John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  You two must be subservient to my love.

  Merc. [To Phœbus.] No moreof your grumbletonian morals, brother; there’s preferment coming; be advised, and pimp dutifully.

  Jup. Amphitryon, the brave Theban general,

  Has overcome his country’s foes in fight,

  And, in a single duel, slain their king:

  His conquering troops are eager on their march

  Returning home; while their young general,

  More eager to review his beauteous wife,

  Posts on before, winged with impetuous love,

  And, by to-morrow’s dawn, will reach this town.

  Merc. That’s but short warning, father Jupiter; having made no former advances of courtship to her, you have need of your omnipotence, and all your godship, if you mean to be beforehand with him.

  Phœ. Then how are we to be employed this evening?

  Time’s precious, and these summer nights are short;

  I must be early up to light the world.

  Jup. You shall not rise; there shall be no to-morrow.

  Merc. Then the world’s to be at an end, I find.

  Phoe. Or else a gap in nature of a day.

  Jup. A day will be well lost to busy man;

  Night shall continue sleep, and care shall cease.

  So, many men shall live, and live in peace,

  Whom sunshine had betrayed to envious sight,

  And sight to sudden rage, and rage to death.

  Now, I will have a night for love and me;

  A long luxurious night, fit for a god

  To quench and empty his immortal heat.

  Merc. I’ll lay on the woman’s side for all that, that she shall love longest to-night, in spite of your omnipotence.

  Phœ. I shall be cursed by all the labouring trades,

  That early rise; but you must be obeyed.

  Jup. No matter for the cheating part of man,

  They have a day’s sin less to answer for.

  Phœ. When would you have me wake?

  Jup. Why, when Jove goes to sleep; when I have finished,

  Your brother Mercury shall bring you word. —

  [Exit Phœbus in his chariot.

  Now, Hermes, I must take Amphitryon’s form,

  To enjoy his wife:

  Thou must be Sosia, this Amphitryon’s slave;

  Who, all this night, is travelling to Thebes,

  To tell Alcmena of her lord’s approach,

  And bring her joyful news of victory.

  Merc. But why must I be Sosia?

  Jup. Dull god of wit, thou statue of thyself!

  Thou must be Sosia, to keep out Sosia;

  Who, by his entrance, might discover Jove,

  Disturb my pleasures, raise unruly noise,

  And so distract Alcmena’s tender soul,

  She would not meet my warmth, when I dissolve

  Into her lap, nor give down half her love.

  Merc. Let me alone, I ‘ll cudgel him away;

  But I abhor so villainous a shape.

  Jup. Take it, I charge thee on thy duty, take it;

  Nor dare to lay it down till I command.

  I cannot bear a moment’s loss of joy. —

  Night appears above in a chariot.

  Look up, the Night is in her silent chariot,

  And rolling just o’er Thebes; bid her drive slowly,

  Or make a double turn about the world;

  While I drop Jove, and take Amphitryon’s dress,

  To be the greater, while I seem the less.

  [Exit Jupiter.

  Merc. [To Night.] Madam Night, a good even to you! Fair and softly, I beseech you, madam;

  I have a word or two to you from no less a god than Jupiter.

  Night. O my nimble-fingered god of theft, what makes you here on earth at this unseasonable hour? What banker’s shop is to be broke open to-night? or what clippers, and coiners, and conspirators, have been invoking your deity for their assistance?

  Merc. Faith, none of those enormities, and yet I am still in my vocation; for you know I am a jack of all trades. At a word, Jupiter is indulging his genius to-night with a certain noble sort of recreation, called wenching; the truth on’t is, adultery is the proper name.

  Night. Jupiter would do well to stick to his wife, Juno.

  Merc. He has been married to her above these hundred years; and that’s long enough, in conscience, to stick to one woman.

  Night. She’s his sister, too, as well as his wife; that’s a double tie of affection to her.

  Merc. Nay, if he made bold with his own flesh and blood, ’tis likely he will not spare his neighbours.

  Night. If I were his wife, I should raise a rebellion against him, for the violation of my bed.

