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Oberon, the Fairy Prince.

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                Masques. 359


O B E R O N,

T H E

F A I R Y   P R I N C E.

A

M A S Q U E

O F

P R I N C E   H E N R Y' S.


T

H E  first face of the Scene appeared all obscure,
 and nothing perceived but a dark Rock, with Trees
 beyond it; and all wildness, that could be presented:
 Till, at one corner of the Cliff, above the
Horizon,
the
Moon began to shew, and rising, a Satyr was seen (by her
light) to put forth his head, and call.


S A T Y R  1.

(a)
C
Hromis, (b) Mnasyl? None appear?
   See you not, who riseth here?
              (c) You saw Silenus, late, I fear!
              I'le prove, if this can reach your Ear.      

(a b) They
are the
names of
two
young Sa-
tyrs,
I find in Vir. Eclog. 6. that took Silenus sleeping; who is fain'd to
be the Pædagoge of Bacchus: As the Satyrs are his Collusores, or
Play-fellows. So doth Diodor. Siculus, Synesius, Julian. in Cæsarib.
report them. (c) A proverbial Speech, when they will tax one the
other of drinking, or sleepiness; alluding to that former place, in
Virgil. Chromis & Mnasylus in antro Silenum, pueri, somno videre jacen-
tem, Inflatum hesterno venas, ut semper, Iaccho.


   He wound his Cornet, and thought himself answer'd; but was
deceived by the Eccho.


O, you wake then: Come away,
(d) Times be short, are made for play;
The hum'rous Moon too will not stay:                     
What doth make you thus delay?
Hath his Tankard toucht your brain?
Sure, they're faln asleep again:
Or I doubt it was the vain
Eccho, did me entertain.




(d) Silenus
is every-
where
made a
lover of
wine, as in
Cyclops Eurip. and known by that notable ensign, his Tankard: out of
the same place of Virg. Et gravis attrita pendebat cantharus ansa.
As also out of that famous piece of Sculpture, in a little gem or
piece of Jasper, observ'd by Monsieur Causabon, in his Tract de Saty-
rica Poësi,
from Rascasius Bagarrius: wherein is described the whole
manner of the Scene, and Chori, of Bacchus, with Silenus, and the Sa-
tyrs.
An elegant and curious Antiquity, both for the subtilty and la-
bour: where, in so small a compass, (to use his words) there is Re-
rum, Personarum, Actionum plane stupenda varietas.


[column break]

[He wound the
second time, and
found it.
]
Prove again. I thought 'twas she.
    Idle Nymph, I pray thee, be
    Modest, and not follow me.
(e)I nor love my self, nor thee.



(e) Re-
specting
that known Fable of Eccho's following Narcissus; and his Self-Love.


   Here he wound the third time, and was answer'd by another
Satyr, who likewise shewed himself. To which he spoke.

I, this Sound I better know:
    List! I would I could here mo.

   At this they came running forth severally, from divers parts
of the Rock, leaping, and making antick actions, and gestures, to
the number of ten; some of them speaking, some admiring: And
amongst them a
Silene, who is ever the Præfect of the Satyrs,
and so presented in all their
Chori, and meetings.

S A T Y R  2.

Thank us, and you shall do so.

S A T Y R  3.

I, our Number soon will grow.

S A T Y R  2.

See (d) Silenus!               









(d) In the
pomps of
Dionysius, or Bacchus, to every company of Satyrs, there was still given
a Silene, for their Overseer, or Governor. And in that which is de-
scrib'd by Athenæus, in his fifth Book, Bini Sileni non semel comme-
morantur, qui totidem plurium
Satyrorum gregibus præsint. Erant
enim eorum Epistatæ, Præsules, & Coryphæi, propter grandem ætatem.

He was also purpureo pallio vestitus, cum albis soleis, & petasatus, aureum
caduceum parvum ferens. Vid. Athenæ. Dipnos. lib.
6. de pompâ Ptolo-
mæeiâ.


