University of Virginia Library

ACT. I.

An Altar.
Enter the Priest of the Sun.
Raybright discovered sleeping.
Pr.
SONG.

Ray.
That I might ever slumber, and enjoy
Contents as happie as the soul's best wishes
Can fancie or imagine, 'tis a crueltie
Beyond example, to usurp the peace
I sate inthron'd in, who was't pluck'd mee from it.

Pr.
Young man look hither.

Ray.
Good; I envie not
The pomp of your high office; all preferment
Of earthly glories are to me diseases,
Infecting those sound parts which should preserve
The flattering retribution to my thankfulness;
The times are better to me; there's no taste
Left on the pallate of my discontent
To catch at emptie hopes, whose onely blessedness
Depends on beeing miserable.

Pr.
Raybright.
Thou drawst thy great descent from my grand patron the Sun;
whose priest I am.

Ray.
For small advantage;
Hee who is high-born never mounts yon battlemen
Of sparkling stars, unless I bee in spirit
As humble as the childe of one that sweats
To eat the dear-earn'd bread of honest thrift.

Pr.
Hast thou not flow'd in honors?

Ray.
Honors, I'de not bee baited with my fears
Of loosing em, to bee their monitrous creature
An age together, 'tis beside as comfortable
To die upon the embrodrie of the grass,
Unwinded, as to set a world at gaze,
Whilst from a pinacle I tumble down
And break my neck, to bee talk'd of, and wonder'd at.

Pr.
You have worn rich habits.
Fine Ass-trappings.
A Pedler's heir turn'd gallant, follows fashion.
Can by a cross-legg'd Tailor bee transform'd
Into a Jack a napes of passing bravery:
'Tis a stout hapiness to wear good clothes,
Yet live and die a fool—mew.

Pr.
You have had choice
Of beauties to enrich your marriage-bed.

Ray.
Monkyes and Parakeetoes are as prettie
To play withall, tho not indeed so gentle.
Honestie's indeed a fine jewel, but the Indies
Where it grows is hard to bee discovered, troath sir
I care for no long travels with lost labor.

Pr.
Pleasures of every sence have been your servants,
When as y'ave commanded them.

Ray.
To threaten ruine,
Corrupt the puritie of knowledg, wrest
Desires of better life, to those of these
This scurvie one, this life scarce worth the keeping.

Pr.
'Tis melancholy, and too fond indulgence
To your own dull'd affections: sway your judgment,
You could not else bee thus lost, or suspect
The care your ancestor the Sun takes of yee.

Ray.
The care, the scorn hee throws on mee.

Pr.
Fie, fie;
Have you been sent out into strange lands,
Seen Courts of forreign Kings, by them been grac'd,
To bring home such neglect.

Ray.
I have reason for't.

Pr.
Pray shew it.

Ray.
Since my coming home I have found
More sweets in one unprofitable dream,
Then in my lives whole pilgrimage.

Pr.
Your fantasie
Misleads your judgment vainly, sir in brief
I am to tell you, how I have receiv'd
From your Progenitor, my Lord, the Sun,
A token, that he visibly will descend
From the celestial orbe to gratifie
all your wilde longings.

Ray.
Very likely, when pray:
The world the whiles shall be beholding to him
For a long night, new married men will curse,
Tho their brides tickle for't, oh! candle and lanthorn
Will grow to an excessive rate i'th Citie.

Pr.
These are but flashes of a brain disordered.
Contein your float of spleen in seemly bounds,
Your eies shall bee your witness.

Ray.
Hee may come.

Enter Time with a whip, whipping Follie before him.
Tim.
Hence, hence, thou shame of nature, mankindes foil:
Time whipps thee from the world, kicks thee, and scorns thee.

Fol.

Whip me from the world, why whip? am I a dog, a cur,
a mungrel; baw waw. Do thy worst, I defie thee.

Sings.

And what think you of this, you old doting moth-eaten bearded
rascal; as I am Follie by them others side, and a true-bred
Gentleman, I will sing thee to death, if thou vex mee: Cannot
a man of fashion, for his pleasure, put on now and then his

working-day robes of humility, but he must presently be subiect
to a Beadles rod of Correction; goe mend thy selfe Caniball, 'tis
not without need, I am sure the Times were never more beggerly
and proud, waiting-women flant it in Cast-suits, and their Ladies
fall for em; knaves over-brave wise men, while wise men stand
with cap and knee to fooles: Pitifull Time! pitifull Time!

