They did, and night is come; and yet we fee
Formalities retarding thee.
What mean these ladies, which (as though
They were to take a clock in pieces) go
So nicely about the bride?
A bride, before a good-night could be faid,
Should vanish from her clothes into her bed,
As fouls from bodies steal, and are not spy'd.
But now he's laid: what though the be?
Yet there are more delays; for where is he?
He comes, and paffeth through sphere after sphere;
Firft her fheets, then her arms, then any where.
Let not this day, then, but this night, be thine;
Thy day was but the eve to this, O Valentine!
Here lies a fhe fun, and he a moon there;
She gives the best light to his sphere;
Or each is both, and all, and fo
They unto one another nothing owe:
And yet they do; but are
So juft and rich in that coin which they pay,
That neither would, nor needs, forbear nor stay;
Neither defires to be fpar'd nor to spare:
They quickly pay their debt, and then
Take no acquittances, but pay again :
They pay, they give, they lend, and fo let fall
No occafion to be liberal.
More truth, more courage, in these two do fhine
Than all thy turtles have, and fparrows, Valentine!
And by this act of these two phoenixes
Nature again restored is;
For fince these two are two no more,
There's but one phoenix ftill, as was before.
Reft now, at laft, and we
(As Satyrs watch the fun's uprife) will stay
Waiting when your eyes opened let out day,
Only defired, becaufe your face we fee;
Others near you fhall whifp'ring fpeak,
And wagers lay, at which fide day will break,
And win, by obferving then whofe hand it is
That opens firft a curtain, her's or his.
This will be try'd to-morrow after nine,
Till which hour we thy day enlarge, O Valentine!
THE fun-beams in the Eaft are fpread, Leave, leave, fair Bride! your folitary bed;
Daughters of London! you which be
Our golden mines and furnish'd treasury;
You which are angels, yet fill bring with you
Thousands of angels on your marriage days,
Help with your presence, and devise to praise
Thefe rites, which alfo unto you grow due ;
Conceitedly drefs her, and be affign'd
By you fit place for every flower and jewel;
Make her for Love fit fuel
As gay as Flora, and as rich as Inde;
So may fhe, fair and rich, in nothing lame,
To-day put on perfection and a woman's name.
And you, frolic Patricians !
Sons of thofe fenators, wealth's deep occans;
Ye painted Courtiers! barrels of others' wits,
Ye Country men! who but your beasts love none;
Ye of thofe fellowships, whereof he's one,
Of study and play made strange hermaphrodites,
Here fhine; this bridegroom to the temple bring,
Lo! in yon' path which store of strow'd flow'rs
graceth,
The fober virgin paceth;
Except my fight fail 't is no other thing:
Weep not, nor bluth, here is no grief nor fhame; To day put on perfection and a woman's name.
Thy two-leav'd gates fair Temple! unfold,
And these two in thy facred bosom hold,
Till mystically join'd but one they be;
Then may thy lean and hunger-starved womb
Long time expect their bodies and their tomb,
Long after their own parents fatten thee.
All elder claims, and all cold barrennefs,
All yielding to new loves be far for ever,
Which might these two diffever,
Always all th' other may each one poffefs;
For the best bride, beft worthy of praise and fame,
To day puts on perfection and a woman's name.
Winter days bring much delight, None for themselves, but for they foon bring night;
Other fweets wait thee than thefe diverfe meats,
Other difports than dancing jollities,
Other love-tricks than glancing with the eyes;
But that the fun fill in our half fphere fweats;
He flies in winter, but he now stands ftill,
Yet fhadows turn; noon-point he hath attain'd,
His fteeds will be reftrain'd,
But gallop lively down the western hill: [frame,
Thou fhalt, when he hath run the heav'ns half
To-night put on perfection and a woman' sname.
The amorous evening-star is rose,
Why then should not our amorous star inclose
Herself in her with'd bed? Release your strings,
Muficians! and, Dancers! take fome truce
With these your pleafing labours; for great use
As much wearinefs as perfection brings.
You, and not only you but all toil'd beast
Reft duly; at night all their toils are difpenf'd;
But in their beds commenc'd
Are other labours, and more dainty feasts.
She goes a maid who, left she turn the fame,
To-night puts on perfection and a woman's
Thy virgin's girdle now untie,
And in thy nuptial bed (Love's altar) lie
A pleafing facrifice; now difpoffefs
Thee of these chains and robes which were put on
T' adorn the day, not thee; for thou alone,
Like Virtue and Truth, are best in nakedness;
VOL. IV.
This bed is only to virginity
A grave, but to a better ftate a cradle; Till now thou waft but able
To be what now thou art; then that by thee
No more be faid I may be, but I am,
To-night put on perfection and a woman's name.
Ev'n like a faithful man, content
That this life for a better should be spent,
So the a mother's rich style doth prefer,
And at the bridegroom's wifh'd approach doth
Like an appointed lamb, when tenderly
The priest comes on his knees t' imbowel her.
