University of Virginia Library

Enter Iô, Daphne, with other Nymphs called Naiades, the Daughters of the Rivers neere adjacent.
Io.
Here, Daphne, by your father Peneus streams
(which falling from the top of Pindus mount,
Waters Hemonian Tempe) let us sit,
All daughters to the Rivers flowing neere:
There old Apidanus steales (murmuring) by;
Next, Poplar-shadowed Enipeus glides:
Not far, Amphrisus, Æas, and 'mongst these,
(Not least) my father, good old Inachus
Lifts up his reverend head, with fresh floures crown'd,
Prescribing lawes and limits to his streams,
To bound them in their channels, curb their torrent,
Lest in their pride they should o'reswell their banks;
Commanding them, through thousand strange indents
To pay his plenteous tribute to the seas.

Daphne.
And how much are we bound vnto the gods,
(Faire Io) to be Nymphs, not generated
From marish Meares, nor yet from standing Lakes,
From sedgy brooks, thick pooles, or shallow foords,
Nor yet from violent and robustuous seas.
Their waters keep a smooth and gentle course,
Not mov'd to fury by the warring windes;
Nor when loud fluxes fall to swell their bounds,
And make deep inundations on the meads:
Nor can the parching drought so dry their springs,
But that their channels keep a temperature:
Their modest shallowes serve us for coole baths
In summer time to play and wanton in:
Their depths, to bate our hookes with wormes and flies,
Fastned to lines made of small twisted silke,
And so betray the creatures of the floud.
Their chrystall waves are Myrrhors, in the which
We dresse our heads, and put these curles in forme,
Sometimes so cunningly, as if that Art
Had power to exceed Nature: and againe,
With carelesse, but so curious a neglect,
As if meere Chance did antecede them both.
This makes us of the Satyrs so admir'd,
And of the Faunes and Swaines so much belov'd.

Io.
Why, have you Sutors, Daphne?

Daphne.
Besides such,
(For these my father, by whose will I am swayd)
Accounts as mean) of Gallants I have change;
Both City and the Court.

Io.
But I may claim
Prioritie above all water Nymphs,
Nor can the Naiades compare with me;
No, Daphne, not your selfe. The rurall Swaines,
They gather from these banks mellifluous floures,
And make you chaplets to adorn your browes,
And shadow your choice beauty from the Sun,
Nay thinke them costly Presents: but I'am one
To whom the gods themselves have offred gifts.
Then before all the daughters of these flouds
I claim a just precedence.

Daph.
By what dream,
Or rather by what brain-sicke fantasie
Hath Io been deluded?

Io.
My apprehensions
Are no weake fantoms to beguile the sence,
But reall, and in action; with their form
They beare a being substance.

Daph.
Hath your Beauty
Had amongst men such long and strange neglect,
That Io would to colour such disgrace,
Accuse the gods of weaknesse?

Io.
Let earths Beauties
Censure of Earth, meere terren as yours be,
And aime no further: the while this of myne
Shall be new question'd by the Powers Divine.

Daph.
Now by what gods, for Heav'ns sake?

Io.
Not the meanest,
Or such as we call under-deities,
As melancholy Saturn, (by his son
Exil'd and banisht from the supreme rule)
As Phœbus, a meere Vassal to the earth,
And forc'd each naturall day to measure heaven;
As Neptune, Soveraign o're the Seas, to whom
Our tributary rivers hourely pay:
As Mercury, though son to Iove himselfe,
No better than his Foot-boy or his Page,
Compeld at every summons to his speed:
But of the potent Thunderer.

Daph.
He of whom
You have learn'd to thunder these impossible braves.
Io, I am asham'd.

Io.
Yes, that your beauty's
Composed of the grosser elements,
Want that attraction to call Iove himselfe
Downe from his heavenly Fabrick, to behold
Vs in our eminence.

Daph.
Strange wonder sure,
To looke vpon that face in which we Mortals,
And value it at best, can nothing spy,
Breed admiration in a Deity!

A noise of thunder. Enter Iupiter in his glory, his Trisull in his hand burning; at sight of whom they stand afrighted.
Io.
Appeare, Iove, in thy glory, let them know
Ei, sham'd confesse their fond surmises vain,
And what it is, thy god-head to prophane.

Daph.
Fly, fly, lest we be thunder-strooke, away;
Let's seeke our safety, danger's in our stay.

