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A Particular Entertainment of the Queen and Prince.

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A

Particular   Entertainment

O F   T H E

Q U E E N   and   P R I N C E

Their  H I G H N E S S  at  A L T H R O P E,

A T  T H E

Right Honourable the Lord  S P E N C E R' S, on Saturday,
Being the 25th of June 1603. As they came first into the Kingdom.


The Author   B. J.



A  S A T Y R.

T
HE Invention was, to have a Satyr lodged in a little
 Spinet, by which Her Majesty, and the Prince were
 to come, who (at the report of certain Cornets that
were devided in several places of the Park, to signifie her Ap-
proach) advanced his head above the top of the wood, wondring,
and (with his Pipe in his hand) began as followeth.


                       S A T Y R.

   
H
Ere? there? and everywhere?
 Some Solemnities are near,
   That these Changes strike mine Ear.
   My Pipe and I a part shall bear.

And after a short strain with his Pipe; again.

   Look, see; (beshrew this Tree,)
   What may all this Wonder be?
   Pipe it, who that list for me:
   I'll flie out abroad, and see.

There he leaped down, and gazing the Queen and the Prince
 in the Face, went forward.


   That is Cyparissus Face!
   And the Dame hath Syrinx Grace!
   O that Pan were now in place,
   Sure, they are of heavenly Race.

Here he ran into the Wood again, and hid himself, whil'st to the
 sound of excellent soft Musick, that was there concealed in the
 Thicket, there came tripping up the lawn, a bevy of
Fairies,
 attending on
Mab their Queen, who falling into an artificial
 Ring, that was there cut in the path, began to dance around,
 while their Mistriss spake as followeth.


                       F A I R Y.

   Hail, and welcom worthiest Queen,
   Joy had never perfect been,
   To the Nymphs that haunt this Green,
   Had they not this Evening seen.

[column break]

   Now they print it on the ground
   With their Feet in figures round,
   Marks that will be ever found,
   To remember this glad stound.

The Satyr peeping out of the Bush, said,

   Trust her not, you Bonny-bell,
   She will Forty Leasings tell,
   I do know her Pranks right well.

                       F A I R Y.

   Satyr, we must have a Spell
   For your Tongue, it runs too fleet.

                       S A T Y R.

   Not so nimbly as your Feet,
   When about the Cream-bowls sweet,
   You, and all your Elves do meet.

Here he came hopping forth, and mixing himself with the
 
Fairies skipped in, out, and about their Circle, while the
 Elves made many offers to catch at him.


   This is Mab the Mistriss Fairy,
   That doth nightly rob the Dairy,
   And can hurt, or help the cherning,
   (As she please) without discerning.

Elfe. Pug, You will anon take warning.
   She, that pinches Country Wenches,
   If they rub not clean their Benches,
   And with sharper Nails remembers,
   When they take not up their Embers:
   But if so they chance to feast her,
   In a shoe she drops a Tester.

Elfe. Shall we strip the skipping Jester?
   This is she that empties Cradles,
   Takes out Children, puts in Ladles:
   Trains forth Midwives in their slumber,
   With a Sieve the holes to number.
   And then leads them, from her Boroughs,
   Home through Ponds, and Water-furrows.
Elfe.                  




              Entertainments. 315


Elfe. Shall not all this mocking stir us?
   She can start our Franklin's Daughters,
   In their sleep, with shreeks, and laughters,
   And on sweet Saint Ann's night,
   Feed them with a promis'd sight,
   Some of Husbands, some of Lovers,
   Which an empty Dream discovers.

Elfe. Satyr, Vengeance near you hovers.
   And in hope that you would come here
* For she
was expect-
ed there on
Midsum-
mer
day at
night, but
came not
till the day
following.
   Yester-Eve, the Lady * Summer
   She invited to a Banquet,
   But (in sooth) I con you thank yet,
   That you could so well deceive her
   Of the Pride which gan up-heave her:
   And (by this) would so have blown her,
   As no wood-god should have known her.

Here he skipped into the Wood.

Elfe. Mistriss, this is only spight:
   For you would not yesternight
   Kiss him in the cock-shout light.

And came again.

                       S A T Y R.

   By Pan, and thou hast hit it right.

There they laid hold on him, and nipt him.

                       F A I R Y.

