To the Glory of our owne, and griefe
of other Nations.
My Lord
HENRY
Prince of great Brittaine, &c.
SIR,
HEN it hath beene my happinesse (as would it
were more frequent) but to see your face, and, as
passing by, to consider you; I haue with as much
ioy, as I am now farre from flattery in professing
it, cal'd to mind that doctrine of some great In-
quisitors in Nature, who hold euery royall & heroique forme
to partake and draw much to it of the heauenly vertue. For,
whether it be that a diuine soule, being to come into a body,
first chooseth a palace for itselfe; or, being come, doth make it
so; or that Nature be ambitious to haue her worke equal; I
know not: But what is lawful for me to vnderstand, & speak,
that I dare; which is, that both your Vertue & your Forme did
deserue your Fortune. The one claim'd that you should bee
borne a Prince, the other makes that you do become it. And
when Necessity (excellent Lord) the mother of the Fates, hath
so prouided, that your Forme should not more insinuate you
to the eies of men, then your Vertue to their mindes: it comes
neere a wonder to thinke how sweetly that habite flowes in
you, and with so hourely testimonies, which to all posterity
might hold the dignity of examples. Amongst the rest, your
fauour to letters, and these gentler studies, that goe vnder the
title of Humanitie, is not the least honor of your wreath. For, if
once the worthy Professors of these learnings shall come (as
heretofore they were) to be the care of Princes, the Crownes,
their Soveraignes weare, will not more adorne their temples,
nor their stamps liue longer in their Medals, then in such
subiects labours. Poetry, my Lord, is not borne with euery
man; nor euery day: And in her generall right, it is now my
minute to thanke your Highnesse, who not only do honor her
with your eare, but are curious to examine her with your
eye, and inquire into her beauties, and strengthes. Where
though it hath prou'd a worke of some difficulty to me, to re-
triue the particulare Authorities (according to your gracious
command, and a desire borne out of iudgement) to those
things, which I writ out of fulnesse, and memory of my for-
mer readings: yet, now I have ouercome it, the reward, that
meetes me, is double to one act: which is, that thereby your
excellent vnderstanding will not onely iustifie me to your
owne knowledge, but decline the stiffenesse of others origi-
nall ignorance, already arm'd to censure. For, which singular
bounty, if my Fate (most excellent Prince, and onely Delicacy
of Man-kind) shall reserue me to the Age of your Actions,
whether in the Campe, or the Councell-chamber, that I may
write, at nights, the deedes of your dayes: I will then labour
to bring forth some worke as worthy of your fame, as my
ambition therein is of your pardon.
By the most true admirer of your Highnesse vertues,
And most hearty Celebrater of them,
BEN: IONSON.
THE MASQVE
OF QVEENES.
IT increasing, now, to the third time of
my being vs'd in these seruices to her
Maiesties personall presentations, with
the Ladyes whom she pleaseth to ho-
nor; it was my first & speciall regard, to
see that the Nobility of the inuention
should bee answerable to the dignity of their persons.
For which reason I chose the argument, to be, A celebra-
tion of honorable, and true Fame, bred out of Vertue: obser-
uing that rule of the a best Artist, to suffer no obiect of
delight to passe without his mixture of profit & exam-
ple. And because her Maiestie (best knowing, that a prin-
cipall part of life, in these Spectacles, lay in their variety)
had cömanded me to think on some Dance or shew, that
might præcede hers, & haue the place of a foile or false
Masque; I was carefull to decline, not only from others,
but mine owne steps in that kind, since the b last yeare, I
had an Anti-masque of Boyes: and therfore now, deuis'd,
that twelue Women, in the habit of Hags, or Witches, sus-
taining the persons of Ignorance, Suspition, Credulity, &c.
the opposits to good Fame, should fill that part; not as a
Masque, but a Spectacle of strangenes, producing multi-
plicitie of gesture, and not vnaptly sorting with the cur-
rent, and whole fall of the devise.
His Maiestie, then, being set, and the whole com-
pany in full expectation, the part of the Scene which
first presented it selfe was an ougly Hell: which
flaming beneath, smoaked vnto the top of the Roofe.
And in respect all Euils are, morally, said to come from
Hell; as also from that obseruation of Torrentius
vpon Horace his
Canidia,cquæ tot iinstructa venenis, ex
Orci
faucibus profecta videri possit
: These VVitches,
with a kinde of hollow and infernall musique, came
forth from thence. First one, then two, and three, and
more, till their number increased to eleuen; all diffe-
rently attir'd: some with Rats on their heads; some on
their shoulders; others with ointment pots at their gir-
dles; All with spindles, timbrels, rattles, or other verefi-
cal instrumēts, making a confused noise, with strange ge-
stures. The deuise of their attire was Mr. Iones his, with
the inuention, & Architecture of the whole Scene, & Ma-
chine. Onely, I prescrib'd them their Properties of Vipers,
Snakes, Bones, Hearbs, Rootes, and other Ensignes of
their Magick, out of the authority of auncient and late
VVriters, wherein the faults are mine, if there bee any
found; and for that cause I confesse them.
