Amp.The sons of Fortunatus had not wontThus to repine at others’ happiness:But fools have always this loose garment wore,Being poor themselves, they wish all others poor.Fie, brother Andelocia, hate this madness,Turn your eyes inward, and behold your soul,That wants more than your body; burnish thatWith glittering virtue, and make idiots grieveTo see your beauteous mind in wisdom shine,As you at their rich poverty repine.
EnterFortunatus,gallant.[358]
Andel.Peace, good Virtue; Shadow, here comes another shadow.
Shad.It should be a chameleon: for he is all in colours.
Amp.Oh, ’tis my father. With these tears of joy,My love and duty greet your fair return!A double gladness hath refreshed my soul;One, that you live, and one, to see your fateLooks freshly howsoever poor in state.
Andel.My father Fortunatus, and thus brave?
Shad.’Tis no wonder to see a man brave, but a wonder how he comes brave.
Fort.Dear Andelocia and son Ampedo,And my poor servant Shadow, plume your spiritsWith light-winged mirth; for Fortunatus’ handCan now pour golden showers into their lapsThat sometimes scorned him for his want of gold.Boys, I am rich, and you shall ne’er be poor;Wear gold, spend gold, we all in gold will feed,Now is your father Fortunate indeed.
Andel.Father, be not angry, if I set open the windows of my mind: I doubt for all your bragging, you’ll prove like most of our gallants in Famagosta, that have a rich outside and a beggarly inside, and like mules wear gay trappings, and good velvet foot-cloths[359]on their backs, yet champ on the iron bit of penury—I mean, want coin. You gild our ears with a talk of gold, but I pray dazzle our eyes with the majesty of it.
Fort.First will I wake your senses with the soundOf gold’s sweet music: tell me what you hear?
Amp.Believe me, sir, I hear not any thing.
Andel.Ha, ha, ha. ’Sheart, I thought as much; if I hear any jingling, but of the purse strings that go flip flap, flip flap, flip flap, would I were turned into a flip-flap,[360]and sold to the butchers!
Fort.Shadow, I’ll try thine ears; hark, dost rattle?
Shad.Yes, like three blue beans in a blue bladder, rattle bladder, rattle: your purse is like my belly, th’ one’s without money, th’ other without meat.
Fort.Bid your eyes blame the error of your ears:You misbelieving pagans, see, here’s gold—Ten golden pieces: take them, Ampedo.Hold, Andelocia, here are ten for thee.
Amp.Shadow, there’s one for thee, provide thee food.
Fort.Stay, boy: hold, Shadow, here are ten for thee.
Shad.Ten, master? then defiance to fortune, and a fig for famine.
Fort.Now tell me, wags, hath my purse gold or no?
Andel.We the wags have gold, father; but I think there’s not one angel more wagging in this sacred temple. Why, this is rare: Shadow, five will serve thy turn, give me th’ other five.
Shad.Nay, soft, master, liberality died long ago. I see some rich beggars are never well, but when they becraving: my ten ducats are like my ten fingers, they will not jeopard a joint for you. I am yours, and these are mine; if I part from them, I shall never have part of them.
Amp.Father, if Heaven have blest you once again,Let not an open hand disperse that store,Which gone, life’s gone; for all tread down the poor.
Fort.Peace, Ampedo, talk not of poverty.Disdain, my boys, to kiss the tawny cheeksOf lean necessity: make not inquiryHow I came rich; I am rich, let that suffice.There are four leathern bags trussed full of gold:Those spent, I’ll fill you more. Go, lads, be gallant:Shine in the streets of Cyprus like two stars,And make them bow their knees that once did spurn you;For, to effect such wonders, gold can turn you.Brave it in Famagosta, or elsewhere;I’ll travel to the Turkish Emperor,And then I’ll revel it with Prester John,[361]Or banquet with great Cham[362]of Tartary,And try what frolic court the Soldan keeps.I’ll leave you presently. Tear off these rags;Glitter, my boys, like angels,[363]that the worldMay, whilst our life in pleasure’s circle roams,Wonder at Fortunatus and his sons.
