University of Virginia Library

Actus Tertius.

Enter Raybright Melancholy.
Ray.
Oh my deer love the Spring, I am cheated of thee;
Thou hadst a body the four elements
Dwelt never in a fairer; a minde princely:
Thy language like thy singers, Musical.
How coole wert thou in anger, in thy dyet
How temperate, and yet sumptuous; thou wouldst not waste
The waight of a sad violet in excesse;
yet still thy board had dishes numberlesse.
Dumbe beasts even lov'd thee; once a young Lark
Sate on thy hand, and gazing on thine eyes
Mounted and sung, thinking them moving skies—

Enter Follie.
Fol.

I ha don my Lord: my Muse has pump'd hard for an
Epitaph upon the late departed Spring, and here her lines spring
up.

Ray.

Read.

Fol.

Ray.
No more are thine, thou Ideot; hast thou none
To poison with thy nastie jiggs but mine,
My matchless frame of nature, Creations wonder,
Out of my sight.

Fol.

I am not in't, if I were, you'd see but scurvily; you finde
fault as Patrons do with books, to give nothing.

Ray.
Yes ball'd one, beastly base one, blockish away;
Vex me not fool, turn out a doors your rorer,
French Tailor, and that Spanish ginger-bread,
And your Italian skipper; then sir, your self.

Fol.

My self! Carbonado me, bastinado me, strapado me,
hang me, I'le not stir; poor Follie, honest Follie, jocundary Follie
forsake your Lordship; no true Gentleman hates me, and
how many women are given daily to me (if I would take em)
some not far off know; Tailor gon, Spanish figg gon, all gon
but I—

Enter Humor.
Hu.
My waiters coited off by you, you flea them;
Whence com these thunder-bolts, what furies haunt you?

Ray.
You.

Fol.
Shee!

Ray.
Yes, and thou.

Fol.
Baw waw.

Ray.
I shall grow old, diseas'd, and melancholy;
For you have robb'd me both of Youth and Health,
And that delight my Spring bestow'd upon me:
But for you two, I should be wondrous good;
By you I have been cozen'd, baffled, and torn
From the embracements of the noblest creature.

Hu.
Your Spring.

Ray.
Yes she, even she, onely the Spring:
One morning spent with her, was worth ten nights
With ten of the prime beauties in the world:
She was unhappie never, but in two sons,
March a rude roring fool.

Fol.
And April a whining puppie.

Hu.
But May was a fine piece.

Ray.
Mirror of faces.

Fol.

Indeed May was a sweet creature, and yet a great raiser

of May-poles.

Hu.
When will you sing my praises thus?

Ray.
Thy praises, that art a common creature.

Hu.
Common!

Ray.
Yes, common: I cannot passe through any Princes Court,
Through any Countrie, Camp, Town, Citie, Village,
But up your name is cried, nay curs'd; a vengeance
On this your debauch'd Humor.

Fol.

A Vintner spoke those very words last night, to a company
of roring boies, that would not pay their reckoning.

Ray.

How many bastards hast thou?

Hu.

None.

Ray.

'Tis a lie, bee judg by this your squire else.

Fol.

Squire! worshipful Mr Follie.

Ray.

The Courtier has his Humor, has he not Follie?

Fol.

Yes marry has he, follie; the Courtier's humor is to bee
brave, and not pay for't; to bee proud, and no man cares for't.

Ray.

Brave Ladies have their humors.

Fol.

Who has to do with that, but brave Lords.

Ray.

Your Citizens have brave humors.

Fol.

Oh! but their wives have tickling humors.

Hu.

Yet don.

Fol.

Humor Madam, if all are your bastards that are given to
humor you, you have a companie of as arrant rascals to your
children, as ever went toth' gallows; a Collier being drunk jossell'd
a Knight into the kennel, and cry'd 'twas his humor; the
Knight broke his coxcomb, and that was his humor.

Ray.
And yet you are not common.

Hu.
No matter what I am:
Rail, curse, be frantick, get you to the tomb
Of your rare Mistresse; dig up your dead Spring
And lie with her, kisse her; me, have you lost.

Fol.
And I scorn to be found.

Ray.
Stay: must I lose all comfort, dearest stay;
There's such a deal of magick in those eies,
I'me charm'd to kisse these onely.

