Now, Wernock, shalt thou see (so mote I thee) (Faire fall my swinck) as this so nice, and free, owe. So fares it in calme seasons with curst men ; gaines Or seld they should possessen what they ought. Ynough is me to chaunten swoote my songs, WERNOCK. Thou needst not, Willie; wretch were I to laude THE INNER TEMPLE MASQUE. WRITTEN BY W. BROWNE. Non semper Gnosius arcus Destinat, exemplo sed laxat cornua nervo. Ovid. ad Pisonem. TO THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF THE INNER TEMPLE. I GIVE YOU but your owne: if you refuse to foster it, I knowe not who will: by your meanes it may live. If it degenerate in kinde from those other the society hath produced, blame yourselves for I knowe it is not not seeking a happier Muse. without faultes, yet such as your loves, or at least poetica licentia (the common salve) will make tolerable: what is good in it, that is yours; what bad, myne; what indifferent, both; and that will suffice, since it was done to please ourselves in private, by him that is all yours, W. BROWNE. THE DESCRIPTION OF THE FIRST SCENE. On one side the hall, towardes the lower end, was discovered a cliffe of the sea, done over in part white, according to that of Virgil, lib. 5. Jamque adeo scopulos Syrenum advecta subibat Difficiles quondam multorumque ossibus albos. Upon it were seated two Syrens, as they are described by Hyginus and Servius, with their upper parts like women to the navell, and the rest like a hen. One of these, at the first discovery of the scene, (a sea being done in perspective on one side the cliffe) began to sing this songe, beinge as lascivious and proper to them, and beginninge as that of theirs in Hom. lib. μ. Οδ. Δενρ ̓ ἄγ ἴων πὰλυαιν Οδυσευ μέγα κύδος Αχαιων. Your sweetest tunes but grones of mandrakes be; At the end of this songe Circe was seene upon the He his owne traytor is that heareth thee. rocke, quaintly attyred, her haire loose about Tethys commands, nor is it fit that you ber shoulders, an anadem of Mowers on her Should ever glory you did him subdue head, with a wand in her hand, and then makBy wyles, whose pollicyes were never spread ing towardes the Syrens, called them thence 'Till flaming Troy gave light to have them read. with this speech : Ulysses now furrowes the liquid plaine, Doubtfull of seeing Ithaca againe, Syrens, ynongh! cease; Circe hath prevail'd, For in his way more stops are thrust by time, The Greeks, which on the dauncinge billowrs sayld, Than in the path where vertue comes to climbe: About whose shippes a hundred dolphins clunge, She that with silver springs for ever fills Wrapt with the musicke of Ulysses' tongne, The shady groves, sweet meddowes, and the hills, Have with their guide, by powerfull Circe's hand, Cast their hook'd auchors on Æva's strand. Yonde stands a hille crown'd with high wavinge (sees, "Tis she whose favour to this Grecian tends, And to remove bis ruine Triton sends. Whose gallant toppes each neighb'ringe countrye Under whose shade an hundred Sylvans playe, SYRON With gaudy nymphes farre fairer than the daye ; But'tis not Tethys, nor a greater powre, [hour) where everlastinge springe with silver showres Cynthia, that rules the waves; scarce he (each Sweet roses doih increase to grace our bowres ; That wields the thunderboites, can thinges begun Where lavish Flora, prodigall in pride, By mighty Circe (daughter to the Sun) Spends what might well enrich all earth beside, Checke or controule ; she that by charmes can And to adorue this place she loves so deare, The scaled fish to leave the brinye lake; (make Stays in some climates scarcely halfe the yeare. And on the seas walke as on land she were ; When, would she to the world indifferent bee, She that can pull the pale Moone from her spheare, They should continuall Aprill have as we. And at mid-day the world's all glorious eye Muffle with cloudes in longe obscuritie; Midway the wood, and from the level'd lands, She that can cold December set on fire, A spatious, yet a curious arbour standes, Wherein should Phæbus once to pry beginne, And from the grave bodyes with life inspire; I would bepight him 'ere he grite his inne, Or turne his steedes awry, so drawe him on To burne all landes but this, like Phaëton. And forc'd brave rivers to run retrograde; Ulysses neare his mates, by my strange charmes, She, without stories, that sturdy oakes can tare, Lyes there till my returne in sleepe's soft armes : And turne their rootes where late their curl'd Then, Syrens, quickly wend me to the bow re, toppes were, To fitte their welcome, aud show Circe's powre. She that can with the winter solstice bringe All Flora's daintyes, Circe bids me singe ; Add till some greater band her pow're can staye, What all the elements doe ove to thee, Who'ere coinmand, I none but her obeye. In their obedience is performi'd in me. SYREN. TRITON. SYREN. SYREN, Vaine was thy message, vaine her haste, for I Here she went on with her song thus : Where never stormes arise, For starres gaze on our eyes. We