Don. No matter for properties-24 We'll imagine, madam, you have a beard. Fid. What shall I play?

Don. You must be ladies, whom the king leaves to keep her company; entertain what humour you please.

Cas. and Kath. This is our own parts indeed. Don. You will play it the more natural, and let me alone to play the Thunderer, I'll wanton Jove it -now whet your inventions and about it, immagine our scene expressed, and the New-prison, the title advanced in form.

Eug. The New-prison! why?

Don. O'tis an excellent name, where spectators throng together, as ours do methinks in the arras already; the music have their part. Dispose yourselves for your entrances, while I speak the prologue to our mixed audience of silk and crewel gentlemen 25 in the hangings.-Hem. Kath. Let it be a confident prologue howso[Music. Don. Ye are welcome to New-prison; we have

ever.

still

Our ancient keeper, and we fear he will
Speak in his old key too; but do not look for
Choice diet, for alas, we play the cook for
All you are like to feed on; let your palate
Expect at most then but a root or sallad
Picked from the prison garden. We know you

are

Judicious hangings, and well seen; nor dare
We lift you up (too bold) lest we incense
Your green and spreading wits with impudence.
As I began, let me conclude in rhyme;
Hang still, you learned critics of the time.
Now Danae and the ladies.

Eug. Was ever father to his child
So unkind? It makes me wild,
When, to beguile a tedious hour,
From the top of this high tower,

I see every other creature,
Enjoy a liberty by nature.
Can the silver running fountains,
And the cloud-aspiring mountains,
Every grove and flowery field,
But a new affliction yield?

Don. This is excellent; she has played the part before.

Cas. Waste not yourself in woeful plaint,
Sorrow will not help restraint.
Think, madam, all is but a dream,

That we are in-Now I am out-beam, cream;
Help me, Katharina, I can make no sense rhyme

to't.

Don. Cream is as good a rhyme as your mouth can wish; ha, ha, ha'!

Cas. Does not the arras laugh at me? it shakes,

methinks.

Kath. It cannot chuse, there's one behind does tickle it.

Eug. A dream! alas, 'tis no relief
For us to flatter so much grief!
Fancy wants power to delight,
Or, if we could think it might,
Such a dream so sad would make us,
That it could not chuse but wake us.
Don. My lady has helped her pretty well out
of her dream.

Kath. The sun with glittering golden rays,
May appear one of these days;
You know always, after winter,
Comes the spring and pleasant summer.
Don. Winter and summer! ha, ha, ha,

Mar. Winter and summer! by my faith that's well, there's but half a year between; there be some call themselves pocts, make their rhymes straddle so wide, a twelvemonth will hardly reconcile them, and I hope, a lady may straddle a little by poetical licence.

Cas. Madam, your father, king Acrisius.
Mar. Must I enter already?-Hum.
Eug. This is his hour to visit us.
Mar. How fares our daughter?
Cas. What voice is that?

Don. The king speaks through a trunk.

Mar. How is't, heroic birth? what dulness, cold As Saturn's, dwells on thy forehead? be bold' To give thy grief a tongue; instruct, child, My paternal nature, lest I grow wild

As the rude north-thought of thee makes my hairs

Silver, my blood is curdied with my cares.

Don. Most high and mighty nonsense! sure the king has swallowed pills, and his stomach, not able to digest them, does vomit them up again. Mar. Is thy organ dumb,

Or am I grown cheap in majesty? trivial fool, Shall I reap crabbed thistles in neglect for rich

love?

Cas. Crabbed language, I am sure.

Don. Sure my lady does not understand him? Eug. If my brow so sad appear,

My fortune's livery I wear.

Mur. Weep no more, thy eyes pave the ground with pearl.

My power is raised, my crown thy tribute, girl, Here is nothing to want.

Eug. Nothing to want, indeed? to be A prisoner speaks all misery.

Mar. Curse not thy soft stars, but take thy fair bliss

With comfort: free from loud noise and fear is

S.

12

Thy gaudy station. When I have unscrewed
Mystical oracles, which not understood,
Do perplex with involved sense-I shall then
Enlarge thy person, Danae; till when,

If aught else do clog thy thoughts with unkind
Thoughts, unload the dark burthen of thy mind.
Pronounce thy grief aloud, my amorous darling,
And I will-

Cas. Let him chuse his rhyme, I beseech you,

madam.

Mar. Uh, uh-cold phlegm obstructs my language-barling, carling.

Don. Ha, ha, 'tis time to make an end, He was almost choked with his own phrase. Mar. And you get me to play an old man again

Don. We'll have a young one for thee; twentyone and a coat, is a double game--my turn

comes next.

