smooth as jet; a long white hand, a fine little foot; to conclude, all parts answerable to the best part; what of this? Though she have heavenly gifts, virtue and beauty, is she not of earthly metal, flesh and blood? You, Alexander, that would be a god, show yourself in this worse than a man, so soon to be both overseen and overtaken in a woman, whose false tears know their true times, whose smooth words wound deeper than sharp swords. There is no surfeit so dangerous as that of honey, nor any poison so deadly as that of love; in the one physic cannot prevail, nor in the other counsel.3 Alex. My case were light, Hephestion, and not worthy to be called love, if reason were a remedy, or sentences could salve, that sense cannot conceive. Little do you know, and therefore slightly do you regard the dead embers in a private person, or live coals in a great prince, whose passions and thoughts do as far exceed others in extremity as their callings do in majesty. An eclipse in the sun is more than the falling of a star: none can conceive the torments of a king, unless he be a king, whose desires are not inferior to their dignities. And then judge, Hephestion, if the agonies of love be dangerous in a subject, whether they be not more than deadly unto Alexander, whose deep and not-to-be-conceived sighs cleave the heart in shivers, whose wounded thoughts can neither be expressed nor endured. Cease then, Hephestion, with arguments to seek to refell that which with their deity the gods cannot resist; and let this suffice to answer thee, that it is a king that loveth, and Alexander; whose affections are not to be measured by reason, being immortal; nor, I fear me, to be borne, being intolerable. Hep. I must needs yield, when neither reason nor counsel can be heard. Alex. Yield, Hephestion, for Alexander doth love, and therefore must obtain. Hep. Suppose she loves not you; affection cometh not by appointment or birth; and then, as good hated as enforced. Alex. I am a king, and will command. Hep. You may, to yield to lust by force; but to consent to love by fear, you cannot. Alex. Why, what is that which Alexander may not conquer as he list? Hep. Why, that which you say the gods cannot resist-love. as Alex. I am a conqueror, she a captive; fortunate as she fair. My greatness may answer her wants, and the gifts of my mind the modesty of hers. Is it not likely, then, that she should love? Is it not reasonable? Hep. You say that in love there is no reason, and therefore there can be no likelihood. Alex. No more, Hephestion; in this case I will use mine own counsel, and in all other thine advice. Thou may'st be a good soldier, but never good lover. Call my page. [Enter page.] Sirrah, go presently to Apelles, and will him to come to me without either delay or excuse. Page. I go. Alex. In the mean season, to recreate my spirits, being so near, we will go see Diogenes. And see where his tub is.-Diogenes! Diog. No. Alex. Why so? Diog. Because they be no gods. Diog. Because I would have none of Diogenes' mind, but Diogenes. Alex. If Alexander have anything that may pleasure Diogenes, let me know, and take it. Diog. Then take not from me that you cannot give me the light of the world. Alex. What dost thou want? Alex. Thou shalt live no longer than I will. Alex. Hephestion, were I not Alexander, I would wish to be Diogenes. Hep. He is dogged, but discreet; I cannot tell how sharp, with a kind of sweetness; full of wit, yet too wayward. Alex. Diogenes, when I come this way again, I will both see thee and confer with thee. Diog. Do. Alex. But here cometh Apelles.-How now, Apelles; is Venus' face yet finished? Apel. Not yet; beauty is not so soon shadowed,2 whose perfection cometh not within the compass either of cunning or of colour. Alex. Well, let it rest unperfect, and come you with me, where I will show you that finished by nature that you have been trifling about by art. ACT III.-SCENE I. APELLES, CAMPASPE. Apel. Lady, I doubt whether there be any colour so fresh, that may shadow a countenance so fair. Camp. Sir, I had thought you had been commanded to paint with your hand, not to glose 3 with your tongue; but, as I have heard, it is the hardest thing in painting to set down a hard favour, which maketh you to despair of my face; and then shall you have as great thanks to spare your labour as to discredit your art. Apel. Mistress, you neither differ from yourself nor your sex; for, knowing your own perfection, you seem to dispraise that which men most commend, drawing them by that mean into an admiration, where, feeding themselves, they fall into an ecstasy; your modesty being the cause of the one, and of the other, your affections.5 Camp. I am too young to understand your 1 In some editions there is a semicolon after how. 2 shadowed-depicted. 3 glose-flatter; generally said to be allied to glossexplain; but in meaning rather connected with glossglitter; polish. 