The sun's-darling a moral masque : as it hath been often presented at Whitehall by Their Majesties servants, and after at the Cock-pit in Drury Lane, with great applause / written by John Foard and Tho. Decker, Gent.

THE Sun's-Darling: A Moral Masque:

As it hath been often presented at Whitehall, by their Majesties Servants; and after at the Cock-pit in Drury Lane, with great Applause.

Written by

• Iohn Foard and
• Tho. Decker

Gent.

[illustration]

LONDON, Printed by I. Bell, for Andrew Penneycuicke, Anno Dom. 1656.

To the Right Honorable THOMAS WRIATHESLEY, Earle of Southampton, Lord WRIATHSLEY, of Tichfield, &c.

MY LORD!

HErodotus Reports that the Aegyp∣tians by Wrapping their Dead in Glasse, presents them lively to all Posterity; But your Lordship will do more, by the Vivifying beames of your Acceptation, Revive ••he∣parents of this Orphan Poem, and make them live to Eternity. While the Stage florisht, the POEM liv'd by the breath of Generall Applauses, and the Virtuall Fervor of the Court; But since hath lan

guisht for want of heate, and now neere sbrunk up with Cold, creepes (with a shivering feare) to Extend it selse at the Flames of your Ben••gnity. My Lord, though it seems Rough and Forlorn, It is the jssu of Worthy parents, and we doubt not, but you will find it accomplisht with their Vertue. Be pleased then (my Lord) to give it entertain••ment, the more Destitute and neea•• it is, the Greater Reward may be challenged by your Charity; and so being shelt r'd under your Wings, and Comsorted by the Sun-shine of your Favoure, it will become Proofe against the Injustice of Time, and like one of D••metrius statues appeare fresher and fresher to all Ages. My Lord, were we not Confident of the Excellence of the Peece, wee should not dare to Assume an impudence to pre∣ferr it to a Person of your HONOR, and KNOWN JUDGMENT; whose HEARTS are ready SACRIFICES, to your NAME and HO∣NOR, Being my Lord••

Your Lordships most humble, and most Obligedly, Submissive Servants, Theophilus Bird. Andrew Penneycuicke.

Upon the SUN'S DARLING.

IS he then found? Phoebus make holliday; Tye up thy Steeds; And let the Cyclops Play; Mulceber leavethy Anvile, and be trim; Combe thy black Muzle, be no longer Grim; Mercury be quick, with mirth furnish the heavens, Jove, this day let all run at fix and seavens; And Ganimede be nimble, to the Brim Fill Boules of Nectar, that the Gods may swim, To solemnize their healths that did discover The oscure being of the Suns fon'd lover. That from the Example of their liberall mirth We may enjoy like freedome on Earth.

Iohn Tatham,

READER.

IT is not here intended to present thee with the perfect Analogy betwixt the World and man, which was made for Man; Nor their Co-existence, the World determin∣ing with Man••this I presume hath bin by o∣thers Treated on, But drawing the Curtain of this Mor all, you shall finde him in his pro∣gression as followeth.

The first Season.

PResen•• him in the Twy-light of his age Nor Po••-gun-proofe, and, yet hee'l have his page: This smale Knight-Errant will encounter things Above his pearch, and like the partridge Springs.

The second Season.

Folly, his squire, the Lady Humor brings. Who in his eare farr sweeter Novells sings. He follows them; forsakes the Aprill Queene, And now the Noone-tide of his age is seene.

The third Season.

AS soone as Ner••'d with strength, he become Weak••, Folly and Humor, doth his reason breake; Hurries him from his Noone-tide to his even; From Summer to his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he is driven.

The fourth Season.

ANd now the Winter, or his ••onage takes him: The sad remembrance of his errours wakes him; Folly and Humour, Faine hee'd cast away, But they will never leave him, till hee's Clay. Thus Man as Clay Descends, Ascends in spirit; Dust, goes to dust, The soule unto It's Merit.

The Names of the Persons.

• Phoebus the Sun, Winter.
• Raybright the suns Dar∣ling Conceit.
• Lady Spring. Detraction
• Youth, Time.
• Delight, Priest of the Sun.
• Health. Folly.
• Summer. A Souldier.
• Plenty. A Spanyard.
• Pomona. An Italian Dancer.
• Cupid. A French Taylor.
• Fortune. A Forrester.
• Autumne. Aeolus.
• Bacchanalian. Maskers.
• Bounty. 3 Clowns.

THE Sun's-Darling.

ACT. I.

AN ALTAR.

Enter the Priest of the Sun.

Raybright discovered sleeping.

Pr.

LEt your tunes, you sweet-voic'd spears, overtake him: Charm his fancies, ope his ears, now awake him. begin.

SONG.

Fancies are but streams of vain pleasure: They who by their dreams true ••oies measure; Feasting, starve; laughing, weep; playing smart, whilst in sleep fools with shadows smiling,

wake and and finde hopes like winde, Idle hopes beguiling. Thoughts flie away, Time hath past'em Wake now, awake, see and taste'em.

Ray.

That I might ever slumber, and enjoy Contents as happie as the soul's best wishes Can fancie or imagine, 'tis a crueltie Beyond example, to ulurp the peace I sate inthron'd in, who was't pluck'd mee from it.

Pr.

Young man look hither.

Ray.

Good; I envie not The pomp of your high office; all preferment Of earthly glories are to me diseases, Infecting those found parts which should preserve The flattering retribution to my thankfulness; The times are better to me; there's no taste Left on the pallate of my discontent To catch at emptie hopes, whose onely blessedness Depends on beeing miserable.

Pr.

Raybright Thou drawst thy great descent from my grand patron the Sun; whose priest I am.

Ray.

For small advantage; Hee who is high-born never mounts von battlemen Of sparkling stars, unless I bee in spi••it As humble as the childe of one that sweats To eat the dear-earn'd bread of honest thrift.

Pr.

Hast thou not flow'd in honors?

Ray.

Honors, I'de not bee baited with my fears Of loosing em, to bee their monstrous creature An age together, 'tis beside as comfortable To die upon the embrodrie of the grass, Un••••ded, as to ser a world at gaze, Whilst from a pinacle I tumble down And break my neck, to bee talk'd of, and wonder'd at.

Pr.

You have worn rich habits. Fine Ass-trappings. A Pedler's heir turn'd gallant, follows fashion,

Can by a cross-legg'd Tailor bee transform'd Into a Jack a napes of passing bravery: 'Tis a stout hapiness to wear good clothes, Yet live and die a fool—mew.

Pr.

You have had choice Of beauties to enrich your marriage-bed.

Ray.

Monkyes and Parakeetoes are as prettie To play withall, tho not indeed so gentle. Honestie's indeed a fine jewel, but the Indies Where it grows is hard to bee discovered, troath sir I care for no long travels with lost labor.

Pr.

Pieasures of every sence have been your servants, When as y'ave commanded them.

Ray.

To threaten ruine, Corrupt the puritie of knowledg, wrest Detires of better life, to those of these This scurvie one, this life scarce worth the keeping.

Pr.

'Tis melancholy, and too fond indulgence To your own dull'd affections: sway your judgment, You could not else bee thus lost, or suspect The care your ancestor the Sun takes of yee.

Ray.

The care, the scorn hee throw; on mee.

Pr.

Fie, fie; Have you been sent out into strange lands, Seen Courts of forreign Kings, by them been grac'd, To bring home such neglect.

Ray.

I have reason for't.

Pr.

Pray shew it.

Ray.

Since my coming home I have found More sweets in one unprofitable dream, Then in my lives whole pilgrimage.

Pr.

Your fantasie Misleads your judgment vainly, sir in brief I am to tell you, how I have receiv'd From your Progenitor, my Lord, the Sun, A token, that he visibly will descend From the celestial orbe to gratifie all your wilde longings.

Ray.

Very likely, when pray:

The world the whiles shall be beholding to him For a long night, new married men will curse, Tho their brides tickle for't, oh! candle and la••thorn Will grow to an excessive rate i'th Citie.

Pr.

These are but flashes of a brain disordered. Contein your float of spleen in seemly bounds, Your eies shall bee your witness.

Ray.

Hee may come.

Enter Time with a whip, whipping Follie before him.

Tim.

Hence, hence, thou shame of nature, mankindes foil: Time whipps thee from the world, kicks thee, and scorns thee.

Fol.

Whip me from the world, why whip? am I a dog, a cur, a mungrel: baw waw. Do thy worst, I defie thee.

Sings.

I will rore and squander, Cozen, and bee dr••nk too; I will maintein my Pander, Keep my Hors, and P••nok too; brawl and scuffle, sh••ft and shuffle, Swagger in my Potmeals: Dammes rank with; do mad••ranck with Roaring bores and o••tmeals,

Pox a time, I care not, being past 'tis nothing: I le be free and spare not▪ sorrows are lives 〈◊〉〈◊〉: melancholy is but folly, Mirth and youth are plet••••••. Time go hang thee, I will bang thee, Though I die in co••••ers.

