# The Golden Age.

I taught it speech, and understanding both
Euen in the Cradle: Oh then suffer me,
You that are in the worlds decrepit Age,
When it is neere his vniuerfall graue,
To sing an old song; and in this Iron Age
Shew you the state of the first golden world,
I was the Muses Patron, learnings spring,
And you shall once more heare blinde Homer sing.

Enter two Lords.

1. Lord. The old Vranus, sonne of the Aire & Day
Is dead, and left behinde him two braue Sonnes,
Tytan and Saturne.

2. Tytan is the eldest,
And should succeed by the true right of birth.

3. Lord. But Saturn hath the hearts of all the people,
The Kingdomes high applaufe, his mothers loue,
The least of these are steppes vnto a crowne.

4. Lor. But how wil Tytan beare him in these troubles,
Being by nature proud and insolent,
To see the yonger feated in his throne,
And he to whom the true right appertaines,
By birth, and law of Nations quite caft off?

1. Lord. That either power or steele must arbitrate:
Causes best friended haue the best event.
Here Saturne comes.

Enter Saturne and Vesta with other attendants.

Saturn. Behold what nature skanted me in yeares,
And time, below my brother; your applaufe,
And general loue, fully supplies me with:
And make me to his crowne inheritable.
I choofe it as my right by gift of heauen,
The peoples suffrage, the dead Kings bequeeth,
And your election, our faire mother Queene,
Against all these what can twelue moones of time,

Preuailè

The Golden Age.

Preuaile with *Tytan* to dif-herite vs.

*Vesta*. The Cretan people, with shrill acclamations
Pronounce thee foueraigne ore their lands and liues,
Let *Tytan* storme, and threaten strange reuenge,
We are resolu'd thy honour to maintaine.

1. Lord. Tytan, thy ruine shall attempt in vaine
Our hearts ad-here with Vestaes our late Queene,
According to our foueraignes late bequeft,
To kneele to Saturne.

*Saturne*. We accept your loues,
And we will ftriumph by merite to exceed you.
In iuſt requitall of these fauours done.

*Vesta*. Arme Lords, I heare the voyce
Of Tytan storming at this strange election.

*A noife of ta-
mult within.*

*Enter Tytan, Lycaon and others.*

*Tytan*. Defcend proud vpſtart, trickt vp in ſtoln weeds
Deckt in vſurped ſtate, and borrowed honours,
Reſigne them to their owner, that's to me.

*Sat.* Tytan keep off, I charge thee neere me not,
Left I thy bold preſumption feale with bloud.

*Tytan*. A Crown's worth tugging for, & I wil ha't
Though in purſute I dare my ominous Fate.

*Licaon*. Downe with the vſurper,
*Vesta*. Saturne here ſhall ſtand,
Immoueable; vpheld by Vestaes hand.

*Tytan*. Am I not eldeſt?

*Vesta*. Ey but yong ſt in braine.
*Saturne* the crowne hath ceas'd, and he ſhall reigne.

*Tytan*. Am I a baſtard, that my heritage
Is wreſted from me by a yonger birth?

*Hath Vesta* plaid th' adulteresse with him ome ſtranger?

*If I be eldeſt from Vranus* loynes,
*Your maiden Iſſue, why am I debar'd*

*The law of Nations? am I Vestaes ſonne?*

*Why doth not Vesta then appeare a mother?*

B 2

Was

The golden Age.

Was yonger Saturne bedded in your wombe,
Neerer your heart then I, that hee's affected
And I delpis'd? If none of these, then grant me,
What Iuſtice wils, my intereſt in the Crowne:
Or if you make me out-cast, if my Mother
Forget the loue she owes, I ſhall abandon
The duty of a ſonne. If Saturne prooue
Vnnaturall, I'le be no more a brother,
But maugre all that haue my right withſtood,
Reuenge my wrongs, & make my way through bloud.

Sat. Tytan we both acknowledge thee a brother,
And Vestaes ſonne, which wee'le expreſſe in loue.
But ſince for many vertues growing in me
That haue no life in you, the Queene, the Peeres,
And all the people, with lowd ſuffrages,
Haue ſhrild their Auees high aboue the clouds,
And ſtil'd me King, we ſhould forget their loues
Not to maintaine their ſtrange election.

Aduife you therefore, ſince this bold aduenture
Is much aboue your ſtrength, to arme your ſelfe,
In ſearch of future honours with our loue,
For what can Tytan do againſt a people ?

Ueſta. Saturne aduifeth well; lift to his confell.
Tytan. If my owne land proue thus vnnaturall,
I'le purchase forrraine aid.

1. Lord. Rather compound.

Sat. Let Tytan make demand of any thing
Sauing our Crowne, he ſhall enioy it freely.

Ueſta. Tytan, your brother offers royally,
Accept his loue.

Tytan. To looke a Crowne includes
The loſſe of all things. What ſhould I demand?

Lycaon. This grant him Saturne, ſince thy inſinuation
Hath wrought him quite out of the Cretans hearts,
That Tytans warlike iſſue may ſucceed thee.

Tytan. Lycaon well aduis'd, he during life,

Shall

The golden Age.

Shall reign in peace, no interruption,
Shall pass from Tytan to disturb his reign,
So to our Gyant race thou wilt affure
The crowne as due by right inheritance.

Saturne. To cut off all hostile effusion
Of human bloud, which by our difference
Must needs be spilt vpon the barren earth,
Wee'le fweare to this accord.

Tytan. Condition thus,
That to depriue all future enmity
In our succeeding Issue, thy male children
Thou in their Cradle ftrangle.

Saturne. Kill my fonnes?

