Cynthia's revels

Cynthia's Revels
Ben Jonson
Prepared from 1601 Quarto (STC 14773) by Hugh Craig, D of English, U of Newcastle. OTA A-1436-A

1. AP

1.1. SP.1

Enter three of the Children.
W Pray you away; why Children? Gods son: what do you meane? Mary that you shall not speake the Prologue Sir. Why? do you hope to speake it? Aye, and I think I have most right to it; I am sure I studied it first. That is all one, if the Author think I can speake it better. I plead possession of the Cloake: Gentles, your suffrages for Gods sake. Why Children, are you not ashamed? come in there.
Within.
W 'Slid, I will play nothing in the Play: unless I speake it. Why? Will you stand to most voyces of the Gentlemen? let that decide it. O no Sir Gallant; you presume to have the start of us there, and that makes you offer so bountifully. No, would I were whipt, if I had any such thought; trye it by Lots either. Faith, I dare tempt my Fortune, in a greater venter then this. Well said resolute Iack: I am Content too; so we draw first make the Cuts. But will you not snatch my Cloake while I am stooping? No, we scorne trechery. Which Cut shall speake it? The shortest. Agreed: Draw. — The shortest is come to the shortest. Fortune was not altogether blind in this: Now Children, I hope I shall go forward without your Enuy. A spight of all mischeiuous lucke: I was once plucking at the other. Stay Iack: 'Slid I will do somewhat now afore I go in, though it be nothing but to reuenge myself on the AUTHOR; since I speake not his Prologue. I will go tell all the Argument of his Play aforehand, and so stale his Inuention to the Auditory before it come foorth.
At the breaches in this speech following, the other two Boyes interrupt him.
W O do not so. By no meanes. First the Title of his Play is CYNTHIAS Reuels, as any man (that hath hope to be sau'd by his Booke) can witnesse; the Scene, GARGAPHIA: which I do vehemently suspect for some Fustian Countrey; but let that vanish. Here is the Court of Cynthia; whither he brings Cupid (trauailing on foote) resolu'd to turne Page: By the way Cupid meetes with Mercury, (as that is a thing to be noted, take any of our Play-bookes without a Cupid, or a Mercury in it, and burne it for an Heretique in Poetry) — Pray thee let me alone: Mercurie, he, (in the nature of a Coniurer) rayses up Echo: who weepes over her Loue, or Daffodill Narcissus, a little; sings; cursses the Spring wherein the pretty foolish Gentleman melted himself away: and there is an end of her — Now, I am to informe you, that Cupid, and Mercury do both become Pages: Cupid attends on Philautia, or Selfe-loue, a Court-Lady: Mercury followes Hedon the voluptuous Courtier; one that rankes himself even with Anaides, or the impudent Gallant, (and, that is my part:) a Fellow that keepes Laughter the daughter of Folly (a wenche in Boyes attire) to wayte on him — These, in the Court, meete with Amorphus, or the Deformed, a Trauailer that hath drunke of the Fountaine, and there tels the wonders of the Water; they presently dispatch away their Pages with Bottles to fetch of it, and themselves go to visit the Ladyes: But I should have tolde you — Looke, these Emets put me out here: that with this Amorphus, there comes along along a Citizens heire, Asotus, or the Prodigall, who (in Imitation of the Traueller, that hath the Whetstone, following him) entertaines the Begger, to be his Attendant. — Now the Nymphes, who are Mistresses, to these Gallants, are Philautia, Selfe-loue; Phantaste, A light Wittinesse; Argurion, Money; and their Guardian, Mother Moria; or Mistresse Folly. — Pray thee no more. There Cupid strikes Money in loue with the Prodigall; makes her doate upon him, give him Iewels, Bracelets, Carkanets, &c all which (he most ingeniously) departs withall, to be made knowne to the other Ladyes, and Gallants; and in the heate of this, encreases his traine with the Foole to follow him, as well as the Begger — By this time your Begger begins to waite close, who is return'd with the rest of his fellow Bottle-men — There they all drinke saue Argurion, who is falne into a sodaine Apoplexy — Stop his mouth. And then there is a retir'd Scholler there, you would not wish a thing to be better contemn'd of a Society of Gallants, then it is: and he applyes his seruice (good Gentleman) to the Lady Arete, or Virtue, a poore Nymph of Cynthias traine, that is scarce able to buy herself a Gowne, you shall see her play in a Blacke Roabe anone: A creature, that (I assure you) is no lesse scorn'd, then himself. Where am I now? at a stand? Come, leaue at last yet. O, the Night is come, (it was somewhat darke, me thought) and Cynthia intends to come foorth: That helpes it a little yet. All the Courtiers must prouide for Reuels; they conclude upon a Masque, the deuise of which, is — what will you rauish me? that each of these Vices, being to appeare before Cynthia, would seeme other then indeed they are: and therefore assume the most neighbouring Virtues as their masquing Habites — I would crye a Rape but that you are Children. Come, we will have no more of this Anticipation; to give them the Inuentory of their Cates aforehand, were the discipline of a Tauerne, and not fitting this Presence. Tut, this was but to shew us the happinesse of his Memory; I thought at first he would have playde the Ignorant Critique with euery thing along as he had gone; I expected some such Deuise. O you shall see me do that rarely; lend me thy Cloake. Soft Sir, you will speake my Prologue in it? No, would I might neuer stirre then. Lend it him, lend it him: Well, you have sworne? I have. Now Sir; suppose I am one of your Gentile Auditors, that am come in (hauing paide my money at the Doore with much adoe) and here I take my place, and sit downe: I have my three sorts of Tabacco, in my Pocket, my Light by me; and thus I Begin. By Gods son, I wonder that any man is so madde, to come to see these raskally Tits play here — They do act like so many Wrens or Pismires — not the fifth part of a good Face amongst them all — And then their Musique is abhominable — able to stretch a mans Eares worse, then ten — Pillories, and their Ditties — most lamentable things, like the pittifull Fellowes that makes them — Poets. By Gods lid, if it were not for Tabaco — I think — the very stench of them would poyson me, I should not dare to come in at their Gates — A man were better visit fifteene Iayles — or a dozen or two of Hospitals — then once aduenture to come neare them. How is it? well? Excellent; give me my Cloake. Stay; you shall see me do another now: but a more sober, or better-gather'd Gallant; that is (as it may be thought) some Friend, or well-wisher to the House: And here I Enter. What? upon the Stage too? Yes: and I step foorth like one of the Children, and aske you; Would you have Stoole Sir? A Stoole Boy? Aye Sir, if you will give me sixe Pence, I will fetch you one. For what I pray thee? what shall I do with it? O God Sir! will you betraye your Ignorance so much? Why, throne yourself in state on the Stage, as other Gentlemen vse Sir. Away Wag: what wouldst thou make an Implement of me? Slid the Boy takes me for a peice of Prospectiue (I holde my life) or some silke Curtine, come to hang the Stage here: Sir Cracke I am none of your fresh Pictures, that vse to beautifie the decay'd dead Arras, in a publique Theater. It is a signe Sir, you put not that Confidence in your good Clothes, and your better Face, that a Gentleman should do Sir. But I pray you Sir, let me be a Sutor to you, that you will quit our Stage then, and take a Place, the Play is instantly to begin. Most willingly my good wag: but I would speake with your Author, where is he? Not this way, I assure you Sir, we are not so officiously befriended by him, as to have his Presence in the Tiring-house, to prompt us aloud, stampe at the Booke-holder, sweare for our Properties, cursse the poore Tire-man, rayle the Musique out of tune, and sweat for euery veniall trespasse we commit, as some Author would, if he had such fine Ingles as we: well, it is but our bard Fortune. Nay Crack be not dishartned. Not I Sir: but if you please to conferre with our Author by Attorney, you may Sir: our proper self here stands for him. Troth, I have no such serious affayre to negotiate with him; but what may very safely be turn'd upon thy trust: It is in the generall behalfe of this fayre Society here, that I am to speake; at least the more iudicious part of it: which seemes much distasted with the the immodest and obscene writing of many, in their Playes. Besides, they could wish, your Poets would leaue to be Promooters of other mens Iests; and to Way-lay all the stale Apophthegmes, or old Bookes, they can heare of (in Print or otherwise) to farce their Scenes withall: That they would not so penuriously gleane wit, from euery Landresse, or Hackney-man; or deriue their best grace (with seruile Imitation) from Common Stages, or Obseruation of the Company, they conuerse with; as if their Inuention liu'd wholy upon another mans Trecher. Againe; that feeding their friends with nothing of their owne, but what they have twise, or thrise Cook'd) they should not wantonly give out, how soone they had drest it; nor how many Coaches came to cary away the broken-meate, besides Hobby-horses and Foote cloth Nags. So Sir, this is all the Reformation you seeke? It is: do not you think it necessary to be practisd, my little wag? Yes; where, there is any such ill-habited Custome receiu'd. O, I had almost forgot it too: they say, the Vmbræ, or Ghosts of some three or foure Playes, departed a dozen yeares since, have been seene walking on your Stage here; Take heed Boy, if your House be haunted with such Hob-goblins, it will fright away all your Spectators quickly. Good Sir, But what will you say now, if a Poet (vntoucht with any breath of this disease) finde Gods Tokens upon you, that are of the Auditory? As some one Ciuet-Wit among you, that knowes no other Learning, then the price of Satten and Veluets; nor other Perfection, then the wearing of a Neate Sute; and yet will censure as desperately as the most profest Critique in the house: presuming, his Cloathes, should beare him out in it. Another (whom it hath pleas'd Nature to furnish with more Beard, then Brayne) prunes his Mustaccio; lispes; and (with some score of affected Oathes, sweares downe all that sit about him; That the olde Hieronimo, (as it was first acted) was the only best, and Iudiciously-pend Play, of Europe. A thirde great-bellied Iugler talkes of twenty yeares since, and when Monsieur was here; and would enforce all Witte to be of that fashion, because his Doublet is still so. A fourth mis-calles all by the name of Fustian, that his grounded Capacity cannot aspire to. A fifth only shakes his Bottle Head, and out of his Corky Braine, squeezeth out a pittifull-learned Face, and is silent. By my faith, Iack, you have put me downe: I would I knew how to get off with any indifferent Grace: Here take your Cloake, and promise some satisfaction in your Prologue, or (I will be sworne) we have mard all.
Exit.
W Tut feare not Sall: this will neuer distaste a true Sence. Be not out, and good inough: I would thou hadst some Sugar Candyed, to sweeten thy Mouth.
Exit.

1.2. SP.2

U
If gratious silence, sweete Attention,
Quick sight, and quicker apprehension,
(The lights of iudgments throne) shine any wher;
Our doubtful author hopes, this is their Sphære
And therefore opens he himself to those,
To other weaker Beames, his labors close;
As loathe to prostitute their virgin straine,
To euery vulgar, and adulterate braine.
In this alone, his Muse her sweetnesse hath,
She shuns the print of any beaten path;
And prooues new wayes to come to learned eares:
Pied ignorance she neither loues, nor feares.
Nor hunts she after popular applause,
Or fomy praise, that drops from common Iawes;
The garland that she weares, their hands must twine,
Who can both censure, vnderstand, define
What Merrit is: Then cast those piercing rayes,
Round as a crowne, insteed of honor'd Bayes,
About his Poesie; which (he knowes) affoords,
Words above Action: matter, above wordes.
Exit.

2. A1

2.1. S1.1

K Who goes there?
B It is I, blinde Archer.
K Who? Mercurie?
B Aye.
K Farewell.
B Stay Cupid.
K Not in your company Hermes, except your hands were riueted at your backe.
B Why so my little Rouer?
K Because I know, you have not a finger, but is as long as my quiuer, (cousin Mercurie,) when you please to entend it.
B Whence deriue you this speach Boy?
K O! it is your best policie to be Ignorant: you did neuer steale Mars his sworde out of the sheath; you? nor Neptunes Trident; nor Apolloes Bowe; no, not you? Alasse your palmes (Iupiter knowes) they are as tender as the foote of a foundred Nag, or a Ladies face new Mercuried; they will touch nothing.
B Go to (Infant) you will be daring still.
K Daring? O Ianus, what a word is there? why my light fether-heeld Cousse, what are you, any more then my vncle Ioues Pandar, a Lackey that runs on errands for him, and can whisper a light message to a loose wenche with some round volubility, waite at a table with a Trencher, and warble upon a Crowde a little; One that sweepes the Gods drinking roome euery morning, and sets the Cushions in order againe which they threw one at anothers head ouernight? Here is the Catalogue of all your Imploiments now. O no, I erre: you have the Marshalling of all the Ghostes too, that passe the Stigian ferry; and I suspect you for a share with the olde Sculler there, if the truth were knowne; but let that scape: one other peculiar vertue you possesse, in lifting or Lieger-du-maine (which few of the house of Heauen have else besides) I must confesse; But (me thinks) that should not make you set such an extream distance twixt yourself and others, that we should be said to ouer-dare in speaking to your nimble Deity: So Hercules might challenge a priority of us both, because he can throw the Barre farther, or lift more Ioyndstooles at the armes end then we. If this might carry it; then we (who have made the whole body of Diuinity tremble at the twange of our Bowe, and inforste Saturnius himself to lay by his curld front, Thunder, and three forkd-fiers, and put on a Masking sute, too light for a reueller of eighteene to be seene in —
B How now my dancing Braggart in 7Decimo 7sexto? charme your skipping toung, or I will —
K What? vse the vertue of your Snakie Tipstaffe there upon us?
B No Boy, but the stretch vigor of mine arme about your eares; you have forgot since I tooke your heeles up into ayre, (on the very hower I was borne) in sight of all the benche of Deities, when the siluer roofe of the Olympian Pallace rung againe with the applause of the fact.
K O no, I remember it freshly, and by a particular instance; for my mother Venus (at the same time) but stoupt to imbrace you, and (to speake by Metaphore) you borrowed a Girdle of hers, as you did Ioues Scepter (while he was laughing) and would have done his thunder too, but that, it was too hote for your itching fingers. Faith (to recouer thy good thoughts) I will discouer my whole proiect. The Huntresse and queene of these groues, Diana (in regarde of some black and enuious slaunders howerly breathd against her for her deuine iustice on Acteon as she pretends) hath here in the vale of Gargaphy proclaimd a solemne reuels, which she will grace with the full and royall expence of one of her cleerest moones: In which time it shall be lawfull for all sorts of ingenuous persons, to visite her pallace, to court her Nimphes, to exercise all varietie of generous and noble pastimes, as well to intimate how farre she treads such malitious imputations beneath her, as also to shew how cleere her beauties are from the least wrinckle of Austerity, they may be chardgd with.
B But what is all this to Cupid?
K Here do I meane to put off the title of a God, and take the habite of a Page, in which disguise (during the Interim of these reuels) I will get to follow some one of Dianas maides, where (if my bowe holde, and my shafts flye but with halfe the willingnesse and ayme they are directed) I doubt not but I shall really redeeme the minutes I have lost by their so long and ouer-nice proscription of my Deity, from their court.
B Pursue it (diuine Cupid) it will be rare.
K But will Hermes second me.
B I am now to put in act an especiall designement from my father Ioue, but that performd, I am for any fresh action that offers itself.
K Well then we part.
Exit.
B
Farewell good wag,
Now to my charge, Eccho, faire Eccho speake,
It is Mercurie that calles thee; sorrowfull Nimphe:
Salute me with thy repercussiue voyce,
That I may know what cauerne of the earth,
Containes thy ayery spirit: how, or where,
I may direct my speech, that thou maist heare.

