SC [...]NE. I.
Enter Apuleius, with a paire of Ass [...], [...]i [...] [...] [...].
HOw [...]?
Or else how [...]first
Into an [...]? W [...]y [...] [...],
Of [...] ▪ [...] [...]?
I [...]a [...],
Beyond the [...]; [...] [...]
Me thought was formy [...] [...]ll [...]oo [...];
Therefore, I [...]I [...] [...]:
That knowing man who [...] [...] ▪
But pries into [...] [...]
Further then leave; [...] [...]
Ceaseth to be a ma [...] and [...] [...] ▪
And [...]I [...] ▪ [...]
That calls [...]ll [...] [...],
Am once more to my [...] [...],
[Page]With whom my lost soule
[...] [...],
Knowing, of them thou [...]least;
But first Ile shew a [...]of [...] [...],
Of Cupids love to [...], [...] [...] ▪
Ile make thee then [...] [...] ▪
Thy treason [...] [...] [...] ▪
Withall, not onely [...] [...],
But all true [...]are [...] ▪
Mi.
Thou hast [...]with [...], by Pan Ile stay;
But take [...]Poet that your [...]sound,
Else with thine [...]thou [...]be [...].
Ap.
[...]two [...] ▪ [...] [...], there [...]:
Bee you the [...], [...]you [...]
Vnto this [...] [...] ▪
[...].
Recorders. Enter Admetus, [...], [...], [...], Petrea, Psiche.
Ad.
You [...]to [...] [...] [...] ▪
Wee have past the great'st part of our [...];
Listen, oh listen, for these [...] [...] ▪
The aires light [...]
Immortall tunes; tell [...] [...]
At [...] [...]; see the [...] [...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...].
Oh [...]with a most [...] [...]
[Page]To kisse this hallowed earth.
Zelo.
Ladies kneele downe.
Astio.
And sir relate to [...] [...] [...]
Why this religious voyage was [...].
Ad.
Daughters I shall:
Sacred Apollo, god of Archerie,
Of Arts, of Phisicke, and of [...] ▪
[...]
Like [...]flames, [...]a most divine
And dazling splendor on these lesser [...],
Which from [...]guilt [...], [...]thy [...]retires,
Kindle those tapers that [...]to night▪
Oh thou that art the [...]of all light▪
Bridegroome to [...], dayes [...]King▪
To whom Nine Muses in a sacred ring,
In dances sphericall, trip hand in hand,
Whilst thy well-stringed [...]their feet command;
Great Delphian Priest, wee to [...]thy [...]
Have burnt fat thighs of [...] [...],
Whose savor wrap'd in clowds of smoake [...] [...],
To thy Starre-spangled [...] [...];
Tell us who shall [...]the [...] [...]
Of the white-handed [...] [...] [...]
Of three most [...] ▪ it most [...],
All love, but none [...]love will [...]
With nuptiall rights; what must of [...] [...]
Dread [...] tell, to whom shall [...] [...].
Apol.
Cloath [...] in a [...] [...],
Then leade and [...]on [...]hill,
Where [...] [...]their [...] [...] ▪
[Page]Her husband not of Humane race;
But one, whose flaming sight doth kill,
And yet wants eyes; his serpents face
If shee behold, shee must see hell;
And yet by some notorious deede,
Obtaine a Patent from that place
Never to die: Psiche farewell,
Much joy'd, much greev'd; [...]that spell.
Ex. Apollo.
Ad.
Much griev'd, and yet much joy'd, poore girle, I feare
The scale of griefe will weigh downe that of cheere.
Me [...]e.
Shee must see hell; and yet shee neere shall die;
True, for hells torments live eternally.
Asti.
But father, no tongue shall her joyes expresse.
Petre.
Phebus, thy words leave us all comfortlesse.
Psi.
I must espouse a [...]rpent, that's my hell.
Zelo.
But since you never shall behold his face,
Your torments cannot bee too horrible.
Mene.
Is't possible, by deeds impossible
To attaine the Crow [...]e of im [...]ortality:
It cannot bee; Th [...] mocking Ph [...]bus leaves us,
Alwayes in clowds of darkenesse to deceive us.
Ad.
