University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

The Scene represents Hell, consisting of many burning Ruines of Buildings on each side: In the foremost Pieces are the Figures of Prometheus and Sisyphus, Ixion and Tantalus. Beyond those are a great number of Furies and Devils, tormenting the Damned. In the middle arises the Throne of Pluto, consisting of Pillars of Fire; with him, Proserpina; at their feet sit Minos, Æacus, and Rhadamanthus. With the Throne of Pluto arise a great number of Devils and Furies, coming up at every rising about the House. Through the Pillars of Pluto's Throne, at a great distance, is seen the Gate of Hell, through which a Lake of Fire is seen; and at a huge distance, on the farther side of that Lake, are vast Crowds of the Dead, waiting for Charon's Boat.
[A Dance of Furies.
Cidip.
Some ease they find i'th'midst of pain,
When Hell does a new Subject gain.

Aglau.
But in the hottest flames this sight would please,
And Psyche's houling will our greatest torments ease.

Cid.
Were mine the hottest Furnace of all Hell,
If she were there, my flames I could bear well.

Aglau.
Were I into some dreadful Cavern tost,
Where the Damn'd are bound in eternal Frost;
Where gnashing teeth and shuddering they lie,
Cursing their births, wishing in vain to die:
To see her there would warm my icy chain,
And her extreme damnation thaw my pain.

Cidip.
But Oh our Hell is yet to come!
With horrour I expect my doom.

Aglau.
There our eternal Judges are,
By their stern looks of mercy I dispair.

Psyc.
Does my too criminal Love deserve this pain?
Circl'd with horrour must I here remain?
Through thousand terrours I have been convey'd,
With dismall yellings, shrieks and groans dismay'd:
O'r troubl'd Billows of eternal Fire,
Where tortur'd Ghosts must houl, and ne'r expire:
Where Souls ne'r rest, but feel fresh torments still,
Where furious Fiends their utmost rage fulfil;
Tossing poor houling Wretches too and fro,
From raging Fires into eternal Snow.
From thence to Flames, from thence to Ice again,
In these extremes th'encounter equal pain,
And no refreshing intervals can gain.
The cursed Fiends still laughing at their moans,
Hugging themselves to hear their shrieks and groans;
Upbraiding them with all their Crimes on earth.
Each miserable Ghost curses in vain his birth.
Encompass'd with these horrours round.
No beam of comfort have I found.
Oh cruel Venus! wilt thou ne'r relent?
Canst thou of Love such an Example make?
Can Love deserve such punishment?
Oh cruel God, thus to forsake
Me at the moment when I need him most!
I fear he is for ever lost.
I could endure the horrours of this place,
Could I again behold his much lov'd face.

Pluto
sings.
Refrain your tears, you shall no pris'ner be;
Beauty and Innocence in Hell are free:
They're Treasons, Murders, Rapes and Thefts that bring
Subjects to th' infernal King.
You are no Subject of this place,
A God you must embrace.
From Hell to Heaven you must translated be,
Where you shall live and love to all eternity.

Proserp.
Psyche, draw near: with thee this Present take,
Which given to Venus, soon thy peace will make:
Of Beauty, 'tis a Treasury Divine,
And you're the Messenger she did design.
Lost Beauty this will soon restore,
And all defects repair:
Mortals will now afresh her Beams adore,
And ease her mind of jealousie and care.
No Beauty that has this can e'r despair.

Pluto.
Here are your Sisters, who your life once sought:
Their malice to this place has Psyche brought,
And against her all these dire mischiefs wrought.
For ever here they shall remain,
And shall in Hell suffer eternal pain.
But Psyche shall a Deity embrace.

Proserp.
Be gone, fair Psyche!

Pluto.
Be gone, fair Psyche!

Both.
Be gone, fair Psyche, from this place!

Chor. of all.
For Psyche must the God of Love embrace.
For Psyche must the God of Love embrace.

Aglau.
O mercy, mercy, Sister, we implore;
You'll intercede for a reprieve.

Cidip.
No more our malice can fair Psyche grieve;
You'll be a Goddess, we must you adore.

Minos.
No grace for you she shall obtain,
For you must here remain.
Yet for her sake we'll ease you of some pain.
No raging pangs of sense here you shall know,
But must eternal labours undergo;
And with the Belides for ever live,
Still shall wish death, but never die;
Each of you must draw water in a Seive
To all eternity.