These eleuen VVitches beginning to dance (which is
an usualdCeremony at their Conuents, or meetings, where
sometimes also they are vizarded, and masqu'd) on the
sodaine, one of them missed their Chiefe, and interrupted
the rest, with this speech.
SIsters, stay, we want oure Dame;
Call vpon her by her name,
And the Charme we vse to say,
That she quicklyfannoint, and come away.
DAme, Dame, the Watch is set:
Quickly come, we all are met.
g From the lakes, and from the fennes,
From the rocks, and from the dennes,
From the woods, and from the caues,
From the church-yeards, from the graues,
From the dungeon, from the tree
That they dye on, here are we.
Comes she not yet?
Strike another beate.
THe weather is faire, the winde is good,
Vp Dame, o' your hhorse of wood:
Or else, tucke up your gray frock,
And make his bridle a bottome of thrid,
To rowle vp how many miles you haue rid.
Quickly come away;
For we, all, stay.
Nor yet? Nay, then,
Wee’ll try her agen.
THe Owle is abroad, the Bat, and the Toad,
And so is the Cat-a-mountaine;
The Ant, and the Mole fit both in a hole,
And Frogge peepes out o’the fountaine;
The Dogges, they do bay, and the Timbrels play,
Thel Spindle is now a turning;
The Moone it is red, and the Starres are fled,
But all the Sky is a burning:
Them Ditch is made, and our nayles the spade,
With pictures full, of waxe, and of wooll;
Their liners I sticke, with needles quicke;
There lackes but the bloud, to make vp the flood.
Quickly Dame, then, bring your part in,
Spurre, spurre, vpon littlen Martin,
Merely, merely, make him saile,
A worme in his mouth, and a thorne in’s taile,
Fire aboue, and fire below,
With a whip i’your hand, to make him go.
O, Now shee’s come!
Let all be dumbe.
AT this, theoDame enter'd to them, naked-arm'd,
bare-footed, her frock tuck'd, her haire knotted,
and folded with Vipers; In her hand a Torch made of
a dead mans arme, lighted; girded with a Snake.
To whom they all did reverence, and she spake, vtte-
ring, by way of question, the end wherefore they came:
which if it had beene done either before, or other-
wise, had not beene so naturall. for, to haue made
themselues, their owne decipherers, and each one to
have told, upon their entrance, what they were, and whe-
ther they would, had bin a most pitious hearing, and vt-
terly unworthy any quality of a Poeme: wherein a Wri-
tershould alwayes trust somewhat to the capacity of
the Spectator, especially, at these Spectacles; where
men, beside inquiring eyes, are vnderstood to bring
quicke eares, and not those sluggish ones of Porters,
and Mechanicks, that must be box'd through, at eue-
ry act, with narrations.
DAME. HAGGES.
spight,
To ouerthrow the glory of this night?
Holds our great purpose?
HAG.
Yes.
DAM.
none,
of our iust number?
HAG.
Call vs one, by one,
And then our Dame shall see.
DAM.
P.First, then, aduance
My drousie seruant, stupide Ignorance,
Knowne by thy scaly vesture; and bring on
Thy fearefull Sister, wild Suspition,
Whose eyes do neuer sleepe; Let her knit hands
With quick Credulity, that next her stands,
Who hath but one eare, and that alwayes ope,
Two-faced Falshood, follow, in the rope;
And lead on Murmure, with the cheekes deepe hung;
She Malice, whetting of her forked tongue;
And Malice Impudence, whose forhead's lost;
Let Impudence lead Slander on, to boast
Her oblique looke; and to her subtle side
Thou, black-mouth'd Execration, stand apply'd;
Draw to thee Bitternesse, whose pores sweat gall;
She flame-eyd Rage, Rage Mischief.
HAG.
Here we, are all.
DAM.
qIoyne now our hearts, we faithfull Opposites
To Fame, and Glory. Let not these bright nights
Of Honour blaze, thus, to offend our eyes.
Shew our selues truely envious, and let rise
Our wonted rages. Do what may beseeme
Such names, and Natures. Vertue, else, will deeme
Our powers decreast, and thinke us banish'd earth,
No lesse then heauen. All her antique birth,
As Iustice, Faith, she will restore; and bold
Vpon our sloth, retriue her Age of Gold.
VVe must not let our natiue manners, thus,
Corrupt with ease. Ill liues not, but in us.
I Hate to see these fruites of a soft Peace,
And curse the pietie give it such increase.
Let us disturbe it then, r and blast the light;
Mixe Hell with Heauen, and make Nature fight
Within her selfe; loose the whole henge of Things;
And cause the Ends runne backe, into their Springs.
HAG.
VVhat our Dame bids vs doe
We are ready for.
DAM.
Then fall too.
s But first relate me, what you haue sought,
VVhere you haue beene, and what you have brought.
HAGGES.
I.
I Haue bene, all day, looking after
A Rauen, feeding vpon a quarter;
And, soone as she turn’d her beake to the South,
I snatch’d this morsell out of her mouth.
