Tellus. Is not her beauty subject to time? Tellus. Take heed, Endymion, lest like [120 the wrestler in Olympia, that striving to lift an impossible weight catch'd an incurable strain, thou, by fixing thy thoughts above thy reach, fall into a disease without all recure. But I see thou art now in love with Cynthia. 125 End. No, Tellus, thou knowest that the stately cedar, whose top reacheth unto the clouds, never boweth his head to the shrubs that grow in the valley; nor ivy, that climbeth up by the elm, can ever get hold of the [130 beams of the sun. Cynthia I honour in all humility, whom none ought or dare adventure to love, whose affections are immortal, and virtues infinite. Suffer me, therefore, to gaze on the moon, at whom, were it not for thyself, I would [135 die with wondering. Exeunt. SCENE II.1 [Enter] DARES, SAMIAS, SCINTILLA, and FA puncturing View VILLA. Dar. Come, Samias, didst thou ever hear such a sighing, the one for Cynthia, the other for Semele, and both for moonshine in the water? Sam. Let them sigh, and let us sing. How [s say you, gentlewomen, are not our masters too far in love? Scint. Their tongues, haply, are dipp'd to the root in amorous words and sweet discourses, but I think their hearts are scarce tipp'd on [10 the side with constant desires. Dar. How say you, Favilla, is not love a lurcher, that taketh men's stomachs away that they cannot eat, their spleen that they cannot laugh, their hearts that they cannot fight, [15 their eyes that they cannot sleep, and leaveth nothing but livers to make nothing but lovers! Favil. Away, peevish boy; a rod were better under thy girdle than love in thy mouth! It will be a forward cock that croweth in the [20 shell. Dar. Alas, good old gentlewoman, how it becometh you to be grave! Scint. Favilla, though she be but a spark, yet is she fire. 25 II. ii. Favil. And you, Scintilla, be not much more than a spark, though you would be esteemed a flame. Sam. [Aside to Dares.] It were good sport to see the fight between two sparks. Dar. Aside to Samias.] Let them to it, and we will warm us by their words. it. Scint. You are not angry, Favilla? Sam. That, that! 85 Scint. This it is to be matched with girls, who coming but yesterday from making of babies,8 would before to-morrow be accounted matrons. Favil. I cry your matronship mercy. Be- [60 cause your pantables be higher with cork, therefore your feet must needs be higher in the insteps. You will be mine elder because you stand upon a stool and I on the floor. Sam. Good, good! 45 Dar. [To Samias.] Let them alone, and see with what countenance they will become friends. Scint. Nay, you think to be the wiser, because you mean to have the last word. 60 Sam. [To Dares.] Step between them lest they scratch. In faith, gentlewomen, seeing we came out to be merry, let not your jarring mar our jests; be friends. How say you Scint. I am not angry, but it spited me to [55 see how short she was. Favil. I meant nothing till she would needs Top. I will encounter that black and cruel 105 enemy that beareth rough and untewed locks upon his body, whose sire throweth down the strongest walls, whose legs are as many as both ours, on whose head are placed most horrible horns by nature as a defence from all harms. 110 Epi. What mean you, master, to be so desperate? Top. Honour inciteth me, and very hunger compelleth me. Epi. What is that monster? 115 Top. The monster Ovis. I have said, let thy wits work. Epi. I cannot imagine it. Yet let me see,a black enemy " with "rough locks." It may be a sheep, and Ovis is a sheep. His sire so 120 strong: a ram is a sheep's sire, that being also an engine of war. Horns he hath, and four legs, so hath a sheep. Without doubt, this monster is a black sheep. Is it not a sheep that you mean? 125 Top. Thou hast hit it: that monster will I kill and sup with. Sam. [Aside.] Come let us take him off. SAMIAS, DARES, FAVILLA, and SCINTILLA come forward.) Sir Tophas, all hail! 130 Top. Welcome, children; I seldom cast mine eyes so low as to the crowns of your heads, and therefore pardon me that I spake not all this while. Dar. No harm done. Here be fair ladies [135 come to wonder at your person, your valour, your wit, the report whereof hath made them careless of their own honours, to glut their eyes and hearts upon yours. Top. Report cannot but injure me, for that [140 not knowing fully what I am, I fear she hath been a niggard in her