2.2. S1.2

L Here.
B So nigh.
L Aye.
B
Know (gentle soule) then, I am sent from Ioue,
Who (pittying the sad burthen of thy woes,
Still growing on thee, in thy want of wordes,
To vent thy passion for Narcissus death)
Commaunds that now (after three thousand yeares,
Which have been excercisde in Iunoes spight,)
Thou take a corporall figure and ascend,
Enricht with vocall, and articulate power,
Make haste sad Nymph: thrise doth my winged rod,
Strike the obsequious earth to give thee way,
Arise, and speake thy sorrowes, Eccho rise,
Ascendit
B
Here, by this Fountaine where thy loue did pine,
Whose memory liues fresh to vulgar fame,
Shrin'd in this yellow flower, that beares his name
L
His name reuiues and lifts me up from earth,
O which way shall I first conuert myself?
Or in what moode shall I assay to speake,
That (in a moment) I may be deliuered,
Of the prodigious griefe I go with all?
See, see, the morning fount whose spring weepes yet,
The vntimely fate of that too-beauteous boy,
That Trophæe of self loue, and spoile of nature,
Who (now transformd into this drooping flower)
Hangs the repentant head, back, from the streame;
As if it wish'd: Would I had neuer lookt,
In such a flattering mirror. O Narcissus,
Thou that wast once (and yet art) my Narcissus,
Had Eccho but been priuate with thy thoughtes,
She would have dropt away herself in teares,
Till she had all turn'd water; that in her,
(As in a truer glasse) thou mightst have gaz'd,
And seene thy beauties by more kinde reflection:
But Self loue neuer yet could looke on trueth,
but with blear'd beames; Slieke flatterie and she:
Are twin-borne sisters, and so mixe their eyes,
As if you seuer one, the other dies.
Why did the Gods give thee a heauenly forme,
And earthy thoughtes to make thee proude of it?
Why do I aske? It is now the knowne disease
That beautie hath, to beare too deepe a sence,
Of her owne selfe-conceiued excellence.
O hadst thou knowne the worth of heauens rich guift,
Thou wouldst have turn'd it to a truer vse,
And not (with leane and couetous ignorance)
Pin'd in continuall eying that bright Gem,
The glance whereof to others had been more,
Then to thy famisht minde the wide worldes store;
So wretched is it to be meerely ritch:
Witnes thy youths deare sweetes, here spent vntasted;
Like a faire Taper, with his owne flame wasted.
B
Eccho be briefe, Saturnia is abroad;
And if she heare, she will storme at Ioues high will:
L
I will (kinde Mercury) be briefe as time,
Vouchsafe me I may do him these last Rites,
But kisse his flower, and sing some mourning straine:
Over his watry hearse.
B
Thou dost obtaine,
I were no sonne to Ioue shoulde I denie thee;
Beginne, and (more to grace thy cunning voyce)
The humourous ayre shall mixe her solemne tunes,
With thy sad wordes: strike Musique from the spheares,
And with your golden raptures swell our eares.
U
Slow, Slow Fresh fount, keepe time with my salt teares;
yet flower, yet, o faintly gentle springs;
Lift to the heauy part the Musique beares,
Woe weepes out her diuision when she sings;
Droope hearbes, and flowers,
fall griefe in showers;
Our beauties are not ours:
O I could still
(Like melting snow upon some craggy hill,)
drop, drop, drop, drop,
Since Natures pride, is now a wither'd Daffadill.
B Now have you done?
L
Done presently (good Hermes) bide a little;
Suffer my thirsty eye to gaze a while,
But even to tast the place, and I am vanisht:
B
Forgo thy vse and libertie of tongue,
And thou maist dwell on earth, and sport thee there;
L
Here young Action fell, pursu'd, and torne
By Cynthias wrath (more egar then his houndes;)
And here, (ay me the place is fatall) see,
The weeping Niobe, translated hither
From Phrygian mountaines: and by Pho ebe rear'd
As the proude Trophæe of her sharpe reuenge.
B Nay but here.
L
But here, o here, the Fountaine of self loue:
In which Latona, and her carelesse Nimphes,
(Regardles of my sorrowes) bath themselves,
In hourely pleasures.
B
Stint thy babling tongue;
Fond Echo, thou prophanst the grace is done thee:
So idle worldlings (meerely made of voyce:)
Censure the powers above them. Come away,
Ioue calls thee hence, and his will brookes no stay.
L
O stay: I have but one poore thought to clothe,
In ayery garments and then (faith) I go:
Henceforth, thou treacherous, and murthering spring,
Be euer cald the Fountaine of self loue:
And with thy water let this curse remaine,
(As an inseperate plague) that who but tastes,
A droppe thereof, may (with the instant touch)
Grow dotingly enamour'd on themselves.
Now Hermes I have finish'd.
B
Then thy speach,
Must here forsake thee Echo, and thy voyce:
(As it was, wount) rebound but the last wordes, Fare well.
L Well,
Exit.
B
Now Cupid I am for you, and your mirth,
To make me light before I leaue the earth.

2.3. S1.3

E
Deare sparke of beauty make not so fast away:
L Away.
B Stay let me obserue this portent yet.
E I am neither your Minotaure, nor your Centaure, nor your Satyre, nor your Hyæna, nor your Babion, but your meere traueler, beleeue me:
L Leaue me.
B I gest it should be some trauelling Motion pursu'de Eccho so.
E Know you from whom you flye? or whence
L Hence.
Exit.
E This is somewhat above strange: a Nimphe of her feature and lineament to be so preposterously rude; well; I will but coole myself at yon' Spring and follow her.
B Nay then I am familiar with the issue; I will leaue you too.
Exit.
E I am a Rhinoceros, if I had thought a creature of her Symmetry would have dard so improportionable and abrupte a digression. Liberall and deuine Founte, suffer my prophane hand to take of thy bounties. By the puritie of my taste, here is most Ambrosiack water; I will sup of it againe. By thy fauor swete Founte. See, the water (a more running, subtile, and humorous Nimphe then she) permits me to touche, and handle her: what should I inferre? If my behauiours had been of a cheape, or customary garbe; my Accent, or phrase, vulgar; my Garments trite; my Countenance illiterate; or vnpractizd in the encounter of a beautifull and braue-attirde Peice, then I might (with some change of coullor) have suspected my faculties: but (knowing myself an Essence so sublimated, and refin'de by Trauaile; of so studied, and well exercisde a gesture; so alone in fashion, able to make the face of any States-man liuing, and to speake the meere extraction of language; One that hath now made the sixth returne upon venter; and was your first that euer enricht his countrey with the true laws of the Duello; whose Optiques have drunke the spirit of beauty, in some eight score and eighteene Princes Courts, where I have resided, and been there fortunate in the Amours of three hundred, fortie, and fiue Ladies (all nobly discended) whose names I have in Catalogue: to conclude; in all so happy, as even Admiration herself doth seeme to fasten her kisses upon me: Certes I do neither see, nor feele, nor taste, nor sauor, the least steame, or fume of a reason, that should inuite this foolish fastidious Nymph so peeuishly to abandon me: well let the memory of her fleete into Ayre; my thoughts and I am for this other Element, water.

2.4. S1.4

D What? the well-dieted Amorphus become a Water-drinker? I see he meanes not to write verses then.
F No Criticus? why?
D
Quia nulla placere diu; nec viuere carmina possunt, aqua scribuntur
aqua potoribus.
E What say you to your Helicon?
D O, the Muses, well! that is euer excepted.
E Sir, your Muses have no such water I assure you; your Nectar, or the Iuice of your Nepenthe is nothing to it; it is above your Metheglin, beleeue it.
F Metheglin! what is that Sir? may I be so Audacious to demaund?
E A kinde of Greeke Wine I have met with Sir in my Trauailes: it is the same that Demosthenes vsually drunke, in the composure of all his exquisite and Mellifluous Orations.
D That is to be argued, (Amorphus) if we may credit Lucian, who in his (Encomium Demosthenis) affirmes, he neuer drunke but water in any of his Compositions.
E Lucian is absurde, he knew nothing: I will beleeue my owne Trauels, before all the Lucians of Europe; he doth feed you with fictions, and leasings.
D Indeed (I think) next a Traueller he does prettily well.
E I assure you it was Wine, I have tasted it, and from the hand of an Italian Antiquary, who deriues it authentically from the Duke of Ferrara's Bottles. How name you the Gentleman you are in ranke with there, Sir?
D It is Asotus, sonne of the late deceased Philargyrus the Citizen.
E Was his Father of any eminent place, or meanes?
D He was to have been Prætor next yeare.
E Ha! A pretty formall young Gallant (in good soothe) pitty, he is not more gentilely propagated. Hearke you Criticus: you may say to him what I am, if you please; though I affect not popularity, yet I would be lothe to stand out to any, whom you shall voutchsafe to call friend.
D Sir, I feare I may do wrong to your sufficiencies in the reporting them, by forgetting or misplacing some one; yourself can best enforme him of yourself Sir, except you had some Catalogue or Inuentory of your faculties readye drawne, which you would request me to shew him for you, and him to take notice of.
E This Criticus is sower: I will think Sir.
D Do so Sir. O heauen, that anything (in the likenesse of man) should suffer these rackt extremities, for the vttring of his Sophisticate good parts.
F Criticus, I have a sute to you; but you must not denie me: pray you make this Gentleman and I friends.
D Friends! Why? is there any difference betweene you?
F No: I meane acquaintance, to knowe one another.
D O now I apprehend you; your phrase was without me before.
F In good faith he is a most excellent rare man I warrant him.
D Slight, they are mutually enamor'd by this time.
F Will you sweete Criticus?
D Yes, yes.
F Nay, but when? you will deferre it now, and forget it?
D Why, is it a thing of such present necessity, that it requires so violent a dispatch?
F No, but (would I might neuer stir) he is a most rauishing man; good Criticus you shall endeare me to you, in good faithlaw.
D Well your longing shall be satisfied Sir.
F And withall, you may tell him what my father was, and how well he left me, and that I am his heire.
D Leaue it to me, I will forget none of your deare graces I warrant you.
F Nay I know you can better marshall these affaires then I can. — O Gods I will give all the world (if I had it) for aboundance of such acquaintance.
D What ridiculous circumstance might I deuise now, to bestow this reciprocall brace of Cockscombes, one upon another?
E Since I troad on this side of the Alpes, I was not so frozen in my inuention; let me see; to accost him with some choise remnant of Spanish, or Italian? that would indifferently expresse my languages now, mary then, if he should fall out to be Ignorant, it were both hard, and harshe. How else? step into some discourse of State, and so make my induction? that were above him too; and out of his element I feare Faine to have seen him in Venice? or Padua? or some face neare his in simillitude? it is too pointed, and open. No: it must be a more queint, and collaterall deuise: As — stay; to frame some encomiastique speach upon this our Metropolis, or the wise Magistrates thereof, in which pollitique number, it is ods but his father fild up a rome? descend into a perticuler admiration of their Iustice; for the due measuring of Coales, burning of Cans, and such like? As also their religion, in pulling downe a superstitious Crosse, and aduancing a Venus; or Priapus, in place of it? ha? it will do well. Or to talke of some Hospitall, whose walls record his father a BENEFACTOR? or of so many Buckets bestowd on his parish church in his life time, with his name at length (for want of armes) trickt upon them; Any of these? or to praise the cleanesse of the streete wherein he dwelt, or the prouident painting of his posts against he should have been Pretor, or (leauing his parent) come to some speciall ornament about himself, as his Rapier, or some other of his accountrements? I have it: Thankes gracious Minerua.
F Would I had but once spoke to him, and then —
E It is a most curious and neatly-wrought band this same, as I have seene Sir.
F O God Sir.
E You forgive the humor of mine eye in obseruing it?
F O Lord Sir, there needs no such Apology I assure you.
D I am anticipated: they will make a solemne deede of guift of themselves you shall see.
E Your Rose too does most grace-fully in troath.
F It is the most gentile and receiu'd Weare now Sir.
E Beleeue me Sir (I speake it not to humour you) I have not seene a young gentleman (generally) put on his cloathes with more iudgement.
F O, it is your pleasure to say so, Sir.
E No, as I am vertuous (being altogether vntrauel'd) it strikes me into wonder.
F I do purpose to trauell (Sir) at Spring.
E I think I shall affect you sir, this last speach of yours hath begun to make you deare to me.
F O God Sir, I would there were any thing in me Sir, that might appeare worthy the least worthines of your woorth Sir, I protest Sir, I should endeuour to shew it Sir, with more then common regarde Sir.
D O here is rare Motley, Sir.
E Both your desert, and your endeuors are plentifull, suspect them not: but your sweete disposition to trauaile (I assure you) hath made you another My-self in mine eye, and strooke me enamour'd on your beauties.
F I would I were the fairest Lady of Fraunce for your sake Sir, and yet I would trauaile too.
E O you should digresse from yourself els: for (beleeue it) your Trauaile is your only thing that rectifies, or (as the Italian says) 8vi 8rendi 8pronto 8all' 8Attioni, makes you fit for Action.
F I think it be great charge though Sir.
E Charge? why it is nothing for a gentleman that goes priuate, as yourself, or so; my Intelligence shall quitt my charge at all times: Good faith, this Hat hath possest mine eye exceedingly; it is so prettie, and fantastique; what? is it a Beauer.
F Aye Sir. I will assure you it is a Beauer, it cost me six crownes but this morning.
E A very prettie fashion (beleeue me) and a most nouel kinde of trimme: your Button is conceipted too.
F Sir, it is all at your seruice.
E O pardon me.
F I beseech you Sir, if you please to weare it you shall do me a most infinite grace.
D Slight, will he be praisde out of his cloathes?
F By heauen Sir, I do not offer it you after the Italian manner; I would you should conceiue so of me.
E Sir, I shall feare to appeare rude in denying your curtesies, especially being inuited by so proper a distinction; may I pray your name Sir.
F My name is Asotus Sir.
E I take your loue (gentle Asotus) but let me winne you to receiue this in exchange. —
D 'Hart, they will change dublets anone.
E And (from this time) esteeme yourself in the first ranke of those few whom I professe to loue; what make you in company of this scholler here? I will bring you knowne to gallants as Anaides, Hedon the courtier, and others, whose societie shall render you grac'de, and respected; this is a triuiall fellow, too meane, too course for you to conuerse with.
F Slid, this is not worth a crowne, and mine cost me six but this morning.
D I lookt when he would repent him, he has begunne to be sad a good while.
E Sir, shall I say to you for that Hat? be not so sad, be not so sad; it is a Relique I could not so easily have departed with, but as the Hierogliphick of my affection; you shall alter it to what forme you please, it will take any block; I have varied it myself to the three thousandth time, and not so few: It hath these vertues beside; your head shall not ake under it; nor your braine leaue you, without licence; It will preserue your complexion to eternitie; for no beame of the Sunne (should you weare it der Zona Torrida) hath force to approch it by two ells. It is proofe against thunder, and enchantment: and was given me by a great man (in Russia) as an especially-priz'd present; and constantly affirm'd to be the hat that accompanied the politique Vlisses, in his tedious, and ten yeares Trauailes.
F By Ioue I will not depart withall, whosoeuer woulde

2.5. S1.5

D
He will ranke even with you (ere it be long)
If you hold on your course: O vanity,
How are thy painted beauties doated on,
By light, and empty Ideots? how pursu'de
With open, and extended appetite?
How they do sweate, and run themselves from breath,
Raisd on their toes, to catch thy ayery formes,
Still turning giddy, till they reele like drunkards,
That buy the merry madnesse of one hower,
With the long irksomnesse of following time?
O how dispisde, and base a thing is Man,
If he not striue to erect his groueling thoughts
Above the straine of flesh? But how more cheape
When, even his best and vnderstanding part,
(The crowne, and strength of all his faculties)
Floates like a dead drown'd body, on the streame
Of vulgar humor, mixt with commonst dregs?
I suffer for their guilt now, and my Soule
(Like one that lookes on ill affected eyes)
Is hurt with meere Intention on their follies:
Why will I view them then? my Sence might aske me:
Or is it a Rarity, or some new Obiect,
That straines my strict obseruance to this point?
O would it were, therein I could afforde
My Spirit should draw a little neer to theirs,
To gaze on nouelties: so Vice were one.
Tut, she is stale, ranke, foule, and were it not
That those (that wooe her) greete her with lockt eyes
(In spight of all the Impostures, paintings, drugs,
Which her bawde Custome daubes her cheekes withall)
She would betray her loath'd and leprous face,
And fright the enamor'd dotards from themselves:
But such is the peruersnesse of our nature,
That if we once but fancy leuity,
(How antique and ridiculous so ere
It sute with us) yet will our muffled thought
Choose rather not to see it, then auoyde it:
And if we can but banish our owne sence,
We acte our Mimick tricks with that free licence,
That lust, that pleasure, that security;
As if we practiz'd in a Past-boord case,
And no one saw the Motion, but the Motion.
Well, check thy passion, least it grow too lowde:
While fooles are pittied, they wax fat, and prowde.
Exit.

