John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  I shall.

  Sos. Put her into a swoon, with my little wand, and so forth! That’s more than ever I could do. These are terrible circumstances, that some Sosia or other has been here. Now, if he has literally beaten her, gramercy, brother Sosia! he has but done what I would have done, if I had durst. But I am afraid it was only a damned love-figure; and that the wand, that laid her asleep, might signify the peace-maker.

  [Aside.

  Brom. Now you are snuffling up on a cold scent, for some pitiful excuse. I know you; twenty to one, but you will plead a drunkenness; you are used to be pot-valiant.

  Sos. I was pumping, and I thank her, she has invented for me. — Yes, Bromia, I must confess

  I was exalted; and, possibly, I might scour upon thee, or perhaps be a little more familiar with thy person, by the way of kindness, than if I had been sober: but, pr’ythee, inform me what I did that I may consider what satisfaction I am to make thee.

  Brom. Are you there at your dog-tricks!

  You would be forgetting, would you? like a drunken bully that affronts over night, and, when he is called to account the next morning, remembers nothing of the quarrel; and asks pardon, to avoid fighting.

  Sos. By Bacchus, I was overtaken; but I should be loath that I committed any folly with thee.

  Brom. I am sure, I kept myself awake all night, that I did, in expectation of your coming.

  [Crying.

  Sos. But what amends did I make thee, when

  I came?

  Brom. You know well enough, to my sorrow, but that you play the hypocrite.

  Sos. I warrant I was monstrous kind to thee.

  Brom. Yes, monstrous kind indeed: you never said a truer word; for, when I came to kiss you, you pulled away your mouth, and turned your cheek to me.

  Sos. Good.

  Brom. How, good! Here’s fine impudence!

  He justifies!

  Sos. Yes, I do justify, that I turned my cheek, like a prudent person, that my breath might not offend thee; for, now I remember, I had eaten garlic.

  Brom. Ay, you remember, and forget, just as it makes for you, or against you; but, to mend the matter, you never spoke one civil word to me; but stood like a stock, without sense or motion.

  Sos. Yet better. — [Aside.

  Brom. After which, I lovingly invited you to take your place in your nuptial bed, as the laws of matrimony oblige you; and you inhumanly refused me.

  Sos. Ay, there’s the main point of the business! Art thou morally certain, that I refused thee? Look me now in the face, and say I did not commit matrimony with thee!

  Brom. I wonder how thou canst look me in the face, after that refusal!

  Sos. Say it once again, that I did not feloniously come to bed to thee!

  Brom. No, thou cold traitor, thou know’st thou didst not.

  Sos. Best of all!— ’twas discreetly done of me to abstain.

  Brom. What, do you insult upon me too?

  Sos. No, I do not insult upon you — but —

  Brom. But what? How was it discreetly done, then? ha!

  Sos. Because it is the received opinion of physicians, that nothing but puling chits and booby-fools are procreated in drunkenness.

  Brom. A received opinion, snivel-guts! I ‘ll be judged by all the married women of this town, if any one of them has received it. The devil take the physicians for meddling in our matters! If a husband will be ruled by them, there are five weeks of abstinence in dog-days too; for fear a child, that was got in August, should be borne just nine months after, and be blear-eyed, like a May kitten.

  Sos. Let the physicians alone; they are honest men, whatever the world says of them. But, for a certain reason, that I best know, I am glad that matter ended so fairly and peaceably betwixt us.

  Brom. Yes, ’twas very fair and peaceably; to strike a woman down, and beat her most outrageously.

  Sos. Is’t possible that I drubbed thee?

  Brom. I find your drift; you would fain be provoking me to a new trial now: but, i’ faith, you shall bring me to no more handy-blows; I shall make bold to trust to my tongue hereafter.

  You never durst have offered to hold up a finger against me, till you went a-trooping.

  Sos. Then I am a conqueror; and I laud my own courage: this renown I have achieved by soldiership and stratagem. Know your duty, spouse, henceforward, to your supreme commander. — [Strutting.

  Enter Jupiter and Phædra, attended by Musicians and Dancers.