  Merc. Thou art mistaken, old Night; his wife could raise no faction. All the deities in heaven would take the part of the cuckold-making god, for they are all given to the flesh most damnably. Nay, the very goddesses would stickle in the cause of love; ’tis the way to be popular, to whore and love. For what dost thou think old Saturn was deposed, but that he was cold and impotent, and made no court to the fair ladies Pallas and Juno themselves, as chaste as they are, cried, Shame on him! — I say unto thee, old Night, woe be to the monarch that has not the women on his side!

  Night. Then, by your rule, Mercury, a king, who would live happily, must debauch his whole nation of women.

  Merc. As far as his ready money will go, I mean; for Jupiter himself can’t please all of them. — But this is beside my present commission: he has sent me to will and require you to make a swinging long night for him, for he hates to be stinted in his pleasures.

  Night. Tell him plainly, I ‘ll rather lay down my commission. What, would he make a bawd of me?

  Merc. Poor ignorant! why, he meant thee for a bawd, when he first made thee. What art thou good for, but to be a bawd? Is not daylight better for mankind, I mean as to any other use, but only for love and fornication? Thou hast been a bawd, too, a reverend, primitive, original bawd, from the first hour of thy creation; and all the laudable actions of love have been committed under thy mantle. Pr’ythee, for what dost thou think that thou art worshipped?

  Night. Why, for my stars and moonshine.

  Merc. That is, for holding a candle to iniquity. But if they were put out, thou wouldst be doubly worshipped by the willing, bashful virgins.

  Night. Then, for my quiet, and the sweetness of my sleep.

  Merc. No: — For thy sweet waking all the night; for sleep comes not upon lovers, till thou art vanished.

  Night. But it will be against nature, to make a long winter’s night at midsummer.

  Merc. Trouble not yourself for that: Phœbus is ordered to make a short summer’s day tomorrow; so, in four-and-twenty hours, all will be at rights again.

  Night. Well, I am edified by your discourse; and my comfort is, that, whatever work is made, I see nothing.

  Merc. About your business, then. Put a spoke into your chariot-wheels, and order the seven stars to halt, while I put myself into the habit of a serving-man, and dress up a false Sosia, to wait upon a false Amphitryon. — Good night, Night.

  Night. My service to Jupiter. — Farewell, Mercury.

  [Night goes backward. Exit Mercury.

  SCENE II. — Amphitryon’s Palace.

  Enter Alcmena.

  Alc. Why was I married to the man I love!

  For, had he been indifferent to my choice,

  Or had been hated, absence had been pleasure;

  But now I fear for my Amphitryon’s life:

  At home, in private, and secure from war,

  I am amidst an host of armed foes,

  Sustaining all his cares, pierced with his wounds;

  And, if he falls, — which, O ye gods avert! —

  Am in Amphitryon slain! Would I were there,

  And he were here; so might we change our fates;

  That he might grieve for me, and I might die for him.

  Enter
Phædra, running.

  Phced. Good news, good news, madam; O such admirable news, that, if I kept it in a moment, I should burst with it.

  Alc. Is it from the army?

  Phced. No matter.

  Alc. From Amphitryon?

  Phced. No matter, neither.

  Alc. Answer me, I charge thee, if thy good news be anything relating to my lord; if it be, assure thyself of a reward.

  Phced. Ay, madam, now you say something to the matter: you know the business of a poor waiting-woman, here upon earth, is to be scraping up something against a rainy day, called the day of marriage; every one in our own vocation: — But what matter is it to me if my lord has routed the enemies, if I get nothing of their spoils?

  Alc. Say, is my lord victorious?

  Phæd. Why, he is victorious: indeed I prayed devoutly to Jupiter for a victory; by the same token, that you should give me ten pieces of gold if I brought you news of it.

  Alc. They are thine, supposing he be safe too.

  Phæd. Nay, that’s a new bargain, for I vowed to Jupiter, that then you should give me ten pieces more; but I do undertake for my lord’s safety, if you will please to discharge his godship Jupiter of the debt, and take it upon you to pay.

  Alc. When he returns in safety, Jupiter and I will pay your vow.

