PSYCHE: A TRAGEDY, Acted at the Duke's Theatre. Written by THO. SHADWELL.  
LONDON, Printed by T. N. for Henry Herringman, at the Anchor in the lower Walk of the New Exchange. 1675.   

To the most Illustrious Prince, JAMES Duke of MONMOUTH, etc.  
May it please Your Grace,  
YOur Grace has so Nobly Patronised this Undertaking, that I should rob you of your due, if I should not humbly lay this Play at your feet, since by your great and generous encouragement of it, you have made that and the Author eternally your own. But had I never received any Obligation, by my particular Inclination I am bound to your Grace, since I am the most humble admirer of your Heroic Virtues, who by your early and unimitable Example, and by your eminent Command, are the greatest Patron of Arms; and by your Government of the most famous of Universities, are become the greatest Protector of Arts: of that University, which I can never mention without reverence; and from which I have yet another Tie to your Grace, since I had once the honour to be a Member of that Illustrious Society, which though it be the most Learned in the World, can boast of no greater Honour than that of being commanded by so Excellent a Prince; one who is equally Valiant against his Enemies, and Courteous to his Friends; whose boundless Courage is always ready to vanquish the one, and whose Princely Generosity is always ready to oblige the other.  
I shall not here recite those Heroic Actions, which all Europe have celebrated, and none have equalled: Those are too Great for an Epistle Dedicatory, and only fit for solid, lasting History; which certainly must do your Grace that right, to Enrol you in the foremost Rank of Fame. Nor can we doubt, but the memory of your Grace's Actions will last, when Time shall have devoured the Places where they were performed: When Mastrick shall be a heap of Rubbish, and the name might otherwise be swallowed in the Ruin, it will be remembered by the greatest Action in the World, done there by the Greatest and the Earliest Hero, and by one, who for all his fierceness of Courage, has yet that Gentleness to Mankind, that he thinks that day lost, in which he does not oblige. One who is not only infinitely blessed in the most excellent Partner of his Joys and Cares, happy above measure in the Goods of Mind, the Perfections of Body, and the greatest Splendour and Ornaments of Fortune, but he enjoys all these unenvied; nay, is not only free from every man's envy, but has his love.  
I should be afraid of this boldness, in once mentioning things so much above my Pen, were I not assured of your Grace's Generosity, that inclines you to pardon, even a well-intended Error, in your humble Creature, who begs Protection from you, and needs it too.  
I have, by my misfortune, not my fault, met with some Enemies, who are always ready to do me the irreparable injury, to blast my Reputation with the King; and when I have the Honour to please Him, (which is of all things in the world my greatest Ambition) endeavour to persuade him, that I do not write the Plays I own, or at least, that the best part of them are written for me; which is so malicious an aspersion, that I am sure they themselves believe it not, and they may as well accuse me of firing the City. I am sure (though I may want Wit to write a Play) I have more honesty then to own what another man writes. But I am not yet so poor as to borrow; if I should, I should find not many that are rich enough to lend, Wit being much a scarcer Commodity than Money, I am sure with some who have reported this of me; who what ever they have of of one, have scarce enough of the other to supply their own necessities; and therefore I should be but very slenderly furnished from them.  
I can never enough acknowledge the Honour done me by your incomparable Durchess, in endeavouring to clear me of this Aspersion: And who would not be proud of being aspersed, to be so vindicated? From this and some other injuries of my Enemies, I humbly beg your Grace's protection, who, I am sure, have Goodness and Greatness enough to defend me against them: And I had rather owe it to your Grace, then to any man: For no man is more than I,  
My Lord, Your Grace's Most devoted humble Servant, THO. SHADWELL:   

PREFACE.  
IN a good Natured Country, I doubt not but this my first Essay in Rhyme would be at least forgiven; especially when I promise to offend no more in this kind: But I am sensible, that here I must encounter a great many Difficulties. In the first place (though I expect more candour from the best Writers in Rhyme) the more moderate of them (who have yet a numerous party, good Judges being very scarce) are very much offended with me, for leaving my own Province of Comedy, to invade their Dominion of Rhyme: But methinks they might be satisfied, since I have made but a small incursion, and am resolved to retire. And were I never so powerful, they should escape me, as the Northern People did the Romans, their craggy barren Territories being not wo●… the Conquering. The next sort I am to encounter with, are those who are too great Admirers of the French Wit, who (if they a●… not like this Play) will say, the French Psyche is much better; if they do, they will say, I have borrowed it all from the French. Whether the French be better, I leave to the Men of Wit (who understand both Languages) to determine; I will only say, Here is more Variety, and the Scenes of Passion are wrought up with more Art; and this is much more a Play then that. And I will be bold to affirm that this is as much a Play, as could be made upon this Subject. That I have borrowed it all from the French, can only be the objection of those, who do not know that it is a Fable, written by Apulejius, in his Golden Ass; where you will find most things in this Play, and the French too. For several things concerning the Decoration of the Play, I am obliged to the French, and for the Design of Two of the only moving Scenes in the French, which I may say, without vanity, are very much improved, being wrought up with more Art in this, then in the French Play, without borrowing any of the thoughts from them.  
In a thing written in five weeks, as this was, there must needs be many Errors, which I desire true Critics to pass by; and which perhaps I see myself, but having much business, and indulging myself with some pleasure too, I have not had leisure to mend them, nor would it indeed be worth the pains, since there are so many splendid Objects in the Play, and such variety of Diversion, as will not give the Audience leave to mind the Writing; and I doubt not but the Candid Reader will forgive the faults, when he considers, that the great Design was to entertain the Town with variety of Music, curious Dancing, splendid Scenes and Machine's: And that I do not, nor ever did intend to value myself upon the writing of this Play. For I had rather be Author of one Scene of Comedy, like some of Ben. Jonson's, then of all the best Plays of this kind that have been, or ever shall be written: Good Comedy requiring much more Wit and judgement in the Writer, than any Rhyming, unnatural Plays can do: This I have so little valued, that I have not altered six lines in it since it was first written, which (except the Songs at the Marriage of Psyche in the last Scene) was all done Sixteen months since. In all the words which are sung, I did not so much take care of the Wit or Fancy of'em, as the making of'em proper for Music; in which I cannot but have some little knowledge, having been bred for many years of my Youth to some performance in it.  
I chalked out the way to the Composer (in all but the Song of Furies and Devils in the Fifth Act) having designed which Line I would have sung by One, which by Two, which by Three, which by four Voices, etc. and what manner of Humour I would have in all the Vocal Music.  
And by his excellent Composition, that long known able and approved Master of Music, Mr. Lock, (Composer to His Majesty, and Organist to the Queen) has done me a great deal of right; though, I believe, the unskilful in Music will not like the more solemn part of it, as the Music in the Temple of Apollo, and the Song of the Despairing Lovers, in the Second Act; both which are proper and admirable in their kinds, and are recommended to the judgement of able Musicians: for those who are not so, there are light and eyrie things to please them.  
All the Instrumental Music (which is not mingled with the Vocal) was composed by that Great Master, Signior Gio: Baptista Draghi, Master of the Italian Music to the King. The Dances were made by the most famous Master of France, Monsieur St. Andreé. The Scenes were Painted by the Ingenious Artist, Mr. Stephenson. In those things that concern the Ornament or Decoration of the Play, the great industry and care of Mr. Betterton ought to be remembered, at whose desire I wrote upon this Subject.   

POSTSCRIPT.  
I Had borrowed something from two Songs of my own, which till this Play was Printed, I did not know were public; but I have since found 'em printed in Collections of Poems, viz. part of the Song of the Despairing Lovers, in the Second Act, and about Eight lines in the First Act, beginning at this line, 'Tis frail as an abortive Birth. This I say, to clear myself from Thiev'ry, 'tis none to rob myself. The Reader may please to take notice ofseveral Erratas, as,  
Page 2. for, bright Sun exhales, read, gross Earth exhales. p. 6. after, where you shall be adorned by me, insert, with all the Treasures of the East and West. p. 15. l. 5. for, upon the Tripod, read, before which stands the Tripod. p. 18. before, it Thunders, insert, As the Priestess Pythia is mounting the Tripod. p 42. read, Great Statues of Gold standing upon Pedestal, with small Figures of Gold sitting at their feet. Several other Errors there are, which the sense will help you to correct,   

Prologue.  

AS a young Wanton when she first begins,  
With shame and with regret of Conscience sins;  
So fares our trembling Poet, the first time,  
He has committed the lewd sin of Rhyme,  
While Custom hardens others in the Crime.  
It might in him that boldness too beget,  
To lay about him without fear or wit:  
But humbly he your pardon does implore;  
Already he repents, and says he'll sin no more.  
His business now is to show splendid Scenes,  
T'interpret 'twixt the Audience and Machine's.  
You must not here expect exalted Thought,  
Nor lofty Verse, nor Scenes with labour wrought:  
His Subject's humble, and his Verse is so;  
This Theme no thundering Raptures would allow,  
Nor would he, if he could, that way pursue.  
He'd ride unruly Fancy with a Bit,  
And keep within the bounds of Sense and Wit,  
Those bounds no boisterous Fustian will admit.  
And did not gentle Hearers oft dispense  
With all the Sacred Rules of Wit and Sense;  
Such tearing Lines, as crack the Writers Brain,  
And the laborious Actors Lungs o'rstrain,  
Would, on our Stages, be roared out in vain.  
In all true Wit, a due proportion's found,  
To the just Rules of height and distance bound.  
Wit, like a Falcon, towering in its flight,  
When once it soars above its lawful height,  
Lessens, till it becomes quite out of sight.  
But of such flights, there is no danger now;  
He would not soar too high, nor creep too low:  
Howe'er, he hopes you will excuse his haste,  
For he this gaudy Trifle wrote so fast;  
Five weeks begun and finished this design,  
In those few hours he snatched from Friends and Wine;  
And since in better things h'has spent his time,  
With which he hopes ere long t'atone this Crime.  
But he, alas! has several powerful Foes,  
Who are unjustly so, and yet he knows,  
They will, what e'er he writes, though good, oppose.  
If he the honour has to please the best,  
'Tis not his fault if he offends the rest:  
But none of them yet so severe can be,  
As to condemn this Trifle more than he.    
PSYCHE.  

