ACT I. SCENE I.

MERCURY _and_ PHŒBUS _descend in two Machines_.

_Phoe._ Know you the reason of this present summons? 'Tis neither council day, nor is this heaven. What business has our Jupiter on earth? Why more at Thebes than any other place? And why we two, of all the herd of gods, Are chosen out to meet him in consult? They call me God of Wisdom; But Mars and Vulcan, the two fools of heaven, Whose wit lies in their anvil and their sword, Know full as much as I.

_Merc._ And Venus may know more than both of us; For 'tis some petticoat affair, I guess.

I have discharged my duty, which was, to summon you, Phœbus: we shall know more anon, when the Thunderer comes down. 'Tis our part to obey our father; for, to confess the truth, we two are little better than sons of harlots; and, if Jupiter had not been pleased to take a little pains with our mothers, instead of being gods, we might have been a couple of link-boys.

_Phoe._ But know you nothing farther, Hermes? What news in court?

_Merc._ There has been a devilish quarrel, I can tell you, between Jupiter and Juno. She threatened to sue him in the spiritual court for some matrimonial omissions; and he stood upon his prerogative: then she hit him in the teeth of all his bastards; and your name and mine were used with less reverence than became our godships. They were both in their cups; and at last the matter grew so high, that they were ready to have thrown stars at one another's heads.

_Phoe._ 'Twas happy for me that I was at my vocation, driving day-light about the world. But I had rather stand my father's thunderbolts, than my stepmother's railing.

_Merc._ When the tongue-battle was over, and the championess had harnessed her peacocks to go for Samos, and hear the prayers that were made to her--

_Phoe._ By the way, her worshippers had a bad time on't; she was in a damnable humour for receiving petitions.

_Merc._ Jupiter immediately beckons me aside, and charges me, that, as soon as ever you had set up your horses, you and I should meet him here at Thebes: Now, putting the premises together, as dark as it is, methinks I begin to see day-light.

_Phoe._ As plain as one of my own beams; she has made him uneasy at home, and he is going to seek his diversion abroad. I see heaven itself is no privileged place for happiness, if a man must carry his wife along with him.

_Merc._ 'Tis neither better nor worse, upon my conscience. He is weary of hunting in the spacious forest of a wife, and is following his game _incognito_ in some little purlieu here at Thebes: that's many an honest man's case on earth too, Jove help them! as indeed he does, to make them cuckolds.

_Phoe._ But, if so, Mercury, then I, who am a poet, must indite his love-letter; and you, who are by trade a porter, must convey it.

_Merc._ No more; he's coming down souse upon us, and hears as far as he can see too. He's plaguy hot upon the business, I know it by his hard driving.

JUPITER _descends_.

_Jup._ What, you are descanting upon my actions! Much good may do you with your politics: All subjects will be censuring their kings. Well, I confess I am in love; what then?

_Phoe._ Some mortal, we presume, of Cadmus' blood; Some Theban beauty; some new Semele; Or some Europa.

_Merc._ I'll say that for my father, he's constant to a handsome family; he knows when they have a good smack with them, and snuff's up incense so savourily when 'tis offered by a fair hand,----

_Jup._ Well, my familiar sons, this saucy carriage I have deserved; for he, who trusts a secret, Makes his own man his master. I read your thoughts; Therefore you may as safely speak as think.

_Merc._ Mine was a very homely thought.--I was considering into what form your almightyship would be pleased to transform yourself to-night: whether you would fornicate in the shape of a bull, or a ram, or an eagle, or a swan; what bird or beast you would please to honour, by transgressing your own laws in his likeness; or, in short, whether you would recreate yourself in feathers, or in leather?

_Phoe._ Any disguise to hide the king of gods.

_Jup._ I know your malice, Phœbus; you would say, That, when a monarch sins, it should be secret, To keep exterior shew of sanctity, Maintain respect, and cover bad example: For kings and priests are in a manner bound, For reverence sake, to be close hypocrites.

_Phoe._ But what necessitates you to this love, Which you confess a crime, and yet commit? For, to be secret makes not sin the less; 'Tis only hidden from the vulgar view; Maintains, indeed, the reverence due to princes, But not absolves the conscience from the crime.

_Jup._ I love, because 'twas in the fates I should.

_Phoe._ With reverence be it spoke, a bad excuse: Thus every wicked act, in heaven or earth, May make the same defence. But what is fate? Is it a blind contingence of events, Or sure necessity of causes linked, That must produce effects? Or is't a power, That orders all things by superior will, Foresees his work, and works in that foresight?

_Jup._ Fate is, what I, By virtue of omnipotence, have made it; And power omnipotent can do no wrong: Not to myself, because I will it so; Nor yet to men, for what they are is mine.-- This night I will enjoy Amphitryon's wife; For, when I made her, I decreed her such As I should please to love. I wrong not him Whose wife she is; for I reserved my right, To have her while she pleased me; that once past, She shall be his again.

_Merc._ Here's omnipotence with a vengeance! to make a man a cuckold, and yet not to do him wrong! Then I find, father Jupiter, that when you made fate, you had the wit to contrive a holiday for yourself now and then; for you kings never enact a law, but you have a kind of an eye to your own prerogative.

_Phoe._ If there be no such thing as right and wrong Of an eternal being, I have done; But if there be,----

_Jup._ Peace, thou disputing fool!-- Learn this; If thou could'st comprehend my ways, Then thou wert Jove, not I; yet thus far know, That, for the good of human kind, this night I shall beget a future Hercules, Who shall redress the wrongs of injured mortals, Shall conquer monsters, and reform the world.

_Merc._ Ay, brother Phœbus; and our father made all those monsters for Hercules to conquer, and contrived all those vices on purpose for him to reform too, there's the jest on't.

_Phoe._ Since arbitrary power will hear no reason, 'Tis wisdom to be silent.

_Merc._ Why that's the point; this same arbitrary power is a knock-down argument; 'tis but a word and a blow. Now methinks, our father speaks out like an honest bare-faced god, as he is; he lays the stress in the right place, upon absolute dominion: I confess, if he had been a man, he might have been a tyrant, if his subjects durst have called him to account. But you, brother Phœbus, are but a mere country gentleman, that never comes to court; that are abroad all day on horseback, making visits about the world; are drinking all night; and, in your cups are still railing at the government. O, these patriots, these bumpkin patriots, are a very silly sort of animal!

_Jup._ My present purpose and design you heard, To enjoy Amphitryon's wife, the fair Alcmena: You two must be subservient to my love.

_Merc._ [_To Phœbus._] No more of 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.

_Phoe._ 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.

_Phoe._ 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.

_Phoe._ 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 its 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 would 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 day-light 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 would'st 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 to-morrow; 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.