The floating island a tragi-comedy, acted before his Majesty at Oxford, Aug. 29. 1636. by the students of Christ-Church.
Strode, William, 1600 or 1601-1645., Lawes, Henry, 1569-1662.
ACTVS II
SCENA. I.
The Scene turns to Fancies Court.
Enter Concupiscence and Fuga.
Conc.
The Day appears in Scarlet; and the Sun
Seconds the luster of our rising Queen.
I nere long'd more for night, then for this morning.
Fug.
Twill be to you a double day, and bring
Your Mistresse Majesty, you Liberty.
Conc.
Fuga, the case is alterd; he that banish'd,
Himselfe is vanish'd. Thus the King and I,
Or I and he, are up and down like
Buckets.
Ha wench! these Moral men are taught,
I tro,
What 'tis to wrong kind hearts. Return with me
Periwigs, Powders, Fucuses for Ladies,
Chioppiens for short, for crooked Farthin∣gals;
For tainted Artificial breath; Teeth move∣able;
Such as may serve a Family by turns,
To eat, and laugh abroad: now wellcome helps
For all decayes of Nature, Arts for allure∣ment;
Be licenc'd Ladies for Variety
Now to mistake your Servant, Usher, Page,
For your own Lords, and without Heresie
In marri'd State.
Fug.
Fie Madam how you talk!
Conc.
How talk I Madam Simpers? do not thus
And broader too as mincing Dames as you,
When met together? Do you see your
Servant?
SCENA II.
Enter to them Sr. Timerous with a Paper.
Conc.
Sr. Timerous Fear-all inches and inches to you
Iust like a Spy.
He steals to Fuga and offers the Paper, she refuses; Concup. snatches and reades it.
Fug.
And still he comes in secret
Least he be spied.
Conc.
What's this? a silent motion?
The Bill hung out will shew us what it is.
Lady, I dare not with the praise of arts
With any thing but Love assay your parts;
Which are so rare, that when I strive to write,
The scant Expression seems not Love but spite.
Well wrot Sr. Tim.
Fug.
You cannot say well spoke.
Conc.
Can you not use your mouth? no way, Sr Tim.?
Why do you love? you are not fit to love;
Think me your Mistresse; now addresse your selfe
In form befitting.
Tim.
Hum!
He offers to Salute and steps back again; she makes to him.
Conc.
I must make up
Your will with my performance.
Tim.
Hum—I fear
Fuga will frown.
Conc.
Thy Mother was a Fuga.
Nor give nor take? not in a faire Salute?
Tongue-tide and Lip-bound too? O that
Page [unnumbered] it were
In fashion for my Sex, my Sex, to wooe.
Fug.
Lady, you seem to me in word and action
Too loose and open.
Conc.
My Complexion
Is I confesse the same with Messaline's;
We might have layn together in one Egg
As well a Helena and Clytemnestra.
To me no such desire as of our Like,
No Joy like Union. But your eares and age
Want breeding yet;
I'm sorry for offending:
I thought I knew my Sex; but if I do not,
I know my selfe.
SCENA III.
Enter to them Hilario.
Hil.
What here ye whirlygigs, while Queen Fancie calls you? Where's Concu∣piscence, where's Concupiscence? After all your Starching, Quilling, Turning, Seeking, Pinning; after your Jury of Pedlars, Tire∣women, Lacemakers and Semsters, still where's Concupiscence? Your Lady Fancie findes many greivous defects; there wants a Pin or two at least. One of her ribband Fancies are loose; a long haire hath un weav'd it selfe out of its curl'd Spheare, and passionatly broke forth out of Order. Fly, fly, ye Baggases.
(Ex. Conc.
Fug.
Baggases?
Hil.
As for my Sister, shee's one I'm sure: She colours for it; her willow gowne with •ay me forsaken wretch is a Challeng, a meer Challeng to all pitti∣ful-minded Amoroses: She's true touch, all the world can tell. Wu'd you were so too Lady for Sr. Tim's sake. Stay Fuga, you must stay one minute; for I must shew on you how Sr. Tim. must wooe.
Fug.
I see every one's ready to be a Dunces Teacher.
Singing and Dancing he drives her to the drink of the Stage;
She returns to escape.
So twice or thrice.
Hil.
Thus Sr.
Tim.
This is Loves Trenchmore.
Fug.
Fie on you all.
(Ex. Fuga.
Hil.