ACT I.  The Scene is a very deep Walk in the midst of a mighty Wood, through which is seen a Prospect of a very pleasant Country. Enter Psyche and two Ladies. Psyc. 
HOw charming are these Meads and Groves!  
The Scene of Innocence and Artless Loves;  
Where Interest no discord moves.  
No stormy passions can the mind invade,  
No Sacred Trust is violated here.  1. Lad. 
Man does not here his own kind fear,  
Traps are for Wolves and Foxes made,  
And Toils for Beasts, not Men, are laid;  
Man is not here by Man betrayed.  2. Lad. 
Here no man's ruin is with baseness sought,  
For in this happy place no Courtlike Arts are taught.  Psyc. 
How pleasant is this undisturbed retreat,  
With harmless Joys and Rural Sports,  
Free from tumultuous Cares that trouble Courts,  
And all the Factions which disturb the Great.  1. Lad. 
How vain their gaudy Pomp and Show,  
To which the cheated Vulgar bow!  
Their Splendour and their perish'ng Pride,  
Their shining Revels, their adulterate Joys,  
When in the midst of all this pomp and noise,  
In their unquiet minds still anxious thoughts reside.  2. Lad. 
Their Triumphs are disturbed with fears,  
Their Joys allayed with griefs and cares:  
Envy and pride possess each breast,  
And guilty dreams distract their rest.  Psyc. 
From sleep to dangerous Arts they 'wake;  
To undermine each other all mean ways they take.  
Each strives who shall his Monarch lead,  
Though at the price of his own Father's head:  
Nor care they how much they their Prince misguide,  
To serve their Lust, their Avarice, and Pride.  1. Lad. 
Yet there the Mighty are not prosperous long,  
Though ne'er so cunning, ne'er so strong;  
Though ne'er so much endeared to th' Crown:  
Fresh Favourites succeed and pull them down.  Psyc. 
As a black Cloud which the bright Sun exhales,  
Swelled and oppressed with its own weight,  
Down to the Earth rent with fierce Lightning falls.  
So splendid favourites in their envied height,  
Big with the swellings of their Pride and Power,  
Do seldom scape the dismal hour,  
When by some new-raised Meteors torn,  
They from the highest pinnacle of fate,  
Fall to the most dejected state,  
And from the Idols of the world become the scorn.  
These Troubles in my Father's Court I've seen,  
And ne'er can wish to be a Queen.  1. Lad. 
Cannot so many powerful Princes move  
Psyche's obdurate heart to Love?  2. Lad. 
Not one who can a Prince in Greece be called,  
Who is not by your Eyes enthralled:  
Each Prince great Psyche does adore,  
And pity from her heart implore.  1. Lad. 
But you with all their charms unmoved remain,  
And smile when every Captive shakes his Chain.  Psych. 
Not all the Pomp of Courts can ere remove  
Me from the Pleasures of the quiet Grove:  
Each pretty Nymph to me her Tribute yields  
Of all the fragrant Treasure of the Fields.  
Garlands and Wreaths they bring  
From the sweet bosom of the Spring.  
And with their rural Numbers sing my Praise,  
In soft delights passing their quiet days.  
Princes in all the Calms of Peace,  
Have no such powerful Charms as these.  
Shall I for Courts abandon this soft life,  
For splendid Beggary, and for smiling strife?  [A Symphony of Recorders and soft Music. 
What Harmony is this which fills the Air?  
And does my Senses charm?  2. Lad. 
Some Entertainment your poor Swains prepare,  
Which they each day perform.  Enter Pan with his Followers, and Sings in Recitative. Pan sings. 
Great Psyche, Goddess of each Field and Grove,  
Whom every Prince and every God does love:  
To your all-commanding hand  
Pan yields his Sovereign Command:  
For you the Satyrs and the Fawns  
Shall nimbly trip it or the Lawns.  
For you the Shepherd's Pipe and Sing,  
And with their Nymphs Dance in a Ring:  
Fruits shall they bring, and pretty Garlands weave,  
And shall the Meads of all their Sweets bereave:  
Vertumnus and Flora their Tribute shall pay,  
And to Psyche shall dedicate this happy day.  
The Sylvans and Dryads shall Dance all around,  
And Psyche dread Queen of this Place shall be Crowned.  
My Loved Syrinx and Echo shall sing and shall play,  
And to Psyche shall dedicate this happy day.  Chor. 
And Pan, who before all here did command,  
Now resigns all his Empire to Psyche's fair hand.  
They all kneel and sing the Chorus.  [While the following Symphony's playing, Pan Crowns her with a Garland, his Attendants present her with Fruits, Flowers, etc. A short Symphony of Rustic Music, representing the Cries and Notes of Birds. Then an Entry Danced by Four Sylvans and Four Dryads to Rustic Music. At the end of the Dance, the Dryads upon their knees present Psyche with Fruits and Flowers; and the Sylvans present her with Wreaths of Laurel, Myrtle and Cyprus. Then Exeunt Sylu. & Dryads. Then a short Symphony of Rustic Music, representing an Echo. The Dryads and Sylvans presenting their Offerings. One sings. 1. Voice. 
Great Psyche shall find no such pleasure as here  Echo. 
no such pleasure as here  
as here.  2. Voices. 
Where her dutiful Subjects shall all stand in awe  Echo. 
shall all stand in awe  
in awe.  3. Voices. 
Her Frowns and her Smiles shall give us all Law  Echo. 
shall give us all Law  
all Law.  4. Voices. 
And from us of Rebellion she need have no fear  Echo. 
she need have no fear  
no fear.  Voices, Flajolets, Violins, Cornets, Sackbuts, Hoa-boys: All join in Chorus. [Hear the Singers mingle with the Dancers. Chor. 
How happy are those that inhabit this place,  
Where a sigh is ne'er heard, where no falsehood we meet,  
Where each single heart agrees with the face.  
No Climate was ever so calm and so sweet.  Echo. 
was ever so calm and so sweet.  
so calm and so sweet  
so sweet.  1. Voice. 
To beauteous Psyche all devotion is due.  Echo. 
all devotion is due  
is due.  2. Voices. 
Our humble Offerings she will not despise  Echo. 
she will not despise  
despise.  3. Voices. 
Since the Tribute is offered from hearts that are true  Echo. 
from hearts that are true  
are true.  4. Voices. 
From hearts all devoted to Psyche's bright Eyes  Echo. 
to Psyche's bright Eyes  
bright Eyes.  Chor. 
How happy are those, etc.  [They Dance. Psyc. 
Oh happy Solitude! Oh sweet Retreat!  
Free from the noise and troubles of the Great!  
Not all the wealth of all the world shall charm  
Me from this calm retirement here,  
Where I enjoy all pleasure, know no fear,  
No Joy can here surprise, nor Danger can alarm.  Enter Four Women, personating Ambition, Power, Plenty and Peace. 
What new unwelcome Guests are these,  
That would invade my peace?  Amb. 
We come t'invite you from your vicious ease,  
To Courts, where glorious Actions are performed.  
Leave lazy Groves, for active Palaces,  
Where you by great Ambition may be warmed;  
By me to noble thoughts may be inflamed,  
To think of Ruling Kings, not silly Swains,  
Each day your Beauty a new Captive gains,  
And in all Courts no other Beauty's named.  Power. 
I from your solitude do you invite,  
And I am she for whom all Monarch's fight,  
Power, Mankind's supreme delight.  
Fair Psyche to the Court, come follow me,  
Numbers of Tributary Kings shall kneel to thee.  
What e'er can be within the prospect of thy Thought,  
Shall instantly to thee by humble Slaves be brought.  Plenty. 
Psyche, this lonely Desert quit,  
The Scene of homelinese and poverty:  
A splendid Palace does your state befit,  
Where you ●…ll be adorned by me,  
Thy life shall be but one continued Feast,  
And every Prince shall be thy Guest:  
All Delicates I'll find for thy content,  
Which Luxury inspired by Wit can e'er invent.  Peace. 
And I to Crown all these,  
Will give you everlasting Peace;  
Peace, That no Fiends shall ever harm,  
Nor the mad Tumults of Mankind alarm:  
My Olive still shall flourish where you are,  
For Peace should always wait upon the Fair.  Psyc. 
Happy are they who know Ambition least.  
I'm only safe and quiet, while my breast  
Is not with base Ambitious thoughts oppressed,  
Too turbulent to let poor Mortals rest.  
O'er all my Tyrant Passions Power I have,  
And scorn that Power which can but rule a Slave.  
The use of mighty Riches is but small;  
Besides I nothing coveting, have All.  
Peace, with such vain Companions never dwells,  
She's only safe in humble Groves and Cells,  Envy with Six Furies arise, at which Ambition, Power, Plenty, and Peace run away affrighted. 1. Lad. 
What dreadful Vision does distract our sight!  
Do not these Fiends your mighty mind surprise?  Psyc. 
Their ugly shapes bring wonder to my eyes,  
But nothing can my constant mind affright.  Envy sings. 
Envy 'gainst Psyche such black storms shall raise,  
As all her powerful beams shall ne'er dispel:  
Beyond her strength shall be her suffering;  
Her to the greatest misery I'll bring,  
And e'er I've done, I'll send her down to Hell.  1. Fury. 
In Hell too late she shall relent,  
And all her arrogance repent.  2. Fury. 
We Furies will torment your Soul,  
And you shall weep and howl.  1. Fury. 
And at the sight of every Snake  
Tremble and quake.  2. Fury. 
There you shall mourn eternally,  
And to the quick shall feel each lash we give▪  1. Fury. 
There you shall always wish to die,  
And yet in spite of you shall always live.  Chor. of all. 
There you shall always, etc.  [Envy and Furies sink. 2. Lad. 
What horrid words are these we hear?  
I am almost dissolved with fear:  
Can Envy this sweet dwelling find.  1 Lad. 
Envy the greatest Bane to all Mankind.  
What dreadful Fate does she foretell?  
What Prophecy is this?  
The Gods will sure do much amiss,  
Should they permit you to be snatched to Hell.  Psyc. 
Fate! do thy worst, thou ne'er shalt trouble me,  
The Innocent within themselves are free:  
Envy, I can be valiant against thee.  Enter Prince Nicander. 2. Lad. 
But see the Prince Nicander does appear:  
Industrious Love pursues you every where.  Nican. 
Madam, I to this Solitude am come,  
Humbly from you to hear my latest doom.  Psyc. 
The first command which I did give,  
Was, that you should not see me here:  
The next command you will receive,  
Much harsher will to you appear.  Nican. 
How long, fair Psyche, shall I sigh in vain?  
How long of scorn and cruelty complain?  
Your eyes enough have wounded me,  
You need not add your cruelty.  
You against me too many Weapons choose,  
Who am defenceless against each you use:  Psyc. 
Shall no concealed retirement keep me free  
From Love's vexatious importunity?  
I in my Father's Court too long endured  
The ill which I by absence thought t' have cured?  Nican. 
Planets, that cause our Fates, cannot be long obscured,  
Though Comets vanish from our sense,  
When they've disperssed their fatal Influence  
And nothing but the sad effects remain,  
Yet Stars that govern us, would hide themselves in vain.  
The momentary Clouds must soon be passed.  
Which would their brightness overcast.  Psyc. 
Why should Nicander thus pursue in vain  
Her, o'er whose mind he can no Conquest gain:  
For though my Body thus abroad you see,  
My Mind shall stay within and keep its privacy.  Nican. 
Blame not the passion you yourself create,  
Which is to me resistless as my Fate:  
Can Psyche own such cruelties,  
As vainly Priests impute to Deities?  
To punish the Affections they inspire,  
As if they'd kindle to put out a fire.  
If from the Gods we any gifts receive,  
Our Appetites of Nature they must give.  
Let Priests for Self-denial then contend,  
If we 'gainst Nature go, we Heaven offend,  
Who made that Nature to pursue its end.  
Nature's desires heavens' known prescriptions are,  
Of greater certainty than others far:  
Priests Inspirations may but Dreams be found,  
Th'effects of Vapours or of Spleens unsound:  
But Nature cannot err in her own way,  
And though Priests may, she cannot lead astray.  Psyc. 
Nature the Gods first uncorrupted made,  
But to corruption 'twas by Man betrayed;  
Which when so much exorbitant they found,  
What first they had made free, they justly bound.  Nican. 
If Nature be not what the Gods first meant,  
Then powerful Man defeated Heaven's intent.  
If the God's Engine of the World must be  
Mended by them, how did they then foresee?  
Must Men, like Clocks, be altered to go right?  
Or though wound up by Nature, must stand still?  
Must we against our own affections fight,  
And quite against the Bias bend the will?  Psyc. 
Against yourself you've pleaded all this time;  
If not to follow Nature be a crime,  
Mine so averse to Love by Heaven is made,  
She above all by me shall be obeyed.  Enter Polynices. Nican. 
Nature incites all humane kind to love;  
Who deny that, unnatural must prove.  
How, Polynices, my great Rival here!  
This is the only way I him can fear:  
His Arms are far less dreadful than his Love.  Psyc. 
Sir, what could your injurious kindness move,  
Thus to disturb the quiet of my life?  
In vain, great Princes, is your amorous strife.  Polyn. 
If I were singular, you might think me rude:  
But I can many dangerous Rivals find.  
A violent passion makes me thus intrude.  
Be but to me as you're to others, kind;  
Let not my death alone be here designed.  
Too fatal was the first surprise  
I suffered by your conquering Eyes:  
Your powerful Charms no Mortal can resist,  
I in an instant loved, and never can desist.  Nican. 
Such violent and sudden love  
Perhaps must soon remove:  
'Tis frail as an abortive Birth,  
And as it soon approached, it soon may fly  
As when too early flowers come forth,  
From the first moment of their birth they die.  
Mine by degrees did to perfection grow,  
And is too strong to be resisted now.  Polyn. 
That which I have for that illustrious face,  
Is Sympathy, not lazy Love  
The Steel the Loadstone does as soon embrace,  
And of itself will ne'er remove.  Nican. 
The Steel you speak of may be snatched from thence  
With very little violence.  Polyn. 
Who shall commit that violence on me?  Nican. 
He who before has conquered thee:  
Thou didst my Empire, dost my Love invade?  
My Love shall be my only aid.  
And I again thy Conqueror can be.  Polyn. 
I was by Fortune then betrayed,  
But now by Love am much more powerful made.  
Oh that the way for Psyche to be won,  
Were for me to possess thy Throne,  
I would believe't already done:  
And when with ease I'd triumphed o'er thee,  
Thou on thy knees shouldst beg her Love for me.  Nican. 
Did not her Sacred presence guard thy life,  
This fatal place should soon decide our strife:  
I on thy conquered neck would tread,  
And make thee forfeit soon thy useless head.  
I'd put an end now to your Love and you:  
And when perhaps I'd nothing else to do,  
I might vouchsafe to take your petty Kingdom too.  Polyn. 
Should my death soon ensue,  
Which never can be caused by you,  
It might to you some bold presumptions give,  
You dare not think such thoughts while yet I live.  
For what thou hast already said,  
Shouldst thou escape me with thy head,  
Yet I will soon depopulate thy Land,  
And leave thee none but Beasts for thy command;  
Or may be, if thou fallest into my hand,  
I openly will thee in triumph lead:  
Thy Cities into Deserts I will turn,  
And thou in Chains shalt tamely see 'em burn.  Nican. 
Gods—  Psyc. 
Princes, let your untimely discord cease,  
If my esteem you'd gain, conclude a peace.  
Each to the other must become a friend:  
Though Rivals, yet you must agree;  
You but for something in the Clouds contend,  
If thus you think to conquer me.  Polyn. 
So absolute is your command,  
That I my Rival will embrace;  
Your will no Lover can withstand.  
I can do any thing but give my Rival place.  Nican. 
Your Voice may still the fury of the Winds,  
Or calm the most distempered minds:  
Wild Beasts at your command in peace would be,  
When you make Rivals thus agree.  [They embrace: Psyc. 
I ne'er can value Birth or State,  
'Tis virtue must my heart obtain:  
You may each other emulate  
In glorious actions; but must quit all hate,  
Ere either of you my esteem can gain.  
The next command I give, must be,  
Not to invade my privacy.  
Princes, farewell, you must not follow me.  Nican. 
So sacred are the dread commands you give,  
From you my death I humbly would receive.  
For I can scarce hear this and live.  Polyn. 
Your breath men's minds to any thing may move,  
When you make Rivals one another love.  [Exit Psyche. 
But see! her envious Sisters do appear,  
Whose anger less than love we fear.  As they are going off in haste, Enter Cidippe and Aglaura. Cid. 
Great Princes whither do you fly so fast?  Aglau. 
'Tis to their Idol Psyche by their haste.  Cid. 
What Princelike virtue can you find  
In her poor and groveling mind?  Aglau. 
Heaven did her Soul for Cottages create,  
And for some vulgar purpose did design:  
Her mind's too narrow for a Prince's state,  
She has no virtues which in Courts may shine.  Cidip. 
Her beauty like her mind is vulgar too.  
Like the dull off spring of some Village Pair,  
She might perhaps some Shepherd's heart subdue,  
But should, poor thing, of Princes looks despair.  Aglau. 
A thousand times more charms they here might find,  
Beauty, that's fit to attract great Princes eyes.  
But silly Love, forsooth, hath struck them blind;  
For could they see, they would their Love despise.  Nican. 
Farewell Such blasphemies we must not hear  
Against the Goddess we adore.  Poly 
So beautiful to us she does appear,  
That none shall ever charm us more.  [Exeunt Nicander & Polynices. Cidip. 
Blasted be her Beauty, and her charms accursed,  
That must our ruin bring;  
I am almost with envy burst,  
To see each day she can command a King.  Aglau. 
And whilst she lives, we can no Lovers have:  
Oh that her Cradle had become her Grave!  Cid. 
She by each Prince is Idolised,  
Whilst our neglected Beauties may grow old,  
And not be sought by them she has despised.  Aglau. 
Oh that I live to hear this story told.  
This Theme has made my anger bold.  
I on her Beauty will revenge our Cause.  
We are not safe whilst breath she draws.  
Her an Example of Revenge I'll make.  Cidip. 
Must we be thus neglected for her sake?  
Venus! redress the wrongs which she has done:  
She may in time ensnare your Son.  
She such an Idol by Mankind is made.  
Your power no more will be obeyed;  
Your Sacred Beauty they'll neglect,  
Your Deity will have no more respect.  Aglau. 
No Incense more will on your Altar's smoke,  
No Victims more will burn,  
Each Prince her Worshipper will turn.  
Let this your great Divinity provoke;  
Revenge yourself, and take our part,  
Punish her stubborn heart,  
And by your utmost fury let her smart.  [A Symphony of soft Music. Cidip. 
What Divine Harmony is this we hear!  
Such never yet approached my Ear!  [Venus descends in her Chariot, drawn with Doves. Aglau. 
See Venus Chariot hovering in the Air;  
The Goddess sure has heard our prayer.  Venus sings. 
With kindness I your prayers receive,  
And to your hopes success will give.  
I have with anger seen Mankind adore  
Your Sister's beauty, and her scorn deplore.  
Which they shall do no more.  
For their Idolatry I'll so resent,  
As shall your wishes to the full content.  
Your Father is with Psyche now,  
And to Apollo's Oracle they'll go.  
Her Destiny to know.  
Iby the God of Wit shall be obeyed,  
For Wit to Beauty still is subject made.  
He'll so resent your cause and mine,  
That you will not repine,  
But will applaud the Oracle's Design.  Cidip. 
Great Goddess, we our thanks return,  
We after this no more shall mourn.  Aglau. 
Your Sacred power for ever we'll obey,  
And to your Altars our whole Worship pay.  [Venus ascends with soft Music. Enter Theander with his Followers, and Psyche with two Ladies. Thean. 
Daughters, no more you shall contend,  
This happy day your strife shall end:  
The Oracle shall ease you of your care;  
We to the Temple will repair,  
And Psyche will obey,  
What e'er the Delphic God shall say.  
And—  
What e'er Apollo shall command, shall be,  
I swear by all the Gods, performed by me.  Psyc. 
And on my knees I make this solemn vow,  
To his Decree I will devoutly bow.  
Let his commands be what they will,  
I cheerfully will them fulfil.  Thean. 
Let's to Apollo's Temple then repair,  
And seek the God with Sacrifice and Prayer.  [Exeunt omnes.  

