 | The Lovers Melancholy |  |
1
Actus I.
Scena I.
Enter Menaphon and Pelias.Menaphon.
Dangers? How meane you dangers? that so courtly
You gratulate my safe returne from dangers?
Pel.
From Trauailes (noble Sir.)
Men.
These are delights,
If my experience hath not Trewant-like
Mis-spent the time, which I haue stroue to vse,
For bettering my mind with obseruation.
Pel.
As I am modest, I protest 'tis strange:
But is it possible?
Men.
What?
Pel.
To bestride
The frothy fomes of Neptunes surging waues,
When blustring Boreas tosseth vp the deepe,
And thumps a thunder bounce?
2
Sweet Sir, 'tis nothing,
Straight comes a Dolphin playing neere your ship,
Heauing his crooked backe vp, and presents
A Feather-bed, to waft'ee to the shoare,
As easily as if you slept i'th' Court.
Pel.
Indeed, is't true, I pray?
Men.
I will not stretch
Your Faith vpon the Teinters, prethee Pelias,
Where didst thou learne this language?
Pel.
I this language?
Alas, Sir, we that study words and formes
Of complement, must fashion all discourse,
According to the nature of the subiect.
Enter Amethus, Sophronos, and Attendants.
But I am silent, now appeares a Sunne,
Whose shadow I adore.
Men.
My honour'd Father.
Soph.
From mine eyes, son, son of my care, my loue,
The ioyes that bid thee welcome, doe too much
speake me a child.
Men.
O Princely Sir, your hand.
Amet.
Performe your duties where you owe them first,
I dare not be so sudden in the pleasures,
Thy presence hath brought home.
Soph.
Here thou still findest
A Friend as noble (Menaphon) as when
Thou left'st at thy departure.
Men.
Yes, I know it,
To him I owe more seruice.—
Amet.
Pray giue leaue,
He shall attend your intertainements soone,
Next day, and next day, for an houre or two,
I would engrosse him onely.
Soph.
Noble Lord.
3
Y'are both dismist.
Pel.
Your creature, and your Seruant.
Exeunt all but Ameth. Menap.
Ame.
Giue me thy hand, I will not say, Th'art welcome,
That is the common roade of cōmon friends,
I am glad I haue thee here—O, I want words
To let thee know my heart.
Men.
'Tis peec'd to mine.
Ame.
Yes, 'tis, as firmely, as that holy thing
Call'd Friendship can vnite it. Menaphon,
My Menaphon: now all the goodly blessings,
That can create a Heauen on earth, dwell with thee.
Twelue monthes we haue been sundred, but henceforth
We neuer more will part, till that sad houre,
In which death leaues the one of vs behind,
To see the others funerals perform'd.
Let's now a while be free. How haue thy trauailes
Disburth'ned thee abroad of discontents?
Men.
Such cure as sicke men find in changing beds,
I found in change of Ayres; the fancy flatter'd
My hopes with ease, as theirs doe, but the griefe
Is still the same.
Ame.
Such is my case at home.
Cleophyla, thy Kinswoman, that Maide
Of sweetnesse and humility, more pities
Her Fathers poore afflictions, then the tide
Of my complaints.
Men.
Thamasta, my great Mistris,
Your Princely Sister, hath, I hope ere this,
Confirm'd affection on some worthy choice.
Ame.
Not any, Menaphon. Her bosome yet
Is intermur'd with Ice, though by the truth
Of loue, no day hath euer past, wherein
4
Thy—Come, in troth I dare not tell thee what,
Lest thou mightst thinke I fawnd vpon a sinne
Friendship was neuer guilty of; for flattery
Is monstrous in a true friend.
Men.
Does the Court
Weare the old lookcs too?
Ame.
