PAN'S ANNIVERSARY; OR, THE SHEPHERD'S HOLIDAY: AS IT WAS PRESENTED AT COURT, BEFORE KING JAMES, 1025. The SCENE, The Inventors - Inigo Jones; Ben Jonson. ARCADIA. The Court being seated, enter three NYMPHIS, strewing several sorts of flowers, followed by an old SHEPHERD, with a censer and perfumes. I Nym. Thus, thus begin the yearly rites Are due to Pan on these bright nights; 2 Nym. Strew, strew the glad and smiling ground With every flower, yet not confound spouse, Bright day's eyes, and the lips of cows, The garden star, the queen of May, The rose, to crown the holyday. 3 Nym. Drop, drop your violets, change your hues, Now red, now pale, as lovers use, That from your odor all may say, Shep. Well done, my pretty ones, rain roses still, Until the last be dropt: then hence; and fill Your fragrant prickles for a second shower. Bring corn-flag, tulips, and Adonis' flower, Fair ox-cye, goldly-locks, and columbine, The breath thereof Panchaia may envy, The Scene opens, and the MASQUERS are discovered sitting about the Fountain of Light, with the Musicians, attired like the Priests of Pan, standing in the work beneath them. Enter a Fencer, flourishing. Fen. Room for an old trophy of time; a son of the sword, a servant of Mars, the minion of the muses, and a master of fence! One that hath shown his quarters, and played his prizes at all the games of Greece in his time; as fencing, wrestling, leaping, dancing, what not? and hath now usher'd hither, by the light of my long sword, certain bold boys of Boeotia, who are come to challenge the Arcadians at their own sports, call them forth on their own holyday, and dance them down on their own green swarth. Shep. 'Tis boldly attempted, and must be a Baotian enterprise, by the face of it, from all the parts of Greece else, especially at this time, when the best, and bravest spirits of Arcadia, called together by the excellent Arcas, are yonder sitting about the Fountain of Light, in consultation of what honors they may do to the great Pan, by increase of anniversary rites, fitted to the music of his peace. Fen. Peace to thy Pan, and mum to thy music, swain; there is a tinker of Thebes a coming, called Epam, with his kettle, will make all Ar Pinks, goulands, king-cups, and sweet sops-in-cadia ring of him. What are your sports for the purpose? say, if singing, you shall be sung down; if dancing, danced down. There is no more to be done with you, but know what; which it is; and you are in smoke, gone, vapored, vanished, blown, and, as a man would say, in a word of two syllables, nothing. Shep. This is short, though not so sweet. Surely the better part of the solemnity here will be dancing. Fen. Enough: they shall be met with instantly in their own sphere, the sphere of their own activity, a dance. But by whom, expect: no Cynætheian, nor Satyrs; but, as I said, boys of Boeotia, things of Thebes, (the town is ours, shepherd) mad merry Greeks, lads of life, that have no gall in us, but all air and sweetness. A toothdrawer is our foreman, that if there be but a bitter tooth in the company, it may be called out at a twitch: he doth command any man's teeth out of his head upon the point of his poignard; or tickles them forth with his riding rod: he draws teeth a horseback in full speed, yet he will dance a foot, he hath given his word: he is yeoman of the mouth to the whole brotherhood, and is charged to see their gums be clean, and their breath sweet, at a minute's warning. Then comes my learned Theban the tinker, I told you of, with his kettle drum, before and after, a master of music, and a man of metal, he beats the march to the tune of Ticklefoot, Pam, Pam, Pam, brave Epam with a Nondas. That's the strain. Shep. A high one! The BœOTIANS enter for the ANTIMASQUE, which Fen. How like you this, shepherd was not this gear gotten on a holyday? Shep. Faith, your folly may deserve pardon, because it hath delighted: but beware of presuming, or how you offer comparison with persons so near deities: Behold where they are that have now forgiven you, whom should you provoke again with the like, they will justly punish that with anger, which they now dismiss with contempt. Away! [They retire. To the Masquers. And come, you prime Arcadians forth, that By Pan the rites of true society, Fen. Which is followed by the trace, and Your innocence from that fair fount of light Of any rudeness, folly can, or spite: Shep. A most politic provision! Fen. Nay, we have made our provisions beyond example, I hope. For to these, there is annexed a clock-keeper, a grave person, as Time himself, who is to see that they all keep time to a nick, and move every elbow in order, every knee in compass. He is to wind them up, and draw them down, as he sees cause: then is there a subtle shrewd bearded sir, that hath been a politician, but is now a maker of mouse-traps, a great inginer yet: and he is to catch the ladies favors in the dance, with certain cringes he is to make; and to bate their benevolence. Nor can we doubt of the success, for we have a prophet amongst us of that peremptory pate, a tailor or master-fashioner, that hath found it out in a painted cloth, or