Fol.
Are you so? kisse on, I'le be kiss'd som where I warrant.

Ray.
I will not leav my Follie for a world.

Fol.
Nor I you for ten.

Ray.
Nor thee my love, for worlds pil'd upon worlds.

Hu.
If ever for the Spring you do but sigh, I take my bells.

Fol.
And I my hobby-horse,—Will you be merry than, and jawfand.

Ray.
As merry as the Cuckows of the spring,

Fol.
Again.

Ray.
How Ladie, lies the way?

Hu.
I'le be your convoy,
And bring you to the Court of the Suns queen,
(Summer a glorious and majestick creature)
Her face out-shining the poor Springs, as far
As a sun-beam doe's a lamp, the moon a star.

Ray.
Such are the spheres I'de move in, attend us Follie.

Ext.
Enter Raybright and Humor.
Ray.
I muse, my nimble Follie staies so long.

Hu.
Hee's quick enough of foot, and counts, I swear)
That minute cast away, not spent on you.

Ray.
His companie is musick, next to yours;
Both of you are a Consort; and I, your tunes
Lull me asleep, and when I most am sad,
My sorrows vanish from me in soft dreams:
But how far must we travel, is it our motion
Puts us in this heat; or is the air
In love with us, it clings with such embraces,
It keeps us in this warmth.

Hu.
This shews, her Court
Is not far off, you covet so to see:
Her subjects seldom kindle needlesse fires,
The Sun lends them his flames.

Ray.
Has she rare buildings.

Hu.
Magnificent and curious; every noon
The horses of the day bait there, whilst he
(Who in a golden Chariot makes them gallop
In twelve hours o're the world) a lights a while,
To give a love-kisse to the Summer-queen.

Ray.
And shall we have fine sights there?

Hu.
Oh!

Ray.
And hear more ravishing musick?

Bu.
All the quiristers
That learn't to sing i'th Temple of the Spring;
But her attain such cunning, that when the windes
Rore and are mad, and clouds in antick gambols
Dance o're our head, their voices have such charms,
They'l all stand still to listen—

Ray.
Excellent.

Enter Follie.
Fol.
I sweat like a pamper'd jade of Asia, and drop like a
Cob-nut out of Africa—

Enter a Forrester.
For.
Back: whither go you?
Oyes! this way.

For.
None must passe:
Here's kept no open Court; our Queen this day
Rides forth a hunting, and the air being hot,
She will not have rude throngs to stifle her—back.

Ext.
Enter Summer and Delight.
Sum.
And did break her heart then.

Del.
Yes with disdain.

Sum.
The heart of my deer mother nurse the Spring,
I'le breake his heart for't: had she not a face,
Too tempting for a Jove.

Del.
The graces sate,
On her faire eye-lids ever, but his youth
Lusting for change, so doted on a Lady,
Phantastick, and yet fair, a peece of wonder:
They call her Humor; and her parasite Folly,
He cast the sweet Spring off, and turn'd us from him;
Yet his celestial kinsman, for young Raybright
Is the Suns darling: knowing his jorneying hither
To see thy glorious Court, sends mee before
To attend on you, and spend all my hours
In care for him—

Enter Sun.
Recorders.
Sum.
Obay your charge—oh thou builder,
Of me thy hand mald! Landlord of my life,
Life of my love, throne where my glories sit;
I ride in tryumph on a silver clowd;
Now I but see thee.

Sun.
Rise; is Raybright come yet.

Del.
Not yet.

Sun.
Be you indulgent over him,
And lavish thou thy treasure—

Enter Plenty.
Plen.
Our princely Cosen Raybright,
Your darling, and the worlds delight, is come.

Sun.
who with them.

Ple.
A goddesse in a woman, attended
By a prating sawcie fellow, called Follie.

Sun.
They'l confound him, but he shall run,
Go and receive him.

Sum.
Your sparkling eyes, and his arivall, drawes
Heapes of admirers; earth it self will sweat
To bear our weighte; vouchsafe, bright power, to borrow
Winds not too rough from Æolus, to san
Our glowing faces

Sun.
I will: ho Æolus;
Unlock the jayle, and lend a winde or two,
To fan my girle the Summer.

Æo.
I will.

Sun.
No rorers.

Æo.
No.

Hoboyes,
Sun.
Quickly.