Stay thy prophane [...], least [...]wrath
Strike thee with [...]from his [...] [...]:
Thou must be cloth'd in mourning, so [...] [...] ▪
A mourning habite, and a thought- [...]heart;
Thou must be left alone on Ven [...] hill;
The destinies [...], wee [...]fulfill:
Thy husband must [...]sight▪ and yet have eyes
That flame, and kill; oh leave these misteries
Vntill the Gods [...]them; come, let's hence:
[Page]Change your
Arcadian tunes to
[...] sounds,
Sad [...]are sweetest, where deepe woe confounds.
Exeunt omnes.
Recorders. Enter Venus.
Ven.
Cupid my sonne, where's hee?
Wi [...]hin.
Cup.
Anon-forsooth.
Ven.
Ile gather rods of roses, if yo [...] m [...]ck [...]
With your anon-forsooth.
Wi [...]hin.
Cup.
Anon-forsooth.
Ven.
Shall I be still thus vext? still wh [...]n my blood
Boyles in the fire of anger, then this ape
With purpose frets mee.—Boy.
Enter Cupid.
Cup.
Anon-forsooth.
Ven.
Will Iuno come, or C [...]res? [...]
Cup.
Iuno lay lolling in my Vncles lapp.
Ven.
Which Vncle?
Cup.
Vncle [...]: I laught out-right
To see how (want on-like) with both her [...]
Shee clung about his n [...]cke; gave him ten kisses,
Toy'd with his locks, look'd babies in his eyes,
And [...]shee would not watch him when hee went
Amongst his wenches, if hee'd turn [...] away
His sawcie page, the smooth-fac'd [...];
The boy by chance upon her fan had spilt
A cup of Nectar; oh how Iuno swore:
I told my Aunt I'de give her a new [...],
[Page]To let
[...]oves page be
Cupids seruing-man.
Ven.
What's this to Venus message, what said [...]?
Cu.
I ask'd her when shee'd come, and in good sooth,
shee answered nothing but anon-forsooth.
Ven.
And where was Ceres, what did shee replie?
Cu.
Ceres was binding garlands for God Pan,
Of Blew- [...]ies, and yellow Pi [...]beds
That grew amongst the Wheate, with which she crown'd
His forked browes, and woed him with his horne
To rouze the [...]kipping Satirs, to goe hunt
A heard of swine that rooted up her come:
I ask'd her wh [...] shee'd come, and in good sooth
Shee sent me packing with anon forsooth.
Ven.
I sent for Pan, and for Apollo too,
What news from them?
Cu.
They said they would bee heere immediately.
Enter Pan, and Apollo.
Apo.
Why in such haste hath Venus sent for us?
Ven.
I sent for Iuno, and for Ceres too,
But they'le not come.
Pan.
Well, what's the news with you?
Ven.
Have you not heard how Venus is contemn'd?
Her Temples gaz'd at, but not tro [...]d upon,
Her stately hangings, and her pillowes torne;
Those rosie garlands that her [...]es crown'd,
Are wither'd, or else trampled on the ground;
Those troopes that flock'd to Paphos to adore mee,
Shun Paphos now, and scornefully abhorre mee.
[...].
[Page]That's strange, for all [...]up to [...]in love▪
Boyes without beards get boyes, [...] [...],
Fine little rattle-babies, [...]thus high,
Are now call'd wives; If long this hot [...] [...],
Wee shall have all the earth turne [...].
Ven.
All honour Love, but none adore Loves Queene.
Apol.
The injury i [...] [...]; but [...]it?
Ven.
From Psiche daughter to [...] [...] King;
They call her Queene of Love, will [...]other,
And sweare my Sonne shall [...]and call her mother.
Cup.
But Cupid sweares to make the jacks forsworne.
Apol.
Will [...] swallow this disgrace?
[...].
What shall Pan doe in this?
Ven.
Lend me your ayds:
If you meete [...], charge young [...]
To send mee to her, or Impri [...]on her
Till you have sent [...]word.
Apol.
If this be all, [...] shall [...]her wish.
[...].
Pan by his vpright hornes and beard doth sweare
To hunt out [...]; but if I doe this,
What will sweete Venus give [...]?
Ven.
A sweete kisse;
And Phebus shall have one, [...] another,
Vpon condition they will right those [...]