Tytan. Or fweare to this, or all our warlike race,
Disperſt in ſeverall Kingdomes Il'e affemble,
To conquer thee, and from thy ambitious head,
Teare that vfurped Crowne.

Saturne. Tytan, thy friendship
Wee' buy with our own bloud, all our male children,
(If we hereafter ſhall haue any borne)
Shall perſh in their births, to this we fweare,
As we are King and Saturne.

Tytan. I the like,
As I am Tytan, and Vranus fonne:
This league confirm'd, all my Allyes I'le gather
Search forreigne clymes, in which Il'e plant my kin,
Scorning a ſeate here where I am diſpis'd,
To liue a ſubieſt to a younger birth.

Nor bow to that which is my owne by due.
Saturne farewell, Il'e leaue thee to thy ſtate,
Whil'ſt I in forreigne Kingdomes ſearch my Fate.
Thinke on thy oath.

Saturne. First ſtay with vs and feaſt,
Tytan this day ſhall be King Saturns gueſt.

Enter the Clowne and a Nurfe.

Clown. There is no dallying, you muſt come with all ſpeede,

For

# The Golden Age.

For Madam Sibilla is grown a great woman.

Nurf. That is without question, for she is now a Queene.

Clown. Nay, she is greater than many Queens are: for though you may think she is with ancient folkies: yet I can assure you she is with child, you may imagine, being now but morning shee is new riven, yet it is thought that ere no one she will bee brought a bed. I never heard she was committed to prison: yet it is look't euery houre when she shall be delivered, and therefore Nurse I was sent to you in all haste.

Nurf. Is she so neere her time?

Clown: Yes: and yet is thought shee will not withstanding hold out, because she is groning.

Nurf. Your reason?

Clowne. Because you know the prouerbe: *A grunting horse, and a groning wife neuer deceive their Maister*: say, will you make haste Nurse?

Nurf. What's the best news abroad?

Clown. The best newes abrode is, that the Queene is likely to keepe at home: and is it not strange, that halfe an hours being abroad should make a woman have a moneths minde to keepe in. But the worst newes is, that if the King have a young Prince, hee is tide to kill it by oath: but, if his maiety went drunke to bed, and got a gyrle, she hath leaue to liue till she dye, and dye when she can liue no longer.

Nurf. That covenant was the most vnnatural!
That euer father made: one louely boy
Hath felt the rigor of that strict decree,
And if this second likewife be a sonne,
There is no way but death.

Clown. I can tell you more newes: the king hath sent to the Oracle to know whether my Lady be with child of a boy or a gyrle, and what their fortunes shall be: the Lord that went, is look't for euery day to returne with his answere: it is so Gof-fipt in the Queenes chamber, I can tell you. O Nurse wee have the brauest-king, if thou knewest all.

Nurf. Why I pray thee?

Clowne

# The Golden Age.

Clowne. Let his vertues speake for himselfe; he hath taught his people to sow, to plow, to reape corne, and to skorne Ake-horns with their heeles, to bake and to brue: we that were wont to drinke nothing but water, haue the brauest liquor at Court as paffeth. Besides, he hath deuifed a strange engine, called a Bow and Arrow, that a man may hold in hand, and kill a wilde beaft a great way off, and neuer come in danger of his clutches. I'le tell you a strange thing Nurfe, laft time the King went a hunting, he kild a beare, brought him home to be bak't and eaten. A Gentlewoman of the Court, that fed hungerly vpon this pye, had such a rumbling and roaring in her guts, that her In-trails were all in a mutiny, and could not be appeased. No phi-ficke, would helpe her, what did the King but caufl'd an ex-cellent Maftiffe to be knock't in the head, and dreft, gaue it to the gentlewoman, of which when she had well eaten, the flesh of the Maftiffe worried the beare in her belly, and euer since her guts haue left wambling. But come, come, I was sent in haft, the Queene must needs speake with you.

Exeunt.

Enter Saturne with wedges of gold and filuer, models of ships, and buildings, bow and arrowes, &c. His Lords with him.

Saturne. You shall no more be lodg'd beneath the trees,
Nor chamber vnderneath the spreading Okes:
Behold, I haue deuis'd you formes for tooles,
To square out timber, and performe the Art
Of Architecture, yet vnknowne till now.
I'le draw you formes of Cities, Townes and Towers,
For vse and strength, behold the models here.

I, Lord. Saturne's inuentions are diuine, not humane,
A God-like spirit hath inpir'd his reigne.

Saturne, See here a second Arte of Husbandry,
To till the earth, to plow, to sow, to plant,
Deuis'd by Saturne: here is gold refin'd
From Groffer metals, filuer, braff'e, and tinne,
With other minerals, extraict from earth,

The golden Age!

I likewise haue found out to make your brooks,
Rivers and seas by practife Nauigable.
Behold a forme to make your Craers and Barkes
To paſſe huge ſtreames in safety, dangerleſſe. ]
2. Lord Saturne is a God.

Saturn. The laſt, not leaſt, this vſe of Archery,
The ſtringed, bow, and nimble-fethered-ſhaft :
By this you may command the flying fowle,
And reach her from on high: this ſerues for warre,
To ſtrike and wound thy foe-man from a farre.

What meanes this acclamation?

A lowd ſhout
within.

1. Lord. Tis thy people,
Deuineſt Saturne furnisht with theſe vſes,
(More then the Gods haue lent them) by thy meanes.
Proclaime to thee a laſting deity.

And would haue Saturne honoured as a God.

