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Cynthia's Revels.
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61

C Y N T H I A 'S
R E V E L S,

O R,
The Fountain of Self-Love.

A COMICAL SATYR.

First Acted in the Year 1600. By the then CHILDREN of QUEEN
ELIZABETH's CHAPPEL.

With the Allowance of the Master of REVELS.

The Author B. J.
Nasutum volo, nolo polyposum.  Mart.

TO THE

SPECIAL FOUNTAIN of MANNERS,

The Court.

T
Hou art a Bountiful and Brave Spring, and waterest all the Noble Plants of this Island. In thee the whole Kingdom dresseth it self, and is ambitious to use thee as her Glass. Beware then thou render Mens Figures truly, and teach them no less to hate their Deformities, than to love their Forms: For, to Grace, there should come Reverence; and no Man can call that Lovely, which is not also Venerable. It is not Powd'ring, Perfuming, and every day smelling of the Taylor, that converteth to a Beautiful Object: but a Mind shining through any Sute, which needs no False Light, either of Riches or Honours, to help it. Such shalt thou find some here, even in the Reign of C Y N T H I A, (a C R I T E S and an A R E T E.) Now, under thy P H œ B U S, it will be thy Province to make more: Except thou desirest to have thy Source mix with the Spring of Self-love, and so wilt draw upon thee as welcom a Discovery of thy Days, as was then made of her Nights.

Thy Servant, but not Slave,           

BEN. JOHNSON.

62

The PERSONS of the PLAY.

CYNTHIA.
MERCURY.

HESPERUS.

CRITES.

AMORPHUS.

ASOTUS.

HEDON.

ANAIDES.

MORPHIDES.

PROSAITES.

MORUS.

 CUPID.

ECCHO.

ARETE.

PHANTASTE.

ARGURION.

PHILAUTIA.

MORIA.

COS.

GELAIA.
PHRONESIS,

THAUMA,

TIME,
 )
|
>
|
)
 		Mutes.



The SCENE

G A R G A P H I E.


The Principal COMœDIANS were,

NAT. FIELD.

SAL. PAVY.

THO. DAY.

 JOH. UNDERWOOD.

ROB. BAXTER.

JOH. FROST.




63
C Y N T H I A 'S
R E V E L S.
After the second sounding.

I N D U C T I O N.

By Three of the Children.

P

Ray you away; why Fellows? Gods so? what
 do you mean?
    2. Marry that you shall not speak the Pro-
 logue, Sir.
   3. Why? do you hope to speak it?
   2. I, and I think I have most right to it: I am sure I
studied it first.
   3. That's all one, if the Author think I can speak it
better.
   1. I plead Possession of the Cloke: Gentiles, your
suffrages I pray you.
   ¶ Why Children, are you not asham'd? come in
[Within                        
there.
   3. 'Slid, I'll play nothing i' the Play, unless I speak it.
   1. Why, will you stand to most Voices of the Gentle-
men? let that decide it.
   3. O no, Sir Gallant; you presume to have the start
of us there, and that makes you offer so prodigally.
   1. No, would I were whipt, if I had any such thought:
try it by Lots either.
   2. Faith, I dare tempt my fortune in a greater ven-
ture than this.
   3. Well said, Resolute Jack, I am content too: so
we draw first. Make the Cuts.
   1. But will you not snatch my Cloke, while I am
stooping?
   3. No, we scorn Treachery.
   2. Which Cut shall speak it?
   3. The shortest.
   1. Agreed. Draw. The shortest is come to the
shortest. Fortune was not altogether blind in this. Now,
Sir, I hope I shall go forward without your Envy.
   2. A spite of all mischievous luck! I was once pluck-
ing at the other.
   3. Stay, Jack: 'Slid, I'll do somewhat now afore I
go in, though it be nothing but to revenge my self on
the Author: since I speak not his Prologue. I'll go tell
all the Argument of his Play afore-hand, and so stale
his Invention to the Auditory before it comes forth.
   1. O, do not so.
   2. By no means.

At the breach-  
es in this
Speech fol-
lowing, the o-
ther two in-
terrupt him
still.
   3. First, the Title of his Play is Cynthia's
Revels, as any Man (that hath hope to be
saved by his Book) can witness; the Scene
Gargaphie: which I do vehemently suspect
for some fustian Country; but let that va-
nish. Here is the Court of Cynthia, whither
he brings Cupid (travelling on foot) resolv'd
to turn Page. By the way, Cupid meets with Mercury,

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(as that's a thing to be noted, take any of our Play-
Books without a Cupid, or a Mercury in it, and burn it
for an Heretick in Poetry) — Pray thee let me alone.
Mercury, he (in the nature of a Conjurer) raises up
Eccho, who weeps over her Love, or Daffodil, Narcissus,
a little; sings; curses the Spring wherein the pretty
foolish Gentleman melted himself away: and there's an
end of her. —— Now I am to inform you, that Cu-
pid and Mercury do both become Pages. Cupid attends
on Philautia or Self-love, a Court Lady: Mercury follows
Hedon, the Voluptuous, and a Courtier; one that ranks
himself even with Anaides, or the Impudent, a Gallant,
(and that's my part:) one that keeps laughter, Gelaia the
Daughter of Folly, (a Wench in Boys attire) to wait on
him ——— These in the Court meet with Amorphus,
or the deformed, a Traveller that hath drunk of the
Fountain, and there tells the wonders of the Water.
They presently dispatch away their Pages with Bottles to
fetch of it, and themselves go to visit the Ladies. But
I should have told you — (Look, these Emets put me
out here) that with this Amorphus, there comes along a
Citizens Heir, Asotus, or the Prodigal, who (in imita-
tion of the Traveller, who hath the Whetstone following
him) entertains the Begger, to be his Attendant. ——
Now, the Nymphs who are Mistresses to these Gallants,
are Philautia, Lelf-Love;Self-Love Phantaste, a light Wittyness;
Argurion Money; and their Guardian, Mother Moria or
Mistress Folly. ———
   1. Pray thee no more.
   3. There Cupid strikes Money in love with the Prodigal,
makes her dote upon him, give him Jewels, Bracelets,
Carkenets, &c. all which he most ingeniously departs
withal to be made known to the other Ladies and Gal-
lants; and in the heat of this, increases his Train with
the Fooll to follow him, as well as the Begger —— By
this time, your Begger begins to wait close, who is return'd
with the rest of his Fellow Bottle-men. ——— There
they all drink, save Argurion, who is faln into a sudden
Apoplexy. ———
   1. Stop his Mouth.
   3. And then, there's a retired ShollarScholar there, you would
not wish a thing to be better contemn'd of a Society of
Gallants, than it is: and he applies his Service (good
Gentleman) to the Lady Arete, or Vertue, a poor Nymph
of Cynthia's Train, that's scarce able to buy her self a
Gown, you shall see her play in a black Robe anon:
A Creature that (I assure you) is no less scorn'd than
himself. Where am I now? at a stand?
   2. Come, leave at last, yet.
   3. O, the Night is come, ('twas somewhat dark, me
thought) and Cynthia intends to come forth: (That helps
it a little yet.) All the Courtiers must provide for Re-
vels; they conclude upon a Masque, the device of which,
is — (what, will you ravish me?) that each of these Vi-
ces, being to appear before Cynthia, would seem other
than indeed they are: and therefore assume the most
neighbouring Vertues as their masking Habits. —— (I'ld
cry a Rape, but that you are Children.)
2. Come,


64 Cynthia's Revels.

   2. Come, we'll have no more of this anticipation:
to give them the Inventory of their Cates aforehand,
were the discipline of a Tavern, and not fitting this
presence.
   1. Tut, this was but to shew us the happiness of his
Memory. I thought at first he would have plaid the ig-
norant Critique with every thing, along as he had gone;
I expected some such device.
   3. O, you shall see me do that, rarely; lend me my
Cloke.
   1. Soft, Sir, you'll speak my Prologue in it.
   3. No, would I might never stir then.
   2. Lend it him, lend it him.
   1. Well, you have sworn.
   3. I have. Now, Sir, suppose I am one of your gen-
tile Auditors, that am come in (having paid my Mo-
ney at the Door, with much ado) and here I take my
Place and sit down: I have my three sorts of Tabacco
in my Pocket, my Light by me, and thus I begin. By

At the breaches  
he takes his
Tabacco.
this light, I wonder that any Man is so mad,
to come to see these rascally Tits play here —
They do act like so many Wrens or Pis-
mires — not the fifth part of a good Face
amongst them all. — And then their Musick is abomi-
nable — able to stretch a Mans Ears worse than ten —
Pillories, and their Ditties — most lamentable things,
like the pitiful fellows that make them — Poets. By
this Vapour, an 'twere not for Tabacco — I think —
the very stench of 'em would poison me, I should not
dare to come in at their Gates — A Man were better
visit fifteen Jayls, — or a dozen or two of Hospitals —
than once adventure to come near them. How is't?
Well?
   1. Excellent: give me my Cloke.
   3. Stay; you shall see me do another now: but a
more sober, or better-gather'd Gallant; that is (as it
may be thought) some Friend, or well-wisher to the
House: And here I enter.
   1. What? upon the Stage, too?
   2. Yes: and I step forth like one of the Children, and
ask you, Would you have a Stool, Sir?
   3. A Stool, Boy?
   2. I, Sir, if you'll give me six Pence I'll fetch you
one.
   3. For what I pray thee? what shall I do with it?
   2. O Lord, Sir! will you betray your ignorance so
much? why throne your self in state on the Stage, as
other Gentlemen use, Sir.
   3. Away, Wag; what, would'st thou make an Im-
plement of me? 'Slid the Boy takes me for a piece of
Perspective (I hold my Life) or some Silk Curtain, come
to hang the Stage here! Sir Crack, I am none of your
fresh Pictures, that use to beautifie the decaied dead Ar-
ras in a publick Theatre.
   2. 'Tis a sign, Sir, you put not that confidence in
your good Cloaths, and your better Face, that a Gentle-
man should do, Sir. But I pray you Sir, let me be a
suter to you, that you will quit our Stage then, and
take a Place, the Play is instantly to begin.
   3. Most willingly, my good wag: but I would speak
with your Author, where's he?
   2. Not this way, I assure you, Sir: we are not so of-
ficiously befriended by him, as to have his presence in
the Trying-house, to prompt us aloud, stamp at the
Book-holder, swear for our Properties, curse the poor
Tire-man, rail the Musick out of tune, and sweat for
every venial Trespass we commit, as some Author would,
if he had such fine Engles as we. Well, 'tis but our
hard fortune.
   3. Nay, crack, be not dis-heartned.
   2. Not I, Sir; but if you please to confer with our
Author, by Atturny, you may, Sir: our proper self here,
stands for him.
   3. Troth, I have no such serious affair to negotiate

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with him, but what may very safely be turn'd upon thy
Trust. It is in the general behalf of this fair Society
here that I am to speak, at least the more judicious part
of it, which seems much distasted with the immodest
and obscene writing of many in their Plays. Besides,
they could wish, your Poets would leave to be Promoters
of other Mens Jests, and to way-lay all the stale Apo-
thegms, or old Books, they can hear of (in print, or o-
therwise) to farce their Scenes withal. That they would
not so penuriously glean Wit from every Laundress or
Hackney-man, or derive their best Grace (with servile
imitation) from common Stages, or observation of the
Company they converse with; as if their Invention
liv'd wholly upon another Mans Trencher. Again, that
feeding their Friends with nothing of their own, but
what they have twice or thrice Cook'd, they should not
wantonly give out, how soon they had drest it; nor how
many Coaches came to carry away the Broken-meat,
besides Hobby-horses, and Foot-cloth Nags.
   2. So, Sir, this is all the reformation you seek?
   3. It is: do not you think it necessary to be practis'd,
my little Wag?
   2. Yes, where any such ill habited Custom is receiv'd.
   3. O (I had almost forgot it too) they say, the
umbræ, or Ghosts of some three or four Plays, depart-
ed a dozen years since, have been seen walking on your
Stage here: take heed, Boy, if your House be haunted
with such Hob-goblins, 'twill fright away all your Specta-
tors quickly.
   2. Good, Sir; but what will you say now, if a Poet
(untoucht with any breath of this disease) find the To-
kens upon you, that are of the Auditory? As some one
Civet-wit among you, that knows no other Learning,
than the price of Sattin and Velvets; nor other perfe-
ction, than the wearing of a neat Sute; and yet will
censure as desperately as the most profess'd Critique in
the House: presuming his Clothes should bear him out
in't. Another (whom it hath pleas'd Nature to furnish
with more Beard, than Brain) prunes his Mustaccio,
lisps, and (with some score of affected Oaths) swears
down all that sit about him; That the old Hieronimo, first bracket '(' omittedas it
was first acted) was the only best, and judiciously pend play
of Europe. A third great-bellied Juggler talks of twen-
ty years since, and when Monsieur was here, and would
enforce all Wits to be of that fashion, because his Doub-
let is still so. A fourth miscalls all by the name of fustian,
that his grounded Capacity cannot aspire to. A fifth,
only shakes his Bottle-head, and out of his corky Brain,
squeezeth out a Pittiful-learned Face, and is silent.
   3. By my faith, Jack, you have put me down: I
would I knew how to get off with any indifferent
grace. Here, take your Cloke, and promise some satis-
faction in your Prologue, or (I'll be sworn) we have
marr'd all.
   2. Tut, fear not, Child, this will never distaste a true
Sence: Be not out, and good enough. I would thou
hadst some Sugar-candied to sweeten thy Mouth.

The Third sounding.

P R O L O G U E.

I
F gracious silence, sweet attention,
 Quick sight, and quicker apprehension,
(The lights of Judgments throne) shine any where;
Our doubtful Author hopes this is their Sphere.
And therefore opens he himself to those;
To other weaker Beams his labours close:
As loth to prostitute their Virgin strain,
To ev'ry vulgar and adult'rate Brain,
In this alone, his Muse her sweetness hath,
She shuns the print of any beaten Path;
And


Cynthia's Revels. 65

And proves new ways to come to learned Ears:
Pied ignorance she neither loves nor, fears.
Nor hunts she after popular Applause,
Or fomy praise, that drops from common Jaws:
The Garland that she wears, their bands must twine,
Who can both censure, understand, define
What merit is: Then cast those piercing Rays,
Round as a Crown, instead of honour'd Bays,
About his Poesie; which (he knows) affords
Words, above action: matter, above words.

Act I.    Scene I.

Cupid, Mercury.

W

Ho goes there?
   Mer. 'Tis I, blind Archer.
   Cup. Who? Mercury?
   Mer. I
   Cup. Farewel.
   Mer. Stay, Cupid.
   Cup. Not in your company, Hermes, except your
hands were rivetted at your Back.
   Mer. Why so my little Rover?
   Cup. Because I know, you ha' not a Finger, but is as
long as my Quiver (Cousin Mercury) when you please
to extend it.
   Mer. Whence derive you this Speech, Boy?
   Cup. O! 'tis your best Polity to be ignorant. You did
never steal Mars his Sword out of the Sheath, you? nor
Neptune's Trident? nor Apollo's Bow? no, not you?
Alas, your Palms (Jupiter knows) they are as tender as
the Foot of a foundred Nag, or a Ladies Face new mer-
curied, they'll touch nothing.
   Mer. Go too (Infant) you'll be daring stil.
   Cup. Daring? O Janus! what a word is there? why,
my light Feather-heel'd Couz, what are you? any more
than my Uncle Joves Pandar, a Lackquey that runs on
Errands for him, and can whisper a light Message
to a loose Wench with some round volubility, wait man-
nerly at a Table with a Trencher, and warble upon a
Crowd a little, fill out Nectar, when Ganimed's away,
one that sweeps the Gods Drinking-room every Morn-
ing, and sets the Cushions in order again, which they
threw one at anothers Head over-night, can brush the
Carpets, call the Stools again to their places, play the
Cryer of the Court with an audible Voice, and take
state of a President upon you at Wrestlings, Pleadings,
Negotiations, &c. Here's the Catalogue o' your Im-
ployments now, O no, I err, you have the marshaling
of all the Ghosts too that pass the Stygian Ferry, and I
suspect you for a asecond 'a' an error share with the old Sculler there, if
the truth were known; but let that scape. One other
peculiar vertue you possess, in lifting, or lieger-du-main,
(which few of the House of Heav'n have else besides) I
must confess. But (methinks) that should not make
you put that extream distance 'twixt your self and o-
thers, that we should be said to over-dare in speaking to
your nimble Deity? So Hercules, might challenge Prio-
rity of us both, because he can throw the Bar farther,
or lift more joyn'd Stooles at the Arms end, than we.
If this might carry it, then we who have made the
whole Body of Divinity tremble at the twang of our
Bow, and enforc'd Saturnius himself to lay by his curl'd
Front, Thunder, and Three-fork'd Fires, and put on a
masking Sute, too light for a Reveller of Eighteen, to
be seen in ———
   Mer. How now! my dancing braggart in decimo sexto!
charm your skipping Tongue, or I'll ———
   Cup. What? use the vertue of your snaky Tip-staff
there upon us?
   Mer. No, Boy, but the smart vigour of my Palm a-
bout your Ears. You have forgot since I took your

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Heels up into Air (on the very hour I was born) in
sight of all the Bench of Deities, when the Silver Roof
of the Olympyan Palace rung again with applause of the
Fact.
   Cup. O no, I remember it freshly, and by a particular
Instance; for my Mother Venus (at the same time) but
stoopt to imbrace you, and (to speak by metaphore)
you borrowed a Girdle of hers, as you did Joves Scep-
ter (while he was laughing) and would have done his
Thunder too, but that 'twas too hot for your itching
Fingers.
   Mer. 'Tis well, Sir.
   Cup. I heard, you but look't in at Vulcans Forge the
other day, and intreated a pair of his new Tongs a-
long with you for company: Tis joy on you (y'faith)
that you will keep your hook'd Tallons in practice
with any thing. 'Slight, now you are on Earth, we
shall have you filch Spoons and Candlesticks rather than
fail: Pray Jove the perfum'd Courtiers keep their Ca-
sting-bottles, Pick-tooths, and Shittle-cocks from you;
or our more ordinary Gallants their Tabacco-boxes, for
I am strangely jealous of your Nails.
   Mer. Ne're trust me, Cupid, but you are turn'd a most
acute Gallant of late, the Edg of my wit is clean taken
off with the fine and subtile stroke of your thin-ground
Tongue, you fight with too poinant a Phrase, for me to
deal with.
   Cup. O Hermes, your Craft cannot make me confi-
dent. I know my own Steel to be almost spent, and
therefore intreat my Peace with you, in time: you are
too cunning for me to Encounter at length, and I think
it my safest Ward to close.
   Mer. Well, for once, I'll suffer you to win upon me,
wag, but use not the strains too often, they'll stretch
my patience. Whither might you march, now?
   Cup. Faith (to recover thy good Thoughts) I'll disco-
ver my whole Project. The Huntress and Queen of
these Groves, Diana (in regard of some black and en-
vious slanders hourly breath'd against her, for her di-
vine Justice on Acteon, as she pretends) hath here in the
Vale of Gargaphy, proclaim'd a solemn Revels, which
(her God-head put off) she will descend to grace, with
the full and royal expence of one of her clearest
Moons: In which time, it shall be lawful for all sorts
of ingenuous Persons, to visit her Palace, to court her
Nymphs, to exercise all variety of generous and noble
Pastimes, as well to intimate how far she treads such
malitious Imputations beneath her, as also to shew how
clear her Beauties are from the least wrinckle of Austeri-
ty they may be charg'd with.
   Mer. But, what is all this to Cupid?
   Cup. Here do I mean to put off the Title of a God,
and take the Habit of a Page, in which disguise (du-
ring the interim of these Revels) I will get to follow
some one of Diana's Maids, where (if my Bow hold,
and my Shafts fly but with half the willingness, and
aim they are directed) I doubt not, but I shall really re-
deem the Minutes I have lost, by their so long and over-
nice Proscription of my Deity from their Court.
   Mer. Pursue it (divine Cupid) it will be rare.
   Cup. But will Hermes second me?
   Mer. I am now to put in act an especial designment
from my Father Jove, but that perform'd, I am for any
fresh action that offers it self.
   Cup. Well, then we part.
   Mer. Farewel, good wagg.
Now to my charge, Eccho, fair Eccho, speak,
'Tis Mercury that calls thee, sorrowful Nymph.
Salute me with thy repercussive Voice,
That I may know what Cavern of the Earth
Contains thy airy Spirit, how, or where
I may direct my Speech, that thou maist hear,

K                                              Act


66 Cynthia's Revels.

Act I.    Scene II.

Eccho, Mercury.

H
Ear.
   Mer. So nigh?
   Ecc. I.
   Mer. Know (gentle Soul) then, I am sent from Jove,
Who (pittying the sad burthen of thy woes,
Still growing on thee, in thy want of words,
To vent thy passion for Narcissus death)
Commands, that now (after Three thousand years,
Which have been exercis'd in Juno's spight)
Thou take a Corporal Figure, and ascend,
Enricht with vocal and articulate power.
Make haste, sad Nymph, thrice shall my winged Rod
Strike th' obsequious Earth, to give thee way.
Arise, and speak thy Sorrows, Eccho, rise,
Here, by this Fountain, where thy Love did pine,
Whose memory lives fresh to vulgar fame,
Shrin'd in this yellow Flower, that bears his Name.
   Ecc. His name revives, and lifts me up from Earth.
O, which way shall I first convert my self?
Or in what mood shall I essay to speak,
That (in a Moment) I may be delivered
Of the prodigious grief I go withal?
See, see, the mourning Fount, whose Springs weep yet
Th' untimely fate of that too beautious Boy,
That Trophee of Self-love, and Spoyle of Nature,
Who (now transform'd into this drooping flower)
Hangs the Repentant Head, back from the Stream,
As if it wisht, would I had never look'd
In such a flatt'ring mirrour. O Narcissus,
Thou that wast once (and yet are) my Narcissus;
Had Eccho but been private with thy thoughts,
She would have dropt away her self in Tears,
Till she had all turn'd Water, that in her,
(As in a truer Glass) thou mightst have gaz'd,
And seen thy Beauties by more kind reflection
But Self-love never yet could look on Truth,
But with bleard Beams; slick Flattery and she
Are twin-born Sisters, and so mix their Eyes,
As if you sever one, the other dyes.
Why did the Gods give thee a heav'nly form,
And earthly thoughts, to make thee proud of it?
Why, do I ask? 'Tis now the known Disease
That Beauty hath, to bear too deep a sense
Of her own Self-conceived Excellence.
O, hadst thou known the worth of Heav'ns rich gift,
Thou wouldst have turn'd it to a truer use,
And not (with starv'd, and covetous ignorance)
Pin'd in continual eyeing that bright Gem,
The glance whereof to others had been more,
Than to thy famisht Mind the wide Worlds store:
"So wretched is it to be meerly rich.
Witness thy youths dear Sweets, here spent untasted,
Like a fair Taper, with his own Flame wasted.
   Mer. Eccho, be brief, Saturnia is abroad,
And if she hear, she'll storm at Joves high Will.
   Ecc. I will (kind Mercury) be brief as Time.
Vouchsafe me, I may do him these last Rites,
But kiss his flowr, and sing some mourning strain
Over his watry Hearse.   Mer. Thou dost obtain.
I were no Son to Jove, should I deny thee.
Begin, and (more to grace thy cunning Voice)
The humorous Air shall mix her solemn Tunes,
With thy sad words: strike Musick from the Sphears,
And with your Golden Raptures swell our Ears.

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S O N G.

S
Low, slow, fresh Fount, keep time with my salt Tears;
   Yet slower, yet, O faintly gentle springs:
List to the heavy part the musick bears,
   "Woe weeps out her division, when she sings.
         Droop herbs and flowres;
         Fall grief in showres;
         "Our beauties are not ours:
                             O, I could still
(Like melting snow upon some craggy hill,
                      drop, drop, drop, drop,
Since natures pride is, now, a wither'd daffodill.

   Mer. Now, ha' you done?
   Ecc. Done presently (good Hermes) bide a little,
Suffer thy thirsty Eye to gaze a while,
But e'en to taste the place, and I am vanisht.
   Mer. Forgo thy use, and liberty of Tongue,
And thou maist dwell on Earth, and sport thee there.
   Ecc. Here young Acteon fell, pursu'd, and torn
by Cynthia's wrath (more eager than his Hounds)
And here (ay me, the place is fatal) see
The weeping Niobe, translated hither
From Phrygian Mountains: any by Phœbe rear'd,
As the proud Trophæe of her sharp revenge.
   Mer. Nay, but hear.
   Ecc. But here, O here, the Fountain of Self-love,
In which Latona, and her careless Nymphs,
(Regardless of my sorrows) bathe themselves
In hourly Pleasures.   Mer. Stint thy babling Tongue;
Fond Eccho, thou prophan'st the grace is done thee:
So idle Worldlings (meerly made of voice)
Censure the Powers above them. Come, away,
Jove calls thee hence, and his will brooks no stay.
   Ecc. O, stay: I have but one poor Thought to clothe
In airy Garments, and then (faith) I go.
Henceforth, thou treacherous and murthering Spring,
Be ever call'd the Fountain of Self-love:
And with thy Water let this Curse remain,
(As an inseparate Plague) that who but tastes
A drop thereof, may, with the instant touch,
Grow dotingly enamour'd on themselves.
Now, Hermes, I have finisht.   Mer. Then thy Speech,
Must here forsake thee, Eccho, and thy Voice
(As it was wont) rebound but the last words.
Farewel.   Ecc. Well.
   Mer. Now, Cupid, I am for you, and your mirth,
To make me light before I leave the Earth.

