The TRIUMPH.
Enter Musicians: next them, Perolot with the wound he died with. Then Gabriella and Maria, with their wounds: after them, four Furies with Bannerets incrib'd Revenge, Murder, Lust and Drunkenness, singing. Next them, Lavall wounded. Then [a] Chariot with Death drawn by the Destinies. [Flourish.
Enter PROLOGUE.
From this sad sight ascend your noble eye,
And see old Time helping triumphantly,
Helping his Master Man: view here his vanities
And see his false friends like those glutted flyes,
That when they've suckt their fill, fall off, and fade
From all remembrance of him, like a shade.
And last, view who relieves him; and that gone,
We hope your favour, and our Play is done. [Flourish.
Enter Anthropos, Desire, and Vain Delight; Bounty.
Ant. What hast thou done, Desire, and how imploy'd
The charge I gave thee, about levying wealth
For our supplies?
Desire. I have done all, yet nothing:
Tri'd all, and all my ways, yet all miscarried;
There dwells a sordid dulness in their mindes
Thou son of earth, colder then that thou art made of,
I came to Craft, found all his hooks about him,
And all his nets baited and set; his slie self
And greedie Lucre at a serious conference
Which way to tie the world within their statutes:
Business of all sides and of all sorts swarming
Like Bees broke loose in summer: [I] declared
Your will and want together, both inforcing
With all the power and pains I had, to reach him;
Yet all fell short.
Anth. His answer.
Desire. This he gave me.
Your wants are never ending; and those supplies
That came to stop those breaches, are ever lavisht
Before they reach the main, in toys and trifles,
Gew-gaws, and gilded puppets: Vain delight
He says has ruin'd ye, with clappi[n]g all
That comes in for support, on clothes, and Coaches,
Perfumes, and powder'd pates; and that your Mistris,
The Lady Pleasure, like a sea devours
At length both you and him too. If you have houses,
Or land, or jewels, for good pawn, he'll hear you,
And will be readie to supplie occasions;
If not, he locks his ears up, and grows stupid.
From him, I went to Vanity, whom I found
Attended by [a]n endless troop of Tailors,
Mercers, Embroiderers, Feather-makers, Fumers,
All occupations opening like a Mart,
That serve to rig the body out with braverie;
And th'row the roome new fashions flew like flyes,
In thousand gaudie shapes; Pride waiting on her,
And busily surveying all the breaches
Time and delaying Nature had wrought in her,
Which still with art she piec'd again, and strengthened:
I told your wants; she shew'd me gowns and head-tires,
Imbroider'd wastcoats, smocks seam'd thorow with cut-works,
Scarfs, mantles, petticoats, muffs, powders, paintings,
Dogs, monkeys, parrots, which all seemed to shew me
The way her money went. From her to Pleasure
I took my journey.