A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 11
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 11
English drama
HOG. Go your way to bed then. [_Exit_ REBECCA.
I wonder who did at the first invent
These beds, the breeders of disease and sloth:
He was no soldier, sure, nor no scholar,
And yet he might be very well a courtier;
For no good husband would have been so idle,
No usurer neither: yet here the bed affords
[_Discovers his gold._
Store of sweet golden slumbers unto him.
Here sleeps command in war; Cæsar by this
Obtain'd his triumphs; this will fight man's cause,
When fathers, brethren, and the near'st of friends
Leave to assist him; all content to this
Is merely vain; the lovers, whose affections
Do sympathise together in full pleasure,
Debarr'd of this, their summer sudden ends;
And care, the winter to their former joys,
Breathes such a cold blast on their turtles' bills:
Having not this, to shroud them[394] forth his storms,
They straight are forc'd to make a separation,
And so live under those that rule o'er this.
The gallant, whose illustrious outside draws
The eyes of wantons to behold with wonder
His rare-shap'd parts, for so he thinks they be,
Deck'd in the robes of glistering gallantry;
Having not this attendant on his person,
Walks with a cloudy brow, and seems to all
A great contemner of society;
Not for the hate he bears to company,
But for the want of this ability.
O silver! thou that art the basest captive
Kept in this prison, how many pale offenders
For thee have suffer'd ruin? But, O my gold!
Thy sight's more pleasing than the seemly locks
Of yellow-hair'd Apollo; and thy touch
More smooth and dainty than the down-soft white
Of lady's tempting breast: thy bright aspect
Dims the great'st lustre of heaven's waggoner.
But why go I about to extol thy worth,
Knowing that poets cannot compass it?
But now give place, my gold; for here's a power
Of greater glory and supremacy
Obscures thy being; here sits enthronis'd
The sparkling diamond, whose bright reflection
Casts such a splendour on these other gems,
'Mongst which he so majestical appears,
As if---- Now my good angels guard me!
[_A flash of fire, and_ LIGHTFOOT _ascends like a spirit_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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