Pleasant dialogues and dramma's, selected out of Lucian, Erasmus, Textor, Ovid, &c. With sundry emblems extracted from the most elegant Iacobus Catsius. As also certaine elegies, epitaphs, and epithalamions or nuptiall songs; anagrams and acrosticks; with divers speeches (upon severall occasions) spoken to their most excellent Majesties, King Charles, and Queene Mary. With other fancies translated from Beza, Bucanan, and sundry Italian poets. By Thomas Heywood

The DIALOGVE.

Vulcan.

WHat must I do, Iove? Prethee let me know: See, I am come, for thou comman∣dedst so; ••••d brought with me an Axe sharp above wonder, ••hose very edge will cleave a rocke in sunder.

Iupiter.

'Tis well done, Vulcan, 't must be thus apply'de, ••ou with that hatchet must my head divide.

Vulc.

Wouldst thou persuade me unto madnesse? say ••at's to be done, or packe me hence away. •• pleasure is, with a strong blow and full, ••••th all thy force thou part in two my skull.

If thou refuse to doo't, as fearing skath, Thy timerousnesse will but increase my wrath And deep displeasure: therefore strike I say, Instantly, boldly, and without delay: Quickly deliuer me, I am full of paine, A thousand throwes are laboring in my braine.

Vulc.

Well looke too't Iupiter, my axe is keen, Nor can this birth be without bloud-shed seen. 'Twill be a dangerous wound made in thy head; Beleeve't, Lucina brings not thus to bed.

Iupit.

Strike boldly then, ô Vulcan, feare not blood, For I know best what for my selfe is good.

Vulc.

Though 'gainst my will, I shall, who dares with∣stand When Iupiter himselfe shall give command. What's here? A woman arm'd leaps on the Plain: O Iove, thou hadst much mischiefe in thy brain. No marvell thou wert angry and much paind, When in thy Pia mater was containd A live Virago, arm'd, and having spread Castles and townes and towers about her head; She leaps and capers, topt with rage divine, And danceth (as she treads) the Matachine, Shakes her steele-pointed Lance, and strikes her Tardge As if she had the god of War in charge. Nay, which is more, she is exceeding faire, And ripe for mariage, made in all parts rare, And amiable, onely she hath blew eies, But those her gracefull helme doth well disguise: And therefore Iupiter, because I have Thus playd the mid-wife for thee, what I crave, Grant me for my reward, namely that she May be my wife, this day espous'd to me.

Jupit.

Thou demandst that which cannot be allow'd, For this Minerva is a Virgin vow'd, Nay, a perpetuall Votary: but if I In this could do thee any courtesie,

Thou mightst presume't.

Vulc.

It is my great desire, ••nd to my best of wishes I'le aspire •• waiting time to rape her.

••upit.

O my sonne, ••hou aimst at that which neuer can be done: ••e vowes to live a Virgin, let that guide thee, ••rsue not things which never can betide thee.