praises. Seint. No, gentle knight, report hath been prodigal, for she hath left you no equal, nor herself credit, so much hath she told, yet no [145 more than we now see. ing of your person, came to see it, and seeing it' are now in love with it. Top. Love me, ladies? I easily believe it, but my tough heart receiveth no impression with sweet words. Mars may pierce it, [155 Venus shall not paint on it. Favil. A cruel saying. Sam. [Aside.] There's a girl. Dar. Will you cast these ladies away, for a little love? Do but speak kindly. and all 160 Top. There cometh no soft syllable within my lips; custom hath made my words bloody and my heart barbarous. That pelting 2 word love, how waterish it is in my mouth; it car-) rieth no sound. Hate, horror, death, are [165] speeches that nourish my spirits. I like honey, but I care not for the bees; I delight in music, but I love not to play on the bagpipes; I can vouchsafe to hear the voice of women, but to touch their bodies, I disdain it as a [170] thing childish and fit for such men as can digest nothing but milk. Scint. A hard heart! Shall we die for your love and find no remedy? Top. I have already taken a surfeit. 175 Top. Pity them, Epi? No, I do not think that this breast shall be pest'red with such a foolish passion. What is that the gentlewoman carrieth in a chain? Epi. Why, it is a squirrel. 180 Top. A squirrel? O gods, what things are made for money! Dar. Is not this gentleman over-wise? Favil. I could stay all day with him, if [185 I feared not to be shent.3 Scint. Is it not possible to meet again? Dar. Yes, at any time. Favil. Then let us hasten home. Scint. Sir Tophas, the god of war deal [190 better with you than you do with the god of love. Favil. Our love we may dissemble, digest we cannot; but I doubt not but time will hamper you and help us. 195 Top. I defy time, who hath no interest in my heart. Come, Epi, let me to the battle with that hideous beast. Love is pap, and hath no relish in my taste because it is not terrible. [Exeunt Sir TOPHAS and EPITON.] Dar. Indeed a black sheep is a perilous [200 beast; but let us in till another time. Favil. I shall long for that time. SCENE III.4 [Enter] ENDYMION. Exeunt. End. No rest, Endymion! Still uncertain how to settle thy steps by day or thy thoughts by night! Thy truth is measured by thy fortune, and thou art judged unfaithful because thou art unhappy. I will see if I can beguile [5 myself with sleep, and if no slumber will take hold in my eyes, yet will I embrace the golden thoughts in my head, and wish to melt by mus ing; that as ebony, which no fire can scorch, is yet consumed with sweet savours, so my heart, [10 which cannot be bent by the hardness of fortune, may be bruised by amorous desires. On yonder bank never grew anything but lunary,1 and hereafter I will never have any bed but that bank. O Endymion, Tellus was fair. But [15 what availeth beauty without wisdom? Nay, Endymion, she was wise. But what availeth wisdom without honour? She was honourable, Endymion; belie her not. Ay, but how obscure is honour without fortune. Was she not for- [20 tunate whom so many followed? Yes, yes, but base is fortune without majesty: thy majesty, Cynthia, all the world knoweth and wondereth at, but not one in the world that can imitate it or comprehend it. No more, Endymion. Sleep [25 or die. Nay, die, for to sleep, it is impossible; -and yet I know not how it cometh to pass, feel such a heaviness both in mine eyes and heart that I am suddenly benumbed, yea, in every joint. It may be weariness, for when [s0 did I rest? It may be deep melancholy, for when did I not sigh? Cynthia! Ay, so; -I say, Cynthia ! He falls asleep. [Enter DIPSAS and BAGOA.] Dipsas. Little dost thou know, Endymion, when thou shalt wake, for hadst thou placed [35 thy heart as low in love as thy head lieth now in sleep, thou mightest have commanded Tellus, whom now, instead of a mistress, thou shalt find a tomb. These eyes must I seal up by art, not nature, which are to be opened neither by [40 art nor nature. Thou that layest down with golden locks shalt not awake until they be turned to silver hairs; and that chin on which scarcely appeareth soft down shall be filled with bristles as hard as broom. Thou shalt sleep [45 out thy youth and flowering time, and become dry hay before thou knewest thyself green grass; and ready by age to step into the grave when thou wakest, that was youthful in the court when thou laidest thee down to sleep. [50 The malice of Tellus hath brought this to pass, which if she could not have intreated of me by fair means, she would have commanded by menacing, for from her gather we all our simples to maintain our sorceries. [To BAGOA.] 