Saturn. Wee'l ſtudy future profits for their vſe,
And in our freeſh inuentions proue diuine.
But Gods are never touch't with my ſupſires,
Paſſions and throbs: their God-like Iſſue thrive,
Whilſt I vn-man-like muſt deſttoy my babes.
Oh my ſtrict oath to Tytan, which confounds
All my precedent honours: one ſweete babe,
My yongeſt Ops hath felt the bloudy knife,
And perisht in his ſwathing: And my Queene
Swels with another Infant in her wombe,
Ready to taſte like rigor. Is that Lord,
Return'd from Delphos yet?

2. Lord. He is.

Saturn. Admit him: now what doth the Oracle
Speake by the Delphian Prieſt.

3. Lord. Thus mighty Saturne.
After our Ceremonious Rites perform'd,
And Sacrifice ended with reuerence,
A murmuring thunder hurried through the Temple.
When fell a pleafant ſhower, whose filuer drops. ]

Fild

The golden Age.

Fil'd all the Altar with a roseate dew.
In this amazement, thus the Delphian God,
Spake from the Incensed Altar: Lord of Creete,
Thus say to Saturne: Sibill his faire wife,
Is great with a yong Prince of Noble hopes,
That shall his fathers vertues much excell,
Ceaze on his Crowne, and driue him downe to Hell,
Sat. The Gods (if there be any boue our selfe)
Enuy our greatneſſe, and of one that seekes
To beare himſelfe boue man, makes me more wretched
Then the moſt ſlauchſh bruit. What ſhall my Sibill
Bring me a ſonne, that ſhall depoſe me then?
He ſhall not; I will croſſe the Deities,
I'le toombe th'usurper in his Infant bloud,
I'le keepe my oath; Prince Tytan ſhall ſucceed,
Maugre the enuious Gods, the brat ſhall bleed.

1. Lor. Way for the dowager Queene,
Sat. How fares our mother?

Enter Vesta fad.

How i'ft with faire Sibilla, our deere Queene?

Vesta. Your Queenes deliuered.
Sat. Off some female birth,

You Deities I begge: make me oh Heauens,
No more inhumane in the tragicke ſlaughter
Of princely Infants, fill my decreed number
With Virgins, though in them I looke my name
And kingdome, either make her barren euer
Or else all generatiue power and appetite

Depriue me: left my purple finne be fil'd
Many degrees boue murder. What's her birth?

Vesta. Shee's the sad mother of a ſecond ſonne.
Saturn. Be euer dumbe, let euer laſting ſilence

Tong-tye the world, all humane voyce henceforth,
Turne to confus'd, and vndiltinguifht found,
Of barking Hounds, hoarſe beares, & howling wolues,
To ſtop all rumour that may ſil the world
With Saturnes tyranies againſt his ſonnes.

C

Vesta.

Fild

The golden Age.

Vest. Ah, did but Saturne see yon smiling babe,
Hee'd giue it life, and breake ten thoufand oathes
Rather then suffer the sweet infant dye,
His very looke would begge a quicke reprieue
Euen of the tyrant Tytan saw the vnkle
With what a gracefull looke the Infant smiles,
Hee'd giue it life, although he purchas'd it
with loffe of a great Kingdome.

Saturn. Then spare the lad: I did offend too much
To kill the first, tell Sibill he shall liue,
I'le be no more so monstrous in my rigor,
Nor with the bloud of Princes buy my Crowne.
No more their Cradles shall be made their Tombes,
Nor their soft swathes become their winding sheetes :
How can my subiects thinke Il'e spare their liues,
That to my owne can be so tyranous?
Tell Sibill he shall liue.

Vest. Vestula will be that ioyfull meffenger.

Saturn. Stay, let me first reward the Oracle,
It told me Sibill should produce a fonne,
That should his Fathers vertues much excell,
Ceafe on my Crowne, and drive me downe to Hell.
Muft I then giue an Infant-traitor life,
To fting me to the heart? the brat shall bleed.

Vesta. Sweet fonne. 1. Lord. Deere soueraigne.

Saturn. He that next replyes,
Mother or friend, by Saturnes fury dyes.
Away, fetch me his heart, brimme me a bowle
With his warme bloud. Tytan, my vow I'le keep,
Life newly wakend, shall as newly fleep.

Vest. Worse then a bruit, for bruits preferue their own
Worse then the worft of things is Saturne growne.

Saturn. Command the childe to death.

Vesta. Tyrant, I will.

Tygers would faue whom Saturn means to kill,
Sat. It is my fonne whom I command to death,

A

# The Golden Age.

A Prince that may succed me in my Throne,
And to pofterity reuiue my name.

Call Veſta backe, and bid her ſaue the Babe.

1. Lord. I'lle do't my Lord.

Sat. Yet ſtay: the lad to kill

I ſaue my oath, and keep my kingdome ſtill.

Poſt after her, and charge them on their liues,

Send me the babes bloud in a cup of gold,
A preſent which I'le offer to the Gods.

De'lay not, bee't our mother, nay our wife,

For ſeiths her owne to ſaue the Infants life.

1. Lord. I ſhall informe them to.

Sat, Is this a deity,

To be more wretched then the worſt on earth,

To be depri'd, that comfort of my ſſue,

Which euen the bafeſt of my land enioy:

I'le henceforth for my rigor hate my ſelfe,

Pleaſures deſpife, and ioyes abandon quite.

The pureſt bloud that runnes within my veines,

I'le dull with thicke, and troubled melancholy,

I'le warre with comfort, be at oddes with ſolace,

And league with nothing but diſtemprature.

Henceforth my vnkem'd lockes ſhall knot in curles,

Raſor nor any edge ſhall kiffe my cheeke,

Vntill my chin appeare a wilderneſſe,

And make we wild in knowledge to the world.

Perpetuall care ſhall cabin in my heart,

My tyranny I'le puniſh in my ſelfe,

And ſaue the Gods that labour—

Satures diſturbance to the world ſhall be,

That planet that inſuſeth melancholy.

