Masques.
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room for a bombard man, that brought bouge for a Coun-
try Lady or two, that fainted, he said, with fasting, for
the fine sight since seven a Clock i' the morning. O how
it griev'd me, that I was prevented o' that shape, and
had not toucht on it in time. It lik'd me so well. But I
thought I would offer at it yet. Marry before I could pro-
cure my properties, alarum came, that some of the
Whimlen's had too much; and one shew'd how fruitfully
they had watered his head, as he stood under the grices;
and another came out complaining of a cataract, shot
into his eyes, by a planet, as he was star-gazing. There
was that device defeated. By this time I saw a fine Citi-
zens Wife, or two, let in; and that figure provok'd me
exceedingly to take it; which I had no sooner done, but
one o' the Black-guard had his hand in my vestry, and
was groping of me as nimbly as the Christmas cut-purse.
He thought he might be bold with me, because I had not
a Husband in sight to squeak to. I was glad to forgo my
form, to be rid of his hot steeming affection, it so smelt
o' the boyling house. Forty other devices I had, of Wyre-
men, and the Chandrie, and I know not what else: but all
succeeded alike. I offered money too, but that could
not be done so privately, as it durst be taken, for the dan-
ger of an example. At last, a troop of strangers came to
the door; with whom I made my self sure to enter: but
before I could mix, they were all let in, and I left alone,
without, for want of an Interpreter. Which, when I
was fain to be to my self a Colossus, the company told me,
I had English enough to carry me to bed; with which, all
the other statues of flesh laugh'd. Never, till then, did
I know the want of an hook, and a piece of beef, to have
baited three or four o' those goodly wide mouths with.
In this despair, when all invention, and translation too,
fail'd me, I e'ne went back, and stuck to this shape you
see me in, of mine own, with my broom, and my can-
dles, and came on confidently, giving out, I was a part
o' the device: At which, though they had little to do with
wit; yet, because some on't might be used here to night,
contrary to their knowledg, they thought it fit, way
should be made for me; and, as it falls out, to small pur-
pose.
Plut. Just as much as you are fit for. Away idle spirit;
and thou the idle cause of his adventring hither, vanish
with him. 'Tis thou, that art not only the sower of va-
nities, in these high places, but the call of all other light
follies to fall, and feed on them. I will endure thy prodi-
gality, nor riots no more; they are the ruine of states.
Nor shall the tyranny of these nights, hereafter impose a
necessity upon me, of entertaining thee. Let 'hem em-
brace more frugal pastimes. Why should not the thrifty
and right worshipful game of Post and Pair content 'hem?
Or the witty invention of Noddie, for counters? or God
make them rich, at the Tables? but Masking, and Revel-
ling? Were not these Ladies, and their Gentlewomen
more housewifely employed, a dozen of 'hem to a light,
or twenty (the more the merrier) to save charges i' their
chambers, at home, and their old night-gowns, at Draw-
gloves, Riddles, Dreams, and other pretty Purposes, rather
than to wake here, in their flaunting wires, and tires,
lac'd gowns, embroidered petticoats, and other taken-up
braveries. Away, I will no more of these superfluous ex-
cesses. They are these make me hear so ill, both in town
and country, as I do; which, if they continue, I shall be
the first shall leave 'hem.
Masq. Either I am very stupid, or this a reformed
Cupid.
Rob. How? do's any take this for Cupid? the Love in
Court.
Masq. Yes, is't not he?
Rob. Nay then, we spirits (I see) are subtler yet, and
somewhat better discoverers. No; it is not he, nor his
Brother Anti-Cupid, the Love of Vertue, though he pretend
to it with his phrase and face: 'Tis that Impostor Plutus,
the God of money, who has stoln Love's ensigns; and in
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his belied figure, raigns; the world making friendships,
contracts, marriages, and almost religion; begetting,
breeding, and holding the nearest respects of mankind;
and usurping all those offices in this Age of gold, which
Love himself perform'd in the golden Age. 'Tis he, that
pretends to tye Kingdoms, maintain commerce, dispose
of honours, make all places and dignities arbitrary from
him: even to the very Country, where Love's name can-
not be ras'd out, he has yet gain'd there upon him, by a
proverb, insinuating his preeminence, Not for love, or mo-
ney. There Love lives confin'd, by his tyranny, to a cold
Region, wrapt up in furres like a Muscovite, and almost
frozen to death: while he, in his inforced shape, and with
his ravish'd Arms, walks as if he were to set bounds, and
give laws to destiny. 'Tis you, mortals, that are fools;
and worthy to be such, that worship him: for if you had
wisdom, he had no God-head. He should stink in the
grave with those wretches, whose Slave he was. Con-
temn him, and he is one. Come, follow me. I'll bring
you where you shall find Love, and by the vertue of this
Majesty, who projecteth so powerful beams of light and
heat through this Hemisphere, thaw his icie fetters, and
scatter the darkness that obscures him. Then, in despight
of this insolent and barbarous Mammon, your sports may
proceed, and the solemnities of the night be compleat,
without depending on so earthy an idol.
Plut. I, do; attempt it: 'Tis like to find most necessary
and fortunate event, whatsoever is enterpris'd without my
aides. Alas! how bitterly the spirit of Poverty spouts it
self against my weal, and felicity! but I feel it not. I che-
rish and make much of my self, flow forth in ease, and
delicacy, while that murmures, and starves.
Enter Cupid, in his Chariot, guarded with the Masquers.
S O N G.
, How came Love, that is himself a fire, to be so cold!
Yes, tyran Money quencheth all desire, or makes it old.
But here are beauties will revive
Loves youth, and keep his heat alive:
As often as his Torch here dies,
He need but light it at fresh eyes.
Joy, joy, the more: for in all Courts,
If Love be cold, so are his sports.
C U P I D.
I have my spirits again, and feel my lims.
Away with this cold cloud, that dims
My light. Lie there my furres, and charms,
Love feels a heat, that inward warms,
And guards him naked, in these places,
As at his birth, or 'mongst the Graces.
Impostor Mammon, come, resign
This bow and quiver; they are mine.
Thou hast too long usurp'd my rites,
I now am Lord of mine own nights.
Be gone, whilst yet I give thee leave.
When, thus, the world thou wilt deceive,
Thou canst in youth and beauty shine,
Belie a God-heads form divine,
Scatter thy gifts, and flie to those,
Where thine own humor may dispose:
But when to good men thou art sent,
By Joves direct commandment,
Thou then, art aged, lame, and blind,
And canst nor path nor persons find.
Go, honest spirit, chase him hence,
T' his caves; and there let him dispence
For murders, treasons, rapes, his bribes
Unto the discontented tribes;
Where, let his heaps grow daily less,
And he, and they, still want success.
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