I Haue bene gathering Wolues haires,
The mad Dogges foame, and the Adders eares;
The spurging of a dead Mans eyes,
And all, since the Euening starre did rise.
I, Last night, lay all alone
O the ground, to heare the Mandrake grone;
And pluckt him vp, though he grew full low,
And, as I had done, the Cocke did crow.
ANd, I ha’beene choosing out this scull,
From Charnell houses, that were full;
From priuate Grots, and publique Pits,
And frighted a Sexten, out of his wits.
Vnder a cradle I did creepe,
By day; and, when the child was asleepe,
At night, I suckd the breath: and rose,
And pluckd the nodding Nurse by the nose.
I Had a dagger: VVhat did I with that?
Kill’d an infant, to haue his fat.
A Piper it got at a Church-ale,
I bad him, againe blow wind i’the tayle.
A Murderer, yonder, was hung in chaines,
The Sunne, and the wind had shrunke his vaines;
I bit of a sinew, I clipp’d his haire,
I brought of his ragges, that danc’d i’ the ayre.
The Scrich-owles egges, and the fethers black,
The bloud of the Frogge, and the bone in his back
I haue beene getting; and made of his skin
A purset, to keepe Sir Cranion in.
ANd I ha’ beene plucking (plants among)
Hemlock, Henbane, Adders-tongue,
Night-shade, Moonewort, Libbards-bane;
And twise, by the Dogges, was like to be tane.
I, From the iawes of a Gardiners Bitch,
Did snatch these bones, and then leap’d the ditch,
Yet went I back to the house againe,
Kill’d the black Cat, and here’s the brayne.
I VVent to the Toad breedes vnder the wall,
I charm’d him out, and he came at my call;
I scratchd out the eyes of the Owle, before,
I tore the Battes wing; what would you haue more?
12.
DAME.
YEs, I haue brought (to helpe our vowes)
Horned Poppy, Cipresse boughes,
The Fig-tree wild, that growes on tombes,
And Iuice, that from the Larch-tree comes,
The Basiliskes blood, and the Vipers skin:
And, now, our Orgies let's begin.
Here, the Dame put her selfe in the midst of them,
and began her following Inuocation; wherein she
tooke occasion to boast all the power attributed to
VVitches, by the Antients: of which euery Poet (or the
most) do giue some. Homer to Circe, in the Odyss. Theo-
critus to Simatha, in Pharmaceutria. Virgil to Alphesibœus,
in his. Ouid to Dipsas, in Amor to Medea, and Circe, in
Metamorph. Tibullus to Saga. Horace to Canidia, Sagana,
Veia, Folia. Seneca to Medea, and the Nurse, in Herc OEte.
Petr. Arbiter to his Saga, in Frag. And Claudian to
Megæra.Lib.1.in Rufinum; who takes the habite of a
VVitch, as these do, and supplies that historicall part in
the Poeme, beside her morall person of a Fury: Confir-
ming the same drift, in ours.
aYOu Feinds, and Furies (if yet any bee
VVorse then our selues) you, that haue quak’d to see
Theseb knots vntied; & shrunk when we haue charm’d.
You, that (to arme vs) haue your selues disarm’d,
And to our powers, resign’d your whips and brands,
VVhen we went forth the scourge of Men, and Lands.
You, that haue seene me ride, when Hecate
Durst not take chariot; when the boistrous sea,
VVithout a breath of wind, hath knock’d the sky;
And that hath thundred, Ioue not knowing why:
VVhen we haue set the Elemens at warres.
Made Midnight see the Sunne, and Day the starres;
VVhen the wing’d Lightning, in the course, hath staid;
And swiftest Rivers haue run backe, afraid,
To see the Corne remoue the Groues to range,
VVhole Places alter, and the Seasons change.
When the pale Moone, at the first voice, downe fell
Poison’d, and durst not stay the second Spell.
You, that haue oft, beene conscious of these sights;
And thouc three-formed Starre, that, on these nights
Art onely powerfull, to whose triple Name
Thus we incline, Once, twice, and thrice the same;
If now with rites prophane, and foule inough,
VVe do inuoke thee; darken all this roofe,
VVith present fogges: Exhale earths rott’nest vapors,
And strike a blindnesse through these blazing tapers.
Come, let a murmuring Charme resound,
The whilest wed bury all i’the ground.
But first, see euerye foote be bare;
And euery knee.
HAG.
Yes, Dame, they are.
DEepe,fO deepe, we lay thee to sleepe;
VVe leaue thee drinke by, if thou chance to be dry;
Both Milke, and Bloud, the Dew, and the Floud.
VVe breath in thy bed, at the foote, and the head;
We couer thee warme, that thou take no harme;
And when thou dost wake,
Dame Earth shall quake,
And the houses shake,
And her belly shall ake,
As her backe were brake,
Such a birth to make,
As is the blew Drake:
Whose forme thou shalt take.
DAME.
Neuer a Starre yet shot?
Where be the Ashes?
HAG.
Here i'the pot.
HAG.
It will bee best.
