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THE FIFTH SONG

Til his high will was done. The Olympian And not a creature nighi 'em,
games

Might catch his sigh as he doth passe,
Which long had slept at these wish'd nuptials And clip his wings, and breake his glasse,
He pleas'd to have renewed, and all his knights And keep 'em ever by 'em.
Are gathered hither, who within their tents
Rest on this hill, upon whose rising head
The Alter is discovered, with the Priests about it,

When all is done as they ascend.
and the Statues under it, and the Knights lying
in their tents on each side neere the top of the Peace and silence be the guide
hill.

To the man, and to the bride:

If there be a joy yet new Behold Jove's altar and his blessed priests In marriage, let it fall on you, Moving about it: come you holy men,

That all the world may wonder: And with your voices draw these youths along, If we should stay we should do worse, That till Jove's music call them to their games, And turne our blessings to a curse, Their active sports may give a blest content

By keeping you asunder. To those for whom they are againe begun.

THE FIRST SONG.

THE PROLOGUE TO THE MAD LOYER.

THE SECOND SONG

THE THIRD SONG

PROLOGUES, EPILOGUES, AND SONGS TO When the priests descend, and the knights follow

SEVERALL PLAIES. them.

WRITTEN BY MR. FRANCIS BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. Suake off your heavy trance And leape into a dance, Such as no mortals use to tread, Fit only for Apollo To play to, for the moon to lead,

To please all's impossible, and to despaire
And all the stars to follow.

Ruines our selves, and damps the writer's care:
Would we knew what to do, or say, or when
To find the minds here equall with the men !

But we must venture; now to sea we go,
At the end of the first dance,

Faire fortune with us, give us roome and blow:

Remember y'are all venturers; and in this play On, blessed youths, for Jove doth pause,

How many twelvepences ye have stowed this day; Laying aside his graver laws

Remember for returne of your delight, For this device:

We lanch and plough through stormes of feare and And at the wedding such a paire

spight:. Each dance is taken for a prayer,

Give us your forewinds fairely, fill our wings, Each song a sacrifice.

And steere us right, and as the sailers sing,
Loaden with wealth on wanton seas, so we
Shall make our home-bound royage cheerefully :

And you our noble merchants, for your treasure, After their many dances, when they are to take Share equally the fraught, we run for pleasure.

the ladies single. More pleasing were these sweet delights, If ladies mov'd as well as knights;

Here lies the doubt now, let our plaies be good, Run every one of you and catch

Our own care sayling equall in this floud ; A nymph in honour of this match,

Our preparations new, new our attire, And whisper boldly in her eare,

Yet here we are becalm'd still, still i'th' mire ; Jove will but laugh if you forsweare.

Here we stick fast, is there no way to cleare
This passage of your judgment, and our feare?

No mitigation of that law? brave friends,
And this daie's sins he doth resolve,

Consider we are yours, made for your ends, That we his priests should all absolve.

And every thing preserves it selfe, each will,

If not perverse and crooked, utters still,
THE FOURTH SONG

The best of that it ventures in : have care

Even for your pleasure's sake, of what you are, When they have parted with the ladies, a shrill

And do not ruine all ; you may frowne still mus que sounds, supposed to be that which cals

But 'tis the nobler way to check the will.
them to the Olympian games, at which they all
make a seeming preparation to depart.

FIRST SONG TO THE MAD LOYER.
You should stay longer, if we durst,
Away, alas, that he that first

STRE. Onpheus, I am come from the deeps below Gave Time wild wings to fly away,

To thee, fond man, the plagues of love to show, Has now no power to make him stay;

To the faire fields, where loves eternall dwell, And though these games must needs be played, There's none that come, but first they passe I would these paire when they are layed,

through Hell.

THE EPILOGUE.

ALL.

Harke and beware, unlesse thou hast lor'd ever, The rant-guard marches bravely, hark the drumas

Belor'd againe, thou shalt see those joyes never. dub, dub. Marke how they groane that dyed despairing, They meet, they meet, now the battle comes; O lake heed then :

See how the arrors fie,
Harke how they houle for erer daring,

That darken all the skie;
All these were men :

Harke how the trumpets sound,
They that be fooles ani dye for fame,

Harke how the bils rebonnd-tara, tara, tara. They lose their naine,

Harke how the borses charge in boyes, in boys in, And they that bleed,

The battle torters, now the wounds begio, (lara, tara, Harke how they speed.

