Chapter X: Epilogue: Gentlemen, (1)

We must confess that we have vented ware
Not always vendable: masques are more rare
Than plays are common; at most but twice a-year
In their most glorious shapes do they appear;
Which, if you please accept, we’ll keep in store
Our debted loves, and thus entreat you more;
Invert the proverb now, and suffer not
That which is seldom seen be soon forgot.

PART OF THE ENTERTAINMENT
TO KING JAMES,
&c.

_The Magnificent Entertainment: Giuen to King James,
Queene Anne his wife, and Henry Frederick the Prince,
vpon the day of his Maiesties Tryumphant Passage (from
the Tower) through his Honourable Citie (and Chamber) of
London, being the 15. of March. 1603. As well by the
English as by the Strangers: With the speeches and
Songes, deliuered in the seuerall Pageants. Mart. Templa
Deis, mores populis dedit, otia ferro,_

_Astra suis, Cælo sydera, serta Joui.
Tho. Dekker._

_Imprinted at London by T. C. for Tho. Man the yonger._
1604. 4to.

Of this pageant (which is reprinted in Nichols’s _Prog.
of King James_, vol. i. p. 337,) Middleton wrote only
the speech of Zeal (see p. 210); but in order to make
that speech intelligible, I have given a portion of the
prose description which precedes it.

PART OF THE

ENTERTAINMENT TO KING JAMES,

&c.

----------

Our next arch of triumph was erected above the Conduit
in Fleet Street, into which, as into the long and
beauteous gallery of the city, his Majesty being
entered, afar off—as if it had been some swelling
promontory, or rather, some enchanted castle guarded by
ten thousand harmless spirits—did his eye encounter
another tower of pleasure

Presenting itself,

Fourscore and ten foot in height, and fifty in breadth;
the gate twenty foot in the perpendicular line, and
fourteen in the ground line: the two posterns were
answerable to these that are set down before: over the
posterns, viz. up in proportionable measures, two
turrets with battlements on the tops. The middest of the
building was laid open to the world, and great reason it
should be so, for the Globe of the world was there seen
to move, being filled with all the degrees and states
that are in the land; and these were the mechanical and
dead limbs of this carved body. As touching those that
had the use of motion in it, and for a mind durst have
spoken, but that there was no stuff fit for their
mouths.

The principal and worthiest was ASTRÆA (Justice),
sitting aloft, as being newly descended from heaven,
gloriously attired, all her garments being thickly
strewed with stars; a crown of stars on her head, a
silver veil covering her eyes. Having told you that
her name was Justice, I hope you will not put me to
describe what properties[273] she held in her hands,
sithence[274] every painted cloth[275] can inform you.

Directly under her, in a cant[276] by herself, was ARETE
(Virtue), enthroned, her garments white, her head
crowned; and under her, FORTUNA, her foot treading on
the Globe that moved beneath her, intimating that his
Majesty’s fortune was above the world, but his virtues
above his fortune.

INVIDIA,

Envy, unhandsomely attired all in black, her hair of the
same colour, filleted about with snakes, stood in a dark
and obscure place by herself, near unto Virtue, but
making shew of a fearfulness to approach her and the
light, yet still and anon casting her eyes sometimes to
the one side beneath, where, on several greeces,[277]
sat the Four Cardinal Virtues,

{ JUSTITIA, }
{ FORTITUDO, } In habiliments fitting
Viz. { TEMPERANTIA, } to their natures;
{ PRUDENTIA, }

and sometimes throwing a distorted and repining
countenance to the other opposite seat, on which his
Majesty’s Four Kingdoms were advanced,

{ ENGLAND,
Viz. { SCOTLAND,
{ FRANCE,
{ IRELAND,

all of them in rich robes and mantles; crowns on their
heads, and sceptres with penciled[278] scutcheons in
their hands, lined with the coats of the particular
kingdoms. For very madness that she beheld these
glorious objects, she stood feeding on the heads of
adders.

The FOUR ELEMENTS, in proper shapes,[279] artificially
and aptly expressing their qualities, upon the approach
of his Majesty went round in a proportionable and even
circle, touching that cantle[280] of the Globe (which
was open) to the full view of his Majesty: which being
done, they bestowed themselves in such comely order, and
stood so as if the eronie[281] had been held up on the
tops of their fingers.

Upon distinct ascensions, neatly raised within the
hollow womb of the Globe, were placed all the states of
the land, from the nobleman to the ploughman, among whom
there was not one word to be heard, for you must
imagine, as Virgil saith,

Egl. iv. } _Magnus ab integro seclorum nascitur ordo_,
Astræa. } _Jam redit et virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna_,

that it was now the golden world, in which there were
few parts.

All the tongues that went in this place was the tongue
of Zeal, whose personage was put on by W. Bourne, one of
the servants to the young Prince;

And thus went his Speech.

