University of Virginia Library

Actvs V.

Scen. I.

Roscius. Flowrdew. Bird.
Flow.
Now verily I find the devout Bee
May suck the hony of good Doctrine thence,
And beare it to the hive of her pure family,
Whence the prophane and irreligious spider
Gathers her impious Venome! I have pick'd
Out of the Garden of this Play, a good
And wholesome salad of instruction!
What doe you next present?

Rosci.
The severall Vertues.

Bird.
I hope there be no Cardinall Vertues there!

Rosci.
There be not.

Bird.
Then I'le stay; I hate a Vertue
That will be made a Cardinall: Cardinall vertues,
Next to Pope-vertues, are most impious;
And Bishop-vertues are unwarrantable:
I will allow of none but Deacon-vertues,
Or Elder-vertues.

Rosci.
These are Morall vertues.

Bird.
Are they Lay-vertues?

Rosci.
Yes!

Bird,
Then they are lawfull,
Vertues in Orders are unsanctified.

Rosci.
We doe present them royall, as they are
In all their state, in a full dance.

Bird.
What dance?
No wanton Iig I hope, no dance is lawfull
But Prinkam Prankam!

Flow.
Will Vertues dance?
I hate a Vertue in a Morrice-dance!
O vile, absurd, may pole—maid-marrian vertue!

Rosci.
Dancing is lawfull.

Flourish.
Enter Mediocritie.
Flow.
Who's this?

Rosc.
It is the mother of the Vertues.

Flow.
Mother of Pearle I thinke, she is so gawdy

Rosci.
It is the golden Mediocritie.

Flow.
She looketh like the Idoll of Cheap-side.

Mediocritie.
Med.
I am that even course that must be kept
To shunne two dangerous gulfes; the middle tract
'Twixt Scylla and Charibdis; the small Isthmus
That suffers not the' Ægean tide to meet
The violent rage of the Ionian wave.
I am a bridge o're an Impetuous sea;
Free, and safe passage to the wary step!
But he whose wantonnesse, or folly dares
Decline to either side, falls desperate
Into a certaine ruine.—Dwell with me,
Whose mansion is not plac'd so neare the Sunne,
As to complaine of's neighbourhood, and be scorch'd
With his directer beames: nor so remote
From his bright rayes as to be situate
Vnder the Icy Pole of the cold Beare;
But in a temperate zone: 'tis I am she,
I am the golden Mediocritie:
The labour of whose wombe are all the vertues,
And every passion too commendable:
Sisters so like themselves, as if they were
All but one birth; no difference to distinguish them
But a respect they beare to severall objects:
Else had their names beene one as are their features.
So when eleven faire Virgins of a blood
All Sisters, and alike growne ripe of yeares,
Match into severall houses, from each family,
Each takes a name distinct, and all are different'd!
They are not of complexion red or pale,
But a sweet mixture of the flesh and blood,
As if both roses were confounded there.
Their stature neither Dwarfe nor Gyantish,
But in a comely well dispos'd proportion!
And all so like their mother, that indeed
They are all mine, and I am each of them.
When in the midst of dangers I stand up
A wary confidence betwixt feare and daring,
Not so ungodly bold as not to be
Fearefull of heav'ns just anger when she speaks
In prodigies, and tremble at the hazard
Of my Religion, shake to see my Country
Threatned with fire and sword, be a stark coward
To any thing may blast my reputation:
But I can scorne the worst of poverty,
Sicknesse, Captivity, Banishment, Grim death,
If she dare meete me in the bed of honour;
Where, with my Countries cause upon my sword
Not edg'd with hope or anger, nor made bold
With civill blood, or customary danger;
Nor the fooles whetstone, Inexperience;
I can throw valour as a lightning from me,
And then I am the Amazon fortitude!
Give me the moderate cup of lawfull pleasures,
And I am Temperance. Take me wealths just steward,
And call me Liberality; with one hand
I'le gather riches home, and with the other
Rightly distribute 'em, and there observe
The persons, quantity, quality, time and place:
And if in great expences I be set
Chiefe Arbitresse, I can in glorious workes,
As raising Temples, Statues, Altars, shrines
Vestures, and ornaments to Religion, be
Neither too thrifty nor too prodigall.
And to my country the like meane observe,
In building Ships, and Bulwarkes, Castles, walls
Conducts, Theaters, and what else may serve her
For use or ornament: And at home be royall
In Buildings, Gardens, costly furniture,
In entertainments free and hospitable,
With a respect to my estate, and meanes,
And then I may be nam'd Magnificence;
As Magnanimity, when I wisely aime
At greatest honours, if I may deserve'm,
Not for ambition, but for my Countryes good,
And in that vertue all the rest doe dwell.
In lesser dignities I want a name;
And when I am not over patient,
To put up such grosse wrongs as call me coward,
But can be angry, yet in that observe
What cause hath mov'd my anger, and with whom,
Looke that it be not suddaine, nor too thirsty
Of a revenge, nor violent, nor greater
Then the offence, know my time when, where
I must be angry, and how long remaine so;
Then then you may surname me Mansuetude.
When in my carriage and discourse I keepe
The meane that neither flatters nor offends,
I am that vertue the well nurtur'd Court
Gives name, and should doe being—Courtesy.
Twixt sly dissembling and proud arrogance
I am the vertue time calls daughter, Truth.
Give me my sword and ballance rightly swayd,
And Iustice is the Title I deserve.
When on this stage I come with innocent wit,
And jests that have more of the salt then gall,
That move the laughter and delight of all,
Without the griefe of one, free, chast conceits,
Not scurrile, base, obscene, illiberall
Or contumelious slanders, I am then
The vertue they have term'd, Vrbanity:
To whom if your least countenance may appeare.
She vowes to make her constant dwelling here.
My daughters now are come—

