Cuts with his vent'rous feathers through the sky,
And 'lights not till he finds the Turkish court.
Thither transport your eyes, and there behold him
Revelling with the emperor of the East;

From whence (through fear) for safeguard of his life
Flying into the arms of ugly night,

Suppose you see him brought to Babylon;

And that the sun (clothed all in fire) hath rid

One quarter of his hot celestial way

With the bright morning; and that in this instant
He and the Soldan meet; but what they say,
List you, the talk of kings none dare bewray.

Enter the SOLDAN, his NOBLEMEN, and FORTUNATUS.

Sol. Art thou that Fortunatus, whose great name,
Being carried in the chariot of the winds,
Has fill'd the courts of all our Asian kings
With love and envy; whose dear presence tics
The eyes of admiration to thine eyes?

Art thou that Jove that in a shower of gold
Appearedst before the Turkish emperor?

Fort. I am that Fortunatus, mighty Soldan.

[Exil.

Sol. Where is that purse which threw abroad such treasure? Fort. I gave it to the Turkish Solomon ;

A second I bestowed on Prester John;

A third the great Tartarian Cham received;

For with these monarchs have I banqueted,

And rid with them in triumphs through their courts,

In crystal chariots drawn by unicorns :

England, France, Spain, and wealthy Belgia,
And all the rest of Europe's blessed daughters,
Have made my covetous eye rich in th' embrace
Of their celestial beauties; now I come

To see the glory of fair Babylon.

Is Fortunatus welcome to the Soldan?

For I am like the sun, if Jove once chide,

My gilded brows from amorous heaven I hide.

Sol. Most welcome; and most happy are mine arms

In eircling such an earthly deity :

But will not Fortunatus make me blessed

By sight of such a purse?

Fort. Ere I depart,

The Soldan shall receive one at my hands,

For I must spend some time in framing it;

And then some time to breathe that virtuous spirit
Into the heart thereof; all which is done

By a most sacred inspiration.

Sol. Welcome, most welcome, to the Soldan's court;
Stay here, and be the king of Babylon;
Stay here, and I will more amaze thine eyes,
With wondrous sights, than can all Asia.
Behold yon tower; there stands my armory,
In which are corslets forg'd of beaten gold,
To arm ten hundred thousand fighting men;
Whose glittering squadrons when the sun beholds,
They seem like to ten hundred thousand Joves,
When Jove on the proud back of thunder rides,
Trapp'd all in lightning flames: there can I shew thee
The ball of gold that set all Troy on fire;

There shalt thou see the scarf of Cupid's mother,
Snatch'd from the soft moist ivory of her arm,

To wrap about Adonis' wounded thigh;

There shalt thou see a wheel of Titan's car,

Which dropp'd from heaven when Phaeton fir'd the world:
I'll give thee (if thou wilt) two silver doves,
Compos'd by magic to divide the air,

Who (as they fly) shall clap their silver wings,
And give strange music to the elements;
I'll give thee else the fan of Proserpine,
Which in reward (for a sweet Thracian song)
The black-brow'd empress threw to Orpheus,
Being come to fetch Euridice from hell.

Fort. Hath ever mortal eye beheld these wonders?
Sol. Thine shall behold them, and make choice of any,

So thou wilt give the Soldan such a purse.

Fort. By Fortune's blessed hand, (who christened me),

The mighty Soldan shall have such a purse,

Provided I may see these prizeless wonders.

Sol. Leave us alone. (Exeunt Nobles.) Never was mortal ear Acquainted with the virtue of a jewel,

Which now I'll show, (out-valuing all the rest).

Fort. It is impossible.

Sol. Behold this casket,

Fettered in golden chains; the lock pure gold;

The key of solid gold, which myself keep;

[Draws a cartain.

And here's the treasure that's contain'd in it. [Takes out the hat. Fort. A coarse felt hat: Is this the precious jewel?

Sol. I'd not exchange this for ten diadems. On pain of death, none listen to our talk!

Fort. What needs this solemn conjuration?

Sol. Oh, yes; for none shall understand the worth
Of this inestimable ornament,

But you; and yet not you, but that you swear
By her white hand that lent you such a name,
To leave a wondrous purse in Babylon.

Fort. What I have sworn I will not violate;
But now uncover the virtues of this hat.

Sol. I think none listen; if they do, they die.
Fort. None listen: tell; what needs this jealousy?
Sol. You see 'tis poor in show; did I want jewels,
Gold could beget them; but the wide world's wealth
Buys not this hat; this clapp'd upon my head
I (only with a wish) am through the air,
Transported in a moment over seas,
And over lands, to any secret place;
By this I steal to any princes' court,
And hear their private councils, and prevent
All dangers which to Babylon are meant:
By help of this I oft see armies join,

Though when the dreadful Alvarado* sounds,

I am distant from the place a thousand leagues.
Oh, had I such a purse and such a hat,

The Soldan were, of all, most fortunate!

