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But in the practised truth, destruction is
Of any art beside what he calls his.
Whither, O whither will this tireman grow?
His name is Σκηνοποιος, we all know,
The maker of the properties; in sum,

On the new priming of thy old sign-posts,
Reviving with fresh colours the pale ghosts
Of thy dead standards; or with marvel see
Thy twice conceived, thrice paid for ima
gery;

The scene, the engine; but he now is And not fall down before it, and confess

come

To be the music-master; tabler too;

He is, or would be, the main Dominus Do-
All of the work, and so shall still for Ben,
Be Inigo, the whistle and his men.
He's warm on his feet, now he says; and

can

Swim without cork: why, thank the good Queen Anne.2

I am too fat to envy, he too lean

To be worth envy; henceforth I do mean
To pity him, as smiling at his feat
Of lantern-lerry, with fuliginous heat
Whirling his whimsies, by a subtilty
Sucked from the veins of shop-philosophy.
What would he do now, giving his mind
that way,

In presentation of some puppet-play, Should but the king his justice-hood employ,

In setting forth of such a solemn toy?
How would he firk, like Adam Overdo,3
Up and about; dive into cellars too,
Disguised, and thence drag forth Enormity,
Discover Vice, commit Absurdity:
Un ler the moral, shew he had a pate
Moulded or stroked up to survey a state!
O wise surveyor, wiser architect,
But wisest Inigo; who can reflect

Almighty Architecture, who no less
A goddess is than painted cloth, deal board,
Vermilion, lake, or crimson can afford
Expression for; with that unbounded line
Aimed at in thy omnipotent design!
What poesy e'er was painted on a wall,
That might compare with thee? what story
shall,

Of all the worthies, hope t' outlast thy own,
So the materials be of Purbeck stone?
Live long the Feasting-Room! and ere thou
burn4

Again, thy architect to ashes turn;
Whom not ten fires, nor a parliament, can
With all remonstrance, make an honest
man.5

TO A FRIEND.

An Epigram of Inigo Jones.

Sir Inigo doth fear it, as I hear,"
And labours to seem worthy of this fear,
That I should write upon him some sharp

verse,

Able to eat into his bones, and pierce
The marrow. Wretch! I quit thee of thy
pain,

Thou'rt too ambitious, and dost fear in vain :
The Libyan lion hunts no butterflies;
He makes the camel and dull ass his prize.

1 He is, or would be, the main Dominus Do- [The Feasting-Room at Whitehall was burnt All of the work.] This is no forced descrip-down on the 12th January, 1619, making way for tion of Inigo's manner. In the Declaration of the erection of Inigo's noble Banqueting House. the Commons, already noticed, in behalf of the -F. C.] parishioners of St. Gregory, they complain that "the said Inigo Jones would not undertake the work (of re-edifying the church) unless he might be, as he termed it, sole monarch, or might have the principality thereof," &c. What follows is still more offensive.

Why, thank the good Queen Anne.] Consort to James I., who appointed Inigo Jones her architect.-WHAL.

How would he firk, like Adam Overdo, Up and about, &c.] This line is of some importance, inasmuch as it quite destroys the established opinion that Lantern Leatherhead was meant for Inigo Jones. "Old Ben," as Mr. Malone truly observes, "generally spoke out,' and he was here sufficiently angry to identify him with that character, to which not only his allusion to Bartholomew Fair, but his mention of a puppet play, directly led and we may confidently assure ourselves that he would have done it, had what he is so often charged with been ever in his contemplation.

5 Whom not ten fires, nor a parliament, can With all remonstrance, make an honest man.] Jones, by some arbitrary proceedings, had subjected himself to the censures of parliament; and this seems to refer to the affair between him and the parishioners of St. Gregory in London. In order to execute his design of repairing St. Paul's cathedral, he demolished part of the church of St. Gregory adjoining to it; upon which the parishioners presented a Remonstrance to the parliament against him: but that affair did not come to an issue till some time after the writing of this satire.-WHAL.

The question is, when it began. The Remonstrance was not even presented to parlia ment till three years after Jonson's death, and could scarcely have been in contemplation at the date of this satire, 1635. There are many difficulties in the way of those who make Jonson the author of the whole of this piece.

6 Sir Inigo doth fear it, &c.] This is undoubtedly Jonson's, and this seems to shew that

If thou be so desirous to be read, Seek out some hungry painter, that, for bread,

With rotten chalk or coal, upon the wall Will well design thee to be viewed of all That sit upon the common draught or strand;

Thy forehead is too narrow for my brand.

TO INIGO MARQUIS WOULD-BE.

A Corollary.

