Poems: by Francis Beaumont, Gent.: Viz. The hermaphrodite. The remedy of love. Elegies. Sonnets, with other poems.

A Maske of the Gentlemen of Graies Inne, and the Inner Temple, by Mr Francis Beaumont.

Enter Iris Running, Mercury following and Catching hold of her.

Mercury.

STay light-foot Iris, for thou striv'st in vaine, My Wings are nimbler than thy feet; Iris away, Dissembling Mercury my Messages Aske honest haste, not like those wanton ones Your thundring Father sends.

Mer.

Stay foolish Maid, Or I will take my rise upon a hill When I perceive thee seated in a Cloud In all the Painted Glory that thou hast, And never cease to clap my willing wing, Till I catch hold on thy discolour'd bow, And shiver it beyond the Angry power Of your mad Mistris to make up againe.

Iris.

Hermes forbeare, Juno will chide and strike; Is great Jove jealous that I am imployed? Or her love Errands she did never yet Claspe weak Mortality in her white Armes As he hath often done; I only come

To celebrate the long-wish'd nuptials Here in Olympia, which are now perform'd Betwixt two goodly Rivers that have mix'd Their gentle winding waves, and are to grow Into a thousand streames, great as themselves: I need not name them, for the sound is loud In Heaven and Earth, and I am sent from her, The Queene of marriage, that was present here, And smil'd to see them joyne, and hath not chid Since it was done; God Hermes let me go.

Mer.

Nay you must stay, Joves Message is the same, Whose eyes are Lightning, and whose voice is Thunder, Whose breath is Airy wind, he will, who knowes How to be first in Earth as well as Heaven.

Iris.

But what hath he to do with Nuptiall rites? Let him sit pleas'd upon his starry Throne, And fright poore Mortals with his Thunder-bolts, Leaving to us the mutuall darts of Eyes.

Mer.

Alas, when ever offer'd he t' abridge Your Ladies power, but only now in these, Whose match concernes the generall Government: Hath not each God a part in these high joyes? And shall not he the King of gods presume Without proud Juno's Lycence? let her know, That when enamour'd Jove first gave her power To linke soft hearts in undissolving bands, He then foresaw, and to himselfe reserv'd The honour of this Marriage; thou shalt stand Still as a Rock, while I to blesse this Feast, Will summon up with my all-charming Rod The Nymphs of Fountaines, from whose watry locks (Hung with the dew of blessing and encrease) The greedy Rivers take their nourishment. Yea Nymphs who bathing in your lov'd springs,

Behold these Rivers in their infancy, And joy'd to see them when their circled heads Refresh'd the Aire, and spread the ground with flowers; Rise from the wels, and with your nimble feet Performe that office to this happy paire Which in these Plaines you to Alpheus did, When, passing hence through many seas unmix'd, He gain'd the favour of his Aretheuse.

The Nymphs rise and dance a little and then make a stand.

Iris.

Is Hermes grown a Lover? by what power Unknown to us cals he the maids?

Mer.

Presuptuous Iris, I could make thee dance, Till thou forget'st thy Ladies messages, And runn'st back crying to her: thou shalt know My power is more, only my breath and this Shall move fix'd stars, and force the firmament To yield the Hyades, who governe showers, And dewy Clouds, in whose dispersed drops Thou form'st the shape of thy deceitfull bow; Ye maids, who yearely at appointed times Advance with kindly teares the gentle flouds, Descend and powre your blessing on these streames, Which rouling down from Heaven, aspiring hils, And now united in the fruitfull Vales, Beare all before them, ravish with their joy, And swell in glory till they know no bounds.

The Cloud descends with the Hyades, at which the maids seeme to be rejoyced, they all dance a while together, then make another stand as if they wanted something.

Iris.

Great wit and power hath Hermes to contrive A lively Dance which of one Sex consists.

Mer.

