by Thomas Hood
Since you’re disparaged when I talk of graces.
For example, when I say that he I spoke of
Is no wild sin-monger — no sot — no dicer,
No blasphemer o’ th’ gods — no shameless scoffer,
No ape — no braggart — no foul libertine —
Oh no —
He hugs no witching wanton to his heart,
He keeps no vices he’s obliged to muffle; —
But pays a filial honour to grey hairs,
And guides him by that voice, Divine Philosophy.
Gallo.
Well, he’s a miracle! — and what’s he called?
(ALL.)
Aye, who is he? — who is he?
Apollonius.
His name is Lycius.
Curio.
Then he’s coming yonder: —
Lord, how these island fogs delude our eyes,
I could have sworn to a girl too with him.
Apollonius.
Aye, aye, — you know these eyes can shoot so far,
Or else the jest were but a sorry one.
Curio.
Mercutius sees her too.
Mercutius.
In faith I do, sir, —
Apollonius.
Peace puppies — nine days hence you will see truer.
Curio.
Nay, but by all the gods! —
Gallo.
We’ll take our oath on’t.
Apollonius.
Peace, peace! (aside) I see her too — This is some mockery,
Illusion, damn’d illusion! —
What, ho! Lycius!
[Lycius (entering) wishes to pass aside. Lamia clings close to him
Lamia.
Hark! — who is that? — quick fold me in your mantle,
Don’t let him see my face! —
Lycius.
Nay fear not, sweet —
’Tis but old Apollonius — my sage guide.
Lamia.
Don’t speak to him — don’t stay him — let him pass! —
I have a terror of those greybeard men —
They frown on Love with such cold churlish brows
That sometimes he hath flown! —
Lycius.
Aye, he will chide me —
But do not you fear aught. Why how you tremble!
Lamia.
Pray shroud me closer. I am cold — death cold! —
[Old Apollonius comes up, followed by the Gallants.
Apollonius.
My son what have you here?
Lycius.
A foolish bird that flew into my bosom: —
You would not drive him hence?
Apollonius.
Well, let me see it,
I have some trifling skill in augury,
And can divine you from its beak and eyes
What sort of fowl it is. —
Lycius.
I have learn’d that, sir —
’Tis what is called — a dove — sacred to Venus: —
[The Youths laugh and pluck Apollonius by the sleeve.
Apollonius.
Fool! drive it out! [To Lycius.
Lycius.
No, not amongst these hawks here.
Apollonius.
Let’s see it then.
(ALL.)
Aye, aye, old Greybeard, you say well for once,
Let’s see it: — let’s see it! —
Apollonius.
Art sure it is no snake, — to suit the fable,
You’ve nestled in your bosom? —
Lamia (under the mantle).
Lost! lost! lost! —
Mercutius.
Hark! the dove speaks — I knew it was a parrot! —
Apollonius.
Dear Lycius, — my own son (at least till now)
Let me forewarn you, boy! —
Lycius.
No, peace, I will not.
Curio.
There spoke a model for you.
Apollonius.
O Lycius, Lycius —
My eyes are shock’d, and half my age is kill’d
To see your noble self so ill accompanied! —
Lycius.
And, sir, my eyes are shock’d too — Fie! is this
A proper retinue — for those grey hairs?
A troop of scoffing boys! — Sirs, by your leave
I must and will pass on. [To the Gallants.
Mercutius.
That as you can, sir —
Lycius.
Why then this arm has cleared a dozen such.
[They scuffle: in the tumult Apollonius is overturned.
Apollonius.
Unhappy boy! — this overthrow’s your own! —
[Lycius frees himself and Lamia, and calls back.
Lycius.
Lift — help him — pick him up! — fools — braggarts — apes —
Step after me who dares! — [Exit with Lamia.
Gallo.
Whew! — here’s a model! —
How fare you, sir (to Apollonius) your head? — I fear
Your wisdom has suffered by this fall.
Apollonius.
My heart aches more: —
O Lycius! Lycius! —
Curio.
Hark! he calls his model! —
’Twas a brave pattern. We shall never match him.
Such wisdom and such virtues — in a youth too!
He keeps no muffled vices. —
Mercutius.
No! no! not he! —
Nor hugs no naughty wantons in his arms —
Curio.
But pays a filial honor to gray hairs,
And listens to thy voice — Divine Philosophy!
[They run off, laughing and mocking.
Apollonius.