The populous globe of this our English isle
Seem’d to move backward at the funeral pile
Of her dead female majesty; all states,
From nobles down to spirits of meaner fates,
Mov’d opposite to nature and to peace,
As if these men had been th’ Antipodes:
But see the virtue of a regal eye,
Th’ attractive wonder of man’s majesty!
Our Globe is drawn in a right line agen,[282]
And now appear new faces and new men.
The Elements, Earth, Water, Air, and Fire,
Which ever clipt[283] a natural desire
To combat each with other, being at first
Created enemies to fight their worst,
See, at the peaceful presence of their King,
How quietly they mov’d without their sting!
Earth not devouring, Fire not defacing,
Water not drowning, and the Air not chasing,
But propping the quaint fabric that here stands,
Without the violence of their wrathful hands.
Mirror of times, lo, where thy Fortune sits,
Above the world and all our human wits,
But thy high Virtue above that! what pen,
Or art, or brain, can reach thy virtue then?
At whose immortal brightness and true light
Envy’s infectious eyes have lost their sight;
Her snakes, not daring to shoot forth their stings
’Gainst such a glorious object, down she flings
Their forks of venom into her own maw,
Whilst her rank teeth the glittering poisons chaw;
For ’tis the property of Envy’s blood
To dry away at every kingdom’s good,
Especially when she had eyes to view
These four main virtues figur’d all in you,—
Justice in causes, Fortitude ’gainst foes,
Temperance in spleen, and Prudence in all those:
And then so rich an empire, whose fair breast
Contains four kingdoms, by your entrance blest;
By Brute divided, but by you alone
All are again united and made one;
Whose fruitful glories shine so far and even,
They touch not only earth, but they kiss heaven,
From whence Astræa is descended hither,
Who with our last queen’s spirit fled up thither,
Foreknowing on the earth she could not rest,
Till you had lock’d her in your rightful breast:
And therefore all estates, whose proper arts
Live by the breath of majesty, had hearts
Burning in holy zeal’s immaculate fires,
With quenchless ardours and unstain’d desires,
To see what they now see, your powerful grace
Reflecting joys on every subject’s face;
These painted flames and yellow burning stripes
Upon this robe, being but as shows and types
Of that great zeal: and therefore, in the name
Of this glad city, whither no prince e’er came
More lov’d, more long’d for, lowly I entreat,
You’d be to her as gracious as you’re great:
So with reverberate shouts our Globe shall ring,
The music’s close being thus—God save our King!

If there be any glory to be won by writing these lines,
I do freely bestow it, as his due, on Tho. Middleton, in
whose brain they were begotten, though they were
delivered here: _quæ nos non fecimus ipsi, vix ea nostra
voco_.

THE TRIUMPHS OF TRUTH,

AND

THE ENTERTAINMENT AT THE OPENING
OF THE NEW RIVER.

_The Triumphs of Truth. A Solemnity unparalleld for
Cost, Art, and Magnificence, at the Confirmation and
Establishment of that Worthy and true Nobly-minded
Gentleman, Sir Thomas Middleton, Knight; in the
Honorable Office of his Maiesties Lieuetenant, the Lord
Maior of the thrice Famous Citty of London. Taking
Beginning at his Lord-ships going, and proceeding after
his Returne from receiuing the Oath of Maioralty at
Westminster, on the Morrow next after Simon and Iudes
day, October 29. 1613. All the Showes, Pageants,
Chariots; Morning, Noone, and Night-Triumphes. Directed,
Written, and redeem’d into Forme, from the Ignorance of
some former times, and their Common Writer, By Thomas
Middleton. Shewing also his Lordships Entertainement
upon Michaelmas day last, being the day of his Election,
at that most Famous and Admired Worke of the Running
Streame, from Amwell-Head into the Cesterne at
Islington, being the sole Cost, Industry and Inuention
of the Worthy Mr. Hugh Middleton of London, Goldsmith.
London, Printed by Nicholas Okes._ 1613. 4to.

Of this pageant there is an earlier edition by the same
printer and with the same date, but wanting the
Entertainment at the New River Head.

_The Triumphs of Truth_, &c., is reprinted in Nichols’s
_Progresses of K. James_, vol. ii. p. 679.

_To the great expectation of virtue and goodness, and
most worthy of all those costs and honours which the
noble Fellowship and Society of Grocers, and general
love of the whole City, in full-heaped bounties
bestow upon him, the truly generous and judicious_
SIR THOMAS MIDDLETON, _Knight, Lord Mayor of the
honourable City of London_.

As often as we shall fix our thoughts upon the Almighty
Providence, so often they return to our capacities laden
with admiration, either from the divine works of his
mercy or those incomprehensible of his justice: but here
to instance only his omnipotent mercy, it being the
health and preservation of all his works; and first, not
only in raising, but also in preserving your lordship
from many great and incident dangers, especially in
foreign countries, in the time of your youth and
travels; and now, with safety, love, and triumph, to
establish you in this year’s honour, crowning the
perfection of your days, and the gravity of your life,
with power, respect, and reverence: next, in that
myself, though unworthy, being of one name with your
lordship, notwithstanding all oppositions of malice,
ignorance, and envy, should thus happily live, protected
by part of that mercy—as if one fate did prosperously
cleave to one name—now to do service to your fame and
worthiness, and my pen only to be employed in these
bounteous and honourable triumphs, being but shadows to
those eternal glories that stand ready for deservers; to
which I commend the deserts of your justice, remaining
ever,

To your Lordship,

In the best of my observance,

THOMAS MIDDLETON.

THE TRIUMPHS OF TRUTH.

----------

Search all chronicles, histories, records, in what
language or letter soever; let the inquisitive man waste
the dear treasures of his time and eyesight, he shall
conclude his life only in this certainty, that there is
no subject upon earth received into the place of his
government with the like state and magnificence as is
the Lord Mayor of the city of London. This being, then,
infallible—like the mistress of our triumphs—and not to
be denied of any, how careful ought those gentlemen to
be, to whose discretion and judgment the weight and
charge of such a business is entirely referred and
committed by the whole Society, to have all things
correspondent to that generous and noble freeness of
cost and liberality; the streams of art to equal those
of bounty; a knowledge that may take the true height of
such an honourable solemnity,—the miserable want of both
which, in the impudent common writer, hath often forced
from me much pity and sorrow; and it would heartily
grieve any understanding spirit to behold, many times,
so glorious a fire in bounty and goodness offering to
match itself with freezing Art, sitting in darkness,
with the candle out, looking like the picture of Black
Monday.[284]

But, to speak truth, which many beside myself can affirm
upon knowledge, a care that hath been seldom equalled,
and not easily imitated, hath been faithfully shewn in
the whole course of this business, both by the wardens
and committees, men of much understanding, industry, and
carefulness, little weighing the greatness of expense,
so the cost might purchase perfection, so fervent hath
been their desire to excel in that, which is a learned
and virtuous ambition, and so unfeignedly pure the loves
and affections of the whole Company to his lordship. If
any shall imagine that I set fairer colours upon their
deserts than they upon themselves, let them but read and
conceive, and their own understandings will light them
to the acknowledgment of their errors. First, they may
here behold love and bounty opening with the morning,
earlier than some of former years, ready, at the first
appearing of his lordship, to give his ear a taste of
the day’s succeeding glory; and thus the form of it
presents itself:—