Now fleep or watch with more joy; and, oh!
light
Of heav'n! to-morrow rife thou hot and early,
This fun will love so dearly
Her reft, that long, long, we shall want her fight.
Wonders are wrought; for fhe which had no
To-night puts on perfection and a woman's name. B
Allophanes finding Idios in the country in Christmas-time, reprehends his abfence from Court at the marriage of the Earl of Somerset: Idios gives an account of his purpose therein, and of his actions there.
NABLE man! ftatue of ice!
What could to country's folitude entice
Thee in this year's cold and decrepit time?
Nature's inftinct draws to the warmer clime
Ev'n fmaller birds who by that courage dare
In numerous fleets fail through their fea, the air.
What delicacy can in fields appear,
Whilft Flora herself doth a frieze jerkin wear?
Whilft winds do all the trees and hedges frip
Of leaves, to furnish rods enough to whip
Thy madness from thee, and all fprings by froft
Having tak'n cold and their sweet murmurs
If thou thy faults or fortunes wouldft lament
With just folemnity, do it in Lent.
At court the fpring already advanced is,
The fun flays longer up; and yet not his
The glory is; far other, other fires:
Moft other courts, alas! are like to hell,
Where in dark plots fire without light doth
dwell;
Or but like ftoves, for luft and envy get
Continual but artificial heat
Here zeal and love, grown one, all clouds digeft,
And make our court an everlasting Eaft;
And canst thou be from thence ?
Idios. No, I am there :
As heav'n to men difpos'd, is ev'ry where;
So are those courts whofe princes animate
Not only all their houfe but all their state.
loft?Let no man think, because he's full, he 'hath all :
Kings (as their pattern, God) are liberal
Not only in fulness but capacity,
Enlarging narrow men to feel and fee,
And comprehend the bleflings they bestow.
So reclus'd hermits oftentimes do know
More of heav'n's glory than a wordling can.
As man is of the world, the heart of man
Is an epitome of God's great book
Firft zcal to prince and state, then love's defires, Burn in one breast, and, like heav'ns two great lights,
The firft doth govern days, the other nights:
And then that early light which did appear
Before the fun and moon created were,
The prince's favour, is diffus'd o'er all,
From which all fortunes, names, and natures, fall;
Then from thofe wombs of ftars, the bride's bright
Of creatures, and men need no farther look ;
So's the country of courts, where fweet peace doth
As their own common foul, give life to both:
And am I then from court?
Allophanes. Dreamer! thou art :
Think' thou, fantaftic! that thou hast a part
In the Indian fleet, because thou hast
A little fpice or amber in thy taste?
Because thou art not frozen, art thou warm?
Seft thou all good, becaufe thou feeft no harm?
The earth doth in her inner bowels hold
Stuff well difpos'd, and which would fain be gold,
But never thell, except it chance to lie
o upward, that Heav'n gild it with his eye.
As for divine things, faith comes from above,
So, for belt civil ufe all tinctures move
From higher powers; from God religion fprings,
Wildon and honour from the use of kings;
Then unbeguile thyself, and know with me,
The angels, though on earth employ'd they be,
Are all in heav'n; fo is he ftill at home
That dich abroad to honeft actions come.
Chide thyfelf then, O fool! which yefterday
Might'ft have read more than all thy books be-
Haf thou a hiftory which doth present
A court where all affections do affent
Unto the king's, and that king's are just?
And where it is no levity to trust,
Where there is no ambition but t'obey,
Where men need whisper nothing and yet may;
Where the king's favours are so plac'd, that all
Find that the king therein is liberal
To them, in him, becaufe his favours bend
To virtue, to the which they all pretend?
Tas hat no fuch, yet here was this, and more;
An carne lover, wife then, and before.
Our little Cupid hath fued livery,
And is no more in his minority;
He is admitted now into that breast
Where the king's counfels and his fecrets rest.
What at thou loft? O ignorant man!
M. I knew
All this and only therefore I withdrew.
To know and feel all this, and not to have
Words to exprefs it, makes a man a grave
Of his own thoughts: I would not therefore stay
At a great feast, having no grace to say;
And yet l'cap'd not here; for being come
Fill of the common joy, I utter'd fome.
ad then this nuptial-fong, which was not made
Litter the court or men's hearts to invade ;
Bence I'm dead and buried I could frame.
Ne sprach which might advance my fame
Seth as this poor long, which testifies
dd to that day fome facrifice,
1. The time of the Marriage.
To art repriev'd, old Year! thou shalt not die,
The then upon thy death-bed lie,
And bed within five days expire;
Yet the art refcu'd from a mightier fire
Than thy old foul, the fun,
When he doth in his largest circle run.
The page of the Well or Eaft would thaw,
And open wide their eafy liquid jaw
To all our hips, could a Promethean art
Eder at the northern pole impart
The fire of thefe inflaming eyes, or of this loving
But, sadifcerning Mufe! which heart, which eyes,
1 thenew couple doft thou prize,
When his eye as inflaming is
her's, and her heart loves as well as his ?
try'd by beauty, and then
We bridegroom
is a maid, and not a man ;
that mar ly courage they be try'd
Whforas unjust opinion, then the bride
Bcomes a man: fhould chance or envy's art
Divide these two, whom nature fcarce did part,
Since both have the inflaming eye, and both the
loving heart?