O how thy cry, Now in cold frosts, now srorching Gres,

O how they dye. They sit and curse their lust desires :

Roome for the valiant Memnon armed with thundet, Nor shall their soules be free from pains and feares, See how he breakes the rankes asunder: Till women waft them over in their teares.

They fly, they ny, Eumenes bath the chase,

And brave Politins makes good his place.
THE SECOND SONG TO THE MAD LOVER.

To the plaines, to the woods,

To the rocks, to the douds,
ORPH. CHARON, O Charon,
Thou wafter of the soules to blisse. or bane.

They fly for sncrour: follow, follow, follor,

Harke how the souldiers bollow; [hey, Ley.-CAA. Who cals the ferry-man of Hell?

Brave Diocles is dead, ORPH. Come neare

And all his souldiers Bed, And say who lives in joy, and whom in feare.

The battle's won and lost, CHA. Those that dye well, eternall joy shall follow;

That many a life bath cast. Those that dye ill, their own foule fate shall

swallow. ORPA. Shall thy black barke those guilty spirits That kill theinselves for love.

(stow

THE PROLOGUE TO THE SPANISH CHA. O no, no,

CURATE.
My courage cracks when such great sins are neare, To tell ye (gentlemen) we have a play,
No wind blows faire, nor I my selfe can steare.

ORPR. What lorers passe and in Elysium raigne? A new one too, and that 'tis lanch'd to day,
cha. Those gentle loves that are belov'd againe.

The name ye know, that's nothing to my story; OKPH. This souldier loves, and faine wonld dye

To tell you 'tis familiar, void of glory, Shall be go on?

(to win,

Of state, of bitternesse of wit you'l say, CHA. No, 'tis too foule a sin,

For that is now held wit that tends that way, lle must not come aboard; I dare not row,

Which we avoid to tell you too, till merry, Stormes of despaire and guilty bloud will blow.

And ineane to make you pleasant, and not weary: ORPR. Sball time release him, say?

The streame that guides ye easie to attend cas. No, no, no, 10,

To tell you that 'tis guod is to no end, Nor time, nor death can alter is, nor prayer;

If you beleeve iyot; nay to go thus far, My hoat is destiny, and who then dare,

To sweare it, if you sweare against it, were But those appointe, come aboard? Live still

To assure you any thing, unlesse you gee,
And love by reason, mortall, not by will.

And so conceire, is vanity in me;
Obre. And when thy mistris shall close up thine Therefore I leave it to it selfe, and pray
CHA. Then cnine aboard and passe. [eyes.

Like a good barque.it may worke out to day, ORPII. Till vben be wise.

And stem all doubts; 'twas built for such a proose, CHA. Till when be wise,

And we hope high!y, if she lie aloofe
For her own vantage, to give wind at will;

Why, let her worke, only be you but still,
O FAIRE, sweet goddesse, queet of loves,

And sweet opinion'd, and we are bound to say, Soft and gentle as thy doves,

You are worthy judges, and you crown the play. Humble eyed, and ever ruing Those poore hearts their loves pursuing. O thou mother of delights,

The play is done, yet our suite nerer enris, Crowner of all happy nights,

Still when you part you would still part our friends, Star of deare cootent and pleasure,

Oar noblest friends; if onght have falae amisse, Of matuall love the endlesse treasure,

Oh let it be sufficient that it is, Accept this sacrifice we bring;

And you have pardon'd it; in buildings great Thou continuall youth and spring,

All the whole body cannot be so beat Grapt this lady her desires,

But something may be mended; those are faire, And every houre wee'l crown thy fires.

And worthy lave, that may destroy, but spare THE FOURTH SONG TO THE MAD LOVER. ARNE, arme, arme, arme, the scouts are all come in, Keep your rankes close, and now your honour wio. Behold from yonder bill the foe appeares,

PROLOGUE TO THE FRENCH LAWYER Bows, bils, glaves, arrows, shields, and speares, Like a darke wood be comes, or tempest powring; To promise much before a play begin, O view the wings of horse the meadows scowring. And when 'tis done aske pardon, were a sin

THE THIRD SONG TO THE MAD LOVER.

THE EPILOGUE.

