Homo Scriblerus - By Frank Kermode

Marginalia: Readers Writing in Books
by H.J. Jackson
(Yale University Press, 324 pp., $27.95)

A certain Cambridge classics teacher named Walter Whiter suddenly became fairly famous when a peculiar book of his, A Specimen of a Commentary on Shakespeare, originally published and scorned in 1794, was rediscovered and for a while admired in the twentieth century. The brief vogue of the Specimen prompted some research into its author, so we know that Whiter was for some years the close friend of Richard Porson, the great Greek scholar. Porson would go into Whiter’s rooms, open a book, find a pen, and write notes in the margin. There is no indication that Whiter minded his doing so; presumably he thought that the comments of so great a scholar enhanced the value of the book that he defaced.

This is not the way we feel about the anonymous scribblers who, in defiance of repeated injunctions and severe but unenforceable penalties, insert their observations in the margins of library books. I once found, in a university library, a copy of Wordsworth’s Prelude in which the editor, in a rare flight of fancy, remarked in his preface that he detected “celestial ichor” running through the poem’s veins. A reader had corrected this (in ink) to read “celestial choir,” a conjecture lacking the plausibility of those by Porson—not an enhancement, but a defacement.

I happened on the Whiter anecdote at the moment when H.J. Jackson’s book arrived on my desk. She is a distinguished student and editor of Coleridge, who not only wrote thousands of marginalia but actually gave the word currency. But Coleridge’s marginalia are a special case: he cultivated the genre as a professional. Jackson fell to thinking about the subject more generally, and then to exploring it with remarkable persistence. The practice of such annotation has a long history. The purpose of the present book is to describe that history, to classify and to exemplify different types of marginalia, and to urge librarians, bibliographers, booksellers and general readers to take a keener interest in them.

Obviously there are a great many marginalia that are of no interest at all, and may be a source of annoyance—such as the library book that I have just mentioned, or those that we nowadays find everywhere, ruthlessly highlighted by students and perhaps bearing a few words of commendation or disagreement, or a few vengeful insults directed at teachers. Sometimes there may be only an amazed exclamation mark (perhaps a series of them), or a skeptical query, or a vertical line beside a paragraph. But at the other end of the scale are the likes of Walpole inscribing his privileged information in the margins, or Gibbon marking up Herodotus, or Keats glossing Milton.

Even those instances of the great commenting on the great are not always unproblematic. Are the comments really that interesting, or do we find them so simply because they are made by famous hands? Jackson has examined a huge collection of marginalia, by unknown readers as well as celebrities, and can find reasons for thinking much of it worth the trouble. In the course of explaining how the practice caught on, and how its aims altered with the passage of time, she has a lot to say about the way people used to read, and about how they read now.
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Jackson is not much interested in workaday marginal marks by reviewers (nor are her publishers, who leave little room for them), but she is willing to consider examples that are really no more than extensions of a claim to ownership. The signature may be augmented, for example, as by Stephen Dedalus in his geography textbook:

Stephen Dedalus
Class of Elements
Clongowes Wood College
Sallins
County Kildare
Ireland
Europe
The World
The Universe

On the opposite page another hand, that of Stephen’s schoolfellow Fleming, inscribed a poem:

Stephen Dedalus is my name,
Ireland is my nation.
Clongowes is my dwellingplace
And heaven my expectation.

(This addition, unlike Porson’s, was presumably made without the owner’s consent.)

Some scribblers will explain why and where the book was bought, and issue admonitions to borrowers or others into whose hands it may fall: “If this book should chance to roam, box its ears and send it home” to so-and-so, or some more grown-up request of that kind. More serious annotators will gloss words in the text that they have had to look up. Some make a private index of passages that have attracted their own remarks, and may record a more ample critical judgment on the blank paper of a flyleaf. These are likely to be annotators of the scrupulous type, and use ink only if they own the book and pencil if they do not own it (or if, as was sometimes Coleridge’s problem, the paper is so absorbent that ink forms an illegible blur).

Jackson seems surprised that such private indexes can sometimes appear at the beginning rather than at the end of a book, but this is only another form of the atavism that she recognizes as characteristic of marginalia generally. These manuscript additions descend from ancient practice: the marginal annotation of texts in pre-printing ages, which was then imitated by the earliest printers. The index at the front was a common feature of such books. Iago had such indexes in mind when he called Cassio’s courtesy “an index and obscure prologue to the history of lust and foul thoughts.”

The practice had changed by the time of Swift, who derided scholars who make a show of learning by getting “a thorough insight into the index, by which the whole book is governed and turned, like a fish by the tail.” Fashions in learned publication went on evolving, as when the footnote began to replace the printed marginal comment; and when the endnote later ousted the expensively double-set footnote, to the great detriment of scholarship. And now that modern printing can provide footnotes on the page with little extra expense, we may hope for the end of endnotes, though Jackson’s publishers do not seem to have made this great leap forward, or backward.

The point is that all these meta-textual interventions, including marginalia, have a long and continuous history. According to Jackson, the manuscript marginal note reached its apogee in the eighteenth century. Before that there were plenty of printed marginalia, and owners who did not have bookplates inscribed their names, sometimes with other information; but personal responses or arguments were hard to find. Some years ago a copy of Spenser’s The Faerie Queene was found with inked marginal comments, in which the writer had tried to interpret figures in the poem as allegorical allusions to Elizabethan notables, but was disappointingly less good at this game than later scholars, though the notes do say something about the way contemporaries went about reading the poem. Jackson plausibly claims that there is little of interest in this line before 1700.

The eighteenth century is another matter. Books were cheaper, and the growth of the practice of annotation probably coincides with a large increase in private ownership. The notes, as Jackson says, became at once more private and more public. Their authors used them for purposes of self-expression, but quite expected them to be read by eyes other than their own. They particularly solicited the attention of friends, who would sympathize with the personal tone while also constituting a small admiring public.

Reading was then, and remained until the early twentieth century, a more social activity than it is now. Women would read to a feminine family group, while their auditors worked at embroidery or the like. And communication might be kept up at a distance, with books given as presents and containing poems (“lines written on a blank leaf” and so on). Jackson quotes several such titles, giving the prize for long-windedness to the title of a poem by Robert Burns: “Written on the Blank Leaf of a Copy of the Last Edition of My Poems, Presented to the Lady Whom, in so Many Fictitious Reveries of Passion, but with the Most Ardent Sentiments of Real Friendship, I Have so often Sung under the Name of Chloris.”

Not all manuscript additions were so cordial. Sometimes they could be critical or even vengeful (“innumerable blunders and misconceptions ... unparalleled insolence and stupidity”), though on these occasions the annotator may just be talking to himself or herself, like Blake in his mostly rude notes on Reynolds’s Discourses, written long after that author was dead. This may be the case even when the reader appears to be addressing the author directly, as when John Horne Tooke writes in a boring book, “This, Bishop, is really extremely interesting.”

The tendency on the part of solitary readers to express contempt, disagreement, or approval when all they can do is nag a pile of paper is psychologically curious. In extreme forms, it can be obsessional. Fanatical orderliness may be thought a benevolent form of obsession, as in the case of systematic notation of the kind Gladstone went in for: a plan that provided him with serious aids to memory and self-improvement. But there are wilder varieties. Jackson, who enjoys herself throughout (writing, as it were, extensive marginalia on her collection of marginalia), calls Richard Clark, who “extra-illustrated” his own book on Handel, and adorned the books of others with crazed commentary, a “nutter,” surely a most unprofessorial expression.

“Extra-illustration”—or “grangerizing”—in the manner of Clark was a practice liable to induce mania. The second of those terms derives from James Granger, an eighteenth-century cleric who made catalogues of portraits, which the purchaser could adorn with reproductions of the portraits. This is not strictly the same kind of intervention as writing marginalia, and Jackson disapproves of the practice, for the inserts are often cut out of other books. But disapproval of bookish vandalism does not destroy her interest in grangerizing, or reduce her anecdotal zest. She tells how Queen Charlotte, the wife of George III, grangerized the autobiography of the actor Colley Cibber, first inlaying its octavo pages in folios and then binding in the queen’s eclectic selection of prints, here affectionately described.



Jackson also offers extended studies of marginalists—of Coleridge, for example, and of a reader who annotated Boswell’s Life of Johnson. The second of these cases is the more interesting, not just because the case of Coleridge is better known, but because Jackson, indefatigable researcher that she is (few would want to examine 386 copies of Boswell’s book!), has found out who the man was. Hester Lynch Piozzi annotated two copies of Boswell’s Life, drawing on her long but ill-fated friendship with Johnson, and actually had her notes published separately. Keats’s friend Leigh Hunt also put in some hard work on his copy. But “Scriblerus,” as Jackson’s favorite called himself, did far more. His copy of Boswell, now in the British Library in London, contains copious notes on spacious margins, the notes being rather hostile in tone. They occur on almost every page of the book, and were written at intervals through the 1790s.

The samples of Scriblerus that we have here fall a bit short of fascinating, even when he is scolding Boswell (“Bozzy, Thou art an absolute Idiot to print this”), but he comes through as a man of quality, self-assurance, and considerable learning; and he appears to have been a friend of members of Johnson’s circle, of Burke, Goldsmith, Burney, Garrick, and Reynolds. He seems to have been about the same age as Johnson. Craftily delaying her revelation, Jackson introduces some manuscripts, also in the British Library, that are in the same hand as the annotations to Boswell, and finally she unveils Scriblerus as Fulke Greville—not the famous Elizabethan poet and biographer of Philip Sidney, but a less gifted descendant whose identity Jackson has now revealed. Greville sent his annotated volumes to Boswell, who, not surprisingly, ignored them.

Another marginalist accorded a profile in Jackson’s book is T.H. White, author of The Once and Future King and of a less famous but marvelous book called The Goshawk, which describes how he trained a hawk the very hard way, with the aid of an Elizabethan treatise on the subject, being unaware that more modern and less exacting methods were available. White was educated at Cambridge, and Jackson seems to think that this circumstance, along with the coldness of his mother, explains his “troubled sexuality”; she describes Cambridge as a university in which “homosexuality (for men) was accepted, if not actually mandatory.” (Here I inserted two exclamation points in the margin of my copy.)

White annotated C.J. Jung’s Two Essays on Analytical Psychology (and wrote a private index), arguing with Jung’s text and making glancing allusions to Freud and Adler. When Jung outlines Freud’s theory of dreams, White marks the passage “Read this repeatedly.” A longer note, consigned to the back of the book, is an extraordinary experiment in free association, apparently alluding to White’s own Oedipus complex. “I tried to die of dysentery. Wine. Dis-entry. De sentry. To die of dis-entry. Failure to enter.” And so on. It seems that Jung and Freud prompted White to free-associate rather than to comment directly. Reading them had simply got him going, and all this tormented verbiage just happened to occur while he had the book at hand. The passage drifts weirdly towards Joyce at the end, and Jackson takes a lot of trouble over its interpretation, but the main effect of it on me was slightly to increase my respect for Finnegans Wake.



