Endymion, The Man in the Moon.  
Played before the queen's Majesty at Greenwich on Candlemas day at night, by the Children of Paul's.  

NOSCE TE IPSUM NE QUID NIMIS  
LOVE AND LIVE   
AT LONDON, Printed by I. Charlewood, for the widow Broome. 1591.   

❧ The Printer to the Reader.  
SInce the Plays in Paul's were dissolved, there are certain Comedies come to my hands by chance, which were presented before her Majesty at several times by the children of Paul's. This is the first, and if in any place it shall displease, I will take more pains to perfect the next. I refer it to thy indifferent judgement to peruse, whom I would willingly please. And if this may pass with thy good liking, I will then go forward to publish the rest. In the mean time, let this have thy good word for my bevere, couragement.  
Farewell   

The Prologue.  
MOst high and happy Princess, we must tell you a tale of the Man in the Moon, which if it seem ridiculous for the method, or superfluous for the matter, or for the means incredible, for three faults we can make but one excuse. It is a tale of the Man in the Moon.  
It was forbidden in old time to dispute of chimera, because it was a fiction, we hope in our times none will apply pastimes, because they are fancies; for there liveth none under the Sun, that knows what to make of the Man in the Moon. we present neither Comedy, nor Tragedy, nor story, nor any thing, 〈◊〉 whosoever heareth may say this, Why here is a tale of the Man in the Moon.   


Actus primus. Scaena prima.  Endymion. Eumenides. End. 
I Find Eumenides in all things both variety to content, & satiety to glut, saving only in my affections, which are so stayed, and withal so stately, that I can neither satisfy my heart with love, nor mine eyes with wonder. My thoughts Eumenides are stitched to the stars, which being as high as I can see; thou mayst imagine how much higher they are then I can reach.  Eume. 
If you be enamoured of any thing above the Moon, your thoughts are ridiculous, for that things immortal are not subject to affections, if allured or enchanted with these transitory things under the Moon, you show yourself senseless, to attribute such lofty titles, to such love trifles.  End. 
My love is placed neither under the Moon nor above.  Eum. 
I hope you be not sotted upon the man in the Moon.  End. 
No but settled, either to die, or possess the Moon herself.  Eum. 
Is Endymion mad, or do I mistake? do you love the Moon Endymion?  End. 
Eumenides the Moon.  Eum. 
There was never any so peevish to imagine the Moon either capable of affection, or shape of a Mistress: for as impossible it is to make love fit to her humour which no man knoweth, as a coat to her form, which continueth not in one bigness whilst she is measuring. Cease of Endymion to feed so much upon fancies. That melancholy blood must be purged, which draweth you to a dotage no less miserable than monstrous.  End. 
My thoughts have no veins, and yet unless they be let blood, I shall perish.  Eum. 
But they have vanities, which being reformed, you may be restored.  End. 
O fair Cynthia, why do others term thee unconstant, whom I have ever found unmovable? Injurious time, corrupt manners, unkind men, who finding a constancy not to be matched, in my sweet Mistress, have christened her with the name of wavering, waxing, and waning. Is she inconstant that keepeth a settled course, which since her first creation altereth not one minute in her moving? There is nothing thought more admirable, or commendable in the sea, than the ebbing and flowing, and shall the Moon, from whom the Sea taketh this virtue, be accounted fickle for increasing, & decreasing? Flowers in their buds, are nothing worth till they be blown, nor blossoms accounted till they be ripe fruit, and shall we then say they be changeable, for that they grow from seeds to leaves, from leaves to buds, from buds to their perfection? then, why be not twigs that become trees, children that become men, and Mornings that grow to Evenings, termed wavering, for that they continue not at one stay? I but Cynthia, being in her fullness, decayeth, as not delighting in her greatest beauty, or withering when she should be most honoured. When malice cannot object any thing, folly will, making that a vice, which is the greatest virtue. What thing (my Mistress excepted) being in the pride of her beauty, & latter minute of her age, that waxeth young again? Tell me Eumenides, what is he that having a Mistress of ripe years, & infinite virtues, great honours, and unspeakable beauty, but would wish that she might grow tender again? getting youth by years, and never decaying beauty, by time, whose fair face, neither the Summer's blaze can scorch, nor Winter's blast chap, nor the numbering of years breed altering of colours. Such is my sweet Cynthia, whom time cannot touch, because she is divine, nor will offend because she is delicate. O Cynthia, if thou shouldest always continue at thy fullness, both Gods and men would conspire to ravish thee. But thou to abate the pride of our affections, dost detract from thy perfections, thinking it sufficient, if once in a month we enjoy a glimpse of thy majesty, and then, to increase our griefs, thou dost decrease thy gleams, coming out of thy royal robes, wherewith thou dazzl'st our eyes, down into thy swath clouts, beguiling our eyes. And then  Eum. 
Stay there Endymion, thou that committest Idolatry, wilt straight blaspheme, if thou be suffered. Sleep would do thee more good than speech: the Moon heareth thee not, or if she do, regardeth thee not.  End. 
Vain Eumenides, whose thoughts never grow higher than the crown of thy head. Why troublest thou me, having neither head to conceive the cause of my love, or a heart to receive the impressions? follow thou thine own fortunes, which creep on the earth, & suffer me to fly to mine, whose fall though it be desperate, yet shall it come by daring. Farewell  Eum. 
Without doubt Endymion is bewitched, otherwise in a man of such rare virtues, there could not harbour a mind of such extreme madness. I will follow him, lest in this fancy of the Moon, he deprive himself of the sight of the Sun.  Exit.  

Actus primus. Scaena secunda.  Tellus. Floscula. Tellus. 
Treacherous and most perjured Endymion, is Cynthia the sweetness of thy life, and the bitterness of my death? What revenge may be devised so full of shame, as my thoughts are replenished with malice? Tell me Floscula if falseness in love can possibly be punished with extremity of hate. As long as sword, fire, or poison may be hired, no traitor to my love shall live unrevenged. Were thy oaths without number, thy kisses without measure, thy sighs without end, forged to deceive a poor credulous virgin, whose simplicity had been worth thy favour and better fortune? If the Gods sit unequal beholders of injuries, or laughers at lovers deceits, then let mischief be as well forgiven in women, as perjury winked at in men.  Flosc. 
madam, if you would compare the state of Cynthia with your own, and the height of Endymion his thoughts, with the meanness of your fortune, you would rather yield than contend, being between you and her no comparison, and rather wonder than rage at the greatness of his mind, being affected with a thing more than mortal.  Tellus 
No comparison Floscula? and why so? is not my beauty divine, whose body is decked with fair flowers, and veins are Vines, yielding sweet liquour to the dullest spirits, whose ears are Corn, to bring strength, and whose hears are grass, to bring abundance? Doth not Frankincense, & Mirth breath out of my nostrils, and all the sacrifice of the Gods, breed in my bowels? Infinite are my creatures, without which, neither thou nor Endymion, nor any could love, or live.  Flosc. 
But know you not fair Lady, that Cynthia governeth all things? Your grapes would be but dry husks, your Corn but chaff, and all your virtues vain, were it not Cynthia that preserveth the one in the bud, and nourisheth the other in the blade, and by her influence both comforteth all things, and by her authority commandeth all creatures; Suffer then Endymion to follow his affections, though to obtain her be impossible, and let him flatter himself in his own imaginations, because they are immortal.  Tellus 
Loath I am Endymion thou shouldest die, because I love thee well, and that thou shouldest live it grieveth me, because thou lovest Cynthia too well. In these extremities what shall I do? Floscula no more words, I am resolved. He shall neither live, nor die.  Flosc. 
A strange practice, if it be possible.  Tellus 
Yes, I will entangle him in such a sweet net, that he shall neither find the means to come out, nor desire it. All allurements of pleasure will I cast before his eyes, insomuch that he shall slake that love which he now voweth to Cynthia, and burn in mine, of which he seemeth careless. In this languishing, between my amorous devices, and his own loose desires, there shall such dissolute thoughts take root in his head, and over his heart grow so thick a skin, that neither hope of preferment, nor fear of punishment, nor counsel of the wisest, nor company of the worthiest, shall alter his humour, nor make him once to think of his honour.  Flosc. 
A revenge incredible, and if it may be, unnatural.  Tellus. 
He shall know the malice of a woman, to have neither mean, nor end, and of a woman deluded in love, to have neither rule, nor reason. I can do it, I must, I will. All his virtues will I shadow with vices, his person (ah sweet person) shall he deck with such rich Robes, as he shall forget it is his own person, his sharp wit (ah wit too sharp, that hath cut off all my joys) shall he use, in flattering of my face, and devising Sonnets in my favour. The prime of his youth and pride of his time, shall be spent in melancholy passions, careless behaviour, untamed thoughts, and unbridled affections.  Flosc. 
When this is done what then, shall it continue till his death, or shall he dote for ever in this delight?  Tellus. 
Ah Floscula, thou rendest my heart in sunder, in putting me in remembrance of the end.  Flosc. 
Why if this be not the end, all the rest is to no end.  Tellus 
Yet suffer me to imitate juno, who would turn Jupiter's lovers to beasts on the earth, though she knew afterwards they should be stars in heaven.  Flosc. 
Affection that is bred by enchantment, is like a flower that is wrought in silk, in colour and form most like, but nothing at all in substance or savour.  Tellus 
It shall suffice me if the world talk that I am favoured of Endymion.  Flosc. 
Well, use your own will, but you shall find that love gotten with witchcraft, is as unpleasant, as fish, taken with medicines unwholesome.  Tellus Floscula, 
they that be so poor that they have neither net nor hook, will rather poison dough then pine with hunger: and she that is so oppressed with love, that she is neither able with beauty, nor wit to obtain her friend, will rather use unlawful means, then try untolerable pains. I will do it.  Exit. Flosc. 
Then about it. Poor Endymion, what traps are laid for thee, because thou honourest one that all the world wondereth at. And what plots are cast to make thee unfortunate, that studiest of all men to be the faithfullest.  Exit.  

