University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

SOSIA
advances with a Lanthorn.
Is there a bolder fellow?—Is there any one
More stout of heart than I am?—I, who know
The humours of our wild young sparks, yet dare
Walk by myself at this late hour of night.
What shall I do now, if the watch should seize
And thrust me into prison?—Why, to-morrow
I shall be serv'd up from that dainty larder,
And well drest with a whipping:—not a word
Allow'd me in my own defence;—no master
To take my part;—and ev'ry soul will think,
I've my deserts:—So shall eight sturdy fellows
Bethump me like an anvil.—In this sort
They'll greet me on my coming, thus receive
And entertain me at the public charge!—
These honours has my master forc'd upon me,
Who sent me from the port so late at night
Against my inclination.—Could he not
Have waited till 'twas day-light to dispatch me?—
This is the hardship of a great man's service,
Wherefore his servant leads a plaguy life on't:
By day, by night, there's work enough and more,
That will not let him rest. The master, he
Being free himself from labour, thinks his slave
Can drudge and drudge still on, what'er befalls him;
Nay, thinks it just, and never counts the toil,
Or once considers, whether his commands
Are right or wrong. Wherefore in servitude
We suffer much oppression: yet the burthen
Must be endur'd with pain.

Merc.
On this account
I have more reason surely to complain
Of servitude,—I, who before was free,
Though now my father has me for his slave:
This fellow, who was born a slave, complains!
But hold—I only am a slave in name.

Sos.
Stay,—now I think on't, I should thank the gods
For my arrival.—Would they recompense me
As I deserve, they should commission some one
To welcome me with douses on the chaps:
For all their goodness has been thrown away
On an ungrateful rascal.

Merc.
His deserts
He knows then, which such fellows seldom do.

Sos.
Well,—To come home in a whole skin!—'twas what
I never thought, or any of our people.
The foes subdued, our troops are marching homeward,
The war extinguish'd, and the enemy slain,
That wrought such bitter troubles to our Thebans.
Their town was storm'd and taken by the strength
And valour of our men, but chief of all
By the command and conduct of Amphitryon,
My master, who has since distributed
The booty, lands, and corn among the soldiery,
And firmly fix'd king Creon in his throne.
He has sent me home before him to acquaint
His lady with the news,—with what command
And conduct he discharg'd his public trust.
Now let me study how to frame my story.—
What if I tell her lies?—I act in character:
For when the armies fought with all their might,
With all my might I ran away. However,
I'll make pretence that I was in the action,
And speak from hearsay.—Well—but in what terms,
What method it were best to tell my story,
First let me here consider with myself.—
(After pausing.)
I'll begin thus.—“Soon as we were arriv'd,
And touch'd the earth at landing, strait Amphitryon
Picks out the chiefs among the chieftains, sends them
Upon an embassy, commanding them
To tell the Teleboans this his mind.—
“If without force or war they'd willingly
“Deliver up the plunderers and their plunder,
“If they'd restore what they had carried off,
“His army forthwith he would homeward lead;
“The Greeks should quit their country, left to them
“In peace and quiet: but if other-minded,
“They slighted his demands, he'd then attack
“Their town with all his force.”—When his ambassadours
Had told this to the Teleboans, they
Stout-hearted, proud of their own strength, relying
On their own prowess, roughly chid our delegates.
Their answer was, “they could defend themselves
“And theirs by war, and counsell'd us to lead
“Our army back with speed from off their borders.”
This answer brought by our ambassadours,
Amphitryon draws his troops from their encampments,
The Teleboans theirs from out the town,
Clad in bright arms: and when on either hand
The armies had march'd up with all their force,
The ranks were form'd; we drew up in array
Our men according to our rule and practice;
The enemy on their part did the same.
Both generals then advanc'd before the ranks
In the mid space, and there confer'd together:
It was agreed, whichever should be vanquish'd
In the engagement, should surrender up
Their city, lands, gods, houses, and themselves.
This done, the trumpets clang on either side;
Earth echoes; shouts arise; the generals make
Their pray'r to Jove, and here and ev'ry where
Their troops encourage: each man lays about him
To th'utmost of his strength; the faulchions smite;
The lances shiver; and the welkin bellows
With th'uproar of the soldiers: from their breaths
And pantings rises a thick cloud: they fall
Oppress'd with wounds and violence. At length,
According to our wish, our troops prevail:
Fast fall the foe: we press upon them: thus,
Fierce in our strength, we conquer'd. Not a man
Yet fled, or started from his post, but each
Fought and maintain'd his ground: they'd sooner lose
Their life, than quit their station: each that falls,
Falls where he stood, and keeps his rank in death.
Amphitryon, seeing this, orders the horse
To charge upon the right: they quick obeying
With outcries and brisk onset rush upon them,
And tear and trample on the impious foe.