Act I.    Scene III.

Amorphus, Eccho, Mercury.

D
Ear spark of Beauty, make not so fast away.
   Ecc. Away.
   Mer. Stay, let me observe this Portent yet.
   Amo. I am neither your Minotaure, nor your Centaure,
nor your Satyre, nor your Hyæna, nor your Babion, but
your meer Traveler, believe me.
   Ecc. Leave me.
   Mer. I guess'd it should be some travelling motion
pursu'd Eccho so.
   Amo. Know you from whom you flye? or whence?
   Ecc. Hence.
   Amo. This is somewhat above strange! a Nymph of her
Feature and Lineament, to be so preposterously rude! well,
I will but cool my self at yon' Spring, and follow her.
   Mer. Nay, then I am familiar with the issue: I'll leave
you too.
   Amo. I am a Rhinoceros, if I had thought a Creature
of her symmetry, could have dar'd so improportionable,
and abrupt a digression. Liberal, and divine Fount,
suffer


Cynthia's Revels. 67

suffer my prophane hand to take of thy Bounties. By
the Purity of my taste, here is most ambrosiack Water;
I will sup of it again. By thy favour, sweet fount.
See, the Water (a more running, subtile, and humo-
rous Nymph than she) permits me to touch, and handle
her. What should I infer? If my Behaviours had been
of a cheap or customary garb; my Accent or Phrase
vulgar; my Garments trite; my Countenance illite-
rate, or unpractis'd in the incounter of a beautiful and
brave attir'd Piece; then I might (with some change
of colour) have suspected my Faculties: but know-
ing my self an essence so sublimated, and refin'd by
travel; of so studied, and well exercis'd a Gesture; so
alone in Fashion; able to render the face of any States-
man living; and so speak the meer extraction of Lan-
guage; one that hath now made the sixth return upon
ventuer; and was your first that ever inricht his Coun-
trey with the true Laws of the duello; whose optiques
have drunk the spirit of Beauty, in some Eight score
and eighteen Princes Courts, where I have resided, and
been there fortunate in the amours of Three hundred
forty and five Ladies (all Nobly, if not Princely de-
scended) whose names I have in Catalogue; to con-
clude, in all so happy, as even Admiration her self doth
seem to fasten her kisses upon me: Certes, I do neither
see, nor feel, nor taste, nor favour the least steam, or
fume of a reason, that should invite this foolish fastidi-
ous Nymph, so peevishly to abandon me. Well, let the
Memory of her fleet into Air; my thoughts and I am
for this other Element, Water.

Act I.    Scene IV.

Crites, Asotus, Amorphus.

W
Hat! the well-dieted Amorphus become a Water-
 drinker? I see he means not to write Verses
then.
   Aso. No, Crites? why?
   Cri. Because —— Nec placere diu, nec vivere carmina
possunt, quæ scribuntur aquæ potoribus.
   Amo. What say you to your Helicon?
   Cri. O, the Muses well! that's ever excepted.
   Amo. Sir, your Muses have no such Water, I assure
you; your Necter, or the juyce of your Nepenthe is no-
thing to it; 'tis above your Metheglin, believe it.
   Aso. Metheglin! what's that, Sir? may I be so audaci-
ous to demand?
   Amo. A kind of Greek Wine I have met with, Sir, in
my Travels; it is the same that Demosthenes usually
drunk, in the composure of all his exquisite and melli-
fluous Orations.
   Cri. That's to be argued (Amorphus) if we may cre-
dit Lucian, who in his Encomio Demosthenis affirms, he
never drunk but Water in any of his compositions.
   Amo. Lucian is absurd, he knew nothing: I will be-
lieve mine own Travels, before all the Lucians of Eu-
rope. He doth feed you with fittons,'fictions' in first quarto figments, and
leasins.
   Cri. Indeed (I think) next a Traveller, he do's pret-
tily well.
   Amo. I assure you it was Wine, I have tasted it, and
from the hand of an Italian Antiquary, who derives it
authentically from the Duke of Ferrara's Bottles. How
name you the Gentleman you are in rank with there,
Sir?
   Cri. 'Tis Asotus, Son to the late deceas'd Philargyrus
the Citizen.
   Amo. Was his Father of any eminent place, or
means?
   Cri. He was to have been Prætor next year.
   Amo. Ha! A pretty formal young gallant, in good
sooth: pitty, he is not more gentilely propagated.
Hark you, Crites, you may say to him, what I am, if

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you please: though I affect not popularity, yet I would
be loth to stand out to any, whom you shall vouchsafe
to call Friend.
   Cri. Sir, I fear I may do wrong to your sufficiencies
in the reporting them, by forgetting or misplacing some
one; your self can best enform him of your self, Sir:
except you had some catalogue, or list of your Facul-
ties ready drawn, which you would request me to shew
him for you, and him to take notice of.
   Amo. This Crites is sowre: I will think, Sir.
   Cri. Do so, Sir. O heaven! that any thing (in the
likeness of Man) should suffer these rackt extremities, for
the uttering of his sophisticate good Parts.
   Aso. Crites, I have a sute to you; but you must not
deny me: pray you make this Gentleman and I friends.
   Cri. Friends! Why? is there any difference between
you?
   Aso. No, I mean acquaintance, to know one ano-
ther.
   Cri. O, now I apprehend you; your phrase was
without me before.
   Aso. In good faith, he's a most excellent rare Man,
I warrant him!
   Cri. 'Slight, they are mutually enamour'd by this
time!
   Aso. Will you, sweet Crites?
   Cri. Yes, yes.
   Aso. Nay, but when? you'll defer it now, and for-
get it.
   Cri. Why, is't a thing of such present necessity, that
it requires so violent a dispatch?
   Aso. No, but (would I might never stir) he's a most
ravishing man! good Crites, you shall endear me to you,
in good faith-law.
   Cri. Well, your longing shall be satisfied, Sir.
   Aso. And withal, you may tell him what my Father
was, and how well he left me, and that I am his Heir.
   Cri. Leave it to me, I'll forget none of your dear
graces, I warrant you.
   Aso. Nay, I know you can better marshal these Af-
fairs than I can — O Gods! I'd give all the world (if
I had it) for abundance of such acquaintance.
   Cri. What ridiculous Circumstance might I devise
now, to bestow this reciprocal brace of Butter-flies one
upon another?
   Amo. Since I trode on this side the Alpes, I was not
so frozen in my Invention. Let me see: to accost him
with some choice remnant of Spanish, or Italian? that
would indifferently express my languages now: mar-
ry then, if he should fall out to be ignorant, it were
both hard and harsh. How else? step into some ra-
gioni del stato, and so make my induction? that were
above him too; and out of his Element, I fear. Feign
to have seen him in Venice or Padua? or some face neer
his in similitude? 'tis too pointed, and open. No, it
must be a more quaint, and collateral device. As —
stay: to frame some encomiastick Speech upon this our
Metropolis, or the wise Magistrates thereof, in which
politick number, 'tis odds, but his Father fill'd up a
Room? descend into a particular admiration of their
Justice, for the due measuring of Coals, burning of
Cans, and such like? as also Religion, in pulling
down a superstitious Cross, and advancing a Venus, or
Priapus, in place of it? ha? 'twill do well. Or to talk
of some Hospital, whose Walls record his Father a
Benefactor? or of so many Buckets bestow'd on his
Parish-church, in his life time, with his name at length
(for want of Arms) trickt upon them? Any of these?
Or to praise the cleanness of the Street, wherein he
dwelt? or the provident painting of his Posts against he
should have been Prætor? Or (leaving his Parent) come
to some special Ornament about himself, as his Rapier,
or some other of his Accoutrements? I have it: Thanks,
gracious Minerva.
K 2                                             Aso.


68 Cynthia's Revels.

   Aso. Would I had but once spoke to him, and
then — He comes to me.
   Amo. 'Tis a most curious, and neatly-wrought Band,
this same, as I have seen Sir.
   Aso. O God, Sir.
   Amo, You forgive the humour of mine Eye, in ob-
serving it.
   Cri. His Eye waters after it, it seems.
   Aso. O Lord, Sir, there needs no such Apology, I as-
sure you.
   Cri. I am anticipated: they'll make a solemn deed of
gift of themselves, you shall see.
   Amo. Your Ribband too do's most gracefully, in troth.
   Aso. 'Tis the most gentile, and receiv'd wear now,
Sir.
   Amo. Believe me, Sir, (I speak it not to humour you)
I have not seen a young Gentleman (generally) put on
his Cloaths with more judgment.
   Aso. O, 'tis your pleasure to say so, Sir.
   Amo. No, as I am vertuous (being altogether un-
travel'd) it strikes me into wonder.
   Aso, I do purpose to travel, Sir, at spring.
   Amo. I think I shall affect you, Sir. This last speech
of yours hath begun to make you dear to me.
   Aso. O God, Sir, I would there were any thing in
me, Sir, that might appear worthy the least worthiness
of your worth, Sir. I protest, Sir, I should endeavour
to shew it, Sir, with more than common regard, Sir.
   Cri. O, here's a rare motley, Sir.
   Amo. Both your desert, and your endeavours are
plentiful, suspect them not: but your sweet disposition
to travel (I assure you) hath made you another my-self
in mine Eye, and struck me inamour'd on your Beauties.
   Aso. I would I were the fairest Lady of France for
your sake, Sir, and yet I would travel too.
   Amo. O, you should digress from your self else: for
(believe it) your travel is your only thing that rectifies,
or (as the Italian says) vi rendi pronto all' attioni, makes
you fit for action.
   Aso. I think it be great charge though, Sir.
   Amo. Charge? why 'tis nothing for a Gentleman
that goes private, as your self, or so; my intelligence
shall quit my charge at all times. Good faith, this Hat that
hath possest mine Eye exceedingly; 'tis so pretty, and
fantastick: what? is't a Beaver?
   Aso. I, Sir, I'll assure you 'tis a Beaver, it cost me
eight Crowns but this Morning.
   Amo. After your French account?
   Aso. Yes, Sir.
   Cri. And so near his head? beshrow me, dangerous.
   Amo. A very pretty fashion (believe me) and a most
novel kind of trim: your Band is conceited too!
   Aso. Sir, it is all at your service.
   Amo. O, pardon me.
   Aso. I beseech you, Sir, if you please to wear it, you
shall do me a most infinite grace.
   Cri. 'Slight, will he be prais'd out of his Cloaths?
   Aso. By Heaven, Sir, I do not offer it you after the
Italian manner; I would you should conceive so of me.
   Amo. Sir, I shall fear to appear rude in denying your
courtesies, especially, being invited by so proper a di-
stinction: may I pray your Name Sir?
   Aso. My name is Asotus, Sir.
   Amo. I take your love (gentle Asotus) but let me
win you to receive this, in exchange —
   Crit. They'll change Doublets anon.
   Amo. And (from this time) esteem your self, in the
first Rank, of those few, whom I profess to love. What
make you in company of this Schollar, here? I will
bring you known Gallants, as Anaides of the Or-
dinary, Hedon the Courtier, and others, whose Society
shall render you grac'd and respected: this is a trivial
Fellow, too mean, too cheap, too coursecoarse for you to
converse with.

[column break]

   Aso. 'Slid, this is not worth a Crown, and mine
cost me Eight but this Morning.
   Cri. I lookt when he would repent him, he has be-
gun to be sad a good while.
   Amo. Sir, shall I say to you for that Hat? be not so
sad, be not so sad: it is a Relick I could not so easily
have departed with, but as the Hieroglyphick of my af-
fection; you shall alter it to what form you please, it
will take any block; I have receiv'd it varied (on Re-
cord) to the Three thousandth time, and not so few:
It hath these vertues beside; your Head shall not ake un-
der it; nor your Brain leave you, without licence; It
will preserve your Complexion to Eternity; for no
Beam of the Sun (should you wear it under Zona tor-
rida) hath power to approach it by two Ells. It is
Proof against Thunder, and Inchantment: and was gi-
ven me by a great Man (in Russia) as an especial-priz'd
Present; and constantly affirm'd to be the Hat that ac-
companied the Politick Ulysses in his tedious and ten
years Travels.
   Aso. By Jove, I will not depart withal, whosoever
would give me a Million.

Act I.    Scene V.

Cos, Crites, Amorphus, Asotus, Prosaites.

S
Ave you, sweet Bloods: do's any of you want a
 creature, or a dependant?
   Cri. Beshrew me, a fine blunt Slave!
   Amo. A page of good Timber! it will now be my
grace to entertain him first, though I casheer him again
in private: how art thou call'd?
   Cos. Cos, Sir, Cos.
   Cri. Cos? How happily hath fortune furnisht him
with a whetstone?
   Amo. I do entertain you, Cos, conceal your Quality
till we be private; if your Parts be worthy of me, I
will countenance you; if not, catechize you: Gentiles,
shall we go?
   Aso. Stay, Sir; I'll but entertain this other Fellow,
and then — I have a great humour to taste of this Wa-
ter too, but I'll come again alone for that — mark the
Place. What's your Name, youth?
   Pros. Prosaites, Sir.
   Aso. Prosaites? A very fine name, Crites? is't not?
   Cri. Yes, and a very ancient one, Sir, the begger.
   Aso. Follow me, good Prosaites: Let's talk.
   Cri. He will rank even with you (er't be long)
If you hold on your course. O vanity,
How are thy painted beauties doted on,
By light, and empty Idots!Idiots how pursu'd
With open and extended Appetite!
How they do sweat, and run themselves from breath,
Rais'd on their Toes, to catch thy airy Forms,
Still turning giddy, till they reel like Drunkards,
That buy the merry madness of one hour,
With the long irksomness of following time!
O how despis'd and base a thing is a Man,
If he not strive t'erect his groveling Thoughts
Above the strain of Flesh! But how more cheap,
When, even his best and understanding Part,
(The crown and strength of all his Faculties)
Floats like a dead drownd Body, on the Stream
Of vulgar humour, mixt with common'st dregs?
I suffer for their Guilt now, and my Soul
(Like one that looks on ill-affected Eyes)
Is hurt with mere intention on their Follies.
Why will I view them then? my sense might ask me:
Or is't a rarity, or some new object,
That strains my strict observance to this Point?
O would it were, therein I could afford
My Spirit should draw a little neer to theirs,

To


Cynthia's Revels. 69

To gaze on novelties: so Vice were one.
Tut, she is stale, rank, foul, and were it not
That those (that woo her) greet her with lockt Eyes,
(In spight of all the impostures, paintings, drugs,
Which her Bawd custom dawbs her Cheeks withal)
She would betray her loath'd and leprous Face,
And fright th' enamour'd dotards from themselves:
But such is the perverseness of our nature,
That if we once but fancy levity,
(How antick and ridiculous so ere
It sute with us) yet will our muffled thought
Choose rather not to see it, than avoid it:
And if we can but banish our own sense,
We act our mimick tricks with that free license,
That lust, that pleasure, that security,
As if we practis'd in a Paste-boadPaste-board Case,
And no one saw the motion, but the motion.
Well, check thy passion, lest it grow too lowd:
"While fools are pittied, they wax fat and proud.


Act II.    Scene I.

Cupid, Mercury.

W
Hy, this was most unexpectedly followed (my
 divine delicate Mercury) by the Beard of Jove,
thou are a precious Deity.
   Mer. Nay, Cupid, leave to speak improperly, since
we are turn'd Cracks, let's study to be like Cracks;
practise their Language and Behaviours, and not with
a dead imitation: act freely, carelesly, and capriciously,
as if our Veins ran with Quick-silver, and not utter a
Phrase, but what shall come forth steept in the very
Brine of Conceit, and sparkle like Salt in Fire.
   Cup. That's not every ones happiness (Hermes) though
you can presume upon the easiness and dexterity of
your wit, you shall give me leave to be a little jealous
of mine: and not desperately to hazard it after your
capringcapering humour.
   Mer. Nay, then, Cupid, I think we must have you
hood-winkt again, for you are grown too provident,
since your Eyes were at liberty.
   Cup. Not so (Mercury) I am still blind Cupid to
thee.
   Mer. And what to the Lady Nymph you serve;
   Cup. Troth, Page, Boy, and Sirrah: these are all my
Titles.
   Mer. Then thou hast not altered thy Name, with thy
disguise?
   Cup. O, no, that had been supererogation; you shall
never hear your Courtier call but by one of these three.
   Mer. Faith, then both our Fortunes are the same.
   Cup. Why? what parcel of man hast thou lighted
on for a Master?
   Mer. Such a one (as before I begin to decypher him)
I dare not affirm to be any thing less than a Courtier.
So much he is, during this open time of Revels, and
would be longer, but that his means are to leave him
shortly after. His name is Hedon, a Gallant wholy con-
secrated to his Pleasures. ———
   Cup. Hedon? he uses much to my Ladies Chamber, I
think.
   Mer. How is she call'd, and then I can shew thee?
   Cup. Madam Philautia.
   Mer. O I, he affects her very particularly indeed.
These are his Graces. He doth (besides me) keep a
Barber and a Monky: He has a rich wrought Wastcoat
to entertain his Visitants in, with a Cap almost sutable.
His Curtains and Bedding are thought to be his own:
his Bathing-tub is not suspected. He loves to have a
Fencer, a Pedant, and a Musician seen in his Lodging
a-mornings.
   Cup. And not a Poet?

[column break]

   Mer. Fie no: himself is a Rimer, and that's thought
better than a Poet. He is not lightly within to his
Mercer, no, though he come when he takes Physick,
which is commonly after his play. He beats a Taylor
very well, but a Stocking-seller admirably: and so con-
sequently any one he owes Money to, that dares not
resist him. He never makes general invitement, but a-
gainst the publishing of a new Sute; marry then you
shall have more drawn to his Lodging, than come to
the lanching of some three Ships; especially if he be
furnish'd with Supplies for the retyring of his old Ward-
robe from pawn: if not, he do's hire a stock of Appar-
rel, and some forty or fifty Pound in Gold, for that
Forenoon to shew. He's thought a very necessary per-
fume for the Presence, and for that only cause welcom
thither: six Milleners Shops afford you not the like
sent.scent He courts Ladies with how many great Horse he
hath rid that Morning, or how oft he hath done the
whole, or the half pommado in a Seven-night before:
and sometime ventures so far upon the vertue of his Po-
mander, that he dares tell 'em, how many Shirts he has
sweat at Tennis that Week, but wisely conceals so many
dozen of Balls he is on the Score. Here he comes, that
is all this.

Act II.    Scene II.

Hedon, Mercury, Anaides, Gelaia, Cupid.

B
Oy.
   Mer. Sir.
   Hed. Are any of the Ladyes in the presence?
   Mer. None yet, Sir.
   Hed. Give me some Gold, more.
   Ana. Is that thy Boy, Hedon?
   Hed. I, what think'st thou of him?
   Ana. I'ld geld him; I warrant he has the Philoso-
phers Stone.
   Hed. Well said, my good melancholy Devil: Sirrah,
I have devis'd one or two of the prettiest Oaths (this
morning in my Bed,) as ever thou heard'st, to protest
withal in the Presence.
   Ana. Prythee, let's hear 'em.
   Hed. Soft, thou'lt use 'em afore me.
   Ana. No, (dam' me then) I have more Oaths than I
know how to utter, by this Air.
   Hed. Faith, one is, by the tip of your Ear, sweet Lady.
Is't not pretty, and gentile?
   Ana. Yes, for the Person 'tis applyed to, a Lady. It
should be light, and ——
   Hed. Nay, the other is better, exceeds it much: the
invention is farther fet too. By the white valley that lies
between the Alpine hills of your bosom, I protest — &c.
   Ana. Well, you travel'd for that, Hedon.
   Mer. I, in a Map, where his Eyes were but blind
guides to his Understanding, it seems.
   Hed. And then I have a salutation will nick all, by
this Caper: hay!
   Ana. How is that?
   Hed. You know I call Madam Philautia, my Honour;
and she calls me her Ambition. Now, (when I meet her
in the Presence anon) I will come to her, and say,
sweet Honour, I have hitherto contented my Sense with the
lillies of your hand, but now I will taste the roses of your lip;
and (withal) kiss her: to which she cannot but blush-
ing answer, nay, now you are too ambitious. And then
do I reply; I cannot be too ambitious of Honour, sweet
lady. Wil't not be good? ha? ha?
   Ana. O, assure your Soul.
   Hed. By Heaven, I think 'twill be excellent, and a
very politick atcheivement of a kiss.
   Ana. I have thought upon one for Moria, of a sudden
too, if it take.
   Hed. What is't my dear Invention?

Ana.


70 Cynthia's Revels.

   Ana. Marry, I will come to her, (and she always
wears a Muff, if you be remembred) and I will tell her,
Madam, your whole self cannot but be perfectly wise: for
your hands have wit enough to keep themselves warm.
   Hed. Now (before Jove) admirable! look, thy Page
takes it too; by Phœbus, my sweet facetious Rascal, I
could eat Water-gruel with thee a Month, for this jest,
my dear Rogue.
   Ana. O, (by Hercules) 'tis your only Dish, above all
your Potato's or Oyster-pyes in the World.
   Hed. I have ruminated upon a most rare wish too, and
the Prophesie to it, but I'll have some friend to be the
Prophet; as thus: I do wish my self one of my Mistresse's
cioppini. Another demands, Why would he be one of his
Mistresse's cioppini? A third answers, Because he would
make her higher. A fourth shall say, That will make her
proud. And a fifth shall conclude: Then do I prophocie
pride will have a fall, and he shall give it her.
   Ana. I'll be your Prophet. By Gods so, it will be
most exquisite; thou art a fine inventious Rogue, Sirrah.
   Hed. Nay, an' I have poesies for Rings too, and riddles
that they dream not of.
   Ana. Tut, they'll do that, when they come to sleep
on 'em, time enough: but were thy devices never in the
Presence yet, Hedon?
   Hed. O, no, I disdain that.
   Ana. 'Twere good we went afore then, and brought
them acquainted with the room where they shall act,
lest the strangeness of it put them out of countenance,
when they should come forth.
   Cup. Is that a Courtier too?
   Mer. Troth no; he has two essential parts of the
Courtier, Pride, and Ignorance; marry, the rest come
somewhat after the ordinary Gallant. 'Tis Impudence it
self, Anaides; one that speaks all that comes in his
Cheeks, and will blush no more than a sackbut. He
lightly occupies the Jesters room at the Table, and keeps
Laughter, Gelaia (a Wench in Pages attire) following
him in place of a Squire, whom he now and then
tickles with some strange ridiculous stuff, utter'd (as his
Land came to him) by chance. He will censure or
discourse of any thing, but as absurdly as you would
wish. His fashion is not to take knowledg of him that is
beneath him in Cloaths. He never drinks below the
salt. He do's naturally admire his Wit that wears
Gold-lace, or Tissue. Stabs any Man that speaks more
contemptibly of the Schollar than he. He is a great
proficient in all the illiberal Sciences, as cheating, drink-
ing, swaggering, whoring, and such like: never kneels
but to pledg Healths, nor prays but for a Pipe of Pud-
ding-tabacco. He will blaspheme in his Shirt. The
Oaths which he vomits at one Supper, would maintain
a Town of Garrison in good swearing a Twelve-month.
One other genuine quality he has, which Crowns all
these, and that is this: to a Friend in want, he will not
depart with the weight of a sodred Groat, lest the World
might censure him Prodigal, or report him a Gull:
marry, to his Cockatrice, or Punquetto, half a dozen
Taffata Gowns, or Sattin Kirtles, in a pair or two of
Months, why they are nothing.
   Cup. I commend him, he is one of my Clients.

Act II.    Scene III.

Amorphus, Asotus, Cos, Prosaites, Cupid. Mercury.

C
Ome Sir. You are now within regard of the Pre-
 sence, and see, the privacy of this Room, how
sweetly it offers it self to our retir'd intendments. Page,
cast a vigilant, and enquiring Eye about, that we be
not rudely surpriz'd, by the approach of some ruder
stranger.
   Cos. I warrant you, Sir. I'll tell you when the Wolf
enters, fear nothing.