And what think you of this, you old doting ••oth-eaten beard∣ed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as I am Follie by the mothers side, and a time-bred Gentleman, I will sing thee to death, i•• thon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mee; Cannot a man of fashion, for 〈◊〉〈◊〉, put on now and then his

working-day robes of humility, but he must presently be subiect to a Beadles rod of Correction; goe mend thy selfe Caniball, 'tis not without need, I am sure the Times were never more beggerly and proud, waiting-women flant it in Cast-suits, and their Ladies fall for em; knaves over-brave wise men, while wise men ••and with cap and knee to fooles: Pitifull Time! pitifull

Ty.

Out foul, prodigious, and a bortive birth; Behold the sand glasse of thy dayes is broke

Fol.

Bring me another, l'le shatter that too.

Ty.

No; th'ast mispent thy hours, lavish fool, like The circuit of thy life, in ceaselesse riots It is not therefore fit that thou shouldst live In such a Court as the Sunnes Majesty Vouch safes to illuminate with his bright beames.

Fol.

In any Court, father bald-pate, where my granam the Moon shews her hornes, except the Confistory Court, and there she need not appeare; Cuckolds Carry such sharp Stelettoes in their fore-heads, l'le live here and laugh at the bravery of igno∣rance, mauger thy scurvie and abhominable beard.

Ty.

Priest of the Sunne 'tis neere about the minute, thy Patron will descend, scourge hence this trifle; Time is ne're lost, till in the common Schools Ofimpudence, time meets with wilfull fooles.

Exit.

Fol.

Farewell 1538, I might have said five thousand, but the others long enough a Concience to be honest Condition'd, pox on him; it's anotable railing whipper, of a plain Time whipper.

Pre.

You heard the charge he left.

Fol.

I, I, a may give a charge, a has been a petty Court hol∣der ever since he was a minute old, he tooke you for a fore-man of a Jurie

Ray.

Pray sir, what are you?

Fol.

Noe matter what, what are you?

Ray.

Not as you are, I thank my better fates, I am grand child to the Sun.

Fol.

And I am Cosen german, some two or three hundred re∣moves off, to the Moon, and my name is Folly.

Ray,

Folly, sir of what quality?

Fol.

Quality; any quality in fashion: Drinkeing, Whoring, Singing, Dancing, Dicing, Swearing, Roring 〈◊〉〈◊〉 oisting, Lying▪

Cogging, Canting, lcetero, will you have any more.

Ray.

you have a merry heart, if you can guid it.

Fol.

Yes faith; so, so, I laugh not at those whome I feare, I fear not those whom I love, and I love not any whom I laugh not at, ••retty strange humor, is't not?

Ray.

To any one that knowes you not, it is.

Pre.

You must a void.

Enter Recorders.

Fol.

Away away, I have no such meaning indeed-la.

Pre.

Hark the faire hour is com, draw to the Alter, And with a mazement, reverence, and comfort Behold the broad ey'd lamp of heaven descending,—Stand—

The Sunne above.

Fol.

Oh brave!

Pre.

Stand.

SONG.

Glorious and bright, loe here we bend Before thy throne, trembling, attend Thy sacred pleasures, be pleased then To shower thy comforts downe, that men May freely taste in lifes extreams The influence of thy powerf••ll dreams.

Roy.

Let not my fate too swiftly runne, Till thou acknowledge me thy sunne. Oh theres no joy even from the wombe, Of frailty: till we be called home.

Fol.

Now am I an a•••• ant rascall, and cannot speak one word for my selfe, if I were hang'd.

Sun.

Ray-bright.

Pre.

It calles yee, answer.

Ray.

Lord and Father.

Sun.

We know thy cares, appear to give release, Boldly make thy demands, tor we wil please To grant what ere thou saist for▪

Ray.

Fair beam'd sir; I dare not greedily prefer Eternitie of earths delights, Before that dutie which invites My filial pietie, in this Your love shall perfect my hearts bliss;

If I, but for one onely year, Enjoy the several pleasures here, With every season in his kinde, Can bless a mortal with.

Sun.

I finde Thy reason breeds thy appetite, and grant it Thou master'st thy desire, and shall not want it; To the spring garden let him bee convey'd, And entertain'd there by that lovely maid: All the varieties the Spring can shew, Be subject to his will.

Pre.

Lights Lord, wee go.

Fol.

And I will follow, that am not in love with such fop∣peries.

Exit.

Sun.

We must descend, and leav a while our sphere To greet the world—ha, there does now appear A circle in this round, of beams that shine, As if their friendly lights would darken mine: No let em shine out still, for these are they, By whose sweet favors, when our warmths decay, Even in the storms of winter, daily nourish Our active motions, which in Summer flourish By their fair quickning dews of noble loves: Oh may you all like stars, whilst swift time moves, Stand fixt in firmaments of blest contents: Mean while recreations wee present, Shall strive to please; I have the foremost tract; Each season else begins and ends an Act.

Exit.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Spring, Raybright, Youth, Health and Delight.

Spr.

WElcom the mother of the year, the Spring; That mother on whose back age ne're can sit. For age still waits upon her that Spring the Nurse; Whose milk the Summer sucks, and is made wanton.

Physitian to the sick, strength to the sound; By whom all things above, and under-round Are quickned with new heat, fresh blood, brave vigor, That Spring on thy fair cheeks, in kisses laies Ten thonsand welcoms, free as are those raies From vvich thy name thou borrowest: glorious name! Raybright, as bright in person as in 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Ray.

Your eies amaz'd mee first, but ••ow mine ears Feel your tongues charms, in you move all the sphears. Ch Ladie! would the Sun, which gave mee life, Had never sent me to you.

Spr.

Why! all my veins Shrink up, as if cold Winter were com back, And with his frozen beard have numm'd my lips To hear that sigh fly from you.

Ray.

R••und about mee A firmament of such full blessings shine, I in your sphear seem a star more divine Than in my Fathers Chariot; should I ride One year about the world in all his pride.

Sp.

Oh that sweet breath revives mee! if thou never Part'st hence (as part thou shalt not) bee happie ever.

Ray.

I know I shall.

Spr.

Thou to buy, whose state? Kings would lay down their crowns, fresh Youth wait, I charge thee, on my darling.

Tou.

Madam I shall, And on his smoeth check such sweet roses set, You still shall sit to gather then, and when Their colours fade, brave shall spring agen.

Spr.

Thou (without whom they that have hills of gold Are slaves and wretches) Health that canst nor be sold Nor bought, I charge thee make his heart a tower Guarded, for there lies the Springs paramour.

Hea.

One of my hands is writing still in heaven, (For that's Healths librarie) t'other on the earth Is Physicks treasurer, and what wealth those lay Up for my queen, all shall his will obay▪

Ray.

Mortalitie sure falls from me▪

Spr.

Thou! to whose tunes The five nice Sences dance; thou that dost spin Those golden threds all women love to winde, And but for whom, man would cut off mankinde. Delight not base, but noble, touch thy Lire, And fill my Court with brightest Delphick fire.

Del.

Hover, you wing'd Musicians, in the air; Clouds leav your dancing, no windes stir but fair.

Hea.

Leav blustring March—

SONG.

What bird so sings, yet so does wail, 'Tis Philomel the Nightingale; Iugg, Iugg, Iugg, Terue she cries, And hating earth, to heaven she flies—Cuckow. Ha, ha, hark, hark, the Cuckows sing Cuckow, to welcom in the Spring. Brave prick-song; who is't now we hear! 'Tis the Larks silver leer a leer: Chirup the Sparrow flies away; For hee fell too't ere break of day. Ha, ha, hark, hark, the Cuck••ows sing Cuckow, to welcom in the Spring.

Spr.

How does my sun-born sweet-heart like his queen; Her court, her train.

Ray.

Wondrous, such ne're were seen.

Hea.

Fresher and fresher pastimes, one delight Is a di••ease to th'wanton appetite.

Del.

Musick take Ecchoes voice, and dance quick rounds To thine own times in ••epercussive sounds.

Exit.

Eccho of Cornets.

Spr.

Enough? I will not weary thee, pleasures change▪ Thou, as the Sun in a free zodiack range.—

Enter Delight.

Del.

A company of rural fellows, fac'd Like l••vers of your Laws, beg to bee grac'd Before your Highness, to present their sport▪

Spr.

What is't?

Del.

A Morris.

Spr.

Give them our Court:

Stay, these dull birds may make thee stop thine ear, Take thou my lightning, none but Laurel here Shall scape thy blasting; whom thou wilt confound Smite; let those stand, who in thy choice ••it crown'd.

Ray.

Let these then, I may surfet else on sweets. Sound sleeps do not still lie in Princes sheets.

Spr.

Becken the Rurals in, the Country-gray Seldom ploughs treason, shouldst thou be stoln away. By great ones, that's my fear.

Ray.

Fear it not Lady; Should all the worlds black sorceries bee laid To blow mee hence, I move not.

Spr.

I am made

Morris

In that word the earths Empress— Are not these sports too rustick?