THE Sticks are a crosse; there can be no losse,
The Sage is rotten, the Sulphur is gotten
Vp to the sky, that was t'the ground.
Follow it then, with our rattles, round;
Vnder the bramble, ouer the brier,
A litle more heat will set it on fire:
Put it in minde, to do it kind,
Flow water, and blow wind.
Rouncy is ouer, Robble is vnder,
A flash of light, and a clap of thunder,
A storme of raine, another of hayle.
VVe all must home, i’the Egg-shell sayle;
The mast is made of a great pin,
The tackle of cobweb, the sayle as thin,
And if we go through and not fall in----
DAME.
hStay, All our Charmes do nothing winne
Vpon the night; our labour dies!
Our Magick-feature will not rise;
Nor yet the storme! VVe must repeate
More direfull voyces farre, and beate
The ground with Vipers, till it sweate.
BArke Dogges, Wolves howle,
Seas rore, Wood’s rowle,
Cloudes crack, all be black,
But the light our Charmes do make.
DAME.
Not yet? My rage beginnes to swell;
Darkenesse, Diuells, Night, and Hell,
Do not thus delay my Spell.
I call you once, and call you twise;
I beat you againe, if you stay my thrise:
Thorough these cranyes, where I peepe,
iI’le let in the light to see your sleep.
And all the secrets of your sway
Shall lie as open to the day,
As vnto me. Still are you deafe?
Reach me a Bough, kthat nere bare leafe,
To strike the aire; andlAconite,
To hurle upon this glaring light;
mA rustic knife, to wound mine arme;
And, as it drops, I’le speake a Charme,
Shall cleane the ground, as low as lies
Old Shrunk-vp Chaos, and let rise,
Once more, his darke, and reeking head,
To strike the World, and Nature dead,
Vntill my Magick birth be bred.
BLacke goe in, and blacker come out;
At thy going downe, we giue thee a shout.
nHoo!
At thy rising againe, thou shalt haue two,
And if thou dost what, we would have thee doe,
Thou shalt haue three, thou shalt haue foure,
Thou shalt haue ten, thou shalt haue a score.
Hoo. Har. Har, Hoo!
A Cloud of pitch, a Spurre, and a Switch,
To hast him away, and a whirlewind play,
Before, and after, with thunder for laughter,
And stormes for ioy, of the roaring Boy;
His head of a Drake, his tayle of a Snake.
About, about, and about,
Till the mist arise, and thelightes fly out,
The Images neither be seene, nor felt;
The wollen burne, and the waxen melt;
Sprinkle your liquors vpon the ground,
And into the ayre; around, around.
Around, around,
Around, around,
oTill a Musique sound,
And the pase be found,
To which we may daunce,
And our Charmes aduance.
At which, with a strange, & sodayne Musique they
fell into a pMagical Daunce, full of præposterous
change, and gesticulation, but most applying
to their property: who at their meetings, do all things
contrary to the custome of Men, dauncing back to
back, and hip to hip, their hands ioin’d, and making
their circles backward, to the left hand, with strange
phantastique motions of their heads, and bodyes. All
which were excellently imitated by the maker of the
Daunce, M.Hierome Herne, whose right it is here to
be named.
IN the heat of their Daunce, on the sodaine,
a sound of loud Musique, as if many instruments
had made one blast; with which, not onely the Haggs
themselues, but the Hell, into which they ranne, quite
vanished, and the whole face of the Scene altred, scarse
suffering the memory of such a thing: But in the place
of it, appeared a glorious, and magnificent Building,
figuring the House of Fame, in the top of which, were
discouered the twelue Masquers, sitting vpon a Throne
triumphall, erected in forme of a Pyramide, and circled
with all store of light. From whom a Person, by this
time descended, in the furniture of Perseus, and, expres-
singheroique, and masculine Vertue, began to speake.
HEROIQVE VERTVE.
So should, at FAMES loud sound, and VERTVES sight,
All darke, and enuious Witchcraft fly the light.
q I did not borrow Hermes wings, nor aske
His crooked sword, nor put on Pluto’s caske,
Nor on mine arme, aduanc’d wise Pallas shield,
(By which, my face avers’d, in open field
I slew the Gorgon) for an empty name:
VVhen Vertue cut off Terror, he gat Fame.
And, if when Fame was gotten, Terror dy’de,
What black Erynnis, or more Hellish pride,
Durst arme these Hags, now she is grown, and great,
To thinke they could her glories once defeat?
I was her Parent, and I am her Strength.
Heroique Vertue sinkes not vnder length
Of Yeares, or Ages; but is still the same,
While he preserues, as when he got good Fame.
My Daughter, then, whose glorious House you see
Built all of sounding brasse, whose Columnes bee
Men-making Poets, and those well made Men,
VVhose strife it was, to haue the happiest pen
Renowne them to an after-life, and not
VVith pride, to scorne the Muse, and dye forgot;
She, that inquireth into all the world,
And hath, about her vaulted Palace, hoorld
All rumors and reports, or true, or vaine,
VVhat vtmost Lands, or deepest Seas containe;
(But onely hangs great actions on her file)
She, to this better world, and greatest Ile,
To night sounds Honor which she would haue seene
In yond’ bright Beuie each of them a Queene.