Merc.
He has not utter'd yet a single word,
That is not true; for I myself was present,
So was my father, when they fought this battle.

Sos.
The foe betook themselves to flight, which added
New spirit to our men: the Teleboans
Had, as they fled, their bodies fill'd with darts.
Amphitryon's self with his own hand cut off
King Pterelas's head. The fight continued
From morn to evening:—I the more remember it,
Because I went that day without a dinner.
Night interpos'd at length, and broke it off.
Next day the magistrates, all drown'd in tears,
Came to us from the city to our camp;
With cover'd hands intreat us to forgive
Their trespass, and surrender up themselves,
Their city, children, with all things divine
And human, to the Thebans, all to be
In their possession and at their disposal.
Lastly, my lord Amphitryon was presented
With the gold cup King Pterelas us'd to drink from,
In token of his valour.”—Thus I'll tell
My story to my lady. I'll proceed now
T'obey my master's orders, for which purpose
I'll take me home.

Merc.
Ah, ha! he's coming hither:
I'll meet him then. I must not let him enter
Within the doors to day: but since I bear
His semblance, I'm resolv'd to play him off.
As I've assum'd his form and garb, 'twere fit
I should resemble too his deeds and manners:
I must be sly,—a cunning knave,—and fight him
With his own weapons, drive him from the door
By villainous craft.—But, how now, what's the matter?
He's staring at the sky.—I'll watch his motions.

Sos.
As I have faith in any thing, as sure
As I know any thing, I think and know,
That Night this night went drunk to bed: for see!
The seven stars are motionless, the moon
Has stir'd not, since she rose; nor is Orion,
The evening-star, or Pleiades yet set:
The signs stand stock still; and the night don't budge
A jot for day.

Merc.
Good Night, as you've begun,
Go on, obsequious to my father's pleasure:
'Tis the best service, for the best of beings,
Best done; and you will find your interest in it.

Sos.
I think I never saw a longer night
Than this, except one night, when I was drub'd,
And hung up by the heels: yet this methinks
Exceeds e'en that in length.—Faith I believe
The Sun has drank too much, and dropt asleep.

Merc.
Say you so, varlet? Do you think the Gods
Are like yourself?—You hang-dog!—but I'll pay you
For your vile deeds and speeches. Come but hither,
You'll find your ruin.

Sos.
Where are those gallants,
So loth to lye alone?—A rare night this,
To have their penny-worths of their doxies.

Merc.
Faith
This fellow hits my master father to an ace,
Who now is lying in Alcmena's arms,
His heart's desire indulging.

Sos.
I'll go in,
And tell Alcmena what my master bade me.
(Advancing discovers Mercury)
What do I see? a man before the house,
So late at night? I like him not.

Merc.
The rogue
Has not his equal for rank cowardice.

Sos.
What is he?—By his motions he should seem
A weaver, and would fain now trim my jacket.

Merc.
He's frighten'd: I'll have sport with him.

Sos.
I'm ruin'd:
How my teeth chatter! sure he's posted here
To give me a reception with his fists.
Troth he takes pity on me; and because
My master now has made me keep awake,
He'll lull me with his fists to sleep.—Look, look—
I'm lost for ever—what a swinging rogue!
How brawny!—

Merc.
I'll draw nearer, raise my voice
That he may hear me, and from thence conceive
More terrible fears within him.— (Loud)
Come my fists,
To action;—stir ye;—'tis a long long while
Since ye have made provision for my belly.
Methinks it is an age since yesterday
Ye stript four men, and laid them dead asleep.

Sos.
I'm sore afraid, that I shall change my name;
No longer simple Sosia, but be stil'd
Sosia The Fifth.—He says, he laid asleep
Four men: I fear, I shall augment the number.

Merc.
(Throwing about his arms.)
There I could have him; Sa—this is the way,
This does the business.

Sos.
He's prepar'd for action:
He puts himself in posture.

Merc.
He sha'n't scape
Without a drubbing.

Sos.
Who?

Merc.
Whoever comes
This way, shall eat my fists.

