The LADY OF THE LAKE discovered. Lady. A silence, calm as are my waters, meet Your rais'd attentions, whilst my silver feet Touch on the richer shore; and to this seat Vow my new duties, and mine old repeat. Lest any yet should doubt, or might mistake What nymph I am, behold the ample Lake Of which I'm styled; and near it MERLIN'S tomb,

Grave of his cunning, as of mine the womb.

By this it will not ask me to proclaim More of myself, whose actions, and whose name Were so full feign'd in British ARTHUR'S Court; No more than it will fit me to report

What hath before been trusted to our 'squire Of me, my knight, his fate, and my desire To meet, if not prevent, his destiny, And style him to the court of Britany: Now when the island hath regain'd her fame Intire, and perfect, in the ancient name, And that a monarch equal good and great, Wise, temperate, just, and stout, CLAIMS AR

THUR'S SEAT.

Did I say equal? O too prodigal wrong
Of my o'er-thirsty and unequal tongue!
How brighter far than when our Arthur liv'd,
Are all the glories of this place reviv'd!
What riches do I see; what beauties here!
What awe, what love, what reverence, joy, and
What ornaments of counsel as of court! [fear!
All that is high, or great, or can comport
Unto the style of majesty, that knows
No rival, but itself, this place here shows.
Only the house of Chivalry (howe'er
The inner parts and store be full, yet here
In that which gentry should sustain) decay'd,
Or rather ruin'd seems; her buildings laid
Flat with the earth, that were the pride of time,
And did the barbarous Memphian heaps out-
climb.

Those obelisks and columns broke, and down, That struck the stars, and rais'd the British crown

To be a constellation: shields and swords,
Coowebb'd, and rusty; not a helm affords
A spark of lustre, which were wont to give
Light to the world, and made the nation live;
When in a day of honor fire was smit
To have put out Vulcan's, and have lasted yet.
O, when this edifice stood great and high,
That in the carcase hath such majesty,
Whose very skeleton boasts so much worth,
What grace, what glories did it then send forth!
When to the structure went more noble names
Than the Ephesian temple lost in flames:

When every stone was laid by virtuous hands; And standing so, O that it yet not stands ! More truth of architecture there was blazed, Than liv'd in all the ignorant Goths have razed. There porticos were built, and seats for knights That watch'd for all adventures, days and nights.

The niches fill'd with statues to invite

Young valors forth, by their old forms to fight.
With arcs triumphal for their actions done,
Out-striding the Colossus of the Sun.
And trophies, rear'd of spoiled enemies,
Whose tops pierc'd through the clouds, and bit
the skies.

ARTHUR discovered as a star above.
Arth. And thither hath thy voice pierc'd.
Stand not mazed,

Thy eyes have here on greater glories gazed,
And not been frighted. I, thy Arthur, am
Translated to a star: and of that frame
Or constellation that was call'd of me
So long before, as showing what I should be,
Arcturus, once thy king, and now thy star,
Such the rewards of all good princes are!
Nor let it trouble thy design, fair dame,
That I am present to it with my flame
And influence: since the times are now devolv'à
That Merlin's mystic prophecies are absolv'd,
In Britain's name, the union of this isle,
And claim both of my sceptre and my style.

Fair fall his virtue, that doth fill that throne, In which I joy, to find myself so' out-shone: And for the greater, wish, men should him take, As it is nobler to restore than make.

Proceed in thy great work; bring forth thy knight

Preserved for his times, that by the might
And magic of his arm he may restore
These ruin'd seats of virtue, and build more
Let him be famous, as was Tristram, Tor.
Launcelot, and all our list of knighthood; or
Who were before, or have been since: his name
Strike upon heaven, and there stick his fame.
Beyond the paths and searches of the sun,
Let him tempt fate; and when a world is won,
Submit it duly to this state, and throne,
Till time, and utmost stay make that his own.
But first receive this shield: wherein is
wrought

The truth that he must follow; and (being taught
The ways from heaven) ought not be despised
It is a piece, was by the fates devised
To arm his maiden valor; and to show
Defensive arms th' offensive should forego.
Endow him with it, Lady of the Lake,

And for the other mysteries here, awake
The learned MERLIN, when thou shut'st him
there,

Thou buried'st valor too, for letters rear
The deeds of honor high, and make them live.
If then thou seek to restore prowess, give
His spirit freedom; then present thy night:
For arms and arts sustain each others right.
Lady. My error I acknowledge, though too
To expiate it; there's no resisting fate. [late

Arise, great soul! fame by surreption got
May stead us for the time, but lasteth not.
O, do not rise with storm, and rage. [Thunder,
lightning, &c.] Forgive

Repented wrongs. I'm cause thou now shalt live
Eternally, for being deprest awhile,
Want makes us know the price of what we avile.