Which Psiche in her great pride throwes oh [...]:
Draw from thy quiver a dull [...] [...],
And stricke it through her [...]to her heart;
Make her in Love, but let her proud eyes doate
On some ill-shapen [...], some ugly [...]:
Doe this; Ile weave for thee a [...]
[Page]Of Roses, mixt with
[...]haire;
And give thee my best [...], and my Doves
To hunt with on the earth; or in the ayre;
Wilt thou doe this my boy?
Cup.
I will forsooth.
Ven.
Nay doe not mock mee, wilt thou?
Cup.
Yes indeede, Indeede I will forsooth.
Ven.
Sweete lad [...]then▪
Apollo, Pan, revenge poore Venus [...],
Whil st I [...]my siluer coloured teame,
To wanton on the bosome of yo [...] streame.
Exit.
Apol.
Now shee hath [...]all'd me downe unto the earth,
Ile try what pastimes dwell amongst the swaines.
Exit.
Pan.
And with my Satires I will have some sport
Heere in the [...] vaslyes.
Exit.
Cup.
Shall Psiches beautious eyes gaze on base love?
Noe, let my Mother storme, and [...]and lower,
Shee shall be none but Cupids Paramoure:
Enter Zephirus.
Ho Zephirus,—how now thou puffing slave,
Art thou growne proud, thou swell'st so? Gentle winde,
Clap on thy smoothest feathers, [...]wings,
And mount thee to the top of yonder rocke,
There shalt thou find anon, a forlorne [...],
Conuey her gently downe into the vaile
That borders on my bower; [...]this perform'd,
And I will cloath thee in a grafse-greene roabe,
Spotted with Dasies, Pincks, and Marigolds;
Ile play the thiefe in [...] treasurie,
To [...]all eyes in love with Zephirus;
[Page] [...]hence, doe this, and henceforth be thou King
Of all the W [...]ndes, and father of the Spring.
[...].
Enter Admetus, Menetius, Zelotis, Astioche, Petrea, Psiche.
Ad.
Behold the foote of that unhappy rocke,
Vpon whose frozen top, by Phebus [...],
Thou must abide thy most sinister hap.
Astio.
Deare sister [...].
Psi.
Peace Astioche,
Petrea, Father: you should all have mourn'd
When the mad spirits of the multitude
Kneel'd downe, and call'd mee [...], then have wept,
When Cithareas Altars were left bare▪
And I was call'd a goddesse; when these teares,
Whose [...]makes my funerall lights burne dimme,
Might have quench'd Venus wrath; but leave mee now
To fight with death, or [...]worse misery.
Mene.
But lurkes that serpent in this [...]rocke?
Pet.
So said Apollo.
Zelo.
Then Menetius,
Wee will conduct faire Psich [...] to the cave,
And rip the monsters intrailes with our sword [...].
Psi.
Forbeare all force, I will ascend alo [...]e▪
Phebus will be displeas'd; Alone said hee,
Distressed Psiche shall climbe up yon hill.
Ad.
The way is dangerous, thou wilt loose thy selfe
Without a guide.
If thus I talke to them,—Who fills this wine,
And tempts my eye with it? as who should say,
Drinke Psiche.
Eccho.
Drinke P [...]iche. 2. Drinke Psiche. 3. Drinke Psiche,
Psi.
Ile taste no drop of this inchanted wine:
Faine from this magick [...]would I rise,
Y [...] dare not; oh let Psiche see your eyes,
Or rid me hence, and set my feares in peace.
Ecch.
Peace. 2. Peace. 3. Peace.
Enter Cupid.
Cup.
How lovely is my Psiche; earth's too base
To be possest of her Celestiall forme:
My Mother hates her; for the gods I feare
Would banish her from earth, my Love being there;
And therefore shall shee live in C [...]pids Bower,
For shee [...]to bee Loves Paramoure:
Oh how my faire eyes wound mee; by this kisse,
And this white hand.
Psi.
Oh mee! what voice is this
I [...]? besides, soft fingers, and a ring.
Cup.
Long white fingers; soft white hand,
Ring and all at thy command.
Psi.
Is this my husband then?
Cup.
Ho Zephirus,
Remove hence these Ambrosian dishes straight.
Zephirus takes off the Banquet.
Psi.
My father much mist [...]ke the Oracle;
[Page]To this sweete voice, could I enjoy the sight,
I should my selfe then stile Queene of delight.