3. A2

3.1. S2.1

K Why this was most vnexpectedly followed (my deuine delicate Mercury) by the Beard of Ioue, thou art a pretious Deity.
B Nay Cupid leaue to speake improperly; since we are turn'd cracks, let us study to be like cracks: practise their language, and behauiours, and not with a dead Imitation. Acte freely, carelesly, and capricciously, as if our veines ranne with Quick-siluer, and not vtter a phrase, but what shall come foorth steept in the very brine of conceipt, and sparkle like salt in fire.
K That is not euery ones happinesse (Hermes) though you can presume upon the easinesse and dexterity of your wit, you shall give me leaue to be a little Iealous of mine; and not desperately to hazard it after your capring humor.
B Nay then Cupid, I think we must have you hoodwinckt againe, for you are growne too prouident, since your eyes were at liberty.
K Not so (Mercury) I am still blinde Cupid to thee:
B And what to the Lady Nimph you serue?
K Troath Page, Boy, and Sirha: these are all my titles.
B Then thou hast not altered thy name with thy disguise.
K O No, that had been Supererogation, you shall neuer heare your Courtier call but by one of these three.
B Faith then both our Fortunes are the same.
K Why? what parcell of man hast thou lighted on for a Maister?
B Such a one (as before I begin to decipher him) I dare not affirme him to be any thing else then a Courtier. So much he is, during this open time of Reuels, and would be longer, but that his meanes are to leaue him shortly after: his name is Hedon, a gallant wholy consecrated to his pleasures. —
K Hedon? he vses much to my Ladies chamber, I think.
B How is she cal'd, and then I can shew thee?
K Madame Philautia.
B O Aye, he affects her very particulerly indeed. These are his graces: he doth (besides me) keepe a Barbar, and a Monkey: He has a ritch wrought Waste-coate to intertaine his visitants in, with a Cap almost sutable: His Curtaines and Bedding are thought to be his owne; his bathing Tub is not suspected. He loues to have a Fencer, a Pedant, and a Musitian seene in his lodging a mornings.
K And not a Poet?
B Fye no: himself is a Rimer, and that is a thought better then a Poet: he is not lightly within to his Mercer, no, though he come when he takes Phisique, which is commonly after his play. He beates a Tayler very well, but a Stocking-seller admirably; and so consequently any one he owes money to, that dares not resist him. He neuer makes generall inuitement, but against the publishing of a new Sute, mary then, you shall have more drawne to his lodging, then come to the launching of some three ships; especially if he be furnishd with supplies for the retiring of his olde Ward-robe from pawne; if not, he does hire a stock of Apparell, and some forty or fiftie pound in Gould for that forenoone to shew: He is thought a very necessary Perfume for the Presence, and for that only cause welcome thither: six Millaners shops affoorde you not the like sent. He courts Ladies with how many great Horse he hath rid that morning, or how oft he has done the whole, or the halfe Pommado in a seuen-night before; and sometime venters so far upon the vertue of his Pomander, that he dares tell them, how many shirts he has sweat at Tennis that weeke, but wiselye conceales so many dozen of Balls he is on the score. Here he comes that is all this.

3.2. S2.2

G Boy.
B Sir.
G Are any of the Ladies in the Presence?
B None yet Sir.
G Give me some Gold, More.
H Is that thy Boy Hedon?
G Aye, what thinkst thou of him?
H Shart, I would gelde him; I warrant he has the Philosophers stone.
G Well said my good Melancholy diuell: Sirah, I have deuisde one or two of the pretiest Oathes (this morning in my bed) as euer thou heardst, to protest withall in the Presence.
H Pray thee let us hear them.
G Soft thou wilt vse them afore me.
H No (damne me then) I have more oathes then I know how to vtter, by this ayre.
G Faith one is; By the tip of your eare, Sweete Lady, Is it not pretty, and Gentile?
H Yes for the person it is applyed to, a Lady. It should be light, and —
G Nay the other is better, exceeds it much: The Inuention is farder set too; By the white valley that lyes betweene the Alpine hills of your bosome, I protest — &c
H Well, you traueld for that Hedon.
B Aye, in a Map, where his eyes were but blind guides to his vnderstanding it seemes.
G And then I have a Salutation will nick all; by this Caper: ho!
H How is that?
G You know I cal Madam Philautia, my Honor, and she cals me her Ambition. Now (when I meet her in the Presence anon) I will come to her, and say, Sweete Honor, I have hitherto contented my Sence with the Lillies of your hand; but now I will taste the Roses of your lip; and (withall) kisse her: to which she cannot but blushingly answeare: Nay now you are too Ambitious. And then do I reply; I cannot be too Ambitious of Honour, Sweete Lady. Will it not be good? ha? ha?
H O Assure your soule.
G By heauen I think it will be excellent, and a very politique atchiuement of a kisse.
H I have thought upon one for Moria of a suddaine too if it take.
G What is it, my deare mischiefe?
H Mary, I will come to her, (and she alwayes weares a Muffe if you be remembred) and I will tell her: Madame your whole self cannot but be pefectly wise: for your hands have witte enough to keepe themselves warme.
G Now (before Ioue) admirable: looke, thy Page takes it too, by Pho ebus, my sweete facetious Rascall, I could eate Water-gruell with thee a month, for this Iest, O my deare Rogue.
H O (by Hercules) it is your only dish, above all your Potatos, or Oyster-pyes in the world.
G I have ruminated upon a most rare Wish too, and the Prophecy to it, but I will have some friend to be the Prophet; As thus: I do wish myself one of my Mistris Ciopino's. Another demaunds: Why would he be one of his Mistris Ciopinos? A third answeres, Because he would make her higher. A fourth shall say, That will make her proud. And a fifth shall conclude: Then do I prophesie, Pride will have a fall: and he shall give it her.
H I will be your Prophet. By gods son, it will be most exquisite, thou art a fine Inuentious Rogue, Sirah.
G Nay and I have Posies for Rings too, and Riddles, that they dreame not of.
H Tut they will do that, when they come to sleep on them time enough; but were thy deuises neuer in the Presence yet Hedon?
G O no, I disdaine that.
H It were good we went afore then, and, brought them acquainted with the roome where they shall act, least the strangenes of it put them out of countenance, when they should come forth.
Exeunt.
K Is that a Courtier too.
B Troth no; he has two essentiall parts of the Courtier, Pride and Ignorance (I meane of such a Courtier, who is (indeed) but the Zani to an exact Courtier) mary, the rest come somwhat after the Ordinary Gallant. It is Impudence itself Anaides; one, that speakes all that comes in his cheekes, and will blush no more then a Sackbut. He lightly occupies the Iesters roome at the table, and keeps laughter, Gelaia (a wench in pages atire) following him in place of a Squire, whom he (now and then) tickles with some strange ridiculous stuffe, vttered (as his land came to him) by chance: He will censure or discourse of any thing, but as absurdly as you would wishe: His fashion is not to take knowledge of him that is beneath him in cloathes; He neuer drinkes below the Salt: He does naturally admire his wit, that weares Gold-lace, or Tissue; Stabs any man that speakes more contemptibly of the Scholler then he. He is a great proficient in all the illiberall Sciences, as Cheating, Drinking, Swaggering, Whoring, and such like; neuer kneeles, but to pledge Health's; nor praies, but for a Pipe of pudding Tabaco. He will blaspheame in his shirt; The oaths which he vomits at one supper, would maintain a Towne of garrison in good swearing a twelue-moneth: One other geniune quality he has, which crownes all these; and that is this; to a Friend in want, he will not depart with the weight of a soldard Groat, least the world might censure him prodigall, or report him a Gull: Mary, to his Cocatrice or Punquetto; halfe a dozen Taffata gownes or Sattin Kirtles, in a paire or two of moneth's, why they are nothing.
K I commend him he is one of my clients.

3.3. S2.3

E Come Sir. You are now within reguarde of the Presence; And see, the priuacie of this roome, how sweetly it offers itself to our retir'd intendments, Page, cast a vigilant, and enquiring eye about, that we be not rudely surpris'd, by the aproch of some ruder-stranger.
R I warrant you Sir. I will tell you when the Woolfe enters feare nothing.
B O what a masse of benefit shall we possesse, in being the inuisible Spectators of this strange shew now to be acted?
E Plant yourself there Sir: And obserue me. You shall now, as well be the Ocular as the Eare-witnesse, how clearely I can resell that Paradox, or rather Pseudodoxe of those, which holde the face to be the Index of the minde, which (I assure you) is not so, in any Politique creature; for instance, I will now give you the particuler, and distinct face of euery your most noted Species of persons; As your Marchant, your Scholler, your Soldier, your Lawyer, Courtier, &c. And each of these so truly, as you would sweare (but that your eye sees the variation of the lineament) it were my most proper, and Genuine aspect: First, for your Marchants, or Citty face; It is thus: a dull plodding face; still looking in a direct line, forward: There is no great matter in this face. Then have you your Students, or Academique face, which is here, an honest, simple, and Methodicall face; But somewhat more spread then the former. The third is your Soldiers face: A menacing, and astounding face, that lookes broade, and bigge: the grace of this face consists much in a Beard. The Anti face to this, is your Lawyers face; a contracted, subtile, and Intricate face: full of quirkes, and turnings; A Labyrinthæan face, now angularly, now circularly, euery way aspected. Next is your Statists face, a serious, solempne, and supercilious face, ful of formall, and square grauity, the eye (for the most part) arteficially and deeply shadow'd, there is great iudgment requir'd in the making of this face. But now to come to your face of faces; or Courtiers face: it is of three sorts; (according to our subdiuision of a Courtier; Elementary, Practique, and Theorique: your Courtier Theorique, is he that hath arriu'd to his fardest, and doth now know the Court rather by speculation, then practise; and this is his face: A fastidious, and oblique face; that lookes, as it went with a Vice, and were screw'd thus. Your Courtier Practique is he that is yet in his Path, his Course, his Way, and hath not toucht the Puntillio or point of hopes; this face is here: A most promising, open, smooth, and ouerflowing face, that seemes as it would runne, and powre itself into you; your Courtier Elementary is one but newly entered, or as it were in the Alphabet Vt-re-mi-fa-sol-la, of Courtship: Note well this face, for it is this you must practise.
F I will practise them all, if you please Sir.
E Aye; here after you may: and it will not be altogether an vngratfull study. For let your soule be assur'd of this (in any Ranke or profession whatsoeuer) the most generall, or Maior part of Opinion, goes with the face, and (simply) respects nothing else. Therefore: if that can be made, exactly, curiously, exquisitely, thoroughly, It is enough: But (for the present) you shall only apply yourself to this face of the Elementary Courtier, A light, reuelling, and protesting face, now blushing, now smiling which you may helpe much with a wanton wagging of your head, thus; (a feather will teach you) or with kissing your finger that hath the Ruby, or playing with some string of your band, which is a most quaint kinde of Melancholy besides. Where is your Page? call for your Casting Bottle, and place your Mirror in your Hat, as I tolde you; so. Come, looke not pale, obserue me: set your face, and enter. O for some excellent Painter, to have ta'ne the copye of all these faces.
F Prosaites.
E Fie, I premonisht you of that; In the Court, Boy or Sirha.
R Maister Lupus in — O it is Prosaites.
F Sirha, prepare me my Casting-bottle, I think I must be enforst to purchase me another Page, you see how at hand Cos waites here.
Exeunt.
B So will he too in time.
K What is he Mercury?
B A notable Finch. One that hath newly entertain'd the Beggar to follow him, but cannot get him to wait neer inough. It is Asotus the heire of Philargirus: but first I will give you the others Caracter, which may make his the clearer? He that is with him is Amorphus, A Traueller, One so made out of the mixture and shreds of formes, that himself is truely deformed: He walkes most commonlye with a Cloue or Pick-toothe in his mouth, He is the very Minte of Complement; All his behauiours are printed, his face is another volume of Essayes; and his beard an Aristarchus. He speakes all creame, skimd, and more affected then a dozen of waiting women; He is his owne promooter in euery place: The wife of the Ordinary gives him his diet to maintaine her table in discourse, which (indeed) is a meere Tiranny over her other guests: for he will vsurp all the talke: Ten Cunstables are not so tedious. He is no great shifter; once a yeare his Apparell is ready to reuolt; He doth vse much to arbitrate quarrells, and fights himself exceeding well (out at a window.) He will lie cheaper then any Begger, and lowder then most Clockes; for which he is right properly accommodated to the Whetstone his page. The other gallant is his Zani, and doth most of these tricks after him; sweats to imitate him in euery thing (to a haire) except a Beard, which is not yet extant: he doth learne to eat Anchoues, and Caueare because he loues them, speakes as he speakes; lookes, walkes, goes so in Cloathes and fashion, is in all, as he were moulded of him. Marry (before they met) he had other very pretty sufficiencies, which yet he retaines some light Impression of: As frequenting a dauncing schoole, and grieuously torturing strangers, with inquisition after his grace in his Galliard; He buyes a fresh acquaintance at any rate; his Eye, and his Raiment confer much together as he goes in the street; He treads nicely, like a fellow that walkes upon ropes, especially the first Sunday of his Silk-stockings, and when he is most neate and new, you shall stripp him with commendations.
K Here comes another.
B Aye, but one of another straine Cupid: This fellow weighs somewhat.
Criticus passeth by.
K His name Hermes?
B Criticus. A creature of a most perfect and diuine temper; One, in whom the Humors and Elements are peaceably met, without æmulation of Precedencie: he is neither too fantastickly Melancholy; too slowly Plegmatick, too lightly Sanguine, or too rashly Cholerick, but in all, so composd and order'd; as it is cleare, Nature was about some full worke, she did more then make a man when she made him; His discourse is like his behauiour, vncommon, but not vnpleasing; he is prodigall of neither: He striues rather to be (that which men call) Iudicious, then to be thought so; and is so truely learned that he affects not to shew it: He will think, and speak his thought, both freely; but as distant from deprauing any other mans Merrit, as proclaiming his owne: For his valor, it is such, that he dares as little to offer an Iniury, as receiue one. In sum, he hath a most Ingenious and sweet spirit, a sharp and season'd wit, a streight iudgement, and a stronge minde; constant and vnshaken: Fortune could neuer breake him, or make him lesse, he counts it his pleasure to despise pleasures, and is more delighted with good deedes then Goods, It is a competencie to him that he can be vertuous. He doth neither couet, nor feare; he hath too much reason to do either: and that commends all things to him.
K Not better then Mercury commends him.
B O Cupid, it is beyond my deity to give him his due praises; I could leaue my Place in heauen, to liue among Mortals, so I were sure to be no other then he.
K Slight, I beleeue he is your Minion; you seeme to be so rauisht with him.
B He is one, I would not have awry thought darted against willingly.
K No, but a straight shaft in his bosome, I will promise him, if I am Cithereas sonne.
B Shall we go Cupid?
K Stay and see the Ladies now; they will come presently. I will helpe to paint them.
B What lay Couller upon Couler? that affoordes but an ill blazon.
Argurion passeth by.
K Here come Mettall to helpe it, the Lady Argurion.
B Money, money.
K The fame: A Nimph of a most wandering and giddy disposition, humourous as the Ayre, she will run from Gallant to Gallant (as they sit at Primero in the Presence) most strangely, and seldome stayes with any; She spreades as she goes: To day you shall have her looke as cleare and fresh as the morning and to morrow as Melancholy as midnight. She takes speciall pleasure in a close, obscure lodging, and for that cause visits the Cittie so often, where she has many secret and true concealing fauorites. When she comes abroad she is more loose and scattering then dust, and will fly from place to place, as she were rapt with a whirle-winde. Your young Student (for the most part) she affects not, onley salutes him, and away: A Poet or a Philosopher she is hardly brought to take any notice of, no, though he be some part of an Alchimist. She loues a Player, well; and a Lawyer infinitly: but your Foole above all. She can do much in the Court for the obtaining of any sute whatsoeuer, no doore but flies open to her; her presence is above a Charme: The woorst in her is want of keeping state, and too much descending into inferior and base offices, She is for any course Imployment you will put upon her, as to be your Procurer or Pandar.
B Peace Cupid; here comes more worke for you, another Caracter or two.