MERLIN arising out of the tomb.

Mer. I neither storm, nor rage; 'tis earth;
blame her

That feels these motions when great spirits stir :
She is affrighted, and now chid by heaven,
Whilst we walk calmly on, upright and even.
Call forth the fair MELIADUS, thy knight,
They are his fates that make the elements fight,
And these but usual throes, when time sends
A wonder or a spectacle of worth. [forth
At common births the world feels nothing new;
At these she shakes; mankind lives in a few.
Lady. The heavens, the fates, and thy peculiar

break.

Invite him forth, and guide him to his tent,
That I may read this shield his fates present.
Lady. Glory of knights, and hope of all the
earth,
[birth
Come forth; your fostress bids! who from your
Hath bred you to this hour, and for this throne;
This is the field to make your virtue known.

If he were now, he says, to vow his fires
Of faith, of love, of service, then his 'squires
Had utter'd nothing for him: but he hopes
In the first tender of himself, his scopes
Were so well read, as it were no decor'm
Where truth is studied, there to practise form.
Mer. No, let his actions speak him; and this
shield

Let down from heaven, that to his youth will yield

Such copy of incitement: not the deeds
Of antique knights, to catch their fellows'
steeds,

Or ladies palfreys, rescue from the force
Of a fell giant, or some score to unhorse.
These were bold stories of our Arthur's age;
But here are other acts; another stage,
And scene appears; it is not since as then:
No giants, dwarfs, or monsters here, but men.
His arts must be to govern, and give laws
His fate here draws
To peace no less than arms.
An empire with it, and describes each state
Preceding there, that he should imitate.

First, fair Meliadus, hath she wrought an isle,
The happiest of the earth (which to your style
In time must add) and in it placed high
Britain, the only name made Cæsar fly.

Within the nearer parts, as apt, and due To your first speculation you may view The eye of justice shooting through the land, Like a bright planet strengthen'd by the hand, Of first, and warlike Edward; then th' increase Of trades and tillage, under laws and peace, Begun by him, but settled and promov'd By the third hero of his name, who lov'd To set his own a-work, and not to see The fatness of his land a portion be For strangers. This was he, erected first The trade of clothing, by which art were nurs'd Whole millions to his service, and relieved So many poor, as since they have believed The golden fleece, and need no foreign mine, If industry at home do not decline.

[here

To prove which true, observe what treasure The wise and seventh Henry heap'd each year, To be the strength and sinews of a war, When Mars should thunder, or his peace but jar. And here how the eighth Henry, his brave son, Builds forts, made general musters, train'd youth on

In exercise of arms, and girt his coast
With strength; to which (whose fame no tongue
can boast

Up to her worth, though all best tongues be glad
To name her still) did great Eliza add
A wall of shipping, and became thereby
The aid, or fear, of all the nations nigh. [read,
These, worthiest Prince, are set you near to
That civil arts the marshal must precede:
That laws and trade bring honors in and gain,
And arms defensive a safe peace maintain.
But when your fate shall call you forth t' assure
Your virtue more, though not to make secure,
View here, what great examples she hath placed.
First, two brave Britain heroes, that were
graced

To fight their Savior's battles, and did bring
Destruction on the faithless; one a king
Richard, surnamed with the lion's heart,
The other Edward, and the first, whose part
(Then being but prince) it was to lead these wars
In the age after, but with better stars.
For here though Cœur de Lion like a storm
Pour on the Saracens, and do perform
Deeds past an angel, arm'd with wrath and fire,
Ploughing whole armies up, with zealous ire,
And walled cities, while he doth defend