But 'cause thou hear'st the mighty king of Spain

Hath made his Inigo marquis, wouldst thou fain

Our Charles should make thee such? 'twill not become

All kings to do the self-same deeds with

some:

Besides, his man may merit it, and be
A noble honest soul: what's this to thee?

nothing had been hitherto written against Jones. The learned writers of the Biographia Britannica, in their zeal to criminate Jonson, strangely mistake the sense of the ninth line,

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"If thou art so desirous to be read,"

'which," they say, "alludes to some attempt of the architect in the poetical way," whereas it merely means, if you are so desirous to be noticed, hope not for it from me; but, &c.

Thou paint a lane, &c.] i.e. just wide enough to allow of the meeting of Tom Thumb and Jeffrey Hudson.

Content thee to be Pancridge earl the while.] i.e. one of the "Worthies" who annually rode to Mile End or the Artillery Ground in the ridiculous procession called Arthur's Shew. There can be no doubt, however, that Inigo Jones really aspired to the elevation mentioned

He may have skill and judgment to design
Cities and temples, thou a cave for wine
Or ale; he build a palace, thou the shop,
With sliding windows, and false lights a-top:
He draw a forum with quadrivial streets;
Thou paint a lane where Tom Thumb
Jeffrey meets.1

He some Colossus, to bestride the seas
From the famed pillars of old Hercules:
Thy canvas giant at some channel aims,
Or Dowgate torrents falling into Thames;
And straddling shews the boys' brown paper
fleet

Yearly set out there, to sail down the street : Your works thus differing, much less so your style,

Content thee to be Pancridge earl the while," An earl of show; for all thy worth is show: But when thou turn'st a real Inigo,

Or canst of truth the least entrenchment pitch,

We'll have thee styled the Marquis of Tower-ditch.

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Love's Welcome.

THE KING'S ENTERTAINMENT AT WELBECK, IN

NOTTINGHAMSHIRE,

A House of the Right Honourable WILLIAM, Earl of Newcastle, Viscount Mansfield, Baron of Botle and Bolsover, &c.

At his going into Scotland, 1633.

LOVE'S WELCOME (or, as it is called in the folio, The KING'S ENTERTAINMENT, &c.)] In the spring of 1633, Charles, in an interval of tranquillity, resolved to make a progress into the northern part of his kingdom, and to be solemnly crowned in Scotland, which he had not seen since he was two years old. His journey was a perpetual triumph, the great families of the counties through which he passed feasting him on his way. None of the nobility and gentry, however, seem to have equalled the Earl of Newcastle in the magnificence of their hospitality. "When he passed (says Lord Clarendon) through Nottinghamshire, both the King and Court were received and entertained by the Earl of Newcastle, and at his own proper expense, in such a wonderful manner and in such an excess of feasting, as had scarce ever before been known in England; and would be still thought very prodigious, if the same noble person had not, within a year or two afterwards, made the King and Queen a more stupendous Entertainment; which, God be thanked, though possibly it might too much whet the appetite of others to excess, no man ever after imitated."-Hist. of the Rebellion. The Duchess, in the Life of the Duke of Newcastle, speaks of it modestly enough. "When his Majesty (her Grace says) was going into Scotland to be crowned, he took his way through Nottinghamshire; and lying at Worksep Manor, hardly two miles distant from Welbeck where my lord then was, my lord invited his Majesty thither to dinner, which he was graciously pleased to accept of. This entertainment cost my lord between four and five thousand pounds."-p. 183.

On this occasion our poet was called on to prepare one of those little compliments, which, in those days, were supposed to grace, and, as it were, vivify the feast. The object was merely to introduce, in a kind of Antimasque, a course at Quintain, performed by the gentlemen of the county, neighbours to this great earl, in the guise of rustics, in which much awkwardness was affected, and much real dexterity probably shewn. Whatever it was, however, it afforded considerable amusement to the King and his attendants; a fact recorded by the Duchess with no little complacency in the memoirs of her family.

This Entertainment, with that which immediately follows it, is shuffled in among the translations, towards the close of the folio, 1641. It is evidently given in a very imperfect manner but there is no other copy.

His Majesty being set at Dinner,

Music:

The Passions, DOUBT and LOVE, enter with the Affections, JOY, Delight, &c., and sing this

SONG.

Doubt. What softer sounds are these salute the ear,

From the large circle of the hemisphere,
As if the centre of all sweets met here!
Love. It is the breath and soul of
thing,

every

Put forth by earth, by nature, and the spring, To speak the Welcome, Welcome of the King.

Chorus of Affections. The joy of plants, the spirit of flow'rs,

The smell and verdure of the bowers,
The water's murmur, with the showers
Distilling on the new fresh hours;
The whistling winds and birds that sing
The Welcome of our great, good King:
Welcome, O welcome, is the general voice,
Wherein all creatures practise to rejoice.

[A pause. Music again. Love. When was old Sherwood's head more quaintly curled?

Or looked the earth more green upon the world?

Or nature's cradle more enchased and purled?

When did the air so smile, the winds so

chime,

As quiristers of season, and the prime? Doubt. If what they do be done in their

due time.

