 | The Golden Age. Or The liues of Jupiter and Saturne, with the defining of the Heathen Gods |  |
Actus I.
Scæna 1.
Enter old Homer.The Gods of Greece, whose deities I rais'd
Out of the earth, gaue them diuinity,
The attributes of Sacrifice and Prayer
Haue giuē old Homer leaue to view the world
And make his owne presentment. I am he
That by my pen gaue heauen to Iupiter,
Made Neptunes Trident calme, the curled waues,
Gaue Æolus Lordship ore the warring winds;
Created blacke hair'd Pluto King of Ghosts,
And regent ore the Kingdomes fixt below.
By me Mars warres, and fluent Mercury
Speakes from my tongue. I plac'd diuine Apollo
Within the Sunnes bright Chariot. I made Venus
Goddesse of Loue, and to her winged sonne
Gaue seuerall arrowes, tipt with Gold and lead.
What hath not Homer done, to make his name
Liue to eternity? I was the man
That flourish'd in the worlds first infancy:
When it was yong, and knew not how to speake,
Euen in the Cradle: Oh then suffer me,
You that are in the worlds decrepit Age,
When it is neere his vniuersall graue,
To sing an old song; and in this Iron Age
Shew you the state of the first golden world,
I was the Muses Patron, learnings spring,
And you shall once more heare blinde Homer sing.
Enter two Lords.
1. Lord.
The old Vranus, sonne of the Aire & Day
Is dead, and left behinde him two braue sonnes,
Tytan and Saturne.
2.
Tytan is the eldest,
And should succeed by the true right of birth.
2. Lord.
But Saturn hath the hearts of al the people,
The Kingdomes high applause, his mothers loue,
The least of these are steppes vnto a crowne.
2. Lor.
But how wil Tytan beare him in these troubles,
Being by nature proud and insolent,
To see the yonger seated in his throne,
And he to whom the true right appertaines,
By birth, and law of Nations quite cast off?
1. Lord.
That either power or steele must arbitrate:
Causes best friended haue the best euent.
Here Saturne comes.
Enter Saturne and Vesta with other attendants.
Saturn.
Behold what nature skanted me in yeares,
And time, below my brother; your applause,
And general loue, fully supplies me with:
And make me to his crowne inheritable.
I choose it as my right by gift of heauen,
The peoples suffrage, the dead Kings bequest,
And your election, our faire mother Queene,
Against all these what can twelue moones of time,
Vesta.
The Cretan people, with shrill acclamations
Pronounce thee soueraigne ore their lands and liues,
Let Tytan storme, and threaten strange reuenge,
We are resolu'd thy honour to maintaine.
1. Lord.
Tytan, thy ruine shall attempt in vaine
Our hearts ad-here with Uestaes our late Queene,
According to our soueraignes late bequest,
To kneele to Saturne.
Saturne.
We accept your loues,
And we will striue by merite to exceed you.
In iust requitall of these fauours done.
Vesta.
Arme Lords, I heare the voyce
A noise of tumult within.
Of Tytan storming at this strange election.
Enter Tytan, Lycaon and others.
Tytan.
Descend proud vpstart, trickt vp in stoln weeds
Deckt in vsurped state, and borowed honours,
Resigne them to their owner, that's to me.
Sat.
Tytan keep off, I charge thee neere me not,
Lest I thy bold presumption seale with bloud.
Tytan.
A Crown's worth tugging for, & I wil ha't
Though in pursute I dare my ominous Fate.
Licaon.
Downe with the vsurper.
Vesta.
Saturne here shall stand,
Immoueable; vpheld by Vestaes hand.
Tytan.
Am I not eldest?
Vesta.
Ey but yong'st in braine.
Saturne the crowne hath ceas'd, and he shall reigne.
Tytan.
Am I a bastard, that my heritage
Is wrested from me by a yonger birth?
Hath Vesta plaid th'adulteresse with some stranger?
If I be eldest from Vranus loynes,
Your maiden Issue, why am I debar'd
The law of Nations? am I Vestaes sonne?
Why doth not Vesta then appeare a mother?
Neerer your heart then I, that hee's affected
And I despis'd? If none of these, then grant me,
What Iustice wils, my interest in the Crowne:
Or if you make me out-cast, if my Mother
Forget the loue she owes, I shall abandon
The duty of a sonne. If Saturne prooue
Vnnaturall, I'le be no more a brother,
But maugre all that haue my right withstood,
Reuenge my wrongs, & make my way through bloud.