THE

Wee'l not be guilty of: and to excuse
Before we know a fault, were to abuse
The writers and our selves; for I dare say
We all are fool'd if this be not a play,
And such a play as shall (so should plaies do)
Impe times dull wings, and make you merry too;
'Twas to that purpose writ, so we intend it,
And we have our wish'd ends if you commend it.

And we beleeve them, the plot neat and new,
Fashioned by those that are approv'd by you;.
Only 'twill crave attention in the most,
Because one point unmask'd the whole is lost;
Heare first then, and judge after, and be free,
And as our cause is let our censure be.

THE EPILOGUE.

GENTI FMEN, I am sent forth to enquire what you decree Of us and our poets, they will be This night exceeding inerry, so will we; If you approve their labours they professe, You are their patrons, and we say no lesse ; Resolve us then, for you can only tell Whether we have done idly, or done well.

THE EPILOGUE. , Why there should be an epilogue to a play, I know no cause, the old and usuall way for which they were made, was to entreat the grace Of such as were spectators in this place; And time, 'tis to no purpose, for I know What you resolve already to bestow Will not be alter'd, whatsoe're I say In the behalfe of us, and of the play, Only to quit our doubts, if you thinke fit, You may, or cry it up, or silence it.

ANOTHER PROLOGUE FOR THE SAME PLAY.

FIRST SONG TO THE PLAY,

CALLED TUE LITTLE FRENCH LAWYER, CALI ED AN

EPITHAIAMINE SONG, AT TAE WEDDING.
COME away, bring on the bride,
And place her by her lover's side ;
You faire troope of maids attend lier,
Pure and holy thoughts befriend her;
Blush and wish you virgins all
Many such faire nights may fall.

CHORUS:
Hymen fill the house with joy,
All thy sacred fires iinploy ;
Blesse the bed with holy love,
Now faire orbe of beauty move.

We wish, if it were possible, you knew
What we would give for this night's look, if new,
It being our ajribition to delight
Our kind spectators with what's good and right,
Yet so far known, and credit me, 'twas made,
By such as were held workmen in their trade;
At a time too, when they, as I divine,
Were truly merry, and dranke lusty wine,
The nectar of the Muses; some are here,
I dare presume, to whom it did appeare
A well-drawn piece, which gave a lawfull birth
io passionate scenes mixt with no vnlgar mirth,
But unto such to whoin 'tis kuown by fame
From others, perhaps only by the name;
I am a suitor, that they would prepare
Sound pallats, and then judge their bill of fare.
It were injustice to discry this now,
For being lik'd before, you may allow
Yourcandour safe what's taught in the okl schooles,
All such as lived before you were not fooles.

SECOND SONG TO THE LITTLE FRENCII LAWYER,

CALLED, SONG IN THE WOOD.

THE EPILOGUE.

Trus way, this way, come and hear,
You that hold these pleasures dear;
Fill your ears with our swert sound,
Wbil'st we melt the frozen ground:
This way, come, make hast, ( faire,
Ļet your cleare eyes gild the aire;
Come and blesse us with your sight,
This
way,

tbis way seeke delight.

I SPEAKE much in the prologue for the play,
To its desert I hope, yet you might say,
Should I change now from that which then was
Or in a syl'able grow lesse confident, (meant,
I were weak-bearted. I am still the same,
In my opinion, and forbeare to frame
Qualification, or excuse, if you
Concor with me, and hold my judgment true;
Shew it with any sigue, and from this place,
And send me off exploded, or with grace.

PLAY,

THE PROLOGUE TO THE PLAY,

CALLED, THE CUSTOME OF THE COUNTREY. So free this worke is (gentlemen) from offence, That we are confident it needs no defence From us, or from the pacts, we dare looke On any man that brings his table booke To write down what again he may repeat At some great table, to deserve his meat; Let such come swel'd with malice to apply What is mirth here, there for an injury. Nor lord, nor lady we have tax’d, nor statc, Nor any private person, their poore hate Will be starv'd here, for envy shall not find One touch that may be wrested to her mind;. And yet despaire not gentlemen, the play Is quick and witty, so the poets say.

THE PROLOGUE TO THE PLAY,

CALLED, TIE NOBLE GENTLEMAN. Wit is become an antic, and puts on As many shapes of variation, To court the times' applause, as the times dare Change severall fashions, nothing is thought rare Which is not new and follow'd; yet me know That what was worne some twenty yeare ago, Comes into grace againe, and we pursue That custome by presenting to your view A play in fashion then, not doubting now But 'twill appeare the same, if you allow

!

