Lapas attēli

Of fears!
No intermitted blocks.
Sar. But pure affections, and from
odorous stocks!

Cho. 'Tis incense all that flames,
And these materials scarce have names !
Pro. My king looks higher, as he scorned
the wars

Of winds, and with his trident touched the stars;

There is no wrinkle in his brow or frown, But as his cares he would in nectar drown, And all the silver-footed nymphs were drest To wait upon him to the Ocean's feast.

Por. Or here in rows upon the banks were set,

And had their several hairs made into net

To catch the youths in as they come on shore. Sar. How, Galatea sighing! O, no more, Banish your fears.

And, Doris, dry your tears.

Por. ALBION is come.

[blocks in formation]

Until some lusty sea-god pulled them down. Cho. See, he is here!

Pro. Great master of the main,
Receive thy dear and precious pawn again.
Cho. Saron, Portunus, Proteus bring him

Safe as thy subjects' wishes gave him us:
And of thy glorious triumph let it be
No less a part, that thou their loves dost see,
Than that his sacred head's returned to thee.
This sung, the island goes back, whilst the
Upper Chorus takes it from them, and
the Masquers prepare for their figure.
Cho. Spring all the Graces of the age,
And all the Loves of time:

Bring all the pleasures of the stage,
And relishes of rhyme :

Add all the softnesses of courts,

The looks, the laughters, and the sports: And mingle all their sweets and salts,

That none may say the Triumph halts. Here the MASQUERS dance their Entry. Which done, the first prospective of a maritime palace, or the house of OCEANUS, is discovered with loud music.

And the other above is no more seen. Poet. Behold the palace of Oceanus ! Hail, reverend structure! boast no more to us Thy being able all the gods to feast; We've seen enough; our Albion was thy guest.

Then follows the Main Dance. After which the second prospect of the sea is shown to the former music.

Poet. Now turn and view the wonders of the deep,

Where Proteus' herds and Neptune's orks do keep,

Where all is ploughed, yet still the pasture's


The ways are found, and yet no paths are


up to the Ladies with this SONG.
The joys for which you so provide.
Pro. Come, noble nymphs, and do not hide

Sar. If not to mingle with the men,
What do you here? go home agen.

Por. Your dressings do confess, By what we see so curious parts

Of Pallas' and Arachne's arts,

That you could mean no less. Pro. Why do you wear the silkworm's toils,

Or glory in the shell-fish' spoils,
Or strive to shew the grains of ore
That you have gathered on the shore,

Whereof to make a stock
To graft the greener emerald on,
Or any better-watered stone?

Sar. Or ruby of the rock?

Of which was formed Neptune's niece,
Pro. Why do you smell of amber-grise,
The queen of Love; unless you can,
Like sea-born Venus, love a man?

Try, put yourselves unto't.
Cho. Your looks, your smiles, and
thoughts that meet,

Ambrosian hands and silver feet,

Do promise you will do't.

The REVELS follow.

1 And Haliclyon too.] The Duke of Buck- Which ended, the fleet is discovered, while ingham, Lord High Admiral.

the three cornets play.

Poet. 'Tis time your eyes should be refreshed at length

With something new, a part of Neptune's strength,

See yond' his fleet, ready to go or come,
Or fetch the riches of the ocean home,
So to secure him, both in peace and wars,
Till not one ship alone, but all be stars.
[A shout within.

Re-enter the Cook, followed by a number of Sailors.

Cook. I've another service for you, brother Poet; a dish of pickled sailors, fine salt sea-boys, shall relish like anchovies or caveare, to draw down a cup of nectar in the skirts of a night.

Sail. Come away, boys, the town is ours; hey for Neptune and our young master! Poet. He knows the compass and the card, While Castor sits on the main yard, And Pollux too to help your hales; And bright Leucothoë fills your sails: Arion sings, the dolphins swim, And all the way, to gaze on him.

The ANTIMASQUE of Sailors.

Then the last Song to the whole Music, five lutes, three cornets, and ten voices.


Pro. Although we wish the triumph still might last

For such a prince, and his discovery past; Yet now, great lord of waters and of isles, Give Proteus leave to turn unto his wiles.

Por. And whilst young Albion doth thy labours ease,

Dispatch Portunus to thy ports.

Sar. And Saron to thy seas: To meet old Nereus with his fifty girls, From aged Indus laden home with pearls, And orient gums, to burn unto thy name.

Grand Cho. And may thy subjects' hearts

be all on flame,

Whilst thou dost keep the earth in firm estate,

And 'mongst the winds dost suffer no debate, But both at sea and land our powers increase, With health and all the golden gifts of peace.

The last Dance.

With which the whole ended.