Eleven of them are of times, long gone.
Penthesilea, the braue Amazon,
Swift-foote Camilla, Queene of Volscia,
Victorious Thomyris of Scythia,
Chast Artemisia, the Carian Dame,
And faire-hayr’d Beronice, Aegypts fame,
Hypsicratea, glory' of Asia,
Candace, pride of Aethiopia.
The Brittanne honor, Voadicea,
The vertuous Palmyrene, Zenobia,
The wise, and warlike Goth, Amalasunta,
And bold Valasca, of Bohemia.
These, in their liues, as fortunes, crown’d the Choyce
Of VVoman-kind, and ’gainst all opposite voyce
Made good to Time, had, after death, the clame
To liue æternis’d in the House of Fame.
VVhere hourely hearing (as, what there is old?)
The glories of BEL-ANNA so well told,
Queene of the Ocean; How, that she alone
Possest all vertues, for which One by One
They were so fam’d; And, wanting then a head
To forme that sweet, and gracious Pyramede
Wherein they sit, it being the sou’raigne place
Of all that Palace, and reseru’d to grace
The worthiest Queene: These, without enuy, on her,
In life, desir’d that honor to conferre,
Which, with their death, no other should enioy.
She this embracing with a vertuous ioy,
Farre from selfe-loue, as humbling all her worth,
To him that gaue it, hath againe brought forth
Their Names to memory; and meanes, this night,
To make them once more visible to light:
And to that light, from whence her truth of Spirit
Confesseth all the lustre of her merit.
To you, most royall, and most happy King,
Of whome, Fames house, in every part, doth ring
For euery Vertue; But can giue no’increase:
Not, though her loudest Trumpet blaze your Peace.
To you, that cherish euery great Example
Contracted in your selfe; and being so ample
A Field of Honor, cannot but embrace
A Spectacle, so full of loue, and grace
Vnto your Court: where euery Princely Dame
Contends to be as bounteous of her Fame
To others, as her Life was good to her.
For, by their Liues, they onely did confer
Good on themselues; but, by their Fame, to yours,
And euery Age, the benefit endures.
HEre, the Throne wherein they sate, being Machi-
naversatilis, sodainly chang’d; and in the place of
it appear’d Fama Bona, as she is describ’d (in Iconolog.di
Cesare Ripa) attir’d in white, with white wings, hauing
a collar of gold about her neck, and a heart hanging at
it: which Orus Apollo, in his Hierogl. interprets the
note of a good Fame. In her right hand, she bore a
Trompet, in her left an Oliue branch: And for her
State, it was, as rVirgil describes her, at the full, her feet
on the ground, and her head in the cloudes. She, after
the Musique had done, which wayted on the turning of
the Machine, cal’d from thence, to Vertue, and spake
this following speech.
FAME.
VIrtue, my Father, and my Honor; Thou
That mad’st mee good, as great, And dar’st auow
No Fame, for thine , but what is perfect: Ayde,
To night, the triumphes of thy white-wing’d Mayde.
Do those renowned Queenes all vtmmost rites
Their States can aske, This is a Night of nightes.
In mine owne Chariots let them, crowned, ride;
And mine owne Birds, and Beastes in geeres applide
To draw them forth. Vnto the first Carre tye
Farre-sighted Eagles, to note Fames sharpe eye.
Vnto the second; Griffons, that designe
Swiftnesse and Strength, two other gifts of mine.
Vnto othe last, our Lyons, that implye
The top of graces, State, and Maiesty.
And let those Haggs be led as captiues, bound
Before their wheeles, whilst I my trumpet sound.
AT which, the loud Musique sounded, as before; to
giue the Masquers time of descending. And here,
wee cannot but take the opportunity, to make some
more particular description of their Scene; as also of the
Persons they presented; which, though they were dis-
posed rather by chance, then election, yet is it my part
to iustifie them all: And then, the Lady that will owne
her Presentation, may.
To follow, therefore the, rule of Chronologie,
which I haue obseru’d in my verse, the most vpward
in time was PENTHESILEA. She was Queene of the
Amazons, & succeeded Otrera, or (as some wil) Orithya;
she liu’d, and was present at the warre of Troy, on their
part, against the Greekes, and (as Iustine giues her te-
stimony) Inter fortissimos viros, magna eius virtutis do-
cumenta extitere. She is no where nam’d, but with the
preface of honor, and vertue; and is alwaies aduanced
in the head of the worthiest Women. tDiodarus Sculus
makes her the Daughter of Mars. She was ho-
nor’d in her death, to haue it the act of Achilles. Of
which uPropertius sings this Triumph to her beauty.
Aurea cui post auam nudauit cassida frontem,
Vicit victorem candida forma virum.
Next, followes CAMILLA, Queene of the Volscians,
celebrated by xVirgil, then whose verses nothing
can bee imagin’d more exquisite, or more honouring
the person they describe. They are these, where hee
reckons vp those, that came on Turnus his part, a-
gainstAeneas.