At Soper-Lane end a senate-house erected, upon which
musicians sit playing; and more to quicken time, a sweet
voice married to these words:

_The Song._

_Mother of many honourable sons,
Think not the glass too slowly runs
That in Time’s hand is set,
Because thy worthy son appears not yet:
Lady, be pleas’d, the hour grows on,
Thy joy will be complete anon;
Thou shall behold
The man enroll’d
In honour’s books, whom virtue raises;
Love-circled round,
His triumphs crown’d
With all good wishes, prayers, and praises._

_What greater comfort to a mother’s heart,
Than to behold her son’s desert
Go hand in hand with love,
Respect, and honour, blessings from above?
It is of power all griefs to kill,
And with a flood of joy to fill
Thy aged eyes,
To see him rise
With glory deck’d, where expectation,
Grace, truth, and fame,
Met in his name,
Attend[285] his honour’s confirmation._[286]

After this sweet air hath liberally spent itself, at the
first appearing of the Lord Mayor from Guildhall in the
morning, a trumpet placed upon that scaffold sounds
forth his welcome; then, after a strain or two of music,
a grave feminine shape presents itself from behind a
silk curtain, representing London, attired like a
reverend mother, a long white hair naturally flowing on
either side of her; on her head a model of steeples and
turrets; her habit crimson silk, near to the honourable
garment of the city; her left hand holding a key of
gold: who, after a comely grace, equally mixed with
comfort and reverence, sends from her lips this motherly
salutation:

_The speech of_ LONDON.

Honour and joy salute thee! I am rais’d
In comfort and in love to see thee, glad
And happy in thy blessings; nor esteem
My words the less ’cause I a woman speak,
A woman’s counsel is not always weak.
I am thy mother; at that name I know
Thy heart does reverence to me, as becomes
A son of honour, in whose soul burn[287] clear
The sacred lights of divine fear and knowledge;
I know that, at this instant, all the works
Of motherly love in me, shewn to thy youth,
When it was soft and helpless, are summ’d up
In thy most grateful mind: thou well remember’st
All my dear pains and care; with what affection
I cherish[’d] thee in my bosom, watchful still
Over thy ways;
Set wholesome and religious laws before
The footsteps of thy youth; shew’d thee the way
That led thee to the glory of this day,—
To which, with tears of the most fruitful joy
That ever mother shed, I welcome thee:
O, I could be content to take my part
Out of felicity only in weeping,
Thy presence and this day are[288] so dear to me!
Look on my age, my honourable son,
And then begin to think upon thy office;
See how on each side of me hang the cares
Which I bestow’d on thee, in silver hairs;
And now the faith, the love, the zealous fires
With which I cheer’d thy youth, my age requires.
The duty of a mother I have shewn,
Through all the rites of pure affection,
In care, in government, in wealth, in honour,
Brought thee to what thou art, thou’st all from me;
Then what thou shouldst be I expect from thee.
Now to thy charge, thy government, thy cares,
Thy mother in her age submits her years:
And though—to my abundant grief I speak it,
Which now o’erflows my joy—some sons I have
Thankless, unkind, and disobedient,
Rewarding all my bounties with neglect,
And will of purpose wilfully retire
Themselves from doing grace and service to me,
When they’ve got all they can, or hope for, from me,—
The thankfulness in which thy life doth move
Did ever promise fairer fruits of love,
And now they shew themselves; yet they have all
My blessing with them, so the world shall see
’Tis their unkindness, no defect in me.
But go thou forward, my thrice-honour’d son
In ways of goodness; glory is best won
When merit brings it home; disdain all titles
Purchas’d with coin, of honour take thou hold
By thy desert, let others buy’t with gold;
Fix thy most serious thought upon the weight
Thou goest to undergo, ’tis the just government
Of this fam’d city,—me, whom nations call
Their brightest eye; then with great care and fear
Ought I to be o’erseen, to be kept clear:
Spots[289] in deformed faces are scarce noted,
Fair cheeks are stain’d if ne’er so little blotted.
See’st thou this key of gold? it shews thy charge:
This place is the king’s chamber; all pollution,
Sin, and uncleanness, must be lock’d out here,
And be kept sweet with sanctity, faith, and fear:
I see grace take effect,—heaven’s joy upon her!
’Tis rare when virtue opes the gate to honour.
My blessing be upon thee, son and lord,
And on my sons all, that obey my word!

Then making her honour, as before, the Waits of the city
there in service, his Lordship, and the worthy Company,
are led forward toward the waterside, where you shall
find the river[290] decked in the richest glory to
receive him; upon whose crystal bosom stand[291] five
islands, artfully garnished with all manner of Indian
fruit-trees, drugs, spiceries, and the like; the middle
island with a fair castle especially beautified.

But making haste to return to the city again, where
triumph waits in more splendour and magnificence,
the first then that attends to receive his Lordship
off the water at Baynard’s-Castle, is Truth’s Angel
on horseback, his raiment of white silk powdered
with stars of gold; on his head a crown of gold, a
trumpeter before him on horseback, and Zeal, the
champion of Truth, in a garment of flame-coloured
silk, with a bright hair on his head, from which
shoot fire-beams, following close after him, mounted
alike, his right hand holding a flaming scourge,
intimating thereby that as he is the manifester of
Truth, he is likewise the chastiser of Ignorance and
Error.

_The salutation of the_ ANGEL.