Ray.

No; pretty and pleasing.

Spr.

My youngest girl••, the violet-breathing May, Being told by Flora that my love dwelt here, Is com to do you service, will you please To honor her arrival.

Ray.

I shall attend.

Spr.

On them, and bid my rosie-finger'd May Rob hills and dales, with sweets to strow his way.

Morris Exit.

Ray.

An Empre••s, saist thou, faln in love with me.

Fol.

Shee's a great woman, and all great women wish to be Empresses; her name, the Ladie Humor.

Ray.

Strange name, I never saw her, knew her not: What kinde of creature is shee?

Fol.

Creature! of a skin soft as Pomatum, sleek as Jellie, white as blanch'd Almonds; no Mercers wife ever handled yard with a prettier breath; sweet as a Monkies; lips of cherries, teeth of pearle, eies of diamond, foot and leg as—

Ray.

And what's thy name?

Fol.

'Tis but a folly to tell it, my name is Folly.

Ray.

Fumorand Folly; to my listning ear Thy Ladies praises often have been sung, The trumpet sounding forth her graceful beauties. Kindles high flames within me to behold her.

Fol.

Shee's as hot as you for your heart.

Ray.

This Ladie, call'd the Spring, is an odd trifle.

Fol.

A green sickness thing, I came by the way of a hobby∣horse letter of Attorney, sent by my Ladie as a spie to you: Spring a hot Ladie, a few fields and gardens lass, can you feed upon sallets and tanzies, eat like an Asse upon grasse every day at my Ladies, coms to you now a Goose, now a Woodcock, no∣thing but fowl; fowl pies, platters all cover'd with foul, and is not fowl yery good fare?

Ray.

Yea marry is't sir, the fowl being kept clean. My admiration wastes it self in longings To see this rare piece, I'le see her; what are Kings, were not their Pleasures varied; shall not mine then? should day Last ever, 'twould bee loath'd as night. Change is the sawce that sharpens appetite; The way, I'le to her.

Fol.

The way is windie and narrow; for look you, I do but winde this Cornet, and if another answer it, she coms.

Ray.

Be quick then—

Cornets.

Enter Humor, a Souldier, a Spaniard, an Italian Dance, a French Tailor.

Hum.

Is this that slower the Spring so dotes upon?

Fol.

This is that hony-suckle, she sticks in her ruffe.

Hum.

A bedfellow for a Fairie.

Ray.

Admir'd perfection! You let my praises to so high a tune, My merits cannot reach em.

Hum.

My heart-strings shall then, As mine eie gives that sentence on thy person; And never was mine eie a corrupt Judg, That Judg to save thee would condemn a world, And lose mankinde to gain thee; 'tis not the Spring▪ With all her gawdy arbors, nor perfumes Sent up in flattering incense to the Sun, For shooting glames at her, and for sending Whole quires of singers to her every morn, With all her amorous fires, can heat thy bl••od as I can with one kisse.

Ray.

The rose-lipp'd dawning Is not so melting, so delicious.

Turn mee into a bird that I may sit Still singing in such boughs.

Fol.

What bird?

Sol.

A Ring-tayl.

Hu.

Thou shalt be turn'd to nothing but to mine, My Mine of pleasures which no hand shall rifle But this, which in warm Nectar bathes the palm: Invent som other tyres; musick; stay; none

Fol.

Hoy-day.

Hu.

New gowns, fresh fashions, I am not brave enough To make thee wonder at me.

Ray.

Not the Moon Riding at midnight in her cristal Chariot, With all her Courtiers in their robes of stars Is half so glorious.

Hu.

This feather was a bird of Paradice, Shall it bee yours.

Ray.

No Kingdom buies it from mee.

Fol.

Being in fools paradice he must not lose his bawble.

Ray.

I am wrapt.

Fol.

In your mothers smock.

Ra.

I am wrapt above mans being, in being spher'd In such a globe of ••arities, but say Ladie What these are that attend you.

Hu.

All my attendants Shall be to the sworn servants.

Fol.

Follie is sworn to him already, never to leav him.

Ray.

Hee.

Fol.

A French Gentleman that trayls a Spanish pike. A Tailor.

Tay.

Wee Mounsieur, hey nimbla upon de crosse caper, me take a de measure of de body from de top a de noddle to de heel and great toe, oh stish de fine: dis coller is cut out in anger scur∣vie, ohais beeshes pincha de bum, me put one French yard into de toder••ose.

Fol.

N. French yards, they want a yard at least.

Ray.

Shall I bee brave then?

Hu.

Golden as the sun.

R••.

What's hee that looks so smickly?

Fol.

A Flounder in a frying-pan, still skipping, one that loves

mutton so well, he alwaies carries capers about him; his brains lie in his legs, and his legs serve him to no other use then to do tricks, as if he had bought em of a Jugler, hee's an Italian dan∣cer, his name—

Dan.

Signior Lavolta (Messer mio) me tesha all de bella Co∣rantoes, galliardaes, piamettaes, capeorettaes, amorettaes dolche dolche to declamante do bona robaes de Tu••cana.

Ray.

I ne're shall be so nimble.

Fol.

Yes, if you powr quick-silver into your shin-bones, as he does.

Ray.

This now?

Fol.

A most sweet Spaniard.

Spa.

A Confecianador, which in your tongue is, a Comfit∣maker of Toledo, I can teach sugar to slip down your throat a million of waies.

Fol.

And the throat has but one in all, oh Toledo!

Spa.

In Conservs, candies, marmalades, sinkadoes, ponadoes, marablane, Bergamo••u, aranxues muria, lymons, berengenas of Toledo, oriones, potataes of Malag••, and ten millions more.

Fol.

Now 'tis ten millions, a Spaniard can multiply.

Spa.

I am your servidor.

Rey.

My pallate pleas'd to what's this last?

Sol.

I am a Gun that can rore, two stelettoes in one sheath, I can fight and bounce too, my Ladie by mee, pre••ents this sword and belt to you

R••y.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 Mistresse.

Hu.

Put 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on.

Sol.

••le dri•••• you how to give the lie, and stab in the punto, if you dare not ••ight, then how to vamp a rotten quarrel with∣out ado.

Ray▪

How: dare not fight! there's in me the Suns fire.

Hu.

No more of this, dances awake the musick▪ Oyes! Musick!

Ray.

No more of this, this sword arms me for battel.

Hu.

Com then, let th••u and I rise up in arms, The field embraces, kisses our alarms.

Fol.

A dancer and a ••ailor, yet stand still: strike up-Dance.

Enter Spring, Health, Youth, Deligh••••

Spr.

Oh! thou inticing strumpet, how durst thou

Throw thy voluptuous spells about a Temple That's consecrate to me.

Hu.

Poor Spring, goodie herb-wife; How dar'st thou cast a glance on this rich jewel I ha bought for mine own wearing.

Spr.

Bought! art thou sold then?

Ray.

Yes, with her gifts, she buyes me with her graces.

Heal.

Graces! A Witch.

Spr.

What can she give thee.

Ray.

All things.

Spr.

Which I for one bubble cannot add a sea too.

Fol.

And shew him a hobbie-horse in my likeness.

Spr.

My Raybright, hear me; I regard not these.

Ray.

What dowrie can you bring me?

Spr.

Dowrie! ha! is't com to this? am I held poor and base? A girdle make, whose buckles stretch'd toth' length Shall reach from th'artick to th'antartick pole: What ground soever thou canst with that inclose I'le give thee freely, not a Lark that calls The morning up, shall build on any turf But shee shall be thy tenant, call thee Lord, And for her rent pay thee in change of songs.

Ray.

I must turn bird-catcher.

Fol.

Do you think to have him for a song?

Hu.

Live with mee still; and all the measures Plaid to by the spheres, I'le teach thee; Let's but thus dallie, all the pleasures The Moon beholds, her man shall reach thee.

Ray.

Divinest!

Fol.

Here's a Lady.

Spr.

Is't come to who gives most? The self same Bay tree into which was turnd: Peneian Daphne, I have still kept green; That tree shall now be thine, about it sit: All the old poets with fresh Lawrel Crownd, Singing in verse the praise of chastity; Hither when thou shalt come, they all shall rise, Sweet Cantoes of thy love, and mine to sing:

And invoke none but thee as Delian King.

Ray.

Live by singing ballets?

Fol,

Oh! base, turn poet, I would not be one my self.

Hu.

Dwell in mine armes, aloft wee'l hover, And see fields of armies fighting: Oh! part not from mee, I will discover There, all but books of fances writing;

Del.

Not far off stands the Hipocrenian well, Whither i'le leade thee, and but drinking there, To welcome thee, nine Muses shall appear: And with full bowles of knowledge thee inspire.

Ray.

Hang knowledge, drowne your muse.

Fol.

I, ••, or they'l drown themseves in Sack & Claret

Hu.

Do not regard their toyes, Be but my darling, age to free thee From her curse, shall fall a dying; Call me their Empresse; time to see thee Shall for get his art of flying.

Ray.

