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Cho. Where look but in the ground there,
And you s'all see a sound there,
That put him altogedder,
Is sweet as measure pedder.
Still, still, &c.

SIXTH SONG.

Rheese. Au, but what say yow should it shance too,

That we should leap it in a dance too,
And make it you as great a pleasure,
If but your eyes be now at leisure ;
As in your ears s'all leave a laughter,
To last upon you six days after?
Ha! well-a-go to, let us try to do,
As your old Britton, things to be writ on.
Cho. Come, put on other looks now,
And lay away your hooks now;
And though yet yow ha' no pump, sirs,
Let 'em hear that yow can jump, sirs.

Still, still, &c.

Jen. Speak it your conscience now; did your ursip ever see such a song in your days? 'is not as finely a tunes as a man would wiss to put in his ears?

Ev. Come, his madesty s'all hear better to your dance.

Here a dance of MEN.

Ev. Haw! well danced, very well danced!

Jen. Well plaid, Howell; well plaid, Rheese! Da wharry I vellhee well danced, i' faith!

Ev. Good boys, good boys! pold and Prittan, pold and Prittan.

I

Jen. Is not better this now than pigmies? this is men, this is no monsters, an' you mark him: well, caull forth your goats now, your ursip s'all see a properly natural devise come from the Welse mountains! is no tuns, nor no bottils: stand by there, s'ow his ursip the hills; was dronkenry in his eyes that make that devise in my mind. But now marg, marg, your ursip pray yow now, and yow s'all see natures and propriedies; the very beasts of Wales s'all do more than your men pyt in bottils and barrils; there was a tale of a tub, i' faith. [Music.] 'Is the goatherd and his dog, and his son, and his wife make musiques to the goats as they come from the hills; give 'em rooms, give 'em rooms, now they cym! the elderly goats is indifferently grave at first, because of his beard, and only tread it the measures; byt yow will see him put off his gravities by and by well enough, and frisk it as fine as

e'er a kid on 'em aull. The Welse goat is an excellent dancer by birth, that is written of him, and of as wisely carriage, and comely behaviours a beast (for his footing especially) as some one or two man, got bless him.

Ev. A haull, a haull! come, a haull! Aw vellhee.

Here the Dance of GOATS.

I Wo. Nay, and your madestee bid the Welse goats welcome; the Welse wenc'es s'all sing your praises, and dance your healths too.

SONG.

1 Wom. Au, God bless it our good king S'ames,

His wife and his sildren, and all his reams. 2 Wom. And all his ursipful s'istice of peace about him.

I Wom. And send that his court be never without him.

2 Wom. Ow, that her would come down into Wales.

I Wom. Her s'ud be very welcome to Welse Ales.

2 Wom. I have a cow.

I Wom. And I have a hen.

2 Wom. S'all give it milk.

I Wom. And eggs for aull his men.

Both. It self sa'll have venison and other seere,

And may it be starved, that steal him his deer,

There, there, and everywhere.

Jen. Cym, dance now, let us hear your dance, dance.

Ev. Ha! well plaid Ales.
How. For the honour of Wales.

Here the MEN and WOMEN dance
together.

Jen. Digon! enough, enough, digon.1 Well now all the absurdities is removed and cleared; the rest, an't please your grace, s'all tarry still, and go on as it was; Virtue and Pleasure was well enough, indifferently well enough: only we will intreat Pleasure to cym out of Driffimdore, that is the Gilden Valley, or Gelthleedore, that is the Gilden Grove, and is in Care Marden, the Welse Garden. Is a thousand place in Wales as finely places as the Esperides every crum of him; Merlin was born there too, put we would not make him rise now and wake him, because we

1 Digon!] i.e., enough! The words below should be Dyffryn oyr, and Gelhy oyr.

have his prophecies already of your madestee's name to as good purpose as if he were here in presence, Pod hy geller. Evan?

Ev. You will still pyt your selve to these plunses, you mean his madestee's anagrams of Charles James Stuart.

