TIBV. If thrice in field, a man vanquifh his foe, 'Tis after in his choice to ferue, or no. How now Ovid! Law-cafes in verfe? Ovid. In troth, I know not: they runne from my pen Vnwittingly, if they be verfe. What's the newes abroad? Tibv. Off with this gowne, I come to haue thee walke. OVID. No, good Tibvllvs, I'm not now in cafe, Pray' let me alone. Tibv. How? not in cafe! S'light thou'rt in too much cafe, by all this law. Ovid. Troth, if I liue, I will new dreffe the law, In fprightly poefies habillaments. TIBV. The hell thou wilt. What, turne law into verfe? Thy father has fchool'd thee, I fee. Here, reade that fame. There's fubiect for you: and if I miftake not, A Superfedeas to your melancholy. Ovid. How! fubfcrib'd Ivlia! 6, my life, my heauen! TIBV. Is the mood chang'd? Ovid. Mufique of wit! Note for th'harmonious fpheares! 5 ΙΟ 15 20 [285] Celeftiall accents, how you rauifh me! Tibv. What is it, Ovid? Ovid. That I muft meete my Ivlia, the Princeffe Ivlia. 25 Tibv. Where? Ovid. Why, athart, I haue forgot: my paffion fo tranfports mee. TIBV. Ile faue your paines: it is at Albivs houfe, The iewellers, where the faire Lycoris lies. OVID. Who? Cytheris, Cornelivs Gallvs loue? 30 15 habillaments] Acoutrements Q 17 has] hath N Hart Q I haue] I've W, G, N 27 at TIBV. I, heele be there too, and my Plavtia. Tibv. Yea, and your Corinna. Ovid. True, but my fweet Tibvllvs, keepe that fecret: I would not, for all Rome, it fhould be thought, I vaile bright Ivlia vnderneath that name: Ivlia the gemme, and iewell of my foule, 35 That takes her honours from the golden skie, As beautie doth all luftre, from her eye. 40 The ayre refpires the pure elyzian fweets, In which fhe breathes: and from her lookes defcend The glories of the fummer. Heauen fhe is, Prays'd in her felfe aboue all praife: and he, Which heares her fpeake, would fweare the tune-full orbes 45 Turn'd in his zenith onely. Tibv. Pvblivs, thou'lt lofe thy felfe. Ovid. O, in no labyrinth, can I fafelier erre, Then when I lofe my felfe in prayfing her. Hence Law, and welcome, Mufes; though not rich, Yet are you pleafing: let's be reconcilde, 50 And now made one. Hencefoorth, I promife faith, And all my ferious houres to fpend with you: And with bewitching tones fteales forth my fpirit, In Ivlias name; faire Ivlia: Ivlias loue 55 Shall be a law, and that fweet law I'le ftudie, The law, and art of facred Ivlias loue: All other obiects will but abiects prooue. Tibv. Come, wee fhall haue thee as paffionate, as Propertivs, anon. 60 Ovid. O, how does my Sextvs? Tibvs. Faith, full of forrow, for his Cynthias death. 41 Elyzium Q 46 loose Q Q, W 48 loose Q 51 now] new OVID. What, ftill? Tibv. Still, and ftill more, his grieues doe grow vpon him, As doe his houres. Neuer did I know 65 An vnderftanding fpirit fo take to heart The common worke of fate. Ovid. O my Tibvllvs, [286] Let vs not blame him: for, againft fuch chances, The heartieft ftrife of vertue is not proofe. We may read conftancie, and fortitude, 70 To other foules: but had our felues beene ftrooke With the like planet, had our loues (like his) Beene rauifht from vs, by injurious death, And in the height, and heat of our beft dayes, It would haue crackt our finnewes, fhrunke our veines, ~ 75 And made our verie heart-ftrings iarre, like his. Come, let's goe take him foorth, and prooue, if mirth Or companie will but abate his paffion. Tibv. Content, and I implore the gods, it may. M After Crispinvs, you are welcome: Pray', vfe a ftoole, fir. Your coufin Cytheris will come downe prefently. Wee are fo bufie for the receiuing of thefe courtiers here, that I can fcarce be a minute with my felfe, for thinking of them: Pray you fit, fir, Pray you fit, fir. Cris. I am verie well, fir. Ne're truft me, but you are moft delicately feated here, full