4 favour-look or countenance. Dodsley (ed. 1744) reads perfections. Psyllus. It is always my master's fashion, when any fair gentlewoman is to be drawn within, to make me to stay without. But if he should paint Jupiter like a bull, like a swau, like an eagle, then must Psyllus with one hand grind colours, and with the other hold the candle. But let him alone; the better he shadows2 her face, the more will he burn his own heart. And now, if any man could meet with Manes, who, I dare say, looks as lean as if Diogenes dropped out of his nose Manes. And here comes Manes, who hath as much meat in his maw as thou hast honesty in thy head. Psyllus. Then I hope thou art very hungry. Manes. They that know thee know that. Psyllus. But dost thou not remember that we have certain liquor to confer3 withal? Manes. Ay, but I have business; I must go cry a thing. Payllus. Why, what hast thou lost? Manes. That which I never had-my dinner! Psyllus. Foul lubber, wilt thou cry for thy dinner? Manes. I mean, I must cry; not as one would say cry, but cry, that is, make a noise. Psyllus. Why, fool, that is all one; for if thou cry, thou must needs make a noise. Manes. Boy, thou art deceived: Cry hath divers significations, and may be alluded to many things; knave but to one, and can be applied but to thee. Psyllus. Profound Manes! Manes. We Cynics are mad fellows; didst thou not find I did quip thee? 6 Payllus. No, verily; why, what's a quip? Manes. We great girders call it a short saying of a sharp wit, with a bitter sense in a sweet word. Psyllus. How canst thou thus divine, divide, define, dispute, and all on the sudden? Manes. Wit will have his swing; I am bewitched, inspired, inflamed, infected. Psyllus. Well, then will I not tempt thy gibing spirit. Manes. Do not, Psyllus, for thy dull head will be but a grindstone for my quick wit, which, if thou whet with overthwarts, periisti, actum est de te. I have drawn blood at one's brains with a bitter bob.10 Psyllus. Let me cross myself, for I die if I cross thee. 49 Manes. Let me do my business; I myself am afraid lest my wit should wax warm, and then must it needs consume some hard head with fine and pretty jests. I am sometimes in such a vein, that for want of some dull pate to work on, I begin to gird' myself. Psyllus. The gods shield me from such a fine fellow, whose words melt wits like wax! Manes. Well, then, let us to the matter. In faith, my master meaneth to-morrow to fly. Psyllus. It is a jest. Manes. Is it a jest to fly? should'st thou fly so soon, thou should'st repent it in earnest. Psyllus. Well, I will be the cryer. Manes and Psyllus, one after another. Oyez, Oyez, Oyez, All manner of men, women, or children, that will come to-morrow into the marketplace, between the hours of nine and ten, shall see Diogenes, the Cynic, fly. Psyllus. I do not think he will fly. Manes. Now let us go, for I will not see him again till midnight. I have a back way into his tub. Camp. What are these pictures? Apel. This is Læda, whom Jove deceived in likeness of a swan. Camp. A fair woman, but a foul deceit. Apel. This is Alcmena, unto whom Jupiter came in shape of Amphitrion, her husband, and begat Hercules. Camp. A famous son, but an infamous fact. Apel. He might do it because he was a god. Camp. Nay, therefore it was evil done, because he was a god. Apel. This is Danae, into whose prison Jupiter drizzled a golden shower, and obtained his desire. Camp. What gold can make one yield to desire? Apel. This is Europa, whom Jupiter ravished; this Antiopa. Camp. Were all the gods like this Jupiter? Apel. There were many gods in this like Jupiter. Camp. I think, in those days, love was well ratified among men on earth, when lust was so full authorized by the gods in heaven. Apel. Nay, you may imagine there were women I gird-jibe at. 2 Oyez is French-hear ye; the form used at the commencement of public proclamations. 3 Psyllus is no doubt supposed to have hesitated to say fly. absolute-perfect. Bratified-established. D passing amiable when there were gods exceeding amorous. Camp. Were women never so fair, men would be false. Apel. Were women never so false, men would be fond. Camp. What counterfeit1 is this, Apelles? Apel. This is Venus, the goddess of love. Camp. What! be there also loving goddesses? Apel. This is she that hath power to command the very affections of the heart. Camp. How is she hired? by prayer, by sacrifice, or bribes? Apel. By prayer, sacrifice, and bribes. Apel. Vows irrevocable. Apel. Hearts ever sighing; never dissembling. Apel. Roses and kisses. But were you never in love? Camp. No; nor love in me. Apel. Then have you injured many! Apel. Because you have been loved of many. Camp. Flattered, perchance, of some. Apel. It is not possible that a face so fair and a wit so sharp, both without comparison, should not be apt to love. Camp. If you begin to tip your tongue with cunning, I pray dip your pencil in colours, and fall to that you must do, not that you would do. ACT III.