That cause that should all wars begin and end;
Yet when with pride, and for humane respect
The Austrian colors he doth here deject
With too much scorn, behold at length how fate
Makes him a wretched prisoner to that state;
And leaves him, as a mark of fortune's spight,
When princes tempt their stars beyond their
light:

Whilst upright Edward shines no less than he,
Under the wings of golden victory,
Nor lets out no less rivers of the blood
Of infidels, but makes the field a flood,
And marches through it, with St. George's cross,
Like Israel's host to the Egyptians' loss,
Through the Red Sea; the earth beneath him
cold,

And quaking such an enemy to behold.
For which his temper'd zeal, see providence
Flying in here, and arms him with defence
Against th' assassinate made upon his life

By a foul wretch, from whom he wrests the knife,

And gives him a just hire: which yet remains
A warning to great chiefs, to keep their trains
About them still, and not, to privacy,
Admit a hand that may use treachery.

Nearer than these, not for the same high cause. Yet for the next (what was his right by laws Of nations due) doth fight that Mars of men The black prince Edward, 'gainst the French, who then

At Cressy field had no more years than you;
Here his glad father has him in the view
As he is entering in the school of war,
And pours all blessings on him from afar
That wishes can; whilst he, that close of day,
Like a young lion newly taught to prey,
Invades the herds, so fled the French, and tears
From the Bohemian crown the plume he wears,
Which after for his crest he did preserve
To his father's use, with this fit word, I SERVE.
But here at Poictiers he was Mars indeed.
Never did valor with more stream succeed
Than he had there; he flow'd out like a sea
Upon their troops, and left their arms no way :
Or like a fire carried with high winds
Now broad, and spreading, by and by it finds
A vent upright, to look which way to burn;
Then shoots along again, or round doth turn,
Till in the circling spoil it hath embraced
All that stood nigh, or in the reach to waste:
Such was his rage that day; but then forgot,
Soon as his sword was sheath'd, it lasted not,
After the king, the dauphin, and French peers
By yielding to him, wisely quit their fears,
Whom he did use with such humanity,
As they complain'd not of captivity;
But here to England without shame came in :
To be his captives, was the next to win.

Yet rests the other thunderbolt of war,
Harry the fifth, to whom in face you are
So like, as fate would have you so in worth,
Illustrious prince. This virtue ne'er came forth,
But Fame grew greater for him, than she did
For other mortals; Fate herself did bid
To save his life: the time it reach'd unto,
War knew not how to give him enough to do.
His very name made head against his foes.
And here at Agincourt, where first it rose,

| It there hangs still a comet over France,
Striking their malice blind, that dare advance
A thought against it, lighten'd by your flame
That shall succeed him both in deeds and name
I could report more actions yet of weight
Out of this orb, as here of eighty-eight,
Against the proud Armada, styled by Spain
The INVINCIBLE; that cover'd all the main,
As if whole islands had broke loose, and swam,
Or half of Norway with her fir trees came,
To join the continents, it was so great;
Yet by the auspice of Eliza beat:
That dear-beloved of heaven, whom to preserve
The winds were call'd to fight, and storms to

serve.

One tumor drown'd another, billows strove
Tout-swell ambition, water air out-drove :
Though she not wanted, on that glorious day,
An ever-honor'd Howard to display

St. George's ensign; and of that high race
A second, both which plied the fight and chase:
And sent first bullets, then a fleet of fire,
Then shot themselves like ordnance; and a tire
Of ships for pieces, through the enemies moon,
That waned before it grew; and now they soon
Are rent, spoil'd, scatter'd, tost with all disease,
And for their thirst of Britain drink the seas.
The fish were never better fed than then,
Although at first they fear'd the blood of men
Had chang'd their element, and Neptune shook,
As if the Thunderer had his palace took.

So here in Wales, Low Countries, France and
Spain,

You may behold both on the land and main,
The conquest got, the spoils, the trophies rear'd
By British kings, and such as noblest heard
Of all the nation, which may make to invite
Your valor upon need, but not to incite
Your neighbor princes, give them all their due,
And be prepared if they will trouble you.
He doth but scourge himself, his sword that
draws

Without a purse, a counsel, and a cause.

