The Court being seated,

Enter CERISTMAS, with two or three of the guard, attired in round hose, long stockings, a close doublet, a high-crowned hat, with a brooch, a long thin beard, a truncheon, little ruffs, white shoes, his scarfs and garters tied cross, and his drum beaten before him.

WHY, gentlemen, do you know what you do? ha! would you have kept me out? CHRISTMAS, old Christmas, Christmas of London, and Captain Christmas? Pray you, let me be brought before my lord chamberlain, I'll not be answered else: 'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all: I have seen the time you have wish'd for me, for a merry Christmas; and now you have me, they would not let me in: I must come another time! a good jest, as if I could come more than once a year: Why I am no dangerous person, and so I told my friends of the guard. I am old Gregory Christmas still, and though I come out of Pope's-head alley, as good a Protestant as any in my parish. The truth is, I have brought a Masque here, out o' the city, of my own making, and do present it by a set of my sons, that come out of the lanes of London, good dancing boys all. It was intended, I confess, for CurriersHall; but because the weather has been open, and the Livery were not at leisure to see it till a frost came, that they cannot work, I thought it convenient, with some little alterations, and the groom of the revels' hand to't, to fit it for a higher place; which I have done, and though I say it, another manner of device than your New-year's-night. Bones o' bread, the king! (seeing James.) Son Rowland! son Clem! be ready there in a trice: quick, boys! Enter his Sons and DAUGHTERS, (ten in number,) led in, in a string, by CUPID, who is attired in a flat cap, and a prentice's coat, with wings at his shoulders.

MISRULE, in a velvet cap, with a sprig, a short cloak, great yellow ruff, like a reveller, his torch-bearer bearing a rope, a cheese, and a basket.

CAROL, a long tawney coat, with a red cap, and a flute at his girdle, his torch-bearer carrying a song-book open.

MINCED-PIE, like a fine cook's wife, drest neat; her man carrying a pie, dish and spoons. GAMBOL, like a tumbler, with a hoop and bells; his torch-bearer arm'd with a colt-staff, and a binding cloth.

POST AND PAIR, with a pair-royal of aces in his hat; his garment all done over with pairs and purs; his squire carrying a box, cards, and

counters.

NEW-YEAR'S-GIFT, in a blue coat, serving-man like, with an orange, and a sprig of rosemary gil on his head, his hat full of brooches, with a collar of ginger-bread, his torch-bearer carrying o march-pane with a bottle of wine on either arm. MUMMING, in a masquing pied suit, with a vizard, his torch-bearer carrying the box, and ringing it. WASSEL, like a neat sempster and songster; her page bearing a brown bowl, drest with ribands, and rosemary before her.

OFFERING, in a short gown, with a porter's staff in his hand, a wyth born before him, and a bason. by his torch-bearer.

BABY-CAKE, drest like a boy, in a fine long coat, biggin-bib, muckender, and a little dagger; his usher bearing a great cake, with a bean and a pease.

They enter singing.

Now God preserve, as you do well deserve,
Your majesties all, two there;

Your highness small, with my good lords all,
And ladies, how do you do there?

Give me leave to ask, for I bring you a masque
From little, little, little London;
Which say the king likes, I have passed the pikes,
If not, old Christmas is undone. [Noise without.

Chris. Ha, peace! what's the matter there? Gam. Here's one o' Friday-street would come in.

Chris. By no means, nor out of neither of the Fish-streets, admit not a man; they are not Christmas creatures: fish and fasting days, foh! Sons, said I well? look to't.

Gam. No body out o' Friday-street, nor the two Fish-streets there, do you hear?

Car. Shall John Butter o' Milk street come in? ask him.

Gam. Yes, he may slip in for a torch-bearer, so he melt not too fast, that he will last till the masque be done.

Chris. Right, son.

Our dance's freight is a matter of eight,
And two, the which are wenches:
In all they be ten, four cocks to a hen,
And will swim to the tune like tenches.

Each hath his knight for to carry his light,
Which some would say are torches;
To bring them here, and to lead them there,
And home again to their own porches.
Now their intent.

Enter VENUS, a deaf tire-woman. Ven. Now, all the lords bless me! where an I, trow? where is Cupid? "Serve the king!' they may serve the cobler well enough, some of 'em, for any courtesy they have, I wisse; they have need o' mending: unrude people they are,

your courtiers; here was thrust upon thrust indeed was it ever so hard to get in before, trow ?

Chris. How now? what's the matter?

Ven. A place, forsooth, I do want a place : I would have a good place, to see my child act in before the king and queen's majesties, God bless 'em! to-night.

Chris. Why, here is no place for you.