III. Raifing of the Bridegroom.
THOUGH it be fome divorce to think of you
Single fo much one are you two,
Let me here contemplate thee
First, cheerful Bridegroom and first let me fee
How thou prevent'it the fun,
And his red foaming horfes doft outrun ;
How, having laid down in thy fovereign's breaft
All bufineffes, from thence to reinvest
Them, when these triumphs ceafe, thou forward
To fhew to her, who doth the like impart.
The fire of thy inflaming eyes, and of thy loving
heart.
IV. Raifing of the Bride.
But now to thee, fair Bride! it is fome wrong
To think thou wert in bed fo long;
Since foon thou lieft down first, 'tis fit
Thou in first rising should allow for it.
Powder thy radiant hair,
Which if without fuch afhes thou wouldst wear,
Thou who, to all which come to look upon,
Wert meant for Phœbus, wouldft be Phaeton.
For our cafe give thine eyes th' unusual part
Of joy, a tear! fo quencht, thou may'st impart
To us that come thy 'nflaming eyes, to him thy
loving heart.
V. Her Apparelling.
THUз thou defcend'ft to our infirmity,
Who can the fun in water fee;
So dost thou when in filk and gold
Thou cloud'it thyfelf; fince we which do behold
Are duft and worms, 'tis juft
Our objects be the fruits of worms and duft.
Let ev'ry jewel be a glorious ftar,
Yet ftars are not fo pure as their spheres are;
And though thou ftoop t' appear to us in part,
Still in that picture thou entirely art,
Which thy inflaming eyes have made within his loving heart.
VI. Going to the Chapel.
Now from your eaft you iffue forth, and we,
As men which through a cypress fee
The rifing fun, do think it two;
So as you go to church do think of you:
But that vail being gone,
By the church rites you are from thenceforth one.
The church triumphant made this match before,
And now the militant doth ftrive no more.
Then, reverend Prieft! who God's recorder art,
Do from his dictates to thefe two impart
All bleflings which are feen, or thought, by an
gels eye or heart.
VII. The Fenediction.
BLEST pair of Swans! oh! may you interbring
Daily new joys, and never fing:
Live till all grounds of wishes fail,
Till honour, yea, till wisdom, grow so stale,
That new great heights to try,
It must serve your ambition to die,
Raife heirs, and may here to the world's end live
Heirs from this king to take thanks, you to give.
Nature and grace do all, and nothing art.
May never age or error overthwart
With any west these radiant eyes, with any north this heart.
VIII. Feafs and Revels.
BUT you are over-bleft: plenty this day
Injures; it caufeth time to stay :
The tables groan, as though this feaft
Would, as the flood, deftroy all fowl and beast. And were the doctrine new
X. The Bridegroom's Coming.
As he that fees a ftar fall runs apace,
And finds a gelly in the place;
So doth the bridegroom hafte as much,
Being told this ftar is fall'n, and finds her fuch.
And as friends may look firange
By a new fashion or apparel's change.
Their fouls, though long acquainted they had been,
These clothes their bodies never yet had seen :
Therefore at firft fhe modeftly might start,
But must forthwith furrender every part
As freely as each to each before gave either hand
or heart.
Now, as in Tullia's tomb one lamp burnt clear,
Unchang'd for fifteen hundred year.
In warmth, light, lafting equal the divine!
Fire ever doth afpire,
That the earth mov'd, this day would make it true; May thefe love-lamps we here enfhrine
For every part to dance and revel goes;
They tread the air, and fall not where they rofe.
Though fix hours fince the fun to bed did part,
The masks and banquets will not yet impart
A funfet to thefe weary eyes, a centre to this
IX. The Bride's going to Bed.
WHAT mean'ft thou, Bride! this company to keep?
To fit up till thou fain would fleep?
Thou may'ft not when thou'rt laid do fo :
Thyself must to him a new banquet grow,
And you must entertain,
And do all this day's dances o'er again,
Know, that if fun and moon together do
Rife in one point, they do not et fo too :
Therefore thou may'ft fair Bride! to bed depart!
Thou art not gone being gone; where'er thou art
Thou leav'it in him thy watchful eyes, in him thy
loving heart.
And makes all like itself, turns all to fire,
But ends in afhes; which thefe cannot do,
For none of thefe is fuel, but fire too.
This is joy's bonfire then, where love's ftrong arts
Make of fo noble individual parts,
One fire of four inflaming eyes and of two loving hearts.
Idios. As I have brought this fong, that I may do
A perfect facrifice, I'll burn it too.
Alloph. No, Sir, this paper I have justly got,
For in burnt incenfe the perfume is not
His only that prefents it, but of all.
Whatever celebrates this feftival
Is common, fince the joy thereof is fo.
Nor may yourself be prieft; but let me gq
Back to the court, and I will lay 't upon
Such altars as prize your devotion.
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