58 Fan with this hemlock over his face, and sing the enchantment for sleep, whilst I go in and finish those ceremonies that are required in our art. Take heed ye touch not his face, for the fan is so seasoned that whoso it toucheth with [80 a leaf shall presently die, and over whom the wind of it breatheth, he shall sleep forever. Bagoa. Let me alone; I will be careful. [Exit DIPSAS.] What hap hadst thou, Endymion, to come under the hands of Dipsas? O fair En- [es dymion, how it grieveth me that that fair face must be turned to a withered skin and taste the pains of death before it feel the reward of love! Moonwort. "I have heard of an herb called Lunary that being bound to the pulses of the sick cause nothing but dreams of weddings and dances." Act III, So. 3, Sapho and Phao. (Baker.) I fear Tellus will repent that which the heavens themselves seemed to rue. But I hear Dipsas [70 coming! I dare not repine, lest she make me pine, and rock me into such a deep sleep that I shall not awake to my marriage. Re-enter DIPSAS. Dipsas. How now, have you finished? Bagoa. Yea. [78 Dipsas. Well then, let us in; and see that you do not so much as whisper that I did this, for if you do, I will turn thy hairs to adders and all thy teeth in thy head to tongues. Come away, come away. Exeunt [DIPSAS and BAGOA], [80 A DUMB SHOW2 [representing the dream of Endymion]. Music sounds. Three ladies enter: one with a knife and a looking-glass, who, by the procurement of one of the other two, offers to stab Endy mion as he sleeps; but the third wrings her hands. lamenteth, offering still to prevent it, but dares s not. At last, the first lady looking in the glass casts down the knife. Exeunt Enters an ancient man with books with three leaves; offers the same twice. Endymion refuseth. He rendeth two, and offers the third, [90 where he stands awhile; and then Endymion offers to take it. Exit (the Old Man]. ACT III SCENE 1.4 [Enter] CYNTHIA, TELLUS, [SEMELE, EUMENIDES, CORSITES, PANELION, and ZONTES.] Cynthia. Is the report true, that Endymion is stricken into such a dead sleep that nothing can either wake him or move him? Eum. Too true, madam, and as much to be pitied as wondered at. 8 Tellus. As good sleep and do no harm as wake and do no good. Cynth. What maketh you, Tellus, to be so short? The time was Endymion only was. Eum. It is an old saying, madam, that a [10 waking dog doth afar off bark at a sleeping lion. Sem. It were good, Eumenides, that you took a nap with your friend, for your speech beginneth to be heavy. [15 Eum. Contrary to your nature, Semele, which hath been always accounted light. Cynth. What, have we here before my face these unseemly and malapert overthwarts! I will tame your tongues and your thoughts, [20 and make your speeches answerable to your duties, and your conceits fit for my dignity, else will I banish you both my person and the world. Eum. Pardon, I humbly ask; but such is my unspotted faith to Endymion that whatsoever [28 Dumb show. Omitted in first edition. Given by Blount in 1632. 3 Blount reads readeth, In the Gardens of the Palace. ⚫ Wranglings. seemeth a needle to prick his finger is a dagger to wound my heart. Cynth. If you be so dear to him, how happeneth it you neither go to see him, nor search for remedy for him? [30 Eum. I have seen him to my grief, and sought recure with despair, for that I cannot imagine who should restore him that is the wonder to all men. Your Highness, on whose hands the compass of the earth is at command, though [35 not in possession, may show yourself both worthy your sex, your nature, and your favour, if you redeem that honourable Endymion, whose ripe years foretell rare virtues, and whose anmellowed conceits promise ripe counsel. [40 Cynth. I have had trial of Endymion, and conceive greater assurance of his age than I could hope of his youth. Tellus. But timely, madam, crooks that tree that will be a cammock,1 and young it pricks [45 that will be a thorn; and therefore he that began without care to settle his life, it is a sign without amendment he will end it. Cynth. Presumptuous girl, I will make thy tongue an example of unrecoverable dis- [s0 pleasure. Corsites, carry