Jen. Ay, that is Claimes Arthur's Seate, which is as much as to say, your madestee s'ud be the first king of Gread Prittan, and sit in Cadier Arthur, which is Arthur's Chair, as by Got's blessing you do: and then your son, Master Sharles, his, how do you caull him? is Charles Stuart, Calls tru hearts, that is us, he calls us, the Welse nation, to be ever at your service, and love you, and honour you, which we pray you understand it his meaning. And that the musicians yonder are so many Brittis bards that sing o'pen the hills to let out the Prince of Wales and his Welse friends to you, and all is done.

Grif. Very homely done it is, I am well assured, if not very rudely: but it is hoped your majesty will not interpret the honour, merits, love, and affection of so noble a portion of your people by the poverty of these who have so imperfectly uttered it : you will rather for their sakes, who are to come in the name of Wales, my lord the prince and the others, pardon what is past, and remember the cyntry has always been fruitful of loyal hearts to your majesty, a very

We would not make him rise now, because we have his prophecies already, &c.] This alludes to the speech of the Lady of the Lake, in Prince Henry's Barriers (p. 64 a): "And that a monarch equal good and great, Wise, temperate, just and stout, CLAIMES ÁRTHUR'S SEAT."

The last three words of which form, as Evan

garden and seed-plot of honest minds and men what lights of learning hath Wales sent forth for your schools? what industrious students of your laws? what able ministers of your justice? whence hath the crown in all times better servitors, more liberal of their lives and fortunes? where hath your court or council for the present more noble ornaments or better aids? I am glad to see it and to speak it, and though the nation be said to be unconquered and most loving liberty, yet it was never mutinous, and please your majesty, but stout, valiant, courteous, hospitable, temperate, ingenious, capable of all good arts, most lovingly constant, charitable, great antiquaries, religious preservers of their gentry and genealogy, as they are zealous and knowing in religion.

In a word, it is a nation bettered by prosperity, so far as to the present happiness it enjoys under your most sacred majesty, it wishes nothing to be added but to see it perpetual in you and your issue.

God of his great goodness grant it, and

shew he is an errant knave and no true Briton does not say Amen too with his heart.

PLEASURE RECONCILED TO VIRTUE followed and so it ended.

observes, and as graver heads than his had observed long before him, the celebrated anagram, CHARLES JAMES STUART, and prove to the satisfaction of all the world, that this good monarch was the person at whose high destinies Merlin pointed, and in whom the prediction was fulfilled. Pod hy geller is, Let us do as well as

we can.

News from the New World Discovered in

the Moon.

A MASQUE, AS IT WAS PRESENTED AT COURT BEFORE
KING JAMES, 1620.

Nascitur è tenebris: et se sibi vindicat orbis.

NEWS FROM THE NEW WORLD, &c.] This was the Author's first Masque after his return from Scotland, where he had been on a visit to his "friend" Drummond. A masque had been composed for the Court during his absence (I know not by whom), and ill received; so that the wish for Jonson's return was pretty generally expressed. "I have heard, says this second Pylades, (putting aside for a moment the atrocious string of calumnies which he was industriously fabricating against his unsuspecting correspondent), "I have heard from Court that the late Mask was not so approved of the king as in former times, and that your absence was regretted. Such applause hath true worth! even of those who are otherwise not for it. Your loving friend."Jan. 17, 1619.

Jonson did not disappoint his admirers, for the World in the Moon is written with all the elegance and ease of the best days of Queen Anne. The satire too is of the most delicate kind, and the wit is perpetual and abundant.

[Drummond wrote this letter before Jonson's visit to Hawthornden. This Masque was presented twice, at Twelfth-tide and Shrove-tide.-F. C.]

'em wherever they be at any rates; I'll

Enter two HERALDS, a PRINTER, CHRO- give anything for a good Copy now, be it

NICLER, and FACTOR.

I Her. News, news, news!
2 Her. Bold and brave news!
I Her. New as the night they are born in.
2 Her. Or the phant'sie that begot 'em.
1 Her. Excellent news!

2 Her. Will you hear any news?
Print. Yes, and thank you too, sir:
what's the price of 'em?

I Her. Price, coxcomb! what price, but the price of your ears? As if any man used to pay for anything here.

2 Her. Come forward; you should be some dull tradesman by your pig-headed sconce now, that think there's nothing good anywhere but what's to be sold.

