Part 12
We must confess that we have vented ware Not always vendable: masques are more rare Than plays are common; at most but twice a-year In their most glorious shapes do they appear; Which, if you please accept, we’ll keep in store Our debted loves, and thus entreat you more; Invert the proverb now, and suffer not That which is seldom seen be soon forgot.
PART OF THE ENTERTAINMENT TO KING JAMES, &c.
_The Magnificent Entertainment: Giuen to King James, Queene Anne his wife, and Henry Frederick the Prince, vpon the day of his Maiesties Tryumphant Passage (from the Tower) through his Honourable Citie (and Chamber) of London, being the 15. of March. 1603. As well by the English as by the Strangers: With the speeches and Songes, deliuered in the seuerall Pageants. Mart. Templa Deis, mores populis dedit, otia ferro,_
_Astra suis, Cælo sydera, serta Joui. Tho. Dekker._
_Imprinted at London by T. C. for Tho. Man the yonger._ 1604. 4to.
Of this pageant (which is reprinted in Nichols’s _Prog. of King James_, vol. i. p. 337,) Middleton wrote only the speech of Zeal (see p. 210); but in order to make that speech intelligible, I have given a portion of the prose description which precedes it.
PART OF THE
ENTERTAINMENT TO KING JAMES,
&c.
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Our next arch of triumph was erected above the Conduit in Fleet Street, into which, as into the long and beauteous gallery of the city, his Majesty being entered, afar off—as if it had been some swelling promontory, or rather, some enchanted castle guarded by ten thousand harmless spirits—did his eye encounter another tower of pleasure
Presenting itself,
Fourscore and ten foot in height, and fifty in breadth; the gate twenty foot in the perpendicular line, and fourteen in the ground line: the two posterns were answerable to these that are set down before: over the posterns, viz. up in proportionable measures, two turrets with battlements on the tops. The middest of the building was laid open to the world, and great reason it should be so, for the Globe of the world was there seen to move, being filled with all the degrees and states that are in the land; and these were the mechanical and dead limbs of this carved body. As touching those that had the use of motion in it, and for a mind durst have spoken, but that there was no stuff fit for their mouths.
The principal and worthiest was ASTRÆA (Justice), sitting aloft, as being newly descended from heaven, gloriously attired, all her garments being thickly strewed with stars; a crown of stars on her head, a silver veil covering her eyes. Having told you that her name was Justice, I hope you will not put me to describe what properties[273] she held in her hands, sithence[274] every painted cloth[275] can inform you.
Directly under her, in a cant[276] by herself, was ARETE (Virtue), enthroned, her garments white, her head crowned; and under her, FORTUNA, her foot treading on the Globe that moved beneath her, intimating that his Majesty’s fortune was above the world, but his virtues above his fortune.
INVIDIA,
Envy, unhandsomely attired all in black, her hair of the same colour, filleted about with snakes, stood in a dark and obscure place by herself, near unto Virtue, but making shew of a fearfulness to approach her and the light, yet still and anon casting her eyes sometimes to the one side beneath, where, on several greeces,[277] sat the Four Cardinal Virtues,
{ JUSTITIA, } { FORTITUDO, } In habiliments fitting Viz. { TEMPERANTIA, } to their natures; { PRUDENTIA, }
and sometimes throwing a distorted and repining countenance to the other opposite seat, on which his Majesty’s Four Kingdoms were advanced,
{ ENGLAND, Viz. { SCOTLAND, { FRANCE, { IRELAND,
all of them in rich robes and mantles; crowns on their heads, and sceptres with penciled[278] scutcheons in their hands, lined with the coats of the particular kingdoms. For very madness that she beheld these glorious objects, she stood feeding on the heads of adders.
The FOUR ELEMENTS, in proper shapes,[279] artificially and aptly expressing their qualities, upon the approach of his Majesty went round in a proportionable and even circle, touching that cantle[280] of the Globe (which was open) to the full view of his Majesty: which being done, they bestowed themselves in such comely order, and stood so as if the eronie[281] had been held up on the tops of their fingers.
Upon distinct ascensions, neatly raised within the hollow womb of the Globe, were placed all the states of the land, from the nobleman to the ploughman, among whom there was not one word to be heard, for you must imagine, as Virgil saith,
Egl. iv. } _Magnus ab integro seclorum nascitur ordo_, Astræa. } _Jam redit et virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna_,
that it was now the golden world, in which there were few parts.
All the tongues that went in this place was the tongue of Zeal, whose personage was put on by W. Bourne, one of the servants to the young Prince;
And thus went his Speech.
