The Muses Elizium lately discouered, by a new way ouer Parnassus. The passages therein, being the subiect of ten sundry nymphalls, leading three diuine poemes, Noahs floud. Moses, his birth and miracles. David and Golia. By Michael Drayton Esquire.

The eight Nimphall.

MERTILLA CLAIA CLORIS.

A Nimph is marryed to a Fay, Great preparations for the Day, All Rites of Nuptials they recite you To the Brydall and inuite you.

Mertilla.

BVt will our Tita wed this Fay?

Claia.

Yea, and to morrow is the day.

Mertilla.

But why should she bestow her selfe Vpon this dwarfish Fayry Else?

Claia.

Why by her smalnesse you may finde, That she is of the Fayry kinde, And therefore apt to chuse her make Whence she did her begining take: Besides he's deft and wondrous Ayrye, And of the noblest of the Fayry, Chiefe of the Crickets of much fame, In Fayry a most ancient name. But to be briefe, 'tis cleerely done, The pretty wench is woo'd and wonne.

Cloris.

If this be so, let vs prouide The Ornaments to fit our Bryde,

For they knowing she doth come From vs in Elizium, Queene Mab will looke she should be drest In those attyres we thinke our best, Therefore some curious things lets giue her, E'r to her Spouse we her deliuer.

Mertilla.

Ile haue a lewell for her care, (Which for my sake Ile haue her weare) T shall be a Dewdrop, and therein Of Cupids I will haue a twinne, Which strugling, with their wings shall break The Bubble, out of which shall leak So sweet a liquor as shall moue Each thing that smels, to be in loue.

Claia.

Beleeue me Gerle, this will be fine, And to this Pendant, then take mine; A Cup in fashion of a Fly, Of the Linxes piercing eye, Wherein there sticks a Sunny Ray Shot in through the cleerest day, Whose brightnesse Uenus selfe did moue, Therein to put her drinke of Loue, Which for more strength she did distill, The Limbeck was a Phoenix quill, At this Cups delicious brinke, A Fly approching but to drinke, Like Amber or some precious Gumme It transparant doth become.

Cloris.

For Iewels for her eares she's sped, But for a dressing for her head I thinke for her I haue a Tyer, That all Fayryes shall admyre, The yellowes in the full-blowne Rose, Which in the Top it doth inclose

Like drops of gold Oare shall be hung, Vpon her Tresses, and among Those scattered seeds (the eye to please) The wings of the Cantharides: With some o'th' Raine-bow that doth raile Those Moons in, in the Peacocks taile Whose dainty colours being mixt With th'other beauties, and so fixt, Her louely Tresses shall appeare, As though vpon a flame they were. And to be sure she shall be gay, Wee'll take those feathers from the Iay; About her eyes in Circlets set, To be our Tita's Coroner.

Mertilla.

Then dainty Girles I make no doubt, But we shall neatly send her out: But let's amongst our selues agree, Of what her wedding Gowne shall be.

Claia.

Of Pansie, Pincke, and Primrose leaues, Most curiously laid on in Threaues: And all embroydery to supply, Powthred with flowers of Rosemary: A trayle about the skirt shall runne, The Silke-wormes finest, newly spunne; And euery Seame the Nimphs shall sew With th 'smallest of the Spinners Clue: And hauing done their worke, againe These to the Church shall beare her Traine: Which for our Tita we will make Of the cast slough of a Snake, Which quiuering as the winde doth blow, The Sunne shall it like Tinsell shew.

Cloris.

And being led to meet her mate, To make sure that she want no state,

Moones from the Peacockes tayle wee'll shred, With feathers from the Pheasants head: Mixd with the plume of (so high price,) The precious bird of Paradice. Which to make vp, our Nimphes shall ply Into a curious Canopy. Borne o're her head (by our enquiry) By Elfes, the fittest of the Faery.

Mertilla.

But all this while we haue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Her Buskins, neighbours, haue we not?

Claia.

We had, for those I'le fit her now, They shall be of the Lady-Cow: The dainty shell vpon her backe Of Crimson strew'd with spots of blacke; Which as she holds a stately pace, Her Leg will wonderfully grace.

Cloris.

But then for musicke of the best, This must be thought on for the Feast.

Mertilla.