Enter Sibilla lying in child-bed, with her child lying by her, and her Nurse, &c.

Sibilla. Is not our mother Veſta yet return'd,
That made her ſelfe th'unwilling meſlenger,

To bring the king newes of his new-borne ſonne?

C 2

Nurse

The Golden Age.

Nurf. Madam, not yet.

Sibil. Mother, of all that euer mothers were
Most wretched: kiffe thy sweet babe ere he dyeth
That hath life onely lent to suffer death.
Sweet Lad, I would thy father saw thee smile,
Thy beauty and thy pretty Infancy,
Would moliffe his heart wer't hew'd from flint,
Or caru'd with Iron tooles from the corficke rocke,
Thou laugheft to thinke thou muft be kild in ieft.
Oh if thou needs muft dye, I'le bethy murdreffe,
And kill thee with my kiffes (pretty knaue)
And canft thou laugh to see thy mother weepe?
Or art thou in thy cheerefull Smiles so free
In fcorne of thy rude fathers tyranny?

Nurf. Madam, the King hath flaine his first borne Son,
Whom had hee feene aline, hee'd not haue giuen
For ten such Kingdomes as he now enioyes,
The death of such a faire and hopefull child,
Is full as much as Tytan can demand.

Sib. He shall spare this sweet babe, I'le ranfome thee
With my owne life, the knife that pierceth thee,
Will wound thy mothers fide, and I shall feele
The leaft sharpe ftroke from his offenfiue steele.

Nurf. The mother Queen's return'd.
How lookes she Nurfe?

Enter Vesta.

Let her not speake, but yet a little longer
My hopes hold in sufpence: oh me, most wretched,
I reade my Lords harsh anſwere in her eye,
Her very lookes tell me the boy muſt dye.

Say, muſt he? muſt he? kill me with that word,
Which will wound deeper then King Saturnes ſword.

Vesta. The boy muſt dye.

Sib. Oh!

Nurf. Looke to the Queene, she faints.

Vest. Oh let's not looke the mother with her infant,
The loſſe of one's too much.

Sibill.

The golden Age.

Sibill. Oh wher's my childe ?

Ile hide thee in my bed, my bosome, breft,
The murderer shall not finde my little fonne,
Thou shalt not dye, be not afraid my boy.
Go tell the King hees mine as well as his,
And I'le not kill my part : one he hath flaine,
In which I had like interest : this I'le faue,
And euery second fonne keepe from the graue.

Enter the first Lord.

Vesta. Fobeare fir, for this place is priuiledg'd,
And, onely for free women.

I. Lord. Yet is the Kings command boue your decree,
And I muft play th'intruder gainst my will.
The King vpon your liues hath charged you,
To see that infant Lad immediatly
Receiue his death, he stayes for his warme bloud
To offer to the Gods. To thinke him flaine,
Sad partner of your sorrowes I remaine.

Nur. Madam you heare the king doth threat our liues
Let's kill him then.

Sib. Is he inexorable?

Why should not I proue as feuere a mother.
As he a cruell father : since the King.
Hath doom'd him, I the Queene will doot my selfe,
Giue me the fatall Engine of his wrath,
I'le play the horrid murdresse for this once.
I'le kiffe thee ere I kill thee : for my life,
The Lad so smiles, I cannot hold the knife.

Vesta. Then giue him me, I am his Grand-mother,
And I will kill him gently : this fad office
Belongs to me, as to the next of kin.

Sib. For heauens fake when you kil him, hurt him not.

Vesta. Come little knaue, prepare your naked throat,
I haue not heart to giue thee many wounds,
My kindnesse is to take thy life at once. (Now.)
Alacke my pretty Grand-child, smile'ft thou still?

C 3

The golden Age.

I haue luft to kiffe, but haue no heart to kill.

Nurf. You may be carelesse of the kings command,
But it concernes me, and I loue my life
More then I do a fucklings, giue him me,
I'le make him sure, a sharpe weapon lend,
I'le quickly bring the yongfter to his end.
Alacke my pretty knaue, were more then fin,
With a sharpe knife to touch thy tender skin.
Oh Madame, hee's so full of Angell grace
I cannot strike, he smiles so in my face.

Sib. I'le wink & strike, come once more reach him hither:
For dye he muft, so Sat urne hath decreed,
'Las for a world I would not see him bleed.

Vefta. Ne shall he do, but s weare me secratif,
The babe shall liue, and we be dangerleffe,
Sib, O bleffe me with such happineſſe.

Veſta. Attend me.

The king of Epires daughters, two bright maids,
Owe me for many fauours the like loue,
These I dare truſt, to them I'le ſend this babe
To be brought vp, but not as Saturns ſonne.
Do but prouide ſome truſty meſſenger,
My honour for his ſafety.

Sib. But by what meanes shall we delude the king,
Vest. Ayong Kids heart, swimming in reeking bloud
Wee'l ſend the King, and with ſuch forged grieſe,
And counterfet ſorrow shadow it,
That this impoſure neuer ſhall be found.

Sib. Oh twice my mother you beſtow vpon me,
A double life thus to preferue my boy.

Nurf. Giue me the child, I'le finde a meſſenger,
Shall beare him ſafe to Mellifeus Court.

Veta. The bloud and heart I'le prefently prouide,
T'appeaſe the rage of Saturne.

Sib. First lets ſweare,
To keepe this ſecret from King Saturnes eare.