But all these spurs to virtue, seeds of praise, Must yield to this that comes. Here's one will

raise

Your glory more, and so above the rest,
As if the acts of all mankind were prest
In his example. Here are kingdoms mix'd
And nations join'd, a strength of empire fix'd
Conterminate with heaven; the golden vein
Of Saturn's age is here broke out again.
Henry but join'd the roses, that ensign'd
Particular families, but this hath join'd
The rose and thistle, and in them combined
A union, that shall never be declined.
Ireland, that more in title, than in fact,
Before was conquer'd, is his laurels act!
The wall of shipping by Eliza made,
Decay'd (as all things subject are to fade)
He hath new-built, or so restored, that men
For noble use, prefer it afore then :
Royal and mighty James, whose name shall set
A goal for all posterity to sweat,

In running at, by actions hard and high: fy.
This is the height at which your thoughts must
He knows both how to govern, how to save,
What subjects, what their contraries should

have,

What should to mercy, what to justice move:
All arts he can, and from the hand of Fate
Hath he enforced the making his own date.
Within his proper virtue hath he placed
His guards 'gainst Fortune, and there fixed fast
The wheel of chance, about which kings are
hurl'd,

And whose outrageous raptures fill the world.

Lady. Ay, this is he, Meliadus, whom you Must only serve, and give yourself unto; And by your diligent practice to obey So wise a master, learn the art of sway. Merlin, advance the shield upon his tent. And now prepare, fair knight, to prove the

event

Of your bold Challenge. Be your virtues steel'd,

And let your drum give note you keep the field.
[Drum beats.
Is this the land of Britain so renown'd
For deeds of arms, or are their hearings drown'd
That none do answer?

Mer. Stay, methinks I see
A person in yon cave.

Who should that be? I know her ensigns now; 'tis CHIVALRY Possess'd with sleep, dead as a lethargy: If any charm will wake her, 'tis the name Of our Meliadus. I'll use his fame.

Lady, Meliadus, lord of the isles, Princely Meliadus, and whom fate now styles The fair Meliadus, hath hung his shield Upon his tent, and here doth keep the field, According to his bold and princely word; And wants employment for his pike and sword.

CHIVALRY, coming forward.

Chi. Were it from death, that name would wake me. Say,

Which is the knight? O, I could gaze a day
Upon his armor that hath so reviv'd

My spirits, and tells me that I am long-liv'd
In his appearance. Break, you rusty doors,
That have so long been shut, and from the shores
Of all the world, come, knighthood, like a flood
Upon these lists, to make the field here good,

THE BARRIERS.

After which MERLIN speaks to the Prince. Mer. Nay, stay your valor, 'tis a wisdom high In princes to use fortune reverently. He that in deeds of arms obeys his blood, Doth often tempt his destiny beyond good. Look on this throne, and in his temper view The light of all that must have grace in you: His equal justice, upright fortitude And settled prudence, with that peace endued Of face, as mind, always himself and even. So Hercules, and good men bear up heaven.

I dare not speak his virtues, for the fear Of flattering him, they come so nigh and near To wonders; yet thus much I prophesy Of him and his. All ears your selves apply.

You, and your other you, great king and

queen,

Have yet the least of your bright fortune scen
Which shall rise brighter every hour with time,
And in your pleasure quite forget the crime
Of change; your age's night shall be her noon.
And this young knight, that now puts forth so

soon

Into the world, shall in your names achieve
More garlands for this state, and shall relieve
Your cares in government; while that young
lord

Shall second him in arms, and shake a sword
And lance against the foes of God and you.
Nor shall less joy your royal hopes pursue
In that most princely maid, whose form might
call

The world to war, and make it hazard all
His valor for her beauty; she shall be
Mother of nations, and her princes see
Rivals almost to these. Whilst you sit high,
And led by them, behold your Britain fly
Beyond the line, when what the seas before
Did bound, shall to the sky then stretch hiz

shore.

Wound his cornet the second time, and found it.]
I thought 'twas she!

Idle nymph, I pray thee be
Modest, and not follow me:
I not love myself, nor thee.^

Here he wound the third time, and was answered by
another Satyr, who likewise shewed himself.
Ay, this sound I better know:

List! I would I could hear moe.

At this they came running forth severally, to the number of ten, from divers parts of the rock, leaping and making antick actions and gestures; some of them speaking, some admiring: and

They are the names of two young Satyrs, I find in Virgil Eclog. 6. that took Silenus sleeping; who is feigned to be the pædagogue of Bacchus: as the Satyrs are his collusores, or play-fellows. So doth Diodor. Siculus, Synesius, Julian, in Cæsarib. report them.