The Nightingale of birds most choyce, To doe her best shall straine her voyce; And to this bird to make a Set, The Mauis, Merle, and Robinet; The Larke, the Lennet, and the Thrush, That make a Quier of euery Bush. But for still musicke, we will keepe The Wren, and Titmouse, which to sleepe Shall sing the Bride, when shee's alone The rest into their chambers gone. And like those vpon Ropes that walke On Gossimer, from staulke to staulke, The tripping Fayry tricks shall play The euening of the wedding day.

Claia.

But for the Bride-bed, what were fit, That hath not beene talk'd of yet.

Cloris.

Of leaues of Roses white and red, Shall be the Couering of her bed: The Curtaines, Valence, Tester, all, Shall be the flower Imperiall, And for the Fringe, it all along With azure Harebels shall be hung: Of Lillies shall the Pillowes be, With downe stuft of the Butter flee.

Mertilla.

Thus sarre we handsomely haue gone, Now for our Prothalamion Or Marriage song of all the rest, A thing that much must grace our feast. Let vs practise then to sing it, Ere we before th' assembly bring it: We in Dialogues must doe it, Then my dainty Girles set to it.

Claia.

This day must Tita marryed be, Come Nimphs this nuptiall let vs see.

Mertilla.

But is it certaine that ye say, Will she wed the noble Faye?

Cloris.

Sprinckle the dainty flowers with dewes, Such as the Gods at Banquets vse: Let Hearbs and Weeds turne all to Roses, And make proud the posts with posies: Shute your sweets into the ayre, Charge the morning to be fayre.

Claia. and Mertilla.

For our Tita is this day, To be married to a Faye.

Claia.

By whom then shall our Bride be led To the Temple to be wed.

Mertilla.

Onely by your selfe and I, Who that roomth should else supply?

Cloris.

Come bright Girles, come altogether, And bring all your offrings hither, Ye most braue and Buxome Beuye, All your goodly graces Leuye, Come in Masestie and state Our Brydal here to celebrate.

Mertilla. and Claia.

For our Tita is this day, Married to a noble Faye.

Claia.

Whose lot wilt be the way to strow, On which to Church our Bride must goe?

Mertilla.

That I thinke as fit'st of all, To liuely Lelipa will fall.

Cloris.

Summon all the sweets that are, To this nuptiall to repayre; Till with their throngs themselues they smother, Strongly styfling one another; And at last they all consume, And vanish in one rich perfume.

Mertilla: and Claia.

For our Tita is this day, Married to a noble Faye.

Mertilla.

By whom must Tita married be, Tis fit we all to that should see?

Claia.

The Priest he purposely doth come, Th' Arch Flamyne of Elizium.

Cloris.

With Tapers let the Temples shine, Sing to Himen, Hymnes diuine: Load the Altars till there rise Clouds from the burnt sacrifice; With your Sensors sling aloofe Their smels, till they ascend the Roofe.

Mertilla. and Claia.

For our Tita is this day, Married to a noble Fay.

Mertilla.

But comming backe when she is wed, Who breakes the Cake aboue her head.

Claia.

That shall Mertilla, for shee's tallest, And our Tita is the smallest.

Cloris.

Violins, strike vp aloud, Fly the Gitterne, scowre the Crowd, Let the nimble hand belabour The whisteling Pipe, and drumbling Taber: To the full the Bagpiperacke, Till the swelling leather cracke.

Mertilla. and Claia.

For our Tita is this day, Married to a noble Fay.

Claia.

But when to dyne she takes her seats What shall be our Tita's meate?

Mertilla.

The Gods this Feast, as to begin, Haue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of their Ambrosia in.

Cloris.

Then serue we vp the strawes rich berry, The Respas, and Elizian Cherry: The virgin honey from the flowers In Hibla, wrought in Flora's Bowers: Full Bowles of Nectar, and no Girle Carouse but in dissolued Pearle.

Mertilla: and Claia.

For our Tita is this day, Married to a noble Fay.

Claia.

But when night comes and she must goe To Bed, deare Nimphes what must we doe?

Mertilla.

In the Posset must be brought, And Poynts be from the Bridegroome caught.

Cloris.

In Maskes, in Dances, and delight, And reare Banquets spend the night: Then about the Roome we ramble, Scatter Nuts, and for them scamble: Ouer Stooles, and Tables tumble, Neuer thinke of noyse nor rumble.

Mertilla. and Claia.

For our Tita is this day, Married to a noble Fay.