Vesta

# The Golden Age.

And yet himself thinks sonne-leffe: one faire daughter
Hight June is his sole delight on earth.
Thinke kinde spectators ſeuenteene sommers paſt,
Till these be growne to yeares, and Iupiter
Found in a caue by the great Epyre King,
(where by his daughters he before was hid.)
Of him and of his fortunes we proceede,
My iournie's long, and I my eye-light want.
Courteous spectators, left blind Homer ſtray,
Lend me your hands to guide me on your way.

Enter Lycaon with his Lords, Iupiter with other Lords of Epyre.

Lycaon. After long warre, and tedious differences,
Betwixt King Melliseus and our selfe,
What craue the Epyre Lords?

Iupiter. This King Lycaon,
Since truce and hoſtage hath tane vp these broiles,
And ended them in peacefull amity,
Since all the damadge by the Epyrians done,
Is on our part abundantly made good:
We come Lycaon to demand the like
Of thee and of thy Kingdome, and for proofe,
That all our malice is extinct and dead,
We bring thy hoſtage backe, demanding ours.

Lycaon. Receiue him Lords, a Banquet inſtantly,
You ſhall this day braue Epyre feaſt with vs,
And to your boord your hoſtage ſhall be brought,
There to receiue him freely, meane time fit,
And taſte the royall welcomes of our Court.

Iup. Lycaon's iuſt in keeping theſe conditions
So ſtrictly with a reconciled foe.

Lyc. But faire prince, tell me whence you are deriu'd,
I neuer heard King Melliseus had
A Prince of your perſections?

Iupiter. This demand

Startles

The Golden Age.

Startles my bloud, being borne I know not where,
Yet that I am of gentry at the leaf,
My Spirit prompts me, and my noble thoughts
Giue me approued warrant, being an infant
Two beauteous Ladyes found me in a caue,
Where from their voluntary charity,
Bees fed me with their hony, for that caufe
The two bright Ladies cal'd me Iupiter,
And to their Father Mellifeus brought me,
My Foster-father, who hath train'd my youth,
In feats of Armes, and military prowesse,
And as an instance of his deereft loue,
Hath honor'd me with this late Embaffly.

A Banquet brought in, with the limbes of a Man
in the seruice.

Lyca. We are satisfi'd: Princes fit round and feaſt,
You are this day Lycaons welcom'ſt gueſt.

Iup. This meat diſtaſts me, doth Lycaon feaſt vs
Like Canibales? feed vs with humane ſlesh?
Whence is this portent?

Lycan. Feede Epyrians, eate,
Lycaon feaſts you with no common meate.

Iup. But wher's the Epyre Lord we left as hoſtage?
Lyca. Behold him here, hee's at the table with you,
This is the Epyres head, and theſe his limbes,

Thinkes Mellifeus that Lycaon can
(Discended of the valiant Tytanoys)

Bury his hatred, and intoombe his ſpleene
Without reuenge? bloud in theſe warres was ſhed,
And for that bloud your hoſtage loft his head.

Iup. Beare wrong that lift, & thofe can brooke it beſt,
I was not borne to ſuffrance: thoughts mount hye,
A King hath wrong'd me, and a King ſhall dye.

Lycaon. Treason, treason.

Iup. Downe with the tyrant, and that hatefull crue,
And in their murdrous breaſts your blades imbrue.

D

Lycaon

The Golden Age.

Lycaon. Our guard.

A confused fray, an alarme.

Iupiter and the Epiриeks beat off Lycaon and his followers.

Iup. Lycaon's fled, make good the pallace gates,
And to th'amazed Citie beare these limbs,
So basely by the tyrant maſſacred.

Happily his ſubieſts by our words prepar'd
May ſhake their bondage off, and make this warre,
The happy meanes to rid a tyrant thence.

Beare in your left hands these diſ-membred limbes,
And in your right your ſwords, with which make way,
Courage braue Epyres, and a glorious day, Exeunt.

Alarm, Lycaon makes head againe, and is beat off by Iupiter and the Epiриans, Iupiter ceazeth the roome of Lycaon.

Iup. Lycaon's once more fled, we by the helpe
Of these his people, haue confin'd him hence,
To whom belongs this Crowne ?

1. Lord. To Iupiter.

2. Lor. None ſhall protect our liues, but Iupiter.

All. A Iupiter, A Iupiter.

Iup. Nay we are farre from ſuch ambition, Lords,
Nor will we entertaine ſuch royalty.

1. Lor. Faire Prince, who heauen hath ſent by miracle,
To faue vs from the bloudyeft tyrannies,
That ere were practis'd by a mortall prince,
We tender thee our fortunes : oh vouchſafe
To be our Lord, our Gouernour, and King,
Since all thy people ioyntly haue agreed,
None of that tyrants iſſue ſhall ſucced.

All. A Iupiter, A Iupiter.

Iup. We not reſufe the bounty of the Heauens
Expreſt in these your voyces; we accept
Your patronage, and'gainſt Lycaons tyrannyes
Henceforth protecſt you: but our conqueſt yet
Is all vncertaine, ſecond vs deere ſubieſts,
To aſſure our conqueſts: firſt we muſt prouide

Our

The golden Age.

Our safty, ere attempt the helme to guide.

Excunt.

Alarme.

Enter Califto.

Cal. What meane thesee horrid & thesee shrill alarmes
That fright the peacefull Court with hoftle cryes?
Feare and amazement hurry through each chamber;
Th'affrighted Ladies light the darkest roomes
With their bright beauties: whence (ô whence ye Gods)
Are all yon grones, cryes, and inhumane fownds
Of bloud and death: Licaon, where is he?
Why in this dire and fad aftonifhment
Appeares not he to comfort my fad feares,
And cheere me in this dull diftemprature?

Enter in a hurrie with weapons drawne, Iupiter and his fouldiers.