I have within mine eye my blessèd charge:
Hail, friend of Truth! safety and joy attend[292] thee;
I am Truth’s Angel, by my mistress sent
To guard and guide thee. When thou took’st thy oath
I stood on thy right hand, though to thy eye
In visible form I did not then appear;
Ask but thy soul, ’twill tell thee I stood near;
And ’twas a time to take care of thee then,
At such a marriage, before heaven and men,
Thy faith being wed to honour; close behind thee
Stood Error’s minister, that still sought to blind thee,
And wrap his subtle mists about thy oath,
To hide it from the nakedness of Troth,
Which is Truth’s purest glory; but my light,
Still as it shone, expell’d her blackest spite;
His mists fled by, yet all I could devise
Could hardly keep them from some people’s eyes,
But thine they flew from: thy care’s but begun,
Wake on, the victory is not half yet won;
Thou wilt be still assaulted, thou shalt meet
With many dangers that in voice seem sweet,
And ways most pleasant to a worldling’s eye;
My mistress has but one, but that leads high.
To yon triumphant city follow me,
Keep thou to Truth, eternity keeps to thee.

ZEAL.

On boldly, man of honour! thou shalt win;
I am Truth’s champion, Zeal, the scourge of sin.

The trumpet then sounding, the Angel and Zeal rank
themselves just before his Lordship, and conduct him to
Paul’s-Chain, where, in the south yard, Error in a
chariot with his infernal ministers attends to assault
him, his garment of ash-colour silk, his head rolled in
a cloud, over which stands an owl, a mole on one
shoulder, a bat on the other, all symbols of blind
ignorance and darkness, mists hanging at his eyes. Close
before him rides Envy, his champion, eating of a human
heart, mounted on a rhinoceros, attired in red silk,
suitable to the bloodiness of her manners; her left pap
bare, where a snake fastens; her arms half naked;
holding in her right hand a dart tincted in blood.

_The greeting of_ ERROR.

Art come? O welcome, my triumphant lord,
My glory’s sweetheart! how many millions
Of happy wishes hath my love told out
For this desirèd minute! I was dead
Till I enjoy’d thy presence, I saw nothing,
A blindness thicker than idolatry
Clove to my eyeballs; now I’m all of light,
Of fire, of joy, pleasure runs nimbly through me;
Let’s join together both in state and triumph,
And down with beggarly and friendless Virtue,
That hath so long impoverish’d this fair city;
My beasts shall trample on her naked breast,
Under my chariot-wheels her bones lie prest,
She ne’er shall rise again. Great power this day
Is given into thy hand; make use on’t, lord,
And let thy will and appetite sway the sword;
Down with them all now whom thy heart envìes,
Let not thy conscience come into thine eyes
This twelvemonth, if thou lov’st revenge or gain;
I’ll teach thee to cast mists to blind the plain
And simple eye of man; he shall not know’t,
Nor see thy wrath when ’tis upon his throat;
All shall be carried with such art and wit,
That what thy lust acts shall be counted fit:
Then for attendants that may best observe thee,
I’ll pick out sergeants of my band to serve thee;
Here’s Gluttony and Sloth, two precious slaves,
Will tell thee more than a whole herd of knaves;
The worth of every office to a hair,
And who bids most, and how the markets are,
Let them alone to smell; and, for a need,
They’ll bring thee in bribes for measure and light
bread;
Keep thy eye winking and thy hand wide ope,
Then thou shalt know what wealth is, and the scope
Of rich authority; ho, ’tis sweet and dear!
Make use of time then, thou’st but one poor year,
And that will quickly slide, then be not nice:
Both power and profit cleave[293] to my advice;
And what’s he locks his ear from those sweet charms,
Or runs not to meet gain with wide-stretch’d arms?
There is a poor, thin, threadbare thing call’d Truth,
I give thee warning of her; if she speak,
Stop both thine ears close; most professions break
That ever dealt with her; an unlucky thing,
She’s almost sworn to nothing: I can bring
A thousand of our parish, besides queans,
That ne’er knew what Truth meant, nor ever means;
Some I could cull out here, e’en in this throng,
If I would shew my children, and how strong
I were in faction. ’Las, poor simple stray!
She’s all her lifetime finding out one way;
Sh’as but one foolish way, straight on, right forward,
And yet she makes a toil on’t, and goes on
With care and fear, forsooth, when I can run
Over a hundred with delight and pleasure,
Back-ways and by-ways, and fetch in my treasure
After the wishes of my heart, by shifts,
Deceits, and slights:[294] and I’ll give thee those
gifts;
I’ll shew thee all my corners yet untold,
The very nooks where beldams hide their gold,
In hollow walls and chimneys, where the sun
Never yet shone, nor Truth came ever near:
This of thy life I’ll make the golden year;
Follow me then.

ENVY.

Learn now to scorn thy inferiors, those[295] most love
thee,
And wish to eat their hearts that sit above thee.

Zeal, stirred up with divine indignation at the
impudence of these hell-hounds, both forces their
retirement, and makes way for the chariot wherein Truth
his mistress sits, in a close garment of white satin,
which makes her appear thin and naked, figuring thereby
her simplicity and nearness of heart to those that
embrace her; a robe of white silk cast over it, filled
with the eyes of eagles, shewing her deep insight and
height of wisdom; over her thrice-sanctified head a
milk-white dove, and on each shoulder one, the sacred
emblems of purity, meekness, and innocency; under her
feet serpents, in that she treads down all subtlety and
fraud; her forehead empaled with a diadem of stars, the
witness of her eternal descent; on her breast a pure
round crystal, shewing the brightness of her thoughts
and actions; a sun in her right hand, than which nothing
is truer; a fan, filled all with stars, in her left,
with which she parts darkness, and strikes away the
vapours of ignorance. If you hearken to Zeal, her
champion, after his holy anger is past against Error and
his crew, he will give it you in better terms, or at
least more smoothly and pleasingly.

_The speech of_ ZEAL.

