I call'd these youths forth in their blood, and prime, Out of the honour that I bore their parts, By labour, riding, and those ancient arts, Who were of hunters first, of men the best ; groves, Themselves there sporting with their nobler loves. Dia. And so may these do, if the time give leave. Sat. Chaste Dian's purpose we do now conceive, And yield thereto. Ven. And so doth Love. Vot. All votes do in one circle move. Grand Cho. Turn hunters then, Again. Hunting, it is the noblest exercise, Makes men laborious, active, wise, The memory, good horsemanship, Turn hunters then, Again, But not of men. And just example, That hates all chase of malice, and of blood: And studies only ways of good, To keep soft peace in breath. Man should not hunt mankind to death, Kill vices if you can: They are your wildest beasts, And when they thickest fall, you make the gods true feasts. NEPTUNE'S TRIUMPH FOR THE RETURN OF ALBION. CELEBRATED IN A MASQUE AT THE COURT ON THE TWELFTH-NIGHT, 1624. Omnis et ad reducem jam litat ara Deum.-MART. NEPTUNE'S TRIUMPH, &C.] Charles (i. e. Albion) returned from his ill-fated expedition to Spain on the fifth of October, in the preceding year (1623). Before this Masque appeared, the Spanish match was completely broken off, and James, who had long set his heart upon it, and for several years honestly and sedulously laboured to effect it, wearied out at length by the interminable juggling of the court of Spain, was, by this time, reconciled to the disappointment. Neptune's Triumph appears to have been celebrated with uncommon magnificence. All hearts and hands were in it; and the Spanish influence then received a check, from which it has not recovered to this day. NEPTUNE'S TRIUMPH, ETC. His Majesty being set, and the loud music ceasing. All that is discovered of a scene, are two erected pillars, dedicated to Neptune, with this inscription upon the one, NEP. RED. On the other. SEC. Jov. The Poet entering on the stage, to disperse the argument, is called to by the Master-Cook. Cook. O you hear, you creature of diligence and business? what is the affair, that you pluck for so, under your cloke? Poet. Nothing, but what I colour for, I assure you; and may encounter with, I hope, if luck favour me, the gamesters' goddess. Cook. You are a votary of hers, it seems, by your language. What went you upon, may a man ask you? Poet. Certainties, indeed, sir, and very good ones; the representation of a masque; you'll see't anon. Cook. Sir, this is my room, and region too, the Banquetting-house. And in matter of feast, the solemnity, nothing is to be presented here, but with my acquaintance and allowance to it. |