THE HUE AND CRY AFTER CUPID.

[THE worthy custom of honouring worthy marriages, with these noble solemnities, hath of late years advanced itself frequently with us; to the reputation no less of our court, than nobles; expressing besides (through the difficulties of expense and travel, with the cheerfulness of undertaking) a most real affection in the personaters, to those, for whose sake they would sustain these persons. It behoves then us, that are trusted with a part of their honour in these celebrations, to do nothing in them beneath the dignity of either. With this proposed part of judgment, I adventure to give that abroad, which in my first conception I intended honourably fit: and, though it hath labour'd since, under censure, I, that know truth to be always of one stature, and so like a rule, as who bends it the least way, must needs do an injury to the right, cannot but smile at their tyrannous ignorance, that will offer to slight me (in these things being an artificer) and give themselves a peremptory license to judge who have never touched so much as to the bark, or utter shell of any knowledge. But their daring dwell with them. They have found a place to pour out their follies; and I a seat, to sleep out the passage.]

THE scene to this Masque was a high, steep, red cliff, advancing itself into the clouds, figuring the place, from whence (as I have been, not fabulously, informed) the honourable family of the Radcliffs first took their name, a clivo rubro, and is to be written with that orthography; as I have observed out of master Camden, in his mention of the earls of Sussex. This cliff was also a note of height, greatness, and antiquity. Before which, on the two sides, were erected two pilasters, charged with spoils and trophies of Love and his mother, consecrate to marriage: amongst which, were old and young persons figured, bound with roses, the wedding garments, rocks and spindles, hearts transfixed with arrows, others flaming, virgins' girdles, garlands, and worlds of such like all wrought round and bold: and over head two personages, Triumph and Victory, in flying postures, and twice so big as the life, in place of the arch, and holding a garland of myrtle for the key. All which, with the pillars, seemed to be of burnished gold, and embossed out of the metal. Beyond the cliff was seen

nothing but clouds, thick and obscure; till on the sudden, with a solemn music, a bright sky breaking forth, there were discovered first two doves, then two Swans * with silver geers, drawing forth a triumphant chariot; in which Venus sat, crowned with her star, and beneath her the three Graces, or Charites, Aglaia, Thalia, Euphrosyne, all attired according to their antique figures. These, from their chariot, alighted on the top of the cliff, and descending by certain abrupt and winding passages, Venus having left her star only flaming in her seat, came to the earth, the Graces throwing garlands all the way, and began to speak.

Ven. It is no common cause, ye will conceive,
My lovely Graces, makes your goddess leave
Her state in heaven, to-night, to visit earth.
Love late is fled away, my eldest birth,
Cupid, whom I did joy to call my son;
And whom long absent, Venus is undone.
Spy, if you can, his footsteps on this green;
For here, as I am told, he late hath been,
With divers of his brethren, † lending light
From their best flames, to gild a glorious night;
Which I not grudge at, being done for her,
Whose honours, to my own, I still prefer.
But he not yet returning, I'm in fear,
Some gentle Grace, or innocent Beauty here,
Be taken with him or he hath surprised
A second Psyche, and lives here disguised.
Find ye no track of his stray'd feet?

* Both doves and swans were sacred to this goddess, and as well with the one as the other, her chariot is induced by Ovid. lib. 10 and 11 Metamor.

Alluding to the Loves (the torch-bearers) in the Queen's Masque before.

1 Gra. Not I.

2 Gra. Nor I.

Ven. Stay, nymphs, we then will try
Look all these ladies' eyes,

A nearer way.

And see if there he not concealed lies;

3 Gra. Nor I.

Or in their bosoms, 'twixt their swelling breasts;
The wag affects to make himself such nests:
Perchance he hath got some simple heart, to hide
His subtle shape in; I will have him cry'd,
And all his virtues told! that, when they'd know
What sprite he is, she soon may let him go,
That guards him now; and think herself right blest,
To be so timely rid of such a guest.

Begin, soft GRACES, and proclaim reward

To her that brings him in. Speak to be heard.

1 Grace. Beauties, have ye seen this toy,
Called Love, a little boy,*
Almost naked, wanton, blind;
Cruel now, and then as kind?
If he be amongst ye, say?

He is Venus' runaway.

2 Grace. She that will but now discover
Where the winged wag doth hover,
Shall to-night receive a kiss,

How, or where herself would wish :
But, who brings him to his mother,
Shall have that kiss, and another.

3 Grace. He hath marks about him plenty :
You shall know him among twenty.

*In this Love, I express Cupid, as he is Veneris filius, and owner of the following qualities, ascribed him by the antique and later poets.