[The envious Sisters sink, with all the Devils and Euries, and the Throne of Pluto vanishes.
Psyc.
In vain, poor Sisters, I deplore your Fate!
Though living you pursu'd me with your hate:
'Tis a dark Cloud upon my happiness.
But I'll strive to forget what's past redress.
Were't not for this, my Joys I could not bear.
Immoderate joy would overthrow,
Were it not ballasted with care.
My Love! I shall enjoy thee now,
Together we shall happy be,
And live and love to all eternity!
Enter the Ghosts of Polynices and Nicander.
[Psyche starts.
This was a dismal Tragedy.
These are the Princes Ghosts we see:
Oh what sad chance has brought you down to me.

Nicand.
We felt the extremes of love and grief,
Which never cou'd have found relief:
And hand in hand we plung'd into the deep,
To seek repose by deaths last sleep.

Polyn.
Since you were lost, to ease us of our care,
We both obey'd a generous despair:
For since we could not live for you,
Our miserable lives we could not bear.
To all th'insipid World we bad adieu,
Since nothing that remain'd could please us there.

Nicand.
Death we enjoy'd, and heavy life remov'd,
For we in death behold your charms again:
Those charms which both in life and death we lov'd,
Which we had sigh'd and wept for there in vain.

Psyc.
Poor Ghosts! why would you suffer for my sake?
In vain too was your death design'd,
Now I no recompence can make;
And then by force I was ungrateful and unkind:
Could I have lov'd, your merits were so much,
Your equal greatness and your vertues such:
I ne'r had fix'd my choice on one of you,
But must eternally have waver'd betwixt two.

[She weeps.
Nicand.
Who would not willingly resign his breath,
Who by a glorious death,
The honour of your tears might gain?

Polyn.
I cannot now of Fate complain,
Nor would with tedious fools above remain.
Nor can your pity now or love implore.
Since you from hence must mount above.
And must embrace th'all pow'rful God of love,
And at an humble distance we must you adore.

Nicand.
Nor can we you of cruelty accuse,
Who for a God all mortal Kings refuse.

Polyn.
Farewell: our Destiny recalls us now,
And we t'immortal happiness should go,
If without you it could be so.

Psyc.
Stay, Princes! and declare where, and what it is,
This everlasting place of Bliss?

Nicand.
In cool sweet Shades, and in immortal Groves,
By Chrystal Rivulets, and eternal Springs;
Where the most beauteous Queens and greatest Kings,
Do celebrate their everlasting Loves.

Polyn.
In ever peaceful, fresh, and fragrant Bowers,
Adorn'd with never fading Fruits and Flowers;
Where perfum'd Winds refresh their heat,
And where immortal Quires their Loves repeat.
There your great Father we have seen,
Where he afresh enjoys his beauteous Queen.

Nicand.
Who did for hopeless Loves themselves destroy,
Are there the greatest Hero's far;
Your God with infinite and endless joy,
Rewards their meritorious despair.

Polyn.
Each moment there does far outgo
The happiest minute Earthly Lovers know.
With soft eternal Chains of Love combin'd,
There they are ever youthful, ever kind:
Their endless pleasure is all Extasie,
And not like Earthly Joys, disturb'd with care;
Each fruitful minute does new pleasures bear:
From all unwelcome interruption free;
Each moment there more pleasure is design'd,
Then mortal Lovers can, when first united, find.

Psyc.
'Tis fit that you those glorious Crowns should wear,
Of Friends and Rivals, the unequal'd pair.

Nicand.
The splendid Crowns of Lovers we've receiv'd,
But are by Heav'n of you bereav'd.
Strangers to Love we are alone;
Our Love is up to Adoration grown:
Our hours in contemplation we'll employ,
Of the transcendent glory which you share;
Our am'rous sighs shall turn to holy pray'r;
While we that Friendship, which you made, enjoy.

Polyn.
For ever without you we must remain.
And now we must no longer stay,
Lest we contribute to your pain,
And your immortal happiness delay.
Farewell for ever, and remember me.

Nicand.
Farewell for ever, and remember me.

