SAPHO AND PHAO: A COMEDY. BY THE SAME AUTHOR, 1601. PHAO, a poor Ferryman, praises his condition.-He ferries over VENUS; who inflames SAPHO and him with a mutual passion. Phao. Thou art a ferryman, Phao, yet a freeman; possessing for riches content, and for honours quiet. Thy thoughts are no higher than thy fortunes, nor thy desires greater than thy calling. Who climbeth, standeth on glass, and falleth on thorn. Thy heart's thirst is satisfied with thy hand's thrift, and thy gentle labours in the day turn to sweet slumbers in the night. As much doth it delight thee to rule thy oar in a calm stream, as it doth Sapho to sway the sceptre in her brave court. Envy never casteth her eye low, ambition pointeth always upward, and revenge barketh only at stars. Thou farest delicately, if thou have a fare to buy any thing. Thine angle is ready, when thy oar is idle; and as sweet is the fish which thou gettest in the river, as the fowl which others buy in the market. Thou needest not fear poison in thy glass, nor treason in thy guard. The wind is thy greatest enemy, whose might is withstood by policy. O sweet life! seldom found under a golden covert, often under a thatcht cottage. But here cometh one; I will withdraw myself aside; it may be a passenger. VENUS, PHAO: She, as a mortal. Ven. Pretty youth, do you keep the ferry, that conducteth to Syracusa ? Phao. The ferry, fair lady, that conducteth to Syra cusa. Ven. I fear, if the water should begin to swell, thou wilt want cunning to guide. Phao. These waters are commonly as the passengers are; and therefore, carrying one so fair in show, there is no cause to fear a rough sea. Ven. To pass the time in thy boat, canst thou devise any pastime? Phao. If the wind be with me, I can angle, or tell tales if against me, it will be pleasure for you to see me take pains. Ven. I like not fishing; yet was I born of the sea. Phao. But he may bless fishing, that caught such an one in the sea. net. Ven. It was not with an angle, my boy, but with a Phao. So, was it said, that Vulcan caught Mars with Venus. Ven. Did'st thou hear so? it was some tale. Phao. Yea, Madam; and that in the boat did I mean to make my tale. Ven. It is not for a ferryman to talk of the Gods' Loves but to tell how thy father could dig, and thy mother spin. But come, let us away. Phao. I am ready to wait SAPHO, sleepless for love of PHAO, who loves her as much, consults with him about some medicinal herb: She, a great Lady; He, the poor Ferryman, but now promoted to be her Gardener. Sapho. What herbs have you brought, Phao? Phao. Such as will make you sleep, Madam; though they cannot make me slumber. Sapho. Why, how can you cure me, when you cannot remedy yourself? Phao. Yes, madam; the causes are contrary. For it is only a dryness in your brains, that keepeth you from rest. But Sapho. But what? Phao. Nothing but mine is not so Sapho. Nay then, I despair of help, if our disease be not all one. Phao. I would our diseases were all one! Sapho. It goes hard with the patient, when the physician is desperate. Phao. Yet Medea made the ever-waking dragon to snort, when she (poor soul) could not wink, Sapho. Medea was in love, and nothing could cause her rest but Jason. Phao. Indeed I know no herb to make lovers sleep but Heart's Ease: which, because it groweth so high I cannot reach, for Sapho. For whom? Phao. For such as love Sapho. It stoopeth very low, and I can never stoop to it, that Phao. That what? Sapho. That I may gather it. But why do you sigh so, Phao ! Phao. It is mine use, Madam. Sapho. It will do you harm, and me too: for I never hear one sigh, but I must sigh also. Phao. It were best then that your Ladyship give me leave to be gone : for I can but sigh— Sapho. Nay, stay; for now I begin to sigh, I shall not leave, though you be gone. But what do you think best for your sighing, to take it away. Phao. Yew, Madam. Sapho. Me! Phao. No, Madam; Yew of the tree. Sapho. Then will I love Yew the better. And indeed I think it would make me sleep too; therefore, all other simples set aside, I will simply use only Yew. Phao. Do, Madam; for I think nothing in the world so good as Yew. Sapho. Farewell, for this time. SAPHO questions her low-placed Affection. Sapho. Into the nest of an Alcyon no bird can enter but the Alcyon and into the heart of so great a Lady can any creep but a great Lord? CUPID. SAPHO cured of her love by the pity of VENUS. Cupid. But what will you do for Phao? Sapho. I will wish him fortunate. This will I do for Phao, because I once loved Phao: for never shall it be said, that Sapho loved to hate or that out of love she could not be as courteous, as she was in love passionate. PHAO's final resolution. Phao. O Sapho, thou hast Cupid in thy arms, I in my heart; thou kissest him for sport, I must curse him for spite; yet will I not curse him, Sapho, whom thou kissest. This shall be my resolution, wherever I wander, to be as I were ever kneeling before Sapho : my loyalty unspotted, though unrewarded. With as little malice will I go to my grave, as I did lie withal in my cradle. My life shall be spent in sighing and wishing; the one for my bad fortune, the other for Sapho's good. THE TRUE TROJANS, OR FUIMUS TROES: AN HISTORICAL PLAY. AUTHOR UNKNOWN, 1633. Invocation of the Druids to the Gods of Britain, on the Draw near, ye Heav'nly Powers, And ye, who in the deep On mossy pillows sleep; Belief doth beg relief. By the vervain and lunary, By fern seed planetary, By the dreadful misletoe Which doth on holy oak grow, Draw near, draw near, draw near. Help us beset with danger, And turn away your anger; Help us begirt with trouble, We'll praise then your great power By the vervain, &c. Another, to the Moon. Thou Queen of Heav'n, Commandress of the deep, |