Hos super aduenit Volsca de gente Camilla,
Agmen agens equitum, & florenteis ære cateruas,
Bellatrix. Non illa colo, calathisue Mineruæ
Femineas, assueta manus, sed prælia virgo
Dura pati, cursuque pedum prævertere ventos.
Illa vel intactæ segetis per summa volar et
Gramina, nec teneras cursu Læsisset aristas:
Vel mare per medium, fluctu, suspensa tumenti,
Ferret iter, celereis nec tingeret æquore plantas.
And afterward tels her attire and Armes, with the ad-
miration, that the Spectators had of her. All which if
the Poet created out of himselfe, without Nature, he
hee did but shewe, how much so diuine a Soule could
exceed her
The third liu’d in the age of Cyrus, the great Persian Mo-
narch, and made him leaue to liue. THOMYRIS, Queene
of the Scythians, or Massagets. A Heroine of a most in-
uincible, & vnbroken fortitude. VVho, when Cyrus had
inuaded her, and, taking her onely sonne (rather by
trechery, then warre, as shee obiected) had slaine him;
not touch’d with the griefe of so great a losse, in the
iuster comfort shee tooke of a greater reuenge, pursued
not onely the occasion, and honour of conquering so
potent an Enemy, with whom fell two hundred thou-
sand Souldiers: but (what was right memorable in her
victory) left not a Messenger suruiuing, of his side to
report the massacre. She is remembred both by yHe-
rodotus and zIustine, to the great renowne, and glory
of her kind: with this Elegie. Quod potentissimo Per-
sarum Monarchæ bello congressa est ipsamque & vita &
castris speliauit, ad instè vlciscendam filij eius indignissi-
mam mortem.
The fourth was honor’d to life in the time of Xerxes,
and present at his great expedition into Greece; ARTE-
MISIA, the Queene of Caria: whose vertueaHerodotus,
not without some wonder, records. That, a VVoman,
a Queene, without a husband, her sonne a ward, and
shee administring the gouernement, occasion’d by no
necessity, but a meere excellence of spirit, should em-
barque herselfe for such a Warre; and there, so to be-
haue her, as Xerxes beholding her fight, should say:b
Viri quidem extiterunt mihi feminæ, feminæ antem viri.
She is no lesse renowned for her chastity, and loue to
her Husband, Mausolus,c whose bones (after hee was
dead) shee preserv’d in ashes, and drunke in wine
making her selfe his Tombe: and, yet, built to his me-
mory a Monument, deseruing a place among the seuen
wonders of the World, which could not be done by lesse
then a wonder of VVomen.
The fifth was the faire hair’d daughter of Ptolomæus
Philadelphus, by the elder Arsinoe; who maried to
her brother Ptolemæus, surnamed Euergetes, was after
Queene of Egypt. I find her written both BERONICE, &
BERENICE. This Lady, vpon an expedition of her new
wedded Lord into Assyria, vowed to Venus, if hee re-
turn’d safe, and conquerer, the offering of her haire;
which vow of hers (exacted by the successe) she after-
ward perform’d: But, her Father missing it, and there-
with displeas’d, Conon, a Mathematician, who was then in
household with Ptolomæe, and knew well to flatter him,
perswaded the king that it was ta’ne vp to heauen, and
made a Constellation; shewing him those seuen Starres,
ad caudam Leonis, which are since called Coma Beronices.
VVhich story, then presently celebrated by Callimachus,
in a most elegant Poeme, Catullus more elegantly cōuer-
ed; wherin they cal her the Magnanimous, euen from a Vir-
gin: alluding (as dHyginus sayes) to a rescue she made of
her Father in his flight, and restoring the courage and
honour of his army, euen to a victory. Their words are
eCogneram à parua virgine magnanimam.
The sixth, that famous wife of Mithridates, and
Queene of Pontus, HYPSICRATEA, no lesse an exam-
ple of vertue then the rest; who so loved her husband,
as shee was assistant to him, in all labors, and hazards
of the warre, in a Masculine habite. For which cause
(as fValerius Maximus obserues) shee departed with a
chiefe ornament of her beauty. Lonsis enim capillis, e-
quo se et armis assuefecit, quo facilius laboribus & periculis
eius interesset. And, afterward, in his flight from Pom-
pey, accompanied his misfortune, with a minde, and bo-
dy equally vnwearied. She is solemnely registred, by
that graue Author, as a notable president of Mariage-
loyaltie, and loue : vertues, that might raise a meane
person to equality with a Queene; but a Queene to
the state, and honour of a Deity.
The seuenth, that renowne of Aethiopia, CANDA-
CE: from whose excellencie, the succeeding Queenes of
that Nation were ambitious to be called so. A woman,
of a most haughty spirit against Enemies, and a singu-
lar affection to her Subiects. I finde her celebrated by
tus; who, though she were enforc’d to a peace by his
Lieutenant Petronius, doth not the lesse worthily hold
her place here; when, euery where, this Elogie remaines
of her Fame: That she was Maxime animi mulier, tanti-
que in suos meriti, vt omnes deinceps Aethiopum reginæ eius
nemine fuerint appellatæ. She gouern’d in Meroe.
