The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act IIII. Scene V.

OVID, IVLIA, GALLVS, CYTHERIS, TIBVLLVS, PLAVTIA, ALBIVS, CHLOE, TVCCA, CRISPINVS, HERMOGENES, PYRGVS.

GOds, and Goddesses, take your seuerall seates. Now, M••RCVRY, moue your caduceus, and in IVPITERS name command silence.

CRIS.

In the name of IVPITER; silence.

HERM.

The cryer of the court hath too clarified a voice.

GALL.

Peace, Momus.

OVID.

Oh, he is the God of reprehension; let him alone. 'Tis his of∣fice. MERCVRY, goe forward, and proclaime after PHOEBVS, our high

pleasure, to all the Deities that shall partake this high banquet.

CRIS.

Yes, sir.

GALL.

The great God, IVPITER, Of his licentious goodnesse, Willing to make this feast, no fast From any manner of pleasure; Nor to bind any God or Goddesse, To be any thing the more god or goddess, for their names: He giues them all free licence, To speake no wiser, then persons of baser titles; And to be nothing better▪ then common men, or women. And therefore no God Shall need to keep himselfe more strictly to his Goddesse, Then any man do's to his wife. Nor any Goddesse Shall need to keepe her selfe more strictly to her God, Then any woman do's to her husband. But, since it is no part of wisdome, In these daies, to come into bonds; It shall be lawfull for euery louer, To breake louing oathes, To change their louers, and make loue to others, As the heate of euery ones bloud, And the spirit of our nectar shall inspire. And IVPITER, saue IVPITER.

CRIS.

The great, &c. Of his, &c. Willing, &c. From any, &c. Nor to, &c. To be, &c. He giues, &c. To speake, &c. And to, &c. And there, &c. Shall need, &c. Then any▪ &c. Nor any, &c. Shall need, &c. Then any, &c. But, since, &c. In these, &c. It shall, &c. To breake, &c. To change, &c. As the, &c. And the, &c. And IVPI. &c.

TIBV.

So: now we may play the fooles, by authoritie.

HERM.

To play the foole by authoritie, is wisdome.

IVLI.

Away with your matterie sentences, Momus; they are too graue, and wise, for this meeting.

OVID.

MERCVRY, giue our iester a stoole, let him sit by; and reach him of our cates.

TVCC.

Do'st heare, mad IVPITER? Wee'll haue it enacted; He, that speakes the first wise word, shall be made cuckold. What sai'st thou? Is't not a good motion?

OVID.

Deities, are you all agreed?

ALL.

Agreed, great IVPITER.

ALBI.

I haue read in a booke, that to play the foole wisely, is high wisdome.

GALL.

How now, VULCAN! will you be the first wizard?

OVID.

Take his wife, MARS, and make him cuckold, quickly.

TVCC.

Come, cockatrice.

CHLO.

No, let me alone with him, IVPITER: I'le make you take heed, sir, while you liue againe; if there be twelue in a companie, that you bee not the wisest of 'hem.

ALBI.

No more, I will not indeed, wife, hereafter; I'le be here: mum.

OVID.

Fill vs a bowle of nectar, GANYMEDE: we will drinke to our daughter VENVS.

GALL.

Looke to your wife, VULCAN: IVPITER begins to court her.

TIBV.

Nay, let MARS looke to it: VULCAN must doe, as VENVS doe's, beare.

TVCC.

Sirrah, boy: catamite. Looke, you play GANYMEDE well now, you slaue. Doe not spill your nectar; Carrie your cup euen: so. You should haue rub'd your face, with whites of egges, you rascall; till your browes had shone like our sooty brothers here, as sleeke as a horn-booke: or ha' steept your lips in wine, till you made 'hem so plump, that IVNO might haue beene iealous of'hem. Punke, kisse me, punke.

OVID.

Here, daughter VENVS, I drinke to thee.

CHLO.

'Thanke you, good father IVPITER.

TVCC.

Why, mother IVNO! gods and fiends! what, wilt thou suf∣fer this ocular temptation?

TIBV.

MARS is enrag'd, hee lookes bigge, and begins to stut, for anger.

HERM.

Well plaid, Captaine MARS.

TVCC.

Well said, minstrell MOMVS: I must put you in? must I? When will you be in good fooling of your selfe, fiddler? neuer?

HERM.

O, 'tis our fashion, to be silent, when there is a better foole in place, euer.

TVCC.

'Thanke you, rascall.

OVID.

Fill to our daughter VENVS, GANYMEDE, who fills her fa∣ther with affection.

IVLI.

Wilt thou be ranging, IVPITER, before my face?

OVID.

Why not, IVNO? why should IVPITER stand in awe of thy face, IVNO?

IVLI.

Because it is thy wiues face, IVPITER.

OVID.

What, shall a husband be afraid of his wiues face? will shee paint it so horribly? Wee are a King, cot-queane; and we will raigne in our pleasures; and wee will cudgell thee to death, if thou finde fault with vs.

IVLI.

I will find fault with thee, King cuckold-maker: what, shall the King of gods turne the King of good fellowes, and haue no fellow in wickednesse? This makes our poets, that know our prophanenesse, liue as prophane, as we: By my god-head, IVPITER; I will ioyne with all the other gods, here; bind thee hand and foot; throw thee downe into earth; and make a poore poet of thee, if thou abuse me thus.