[column break]

   Mer. O, what a mass of benefit shall we possess, in be-
ing the invisible Spectators of this strange Show now to
be acted.
   Amo. Plant your self there, Sir: and observe me. You
shall now, as well be the Ocular, as the Ear-witness,
how clearly I can refel that paradox, or rather pseudodox;
of those, which hold the Face to be the Index of the
mind, which (I assure you) is not so, in any politick
Creature: for instance; I will now give you the parti-
cular, and distinct face of every your most noted species
of Persons, as your Merchant, your Schollar, your
Soldier, your Lawyer, Courtier, &c. and each of these
so truly, as you would swear, but that your Eye shall
see the variation of the Lineament, it were my most
proper and genuine aspect. First, for your Merchant,
or City-face, 'tis thus, a dull, plodding Face, still look-
ing in a direct line, forward: there is no great matter
in this Face. Then have you your Students, or aca-
demique Face, which is here, an honest, simple, and
methodical Face: but somewhat more spred than the
former. The third is your Soldiers Face, a menacing,
and astounding Face, that looks broad, and big: the
grace of this Face consisteth much in a Beard. The anti-
face, to this, is your Lawyers Face, a contracted, sub-
tile, and intricate Face, full of quirks, and turnings,
a labyrinthæan Face, now angularly, now circularly, e-
very way aspected. Next is your statist's Face, a seri-
ous, solemn, and supercilious Face, full of formal, and
square Gravity, the Eye (for the most part) deeply and
artificially shadow'd: there is great judgment required
in the making of this Face. But now, to come to your
Face of Faces, or Courtiers Face, 'tis of three sorts,
according to our subdivision of a Courtier, Elementary,
Practick, and Theorick. Your Courtier Theorick, is
he, that hath arriv'd to his farthest, and doth now
know the Court, rather by speculation, than practice;
and this is his Face: a fastidious and oblick Face, that
looks, as it went with a Vice, and were screw'd thus.
Your Courtier Practick, is he, that is yet in his Path,
his course, his way, and hath not toucht the puntilio,
or point of his hope; his Face is here: a most promi-
sing, open, smooth, and over-flowing Face, that seems
as it would run, and pour it self into you. Somewhat
a northerly Face. Your Courtier Elementary, is one
but newly enter'd, or as it were in the alphabet, or ut-re-
mi-fa-sol-la of Courtship. Note well this Face, for it is
this you must practice.
   Aso. I'll practice 'em all, if you please, Sir.
   Amo. I, hereafter you may: and it will not be alto-
gether an ungrateful study. For, let your Soul be as-
sur'd of this (in any rank, or profession whatever) the
more general, or major part of Opinion goes with the
Face, and (simply) respects nothing else. Therefore,
if that can be made exactly, curiously, exquisitely,
thorowly, it is enough: But (for the present) you shall
only apply your self to this Face of the Elementary
Courtier, a light, revelling, and protesting Face, now
blushing, now smiling, which you may help much with
a wanton wagging of your Head, thus, (a Feather will
teach you) or with kissing your Finger that hath the
Ruby, or playing with some String of your Band, which
is a most quaint kind of melancholy besides: or (if a-
mong Ladies) laughing lowd, and crying up your own
Wit, though perhaps borrow'd, it is not amiss. Where
is your Page? call for your Casting-bottle, and place
your mirrour in your Hat, as I told you: so. Come,
look not pale, observe me, set your face, and enter.
   Mer. O, for some excellent Painter, to have tane the
Copy of all these Faces!
   Aso. Prosaites.
   Amo. Fie, I premonish you of that: In the Court,
Boy, Lacquey, or Sirrah.
   Cos. Master, Lupus in ——— O, 'tis Prosaites.

Aso.


Cynthia's Revels. 71

   Aso. Sirrah prepare my Casting-bottle, I think I must
be enforc'd to purchase me another Page, you see how
at hand Cos waits here.
   Mer. So will he too, in time.
   Cup. What's he, Mercury?
   Mer. A notable Smelt. One, that hath newly enter-
tain'd the Begger to follow him, but cannot get him to
wait near enough. 'Tis Asotus, the Heir of Philargyrus;
but first I'll give ye the others Character, which may
make his the clearer. He that is with him is Amorphus
a Traveller, one so made out of the mixture and shreds
of forms, that himself is truly deform'd. He walks
most commonly with a Clove or Pick-tooth in his
Mouth, he is the very mint of Complement, all his Be-
haviours are printed, his Face is another Volume of
Essayes; and his Beard an Aristrachus. He speaks all
Cream skim'd, and more affected than a dozen of wait-
ing Women. He is his own Promoter in every place.
The Wife of the Ordinary gives him his Diet to main-
tain her Table in discourse, which (indeed) is a meer
Tyranny over the other Guests, for he will usurp all
the talk: Ten Constables are not so tedious. He is no
great shifter, once a year his Apparel is ready to revolt.
He doth use much to arbitrate Quarrels, and fights him-
self, exceeding well (out at a Window.) He will lye
cheaper than any Begger, and lowder than most Clocks;
for which he is right properly accommodated to the
Whetstone his Page. The other Gallant is his Zani, and
doth most of these Tricks after him; sweats to imitate
him in every thing (to a Hair) except a Beard, which is
not yet extant. He doth learn to make strange Sauces,
to eat Anchovies, Maccaroni, Bovoli, Fagioli, and Ca-
viare, because he loves 'em; speaks as he speaks, looks,
walks, goes so in Cloaths and Fashion: is in all as if he
were moulded of him. Marry (before they met) he
had other very pretty sufficiencies, which yet he re-
tains some light impression of; as frequenting a dan-
cing School, and grievously torturing strangers with In-
quisition after his grace in his Galliard. He buys a
asecond 'a' an error fresh acquaintance at any rate. His Eyes and his
Raiment confer much together as he goes in the Street.
He treads nicely like the Fellow that walks upon Ropes;
especially the first Sunday of his Silk-stockings; and
when he is most neat and new, you shall strip him
with Commendations.
   Cup. Here comes another.
   Mer. I, but one of another strain, Cupid: This Fel-
[Crites passeth by.
low weighs somewhat.
   Cup. His name, Hermes?
   Mer. Crites. A Creature of a most perfect and divine
Temper: One, in whom the Humours and Elements
are peaceably met, without emulation of Prcedency;Precedency
he is neither too phantastickly Melancholy, too slowly
Phlegmatick, too lightly Sanguine, or too rashly Cho-
lerick, but in all, so compos'd and order'd, as it is clear,
Nature went about some full work, she did more than
make a Man when she made him. His Discourse is like
his Behaviour, uncommon, but not unpleasing; he is
prodigal of neither. He strives rather to be that which
Men call Judicious, than to be thought so; and is so
truly Learned, that he affects not to shew it. He will
think, and speak his thought both freely; but as distant
from depraving another Mans Merit, as proclaiming his
own. For his Valour, 'tis such, that he dares as little
to offer an Injury as receive one. In sum, he hath a most
ingenuous and sweet Spirit, a sharp and season'd Wit,
a straight Judgment, and a strong Mind. Fortune could
never break him, nor make him less. He counts it his
Pleasure to despise Pleasures, and is more delighted with
good Deeds than Goods. It is a competency to him that
he can be Vertuous. He doth neither covet nor fear;
he hath too much reason to do either; and that com-
mends all things to him.
   Cup. Not better than Mercury commends him.

[column break]

   Mer. O, Cupid, 'tis beyond my Deity to give him his
due Praises: I could leave my place in Heaven to live
among Mortals, so I were sure to be no other than he.
   Cup. 'Slight, I believe he is your Minion, you seem to
be so ravisht with him.
   Mer. He's one I would not have a wry thought darted
against, willingly.
   Cup. No, but a straight shaft in his Bosom, I'll pro-
mise him, if I am Citherea's Son.
   Mer. Shall we go, Cupid?
   Cup. Stay, and see the Ladies now: they'll come pre-
sently. I'll help to paint them.
   Mer. What! lay Colour upon Colour? that affords
but an ill blazon.
   Mer.Cup. Here comes Mettal to help it, the Lady Ar-
[Argurion passeth by.
gurion.
   Mer. Money, Money.
   Cup. The same. A Nymph of a most wandring and
giddy Disposition, humourous as the Air, she'll run from
Gallant to Gallant (as they sit at primero in the Pre-
sence) most strangely, and seldom stays with any. She
spreads as she goes. To day you shall have her look
as clear and fresh as the Morning, and to morrow as
melancholick as Mid-night. She takes special pleasure
in a close obscure Lodging, and, for that cause, visits
the City so often, where she has many secret true con-
cealing Favourites. When she comes abroad, she's more
loose and scattering than Dust, and will fly from place
to place, as she were rapt with a Whirl-wind. Your
young Student (for the most part) she affects not, only
salutes him, and away: a Poet, nor a Philosopher, she is
hardly brought to take any notice of, no, though he be
some part of an Alchemist. She loves a Player well, and
a Lawyer infinitely: but your Fool above all. She can
do much in Court for the obtaining of any Sute what-
soever, no Door but flies open to her, her Presence is
above a Charm. The worst in her is want of keeping
State, and too much descending into inferior and base
Offices, she's for any course Employment you will put
upon her, as to be your Procurer, or Pandar.
   Mer. Peace, Cupid, here comes more work for you,
another Character or two.

Act II.    Scene IV.

Phantaste, Moria, Philautia, Mercury, Cupid.

S
Tay, sweet Philautia, I'll but change my Fan, and go
 presently.
   Mor. Now (in very good serious) Ladies, I will have
this Order reverst, the presence must be better main-
tain'd from you: a Quarter past Eleven, and ne're a
Nymph in prospective? beshrew my hand, there must be
a reform'd discipline. Is that your new Ruff, sweet
Lady-bird? By my truth, 'tis most intricately rare.
   Mer. Good Jove, what Reverend Gentlewoman in
years might this be.
   Cup. 'Tis, Madam Moria, Guardian of the Nymphs.
One that is not now to be perswaded of her Wit, she
will think her self wise against all the Judgments
that come. A Lady made all of Voice and Air, talks
any thing of any thing. She is like one of your igno-
rant Poetasters of the time, who when they have got
acquainted with a strange word, never rest till they have
wrongwrung it in, though it loosen the whole Fabrick of their
Sense.
   Mer. That was pretty and sharply noted, Cupid.
   Cup. She will tell you, Philosophy was a fine Reveller,
when she was young, and a Gallant, and that then
(though she say it) she was thought to be the Dame-
Dido, and Helen of the Court: As also, what a sweet
Dog she had this time four years, and how it was call'd
Fortune, and that (if the Fates had not cut his thred) he
had been a Dog to have given entertainment to any Gal-
lant


72 Cynthia's Revels.

lant in this Kingdom: and unless she had whelpt it her
self, she could not have lov'd a thing better i' this
World.
   Mer. O, I prithee no more, I am full of her.
   Cup. Yes (I must needs tell you) she composes a Sack-
posset well; and would court a young Page sweetly,
but that her breath is against it.
   Mer. Now, her Breath (or something more strong)
protect me from her: th'other, th'other, Cupid.
   Cup. O, that's my Lady and Mistress, Madam Phi-
lautia. She admires not her self for any one particula-
rity, but for all: she is fair, and she knows it: she has a
pretty light wit too, and she knows it: she can dance,
and she knows that too: play at Shittle-cock, and
that too: no quality she had, but she shall take a very
particular knowledg of, and most Lady-like commend
it to you. You shall have her at any time read you the
History of her self, and very subtilly run over another
Ladies sufficiencies, to come to her own. She has a
good superficial Judgment in Painting; and would seem
to have so in Poetry. A most compleat Lady in the Opi-
nion of some three beside her self.
   Phi. Faith, how lik'd you my quippe to Hedon, about
the Garter? was't not witty?
   Mor. Exceeding witty and integrate: you did so ag-
gravate the Jest withal.
   Phi. And did I not dance movingly the last night?
   Mor. Movingly? out of measure (in troth) sweet
Charge.
   Mer. A happy commendation, to dance out of mea-
sure.
   Mor. Save you wanted the swim i' the turn: O!
when I was at Fourteen ——
   Phi. Nay, that's mine own from any Nymph in the
Court (I am sure on't) therefore you mistake me in
that, Guardian: both the swim and the trip, are proper-
ly mine, every body will affirm it, that has any judg-
ment in dancing: I assure you.
   Pha. Come now, Philautia, I am for you, shall we go?
   Phi. I, good Phantaste: What! have you chang'd your
Head-tire?
   Pha. Yes faith, th'other was so near the Common:
it had no extraordinary grace; besides, I had worn it
almost a day, in good troth.
   Phi. I'll be sworn, this is most excellent for the device,
and rare. 'Tis after the Italian print, we look'd on
t'other night.
   Pha. 'Tis so: By this Fan, I cannot abide any thing
that favours the poor over-worn cut, that has any kin-
dred with it; I must have variety, I: this mixing in
fashion, I hate it worse than to burn Juniper in my
Chamber, I protest.
   Phi. And yet we cannot have a new peculiar Court-
tire, but these Retainers will have it; these Suburb-sunday-
waiters; these Courtiers for high days; I know not what
I should call 'em ——
   Pha. O, I, they do most pitifully imitate, but I have
a Tire a coming (y' faith) shall ——
   Mor. In good certain, Madam, it makes you look
most Heavenly; but (lay your hand on your Heart)
you never skin'd a new Beauty more prosperously in
you life, nor more metaphysically: look, good Lady,
sweet Lady, look.
   Phi. 'Tis very clear, and well, believe me. But if you
had seen mine yesterday, when 'twas young, you would
have —— who's your Doctor, Phantaste?
   Pha. Nay, that's counsel, Philautia, you shall pardon
me: yet (I'll assure you) he's the most dainty, sweet,
absolute, rare Man of the whole Colledge. O! his very
looks, his discourse, his behaviour, all he does is Physick,
I protest.
   Phi. For Heavens sake, his name; good, dear Phan-
taste ——
   Pha. No, no, no, no, no, no, (believe me) not for

[column break]

a Million of Heavens: I will not make him cheap.
Fie ——
   Cup. There is a Nymph too, of a most curious and e-
laborate strain, light, all motion, an ubiquitary, she is
every where, Phantaste ——
   Mer. Her very name speaks her, let her pass. But are
these (Cupid) the Stars of Cynthia's Court? do these
Nymphs attend upon Diana?
   Cup. They are in her Court (Mercury) but not as
Stars, these never come in the Presence of Cynthia.
The Nymphs that make her Train, are, the Divine Arete,
Time, Phronesis, Thauma, and others of that high sort.
These are privately brought in by Moria in this licen-
tious time, against her knowledg: and (like so many
Meteors) will vanish, when she appears.

Act II.    Scene V.

Prosaites, Gelaia, Cos, Mercury, Cupid.

S O N G.

C
Ome follow me, my wags, and say as I say.
 There's no riches but in rags; hey day, hey day.
You that profess this Art, come away, come away,
And help to bear a part. Hey day; hey day, &c.

   Mer. What! those that were our fellow Pages but now,
so soon preferr'd to be Yeomen of the Bottles? the
Mystery, the Mystery, good wags?
   Cup. Some Diet-drink they have the guard of?
   Pro. No, Sir, we are going in quest of a strange Foun-
tain, lately found out.
   Cup. By whom?
   Cos. My Master, or the great discoverer, Amorphus.
   Mer. Thou hast well intitled him, Cos, for he will
discover all he knows.
   Gel. I, and a little more too, when the Spirit is upon
him.
   Pro. O, the good travelling Gentleman yonder has
caus'd such a drought i' the Presence, with reporting
the wonders of this new Water; that all the Ladies,
and Gallants, lye languishing upon the Rushes, like so
many pounded Cattle i' the midst of Harvest,
sighing one to another, and gasping, as if each of them
expected a Cock from the Fountain, to be brought into
his Mouth: and (without we return quickly) they are
all (as a youth would say) no better than a few Trowts
cast a-shore, or a Dish of Eeles in a Sand-bag.
   Mer. Well then, you were best dispatch, and have a
care of them. Come Cupid, thou and I'll go pe-
ruse this dry wonder.


Act III.    Scene I.

Amorphus, Asotus.

S
Ir, let not this dis-countenance, or dis-gallant you a
 whit: you must not sink under the first disaster. It
is with your young Grammatical Courtier, as with your
Neophyte Player, a thing usual to be daunted at the first
Presence, or Enter-view: you saw, there was Hedon,
and Anaides, (far more practis'd Gallants than your self)
who were both out, to comfort you. It is no disgrace,
no more, than for your adventrous Reveller, to fall by
some inauspicious chance in his Galliard, or for some
subtil politick, to undertake the Bastinado, that the State
might think worthily of him, and respect him as a Man
well beaten to the World. What! hath your Taylor
provided the Property (we spake of) at your Cham-
ber, or no?
   Aso. I think he has.

Amo.


Cynthia's Revels. 73

   Amo. Nay (I intreat you) be not so flat and melan-
cholick. Erect your mind: you shall redeem this with
the Courtship I will teach you against Afternoon. Where
eat you to day?
   Aso. Where you please, Sir, any where, I.
   Amo. Come, let us go and taste some light Dinner, a
Dish of slic'd caviare, or so, and after, you shall practise
an hour at your Lodging some few Forms that I have
recall'd. If you had but so far gathered your Spirits
to you, as to have taken up a Rush (when you were out)
and wagg'd it thus, or clens'd your Teeth with it: or but
turn'd aside, and fain'd some business to whisper with
your Page, till you had recover'd your self, or but found
some slight stain in your Stocking, or any other pretty
Invention (so it had been sudden,) you might have come
off with a most clear and courtly grace.
   Aso. A poyson of all, I think I was forespoke, I.
   Amo. No, I must tell you, you are not audacious
enough, you must frequent Ordinaries, a Month more,
to initiate you self: In which time, it will not be amiss,
if (in private) you keep good your acquaintance with
Crites, or some other of his poor Coat; visit his Lodg-
ing secretly and often; become an earnest suter to hear
some of his Labours.
   Aso. O Jove! Sir, I could never get him to read a
Line to me.
   Amo. You must then wisely mix your self in Rank
with such as you know can: and, as your Ears do meet
with a new Phrase, or an acute Jest, take it in: a quick
nimble Memory will lift it away, and, at your next
publick Meal it is your own.
   Aso. But I shall never utter it perfectly, Sir.
   Amo. No matter, let it come lame. In ordinary talk
you shall play it away, as you do your light Crowns at
primero: It will pass.
   Aso. I shall attempt, Sir.
   Amo. Do. It is your shifting age for wit, and I assure
you, Men must be Prudent. After this, you may to
court, and there fall in, first with the Waiting-woman,
then with the Lady. Put case they do retain you
there, as a fit Property, to hire Coaches some pair of
Months, or so; or to read them asleep in Afternoons up-
on some pretty Pamphlet to breath you; why, it shall
in time imbolden you to some farther Atchievment: In
the interim, you may fashion your self to be careless
and impudent. ——
   Aso. How if they would have me to make Verses? I
heard Hedon spoke to for some.
   Amo. Why, you must prove the aptitude of your Ge-
nius; if you find none, you must harken out a Vein,
and buy; provided you pay for the silence as for the
work; then you may securely call it your own.
   Aso. Yes, and I'll give out my Acquaintance with all
the best Writers, to countenance me the more.
   Amo. Rather seem not to know 'em, it is your best.
I. Be wise, that you never so much as mention the
name of one, nor remember it mention'd; but if they
be offer'd to you in discourse, shake you light Head,
make between a sad and a smiling Face, pitty some, rail
at all, and commend your self: 'tis your only safe, and
unsuspected course. Come, you shall look back upon
the Court again to day, and be restor'd to your Colours:
I do now partly aim at the cause of your repulse ——
(which was ominous indeed) for as you enter at the
Door, there is oppos'd to you the frame of a Woolf in
the Hangings, which (surprizing your eye suddenly) gave
a false alarm to the Heart; and that was it call'd your
Blood out of your Face, and so rowted the whole rank
of your Spirits: I beseech you labour to forget it. And
remember (as I inculcated to you before, for your com-
fort) Hedon, and Anaides.

[column break]

Act III.    Scene II.

Hedon, Anaides.

H
Eart, was there ever so prosperous an invention thus
 unluckily perverted, and spoyl'd by a Whore-son,
Book-worm, a Candle-waster?
   Ana. Nay, be not impatient, Hedon.
   Hed. 'Slight, I would fain know his name.
   Ana. Hang him, poor grogran-rascal, prithee think
not of him: I'll send for him to my Lodging, and have
him blanketted when thou wilt, Man.
   Hed. By Gods so; I would thou could'st. Look, here
he comes. Laugh at him, laugh at him, ha, ha, ha.
[Crites passeth by.

   Ana. Fough, he smells all Lamp-oyl with studying by
Candle-light.
   Hed. How confidently he went by us, and carelesly!
never mov'd! nor stirr'd at any thing! did you observe
him?
   Ana. I, a pox on him, let him go, Dormouse; he is
in a dream now. He has no other time to sleep, but
thus when he walks abroad to take the Air.
   Hed. Gods precious, this afflicts me more than all the
rest, that we should so particularly direct our hate and
contempt against him, and he to carry it thus without
wound or passion! 'tis insufferable.
   Ana. 'Slid, (my dear Envy) if thou but saist the
word now, I'll undo him eternally for thee.
   Hed. How, sweet Anaides?
   Ana. Marry half a score of us get him in (one night)
and make him pawn his Wit for a Supper.
   Hed. Away, thou hast such unseasonable Jests. By this
Heaven, I wonder at nothing more than our Gentle-
men-ushers, that will suffer a piece of Serge, or Perpetua-
na to come into the Presence: methinks they should
(out of their experience) better distinguish the silken
Disposition of Courtiers, than to let such terrible course
Rags mix with us, able to fret any smooth or gentle So-
ciety to the Threds with their rubbing Devices.
   Ana. Unless 'twere Lent, Ember-weeks, or Fasting-days,
when the place is most penuriously empty of all other
good out-sides. Dam me, if I should adventure on his
Company once more, without a Sute of Buff to defend
my Wit; he does nothing but stab the slave: how mis-
chievously he cross'd thy device of the prophesie there?
And Moria, she comes without her Muff too, and there
my invention was lost.
   Hed. Well, I am resolv'd what I'll do.
   Ana. What, my good spirituous Spark?
   Hed. Marry, speak all the Venom I can of him; and
poyson his Reputation in every place where I come.
   Ana. 'Fore God, most courtly.
   Hed. And if I chance to be present where any que-
stion is made of his sufficiencies, or of any thing he hath
done private or publick, I'll censure it slightly and ridi-
culously. ——
   Ana. At any hand beware of that, so thou maist draw
thine own Judgment in suspect. No, I'll instruct thee
what thou shalt do, and by a safer means: Approve any
thing thou hearest of his, to the receiv'd Opinion of it;
but if it be extraordinary, give it from him to some o-
ther whom thou more particularly affect'st; that's the
way to plague him, and he shall never come to defend
himself. 'Slud, I'll give out all he does is dictated from
other Men, and swear it too (if thou'lt ha' me) and
that I know the time and place where he stole it, though
my Soul be guilty of no such thing; and that I think,
out of my Heart, he hates such barren shifts: yet to do
thee a pleasure, and him a disgrace, I'll dam my self,
or do any thing.
   Hed. Gramercy, my dear Devil: we'll put it seriously
in practice, y' faith.
L                                           Act


74 Cynthia's Revels.

Act III.    Scene III.

Crites.

D
O, good Detraction, do, and I the while
 Shall shake thy spight off with a careless smile.
Poor pittious Gallants! What lean idle sleights
Their thoughts suggest to flatter their starv'd hopes?
As if I knew not how to entertain
These Straw-devices: but, of force, must yield
To the weak stroke of their calumnious Tongues.
What should I care what every dor doth buz
In credulous Ears? it is a Crown to me,
That the best judgments can report me wrong'd;
Them lyars; and their slanders impudent.
Perhaps (upon the rumour of their Speeches)
Some grieved Friend will whisper to me; Crites,
Men speak ill of thee. So they be ill Men;
If they spake worse, 'twere better: for of such
To be disprais'd, is the most perfect praise.
What can his censure hurt me, whom the World
Hath censur'd vile before me? If good Chrestus,
Euthus, or Phronimus, had spoke the words,
They could have mov'd me, and I should have call'd
My Thoughts, and Actions, to a strict accompt
Upon the hearing: But when I remember,
'Tis Hedon and Anaides: alas, then,
I think but what they are, and am not stirr'd.
The one, a light voluptuous Reveller,
The other a strange arrogating Puff,
Both impudent, and ignorant enough;
That talk (as they are wont) not as I merit:
Traduce by custom, as most Dogs do bark,
Do nothing out of judgment, but disease,
Speak ill, because they never could speak well.
And who'ld be angry with this Race of Creatures?
What wise Physician have we ever seen
Mov'd with a frantick Man? the same affects
That he doth bear to his sick Patient,
Should a right mind carry to such as these:
And I do count it a most rare revenge,
That I can thus (with such a sweet neglect)
Pluck from them all the pleasure of their malice.
For that's the Mark of all their inginous drifts,
To wound my patience, howsoe're they seem
To aim at other objects: which if miss'd
Their envy's like an Arrow, shot upright,
That, in the fall, indangers their own Heads.

Act III.    Scene IV.

Arete, Crites.