The populous globe of this our English isle Seem’d to move backward at the funeral pile Of her dead female majesty; all states, From nobles down to spirits of meaner fates, Mov’d opposite to nature and to peace, As if these men had been th’ Antipodes: But see the virtue of a regal eye, Th’ attractive wonder of man’s majesty! Our Globe is drawn in a right line agen,[282] And now appear new faces and new men. The Elements, Earth, Water, Air, and Fire, Which ever clipt[283] a natural desire To combat each with other, being at first Created enemies to fight their worst, See, at the peaceful presence of their King, How quietly they mov’d without their sting! Earth not devouring, Fire not defacing, Water not drowning, and the Air not chasing, But propping the quaint fabric that here stands, Without the violence of their wrathful hands. Mirror of times, lo, where thy Fortune sits, Above the world and all our human wits, But thy high Virtue above that! what pen, Or art, or brain, can reach thy virtue then? At whose immortal brightness and true light Envy’s infectious eyes have lost their sight; Her snakes, not daring to shoot forth their stings ’Gainst such a glorious object, down she flings Their forks of venom into her own maw, Whilst her rank teeth the glittering poisons chaw; For ’tis the property of Envy’s blood To dry away at every kingdom’s good, Especially when she had eyes to view These four main virtues figur’d all in you,— Justice in causes, Fortitude ’gainst foes, Temperance in spleen, and Prudence in all those: And then so rich an empire, whose fair breast Contains four kingdoms, by your entrance blest; By Brute divided, but by you alone All are again united and made one; Whose fruitful glories shine so far and even, They touch not only earth, but they kiss heaven, From whence Astræa is descended hither, Who with our last queen’s spirit fled up thither, Foreknowing on the earth she could not rest, Till you had lock’d her in your rightful breast: And therefore all estates, whose proper arts Live by the breath of majesty, had hearts Burning in holy zeal’s immaculate fires, With quenchless ardours and unstain’d desires, To see what they now see, your powerful grace Reflecting joys on every subject’s face; These painted flames and yellow burning stripes Upon this robe, being but as shows and types Of that great zeal: and therefore, in the name Of this glad city, whither no prince e’er came More lov’d, more long’d for, lowly I entreat, You’d be to her as gracious as you’re great: So with reverberate shouts our Globe shall ring, The music’s close being thus—God save our King!
If there be any glory to be won by writing these lines, I do freely bestow it, as his due, on Tho. Middleton, in whose brain they were begotten, though they were delivered here: _quæ nos non fecimus ipsi, vix ea nostra voco_.
THE TRIUMPHS OF TRUTH,
AND
THE ENTERTAINMENT AT THE OPENING OF THE NEW RIVER.
_The Triumphs of Truth. A Solemnity unparalleld for Cost, Art, and Magnificence, at the Confirmation and Establishment of that Worthy and true Nobly-minded Gentleman, Sir Thomas Middleton, Knight; in the Honorable Office of his Maiesties Lieuetenant, the Lord Maior of the thrice Famous Citty of London. Taking Beginning at his Lord-ships going, and proceeding after his Returne from receiuing the Oath of Maioralty at Westminster, on the Morrow next after Simon and Iudes day, October 29. 1613. All the Showes, Pageants, Chariots; Morning, Noone, and Night-Triumphes. Directed, Written, and redeem’d into Forme, from the Ignorance of some former times, and their Common Writer, By Thomas Middleton. Shewing also his Lordships Entertainement upon Michaelmas day last, being the day of his Election, at that most Famous and Admired Worke of the Running Streame, from Amwell-Head into the Cesterne at Islington, being the sole Cost, Industry and Inuention of the Worthy Mr. Hugh Middleton of London, Goldsmith. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes._ 1613. 4to.
Of this pageant there is an earlier edition by the same printer and with the same date, but wanting the Entertainment at the New River Head.
_The Triumphs of Truth_, &c., is reprinted in Nichols’s _Progresses of K. James_, vol. ii. p. 679.
_To the great expectation of virtue and goodness, and most worthy of all those costs and honours which the noble Fellowship and Society of Grocers, and general love of the whole City, in full-heaped bounties bestow upon him, the truly generous and judicious_ SIR THOMAS MIDDLETON, _Knight, Lord Mayor of the honourable City of London_.