Sat.
Tytan we both acknowledge thee a brother,
And Vestaes sonne, which wee'le expresse in loue.
But since for many vertues growing in me
That haue no life in you, the Queene, the Peeres,
And all the people, with lowd suffrages,
Haue shrild their Auees high aboue the clouds,
And stil'd me King, we should forget their loues
Not to maintaine their strange election.
Aduise you therefore, since this bold aduenture
Is much aboue your strength, to arme your selfe,
In search of future honours with our loue,
For what can Tytan do against a people?
Uesta.
Saturne aduiseth well, list to his consell.
Tytan.
If my owne land proue thus vnnaturall,
I'le purchase forrraine aid.
1. Lord.
Rather compound.
Sat.
Let Tytan make demand of any thing
Sauing our Crowne, he shall enioy it freely.
Uesta.
Tytan, your brother offers royally,
Accept his loue.
Tytan.
To loose a Crowne includes
The losse of all things. What should I demand?
Lycaon.
This grant him Saturne, since thy insinuation
Hath wrought him quite out of the Cretans hearts,
That Tytans warlike issue may succeed thee.
Tytan.
Lycaon well aduis'd, he during life,
Shall passe from Tytan to disturbe his reigne,
So to our Gyant race thou wilt assure
The crowne as due by right inheritance.
Saturne.
To cut off all hostile effusion
Of human bloud, which by our difference
Must needs be spilt vpon the barren earth,
Wee'le sweare to this accord.
Tytan.
Conditiond thus,
That to depriue all future enmity
In our succeeding Issue, thy male children
Thou in their Cradle strangle.
Saturne.
Kill my sonnes?
Tytan.
Or sweare to this, or all our warlike race,
Disperst in seuerall Kingdomes Il'e assemble,
To conquer thee, and from thy ambitious head,
Teare that vsurped Crowne.
Saturne.
Tytan, thy friendship
Wee'l buy with our own bloud, all our male children,
(If we hereafter shall haue any borne)
Shall perish in their births, to this we sweare,
As we are King and Saturne.
Tytan.
I the like,
As I am Tytan, and Vranus sonne:
This league confirm'd, all my Allyes I'le gather
Search forreigne clymes, in which Il'e plant my kin,
Scorning a seate here where I am dispis'd,
To liue a subiect to a younger birth.
Nor bow to that which is my owne by due.
Saturne farewell, Il'e leaue thee to thy state,
Whil'st I in forreigne Kingdomes search my Fate.
Thinke on thy oath.
Saturne.
First stay with vs and feast,
Tytan this day shall be King Saturns guest.
Enter the Clowne and a Nurse.
Clown.
There is no dallying, you must come with all speede,
Nurs.
That is without question, for she is now a Queene.
Clown.
Nay, she is greater then many Queenes are: for though
you may thinke she is with ancient folkes: yet I can assure you
she is with childe, you may imagine, beeing now but morning
shee is new risen, yet t'is thought that ere noone she will bee
brought a bed. I neuer heard she was committed to prison: yet
t'is look't euery houre when she shall be deliuered, and therefore
Nurse I was sent to you in all haste.
Nurs.
Is she so neere her time?
Clown.
Yes: and yet tis thought shee will notwithstanding
hold out, because she is groning.
Nurs.
Your reason?
Clowne.
Because you know the prouerbe: A grunting horse,
and a groning wife neuer deceiue their Maister: say, will you make
haste Nurse?
Nurs.
What's the best news abroad?
Clown.
The best newes abrode is, that the Queene is likely
to keepe at home and is it not strange, that halfe an houres being
abroad should make a woman haue a moneths minde to
keepe in. But the worst newes is, that if the King haue a young
Prince, hee is tide to kill it by oath: but if his maiesty went
drunke to bed, and got a gyrle, she hath leaue to liue till she
dye, and dye when she can liue no longer.
Nurs.
That couenant was the most vnnaturall
That euer father made: one louely boy
Hath felt the rigor of that strict decree,
And if this second likewise be a sonne,
There is no way but death.
Clown.
I can tell you more newes: the king hath sent to the
Oracle to know whether my Lady be with childe of a boy or a
gyrle, and what their fortunes shall be: the Lord that went, is
look't for euery day to returne with his answere: it is so Gossipt
in the Queenes chamber, I can tell you. O Nurse wee haue
the brauest king, if thou knewest all.
Nurs.
Why I pray thee?