ACT II.  The Scene is the Temple of Apollo Delphicus, with Columns of the Doric Order, enriched with Gold, in the middle a stately Cupulo, on the top of it the Figure of the Sun; some distance before it an Altar lined with Brass; under it a large Image of Apollo upon the Tripod. Enter in a Solemn Procession, the Chief Priest crowned with Laurel, in a white Vestment, over that, a Purple Gown, over that a Cope embroidered with Gold, over all a Lambskin Hood with the Wool on: He has four Boys attending, two before two behind, clad in Surplices, and girt with Girdles of Gold; the first carrying a golden Censor with Myrrh, Frankincense, and sweet Gums, etc. The Second a Barley Cake, or Barley Meal, with Salt, upon a golden Service. The third, a golden Cruise, full of Honey and Water. The fourth a large gilt Book embossed with Gold. After them six Priests, with Books of Hymns, clad in Surplices and embroidered Copes. Then Men with Wind-Instruments, clad in Surplices, all crowned with Wreaths of Laurel. After them Nicander, Cidippe, Polynices, Aglaura, Theander, Psyche. Then a Train of Ladies. All the Women with their faces covered with white Veils. After all, Theander's Attendants and Guards in their Procession. This following Hymn is sung in Chorus. Chor. 
LEt's to Apollo's Altar now repair,  
And offer up our Vows and Prayer;  
Let us inquire fair Psyche's destiny.  
Repeat.  
The Gods to her will sure propitious be,  
If Innocence and Beauty may go free.  Ch. P. 
Go on, and to the Altar lead.  Chief Priest turns to the People, and sings on. 
This hallowed ground let no one tread,  
Who is defiled with Whoredom, or with Blood,  
Lest all our prayers should be for them withstood.  
Let none be present at our Sacrifice,  
But of an humble uncorrupted mind.  
The God for wicked men will all our vows despise.  
And will to all our wishes be unkind.  [By this time they come near the Altar, they all bow, and divide, and stand on each side of the Altar, and the Chief Priest before. The Chief Priest kneels and kisses the Altar. The Priest and Boys kneel with him; they rise, and he, holding the Altar in his hands, sings alone, as follows. Ch. Pr. 
Son of Latona and great Jove,  
In Delos born, which thou so much dost love:  
Great God of Physic and of Archery,  
Of wisdom, Wit, and Harmony;  
God of all Divinations too.  Chor. of Voices and Instrum. 
To thee our vows and prayers are due.  
To thee our, etc.  [Chief Priest kneels, kisses the Altar, then rises and sings. Ch. Pr. 
Thou gav'st the cruel Serpent Python death,  
Depriv'dst the Giant Tyrion of his breath:  
Thou didst the monstrous Cyclops too destroy,  
Who formed the Thunder, which did kill thy Son.  Chor. 
Thou light of all our life, and all our joy,  
Our Offerings with our hearts are all thine own.  [Chief Priest kneels, and kisses the Altar again. Ch. Pr. 
By sacred Hyacinth, thy much loved Flower,  
By Daphne's memory we thee implore,  
Thou wouldst be present at our Sacrifice,  
And not our humble Offerings despise.  Chorus of Voices and Instrum. 
And we for ever will thy praise advance.  
Thou Author of all Light and Heat.  
Let Pipes and Timbrels souna, and let them dance.  
Each day our worship we'll repeat,  
Each day, etc.  [A Dance of Priests entering from each side of the Stage, with Cymbals, Bells, and Flambeaux. After the Dance, they all kneel, and the Chief Priest begins with a loud voice; All answer as follows. Ch. Pr. 
jupiter, juno, Minerva, Saturn, Cibele,  Respons. 
Be propitious to our vows and prayers.  Ch. Pr. 
Mars, Bellona, Venus, Cupid, Vulcanus.  Resp. 
Be propitious, etc.  Ch. Pr. 
Bacchus, Pan, Neptunus, Sylvanus, Fawnus, Vertumnus, Palaemon.  Resp. 
Be propitious, etc.  Ch. Pr. 
All ye Gods, Goddesses, and all the powers.  Resp. 
Be propitious, etc.  They rise: The Chief Priest turns to the left hand, and runs, or dances about the Altar, Priests and Boys following him, all the Instruments sounding. They sing as follows: Chor. 
To Apollo our Celestial King,  
We will Io Paean sing;  
Io Paean, Io Paean,  
Io Paean will we sing:  The Dancers mingle with the Singers. The Chief Priest kneels at the Altar. The Boys stand about him. The Priests take the Libamina from the Boys, after a little pause. One Priest rises and waves a wand. Then all fall on their knees. 1. Pr. 
Favete linguis, favete linguis, favete linguis.  2. Pr. (riseth, waves a wand) 
Hoc agite, hoc agite, hoc agite.  Ch. Pr. rises, and turns to the people. Ch. Pr. (with a loud voice) 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Response of all. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Chief Priest turns and kneels at the Altar again. The Boys run out and fetch, one a Flambeaux, the other little Faggots of Cedar, Juniper, etc. The Priest rises and lays them on the Altar. All but the Chief Priest and Boys are kneeling, intent upon the Altar, without speech or motion. As soon as the fire is kindled, which the Priest does himself with the Flambeau. Ch. Pr. 
(with a loud voice) Behold the Fire.  All but the Chief Priest fall flat on their faces, then rise again. The Boys reach the Libamina to the Chief Priest: 1. The Censor, with Gums, which he offers. 2. The Barley Cake, which he strews with salt, then lays it on the Fire. Then sprinkles the Honey and Water on the Fire. Chief Priest waves his Wand to Theander and Psyche, who draw near, and kneel just behind. Ch. Pr. 
Now ask the God the thing for which you came,  
And after that we'll sacrifice a Ram.  Thean. 
That we may know, we humbly pray,  
Who shall Psyche's Husband be.  
She will most cheerfully obey  
Her Destiny, and your Decree.  It Thunders and Lightens extremely. Apollo's Image trembles, at which they all rise affrighted. Ch. Pr. 
O Heaven! what prodigy is this?  
Something is in our holy Rites amiss.  It Thunders and Lightens again, the Image trembling, and in convulsions, with a very loud and hollow voice utters these following Lines: Apollo. 
YOu must conduct her to that fatal place,  
Where miserable Lovers, that despair,  
With howls and Lamentations fill the air;  
A Husband there your Daughter shall embrace.  
On Venus' Rock upon the Sea,  
She must by you deserted be;  
A poisonous Serpent there she'll find,  
By Heaven he Psyche's Husband is designed.  [At this they all start, affrighted. Thean. 
Gods! that I e'er should live to see this day.  
'Tis for some great offence  
Of mine, that thou art to be snatched from hence.  
Oh take my life, and let her stay.  
But 'tis in vain to ask, we must obey:  
For which I'll weep my hated life away.  Cydip. 
Venus has kept her word, and she shall be  
Much more adored by me,  
Then any other Deity.  Aglau. 
Now my fair Sister must a Serpent have,  
' Stead of a Nuptial Bed, a Grave.  
Now she shall suffer for her pride;  
Our Love and Hate will now be satisfied.  Psyc. 
To whatsoe'er the Oracle thinks fit,  
I cheerfully submit:  
I have not lived so ill, but I  
With ease can die:  
I with a willing heart  
Can with my life as with a trifle part:  
As no joy yet could ever fill my mind,  
I from no danger can distraction find.  Thean. 
Lead on; and with a funeral pace,  
For I in that unhappy place  
Must bury all my joy, and leave my life behind.  Nican. 
Stay but a moment, stay;  
You will not sure this Oracle obey.  
Consider and be wise:  
If it be good Psyche to sacrifice,  
You were obliged to't without this command,  
And we the action should not then withstand.  Polyn 
If bad, than Heaven itself can't make it good;  
All good and ill's already understood.  
Heaven has forbid the shedding guiltless blood.  
If good and ill anew it has designed,  
The Gods are mutable, and change their mind.  Nican. 
Be not by this Imposture, Sir, betrayed,  
By this dull Idol which the Priests have made:  
Too many Cheats are in the Temple found,  
There fraud does more than piety abound:  
They make the senseless Image speak with ease  
What e'er themselves shall please.  Ch. Pr. 
Do not the sacred Image thus profane,  
Which will revenge itself, and all its Rites maintain.  Polyn. 
If that be sacred, and you that adore,  
Then him that made it you should worship more:  
To th'poor Mechanic you give no respect,  
Y'adore his Workmanship, but him neglect.  Nican. 
For Sacred you impose what you decree,  
And the deluded Multitude believe,  
By boasting of Infallibility,  
Th'unthinking Rabble you with ease deceive.  Pol. 
What ever in Divinity you know,  
In all concernments of Mankind below:  
In all the objects of the Mind,  
And in all humone Science we can find,  
In Priests more Errors then in all Mankind.  Nican. 
In Sacred Things yet you so much excel  
All others, in your Sleeps you can foretell;  
When after surfeits in your holy Feasts  
You sleep in skins of sacrificed Beasts,  
The troubled Dreams you from those fumes receive,  
To the unheedful world for Oracles you give.  Thean. 
In holy Mysteries you must lay by  
Your intricate Philosophy.  
After the dreadful Cloud with Thunder broke,  
It was some loud immortal voice that spoke.  Ch. Pr. 
The holy Rites you saw performed,  
By Miracles were now confirmed.  Nican. 
Miracles!  
Your holy Cheats t'advance your Mystery:  
The noblest Science is Divinity.  
But when become a Trade, I see 'twill be,  
Like other Trades, maintained by Knavery.  Ch. Pr. 
By Miracles the power of Heaven is known:  Polyn. 
heavens' power is more by settled order shown▪  
The beauty of that order which is found,  
To govern the Creation in a round,  
The fixed uninterrupted Chain whereby  
All things on one another must depend,  
This method proves a wise Divinity,  
As much as should the Gods on earth descend.  Ch. Pr. 
You speak from Nature, which is ignorance;  
But we to Inspiration must advance.  Nican. 
If, Priest, by Means not natural Heaven declares▪  
Its will, and our obedience so prepares;  
The Gods by this their weakness would confess,  
What you call Miracles, would make them less.  
If something without Nature they produce,  
Nature is then defective to their use:  
And when by that they cannot work their end,  
By Miracle their Instrument they mend.  Polyn. 
If this be granted, Priest, by this we find,  
The Gods foresee not, or else change their mind.  
But Heaven does nothing to our sense produce,  
But it does outward Natural Causes use.  
Fools trust in Miracles, and fools ne'er doubt:  
'Tis ignorance of Causes, Priest, makes fools devout.  [Thunders again. Ch. Pr. 
Be gone, profane and wicked men,  
You have provoked heavens' wrath again.  
Heaven does again to you in Thunder speak!  Nican. 
'Twas nothing but a petty cloud did break;  
What, can your Priesthoods grave Philosophy  
So much amazed at common Thunder be?  Psyc. 
We should obey without these prodigies;  
I to heavens' Will my own will sacrifice.  Cidip. 
Must I then with my much loved Sister part?  Aglau. 
The dismal loss will break my tender heart.  Thean. 
Joy of my life, let's to the fatal place,  
Where thine and all my sorrow is designed:  
When thee the poisonous Serpent shall embrace,  
Assure thyself I'll not stay long behind.  Polyn. 
Thus the great Agamemnon was betrayed,  
And Iphigenia thus a Victim made:  
Such horrid ills Religion can persuade.  [Exeunt omnes. The Scene changes to a Rocky Desert full of dreadful Caves, Cliff, and Precipices, with a high Rock looking down into the Sea. Enter two despairing Lovers. 1. Lov. 
Ah what a dreadful Rocky desert's this,  
The Melancholy Region of despair:  
Where e'er I turn me, poisonous Serpents hiss,  
And with their venomous breaths infect the air.  2. Lov. 
Here pestilential vapours do abound,  
And killing Dumps the Vaults and Caverns breath;  
From dreadful gapings of the craggy ground,  
The fatal Desert seems to yawn forth death.  1. Lov. 
A gloomy darkness hovers o'er this place;  
Here sure the Sun ne'er shows his joyful face.  
Nature this place for horror did design:  
No beam of comfort here can shine;  2. Lov. 
Nothing but houls of sad despair,  
And dismal groans of Wretches fill the air.  
Who in Agonies their hated lives resign.  1. Lov. 
How many various ways to death we have:  
Some from that Rock have plunged into the Deep;  
And in the Sea we saw'em find a grave.  2 Lov. 
Some by their Poniards meet deaths easy sleep:  
Some desperate Lovers find out death,  
By wilful stopping their own breath.  1. Lov. 
Nature this place did for my griefintend.  2. Lov. 
And here my fatal life and love shall end.  1. Lov. 
Psyche is hither by Apollo sent,  
Here to fulfil the Oracle's intent.  Two despairing Men and two despairing Women sing as follows. 1. Man. 
BReak, break distracted heart, there is no cure  
For Love, my minds too raging Calenture.  1. Wom. 
Sighs which in other passions vent,  
And give them ease when they lament,  
Are but the bellows to my hot desire.  2. Wom. 
And tears in me not quench, but nourish fire.  2. Man. 
Nothing can mollify my grief,  
Or give my passion a relief.  1. Man. 
Love is not like our carthly fire,  
You soon may smother out that flame;  
Concealing does increase desire,  
No opposition Love cantame.  2. Wom. 
Despair in Love transcends all pain,  
Lost hope will ne'er return again.  1. Wom. 
In Hell there's no such misery,  
As now oppresses me.  
I this one pang alone  
Would change for Sisyphus his Stone.  2. Man. 
I would the torments which I feel  
Change for I●…n's Wheel.  2. Wom. 
The Vulture should on me for ever feed,  
Rather than thus my heart for Love should bleed.  1. Man. 
Oh Tantalus! for thy eternal Thirst;  
I'm more on Earth than thou in Hell accursed.  1. Wom. 
Was ever grief like mine?  2. Wom. 
Like mine?  1. Man. 
Like mine?  2. Man. 
Like mine?  Chorus. 
Was ever grief like mine?  
Was ever, etc.  2. Wom. 
Nothing but death can cure our misery.  1. Wom. 
I'll die.  1. Man. 
I'll die.  2. Man. 
I'll die.  Chorus. 
Nothing but death can cure our misery.  
Nothing but, etc.  1. Man speaks. 
How long shall I for this dull Serpent stay,  
Ere I become his prey?  
Come forth from out thy pos'nous Den:  
Dost thou despise the flesh of Men?  2. Man. 
The lazy Serpent breakfasted to day;  
I will not for his waking stomach stay:  
I ll b' Author of my fate, and make myself away.  [Falls on his sword. 1. Wom. 
Your Sex no more in courage shall excel,  
For I can die as well.  
I in this dagger my relief will find,  
And kill my body thus to ease my mind.  [Kills herself. 1. Man. 
I to the top of all the Rock will climb;  
And if in little time  
The Serpent there I cannot see,  
I'll find a way to follow thee.  2. Wom. 
My heart that office will perform for me.  
A deathlike pang I feel,  
I have no need of steel.  
A faint cold sweat besmears my face,  
I can make haste and die apace.  
And these are the last words I ere shall speak,  
Farewell my cruel Love, for thee my heart does break.  [She dies. Then he on the top of the Rock falls headlong into the Sea. Enter Psyche's two Women, and other Attendants, in Funeral habits, weeping; then the Guards. Psyc. 
Oh stop those Royal Fountains, tears are things  
Which ill become the Majesty of Kings.  Thean. 
But they become a Father, who must lose  
The only comfort of his fading life;  
Who barbarously must his Child expose,  
By Heaven's command, to be a Serpent's Wife,  Psyc. 
That dread command I'm ready to obey,  
I beg you will no longer stay.  
Death's cold embraces I will court;  
I can my fate, but not your tears support.  Thean. 
Ye Gods, why did ye ever bless  
Me with this gift, to snatch it back again?  
My burden's greater than I can sustain!  Psyc. 
I never could deserve such tenderness;  
Nay, good Sir, dry your eyes, my heart will break;  
To bear your grief, I am too weak.  Thean. 
Oh that I'd never seen thy much loved face,  
And that thou'dst perished in the womb:  
I had not led thee to this fatal place,  
Thy Father had not brought thee living to thy Tomb.  Psyc. 
Your sad complaints so soften me,  
My heart will melt to that degree,  
That I shall have none left when death I see.  Thean. 
Heaven! what could thus your cruelty provoke?  
Your Altars by my bounty daily smoke.  
With Fat, with Incense, and with Gums;  
Nor have you wanted Hecatombs.  
And must I thus rewarded be?  Cidip. 
See how the Dotard weeps, while we  
Rejoice at this her Destiny.  
Oh how it would my envy feed,  
Could my glad eyes behold her bleed!  Aglau. 
O good dear Serpent, make her sure,  
Her death, our grief can only cure.  
Oh that she were at my command,  
And that her heart were throbbing in my hand.  
Some miracle may else relieve  
Her from this death; and we afresh may grieve.  Psyc. 
Good Sir, be gone, the will of Heaven obey:  
Besides, if you should longer stay,  
Before the Serpent comes, my life will steal away,  
Weigh not your loss, but what you have remain;  
You have the comfort of my Sisters left,  
Who will your drooping age sustain,  
When you're of me bereft.  
Sisters, be good, and to my Father give  
All comfort, and his grief relieve;  
He, from you Two, much pleasure may receive.  Cid. 
Our grief as much as his relief will need.  
Oh that I might with Psyche bleed:  
Did not the God's self-murder hate,  
I would accompany your Fate.  Aglau. 
Oh that the Gods would suffer me.  
To be exchanged for thee!  Psyc. 
Sisters, farewell, pray dry your eyes;  kisses her Sisters. 
I am for you a sacrifice.  
You may your choice of many Princes have,  
When I am cold, forgotten in my Grave.  Thean. 
Gods! can I yet hear this and live?  
Oh take my life, or me my Psyche give.  Psyc. 
Sir, if you longer stay,  
You'll cause my death, not they.  
I on my knees beseech you quit  
This fatal place, and to Heaven's will submit.  
Farewell: 'tis time,  
I now the Rock my fatal Tomb must climb.  
Farewell for ever—  Thean. 
Say not so,  
For I to death will go  
My Soul to morrow shall meet thine below.  [Exeunt all but Psyche. Psyche sola. 
Even now grim death I slightly did esteem,  
With the wrong end o'th'Glass I looked on him;  
Then a far off and little he did seem:  
Now my Perspective draws him near,  
He very big and ugly does appear.  
Away— it is the base false Glass of fear.  Enter Nicander and Polynices. 
Why do you come to see me wretched here?  
What can you hope from her whose death's so near?  Polyn. 
To save your life our lives we will expose.  Psyc. 
Can mortal men the heavenly powers oppose?  Nican. 
What Heaven commands is surely good,  
Heaven has declared 'gainst shedding humane blood.  
Boars, Rams and Bulls will serve Apollo's turn,  
Whilst Gums and Incense on his Altars burn.  
'Tis to the Priests that you are sacrificed.  Psyc. 
I must not hear the Oracle despised.  Nican. 
In vain, 'gainst prejudice we still dispute:  
Our Swords shall this great Oracle confute.  
No Serpent whilst we live shall you embrace,  
Nor any other Rival in this place.  Psyc. 
He carries deadly venom in his breath,  
Which certainly will give you death.  Polyn. 
Cadmus' without Love's aid the Dragon slew;  
Inspired by Love, what cannot Princes do?  Psyc. 
Why for my preservation should you strive?  
For neither my affection e'er could move,  
Though Heaven for that would suffer me to live:  
No Prince on earth could ever make me love.  Nican. 
'Tis time we both of us should die,  
Since we from you no pity can deserve.  
Yet——  
Had we no love for generosity  
Spite of yourself we would your life preserve.  Polyn. 
You have made Rivals thus agree,  
Though could you love, but one could happy be.  
Each will assist the other, and you'll see,  
In spite of Oracles we'll set you free.  Psyc. 
Farewell: I must not hear this blasphemy.  Nican. 
We cannot leave you till you die,  
No Oracle shall that deny.  [The Earth opens, infernal Spirits rise and hurry the Prince away. Two Zephiri descend and take Psyche by each arm and fly into the Clouds with her. Cupid descends a little way, hanging in the air. Cup. 
Be gone, you Rivals of an angry Deity:  
Shall I by insolent Princes rivalled be?  
Shall Mortals for my Psyche strive with me?  
Vulcan make haste, prepare  
My costly Palace for my fair;  
I in that splendid place  
My Love, my Dear, my Psyche will embrace.  [He flies away. Enter Nicander and Polynices. Nican. 
By what Enchantment were we hurried hence?  
Psyche is gone. Let's use all diligence  
Soon to prevent her fate,  
Or we shall come too late.  Polyn. 
We will our much loved Psyche find.  
Or we will leave our hated lives behind.  [Exeunt.  

