A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 2

CUPID. There rest my chariot on the mountaintops.[18]

I, that in shape appear unto your sight[19]

A naked boy, not cloth'd but with my wings, And that great G.o.d of Love, who with his might Ruleth the vast wide world and living things.[20]

This left hand bears Vain Hope, short joyful state, With Fair Resemblance, lovers to allure: This right hand holds Repentance all too late, War, fire,[21] blood, and pains without recure.

On sweet ambrosia is not my food, Nectar is not my drink: as to the rest Of all the G.o.ds: I drink the lover's blood.

And feed upon the heart[22] within his breast.

Well hath my power in heaven and earth been try'd, And deepest h.e.l.l my piercing force hath known.

The marble seas[23] my wonders hath descry'd, Which elder age throughout the world hath blown.[24]

To me the king of G.o.ds and men doth yield, As witness can the Greekish maid,[25] whom I Made like a cow go glowing through[26] the field, Lest jealous Juno should the 'scape espy.

The doubled night, the sun's restrained course, His secret stealths, the slander to eschew, In shape transform'd,[27] we[28] list not to discourse.

All that and more we forced him to do.

The warlike Mars hath not subdu'd our[29] might, We fear'd him not, his fury nor disdain, That can the G.o.ds record, before whose sight He lay fast wrapp'd in Vulcan's subtle chain.

He that on earth yet hath not felt our power, Let him behold the fall and cruel spoil Of thee, fair Troy, of Asia the flower, So foul defac'd, and levell'd[30] with the soil Who forc'd Leander with his naked breast So many nights to cut the frothy waves, But Hero's love, that lay inclos'd in Sest?

The stoutest hearts to me shall yield them slaves.

Who could have match'd the huge Alcides'[31] strength?

Great Macedon[32] what force might have subdu'd?

Wise Scipio who overcame at length, But we, that are with greater force endu'd?

Who could have conquered the golden fleece[33]

But Jason, aided by Medea's art?

Who durst have stol'n fair Helen out of Greece But I, with love that bold'ned Paris' heart?

What bond of nature, what restraint avails[34]

Against our power? I vouch to witness truth.

The myrrh tree,[35] that with shamefast tears bewails Her father's love, still weepeth yet for ruth,[36]

But now, this world not seeing in these days Such present proofs of our all-daring[37] power, Disdains our name, and seeketh sundry ways To scorn and scoff, and shame us every hour.

A brat, a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, and an idle boy: A[38] rod, a staff, a whip to beat him out!

And to be sick of love, a childish toy: These are mine honours now the world about, My name disgrac'd to raise again therefore, And in this age mine ancient renown By mighty acts intending to restore, Down to the earth in wrath now am I come; And in this place such wonders shall ye hear, As these your stubborn and disdainful hearts In melting tears and humble yielding fear Shall soon relent by sight of others' smarts.

This princely palace will I enter in, And there inflame the fair Gismunda so, Enraging all her secret veins within, Through fiery love that she shall feel much woe.[39]

Too-late-Repentance, thou shalt bend my bow; Vain Hope, take out my pale, dead, heavy shaft, Thou, Fair Resemblance, foremost forth shalt go, With Brittle Joy: myself will not be least, But after me comes Death and deadly Pain.

Thus shall ye march, till we return again.[40]

Meanwhile, sit still, and here I shall you show Such wonders, that at last with one accord Ye shall relent, and say that now you know Love rules the world, Love it a mighty lord.[41]

[CUPID _with his train entereth into_ KING TANCRED'S _palace_.

ACT I., SCENE 2.

GISMUNDA _in purple cometh out of her chamber, attended by four maids that are the Chorus_.

GISMUNDA. "O vain, unsteadfast state of mortal things!

Who trust this world, leans to a brittle stay: Such fickle fruit his flattering bloom forth brings, Ere it be ripe, it falleth to decay."

