University of Virginia Library

Disloyall Sicophant; deaths bastard brother;

Venus speech to Morpheus

Accursed spaune, cast from a cursed Mother;
That with thy base impostures, riflest man
Of halfe his daies, of halfe that little spanne,
Nature hath lent his life; that with thy wiles,
Hugg'st him to death; betray'st him with thy smiles;
What mak'st thou here, and to vsurpe my right,
Perfideous Caitife? Venus day is night.
Goe to the frozen world; where mans desire
Is made of Ice, and melts before the fire,
Yet ne're the warmer: Goe, and visit fooles,
Or Phlegmatick old age, whose spirit cooles
As quickly as their breath: Goe; what haue we
To doe (dull Morpheus) with thy Mace, or thee
As leaden as thy Mace? th'art made for nought,
But to still Children, or to ease the thought
Of brain-sick Phranticks; or with ioyes to flatter
Poore slumbring soules; which wak'd, finde no such matter.
Goe succour those, that vent by quick retaile
Their wits, vpon deare penny-worths of Ale;
Or marrow'd Eunuchs, whose adust desire
Wants meanes to slake the fury of their false fire.
O that I were a Basiliske, that I
Might dart my venome; or else venom'd, die.
Boy, bend thy Bow; and with thy forked dart,
Drawne to the head, thrill, thrill him to the heart:
Let flie Deaths arrow; or if thou had none,
In deaths name send an arrow of thine owne;
We are both wrong'd, and in the same degree;
Shoot then; at once, reuenge thy selfe and me.