Pan's Anniversary; or, The Shepherd's



The Inventors, INIGO JONES; BEN Jonson.

PAN'S ANNIVERSARY, &c.] This Masque, which was probably presented on New Year's Day, was the last that James witnessed, as he died on the twenty-seventh of March following. It only appears in the fol. 1641, and was printed after Jonson's death.

The SCENE Arcadia. The Court being seated, enter three NYMPHS, strewing several sorts of flowers, followed by an old SHEPHERD, with a censer and perfumes.

I Nym. Thus, thus begin the yearly rites Are due to Pan on these bright nights; His morn now riseth and invites To sports, to dances, and delights: All envious and profane, away, This is the shepherd's holyday.

2 Nym. Strew, strew the glad and smiling ground

With every flower, yet not confound
The primrose drop, the spring's own spouse,
Bright day's-eyes, and the lips of cows,
The garden-star, the queen of May,
The rose, to crown the holyday.

3 Nym. Drop, drop your violets, change your hues,

Now red, now pale, as lovers' use,
And in your death go out as well,
As when you lived unto the smell:

That from your odour all may say,
This is the shepherd's holyday.

Shep. Well done, my pretty ones, rain roses still,

Until the last be dropt: then hence, and fill Your fragrant prickles1 for a second shower.

1 Your fragrant prickles.] So the gardeners still call the light open wicker baskets in which flowers are brought to market.

2 The colours China.] This is the earliest

[ocr errors]

Bring corn-flag, tulips, and Adonis' flower, Fair ox-eye, goldy-locks, and columbine, Pinks, goulands, king-cups, and sweet sopsin-wine,

Blue harebells, pagles, pansies, calaminth, Flower - gentle, and the fair-haired hyacinth,

Bring rich carnations, flower-de-luces, lilies, The checqued, and purple-ringed daffodillies,

Bright crown-imperial, kingspear, holyhocks,

Sweet Venus-navel, and soft lady-smocks, Bring too some branches forth of Daphne's hair,

And gladdest myrtle for these posts to wear, With spikenard weaved, and marjoram between,

And starred with yellow-golds, and meadows-queen,

That when the altar, as it ought, is drest, More odour come not from the phoenix' nest; The breath thereof Panchaia may envy, The colours China, and the light the sky. Loud Music.

The Scene opens, and the MASQUERS are discovered sitting about the Fountain of Light, with the Musicians attired like the Priests of Pan, standing in the work beneath them.

allusion that I have found to the beautiful colouring of this ware, which now began to make its appearance in the shops, or as they were called, China-houses of the capital.

Enter a FENCER, flourishing. Fen. Room for an old trophy of time; a son of the sword, a servant of Mars, the minion of the muses, and a master of fence! One that hath shown his quarters, and played his prizes at all the games of Greece in his time; as fencing, wrestling, leaping, dancing, what not? and hath now ushered hither by the light of my long sword, certain bold boys of Boeotia, who are come to challenge the Arcadians at their own sports, call them forth on their own holyday, and dance them down on their own green-swarth.

Shep. 'Tis boldly attempted, and must be a Boeotian enterprise, by the face of it, from all the parts of Greece else, especially at this time, when the best and bravest spirits of Arcadia, called together by the excellent Arcas, are yonder sitting about the Fountain of Light, in consultation of what honours they may do the great Pan, by increase of anniversary rites fitted to the music of his peace.

a bitter tooth in the company, it may be called out at a twitch: he doth command any man's teeth out of his nead upon the point of his poniard; or tickles them forth with his riding rod: he draws teeth a horseback in full speed, yet he will dance a foot, he hath given his word: he is yeoman of the mouth to the whole brotherhood, and is charged to see their gums be clean and their breath sweet, at a minute's warning. Then comes my learned Theban, the tinker I told you of, with his kettledrum before and after, a master of music and a man of metal, he beats the march to the tune of Ticklefoot, Pam, Pam, Pam, brave Epam with a Nondas. That's the strain. Shep. A high one!

Fen. Which is followed by the trace and tract of an excellent juggler, that can juggle with every joint about him, from head to heel. He can do tricks with his toes, wind silk and thread pearl with them, as nimble a fine fellow of his feet as his hands: for there is a noble corn-cutter, his companion, hath so pared and finified them Indeed he hath taken it into his care to reform the feet of all, and fit all their foot

Fen. Peace to thy Pan, and mum to thy music, swain: there is a tinker of Thebes a coming, called Epam, with his kettle, willing to a form! only one splay foot in the make all Arcadia ring of him. What are your sports for the purpose-say? If singing, you shall be sung down; if dancing, danced down. There is no more to be done with you, but know what; which it is; and you are in smoke, gone, vapoured, vanished, blown, and, as a man would say, in a word of two syllables, nothing.