Cup.
Pleasure shall bee thy lackie; wilt thou hunt,
Then in an ayerie charriot drawne by birds,
On the winds downie backe my love shall ride;
Mild Zephirus shall be thy Waggoner;
Who if the heate offend, his [...]wings
Shall fan coole ayre upon thee, yet my love,
If thou commit'st one sinne, thou art not mine.
Psi.
Name it, and Ile avoid it for your sake.
Cu.
Thy mourning sisters shortly will returne,
And seeke thee on the rocke from whence thou cam'st,
But shun their sight and speech; Psiche doe this,
Thou rob'st mee else of Love, thy selfe of blisse.
Psi.
Not speake nor see my sisters; oh what pleasure
Can Psiche take, lock't in a golden Iayle?
Cup.
Runne not unto thy ruine gentle love;
Yet if thou needs wilt see and [...]with them,
Command my [...] Zephirus to bring them
From top of yonder rocke into this vaile;
But if they make inquiry who I am,
Fill both their laps with gold, and send them gon▪
Besides I woe thee by this nuptiall [...],
Doe not perswade me to disclose my shape,
Attempting that, thon loosest this high state;
I then must leave thee, thou live desolate.
Psi.
In all these things, I will obey my love.
Cup.
Then Psiche, in thine un [...]ene husbands hand
Claspe thy white fingers; Ile now [...]thy bed
With the sweete spoiles of thy lost Maiden-head.
Exeunt.
Ap.
That Midas, is thy brother,
A piece of mooving earth, illiterate, dull;
Who having in himselfe naught commendable,
Enuies what's good in others; and yet dare
In his owne impudence, with Arts compare:
A blocke, a stone, yet learning hee'le revile,
And a dull Ignorant Asse wee will him stile.
Mi.
But where's your Poet Asse among all these?
Dance and Exit.
Ap.
Ther's no such creature.
Mi.
Then what call'st thou those
That let not men lie quiet in their graves,
But hant their ghosts with ballatts, and bal'd rimes?
Doe they not teach the very feinds in hill
Speake in blanke verse; doe wee not daily see
Every dull-witted Asse spit Poetrie:
And for thy Scene; thou bring'st heere on the stage
A young greene-sicknesse baggage to run after
A little ape-fac'd boy thou tearm'st a god;
Is not this most absur'd?
Ap.
Mis-understanding foole, thus much conceive,
Psiche is Anima, Psiche is the Soule,
The Soule a Virgin, longs to be a bride,
The soule's Immortall, whom then can shee wooe
But Heaven? whom wed, but Immortality:
Oh blame not Psiche then, if mad with rage,
Shee long for this so divine marriage.
Mid.
But tell mee then, why should Apollo say,
All love her, and yet none will marry her.
Ap.
[Page]All love faire Psiche, all cast amorous eyes
On the soules beautie, but who is't will wed her?
None with the sou'e will leade so strict a life
As heaven enjoynes, with such a blessed wife.
Mi.
Thou promp'st my understanding pretty well;
But why should Venus being Queene of Love,
Wish her sonne Cupid to enamour her
On some base groome mis-shapen, and deform'd?
Ap.
By Venus heere, is meant untemperate lust;
Lust woes her sonne Desire, to inflame the soule
With some base groome, that's to some ugly sinne;
Desire is good and ill; the evill swear [...]s
To obay his mother Venus, and vexe Psiche:
But Cupid representing true desire,
Doates on the Soules sweete beauty, sends his scruant
Zephirus; In whom, Celestiall pleasur's meant,
To entice his love, the Soule, to his chast bed,
Giving her heaven for her lo [...]t maiden-head.
Mi.
Onely one riddle more, and I have done;
Why did the poore girle Psiche take such paines?
What scrambling shift shee made to climbe the mountaine,
And crawle through brakes and briers to get a husband.
Ap.
This shewes how many strong adversities,
Crosses, Pricks, Thornes, and stings of conscience,
Would throw the ambitious soule affecting heaven,
Into dispaire, and fainting diffidence,
Which Psiche must passe through; the Soule must [...]
Through thousand letts, to [...]eternitie.
Mi.
Thou hast made this somewhat plaine.
Ap.
Kind Gentlemen,
[Page]Long flaxen curled tresses crowne his head.