S A T Y R  3.                  

C E R C O P S, too!                  

S A T Y R   




360 Masques.                    


S A T Y R  4.

    Yes. What is there now to do?

S A T Y R  5.

    Are there any Nymphs to woo?

S A T Y R  4.

(a)If there be, let me have two.
                     









(a) The
nature of
the Satyrs the wise Horace express'd well, in the word, when he cal-
led them Risores & Dicaces, as the Greek Poets, Nonnus, &c. stile them
filokertomouV. Nec solum dicaces, sed & proni in Venerem, & salta-
tores assidui & credebantur, & fingebantur.
   Unde
Satyrica saltatio, quæ sikinniV dicebatur, & à quâ Satyri
ipsi sikinnistai. Vel à Sicino inventore vel apo thV kinhsewV, id est,
à motu saltationis Satyrorum, qui est concitatissimus.


S I L E N U S.

(b) Chaster language. These are Nights
    Solemn, to the shining Rites
    Of the Fairy Prince, and Knights:
    While the Moon their Orgies lights.
              


(b) But in
the Sile-
nes,
was
nothing
of this
petulance, and lightness, but on the contrary, all gravity, and pro-
found knowledge, of most secret mysteries. Insomuch as the most
learned of Poets, Virgil, when he would write a Poem of the begin-
nings, and hidden nature of things, with other great Antiquities, at-
tributed the parts of disputing them, to Silenus, rather than any
other. Which whosoever thinks to be easily, or by chance done by
the most prudent Writer, will easily betray his own ignorance, or fol-
ly. To this see the testimonies of Plato, Synesius, Herodotus, Strabo,
Philostratus, Tertullian,
&c.


S A T Y R  2.

Will they come abroad, anon?

S A T Y R  3.

Shall we see young OBERON?

S A T Y R  4.

Is he such a princely one,
    As you speak him long agone?

S I L E N U S.

Satyrs, he doth fill with grace,
    Every season, ev'ry place;
    Beauty dwells, but in his Face:
(c)H'is the height of all our Race.
Our Pan's Father, (d) god of tongue,
    Bacchus, though he still be young,
    Phœbus, (e) when he crowned sung,
    Nor Mars, (f) when first his armor rung,
Might with him be nam'd, that day.
    He is lovelier, than in May
    Is the Spring, and there can stay
    As little, as he can decay.
         


















(c) Among
the An-
cients, the
kind, both
of the
Centaures,
and Sa-
tyrs,
is con-
founded;
and com-
mon with
either. As sometimes the Satyrs are said to come of the Centaures,
and again the Centaures of them. Either of them are difueV, but af-
ter a diverse manner. And Galen observes out of Hippocrates, Com-
ment.
3. in 6. Epidemior: that both the Athenians and Ionians, called
the Satyrs fhraV, or fhreaV; which name the Centaures have with
Homer: from whence, it were no unlikely Conjectures, to think our
word Faëries to come. Viderint Critici. (d) Mercury, who for the
love of Penelope, while she was keeping her Father Icarius Herds on
the Mountain Taygetan, turn'd himself into a fair Buck-Goat; with
whose Sports and Flatteries, the Nymph being taken, he begat, on
her, Pan: who was born, Capite cornuto, barbaque, ac pedibus hircinis.
As Homer hath it, in Hymnis: and Lucian, in dialogo Panis & Mercu-
rii.
He was call'd the Giver of Grace, caridoths, faidroV, kai leukoV.
Hilaris, & albus, nitens Cyllenius alis.
As Bacchus was call'd anqioV,
floridus:
and Hebe, à lanugine & molli ætate, semper virens. (e) Apol-
lo
is said, after Jupiter had put Saturn to flight, to have sung his Fa-
ther's Victory to the Harp, Purpurea toga decorus, & lauro coronatus,
mirificeque deos omnes qui accubuerant, in convivio delectavisse.
Which
Tibullus, in lib. 2. Elegiar. points to. Sed nitidus, pulcherque veni. Nunc
indue vestem Purpuream, longas nunc bene necte comas. Qualem te me-
morant Saturno rege fugato Victoris laudes tunc cecinisse Jovis.
(f) He
was then lovely, as being not yet stain'd with blood, and called crus-
phlex ArhV
, quasi aureum flagellum (vel rectius) auream galeam ha-
bens.