Oh! my all excellence.

Sp.

Speake thou for me; I am fainting.

Heal.

Leave her, take this and travel, tell the world I'le bring thee in to all the Courts of Kings; Where thou shalt stay, and learn their languages; Kisse Ladies, revell out the nights in dancing: The day, manly pastimes; snatch from time His glas••e, and let the golden sands run forth As thou shalt jogg them, riot it, go brave; Spend halfe a world, my Queen shall beare thee out: Yet all this while, tho thou climb hills of yeares, Shall not one wrinckle sit upon thy brow, Nor any sicknesse shake thee; Youth and Health, As slaves, shall lackie by thy Chariot wheeles; And who, for two such jeweller, would not sell The East, and West Indies; both are thine, so that—

Ray.

What?

Fol.

All lies gallap o're the world, and not grow old, nor be sick; a lie; one gallant went but into France last day, & was never his own man since, another stept but into the low Countries, and

was drunk dead under the table, another did but peep into Eng∣land, and it cost him more in good morrows blowne up to him under his window, by Drums and Trumpets, then his whole voi∣age, besides he run mad upon't.

Hu.

Here's my last farewel, ride a long with me; I'le raise by art, out of b••se earth, a pallace; Whither thy selfe, waving a Christal stream, Shall call together the most glorious spirits Of all the Kings that have been in the world; And they shall come onely to feast with thee.

Ray.

Rare!

Hu.

At one end of this pallace shalbe heard That Musique which gives motion to the Heaven; And in the midle Orpheus shall sit and weep, For sorrow that his Lu••e had not the charmes To bring his faire Euredice from hell; Then at an other end—

Ray.

I'••e hear no more; This ends your strife, you onely I adore.

Sp.

Oh! I am sick at heart; un••hankfull man '••is thou hast wounded mee, farewel, she is led in.

Ray.

Farewell?

Fol.

Health, recover her; sirrah Youth, look to her.

Hea.

That bird that in her nest sleeps out the spring May fly in Summer, but with sickly wing.

Exit.

Ray.

I owe thee for this pill, Doctor.

Hu.

The Spring will Dye sure.

Ray.

Lether?

Hu.

If she does, Folly here is a kind of a foolish poet, And he shall write her Epitaph.

Ray.

Against the morning See it then writ, and I'le reward thee for it.

Fol.

It shall not need.

Ray.

'Tis like it shall not need, this is your Folly,

Hu.

He shall be ever yours.

Fol.

I hope ever to be mine own folly, Hee's one of our fellows.

Hu.

In triumph now I lead thee; no, be thou Cesar, And lead me.

R••y.

Neither; wee'l ride with equall state Both in one Chariot, since we have equall fate▪

Hu.

Each do his office to this man your Lord; For tho Delight, and Youth, and Health should leave him, This Ivory gated pallace shall receive him.

Exit.

Actus Tertius.,

Enter Raybright Melancholy.

Ray.

OH my deer love the Spring, I am cheated of thee; Thou hadst a body the four elements Dwelt never in a fairer; a minde princely? Thy language like thy fingers, Musical. How coole wert thou in anger, in thy dyet How temperate, and yet sumptuous; thou wouldst not waste The waight of a sad violet in excesse; yet still thy board had dishesnumberlesse. Dumbe beasts even lov'd thee; once a young Lark Sate on thy hand, and gazing on thine eyes Mounted and sung, thinking them moving skies—

Enter Follie.

Fol.

I ha don my Lord: my Muse has pump'd hard for an Epitaph upon the late departed Spring, and here her lines spring up.

Ray.

Read.

Fol.

Read; so I will, pleas you to reach mee your high ears.

Here lie's the blith Spring, Who first tanght birds to sing; Yet in April herself fell a crying: Then May growing hot A sweating sickness shee got, And the first of Iune lay a dying. Yet no month can say But her merry daughter May Stuck her Coffin with flowers great plenty. The Cuckow sung in verse An Epitaph o're her herse, But assure you the lines were not dainty.

Ray.

No more are thine, thou Ideot; hast thou none To poison with thy nasti••••iggs but mine, My matchless frame of nature, Creations wonder, Out of my sight.

Fol.

I am not in't, if I were, you'd see but s••urvily; you finde fault as Patron•• do with books, to give nothing.

Ray.

Yes ball'd one, beastly base one, blockish away; Vex me not fool, turn out a doors your rorer, French Tailor, and that Spanish ginger-bread, And your Italian skipper; then sir, your self.

Fol.

My self! Carbonado me, bastinado me, strapado me, hang me, I'le not stir; poor Follie, honest Follie, jocundary Fol∣lie forsake your Lordship; no true Gentleman hates me, and how many women are given daily to me (if I would take em) some not far off know; Tailor gon, Spanish figg gon, all gou but I—

Enter Humor.

Hu.

My waiters coited off by you, you flea them; Whence com these thunder-bolts, what furieshaunt you?

Ray.

You.

Fol.

Shee!

Ray.

Yes, and thou.

Fol.

Baw waw.

Ray.

I shall grow old, diseas'd, and melancholy; For you have robb'd me both of Youth and Health, And that delight my Spring bestow'd upon me: But for you two, I should be wondrous good; By you I have been cozen'd, baffled, and torn From the embracements of the noblest creature.

Hu.

Your Spring.

Ray.

Yes she, even she, onely the Spring: One morning spent with her, was worth ten nights With ten of the prime beauties in the world: She was unhappie never, but in two sons, March a rude roring fool.

Fol.

And April a whining puppie.

Hu.

But May was a fine piece.

Ray.

Mirror of faces.

Fol.

Indeed May was a sweet creature, and yet a great raiser

of May-poles.

Hu.

When will you sing my praises thus?

Ray.

Thy praises, that art a common creature.

Hu.

Common!

Ray.

Yes, common: I cannot passe through any Princes Court, Through any Countrie, Camp, Town, Citie, Village, But up your name is cried, nay curs'd; a vengeance On this your debauch'd Humor.

Fol.

A Vintner spoke those very words last night, to a com∣pany of roring boies, that would not pay their reckoning.

Ray.

How many bastards hast thou?

Hu.

None.

Ray.

'Tis a lie, bee judg by this your squire else.

Fol.

Squire! worshipful M^r Follie.

Ray.

The Courtier has his Humor, has he not Follie?

Fol.

Yes marry has he, follie; the Courtier's humor is to bee brave, and not pay for't; to bee proud, and no man cares for't.

Ray.

Brave Ladies have their humors.

Fol.

Who has to do with that, but brave Lords.

Ray.

Your Citizens have brave humors.

Fol.

Oh! but their wives have tickling humor••.

Hu.

Yet don.

Fol.

Humor Madam, if all are your bastards that are given to humor you, you have a companie of as arrant rascals to your children, as ever went toth' gallows; a Collier being drunk jos∣sell'd a Knight into the kennel, and cry'd 'twas his humor; the Knight broke his coxcomb, and that was his humor.

Ray.

And yet you are not common.

Hu.

No matter what I am: Rail, curse, be frantick, get you to the tomb Of your rare Mistresse; dig up your dead Spring And lie with her, kisse her; me, have you lost▪

Fol.

And I scorn to be found.

Ray.

Stay: must I lose all comfort, dearest s••ay; There's such a deal of magick in those eies, I'm charm'd to kisse these onely.

Fol.

Are you so? kisse on, I'le be kiss'd som where I warrant.

Ray.

I will not leav my Follie for a world.

Fol

Nor I you for ten.

Ray.

Nor thee my love, for worlds pil'd upon worlds.

Hu.

If ever for the Spring you do but sigh, I take my bells.

Fol.

And I my hobby-ho••se,—Will you be merry than, and jawfand.

Ray.

As merry as the Cuckows of the spring,

Fol.

Again.

Ray.

How Ladie, lies the way?

Hu.

I'le be your convoy, And bring you to the Court of the Suns queen, (Summer a glorious and majestick creature) Her face out-shining the poor Springs, as far As a sun-beam doe's a lamp, the moon a star.

Ray.

Such are the spheres I'de move in, attend••: us Follie.

Ext.

Enter Raybright and Humor.

Ray▪

I muse, my nimble Follie staies so long.

Hu.

Hee's quick enough of foot, and counts, I swear) That minute cast away, not spent on you.

Ray.

His companie is musick, next to yours; Both of you are a Consort; and I, your tunes Lull me asleep, and when I most am sad, My sorrows vanish from me in soft dreams: But how far must we travel, is it our motion Puts us in this heat; or is the air In love with us, it clings with such embraces, It keeps us in this warmth,

Hu.

This shews, her Court Is not far off, you covet so to see: Her subjects seldom kindle needlesse fires, The Sun lends them his flames.

Ray.

Has she rare buildings.

Hu.

Magnificent and curious; every noon The horses of the day bait there, whilst he (Who ••n a golden Chariot makes them gallop In twe••ve h••urs o're the world) alights a while, To give a love-kisse to the Summer queen.

Ray.

And shall we have fine sights there?