Come, come, you shall not be enamored
On my faire husband; this for all suffice,
Hee's young and rich.
Asti.
Oh how my blood doth ri [...]
In enuy of her high felicitie; speake, what's his name?
Psi.
Home, Home; more musicke there, I must to r [...]st:
Recorders. Enter Zephirus with baggs.
Ho Zephirus, come foorth, and bring mee brim-full baggs of gold:
Hold up your lapps; tho'them you cannot see
That bring this gold, this larges take from mee;
Adien, adeiu: my duty to the King,
I needs must stop mine eares when Syrens sing.
Exit.
Petr.
Astioche.
Asti.
Petrea, oh, I am mad to note her pride;
Her husband is no serpent as 'twas said,
And false Apollo sung; hee is some god,
And this his Temple, for no mortall hand
Hath laid these Christiall pavements, cloath'd these meades
In never-faiding liveries of greene;
Flora you see cloathes all the ground with flowers,
Flora is Psiches hand-maid; Zephirus
Is but her foote-boy, lackeys at her becke.
Petr.
Yet shee's our sister, and it doth mee good
To see rich worth in any of our blood.
Asti.
Thou art a foole Petrea, for I hate
That any's fortune should transcend my state;
Shee sends us hence in scorne, but wee'le returne,
And never cease, till by some treachery,
Her prid wee make a slave to misery.
Excunt.
[Page]Enter
Admetus, Menetius, and
Zelotis, Mene.
Patience great sir, you have not lost them all,
Doubtlesse the two last live.
Zelo.
Sir though they be your daughters, th'are our wives,
And wee are in no such despaire of them.
Ad.
Admit you were one for Astioche,
And that another for Petrea wept,
You two, but for two wives shed husbands teares;
For you and them, I sorrow all: your feares
Devided betwixt you; on me alone,
Lies like a mountaine, and thus casteth downe
Admetus wretched body, with his crowne;
They followed Psiche and her [...],
[...]ath given them death, us living misery.
Enter Evemore.
Eve.
Rise Royall Sir, your Daughters are return'd.
Ad.
Oh where, which way; are my two daughters come?
Eve.
Yes sir, and both their lapps are fill'd with gold.
Enter Astioche and Petrea.
Ad.
Wellcome to both in one; oh can you tell
What fate your sister hath?
Both.
Psiche is well.
Ad.
So among mortalls, it is often sed,
Children and friends are well, when they are dead.
Astio.
But Psiche lives, and on her breath attends.
[Page]Delights that farre surmount all earthly joy;
Musicke, sweete voyces, and Ambrosian fare,
Windes, and the light-wing'd creatures of the ayre;
Cleere channel'd rivers, springs, and flowrie meades,
Are proud when [...] wa [...]tons on their streames,
When Psiche on their rich Imbroidery treades,
When Psiche guilds their Christall with her beames;
Wee have but seene our sister; and behold
She sends us with our lapps full brimm'd with gold.
Adm.
Oh, you amaze me Daughters.
Pet.
Let joy banish amazement from your Kingly thoug [...]
Psiche is wedded to some [...],
And prayes withall, our [...]returne againe.
Ad.
VVee grant it; wee with you and these, will goe
To Psiches bowre; desire inflames my minde,
To sit on the bright wings of that blest winde.
Asti.
Oh but the god that governes Psiches thoughts;
For sure hee is Immortall; charg'd my sister
To talke with none but us.
Petr.
Yet by the [...]of our tongues wee'le try
If wee can win you so much libertie.
Ad.
[...]my Astioche, but come againe
To comfort him that must thy want complaine;
Goe with my love Petrea, but returne
VVith winged speede, whil'st [...]your absence mourne;
Goe with my blessing; blest those sisters bee,
That live like you in bonds of unitie:
Give Psiche this; give her thou this Petrea,
Tell her shee is my selfe, my soules Idea,
And say, whil'st shee is spotlesse, lovely white,
Kisseth them.
[Page] [...]shall bee my
[...] [...] with [...]
Enter Clowne, with three or foure Swaines.
Clo.
And what might you call that yong gentleman, that rules and raignes, [...] of [...] from your [...]ocks and leaves you [...] in your heads then in your sheepe-hookes? What might you call this gallant?
1. Swa.
[...]