Andel.Come, Shadow, now we’ll feast it royally.
Shad.Do, master, but take heed of beggary.[Exeunt.
Music sounds. EnterVicewith a gilded face, and horns on her head; her garments long, painted before with silver half-moons, increasing by little and little till they come to the full; while in the midst of them is written in capital letters, “Crescit Eundo.” Behind her garments are painted with fools’ faces and heads; and in the midst is written, “Ha, Ha, He.” She, and others wearing gilded vizards and attired like devils, bring out a fair tree of gold with apples on it.
After her comesVirtue,with a coxcomb on her head, and her attire all in white before; about the middle is written “Sibi sapit.” Her attire behind is painted with crowns and laurel garlands, stuck full of stars held by hands thrust out of bright clouds, and among them is written, “Dominabitur astris.” She and other nymphs, all in white with coxcombs on their heads, bring a tree with green and withered leaves mingled together, and with little fruit on it.
After her comesFortune,with twoNymphs, one bearing her wheel, another her globe.
And last, thePriest.
Fortune.You ministers of Virtue, Vice, and Fortune,Tear off this upper garment of the earth,And in her naked bosom stick these trees.
Virtue.How many kingdoms have I measured,Only to find a climate, apt to cherishThese withering branches? But no ground can proveSo happy; ay me, none do Virtue love.I’ll try this soil; if here I likewise fade,To Heaven I’ll fly, from whence I took my birth,And tell the Gods, I am banished from the earth.
Vice.Virtue, I am sworn thy foe: if there thou plant,Here, opposite to thine, my tree shall flourish,And as the running wood-bine spreads her arms,To choke thy withering boughs in their embrace,I’ll drive thee from this world: were Virtue fled,Vice as an angel should be honourèd.
Fortune.Servants of this bright devil and that poor saint,Apply your task whilst you are labouring:To make your pains seem short our priest shall sing.
[Whilst thePriestsings, the rest set the trees into the earth.
Song.
Virtue’s branches wither, Virtue pines,O pity, pity, and alack the time,Vice doth flourish, Vice in glory shines,Her gilded boughs above the cedar climb.Vice hath golden cheeks, O pity, pity,She in every land doth monarchize.Virtue is exiled from every city,Virtue is a fool, Vice only wise.O pity, pity, Virtue weeping dies.Vice laughs to see her faint,—alack the time.This sinks; with painted wings the other flies:Alack that best should fall, and bad should climb.O pity, pity, pity, mourn, not sing,Vice is a saint, Virtue an underling.Vice doth flourish, Vice in glory shines,Virtue’s branches wither, Virtue pines.
Fortune.Flourish or wither, Fortune cares not which,In either’s fall or height our eminenceShines equal to the sun: the Queen of chanceBoth virtuous souls and vicious doth advance.These shadows of yourselves shall, like yourselves,Strive to make men enamoured of their beauties;This grove shall be our temple, and henceforthBe consecrated to our deities.
Virtue.How few will come and kneel at Virtue’s shrine?
Vice.This contents Virtue, that she is called divine.
Fortune.Poor Virtue, Fortune grieves to see thy looksWant cunning to entice: why hang these leaves,As loose as autumn’s hair which every windIn mockery blows from his rotten brows?Why like a drunkard art thou pointed at?Why is this motley-scorn[364]set on thy head?Why stands thy court wide open, but none in it?Why are the crystal pavements of thy temple,Not worn, not trod upon? All is for this,Because thy pride is to wear base attire,Because thine eyes flame not with amorous fire.
Virtue.Virtue is fairest in a poor array.
Fortune.Poor fool, ’tis not this badge of purity,NorSibi sapit, painted on thy breast,Allures mortality to seek thy love.No: now the great wheel of thy globe hath run,And met this first point of creation.On crutches went this world but yesterday,Now it lies bed-rid, and is grown so old,That it’s grown young; for ’tis a child again,A childish soul it hath, ’tis a mere fool:And fools and children are well pleased with toys.So must this world, with shows it must be pleased,Then, Virtue, buy a golden face like Vice,And hang thy bosom full of silver moons,To tell the credulous world, As those increase,As the bright moon swells in her pearlèd sphere,So wealth and pleasures them to Heaven shall rear.
Virtue.Virtue abhors to wear a borrowed face.
Vice.Why hast thou borrowed, then, that idiot’s hood?
Virtue.Fools placed it on my head that knew me not,And I am proud to wear the scorn of fools.
Fortune.Mourn in that pride and die, all the world hates thee.
Virtue.Not all, I’ll wander once more through the world:Wisdom I know hath with her blessèd wingsFled to some bosom: if I meet that breast,There I’ll erect my temple, and there rest.Fortune nor Vice shall then e’er have the powerBy their loose eyes to entice my paramour.Then will I cast off this deformity,And shine in glory, and triumph to seeYou conquered at my feet, that tread on me.
Fortune.Virtue begins to quarrel: Vice, farewell.
Vice.Stay, Fortune, whilst within this grove we dwell,If my angelical and saint-like formCan win some amorous fool to wanton here,And taste the fruit of this alluring tree,Thus shall his saucy brows adornèd be,To make us laugh.[Makes horns.
Fortune.It will be rare: adieu.
Virtue.Foul, hell-bred fiend, Virtue shall strive with you,If any be enamoured of thine eyes,Their love must needs beget deformities.Men are transformed to beasts, feasting with sin;But if in spite of thee their souls I win,To taste this fruit, though thou disguise their head,Their shapes shall be re-metamorphosèd.
Vice.I dare thee do thy worst.
Virtue.My best I’ll try.
Fort.Fortune shall judge who wins the sovereignty.[Exeunt.
EnterChorus.
Chorus.The world to the circumference of HeavenIs as a small point in geometry,Whose greatness is so little, that a lessCannot be made: into that narrow room,Your quick imaginations we must charm,To turn that world: and turned, again to part itInto large kingdoms, and within one momentTo carry Fortunatus on the wingsOf active thought, many a thousand miles.Suppose then, since you last beheld him here,That you have sailed with him upon the seas,And leapt with him upon the Asian shores,Been feasted with him in the Tartar’s palace,And all the courts of each barbarian king:From whence being called by some unlucky star,—For happiness never continues long,Help me to bring him back to Arragon,Where for his pride—riches make all men proud—On slight quarrel, by a covetous Earl,Fortune’s dear minion is imprisonèd.There think you see him sit with folded arms,Tears dropping down his cheeks, his white hairs torn,His legs in rusty fetters, and his tongueBitterly cursing that his squint-eyed soulDid not make choice of wisdom’s sacred love.Fortune, to triumph in inconstancy,From prison bails him: liberty is wild,For being set free, he like a lusty eagleCut with his vent’rous feathers through the sky,And ’lights not till he find the Turkish court.Thither transport your eyes, and there behold him,Revelling with the Emperor of the East,From whence through fear, for safeguard of his life,Flying into the arms of ugly Night,Suppose you see him brought to Babylon;And that the sun clothed all in fire hath ridOne quarter of his hot celestial wayWith the bright morning, and that in this instant,He and the Soldan meet, but what they say,Listen you—the talk of kings none dare bewray.[Exit.
Enter theSoldan,Noblemen, andFortunatus.
Sold.Art thou that Fortunatus, whose great name,Being carried in the chariot of the winds,Hast filled the courts of all our Asian kingsWith love and envy, whose dear presence tiesThe eyes of admiration to thine eyes?Art thou that Jove that in a shower of goldAppeared’st before the Turkish Emperor?
Fort.I am that Fortunatus, mighty Soldan.
Sold.Where is that purse which threw abroad such treasure?
Fort.I gave it to the Turkish Soliman,A second I bestowed on Prester John,A third the great Tartarian Cham received:For with these monarchs have I banqueted,And rid with them in triumph through their courts,In crystal chariots drawn by unicorns.England, France, Spain, and wealthy Belgia,And all the rest of Europe’s blessed daughters,Have made my covetous eye rich in th’ embraceOf their celestial beauties; now I comeTo see the glory of fair Babylon.Is Fortunatus welcome to the Soldan?For I am like the sun, if Jove once chide,My gilded brows from amorous Heaven I hide.
Sold.Most welcome, and most happy are mine armsIn circling such an earthly deity;But will not Fortunatus make me blessedBy sight of such a purse?
Fort.Ere I depart,The Soldan shall receive one at my hands:For I must spend some time in framing it,And then some time to breathe that virtuous spiritInto the heart thereof, all which is doneBy a most sacred inspiration.
Sold.Welcome, most welcome to the Soldan’s court;Stay here and be the King of Babylon:Stay here, I will more amaze thine eyesWith wondrous sights, than can all Asia.Behold yon town, there stands mine armoury,In which are corselets forged of beaten gold,To arm ten hundred thousand fighting men,Whose glittering squadrons when the sun beholds,They seem like to ten hundred thousand Joves,When Jove on the proud back of thunder rides,Trapped all in lightning flames: there can I show theeThe ball of gold that set all Troy on fire;[366]There shalt thou see the scarf of Cupid’s mother,Snatched from the soft moist ivory of her arm,To wrap about Adonis’ wounded thigh;There shalt thou see a wheel of Titan’s care,Which dropped from Heaven when Phaeton fired the world:[367]I’ll give thee, if thou wilt, two silver dovesComposed by magic to divide the air,Who, as they fly, shall clap their silver wings,And give strange music to the elements;I’ll give thee else the fan of Proserpine,Which in reward for a sweet Thracian song,The black-browed Empress threw to Orpheus,Being come to fetch Eurydice from hell.
Fort.Hath ever mortal eye beheld these wonders?
Sold.Thine shall behold them, and make choice of any,So thou wilt give the Soldan such a purse.
Fort.By Fortune’s blessèd hand, who christened me,The mighty Soldan shall have such a purse,Provided I may see these priceless wonders.
Sold.Leave us alone: [ExeuntNobles.] never was mortal earAcquainted with the virtue of a jewel,Which now I’ll show, out-valuing all the rest.
Fort.It is impossible.
Sold.Behold this casket,[Draws a curtain.Fettered in golden chains, the lock pure gold,The key of solid gold, which myself keep,And here’s the treasure that’s contained in it.[Takes out the hat.
Fort.A coarse felt hat? is this the precious jewel?
Sold.I’ll not exchange this for ten diadems.On pain of death, none listen to our talk.
Fort.What needs this solemn conjuration!
Sold.O, yes, for none shall understand the worthOf this inestimable ornament,But you: and yet not you, but that you swearBy her white hand, that lent you such a name,To leave a wondrous purse in Babylon.
Fort.What I have sworn, I will not violate,But now uncover the virtues of this hat.
Sold.I think none listen; if they do, they die.
Fort.None listen: tell, what needs this jealousy?
Sold.You see ’tis poor in show; did I want jewels,Gold could beget them, but the wide world’s wealthBuys not this hat: this clapped upon my head,I, only with a wish, am through the airTransported in a moment over seasAnd over lands to any secret place;By this I steal to every prince’s court,And hear their private counsels and preventAll dangers which to Babylon are meant;By help of this I oft see armies join,Though when the dreadful Alvarado[368]sounds,I am distant from the place a thousand leagues.Oh, had I such a purse and such a hat,The Soldan were, of all, most fortunate.
Fort.Oh, had I such a hat, then were I brave.Where’s he that made it?
Sold.Dead, and the whole worldYields not a workman that can frame the like.