will not misse While Circe was speakinge her first speech, and at these words, “ Yond stands a hill," &c. a THE SONGE IN THE WOOD. Nought but love. All delighte. CHORUS. CIRCE. THE CHARME. What doth each wynd breathe us that feetes? I tyn'd the firebrande that (beside thy flight) Left Polyphemus in eternall nighte; Safe from the man-devouring Læstrygon. This for Ulysses' love hath Circe done, The sable vale that bides the gladsome daye. And better stille, those we enjoyed laste. By this time Circe and the Syrens being come into To instance what I canne: Musicke, thy voyce, the wood, Ulysses was seene lying as asleep, under And of all those have felt our wrath, the choyce the couverte of a faire tree, towardes whom Appeare; and in a dance 'gin that delight Circe coming, bespake thus. Which with the minutes shall growe infinite. Here one attir'd like a woodman, in all poyntes, Yet holdes soft sleepe his course. Now Ithacus, came forth of the wood, and, going towards Ajax would offer hecatombes to us, the stage, sunge this songe to call away the And Ilium's ravish'd wifes, and childlesse sires, Antimasque. SONGE? The whittoll too, with asse's eares; Let the wolfe leave howlinge, And powerfull verses, thus I banish sleepe. The baboone his scowlinge, And grillus bye Out of his stye. Though gruntinge, though barkinge, though bray- inge yee come. [home. Than the batte, and sullen owle. We'ele make yee daunce quiet, and so send yee Where upon the lymber grasse, Nor ginne shall snare you, Nor inastive scare you Nor learne the baboone's trickes, Nor grillus' seoffe, From the hogge troughe, But turne againe unto the thickes. Here's none ('tis hop'd) so foolish, scornes That any els should weare the hornes. Here's no curre with howlinge, Nor an ape with scowlinge, Shall mocke or moe At what you showe. In jumpinge, in skippinge, in turninge, or oughte You shall doe to please us how well or bow noughte. Ulysses (as by the powre of Circe) awakinge, thus If there be any began : Amonge this many, Whom such an humour steares, May he still lye, In Grillus' stye, Or weare for ever the asse's eares. The seate of Dis; and from Averons' lake While the first staffe of this songe was singinge, Grim Hecate with all the Furyes bringe, out of the thickets on eyther side of the passage To worke revenge ; or to thy questioninge came rushing the Antimasque, being such as by Disclose the secretes of th' infernall shades, Circe, were supposed to have beene transformed Or raise the ghostes that walke the under-glades. (havinge the mindes of men still) into these To thee, whom all obey, Ulysses bendes, shapes followinge: Bat may I aske (greate Circe) whereto tendes Thy never-failinge handes? Shall we be free? Two with heartes, heades, and bodyes, as Actaon Or must thyne anger crush my mates and me? is pictur’d. Two like Midas, with asses' eares. Two like wolves, as Lycaon is drawne. Neyther, Laertes' sonne, with winges of love, Two like baboons. To thee, and none but thee, my actions move. Grillus (of whom Plutarche writes in his morralles) My arte went with thee, and thou me may'st in the shape of a hogge. thanke, In winnioge Rhesus' horses, e're they dranke These together dancinge an antique measure, to. Of Xanthus' streame; and when with human gore, wardes the latter end of it missed Grillus, who Cleare Hebrus' channell was all stained 'ore ; When some brave Greeks, companions then with 2 The musicke was composed of treble violins, thee, with all the inward parts, a base violle, base lute, Forgot their country through the lotos tree; sagbut, cornamute, and a tabour and pipe. ULYSSES. CIRCE. was newly slipte away, and whilst they were | Let wise Ulysses judge. Some I confesse, at a stand, wond'ringe what was become of him, the woodman stepte forth and sunge this Much like to one Who in a shipwracke being cast upon CIRCE. In this, as lyllies, or the new-falne snowe, Things farre off seen seem not the same they are, For still where envy meeteth a reporte, Ill she makes worse, and what is good come shorte. Ovid. Metam. lib. 14. That tow'rds this isle not long since did addresse CIRCE. Swifter the lightninge comes not from above, SONGE. CIRCE bids you come awaye. ЕССНО. Come awaye, come awaye. From the rivers, from the sea. ECCHO. From the sea, from the sea. From the greene woods every one. ECCHO. Missinge none, missingė none. No longer stay, except it be to bringe A med'cine for love's stinge. That would excuse you, and be held more deare, Than wit or magicke, for both they are here. EсCHO. They are here, they are here. The Eccho had no sooner answered to the last line of the songe, They are here, but the second Antimasque came in, being seven uymphs, and were thus attir'd: Foure in white taffita robes, long trèsses, and chaplets of flowers, herbs, and weeds on their heads, with little wicker baskets in their handes, neatly painted. These were supposed to be maides attending upon Circe, and used in gatheringe simples for their mistress's inchantments.