No More Learning

_Merc. _ There is an act of oblivion should be passed too.

_Phæd. _ Let him begin to remember quarrels, when he dares; now I have
him under my girdle, I'll cap verses with him to the end of the chapter.

_Enter_ AMPHITRYON, _and Guards_.

_Amph. _ [_To_ GRIPUS. ] At the last I have got possession without your
lordship's warrant. --Phædra, tell Alcmena I am here.

_Phæd. _ I'll carry no such lying message: you are not here, and you
cannot be here; for, to my knowledge, you are above with my lady, in
the chamber.

_Amph. _ All of a piece, and all witchcraft! --Answer me precisely: dost
thou not know me for Amphitryon?

_Phæd. _ Answer me first: did you give me a diamond and a purse of gold?

_Amph. _ Thou knowest I did not.

_Phæd. _ Then, by the same token, I know you are not the true
Amphitryon: if you are he, I am sure I left you in bed with your own
wife. Now you had best stretch out a leg, and feel about for a fair
lady.

_Amph. _ I'll undo this enchantment with my sword, and kill the
sorcerer. --Come up, gentlemen, and follow me. [_To the Guards. _

_Phæd. _ I'll save you the labour, and call him down to confront you, if
you dare attend him. [_Exit_ PHÆDRA.

_Merc. _ [_Aside. _] Now the spell is ended, and Jupiter can enchant
no more; or else Amphitryon had not entered so easily. [GRIPUS _is
stealing off_. ]--Whither now, Gripus? I have business for you: if you
offer to stir, you know what follows.

_Enter_ JUPITER, _followed by_ TRANIO _and_ POLIDAS.

_Jup. _ Who dares to play the master in my house?
What noise is this that calls me from above,
Invades my soft recess and privacy,
And, like a tide, breaks in upon my love?

_Amph. _ O heavens, what's this I see?

_Tran. _ What prodigy!

_Pol. _ How! two Amphitryons!

_Grip. _ I have beheld the appearance of two suns,
But still the false was dimmer than the true;
Here, both shine out alike.

_Amph. _ This is a sight, that, like the gorgon's head,
Runs through my limbs, and stiffens me to stone.
I need no more inquire into my fate;
For what I see resolves my doubts too plain.

_Tran. _ Two drops of water cannot be more like.

_Pol. _ They are two very sames.

_Merc. _ Our Jupiter is a great comedian, he counterfeits most
admirably: sure his priests have copied their hypocrisy from their
master. [_Aside. _

_Amph. _ Now I am gathered back into myself:
My heart beats high, and pushes out the blood,
[_Drawing his sword. _
To give me just revenge on this impostor.
If you are brave, assist me--not one stirs!
[_To the Guards. _
What, are all bribed to take the enchanter's part?
'Tis true, the work is mine; and thus----

[_Going to rush upon_ JUPITER; _and is held by_ TRANIO _and_
POLIDAS.

_Pol. _ It must not be.

_Jup. _ Give him his way; I dare the madman's worst:
But still take notice, that it looks not like
The true Amphitryon, to fly out at first
To brutal force: it shews he doubts his cause,
Who dares not trust his reason to defend it.

_Amph. _ Thou base usurper of my name and bed! [_Struggling. _

No less than thy heart's blood can wash away
The affronts I have sustained.

_Tran. _ We must not suffer
So strange a duel, as Amphitryon
To fight against himself.

_Pol. _ Nor think we wrong you, when we hold your hands:
We know our duty to our general;
We know the ties of friendship to our friend;
But who that friend, or who that general is,
Without more certain proofs, betwixt you two,
Is hard to be distinguished, by our reason;
Impossible, by sight.

_Amph. _ I know it, and have satisfied myself;
I am the true Amphitryon.

_Jup. _ See again,
He shuns the certain proofs; and dares not stand
Impartial judgment, and award of right.
But, since Alcmena's honour is concerned,
Whom, more than heaven, and all the world, I love,
This I propose, as equal to us both:--
Tranio and Polidas, be you assistants;
The guards be ready to secure the impostor,
When once so proved, for public punishment;
And Gripus, be thou umpire of the cause.

_Amph. _ I am content: let him proceed to examination.