[Ex. Nic. & Pol
Psyc.
Farewell! such Friends and Rivals ne'r were found.
How much am I by Love and Honour bound?

[Exit Psyche.
The Scene changes to the Marish which was in the former Act.
Enter Psyche.
Psyc.
These Lovers must for ever in my thoughts remain;
And would for ever give me pain,
Did not the thoughts of him my mind employ,
Who'll banish all my cares, and will compleat my joy.
But ah! my sufferings have transform'd me so,
My decay'd face and languid eyes;
My ruin'd Beauty He'll not know,
Or if he does, he will my looks despise.
But I have here a Sacred Treasury,
Which all my ruines may repair;
Since it can make Venus her self more fair,
Is't an offence if it be us'd by me?
[She opens the Box.
Oh! what dark fumes oppress my clouded brain!
I go, and never shall return again.
Farewell, my Love, for ever fare thee well.

[She swounds.
Cupid descends.
Cup.
Love o're my anger has the victory gain'd;
Thy pardon is at length obtain'd:
Thy dangers and thy sufferings I have known,
My Love has made them all my own:
With thee I languish'd with thee did complain,
With thee I sigh'd and wept, and suffer'd all thy pain.
Why dost thou hide thy conqu'ring eyes?
Dost thou a Lover and a God despise?
Open thy pretty eyes, I am still the same,
I still retain my unresisted flame;
And all my vows are still paid to thy sacred name.
She's, she's dead! O whether art thou gone?
O Tyrant death! what has thy bold hand done?
O cruel Mother! whose insatiate rage
Could thee against such innocence engage?
Thou hast by this all ties of duty broke;
No longer I'll endure thy yoke:
My filial duty to revenge shall turn,
You soon shall feel what to my pow'r you owe;
With hopeless Love you shall for ever burn,
Your unregarded pains no ease shall know:
You still shall rage with love, and to despair shall bow.

Venus descends in her Chariot.
Ven.
What insolence is this I hear?
This from a Son I can no longer bear.
Resume your duty, and put on your fear.

Cup.
Duty to her, who has made Psyche die?
Revenge shall piety succeed,
Revenge shall make your cruel heart to bleed.
And by your torments you shall find that I
Am much the greater Deity.

Ven.
Sure the great Thunderer asleep does lie,
Or does not hear this blasphemy.

Cup.
My pow'r can make the Thund'rer bow;
You all the dire effects of it shall know.
For thee, dear Psyche, full revenge I'll take,
And of my Mother first I'll the example make.
What hellish rage provok'd you to this deed?
Whom Monsters would have spar'd, you have made bleed.

Ven.
You suffer'd her my glory to invade;
And when I call'd Apollo to my aid,
You did the fraudulent God suborn.
For you he that ambiguous Riddle made,
And promis'd judgment did to mercy turn;
And by that Oracle I was betray'd.
Now to deceive me is beyond his power,
Not all his Art can make her live one hour;
For none but I cou'd Psyche's life restore.

Cup.
Can you? Oh do, and punish me;
If there were any crime, 'twas mine,
For her I'd lose my immortality.
Oh give me her, I'll all my power resign.
Here take my Quiver, take my Darts;
You when you please shall rule all hearts:
You shall the power of Love to that of Beauty joyn.

Ven.
Psyche and you have so provok'd my hate,
Your pray'rs as soon may alter Fate.

Cup.
Behold the all-commanding Deity,
[Kneels.
An humble suppliant on his knee!
Look on my Love! can you this form destroy?
Oh my lov'd Psyche! Oh my onely Joy!
Oh give me her! my duty I'll retain,
Your Son for ever shall your humblest Slave remain!

Ven.
I must be gone, you sigh and beg in vain.

Cup.
Oh hear my pray'rs! do not my tears despise;
Behold the humble offerings of my eyes.
If ever yet true grief y'ave felt,
Your Marble heart will at this object melt.
Ah think what pity to your Son is due!
Think but what wonders he has wrought for you!
How many hearts he has wounded for your sake!
Remember this, and then some pity take.

Ven.
No more for her will I neglected be,
Nor will I be afronted more by thee:
I'll be reveng'd on all your insolence,
And with eternal death I'll punish her offence.