-SCENE IV. CLYTUS, PARMENIO, ALEXANDER, HEPHESTION, CRYSUS, DIOGENES, APELLES, CAMPASPE. Clytus. Parmenio, I cannot tell how it cometh to pass that in Alexander, now-a-days, there groweth an unpatient kind of life: in the morning he is melancholy, at noon solemn, at all times either more sour or severe than he was accustomed. Par. In king's causes, I rather love to doubt than conjecture, and think it better to be ignorant than inquisitive. They have long ears and stretched arms in whose head suspicion is a proof, and to be accused is to be condemned. Clytus. Yet, between us, there can be no danger to find out the cause, for that there is no malice to withstand it. It may be an unquenchable thirst of conquering maketh him unquiet: it is not unlikely his long ease hath altered his humour. That he should be in love, it is not impossible. Par. In love, Clytus? No, no; it is as far from his thought as treason in ours: he, whose ever waking eye, whose never tired heart, whose body patient of labour, whose mind unsatiable of victory hath always been noted, cannot so soon be melted into the weak conceits of love. Aristotle told him there were many worlds, and that he hath not conquered one that gapeth for all, galleth Alexander. But here he cometh. Alex. Parmenio and Clytus, I would have you both ready to go into Persia about an ambassage,2 no less profitable to me than to yourselves honourable. Clytus. We are ready at all commands; wishing nothing else but continually to be commanded. Alex. Well, then, withdraw yourselves till I have further considered of this matter. [Exeunt Clytus and Parmenio.] Now we will see how 1 counterfeil-picture or portrait. * about an ambassage-on an embassy, or business. Apelles goeth forward: I doubt me that nature hath overcome art, and her countenance his cunning. Hep. You love, and therefore think anything. Alex. But not so far in love with Campaspe as with Bucephalus, if occasion serve either of conflict or of conquest. Hep. Occasion cannot want, if will do not. Behold all Persia swelling in the pride of their own power; the Scythians careless what courage or fortune can do; the Egyptians dreaming in the soothsayings of their augurs, and gaping over the smoke of their beasts' entrails. All these, Alexander, are to be subdued, if that world be not slipped out of your head, which you have sworn to conquer with that hand. Alex. I confess the labour's fit for Alexander, and yet recreation necessary among so many assaults, bloody wounds, intolerable troubles: give me leave a little, if not to sit, yet to breathe. And doubt not but Alexander can, when he will, throw affections as far from him as he can cowardice. But behold Diogenes talking with one at his tub! Crysus. One penny, Diogenes; I am a Cynic. Diog. He made thee a beggar that first gave thee anything. Crysus. Why, if thou wilt give nothing, nobody will give thee. Diog. I want nothing till the springs dry and the earth perish. Crysus. I gather for the gods. Diog. And I care not for those gods which want money. Crysus. Thou art not a right Cynic that wilt give nothing. Diog. Thou art not, that wilt beg anything. Crysus. Alexander, King Alexander, give a poor Cynic a groat. Alex. It is not for a king to give a groat. Alex. It is not for a beggar to ask a talent. Away.-Apelles! Apel. Here. Alex. Now gentlewoman? doth your beauty put the painter to his trump?? Camp. Yes, my lord, seeing so disordered a countenance, he feareth he shall shadows a deformed counterfeit. Alex. Would he could colour the life with the feature. And, methinketh, Apelles, were you as cunning as report saith you are, you may paint flowers as well with sweet smells as fresh colours, observing in your mixture such things as should draw near to their savours. Apel. Your Majesty must know it is no less hard to paint savours than virtues: colours can neither speak nor think. Alex. Where do you first begin when you draw any picture? Apel. The proportion of the face in just compass, as I can. Alex. I would begin with the eye, as a light to all the rest. Apel. If you will paint, as you are a king, your Majesty may begin where you please; but, as you would be a painter, you must begin with the face. Alex. Aurelius would in one hour colour four faces. Apel. I marvel in half an hour he did not four. 1 Alluding to the method of augury by inspection of the entrails of animals. 2 put the painter to his trump-make him play his trump card, i.e. put him to his last push. 3 shadow, &c.-paint an untrue likeness. 4 colour the life, &c.