Poems: by Francis Beaumont, Gent.: Viz. The hermaphrodite. The remedy of love. Elegies. Sonnets, with other poems.

The Prologue to the Tragedy, called, The false One.

NEw Titles warrant not a Play for new, The Subject being old and 'tis as true; Fresh and neat matter may with ease be fram'd Out of their Stories, that have oft been nam'd With glory on the Stage: what borrows he From him that wrought old Priams Tragedy That writes his love to Hecuba? sure to tell Of Caesars amorous heats, and how he fell

In the Capitall, can never be the same To the Judicious: nor will such blame Those that penn'd this forbarrennesse, when they find Young Cleopatra here, and her great mind Express'd to th' height, with us a Maid and free, And how he rated her Virginity: We treat not of what boldnesse she did dye, Nor of her fatall love to Anthony; What we present and offer to your view (Upon their Faiths) the Stage yet never knew; Let reason then first to your wils give Laws, And after judge of them, and of their cause.

The Epilogue.

I Now should wish another had my place, But that I hope to come off, and with grace, And but expresse some signe that you are pleas'd, We of our doubts, they of their feares are eas'd; I would beg further (Gentlemen) and much say In the favour of our selves, them, and the Play, Did I not rest assured? the most I see Hate Impudence, and cherish Modesty.

First Song to the False One, a Tragedy.

LOok out bright Eyes, and blesse the Aire, Even in shaddows you are faire: Shut up, beauty is like fire That breakes out clearer still and higher; Though your body be confin'd, And lost love a pris'ner bound, Yet the beauty of your mind, Neither Cheeke, nor Chaine hath found. Looke out Nobly then, and dare, Even the Fetters that you weare.

The second Song.

ISis the Goddesse of this Land Bids thee (great Caesar) understand And marke our Customes, and first know With greedy eyes, these watch the flow Of plenteous Nilus when he comes With Songs, with Dances, Timbrels, Drums, They entertaine him, cut his way, And give his proud heads leave to play; Nilus himselfe shall rise and shew His matchlesse wealth in overflow.

The third Song.

COme let us help the Reverend Nyle, He's very old (alas the while) Let us dig him easie waies, And prepare a thousand plaies To delight his streams, let's sing A loud welcome to our spring; This way let his curling heads Fall into our new-made beds; This way let his wanton spawns Friske and glide it o're the Lawns; This way profit comes and gaine, How he tumbles here amaine. How his waters haste to fall In our Channell, labour all And let him in: let Nylus flow, And perpetuall plenty show; With Incense let us blesse the brim, And as the wanton Fishes swim, Let us Gums, and Garlands fling, And loud our Timbrels ring; Come, (old Father) come away, Our Labour is our Holiday. Isis. Here comes the aged River now, VVith Garlands of great Pearle his brow, Begirt and rounded, in his flow All things take life, and all things grow;

A Thousand wealthy treasures still To do him service at his will, Follow his rising Floud, and powre Perpetuall blessings in our store. Heare him, and next there will advance His Sacred Heads to tread a Dance In honour of my Royall Guest, Marke them too, and you have a Feast.

The fourth Song.

MAke roome, for my rich waters fall, And blesse my Floud, Nylus come flowing to you all Encrease and good. Now the Plants and Flowers shall spring, And the merry Ploughman sing. In my hidden waves I bring Bread, and Wine, and every thing; Let the Damsels sing me in, Sing aloud that I may rise: Your Holy Feasts and houres begin, And each man brings a Sacrifice; Now my wanton Pearles I show That to Ladies faire necks grow; Now my Gold And Treasures that can ne're be told, Shall blesse this Land by my rich Flow; And after this to crown your eyes, My hidden holy bed arise.