Nose. Why if it be not that, let it be this then, (For since you grant us freedom, we will hold it) Let's have the giddy world turn'd the heels upward,

And sing a rare black Sanctus," on his head,
Of all things out of order.

Eyes. No, the man

In the moon dance a coranto, his bush
At's back a-fire; and his dog piping Lachrymæ.
Ears. Or let's have all the people in an uproar,
None knowing why, or to what end; and n
The midst of all, start up an old mad woman
Preaching of patience.

Nose. No, no, I'd have this.
Eyes. What?

Fame. Any thing.

Nose. That could be monstrous

Enough, I mean. A Babel of wild humours.
Ears. And all disputing of all things they know

not.

Eyes. And talking of all men they never heard of.

And sing a rare black Sanctus.] The black Sanctus was a profane parody of some hymn in the Mass book; and the tune to which it was set was probably loud and discordant, to assist the ridicule. As a satire on the monks, whom it lashes with some kind of coarse humour, it appears to have been very popular. It may be referred to the times of Hen. VIII. when to criminate the ancient possessors of the monasteries, was to render a most acceptable service to that hateful tyrant, and his rapacious court. Sir J. Harrington, who printed it entire, calls it the Monks Hymn to Saunte Satan." It occurs in Beaumont and Fletcher:

"Let's sing him a black Sanctus, then let's all howl
In our own beastly voices." Mad Lover.

And is also introduced by Phil. Holland in his translation of Livy: Nata in vanos tumultus gens, truci cantu, ciamoribusque variis, horrendo cuncta impleverunt sono. Lib. v. c. 37. "With an hideous and dissonant kind of singing like a black Sanctus, they filled all about with a fearful and horrible noise."

Ears. And all together by the ears o'the sudden. Eyes. And when the matter is at hottest, then All fall asleep.

Fame. Agree among yourselves,

And what it is you'd have, I'll answer you.
Eyes. O, that we shall never do.

Ears. No, never agree.

Nose. Not upon what? Something that is unlawful.

Ears. Ay, or unreasonable.

Eyes. Or, impossible.

Nose. Let it be uncivil enough, you hit us right. Ears. And a great noise.

Eyes. To little or no purpose,

Nose. And if there be some mischief, 'twill become it.

Eyes. But see there be no cause, as you will answer it.

Fame. These are mere monsters.

Nose. Ay, all the better.

Fame. You do abuse the time. These are fit freedoms

For lawless prentices, on a Shrove-tuesday,
When they compel the Time to serve their riot;
For drunken wakes, and strutting bear-baitings,
That savour only of their own abuses.

Eyes. Why, if not those, then something to make sport.

Ears. We only hunt for novelty, not truth. Fame. I'll fit you, though the Time faintly permit it.

The second ANTIMASQUE of TUMBLERS, and JUGLERS, brought in by the CAT AND FIDDLE, who make sport with the CURIOUS, and drive them away. Fame. Why now they are kindly used like such spectators,

That know not what they would have. Commonly
The Curious are ill natured, and, like flies,
Seek Time's corrupted parts to blow upon:
But may the sound ones live with fame, and ho-

nour,

Free from the molestation of these insects, Who being fled, Fame now pursues her errand.

Loud Music.

To which the whole Scene opens; where SATURN sitting with VENUS is discovered above, and certain VoTARIES coming forth below, which are the CHORUS.

Fame. For you, great king, to whom the Time doth owe

All his respects and reverence, behold
How Saturn, urged at request of Love,
Prepares the object to the place to-night.
Within yond' darkness, Venus hath found out
That Hecate, as she is queen of shades,
Keeps certain glories of the time obscured,
There for herself alone to gaze upon,
As she did once the fair Endymion.

These, Time hath promised at Love's suit to free,
As being fitter to adorn the Age,

By you restored on earth, most like his own;
And fill this world of beauty here, your court:
To which his bounty, see, how men prepare
To fit their votes below, and thronging come
With longing passion to enjoy the effect!
Hark! it is Love begins to Time. Expect.

Ven. Beside, that it is done for Love,

It is a work, great Time, will prove
Thy honour, as men's hopes above.

[Music.

Sat.

Vot.

Sat.

If Love be pleased, so am I,
For Time could never yet deny

What Love did ask, if Love knew why.
She knew, and hath exprest it now :
And so doth every public vow

That heard her why, and waits thy how.
You shall not long expect; with ease
The things come forth, are born to please:
Look, have you seen such lights as these?

The MASQUERS are discovered, and that which obscured them vanisheth.

1 Vot. These, these must sure some wonders be!

Cho. O, what a glory 'tis to see

Men's wishes, Time, and Love agree.

[A pause.

SATURN and VENUS pass away, and the MASQUERS descend.

Cho. What grief, or envy had it been,

1 Vot.

That these, and such had not been seen,

But still obscured in shade!

Who are the glories of the Time,
Of youth, and feature too, the prime,
And for the light were made.

Their very number, how it takes!
2 Vot. What harmony their presence makes!
1 Vot. How they inflame the place!

Cho.

Now they are nearer seen, and view'd,
For whom could love have better sued,
Or Time have done the grace?

Here to a loud Music, they march into their figure, and dance their ENTRY, or first DANCE.

Ven.

Sat.

Vot.

Sat. Vot.

After which.

The night could not these glories miss,
Good Time, I hope, is ta'en with this.
If Time were not, I'm sure Love is.
Between us it shall be no strife:
For now 'tis Love gives Time his life.
Let Time then so with Love conspire,
As straight be sent into the court,
A little Cupid, arm'd with fire,
Attended by a jocund Sport,
To breed delight, and a desire

Of being delighted, in the nobler sort.
The wish is crown'd, as soon as made.
And Cupid conquers, ere he doth invade.

His victories of lightest trouble prove;
For there is never labour where is Love.

Then follows the MAIN DANCE;

Which done, CUPID with the SPORT, comes for

ward.

Cup. [to the Masquers.]

Take breath a while, young bloods, to bring
Your forces up, whilst we go sing

Fresh charges to the beauties here.

Sport. Or, if they charge you, do not fear,
Though they be better arm'd than you;
It is but standing the first view,
And then they yield.

Cup.

Or quit the field.

Sport. Nay, that they'll never do.