-paint the features to the life. Alex. Why should not I, by labour, be as cunning2 as Apelles? Apel. God shield3 you should have cause to be so cunning as Apelles! Alex. Methinketh four colours are sufficient to shadow any countenance, and so it was in the time of Phidias. Apel. Then had men fewer fancies, and women not so many favours. For now, if the hair of her eyebrows be black, yet must the hair of her head be yellow: the attire of her head must be different from the habit of her body, else would the picture seem like the blazon of ancient armoury, not like the sweet delight of new-found amiableness. For as, in garden knots, diversity of odours make a more sweet savour, or as, in music, divers strings cause a more delicate consent, so in painting, the more colours the better counterfeit; observing black for a ground, and the rest for grace. Alex. Lend me thy pencil, Apelles; I will paint, and thou shalt judge. Apel. Here. Alex. The coal breaks. Apel. Your eye goeth not with your hand. Apel. Your hand goeth not with your mind. Alex. Nay, if all be too hard or soft, so many rules and regards, that one's hand, one's eye, one's mind must all draw together, I had rather be setting of a battles than blotting of a board.10 But how have I done here? Apel. Like a king. Alex. I think so; but nothing more unlike a painter. Well, Apelles, Campaspe is finished as I wish; dismiss her, and bring presently her counterfeit after me. Apel. I will. Alex. Now, Hephestion, doth not this matter cotton" as I would? Campaspe looketh pleasantly; liberty will increase her beauty, and my love shall advance her honour. Hep. I will not contrary12 you, your Majesty; for time must wear out that love hath wrought, and reason wean what appetite nursed. Psyllus. I shall be hanged for tarrying so long. Manes. I pray God my master be not flown before I come. Psyllus. Away, Manes! my master doth come. Apel. Who was here sithens my coming? Apel. Ungracious wag, I perceive you have been aloitering. Was Alexander nobody? Psyllus. He was a king; I meant no mean body. was Apel. I will cudgel your body for it, and then will I say was no body, because it was no honest body. Away in. Exit Psyllus.] Unfortunate Apelles, and therefore unfortunato because Apelles! Hast thou, by drawing her beauty, brought to pass that thou canst scarce draw thine own breath? And by so much the more hast thou increased thy care, by how much the more thou hast showed thy cunning it not sufficient to behold the fire, and warm thee, but with Satyrus thou must kiss the fire and burn thee? O Campaspe, Campaspe, art must yield to nature, reason to appetite, wisdom to affection! Could Pygmalion 2 entreat by prayer to have his ivory turned into flesh? and cannot Apelles obtain by plaints to have the picture of his love changed to life? Is painting so far inferior to carving? or dost thou, Venus, more delight to be hewed with chisels then shadowed with colours? What Pygmalion, or what Pyrgoteles, or what Lysippus is he, that ever made thy face so fair, or spread thy fame so far as I? unless Venus, in this thou enviest mine art, that in colouring my sweet Campaspe, I have left no place by cunning to make thee so amiable. But alas! she is the paramour to a prince: Alexander, the monarch of the earth, hath both her body and affection. For what is it that kings cannot obtain by prayers, threats, and promises? Will not she think it better to sit under a cloth of estate like a queen, than in a poor shop like a housewife? and esteem it sweeter to be the concubine of the lord of the Alex. How stately she passeth by, yet how soberly! a sweet consent in her countenance with a chaste disdain !15 desire mingled with coy-world, than spouse to a painter in Athens? Yes, yes, Apelles, thou mayest swim against the stream with the crab, and feed against the wind with the deer, and peck against the steel with the cockatrice: stars are to be looked at, not reached 1 Dodsley (ed. 1744) reads courteous: yielding modesty, i.e. modesty without prudery. 2 Pygmalion, a king of Cyrus, is said to have fallen in love with the ivory image of a maiden, which he himself had made; and, on Venus answering his prayer to breathe life into it, married the maiden. plaints-lamentations, or violent entreaties. 4 Pyrgoteles was a celebrated gem engraver, and Lysippus a distinguished statuary of ancient Greece, both contemporaries of Apelles. 5 The canopy placed over royalty. 