My respect for Jackson is measureless. Only rarely do the margins of her own book bear such comments as “Surely not!” and “Non sequitur?” One such disagreement I will allow myself: she says of Coleridge that “since he never acquired professional qualifications for the church or the university and struggled all his life to earn a living as a writer and occasional lecturer, he had plenty of time and incentive to read widely.” Well-known professors, with access to generous foundations, long vacations, highly favorable leave arrangements, and good pension prospects are, it is here suggested, far more pressed for time to read than a freelance literary journalist who, as the author of the remark admits, has to struggle all his life to earn a living. As far as I know, it never occurred to Coleridge to apply for a job at Cambridge, his old university. Cambridge was somnolently going through a bad patch at the time, and maybe that was his reason; or perhaps he thought that the place would trouble his sexuality, if it had not already done so. Certainly something did.

Who are the best marginalists? It is a question that Jackson naturally considers. She takes a good look at Horace Walpole, writing marginal memoranda for himself and “corrigenda for posterity,” but she concludes that his notes are not “personally revealing,” and his main aim is to enhance his own reputation as a know-it-all. He is witty, sometimes funny, sometimes malicious, but one is “suspicious of his motives” as a marginalist. He cannot be thought a prince among annotators.

There are certain conditions that must be met by anybody hoping to be considered for that honor. “The author and the annotator might be a good fit intellectually,” Jackson rules, “... or they might be contemporaries with comparable social backgrounds; or they might be experts in the same field. The common features themselves are less important than the ends that common features are expected to achieve, namely a competent and fair reading, or what Coleridge called `genial’ criticism—criticism written in the spirit of the original.” Who answers these requirements? Gibbon, perhaps. His notes, like Keats’s, exhibit what is here called “creative symbiosis”: both parties, author and commentator, are changed by the encounter.

Jackson also mentions for praise Northrop Frye’s notes on Bunyan and notes in two copies of Marianne Moore’s Selected Poems (1935), though the ones that she adduces are not impressive, being mostly unargued commendations. She is a little worried that the most admired marginalia should be by such famous commentators, and to compensate for this elitism her book is crammed with instances of the work of less illustrious persons. Yet these examples, she suggests, are the merest sampling. If we all made an effort, we could greatly improve our knowledge of marginalia, and go deeper into the social and psychological conditions that favor their production. In this way we could contribute to the fashionable academic preoccupation with the history of reading. The qualities for which we should be looking are intelligibility, relevance, honesty, “certified expertise,” information that will help a later reader to make better judgments, and a good “symbiotic” match between the two parties.



In an afterword, Jackson pleads for a reformation in our ways of dealing with marginalia. Access to them must be facilitated. They must be zealously preserved. Catalogues should indicate their presence. Different types of marginalia should be registered, and bibliographers are urged not to neglect them. Given a choice, one should always use an annotated copy. Thought should be given to the question of how these glosses can best be published, with special care taken not to give them the appearance of taking precedence over the original text. Publishers also should bear in mind the needs of annotators, though Jackson here adds that small margins do not deter them—a remark that surely deserves a marginal query itself. We should share our notes with friends, in the best eighteenth-century manner. If conventional books are going out, never mind: software is available for annotating their electronic successors.

Jackson thinks of almost everything. Perhaps some foundation will fund an enormous scholarly program on marginalia, with a team under her efficient direction. Or perhaps it can be done better by hard-reading freelance reviewers and lecturers. Whatever the future holds, we can say with confidence that Jackson’s Marginalia has done for marginalia what Anthony Grafton’s The Footnote did for footnotes. Henceforth we should all take a more informed interest in the scribbles that we find inside many battered books. The scribbles may be riches.

The social life of marginalia

http://bobulate.com/post/5013829096/the-social-life-of-marginalia
Apr 28, 2011

Traveling between home and work on a single day, I count 44 notes I’ve scribbled down. These notes are in part private, in part public, and in all parts messy. They are everyday marginalia — notes in a printed book, saves in Instapaper, lists in Simplenote, likes in Tumblr, shares in Google Reader. They are spontaneous bursts of inspiration, reading data, that I’ve come upon and don’t want to lose track of, noted and collected across media and devices. Scattered marginalia of life, saved.

But marginalia has a more collected history. When John Locke began taking notes in 1652, he did so in such an elaborate way that a publisher named John Bell published a notebook called Bell’s Common-Place Book, Formed generally upon the Principles Recommended and Practised by Mr Locke. This notebook, eight pages of instructions on an indexing method, was for the first time a way of making it easier to navigate an otherwise messy semblance of notes and thoughts.



Keeping “commonplace books” was the act of collecting bits of inspirational quotes and passages from disparate reading sources in one place, so cites Steven Johnson, and he refers to them as “a personalized encyclopedia of quotations.” Popular particularly in seventeenth and eighteenth century England, it was a way for readers of all kinds to track their paths.

Historian Robert Darnton reports on this nearly 250-year-old overlap of reading and writing behaviors:

    [Early modern Englishmen] read in fits and starts and jumped from book to book. They broke texts into fragments and assembled them into new patterns by transcribing them in different sections of their notebooks. Then they reread the copies and rearranged the patterns while adding more excerpts. Reading and writing were therefore inseparable activities.

Sound familiar?

See also:
"Each rereading of the commonplace book becomes a new kind of revelation." Where Good Ideas Come From, Steven Johnson

For all its mustiness, the commonplace book may still be a truer and more efficient collector of marginalia than our digital marks. While marginalia-making may be on the rise in forms unexpected by our Enlightment-era predecessors, its diverse and frenetic recordings still remain vastly disconnected and uncollected. Should we be considering containers for our collections?
Common behaviors

“Marginalia” refers to the notes and scribbles made by readers in the margins of their texts. As the reader’s ongoing dialog with a text, it takes different forms — drawings in illuminated manuscripts, decorations, doodles, and such.

Blackwood Magazine most likely introduced the term in 1819, but Edgar Allan Poe popularized it between 1845-1849 with Marginalia. Since, there have been authors who’ve created their own collections of published marginalia, not the least of whom is Walter Benjamin who struggled after thirteen years of research, leaving behind The Arcades Project, “the theater,” as he called it, “of all my struggles and all my ideas.”
Out of the margins

When a consumer encounters marginalia in a used book, it has the potential to change one’s perception of a book’s value. Cathy Marshall, a Microsoft researcher, found that university students evaluated textbooks before purchasing so that they could bring home the book with the smartest notes. In an effort to discover methods to use annotations in eBooks, Marshall stumbled upon this physical-world behavior, an approach to gaining a wisdom-of-crowds conclusion hiding in the margins.

What can we tell about a text from its notes? About readers from what they’ve left behind? And when these notes are made public — as Kindle developers and book futurists are exploring — what will emerge? How might shared reader data change readers’ annotating behavior?

James Bridle encourages one to explore some of these questions with Open Bookmarks, a project launched in 2010 that explored sharing annotations and reading data across platforms. These shareable bookmarks become a reference for every book a person has read—no matter where that reading took place.
Intention attention

In May 2009, Amazon announced a new feature, readers could not only highlight passages in their books, but review those notes online. In online Kindle accounts, readers can see all highlighted passages and books, but more interesting perhaps, readers can also see the “most highlighted passages of all time” or “heavily highlighted recently.” If Marshall has highlighted a passage from Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers, she’ll see that same passage was highlighted by 3,146 other Kindle users. With efforts from bookfuturists like Bridle and movements like this from Amazon, the last bastion of the printed era, the reader data, is finally breaking free of its margins.

While Amazon is still not allowing users to share their passages, it does indeed seem the next logical step. Yet what will it mean to us to know 87 other readers have also highlighted? And further, what did they intend when they highlighted?

Robin Sloan, a writer and media inventor, asks reviewers of his forthcoming book Mr. Penumbra’s Twenty Four Hour Book Store to share their “mental state” via marginalia. Developing a visual language for real-time annotations, he welcomes people to go through his text at a reader’s pace, marking their reactions in real time. Somewhere between Sloan and Kindle, there is meaning emerging.
Making meaning

See also:
‘What I Really Want Is Someone Rolling Around in the Text’, Sam Anderson

New York Times Magazine contributor, Sam Anderson, pulls back the curtain on intention with his 2010 list of scribbles in the margins. From Bleak House to The Anthology of Rap, Anderson presented scans of his sidelines. Reviewing the list, one begins to see patterns emerge. Categories of reader data, the likes of which Marshall’s studies evaluated, on each page suggest that exposing the notes is not enough. It’s the intention that matters.

Even if we can capture intention and overcome sharing, we might come back to consider what was formerly known as the commonplace book. How might new book designers — of any format — replicate its sense of wholeness and real-time cataloging online? Do we need to?

It’s critical that the new book designer consider how and where these marks might be shared. I’m not suggesting that all annotations be social lest we become self-conscious in our book-relationships. One of the principal pleasures of taking notes is the intimacy with a passage, the outright honesty with which one might scribble, “Gasp!” or “Hogwash,” or “True that,” for later reminding. But there will need to be equal consideration given to what to keep personal as to what to make shareable.

After all, some sentiments are best left between you and your margins.

Article written as part of column for Interactions Magazine ©ACM. This is an abbreviated version of the work and my version of it. It is posted here with permission by ACM. Full version in issue: XVIII.3 - May / June, 2011 » The Social Life of Marginalia. Thanks to Caren Litherland for expert editing.

MASQUE OF QUEENS Ben Jonson

T H E

M  A  S  Q  U  E

O F
Q   u   E   E   N   S,

Celebrated from the House of FAME:

B Y   T H E

Q U E E N  of Great Britain, with her  L A D I E S.
At W H I T E H A L L,  Feb. 2. 1609.

