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first, as consecrated persons, all in veils, like to copes, of silver tiffany, gathered, and falling a large compass about them, and over their heads high mitres, with long pendants behind falling from them; the mitres were so high, that they received their hats and feathers, that nothing was seen but veil. In the midst between both the tents, upon the very top of the hill, being a higher level than that of the tents, was placed Jupiter's altar gilt, with three great tapers upon golden candlesticks burning upon it; and the four statues, two of gold, and two of silver, as supporters, and Jupiter's priests in white robes about it. Upon the sight of the king, the veils of the knights did fall easily from them, and they appeared in their own habit.

The Knights' attire.-Arming doublets of carnation sattin, embroidered with blazing stars of silver plate, with powderings of smaller stars betwixt; gorgets of silver mail; long hose of the same, with the doublets laid with silver lace spangled, and enriched with embroidery between the lace; carnation silk stockings embroidered all over; garters and roses suitable; pumps of carnation sattin cmbroidered, as the doublets; hats of the same stuff, and embroidery cut like a helmet before, the hinder part cut into scallops, answering the skirts of their doublets; the bands of the hats were wreaths of silver in form of garlands of wild olives, white feathers, with one fall of carnation; belts of the same stuff and embroidered with the doublet; silver swords; little Italian bands and cuffs embroidered with silver; fair long tresses of hair.

The Priests' habits.-Long robes of white taffeta; long white heads of hair; the highpriest a cap of white silk shag close to his head, with two labels at the ears, the midst rising in form of a pyramis, in the top thereof a branch of silver; every priest playing upon a lute; twelve in number.

The Priests descend and sing this song following; after whom the Knights likewise descend, first laying aside their veils, belts, and swords.

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The Knights dance their second measure. [Solo.] More pleasing were these sweet de lights,

If ladies mov'd as well as knights; Run every one of you, and catch A nymph, in honour of this match; And whisper boldly in her ear, Jove will but laugh, if you forswear! [Chorus.] And this day's sins, he doth resolve, That we his priests should all absolve.

The Knights take their ladies to dance with them galliards, durets, corantos, &c. and lead them to their places; then loud musick sounds, supposed to call them to their Olympian games.

Ye should stay longer if we durst:
Away! Alas, that he that first
Gave time wild wings to fly away,
Hath now no power to make him stay!
But tho' these games must needs be play'd,
I would this pair, when they are laid,
And not a creature nigh 'em,
Could catch his scythe as he doth pass,
And cut his wings, and break his glass,

And keep him ever by 'cm.

The Knights dance their parting measure, and ascend, put on their swords and belts; during which time, the Priests sing the fifth and last song.

Peace and silence be the guide
To the man, and to the bride!
If there be a joy yet new
In marriage, let it fall on you,

That all the world may wonder!
If we should stay, we should do worse,
And turn our blessing to a curse,
By keeping you asunder.

THIS Masque is here printed from the quarto edition. All the other copies of it are extremely erroneous and imperfect: none of the descriptive parts are inserted in them; and to point out the blunders and other omissions, would require almost as many notes as the Masque contains lines.

FOUR

FOUR PLAYS,

OR MORAL REPRESENTATIONS,

IN ONE.

This Drama was first printed in the folio edition. No circumstances appear to ascribe it in particular to either Author; it was probably a joint production.

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Enter Frigoso. [Noise within.] Fri. AWAY with those bald-pated rascals

there!

Their wits are bound up in vellum; they are Not current here. Down with those city gentlemen! &c. [their wives

Out with those cuckolds, I say, and in with At the back door! Worship and place, I am weary of ye;

Ye lie on my shoulders like a load of gold
On an ass's back. A man in authority
Is but as a candle in the wind, sooner wasted
Or blown out, than under a bushel.-How
now!

What's the matter? who are you, sir?
Enter Rinaldo.

Rin. Who am I, sir?

Why, do you not know me?

Fri. No, by my faith, do I not.

Rin. I am sure we din'd together to-day.
Fri. That's all one:

[paid As I din'd with you in the city, and as you For my dinner there, I do know you, and am Beholding to you: but as my mind is since Transmigrated into my office, and as you come To court to bave me pay you again, and be Beholding to me, I know you not,

I know you not!

Rin. Nay, but look you, sir!
Fri. Pardon me!

[years,

If you had been my bedfellow these seven And lent me money to buy my place, I must Not transgress principles: this very talking With you is an ill example.

Rin. Pish!

You are too punctual a courtier, sir!
Why, I'm a courtier too; yet never understood
The place or name to be so infectious
To humanity and manners, as to cast
A man into a burning pride and arrogance,
For which there is no cure. I am a courtier,
And yet I will know my friends, I tell you.
Fri. And I tell you,

You will thrive accordingly, I warrant you. Rin. But, bark you, signor Frigoso! you shall first understand,

I have no friends with me to trouble you.
Fri. Humb! that's a good motive.
Rin. Nor to borrow money of you.
Fri. That's an excellent motive.
Kin. No, my sweet don,

Nor to ask what you owe me.