Cup.
Oh cruel Murdress! I will take her part,
And will revenge my self upon your heart;
Against your breast I'll sharpen every Dart.
You in despair shall languish and decay:
Those feeble charms y'have left shall fly away.
Languid shall be your looks, and weak your eyes,
Your former Worshippers shall your faint Beams despise!
No Lover more you e'r shall gain,
I will be deaf, when ever you complain;
Without Love's pow'r, all Beauty is but vain.
Its seeming Essence Beauty does derive
Onely from the reflection which Love makes
Like that—
Which from reflected light a colour takes.
The Body does no being to it give.
Tremble at my revenge, for well you know,
What I by my resistless pow'r can do.

Ven.
Farewell you insolent and daring Boy:
A living Psyche you shall ne'r enjoy.

[She mounts her Chariot, and flies away.
Cup.
Oh cruel Mother! do not fly;
Oh think how great must be that misery,
Makes an Immortal Being wish to die.
Spight of my self I must for ever live,
And without her eternally must grieve:
You I conjure by all the heavenly Race,
By all the pleasure of each stoln embrace;
By the most ravishing moment of delight
You ever had, free from your Husbands sight,
By all the joys of day, and raptures of the night,
Return, return.
[Venus being almost lost in the Clouds, Cupid flies up and gets into her Chariot, and brings her back.
Do but my Psyche's life restore,
And I will never ask you more:
Do it, and all your pleasures I'll renew,
And add a thousand which you never knew.

Ven.
At length your sad complaints have soften'd me—
Psyche shall live—

Cup.
Oh Heav'n!

Ven.
But not for thee;
Nature returns, and I forgive my Boy.
Restor'd you her shall see, but never shall enjoy.

Cup.
What dreadful words are these I hear!
Jupiter appears upon his Eagle.
But lo! the mighty Thund'rer does appear,
To him your cruelty I will reveal:
To the great Jupiter I now appeal.
Soul of the World, I beg you'll do me right,
Against my savage Mothers rage and spight.

Jup.
Goddess of Beauty, you must gentle grow,
And your severe Decree recall;
T'almighty Love the Universe must bow,
And without him must to confusion fall:
On Earth no Prince, in Heav'n no Deity,
Is from his pow'rful Scepter free.
Do not the God of Union provoke,
Lest Heav'n and Earth feel his revenging stroke.
Should he the utmost of his rage employ,
He might the frame o'th Universe destroy.

Ven.
Should he a Mortal for his Wife embrace,
And by this hated Match blemish my heavenly Race.

Jup.
Psyche to him shall equal be,
She is no Mortal, she shall never die;
For I will give her Immortality.

Ven.
This puts a happy end to all our strife.
Psyche, arise: from seeming death return,
And with my Son enjoy immortal life,
Where you shall ever love, and never mourn.

[Psyche revives.
Psyc.
Who is it calls me from deaths silent night,
And makes me thus revisit light?
Oh Gods, am I again blest with thy sight!

Cup.
For ever both your Godheads I'll adore,
Who did my Psyche to my arms restore,
Nor Hell nor Heaven shall make me quit thee more.

Psyc.
Do I again view thy Celestial face!

Cup.
Do I again my Dear, my Love embrace!

Jup.
Come, happy Lovers, you with me shall go,
Where you the utmost Joys of Love shall know:
Amongst the Gods I Psyche will translate,
And they shall these blest Nuptials celebrate:
In honour to them, I will summon all
The pow'rs of Heav'n to keep a Festival.

The Scene changes to a Heav'n.
In the highest part is the Palace of Jupiter; the Columns and all the Ornaments of it of Gold. The lower part is all fill'd with Angels and Cupids, with a round open Temple in the midst of it. This Temple is just before the Sun, whose Beams break fiercely through it in divers places: Below the Heav'ns, several Semicircular Clouds, of the breadth of the whole House, descend. In these Clouds sit the Musicians, richly Habited. On the front Cloud sits Apollo alone. While the Musicians are descending, they play a Symphony, till Apollo begins, and sings as follows.
Apollo sings.
Apollo.
Assemble all the Heavenly Quire,
And let the God of Love inspire
Your hearts with his Celestial Fire.
The God of Love's a happy Lover made,
His ravishing delights shall never fade.