ACT III.  The Scene is the Palace of Cupid, composed of wreathed Columns of the Corinthian Order; the Wreathing is adorned with Roses, and the Columns have several little Cupids flying about 'em, and a single Cupid standing upon every Capital. At a good distance are seen three Arches, which divide the first Court from the other part of the Building: The middle Arch is noble and high, beautified with Cupids and Festoons, and supported with Columns of the foresaid Order. Through these Arches is seen another Court, that leads to the main Building, which is at a mighty distance. All the Cupids, Capitals and Enrichments of the whole Palace are of Gold. Here the Cyclops are at work at a forge, forging great Vases of Silver. The Music strikes up, they dance, hammering the Vases upon Anvils. After the Dance, Enter Vulcan. Vulcan sings. 
YE bold Sons of Earth, that attend upon Fire,  
Make haste with the Palace, lest Cupid should stay;  
You must not be lazy when Love does require,  
For Love is impatient, and brooks no delay.  
When Cupid you serve, you must toil and must sweat,  
Redouble your blows, and your labour repeat.  
The vigorous young God's not with laziness served,  
He makes all his Vassals their diligence show,  
And nothing from him but with pains is deserved;  
The brisk Youth that falls on, and still follows his blow,  
Is his favourite still. The considerate Fool,  
He as useless lays by for a pitiful Tool.  1. Cycl. 
This Palace is finished, and the other shall be  
Made fit for his small Deity.  2. Cycl. 
But fire makes us choleric, and apt to repine,  
Unless you will give us some Wine.  Chor. 
With swinging great Bowls,  
Let's refresh our dry Souls,  
And then we'll to work with a Clink, clink, clink;  
But first let us drink, but first let us drink.  Vulcan. 
Let each take his Bowl then, and hold it to his nose,  
Then let him redouble his blows.  Cycl. 
Nay, stint us not so, but let each take his two,  
And twice as much than we can do.  Chor. 
With swinging great Bowls,  
Let's refresh, etc.  Vulc. 
Ye Slaves, will you never from drunkenness refrain?  
Remember Ulysses again.  Cycl. 
Ulysses is a Dog, were he here he should find  
we'd scorn him, and drink ourselves blind.  Chor. 
With swinging great Bowls,  
Let's refresh. etc.  [They take their Khans in their hands. Pyra. 
Here, Harps, to you.  Harp. 
Here, Brontes, to you,  
And so take each Cyclops his due.  Bron. 
To thee, Steropes.  Stir. 
Pyraemon, to thee.  Omn. 
And thus in our Cups we'll agree.  Chor. 
With swinging great Bowls,  
Let's refresh, etc.  Vulc. 
Be gone, or great Jove will for Thunder bolts stay,  
The world grows so wicked each day.  Cycl. 
He has less need of Thunder than we have of Wine:  
we'd drink, though great Jove should repine.  Chor. 
With swinging great Bowls,  
Let's refresh, etc.  [The Cyclops dance again. Enter Cupid and Zephyrus, at which they all run away. Cup. 
You are my best of servants, you've done well.  
Say, Zephyrus, how do you like my Love?  Zeph. 
Her Beauty does all mortal forms excel,  
She should be snatched from Earth to reign above▪  
But why do you a humane shape now wear?  
Why will you not yourself a God appear?  Cup. 
At first, invisible I'll be,  
Then like a Prince I will be seen;  
Me like a God when she shall see,  
I'll make her my Immortal Queen.  
When Love thus slily his approaches makes,  
He takes fast hold, and long will stay;  
But if by storm he once possession takes,  
His Empire in the heart will soon decay:  
Here comes my Love Away,  
And to her honour dedicate this day.  [Exeunt Cupid and Zephyrus. Enter Psyche. Psyc. 
To what enchanted Palace am I brought,  
Adorned beyond all humane thought?  
Here Art and Nature's utmost powers conspire,  
To make the Ornament entire.  
Where e'er I turn me, here my dazzled eye  
Does nought but Gold or precious Gems descry:  
This sure is some divine abode,  
The splendid Palace of some God:  
And not a Den where Humane blood is spilled.  
This sure was never for a Serpent built.  
I am at this no less amazed,  
Then at my sudden passage to the place.  
With wonder round about I've gazed,  
And, which is strange, I've seen no humane face.  
'Tis sure some Airy Vision which I see,  
And I to this imaginary height  
Was raised by Heaven in cruelty,  
That I might suffer a severer Fate.  
I on a Precipice of hope was placed,  
That so my fall might greater be,  
And down with violence I shall be cast  
To th'bottom of despair, th'Abyss of misery.  
Where is the Serpent? when will he appear?  Cup. 
The Serpent which you must embrace is near.  Psyc. 
What Divine Harmony invades my ear?  
This is a voice I could for ever hear.  
O speak again, and strike my ravished sense  
With thy harmonious excellence!  
What Power Divine provokes within my blood,  
I know not what, that cannot be withstood?  Cup. 
What ever can be pleasant but in thought,  [within. 
Shall for my Love be sought:  
This shall her Palace, here her Empire be;  
She shall have Sovereign command o'er that and me.  Psyc. 
No object of my sense could e'er  
Transport me till this hour;  
I feel a passion mixed with Joy and Fear,  
That's caused by this unknown invisible Power.  
Who are you that does charm me so?  
〈◊〉 pain and pleasure I ne'er felt before;  
You are by this some God, I know,  
And I must you adore—  [she kneels. Enter Cupid, and takes her up. 
Oh Heaven! what glorious thing is this I see?  
What unknown Deity?  
His shape is humane, but his face divine;  
He calls me Love: but ah! would he were mine.  Cup. 
I am the Serpent Heaven for you designed,  
Which should on you his poison breathe.  Psyc. 
This poison ne'er can cause my death,  
For such a Serpent I would quit Mankind.  
Yours is the pleasantest poison e'er was felt;  
My eyes drop showers of joy, my heart will melt.  
My mind was never full before,  
But now my swelling joys run o'er;  
My heart does pant like a sealed Doves:  
What is it thus my passion moves?  Cup. 
How does my charming fair, my Dove?  
Let me approach my Dear, my Love:  
Let me but touch thy snowy hand,  
And thou shalt all my heart command.  Psyc. 
There's no request of yours I can withstand.  
Oh I am stung! what's this I feel?  
It is no pointed Steel:  
'Tis such a pretty tingling smart,  
Now it invades my heart.  
Oh it increases on me still,  
And now my blood begins to i'll.  
But, Oh the pleasure! Oh the pain!  
And, Oh! might both a thousand years remain!  Cup. 
Courage, my Dove, I have thee here,  embraces her. 
Thou needest no Serpent fear;  
For I am all the Serpents thou shalt see,  
And Love is all the poison I'll infuse in thee.  Psyc. 
What can it be my senses thus alarms?  
What have you done t' your hand that thus it charms?  
But, Oh your powerful eyes bewitch me more,  
I never saw or felt such eyes before.  
Nor know I now what 'tis I feel or see.  [He turns his head aside. 
Turn not away those eyes that poison me.  
Those sweet, those piercing amorous eyes,  
That can so easily a heart surprise.  
Oh, may my breast this poison ne'er forsake!  
I'm sure no Antidote I'll take.  
Why do you sigh? are you transported too?  Cup. 
As you by me, so I am charmed by you.  
Oh let my wandering heart find rest  
Within thy soft and snowy breast.  
Thou must to me thy heart resign,  
And in exchange I'll give thee mine.  
And when my heart within thy breast does sit,  
Thou must be kind, and nurse, and cherish it.  Psyc. 
Oh! how mine flutters; yet I hold it fast,  
It bats till it itself will tire;  
'Twill lose itself with violent desire:  
Do what I can, it will be gone at last.  
Oh give me thine, for mine will fly away;  
Ah give it me! for if you longer stay,  
Mine will be gone, and I shall die.  
Pray let your heart the want of mine supply.  Cup. 
Thou through thy Lips, my Love, must mine receive,  
And the same way thine to my breast convey;  
And when to me that pretty thing thou'lt give,  
I'll use't so kindly, 'tshall not fly away.  Psyc. 
Then take it, for with me itwill not stay.  [They kiss. 
What have I done! I am to blame;  
I blush and feel a secret shame:  
But I feel something which overcomes that sense.  
I'm charmed with so much excellence!  
Some Power Divine thus animates my blood,  
And 'twere a sin if that should be withstood.  
Your sacred form so much does move,  
That I pronounce aloud, I love.  
How am I rap't! what is it thus does force  
My inclination from its proper course?  
I was to love an open enemy;  
But now the more I look on Thee,  
The more I love. My first surprise  
Is heightened still by thy bewitching eyes.  Cup. 
Love's debt was long denied by thee,  
But now h'as paid himself with usury.  Psyc. 
Should I to one I know not be thus kind,  
To one who will, perhaps, unconstant be;  
Pray let me so much favour find,  
To let me know who 'tis has conquered me.  Cup. 
Do not suspect my constancy,  
Believe my sighs, and then trust me.  
Words may be false and full of Art,  
Sighs are the natural language of the heart.  
But, pray beware of curiosity,  
Lest it should ruin Thee and Me.  
You must not yet know who I am;  
I will in time disclose my name.  
I in this Region a vast Empire have,  
Each Prince you've seen compared to me's a Slave.  
To me all Grecian Prince's Tribute owe,  
Which they shall pay to you.  
A thousand Beauties shall be still at hand,  
Waiting for thy command;  
And, without envy, they shall thee adore.  
The pomp which here thou shalt enjoy, is more  
Than e'er was seen in Earthly princes' Courts:  
And pleasures here shall be  
Beyond all mortal Luxury;  
Our Recreations shall be heavenly sports.  
And to such splendid Joys I thee invite,  
As do the Gods on Festivals delight.  
But first thy palate thou shalt satisfy,  
Thy ear shall then be ravished, than thy eye;  
And all thy other Senses thou shalt feast:  
Here thou shalt entertain, and I will be the guest.  This following Song is sung by invisible Singers. 
ALl joy to fair Psyche in this happy place,  
And to our great Master, who her shall embrace:  
May never his Love nor her Beauty decay,  
But be warm as the Spring, and still fresh as the Day.  Chor. 
No Mortals on earth ever wretched could prove,  
If still while they lived, they'd be always in love.  
There's none without Love ever happy can be,  
Without it each Brute were as happy as we.  
The knowledge men boast of does nothing but vex,  
And their wandering Reason their minds does perplex.  
But no Mortals, etc.  
Love's sighs and his tears are mixed with delights,  
But were he still pestered with cares and with frights,  
Should a thousand more troubles a Lover invade,  
By one happy moment they'd fully be paid.  Chor. 
No Mortals, etc.  
Then lose not a moment, but in pleasure employ it,  
For a moment once lost will always be so;  
Your Youth requires Love, let it fully enjoy it,  
And push on your Nature as far as 'twill go.  Chor. 
No Mortals, etc.  Psyc. 
How am I rap't! what pleasures do I find!  
My Love, I have but one request to thee;  
Two Sisters I have left behind,  
I hope my Love will be so kind,  
That they the Witnesses may be  
Of all my pomp and my felicity.  Enter Zephyrus. Cup. 
My Zephyrus is still at hand  
To wait for thy command.  
Be gone—  Zeph. 
I'll fly as quick as thought,  
They suddenly shall to this place be brought.  [Exit Zephyrus. Cup. 
My Dear, let them not here much time employ,  
For I must thy whole heart enjoy.  
From me, my Love, not one poor thought must stray,  
For I have given thee all my heart away.  
But now prepare thy ears and eyes,  
For I thy senses will surprise.  
Along with me, and thou shalt see  
What Miracles in Love there be.  [Exeunt. The Scene changes to the principal Street of the City, with vast numbers of People looking down from the tops of Houses, and out of the Windows and Balconies, which are hung with Tapestry. In this Street is a large Triumphal Arch, with Columns of the Doric Order, adorned with the Statues of Fame and Honour, etc. beautified with Festoons of Flowers; all the Enrichments of Gold. Through this Arch, at a vast distance, in the middle of a Piazza, is seen a stately Obelisk. Enter two Men. 1. Man. 
What shouts are those that echo from the Plain?  2. Man. 
The Stranger Princes have the Monster slain:  
The People the Victorious Champions meet,  
And them with Shouts and Acclamations greet.  1. Man. 
Our freedom these brave Conqueror's have restored;  
The blood of Men no more shall be devoured;  
No more young Ladies shall be snatched away  
To be the cruel Serpent's prey.  2. Man. 
For this the large Triumphal Arch was built,  
For this the joyful People meet in throngs,  
The Prince's Triumph for the blood they spilt,  
And celebrate the Conquest with loud Songs.  
They in this place a Sacrifice prepare,  
To pay their vows and thanks to th' God of War.  [A Consort of loud Martial Music. Enter the Priests of Mars, one carrying the Serpent's Head upon the Spear, all of them having Targets, Breastplates, and Helmets of Brass. Then the Praesul, having a Trophy of Arms carried before him. Then Nicander, Polynices, Cydippe, Aglaura, Train and Guards. The Priests sing this following Song, and dance to't. 
LEt us loudly rejoice,  
With glad heart and with voice;  
For the Monster is dead,  
And here is his head.  
No more shall our Wives  
Be afraid of their lives,  
Nor our Daughters by Serpents miscarry.  
The Oracle then  
Shall bestow them on Men,  
And they not with Monsters shall marry.  
Let us loudly rejoice  
With glad heart and with voice;  
For the Monster is dead,  
And here is his head.  Praesul sings. 
Great God of War to thee  
We offer up our thanks and prayer  
For by thy mighty Deity  
Triumphing Conquerors we are.  Chor. 
Thou'rt great among the heavenly race,  
And only to the Thunderer giv'st place.  Praesul. 
Jove is thy father, but does not exceed  
Thy Deity on any score.  
Thou, when thou wilt, canst make the whole world bleed,  
And then canst heal their breaches by thy power.  Chor. 
'Tis thou that must to Armies give success,  
Thou that must Kingdoms too with safety bless,  
Thou that must bring, and then must guard their peace.  They dance, striking their Swords upon the Targets, showing the postures of their Swords, Kettledrums beating, and Trumpets sounding: Whilst the Praesul and the rest prepare the Altar, and kindle the Fire. After the Dance— Praes. sings. 
While we to Mars his praises sing,  
A Horse, th' appointed Victim, bring.  [Mars and Venus meet in the air in their Chariots, his drawn by Horses, and hers by Doves. Venus sings. 
Great God of War, if thou dost not despise  
The power of my victorious eyes,  
Reject this Sacrifice.  
My Deity they disrespect,  
My Altars they neglect,  
And Psyche only they adore,  
Whom they shall see no more.  
Have I yet left such influence on your heart,  
As to enjoin you would take my part.  
By some known token punish their offence,  
And let them know their insolence,  Mars. 
So much your influence on me remains,  
That still I glory in my chains.  
What ever you command, shall be  
A sovereign Law to me.  
These saucy Mortals soon shall see  
What 'tis to disrespect your Deity.  
To show how much for you I them despise,  
Since they with Venus dare contend,  
Ye powers of Hell your Furies send,  
And interrupt their Sacrifice.  [Mars and Venus fly away. Furies descend and strike the Altar, and break it, and every one flies away with a fire-brandin's hand. 1. Pr. 
What dreadful prodigies are these!  
Hence from his bloody rage let's fly,  
And in his Temple let us try  
If we his angry Godhead can appease.  Nican. 
What Magic Charms do this sad place infest,  
And us in all our actions thus molest?  Polyn. 
The power of Hell itsure must be  
That thus against us wages war;  
For when Fair Psyche we would free,  
It still does mischiefs against us prepare.  
But no Enchantment yet our courage binds,  
No accidents can alter valiant minds.  Nican. 
In spite of Hell we will go on in quest  
Of our loved Psyche, who is charmed from hence.  Aglau. 
You might from all your fruitless toils have rest,  
If of your present fortune youhad a sense.  Cyd. 
Our Father, who is now at point of death,  
Does in his Will us two to you bequeath.  Aglau. 
Envy itself will sure confess,  
Our Beauties and our Virtues are not less,  
Then the mean Idol's you so much adore,  
And whom you never can see more;  
The Monster you have slain did her devour.  Polyn. 
We by his ravenous Maw did find to day,  
The Monster had not yet made her his prey.  Cyd. 
What if he had, we two are left behind,  
And by the Gods you are for us designed.  Nican. 
Heaven has not yet to me revealed that mind,  
My inclinations still are hers I find.  
The honour's great we might by you enjoy,  
But it would all our vows and all our love destroy.  Polyn. 
To Psyche I have offered my whole heart,  
Sh'has for no other left me the least part.  
Pardon that I the honour must refuse;  
No Mortals can their own affections choose;  
Love, heavens' high power does into us infuse.  Nican. 
When we lost Psyche, solemnly we swore,  
The search of her we never would give o'er.  Polyn. 
Should we not find her, we our lives must spend,  
Which in th'unwearied search of her must end.  Aglau. 
Think you with safety you shall us despise?  
Though we're too weak to wound you with our eyes,  
Our full revenge shall both of you pursue,  
And give what to your insolence is due.  Cyd. 
Your heads shall pay for the affront you give,  
And you shall die, or we will cease to live.  Nican. 
If danger could our courages remove,  
We were not fit t'aspire to Psyche's love.  Polyn. 
Our absence now you must excuse,  
We in our search no farther time must lose.  [Exeunt Nican. Polyn. Aglau. 
I have a trusty Villain which I'll send,  
Who in disguise shall their unwary steps attend;  
And then an ambush shall for them be laid,  
That their base lives may be to us betrayed.  Cyd. 
The powers of all this Kingdom we'll engage,  
To sacrifice their lives to our insatiate rage.  Aglau. 
They dearly shall by their example show,  
How soon rejected Love to dangerous Rage can grow.  [Exeunt ambo.  