Exit.
Iup.
Thou Daphne, who Ioves presence now dost shun,
Swifter ere long shalt from Apollo run.
But there lie that which makes us terrible,
Affrighting gods and men. Io to thee
In calmes I come, and Faire one make me proud,
To seale the love which I so long have vow'd.

Io.
What steale? what vow?

Iup.
Both thou shalt finde imprest
On thy smooth cheeke, soft lip, and Ivory brest.

Io.
Forbeare to handle; yet I never knew
A man so bold and rude: Can gods dispence,
To teach us Women unknowne impudence?

Iup.
Nay rather we solicit you to prove
What yet you have not try'de, the sweets of love.

Io.
Things that I would not learn.

Iup.
A Truant still?
If you want art, Io, I can teach you skill:
Give me your hand, your lip: why these but are
The Prologue to a pastime much more rare.
Women by nature are ambitious, and
Long to know what they do not understand.
I'le practise you in that which you before
Ne're knew.

Io.
In all this lip-sport? or what more
Is in these kisses meant? I am so dull,—

Iup.
All these my Comment shall explain at full.
In vain you strive.

Io.
Should I do ought save well,
I were vndone, my fathers flouds would tell;
These are his banks, they'l blab: What mean you? fie;
They swell above their bounds, only to spie
And see what we are doing. Pish, away,
Such deeds of darknesse can you do by day?
Besides, shall I consent to what you mean,
Not all these silver drops can wash me clean.

Iup.
Where I doe stain I can again make pure:
And that Day shall not hinder us, be sure:
Arise you fogs and damps, your vapors gather,
To shroud us both from Iuno and thy father.

Io.
You make me blush.

A great damp ariseth.
Iup.
These blushes none shall see;
Behold these mists, to curtain us and thee.

Io.
Well, when what most you sue for, you have won,
My comfort is, I see not what is done.

Iup.
And Io now I'le teach thee sports untry'de,
In darknesse best a Virgins blush to hide.

Exeunt
Enter Iuno.
Iuno.
Not in the heav'ns? where then? In vain it were
To search the seas; the blew-vein'd Nereæ,
And green hair'd Dorides with all their brats,
Styl'd by the names of water goddesses,
(Though Prostitutes to Neptune) 'mongst them all
Yeeld not a face to please his curious eye.
Where then? The earth? I that, if any place,
Yeelds choice of tempting Beauties: Argos bred
A golden Danaë, Thebes afforded an
Alcmena and wanton Semele;
Pelagia, a Calisto; Sparta nurst
A swan-like Læda, (Strumpets) of all which
I sought a sure, but found a vain revenge.
Why may not then Thessalian Tempe yeeld
Like fascination, since their impudence
Is more and more encourag'd by my wrongs:
Here then I make inquiry. The day's cleare;
Whence come these foggy mysts that choke the aire,
In so serene and bright an hemisphere?
Aut ego faller, aut ego ledar.
If from the earth, this sudden overcast
Would smell of thicke and suffocating damps:
If from the aire, or any sulph'rous fire,
It would be found by their caliditie.
If from the Rivers, or these moorish fennes,
Humiditie would tell vs whence they were.
No, these are forc'd, and by some god-like power,
Created for a more peculiaruse:
And now my jealousie most truly prompts me,
'Tis some illusion, made to blinde myne eies
From a new injury; which if I finde,
On this one Strumpet I will study more,
Than all that have my vengeance scap'd before.

Exit.
Enter Iupiter, and Io transformed into a Cow.
Iup.
The clamorous Queen's descended from the Spheres,
To finde the cause of this illusive Fog:
But Io I have so transhap'd thee now,
That she by no means can discover thee;
And in that confidence I'le front her boldly.

Iun.
Iove heare? my jelousies are then not vain,
Howe're I'le give him gentle entertaine,
Concealing what's within.

Iup.
My lovely Iuno?

Iun.
My Brother and my Husband Iupiter?

Iup.
What make you here on earth?

Iun.
What other reason,
But that I mist my soveraign Lord in heaven;
And then I yoakt my Peacocks, to their bills
Ty'd silken bridles, and in my light chariot
Made of fine gold, and deckt with Estrich plumes,
Descended as you see. But what affaire
(Might Iuno be so bold to aske her Lord)
Detaines you now in Tempe?

