University of Virginia Library

Scen. 1.

Poneria, Agnostus.
Ag.
Is the worlds eye not yet asleepe?

Po.
Hath Iove not yet put on his starry night-cap?
No; nor Iuno her spangl'd smockel?

Ag.
What, hath Hesperus forgot to light heavens tapers up?
Or be the Charret wheeles of Night o're loaden with the leaden waights of sleepe,
That she delayes to throw her misty veyle upon the face of things?

Po.
Blind Ignorance that grop'st in Cymerian darknesse,
That lyest invelop'd in the shads of everlasting night,
That want'st those glorious spectacles of Nature,
Those Chrystalline spheres that should illumine
Thy Microcosmus,
Why dost thou thus maligne the guiltlesse light,
She being the fairest Creature that Nature ever made?

Ag.
I hate her because she is light: I say she is
The Mistris of disquiet and unrest, and breeds
More troubles in the world then one of my young
Hungry Lawyers doth in a Common-wealth,
Or a schismatical selfe conceited Coxcombe in an antient Corporation.
Oh that I could Vlysses-like burne out the eye
Of that Celestiall Polypheme;
Or raise dull Chaos from Demogorgons Cell
To quench the worlds unnecessary luminaries.

Po.
Bold Ignorance, thou Idoll of these times
That o're a woollen wit, oft wear'st a sattin Cap;
And sometimes at our Bacchanalian feasts
Appear'st as brave as a Canonicall Saint
In a Kalender: I hug thy resolution, stupid divell,
That dost with generous malice amply supply
What is defective in thy intellect:
But if thou'lt give my faithfull Counsell leave
For to divert the torrent of thy wrath,
Then lend a facile eare to my advice:
Bend not thy bootlesse hate against that Orbe of light,
Whose mighty flames will scorch the impious wings
Of those Nocturnall birds, that shall attempt
With talons most prophane, to injure his bright beauty.
A meaner object than this, shall satisfie
Thy wrath, and my displeasure.
This is the day whereon the new society of
Florists, have determined to keepe their annual festivals:
Whose pompous Celebration hath wont to eclipse
All feasts besides: th'Olympian games,
And Isthmian playes, with all those Ludicrous
And Ludibrious Combats, are but meere Puppet playes
To this grand feast, for Art and nature both have try'd
To make this Feast surpasse all feasts beside.
Vnite thy force with mine, then ten to one
We shall disturbe their mirth, e're we have done.

Ag.
Then mischiefe lend me all thy guilty nerves:
Let flames of boundlesse fury quite dispell
Lethæan dulnesse from my Clouded braine.
Assist our great designe, ye subterraneous powers,
That utterly abhorre to view the glaring light:
Let not the weakenesse of my Craz'd intellectuals,
Nor yet this loath'd deficience of my sense,
Be prejudiciall to the bent of our designe:
Poneria, act thy part, for I am thine.

Exeunt.