Eug. He's gone, and leaveth us behind,
To tell our passions to the wind.
Ha! what o'the sudden doth surprize
My active motion? On my eyes

What dark and heavy cloud doth sit,
To persuade me it is night?
It is some charm; I cannot keep
These windows open, I must sleep.

Enter JUPITER.

Cas. This was well passionated: now comes Jupiter, to take my lady napping; we'll sleep too: let the wanton have her swing, would she were a man for her sake.

Jup. Let the music of the spheres
Captivate these mortal ears;
While Jove descends into this tower,
In a golden streaming shower.
To disguise him from the eye
Of Juno, who is apt to pry
Into my pleasures, I to-day
Have bid Ganymed go play,
And thus stole from heaven to be
Welcome on earth to Danae.
And see where the princely maid,
On her easy couch is laid,
Fairer than the queen of loves,
Drawn about with milky doves.
To thee let Paphian altars smoke,
Priests thy better name invoke.
When Hymen lights his holy fires,
Thou that canst infuse desires
In the gods, from thy lip
Let Jove heavenly nectar sip,
And translate, by kissing thee,
Into thy breast his deity.
But I rob myself of treasure,
This is but the gate of pleasure:
To dwell here, it were a sin,

When Elysium is within.

Leave off then these flattering kisses,

[Bell within.

To rifle other greater blisses.

Eug. The bell--news from my father. -

Cas. Then your play is interrupted JoveMadam, I'll see.

Don. Beshrew the bell-man; and you had not waked as you did, madam, I should ha' forgot myself, and played Jupiter indeed with you; my imaginations were strong upon me, and you lay Sweetly---how now?

Cas. A present, madam, from the duke: one of the finest pieces of pageantry that e'er you saw : 'tis a cage with variety of birds in it: it moves on wheels. Your assistance, ladies, to bring it in. Eug. A cage--if from Florence, it shall to the fire,

Or whence soe'er: it cannot be intended
But as a mockery of my restraint.
I'm very sad o'the sudden: ha! 'tis so:
Break it to pieces.

Don. Twere pity, madam, to destroy so much

art.

Eug. Yet spare the workmanship, in the perusal There's something pleads for mercy :--I feel within

Some alteration, I know not what;

Let me intreat your absence for some minutes; I am in earnest, pray do, without reply.

Your eyes shall feed with plenteous satisfaction On this gay object, when I call you.

So

Ladies. We obey you.

[Exeunt.

Eug. Yet can't I say I am alone, that have
many partners in captivity.
Sweet fellow-prisoners, 'twas a cruel art,
The first invention to restrain the wing,
To keep the inhabitants o'the air close captive,
That were created to sky freedom: surely
The merciless creditor took his first light,
And prisons their first models, from such bird-
loops.

I know yon nightingale is not long lived.
See how that turtle mourns, wanting her mate!
And doth the duke, my father, think I can
Take comfort either in restraint, or in
The sight of these that every moment do
Prescut it to me? were these tendered me?
They shall no more be prisoners to please me,
Nor shail the woods be robbed of so much music.
[She opens the Cage, and ROLLIARDO
comes from the Pillar.

Rol. I take you at your word, fair princess,

I am the truest prisoner: tremble not,

Fear 'flies the noble mind, for injury dares not

And none shall perish: you shall save him too That would for your sake lose himself for ever. Eug. For my sake? what relation has my birth, Or any passion I call mine, to you?

Rol. Nor doom me unto scorn; I am a gentle

man;

And when my inimitable resolution

In those attempts whose very sound breeds earthquakes

In other hearers, shall your knowledge fill
With wonder and amaze, you will at least
Think I fall too low, if I love beneath you.
Eug. Ha! this is a strange accident.
Rol. Was it less

Than death, dear princess, to adventure hither?
Eug. It will be death, however.

Rol You're deceived, lady.

Eug. How I am perplexed!

Rol. It had been death;

Your sight gives me a lease of longer life,

My head stands fast.

Fair opportunity waits upon your pleasure;
You want but the first knowledge of your joy.
Your blood is ripe; come, I am confident
Your will is but controul'd by upstart fears,
Like advanced beggars, that will check their
princes.

My safest way is yours now to conceal me,
It may be thought I have enjoyed you else;
Ill censure soon takes fire: nay, perhaps,
To be revenged of your stern cruelty,
I'll swear myself I have possessed you freely.
Play your game wisely then, your honour lies
Full at my mercy; come, 'tis in your love
To lead me to a secret couch.