If thou mean'st the Prince,
It does, hee's the same melancholy man,
He was at's Fathers death, sometimes speakes sence,
But seldome mirth; will smile, but seldome laugh;
Will lend an eare to businesse, deale in none;
Gaze vpon Reuels, Anticke Fopperies,
But is not mou'd; will sparingly discourse,
Heare musicke; but what most he takes delight in,
Are handsome pictures; one so young, and goodly,
So sweet in his owne nature, any Story
Hath seldome mentioned.
Men.
Why should such as I am,
Groane vnder the light burthens of small sorrowes,
When as a Prince, so potent, cannot shun
Motions of passion? To be man (my Lord)
Is to be but the exercise of cares
In seuerall shapes; as miseries doe grow,
They alter as mens formes; but how, none know.
Ame.
This little Ile of Cyprus sure abounds
In greater wonders, both for change and fortune,
Then any you haue seene abroad.
Men.
Then any
I haue obseru'd abroad: all Countries else
To a free eye and mind yeeld something rare;
And I for my part, haue brought home one Iewell
Of admirable value.
5
Iewell, Menaphon?
Men.
A Iewell, my Amethus, a faire Youth;
A Youth, whom if I were but superstitious,
I should repute an Excellence more high,
Then meere creations are, to adde delight.
I'le tell yee how I found him.
Ame.
Prethee doe.
Men.
Passing from Italy to Greece, the Tales
Which Poets of an elder time haue fain'd
To glorifie their Tempe, bred in me
Desire of visiting that Paradise.
To Thessaly I came, and liuing priuate,
Without acquaintance of more sweet companions,
Then the old In-mates to my loue, my thoughts;
I day by day frequented silent Groues,
And solitarie Walkes. One morning early
This accident incountred me: I heard
The sweetest and most rauishing contention,
That Art of Nature euer were at strife in.
Ame.
I cannot yet conceiue, what you inferre
By Art and Nature.
Men.
I shall soone resolue yee.
A sound of musicke toucht mine eares, or rather
Indeed intranc'd my soule: as I stole neerer,
Inuited by the melody, I saw
This Youth, this faire-fac'd Youth, vpon his Lute
With straines of strange variety and harmony,
Proclaiming (as it seem'd) so bold a challenge
To the cleare Quiristers of the Woods, the Birds,
That as they flockt about him, all stood silent,
Wondring at what they heard. I wondred too.
Ame.
And so doe I, good,—on.
Men.
A Nightingale.
6
The challenge, and for euery seuerall straine
The wel-shapt Youth could touch, she sung her down;
He coo'd not run Diuision with more Art
Vpon his quaking Instrument, then she,
The Nightingale did with her various notes
Reply too, for a voyce, and for a sound,
Amethus, tis much easier to beleeue
That such they were, then hope to heare againe.
Amet.
How did the Riuals part?
Mena.
You terme them rightly,
For they were Riuals, and their Mistris harmony.
Some time thus spent, the young man grew at last
Into a pretty anger, that a bird
Whom Art had neuer taught Cliffs, Moods, or Notes,
Should vie with him for mastery, whose study
Had busied many houres to perfit practise:
To end the controuersie, in a rapture,
Vpon his Instrument he playes so swiftly,
So many voluntaries, and so quicke,
That there was curiositie and cunning,
Concord in discord, lines of diffring method
Meeting in one full Center of delight.
Amet.
Now for the bird.
Mena.
The bird ordain'd to be
Musicks first Martyr, stroue to imitate
These seuerall sounds: which, when her warbling throat
Fail'd in, for griefe, downe dropt she on his Lute,
And brake her heart; it was the quaintest sadnesse,
To see the Conquerour vpon her Hearse,
To weepe a funerall Elegy of teares,
That trust me (my Amethus) I coo'd chide
Mine owne vnmanly weakenesse, that made me
7
Amet.
I beleeue thee.
Mena.