of fweet delight and blandifhment! an excellent ayre, an excellent ayre! 79 Exeunt. Q, G, N Finis Actus Primi. Q 5 ACTVS SECVNDVS. SCENA PRIMA. Q Act... Cytheris.] A Room in Albius's House. Enter ALBIUS and CrisriNus. G, N 1 Alb. Q, 1716+ 2 coufin] cosen Q (regularly) 3 the] om. 1716 ALBI. I, fir, 'tis a prettie ayre. Thefe courtiers runne in my minde ftill; I muft looke out for Ivpiters fake, fit, fir. Or pleafe you walke into the garden? There's a garden on the back-fide. Cris. I am moft ftrenuoufly well, I thanke you, fir. CHLO. Come, bring thofe perfumes forward a little, and ftrew fome rofes, and violets here; Fye, here bee roomes fauour the moft pittifully ranke that euer I felt: I crie the gods mercie, my hufband's in the winde of vs. Albi. Why, this is good, excellent, excellent: well faid, my fweet Chloe. Trimme vp your houfe moft obfequioufly. Chlo. For Vvlcanvs fake, breathe fomewhere elfe in troth you ouercome our perfumes exceedingly, you are too predominant. ALBI. Heare but my opinion, fweet wife. ΙΟ 15 20 25 CHLO. A pinne for your pinnion. In finceritie, if you be thus fulfome to me in euerie thing, I'le bee diuorc't; Gods my bodie? you know what you were, before I married you; I was a gentlewoman borne, I; 30 I loft all my friends to be a citizens wife; becaufe I heard indeed, they kept their wiues as fine as ladies; and that wee might rule our hufbands, like ladies; and doe what wee lifted: doe you thinke I would haue married you, elfe? 35 [287] Albi. I acknowledge, fweet wife, fhe fpeakes the beft of any woman in Italy, and mooues mightily which makes me, I had rather fhe fhould. make bumpes on my head, as big as my two fingers, then I would offend her. But fweet wife CHLO. Yet againe? I'ft not grace inough for you, that I call you hufband. and you call me wife: but you muft ftill bee poking mee, againft my will, to things? 35 40 10 air. [Aside.] N 15 Exit. Q Enter CHLOE, and two Maids. G [Exit. Enter CHLOE, with two Maids. N 19 mercy, [sees Albius] 27 pinnion] opinion 1692, ALBI. But you know, wife; here are the greateft ladies, and gallanteft gentlemen of Rome, to bee entertain'd in our houfe now: and I would faine aduife thee, to entertaine them in the beft fort, yfaith wife. Chlo. In finceritie, did you euer heare a man talke fo idlely? You would feeme to be mafter? You would haue your fpoke in my cart? you would aduife me to entertaine ladies, and gentlemen? becaufe you can marfhall your pack-needles, horfe-combes, hobbyhorfes, and wall-candleftickes in your ware-houfe better then I; therefore you can tell how to entertaine ladies, and gentle-folkes better then I? ALBI. O my fweet wife, vpbraid me not with that: "Gaine fauours fweetly from any thing; He that refpefls to get, muft relifh all commodities alike; and admit no difference betwixt oade, and frankincenfe; or the moft precious balfamum, and a tar-barrell. 45 50 55 60 Chlo. Mary fough: You fell fnuffers too, if you be remembred, but I pray you let mee buy them out of your hand; for I tell you true, 1 take it highly in fnuffe, to learne how to entertaine gentlefolkes, of you, at thefe yeeres, I faith. Alas man; there was not a gentleman 65 came to your houfe i' your tother wiues time, I hope? nor a ladie? nor mufique? nor mafques? Nor you. nor your houfe were fo much as fpoken of. before I difbaft my felfe, from my hood and my fartingall, to thefe bumrowles, and your whale-bone-bodies. ALBI. Looke here, my fweet wife; I am mum, my deare mummia, my balfamum, my fpermacete, and my verie citie of- -fhee has the moft beft, true, fæminine wit in ROME! 70 CRIS. I haue heard fo, fir; and doe moft vehemently 75 defire to participate the knowledge of her faire features. Albi. Ah, peace; you fhall heare more anon: bee not feene yet, I pray you; not yet: Obferue. |