  Phœd. Indeed I wondered at your quick return.

  Jup. Even so almighty love will have it, Phædra;

  And the stern goddess of sweet-bitter cares,

  Who bows our necks beneath her brazen yoke.

  I would have manned my heart, and held it out;

  But, when I thought of what I had possessed,

  Those joys, that never end, but to begin,

  Oh, I am all on fire to make my peace;

  And die, Jove knows, as much as I can die,

  Till I am reconciled.

  Phœd. I fear ‘twill be in vain.

  Jup. ’Tis difficult:

  But nothing is impossible to love;

  To love like mine; for I have proved his force,

  And my Alcmena too has felt his dart.

  If I submit, there’s hope.

  Phœd. ’Tis possible I may solicit for you.

  Jup. But wilt thou promise me to do thy best?

  Phœd. Nay, I promise nothing — unless you begin to promise first. — [Curtsying.

  Jup. I will not be ungrateful.

  Phœd. Well; I’ll try to bring her to the window; you shall have a fair shot at her; if you can bring her down, you are a good marksman.

  Jup. That’s all I ask;

  And I will so reward thee, gentle Phædra —

  Phæd. What, with catsguts and rosin! This

  Sol-la is but a lamentable empty sound.

  Jup. Then, there’s a sound will please thee better. — [ Throwing her a purse.

  Phæd. Ay, there’s something of melody in this sound. I could dance all day to the music of Chink, Chink.

  Jup. Go, Sosia, round our Thebes,

  To Polidas, to Tranio, and to Gripus,

  Companions of our war; invite them all

  To join their prayers to smooth Alcmena’s brow,

  And, with a solemn feast, to crown the day.

  Sos. [Taking Jupiter about the knees.] Let me embrace you, sir. [Jupiter pushes him away.]

  Nay, you must give me leave to express my gratitude; I have not eaten, to say eating, nor drunk, to say drinking, never since our villainous encamping so near the enemy. It is true, I escaped the bloody-flux, because I had so little in my bowels to come out; and I durst let nothing go, in conscience, because I had nothing to swallow in the room on’t.

  Jup. You, Bromia, see that all things be prepared,

  With that magnificence, as if some god

  Were guest or master here.

  Sos. Or rather, as much as if twenty gods were to be guests or masters here.

  Brom. That you may eat for to-day and tomorrow.

  Sos. Or, rather again, for to-day and yesterday, and as many months backward, as I am indebted to my own belly.

  Jup. Away, both of you. —

  [Exeunt Sosia and Bromia severally.

  Now I have packed him hence, thou art Sosia,

  (Who, though thou art not present, hear’st my voice,)

  Be ready to attend me at my call,

  And to supply his place.

  Enter MERCURY to JUPITER; ALCMENA and PHÆDRA appear above.

  See, she appears: — [Seeing Alcmena.

  This is my bribe to Phædra; when I made

  This gold, I made a greater God than Jove,

  And gave my own omnipotence away.

  Jupiter signs to the Musicians. Song and Dance:

  After which, Alcmena withdraws, frowning.

  SONG.

  I.

  Celia, that I once was blest

 
Is now the torment of my breast;

  Since, to curse me, you bereave me

  Of the pleasures I possest:

  Cruel creature, to deceive me!

  First to love, and then to leave me!

  II.

  Had you the bliss refused to grant,

  Then I had never known the want:

  But possessing once the blessing,

  Is the cause of my complaint;

  Once possessing is but tasting.

  ’Tis no bliss that is not lasting.

  III.

  Celia now is mine no more;

  But I am hers, and must adore,

  Nor to leave her will endeavour;

  Charms, that captived me before,

  No unkindness can dissever;

  Love, that’s true, is love for ever.

  Jup. Oh, stay!

  Merc. She’s gone; and seemed to frown at parting.

  Jup. Follow, and thou shalt see her soon appeased;

  For I, who made her, know her inward state;

  No woman, once well-pleased, can throughly hate.

  I gave them beauty to subdue the strong, —

  A mighty empire, but it lasts not long.

  I gave them pride, to make mankind their slave;

  But, in exchange, to men I flattery gave.