Let his vertues speake for himselfe: he hath taught
his people to sow, to plow, to reape corne, and to skorne Akehorns
with their heeles, to bake and to brue: we that were wont
to drinke nothing but water, haue the brauest liquor at Court
as passeth. Besides, he hath deuised a strange engine, called a
Bow and Arrow, that a man may hold in hand, and kill a wilde
beast a great way off, and neuer come in danger of his clutches.
I'le tell you a strange thing Nurse, last time the King went a
hunting, he kild a beare, brought him home to be bak't and eaten:
A Gentlewoman of the Court, that fed hungerly vpon this
pye, had such a rumbling and roaring in her guts, that her Intrails
were all in a mutiny, and could not be appeased. No phisicke,
would helpe her, what did the King but caused an excellent
Mastiffe to be knock't in the head, and drest, gaue it to
the gentlewoman, of which when she had well eaten, the flesh
of the Mastiffe worried the beare in her belly, and euer since
her guts haue left wambling. But come, come, I was sent in hast,
the Queene must needs speake with you.
Exeunt.
Enter Saturne with wedges of gold and siluer, models of ships, and buildings, bow and arrowes, &c. His Lords with him.
Saturne.
You shall no more be lodg'd beneath the trees,
Nor chamber vnderneath the spreading Okes:
Behold, I haue deuis'd you formes for tooles,
To square out timber, and performe the Art
Of Architecture, yet vnknowne till now.
I'le draw you formes of Cities, Townes and Towers,
For vse and strength, behold the models here.
1. Lord.
Saturnes inuentions are diuine, not humane,
A God-like spirit hath inspir'd his reigne.
Saturne,
See here a second Arte of Husbandry,
To till the earth, to plow, to sow, to plant,
Deuis'd by Saturne: here is gold refin'd
From Grosser mettals, siluer, brasse, and tinne,
With other minerals, extract from earth.
Riuers and seas by practise Nauigable.
Behold a forme to make your Craers and Barkes
To passe huge streames in safety, dangerlesse.
2. Lord
Saturne is a God.
Saturn.
The last, not least, this vse of Archery,
The stringed, bow, and nimble-fethered-shaft:
By this you may command the flying fowle,
And reach her from on high: this serues for warre,
To strike and wound thy foe-man from a farre.
What meanes this acclamation?
A lowd shout within.
1. Lord.
Tis thy people,
Deuinest Saturne furnisht with these vses,
(More then the Gods haue lent them) by thy meanes.
Proclaime to thee a lasting deity.
And would haue Saturne honoured as a God.
Saturn.
Wee'l study future profits for their vse,
And in our fresh inuentions proue diuine.
But Gods are neuer touch't with my suspires,
Passions and throbs: their God-like Issue thriue,
Whilst I vn-man-like must destroy my babes.
Oh my strict oath to Tytan, which confounds
All my precedent honours: one sweete babe,
My yongest Ops hath felt the bloudy knife,
And perisht in his swathing: And my Queene
Swels with another Infant in her wombe,
Ready to taste like rigor. Is that Lord
Return'd from Delphos yet?
2 Lord.
He is.
Saturn.
Admit him: now what doth the Oracle
Speake by the Delphian Priest.
3. Lord.
Thus mighty Saturne.
After our Ceremonious Rites perform'd,
And Sacrifice ended with reuerence,
A murmuring thunder hurried through the Temple.
When fell a pleasant shower, whose siluer drops.
In this amazement, thus the Delphian God,
Spake from the Incenst Altar: Lord of Creete,
Thus say to Saturne: Sibill his faire wife,
Is great with a yong Prince of Noble hopes,
That shall his fathers vertues much excell,
Ceaze on his Crowne, and driue him downe to Hell.
Sat.
The Gods (if there be any boue our selfe)
Enuy our greatnesse, and of one that seekes
To beare himselfe boue man, makes me more wretched
Then the most slauish bruit. What shall my Sibill
Bring me a sonne, that shall depose me then?
He shall not; I will crosse the Deities,
I'le toombe th'usurper in his Infant bloud,
I'le keepe my oath; Prince Tytan shall succeed,
Maugre the enuious Gods, the brat shall bleed.
1. Lor.
Way for the dowager Queene,
Enter Vesta sad.
Sat.
How fares our mother?
How i'st with faire Sibilla, our deere Queene?
Vesta.
Your Queenes deliuered.
Sat.
