And in the midst, over a stately fountain, Taught Genoa not to serve: then to behold And then again, within The vast prodigious cage, in which the groves The winged quire with a native warble, And pride of their restraint. Then, up and down, Majestic ev'n in ruin.3 And such a glorious palace: Such pictures, carving, furniture! my words Cannot reach half the splendour. And, after all, One while glide amorous, and lick her walls, As who would say, Come Follow; but, repuls'd And crowd into a storm! [Act iii., Sc. 1.'] THE FLOATING ISLAND. A COMEDY. BY THE REV. W. STRODE [1602-1645]. ACTED BY THE STUDENTS OF CHRIST-CHURCH, OXFORD, 1636 [PUBLISHED 1655] Song. Once Venus' cheeks, that sham'd the morn, Her lips, that winter had out-born, In June look'd pale: Her heat grew cold, her nectar dry ; The wonted fire and flames to mortify. [Act iv., Sc. 14.6] [Two lines omitted.] [Ed. of 1691.] [Instead of "in which" read "to see".] [A line omitted.] [THE] FATAL JEALOUSY. A TRAGEDY [PUBLISHED 1673]. AUTHOR UNKNOWN [BY NEVIL PAYNE] No Truth Absolute: after seeing a Masque of Gipseys. 1st Spectator. By this we see that all the world's a cheat, Whose truths and falsehoods lie so intermixt, And are so like each other, that 'tis hard To find the difference. Who would not think these people 2nd Spect. Things perfectly alike are but the same; So in terrestrial things there is not one But takes its form and nature from our fancy, Not its own being, and is but what we think it.1 1st Spect. But Truth is still itself? 2nd Spect. No, not at all, as Truth appears to us; For oftentimes That is a truth to me, that's false to you; So 'twould not be, if it was truly true.2 How clouded Man Doubts first, und from one doubt doth soon proceed O Apprehension ! Apprehension. So terrible the consequence appears, It makes my brain turn round, and night seem darker. The moon begins to drown herself in clouds, Leaving a duskish horror everywhere. My sickly fancy makes the garden seem Like those benighted groves in Pluto's kingdoms. [Act ii.3] [Act iii.] [Act iv.] 1["What we do think it."] 2[The Scene continues.] [Ed. of 1673.] Injured Husband. Wife (dying). Oh, oh, I fain would live a little longer, My soul will scarce reach heav'n without his pardon. Gerardo; his wife murdered. Ger. It is in vain to look 'em,' if they hide; The garden's large; besides, perhaps they are gone. We'll to the body. Serv. You are by it now, my Lord. Ger. This accident amazes me so much, I go I know not where. Doubt. Doubt is the effect of fear or jealousy, Two passions which to reason give the lie; Both hood-wink truth, and go to blind-man's-buff, Owl. -hark how the owl Summons their souls to take a flight with her, [Act iv.] [Act iv.] [Act ii.] [Act iv.] THE TRAITOR. A TRAGEDY [LICENSED 1631: PUB Sciarrah, whose life is forfeited, has offer of pardon, condition- Sci. if thou couldst redeem me With anything but death, I think I should Amid. Nothing can be too precious To save a brother, such a loving brother Sci. Death's a devouring gamester, And sweeps up all ;-what think'st thou of an eye? To see me safe with the other? or a hand This white hand, that has so often With admiration trembled on the lute, Till we have pray'd thee leave the strings awhile, Amid. Do you believe, I should not find The way to heav'n, were both mine eyes thy ransom? Without a hand. [Act v., Sc. 1.3] sometimes done, to leave in my readers a relish, My transcript breaks off here. Perhaps what follows was of less value; or per themselves the genuine fountains of these old haps I broke off, as I own I have and an inclination to explore for dramatic delicacies. 1["But I'd not have thee venture All at one chance."] 3 [Two lines and a half omitted.] [Shirley's Works, vol. ii. For other extracts from Shirley see note on p. 393.] THE HUNTINGDON DIVERTISEMENT. AN INTERLUDE, FOR THE GENERAL ENTERTAINMENT AT THE COUNTY FEAST, HELD AT MERCHANT TAYLORS' HALL, JUNE 20TH, 1678.1 BY W. M. [AUTHOR UNKNOWN] Humour of a retired Knight. Sir JEOFFRY DOE-RIGHT. Master GENEROUS GOODMAN. Gen. Sir Jeoffry, good morrow. Sir J. The same to you, Sir. Gen. Your early zeal condemns the rising sun Sir J. Did you know The pleasures of an early contemplation, You drowsy on your bed; but rouse, and spend Gen. Your practice, Sir, merits our imitation; Sir J. "Tis true, I bless my lucky stars, whose kind aspects Was made her perfect tennis-ball; her smiles Now made me rich and honour'd; then her frowns [Not divided into Acts. See ed. of 1678, p. 2.] |