And with them beats back Error, clad in mists.
Eternal Unity behind her shines,
That fire and water, earth and air combines.
Her voice is like a trumpet loud and shrill,
Which bids all sounds in earth and heaven be
still.

And see! descended from her chariot now,
In this related pomp she visits you.

Enter TRUTH.

Truth. Honor to all that honor nuptials, To whose fair lot, in justice, now it falls, That this my counterfeit be here disclosed, Who, for virginity, hath herself opposed. Nor though my brightness do undo her charms, Let these her knights think, that their equal

arms

Are wrong'd therein: For valor wins applause,
That dares but to maintain the weaker cause.
And princes, see, 'tis mere Opinion

That in Truth's forced robe, for Truth hath gone!
Her gaudy colors, pieced with many folds,
Shew what uncertainties she ever holds :
Vanish, adulterate Truth! and never dare
With proud maids praise, to press where nup-
tials are

And, champions, since you see the truth I held,
To sacred Hymen, reconciled, yield:
Nor (so to yield) think it the least despight:
"It is a conquest to submit to right."

This royal judge of our contention
Will prop, I know, what I have undergone;
To whose right sacred highness I resign,
Low at his feet this starry crown of mine,
To shew his rule and judgment is divine;
These doves to him I consecrate withal,
To note his innocence, without spot, or gall;
These serpents, for his wisdom: and these
rays,

To shew, his piercing splendor: these bright keys

Designing power to ope the ported skies,
And speak their glories to his subjects' eyes.
Lastly, this heart, with which all hearts be

true:

And truth in him make treason ever rue.

With this they were led forth, hand in hand, reconciled, as in triumph. And thus the solemnities ended.

Vivite concordes, et nostrum diseite munte

The scene to this Masque, was a high, steep, red cliff, advancing itself into the clouds, figuring the place, from whence (as I have been, not fabulously, informed) the honorable family of the Radcliffs first took their name, a clivo rubro, and is to be written with that orthography; as I have observed out of master Camden, in his mention of the earls of Sussex. This cliff was also a note of height, greatness, and antiquity. Before which, on the two sides, were erected two pilasters, charged with spoils and trophies of Love and his mother, consecrate to marriage: amongst which, were old and young persons figured, bound with roses, the wedding garments, rocks and spindles, hearts transfixed with arrows, others flaming, virgins' girdles, garlands, and worlds of such like; all wrought round and bold and over head two personages, Triumph and Victory, in flying postures, and twice so big as the life, in place of the arch, and holding a garland of myrtle for the key. All which, with the pillars, seemed to be of burnished gold, and embossed out of the metal. Beyond the cliff was seen nothing but clouds, thick, and obscure; till on the sudden, with a solemn music, a bright sky breaking forth, there were discovered first two doves,' then two swans' with silver geers, drawing forth a triumphant chariot; in which Venus sat, crowned with her star, and beneath her the three Graces, or Charites, Aglaia, Thalia, Euphrosyne, all attired according to their antique figures. These, from their chariot, alighted on the top of the cliff, and descending by certain abrupt and winding passages, Venus having left her star only flaming in her seat, came to the earth, the Graces throwing garlands all the way, and began to speak.

Ven. It is no common cause, ye will conceive, My lovely Graces, makes your goddess leave Her state in heaven, to-night, to visit earth. Love late is fled away, my eldest birth, Cupid, whom I did joy to call my son; And, whom long absent, Venus is undone. Spy, if you can, his footsteps on this green; For here, as I am told, he late hath been, With divers of his brethren, lending light

1 Both doves and swans were sacred to this goddess, and As well with the one as the other, her chariot is induced by Ovid, lib. 10 and 11 Metamor.

Alluding to the Loves (the torch-bearers) in the Queen's Masque before.

From their best flames, to gild a glorious night;
Which I not grudge at, being done for her,
Whose honors, to mine own, I still prefer.
But he not yet returning, I'm in fear,
Some gentle Grace, or innocent Beauty here,
Be taken with him or he hath surprised
A second Psyche, and lives here disguised.
Find ye no track of his stray'd feet?
1 Gra. Not I.