Eug. Bold villain,

off,

More for thy virtues, than his own creation.
I was born with guilt enough to cancel
My first purity; but so chaste a love
As thine, will so refiue my second being,
When holy marriage frames us in one piece,
Angels will envy me.

Eug. Ha, the prince of Florence?

Rol. I ha' made no travail for so rich a blessing;

Turn me to pilgrimage, divinest beauty,
And when I ha' put a girdle 'bout the world, 25
This purchase will reward me.

Eug. Purchase!---I am not bought and sold, [ hope?

Rol. Give it what name you will, you're mine,

Eugenia.

Eug. Your's, prince? I do not know by what title you pretend this claim; I never yet remem ber that I saw you;

And, if I had any interest in myself,
Produce your witness when I gave it you.
I have possession yet; ere I deliver it,
You must shew stronger evidence.
Rol. Are we not contracted?
Eug. Contracted! when? where?
prince, I picy your abuse.

Rol. 'Tis firm between our fathers.
Eug. Mine cannot give away my heart.
Rol. Cannot?

-Good

Eug. Shall not, prince: 'tis not your travail and your trouble,

With this conceit to boot, were it your own
Invention, with all your birds about you,
That can take me.

Rol. Is it my person, madam,

You hold unworthy? For my birth and fortune Cannot deserve your scorn.

Το

Eug. It takes not from

The greatness of your state, or blood, my lord,
say I cannot love you, since affection
Flows uncompelled, and rests in the clear object;
Nor do I rob your person of just value,
If to me other seem as fair and comely.
Form may apparel, and become what we
Affect, not cause true love: you have enough
To promise you a happier choice; attempt
A nobler fate, and leave me to myself,
And humble destiny: for know, Florentine,

I have but one faith, one love, and though my father

Lock up my person, 'tis beyond his will
To make me false to him I gave my faith to;
And you're not noble now if you proceed.
Be then what you were born, and do not tempt
A woman to commit a sacrilege;

For when I give my heart to any other
Than my Philenzo, I commit that sin.

Rol. If you'll not pardon, I'll deliver up Philenzo to be punished for this trial.---See, lady. Eug. My dear banished Philenzo!

Rol. O let not such a glorious building stoop; It is my duty.

Eug. I will make it mine.

Rol. I have a double duty, for I owe Your constancy as much respect and reverence, As your most princely person.

Eug. What, for our safety?

Rol. Oh with what willingness could I be lost In this distracted wilderness of joy! To-morrow, madam, I go to my arraignment. Eug. How?

Rol. Spend no fear upon't,

Your story shall be pleasing :---I ha' much
To tell you-for your ladies-

Eug. They are mine, what should our innocence
Fear in their knowledge? I desire to hear
The circumstance of this wonder.

Rol. It attends.

SCENE I.

Enter DONDOLO, MORELLO, and GRUTTI. Dond. We are sorry we gave thee distaste; come, let's be friends; you did apprehend too nicely.

Morel. Nicely? it might ha' been your own case. Grut. Come, you were unkind to rub us before the Duke so.

Morel. Be wise hereafter, and make the fool your friend; 'tis many an honest man's case at court. It is safer to displease the Duke than his jester every sentence the one speaks, flatterers make an oracle; but let the impudent fool bark never so absurdly, other men ha' the wit to make a jest on't; 'tis policy in state to maintain a fool at court, to teach great men discretion.

Dond. and Grut. Great men! we are none. Morel. No, but you may be, by the length of your wit, and shortness of your memory; for if you have but wit enough to do mischief, and oblivion enough to forget good turns, you may come to great places in time; keep a fool o' your own, and then you are made

Dond. Made! what?

Morel. Cuckolds, if my lady take a liking to the innocent, 27 O your fool is an excellent fellow upon all occasions,

SONG.

Among all sorts of people,

The matter if we look well to,

[Exeunt.

The fool is the best; he from the rest
Will carry away the bell too.

All places he is free of,

And fools it without blushing. At masks and plays, is not the bays Thrust out, to let the plush in? Your fool is fine, he's merry,

And of all men doth fear least; At every word he jests with my lord, And tickles my lady in earnest : The fool doth pass the guard now,

He'll kiss his hand and leg it; When wise men prate, and forfeit their state, Who but the fine fool will beg it? He without fear can walk in

The streets that are so stony; Your gallant sneaks, your merchant breaks, He's a fool that does owe no money.

Enter ROLLIARDO.

Rol. The Duke, where is the Duke? Morel. He's forthcoming; there's no more money i'the exchequer.

Rol. I come to give up my accounts, and reckon with him; somebody tell him so.

Morel. And you do not reckon well with him, he'll be even with you; I'll do your message.