W
Hat, Crites! where have you drawn forth the day?
 You have not visited your jealous Friends?
   Cri. Where I have seen (most honour'd Arete,)
The strangest pageant, fashion'd like a Court,
(At least I dream't I saw it) so diffus'd,
So painted, pyed, and full of Rainbow strains,
As never yet (either by time, or place)
Was made the Food to my distasted sense:
Nor can my weak imperfect Memory
Now render half the forms unto my Tongue,
That were convolv'd within this thrifty room.
Here, stalks me by a proud and spangled Sir,
That looks three hand-fulls higher than his Foretop;
Savours himself alone, is only kind
And loving to himself: one that will speak
More dark, and doubtful than six Oracles;
Salutes a Friend, as if he had a stich,
Is his own Chronicle, and scarce can eat
For registring himself: is waited on
By Mimicks, Jesters, Pandars, Parasites,

[column break]

And other such like Prodigies of Men.
He past, appears some mincing Marmoset
Made all of Clothes, and Face; his Limbs so set
As if they had some voluntary act
Without Mans motion, and must move just so
In spite of their Creation: one that weighs
His Breath between his Teeth, and dares not smile
Beyond a point, for fear t'unstarch his look;
Hath travel'd to make Legs, and seen the Cringe
Of several Courts, and Courtiers; knows the time
Of giving Titles, and of taking Walls;
Hath read Court-common-places; made them his:
Studied the Grammar of state, and all the Rules
Each formal Usher in that politick School
Can teach a Man. A third comes giving nods
To his repenting Creditors, protests
To weeping Sutors, takes the coming Gold
Of insolent, and base Ambition,
That hourly rubs his dry and itchy Palms:
Which grip't, like burning Coals, he hurls away
Into the Laps of Bawds, and Buffoons Mouths.
With him there meets some subtile Proteus, one
Can change, and vary with all forms he sees;
Be any thing but honest; serves the time;
Hovers betwixt two Factions, and explores
The drifts of both; which (with cross Face) he bereasbears
To the divided Heads, and is receiv'd
With mutual grace of either: one that dares
Do deeds worthy the Hurdle, or the Wheel,
To be thought some body; and is (in sooth)
Such as the Satyrist points truly forth,
That only to his Crimes owes all his worth.
   Are. You tell us wonders, Crites.
   Cri. This is nothing.
There stands a Neophyte glazing of his Face,
Pruning his Clothes, perfuming of his Hair,
Against his Idol enters; and repeats
(Like an unperfect Prologue, at third Musick)
His part of Speeches, and confederate Jests,
In passion to himself. Another swears
His Scene of Courtship over; bids, believe him,
Twenty times e're they will; anon, doth seem
As he would kiss away his Hand in kindness;
Then walks as melancholick, and stands wreath'd,
As he were pinn'd up to the Arras, thus.
A third is most in action, swims, and frisks,
Plays with his Mistresses Paps, salutes here Pumps,
Adores her Hems, her Skirts, her Knots, her Curls,
Will spend his Patrimony for a Garter,
Or the least Feather in her bounteous Fan.
A fourth, he only comes in for a mute:
Divides the Act with a dumb shew, and Exit.
Then must the Ladies laugh, strait comes their Scene,
A sixth time worse confusion than the rest.
Where you shall hear one talk of this Mans Eye;
Another, of his Lip; a third, of his Nose;
A fourth commend his Leg; a fifth his Foot;
A sixt his hand; and every one a Limb:
That you would think the poor distorted Gallant
Must there expire. Then fall they in discourse
Of Tires and Fashions, how they must take place,
Where they may kiss, and whom, when to sit down,
And with what grace to rise; if they salute,
What curtesie they must use: such Cob-web stuff,
As would enforce the common'st sense abhor
Th' Arachnean workers.
   Are. Patience, gentle Crites.
This knot of Spiders will be soon dissolv'd,
And all their Webs swept out of Cynthia's Court,
When once her glorious Deity appears,
And but presents it self in her full light:
Till when, go in, and spend your hours with us
Your honour'd Friends, Time and Phronesis,
In Contemplation of our Goddess Name.
Think


Cynthia's Revels. 75

Think on some sweet and choice invention, now,
Worthy her serous and illustrious Eyes,
That from the merit of it we may take
Desir'd occasion to prefer your worth,
And make your service known to Cynthia.
It is the pride of Arete to grace
Her studious lovers; and (in scorn of Time,
Envy, and Ignorance) to lift their state
Above a vulgar height. True happiness
Consists not in the multitude of friends,
But in the worth, and choice. Nor would I have
Vertue a popular regard pursue:
Let them be good that love me, though but few.
   Cri. I kiss thy hands, divinest Arete,
And vow my self to thee, and Cynthia.

Act III.    Scene V.

Amorphus, Asotus.

A
 Little more forward: So, Sir. Now go in, dis-
  cloke your self, and come forth. Taylor, bestow
thy absence upon us; and be not prodigal of this secret,
but to a dear Customer. 'Tis well enter'd, Sir,should be end of sentence Stay,
you come on too fast; your pace is too impetuous. Ima-
gine this to be the palace of your pleasure, or place
where your Lady is pleas'd to be seen. First, you pre-
sent your self, thus: and spying her, you fall off, and
walk some two turns; in which time, it is to be suppos'd,
your passion hath sufficiently whited your Face: then
(stifling a sigh or two, and closing your Lips) with a
trembling boldness, and bold terrour, you advance your
self forward. Prove thus much, I pray you.
   Aso. Yes, Sir, (pray Jove I can light on it.) Here, I
come in, you say, and present my self?
   Amo. Good.
   Aso. And then I spy her, and walk off?
   Amo. Very good.
   Aso. Now, Sir, I stifle, and advance forward?
   Amo. Trembling.
   Aso. Yes, Sir, trembling: I shall do it better when I
come to it. And what must I speak now?
   Amo. Marry, you shall say: Dear beauty, or, sweet
honour (or by what other Title you please to remember
her) methinks you are melancholy. This is, if she be
alone now, and discompanied.
   Aso. Well, Sir, I'll enter again; her Title shall be,
My dear Lindabrides.
   Amo. Lindabrides?
   Aso. I, Sir, the Emperor Alicandroes Daughter, and
the Prince Meridians Sister (in the Knight of the Sun)
she should have been married to him, but that the Prin-
cess Claridiana ———
   Amo. O, you betray your reading.
   Aso. Nay, Sir, I have read History, I am a little
humanitian. Interrupt me not, good Sir. My dear Lin-
dabrides, My dear Lindabrides, My dear Lindabrides, me-
thinks you are melancholy.
   Amo. Or thus, Sir. All variety of divine Pleasures,
choice Sports, sweet Musick, rich Fare, brave Attire,
soft Beds, and silken Thoughts, attend this dear Beauty.
   Aso. Believe me, that's pretty. All variety of divine
Pleasures, choice Sports, sweet Musick, rich Fare,
brave Attires, soft Beds, and silken Thoughts, attend
this dear Beauty.
   Amo. And then, offering to kiss her Hand, if she shall
coyly recoil, and signifie your Repulse; you are to re-
enforce your self, with, More than most fair Lady, let
not the rigour of your just disdain thus coursly censure
of your Servants zeal; and withal, protest to her to be
the only and absolute unparalell'd Creature you do

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adore, and admire, and respect, and reverence, in this
Court, corner of the World, or Kingdom.
   Aso. This is hard, by my faith. I'll begin it all again.
   Amo. Do so, and I will act it for your Lady.
   Aso. Will you vouchsafe, Sir? All variety of divine
Pleasures, choice Sports, sweet Musick, rich Fare, brave
Attire, soft Beds, and silken Thoughts attend this dear
Beauty.
   Amo. So, Sir, pray you away.
   Aso. More than most fair Lady, let not the Rigour of
your just disdain, thus coursly censure of your Servants
zeal, I protest, you are the only, and absolute, unap-
parelled ———
   Amo. Unparalell'd.
   Aso. Unparalell'd Creature, I do adore, and admire,
and respect, and reverence, in this Court, corner of the
World, or Kingdom.
   Amo. This is, if she abide you. But now, put the
Case she should be passant when you enter, as thus: you
are to frame your Gate thereafter, and call upon her,
Lady, Nymph, sweet refuge, Star of our Court. Then
if she be guardant, hear: you are to come on, and (la-
terally disposing your self) swear, by her blushing and
well coloured Cheek, the bright dye of her Hair, her
Ivory Teeth (though they be Ebony) or some such
white and innocent Oath, to induce you. If reguar-
dant, then maintain your Station, brisk, and irpe, shew
the supple motion of your pliant Body, but (in chief)
of your Knee, and Hand, which cannot but arride her
proud Humour exceedingly.
   Aso. I conceive you, Sir, I shall perform all these
things in good time, I doubt not, they do so hit me.
   Amo. Well, Sir, I am your Lady; make use of any
of these beginnings, or some other out of your own in-
vention; and prove, how you can hold up, and follow
it. Say, say.
   Aso. Yes, Sir, my dear Lindabrides. ———
   Amo. No, you affect that Lindabrides too much. And
(let me tell you) it is not so courtly. Your Pedant
should provide you some Parcels of French, or some
pretty Commodity of Italian to commence with, if you
would be exotick and exquisite.
   Aso. Yes, Sir, he was at my Lodging t'other Morn-
ing, I gave him a Doublet.
   Amo. Double your Benevolence, and give him the
Hose too, clothe you his Body, he will help to apparel
your Mind. But now, see what your proper Genius can
perform alone, without adjection of any other Minerva.
   Aso. I comprehend you, Sir.
   Amo. I do stand you, Sir: fall back to your first place.
Good, passing well: Very properly pursu'd.
   Aso. Beautiful, ambiguous, and sufficient Lady, what!
are you all alone?
   Amo. We would be, Sir, if you would leave us.
   Aso. I am at your Beauties appointment, bright An-
gel; but ———
   Amo. What but?
   Aso. No harm, more than most fair Feature.
   Amo. That touch relished well.
   Aso. But, I protest ———
   Amo. And why should you protest?
   Aso. For good will (dear esteem'd Madam) and I
hope, your Ladyship will so conceive of it:
And will, in time, return from your disdain,
And rue the suffrance of our friendly pain.
   Amo. O, that Piece was excellent! if you could pick
out more of these Play-particles, and (as occasion shall
salute you) embroider, or damask your discourse with
them, perswade your Soul, it would most judiciously
commend you. Come, this was a well discharg'd, and
auspicious bout. Prove the second.
   Aso. Lady, I cannot ruffle it in red and yellow.
   Amo. Why, if you can revel it in white, Sir, 'tis suf-
ficient.
L 2                                          Aso.


76 Cynthia's Revels.

   Aso. Say you so, sweet Lady? Lan, tede, de, de, de,
dant, dant, dant, dante, &c. No (in good faith) Ma-
dam, whosoever told your Ladyship so, abus'd you;
but I would be glad to meet your Ladyship in a measure.
   Amo. Me, Sir? belike you measure me by your self,
then?
   Aso. Would I might, fair Feature.
   Amo. And what were you the better, if you might?
   Aso. The better to please you to ask, fair Lady.
   Amo. Why, this was ravishing, and most acutely con-
tinu'd. Well, spend not your humour too much, you
have now competently exercised your conceit: This
(once or twice a day) will render you an accomplisht
elaborate, and well levelled Gallant. Convey in your
Courting-stock, we will (in the heat of this) go visit
the Nymphs Chamber.

Act IV.    Scene I.

Phantaste, Philautia, Argurion, Moria, Cupid.

I
 Would this Water would arrive once, our travelling
 Friend so commended to us.
   Arg. So would I, for he has left all us in travel with
expectation of it.
   Pha. Pray Jove, I never rise from this Couch, if ever
I thirsted more for a thing, in my whole time of being
a Courtier.
   Phi. Nor I, I'll be sworn: The very mention of it
sets my Lips in a worse heat, than if he had sprinkled
them with Mercury. Reach me the Glass, Sirrah.
   Cup. Here, Lady.
   Mor. They do not peel, sweet Charge, do they?
   Phi. Yes, a little, Guardian.
   Mor. O, 'tis an eminent good sign. Ever when my
Lips do so, I am sure to have some delicious good drink
or other approaching.
   Arg. Marry, and this may be good for us Ladies: for
(it seems) 'tis far fet by their stay.
   Mor. My Palate for yours (dear Honor) it shall prove
most Elegant, I warrant you: O, I do fancy this gear
that's long a coming, with an unmeasurable strain.
   Pha. Pray thee sit down, Philautia, that Rebatu be-
comes thee singularly.
   Phi. Is't not quaint?
   Pha. Yes faith. Methinks, thy Servant Hedon is no-
thing so obsequious to thee, as he was wont to be: I
know not how, he's grown out of his Garb a late, he's
wrapt.
   Mor. In trueness, and so methinks too; he's much
converted.
   Phi. Tut, let him be what he will, 'tis an animal I
dream not of. This tire (methinks) makes me look
very ingeniously, quick, and spirited, I should be some
Laura, or some Delia, methinks.
   Mor. As I am wise (fair Honors) that Title she gave
him, to be her Ambition, spoil'd him: Before, he was
the most propitious and observant young Novice —
   Pha. No, no, you are the whole Heaven awry, Guar-
dian: 'tis the swaggering Coach-horse Anaides, draws
with him there, has been the diverter of him.
   Phi. For Cupid's sake, speak no more of him; would
I might never dare to look in a Mirror again, if I respect
e're a Marmaset of 'em all, otherwise than I would a
Feather, or my Shittle-cock, to make sport with now
and then.
   Pha. Come, sit down; troth (an' you be good Beau-
ties) let's run over 'em all now: Which is the proper'st
Man amongst them! I say, the Traveller, Amorphus.
   Phi. O, fie on him, he looks like a Venetian Trumpe-
ter, i' the Battel of Lepanto, in the Gallery yonder;
and speaks to the Tune of a Country Lady, that comes
ever i' the rereward,rearward or train of a Fashion.

[column break]

   Mor. I should have judgment in a Feature, sweet
Beauties.
   Pha. A body would think so, at these years.
   Mor. And I prefer another now, far before him, a
Million at least.
   Pha. Who might that be, Guardian?
   Mor. Marry (fair Charge) Anaides.
   Pha. Anaides! you talk't of a Tune Philautia, there's
one speaks in a Key; like the opening of some Justices
Gate, or a Post-boys Horn, as if his Voyce fear'd an
arrest for some ill words it should give, and were loth to
come forth.
   Phi. I, and he has a very imperfect Face.
   Pha. Like a Sea-monster, that were to ravish Andro-
meda from the Rock.
   Phi. His Hand's too great too, by at least a straws
breadth.
   Pha. Nay, he has a worse fault than that, too.
   Phi. A long Heel?
   Pha. That were a fault in a Lady, rather than him:
No, they say, he puts off the Calves of his Legs, with
his Stockings every night.
   Phi. Out upon him: turn to another of the Pictures,
for loves sake. What says Argurion? whom do's she
commend, afore the rest?
   Cup. I hope, I have instructed her sufficiently for an
answer.
   Mor. Troth, I made the motion to her Ladiship for
one to day, i' the Presence, but it appear'd she was
other ways furnisht before: She would none.
   Pha. Who was that, Argurion?
   Mor. Marry, the poor plain Gentleman, i' the black,
there.
   Pha. Who, Crites?
   Arg. I, I, he. A fellow, that no body so much as
look't upon, or regarded, and she would have had me
done him particular grace.
   Pha. That was a true trick of your self, Moria, to
perswade Argurion to affect the Schollar.
   Arg. Tut, but she shall be no chuser for me. In good
faith, I like the Citizens Son there, Asotus; methinks,
none of them all come near him.
   Pha. Not Hedon?
   Arg. Hedon? in troth no. Hedon's a pretty slight
Courtier, and he wears his Clothes well, and sometimes
in fashion; Marry, his Face is but indifferent, and he
has no such excellent Body. No, th'other is a most de-
licate Youth, a sweet Face, a straight Body, a well pro-
portion'd Leg and Foot, a white Hand, a tender Voyce.
   Phi. How now, Argurion?
   Pha. O, you should have let her alone, she was be-
stowing a Copy of him upon us. Such a Nose were e-
nough to make me love a Man, now.
   Phi. And then his several Colours, he wears; where-
in he flourisheth changeably, every day.
   Pha. O, but his short Hair, and his narrow Eyes!
   Phi. Why, she dotes more palpably upon him, than
e're his Father did upon her.
   Pha. Believe me, the young Gentleman deserves it. If
she could dote more, 'twere not amiss. He is an ex-
ceeding proper youth, and would have made a most neat
Barber-surgion, if he had been put to it in time.
   Phi. Say you so? methinks he looks like a Taylor al-
ready.
   Pha. I, that had sayed on one of his Customers Sutes.
His Face is like a squeez'd Orange, or ——
   Arg. Well, Ladies, jest on: the best of you both
would be glad of such a Servant.
   Mor. I, I'll be sworn would they, though he be a lit-
tle shame-fac'd.
   Pha. Shame-fac'd, Moria! out upon him. Your shame-
fac'd Servant is your only Gull.
   Mor. Go to, Beauties, make much of Time, and Place,
and Occasion, and Opportunity, and Favourites, and
things


Cynthia's Revels. 77

things that belong to 'em, for I'll ensure you, they will
all relinquish; they cannot endure above another year;
I know it out of future experience: and therefore take
exhibition, and warning. I was once a Reveller my self,
and though I speak it (as mine own Trumpet) I was then
esteem'd ——
   Phi. The very March-bane of the Court, I warrant
you?
   Pha. And all the Gallants came about you like flyes,
did they not?
   Mor. Go to, they did somewhat, that's no matter
now.
   Pha. Nay, good Moria, be not angry. Put case that
we four now had the grant from Juno, to wish our
selves into what happy Estate we could? what would
you wish to be, Moria?
   Mor. Who I? Let me see now. I would wish to be a
Wise-woman, and know all the secrets of Court, City,
and Country. I would know what were done behind
the Arras, what upon the Stairs, what i' the Garden,
what i' the Nymphs Chamber, what by Barge, and by
what Coach. I would tell you which Courtier were scab-
bed, and which not; which Lady had her own Face to
lye with her a nights, and which not; who put off their
Teeth with their Clothes in Court, who their Hair, who
their Complexion; and in which Box they put it. There
should not a Nymph, or a Widdow be got with Child i'
the Verge, but I would guess (within one or two,) who
was the right Father: and in what Month it was gotten;
with what words; and which way. I would tell you,
which Madam lov'd a Monsieur, which a Player, which
a Page; who slept with her Husband, who with her
Friend, who with her Gentleman-usher, who with her
Horse-keeper, who with her Monkey, and who with all.
Yes, and who jigg'd the Cock too.
   Pha. Fye, you'ld tell all, Moria. If I should wish now,
it should be too have your Tongue out. But what says
Philautia? who would she be?
   Phi. Troth, the very same I am. Only I would wish
my self a little more Command and Soveraignty; that
all the Court were subject to my absolute beck, and all
things in it depending on my look; as if there were no
other Heaven, but in my smile, nor other Hell, but in
my frown; that I might send for any Man I list, and
have his Head cut off, when I have done with him; or
made an Eunuch, if he denyed me: and if I saw a bet-
ter Face than my own, I might have my Doctor to
poyson it. What would you wish, Phantaste?
   Pha. Faith, I cannot (readily) tell you what: But
(methinks) I should wish my self all manner of Crea-
tures. Now, I would be an Empress; and by and by a
Dutchess; then a great Lady of State; then one of
your miscellany Madams; then a Waiting-woman; then
your Citizens Wife; then a coursecoarse Country Gentlewo-
man; then a Deyry-maid; then a Shepherds Lass; then
an Empress again, or the Queen of Fayries: And thus
I would prove the vicissitudes and whirl of Pleasures, a-
bout, and again. As I were a Shepherdess, I would be
pip'd and sung to; as a Country Gentlewoman, keep
a good House, and come up to Term, to see motions;
As a Citizens Wife, be troubled with a jealous Husband,
and put to my shifts; (others miseries should be my Plea-
sures.) As a Waiting-woman, I would taste my Ladies
delights to her: As a miscellany Madam invent new Tyres,
and go visit Courtiers: As a great Lady, lye a Bed, and
have Courtiers visit me: As a Dutchess, I would keep
my State; and as an Empress I'ld do any thing. And,
in all these shapes, I would ever be follow'd with th'
affections of all that see me. Marry, I my self would
affect none; or if I did, it should not be heartily, but
so as I might save my self in 'em still, and take pride in
tormenting the poor wretches. Or, (now I think on't)
I would, for one year, wish my self one Woman, but
the richest, fairest, and dilicatest in a Kingdom, the

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very center of Wealth, and Beauty, wherein all lines
of Love should meet; and in that Person I would prove
all manner of suters, of all Humours, and of all Com-
plexions, and never have any two of a sort: I would
see how Love (by the power of his Object) could work
inwardly alike, in a Cholerick Man, and a Sanguine;
in a Melancholick, and a Phlegmatick; in a Fool, and
a Wise Man; in a Clown and a Courtier; in a Valiant
Man and a Coward: and how he could vary outward,
by letting this Gallant express himself in dumb gaze;
another with sighing, and rubbing his Fingers; a third,
with play-ends, and pittiful Verses; a fourth, with stab-
bing himself, and drinking Healths, or writing languish-
ing Letters in his Blood; a fifth, in colour'd Ribbands,
and good Clothes; with this Lord to smile, and that
Lord to Court, and the t'other Lord to dote, and one
Lord to hang himself. And then, I to have a Book
made of all this, which I would call the Book of Hu-
mours, and every night read a little Piece, e're I slept,
and laugh at it. Here comes Hedon.

Act IV.    Scene II.

Hedon, Anaides, Mercury, Phantaste, Philautia, Moria,
   Argurion, Cupid.

S
Ave you, sweet and clear Beauties: By the Spirit
 that moves in me, you are all most pleasingly be-
stow'd, Ladies. Only I can take it for no good omen,
to find mine Honor so dejected.
   Phi. You need not fear, Sir, I did of purpose humble
my self against your coming, to decline the pride of my
Ambition.
   Hed. Fair Honor, Ambition dares not stoop; but if it
be your sweet pleasure, I shall lose that Title I will (as
I am Hedon) apply my self to your Bounties.
   Phi. That were the next way to dis-title my self of
Honor. O, no, rather be still Ambitious, I pray you.
   Hed. I will be any thing that you please, whilst it
pleaseth you to be your self, Lady. Sweet Phantaste,
dear Moria, most beautiful Argurion ——
   Ana. Farewel, Hedon.
   Hed. Anaides, stay, whither go you?
   Ana. 'Slight, what should I do here? an' you engross
'em all for your own use, 'tis time for me to seek
out.
   Hed. I engross 'em? Away, mischief this is one of
your extravagant Jests now, because I began to salute
'em by their Names ——
   Ana. Faith, you might have spar'd us Madam Pru-
dence, the Guardian there, though you had more cove-
tously aim'd at the rest.
   Hed. 'Sheart, take 'em all, Man: what speak you
to me of aiming or covetous?
   Ana. I, say you so? nay, then, have at 'em: La-
dies, here's one hath distinguish'd you by your names
already. It shall only become me, to ask how you
do?
   Hed. Gods so, was this the design you travell'd
with?
   Pha. Who answers the brazen Head? it spoke to some
body.
   Ana. Lady Wisdom, do you interpret for these
Puppets.
   Mor. In truth, and sadness (Honors) you are in
great offence for this: go too: the Gentleman
(I'll under-take with him) is a Man of fair Li-
ving, and able to maintain a Lady in her two Carro-
ches a day, besides Pages, Munkeys and Parachitoes,
with such Attendants as she shall think meet for
her turn, and therefore there is more respect
requirable, howsoere you seem to connive. Hark
you, Sir, let me discourse a syllable with you. I am to
say          


78 Cynthia's Revels.

say to you, these Ladies are not of that close, and open
behaviour, as haply you may suspend; their carriage is
well known, to be such as it should be, both gentle and
extraordinary.
   Mer. O, here comes the other pair.

Act IV.    Scene III.

Amorphus, Asotus, Hedon, Anaides, Mercury, Cupid, Morus,
   Phantaste, Philautia, Argurion, Moria.

T
Hat was your Fathers Love, the Nymph Argurion.
 I would have you direct all your Courtship thither;
if you could but endear your self to her affection, you
were eternally en-gallanted.
   Aso. In truth, sir? pray Phœbus I prove favoursome
in her fair Eyes.
   Amo. All divine mixture, and increase of Beauty to
this bright Bevy of Ladies; and to the Male-Courti-
ers, Complement, and Courtesie.
   Hed. In the behalf of the Males, I gratifie you, Amorphus.
   Pha. And I of the Females.
   Amo. Succinctly return'd. I do vail to both your
thanks, and kiss them: but primarily to yours, most in-
genious, acute, and polite Lady.
   Phi. Gods my life, how he doe's all to bequalifie her!
ingenious, acute, and polite! as if there were not others
in place as ingenious, acute, and polite, as she.
   Hed. Yes, but you must know, Lady, he cannot speak
out of a Dictionary method.
   Pha. Sit down, sweet Amorphus: When will this Wa-
ter come, think you?
   Amo. It cannot now be long, fair Lady.
   Cup. Now observe, Mercury.
   Aso. How! most ambiguous Beauty? love you? that
I will by this Handkercher.
   Mer. 'Slid he draws his Oaths out of his Pocket.
   Arg. But, will you be constant?
   Aso. Constant Madam? I will not say for Con-
stantness, but by this Purse (which I would be loth
to swear by, unless it were embroider'd) I protest (more
than most fair Lady) you are the only, absolute, and un-
paralell'd Creature, I do adore, and admire, and respect,
and reverence in this Court, corner of the World, or
Kingdom: Methinks you are Melancholy.
   Arg. Do's your Heart speak all this?
   Aso. Say you? ——
   Mer. O, he is groping for another Oath.
   Aso. Now, by this Watch (I marle how forward the
Day is) I do unfeignedly vow my self (s'light 'tis deep-
er than I took it, past five) yours entirely addicted
Madam.
   Arg. I require no more, dearest Asotus, henceforth let
me call you mine, and in remembrance of me, vouch-
safe to wear this Chain, and this Diamond.
   Aso. O God, sweet Lady!
   Cup. There are new Oaths for him: what? doth
Hermes taste no alteration in all this?
   Mer. Yes, thou hast strook Argurion inamour'd on A-
sotus, methinks.
   Cup. Alas, no: I am no body, I, I can do nothing in
this disguise.
   Mer. But thou hast not wounded any of the rest, Cupid.
   Cup. Not yet; it is enough that I have begun so
prosperously.
   Arg. Nay, these are nothing to the Gems I will hour-
ly bestow upon thee: be but faithful and kind to me, and
I will lade thee with my richest Bounties: behold, here
my Bracelets, from mine Arms.
   Aso. Not so, good Lady, by this Diamond.
   Arg. Take 'em, wear 'em: my Jewels, chain of Pearl,
Pendants, all I have.
   Aso. Nay then, by this Pearl you make me a wanton.
   Cup. Shall not she notShall she not answer for this, to maintain
him thus in swearing?