ACT IU.  The Scene is a stately Garden belonging to the Magnificent Palace, seen in the former Act. The great Walk is bounded on either side with great Statues, Figures of Gold standing on Pedestals, and small sitting at their feet: And in large Vases of Silver are Orange, Lemon, Citron, Pomegranate; and behind Myrtle, Jessemine, and other Trees. Beyond this a noble Arbour, through which is seen a less Walk, all of Cypress-Trees, which leads to another Arbour at a great distance. Enter Aglaura, Cydippe, Psyche with her Train. Aglau. 
ENough the Splendour of your Court we've seen,  
Such ne'er was known by any earthly Queen.  Cyd. 
But we your Conquering Lover would behold,  
Of whom such charming stories you have told.  Psyc. 
Oh! he's the brightest thing your eyes e'er saw;  
Beauty he has might give the whole world Law.  
And then such tender kindness you shall see;  
For he delights in nothing but in me.  
We sport and revel all the day,  
In soft delights melting the hours away.  
And such resistless ways he has to charm.  
We kiss, embrace, and arm in arm,  
With amorous sighs, and soft discourse,  
Our fainting passions still we reinforce.  
When I would speak, my words he does devour;  
And when he speaks, I kiss him o'er and o'er.  
And wh●… from kissing we our lips remove,  
He tells a thousand pretty Tales of Love.  
And all the while his beauty I survey,  
And he so greedily beholds my eyes,  
As he'd devour them. But a moment stay,  
And he will you, as he did me, surprise.  [Exit Psyche. Aglau. 
What cursed Fate is this, that did ordain,  
That she should have such pleasure, we such pain?  
Oh that I had infection in my breath,  
I my own life would lose to give her death.  Cid. 
Base Fortune! that on Psyche would bestow  
So vast a share of happiness,  
And give her elder Sisters so much less,  
That she should be so high, and we so low.  Aglau. 
Such glory yet no Monarch ever saw;  
Such humble Vassals, such obedient awe,  
Such shining Palaces yet ne'er have been,  
Such pomp the Sun in all his progress ne'er has seen.  Cid. 
A thousand Beauties wait for her command,  
As many heavenly Youths are still at hand:  
And to our envious eyes she chose  
These hated objects to expose.  Aglau. 
When we to our great joy believed,  
That she destroyed had been,  
Oh how the Riddling God has us deceived;  
We see her here like some immortal Queen,  
Whom all her Subjects serve not, but adore.  Cid. 
Oh! I shall die with envy: say no more,  
But of some quick revenge let's meditate,  
To interrupt their happy state:  
Let's by some Art cause fatal jealousies  
Between these prosperous Lovers to arise.  Enter Cupid and Psyche, with many Attendants. Aglau. 
They're here: What divine object strikes my eyes?  Cid. 
What heavenly thing does my weak heart surprise?  Aglau. 
Her hated sight I can no longer bear.  Cid. 
Oh with what joy I could her heartstrings tear!  Aglau. 
This is the goodliest Creature Heaven ere made;  
And I will summon Hell up to my aid,  
But I will Psyche's life destroy;  
And I will then this Godlike Youth enjoy.  Cid. 
When I am dead, he may be had by thee:  
But know, Aglaura, I'll ne'er live to see  
This goodly thing enjoyed by any one but me.  Cup. 
Ladies—  
You such a welcome in this place shall find,  
As fits the greatness of your Sister's mind;  
And by your entertainment I will show,  
What I to my loved Psyche owe:  
For her shall Quires of Cupids sing,  
For her the Spheres shall their loud Music bring.  