Ty.
Out foul, prodigious, and a bortive birth;
Behold the sand glasse of thy dayes is broke

Fol.
Bring me another, I'le shatter that too.

Ty.
No; th'aft mispent thy hours, lavish fool, like
The circuit of thy life, in ceaselesse riots
It is not therefore fit that thou shouldst live
In such a Court as the Sunnes Majesty
Vouchsafes to illuminate with his bright beames.

Fol.

In any Court, father bald-pate, where my granam the
Moon shews her hornes, except the Confistory Court, and there
she need not appeare; Cuckolds Carry such sharp Stelettoes in
their fore-heads, I'le live here and laugh at the bravery of ignorance,
mauger thy scurvie and abhominable beard.

Ty.
Priest of the Sunne 'tis neere about the minute,
thy Patron will descend, scourge hence this trifle;
Time is ne're lost, till in the common Schools
Of impudence, time meets with wilfull fooles.

Exit.
Fol.

Farewell 1538, I might have said five thousand, but the
others long enough a Concience to be honest Condition'd, pox on
him; it's anotable railing whipper, of a plain Time whipper.

Pre.

You heard the charge he left.

Fol.

I, I, a may give a charge, a has been a petty Court-holder
ever since he was a minute old, he tooke you for a fore-man
of a Jurie.

Ray.
Pray sir, what are you?

Fol.
Noe matter what, what are you?

Ray.
Not as you are, I thank my better fates,
I am grand child to the Sun.

Fol.

And I am Cosen german, some two or three hundred removes
off, to the Moon, and my name is Folly.

Ray.

Folly, sir of what quality?

Fol.

Quality; any quality in fashion: Drinkeing, Whoring,
Singing, Dancing, Dicing, Swearing, Roring, Foisting, Lying,

Cogging, Canting, & cetero, will you have any more.

Ray.

you have a merry heart, if you can guid it.

Fol.

Yes faith; so, so, I laugh not at those whome I feare,
fear not those whom I love, and I love not any whom I laugh not
at, pretty strange humor, is't not?

Ray.
To any one that knowes you not, it is.

Pre.
You must a void.

Enter Recorders.
Fol.
Away away, I have no such meaning indeed-la.

Pre.
Hark the faire hour is com, draw to the Alter,
And with a mazement, reverence, and comfort
Behold the broad ey'd lamp of heaven descending,—Stand—

The Sunne above.
Fol.
Oh brave!

Pre.
SONG.

Roy.
Let not my fate too swiftly runne,
Till thou acknowledge me thy sunne.
Oh theres no joy even from the wombe,
Of frailty: till we be called home.

Fol.

Now am I an arant rascall, and cannot speak one word
for my selfe, if I were hang'd.

Sun.
Ray-bright.

Pre.
It calles yee, answer.

Ray.
Lord and Father.

Sun.
We know thy cares, appear to give release,
Boldly make thy demands, for we wil please
To grant what ere thou saist for.

Ray.
Fair beam'd sir;
I dare not greedily prefer
Eternitie of earths delights,
Before that dutie which invites
My filial pietie, in this
Your love shall perfect my hearts bliss;
If I, but for one onely year,
Enjoy the several pleasures here,
With every season in his kinde,
Can bless a mortal with.

Sun.
I finde
Thy reason breeds thy appetite, and grant it
Thou master'st thy desire, and shall not want it;
To the spring garden let him bee convey'd,
And entertain'd there by that lovely maid:
All the varieties the Spring can shew,
Be subject to his will.

Pre.
Lights Lord, wee go.

Fol.
And I will follow, that am not in love with such fopperies.

Exit.
Sun.
We must descend, and leav a while our sphere
To greet the world—ha, there does now appear
A circle in this round, of beams that shine,
As if their friendly lights would darken mine:
No let em shine out still, for these are they,
By whose sweet favors, when our warmths decay,
Even in the storms of winter, daily nourish
Our active motions, which in Summer flourish
By their fair quickning dews of noble loves:
Oh may you all like stars, whilst swift time moves,
Stand fixt in firmaments of blest contents:
Mean while recreations wee present,
Shall strive to please; I have the foremost tract;
Each season else begins and ends an Act.

Exit.