Alas poore Iris, Venus hath in store

A secret Ambush of her winged boyes, Who lurking long within these pleasant Groves, First stuck these flowers with their equall Darts; Those Cupids shall come forth and joyne with these, To honour that which they themselves began.

The Cupids come forth and dance, they are weary with their blind pursuing the Nymphs, and the Nymphs weary with flying them.

Iris.

Behold the statues which wise Vulcan plac'd Under the Altar of Olympian Jove, And gave to them an Artificiall life; See how they move, drawn by this heavenly joy, Like the wild Trees which followed Orphaeus harpe.

The Statues come down, and they all dance till the Nymphs out-run them and lose them, then the Cupids go off, and last the Statues.

Mer.

And what will Juno's Iris do for her?

Iris.

Just match this shew or mine inventions faile; Had it been worthier, I would have invok'd The blazing Comets, Clouds, and falling stars, And all my Kindred, Meteors of the aire, To have excelled it, but I now must strive To imitate confusion; therefore thou Delightfull Flora, if thou ever felt'st Increase of sweetnesse in those blooming plants On which the hornes of my faire Bow decline, Send hither all that rurall company Which deck the maygames with their clownish sports, Juno will have it so.

The second Antimasque rusheth in, they dance their measure, and as rudely depart.

Mer.

Iris we strive Like winds at liberty, who should do worst E're we returne if Juno be the Queen Of marriages, let her give happy way To what is done in honour of the State She governs.

Iris.

Hermes so it may be done Meerly in honour of the State, and those That now have prov'd it; not to satisfie The Lust of Jupiter in having thanks More than his Juno, if thy snaky rod Have power to search the heaven, or sound the sea, Or call together all the buds of earth, To bring thee any thing that may do grace To us, and these, do it we shall be pleas'd; They know that from the mouth of Jove himselfe, Whose words have winks, and need not to be borne, I took a Message, and I bore it through A thousand yeelding Clouds, and never staid Till his high will was done. The Olympian games Which long had slept at these wish'd Nuptials He pleas'd to have renewed, and all his Knights Are gathered hither, who within their Tents Rest on this hill, upon whose rising head

The Alter is discovered, with the Priests about it, and the Statues under it, and the Knights lying in their Tents on each side neere the top of the hill.

Behold Joves Altar and his blessed Priests

Moving about it; come you holy men, And with your voices draw these youths along, That till Joves musick call them to their games, Their Active sports may give a blest content To those for whom they are againe begun.

The first Song when the Priests de∣scend, and the Knights follow them.

SHake off your heavy trance And leape into a Dance, Such as no Mortals use to tread, Fit only for Apollo To play to, for the Moon to lead, And all the stars to follow.

The second Song at the end of the first Dance.

ON blessed Youths, for Jove doth pause, Laying aside his graver Laws For this device: And at the wedding such a paire Each Dance is taken for a prayer, Each Song a Sacrifice.

The third Song after their many Dances, when they are to take the Ladies single.

MOre pleasing were these sweet delights, If Ladies mov'd as well as Knights; Run every one of you and catch A Nymph in honour of this match, And whisper boldly in her eare, Jove will but laugh if you forsweare.

All.

And this daies sins he doth resolve, That we his Priests should all absolve.

The fourth Song when they have parted with the Ladies, a shrill Musique sounds, supposed to be that which cals them to the Olympian Games, at which they all make a seeming pre∣paration to depart.

YOu should stay longer, if we durst, Away, alas, that he that first

Gave time wild Wings to fly away, Has now no power to make him stay; And though these games must needs be played, I would these paire when they are layed, And not a Creature nigh 'em, Might catch his sigh as he doth passe, And clip his wings, and breake his glasse, And keep 'em ever by 'em.

The fifth Song when all is done as they ascend.

PEace and silence be the guide To the Man, and to the Bride: If there be a joy yet new In marriage, let it fall on you, That all the world may wonder: If we should stay we should do worse, And turne our blessings to a Curse, By keeping you asunder.