Actus primus. Scaena tertia.  Dares, Samias, Sir Tophas, Epiton. Dares 
Now our Masters are in love up to the ears, what have we to do, but to be in knavery, up to the crowns.  Samias 
O that we had Sir Tophas that brave Squire, in the midst of our mirth, & ecce autem, will you see the devil?  Enter Sir Tophas. Tophas 
Epi.  Epi. 
Here sir.  Tophas 
I brook not this idle humour of love, it tickleth not my liver, from whence the Love-mongers in former age seemed to infer they should proceed.  Epi. 
Love sir may lie in your lungs, and I think it doth, and that is the cause you blow, and are so pursy.  Top. 
Tush boy, I think it but some devise of the Poet to get money.  Epi. 
A Poet? what's that?  Tophas 
Dost thou not know what a Poet is?  Epi. 
No.  Top. 
Why fool, a Poet is as much as one should say, a Poet. But soft, yonder be two Wrens, shall I shoot at them?  Epi. 
They are two lads.  Tophas 
Larks or wrens, I will kill them.  Epi. 
Larks? are you blind? they are two little Boys.  Top. 
Birds, or boys, they are both but a pittance for my breakfast, therefore have at them, for their brains must as it were embroider my bolts.  Sam. 
Stay your courage valiant Knight, for your wisdom is so weary that it stayeth itself.  Dares 
Why Sir Tophas have you forgotten your old friends?  Top. 
friends? Nego argumentum.  Sam. 
And why not friends?  Top. 
Because Amicitia (as in old Annuals we find) is inter pares, now my pretty companions, you shall see how unequal you be to me, but I will not cut you quite off, you shall be my half friends, for reaching to my middle, so far as from the ground to the waist I will be your friend.  Dares 
Learnedly. But what shall become of the rest of your body, from the waist to the crown?  Top. 
My children quod supra vos nihil ad vos, you must think the rest immortal, because you cannot reach it.  Epi. 
Nay I tell ye my Master is more than a man.  Dar. 
And thou less than a mouse.  Top. 
But what be you two?  Sam. 
I am Samias, page to Endymion.  Dar. 
And I Dares, page to Eumenides.  Tophas 
Of what occupation are your Masters.  Dares 
Occupation, you clown, why they are honourable, and warriors.  Top. 
Then are they my prentices.  Dares 
Thine, and why so?  Tophas 
I was the first that ever devised war, and therefore by Mars himself given me for my Arms a whole armory, and thus I go as you see, clothed with Artillery, it is not Silks (milksops) nor tissues, nor the fine wool of Cares, but iron, steel, swords, flame, shot, terror, clamour, blood, and ruin, that rocks asleep my thoughts, which never had any other cradle, but cruelty. Let me see, do you not bleed?  Dares 
Why so?  Tophas 
Commonly my words wound.  Samias 
What then do your blows?  Tophas 
Not only confound, but also confound.  Samias 
how darest thou come so near thy Master Epi? Sir Tophas spare us.  Tophas 
You shall live. You Samias because you are little. You Dares, because you are no bigger, and both of you, because you are but two; for commonly I kill by the dozen, and have for every particular adversary, a peculiar weapon.  Samias 
May we know the use for our better skill in war?  Tophas 
You shall. Here is a burbolt for the ugly beast the Blackbird.  Dares 
A cruel sight.  Tophas 
Here is the Musket, for the untamed, (or as the vulgar sort term it) the wild Mallard.  Samias 
O desperate attempt.  Epi. 
Nay my Master will match them.  Dares 
I if he catch them.  Tophas 
Here is a spear and shield, and both necessary, the one to conquer, the other to subdue, or overcome the terrible trout, which although he be under the water, yet tying a string to the top of my spear, and an engine of iron to the end of my line, I overthrow him, and then herein I put him.  Samias 
O wonderful war. Dares, didst thou ever hear such a dolt?  Dares 
All the better, we shall have good sport hereafter, if we can get leisure.  Samias 
Leisure, I will rather lose my masters service then his company, look how he struts; But what is this, call you it your sword?  Tophas 
No, it is my Scimitar, which I by construction often studying to be compendious, call my Smiter.  Dares 
What, are you also learned sir?  Tophas 
Learned? I am all Mars and Ars.  Samias 
Nay you are all Mass and Ass.  Tophas 
Mock you me? You shall both suffer, yet with such weapons, as you shall make choice of the weapon wherewith you shall perish. Am I all a mass or lump, is there no proportion in me? Am I all Ass? is there no wit in me. Epi, prepare them to the slaughter.  Samias 
I pray sir hear us speak, we call you Mass, which your learning doth well understand, is all Man, for mas. maris is a man. Then As (as you know) is a weight, and we for your virtues account you a weight.  Tophas 
The Latin hath saved your lives, the which a world of silver could not have ransomed. I understand you, and pardon you.  Dares 
Well Sir Tophas we bid you farewell, & at our next meeting, we will be ready to do you service.  Tophas Samias' 
I thank you. Dares I thank you, but especially I thank you both.  Samias 
wisely. Come, next time we'll have some pretty Gentlewomen with us to walk, for without doubt with them he will be very dainty.  Dares 
Come let us see what our Masters do, it is high time.  Exeunt. Tophas 
Now will I march into the field, where if I cannot encounter with my foul enemies, I will withdraw myself to the River, & there fortify for fish: for there resteth no minute free from fight.  Exit.  

Actus primus. Saena quarta.  Tellus, Floscula, Dipsas. Tellus 
Behold Floscula, we have met with the Woman by chance that we sought for by travel; I will break my mind to her without ceremony or circumstance, lest we lose that time in advise, that should be spent in execution.  Flosc. 
Use your discretion, I will in this case, neither give counsel nor consent, for there cannot be a thing more monstrous, than to force affection by sorcery, neither do I imagine any thing more impossible.  Tellus 
Tush Floscula, in obtaining of love, what impossibilities will I not try? and for the winning of Endymion, what impieties will I not practise? Dipsas, whom as many honour for age, as wonder at for cunning, listen in few words to my tale, & answer in one word to the purpose, for that neither my burning desire can afford long speech, nor the short time I have to stay many delays. Is it possible by herbs, stones, spells, incantation, enchantment, exorcisms, fire, metals, planets, or any practice to plant affection where it is not, and to supplant it where it is?  Dipsas 
Fair Lady, you may imagine that these hoary hears are not void of experience, nor the great name that goeth of my cunning to be without cause. I can darken the Sun by my skill, and remove the Moon out of her course; I can restore youth to the aged, and make hills without bottoms; there is nothing that I can not do, but that only which you would have me do, and therein I differ from the Gods, that I am not able to rule hearts, for were it in my power to place affection by appointment, I would make such evil appetites, such inordinate lusts, such cursed desires, as all the world should be filled both with superstitious heats, and extreme love.  Tellus 
Unhappy Tellus, whose desires are so desperate, that they are neither to be conceived of any creature, nor to be cured by any art.  Dipsas 
This I can, breed slackness in love, though never root it out. What is he whom you love, & what she that he honoureth?  Tellus 
Endymion, sweet Endymion is he that hath my heart, and Cynthia, too too fair Cynthia, the miracle of Nature, of time, of Fortune, is the Lady that he delights in, and dotes on every day, and dies for ten thousand times a day.  Dipsas 
Would you have his love, either by absence of sickness aslaked. Would you that Cynthia should mistrust him, or be jealous of him without colour?  Tellus 
It is the only thing I crave, that seeing my love to Endymion unspotted, cannot be accepted, his truth to Cynthia (though it be unspeakable) may be suspected.  Dipsas 
I will undertake it, and overtake him, that all his love shall be doubted of, and therefore become desperate: but this will wear out with time, that treadeth all things down but truth.  Tellus 
Let us go.  Dipsas 
I follow.  Exeunt.   


Actus secundus. Scaena prima.  Endymion, Tellus. End. 
O Fair Cynthia, o unfortunate Endymion. Why was not thy birth as high as thy thoughts, or her beauty less than heavenly? or why are not thine honours as rare as her beauty? or thy fortunes as great as thy deserts? Sweet Cynthia, how wouldst thou be pleased, how possessed? will labours (patient of all extremities) obtain thy love? There is no Mountain so steep that I will not climb, no monster so cruel that I will not tame, no action so desperate that I will not attempt. Desirest thou the passions of love, the sad and melancholy moods of perplexed minds, the not to be expressed torments of racked thoughts? Behold my sad tears, my deep sighs, my hollow eyes, my broken sleeps, my heavy countenance. Wouldst thou have me vowed only to thy beauty and consume every minute of time in thy service, remember my solitary life, almost these seven years, whom have I entertained but mine own thoughts, and thy virtues? What company have I used but contemplation? Whom have I wondered at but thee? Nay whom have I not contemned, for thee? Have I not crept to those on whom I might have trodden, only because thou didst shine upon them? Have not injuries been sweet to me, if thou vouchsafest I should bear them? Have I not spent my golden years in hopes, waxing old with wishing, yet wishing nothing but thy love. With Tellus, fair Tellus, have I dissembled, using her but as a cloak for mine affections, that others seeing my mangled and disordered mind, might think it were for one that loveth me, not for Cynthia, whose perfection alloweth no companion, nor comparison.  
In the midst of these distempered thoughts of mine, thou art not only jealous of my truth, but careless, suspicious, and secure: which strange humour maketh my mind as desperate as thy conceits are doubtful. I am none of those Wolves that bark most, when thou shinest brightest. But that fish, (thy fish Cynthia in the flood Aranis) which at thy waxing is as white as the driven snow, and at thy waning, as black as deepest darkness. I am that Endymion (sweet Cynthia) that have carried my thoughts in equal balance with my actions, being always as free from imagining ill, as enterprising; That Endymion, whose eyes never esteemed any thing fair, but thy face, whose tongue termed nothing rare but thy virtues, and whose heart imagined nothing miraculous, but thy government. Yea that Endymion, who divorcing himself from the amiableness of all Ladies, the bravery of all Courts, the company of all men, hath chosen in a solitary Cell to live, only by feeding on thy favour, accounting in the world (but thyself) nothing excellent, nothing immortal; thus mayst thou see every vain sinew, muscle, and artery of my love, in which there is no flattery, nor deceit; error, nor art. But soft, here cometh Tellus, I must turn my other face to her like janus, lest she be as suspicious as Juno.  Enter Tellus. Tellus 
Yonder I espy Endymion, I will seem to suspect nothing but soothe him, that seeing I cannot obtain the depth of his love, I may learn the height of his dissembling; Floscula and Dipsas, withdraw yourselves out of our sight, yet be within the hearing of our saluting; How now Endymion, always solitary? no company but your own thoughts? no friend but melancholy fancies?  Endymion 
You know (fair Tellus) that the sweet remembrance of your love, is the only companion of my life, and thy presence, my paradise, so that I am not alone when nobody is with me, and in heaven itself when thou art with me.  Tellus 
Then you love me Endymion.  End. 
Or else I live not Tellus.  Tellus 
Is it not possible for you Endymion, to dissemble?  End. 
Not Tellus, unless I could make me a woman.  Tellus 
Why, is dissembling joined to their sex inseparable? as heat to fire, heaviness to earth, moisture to water, thinness to air?  End. 
No, but found in their sex, as common, as spots upon Doves, moles upon faces, Caterpillars upon sweet apples, cobwebs upon fair windows.  Tellus 
Do they all dissemble?  Endymion 
All but one.  Tellus 
Who is that?  End. 
I dare not tell. For if I should say you, then would you imagine my flattery to be extreme, if another, then would you think my love to be but indifferent.  Tellus 
You will be sure I shall take no vantage of your words. But in sooth Endymion, without more ceremonies, is it not Cynthia?  Endymion 
You know Tellus, that of the Gods we are forbidden to dispute, because their deities come not within the compass of our reasons, and of Cynthia we are allowed not to talk but to wonder, because her virtues are not within the reach of our capacities.  Tellus 
Why, she is but a woman.  End. 
No more was Venus.  Tellus 
she is but a virgin.  Endymion 
No more was Vesta.  Tellus 
She shall have an end.  Endim. 
So shall the world.  Tellus 
Is not her beauty subject to time?  End. 
No more than time is to standing still.  Tellus 
Wilt thou make her immortal?  End. 
No, but incomparable.  Tellus 
Take heed Endymion, lest like the Wrestler in Olimpia, that striving to lift an impossible weight, catched an incurable strain, thou by fixing thy thoughts above thy reach, fall into a disease without all recure? But I see thou art now in love with Cynthia.  Endim. 
No Tellus, thou knowest that the stately Cedar, whose top reacheth unto the clouds, never boweth his head to the shrubs that grow in the valley, nor ivy that climbeth up by the Elm, can ever get hold of the beams of the Sun; Cynthia I honour in all humility, whom none ought, or dare adventure to love, whose affections are immortal, & virtues infinite. Suffer me therefore to gaze on the Moon, at whom, were it not for thyself, I would die with wondering.  Exeunt.  

