Chapter II: Act I: Scene I.2

[_Enter_] ENDYMION _and_ EUMENIDES.

_Endymion._ I find, Eumenides, in all things both variety to content,
and satiety to glut, saving only in my affections, which are so
staid, and withal so stately, that I can neither satisfy my heart
with love, nor mine eyes with wonder. (5) My thoughts, Eumenides, are
stitched to the stars, which being as high as I can see, thou mayest
imagine how much higher they are than I can reach.

_Eum._ If you be enamoured of anything (10) above the moon, your
thoughts are ridiculous, for that things immortal are not subject
to affections; if allured or enchanted with these transitory things
under the moon, you show yourself senseless to attribute such lofty 15
titles to such [low][3] trifles.

_End._ My love is placed neither under the moon nor above.

_Eum._ I hope you be not sotted[4] upon the Man in the Moon. 20

_End._ No; but settled either to die or possess the moon herself.

_Eum._ Is Endymion mad, or do I mistake? Do you love the moon,
Endymion?

_End._ Eumenides, the moon. 25

_Eum._ There was never any so peevish[5] to imagine the moon either
capable of affection or shape of a mistress; for as impossible it
is to make love fit to her humour, which no man knoweth, as a coat
to her form, which continueth (30) not in one bigness whilst she is
measuring. Cease off, Endymion, to feed so much upon fancies. That
melancholy blood must be purged which draweth you to a dotage no less
miserable than monstrous. 35

_End._ My thoughts have no veins, and yet unless they be let blood, I
shall perish.

_Eum._ But they have vanities, which being reformed, you may be
restored.

_End._ O, fair Cynthia, why do others term (40) thee unconstant whom
I have ever found unmovable? Injurious time, corrupt manners, unkind
men, who, finding a constancy not to be matched in my sweet mistress,
have christened her with the name of wavering, waxing, and 45
waning! Is she inconstant that keepeth a settled course; which, since
her first creation, altereth not one minute in her moving? There is
nothing thought more admirable or commendable in the sea than the
ebbing and flowing; (50) and shall the moon, from whom the sea taketh
this virtue, be accounted fickle for increasing and decreasing?
Flowers in their buds are nothing worth till they be blown, nor are
blossoms accounted till they be ripe fruit; and shall (55) we then
say they be changeable for that they grow from seeds to leaves,
from leaves to buds, from buds to their perfection? Then, why be
not twigs that become trees, children that become men, and mornings
that grow to evenings, (60) termed wavering, for that they continue
not at one stay? Ay, but Cynthia, being in her fulness, decayeth, as
not delighting in her greatest beauty, or withering when she should
be most honoured. When malice cannot object (65) anything, folly
will, making that a vice which is the greatest virtue. What thing
(my mistress excepted), being in the pride of her beauty and latter
minute of her age, that waxeth young again? Tell me, Eumenides, what
is he that (70) having a mistress of ripe years and infinite virtues,
great honours and unspeakable beauty, but would wish that she might
grow tender again, getting youth by years, and never-decaying beauty
by time; whose fair face neither the (75) summer’s blaze can scorch,
nor winter’s blast chap, nor the numbering of years breed altering of
colours? Such is my sweet Cynthia, whom time cannot touch because she
is divine, nor will offend because she is delicate. O Cynthia, 80
if thou shouldst always continue at thy fulness, both gods and men
would conspire to ravish thee. But thou, to abate the pride of our
affections, dost detract from thy perfections, thinking it sufficient
if once in a month (85) we enjoy a glimpse of thy majesty; and then,
to increase our griefs, thou dost decrease thy gleams, coming out
of thy royal robes, wherewith thou dazzlest our eyes, down into thy
swathe clouts,[6] beguiling our eyes; and then— 90

_Eum._ Stay there, Endymion; thou that committest idolatry, wilt
straight blaspheme, if thou be suffered. Sleep would do thee more
good than speech: the moon heareth thee not, or if she do, regardeth
thee not. 95

_End._ Vain Eumenides, whose thoughts never grow higher than the
crown of thy head! Why troublest thou me, having neither head to
conceive the cause of my love or a heart to receive the impressions?
Follow thou thine own fortunes, (100) which creep on the earth, and
suffer me to fly to mine, whose fall, though it be desperate, yet
shall it come by daring. Farewell. [_Exit._]

_Eum._ Without doubt Endymion is bewitched; otherwise in a man of
such rare virtues there (105) could not harbour a mind of such
extreme madness. I will follow him, lest in this fancy of the moon he
deprive himself of the sight of the sun.
_Exit._

SCENE II.[7]

[_Enter_] TELLUS _and_ FLOSCULA.