[column break]

   Mer. O, no, there is a way to wean him from this, the
Gentleman may be reclaim'd.
   Cup. I, if you had the airing of his Apparel, Couz, I
think.
   Aso. Loving? 'twere pity I should be living else, be-
lieve me. Save you Sir. Save you sweet Lady. Save
you Monsieur Anaides. Save you dear Madam.
   Ana. Do'st thou know him that saluted thee, Hedon.
   Hed. No, some idle Fungoso, that hath got above the
Cup-board since yesterday,
   Ana. 'Slud, I never saw him till this Morning, and
he salutes me as familiarly as if we had known together
since the Deluge, or the first year of Troy-action.
   Amo. A most right-handed and auspicious Encounter.
Confine your self to your fortunes.
   Phi. For sports sake, let's have some Riddles, or Propo-
ses; hough.
   Pha. No faith, your Prophecies are best, the t'other are
stale.
   Phi. Prophecies? we cannot all sit in at them; we shall
make a confusion. No; what call'd you that we had
in the Forenoon?
   Pha. Substantives, and Adjectives. Is't not Hedon.
   Phi. I, that, who begins?
   Pha. I have thought; speak your Adjectives, sirs.
   Phi. But do not you change then.
   Pha. Not I. Who says?
   Mor. Odoriferous.
   Phi. Popular.
   Arg. Humble.
   Ana. White-liver'd.
   Hed. Barbarous.
   Amo. Pythagorical.
   Hed. Yours, Signior.
   Aso. What must I do, sir?
   Amo. Give forth your Adjective, with the rest; as,
prosperous, good, fair, sweet, well. ——
   Hed. Any thing, that hath not been spoken.
   Aso. Yes, sir, well-spoken, shall be mine.
   Pha. What? ha' you all done?
   All. I.
   Pha. Then the Substantive is Breeches. Why odori-
ferous Breeches, Guardian?
   Mor. Odoriferous, because odoriferous; that which
contains most variety of favour, and smell, we say, is
most odoriferous: now Breeches, I presume, are inci-
dent to that variety, and therefore odoriferous Breeches.
   Pha. Well, we must take it howsoever, who's next?
Philautia?
   Phi. Popular.
   Pha. Why popular Breeches?
   Phi. Marry, that is, when they are not content to be
generally noted in Court, but will press forth on com-
mon Stages, and Brokers Stalls, to the publick view of
the World.
   Pha. Good. Why humble Breeches, Argurion?
   Arg. Humble, because they use to be sate upon; be-
sides, if you tie 'em not up, their Property is to fall
down, about your Heels.
   Mer. She has worn the Breeches, it seems, which have
done so.
   Pha. But why white-liver'd?
   Ana. Why? are not their Linings white? besides when
they come in swaggering Company, and will pocket up
any thing, may they not properly be said to be white-
liver'd?
   Pha. O, yes, we must not deny it. And why barba-
rous, Hedon?
   Hed. Barbarous, because commonly, when you have
worn your Breeches sufficiently, you give them to your
Barber.
   Amo. That's good, but how Pythagorical¿
   Phi. I, Amorphus. Why Pythagorical Breeches?
   Amo. O most kindly of all, 'tis a conceit of that fortune,
Pha. How            
I am bold to hug my Brain for.


Cynthia's Revels. 79

   Pha. How is't, exquisite Amorphus?
   Amo. O, I am rapt with it, 'tis so fit, so proper,
so happy. ——
   Phi. Nay do not rack us thus?
   Amo. I never truly relisht my self before. Give me
your Ears. Breeches Pythagorical, by reason of their trans-
migration into several shapes.
   Mor. Most rare, in sweet troth. Marry, this young
Gentleman, for his well-spoken ——
   Pha. I, why well-spoken Breeches?
   Aso. Well-spoken? marry, well-spoken, because ——
whatsoever they speak is well taken; and whatsoever is
well taken, is well spoken.
   Mor. Excellent! believe me.
   Aso. Not so Ladies, neither.
   Hed. But why Breeches, now?
   Pha. Breeches, quasi bear-riches; when a Gallant
bears all his Riches in his Breeches.
   Amo. Most fortunately etymologiz'd.
   Pha. Nay, we have another sport afore this, of A
thing done, and Who did it, &c.
   Phi. I, good Phantaste let's have that: Distribute the
places.
   Pha. Why, I imagine, A thing done; Hedon thinks,
Who did it: Moria, With what it was done; Anaides, Where
it was done; Argurion, When it was done; Amorphus, For
what cause it was done; you Philautia, What followed upon
the doing of it; and this Gentleman, Who would have
done it better. What? is't conceiv'd about?
   All. Yes, yes.
   Pha. Then speak you, Sir, Who would have done it better?
   Aso. How! do's it begin at me?
   Pha. Yes, Sir: This Play is called the Crab, it goes
backward.
   Aso. May I not name my self?
   Pha. If you please, Sir, and dare abide the venture
of it.
   Aso. Then, I would have done it better, what ever
it is.
   Pha. No doubt on't, Sir: a good confidence. What
followed upon the Act, Philautia.
   Phi. A few heat drops, and a months mirth.
   Pha. For what cause, Amorphus?
   Amo. For the delight of Ladies.
   Pha. When, Argurion?
   Arg. Last Progress.
   Pha. Where, Anaides?
   Ana. Why, in a pair of pain'd Slops.
   Pha. With what, Moria?
   Mor. With a Glyster.
   Pha. Who, Hedon?
   Hed. A Traveller,
   Pha. Then, The thing done was, An Oration was made.
Rehearse. An Oration was made.
   Hed. By a Traveller.
   Mor. With a Glyster.
   Ana. In a pair of pain'd Slops.
   Arg. Last Progress.
   Amo. For the delight of Ladies.
   Phi. A few heat drops, and a Months mirth followed.
   Pha. And, this silent Gentleman would have done it
better.
   Aso. This was not so good, now.
   Phi. In good faith, these unhappy Pages would be
whipt for staying thus.
   Mer. Beshrew my hand, and my heart else.
   Amo. I do wonder at their Protraction!
   Ana. Pray Venus my Whore have not discover'd her
self to the rascally Boys, and that be the cause of their
stay.
   Aso. I must sute my self with another Page: this idle
Prosaites will never be brought to wait well.
   Mor. Sir, I have a Kinsman I could willingly wish to
your Service, if you will deign to accept of him.

[column break]

   Aso. And I shall be glad (most sweet Lady) to em-
brace him: where is he?
   Mor. I can fetch him, Sir, but I would be loth to make
you turn away your other Page.
   Aso. You shall not, most sufficient Lady, I will keep
both: pray you let's go see him.
   Arg. Whither goes my Love?
   Aso. I'le return presently, I go but to see a Page, with
this Lady.
   Ana. As sure as Fate, 'tis so; she has opened all: A
pox of all Cockatrices. Dam' me, if she have play'd loose
with me, I'le cut her Thtoat,Throat within a Hairs breadth, so
it may be heal'd again.
   Mer. What, is he jealous of his Hermaphrodite?
   Cup. O, I, this will be excellent sport.
   Phi. Phantaste! Argurion! what? you are suddenly
struck, methinks! for Loves sake let's have some Musick
till they come. Ambition, reach the Lyra, I pray you.
   Hed. Any thing to which my Honour shall direct me.
   Phi. Come, Amorphus, chear up Phantaste.
   Amo. It shall be my pride, fair Lady, to attempt all
that is in my Power. But here is an Instrument that
(alone) is able to infuse Soul into the most Melancholick,
and dull dispos'd creature upon Earth. O! let me kiss thy
fair Knees. Beauteous Ears attend it.
   Hed. Will you have the Kiss, Honour?
   Phi. I, good Ambition.

S O N G.
O,
That Joy so soon should waste!
 or so sweet a Bliss
               as a Kiss,
Might not for ever last!
So sugred, so melting, so soft, so delicious,
               The Dew that lyes on Roses,
When the Morn her self discloses,
               is not so precious.
O rather than I would it smother,
Were I to taste such another;
               It should be my wishing
               That I might die kissing.

   Hed. I made this Ditty, and the Note to it, upon a Kiss
that my Honour gave me; how like you it, Sir.
   Amo. A pretty Air; in general, I like it well: but in
particular, your long die-note did arride me most, but it
was somewhat too long. I can shew one almost of the
same Nature, but much before it, and not so long, in
a Composition of mine own. I think I have both the
Note and Ditty about me.
   Hed. Pray you, Sir, see.
   Amo. Yes, there is the Note; and all the parts, if I
mis-think not. I will read the Ditty to your Beau-
ties here; but first I am to make you familiar with the
occasion, which presents it self thus. Upon a time going
to take my leave of the Emperor, and kiss his great
Hands; there being then present, the Kings of France,
and Arragon, the Dukes of Savoy, Florence, Orleance,
Bourbon, Brunswick, the Lantgrave, Count Palatine, all
which had severally feasted me; besides, infinite more of
inferiour Persons, as Counts and others: it was my
chance (the Emperor detain'd by some exorbitant Af-
fair) to wait him the fifth part of an Hour, or much
near it. In which time (retiring my self into a Bay-
window) the beauteous Lady Annabel, Niece to the
Empress, and Sister to the King of Arragon, who having
never before eyed me, (but only heard the common re-
port of my Vertue, Learning, and Travel) fell into that
extremity of Passion, for my love, that she there imme-
diately swooned: Physicians were sent for, she had to
her Chamber, so to her Bed; where (languishing some
few Days) after many times calling upon me, with my
Name in her Lips, she expir'd. As that (I must mourn-
ingly                


80 Cynthia's Revels.

ingly say) is the only Fault of my Fortune, that, as it
hath ever been my hap to be sued to, by all Ladies, and
Beauties, where I have come; so, I never yet sojourn'd,
or rested in that place, or part of the World, where
some high-born, admirable, fair Feature died not for
my Love.
   Mer. O, the sweet power of travel! are you guiltly
of this, Cupid?
   Cup. No, Mercury, and that his Page (Cos) knows if
he were here present to be sworn.
   Phi. But, how doth this draw on the Ditty, Sir?
   Mer. O, she is too quick with him; he hath not de-
vis'd that yet.
   Amo. Marry, some hour before she departed, she be-
queath'd to me this Glove: which golden Legacy, the Em-
peror himself took care to send after me, in six Coaches,
cover'd all with black Velvet, attended by the State of
his Empire; all which he freely presented me with: and
I reciprocally (out of the same Bounty) gave to the
Lords that brought it: only reserving the Gift of the
deceas'd Lady, upon which I compos'd this Ode, and set
it to my most affected Instrument, the Lyra.

S O N G.
T
Hou more than most sweet Glove,
 Unto my more sweet Love,
Suffer me to store with Kisses
This empty Lodging that now misses.
   The pure rosie hand, that wear thee,
   Whiter thenthan the Kid that bare thee.
      Thou art soft, but that was softer;
      Cupid's self hath kist it ofter,
      Than e're he did his Mothers Doves,
      Supposing her the Queen of Loves,
            That was thy Mistress,
                  Best of Gloves.

   Mer. Blasphemy, Blasphemy, Cupid.
   Cup. I, I'll revenge it time enough, Hermes.
   Phi. Good Amorphus, let's hear it sung.
   Amo. I care not to admit that, since it pleaseth Phi-
lautia to request it.
[After she hath sung.
   Hed. Here, Sir.
   Amo. Nay, play it, I pray you, you do well, you do
well —— How like you it, Sir?
   Hed. Very well in troth.
   Amo. But very well? O, you are a meer Mammothrept
in Judgment, then. Why, do you not observe how excel-
lently the Ditty is affected in every place? that I do not
marry a Word of short quantity to a long note?
nor an ascending Syllable to a descending Tone? Be-
sides, upon the word (best) there, you see how I do en-
ter with an odd minnum, and drive it through the brief,
which no intelligent Musician (I know) but will affirm
to be very rare, extraordinary, and pleasing.
   Mer. And yet not fit to lament the death of a Lady,
for all this.
   Cup. Tut, here be they will swallow any thing.
   Pha. Pray you, let me have a Copy of it Amorphus.
   Phi. And me too, in troth, I like it exceedingly.
   Amo. I have denied it to Princes, nevertheless to you
(the true female Twins of perfection) I am won to de-
part with all.
   Hed. I hope, I shall have my Honours Copy.
   Pha. You are Ambitious in that, Hedon.
   Amo. How now, Anaides! what is it hath conjur'd up
this distemperature in the circle of your Face?
[Who is return'd from seeking his Page.

   Ana. Why, what have you to do? A Pox upo' your
filthy travelling Face, hold your Tongue.
   Hed. Nay, do'st hear, Mischief?
   Ana. Away, Musk-cat.
   Amo. I say to thee, thou art rude, debaucht, impudent,
course, impolisht, a frapler, and base.

[column break]

   Hed. Heart of my Father, what a strange alteration
has half a years haunting of Ordinaries wrought in this
Fellow! that came with a tuff-taffata Jerkin to Town but
the other day, and a pair of pennyless Hose, and now he is
turn'd Hercules, he wants but a Club.
   Ana. Sir, you with the Pencil on your Chin; I will
garter my Hose with your Guts, and that shall be all.
   Mer. 'Slid, what rare Fire-works be here? flash, flash.
   Pha. What's the matter Hedon? can you tell?
   Hed. Nothing, but that he lacks Crowns, and thinks
wee'll lend him some to be Friends.
   Aso. Come sweet Lady, in good truth I'll have it, you
shall not deny me. Morus, perswade your Aunt I may
have her Picture, by any means.
[Asotus returns with Moria and Morus.

   Mo. Yea, Sir: good Aunt now, let him have it, he
will use me the better; if you love me, do good Aunt.
   Mor. Well, tell him he shall have it.
   Mo. Master, you shall have it, she says.
   Aso. Shall I? thank her, good Page.
   Cup. What, has he entertain'd the Fool?
   Mer. I, hee'll wait close, you shall see, though the
Begger hang off a while.
   Mo. Aunt, my Master thanks you.
   Mor. Call him hither.
   Mo. Yes, Master.
   Mor. Yes, in verity, and gave me this Purse, and he
has promis'd me a most fine Dog; which he will have
drawn with my Picture, he saies: and desires most ve-
hemently to be known to your Ladiships.
   Pha. Call him hither, 'tis good groping such a Gull.
   Mo. Master Asotus, Master Asotus.
   Aso. For loves sake, let me go: you see, I am call'd
to the Ladies.
   Arg. Wilt thou forsake me then?
   Aso. God so, what would you have me do?
   Mor. Come hither, Master Asotus. I do ensure your
Ladyships, he is a Gentleman of a very worthy desert:
and of a most bountiful nature. You must shew and in-
sinuate your self responsible, and equivalent now to my
Commendment. Good Honors grace him.
   Aso. I protest (more than most fair Ladies) I do wish
all variety of divine Pleasures, choice Sport, sweet Mu-
sick, rich Fare, brave attire, soft Beds, and silken
Thoughts, attend these fair Beauties. Will it please your
Ladyship to wear this Chain of Pearl, and this Diamond,
for my sake?
   Arg. O.
   Aso. And you, Madam, this Jewel, and Pendants.
   Arg. O.
   Pha. We know not how to deserve these Bounties, out
of so slight merit, Asotus.
   Phi. No, in faith, but there's my Glove for a favour.
   Pha. And soon after the Revels, I will bestow a Garter
on you.
   Aso. O Lord, Ladies! it is more grace than ever I
could have hop'd, but that it pleaseth your Ladyships to
extend. I protest, it is enough, that you but take know-
ledge of my -- if your Ladyships want embroider'd Gowns,
Tyres of any Fashion, Rebatues, Jewels, or Carkanets,
any thing whatsoever, if you vouchsafe to accept. —
   Cup. And for it they will help you to Shooe-ties, and
Devices.
   Aso. I cannot utter my self (dear Beauties) but, you
can conceive ——
   Arg. O.
   Pha. Sir, we will acknowledge your Service, doubt
not: henceforth, you shall be no more Asotus to us, but
our Gold-finch, and we your Cages.
   Aso. O Venus, Madams! how shall I deserve this? if I
were but made acquainted with Hedon, now, I'll try:
pray you away.
   Mer. How he prays Money to go away from
him!
Aso. Amor-    

Cynthia's Revels. 81

   Aso. Amorphus, a word with you: here's a Watch I
would bestow upon you, pray you make me known to
that Gallant.
   Amo. That I will, Sir. Monsieur Hedon, I must en-
treat you to exchange knowledge with this Gentle-
man.
   Hed. 'Tis a thing (next to the Water we expect) I
thirst after, Sir. Good Monsieur Asotus.
   Aso. Good Monsieur Hedon, I would be glad to be
lov'd of Men of your Rank and Spirit, I protest. Please
you to accept this pair of Bracelets, sir: they are not
worth the bestowing —
   Mer. O, Hercules, how the Gentleman purchases! this
must needs bring Argurion to a Consumption.
   Hed. Sir, I shall never stand in the merit of such
Bounty, I fear.
   Aso. O Venus, Sir; your acquaintance shall be suffici-
ent. And if at any time you need my Bill, or my
Bond ——
[Argurion swoons.
   Arg. O, O.
   Amo. Help the Lady there.
   Mor. Gods dear, Argurion! Madam, how do you?
   Ara. Sick.
   Pha. Have her forth, and give her Air.
   Aso. I come again strait Ladies.
   Mer. Well, I doubt, all the Physick he has will scarce
recover her: she's too far spent.

Act IV.    Scene IV.

Philautia, Gelaia, Anaides, Cos, Prosaites, Phantaste, Mo-
   ria, Amorphus, Hedon.

O
 Here's the Water come: fetch Glasses, Page.
   Gel. Heart of my Body, here's a coil indeed, with
your jealous Humours: Nothing but Whore and Bitch,
and all the villainous swaggering Names you can think
on? 'Slid, take your Bottle, and put it in your Guts for
me, I'll see you poxt ere I follow you any longer.
   Ana. Nay, good Punk, sweet Rascal? dam' me if I
am jealous now.
   Gel. That's true indeed; pray let's go.
   Mor. What's the matter, there?
   Gel. 'Slight he has me upon Interrogatories, (nay, my
Mother shall know how you use me) where I have been?
and, why I should stay so long? and, how is't possible?
and withal calls me at his pleasure, I know not how ma-
ny Cockatrices, and things.
   Mor. In truth and sadness, these are no good Epitaphs,
Anaides, to bestow upon any Centlewoman;Gentlewoman and I'll (en-
sure you) if I had known you would have dealt thus
with my Daughter, she should never have fancied you
so deeply as she has done. Go too.
   Ana. Why, do you hear, Mother Moria. Heart!
   Mor. Nay, I pray you, Sir, do not swear.
   Ana. Swear? why? I have sworn afore now, I
hope. Both you and your Daughter mistake me. I have
not honour'd Arete, that is held the worthiest Lady in
Court (next to Cynthia) with half that observance and
respect, as I have done her in private, howsoever out-
wardly I have carried my self careless, and negligent.
Come, you are a foolish Punk, and know not when you
are well employ'd. Kiss me, come on; do it I say.
   Mor. Nay, indeed, I must confess, she is apt to mis-
prision. But I must have you leave it Minion.
   Amo. How now, Asotus? how do's the Lady.
   Aso. Faith, ill. I have left my Page with her, at her
Lodging.
   Hed. O here's the rarest Water that ever was tasted:
fill him some.
   Pro. What! has my Master a new Page?
   Mer. Yes, a Kinsman, of the Lady Moria's: you must
wait better now, or you are cashier'd Prosaites.
   Ana. Come Gallants you must pardon my foolish hu-

[column break]

mour: when I am angry, that any thing crosses me, I
grow impatient strait. Here, I drink to you.
   Phi. O, that we had five or six Bottles more of this
Liquor.
   Pha. Now I commend your Judgment, Amorphus;
who's that knocks? Look, Page.
   Mor. O, most delicious, a little of this would make
Argurion well.
   Pha. O, no, give her no cold drink, by any means.
   Ana. This Water is the spirit of Wine, I'll be hang'd else.
   Cos. Here's the Lady Arete, Madam.

Act IV.    Scene V.

Arete, Moria, Phantaste, Philautia, Anaides, Gelaia, Cos,
   Prosaites, Amorphus, Asotus, Hedon, Mercury, Cupid.

W
Hat at your Bever, Gallants?
   Mor. Will't please your Ladyship to drink? 'tis
of the new Fountain Water.
   Are. Not I, Moria, I thank you. Gallants, you are
for this night free to your peculiar Delights; Cynthia
will have no Sports: when she is pleas'd to come forth,
you shall have knowledge. In the thesecond 'the' an error mean time, I
could wish you did provide for solemn Revels, and some
unlookt for device of wit, to entertain her, against she
should vouchsafe to grace your Pastimes with her pre-
sence.
   Amo. What say you to a Mask?
   Hed. Nothing better if the Project were new, and rare.
   Are. Why, I'll send for Crites, and have his advice;
be you ready in your endeavours: He shall discharge you
of the Inventive part.
   Pha. But, will not your Ladyship stay?
   Are. Not now, Phantaste.
   Phi. Let her go, I pray you, good Lady Sobriety, I
am glad we are rid of her.
   Pha. What a set Face the Gentlewoman has, as she
were still going to a sacrifice?
   Phi. O, she is the extraction of a dozen Puritans,
for a look.
   Mor. Of all Nymphs in'in' should be omitted i' the court, I cannot away with
her; 'tis the coursest thing ——
   Phi. I wonder how Cynthia can affect her so above the
rest! Here be they are every way as fair as she, and a
thought fairer, I trow.
   Pha. I, and as ingenious and conceited as she.
   Mor. I, and as politick as she, for all she sets such a
fore-head on't.
   Phi. Would I were dead, if I would change to be
Cynthia.
   Pha. Or I.
   Mor. Or I.
   Amo. And there's her Minion Crites! why his advice
more than Amorphus? have not I invention afore him?
Learning, to better that invention above him? and in-
fanted with pleasant Travel ——
   Ana. Death, what talk you of his Learning? he un-
derstands no more than a School-boy; I have put him
down my self a thousand times (by this Air) and yet
I never talkt with him but twice, in my life: you ne-
ver saw his like. I could never get him to argue with
me, but once, and then, because I could not construe
an Author I quoted at first sight, he went away, and
laught at me. By Hercules, I scorn him, as I do the sod-
den Nymph, that was here e'en now, his Mistress Arete:
And I love my self for nothing else.
   Hed. I wonder the fellow does not hang himself, be-
ing thus scorn'd, and contemn'd of us that are held the
most accomplisht Society of Gallants!
   Mer. By your selves, none else.
   Hed. I protest, if I had no Musick in me, no Courtship,
that I were not a Reveller and could dance, or had not
those excellent Qualities that give a Man Life and Per-
M                              fection,            


82 Cynthia's Revels.

fection, but a meer poor Scholar as he is, I think I
should make some desperate way with my self, whereas
now (would I might never breath more) if I do know
that Creature in this Kingdom, with whom I would
change.
   Cup. This is excellent well, I must alter all this soon.
   Mer. Look you do, Cupid. The Bottles have wrought,
it seems.
   Aso. O, I am sorry the Revels are crost. I should ha'
tickled it soon. I did never appear till then. 'Slid, I am
the neatliest-made Gallant i' the Company, and have
the best presence; and my dancing---well, I know what
our Usher said to me, last time I was at the School:
would I might have led Philautia in the measures, an' it
had been the Gods will. I am most worthy, I am sure.
   Morus. Master, I can tell you news, the Lady kist me
yonder, and plaid with me, and says she lov'd you once,
as well as she do's me, but that you cast her off.
   Aso. Peace, my most esteemed Page.
   Morus. Yes.
   Aso. What luck is this, that our Revels are dasht?
Now was I beginning to glister, i' the very high-way of
Preferment. And Cynthia had but seen me dance a strain,
or do but one trick, I had been kept in Court, I should
never have needed to look towards my Friends agen.
   Amo. Contain you self, You were a fortunate young
Man, if you knew your own good: which I have now
projected, and will presently multiply upon you. Beau-
ties, and Valours, your vouchsaf'd applause to a motion.
The humorous Cynthia hath, for this night, with-drawn
the light of your de-light ——
   Pha. 'Tis true Amorphus, what may we do to redeem
it?
   Amo. Redeem that we cannot, but to create a new
Flame, is in our Power. Here is a Gentleman, my Scho-
lar, whom (for some private Reasons me specially mo-
ving) I am covetous to gratifie with title of Master, in
the noble, and subtile Science of Courtship: For which
Grace, he shall this night in Court, and in the long
Gallery, hold his publick Act, by open challenge, to all
Masters of the Mystery whatsoever, to play at the four
choice and principal Weapons thereof, viz. the bare Ac-
cost, the better Regard, the solemn Address, and the per-
fect Close. What say you?
   All. Excellent, excellent, Amorphus,
   Amo. Well, let us then take our time by the fore-head:
I will instantly have Bills drawn, and advanc'd in every
Angle of the Court. Sir, betray not your too much joy.
Anaides, we must mix this Gentleman with you in ac-
quaintance, Monsieur Asotus.
   Ana. I am easily entreated to grace any of your Friends,
Amorphus.
   Aso. Sir, and his Friends shall likewise grace you, Sir.
Nay, I begin to know my self, now.
   Amo. O, you must continue your Bounties.
   Aso. Must I? why, I'll give him this Ruby on my
Finger. Do you hear, Sir? I do heartily wish your ac-
quaintance, and I partly know my self worthy of it; please
you, Sir, to accept this poor Ruby, in a Ring, Sir. The
Poesie is of my own device, Let this blush for me, Sir.
   Ana. So it must be for me, too. For I am not asham'd
to take it.
   Morus. Sweet man! by my troth, Master, I love you,
will you love me too? for my Aunts sake? I'll wait
well, you shall see. I'll still be here. Would I might
never stir, but you are a fine Man in these Clothes,
Master, shall I have 'em, when you have done with them.
   Aso. As for that, Morus, thou shalt see more hereafter:
in the mean time, by this Air, or by this Feather, I'll
do as much for thee, as any Gallant shall do for his
Page, whatsoever, in this Court, corner of the World,
or Kingdom.
   Mer. I wonder this Gentleman should affect to keep
a Fool! methinks, he makes sport enough with himself.