Rol. Do, and say I sent a fool o' my errand, pr'ythee. Cry mercy, such an office would ha become either of you, gentlemen.

Dond. His tongue moves circular in abuses.
Grut. The Duke.

Enter DUKE, FULVIO, PERENOTTO, &c. Duke. How now, what day is't? Rol. 'Tis holiday. Duke. How?

28

Rol. Therefore we are preparing a morris to make your grace merry: they have chosen me for the hobby-horse, 23 and, if I do not deceive their expectation, they will laugh at me extremely before I die.

Duke. Do you come like one prepared for death?

Rol. Not so well, I hope, as I may be hereafter, unless you will be unjust, and have a desire to be clapt into the chronicles, with some of your predecessors, for cutting off heads, when you do not like their complexion; 'tis but laying one block upon another, and I am quickly sent of a headless errand.

Duke. Unjust! do you remember what sums you owe for? do not jest away your life. Rol. I crave no longer day for't, and I prove not myself free from my engagements. Duke. How?

Rol. For although I had not the art to go invisible, as these wise courtiers, nor could counterfeit another sex so becomingly as t'other gaudy signior, to introduce me to the ladies; yet, with your princely licence, I may say, 'tis done. Duke. Done! what is done? Peren. He's mad, sir.

Rol. I come not to petition for a mercy,
But to cry up my merit, for a deed
Shall drown all story; and posterity,
When it shall find in her large chronicle
My glorious undertaking, shall admire it
More than a Sybil's leaf, and lose itself
In wonder of the action: poets shall
With this make proud their muses, and apparel it
In ravishing numbers, which the soft-haired vir-
gins,

Forgetting all their legends, and love-tales
Of Venus, Cupid, and the 'scapes of Jove,
Shall make their only song, and in full quire
Chant it at Hymen's feast.

Duke. What means this boasting?
Fulv. Rolliardo.

Rol. You think I am a lost man; and
things,

your gay

That echo to your passions, and see through
Your eyes all that's presented, do already
Tickle their very souls, with expectation
To see me beg most miserably for life.
But you are all deceived- -here I pronounce
The great work done that cancels all my debts;
I have had access unto the fair Eugenia,
Your princely daughter, staid, discoursed with her;
More, she has entertained me for her servant.
Peren. Sir, do you believe him?

Duke. Thou hast profaned a name will strike thee dead.

Rol. It cannot be; for if you mean your
daughter,

'Tis that is my preserver: blest Eugenia,
To whose memory my heart does dedicate
Itself an altar, in whose very mention
My lips are hallowed, and the place a temple
Whence the divine sound came; it is a voice,
Which should our holy churchmen use, it might
Without addition of more exorcisin
Disenchant houses, tie up nightly spirits
Which fright the solitary groves. Eugenia
When I have named, I needs must love my breath
The better after it.

Duke. Thou hast undone
Thyself i'the repetition; and in this,
Wherein thou cunningly wouldst beg our pity,
Thou hast destroyed it, and not left a thought
To plead against our anger; where, before,
Thy life should have been gently invited forth,
Now with a horrid circumstance death shall
Make thy soul tremble, and, forsaking all
Thy noble parts, it shall retire into
Some angle of thy body, and be afraid
To inform thy eyes, lest they let in a horror
They would not look on.

Rol. I am still the same, and let me be so bold
To plead your royal word; 'twas my security;
Nor shall you take mine to induce your faith:
To what is done, I have more pregnant evidence;
Your higness knows that character.

[Presents a Paper.

Duke. Ha, 'tis not sc; I'll not believe my eyes. Come hither, Fulvio; Perenotto, read,

But not too loud; does she not write to me-
It is unjust you let Rolliardo die,
Unless Eugenia bear him company?
Give me the paper.

?

Peren. 'Tis counterfeit, my lord; cut off my head If this be not a jig of his invention.

Duke. My soul is in a sweat. I feel my blood Heave in my veins-he looks as he had seen her. More my prophetic thoughts do whisper to me— Fulv. Believe it not, sir. Duke. I wo'not---P'erenotto

[Whispers. PER. goes out. Dond. I know not what to think. Grut. The Duke's perplext; observe. Rol. Will either of you speak for me, gentlemen, if the justice of my cause should fail me? I'll pay you for't. I know courtiers, that live upon countenance, must sell their tongues; what is the price of yours, pray?

Grut. Humble yourself, you coxcomb.

Duke. Away, and let not him stir, I charge you. This does intrench too much upon her person. Have my endeavours to preserve Eugenia, Of whom I thought so many men unworthy,