SONG.  

LEt old Age in its envy and malice take pleasure,  
In business that's sour, and in hoarding up treasure:  
By dulness seem wise, be still peevish and nice;  
And what they cannot follow, let them rail at as vice.   

Wise Youth will in Wine and in Beauty delight,  
Will revel all day, and will sport all the night.  
For never to love, would be never to live,  
And Love must from Wine its new vigour receive.   

How insipid were life without those delights,  
In which lusty hot Youth spend their days and their nights;  
Of our nauseous dull beings we too soon should be cloyed,  
Without those blessed joys which Fools only avoid.   

Unhappy grave Wretches, who live by false measure,  
And for empty vain shadows refuse real pleasure;  
To such Fools while vast joys on the witty are waiting,  
Life's atedious long journey without ever baiting,    
Now see what is to Psyche's beauty due,  
And what th' Almighty power of Love can show:  
These senseless Figures motion shall receive;  
Psyche's bright beams can life to Statues give.  [Ten Statues leap from their Pedestals, and dance. Ten Cupids rise from the Pedestals, strew all the Stage with Flowers, and fly all several ways. During the Dance, Cupid and Psyche retire. Cid. 
With what divine Magnificence  
They in this place treat every sense?  Aglau. 
Excess of Love and Hate disturb my rest,  
Which equally divide my breast.  Cid. 
You may hate her, and other Prince's love;  
But your affection must from him remove,  
Or th'utmost rage of a revengeful Rival prove.  Aglau. 
Mountain's shall sooner leap or fly,  
The Sun may prove inconstant, but not I:  
All my presumptuous Rivals I'll destroy;  
I cannot live, unless I him enjoy.  Cid. 
Then suddenly resign your hated breath;  
You shall not live to cause my death.  
Your fruitless Love shall soon be lost.  
You to your elder Sister shall give place,  
For I will this Celestial Youth embrace,  
Tho' it the lives of half the world should cost.  Aglau. 
The power of Hell shall ne'er change my design;  
I would a thousand Lives before one Love resign.  Cid. 
But Psyche's Life and Love must have an end,  
Or we in vain for him contend.  
What e'er against each other we design,  
Against the common Enemy let's join.  Aglau. 
Should we kill her, it would provoke his hate,  
And on ourselves pull down a certain Fate.  
Let's poison them with jealousy;  
And Lovers had much better die,  
Then suffer that extremity.  Enter Psyche. Psyc. 
Now Sisters! how do you approve my Dear?  Cid. 
You are secure: but give us leave to fear.  Psyc. 
Fear not: you are in my protection now.  Aglau. 
We fear not for ourselves, but you.  Psyc. 
For me! I am so full of joy,  
That nothing can my happiness destroy.  
I have my Love, and that's enough for me.  
My life is one continued Ecstasy.  
His love to me is infinite,  
Each moment does transcend  
Ages of of common gross delight,  
For which dull sensual men so much contend.  Cid. 
Why does he still conceal his name?  
It argues little love, or else much shame.  Psyc. 
You cannot doubt his love, he is so kind;  
Envy in him no cause of shame can find:  
What need I care who 'tis I love.  
Since all that see him must my choice approve.  Aglau. 
This violent Love may soon decay,  
And he for some new Mistress may  
Your easy heart betray.  Cid. 
When he shall please to frown,  
You from this height are suddenly thrown down:  
And when he thus shall have abandoned you,  
On whom will you inflict the vengeance due?  Psyc. 
Could I this fatal change survive,  
I sure should be the wretched'st thing alive.  Aglau. 
True Love has no reserve, this is some cheat;  
Your wisdom's small, though your affection's great.  Cid. 
th'Impostor does by Magic Art surprise!  
And this is all delusion of our eyes.  
The Miracles each moment does produce,  
Sufficiently may make this clear;  
Your Lover does no Natural Causes use.  
All Nature's Order is inverted here.  Aglau. 
You see that his Attendants are  
The winged Spirits of the Air.  
He's sure some Daemon, which commands the Winds,  
And him the Clouds obey:  
How easily may he delude our minds,  
Wh'our bodies can by Winds and Clouds convey.  
This must be some enchanted place.  Cid. (aside.) 
Let him be what he will, I'll him embrace.  (To her.) 
How soon may Fate your seeming Heaven destroy,  
Which like a dream reflects imaginary Joy.  Psyc. 
Oh I am seized with an unusual fright,  
A sudden stop is put to my delight.  Aglau. 
This still may be the Serpent you did fear,  
Tho' with a humane shape he cheats your eyes;  
And Heaven by this more cruel will appear,  
After this Joy to ruin by surprise.  Cid. 
In wrath the Oracle thy doom declared,  
Here no effects we of its anger fee:  
Thou know'st not yet what ruin is prepared;  
What dreadful Fate Heaven does reserve for thee.  Psyc. 
How I'm amazed! Oh my poor trembling heart!  Enter Zephyrus. Zeph. 
My Lord commands your Sisters must depart,  
And none must his commands deny.  Aglau. 
What is't I hear! I die, I die.  Cid. 
But if I die, I will not die alone;  
She shall not here remain when I am gone.  Aglau. 
Hold! take me with thee in thy brave design;  
I'll in the noble execution join.  [Both offer to stab at Psyche, as she look another way, and as snatched away by Zephiri. Psyc. 
Ah! what unwelcome change is this I see?  
Must they so suddenly be snatched from me?  Enter Cupid. Cup. 
Now let's enjoy ourselves, the time invites;  
True Love alone in privacy delights.  
What is't disturbs my Psyche's mind?  
What fatal change is this I find?  
Such a black storm me thinks hangs on thee now,  
As I have seen upon the Morning's brow;  
Which blushing first had promised a fair day,  
But straight did nought but dark-swoln Clouds display.  
Is it your Sister's absence makes you grieve?  
All such relations you should now forget;  
Lovers should for each other only live,  
And having one another should have no regret.  Psyc. 
So small a thing cannot afflict my mind.  Cup. 
'Tis for some Rival than your griefs designed.  Psyc. 
This mean suspicion proves my Lord unkind!  
Ah! did your charms but to yourself appear,  
You'd know that I no other chains could wear.  
No Rhetoric can paint my Love's excess,  
Ere mine can be described, it must be less.  Cup. 
I love thee too at such a rate,  
No Mertal can approach my height.  
What is it can produce thy grief?  Psyc. 
I fear you'll not afford it your relief  Cup. 
If thou by any thing my wrath couldst move,  
'T would be by thy suspicion of my love.  
Thou o'er my heart art grown so absolute,  
That no commands of thine I can dispute:  
Thou of thy power know'st not the large extent;  
To ease thy doubt, make an experiment.  Psyc. 
No: I shall find a harsh repulse, I fear.  Cup. 
By thy victorious eyes,  
Which govern now the heart they did surprise;  
By th'Gods inviolable Oath I swear,  
By Styx, all thy commands shall be to me  
Sacred, as heavens' decree.  Psyc. 
I with these amorous vows am doubly pleased,  
I am of half my grief already eased.  
By this all fear of coldness you remove,  
And then you'll tell me now, who 'tis I love.  Cup. 
Heaven!  [Starts. Psyc. 
'Tis fit that I who did great Kings refuse,  
Should know who is the charming Youth I choose.  Cup. 
What do I hear?  Psyc. 
'Tis true I love, and glory in my chains;  
But to complete my joys, it yet remains,  
That thou, my Love, wouldst thy dear name expose,  
And my illustrious choice to me disclose.  
Why dost thou frown? thou must my doubts secure,  
I by my Love and by this Kiss conjure,  
If thou dost love me, this assurance give:  
'Tis Love, my Dear, makes me inquisitive.  
Thou shouldst all secrets to my breast resign,  
Besides, thouhast sworn this is no longer thine.  Cup. 
I've sworn; and, if you will, I must comply:  
But then thy fatal curiosity  
Inevitably ruins Thee and Me.  Psyc. 
Is this my sovereign Empire over thee?  Cup. 
You must what e'rs within my power command;  
But your extravagant desires withstand:  
Unless you will abandon him you love,  
And will for ever from my sight remove.  Psyc. 
You found a heart too ready to believe,  
And would you still that poor weak heart deceive?  Cup. 
Must I my fatal secret then resign?  Psyc. 
Can you keep back your heart, and yet take mine?  Cup. 
Consider yet what 'tis you do.  Psyc. 
I feared I should be thus refused by you.  Cup. 
Let me not yet my name declare.  Psyc. 
Oh unkind Youth! thou mak'st me now despair,  
That thou'lt reward my love, or ease my care.  Cup. 
Consider yet, and let me hold my peace.  Psyc. 
Will your unkind denials never cease?  Cup. 
Know then, myself a God I must declare,  
Whom all the other Deities obey:  
All things in Earth, Hell, Water, Air,  
Must to my Godhead their devotion pay.  
I am the God of Love, whom, to thy cost,  
Thy foolish curiosity has lost.  
By this thou dost my Love to Anger turn,  
And must in fatal desolation mourn.  
I from thy once loved eyes must fly;  
For 'tis ordained by cruel destiny,  
Which rules o'er all the Gods and me,  
That for thy folly I should thus abandon Thee.  Cupid flies away. The Garden and Palace vanish, and Psyche is left alone in a vast Desert, upon the brink of a River in Marish, full of Willows, Flags, Bulrushes, and Water-flowers; beyond which is seen a great open Desert. Psyc. 
Oh! whether art thou fled, my Dear?  
Why hast thou left me here?  
Of all my glorious pomp I am bereft,  
And in despair am in a Desert left.  
Oh my misfortune! Oh my crime!  
I loved a God, and was adored by him.  
Myself I banished, and am left forlorn,  
A fatal subject of injurious scorn;  
A scorn to all the Princes I've refused,  
By my own folly I myself abused.  
Yet sure the God is much unkind,  
To fly himself, yet leave his power behind.  
My Love remains still to increase my Care,  
And heighten all the torments of Despair.  [Psyche retires to the River side. Enter Aglaura, Cidippe, with a Soldier. Sould. 
We of your Royal Father are bereft,  
Who you the heirs of this great Kingdom left.  
So much he for the loss of Psyche grieved,  
That he by death his fatal grief relieved.  Aglau. 
But are not yet the Rival Princes slain?  Sould. 
We have not followed your commands in vain;  
The Princes are in sight upon the Plain:  
In quest of Psyche they each path will trace,  
And their unwearied search will bring them to this place.  
So many of us here in ambush lie,  
As soon as they approach us, they shall die.  Cid. 
Be gone, we largely will reward your loyalty.  [Exit Soldier. 
How luckily did Zephyras convey  
Us to this Desert, where we may,  
To our great pleasure, standing by,  
Behold these insolent Rivals die.  Aglau. 
Since of all hopes of Love we are bereft,  
Revenge is all the pleasure we have left.  
Oh my blessed eyes behold you face;  
Psyche is thrown upon this desert place.  Cid. 
With pleasure I my sufferings embrace,  
Since her an equal sufferer I find.  
Is all your splendid Pomp to this declind?  
Fate did your Palace to a Desert turn,  
And you for all your arrogance shall mourn.  Psyc. 
Am I the object of my Sister's sooth?  
Ah, had I there your fatal ever ne'er see,  
I still had prosperous in my Palace been.  
You urged that curiosity,  
Which brought this dreadful ruin upon me.  Aglau. 
How well did our first Artifice succeed,  
She like a Prince when he's deposed should bleed.  Cid. 
Under our power you now a Slave remain;  
Our Father's dead, and has left us to Reign.  Psyc. 
No: a more glorious Fate for me's designed,  
Since he is gone, I'll not stay long behind.  Aglau. 
She shall not if she would;  
We to be safe must shed her blood.  Cid. 
Her with her Lover's Heads we'll first surprise,  
Then to our rage her life well sacrifice.  [Exit Aglaura and Cidippe, smiling o●… Psyche. Psyc. 
No longer these misfortunes I'll endure;  
Of all such wounds, death is the sovereign cure.  
In this deep Stream that softly by does glide,  
All my misfortunes and my faults I'll hide.  [She offers to throw herself into the River. The God of the River arises upon a seat of Bulrushes and Reeds, leaning upon an Urn. The Naiads round about him. The God sings. 
STay, stay, this act will much defile my Streams:  
With a short patience suffer these extremes.  
Heaven has for thee a milder Fate in store,  
The time shall be when thou shalt weep no more.  
And yet fair Psyche ne'er shall die.  1. Nymph. 
She ne'er shall die.  2. Nymph. 
She ne'er shall die.  Chor. 
She ne'er shall die:  
But shall be crowned with Immortality.  
But shall be, etc.  The God sings again. 
Venus' approaches, from her anger fly;  
More troubles yet your constancy must try▪  
But th'happy minute will ere long arrive,  
That will to you eternal freedom give.  
And yet fair Psyche ne'er shall die.  1. Nymph. 
She ne'er shall die.  2. Nymph. 
She ne'er shall die.  Chor. 
She ne'er shall die.  
But shall be crowned with Immortality.  
But shall be, etc.  Psyc. 
I need not fly, I have done no offence,  
I'm strongly guarded by my Innocence.  Venus descends in her Chariot. Ven. 
Dares Psyche before me appear?  
From my dread wrath you scorn to fly:  
'Tis Impudence, not Constancy.  
I'll bend your stubborn heart, and make you fear.  Psyc. 
Dread Goddess! how have I  
Provoked so your unwonted cruelty?  Venus. 
You did usurp my Honours, men to you▪  
Did give that Worship which to me was due:  
For you they did my Deity despise,  
And would have raised up Altars to your Eyes.  Psyc. 
Is Beauty then (heavens' gift) a fault in me?  
It is a fault I cannot help, you see.  Ven. 
Your Pride did first all Earthly Kings refuse,  
And then my Son, a God, must choose.  
How durst you thus my heavenly Race abuse?  Psyc. 
Against all Kings he hardened my poor heart,  
And for himself he struck me with his Dart:  
His Beauty would make hearts of stone to melt;  
And his almighty power yourself have felt.  Ven. 
Dare you with me expostulate?  
I'll make you feel the worst effects of hate:  
My power you fatally shall know,  
And for your insolence to Hell shall go.  [Venus flies away. Enter Nicander and Polynices. Nican. 
How long shall we our search pursue,  
Without all hope that we shall Psyche find?  Polyn. 
Each day our weary labour we renew,  
And all our life must be for that designed.  Nican. 
What happy Vision does salute my eyes!  Polyn. 
It must be Psyche's face that can so much surprise.  Nican. 
At length the joy of both our lives is found;  
Blessed Fate! that brought us to this sacred ground!  Polyn. 
Oh Divine Psyche! you're at length restored;  
We will defend you now from future harms.  Nican. 
Now we have found the Goddess we adored,  
We will protect her against all Hell's charms.  Psyc. 
Oh come not near, Heaven does not me restore;  
I have committed an unknown offence,  
For which I must be snatched from hence,  
And, Princes! I shall never see you more.  [Furies rise, and then descend with Psyche. Nican. 
Oh cruel Fate!  Polyn. 
Oh my cursed Stars!  Enter Soldier. Sould. 
Fall on, fall on—  Enter Soldiers, who lay in ambush, and fall upon the Princes, who kill four or five of them, the rest fly. Nican. 
This from the envious Sisters must proceed.  Polyn. 
'Tmust be their stratagem to make us bleed  Nican. 
Why should we thus our lives defend,  
Since Psyche we've for ever lost.  Polyn. 
'Tis fit our hated lives should end,  
But not that Slaves should of the victory boast.  Nican. 
I am resolved I'll not this loss survive.  Polyn. 
Nor should you think I am so tame to live.  Nican. 
Let's hand in hand go plunge into the deep,  
There all our sorrows may for ever sleep.  Polyn. 
Agreed: and our immortal Souls shall that way go,  
And meet our much loved Psyche down below.  [They arm in arm fling themselves into the River. Enter Aglaura and Cidippe, with Soldier. Aglau. 
Villain, what Cowards did you entertain,  
That two weak men could not by you be slain?  Cid. 
Oh Heaven! the Princes are with Psyche fled.  
Base Slave! thou hast forfeited thy head.  [Soldier runs out. Cupid descends. Cup. 
Oh envious Fools, that Psyche thus pursue!  
You both shall soon a deserved vengeance find;  
Hell's everlasting pangs to you are due,  
Since she is gone, you shall not stay behind.  
'Gainst Psyche you provoked my Mother's rage,  
And your destruction must my wrath assuage.  
When from below my Psyche shall return,  
You with damned Spirits shall for ever mourn.  
Arise ye Furies, snatch 'em down to Hell.  
No place becomes such envious Hags so well.  [Aglaura and Cidippe sink.  