Print. Indeed I am all for sale, gentlemen; you say true, I am a printer, and a printer of news; and I do hearken after

true or false, so 't be news.

1 Her. A fine youth!

Chro. And I am for matter of state, gentlemen, by consequence, story (my Chronicle) to fill up my great book, which must be three ream of paper at least; I have agreed with my stationer aforehand to make it so big, and I want for ten quire yet. I ha' been here ever since seven o'clock in the morning to get matter for one page, and I think I have it complete; for I have both noted the number and the capacity of the degrees here; and told twice over how many candles there are i' the room lighted, which I will set you down to a snuff precisely, because I love to give light to posterity in the truth of things.

I Her. This is a finer youth!
Fac. Gentlemen, I am neither printer

nor chronologer, but one that otherwise the printing of 'em makes 'em news to take pleasure in my pen: a factor of news a great many who will indeed believe nofor all the shires of England; I do write thing but what's in print. For those I my thousand letters a week ordinary, some- do keep my presses, and so many pens time twelve hundred, and maintain the going to bring forth wholesome relations, business at some charge both to hold up which once in half a score years, as the my reputation with mine own ministers in age grows forgetful, I print over again with town and my friends of correspondence in a new date, and they are of excellent use. the country; I have friends of all ranks Chro. Excellent abuse rather. and of all religions, for which I keep an answering catalogue of dispatch; wherein I have my puritan news, my protestant news, and my pontificial news.

2 Her. A superlative this!

Fac. And I have hope to erect a Staple for News ere long, whither all shall be brought and thence again vented under the name of Staple-news, and not trusted to your printed conundrums of the serpent in Sussex, or the witches bidding the devil to dinner at Derby: news that when a man sends them down to the shires where they are said to be done, were never there to be found!

Print. Sir, that's all one, they were made for the common people; and why should not they ha' their pleasure in believing of lies are made for them, as you have in Paul's, that make 'em for yourselves.

I Her. There he speaks reason to you, sir.

Fact. I confess it; but it is the printing | I am offended at, I would have no news printed; for when they are printed they leave to be news; while they are written, though they be false, they remain news still. Print. See men's divers opinions! It is

1 And I have hope to erect a Staple for News ere long, &c.] The comedy of the Staple of News is formed upon the hint here given.WHAL.

2 And not trusted to your printed conundrums of the serpent in Sussex.] In 1614, there was a discourse published of a strange monstrous Serpent in St. Leonard's forest, in Sussex, which was discovered there in the month of August in the same year. The relation is set forth with an air of great sincerity, and attested by eyewitnesses living on the place. But from the description, we are to suppose something further intended by it, or that some conundrum or other, as the poet styles it, was couched under the account. "This serpent, or dragon as some call it, is reputed to be nine feet or rather more in length, and shaped almost in the form of an axle-tree of a cart, a quantity of thickness in the middle, and somewhat smaller at both ends. The former part, which he shoots forth as a neck, is supposed to be an ell long,

Print. Master Chronicler, do not you talk, I shall

I Her. Nay, gentlemen, be at peace one with another, we have enough for you all three, if you dare take upon trust. Print. I dare, I assure you. Fact. And I as much as comes.

Chro. I dare too, but nothing so much as I have done; I have been so cheated with false relations i' my time, as I ha' found it a far harder thing to correct my book, than collect it.

Fact. Like enough; but to your news, gentlemen, whence come they?

1 Her. From the MOON, ours, sir. Fact. From the Moon! which way? by sea or by land?

I Her. By moonshine; a nearer way, I take it.

Print. Oh, by a trunk I know it, a thing no bigger than a flute-case: a neigh bour of mine, a spectacle-maker, has drawn the moon through it at the bore of a whistle, and made it as great as a drum-head twenty times, and brought it within the length of this room to me, I know not how often.

Chro. Tut, that's no news: your perplexive glasses are common, No, it will

with a white ring as it were of scales about it. The scales along his back seem to be blackish, and so much as is discovered under his belly appeareth to be red; for I speak of no nearer description, than of a reasonable ocular distance. There are likewise on either side of him discovered two great bunches so big as a large foot-ball: and, as some think, will in time grow to wings," &c. More to the same purpose may be found in the account, which is reprinted in the 3rd vol. of the Harleian Miscellany. There is an allusion to this same dragon in Fletcher's Wit without Money:

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fall out to be Pythagoras's way,1 1 warrant you, by writing and reading i' the moon. Print. Right, and as well read of you, i'faith for Cornelius Agrippa has it, in disco luna, there 'tis found.