GALL.

A good smart-tongu'd Goddesse; a right IVNO.

OVID.

IVNO, we will cudgell thee, IVNO: we told thee so yesterday, when thou wert iealous of vs, for THETIS.

PYRG.

Nay, to day shee had me in inquisition too.

TVCC.

Well said, my sine Phrygian frie, informe, informe. Giue mee some wine (King of Heralds) I may drinke to my cockatrice.

OVID.

No more, GANYMEDE, wee will cudgell thee, IVNO: by S••YX, we will.

IVLI.

I, 'tis well, Gods may grow impudent in iniquitie, and they must not be told of it—

OVID.

Yea, we will knocke our chinne against our brest; and shake thee out of Olympus, into an oyster-bote, for thy scolding.

IVLI.

Your nose is not long enough to doe it, IVPITER, if all thy strumpets, thou hast among the starres, tooke thy part. And there is neuer a starre in thy fore-head, but shall be a horne, if thou persist to abuse me.

CRIS.

A good iest, i' faith.

OVID.

We tell thee, thou anger'st vs, cot-queane; and we will thun∣der thee in peeces, for thy cot-queanitie.

CRIS.

Another good iest.

ALBI.

O, my hammers, and my Cyclops! this boy fills not wine e∣nough, to make vs kind enough, to one another.

TVCC.

Nor thou hast not collied thy face enough, stinkard.

ALBI.

I'le ply the table with nectar, and make them friends.

HERM.

Heauen is like to haue but a lame skinker, then.

ALBI.

"Wine, and good liuers, make true louers: I'le sentence them together. Here father, here mother, for shame, drinke your selues drunke, and forget this dissention: you two should cling together, before our fa∣ces, and giue vs example of vnitie.

GALL.

O, excellently spoken, VULCAN, on the sodaine!

TIBV.

IVPITER, may doe well to preferre his tongue to some office, for his eloquence.

TVCC.

His tongue shall bee gent'man vsher to his wit, and still goe before it.

ALBI.

An excellent fit office!

CRIS.

I, and an excellent good iest, besides.

HERM.

What, haue you hired MERCVRY, to cry your iests you make?

OVID.

MOMVS, you are enuious.

TVCC.

Why, you whoreson block-head, 'tis your only blocke of wit in fashion (now adaies) to applaud other folkes iests.

HERM.

True: with those that are not artificers themselues. VUL∣CAN, you nod; and the mirth of the iest droops.

PYRG.

He ha's fild nectar so long, till his braine swims in it.

GALL.

What, doe we nod, fellow Gods? sound musicke, and let vs startle our spirits with a song.

TVCC.

Doe, APOLLO: thou art a good musician.

GALL.

What saies IVPITER?

OVID.

Ha? ha?

GALL.

A song.

OVID.

Why, doe, doe, sing.

PLAV.

BACCHVS, what say you?

TIBV.

CERES?

PLAV.

But, to this song?

TIBV.

Sing, for my part.

IVLI.

Your belly weighes downe your head, BACCHVS: here's a song toward.

TIBV.

Begin, VULCAN—

ALBI.

What else? what else?

TVCC.

Say, IVPITER—

OVID.

MERCVRY—

CRIS.

I, say, say—

SONG.

WAke, our mirth begins to die: Quicken it with tunes, and wine: Raise your notes, you're out: fie, fie, This drouzinesse is an ill signe. We banish him the queere of Gods, That droops agen: Then all are men, For here's not one, but nods.

OVID.

I like not this sodaine and generall heauinesse, amongst our Godheads: 'Tis somewhat ominous. APOLLO, command vs lowder musicke, and let MERCVRY, and MOMVS contend to please, and reuiue our senses.

SONG.

HERM.

THen, in a free and lofty straine, Our broken tunes we thus repaire;

CRIS.

And we answere them againe, Running diuision on the panting aire:

AMBO.

To celebrate this feast of sense, As free from scandall, as offence.

HERM.

Here is beautie, for the eye;

CRIS.

For the eare, sweet melodie;

HERM.

Ambrosiack odours, for the smell;

CRIS.

Delicious nectar, for the taste;

AMBO.

For the touch, a ladies waste; Which doth all the rest excell!

OVID.

I: This hath wak't vs. MERCVRY, our Herald; Goe from our selfe, the great God IVPITER, to the great Emperour, AVGVSTVS CAESAR: And command him, from vs (of whose bountie he hath recei∣ued his sir-name, AVGVSTVS) that for a thanke-offring to our benefi∣cence, he presently sacrifice as a dish to this banquet, his beautifull and wanton daughter IVLIA. Shee's a curst queane, tell him; and plaies the scold behind his backe: Therefore, let her be sacrific'd. Command him this, MERCVRY, in our high name of IVPITER ALTITONANS.

IVLI.

Stay, feather-footed MERCVRY, and tell AVGVSTVS, from vs, the great IVNO SATVRNIA; if he thinke it hard to doe, as IVPITER

hath commanded him, and sacrifice his daughter, that hee had better to doe so ten times, then suffer her to loue the well-nos'd poet, OVID: whom he shall doe well to whip, or cause to bee whipt, about the capitoll, for soothing her, in her follies.