ACT V.  The Scene represents Hell, consisting of many burning Ruins of Buildings on each side: In the foremost Pieces are the Figures of Prometheus and Sisyphus, Ixion and Tantalus. Beyond those are a great number of Furies and Devils, tormenting the Damned. In the middle arise; the Throne of Pluto, consisting of Pillars of Fire; with him, Proserpina; at their feet sit Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus. With the Throne of Pluto arise a great number of Devils and Furies, coming up at every rising about the House. Through the Pillars of Pluto's Throne, at a great distance, is seen the Gate of Hell, through which a Lake of Fire is seen; and at a huge distance, on the farther side of that Lake, are vast Crowds of the Dead, waiting for Charon's Boat. The following Song is sung by Furies and Devils. 
TO what great distresses proud Psyche is brought?  
Oh the brave mischiefs our malice has wrought!  
Such Actions become the black Subjects of Hell,  
Our great Prince of Darkness who e'er will serve well,  Chor. 
Must to all Mortals, nay, Gods show their spite,  
And in horror and torments of other's delight.  
How cool are our flames, and how light are our chains,  
If our craft or our cruelty Souls enough gains:  
In perpetual houling and groans we take pleasure,  
Our joys by the torments of others we measure.  Chor. 
To rob Heaven of the Fair is our greatest delight,  
To darkness seducing the Subjects of Light.  
How little did Heaven of its Empire take care,  
To let Pluto take the Rich, Witty, and Fair:  
While it does for itself Fools and Monsters preserve,  
The Blind, Ugly and Poor, and the Cripple reserve.  Chor. 
Heaven all the worst Subjects for itself does prepare,  
And leaves all the best for the Prince of the Air.  [A Dance of Furies. Cidip. 
Some ease they find i'th'midst of pain,  
When Hell does a new Subject gain.  Aglau. 
But in the hottest flames this sight would please,  
And Psyche's howling will our greatest torments ease.  Cid. 
Were mine the hottest Furnace of all Hell,  
If she were there, my flames I could bear well.  Aglau. 
Were I into some dreadful Cavern tossed,  
Where the Damned are bound in eternal Frost;  
Where gnashing teeth and shuddering they lie,  
Cursing their births, wishing in vain to die:  
To see her there would warm my icy chain,  
And her extreme damnation thaw my pain.  Cidip. 
But Oh our Hell is yet to come!  
With horror I expect my doom.  Aglau. 
There our eternal Judges are,  
By their stern looks of mercy I despair.  Psyc. 
Does my too criminal Love deserve this pain?  
Circled with horror must I here remain?  
Through thousand terrors I have been conveyed,  
With dismal yell, shricks and groans dismayed:  
O'er troubled Billows of eternal Fire,  
Where tortured Ghosts must howl, and ne'er expire:  
Where Souls ne'er rest, but feel fresh torments still,  
Where furious Fiends their utmost rage fulfil;  
Tossing poor howling Wretches too and fro,  
From raging Fires into eternal Snow.  
From thence to Flames, from thence to Ice again,  
In these extremes th'encounter equal pain,  
And no refreshing intervals can gain.  
The cursed Fiends still laughing at their moans,  
Hugging themselves to hear their shricks and groans;  
Upbraiding them with all their Crimes on earth.  
Each miserable Ghost curses in vain his birth.  
Encompassed with these horrors round.  
No beam of comfort have I found.  
Oh cruel Venus! wilt thou ne'er relent?  
Canst thou of Love such an Example make?  
Can Love deserve such punishment?  
Oh cruel God, thus to forsake  
Me at the moment when I need him most!  
I fear he is for ever lost.  
I could endure the horrors of this place,  
Could I again behold his much loved face.  Pluto sings. 
REfrain your tears, you shall no prisoner be;  
Beauty and Innocence in Hell are free:  
They're Treasons, Murders, Rapes and Thefts that bring  
Subjects to th' infernal King.  
You are no Subject of this place,  
A God you must embrace.  
From Hell to Heaven you must translated be,  
Where you shall live and love to all eternity.  Proserp. 
Psyche, draw near: with thee this Present take,  
Which given to Venus, soon thy peace will make:  
Of Beauty, 'tis a Treasury Divine,  
And you're the Messenger she did design.  
Lost Beauty this will soon restore,  
And all defects repair:  
Mortals will now afresh her Beams adore,  
And ease her mind of jealousy and care.  
No Beauty that has this can e'er despair.  Pluto. 
Here are your Sisters, who your life once sought:  
Their malice to this place has Psyche brought,  
And against her all these dire mischiefs wrought.  
For ever here they shall remain,  
And shall in Hell suffer eternal pain.  
But Psyche shall a Deity embrace.  Proserp. 
Be gone, fair Psyche!  Pluto. 
Be gone, fair Psyche!  Both. 
Be gone fair Psyche, from this place!  Chor. of all. 
For Psyche must the God of Love embrace.  
For Psyche must the God of Love embrace.  Aglau. 
O mercy, mercy, Sister, we implore;  
You'll intercede for a reprieve.  Cidip. 
No more our malice can fair Psyche grieve;  
You'll be a Goddess, we must you adore.  Minos. 
No grace for you she shall obtain,  
For you must here remain.  
Yet for her sake we'll ease you of some pain.  
No raging pangs of sense here you shall know,  
But must eternal labours undergo;  
And with the Belides for ever live,  
Still shall wish death, but never die;  
Each of you must draw water in a Seive  
To all eternity.  [The envious Sisters sink, with all the Devils and Furies, and the Throne of Pluto vanishes. Psyc. 
In vain, poor Sisters, I deplore your Fate!  
Though living you pursued me with your hate:  
'Tis a dark Cloud upon my happiness.  
But I ll strive to forget what's past redress.  
Were't not for this, my Joys I could not bear.  
Immoderate joy would overthrow,  
Were it not ballasted with care.  
My Love! I shall enjoy thee now,  
Together we shall happy be,  
And live and love to all eternity!  Enter the Ghosts of Polynices and Nicander. [Psyche starts. 
This was a dismal Tragedy.  
These are the Prince's Ghosts we see:  
Oh what sad chance has brought you down to me.  Nicand. 
We felt the extremes of love and grief,  
Which never could have found relief:  
And hand in hand we plunged into the deep,  
To seek repose by deaths last sleep.  Polyn. 
Since you were lost, to ease us of our care,  
We both obeyed a generous despair:  
For since we could not live for you,  
Our miserable lives we could not bear.  
To all th'insipid World we bade adieu,  
Since nothing that remained could please us there.  Nicand. 
Death we enjoyed, and heavy life removed,  
For we in death behold your charms again:  
Those charms which both in life and death we loved,  
Which we had sighed and wept for there in vain.  Psyc. 
Poor Ghosts! why would you suffer for my sake?  
In vain too was your death designed,  
Now I no recompense can make;  
And then by force I was ungrateful and unkind:  
Could I have loved, your merits were so much,  
Your equal greatness and your virtues such:  
I ne'er had fixed my choice on one of you,  
But must eternally have wavered betwixt two.  [She weeps. Nicand. 
Who would not willingly resign his breath,  
Who by a glorious death,  
The honour of your tears might gain?  Polyn. 
I cannot now of Fate complain,  
Nor would with tedious fools above remain.  
Nor can your pity now or love implore.  
Since you from hence must mount above.  
And must embrace th'all powerful God of love,  
And at an humble distance we must you adore.  Nicand. 
Nor can we you of cruelty accuse,  
Who for a God all mortal Kings refuse.  Polyn. 
Farewell: our Destiny recalls us now,  
And we t'immortal happiness should go,  
If without you it could be so.  Psyc. 
Stay, Princes! and declare where, and what it is,  
This everlasting place of Bliss?  Nicand. 
In cool sweet Shades, and in immortal Groves,  
By Crystal Rivulets, and eternal Springs;  
Where the most beauteous Queens and greatest Kings,  
Do celebrate their everlasting Loves.  Polyn. 
In ever peaceful, fresh, and fragrant Bowers,  
Adorned with never fading Fruits and Flowers;  
Where perfumed Winds refresh their heat,  
And where immortal Quires their Loves repeat.  
There your great Father we have seen,  
Where he afresh enjoys his beauteous Queen.  Nicand. 
Who did for hopeless Loves themselves destroy,  
Are there the greatest Hero's far;  
Your God with infinite and endless joy,  
Rewards their meritorious despair.  Polyn. 
Each moment there does far outgo  
The happiest minute Earthly Lovers know.  
With soft eternal Chains of Love combined,  
There they are ever youthful, ever kind:  
Their endless pleasure is all Ecstasy,  
And not like Earthly Joys, disturbed with care;  
Each fruitful minute does new pleasures bear:  
From all unwelcome interruption free;  
Each moment there more pleasure is designed,  
Then mortal Lovers can, when first united, find.  Psyc. 
'Tis fit that you those glorious Crowns should wear,  
Of Friends and Rivals, the unequalled pair.  Nicand. 
The splendid Crowns of Lovers we've received,  
But are by Heaven of you bereaved.  
Strangers to Love we are alone;  
Our Love is up to Adoration grown:  
Our hours in contemplation we'll employ,  
Of the transcendent glory which you share;  
Our amorous sighs shall turn to holy prayer;  
While we that Friendship, which you made, enjoy.  Polyn. 
For ever without you we must remain.  
And now we must no longer stay,  
Lest we contribute to your pain,  
And your immortal happiness delay.  
Farewell for ever, and remember me.  Nicand. 
Farewell for ever, and remember me.  [Ex. Nic. & Pol Psyc. 
Farewell! such Friends and Rivals ne'er were found.  
How much am I by Love and Honour bound?  [Exit Psyche. The Scene changes to the Marish which was in the former Act. Enter Psyehe. Psyc. 
These Lovers must for ever in my thoughts remain;  
And would for ever give me pain,  
Did not the thoughts of him my mind employ,  
who'll banish all my cares, and will complete my joy.  
But ah! my sufferings have transformed me so,  
My decayed face and languid eyes;  
My ruined Beauty He'll not know,  
Or if he does, he will my looks despise.  
But I have here a Sacred Treasury,  
Which all my ruins may repair;  
Since it can make Venus herself more fair,  
Is't an offence if it be used by me?  [She opens the Box. 
Oh! what dark fumes oppress my clouded brain!  
I go, and never shall return again.  
Farewell, my Love, for ever fare thee well.  [She swounds. Cupid descends. Cup. 
Love o'er my anger has the victory gained;  
Thy pardon is at length obtained:  
Thy dangers and thy sufferings I have known,  
My Love has made them all my own:  
With thee I languished with thee did complain,  
With thee I sighed and wept, and suffered all thy pain.  
Why dost thou hide thy conquering eyes?  
Dost thou a Lover and a God despise?  
Open thy pretty eyes, I am still the same,  
I still retain my unresisted flame;  
And all my vows are still paid to thy sacred name.  
She's, she's dead! O whether art thou gone?  
O Tyrant death! what has thy bold hand done?  
O cruel Mother! whose insatiate rage  
Could thee against such innocence engage?  
Thou hast by this all ties of duty broke;  
No longer I'll endure thy yoke:  
My filial duty to revenge shall turn,  
You soon shall feel what to my power you owe;  
With hopeless Love you shall for ever burn,  
Your unregarded pains no ease shall know:  
You still shall rage with love, and to despair shall bow.  Venus descends in her Chariot. Ven. 
What insolence is this I hear?  
This from a Son I can no longer bear.  
Resume your duty, and put on your fear.  Cup. 
Duty to her, who has made Psyche die?  
Revenge shall piety succeed,  
Revenge shall make your cruel heart to bleed.  
And by your torments you shall find that I  
Am much the greater Deity.  Ven. 
Sure the great Thunderer asleep does lie,  
Or does not hear this blasphemy.  Cup. 
My power can make the thunderer bow;  
You all the dire effects of it shall know.  
For thee, dear Psyche, full revenge I'll take,  
And of my Mother first I'll the example make.  
What hellish rage provoked you to this deed?  
Whom Monsters would have spared, you have made bleed.  Ven. 
You suffered her my glory to invade;  
And when I called Apollo to my aid,  
You did the fraudulent God suborn▪  
For you he that ambiguous Riddle made,  
And promised judgement did to mercy turn;  
And by that Oracle I was betrayed.  
Now to deceive me is beyond his power,  
Not all his Art can make her live one hour;  
For none but I could Psyche's life restore.  Cup. 
Can you? Oh do, and punish me;  
If there were any crime, 'twas mine,  
For her I'd lose my immortality.  
Oh give me her, I'll all my power resign.  
Here take my Quiver, take my Darts;  
You when you please shall rule all hearts:  
You shall the power of Love to that of Beauty join.  Ven. 
Psyche and you have so provoked my hate,  
Your prayers as soon may alter Fate.  Cup. 
Behold the all-commanding Deity,  [Kneels. 
An humble suppliant on his knee!  
Look on my Love! can you this form destroy?  
Oh my loved Psyche! Oh my only Joy!  
Oh give me her! my duty I'll retain,  
Your Son for ever shall your humblest Slave remain!  Ven. 
I must be gone, you sigh and beg in vain.  Cup. 
Oh hear my prayers! do not my tears despise;  
Behold the humble offerings of my eyes.  
If ever yet true grief you've felt,  
Your Marble heart will at this object melt.  
Ah think what pity to your Son is due!  
Think but what wonders he has wrought for you!  
How many hearts he has wounded for your sake!  
Remember this, and then some pity take.  Ven. 
No more for her will I neglected be,  
Nor will I be afronted more by thee:  
I'll be revenged on all your insolence,  
And with eternal death I'll punish her offence.  Cup. 
Oh cruel Murderess! I will take her part,  
And will revenge myself upon your heart;  
Against your breast I'll sharpen every Dart.  
You in despair shall languish and decay:  
Those feeble charms you've left shall fly away.  
Languid shall be your looks, and weak your eyes,  
Your former Worshippers shall your faint Beams despise!  
No Lover more youe'r shall gain,  
I will be deaf, when ever you complain;  
Without Love's power, all Beauty is but vain.  
Its seeming Essence Beauty does derive  
Only from the reflection which Love makes  
Like that—  
Which from reflected light a colour takes.  
The Body does no being to it give.  
Tremble at my revenge, for well you know,  
What I by my resistless power can do.  Ven. 
Farewell you insolent and daring Boy:  
A living Psyche you shall ne'er enjoy.  [She mounts her Chariot, and flies away. Cup. 
Oh cruel Mother! do not fly;  
Oh think how great must be that misery,  
Makes an Immortal Being wish to die.  
Spite of myself I must for ever live,  
And without her eternally must grieve:  
You I conjure by all the heavenly Race,  
By all the pleasure of each stolen embrace;  
By the most ravishing moment of delight  
You ever had, free from your Husband's sight,  
By all the joys of day, and raptures of the night,  
Return, return.  [Venus being almost lost in the Clouds, Cupid flies up and gets into her Chariot, and brings her back. 
Do but my Psyche's life restore,  
And I will never ask you more:  
Do it, and all your pleasures I'll renew,  
And add a thousand which you never knew.  Ven. 
At length your sad complaints have softened me—  
Psyche shall live—  Cup. 
Oh Heaven!  Ven. 
But not for thee;  
Nature returns, and I forgive my Boy.  
Restored you her shall see, but never shall enjoy.  Cup. 
What dreadful words are these I hear!  Jupiter appears upon his Eagle. 
But lo! the mighty thunderer does appear,  
To him your cruelty I will reveal:  
To the great jupiter I now appeal.  
Soul of the World, I beg you'll do me right,  
Against my savage Mother's rage and spite.  jup. 
Goddess of Beauty, you must gentle grow,  
And your severe Decree recall;  
T'almighty Love the Universe must bow,  
And without him must to confusion fall:  
On Earth no Prince, in Heaven no Deity,  
Is from his powerful Sceptre free.  
Do not the God of Union provoke,  
Lest Heaven and Earth feel his revenging stroke.  
Should he the utmost of his rage employ,  
He might the frame o'th' Universe destroy.  Ven. 
Should he a Mortal for his Wife embrace,  
And by this hated Match blemish my heavenly Race.  jup. 
Psyche to him shall equal be,  
She is no Mortal, she shall never die;  
For I will give her Immortality.  Ven. 
This puts a happy end to all our strife.  
Psyche, arise: from seeming death return,  
And with my Son enjoy immortal life,  
Where you shall ever love, and never mourn.  [Psyche revives. Psyc. 
Who is it calls me from deaths silent night,  
And makes me thus revisit light?  
Oh Gods, am I again blessed with thy sight!  Cup. 
For ever both your Godheads I'll adore,  
Who did my Psyche to my arms restore,  
Nor Hell nor Heaven shall make me quit thee more.  Psyc. 
Do I again view thy Celestial face!  Cup. 
Do I again my Dear, my Love embrace!  jup. 
Come, happy Lovers, you with me shall go,  
Where you the utmost Joys of Love shall know:  
Amongst the Gods I Psyche will translate,  
And they shall these blessed Nuptials celebrate:  
In honour to them, I will summon all  
The powers of Heaven to keep a Festival.  The Scene changes to a Heaven. In the highest part is the Palace of Jupiter; the Columns and all the Ornaments of it of Gold. The lower part is all filled with Angels and Cupids, with a round open Temple in the midst of it. This Temple is just before the Sun, whose Beams break fiercely through it in divers places: Below the heavens', several Semicircular Clouds, of the breadth of the whole House, descend. In these Clouds sit the Musicians, richly Habited. On the front Cloud sits Apollo alone. While the Musicians are descending, they play a Symphony, till Apollo begins, and sings as follows. Apollo sings. Apollo. 
ASsemble all the Heavenly Choir,  
And let the God of Love inspire  
Your hearts with his Celestial Fire.  
The God of Love's a happy Lover made,  
His ravishing delights shall never fade.  Chorus of Apollo's, followers with flageolets and Recorders. 
With his Immortal Psyche He  
Now tastes those joys which ought to be  
As lasting as Eternity.  Apollo. 
Come, Lover's, from the Elysian Groves,  
And celebrate these heavenly Loves.  [A Symphony of Pipes, then Enter six Princes of Elysium, with six Ladies. Apollo. 
Bacchus with all your jolly Crew,  
Come revel at these Nuptials too.  [A Symphony of Oboe: then enter Bacchus, with the Maenades and Aegipanes. Apollo. 
Come all ye winged Spirits of the skies,  
And all ye mighty Deities.  [A Symphony of Recorders. Cupid's and Spirits descend, hanging in the Skies, Gods and Goddesses in Chariots and Clouds. Apollo. 
You all his humble Vassals are,  
And in his joy should have a share.  Chor. 
With his immortal Psyche he  
Now tastes, etc.  1. Elysian Lover sings a Treble. 
On Earth by unkindness are often destroyed  
The delights in the Nymphs who are so much adored;  
Or else the poor Lovers by kindness are cloyed,  
So faint are the pleasures their Love does afford.  2. Treble. 
With sighs and with tears,  
With jealousies, griefs, and with fears,  
The wretched poor Lover is tossed,  
For a few moment's pleasure his liberty's lost.  3. Treble. 
How short are those moments, yet how few they employ!  
Ah how short! ah how short is the joy!  2. Treble. 
Ah how short! ah how short is the joy!  1. Treble. 
Ah how short! ah how short is the joy!  Chorus of three Trebles to the Recorder, Organ, and Harpsicals. 
Thus wretched Mankind does suffer below,  
And in Heaven each Godhead to Cupid does bow;  
But Love, Love, was ne'er perfect till now.  [A Symphony of soft Music of all the Instruments. Then jupiter descends in a Machine, with Cupid on one side, and Psyche on the other. Then a Dance of six Elysian Princes gloriously habited. Mars sings to a Warlike Movement. 
Behold the God, whose mighty power  
We all have felt, and all adore;  
To him I all my Triumphs owe,  
To him my Trophies I must yield:  
He makes victorious Monarchs bow,  
And from the conqueror gains the Field.  Chorus to Trumpets, Kettle drum's, Flutes, & Warlike Music. 
He turns all the horrors of War to delight,  
And were there no Love, no Heroes would fight.  [A Returnello by Martial Instruments, etc. Mars. 
Honour to Battle spurs them on,  
Honour brings Power when War is done:  
But who would venture Life for Power,  
Only to govern dull Mankind?  
'Tis Woman, Woman they adore;  
For Beauty they those dangers find.  Chorus to Warlike Music. 
No Princes the toils of Ambition would prove,  
Or Dominion would prize, if it were not for Love.  [A Returnello again. Bacchus. 
The delights of the Bottle, and the charms of good Wine,  
To the power and the pleasures of Love must resign:  
Though the Night in the joys of good Drinking be past,  
The debauches but till the next Morning will last.  Chorus to Oboe and Rustic Music of Ma●…des and Aegipanes. 
But Loves great Debauch is more lasting and strong;  
For that often lasts a man all his life long.  
A Returnello again.  Bacchus. 
Love and Wine are the Bonds which fasten us all;  
The World but for these to confusion would fall:  
Were it not for the pleasures of Love and good Wine,  
Mankind for each trifle their lives would resign.  Chorus. 
They'd not value dull life, or would live without thinking;  
Nor would Kings rule the World but for Love and good drinking.  
A Returnello again.  Apollo. 
But to Love! to Love the great union they owe;  
All in Earth and in Heaven to his Sceptre must bow.  A general Chorus of all the Voices and Instruments. The Dancers mingle with the Singers 
All joy to this Celestial Pair,  
Who thus by Heaven united are:  
'Tis a great thing, worth heavens' design,  
To make Love's Power with Beauty's join.  [Six Attendants to the Elysian Princes bring in Porticoes of Arbours, adorned with Festoons and Garlands, through which the Princes and they dance, the Attendants still placing them in several Figures. jup. 
For ever happy in your Psyche be,  
Who now is crowned with Immortality;  
On Earth Love never is from troubles free,  
But here 'tis one eternal Ecstasy:  
'Mongst all the Joys which Heaven and Earth can find,  
Love's the most glorious object of the mind.   