[column break]

         
C H O R U S.

O, that he would come away!

S A T Y R  3.

(g)Grandsire, we shall leave to play
    With (h) Lyæus now; and serve
    Only OB'RON.
              






(g) In Ju-
lius Pollux,
lib.
4. cap.
19. in that
Part, which he entitles, de Satyricis personis, we read, that Silenus is
called pappoV, that is, avus, to note his great age: as amongst the
comick persons, the reverenced for their years, were called pappoi:
and with Julian, in Cæs. Bacchus, when he speaks him fair, calls him
pappidion. (h) A name of Bacchus, Lyæus, of freeing mens minds
from cares: para to luw, solvo.


S I L E N U S.

                     He'le deserve
All you can, and more, my Boys.

S A T Y R  4.

Will he give us pretty Toys,
To beguile the Girls withall?

S A T Y R  3.

And to make 'em quickly fall?

S I L E N U S.

Peace my Wantons: he will do
More than you can aim unto.

S A T Y R  4.

Will he build us larger Caves?

S I L E N U S.

Yes, and give you Ivory Staves,
When you hunt; and better Wine:

S A T Y R  1.

Than the Master of the Vine?

S A T Y R  2.

And rich Prizes, to be wun,
When we leap, or when we run?

S A T Y R  1.

I, and gild our cloven Feet?

S A T Y R  3.

Strew our heads with powders sweet?

S A T Y R  1.

Bind our crooked legs in hoops
Made of shells, with silver loops?

S A T Y R  2.

Tie about our tawny wrists
Bracelets of the Fairy twists?

S A T Y R  4.

And, to spight the coy Nymphs Scorns,
Hang upon our stubbed Horns,
Garlands, Ribons, and fine Poesies;

S A T Y R  3.

Fresh, as when the Flower discloses?

S A T Y R  1.

Yes, and stick our pricking Ears
With the Pearl that Tethys wears.


S A T Y R                         




                Masques. 361


S A T Y R  2.                            

And to answer all things els,
Trap our shaggy thighs with bells;
That as we do strike a time,
In our Dance, shall make a chime

S A T Y R  3.                            

Louder, than the ratling Pipes
Of the wood-gods;

S A T Y R  1.                            

                          Or the stripes
Of (a) the Taber; when we carry
Bacchus up, his pomp to vary.

C H O R U S.                            

O, that he so long doth tarry!

S I L E N U S.                         

See the Rock begins to ope,
Now you shall enjoy your hope;
'Tis about the hour, I know.

   There the whole Scene opened, and within was
discover'd the
Frontispiece, of a bright and glorious
Palace, whose gates and walls were transparent. Be-
fore the gates lay two
Sylvanes, armed with their
Clubs, and drest in leafs, asleep. At this the
Satyrs
wondering,
Silenus proceeds.

Look! Do's not his Palace show
Like another Sky of lights?
Yonder, with him, live the Knights,
Once, the noblest of the Earth,
Quickned by a second Birth;
Who, for prowess, and for truth,
There are crown'd with lasting youth:
And do hold, by Fate's Command,
Seats of Bliss in Fairy Land.
But, their Guards (methinks) do sleep!
Let us wake 'em. Sirs, you keep
Proper Watch, that thus do lie
Drown'd in Sloth.

S A T Y R  1.                            

                     They'ha'ne're an Eye
To wake withall.

S A T Y R  2.                            

                     Nor Sence, I fear;
For they sleep in either Ear.