Actus secundus. Scaena secunda.  Dares, Samias, Scintilla, Favilla. Dares 
Come Samias, didst thou ever hear such a sighing, the one for Cynthia, the other for Semele, & both for moon shine in the water?  Sam. 
Let them sigh, and let us sing, how say you gentlewomen, are not our Masters too far in love?  Scint. 
Their tongues happily are dipped to the root in amorous words and sweet discourses, but I think their hearts are scarce tipped on the side, with constant desires.  Dares 
How say you Favilla, is not love a lurcher, that taketh men's stomachs away that they cannot eat, their spleen that they cannot laugh, their hearts that they cannot fight, their eyes that they cannot sleep, and leaveth nothing but livers to make nothing but Lovers?  Fauil. 
Away peevish boy, a rod were better under thy girdle, than love in thy mouth: it will be a forward Cock that croweth in the shell.  Dares 
Alas good old gentlewoman, how it becometh you to be grave,  Scint. 
Favilla though she be but a spark, yet is she fire.  Fauil. 
And you Scintilla be not much more than a spark, though you would be esteemed a flame.  Sam. 
It were good sport to see the fight between two sparks.  Dares 
Let them to it, and we will warm us by their words.  Scint. 
You are not angry Favilla?  Faui. 
That is Scintilla, as you list to take it.  Sam. 
That, that.  Scnit. 
This it is to be matched with girls, who coming but yesterday from making of babies, would before to morrow be accounted Matrons.  Fauil. 
I cry your Matronship mercy; because your Pantables be higher with cork, therefore your feet must needs be higher in the insteps: you will be mine elder, because you stand upon a stool, and I on the flower.  Sam. 
Good, good.  Dar. 
Let them alone, and see with what countenance they will become friends.  Scint. 
Nay, you think to be the wiser, because you mean to have the last word.  Sam. 
Step between them lest they scratch. In faith gentlewomen, seeing we came out to be merry, let not your jarring mar our jests: be friends, how say you?  Scint. 
I am not angry, but it spited me to see how short she was.  Fauil. 
I meant nothing, till she would needs cross me.  Dares 
Then so let it rest.  Scint. 
I am agreed.  Fauil. 
And I, yet I never took any thing so unkindly in my life.  Scint. 
'tis I have the cause, that never offered the occasion.  Dares 
Excellent and right like a woman.  Sam. 
A strange sight to see water come out of fire.  Dares 
It is their property, to carry in their eyes, fire, and water, tears and torches, and in their mouths, honey and gall.  Scint. 
You will be a good one if you live, but what is yonder formal fellow?  Enter Sir Tophas. Dares 
Sir Tophas, sir Tophas, of whom we told you: if you be good wenches make as though you love him, and wonder at him.  Fauil. 
we will do our parts.  Dares 
But first let us stand aside, and let him use his garb, for all consisteth in his gracing.  Tophas 
Epi.  Epi. 
At hand sir.  Tophas. 
How likest thou this Martial life, where nothing but blood besprinkleth our bosoms? Let me see be our enemies' fat?  Epi. 
Passing fat: and I would not change this life to be a Lord, and yourself passeth all comparison, for other Captains kill and beat, and there is nothing you kill, but you also eat.  Tophas 
I will draw out their guts out of their bellies, and tear the flesh with my teeth, so mortal is my hate, and so eager my unstaunched stomach.  Epi. 
My master thinks himself the valiantest man in the world if he kill a wren: so warlike a thing he accounteth to take away life, though it be from a Lark.  Tophas 
Epi, I find my thoughts to swell, and my spirit to take wings, in so much that I cannot continue within the compass of so slender combats.  Fauil. 
This passeth.  Scint. 
Why is he not mad?  Sam. 
No, but a little vain glorious.  Tophas. 
Epi.  Epi. 
Sir.  Tophas 
I will encounter that black and cruel enemy, that beareth rough and unhewed locks upon his body, whose Sire throweth down the strongest walls, whose legs are as many as both ours, on whose head are placed most horrible horns, by nature, as a defence from all harms.  Epi. 
What mean you Master to be so desperate?  Tophas 
Honour inciteth me, and very hunger compelleth me.  Epi. 
What is that monster?  Tophas 
The Monster Ouis. I have said, let thy wits work.  Epi. 
I cannot imagine it; yet let me see, a black enemy with rough locks it may be a sheep, and Ouis is a sheep: his Sire so strong, a Ram is a sheeps Sire: that being also an engine of war, horns he hath, and four legs, so hath a sheep: without doubt this monster is a black sheep; Is it not a sheep that you mean?  Tophas 
Thou hast hit it, that Monster will I kill and sup with.  Sam. 
Come let us take him off Sir Tophas all hail.  Tophas 
Welcome children, I seldom cast mine eyes so low as to the crowns of your heads, and therefore pardon me that I spoke not all this while.  Dares 
No harm done, here be fair Ladies come to wonder at your person, your valour, your wit, the report whereof, hath made them careless of their own honours, to glut their eyes and hearts upon yours.  Tophas 
Report cannot but injure me, for that not knowing fully what I am, I fear she hath been a niggard in her praises.  Scint. 
No gentle knight, Report hath been prodigal, for she hath left you no equal, nor herself credit, so much hath she told, yet no more than we now see.  Dares 
A good wench.  Fauil. 
If there remain as much pity toward women, as there is in you courage against your enemies, then shall we be happy, who hearing of your person, came to see it, and seeing it, are now in love with it.  Tophas 
Love me Ladies? I easily believe it, but my tough heart receiveth no impression with sweet words. Mars may pierce it, Venus shall not paint on it.  Fauil. 
A cruel saying.  Sam. 
there's a girl.  Dares 
Will you cast these Ladies away, and all for a little love? do but speak kindly.  Tophas 
There cometh no soft syllable within my lips, custom hath made my words bloody, and my heart barbarous: that pelting word love, how waterish it is in my mouth, it carrieth no sound, hate, horror, death, are speeches that nourish my spirits. I like honey but I care not for the bees, I delight in music but I love not to play on the bagpipes, I can vouchsafe to hear the voice of women, but to touch their bodies I disdain it, as a thing childish, and fit for such men as can digest nothing but milk.  Scint. 
A hard heart, shall we die for your love, and find no remedy.  Tophas. 
I have already taken a surfeit.  Epi. 
Good master pity them.  Tophas 
Pity them Epi? no I do not think that this breast shallbe pestered with such a foolish passion. What is that the gentlewoman carrieth in a chain?  Epi. 
Why it is a Squirrel.  Tophas 
A squirrel? O Gods what things are made for money.  Dares. 
Is not this gentleman overwise?  Fauil. 
I could stay all day with him, if I feared not to be shent.  Scint. 
Is it not possible to meet again.  Dares 
Yes at any time.  Fauil. 
Then let us hasten home.  Scint. 
Sir Tophas, the God of war deal better with you, than you do with the God of love.  Fauil. 
Our love we may dissemble, digest we cannot, but I doubt not but time will hamper you, and help us.  Tophas 
I defy time, who hath no interest in my heart: come Epi. let me to the battle with that hideous beast, love is pap and hath no relish in my taste, because it is not terrible.  Dares 
Indeed a black sheep is a perilous beast, but let us in till another time.  Fauil. 
I shall long for that time.  Exeunt.  

Actus secundus. Scaena tertia.  Endymion, Dipsas, Bagoa. End. 
No rest Endymion? still uncertain how to settle thy steps by day, or thy thoughts by night? thy truth is measured by thy fortune, and thou art judged unfaithful because thou art unhappy. I will see if I can beguile myself with sleep, & if no slumber will take hold in my eyes, yet will I embrace the golden thoughts in my head, and wish to melt by musing: that as ebon, which no fire can scorch, is yet consumed with sweet savours, so my heart which cannot be bent by the hardness of fortune, may be bruised by amorous desires, On yonder bank never grew any thing but Lunary, and hereafter I will never have any bed but that bank. O Endymion, Tellus was fair, but what availeth Beauty without wisdom? Nay Endymion she was wise, but what availeth wisdom without honour? she was honourable Endymion, bely her not, I but how obscure is honour without fortune? Was she not fortunate whom so many followed? Yes, yes, but base is fortune without Majesty: thy Majesty Cynthia all the world knoweth and wondereth at, but not one in the world that can imitate it or comprehend it. No more Endymion, sleep or die; Nay die for to sleep it is impossible, and yet I know not how it cometh to pass, I feel such a heaviness both in mine eyes and heart, that I am suddenly benumbed, yea in every joint: it may be weariness, for when did I rest? it may be deep melancholy, for when did I not sigh? Cynthia, I so, I say Cynthia.  He falls asleep. Dipsas 
Little dost thou know Endymion when thou shalt wake, for hadst thou placed thy heart as low in love, as thy head lieth now in sleep, thou mightest have commanded Tellus, whom now in stead of a Mistress, thou shalt find a tomb. These eyes must I seal up by Art, not Nature, which are to be opened neither by Art nor Nature. Thou that layst down with golden locks, shalt not awake until they be turned to silver hairs: and that chin, on which scarcely appeareth soft down, shallbe filled with bristles as hard as broom: thou shalt sleep out thy youth and flowering time, and become dry hay before thou knewest thyself green grass, & ready by age to step into the grave when thou wakest, that was youthful in the Court when thou laidst thee down to sleep. The malice of Tellus hath brought this to pass, which if she could not have entreated of me by fair means, she would have commanded by menacing, for from her gather we all our simples to maintain our sorceries. Fan with this hemlock over his face, and sing the enchantment for sleep, whilst I go in and finish those ceremonies that are required in our Art: take heed ye touch not his face, for the Fan is so seasoned that who so it toucheth with a leaf shall presently die, and over whom the wind of it breatheth, he shall sleep for ever.  Exit. Bagoa 
Let me alone, I will be careful. What hap hadst thou Endymion to come under the hands of Dipsas. O fair Endymion, how it grieveth me that that fair face must be turned to a withered skin, & taste the pains of death before it feel the reward of love. I fear Tellus will repent that which the heavens themselves seemed to rue, but I hear Dipsas coming, I dare not repine, lest she make me pine, and rock me into such a deep sleep, that I shall not awaked to my marriage.  Enter Dipsas. Dipsas 
How now, have you finished?  Bagoa 
Yea.  Dipsas 
Well then let us in, and see that you do not so much as whisper that I did this, for if you do, I will turn thy hairs to Adders, and all thy teeth in thy head to tongues, come away, come away.  Exeunt.   


Actus tertius. Scaena prima.  Cynthia, three Lords, Tellus. Cynth. 
IS the report true, that Endymion is stricken into such a dead sleep, that nothing can either wake him or move him?  Eum. 
Too true madam, and as much to be pitied as wondered at.  Tellus 
As good sleep and do no harm, as wake and do no good.  Cynth. 
What maketh you Tellus to be so short? the time was Endymion only was.  Eum. 
It is an old saying madam, that a waking dog doth afar off bark at a sleeping Lion.  Sem. 
It were good Eumenides that you took a nap with your friend for your speech beginneth to be heavy  Eum. 
Contrary to your nature Semele, which hath been always accounted light.  Cynth. 
What have we hear before my face, these unseemly and malapert overthwarts? I will tame your tongues, and your thoughts, and make your speeches answerable to your duties, and your conceits fit for my dignity, else will I banish you both my person and the world.  Eum. 
Pardon I humbly ask; but such is my unspotted faith to Endymion, that whatsoever seemeth a needle to prick his finger, is a dagger to wound my heart.  Cynth. 
If you be so dear to him, how happeneth it you neither go to see him, nor search for remedy for him?  Eum. 
I have seen him to my grief, and sought recure with despair, for that I cannot imagine who should restore, him that is the wonder to all men: your highness, on whose hands the compass of the earth is at command, (though not in possession) may show yourself both worthy your sex, your nature, and your favour, if you redeem that honourable Endymion, whose ripe years foretell rare virtues, and whose unmellowed conceits promise ripe counsel.  Cyn. 
I have had trial of Endymion, & conceive greater assurance of his age, than I could hope of his youth.  Tel. 
But timely Madam crooks that tree that will be a cammock, and young it pricks that will be a thorn, and therefore he that began without care to settle his life, it is a sign without amendment he will end it.  Cynth. 
Presumptuous girl, I will make thy tongue an example of unrecoverable displeasure, Corsites carry her to the Castle in the Desert, there to remain and weave.  Cors. 
Shall she work stories or poetries?  Cynthia 
It skilleth not which, go to, in both, for she shall find examples infinite in either, what punishment long tongues have. Eumenides, if either the Soothsayers in Egypt, or the Enchanters in Thessaly, or the Philosophers in Greece, or all the Sages of the world, can find remedy, I will procure it, therefore dispatch with all speed: you Eumenides into thessaly. You Zontes into Greece, (because you are acquainted in Athens.) You Panthon to Egypt, saying that Cynthia sendeth, and if you will, commandeth.  Eum. 
On bowed knee I give thanks, and with wings on my legs, I fly for remedy.  Zon. 
We are ready at your highness command, & hope to return to your full content.  Cyn. 
It shall never be said that Cynthia, whose mercy and goodness filleth the heavens with joys, & the world with marvels, will suffer either Endymion or any to perish, if he may be protected.  Eum. 
Your majesties words have been always deeds, and your deeds virtues.  Exeunt.  

Actus tertius. Scaena secunda.  Corsites, Tellus, Cors. 
Here is the Castle (fair Tellus) in which you must weave, till either time end your days, or Cinthia her displeasure. I am sorry so fair a face should be subject to so hard a fortune, and that the flower of beauty, which is honoured in Courts, should here wither in prison.  Tellus 
Corsites, Cynthia may restrain the liberty of my body, of my thoughts she cannot, and therefore do I esteem myself most free, though I am in greatest bondage.  Cors. 
Can you then feed on fancy, and subdue the malice of envy by the sweetness of imagination.  Tellus 
Corsites, there is no sweeter music to the miserable then despair, and therefore the more bitterness I feel, the more sweetness I find, for so vain were liberty, and so unwelcome the following of higher fortune, that I choose rather to pine in this Castle, than to be a Prince in any other Court.  Cors. 
A humour contrary to your years, and nothing agreeable to your sex: the one commonly allured with delights, the other always with sovereignty.  Tellus 
I marvel Corsites that you being a Captain, who should sound nothing but terror, and suck nothing but blood, can find in your heart to talk such smooth words, for that it agreeth not with your calling to use words so soft, as that of love.  Cors. 
Lady, it were unfit of wars to discourse with women, into whose minds nothing can sink but smoothness; beside, you must not think that Soldiers be so rough hewn, or of such knotty mettle, that beauty cannot allure, and you being beyond perfection enchant.  Tellus 
Good Corsites talk not of love, but let me to my labour: the little beauty I have, shall be bestowed on my Loom, which I now mean to make my Lover.  Cors. 
Let us in, and what favour Corsites can show, Tellus shall command.  Tellus 
The only favour I desire, is now and then to walk.  Exeunt.  