THE THIRD SONG.

Nor history,

That likely

Worth to their noble memory, whose name,

THE SECOND SONG.
Boyoud all power of death live in their fame.

Away, delights, go seeke some other dwelling,

For I inust dye;
THE EPILOGUE.

Farewell, false love, thy tongue is ever telling
Tue monuments of vertue and desert

Lye after lye.
Appeare more goodly when the glosse of art For ever let me rest now from thy smarts,
is eaten off by time, than when at first

Alas for pitty go
They were set up, not censured at the worst;

And fire their hearts
We have done our best, for your contents to fit, That have been bard to thee, mine was not sa
With new paines this old monument of wit.

Never againe deluding love shall know me,

For I will dye:
And all those griefes that thinke to over-grow me,

Shall be as I;
THE PROLOGUE TO TILE PLAY,

For ever will 1 sleepe while poore

maids cry, CALLED, THE CAPTAINE.

Alas, for pity stay,

And let us dye, To please you with this play we feare will be (So does the author too) a mystery

With thee men cannot mock us in the day.
Some what above our art, for all men's eyes,
Eares, faith and judgements are not of one size; · Come hither, you that love, and heare me sing
For to say truth and not to Hatter ye,

Of joyes still growing,
This is nor comedy, por tragedy,

Greene, fresh, and lusty, as the pride of spring, nor any thing that may

And ever blowing; (Yet in a weeke) be made a perfect play:

Come hither, youths that blush and dare not know Yet those that love to laugh, and those that think

What is desire, Twelve pence goes further this way than in drinke,

And old men worse than you, that cannot blow
Or dansels; if they marke the matter through,

One sparke of tire;
May stumblc on a foolish toy or two,
will make them shew their teeth: pray, for my

And with the power of my enchanting song

Boyes shall be able men, and old men yong.
am your first man, do not take [sake, come hither you that hope, and you that cry,
A distaste before you feel it, fur ye may
When this is bist to ashes have a play.

Leave off complaining,
And here to out-bisse this he patient then,

Youth, strength, and beauty that shall never dye, (My honour done) you are welcome gentleinen.

Are here remaining.
Come hither fooles and blush you stay so long

From being blest,
THE EPILOGUE.
If you mislike (as you shall ever be

And mad men worse than you, that suffer wrong,

Yet seeke no rest;
Your own free judges) this play utterly,
For your own poblenesse yet do not hisse,

And in an houre with my enchanting song
But as you go by, say it was amisse,

You shall be ever pleas'd, and young maids long.
And we will mend, chide us, but let it be;
Never let it be in coole blond.

O'
If I have any, this l'le say for all,
my honesty,

SONG TO THE PLAY,
Our meaning was te please you still, and shall.

CALLED,

BEGGER'S BUSH.
Cast our caps

and care away: this is beggers FIRST SONG TO THE PLAY, CALLED, THE CAPTAINE.

holiday,

[and sing ; Tell me dearest what is love?

At the crowning of our king thus we ever dance 'Tis a lightning froin above,

In the world look out and see, wher so happy a 'Tis an arrow, 'tis a fire,

(do we; 'Tis a boy they call desire.

Where the nation live so free, and so merry as

Be it peace, or be it war, here at liberty we are, Gapes to have

And enjoy our ease and rest, to the field we are Those poore foules that long to prove.

not prest :

[gown, 1. Tell me more, are women true?

Nor are call'd into the town to be troubled with the 2. Yes some are, and some as you;

Hang all offices we cry, and the magistrate too by ; Some are willing, some are strange,

When the subsidies encreast, we are not a penny

[straw, Since you men first taught to change.

ceast;
BOTII. And till troth

Now will any goe to law with the begger for a
All which happinesse he brags he doth owe unto

THE

prince as he

BOTII. 'Tis a grave

his rags.

Be in both,
All shall love to love anew.
1. Tell me more, yet can they grieve?
2. Yes, and sicken sore, but live:
And be wise and delay
When you men are as wise as they.
BOTH. Then I see

Faith will be
Never till they both beleeve.

THE PROLOGUE TO THE PLAY,

CALLED, THE COXCOMBE.
This comedy long forgot, by some thought dead,
By us preserv'd, once more doth raise her bead;

And to your noble censures does present

Shut up, beauty is like Gre Her ontward forme, and inward ornainent.