2 Gra. Nor I.

3 Gra. Nor L.
Ven. Stay, nymphs, we then will try
A nearer way. Look all these ladies' eyes,
And see if there he not concealed lies;
Or in their bosoms, 'twixt their swelling breasts
The wag affects to make himself such nests:
His subtle shape in; I will have him cry'd,
Perchance he hath got some simple heart, to hide
And all his virtues told! that, when they'd know
What spright he is, she soon may let him go,
That guards him now; and think herself right
blest,

To be so timely rid of such a guest.
To her that brings him in. Speak to be heard.
Begin, soft GRACES, and proclaim reward
1 Grace. Beauties, have ye seen this toy,
Called Love, a little boy,3

Almost naked, wanton, blind;
Cruel now, and then as kind?
If he be amongst ye, say?
He is Venus' runaway.

2 Grace. She that will but now discover
Where the winged wag doth hover,
Shall to-night receive a kiss,
How, or where herself would wish :
But, who brings him to his mother,
Shall have that kiss, and another.

3 Grace. He hath marks about him plenty :
You shall know him among twenty.
All his body is a fire,

And his breath a flame entire,
That being shot, like lightning, in,
Wounds the heart, but not the skin.

1 Grace. At his sight, the sun hath turn'd,"
Neptune in the waters burn'd;

3 In this Love, I express Cupid, as he is Veneris filu and owner of the following qualities, ascribed him by the antique and later poets.

4 See Lucian. Dial. Deor.

2 Grace. Wings he hath, which though ye clip,

He will leap from lip to lip,

Over liver, lights, and heart,
But not stay in any part;

And, if chance his arrow misses,
He will shoot himself, in kisses.
3 Grace. He doth bear a golden bow,
And a quiver, hanging low,
Full of arrows, that outbrave
Dian's shafts; where, if he have
Any head more sharp than other,
With that first he strikes his mother.
1 Grace. Still the fairest are his fuel.
When his days are to be cruel,
Lovers' hearts are all his food;
And his baths their warmest blood:
Nought but wounds his hand doth season,
And he hates none like to Reason.

2 Grace. Trust him not; his words, though sweet,
Seldom with his heart do meet.
All his practice is deceit;
Every gift it is a bait;

Not a kiss but poison bears;

And most treason in his tears.

3 Grace. Idle minutes are his reign;
Then, the straggler makes his gain,
By presenting maids with toys,
And would have ye think them joys:
'Tis the ambition of the elf,
To have all childish as himself.

1 Grace. If by these ye please to know him,
Beauties, be not nice, but show him.

2 Grace. Though ye had a will to hide him, Now, we hope, ye'll not abide him.

3 Grace. Since you hear his falser play;

And that he's Venus' runaway.

At this, from behind the trophies, CUPID discovered himself, and came forth armed; attended with twelve boys, most antickly attired, that represented the Sports, and pretty Lightnesses that accompany Love, under the titles of Joci and Risus; and are said to wait on Venus, as she is Præfect of Marriage.3

Cup. Come, my little jocund Sports,

Come away; the time now sorts With your pastime this same night Is Cupid's day. Advance your light. With your revel fill the room, That our triumphs be not dumb. Wherewith they fell into a subtle capricious dance, to as odd a music, each of them bearing two

torches, and nodding with their antic faces,
with other variety of ridiculous gesture, which
gave much occasion of mirth and delight to the
spectators. The dance ended, Cupid went
forward.

Cup. Well done anticks! now my bow,
And my quiver bear to show;
That these beauties, here, may know,
By what arms this feat was done,
That hath so much honor won
Unto Venus and her son.

At which, his mother apprehended him and circling him in, with the Graces, began to demand.

Ven. What feat, what honor is it that you boast, My little straggler? I had given you lost, With all your games, here.

Cup. Mother!

Ven. Yes, sir, she.

What might your glorious cause of triumph. be
Have you shot Minerva or the Thespian dames'
Heat aged Ops again," with youthful flames?
Or have you made the colder Moon to visit
Once more, a sheepcote? Say, what conquest is it
Can make you hope such a renown to win?
Is there a second Hercules brought to spin?
Or, for some new disguise, leaves Jove his
thunder?

