Welcome, my father; but ten times welcome thou, The constant lady mine, that liveth now.
FIDELIA.
And lives Hermione? lives my Hermione?
What can be added more to my felicity?
HERMIONE.
Thy life, my life; such comfort dost thou give: Happy my life, because I see thee live.
BOMELIO.
Whilst they record the sweetness of their bliss, I will apply to further, as they wish, Their[121] sweet delight by magic's cunning so, That happy they shall live in spite of foe.
HERMIONE.
How doubtful are the lets of loyal love!
Great be the dangers that true lovers prove; But when the sun, after a shower of rain, Breaks through the clouds and shows his might again, More comfortable to [us] his glory then, Because it was awhile withheld of men.
Peace after war is pleasanter, we find; A joy deferr'd is sweeter to the mind: So I----
FIDELIA.
It hath been said that, when Ulysses was Ten years at Troy, and ten years more, alas!
Wandering abroad as chance and fortune led, Penelope supposing him for dead: But he, providing still for afterclaps, When he had 'scap'd a thousand hard mishaps, It did him good to reckon up at last Unto his wife his travails he had pass'd, And sweetly then recording his distress To make the more account of happiness.
So I----
HERMIONE.
Then, as the turtle that hath found her mate Forgets her former woes and wretched state, Renewing now her drooping heart again, Because her pleasure overcomes her pain; The same of thy desired sight I make, Whereon thy faith, thy heart and hand I take.
FIDELIA.
And so I swear to thee unfeignedly To live thine own, and eke thine own to die.
_Enter_ BOMELIO.
BOMELIO.
Gog's blood! villains! the devil is in the bed of straw! Wounds! I have been robb'd, robb'd, robb'd! where be the thieves? My books, books! did I not leave thee with my books? Where are my books? my books! where be my books, villain? arrant villain!
HERMIONE.
O father! my dear father, hark.
BOMELIO.
Father, my dear father? Soul! give me my books. Let's have no more tarrying: the day begins to be dark; it rains: it begins with tempests.
Thunder and lightning! fire and brimstone! And all my books are gone, and I cannot help myself, nor my friends. What a pestilence! who came there?
HERMIONE.
I'll tell you, father, if you please to hear.
BOMELIO.
What can'st thou tell me? tell me of a turd. What, and a' come? I conjure thee, foul spirit, down to hell! Ho, ho, ho! the devil, the devil! A-comes, a-comes, a-comes upon me, and I lack my books. Help!
help! help! Lend me a sword, a sword! O, I am gone!
[_He raves_.
FIDELIA.
Alas! how fell he to this madding mood?
HERMIONE.
The heavens and earth deny to do us good!
FIDELIA.
O father! my good father, look on me.
BOMELIO.
What meant I not to shut up the door, and take the keys with me, and put the books under the bed-straw? Out, you whore! a whore, a whore!
Gog's blood! I'll dress you for a whore. I have a cause to curse whores as long as I live. Come away, come away! Give me my books, my books: give me, give me, give!
[_Exit_.
FIDELIA.
Help, help me, good Hermione!
[_Exit_.
HERMIONE.
I come. O[122] worlds of misery!
Confounded on the top of my delight; The Fates and Fortune thus against me fight.
[_Exit_.
[_Enter_ VENUS _and_ FORTUNE.]
FORTUNE'S _triumph: sound trumpets, drums, cornets, and guns_.
FORTUNE.
See, madam, who can dash your bravery, Even at the pitch of your felicity?
When you assure that they shall steadfast stand, Even then my power I suddenly can show, Transposing it, as it had never been so.
Herein I triumph, herein I delight.
Thus have I manifested now my might.
Here, ladies, learn to like of Venus' lure, And me love--long your pleasures shall endure.
VENUS.
Now thou hast done even what thou canst, I see, They shall be once again relieved by me.
[_Music, Music_.
THE FIFTH ACT.
_Enter_ MERCURY.
MERCURY.
Ye goddesses of this eternity, To whom of right belongs each earthly thing, The king of gods salutes ye both by me; And (I beseech you) mark the news I bring.
My father Jupiter, perceiving well What hath herein been[123] done by each of you, And[124] how ye still endeavour to excel, Maintaining that whereon the quarrel grew-- That is, the government of this estate, And unto whom the sovereignty shall fall-- Here, therefore, to conclude your long debate, Lest your contention may be counted general, Desires ye both, and so commands by me, Ye stand to his conclusion of the cause.
How say you, therefore? will you now agree, That malice may no longer right delude?