   Fairies, pinch him black and blue,
   Now you have him, make him rue.

                       S A T Y R.

   O, hold, Mab: I sue.

Elfe. Nay, the Devil shall have his due.

Then he ran quite away, and left them in a Confusion, while the
 
Fairy began again.

                       F A I R Y.

   Pardon, Lady, this wild strain,
   Common with the Sylvan Train,
   That do skip about this Plain:
   Elves, apply your gyre again.

   And whil'st some do hop the Ring,
   Some shall play, and some shall sing,
   We'll express in every thing,
* Quasi
Orion's
ANNA.
   * Orana's well-coming.


                       S O N G.

   
T
His is she,
 This is she,
      In whose world of grace
   Every season, person, place,
      That receive her, happy be;
(a) Bringing
with her
the Prince,
which is
the greatest
Felicity of
Kingdoms.
(b) For
Housholds.
         For with no less,
   Than (a) a Kingdom's happiness,
      Doth she private (b) Lares bless,
         And ours above the rest:
         By how much we deserve it least.
      Long live Oriana
   To exceed (whom she succeeds) our late Diana.

[column break]

                       F A I R Y.

   Madam, now an end to make,
   Deign a simple Gift to take:
   Only for the Fairies sake,
   Who about you still shall wake.

   'Tis done only to supply,
   His suspected courtesie,
   Who (since Thamyra did die)
   Hath not brookt a Lady's eye,

   Nor allow'd about his place,
   Any of the Female Race.
   Only we are free to trace
   All his grounds, as he to chase.

   For which Bounty to us lent,
   Of him unknowledg'd, or unsent,
* A Jewel
was given
her.
   We prepar'd this * Complement,
   And as far from cheap intent,

   In particular to feed,
   Any hope that should succeed
   Or our glory by the deed,
   As yourself are from the need.

   Utter not; we you implore
   Who did give it, nor wherefore.
   And when ever you restore
   Yourself to us, you shall have more.

   Highest, happiest Queen, farewell,
   But beware you do not tell.

Here the Fairies hopt away in a fantastick Dance, when, on a
 sudden, the
Satyr discover'd himself again, and came forth.

                       S A T Y R.

   Not tell? Ha, ha, I could smile,
   At this old, and toothless Wile.
   Lady, I have been no sleeper,
   She belies the noble Keeper.
   Say, that here he like the groves:
   And pursue no foreign loves:
   Is he therefore to be deemed,
   Rude, or savage? or esteemed,
   But a sorry Entertainer,
   'Cause he is no common strainer,
   After painted Nymphs for Favours,
   Or that in his garb he savours
   Little of the Nicety,
   In the sprucer Courtiery;
   As the Rosary of Kisses,
   With the Oath that never misses,
   This, believe me on the brest,
   And telling some Man's Jest,
   Thinking to prefer his Wit,
   Equal with his Suit by it,
   I mean his Cloaths? No, no, no,
   Here doth no such humor flow.
   He can neither bribe a grace,
   Nor encounter my Lord's face
   With a plyant smile, and flatter,
   Though this lately were some matter
   To the making of a Courtier.
   Now he hopes he shall resort there,
   Safer, and with more allowance;
   Since a hand hath governance,
   That hath given those Customs chase,
   And hath brought his own in place.
S s  2                              O that                




316 Entertainments.                 


   O that now a Wish could bring,
   The god-like person of a King;
   Then should even Envy find,
   Cause of wonder at the mind,
   Of our Woodman: but lo, where
   His Kingly Image doth appear,
   And is all this while neglected.
   Pardon (Lord) you are respected,
   Deep as is the Keeper's heart,
   And as dear in every part.
Here the
Satyr fetcht
out of the
Wood the
Lord Spen-
cer
's eldest
Son, attired
and ap-
pointed
like an
Huntsman.
   See, for instance, where he sends
   His Son, his Heir; who humbly bends
   Low, as his Father's earth,
   To the womb that gave you birth:
   So he was directed first,
   Next to you, of whom the thirst
   Of seeing takes away the use
   Of that part, should plead excuse
   For his boldness, which is less
   By his comely shamefac'tness.
   Rise up, Sir, I will betray,
   All I think you have to say;
   That your Father gives you here
   (Freely, as to him you were)
   To the service of this Prince:
   And with you these Instruments
   Of his wild and Sylvan trade,
   Better not Acteon had.
   The Bow was Phœbes, and the Horn,
   By Orion often worn:
   The Dog of Sparta Breed, and good,
   As can ring within a Wood;
   Thence his name is: you shall try
   How he hunteth instantly.
   But perhaps the Queen your mother,
   Rather doth affect some other
   Sport, as coursing: we will prove
   Which her Highness most doth love.
    Satyrs, let the Woods resound,
They shall have their welcom crown'd,   
With a Brace of Bucks to ground.
}





