_Venus_. Calms appear when storms are past; Love will have his hour at last: Nature is my kindly care; Mars destroys, and I repair; Take me, take me, while you may, Venus comes not every day.
_Chorus of all_. Take her, take her, &c.
_Chronos_. The world was then so light, 80 I scarcely felt the weight; Joy ruled the day, and Love the night.
But, since the queen of pleasure left the ground, I faint, I lag, And feebly drag The ponderous...o...b..around.
_Momus_. All, all of a piece throughout; [_Pointing to Diana_.] Thy chase had a beast in view; [_To Mars_.] Thy wars brought nothing about; [_To Venus_.] Thy lovers were all untrue. 90
_Ja.n.u.s_. "Tis well an old age is out.
_Chronos_. And time to begin a new.
_Cho. of all_. All, all of a piece throughout; Thy chase had a beast in view: Thy wars brought nothing about; Thy lovers were all untrue.
"Tis well an old age is out, And time to begin a new.
_Dance of huntsmen, nymphs, warriors, and lovers_.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 45: This Masque, with the song of a scholar and his mistress, was performed in 1700, for the author"s benefit, with the play of the Pilgrim, altered by Sir John Vanbrugh, his fortune and health being at that time in a declining state.]
XXII.
SONG OF A SCHOLAR AND HIS MISTRESS,
WHO, BEING CROSSED BY THEIR FRIENDS, FELL MAD FOR ONE ANOTHER; AND NOW FIRST MEET IN BEDLAM.
[Music within.]
_The Lovers enter at opposite doors, each held by a keeper._
_Phillis_. Look, look I see--I see my love appear!
"Tis he--"Tis he alone; For, like him, there is none: "Tis the dear, dear man, "tis thee, dear.
_Amyntas_. Hark! the winds war; The foamy waves roar; I see a ship afar: Tossing and tossing, and making to the sh.o.r.e: But what"s that I view, So radiant of hue, St Hermo, St Hermo, that sits upon the sails?
Ah! No, no, no.
St Hermo never, never shone so bright; "Tis Phillis, only Phillis, can shoot so fair a light; "Tis Phillis, "tis Phillis, that saves the ship alone, For all the winds are hush"d, and the storm is overblown.
_Phillis_. Let me go, let me run, let me fly to his arms.
_Amyntas_. If all the fates combine, And all the furies join, I"ll force my way to Phillis, and break through the charm.
[_Here they break from their keepers, run to each other, and embrace_.]
_Phillis_. Shall I marry the man I love?
And shall I conclude my pains?
Now bless"d be the powers above, I feel the blood bound in my veins; With a lively leap it began to move, And the vapours leave my brains.
_Amyntas_. Body join"d to body, and heart join"d to heart, To make sure of the cure, Go call the man in black, to mumble o"er his part.
_Phillis_. But suppose he should stay--
_Amyntas_. At worst if he delay, "Tis a work must be done, We"ll borrow but a day, And the better, the sooner begun.
_Cho. of both_. At worst if he delay, &c.
[_They run out together hand in hand._]
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
I.
PROLOGUE TO THE RIVAL LADIES.
"Tis much desired, you judges of the town Would pa.s.s a vote to put all prologues down: For who can show me, since they first were writ, They e"er converted one hard-hearted wit?
Yet the world"s mended well; in former days Good prologues were as scarce as now good plays.
For the reforming poets of our age, In this first charge, spend their poetic rage: Expect no more when once the prologue"s done: The wit is ended ere the play"s begun. 10 You now have habits, dances, scenes, and rhymes; High language often; ay, and sense, sometimes.
As for a clear contrivance, doubt it now; They blow out candles to give light to the plot.
And for surprise, two b.l.o.o.d.y-minded men Fight till they die, then rise and dance again, Such deep intrigues you"re welcome to this day: But blame yourselves, not him who writ the play; Though his plot"s dull, as can be well desired, Wit stiff as any you have e"er admired: 20 He"s bound to please, not to write well; and knows There is a mode in plays as well as clothes; Therefore, kind judges....
A SECOND PROLOGUE ENTERS.
2. Hold; would you admit For judges all you see within the pit?
1. Whom would he then except, or on what score?
2. All who (like him) have writ ill plays before; For they, like thieves condemn"d, are hangmen made, To execute the members of their trade.
All that are writing now he would disown, But then he must except--even all the town; All choleric, losing gamesters, who, in spite, Will d.a.m.n to-day, because they lost last night; All servants, whom their mistress" scorn upbraids; All maudlin lovers, and all slighted maids; All who are out of humour, all severe; All that want wit, or hope to find it here.