_Tellus._ Treacherous and most perjured Endymion, is Cynthia the
sweetness of thy life and the bitterness of my death? What revenge
may be devised so full of shame as my thoughts are replenished with
malice? Tell me, Floscula, (5) if falseness in love can possibly be
punished with extremity of hate? As long as sword, fire, or poison
may be hired, no traitor to my love shall live unrevenged. Were
thy oaths without number, thy kisses without measure, thy sighs
(10) without end, forged to deceive a poor credulous virgin, whose
simplicity had been worth thy favour and better fortune? If the gods
sit unequal beholders of injuries, or laughers at lovers’ deceits,
then let mischief be as well forgiven (15) in women as perjury winked
at in men.

_Flosc._ Madam, if you would compare the state of Cynthia with your
own, and the height of Endymion his thoughts with the meanness
of your fortune, you would rather yield than (20) contend, being
between you and her no comparison; and rather wonder than rage at the
greatness of his mind, being affected with a thing more than mortal.

_Tellus._ No comparison, Floscula? And (25) why so? Is not my beauty
divine, whose body is decked with fair flowers, and veins are vines,
yielding sweet liquor to the dullest spirits; whose ears are corn,
to bring strength; and whose hairs are grass, to bring abundance?
(30) Doth not frankincense and myrrh breathe out of my nostrils, and
all the sacrifice of the gods breed in my bowels? Infinite are my
creatures, without which neither thou, nor Endymion, nor any, could
love or live. 35

_Flosc._ But know you not, fair lady, that Cynthia governeth all
things? Your grapes would be but dry husks, your corn but chaff, and
all your virtues vain, were it not Cynthia that preserveth the one
in the bud and nourisheth the (40) other in the blade, and by her
influence both comforteth all things, and by her authority commandeth
all creatures. Suffer, then, Endymion to follow his affections,
though to obtain her be impossible, and let him flatter himself in
his (45) own imaginations, because they are immortal.

_Tellus._ Loath I am, Endymion, thou shouldest die, because I love
thee well; and that thou shouldest live, it grieveth me, because thou
lovest Cynthia too well. In these extremities, (50) what shall I do?
Floscula, no more words; I am resolved. He shall neither live nor die.

_Flosc._ A strange practice,[8] if it be possible.

_Tellus._ Yes, I will entangle him in such a sweet net that he
shall neither find the means (55) to come out, nor desire it. All
allurements of pleasure will I cast before his eyes, insomuch that
he shall slake that love which he now voweth to Cynthia, and burn
in mine, of which he seemeth careless. In this languishing, between
(60) my amorous devices and his own loose desires, there shall
such dissolute thoughts take root in his head, and over his heart
grow so thick a skin, that neither hope of preferment, nor fear
of punishment, nor counsel of the wisest, nor (65) company of the
worthiest, shall alter his humour, nor make him once to think of his
honour.

_Flosc._ A revenge incredible, and, if it may be, unnatural.

_Tellus._ He shall know the malice of a woman (70) to have neither
mean nor end; and of a woman deluded in love to have neither rule
nor reason. I can do it; I must; I will! All his virtues will I
shadow with vices; his person (ah, sweet person!) shall he deck with
such rich (75) robes as he shall forget it is his own person; his
sharp wit (ah, wit too sharp that hath cut off all my joys!) shall
he use in flattering of my face and devising sonnets in my favour.
The prime of his youth and pride of his time shall be spent 80
in melancholy passions, careless behaviour, untamed thoughts, and
unbridled affections.

_Flosc._ When this is done, what then? Shall it continue till his
death, or shall he dote forever in this delight? 85

_Tellus._ Ah, Floscula, thou rendest my heart in sunder in putting me
in remembrance of the end.

_Flosc._ Why, if this be not the end, all the rest is to no end. 90

_Tellus._ Yet suffer me to imitate Juno, who would turn Jupiter’s
lovers to beasts on the earth, though she knew afterwards they should
be stars in heaven.

_Flosc._ Affection that is bred by enchantment (95) is like a flower
that is wrought in silk,—in colour and form most like, but nothing
at all in substance or savour.

_Tellus._ It shall suffice me if the world talk that I am favoured of
Endymion. 100

_Flosc._ Well, use your own will; but you shall find that love gotten
with witchcraft is as unpleasant as fish taken with medicines[9]
unwholesome.

