Love. A rolling eye, that native there,

Yet throws her glances every where;
And, being but single, fain would do
The offices, and arts of two.

Sphynx. And in the powers thereof are mix'd
Two contraries.

Love. That's smiles and tears,

Or fire and frost; for either bears
Resemblance apt.

Sphynx. Which time, till now,

Nor fate knew where to join, or how.-
How now, Cupid! at a stay?
Not another word, to say?

Do you find by this, how long
You have been at fault, and wrong?
Love. Sphynx, it is your pride to vex
Whom you deal with, and perplex
Things most easy: Ignorance
Thinks she doth herself advance;
If of problems clear, she make
Riddles, and the sense forsake,
Which came gentle from the Muses,
Till her uttering, it abuses.

Sphynx. Nay, your railing will not save you,
Cupid, I of right must have you.
Come my fruitful issue forth,

Dance, and shew a gladness, worth
Such a captive, as is Love,

And your mother's triumph prove.

Here the FOLLIES, which were twelve SHE-FOOLS, enter

and dance.

Sphynx. Now, go take him up, and bear him

To the cliff, where I will tear him

ert:

This shews, that Love's expositions are not always serious, till it be divinely instructed; and that sometimes it may be in the

Piece-meal, and give each a part
Of his raw and bleeding heart.
Love. Ladies, have your looks no power
To help Love at such an hour?
Will you lose him thus? Adieu!
Think, what will become of you.
Who shall praise you, who admire?
Who shall whisper by the fire

As you stand, soft tales? who bring you
Pretty news, in rhymes who sing you?
Who shall bathe him in the streams
Of your blood, and send you dreams
Of delight?

Sphynx. Away, go bear him

Hence, they shall no longer hear him.

Here the Muses priests, in number twelve, advance
to his rescue, and sing this SONG to a measure.2
Gentle Love, be not dismay'd.
See the Muses pure, and holy,

By their priests have sent thee aid
Against this brood of Folly.
It is true, that Sphynx their dame
Had the sense first from the Muses
Which in uttering she doth lame,
Perplexeth, and abuses.

But they bid that thou should'st look
In the brightest face here shining,
And the same, as would a book,
Shall help thee in divining.

danger of ignorance and folly, who are the mother and issue: for no folly but is born of ignorance.

2 To a measure,] i. e. to a grave and stately dance.

Here is understood the power of Wisdom in the Muses ministers; by which name all that have the spirit of prophecy, are styled, and such they are that need to encounter Ignorance and Folly: and are ever ready to assist Love in any action of honour and virtue, and inspire him with their own soul.

Love. 'Tis done! 'tis done! I've found it out—
Britain's the world the world without.
The king's the eye, as we do call
The sun the eye of this great all.
And is the light and treasure too;
For 'tis his wisdom all doth do.
Which still is fixed in his breast,
Yet still doth move to guide the rest.
The contraries which time till now
Nor fate knew where to join, or how,
Are Majesty and Love; which there,
And no where else, have their true sphere.
Now, Sphynx, I've hit the right upon,
And do resolve these all by one:
That is, that you meant ALBION.

Priests. 'Tis true in him, and in no other,
Love, thou art clear absolved.
Vanish, Follies, with your mother,
The riddle is resolved.

Sphynx must fly, when Phoebus shines,

And to aid of Love inclines.

[Sphynx retires with the Follies

Love. Appear then, you my brighter charge,
And to light yourselves enlarge,

To behold that glorious star,
For whose love you came so far,
While the monster with her elves,

Do precipitate themselves.

Here the Graces enter, and sing this SONG, crowning CUPID.

3 Nor fate knew where to join, or how,

Are Majesty and Love.] The thought taken from Ovid :

Non bene conveniunt, nec in una sede morantur

Majestas, et Amor.

WHAL.

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 envy.

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.