University of Virginia Library

The Prologue at Court: Enter two old men.

1

Are you then trauelling to the temple of Eliza?

2

Euen to her temple are my feeble limmes trauelling.
Some cal her Pandora: some Gloriana, some
Cynthia: some Delphæbe, some Astræa: all by seuerall
names to expresse seuerall loues: Yet all those names make but
one celestiall body, as all those loues meete to create but one
soule.

1

I am one of her owne countrie, and we adore her by the
name of Eliza.

2

Blessed name, happie countrie: Your Eliza makes your
land Elizium: but what doe you offer?

1

That which all true Subiects should: when I was young,
an Armed hand; now I am crooked, an vpright heart: But what
offer you?

2

That which all straungers doe: two eyes strucke blinde
with admiration: Two lips (proud to sound her glorie:) Two
hands held vp full of prayers and praises: What not, that may
expresse loue? what not, that may make her beloued?

1

How long ist since you last beheld her?

2

A iust yeere: yet that yeere hath seemd to me but one day,
because her glorie hath beene my howrely contemplation, and
yet that yeere hath seemd to me more then twice seuen yeres,
because so long I haue beene absent from her. Come therefore,
good father, lets goe faster, least we come too late: for see, the
Tapers of the night are already lighted, and stand brightly burning
in their starrie Candlestickes: See howe gloriously the
Moone shines vpon vs.

Both kneele.
1
Peace foole: tremble, and kneele: The Moone saist thou?
Our eyes are dazled by Elizaes beames,
See (if at least thou dare see) where shee sits:
This is the great Panthæon of our Goddesse,
And all those faces which thine eyes thought starres,
Are Nymphes attending on her deitie.
Prithee begin, for I want power to speake.

2
No, no, speake thou, I want words to begin.

Weepes.
1
Alacke what shall I doe? com'st thou with me,
And weepst now thou beholdst this Maiestie?

2
Great land-lady of hearts, pardon me.

1
Blame not mine eyes, good father, in these teares.

2
My pure loue shines, as thine doth in thy feares:
I weepe for ioy to see so many heads
Of prudent Ladies, clothed in the liuerie
Of siluer-handed age, for seruing you,
Whilst in your eyes youthes glory doth renue:
I weepe for ioy to see the Sunne looke old,
To see the Moone mad at her often change,
To see the Starres onely by night to shine,
Whilst you are still bright, still one, still diuine:
I weepe for ioy to see the world decay,
Yet see Eliza flourishing like May:
O pardon me your Pilgrim, I haue measurd
Many a mile to find you: and haue brought,
Old Fortunatus and his family,
With other Cipnots (my poore countrie men)
To pay a whole yeeres tribute: O vouchsafe,
Dread Queene of Fayries, with your gracious eyes,
T'accept theirs and our humble sacrifice.

1
Now ile beg for thee too: and yet I need not:
Her sacred hand hath euermore beene knowne,
As soone held out to straungers as her owne.

2
Thou doest incourage me: Ile fetch them in,
They haue no princely gifts, we are all poore,
Our offrings are true hearts, who can wish more?

Exeunt.