Cup. Nor that, nor those, and yet no less a wonder [He espies HYMEN. Which to tell, I may not stay: Hymen's presence bids away; 'Tis, already, at his night, He can give you further light. You, my Sports, may here abide, Till I call to light the bride.

Enter HYMEN.

[Slips from her.

4 She urges these as miracles, because Pallas, and the Muses, are most contrary to Cupid. See Luc. Dial. Ven. et Cupid.

place, makes to have fallen franticly in love by Cupid's means, with Atys. So of the Moon, with Endymion, Hercules, &c.

5 Rhea, the mother of the gods, whom Lucian, in that

Here Hymen, the god of marriage, entered; and was sc induced here, as you have him described in my Hymenæi. 7 When she is nuptiis præfecta, with Juno, Suadela. Diana, and Jupiter himself. Paus. in Messeniac. et Plut.

in Problem.

8 Æneas, the son of Venus, Virgil makes throughout, the most exquisite pattern of piety, justice, prudence, and all other princely virtues, with whom (in way of that excellence) I confer my sovereign, applying in his description his own word usurped of that poet, Parcere subjectis, et debel lare superbos

That is so just to his great act, and thought,
To do, not what kings may, but what kings
ought.

Who, out of piety, unto peace is vow'd,
To spare his subjects, yet to quell the proud;
And dares esteem it the first fortitude,
To have his passions, foes at home, subdued.
That was reserv'd, until the Parcæ spun
Their whitest wool; and then his thread begun,
Which thread, when treason would have burst,'
a soul

To-day renown'd, and added to my roll,"
Opposed; and, by that act, to his name did
The honor to be saver of his king. [bring
This king whose worth, if gods for virtue love,
Should Venus with the same affections move,
As her Eneas; and no less endear

Her love to his safety, than when she did cheer, After a tempest,3 long-afflicted Troy,

Upon the Lybian shore; and brought them joy.

Ven. I love, and know his virtues, and do boast Mine own renown, when I renown him most. My Cupid's absence I forgive, and praise, That me to such a present grace could raise. His champion shall, hereafter, be my care: But speak his bride, and what her virtues are.

Hy. She is a noble virgin, styled, The Maid Of the Red-cliff, and hath her dowry weigh'd No less in virtue, blood, and form, than gold; Thence, where my pillar's rear'd, you may behold, [name. Fill'd with love's trophies, doth she take her Those pillars did uxorious Vulcan frame, Against this day, and underneath that hill, He, and his Cyclopes, are forging still [night, Some strange and curious piece, to adorn the And give these graced nuptials greater light. Here VULCAN presented himself, as overhearing Hymen, attired in a cassock girt to him, with bare arms, his hair and beard rough; his hat of blue, and ending in a cone; in his hand a hammer and tongs, as coming from the forge. Vul. Which I have done; the best of all my

life; And have my end, if it but please my wife, And she commend it, to the labor'd worth. Cleave, solid rock! and bring the wonder forth. At which with a loud and full music, the cliff parted in the midst, and discovered an illustrious concave, filled with an ample and glistering light, in which an artificial sphere was made of silver, eighteen foot in the diameter, that turned perpetually: the coluri were heightened with gold; so were the arctic and antarctic circles,

The ancient poets, whensoever they would intend any thing to be done with great mastery, or excellent art, made Vulcan the artificer, as Hom. II E. in the forging of Achilles's armor, and Virg. for Æneas, Eneid. 8. He is also said to be the god of fire and light. Sometime taken for the purest beam and by Orph. in Hym. celebrated for he sun and moon. But more especially by Eurip. in Troad. he is made Facifer in Nuptiis. Which present office we give him here, as being Calor Naturæ, and Præses Luminis. See Plat. in Cratyl. For s description, read Pausan. in Eliac.

the tropics, the equinoctial, the meridian and horizon; only the zodiac was of pure gold: in which the masquers, under the characters of the twelve signs, were placed, answering them in number; whose offices, with the whole frame, as it turned, Vulcan went forward to describe. It is a sphere, I've formed round and even, With all his lines and circles; that compose In due proportion to the sphere of heaven, The perfect'st form, and aptly do disclose The heaven of marriage: which I title it : Within whose zodiac, I have made to sit, In order of the signs, twelve sacred powers, That are presiding at all nuptials hours:

The first, in Aries' place, respecteth pride
Of youth, and beauty; graces in the bride.
In Taurus, he loves strength and manliness;
The virtues which the bridegroom should pro
fess.

