University of Virginia Library

ACT III. HERCULES.

A MASQUE.

A Symphony with Trumpets, Kettle-drums, Hautboys, &c.
Enter Hercules, and a Chorus of Lydian Men and Women, who line both Sides of the Stage; Omphale among them.
Chorus of Lydians.
VVelcome to the Lydian Court,
Great Alcides, still victorious,
Still more glorious,
Earth's Defence, and Heav'n's Support!
Welcome to the Lydian Court.

Two Lydians.
“By thee the worst of Monsters fell:

“All the Lines mark'd thus are left cut in the Singing, lest the Entertainment should be too long.

“By thee was curb'd the Pow'r of Hell:
“By thee on Earth Astræa rules again:
“The Toil and Glory thine, the thankful World's the Gain.

Herc.
to the Crowd.
Hence Slaves, still crowding to caress,
Not Manly Virtue, but Success.
“Why must I be star'd at by you,
“As if I were a Monster too?
Why gazes on me ev'ry Eye,
When a more conqu'ring Object's by?
Why sing my Triumph, when a single She,
A single Look has vanquish'd me?

[Omphale offers to go, seeing him bow to her.
Herc.
Bright Omphale, in Pity stay,
Oh let me gaze, and gaze Eternity away.

Omph.
“Why should I be gaz'd on by you,
“As if I were a Monster too?

Herc.
“Why should I be thus shun'd by you,
“As if I were a Monster too?

Herc.
We Soldiers are blunt, and awkardly wooe;
But tho' we can't talk, you'll find we can do.
A thousand hard Labours I've conquer'd with Ease;
But think it much harder one Woman to please.
Yet here I stand ready, to try, when you will,
If one Woman's Wishes a Man may fulfil.

Omph.
All you Men, when Love is new,
Promise much, but little do.
You in Search of Blessings run,
Which alas you quickly shun.
Shou'd we cheap our Favours make,
You'd but conquer to forsake.
Lest our Slaves our Tyrants grow,
Little Freedom we bestow.

Herc.
To try me and exert your Sway,
Speak, and, by Jove, I will obey!

Omph.
Then learn to spin; 'tis all I ask.

Herc.
For Hercules a very pretty Task!
'Tis odd, 'tis odd, 'tis wondrous odd!
Malicious Love, resistless God!
But I have sworn, and then I burn,
And now my Club must Distaff turn.
I know by this I'm turning Fool,
And so we're all, while Women rule.

Enter Lydia and Nesica, two of Omphale's Women, with two spinning Wheels, brought in by two Men, who take them out to dance, and in the Dance they turn the Wheels with diverse Postures, and Motions.
Omph.
“Come grieve no more for turning Fool
“Than did your Sire for turning Bull.
“Love grows fiercer by Denials,
“Love, like Gold's refin'd by Tryals.
“Doubts and Fears new Heat inspire.
“Melting Tears enrage the Fire;
“Sighs, like Wind, still blow it higher.
“Cruelty awake must keep
“Love, which Kindness lulls asleep.
“Off with your rough Attire of War;
“You must for softer Arts prepare.

[Exit Omphale.
Some of Omphale's Attendants, strip Hercules of his Lyon's Skin, and put him on a white Hood, a Night-Rail, and a white Bib-Apron; then they cap his Club with Flax, and set a Spinning-Wheel before him—he makes sad Faces all the while.
Herc.
Well then if I must learn to spin,
And be a Coxcomb, let's begin.
Nesica shewing him how to spin.
Thus—you must whirl about your Wheel;
Thus—wet, and twist, and fill the Reel.

Lyd.
“Come, spin out your Clue.

Herc.
“S'Death, all is entangl'd! plague on't; it won't do.
Lydia and Nesica beat him with their Distaffs.
“Come, spin out your Clue.

Herc.
“Hold Women, hold; I never knew
“A Man could be a Match for two.
Enter Dejanira with Children and other Attendants.
Oh, you treacherous Knave!
Oh you Villain, you Slave!
What, do I surprise you,
Your Wenches and you? e'Faith, I'll disguise you.
Let me reach 'em!
I'll teach 'em
To make themselves common,
And wrong me, not dreading the Rage of a Woman.
What, take you their Part?
I cou'd tear thy false Heart.
“At home you still grumble,
“And tho' mighty abroad, there your Courage is humble;
“Still dull with your Spouse, and still gay with another,
“You make ev'ry Whore but your poor Wife a Mother.
Oh you treacherous Knave!
Oh you Villain! you Slave!