Of some female birth,
You Deities I begge: make me oh Heauens,
No more inhumane in the tragicke slaughter
Of princely Infants, fill my decreed number
With Virgins, though in them I loose my name
And kingdome, either make her barren euer
Or else all generatiue power and appetite
Depriue me: lest my purple sinne be stil'd
Many degrees boue murder. What's her birth?
Vesta.
Shee's the sad mother of a second sonne.
Saturn.
Be euer dumbe, let euerlasting silence
Tong-tye the world, all humane voyce henceforth,
Turne to confus'd, and vndistinguisht sound,
Of barking Hounds, hoarse beares, & howling wolues,
To stop all rumour that may fil the world
With Saturnes tyranies against his sonnes.
Ah, did but Saturne see yon smiling babe,
Hee'd giue it life, and breake ten thousand oathes
Rather then suffer the sweet infant dye,
His very looke would begge a quicke reprieue
Euen of the tyrant Tytan saw the vnkle
With what a gracefull looke the Infant smiles,
Hee'd giue it life, although he purchas'd it
with losse of a great Kingdome.
Saturn.
Then spare the lad: I did offend too much
To kill the first, tell Sibill he shall liue,
I'le be no more so monstrous in my rigor,
Nor with the bloud of Princes buy my Crowne.
No more their Cradles shall be made their Tombes,
Nor their soft swathes become their winding sheetes:
How can my subiects thinke Il'e spare their liues,
That to my owne can be so tyranous?
Tell Sibill he shall liue.
Uest.
Vesta will be that ioyfull messenger.
Saturn.
Stay, let me first reward the Oracle,
It told me Sibill should produce a sonne,
That should his Fathers vertues much excell,
Cease on my Crowne, and driue me downe to Hell.
Must I then giue an Infant-traitor life,
To sting me to the heart? the brat shall bleed.
Uesta.
Sweet sonne.
1. Lord.
Deere soueraigne.
Saturn.
He that next replyes,
Mother or friend, by Saturnes fury dyes.
Away, fetch me his heart, brimme me a bowle
With his warme bloud. Tytan, my vow I'le keep,
Life newly wakend, shall as newly sleep.
Vest.
Worse then a bruit, for bruits preserue their own
Worse then the worst of things is Saturne growne.
Saturn.
Command the childe to death.
Uesta.
Tyrant, I will.
Tygers would saue whom Saturn means to kill,
Sat.
It is my sonne whom I command to death,
And to posterity reuiue my name.
Call Vesta backe, and bid her saue the Babe.
1. Lord.
I'le do't my Lord.
Sat.
Yet stay: the lad to kill
I saue my oath, and keep my kingdome still.
Post after her, and charge them on their liues,
Send me the babes bloud in a cup of gold,
A present which I'le offer to the Gods.
Delay not, bee't our mother, nay our wife,
Forfeits her owne to saue the Infants life.
1. Lord.
I shall informe them so.
Sat.
Is this a deity,
To be more wretched then the worst on earth,
To be depriu'd, that comfort of my issue,
Which euen the basest of my land enioy:
Il'e henceforth for my rigor hate my selfe,
Pleasures despise, and ioyes abandon quite.
The purest bloud that runnes within my veines,
I'le dull with thicke, and troubled melancholy,
Il'e warre with comfort, be at oddes with solace,
And league with nothing but distemprature.
Henceforth my vnkem'd lockes shall knot in curles,
Rasor nor any edge shall kisse my cheeke,
Vntill my chin appeare a wildernesse,
And make we wild in knowledge to the world.
Perpetuall care shall cabin in my heart,
My tyranny I'le punish in my selfe,
And saue the Gods that labour—
Saturns disturbance to the world shall be,
That planet that infuseth melancholy.
Enter Sibilla lying in child-bed, with her child lying by her, and her Nurse, &c.
Sibilla.
Is not our mother Vesta yet return'd,
That made herselfe th'unwilling messenger,
To bring the king newes of his new-borne sonne?
Madam, not yet.
Sibil.
Mother, of all that euer mothers were
Most wretched kisse thy sweet babe ere he dye,
That hath life onely lent to suffer death.
Sweet Lad, I would thy father saw thee smile,
Thy beauty and thy pretty Infancy,
Would molifie his heart wer't hew'd from flint,
Or caru'd with Iron tooles from the corsicke rocke,
Thou laughest to thinke thou must be kild in iest.
Oh if thou needs must dye, I'le bethy murdresse,
And kill thee with my kisses (pretty knaue)
And canst thou laugh to see thy mother weepe?
Or art thou in thy cheerefull smiles so free
In scorne of thy rude fathers tyranny?
