THE BRAZEN AGE. AN HISTORICAL PLAY [PUBLISHED 1613]. BY THOMAS HEYWOOD

Venus courts Adonis.

Ven. Why doth Adonis fly the Queen of Love,
And shun this ivory girdle of my arms?

To be thus scarf'd the dreadful God of War
Would give me conquer'd kingdoms. For a kiss,
But half like this, I could command the Sun
Rise 'fore his hour, to bed before his time;
And, being love-sick, change his golden beams,
And make his face pale as his sister Moon.
Look on me, Adon, with a stedfast eye,
That in these crystal glasses I may see

My beauty that charms Gods, makes Men amaz'd
And stown'd with wonder. Doth this roseate pillow
Offend my Love?

With my white fingers will I clap thy cheek;
Whisper a thousand pleasures in thy ear.

Adon. Madam, you are not modest. I affect
The unseen beauty that adorns the mind:
This looseness makes you foul in Adon's eye.
If you will tempt me, let me in your face
Read blushfulness and fear; a modest fear
Would make your cheek seem much more beautiful.1
Ven.
-wert thou made of stone,

I have heat to melt thee; I am Queen of Love.
There is no practice art of dalliance

Of which I am not mistress, and can use.

I have kisses than [that] can murder unkind words,
And strangle hatred that the gall sends forth;
Touches to raise thee, were thy spirits half dead;
Words than [that] can pour affection down thy ears.
Love me! thou canst not chuse ; thou shalt not chuse.2
Adon. Madam, you woo not well. Men covet not
These proffer'd pleasures, but love sweets denied.
These prostituted pleasures surfeit still;

Where's fear, or doubt, men sue with best good will.
Ven. Thou canst instruct the Queen of Love in love.
Thou shalt not, Adon, take me by the hand;
Yet, if thou needs will force me, take my palm.
I'll frown on him: alas! my brow's so smooth,
It will not bear a wrinkle.-Hie thee hence
Unto the chace, and leave me; but not yet:
1[Four lines and a half omitted.]
VOL. IV.-28

2

[Four lines.]

A Doctor humours his patient, who is crazed with reading lying books of travels, by pretending that he himself has been a great traveller in his time.

PEREGRINE, the patient. DOCTOR. LADY.

Peregrine. All the world over have you been?
Doctor. Over and under too.

Per. In the Antipodes ?

Doct. Yes, through and through.

Nor isle nor angle in the other world

But I have made discovery of.1 Do you

Think, Sir, to the Antipodes such a journey?

Per. I think there's none beyond it, and that Mandevil 2

Was the only man came near it.

Doct. Mandevil went far.

Per. Beyond all English legs that I can read of.

Doct. What think you, Sir, of Drake, our famous countryman ?

Per. Drake was a Didapper to Mandevil.

Candish and Hawkins, Frobisher, all our voyagers

Went short of Mandevil: but had he reach'd

To this place-here-yes here-this wilderness;

And seen the trees of the sun and moon, that speak,
And told King Alexander of his death;

He then

Had left a passage ope for travellers,

That now is kept and guarded by wild beasts;
Dragons and serpents, elephants white and blue;
Unicorns and lions, of many colours;

And monsters more, as numberless as nameless.
Doct. Stay there-

Per. Read here else: can you read?

Is it not true?

Doct. No truer, than I have seen it.3
You hear me not deny that all is true,
That Mandevil delivers of his travels;
Yet I myself may be as well believed.

Per. Since you speak reverently of him, say on.
Doct. Of Europe I'll not speak, 'tis too near home;

Who's not familiar with the Spanish garb,

Th' Italian cringe, French shrug, and German hug?
Nor will I trouble you with my observations

Fetch'd from Arabia, Paphlagonia,

Mesopotamia, Mauritania,

Syria, Thessalia, Persia, India;

All still is too near home: tho' I have touch'd

[Sixteen lines omitted.]

2[One line.]

[Eighteen lines.]

The clouds upon the Pyrenean mountains,
And been on Paphos hill, where I have kiss'd
The image of bright Venus; all is still

Too near home to be boasted.1 They sound
In a far traveller's ear,

Like the reports of those, that beggingly
Have put out on returns from Edinburgh,
Paris, or Venice; or perhaps Madrid,
Whither a Millaner may with half a nose
Smell out his way and is not near so difficult,
As for some man in debt, and unprotected,

To walk from Charing Cross to the Old Exchange.
No, I will pitch no nearer than the Antipodes;
That which is furthest distant; foot to foot
Against our region.

Lady. What, with their heels upwards?

Bless us, how 'scape they breaking of their necks?
Doct. They walk upon firm earth, as we do here
And have the firmament over their heads,

As we have here.

Lady. And yet just under us!