I T encreasing, now, to the third time of my  being us'd in these Services to her Maje-  sties personal Presentations, with the Ladies  whom she pleaseth to honour; it was my first and special regard, to see that the nobi- lity of the Invention should be answerable to the dignity of their Persons. For which reason I chose the Argument to be, A celebration of honourable and true Fame, bred out of Virtue: ob- serving that Rule (a) of the best Artist, to suffer no object of delight to pass without his mixture of Profit and Example. And because her Ma- jesty (best knowing, that a principal part of life, in these Spectacles, lay in their variety) had commanded me to think on some Dance, or Shew, that might precede hers, and have the place of a foil or false Masque: I was care- ful to decline, not only from others, but mine own Steps in that kind, since the (b) last Year, I had an Anti-masque of Boys: and therefore now, devis'd, that twelve Women, in the habit of Hags, or Witches, sustaining the Persons of Ignorance, Suspicion, Credulity, &c. the Opposites to good Fame, should fill that part; not as a Masque, but a Spectacle of strangeness, produ- cing multiplicity of Gesture, and not unaptly sorting with the current, and whole fall of the Device.    His Majesty, then, being set, and the whole Company in full expectation, the part of the Scene which first presented it self, was an ugly Hell: which flaming beneath, smoked unto the top of the Roof. And in respect all evils are, Morally, said to come from Hell; as also from that observation of Torrentius upon Horace his Canidia, (c) quæ tot instructa venenis, ex Orci faucibus profecta videri possit: These Witches, with a kind of hollow and infernal Musick, came forth from thence. First one, then two, and three, and more, till their number increased (a) Hor. in Art. Poe- tic. (b) In the Masque at my L. Haddings Wedding. (c) Vide Lævin. Tor. Com- ment. in Hor. Epod. lib. Ode. 5. [column break] to eleven; all differently attyr'd: some with Rats on their Head; some on their Shoulders; others with Ointment Pots at their Girdles; all with Spindles, Timbrels, Rattles, or other veneficall Instruments, making a confused noise, with strange Gestures. The Device of their Attire was Master Jones his, with the Inven- tion, and Architecture of the whole Scene, and Machine. Only, I prescrib'd them their Proper- ties of Vipers, Snakes, Bones, Herbs, Roots, and other Ensigns of their Magick, out of the Au- thority of ancient and late Writers, wherein the Faults are mine, if there be any found; and for that cause I confest them.    These eleven Witches beginning to dance (which is an usual (d) Ceremony at their Con- vents, or Meetings, where sometimes also they are vizarded, and masqu'd) on the sudden, one of them missed their Chief, and interrupted the rest with this Speech. (d) See the King's Majesties Book (our Sove- reign) of Dæmono- logy, Bodin. Remig. Delrio. Mal. Malefi. And a world of others in the general: But let us follow particulars. S Isters, stay, we want our (e) Dame;  Call upon her by her Name, And the Charm we use to say; That she quickly (f) anoint, and come away.       (e) A- mongst our vulgar Witches, the ho- nour of Dame (for so I translate it) is given with a kind of preemi- nence to some special one at their meetings: which Delrio insinuates, Disquis. Mag. lib. 2. quest. 9. quoting that of Apuleius lib. de Asin. au- reo. de quadam caupona, Regina Sagarum. And adds, ut scias etiam tum quasdam ab iis hoc titulo honoratas. Which title M. Philippo Ludwigus Elich. Dæmonomagiæ, quest. 10. doth also remember. (f) When they are to be transported from place to place, they use to anoint themselves, and sometimes the things they ride on. Beside Apul. testimony, see these later, Remig. Dæmonolatriæ lib. 1. cap. 14. Delrio, Disquis. Mag. l. 2. quæst. 16. Bodin. Dæmonoman. l. 2. c. 4. Barthol. de Spina. quæst. de Strigib. Philippo. Ludwigus Elich. quæst. 10. Paracel- sus in magn. & occul. Philosophia, teacheth the confection. Unguen- tum ex carne recens natorum infantium, in pulmenti forma coctum, & cum herbis somniferis, quales sunt Papaver, Solanum, Cienta, &c. And Ioa. Bapti. Porto. lib. 2. Mag. Natur. cap. 16. Y y                           1  CHARM.

---

346 Masques.                     1  C H A R M. D Ame, Dame, the Watch is set:  Quickly come, we all are met. (a) From the Lakes, and from the Fens, From the Rocks, and from the Dens, From the Woods, and from the Caves, From the Church-yards, from the Graves,            From the Dungeon, from the Tree That they die on, here are we.    Comes she not yet?    Strike another heat. (a) These places, in their own nature dire and dismal are reckon'd up, as the fittest from whence such Persons should come: and were notably observed by that ex- cellent Lucan, in the Description of his Erictho. lib. 6. to which we may add this Corollary out of Agrip. de occult. Philosop. l. 1. c. 48. Saturno correspondent loca quævis fœtida, tenebrosa, subterranea, reli- giosa & funesta, ut cœmiteria, busta, & hominibus deserta habitacula, & vetustate caduca, loca obscura, & horrenda, & solitaria antra, cavernæ putei: Præterea piscinæ, stagna, paludes, & ejusmodi. And in lib. 3. c. 42. speaking of the like, and in lib. 4. about the end, Aptissima sunt loca plurimum experientia visionum, nocturnarumque incursionum & consimilium phantasmatum, ut cœmiteria, & in quibus fieri solent executiones criminalis judicii, in quibus recentibus annis publicæ strages factæ sunt, vel ubi occisorum cadavera, necdum expiata, nec ritè sepulta, recentioribus annis subhumata sunt. 2  C H A R M. T He Weather is fair, the Wind is good,  Up Dame, o'your (b) Horse of Wood: Or else, tuck up your gray Frock, And saddle your (c) Goat, or your green (d) Cock, And make his Bridle a bottom of Thrid, To rowl up how many Miles you have rid. Quickly come away; For we, all, stay.    Nor yet? Nay, then,    We'll try her agen. (b) Delrio Disq.Mag. lib.2. quæ. 6. has a Story out of Trie- zius of this Horse of Wood: but that which our Witches call so, is sometimes a Broom-staff, sometimes a Reed, sometimes a Distaff. See Remig. Dæmonol. lib. 1. cap. 14. Bodin. l. 2. cap. 4. &c. (c) The Goat is the Devil himself, upon whom they ride often to their Solem- nities, as appears by their Confessions in Rem. and Bodin. ibid. His Majesty also remembers the Story of the Devils appearance to those of Calicut, in that form, Dæmonol. lib. 2. cap. 3. (d) Of the green Cock, we have no other ground (to confess ingenuously) than a vul- gar Fable of a Witch, that with a Cock of that colour, and a bottom of blue Thred, would transport her self through the Air; and so esca- ped (at the time of her being brought to execution) from the hand of Justice. It was a Tale when I went to School, and somewhat there is like it, in Mar. Delr. Disqui. Mag. lib. 2. quæst. 6. of one Zuti, a Bohemian, that, among other his dexterities, aliquoties equis rheda- riis vectum, gallis gallinaceis ad Epirrhedium suum allegatis, subseque- batur. 3  C H A R M. T He Owl is abroad, the Bat, and the Toad,               And so is the Cat-a-mountain, The Ant, and the Mole sit both in a hole,    And Frog peeps out o'the Fountain; The Dogs, they do bay, and the Timbrels play,    The (e) Spindle is now a turning; The Moon it is red, and the Stars are fled,    But all the Sky is a burning: (e) All this is but a Periphra- sis of the Night, in their charm, and their applying themselves to it with their Instruments, whereof the Spindle in Antiquity was the chief: and be- side the testimony of Theocrisus, in Pharmaceutria (who only used it in amorous affairs) was of special act to the troubling of the Moon. To which Martial alludes, lib. 9. ep. 30. Quæ nunc Thessalico Lunam deducere rhombo, &c. And lib. 12. ep. 57. Cum secta Colcho Luna vapulat rhombo. [column break] The (f) Ditch is made, and our Nails the Spade, With Pictures full, of Wax, and of Wooll; Their Lives I stick, with Needles quick; There lacks but the Blood, to make up the Flood.          Quickly Dame, then, bring your part in,          Spur, spur, upon little (g) Martin,          Merrily, merrily, make him fail,          A Worm in his Mouth, and a Thorn in's Tail,          Fire above, and Fire below,          With a Whip i'your Hand, to make him go.             O, now she's come!             Let all be dumb. (f) This Rite also of making a Ditch with their Nails, is frequent with our Witches; whereof see Bodin. Remig. Delr. Mal- leus, Mal. Godelman, l. 2. de La- miis, as also the antiquity of it most lively exprest by Hor. Satyr. 8. lib. 1. where he mentions the Pictures, and the Blood of a black Lamb. All which are yet in use with our modern Witchcraft. Scalpere terram (speaking of Canidia, and Sagana) Unguibus, & pullam divellere mordicus agnam Cœperunt: Cruor fossam confusus, ut inde Maneis eli- cerent animas responsa daturas. Lanea & effigies erat, altera cerea, &c. And then, by and by, Serpentes atque videres Infernas errare caneis, Lunamque rubentem, Ne foret his testis, post magna latere sepulchra. Of this Ditch, Homer makes mention in Cerces Speech to Ulysses. Odyss. K. about the end. Boqron oruxai, &c. And Ovid. Metam. lib. 7. in Medeas magick, Haud procul egesta scrobibus tellure duabus Sa- cra facit cultrosque in gutture velleris atri Conjicit, & patulas per- fundit sanguine fossas. And of the waxen Images, in Hypsipiles Epistle to Jason, where he expresseth that mischief also of the Needles. De- vovet absentes, simulacraque cerea fingit. Et miserum tenues in jecur ur- get acus. Bodin. Dæmon. lib. 2. cap. 8. hath (beside the known Story of King Duffe out of Hector Boetius) much of the Witches later pra- ctice in that kind, and reports a Relation of a French Embassadors, out of England, of certain Pictures of Wax found in a Dunghill, near Islington, of our late Queens, which Rumor, I my self (being then very young) can yet remember to have been current. (g) Their little Martin is he that calls them to their Conventicles, which is done in a humane Voice, but coming forth, they find him in a shape of a great buck Goat, upon whom they ride to their Meetings, Delr. Disq. Mag. quæst. 16. lib. 2. And Bod. Dæmon. lib. 2. cap. 4. have both the same Relation from Paulus Grillandus, of a Witch. Adveniente nocte & hora evocabatur voce quadam velut humana ab ipso Dæmone, quem non vocant Dæmonem, sed Magisterulum, aliæ Magistrum Mar- tinettum sive Martinellum. Quæ sic evocata, mox sumebat pyxidem unctionis, & liniebat corpus suum in quibusdam partibus & membris, quo linito exibat ex domo, & inveniebat Magisterulum suum in forma hirci illam expectantem apud ostium, super quo mulier equitabat, & applicare solebat fortiter manus ad crineis, & statim hircus ille adscen- debat per aerem, & brevissimo tempore deferebat ipsam, &c.    At this, the (h) Dame enter'd to them, Naked- arm'd, bare-footed, her Frock tuck'd, her hair knotted, and folded with Vipers; in her Hand a Torch made of a dead Man's Arm, lighted; girded with a Snake. To whom they all did Reverence, and she spake, utter- ing, by way of Question, the End wherefore they came: which if it had been done either before, or otherwise, had not been so natural. For, to have made them- selves, their own Decypherers, and each one to have told upon their entrance, what they were, and whe- ther they would, had been a most pitious Hearing, and utterly unworthy any quality of a Poem: wherein a Writer should always trust somewhat to the capa- city of the Spectator, especially, at these Specta- cles; where Men, beside inquiring Eyes, are understood to bring quick Ears, and not those sluggish ones of Porters and Mechanicks, that must be bored through, at every Act, with Narrations. (h) This Dame I make to bear the Person of Ate, or Mischief (for so I interpret it) out of Homer's Descrip- tion of her, Il. i. where he makes her swift to hurt Man- kind, strong, and sound of her Feet; and Iliad. T. walking upon Mens Heads; in both Places using one and the same Phrase to signifie her Power, Blaptous anqrwpouV, Lædens homines. I present her bare-footed, and her Frock tuck'd, to make her seem more expedite, by Horace his authority. Sat. 8. lib. 1. Succinctam vadere palla Canidiam pedibus nudis, passoque capillo. But for her Hair, I rather respect another Place of his, Epod. lib. Ode. 5. where she appears Canidia brevibus implicata viperis Crineis, & incomptum caput. And that of Lucan, lib. 6. speaking of Erectho's attire. Discolor, & vario Furialis cultus amictu Induitur, vultusq; ape- ritur crine remoto, Et coma vipereis substringitur horrida sertis. For her Torch, see Remig. lib. 2. cap. 3. D A M E.