3.4. S2.4

N Stay sweete Philautia; I will but change my fann, and go presently.
Q Now (in very good serious) Ladies, I will have this order
K been a Dogge to have given entertainement to any Gallant in this kingdome.
B O I pray thee no more, I am full of her.
K Yes (I must needes tell you) She composes a Sack-posset well; and would court a young Page sweetly, but that her breath is against it.
B Now her breath (or some thing more strong) protect me from her; the other, the other, Cupid.
K O, that is my Lady and Mistris Madam Philautia: She admires not herself for any one particularity, but for all; She is faire, and she knowes it; She has a pretty light wit too, and she knowes it; She can daunce, and she knowes that too; play at Shittle-cock, and that too: No quality she has, but she shall take a very particuler knowledge of, and most Lady-like commend it to you; you shall have her at any time read you the History of herself, and very subtilly runne over another Ladies sufficiences to come to her owne. She has a good superficiall iudgement in Painting; and would seeme to have so in Poetry. A most compleate Lady in the opinion of some three beside herself.
P Faith, how lik'd you my quipp to Hedon, about the garter? was it not wittie?
Q Exceeding witty and Integrate: you did so Aggrauate the Iest withall.
P
And did I not daunce moouingly last night?
Q
Moouingly; out of measure (in troth) Sweete Lady.
B
A happy commendation, to daunce, out of measure.
Q Saue only you wanted the swim in the turne; O! when I was at fourteene —
P Nay that is mine owne from any Nimph in the Court) I am sure of it) therefore you mistake me in that Guardian; both the swimme, and the trip, are properly mine; euery body will affirme it, that has any iudgement in dauncing: I assure you.
N Come now Philautia I am for you, shall we go?
P Aye good Phantaste; What? have you chang'd your headtire?
N Yes faith; the other was so neare the common, it had no extraordinary grace; besides, I had worne it almost a day in good troath.
P I will be sworne, this is most excellent for the deuise, and rare. It is after the Italian print we look'd on the other night.
N It is so: by this fanne, I cannot abide any thing that fauors the poore ouer-worne cut, that has any kindred with it; I must have variety, I: This mixing in fashion I hate it woorse, then to burne Iuniper in my Chamber I protest.
P And yet we cannot have a new peculiar Court-tyre, but these Retainers will have it; these Suburbe sunday-waiters, these Courtiers for High daies, I know not what I should call them. —
N O aye. They do most pitifully Imitate; but I have a tire a comming (I faith) shall —
Q In good certaine, Madame, it makes you looke most heauenly; but (lay your hand on your hart) you neuer skind a new beauty more prosperously in your life, nor more supernaturally; looke good Lady, sweet Lady looke.
P It is very cleere, and well beleeue me. But if you had seene mine yeasterday when it was young, you would have — who is your Doctor Phantaste?
N Nay that is counsell Philautia, you shall pardon me: yet (I will assure you) he is the most dainty, sweet, absolute rare man, of the whole Colledge. O! his very lookes, his discourse, his behauiour, all he does is Phisick I protest.
P For heauens sake his name; good, deare, Phantaste —
N No, no, no, no, no, no, (beleeue me) not for a Million of heauens: I will not make him cheape. Fie —
Exeunt.
P There is a Nymph too of a most curious and elaborate straine, light, all motion, an Vbiquitary, she is euery where, Phantaste —
B Her very name speakes her; let her passe. But are these (Cupid) the starres of Cynthias Court? do these Nymphs attend upon Diana?
K They are in her Court (Mercury) but not as Starres; these neuer come in the presence of Cynthia: the Nimphes that make her traine, are the Diuine Arete, Tima, Phronesis, Thauma, and others of that high sort. These are priuately brought in by Moria in this licencious time, against her knowledge; and (like so many Meteors) will vanish when she appeares.

3.5. S2.5

Cant.
I
Come follow me my Wagges, and say as I say.
There is no ritches but in Ragges; hey day, hey day;
You that professe this art. Come away; come away:
And helpe to beare a part. Hey day; hey day.
Beare-wards, and Blackingmen.
Corne-cutters, and Carmen.
Sellers of mar-king stones.
Gatherer's up of Marow-bones
Pedlers, and Puppit-players.
Sow-gelders, and Sooth-saiers.
Gipsies and taylers,
Rat-catchers, and Raylers,
Beadles, and Ballad-singers.
Fidlers, and Fadingers.
Thomalins, and Tinkers.
Scauengers, and Skinkers.
There goes the Hare away.
Hey day, Hey day.
Bawds and blinde Doctors.
Paritors, and spittle Proctors.
Chymists, and Cuttlebungs.
Hookers, and Horne-thums.
With all cast commaunders.
turnd Post-Knights, or Pandars.
Iuglers, and Iesters.
Beggars rime
I
Borrowers of Testers.
All all the troope of trash
That are allied to the lash,
Come, and Ioyne with your lags
Shake up your muscle-bags.
For Beggary beares the sway,
Then sing: cast care away,
Hey day, hey day.
B What? those that were our fellow Pages but now, so soone prefer'd to be Yeomen of the Bottles? the mistery, the mistery, good wagges?
K Some dyet drinke, they have the guard of.
I No Sir, we are going in quest of a strange Fountaine, lately found out.
K By whom?
R My Maister or the great discouerer, Amorphus.
B Thou hast well intitled him Cos, for he will discouer all he knowes.
S Aye and a little more too, when the spirit is upon him.
I O the good trauelling Gentleman yonder, has causd such a drought in the Presence, with reporting the wonders of this new water; that all the Ladies, and Gallants lie languishing upon the Rushes, like so many pounded Cattle in the midste of Haruest, sighing one to another, and gasping, as if each of them expected a Cock from the Fountaine, to be brought into his mouth; and (without we returne quickly) they are all (as a youth would say) no better then a few Trowts cast a shore, or a dish of Eeles in a Sand-bag.
B Well then, you were best dispatch and have a care of them, Come Cupid, thou and I will go peruse this drye wonder.

4. A3

4.1. S3.1

E Sir, let not this discountenance, or dis-gallant you a whit, you must not sinke under the first disaster; It is with your young Grammattical Courtier, as with your Neophyte-Player, a thing vsuall to be daunted at the first presence, or enter-viewe: you saw, there was Hedon and Anaides, (far more practisd gallants then yourself) who were both out, to comfort you: It is no disgrace, no more, then for your aduenturous Reueller to fall by some in-auspicious chance in his Galliard, or for some subtill Politician to vndertake the Bastinado, that the State might think worthely of him, and respect him as a man well beaten to the world. What? hath your Tayler prouided the property (we spake of) at your Chamber, or no?
F I think he has.
E Nay, (I intreate you) be not so flat, and melancholique, erect your minde: you shall redeeme this with the Courtship I will teach you against afternoone: Where eate you to day?
F Where you please Sir, any where I.
E Come let us go and taste some light dinner, A dish of slic'd Caueare, or so, and after you shall practise an hower at your lodging, some fewe formes that I have remembred; If you had but (so farre) gathered your spirits to you, as to have taken up a Rushe (when you were out) and wagd it, thus; or clensde your teeth with it, or but turn'de aside, and fainde some businesse to whisper with your Page, till you had recouer'd yourself, or but found some slight staine in your stocking, or any other pretty Inuention (so it had been suddaine,) you might have come off with a most cleare and Courtly grace.
F A poyson of all, I think I was forespoake, I.
E No, I do partly ayme at the cause (which was omenous indeed) for as you enter at the doore, there is oppos'de to you the frame of a Wolfe in the Hangings, which (your eye taking sodainely) gaue a false Alarme to the heart; and that was it call'd your blood out of your face, and so disordred the whole ranke of your spirits: I beseech you labour to forget it.
Exeunt.

4.2. S3.2

G Heart, was there euer so prosperous an Inuention thus vnluckely peruerted, and spoyld, by a whoore-sonne Book-worme, a Candle-waster?
H Nay, be not impatient, Hedon.
G Slight, I would faine know his name.
H Hang him poore Grogran Rascall, pr'ythee think not of him: I will send for him to my lodging, and have him blanketted when thou wilt, man.
G By gods son; I would thou couldst. Looke, here he comes. Laugh at him, laugh at him. Ha, ha, ha.
Criticus passeth by.
H Fough, he smels all Lamp-oyle, with studying by Candle-light.
G How confidently he went by us; and carelesly! neuer moou'd! nor stird at any thing! Did you obserue him?
H Aye a poxe on him, let him go, Dormouse: he is in a dreame now; He has no other time, to sleepe but thus when he walkes abroade, to take the ayre.
G Gods pretious, this afflicts me more then all the rest, that we should so particulerly direct our Hate, and Contempt against him; and he to carry it thus without wound or passion! it is insufferable.
H 'Slid, (my deare Enuy) if, thou but saist the word now, I will vndoe him eternally for thee.
G How sweete Anaides?
H Marry halfe a score of us get him in (one night) and make him pawne his wit for a supper.
G Away, thou hast such vnseasonable Iests. By this heauen I wonder at nothing more then our Gentlemen Vshers; that will suffer a piece of Serge, or Perpetuana, to come into the Presence: methinks, they, should (out of their Experience) better distinguish the silken disposition of a Courtier, then to let such terrible course Rags mixe with them, able to fret any smooth or gentile Society to the threds, with their rubbing Deuises.
H Damne me, if I should aduenture on his company once more, without a sute of Buffe, to defend my wit: he does nothing but stabbe the slaue: how mischeiuously he crost thy devuise of the Prophesie there? and Moria she comes without her Muffe too; and there my inuention was lost.
G Well, I am resolu'd, what I will do.
H What, my good spiritous Sparke?
G Marry, speake all the venome I can of him; and poyson his reputation in euery place where I come.
H 'Fore god most Courtly.
G And if I chance to be present where any question is made of his sufficiencies, or of any thing he hath done priuate or publique; I will censure it slightly, and ridiculously —
H At any hand beware of that, so you may draw your owne iudgement, in suspect; No, I will instruct thee what thou shalt do, and by a safer meanes: approue any thing thou hearest of his, to the receiud opinion of it; but if it be extraordinary, give it from him to some other, whom thou more particulerly affectst, that is the waye to plague him, and he shall neuer come to defend himself: Sblood, I will give out all he does is dictated from other men; and sweare it too (if thou wilt have me) and that I know the time, and place, where he stoale it: though my soule be guilty of no such thing; and that I think out of my hart, he hates such barren shifts; yet to do thee a pleasure and him a disgrace, I will damne myself, or do any thing.
G Gramercies my deare Deuill: we will put it seriouslie in practise, I faith.
Exeunt.

4.3. S3.3

D
Do good Detraction, do: and I the while
Shall shake thy spight off with a carelesse smile.
Poore pitteous Gallants, what leane idle sleights
Their thoughts suggest to flatter their steru'd Hopes!
As if I knew not how to entertaine
These Straw-deuises; but of force must yeeld
To the weake stroake of their calumnious tongues.
Why should I care what euery Dor doth buzze
In credulous eares? it is a Crowne to me,
That the best iudgements can report me wrong'd;
Them Liars; and their slanders impudent.
Perhaps (upon the rumor of their speeches)
Some grieued friend will whisper, Criticus,
Men speake ill of thee: So they be ill men,
If they spake worse, it were better: For of such
To be disprais'd, is the most perfect praise.
What can his Censure hurt me, whom the world
Hath censur'd vile before me? If good Chrestus,
Euthus, or Phronimus, had spoake the words,
They would have moou'd me; and I should have cal'd
My thoughts and Actions to a strict accompt
upon the hearing: But when I remember
It is Hedon and Anaides: Alasse, then,
I think but what they are, and am not stir'd:
The one, a light voluptuous Reueller,
The other a strange arrogating Puffe,
Both impudent, and ignorant enough;
That talke (as they are wont) not as I merit;
Traduce by Custome, as most Dogs do barke,
Do nothing out of iudgment, but disease;
Speake ill, because they neuer could speake well:
And who would be angry with this race of Creatures?
What wise Phisitian have we euer seene
Moou'd with a frantique man? the same affects
That he doth beare to his sicke Patient,
Should a right minde carry to such as these:
And I do count it a most rare Reuenge,
That I can thus (with such a sweet neglect)
Pluck from them all the pleasure of their Mallice.
For that is the marke of all their enginous drifts,
To wound my Patience (how soe're they seeme
To ayme at other obiects) which if mist,
Their Enuy's like an Arrow shot vpright,
That in the fall endangers their owne heads.

4.4. S3.4

M
What Criticus? where have you spent the day.
You have not visited your iealous friends?
D
Where I have seene (most honor'd Arete,)
The strangest Pageant, fashion'd like a Court,
(At least I dreamp't I saw it) so diffus'd,
So painted, pyed, and full of Raine-bow straines;
As neuer yet (either by Time, or Place)
Was made the foode to my distasted Sence:
Nor can my weake imperfect Memory
Now render halfe the formes vnto my tongue,
That were conuolu'd within this thrifty Roome.
Here, stalkes me by, a proud, and spangled Sir,
That lookes three handfuls higher then his fore-top;
Sauors himself alone, is only kind
And louing to himself: One that will speake
More darke and doubtfull then sixe oracles;
Salutes a friend, as if he had a stitch,
Is his owne Chronicle, and scarce can eate
For registring himself; is waited on,
By Mimiques, Iesters, Pandars, Parasites,
And other such like Prodigies of men.
He past; there comes some subtill Proteus: One
Can change, and vary with all formes he sees;
Be any thing but honest; serues the time;
Houers betwixt two factions, and explores
The drifts of both; which (with crosse face) he beares
To the deuided heads, and is receiu'd
With mutuall grace of either: One that dares
Do deeds worthy the Hurdle, or the Wheele,
To be thought some body; and is (in sooth)
Such as the Satyrist points truly foorth,
Criminibus debent hortos, prætoria, mensas:
M
You tell us wonders Criticus.
D
Tut, this is nothing.
There stands a Neophyte, glazing of his face,
Against his Idoll enters; and repeats,
(Like an vnperfect Prologue, at third Musique)
His part of speeches, and confederate Iests
In passion to himself; Another sweares
His Scene of Courtship over, and then seemes
As he would kisse away his hand in kindnesse;
A third, is most in Action; swims, and frisks,
Playes with his mistresse paps, salutes her pomps;
Will spend his Patrimonie for a Garter,
Or the least fether in her bounteous Fanne:
A fourth, he only comes in for a Mute,
Diuides the Act with a dumbe shew, and Exit,
Then must the Ladies laugh: streight comes their Scene;
A sixth times worse Confusion then the Rest.
Where you shall heare one talke of this mans Eye;
Another of his Lip, a third, his Nose;
A fourth commend his Leg, a fifth his Foote,
A sixth his Hand, and euery one a lim;
That you would think the poore distorted Gallant
Must there expire: Then fall they in discourse
Of Tires, and Fashions; how they must take place:
Where they may kisse; and whom: when to sit down;
And with what grace to rise; if they salute,
What curtesie they must vse; such Cob-web stuffe,
As would enforce the commonst sence abhorre
The Arachnean workers.
M
Patience Criticus.
This knot of Spiders will be soone dissolu'd,
And all their webbes swept out of Cynthias Court,
When once her glorious Deity appeares,
And but presents itself in her full light:
Till when, go in: and spend your howers with us
Your honor'd friends Timæ, and Phronesis,
In contemplation of our Goddesse name:
Think on some sweet, and choyse Inuention now,
(Worthy her serious, and illustrous Eyes)
That from the merit of it we may take
Desier'd occasion to prefer your worth,
And make your seruice knowne to Cynthia:
It is the pride of Arete to grace
Her studious louers; and (in scorne of Time,
Enuy, and Ignorance) to lift their state
Above a vulgar height. True Happinesse
Consists not in the multitude of friends,
But in the worth, and choyse; Nor would I have
Vertue, a popular Reguard pursew;
Let them be good that loue me, though but few.
D
I kisse thy hands, diuinest Arete,
And vowe myself to thee, and Cynthia.
Exeunt.