Actus tertius. Scaena tertia.  Sir Tophas, and Epi. Tophas 
Epi  Epi. 
Here sir.  Tophas 
unrig me. hay ho.  Epi. 
What's that?  Tophas 
An interjection, whereof some are of mourning: as eho, vah.  Epi. 
I understand you not.  Tophas 
Thou seest me.  Epi. 
I.  Tophas 
Thou hearst me.  Epi. 
I.  Tophas 
Thou feelest me.  Epi. 
I.  Tophas 
And not understandest me?  Epi. 
No.  Tophas 
Then am I but three quarters of a Noun substantive. But alas Epi, to tell thee the troth I am a Noun Adjective.  Epi. 
Why?  Tophas 
Because I cannot stand without another.  Epi. 
Who is that?  Tophas 
Dipsas.  Epi. 
Are you in love?  Top. 
No: but love hath as it were milked my thoughts, and drained from my heart the very substance of my accustomed courage; it worketh in my head like new Wine, so as I must hoop my sconce with iron, lest my head break, and so I bewray my brains: but I pray thee first discover me in all parts, that I may be like a Lover, and then will I sigh and die. Take my gun, and give me a gown: Caedant arma togae.  Epi. 
Here.  Tophas 
Take my sword and shield, and give me beard, brush, and Scissors: bella gerant alii tu pari semper ama.  Epi. 
Will you be trimmed sir?  Tophas 
Not yet: for I feel a contention within me, whether I shall frame the bodkin beard or the bush. But take my pike and give me pen: dicere que puduit, scribere jussit amor.  Epi. 
I will furnish you sir.  Tophas 
Now for my bow and bolts, give me ink and paper, for my Smiter a penknife: for Scalpellum calami, atramentum, charta libelli, sint semper studiis arma parata meis.  Epi. 
Sir will you give over wars, & play with that babble called love?  Tophas 
Give over wars? no Epi, Militat omnis amans, et habet sua castea Cupido.  Epi. 
Love hath made you very eloquent, but your face is nothing fair.  Tophas 
Non formosus erat, sed erat facundus Ulysses.  Epi. 
Nay I must seek a new Master if you can speak nothing but verses.  Tophas 
Quicquid conabar dicere versus erat. Epi, I feel all Ovid de art amandi lie as heavy at my heart as a load of logs. O what a fine thin hair hath Dipsas, what a pretty low forehead? What a tale & stately nose? What little hollow eyes? What great and goodly lips? how harmless she is being toothless, her fingers fat and short, adorned with long nails like a Bitter. In how sweet a proportion her cheeks hang down to her breasts like dugs, and her paps to her waste like bags. What a low stature she is, and yet what a great foot she carrieth? how thrifty must she be in whom there is no waste? How virtuous is she like to be, over whom no man can be jealous?  Epi. 
Stay Master, you forget yourself.  Tophas 
O Epi. even as a dish melteth by the fire, so doth my wit increase by love.  Epi. 
Pithily, and to the purpose, but what? begin you to nod.  Tophas 
Good Epi let me take a nap: for as some man may better steal a horse, then another look over the hedge: so divers shall be sleepy when they would feignest take rest.  He sleeps. Epi. 
whoever saw such a woodcock, love Dipsas? without doubt all the world will now account him valiant, that ventureth on her, whom none durst undertake. But here cometh two wags.  Enter Dares and Samias. Sam. 
Thy Master hath slept his share.  Dares 
I think he doth it because he would not pay me my board wages.  Samias 
It is a thing most strange, and I think mine will never return, so that we must both seek new Masters, for we shall never live by our manners.  Epi. 
If you want Masters, join with me and serve Sir Tophas, who must needs keep more men, because he is toward marriage.  Samias 
What Epi, where's thy Master?  Epi. 
Yonder sleeping in love.  Dares 
Is it possible?  Epi. 
He hath taken his thoughts a hole lower, and sayth, seeing it is the fashion of the world, he will vail bonnet to beauty.  Samias 
how is he attired?  Epi. 
Lovely.  Dares 
Whom loveth this amorous knight?  Epi. 
Dipsas.  Samias 
That ugly creature? Why she is a fool, a scold, fat, without fashion, and quite without favour.  Epi. 
Tush you be simple, my Ma. hath a good marriage.  Dares 
Good? as how?  Epi. 
Why in marrying Dipsas, he shall have every day twelve dishes of meat to his dinner, though there be none but Dipsas with him. four of flesh, four of fish, four of fruit.  Sam. 
As how Epi?  Epi. 
For flesh these, woodcock, goose, bitter, & rail.  Da. 
Indeed he shall not miss, if Dipsas be there.  Epi. 
For fish these, crab, carp, lump, and pouting.  Sam. 
Excellent, for of my word, she is both crabbish, lumpish, and carping.  Epi. 
For fruit these, fretters, meddlers, artichokes, and Lady longings. Thus you see he shall fare like a King, though he be but a beggar.  Dares 
Well Epi, dine thou with him, for I had rather fast than see her face. But see thy Ma. is asleep, let us have a song to wake this Amorous knight.  Epi. 
Agreed.  Sam. 
Content.  Song. Top. 
Sleep is a binding of the senses, love a losing.  Epi. 
Let us hear him awhile.  Tophas 
There appeared in my sleep a goodly Owl, who sitting upon my shoulder, cried twit, twit, & before mine eyes presented herself the express image of Dipsas. I marveled what the Owl said, till at the last, I perceived twit twit, to it, to it: only by contraction admonished by this vision, to make account of my sweet Venus.  Sam. 
Sir Tophas, you have overslept yourself.  Top. 
No youth, I have but slept over my love.  Dares 
Love? Why it is impossible, that into so noble and unconquered a courage, love should creep, having first a head as hard to pierce as steel, than to pass to a heart armed with a shirt of male.  Epi. 
ay but my Master yawning one day in the Sun, love crept into his mouth before he could close it, and there kept such a tumbling in his body, that he was glad to untruss the points of his heart, and entertain Love as a stranger.  Tophas 
If there remain any pity in you, plead for me to Dipsas.  Dares 
Plead? Nay we will press her to it. Let us go with him to Dipsas, and there shall we have good sport. But sir Tophas when shall we go? for I find my tongue voluble, and my heart venturous, and all myself like myself.  Samias 
Come Dares, let us not lose him till we find our Masters, for as long as he liveth, we shall lack neither mirth nor meat.  Epi. 
We will trauice. Will you go sir?  Tophas 
I praesequar.  Exeunt.  

Actus tertius, Scaena quarta.  Eumenides, Geron. Eumenides 
Father, your sad music being tuned on the same key that my hard fortune is, hath so melted my mind, that I wish to hang at your mouths end, tell my life end.  Geron 
These tunes Gentleman have I been accustomed with these fifty Winters, having no other house to shroud myself, but the broad heavens, and so familiar with me hath use made misery, that I esteem sorrow my chiefest solace. And welcomest is that guest to me, that can rehearse the saddest tale, or the bloodiest tragedy.  Eumenides 
A strange humour, might I inquire the cause?  Geron 
You must pardon me if I deny to tell it, for knowing that the revealing of griefs, is as it were a renewing of sorrow, I have vowed therefore to conceal them, that I might not only feel the depth of everlasting discontentment, but despair of remedy? But whence are you? What fortune hath thrust you to this distress?  Eumenides 
I am going to thessaly, to seek remedy for Endymion my dearest friend, who hath been cast into a dead sleep, almost these twenty years, waxing old, and ready for the grave, being almost but newly come forth of the cradle.  Geron 
You need not for recure travel far, for who so can clearly see the bottom of this Fountain, shall have remedy for any thing.  Eum. 
That methinketh is unpossible, why what virtue can there be in water?  Geron 
Yes, whosoever can shed the tears of a faithful Lover, shall obtain any thing he would, read these words engraven about the brim.  Eum. 
Have you known this by experience, or is it placed here of purpose to delude men?  Geron 
I only would have experience of it, and then should there be an end of my misery. And then would I tell the strangest discourse that ever yet was heard.  Eum 
Ah Eumenides.  Geron 
What lack you Gentleman, are you not well?  Eumenides 
Yes Father, but a qualm that often cometh over my heart doth now take hold of me, but did never any Lovers come hither?  Geron 
lustres, but not Lovers; for often have I seen them weep, but never could I hear they saw the bottom.  Eum. 
Came there women also?  Geron 
Some.  Eum 
What did they see?  Geron 
They all wept that the Fountain overflowed with tears, but so thick became the water with their tears, that I could scarce discern the brim, much less behold the bottom.  Eum 
Be faithful Lovers so scant?  Geron 
It seemeth so, for yet heard I never of any.  Eumenides 
Ah Eumenides, how art thou perplexed? call to mind the beauty of thy sweet Mistress, and the depth of thy never dying affections, how oft hast thou honoured her, not only without spot, but suspicion of falsehood? And how hardly hath she rewarded thee, without cause or colour of despite?  
how secret haste thou been these seven years, that hast not, nor once darest not, to name her for discontenting her? How faithful? that hast offered to die for her, to please her. Unhappy Eumenides.  Geron 
Why Gentleman did you once love?  Eumenides 
Once? I Father and ever shall.  Geron 
Was she unkind, and you faithful?  Eum. 
she of all women the most froward, and I of all creatures the most fond.  Geron 
You doted then, not loved: for affection is grounded on virtue, and virtue is never peevish: or on Beauty, and Beauty loveth to be praised.  Eum. 
ay but if all virtuous Ladies should yield to all that be loving, or all amiable gentlewomen entertain all that be amorous, their virtues would be accounted vices, and their beauty's deformities, for that love can be but between two, and that not proceeding of him that is most faithful, but most fortunate.  Geron 
I would you were so faithful, that your tears might make you fortunate.  Eu. 
Yea father, if that my tears clear not this fountain, then may you swear it is but a mere mockery.  Geron 
So saith every one yet, that wept.  Eum. 
Ah, I faint, I die. Ah sweet Semele let me alone, and dissolve by weeping into water.  Geron 
This affection seemeth strange, if he see nothing without doubt this dissembling passeth, for nothing shall draw me from the belief.  Eum. 
Father, I plainly see the bottom, and there in white marble engraven these words, Ask one for all, and but one thing at all.  Geron 
O fortunate Eumenides, (for so have I heard thee call thyself) let me see, I cannot discern any such thing. I think thou dreamest.  Eum. 
Ah Father thou art not a faithful lover, and therefore canst not behold it.  Geron 
Then ask that I may be satisfied by the event, and thyself blessed.  Eum. 
Ask? so I will: and what shall I do but ask, and whom should I ask but Semele, the possessing of whose person, is a pleasure that cannot come within the compass of comparison, whose golden locks seem most curious, when they seem most careless, whose sweet looks seem most alluring, when they are most chaste: and whose words the more virtuous they are, the more amorous they be accounted. I pray thee fortune when I shall first meet with fair Semele, dash my delight with some light disgrace, least embracing sweetness beyond measure, I take a surfeit without recure: let her practise her accustomed coyness, that I may diet my self upon my desires: otherwise the fullness of my joys will diminish the sweetness, and I shall perish by them before I possess them.  
Why do I trifle the time in words? The least minute being spent in the getting of Semele, is more worth than the whole world: therefore let me ask. What now Eumenides? Whether art thou drawn? Hast thou forgotten both friendship and duty? Care of Endymion, and the commandment of Cynthia? Shall he die in a leaden sleep, because thou sleepest in a golden dream? ay, let him sleep ever, so I slumber but one minute with Semele. Love knoweth neither friendship nor kindred.  
Shall I not hazard the loss of a friend, for the obtaining of her for whom I would often lose myself? Fond Eumenides, shall the enticing beauty of a most disdainful Lady, be of more force than the rare fidelity of a tried friend? The love of men to women is a thing common, and of course: the friendship of man to man infinite, and immortal. Tush, Semele doth possess my love. I but Endymion hath deserved it. I will help Endymion. I found Endymion unspotted in his truth. I but I shall find Semele constant in her love. I will have Semele. What shall I do? Father thy grey hairs are Ambassadors of experience. Which shall I ask?  Geron 
Eumenides, release Endymion, for all things (friendship excepted) are subject to fortune: Love is but an eye worm, which only tickleth the head with hopes, and wishes: friendship the image of eternity, in which there is nothing movable, nothing mischievous. As much difference as there is between Beauty and Virtue, bodies and shadows, colours and life: so great odds is there between love and friendship.  
Love is a Chameleon, which draweth nothing into the mouth but air, and nourisheth nothing in the body but lungs: believe me Eumenides, Desire dies in the same moment that Beauty sickens, and Beauty fadeth in the same instant that it flourisheth. When adversities flow, than love ebbs: but friendship standeth stiffly in storms. Time draweth wrinkles in a fair face, but addeth fresh colours to a fast friend, which neither heat, nor cold, nor misery, nor place, nor destiny, can alter or diminish. O friendship of all things the most rare, and therefore most rare because most excellent, whose comforts in misery is always sweet, and whose counsels in prosperity are ever fortunate. Vain love, that only coming near to friendship in name, would seem to be the same, or better, in nature.  Eum. 
Father I allow your reasons, and will therefore conquer mine own. Virtue shall subdue affections, wisdom lust, friendship beauty. Mistresses are in every place, and as common as Hares in Atho, Bees in Hybla, fowls in the air: but friends to be found, are like the Phoenix in Arabia, but one, or the Philadelphi in Arays, never above two. I will have Endymion, sacred Fountain, in whose bowels are hidden divine secrets, I have increased your waters with the tears of unspotted thoughts and therefore let me receive the reward you promise: Endymion, the truest friend to me, and faithfullest lover to Cynthia, is in such a dead sleep, that nothing can wake or move him.  Geron 
Dost thou see any thing?  Eumenides 
I see in the same Pillar, these words: When she whose figure of all is the perfectest, and never to be measured: always one, yet never the same: still inconstant, yet never wavering, shall come and kiss Endymion in his sleep, he shall then rise, else never. This is strange.  Geron 
What see you else?  Eum. 
There cometh over mine eyes either a dark mist, or upon the fountain a deep thickness: for I can perceive nothing. But how am I deluded? or what difficult (nay impossible) thing is this?  Geron 
methinketh it easy.  Eum. 
Good father and how?  Geron 
Is not a circle of all Figures the perfectest?  Eum. 
Yes.  Geron 
And is not Cynthia of all circles the most absolute?  Eum. 
Yes.  Geron 
Is it not impossible to measure her, who still worketh by her influence, never standing at one stay?  Eum. 
Yes.  Geron 
Is she not always Cynthia, yet seldom in the same bigness, always wavering in her waxing or waning, that our bodies might the better be governed, our seasons the dailier give their increase, yet never to be removed from her course, as long as the heavens continue theirs?  Eum. 
Yes.  Geron 
Then who can it be but Cynthia, whose virtues being all divine, must needs bring things to pass that be miraculous. Go, humble thyself to Cynthia, tell her the success, of which myself shall be a witness. And this assure thyself, that she that sent to find means for his safety, will now work her cunning.  Eum. 
How fortunate am I, if Cynthia be she that may do it.  Geron 
how fond art thou, if thou do not believe it?  Eum. 
I will hasten thither, that I may entreat on my knees for succour, and embrace in mine arms my friend.  Geron 
I will go with thee, for unto Cynthia must I discover all my sorrows, who also must work in me a contentment.  Eum. 
May I now know the cause?  Geron 
That shall be as we walk, and I doubt not but the strangeness of my tale will take away the tediousness of our journey.  Eum. 
Let us go.  Geron 
I follow.  Exeunt.   