Iup.
Though it fits not
Your Sex to aske a thing that ill beseemes,
Or pry into the counsels of the gods;
Yet thus much I'le resolve you? I came downe
To censure here some causes amongst men,
And set things crooked upright.

Iun.
Now I spy
That which hath drawne him headlong from the sky,
And I will make th' Adulterer himselfe
Author of my iust vengeance.

Iup.
Thou once gon,
Spoken aside.
She were again transhap'd, and we both one.
Sweet Iuno will you once more mount your Chariot,
And keep your state above. My designes ended,
I will not long be from you.

Iun.
My craft now
Shall match his cunning; if there be in me
A godhead, I have cast her destiny.
Deare loving Lord, since 'twas my kindenesse drew me
To see vnto your safety (though I know
The Deities in every place secure)
Give me some gift on earth, that I in heaven
May applaud your royall bounty.

Iup.
Be it bred
Beneath the Moon, 'tis my Saturnia's.

Iun.
I have not seen so sweet and lovely a Beast
White without spot or stain; Is she of the herd
Belonging to these Medowes?

Iup.
She is, no doubt.
Why doth my Iuno aske?

Iun.
To make her myne.

Iup.
A gift too small for Iuno to entreat,
Or Iove to grant; Demand some greater boon.

Iun.
This Cow or nothing.

Iup.
Shee's not for thy use;
What would my Love do with her?

Iun.
Only this,
(Being above the rest most beautifull)
To sacrifice her to your Deity.

(Iupiter starts.)
Iup.
Not for the triple world: What was it, Sweet,
That you of me demanded?

Iuno.
Now to know
(Aside)
What put you in this feare? Nay I have beg'd,
And must not be deny'd. And have I found you?

Iup.
In what a streight am I? her to betray,
And give her up into her enemies hand,
In man would prove a savage cruelty,
Much more in us: and to deny a gift
Appearing of so small a consequence,
Would but augment her too much jelousie,
And open that which is as yet conceal'd.

Iuno.
What hope have I to enioy greater things,
That am deny'd a trifle?

Iup.
Say I will not,
(Aside)
And give no reason; it may then appeare,
This Heifer to be no such as she seems.
Well, she is yours; but how will you dispose her?

Iun.
So carefully, because she is your gift,
My seruant Argus with a hundred eyes
Shall guard her from all dangers.

Iup.
'Tis enough,
In that, to us you shall expresse your love.
But prove he to her churlish or vnkinde,
(Aside.
There's one, at once his hundred eies shall blind.
So, she is now your charge.

Exit.
Iun.
And being myne,
I'le teach base Earth to injure what's divine.
Where is my seruant Argus?

Enter Argus with a hundred eyes.
Argus.
Who's that calls?
The sacred goddesse Iuno? What new service
Will you command your vassal?

Iun.
Tak't in briefe;
Beholdst thou This? This? This no matter what,
Not worth a name; only a thing I loath;
Out on thee: But I'le spare my railing words,
To expresse my hate in action.

Arg.
What's the cause
The poore beast trembles thus?

Iun.
A Beast indeed:
Like such she shall be us'd; behold her, Argus;
Are these lips fitting for a god to kisse?
These hoofes apt palms to gripe? these teats fit pillowes?
On which a Deity should brest himselfe?
These, eyes to tempt? or this an hide to touch?
These hornes? (ô me) in myne owne heraldry
She mocks me without blushing.

Argus.
In all this
How will you use my service?

Iuno.
As a Spy:
An hundred eyes thou hast, of all which number
I will allow thee two to sleep by turnes;
The rest to watch this Strumpet; and of all,
But two to winke, the rest to gaze at full:
Behinde thee thou hast eyes, both sides, before;
Which way soe're thou turnst shee's in thy view.
“A thousand he had need, all piercing bright,
“To watch a Lover from his choice delight.

Arg.
And is this all?

Iuno.
Something I had forgot:
Thou art an Herdsman, Argus, and thou know'st
To tame vnruly cattell; she is such:
In some unworthy halter binde her neck,
For such a Beauty the first Carkanet.
Her browsing be the Brakes and bitter couche,
For dainties feed her with the sourest herbs;
Lead her through briers & brambles, which may scratch
Her itching skin even till her soft sides bleed,
Raise vp the mud in cleare springs when she drinks,
Keep her from shadow, in the parching Sun,
Till she be stung with horse flies, and the brees:
Let her not rest but where the ground's still bare;
Feather her bed with thistles and sharp thornes;
And for her footing chuse the barren paths
Strow'd with loose pointed flints to gall her hoofes.
Argus farewell, I leave her to thy trust,
A sweet reuenge for her insatiate lust.