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Masques. 347 D A M E.  H A G S. W Ell done, my Hags. And, come we fraught with spight, To overthrow the glory of this night? Holds our great purpose?  Hag. Yes.  Dam. But want's there none Of our just number?  Hag. Call us one by one, And then our Dame shall see.  Dam. (a) First, then, advance My drowsie Servant, stupid Ignorance, Known by thy scaly Vesture; and bring on Thy fearful Sister, wild Suspicion, Whose Eyes do never sleep; Let her knit Hands With quick Credulity, that next her stands, Who hath but one Ear, and that always ope; Two-faced Falsehood follow in the Rope; And lead on Murmur, with the Cheeks deep hung; She Malice, whetting of her forked Tongue; And Malice, Impudence, whose Forehead's lost; Let Impudence lead Slander on, to boast Her oblique Look; and to her subtle Side, Thou, black-mouth'd Execration, stand apply'd; Draw to thee Bitterness, whose Pores sweat Gall; She flame-ey'd Rage; Rage, Mischief.  Hag. Here we are all.    Dam. (b) Joyn now our Hearts, we faithful Opposites To Fame, and Glory. Let not these bright Nights Of honor blaze, thus to offend our Eyes; Shew our selves truly Envious, and let rise Our wonted Rages: Do what may beseem Such Names, and Natures; Vertue else will deem Our Powers decreas'd, and think us banish'd Earth, No less than Heaven. All her antique Birth, As Justice, Faith, she will restore; and, bold Upon our sloth, retrieve her Age of gold. We must not let our native Manners, thus, Corrupt with Ease. Ill lives not, but in us. I hate to see these Fruits of a soft Peace, And curse the Piety gives it such Increase. (a) In the chaining of these Vices, I make, as if one link produced another, and the Dame were born out of them all, so as they might say to her. Sola tenes scelerum quicquid possedimus omnes. Nor will it appear much vio- lenced, if their Se- ries be consider- ed, when the oppo- sition to all Virtue begins out of Igno- rance. That Igno- rance be- gets Suspi- cion (for knowledg is ever open, and charita- ble.) That Suspicion, Crudelity. as it is a Vice: for being a Virtue, and free, it is oppo- site to it: but such as are jealous of themselves, do easily credit any thing of others whom they hate. Out of this Credulity springs Falshood, which begets Murmur: and that of Murmur presently grows Malice, which begets Impudence: and that Impudence, Slander: that Slander, Execra- tion: Execration, Bitterness: Bitterness, Fury: and Fury, Mischief. Now, for the personal Presentation of them, the authority in Poetry is universal. But in the absolute Claudian, there is a particular and eminent Place, where the Poet not only produceth such Persons, but almost to a like purpose, in Ruf. lib. 1. where Alecto, envious of the Times, infernas ad limina tetra sorores, Concilium deforme vocat, glo- merantur in unum Innumeræ pestes Erebi, quascunque sinistro Nox ge- nuit fortis: nutrix Discordia belli, Imperiosa Fames, leto vicina Sene- ctus, Impatiensque sui Morbus, Livorque secundis Anxius & scisse mœ- rens velamine Luctus, Et Timor, & cæco præceps Audacia vultu: with many others, fit to disturb the World, as ours the Night. (b) Here again, by way of irritation, I make the Dame pursue the purpose of their coming, and discover their Natures more largely: which had been nothing, if not done as doing another thing, but Moratio circa vilem patulumq; orbem. Than which, the Poet cannot know a greater Vice; he being that kind of Artificer, to whose work is required so much exactness, as indifferency is not tolerable. [column break] Let us disturb it then, (c) and blast the Light; Mix Hell with Heaven, and make Nature fight Within her self; loose the whole henge of Things; And cause the ends run back, into their Springs.    Hag. What our Dame bids us do, We are ready for.   Dam. Then fall too. (d) But first relate me, what you have sought, Where you have been, and what you have brought.  (c) These Powers of troubling Nature, frequently ascrib'd to Witches, and chal- leng'd by themselves whereever they are induc'd, by Homer, Ovid, Tibullus, Pet. Arbiter, Seneca, Lucan, Clau- dian. to whose authorities I shall refer more anon. For the present, hear Socrat. in Apul. de Asin. aureo, l. 1. describing Meroe the Witch. Saga, & Divinipotens cœlum deponere, terram suspendere, fontes du- rare, monteis diluere, Manes sublimare, Deos infimare, Sydera extin- guere, Tartarum ipsum illuminare: and l. 2. Byrrhena to Lucius, of Pamphile. Maga primi nominis, & omnis carminis sepulcralis Magistra creditur, quæ surculis & lapillis, & id genus frivolis inhalatis omnem istam lucem mundi syderalis, imis Tartari, & in vetustum chaos mer- git: as also this later of Remigius, in his most elegant Arguments, before his Dæmonolatria. Quà possint evertere funditus orbem, Et Ma- neis superis miscere, hæc unica cura est. And Lucan. Quarum, quic- quid non creditur, ars est. (d) This is also solemn in their Witchcraft, to be examined, either by the Devil, or their Dame, at their Meetings, of what mischief they have done; and what they can confer to a future hurt. See M. Philippo Ludwigus Elich. Dæmonomagiæ, lib. quæst. 10. But Remigius, in the very form lib. 1. Dæmonolat. c. 22. Quemadmodum solent Heri in villicis procuratoribus, cum eorum rationes expendunt, segnitiem negligentiamque durius castigare; Ita Dæmon, in suis comitiis, quod tempus examinandis cujusque rebus atque actio- nibus ipse constituit, eos pessimè habere consuevit, qui nihil afferunt quo se nequiores ac flagitiis cumulatiores doceant. Nec cuiquam adeo impune est, si à superiore conventu nullo se scelere novo obstrinxerit; sed semper oportet, qui gratus esse volet, in alium, novum aliquod fa- cinus fecisse: and this doth exceedingly solicite them all, at such times, lest they should come unprepared. But we apply this exami- nation of ours to the particular use; whereby, also, we take occa- sion, not only to express the things (as Vapours, Liquors, Herbs, Bones, Flesh, Blood, Fat, and such like, which are call'd Media ma- gica) but the Rites of gathering them, and from what places, recon- ciling (as near as we can) the practice of Antiquity to the Neoterick, and making it familiar with our popular Witchcraft. H A G S. 1. I  Have been, all Day, looking after   A Raven, feeding upon a Quarter; And, soon, as she turn'd her Beak to the South, I snatch'd this Morsel out of her Mouth. 1. For the gathering pieces of dead Flesh, Cornel. A- grip. de oc- cult. Philosoph. lib. 3. cap. 42. and lib. 4. cap. ult. observes, that the use was to call up Ghosts and Spirits, with a Fumigation made of that (and Bones of Carkasses) which I make my Witch, here, not to cut her self, but to watch the Raven, as Lucan's Erichtho. lib. 6. Et quod- cunque jacet nuda tellure cadaver, Ante feras volucresque sedet: nec car- pere membra Vult ferro manibusque suis, morsusque luporum Expectat siccis raptura à faucibus artus. As if that piece were sweeter which the Wolf had bitten, or the Raven had pick'd, and more effectuous: and to do it, at her turning to the South, as with the prediction of a Storm. Which, though they be but minutes in Ceremony, being ob- serv'd, make the act more dark and full of horror. 2. I  Have been gathering Wolves Hairs,   The mad Dogs foam, and the Adders Ears;         The spurgings of a dead-man's Eyes, And all since the Evening Star did rise. 2. Spuma canum, Lupi cri- nes, nodus Hyenæ, oculi dra- conum, Serpentis membrana, Aspidis aures, are all mentioned by the An- cients, in Witchcraft. And Lucan particularly, lib. 6. Huc quicquid fœtu genuit Natur a sinistro Miscetur, non spuma canum, quibus unda ti- mori est, Viscera non Lyncis, non duræ nodus Hyenæ Defuit, &c. And Ovid. Metamorph. lib. 7. reckons up others. But for the purging of the Eyes, let us return to Lucan, in the same Book, which Piece (as all the rest) is written with an admirable height. Ast ubi servantur saxis, quibus intimus humor Ducitur, & tracta durescunt tabe medullæ Corpora, tunc omineis avidè desævit in artus, Immersitq; manus oculis, gaudetque gelatos Effodisse orbeis, & sicca pallida rodit Excrementa manu. Y y 2                                 3. I last