Actus quartus. Scaena prima.  Tellus, Corsites. Tellus 
I Marvel Corsites giveth me so much liberty: all the world knowing his charge to be so high, and his nature to be most strange, who hath so ill entreated Ladies of great honour, that he hath not suffered them to look out of windows, much less to walk abroad: it may be he is in love with me, for (Endymion, hard hearted Endymion, excepted) what is he that is not enamoured of my beauty? But what respectest thou the love of all the world, Endymion hates thee. Alas poor Endymion, my malice hath exceeded my love: and thy faith to Cynthia, quenched my affections. Quenched Tellus? nay kindled them afresh; in so much that I find scorching flames, for dead embers, and cruel encounters of war in my thoughts, in steed of sweet parleys. Ah that I might once again see Endymion, accursed girl, what hope hast thou to see Endymion? on whose head already are grown grey hairs, and whose life must yield to Nature, before Cynthia end her displeasure. Wicked Dipsas, and most devilish Tellus, the one for cunning too exquisite, the other for hate too intolerable. Thou wast commanded to weave the stories & Poetries, wherein were showed both examples & punishments of tattling tongues, and thou hast only embroidered the sweet face of Endymion, devices of love, melancholy imaginations, and what not, out of thy work, that thou shouldst study to pick out of thy mind. But here cometh Corsites, I must seem yielding and stout, full of mildness, yet tempered with a Majesty: for if I be too flexible, I shall give him more hope than I mean, if too froward, enjoy less liberty than I would, love him I cannot, & therefore will practise that which is most contrary to our sex, to dissemble.  Enter Corsites. Cor. 
Fair Tellus, I perceive you rise with the Lark, and to yourself sing with the Nightingale.  Tellus 
My Lord I have no playfellow but fancy, being barred of all company I must question with myself, and make my thoughts my friends.  Cor. 
I would you would account my thoughts also your friends, for they be such as are only busied in wondering at your beauty, & wisdom: & some such as have esteemed your fortune too hard, and divers of that kind that offer to set you free, if you will set them free  Tellus 
There are no colours so contrary as white and black, nor Elements so disagreeing as fire and water, nor any thing so opposite as men's thoughts & their words.  Cor. 
He that gave Cassandra the gift of prophesying with the curse, that spoke she never so true, she should never be believed, hath I think poisoned the fortune of men, that uttering the extremities of their inward passions, are always suspected of outward perjuries.  Tellus 
Well Corsites I will flatter myself, and believe you. What would you do to enjoy my love?  Cor. 
Set all the Ladies of the Castle free, and make you the pleasure of my life: more I cannot do, less I will not.  Tellus 
These be great words, and fit your calling: for Captains must promise things impossible. But will you do one thing for all.  Cor. 
Any thing sweet Tellus, that am ready for all.  Tellus 
You know that on the Lunary bank sleepeth Endymion.  Corsites 
I know it.  Tel. 
If you will remove him from that place by force, and convey him into some obscure cave by policy, I give you here the faith of an unspotted virgin, that you only shall possess me as a lover, and in spite of malice, have me for a wife.  Cor. 
Remove him Tellus? Yes Tellus, he shall be removed, and that so soon, as thou shalt as much commend my diligence as my force. I go.  Tellus 
Stay, will yourself attempt it?  Corsites 
I Tellus: as I would have none partaker of my sweet love, so shall none be partners of my labours: but I pray thee go at your best leisure, for Cynthia beginneth to rise, and if she discover our love we both perish, for nothing pleaseth her but the fairness of virginity. All things must be not only without lust, but without suspicion of lightness.  Tellus 
I will depart, and go you to Endymion.  Corsites 
I fly Tellus, being of all men the most fortunate.  Exit. Tel. 
Simple Corsites, I have set thee about a task being but a man, that the gods themselves cannot perform: for little dost thou know how heavy his head lies, how hard his fortune: but such shifts must women have to deceive men, and under colour of things easy, entreat that which is impossible: otherwise we should be cumbered with importunities, oaths, sighs, letters, and all implements of love, which to one resolved to the contrary, are most loathsome. I will in and laugh with the other Ladies at Corsites sweating.  Exit.  

Actus quartus. Scaena secunda.  Samtas, Dares and Epiton. Sam. 
Will thy master never awake?  Dares 
No, I think he sleeps for a wager: but how shall we spend the time? Sir Tophas is so far in love that he pineth in his bed, and cometh not abroad?  Sam. 
But here cometh Epi, in a pelting chafe.  Epi. 
A pox of all false Proverbs, and were a Proverb a Page, I would have him by the ears.  Sam. 
Why art thou angry?  Epi. 
Why? you know it is said, the tide tarrieth no man.  Sam. 
True.  Epi. 
A monstrous lie; for I was tide two hours, and tarried for one to unlose me.  Dares 
Alas poor Epi.  Epi. 
Poor? No, no, you base conceited slaves, I am a most complete Gentleman, although I be in disgrace with sir Tophas.  Dares 
Art thou out with him.  Epi. 
ay, because I cannot get him a lodging with Endymion, he would fain take a nap for forty or fifty years.  Dares 
A short sleep, considering our long life.  Sam. 
Is he still in love?  Epi. 
In love? why he doth nothing but make Sonnets.  Sam. 
Canst thou remember any one of his Poems?  Epi. 
ay, this is one. The beggar Love that knows not where to lodge: At last within my heart when I slept, he crept, I waked, and so my fancies began to fadge.  Sam. 
That's a very long verse.  Epi. 
Why the other was short, the first is called from the thumb to the little finger, the second from the little finger to the elbow, and some he hath made to reach to the crown of his head, and down again to the soul of his foot: it is set to the tune of the black Saunce, ratio est, because Dipsas is a black Saint.  Dares 
Very wisely, but pray thee Epi how art thou complete, and being from thy Master what occupation wilt thou take?  Epi. 
No my hearts, I am an absolute Microcosmus, a petty world of myself, my library is my head, for I have no other books but my brains: my wardrobe on my back, for I have no more apparel than is on my body; my armory at my finger's ends, for I use no other Artillery than my nails; my treasure in my purse. Sic omnia mea mecum porto.  Dares 
Good.  Epi. 
Now sirs, my Palace is paved with grass, and tiled with stars: for celo tegitur qui non habet urnam, he that hath no house, must he in the yard.  Samias 
A brave resolution, But how wilt thou spend thy time?  Epi. 
Not in any Melancholy sort, for mine exercise I will walk horses.  Dares 
Too bad.  Epi. 
Why is it not said: It is good walking when one hath his horse in his hand?  Sam. 
Worse, and worse, but how wilt thou live?  Epi. 
By angling; O 'tis a stately occupation to stand four hours in a cold Morning, and to have his nose bitten with frost, before his bait be mumbled with a Fish.  Dares 
A rare attempt, but wilt thou never travel?  Epi. 
Yes in a Western barge, when with a good wind and lusty pugs, one may go ten miles in two days.  Samias 
Thou art excellent at thy choice, but what pastime wilt thou use, none?  Epi. 
Yes the quickest of all.  Samias 
What dice?  Epi. 
No, when I am in haste, xxj. games at Chess, to pass a few minutes.  Dares 
A life for a little Lord, and full of quickness.  Epi. 
Tush let me alone, but I must needs see if I can find where Endymion lieth, and then go to a certain fountain hard by, where they say faithful Lovers shall have allthings they will ask. If I can find out any of these, ego et Magister meus erimus in tuto, I and my Master shall be friends. He is resolved to weep some three or four pailfuls, to avoid the rheum of love that wambleth in his stomach.  Enter the Watch. Samias 
Shall we never see thy Master Dares?  Dares 
Yes, let us go now, for to morrow Cynthia will be there.  Epi. 
I will go with you. But how shall we see for the Watch?  Samias 
Tush let me alone, I'll begin to them. Masters God speed you.  1. Watch 
Sir boy, we are all sped already.  Epi. 
So methinks, for they smell all of drink, like a beggars beard.  Dares 
But I pray sirs, may we see Endymion?  2. Watch. 
No, we are commanded in Cynthia's name that no man shall see him.  Sam. 
No man? Why we are but boys.  1. Watch. 
Mass neighbours he says true, for if I swear I will never drink my liquour by the quart, and yet call for two pints, I think with a safe conscience I may carouse both.  Dares 
Pithily, and to the purpose.  2. Watch. 
Tush tush neighbours, take me with you.  Samias 
This will grow hot.  Dares 
Let them alone.  2. Watch. 
If I say to my wife, wife I will have no raisins in my pudding, she puts in currants, small raisins are raisins, and boys are men. even as my wife should have put no raisins in my pudding, so shall there no boys see Endymion.  Dares 
Learnedly.  Epi. 
Let Master Constable speak: I think he is the wisest among you.  Ma. Const. 
You know neighbours 'tis an an old said saw, children and fools speak true.  All say. 
True.  Ma. Const. 
Well, there you see the men be the fools, because it is provided from the children.  Dares 
Good.  Ma. Const. 
Then say I neighbours, that children must not see Endymion, because children & fools speak true.  Epi. 
O wicked application.  Samias 
Scurvily brought about.  1. Watch. 
Nay he says true, & therefore till Cynthia have been here he shall not be uncovered. Therefore away.  Dar. 
A watch quoth you? a man may watch 7. years for a wise word, & yet go without it. Their wits are all as rusty as their bills. But come on Ma. Const. shall we have a song before we go? Const. With all my heart.  Song. Exeunt.  