Exit.
Argus.
Drawing this piece of Beasts flesh thus along,
Me-thinks I looke like Lybian Hercules
Leading the Dog of hell: nay I shall fit her
According to my charge, and I will keep thee
(Calfe with the white face) safe enough from bulling,
The longest day that I haue eye to see.
What do you hang an arse? Ptrow, come along,
I'le leade you to bare feeding, and finde sallets
To take downe your full flanks and these plump cheeks.
Along, I'le watch thee well en ough from shrinking
Necke out of collar. Nay, on; thou shalt finde,
Though my face from thee, I have eyes behinde.

Exit.
Enter Inachus the father of Io, Peneus, Appidanus, Amphrisus, (all Riuers) Daphne, and the other Nymphs, &c.
Inachus.
Speake not to me of comfort, Io's lost!
Had she miscarried on the earth, her body
Would have given instance of her timelesse fate:
Or had she been by savage beasts devour'd,
Her garments stain'd with bloud would tell her death.
Had she in myne or these my neighbour floods
Perisht, they would have borne her gently vp,
And cast her on some banke for buriall.

Peneus.
Deare Inachus do not torment your selfe,
Nothing so lost, but may be found at length:
For hauing seen no token of her death,
There's of her life some hope.

Amphr.
Behold, Amphrisus
With this your antient neighbour Appidan,
Peneus and others, as we moane your losse,
So in our pitty come to comfort you.

Appid.
O, brackish not your waters with your teares,
That yet run pure and fresh; but be of comfort.

Inach.
In vain you speake of what you cannot give,
As I in vaine lament myne Io's losse.

Enter Argus leading in Io.
Arg.
How now, curst Cow? What, start you at that name?
I'le make your long hornes shorter.

Inac.
Io, where?
If under earth, I'le send my springs in search
As low as to the Centre. Io, where?
If snatcht vp in the aire, like dew exhal'd,
With eyes fixt vpward I will still thus gaze,
Till from the bosome of some gentle cloud,
Thou drop into myne armes. Faire Io, where?

Arg.
I thinke the beast hath breezes in her taile,
She cannot keepe her still.

Inach.
But stay, what's hee
That leads the fairest Heifer tether'd fast,
That e're drunke of my streames; for Io's sake
I loue all creatures that are beautifull.

Arg.
How now you Harlatry?

Inach.
Thou churlish heardsman,
I know thee, Argus, jealous Iuno's Spy,
Why canst thou be so fierce to one so faire?

Arg.
What's that to thee, or any of you all.

Pen.
Amongst all creatures Nature ever made,
Some to have native beauty 'bove the rest,
Commanding soft affection, this is such.

Arg.
With all myne eyes I spy no difference,
But love all beasts as beasts.

Inach.
The more beast thou.

Pen.
But why should this, the fairest of all heards,
Cast such a pitteous moving eye on you,
As wooing your acquaintance?

Inach.
And 'tis true,
Where ere I go, her sad eye followes me,
So she too, did not Argus keepe her backe:
See, see, how gently she endures my touch,
And makes an offer (had shee power) to speake.
Heare, take these floures, and now she kist myne hand,
Whilest pitteous teares drop down her tender cheeks.
What should I say? poore beast I pitty thee,
And all the good I can do is to grieve,
Th' hast such a churlish Keeper.

Pen.
Inachus, I feare
There's something greater in't.

Inach.
What greater can be,
Vnlesse there live some vnderstanding spirit
In this irrationall and savage shape:
What wouldst thou have, that in this bestiall figure
Beg'st humane pitty? what intends she, thinke you,
By pawing on the ground? Observe her, brethren,
It seemes she hath writ somthing in the dust,
And see, two letters are imprinted faire,
As if it were my Io's Character, And here I reade Io.

Pen.
Io: and see, in every step she hath trod,
That word imprest.

