University of Virginia Library

The First Act.

When the Curtain is drawn up, there's discover'd at Sestos, a Throng of People, from them
Enter Castor and Stredon, puffing and blowing.
Cast.
Mate, O for a fresh Gale, to give me breath.

Stre.
Master, this Feast of Venus and Adenis
Is hotter then a dog-Day: how I sweat?
But Castor, 'twas good luck, our jeering Friends
(In Asia) could not see how thou and I
Were stranded here (in Europe) run a ground
Upon a multitude of staring Greeks.

Cast.
Send me abord my ship; In these Land-Crowds
There's more confusion then in Storms at Sea!
Tack about, Stredon, we have lost the Princes.

Enter Leander.
Lean.
Castor? Stredon?

Stre.
Hark? Our great Master calls.

Lean.
Is the Show comming yet?

Enter Orosis.
Oros.
Leander, Stand.
The Chariot moves; and in it, such a Venus
As stirs up my Devotion, a young Lady
In a Youth's arms; what would I give for's Place?

Lean.
His Wife she may be, or perhaps his Wench,

Oros.
Ladas (who knows this Town of Sestos) sayes,
These Rites admit no Wench, nor Married-Woman;
Venus to day is a Terestrial Maid,
But I adore her,

Lean.
Fye, Orosis, now,
When Persia, Syria, and Arabia, meet
At the Great Feast of Venus and Adonis;
When Malta, Cyprus, Rhodes, and Sicily,
Land their whole Islands on this Continent,
To pay th'Immortal Gods religious duties,
Can'st thou think of adoring mortal Beautyes?

Oros.
Leander of our Trojan Family
You are the Chief; I, your poor younger-Brother:
You, by your Birth-right, may claim Hector's Valour,
A second Paris I: no marvail then,
If I court Women, whilst you conquer Men.

Lean.
Thou court'st all Women,

Oros.
To chuse out the best;
This Beauty must be nobly born, and Chast:
She's like Celena, our now-equall'd Sister.

The Show.
Theamne and Samertes, habited like Venus and Adonis, appear in a Chariot, drawn by Girls and Boys, wearing white Vests and Garlands of Roses.
Theamne and Samertes kiss.
1 Boy.
Venus and Adonis kiss;
Pretty Maids, how like you this?

1 Girl.
We like all, that Love's Queen esteems.

2 Boy.
And she likes Kissing well, it seems:
Our smiling Goddess, this Feast-Day,
Will grant all Suits: pray Virgins, pray.

2 Girl.
When you grow Men, that you prove true,
Sweet Boyes, we pray: for what pray You?

2 Boy.
We pray to Venus, that she'l please
To make us all Adonises.

Song.

When Sons of Mars quarrel
For Fame and the Laurel,
They dye, nipt like Buds in the Spring:
VVe Children of Venus,
When our Nurses wean us,
Play, Laugh, Kiss, and merrily Sing.
Yet VVe get Renown,
VVhich Cupid proposes;
And VVe wear a Crown,
Not Laurel, but Roses.
Our Goddess, Softer then our Flowers,
VVill make no resistance.
Malignant and Infernal Powers
Set Hearts at a distance.

Chorus.
Fair Venus dwells above
The Moon, young Adonis under:
But Youth and Beauty will love,
The Stars cannot keep them asunder.

Samertes and Theamne come down, they dance; the Show goes off, after it the People.
Lean.
Let the Crowd follow her, thou shalt not stir,
She's young, and fair, but She's I know not Who.

Oros.
Who e're she be, so much Divinity
She has, that for it I'l exchange my Honour.

Lean.
After Troy's ruine, on the Royal House
Of Priam and Assarracus, wilt thou
Bring more destruction by a shameful Match?
I charge thee, stay.

Oros.
Command your Gally-Slaves.

Lean.
If reason can persuade, thou wilt not go.

Oros.
You'l let me send?

Lean.
None that belongs to me:
Take Captives and thou shalt have all my Fleet.
But not a man to make thy self a Slave.

Oros.
Though I have here no Servant, I scorn thine,
And thee; I'l Act alone.

Lean.
Act, like a Prince;
Act with thy Brother, come in for a share
In the Dominion of the Euxine Sea:
I'l joyne with thee in the pursuit of Glory,
But where there's nothing to be got, but shame,
I leave thee.

Oros.
Oh, your Servant, you are call'd
To the releife of some poor fighting Ships;
I'm called-on too.

Lean.
But 'tis to Court, not Fight.

Oros.
I would increase, and not destroy, Mankind.

Lean.
Thou wilt be lost to Honour, and add none
To Nature, but a Race, thou'lt blush to own:
Could'st thou indure a Son that would like thee,
Marry the Pageant, which he came to see;
A Son that (when the Warr he should espouse
And with triumphant Laurel Wreath his brows)
Worse then a Coward, should seek to hide his head
In the soft Pillow of a Wanton's bed?

Oros.
You have alarm'd me, I'm now for Arms.

