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Did e'er cast up such joys, nor the like sum
(But here) shall stand in the world, years to come,

Dread king, our hearts make good what words do want,
To bid thee boldly enter Troynouant.

Several pages, which follow the last extract, are consumed in the arrangement of the procession, and an account of the erections and dilapidations to be occasioned by the ceremony. After this follows a detail of the pageant. Here, "Divine Wisdom," and the "Genius of the City," become companions, for the first time. The "River Thames," and " Loving Affection,”"Promptitude" and "Unanimity," and other sociable abstractions, make their appearance. Then comes the " Italians' pageant," with Latin speeches and inscriptions.-Then the pageant of the "Dutchmen," who offer to his majesty equally good Latin, upon large azure tables, lined with characters of gold. Then comes the "Device at Soper Lane End," which place is converted into Arabia the happy, and produces an anomalous lady, called "Arabia Britannica," attired in white, with "Fame" by her side, (a " Woman in a Watchet Robe,") and the five Senses properly apparelled. At some distance from these,-But we must here yield up to the author the advantage of his own words, as it will give the reader a better idea than we could otherwise afford him of the character of Mr. Dekker's production.

"Some pretty distance from them, (and, as it were, in the midst before them), an artificial laver or fount was erected, called the Fount of Arate (Virtue), sundry pipes, (like veins), branching from the body of it; the water receiving liberty but from one place, and that very slowly.

"At the foot of this fount, two personages (in greater shapes than the rest), lay sleeping; upon their breasts stuck their names, Detractio, Oblivio; the one holds an open cup, about whose brim a wreath of curled snakes were winding, intimating that whatsoever his lips touched was poisoned, the other held a black cup covered, in token of an envious desire to drown the worth and memory of noble persons.

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Upon an ascent on the right hand of these, stood the three Charities or Graces, hand-in-hand, attired like three sisters.

Aglaia,
Thalia,

Euphrosine,

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figuring

Brightness, or Majesty.
Youthfulness, or Flourishing.
Cheerfulness, or Gladness.

They were all three virgins, their countenances labouring to smother an innate sweetness and cheerfulness that apparelled their cheeks; yet hardly to be hid. Their garments were long robes of sundry colours, hanging loose: the one had a chaplet of

sundry flowers on her head, clustered here and there with the fruits of the earth. The second, a garland of ears of corn. The third, a wreath of vine branches, mixt with grapes and olives.

Their hair hung down over their shoulders loose and of a bright colour, for that epithet is properly bestowed upon them by Homer, in his hymn to Apollo.

PULCHRICOME CHARITES.

The Bright-haired Graces.

They held in their hands pensil'd shields; upon the first was drawn a rose; on the second three dice; on the third a branch of myrtle.

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In a direct line against them stood the three flowers, to whom in this place we give the names of Love, Justice, and Peace; they were attired in loose robes of light colours, painted with flowers, for so Ovid apparels them.

Conveniunt pictis incinctæ vestibus Horæ.

Wings at their feet, expressing their swiftness, because they are Lackies to the sun: Jungere equos Tytan velocibus imperat Horis.

Ovid.

Each of them held two goblets, the one full of flowers (as ensign of the spring), the other full of ripened figs, the cognizance of summer. Upon the approach of his majesty, sad and solemn musick having beaten the air all the time of his absence, and now ceasing, Fame speaks.

Fama.

Turn into ice mine eye-balls, whilst the sound
Flying through this brazen trump, may back rebound
To stop Fame's hundred tongues, leaving them mute,
As in an untoucht bell, or stringless lute;

For Virtue's fount, which late ran deep and clear,

Dry, and melts all her body to a tear.

You Graces, and you hours that each day run
On the quick errands of the golden sun,

O say, to Virtue's fount what has befel,
That thus her veins shrink up?

We cannot tell.

Charity's Hora.

Euphrosine.

Behold the five-fold guard of sense which keeps
The sacred stream, sit drooping; near them sleep
Two horrid monsters: Fame, summon each sense,
To tell the cause of this strange accidence.