He lookes vpon the trophies of his Art,
Then sigh'd, then wip'd his eyes, then sigh'd, and cride,
Alas poore creature: I will soone reuenge
This cruelty vpon the Author of it;
Henceforth this Lute guilty of innocent blood,
Shall neuer more betray a harmelesse peace
To an vntimely end: and in that sorrow,
As he was pashing it against a tree,
I suddenly stept in.
Amet.
Thou hast discourst
A truth of mirth and pitie.
Mena.
I reprieu'd
Th'intended execution with intreaties,
And interruption: but (my Princely friend)
It was not strange, the musicke of his hand
Did ouer-match birds, when his voyce and beauty,
Youth, carriage and discretion, must, from men
Indu'd with reason, rauish admiration:
From me they did.
Amet.
But is this miracle
Not to be seene?
Men.
I won him by degrees
To chuse me his Companion whence he is,
Or who, as I durst modestly inquire,
So gently hee would woo not to make knowne:
Onely for reasons to himselfe reseru'd.
He told me, that some remnant of his life
Was to be spent in Trauaile; for his fortunes,
They were nor meane, nor riotous, his friends
Not publisht to the world, though not obscure:
His Countrey, Athens; and his name, Parthenophill.
Amet.
Came he with you to Cyprus?
8
Willingly.
The fame of our young melancholy Prince,
Meleanders rare distractions, the obedience
Of young Cleophila, Thamasta's glory,
Your matchlesse friendship, and my desperate loue
Preuail'd with him, and I haue lodg'd him priuately
In Famagosta.
Amet.
Now th'art doubly welcome:
I will not lose the sight of such a rarity
For one part of my hopes. When d'ee intend
To visit my great-spirited Sister.
Mena.
May I
Without offence?
Amet.
Without offence? Parthenophill
Shall find a worthy intertainement too.
Thou art not still a coward.
Mena.
Shee's too excellent,
And I too low in merit.
Amet.
Ile prepare
A noble welcome. And (friend) ere we part,
Vnloade to thee an ouer-charged heart.
Exeunt.
Enter Rhetius carelesly attyr'd.
Rhet.
I will not court the madnesse of the times,
Nor fawne vpon the Riots that embalme
Our wanton Gentry, to preserue the dust
Of their affected vanities in coffins
Of memorable shame; when Common-wealths
Totter and reele from that nobilitie
And ancient vertue, which renownes the great,
Who steere the Helme of gouernment, while Mushrooms
Grow vp, & make new lawes to licence folly:
Why should not I, a May-game, scorne the weight
Of my sunke fortunes? snarle at the vices
9
Be mine owne Anticke? Tis a sport to liue
When life is irkesome, if we will not hug
Prosperity in others, and contemne
Affliction in our selues. This Rule is certaine,
“He that pursues his safety from the Schoole
“Of State, must learne to be mad man, or foole.
Ambition, wealth, ease, I renounce the diuell
That damns yee here on earth, or I will be—
Mine owne mirth, or mine owne tormentor,—So,
Enter Pelius.
Here comes intelligence, a Buz o'the Court.
Pel.
Rhetias, I sought thee out to tell thee newes,
New, excellent new newes. Cucolus, Sirra,
That Gull, that young old Gull, is comming this way.
Rhet.
And thou art his forerunner?
Pel.
Prethee heare me:
In stead of a fine guarded Page,
We haue got him
A Boy, trickt vp in neat and handsome
Fashion;
Perswaded him, that tis indeed a Wench;
And he has entertain'd him, he does follow him,
Carries his sword and buckler, waits on his trencher,
Filles him his Wine, Tobacco, whets his knife,
Lackeyes his letters, does what seruice else
He would imploy his man in: being askt,
Why he is so irregular in Courtship?
His answer is, that since great Ladies vse
Gentlemen Vshers to goe bare before them,
He knowes no reason, but he may reduce
The Courtiers to haue women waite on them,
And he begins the fashion; he is laught at
10
Rhet.
