Act 4 — Scene III.[76]
Reading edition
Scene III.[76]
Corsites solus. [Endymion lies asleep on the lunary bank.]
Corsites. I am come in sight of the lunary bank. Without doubt Tellus doteth upon me, and cunningly, that I might not perceive her love, she hath set me to a task that is done before it is begun. Endymion, you must change 5 your pillow, and if you be not weary of sleep, I will carry you where at ease you shall sleep your fill. It were good that without more ceremonies I took him, lest being espied, I be entrapt, and so incur the displeasure of Cynthia, who 10 commonly setteth watch that Endymion have no wrong. [He tries to lift Endymion.] What now, is your mastership so heavy, or are you nail’d to the ground? Not stir one whit! Then use all thy force, though he feel it and wake. 15 What, stone-still? Turn’d, I think, to earth with lying so long on the earth. Didst not thou, Corsites, before Cynthia, pull up a tree that forty years was fast’ned with roots and wreathed in knots to the ground? Didst not 20 thou, with main force, pull open the iron gates which no ram or engine could move? Have my weak thoughts made brawn-fallen my strong arms, or is it the nature of love, or the quintessence of the mind, to breed numbness or 25 litherness,[77] or I know not what languishing in my joints and sinews, being but the base strings of my body? Or doth the remembrance of Tellus so refine my spirits into a matter so subtle and divine that the other fleshy parts 30 cannot work whilst they muse? Rest thyself, rest thyself; nay, rend thyself in pieces, Corsites, and strive, in spite of love, fortune, and nature, to lift up this dulled body, heavier than dead and more senseless than death. 35
Enter Fairies.
But what are these so fair fiends that cause my hairs to stand upright and spirits to fall down? Hags,—out alas, nymphs, I crave pardon. Ay me, out! what do I hear!
[The Fairies dance, and with a song pinch him, and he falleth asleep. They kiss Endymion and depart.
The Third Song[78] by Fairies
Omnes. Pinch him, pinch him, black and blue,40 Saucy mortals must not view What the Queen of Stars is doing, Nor pry into our fairy wooing. 1 Fairy. Pinch him blue, 2 Fairy. And pinch him black;45 3 Fairy. Let him not lack Sharp nails to pinch him blue and red, Till sleep has rock’d his addle head. 4 Fairy. For the trespass he hath done, Spots o’er all his flesh shall run.50 Kiss Endymion, kiss his eyes, Then to our midnight heidegyes.[79] Exeunt [Fairies].
[Enter, at the side of the stage[80] opposite Corsites,] Cynthia, Floscula, Semele, Panelion, Zontes, Pythagoras, and Gyptes. [Corsites sleeps still.]
Cynth. You see, Pythagoras, what ridiculous opinions you hold, and I doubt not but you are now of another mind. 55
Pythag. Madam, I plainly perceive that the perfection of your brightness hath pierced through the thickness that covered my mind; insomuch that I am no less glad to be reformed than ashamed to remember my 60 grossness.
Gyptes. They are thrice fortunate that live in your palace where truth is not in colours but life, virtues not in imagination but execution.
Cynth. I have always studied to have rather 65 living virtues than painted gods, the body of truth than the tomb. But let us walk to Endymion; it may be it lieth in your arts to deliver him; as for Eumenides, I fear he is dead. 70
Pythag. I have alleged all the natural reasons I can for such a long sleep.
Gyptes. I can do nothing till I see him.
Cynth. Come, Floscula; I am sure you are glad that you shall behold Endymion. 75
Flosc. I were blessed, if I might have him recovered.
Cynth. Are you in love with his person?
Flosc. No, but with his virtue.
Cynth. What say you, Semele? 80
Sem. Madam, I dare say nothing for fear I offend.
Cynth. Belike you cannot speak except you be spiteful; but as good be silent as saucy. Panelion, what punishment were fit for 85 Semele, in whose speech and thoughts is only contempt and sourness?
Panel. I love not, madam, to give any judgment; yet, sith Your Highness commandeth, I think to commit her tongue close prisoner 90 to her mouth.
Cynth. Agreed. Semele, if thou speak this twelvemonth, thou shalt forfeit thy tongue. Behold Endymion![81] Alas, poor gentleman, hast thou spent thy youth in sleep, that once 95 vowed all to my service! Hollow eyes, gray hairs, wrinkled cheeks, and decayed limbs! Is it destiny or deceit that hath brought this to pass? If the first, who could prevent thy wretched stars? If the latter, I would I 100 might know thy cruel enemy. I favoured thee, Endymion, for thy honour, thy virtues, thy affections; but to bring thy thoughts within the compass of thy fortunes, I have seemed strange, that I might have thee staid; and 105 now are thy days ended before my favour begin. But whom have we here? Is it not Corsites?