Fri. Why, that

Is the very motive of motives why I ought

And will know thee: and if I had not wound thee

[thee Up to this promise, I would not have known These fifteen years, no more than the arrantcst Or most founder'd Castilian that Follow'd our new queen's carriages a-foot.

Rin. Nor for any thing, dear don, but that you would [night. Place me conveniently to see the play toFri. That shall I, signor Rinaldo. But would you had come sooner: you see How full the scaffolds are! there is scant room For a lover's thought here.-Gentlewomen, Sit close, for shame! Has none of ye A little corner for this gentleman ?

I'll place you, fear not. And how did our brave king

Of Portugal, Emanuel, bear himself to-day? You saw the solemnity of the marriage.

Rin. Why, like a fit husband for so gracious And excellent a princess, as his worthy Mate Isabella, the king of Castile's daughter, Doth, in her very external lineaments, Mixture of colours, and joining dove-like be haviour,

Assure herself to be. And I protest,
My dear don, seriously, I can sing
Prophetically nothing but blessed hymns,
And happy occasions to this sacred union
Of Portugal and Castile, which have so wisely
And mutually conjoined two such virtuous
And beautiful princes as these are; and in
all opinion,

Like to multiply to their very last minute.

Fri. The king is entering: signor, hover hereabout;

And as soon as the train is set, clap into me; We'll stand near the state. If you have Any creditors here, they shall renew [touch Bonds a twelvemonth on such a sight: butto The pomel of the king's chair, in the sight Of a citizen, is better security

For a thousand double-ducats, than three Of the best merchants in Lisbon. Besides, signor, [play here, We will censure, not only the king in the That reigns his two hours, but the king himseit, That is to rule his life-time. Take my counsel!

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I have one word to say to this noble assem And I am for you.

Rin. Your method shall govern me. Fri. Prologues are huishers bare before the wise';

Why may not then a huisher prologuise?

1 Prologues are bad huishers before the wise.] If prologues are bad huishers, how does the consequence follow, that therefore an huisher or usher should prologuise? I believe bad a corruption, and that we should read but, which renders the whole easy and intelligible.

Seward.

The present text is from the first edition. Bare seems used in the sense of but, or mere, It is also sense, in the acception of uncovered, in this place.

Here's

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But you, nor hold a story, but your own; A water fix'd, that ebbs nor floods pursue, Frozen to all, only dissolv'd to you!

Eman. Oh, who shall tell the sweetness of
our love

To future times, and not be thought to lie?
I look thro' this hour like a perspective,
And far off see millions of prosperous seeds,
That our reciprocal affection breeds.
Thus, my white rib, close in my breast with me,
Which nought shall tear hence, but mortality!
Lords. Be kingdoms blest in you, you blest
in them!
[Flourish.

Fri. Whist! signor! My strong imagination Shews me love, methinks, bathing in milk And wine in her cheeks. Oh, how she clips him, Like a plant of ivy!

Rin. Ay; could not you be content To be an owl in such an ivy-bush, Or one of the oaks of the city, to be so clipt? Fri. Equivocal don, tho' I like the clipping well,

I could not be content either to be your owl, Or your ox of the city.-The play begins.

[Flourish.

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Poet Prologue. Low at your sacred feet our poor muse lays

Her, and her thunder-fearless verdant bays. Four several Triumphs to your princely eyes, Of Honour, Love, Death, and Time, do rise From our approaching subject; which we move Tow'rds you with fear, since that a sweeter A brighter honour, purer chastity, [love, March in your breasts this day triumphantly, Than our weak scenes can shew: then how dare we

Present, like apes and zanies, things that be Exemplified in you, but that we know

We ne'er crav'd grace which you did not bestow?

Enter in triumph with Drums, Trumpets,
Colours, Martius, Valerius, Sophocles
bound, Nicodemus, Cornelius, Captains and
Soldiers.

Mar. What means proud Sophocles?
Soph. To go even with Martius,
And not to follow him like his officer:
I never waited yet on any man.

Mar. Why, poor Athenian duke, thou
art my slave;

My blows have conquer'd thee.

Soph. Thy slave, proud Martius? Cato thy countryman (whose constancy, Of all the Romans, I did honour most) Ripp'd himself twice to avoid slavery, Making himself his own anatomy. But look thee, Martius; not a vein runs here From head to foot, but Sophocles would unseam, and

Like a spring-garden 3 shoot his scornful blood
Into their eyes, durst come to tread on him.
As for thy blows, they did not conquer me:
Seven battles have I met thee face to face,
And given thee blow for blow, and wound
for wound,
[tire:

And, 'till thou taught'st me4, knew not to re-
Thy sword was then as bold, thy arm as strong;
Thy blows then, Martius, cannot conquer me.
Val. What is it then?
Soph. Fortune.