Agelastus, so surnamed for his grauity,
Was a very wise fellow, kept his countenance
All dayes of his life as demurely, as a Iudge that
Pronounceth sentence of death, on a poore Roague,
For stealing as much bacon, as would serue at a meale
With a Calues head. Yet he smil'd once,
And neuer but once: Thou art no Scholler?
Pel.
I haue read Pamphlets dedicated to me:
Dost call him Agelastus? why did he laugh?
Rhet.
To see an Asse eate Thistles.
Puppy, go study to be a singular Coxcomb. Cuculus is an
Ordinary Ape, but thou art an Ape of an Ape.
Enter Cuculus and Grilla.
Pel.
Thou hast a Patent to abuse thy friends:
Looke, looke, he comes, obserue him seriously.
Cucul.
Reach me my sword and buckler.
Grill.
They are here, forsooth.
Cucul.
How now (Minkes) how now? Where is your duty, your distance?
Let me haue seruice methodically tendred; you are now
One of vs. Your cursey; good: remember that you are
To practise Courtship: was thy father a Piper, saist thou?
Grill.
A sounder of some such wind instrumēt forsooth.
Cucull.
Was he so? hold vp thy head; be thou musicall
To me, and I will marry thee to a dancer: one
That shall ryde on his Foot-cloth, and maintaine thee
In thy Muffe and Hood.
Grill.
That will be fine indeed.
Cucul.
Thou art yet but simple.
Grill.
Dee thinke so?
Cucul.
I haue a braine; I haue a head-piece;
O my conscience, if I take paines with thee, I shood
11
Or a Court-midwife at least, I will make thee big
In time, wench.
Grill.
E'en doe your pleasure with me, Sir.
Pel.
Noble accomplisht Cuculus.
Rhet.
Giue me thy fist, Innocent.
Cucul.
Would 'twere in thy belly, there tis.
Pel.
That's well, hee's an honest blade, though he be blunt.
Cucul.
Who cares? we can be as blunt as he for's life.
Rhet.
Cuculus, there is within a mile or two, a Sow-pig
Hath suckt a Brach, and now hunts the Deere, the Hare,
Nay, most vnnaturally the wilde Bore,
Aswell as any Hound in Cyprus.
Cucul.
Monstrous Sow-pig! ist true?
Pel.
Ile be at charge of a banket on thee for a sight of her.
Rhet.
Euery thing takes after the dam that gaue it suck:
Where hadst thou thy milke?
Cucul.
I? Why, my nurses husband was a most excellent maker
Of Shittle-cocks.
Pel.
My nurse was a woman-surgeon.
Rhet.
And who gaue thee pap, Mouse?
Gril.
I neuer suckt that I remember.
Rhet.
La now, a Shittle-cock-maker, all thy braines
are stucke with corke and feather. Cuculus, this learned
Courtier takes after the nurse too, a she-surgeon,
which is in effect a meere matter of colours. Goe,
learne to paint and dawbe complements, tis the next
step to run into a new suit; my Lady Periwinckle here
neuer suckt; suck thy Master, and bring forth Moone-calues,
Fop, doe; This is good Philosophy, Sirs, make
vse on't.
Grill.
Blesse vs, what a strange Creature this is?
Cucul.
A Gull, an arrant Gull by Proclamation.
12
Pel.
Corax, the Princes chiefe Physicion;
What businesse speeds his haste—
Are all things well, Sir?
Cor.
Yes, yes, yes.
Rhet.
Phew, you may wheele about, man, wee know
y'are proud of your slouenry and practice, tis your vertue;
the Princes melancholy fit I presume holds still.
Cora.
So doe thy knauery and desperate beggery.
Cucul.
Aha: here's one will tickle the ban-dog.
Rhet.
You must not goe yet.
Cora.
Ile stay in spight of thy teeth. There lyes my
grauity:
Doe what thou darest, I stand thee.
Rhet.
Mountebanck, Empricks, Quacksaluers, Mineralists,
Wizards, Alchimists, cast-Apothecaries, old
Wiues and Barbers, are all suppositors to the right
Worshipfull Doctor, as I take it.