The eight, our owne honor, VOADICHA, or BOO-
DICIA; By some BVNDVICA, and BVNDUCA:
Queene of the Iceni. A people, that inhabited that part
of our Iland which was called East-anglia, and compre-
hended, Suffolke, Norfolke, Cambridge, and Huntington
Shires. Since she was borne here at home, we will first
honor her with a home borne testemony; from the
grave and diligent iSpenser.
------Bunduca Britonesse,
Bunduca, that victorius Conqueresse,
That, lifting up her brave Heroique thought
Bore womans weaknesse, with the Romans fought;
Fought, and in field against them thrice prevail’d: &c.
To which, see her Orations in story, made by kTa-
citus, and lDion: wherin is expressed all magnitude of a
spirit, breathing to the libertie and redemption of her
Country. The later of whom, doth honest her beside,
with a particular description. Bunduica, Britanica fe-
mina, orsa stirperegia, quæ non, solum eis cum magna dig-
nitate præfuit, sed etiam bellum omne administravit; cuius
animus virilis, potius qua muliebris erat. And alfterwards,
Femina, forma honestissima, valiu senero, &c. All which
doth waigh the more to her true praise, in comming
from the mouthes of Romanes, and Enemies. Shee
liv’d in the time of Nero.
The ninth, in time, but equall in same, and (the
cause of it) vertue, was the chast ZENOBIA, Queene of
the Palmyrenes, who, after the death of her husband O-
denatus, had the name to be reckoned among the xxx.
that usurped the Romane Empire, from Galienus. She con-
tinued a long and brave warre, against severall Chiefes;
and was at length triumphed on by Aurelian: but easpe-
specie, ut nihil pompabilius. P.Rom.videretur. Her Chastity
was such, Ut ne virum suum quidem scu et nisi sentatis con-
ceptionibus She liv’d in a most royall manner, and was
ador’d to the custome of the Persians. When she made
Orations to her souldiers, she had alwayes her caske
on A woman of a most divine spirit, and incredible
beautie. InmTrebellius Polli[*], reade the most noble de-
scription of a Queene, and her; that can be utter’d, with
the dignity of an Histerium.
The tenth succeeding, was that learned, and Heroi-
que AMA[ill]UNTA, Queene of the Ostrogothes, Daugh-
ter to [ill]rick, that obtained the principallity of Ra-
[ill] and almost all Italy. She draue the Burgundians,
and Alemaines out of Liguria, and appear’d in her go-
vernement rather an Example, then a Second. She was
the most eloquent of her Age, and cunning in all Lan-
guages, of any Nat[ill] that has had comerce with the Ro-
mane Empire. NIt is recorded of her, that sine venerati-
one cam vederit nemo, p[ill] intra[ill] fuerit ipsam audire be-
quentem. Tantaque illi in decernendo granitas, vt crim[*]-
nis connicts, cum plecterentur, nihil sibi scerbum pati vide-
rentur.
The eleuenth was that braue Bohemian Queene, VA-
LASCA, who for her courage, had the surname of bold:
That to redeeme her selfe and her sexe, from the tyranny
[ill] which they liv’d in, under Pri[ill]s, on a night,
& at an houre appointed, led on the womē to the slaugh-
ter of their barbarous Husbands, and Lords. And, posses-
sing themselves of their Horses, Armes, Treasure, and
places of Strength, not onely ruled the rest but liued
many yeares after, with the libertie and fortitude of A-
mazons. Celebrated by o Raphael Velaterranus, and in
an elegant tract of an Italian [ill] in Latin, (who names
himselfe Philalethes, Polytapiensis ciuss) inter prastantissimas
faminas.
The twelu’th, and worthy Soveraigne of all I make
BEL-ANNA, Royall Queene of the Ocean; of whose dig-
nity, and person the whole scope of the [ill] doth
speake throughout: which, to offer you againe here,
might but prove offence to that sacred Modesty,
which heares any testimony of others iterated, with
more delight, then her owne praise. She being plac’d
above the need of such ceremon, so safe in her Prince-
ly vertue, against the good, or ill, of any witnesse. The
Name of BEL-ANNA I devis’d, to honor hers proper
by; as adding to it, the attribute of [ill]aura: And is kept
by me, in all my Poemes, wherein I mention her Maiesty
with any shadow, or figure. Of which, some may come
forth with a longer destiny, then this Age, commonly,
gives to the best Births, if but help’d to light by her
gratious, and ripening favour.
But, here, I discerne a possible obiection, a-
rising against me; to which I must turne: As, How I can bring
Persons of so different Ages, to appeare properly toge-
ther? or, why (which is more unnaturall) with Virgil's
Mezentius, I ioyne the living with the dead? I answere
to both these, at once. Nothing is more proper. No-
thing more naturall. For these all live[ill] together, in
their Fame & to present them. Besides, if I would fly
the all-dating power of Poetry, where could I not
take Sanctuary or in whose P[ill]? For other obie-
ctions, let the lookes and noses of Iudges houer
thick; so they bring the braines: or if they do not, I care
not. When I suffer'd it to goe abroad, I departed with
my right. And now, so secure an Interpreter I am of my
chance, that neither praise, nor dispraise shal affect me.