Lean.
And now let us embrace as Fellow-Souldiers.

Oros.
But in great Souldiers hearts, Mistresses have
The second Place.

Lean.
Dost thou prefer the War,
Before the Mistress?

Oros.
Yes; and to be serious,
Do not you fear, my Spirit is so low,
To match with Beauty of a mean extraction.

Lean.
Then, follow thy Amour; I'l follow thee

Oros.
Let's now embrace as Brothers: I presume,
The sacred Chariot's going to the Temple.
There my Young Venus once more we'l behold,
To Her I'l pray: the Goddess is grown Old.

[Exeunt.
Enter Tiresias, Aphila and Arcas.
Tire.
Thou know'st I love thee.

Aphi.
So't appears; for, you,
Kind Husband, rob me of the Right of Nature,
You take my Child out of her Mother's Power.
Hero's a Priestess, for a whole year Cloister'd:
Was this an Act of Love to her, or me?

Tire.
Aphila, 'twas an Act of Piety,

Aphi.
Tiresias, 'twas an Act of Policy.

Tire.
This only clears the Account to Venus; she
Lent her to us, I pay her to the Goddess.

Aphi.
You mock me and the Goddess; for to both
Great Zeal you do pretend, but value neither.
These are the Prophet's Tricks, Legerdemains,
That come to you from your Progenitors,
The Delphick Priests: and since you came to Thrace,
Your Pride, is, like your Gold, pil'd-up so high
That you look down, with Scorn, upon my Kindred.

Tire.
Whom, of your Kindred, have I ever Scorn'd?

Aphi.
My Nephew Arcas; because he lov'd Hero,
She was committed Priestess, to the Tower.

Tire.
This is great news; Arcas, do you love Hero?

Arcas.
Above the World, for she's worth many Worlds;
The Maid's Divine,

Aphi.
That's by the Mother's side;
The Father's grown inhumane to his own.

Tire.
In my indulgent care, I have express'd
My Fatherly affection to our Children.
I made Samertes Governour of Sestos;
His Chin's still smooth, yet is the Sword in's hand:
And if Great Mentor Admiral of Athens,
Were not yet kept from us by a storm at Sea,
This day, Theamne should have been his Bride.

Aphi.
But Hero is a Priestess.

Tire.
Dear, you know,
One of my Family's Prerogatives,
Her Priesthood is, and lasts but for a Year,
Then, noble Arcas, you may Court her freely,
Mean time, you haue my Wife's consent, and mine.

Arcas.
Gifts, dearer then the life my Parents gave.

Aphi.
Now I adore your holy Ceremonies,
Which Crown our Children, in the Town, and Temple.
Enter Samertes and Theamne.
Here comes our Venus and Adonis; Son,
Thy Sacred Father to my Nephew Arcas
Has promis'd Hero: give the Bride-groom joy.

Samer.
First, Madam, with your leave, I'l joy my self,
That I have such a Brother.

Arcas.
Who admires
Only two Miracles of Nature; Hero,
For Beauty: and for Gallantry, Samertes.

Same.
Y'have reason.

Thea.
What a Peacock is my Brother.

Same.
Theamne, this should be thy Wedding-day,
But thy Great Bride-groome's rivall'd by a Storm:
Dost thou not pray devoutly for a Calm?

Thea.
I love a Sea, in which the Dolphin playes.

Same.
Thou lovest a Man.

Thea.
Known only by his Fame.

Same.
Yes, by his Picture.

Thea.
That's not fac'd like you;
For I perceive, that Mentor's no Adonis.

Same.
But he's a Mars, which Venus likes as well;
There's in a Souldier's roughness a strange Spell;
Then Maids love Title, and he's styl'd the Great.

Tire.
A Title merited, when he destroy'd
The Persian Fleet, and with his own hand slew
The Great King's Vice-roy.

Same.
Nay Sir, he has yet
A higher Title, he's my Fathers Friend.
Sister, ingeniously confess; before
Thou see'st Great Mentor, fear'st thou not this loss?

Thea.
I feare his stern looks] Pitty such a Man
Should perish—

Same.
And thou live a Maid.

Thea.
That's pleasant:

Tire.
Son, thy Unusual mirth presages well.

Same.
Sir, you derive your self from Delphian Prophets,
Do y'not fore-see, that I'l be merrier?
My Veins shall swell with your best Wines; this Ev'ning.
I mean to feast those Friends, who at the show
Made-up our Traine.

Aphi.
I'l order you a Treat,
And make't as Noble, as my Joyes are Great.

[Exeunt.
Enter Hero and Nurse, In the Temple.
On the Altar, between two Tapers burning, stand the Statues of Venus and Cupid.
Nurse.
You Maids, that in your slowry Youth scorn Men,
Are met withal; for in your wither'd Age,
Men laugh at you.

Hero.
As I do, at thy Precepts.

Nurse.
Do y'laugh?