Cho. of Affections. He makes the time for whom 'tis done,

From whom the warmth, heat, life begun;

Into whose fostering arms do run All that have being from the sun. Such is the fount of light, the King, The heart that quickens everything, And makes the creatures' language all one voice,

In welcome, welcome, welcome to rejoice: Welcome is all our song, is all our sound, The treble part, the tenor, and the ground 2 The King and the Lords being come down

After Dinner.

1 By his thewes he may.] i.e. by his manners, accomplishments. Shakspeare, in Henry IV, "Care I for the thewes," &c., seems to use it in the sense of sinews, which, after all, may be the genuine word.

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With his hat, hatband, stockings, and sandals suited, and marked A, B, C, &c. The other in a taberd, or herald's coat of azure and gules quarterly changed, of buckram; limned with yellow instead of gold, and pasted over with old records of the two shires and certain fragments of the Forest, as a coat of antiquity and precedent, willing to be seen, but hard to be read, and as loth to be understood without the interpreter who wore it: for the wrong ends of the letters were turned upward, therefore was a label fixed, To the curious prier, advertising:

Look not so near, with hope to understand,

Out-cept, sir, you can read with the lefthand.

Acci. By your fair leave, gentlemen of court; for leave is ever fair, being asked; and granted, is as light, according to our English proverb, Leave is light. Which is the King, I pray you?

Fitz. Or rather the King's lieutenant? for we have nothing to say to the King, till we have spoken with my lord lieutenant. Acci. Of Nottinghamshire.

Fitz. And Darbyshire, for he is both. And we have business to both sides of him from either of the counties.

Acci. As far as his command stretches. Fitz. Is this he?

Acci. This is no great man by his timber, as we say in the Forest; by his thewes he three at him, to see how he is declined.-may. I'll venture a part of speech two or My lord, pleaseth your good lordship, I am a poor neighbour here of your honour's, in the county.

[Spenser uses it as Jonson does:

And straight delivered to a fairy knight To be upbrought in gentle thews and martial might."-F. C.]

Fitz. Master A. B. C. Accidence, my good lord, school-master of Mansfield, the painful instructor of our youth in their country elements, as appeareth by the sign of correction in his hat, with the trust of the town-pen-and-inkhorn committed to the suretie of his girdle from the whole corporation.

Acci. This is the more remarkable man, my very good lord; father Fitz-Ale, herald of Darby, light and lanthorn of both counties; the learned antiquary of the north; conserver of the records of either Forest, as witnesseth the brief taberd or coat-armour he carries, being an industrious collection of all the written or reported Wonders of the Peak.

Saint Anne of Buxton's boiling well,
Or Elden, bottomless, like hell:

Poole's Hole, or Satan's sumptuous Arse.
(Surreverence) with the mine-men's farce.
Such a light and metalled dance
Saw you never yet in France.
And by lead-men for the nones,
That turn round like grindlestones;
Which they dig out fro' the dells,

For their bairns' bread, wives, and sel's:
Whom the whetstone sharps to eat,
And cry milstones are good meat.
He can fly o'er hills and dales,
And report you more odd tales
Of our outlaw Robin Hood,
That revelled here in Sherewood,
And more stories of him show,
(Though he ne'er shot in his bow)
Than au'men or believe or know.
Fitz. Stint, stint your court,

Grow to be short,
Throw by your clatter,
And handle the matter;
We come with our peers,
And crave your ears,
To present a wedding,
Intended a bedding

Of both the shires.
Father Fitz-Ale
Hath a daughter stale
In Darby town,
Known up and down

For a great antiquity;
And Pem she hight,
A solemn wight
As you should meet

Red-hood, the first that doth appear In stamel.] i.e. a kind of red, inferior both in quality and price to scarlet. Thus Fletcher: "To see a handsome, young, fair enough, and well-mounted wench

In any street,

In that ubiquity.
Her he hath brought,
As having sought
By many a draught
Of ale and craft,
With skill to graft
In some old stock
O' the yeoman block,
And Forest-blood
Of old Sherewood.
And he hath found
Within the ground,
At last no shrimp,
Whereon to imp
His jolly club,
But a bold Stub
O' the right wood,
A champion good;
Who here in place
Presents himself,
Like doughty elf

Of Greenwood chase.

Here STUB the bridegroom presented himself, being apparelled in a yellow canvas doublet, cut, a green jerkin and hose, like a ranger; a Monmouth cap with a yellow feather, yellow stockings and shoes; for being to dance, he would not trouble himself with boots.

Fitz. Stub of Stub-hall,

Some do him call;
But most do say,
He's Stub will stay
To run his race,
Not run away.

Acci. At Quintain he,

In honour of this bridaltee,
Hath challenged either wide countee;
Come Cut and Long-tail: for there be
Six bachelors as bold as he,

Adjuting to his companee,

And each one hath his livery.

Fitz. Six Hoods they are, and of the

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