Actus quartus. Scaena tertia.  Corsites solus. Corsites 
I am come in sight of the Lunary bank, without doubt Tellus doteth upon me, and cunningly that I might not perceive her love, she hath set me to a task that is done before it is begun. Endymion, you must change your pillow, and if you be not weary of sleep, I will carry you where at ease you shall sleep your fill. It were good that without more ceremonies I took him, least being espied, I be entrapped, and so incur the displeasure of Cynthia, who commonly setteth watch that Endymion have no wrong.  He lifts. 
What now, is your Mastership so heavy? or are you nailed to the ground? Not stir one whit? then use all thy force though he feel it and wake. What stone still? turned I think to earth, with lying so long on the earth. Didst not thou Corsites before Cynthia pull up a tree, that forty years was fastened with roots and wreathed in knots to the ground? Didst not thou with main force pull open the iron Gates, which no Ram or Engine could move? Have my weak thoughts made brawn-fallen my strong arms? or is it the nature of love or the Quintessence of the mind to breed numbness, or litherness, or I know not what, languishing in my joints and sinews, being but the base strings of my body? Or doth the remembrance of Tellus so refine my spirits into a matter so subtle and divine, that the other fleshy parts cannot work whilst they muse? Rest thyself, rest thyself: nay rent thyself in pieces Corsites, and strive in spite of love, fortune and nature, to lift up this dulled body, heavier than dead, and more senseless than death.  Enter Fairies 
But what are these so fair fiends that cause my hairs to stand upright, and spirits to fall down? hags, out alas, Nymphs I crave pardon. ay me, out what do I here.  The Fairies dance, and with a song pinch him, and he falleth asleep, thy kiss Endymion, and depart. Cynthia, Floscula, Semele, Panelion, Zontes, Pythagoras, Gyptes, Corsites. Cynthia 
You see Pythagoras what ridiculous opinions you hold, and I doubt not but you are now of another mind.  Pytha. 
Madam, I plainly perceive that the perfection of your brightness, hath pierced through the thickness that covered my mind; in so much that I am no less glad to be reformed, then ashamed to remember my grossness.  Gyptes 
They are thrice fortunate that live in your Palace, where Truth is not in colours but life, virtues not in imagination, but execution.  Cynthia 
I have always studied to have rather living virtues then painted Gods, the body of Truth, than the tomb. But let us walk to Endymion, it may be it lieth in your Arts to deliver him, as for Eumenides, I fear he is dead.  Pytha. 
I have alleged all the natural reasons I can for such a long sleep.  Gyptes 
I can do nothing till I see him.  Cynthia 
Coin Floscula, I am sure you are glad that you shall behold Endymion.  Flosc. 
I were blessed if I might have him recovered.  Cynthia 
Are you in love with his person.  Flos. 
No, but with his virtue.  Cynthia 
What say you Semele?  Semele 
madam, I dare say nothing for fear I offend.  Cynthia 
Belike you cannot speak except you be spiteful. But as good be silent as saucy. Panelion, what punishment were fit for Semele, in whose speech and thoughts, is only contempt and sourness?  Pane. 
I love not Madam to give any judgement. Yet sith your highness commandeth, I think, to commit her tongue close prisoner to her mouth.  Cynthia 
Agreed; Semele, if thou speak this twelvemonth, thou shalt forfeit thy tongue. Behold Endymion, alas poor Gentleman, hast thou spent thy youth in sleep, that once vowed all to my service. Hollow eyes? grey hairs? wrinkled cheeks? and decayed limbs? Is it destiny, or deceit that hath brought this to pass? If the first, who could prevent thy wretched stars. If the latter, I would I might know thy cruel enemy. I favoured thee Endymion for thy honour, thy virtues, thy affections: but to bring thy thoughts within the compass of thy fortunes, I have seemed strange, that I might have thee stayed, and now are thy days ended before my favour begin. But whom have we here, is it not Corsites?  Zon. 
It is, but more like a Leopard than a man.  Cyn. 
Awake him. how now Corsites, what make you here? How came you deformed? Look on thy hands, and than thou seest the picture of thy face.  Corsites 
Miserable wretch, and accursed. How am I deluded? madam, I ask pardon for my offence, and you see my fortune deserveth pity.  Cynthia 
Speak on, thy offence cannot deserve greater punishment: but see thou rehearse the truth, else shalt thou not find me as thou wishest me.  Corsites 
Madam, as it is no offence to be in love being a man mortal, so I hope can it be no shame to tell with whom, my Lady being heavenly. Your Majesty committed to my charge fair Tellus, whose beauty in the same moment took my heart captive, that I undertook to carry her body prisoner. Since that time have I found such combats in my thoughts between love and duty, reverence and affection, that I could neither endure the conflict, nor hope for the conquest.  Cynthia 
In love? A thing far unfitting the name of a Captain, and (as I thought) the tough and unsmoothed nature of Corsites. But forth.  Corsites 
Feeling this continual war, I thought rather by parley to yield, then by certain danger to perish, I unfolded to Tellus the depth of my affections, and framed my tongue to utter a sweet tale of love, that was wont to sound nothing but threats of war. she too fair to be true, and too false for one so fair, after a nice denial, practised a notable deceit, commanding me to remove Endymion from this cabin, and carry him to some dark Cave, which I seeking to accomplish, found impossible. And so by Fairies or fiends have been thus handled.  Cynthia 
How say you my Lords, is not Tellus always practising of some deceits? In sooth Corsites thy face is now too foul for a Lover, and thine heart too fond for a Soldier. You may see when Warriors become wantonness, how their manners alter with their faces. Is it not a shame Corsites, that having lived so long in Mars his Camp, thou shouldest now be rocked in Venus' Cradle. Dost thou we are Cupid's Quiver at thy girdle, and make Lances of looks? Well Corsites rouse thyself, and be as thou hast been, and let Tellus who is made all of love, melt herself in her own looseness.  Corsites 
Madam I doubt not but to recover my former state, for tellus' beauty never wrought such love in my mind, as now her deceit hath despite, and yet to be revenged of a woman, were a thing than love itself more womanish.  Gyptes 
These spots Gentleman are to be worn out, if you rub them over with this lunary, so that in place where you received this main, you shall find a medicine.  Corsi. 
I thank you for that. The Gods bless me from love & these pretty Ladies that haunt this green.  Flos. 
Corsites, I would Tellus saw your amiable face.  Zontes 
How spitefully Semele laugheth, that dare not speak.  Cynthia 
Could you not stir Endymion with that doubled strength of yours?  Cors. 
Not so much as his finger with all my force.  Cyn. 
Pythagoras and Gyptes, what think you of Endymion? what reason is to be given, what remedy?  Pyth. 
madam it is impossible to yield reason for things that happen not in compass of nature. It is most certain, that some strange enchantment hath bound all his senses.  Cynthia 
What say you Gyptes.  Gyptes 
With Pythagoras, that it is enchantment, and that so strange that no Art can undo it, for that heaviness argueth a malice unremovable in the Enchantress, and that no power can end it, till she die that did it, or the heavens show some means more than miraculous.  Flos. 
O Endymion, could spite itself devise a mischief so monstrous as to make thee dead with life, and living being altogether dead? Where others number their years, their hours, their minutes, and step to age by stairs, thou only haste thy years and times in a cluster, being old before thou remember'st thou wast young.  Cynth. 
No more Floscula, pity doth him no good, I would any thing else might, and I vow by the unspotted honour of a Lady he should not miss it: but is this all Gyptes, that is to be done?  Giptes, 
All as yet. It may be that either the Enchantress shall die, or else be discovered, if either happen I will then practise the utmost of my art. In the mean season, about this Grove would I have a watch, and the first living thing that toucheth Endymion, to be taken.  Cynth. 
Corsites what say you, will you undertake this?  Corsites 
Good madam pardon me, I was overtaken too late, I should rather break into the midst of a main battle, then again fall into the hands of those fair babies.  Cynth. 
Well, I will provide others. Pythagoras and Gyptes, you shall yet remain in my Court, till I hear what may be done in this matter.  Pyth 
we attend.  Cynth. 
Let us go in.  Exeunt.   


Actus quintus. Scaena prima.  Samias, Dares. Samias 
Eumenides hath told such strange tales, as I may well wonder at them, but never believe them.  Dares 
The other old man, what a sad speech used he, that caused us almost all to weep. Cynthia is so desirous to know the experiment of her own virtue, and so willing to ease Endymion's hard fortune, that she no sooner heard the discourse, but she made herself in a readiness to try the event.  Sam. 
we will also see the event, but whist here cometh Cynthia, with all her train: Let us sneak in amongst them.  Enter Cynthia, Floscula, Semele, Panelion, etc. Cynth. 
Eumenides, it cannot sink into my head, that I should be signified by that sacred Fountain, for many things are there in the world, to which those words may be applied.  Eum. 
Good madam vouchsafe but to try, else shall I think myself most unhappy, that I asked not my sweet Mistress.  Cynth. 
Will you not yet tell me her name?  Eum. 
Pardon me good madam, for if Endymion awake he shall: myself have sworn, never to reveal it.  Cynth. 
Well, let us to Endymion. I will not be so stately (good Endymion) not to stoop to do thee good: and if thy liberty consist in a kiss from me, thou shalt have it. And although my mouth hath been here tofore as untouched as my thoughts, yet now to recover thy life, (though to restore thy youth it be impossible) I will do that to Endymion, which yet never mortal man could boast of heretofore, nor shall ever hope for hereafter.  she kisseth him. Eum. 
madam he beginneth to stir.  Cynth. 
Soft Eumenides, stand still.  Eum. 
Ah, I see his eyes almost open.  Cynth. 
I command thee once again stir not: I will stand behind him.  Pan 
What do I see, Endymion almost awake?  Eum. 
Endymion, Endymion, art thou deaf or dumb? or hath this long sleep taken away thy memory? Ah my sweet Eudimion, seest thou not Eumenides? thy faithful friend, thy faithful Eumenides, who for thy safety hath been careless of his own content. Speak Endymion, Endymion, Endymion.  End, 
Endymion? I call to mind such a name.  Eum. 
Hast thou forgotten thyself Endymion? then do I not marvel thou remember'st not thy friend. I tell thee thou art Endymion, and I Eumenides: behold also Cynthia, by whose favour thou art awaked, and by whose virtue thou shalt continue thy natural course.  Cynth. 
Endymion, speak sweet Endymion, knowest thou not Cynthia?  End. 
O heavens, whom do I behold, fair Cynthia, divine Cynthia?  Cynth. 
I am Cynthia, and thou Endymion.  End. 
Endymion, What do I here? What, a grey beard? hollow eyes? withered body: decayed limbs? and all in one night?  Eum. 
One night? thou hast here slept forty years, by what Enchantress as yet it is not known: and behold the twig to which thou laidst thy head, is now become a tree, callest thou not Eumenides to remembrance?  End. 
Thy name I do remember by the sound, but thy favour I do not yet call to mind, only divine Cynthia, to whom time, fortune, destiny, & death, are subject, I see and remember, and in all humility, I regard and reverence.  Cynth. 
You have good cause to remember Eumenides, who hath for thy safety forsaken his own solace.  End. 
Am I that Endymion, who was wont in Court to lead my life, and in Jousts, tourneys, and arms to exercise my youth? am I that Endymion?  Eum. 
Thou art that Endymion and I Eumenides, wilt thou not yet call me to remembrance?  End. 
Ah sweet Eumenides, I now perceive thou art he, and that myself have the name of Endymion, but that this should be my body I doubt: for how could my curled locks be turned to grey hairs, and my strong body to a dying weakness, having waxed old, and not knowing it.  Cynthia 
Well Endymion arise, a while sit down, for that thy limbs are stiff, and not able to stay thee, and tell what hast thou seen in thy sleep all this while? What dreams, visions, thoughts, and fortunes? For it is impossible, but in so long time, thou shouldest see things strange.  End. 
Fair Cynthia I will rehearse what I have seen, humbly desiring, that when I exceed in length, you give me warning, that I may end: for to utter all I have to speak would be troublesome, although happily the strangeness may somewhat abate the tediousness.  Cynth. 
Well Endymion begin.  End. 
methought I saw a Lady passing fair, but very mischievous, who in the one hand carried a knife, with which she offered to cut my throat: and in the other a looking-glass, wherein seeing how ill anger became Ladies, she refrained from intended violence. She was accompanied with other Damsels, one of which with a stern countenance, & as it were with a settled malice engraven in her eyes, provoked her to execute mischief: another with visage sad and constant only in sorrow, with her arms crossed, and watery eyes, seemed to lament my fortune, but durst not offer to prevent the force. I started in my sleep, feeling my very veins to swell, and my sinews to stretch with fear, and such a cold sweat bedewed all my body, that death itself could not be so terrible, as the vision.  Cynth. 
A strange sight. Gyptes at our better leisure shall expound it.  Eum. 
After long debating with herself, mercy overcame anger, and there appeared in her heavenly face such a divine Majesty, mingled with a sweet mildness, that I was ravished with the sight above measure, and wished that I might have enjoyed the sight without end, and so she departed with the other Ladies, of which the one retained still an unmovable cruelty, the other a constant pity.  Cynth. 
Poor Endymion, how wast thou affrighted? What else?  End. 
After her immediately appeared an aged man, with a beard as white as snow, crying in his hand a book with three leaves, & speaking as I remember these words. Endymion, receive this book with three leaves, in which are contained counsels, policies, and pictures, and with that he offered me the book, which I rejected: wherewith moved with a disdainful pity, he rent the first leaf in a thousand shivers, the second time he offered it, which I refused also: at which bending his brows, and pitching his eyes fast to the ground, as though they were fixed to the earth, and not again to be removed: then suddenly casting them up to the heavens, he tore in a rage the second leaf, and offered the book only with one leaf. I know not whether fear to offend, or desire to know some strange thing, moved me: I took the book, and so the old man vanished.  Cynthia 
What didst thou imagine was in the last leaf?  End. 
There I portrayed to life, with a cold quaking in every joint. I beheld many wolves barking at thee Cynthia, who having ground their teeth to bite, did with striving bleed themselves to death. There might I see ingratitude with an hundred eyes, gazing for benefits, and with a thousand teeth, gnawing on the bowels wherein she was bred. Treachery stood all clothed in white, with a smile countenance, but both her hands bathed in blood. Envy with a pale and meager face, (whose body was so lean, that one might tell all her bones, and whose garment was so tottered, that it was easy to number every thread) stood shooting at stars, whose darts fell down again on her own face. There might I behold Drones, or Beetles, I know not how to term them creeping under the wings of a princely Eagle, who being carried into her nest, sought there to suck that vein, that would have killed the Eagle. I mused that things so base, should attempt a fact so barbarous, or durst imagine a thing so bloody. And many other things madam, the repetition whereof, may at your better leisure seem more pleasing: for. Bees surfeit sometimes with honey, and the Gods are glutted with harmony, and your highness may be dulled with delight.  Cynth. 
I am content to be dieted, therefore let us in. Eumenides, see that Endymion be well tended, lest either eating immoderately, or sleeping again too long, he fall into a deadly surfeit, or into his former sleep.  
See this also be proclaimed, that whosoever will discover this practice, shall have of Cynthia infinite thanks, and no small rewards.  Exit. Flosc. 
Ah Endymion, none so joyful as Floscula, of thy restoring.  Eum. 
Yes Floscula, let Eumenides be somewhat gladder, and do not that wrong to the settled friendship of a man, as to compare it with the light affection of a woman. Ah my dear friend Endymion suffer me to die, with gazing at thee.  End. 
Eumenides, thy friendship is immortal, and not to be conceived, and thy good will Floscula, better than I have deserved. But let us all wait on Cynthia: I marvel Semele speaketh not a word.  Eum. 
Because if she do, she loseth her tongue.  End. 
But how prospereth your love?  Eum. 
I never yet spoke word since your sleep.  End. 
I doubt not but your affection is old, and your appetite cold.  Eum. 
No Endymion, thine hath made it stronger, and now are my sparks grown to flames, and my fancies almost to frenzies: but let us follow, and within we will debate all this matter at large.  Exeunt.  