In Gemini, that noble power is shown,
That twins their hearts, and doth of two make

one.

In Cancer, he that bids the wife give way With backward yielding to her husband's sway.

In Leo, he that doth instil the heat
Into the man: which from the following seat
Is temper'd so, as he that looks from thence
Sees yet they keep a Virgin innocence.
In Libra's room, rules he that doth supply
All happy beds with sweet equality.

The Scorpion's place he fills, that makes the jars,

And stings in wedlock; little strifes and wars: Which he, in th' Archer's throne, doth soon flove

remove,

By making, with his shafts, new wounds of And those the follower with more heat inspires As, in the Goat, the sun renews his fires. Fertility upon the genial bowers. In wet Aquarius' stead, reigns he that showers

Last, in the Fishes place, sits he doth say, In married joys, all should be dumb as they.

And this hath Vulcan for his Venus done, To grace the chaster triumph of her son. Ven. And for this gift, will I to heaven return, And vow for ever, that my lamp shall burn With pure and chastest fire; or never shine, But when it mixeth with thy sphere and mine.

Here Venus returned to her chariot, with the Graces; while Vulcan, calling out the priests of Hymen, who were the musicians, was inter rupted by PYRACMON.

Vul. Sing then, ye priests.

Pyrac. Stay, Vulcan, shall not these Come forth and dance?

As Catul. hath it in nup. Jul. et Manl. without Hymen, which is marriage, Nil potest Venus, fama quod bona comprobet, &c.

6 One of the Cyclops, of whom, with the other two Brontes and Steropes, seo Virg. Æneid. Ferrum exercebant vasto Clyclopes in antro, Brontesque, Steropesque et nudus membra Pyraemon &c

Vul. Yes, my Pyracmon, please

The eyes of these spectators with our art.1

Pyrac. Come here then, Brontes, bear a Cy

clop's part,

And Steropes, both with your sledges stand,
And strike a time unto them as they land;
And as they forwards come, still guide their
paces,

In musical and sweet proportion'd graces;
While I upon the work and frame attend,
And Hymen's priests forth, at their seasons,
send
[admire
To chaunt their hymns; and make this square
Our great artificer, the god of fire.

Here the musicians, attired in yellow, with wreaths of marjoram, and veils like Hymen's priests, sung the first staff of the following Epithalamion: which, because it was sung in pieces between the dances, shewed to be so many several songs; but was made to be read an entire poem. After the song, they came (descending in an oblique motion) from the Zodiac, and danced their first dance; then music interposed, (but varied with voices, only keeping the same chorus) they danced their second dance. So after, their third and fourth dances, which were all full of elegancy and curious device. And thus it ended.2

EPITHALAMION.

Up, youths and virgins, up, and praise

The god, whose nights outshine his days; Hymen, whose hallowed rites Could never boast of brighter lights; Whose bands pass liberty.

1 As when Hom. Iliad. E, makes Thetis for her son Achilles, to visit Vulcan's house, he feigns that Vulcan had made twenty tripods, or stools with golden wheels, to move of themselves miraculously, and go out and return fitly. To which the invention of our dance alludes, and is in the poet a most elegant place, and worthy the tenth reading.

2 The two latter dances were made by master Thomas Giles, the two first by master Hier. Herne: who, in the persons of the two Cyclopes, beat a time to them with their hammers. The tunes were master Alphonso Ferrabosco's. The device and act of the scene master Inigo Jones's, with addition of the trophies. For the invention of the whole, and the verses, Assertor qui dicat esse meos, imponet plagiario pudorem.

The attire of the masquers throughout was most graceful and noble; partaking of the best both ancient and later figure. The colors carnation and silver, enriched both with embroidery and lace. The dressing of their heads, feathers and jewels; and so excellently ordered to the rest of the habit, as all would suffer under any description, after the shew. Their performance of all, so magnificent and illustrious, that nothing can add to the seal of it, but the subscription of their names: