Mercury alone.

I have fobb'd off his excellency pretty well. Now let him return, and make the best of his credentials. But here comes Jupiter.

Enter Jupiter leading Alcmena, follow'd by Phædra. Pages with torches before them.

Jup. Those torches are offenfive; ftand aloof:

[To the Pages. For, tho' they blefs me with thy heav'nly fight,

To her.

They may disclose the secret I would hide :
The Thebans must not know I have been here;
Detracting crowds would blame me that I ftole
These happy moments from my public charge,
To confecrate to thee; and I could with
That none were witness of the theft, but she
By whom it is approv'd-

Alc. So long an abfence, and fo fhort a stay!
What, but one night! One night of joy and love,
Could only pay one night of cares and fears;
And all the reft are an uncancell'd fum!
Jup. Alcmena, I must go.

Alc. Not yet, my lord.
Jup. Indeed I muft.

Alc. Indeed you fhall not go.

Jup. Behold the ruddy ftreaks o'er yonder hill!
Thofe are the blushes of the breaking morn,
That kindle day-light to this nether world.

Alc. No matter for the day, it was but made
To number out the hours of busy men.
Let 'em be busy ftill, and ftill be wretched;
And take their fill of anxious drudging day:
But we'll

Extinguish day-light, and fhut out the fun.
Stay then, my lord-I'll bribe you with this kifs.

Merc. [Afide.] That's a plaguy little devil; what a roguish eye fhe has! I begin to like her ftrangely: fhe's the perquifite of my place too; for my lady's waiting-woman is the proper fees of my lord's chief gentleman.

Jup. A bribe indeed that foon will bring me back, Tho' now it is not poffible to ftay.

Ale. Not poffible! Alas, how fhort is life,
If we compute alone those happy hours
In which we wish to live! Our fev❜nty years
Are fill'd with pains, difeafes, wants, and woes,
And only dafh'd with love; a little love!
Sprinkled by fits, and with a fparing hand.
Count all our joys from childhoood ev'n to age,
They would but make a day of ev'ry year.
O! wou'd the Gods comprife the quinteffence
In fev'nty days, and take the rest away!

{mena,

Jup. By Heav'n, thy ev'ry word and look, AlcFans the fierce flame thy charms have kindled here: My love increas'd by thine, as fire by fire, Mounts with more ardor in a brighter blaze. But yet one fcruple pains me at my parting; I love fo nicely that I cannot bear

To owe my pleasures to fubmiffive duty :

Tell me, and footh my paffion, that you give them All to the lover, and forget the hufband.

Alc. And yet, my lord, the husband's right alone Can juftify the love that burns for you:

Nor do I fuffer ought that wou'd fuggeft

The fcruple which your fond defire has rais'd.'
Jup. O that you lov'd like me! then you would

A thoufand, thoufand niceties in love.

The common love of fex to fex is brutal:
But love refin'd will fancy to itself

Millions of gentle cares, and fweet disquiets:
The being happy is not half the joy ;

The manner of the happiness is all!

[find

Alc. Confeffing that you love, and are belov'd, Reft happy in that thought; nor wish to lose The right that confecrates the lover's joy. Jup. I am at once a lover and a husband:

But as a lover only am I happy;

A lover jealous of a husband's right,

By which he fcorns to claim; whofe tend'reft joy
Must all be giv'n, not paid. O! my Alcmena,
Indulge the lover's wishes thus refin'd,

Divide him from the hufband.

give to each What each requires; thy virtue to the husband, And on the lover lavish all thy love.

Alc. I comprehend not what you mean, my lord: But only love me ftill, and love me thus, And think me fuch as beft may please your thought. Jup. There's mystery of love in all I say: But duty, cruel duty, tears me from thee. Howe'er indulge at least this fmall requeft When next you fee your husband, dear Alcmena, Think of your lover then.

Alc. O let me ne'er divide what Heav'n has join'd! Hufband and lover both are dear to me.

Jup. Farewel ---

Alc. Farewel-but will you foon return?

Jup. I will, believe me, with a lover's hafte. [Exeunt Jup. and Alc. feverally; Phæd. follows her. Merc. [Alone.] Now I fhould follow him, but Love has laid a lime-twig for me, and made a lame God of me. Yet why fhould I love this Phædra? She's mercenary, and a jilt into the bargain. Three thousand years hence there will be a whole nation of fuch women, in a certain country that will be called France; and there's a neighbour island too, where the men will be all intereft. O what a precious generation will that be, which the men of the island fhall propagate out of the women of the continent! [Phædra re-enters.] And fo much for prophecy; for fhe's hers again, and I must love her in fpite of me.