4.5. S3.5

E A little more forward; So Sir. Now go in, dis-cloake yourself, and come forth. Taylor; bestow thy absence upon us; and be not prodigall of this secret, but to a deare Customer. It is well enter'd Sir. Stay you come on too fast; your Pace is too impetuous. Imagine this to be the Pallace of your Pleasure, or Place where your Lady is pleas'd to be seene: First you present yourself thus; and spying her you fall off, and walke some two turnes; in which time it is to be suppos'd your Passion hath sufficiently whited your Face? then (stifling a sigh or two, and closing your lippes) with a trembling boldnesse, and bolde terror; you aduance yourself forward. Try thus much I pray you.
F Yes Sir, (pray god I can light on it) Here I come in you say: and present myself?
E Good.
F And then I spy her, and walke off?
E Very good. Or thus Sir. All variety of diuine pleasures, choyse sports, sweete Musique, rich Fare, braue Attires, soft Beds, and silken thoughts, attend this deare Beauty.
F Beleeue me that is prerty: All varietie of diuine pleasures, choyse sports, sweet Musique, rich Fare, braue Attires, soft Beds, and silken thoughts, attend this deare Beauty.
E And then, offring to kisse her hand, if she shall coyly recoyle, and signifie your repulse; you are to re-enforce yourself with, More then most faire Lady; let not the Rigor of your iust disdaine thus coursly censure of your seruants zeale: and (with-all) protest her, To be the only, and absolute vn-paraleled Creature, you do adore, and admire, and respect, and reuerence, in this Court, Corner of the world, or Kingdome.
F This is hard by my faith: I will begin it all againe.
E Do so, and I will Act it for your Lady.
F Will you vouchsafe sir? All varietie of diuine pleasures, choise Sports, sweete Musique, rich Fare, braue Attire, soft Beds, and silken thoughts, attend this deare Beauty.
E So Sir, pray you a way.
F More then most faire Lady, let not the Rigor of your iust disdaine, thus coursly censure of your seruants zeale. I protest you are then only and absolute vn-aparailed —
E Vn-paraleld.
F Vn-paraleld Creature, I do adore, and admire, and respect, and reuerence, in this Court, Corner of the world, or kingdome.
E This is if she abide you: But now; put case she should be Passant when you enter, as thus: you are to frame your Gate ther'after, and call upon her: Lady, Nimph, Sweet Refuge, Starre of our Court: Then if she be Guardant, here: you are to come on, and (laterally disposing yourself,) sweare by her blushing and well coulored cheeke: the bright dye of her hayre, her Iuorie teeth, or some such white and Innocent oath, to induce you. If Reguardant; then, maintein your station, Briske, and Irpe, shew the supple motion of your plyant body: but (in chiefe) of your knee, and hand, which cannot but arride her proude Humor exceedingly.
F I conceiue you sir, I shall performe all these things in good time, I doubt not, they do so hit me.
E Well Sir, I am your Lady; make vse of any of these beginnings, or some other out of your owne inuention: and prooue how you can holde up and follow it. Say, Say.
F Yes Sir: my deare Lindabrides.
E No, you affect that Lindabrides too much: And (let me tell you) it is not so Courtly. Your Pedant should prouide you some parcels of French, or some pretty Commodity of Italian to commence with, if you would be exotick, and exquisite.
F Yes Sir, he was at my lodging the other morning, I gaue him a Doublet.
E Double your beneuolence, and give him the Hose too; cloathe you his body, he will helpe to apparaile your minde. But now, see what your proper Genius can performe alone, without adiection of any other Minerua.
F I comprehend you sir.
E I do stand you Sir: fall backe to your first place. Good; passing well: Very properly pursewd.
F Beautiful, ambiguous, and sufficient Lady. What are you all alone.
E We would be Sir, if you would leaue us.
F I am at your beauties appointment: bright Angell; but —
E What but?
F No harme, more then most faire feature.
E That touch relished well.
F But I protest.
E And why should you protest?
F For good will (deare esteem'd Madam) and I hope your Ladiship will so conceiue of it: If euer you have seene great TAMBERLAINE.
E O that Blanke was excellent: if you could pick out more of these Play-particles, and (as occasion shall salute you) embroyder or damaske your discourse with them (perswade your soule) it would iudiciouslye commend you: Come, this was a well-dischar'gd and auspicious Bout: prooue the second.
F Lady, I cannot swagger it in Black and Yellow.
E Why if you can Reuell it in White Sir, it is sufficient.
F Say you so Sweete Lady? Lan, tede de, de, dant, dant, dant, dante, &c No (in good faith) Madame, whoseuer tould your Ladyship so, abus'd you; but I would be glad to meete your Ladiship in a measure.
E Me Sir? beelike you measure me by yourself then?
F Would I might Fayre Feature.
E And what were you the better, if you might?
F The better it please you to aske, Fayre Lady.
E Why this was rauishing, and most acutely continew'd; Well, spend not your humor too much, you have now competently exercised your Conceipt: this (once or twise a day) will render you an accomplisht, elaborate, and well leueled Gentleman; conuay in your Courting-stock, we will (in the heate of this) go visite the Nymphs Chamber.

5. A4

5.1. S4.1

N I would this water would arriue once our trauayling friend so commended to us.
O So would I, for he has left all us in trauaile, with expectation of it.
N Pray Ioue, I neuer rise from this Couch, if euer I thirsted more for a thing, in my whole time of being a Courtier.
P Nor I, I will be sworne; the very mention of it sets my lippes in a worse heate, then if he had sprinkled them with Mercury. Reach me the glasse Sirah.
K Here Lady.
Q They do not peele sweete charge? do they?
P Yes a little Guardian.
Q O it is a imminent good signe. Euer when my lippes do so, I am sure to have some delicious good drinke or other approaching.
O Mary and this may be good for us Ladies: for (it seemes) it is far-set by their stay.
Q My pallat for yours (deare Honor) it shall prooue most elegant I warrant you: O, I do fancie this geare that is long a comming, with an vnmeasurable strayne.
N Pray thee sit downe Philautia, that Rebatu beecoms thee singularly.
P Is it not queynt?
N Yes faith: me thinks thy seruant Hedon is nothing so obsequious to thee, as he was wont to be; I know not how, He is growne out of his Garbe a-late, he is warp't.
B In truenesse, and so me thinks too, he is much conuerted.
P Tut; let him be what he will, it is an Animall I dreame not of. This tire (me thinks) makes me looke very Ingenuously, quick, and spirited: I should be some Laura, or some Delia me thinks.
Q As I am wise (faire honors) that title she gaue him, to be her Ambition, spoild him: Before, he was the most propitious, and obseruant young Nouice. —
N No, no; you are the whole heauen awry Guardian, it is the swaggering tilt-horse Anaides drawes with him there, has been the diuerter of him.
P For Cupids sake speake no more of him; would I might neuer dare to looke in a Mirror againe, if I respect ere a Marmaset of them all, otherwise, then I would a Fether, or my Shittle-cock, to make sport with, now and then.
N Come sit downe; troath (and you be good Beauties) let us run over them all now: Which is the properst man amongst them? I say the Trauailer, Amorphus.
P O fie on him: he lookes like a Dutch Trumpetter in the battell of Lepanto, in the gallery yonder; and speakes to the tune of a country Lady, that comes euer in the rere ward, or traine of a Fashion.
Q I should have iudgement, in a feature sweet Beauties.
N A body would think so, at these yeares.
Q And I prefer another now, farre before him, A million at least.
N Who might that be Guardian?
Q Mary (faire Charge) Anaides.
N Anaides? you talk't of a tune Philautia, there is one speakes in a Key: like the opening of some Iustices gate, or a Post-Boyes horne, as if his voyce fear'd an Arrest for some ill words it should give, and were loath to come forth.
P Aye, and he has a very imperfect face.
N Like a squeez'd Orenge, sower, sower.
P His Hand is too great too; by at least a strawes breadth.
N Nay he has a woorse fault then that too.
P A long heele?
N That were a fault in a Lady rather then him: No, they say he puts off the Calues of his Legges with his Stockings euery night.
P Out upon him: turne to another of the Pictures for Gods sake. What saies Argurion? whom does she commend afore the rest?
K I hope I have instructed her sufficiently for an answere.
Q Troth I made the motion to her Lady-ship for one to day in the Presence, but it appear'd she was other wayes furnisht before; She would none.
N Who was that Argurion?
Q Mary the little, poore, plaine Gentleman in the black there.
N Who? Criticus?
O Aye, aye, he; A fellow that no body so much as lookt upon, or regarded, and she would have had me done him particuler grace.
N That was a true trick of yourself Moria, to perswade Argurion affect the scholler.
O Tut; but she shall be no chooser for me. In good faith I like the Citizens sonne there Asotus, me thinks, none of them all come neare him.
N Not Hedon?
O Hedon, in troth no. Hedon is a pretty slight Courtier, and he weares his clothes well, and sometimes in fashion; marry his face is but indifferent, and he has no such excellent body. No; the other is a most delicate youth, a sweete face, a streight body, a well proportion'd legge, and foote, a white hand, a tender voyce.
P How now Argurion?
N O you should have let her alone, she was bestowing a Coppy of him upon us.
P Why she doates more palpably upon him, then ere his Father did upon her.
N Beleeue me, the young gentleman deserues it; if she could doate more it were not amisse: He is an exceeding proper youth, and would have made a most neate Barber-surgeon, if he had been put to it in time.
P Say you so? me thinks, he lookes like a Taylor already.
N Aye, that had said on one of his Customers suites.
O Well Ladyes, Iest on: the best of you both would be glad of such a seruant.
Q Aye, I will be sworne would they: go to Beauties, make much of Time, and Place, and Occasion, and Opportunity, and Fauorites, and things that belong to them; for I will ensure you, they will all relinquish; they cannot endure above another yeere; I know it out of future experience, and therefore take exhibition, and warning: I was once a Reueller myself, and though I speake it (as mine owne Trumpet) I was then esteemd —
P The very Marchpane of the Court I warrant?
N And all the Gallants came about you like flies, did they not?
Q Go to; they did somewhat, that is no matter now. Here comes Hedon.

5.2. S4.2

G Saue you sweete and cleare beauties: By the spirit that mooues in me, you are almost pleasingly bestow'd Ladies. Only, I can take it for no good Omen, to finde mine Honor so deiected.
P You need not feare Sir, I did of purpose humble myself against your comming, to decline the pride of my Ambition.
G Fayre Honor, Ambition dares not stoope; but if it be your sweet pleasure, I shall loose that Title; I will (as I am Hedon) apply myself to your bounties.
P That were the next way to distitle myself of Honor: O no, rather be still Ambitious I pray you.
G I will be any thing that you please, whilst it pleaseth you to be yourself Lady. Sweete Phantaste, Deare Moria, most beautifull Argurion —
H Farewell Hedon.
G Anaides, Stay: whither go you?
H 'Slight, what should I do here? and you engrose them all for your owne vse, it is time for me to seeke out.
G I engrose them? Away mischiefe, this is one of your extrauagant Iests now, because I began to salute them by their names —
H Faith you might have spar'de us Madame Prudence the Guardian there, though you had more couetously aymde at the rest.
G 'Shart, take them all man; what speake you to me of ayming or Couetous?
H Aye, say you so? nay then, have at them: Ladies, here is one hath distinguish'd you by your names already; It shall only become me, to aske; How you do?
G Gods son, was this the disseigne you trauel'd with?
N Who answers the Brazen head? it spoke to some body?
H Lady Wisedome, do you Interprete for these puppets?
Q In truth, and sadnesse (Honors) you are in great offence for this; go to; the Gentleman (I will vndertake with him) is a man of aire liuing, and able to maintaine a Lady in her two Coaches a day, besides Pages, Munkeys, and Parachitos, with such attendants as she shall think meete for her turne; and therefore there is more respect requirable, how soeuer you seeme to conniue: Hearke you Sir, let me discourse a sillable with you. I am to say to you, these Ladyes are not of that close, and open behauiour, as happily you may suspend; their Cariadge is well knowne to be such as it should be, both gentle and extraordinary.
B O here comes the other Payre.