Actus quintus. Scaena secunda.  Sir Tophas, Epiton. Tophas 
Epi, love hath justled my liberty from the wall, and taken the upper hand of my reason.  Epi. 
Let me then trip up the heels of your affection, and thrust your goodwill into the gutter.  Tophas 
No Epi, Love is a Lord of misrule, and keepeth Christmas in my corpse.  Epi. 
No doubt there is good cheer: what dishes of delight doth his Lordship feast you withal?  Tophas 
First, with a great platter of plum-porridge of pleasure, wherein is stewed the mutton of mistrust.  Epi. 
Excellent love lap.  Tophas 
Then cometh a Pie of patience, a Hen of honey, a Goose of gall, a Capon of care, and many other Viands, some sweet, and some sour, which proveth love to be as it was said of, in old years. Dulce venenum.  Epi. 
A brave banquet.  Tophas 
But Epi. I pray thee feel on my chin, some thing pricketh me. What dost thou feel or see.  Epi. 
There are three or four little hairs.  Tophas 
I pray thee call it my beard, how shall I be troubled, when this young spring shall grow to a great wood?  Epi. 
O sir your chin is but a quiller yet, you will be most majestical when it is full fledge. But I marvel that you love Dipsas that old Crone.  Tophas 
Agnosco veteris vestigia flammae, I love the smoke of an old fire.  Epi. 
Why she is so cold, that no fire can thaw her thoughts.  Tophas 
It is an old goose Epi, that will eat no oats, old Kine will kick, old Rats gnaw cheese, and old sacks will have much patching. I prefer an old coney before a rabbit sucker, and an ancient hen before a young chicken peeper.  Epi. 
Argumentum ab antiquitate, My master loveth antic work.  Tophas 
Give me a pippin that is withered like an old wife.  Epi. 
Good sir.  Tophas 
Then, a contrario sequitur argumentum. Give me a wife that looks like an old pippin.  Epi. 
Nothing hath made my master a fool, but flat Scholarship.  Tophas 
Knowest thou not that old wine is best?  Epi. 
Yes.  Tophas 
And thou knowest that like will to like?  Epi. 
I.  Tophas 
And thou knowest that Venus loved the best Wine.  Epi. 
So.  Tophas 
Then I conclude, that Venus was an old woman in an old cup of wine. For, est Venus in vinis, ignis in igne fuit.  Epi. 
O lepidum caput, O mad cap master. You were worthy to win Dipsas, were she as old again, for in your love, you have worn the nap of your wit quite off, and made it threadbare. But soft who comes here?  Tophas 
My solicitors.  Sam. 
All hail sir Tophas, how feel you yourself?  Tophas 
Stately in every joint, which the common people term stiffness. Doth Dipsas stoop? will she yield? will she bend?  Dares 
O sir as much as you would wish, for her chin almost toucheth her knees.  Epi. 
Master, she is bent I warrant you.  Tophas 
What conditions doth she ask?  Samias 
She hath vowed she will never love any that hath not a tooth in his head less than she.  Tophas 
How many hath she?  Dares 
One.  Epi. 
That goeth hard Master, for then you must have none.  Tophas 
A small request, and agreeable to the gravity of her years. What should a wise man do with his mouth full of bones like a channel house. The Turtle true hath near a tooth.  Samias 
Thy Master is in a notable vain, that will lose his teeth to be like a Turtle.  Epi. 
Let him lose his tongue to, I care not.  Dares 
Nay you must also have no nails, for she long since hath cast hers.  Tophas 
That I yield to, what a quiet life shall Dipsas and I lead, when we can neither bite nor scratch? You may see youths, how age provides for peace.  Samias 
How shall we do to make him leave his love, for we never spoke to her?  Dares 
Let me alone. she is a notable Witch, and hath turned her maid Bagoa to an Aspen tree, for bewraying her secrets.  Top. 
I honour her for her cunning, for now when I am weary of walking on two legs, what a pleasure may she do me to turn me to some goodly Ass, and help me to four.  Dares 
Nay then I must tell you the troth, her husband Geron is come home, who this fifty years hath had her to wife.  Tophas 
What do I hear? Hath she an husband? Go to the sixteen, and tell him desire is dead, and will him to dig his grave. O heavens, an husband? What death is agreeable to my fortune?  Samias 
Be not desperate, and we will help you to find a young Lady,  Tophas 
I love no grissels they are so brittle, they will crack like glass, or so dainty, that if they be touched, they are straight of the fashion of wax: Animus maioribus instat. I desire old Matrons. What a sight would it be to embrace one whose hair were as orient as the pearl? whose teeth shall be so pure a watchet, that they shall stain the truest Turquis? whose nose shall throw more beams from it then the fiery Carbuncle? whose eyes shall be environed about with redness, exceeding the deepest Coral? And whose lips might compare with silver for the paleness? Such a one if you can help me to, I will by piece-meal curtal my affections towards Dipsas, and walk my swelling thoughts till they be cold.  Epi. 
Wisely provided. How say you my friends, will you angle for my masters cause?  Samias 
Most willingly.  Dares 
If we speed him not shortly, I will burn my cap, we will serve him of the spades, and dig an old wife out of the grave, that shall be answerable to his gravity.  Tophas 
Youths adieu; he that bringeth me first news, shall possess mine inheritance.  Dares 
What, is thy Master landed?  Epi. 
Know you not that my Master is Libre tenens? Samias What's that?  Epi. 
A Freeholder. But I will after him.  Samias 
And we to hear what news of Endymion for the conclusion.  Exeunt.  