Sos.
Pshaw! I don't like
To eat so late at night—Away with them.—
I supt just now—Then pray bestow your supper
On them that have more appetite.

Merc.
This fist
Is not of trifling weight.

Sos.
I'm a dead man:
He's weighing of his fists.

Merc.
What if I stroak him
Gently to sleep?

Sos.
You'll do me a great service;
For I have watch'd these three whole nights together.

Merc.
That's but a paultry action:—No, my fist,
Thou hast not learnt to smite a cheek so poorly.
One glance of thine would make a man put on
Another form.

Sos.
He'll vamp me up a-new,
New mould my face.

Merc.
If lustily thou strik'st,
A mercy on his bones!

Sos.
Why sure he means
To bone me like an eel. I wish him further
With these his boning tricks.—I'm a dead man,
If he should see me now.—

Merc.
Some fellow stinks
To his destruction.

Sos.
How now! do I smell?

Merc.
Nor can he be far off, though he has been so.

Sos.
Sure he's a conjurer.

Merc.
O how my fists
Itch to be at it!

Sos.
If you mean on me
To exercise them, prithee cool them first
Against the wall.

Merc.
A voice flies to my ears.

Sos.
Unlucky, that I did not clip it's wings,
Since 'tis a bird-like voice.

Merc.
The wretch! he calls for't,
He claims it of me, a most heavy lading
On his beast's back.

Sos.
Not I;—I have no beast
Of burthen truly.

Merc.
Yes, he shall be loaded
Well with these fists.

Sos.
In troth I am fatigued
With coming from on shipboard, and e'en now
I am so crop-sick, I can scarcely crawl,
Even without a lading. Do not think then,
That I can carry burthens.

Merc.
Certainly
'Tis Some-one speaks.

Sos.
I'm safe; he sees me not.
He says, 'tis Some-one speaks: now verily
My name is Sosia.

Merc.
As it seems, the voice
Upon the right here strikes my ear.

Sos.
I fear,
I shall be beaten for my voice that strikes him.

Merc.
He's coming tow'rds me—Good.

Sos.
I'm sore afraid;
I'm numb'd all over.—Now could I not tell,
If any one should ask me, where I am:
Nor can I budge a foot, I am so frighten'd.—
All's over; I have lost my master's orders,
And Sosia with them.—Yet I am resolv'd
To face this fellow, and bespeak him boldly;
I'll seem as valiant as I can, that he
May keep hands off me. (advances towards the door)


Merc.
You, Sir, whither go you?
You there, that carry Vulcan in your horn?

Sos.
Who made you an examiner? you, who bone
Men with your fists?

Merc.
Are you a slave, or free?

Sos.
Whichever likes me.

Merc.
Say'st thou?

Sos.
Ay, I say it.

Merc.
You want a drubbing,

Sos.
Now you lye, I don't.

Merc.
I'll make you own it.

Sos.
Wherefore?

Merc.
I must know
Whose you are, where you're going, what's your errand.

Sos.
My way lies here: I am my master's servant:
What are you now the wiser?

Merc.
I shall make you
Hold that foul tongue of your's.

Sos.
You cannot do it:
I keep it pure and clean.

Merc.
How! prating still?
What business have you at this house?

Sos.
And pray
What business have you here?

Merc.
King Creon sets
A watch here ev'ry night.

Sos.
'Tis gracious in him
To guard our house, the while we are abroad.
But prithee now go in, and tell the family
Some of their fellow-servants are arriv'd.

Merc.
Whose fellow you may be I know not; but if
You don't be gone this instant, I shall give you
Such a reception, fellow, as you will not
Take in good fellowship.

Sos.
I tell you, I
Live here, and am a servant of this house.

Merc.
D'ye mind? unless you take yourself away,
I shall exalt you.

Sos.
How?

Merc.
You shall be carry'd:
If I but take a cudgel, you'll not walk,
I promise you.

Sos.
Nay, but I do affirm,
That I'm a servant in this family.

Merc.
Look to't—you'll have a drubbing, if you don't
Be gone this instant.

Sos.
Would you then desire
To drive me from my home, when I am just
Arriv'd here from abroad?

Merc.
Is this your home?

Sos.
It is, I say.

Merc.
Who is your master then?

Sos.
Amphitryon, general of the Theban troops,
The husband of Alcmena.

Merc.
Ha! what say you?
What is your name?

Sos.
Our Thebans call me Sosia,
The son of Davus.

Merc.
To thy sore mishap
Art thou arriv'd, thou monster of effrontery!—
With made up lies, and patch'd up knaveries.