Nurs.
Madam, the King hath slaine his first borne son,
Whom had hee seene aliue, hee'd not haue giuen
For ten such Kingdomes as he now enioyes,
The death of such a faire and hopefull child,
Is full as much as Tytan can demand.
Sib.
He shall spare this sweet babe, I'le ransome thee
With my owne life, the knife that pierceth thee,
Will wound thy mothers side, and I shall feele
The least sharpe stroke from his offensiue steele.
Nurs.
The mother Queen's return'd.
Enter Vesta
How lookes she Nurse?
Let her not speake, but yet a little longer
My hopes hold in suspence: oh me most wretched,
I reade my Lords harsh answere in her eye,
Her very lookes tell me the boy must dye.
Say, must he? must he? kill me with that word,
Which will wound deeper then King Saturnes sword.
Vesta.
The boy must dye.
Sib.
Oh!
Nurs.
Looke to the Queene, she faints.
Vest.
Oh let's not loose the mother with her infant,
The losse of one's too much.
Oh wher's my childe?
Ile hide thee in my bed, my bosome, brest,
The murderer shall not finde my little sonne,
Thou shalt not dye, be not afraid my boy.
Go tell the King hees mine as well as his,
And I'le not kill my part: one he hath slaine,
In which I had like interest: this I'le saue,
And euery second sonne keepe from the graue.
Enter the first Lord.
Vesta.
Fobeare sir, for this place is priuiledg'd,
And onely for free women.
1. Lord.
Yet is the Kings command boue your decree,
And I must play th'intruder gainst my will.
The King vpon your liues hath charged you,
To see that infant Lad immediatly
Receiue his death, he stayes for his warme bloud
To offer to the Gods. To thinke him slaine,
Sad partner of your sorrowes I remaine.
Nurs.
Madam you heare the king doth threat our liues
Let's kill him then.
Sib.
Is he inexorable?
Why should not I proue as seuere a mother
As he a cruell father: since the King
Hath doom'd him, I the Queene will doo't my selfe,
Giue me the fatall Engine of his wrath,
Il'e play the horrid murdresse for this once.
I'le kisse thee ere I kill thee: for my life,
The Lad so smiles, I cannot hold the knife.
Uesta.
Then giue him me, I am his Grand-mother,
And I will kill him gently: this sad office
Belongs to me, as to the next of kin.
Sib.
For heauens sake when you kil him hurt him nor.
Vesta.
Come little knaue, prepare your naked throat,
I haue not heart to giue thee many wounds,
My kindnesse is to take thy life at once. (Now.)
Alacke my pretty Grand-child, smil'st thou still?
Nurs.
You may be carelesse of the kings command,
But it concernes me, and I loue my life
More then I do a sucklings, giue him me,
I'le make him sure, a sharpe weapon lend,
I'le quickly bring the yongster to his end.
Alacke my pretty knaue, t'were more then sin,
With a sharpe knife to touch thy tender skin.
Oh Madame, hee's so full of Angell grace
I cannot strike, he smiles so in my face.
Sib.
I'le wink & strike, come once more reach him hither:
For dye he must, so Saturne hath decreed,
'Las for a world I would not see him bleed.
Vesta.
Ne shall he do, but sweare me secresie,
The babe shall liue, and we be dangerlesse,
Sib,
O blesse me with such happinesse.
Vesta.
Attend me.
The king of Epires daughters, two bright maids,
Owe me for many fauours the like loue,
These I dare trust, to them I'le send this babe
To be brought vp, but not as Saturns sonne.
Do but prouide some trusty messenger,
My honour for his safety.
Sib.
But by what meanes shall we delude the king,
Vest.
A yong Kids heart, swimming in reeking bloud
Wee'l send the King, and with such forged griefe,
And counterfet sorrow shadow it,
That this imposture neuer shall be found.
Sib.
Oh twice my mother you bestow vpon me,
A double life thus to preserue my boy.
Nurs.
Giue me the child, I'le finde a messenger,
Shall beare him safe to Melliseus Court.
Vesta.
The bloud and heart I'le presently prouide,
T'appease the rage of Saturne.
Sib.
First lets sweare,
To keepe this secret from King Saturnes eare.
We will, and if this plot passe vndiscouer'd
By like deuise we will saue all your sonnes.
About our taskes; you some choyce friend to finde,
I with my feigned teares the King to blinde.
| The Golden Age. Or The liues of Jupiter and Saturne, with the defining of the Heathen Gods | |