Actus quintus. Scaena tertia.  Panelion, Zontes. Pane. 
Who would have thought that Tellus being so fair by nature, so honourable by birth, so wise by education, would have entered into a mischief to the Gods so odious, to men so detestable, and to her friend so malicious.  Zontes 
If Bagoa had not bewrayed it, how then should it have come to light? But we see that Gold and fair words, are of force to corrupt the strongest men; And therefore able to work silly women like wax.  Panelion. 
I marvel what Cynthia will determine in this cause.  Zontes 
I fear as in all causes, hear of it in justice, and then judge of it in mercy; for how can it be that she that is unwilling to punish her deadliest foes with disgrace, will revenge injuries of her train with death.  Panelion 
That old witch Dipsas in a rage, having understood her practise to be discovered, turned poor Bagoa to an Aspen tree, but let us make haste and bring Tellus before Cynthia, for she was coming out after us.  Zontes 
Let us go.  Exeunt. Cynthia, Semele, Floscula, Dipsas, Endymion, Eumenides. Cynthia 
Dipsas, thy years are not so many as thy vices, yet more in number then commonly nature doth afford, or justice should permit. Hast thou almost these fifty years practised that detested wickedness of witchcraft? Wast thou so simple, as for to know the nature of Simples, of all creatures to be most sinful?  
Thou hast threatened to turn my course awry, and alter by thy damnable Art, the government that I now possess by the eternal Gods. But know thou Dipsas, and let all the Enchanters know, that Cynthia being placed for light on earth, is also protected by the powers of heaven. Breath out thou mayst words, gather thou mayst herbs, find out thou mayst stones agreeable to thine Art, yet of no force to appall my heart, in which courage is so rooted, and constant persuasion of the mercy of the Gods so grounded, that all thy witchcraft I esteem as weak, as the world doth thy case wretched.  
This noble Gentleman Geron, once thy husband, but now thy mortal hate, didst thou procure to live in a Desert, almost desperate. Endymion the flower of my Court, and the hope of succeeding time, hast thou bewitched by Art, before thou wouldest suffer him to flourish by nature.  Dipsas 
Madam, things past may be repented, not recalled: there is nothing so wicked that I have not done, nor any thing so wished for as death. Yet among all the things that I committed, there is nothing so much tormenteth my rented and ransacked thoughts, as that in the prime of my husband's youth, I divorced him by my devilish Art, for which, if to die might be amends, I would not live till to morrow. If to live and still be more miserable would better content him, I would wish of all creatures to be oldest and ugliest.  Geron 
Dipsas, Thou hast made this difference between me and Endymion, that being both young, thou hast caused me to wake in melancholy, losing the joys of my youth, and him to sleep, not remembering youth.  Cynthia 
Stay, here cometh Tellus, we shall now know all.  Enter Corsites, Tellus, Panelion. etc. Corsites 
I would to Cynthia thou couldst make as good an excuse in truth, as to me thou hast done by wit.  Tellus 
Truth shall be mine answer, and therefore I will not study for an excuse.  Cynthia 
Is it possible Tellus, that so few years should harbour so many mischiefs? Thy swelling pride have I borne, because it is a thing that beauty maketh blameless, which the more it exceedeth fairness in measure, the more it stretcheth itself in disdain. Thy devices against Corsites I smile at, for that wits the sharper they are, the shrewder they are. But this unacquainted and most unnatural practice with a vile Enchantress, against so noble a Gentleman as Endymion, I abhor, as a thing most malicious, and will revenge, as a deed most monstrous.  
And as for you Dipsas, I will send you into the Desert amongst wild beasts, and try whether you can cast lions, tigers, Boars, and Bears, into as dead asleep as you did Endymion, or turn them to trees, as you have done Bagoa. But tell me Tellus, what was the cause of this cruel part, far unfitting thy sex, in which nothing should be but simpleness: and much disagreeing from thy face, in which nothing seemed to be but softness.  Tellus 
Divine Cynthia, by whom I receive my life, and am content to end it. I can neither excuse my fault without lying, nor confess it without shame; Yet were it possible that in so heavenly thoughts as yours, there could fall such earthly motions as mine, I would then hope, if not to be pardoned without extreme punishment, yet to be heard without great marvel.  Cynthia 
Say on Tellus, I cannot imagine any thing that can colour such a cruelty.  Tellus 
Endymion, that Endymion in the prime of his youth, so ravished my heart with love, that to obtain my desires, I could not find means, nor to recite them reason.  
What was she that favoured not Endymion, being young, wise, honourable, and virtuous; beside, what metal was she made of (be she mortal) that is not affected with the spice, nay infected with the poison of that (not to be expressed, yet always to be felt) Love? which breaketh the brains, and never bruiseth the brow: consumeth the heart, and never toucheth the skin: and maketh a deep scar to be seen, before any wound at all be felt. My heart too tender to withstand such a divine fury, yielded to Love. madam I not without blushing confess, yielded to Love.  Cynthia 
A strange effect of love, to work such an extreme hate. How say you Endymion, all this was for love?  End. 
I say Madam then the Gods send me a woman's hate.  Cynthia 
That were as bad, for then by contrary you should never sleep. But on Tellus, let us hear the end.  Tellus 
Feeling a continual burning in all my bowels, and a bursting almost in every vain, I could not smother the inward fire, but it must needs be perceived by the outward smoke, and by the flying abroad of divers sparks, divers judged of my scalding flames.  
Endymion as full of art as wit, marking mine eyes, (in which he might see almost his own,) my sighs, by which he might ever hear his name sounded, aimed at my heart, in which he was assured his person was imprinted, and by questions wrung out that, which was ready to burst out. When he saw the depth of my affections, he swore, that mine in respect of his, were as fumes to Aetna, valleys to Alps, Ants to Eagles, and nothing could be compared to my beauty but his love, and eternity. Thus drawing a smooth shoe upon a crooked foot, he made me believe, that (which all of our sex willingly acknowledge) I was beautiful. And to wonder, (which indeed is a thing miraculous) that any of his sex should be faithful.  Cynthia 
Endymion, how will you clear yourself?  End. 
Madam, by mine own accuser.  Cynthia 
Well Tellus proceed, but briefly, least taking delight in uttering thy love, thou offend us with the length of it.  Tellus 
I will madam quickly make an end of my love & my tale. Finding continual increase of my tormenting thoughts, and that the enjoying of my love, made deeper wounds then the entering into it. I could find no means to ease my grief, but to follow Endymion, and continually to have him in the object of mine eyes, who had me slave and subject to his love.  
But in the moment that I feared his falsehood, and fried myself most in mine affections, I found, (ah grief, even than I lost myself.) I found him in most melancholy and desperate terms, cursing his stars, his state, the earth, the heavens, the world, and all for the love of  Cynthia 
Of whom? Tellus speak boldly.  Tellus 
madam, I dare not utter for fear to offend.  Cynthia 
Speak I say; who dare take offence, if thou be commanded by Cynthia?  Tellus 
For the love of Cynthia.  Cynthia 
For my love Tellus, that were strange. Endymion is it true?  End. 
In all things madam. Tellus doth not speak false.  Cynthia 
What will this breed to in the end? Well Endymion, we shall hear all.  Tellus 
I seeing my hopes turned to mishaps, and a settled dissembling towards me, and an unmovable desire to Cynthia, forgetting both myself and my sex; fell unto this unnatural hate; for knowing your virtues Cynthia to be immortal, I could not have an imagination to withdraw him. And finding mine own affections unquenchable, I could not carry the mind that any else should possess what I had pursued. For though in majesty, beauty, virtue, and dignity, I always humbled and yielded myself to Cynthia, yet in affections, I esteemed myself equal with the Goddesses, & all other creatures according to their states with myself. For stars to their bigness have their lights, and the sun hath no more. And little pitchers when they can hold no more, are as full as great vessels that run over. Thus Madam in all truth, have I uttered the unhappiness of my love, and the cause of my hate, yielding wholly to that divine judgement which never erred for want of wisdom, or envied for too much partiality.  Cynthia 
How say you my Lords to this matter? But what say you Endymion, hath Tellus told troth?  End. 
madam in all things, but in that she said I loved her, and swore to honour her.  Cynthia 
Was there such a time whenas for my love thou didst vow thyself to death, and in respect of it loathed thy life? speak Endymion, I will not revenge it with hate.  End. 
The time was Madam and is, and ever shall be that I honoured your highness above all the world, but to stretch it so far as to call it love, I never durst. There hath none pleased mine eye but Cynthia, none delighted mine ears but Cynthia, none possessed my heart but Cynthia. I have forsaken all other fortunes to follow Cynthia, and here I stand ready to die if it please Cynthia. Such a difference hath the Gods set between our states, that all must be duty, loyalty, and reverence, nothing (without it vouchsafe your highness) be termed love. My unspotted thoughts, my languishing body, my discontented life, let them obtain by princely favour that, which to challenge they must not presume, only wishing of impossibilities: with imagination of which, I will spend my spirits, and to myself that no creature may hear, softly call it love. And if any urge to utter what I whisper, then will I name it honour. From this sweet contemplation if I be not driven, I shall live of all men the most content, taking more pleasure in mine aged thoughts, then ever I did in my youthful actions.  Cyn. 
Endymion, this honourable respect of thine, shallbe christened love in thee, & my reward for it favour. Persever Endymion in loving me, & I account more strength in a true heart, then in a walled City. I have laboured to win all, and study to keep such as I have won, but those that neither my favour can move to continue constant, nor my offered benefits get to be faithful, the Gods shall either reduce to truth, or revenge their treacheries with justice. Endymion continue as thou hast begun, and thou shalt find that Cynthia shineth not on thee in vain.  End. 
Your Highness hath blessed me, and your words have again restored my youth: methinks I feel my joints strong, and these mouldy hairs to moult, & all by your virtue Cynthia, into whose hands the Balance that weigheth time & fortune, are committed.  Cynth. 
What young again? than it is pity to punish Tellus.  Tellus 
Ah Endymion, now I know thee and ask pardon of thee: suffer me still to wish thee well.  End. 
Tellus, Cynthia must command what she will.  Flosc. 
Endymion, I rejoice to see thee in thy former estate.  End. 
Good Floscula, to thee also am I in my former affections.  Eum. 
Endymion, the comfort of my life, how am I ravished with a joy matchless, saving only the enjoying of my mistress.  Cynth. 
Endymion, you must now tell who Eumenides shrineth for his Saint.  End. 
Semele madam.  Cynth. 
Semele Eumenides? is it Semele? the very wasp of all women, whose tongue stingeth as much as an adder's tooth?  Eum. 
It is Semele, Cynthia: the possessing of whose love, must only prolong my life.  Cynth. 
Nay sith Endymion is restored, we will have all parties pleased. Semele, are you content after so long trial of his faith, such rare secrecy, such unspotted love, to take Eumenides? Why speak you not? Not a word?  End. 
Silence madam consents: that is most true.  Cynth. 
It is true Endymion. Eumenides, take Semele. Take her I say.  Eum. 
Humble thanks madam, now only do I begin to live.  Semele 
A hard choice madam, either to be married if I say nothing, or to lose my tongue if I speak a word. Yet do I rather choose to have my tongue cut out, than my heart distempered: I will not have him.  Cynth. 
Speaks the parrot? she shall nod hereafter with signs: cut off her tongue, nay her head, that having a servant of honourable birth, honest manners, 〈◊〉 true love, will not be persuaded.  Semele 
He is no faithful I 〈…〉 or then would he have asked his Mistress.  Geron 
Had he not been faithful, he had never seen into the fountain, and so lost his friend and Mistress.  Eum. 
Thine own thoughts sweet Semele, witness against thy words, for what hast thou found in my life but love? and as yet, what have I found in my love but bitterness? madam pardon Semele, and let my tongue ransom hers.  Cyn. 
Thy tongue Eumenides? what shouldst thou live wanting a tongue to blaze the beauty of Semele. Well Semele, I will not command love, for it cannot be enforced: let me entreat it.  Semele 
I am content your Highness shall command, for now only do I think Eumenides faithful, that is willing to lose his tongue for my sake: yet loath, because it should do me better service. madam, I accept of Eumenides.  Cynth. 
I thank you Semele.  Eu. 
Ah happy Eumenides, that hast a friend so faithful, and a mistress so fair: with what sudden mischief will the Gods daunt this excess of joy? Sweet Semele, I live or die as thou wilt.  Cynth. 
What shall become of Tellus? Tellus you know Endymion is vowed to a service, from which death cannot remove him. Corsites casteth still a lovely looks towards you, how say you will have your Corsites, and so receive pardon for all that is past?  Tellus 
madam most willingly.  Cynthia 
But I cannot tell whether Corsites, be agreed.  Corsites 
I Madame more happy to enjoy Tellus then the Monarchy of the world.  Eum. 
Why she caused you to be pinched with Fairies.  Cor. 
ay but her fairness hath pinched my heart more deeply.  Cynthia 
Well enjoy thy love. But what have you wrought in the Castle Tellus?  Tellus 
Only the picture of Endymion.  Cynthia 
Then so much of Endymion as his picture cometh to, possess and play withal.  Corsites 
Ah my sweet Tellus, my love shall be as thy beauty is, matchless.  Cynthia 
Now it resteth Dipsas, that if thou wilt forswear that vile Art of Enchanting, Geron hath promised again to receive thee, otherwise if thou be wedded to that wickedness, I must and will see it punished to the uttermost.  Dipsas 
Madam, I renounce both substance and shadow of that most horrible and hateful trade, vowing to the God's continual penance, and to your highness obedience.  Cynthia 
how say you Geron, will you admit her to your Wife?  Geron 
I with more joy than I did the first day: for nothing could happen to make me happy, but only her forsaking that lewd and detestable course. Dipsas I embrace thee.  Dipsas 
And I thee Geron, to whom I will hereafter recite the cause of these my first follies.  Cynthia 
Well Endymion, nothing resteth now but that we depart. Thou hast my favour, Tellus her friend, Eumenides in Paradise with his Semele, Geron contented with Dipsas.  Sir Tophas 
Nay soft, I cannot handsomely go to bed without Bagoa.  Cynthia 
Well Sir. Tophas, it may be there are more virtues in me than myself knoweth of, for Endymion I awaked, and at my words he waxed young, I will try whether I can turn this tree again to thy true love.  Tophas 
Turn her to a true love or false, so she be a wench I care not.  Cynthia 
Bagoa, Cynthia putteth an end to thy hard fortunes, for being turned to a tree for revealing a truth, I will recover thee again, if in my power be the effect of truth.  Tophas 
Bagoa? a bot's upon thee.  Cynthia 
Come my Lords let us in, you Gyptes and Pythagoras, if you cannot content yourselves in our Court, to fall from vain follies of Philosophers, to such virtues as are here practised, you shall be entertained according to your deserts, for Cynthia is no stepmother to strangers.  Pytha. 
I had rather in Cynthia's Court spend ten years, then in Greece one hour.  Gyptes 
And I choose rather to live by the sight of Cynthia, then by the possessing of all Egypt.  Cynthia 
Then follow.  Eumenides 
We all attend.  Exeunt. 
FINIS.    

❧ The Epilogue.  
A Man walking abroad, the wind and Sun strove for sovereignty, the one with his blast, the other with his beams. The wind blew hard, the man wrapped his garment about him harder: it blustered more strongly, he then girt it fast to him: I cannot prevail said the wind. The Sun casting her Crystal beams, began to warm the man: he unloosed his gown. yet it shined brighter: he then put it off. I yield said the wind, for if thou continue shining, he will also put off his coat.  
Dread Sovereign, the malicious that seek to overthrow us with threats, do but stiffen our thoughts, and make them sturdier in storms: but if your Highness vouch safe with your favourable beams to glance upon us, we shall not only stoop, but with all humility, lay both our hands and hearts, at your majesties feet.