Fort.No, does’t?[369]By what trick shall I make this mine?[Aside.Methinks, methinks, when you are borne o’er seas,And over lands, the heaviness thereofShould weigh you down, drown you, or break your neck.
Sold.No, ’tis more light than any hat beside:Your hand shall peise[370]it.
Fort.Oh, ’tis wondrous heavy.
Sold.Fie, y’are deceived: try it upon your head.
Fort.Would I were now in Cyprus with my sons.[Exit.
Sold.Stay! Fortunatus, stay! I am undone.Treason, lords, treason, get me wings, I’ll flyAfter this damnèd traitor through the air.
Re-enterNobles.
Nobles.Who wrongs the mighty King of Babylon?
Sold.This Fortunatus, this fiend, wrongs your king.
Nobles.Lock the court gates, where is the devil hid?
Sold.No gates, no grates of iron imprison him,Like a magician breaks he through the clouds,Bearing my soul with him, for that jewel gone,I am dead, and all is dross in Babylon.Fly after him!—’tis vain: on the wind’s wings,He’ll ride through all the courts of earthly kings.
Nobles.What is the jewel that your grace hath lost?
Sold.He dies that troubles me: call me not king;For I’ll consume my life in sorrowing.[Exeunt.
EnterAndelocia,very gallant,[371]andShadow.
Andel.Shadow? what have I lost to-day at dice?
Shad.More than you will win again in a month.
Andel.Why, sir, how much comes it to?
Shad.It comes to nothing, sir, for you have lost your wits; and when a man’s wits are lost, the man is like twenty pounds’ worth of tobacco, which mounts into th’ air, and proves nothing but one thing.
Andel.And what thing is that, you ass?
Shad.Marry, sir, that he is an ass that melts so much money in smoke.
Andel.’Twere a charitable deed to hang thee a smoking.
Shad.I should never make good bacon, because I am not fat.
Andel.I’ll be sworn thy wit is lean.
Shad.It’s happy I have a lean wit: but, master, you have none; for when your money tripped away, that went after it, and ever since you have been mad. Here comes your brother.
EnterAmpedo.
Borrow a dram of him, if his be not mouldy: for men’s wits in these days are like the cuckoo, bald once a year, and that makes motley so dear, and fools so good cheap.
Andel.Brother, all hail.
Shad.There’s a rattling salutation.
Andel.You must lend me some more money. Nay, never look so strange, an you will come off, so; if you will bar me from square play, do. Come, come, when the old traveller my father comes home, like a young ape, full of fantastic tricks, or a painted parrot stuck full of outlandish feathers, he’ll lead the world in a string, and then like a hot shot I’ll charge and discharge all.
Shad.I would be loth, master, to see that day: for he leads the world in a string that goes to hanging.
Andel.Take heed I turn not that head into the world, and lead you so.Brother wilt be? Ha’ ye any ends of gold or silver?
Amp.Thus wanton revelling breeds beggary.Brother, ’twere better that you still lived poor.Want would make wisdom rich: but when your coffersSwell to the brim, then riot sets up sails,And like a desperate unskilled marinerDrives your unsteady fortunes on the pointOf wreck inevitable. Of all the wealthLeft by our father, when he left us last,This little is unspent, and this being wasted,Your riot ends; therefore consume it all.I’ll live; or dying, find some burial.
Andel.Thanks for my crowns.[372]Shadow, I am villainous hungry, to hear one of the seven wise masters talk thus emptily.
Shad.I am a villain, master, if I am not hungry.
Andel.Because I’ll save this gold, sirrah Shadow, we’ll feed ourselves with paradoxes.
Shad.Oh rare: what meat’s that?
Andel.Meat, you gull: ’tis no meat: a dish of paradoxes is a feast of strange opinion, ’tis an ordinary that our greatest gallants haunt nowadays, because they would be held for statesmen.
Shad.I shall never fill my belly with opinions.
Andel.In despite of sway-bellies, gluttons, and sweet mouthed epicures, I’ll have thee maintain a paradox in commendations of hunger.