S A T Y R  3.                            

Holla, Sylvanes! Sure they'r Caves
Of Sleep, those, or else they'r Graves!

S A T Y R  4.                            

Hear you, Friends, who keeps the Keepers?

S A T Y R  1.                            

They'r the eighteighth and ninth Sleepers!

S A T Y R  2.                            

Shall we cramp 'em?

S I L E N U S.                            

                           S A T Y R S, no.

S A T Y R  3.                            

Would we had Boreas here, to blow
Off their heavy Coats, and strip em.















(a) Erat
solemne
Baccho in
pompa te-
nerorum
more pue-
rorum ge-
stari à Si-
leno, & Sa-
tyris, Bac-
chis præce-
dentibus,
quarum
una sem-
per erat
Tympa-
nistria, al-
tera Tibi-
cina,
&c.
vide Athe-
anæ.



















































[column break]

S A T Y R  4.                                              

I, I, I; that we might whip 'em.

S A T Y R  3.                                              

Or, that w'ad a Wasp, or two
For their Nostrils.

S A T Y R  1.                                              

                         Hayres will do
Even as well: Take my Tail.

S A T Y R  2.                                              

What d'you say t'a good Nail
Through their Temples?

S A T Y R  3.                                              

                         Or an Eel,
In their guts, to make 'em feel?

S A T Y R  4.                                              

Shall we steal away their Beards?

S A T Y R  3.                                              

For Pan's Goat, that leads the Herds?

S A T Y R  2.                                              

Or try, whether is more dead,
His Club, or th'other's Head.

S I L E N U S.                                              

Wags, no more: you grow too bold.

S A T Y R  1.                                              

I would fain, now, see 'em roul'd
Down a Hill, or from a Bridge
Headlong cast, to break their Ridge-
Bones: or to some River take 'em;
Plump: and see, if that would wake 'em.

S A T Y R  2.                                              

There no motion, yet, appears.

S I L E N U S.                                              

Strike a Charm into their Ears.

   At which the Satyrs fell suddenly into this Catch:

Buz, quoth the blue Flie,
   Hum, quoth the Bee:
Buz, and hum, they cry,
   And so do we.
In his Ear, in his Nose,
   Thus, do you see?
He eat the Dormouse;
   Else it was he.
                                          

   The two Sylvanes starting up amazed, and be-
taking themselves to their Arms, were thus question'd
by
S I L E N U S.

How now, Sylvanes! can you wake?
I commend the Care you take
I'your Watch. Is this your guise
To have both your Ears, and Eyes
Seal'd so fast; as these mine Elves
Might have stol'n you, from your selves?

S A T Y R  3.                                              

We had thought we must have got
Stakes, and heated 'em red-hot,
A a a                                   And          




362 Masques.                    


And have bor'd you, through the Eyes
(With the * Cyclops) e're you'ld rise.
                           

* Vid. Cyc.
Euripid.
ubi Satyri Ulyssi auxilio sint ad amburendum oculum Cyclopis.


S A T Y R  2.

Or have fetch'd some Trees, to heave
Up your Bulks, that so did cleave
To the ground, there.

S A T Y R  4.

               Are you free
Yet of sleep, and can you see
Who is yonder up, aloof?

S A T Y R  1.

Be your Eyes, yet, Moon-proof?

S Y L V A N E.

Satyrs, leave your petulance;
And go frisk about, and dance;
Or else rail upon the Moon:
Your Expectance is too soon.
For before the second Cock
Crow, the Gates will not unlock.
And, till then, we know we keep
Guard enough, although we sleep.

S A T Y R  1.

Say you so? then let us fall
To a Song, or to 'a' omitted brawl:
Shall we, grand sire? Let us sport,
And make Expectation short.

S I L E N U S.

Do my Wantons, what you please.
I'le lie down, and take mine ease.

S A T Y R  1.