Iup. The Iron bar'd dores, & the suspected vaults,
The Barricadoed gates, and euery roome,
That boafted of his strength, is forc'd to obey
To our free entrance: nothing can withstand
Our oppofite fury. Come, let's ranfacke further,
But ftay, what ftrange deiection beauty's this
That on the sodaine hath surpris'd my heart,
And made me sicke with paffion?

Califto. Hence away,
When we command, who dares prefume to ftay?

Iup. Bright Lady.

Cal. You afright me with your fteele.

Iup. These weapons Lady come to grace your beautie
And these my armes shall be your sanctuary
From all offenfие danger: cheere your sorrow,
Let your bright beauty shoote out of this cloud,
To fearch my heart, as it hath daz'd my eyes.
Are you a Queene enthron'd aboue the Elements,
Made of diuine compofure, or of earth,
Which I can scarce beleeue?

Calift. I am my felfe,
Vnciuill ftranger, you are much to rude,

D 2

Into

The Golden Age.

Into my private chamber to intrude :
Go call the King my father.

Iup. Are you then

Lycaons daughter? (wonder without end,
That from a Fiend an Angell should descend.)
Oh Loue, till now I neuer felt thy dart :
But now her painted eye hath pierc'd my heart.
Faire, can you loue?

Calisto. To be alone I can.

Iup. Women, faire Queene, are nothing without men.
You are but cyphers, empty roomes to fill,
And till mens figures come, vncounted still.
Shall I sweet Lady, adde vnto your grace,
And but for number-fake supply that place.

Cal. You'r one too many, and of all the rest,
That beare mens figure, we can spare you best.
What are you sir ?

Iup. We are Pelafge's King,
And these our subiects.

Calisto. These did of late belong
To King Lycaon (Oh iniurious wrong)

Iup. Oh fute your pitty with your Angell-beauty,
And liue Pelafge's Queene.

Calisto. Giue me a funerall garland to lament,
That beſt becomes my wretched discontent.

Iup. The fun-shine of my ſmiles and iocond loue,
Shall from your browes bright azure Elements,
Disperſe all clouds: behold my crowne is yours,
My ſword, my conqueſt, I am of my ſelke,
Nothing without your ſoft compassionate loue :
For proofe, aske what the heauen, earth, aire, or ſea
Can yeeld to men by power or orifon,
And it is yours.

Cal. Sir, I shall proue your loue.

Iup. Pray vſe me Lady.

Cal. You'l grant it me my Lord.

The golden Age.

Iup. By all my honours, and by all the sweets
I hope for in your loues fruition,
Your wil's your owne.

Cal. You'l not reuoke your word ?

Iup. Bee't to inueft whom I did late degrade,
I'le doo't for you, bright and diuineft maid.

Cal. This onely freedome to your captiue giue
That I a Nunne and profeſt maid may liue.

Iup. More cruell then the tyrant that begat thee,
Hadſt thou ask't loue, gold, ſeruice, Empiry,
This ſword had purchaſt for Calisto all.

Oh moſt vnkinde, in all this vniuerſe,
Ther's but one iewell that I value hye,

And that (vnkinde) you will notlet me buy:
To liue a maid, what iſt? 'tis to liue nothing :

'Tis like a couetous man to hoord vp treaſure,
Bar'd from your owne vſe, and from others pleaſure.

Oh thinke faire creature, that you had a mother,

One that bore you, that you might beare another :

Be you as ſhe was, of an Infant glad,
Since you from her, haue all things that ſhe had.

Should all affect the ſtrict life you deſire,

The world it ſelfe ſhould end when we expire.

Potterity is all, heauens number fill,

Which by your helpe may be increaſed ſtill,

What is it when you looſe your mayden-head,

But make your beauty liue when you be dead

In your faire iſſue?

Cal. Tuff, 'tis all in vaine,

Dian I am now a ſeruant of thy traine.

Iup. Her order is meere hereſiſe, her ſeſt

A ſchifme, 'mongſt maids not worthy your reſpect.

Men were got to get; you borne others to beare.

Wrong not the world ſo much: (nay ſweet your eare)

This flower will wither, not being cropt in time,

Age is too late, then do not looſe your prime.

Sport whilſt you may, before your youth be paſt.

D 3

Loofe

The Golden Age.

And you haue ſworne to keepe them,
Faire *Califto*.

Speake, how eſteeme you them?

*Califto*. With reverence,
Great Queene, I am ſequeſtred from the world,
Euen in my ſoule hate man's ſociety,
And all their luſts, ſuggesſions, all Court-pleaſures,
And City-curioſities are vaine,
And with my finer temper ill agree,
That now haue vow'd ſacred verginity.

*Dian*. We will not of your ſorrowes make recitall
So lately ſuffred by the hand of chance:
We are from the world, & the blind Goddeſſe *Fortune*
We dare to do her worſt, as liuing here
Out of her reach: Vs, ſhe of force muſt ſpare,
They can looſe nothing, that for nothing care.

*Cal.* Madam, deuotion drew me to your ſeruice,
And I am now your hand-maid.

*Dian.* Wher's *Atlanta*?

*Atlanta*. Madame.

*Dian.* Is there no princeſſe in our traine,
As yet vnmatch'd to be her Cabin-fellow,
And ſleepe by her?

*Atlanta*. Madam, we all are cuppled
And twin'd in loue, and hardly is there any
That will be wonne to change her bed-fellow.

*Dian.* You muſt be ſingle till the next arriue,
She that is next admitted of our traine,
Muſt be her bed-companion, ſo tis lotted.
Come Fawns, and Nymphs, and Satyres, girt vs rownd
Whilſt we aſcend our ſtate, and here proclaime
A generall hunting in *Dianaes* name.

