so placed, as no one was seen; but seemed as if only Reason, with the splendour of her crown, illumined the whole grot.

On the sides of this, which began the other part, were placed two great statues, feigned of gold, one of Atlas, the other of Hercules, in varied postures, bearing up the clouds, which were of relievo, embossed, and tralucent as naturals: to these a cortine of painted clouds joined, which reached to the utmost roof of the hall; and suddenly opening, revealed the three regions of air: in the highest of which sat Juno, in a glorious throne of gold, circled with comets, and fiery meteors, engendered in that hot and dry region; her feet reaching to the lowest: where was made a rainbow, and within it musicians seated, figuring airy spirits, their habits various, and resembling the several colours caused in that part of the air by reflection. The midst was all of dark and condensed clouds, as being the proper place where rain, hail, and other watery meteors are made; out of which two concave clouds from the rest thrust forth themselves (in nature of those Nimbi, wherein, by Homer, Virgil, &c., the gods are feigned to descend), and these carried the eight ladies over the heads of the two terms;1 who, as the engine moved, seemed also to bow themselves (by virtue of their shadows) and discharge their shoulders of their glorious burden: when having set them on the earth, both they and the clouds gathered themselves up again, with some rapture of the beholders.

But that, which (as above in place, so in the beauty) was most taking in the spectacle, was the sphere of fire, in the top of all, encompassing the air, and imitated with such art and industry, as the spectators might discern the motion (all the time the shows lasted) without any mover; and that so swift, as no eye could distinguish any colour of the light, but might form to itself five hundred several hues out of the tralucent body of the air, objected betwixt it and them.

And this was crowned with a statue of Jupiter the Thunderer.

1 Atlas and Hercules, the figures mentioned before.

THE BARRIERS.

On the next night, whose solemnity was of BARRIERS (all mention of the former being utterly removed and taken away), there appeared, at the lower end of the hall, a mist made of delicate perfumes; out of which (a battle being sounded under the stage) did seem to break forth two ladies, the one representing TRUTH, the other OPINION; but both so like attired, as they could by no note be distinguished. The colour of their garments was blue, their socks white; they were crowned with wreaths of palm, and in their hand each of them sustained a palm-bough. These, after the mist was vanished, began to examine each other curiously with their eyes, and approaching the State, the one expostulated the other in this manner :

Truth. Who art thou, thus that imitat'st my grace,

In steps, in habit, and resembled face?

Opin. Grave Time1 and Industry my parents are ;
My name is Truth, who, through these sounds of war,
Which figure the wise mind's discursive sight,
In mists by Nature wrapt, salute the light.

Truth. I am that Truth, thou some illusive spright;
Whom to my likeness, the black sorceress Night
Hath of these dry and empty fumes created.

Opin. Best herald of thine own birth, well related,
Put me and mine to proof of words and facts,
In any question this fair hour exacts.

Truth. I challenge thee, and fit this time of love,
With this position, which Truth comes to prove ;

1 Truth is feigned to be the daughter of Saturn: who indeed, with the ancients, was no other than time, and so his name alludes, Kpóvos. Plut. in Quæst. To which confer the Greek Adage, ἄγει δὲ πρὸς φῶς τήν ἀλήθειαν χρόνος.

That the most honoured state of man and wife,
Doth far exceed the insociate virgin life.

Opin. I take the adverse part; and she that best
Defends her side, be Truth by all confest.

Truth. It is confirmed. With what an equal brow
To Truth,1 Opinion's confident! and how
Like Truth her habit shows to sensual eyes;
But whosoe'er thou be, in this disguise,

Clear Truth, anon, shall strip thee to the heart;
And show how mere fantastical thou art.
Know, then, the first production of things
Requiréd two; from mere one nothing springs:
Without that knot the theme thou gloriest in
(The unprofitable virgin) had not been.
The golden tree of marriäge began

In Paradise, and bore the fruit of man;

On whose sweet branches angels sat and sung,
And from whose firm root all society sprung.