Æo.
Fly you slaves, Summer sweats; cool her.

The Sun takes his seat above.
Enter Summer, Raybright, Humor, Plenty, Folly, Country fellows and Wenches.
SONG.

Sum.
Leav off, the Sun is angry, & has drawn
The Sun by degrees is clowded.
A clowd before his face.

Hu.
He is vex'd to see
That proud star shine near you, at whose rising
The Spring fell sick and dy'd; think what I told you,
His coynes will kill you else.

Sum.
It cannot—fair Prince!
Though your illustrious name has touch'd mine ear:
Till now I never saw you, nor never saw
A man whom I more love, more hate.

Ray.
Ha Ladie!

Sum.
For him I love you, from whose glittering raies
You boast your great name for that name I hate you,
Because you kill'd my mother, and my nurse.

Plen.
Kill'd he my grandmother, Plenty will never
Hold you by th'hand again.

Sum.
You have free leave
To thrust your arm into our treasurie
As deep as I my self: Plenty shall waie
Still at your elbow, all my sports are yours,
Attendants yours, my state and glorie's yours;
But these shall be as sun-beams from a glasse
Reflected on you, not to give you heat
To dote on a smooth face, my spirit's too great.

Exit.
Ray.
Divinest!

Florish
Hu.
Let her go.

Fol.

And I'le go after, for I must and will have a fling at one of
her plum-trees.

Ray.
I ne're was scorn'd till now.

Hu.
This is that Alteza,
That Rhodian wonder, gaz'd at by the Sun:
I fear'd thine eies should have beheld a face,
The Moon has not a clearer, this! a dowdie.

Fol.
An Ouzle, this a queen-apple; or a crab she gave you.

Hu.
She bid's you share her treasure, but who keeps it.

Fol.

She point's to trees great with childe with fruit, but when
delivered grapes hang in ropes, but no drawing, not a drop of
wine: whole ears of corn lay their ears together for bread, but
the divel a bit I can touch.

Hu.

Be rul'd by me once more, leave her.

Ray.

In scorn, as he doe's me.

Fol.

Scorn! If I be not deceived, I ha seen Summer go up and
down with hot Codlings; and that little baggage, her daughter
Plenty, crying six bunches of Raddish for a peny.

Hu.
Thou shalt have nobler welcoms, for I'le bring thee
To a brave and bounteous house-keeper, free Autumne.

Fol.
Oh! there's a lad—let's go then.

Plen.
Where's this Prince, my mother; for the Indies
Must not have you part—

Ra.
Must not?

Sum.
No; must not.
I did but chide thee like a whistling winde
Playing with leavie dancers: when I told thee
I hated thee, I lied; I doat upon thee.
Unlock my garden of th'Hesperides,
By draggons kept (the Apples beeing pure gold)
Take all that fruit, 'tis thine.

Plen.

Love but my mother, I'le give thee corn enough to feed
the world.

Ray.
I need not golden apples, nor your corn;
What land soe're, the worlds surveyor, the Sun
Can measure in a day, I dare call mine:
All kingdoms I have right to, I am free
Of every Countrie; in the four elements
I have as deep a share as an Emperor;
All beasts whom the earth bears are to serv me,
All birds to sing to me, and can you catch me
With a tempting golden Apple,

Plen.
Shee's too good for thee;
When she was born, the Sun for joy did rise
Before his time, onely to kisse those eies,
Which having touch'd, he stole from them such store
Of light, she shone more bright then e're before:
At which he vow'd, when ever shee did die,
Hee'd snatch them up, and in his sisters sphere
Place them, since she had no two stars so clear.

Ray.
Let him now snatch them up away.

Hu.
Away, and leav this Gipsie.

Sun.
Oh! I am lost.

Ray.
Love scorn'd, of no triumph more then love can boast.

Exit.
Plen.
This strump will confound him.

Recorders.
Sum.
Shee has me deluded—

Enter Sun.
Sun.
Is Raybright gon.

Sum.
Yes, and his spightful eies
Have shot darts through me.

Sun.
I, thy wounds will cure,
And lengthen out thy daies, his followers gon.
Cupid and Fortune take you charge of him.
Here thou, my brightest Queen, must end thy reign,
Som nine months hence I'le shine on thee again.

Exeunt.