[column break]

   Cup. Well, Prosaites, 'twere good you did wait closer.
   Pro. I, I'll look to it; 'tis time.
   Cos. The Revels would have been most sumptuous to
night, if they had gone forward.
   Mer. They must needs, when all the choisest singula-
rities of the Court were up in Pantofles; ne're a one of
them, but was able to make a whole shew of it self.
[within.
   Aso. Sirrah, a torch, a torch.
   Pro. O, what a call is there! I will have a Canzonet
made, with nothing in it but Sirrah; and the burthen
shall be, I come.
   Mer. How now, Cupid, how do you like this change?
   Cup. Faith, the thred of my device is crackt, I may
go sleep till the revelling Musick awake me.
   Mer. And then too, Cupid, without you had prevent-
ed the Fountain. Alas, poor God, that remembers not
Self-Love, to be proof against the violence of his Quiver!
Well, I have a Plot upon these Prizers, for which I must
presently find out Crites, and with his assistance, pursue
it to a high strain of Laughter, or Mercury hath lost of
his Mettal.


Act V.    Scene I.

Mercury, Crites.

I
T is resolv'd on, Crites, you must do it.
   Cri. The Grace divinest Mercury hath done me,
In this vouchsafed discovery of himself,
Binds my observance in the utmost terme
Of satisfaction, to his godly Will:
Though I profess (without the affectation
Of an enforc'd, and form'd austerity)
I could be willing to enjoy no place
With so unequal Natures.   Mer. We believe it.
But for our sake, and to inflict just pains
On their prodigious Follies, aid us now:
No man is, presently, made bad, with ill.
And good men, like the Sea, should still maintain
Their noble taste, in midst of all fresh humours,
That flow about them, to corrupt their Streams,
Bearing no season, much less salt of goodness.
It is our purpose, Crites, to correct,
And punish, with our laughter, this nights sport.
Which our Court-Dors so heartily intend:
And by that worthy scorn, to make them know
How far beneath the dignity of Man
Their serious, and most practis'd Actions are.
   Cri. I, but though Mercury can warrant out
His Undertakings, and make all things good,
Out of the Powers of his Divinity,
Th' offence will be return'd with weight on me,
That am a Creature so despis'd, and poor;
When the whole Court shall take it self abus'd
By our Ironical Confederacy.
   Mer. You are deceiv'd. The better Race in Court
Will apprehend it, as a grateful right
Done to their separate merit: and approve
The fit rebuke of so ridiculous Heads,
Who with their apish Customs, and forc'd Garbs,
Would bring the name of Courtier in contempt,
Did it not live unblemisht in some few,
Whom equal Jove hath lov'd, and Phœbus form'd
Of better Metal, and in better mould.
   Cri. Well, since my leader on is Mercury,
I shall not fear to follow. If I fall,
My proper Vertue shall be my relief,
That follow'd such a cause, and such a chief.

Act V.    

Cynthia's Revels. 83

Act V.    Scene II.

Asotus, Amorphus.

N
O more, if you love me, good Master, you are in-
 compatible to live withal: Send me for the La-
dies.
   Amo. Nay, but intend me.
   Aso. Fear me not, I warrant you, Sir.
   Amo. Render not your self a refractary, on the sud-
den. I can allow well, you should repute highly, hear-
tily (and to the most) of your own Endowments; it
gives you forth to the World the more assur'd: but with
reservation of an Eye, to be always turn'd dutifully
back upon your Teacher.
   Aso. Nay, good Sir, leave it to me. Trust me with
trussing all the Points of this action, I pray. 'Slid, I
hope we shall find Wit to perform the Science, as well
as another.
   Amo. I confess you to be of an aped and docile Hu-
mour. Yet there are certain puntilioes, or (as I may
more nakedly insinuate them) certain intrinsecate strokes,
and wards, to which your activity is not yet amounted.
As your gentile dor in Colours. For supposition, your
Mistress appears here in prize, Ribbanded with green and
yellow; now it is the part of every obsequious Servant,
to be sure to have daily about him Copy, and variety of
Colours, to be presently answerable to any hourly or
half hourly change in his Mistresses Revolution. ——
   Aso. (I know it, Sir.
   Amo. Give leave, I pray you) which if your Antago-
nist, or Player-against-you, shall ignorantly be without,
and your self can produce; you give him the dor.
   Aso. I, I, Sir.
   Amo. Or, if you can possess your opposite, that the
green your Mistress wears, is her rejoycing or exultation
in his Service; the yellow, suspicion of his truth, (from
her height of affection:) and that he (greenly credu-
lous) shall withdraw thus, in private, and from the a-
bundance of his Pocket (to displace her jealous Con-
ceit) steal into his Hat the Colour, whose blueness doth
express trueness, (she being nor so, nor so affected) you
give him the dor.
   Aso. Do not I know it, Sir?
   Amo. Nay, good — swell not above your under-
standing. There is yet a third dor in Colours.
   Aso. I know it too, I know it.
   Amo. Do you know it too? what is it? Make good
your knowledg.
   Aso. Why it is —— no matter for that.
   Amo. Do it, on pœnepain of the dor.
   Aso. Why; what is't, say you?
   Amo. Lo, you have given your self the dor. But I
will remonstrate to you the third dor; which is not, as
the two former dors, indicative, but deliberative: As
how? As thus. Your Rivalis, with a dutiful and serious
care, lying in his Bed, meditating how to observe his
Mistress, dispatcheth his Lacquey to the Chamber,
early, to know what her Colours are for the day, with
purpose to apply his wear that day accordingly: You
lay wait before, Preoccupy the Chamber-maid, Cor-
rupt her, to return false Colours; He follows the falla-
cy; comes out accoutred to his believ'd Instructions;
your Mistress smiles; and you give him the dor.
   Aso. Why, so I told you, Sir, I knew it.
   Amo. Told me? It is a strange outrecuidance! your
humour too much redoundeth.
   Aso. Why, Sir, what, do you think you know more?
   Amo. I know that a Cook may as soon and properly
be said to smell well, as you to be wise. I know these
are most clear and clean strokes. But then, you have
your Passages and imbroccata's in Courtship; as the bitter
Bob in Wit; the Reverse in Face or Wry-mouth; and

[column break]

these more subtil and secure Offenders. I will example
unto you; your Opponent makes entry, as you are
ingag'd with your Mistress. You seeing him, close in
her Ear with this whisper (here comes your Babion, dis-
grace him) and withal, stepping off, fall on his Bosom,
and turning to her, politickly, aloud say, Lady, regard
this Noble Gentleman, a Man rarely parted, second to
none in this Court; and then, stooping over his Shoul-
der, your Hand on his Brest, your Mouth on his Back-
side, you give him the Reverse stroke, with this Sanna,
or Storks-bill, which makes up your Wits Bob most
bitter.
   Aso. Nay, for Heavens sake, teach me no more. I
know all as well — 'Slid, if I did not, why was I no-
minated? why did you chuse me? why did the Ladies
prick out me? I am sure there were other Gallants.
But me of all the rest? by that light, and as I am a
Courtier, would I might never stir, but 'tis strange.
Would to the Lord the Ladies would come once.

Act V.    Scene III.

Morphides, Amorphus, Asotus, Hedon, Anaides, the Throng,
   Ladies, Citizens, Wife, Pages, Taylor, Mercer, Perfumer,
   Jeweller, &c.

S
Ignior, the Gallants and Ladies are at hand. Are
 you ready, Sir?
   Amo. Instantly. Go, accomplish your Attire: Cousin
Morphides, assist me, to make good the Door with your
officious Tyranny.
   Cit. By your leave my Masters there, pray you let's
come by.
   Pag. You by? why should you come by more than
we?
   Wif. Why, Sir? Because he is my Brother that plays
the Prizes.
   Mor. Your Brother?
   Cit. I, her Brother, Sir, and we must come in.
   Tay. Why, what are you?
   Cit. I am her Husband, Sir.
   Tay. Then thrust forward your Head.
   Amo. What Tumult is there?
   Mor. Who's there? bear back there. Stand from the
Door.
   Amo. Enter none but the Ladies, and their Hang-
bies; welcom Beauties and your kind Shadows.
   Hed. This Country Lady, my Friend, good Signior
Amorphus.
   Ana. And my Cockatrice here.
   Amo. She is welcom.
   Mor. Knock those same Pages there; and Goodman
Cockscom the Citizen, who would you speak withal?
   Amo. With whom? your Brother?
   Mor. Who is your Brother?
   Amo. Master Asotus? Is he your Brother? He is ta-
ken up with great Persons. He is not to know you to
night.
   Aso. O Jove, Master! an' there come e're a Citizen
Gentlewoman in my name, let her have entrance, I
pray you. It is my Sister.
   Wif. Brother.
   Cit. Brother, Master Asotus.
   Aso. Who's there?
   Wif. 'Tis I, Brother.
   Aso. Gods me! There she is, good Master, intrude
her.
   Mor. Make place. Bear back there.
   Amo. Knock that simple Fellow there.
   Wif. Nay, good Sir; It is my Husband.
   Mor. The simpler Fellow he. Away, back with your
Head, Sir.
   Aso. Brother, you must pardon your Non-entry: Hus-
bands are not allow'd here in truth. I'll come home
M 2                                  soon            


84 Cynthia's Revels.

soon with my Sister, pray you meet us with a Lanthorn,
Brother. Be merry, Sister: I shall make you laugh anon.
   Pha. Your Prizer is not ready Amorphus.
   Amo. Apprehend your places, he shall be soon; and
at all points.
   Ana. Is there any body come to answer him? Shall
we have any sport?
   Amo. Sport of importance; howsoever, give me the
Gloves.
   Hed. Gloves! why Gloves, Signior?
[He distributes Gloves.            
   Phi. What's the Ceremony?
   Amo. Beside their receiv'd fitness, at all Prizes, they
are here properly accomodate to the Nuptials of my
Schollars 'haviour to the Lady Courtship. Please you ap-
parel your hands. Madam Phantaste, Madam Philautia,
Guardian, Signior Heden,Hedon Signior Anaides, Gentlemen all,
Ladies.
   All. Thanks, good Amorphus.
   Amo. I will now call forth my Provost, and present
him.
   Ana. Heart! why should not we be Masters, as well
as he?
   Hed. That's true, and play our Masters prizes, as well
as the t'other?
   Mor. In sadness, for using your Court-weapons, me-
thinks you may.
   Pha. Nay, but why should not we Ladies play our
Prizes, I pray? I see no reason, but we should take 'em
down at their own Weapons.
   Phi. Troth, and so we may, if we handle 'em well.
   Wif. I indeed, forsooth, Madam, if 'twere i' the Ci-
ty, we would think foul scorn, but we would, forsooth.
   Pha. Pray you, what should we call your name?
   Wif. My name is Downfal.
   Hed. Good Mistress Downfal! I am sorry your Hus-
band could not get in.
   Wif. 'Tis no matter for him, Sir.
   Ana. No, no, she has the more liberty for her self.
[A flourish.            
   Pha. Peace, peace: They come.
   Amo. So, Keep up your Ruff: the Tincture of your
Neck is not all so pure, but it will ask it. Maintain your
sprig upright; your Cloke on your half-shoulder falling;
So: I will read your Bill, advance it, and present
you.                     Silence.

The C H A L L E N G E.

B
E it known to all that profess Courtship, by these Pre-
 sents (from the white sattin Reveller, to the Cloth of
Tissue and Bodkin,) that we, Ulysses-Politropus-Amorphus,
Master of the noble and subtil Science of Courtship, do give
leave and license to our Provost, Acolastus-Polypragmon-
Asotus, to play his Masters Prize, against all Masters what-
soever in this subtile Mystery, at these four, the choice and
most cunning Weapons of Court complement, viz. the bare
Accost; the better Reguard; the solemn Address; and
the perfect Close. These are therefore to give notice to all
comers, that he, the said Acolastus-Polypragmon-Asotus,
is here present (by the help of his Mercer, Taylor, Millener,
Sempster, and so forth) at his designed hour, in this fair
Gallery, the present day of this present month, to perform
and do his uttermost for the atchievement and bearing away of
the Prizes, which are these: viz. For the bare Accost, two
Wall-eyes, in a face forced: For the better Reguard, a
Face fovourablyfavourably simpring, with a Fan waving: For the
solemn Address, two Lips wagging, and never a wise word:
For the perfect Close, a Wring by the hand, with a Ban-
quet in a corner. And Phœbus save Cynthia.

   Appeareth no Man yet, to answer the Prizer? No
voyce? Musick, give them their Summons.
[Musick sounds.            

   Pha. The solemnity of this is excellent.
   Amo. Silence. Well, I perceive your name is their Ter-
ror; and keepeth them back.

[column break]

   Aso. I faith, Master, let's go: no body comes.
Victus, victa, victum; Victi, victæ, victi —— Let's be
retrograde.
   Amo. Stay. That were dispunct to the Ladies. Ra-
ther, our self shall be your Encounter. Take your
state up to the Wall: And, Lady, may we implore you
to stand forth, as first term or bound to our Courtship.
   Hed. 'Fore Heaven, 'twill shew rarely.
[A Charge.            
   Amo. Sound a charge.
   Ana. A pox on't. Your vulgar will count this fabu-
lous and impudent, now: by that Candle they'll ne'er
conceit it.
   Pha. Excellent well! admirable!
   Phi. Peace.
They act their
Accost severally
to the Lady that
stands forth.            
   Hed. Most fashionably, believe it.
   Phi. O, he is a well-spoken Gentleman.
   Pha. Now the other.
   Phi. Very good.
   Hed. For a Schollar, Honor.
   Ana. O, 'tis too dutch. He reels too much.
[A flourish.            
   Hed. This Weapon is done.
   Amo. No, we have our two bouts, at every Weapon,
expect.

Act V.    Scene IV.

[To them.            
                              Crites, Mercury.

W
Here be these Gallants, and their brave Prizer
 here?
   Mor. Who's there? bear back: Keep the Door.
   Amo. What are you, Sir?
   Cri. By your License, Grand-master. Come forward,
Sir.
   Ana. Heart! who let in that Rag there, amongst us?
put him out, an impecunious Creature.
   Hed. Out with him.
   Mor. Come, Sir.
   Amo. You must be retrograde.
   Cri. Soft, Sir, I am Truchman, and do flourish before
this Monsieur, or French-behav'd Gentleman, here; who
is drawn hither by report of your Chartels, advanced in
Court, to prove his fortune with your Prizer, so he may
have fair play shewn him, and the liberty to choose his
stickler.
   Amo. Is he a Master?
   Cri. That, Sir, he has to shew here; and, confirmed
under the hands of the most skilful and cunning Com-
plementaries alive: please you read, Sir.
   Amo. What shall we do?
   Ana. Death, disgrace this fellow i' the black-stuff,
whatever you do.
   Amo. Why, but he comes with the stranger.
   Hed. That's no matter. He is our own Countryman.
   Ana. I, and he is a Schollar besides. You may dis-
grace him here with Authority.
   Amo. Well, see these first.
   Aso. Now shall I be observ'd by yon'd Schollar, till I
sweat again; I would to Jove it were over.
   Cri. Sir, this is the wight of worth, that dares you
to the Encounter. A Gentleman of so pleasing and ri-
diculous a Carriage; as, even standing, carries Meat
in the Mouth, you see; and I assure you, although
no bred courtling, yet a most particular Man, of goodly
havings, well fashion'd 'haviour, and of as hard'ned
and excellent a Bark, as the most naturally qualified a-
mongst them, inform'd, reform'd, and transform'd,
from his original Citycism; by this Elixir, or meet
Magazine of Man. And, for your Spectators, you be-
hold them what they are: The most choice particulars
in Court: This tells Tales well; This provides Coaches;
This repeats Jests; This presents Gifts; This holds up
the Arras; This takes down from Horse; This protests
by this Light; This swears by that Candle; This De-
lighteth;                        


Cynthia's Revels. 85

lighteth; This Adoreth. Yet all but three Men. Then
for your Ladies, the most proud witty Creatures, all
things apprehending, nothing understanding, perpetu-
ally laughing, curious maintainers of Fools, Mercers,
and Minstrels, costly to be kept, miserably keeping, all
disdaining, but their Painter, and Apothecary, 'twixt
whom and them there is this reciprock Commerce, their
Beauties maintain their Painters, and their Painters their
Beauties.
   Mer. Sir, you have plaid the Painter your self, and
limb'd them to the Life. I desire to deserve before 'em.
   Amo. This is Authentick. We must resolve to enter-
tain the Monsieur, howsoever we neglect him.
[Having read the Certificate.

   Hed. Come, let's all go together, and salute him.
   Ana. Content, and not look o' the other.
   Amo. Well devis'd: and a most punishing disgrace.
   Hed. On.
   Amo. Monsieur. We must not so much betray our
selves to discourtship, as to suffer you to be longer unsa-
luted: Please you to use the State, ordain'd for the Op-
ponent; in which nature, without Envy we receive you.
   Hed. And embrace you.
   Ana. And commend us to you, Sir.
   Phi. Believe it, he is a Man of excellent silence.
   Pha. He keeps all his Wit for Action.
   Ana. This hath discountenanc'd our scholaris, most
richly.
   Hed. Out of all emphasis. The Monsieur sees we regard
him not.
   Amo. Hold on: make it known how bitter a thing it
is, not to be lookt on in Court.
   Hed. 'Slud, will he call him to him yet? do's not
Monsieur perceive our disgrace?
   Ana. Heart! he is a Fool, I see. We have done our
selves wrong to grace him.
   Hed. 'Slight, what an Ass was I to embrace him?
   Cri. Illustrous and fearful Judges ——
   Hed. Turn away, turn away.
   Cri. It is the sute of the strange Opponent (to whom
you ought not to turn your Tails, and whose Noses I
must follow) that he may have the Justice, before he
encounter his respected Adversary, to see some light
stroke of his Play, commenc'd with some other.
   Hed. Answer not him, but the stranger, we will not
believe him.
   Amo. I will demand him my self.
   Cri. O dreadful disgrace, if a Man were so foolish
to feel it!
   Amo. Is it your suit, Monsieur, to see some prælude of
my Schollar? Now, sure the Monsieur wants Language!
   Hed. And take upon him to be one of the accom-
plish't? 'Slight, that's a good Jest: would we could
take him with that nullity. Non sapette voi parlar' Ita-
gliano?
   Ana. 'Sfoot, the Carp has no Tongue.
   Cri. Signior, in Courtship, you are to bid your abet-
tors forbear, and satisfie the Monsieurs request.
   Amo. Well, I will strike him more silent, with admi-
ration, and terrifie his daring hither. He shall behold
my own play, with my Schollar. Lady, with the touch
of your white Hand, let me re-enstate you. Provost,
begin to me, at the bare Accost. Now, for the honour
[A Charge.
of my discipline.
   Hed. Signior Amorphus, reflect, reflect: what means
he by that mouthed wave?
   Cri. He is in some distaste of your Fellow-disciple.
   Mer. Signior, your Schollar might have plaid well still,
if he could have kept his seat longer: I have enough of
him, now. He is a meer piece of Glass, I see through
him, by this time.
   Amo. You come not to give us the scorn, Mon-
sieur?
   Mer. Nor to be frighted with a Face. Signior! I have

[column break]

seen the Lyons. You must pardon me. I shall be loth
to hazard a Reputation with one that has not a Reptati-
onReputation to lose.
   Amo. How!
   Cri. Meaning you Pupil, Sir.
   Ana. This is that black Devil there.
   Amo. You do offer a strange affront, Monsieur.
   Cri. Sir, he shall yield you all the honour of a com-
petent Adversary, if you please to undertake him —
   Mer. I am prest for the Encounter.
   Amo. Me? challenge me?
   Aso. What! my Master, Sir? 'Slight, Monsieur, med-
dle with me, do you hear? but do not meddle with my
Master.
   Mer. Peace, good squib, go out.
   Cri. And stink, he bids you.
   Aso. Master?
   Amo. Silence, I do accept him. Sit you down, and
observe. Me? He never profest a thing at more Char-
ges. Prepare your self, Sir. Challenge me? I will pro-
secute what disgrace my hatred can dictate to me.
   Cri. How tender a Travellers spleen is? comparison,
to Men, that deserve least, is ever most offensive.
   Amo. You are instructed in our Chartell, and know
our Weapons?
   Mer. I appear not without their notice, Sir.
   Aso. But must I lose the Prizes, Master?
   Amo. I will win them for you, be patient. Lady,
vouchsafe the Tenure of this Ensign. Who shall be
your stickler?
   Mer. Behold him.
   Amo. I would not wish you a weaker. Sound Mu-
[A Charge.
sicks. I provoke you, at the bare Accost.
   Pha. Excellent comely!
   Cri. And worthily studied. This is th' exalted Fore-
top.
   Hed. O, his Leg was too much produc'd.
   Ana. And his Hat was carried skirvily.
   Phi. Peace; Let's see the Monsieur's Accost: Rare!
   Pha. Sprightly, and short.
   Ana. True, it is the French courteau: He lacks but to
have his Nose slit.
   Hed. He does hop. He does bound too much.
   Amo. The second bout, to conclude this Weapon.
[A flourish.

[A Charge.
   Pha. Good, Believe it!
   Phi. An excellent offer!
   Cri. This is call'd the solemn band-string.
   Hed. Foh, that Cringe was not put home.
   Ana. He makes a Face like a stab'd Lucrece.
   Aso. Well, he would needs take it upon him, but
would I had done it for all this. He makes me sit still
here, like a Babioun as I am.
   Cri. Making villanous Faces.
   Phi. See, the French prepares it richly.
   Cri. I, this is ycleped the serious trifle.
   Ana. 'Slud, 'tis the horse-start out o' the brown study.
   Cri. Rather the Bird-ey'd stroke, Sir. Your obser-
vance is too blunt, Sir.
   Amo. Judges, award the Prize. Take breath, Sir.
[A flourish.
This bout hath been laborious.
   Aso. And yet your Critick, or your Besso'gno, will
think these things foppery, and easie, now.
   Cri. Or rather meer Lunacy. For would any reaso-
nable Creature make these his serious Studies and Per-
fections? Much less, only live to these ends? to be the
false Pleasure of a few, the true Love of none, and the
just laughter of all?
   Hed. We must prefer the Monsieur, we Courtiers must
be partial.
   Ana. Speak, Guardian. Name the Prize, at the bare
Accost.
   Mor. A pair of Wall-eyes in a face forced.
   Ana. Give the Monsieur. Amorphus hath lost his Eyes.
Amo.


86 Cynthia's Revels.

   Amo. I! is the Palate of your Judgment down? Gen-
tiles, I do appeal.
   Aso. Yes, Master, to me. The Judges be Fools.
   Ana. How now, Sir? Tye up your Tongue, Mun-
gril. He cannot appeal.
   Aso. Say you, Sir?
   Ana. Sit you still, Sir.
   Aso. Why, so I do. Do not I, I pray you?
   Mer. Remercy, Madam, and these honourable Censors.
   Amo. Well, to the second Weapon, the better Reguard:
I will encounter you better. Attempt.
   Hed. Sweet Honour.
   Phi. What says my good Ambition?
   Hed. Which take you at this next Weapon? I lay a
discretion, with you, on Amorphus's Head.
   Phi. Why, I take the French-behav'd Gentleman.
   Hed. 'Tis done, a discretion.
   Cri. A discretion? A pretty Court-wager! would any
discreet person hazard his Wit, so?
   Pha. I'll lay a discretion with you, Anaides.
   Ana. Hang 'em. I'll not venture a doit of discretion
on either of their Heads ——
   Cri. No, he should venture all then.
   Ana. I like none of their Plays.
[A Charge.
   Hed. See, see, this is strange play!
   Ana. 'Tis too full of uncertain motion. He hobbles
too much.
   Cri. Tis call'd your Court-staggers, Sir.
   Hed. That same fellow talks so, now he has a Place.
   Ana. Hang him, neglect him.
   Mer. Your good Ladiships affectioned.
   Wif. Gods so! they speak at this Weapon, Brother!
   Aso. They must do so, Sister, how should it be the
better Reguard, else?
   Pha. Methinks he did not this respectively enough.
   Phi. Why, the Monsieur but dallies with him.
   Hed. Dallies? 'Slight see, he'll put him too't, in ear-
nest. Well done Amorphus.
   Ana. That puff was good indeed.
   Cri. Gods me! This is desperate play. He hits him-
self o' the Shins.
   Hed. An' he make this good through, he carries it,
I warrant him.
   Cri. Indeed he displays his Feet, rarely.
   Hed. See, see: He does the respective Leere damna-
bly well.
   Amo. The true idolater of your Beauties, shall never pass
their Deities unadored: I rest your poor Knight.
   Hed. See, now the oblique Leere, or the Janus: He sa-
tisfies all with that aspect most nobly.
   Cri. And most terribly he comes off: like your Rodo-
[A flourish.
mantada.
   Pha. How like you this Play, Anaides?
   Ana. Good play; but 'tis too rough and boisterous.
   Amo. I will second it with a stroke easier, wherein I
will prove his Language.
[A Charge.
   Ana. This is filthy, and grave, now.
   Hed. O, 'tis cool and wary Play. We must not dis-
grace our own camerade, too much.
   Amo. Signora, ho tanto obligo per ye favore rescinto da
lei; che veramente dessidero con tutto il core, a remunerarla
in parte: & sicurative signora mea cara, che iosera sem-
pre pronto a servirla, & honorarla. Bascio le mane de vo'
signoria.
   Cri. The Venetian Dop this.
   Pha. Most unexspectedly excellent! The French goes
down certain.
   Aso. As Buckets are put down into a Well:
Or as a school-boy ——
   Cri. Truss up your simile, Yack-daw, and observe.
   Hed. Now the Monsieur is mov'd.
   Ana. Boe peep.
Hed. O, most antick.
   Cri. The French Quirk, this Sir.