(Pausanias in prioribus Eliacis.) Three in sea greene robes, greenish haire hanging loose, with leaves of corall and shells intermixt upon it. These are by Ovid affirmed to helpe the nymphs of Circe in their collections". SONGL. ULYSSES. These havinge danced a most curious measure to a softer tune than the first Antimasque, as most Shake off sleepe, ye worthy knights, fitting, returned as they came; the Nereides Though ye dreame of all delights ; towardes the cliffes, and the other maides of Show that Venus doth resorte Circe to the woods and plaines. After which To the campe as well as courte. Ulysses, thus : By some well timed measure, And on your gestures and your paces, Fame addes not to thy joyes, I see in this, Let the well-composed graces, Rut like a high and stately Pyramis Lookinge like, and parte with pleasure. Growes least at farthest: now faire Circe grante, Although the faire-hair'd Greeks do never vaunte, By this the knights being all risen from their That they in measur'd paces aught have done, seates, were, by Ulysses (the loud musicke soundBut where the god of batteles led them on; inge) brought to the stage; and then to the violins Give leave that (freed from sleepe) the small danced their first measure; after which this remaine songe brought them to the second. Of my companions, on the under plaine, May in a dance strive how to pleasure thee, On and imitate the Sun, Eyther with skill or with varietye. Stay not to breathe till you have done: Earth doth thinke as other where Do some woemen she doth beare. Circe is pleas'd: Ulysses take my wand, Those wifes whose husbands only threaten, And from their eyes each child of sleepe command, are not lov'd like those are beaten: Whilst my choice maides with their harmonious Then with your feete to suffringe move her, voyces For whilst you beate earth thus, you love her. (Whereat each byrd and dancinge springe rejoyces) Here they danc'd their second measure, and thert Harminge the windes when they contrary mecte, this songe was sunge, during which time they Shall inake their spirits as nimble as their feete. take out the ladyes. SONGE CIRCE. SONGE CHORUS. CHOOSE now amonge this fairest number, Upon whose brestes love would for ever slumber : THE THIRD SCENE'S DESCRIPTION. Choose not ainisse, since you may where you wille, Circe, with this speech, deliveringe her wande Or blame yourselves for choosinge ille. to Ulysses, rests on the lower parte of the hill, Then do not leave, though oft the musicke closes, u bile he going up the hill, and striking the Till lillyes in their cheekes be turned to roses. trees with his wande, suddenly two greate gates flew open, makinge, as it were, a large glade And if it lay in Circe's power, through the wood, and along the glade a faire Your blisse might so persever, walke; two seeming bricke walles on either That those you choose but for an hower, side, over which the trees wantonly hunge; a You should enjoy for ever. great light (as the Sun's sudden unmaskinge) | The knights, with their ladyes, dance here the old being seene upon this discovery. At the furthe rend was described an arbour, very curiously measures, galliards, corantoes, the branles, &c. and then (havinge led them againe to their done, havinge one entrance under an archi places) danced their last measure; after whicla treave, borne up by two pillers, with their this songe called them awaye. chapters and bases guilte; the top of the entrance beautifide with postures of Satyres, Wood. Who but Time so hasty were, nymphs, and other anticke worke; as also the sides and corners : the coveringe archaise inter To fly away and leave you here. Here where delight wove with boughes, the backe of it girt round with a vine, and artificially done up in knottes Might well ailure towardes thc toppe: beyond it was a wood A very stoicke, from this night scene in perspective, the fore part of it opening "To turne an epicure. at Ulysses's approach, the maskers were dis- But since he calles away; and Time will soone re. covered in severall seates, leaninge as asleepe. pent, [spente. He staid not longer here, but ran to be more idly SONOE. THEIR ATTIRE. ON THE BEWAILED DEATH OF THE TRULY BELOVED AND MOST VERTUOUS Doublets of greene taffita, cut like oaken leaves, as upon cloth of silver; their skirtes and winges cut into leaves, deepe round hose of the same, AN ELEGIE, both lin’d with sprigge lace spangled; long white sylke stockings; greene pumps, and roses done over with sylver leaves; hattes of the same stuffe, and cut narrowe-brimmed, and HENRY, PRINCE OF Wales'. risinge smaller compasse at the crowne ; white What time the world, clat in a mourning robe, reathe hatbandes; white plumes; egrettes with A stage made, for a woefull tragedie, a greene fall; ruffe bands and cuffes. When showres of teares from the celestial globe, Ulysses severally came and toucht every one of Bewail'd the fate of sea-lov'd Brittanie; them with the wand, while this was sunge. This copy is transcribed from a manuseript ia |