Brothers, sing then, and upbraid
(As we use) yond' seeming Maid.
                           











































S O N G.                           

N
OW, my cunning Lady; Moon,
 Can you leave the side, so soon,
   Of the Boy, you keep so hid?
Midwife Juno sure will say,
This is not the proper way
   Of your paleness to be rid.
But, perhaps, it is your grace
To wear sickness i'your Face,
   That there might be Wagers laid
   Still, by Fools, you are a Maid.
Come, your Changes overthrow,
What your look would carry so;
Moon, confess then, what you are,
And be wise, and free to use
Pleasures, that you now do lose;
   Let us Satyrs have a share.
Though our Forms be rough and rude,
Yet our Acts may be endu'd
   With more vertue: Every one
   Cannot be E N D Y M I O N.
            























   The Song ended: they fell suddenly into an antick Dance, full
of gesture, and swift motion, and continued it, till the crowing
of the Cock: At which they were interrupted by
Silenus.

S I L E N U S.

S
Tay, the chearful Chanticleere
 Tells you, that the time is near:
See, the gates already spread!
Every Satyr bow his head.
                               







[column break]

   There the whole Palace open'd, and the Nation of Faies were
discover'd, some with Instruments, some bearing Lights; others
singing; and within afar off in perspective, the Knights Mas-
quers sitting in their several Sieges: At the further end of all,

OBERON, in a Chariot, which to a loud triumphant Musick
began to move forward, drawn by two white Bears, and on ei-
ther side guarded by three
Sylvanes, with one going in front.

        
S O N G.                                     

M
Elt Earth to Sea, Sea flow to Air,
   And Air flie into Fire,
Whil'st we in Tunes, to Arthur's Chair
   Bear Oberon's desire;
   Than which there nothing can be higher,
Save JAMES, to whom it flies:
But he the wonder is of Tongues, of Ears, of Eyes.
Who hath not heard, who hath not seen,
   Who hath not sung his Name?
The Soul, that hath not, hath not been;
   But is the very same
   With buried Sloth, and knows not Fame,
Which doth him best comprise:
For he the wonder is of Tongues, of Ears, of Eyes.

   By this time, the Chariot was come as far forth as the face of
the
Scene. And the Satyrs beginning to leap, and express their
joy, for the unused State, and Solemnity, the foremost
Sylvane
began to speak.


S I L V A N I.                               

G
Ive place, and silence; you were rude too late:
 This is a Night of Greatness, and of State;
Not to be mixt with light, and skipping sport:
A Night of Homage to the British Court,
And Ceremony due to Arthur's Chair,
From our bright Master, OBERON the Fair:
Who, with these Knights, Attendants, here preserv'd
In Faery Land, for good they have deserv'd
Of yond' high Throne, are come of right to pay
Their annual Vows; and all their Glories lay
At Feet, and tender to this only great,
True Majesty, restored in this Seat:
To whose sole Power, and Magick they do give
The honour of their being; that they live
Sustain'd in Form, Fame, and Felicity,
From rage of Fortune, or the fear to dye.

S I L E N U S.                                            

A
N D may they well. For this indeed is he,
 My Boys, whom you must quake at, when you see.
He is above your reach; and neither doth,
Nor can he think, within a Satyrs tooth:
Before his presence, you must fall, or flie.
He is the matter of Vertue, and plac'd high.
His Meditations, to his height, are even:
And all their Issue is akin to Heaven.
He is a god, o're Kings; yet stoops he then
Nearest a Man, when he doth govern Men;
To teach them by the sweetness of his sway,
And not by force. He's such a King, as they,
Who're tyrannes Subjects, or ne're tasted peace,
Would, in their wishes, form, for their release.
'Tis he, that stays the time from turning old,
And keeps the Age up in a head of Gold.
That in his own true Circle, still doth run;
And holds his course, as certain as the Sun.
He makes it ever Day, and ever Spring,
Where he doth shine, and quickens every thing
Like a new Nature: so, that true to call
Him, by his Title, is to say, He's all.
S Y L-              




                Masques. 363


S Y L V A N E.