Hereupon Fame sounding her trumpet; Arabia Brittannica looks cheerfully up, the senses are startled, Detraction and Oblivion throw off their iron slumber, busily bestowing all their powers to fill their cups at the fount with their old malicious intention to suck it dry; but a strange and heavenly music suddenly striking through their ears, which causing a wildness and quick motion in their looks, drew them to light upon the glorious presence of the king, they were suddenly thereby daunted and sunk down."

Our next quotation shall consist of a lyric, (sung by choristers), which is worthy of any masque whatever. The openings of the two first stanzas are beautiful.

CANT.
1.

Troynouant is now no more a city:

O great pity! is't not pity?
And yet her towers on tiptoe stand,
Like pageants built on fairy land;
And her marble arms,

Like to magic charms,

Bind thousands fast unto her,

That for her wealth and beauty daily woo her;
Yet, for all this, is't not pity,

Troynouant is now no more a city?

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By virtue of that holy light,

That burns in Hymen's hand, more bright
Than the silver moon

Or the torch of noon;

Hark what the echoes say!

Britain till now ne'er kept a holiday,
For Jove dwels here: and 'tis no pity
If Troynouant be now no more a city."

After this, we are favoured by the author tedious explanation of the foregoing verses.

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with a somewhat We then arrive at

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the aldermen, town clerk, and counsel of the Citie.' recorder makes a speech to the King (which we will spare the reader); after which, three cups of gold are presented to his Majesty, in requital for the patience which it is presumed he must display upon this occasion. His Majesty next encounters "Sylvanus," dressed up in green ivy, with four of his followers similarly, accoutred.

"Upon sight of his Majesty, they make a stand, Sylvanus breaking forth into this abrupt passion of joy:

Sylvanus.

Stay, Sylvanus, and let the loudest voice of music proclaim it, (even as high as heaven), that he is come.

Alter Apollo redit, Nouus En, iam regnat Apollo.

Which acclammation of his was borne up into the air, and there mingled with the breath of their musical instruments; whose sound being vanished to nothing, thus goes our speaker on:

Sylvanus.

Most happy Prince, pardon me, that being mean in habit, and wild in appearance, (for my richest livery is but leaves, and my stateliest dwelling in the woods), thus rudely, with piping Sylvans, I presume to intercept your Royal passage. These are my walks; yet stand I here, not to cut off your way, but to give it a full and a bounteous welcome, being a messenger sent from the Lady Eirene, my mistress, to deliver an errand to the best of all these worthies, your royal self. Many kingdoms hath the lady sought out to abide in, but from them all, hath she been most churlishly banished: not that her beauty did deserve such unkindness, but that (like the eye of heaven) her's were too bright, and there were no eagles breeding in those nests, that could truly behold them.

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At last here she arrived, destiny subscribing to this warrant, that none but this land should be her inheritance."

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6

We must now pass by Peace' and Plenty, Gold' and Silver,' Pomona' and Ceres,' and come at once upon the following pastoral description of Vertumnus.'

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"Instead of a hat, his brows were bound about with flowers, out of those thick heaps, here and there, peeped a queer apple, a cherry, or a peach, this boon-grace he made of purpose to keep his face from heat, (because he desired to look lovely) yet the sun found him out, and by casting a continual eye at him, whilst the old man was dressing his arbours, his cheeks grew tawnie, which colour, for the better grace, he himself interpreted blushing. A white head he had, and sun burnt hands; in the one he held a weeding hook, in the other a grafting knife; and this was the tenor of his speech: That he was bound to give thanks to heaven, in that the arbour and trees, which glowing in that fruitful Cynthian garden, began to droop and hang down their green heads, and to uncurl their crisped forlocks, as fearing, and in some sort, feeling the sharpness of autumnian malice, are now on the sudden, by the divine influence, apparelled with a fresh and more lively verdure than ever they were before.'

Music is now commanded to carry all the prayers of the persons present for his Majesty's happy reign as "hie as Heaven," which she does in the following agreeable manner :—

Canto.

Shine, Titan, shine,

Let thy sharp rays be hurl'd

Not on this under world,

For now tis none of thine.

These first four lines were sung by one alone, the single lines. following, by a chorus in full voices.

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