As often as we shall fix our thoughts upon the Almighty Providence, so often they return to our capacities laden with admiration, either from the divine works of his mercy or those incomprehensible of his justice: but here to instance only his omnipotent mercy, it being the health and preservation of all his works; and first, not only in raising, but also in preserving your lordship from many great and incident dangers, especially in foreign countries, in the time of your youth and travels; and now, with safety, love, and triumph, to establish you in this year’s honour, crowning the perfection of your days, and the gravity of your life, with power, respect, and reverence: next, in that myself, though unworthy, being of one name with your lordship, notwithstanding all oppositions of malice, ignorance, and envy, should thus happily live, protected by part of that mercy—as if one fate did prosperously cleave to one name—now to do service to your fame and worthiness, and my pen only to be employed in these bounteous and honourable triumphs, being but shadows to those eternal glories that stand ready for deservers; to which I commend the deserts of your justice, remaining ever,
To your Lordship,
In the best of my observance,
THOMAS MIDDLETON.
THE TRIUMPHS OF TRUTH.
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Search all chronicles, histories, records, in what language or letter soever; let the inquisitive man waste the dear treasures of his time and eyesight, he shall conclude his life only in this certainty, that there is no subject upon earth received into the place of his government with the like state and magnificence as is the Lord Mayor of the city of London. This being, then, infallible—like the mistress of our triumphs—and not to be denied of any, how careful ought those gentlemen to be, to whose discretion and judgment the weight and charge of such a business is entirely referred and committed by the whole Society, to have all things correspondent to that generous and noble freeness of cost and liberality; the streams of art to equal those of bounty; a knowledge that may take the true height of such an honourable solemnity,—the miserable want of both which, in the impudent common writer, hath often forced from me much pity and sorrow; and it would heartily grieve any understanding spirit to behold, many times, so glorious a fire in bounty and goodness offering to match itself with freezing Art, sitting in darkness, with the candle out, looking like the picture of Black Monday.[284]
But, to speak truth, which many beside myself can affirm upon knowledge, a care that hath been seldom equalled, and not easily imitated, hath been faithfully shewn in the whole course of this business, both by the wardens and committees, men of much understanding, industry, and carefulness, little weighing the greatness of expense, so the cost might purchase perfection, so fervent hath been their desire to excel in that, which is a learned and virtuous ambition, and so unfeignedly pure the loves and affections of the whole Company to his lordship. If any shall imagine that I set fairer colours upon their deserts than they upon themselves, let them but read and conceive, and their own understandings will light them to the acknowledgment of their errors. First, they may here behold love and bounty opening with the morning, earlier than some of former years, ready, at the first appearing of his lordship, to give his ear a taste of the day’s succeeding glory; and thus the form of it presents itself:—
At Soper-Lane end a senate-house erected, upon which musicians sit playing; and more to quicken time, a sweet voice married to these words:
_The Song._
_Mother of many honourable sons, Think not the glass too slowly runs That in Time’s hand is set, Because thy worthy son appears not yet: Lady, be pleas’d, the hour grows on, Thy joy will be complete anon; Thou shall behold The man enroll’d In honour’s books, whom virtue raises; Love-circled round, His triumphs crown’d With all good wishes, prayers, and praises._
_What greater comfort to a mother’s heart, Than to behold her son’s desert Go hand in hand with love, Respect, and honour, blessings from above? It is of power all griefs to kill, And with a flood of joy to fill Thy aged eyes, To see him rise With glory deck’d, where expectation, Grace, truth, and fame, Met in his name, Attend[285] his honour’s confirmation._[286]
After this sweet air hath liberally spent itself, at the first appearing of the Lord Mayor from Guildhall in the morning, a trumpet placed upon that scaffold sounds forth his welcome; then, after a strain or two of music, a grave feminine shape presents itself from behind a silk curtain, representing London, attired like a reverend mother, a long white hair naturally flowing on either side of her; on her head a model of steeples and turrets; her habit crimson silk, near to the honourable garment of the city; her left hand holding a key of gold: who, after a comely grace, equally mixed with comfort and reverence, sends from her lips this motherly salutation:
_The speech of_ LONDON.