I
 Thank the wise Silenus, for his praise.
 Stand forth bright Faies, and Elves, and tune your lays
Unto his Name: Then let your nimble Feet
Tread subtil Circles, that may always meet
In point to him; and Figures, to express
The grace of him, and his great Emperess.
That All, that shall to Night behold the Rites,
Perform'd by Princely Oberon, and these Knights,
May, without stop, point out the proper hairvariant spelling of 'heir'
Design'd so long to Arthur's Crowns, and Chair.

The S O N G, by two Faies.

    1. 
S
Eek you Majesty, to strike?
   Bid the World produce his like.
2.Seek you glory, to amaze?
   Here, let all Eyes stand at gaze.
    1. 
2.
{ Seek you Wisdom, to inspire?
    Touch, then, at no other's Fire.
     1. Seek you knowledge, to direct?
     Trust to his without suspect.
2.Seek you Piety, to lead?
     In his Footsteps, only, tread.
Cho. {  Every Virtue of a King,
    And of all, in him, we sing.
                              

Then, the lesser Faies dance forth their Dance; which ended, a
   full Song follows, by all the Voices.


S O N G.                                                          

   
T
H E solemn Rites are well begun;
   And, though but lighted by the Moon,
They shew as rich, as if the Sun
   Had made this Night his Noon.
But may none wonder, that they are so bright,
The Moon now borrows from a greater light
           Than, Princely OBERON,
           Go on,
   This is not every Night.

There O B E R O N, and the Knights dance out the first Masque
   Dance: which was follow'd with this Song.


S O N G.                                                      

      
N
A Y, nay,
You must not stay,
Nor be weary, yet;
This's no time to cast away;
Or for Faies so to forget
The vertue of their Feet.
Knotty Legs, and Plants of Clay
Seek for Ease, or love Delay.
But with you it still should fare
As with the Air of which you are.

[column break]

After which, they danced forth their second Masque-Dance, and
   were again excited by a Song.


S O N G.                                          

       1  
N
O R yet, nor yet, O you in this Night blest,
   Must you have Will, or Hope to rest?
2   If you use the smallest stay,
        You'll be overtain by day.
1 And these Beauties will suspect
That their Forms you do neglect,
    If you do not call them forth:
2  Or that you have no more worth
    Than the coarse, and country Fairy,
       That doth haunt the Hearth, or Dairy.

Then follow'd the Measures, Coranto's, Galliards, &c. till Phos-
   phorus, the Day-star appear'd, and call'd them away; but
   first they were invited home, by one of the
Sylvanes, with this
   Song.


      
S O N G.

G
Entle Knights,
 Know some measure of your Nights.
Tell the high-grac'd OBERON,
It is time, that we were gone.
   Here be Forms, so bright, and airy,
       And their motions so they vary
   As they will enchant the Fairy,
       If you longer, here, should tarry.

   
P H O S P H O R U S.                  

T
O rest, to rest; The Herald of the day,
Bright Phosphorus commands you hence; Obey.
The Moon is pale, and spent; and winged Night
Makes head-long haste, to fly the Morning's sight:
Who, now, is rising from her blushing Wars,
And with her rosie hand, puts back the Stars.
Of which my self, the last, her Harbinger,
But stay to warn you, that you not defer
Your parting longer. Then, do I give way,
As Night hath done, and so must you, to day.

After this, they danc'd their last Dance, into the Work. And
   with a full Song, strait vanish'd, and the whole Machine
   clos'd.


      
S O N G.                                  

O
 Yet, how early, and before her time
The envious Morning up doth clime,
Though she not love her Bed!
What haste the jealous Sun doth make,
His fiery Horses up to take,
   And once more shew his head!
Lest, taken with the brightness of this Night,
The World should wish it last, and never miss his light.






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