Jugg, jugg, jugg, terue she cries, [The cuckoo is heard. Ha, ha! hark, hark! the cuckoos sing Cuckoo! to welcome in the Spring. Brave prick-song! who is 't now we hear? How at heaven's gate she claps her wings, [The cuckoo again. Ha, ha! hark, hark! the cuckoos sing Cuckoo! to welcome in the Spring. Spring. How does my sun-born sweetheart like his queen, Her court, her train? Ray. Wondrous; such ne'er were seen. Health. Fresher and fresher pastimes! one delight Is a disease to th' wanton appetite. Del. Music, take Echo's voice, and dance quick rounds To thine own times in repercussive sounds. [An echo of cornets. Spring. Enough! I will not weary thee. Pleasures, change! Thou as the Sun in a free zodiac range. Re-enter DELIGHT. [Exit DEL. Del. A company of rural fellows, faced1 Like lovers of your laws, beg to be graced Before your highness, to present their sport. Spring. What is 't? Del. A morris. 1 A company of rural fellows, faced Like lovers of your laws,] i. e. with youthful, ruddy, cheerful countenances.-GIFFORD. Spring. Give them our court. Stay, these dull birds may make thee stop thine ear; Take thou my lightning, none but laurel here Shall 'scape thy blasting: whom thou wilt confound, Smite; let those stand, who in thy choice sit crown'd. Ray. Let these then, I may surfeit else on sweets; Sound sleeps do not still lie in princes' sheets. Spring. Beckon the rurals in; the country-gray Seldom ploughs treason: shouldst thou be stol'n away By great ones,-that's my fear. Ray. Fear it not, lady; Should all the world's black sorceries be laid Enter the MORRIS-DANCERS. To blow me hence, I move not. Spring. I am made In that word the earth's empress. A DANCE. Are not these sports too rustic? Spring. My youngest girl, the violet-breathing Being told by Flora that my love dwelt here, To honour her arrival? Ray. I shall attend. Spring. On then,-[Exeunt Morris-dancers.]—and bid my rosy-finger'd May Rob hills and dales, with sweets to strew his way. [Exit, followed by YOUTH and HEALTH. Enter FOLLY, and whispers RAYBRIGHT. Ray. An empress, sayst thou, fall'n in love with me? Fol. She's a great woman, and all great women love to be empresses; her name, the lady Humour. Ray. Strange name! I never saw her, knew her not; What kind of creature is she? Fol. Creature! of a skin soft as pomatum, sleek as jelly, white as blanched almonds; breath, sweet as a monkey's; lips of cherries, teeth of pearl, eyes of diamond, foot and leg as Ray. My admiration wastes itself in longings Should day last ever, 't would be loath'd as night; Fol. Look you, I do but wind this cornet, and if another answer it, she comes. Ray. Be quick then! [FOLLY winds his cornet, and is answered from without. Enter HUMOUR, followed by a Soldier, a Spaniard, an Italian dancer, and a French tailor. Hum. Is this that flower the Spring so dotes upon? Fol. This is that honeysuckle she sticks in her ruff. Hum. A bedfellow for a fairy! Ray. Admired perfection, You set my praises to so high a tune, My merits cannot reach them. Hum. My heartstrings shall then, [Aside. As mine eye gives that sentence on thy person, That judge to save thee would condemn a world, Sent up in flattering incense to the Sun, Whole choirs of singers to her every morn, Ray. The rose-lipp'd dawning Is not so melting, so delicious: Fol. A ring-tail. Hum. Thou shalt be turn'd to nothing but to mine, My mine of pleasures, which no hand shall rifle But this, which in warm nectar bathes the palm. Invent some other tires! Music!-stay,-none ! Fol. Heyday! Hum. New gowns, fresh fashions! I'm not brave enough To make thee wonder at me. Ray. Not the moon, Riding at midnight in her crystal chariot, Is half so glorious. Hum. This feather was a bird of Paradise; Shall it be yours? Ray. No kingdom buys it from me. Fol. Being in fool's paradise he must not lose his bauble. Ray. I am rapt above man's being, in being sphered In such a globe of rarities; but say, lady, Hum. All my attendants Shall be to thee sworn servants. Fol. Folly is sworn to him already never to leave him. Ray. He? Fol. A French gentleman, that trails a Spanish pike;' a tailor. 1 Spanish pike,] i. e. a needle. Our best sword-blades, scissors, needles, &c. were, in the poet's days, imported from Spain.-GIFFORD. Ray. Shall I be brave, then? Hum. Golden as the Sun. Ray. What's he that looks so smickly?1 Fol. One that loves mutton so well, he always carries capers about him; his brains lie in his legs, and his legs serve him to no other use than to do tricks, as if he had bought them of a juggler. He's an Italian dancer. Ray. This now? Fol. A most sweet Spaniard, a comfit-maker, of Toledo, that can teach sugar to slip down your throat a million of ways. Ray. My palate pleased too! What's this last? Sold. I am a gun that can roar, two stilettoes in one sheath; I can fight and bounce too. My lady, by me, presents this sword and belt to you. Ray. Incomparable mistress! Hum. Put them on. Sold. I'll drill you how to give the lie, and stab in the punto; if you dare not fight, then how to vamp2 a rotten quarrel without ado. Ray. How dare not fight! there's in me the Sun's fire. Hum. No more of this:-[dances.]-awake the music! oyez ! Music! Ray. No more of this;--this sword arms me for battle. Hum. Come then, let thou and I rise up in arms; The field, embraces; kisses, our alarms. [Music.-A dance. Re-enter SPRING, HEALTH, Youth, Delight. Spring. Oh, thou enticing strumpet! how durst thou Throw thy voluptuous spells about a temple Hum. Poor Spring, goody herb-wife! 1 i. e. so finically, so effeminately. 2 i. e, to patch up a quarrel. |