I Her. Sir, you are lost, I assure you; for ours came to you neither by the way of Cornelius Agrippa nor Cornelius Drible. 2 Her. Nor any glass of

1 Her. No philosopher's phantasie. 2 Her. Mathematician's perspicil. 1 Her. Or brother of the Rosie Cross's intelligence, no forced way, but by the neat and clean power of poetry.

2 Her. The mistress of all discovery.

1 Her. Who, after a world of these curious uncertainties, hath employed thither a servant of hers in search of truth: who has been there

2 Her. In the moon.

I Her. In person.

2 Her. And is this night returned. Fact. Where? which is he? I must see his dog at his girdle, and the bush of thorns at his back, ere I believe it.

I Her. Do not trouble your faith then, for if that bush of thorns should prove a goodly grove of oaks, in what case were you and your expectation?

2 Her. These are stale ensigns of the Stage's man i' the moon, delivered down to you by musty antiquity, and are of as doubtful credit as the maker's.

Chro. Sir, nothing again antiquity, I pray you, I must not hear ill of antiquity.

I Her. Hundreds and wapentakes! forests, parks, coney-ground, meadow pasture, what not?

2 Her. But differing from ours.

Fact. And has your poet brought all this? Chro. Troth, here was enough: 'tis a pretty piece of poetry as 'tis.

I Her. Would you could hear on, though!

2 Her. Gi' your minds to't a little. Fact. What inns or ale-houses are there there? does he tell you?

1 Her. Truly, I have not asked him that. 2 Her. Nor were you best, I believe. Fact. Why in travel a man knows these things without offence; I am sure if he be a good poet he has discovered a good tavern in his time.

1 Her. That he has, I should think the worse of his verse else.

Print. And his prose too, i'faith. Chro. Is he a man's poet, or a woman's poet, I pray you?

2 Her. Is there any such difference? Fact. Many, as betwixt your man's tailor and your woman's tailor.

1 Her. How, may we beseech you? Fact. I'll show you: your man's poet may break out strong and deep i' the mouth, as he said of Pindar, Monte decurrens velut amnis: but your woman's poet must flow, and stroke the ear, and, as one of them said of himself sweetly

Must write a verse as smooth and calm as cream,

2

1 Her. Oh! you have an old wife belike, or your venerable jerkin there-make In which there is no torrent, nor scarce

much of 'em. Our relation, I tell you still, is news.

2 Her. Certain and sure news.

I Her. Of a new world.

2 Her. And new creatures in that world. I Her. In the orb of the moon.

2 Her. Which is now found to be an earth inhabited.

I Her. With navigable seas and rivers. 2 Her. Variety of nations, polities, laws. I Her. With havens in't, castles, and port-towns.

2 Her. Inland cities, boroughs, hamlets, fairs, and markets.

1 Pythagoras's way, &c.] See p. 6 a..

& Must write a verse, &c.] I have been amused with a little piece of malice by Theobald. Opposite this passage, he has written on the margin of his copy (the 8vo of 1715), "Woman's Poet, his soft versification, Mr. P And in the "Discoveries," where the couplet recurs, he has again set a mark on it. Poor Theobald was probably much comforted

"

stream.

2 Her. Have you any more on't.

Fact. No, I could never arrive but to this remnant.

1 Her. Pity! would you had had the whole piece for a pattern to all poetry.

Print. How might we do to see your poet? did he undertake this journey, I pray you, to the moon on foot? I Her. Why do you ask?

Print. Because one of our greatest poets (I know not how good a one) went to Edinburgh on foot,3 and came back; marry, he has been restive, they say, ever since;

by this private hit, hoc opertum, hoc ridere suum; and Pope perhaps would have been disturbed if he had known it.

not how good a one, went to Edinburgh on Because one of our greatest poets, I know foot.] He here means himself, having walked to Scotland on purpose to visit Drummond of Hawthornden, in the year 1619.-WHAL

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