Two of Hercules's Children sing in a crying Tone.
Heh! hoh! pray, Sir, pray now come!
With my Mother pray go home.

A Boy.
All Night she makes her Moan,
She cannot lie alone.
As in her Arms I lay,
The Night you went away,
She sigh'd, and, with a Tear,
Cry'd, oh wou'd it were my Dear.

A Girl.
She o'er her Pillow weeps,
And hugs it as she sleeps;
Then, waking, with a Tear,
Crys, Wou'd it were my Dear,

Both together.
Heh! hoh! pray Sir, pray now come;
With my Mother pray go home.

Herc.
Behold the Blessings of a married Life,
In bawling Children, and a scolding Wife!
“Poor Husbands the Noise of their Vexons must fly;
“If Juno but scold, ev'n Jove leaves the Sky.
Like Furies they bellow, and rave, if we stray,
Yet still by their Clamours they drive us away:
“With Dragons and Devils I'd venture a Strife,
“But I dare not encounter that greater, my Wife.
[Hercules offers to go.
Dejanira holding him.
Stay cruel Man; and e're you fly me,
E're! my latest Farewel take,
Oh do not one poor Wish deny me!
Wear this more proper Garment for my sake!

[She shews him a Vest and Shirt.
Herc.
Well, since you're milder, I comply.

[Exit to put on the Shirt and Vest.
One of Hercules's Children dances for joy that her Father is putting on the Shirt, which Dejanira has been told will restore her his Love. Then Herc. re-enters.
Herc.
Your Vest is on; Thanks, Wife! and so god b'w'ye
At Night Arrears I'll satisfie.
[They all go out except Hercules.
Hercules feeling a sudden Heat.
'Tis warm,—'tis hot,—'tis wondrous hot—
I'm scorch'd—I fry—I burn—Oh strip me—Give me Air—
The stubborn Vest obeys me not:
I cannot bear it—
Let me tear it,
Tho' with my Flesh, my Heart and Soul I tear.
In vain I strive; the Bosom-Traytor cleaves the more,
And spreads a more than Hell thro' every sucking Pore.
And now the flaming Poison gains
My Nerves, my Veins,
My Lungs, my Heart, my Brains—
Help! Water! Rivers! pour a Flood!
A Deluge scarce will quench the Fire that drinks my Blood.
He sinks on the Ground.
Ah me! Ah, poor Alcides! wretched Man!
I sink, I faint, I die with Pain.
He starts up suddenly.
Now with ten thousand Stings I suffer Life again.
“Run, haste, bid Neptune bring the Sea
“To save the World and me.
Wake sleeping Jove; 'Tis I that call.
Collect the Clouds, and squeeze 'em into Show'rs;
Or quench the Flame which thy Son's Heart devours
With thy less dreadful Thunder's fall.
“Rouze, idle Tenants of the Sky!
“Must I implore, and you deny?
Rouze; or on my own Fires I'll fly;
I'll dash to Air your Beings with a Stroke,
And, firing Ocean, Earth and Sky,
Entomb the World in everlasting Smoke.
See! Trembling Heav'n assists for fear.
Behold a Fire! I'll cool me there—
[A Poetical Heaven appears in Perspective, and a Fire under it.
Flames quench my Flames—Hark! From the Heavenly Hall
I hear the beck'ning Thund'rer call—
I hear the Musick of the Skies—
[He flings himself into a Fire.
I come, I mount, my Spirit flies,
While my maternal Earthy Being dies.—

[He dies.
The Attendants who sometimes appear'd during Hercules's Complaint, and were frighted away by his Rant, return towards the End of his Rapture; and when 'tis over, begin the following grand Chorus.
Grand Chor.
Rejoice; Alcides lives on high:
Thus Heroes claim their Kindred Sky.
Thro' Fiery Tryals thus the Soul must fly.
He ever lives who does not fear to dye.