Hn.

Oh!

Ray.

And hear more ravishing musick?

Bu.

All the quiristers That learn't to sing i'th Temple of the Spring; But her attain such cunning, that when the windes Rore and are mad, and clouds in antick gambols Dance o're our head, their voices have such charms, They'l all stand still to listen—

Ray.

Excellent.

Enter Follie.

Fol.

I sweat like a pamper'd jade of Asia, and drop like a Cob-nut out of Africa—

Enter a Forrester.

For.

Back: whither go you? Oyes! this way.

For.

None must passe: Here's kept no open Court; our Queen this day Rides forth a hunting, and the air being hot, She will not have rude throngs to stifle her—back

Ext.

Enter Summer and Delight.

Sum.

And did break her heart then▪

Del.

Yes with disdain.

Sum.

The heart of my deer mother nurse the Spring, I'le breake his heart for 't•• had she not a face, Too tempting for a Iove.

Del.

The graces sate, On her faire eye-lids ever, but his youth Lusting for change, so doted on a Lady, Phantastick, and yet fair; a peece of wonder: They call her Humor; and her parasite Folly, He cast the sweet Spring off, and ••urn'd us from him; Yet his celestial kinsman, for young Raybright Is the Snns darling: knowing his jorneying hither To see thy glorious Court, sends mee before To attend on you, and spend all my hours In care for him—

Enter Su••. Recorders.

Sum.

Obay your charge—oh thou builder, Of me thy hand maid! Landlord of my life, Life of my love, throne where my glories sit; I ride in trynmph on a silver clowd; Now I but see thee.

Sun.

Rise; is Raybright come yet.

Del.

Not yet.

Sun.

Be you indulgent over him, And lavish thou thy treasure—

Enter Plenty.

Plen.

Our princely Cosen Raybright, Your darling, and the worlds delight, is come.

Sun.

who with them.

Ple.

A goddesse in a woman, attended By a prating sawcie fellow, called Follie.

Sun.

They'l confound him, but he shall run, Go and receive him.

Sun.

Your sparkling eyes, and his arivall, drawes Heapes of admirers; earth it self will sweat To bear our weights; vouchsafe, bright power, to borrow Winds not too rough from Aeolus, to fan Our glowing faces

Sun.

I will: ho Aeolus; Unlock the jayle, and lend a winde or two, To fan my girle the Summer.

Aeo.

I will.

Sun.

No rorers.

Aeo.

No.

Hob••yes,

Sun.

Quickly.

The Sun takes his ••eat above.

Aeo.

Fly you slaves, Summer sweats; cool her.

Enter Summer, Raybright, Humor, Plenty, Folly, Country-••ellows and Wenches.

SONG.

Hay-makers, Rakers, Reapers and Mowers, Waite on your Summer-Queen, Dresse up with Musk-rose her Eglentine bowers, Daffadills strew the greene, Sing dance and play 'Tis Holy day. the Sun does bravely shine on our ears of corn. Rich as a pearle coms every girle, this is mine, this is mine, this is ••ine; Let us die, ere away they be born.

Bow to the Sun, to our Queen, and that fair one com to bebold our sparts, Each bonny lasse here is counted a rare one, as those in Princes Courts. these and wee with Countrie glee will teach the woods to resound, and the hills with eccho's hollow: skipping lambs their bleating dams 'mongst kids shall trip it round, for joy thus our wenches we follow.

Winde, jollie Hunts-men, your neat Bugles shrilly, Hounds make a lustie crie: Spring up, you Faulconers, the Partridges freely, then let your brave H••••ks flie. Horses amain ever ridg, over plain, the Dogs have the Stag in chace; 'tis a sport to content a King. So ho ho, through the skies how the proud bird flies, and sowcing kills with a grace, Now the Deer falls, hark how they ring.—

Sum.

Leav off, the Sun is angry, & has drawn A clowd before his face▪

The Sun by degrees is clowded.

Hu.

He is vex'd to see That proud star shine near you, at whose rising The Spring fell sick and dy'd; think what I told you, His coynes will kill you else.

Sum.

It cannot—fair Prince! Though your illustrious name has touch'd mine ear: Till now I never saw you, nor never saw A man whom I more love, more hate,

Ray.

Ha Ladie!

Sum.

For him I love you, from whose glittering rai••s

You boast your great name, for that name I hate you, Because you kill'd my mother, and my nurse.

Plen.

Kill'd he my grandmother, Plenty will never Hold you byth' hand again.

Sum.

You have free leave To thrust your arm into our treasurie As deep as I my self: Plenty shall wait Still at your elbow, all my sports are yours, Attendants yours, my state and glorie's yours; But these shall be as sun-beams from a glasse Reflected on you, not to give you heat To dote on a smooth face, my spirit's too great,

Exit.

Ray.

Divinest!

Florish

Hu.

Let her go.

Fol.

And I'le go after, for I must and will have a fling at one of her plum-trees.

Ray.

I ne're was scorn'd till now.

Hu.

This is that Alteza, That Rhodian wonder, gaz'd at by the Sun: I fear'd thine eies should have beheld a face, The Moon has not a clearer, this! a dowdie,

Fol.

An Ouzle, this a queen-apple; or a crab she gave you.

Hu.

She bid's you share her treasure, but who keeps it.

Fol.

She point's to trees great with childe with fruit, but when delivered grapes hang in ropes, but no drawing, not a drop of wine: whole ears of corn lay their ears together for bread, but the divel a bit I can touch.

Hu.

Be rul'd by me once more, leave her.

Ray.

In scorn, as he doe's me.

Fol.

Scorn! If I be not deceived, I ha seen Summer go up and down with hot Codlings; and that little baggage, her daughter Plenty, crying six bunches of Raddish for a peny.

Hu.

Thou shalt have nobler welcoms, for I'le bring thee To a brave and bounteous house-keeper, free Autumne.

Fol.

Oh! there's a lad—let's go then.

Plen.

Where's this Prince, my mother; for the Indies Must not have you part—

Ra.

Must not?

Sum.

No; must not. I did but chide thee like a whistling winde Playing with leavie dancers: when I told thee I hated thee, I lied; I doat upon thee. Unlock my garden of th'Helperides, By draggons kept (the Apples beeing pure gold) Take all that fruit, 'tis thin••.

Plen.

Love but my mother, I'le give thee corn enough to feed the world.

Ray.

I need not golden apples, not yourcorn; What land soe're, the worlds surveyor, the Sun Can measure in a day, I dare call mine: All kingdoms I have right to, I am free Of every Countrie; in the four elements I have as deep a share as an Emperor; All beasts whom the earth bears are to serv me, All birds to sing to me, and can you catch me With a tempting golden Apple,

Plen.

Shee'•• too good ••or thee; When she was born, the Sun for joy did rise Before his time, on••ly to kisse those 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Which having touch'd, he stole from them such store O•• ligh••, she shone more bright then e're before: At which he vow'd, when ever thee did die, Hee'd snatch them u••, and in h••s 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sphere Place them, since ••he had no two stars so clear.

Ray.

Let him now sna••ch them up away.

Hu.

Away, and leav this Gipsie.

Sun.

Oh! I am lost.

Ray.

Love scorn'd, of no triumph more then love can boast.

Exit.

Plen.

This strump will confound him.

Recorders.

Sum.

She has me deluded—

Enter Sun.

Sun.

Is Raybright gon.

Sum.

Yes, and his spightful eies Have shot darts through me.

Sun.

I, thy wounds will cure, And lengthen out thy daies, his followers gon▪ Cupid and Fortune take you charge of him.

Here thou, my brightest Queen, must end thy reign, Som nine months hence I'le shine on thee again.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

Enter Pamona, Raybright, Cupid and Fortune.

Ray.

YOur entertainment, Autumns bounteous queen, Have feasted me with rarities as delicate, As the full growth of an abundant year Can ripen to my palate.

Pom.

They are but courtings Of gratitude to our dread Lord the Sun, From whom thou draw'st thy name; the feast of fruits Our gardens yield, are much too course for thee; Could we cont••act the choice of natures plenty Into one form, and that form to contein All delicates, which the wanton sence Would relish: or desire to invent to please it, The present were unworthie far to purchase A sacred league of friendship.

Ray.

I have rioted In ••urfets of the ear, with various musick Of warbling birds; I have smelt perfumes of roses, And every flower with which the fresh-t••im'd earth Is mantled in: the Spring could mock my sences With these fine barren lullabies, the Summer Invited my then ranging eies to look on Large fields of ripen'd corn, presenting trifles Of waterish pettie dainties, but my taste Is onely h••re pleas'd, t'other objects claim The y••e of formal, these are real bounties,

P••m.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 can transcend thy wishes, whom the creatures Of every age and qualitie posts, madding From land to land, and sea to sea to meet, Shall wait upon thy nod, Fortune and Cupid, Love yield thy quiver, and thine arrows up To this great Prince of Time, before him Fortune,

Powr

Powr out thy mint of trea••ures, crown him sovereign Of what his thoughts can glorie to command: He shall give paiment of a roial prize To Fortune, Judgment, and to Cupids eies.