2 A proverbial speech, when they will tax one the other of drinking or sleepiness: alluding to that former place in Virgil:

Chromis et Mnasilus in antro

Silenum, pueri, somno videre jacentem,
Inflatuin hesterno venas, ut semper, Iaccho.

3 Silenus is every where made a lover of wine, as in Cyclops Eurip. and known by the notable ensign, his tankard: out of the same place of Virgil: Et gravis attrita pendebat cantharus ansa. As also out of that famous piece of sculpture, in a little gem or piece of jasper, observed by Mons. Casaubon, in his tract de Satyrica Poësi, from Rascasius Bagarrius: wherein is described the whole manner of the seene, and chori of Bacchus, with Silenus, and the Satyrs. An elegant and curious antiquity, both for the subtilty and labor: where, in so small a compass, (to use his words) there is Rerum, personarum, actionum plane stupenda varietas.

4 Respecting that known fable of Echo's following Nareissus; and his self-love.

amongst them a SILENE, who is ever the prefect of the Satyrs, and so presented in all their chor and meetings.

2 Sat. Thank us, and you shall do so.

3 Sat. Ay, our number soon will grow. 2 Sat. See Silenus!"

3 Sat. CERCOPS too!

4 Sat. Yes. What is there now to do? 5 Sat. Are there any nymphs to woo? 4 Sat. If there be, let me have two." Silen. Chaster language! These are nights, Solemn to the shining rites

Of the Fairy Prince, and knights While the moon their orgies lights. 2 Sat. Will they come abroad, anon? 3 Sat. Shall we see young OBERON! 4 Sat. Is he such a princely one,

As you spake him long agon? Silen. Satyrs, he doth fill with grace Every season, every place; Beauty dwells but in his face; He's the height of all our race. Our Pan's father, god of tongue,

Bacchus, though he still be young,

3 In the pomps of Dionysius, or Bacchus, to every company of Satyrs, there was still given a Silene for their over seer or governor. And in that which is described by Athenæus in his fifth book. Bini Sileni non semel commemorantur, qui totidem plurium Satyrorum gregibus præsint. Erant enim eorum epistatæ, præsules, et coryphæi, propter grandem ætatem. He was also purpureo pallio vestitus cum albis soleis, et petasatus, aureum caduceum parvum ferens. Vid. Athenæ. Dipnos, lib. 6. de pompa Ptolemaica

6 The nature of the Satyrs the wise Horace expressed well, in the word, when he called them Risores et Dicaces, as the Greek poets, Nonnus, &c. style them prÀokepropový. Nec solum dicaces, sed et proni in venerem, et saltatores assidui et credebantur, et fingebantur.

Unde Satyrıca saltatio, quæ GIKIVVIS dicebatur, et à qua Satyri ipsi σικιννισται. Vel à Sicino inventore, vel dre Tis Kivýσews, id est, a motu saltationis satyrorum, qui est concitatissimus.

7 But in the Silenes was nothing of this petulance and lightness, but, on the contrary, all gravity and profound knowledge of most secret mysteries. Insomuch as the most learned of poets, Virgil, when he would write a poem of the beginnings, and hidden nature of things, with other great antiquities, attributed the parts of disputing them, to Silenus, rather than any other. Which whosoever thinks to be easily, or by chance done by the most prudent writer will easily betray his own ignorance or folly. To this, see the testimonies of Plato, Synesius Herodotus, Strabo, Phi lostratus, Tertullian, &c.

Among the ancients, the kind, both of the Centaurs and Satyrs, is confounded; and common with either. As some times the Satyrs are said to come of the Centaurs, and again the Centaurs of them. Either of them are διφυές, but after a diverse manner. And Galen observes out of Hippocrates, Comment. 3. in 6. Epidemicor. that both the Athenians and Ionians called the Satyrs φοράς, οι φηρέας, which name the Centaurs have with Homer: from whence, it were no unlikely conjecture, to think our word Fairies to come. Viderint critici.

9 Mercury, who for the love of Penelope, while she was keeping her father Icarius's herds on the mountain Tayge