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348 Masques.                     3. I  Last Night, lay all alone   O'the Ground, to hear the Mandrake grone; And pluckt him up, though he grew full low; And, as I had done, the Cock did crow.            3. Pliny writing of the Man- drake, Nat. Hist. l. 25. c. 13. and of the digging it up, hath this Ceremony, Cavent effossuri contrarium ventum, & tribus circulis antè gladio circumscribunt, postea fodiunt ad Occasum spectantes. But we have later tradition, that the forcing of it up is so fatally dangerous, as the grone kills, and therefore they do it with Dogs, which I think but borrowed from Josephus his Re- port of the Root Baæras, lib. 7. de Bel. Judaic. Howsoever, it being so principal an ingredient in their Magick, it was fit she should boast to be the Plucker up of it her self. And, that the Cock did crow, al- ludes to prime circumstance in their work: For they all confess, that nothing is so cross, or balefull to them, in their Nights, as that the Cock should crow before they have done. Which makes, that their little Masters, or Martinets, of whom I have mentioned before, use this form, in dismissing their Conventions. Eja, facessite properè hinc omnes, nam jam galli canere incipiunt. Which I interpret to be, be- cause that Bird is the Messenger of light, and so, contrary to their acts of darkness. See Remig. Dæmonolat. lib. 1. cap. 4. where he quotes that of Apollonius, de umbra Achillis, Philostr. lib. 4. cap. 5. And Euseb. Cæsariens. in confutat. contra Hierocl. 4. de Gallicinio. 4. A Nd I ha'been choosing out this Scull,   From Charnel Houses, that were full; From private Grots, and publick Pits, And frighted a Sexton out of his Wits.                    4. I have touched at this be- fore, in my Note up- on the first, or the use of gathering Flesh, Bones, and Sculls: to which I now bring that piece of Apuleius, lib. 3. de Asino aureo, of Pamphile. Pri- usque apparatu solito instruxit feralem officinam, omne genus aromatis, & ignorabiliter laminis literatis, & infœlicium navium durantibus clavis defletorum, sepultorum etiam, cadaverum expositis multis admo- dum membris, hic nares, & digiti, illic carnosi clavi pendentium, alibi trucidatorum servatus cruor, & extorta dentibus ferarum trunca cal- varia: And, for such places, Lucan makes his Witch to inhabit them, lib. 6. Desertaque busta Incolit, & tumulos expulsis obtinet umbris. 5. u Nder a Cradle I did creep,   By Day; and, when the Child was a sleep, At Night, I suck'd the Breath; and rose, And pluck'd the nodding Nurse by the Nose.         5. For this Rite, see Barthol. de Spina. Quæst de Strigibus, cap. 8. Mal. Malefica. Tom. 2. where he disputes at large the transfor- mation of Witches to Cats, and their sucking, both their Spirits, and the blood, calling them Striges, which Godelman. lib. de Lamiis, would have à stridore, & avibus fœdissimis ejusdem nominis, which I the ra- ther incline to, out of Ovid's authority, Fast. lib. 6. where the Poet ascribes, to those Birds, the same almost that these do to the Witches, Nocte volant, puerosque petunt nutricis egenteis, Et vitiant cunis corpora rapta suis: Carpere dicuntur lactentia viscera rostris, Et plenum poto sanguine guttur habent. 6. I  Had a Dagger: what did I with that?   Kill'd an Infant, to have his fat. A Piper it got, at a Church-ale, I bad him, again blow Wind i'th' Tail.                        6. Their killing of Infants is common, both for confection of their Oyntment (whereto one ingredient, is the fat boiled, as I have shewed before out of Paracelsus and Porta) as also out of a lust to do murder. Sprenger in Mal. Malefic. reports, that a Witch, a Mid- wife in the Diocese of Basil, confessed to have killed above Forty In- fants (ever as they were new born with pricking them in the Brain with a Needle) which she had offered to the Devil. See the Story of the three Witches in Rem. Dæmonola. lib. cap. 3. about the end of the Chapter. And M. Philippo Ludwigus Elich. Quæst. 8. And, that it is no new Rite, read the practice of Canidia, Epod. Horat. lib. Ode. 5. and Lucan. lib. 6. whose admirable Verses I can never be weary to tran- scribe. Nec cessant à cædemanus, si sanguine vivo Est opus, erumpat jugulo qui primus aperto. Nec refugit cædes, vivum si sacra cruorem Extaque funereæ poscunt trepidantia mensæ. Vulnere si ventris, non qua Natura vocabat Extrahitur partus calidis ponendus in aris; Et quo- ties sævis opus est, & fortibus umbris Ipsa facit Maneis. Hominum mors omnis in usu est. [column break] 7. A  Murderer, yonder, was hung in Chains,   The Sun and the Wind had shrunk his Veins; I bit off a Sinew; I clipp'd his Hair, I brought off his Rags, that danc'd i'th' Air. 7. The abuse of dead Bo- dies in their Witch- craft, both Porphyrio and Psellus are grave Authors of. The one lib. de sacrif. de vero cultu. The other lib. de. Dæmo. which Apuleius toucheth too, lib. 2. de Asin. aureo. But Remigius, who deals with later Persons, and out of their own Mouths, Dæmonol. lib. 2. cap. 3. affirms, Hæc & nostræ ætatis maleficis hominibus moris est facere, præsertim si cujus supplicio affecti cadaver exemplo datum est, & in crucem sublatum. Nam non solum inde sortilegiis suis materiam mutuantur: Sed & ab ipsis carnificinæ instrumentis, reste, vinculis, palo, ferramentis. Siquidem iis vulgi etiam opinione inesse ad incantationes magicas vim quandam & potestatem. And to this place, I dare not, out of religion to the divine Lucan, but bring his Verses from the same Book. Laqueum, nodosque nocenteis Ore suo rupit, pendentia corpora carpsit, Abrasitque cruces, percussaque viscera nimbis Vulsit, & incoctas admisso sole medul- las. Insertum manibus chalybem nigramque per artus Stillantis tabi sa- niem, virusque coactum Sustulit, & nervo morsus retinente pependit. 8. T He Scrich-owls Eggs, and the Feathers black,   The Blood of the Frog, and the Bone in his back, I have been getting; and made of his Skin A purset, to keep Sir Cranion in. 8. These are Cani- dia's Fur- niture, in Hora. E- pod. lib. Ode. 5. Et uncta turpis ova ranæ sanguine, Plumamque nocturnæ strigis. And part of Medea's Confection, in Ovid. Metamorph. lib. 7. Strigis infames, ip- sis cum carnibus, alas. That of the Skin (to make a Purse for her Fly) was meant ridiculous, to mock the keeping of their Familiars. 9. A Nd I ha'been plucking (Plants among)            Hemlock, Henbane, Adders-tongue, Night-shade, Moon-wort, Libbards-bane; And twise, by the Dogs, was like to be tane. 9. Cicuta, Hyoscya- mus, O- phioglosson, Solanum Martagon, Doronicum, Aconitum, are the common venefical Ingredients remem- bred by Paracelsus, Porta, Agrippa, and others; which I make her to have gather'd, as about a Castle, Church, or some vast Building (kept by Dogs) among Ruins, and wild Heaps. 10. I , From the Jaws of a Gardiner's Bitch,   Did snatch these Bones, and then leap'd the Ditch; Yet went I back to the House again, Kill'd the black Cat, and here's the Brain. 10. Ossa ab ore rap- ta jejunæ canis, Ho- race gives Canidia, in the place before quoted. Which jejunæ, I rather change to Gard'ners, as imagining such Persons to keep Mastiffs for the defence of their Grounds, whither this Hag might go also for Simples: where, meet- ing with the Bones, and not content with them, she would yet do a domestick hurt, in getting the Cat's Brains: which is another spe- cial Ingredient; and of so much more efficacy, by how much blacker the Cat is, if you will credit Agri. de suffitibus. 11. I  Went to the Toad breeds under the Wall,   I charm'd him out, and he came at my call; I scratch'd out the Eyes of the Owl before, I tore the Bat's Wing; what would you have more? 11. These also, both by the confessions of Wit- ches, and testimony of Writers, are of principal use in their Witchcraft. the Toad men- tion'd in Virg. Geo. lib. 1. Inventusq; canis Bufo. Which by Pliny is cal- led Rubeta, Nat. Hist. l. 32. c. 5. and there celebrated for the force in Magick. Juvenal toucheth at it twice, within my memory, Satyr. 1. & 6. And of the Owl's eyes, see Corn. Agri. de occult. Philos. l. 1. c. 15. As of the Bat's Blood, and Wings there: and in the 25. Chap. with Bapt. Porta. l. 2. c. 26. 12. DAME.

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Masques. 349 12. D A M E. Y Es, I have brought (to help our vows)   Horned Poppy, Cypress boughs, The Fig-tree wild, that grows on Tombs, And Juice, that from the Larch-tree comes, The Basilick's Blood, and the Viper's Skin: And, now, our Orgies let's begin.                    12. After all their boasted la- bours, and plenty of Materials (as they imagine) I make the Dame not only to add more, but stranger, and out of their means to get (except the first Papaver cornutum, which I have touch'd at in the Confection) as Sepulchris caprificos erutas, & cu- pressos funebreis, as Horace calls them, where he arms Canidia, Epod. lib. Ode. 5. Then Agaricum Laricis, of which, see Porta. lib. 2. de Nat. Magi. against Pliny. And Basilisci, quem & Saturni sanguinem vo- cant venefici, tantasque vires habere ferunt. Cor. Agrip. de occult. Phi- los. l. 1. c. 42. With the Viper, remembred by Lucan. lib. 6. and the Skins of Serpents. Innataque rubris Æquoribus custos pretiosæ vipera conchæ, Aut viventis adhuc Lybicæ membrana cerastæ. And Ovid, lib. 7. Nec defuit illis Squamea Ciniphei tenuis membrana chelidri.    Here, the Dame put her self in the midst of them, and began her following Invocation; wherein she took occasion, to boast all the power attributed to Witches by the Ancients; of which, every Poet (or the most) do give some: Homer to Circe, in the Oddyss. Theocritus to Simatha, in Pharmaceutria; Vir- gil to Alphesibœs, in his. Ovid to Dipsas, in Amor. to Medea and Circe, in Metamorph. Tibullus to Saga; Ho- race to Canidia, Sagana, Veia, Folia; Seneca to Medea, and the Nurse, in Herc. OEte. Petr. Arbiter; to his Saga, in Frag. and Claudian to Megæra, lib. 1. in Rufinum; who takes the habit of a Witch, as these do, and supplies that Histo- rical Part in the Poem, beside her moral Person of a Fury; confirming the same drift, in ours. Y Ou (a) Fiends and Furies (if yet any be   Worse than our selves) you that have quak'd to see These (b) Knots untied; and shrunk, when we have charm'd. You, that (to arm us) have your selves disarm'd, And to our Powers, resign'd your Whips & Brands When we went forth, the scourge of Men and Lands. You that have seen me ride, when Hecate Durst not take Chariot; when the boistrous Sea, Without a breath of Wind, hath knockt the Sky; And that hath thundred, Jove not knowing why: When we have set the Elements at wars, Made Midnight see the Sun, and Day the Stars; When the wing'd Lightning, in the course, hath staid; And swiftest Rivers have run back, afraid, To see the Corn remove, the groves to range, Whole Places alter, and the Seasons change, When the pale Moon, at the first Voice down fell Poyson'd, and durst not stay the second Spell. You, that have oft been conscious of these Sights; And thou (c) three-formed Star, that, on these Nights Art only powerful, to whose triple Name Thus we incline, once, twice, and thrice the same; If now with Rites prophane, and foul enough, We do invoke thee; darken all this Roof, (a) These Invoca- tions are solemn with them, whereof we may see the Forms, in Ovid. Me- tam. lib.7. in Sen. Trag.Med. in Luc. lib. 6. which of all is the bol- dest and most hor- rid: be- ginning, Eumeni- des, Stygi- umque ne- fas pœnæ- que nocen- tum, &c. (b) The untying of their knots is, when they are going to some fatal business: as Sagana is presented by Horace. Expedita, per totam domum Spar- gens Avernaleis aquas, Horret capillis ut marinus asperis Echinus, aut currens Aper. (c) Hecate, who is called Trivia, and Triformis, of whom Virgil. Æneid. lib. 4. Tergeminamque Hecatem, tria virginis ora Dia- næ. She was believ'd to govern in witchcraft; and is remembred in all their Invocations: See Theoc. in Pharmaceut. cair Ekata das- plhti, & Medea in Senec. Meis vocata sacris noctium sidus veni, Pessi- mos induta vultus: Fronte non una minax. And Ericht. in Luc. Perse- phone, nostræque Hecatis pars ultima, &c. [column break] With present Fogs. Exhale Earths rot'nest Vapors. And strike a Blindness through these blazing Tapers. Come, let a murmuring Charm resound, The whilst we (d) bury all, i'th' Ground. But first, see every (e) Foot be bare; And every Knee.   Hag. Yes, Dame, they are. (d) This Rite of burying their Ma- terials, is often confest in Remig. and describ'd amply in Hor. Sat. 8. lib. Utque Lupi barbam variæ cum dente colubræ Abdiderint furtim terris, &c. (e) The Ceremony also, of baring their feet, is expressed by Ovid. Metamorph. lib. 7. as of their hair. Egreditur tectis vestes induta recinctas, Nuda pedem, nudos humeris infusa capillos. And Ho- rac. ibid. Pedibus nudis passoque capillo. And Senec. in Tragœd. Med. Tibi more Gentis, vinculo solvens comam Secreta nudo nemora lustravi pede. 4  C H A R M. D Eep, (f) O deep, we lay thee to sleep;  We leave thee Drink by, if thou chance to be dry; Both Milk and Blood, the Dew, and the Flood. We breathe in thy Bed, at the foot and the head; We cover thee warm, that thou take no harm: And when thou dost wake, Dame Earth shall quake, And the Houses shake, And her Belly shall ake, As her Back were brake, Such a Birth to make, As is the blue Drake: Whose form thou shalt take. (f) Here they speak, as if they were creating some new feature, which the Devil per- swades them to be able to do, often, by the pronoun- cing of words, and pouring out of liquors, on the earth. Hear what Agrippa says, De occul. Phil. lib. 4. near the end. In evocationibus um- brarum fumig amus cum sanguine recenti, cum ossibus mortuorum & car- ne, cum ovis, lacte, melle, oleo, & similibus, quæ aptum medium tribuunt animabus, ad sumenda corpora; and a little before. Namque ani- mæ cognitis mediis, per quæ quondam corporibus suis conjungebantur, per similes vapores, liquores, nidoresque facile alliciuntur. Which Doctrine he had from Apuleius, without all doubt, or question, who in lib. 3. de Asin. aureo, publisheth the same. Tunc decantatis spiranti- bus fibris litat vario latice; nunc rore fontano, nunc lacte vaccino, nunc melle montano, libat & muliâ. Sic illos capillos in mutuos nexus obditos, atque nodatos, cum multis odoribus dat vivis carbonibus adolen- dos. Tunc protinus inexpugnabili Magicæ Disciplinæ potestate, & cæca numinum coactorum violentia, illa corpora quorum fumabant stridentes capilli, spiritum mutuantur humanum & sentiunt, & audiunt, & am- bulant. Et qua nidor suarum ducebat exuviarum veniunt. All which are meer Arts of Satan, when either himself will delude them with a false form, or troubling a dead body, makes them imagine these va- nities the means: as in the ridiculous circumstances that follow, he doth daily. D A M E. N Ever a Star yet shot?  Where be the Ashes?   Hag. Here i'th' Pot.       Dam. (g) Cast them up; and the Flint-stone Over the left Shoulder-bone: Into the West,   Hag. It will be best. (b) This throwing of ashes, and sand, with the flint-stone, cross sticks, and burying of Sage, &c. are all us'd (and believ'd by them) to the raising of storm, and tempest. See Remig. lib. 1. Dæmon. cap. 25. Nider. Formicari. cap. 4. Bodin. Dæmon. lib. 2. cap. 8. And hear Codelman. lib. 2. cap. 6. Nam quan- do Dæmoni grandines ciendi potestatem facit Deus, tum Maleficas in- struit, ut quandoque silices post tergum in occidentem versus projiciant, aliquando ut arenam aquæ torrentis, in aërem conjiciant, plerumque scopas in aquam intingant, cœlumque versus spargant, vel fossulâ factâ & io io infuso, vel aquâ digitum moveant: subinde in ollà parcorum pilos bulliant, nonnunquam trabes vel ligna in ripa transversè collocent, & alia id genus deliramenta efficiant. And when they see the success, they are more confirm'd, as if the Event followed their working. The like illusion is of their phantasie, in failing in egg-shells, creeping tho- row augur-holes, and such like, so vulgar in their Confessions. 5  C H A R M. T He Sticks are a-cross, there can be no loss,  The Sage is rotten, the Sulphur is gotten Up to the Sky, that was i'th' ground. Follow it then, with our Rattles, round; Under