Fort.

Be a Merchant, I will fraight thee With all store that time is bought for.

Cup.

Bee a lover, I will wait thee With successe in life most sought for.

For.

Be enamored on bright honor, And thy greatnesse shall shine glorious.

Cup.

Chastitie, if thou smile on her, Shall grow servile, thou victorious.

Fort.

Be a warrior, conquest ever Shall triumphantly renown thee.

Cup.

Be a Courtier, beauty never Shall but with her duty crown thee.

Fort.

Fortunes wheel is thine, depose me, I'me thy slave, thy power hath bound me.

Cup.

Cupids shafts are thine, dispose me, Love loves love, thy graces wound me.

Fort.

Cup. Live, reign, pi••••e is fames jewel; We obay, oh! be not cruel.

Ray.

You ravish me with infinites, and lay A bountie of more sovereigntie and amazement, Then the Atlas of mortalitie can support—

Enter Humor and Follie

Hu.

Whats here.

Fol.

Nay pray observe.

Ray.

Be my hearts Empresse, build your kingdom there.

Hu.

With what an earnestnesse he complies.

Fol.

Upon my life he means to turn Costermonger, and is pro∣jecting how to forestall the market; I shall cri•• Pippins rarely.

Ray.

Till now, my longings were ne're satisfied, And the desires my sensuall appetite Were onely fed with barren expectations, To what I now am fill'd with.

Fol.

Yes we are fill'd and must be emptied, these wind fruits have

distended my guts into a Lenten pudding, theres no fat in them, my belly swells, but my sides fall away, a month of such diet would make me a living Anatomie.

Po.

These are too little, more are due to him, That is the patternt of his fathers glorie; Dwell but amongst us, industrie shall strive, To make another artificiall nature; And change all other seasons into ours.

Hu.

Shall my heart breake, I can containe no longer.

Ray.

How fares my lov'd Humor?

Hu.

A little stirr'd, no matter, i'le be merry: Call for some Musick, do not; i'le be melancholly.

Fol.

A sullen humor, and common, in a dicer that has lost all his money.

Po.

Lady! I hope 'tis no neglect of Conrtesie In us, that so disturbs you, if it rise From any discontent, reveal the cause, It shall be soone removed.

Hu.

Oh! my heart, helpe to unlace my gowne.

Fol.

And unlace your peticoat.

Hu.

Sawcie, how now! 'tis well you have some sweet heart, some new fresh sweet heart; i'me a goodly foole to be thus plaie•• on, stall'd, and foyl'd.

Po.

Why Madam? We can be courteous without staine of honor; 'Tis not the raging of a lustfull blood That we desire to tame with satisfaction: Nor hath his masculine graces in our brest Kindled a wanton fire, our bounty gives him A welcome free, but chaste and honorable.

Hu.

Nay 'tis all one, I have a tender heart, Come, come, l••••'s drink.

Fol.

A humor in fashion with gallants, and brought out of the low Countries.

Hu.

Fie! there's no musick in thee, let us sing.

Fol.

Here'•• humor in the right trim, a few more such toies would make the little world of man runne mad, as the Puritan that sold his conscience for a May pole—

Florish: showte.

Ray.

The m••aning of this mirth.

Po.

My Lord is coming.

Ray.

Let us attend, to humble our best thanks, For these high favours—

Enter Autumne & Baccanalian, Humor & Follie.

Pom.

My dearest Lord, according to th' injunction Of your command, I have with all observance, Given entertainement to this noble stranger.

Au.

The Sun-born Raybright, minion of my love, Let us be twins in heart, thy grandsires bea••es Shine graciously upon our fruits, and vines: I am his vassail-servant, tributarie: And for his sake, the knigdomes I possesse, I will devide with thee, thou shalt command The Lidian Tmolus, and Campanian mounts, To nodd their grape-crownd heads into thy bowles, Expressing their rich juice: a hundred graines Both from the Beltick and Sicilian fields, Shall be Congested for thy sacrifice 'In Ceres fane, Tiber shall pay thee Apples, And Sicyon Olives, all the Choicest fruits, Thy Fathers heat doth ripen.

Ray.

Make me but treasurer Of your respected favours, and that honor Shall equall my ambition.

Au.

My Pomona, Speed to prepare a banquet of novelties; This is a day of rest, and wo••th whiles, Will sport before our friends, and shorten time With length of wonted revels.

Pom.

I ob•• y: Will't please you Madam, a retirement From these extreames in men, more tollerable, Will better fit our modesties.

Hu.

I'le drink, and be a Bacchanalian; no, I will not;

Enter, i'le follow; s••ay, i'le go before.

Po.

Fe'ne what humor pleaseth.

Exit. Florishes

Au.

Raybright, a health to Phoebus—Drinks. These are the Peans which we sing to him,

And ye wear no baies, our cups are onely Crowned with Lyeus blood, to him a health—

Drinks.

Ray.

I must pledge that too.

Au.

Now one other health To our grand Patron, called, good fellowship; Whose livery, all our people hereabout A••e call'd in.—

Drinks

Ray.

I am for that too.

Au.

'Tis well, let it go round, and as our custome i•• Of recreations of this n••ture, joyne, Your voices, as you drink, in lively notes; Sing Ios unto Baccus.

Fol.

Hey hoes, a god of windes, there's at least four and twenty of them imprisoned in my belly; it I sigh not forth some of them, the rest will break out at the back door; and how sweet the Musick of their roring will be, let an Irishman judge.

Ray.

He is a songster too.

Fol.

A very foolish one; my Musiques naturall, and came by inheritance; my father was a French Nightingall, and my mother an English wagtaile; I was born a Cuckow in the Spring, and lost my voice in Summer, with laying my egges in a sparrowes nest; but I'le venture for one, fill my dish; every one take his own, and when I hold up my finger, off with it.

Au.

Begin.

Fol.

Cast away care, hee that Loves sorrow, Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to morrow: Money is trash, and he that ••ill spend it, let him drink merrily, Fort••ne will send it. Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Ohho. Play it off stiffly, we may not part so: merrily &c.

Wine is a Charme, it heates the blood too, Cowards it will arm, if the wine be good too; quickens the wi••, and makes the back able; scornes to submit to the watch or C••nstable. M••••r••ly, &c.

Pots fly about, give us more Liquor; Brothers of a rowt, our braines will flow quicker; emptie the Cask, score up, wee care not, fill all the Pots again, drink on, and spare not, Merrily, &c.

Now have I more air then ten Musicians, besides there is a whirl∣winde in winde in my brains, I could both caper and turn round.

Au.

Oh! a Dance by all meanes, Now cease your healths, and in an active motion Bestir yee nimbly, to beguile the hours.

Fol.

I am for you in that too, 'twill jogge down the lees of these rowses into a freer passage; but take heed of sure footing, 'tis a slippery season; many men fall by rising, and many women are raised by falling—

Dance

Au.

How likes ••ur friend this pastime?

Ray.

Above utterance, Oh! how have I in ignorance and dullnesse, Run through the progresse of so many minutes; Accusing him, who was my lifes first author, Of slacknesse and neglect, whilst I have dream't The folly of my daies in vaine expence, Of uselesse taste and pleasure; pray my Lord Let one health passe about, whilst I be think me What course I am to take, for being denison In your unlimited courtesies.

Au.

Devise a round, You have your liberty.

Ray.

A health to Autumns selfe. And here let time hold still his restlesse glasse, That not another golden sand may fall To measure how it passeth.

Au.

Continue here with me, and by thy presence Create me favorite to thy faire progenitor; And be mine heire.

Ray.

I want words to expresse my thankfullnesse.

Au.

What ere the wanton Spring, When she doth diaper the ground with beauti••s,

Toils for, comes home to Autumne, Summers sweats ••ither in pasturing her furlongs, reap••ng The cropp of bread, ripening the fruits for food, Autumnes garners house them, Autumnes jollities Feeds on them; I alone in every land Traffique my usefull merchandize, gold and jewells, Lo••dly possessions, are for my commodities Mo••gag'd and los••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Cheefe moderator Between the che••k-parch'd Summer, and th' extreames Of Winters tedious frost; nay, in my selfe I do con••aine another teaming Spring▪ Surety of health prosperity of life Belongs to Autumne, if thou then canst hope T' ••nherit immortality in frailty, live here 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time be spent, yet be not old.

Ray.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Sun, you are the yeers great emperor.

Au.

On now, to new veriety of feasts; Princ••ly contents are fit for princely guest••, Exit—

Ray▪

My Lord I'le follow; sure I am not well.

Florish.

Fol.

Surely I am halfe drunk, or monstrously mistaken, you mean to stay here belike.

Ray.

Whither should I go else?

Fol.

Nay, if you will kill your selfe in your own defence, I'le not be of your Jurie—

Enter Humor.

H••.

You have had precious pleasures, choice of drunkennesse; will you be gon?

Ray.