[column break]

   Ana. Heart, he will over-run her!
   Mer. Madamoyselle, Je voudroy que pouvoy monstrer mon
affection, mais je suis tant mal beureuse, ci froid, ci layd,
ci — Je ne scay qui di dire — excuse moy, Je suis tout vo-
[A flourish.
stre.
   Phi. O brave, and spirited! He's a right Jovialist.
   Pha. No, no: Amorphus's Gravity outways it.
   Cri. And yet your Lady, or your Feather would
outweigh both.
   Ana. What's the Prize, Lady, at this better Reguard?
   Mor. A Face favourably simpring, and a Fan waving.
   Ana. They have done doubtfully. Divide. Give the
favourable Face to the Signior, and the Light wave to the
Monsieur.
   Amo. You become the Simper well, Lady.
   Mer. And the Wag, better.
   Amo. Now, to our solemn Address. Please the Well-
grac'd Philautia to relieve the Lady Sentinel; she hath
stood long.
   Phi. With all my Heart; come Guardian; resign your
Place.
   Amo. Monsieur, furnish your self with what solemni-
ty of Ornament you think fit for this third Weapon; at
which you are to shew all the cunning of stroke your
Devotion can possibly devise.
   Mer. Let me alone, Sir. I'll sufficiently decypher your
amorous Solemnities. Crites, have patience. See, if I
hit not all their practick observance, with which they
Lime-twigs, to catch their phantastick Lady-birds.
   Cri. I, but you should do more charitably, to do it
more openly: that they might discover themselves
mockt in these monstrous Affections.
[A Charge.
   Mer. Lacquey, where's the Taylor?
   Tay. Here, Sir.
   Hed. See, they have their Taylor, Barber, Perfumer,
Millener, Jeweller, Feather-maker, all in common!
   Ana. I, this is pretty.
   Amo. Here is a Hair too much, take it off. Where
are thy Mullets?
[They make themselves ready on the Stage.

   Mer. Is this Pink of equal proportion to this cut,
standing of this distance from it?
   Tay. That it is, Sir.
   Mer. Is it so, Sir, you impudent Poultroun? you Slave,
you List, you Shreds, you ——
   Hed. Excellent. This was the best, yet.
   Ana. Why, we must use our Taylors thus. This is our
true Magnanimity.
   Mer. Come, go to: put on. We must bear with you,
for the times sake.
   Amo. Is the Perfume rich, in this Jerkin?
   Per. Tast, smell; I assure you Sir, pure Beniamin, the
only spirited scent, that ever awak't a Neapolitane Nostril.
You would wish your self all Nose, for the love on't. I
frotted a Jerkin, for a new-revenu'd Gentleman, yield-
ed me Threescore Crowns, but this Morning, and the
same Titillation.
   Amo. I favour no sampsuchine, in it,
Per. I am a nulli-fidian, if there be not three thirds of a
scruple more of sampsuchinum, in this Confection, than
ever I put in any. I'll tell you all the Ingredients, Sir.
   Amo. You shall be simple to discover your simples.
   Per. Simple? why Sir? what reck' I to whom I dis-
cover? I have in it Musk, Civit, Amber, Phœnicobalanus,
the Decoction of Turmerick, Sesana, Nard, Spikenard, Ca-
lamus odoratus, Stacte, Opobalsamum, Amomum, Storax, La-
danum, Aspalathum, Opopanax, Oenanthe. And what of
all these now? what are you the better? Tut, it is the
sorting, and the dividing, and the mixing, and the tem-
pring, and the searching, and the decocting, that makes
the fumigation, and the suffumigation.
   Amo. Well, indue me with it.
   Per. I will, Sir.
   Hed. An excellent Confection.
Cri.


Cynthia's Revels. 87

   Cri. And most worthy a true Voluptary. Jove!
what a Coyl these Musk-Worms take, to purchase ano-
thers delight? for, themselves, who bear the Odors, have
ever the least sence of them. Yet, I do like better the
prodigality of Jewels, and Clothes, whereof one pas-
seth to a Mans Heirs; the other, at least wears out time.
This presently expires, and without continual riot in
reparation is lost: which whoso strives to keep, it is one
special argument to me, that (affecting to smell better
than other Men) he doth indeed smell far worse.
   Mer. I know, you will say it sits well, Sir.
   Tay. Good faith, if it do not, Sir, let your Mistress be
Judge.
   Mer. By Heaven, if my Mistress do not like it, I'll
make no more Conscience to undo thee, than to undo
an Oyster.
   Tay. Believe it, there's ne'ere a Mistress i' the World
can mislike it.
   Mer. No, not Goodwife Taylor, your Mistress;
that has only the Judgment to heat your Pressing-
tool. But for a Court-Mistress, that studies these Deco-
rums, and knows the proportion of every cut, to a hair,
knows why such a Colour is cut upon such a Colour,
and, when a Satten is cut upon six Taffataes, will look
that we should dive into the depth of the cut — Give me
my Scarfe. Shew some Ribbands, sirrah. Ha' you the
Feather.
   Fet. I, Sir.
   Mer. Ha' you the Jewel?
   Jew. Yes, Sir.
   Mer. What must I give for the hire on't?
   Jew. You'll give me six Crowns, Sir?
   Mer. Six Crowns! By Heaven twere a good deed to
borrow it of thee to shew: and never let thee have it
again.
   Jew. I hope your Worship will not do so Sir.
   Mer. By Jove, Sir, there be such tricks stirring, I can
tell you, and worthily too. Extorting Knaves, that live
by these Court-decorums, and yet — What's your Jewel
worth I pray.
   Jew. A hundred Crowns, Sir.
   Mer. A hundred Crowns? And six for the loan on't
an hour? What's that i' the hundred for the year? These
Impostors would not be hang'd? your Thief is not com-
parable to 'em, by Hercules; well, put it in, and the Fea-
ther; you will ha't and you shall; and the Pox give you
good on't.
   Amo. Give me my Confects, my Moscardini, and place
those Colours in my Hat.
   Mer. These are Bolognian Ribbands, I warrant you.
   Mil. In truth, Sir: if they be not right Granado Silk —
   Mer. A Pox on you, you'll all say so.
   Mil. You give me not a Penny, Sir.
   Mer. Come Sir, perfume my Devant; May it ascend,
like solemn Sacrifice, into the Nostrils of the Queen of Love.
   Hed. Your French Ceremonies are the best.
   Ana. Monsieur, Signior, your solemn Address is too long.
The Ladies long to have you come on.
   Amo. Soft, Sir, our coming on is not so easily prepared
Signior Fig.
   Per. I, Sir.
   Amo. Can you help my Complexion, here?
   Per. O yes, Sir, I have an excellent mineral Fucus
for the purpose. The Gloves are right, Sir, you shall
bury 'em in a Muck-hill, a draught, seven years, and
take 'em out, and wash 'em, they shall still retain
their first scent, true Spanish. There's Ambre i' the
Umbre.
   Mer. Your Price, sweet Fig.
   Per. Give me what you will, Sir: The Signior pays
me two Crowns a pair; you shall give me your Love,
Sir.
   Mer. My Love? with a Pox to you, Goodman Sasafras.
   Per. I come, Sir. There's an excellent Diapasm in a
Chain too, if you like it.

[column break]

   Amo. Stay, what are the Ingredients to your Fucus?
   Per. Nought but Sublimate, and crude Mercury, Sir,
well prepar'd and dulcified, with the Jaw-bones of a
Sow, burnt, beaten, and searced.
   Amo. I approve it. Lay it on.
   Mer. I'll have your Chain of Pomander, sirrah; what's
your price?
   Per. Wee'll agree, Monsieur; I'll assure you, it was both
decocted and dryed, where no Sun came, and kept in
an Onyx ever since it was ball'd.
   Mer. Come, invert my Mustachio, and we have done.
   Amo. 'Tis good.
   Bar. Hold still I pray you, Sir.
   Per. Nay the Fucus is exorbitant, Sir.
   Mer. Death! dost thou burn me, Harlot?
   Bar. I beseech you, Sir.
   Mer. Begger, Varlet, Poultroun?
[A flourish.
   Hed. Excellent, excellent!
   Ana. Your French Beat is the most natural Beat of the
World.
   Aso. O that I had plaid at this Weapon.
   Pha. Peace, now they come on; the second part.
[A Charge.

   Amo. Madam, your Beauties being so attractive, I
muse you are left thus alone.
   Phi. Better be alone, Sir, than ill-accompanied.
   Amo. Nought can be ill, Lady, that can come near
your Goodness.
   Mer. Sweet Madam, on what part of you soever a
man casts his Eye, he meets with perfection; you are
the lively Image of Venus, throughout; all the Graces
smile in your Cheeks; your Beauty nourishes, as well
as delights; you have a Tongue steept in Honey; and a
Breath like a Panther: your Breasts and Forehead are
whiter than Goats Milk, or May-blossoms; a Cloud is
not so soft as your Skin. ——
   Hed. Well strook, Monsieur: he charges like a French-
man indeed, thick, and hotly.
   Mer. Your Cheeks are Cupids Baths, wherein he uses
to steep himself in Milk and Nectar: He do's light all
his Torches at your Eyes, and instructs you how to shoot,
and wound, with their Beams. Yet I love nothing, in
you, more than your innocence; you retain so native
a simplicity, so unblam'd a behaviour. Methinks, with
such a Love, I should find no Head, nor Foot of my
pleasure: You are the very Spirit of a Lady.
   Ana. Fair play, Monsieur you are too hot on the Quar-
ry. Give your Competitor Audience.
   Amo. Lady, how stirring soever the Monsieurs Tongue
is, he will lie by your side, more dull than your Eunuch.
   Ana. A good stroke; that mouth was excellently put
over.
   Amo. You are fair, Lady ——
   Cri. You offer foul, Signior, to close, keep your di-
stance; for all your Bravo rampant here.
   Amo. I say you are fair, Lady, let your choice be fit,
as you are fair.
   Mer. I say, Ladies do never believe they are fair, till
some Fool begins to dote upon 'em.
[A Flourish
   Phi. You play too rough, Gentlemen.
   Amo. Your Frenchified Fool is your only Fool, Lady:
I do yield to this honourable Monsieur, in all civil, and
human Courtesie.
   Mer. Buz.
   Ana. Admirable. Give him the Prize. Give him the
Prize; that mouth, again, was most courtly hit, and rare.
   Amo. I knew I should pass upon him with the bitter Bob.
   Hed. O, but the Reverse was singular.
   Pha. It was most subtile, Amorphus.
   Aso. If I had don't,done't it should have been better.
   Mer. How heartily they applaud this, Crites!
   Cri. You suffer 'em too long.
   Mer. I'll take off their edge instantly.
   Ana. Name the Prize, at the solemn Address.
Phi. Two


88 Cynthia's Revels.

   Phi. Two Lips wagging.
   Cri. And never a wise Word; I take it.
   Ana. Give to Amorphus. And, upon him again; let
him not draw free breath.
   Amo. Thanks fair Deliverer, and my honourable
Judges; Madam Phantaste, you are our worthy object
at this next Weapon.
   Pha. Most coveting ready, Amorphus.
   Hed. Your Monsieur is crest-faln.
   Ana. So are most of 'em once a year.
   Amo. You will see, I shall now give him the gentle dor,
presently, he forgetting to shift the Colours, which are
now chang'd with alteration of the Mistress. At your
last Weapon, Sir. The perfect Close. Set forward, intend
[A Charge
your approach, Monsieur.
   Mer. 'Tis yours Signior.
   Amo. With your example, Sir.
   Mer. Not I, Sir.
   Amo. It is your right.
   Mer. By no possible means.
   Amo. You have the way.
   Mer. As I am Noble ——
   Amo. As I am Virtuous —
   Mer. Pardon me, Sir.
   Amo. I will die first.
   Mer. You are a Tyrant in Courtesie.
   Amo. He is remov'd — Judges, bear witness.
[Amorphus stays the other on his moving.

   Mer. What of that, Sir?
   Amo. You are remov'd, Sir.
   Mer. Well.
   Amo. I challenge you; you have receiv'd the Dor. Give
me the Prize.
   Mer. Soft, Sir. How the Dor?
   Amo. The common Mistress, you see is changed.
   Mer. Right, Sir.
   Amo. And you have still in your Hat the former Colours.
   Mer. You lye, Sir, I have none: I have pull'd 'em
out. I meant to play discolour'd.
   Cri. The Dor, the Dor, the Dor, the Dor, the Dor! the
[A Flourish.
palpable Dor.
   Ana. Heart of my Blood, Amorphus, what ha' you done?
stuck a disgrace upon us all, and at your last Weapon?
   Aso. I could have done no more.
   Hed. By Heaven, it was most unfortunate luck.
   Ana. Luck! by that Candle, it was meer rashness, and
oversight; would any Man have ventured to play so open
and forsake his Ward? Dam' me if he have not eternal-
nallyeternally undone himself, in Court; and discountenanc'd
us, that were his main countenance, by it.
   Amo. Forgive it now. It was the Solecism of my Stars.
   Cri. The Wring of the Hand, and the Banquet, is ours.
   Mer. O, here's a Lady feels like a Wench of the first
year; you would think her Hand did melt in your
touch; and the Bones of her fingers ran out at length,
when you prest 'em, they are so gently delicate! He that
had the grace to print a kiss on these Lips, should taste
Wine, and Rose leaves. O, she kisses as close as a Cockle.
Let's take 'em down, as deep as our Hearts, Wench, till
our very Souls mix. Adieu, Signior: Good faith I shall
drink to you at Supper, Sir.
   Ana. Stay, Monsieur. Who awards you the Prize.
   Cri. Why, his proper merit, Sir: you see he has plaid
down your grand Garb-master, here.
   Ana. That's not in your Logick to determine, Sir: you
are no Courtier. This is none of your seven, or nine
beggerly Sciences, but a certain mystery above 'em where-
in we that have Skill must pronounce, and not such fresh-
men as you are.
   Cri. Indeed, I must declare my self to you no profest
Courtling; nor to have any excellent stroke, at your
subtil Weapons: yet if you please, I dare venture a hit
with you, or your fellow, Sir Dagonet, here.
   Ana. With me?
   Cri. Yes, Sir.

[column break]

   Ana. Heart, I shall never have such a fortune to save
my self in a fellow again, and your two Reputations,
Gentlemen, as in this. I'll undertake him.
   Hed. Do, and swinge him soundly, good Anaides.
   Ana. Let me alone, I'll play other manner of play, than
has been seen yet. I would the Prize lay on't.
   Mer. It shall if you will, I forgive my right.
   Ana. Are you so confident? what's your Weapon?
   Cri. At any, I, Sir.
   Mer. The perfect close, that's now the best.
   Ana. Content I'll pay your scholarity. Who offers?
   Cri. Marry, that will I: I dare give you that ad-
vantage too.
   Ana. You dare? Well, look to your liberal Skonce.
   Amo. Make your play still, upon the answer, Sir.
   Ana. Hold your Peace, you are a Hobby-horse.
   Aso. Sit by me, Master.
   Mer. Now Crites strike home.
   Cri. You shall see me undo the assur'd Swaggerer with
a trick, instantly: I will play all his own Play before
him; court the Wench in his Garb, in his Phrase, with
his Face; leave him not so much as a Look, an Eye, a
Stalk, or an imperfect Oath, to express himself by, af-
[A Charge.
ter me.
   Mer. Excellent, Crites.
   Ana. When begin you, Sir? Have you consulted?
   Cri. To your cost, Sir; which is the Piece stands forth
to be courted? O, are you she? Well, Madam, or sweet
Lady, it is so, I do love you in some sort, do you con-
ceive? and though I am no Monsieur, nor no Signior,
and do want (as they say) Logick and Sophistry, and good
Words, to tell you why it is so; yet by this Hand, and
by that Candle it is so: And though I be no Book-
worm, nor one that deals by Art, to give you Rhetorick
and Causes, why it should be so, or make it good it is so.
yet dam me, but I know it is so, and am assur'd it is so,
and I and my Sword shall make it appear it is so; and
give you reason sufficient how it can be no otherwise,
but so —
   Hed. 'Slight Anaides, you are mockt; and so we are
all.
   Mer. How now, Signior! What suffer your self to be
couzen'd of your Courtship, before your Face?
   Hed. This is plain Confederacy, to disgrace us: Let's
be gone, and plot some revenge.
   Amo. When men disgraces share,
             The lesser is the care.
   Cri. Nay, stay, my dear Ambition, I can do you over too
You that tell your Mistress, Her Beauty is all compos'd.period should be omitted
of theft: her Hair stole from Apollo's Goldy-locks; her
White and Red, Lillies and Roses stoln out of Paradise;
her Eyes two Stars, pluckt from the Sky; her Nose the
Gnomon of Loves Dial, that tells you how the Clock of
your Heart goes: And for her other parts, as you cannot
reckon 'em, they are so many; so you cannot recount
them, they are so manifest. Yours, if his own, unfortu-
nate Hoyden, in stead of Hedon.
   Aso. Sister come away, I cannot endure 'em longer.
[A Flourish.

   Mer. Go Dors, and you, my Madam Courting-stocks,
Follow your scorned.period should be omitted and derided Mates;
Tell to your guilty Breasts, what meer gilt Blocks
You are, and how unworthy humane states.
   Cri. Now, Sacred God of Wit, if you can make
Those, whom our sports tax in these apish Graces,
Kiss (like the fighting Snakes) your Peaceful Rod;
These times shall canonize you for a God.
   Mer. Why Crites, think you any noble Spirit,
Or any, worth the title of a Man,
Will be incens'd to see the inchanted Vails
Of Self-conceit, and servile Flattery,
(Wrapt in so many Folds, by time and custom)
Drawn from his wronged, and bewitched Eyes?
Who sees not now their shape, and nakedness,
Is


Cynthia's Revels. 89

Is blinder than the Son of Earth, the Mole;
Crown'd with no more Humanity, nor Soul.
   Cri. Though they may see it, yet the huge Estate
Phansie, and Form, and sensual Pride have gotten,
Will make them blush for anger, not for shame,
And turn shewn Nakedness to Impudence.
Humour is now the Test we try things in:
All Power is just: Nought that delights is Sin.
And yet the Zeal of every knowing Man
(Opprest with Hills of Tyranny, cast on Vertue
By the light Phant'sies of Fools, thus transported)
Cannot but vent the Ætna of his Fires,
T'enflame best Bosoms with much worthier Love
Than of these outward and effeminate Shades;
That these vain Joys, in which their Wills consume
Such Powers of Wit and Soul as are of force
To raise their Beings to Eternity,
May be converted on Works fitting Men:
And, for the practice of a forced Look,
An antick Gesture, or a fustian Phrase,
Study the native frame of a true Heart,
An inward Comliness of Bounty, Knowledge,
And Spirit, that may conform them actually
To Gods high Figures, which they have in power;
Which to neglect for a self-loving neatness,
Is Sacrilege of an unpardon'd greatness.
   Mer. Then let the Truth of these things strengthen thee,
In thy exempt, and only Man-like Course;
Like it the more, the less it is respected:
Though Men fail, Vertue is by Gods protected.
See, here comes Arete, I'll withdraw my self.

Act V.    Scene V.

Arete, Crites.

C
Rites, you must provide strait for a Mask,
 'Tis Cynthia's pleasure.   Cri. How, bright Arete!
Why, 'twere a Labour more for Hercules;
Better and sooner durst I undertake
To make the different Seasons of the Year,
The Winds, or Elements, to sympathize,
Than their unmeasurable Vanity
Dance truly in a Measure. They agree?
What though all Concord's born of Contraries?
So many Follies will Confusion prove,
And like a sort of jarring Instruments,
All out of tune; because (indeed) we see
There is not that Analogy 'twixt Discords,
As between things but meerly opposite.
   Are. There is your Error: For as Hermes Wand
Charms the Disorders of tumultuous Ghosts;
And as the Strife of Chaos then did cease,
When better Light than Nature's did arrive:
So, what could never in it self agree,
Forgetteth the Eccentrick Property,
And at her sight turns forthwith Regular,
Whose Scepter guides the flowing Ocean:
And though it did not, yet the most of them
(Being either Courtiers, or not wholly rude)
Respect of Majesty, the Place, and Presence,
Will keep then within Ring, especially
When they are not presented as themselves,
But mask'd like others: For (in troth) not so
T' incorporate them, could be nothing else,
Than like a State ungovern'd, without Laws,
Or Body made of nothing but Diseases:
The one, through Impotency poor and wretched;
The other, for the Anarchy absurd.
   Cri. But, Lady, for the Revellers themselves,
It would be better (in my poor conceit)
That others were employ'd; for such as are
Unfit to be in Cynthia's Court, can seem
No less unfit to be in Cynthia's Sports.

[column break]

   Are. That, Crites, is not purposed without
Particular knowledge of the Goddess Mind,
(Who holding true Intelligence, what Follies
Had crept into her Palace) she resolv'd
Of Sports and Triumphs, under that pretext
To have them muster in their Pomp and Fulness,
That so she might more strictly, and to root,
Effect the Reformation she intends.
   Cri. I now conceive her Heavenly drift in all,
And will apply my Spirits to serve her Will.
O thou, the very Power by which I am,
And but for which, it were in vain to be,
Chief next Diana, Virgin, Heavenly fair,
Admired Arete, (of them admir'd
Who Souls are not enkindled by the Sense)
Disdain not my chaste Fire, but feed the Flame
Devoted truly to thy gracious Name.
   Are. Leave to suspect us: Crites well shall find
As we are now most dear, we'll prove most kind.
Heark, I am call'd.   Cri. I follow instantly.
Phœbus Apollo, if with ancient Rites,
And due Devotions, I have ever hung
Elaborate Pæans on thy golden Shrine,
Or sung thy Triumphs in a lofty Strain,
Fit for a Theatre of Gods to hear;
And thou, the other Son of mighty Jove,
Cyllenian Mercury (sweet Maia's Joy)
If in the busie Tumults of the Mind,
My Path thou ever hast illumined,
For which thine Altars I have oft perfum'd,
And deckt thy Statues with discolour'd Flowers:
Now thrive Invention in this glorious Court,
That not of Bounty only, but of Right,
Cynthia may grace, and give it Life by sight.

Act V.    Scene VI.

Hesperus, Cynthia, Arete, Time, Phronesis, Thauma.

The H Y M N.

Q
Ueen, and Huntress, chaste and fair,
 Now the Sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy Silver Chair,
State in wonted manner keep:
      Hesperus entreats thy Light,
      Goddess excellently bright.

Earth, let not thy envious Shade
Dare it self to interpose;
Cynthia's shining Orb was made
Heaven to clear, when Day did close:
      Bless us then with wished Sight,
      Goddess excellently bright.

Lay thy Bow of Pearl apart,
And thy Crystal shining Quiver;
Give unto the flying Hart
Space to breath, how short soever:
      Thou that mak'st a Day of Night,
      Goddess excellently bright.

   Cyn. When hath Diana, like an envious Wretch,
That glitters only to hjshis soothed self,
Denying to the World the precious Use
Of hoarded Wealth, with-held her friendly Aid?
Monthly we spend our still-repaired Shrine,
And not forbid our Virgin-waxen Torch
To burn and blaze, while Nutriment doth last:
That once consum'd, out of Jove's Treasury
A new we take, and stick it in our Sphere,
To give the mutinous kind of wanting Men
Their lookt-for Light. Yet what is their Desert?
"Bounty is wrong'd, interpreted as due;
N                              "Mortals


90 Cynthia's Revels.

"Mortals can challenge not a Ray, by right,
"Yet do expect the whole of Cynthia's Light.
But if that Deities withdrew their Gifts
For humane Follies, what could Men deserve
But Death and Darkness? It behoves the High,
For their own sakes, to do things worthily.
   Are. Most true, most sacred Goddess; for the Heavens
Receive no good of all the good they do:
Nor Jove, nor you, nor other Heavenly Powers,
Are fed with Fumes which do from Incense rise,
Or Sacrifices reeking in their Gore;
Yet, for the Care which you of Mortals have,
(Whose proper good it is that they be so)
You well are pleas'd with Odours redolent:
But ignorant is all the Race of Men,
Which still complains, not knowing why, or when.
   Cyn. Else, Noble Arete, they would not blame,
And tax, or for unjust, or for as proud,
Thy Cynthia, in the things which are indeed
The greatest Glories in our Starry Crown;
Such is our Chastity, which safely scorns
(Not Love, for who more fervently doth love
Immortal Honour, and divine Renown?
But) giddy Cupid, Venus frantick Son.
Yet, Arete, if by this veiled Light
We but discover'd (what we not discern)
Any the least of Imputations stand
Ready to sprinkle our unspotted Fame
With note of Lightness, from these Revels near;
Not, for the Empire of the Universe,
Should Night, or Court, this whatsoever shine,
Or Grace of ours unhappily enjoy.
"Place and Occasion are two privy Thieves,
"And from poor innocent Ladies often steal
"(The best of things) an honourable Name:
"To stay with Follies, or where Faults may be,
"Infers a Crime, although the Party free.
   Are. How Cynthian-ly (that is, how worthily
And like her self) the matchless Cynthia speaks!
Infinite Jealousies, infinite Regards,
Do watch about the true Virginity:
But Phœbe lives from all, not only Fault,
But as from Thought, so from Suspicion free.
"Thy Presence Broad-seals our Delights for pure;
"What's done in Cynthia's sight, is done secure.
   Cyn. That then so answer'd (dearest Arete)
What th' Argument, or of what sort our Sports
Are like to be this night, I not demand.
Nothing which Duty, and desire to please
Bears written in the Forehead, comes amiss.
But unto whose Invention must we owe
The Complement of this Nights Furniture?
   Are. Excellent Goddess, to a Man's, whose Worth
(Without Hyperbole) I thus may praise;
One (at least) studious of deserving well,
And (to speak truth) indeed deserving well.
"Potential Merit stands for actual,
"Where only Opportunity doth want,
"Not Will, nor Power; both which in him abound.
One whom the Muses and Minerva love.
For whom should they, than Crites, more esteem,
Whom Phœbus (though not Fortune) holdeth dear?
And (which convinceth Excellence in him)
A principal Admirer of your self.
Even though th' ungentle Injuries of Fate,
And Difficulties, which do Vertue choak,
This much of him appears. What other things
Of farther note do lie unborn in him,
Them I do leave for cherishment to shew,
And for a Goddess graciously to judge.
   Cyn. We have already judg'd him, Arete;
Nor are we ignorant, how noble Minds
Suffer too much through those Indignities
Which Times and vicious Persons cast on them.