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350 Masques.                     Under the Bramble, over the Brier, A little more heat will set it on Fire: Put it in mind, to do it kind, Flow Water and blow Wind. Rouncy is over, Robble is under, A flash of Light, and a clap of Thunder, A storm of Rain, another of Hail. We all must home, i'the Egg-shell sail; The Mast is made of a great Pin, The takle of Cobweb, the sail as thin, And if we go through and not fall in — D A M E. (a) S Tay. All our Charms do nothing win              Upon the Night; our labour dies! Our Magick-feature will not rise; Nor yet the storm! We must repeat More direful voices far, and beat The ground with Vipers, till it sweat.        (a) This stop, or interrup- tion shew- ed the better, by causing that gene- ral silence, which made all the following Noises, enforced in the next Charm, more direful, first imitating that of Lucan. Miratur Erich- tho Has fatis licuisse moras; irataque morti Verberat immotum vivo serpente cadaver, and then their barking, howling, hissing, and con- fusion of noise expressed by the same Author, in the same person. Tunc vox Lethæos cunctis pollentior herbis Excantare deos, confodit murmura primùm. Dissona & humanæ multùm discordia linguæ. Latratus ha- bet illa canum, gemitusque, luporum, Quod trepidus bubo quod strix nocturna queruntur, Quod strident ululantque feræ, quod sibilat anguis. Exprimit & planctus illisæ cautibus undæ, Sylvarumque sonum, fractæ- que tonitrua nubis. Tot rerum vox una fuit. See Remig. too, Dæmo- nolat. lib. 1. cap. 19. 6  C H A R M. B Ark Dogs, Wolves howl,  Seas roar, Woods roul, Clouds crack, all be black, But the light our Charms do make. D A M E. N O T yet? my Rage begins to swell;  Darkness, Devils, Night, and Hell, Do not thus delay my Spell. I call you once, and I call you twice; I beat you again, if you stay my thrice: Thorough these Cranies where I peep, I'le (b) let in the light to see your sleep. And all the Secrets of your sway Shall lie as open to the Day, As unto me. Still are you deaf? Reach me a Bough, (c) that ne're bare leaf, To strike the Air; and (d) Aconite, To hurl upon this glaring light; A (e) rusty Knife, to wound mine Arm; And, as it drops, I'le speak a Charm, Shall cleave the ground, as low as lies Old shrunk-up Chaos, and let rise, Once more, his dark, and reeking head, To strike the World, and Nature dead, Until my Magick birth be bred.                (b) This is one of their common menaces, when their Ma- gick re- ceives the least stop. Hear E- richtho a- gain, ibid. tibi pessi- me mundi Arbiter immittam ruptis Titana cavernis, Et subito feriere die. And a little before to Proserpina. Eloquar immenso terræ sub pondere quæ te contineant En- næa dapes, &c. (c) That withered straight, as it shot out, which is called Ramus feralis by some, and tristis, by Senec. Trag. Med. (d) A deadly poysonous herb, feigned by Ovid. Metam. lib. 7. to spring out of Cerberus's foam. Pliny gives it another beginning of name. Nat. Hist. lib. 27. cap. 3. Nascitur in nudis cautibus, quas aconas vocant, & inde aconitum dixere, nullo juxtâ ne pulvere quidem nutriente. How- soever the juice of it is like that liquor which the Devil gives Witches to sprinkle abroad, and do hurt, in the opinion of all the Magick Masters. (e) A rusty Knife I rather give her, than any other, as fit- test for such a devilish Ceremony, which Seneca might mean by sacro cultro in the Tragedy, where he arms Medea, to the like Rite, (for any thing I know) Tibi nudato pectore Mœnas, sacro feriam Brachia cul- tro: Manet noster sanguis ad aras. [column break] 7  C H A R M.                   B Lack go in, and blacker come out;  At thy going down, we give thee a shout.         (f) Hoo! At thy rising again, thou shalt have two, And if thou dost what we would have thee do, Thou shalt have three, thou shalt have four, Thou shalt have ten, thou shalt have a score. Hoo. Har. Har. Hoo! (f) These shouts and clamors, as also the voice Har. Har. are very par- ticular with them, by the testimony of Bodin Remig. Delrio. and M. Phil. Ludwi- gus, Elich. who out of them reports it, thus. Tota turba colluviesque pessima fescenninos in honorem Dæmonum cantat obscœnissimos: Hæc canit Har. Har. Illa, Diabolo, Diabole, salta huc, salta illuc; Altera, lude hic, lude illic; Alia, Sabaath, Sabaath, &c. Imò clamoribus, sibi- lis, ululatibus, popysmis furit, ac debacchatur: pulveribus, vel venenis ac- ceptis quæ hominibus pecudibusque spargant. 8  C H A R M.                   A  Cloud of Pitch, a Spur, and a Switch, To haste him away, and a Whirlwind play, Before, and after, which thunder for laughter, And storms for joy, of the roaring Boy; His head of a Drake, his tail of a Snake. 9  C H A R M.                   A Bout, about, and about,  Till the Mist arise, and the Lights flie out,         The Images neither be seen, nor felt; The Woollen burn, and the Waxen melt; Sprinkle your Liquors upon the ground, And into the Air; around, around. Around, around, Around, around, (g) Till a Musick sound, And the pase be found, To which we may dance, And our Charms advance. (g) Nor do they want musick, and in strange manner given them by the Devil, if we credit their Confessions in Re- mig. Dæm. lib. 1. cap. 19. Such as the Syrbenæan Quires were, which Athenæus remembers out of Clearchus, Deipnos. lib. 15. where every one sung what he would, without hearkning to his Fellow; like the noise of divers Oars, falling in the water. But be patient of Remigius Relation. Miris modis illîc miscentur, ac turbantur omnia, nec ullâ ora- tione satis exprimi queat, quàm strepant sonis inconditis, absurdis, ac discrepantibus. Canit hic Dæmon ad tibiam, vel veriùs ad contum, aut baculum aliquod, quod fortè humi repertum, buccam ceu tibiam admo- vet. Ille pro lyra equi calvariam pulsat, ac digitis concrepat. Alius fuste vel clavâ graviore quercum tundit unde exauditur sonus, ac boatus veluti tympanorum vehementiùs pulsatorum. Intercinunt rancidè, & composito ad litui morem clangore Dæmones, ipsumque cœlum fragosa aridaque voce feriunt. A T which, with a strange, and sudden Musick they fell into a (h) magical Dance, full of preposterous change, and gesticulation, but most apply- ing to their Property; who at their meetings, do all things contrary to the custom of Men, dancing back to back, and hip to hip, their hands joined, and ma- king their circles backward, to the left hand, with strange phantastick motions of their heads, and bo- dies. All which were excellently imitated by the ma- ker of the Dance, M. Hierome Herne, whose right it is here to be named. (h) The manner also of their dan- cing is confest in Bodin lib. 2. cap. 4. And Re- mig. lib. 1. cap. 17. and 18. The sum of which M. Phil. Lud. Elich. relates thus, in his Dæmonom. Quæst. 10. Tripudiis interdum intersunt facie liberâ & apertâ, interdum abductâ larvâ, linteo, cortice, reticulo, peplo, vel alio velamine, aut farrinario excerniculo involutâ. And a little after. Omnia fiunt ritu absurdis- simo, & ab omni consuetudine hominum alienissimo, dorsis invicem obver- sis, & in orbem junctis manibus, saltando circumeunt, perinde sua jactan- tes capita, ut qui œstro agitantur. Remigius adds out of the Confes- sion of Sybilla Morelia, Gyrum sempor in lævam progredi. Which Pliny observes in the Priests of Cybile. Nat. Hist. lib. 28. cap. 2. and to be done with great Religion. Bodin adds, that they use brooms in their hands, with which we armed our Witches; and here we leave them. In