5.3. S4.3

E That was your Fathers Loue, the Nymph Argurion. I would have you direct all your Courtship thither, if you could but endeare yourself to her affection, you were eternally engallanted.
F In truth Sir? pray Phoebus I prooue sauorsome in her fayre eyes.
E All diuine mixture, and encrease of beauty, to this bright Beuy of Ladyes; and to the male-Courtiers Complement, and Courtesie.
G In the behalfe of the Males, I gratefie you Amorphus.
N And I of the Females.
E Succinctly spoken: I do vale to both your thanks, and kisse them; but primarily to yours, Most ingenious, acute, and polite Lady.
P Gods my life, how he does all to be qualifie her! Ingenious, Acute, and Polite, as she.
G Yes, but you must know Lady, he cannot speake out of a Dictionary method.
N Sit downe sweete Amorphus. When will this water come think you?
E It cannot now be long fayre Lady.
K Now obserue Mercury.
F How most Ambiguous beauty? Loue you? that I will by this Hand-kercher.
B 'Slid he drawes his oathes out of his pocket.
O But will you be constant?
F Constant Madame? I will not say for Constantnesse, but by this Pursse (which I would be loath to sweare by, unless it were embroyder'd) I protest (more then most fayre Lady) you are the onley, absolute and vn-paraleld Creature, I do adore, and admire, and respect, and reuerence in this Court, Corner of the world, or Kingdome, me thinks you are Melancholy.
O Does your heart speake all this?
F Say you?
B O he is groaping for another oath.
F Now by this Watch (I marle how forward the day is) I do vnfaignedly vowe myself ('Slight it is deeper then I tooke it, past fiue) your's entirely addicted, Madame.
O I require no more dearest Asotus, hence-forth let me call you mine; and in remembrance of me, voutchsafe to weare this Chaine, and this Diamond.
F O god sweete Lady.
K There are new oathes for him: what? doth Hermes taste no Alteration in all this?
B Yes, thou hast strooke Argurion enamour'd on Asotus me thinks?
K Alasse no; I am no body, I: I can do nothing in this disguise.
B But thou hast not wounded any of the rest, Cupid?
K Not yet: it is enough that I have begunne so prosperously.
O Tut, these are nothing to the Gems I will howerly bestow upon thee: be but faithfull and kinde to me, and I will lade thee with my richest bounties: beholde here my Bracelets from mine Armes.
F Not so good Lady, By this Diamond.
O Take them; weare them: my Iewels, Chaine of Pearle, Pendants, all I have.
F Nay then, by this Pearle You make me a Wanton.
K Shall not she answere for this, to mainteine him thus in swearing?
B O, no, there is a way to weane him from this: the Gentleman may be reclaim'd.
K Aye, if you had the ayring of his apparell Cosse, I think.
F Louing? it were pitty I should be liuing else, beleeue me. Saue you Sir. Saue you sweete Lady, Saue you Mounsieur Anaides; Saue you deare Madame.
H Dost thou knowe him that saluted thee, Hedon?
G No, some idle Fungoso I warrant you.
H 'Sbloud, I neuer saw him till this morning, and he salutes me as familiarly, as if we had knowne together, since the first yeare of the siege of Troy.
E A most right-handed, and auspicious encounter. Confine yourself to your fortunes.
P For gods sake let us have some Riddles or Purposes; hough.
N No faith, your Prophecies are best, the 'tother are stale.
P Prophecies? we cannot all sit in at them; we shall make a confusion: no; what calde you that we had in the forenoone?
N Substantiues, and Adiectiues. Is it not Hedon?
P Aye that, who begins?
N I have thought; speake your Adiectiues Sirs?
P But do not you change them.
N Not I, Who sayes?
Q Odoriferous.
P Popular.
O Humble.
H White-liuer'd.
G Barbarous.
E Pythagoricall.
G Yours Signior.
F What must I do Sir?
E Give foorth your Adiectiue with the rest; as Prosperous, Good, Faire, Sweete, Well.
G Any thing that hath not been spoken.
F Yes Sir: Well-spoken shall be mine.
N What? have you all done.
X Aye.
N Then the Substantiue is Breeches. Why Odoriferous Breeches Guardian?
Q Odoriferous, because Odoriferous: that which containes most variety of sauor, and smell, we say is most Odoriferous: Now Breeches I presume are incident to that variety, and therefore, Odoriferous Breeches.
N Well, we must take it howsoeuer, who is next, Philautia.
P Popular.
N Why Popular Breeches?
P Mary that is, when they are not content to be generally noted in Court; but will presse foorth on common Stages, and Brokers stalls, to the publique view of the world.
N Good: why Humble Breeches? Argurion.
O Humble, because they vse to be sat upon; besides if you tye them not up, their propertie is to fall downe about your heeles.
B She has worne the Breeches it seemes which have done so.
N But why White-liuerd?
F Well-spoken: mary well-spoken, because whatsouer they speake is well taken, and whatsoeuer is well taken, is well-spoken.
Q Excellent: beleeue me.
F Not so Ladyes neither.
G But why Breeches now?
N Breeches quasi Beare-riches; when a gallant beares all his Ritches in his Breeches.
P In good faith these vnhappy Pages, would be whipt for staying thus.
Q Beshrew my hand, and my hart else.
E I do wonder at their protraction.
H Pray God my whore have not discouer'd herself to the raskally Boyes, and that be the cause of their stay.
F I must sute myself with another Page; this idle Prosaites will neuer be brought to waite well.
Q Sir I have a kinseman I could willingly wish to your seruice, if you would deigne to accept of him.
F And I shall be glad (most sweet Lady) to imbrace him; where is he?
Q I can fetch him Sir, but I would be loath to make you turne away your other Page.
F You shall not most sufficient Lady, I will keepe both: pray you let us go see him.
Exeunt.
O Whither goes my Loue?
F I will returne presently; I go but to see a Page with this Lady.
H As sure as Fate it is so; she has opened all: A poxe of all Cocatrices. Damne me if she have playde loose with me, I will cut her throate within a hayres bredth, so it may be heald againe.
Exit.
B What is he Iealous of his Hermaphrodite?
K O Aye, this will be excellent sporte.
P Phantaste, Argurion, what? you are sodainly stroake me thinks; for Gods will let us have some Musique till they come. Ambition reach the Lyra I pray you.
G Any thing to which my Honor shall direct me.
P Come Amorphus; cheare up Phantaste.
E It shall be my pride faire Lady to attempt all that is in my power. But here is an Instrument that (alone) is able to infuse soule in the most melancholique, and dull disposde Creature upon earth; O! let me kisse thy faire knees: Beauteous eares attend it.
G Will you have the Kisse Honor.
P Aye good Ambition.
Ode.
U
O That Ioy so soone should wast!
or so sweet a blisse
as a Kisse,
Might not for euer last!
So sugred, so melting, so soft, so delicious,
The dew that lyes on Roses,
When the Morne herself discloses,
is not so pretious:
O, rather then I would it smother,
Were I to taste such another;
It should be my wishing
That I might dye kissing.
G I made this Ditty and the Note to it upon a kisse that my Honor gaue me; how like you it Sir.
E A pretty Ayre; in generall I like it well. But in particuler, your long die-Note did arride me most, but it was somwhat too long: I can shew one, almost of the same nature, but much before it, and not so long; in a Composition of mine owne: I think I have both the Note, and Ditty about me.
G Pray you Sir see.
E Yes there is the Note; and all the parts if I mis-thinke not. I will reade the Ditty to your Beauties here, but first I am to make you familiar with the occasion, which presents itself thus. upon a time, going to take my leaue of the Emperour, and kisse his great handes; there being then present, the Kings of Fraunce, and Arragon, the Dukes of Sauoy, Florence, Orleance, Bourbon, Brunswick, the Lantgraue, Count Palatine, all which had seuerally feasted me; besides infinite more of inferiour persons, as Earles, and others: it was my chance (the Emperour detain'd by some other affayre) to waite him the fifth part of an houre, or much near it. In which time (retiring myself into a Bay-window) I encountred the Lady Annabel neice to the Empresse, and sister to the king of Arragon; who (hauing neuer before eyde me, but only heard the common report of my Vertue, Learning, and Trauaile) fell into that extremity of passion, for my loue, that she there immediatly sounded: Phisitians were sent for; she had to her chamber; so to her bed; where (languishing some few daies) after many times calling upon me, with my name in her mouth, she expirde. As that (I must needes say) is the only fault of my Fortune, that as it hath euer been my hap to be sew'd to by all Ladies, and Beauties where I have come, so, I neuer yet soiourn'd, or rested in that place, or part of the world, where some great and admirable faire Creature died not for my loue.
B O the sweete power of trauaile, are you guilty of this Cupid?
K No Mercury; and that his page (Cos) knowes, and he were here present to be sworne.
P But how doth this draw on the Ditty Sir.
Q O she is too quick with him; he hath not deuis'd that yet.
E Marry some houre before she departed, she bequeath'd to me this Gloue; which the Emperour himself tooke care to send after me, in sixe Coaches, couer'd all with black-veluet, attended by the state of his Empire; all which he freely gaue me, and I reciprocally (out of the same bounty) gaue it to the Lords that brought it: only reseruing, and respecting, the gift of the deceasde Lady, upon which I compos'd this Ode, and set it to my most affected Instrument the Lyra.
Ode.
U
Thou more then most sweete Gloue,
Vnto my more sweete Loue;
Suffer me to store, with kisses
This empty lodging, that now misses
The pure Rosie hand that ware thee,
Whiter then the Kid that bare thee:
Thou art soft, but that was softer;
Cupids self hath kist it ofter,
Then ere he did his mothers Doues,
Supposing her the Queene of Loues
That was thy Mistris
Best of Gloues.
B Blasphemy, Blasphemy Cupid.
K Aye, I will reuenge it time inough; Hermes.
P Good Amorphus, let us hear it sung.
E I care not to do that, since it pleaseth Philautia to request it.
G Here Sir.
E Nay play it I pray you, you do well, you do well; how like you it Sir?
He sings.
G Very well in troath.
E But very well? O you are a meere Mammothrept in iudgement then: why do not not obserue how excellently the Ditty is affected in euery place? that I do not marry a word of short quantity, to a long Note, nor an ascending Sillable to a discending Tone. Besides upon the worde Best there, you see how I do enter with an odde Minnum, and driue it thorough the Briefe, which no intelligent Musitian (I know) but will affirme to be very rare, extraordinary, and pleasing.
B And yet not fit to lament the death of a Lady for all this.
K Tut here be they will swallow any thing.
N Pray you let me have a coppy of it Amorphus.
P And me too, in troath I like it exceedingly.
E I have denyed it to Princes, neuerthelesse to you (the true Female Twinnes of Perfection) I am wonne to depart withall.
G I hope I shall have my Honors coppy.
N You are Ambitious in that Hedon.
Enter Anaides.
E How now Anaides? what is it hath coniur'd up this distemperature in the circle of your face?
H 'Sblod what have you to do? A pox of God on your filthy trauailing Beard; hold your tongue.
G Nay, dost heare mischiefe?
H Away Musk-cat.
E I say to thee: Thou art rude, impudent, course, impolisht; a Frapler, and base.
G Heart of my father, what a strange alteration has halfe a yeeres haunting of Ordinaries wrought in this fellow? that came with a Tuff-taffata Ierkin to Towne but the other day, and now he is turn'd Hercules, he wants but a Club.
H Sir, I will garter my hose with your guttes; and that shall be all.
Exit.
B 'Slid what rare fire workes be here? flash, flash.
N What is the matter Hedon? can you tell?
G Nothing but that he lacks mony, and thinkes we will lend him some to be friends.
Enter Asot Mor Morus
F Come sweete Lady, in good truth I will have it, you shall not deny me: Morus perswade your Aunt I may have her picture, by any meanes.
J Yes Sir: good Aunt now, let him have it; he will vse me the better, if you loue me, do good Aunt.
Q Well, tell him he shall have it.
J Maister, you shall have it, she saies;
F Shall I? thanke her good Page.
K What has he entertaind the Foole?
B Aye, he will waite close you shall see, though the Begger hang off.
J Aunt my maister thankes you.
Q Call him hither.
J Yes: maister.
Q Yes in very truth, and gaue me this Pursse, and he has promis'd me a most fine Dog; which he will have drawne with my Picture, and desires most vehemently to be knowne to your Ladyshipps.
N Call him hither, it is good groping such a Gull.
Q Maister Asotus. Maister Asotus.
F For Gods sake, let me go: you see, I am call'd to the Ladies.
O Wilt thou forsake me then?
F Gods son, what would you have me do?
Q Come hither maister Asotus; I do ensure your Ladyships, he is a Gentleman of a very worthy desart; and of a most bountifull nature. You must shew and insinuate yourself responsible, and equiualent now to my commendment. Good Honors grace him.
F I protest (more then most faire Ladyes) I do wish all variety of diuine pleasure, choyse sport, sweete Musique, ritch Fare, braue Attyres, soft Beds, and silken Thoughts, attend these fayre Beauties. Will it please your Ladyship to weare this Chaine of Pearle, and this Diamond for my sake.
O O.
F And you Madam this Iewell, and Pendants.
O O.
N we know not how to deserue these bounties out of so slight merrit, Asotus.
P No in faith, but there is my Gloue for a fauor.
N And soone after the Reuels I will bestowe a Garter on you.
F O Lord Ladyes, it is more grace then euer I could have hop'd, but that it pleaseth your Ladyships to extend; I protest it is enough that you but take knowledge of my — if your Ladiships want embroydered Gownes, Tyres of any Fashion, Rebatus, Iewels, or Carkanets, any thing what soeuer; if you vouchsafe to accept.
K And for it they will helpe you to Shoo-tyes, and deuises.
F I cannot vtter myself (Deare Beauties) but; you can conceiue —
O O.
N Sir we will acknowledge your seruice doubt not; henceforth you shall be no more Asotus to us, but our Golde-Finch, and we your Cages.
G O God Madams, how shall I deserue this? if I were but made acquainted with Hedon now; I will trye: pray you away.
B How he prayes Money to go away from him.
F Amorphus, a word with you: here is a Watch I would bestowe upon you, pray you make me knowne to that Gallant.
E That I will Sir. Mounsieur Hedon I must intreate you to exchange knowledge with this Gentleman.
G it is a thing (next to the water we expect) I thirste after Sir. Good Mounsieur Asotus.
F Good Mounsieur Hedon, I would be glad to be lou'd of men of your Ranke, and spirit, I protest. Please you to accept this payre of Bracelets Sir, they are not worth the bestowing.
B O Hercules; how the Gentleman purchases? this must needes bring Argurion to a consumption.
G Sir, I shall neuer stand in the merit of such Bounty. I feare.
F O Lord Sir; your acquaintance shall be sufficient. And if at any time you neede my Bill or my Bond.
O O, O.
Argurion swones.
E Helpe the Lady there.
Q Gods deare, Argurion. Madam, how do you?
O Sicke.
N Have her foorth and give her ayre.
F I come againe streight Ladyes.
B Well, I doubt all the Phisique he has, will scarce recouer her; she is too farre spent.
Exeunt Asotus, Morus, Argurion

5.4. S4.4

P O here is the Water come: fetche Glasses Page.
S Heart of my body here is a coyle indeed with your Iealous humors. Nothing but Whore, and Bitch, and all the villanous swaggering names you can think on? 'Slid take your Bottle, and put it in your guttes for me, I will see you poxt ere I follow you any longer?
H Nay good Punke, sweete Rascall; damne me if I am Iealous now.
S That is true indeed, pray let us go.
Q What is the matter there?
S Slight he has me upon Intergatories, (nay my Mother shall know how you vse me) where I have been? and why I should stay so long? and how is it possible? and with-all calles me at his pleasure; I knowe not how many Cocatrices, and things.
Q In truth and sadnesse, these are no good Epithites Anaides: to bestow upon any Gentlewoman; and (I will ensure you) if I had knowne you would have dealt thus with my Daughter, she should neuer have fancied you so deeply, as she has done. Go to.
H Why do you heare Mother Moria. Heart.
Q Nay I pray you Sir do not sweare.
H Sweare? why? Sblood I have sworne afore now I hope. Both you and your daughter mistake me; I have not honor'd Arete that is helde the worthyest Lady in the Court (next to Cynthia) with halfe that obseruance and respect, as I have done her in priuate, howsoeuer outwardly I have carried myself carelesse and negligent. Come you are a foolish Punke, and know not when you are well employde. Kisse me. Come on. Do it I say.
Q Nay, indeed I must confesse she is apt to misprision. But I must have you leaue it Minion.
Enter Asotus.
E How now Asotus? how does the Lady?
F Fayth ill. I have left my Page with her at her lodging.
G O here is the rarest Water that euer was tasted; fill him some.
I What? has my Maister a new Page?
B Yes a kinsman of the Lady Morias: you must waite better now, or you are casheer'd Prosaites.
H Come Gallants; you must pardon my foolish humor, when I am angry, that any thing crosses me, I grow impatient streight. Here I drinke to you.
P O that we had fiue or sixe Bottles more of this liquor.
N Now I commend your iudgement Amorphus: who is that knockes? looke Page.
Q O most delicious, a little of this would make Argurion well.
N O no give her no colde drinke by any meanes.
H Sblood, this water is the spirit of Wine, I will be hangd else.
K Here is the Lady Arete Madam.