Bold furies, back! or with this scourge of fire,
Whence sparkles out religious chaste desire,
I’ll whip you down to darkness: this a place
Worthy my mistress; her eternal grace
Be the full object to feast all these eyes,
But thine the first—he that feeds here is wise:
Nor by the naked plainness of her weeds
Judge thou her worth, no burnish’d gloss Truth needs;
That crown of stars shews her descent from heaven;
That robe of white, fill’d all with eagles’ eyes,
Her piercing sight through hidden mysteries;
Those milk-white doves her spotless innocence;
Those serpents at her feet her victory shews
Over deceit and guile, her rankest foes;
And by that crystal mirror at her breast
The clearness of her conscience is exprest;
And shewing that her deeds all darkness shun,
Her right hand holds Truth’s symbol, the bright sun;
A fan of stars she in her other twists,
With which she chaseth away Error’s mists:
And now she makes to thee her so even grace,
For to her rich and poor look with one face.

_The words of_ TRUTH.

Man, rais’d by faith and love, upon whose head
Honour sits fresh, let not thy heart be led,
In ignorant ways of insolence and pride,
From her that to this day hath been thy guide;
I never shew’d thee yet more paths than one,
And thou hast found sufficient that alone
To bring thee hither; then go forward still,
And having most power, first subject thy will;
Give the first fruits of justice to thyself,—
Then dost thou wisely govern, though that elf
Of sin and darkness, still opposing me,
Counsels thy appetite to master thee.
But call to mind what brought thee to this day,—
Was falsehood, cruelty, or revenge the way?
Thy lust or pleasures? people’s curse or hate?
These were no ways could raise thee to this state,
The ignorant must acknowledge; if, then, from me,
Which no ill dare deny or sin control,
Forsake me not, that can advance thy soul:
I see a blessed yielding in thy eye;
Thou’rt mine; lead on, thy name shall never die.

These words ended, they all set forward, this chariot of
Truth and her celestial handmaids, the Graces and
Virtues, taking place next before his lordship; Zeal and
the Angel before that, the chariot of Error following as
near as it can get; all passing on till they come into
Paul’s-Churchyard, where stand ready the five islands,
those dumb glories that I spake of before upon the
water: upon the heighth of these five islands sit five
persons, representing the Five Senses,[296]—_Visus_,
_Auditus_, _Tactus_, _Gustus_, _Olfactus_, or, Seeing,
Hearing, Touching, Tasting, Smelling; at their feet
their proper emblems,—_aquila_, _cervus_, _araneus_,
_simia_, _canis_, an eagle, a hart, a spider, an ape, a
dog.

No sooner can your eyes take leave of these, but they
may suddenly espy a strange ship making toward, and that
which may raise greater astonishment, it having neither
sailor nor pilot, only upon a white silk streamer these
two words set in letters of gold, _Veritate gubernor_,—I
am steered by Truth. The persons that are contained
within this little vessel are only four; a king of the
Moors, his queen, and two attendants, of their own
colour; the rest of their followers people of the castle
that stands in the middle island, of which company two
or three on the top appear[297] to sight. This king
seeming much astonied at the many eyes of such a
multitude, utters his thoughts in these words:

_The speech of that_ KING.

I see amazement set upon the faces
Of these white people, wonderings and strange gazes;
Is it at me? does my complexion draw
So many Christian eyes, that never saw
A king so black before? no, now I see
Their entire object, they’re all meant to thee,
Grave city-governor, my queen and I
Well honour’d with the glances that [pass] by.
I must confess, many wild thoughts may rise,
Opinions, common murmurs, and fix’d eyes,
At my so strange arrival in a land
Where true religion and her temple stand;
I being a Moor, then, in opinion’s lightness,
As far from sanctity as my face from whiteness.
But I forgive the judgings of th’ unwise,
Whose censures ever quicken in their eyes,
Only begot of outward form and show;
And I think meet to let such censurers know,
However darkness dwells upon my face,
Truth in my soul sets up the light of grace;
And though, in days of error, I did run
To give all adoration to the sun,
The moon, and stars, nay, creatures base and poor,
Now only their Creator I adore.
My queen and people all, at one time won
By the religious conversation
Of English merchants, factors, travellers,
Whose Truth did with our spirits hold commèrce,
As their affairs with us; following their path,
We all were brought to the true Christian faith:
Such benefit in good example dwells,
It oft hath power to convert infidels;
Nor could our desires rest till we were led
Unto this place, where those good spirits were bred;
And see how we arriv’d in blessed time
To do that mistress service, in the prime
Of these her spotless triumphs, and t’ attend
That honourable man, her late-sworn friend.
If any wonder at the safe arrive
Of this small vessel, which all weathers drive
According to their rages, where appears
Nor mariner nor pilot, arm’d ’gainst fears,
Know this came hither from man’s guidance free,
Only by Truth steer’d, as our souls must be:
And see where one of her fair temples stands!
Do reverence, Moors, bow low, and kiss your hands:
Behold, our queen.

QUEEN.

Her goodnesses are such,
We cannot honour her and her house too much.

All in the ship and those in the castle bowing their
bodies to the temple of Saint Paul; but Error smiling,
betwixt scorn and anger, to see such a devout humility
take hold of that complexion, breaks into these:

ERROR.

What, have my sweet-fac’d devils forsook me too?
Nay, then, my charms will have enough to do.

But Time, sitting by the frame of Truth his daughter’s
chariot, attired agreeable to his condition, with his
hour-glass, wings, and scythe, knowing best himself when
it is fittest to speak, goes forward in this manner:

This Time hath brought t’effect, for on thy day
Nothing but Truth and Virtue shall display
Their virgin ensigns; Infidelity,
Barbarism, and Guile, shall in deep darkness lie.
O, I could ever stand still thus and gaze!
Never turn glass again; wish no more days,
So this might ever last; pity the light
Of this rich glory must be cas’d in night!
But Time must on; I go,’tis so decreed,
To bless my daughter Truth and all her seed
With joys immortal, triumphs never ending;
And as her hand lifts me, to thy ascending
May it be always ready, worthy son!
To hasten which my hours shall quickly run.
See’st thou yon place?[298] thither I’ll weekly bring
thee,
Where Truth’s celestial harmony thou shalt hear;
To which, I charge thee, bend a serious ear.—
Lead on, Time’s swift attendants!