*Enter Jupiter like a Nymph, or a Virago.*

*Jupiter.* There I ſtrid too wide. That ſtep was too large for
one that proſeſſeth the ſtraight order: what a pittifull coyle

ſhall

The Golden Age.

Shall I haue to counterfeit this woman, to lifpe (forfooth) to
fimper and fet my face like a sweet Gentlewomans made out of
ginger-bread? shall I venter or no? My face I feare not: for my
beard being in the nonage durft neuer yet looke a Barber in the
face. And for my complexion, I haue knowne as browne Laffes
as my felfe haue gone for currant. And for my ſtature, I am not
yet of that Giant ſize, but I may paffe for a bona Roba, a Rounceual
a Virago, or a good manly Laffe. If they ſhould put me to ſpinne,
or to ſow, or any ſuch Gentlewomanlike exercife, how ſhould I
excufe my bringing vp? Tufh, the hazzard is nothing, compa-
red with the value of the gaine. Could I manadge this buſineſſe
with Art, I ſhould come to a hundred pretty ſights in a yeare,
as in the Sommer when we come to ſlea our ſmocks, &c. I hope
Diana doth not vſe to ſearch her maides before ſhe entertaines
them. But howſoever

Be my loffe certaine, and my profit none,
Tis for Calisto's loue, and I will on.

Diana. Wee'l chafe the Stagge, and with our Bugles ſthrill,
The neighbouring Forreſts with lowd eccho's fill.

Up. Is this a heauen terreftriall that containes
So many earthly Angels? (O amazement)
Diana with theſe beauties circled round,
Pal'd in with theſe bright faces, beares more ſtate,
Then Gods haue lent them by the power of fate.
I am deſcrid,

Diana. Soft, what intruder's that?
Command her hither.

Up. Haile diuineſt Queene,
I come to do thee ſeruice.

Diana. A manly Laffe, a ſtout Virago,
Were all our traine proportion'd to thy ſize,
We need not feare mens ſubtill trecheries.
Thy birth and fortunes?

Up. Madam, I deriue
My birth from my noble and high parentage:
Report of your rare beauty, with my loue
And zeale I ſtill beare to a virgins life,

E

Haue

The Golden Age.

Haue drawne me to your seruice.

*Diana.* Welcome Lady. Her largenesse pleaseth mee, if shee haue courage proportion'd with her limbs, shee shall be Champion to all our wronged Ladies. You *Atlanta*, present her oath, *Her oath is giuen on Dianaes bow*

*Atlan.* Madam you must be true
To bright *Diana* and her Virgin crew.

*Iup.* To bright *Diana* and her traine I'll stand.

*Diana.* What can you do?

(aside,

*Iup.* More then the best here can.

*Atlan.* You shall vow chafity:

*Iup.* That's more then I can promise (well proceed)

*Atlan.* You neuer shall with hated man attone,
But ly with woman or elfe lodge alone;

*Iup.* Make my oath strong, my protestation deep,
For this I vowe by all the Gods to keepe.

*Atlan.* With Ladies you shall onely sport and play,
And in their fellowship spend night and day.

*Iup.* I shall.

*Atlan.* Confort with them at boord and bed,
And weare no man shall haue your maiden-head.

*Iup.* By all the powers both earthly and diuine,
If ere I loof't, a woman shall haue mine.

*Diana.* Now your're ours, you'r welcome, kiffe our hand,
You promise well, wee like you, and will grace you.
And if with our election your's agree.

*Califto* here your bed-fellow shall be.

*Iup.* You Gods you will eternize me your choice:
Madam I feale, both with my soule and voyce.

*Dian.* Then hand each other & acquaint your selues,
And now let vs proceed in the pursuite,
Of our determin'd pastimes, dedicate

To the entertainement of these beuteous maides.

Satyres and fawnes ring out your pleafing quire,
This done, our Bugles shall to heauen aspire.

*Exeunt.*

*Hornes winded, a great noise of hunting, Enter Diana, all her Nimphes in the chafe, Iupiter pulling Califto back.*

*Diana.* Follow, purfue, the Stag hath tooke the Mountaine,
Come

The Golden Age.

Come let vs climbe the fteepe clifts after him,
Let through the aire your nimble iauelinges sing.
And our free spoyles home with the euening bring.
All. Follow, follow, follow.

Winde hornes, enter the Satyrs as in the chafe.

Sat. The nimble Ladies haue out-ftript vs quite,
Vnleffe we speede we shall not see him fall.
Wee are too flow in pur Suite of our game;
Let's after tho; since they out-ftrip our eyes,
Runne by their noates, that from their Bugles rife.

Winde hornes. Enter Jupiter, and Califo.

Cal. Haft gentle Lady, we shall loofe our traine,
And miffle Diana's pastime in the chafe,
Hie then to staine our Iauelings gilded points
In bloud of yon swif't Stag, so hot pursu'de.
Will you keepe pace with mee?

Insp. I am tir'd already.

Nor haue I yet bene to these pastimes breath'd,
Sweet shall wee here repose our selues a little?

Cal. And loofe the honour to be firſt at fall?

Insp. Feare not, you shall come time enough to fall.
Either you muſt be so vnkind to mee,
As leaue me to these deferts ſolitary,
Or ſtay till I haue reſt, for I am breathles
And cannot hold it out, behold a place
Remote, an Arbor feated naturally,
Trim'd by the hand of nature for a bower,
Skreen'd by the ſhadowy leaues from the Suns eye.
Sweet will you fit, or on the verdure lye?

Cal. Rather then leaue you, I will loofe the ſport
Insp. I'le finde you pastime, feare not, Oh my Angell,
Whether wilt thou transport me, grant me meaſure.
Of joy before, I ſurſet on this pleaſure.