You have my leave to jest. The gods unravel
This hellish witchery that hides my scholar!
Lycius! Lycius! [Exit Apollonius.
SCENE III.
A rich Chamber, with Pictures and Statues.
Enter Domus unsteadily, with a flask in his hand.
Domus.
Here’s a brave palace! [Looking round.
Why, when this was spread
Gold was as cheap as sunshine. How it’s stuck
All round about the walls. Your health, brave palace!
Ha! Brother Picus. Look! are you engaged too?
(Enter Picus.)
Hand us your hand: you see I’m butler here.
How came you hither?
Picus.
How? Why a strange odd man —
A sort of foreign slave, I think — address’d me
I’ the market, waiting for my turn,
Like a beast of burthen, and hired me for this service.
Domus.
So I was hired, too.
Picus.
’Tis a glorious house!
But come, let’s kiss the lips of your bottle.
Domus.
Aye, but be modest: wine is apt to blush.
Picus.
’Tis famous beverage:
It makes me reel i’ the head.
Domus.
I believe ye, boy.
Why, since I sipped it — (mind, I’d only sipped) —
I’ve had such glorious pictures in my brains —
Such rich rare dreams!
Such blooms, and rosy bowers, and tumbling fountains,
With a score of moons shining at once upon me, —
I never saw such sparkling! [Drinks
Picus.
Here’s a vision!
Domus.
The sky was always bright; or, if it gloom’d,
The very storms came on with scented waters,
And, if it snow’d, ’twas roses; claps of thunder
Seemed music, only louder; nay, in the end,
Died off in gentle ditties. Then, such birds!
And gold and silver chafers bobb’d about;
&nbs
p; And when there came a little gush of wind,
The very flowers took wing and chased the butterflies!
Picus.
Egad, ’tis very sweet. I prithee, dearest Domus,
Let me have one small sup!
Domus.
No! hear me out.
The hills seemed made of cloud, bridges of rainbows,
The earth like trodden smoke.
Nothing at all was heavy, gross, or human:
Mountains, with climbing cities on their backs,
Shifted about like castled elephants;
You might have launch’d the houses on the sea,
And seen them swim like galleys!
The stones I pitch’d i’ the ponds would barely sink —
I could have lifted them by tons! [Drinks.
Picus.
Dear Domus, let me paint too — dear, dear, Domus.
Domus.
Methought I was all air — Jove! I was fear’d,
I had not flesh enough to hold me down
From mounting up to the moon.
At every step —
Bounce! when I only thought to stride a pace,
I bounded thirty.
Picus.
Thirty! Oh, let me drink!
Domus.
And that too when I’d even eat or drank
At the rate of two meals to the hour! [Drinks.
Picus.
Two meals to the hour — nay Domus — let me drink,
Dear Domus let me drink — before ’tis empty! —
Domus.
But then my fare was all so light and delicate,
The fruits, the cakes, the meats so dainty frail,
They would not bear a bite — no, not a munch,
But melted away like ice. Come, here’s the bottle!
Picus.
Thanks, Domus — Pshaw, it’s empty! — Well, who cares —
There’s something thin and washy after all
In these poor visions. They all end in emptiness,
Like this. [Turns down the bottle.
Domus.
Then fill again, boy — fill again!
And be —— . I say, look there! —
Picus.
It is our Lady!
[Lamia enters leaning upon Lycius.
Domus.
Our Lady’s very welcome: (bowing) yours, my lady —
Sir, your poor butler: (to Lycius) Picus, — man, — speak up,
The very same that swam so in my dreams;
I had forgot the Goddess! —
Lamia.
Peace, rude knave!
You’ve tasted what belonged to nobler brains,
And maddened! — My sweet love (to Lycius) ’twas kept for you,
’Tis nature’s choicest vintage.
(to Domus) Drink no more, sir!
Except what I’ll provide you.
Domus.
O sweet Lady!
Lord, and I had a cup I’d thank you in it! —
But you’ve been drunk, — sweet lady — you’ve been drunk!
Here’s Master Picus knows — for we drunk you. —
Picus.
Not I, in faith.
Lycius.
Ha! ha! my gentle love,
Methinks your butler should have been your steward.
Domus.
Why you are merry, Sir —
And well you may. Look here’s a house we’ve come to!
O Jupiter!
Look here are pictures, Sir, and here’s our statues! —
That’s Bacchus! [Pointing.
And there’s Apollo, — just aiming at the serpent.