[column break]

Our self have ever vowed to esteem
(As Vertue for it self, so) Fortune base;
Who's first in Worth, the same be first in Place.
Nor farther notice (Arete) we crave
Than thine Approvals, sovereign Warranty:
Let's be thy Care to make us known to him;
"Cynthia shall brighten what the World made dim.

Act V.    Scene VII.

The First Masque.

[To them.
                 Cupid, like Anteros.

C
Lear Pearl of Heaven, and, not to be farther am-
 bitious in Titles, Cynthia: The Fame of this illu-
strious Night, among others, hath also drawn these four
fair Virgins from the Palace of their Queen Perfection,
(a Word which makes no sufficient difference 'twixt
hers and thine) to visit thy Imperial Court: For she,
their Sovereign, not finding where to dwell among
Men, before her return to Heaven, advised them whol-
ly to consecrate themselves to thy Celestial Service, as
in whose clear Spirit (the proper Element and Sphere
of Vertue) they should behold not her alone, (their
ever-honour'd Mistriss) but themselves (more truly
themselves) to live inthroniz'd. Her self would have
commended them unto thy Favour more particularly,
but that she knows no Commendation is more available
with thee, than that of proper Vertue. Nevertheless, she
will'd them to present this Crystal Mound, a Note of
Monarchy, and Symbol of Perfection, to thy more
worthy Deity; which, as here by me they most humbly
do, so amongst the Rarities thereof, that is the chief,
to shew whatsoever the World hath excellent, howso-
ever remote and various. But your irradiate Judgment
will soon discover the Secrets of this little Crystal
World. Themselves (to appear more plainly) because
they know nothing more odious than false Pretexts,
have chosen to express their several Qualities thus in se-
veral Colours.
   The first, in Citron Colour, is Natural Affection, which
given us to procure our Good, is sometime called Storge;
and as every one is nearest to himself, so this Hand-
maid of Reason, allowable Self-love, as it is without
harm, so are none without it: Her Place in the Court
of Perfection was to quicken Minds in the pursuit of
Honour. Her Device is a Perpendicular Level, upon a
Cube or Square; the Word, Se suo Modulo; alluding
to that true Measure of ones self, which as every one
ought to make, so is it most conspicuous in thy divine
Example.
   The second, in Green, is Aglaia, delectable and pleasant
Conversation, whose Property is to move a kindly Delight,
and sometime not without Laughter: Her Office, to en-
tertain Assemblies, and keep Societies together with fair
Familiarity. Her Device, within a Ring of Clouds, a
Heart with Shine about it; the Word, Curarum Nubila Pello:
An Allegory of Cynthia's Light, which no less clears the
Sky than her fair Mirth the Heart.
   The third, in the discolour'd Mantle spangled all over,
is Euphantaste, a well-conceited Wittiness, and employ'd in
honouring the Court with the Riches of her pure Invent-
tion. Her Device, upon a Petasus or Mercurial Hat, a Cres-
cent; the Word, Sic Laus Ingenii; inferring, that the praise
and glory of Wit doth ever increase, as doth thy growing
Moon.
   The fourth, in White, is Apheleia, a Nymph as pure and
simple as the Soul, or as an Abrase Table, and is therefore
called Simplicity; without Folds, without Pleights, with-
out Colour, without Counterfeit; and (to speak plainly)
Plainness it self. Her Device is no Device. The Word under
her Silver Shield, Omnis abest Fucus; alluding to thy spot-
less self, who art as far from Impurity as from Mortality.
My


Cynthia's Revels. 91

   My self (Celestial Goddess) more fit for the Court
of Cynthia than the Arbors of Cytheree, am call'd Ante-
ros, or Loves Enemy; the more welcome therefore to thy
Court, and the fitter to conduct this Quaternion, who as
they are thy professed Votaries, and for that cause ad-
versaries to Love, yet thee (perpetual Virgin) they both
love, and vow to love eternally.

Act V.    Scene VIII.

Cynthia, Arete, Crites.

N
Ot without wonder, nor without delight,
 Mine Eyes have view'd (in Contemplations depth)
This work of Wit, divine and excellent:
What shape, what substance, or what unknown power
In Virgins habit, crown'd with Lawrel Leaves,
And Olive Branches woven in between,
On Sea-girt Rocks, like to a Goddess shines?
O Front! O Face! O all Cælestial sure,
And more than mortal! Arete, behold
Another Cynthia, and another Queen,
Whose glory (like a lasting Plenilune)
Seems ignorant of what it is to wane.
Nor under Heaven an object could be found
More fit to please. Let Crites make approach.
Bounty forbids to pall our thanks with stay,
Or to defer our favour, after view:
"The time of grace is, when the cause is new.
   Are. Lo, here the Man (Celestial Delia)
Who (like a Circle bounded in it self)
Contains as much as Man in fulness may.
Lo, here the Man, who not of usual Earth,
But of that nobler and more precious mould
Which Phœbus self doth temper, is compos'd;
And, who (though all were wanting to reward)
Yet, to himself he would not wanting be:
Thy favours gain is his ambitions most,
And labours best; who (humble in his height)
Stands fixed silent in thy glorious sight.
   Cyn. With no less pleasure, than we have beheld
This precious Crystal work of rarest wit,
Our Eye doth read thee (now enstil'd) our Crites;
Whom learning, vertue, and our favour last,
Exempteth from the gloomy multitude.
"With common Eye the Supreme should not see.
Hence-forth be Ours, the more thy self to be.
   Cri. Heav'ns purest light, whose Orb may be eclips'd,
But not thy Praise; (divinest Cynthia)
How much too narrow for so high a grace,
Thine (save therein) the most unworthy Crites
Doth find himself! For ever shine thy fame;
Thine honours ever, as thy beauties do;
In me they must, my dark Worlds chiefest Lights,
By whose propitious Beams my powers are rais'd
To hope some part of those most lofty Points,
Which blessed Arete hath pleas'd to name,
As marks, to which my 'ndeavours steps should bend:
Mine, as begun at thee, in thee must end.

Act V.    Scene IX.

The Second Masque.

Mercury, as a Page.

S
Ister of Phœbus, to whose bright Orb we owe, that
 we not complain of his absence; These four Brethren
(for they are Brethren, and Sons of Eutaxia, a Lady
known, and highly belov'd of your resplendent Deity)
not able to be absent, when Cynthia held a Solemnity,
officiously insinuate themselves into thy presence: For,
as there are four Cardinal Vertues, upon which the
whole Frame of the Court doth move, so are these

[column break]

the four Cardinal properties, without which, the body
of Complement moveth not. With these four Silver
Javelins (which they bear in their Hands) they sup-
port in Princes Courts the state of the Presence, as by
office they are obliged; which, though here they may
seem superfluous, yet for honours sake, they thus pre-
sume to visit thee, having also been employ'd in the
Palace of Queen Perfection. And though to them that
would make themselves gracious to a Goddess, Sacrifices
were fitter than Presents, or Impresses, yet they both
hope thy Favour, and (in place of either) use several Sym-
bols, containing the Titles of thy Imperial Dignity.
   First, the hithermost, in the changeable blue and
green Robe, is the commendably-fashion'd Gallant,
Eucosmos; whose Courtly Habit is the grace of the Pre-
sence, and delight of the surveying Eye: whom La-
dies understand by the names of Neat and Elegant. His
Symbol is Divæ Virgini, in which he would express thy
Deities principal Glory, which hath ever been Vir-
ginity.
   The Second, in the rich Accoutrement, and Robe of
Purple, empaled with Gold, is Eupathes; who entertains
his mind with an harmless, but not incurious variety:
All the objects of his Senses are Sumptuous, himself a
Gallant, that, without excess, can make use of super-
fluity, go richly in Embroideries, Jewels, and what
not? without vanity, and fare delicately, without glut-
tony: and therefore (not without cause) is universally
thought to be of fine humour. His Symbol is Divæ
Optimæ; an Attribute to express thy Goodness, in which
thou so resemblest Jove thy Father.
   The Third, in the blush-colour'd Suit, is Eutolmos, as
duly respecting others, as never neglecting himself; com-
monly known by the Title of good Audacity: to Courts,
and courtly Assemblies, a Guest most acceptable. His
Symbol is, Divæ Viragini; to express thy hardy cou-
rage, in chase of savage Beasts, which harbour in Woods
and Wildernesses.
   The Fourth, in watchet Tinsel, is the kind and truly
benifique Eucolos; who imparteth not without respect,
but yet without difficulty; and hath the happiness to
make every kindness seem double, by the timely and
freely bestowing thereof. He is the chief of them, who
(by the vulgar) are said to be of good nature. His
Symbol is, Divæ Maximæ; an Adjunct to signifie
thy Greatness, which in Heaven, Earth, and Hell is for-
midable.

Act V.    Scene X.

The Masques joyn, and they dance.

Cupid, Mercury.

I
S not that Amorphus, the traveller?
   Mer. As though it were not! do you not see how
his Legs are in travel with a measure?
   Cup. Hedon, thy Master is next.
   Mer. What, will Cupid turn Nomenclator, and cry
them?
   Cup. No faith, but I have a Comœdy toward, that
would not be lost for a Kingdom.
   Mer. In good time, for Cupid will prove the Comœdy.
   Cup. Mercury, I am studying how to match them.
   Mer. How to mis-match them were harder.
   Cup. They are the Nymphs must do it; I shall sport
my self with their Passions above measure.
   Mer. Those Nymphs would be tam'd a little, indeed;
but I fear thou hast not Arrows for the purpose.
   Cup. O, yes, here be of all sorts, Flights, Rovers, and
But-shafts. But I can wound with a Brandish, and never
draw Bow for the matter.
   Mer. I cannot but believe it, my invisible Archer, and
yet methinks you are tedious.
N 2                             Cup. It


92 Cynthia's Revels.

   Cup. It behoves me to be somewhat circumspect, Mer-
cury; for if Cynthia hear the twang of my Bow, she'll
go neer to whip me with the string: therefore, to pre-
vent that, I thus discharge a brandish upon — it makes
no matter which of the couples. Phantaste, and Amor-
phus, at you.
   Mer. Will the shaking of a Shaft strike 'em into such
a Fever of Affection?
   Cup. As well as the winck of an Eye: but I pray thee,
hinder me not with thy prattle.
   Mer. Jove forbid I hinder thee. Marry, all that I
fear, is Cynthia's presence; which, with the cold of her
Chastity, casteth such an Antiperistasis about the place,
that no heat of thine will tarry with the Patient.
   Cup. It will tarry the rather, for the Antiperistasis will
keep it in.
   Mer. I long to see the experiment.
   Cup. Why, their Marrow boils already, or they are all
turn'd Eunuchs.
   Mer. Nay, and't be so, I'll give over speaking, and be
[The first strain done.
a spectator only.
   Amo. Cynthia (by my bright Soul) is a right exqui-
site, and splendidious Lady; yet Amorphus, I think, hath
seen more Fashions, I am sure more Countries: but whe-
ther I have, or not, whether need we gaze on Cynthia,
that have our self to admire?
   Pha. O, excellent Cynthia! yet if Phantaste sate where
she does, and had such Attire on her Head (for At-
tire can do much) I say no more — but Goddesses
are Goddesses, and Phantaste is as she is! I would the
Revels were done once, I might go to my School of
Glass again, and learn to do my self right after all this
ruffling.
   Mer. How now, Cupid? here's a wonderful change
with your brandish! do you not hear how they dote?
   Cup. What Prodigie is this? no word of Love? no
mention? no motion?
   Mer. Not a word, my little Ignis fatue, not a word.
   Cup. Are my Darts inchanted? Is their vigour gone?
is their Vertue —
   Mer. What? Cupid turn'd jealous of himself? ha, ha, ha.
   Cup. Laughs Mercury?
   Mer. Is Cupid angry?
   Cup. Hath he not cause, when his purpose is so de-
luded?
   Mer. A rare Comœdie, it shall be intituled, Cupids.
   Cup. Do not scorn us, Hermes.
   Mer. Choler, and Cupid, are two fiery things; I scorn
'em not. But I see that come to pass, which I presag'd
in the beginning.
   Cup. You cannot tell: perhaps the Physick will not
work so soon upon some, as upon others. It may be,
the rest are not so resty.
   Mer. Ex ungue; you know the old adage, as these, so
are the remainder.
   Cup. I'll try: this is the same Shaft with which I
wounded Argurion.
   Mer. I, but let me save you a labour, Cupid: there
were certain Bottles of Water fetcht, and drunk off
(since that time) by these Gallants.
   Cup. Jove, strike me into Earth: the Fountain of self-
Love!
   Mer. Nay, faint not, Cupid.
   Cup. I remembred it not.
   Mer. Faith, it was ominous to take the name of An-
teros upon you, you know not what Charm or Inchant-
ment lies in the word: you saw, I durst not venture up-
on any device, in our presentment, but was content
to be no other than a simple Page. Your Arrows pro-
perties (to keep decorum) Cupid, are suted (it should
seem) to the nature of him you personate.
   Cup. Indignity not to be born.
   Mer. Nay rather, an attempt to have been forborn.
   Cup. How might I revenge my self on this insulting

[column break]

Mercury? there's Crites, his minion, he has not tasted of
this Water. It shall be so. Is Crites turn'd dotard on
[The second Strain.
himself too?
   Mer. That follows not, because the Venome of your
Shafts cannot pierce him, Cupid.
   Cup. As though there were one Antidote for these;
and another for him.
   Mer. As though there were not; or as if one effect
might not arise of divers causes? What say you to
Cynthia, Arete, Phronesis, Time, and others there?
   Cup. They are Divine.
   Mer. And Crites aspires to be so.
   Cup. But that shall not serve him.
   Mer. 'Tis like to do it, at this time. But Cupid is
grown too covetous, that will not spare one of a mul-
titude.
[The third strain.
   Cup. One is more than a multitude.
   Mer. Aretes favour makes any one Shot-proof against
thee, Cupid. I pray thee, light Hony-bee, remember
thou art not now in Adonis Garden, but in Cynthia's pre-
sence, where Thorns lie in Garrison about the Roses.
Soft Cynthia speaks.

Act V.    Scene XI.

Cynthia, Arete, Crites, Masquers.

L
Adies, and Gallants of our Court, to end,
And give a timely period to our Sports,
Let us conclude them with declining Night;
Our Empire is but of the darker half.
And if you judge it any recompence
For your fair pains, t'have earn'd Diana's thanks;
Diana grants them: and bestows their Crown
To gratifie your acceptable Zeal.
For you are they, that not (as some have done)
Do censure us, as too severe and sowre,
But as (more rightly) gracious to the good;
Although we not deny, unto the proud,
Or the prophane, perhaps indeed austere:
For so Actæon, by presuming far,
Did (to our grief) incur a fatal doom;
And so, swoln Niobe (comparing more
Than he presum'd) was trophæed into Stone.
But are we therefore judged too extreme?
Seems it no crime, to enter sacred Bowers,
And hallowed Places, with impure aspect,
Most lewdly to pollute? Seems it no crime,
To brave a Deity? Let Mortals learn
To make Religion of offending Heaven;
And not at all to censure Powers Divine.
To Men, this argument should stand for firm,
'A Goddess did it, therefore it was good:
'We are not cruel, nor delight in Blood.
But what have serious repetitions
To do with Revels, and the Sports of Court?
We not intend to sowre your late delights
With harsh expostulation. Let's suffice,
That we take notice, and can take revenge
Of these calumnious, and lewd Blasphemies.
For we are no less Cynthia, than we were,
Nor is our Power (but as our self) the same:
Though we have now put on no tire of shine,
But mortal Eyes undaz'led may endure.
'Years are beneath the Spheres: and time makes weak
'Things under Heaven, not Powers which govern Heaven.
And though our self be, in our self secure,
Yet let not Mortals challenge to themselves
Immunity from thence. Lo, this is all:
'Honour hath store of Spleen, but wanteth Gall.
Once more, we cast the slumber of our thanks
On your ta'n toil, which here let take an end.
And that we not mistake your several worths,
Nor you our favour, from your selves remove
What


Cynthia's Revels. 93

What makes you not your selves, those Clouds of Mask:    
[They unmask.
"Particular Pains, particular Thanks do ask.
How! let me view you. Ha! are we contemn'd?
Is there so little awe of our Disdain,
That any (under trust of their Disguise)
Should mix themselves with others of the Court,
And (without Forehead) boldly press so far,
As farther none? How apt is Lenity
To be abus'd? Severity to be loath'd?
And yet, how much more doth the seeming Face
Of Neighbour-Vertues, and their borrowed Names,
Add of lewd Boldness to loose Vanities?
Who would have thought that Philautia durst
Or have usurped Noble Storges Name,
Or with that Theft have ventur'd on our Eyes?
Who would have thought, that all of them should hope
So much of our Continence, as to come
To grace themselves with Titles not their own?
In stead of Med'cins, have we Maladies?
And such Imposthumes as Phantaste is,
Grow in our Palace? We must lance these Sores,
Or all will putrifie. Nor are these all,
For we suspect a farther Fraud than this:
Take off our Vail, that Shadows may depart,
And Shapes appear: Beloved Arete! —— So,
Another Face of Things presents it self,
Than did of late. What! feather'd Cupid mask'd,
And mask'd like Anteros? And stay! more strange!
Dear Mercury, our Brother, like a Page,
To countenance the Ambush of the Boy?
Nor endeth our Discovery as yet:
Gelaia, like a Nymph, that but e're-while
(In male Attire) did serve Anaides?
Cupid came hither to find Sport and Game,
Who heretofore hath been to conversant
Among our Train, but never felt Revenge;
And Mercury bare Cupid company.
Cupid, we must confess, this time of Mirth
(Proclaim'd by us) gave opportunity
To thy Attempts, although no Privilege;
Tempt us no farther; we cannot endure
Thy Presence longer; vanish hence, away.
You, Mercury, we must entreat to stay,
And hear what we determine of the rest;
For in this Plot we well perceive your Hand.
But (for we mean not a Censorian Task,
And yet to lance these Ulcers grown so ripe)
Dear Arete, and Crites, to you two
We give the Charge; impose what Pains you please:
Th' incurable cut off, the rest reform,
Remembring ever what we first decreed,
Since Revels were proclaim'd, let now none bleed.
   Are. How well Diana can distinguish Times,
And sort her Censures, keeping to her self
The Doom of Gods, leaving the rest to us?
Come, cite them, Crites, first, and then proceed.
   Cri. First, Philautia, (for she was the first)
Then light Gelaia, in Aglaias Name;
Thirdly, Phantaste, and Moria next,
Main Follies all, and of the Female Crew:
Amorphus, or Eucosmos Counterfeit,
Voluptuous Hedon, ta'ne for Eupathes,
Brazen Anaides, and Asotus last,
With his two Pages, Morus and Prosaites;
And thou, the Traveller's Evil, Cos, approach,
Impostors all, and Male Deformities ——
   Are. Nay, forward, for I delegate my Power,
And will that at thy Mercy they do stand,
Whom they so oft, so plainly scorn'd before.
"'Tis Vertue which they want, and wanting it,
"Honour no Garment to their Backs can fit.
Then, Crites, practise thy Discretion.
   Cri. Adored Cynthia, and bright Arete,
Another might seem fitter for this Task,

[column break]

Than Crites far, but that you judge not so:
For I (not to appear vindicative,
Or mindful of Contempts, which I contemn'd,
As done of impotence) must be remiss;
Who, as I was the Author, in some sort,
To work their Knowledge into Cynthia's sight,
So should be much severer to revenge
Th' Indignity hence issuing to her Name:
But there's not one of these who are unpain'd,
Or by themselves unpunished; for Vice
Is like a Fury to the vicious Mind,
And turns Delight it self to Punishment.
But we must forward, to design their Doom.
You are Offenders, that must be confest;
Do you confess it?   All. We do.
   Cri. And that you merit sharp Correction?   All. Yes.
   Cri. Then we (reserving unto Delia's Grace
Her farther Pleasure, and to Arete
What Delia granteth) thus do sentence you.
That from this Place (for Penance known of all,
Since you have drunk so deeply of self-love)
You (two and two) singing a Palinode,
March to your several Homes by Niobe's Stone,
And offer up two Tears apiece thereon,
That it may change the Name, as you must change,
And of a Stone be called Weeping-Cross,
Because it standeth cross of Cynthia's way,
One of whose Names is Sacred Trivia.
And, after Penance thus perform'd, you pass
In like set Order, not as Midas did,
To wash his Gold off into Tagus Stream;
But to the Well of Knowledge, Helicon;
Where purged of your present Maladies,
(Which are not few, nor slender) you become
Such as you fain would seem, and then return,
Offering your Service to great Cynthia.
This is your Sentence, if the Goddess please
To ratifie it with her high Consent.
"The scope of wise Mirth unto Fruit is bent.
   Cyn. We do approve thy Censure, belov'd Crites;
Which Mercury, thy true propitious Friend,
(A Deity next Jove belov'd of us)
Will undertake to see exactly done.
And for this Service of Discovery,
Perform'd by thee, in honour of our Name,
We vow to guerdon it with such due Grace
As shall become our Bounty, and thy Place.
"Princes that would their People should do well,
"Must at themselves begin, as at the Head;
"For Men, by their Example, pattern out
"Their Imitations, and regard of Laws:
"A vertuous Court a World to Vertue draws.

P A L I N O D E.

   Amo. From Spanish Shrugs, French Faces, Smirks, Irps,
and all affected Humours,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Pha. From secret Friends, sweet Servants, Loves Doves,
and such fantastisk Humours,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Amo. From stabbing of Arms, Flap-dragons, Healths,
Whiffs, and all such swaggering Humours,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Pha. From waving Fans, coy Glances, Glicks, Cringes,
and all such simpring Humours,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Amo. From making Love by Attorney, courting of Pup-
pets, and paying for new Acquaintance,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.
Pha. From


94 Cynthia's Revels.

   Pha. From perfum'd Dogs, Monkeys, Sparrows, Dildoes,
and Parachitoes,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Amo. From wearing Bracelets of Hair, Shoe-ties, Gloves,
Garters, and Rings with Poesies,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Pha. From pargetting, painting, slicking, glazing, and
renewing old rivel'd Faces,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Amo. From Squiring to Tilt-yards, Play-houses, Pageants,
and all such Publick Places,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Pha. From entertaining one Gallant to gull another, and
making Fools of either,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

   Amo. From belying Ladys Favours, Noblemens Counte-
nance, coyning counterfeit Employments, vain-glorious taking
to them other Mens Services, and all self-loving Humours,
                                 Chorus. Good Mercury defend us.

S O N G.

    N
Ow each one dry his weeping Eyes,
    And to the Well of Knowledge haste;
        Where purged of your Maladies,
                    You may of sweeter Waters taste,
                         And, with refined Voice, report
                         The Grace of Cynthia, and her Court.

[column break]

THE
E P I L O G U E.

G
Enteels, be't known to you, since I went in,
 I am turn'd Rimer, and do thus begin:
The Author (jealous how your Sense doth take
His Travels) hath enjoyned me to make
Some short and ceremonious Epilogue;
But if I yet know what, I am a Rogue:
He ties me to such Laws as quite distract
My Thoughts, and would a Year of Time exact:
I neither must be faint, remiss, nor sorry,
Sowr, serious, confident, nor peremptory;
But betwixt these. Let's see, to lay the blame
Upon the Childrens Action, that were lame.
To crave your favour, with a begging Knee,
Were to distrust the Writer's Faculty.
To promise better at the next we bring,
Prorogues Disgrace, commends not any thing.
Stiffly to stand on this, and proudly approve
The Play, might tax the Maker of Self-love.
I'll only speak what I have heard him say,
By — 'tis good, and if you like't, you may.

T H E   E N D.




Ecce rubet quidam, pallet, stupet, oscitat, odit.

   Hoc volo: nunc nobis carmina nostra placent.









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