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Fol. And I

my hobby-horse :will you be merry then, and jocund ?'

Ray. As merry as the cuckows of the spring.
Fol. Again !
Ray. How, lady, lies the way?

Hum. I'll be your convoy,
And bring you to the court of the Sun's queen,
Summer, a glorious and majestic creature;
Her face outshining the poor Spring's as far
As a sunbeam does a lamp, the moon a star.
Ray. Such are the spheres I'd move in.-Attend
us, Folly.


SCENE II.- Near the Summer's Court.

Enter RAYBRIGHT and HUMOUR. Ray. I muse, my nimble Folly stays so long. Hum. He's quick enough of foot, and counts, I

That minute cast away, not spent on you.

Ray. His company is music next to your's;
Both of you are a consort, and your tunes
Lull me asleep; and, when I most am sad,
My sorrows vanish from me in soft dreams:
But how far must we travel ? Is't our motion
[That] puts us in this heat, or is the air


you be merry, then, and jocund.] . For this last word, the 4to. reads jawsand; perhaps, joysome may be thought nearer the sound of the word, in the old text.

In love with us, it clings with such embraces,
It keeps us in this warmth?

Hum. This shows her Court
Is not far off, you covet so to see;
Her subjects seldom kindle needless fires,
The Sun lends them his flames.

Ray. Has she rare buildings?

Hum. Magnificent and curious: every noon
The horses of the day bait there; whilst he,
Who in a golden chariot makes them gallop
In twelve hours o'er the world, alights awhile,
To give a love-kiss to the Summer-queen.

Ray. And shall we have fine sights there?
Hum. Oh!

Ray. And hear
More ravishing music?

Hum. All the choristers
That learn'd to sing i'the temple of the Spring ;
But here attain such cunning," that when the

winds Roar and are mad, and clouds in antick gam

bols Dance o'er our heads, their voices have such

charms, They'll all stand still to listen.

Ray. Excellent.

2 But here attain, fc.] For here, the old copy reads her. The passage is imperfect at best ; but perhaps the manuscript had, By her; i.e. by the aid of Summer. VOL. II.


Enter FoLLY.

Fol. I sweat like a pamper'd jade of Asia, and drop like a cob-nut out of Africa

Enter a Forester. Fores. Back! whither go you? [Fol.] Oyes ! this way.

Fores: None must pass : Here's kept no open court; our queen this day Rides forth a-hunting, and the air being hot, She will not have rude throngs so stifle her. Back!




Sum. And did break her heart then?
Del. Yes, with disdain.
Sum. The heart of my dear mother-nurse, the

I'll break his heart for't: had she not a face,
Too tempting for a Jove?

Del. The Graces sat
On her fair eyelids ever ; but his youth,
Lusting for change, so doted on a lady,
Fantastic and yet fair, a piece of wonder,

3 I sweat like a pamper'd jade of Asia, &c.] This bombast is from Marlow, and has run the gauntlet through every dramatic writer, from Shakspeare to Ford. The cobnut of Africa is less familiar to us ; literally, it means a large nut; but I know of no fruit with that specific name.

(They call her Humour, and her parasite Folly) He cast the sweet Spring off, and turn'd us from

him ;

Yet bis celestial kinsman, for young Raybright
Is the Sun's Darling, knowing his journeying

To see thy glorious court, sends me before
To attend upon you, and spend all my hours
In care for him.-


The Sun appears above.
Sum. Obey your charge !-Oh, thou builder

Of me, thy handmaid ! landlord of my life !
Life of my love! throne where my glories sit !
I ride in triumph on a silver cloud,
Now I but see thee.

Sun. Rise! [she rises.] Is Raybright come yet?
Del. Not yet.
Sun. Be you indulgent over him ;


And lavish thou thy treasure.

Plen. Our princely cousin Raybright, your Darling, and the world's delight, Is come.

Sun. Who with him?

Plen. A goddess in a woman, Attended by a prating saucy fellow, Call’d Folly.

Sun. They'll confound himBut he shall run [his course;] go and receive him.

[Exit PLENTY. Sum. Your sparkling eyes, and his arrival,

draws Heaps of admirers; earth itself will sweat To bear our weights. Vouchsafe, bright power,

to borrow
Winds not too rough from Æolus, to fan
Our glowing faces.

Sun. I will: ho, Æolus !
Unlock the jail, and lend a wind or two
To fan my girl, the Summer.

Æol. (Within.) I will.
Sun. No roarers.
Æol. (Within.) No.
Sun. Quickly.
Æol. (Within.) Fly, you slaves! Summer sweats;

cool her.

[Hoboys.— The Sun takes his seat above. Enter RAYBRIGHT, Humour, PLENTY, Folly,

Country-fellows, and Wenches.


Haymakers, rakers, reapers, and mowers,

Wait on your Summer-queen ;
Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers,
Daffodils strew the

green ;
Sing, dance, and play,
'Tis holiday;

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