2. Swa.
[...]
Clo.
Cupid Coxcombe: your Satyrs are all sots, your Fawnes fooles, and your Pan a [...]; had I [...] I know not what I [...] I would [...]
[...]. Swa.
They [...]
Clo.
[...] and how lies hee?where's his guard? what's his play? Can any of you [...] [...] me his [...]title
[...]. Swa.
Not I [...]
Clo.
Then harken oh you [...] oh you [...]whil'st I give you his [...] Hee is King of cares, [...] Prince of [...] Duke of disasters, dissemblers, [...] [Page] and mad-folkes▪ grand [...]of griefes, and grones; Lord of lamentations, Heroe of hi [...]- [...]of [...] and Mounsier of mutton-lac'd.
2. Swaine.
Heere's a stile I shall never bee able to get over.
Cl [...].
And who doe yo [...] thinke maintaines this princox in his [...]?
1. [...].
Nay, it [...]my [...] ▪
Clo.
A company of [...] [...] ▪ did you never heare of one Homer, and [...]the Tale of Tr [...]y, and of a te [...] yeeres [...], and many [...] [...].
2. Swa.
[...], and many [...] [...].
Clowne.
But heare [...], [...] ▪ This Troy was a [...] [...]ome [...] [...]; and [...], as silly a fellow as I [...], [...]loving to play the good fellow, h [...]e had a great many bowsing [...]; whom [...]called sonnes.
3. [...].
As [...]have [...] [...].
[...].
Iust the same; by this Troy [...]anne a [...] [...], that one might stride over; on the other [...] [...] a Farmer, who had a light wench to his Wife call'd Hellen, that kept his sheepe, whom Paris, one of [...] mad lads, s [...]eing and liking, ticeth over the brooke, and lies with her i [...] despight of her husbands teeth; for which wrong, [...]for one [...] his [...], [...]was then high [...]of the hundred, and complaynes to him: hee sends to one Vlisses, a faire spoken fellow, and Towne-clarke, and to divers others, amongst whom was one [...]fellow called Ajax, a Butcher, who upon a Holy-day, brings a payre of [...], and layes them downe in the mid'st, where the [Page] Two Hundred [...] were [...] [...], [...] [...] a [...], [...]bould lad of the other side [...], steps [...], and takes them up; these two had a bowte or two [...]a broken pate; And heere was all the circumstance of the Trojan Warres.
1. Swa.
To see what these Poets can doe.
Clowne.
But listen to them, and they will fill your heads with a thousand [...]; obserue one thing, there's none of you all sooner in [...], [...]is troubled with their itch, for hee will bee in his Amorets, and his Canzonets, his Pastoralls, and his Madrigalls, to his Phillis, and his Amorillis.
1. Swa.
Oh beautious [...].
Clo.
And what's Amorillis thinkst thou?
1. Swa,
A faire and lovely creature.
Clo.
Ile shew thee the contrary by her owne name, Amor is love, illis, is ill; is ill, cannot bee good; Ergo [...] is starke naught; let one or two examples serue for more, there's one of our fayrest Nimphes called Susanna; what is Susanna, but Sus and [...], which is [...]plaine Arcadia, Nan is a Sow.
2. Swa.
Well, you have taught us more then [...]ver I understood before, concerning Poetrie.
Clowne.
Come to mee but one howre in a morning, and Ile reade deeper Philosiophie to you; good-morrow Neighbors; Poets, quoth a; What's Titule tu patule, but Titles and Pages; What's Propria que maribu [...], but a Propper man loves Mary-bons, or Feminno generi [...], but the Feminine Gender is troublesome; what's Ovid, but quasi avoide; now should I be in love, with whom? with Doll, what's that but [Page] [...] [...], [...] [...], [...]black-pot, or what's [...]for [...] poste: no Cupid▪ [...]and all thy [...].
Enter Cupid.
Cup.
What's hee that [...]o [...]our [...]?
And scornes that power which all the gods adore;
To whom Iove some-times bends, and Neptune kneeles,
Mars homageth, and Phebus will submit,
Slie Mercury obay, and Vulcan bow too;
And all the rurall gods and goddesses,
Saytirs and Nimphes, allow their soveraigne;
Hee shall not scape unpunished.
Clo.