A prity wench. Sr. Tim, but that she's sawe'd
With some of her Fathers Humour; this coynesse calls her
Ma'evolo's Daughter. But what of that?
Every coy lasse is of Cockeril condition,
And must be woo'd as Cockerils fight, chase and retreate;
And then sheel love you like your shadow;
Fly thou, sheel follow; follow thou, sheel fly,
For I say no, and for her no say I.
Thus when a long time ye have turn'd backs one to another,
Ye may at length turn faces.
Tim.
Sr. I shall sometimes
Repaire to your wit for my direction.
Hil.
You may—and I shall readily afford it to your folly
(Ex. Tim.
For mine own merriment.
Enter Hilario's Boy.
Boy.
The Queen's at hand.
Hil.
And they not ready yet with their tedious Phantastticalia!
SCENA IIII.
Enter also Fancie, Concupiscence going backward before, carrying an
Ʋmbrella over her, Fuga and Me∣mor following. After a while the
Solemnity.
Mem.
Iust in that Posture, Madam, as you walk'd,
Horacius kill'd three men.
Conc.
Three? what no more? Why, I have kill'd three hundred, would three thousand.
Fan.
Where's that appearance which we have expected? And where's my glasse?
Fug.
You have one in your watch.
Fan.
That's not big enough. Run Fu∣ga; come hither Page [unnumbered]Concupiscence, pin this handsomer.
Ir.
Au. Desp.
(within)
Ile beare
The Crown or nothing.
Mel.
(within)
I the Crown or nothing.
Liv
(Enters and out again)
Ile fit each
Passion to his own content.
Hil.
Boy, fill up the Time with noise.
Boy.
(Sings)
Hail thou great Queen of varous Humours,
Some loving hearts, some raging tumours,
Some sadder soules embracing Rumours;
Such a mixed crew
None yet ever knew
So steady and true
As these in heaping honours on you.
Enter in the midst of the song Amo∣rous ushering the solemnity, Irato bearing the Sword, Malevolo the
Scepter; then six others bearing six
Crowns, two in a rank. First Au∣dax on the right hand bearing a
Crown of Gold, and with him Poet
Ovidian a Lawrel: then Despe∣rato a Turkish Turbant, and with him Timerous a Persian Cydaris:
Lastly Livebyhope a Crown of all colour'd feathers circled at the bot∣tome with Pearle, and with him
Model her Tireman a Coronet of black beaugled wire set with black and Silver spangles. Having done obeysance, they stand and present in
Order.
Am.
Great goddesse, most ador'd of men, behold,
Amorous thy lovingst Passion, brings the rest
To offer at thy Feet Ensignes of State.
Ir.
I that unsheath'd my anger with my Sword
To make thee great, present this Sword of
Justice.
Mal.
I that with Plots have wrung this awful Secpter
From other hands, will hold hold it fast in thine.
Ile finde or make new matter of great ruine
To raise thy Throne,
Au.
This massy Crown of Gold,
The price of nightly danger, won by Au∣dax,
Left by Prudentius, let it crown thy Tem∣ples,
Ovid.
Else let thy shining brow re∣crown this Lawrel,
Worn but by Caesar Monarch of the world,
And thy Ovidii, makers made of thee.
Desp.
Let Desperato wrap thy semal head
With Imniu State, the Crown of that grand
Seignior
Who worships most these two, Woman and Fate.
Tim.
But Timerous brings the Persian
Cydaris,
Which drop'd from Xerxes Temples in his flight.
Liv.
Liveby a Crown of Feathers here presents
To represent the light and easiy yoak,
Which all the Passions hope.
Mod.
Model thy Tireman
Offers for company this Crown, not costly,
But yet of prety Fancie, new Invention.
Fan.
We thank the wit and paynes of all your service.
We'l weare these Crownes in turn, and try them all.
Liveby, reach hither.—Where's Recorder
Memor?
Liv. reaches his feathered Crown.
Au. reaches the
Golden, Mal. the
Scepter.
Mem.
Here.
Au.
First take this, the chief true real
Crown.
Mal.
These were the honours which
Prudentius wore.
Fan.
Were those his honours? they shall ne're be mine.
Those onely I except.
Ir.
Wisely excepted:
Am.
Great Lady, say not so: put on this Crown,
And with your Head crown it: then let
Page [unnumbered] your Hand
Give Life unto this Scepter, and to Us:
Fan.
Ile rather not be Empresse, then assume
Or that, or this.
Au.
Say so?
Hil.