Val. Why, yet in that

Thou art the worse man, and must follow him. Soph. Young sir, you err: if fortune could be call'd

Or his, or yours, or mine, in good or evil,
For any certain space, thou hadst spoke truth;
But she but jests with man, and in mischance
Abhors all constancy, flouting him still
With some small touch of good, or seeming
good,

Midst of his mischief; which vicissitude

3 And like a spring garden.] Spring-GARDEN appears to be corrupt. Perhaps the line should run,

And like a spring GUN shoot, &c.

Thou taught'st me.] The context seems to require FATE taught me, or words to that

effect.

VOL. III.

4 E

Makes

Makes him strait doff his armour, and his fence

He had prepar'd before, to break her strokes.
So from the very zenith of her wheel,
When she has dandled some choice favourite,
Giv'n him his boons in women, honour,
wealth,

And all the various delicacies of earth,

That the fool scorns the gods in his excess,
She whirls, and leaves him at th' Antipodes.

Mar. Art sure we have taken him? is this
Sophocles?

His fetter'd arms say no; his free soul, ay.
This Athens nurseth arts, as well as arms.

Soph. Nor glory, Martius, in this day of
thine!

'Tis behind yesterday, but before to-morrow; Who knows what fortune then will do with thee?

She never yet could make the better man, The better chance she has: the man that's best

She still contends with, and doth favour least. Mar. Methinks, a graver thunder than the skies

Breaks from his lips: I am amaz'd to hear; And Athens' words, more than her swords do fear.

Slave Sophocles

[Aside.

Soph. Martius, couldst thou acquire And did thy Roman gods so love thy prayers And solemn sacrifice, to grant thy suit To gather all the valour of the Cæsars Thy predecessors, and what is to come, And by their influence fling it on thee now, Thou couldst not make my mind go less, not pare

With all their swords one virtue from my soul:
How am I vassal'd then? make such thy slaves,
As dare not keep their goodness past their
graves.

Know, general, we two are chances on
The die of Fate; now thrown, thy six is up,
And my poor one beneath thee; next, the
throw

May set me upmost, and cast thee below.
Mar. Yet will I try thee more: calamity

[Aside.

Is man's true touchstone.-Listen, insolent prince,

That dar'st contemn the master of thy life,

Which I will force here 'fore thy city-walls
With barbarous cruelty, and call thy wife
To see it, and then after send her-
Soph. Ha, ha, ha!

{ground,
Mar. And then demolish Athens to the
Depopulate her, fright away her fame,
And leave succession neither stone nor name.
Soph. Ha, ha, ha!

Mar. Dost thou deride me?
Val. Kneel! ask Martius

For mercy, Sophocles, and live happy still! Soph. Kneel, and ask mercy? Roman, art a god?

I never kneel'd, or begg'd, of any else.
Thou art a fool! and I will lose no more
Instructions on thee, now I find thy ears
[Solemn musick,

Enter Dorigen, Ladies bearing a Sword. Are foolish, like thy tongue.-My Dorig en Oh, must she see me bound?

1 Capt. There's the first sigh He breath'd since he was born, I think, 2 Capt. Forbear,

All but the lady his wife!

Soph. How my heart chides

The manacles of my hands, that let them not Embrace my Dorigen!

Val. Turn but thy face,

And ask thy life of Martius thus, and thou, With thy fair wife, shalt live; Athens shall stand,

And all her privileges augmented be.

Soph. "Twere better Athens perish'd, and
my wife

(Which, Romans, I do know a worthy one),
Than Sophocles should shrink of Sophocles,
Commit profane idolatry, by giving [man!
The reverence due to gods to thee, blown
Mar. Rough, stubborn cynick!
Soph. Thou art rougher far,
And of a coarser wale, fuller of pride,
Less temperate to bear prosperity.
Thou seest my mere neglect hath rais'd in
A storm more boistrous than the ocean's;
My virtue, patience, makes thee vicious.

fthee

Mar. Why, fair-ey'd lady, do you kneel? Dor. Great general, [maid Victorious, godlike Martius, your poor handKneels, for her husband will not, cannot; speaks

5 Soph. Martius, slave Sophocles, couldst thou acquire.] A transposition here has rendered this absolute darkness. Martius being struck with admiration at Sophocles's intrepidity, is resolved to put it to a farther trial by scoffs and insults; he therefore begins with calling him slave, as the answer evidently shews. There is therefore scarce a doubt of the true reading being as the text is now reformed, making the first part of the speech spoke aside, and then,

Slave Sophocles.

Soph. Martius, couldst thou acquire, &c.

But there is, I believe, a great corruption still remaining in the word acquire, to acquire to gather, is bad English; besides as the sentence stands, the acquisition precedes the prayers. Tis therefore most probable that the true word is aspire, which seems clear of all objections. Seward.

Acquire is, in our opinion, preferable.

Thus

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