_Enter_ Orsames, Geron.
_Ger_. May I not know what ‘tis afflicts you so?
You were not wont to hide your Soul from me.
_Ors_. Nor wou’d I now, knew I but how to tell thee;
Oh, _Geron_, thou hast hitherto so frighted me
With thoughts of Death, by Stories which thou tell’st
Of future Punishment i’th’ other World,
That now I find thou’st brought me to endure
Those Ills from Heaven thou say’st our Sins procure.
There’s not a little God of all the Number
That does not exercise his Arts on me,
And practise Power, which by my suffering
He grows more mighty in--I’ll not endure it.
_Ger_. Why not, as well as I?
_Ors_. Thou may’st do what thou wilt; but there’s a Difference
(As vast as ‘twixt the Sun and lesser Lights)
Between thy Soul and mine;
Thou canst contented sit whole Days together,
And entertain thy Lute, that dull Companion,
Till duller Sleep does silence it and thee:
But I, whose active Soul despise that drousy God,
Can ever dare him in his height of Power:
Then when he ties thee to thy lazy Couch,
Where thou’rt so far from Sense, thou’st lost thy Soul;
Even then, my Geron, my divertive Fancy
Possesses me, beyond thy waking Thought--
But, _Geron_, all was but an airy Dream;
I wak’d, and found my self a thing like thee.
_Ger_. What was your Dream?
_Ors_. Why, I will try to tell it thee
--Methought I saw the Firmament divide,
And all the Clouds, like Curtains, draw aside;
The Sun in all his Glories, ne’er put on
So bright a Ray, nor Heaven with more Lustre shon!
The Face of Heaven too bright for mortal Eye
Appear’d, and none durst gaze upon’t but I;
In Jove’s illustrious Throne I only sat,
Whilst all the lesser Gods did round me wait;
My Habit, such as cannot be exprest;
Iris in all her various Colours drest,
The Morning-Sun, nor Sun-declining Sky,
Was half so beautiful, so gay, as I.
The brightest Stars in all Heaven’s Canopy
Were chosen out to make a Crown for me;
With which methought they glorify’d my Brow,
And in my Hand they plac’d the Thunder too;
The World was mine, and thousands such as thou,
Still as I moved, low to the Earth did bow;
Like thronging Curls upon the wanton Sea,
They strove, and were as numerous as they:
Thither I soon descended in a Cloud;
But in the midst of the adoring Croud,
Almighty Woman at my Feet did bow,
Adorn’d with Beauties more than Heaven can show:
But one among the rest (for there were store)
Whilst all did me, I did that one adore;
She did unking me, and her wondrous Eyes
Did all my Power and Thunder too despise;
Her Smiles could calm me, and her Looks were Law;
And when she frown’d, she kept my Soul in awe.
Oh, _Geron_, while I strive to tell the rest,
I feel so strange a Passion in my Breast,
That though I only do relate a Dream,
My Torments here would make it real seem.
_Ger_. ‘Tis lucky that he takes it for a Dream. [Aside.
--Pray do not form Ideas in your Fancy,
And suffer them to discompose your Thoughts.
_Ors_. In spite of your Philosophy, they make
A strange Impression on me.
_Ger_. That’s perfect Madness, Sir.
_Ors. Geron_, I will no longer be impos’d upon,
But follow all the Dictates of my Reason.
--Come tell me, for thou hast not done so yet,
How Nature made us; by what strange Devices.
Tell me where ‘twas you lighted on me first;
And how I came into thy dull Possession?
Thou say’st we are not born immortal,
And I remember thou wert still as now,
When I could hardly call upon thy Name,
But as thou wouldst instruct my lisping Tongue;
And when I ask’d thee who instructed thee,
Thoud’st sigh, and say a Man out-worn by Age,
And now laid in the Earth--but tell me, Geron,
When time has wasted thee, for thou’rt decaying,
Where shall I find some new-made Work of Nature,
To teach those Precepts to, I’ve learnt of thee?
--Why art thou silent now?
_Ger_. You ought not, Sir, to pry into the hidden Secrets of the Gods.
_Ors_. Come, tell not me of Secrets, nor of Gods--
What is’t thou studiest for, more new Devices?
Out with ‘em--this Sulleness betrays thee;
And I have been too long impos’d upon.
I find my self enlightened on a sudden,
And ev’ry thing I see instructs my Reason;
’. has been enslav’d by thee--come, out without it.
_Ger_. I dare not, Sir.
_Ors_. Who is’t thou fear’st?
_Ger_. The Anger of the Gods,
Who will not have their high Decrees reveal’d,
Till they themselves unfold ‘em in their Oracles.
_Ors_. What are those Oracles?
_Ger_. Heavenly Voices, Sir, that expound what’s writ
In the Eternal Book of Destiny.
_Ors_. I’ll know what’s writ in that eternal Book,
Or let thee know what it contains of thee.
_Ger_. What will you do?
_Ors_. Throw thee into the Sea; by Jupiter, I will.
[_Offers to take him up_.
_Ger_. Stay, _Orsames_--
’.is true, I have Commands from _Cleomena_,
But yet the Time is hardly ripe for the Design. [_Aside_.
_Ors_. Begin your Story--or, by Heaven--
_Ger_. I shall--When you consider who I am,
With how much Care and Toil I’ve brought you up;
How I have made my aged Arms your Cradle,
And in my Bosom lull’d you to your rest;
How when you wept, my Tears kept time with yours,
And how your Smiles would dry again those Showers;
You will believe ‘tis my Concern for you,
And not your Threats, makes me declare a Truth.
_Ors_. Forward, my dearest _Geron_,
Whilst I as silent as a healthy Sleep,
As growth of Flowers, or motion of the Air,
Attend each long’d-for Syllable thou breath’st.
_Ger_. Be pleas’d to walk into the Garden, Sir,
And there I’ll tell you Wonders to ensue;
But first, great Sir, your Pardon for the past.
[_Kneels_.
_Ors_. I give it thee--Gods, this is fine indeed!
Thy Language and thy Mien are altered.
Oh, how my Soul’s inlarg’d already! go, lead the way.
[_Exeunt_.