Prettiest of pretties;
We here would have a Queen, and she'l not weare
The Badg and Ensigne that should make her so.
Fan.
Is none a Prince, but she whose head supports
The burden of a Crown?
Liv.
Indeed Authority
Lies not in this: then Kings could do no more
Without the leave of this Authentick toy
Then can a Constable without his staff.
Fan.
A Crown would crooke my neck, which for a Realme
I would not marr.
Hil.
Nor marr that Ruff for three.
Fan.
If this condition needs must be inforc'd,
I willingly resign what you conferr.
Mal.
Then some of us shall be a gainer by it.
Am.
Do not so slight the labour of your Servants,
Who ventur'd far to gain this wreath; in which
Lies the significance of all the rest.
Ir.
Let her refuse once more.
Fan.
My Noble friends,
It signifies too much, too great a Care,
Too high Command. Should my free wandring thoughts
Be hoop'd and compass'd in with weight and care,
Or should that staff keep down your sprightly humours,
Fancie might then be stil'd Prudentia.
No; though I reign, provide your selves live free.
This onely is my Law, that each man use
His proper humour, be it Vice or Vertue,
Inordinate or stay'd. Who mindes his pleasure
Shall best deserve; my selfe will teach him how;
And guide him in't. For your own sakes and mine,
Offer no more that badg of Tyranny.
All but It. Mal. Au. & Desp.
Fancie beyond all Fancie.
Ir.
Plague on Dissemblers;
First on her selfe; then on these rascals here;
Who first perswaded her to take the Crown,
And then admire her for refusing it.
Liv.
Pleases your highnesse with your radiant haire
To grace some other badg of Majesty?
Fan.
To shew I do not quite reject your Favours,
Nor slight the proffered Rule, reach me the
Lawrel,
And then the glass.*
Liv. reaches the Crownes in turn.
Mem.
Ev'n thus did mighty Caesar!
Fan.
Ti's too Imperious This.
Mem.
Wit beyond Caesars!
Au.
Excellent Lady!
Fan.
Tis too Imperious
If rule it mean; if height of wit, too low:
Tis like a Tavern, Bush and begs for sale,
Which Fancy scornes. Small Poet, take it you.
What's next? the Turbant.—What a Turk am I now!
Had I with this a large Seraglio,
I'de lend them to Sr. Amorous.—The next.—
This Persian Cydaris hath made some
Sophies
That scarce were wise before: when I sit next
In Solemn Counsel, Ile weare This.—
But now;—
This feather'd Crown like a Mercurial hat
Shall lift me from the ground; herein Ile grace
The present Fashion.—The Tiremans
Coronet
May be in Fashion too; and pitty 'tis not;
I like it well.—But Liveby, tis your Fa∣vour
That must take place, and give us Majesty.
Set it on firm, and somewhat glancing.—So.
Page [unnumbered]
I, marry Sir; why, this befits us right.
Hil.
Wu'd I had brought my Fooles
Cap to present her,
My fooles Cap would have gotten the start of Favour
From Live by for ever.
Fan.
Thankes Liveby, and Ile study a
Reward.
Liv.
Your humblest Creature.
Fan.
This fits the Quality
Of our intended Rule, which shall be light,
Light as your Liveby said, and soft and sweet,
And various, and pliable to every passion.
I'm bound to All, and much to Amo ous,
And most to Liveby For besides this pre∣sent,
You brought me tidings first of this ad∣vancement,
And Crown'd me in my Eare. Who likes the newes,
Must needs regard the teller.—One I misse
Amongst the Passions, Melancholico.
Liv.
He sullen grew because he might not beare
The massy Crown.—
SCENA V.
Enter to them Melancholico bring∣ing
Fancies Picture Crown'd with
Gold. Painter and Musitian.
Conc.
—Now he hath brought him∣selfe.
Fug.
And somewhat else.
Mel.
Although I wanted Grace
To plant the massy Crown upon your head
In the true substance, yet I found a way
To crown you in this Picture. Here's the
Painter;
And here a try'd Musitian; men of Arts,
Which Melancholy much affects.
Fan.
And I.
But mende your peice. That Crown de∣lights not me.
Some sudden businesse calls me to conferr
With certain Femal Artists!—Liveby,
Take you the keeping of those Orna∣ments.—
(She offers to go forth.
Mal.
What? have we made a shittle∣cock our Queen?
(She returns.)
Fan.
