University of Virginia Library

The Scene.
A Forrest, on the side of a Hill a fair House representing an Inne or Tavern, out of which cometh an Host, being a jolly sprightly old man, his Cap turn'd up with Crimson, his Doublet Fustian, with Jerkin and hanging sleeves, Trunk hose of Russet, Stockings yellow, cross gartered; after him a Chamberlain.
Ho.
Are all things in their preparation,
For my Immortall guests?

Ch.
Nothing is wanting
That doth concern my Province Sir, I am
Your Officer above stairs. The great Chamber
With the two woodden Monuments to sleep in
(That weigh six load of Timber, Sir) are ready.
That for the Prince D' Amour, whom we call Cupid,
I have trimm'd artificially with Roses,
And his own Mother's Mirtle. But I have
Committed Sacrilege to please the other,
Death do's delight in Ew, and I have rob'd
A Church-yard for him. Are you sure they'l come
To night? I would fain see this Dwarf call'd Cupid,
For t'other, I look on him in my fancy,
Like a starv'd goblin.

Ho.
Death, I must confess,
Cuts not so many inches in the Say,
As our last Venison, 'tis a thin-chap'd hound,
And yet the Cormorant is ever feeding.

Ch.
He is kin to the devouring Gentleman
Of the long robe—

Ho.
That has bespoke a Chamber
I'th' College among the Bears, and means to be
In commons with them.

Ch.
But good sir resolve me,
Are they good spirited guests? will they tipple
To elevation? do they scatter metall
Upon the waiters? Will they rore, and fancie
The Drawers, and the Fiddles, till their pockets
Are empty as our neighbours drone? and after
Drop by degrees their wardrobe? and in the morning,
When they have day-light to behold their nakedness,
Will they with confidence amaze the streets?
And in their shirts to save their pickel'd credits,
Pretend a race, and trip it like fell footmen?
These rantings were the badges of our Gentry,
But all their dancing dayes are done, I fear.

Ho.
These were the garbs, and motions, late in fashion
With humorous mortalls; but these guests are of
No humane race.

Ch.
'Pray what attendance have they?

Ho.
Love has two
Gentlemen, that wait on him in his Chamber,
Of speciall trust, he cannot act without them.

Ch.
Their Names sir, I beseech you?

Ho.
Folly and Madness.

Ch.
A pair of precious instruments, and fit
To be o'th' privy counsell.

Ho.
We may see
What most of our Nobility are come to.

Ch.
Sure they are well descended sir.

Ho.
The fool
Could ride a hundred mile in his own Pedegree,
And give as many Coats—

Ch.
Fools coats, there are
Enough to wear them.

Ho.
As he had Acres in
Eleven fat Lordships,
And plaid at Duck and Drake with Gold, like Pibbles.

Ch.
Was this man born a fool?

Ho.
No, but his keeping
Company with Philosophers undid him,
Who found him out a Mistris, they call'd Fame,
And made him spend half his estate in Libraries,
Which he bestowed Colleges, took the toy
Of building quadrangles, kept open house,
And fell at last most desperatly in love
With a poor Dayrie Maid, for which he was begg'd—

Ch.
A Fool?

Ho.
And leads the Van in Cupids regiment.

Ch.
What was the Mad-man sir?

Ho.
A Thing was born to a very fair per annum,
And spent it all in Looking-glasses.

Ch.
How?
That's a project I never heard on, Looking-glasses?
How many did he break sir in a day?

Ho.
They broke him rather, in the right understanding;
For Nature having given him a good face,
The man grew wilde with his own admirations,
And spent his full means upon flatterers.
That represented him next to an Angell.
Thus blown up, he took confidence to Court
A Lady of noble blood, and swelling Fortune;
Within three dayes fell sick of the small Pox,
And on the fourth run mad, with the conceit
His face, when he recover'd, would be like
A Country Cake, from which some children had
New pick'd the plums.

Ch.
A brace of pretty beagles.

Ho.
They are here.

Ch.
I see not Death.

Ho.
He's the last thing we look for.

Enter Cupid, Folly, Madness, the Host joyns with them in a Dance.

SONG.
Though little be the God of love,
Yet his Arrows mighty are,
And his Victories above
What the valiant reach by War,
Nor are his limits with the skie;
O'r the milky way he'l flie,
And sometimes wound a Deitie.
Apollo once the Python slew,
But a keener Arrow flew
From Daphne's eye, and made a wound
For which the God no Balsome found;
One smile of Venus too did more
On Mars, than Armies could before;
If a warm fit thus pull him down,
How will she Ague-shake him with a frown;
Thus Love can fiery spirits tame,
And when he please cold Rocks inflame.