her to the castle in the desert, there to remain and weave. Cors. Shall she work stories or poetries? Cynth. It skilleth 2 not which. Go to, in both; for she shall find examples infinite in either [5 what punishment long tongues have. Eumenides, if either the soothsayers in Egypt, or the enchanters in Thessaly, or the philosophers in Greece, or all the sages of the world can find remedy, I will procure it; therefore, dispatch [60 with all speed: you, Eumenides, into Thessaly; you, Zontes, into Greece, because you are acquainted in Athens; you, Panelion, to Egypt; saying that Cynthia sendeth, and if you will, commandeth. Eum. On bowed knee I give thanks, and with wings on my legs, I fly for remedy. Zon. We are ready at your highness' command, and hope to return to your full content. Cynth. It shall never be said that Cynthia, [70 whose mercy and goodness filleth the heavens with joys and the world with marvels, will suffer either Endymion or any to perish, if he may be protected. Eum. Your Majesty's words have been al- [7 ways deeds, and your deeds virtues. SCENE II.3 [Enter] CORSITES and TELLUS. Exeunt. Cors. Here is the castle, fair Tellus, in which you must weave, till either time end your days, or Cynthia her displeasure. I am sorry so fair a face should be subject to so hard a fortune, and that the flower of beauty, which is honoured [5 in courts, should here wither in prison. Tellus. Corsites, Cynthia may restrain the iberty of my body, of my thoughts she cannot; nd therefore do I esteem myself most free, hough I am in greatest bondage. 1 A crooked tree. 2 Matters. 10 3 Before a castle. milk'd my thoughts and drained from my heart the very substance of my accustomed courage it worketh in my head like new wine, so as must hoop my sconce with iron, lest my head break, and so I bewray my brains. But, I [30 pray thee, first discover me in all parts, that I may be like a lover, and then will I sigh and die. Take my gun and give me a gown: Cedant arma toga.2 Epi. Here. 35 Tophas. Take my sword and shield and give me beard-brush and scissors: Bella gerant alii, tu Pari semper ama.3 Epi. Will you be trimm'd, sir? Tophas. Not yet; for I feel a contention [40 within me whether I shall frame the bodkin beard or the bush. But take my pike and give me pen: Dicere quæ puduit, scribere jussit amor.* Epi. I will furnish you, sir. Tophas. Now, for my bow and bolts give [45 me ink and paper, for my smiter a pen-knife; for Scalpellum, calami, atramentum, charta, libelli, Epi. Sir, will you give over wars and play [50 with that bauble called love? Tophas. Give over wars? No, Epi, Militat omnis amans, et habet sua castra Cupido. Epi. Love hate made you very eloquent, but your face is nothing fair. 55 Tophas. Non formosus erat, sed erat facundus Ulysses. Epi. Nay, I must seek a new master if you can speak nothing but verses. 60 Tophas. Quicquid conabar dicere, versus [co erat. Epi, I feel all Ovid De Arte Amandi lie as heavy at my heart as a load of logs. Oh, what a fine, thin hair hath Dipsas! What a pretty low forehead! What a tall and stately nose! What little hollow eyes! What great [65 and goodly lips! How harmless she is, being toothless, her fingers fat and short, adorned with long nails like a bittern! In how sweet a proportion her cheeks hang down to her breasts like dugs and her paps to her waist like bags! [70 What a low stature she is, and yet what a great foot she carrieth! How thrifty must she be in whom there is no waist! How virtuous is she like to be, over whom no man can be jealous! Epi. Stay, master, you forget yourself. Tophas. O Epi, even as a dish melteth by the fire, so doth my wit increase by love. 75 Epi. Pithily, and to the purpose! But what, begin you to nod? Tophas. Good Epi, let me take a nap; for 80 as some man may better steal a horse than another look over the hedge, so divers shall be sleepy when they would fainest take rest. 1 Disclose. 2 Cicero, De Officiis, i. 22, 76. He sleeps. Epi. Who ever saw such a woodcock! 9 Love Dipsas! Without doubt all the world will [85 now account him valiant, that ventureth on her whom none durst undertake. But here cometh two wags. Enter DARES and SAMIAS. Sam. Thy master hath slept his share. Dar. I think he doth it because he would [s0 not pay me my board-wages. Sam. It is a thing most strange and I think mine will never return, so that we must both seek new masters, for we shall never live by |