University of Virginia Library

[THE FIRSTE SCENE.]

The Description of THE FIRSTE SCENE.

On one side the hall towardes the lower end was discovered a cliffe of the sea done over in parte white accordinge to that of Virgill, lib. 5.
Jamque adeo scopulos Syrenum advecta subibat
Difficiles quondam multorumque ossibus albos.
Upon yt were seated two Syrens as they are described by Hyginus & Servius wt h their upper parts like woemen to the navell and the rest like a hen. One of theese at the firste discouery of the scene (a sea being done in perspective on one side the cliffe) began to singe this songe, beinge as lasciuious perper to them & beginninge as that of theirs in Hom. lib. μ. Οδ. Δευρ' αγ ιων παλυαιν Οδυσευ μεγα κυδος Αχαιων.

Steere hither, steere, your winged pines,
All beaten mariners,
Here lye Loves undiscovred mynes,
A prey to passengers;
Perfumes farre sweeter than the best
Which make ye Phœnix urne and nest.
Fear not your ships,
Nor any to oppose you save our lips,
But come on shore,
Where no joy dyes till love hath gotten more.

The last two lines were repeated as from a groue nere by a full Chorus, & ye Syren about to sing againe, Triton (in all parts as Apollonius, lib. 4. Argonautis. shewes him) was seene interruptinge her thus:
Triton.
Leaue, leaue, alluring Syren, wt h thy song
To hasten wt ye Fates would faine p̄long:
Your sweetest tunes but grones of Mandrakes be;
He his owne traytore is yt heareth thee.
Tethys commaunds, nor is it fit yt you
Should ever glory you did him subdue
By wyles whose pollicyes were never spread
'Till Flaming Troy gave light to haue ym read.
Ulysses now furrowes ye liquid plaine
Doubtfull of seeing Ithaca againe,
For in his way more stops are thrust by time,
Then in ye path where vertue comes to climbe:
She yt wt h silver springs for ever fills
The shady groues, sweet meddowes, and ye hills,
From whose continuall store such pooles are fed
As in ye land for seas are famosed.
'Tis she whose favoe to this Grecian tends
And to remove his ruine Triton sends.

Syren.
But 'tis not Tethys, nor a greater powre,
Cynthia, that rules the waues; scearce he (each howre)
That weilds the thunderboltes, can thinges begun
By mighty Circe (daughter to the Sun)
Checke or controule; she yt by charmes can make
The scalled fish to leaue the brinye lake,
And on the seas walke as on land she were;
She that can pull ye pale moone from her spheare,
And at mid-day the worlds all glorious eye
Muffle wt h cloudes in longe obscuritie;
She that can cold December set on fire,
And from the graue bodyes wt h life inspire;
She that can cleaue the center, & wt h ease
A prospect make to our Antipodes;
Whose mystique spelles haue fearfull thunders made,
And forc't braue riuers to run retrograde.
She wt hout stormes that sturdy oakes can tare
And turne their rootes where late their curl'd toppes were.
She that can wt h the winter solstice bringe
All Flora's daintyes, Circe: bids me singe;
And till some greater hand her power can staye,
Who'ere commaunde, I none but her obaye.

Triton.
Then Nereus daughter thus you'le haue me telle.

Syren.
You maye.

Triton.
Thinke on her wrath.

Siren.
I shall. Triton! farewelle.

Siren.
Vaine was thy message, vaine her haste, for I
Muste tune againe my wanton Melodye.
Here she went on wt h her SONGE thus:
For swellinge waues, our panting brestes
Where neuer stormes arise
Exchange; and be awhile our guestes:
For starres gaze on our eyes.
The compasse loue shall hourely singe,
And as he goes aboute the ringe,
We will not misse
To telle each pointe he nameth wt h a kisse.

CHORUS.
Then come on shore,
Where no ioye dyes till loue hath gotten more.

At ye end of this songe Circe was seene upon the rocke, quaintly attyr'd, her haire loose about her shoulders, an Anadem of flowers on her head, wt h a wand in her hand, & then makinge towardes the Syrens, cald them thence wt h this speech:
Sirens, ynouk; cease; Circe hath prevayld,
The Greeks wc h on ye dauncinge billowes sayld,
About whose shippes a hundred Dolphins clunge
Wrapt wt h the musicke of Ulysses tongue
Haue wt h their guide by powrfull Circes hand
Cast their hookd anchors on Æœa's strand.
Yonde standes a hille crown'd wt h high wauinge trees
Whose gallant toppes each neighb'ringe countrye sees,
Under whose shade an hundred Syluans playe,
Wt h Gaudy Nymphes farre fairer then ye daye;
Where euerlastinge Springe wt h silver showres,
Sweet roses doth encrease to grace our bowres;
Where lauish Fflora prodigall in pride
Spendes what might well enrich all earth beside,
And to adorne this place shee loues so deare,
Stays in some clymats scearcely halfe ye yeare.
When would shee to the world indifferent bee,
They should continuall Aprill haue as wee.
Midway ye wood and from ye leueld lands
A spatious yet a curious arbor standes,
Wherein should Phœbus once to pry beginne,
I would benight him 'ere he gette his inne,
Or turne his steedes awrye, so drawe him on
To burne all landes but this like Phaeton.
Ulysses neare his mates by my stronge charmes
Lyes there till my returne in sleepes soft armes:
Then, Syrens, quickly wend we to the bowre
To fitte their well-come, & shew Circes powre.

Siren.
What all the elements doe owe to thee
In their obedience is perform'd in mee.

Circe.
Circe drinkes not of Lethe: then awaye
To helpe ye Nymphes who now begin their laye.