Sos.
I'm come with patch'd cloaths it is true, not knaveries.

Merc.
You lye, 'tis with your feet you come, not cloaths.

Sos.
Ay verily.

Merc.
Ay verily then take
This drubbing for your lye.

(Striking him.)
Sos.
Indeed forsooth
I don't desire it, I.

Merc.
Indeed forsooth
But you shall have it, though you don't: indeed
'Tis so resolv'd, and 'tis not in your choice. (striking him.)


Sos.
I cry you mercy!

Merc.
Dost thou dare affirm
That thou art Sosia, when myself am he?

Sos.
Murder!

(Still striking him.)
Merc.
This is but little in respect
Of what you'll have in future. Now whose are you?

Sos.
Your's: for your fists have mark'd me for your own.—
(Mercury continues to strike him)
Help, help, good Citizens!

Merc.
Still bawling, Sirrah?
Speak, wherefore came you here?

Sos.
That you might have
Somebody to belabour with your fists.

Merc.
Whose are you then?

Sos.
I say, Amphitryon's Sosia.

Merc.
You shall be drubb'd more heartily for this,
You talk so idly.—I myself am Sosia,
Not you.

Sos.
I would to heav'n you were indeed,
That I were beating you!

(Aside)
Merc.
What! muttering?

Sos.
I'll
Be dumb now.

Merc.
Who's your master?

Sos.
Whom you will.

Merc.
Come prithee, what's your name?

Sos.
I have no name,
But what you shall command.

Merc.
You said you was
Amphitryon's Sosia.

Sos.
I mistook: I meant
To say, I was Amphitryon's Associate.

Merc.
I knew we had no servant of the name
Of Sosia but myself.—You've lost the use
Sure of your reason.—

Sos.
Would that you had lost
The use too of your fists!

(Aside.)
Merc.
I am that Sosia,
You said you was.

Sos.
Let us discourse in peace,
I pray you,—without hazard of a beating.

Merc.
Well, for a while then we will hold a truce,
If you have ought to say.

Sos.
I will not speak,
Till peace is ratified, for you are mightier
In fists than I.

Merc.
If you have ought to offer,
Speak; I'll not hurt you.

Sos.
May I trust your honour?

Merc.
You may.

Sos.
But what if you deceive me?

Merc.
Then
May Mercury's displeasure light on Sosia!

Sos.
Mark.—Now I am allow'd to speak with freedom,
I am Amphitryon's Sosia.

Merc.
What, again? (Offering to strike.)


Sos.
The peace is made, the covenant's ratified:
I speak the truth.

Merc.
Beware thee of a beating. (Threatening.)


Sos.
Do as you please, and what you please;—'tis true,
In fists you are the mightier,—yet I'll not
Be silent on this point, do what you may.

Merc.
Nay, you shall never make me, while you live,
Other than Sosia.

Sos.
Nor shall you make me
An alien here.—We have no other Sosia
But me, who went to th'army with Amphitryon.

Merc.
The fellow's mad.

Sos.
'Tis you that are distemper'd.
Why, what a plague! Am I not Sosia,
Amphitryon's slave? Did not the ship, that brought me,
Arrive this night here from the Persian port?
Did not my master send me? Do not I
Stand here before our house now? Have I not
A lanthorn in my hand? Do I not speak?
Am I not broad awake? Did not this man
Bethump me with his fists?—In troth he did;
My cheeks smart to my sorrow still.—Then why,
Why do I doubt? why don't I go directly
Into our house?

(Makes up to the door.)
Merc.
(Stepping between.)
What! your house?

Sos.
'Tis so truly.

Merc.
Tis all a lye, all, ev'ry syllable
That you have said.—I am Amphitryon's Sosia:
This night our vessel left the Persian port:
The city we besieg'd, where Pterelas reign'd,
The Teleboan forces we o'erthrew
By dint of arms: Amphitryon's self cut off
King Pterelas' head in battle.

Sos.
I can scarce
(Aside.)
Believe myself, when I thus hear him talk:
He tells it off hand, as it were without book,
What was transacted in the war.—But heark ye,
What present from the Teleboan spoils
Was given to Amphitryon?

Merc.
A gold cup,
King Pterelas us'd to drink from.

Sos.
He has said.—
But where now is the cup?

Merc.
'Tis in a casket
Seal'd with Amphitryon's seal.

Sos.
What's the impression?