  The offending lover, when he lowest lies,

  Submits, to conquer; and but kneels, to rise.

  ACT IV.

  SCENE I.

  Jupiter following ALCMENA; MERCURY and PHÆDRA.

  Jup. Oh, stay, my dear Alcmena; hear me speak!

  Alc. No, I would fly thee to the ridge of earth,

  And leap the precipice, to scape thy sight.

  Jup. For pity —

  Alc. Leave me, thou ungrateful man.

  Jup. I cannot leave you; no, but like a ghost,

  Whom your unkindness murdered, will I haunt you.

  Alc. Once more, be gone; I’m odious to myself,

  For having loved thee once.

  Jup. Hate not, the best and fairest of your kind!

  Nor can you hate your lover, though you would:

  Your tears, that fall so gently, are but grief:

  There may be anger; but there must be love.

  The dove, that murmurs at her mate’s neglect,

  But counterfeits a coyness, to be courted.

  Alc. Courtship from thee, and after such affronts!

  Jup. Is this that everlasting love you vowed

  Last night, when I was circled in your arms?

  Remember what you swore.

  Alc. Think what thou wert, and who could swear too much?

  Think what thou art, and that unswears it all.

  Jup. Can you forsake me, for so small a fault?

  ’Twas but a jest, perhaps too far pursued;

  ’Twas but, at most, a trial of your faith,

  How you could bear unkindness;

  ’Twas but to get a reconciling kiss,

  A wanton stratagem of love.

  Alc. See how he doubles, like a hunted hare:

  A jest, and then a trial, and a bait;

  All stuff, and daubing!

  Jup. Think me jealous, then.

  Alc. O that I could! for that’s a noble crime,

  And which a lover can with ease forgive;

  ’Tis the high pulse of passion in a fever;

  A sickly draught, but shows a burning thirst:

  Thine was a surfeit, not a jealousy;

  And in that loathing of thy full-gorged love,

  Thou saw’st the nauseous object with disdain.

  Jup. Oh, think not that! for you are ever new:

  Your fruits of love are like eternal spring,

  In happy climes, where some are in the bud,

  Some green, and ripening some, while others fall.

  Alc. Ay, now you tell me this,

  When roused desires, and fresh recruits of force,

  Enable languished love to take the field:

  But never hope to be received again;

  You would again deny you were received,

  And brand my spotless fame.

  Jup r I will not dare to justify my crime,

  But only point you where to lay the blame;

  Impute it to the husband, not the lover.

  Alc. How vainly would the sophister divide,

  And make the husband and the lover two!

  Jup. Yes, ’tis the husband is the guilty wretch;

  His insolence forgot the sweets of love,

  And, deeming them his due, despised the feast.

  Not so the famished lover could forget;

  He knew he had been there, and had been blest

  With all that hope could wish, or sense can bear.

  Alc. Husband and lover, both alike I hate.

  Jup. And I confess I have deserved that hate.

  Too charming fair, I kneel for your forgiveness:

  [Kneeling.

  I beg, by those fair eyes

  Which gave me wounds, that time can never cure,

  Receive my sorrows, and restore my joys.

  Alc. Unkind, and cruel! I can speak no more.

  Jup. Oh, give it vent, Alcmena, give it vent;

  I merit your reproach, I would be cursed;

  Let your tongue curse me, while your heart forgives.

  Alc. Can I forget such usage?

  Jup. Can you hate me?

  Ah. I ‘ll do my best; for sure I ought to hate you.

  Jup. That word was only hatched upon your tongue,

  It came not from your heart. But try again,

  And if, once more, you can but say, — I hate you,

  My sword shall do you justice.

  Alc. Then — I hate you.

  Jup. Then you pronounce the sentence of my death.

  Alc. I hate you much, but yet — I love you more.

  Jup. To prove that love, then, say that you forgive me;

  For there remains but this alternative, —

  Resolve to pardon, or to punish me.

  Ah. Alas! what I resolve appears too plain;

  In saying that I cannot hate, I pardon.

  Jup. But what’s a pardon worth without a seal?