5.5. S4.5

M What at your Bouer Gallants?
Q Will it please your Lady-shipp drinke, it is of the new fountaine water.
M Not I, Moria; I thanke you: Gallants you must prouide for some solemne Reuels to night, Cynthia is minded to come foorth, and grace your sports with her presence; therefore I could wish there were some thing extraordinary to entertaine her.
E What say you to a Masque?
G Nothing better, if the Inuention or Proiect were new and rare.
M Why, I will send for Criticus, and have his aduise; you will be ready in your indeuours;
N Yes; but will not your Lady-ship stay?
M Not now Phantaste.
Exit.
P Let her go, I pray you; good Lady Sobriety, I am glad we are rid of her.
N What a set Face the gentlewoman has, as she were still going to a Sacrifice?
P O she is the extraction of a dozen of Puritans, for a looke.
Q Of all Nimphs in the Court I cannot away with her: it is the coursest thing —
P I wounder how Cynthia can affect her so above the rest! Here be they are euery way as faire as she, and a thought, fayrer, I trow.
N Aye, and as ingenious, and conceipted as she.
Q Aye and as politique as she, for all she sets such a Fore-head on it.
P Would I were dead if I would change to be Cynthia.
N Or I.
Q Or I.
E And there is her Minion Criticus; why his aduise more then Amorphus? have I not Inuention, afore him? Learning, to better that Inuention, above him? and Trauaile.—
H Death, what talke you of his Learning? he vnderstands no more then a schoole-Boy; I have put him downe myself a thousand times (by this Ayre) and yet I neuer talkt with him but twise in my life; you neuer saw his like: I could neuer get him to argue with me, but once, and then because I could not construe, a peece of Horace at first sighte, he went awaye and laught at me. By Gods will, I scorne him, as I do the sodden Nimph that was here even now; his mistris Arete: And I loue myself for nothing else.
G I wonder the Fellow does not hang himself, being thus scorn'd, and contemn'd of us that are held the most accomplisht Society of Gallants!
B By your selves none else.
G I protest, if I had no Musique in me, no Courtship; that I were not a Reueller and could daunce, or had not those excellent qualities that give a man Life, and Perfection, but a meere poore Scholler as he is, I think I should make some desperate way with myself; whereas now (would I might neuer breath more) if I do know that Creature in this kingdome, with whom I would change.
K This is excellent: well I must alter this soone.
B Looke you do Cupid.
F O I shall tickle it soone; I did neuer appeare till then. Slid I am the neatliest-made Gallant in the company, and have the best presence; and my dauncing — I know what the Vsher saide to me the last time I was at the schoole; would I might leade Philautia in the measure, if it were gods will. I am most worthy, I am sure.
Enter Morus.
J Maister I can tell you newes, the Lady kist me yonder,
F to accept this poore Ruby in a Ring Sir. The poesie is of my owne deuise. Let this blush for me Sir.
H So it must for me, too. For I am not asham'd to take it.
Exit.
J Sweete man, by my troath maister I loue you; will you loue me too? for my Aunts sake? I will waite well you shall see, I will still be here. Would I might neuer stirre, but you are in gay clothes.
F As for that Morus, thou shalt see more here after, in the meanetime, by this Ayre, or by this Fether, I will do as much for thee as any Gallant shall do for his Page whatsoeuer, in this Court, corner of the world, or Kingdome.
Exeunt.
B I wounder this gentleman should affect to keepe a Foole, me thinks he makes sport enough with himself.
K Well Prosaites it were good you did waite closer.
I Aye, I will looke to it; it is time.
R we are like to have sumptuous Reuells to night Sirs.
B we must needes when all the choisest Singularities of the Court are up in Pantofles, never a one of them, but is able to make a whole shew of itself.
G Sirah a Torch, a torch.
Hedon within.
B O what a call is there? I will have a Canzonet made with nothing in it but Sirah; and the Burthen shall be. I come.
Exeunt Omnes.

5.6. S4.6

D
—. A masque, bright Arete?
Why it were a labour more for Hercules.
Better, and sooner durst I vndertake:
To make the different seasons of the Yeere,
The Windes, or Elements to sympathize;
Then their vnmeasurable vanity
Daunce truely in a measure: They agree?
What though all Concord is borne of Contraries?
So many Follies will confusion prooue,
And like a sort of iarring Instruments,
All out of tune; because (indeed) we see
There is not that Analogy twixt Discords,
As betweene things but meerely opposite.
M
There is your error; for as Hermes wande
Charmes the disorders, of tumultuous Ghosts,
And as the strife of Chaos then did cease,
When better light then Natures did arriue;
So, what could neuer in itself agree,
Forgetteth the eccentrick property,
And at her sight turnes foorth with regular,
Whose scepter guides the flowing Ocean:
And though it did not, yet the most of them
(Being either Courtiers, or not wholy rude)
Respect of Maiesty, the Place, and Presence,
Will keepe them within Ring; especially
When they are not presented as themselves,
But masqu'd like others: for (in troth) not so
To incorporate them, could be nothing else
Then like a State vngouern'd, without lawes; or
A body made of nothing but diseases;
The one, through impotencie poore, and wretched;
The other for the Anarchy absurd.
D
But Lady, for the Reuellers themselves;
It would be better (in my poore conceipt,)
That others were imploy'd; for such as are
Vnfit to be in Cynthias Court, can seeme
No lesse vnfit to be in Cynthias sports.
M
That is not done (my Criticus) without
Particular knowledge of the Goddesse minde;
Who (holding true intelligence, what Follyes
Had crept into her Pallace) she resolud',
Of sports, and Triumphs; under that pretext,
To have them muster in their Pompe and Fulnesse:
That so she might more strictly, and to roote,
Effect the Reformation she intends.
D
I now conceiue her heauenly drift in all;
And will apply my spirits to serue thy will:
O thou, the very power by which I am;
And but for which, it were in vaine to be;
Chiefe next Diana, Virgin, heauenly fayre,
Admired Arete, (of them admir'd
Whose soules are not enkindled by the sence)
Disdeigne not my chast fire, but feed the flame
Deuoted truely to thy gracious name.
M Leaue to suspect us: Criticus shall finde As we are now most deare, we will prooue most kinde.
Arete Within.
M Harke, I am cald.
Exit.
D
I follow instantly,
Pho ebus Apollo: if with ancient Rites,
And due Deuotions, I have euer hung
Elaborate Pæans on thy golden Shrine,
Or sung thy Triumphs in a lofty straine;
Fit for a Theater of Gods to heare:
And thou the other sonne of mighty Ioue
Cyllenian Mercury (sweete Maias ioye)
If in the busie tumults of the minde,
My path thou euer hast illumined:
For which, thine Altars I have oft perfum'de,
And deckt thy Statue with discoulored flowers:
Now thriue Inuention in this glorious Court,
That not of bounty only, but of right,
Cynthia may grace, and give it life by sight.
Exit.

6. A5

6.1. S5.1

Hymnus.
C
Qveene and Huntresse, chaste, and fayre,
Now the Sunne is layde to sleepe,
Seated, in thy siluer Chayre,
State in wonted maner keepe:
Hesperus, intreats thy light,
Goddesse excellently bright.
Earth, let not thy enuious shade
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthias shining Orbe was made
Heauen to cleare, when day did close:
Blesse us then with wished sight,
Goddesse excellently bright.
Lay thy Bowe of Pearle apart.
And thy Christall-shining Quiuer;
Give vnto the flying Hart,
Space to breath, how short soeuer.
Thou, that makst a day of night,
Goddesse excellently Bright.
Exit.
A
When hath Diana, like an enuious wretch,
That glitters only to his soothed self,
Denying to the world the precious vse
Of hoorded wealth, with-held her friendly ayde?
Mon'thly we spend our still-repaired shine,
And not forbid our Virgin-waxen torch,
To burne, and blaze while nutriment doth last:
That once consum'd, out of Ioues treasury
Anew we take, and stick it in our Spheare
To give the mutinous kinde of wanting men,
Their lookt for light. Yet what is their desert?
“Bounty is wrong'd, interpreted as due;
“Mortalls can chalenge not a Ray but right.
“Yet do exspect the whole of Cynthias light:
But if that Deities with-drew their guifts,
For humane Follies, what should men deserue
But Death and Darknesse? It behoues the high,
For their owne sakes to do things worthely.
M
Most true, most sacred goddesse; for the Heauens
Receiue no good of all the good they do:
Nor Ioue, nor you, nor other heauenly Power,
Are fed with Fumes, which do from Incense rise,
Or Sacrifices reeking in their gore:
Yet for the care which you of mortalls have,
(Whose proper Good it is, that they be so;)
You well are pleas'd with Odours redolent:
But ignorant is all the Race of men,
Which still complaines, not knowing why, or when.
A
Else noble Arete, they would not blame,
And taxe for or vniust, or for as proud
Thy Cynthia, in the things which are indeed
The greatest glories in our starry crowne:
Such is our Chastity, which safely scornes,
Not Loue (for who more feruently doth loue
Immortall Honor, and diuine Renowne?)
But giddy Cupid, Venus frantick sonne.
Yet Arete, if by this vayled light
We but discouer'd (what we not discerne)
Any the least of imputations, stand
Ready to sprinkle our vnspotted fame,
With note of lightnesse, from these Reuels neare:
Not, for the Empire of the Vniuerse
Should Night or Court, this whatsoeuer shine
Or grace of ours, vnhappely enioy.
“Place, and Occasion are two priuy Thieues;
“And from poore innocent Ladies, often steale
“(The best of things) an honourable Name:
“To stay with Follyes, or where Faults may be,
“Infers a Crime, although the party free.
M
How Cynthianly (that is how worthely
And like herself) the matchlesse Cynthia speakes!
Infinite Iealousies, infinite Reguards,
Do watch about the true virginity:
But Pho ebe liues from all not only fault,
But as from thought, so from suspicion free,
Thy Presence broad-seales our delights for pure,
What is done in Cynthias sight, is done secure.
A
That then so answer'd (Dearest Arete)
What the Argument, or of what sort, our Sports
Are like to be this night; I not demaund.
Nothing which Duty, and desire to please
Beares written in the forehead, comes amisse;
But vnto whose Inuention, must we owe,
The complement of this nights furniture?
M l>Excellent Goddesse, to mans, whose worth, (Without Hyperbole,) I thus may praise; One (at least) studious, of deseruing well: And (to speake truth) indeed deseruing well, Potentiall merit stands for actuall, Where only Opportunity doth want, Not Will, nor Power: both which in him abound, One whom the Muses, and Minerua loue; For whom should they more loue then Criticus, Whom Pho ebus (though not Fortune) holdeth deare? And (which conuinceth excellence in him,) A principall admirer of yourself: Even, through the vngentle iniuries of Fate, And difficulties, which do vertue choake, Thus much of him appeares. What other things Of farther note, do lye vnborne in him, Them I do leaue for cherishment to shew. And for a Goddesse graciously to iudge.
A
We have already iudg'd him Arete:
Nor are we ignorant, how noble mindes
Suffer too much through those indignities,
Which Times, and vicious Persons cast on them:
Ourself have euer vowed to esteeme
(As Vertue, for itself) so Fortune, base;
Who first in Worth, the same be first in Place.
Nor farther notice (Arete) we craue
Then thine approualls soueraigne warranty:
Let, be thy care, to make us knowne to him;
Cynthia shall brighten what the World made dim.

6.2. S5.2

THE FIRST MASQVE. Cupid like Anteros.
K Cleare Pearle of Heauen, and not to be farther ambitious in titles Cynthia. The fame of this illustrious night, among others hath also drawne these foure faire Virgins from the Pallace of their Queene Perfection (a word, which makes no sufficient difference, twixt hers, and thine) to visit thy Imperiall Court: for she their Soueraigne Lady, not finding where to dwel among men, before her returne to heauen: aduised them wholy to consecrate themselves to thy Co elestiall seruice, as in whose cleare Spirit (the proper Element, and Sphare of vertues) they should behould not her alone, (their euer honor'd Mistresse) but themselves (more truely themselves) to liue enthronised. Herself would have commended them vnto thy fauour more particularly, but that she knowes no commendation is more auailable with thee then that of proper vertue: Neuerthelesse, she wilde them to present this Christall Mound, a note of Monarchy, and Symbole of Perfection, to thy more worthy Deity; which as here by me they most humbly do, so amongst the Rarities thereof, that is the chiefe, to shew whatsoeuer the world hath excellent, howsoeuer remote and various. But your irradiate iudgement will soone discouer the secrets of this little Christall world. Themselves (to appeare the more plainly) because they know nothing more odious then false pretexts: have chosen to expresse their seuerall qualities thus in seuerall coulors. 1 The first in Citron coullour is naturall Affection, which given us to procure our good, is sometime called Storge, and as euery one is neerest to himself, so this Hand-maid of Reason, allowable Selfe-loue, as it is without harme, so are none without it: Her place in the Court of Perfection was to quicken mindes in the pursute of Honor. her deuice is a Perpendicular Leuell upon a, Cube or Square. The word, SE SVO MODVLO: alluding to that true measure of ones self, which as euery one ought to make, so is it most conspicuous in thy diuine example. 2 The second in Greene is Aglaia, delectable and pleasant Conuersation, whose property it is to mooue a kindly delight, and sometime not without laughter: Her office to entertaine assemblies, and keepe societies together with fayre familliarity. Her deuice within a Ring of clouds, a Heart with shine about it, the worde, CVRARVM NVBILA PELLO. An Allegory of Cynthias light, which no lesse cleares the Skie, then her fayre Mirthe the heart. 3 The third, in discoulour'd Mantle spangled all over, is Euphantaste, a well conceited Wittinesse, and imployde in honouring the Courte with the ritches of her pure Inuention. Her deuice upon a Petasus, or Mercuriall Hat, a Crescent. The worde; SIC LAVS INGENII: Inferring that the praise and glory of Wit, doth euer increase, as doth thy growing Moone. 4 The fourth in White is Apheleia, a Nymph as pure and simple as the Soule, or as an abrase Table, and is therefore called Symplicity; without foulds, without pleights, without coullour, without counterfeit; and (to speake plainely) Plainenesse itself. Her deuice is no Deuice. The word under her siluer Shield: OMNIS ABEST FVCVS, alluding to thy spotlesse self, who art as farre from Impurity, as from Mortality. Myself (Co elestiall Goddesse) more fit for the Court of Cynthia, then the Arbors of Cythere, am call'd Anteros, or Loues enemy; the more welcome therefore to thy Court, and the fitter to conduct this Quaternio, who as they are thy professed Votaries, and for that cause aduersaries to Loue, yet thee (perpetuall Virgin) they both loue, and vow to loue eternally.

6.3. S5.3

A
Not without wounder, nor with out delight,
Mine eyes have veiwd in Contemplations depth,
This worke of wit, diuine, and excellent:
What Shape? what Substance? or what vnknowne Power
In virgins habit crown'd with Lawrell leaues
And Oliue branches wouen in betweene,
On Sea-girt Rocke like to a Goddesse shines?
O front! O face! O all celestiall sure
And more then mortall! Arete, behould
Another Cynthia, and another Queene,
Whose glory (like a lasting Plenilune)
Seems ignorant of what it is to wane.
Not under heauen an Obiect could be found
More fit to please; let Criticus approach,
Bounty forbids to paull our thankes with stay,
Or to deferre our fauour after view:
The time of Grace is, when the Cause is new.
M
Lo here the man (co elestiall Delia)
Who (like a Circle bounded in itself,)
Containes as much, as Man in fulnesse may,
Lo here the man; who, not of vsuall earth,
But of that nobler, and more precious mould
Which Pho ebus self doth temper, is compos'd;
And, who (though all were wanting to reward,
Yet, to himself he would not wanting be:
Thy Fauors gaine is his Ambitions most,
And labours best; who (humble in his height)
Stands fixed silent in thy glorious sight.
A
With no lesse pleasure, then we have beheld,
This pretious Christall, worke of rarest wit,
Our eye doth reade thee, now, our Criticus;
Whom Learning, Vertue, and our Fauour last,
Exempteth from the gloomy Multitude.
With common eye the Supreme should not see,
Hence forth be ours, the more thyself to be.
D
Heauens purest light, whose Orbe may be eclips'd,
But not thy Praise; (diuinest Cynthia)
How much too narrow for so high a grace,
Thy (saue therein) vnworthy Criticus:
Doth finde himself? for euer shine thy Fame;
Thine Honours euer, as thy Beauties do;
In me they must, my darke worldes chiefest Lights;
By whose propitious beames my powres are rais'd
To hope some part of those most lofty points.
Which blessed Arete hath pleas'd to name
As markes, which my 'ndeuors steps should bend:
Mine, as begunne at thee, in thee must end.