Inach.
This she? whom I so long in vain have sought,
Through forrests, groves, and mountains, fields & floods?
This she, whom I in finding shall most lose?
O miserable wretched Inachus,
More miserable Io, thus transform'd:
I terme thee lovely, till I knew thee such;
But when thy former beauty I record,
Thou ougly art, mishap'd, and terrible.
Can the gods suffer this?

Arg.
Leave this your howling.
Forbeare, or in this cord I leade her forth,
Ile strangle her. Dare not to follow me,
There's danger in me both waies; she shall perish,
And you must bleed. Come, Minion we will clime
Yon craggy mountain top, a prospect fit
For Argus only, who (not moving) can
Behold at once from whence the foure winds blow,
And there with her I'le like a Beacon stand,
To watch and to give warning. Will you drive?
I say pursue me not, for if you do,
Ile make her sure, and you repent it too.
Why ptrow there.

(Exeunt Argus and Io.
Amph.
With what a pitteous action, wailing tongue,
She gave a loving, but a loath farewell.

Apid.
But that the high Powers are not limitable,
Who would beleeve this wonder possible.

Pen.
We must not question what the gods can do,
Yet in th' extremitie of all extremes,
And worst of bads, despaire not, Inachus.

Inach.
How easie 'tis for those that tast not griefe,
Bid others be of comfort.

Amph.
Reverend Sir,—

Inach.
There is no reverence due: not to the gods,
If this be seen and suffer'd: O my Io.
With acclamations I will fill the Meades:
In stead of prayers, Ile execrate and curse,
And to the burthen of myne untun'd shreeks
The rocks and caves shall echo to thy name.

Pen.
But Inachus.—

Inach.
But when your Chanels swell,
You can have dammes and sluces to discharge
Superfluous waters, lest your torrents rage;
And will you bar the conduits of myne eies
To ease the flux of my surcharged heart?
My care was, Io, to provide a man
To be thine husband; but I now must finde
One of the bellowing heard to cal me sonne:
To have some pretty infant draw thy brest,
But now must some py'de urchin sucke thy teats.
But that I am immortall, and the dores
And gate to death against me are debar'd,
I'de weepe my selfe to nothing, and this Beeing
Scatter amongst my flouds, that mixt with them,
They might (in lesse than drops) amongst their waves,
Convey me to the all-devouring seas,
To mix my brine with his, and be so lost;
And lost, forgotten: But I am still the same,
And Io, I'le still call vpon thy name.

Exeunt.
Enter Iupiter and Mercury.
Iupit.
How am I mov'd with Inachus exclaimes?
Why are the eares of gods kept open still,
But first to heare, then pitty? hast thou not, Mercury,
Seene Io's teares? Perceiv'd her scalding sighs,
And even thus far heard her suspires and grones,
Tortur'd beneath that Neatherd churlish groome,
More savage than the beasts he feeds?

Merc.
I have.

Iup.
How oft hath she, thinking to heave her hands
For divine pitty; when she spy'de her hoofes
Cast them to th' earth, with them her head with shame,
And bellowing when she would complain her griefe,
Started at her owne sound?
How oft, when grazing on her fathers banks,
(These fruitfull banks on which she vs'd to sport)
Offring to drinke, when in his Crystall streams,
In which so often she with pride hath lookt,
On her white brow, red cheeke, and golden curles:
Now when she spies those lips a god hath kist,
Stretcht to so vast a widenesse, penthous'd o're
With inlarg'd nosthrils; looking on those eyes,
(In which 'twas once my sole delight to looke)
To see them broad and glaring; her cleare brow
Late deckt with shining jewels, prest with hornes.
How oft hath she (more frighted than asham'd)
Thought, from her selfe, in vaine, to hide her selfe?

Merc.
This can you see? not study how to helpe?

Iup.
I do, and will, by thyne aid, Mercury;
Hye therefore to the top of Pindus mount,
(There Argus keepes his watch) in some disguise;
Thy Caduceus and thy wings layd by,
Finde with the slave some conference, till by cunning
Thou charm'st his waking eies, and being fast,
Cut off his head, and with one blow extinguish
So many lights at once.

Merc.
Great Iove I will:
But thus condition'd, you will interpose
Your awfull power 'twixt me and Iuno's hate.

Iupit.
Presume th' art safe in vs.

Merc.
Then Argus dies;
One fatal stroke shall shut an hundred eies.