Honour and joy salute thee! I am rais’d In comfort and in love to see thee, glad And happy in thy blessings; nor esteem My words the less ’cause I a woman speak, A woman’s counsel is not always weak. I am thy mother; at that name I know Thy heart does reverence to me, as becomes A son of honour, in whose soul burn[287] clear The sacred lights of divine fear and knowledge; I know that, at this instant, all the works Of motherly love in me, shewn to thy youth, When it was soft and helpless, are summ’d up In thy most grateful mind: thou well remember’st All my dear pains and care; with what affection I cherish[’d] thee in my bosom, watchful still Over thy ways; Set wholesome and religious laws before The footsteps of thy youth; shew’d thee the way That led thee to the glory of this day,— To which, with tears of the most fruitful joy That ever mother shed, I welcome thee: O, I could be content to take my part Out of felicity only in weeping, Thy presence and this day are[288] so dear to me! Look on my age, my honourable son, And then begin to think upon thy office; See how on each side of me hang the cares Which I bestow’d on thee, in silver hairs; And now the faith, the love, the zealous fires With which I cheer’d thy youth, my age requires. The duty of a mother I have shewn, Through all the rites of pure affection, In care, in government, in wealth, in honour, Brought thee to what thou art, thou’st all from me; Then what thou shouldst be I expect from thee. Now to thy charge, thy government, thy cares, Thy mother in her age submits her years: And though—to my abundant grief I speak it, Which now o’erflows my joy—some sons I have Thankless, unkind, and disobedient, Rewarding all my bounties with neglect, And will of purpose wilfully retire Themselves from doing grace and service to me, When they’ve got all they can, or hope for, from me,— The thankfulness in which thy life doth move Did ever promise fairer fruits of love, And now they shew themselves; yet they have all My blessing with them, so the world shall see ’Tis their unkindness, no defect in me. But go thou forward, my thrice-honour’d son In ways of goodness; glory is best won When merit brings it home; disdain all titles Purchas’d with coin, of honour take thou hold By thy desert, let others buy’t with gold; Fix thy most serious thought upon the weight Thou goest to undergo, ’tis the just government Of this fam’d city,—me, whom nations call Their brightest eye; then with great care and fear Ought I to be o’erseen, to be kept clear: Spots[289] in deformed faces are scarce noted, Fair cheeks are stain’d if ne’er so little blotted. See’st thou this key of gold? it shews thy charge: This place is the king’s chamber; all pollution, Sin, and uncleanness, must be lock’d out here, And be kept sweet with sanctity, faith, and fear: I see grace take effect,—heaven’s joy upon her! ’Tis rare when virtue opes the gate to honour. My blessing be upon thee, son and lord, And on my sons all, that obey my word!
Then making her honour, as before, the Waits of the city there in service, his Lordship, and the worthy Company, are led forward toward the waterside, where you shall find the river[290] decked in the richest glory to receive him; upon whose crystal bosom stand[291] five islands, artfully garnished with all manner of Indian fruit-trees, drugs, spiceries, and the like; the middle island with a fair castle especially beautified.
But making haste to return to the city again, where triumph waits in more splendour and magnificence, the first then that attends to receive his Lordship off the water at Baynard’s-Castle, is Truth’s Angel on horseback, his raiment of white silk powdered with stars of gold; on his head a crown of gold, a trumpeter before him on horseback, and Zeal, the champion of Truth, in a garment of flame-coloured silk, with a bright hair on his head, from which shoot fire-beams, following close after him, mounted alike, his right hand holding a flaming scourge, intimating thereby that as he is the manifester of Truth, he is likewise the chastiser of Ignorance and Error.
_The salutation of the_ ANGEL.
I have within mine eye my blessèd charge: Hail, friend of Truth! safety and joy attend[292] thee; I am Truth’s Angel, by my mistress sent To guard and guide thee. When thou took’st thy oath I stood on thy right hand, though to thy eye In visible form I did not then appear; Ask but thy soul, ’twill tell thee I stood near; And ’twas a time to take care of thee then, At such a marriage, before heaven and men, Thy faith being wed to honour; close behind thee Stood Error’s minister, that still sought to blind thee, And wrap his subtle mists about thy oath, To hide it from the nakedness of Troth, Which is Truth’s purest glory; but my light, Still as it shone, expell’d her blackest spite; His mists fled by, yet all I could devise Could hardly keep them from some people’s eyes, But thine they flew from: thy care’s but begun, Wake on, the victory is not half yet won; Thou wilt be still assaulted, thou shalt meet With many dangers that in voice seem sweet, And ways most pleasant to a worldling’s eye; My mistress has but one, but that leads high. To yon triumphant city follow me, Keep thou to Truth, eternity keeps to thee.
ZEAL.
On boldly, man of honour! thou shalt win; I am Truth’s champion, Zeal, the scourge of sin.
The trumpet then sounding, the Angel and Zeal rank themselves just before his Lordship, and conduct him to Paul’s-Chain, where, in the south yard, Error in a chariot with his infernal ministers attends to assault him, his garment of ash-colour silk, his head rolled in a cloud, over which stands an owl, a mole on one shoulder, a bat on the other, all symbols of blind ignorance and darkness, mists hanging at his eyes. Close before him rides Envy, his champion, eating of a human heart, mounted on a rhinoceros, attired in red silk, suitable to the bloodiness of her manners; her left pap bare, where a snake fastens; her arms half naked; holding in her right hand a dart tincted in blood.
_The greeting of_ ERROR.