If I could but find one of these fantasticall Poet [...], or light upon that little god their Patron, I would so tickl [...] them.
Cup.
This hobinall, this rusticke, this base clowne;
I find him of a dull and braine-lesse eye,
Such as I know a golden-headed shaft
Will never enter; of a skinne so thicke,
As pointed siluer hath no power to pierce:
For such grosse fooles, I have a boult in store,
Which though it cannot wound, shall give a blow,
To startle all within him.
Shootes.
Clo.
Oh me, hey-hoe.
Cup..
Lie there base Midas bastard, that refuses
All-honour'd love, and rayl'st against the Muses.
Exit.
Clo.
Oh coward, whatsoere thou art, to come behind a man [Page] and strikehim before, [...]I saw nobody—to [...] ▪ [...]never give a man warning, oh coward, I am payd, I am p [...]pper'd; the case is alter'd, for any one may [...] [...]y th [...] hugenesse of the blow, that I [...]in love; ay—me, that any wench were heere, whose name is [...]I be in love with any madge, though she were an Howlet, [...]with any mayd, though she look't like a Malkin; Oh Poetry, I find that I am poyson'd with thee too; for me-thinks I could [...]my prayers in blanke-verse, nay let me see, I thinke I [...]rime for a neede;
Cupid I [...], since so I know thy [...],
And Ile goe [...]me out so [...]e [...] ▪
Exit.
Enter Psiche alone.
Psi.
There's at this time a combat in my soule,
Whether to trust my well-knowne sisters better,
Or my yet unseene husband; I have asked,
Demanded, and enquired of all my [...],
This fairy-traine that hourely [...]on mee,
Yet none of them will tell mee what hee is▪
Enter Cupid.
Besides, this sollitude to be alone,
Begins to grow most tedious, and my [...]eares
Doe every way distract mee.
Cup.
Why how now Psiche?
Psi.
Oh let Mercies eyes
Shine on my fault.
Cup.
Are these thy heaven-bound vowes?
Are all thy protestations guilded ayre?
[Page]Hast thou no more regard to my command,
Or thine owne safety?
Psi.
Deare love pardon mee.
Cup.
Once more I doe; and still must pardon thee,
And thou must still offend, still torture mee;
Yet once againe Ile try thy constancy:
Thy [...]isters are at hand.
Psi.
But gentle Love,
Shall I not speake to them?
Cup.
Yes, but I woe thee
To send them quickly hence, or they'le undoe thee;
They n [...]w are at the Rock, bid the coole winde
To pl [...]ase thee, bring them to the place assign'd.
Exit.
Enter Zephirus with the two Sisters.
Psi.
Ho Zephirus,
Tell [...]e the cause of your so quicke returne?
Asti.
Psiche wee come with danger of our lives,
To save our sister from ensuing harme.
Psi.
What harme? What danger?
Asti.
Danger eminent,
Once you refused our Counsell, and deni'd
To let us know your husband, or his name.
Petr.
Come, let's see him.
Psi.
Oh, what shall I doe?
Petr.
Escape the danger you are fall'n in [...].
Psi.
You cannot see him.
Asti.
Give us then his shape?
Psi.
[Page]His shape, why hee's a man whose [...]owie head
Bowes on his [...], through the [...]of age.
Asti.
That cannot bee; you [...]hee was a youth
Of comely stature, with long [...] [...].
Psi.
I am entr [...]p'd.
Asti.
Speake, did you ever see your husband?
Psi.
Why doe you aske, pray trouble me no more;
Leave me, and I will fill your lapps with gold.
Asti.
Once thy gold [...]empted us to leave this [...],
And to betray thy life to misery,
It shall not now; did not Appollo doome
Thy fatall marriage to some hiddeous beast;
How just is Phebus in his aug [...]ies;
Last night, when wee went [...]laden with gold,
Wee spide a serpent gliding on the meade,
Who at the sight of us, writhing his head
Proudly into the ayre, first hist at heaven,
Because it did not shade him from our eyes.
Psi.
How did that serpent vanish from your sight?
Asti.
In at these gates hee rowld, Psiche be wise,
For tho' a while hee dally with thy beauty,
Dulling thy taste with sweetes, thy eyes with shewes,
Thy eares with musicke, and sweete lullabies▪
Hee will in time devoure thee.
Psi.