Ven. Right, forsooth, I am Cupid's mother, Cupid's own mother, forsooth; yes, forsooth: I dwell in Pudding-lane: — ay, forsooth, he is

Chris. Let him hold his peace, and his disgrace will be the less: what! shall we proclaim where we were furnish'd? Mum! mum! a' peace! be ready, good boys.

Now their intent is above to present,
With all the appurtenances,
A right Christmas, as of old it was,
To be gathered out of the dances.
Which they do bring, and afore the king,
The queen, and prince, as it were now
Drawn here by love; who over and above,
Doth draw himself in the geer too.

Chris. Good lady Venus of Pudding-lane, you must go out for all this.

Ven. Yes, forsooth, I can sit any where, so I may see Cupid act: he is a pretty child, though I say it, that perhaps should not, you will say. I had him by my first husband, he was a smith, forsooth, we dwelt in Do-little-lane then he came a month before his time, and that may make him somewhat imperfect; but I was a fishmonger's daughter.

Chris. No matter for your pedigree, your house: good Venus, will you depart?

Ven. Ay, forsooth, he'll say his part, I warrant him, as well as e'er a play-boy of 'em all: I could have had money enough for him, an I would have been tempted, and have let him out by the week to the king's players. Master Burbage has been about and about with me, and so has old master Hemings too, they have need of him: where is he, trow, ha! I would fain see him pray God they have given him some drink since he came.

Strike up,

Chris. Are you ready, boys! nothing will drown this noise but a drum: a' peace, yet! I have not done. Sing

Now their intent is above to present

Car. Why, here be half of the properties forgotten, father.

Offer. Post and Pair wants his pur-chops, and his pur dogs.

Car. Have you ne'er a son at the groom porter's, to beg or borrow a pair of cards quickly? Gam. It shall not need, here's your son Cheater without, has cards in his pocket.

Offer. Ods so! speak to the guards to let him in, under the name of a property.

Gam. And here's New-year's-gift has an orange and rosemary, but not a clove to stick in't.

New-Year. Why let one go to the spicery. Chris. Fy, fy, fy! it's naught, it's naught, boys!

Ven. Why, I have cloves, if it be cloves you want, I have cloves in my purse, I never go without one in my mouth.

Car. And Mumming has not his vizard nei

ther.

Chris. No matter! his own face shall serve, for a punishment, and 'tis bad enough; has Wassel her bowl, and Minced-pie her spoons ?

Offer. Ay, ay: but Misrule doth not like his suit: he says, the players have lent him one too little, on purpose to disgrace him.

about once. In the second coming up, CHRISTMAS proceeds in his SONG.

Hum drum, sauce for a coney;

No more of your martial music;
Even for the sake o' the next new stake,
For there I do mean to use it.

And now to ye, who in place are to see
With roll and farthingale hooped :

I pray you know, though he want his bow,
By the wings, that this is Cupid.

He might go back, for to cry What you lack?
But that were not so witty:

His cap and coat are enough to note,

That he is the love o' the city.
And he leads on, though he now be gone,
For that was only his-rule:
But now comes in, Ton of Bosoms-inn,
And he presenteth Mis-rule.

Which you may know, by the very show,
Albeit you never ask it:

For there you may see, what his ensigns be,
The rope, the cheese, and the basket.
This Carol plays, and has been in his days
A chirping boy, and a kill-pot:
Kit Cobler it is, I'm a father of his,

And he dwells in the lane called Fill-pot.

But who is this? O, my daughter Cis,
Minced-pie; with her do not dally

On pain o' your life: she's an honest cook's wife
And comes out of Scalding-alley.

Next in the trace, comes Gambol in place;
And, to make my tale the shorter,
My son Hercules, tane out of Distaff-lane,
But an active man, and a porter.

Now Post and Pair, old Christmas's heir,
Doth make and a gingling sally;
And wot you who, 'tis one of my two
Sons, card-makers in Pur-alley.

Next in a trice, with his box and his dice,
Mac'-pipin my son, but younger,
Brings Mumming in; and the knave will win,
For he is a costermonger.

But New-year's-gift, of himself makes shift,
To tell you what his name is :
With orange on head, and his ginger-bread,
Clem Waspe of Honey-lane 'tis.

This, I tell you, is our jolly Wassel,

And for Twelfth-night more meet too
She works by the ell, and her name is Nell,
And she dwells in Threadneedle-street too.
Then Offering, he, with his dish and his tree,
That in every great house keepeth,

Is by my son, young Little-worth, done,
And in Penny-rich street he sleepeth.
Last, Baby-cake, that an end doth make
Of Christmas' merry, merry vein-a,

Is child Rowlan, and a straight young man.
Though he come out of Crooked-lane-a.
There should have been, and a dozen I ween,
But I could find but one more
Child of Christmas, and a Log it was
When I them all had gone o'er

knights,

Or queen and ladies bright:
Cupid invites you to the sights
He shall present to-night.