some old hanging, (for those are his library,) that we must conquer in such a time, and such a half time; therefore bids us go on cross-legg'd, or however thread the needles of our own happiness, go through stitch with all, unwind the clew of our cares; he hath taken measure of our minds, and will fit our fortune to our footing. And to better assure us, at his own charge, brings his philosopher with him, a great clerk, who, they say, can write, and it is shrewdly suspected but he can read too. And he is to take the whole dances from the foot by brachygraphy, and so make a memorial, if not a map of the business. Come orth, lads, and do your own turns. Cho. Cho. Cho Cho. HYMN I. That taught us swains how first to tune our lays, That drives the heart to seek unused ways, That keeps our flocks and us, and both leads forth, Hear, O you groves, and hills resound his worth HYMN II. Pan is our All, by him we breathe, we live, We move, we are; 'tis he our lambs doth rear, But if he frown, the sheep, alas! Cho. Strive, strive to please him then, by still increasing The rites are due to him, who doth all right for us After which re-enter the Fencer. Fen. Room, room, there; where are you, shepherd? I am come again, with my second part of my bold bloods, the brave gamesters; who assure you by me, that they perceive no such wonder in all is done here, but that they dare adventure another trial. They look for some sheepish devices here in Arcadia, not these, and therefore a hall! a hall! they demand. Shep. Nay, then they are past pity, let them come, and not expect the anger of a deity to pursue them, but meet them. They have their punishment with their fact: they shall be sheep. Fen. O spare me, by the law of nations, I am but their ambassador. Shep. You speak in time, sir. The THEBANS enter for the 2 ANTIMASQUE, which danced. Shep. Now let them return with their solid heads, and carry their stupidity into Baotia, whence they brought it, with an emblem of themselves, and their country. This is too purs an air for so gross brains. [They retire. To the Nymphs. End you the rites, and so be eas'd HYMN IV. Great Pan, the father of our peace and pleasure, Hear what thy hallow'd troop of herdsmen pray, And how their vows to thee they in Lycæum pay Cho. So may our ewes receive the mounting rams, And we bring thee the earliest of our lambs; So may the first of all our fells be thine, And both the beestning of our goats and kine; As thou our folds dost still secure, And keep'st our fountains sweet and pure; And though to-day you've liv'd at large THUS IT ENDED THE MASQUE OF OWLS, AT KENELWORTH; Presented by the Ghost of Captain Cox, mounted on his Hobby-horse, 1626, Enter Captain Cox, on his Hobby-horse. If he come within so many yards of a prince He is the Pegasus that uses For to tell you true, and in rhyme, He was foal'd in queen Elizabeth's time, In this castle did feast her. Now, I am not so stupid To think, you think me a Cupid, Though these cocks here would fit him: And being a little man; As he would have been o' the queen. Was call'd for the second day. (And he performs it now) That were he alive or dead, But captain Cox would serve on horse If any prince came hither, And his horse should have a feather; Nay such a prince it might be Now, sir, in your approach, In times heretofore, But now, we have got a little more. With a most loyal intent, And, as the author saith, No ill meaning to the catholic faith, And natural, so thrive I, I found them in the ivy, A thing, that though I blunder'd at, Now, these owls, some say, were mer And they may be so again, If once they endure the light Of the prince's favor; But as you like their tricks, I'll spring them, they are but six. HEY, OWL FIRST! This bird is London-bred, As you may see by his horn'd head. HEY, OWL SECOND! A true owl of London, That gives out he is undone, Being a cheesemonger, By trusting two of the younger Captains, for the hunger Of their half-starv'd number; Of their dealing with his Madge. HEY, OWL THIRD! A pure native bird This, and though his hue By the thread he has spun; Of may-games and morris, For which he right sorry is; Where their maids and their makes, Had their napkins and posies, And having neither wit nor lands, HEY, OWL FOURTH ! A full fortnight was not spent, Takes away the use of his mace, And left him in a worse than his first case. HEY, OWL FIFTH! But here was a defeat, Never any so great, Of a Don, a Spanish reader, Who had thought to have been the leader, Had the match gone on, Of our ladies one by one, And triumph'd our whole nation, In his rodomant fashion : But now since the breach, He has not a scholar to teach. HEY, OWL SIXTH ! The bird bringer-up is a knight, Who, since the act against swearing, THE THIRD OWL VARIED. A crop-ear'd scrivener, this, Who when he heard but the whisper of monies to come down, Fright got him out of town With all the bills and bands Of other men's in his hands, And cried, who will, drive the trade, Since such a law they had made: It was not he that broke, Two i' the hundred spoke. Nor car'd he for the curse, He could not hear much worse, He had his ears in his purse. |