  Phæd. And I am sure I articled with Jupiter, that, if I brought you news that my lord was upon return, you should grant me one small favour more, that will cost you nothing.

  Alc. Make haste, thou torturer; is my Amphitryon upon return?

  Phæd. Promise me, that I shall be your bedfellow to-night, as I have been ever since my lord’s absence; unless I shall be pleased to release you of your word.

  Alc. That’s a small request; ’tis granted.

  Phæd. But swear by Jupiter.

  Alc. But why by Jupiter?

  Phæd. Because he’s the greatest: I hate to deal with one of your little baffling gods, that can do nothing but by permission; but Jupiter can swinge you off, if you swear by him, and are forsworn.

  Alc. I swear by Jupiter.

  Phæd. Then — I believe he is victorious, and I know he is safe; for I looked through the keyhole, and saw him knocking at the gate; and I had the conscience to let him cool his heels there.

  Alc. And wouldst thou not open to him? O thou traitress!

  Phæd. No, I was a little wiser: I left Sosia’s wife to let him in; for I was resolved to bring the news, and make my pennyworths out of him, as time shall show.

  Enter Jupiter, in the shape of Amphitryon, with Sosia’s wife, Bromia. He kisses and embraces Alcmena.

  Jup. Oh, let me live for ever on those lips!

  The nectar of the gods to these is tasteless.

  I swear, that, were! Jupiter, this night

  I would renounce my heaven, to be Amphitryon.

  Alc. Then, not to swear beneath Amphitryon’s oath,

  (Forgive me, Juno, if I am profane),

  I swear, I would be what I am this night,

  And be Alcmena, rather than be Juno.

  Brom. Good my lord, what is become of my poor bedfellow, your man Sosia? you keep such a billing and colling here, to set one’s mouth a watering — what, I say, though I am a poor woman, I have a husband as well as my lady; and should be as glad as she of a little honest recreation.

  Phæd. And what have you done with your old friend, and my old sweetheart, Judge Gripus? has he brought me home a crammed purse, that swells with bribes? If he be rich, I will make him welcome, like an honourable magistrate; but if he has not had the wit to sell justice, he judges no causes in my court, I warrant him.

  Alc. My lord, you tell me nothing of the battle?

  Is Thebes victorious, are our foes destroyed?

  For, now I find you safe, I should be glad

  To hear you were in danger.

  Jup. [Aside.] A man had need be a god, to stand the fury of three talking women! I think, in my conscience, I made their tongues of thunder.

  Brom. [Pulling him on one side.] I asked the first question; answer me, my lord.

  Phæd. [Pulling him on the other side.] Peace! mine is a lover, and yours but a husband; and my judge is my lord too; the title shall take place, and I will be answered.

  Jup. Sosia is safe; Gripus is rich; both coming;

  I rode before them, with a lover’s haste. —

  Was e’er poor god so worried? but for my love,

  I wish I were in heaven again with Juno. [Aside.

  Alc. Then I, it seems, am last to be regarded?

  Jup. Not so, my love; but these obstreperous tongues

  Have snatched their answers first; they will be heard;

  And surely Jove would never answer prayer

  That woman made, but only to be freed

  From their eternal noise. Make haste to bed;

  There let me tell my story, in thy arms;

  There, in the gentle pauses of our love,

  Betwixt our dyings, ere we live again,

  Thou shalt be told the battle, and success;

  Which I shall oft begin, and then break off;

  For love will often interrupt my tale,

  And make so sweet confusion in our talk,

  That thou shalt ask, and I shall answer things,

  That are not of a piece; but patched with kisses,

  And sighs, and murmurs, and imperfect speech;

  And nonsense shall be eloquent, in love.

  Brom. [To Phædra.] My lord is very hot upon it: this absence is a great friend to us poor neglected wives; it makes us new again.

  Alc. I am the fool of love; and find within me

  The fondness of a bride, without the fear.

  My whole desires and wishes are in you.

  Phæd. [Aside.] My lady’s eyes are pinking to bedward too: now is she to look very sleepy, counterfeiting yawning, — but she shall ask me leave first.

  Alc. Great Juno, thou, whose holy care presides

  Over the nuptial bed, pour all thy blessings

  On this auspicious night!

