A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Ix Part 89

SCAENA UNDECIMA.

VISUS, SOMNUS.

VIS. Sage Telemus, I now too late admire Thy deep foresight and skill in prophecy, Who whilom told'st me, that in time to come Ulysses should deprive me of my sight.

And now the slave, that march'd in Outis' name, Is prov'd Ulysses; and by this device Hath 'scap'd my hands, and fled away by sea, Leaving me desolate in eternal night.

Ah, wretched Polypheme! where's all thy hope, And longing for thy beauteous Galatea?

She scorn'd thee once, but now she will detest And loathe to look upon thy dark'ned face; Ah me, most miserable Polyphemus!

But as for Ulysses, heaven and earth Send vengeance ever on thy d.a.m.ned head, In just revenge of my great injury!

[SOMNUS _binds him_.

Who is he that dares to touch me? Cyclops, come, Come, all ye Cyclops, help to rescue me.

[SOMNUS _charms him; he sleeps_.

SOM. There rest thyself, and let thy quiet sleep Restore thy weak imaginations.

SCAENA DUODECIMA.

LINGUA, SOMNUS, VISUS.

LIN. Ha, ha, ha! O, how my spleen is tickled with this sport The madding Senses make about the woods!

It cheers my soul, and makes my body fat, To laugh at their mischances: ha, ha, ha, ha!

Heigho, the st.i.tch hath caught me: O, my heart!

Would I had one to hold my sides awhile, That I might laugh afresh: O, how they run, And chafe, and swear, and threaten one another!

[SOMNUS _binds her_.

Ay me, out, alas! ay me, help, help, who's this that binds me?

Help, Mendacio! Mendacio, help! Here's one will ravish me.

SOM. Lingua, content yourself, you must be bound.

LIN. What a spite's this? Are my nails pared so near? Can I not scratch his eyes out? What have I done? What, do you mean to kill me? Murder, murder, murder!

[_She falls asleep_.

SCAENA DECIMA TERTIA.

GUSTUS, _with a voiding knife[308] in his hand_.

SOMNUS, LINGUA, VISUS.

GUS. Who cries out murder? What, a woman slain!

My Lady Lingua dead? O heavens unjust!

Can you behold this fact, this b.l.o.o.d.y fact, And shower not fire upon the murderer?

Ah, peerless Lingua! mistress of heavenly words, Sweet tongue of eloquence, the life of fame, Heart's dear enchantress! What disaster, fates, Hath reft this jewel from our commonwealth?

Gustus, the ruby that adorns the ring, Lo, here defect, how shalt thou lead thy days, Wanting the sweet companion of thy life, But in dark sorrow and dull melancholy?

But stay, who's this? inhuman wretch!

Bloodthirsty miscreant! is this thy handiwork?

To kill a woman, a harmless lady?

Villain, prepare thyself; Draw, or I'll sheathe my falchion in thy sides.

There, take the guerdon[309] fit for murderers.

[GUSTUS _offers to run at_ SOMNUS, _but being suddenly charmed, falls asleep_.

SOM. Here's such a stir, I never knew the Senses in such disorder.

LIN. Ha, ha, ha! Mendacio, Mendacio! See how Visus hath broke his forehead against the oak yonder, ha, ha, ha!

SOM. How now? is not Lingua bound sufficiently? I have more trouble to make one woman sleep than all the world besides; they are so full of tattle.

SCAENA DECIMA QUARTA.

SOMNUS, c.r.a.pULA, LINGUA, VISUS, GUSTUS, AUDITUS _pulling_ OLFACTUS _by the nose, and_ OLFACTUS _wringing_ AUDITUS _by the ears_.

AUD. O, mine ears, mine ears, mine ears!

OLF. O, my nose, my nose, my nose!

CRA. Leave, leave, at length, these base contentions: Olfactus, let him go.

OLF. Let him first loose my nose.

CRA. Good Auditus, give over.

AUD. I'll have his life that sought to kill me.

SOM. Come, come, I'll end this quarrel; bind them[310], c.r.a.pula.

[_They bind them both_.

SCAENA DECIMA QUINTA.

TACTUS, _with the robe in his hand_, SOMNUS, c.r.a.pULA, LINGUA, GUSTUS, OLFACTUS VISUS, AUDITUS.

TAC. Thanks, Dejanira, for thy kind remembrance, 'Tis a fair shirt: I'll wear it for thy sake.

CRA. Somnus, here's Tactus, worse than all his fellows: Stay but awhile, and you shall see him rage!