life, but at festival times; and then he caught the heart-burning a whole vacation and half a term after.

Con. The fourth is Earth.

Detr. A shrewd plotting-pated fellow, and a great lover of news. I guess at the rest; Blood is placed near Air, Choler near Fire; Phlegm and Water are sworn brothers, and so are Earth and Melancholy.

Con. Fair nymph of Harmony, be it thy task To sing them down, and rank them in a masque.

A SONG :

During which, the Masquers descend upon the Stage, and take their places for the Dance.

See the Elements conspire:

Nimble Air does court the Earth,
Water does commix with fire,

To give our prince's pleasure birth;
Each delight, each joy, each sweet
In one composition meet,

All the seasons of the year;

Winter does invoke the Spring,

Summer does in pride appear,

Autumn forth its fruits doth bring,
And with emulation pay

Their tribute to this holy-day;

In which the Darling of the Sun is come,

To make this place a new Elysium.

[A DANCE.-Exeunt Masquers..

Win. How do these pleasures please?

Hum. Pleasures!

Boun. Live here,

And be my lord's friend; and thy sports shall

vary

A thousand ways; Invention shall beget

Conceits, as curious as the thoughts of Change Can aim at.

Hum. Trifles! Progress o'er the

year Again, my Raybright; therein like the Sun; As he in Heaven runs his circular course,

So thou on earth run thine; for to be fed

With stale delights, breeds dulness and contempt: Think on the Spring.

Ray. She was a lovely virgin.

Win. My royal lord!

Without offence, be pleased but to afford
Me give you my true figure; do not scorn
My age, nor think, 'cause I appear forlorn,
I serve for no use: 'tis my sharper breath
Does purge gross exhalations from the earth;
My frosts and snows do purify the air

From choking fogs, make the sky clear and fair:
And though by nature cold and chill I be,
Yet I am warm in bounteous charity;

And can, my lord, by grave and sage advice,
Bring you to the happy shades of paradise.
Ray. That wonder! Oh, can you bring me thi-
ther?

Win. I can direct and point you out a path.
Hum. But where's the guide?

Quicken thy spirits, Raybright; I'll not leave

thee:

We'll run the self-same race again, that happiness; These lazy, sleeping, tedious Winter's nights

Become not noble action.

Ray. To the Spring

I am resolv'd-

[Recorders.

The SUN appears above.

Oh, what strange light appears!

The Sun is up, sure.

Sun. Wanton Darling, look,

And worship with amazement.

Omnes. Gracious lord!

Sun. Thy sands are number'd, and thy glass of

frailty

Here runs out to the last.

Here, in this mirror,

Let man behold the circuit of his fortunes;

The season of the Spring dawns like the Morning,
Bedewing Childhood with unrelish'd beauties
Of gaudy sights; the Summer, as the Noon,
Shines in delight of Youth, and ripens strength
To Autumn's Manhood; here the Evening grows,
And knits up all felicity in folly:

Winter at last draws on the Night of Age;
Yet still a humour of some novel fancy
Untasted or untried, puts off the minute
Of resolution, which should bid farewell
To a vain world of weariness and sorrows.

The powers, from whom man does derive the pedi

gree

Of his creation, with a royal bounty

Give him Health, Youth, Delight, for free attendants

To rectify his carriage: to be thankful
Again to them, man should cashier his riots,
His bosom's whorish sweetheart, idle Humour,
His Reason's dangerous seducer, Folly.
Then shall,

Like four straight pillars, the four Elements
Support the goodly structure of mortality;
Then shall the four Complexions, like four
heads

Of a clear river, streaming in his body,
Nourish and comfort every vein and sinew;
No sickness of contagion, no grim death
Or deprivation of Health's real blessings,
Shall then affright the creature built by Heaven,
Reserv'd to immortality. Henceforth
In peace go to our altars, and no more
Question the power of supernal greatness,
But give us leave to govern as we please
Nature and her dominion, who from us

And from our gracious influence, hath both being

And preservation; no replies, but reverence.
Man hath a double guard, if time can win him;
Heaven's power above him, his own peace within

him.

[Exeunt.

I know not on what authority Longbaine speaks, but he expressly attributes the greater part of this Moral Masque to Ford. As far as concerns the last two Acts, I agree with him; and a long and clear examination of this poet's manner enables me to speak with some degree of confidence. But I trace Decker perpetually in the other three Acts, and through the whole of the comic part. I think well of this poet, and should pause before I admitted the inferiority of his genius (as far, at least, as imagination is concerned) to that of Ford: but his rough vigour, and his irregular metre generally enable us to mark the line between him and his more harmonious coadjutor.