Cynthia's Revels Part 30

ARE. Leave to suspect us: Crites well shall find, As we are now most dear, we'll prove most kind.

[WITHIN.] Arete!

ARE. Hark, I am call'd. [EXIT.]

CRI. I follow instantly.

Phoebus Apollo, if with ancient rites, And due devotions, I have ever hung Elaborate Paeans on thy golden shrine, Or sung thy triumphs in a lofty strain, Fit for a theatre of G.o.ds to hear: And thou, the other son of mighty Jove, Cyllenian Mercury, sweet Maia's joy, If in the busy tumults of the mind My path thou ever hast illumined, For which thine altars I have oft perfumed, And deck'd 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. [EXIT.]

SCENE III.

ENTER HESPERUS, CYNTHIA, ARETE, TIME, PHRONESIS, AND THAUMA.

MUSIC ACCOMPANIED. HESPERUS SINGS.

Queen 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, G.o.ddess, excellently bright.

Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's s.h.i.+ning orb was made Heav'n to clear, when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, G.o.ddess excellently bright.

Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal s.h.i.+ning quiver; Give unto the flying hart s.p.a.ce to breathe, how short soever: Thou, that mak'st a day of night, G.o.ddess excellently bright.

CYN. When hath Diana, like an envious wretch, That glitters only to his soothed self, Denying to the world the precious use Of h.o.a.rded wealth, withheld her friendly aid?

Monthly we spend our still-repaired s.h.i.+ne, And not forbid our virgin-waxen torch To burn and blaze, while nutriment doth last: That once consumed, out of Jove's treasury A new we take, and stick it in our sphere, To give the mutinous kind of wanting men Their look'd-for light. Yet what is their desert?

Bounty is wrong'd, interpreted as due; 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 human 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 G.o.ddess; 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 pleased with odours redolent: But ignorant is all the race of men, Which still complains, not knowing why, or when.

CYN. Else, n.o.ble 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 chast.i.ty, which safely scorns, Not love, for who more fervently doth love Immortal honour, and divine renown?

But giddy Cupid, Venus' frantic 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 s.h.i.+ne, 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 Cynthianly, that is, how worthily And like herself, the matchless Cynthia speaks!

Infinite jealousies, infinite regards, Do watch about the true virginity: But Phoebe 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 night's furniture?

ARE. Excellent G.o.ddess, 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 Phoebus, though not Fortune, holdeth dear?

And, which convinceth excellence in him, A princ.i.p.al admirer of yourself: Even through the ungentle injuries of Fate, And difficulties, which do virtue choke, Thus 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 G.o.ddess graciously to judge.

CYN. We have already judged him, Arete, Nor are we ignorant how n.o.ble minds Suffer too much through those indignities Which times and vicious persons cast on them.

Ourself have ever vowed to esteem As virtue for itself, so fortune, base; Who's first in worth, the same be first in place.

Nor farther notice, Arete, we crave Then thine approval's sovereign warranty: Let 't be thy care to make us known to him; Cynthia shall brighten what the world made dim.

[EXIT ARETE.]

THE FIRST MASQUE.

ENTER CUPID, DISGUISED AS ANTEROS, FOLLOWED BY STORGE, AGLAIA, EUPHANTASTE, AND APHELEIA.

CUP. Clear pearl of heaven, and, not to be farther ambitious in t.i.tles, Cynthia! the fame of this ill.u.s.trious night, among others, hath also drawn these four fair virgins from the palace of their queen Perfection, (a word which makes no sufficient difference betwixt her's 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 wholly to consecrate themselves to thy celestial service, as in whose clear spirit (the proper element and sphere of virtue) they should behold not her alone, their ever-honoured mistress, but themselves (more truly themselves) to live enthronised. Herself would have commended them unto thy favour more particularly, but that she knows no commendation is more available with thee, than that of proper virtue. Nevertheless she willed 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, howsoever 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 then false pretexts, have chosen to express their several qualities thus in several 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 handmaid 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 one's 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 it is to move a kindly delight, and sometime not without laughter: her office to entertain a.s.semblies, and keep societies together with fair familiarity. Her device, within a ring of clouds, a heart with s.h.i.+ne about it; the word, 'curarum nubila pello': an allegory of Cynthia's light, which no less clears the sky then her fair mirth the heart.