Where is Hell then? if they, whose feet are towards us
At the lower part of the world, have Heaven too

Beyond their heads, where's Hell?

Doct. You may find that

Without enquiry.

Scene, at the Antipodes.

[Act i., Sc. 6.]

N.B.-In the Antipodes, every thing goes contrary to our manners; wives rule their husbands; servants govern their masters; old men go to school again, etc.

SON. SERVANT. GENTLEMAN, and LADY, natives.
ENGLISH TRAVELLER.

Servant (to his young Master). How well you saw
Your father to school to-day, knowing how apt

He is to play the truant!

Son. But he is not

Yet gone to school?

Servant. Stand by, and you shall see.

Enter three Old Men with satchels.

All three (singing). Domine, domine, duster:

Three knaves in a cluster.

1 [Two and a half lines omitted.]

With Linus, Lichas that usurpt in Thebes,

And captived there his beauteous Megara.1

Pol. That Hercules by whom the Centaurs fell, Great Achelous, the Stymphalides,

And the Cremona giants: where is he?

Tel. That trait'rous Nessus with a shaft transfixt,
Strangled Antheus, purged Augeus' stalls,
Won the bright apples of th' Hesperides.

Jas. He that the Amazonian baldrick won;
That Achelous with his club subdued,
And won from him the Pride of Caledon,

Fair Deianeira, that now mourns in Thebes
For absence of the noble Hercules!

Atr. To him we came; but, since he lives not here,
Come, Lords; we will return these presents back
Unto the constant Lady, whence they came.

Her. Stay, Lords

Jas. 'Mongst women ?—

Her. For that Theban's sake,

Whom you profess to love, and came to seek,
Abide awhile; and by my love to Greece,
I'll bring before you that lost Hercules,
For whom you came to enquire.

Tel. It works, it works

Her. How have I lost myself!

Did we all this? Where is that spirit become,
That was in us? no marvel, Hercules,

That thou be'st strange to them, that thus disguised
Art to thyself unknown !-hence with this distaff,
And base effeminate chares; hence, womanish tires;
And let me once more be myself again.
Your pardon, Omphale!

[p. 244.]

I cannot take leave of this Drama without noticing a touch of the truest pathos, which the writer has put into the mouth of Meleager, as he is wasting away by the operation of the fatal brand, administered to him by his wretched Mother.

My flame encreaseth still-Oh Father Eneus;

And you, Althea, whom I would call Mother,

But that my genius prompts me thou'rt unkind :

And yet farewell!

[p. 201.2]

What is the boasted "Forgive me, but forgive me!" of the dying wife of Shore in Rowe, compared with these three little words?

[The next six lines not given by Pearson.]

*[For other extracts from Heywood see note to page 100.]

THE BATTLE OF ALCAZAR. A TRAGEDY [PUBLISHED IN 1594. BY GEORGE PEELE]

Muly Mahamet, driven from his home into a desart, robs the Lioness to feed his fainting Wife Calipolis.

Muly. Hold thee, Calipolis; feed, and faint no more. This flesh I forced from a Lioness;

Meat of a Princess, for a Princess' meet.

Learn by her noble stomach to esteem
Penury plenty in extremest dearth;
Who, when she saw her foragement bereft,
Pined not in melancholy or childish fear;

But, as brave minds are strongest in extremes,

So she, redoubling her former force,

Ranged through the woods, and rent the breeding vaults
Of proudest savages, to save herself.
Feed then, and faint not, fair Calipolis;
For, rather than fierce famine shall prevail
To gnaw thy entrails with her thorny teeth,
The conquering Lioness shall attend on thee,
And lay huge heaps of slaughter'd carcases
As bulwarks in her way to keep her back.
I will provide thee of a princely Ospray,
That, as she flieth over fish in pools,
The fish shall turn their glistering bellies up,
And thou shalt take the liberal choice of all.
Jove's stately Bird with wide-commanding wings
Shall hover still about thy princely head,
And beat down fowls by shoals into thy lap.
Feed then, and faint not, fair Calipolis.

[Act ii., Sc. 3.1]

This address, for its barbaric splendor of conception, extravagant vein of promise, not to mention some idiomatic peculiarities, and the very structure of the verse, savours strongly of Marlowe; but the real author, I believe, is unknown.

THE SEVEN CHAMPIONS OF CHRISTENDOM. BY JOHN KIRK. ACTED 1638

Calib, the Witch, in the opening Scene, in a Storm.

Calib. Ha! louder a little; so, that burst was well. Again; ha, ha! house, house your heads, ye fear

-struck mortal fools, when Calib's concert [consort] plays

[Peele's Works, ed. Bullen, vol. i. For other extracts from Peele see note on P. 13.]