At that the whole Wood and Place resounded with the noise of
 Cornets, Horns, and other hunting Musick, and a Brace of
 choice Deer put out, and as fortunately kill'd, as they were
 meant to be; even in the sight of her Majesty.

This was the first Night's Shew. Where the next day being Sun-
 day, she rested, and on Monday, till after Dinner; where there
 was a Speech suddenly thought on, to induce a Morris of the
 Clowns thereabout, who most officiously presented themselves, but
 by reason of the throng of the Country that came in, their
 Speaker could not be heard, who was in the person of
No-
 Body, to deliver this following Speech, and attired in a pair of
 Breeches which were made to come up to his Neck, with his
 Arms out at his Pockets, and a Cap drowning his Face.


   
I
F my outside move your Laughter,
 Pray Jove, my inside be thereafter.
   Queen, Prince, Duke, Earls,
   Countesses; you Courtly Pearls:
   (And, I hope, no mortal Sin,
   If I put less Ladies in)
   Fair saluted be you all.
   At this time it doth befall,
   We are the Huisher to a Morris,
   (A kind of Masque) whereof good store is
   In the Country hereabout,
   But this, the choice of all the Rout.

[column break]

   Who, because that no Man sent them,
   Have got No-Body to present them.
   These are things have no suspicion
   Of their ill doing; nor ambition
   Of their well: but as the Pipe
   Shall inspire them, mean to skip.
   They come to see, and to be seen,
   And though they dance afore the Queen,
   There's none of these doth hope to come by
   Wealth, to build another Holmby:
   All those dancing days are done,
   Men must now have more than one
   Grace, to build their Fortunes on,
   Else our Souls would sure have gone,
   All by this time to our feet.
   I not deny where Graces meet
   In a Man, that quality
   Is a graceful property:
   But when Dancing is his best,
   (Beshrew me) I suspect the rest.
   But I am No-Body, and my breath
   (Soon as it is born) hath death.
   Come on Clowns, forsake your dumps,
   And bestir your hob-nail'd stumps,
   Do your worst, I'll undertake,
   Not a jerk you have shall make
   Any Lady here in love.
   Perhaps your Fool, or so, may move
   Some Lady's Woman with a trick,
   And upon it she may pick
   A pair of revelling legs, or two,
   Out of you, with much ado.
   But see, the Hobby-horse is forgot.
   Fool, it must be your lot,
   To supply his want with Faces,
   And some other Buffoon Graces,
   You know how; Piper, play,
   And let no body hence away.

There was also another parting Speech, which was to have been
 presented in the person of a Youth, and accompanied with divers
 Gentlemens younger Sons of the Country: but by reason of the
 multitudinous press, was also hindred. And which we have
 here adjoined.


A
Nd will you then, Mirror of Queens, depart?
 Shall nothing stay you? not my Master's heart?
That pants to leese the comfort of your light,
And see his Day e're it be old grow Night?
You are a Goddess, and your Will be done:
Yet this our last hope is, that as the Sun
Cheers Objects far remov'd, as well as near;
So, where so'ere you shine, you'll sparkle here.
And you, dear Lord, on whom my covetous eye
Doth feed itself, but cannot satisfie,
O shoot up fast in Spirit, as in Years;
That when upon her head proud Europe wears
Her stateliest tyre, you may appear thereon
The richest Gem, without a Paragon.
Shine bright and fixed as the Arctick Star:
And when slow Time hath made you fit for War,
Look over the strict Ocean, and think where
You may but lead us forth, that grow up here
Against a Day, when our officious Swords
Shall speak our Actions, better than our Words.
Till then, all good Event conspire to crown
Your Parents Hopes, our Zeal, and your Renown.
Peace usher now your steps, and where you come,
Be Envy still struck blind, and Flattery dumb.



A pri-           






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