Some of yee are the head of your Art, & the hornes too,
but they come by nature, thou liuest single for no other
end, but that thou fearest to be a Cuckold.
Cora.
Haue at thee; thou affect'st railing onely for
thy health, thy miseries are so thicke and so lasting that
thou hast not one poore denier to bestow on opening a
veine. Wherefore to auoide a Plurisie, thou't be sure
to prate thy selfe once a month into a whipping, and
bleed in the breech in stead of the arme.
Rhet.
Haue at thee agen.
Cora.
Come.
Cucul.
There, there, there; O braue Doctor.
13
Let 'em alone.
Rhet.
Thou art in thy Religion an Atheist, in thy
condition a Curre, in thy dyet an Epicure, in thy lust a
Goate, in thy sleepe a Hogge; thou tak'st vpon thee the
habit of a graue Phisition, but art indeed an impostrous
Emperike. Physicions are the bodies Coblers, rather
the Botchers of mens bodies; as the one patches our
tatterd clothes, so the other solders our diseased flesh.
Come on.
Cuc.
Tot, tot, hold him tot, hold him toot, tot, tot, tot.
Cora.
The best worth in thee, is the corruption of
thy minde, for that onely intitles thee to the dignity of
a lowse: a thing bred out of the filth and superfluity of
ill humours: Thou byt'st any where; and any man
who defends not himselfe with the cleane linnen of secure
honesty; him thou darest not come neere. Thou
art Fortunes Ideot, Vertues Bankrupt, Times Dunghil,
Manhoods Scandall, and thine owne scourge. Thou
wouldst hang thy selfe, so wretchedly miserable thou
art; but that no man will trust thee with as much money
as will buy a halter: and all thy stocke to be sold, is
not worth halfe as much as may procure it.
Rhet.
Ha, ha, ha; this is flattery, grosse flattery.
Cora.
I haue imployment for thee, and for yee all,
Tut, these are but good morrowes betweene vs.
Rhet.
Are thy bottles full?
Cor.
Of rich wine, lets all sucke together.
Rhet.
Like so many Swine in a trough.
Cora.
Ile shape yee all for a deuise before the Prince,
Wee'le trie how that can moue him.
Rhet.
He shall fret or laugh.
Cucul.
Must I make one?
Cora.
Yes, and your feminine Page too.
14
Thankes most egregiously.
Pel.
I will not slacke my part.
Cucul.
Wench, take my buckler.
Cora.
Come all vnto my chamber, the proiect is cast,
The time onely we must attend.
Rhet.
The melody must agree well, and yeeld sport,
When such as these are, Knaues and Fooles consort.
Exeunt.
Enter Amethus, Thamasta and Kala.
Amet.
Does this shew well?
Tham.
What would you haue me doe?
Amet.
Not like a Lady of the trim, new crept
Out of the shell of sluttish sweat and labour,
Into the glittering pompe of ease and wantonnesse,
Imbroideries, and all these antike fashions,
That shape a woman monstrous; to transforme
Your education, and a Noble birth
Into contempt and laughter. Sister, Sister,
She who deriues her blood from Princes, ought
To glorifie her greatnesse by humility.
Tham.
Then you conclude me proud.
Amet.
Young Menaphon,
My worthy friend, has lou'd you long, and truly,
To witnesse his obedience to your scorne,
Twelue moneths (wrong'd Gentleman) he vndertooke
A voluntary exile. Wherefore (Sister)
In this time of his absence, haue you not
Dispos'd of your affections on some Monarch?
Or sent Embassadors to some neighbouring King
With fawning protestations of your graces?
Your rare perfections, admirable beauty?
15
Would haue deseru'd a Chronicle!
Tham.
You are bitter;
And brother, by your leaue, not kindly wise.
My freedome is my births, I am not bound
To fancy your approuements, but my owne.