Phad. Well, Sofia, and how go matters ?
Merc. Our army is victorious.

Phad. And my fervant, judge Gripus ?
Merc. A voluptuous gormand.

Phad. But has he gotten wherewithal to be voluptuous, is he wealthy?

Merc. He fells juftice as he ufes, fleeces the rich rebels, and hangs up the poor.

Phad. Then while he has money he may make love to me. Has he fent me no token?

Merc. Yes, a kifs; and by the fame token, I am to give it you, as a remembrance from him.

B 2

Phed.

Phad. How now, impudence! a beggarly fervingman prefume to kiss me!

Merc. Suppose I were a God, and shou'd make love to you?

Phad. I would be first fatisfy'd whether you were a poor God or a rich God.

Merc. Suppofe I were Mercury, the God of merchandife?

Phad. What, the God of small wares and frippe. ries, of pedlars and pilferers?

Merc. [Afide.] How the gipfy defpifes me!

Phad. I had rather you were Plutus, the God of money, or Jupiter in a golden fhower: there was a God for us women! he had the art of making love. Doft thou think that kings, or Gods either, get miftreffes by their good faces? no, 'tis the gold, and the prefents they can make; there's the prerogative they have over their fair fubjects.

Merc. All this notwithstanding, I must tell you, pretty Phædra, I am defperately in love with you.

Phad. And I muft tell thee, ugly Sofia, thou haft not wherewithal to be in love.

Merc. Yes, a poor man may be in love, I hope. Phad. I grant a poor rogue may be in love, but he can never make love. Alas, Sofia, thou haft neither face to invite me, nor youth to please me, nor gold to bribe me: and befides all this, thou haft a wife-poor miferable Sofia! What ho, Bromia!

Merc. O thou merciless creature! why doft thou conjure up that spright of a wife?

Phad. To rid myfelf of that devil of a poor lover. Since you are fo lovingly difpos'd, I'll put you together what Bromia, I fay, make hafte.

:

Merc. Since thou wilt call her, she shall have all the cargo I have gotten in the wars.

Phad. Why, what have you gotten, good gentleman foldier, befides a legion of [Snaps her fingers. Merc. When the enemy was routed, I had the plundering of a tent.

Phad. That's to fay, a houfe of canvas, ables of ftraw: make hafte, Bromia

5

with move

Merc.

Merc. But it was the general's own tent.

Phad. You durft not fight, I'm certain; and there-fore came laft in when the rich plunder was gone before-hand-Will you come, Bromia?

Merc. Pr'ythee do not call fo loud—A great goblet that holds a gallon.

Phed. Of what was that goblet made? answer quickly, for I am just calling very loud-Bro

Merc. Of beaten gold

doft not like the metal..

Phed. Bromia.

-Now call aloud, if thou

[Very foftly.

Merc. That ftruts in this fashion, with his arms akimbo, like a city magiftrate; and a great bouncing belly, like a hoftefs with child of a kilderkin of wine. Now, what fay you to that prefent, Phædra? Phad. Why I am confidering

Merc. What, I pr'ythee?

Phad. Why, how to divide the bufinefs equally to take the gift, and refufe the giver; thou art fo damnably ugly, and fo old.

Merc, [Afide.] O! that I was not confin'd to this ungodly fhape to-day!

But Gripus is as old and as ugly too.

Phad. But Gripus is a perfon of quality, and my lady's uncle; and if he marries me, I fhall take place of my lady. Hark, your wife! fhe has fent her tongue before her. I hear the thunderclap already; there's a ftorm approaching.

Merc. Yes, of thy brewing, I thank thee for it : O how I should hate thee now, if I cou'd leave loving thee.

Phad. Not a word of the dear golden goblet, as you hope for you know what, Sofia.

Merc. You give me hope, then

Phad. Not abfolutely hope neither: but gold is a great cordial in love matters; and the more you apply of it, the better--[Afide.] I am honeft, that's certain; but when I weigh my honefty against the goblet, I am not quite refolv'd on which fide the scale will turn. [Exit Phædra. Merc. [Aloud.] Farewel, Phædra; remember me to my wife, and tell her