6.4. S5.4

THE SECOND MASQVE. Mercury as a Page.
B Sister of Pho ebus to whose bright Orbe we owe, that we not complaine of his Absence; These foure Brethren (for they are Brethren and sonnes of Eutaxia, a Lady knowne, and highly belou'd of your resplendent Deity) not able to be absent, when Cynthia held a solemnity, officiously insinuate themselves into thy presence: For as there are foure Cardinall vertues, upon which the whole Frame of the Court doth mooue, so are these the foure Cardinall properties without which the Body of Complement mooueth not. With those foure siluer Iauelins (which they beare in their hands) they support in Princes Courts the state of the Presence, as by office they are obliged; which though here they may seeme superfluous, yet for Honors sake they thus presume to visite thee, hauing also been imployde in the Pallace of Queene Perfection. And though to them, that would make themselves gratious to a Goddesse, Sacrifices were fitter then Presents or Impresses, yet they both hope thy fauor, and (in place of either) vse seuerall Symboles containing the titles of thy imperiall Dignity. 1 The hithermost in the changeable blew, and greene Roabe, is the commendably-fashionate Gallant Eucosmos, whose Courtly Habit is the grace of the Presence, and delight of the surueying eye: whom Ladies vnderstand by the names of Neate, and Elegant. His Symbol is DIVA E VIRGINI, in which he would expresse thy Deities principall glory, which hath euer been Virginity. 2 The second in the ritch Acoutrement, and Roabe of Purple empaled with Gold, is Eupathes; who intertaines his minde with an harmlesse, but not incurious variety: All the Obiects of his sences are Sumptuous, himself a Gallant, that without excesse can make vse of superfluities: go ritchly in Imbroyders, Iewels, (and what not?) without Vanity; and fare delicately without Gluttony: and therefore (not without cause) is vniuersally thought to be of fine humor. His Symbole is DIVA E OPTIMA E. An attribute to expresse thy Goodnesse in which thou so resemblest Ioue thy father. 3. The third in the blush-collourd Sute is Eutolmos, as duly respecting others, as neuer neglecting himself; commonly knowne by the title of Good Audacitie, to Courts and courtly assemblies, a guest most acceptable. His Simbole is DIVA E VIRAGINI, To expresse thy hardy Courage, in chase of Sauage beasts which harbor in Woods, and Wildernesse. 4. The fourth in Watchet-Tinsell, is the kinde, and truly Benefique Eucolos. Who imparteth not without respect, but yet without difficulty: and hath the happinesse to make euery kindnesse seeme double, by the timely, and freely bestowing thereof, he is the chiefe of them who (by the vulgar) are said to be of Good Nature. His Symbole is DIVA E MAXIMA E, An Adiunct to signifie thy greatness, which in heauen, earth, and hell is formidable.

6.5. S5.5

K Is not that Amorphus the Traueller?
B As though it were not? do you not see how his legges are in trauaile with a Measure?
K Hedon, thy maister is next.
B What will Cupid turne Nomenclator, and cry them?
K No faith, but I have a Comedy toward, that would not be lost for a kingdome.
B In good time, for Cupid will prooue the Comedy.
K Mercury, I am studying how to match them.
B such an Antiperistasis about the place, that no heate of thine will tarry with the Patient.
K It will tarry the rather, for the Antiperistasis will keep it in.
B I long to see the experiment.
K Why their marrow boyles already, or they are all turnd Eunuchs.
B Nay if it be so, I will give over speaking, and be a Spectator only.
They daunce the 1. Straine.
E Cynthia (by my bright soule) is a right exquisite, and spendidious Lady; yet Amorphus I think hath seene more fashions, I am sure more Countries; but whether I have or no: what need we gaze on Cynthia, that have ourself to admire?
N O excellent Cynthia; yet if Phantaste sat where she does, and had such a tyre on her head (for attire can do much) I say no more; but Goddesses are Goddesses, and Phantaste is as she is. I would the Reuels were done once, I might go to my Schoole of Glasse againe, and learne to do myself right after all this Ruffling.
B How now Cupid? here is a wonderfull change with your Brandish? do you not heare, how they doate?
K What Prodigie is this? no Word of Loue? no Mention? no Motion?
B Not a word my little Hell-fire, not a worde.
K Are my Darts enchanted? is their vigor gone? is their vertue —
B What? Cupid turn'd iealous of himself? ha, ha, ha.
K Laughes Mercury?
B Is Cupid angry?
K Hath he not cause, when his purpose is so deluded?
B A rare Comedy, it shall be intitled; Cupids.
K Do not scorne us Hermes.
B Chollar and Cupid are two fiery things; I scorne them not. But I see that come to passe which I presag'd in the beginning.
K You cannot tell: perhaps the Phisicke will not worke so soone upon some, as upon others. It may be the Rest are not so resty.
B Ex vngue, you know the old Adage; as these, so are the remainder.
K I will trye: this is the same Shafte with which I wounded Argurion.
B Aye, but let me saue you a labour Cupid: there were certaine Bottles of Water fetcht, and drunke off, (since that time,) by these Gallants.
K Ioue strike me into earth: The Fountaine of Selfe-loue?
B Nay faint not Cupid.
K I remembred it not.
B Faith it was omenous to take the name of Anteros upon you, you know not what Charme or Inchantment lyes in the worde: you saw I durst not venter upon any Deuise in our presentment: but was content to be no other then a simple Page. Your Arrowes properties (to keepe decorum) Cupid, are suted (it should seeme) to the nature of him you personate.
K Indignity not to be borne.
B Nay rather an attempt to have been forborne.
K How might I reuenge myself on this insulting Mercury? there is Criticus his Minnion: he has not tasted of this water? it shall be so.
They daunce the 2. straine.
K Is Criticus turn'd Dotard on himself too?
B That followes not, because the venome of your shafts cannot pierce him.
K As though there were one Antidote for these, and another for him?
B As though there were not? or as if one Effect might not arise of diuerse causes? what say you to Cynthia, Arete, Phronesis, TimE, and others there?
K They are diuine.
B And Criticus aspires to be so.
K But that shall not serue him.
B It is like to do prettily well at this time. But Cupid is growne too couetous, that will not spare one of a Multitude.
K One is more then a Multitude.
B Aretes fauour makes any one shot proofe against thee Cupid.
They daunce the 3. straine.
B I pray thee light Hony-Bee, remember thou art not now in Adonis garden, but in Cynthias presence, where thornes lye in garrison about the Roses. Soft Cynthia speakes.
A
Ladyes and gallants,
To give a timely period to our sports,
Let us conclude them, with declining night;
Our Empire is but of the darker halfe:
And if you iudge it any recompence;
For your faire paines, to have earned Dianas thanks;
Diana grants them: and bestowes their crowne
To gratefie your acceptable Zeale.
For you are they, that not (as some have done)
Do censure us, as too seuere, and sower,
But as (more rightly) Gratious to the Good;
Although we not deny, vnto the Proud,
Or the Prophane, perhaps indeed austere:
For so Actæon by presuming farre,
Did (to our griefe) incurre a fatall doome;
And so, swolne Niobe (comparing more
Then he presum'd) was trophæd into stone.
But are we therefore iudged too extreame?
Seemes it no Crime to enter sacred Bowers,
And hallowed Places with impure aspect
Most lewdly to pollute? Seemes it no crime,
To braue a Deity? let Mortalls learne
To make Religion of offending Heauen;
And not at all to censure powers diuine:
To Men, this Argument should stand for firme,
“A Goddesse did it; therefore it was good.
“We are not cruell, nor delight in blood.
But what have serious Repetitions
To do with Reuels, and the sports of Court?
We not intend to sowre your late delights
With harsh expostulation; Let suffice
That we take notice, and can take reuenge
Of these calumnious, and lewd Blasphemies;
For we are no lesse Cynthia, then we were,
Nor is our Power (but as our Self) the same:
Though we have now put on no tyre of shine
But mortall eyes vndazled may endure.
“Yeares, are beneath the Sphears; and Time makes weake,
“Things under Heauen; not Powers which gouerne Heauen:
And though our Self be in ourself, secure,
Yet let not mortalls challenge to themselves
Immunity from thence; Loe this is all:
“Honor hath store of spleene, but wanteth Gall.
Once more, we cast the slumber of our thankes
On your tane toyle, which here let take an end:
And that we not mistake your seuerall worths,
Nor you our Fauour; from your selves remooue,
What makes you not your selves; those clouds of Masque:
“Particular paines, particular thankes do aske.
They Vnmasque.
A
— Are we contemn'd?
Is there so little awe of our Disdeigne,
That any (under trust of their disguise)
Should mixe themselves with others of the Court?
And (without forhead) bouldly presse so farre,
As farther none? How apt is Lenity
To be abus'd? Seuerity to be loath'd?
And yet, how much more doth the seeming Face
Of neighbor Vertues, and their borrowed Names,
Adde of lewd Bouldnesse to loose Vanities?
Who would have thought that Philautia durst,
Or have vsurped noble Storge's name?
Or with that theft have ventred on our eyes?
Who would have thought that all of them should hope,
So much of our conniuence, as to come
To grace themselves, with Titles not their owne?
Insteed of Medicines have we Maladies?
And such Impostumes, as Phantaste is,
Grow in our Pallace? we must lance these sores,
Or all will putrifie: Nor are these all,
For we suspect a farder fraud then this;
Take off our vaile, that shadows may depart,
And shapes appeare, beloued Arete. So.
Another Face of things presents itself
Then did of late: what? Featherd Cupid masqu'd?
And masqu'd like to Anteros? but, more strange!
Deare Mercury our Brother, like a Page,
To countenance the ambush of the Boy?
Nor endeth our discouery as yet;
Gelaia like a Nymph, that but ere while
(In male attire) did serue Anaides?
Cupid came hither to finde sport and Game,
Who, here tofore hath been too conuersant
Among our traine; but neuer felt Reuenge:
And Mercury bare Cupid company:
Cupid, we must confesse this Time of mirth
(Proclaimd by us) gaue Opportunity,
To thy attempts, although no Priuiledge;
Tempt us no farther, we cannot endure
Thy presence longer: Vanish, Hence, Away.
Exit Cupid.
A
You Mercury, we must intreate to stay,
And heare what we determine of the rest;
For in this Plot, you have the deepest hand:
But (for we meane not a Censorian tasque
And yet to lance these vlcers growne so ripe)
Deare Arete, and Criticus, to you
We give the charge; Impose what paines you please:
The incurable cut off, the rest reforme;
Remembring euer what we first decreed,
Since Reuels were proclaimed, Let now none bleede.
M
How well Diana can distinguish Times?
And sort her Censures? keeping to herself
The doome of Gods, leauing the rest to us?
Come, cite them Criticus and then proceede.
D
First Philautia (for she was the first)
Then light Gelaia, in Aglaias name,
Thirdly Phantaste, and Moria next,
Mayne follies all, and of the Female crue;
Amorphus, or Eucosmos counterfet,
Voluptuous Hedon ta'ne for Eupathes,
Brazen Anaides, and Asotus last,
With his two Pages Morus, and Prosaites;
And thou the Trauailers Euill, Cos, appraoch,
Impostors all, and male Deformities.
M
Nay forward, for I delegate my power,
And will, that at thy mercy they do stand
Whom they so oft, so plainely scornd before:
It is vertue which they want, and wanting it,
Honour no garment to their backes can fit.
Now Criticus, vse your Discretion.
D
Adored Cynthia, and bright Arete,
Another might seeme fitter for this tasque
Then Criticus, but that you iudge not so:
For I (not to appeare vindicatiue,
Or mindfull of Contempts, which I contemn'd
As done of Impotence) must be remisse;
Who as I was the Author in some sort,
To worke their knowledge into Cynthias sight,
So should be much seuerer to reuenge
The indignity, hence issuing to her Name:
But there is not one of these, who are vnpaind,
Or by themselves vnpunished; for Vice
Is like a fury to the vitious minde,
And turnes Delight itself to Punishment.
But we must forward to define their Doome;
You are Offenders, that must be confest.
Do you confesse it?
X we do.
D
And that you merit sharpe Correction?
X we do.
D
Then we (reseruing vnto Delias grace,
Her farther pleasure, and to Arete
What Delia graunteth) thus do sentence you.
That from this place (for Penance knowne of all,
Since you have drunke so deeply of Selfe-loue)
You (two and two singing a Palinode,
March to your seuerall homes by Niobes stone,
And offer up two tears a piece thereon;
That it may change the name, as you much change,
And of a stone be called Weeping Crosse:
Because it standeth crosse of Cynthias way,
One of whose names is sacred TRIVIA.
And after penance thus perform'd, you passe
In like set order; not as Midas did
To wash his Golde off into Tagus streame;
But to the Well of Knowledge, Helicon,
Where, purged of your present Maladies,
(Which are nor few, nor slender) you become
Such as you faine would seeme; and then returne
Offring your seruice to great Cynthia.
This is your Sentence; if the Goddesse please
To ratefie it with her high Consent:
The scope of wise Mirth vnto fruit is bent.
A
We do approoue thy Censure Criticus;
Which Mercury, thy true propitious friend,
(A Deity, next Ioue, belou'd of us,)
Will vndertake to see exactly done.
And for this seruice of Discouery
Perform'd by thee, in honor of our name,
We vow to guerdon it with such due grace,
As shall become our Bountie, and thy Place.
Princes that would their People should do well,
Must at themselves begin, as at the heads;
For men by their example patterne out.
Their Imitations, and reguard of Lawes:
A vertuous Court, a world to vertue drawes.
Exeunt, Cynthia, Arete, &c Palinodia.
E >From Spanish shrugs, French faces, Smirks, Irps, and all affected Humors.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
N >From secret friends, sweet Seruants, Loues, Doues, and such Phantastique Humors.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
E >From stabbing of Armes, Flap-dragons, Healths, Whiffes, and all such swaggering Humors.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
N >From wauing of Fannes, coy Glaunces, Glicks, Cringes, and all such simpring Humors.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
E >From making loue by Attourney, courting of Puppets, and paying for new acquaintance.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
N >From perfum'd Dogs, Monkeys, Sparrowes, Dildos, and Parachitos.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
E >From wearing Bracelets of Hayre, Shoo-tyes, Gloues, Garters, and Rings with Poesies.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
N >From Pargetting, Painting, Slicking, Glazing, and Renewing old riueld Faces.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
E >From Squiring to Tilt-yards, Play-Houses, Pageants, and all such Publique places.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
N >From entertaining one Gallant to gull another, and making Fooles of either.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
E >From Belying Ladyes fauors, Noble-mens countenance, coyning counterfet Imployments, vain-glorious taking to them other mens Seruices, and all self-louing Humors.
X Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
CANT.
U
Now each one dry his weeping Eyes,
and to the Well of Knowledge hast;
Where purged of your Maladies,
we may of sweeter waters taste:
And with refined voice report,
The Grace of Cynthia, and her Court.
Epilogus.
U
Gentles, be it knowne to you, since I went in
I am turn'd Rimer; and do thus beginne:
The Author (iealous, how your sence doth take
His trauayles) hath enioyned me to make
Some short, and Ceremonious Epilogue;
But if I yet know what, I am a Rogue:
He ties me to such Lawes, as quite distract
My thoughts; and would a Yeare of time exact.
I neither must be Faint, Remisse, nor Sory,
Sower, Serious, Confident, nor Peremptory:
But betwixt these. Let us see? to lay the blame
upon the Childrens Actions, that were lame.
To craue your Fauours with a begging knee,
Were to distrust the Writers faculty;
To promise better at the next we bring,
Prorogues disgrace, commends not any thing.
Stifly to stand on this, and proudly approoue
The Play, might taxe the Maker of Self-loue.
I will only speake, what I have heard him say;
By God it is good, and if you like it, you may.