Stay, I had quite forgot to strew mine honours
On these deservers. You Malevolo
Be our chief Counsellour: be you Irato
The Lord Controwler: Livebyhope shall be
The Master of Requests: you Amorous
Shall be the Master of our Ceremonies;
For which here's Poet, Painter, man of
Musick,
And man of Properties: I give you leave
To use them for your selfe in wooing
Morphe.
But you my Poet whom I well respect,
Shall be my Secretary, and you shall turn
The long-breath'd stile of Proclamation
To Lyrick Verse.
Liv.
Most understanding Queen!
Ir.
A prety Curr! my hands now itch to try
Whether he be true Spaniel breed, or no;
O I could beate and kick him, and see whether
He'l fawn then to.—You were not best to flatter
Your selfe into an Earldom, one degree
Above mine Honour.
Tim.
Take heed my Lord: he's likely to be great;
A Favourite can hurt.
Ir.
What then? must I
Therefore take heed? bid me take heed again,
And it shall be the last, last Caution,
You ere shall give. What? give a Lord
good Counsel?
Fan.
The rest, if they themselves can finde a way
How I may pleasure them, I'm crown'd their servant:
You know your Law; each man pursue his humour.
Ile rule by Fancie since I am Queen
Fan;
And use as little wisdom as I can.
Au.
And so it seemes.
Ex. Fan. with her women. Am. Liv.
Mem. Poet, Mus.
(I'v eman.
Ex.
Paint.
Sr. Shall I mend
This peice?
Mel.
Mend! marr, or break it if you will.
Now shall I turn far more precise then ever,
And praise Prudenius dayes throw discon¦tent.
Au.
Slighted? contemned? bafled? fooles preferd?
(Ex. Mel. and Paint.
I'm well rewarded.
Ir.
Hark Sr. Timerous,
You gave me Counsel.
Tim.
Out of Love indeed Sir.
Ir.
You gave Prudentius warning to escape.
Tim.
Not I, indeed not I, Sr. Amorous knowes
Ir.
How ere Ile kick thee now, cause tis my humour;
Ile take thee to be Liveby, tis my Humour.
Tim.
The Queen shall know how you
have kick'd my Knighthood.
Ir.
I kick'd thy breech, two foot above thy Knighthood.
I trust I shall have cause to kill thee too.
Mean while, to stir my choler, Ile con∣trowle
Roughly, most roughly.
Desp.
I to feed my humour,
(For little I shall have to feed my body)
Must run some desperate course. The stream of Favour
(Ex Desp.
Runs crosse from me, to Hope and Amcrous.
Au.
Did we expose our selves to utmost danger
To gain a Crown for Her that more regards
A Cap and Feather?
Mal.
I her Counsellour
Who alters with each puff, more flickering
Then Flag or Streamer? Then Ile write on Sand,
Or print the Aire. But still I wonder much,
How Liveby being absent from our Coun∣sels,
Carri'd the first Intelligence. His telling
In Her esteem outweighs our Action.
Au.
This shewes what women love, the Tong and •atling.
Mal.
How sayes this man of Fate? is Livebyhope,
That primrose thing, that forward bud, long liv'd?
Ir.
Ha! I think no; unlesse I may con∣troule him
To be no Favourite.
Mal.
Men of that calling,
If I might counsel them for their best safety,
Ought not to live too long. For we can hate.
Au.
Challeng.
Ir.
Or stab.
Au.
And call these things our Humours.
SCENA. VI.
Enter to them Intellectus Agens.
Int.
The safest Armour is un weapon'd boldnesse.
Thus priviledg'd Ile trust their savage hands.
All happinesse, that is, true Liberty
Unto the Passions; how d'e like your choice?
Au.
First tell us where Prudentius hides himselfe.
Int.
Within a Sanctuary, where his thoughts
Are sequestred from earthly cares to hea∣ven.
Au.
Our choice we like beyond Pru∣dentius,
Just so, as Fancie Livebys feather'd crown
Beyond my Golden.
Mal.
We like the power of chusing.
Ir.
And some variety though join'd with loosing—
Ex. Passions.
Int.
Who ere Usurps, considers not his task,
How he must sooth the lowest of his vil∣laines,
Give highest place and all to every one,
Else all will be displeas'd. The King shall know,
Page [unnumbered]
What seeds of discontent and headlon folly
Appeare already in this warring state.
Clos'd in too safe, they broke their hedg; what lesse
Then wandring now through wretched wildernesse?
Ex. Int. Agens.
Finis Actus secun.