The Song—

Scen. 2.

The Masque, wherein all the Vertues dance together.
Medio.
You have seene all my daughters, Gentlemen,
Chuse you wives hence; you that are Batchelors
Can finde no better; And the married too
May wed 'em, yet not wrong their former wives.
Two may have the same wife, and the same man
May wed two Vertues, yet no Bigamie:
He that weds most is chastest; These are all
The daughters of my wombe; I have five more,
The happy Issue of my Intellect,
And thence syrnam'd the intellectuall Vertues.
They now attend not on their Mothers train,
We hope they Act in each spectators braine!
I have a Neece besides, a beauteous one
My daughters deare companion—louely Friendship
A royall Nymph; her we present not to,
It is a vertue we expect from you.

Exit cum Choro contantium.

Scen. 3.

Bird.
O Sister what a glorious traine they be!
Flow They seeme to mee the Family of Love,
But is there such a Glasse, good Roscius?

Rosci.
There is! sent hither by the great Apollo,
Who in the worlds bright eye and every day
Set in his Car of light, survaies the earth
From East to West: who finding every place
Fruitfull in nothing but fantastique follies,
And most ridiculous humors, as he is
The God of Physique, thought it appertain'd
To him to finde a cure to purge the earth
Of ignorance and sinne, two grand diseases,
And now grown Epidemicall: many Receits
He thought upon, as to have planted Hellebore
In every Garden—But none pleas'd like this.
He takes out water from the Muses spring,
And sends it to the North, there to be freez'd
Into a Christall—That being done, he makes,
A Mirror with it: and instills this vertue,
That it should by reflection shew each man
All his deformities both of soule and body.
And cure 'em both—

Flow.
Good Brother lets goe see it!
Saints may want something of perfection.

Rosc.
The Glasse is but of one daies continuance,
For Pluto, thinking if it should cure all,
His Kingdome would grow empty, (for 'tis sin
That Peoples hell) went to the fates and bid 'em
Spin it too short a thred: (for every thing
As well as man is measur'd by their spindle.)
They, as they must obey, gave it a thread
No longer then the Beast's of Hyppanis
That in one day is spun, drawne out, and cut.
But Phœbus to requite the black Gods envy,
Will when the Glasse is broke transfuse her vertue
To live in Comedy—If you meane to see it
Make hast—

Flow.
We will goe post to reformation.

Exeunt.
Ros.
Nor is the Glasse of so short life I feare
As this poore labour—our distrustfull Author
Thinkes the same Sun that rose upon her cradle
Will hardly set before her funerall:
Your gratious and kind acceptance may
Keepe her alive from death, or when shees dead
Raise her again, and spin her a new thread.

Scen. 4.

Enter Flowrdew and Bird.
Flow.
This ignorance even makes religion sin,
Sets zeale upon the rack, and stretches her
Beyond her length—Most blessed Looking-glasse
That didst instruct my blinded eyes to day,
I might have gone to hell the Narrow-way!

Bird.
Hereafter I will visit Comedies,
And see them oft, they are good exercises!—
I'le teach devotion now a milder temper,
Not that it shall loose any of her heat
Or Purity, but henceforth shall be such
As shall burne bright although not blaze so much.

Exeunt.