Enter Death, he Danceth the second Entrie, after which, he speaks.
De.
Holla! within!

Enter Chamberlain.
Ch.
You are welcome Gentlemen; ha?
Quarter, oh quarter, I am a friend sir,
A moveable belonging to this Tenement
Where you are expected, Cupid is come already,
And supp'd, and almost drunk; we ha' reserv'd
According to order, for your palate, sir,
The Cokatrices Eggs, the cold Toad-Pie,
Ten dozen of Spiders, and the Adders tongues
Your servant Famine, sir, bespoke.

De.
Live, live.

Exit.
Ch.
I thank you sir; a curse upon his physnomy;
How was I surpriz'd? 'twas high time to comfort me,
I felt my life was melting downward.


Death, oh death!

Within.
Ch.
Who's that? I do not like the voice. What art?

Enter Despair with a Halter.
Des.
A miserable thing.

Ch.
I, so thou seem'st;
Hast not a name?

Des.
My name, sir, is Despair.

Ch.
Despair, my time's not come yet, what have I
To do with thee? what com'st thou hither for?

Des.
To find out Death; Life is a burden to me;
I have pursu'd all Paths to find him out,
And here i'th' Forrest had a glimpse on him,
But could not reach him with my feet, or voice;
I would fain dy, but Death flies from me, sir.

Ch.
I wonder you should travell in the Forrest,
And among so many Trees find none convenient,
Having the tackling ready, 'bout your neck too.
Some great affairs take up the Devils time,
He cannot sure attend these low employments,
Hee's busie 'bout Leviathans. I know not,
There's somthing in't; you have not made your Will sure.

Des.
Yes, sir, I carry it wo'me, it wants nothing
But his name, and my subscription.

Ch.
VVhose name?

Des.
His name I mean to make my Heir.

Ch.
VVho's that?

Des.
That charitable man
VVill bring Death to me, there's a blank left for him,
And if you please to do me, sir, the office,
Even you shall be the man; I have profest
An Usurer these fifty years, and upwards;
The VVidows and sad Orphans, whose estates
I have devoured, are croking in my conscience.

Ch.
And shall he be your Heir, that does this feat,
To make you acquainted with this Canniball
You talk of?

Des.
Oh my happiness!

Ch.
I'll do it.
But I believe you're sorry for your baseness,
Your rapines and Extortion—

Des.
Mistake not,
I am sorry for no mischief I have done,
That would come neer repentance, which you know
Cures all the akings of the Soul: If I
Could but be sorry, Death were of no use to me.

Ch.
Keep ye of that mind, you say very right sir,
I'll try what I can do
With Death; to do your conscience a courtesie,
He's now within our house; I'll bring you Pen
And Ink to write my name too, honest father.

Des.
Thou art my dearest child, take all my blessings.

Ch.
Here's like to be a fortune.

Exit.
Des.
I want strength
To clime, I see a very pretty twig else,
He climes.
And space for a most comfortable swing,
'Tis a hard case, the Devill wo'not help
At a dead lift.
He falls.
O my Sciatica!
I have broke my Spectacles, and both my Hips
Are out of joynt; help—

Enter Chamberlain with a Bottle of Wine.
Ch.
Death will be with you presently, the last course
Is now on the Table; that you may not think
The time long, I have brought you—ha? rise up sir.

Des.
Alas, I have had a fall, I was endevouring
To do the meritorious work, and hang
My self, for Death me thought was long a comming,
But my foot slipt.

Ch.
Alas, what pitty 'twas?
If I had thought your soul had been in such
Hast, I would have given you a lift before
I went.

Des.
It was my zeal.

Ch.
Alas it seem'd so;
You might have took the River with more ease,
The stream would have convey'd you down so gently,
You should not feel which way your soul was going.
But against the frights, Death might bring with him,
I have brought you a Bottle of Wine. I'll begin, sir.

He drinks.
Des.
Would it were Poyson.

Ch.
So would not I, I thank you,
'Tis pure blood of the Grape.

Des.
Wine?

Ch.
At my charge, I know you do not use
To pay for Nectar,
I bestow it sir.

Des.
That's kindly said, I care not if I tast—

Ch.
I'th' mean time please you, I'll peruse the Will,
I can put in my own name, and make it fit
For your subscription—what's here?—
Reads.
Ha? a thousand pound in Jewells—in ready money
Ten thousand more—Land—ha' preserve my senses!
I'll write my name, and thank heaven afterwards.
—Here sir, before you can subscribe, the Gentleman
VVill come, and kill you to your hearts content.