_Grip. _ On whose side would you please that I should give the sentence?
[_Aside to_ MERC.

_Merc. _ Follow thy conscience for once; but not to make a custom of
it neither, nor to leave an evil precedent of uprightness to future
judges. [_Aside. _]--'Tis a good thing to have a magistrate under
correction: your old fornicating judge dares never give sentence
against him that knows his haunts.

_Pol. _ Your lordship knows I was master of Amphitryon's ship; and
desire to know of him, what passed, in private, betwixt us two at his
landing, when he was just ready to engage the enemy?

_Grip. _ Let the true Amphitryon answer first.

_Jup. and Amph. together. _ My lord, I told him----

_Grip. _ Peace, both of you:--'Tis a plain case they are both true;
for they both speak together: but, for more certainty, let the false
Amphitryon speak first.

_Merc. _ Now they are both silent.

_Grip. _ Then 'tis plain, on the other side, that they are both false
Amphitryons.

_Merc. _ Which Amphitryon shall speak first?

_Grip. _ Let the cholerick Amphitryon speak; and let the peaceable hold
his peace.

_Amph. _ [_To Polid. _] You may remember that I whispered you, not to
part from the stern one single moment.

_Polid. _ You did so.

_Grip. _ No more words then: I proceed to sentence.

_Jup. _ 'Twas I that whispered him; and he may remember I gave him this
reason for it, that, if our men were beaten, I might secure my own
retreat.

_Polid. _ You did so.

_Grip. _ Now again he is as true as the other.

_Tran. _ You know I was paymaster: what directions did
you give me the night before the battle?

_Grip. _ To which of the you's art thou speaking?

_Merc. _ It should be a double u; but they have no such letter in their
tongue. [_Aside. _

_Amph. _ I ordered you to take particular care of the great bag.

_Grip. _ Why this is demonstration.

_Jup. _ The bag, that I recommended to you, was of tygers-skin; and
marked Beta.

_Grip. _ In sadness, I think they are both jugglers: here is nothing,
and here is nothing; and then _hiccius doccius_, and they are both here
again.

_Tran. _ You peaceable Amphitryon, what money was there in that bag?

_Jup. _ The sum, in gross, amounted just to fifty Attick talents.

_Tran. _ To a farthing.

_Grip. _ Paugh: Obvious, obvious.

_Amph. _ Two thousand pieces of gold were tied up in a handkerchief, by
themselves.

_Tran. _ I remember it.

_Grip. _ Then it is dubious again.

_Jup. _ But the rest was not all silver; for there were just four
thousand brass half-pence.

_Grip. _ Being but brass, the proof is inconsiderable: if they had been
silver, it had gone on your side.

_Amph. _ Death and hell, you will not persuade me, that I did not kill
Pterelas? [_To_ JUPITER.

_Jup. _ Nor you me, that I did not enjoy Alcmena?

_Amph. _ That last was poison to me. ---- [_Aside. _
Yet there's one proof thou canst not counterfeit:
In killing Pterelas, I had a wound
Full in the brawny part of my right arm,
Where still the scar remains:--now blush, impostor;
For this thou canst not show.
[_Bares his arm, and shows the scar, which they all look on. _

_Omnes. _ This is the true Amphitryon.

_Jup. _ May your lordship please----

_Grip. _ No, sirrah, it does not please me: hold your tongue, I charge
you, for the case is manifest.

_Jup. _ By your favour then, this shall speak for me.

[_Bares his arm, and shows it. _

_Tran. _ 'Tis just in the same muscle.

_Polid. _ Of the same length and breadth; and the scar of the same
blueish colour.

_Grip. _ [_To Jup. _] Did not I charge you not to speak? 'twas plain
enough before; and now you have puzzled it again.

_Amph. _ Good gods, how can this be!

_Grip. _ For certain there was but one Pterelas; and he must have been
in the plot against himself too; for he was killed first by one of
them, and then rose again out of respect to the other Amphitryon, to be
killed twice over.

_Enter_ ALCMENA, PHÆDRA, _and_ BROMIA.

_Alcm. _ No more of this; it sounds impossible

[_Turning to_ PHÆDRA _and_ BROMIA.

That two should be so like, no difference found.

_Phæd. _ You'll find it true.