The third, in the discoloured mantle spangled all over, is Euphantaste, a well-conceited Wittiness, and employed in honouring the court with the riches of her pure invention. Her device, upon a Petasus, or Mercurial hat, a crescent; 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 plaits, without colour, without counterfeit; and (to speak plainly) plainness itself. Her device is no device.

The word under her silver s.h.i.+eld, "omnis abest fucus"; alluding to thy spotless self, who art as far from impurity as from mortality.

Myself, celestial G.o.ddess, more fit for the court of Cynthia than the arbours of Cytherea, am called Anteros, or Love's 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 adversaries to Love, yet thee, perpetual virgin, they both love, and vow to love eternally.

RE-ENTER ARETE, WITH CRITES.

CYN. Not without wonder, nor without delight Mine eyes have view'd, in contemplation's depth, This work of wit, divine and excellent: What shape, what substance, or what unknown power, In virgin's habit, crown'd with laurel leaves, And olive-branches woven in between, On sea-girt rocks, like to a G.o.ddess s.h.i.+nes!

O front! O face! O all celestial, 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 itself) Contains as much as man in fulness may.

Lo, here the man; who not of usual earth, But of that n.o.bler and more precious mould Which Phoebus' self doth temper, is composed; And who, though all were wanting to reward, Yet to himself he would not wanting be: Thy favours gain is his ambition's most, And labour's 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 instiled, our Crites; Whom learning, virtue, and our favour last, Exempteth from the gloomy mult.i.tude.

With common eye the Supreme should not see: Henceforth be ours, the more thyself to be.

CRI. Heaven's purest light, whose orb may be eclipsed, 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 s.h.i.+ne thy fame; Thine honours ever, as thy beauties do.

In me they must, my dark world's chiefest lights, By whose propitious beams my powers are raised To hope some part of those most lofty points, Which blessed Arete hath pleased to name, As marks, to which my endeavour's steps should bend: Mine, as begun at thee, in thee must end.

THE SECOND MASQUE.

ENTER MERCURY AS A PAGE, INTRODUCING EUCOSMOS, EUPATHES, EUTOLMOS, AND EUCOLOS.

MER. Sister of Phoebus, 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 beloved 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 virtues, upon which the whole frame of the court doth move, so are these the four cardinal properties, without which the body of compliment moveth not. With these four silver javelins, (which they bear in their hands) they support in princes' courts the state of the presence, as by office they are obliged: which, though here they may seem superfluous, yet, for honour's sake, they thus presume to visit thee, having also been employed in the palace of queen Perfection. And though to them that would make themselves gracious to a G.o.ddess, sacrifices were fitter than presents, or impresses, yet they both hope thy favour, and (in place of either) use several symbols, containing the t.i.tles of thy imperial dignity.

First, the hithermost, in the changeable blue and green robe, is the commendably-fas.h.i.+oned gallant Eucosmos; whose courtly habit is the grace of the presence, and delight of the surveying eye; whom ladies understand by the names of Neat and Elegant. His symbol is, "divae virgini," in which he would express thy deity's princ.i.p.al glory, which hath ever been virginity.

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 superfluity, go richly in embroideries, jewels, and what not, without vanity, and fare delicately without gluttony; and therefore (not without cause) is universally thought to be of fine humour. His symbol is, "divae optimae"; an attribute to express thy goodness, in which thou so resemblest Jove thy father.

The third, in the blush-coloured suit, is Eutolmos, as duly respecting others, as never neglecting himself; commonly known by the t.i.tle of good Audacity; to courts and courtly a.s.semblies a guest most acceptable. His symbol is, "divae viragini"; to express thy hardy courage in chase of savage beasts, which harbour in woods and wildernesses.