Des.
Hum! this foolish Wine has warm'd me, what d'ee
Call the name on't?

Ch.
Sack.

Des.
Sack, why truly son—

Ch.
Nay sir make hast, for Death will be here instantly.

Des.
At his own leisure, I would not be troublesome;
Now I do know his lodging, I can come
Another time.

Ch.
But the Will Father, you may write now—

Des.
Deeds are not vigorous without legall witnesses;
My Scrivener lives at the next Town, and I
Do find my body in a disposition
To walk a mile or two. Sack d'ee call it?
How strangely it does alter my opinion?

Ch.
Why? have you no mind to hang your self?

Des.
I thank you,
I find no inclination.

Ch.
Sha'not I be your Heir then?

Des.
In the humour,
And spirit, I now feel in brain, and body,
I may live—to see you hang'd; I thank you heartily.

Ch.
But you will have the conscience, I hope,
To pay me for the Wine, has wrought this miracle.

Des.
Your free gift I remember, you know, I use not
To pay for Nectar, as you call it. Yet
I am not without purpose to be gratefull,
Some things shall be corrected in my Will,
In the mean time, if you'l accept of a
Gives him the Halter.
Small Legacy, this hemp is at your service,
And it shall cost you nothing, I bestow it.
We men of money, worn with age, and cares,
Drink in new life, from Wine, that costs us nothing.
Farewell, and learn this lesson from Despair,
Give not your Father Sack to be his Heir.

Ch.
Not a tear left? would's brains were in the bottle.

Exit.
SONG.

Enter Chamberlain.
Ch.
Ho Master, master!

Enter Host.
Ho.
What's the matter?

Ch.
Nothing but to ask you, whether you be
Alive or no, or whether I am not
My own ghost, that thus walk, and haunt your house.

Ho.
Thou lookest frighted.

Ch.
Death and his train, are gone,
I thank Heaven he's departed; I slept not
One wink to night, nor durst I pray aloud,
For fear of waking Death; but he at midnight
Calls for a Cup to quench his thirst, a bowl
Of blood I gave him for a mornings draught,
And had an Ague all the while he drunk it.
At parting, in my own defence, and hope
To please him, I desir'd to kiss his hand,
Which was so cold, o'th' sudden, sir, my mouth
Was frozen up, which as the case stood
Then with my teeth, did me a benefit,
And kept the dancing bones from leaping out.
At length, fearing for ever to be speechless,
I us'd the strength of both my hands to open
My lips, and now feel'd every word I spake
Drop from it like an Icycle.

Ho.
This cold
Fit will be over; what said Cupid?

Ch.
He
VVas fast asleep,

Ho.
The Boy went drunk to bed,
Death did not wake him?

Ch.
It was not necessary in point of reckoning,
Death was as free as any Emperour,
And payes all where he comes, Death quits all scores.
I have the summa totalis in my pocket.
But he without more ceremony left
The house at morning twilight.

Ho.
Ha? they knock—
Get thee a cup of VVine to warm thy intralls.
Exit Chamb.
Though Love himself be but a water-drinker,
His train allow themselves rich Wines. Your Fool
And Madman is your onely guests to Taverns,
And to Excesse; this licence time affords,
VVhen Masters pay, their servants drink like lords.

Enter Chamb.
Ch.
Sir, they call for you, Cupid's up, and ready,
And looks as fresh, as if he had known no surfeit
Of Virgins tears, for whose fair satisfaction,
He broke his Leaden shafts, and vows hereafter
To shoot all flames of love into their servants.
There are some Musick come, to give his godship
Good morrow, so he means to hear one Song,
And then he takes his progress.

Ho.
I attend him.

Exit.
Ch.
But I have made my own revenge upon him,
For the hard-hearted baggage that he sent me;
And Death I have serv'd a trick for all his huffing.
They think not what Artillery they carry
Along with them, I have chang'd their Arrows.
How Death will fret to see his fury cozen'd?
But how will Love look pale, when he shall find
VVhat a Mortality his Arrows make
Among the Lovers? let the God look too't,
I have put it past my care, and not expect
To see them agen, or should I meet with Death,
I shall not fear him now; for Cupid, if
Lovers must onely by his Arrows fall,
I am safe, for ladies I defie you all.
SONG.