I feele a warr within me, And every doubt that resolution kills Springs up a greater in the years revolution; There cannot be a season more delicious, When Plenty (Summers daughter) empties daily Her cornucopia, fill'd with choisest viands.

Fol.

Plenties horne is alwaies full in the City.

Ray.

When temperate heat of••ends not with extremes; When day and night have their distinguishment With a more equall measure.

Hu.

Ha! in contemplation.

Fol.

Troubling himself with this windy-gutts; this belly∣aking Autumne; this Apple Iohn Kent, and warden of Fruiterers hall.

Ray.

When the bright Sun, with kindly distant beames guilds ripen'd fruit.

Hu.

And what fine meditation transports you thus, You study some Encomium Upon the beauty of the gardens Queene, You'd make the palenesse to supply the vacancie Of Cinthia's dark defect.

Fol.

Madamllet but a green sicknesse chamber-maid be through∣ly steel'd, if she get not a better color in one month, I'le bee fors••ited to Autumne for ever, and fruite-eate my flesh into a con∣sumption.

Hu.

Come Raybright, whatsoer'e suggestions Have won on thy apt weakenesse, leave th••se empty And hollo•• sounding pleasures, that include Onely a windy substance of delight, Which every 〈◊〉〈◊〉 alters into ayre: I'le stay no longer here.

Ray.

I must.

Hu.

You shall not, These are adulterate mixtures of vain follies; I'le bring thee Into the Court of Winter, there thy food: Shall not be sicklie fruits, but healthfull broathes, Strong meat and dainty.

Fol.

Porke, Beefe, Mutton, (very sweet Mutton, veale Venson, Capon, fine ••at Capon, part••idge, Snite, plover, larkes, Teale admirable Teale, my Lord.

Hu.

Mistery there, like to another nature, Confects the substance of the chois••st fruits, In a rich candy, with such imitation Of forme and colour, 'twill deceive the eye: Untill the taste be ravished.

Fol.

Comfits and Carawaies, Marchpaines and Marmalades Suger-plums and P••ppin-pies, ginger bread and Walnuts

Hu.

Nor is his bounty limited, hee'le not spare

T'exhaust the treasure of a thousand Indies.

Fol.

Two hundred pound suppers, and neither fidlers nor broken glasses reckoned, be••ides, a hundred pound a throw, ten times to∣gether, if you can hold out so long.

Ray.

You tell mee wonders! Be my conductresse, l'le flie this place in secret; Three quarters of my time is almost spent, The last remains to crown my full content. Now if I fail, let man's experience read me; 'Twas Humor, join'd with Follie, did mislead me.

H••.

Leav this naked season, Wherein the very trees shake off their locks, It is so poor and barren.

Fol.

And when the hair fall's off, I have heard a Poet say, 'tis no good sign of a sound bodie.

Ray.

Com let's go taste old Winter's fresh delights, And •• well with pleasures our big appetites. The Summer, Autumne, and the Spring, As 'twere conjoin'd in one conjugal ring; An embleme of four Provinces we sway, Shall all attend our pastimes night and day; Shall both be subject to our glorious state, While wee enjoy the blessings of our fate: And since wee've notice that som barbarous spirits Mean to oppose our entrance, if by words They'l not desist, wee'l force our way with swords.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter three Clowns.

1.

HEar you the news neighbor?

2.

Yes, to my grief neighbor; they say our Prince Ray∣bright is coming hither, with whole troops and trains of Cour∣tiers; wee'r like to have a fine time on't neighbor••.

3.

Our Wives and Daughters are, for they are sure to get by the bargain, tho our barn be emptied, they will be sure to bee with barn for't: Oh! these Courtiers, neighbors, are pesti••ent

knaves; but ere l'le suffer it, l'le pluck a Crow with som of em.

1.

Faith neighbor let's lay our heads together, and resolve to die like men, rather then live like beasts.

2.

I, like horn-beasts, neighbor; they may talk and call us Rebells, but a figg for that, 'tis not a fart matter; let's be true amongst our selvs, and with our swords in hand resist his en∣trance—

Enter Winter.

Wint.

What such murmurings does your gall bring ••orth, Will you prov't true, no good coms from the North; Bold sawcie mortals, dare you then aspire With snow and ice to quench the sphere o•• fire: Are your hear••s frozen like your clime, from thence All temperate heat's fled of obedience: How durst you else with force think to withstand Your Princes entrie into this his land; A Prince who is so exc••ll••ntly good, His virt••e is his honor, more then blood; In whose clear natu••e, as two ••uns, do rise The attributes of Merciful, and Wise: Whose laws are so impartial, they must Be counted heavenly, cause th'are truly just: Who does with princely moderation give His subj••cts an example how to live; Teaching their erring natures to direct Their wills, to what it ought most to affect: That as the Sun does unto all dispence Heat, light, nay life from his full influence, Yet you wilde fools, possest with gyant rage, Dare, in your lawlesse furie, think to wage War against heaven, and from his shining throne Pull Iove himself, for you to tread upon; Were your head•• circled with his own green Oak, Yet are they subject to his thunder-stroak; And he can sink such wretches as rebell, From heaven's sublime height, into the depth of hell.

1.

The divel a can as soon, we fear no colors, let him do his worst; there's many a tall fellow besides us, will die rather then see his living taken from them, nay even eat up; all things are

grown so dear, there's no ••nduring more mouths then our own, neighbor.

2.

Thou'rt a wise fellow, neighbor, prate is but prate; they say this Prince too would bring new laws upon us, new rights into the Temples of ••ur gods, and that's abominable, wee'l all bee hang'd first—

Wint.

A most fair prete••ce, To found rebellion upon conscience; Dull stubborn fools, whose perverse judgments still Are gov••rn'd by the malice of your will, Not by indifferent ••eason, which to you Coms, as in droughs ••he elemental dew Does on the parch'd earth, 'twets, but does not give Moisture enou••h to ma••e the plants to live: Things void of soul, can you conceive that he, Who••e every thought's an act of pietie, Who's all religious, furnish'd with all good That ever was compris'd in flesh and blood, Cannot direct you in the fi••••est way To serv those powers, to which himself does pay True zealous worship▪ nay's so near ally'd To them, himself must needs be deified—

Enter Follie.

Fol.

Save you Gentlemen! '••is very cold, you live in frost, y'ave Winter still about you.

2.

What are you sir?

Fol.

A Courtier sir; but you may gue••••••, a very ••oolish one, to leav the bright beams of my Lord, the Prince, to travel hither; I have an Ague on me, do you not see me shake: Well, if our Courtiers, when th••y com hither, have not warm young wenches, good wines, and fires to heat their bloods, 'twill fre••z into an A∣popl••xie; farewell frost, l'le go seek a fire to thaw me, l'me all ice I fear already.

Exit.

1.

Farewel and be hang'd, ere such as these shall eat what we have ••weat for, wee'l spend our bloods; com neighbors, let's go call our company together, and go meet this Prince he talks so of.

3.

Som shall have but a sowr welcom of it, if my Crab •• tree cudgel hold here.

Wint.

'Tis, I see, Not in my power to alter destinie: You'r mad in your rebellious mindes, but hear What I presage, with understanding clear: As your black thoughts are mistie, take from me This as a true and certain augurie, This Prince shall com, and by his glorious side Lawrel-crown'd conquest shall in triumph ride, Arm'd with the justice that attend's his cause, You shall with penitence embrace his laws: Hee to the frozen northern clime shall bring A warmth so temperate, as shall force the Spring Usurp my privilege, and by his Ray Nigh•• shall bee chang'd into perpetual day. Plentie and happinesse shall still increase, As do••s his light, and Turtle-fo••t••d Peace Dance like a Fairie through his realms, while all That envie him shall like swift Comets fall, By their own fire consum'd, and glorious he Ruling, as 'twere, the force of destinie, Shall have a long and prosperous reign on earth, Then flie to heaven, and give a new star birth.

Florish.

Enter Raybright, Humor, Bountie, Winter and Delight.

But se••, our star appea••'••, and ••rom his eie Flie thousand beams of sparkling majestie. Bright son of Phebus! welcom, I begin To feel the ice fal from my cris••ed skin; For at your beams the Waggoner might thow His Chariot, axell'd with Rephean snow; Nay, the slow moving North-star having felt Your temperate heat, his i••icles would melt.

Ray.

What bold rebellious Catives dare disturb The happie progresse of our glorious peace▪ Contemne the Justice of ou•• equall lawes, Prophane those sacred rights, which stil must bee Attendant on monarchall dignitie. I came to frolick with you, and to chear Your drouping soules by vigor of my beams;

And have I this strange welcom! reverend Winter! I'me come to be your guest; your bounteous free Condition does assure, I shall have A welcom entertainment.

Win.