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Masques. 351 I N the heat of their Dance, on the sudden, was heard a  sound of loud Musick, as if many Instruments had made one blast; with which not only the Haggs themselves, but the Hell, into which they ran, quite vanished, and the whole face of the Scene altered, scarce suffering the memory of such a thing: But in the place of it, appeared a glorious, and magnificent Building, figuring the House of Fame, in the top of which, were disco- vered the twelve Masquers, sitting upon a Throne triumphal, erected in form of a Pyramid, and circled with all store of light. From whom a Person, by this time descended, in the fur- niture of Perseus, and expressing heroique, and masculine Ver- tue, began to speak. HEROICK VERTUE. S O should, at Fame's loud sound, and Vertue's sight,  All dark, and envious Witchcraft flie the light. I (a) did not borrow Hermes Wings, nor ask His crooked Sword, nor put on Pluto's Cask, (a) The Ancients express'd a brave and masculine Vertue in three Figures (of Hercules, Perseus, and Bellerophon.) Of which we chuse that of Perseus, armed as we have described him, out of Hesiod. Scuto Herc. See Apollodor. the Grammarian, lib. 2. de Perseo.                       Nor on mine arm, advanc'd wise Pallas shield, (By which, my Face avers'd, in open field I flew the Gorgon) for an empty Name: When Virtue cut off Terror, he gate Fame. And, if when Fame was gotten, Terror dy'de, What black Erynnis, or more hellish pride, Durst arm these Haggs, now she is grown, and great, To think they could her glories once defeat? I was her Parent, and I am her strength. Heroique Virtue sinks not under length Of years, or ages; but is still the same, While he preserves, as when he got good Fame. My Daughter, then, whose glorious house you see Built of all sounding brass, whose Columns be Men-making Poets, and those well-made Men, Whose strife it was, to have the happiest Pen Renown them to an after-life, and not With pride, to scorn the Muse, and die forgot; She, that enquireth into all the World, And hath, about her vaulted Palace, hoorl'd All Rumors and Reports, or true, or vain, What utmost Lands, or deepest Seas contain; (But only hangs great actions, on her file) She, to this lesser World, and greatest Isle, To night sounds Honour, which she would have seen In yond' bright Bevie, each of them a Queen. Eleven of them are of times, long gone. Penthesilea, the brave Amazon, Swift-foot Camilla, Queen of Volscia, Victorious Thomyris of Scythia, Chaste Artemisia, the Carian Dame, And fair-hair'd Beronice, Ægypt's fame, Hypsicratea, glory of Asia, Candace, pride of Æthiopia, The Britain honour, Voadicea, The vertuous Palmyrene, Zenobia, The wise, and warlike Goth, Amalasunta, And bold Valasca, of Bohemia; These, in their lives, as fortunes, crownd the choice Of Woman-kind, and 'gainst all opposite voice Made good to time, had, after death, the clame To live eterniz'd in the house of Fame. Where hourly hearing (as, what there is old?) The glories of Bel-anna so well told, Queen of the Ocean; How, that she alone Possest all vertues, for which one by one They were so fam'd; And wanting then a head To form that sweet, and gracious Pyramede [column break] Wherein they sit, it being the sov'raign place Of all that Palace, and reserv'd to grace The worthiest Queen: These, without envy' on her, In life, desir'd that honour to confer, Which, with their death, no other should enjoy. She this embracing with a vertuous joy, Far from self-love, as humbling all her worth, To him that gave it, hath again brought forth Their names to memory; and means, this night, To make them once more visible to light: And to that light, from whence her truth of spirit Confesseth all the lustre of her merit. To you, most Royal, and most Happy King, Of whom, Fame's house, in every part, doth ring For every vertue; but can give no increase: Not, though her loudest Trumpet blaze your peace. To you, that cherish every great example Contracted in your self; and being so ample A field of honour, cannot but embrace A Spectacle, so full of love, and grace Unto your Court: where every Princely Dame Contends to be as bounteous of her fame To others, as her life was good to her. For, by their lives, they only did confer Good on themselves; but, by their fame, to yours, And every Age, the benefit endures.    Here, the Throne wherein they sate, being Machina versati- lis, suddenly chang'd; and in the place of it appear'd Fama bona, as she is describ'd (in Iconolog. di Cæsare Ripa) at- tir'd in white, with white wings, having a collar of gold about her neck, and a heart hanging at it: which Orus Apollo, in his Hierogl. interprets the note of a good Fame. In her right hand, Æneid.        she bore a trumpet, in her left an olive branch: And for her state, it was, as (b) Virgil describes her, at the full, her feet on the ground, and her head in the clouds. She, after the Musick had done, which waited on the turning of the Machine, call'd from thence, to Vertue, and spake this following Speech. F A M E. V Ertue, my Father, and my Honour; thou  That mad'st me good, as great; and dar'st avow No Fame, for thine, but what is perfect: Aid, To night, the triumphs of thy white-wing'd Maid. Do those renowned Queens all utmost Rites Their states can ask. This is a night of nights. In mine own Chariots let them, crowned, ride; And mine own Birds, and Beasts in geers apply'd To draw them forth. Unto the first Carr tye Far-sighted Eagles, to note Fame's sharp eye. Unto the second, Griffons, that design Swiftness and strength, two other gifts of mine. Unto the last, our Lyons, that imply The top of graces, State, and Majesty. And let those Hags be led as Captives, bound Before their wheels, whil'st I my Trumpet sound. A T which, the loud Musick sounded, as before; to give  the Masquers time of descending. And here, we cannot but take the opportunity, to make some more par- ticular description of their Scene, as also of the Persons they presented; which, though they were disposed rather by Chance, than Election, yet it is my part to justifie them all: And then, the Lady that will own her Presentation, may.    To follow, therefore, the Rule of Chronology, which I have observ'd in my Verse, the most upward in time was Penthesilea. She was Queen of the Amazons, and succeeded Ortera, or (as some will) Orithya; she liv'd, and was present, at the War of Troy on their part, against the Greeks, and (as Justin gives her testimony) Inter fortissimos viros, magna ejus virtutis documenta extitere. She is nowhere na- med,

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352 Masques.                     med, but with the Preface of Honour, and Vertue; and (a) Hist.     lib. 2. (b) Lib. 3. Eleg. 10. (c) Æneid. lib. 7. is always advanced in the head of the wor- thiest Women. (a) Diodorus Siculus makes her the daughter of Mars. She was honour'd in her death to have it the act of Achilles. Of which (b) Propertius sings this triumph to her beauty. Aurea cui postquam nudavit cassida frontem,    Vicit victorem candida forma virum.    Next, follows Camilla, Queen of the Volscians, celebrated by (c) Virgil, than whose Verses no- thing can be imagin'd more exquisite, or more honouring the person they describe. They are these, where he reckons up those, that came on Turnus his part, against Æneas. Hos super advenit Volsca de gente Camilla, Agmen agens equitum, & florenteis ære catervas, Bellatrix. Non illa colo, calathisve Minervæ Fœmineas assueta manus, sed prælia virgo Dura pati, cursuque pedum prævertere ventos. Illa vel intactæ segetis per summa volaret Gramina, nec teneras cursu læsisset aristas: Vel mare per medium, fluctu suspensa tumenti, Ferret iter, celereis nec tingeret æquore plantas.    And afterward tells her Attire, and Arms, with the admi- ration, that the Spectators had of her. All which if the Poet created out of himself, without Nature, he did but shew, how much so divine a Soul could exceed her.    The third liv'd in the age of Cyrus, the great Persian Monarch; and made him leave to live. Thomyris, Queen of the Scythians, or Massagets. A Heroine of a most invin- cible, and unbroken fortitude. Who, when Cyrus had in- vaded her, and taking her only Son (rather by Treachery than War, as she objected) had slain him; not touch'd with the grief of so great a loss, in the juster comfort she took of a great revenge, pursued not only the occasion, and honour of conquering so potent an Enemy, with whom fell two hundred thousand Soldiers: but (what was right memorable in her Victory) left not a Messenger (d) In Clo. (e) Epit. lib. 1. surviving, of his side to report the Massacre. She is remembred both by (d) Herodotus and (e) Justin, to the great renown, and glory of her kind: with this Elogy. Quod potentissimo Per- sarum Monarchæ bello congressa est, ipsumque & vita castris spoliavit, ad juste ulciscendam filii ejus indignissimam mortem.    The fourth was honour'd to life in time of Xerxes, and (f) In Polymn.    present at his great Expedition into Greece; Ar- temisia, the Queen of Caria: whose vertue (f) Herodotus, not without some wonder, records. That, a Woman, a Queen, without a Husband, her Son a ward, and she administring the Government, oc- casion'd by no necessity, but a meer excellence of spirit, should embark her self for such a War; and there, so to (g) Herod. In Urania. (h) Val. Max. lib. 4. cap. 6. and A. Gel. lib. 10. cap. 18. behave her, as Xerxes beholding her fight, should say: (g) Viri quidem extiterunt mihi fœminæ, fœmi- næ autem viri. She is no less renowned for her Chastity, and love to her Husband, Mausolus, (h) whose bones (after he was dead) she preserv'd in ashes, and drunk in Wine, making her self his Tomb; and yet, built to his memory, a Monu- ment, deserving a place among the Seven Won- ders of the World, which could not be done by less than a wonder of Women.    The fifth was the fair-hair'd Daughter of Ptolomæus Philadelphus, by the elder Arsinoe; who, married to her Brother Ptolomæus, surnamed Evergetes, was after Queen of Egypt. I find her written both Beronice, and Berenice. This Lady, upon an Expedition of her new-wedded Lord into Assyria, vowed to Venus, if he return'd safe, and Conque- ror, the offering of her hair; which Vow of hers (exacted [column break] by the success) she afterward perform'd. But, her Father missing it, and therewith displeas'd, Conon, a Mathematician, who was then in houshold with Ptolomy, and knew well to flatter him, persuaded the King that it was ta'ne up to Hea- ven, and made a Constellation; shewing him those seven Stars, ad caudam Leonis, which are since called Coma Beroni- ces. Which Story, then presently celebrated by Callima- chus, in a most elegant Poem, Catullus more elegantly con- (i) Astro- nom. lib. 2.       in Leo. (k) Catul. de Coma Beronic. verted; wherein they call her the Magnanimous, even from a Virgin: alluding (as (i) Hyginus says) to a Rescue she made of her Father in his flight, and restoring the courage and honour of his Army, even to a Victory. Their words are, (k) Cognoram à parva virgine magnanimam.    The sixth, that famous Wife of Mithridates, and Queen of Pontus, Hypsicratea, no less an Example of Vertue than the rest; who so loved her Husband, as she was assistant to (l) Lib. 4.          cap. 6. de Amor con- jug. him in all labours, and hazard of the War, in a masculine habit. For which cause (as (l) Va- lerius Maximus observes) she departed with a chief ornament of her beauty. Tonsis enim ca- pillis, equo se & armis assuefecit, quo facilius labo- ribus & periculis ejus interesset. And, afterward, in his flight from Pompey, accompanied his misfortune, with a mind, and body equally unwearied. She is solemnly registred, by that grave Author, as a notable President of Marriage- Loyalty, and Love: Vertues, that might raise a mean Per- son to equality with a Queen; but a Queen to the State, and honour of a Deity.    The seventh, that Renown of Ethiopia, Candace: from whose excellency, the succeeding Queens of that Nation were ambitious to be called so. A Woman of a most haughty spirit against Enemies, and a singular affection (m) Hist.          Rom. l. 54. (n( Nat. Hist. lib. 6. cap. 29. to her Subjects. I find her celebrated by (m) Dion, and (n) Pliny, invading Egypt in the time of Augustus; who, though she were enforc'd to a Peace by his Lieutenant Petronius, doth not the less worthily hold her place here; when, everywhere, this Elogy remains of her Fame: That she was Maximi animi mulier, tantique in suos meriti, ut omnes deinceps. Æthiopum Reginæ ejus nomine fuerint appel- latæ. She govern'd in Meroe.    The eighth, our own honour, Voadicea, or Boodicea; By some Bunduica, and Bunduca: Queen of the Iceni. A people, that inhabited that part of our Island, which was called East-Anglia, and comprehended Suffolk, Norfolk, Cambridge, and Huntington-shires. Since she was born here at home, we will first honour her with a home-born testi- (o) Ru- ines of             time. mony; from the grave and diligent (o) Spen- cer. ——— Bunduca Britoness. Bunduca, that victorious Conqueress, That lifting up her brave Heroique thought 'Bove Womans weakness, with the Romans fought; Fought, and in Field against them thrice prevail'd, &c.    To which, see her Orations in Story, made by (p) Annal.       lib. 14. (q) Epit. Joan. Xi- philon. in Ner. (p) Tacitus, and (q) Dion: wherein is expressed all magnitude of a spirit, breathing to the liber- ty and redemption of her Country. The later of whom, doth honest her beside, with a parti- cular description. Bunduica, Britannica fœmina, orta stripe Regia, quæ non solum eis cum magna dig- nitate præfuit, sed etiam bellum omne administravit; cujus ani- mina, forma honestissima, vultu severo, &c. All which doth weigh the more to her true praise, in coming from the mouths