_Tellus._ Floscula, they that be so poor that (105) they have neither
net nor hook will rather poison dough than pine with hunger; and she
that is so oppress’d with love that she is neither able with beauty
nor wit to obtain her friend, will rather use unlawful means than try
intolerable (110) pains. I will do it. _Exit._

_Flosc._ Then about it. Poor Endymion, what traps are laid for thee
because thou honourest one that all the world wondereth at! And what
plots are cast to make thee unfortunate that (115) studiest of all
men to be the faithfulest! _Exit._

SCENE III.[10]

[_Enter_] DARES _and_ SAMIAS.

_Dares._ Now our masters are in love up to the ears, what have we to
do but to be in knavery up to the crowns?

_Samias._ Oh, that we had Sir Tophas, that brave squire, in the midst
of our mirth,—_et_ (5) _ecce autem_, “Will you see the Devil”,—

_Enter_ SIR TOPHAS [_and_ EPITON].

_Top._ Epi!

_Epi._ Here, sir.

_Top._ I brook not this idle humour of love; it tickleth not my
liver, from whence the lovemongers (10) in former ages seemed to
infer they should proceed.

_Epi._ Love, sir, may lie in your lungs,—and I think it doth, and
that is the cause you blow and are so pursy. 15

_Top._ Tush, boy, I think it but some device of the poet to get money.

_Epi._ A poet? What’s that?

_Top._ Dust thou not know what a poet is?

_Epi._ No. 20

_Top._ Why, fool, a poet is as much as one should say—a poet.
[_Noticing_ DARES _and_ SAMIAS.] But soft, yonder be two wrens; shall
I shoot at them?

_Epi._ They are two lads. 25

_Top._ Larks or wrens, I will kill them.

_Epi._ Larks! Are you blind? They are two little boys.

_Top._ Birds or boys, they are both but a pittance for my breakfast;
therefore have at (30) them, for their brains must as it were
embroider my bolts.[11]

_Sam._ Stay your courage, valiant knight, for your wisdom is so weary
that it stayeth itself.

_Dar._ Why, Sir Tophas, have you forgotten (35) your old friends?

_Top._ Friends? _Nego argumentum_.

_Sam._ And why not friends?

_Top._ Because _amicitia_ (as in old annals we find) is _inter
pares_. Now, my pretty companions (40) you shall see how unequal
you be to me; but I will not cut you quite off, you shall be my
half-friends for reaching to my middle; so far as from the ground to
the waist I will be your friend. 45

_Dar._ Learnedly. But what shall become of the rest of your body,
from the waist to the crown?

_Top._ My children, _quod supra vos nihil ad vos_; you must think the
rest immortal, because (50) you cannot reach it.

_Epi._ Nay, I tell ye my master is more than a man.

_Dar._ And thou less than a mouse.

_Top._ But what be you two? 55

_Sam._ I am Samias, page to [Eumenides].

_Dar._ And I Dares, page to [Endymion].

_Top._ Of what occupation are your masters?

_Dar._ Occupation, you clown! Why, they are honourable
and warriors. 60

_Top._ Then are they my prentices.

_Dar._ Thine! And why so?

_Top._ I was the first that ever devised war, and therefore by Mars
himself given me for my arms a whole armory; and thus I go, as you
(65) see, clothed with artillery. It is not silks, milksops, nor
tissues, nor the fine wool of Seres,[12] but iron, steel, swords,
flame, shot, terror, clamour, blood, and ruin, that rocks asleep my
thoughts, which never had any other cradle (70) but cruelty. Let me
see, do you not bleed?

_Dar._ Why so?

_Top._ Commonly my words wound.

_Sam._ What then do your blows?

_Top._ Not only [wound],[13] but also confound. 75

_Sam._ How darest thou come so near thy master, Epi? Sir Tophas,
spare us.

_Top._ You shall live:—you, Samias, because you are little; you,
Dares, because you are no bigger; and both of you, because you are
but (80) two; for commonly I kill by the dozen, and have for every
particular adversary a peculiar weapon.

_Sam._ May we know the use, for our better skill in war?

_Top._ You shall. Here is a bird-bolt for the (85) ugly beast the
blackbird.

_Dar._ A cruel sight.

_Top._ Here is the musket for the untamed or, as the vulgar sort term
it, the wild mallard.[14]

_Sam._ O desperate attempt! 90

_Epi._ Nay, my master will match them.

_Dar._ Ay, if he catch them.

_Top._ Here is a spear and shield, and both necessary, the one to
conquer, the other to subdue or overcome the terrible trout, which
although (95) he be under the water, yet tying a string to the top
of my spear and an engine of iron to the end of my line, I overthrow
him, and then herein I put him.

_Sam._ O wonderful war! [_Aside._] Dares, (100) didst thou ever hear
such a dolt?