Then the five islands pass along into Cheapside, the
ship next after them; the chariot of Truth still
before his lordship, and that of Error still chased
before it; where their eyes meet with another more
subtle object, planting itself close by the Little
Conduit, which may bear this character,—the true form
and fashion of a mount triumphant, but the beauty and
glory thereof overspread with a thick, sulphurous
darkness, it being a fog or mist, raised from Error,
enviously to blemish that place which bears the title
of London’s Triumphant Mount, the chief grace and
lustre of the whole triumph. At the four corners sit
four monsters, Error’s disciples, on whom hangs part
of the mist for their clothing, holding in their hands
little thick clubs, coloured like their garments; the
names of these four monsters, Barbarism, Ignorance,
Impudence, Falsehood; who, at the near approaching of
Truth’s chariot, are seen a little to tremble, whilst
her deity gives life to these words:

TRUTH.

What’s here? the mist of Error? dare his spite
Stain this Triumphant Mount, where our delight
Hath been divinely fix’d so many ages?
Dare darkness now breathe forth her insolent rages,
And hang in poisonous vapours o’er the place
From whence we receiv’d love, and return’d grace?
I see if Truth a while but turn her eyes,
Thick are the mists that o’er fair cities rise:
We did expect to receive welcome here
From no deform’d shapes, but divine and clear;
Instead of monsters that this place attends,
To meet with goodness and her glorious friends;
Nor can they so forget me to be far.
I know there stands no other envious bar
But that foul cloud to darken this bright day,
Which with this fan of stars I’ll chase away.—
Vanish, infectious fog, that I may see
This city’s grace, that takes her light from me!

At this her powerful command the [mists][299] vanish
[and] give way; [the] cloud suddenly rises and changes
into a bright-spreading canopy, stuck thick with stars,
and beams of gold shooting forth round about it, the
mount appearing then most rich in beauty and glory, the
four monsters falling flat at the foot of the hill: that
grave, feminine shape, figuring London, sitting in
greatest honour: next above her, in the most eminent
place, sits Religion, the model of a fair temple on her
head and a burning lamp in her hand, the proper emblems
of her sanctity, watchfulness, and zeal; on her right
hand sits Liberality, her head circled with a wreath of
gold, in her hand a cornucopia, or horn of abundance,
out of which rusheth a seeming flood of gold, but no way
flowing to prodigality; for, as the sea is governed by
the moon, so is that wealthy river by her eye, for
bounty must be led by judgment; and hence is artfully
derived the only difference between prodigality and
bounty,—the one deals her gifts with open eyes, the
other blindfold: on her left side sits Perfect Love, his
proper seat being nearest the heart, wearing upon his
head a wreath of white and red roses mingled together,
the ancient witness of peace, love, and union, wherein
consists the happiness of this land, his right hand
holding a sphere, where, in a circle of gold, is
contained all the Twelve Companies’ arms, and therefore
called The Sphere of true Brotherhood, or _Annulus
Amoris_, the Ring of Love: upon his left hand stand two
billing turtles, expressing thereby the happy condition
of mutual love and society: on either side of this mount
are displayed the charitable and religious works of
London—especially the worthy Company of Grocers—in
giving maintenance to scholars, soldiers, widows,
orphans, and the like, where are placed one of each
number: and on the two heights sit Knowledge and
Modesty, Knowledge wearing a crown of stars, in her hand
a perspective glass, betokening both her high judgment
and deep insight: the brow of Modesty circled with a
wreath all of red roses, expressing her bashfulness
and blushings, in her hand a crimson banner filled
with silver stars, figuring the white purity of her
shamefastness; her cheeks not red with shame or guilt,
but with virgin fear and honour. At the back of this
Triumphant Mount, Chastity, Fame, Simplicity, Meekness,
have their seats; Chastity wearing on her head a garland
of white roses, in her hand a white silk banner filled
with stars of gold, expressing the eternity of her
unspotted pureness: Fame next under her, on her head a
crown of silver, and a silver trumpet in her hand,
shewing both her brightness and shrillness: Simplicity
with a milk-white dove upon her head; and Meekness with
a garland of mingled flowers, in her hand a white silk
banner with a red cross, a lamb at her feet, by which
both their conditions are sufficiently expressed. The
mount thus made glorious by the power of Truth, and the
mist expelled, London thus speaks:

LONDON.

Thick scales of darkness, in a moment’s space,
Are fell from both mine eyes; I see the face
Of all my friends about me now most clearly,
Religion’s sisters, whom I honour dearly.
O, I behold the work! it comes from thee,
Illustrious patroness, thou that mad’st me see
In days of blindest ignorance; when this light
Was e’en extinguish’d, thou redeem’st my sight.
Then to thy charge, with reverence, I commend
That worthy son of mine, thy virtuous friend,
Whom, on my love and blessing, I require
To observe thee faithfully, and his desire
To imitate thy will, and there lie bounded;
For power’s a dangerous sea, which must be sounded
With truth and justice, or man soon runs on
’Gainst rocks and shelves of dissolution.
Then, that thou may’st the difference ever know
’Twixt Truth and Error, a few words shall shew:
The many ways that to blind Error slide
Are in the entrance broad, hell-mouth is wide;
But when man enters far, he finds it then
Close, dark, and strait, for hell returns no men:
But the one sacred way which Truth directs,
Only at entrance man’s affection checks,
And is there strict alone; to which place throngs
All world’s afflictions, calumnies, and wrongs;
But having past those, then thou find’st a way
In breadth whole heaven, in length eternal day;
Then, following Truth, she brings thee to that way:
But first observe what works she here requires,
Religion, knowledge, sanctity, chaste desires;
Then charity, which bounty must express
To scholars, soldiers, widows, fatherless:
These have been still my works, they must be thine;
Honour and action must together shine,
Or the best part’s eclips’d: behold but this,
Thy very crest shews bounty, here ’tis put;
Thou giv’st the open hand, keep it not shut,
But to the needy or deserving spirit
Let it spread wide, and heaven enrols that merit.
Do these, and prove my hopeful, worthy son;
Yet nothing’s spoke but needfully must be done:
And so lead forward.