Lamia.
Peace, fool — my dearest Lycius,
Pray send him forth.
Lycius.
Sirrah, take him off! [To steward.
Picus.
Fie, Domus — know your place.
Domus.
My place, slave!
What, don’t I know my place? [Falls on his back.
Ain’t I the butler?
Lycius.
No more — no more — there — pull him out by the heels —
[Domus is dragged out.
(To Lamia.) My most dear love — how fares it with you now?
Your cheek is somewhat pale.
Lamia.
Indeed, I’m weary,
We’ll not stay here — I have some cheer provided
In a more quiet chamber. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
A Street in Corinth; on one side a very noble building, which is
the residence of Lamia. Mercutius, with the other Gallants,
come and discourse in front of the house.
Mercutius.
So, here they’re lodged!
In faith a pretty nest!
Gallo.
The first that led us hither for revenge —
O brave Mercutius!
Curio.
Now my humour’s different,
For whilst there’s any stone left in the market-place
That hurt these bones, when that pert chick o’erset us
I’d never let him sleep! —
Gallo.
Nor I, by Nemesis!
I’d pine him to a ghost for want of rest.
To the utter verge of death.
Mercutius.
And then you’d beat him.
Is that your noble mind!
Gallo.
Lo! here’s a turncoat!
D’ye hear him, gentles! — he’s come here to fool us!
Mercutius.
Nor I; but that I’m turned, I will confess it; —
For as we came — in thinking over this —
Of Lycius, and the lady whom I glanced
Crouching within his mantle —
Her most distressful look came so across me —
Her death-white cheeks —
That I for one, can find no heart to fret her.
Curio.
Shall Lycius then go free?
Mercutius.
Aye for her sake: —
But do your pleasure; — it is none of mine.
Gallo.
Why, a false traitor! — [Exit
Curio.
Sirs, I can expound him;
He’s smit — he’s passion-smit — I heard him talk
Of her strange witching eyes — such rare ones,
That they turn’d him cold as stone.
Gallo.
Why let him go then — but we’ll to our own.
Curio.
Aye let’s be plotting
How we can vent our spites on this Sir Lycius —
I own it stirs my spleen, more than my bruises
To see him fare so well — hang him! — a model! —
One that was perk’d too, underneath our noses,
For virtue and for temperance.
I have a scheme will grieve ‘em without end:
I plann’d it by the way.
You know this fellow, Lycius, has a father
Some fifteen leagues away. We’ll send him thither
By some most urgent message.
Bravely plotted:
His father shall be dying. Ah! ’tis excellent.
I long to attempt the lady; — nay, we’ll set
Mercutius, too, upon her! Pray, let’s to it.
Look! here’s old Ban-dog. [Apollonius appears in the distance.
Curio.
Nay, but I will act
Some mischief ere I go. There’s for thee, Lycius!
[He casts a stone through the window and they run off.
Enter Apollonius.
Apollonius.
Go to, ye silly fools! — Lo! here’s a palace!
I have grown gray in Corinth, but my eyes
Never remember it. Who is the master?
Some one is coming forth. Lycius again!
[Lycius comes out disordered, with his face flushed, and reels up to Apollonius.
; Lycius.
Why, how now, Graybeard? What! are these your frolics,
To sound such rude alarum in our ears ?
Go to!
Apollonius.
Son, do you know me?
Lycius.
Know you? Why?
Or how? You have no likeness in our skies!
Gray hairs and such sour looks! You’d be a wonder!
We have nothing but bright faces. Hebes, Venuses, —
No age, no frowns!
No wrinkle, but our laughter shakes in wine.
I wish you’d learn to drink.
Apollonius.
O Lycius! Lycius!
Would you had never learned to drink, except those springs
We supp’d together! These are mortal draughts, —
Your cup is drugg’d with death!
Lycius
Grave sir, you lie!
I’m a young God. Look! do you not behold
The new wings on my shoulders? You may die —
That moss upon your chin proclaims you’re mortal —
And feel decays of age. But I’m renewable
At every draught I take! Here, Domus! Domus!
Enter Domus.
Bring a full cup of nectar for this churl. [Exit Domus.
‘Twill give you back your youth, sir, — aye, like magic, —
And lift you o’er the clouds. You’ll dream of nothing
That’s meaner than Olympus. Smiling Goddesses
Will haunt you in your sleep. You’ll walk on flowers,
And never crush their heads.
Enter Domus with wine.