EPILOGUE.  

WHat e'er the Poet has deserved from you,  
Would you the Actors for his faults undo,  
The Painter, Dancer, and Musician too?  
For you those Men of skill have done their best:  
But we deserve much more than all the rest.  
We have staked all we have to treat you here,  
And therefore, Sirs, you should not be severe.  
We in one Vessel have adventured all;  
The loss, should we be Shipwrecked, were not small.  
But if it be decreed that we must fall,  
We fall with honour: Gallants, you can tell,  
No Foreign Stage can ours in Pomp excel,  
And here none e'er shall treat you half so well.  
Poor Players have this day that Splendour shown,  
Which yet but by Great Monarchs has been done.  
Whilst our rich Neighbours mock us for't, we know  
Already th'utmost they intent to do.  
Yet all the fame you give 'em we allow,  
To their best Plays, and their best Actors too.   

But, Sirs—  
Good Plays from Censure here you'll not exempt,  
Yet can like Farces, there below contempt  
Drolls which so course, so dull, sobawdy are,  
The dirty Rout would damn 'em in a Fair:  
Yet Gentlemen such stuff will daily see;  
Nay, Ladies too will in the Boxes be:  
What is become of former modesty?   

Yet—  
Best judges will our Ornaments allow,  
Though they the wrong side of the Arras show.  
But Oh a long farewell to all this sort  
Of Plays, which this vast Town can not support.  
If you could be content th'expense to bear,  
We would improve and treat you better every year.   
FINIS.