A Crown, a crown for Love's bright head,
Without whose happy wit
All form and beauty had been dead,
And we had died with it.

For what are all the graces
Without good forms, and faces?

Then, Love, receive the due reward
Those Graces have prepar'd.

Cho. And may no hand, no tongue, no eye
Thy merit, or their thanks envỳ.

CHORUS and GRACES.

Cho. What gentle forms are these that move,
To honour Love?

Gra. They are the bright and golden lights
That grace his nights.

Cho. And shot from beauty's eyes,

They look like fair AURORA's streams. Gra. They are her fairer daughters' beams, Who now doth rise,

Cho. Then night is lost, or fled away;

For where such beauty shines, is ever day.

The Masque Dance followed.

Which done, one of the Priests alone sung.

I Priest. O what a fault, nay, what a sin
In fate, or fortune had it been,

So much beauty to have lost!

Could the world with all her cost
Have redeem'd it?

Cho. It would nature quite undo,

For losing these, you lost her too.

The Measures and Revels follow.

2 Priest. How near to good is what is fair!
Which we no sooner see,

But with the lines, and outward air
Our senses taken be.

We wish to see it still, and prove,
What ways we may deserve;

We court, we praise, we more than love:
We are not griev'd to serve.

The last Masque-Dance.

And after it, this full

SONG.

What just excuse had aged Time,

His weary limbs now to have eased,

And sate him down without his crime,

While every thought was so much pleased!

But he so greedy to devour

His own, and all that he brings forth,

Is eating every piece of hour

Some object of the rarest worth.

Yet this is rescued from his rage,

As not to die by time, or age:

For beauty hath a living name,

And will to heaven, from whence it came.

Grand Chorus at going out.

Now, now, gentle Love is free, and Beauty blest With the sight it so much long'd to see.

Let us the Muses' priests, and Graces go to rest,
For in them our labours happy be.

Then, then, *** music sound, and teach our feet, How to move in time, and measure meet: Thus should the Muses' priests, and Graces go to rest Bowing to the sun, throned in the west.

Then, then, angry music sound.] This epithet is not very commonly applied to music: the poet seems to have used it instead of loud. WHAL.

It is unquestionably a misprint, (which I am unable to set right,) and is one of the very few errors in this excellent old copy.

LOVE RESTORED.] From the folio, 1616.

This is a sprightly little piece, and Robin Goodfellow's account of the petty tricks used by the inferior orders to procure a sight of these exhibitions, and the conduct of the menial officers of the court, is as interesting as it is amusing, from its being a lively picture of real occurrences. We learn from many of our old dramas, that considerable bustle and confusion took place at Whitehall, whenever a Masque was presented, and that previously to the entrance of the court, the doors were in a manner besieged by crowds of citizens and others clamorously advancing their respective pretensions to the honour of admission. It is said by the Puritans, and probably with some approach to truth, that the galleries were used, on these occasions, as places of assignation, and that the citizens' wives were invited to the Masques, &c., by the younger courtiers for the purposes of gallantry. "There is not a lobby nor chamber, if it could speak, (says sir Edward Peyton,) but would verify this." This was, however, after the queen's death, and when the decorum of the court was less strictly maintained.