The Scene is chang'd into a pleasant Garden, a Fountain in the midst of it, Walks and Arbours, delightfully exprest, in divers places Ladies lamenting over their Lovers slain by Cupid, who is discover'd flying in the air.
Enter a Lover playing upon a Lute, courting his Mistris; they dance.
Enter Nature in a white Robe, a Chaplet of Flowers, a green Mantle fringed with Gold, her Hair loose, they start, and seem troubled at her entrance.
Na.
Flie, fly my Children, love that should preserve,
And warm your hearts, with kind, and active blood,
Is now become your enemy, a murderer.
This Garden that was once your entertainment
With all the beauty of the Spring, is now
By some strange curse upon the Shafts of Cupid,
Design'd to be a Grave; look every where
The noble Lovers on the ground ly bleeding,
By frantick Cupid slain; into whose wounds,
Distracted Virgins pour their tears so fast,
That having dreind their fountains, they present
Their own pale monuments; while I but relate
This story, see, more added to the dead.
Oh flie and save your selves, I am your Parent
Nature, that thus advise you to your safeties.
Enter Cupid, he strikes the Lover.
He's come already.

Lover.
Ha? what Winter creeps
Into my heart?

Na.
He faints, 'tis now too late,
Some kinder God call back the winged Boy,
And give him eyes to look upon his murders.
Nature grows stiff with horrour of this spectacle;
If it be Death to love, what will it be
When Death it self must act his Cruelty?
Enter Death.
And here he comes, what Tragedies are next?

Enter old Men and Women with Crutches.
Na.
Two aged pair, these will be fit for Death,
They can expect but a few minutes more
To wear the heavy burden of their lives,

Death strikes them with his Arrow, they admiring one another, let fall their Crutches, and embrace.
Exit D.
Na.
Astonishment to Nature, they throw off
All their infirmities, as young men do
Their aery upper garments. These were the
Effects of Cupids Shafts; prodigious Change!
I have not patience to behold 'em longer.

Exit.
They Dance, with Antique postures, expressing Rurall Courtship.
SONG.

What will it Death advance thy name
Upon cold Rocks to wast a flame,
Or by mistake to throw
Bright Torches into pits of Snow?
Thy rage is lost,
And thy old killing Frost;
With thy Arrows thou maist trie
To make the young or aged bleed,
But indeed
Not compell one heart to die.

CHORUS.
O Love! oh Death! be it your fate
Before you both repent too late
to meet and trie
Upon your selves, your sad artillerie.
So Death may make Love kind again,
Or Cruell Death by Love be slain.

Enter six Gentlemen armed as in the field to fight three against three; To them Death, he strikes them with his Arrow, aud they preparing to charge, meet one another, and embrace. They Dance.
SONG.

Change , oh change your fatall bows,
Since neither knows
The vertue of each others Darts;
Alas, what will become of hearts
If it prove
A Death to Love,
We shall find
Death will be cruell to be kind:
For when he shall to Armies flie,
Where men think blood too cheap to buy
Themselves a name,
He reconciles them, and deprives
The valiant men of more than lives,
A Victory, and Fame.
Whilst Love deceiv'd by these cold shafts, in steed
Of curing wounded hearts, must kill indeed.

CHORUS.
Take pitty Gods, some ease the world will find,
To give young Cupid eyes, or strike Death blind.
Death should not then have his own will
And Love, by seeing men bleed, leave off to kill.

Enter Chamberlain leading two Apes.
Ch.

Enter Death, he striks the Chamb.
Ch.
Oh, my heart,
'Twas Death I fear, I am paid then with a vengeance;
My dear Apes do not leave me, ha? come neer—
Enter a Satyr, that strikes on the him shoulder, and takes away his Apes.
What's that? a shot i'th' shoulder too? ha.
What will become of me now? oh my Apes!
The Darlings of my heart are ravish'd from me.
He beckons, and courts them back with passionat postures.
No? not yet? nor yet hard-hearted Apes.
I must despair for ever to enjoy them.
Despair? that name puts me in mind,
He looks in his pocket, and pulls out the Halter.
'Tis here;
Welcome dear Legacy, I see he was
A Prophet that bestowed it; how it fits me?
As well as if the Hangman had took measure.
'Tis honour in some men to fight, and dy
In their fair Ladies quarrell, and shall I
Be 'fraid to hang my self in such a cause?
Farewell my pretty Apes, when Hemp is ti'd
Drop tears apace, and I am satisfi'd.

