

1 [Ed. of 1640.]

["Sleep" is inserted by Lamb, from the previous speaker's words.]

And singing in the morning's ear she weeps,
Being deep in love, at Lovers' broken sleeps.
But say a golden slumber chance to tie
With silken strings the cover of Love's eye;
Then dreams, magician-like, mocking present
Pleasures, whose fading leaves more discontent.
[Act iii., Sc. 1.1]

Violetta comes to seek her Husband at the house of a Curtizan.
VIOLETTA.-IMPERIA, the Curtizan.

Vio. By your leave, sweet Beauty, pardon my excuse, which2 sought entrance into this house: good Sweetness, have you not a Property here, improper to your house; my husband? Imp. Hah! your husband here ?

Vio. Nay, be as you seem to be, White Dove, without gall. Do not mock me, fairest Venetian. Come, I know he is here. I do not blame him, for your beauty gilds over his error. "Troth, I am right glad that you, my Countrywoman, have received the pawn of his affections. You cannot be hardhearted, loving him; nor hate me, for I love him too. Since we both love him, let us not leave him, till we have called home the ill husbandry of a sweet Straggler. Prithee, good wench, use him well.

Imp. So, so, so—

Vio. If he deserve not to be used well (as I'd be loth he should deserve it), I'll engage myself, dear Beauty, to thine honest heart: give me leave to love him, and I'll give him a kind of leave to love thee. I know he hears me. I prithee try my eyes, if they know him; that have almost drowned themselves in their own salt-water, because they cannot see him. In truth, I'll not chide him. If I speak words rougher than soft kisses, my penance shall be to see him kiss thee, yet to hold my peace.*

Good Partner, lodge me in thy private bed;

Where, in supposed folly, he may end

Determin'd Sin. Thou smilest. I know thou wilt.

What looseness may term dotage,—truly read,

Is Love ripe-gather'd, not soon withered.

Imp. Good truth, pretty Wedlock, thou makest my little eyes smart with washing themselves in brine. I mar such a sweet face! --and wipe off that dainty red! and make Cupid toll the bell for your love-sick heart!-no, no, no-if he were Jove's own ingle Ganymede-fie, fie, fie-I'll none. Your Chamber-fellow is within. Thou shalt enjoy 5 him.

Vio. Star of Venetian Beauty, thanks! 6

1 [Works, ed. Bullen, vol. i.]

[Act v., Sc. 2.]

2["Under the mask of Camillo's names."] [Three lines.]

[Six lines omitted.]

5

[Omission of some lines, "him" inserted.]

6 [For other extracts from Middleton, see note on page 144.]

HOFFMAN'S TRAGEDY; OR REVENGE FOR A FATHER [PUBLISHED 1631: ACTED 1602].1 AUTHOR UNKNOWN. [BY HENRY CHETTLE]

The Sons of the Duke of Saxony run away with Lucibel, the Duke of Austria's Daughter.-The two Dukes, in separate pursuit of their children, meet at the Cell of a Hermit: in which Hermit, Saxony recognizes a banished Brother; at which surprised, all three are reconciled.

Aust. That should be Saxon's tongue.
Sax. Indeed I am the Duke of Saxony.
Aust. Then thou art father to lascivious sons,
That have made Austria childless.

Sax. Oh subtle Duke,

Thy craft appears in framing the excuse.
Thou dost accuse my young sons' innocence.
I sent them to get knowledge, learn the tongues,
Not to be metamorphosed with the view
Of flattering Beauty-peradventure painted.
Aust. No, I defy thee, John of Saxony.
My Lucibel for beauty needs no art;
Nor, do I think, the beauties of her mind
Ever inclin❜d to this ignoble course,

But by the charms and forcings of thy sons.

Sax. O would thou would'st maintain thy words, proud Duke! Her. I hope, great princes, neither of you dare Commit a deed so sacrilegious.

This holy Cell

2

Is dedicated to the Prince of Peace.

The foot of man never profan'd this floor;

Nor doth wrath here with his consuming voice
Affright these buildings. Charity with Prayer,
Humility with Abstinence combined,

Are here the guardians of a grieved mind.
Aust. Father, we obey thy holy voice.
Duke John of Saxony, receive my faith;
Till our ears hear the true course, which thy sons
Have taken with my fond and misled child,
I proclaim truce. Why dost thou sullen stand?

If thou mean peace, give me thy princely hand.

Sax. Thus do I plight thee truth, and promise peace.
Aust. Nay, but thy eyes agree not with thy heart.

["The Tragedy of Hoffman or A Revenge," etc. Not divided into Acts. See ed. of 1631.] 2["Prince" should be "Son ".]