Miserable wretch,
How shall I flie the fate that follows mee?
Whose helpe shall I inuoke?
Petr.
Tell us the trueth,
And wee'le devise some meanes to succour thee.
Psi.
You are my sisters, I confesse to you,
[Page]I never saw his
[...], know not his
[...] ▪
Yet have I [...] [...], [...]his [...]
Oft have I [...]oft [...] [...] ▪
Eyes, hands, lipps, [...] touch,
That I have sworne, save his, there were none such,
Yet your strang [...] story makes mee to suspect
That hee's some [...], for hee tells me still,
To see his glorious shape, will [...]mee▪
Besides [...]bids [...]your [...],
Eise you will breede my sorrow; this is that
Which troubles mee.
Asti.
Heare then my counsell; Instantly provide
A keene-edg'd raysor, and a [...] [...] ▪
At night, when [...]on [...]eyes,
Steale from his speckled side, [...]to [...]light,
And without feare behold his horrid shape,
And with the raysor cut his [...]throate;
And so by death gaine life, and hee being dead,
Psiche shall [...]some King be m [...]rried.
Petr.
How doth our sister relish this devise?
Psi.
I doe embrace your councell, and this night
Ile put the same in execution;
Come, you have made mee resolute and bould,
And now receive your lapps ore-swell'd with gold.
Exit.
Asti.
Swell in thy pride, untill thou break'st thy heart,
Yet come, wee'le take her larges ere wee part.
Exit.
Enter Midas and Apuleius.
Mi.
Poet no more; I have enough of Psiche;
[Page]Her sisters and the serpent, all of them
Most villanous [...], Ile [...] [...], [...] [...]
To please my selfe, and keepe [...] [...],
Thou'lt let mee shew thee [...]of our [...]sport,
Such as wee use heere in Arcadia,
I will endure no longer.
Ap.
Well, I am pleas'd.
Mi.
Ile shew thee in a [...].
Ap.
Art some-times must give way to [...].
A DANCE.
Enter Pan, Clowne, Swaines, and Countrey-wenches; They Dance, and Exit.
Mi.
Was not this sport indeede?
Ap.
My modestie gives thee no reprehension,
For I am well pleased with your P [...]orall mirth,
But as thou had'st a power over mine eyes,
To sit it out with patience; so lend mee
Thy atentive [...]ates.
Mi.
[...]cleere thy obsurdities,
Nay, grose ones too; heere Psiche lyes abominably,
And sayes shee has two husbands, the one young,
The other old: How [...]thou answere this?
Ap.
Though thy vaine doubts be most familiar
To these Iudicious hearers, well experenc'd,
As well in matters Morrall as Divine;
To thee Ile make it plaine.
Mi.
[Page]I prethee doe.
Ap.
Did Psiche lie to say shee had two loves?
How like art thou to Psiche, shee to thee.
Mi.
To me, I s [...]orne her likenesse.
Ap.
In this poynt thou art,
For rath [...]r then thy sisters shall grow angry,
To make earths drossie pleasures stay for thee,
Thou wilt exclaime with Psiche, Cupids young;
The joyes of heaven are all too young, too little
To be believ'd or look'd at; if that faile,
Thou with the soule wil't say, my love is old,
Divine delights are crooked like old age,
Who will not vow, speake, nay sweare any thing,
To have their vaine delights seru'd like a king.
Mi.
'Tis prety, but your Ecchoes pleas'd me best;
Oh if a man had seene them.
Ap.
With a mortall eye none can; in them is hid this mistery;
Caelestiall raptures, that to allure the sight,
Are seene no more then voices being on high,
Subject unto no weake, and fleshly eye.
Mi.
But why did Cupid hide himselfe from Psiche?
Ap.
Oh who dares prie into those misteries,
That heaven would have conceal'd; for this shee's charg'd
Not to see Cupids face, to shun her sisters.
Mi.
Those gadding girles, what did'ft thou meane by them?
Ap.
The restlesse sinnes that travell night and day,
Enuying her blisse, the sweete soule to betray.
Mi.
Well, by this little I conceive the rest,
I care not greately if I stay it out,
But if not lik't, Ile either sleepe or flowte.
Alp.
[Page]So will not these I hop [...], before they view
What hor [...]d dangers Cupids bride purfue.
Exeu [...].