Adon. Madam, you are not modest. I affect
The unseen beauty that adorns the mind:
This looseness makes you foul in Adon's eye.
If you will tempt me, let me in your face
Read blushfulness and fear; a modest fear
Would make your cheek seem much more beautiful.
Ven.
wert thou made of stone,
I have heat to melt thee; I am Queen of Love.
There is no practice art of dalliance

Of which I am not mistress, and can use.

I have kisses that can murder unkind words,

And strangle hatred that the gall sends forth;
Touches to raise thee, were thy spirits half dead;
Words that can pour affection down thy cars.

Love me thou canst not chuse; thou shalt not chuse. Adon. Madam, you woo not well. Men covet not These proffer'd pleasures, but love sweets denied. These prostituted pleasures surfeit still;

Where's fear, or doubt, men sue with best good will.

Ven. Thou canst instruct the Queen of Love in love. Thou shalt not, Adon, take me by the hand; Yet, if thou needs will force me, take my palm. I'll frown on him: alas! my brow's so smooth, It will not bear a wrinkle.-Hie thee hence Unto the chace, and leave me; but not yet: I'll sleep this night npon Endymion's bank, On which the Swain was courted by the Moon. Dare not to come; thou art in our disgrace: Yet, if thou come, I can afford thee place!

Phabus jeers Vulcan.

Vul. Good morrow, Phoebus; what's the news

abroad?—

For thou seest all things in the world are done,

Men act by day-light, or the sight of sun.

Phob. Sometime I cast my eye upon the sea,
To see the tumbling seal or porpoise play.

There see I merchants trading, and their sails
Big-bellied with the wind; sea fights sometimes
Rise with their smoke-thick clouds to dark my beams;
Sometimes I fix my face upon the earth,

With my warm fervour to give metals, trees,

Herbs, plants and flower, life. Here in gardens walk
Loose Ladies with their Lovers arm in arm.
Yonder the laboring Plowman drives his team.
Further I may behold main battles picht;
And whom I favour most (by the wind's help)
I can assist with my transparent rays.

Here spy I cattle feeding; forests there

Stored with wild beasts; here shepherds with their lasses,
Piping beneath the trees while their flocks graze.
In cities I see trading, walking, bargaining,

Buying and selling, goodness, badness, all things-
And shine alike on all.

Vul. Thrice happy Phoebus,

That, whilst poor Vulcan is confin'd to Lemnos,
Hast every day these pleasures. What news else?
Phab. No Emperor walks forth, but I see his state ;
Nor sports, but I his pastimes can behold.

I see all coronations, funerals,

Marts, fairs, assemblies, pageants, sights and shows.
No hunting, but I better see the chace

Than they that rouse the game. What see I not?
There's not a window, but my beams break in;
No chink or cranny, but my rays pierce through;
And there I see, O Vulcan, wond'rous things:
Things that thyself, nor any God besides,
Would give belief to.

And, shall I tell thee, Vulcan, t'other day

What I beheld?—I saw the great God Mars

Vul. God Mars

Phob. As I was peeping through a cranny, abed

Vul. Abed! with whom?-some pretty Wench, I

warrant.

Phob. She was a pretty Wench.

Vul. Tell me, good Phoebus,

That, when I meet him, I may flout God Mars;
Tell me, but tell me truly, on thy life.

Phœb. Not to dissemble, Vulcan, 'twas thy wife!

The Peers of Greece go in quest of Hercules, and find him in woman's weeds, spinning with Omphale.

Jason. Our business was to Theban Hercules. 'Twas told us, he remain'd with Omphale,

The Theban Queen.

Telamon. Speak, which is Omphale? or which Alcides?

Pollux. Lady, our purpose was to Hercules; Shew us the man.

Omp. Behold him here.

Atreus. Where?

Omph. There, at his task.

Jas. Alas, this Hercules !

This is some base effeminate Groom, not he
That with his puissance frighted all the earth.

Her. Hath Jason, Nestor, Castor, Telamon,
Atreus, Pollux, all forgot their friend?
We are the man.

Jas. Woman, we know thee not:
We came to seek the Jove-born Hercules,
That in his cradle strangled Juno's snakes,
And triumph'd in the brave Olympic games.
He that the Cleonean lion slew,

Th' Erimanthian bear, the bull of Marathon,
The Lernean hydra, and the winged hart.

Tel. We would see the Theban
That Cacus slew, Busiris sacrificed,

And to his horses hurl'd stern Diomrd
To be devour'd.

Pol. That freed Hesione

From the sea whale, and after ransack'd Troy,
And with his own hand slew Laomedon.

Nes. He by whom Dercilus and Albion fell;
He that Ecalia and Betricia won.

Atr. That monstrous Geryon with his three heads vanquisht,

With Linus, Lichas that usurpt in Thebes,

And captived there his beauteous Megara.

Pol. That Hercules by whom the Centaurs fell, Great Achelous, the Stymphalides,

And the Cremona giants: where is he?

Tel. That trait'rous Nessus with a shaft transfixt, Strangled Antheus, purged Augeus' stalls,

Won the bright apples of th' Hesperides.

Jas. He that the Amazonian baldrick won;

That Achelous with his club subdued,

And won from him the Pride of Caledon,

Fair Deianeira, that now mourns in Thebes

For absence of the noble Hercules !

Atr. To him we came; but, since he lives not here,

Come, Lords; we will return these presents back

Unto the constant Lady, whence they came.

Her. Stay, Lords

Jas. 'Mongst women ?—

Her. For that Theban's sake,

Whom you profess to love, and came to seek,
Abide awhile; and by my love to Greece,
I'll bring before you that lost Hercules,
For whom you came to enquire.

Tel. It works, it works

Her. How have I lost myself!

Did we all this? Where is that spirit become,
That was in us? no marvel, Hercules,

That thou be'st strange to them, that thus disguised
Art to thyself unknown !—hence with this distaff,
And base effeminate chares; hence, womanish tires;
And let me once more be myself again.

Your pardon, Omphale!

[I cannot take leave of this Drama without noticing a touch of the truest pathos, which the writer has put into the mouth of Meleager, as he is wasting away by the operation of the fatal brand, administered to him by his wretched Mother.

My flame encreaseth still-Oh Father Œneus;
And you, Althea, whom I would call Mother,
But that my genius prompts me thou'rt unkind:
And yet farewell!

What is the boasted "Forgive me, but forgive me!" of the dying wife of Shore in Rowe, compared with these three little words?]

THE BATTLE OF ALCAZAR: A TRAGEDY, 1594.

Muly Mahamet, driven from his throne into a desart, robs the Lioness to feed his fainting Wife Calipolis.

Muly. Hold thee, Calipolis; feed, and faint no more. This flesh I forced from a Lioness;

Meat of a Princess, for a Princess' meat.

Learn by her noble stomach to esteem

Penury plenty in extremest dearth;

Who, when she saw her foragement bereft,
Pined not in melancholy or childish fear;

But, as brave minds are strongest in extremes,