Exit.
A Dance of the Satyre and Apes.
Upon the sudden a solemn Musick is heard, and Mercury seen descending upon a Cloud, at whose approach, the other creep in amazed. In a part of the Scene within a Bower, Nature discover'd sleeping.
Mer.
Hence ye prophane, and take your dwellings up
Within some Cave, that never saw the Sun,
Whose beams grow pale, and sick to look upon you;
This place be sacred to more noble objects.
And see where Nature tir'd with her Complaints
To heaven for Death and Cupid's Tyranny
Upon a bank of smiling Flow'rs lies sleeping.
Cares, that devour the peace of other bosomes,
Have by an overcharge of sorrow wrought
Her heart into a calm, where every sense
Is bound up in a soft repose, and silence;
Be her Dreams all of me. But to my Embassie.

Enter Cupid.
Cap.
I am here,
What send the Gods by Mercury?

Mer.
Thy shame and horrour. I remove
This mist.
He unblinds him.
Now see in every Grove
What slaughter thou hast made, all these
Fond Cupid were thy Votaries,
Does not their blood make thine look pale?
All slain by thee; 'two'not prevail
To urge mistakes, thy fact appears;
Jove, and the Gods have bow'd their ears
To groning Nature, and sent me
From their high Christall Thrones to see
What blood, like a dire Vapour rise',
Doth spread his Wings to blind the eyes
Of Heaven and Day; and to declare
Their Iustice and Immortall care
Over the lower World, but stay
Another must his fate obey.

Enter Death.
De.
I am here

Mer.
Nature awake, and with thy sleep
Shake of the heavy Chains that keep
Thy Soul a captive.

Nat.
Mercury?
Or am I still in Dreams?

Mer.
Thy Eye
Take truce with tears, see much abus'd
Nature, whom thou hast long accus'd,
Leave thy wonder, and attend
What the Gods by Hermes send.
But first I charge you to resign
Your fatall Shafts.

Cup.
I, these are mine.

They change.
Mer.
Cupid, the Gods do banish thee
From every Palace, thou must be
Confin'd to Cottages, to poor
And humble Cells, Love must no more
Appear in Princes Courts, their heart
Impenetrable by thy Dart,
And from softer influence free
By their own wills must guided be.

Cup.
I shall obey.

Mer.
Death, thou maist still
Exercise thy power to kill,
With this limit, that thy rage
Presume not henceforth to engage
On Persons, in whose brest, divine
Marks of art, or honour shine;
Upon these, if thy malice trie,
They may bleed, but never die;
These are not to be overcome,
Above the force of Age or Tomb.
Is Nature pleas'd?

Na.
The Gods are just.

Mer.
To this you both submit?

C.D.
We must.

Mer.
Ye are dismist.

Exeunt.
Nat.
But Mercury,
What satisfaction shall I have
For noble Children in the Grave
By Cupid slain?

Mer.
They cannot be
Reduc'd to live again with thee,
And could thy fancy entertain
In what blest seats they now remain,
Thou wouldst not wish them here.

Na.
Might I
With some knowledge bless my eye,
Nature would put on Youth.

Mer.
Then see
Their blest condition.

The Scene is changed into Elizium, where the grand Masquers, the slain Lovers appear in glorious Seats, and Habits.
Na.
Where am I?
The World no such Perfection yields.

Mer.
These are the fair Elizian fields.

SONG.

Open blest Elizium Grove,
Where an eternall Spring of Love
Keeps each Beauty fair, these shades
No chill Dew or Frost invades;
Look how the Flowers, and every Tree
Pregnant with Ambrosia be;
Neer banks of Violet Springs appear,
Weeping out Nectar every tear;
While the once-harmonious Spheares,
(turn'd all to ears)
Now listen to the Birds, whose Quire
Sing every charming Accent higher.

CHORUS.
If this place be not Heaven, one thought can make it,
And Gods by their own wonder lead, mistake it.

Na.
Oh, who shall guide me hence? old Natures sight
Grows feeble at the brightness of this glory.

Mer.
I will be Natures conduct.

Na.
Mercury—be ever honour'd.

Exeunt.
The Grand Dance.
Enter Mercury.
Mer.
Return, return you happy men,
To your own blessed Shades agen,
Lest staying long, some new desire
In your calm bosomes raise a fire;
Here are some Eyes, whose every beam
May your wandring hearts inflame,
And make you forfeit your cool Groves,
By being false to your first Loves.
Like a Perfuming gale o'r Flowers,
Now glide again to your own Bowers.

The Masquers retreated, the Curtain falls.