6 cockatrice from cock, and Anglo-Saxon ater, a snake; supposed to be produced from a cock's egg, with the head of a cock and body of a serpent. It was said to have a deadly eye, and many fables are told about it. It was supposed to have the power to pierce steel by pecking at it. at; princes to be yielded unto, not contended with; Campaspe to be honoured, not obtained; to be painted, not possessed of thee. O fair face! O unhappy hand! and why didst thou draw it so fair a face? O beautiful countenance! the express image of Venus, but somewhat fresher: the only pattern of that eternity which Jupiter, dreaming asleep, could not conceive again waking. Blush, Venus, for I am ashamed to end thee. Now must I paint things unpossible for mine art, but agreeable with my affections: deep and hollow sighs, sad and melancholy thoughts, wounds and slaughters of conceits, a life posting to death, a death galloping from life, a wayering constancy, an unsettled resolution, and what not, Apelles? And what but Apelles? But as they that are shaken with a fever are to be warmed with clothes, not groans, and as he that melteth in a consumption is to be recured by colices, not conceits; so the feeding canker of my care, the never-dying worm of my heart, is to be killed by counsel, not cries; by applying of remedies, not by replying of reasons. And sith in cases desperate there must be used medicines that are extreme, I will hazard that little life that is left, to restore the greater part that is lost; and this shall be my first practice, for wit must work where authority is not. As soon as Alexander hath viewed this portraiture, I will, by device, give it a blemish, that by that means she may come again to my shop; and then as good it were to utter my love, and die with denial, as conceal it, and live in despair. SONG BY APELLES. Cupid and my Campaspe play'd He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, ACT IV. SCENE I. SOLINUS, PSYLLUS, GRANICHUS, Manes, Sol. This is the place, the day, the time, that Diogenes hath appointed to fly. Psyllus. I will not lose the flight of so fair a fowl as Diogenes is, though my master cudgel my no body, as he threatened. Gran. What, Psyllus, will the beast wag his wings to-day? Psyllus. We shall hear; for here cometh Manes. -Manes, will it be? Manes. Be! he were best be as cunning as a bee, or else shortly he will not be at all. Gran. How is he furnished to fly? hath he feathers? Manes. Thou art an ass! capons, geese, and owls have feathers. He hath found Dedalus' old waxen wings, and hath been piecing them this month, he is so broad in the shoulders. 0, you shall see him cut the air even like a tortoise. Sol. Methinks so wise a man should not be so mad; his body must needs be too heavy. Manes. Why, he hath eaten nothing this sevennight but cork and feathers. Psyllus. Touch him, Manes. Manes. He is so light that he can scarce keep him from flying at midnight. Populus intrat (the Populace enters). Manes. See, they begin to flock; and behold, my master bustles himself to fly. Diog. You wicked and bewitched Athenians, whose bodies make the earth to groan, and whose breaths infect the air with stench. Come ye to see Diogenes fly? Diogenes cometh to see you sink: yea, call me dog; so I am, for I long to gnaw the bones in your skins. Ye term me a hater of men: no, I am a hater of your manners. Your lives dissolute, not fearing death, will prove your deaths desperate, not hoping for life. What do you else in Athens but sleep in the day, and surfeit in the night: back-gods in the morning with pride, in the evening belly-gods with gluttony! You flatter kings, and call them gods; speak truth of yourselves, and confess you are devils! From the bee you have taken not the honey, but the wax, to make your religion; framing it to the time, not to the truth. Your filthy lust you colour under a courtly colour of love; injuries abroad under the title of policies at home; and secret malice creepeth under the name of public justice. You have caused Alexander to dry up springs and plant vines, to sow rocket and weed endive, to shear sheep, and shrine1 foxes. All conscience is sealed at Athens. Swearing cometh of a hot mettle; lying of a quick wit; flattery of a flowing tongue; indecent talk of a merry disposition. All things are lawful at Athens. Either you think there are no gods, or I must think ye are no men. You build as though you should live for ever, and surfeit as though you should die to-morrow. None teacheth true philosophy but Aristotle, because he was the king's schoolmaster! O times! O men! O corruption in manners! Remember that green grass must turn to dry hay. When you sleep, you are not sure to wake; and when you rise, not certain to lie down. Look you never so high, your heads must lie level with your feet. Thus have I flown over your disordered lives; and if you will not amend your manners, I will study to fly farther from you, that I may be nearer to honesty. Sol. Thou ravest, Diogenes, for thy life is different from thy words. Did not I see thee come out of a brothel house? was it not a shame? Diog. It was no shame to go out, but a shame to go in. Gran. It were a good deed, Manes, to beat thy master. Manes. You were as good eat my master. One of the people. Hast thou made us all fools, and wilt thou not fly? Diog. I tell thee, unless thou be honest, I will fly. 1 shrine-enshrine or deify. He means,' says Nares, 'that the Athenians had occasioned Alexander to en courage luxury in preference to utility, and the plunder of the innocent, while he exalted or deified the wicked; this he calls shearing,' &c. |