Zon. It is, but more like a leopard than a man.
Cynth. Awake him. [Zontes wakens Corsites.] How now, Corsites, what make you here? 110 How came you deformed? Look on thy hands, and then thou seest the picture of thy face.
Cors. Miserable wretch, and accursed! How am I deluded! Madam, I ask pardon for my offence, and you see my fortune deserveth pity. 115
Cynth. Speak on; thy offence cannot deserve greater punishment: but see thou rehearse the truth, else shalt thou not find me as thou wishest me.
Cors. Madam, as it is no offence to be in 120 love, being a man mortal, so I hope can it be no shame to tell with whom, my lady being heavenly. Your Majesty committed to my charge fair Tellus, whose beauty in the same moment took my heart captive that I undertook to carry 125 her body prisoner. Since that time have I found such combats in my thoughts between love and duty, reverence and affection, that I could neither endure the conflict, nor hope for the conquest. 130
Cynth. In love? A thing far unfitting the name of a captain, and (as I thought) the tough and unsmoothed nature of Corsites. But forth!
Cors. Feeling this continual war, I thought 135 rather by parley to yield than by certain danger to perish. I unfolded to Tellus the depth of my affections, and framed my tongue to utter a sweet tale of love, that was wont to sound nothing but threats of war. She, too fair to be 140 true and too false for one so fair, after a nice denial, practised a notable deceit, commanding me to remove Endymion from this cabin, and carry him to some dark cave; which I, seeking to accomplish, found impossible; and so by 145 fairies or fiends have been thus handled.
Cynth. How say you, my lords, is not Tellus always practising of some deceits? In sooth, Corsites, thy face is now too foul for a lover, and thine heart too fond for a soldier. You 150 see when warriors become wantons how their manners alter with their faces. Is it not a shame, Corsites, that having lived so long in Mars his camp, thou shouldst now be rocked in Venus’s cradle? Dost thou wear Cupid’s 155 quiver at thy girdle and make lances of looks? Well, Corsites, rouse thyself and be as thou hast been; and let Tellus, who is made all of love, melt herself in her own looseness.
Cors. Madam, I doubt not but to recover 160 my former state, for Tellus’s beauty never wrought such love in my mind as now her deceit hath despite; and yet to be revenged of a woman were a thing than love itself more womanish.
Gyptes. These spots, gentleman, are to be 165 worn out, if you rub them over with this lunary; so that in place where you received this maim you shall find a medicine.
Cors. I thank you for that. The gods bless me from love and these pretty ladies that 170 haunt this green.
Flosc. Corsites, I would Tellus saw your amiable face.
[Semele laughs.]
Zont. How spitefully Semele laugheth, that dare not speak. 175
Cynth. Could you not stir Endymion with that doubled strength of yours?
Cors. Not so much as his finger with all my force.
Cynth. Pythagoras and Gyptes, what 180 think you of Endymion? What reason is to be given, what remedy?
Pyth. Madam, it is impossible to yield reason for things that happen not in compass of nature. It is most certain that some strange enchantment 185 hath bound all his senses.
Cynth. What say you, Gyptes?
Gyptes. With Pythagoras, that it is enchantment, and that so strange that no art can undo it, for that heaviness argueth a malice unremovable 190 in the enchantress, and that no power can end it, till she die that did it, or the heavens show some means more than miraculous.
Flosc. O Endymion, could spite itself devise a mischief so monstrous as to make thee dead 195 with life, and living, being altogether dead? Where others number their years, their hours, their minutes, and step to age by stairs, thou only hast thy years and times in a cluster, being old before thou rememb’rest thou wast young. 200
Cynth. No more, Floscula; pity doth him no good: I would anything else might; and I vow by the unspotted honour of a lady he should not miss it. But is this all, Gyptes, that is to be done? 205
Gyptes. All as yet. It may be that either the enchantress shall die or else be discovered; if either happen, I will then practise the utmost of my art. In the mean season, about this grove would I have a watch, and the first living 210 thing that toucheth Endymion to be taken.
Cynth. Corsites, what say you, will you undertake this?
Cors. Good madam, pardon me! I was overtaken[82] too late. I should rather break into 215 the midst of a main battle than again fall into the hands of those fair babies.
Cynth. Well, I will provide others. Pythagoras and Gyptes, you shall yet remain in my court, till I hear what may be done in this 220 matter.
Pyth. We attend.
Cynth. Let us go in.
Exeunt.