Fort. Oh, had I such a hat, then were I brave! Where's he that made it?

Sol. Dead: and the whole world

Yields not a workman that can frame the like.

Fort. None does? (aside). By what trick shall I make this mine? Methinks, methinks, when you are borne o'er seas

And over lands, the heaviness thereof

Should weigh you down; drown you, or break your
Sol. No; 'tis more light than any hat beside:

Your hand shall peise it.

Fort. Oh, 'tis wondrous heavy.

Sol. Fie, you're deceived; try it upon your head.

neck.

Fort. (Puts the hat on.) Would I were now in Cyprus with my

sons.

Sol. Stay, Fortunatus, stay! I am undone.

This word, which is evidently Spanish, I could not find in the dictionaries, but understand, although on no very good authority, that it is a term used amongst the Spanish soldiery for the parade call.-Note by Mr. Dilke.

Treason, lords! treason! get me wings, I'll fly
After this damned traitor through the air.

Enter NOBLES.

Nobles. Who wrongs the mighty king of Babylon?
Sol. This Fortunatus, this fiend wrongs your king.
Nobles. Lock the court gates! where is the devil hid ?
Sol. No gates, no grates of iron imprison him;
Like a magician breaks he through the clouds,
Bearing my soul with him; for, that jewel gone,
I am dead, and all is dross in Babylon.
Fly after him! 'tis vain; on the wind's wings,

He'll ride through all the courts of earthly kings.

Andelocia has squandered all the gold that his father gave him. He comes to Ampedo to borrow, and is thus received :

still liv'd poor;

Want would make wisdom rich; but when your coffers
Swell to the brim, then riot sets up sails,
And, like a desperate unskill'd mariner,
Drives your unsteady fortunes on the point
Of wrack inevitable; of all the wealth
Left by our father, when he left us last,
This little is unspent; and this being wasted,
Your riot ends; therefore consume it all.
I'll live; or dying, find some burial.

[Gives him a bag.

Fortunatus arrives, having "cut through the air like a falcon." He tells his sons that desire to see them brought him to Cyprus―he 'll leave them more gold, and go visit other countries. Ampedo reproves him :—

The frosty hand of age now nips your blood,
And strews her snowy flowers upon your head,

And gives you warning that within few years,

Death needs must marry you; those short-lived minutes
That dribble out your life, must needs be spent
In peace, not travel: rest in Cyprus then.
Could you survey ten worlds, yet you must die;
And bitter is the sweet that's reap'd thereby.
But the end is approaching. Fortunatus says,-

In these two hands do I gripe all the world.
This leather purse, and this bald woollen hat,
Make me a monarch: here's my crown and sceptre.

In progress will I now go through the world;

I'll crack your shoulders, boys, with bags of gold,
Ere I depart on Fortune's wings I ride,

And now sit in the height of human pride.

Fortune appears, with the three Destinies, and cuts short his boastings

For. Now, fool, thou liest; where thy proud fect do tread,

These shall throw down thy cold and breathless head.

[Fortunatus and the others kneel.

Fort. O sacred deity! what sin is done,
That death's iron fist should wrestle with thy son?

For. Thou art no son of Fortune, but her slave.
Thy cedar hath aspir'd to his full height;
Thy sun-like glory hath advanc'd herself
Unto the top of pride's meridian,

And down amain it comes! From beggary
I plum'd thee like an ostrich; like that ostrich,
Thou hast eaten metals, and abus'd my gifts;
Hast play'd the ruffian, wasted that in riots,
Which as a blessing I bestowed on thee.

Fort. Forgive me! I will be more provident.
For. No, endless follies follow endless wealth.
Thou hadst thy fancy, I must have thy fate,
Which is, to die when th' art most fortunate.
This inky thread thy ugly sins have spun,
Black life, black death; faster! that it were done.
Fort. Oh, let me live, but till I can redeem—
For. The Destinies deny thee longer life.
Fort. I am but now lifted to happiness.

For. And now take I most pride to cast thee down.
Hadst thou chosen wisdom, this black had been white,
And death's stern brow could not thy soul affright.

Fort. Take this again: (offering the purse) give wisdom to my sons.
For. No, fool, 'tis now too late; as death strikes thee,

So shall their ends sudden and wretched be.

Jove's daughters (righteous Destinies) make haste!
His life hath wasteful been, and let it waste.

Fortunatus droops. He tells his sons how he became possessed of the purse and the cap-bequeaths his treasures to both equally, not to be divided, and exhorts them never to betray their virtues. He then dies. Andelocia disregards his injunctions, and persuades his brother to let him have the purse for a year, and to be content with the cap; for he says, "having this mint, he shall want no wishing-cap, for gold is an