They'll rather fall upon the place,
Than suffer such disgrace.

You are but men at best, they say,
And they from those ne'er ran away.

Cup. [to the King.]

You, sir, that are the lord of Time,
Receive it not as any crime

'Gainst majesty, that Love and Sport
To night have enter'd in your court.
Sport. Sir, doubt him more of some surprize
Upon yourself; He hath his eyes.
You are the noblest object here,
And 'tis for you alone I fear:
For here are ladies, that would give
A brave reward, to make Love live
Well all his life, for such a draught;
And therefore, look to every shaft:
The wag's a deacon in his craft.

Cup. [to the Lords.]

My lords, the honours of the crown,
Put off your sourness, do not frown,
Bid cares depart, and business hence:
A little, for the Time, dispense.

[Pause.

[Pause.

Sport. Trust nothing that the boy lets fall,
My lords, he hath plots upon you all.
A pensioner unto your wives,
To keep you in uxorious gyves,
And so your sense to fascinate,
To make you quit all thought of slate,
His amorous questions to debate.
But hear his logic, he will prove
There is no business, but to be in love.
The words of Sport, my lords, and coarse.
Your ladies yet, will not think worse

Cup.

[Pause.

Sport.

Cup.

Of Love for this: they shall command
My bow, my quiver, and my hand.
What, here to stand

And kill the flies?

Alas, thy service they despise.
One beauty here, hath in her eyes
More shafts than from thy bow e'er flew,
Or that poor quiver knew.

These dames,

They need not Love's, they've Nature's flames.
I see the Beauty that you so report.

Sport. Cupid, you must not point in court,
Where live so many of a sort.

Of Harmony these learn'd their speech,
The Graces did them footing teach,
And, at the old Idalian brawls,

They danced your mother down. She calls.
Arm, arm them all.

Young bloods come on,

And charge; let every man take one.

Cup.

Sport.

Cup.

Sport.

These are fair wars;

And will be carried without scars.

Cup.

And try his fate.

A joining, but of feet, and hands,

Is all the Time, and Love commands.

Sport. Or if you do their gloves off-strip,
Or taste the nectar of the lip;
See, so you temper your desires,
For kisses, that ye suck not fires.

The REVELS follow; which ended, the Chorus appear again, and DIANA descends to HIPPOLITUS, the whole scene being changed into a wood, out of which he comes.

Cho. The courtly strife is done, it should appear,
Between the youths, and beauties of the year:

We hope that now these lights will know their

sphere,

And strive hereafter to shine ever here :
Like brightest planets, still to move

In the eye of Time, and orbs of Love.

Dia. Hippolitus, Hippolitus!
Hip. Diana?

Dia. She.

Be ready you, or Cephalus,
To wait on me.

Hip. We ever be.

Dia. Your goddess hath been wrong'd to-night,
By Love's report unto the Time.
Hip. The injury, itself will right,

Which only Fame hath made a crime,
For Time is wise,

And hath his ears as perfect as his eyes.

Sat. Who's that descends? Diana?

Vot. Yes.

Ven. Belike her troop she hath begun to miss. Sat. Let's meet, and question what her errand is. Hip. She will prevent thee, Saturn, not t'excuse Herself unto thee, rather to complain

Dia.

That thou and Venus both should so abuse
The name of Dian, as to entertain
A thought, that she had purpose to defraud
The Time, of any glories that were his:
To do Time honour rather, and applaud
His worth, hath been her study.

And it is.

I call'd these youths forth in their blood, and prime,

Out of the honour that I bore their parts,
To make them fitter so to serve the Time

By labour, riding, and those ancient arts,
That first enabled men unto the wars,
And furnish'd heaven with so many stars:

Hip. As Perseus, Castor, Pollux, and the rest, Who were of hunters first, of men the best; Whose shades do yet remain within yond'

groves,

Themselves there sporting with their nobler loves.

Dia. And so may these do, if the Time give leave. Sat. Chaste Dian's purpose we do now conceive, And yield thereto.

Ven. And so doth Love.

Vot. All votes do in one circle move.

Grand Cho.

Turn hunters then,

Again.

Hunting, it is the noblest exercise,
Makes men laborious, active, wise,
Brings health, and doth the spirits delight,
It helps the hearing, and the sight:
It teacheth arts that never slip

The memory, good horsemanship,
Search, sharpness, courage, and defence,
And chaseth all ill habits thence.

Turn hunters then,

Again,

But not of men.
Follow his ample,

And just example,

That hates all chase of malice, and of blood:
And studies only ways of good,

To keep soft peace in breath.
Man should not hunt mankind to death,

But strike the enemies of man;

Kill vices if you can:

They are your wildest beasts,

And when they thickest fall, you make the gods

true feasts.

Thus it ended.

NEPTUNE'S TRIUMPH

FOR THE

RETURN OF ALBION.

Celebrated in a Masque at the Court on the Twelfth-night, 1624.

Omnis et ad reducem jam litat ara Deum.

MART.