Love (whose strong virtue wrapt heaven's soul in earth,
And made a woman glory in his birth)

In marriage opens his inflaméd breast;

And lest in him nature should stifled rest,

His genial fire about the world he darts,

Which lips with lips combines, and hearts with hearts.
Marriage Love's object is; at whose bright eyes,
He lights his torches, and calls them his skies.
For her he wings his shoulders; and doth fly
To her white bosom as his sanctuary :

In which no lustful finger can profane him,
Nor any earth with black eclipses wane him.
She makes him smile in sorrows, and doth stand
'Twixt him and all wants, with her silver hand.
In her soft locks his tender feet are tied;

1 Hippocrat. in a certain epistle to Philopom. describeth her, Mulierem, quæ non mala videatur, sed audacior aspectu et concitatior. To which Cesare Ripa, in his Iconolog. alludeth in these words, Faccia, nè bella, nè dispiacevole, &c.

F

And in his fetters he takes worthy pride.
And as geometricians have approved
That lines and superficies are not moved
By their own forces, but do follow still
Their bodies' motions, so the self-loved will
Of man or woman should not rule in them,
But each with other wear the anadem.

Mirrors, though decked with diamonds, are notight worth
If the like forms of things they set not forth;
So men or women are worth nothing neither,
If either's eyes and hearts present not either.
Opin. Untouched Virginity, läugh out; to see
Freedom in fetters placed, and urged 'gainst thee.
What griefs lie groaning on the nuptial bed?
What dull society? in what sheets of lead
Tumble and toss the restless married pair,
Each oft offended with the other's air?
From whence springs all-devouring avarice,
But from the cares which out of wedlock rise?
And, where there is in life's best-tempered fires
An end set in itself to all desires,

A settled quiet, freedom never checked;
How far are married lives from this effect?
Euripus,1 that bears ships in all their pride
'Gainst roughest winds with violence of his tide,
And ebbs and flows seven times in every day,
Toils not more turbulent or fierce than they.
<And then what rules husbands prescribe their wives!
In their eyes' circles they must bound their lives.
The moon, when farthest from the sun she shines,
Is most refulgent; nearest, most declines :
But your poor wives far off must never roam,
But waste their beauties near their lords at home:

And when their lords range out, at home must hide,

1 A narrow sea, between Aulis, a port of Boeotia, and the isle Euboea. See Pomp. Mela, lib. 2.

Like to begged monopōlies, all their pride.
When their lords list to feed a serious fit,

They must be serious; when to show their wit

In jests and laughter, they must laugh and jest;

When they wake, wake; and when they rest, must rest;
And to their wives men give such narrow scopes,
As if they meant to make them walk on ropes:
No tumblers bide more peril of their necks

In all their tricks, than wives in husbands' checks.
Where virgins, in their sweet and peaceful state,
Have all things perfect; spin their own free fate;
Depend on no proud second; are their own
Centre and circle; now and always one.

To whose example we do still hear named

One God, one nature, and but one world framed,
One sun, one moon, one element of fire,

So of the rest; one king, that doth inspire

Soul to all bodies, in their royal sphere.

Truth. And where is marriage more declared than there?

Is there a band more strict than that doth tie

The soul and body in such unity?

Subjects to sovereigns; doth one mind display
In the one's obedience, and the other's sway ?
Believe it, inarriage suffers no compare,
When both estates are valued as they are.

The virgin were a strange and stubborn thing,

Would longer stay a virgin than to bring

Herself fit use and profit in a make.

Opin. How she doth err, and the whole heaven mistake!

Look, how a flower that close in closes grows,

Hid from rude cattle, bruiséd with no ploughs,

Which the air doth stroke, sun strengthen, showers shoot higher,

It many youths, and many maids desire;

The same, when cropt by cruel hand 'tis withered,

No youths at all, no maidens have desired:

So a virgin, while untouched she doth remain,