GREEN'S TU QUOQUE: OR, THE CITY GALLANT. A COMEDY. BY JOSEPH COOKE. Men more niggardly of their love than women. Hung on the lover's tear-commixed smile, How ruthless men are to adversity! My acquaintance scarce will know me; when we meet Prodigality. That which gilded over his imperfections, And 21 This is so like Shakspeare, that one seems almost to remember it as a speech of Desdemona's upon perceiving an alteration in the behaviour of the Moor, And glides to many rivers; so his wealth, THE COMEDY OF OLD FORTUNATUS. BY THO MAS DECKER. The Goddess Fortune appears to Fortunatus, and offers him the choice of six things. He chuses Riches. FORTUNE. FORTUNATUS. Fortune. Before thy soul at this deep lottery Draw forth her prize, ordain'd by destiny, Know that here's no recanting a first choice.. Chuse then discreetly for the laws of fate, Being grav'n in steel, must stand inviolate. Fortunat. Daughters of Jove and the unblemish'd Night, Most righteous Parcæ, guide my genius right: Wisdom, Strength, Health, Beauty, Long Life, and Riches. Fortune, Stay Fortunatus; once more hear me speak, If thou kiss Wisdom's cheek and make her thine, She'll breathe into thy lips divinity, And thou (like Phoebus) shall speak oracle; Thy heav'n-inspired soul on Wisdom's wings And see what's past and learn what is to come. Make Health thine object, thou shalt be strong proof 'Gainst 'Gainst the deep searching darts of surfeiting, Wish but for Beauty, and within thine eyes And on thy cheeks I'll mix such white and red, Fortunat. O whither am I rapt beyond myself? To himself he lives and to all else seems dead. Than of a threadbare saint in Wisdom's school. And though mine arm should conquer twenty worlds, The greatest Strength expires with loss of breath, And And it at length will have the victory. Therefore, dread sacred Empress, make me rich: Fortune gives to Fortunatus a Purse that is inexhaustible. With this he puts on costly attire, and visits all the Asian Courts, where he is caressed and made much of for his infinite wealth. At Babylon he is shewn by the Soldan a wondrous Hat, which in a wish transports the wearer whithersoever he pleases, over land and sea. Fortunatus puts it on, wishes himself at home in Cyprus; where he arrives in a minute, as his sons Ampedo and Andelocia are talking of him: and tells his Travels. FORTUNATUS. AMPEDO. ANDELOCIA. Fort. Touch me not, boys, I am nothing but air, let none speak to me till you have marked me well.-Am I as you are, or am I transformed? And. Methinks, father, you look as you did, only your face is more withered. Fort. Boys, be proud; your father hath the whole world in this compass. I am all felicity, up to the brims. In a minute am I come from Babylon; I have been this half hour in Famagosta. And. How! in a minute, father? I see travellers must 'lie. Fort. I have cut through the air like a falcon. I would have it seem strange to you. But 'tis true. I would not have you believe it neither. But 'tis miraculous and true. Desire to see you brought me to Cyprus. I'll leave you more gold, and go to visit more countries. Amp. The frosty hand of age now nips your blood, And strews her snowy flowers upon your head, ; And. Faith, father, what pleasure have you met by walking your stations? Fort. What pleasure, boy? I have revelled with Kings, danced with Queens, dallied with Ladies; worn strange attires; seen Fantasticoes; conversed with Humourists; been ravished with divine raptures of Doric, Lydian and Phrygian harmonies; I have spent the day in triumphs and the night in banquetting. And. O rare: this was heavenly.-He that would not be an Arabian Phoenix to burn in these sweet fires, let him live like an owl for the world to wonder at. Amp. Why, brother, are not all these Vanities ? Fort. Vanities! Ampedo, thy soul is made of lead, too dull, too ponderous, to mount up to the incomprehensible glory that Travel lifts men to. And. Sweeten mine ears, good father, with some more. Fort. When in the warmth of mine own country's arms We yawn'd like sluggards, when this small horizon Imprison'd up my body, then mine eyes Worship'd these clouds as brightest: but, my boys, For still in all the regions I have seen, I scorn'd to croud among the muddy throng There shall you see troops of chaste Goddesses, Whose |