_Alcm. _ Then where's Alcmena's honour and her fame?
Farewell my needless fear, it cannot be:
This is a case too nice for vulgar sight;
But let me come, my heart will guide my eyes
To point, and tremble to its proper choice.

[_Seeing_ AMPHITRYON, _goes to him_.

There neither was, nor is, but one Amphitryon;
And I am only his. --
[_Goes to take him by the hand. _

_Amph. _ Away, adultress!
[_Pushing her away from him. _

_Jup. _ My gentle love, my treasure, and my joy,
Follow no more that false and foolish fire,
That would mislead thy fame to sure destruction!
Look on thy better husband, and thy friend,
Who will not leave thee liable to scorn,
But vindicate thy honour from that wretch,
Who would by base aspersions blot thy virtue.

Alcm. [_Going to him, who embraces her. _]
I was indeed mistaken; thou art he!
Thy words, thy thoughts, thy soul is all Amphitryon.
The impostor has thy features, not thy mind;
The face might have deceived me in my choice,
Thy kindness is a guide that cannot err.

_Amph. _ What! in my presence to prefer the villain?
O execrable cheat! --I break the truce;
And will no more attend your vain decisions:
To this, and to the gods, I'll trust my cause.
[_Is rushing upon_ JUPITER, _and is held again_.

_Jup. _ Poor man, how I contemn those idle threats!
Were I disposed, thou might'st as safely meet
The thunder launched from the red arm of Jove,--Nor
Jove need blush to be Alcmena's champion.
But in the face of Thebes she shall be cleared;
And what I am, and what thou art, be known. --
Attend, and I will bring convincing proofs.

_Amph. _ Thou would'st elude my justice, and escape:
But I will follow thee through earth and seas;
Nor hell shall hide thee from my just revenge.

_Jup. _ I'll spare thy pains. It shall be quickly seen,
Betwixt us two, who seeks, and who avoids. --
Come in, my friends,--and thou, who seem'st Amphitryon--
That all, who are in doubt, may know the true.

[JUPITER _re-enters the house; with him_ AMPHITRYON ALCMENA,
POLIDAS, TRANIO, _and Guards_.

_Merc. _ Thou, Gripus, and you, Bromia, stay with Phædra:
[_To_ GRIPUS _and_ BROMIA,
_who are following_.
Let their affairs alone, and mind we ours,
Amphitryon's rival shall appear a god:
But know beforehand, I am Mercury;
Who want not heaven, while Phædra is on earth.

_Brom. _ But, an't please your lordship, is my fellow Phædra to be
exalted into the heavens, and made a star?

_Phæd. _ When that comes to pass, if you look up a-nights, I shall
remember old kindness, and vouch-safe to twinkle on you.

_Enter_ SOSIA, _peeping about him; and, seeing_ MERCURY, _is
starting back_.

_Sos. _ Here he is again; and there's no passing by him into the house,
unless I were a sprite, to glide in through the key-hole. I am to be a
vagabond, I find.

_Merc. _ Sosia, come back.

_Sos. _ No, I thank you; you may whistle me long enough; a beaten dog
has always the wit to avoid his master.

_Merc. _ I permit thee to be Sosia again.

_Sos. _ 'Tis an unfortunate name, and I abandon it: he that has an itch
to be beaten, let him take it up for Sosia;--What have I said now! I
mean for me; for I neither am nor will be Sosia.

_Merc. _ But thou may'st be so in safety; for I have acknowledged myself
to be god Mercury.

_Sos. _ You may be a god, for aught I know; but the devil take me if
ever I worship you, for an unmerciful deity as you are.

_Merc. _ You ought to take it for an honour to be drubbed by the hand of
a divinity.

_Sos. _ I am your most humble servant, good Mr God; but, by the faith of
a mortal, I could well have spared the honour that you did me. But how
shall I be sure that you will never assume my shape again?

_Merc. _ Because I am weary of wearing so villainous an outside.

_Sos. _ Well, well; as villainous as it is, here's old Bromia will be
contented with it.

_Brom. _ Yes, now I am sure that I may chastise you safely, and that
there's no god lurking under your appearance.

_Sos. _ Ay; but you had best take heed how you attempt it; for, as
Mercury has turned himself into me, so I may take the toy into my head,
and turn myself into Mercury, that I may swinge you off condignly.

