TO INIGO MARQUIS WOULD-BE.

A COROLLARY.

But 'cause thou hear'st the mighty King of Spain
Hath made his Inigo marquis,2 wouldst thou fain
Our Charles should make thee such? 'twill not
become

All kings to do the selfsame deeds as some:
Besides, his man may merit it, and be

A noble honest soul: what's this to thee?
He may have skill, and judgment to design.
Cities and temples, thou a cave for wine,
Or ale; 43 he build a palace, thou the shop,
With sliding windows, and false lights a-top;
He draw a forum with quadrivial streets;

Thou paint a lane where Tom Thumb Jeffrey meets,*

44

He some Colossus, to bestride the seas,
From the famed pillars of old Hercules;
Thy canvas giant at some channel aims,
Or Dowgate torrents falling into Thames;
And straddling shows the boys' brown paper fleet
Yearly set out there, to sail down the street.
Your works thus differing, much less so your

style,

Content thee to be Pancridge earl the while,

42 This passage refers to a current notion, having its origin in Jones's Christian name, that he had a Spaniard for his god-father.-B.

43 Jones did construct the king's cellar. See ante, p. 236. 44 That is, just wide enough to allow of the meeting of Tom Thumb and Jeffrey Hudson [the dwarf]. - G.

An earl of show; 45 for all thy worth is show: But when thou turn'st a real Inigo,

Or canst of truth the least entrenchment pitch, We'll have thee styled the Marquis of Towerditch.

EPITHALAMION.

FROM THE MASQUE OF HYMEN. 46

Glad time is at his point arrived,
For which love's hopes were so long lived.
Lead, Hymen, lead away;

And let no object stay,

Nor banquets, but sweet kisses,

The turtles from their blisses.
'Tis Cupid calls to arm,

And this his last alarm.

Shrink not, soft virgin, you will love
Anon, what you so fear to prove.
This is no killing war,

To which you pressèd are;

45 One of the "worthies" who annually rode to Mile-end, or the Artillery ground, in the procession called Arthur's Show. G. Jones was said to have aspired to a peerage, but there is no better proof of it than can be found in the scurrilous doggerel of the day. -- B.

46 This masque was performed in 1606 at the marriage of Robert, Earl of Essex, son of the Essex of Elizabeth, and Lady Frances, second daughter of the Earl of Suffolk. The marriage was a most inauspicious one, for it was this Lady Frances who, divorced from Essex, married the Earl of Somerset and caused the death of Overbury.

But fair and gentle strife
Which lovers call their life.
"Tis Cupid cries, to arm,

And this his last alarm.

Help, youths and virgins, help to sing
The prize, which Hymen here doth bring.
And did so lately rap

From forth the mother's lap,
To place her by that side
Where she must long abide.
On Hymen, Hymen call,
This night is Hymen's all.

See! Hesperus is yet in view.
What star can so deserve of you?
Whose light doth still adorn
Your bride, that, ere the morn,
Shall far more perfect be,
And rise as bright as he;
When, like to him, her name

Is changed, but not her flame.

Haste, tender lady, and adventure;
The covetous house would have you enter,
That it might wealthy be,

And you, her mistress, see.

47 That she might not touch the threshold as she entered,

the bride was lifted over it.

Above the threshold high,

With prosperous augury.

Now youths, let go your pretty arms;
The place within chants other charms.
Whole showers of roses flow,
And violets seem to grow,
Strew'd in the chamber there,
As Venus' mead it were.
On Hymen, Hymen call,
This night is Hymen's all.

Good matrons, that so well are known
To aged husbands of your own,
Place you our bride to-night,
And snatch away the light,
That she not hide it dead
Beneath her spouse's bed;
Nor he reserve the same
To help the funeral flame.

So! now you may admit him in;
The act he covets is no sin,

But chaste and holy love,
Which Hymen doth approve;
Without whose hallowing fires
All aims are base desires.
On Hymen, Hymen call,
This night is Hymen's all.

Now free from vulgar spite or noise
May you enjoy your mutual joys;

Now, you no fear controls,
But lips may mingle souls;
And soft embraces bind
To each the other's mind;
Which may no power untie

Till one or both must die!

And look! before you yield to slumber That your delights be drawn past number; Joys got with strife, increase.

Affect no sleepy peace,

But keep the bride's fair eyes
Awake with her own cries,

Which are but maiden fears;

And kisses dry such tears.

Then coin them 'twixt your lips so sweet,
And let not cockles closer meet;

Nor may your murmuring loves
Be drowned by Cypris' doves.
Let ivy not so bind

As when your arms are twined:
That you may both, ere day,
Rise perfect every way.

And Juno, whose great powers protect
The marriage bed, with good effect,

The labor of this night

Bless thou, for future light:
And thou, thy happy charge,

Glad genius, enlarge;