Hero.
Nurse I should frown, but that I know
The Difference between thee and other Nurses.
In Smooth discourses they hint Wanton thoughts,
Thy Natur's modest; though thy Humour be
Too Gay, for one so Old.

Nurse.
Well, Hero, Well;
Your Humour's froward; will you never Marry?

Hero.
Pray hear my Reasons.

Nurse.
I dare stay no longer;
My Lady will frown, if she want my Service
At such a Feast.

Hero.
My duty to my Parents,
Nurse, you'l not fail to say you left me well?

Nurse.
In body; but, I'faith, I'l tell your Mother,
How peevishly you mortifie your Mind.
Diana loves to have her Priestess strict;
But Venus favours not a single Life,
She hates a Maid, that would not be a Wife.

Hero.
Free I was born, why should I not live Free?

Nurse.
What think you Marriage is?

Hero.
Perpetual Bondage.
Hero kneels to Venus.
O Venus, if the Service I have done,
Here in thy Temple, please thee; Chide thy Son,
When he shoots at me any thing, but Lead;
Save me, dear Goddess, from the Nuptial bed:
Nor to Posterity let Time record,
That She, who was thy Servant, had a Lord.

Nurse.
Child, dare you pray to Venus, against Love?
Take heed, some Judgment do not fall upon you:
Never young Virgin made a Prayer so wicked.

Hero.
Never Old-woman was so Superstitious:
Nay, sweet Nurse, stay; thou shalt not part in fury;
Stay, that I may convert thee to my Faith.

Enter Leander and Orosis.
Hero and Nurse talk with their faces to the Altar.
Lean.
That talking old Priest made us come too late,
The Chariot's gone.

Oros.
We met him luckily,
Now I may own my Love to fair Theamne.

Lean.
But sure her Sister Hero is deform'd,
And therefore, by her Parents, the poor soul
Was made a Priestess and plac'd here, to Pray.

Oros.
They are great Ladies.

Lean.
Yes, the Priest told us,
Their Father is chief Magistrate of Sestos.

Oros.
But under him their Brother has the Sword,
He's Governour.

Lean.
Who, he that was Adonis?

Oros.
O Sir, to a young Souldier, bred in Sparta,
The Sword may be intrusted.

Lean.
It sutes worse,
With their old Father's Attribute of Prophet,
To make his Son Adonis in a show;
But Greece is wanton.

Oros.
Leaving your Grave thoughts,
Advise me, shall I move Theamne's Father?
Or with me at the Altar will You kneel,
And try, if we can pray Theamne hither?

Lean.
We may pray here, or there, but to no purpose,
Tiresias is too rich.

Oros.
Rust eate his coine;
The poorest Prince deserves—

Lean.
Triumphal Arches,
When he's Victorious.

Oros.
Brother, I'l Fight well,
And Love well too.

Lean.
I am a Man, I scorn
Hero and Nurse turn from the Altar.
Love's Childish Toys—VVhat miracle of Nature
Draws Cupid's Bow, to wound me, who so oft
have slighted his Divinity?

Oros.
He's blasted!
Sure, Love has struck him with a flash of Lightning,
Leander, VVhat deprives thee of thy Senses?

Lean.
Wonder, Fear, Modesty; and Impudence.

Oros.
Before th'Immortal Gods, could you be bold?

Lean.
Profanely rude; I hardly can forbear:
Yet, silently I'l sound her inclination.

Oros.
She steals a look; hang me, but she'l prove kind.

Hero.
Oh, I have been too busy with my eyes,
They have betray'd their Mistress: Shall I yield
Before the Souldier summons me? Help Nurse.

Nurse.
No, I'm a Superstitious old Woman:
VVhat think you of strict Resolutions now?
Ben't you in Love?

Hero.
I am, I know not what.

Lean.
'Tis happy, that my Love's not made the sport
Of her Disdain; for Favour now I'l sue.
Priestess, a Temple you your self deserve,
For y'are as great a Pow'r, as she you serve:
Here reign two Queens of Love divinely Fair;
And both, I hope, will hear a Stranger's Pray'r.

Hero.
Not strangers, but deserving Friends I hear.

Lean.
Though I am not related yet so near,
I love you, more then Friend or Brother can.

Hero.
I never did, nor ever will love Man.

Lean.
If you'l not love, then cruel-Faire, I'l dye.

Hero.
I cannot love, nor hate: for 'tis not I
That am mine own Disposer; in my choice
My Father, and my Mother, has a Voice:
Stranger, your Suit depends upon their Wills;
But I must to the Tow'r, the Temple fills.
How needful your advice is, Nurse, you see?

Nurs.
Child, when the Banquet's serv'd, I'l come again.

[Exeunt Hero and Nurse, severally.
Lean.
Who shall treat with their Parents?

Oros.
That will I;
For I first lov'd, and therefore I'l first speak.

Lean.
With all the Art thou did'st at Athens learn,
Move both our Suits.

Oros.
Only my own Concern;
For, you are sure to speed, if I prevail:
And you'l be undiscover'd, if I fail.

[Exeunt.