_Merc. _ In the mean time, be all my witnesses, that I take Phædra for
my wife of the left hand; that is, in the nature of a lawful concubine.

_Phæd. _ You shall pardon me for believing you, for all you are a god;
for you have a terrible ill name below; and I am afraid you'll get a
footman, instead of a priest, to marry us.

_Merc. _ But here's Gripus shall draw up articles betwixt us.

_Phæd. _ But he's damnably used to false conveyancing. Well, be it so;
for my counsel shall over-look them before I sign--Come on, Gripus,
that I may have him under black and white.

[_Here_ GRIPUS _gets ready pen, ink, and paper_.

_Merc. _ With all my heart, that I may have thee under black and white
hereafter.

_Phæd. _ [_To_ GRIPUS. ] Begin, begin--Heads of articles to be made, &c.
betwixt Mercury, god of thieves----

_Merc. _ And Phædra, queen of gypsies. ----_Imprimis_, I promise to buy
and settle upon her an estate, containing nine thousand acres of land,
in any part of Boeotia, to her own liking.

_Phæd. _ Provided always, that no part of the said nine thousand acres
shall be upon, or adjoining to, Mount Parnassus; for I will not be
fobbed off with a poetical estate.

Merc. _Memorandum_, that she be always constant to me, and admit of no
other lover.

Phæd. _Memorandum_, unless it be a lover that offers more; and that the
constancy shall not exceed the settlement.

Merc. _Item_, that she shall keep no male servants in her house:
_Item_, no rival lap-dog for a bedfellow: _Item_, that she shall never
pray to any of the gods.

_Phæd. _ What, would you have me an atheist?

_Merc. _ No devotion to any he-deity, good Phædra.

_Brom. _ Here's no provision made for children yet.

_Phæd. _ Well remembered, Bromia; I bargain that my eldest son shall be
a hero, and my eldest daughter a king's mistress.

_Merc. _ That is to say, a blockhead, and a harlot, Phædra.

_Phæd. _ That's true; but who dares call them so? Then, for the younger
children--But now I think on't, we'll have no more, but Mass and Miss;
for the rest would be but chargeable, and a burden to the nation.

_Merc. _ Yes, yes; the second shall be a false prophet: he shall have
wit enough to set up a new religion, and too much wit to die a martyr
for it.

_Phæd. _ O what had I forgot? there's pin-money, and alimony, and
separate maintenance, and a thousand things more to be considered, that
are all to be tacked to this act of settlement.

_Sos. _ I am a fool, I must confess; but yet I can see as far into a
mill-stone as the best of you. I have observed, that you women-wits
are commonly so quick upon the scent, that you often over-run it:
now I would ask of Madam Phædra, that in case Mr Heaven there should
be pleased to break these articles, in what court of judicature she
intends to sue him?

_Phæd. _ The fool has hit upon't:--Gods, and great men, are never to be
sued, for they can always plead privilege of peerage; and therefore
for once, monsieur, I'll take your word; for, as long as you love me,
you'll be sure to keep it: and, in the mean time, I shall be gaining
experience how to manage some rich cully; for no woman ever made her
fortune by a wit.

_It thunders; and the company within doors_, AMPHITRYON, ALCMENA,
POLIDAS, _and_ TRANIO, _all come running out, and join with the
rest, who were on the stage before_.

_Amph. _ Sure 'tis some god; he vanished from our sight,
And told us, we should see him soon return.

_Alcm. _ I know not what to hope, nor what to fear.
A simple error is a real crime,
And unconsenting innocence is lost.

_A second peal of Thunder. After which_, JUPITER _appears in a Machine_.

_Jup. _ Look up, Amphitryon, and behold, above,
The impostor god, the rival of thy love;
In thy own shape see Jupiter appear,
And let that sight secure thy jealous fear.
Disgrace, and infamy, are turned to boast;
No fame, in Jove's concurrence, can be lost:
What he enjoys, he sanctifies from vice,
And, by partaking, stamps into a price,
'Tis I who ought to murmur at my fate,
Forced by my love my godhead to translate;
When on no other terms I could possess,
But by thy form, thy features, and thy dress.
To thee were given the blessings that I sought,
Which else, not all the bribes of heaven had bought,
Then take into thy arms thy envied love,
And, in his own despite, triumph o'er Jove.