Ven. "Tis a good child, speak out; hold up your head, Love.

Cup. And which Cupid—and which Cupid —

Ven. Do not shake so, Robin; if thou be'st a-cold, I have some warm waters for thee here. Chris. Come, you put Robin Cupid out with your waters, and your fisling; will you be gone?

Ven. Ay, forsooth, he's a child, you must conceive, and must be used tenderly; he was never in such an assembly before, forsooth, but once at the Warmoll Quest, forsooth, where he said grace as prettily as any of the sheriff's hinch-boys, forsooth.

Chris. Will you peace, forsooth?

Cup. And which Cupid — and which Cupid,

Ven. Ay, that's a good boy, speak plain, Robin: how does his majesty like him, I pray? will he give eight-pence a day, think you Speak out, Robin.

Chris. Nay, he is out enough, you may take him away, and begin your dance: this it is to have speeches.

Ven. You wrong the child, you do wrong the infant; I'peal to his majesty.

Here they dance.

Chris Well done, boys, my fine boys, my bully boys!

THE EPILOGUE.

Sings. Nor do you think that their legs is all
The commendation of my sons,
For at the Artillery garden they shall
As well forsooth use their guns,

And march as fine, as the Muses nine,
Along the streets of London:

And in their brave tires, to give their false fires
Especially Tom my son.

Now if the lanes and the allies afford

Such an ac-ativity as this;

At Christmas next, if they keep their word,
Can the children of Cheapside miss?
Though, put the case, when they come in place,
They should not dance, but hop:

Their very gold lace, with their silk, would 'em
grace,

Having so many knights o' the shop.

But were I so wise, I might seem to advise
So great a potentate as yourself:

They should, sir, I tell ye, spare't out of their belly,
And this way spend some of their pelf.

Ay, and come to the court, for to make you some
sport,

At the least once every year.

As Christmas hath done, with his seventh or eighth

son,

And his couple of daughters dear

AND THUS IT ENDEN

none cut.

Mer. I'gin to doubt, that Love with charms hath put

This phant'sie in them; and they only think

That they are ghosts.

1 Fate. If so, then let them drink

Of Lethe's stream.

2 Fate. "Twill make them to forget Love's name.

3 Fate. And so, they may recover yet.
Mer. Go, now unto the reverend lake:

[To the shades.
And having touch'd there; up and shake
The shadows off, which yet do make
Us you, and you yourselves mistake.

Pre they all stoop to the water, and dance forth their Antimasque in several gestures, as they lived in love and retiring into the grove, before the last person be off the stage, the first Couple appear in their posture between the trees, ready to come forth, changed.

Mer. See! see! they are themselves again.

1 Fate. Yes, now they are substances and men.
2 Fate. Love at the name of Lethe flies.
Lethe. For, in oblivion drown'd, he dies.
3 Fate. He must not hope, though other states
He oft subdue, he can the Fates.

Fates. "Twere insolence to think his powers
Can work on us, or equal ours.

Not sighs, nor tears, nor wounded hearts,
Nor flames, nor ghosts: but airy parts
Tried and refined as yours have been,
And such they are, I glory in.

Mer. Look, look unto this snaky rod,
And stop your ears against the charming god;
His every word falls from him is a snare:
Who have so lately known him, should beware.

Here they dance their Main Dance.

Cup. Come, do not call it Cupid's crime,
You were thought dead before your time;
If thus you move to Hermes' will
Alone, you will he thought so still.
Go, take the ladies forth, and talk,

And touch, and taste too: ghosts can walk.
'Twixt eyes, tongues, hands, the mutual strife
Is bred that tries the truth of life.
They do, indeed, like dead men move,
That think they live, and not in love!
Here they take forth the Ladies, and the REVELS
follow. After which.

Cup.

Should with the world be quite undone,
For your fair sakes (you brighter stars,
Who have beheld these civil wars)

Fate is content these lovers here
Remain still such; so Love will swear
Never to force them act to do,
But what he will call Hermes to.
Iswear; and with like cause thank Mer-
cury,

As these have to thank him and Destiny.
Cho. All then take cause of joy for who hath not?
Old Lethe, that their follies are forgot:
We, that their lives unto their fates they fit;
They, that they still shall love, and love with wit.

AND THUS IT ENDED

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