a dog, a cur, a mongrel? bow wow! do thy worst, I defy thee. Out on Time, I care not; Mirth and youth are plotters: Though I die in totters.1 [Sings. Go, mend thyself, cannibal! 't is not without need ; I am sure the times were never more beggarly and proud; waiting-women flaunt it in cast-suits, and their ladies fall for 'em; knaves over-brave wise men, while wise men stand with cap and knee to fools.— Pitiful Time! pitiful Time! Time. Out, foul, prodigious, and abortive birth! Behold the sandglass of thy days is broke. Fol. Bring me another; I'll shatter that too. The circuit of thy life in ceaseless riots: Vouchsafes to illuminate with his bright beams. Fol. In any court, father bald-pate, where my grannam the Moon shows her horns. I'll live here and laugh at the bravery of ignorance, maugre thy abominable beard. Time. Priest of the Sun, 't is near about the minute Thy patron will descend; scourge hence this trifle : Time is ne'er lost, till, in the common schools Of impudence, time meets with wilful fools. Ray. Pray, sir, what are you? [Exit. 1 Though I die in totters,] i. e. tatters. So the word was usually written by our dramatists.-GIFFORD. Fol. No matter what; what are you? Ray. Not as you are, I thank my better fates; I am grandchild to the Sun. Fol. And I am cousin-german, some two or three hundred removes off, to the Moon, and my name is Folly. Ray. Folly, sir! of what quality? Fol. Quality! any quality in fashion; drinking, singing, dancing, dicing, swearing, roaring, lying, cogging, canting, et cetera. Will you have any more? Ray. You have a merry heart, if you can guide it. Fol. Yes, 'faith; so, so: I laugh not at those whom I fear, I fear not those whom I love; and I love not any whom I laugh not at: pretty strange humour is 't not? Ray. To any one that knows you not, it is. Fol. Away, away! I have no such meaning, indeed, la! [Music of Recorders. Priest. Hark! the fair hour is come; draw to the altar, And, with amazement, reverence, and comfort, Behold the broad-eyed lamp of heaven descending! Stand! The SUN appears above. Sun. Raybright! Priest. It calls you; answer. Ray. Lord and father! Sun. We know thy cares; appear to give release: Boldly make thy demands, for we will please To grant whate'er thou su'st for. Ray. Fair-beam'd sir! I dare not greedily prefer Eternity of Earth's delights, Before that duty which invites My filial piety; in this Your love shall perfect my heart's bliss, If I but for one only year, Enjoy the several pleasures here, Which every season in his kind Can bless a mortal with. Sun. I find Thy reason breeds thy appetite, and grant it Be subject to his will. Priest. Light's lord! we go. [Exeunt PRIEST and RAYBRIGHT. Fol. And I will follow, that am not in love with such fopperies. [Exit. Sun. We must descend, and leave awhile our sphere, To greet the world.-Ha! there does now appear As if their friendly lights would darken mine: 1 We must descend, &c.] The "sphere" in which the "lord of lightTM appeared was probably a creaking throne which overlooked the curtain at the back of the stage; from this he probably descended to the raised platform. Besides his robe, flammas imitante pyropo, his solar majesty was probably distinguished by a tiara, or rayed coronet,-but this is no subject for light merriment. Whatever his SHAPE might be, his address to the audience of the Cockpit is graceful, elegant, and poetical. I believe it to be the composition of Decker.-GIFFORD. There can be little hesitation in assenting to this opinion of Mr. Gifford. The talents of Decker sank beneath the mightier genius of Jonson, with whom he had rashly put himself in competition; and hence it has become the fashion to think meanly of his abilities, which were unquestionably great. Few, indeed, of his contemporaries had in them more of the elements of a sprightly, elegant, and poetical genius than Decker; but his necessities were ever at war with his talents; and hence none of his compositions exhibit that tone of sustained vigour and finer finish, which more leisure and happier fortunes would undoubtedly have given them. Shall strive to please: I have the foremost tract; [The SUN disappears. ACT II. SCENE I. The Garden of SPRING. Enter SPRING, RAYBRIGHT, YOUTH, HEALTH, and DELIGHT. Spring. Welcome! The mother of the year, the That mother, on whose back Age ne'er can sit, That Spring, on thy fair cheeks, in kisses lays name, RAYBRIGHT, as bright in person as in fame! Ray. Your eyes amazed me first, but now mine ears Feel your tongue's charm; in you move all the spheres. Oh, lady! would the Sun, which gave me life, Had never sent me to you! Spring. Why? all my veins Shrink up, as if cold Winter were come back, Ray. Round about me A firmament of such full blessings shine, I, in your sphere, seem a star more divine, Than in my father's chariot, should I ride Spring. Oh, that sweet breath revives me; if thou never Part'st hence (as part thou shalt not), be happy ever! Ray. I know I shall. Spring. Thou, to buy whose state Kings would lay down their crowns, fresh Youth,wait, I charge thee, on my darling. Youth. Madam, I shall, And on his smooth cheek such sweet roses set, Are slaves and wretches, Health! that canst nor be sold Nor bought, I charge thee make his heart a tower Guarded, for there lies the Spring's paramour. Health. One of my hands is writing still in Heaven, The five nice senses dance; thou, that dost spin SONG by DELIGHT. What bird so sings, yet so does wail?1 1 What bird, &c.] This is taken from the beautiful song of Trico, in Lily's "Alexander and Campaspe." |