Merc.
Sol rising in his chariot.—What, you rascal,
Are you upon the catch?

Sos.
His arguments
Have overcome me: I must e'en go seek
Another name.—'Tis strange, where he could see
All this.—But I shall trap him now most rarely:
For what I did alone, when no one else
Was in the tent, that he can never tell.—
(to Mercury)
If you are Sosia,—tell me,—while the armies
Were in the heat of battle, what did you
Do in the tent?—Tell that, and I knock under.

Merc.
There was a cask of wine.—I fill'd a cup—

Sos.
He has hit it.

Merc.
—Suck'd it down unmixt, and pure
As from the mother it was born.

Sos.
O wonderful!
He must have hid him in the cup.—'Tis fact:
I drank a cup-full of sheer wine.

Merc.
What now?
Have I convinc'd thee, that thou art not Sosia?

Sos.
Do you deny it?

Merc.
Can I but deny it,
When I am he?

Sos.
By Jupiter I swear,
I am, nor do I lye.

Merc.
I swear by Mercury,
Jupiter won't believe thee; for I know
He'll sooner credit me without an oath
Than with one he will thee.

Sos.
Tell me, at least
Who am I, if so be I am not Sosia?
I ask you that.

Merc.
My pleasure when it is
No longer to be Sosia, then be thou
Sosia, and welcome. Now that I am he,
Begone, as thou would'st 'scape a drubbing.—Hence,
Thou fellow!

Sos.
Now I view him well, by heav'ns
I see my very figure, such as I
Have often seen it in a glass.—'Tis certain,
He's very like me.—The same hat, same coat—
He is as like me as I'm like myself.—
The shanks, feet, stature, shorn pate, eyes, nose, teeth,
Lips, cheeks, chin, beard, neck—'tis myself all over!
Need I say more to't?—If his back be scar'd,
There's nothing can be liker than this likeness.
—Yet surely, when I think on't, I'm the same
I ever was: I know my master, know
Our house: and verily I have not lost
My wits nor senses.—I'll not heed this fellow,
Say what he will, but knock here at the door.

Merc.
Whither so fast?

Sos.
Why, home.

Merc.
Tho' thou wer't now
To mount the car of Jove, and fly from hence,
Scarce should'st thou 'scape destruction.

Sos.
May I not
Deliver my master's message to my mistress?

Merc.
To thine deliver what thou wilt, I care not:
But I'll not suffer thee t'approach our lady.—
And now, if once thou dost provoke me, fellow,
Depart thou shalt not without broken bones.

Sos.
I'll be gone rather.—Heav'ns have mercy on me!
Where did I lose myself? where was I changed?
Why did I lose my form? or was I haply
So thoughtless as to leave myself behind here?
For certainly this fellow is possest
Of my whole image, which was mine before.
[My statue is erected in my stead:]
What never will be done when I am dead,
Is done, while now I'm living.—I'll return
Back to the port, and tell this to my master.—
But if he likewise know me not!—O Jupiter,
Grant that he may not:—so shall I directly
Cover my shorn crown with the cap of freedom.
[Exit Sosia.

SCENE II.

MERCURY
alone.
Well!—our affair goes prosperously on.
I have remov'd the greatest obstacle;
So that my father may indulge his love
Securely with Alcmena.—Now this fellow,
Soon as he sees Amphitryon, will tell him,
That Sosia drove him Sosia from the door.
What must his master think, but that he lyes?
He'll not believe it, that his slave has been
Here, as he had commanded. Thus shall both,
And all Amphitryon's family, be fill'd
With error and distraction, till my father
Has full enjoyment had of her he loves
E'en to satiety.—Then all will know
What has been done: my father in the end
Will reconcile Alcmena with her husband,
Holding their ancient concord: for Amphitryon
Will make an heavy bustle with his wife,
Accusing her of foul incontinence.—
This strife my father will appease.—And now
As for Alcmena, (for of her as yet
I've said but little,) she'll to-day bring forth
Twin-sons; one born ten months from his conception,
The other sev'n: the one Amphitryon's is,
The other Jupiter's: The younger owns
The greater sire, the elder the inferior.—
D'ye comprehend the mystery?—Yet more,—
So tender is he of Alcmena's honour,
My father has provided these shall both
Be born together, that one painful labour
May serve for both, and that she might not fall
Under suspicion of unchastity,
But their clandestine loves remain conceal'd.
Though as I said, Amphitryon shall know all:—
What then?—There's no one will impute it surely
As scandal to Alcmena: for it would not
Be acting like a God to let the blame
Of his offences light upon a mortal.—
I must stop here,—the door creeks,—and here comes
The counterfeit Amphitryon with his wife
That he has borrow'd.