Shad.I shall never have the stomach to do’t.
Andel.See’st thou this crusado?[373]do it, and turn this into a feast.
Shad.Covetousness and lechery are two devils, they’ll tempt a man to wade through deep matters: I’ll do’t though good cheer conspire my death, for speaking treason against her.
Andel.Fall to it then with a full mouth.
Shad.Oh famine, inspire me with thy miserable reasons.I begin, master.
Amp.O miserable invocation.
Andel.Silence!
Shad.There’s no man but loves one of these three beasts, a horse, a hound, or a whore; the horse by his goodwill has his head ever in the manger; the whore with your ill will has her hand ever in your purse; and a hungry dog eats dirty puddings.
Andel.This is profound, forward: the conclusion of this now.
Shad.The conclusion is plain: for since all men love one of these three monsters, being such terrible eaters, therefore all men love hunger.
Amp.A very lean argument.
Shad.I can make it no fatter.
Andel.Proceed, good Shadow; this fats me.
Shad.Hunger is made of gunpowder.
Andel.Give fire to that opinion.
Shad.Stand by, lest it blow you up. Hunger is made of gunpowder, or gunpowder of hunger, for they both eat through stone walls; hunger is a grindstone, it sharpens wit; hunger is fuller of love than Cupid, for it makes a man eat himself; hunger was the first that ever opened a cook shop, cooks the first that ever made sauce, sauce being liquorish, licks up good meat; good meat preserves life: hunger therefore preserves life.
Amp.By my consent thou shouldst still live by hunger.
Shad.Not so, hunger makes no man mortal: hunger is an excellent physician, for he dares kill any body. Hunger is one of the seven liberal sciences.
Andel.Oh learned! Which of the seven?
Shad.Music, for she’ll make a man leap at a crust; but as few care for her six sisters, so none love to dance after her pipe. Hunger, master, is hungry and covetous; therefore the crusado.
Andel.But hast thou no sharper reasons than this?
Shad.Yes, one: the dagger of Cyprus had never stabbed out such six penny pipes, but for hunger.
Andel.Why, you dolt, these pipes[374]are but in their minority.
Shad.My belly and my purse have been twenty times at dagger’s drawing, with parting the little urchins.
EnterFortunatus.
Amp.Peace, idiot, peace, my father is returned.
Fort.Touch me not, boys, I am nothing but air; let none speak to me, till you have marked me well.
Shad.(ChalkingFortunatus’back.) Now speak your mind.
Amp.Villain, why hast thou chalked my father’s back?
Shad.Only to mark him, and to try what colour air is of.
Fort.Regard him not, Ampedo: Andelocia, Shadow, view me, am I as you are, or am I transformed?
Andel.I thought travel would turn my father madman or fool.
Amp.How should you be transformed? I see no change.
Shad.If your wits be not planet stricken, if your brains lie in their right place, you are well enough; for your body is little mended by your fetching vagaries.
Andel.Methinks, father, you look as you did, only your face is more withered.
Fort.That’s not my fault; age is like love, it cannot be hid.
Shad.Or like gunpowder a-fire, or like a fool, or like a young novice new come to his lands: for all these will show of what house they come. Now, sir, you may amplify.
Fort.Shadow, turn thy tongue to a shadow, be silent! Boys, be proud, your father hath the whole world in this compass, I am all felicity, up to the brims. In a minuteam I come from Babylon, I have been this half-hour in Famagosta.
Andel.How? in a minute, father? Ha, ha, I see travellers must lie.
Shad.’Tis their destiny: the Fates do so conspire.
Fort.I have cut through the air like a falcon; I would have it seem strange to you.
Shad.So it does, sir.
Fort.But ’tis true: I would not have you believe it neither.
Shad.No more we do not, sir.
Fort.But ’tis miraculous and true. Desire to see you, brought me to Cyprus. I’ll leave you more gold, and go visit more countries.
Shad.Leave us gold enough, and we’ll make all countries come visit us.