At which words the whole Triumph moves, in his richest
glory, toward the cross in Cheap; at which place Error,
full of wrath and malice to see his mist so chased away,
falls into this fury:

ERROR.

Heart of all the fiends in hell!
Could her beggarly power expel
Such a thick and poisonous mist
Which I set Envy’s snakes to twist?
Up, monsters! was her feeble frown
Of force to strike my officers down?
Barbarism, Impudence, Lies, Ignorance,
All your hell-bred heads advance,
And once again with rotten darkness shroud
This Mount Triumphant: drop down, sulphurous cloud!

At which the mist falls again and hangs over all the
beauty of the mount, not a person of glory seen, only
the four monsters gather courage again and take their
seats, advancing their clubs above their heads; which no
sooner perceived, but Truth in her chariot, making near
to the place, willing still to rescue her friends and
servants from the powers of Ignorance and Darkness,
makes use of these words:

TRUTH.

Dare yet the works of ugliness appear
’Gainst this day’s brightness, and see us so near?
How bold is sin and hell, that yet it dare
Rise against us! but know, perdition’s heir,
’Tis idle to contend against our power:
Vanish again, foul mist, from honour’s bower!

Then the cloud dispersing itself again, and all the
mount appearing glorious, it passeth so on to the
Standard,[300] about which place, by elaborate action
from Error, it falls again, and goes so darkened till it
comes to St. Laurence-Lane end, where, by the former
words by Truth uttered being again chased away, London
thus gratefully requites her goodness:

LONDON.

Eternity’s bright sister, by whose light
Error’s infectious works still fly my sight,
Receive thy servant’s thanks.—Now, Perfect Love,
Whose right hand holds a sphere wherein do move
Twelve blest Societies, whose belov’d increase
Styles it the Ring of Brotherhood, Faith, and Peace,
From thy harmonious lips let them all taste
The golden counsel that makes health long last.

Perfect Love then standing up, holding in his right hand
a sphere, on the other two billing turtles, gives these
words:

PERFECT LOVE.

First, then, I banish from this feast of joy
All excess, epicurism, both which destroy
The healths of soul and body; no such guest
Ought to be welcome to this reverend feast,
Where Truth is mistress; who’s admitted here
Must come for virtue’s love more than for cheer.
These two white turtles may example give
How perfect joy and brotherhood should live;
And they from whom grave order is expected,
Of rude excess must never be detected:
This is the counsel which that lady calls
Golden advice, for by it no man falls:
He that desires days healthful, sound, and blest,
Let moderate judgment serve him at his feast:
And so lead on; may perfect brotherhood shine
Still in [this] sphere, and honour still in thine!

This speech so ended, his lordship and the Companies
pass on to Guildhall; and at their returning back, these
triumphs attend to bring his lordship toward Saint
Paul’s church, there to perform those yearly ceremonial
rites which ancient and grave order hath determined;
Error by the way still busy and in action to draw
darkness often upon that Mount of Triumph, which by
Truth is as often dispersed: then all returning
homewards, full of beauty and brightness, this mount and
the chariot of Truth both placed near to the entrance of
his lordship’s gate near Leadenhall, London, the lady of
that mount, first gives utterance to these words:

LONDON.

Before the day sprang from the morning’s womb
I rose, my care was earlier than the light,
Nor would it rest till I now brought thee home,
Marrying to one joy both thy day and night;
Nor can we call this night, if our eyes count
The glorious beams that dance about this mount;
Sure, did not custom guide ’em, men would say
Two noons were seen together in one day,
The splendour is so piercing: Triumph seems
As if it sparkled, and to men’s esteems
Threw forth his thanks, wrapt up in golden flames,
As if he would give light to read their names,
That were at cost this day to make him shine,
And be as free in thanks as they in coin.
But see, Time checks me, and his scythe stands ready
To cut all off; no state on earth is steady;
Therefore, grave son, the time that is to come
Bestow on Truth; and so thou’rt welcome home.

Time, standing up in Truth’s chariot, seeming to make an
offer with his scythe to cut off the glories of the day,
growing near now to the season of rest and sleep, his
daughter Truth thus meekly stays his hand:

TRUTH.

Father, desist a while, till I send forth
A few words to our friend, that man of worth.—
The power that heaven, love, and the city’s choice,
Have all conferr’d on thee, with mutual voice,
As it is great, reverend, and honourable,
Meet it with equal goodness, strive t’ excel
Thy former self; as thy command exceeds
Thy last year’s state, so let new acts old deeds;
And as great men in riches and in birth—
Heightening their bloods and joining earth to earth—
Bestow their best hours and most serious cares
In choosing out fit matches for their heirs,
So never give thou over day or hour,
Till with a virtue thou hast match’d this power;
For what is greatness if not join’d with grace?
Like one of high blood that hath married base.
Who seeks authority with an ignorant eye,
Is like a man seeks out his enemy;
For where[301] before his follies were not spread,
Or his corruptions, then they’re clearly read
E’en by the eyes of all men; ’tis so pure
A crystal of itself, it will endure
No poison of oppression, bribes, hir’d law,
But ’twill appear soon in some crack or flaw:
Howe’er men soothe their hopes with popular breath,
If not in life, they’ll find that crack in death.
I was not made to fawn or stroke sin smooth;
Be wise and hear me, then, that cannot soothe:
I’ve set thee high now, be so in example,
Made thee a pinnacle in honour’s temple,
Fixing ten thousand eyes upon thy brow;
There is no hiding of thy actions now,
They must abide the light, and imitate me,
Or be thrown down to fire where errors be.
Nor only with these words thy ear I feed,
But give those part that shall in time succeed,
To thee in present, and to them to come,
That Truth may bring you all with honour home
To these your gates, and to those, after these,
Of which your own good actions keep the keys.
Then, as the loves of thy Society
Have[302] flow’d in bounties on this day and thee,
Counting all cost too little for true art,
Doubling rewards there where they found desert,
In thankfulness, justice, and virtuous care,
Perfect their hopes,—those thy requitals are;
With fatherly respect embrace ’em all,
Faith in thy heart and Plenty in thy hall,
Love in thy walks, but Justice in thy state,
Zeal in thy chamber, Bounty at thy gate:
And so to thee and these a blessèd night;—
To thee, fair City, peace, my grace and light!