  Permit, me, in this transport of my joy —

  [Kisses her hand.

  Ah. Forbear; I am offended with myself,

  [Putting him gently away with her hand.

  That I have shown this weakness. — Let me go

  Where I may blush alone; —

  [Going, and looking back on him.

  But come not you,

  Lest I should spoil you with excess of fondness,

  And let you love again. — [Exit ALCMENA.

  Jup. Forbidding me to follow, she invites me: —

  This is the mould of which I made the sex:

  I gave them but one tongue, to say us nay;

  And two kind eyes to grant. — Be sure that none

  Approach, to interrupt our privacy. [To MERC.

  [Exit JUPITER after ALCMENA. MERCURY and PHÆDRA remain.

  Merc. Your lady has made the challenge of reconciliation to my lord: here’s a fair example for us two, Phædra.

  Phced. No example at all, Sosia; for my lady had the diamonds aforehand, and I have none of the gold goblet.

  Merc. The goblet shall be forthcoming, if thou wilt give me weight for weight.

  Phæd. Yes, and measure for measure too,

  Sosia; that is, for a thimbleful of gold, a thimbleful of love.

  Merc. What think you now, Phædra? Here’s a weighty argument of love for you.

  [Pulling out the Goblet in a case from under his cloak.

  Phæd. Now Jupiter, of his mercy, let me kiss thee, O thou dear metal! [ Taking it in both hands.

  Merc. And Venus, of her mercy, let me kiss thee, dear, dear Phædra!

  Phæd. Not so fast, Sosia; there’s a damned proverb in your way,— “Many things happen betwixt the cup and the lips,” you know.

  Merc. Why, thou
wilt not cheat me of my goblet?

  Phæd. Yes, as sure as you would cheat me of my maidenhead: I am yet but just even with you, for the last trick you played me. And, besides, this is but a bare retaining fee; you must give me another before the cause is opened.

  Merc. Shall I not come to your bedside tonight?

  Phæd. No, nor to-morrow night neither; but this shall be my sweetheart in your place: ’tis a better bedfellow, and will keep me warmer in cold weather. — [Exit PHÆDRA.

  MERCURY alone.

  Merc. Now, what’s the god of wit in a woman’s hand? This very goblet I stole from Gripus; and he got it out of bribes, too. But this is the common fate of ill-gotten goods, that, as they came in by covetousness, they go out by whoring. —

  Enter AMPHITRYON.

  Oh, here s Amphitryon again; but I’ll manage him above in the balcony. [Exit MERCURY.

  Ampli. Not one of those I looked for to be found,

  As some enchantment hid them from my sight!

  Perhaps, as Sosia says, ’tis witchcraft all.

  Seals may be opened, diamonds may be stolen;

  But how I came, in person, yesterday,

  And gave that present to Alcmena’s hands,

  That which I never gave, nor ever came, —

  Oh, there’s the rock on which my reason splits!

  Would that were all! I fear my honour, too.

  I ‘ll try her once again; — she may be mad; —

  A wretched remedy; but all I have,

  To keep me from despair.

  Merc. [From the Balcony, aside.] This is no very charitable action of a god, to use him ill, who has never offended me; but my planet disposes me to malice; and when we great persons do but a little mischief, the world has a good bargain of us.

  Amph. How now, what means the locking up of my doors at this time of day? — [Knocks.

  Merc. Softly, friend, softly; you knock as loud, and as saucily, as a lord’s footman, that was sent before him to warn the family of his honour’s visit. Sure you think the doors have no feeling! What the devil are you, that rap with such authority?

  Amph. Look out, and see; ’tis I.

  Merc. You! what you?

  Amph. No more, I say, but open.

  Merc. I ‘ll know to whom first.

  Amph. I am one that can command the doors open.

  Merc. Then you had best command them, and try whether they will obey you.

  Amph. Dost thou not know me?

  Merc. Pr’ythee, how should I know thee?

  Dost thou take me for a conjurer?

  Amph. What’s this? midsummer-moon! Is all the world gone a-madding? — Why, Sosia!

  Merc. That’s my name, indeed; didst thou think I had forgot it?