_Dar._ [_Aside._] All the better; we shall have good sport hereafter,
if we can get leisure.

_Sam._ [_Aside._] Leisure! I will rather lose my master’s service
than his company! Look (105) how he struts. [_To_ Sir TOPHAS.] But
what is this? Call you it your sword?

_Top._ No, it is my simitar; which I, by construction often studying
to be compendious, call my smiter. 110

_Dar._ What, are you also learned, sir?

_Top._ Learned? I am all Mars and Ars.

_Sam._ Nay, you are all mass and ass.

_Top._ Mock you me? You shall both suffer, yet with such weapons as
you shall make choice (115) of the weapon wherewith you shall perish.
Am I all a mass or lump; is there no proportion in me? Am I all ass;
is there no wit in me? Epi, prepare them to the slaughter.

_Sam._ I pray, sir, hear us speak! We call (120) you mass, which
your learning doth well understand is all man, for _mas_, _maris_ is
a man. Then _as_ (as you know) is a weight, and we for your virtues
account you a weight.

_Top._ The Latin hath saved your lives, the (125) which a world of
silver could not have ransom’d. I understand you, and pardon you.

_Dar._ Well, Sir Tophas, we bid you farewell, and at our next meeting
we will be ready to do you service. 130

_Top._ Samias, I thank you: Dares, I thank you: but especially I
thank you both.

_Sam._ [_Aside._] Wisely. Come, next time we ’ll have some pretty
gentlewomen with us to walk, for without doubt with them he will
(135) be very dainty.

_Dar._ Come, let us see what our masters do; it is high time.
_Exeunt_ [SAMIAS _and_ DARES.]

_Top._ Now will I march into the field, where, if I cannot encounter
with my foul (140) enemies, I will withdraw myself to the river, and
there fortify for fish, for there resteth no minute free from fight.
_Exeunt_ [Sir TOPHAS _and_ EPITON.] 145

SCENE IV.[15]

[_Enter at one side_] FLOSCULA _and_ TELLUS, [_at the other_] DIPSAS.

_Tellus._ Behold, Floscula, we have met with the woman by chance that
we sought for by travel. I will break my mind to her without ceremony
or circumstance, lest we lose that time in advice that should be
spent in (5) execution.

_Flosc._ Use your discretion; I will in this case neither give
counsel nor consent, for there cannot be a thing more monstrous than
to force affection by sorcery, neither do I imagine (10) anything
more impossible.

_Tellus._ Tush, Floscula, in obtaining of love, what impossibilities
will I not try? And for the winning of Endymion, what impieties will
I not practise? Dipsas, whom as many honour for (15) age as wonder at
for cunning, listen in few words to my tale, and answer in one word
to the purpose, for that neither my burning desire can afford long
speech, nor the short time I have to stay many delays. Is it possible
by herbs, (20) stones, spells, incantation, enchantment, exorcisms,
fire, metals, planets, or any practice,[16] to plant affection where
it is not, and to supplant it where it is?

_Dipsas._ Fair lady, you may imagine that (25) these hoary hairs are
not void of experience, nor the great name that goeth of my cunning
to be without cause. I can darken the sun by my skill and remove the
moon out of her course; I can restore youth to the aged and make 30
hills without bottoms; there is nothing that I cannot do but that
only which you would have me do: and therein I differ from the gods,
that I am not able to rule hearts; for were it in my power to place
affection by appointment, I (35) would make such evil appetites, such
inordinate lusts, such corsed desires, as all the world should be
filled both with superstitious heats and extreme love.

_Tellus._ Unhappy Tellus, whose desires are (40) so desperate that
they are neither to be conceived of any creature, nor to be cured by
any art!

_Dipsas._ This I can: breed slackness in love, though never root it
out. What is he whom (45) you love, and what she that he honoureth?

_Tellus._ Endymion, sweet Endymion is he that hath my heart; and
Cynthia, too, too fair Cynthia, the miracle of nature, of time, of
fortune, is the lady that he delights in, and (50) dotes on every
day, and dies for ten thousand times a day.

_Dipsas._ Would you have his love either by absence or sickness
aslaked?[17] Would you that Cynthia should mistrust him, or be
jealous (55) of him without colour?

_Tellus._ It is the only thing I crave, that, seeing my love to
Endymion, unspotted, cannot be accepted, his truth to Cynthia, though
it be unspeakable, may be suspected. 60

_Dipsas._ I will undertake it, and overtake[18] him, that all his
love shall be doubted of, and therefore become desperate: but this
will wear out with time that treadeth all things down but truth. 65

_Tellus._ Let us go.

_Dipsas._ I follow. _Exeunt._