Exit.
Enter Argus leading Io in an halter.
Argus.
How dost thou like thyne usage, madam Cow?
Your lodging and your dyet? How dost thinke
This hempen chaine becomes thee? Will you see
Your sweet face in the riuer once againe?
Or how doth your faire beastship feele your selfe?
Wouldst thou not haue some Bulchin from the herd
To physicke thee of this venereall itch?
If not, I'le see what Nettles muddy streams,
Couch-grasse and weeds, thornes, briers, & flints can do.
These failing, here's a goad to prick your sides.
If all these medicines will not tame your lust,
I'le muster new inventions. Nay, I know
You looke for pitty, but it lives not here.
In this high watch-tower stand I sentinel,
To spy who comes and goes. I am made thy gardian,
Ile gard thee both from danger and from rest;
'Twas in thy hearing, Iuno's late behest.

Enter Mercury like a yong formal Shepheard.
Merc.
This shape may prove suspectlesse, and the fittest
To cloud a godhead in; my plumed hat
And fether'd sandals, by the which I am knowne,
I have left at foot of this descending hill:
My snaky Rod I have to this sheephooke turn'd.
Accommodated thus, to Argus now,
Aristors sonne: behooves him keepe good watch,
Whom Mercury (Ioves son) intends to catch.
But Many-eyes have spy'de me.

Arg.
How now shepheard,
There's none who in that simpl shape or name
Needs treason feare. Should any come prepar'd
For mischiefe, I have lights about me shine
Sufficient to prevent it: but thou seem'st
None of such ranke. Come sit by me and talke.

Merc.
The servant to the great Saturnia
Doth me no common grace.

Arg.
Thou know'st me then?

Merc.
What shepheard but not only knowes your name,
But feares your strength?

Arg.
Nay sit (by me th'art safe)
And tell some pretty tales to make me laugh:
I have not long been merry.

Merc.
First resolve me;
Is that faire heifer of some neighbour herd,
You drag thus in an halter?

Arg.
Shee's my charge,
A witty Brute, a most ingenious beast,
A very apprehensiue Animal,
That can do tricks: she hath been taught, I tell thee,
To write and reade.

Merc.
Argus, not possible.

Argus.
'Tis as I said before: but having her,
Some pretty tale, I prethee.

Merc.
But what if
Some goddesse should live in this shape disguis'd,
To whom you are so churlish. I could tell you
A story to that end.

Arg.
Such toyes I love.

Merc.
Thus the Pierides report: The Gyants
Assembled and made war against the gods,
Heapt Ossa upon Pelion, Caucasus
Vpon Pernassus, Pindus above them;
Hill upon mountain, mountain vpon hill,
Till they had made a scale that reacht to heaven.
The conflict then began: the monstrous Typhon
Was Captain of the Gyants: Of the gods
Great Iove, Archduke. The Generals met and fought.
In briefe (to cut off circumstance) the earth
Prevaild 'gainst heauen. The gods are forc't to fly:
Iove, chac'd by Typhon into Egypt, chang'd
Himselfe into a Ram: Apollo, frighted,
Turnes to a Crow, Bacchus into a Goat,
Iuno a Cow, Diana to a Cat;
Venus into a Fish, and tooke the sea;
Mars to a Pigmy, lest he should be knowne:
And Mercury, syrnam'd the crafty god,
Into a Fox.

Arg.
A Fox? But I would meet
That craft which could beguile Argus bright eyes.
Proceed, proceed, good shepheard.

Merc.
Why may not then
Some goddesse be included in this shape?

Arg.
A goddesse, saist thou? thinke me equall then
With one of these huge Gyants, if not greater,
That have the power and potencie to leade
A god-head in a string. But ha, what musick
(Musicke.
Was that strooke vp? 'Twas sweet and delicat,
Nor have I heard the like.

Merc.
My fellow shepheards
Behinde that rocke (from whence an echo growes)
For the more grace have chus'd that place as fittest,
Prest to bestow their cunning vpon you,
Whom they have heard, much tyr'd with watching long.

Arg.
And shall we have some merry Madrigall
To passe away the time with?

Merc.
What you please.

Arg.
I faine would know how first these Pipes came up,
That make this dainty musicke?

Merc.

Arg.
Hey ho; very fine musicke I promise you.

Merc.

Arg.
'Tis pleasing, but it makes me melancholy,
And drowsie too withall.

Merc.
(Aside.

Arg.
Were it not for my charge I'de take a nap.