_Merc. _ Amphitryon and Alcmena both stand mute, and know not how to
take it. [_Aside. _

_Sos. _ Our sovereign lord Jupiter is a sly companion; he knows how to
gild a bitter pill. [_Aside. _

_Jup. _ From this auspicious night shall rise an heir,
Great like his sire, and like his mother fair:
Wrongs to redress, and tyrants to disseize;
Born for a world that wants a Hercules.
Monsters, and monster-men he shall engage,
And toil, and struggle, through an impious age.
Peace to his labours shall at length succeed; }
And murmuring men, unwilling to be freed, }
Shall be compelled to happiness, by need. }
[JUPITER _is carried back to Heaven_.

_Omnes. _ We all congratulate Amphitryon.

_Merc. _ Keep your congratulations to yourselves, gentlemen. 'Tis a nice
point, let me tell you that; and the less that's said of it the better.
Upon the whole matter, if Amphitryon takes the favour of Jupiter in
patience, as from a god, he's a good heathen.

_Sos. _ I must take a little extraordinary pains to-night, that my
spouse may come even with her lady, and produce a squire to attend on
young Hercules, when he goes out to seek adventures; that, when his
master kills a man, he may stand ready to pick his pockets, and piously
relieve his aged parents. --Ah, Bromia, Bromia, if thou hadst been as
handsome and as young as Phædra! --I say no more, but somebody might
have made his fortunes as well as his master, and never the worse man
neither.

For, let the wicked world say what they please,
The fair wife makes her husband live at ease:
The lover keeps him too; and but receives,
Like Jove, the remnants that Amphitryon leaves.
'Tis true, the lady has enough in store,
To satisfy those two, and eke two more:
In fine, the man, who weighs the matter fully,
Would rather be the cuckold than the cully. [_Exeunt. _




EPILOGUE,

SPOKEN BY PHÆDRA.


I'm thinking, (and it almost makes me mad)
How sweet a time those heathen ladies had.
Idolatry was even their Gods' own trade:
They worshipped the fine creatures they had made.
Cupid was chief of all the deities;
And love was all the fashion, in the skies.
When the sweet nymph held up the lily hand,
Jove was her humble servant at command;
The treasury of heaven was ne'er so bare,
But still there was a pension for the fair.
In all his reign, adultery was no sin;
For Jove the good example did begin.
Mark, too, when he usurped the husband's name,
How civilly he saved the lady's fame.
The secret joys of love he wisely hid;
But you, sirs, boast of more than e'er you did.
You teaze your cuckolds, to their face torment 'em;
But Jove gave his new honours to content him,
And, in the kind remembrance of the fair,
On each exalted son bestowed a star.
For these good deeds, as by the date appears,
His godship flourished full two thousand years.
At last, when he and all his priests grew old, }
The ladies grew in their devotion cold; }
And that false worship would no longer hold. }
Severity of life did next begin;
And always does, when we no more can sin.
That doctrine, too, so hard in practice lies,
That the next age may see another rise.
Then, pagan gods may once again succeed: }
And Jove, or Mars, be ready, at our need, }
To get young godlings; and so mend our breed. }




KING ARTHUR:

OR,

THE BRITISH WORTHY.

A

DRAMATIC OPERA.

* * * * *

----_hîc alta theatris
Fundamenta locant,--scenis decora alta futuris. _ VIRG. Æn. 1.

_Purpurea intexti tollant aulæa Britanni. _ Georg. 3.

----_Tanton' placuit concurrere motu,
Jupiter, æterna gentes in pace futuris! _ Æneid. 12.

----_Et celebrare domestica facta. _ HOR.




KING ARTHUR.


The Seventeenth century was still familiar with

----Whate'er resounds,
In fable or romance, of Uther's son,
Begirt with British and Armoric knights.