Indeed you are an humble youth, I heare of
Your visits, and your louing commendation
To your hearts Saint, Cleophila, a Virgin
Of a rare excellence: what though she want
A portion to maintaine a portly greatnesse?
Yet tis your gracious sweetnesse to descend
So low, the meeknesse of your pity leades yee.
She is your deare friends Sister, a good soule,
An Innocent.
Amet.
Thamasta.
Tham.
I haue giuen
Your Menaphon a welcome home as fits me;
For his sake entertain'd Parthenophill,
The handsome Stranger, more familiarly
Then (I may feare) becomes me; yet for his part,
I not repent my courtesies, but you—
Amet.
No more, no more; be affable to both:
Time may reclaime your cruelty.
Tham.
I pitty
The youth, and trust me (brother) loue his sadnesse:
He talkes the prettiest stories, he deliuers
His tales so gracefully, that I coo'd sit
And listen, nay forget my meales and sleepe,
To heare his neat discourses. Menaphon
Was well aduis'd in chusing such a friend,
For pleading his true loue.
Amet.
Now I commend thee,
16
Enter Menaphon and Eroclea in mans attire.
Tham.
I feare I shall.
Amet.
Haue ye suruaid the Garden?
Men.
Tis a curious,
A pleasantly contriu'd delight.
Tham.
Your eye (Sir)
Hath in your trauailes, often met contents
Of more variety.
Eroc.
Not any (Lady.)
Men.
It were impossible, since your faire presence
Makes euery place where it vouchsafes to shine,
More louely then all other helpes of Art
Can equall.
Tham.
What you meane by helpes of Art,
You know your selfe best, be they as they are:
You need none I am sure to set me forth.
Men.
'Twould argue want of manners, more then skill,
Not to praise praise itselfe.
Tham.
For your reward,
Henceforth Ile call you Seruant.
Amet.
Excellent Sister.
Men.
'Tis my first step to honour: May I fall
Lower then shame, when I neglect all seruice
That may confirme this fauour.
Tham.
Are you well, Sir?
Eroc.
Great Princesse, I am well, to see a League
Betweene an humble loue, such as my Friends is,
And a commanding vertue, such as yours is,
Are sure restoratiues.
Tham.
You speake ingeniously.
Brother, be pleas'd to shew the Gallery
To this young stranger, vse the time a while,
17
I will present yee (Sir) vnto the Prince.
Eroc.
Y'are all compos'd of fairenesse, and true bounty.
Amet.
Come, come, wee'l wait thee, Sister: this beginning
Doth rellish happy processe.
Mena.
You haue blest me.
Exeunt all but Thamasta and Kala.
Tham.
Kala, O Kala,
Kala.
Lady.
Tham.
We are priuate, thou art my Closet.
Kala.
Locke your secrets close then:
I am not to be forc'd.
Tham.
Neuer till now,
Coo'd I be sensible of being traytor
To honour and to shame.
Kala.
You are in loue.
Tham.
I am growne base—Parthenophill—
Kala.
Hee's handsome,
Richly indow'd; he hath a louely face,
A winning tongue.
Tham.
If euer I must fall,
In him my greatnesse sinkes. Loue is a Tyrant
Resisted; whisper in his eare, how gladly
I would steale time, to talke with him one houre;
But doe it honourably; preth'ee Kala
Doe not betray me.
Kala.
Madame, I will make it
Mine owne case; he shall thinke I am in loue with him.
Tham.
I hope thou art not Kala.
Kala.
Tis for your sake:
Ile tell him so; but Faith I am not, Lady.
Tham.
Pray vse me kindly; let me not too soone
Be lost in my new follyes. Tis a Fate
That ouer-rules our wisdomes, whil'st we striue
18
Diamonds cut Diamonds: they who will proue
To thriue in cunning, must cure loue with loue.
Exit.
Finis Actus Primi.
| The Lovers Melancholy | |