(Retires from the door.)

SCENE III.

Enter JUPITER and ALCMENA.
Jup.
Farewell, my Alcmena:
Take care of that, in which we both have interest;
And O! be sparing of yourself, I pray you:
You've gone, you know the full time of your reckoning.—
I must away hence of necessity:—
Whatever child is born, you'll bring it up.

Alc.
My lord, what business can it be, that you
Should quit your home so sudden?

Jup.
By my faith
It is not, that I'm wearied or of you,
Or of my home: But when the chief commander
Is absent from his army, 'tis more likely
Things will be done, which help not, than which ought.

Merc.
A crafty cousener he, this sire of mine!
Mind ye—how sweetly does he smooth her o'er!

Alc.
Ah! I do find indeed now by experience,
How much you prize your wife!

Jup.
Is't not enough,
I love her more than any of her sex?

Merc.
Faith; if your wife but know your tricks, I warrant
You'd rather be Amphitryon than high Jove.

Alc.
'Twould please me more to find it than be told so.
You leave me ere the bed, in which you lay,
Could well grow warm: you came at midnight to me;
And now you're gone again.—Say, is this kind?

Merc.
I will approach and speak to her, and second
My father in his wheedling. (To Alcmena.)
Never sure
Did mortal man so doat upon a wife!
He loves you to distraction.

Jup.
Rogue! I know you:—
Out of my sight.—What business is't of your's?
Hang-dog!—how dare you chatter?—If I take
A stick in hand—

Alc.
O don't be in a rage.

Jup.
Do, mutter, sirrah.

Merc.
(Aside.)
This my first attempt
At wheedling has, I find, but ill succeeded.

Jup.
Sweet wife, you ought not to be angry with me
For that which you complain of.—I withdrew
In secret from the army, stole this interview,
That you might be the first to learn from me,
How I succeeded.—I have told you all.—
This, if I had not lov'd you to th'extreme,
I had not done.

Merc.
(Aside.)
So—is't not as I said?
See, how this stroking cheers her!

Jup.
I must now
Return from hence in secret, left the troops
Should scent my absence, when they'll say, that I
Prefer'd my wife before the public good.

Alc.
I cannot chuse but weep for your departure.

Jup.
Come, come, no more bewailings: do not spoil
Those pretty eyes: I shortly shall return.

Alc.
Ah me! that shortly will be all too long.

Jup.
'Tis with reluctance I must leave you here,
And part thus from you.

Alc.
Ay, I do perceive it:
For on the very night you came to me,
On that same you depart.

(Hangs about Jupiter.)
Jup.
Why do you hold me?
'Tis time; and I would leave the city ere
It waxes light.—Alcmena, with this cup
I now present you, giv'n me for my valour,
The same king Pterelas drank from, whom I slew
With my own hand.

Alc.
(Taking the cup.)
Done like your other actions:
As you are always wont to do.—By heavens
A noble gift, and worthy him that gave it!

Merc.
A noble gift indeed, and worthy her
To whom 'tis giv'n!

Jup.
You rascal! what again?
Why don't I put an end to you at once,
And your impertinence?

Alc.
Nay prithee, love,
Do not be angry for him with my sake.

Jup.
Sweet, you shall be obey'd.

Merc.
(Aside.)
How plaguy cross.
His wenching makes him!

Jup.
(Going.)
Would you ought else?

Alc.
This—that you'd love me, though I am away,
Me that am your's still, though you're absent from me.

Merc.
'Tis almost day, Sir: come, Sir, let's be going.

Jup.
Go you before: I'll follow you this instant.
[Exit Mercury.
Would you ought else?

Alc.
Yes, one thing—that you would
Return, and presently.

Jup.
It shall be so:
My presence shall forerun your expectation.
Be of good heart, my love.

[Exit Alcmena.

SCENE IV.

JUPITER
alone.
Now, gentle Night,
Who long for me hast tarried, I dismiss thee;
Yield thee to Day, that he at length may break
On mortals with a clear unclouded light:
And in proportion, Night, as thou wast lengthen'd
Beyond thy next career, by so much Day
Shall shorten his, that the disparity
Betwixt you may be squar'd, and Day to Night
Duly succeed.—I'll go, and follow Mercury.
[Exit Jupiter.