Fired by the splendid fictions which romancers had raised on the
basis of Geoffrey of Monmouth and the Welsh traditions, Milton had
designed the exploits of King Arthur for the subject of his lofty epic
strain. What we have lost, in his abandoning the theme, can only be
estimated by the enthusiastic tone into which he always swells, when
he touches upon the "shores of old romance. " The sublime glow of his
imagination, which delighted in painting what was beyond the reach
of human experience; the dignity of his language, formed to express
the sentiments of heroes and of immortals; his powers of describing
alike the beautiful and terrible; above all, the justice with which
he conceived and assigned to each supernatural agent a character as
decidedly peculiar, as lesser poets have given to their human actors,
would have sent him forth to encounter such a subject with gigantic
might. Whoever has ventured, undeterred by their magnitude, upon the
old romances of "Lancelot du Lac," "Sir Tristrem," and others, founded
on the achievements of the Knights of the Round Table, cannot but
remember a thousand striking Gothic incidents, worthy subjects of the
pen of Milton. What would he not have made of the adventure of the
Ruinous Chapel, the Perilous Manor, the Forbidden Seat, the Dolorous
Wound, and many others susceptible of being described in the most
sublime poetry! Even when that sun had set, Arthur had yet another
chance for immortality; for Dryden repeatedly expressed his intention
to found an epic poem upon his history. Our poet, it may be guessed,
was too much in the trammels of French criticism, to have ventured
upon a style of composition allied to the Gothic romance. His poem
would probably have been formed upon the model of the ancients, which,
although more classical and correct, might have wanted the force,
which reality of painting and description never fails to give to epic
narrative. Arthur, in such a poem, would, like Rinaldo, have reminded
us of Achilles; and the sameness of a copy would have been substituted
for the spirit of a characteristic original. But, had Dryden executed
his intended plan, we should have found picturesque narrative
detailed in the most manly and majestic verse, and interspersed with
lessons teaching us to know human life, maxims proper to guide it,
and sentiments which ought to adorn it. In the Knight's Tale, and in
Dryden's other narrative poems, we see enough to induce us to regret
the sordid negligence, or avarice, which withheld from him the means
of decent support, while employed upon the promised task. But Arthur,
as a sort of counterpoise to his extravagant reputation during the
middle ages, was doomed, in the seventeenth century, to be reluctantly
abandoned by Milton and Dryden; and to be celebrated by the pen of
Blackmore.

It is probable, that, when Dryden abandoned all thoughts of a larger
work, he adapted the intended subject to the following opera, and
converted the Genii of the kingdoms, by whom the supernatural
machinery of the epic was to have been conducted, into the lighter and
simpler device of airy and earthy spirits, whose idea the Rosicrucian
philosophy had long rendered popular and familiar. There is no attempt
to avail himself of any fragments of Arthur's romantic renown. He
is not, in this drama, the formidable possessor of Excalibar, and
the superior of the chivalry of the Round Table; nor is Merlin the
fiend-born necromancer, of whom antiquity related and believed so
many wonders. They are the prince and magician of a beautiful fairy
tale, the story of which, abstracted from the poetry, might have been
written by Madame D'Aunois. At the same time, the obvious advantages of
an appeal to the ancient prejudices, which our author has neglected,
are supplied from the funds of his own genius. The incidents, being
intended more for the purpose of displaying machinery, and introducing
music and dances, than with any reference to the rules of the drama,
are abundantly fantastic and extravagant; but the poet has supported
them with wonderful address. The blindness of Emmeline, and the
innocence with which she expresses her conception of visible objects,
gives her character an interest often wanting in what may be called the
heroine of a play, whose perfections generally raise her so far beyond
mere mortal excellence, as to render superfluous all human sympathy.
The scene in which Emmeline recovers her sight, when well represented,
never fails to excite the most pleasing testimony of interest and
applause. The machinery is simple, and well managed: the language and
ministry of Grimbald, the fierce earthy dæmon, are painted with some
touches which arise even to sublimity. The conception of Philidel, a
fallen angel, retaining some of the hue of heaven, who is touched with
repentance, and not without hope of being finally received, is an idea,
so far as I know, altogether original. Klopstock has since introduced
a similar character into sacred poetry[10]. The principal incident
in "King Arthur" is copied, in almost every circumstance, from the
adventures of Rinaldo in the haunted grove on Mount Olivet[11], which
makes also the subject of an Italian opera.

From what is mentioned in the author's preface, we may conceive
the disadvantages under which "King Arthur" was finally brought
forward.