  Jup. Juno may grudge; for she may fear a rival

  In those bright eyes; but Jupiter will grant,

  And doubly bless this night.

  Phæd. [Aside.] But Jupiter should ask my leave first, were he here in person.

  Alc. Bromia, prepare the bed:

  The tedious journey has disposed my lord

  To seek his needful rest. — [Exit Bromia.

  Phæd. ’Tis very true, madam; the poor gentleman must needs be weary; and, therefore, it was not ill contrived, that he must lie alone to-night, to recruit himself with sleep, and lay in enough for to-morrow night, when you may keep him waking.

  Alc. [To Jupiter.] I must confess, I made a kind of promise —

  Phæd. [Almost crying.] A kind of promise, do you call it? I see you would fain be coming off.

  I am sure you swore to me, by Jupiter, that I should be your bedfellow; and I ‘ll accuse you to him, too, the first prayers I make! and I ‘ll pray o’ purpose, too, that I will, though I have not prayed to him this seven years.

  Jup. O the malicious hilding!

  Alc. I did swear, indeed, my lord.

  Jup. Forswear thyself; for Jupiter but laughs

  At lovers’ perjuries.

  Phœd. The more shame for him, if he does: there would be a fine god, indeed, for us women to worship, if he laughs when our sweethearts cheat us of our maidenheads. No, no, Jupiter is an honester gentleman than you make of him.

  Jup. I’m all on fire; and would not lose this night,

  To be the master of the universe.

  Phœd. Ay, my lord, I see you are on fire; but the devil a bucket shall be brought to quench it, without my leave. You may go to bed, madam; but you shall see how heaven will bless your night’s work, if you forswear yourself: — Some fool, some mere elder-brother, or some block headly hero, Jove, I beseech thee, send her!

  Jup. [Aside.] Now I could call my thunder to revenge me,

  Bu
t that were to confess myself a god,

  And then I lost my love! — Alcmena, come;

  By heaven, I have a bridegroom’s fervour for thee,

  As I had ne’er enjoyed.

  Alc. She has my oath; — [Sighing.

  And sure she may release it, if she pleases.

  Phœd. Why truly, madam, I am not cruel in my nature, to poor distressed lovers; for it may be my own case another day: and therefore, if my lord pleases to consider me —

  Jup. Anything, anything! but name thy wish, and have it.

  Phœd. Ay, now you say, anything, anything; but you would tell me another story to-morrow morning. Look you, my lord, here is a hand open to receive; you know the meaning of it; I am for nothing but the ready —

  Jup. Thou shalt have all the treasury of heaven.

  Phæd. Yes, when you are Jupiter, to dispose of it.

  Jup. [Aside.] I had forgot, and showed myself a god:

  This love can make a fool of Jupiter.

  Phæd. You have forgot some part of the enemies’ spoil, I warrant you. I see a little trifling diamond upon your finger; and I am proud enough to think it would become mine too.

  Jup. Here take it. —

  [ Taking a ring off his finger, and giving it.

  This is a very woman;

  Her sex is avarice, and she, in one,

  Is all her sex.

  Phæd. Ay, ay, ’tis no matter what you say of us. What, would you have your money out of the treasury, without paying the officers their fees? Go, get you together, you naughty couple, till you are both weary of worrying one another; and then to-morrow morning I shall have another fee for parting you.

  [Phædra goes out before Alcmena with a light.

  Jup. Why now, I am indeed the lord of all;

  For what’s to be a god, but to enjoy?

  Let humankind their sovereign’s leisure wait;

  Love is, this night, my great affair of state:

  Let this one night of providence be void;

  All Jove for once, is on himself employed.

  Let unregarded altars smoke in vain;

  And let my subjects praise me, or complain:

  Yet if, betwixt my intervals of bliss,

  Some amorous youth his orisons address,

  His prayer is in a happy hour preferred;

  And when Jove loves, a lover shall be heard.

  [Exit.

  ACT II.

  SCENE I. — A Night Scene of a Palace.

  Sosia, with a dark lanthorn; Mercury, in Sosia’s shape, with a dark lanthorn also.