That breakes out clearer still and higher ; Nor let this smell of arrogance, since 'tis known Though your body be contin'd, The makers that contest it for their own,

And lost love a pris'njer bound,
Were this way skilfull, and without the crime Yet the beauty of your mind,
Of Hatteries, I might say, did please the time; Neither cheeke, nor chaine bath found.
The worke it selfe too, when it first caine forth, Looke out nobly then, and dare,
In the opinion of inen of worth,

Even the fetters that you weare.
Was well receiv'd and favour'd, though some rude
And harsh among the ignorant multitude.
That relish grosse food better than a dish
(That's cook’d with care, and served in to the wish Isis, the goddesse of this land,

Bids thee (great Cæsar) understand
Of curious pallats) wanting wit and strength
Truly to judge, condecou'd it for the length,

And marke our customes, and first kuow, That fault's reform’d, and now 'tis to be tri'd

With greedy eyes, these watch the flow

Of plenteons Nilus, when he comes
Before such judges, 'twill not be deny'd
A free and noble hearing nur feare I

With songs, with dances, tinbrels, drums, But 'twill deserve to have free liberty,

They entertaine him, cut his way,

And give bis proud leads leave to play i Anil give you cause (and with content) to say,

Nilus himselfo shall rise and shew Their care was good that did revive this play.

His matchlesse wealth in overflow.

TRE SECOND SONG.

THE EPILOGUE.

THE THIRD SONG. 'Tis ended, but ny hopes and feare begin, Nor can it be inputed as a sin

CONE let us help the reverend Nylc, In me to wish it favour, if this night

He's very old (alas the while),
To the judicious it hath given light,

Let us dig him easie waies,
I have my ends, and may such, for their grace And prepare a thousanil plaies
Vouchsafed to this, find theirs in every place,

To delight his streais, let's sing
A loud welcome to our spring;
This way let his curling heads

Fall into our new made beds ;
THE PROLOGUE TO THE TRAGEDY, This way let his wanton spawns

Frisk and glide it o're the lawns;
CALLED, THE FALSE ONI.

This way profit comes and gaine,
New titles warrant not a play for new,

How he tumbles here amaine, The subject being old and 'tis as true ;

How his waters haste to fall Fresh and neat matier may with ease be fram'd In our cbannell, labour all Out of their stories, that have oft been nam'd

And let him in: lat Nilus flow, With glory on the stage: what borrows he

And perpetual plenty show ; From him that wrought old Priatn's tragedy

With incense let is blesse the brini, That writes his love to Hecuba ? sure to tell

And as the wauton lisbes swim, Of Cæsar's amorous heats, and how he fell

Let us gims, and garlands fiius,
In the capitall, can never be the same

And laud our timbrels ring,
To the judicious : nor will suoh blame (find Come. (old father) come away,
Those that n'd this for barrennesse, when they Our labour is our holiday.
Young Cleopatra here and her great mind

Isis. Here comes the aged river now, Express'd to th' height, with us a maid and free, With garlands of great pea: le bis brow And how be rated her virginity:

Begirt and rounded, in his flow We treat pot of what boldnesse she did dye,

All things take life, and all things grow; Nor of her fatall love to Antony ;

thousand wealthy treasure's still What we present and offer to your view

To do him service at his vill, (Upon their faiths) the stage yet never knew ;

Follow his rising floud, and powre Let reason ihen first to your wils give laws,

Perpetuall blessings in our store. And after judge of them, and of their cause.

Heare him, and next there will advance

His sacred heads to tread a dance
THE EPILOGUE.

In honour of my rorall guest,

Marke them too, and you have a feast. 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;

MAKE roome, for my rich waters' fall, I would beg further (gentlemen) and much say

And blesse my floud, In the favour of our selves, them, and the play,

Nylus come flowing to you all Did I not rest assur'd ? the most ) see

Encrease and good. Hate impudence, and cherish modesty,

Now the plants and towers shall sprig..

And the merry ploughman sing.
FIRST SONG TO THE PALSE ONE, A TRAGEDY. In my bidden' waves I bring

Bread, and wine, and every thing i
Look out, bright eyes, and blesse the aire, Let the damsels sing me in,
Even in shadows you are faire :

Sing aloud that I may rise

THE FOURTH SOXG.

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