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Masques. 353 mouths of Romans, and Enemies. She liv'd in the time of Nero.    The ninth, in time, but equal in Fame, and (the cause of it) vertue, was the chaste Zenobia Queen of the Palmy- renes, who, after the death of her husband Odenatus, had the Name to be reckoned among the XXX. that usurped the Roman Empire from Galienus. She continued a long and brave War, against several Chiefs; and was at length tri- umphed on by Aurelian: but, ea specie, ut nihil pompabilius P. Rom. videretur. Her Chastity was such, Ut ne virum suum quidem sciret, nisi tentatis conceptionibus. She liv'd in a most royal manner, and was adored to the custom of the Per- sians. When she made Orations to her Soldiers, she had al- (a) In tri- gin. Ty- rann. ways her Cask on. A Woman of a most divine spirit, and incredible beauty. In (a) Trebellius Pollio, read the most notable description of a Queen, and her; that can be utter'd, with the dignity of an Historian.    The tenth, succeeding, was that learned, and Heroique Amalasunta, Queen of the Ostrogoths, Daughter to Theodo- rick, that obtained the Principality of Ravenna, and almost all Italy. She drave the Burgundians and Almaines out of Liguria, and appear'd in her Government rather an Ex- ample, than a Second. She was the most eloquent of her Age, and cunning in all Languages, of any Nation (b) M. An- ton. Cocci. Sabel. (out of Cassiod) Ennead. 7. lib. 2. that had Commerce with the Roman Empire. (b) It is recorded of her, that, Sine veneratione eam viderit nemo, pro miraculo fuerit ipsam audire loquentem. Tantaque illi in decernendo gravitas, ut criminis convicti, cum plecterentur, nihil sibi acerbum pati viderentur.    The eleventh, was that brave Bohemian Queen, Valasca, who for her Courage, had the Surname of Bold: That to redeem her self and her Sex, from the Tyranny of Men, which they liv'd in, under Primislaus, on a night, and at an hour appointed, led on the Women to the slaughter of their barbarous Husbands and Lords. And possessing themselves of their Horses, Arms, Treasure, and places of strength, not only ruled the rest, but lived many years af- (c) In Geo- graph. l. 2. (d) Forcia. Quæst. ter, with the liberty, and fortitude of Amazons. Celebrated by (c) Raphael Volateranus, and in an elegant Tract of an Italians (d) in Latin, who names himself Philalethes, Polytopiensis civis) inter præstantissimas fœminas.    The twelv'th, and worthy Soveraign of all, I make Bel- anna, Royal Queen of the Ocean; of whose dignity and person, the whole Scope of the Invention doth speak throughout: which, to offer you again here, might but prove offence to that sacred modesty, which hears any testi- mony of others iterated, with more delight, than her own praise. She being plac'd above the need of such Cere- mony, and safe in her princely vertue, against the good, or ill, of any Witness. The Name of Bel-anna I devis'd, to honour hers proper by; as adding to it, the Attribute of Fair: And is kept by me, in all my Poems, wherein I men- tion her Majesty, with any shadow, or figure. Of which, some may come forth with a longer Destiny, than this Age, commonly, gives to the best Births, if but help'd to light by her gracious, and ripening favour.    But, here, I discern a possible Objection, arising against me; to which I must turn: As, How I can bring Persons of so different Ages, to appear properly together? Or, why (which is more unnatural) with Virgil's Mezentius, I join the living with the dead? I answer to both these, at once. Nothing is more proper; Nothing more natural. For these all live; and together, in their Fame: and so I present them. Besides, if I would fly to the all-daring power of Poetry, where could I not take Sanctuary? or in whose Poem? For other Objections, let the looks and noses of Judges hover thick; so they bring the brains: or if they do not, I care not. When I suffer'd it to go abroad, I departed with my right: And now, so secure an Interpreter I am of my chance, that neither praise, nor dispraise shall affect me.    There rests, only, that we give the Description (we pro- [column break] mis'd) of the Scene, which was the House of Fame. The Structure, and Ornament of which (as is profest before) was entirely Master Jones his Invention, and Design. First, for the lower Columns, he chose the Statues of the most excellent Poets, as Homer, Virgil, Lucan, &c. as being the substantial Supporters of Fame. For the upper, Achilles, Æneas, Cæsar, and those great Heroes, which these Poets had celebrated. All which stood, as in massy gold. Between the Pillars, underneath, were figured Land-Battels, Sea- Fights, Triumphs, Loves, Sacrifices, and all magnificent Sub- jects of Honour: in brass, and heighten'd with silver. In which, he profest to follow that noble description, made by Chaucer, of the place. Above were sited the Masquers, over whose heads he devis'd two eminent figures of Ho- nour, and Vertue, for the Arch. The Freezes, both below, and above, were fill'd with several colour'd lights, like Emeralds, Rubies, Saphyres, Carbuncles, &c. the reflex of which, with other lights, placed in the Concave, upon the Masquers habits, was full of glory. These habits had in them the excellency of all device, and riches; and were worthily varied by his Invention, to the Nations, whereof they were Queens. Nor are these, alone, his due; but divers other accessions to the strangeness, and beauty of the Spectacle: as the Hell, the going about of the Chariots, the binding the Witches, the turning Machine, with the pre- sentation of Fame. All which I willingly acknowledge for him: since it is a Vertue, planted in good Natures, that what respects they wish to obtain fruitfully from others, they will give ingenuously themselves.    By this time, imagin the Masquers descended; and again mounted into three triumphant Chariots, ready to come forth. The first four were drawn with Eagles, (whereof I gave the reason, as of the rest in Fame's Speech) their four Torch-bearers, attending on the Chariot sides, and four of the Hags, bound before them. Then followed the second, drawn by Griffons, with their Torch-bearers, and four other Hags. Then the last, which was drawn by Lyons, and more eminent; (wherein her Majesty was) and had six Torch-bearers more, (peculiar to her) with the like number of Hags. After which, a full triumphant Musick, singing this Song, while they rode, in State, about the Stage. S O N G. H Elp, help all Tongues, to celebrate this Wonder:  The voice of Fame should be as loud as Thunder.         Her House is all of Eccho made,             Where never dies the sound;         And, as her Brows the Clouds invade,             Her Feet do strike the Ground. Sing then good Fame, that's out of Vertue born: For, who doth Fame neglect, doth Vertue scorn.    Here they lighted from their Chariots, and danc'd forth their first Dance; then a second, immediately following it: both right curious, and full of subtile and excellent chan- ges, and seem'd perform'd with no less spirits, than of those they personated. The first was to the Cornets, the second to the Violins. After which, they took out the Men, and danc'd the measures; entertaining the time, almost to the space of an hour, with singular variety: when, to give them rest, from the Musique which attended the Chariots, by that most excellent Tenor voice, and exact Singer (her Ma- jesties Servant, Master Jo. Allin) this Ditty was sung. S O N G. W Hen all the Ages of the Earth  Were crown'd, but in this famous Birth; And that, when they would boast their store Of worthy Queens, they knew no more: How happier is that Age, can give A Queen, in whom all they do live. Z z                             After

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After it, succeeded their third Dance; than which, a more numerous composition could not be seen: Graphi- cally disposed into Letters, and honouring the name of the most sweet and ingenious Prince, C H A R L E S, Duke of York. Wherein, beside that principal grace of perspi- cuity, the motions were so even and apt, and their expres- sion so just; as if Mathematicians had lost Proportion, they might there have found it. The Author was Master Tho. Giles. After this, they danc'd Galliards, and Corranto's. And then their last Dance, no less elegant (in the place) than the rest, with which they took their Chariots again, and triumphing about the Stage, had their return to the House of Fame celebrated with this last Song; whose Notes (as the former) were the work, and honour of my ex- cellent Friend, Alfonso Ferrabosco. S O N G. W H O, Vertue, can thy power forget,  That sees these live, and triumph yet? [column break] Th' Assyrian Pomp, the Persian Pride, Greeks Glory, and the Romans di'de:       And who yet imitate Their Noises, tarry the same Fate.       Force greatness all the glorious ways       You can, it soon decays;       But so good Fame shall never: Her Triumphs, as their Causes, are for ever.    To conclude which, I know no worthier way of Epilogue, than the Celebration of who were the Celebra- ters. The QUEENS MAJESTY.  |   |   The Co. of MONTGOMERY. The Co. of ARUNDEL.  |   |   The Vicou. of CRANBORNE. The Co. of DERBY.  |   |   The La. ELIZA. GUILFORD. The Co. of HUNTINGTON.  |   |   The La. ANNE WINTER. The Co. of BEDFORD.  |   |   The La. WINDSORE. The Co. of ESSEX.  |   |   The La. ANNE CLIFFORD.