Here the TILTING took place.

After which,

2 Cup. Now, sir, you have got mightily by this contention, and advanced your cause to a most high degree of estimation with these spectators! have you not?

1 Cup. Why, what have you done, or won?

2 Cup. It is enough for me who was called out to this trial, that I have not lost, or that my side is not vanquished.

Enter HYMEN.

Hy. Come, you must yield both; this is neither contention for you, nor time fit to contend: there is another kind of tilting would become Love better than this; to meet lips for lances; and crack kisses instead of staves: which there is no beauty here, I presume, so young, but can fancy, nor so tender, but would venture. Here is the palm for which you must strive which of you wins this bough, is the right and best Cupid; and whilst you are striving, let Hymen, the president of these solemnities, tell you something of your own story, and what yet you know not of yourselves. You are both true Cupids, and both the sons of Venus by Mars, but this the first born, and was called Eros; who upon his birth proved a child of excellent beauty, and right worthy his mother; but after his growth not answering his form, not only Venus, but the Graces, who nursed him, became extremely solicitous for him; and were impelled out of their grief and care, to consult the oracle about him. Themis (for Apollo was not yet of years) gave answer, there wanted nothing to his perfection, but that they had not enough considered, or looked into the nature of the infant, which indeed

was desirous of a companion only; for though Love,
and the true, might be born of Venus single and
alone, yet he could not thrive and encrease alone.
Therefore if she affected his growth, Venus must
bring forth a brother to him, and name him Anteros;
that with reciprocal affection, might pay the exchange
of Love. This made that thou wert born her second
birth. Since when, your natures are, that either of
you, looking upon other, thrive, and by your mutual
respects and interchange of ardour, flourish and
prosper; whereas if the one be deficient or wanting
to the other, it fares worse with both. This is the
Love that Hymen requires, without which no mar-
riage is happy: when the contention is not, who is
the true Love, but, being both true, who loves most;
cleaving the bough between you, and dividing the
palm. This is a strife wherein you both win, and
begets a concord worthy all married minds' emulation,
when the lover transforms himself into the person of
his beloved, as you two do now; by whose example,
let your knights (all honourable friends and servants
of Love) affect the like peace, and depart the lists
equal in their friendships for ever, as to-day they
have been in their fortunes. And may this royal
court never know more difference in humours; or
these well-graced nuptials more discord in affections,
than what they presently feel, and may ever avoid!
1 2 Cup. To this Love says, Amen.

THE IRISH MASQUE AT COURT,

BY GENTLEMEN, THE KING'S SERVANTS.

THE IRISH MASQUE.] From the folio, 1616. It has no date. James had great merit in the whole of his conduct with respect to Ireland, which he governed with extraordinary care, and reduced from the state of distraction in which the late Queen had left it, to a degree of tranquillity which it has not often experienced. This little piece is meant to compliment the country on its loyalty and attachment.

THE IRISH MASQUE.

The King being set in expectation, out ran a fellow attired like a citizen: after him, three or four footmen, DENNISE, DONNELL, DERMOCK, and PATRICK.

PATRICK.

OR chreeshes sayk, phair ish te king? phich ish he, ant be? show me te shweet faish, quickly. By got, o' my conshence, tish ish he! ant tou be king Yamish, me name is Dennish, I sherve ti majesties owne cashtermonger, be me trote; and cry peepsh, and pomwatersh in ti mayesties shervice, 'tis five year now. Ant tou vilt not trush me now, call up ti clarke o' ti kitchen, be ant be, shall give hish wort, upon hish book, ish true.

Don. Ish it te fashion, to beate te imbasheters, here, and knocke 'hem o'te heads phit te phoit stick?

Der. Ant make ter meshage run out a ter mouthsh, before tey shpeake vit te king?

Den. Peash Dermock, here ish te king.
Der. Phair ish te king?

Don. Phich ish te king?

Den. Tat ish te king.

Der. Ish tat te king? Got blesh him!

Den. Peash, and take heet, vat tou shaysht, man. Der. Creesh blesh him, I shay. Phat reason I tayk heet, for tat?

Don. Creesh blesh ti shweet faish, king Yamish ;