The joy and bliss that late I did possess, In weal at will, with one I loved best, Is turned now into so deep distress, As teacheth me to know the world's unrest.[42]

For neither wit nor princely stomachs serve Against his force, that slays without respect The n.o.ble and the wretch: ne doth reserve So much as one for worthiness elect.

Ah me, dear lord! what well of tears may serve To feed the streams of my foredulled eyes, To weep thy death, as thy death doth deserve, And wail thy want in full sufficing wise?

Ye lamps of heaven, and all ye heavenly powers,[43]

Wherein did he procure your high disdain?

He never sought with vast huge mountain towers To reach aloft, and over-view your reign: Or what offence of mine was it unwares, That thus your fury should on me be thrown, To plague a woman with such endless cares?

I fear that envy hath the heavens this shown: The sun his glorious virtues did disdain; Mars at his manhood mightily repin'd; Yea, all the G.o.ds no longer could sustain, Each one to be excelled in his kind.

For he my lord surpa.s.s'd them every one;[44]

Such was his honour all the world throughout.

But now, my love, oh! whither art thou gone?

I know thy ghost doth hover hereabout, Expecting me, thy heart, to follow thee: And I, dear love, would fain dissolve this strife.

But stay awhile, I may perhaps foresee Some means to be disburden'd of this life, "And to discharge the duty of a wife,[45]

Which is, not only in this life to love, But after death her fancy not remove."

Meanwhile accept of these our daily rites, Which with my maidens I shall do to thee, Which is in songs to cheer our dying sprites With hymns of praises of thy memory.

_Cantant.

Quae mihi cantio nondum occurrit_.[46]

ACT I, SCENE 3.

_The song ended_, TANCRED _the King cometh out of his palace with his guard_.

TANCRED. Fair daughter, I have sought thee out with grief, To ease the sorrows of thy vexed heart.

How long wilt thou torment thy father thus, Who daily dies to see thy needless tears?

Such bootless plaints, that know nor mean nor end, Do but increase the floods of thy lament; And since the world knows well there was no want In thee of ought, that did to him belong, Yet all, thou seest, could not his life prolong.

Why then dost thou provoke the heavens to wrath?

His doom of death was dated by his stars, "And who is he that may withstand his fate?"

By these complaints small good to him thou dost, Much grief to me, more hurt unto thyself, And unto nature greatest wrong of all.

GISMUNDA. Tell me not of the date of nature's days, Then in the April of her springing age: No, no, it was my cruel destiny, That spited at the pleasance of my life.

TANCRED. My daughter knows the proof of nature's course.

"For as the heavens do guide the lamp of life, So can they reach no farther forth the flame, Than whilst with oil they do maintain the same."

GISMUNDA. Curst be the stars, and vanish may they curst, Or fall from heaven, that in their dire aspect[47]

Abridg'd the health and welfare of my love.

TANCRED. Gismund, my joy, set all these griefs apart; "The more thou art with hard mishap beset, The more thy patience should procure thine ease."

GISMUNDA. What hope of hap may cheer my hapless chance?

What sighs, what tears may countervail my cares?

What should I do, but still his death bewail, That was the solace of my life and soul?

Now, now, I want the wonted guide and stay Of my desires and of my wreakless thoughts.

My lord, my love, my life, my liking gone, In whom was all the fulness of my joy, To whom I gave the first-fruits of my love, Who with the comfort of his only sight All care and sorrows could from me remove.

But, father, now my joys forepast to tell, Do but revive the horrors of my h.e.l.l.

As she that seems in darkness to behold The gladsome pleasures of the cheerful light.

TANCRED. What then avails thee fruitless thus to rue His absence, whom the heavens cannot return?

Impartial death thy husband did subdue, Yet hath he spar'd thy kingly father's life: Who during life to thee a double stay, As father and as husband, will remain, With double love to ease thy widow's want, Of him whose want is cause of thy complaint.

Forbear thou therefore all these needless tears, That nip the blossoms of thy beauty's pride.

GISMUNDA. Father, these tears love challengeth of due.