DANAE

Like a prison: What is it else? you give me golden fetters, As if their valve could my bondage lessen. That which alone is better then all these, My liberty. Why am I cloistered thus, And kept a prisoner from the sighed of man? What hath my innocence and infancy Deserved to be immured in brazen walls? Can you accuse my faith, or modesty? Hath any lose demeanour in my carriage Bred this distrust? hath my eye played the rioter? Or hath my tongue been lavish? have my favours Vn-virginlike to any been profuse, That it should breed in you such jealousy, Or bring me to this durance? Did he bestow these freely? Dana's guard Are much indebted to King Jupiter. If he have store we'll buy some for our use, And wearing. They are wondrous beautiful, Where's the man that brought them? Much have I herd of his renown in arms, His generousness, his virtues, and his fullness Of all that Nature can bequeathe to man. His bounty I now taste, and I could wish, Your ear were his, that I might let him know What interest he hath in me to command, We are amazed, and the large difference Betwixt your name and habit, breeds in us Fear and distrust. Yet if I censure freely I needs must think that face and personage Was never derived from baseness. And the spirit To venture and to dare to court a Queen I cannot style less then to be a Kings. Say that we grant you to be Jupiter, What thence infer you? So far as Jupiter loves Dana's honour, So far will Danae love Jupiter. Beware your ruin, if you Beldames hear. All this is true. You covet that, which save the Prince of Creet None dares. Both I do. But all things hinder, yet were Danae free, She could affect the Cretan. Which Danae must repeal. O Jupiter. I must hence: For if I stay, I yield: Il'e hence, no more. Yond is my door, Dare not to enter there. I will to rest. Attendance. You had not best. Command our Eunuch's with their pleasingest tunes To charm our eyes to rest. Leave us all, leave us. The God of dreams hath with his downy fan Swept over our eyelids, and sits heavy on them. Then to your chambers, & let wakelesse slu ̄ bers Charm you in depth of silence and repose. Let music through this brazen fortress found Till all our hearts in depth of sleep be drowned. Who's that? What mean you Prince? how dare you enter here? Knowing if I but call, your life is doomed, And all Creetes treasure cannot guard your person. Il'e love you too, Would you but leave me. Beshrew you sir, that for your amorous pleasure Could thus sort all things, person, place and leisure. Exclaim I could, and a loud uproar keep, But that you say the Crones are all a sleep: And to what purpose should I raise such fear, My voice being soft, they fast, and cannot hear? Kisses, tush. I'll sink into my sheets, for I shall blush. I'll dive into my bed. Good my Lord forbear What do you mean? (o heaven) is no man near, If you will needs, for modesties chased law, Before you come to bed, the curtains draw, But do not come, you shall not by this light, If you but offer't, I shall cry out right. O God, how hoarse am I, and cannot? fie Danae thus naked and a man so nigh. Pray leave me sir: he makes unready still, Well I'll even wink, and then do what you will. All men prove false, if Jove be found untrue. The Oracle? Wherein unto the least of all the Gods Hath Danae been unthankful, or profane, To bondage me that am a princess free, And votaress to every deity? See your vain fears. What less could Phœbus say? Or what hath Danae's fate deserved in this? To turn you into stone; that's to prepare Your monument, and marble sepulcher. The meaning is, that I a son shall have, That when you die shall bear you to your graven. Are you not mortal? would you ever live? Your father died, and to his Monument You Like a mourner did attend his hearse. What you did to your father, let my son Perform to you, prepare your sepulcher. Or shall a stranger bear you to your tomb, When from your own blood you may store a Prince To do those sacred rights: or shall vain fears Cloister my beauty, and consume my years? If sent to Danae, It's endue to me. And would the King of Creet, Knew with what gratitude we take his gift. Alas my Lord I never loved till now, And will you leave me? Then farewell, No sooner meet but partly? Remember me: For you great Prince I never shall forget! I fear you have left too sure a token with me Of your remembrance. But should you fail?