Illustrious sir! I am ignorant How much expression my true zeale will want To entertain you fitlie, yet my love, And hartie dutie, shall be farr above My outward welcome, to that glorious ligh•• Of heaven, the Sunne which cha••es hence the night; I am so much a vastaile, that I'le strive, By honoring you, to keep my faith alive To him, brave Prince, tho you, who do inherit Your fathers cheerefull heat, and quickning spirit; Therefore as I am Winter, wo••ne and spent So farre with age, I am Tymes monument; Antiquities example, in my zeale, I, from my youth, a ••pan of Tyme will steale To open the free treasures of my Court, And swell your soul with my delights and sport.

Ray.

Never till now Did admiration beget in me truly The rare match'd twins at once, pittie and pleasure; So royall, so aboundant in earth's blessings, Should not partake the comfort of those beames, With which the Sun beyond extent doth cheere The other seasons, yet my pleasures with you, From their false charmes, doth get the start as farr As heaven's great lamp from every minor starr.

Boun.

Sir! you can speak wel, if your tongue deliver The message of your heart, without some cu••ing Of restraint, we may hope t•• enjoy The lasting riches of your presence hence, Without distrust or change

Ray.

Winters sweet bride, All Conquering Bounty, queen of harts, life's glory, Natures perfection; whom all love, all serve; To whom Fortune, even in extreame's a slave,

When I fall from my dutie to thy goodness, Then let me be ranck'd as nothing.

Boun.

Come you, flatter mee.

Ray.

I flatter you! Why Madam? you are Bounty; Sole daughter to the royall throne of peace.

Hu.

He minds not mee now.

Ray.

Bounties self! For you he is no souldier dares not fight, No Scholar he, that dares not plead your merites, Or study your best Sweetness, should the Sun, Eclips'd for many yeares, forbeare to shine Upon the bosome of our naked pastures, Yet where you are, the glories of your smiles would warm the barren grounds, arm hartless misery, And cherish desolation. Deed I honor you, And as all others ought to do, I serve you▪

Hu.

Are these the rare sights, these the promis'd Complements.

Win.

Attendance on our revells, let delight C••njoyn the day with sable-footed night; Both shall forsake their orbes, and in one sphere Meet in soft mirth, and harmlesse pleasures here; While plump Lyeus shall, with garland crown'd Of triumph-Ivie, in full cups abound Of Cretan wine, and shall dame Ceres call To waite on you, at Winters festivall: While gawdy Summer, Autumne, and the Springe, Shall to my Lord their Choycest viands bring. Wee'l robb the sea, and from the subtill ayre, Fetch her inhabitant, to supply our fare. That were Apecious here, he in one night Should sate with danties his strong appetite. Begin our revells then, and let all pleasure Flow like the Ocean, in a boundlesse measure—

Florish.

Enter Conceit, and Detraction.

Con.

Wit and pleasure soft attention, Grace the sports of our invention.

De.

Conceit peace, for Detraction Hath already drawn a faction, Shall deride thee.

Con.

Antick leave me; For in laboring to bereave me

Of a sch••lars praise, thy dotag:—Shall be hist at.

De.

Here's a hot age; When such pettie p••nmen covet Fame by folly, on, l'le prove it Scurvi•• by thy par••, and trie thee By thine owne wit.

Con.

I defie thee, Here are nobler Judges, wit Cannot suffer where ••hey sit.

De.

Pri'thee foolish Conceit, leave off thy set-spe••ches, and come to the conceit if selfe in plain languages; what goodly thing is't, in the name of laughter?

Con.

Detraction doe thy worste, Conceit appears, In honour of the Sunne, their fellow-friend, Before thy censure; know then that the spheres, Have for a while resigned their orbes, and lend Their seats to the Four Elements, who joyn'd With the Four known Complexions, have atton'd A noble I ague, and severally put on Materiall bodies; he••e amongestem none Observes a difference; Earth and Ayre alike Are sprightly active; Fire and Water seek No glory of preheminence; Phlegm and Blood, Choler and Melancholy, who have stood In c••ntrari••ties, now meet for pleasure, To enterain Time in a courtly measure.

De.

Imposs••ble and inproper; first to personate insensible C••eatures, and next to compound quite opposite humors; fie, fie, fie, i'••s abo••inable.

Con.

Fond ignorance! how darest thou vainly scan Imp••ssibility; what reignes in man Without disorder; wisely mixt by nature,

Maskers.

To fashion and preserve so high a creature.

De.

Sweete sir! when shall our mortall eyes behold this new pe••ce of wonder; We must gaze on the starres for it doubtlesse,

Con.

See, thus the cl••uds flie off, and run in chase,

The Maskers discover'd.

When the Sun's bountie lends peculiar grace.

De.

Fine ifaith; pretty, and in good earnest; but sirrah scholar; will they come down too?

Con.

Behold em well, the foremost represents Ayr, the most sportive of the Elements,

De.

Animble rascall, I warrant him some Aldermans son; wonderous giddy and light-headed; one that blew his patri∣mony away in feather and Tobacco.

Con.

The next near him is Fire.

Det.

A cholerick gentleman, I should know him, a younger brother and a great spender, but seldom or never carries any mo∣ney about him; he was begot when the sign was in Taurus, for a rores like a Bull, But is indeed a Bell-weather.

Con.

The third in rank is Water.

Det.

A phlegmatick cold piece of stuff, his father me thinks should be one of the Dunce-table, and one that never drunk strong beer in's life but at festival times, and then he caught the heart-burning a whole vacation and half a Term after.

Con.

The fourth is Earth.

Det.

A shrewd plodding-pated fellow, and a great lover of news; I guesse at the rest, Blood is placed near Air, Choler near Fire, Phlegme and Water are sworn brothers, and so are Earth and Melancholie.

Con.

Fair nymph of Harmonie, be it thy task To sing them down, and rank them in a mask.—

SONG.

See the Elements conspire, Nimble Air doe's court the Earth, Water doe's commix with Fire, To give our Princes pleasure birth; Each delight, each joy, each sweet, In one composition meet. All the seasons of the year, Winter doe's invoke the Spring, Summer doe's in pride appear, Autumn forth its fruits doth bring, And with ••mulation pay Their tribute to this Holy-day; In which the Darling of the Sun is ••om, To make this place a new Elifium.

Wint.

How do these pleasures please?

Hu.

Pleasures!

Boun.

Live her••, And be my Lord's friend, and thy sports shall vary A thousand waies, invention shall b••get Conceits as curious ••s the thoughts of chang•• Can aim at.

Hu.

Trifles: progresse o're the year Again my Raybright, therein like the Sun, As he in heaven runs his circular course, So thou on earth run thine, for to be fed With stale delights, breeds dulnesse and contempt; Think on the Sp••ing.

Ray.

She was a lovely Virgin.

Wint.

My roial Lord! Without offence, be pleas'd but to afford Me give yo•• my true figure, do not scorn My age, nor think, cause I appear forlorn, I serve for no use, 'tis my sharper breath Doe's purge grosse exhalations from the earth; My frosts and snows do purifie the air From choking foggs, makes the skie clear and fair: And though by nature cold and chill I be, Yet I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 warm in bounteous charitie; And can, my Lord, by grave and sage advice, Bring you toth' happie shades of Paradice.

Ray.

••hat wonder; Oh! can you ••bring me thither?

Wint.

I can direct and point you out a path

Hu.

But where's the guide? Quicken thy spirits, Raybright, I'le not leav thee, Wee'l run the self same race again, that happinesse These lazie, sleeping, tedious winters nights Becom not noble action.

Ray

To the Spring

Recorders.

I am resolv'd—Oh! what strange light appears; The Sun is up sure.

The Sun above.

Sun.

Wanton Darling look, and worship with amazement. Oes! gracious Lord.

Sun.

Thy sands are numbred, and thy glasse of frailtie 〈…〉〈…〉 out to the last: here in this mirror Le•• man behold the circuit of his fortunes; The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the Spring dawns like the Morning, Bedewing Childhood with unrelish'd beauties Of gawdie sights; the Summer, as the Noon, Shines in delight of Youth, and ripens strength To Autumns Manhood, here the Evening grows, And knits up all felicitie in follie; W••nter at last draws on the Night of Age; Yet still a humor of som novel fancie Untasted, or untry'd, puts off the minute Of resolution, which should bid farewel To a vain world of wearinesse and sorrows. The powers from whom man do's derive his pedigree Of his creation, with a roial bountie Give him heal••h, youth, delight for free attendants To rectifie his carriage: to be thankful Again to them, Man should casheer his riots, His bosom whorish sweet-heart, idle Humor; His Reasons dangerous seducer, Follie; then shall Like four streight pillars, the four Elements Support the goodly structure of mortalitie; Then shall the four Compl••xions, like four heads Of a clear river, streaming in his bodie, Nourish and comfort every vein and sinew. No sicknesse of contagion, no grim death Of deprivation of h••alths real blessings Shall then affright the creature built by heaven, Reserv'd to immortalitie, henceforth In peace go to our Altars, and no more Question the power of supernal greatnesse, But give us leav to govern as w••e please Nature, and her dominion, who from us, And from our gracious influence, hath both being And preservati••n; no replies but reverence. Man hath a double guard, if time can win him; Heavens power above him, his own peace within him.

FINIS.