ſal. Come ſhal's lye downe a little?

Insp. Sooth I will.

I thirſt in ſeas and cannot quaffe my ſill,
Behold before mee a rich Table ſpread.

E 2

And

The Golden Age.

And yet poore I am forc'd to ftarue for bread:
We be alone, the Ladyes farre in chace,
And may I dye an Eunuch by my vowe,
If bright Calisto you eſcape me now,
Sweet bed-fellow your hand, what haue I felt,
Vnleſſe blancht ſnow, of ſubſtance not to me it

Cal. You gripe too hard.

Iup. Good ſooth I ſhall not reſt

Vntill my head be pillowed on thy breaſt.

Cal. Leane on me then.

Iup. So ſhall I wrong mine eyes,

To leaue your face to looke vpon the skyes.

O how I loue the, come let's kiffe and play.

Cal. How,

Iup. So a woman with a woman may.

Cal. I do not like this kifſing.

Iup. Sweet fit ſtill,

Lend me thy lippes, that I may taſte my fill.

Cal. You kiffe too wantonly.

Iup. Thy boſome lend.

And by thy ſoft paps let my hand deſcend.

Cal. Nay fye what meane you?

Iup. Pre'the let me toy,

I would the Gods would ſhape thee to a boy,

Or me into a man.

Cal. A man, how then ?

Iup. Nay ſweet lye ſtill, for we are farre from men,

Lye downe againe. Your foot I oft haue prais'd,

Ey and your legge : (nay let your skirt be rais'd)

I'le meaſure for the wager of a fall,

Who hath the greateſt great, or ſmallest ſmall.

Cal. You are too wanton, and your hand too free.

Iup. You need not bluſh to let a woman ſee.

Cal. My bareneſſe I haue hid from ſight of skyes,

Therefore may barre it any Ladyes eyes.

Iup. Me thinks you ſhould be fat, pray let me feele,

Cal. Oh God you tickle me.

Iup.

# The Golden Age.

Iup. Lend me your hand,
And freely taste me, note how I will stand,
I am not ticklish.
Cal. Lord how well you wooe,
Iup. We maids may wish much, but can nothing do.
Cal. I am weary of this toying.
Iup. Oh but I
In this Eliatum could both lie and dye.
I can forbeare no longer, though my rape
Be punished with my head, she shall not escape.
Say sweet I were a man.

Cal. Thus would I rife,
And fill the Dales and mountaines with my cryes.
A man! (Oh heauen) to gaine Eliatum bliffe,
I'de not be fayd that I a man should kiffe.
Come, lets go wound the Stagge.

Iup. Stay ere you goe,
Here stands one ready that must strike a doe.
And thou art shee, I am Pelagias King,
That thus haue fingled thee, mine thou fhalt be.

Cal. Gods, Angels, men, help all a maid to free.

Iup. Maugre them all th'art mine.

Cal. To do me right,
Helpe fingers, feet, nailes, teeth, and all to fight.
Iup. Not they, nor all Dian's Angell-traine,
Were they in fight, this prize away should gaine.
Act. 3. Scene 1. Enter Homer.
He caries
Exit, her away
in his
armes.
Hom. Yong Iupiter doth force this beauteous maid,

And after would haue made her his bright Queene.
But discontent she in the Forrest staid,
Loath of Diana's virgins to be seene.

Oft did he write, oft send, but all in vaine,
She neuer will returne to Court againe.

Eight moones are fild & wain'd when she grows great
And yong Ioues iffue in her wombe doth spring.

This day Diana doth her Nimphs intreat,
Vnto a folemne bathing, where they bring

E 3

Deflow'r'd

The golden Age.

Deflowr'd Califo, note how she would hide
That which time found, and great Diana spide.

A dumbe shew. Enter Diana and all her Nimphs to bathe them: Shee makes them suruey the place. They unlace themselves, and unlose their buskins: only Califto refuseth to make her ready. Diana sends Atlanta to her, who perforce unlacing her, finds her great belly, and shewes it to Diana, who turnes her out of her society, and leanes her. Califto likewise in great sorrow forsakes the place.

Her crime thus found, shee's banisht from their crew,
And in a caue she childes a valiant sonne,
Cal'd Archas, who doth noble deeds pursue,
And by Ioues gift PELAGIA'S seate hath wonne,
Which after by his worth, and glorious fame,
He hath transf'til'd Archadia by his name.

But we returne to Tytan, who by spyes
Hath learn'd, that Saturne hath kept fonnes alive.

He now assembles all his strange allies,
And for the crowne of Creet intends to striue.

Of their succeſſe, and fortunes we proceed,
Where Tytans fonnes by youthfull Ioue muſt bleed,
Enter Tytan, Lycaon, Enceladus, Ægeon in Armes,
drum, colours, and attendants,

Tytan. Now are we strong, our giant Ilfue growne,
Our fonnes in feuerall kingdoms we haue planted,
From whence they haue deriu'd vs braue supplyes,
From Sicily, and from th'Ægean Sea,

That of our fonne Ægeon beares the name.

We haue assembled infinites of men,
To auenge vs on proud Saturnes periury.

Lycaon. What I haue said to Tytan, I'le make good,
Tis rumor'd Mellifeus Foster-child

He that expulſt me from PELAGIA'S Crowne.

And in my high tribunall fits enthron'd,
Is Saturnes fonne, and ſtiled Iupiter,

(Befides my daughter by his luſt deflowred)

On vs the poore diſtreſſed Tytanoyes

He hath committed many out-rages.

Æge. All which wee'l puniſh on K. Saturnes head,

I