Merc.
This addes wings vnto his pace,
The goale for which he is in chace.
She addes feathers to her speed;
Now it was no more than need.
Almost caught, Alas she cries,
Some chaste god my shape disguise.

Arg.
The rest may sleepe secure, so I can keepe
But two eyes waking.

Merc.

(cuts off his head.
Exit.
Enter Iuno.
Iuno.
The dying groans of Argus call'd me down,
To know what of his lustre is become.
What, all extinct? and is no memorie
Extant of their knowne brightnesse? hath one night
(Whose nature should be to be proud of stars)
Shut at one time an hundred? nay at once?
Should euery piece of time deprive so many,
How shortly would these lights innumerable
Be vanisht into nothing? But deare Argus,
That all may know thou hadst a louing mistresse,
Grieuing thou shouldst thus perish for her sake;
And that these eies (now blinde) in after-times
May giue a light to perpetuitie,
And memorize thy name, thy faith and fall,
Thy hundred eyes (who wast for Iuno slain)
I will transport into my Peacocks traine;
Whilst such a bird hath breeding, and can bee,
Her painted feathers shall remember thee.

Enter Iupiter and Mercury.
Iup.
And whilest an heifer graseth on the plaine,
Io, her hoofe shall still imprint thy name.
My Iuno are we friends? Let her long divorce,
My faire intreats, with Inachus exclaimes
Invoke thy love and pitty, by my life.

Iuno.
You vse me like a sister, not a wife,
My bed is still so empty.

Iup.
Now by Styx,
An oath no god was ever knowne to breake,
Signe her release, she shall hereafter be
To Iove as a meere stranger.

Iuno.
Since by that you sweare,
What's past is lost, it cuts off future feare,
Saving my quarrell, Mercury, to you.

Merc.
Madam, I did your seruant no great wrong,
Save teaching him to relish a new song.

Iuno.
Where jars are mediated, vain it were
Call injuries in question. As with Iupiter,
With you we are atton'd.

Iup.
Now Mercury,
Since Iuno is appeas'd, fetch Io hither,
In her owne native beauty, whom we will
Restore vnto her father.

Merc.
Sir I shall.

Enter Inachus with the other Riuers, &c.
Inach.
O Iupiter! ô Iuno!

Iup.
Inachus,
Surcease exclaimes, thy prayers have had accesse,
Thy teares been pittied, and thy losse bemoan'd;
Argus is slain, and faire Saturnia pleas'd,
And Io to her pristine shape restor'd.

Enter Mercury with Io.
Inach.
Thanks you immortall gods.

Merc.
No sooner was this mighty Queene appeas'd,
But the rough haire dropt from her tender skin,
Her hornes fell off, her eies appeard to shine
In a lesse orbe, her mouth and lips contracted
Both into compasse, and their native sweetnesse,
Her shoulders are restor'd, fingers and hands;
Her parted hoofe diuided into five,
Now with two feet contented, for on them
She straightway stood erect, and of a Cow,
Save whitenesse, nought retaining, and even yet
She feares to speake, lest she in stead of words
Should bellow forth her minde.

Io.
Yet will I dare
To give my father greeting.

Inach.
O my childe.

Iuno.
I am still jealous of that face: What's he
That makes but a mean sport of wedlocks breach,
But thinkes to violate an oath no sin,
Though calling testates all the Stygian gods?
Great King and Lord, Brother and Husband too,
If I be worthy of those attributes
Your self have daignd, and all the gods approve,
Grant me a second boon.

Iup.
For thy remisnesse
In Io's late affliction, speake, 'tis granted.

Iuno.
Then from these fields of Tempe banish her,
As far as into Egypt.

Inach.
From her father?

Iup.
Be you pleas'd,
And Iuno shall, I hope, be satisfied.
Io, you shall to Egypt be confin'd,
Be that your punishment for Iuno's hate:
Which executed you shall taste our love.
In Egypt held a goddesse thou shalt be,
Ador'd and worshipt in thine heifers shape;
Oblations shall be daily offer'd thee,
And Incense burnt to thy divinitie,
And this for ever. Iuno, in vain you sorrow,
Ioves word is past, and cannot be revok'd.
And now with this one Maxim we conclude;
Where lust is punisht, though the bloud be tainted,
It (after such long Penance) may be sainted.

Exeunt.