University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A rocky shore, wild and desart, with a distant view of the sea. Calypso is discovered sitting in a disconsolate posture. Antiope and the Nymphs attending. She rises.
AIR. CALYPSO.
Ye founts, whose rilling waters creep,
In murmuring currents to the deep,
Ah, teach my tears to flow!
And you that o'er my island fly,
Ye winged breezes, catch my sigh,
And spread it as you go.

ANTIOPE.
How long will the divine Calypso weep
For false Ulysses? Was immortal youth
Only bestow'd, that you should mourn for ever?

CALYPSO.
I think it was.

ANTIOPE.
Ah, no, it cannot be;
Upon that watery mirror turn thine eyes,
And if 'tis fit such lustre should be given,
For tears to wash it out, weep on.

CALYPSO.
Well, my kind nymphs, I'll strive to be less sad.

ANTIOPE.
Goddess, be mirthful; we were made for mirth:
Give sorrow to the winds.

CALYPSO.
I would I could.

ANTIOPE.
Look at your island once so fair and smiling,
What is it now? a tear-besprinkled rock,
A howling waste of doleful sighs and groans,
No seat, as once it was, for love and joy:
But smile, dear goddess, smile again;
Thy beauty hath a renovating power,
Which Nature must obey.

CALYPSO.
I know my power
Can call up spring, trick out my isle afresh
In all its flowery bloom, and change the face
Of faded nature; but no power have I
Myself to change, or stem one falling tear;
Therefore this scene were best—Yet for your sakes,
All that I can, I will. Let me have music;
Strange is the magic of harmonious song,
And strong its workings in the hearer's heart:
Sing then, but let it be some soothing air,
Light, not fantastic; stealing on the ear,
Not loudly storming it; and welcome 'twere,
Might it take off, though but a feather's weight,
From my sad bosom's load.

AIR. ANTIOPE.

CALYPSO.
Your music wins my sorrow to attention;
It stirs it, as the zephyr does the rose,
Shaking the dew-drops from its weeping leaves;
But still my rooted grief resists your song.
Now, wood nymph—

A Wood Nymph enters.
NYMPH.
As I kept my watch but now
On the tall summit of yond eastern cliff,
I saw a goodly bark approach your isle;
Lab'ring she seem'd with still-opposed helm
And top-sails, courting the reluctant breeze,
To stem the flattering tide, that gently woo'd her
To the false smiling shore, her sandy grave.

CALYPSO.
Where are my magic imps, that us'd to do
My sportive errands?

ANTIOPE.
In their rocky cave
Torpid they lie, and lifeless with disuse.

RECITATIVE. CALYPSO.
Take thou my wand, and with it smite the rock:
Let them all forth:—'tis well—Behold
How the grim cavern yawns! And hark, they cry—

Antiope having struck the rock with the wand, it suddenly falls asunder, and discovers a deep dark cavern.
AIR. DÆMONS in the Cave.
Magic queen, whose potent spell
Binds us in this dreary cave,
Loose us from our prison-cell;
Save us, mighty mistress, save!

RECITATIVE. CALYPSO.
Dæmons, come forth!
[Six Dæmons come forth, bound with chains.
What will you do, ye sprites,
From your gall'd limbs, if I strike off
These adamantine fetters?

RECITATIVE. FIRST DÆMON.
Sovereign, we'll dance for joy,
And sing loud glees of liberty and triumph;
Will run upon the moon beams, mount the winds,
And jade the lagging coursers of the air
To do thee grace and service, so you'll free us.

RECITATIVE. CALYPSO.
Zudore, stand forth; where is my watery spirit?
East of my isle thou'lt find a goodly bark
Conflicting with the gale; force it on shore,
Plunge it in sand, or rive it on the rocks:
Whom it contains, I know not; but if men,
They must be faithless.

RECITATIVE. ZUDORE.
Sovereign, it is done.

RECITATIVE. CALYPSO.
Forth, and be free: fall fetters, and away!

AIR. DÆMONS.
Joy, joy, joy!
Woeful nights and days are past,
Sullen sleep and sour annoy,
Holiday is come at last.
Happy, happy spirits we,
Leap and dance and frisk amain;
Freely forth, and flit with me,
Till our queen cries, come again.

[They vanish.
CALYPSO.
They're gone like shadows, and dispers'd
To all the points of heav'n; and hark,
The loud turmoil begins!
[A storm of thunder and lightning: the sea is greatly agitated, and the air darkened.
Antiope!

ANTIOPE.
What wills my queen?

CALYPSO.
This storm, which I have rais'd,
Will call up Proteus from the troubled deep:
On the sea shore, upon the western point,
Within his oozy haunt, you'll find the god;
A prophet, as thou know'st, he can resolve me,
If 'tis decreed Ulysses shall revisit
His native Ithaca; to me, alas!
The book of fate is shut.

ANTIOPE.
And kindly shut;
Why wilt thou urge enquiry?

CALYPSO.
Nay, but go.
To all but thee, ungentle, the fond monster
Gloats on thy beauties; thou through all his forms
Canst fix the shifting deity: away!
But if thy charms prevail not, take these fetters,
And, by my nymphs assisted, cast them on him,
And bring him bound before us.

ANTIOPE.
I obey.

[Exeunt severally.