Trumpets sounding triumphantly, Zeal, the champion of
Truth, on horseback, his head circled with strange
fires, appears to his mistress, and thus speaks:

See yonder, lady, Error’s chariot stands,
Braving the power of your incens’d commands,
Embolden’d by the privilege of Night
And her black faction; yet, to crown his spite,
Which I’ll confound, I burn in divine wrath.

TRUTH.

Strike, then; I give thee leave to shoot it forth.

ZEAL.

Then here’s to the destruction of that seat;
There’s nothing seen of thee but fire shall eat.

At which a flame shoots from the head of Zeal, which,
fastening upon that chariot of Error, sets it on fire,
and all the beasts that are joined to it.

The firework being made by master Humphrey Nichols, a
man excellent in his art; and the whole work and body of
the Triumph, with all the proper beauties of the
workmanship, most artfully and faithfully performed by
John Grinkin; and those furnished with apparel and
porters[303] by Anthony Munday, gentleman.

This proud seat of Error lying now only glowing in
embers—being a figure or type of his lordship’s justice
on all wicked offenders in the time of his government—I
now conclude, holding it a more learned discretion to
cease of myself than to have Time cut me off rudely: and
now let him strike at his pleasure.

_The manner of his Lordship’s Entertainment on
Michaelmas day last, being the day of his honourable
Election, together with the worthy_ SIR JOHN
SWINNERTON, _Knight, then Lord Mayor, the learned
and judicious_ SIR HENRY MONTAGUE, _Knight, master
Recorder, and many of the Right Worshipful the
Aldermen of the City of London, at that most famous
and admired work of the Running Stream, from Amwell
Head into the Cistern near Islington; being the sole
invention, cost, and industry of that worthy master_
HUGH MIDDLETON, _of London, Goldsmith, for the
general good of the City_.

PERFECTION, which is the crown of all invention,
swelling now high with happy welcome to all the glad
well-wishers of her admired maturity, the father and
master of this famous work, expressing thereby both his
thankfulness to heaven and his zeal to the city of
London, in true joy of heart to see his time, travails,
and expenses so successively greeted, this gives
entertainment to that honourable assembly:—

At their first appearing, the warlike music of drums and
trumpets liberally beats the air, sounds as proper as in
battle, for there is no labour that man undertakes
but hath a war within itself, and perfection makes
the conquest; and no few or mean onsets of malice,
calumnies, and slanders, hath this resolved gentleman
borne off, before his labours were invested with
victory, as in this following speech to those honourable
auditors then placed upon the mount is more at large
related.

A troop of labourers, to the number of threescore or
upwards, all in green caps alike, bearing in their hands
the symbols of their several employments in so great a
business, with drums before them, marching twice or
thrice about the cistern, orderly present themselves
before the mount, and after their obeisance,

_The Speech._[304]

Long have we labour’d, long desir’d and pray’d
For this great work’s perfection, and by th’ aid
Of heaven and good men’s wishes ’tis at length
Happily conquer’d, by cost, art, and strength:
After five years’ dear expense in days,
Travail, and pains, beside the infinite ways
Of malice, envy, false suggestions,
Able to daunt the spirit of mighty ones
In wealth and courage, this, a work so rare,
Only by one man’s industry, cost, and care,
Is brought to blest effect, so much withstood,
His only aim the city’s general good;
And where[305] before many unjust complaints,
Enviously seated, have[306] oft caus’d restraints,
Stops, and great crosses, to our master’s charge
And the work’s hindrance, favour now at large
Spreads itself open to him, and commends
To admiration both his pains and ends,
The king’s most gracious love: perfection draws
Favour from princes, and from all applause.
Then, worthy magistrates, to whose content,
Next to the state, all this great care was bent,
And for the public good, which grace requires,
Your loves and furtherance chiefly he desires,
To cherish these proceedings, which may give
Courage to some that may hereafter live,
To practise deeds of goodness and of fame,
And gladly light their actions by his name.
Clerk of the work, reach me the book, to shew
How many arts from such a labour flow.

These lines following are read in the clerk’s book:

First, here’s the overseer, this tried man
An ancient soldier and an artisan;
The clerk; next him the mathematician;
The master of the timber-work takes place
Next after these; the measurer in like case;
Bricklayer and enginer;[307] and after those
The borer and the paviour; then it shews
The labourers next; keeper of Amwell-head;
The walkers last: so all their names are read;
Yet these but parcels of six hundred more
That at one time have been employ’d before;
Yet these in sight and all the rest will say,
That all the week they had their royal pay.

The Speech goes on.

Now for the fruits then: flow forth, precious spring,
So long and dearly sought for, and now bring
Comfort to all that love thee; loudly sing,
And with thy crystal murmur struck together,
Bid all thy true well-wishers welcome hither!

At which words the flood-gate opens, the stream let into
the cistern, drums and trumpets giving it triumphant
welcomes; and, for the close of this their honourable
entertainment, a peal of chambers.[308]

CIVITATIS AMOR,

_&c._