Shep. This is short, though not so sweet. Surely the better part of the solemnity here will be dancing.

Fen. Enough: they shall be met with instantly in their own sphere, the sphere of their own activity, a dance. But by whom, expect: no Cynetheian, nor Satyrs; but, as I said, boys of Boeotia, things of Thebes, (the town is ours, shepherd), mad merry Greeks, lads of life, that have no gall in us, but all air and sweetness. A toothdrawer is our foreman, that if there be but

1 Then comes my learned Theban, the tinker I told you of] In Lear, the poor old king says, "I'll talk a word with this same learned


company, and he is a bellows-mender allowed, who hath the looking to of all their lungs by patent, and by his place is to set that leg afore still, and with his puffs keeps them in breath during pleasure: a tinderbox-man, to strike new fire into them at every turn, and where he spies any brave spark that is in danger to go out, ply him with a match presently.

Shep. A most politic provision !

Fen. Nay, we have made our provisions beyond example, I hope. For to these there is annexed a clock-keeper, a grave person as Time himself, who is to see that they all keep time to a nick,2 and move every elbow in order, every knee in compass. He is to wind them up and draw them down, as he sees cause: then is there a subtle, shrewd bearded sir, that hath been a politician, but is now a maker of

also a master of music, the epithet does not seem to be very much out of its place. But Antimasque in Greece, that he might have an "perhaps" Jonson laid the scene of this grave On which Steevens observes, "Ben Jonson, in this I take to be the case, as Thebes is not paropportunity of "ridiculing Shakspeare;" and his Masque of Pan's Anniversary, has intro- ticularly celebrated for the musical talents of its duced a tinker, whom he calls a learned Theban, tinkers. The commentators should consider this perhaps in ridicule of this passage.' "The ridi- well. cule (if ridicule there be) must be in the word learned, for (though Steevens was ignorant of 2 To a nickl ie. what Shakspeare calls " it) the tinker actually was a Theban: as he was jar o' the clock."

mouse-traps, a great inginer yet: and he is to catch the ladies favours in the dance with certain cringes he is to make; and to bait their benevolence. Nor can we doubt of the success, for we have a prophet amongst us of that peremptory pate, a tailor or master fashioner, that hath found it out in a painted cloth, or some old hanging, (for those are his library), that we must conquer in such a time, and such a half time; therefore bids us go on cross-legged, or however thread the needles of our happiness, go through stitch with all, unwind the clew of our cares; he hath taken measure of our minds, and will fit our fortune to our footing. And to better assure us, at his own charge, brings his philosopher with him, a great clerk, who, they say, can write, and it is shrewdly suspected but he can read too. And he is to take the whole dances from the foot by brachygraphy, and so make a memorial, if not a map of the business. Come forth, lads, and do your own turns.

The BOOTIANS enter for the ANTIMASQUE, which is danced.

After which,

Fen. How like you this, shepherd? was not this gear gotten on a holyday?


1 Nym. Of Pan we sing, the best of singers, Pan,

That taught us swains how first to tune And on the pipe more airs than Phoebus can. our lays, Cho. Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his praise.

a Nym. Of Pan we sing, the best of leaders, Pan,

That leads the Naiads and the Dryads forth;

And to their dances more than Hermes can. Cho. Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his worth.

3 Nym. Of Pan we sing, the best of hunters, Pan,

That drives the hart to seek unused ways, And in the chase more than Sylvanus can. Cho. Hear, O you groves, and hills re

sound his praise.

2 Nym. Of Pan we sing, the best of shepherds, Pan,

That keeps our flocks and us, and both leads forth

To better pastures than great Pales can. Cho. Hear, O you groves, and hills re

sound his worth,

And while his powers and praises thus we sing,

valleys let rebound, and all the rivers ring.

The MASQUERS descend, and dance their Entry.

Shep. Faith, your folly may deserve par-The don because it hath delighted: but beware of presuming, or how you offer comparison with persons so near deities. Behold where they are that have now forgiven you, whom should you provoke again with the like, they will justly punish that with anger which they now dismiss with contempt. Away! [They retire.

[blocks in formation]


Pan is our All, by him we breathe, we live, We move, we are; 'tis he our lambs

doth rear,

Our flocks doth bless, and from the store doth give

The warm and finer fleeces that we wear.
He keeps away all heats and colds,
Drives all diseases from our folds;
Makes everywhere the spring to dwell,
The ewes to feed, their udders swell;
But if he frown, the sheep, alas!
The shepherds wither, and the grass.
Cho. Strive, strive to please him then,
by still increasing thus

The rites are due to him, who doth all right for us.

[blocks in formation]
« iepriekšējāTurpināt »