Chorus
of Apollo's, followers with Flageletts and Recorders.
With his Immortal Psyche He
Now tastes those joys which ought to be
As lasting as Eternity.

Apollo.
Come, Lovers, from the Elizian Groves,
And celebrate these heavenly Loves.

[A Symphony of Pipes, then Enter six Princes of Elizium, with six Ladies.
Apollo.
Bacchus with all your jolly Crew,
Come revel at these Nuptials too.

[A Symphony of Hoboys: then enter Bacchus, with the Mænades and Ægipanes.
Apollo.
Come all ye winged Spirits of the skies,
And all ye mighty Deities.

[A Symphony of Recorders. Cupids and Spirits descend, hanging in the Skies, Gods and Goddesses in Chariots and Clouds.
Apollo.
You all his humble Vassals are,
And in his joy should have a share.

Chor.
With his immortal Psyche he
Now tastes, &c.

1. Elisian Lover sings a Treble.
On Earth by unkindness are often destroy'd
The delights in the Nymphs who are so much ador'd;
Or else the poor Lovers by kindness are cloy'd,
So faint are the pleasures their Love does afford.

2. Treble.
With sighs and with tears,
With jealousies, griefs, and with fears,
The wretched poor Lover is tost,
For a few moments pleasure his liberty's lost.

3. Treble.
How short are those moments, yet how few they employ!
Ah how short! ah how short is the joy!

2. Treble.
Ah how short! ah how short is the joy!

1. Treble.
Ah how short! ah how short is the joy!

Chorus of the three Trebles
to the Recorder, Organ, and Harpsicals.
Thus wretched Mankind does suffer below,
And in Heav'n each Godhead to Cupid does bow;
But Love, Love, was ne'r perfect till now.

[A Symphony of soft Musick of all the Instruments. Then Jupiter descends in a Machine, with Cupid on one side, and Psyche on the other. Then a Dance of six Elizian Princes gloriously habited.
Mars
sings to a Warlike Movement.
Behold the God, whose mighty pow'r
We all have felt, and all adore;
To him I all my Triumphs owe,
To him my Trophies I must yield:
He makes victorious Monarchs bow,
And from the Conqu'ror gains the Field.

Chorus
to Trumpets, Kettle Drums, Flutes, & Warlike Musick.
He turns all the horrours of War to delight,
And were there no Love, no Heroes would fight.

[A Returnello by Martial Instruments, &c.
Mars.
Honour to Battel spurs them on,
Honour brings Pow'r when War is done:
But who would venture Life for Pow'r,
Onely to govern dull Mankind?
'Tis Woman, Woman they adore;
For Beauty they those dangers find.

Chorus
to Warlike Musick.
No Princes the toyls of Ambition would prove,
Or Dominion would prize, if it were not for Love.

[A Returnello again.
Bacchus.
The delights of the Bottle, and the charms of good Wine,
To the power and the pleasures of Love must resign:
Though the Night in the joys of good Drinking be past,
The debauches but till the next Morning will last.

Chorus
to Hoboys and Rustick Musick of Mænades and Ægipanes.
But Loves great Debauch is more lasting and strong;
For that often lasts a man all his life long.

A Returnello again.
Bacchus.
Love and Wine are the Bonds which fasten us all;
The World but for these to confusion would fall:
Were it not for the pleasures of Love and good Wine,
Mankind for each trifle their lives would resign.

Chorus.
They'd not value dull life, or would live without thinking;
Nor would Kings rule the World but for Love and good drinking.

A Returnello again.
Apollo.
But to Love! to Love the great union they owe;
All in Earth and in Heav'n to his Scepter must bow.

A general Chorus of all the Voices
and Instruments. The Dancers mingle with the Singers
All joy to this Celestial Pair,
Who thus by Heav'n united are:
'Tis a great thing, worth Heav'ns design,
To make Love's Pow'r with Beauty's joyn.

[Six Attendants to the Elizian Princes bring in Portico's of Arbors, adorn'd with Festoons and Garlands, through which the Princes and they dance, the Attendants still placing them in several Figures.
Jup.
For ever happy in your Psyche be,
Who now is crown'd with Immortality;
On Earth Love never is from troubles free,
But here 'tis one eternal Extasie:
'Mongst all the Joys which Heav'n and Earth can find,
Love's the most glorious object of the mind.