There rests, only, that we giue the description (we
promis’d) of the Scene, which was the House of Fame,
The Structure, and Ornament of which (as is profest
below) was entirely Mr. Iones his invention, and de-
signe First, for the lower Columne, he chose the Sta-
tues of the most excellent Poets, as Homer, Virgil, Lucan,
&c. as being the substantiall supporters of Fame. For
the upper, Achilles, Aeneas, (a[ill], and those great He-
roes, which these Poets, had celebrated. All which
stood, as in massy gold, Betweene the Pillars, vnder-
neath, were figur’d Land-battayles, Sea-fights, Triumphs,
Loves, Sacrifices, and all magnificent subiects of honor:
in brasse, and heightened with silver. In which, he pro-
fest to follow that noble description, made by Chaucer,
of the place. Above were [ill]ed the Masquers, ouer
whose heads he devis’d two eminet Figures of Honor, &
Vertue, for the Arch. The Freezes, both below, & aboue,
were fill’d with several-color’d lights, like Emeralds, Ru-
bies, Saphyres, Carbuncles, &c. the reflex of which, with
other lights, placed in the Concave, upon the Masquers
habits, was full of glory. These habits had in them the
excellency of all device and riches; and were worthi-
ly varied by his invention, so the Nations, whereof they
were Queenes. Nor are these alone, his due, but diuers
other accessions to the strangenesse, and beauty of the
Spectacle: as the Hell, the going about of the Chariots,
the binding the Witches, the turning Machine, with the
presentation of Fame. All which I willingly acknow-
ledge for him: since it is a vertue, planted in good na-
tures, that what respects they wish to obtaine fruitful-
ly from others, they will giue ingenuously themselues.
By this time, imagine the Masquers descended; and
againe mounted into three triumphant Chariots, ready
to come forth. The first foure were drawne with Ea-
gles, (whereof I gave the reason, as of the rest, in Fames
speech) their foure Torchbearers, attending on the Cha-
riot sides, and foure of the Hagges, bound before them.
Then followed the second, drawne by Griffons, with
their Torch-bearers, and foure other Hagges. Then the
last, which was drawne by Lyons, and more eminent;
(wherein her Maiesty was) and had fixe Torch-bearers
more, (peculiar to her) with the like number of Haggs.
After which, a full triumphant Musique, singing this
Song, while they rode, in State, about the stage.
Helpe, helpe all tongues, to celebrate this wonder:
The voice of FAME should be as loud as thunder.
Her House is all of echo made,
Where mever dyes the sound;
And, as her browes the cloudes invade,
Her feete do strike the ground.
Sing then good Fame, that’s out of Vertue borne:
For, who doth Fame neglect, doth Vertue scorne.
Here they lighted from their Chariots, and daunc’d
forth their first Daunce; then a second, immediately follo-
wing it: both right curious, and full of subtile and ex-
cellent changes, and seem’d perform’d with no lesse
spirits, then of those they personated. The first was to
the Cornets, the second to the Vyolenes. After which,
they tooke out the men, and daunc’d the Measures; en-
tertaining the time, almost to the space of an houre,
with singular variety: when, to give them rest, from the
Musique which attended the Chariots, by that most ex-
cellent tenor voyce, and exact singer (her Maiesties ser-
vant, M.Io.Allin) this Ditty was song.
When all the Ages of the earth
Where crown’d, but in this famous Birth;
And that, when they would boast their store
Of worthy Queenes, they knew no more:
How happier is that Age, can give
A Queene, in whom all they do live!
After it, succeeded their third Daunce; then which,
a more numerous composition could not be seene: Gra-
phically disposed into Letters, & honouring the Name
of the most sweete and ingenious Prince, Charles, Duke
of Yorke. Wherein, beside that principall grace of per-
spicuity, the Motions were so even and apt, and their
expression so iust; as if Mathematicians had lost Proporti-
on, they might there have found it. The Author was M.
Tho.Giles. After this, they daunc’d Galliards, and Cor-
rantos. And then their last Daunce, no lesse elegant (in
the place) then the rest. with which they tooke their
Chariots againe, and triumphing about the Stage, had
their returne to the House of Fame celebrated with this
last Song; whose Notes (as the former) were the worke,
and honor of my excellent friend, Alfonso Ferrabosco.
Who, Virtue, can thy power forget,
That sees these live, and triumph yet?
Th’Assyrian pompe, the Persian pride,
Greekes glory, and the Romans dy’de:
And who yet imitate
Their noyses, tary the same fate.
Force Greatnesse all the glorious wayes
You can, it soone decayes;
But so good Fame shall never:
Her Triumphs, as their causes, are for ever.
To conclude which, I know no worthier way of Epi-
logue, then the celebration of who were the Celebra-
ters.