The third, silver & crimson.

The fourth, silver & White.

"All after the Romane forme, adorned with much embossed and carved workes, and each of them wrought with silver, and his seuerall colour; they were mounted on carriages, the Spring trees, Pole and Axle-trees, the Charioters seate, and standers, wheeles, with the fellyes, spokes, and naves all wrought with Silver, and their severall colour.

"They were all drawne with foure Horses a-front after the magnificent Romane Triumphs, their furniture, Harnesse, Headstall, Bits, Raines, and Traces, Shaferon, Cronet, Petronell, and Barbe of rich cloth of Silver, of severall workes, and colours answerable to the linings of the Chariots." (p. 4-5 )

We have detailed thus much of the procession, in order to give our readers a notion of the enormous sums expended even in the preparations for a masque. These were Court pleasures, in which the people at large were allowed to enjoy their share of delight. The masque itself opens with a great deal of antemasquing, prepared by Fancy, and acted by him, Opinion, Laughter, Jollity, &c. A part of it is a ridicule of what were then called Projectors, and now Schemers, of different kinds, the humour of which is not now very intelligible: we shall therefore omit it, and give a quotation from the more serious portion of the piece.

"The Antimasquers being gone, there appeares in the highest and formost part of the heaven, by little and little, to breake forth a whitish Cloude, bearing a Chariot fained of Goldsmiths-worke, and in it sat Irene, or Peace, in a flowery vesture like the spring, a Garland of Olives on her head, a branch of Palme in her hand, Buskins of greene Taffata, great puffs about her necke and shoulders.

Shee sings.

"Ir. Hence yee profane, farre hence away,
Time hath sicke feathers while you stay,
Is this delight,

For such a glorious night,

Wherein two skies

are to be seene,

One starry, but an aged sphere;

another here,

Created new and brighter from the Eyes
of King and Queene?

Cho.

Hence you prophane, farre hence away,
Time hath sicke feathers while you stay.

Song 2.

"Ir. Wherefore doe my sisters stay!
Appeare, appeare Eunomia,
'Tis Irene calls to thee,
Irene calls,

Like dew that falls

Into a streame,

I'me lost with them

That know not how to order me.

Cho.

See where shee shines, oh see

In her celestiall gayety,

Crownd with a wreath of Starres, to shew
The Evening glory in her brow.

"Here out of the highest part of the opposite side came softly descending another Cloud, of an orient colour, bearing a silver Chariot curiously wrought, and differing in all things from the first, in which sate Eunomia or Law, in a purple Sattin Robe, adorn'd with golden Starres, a mantle of carnation Lac'd, and Fring'd with Gold, a Coronet of light upon her head, Buskins of Purple, drawne out with Yellow.

"Eu. Thinke not I could absent my selfe this night,
But Peace is gentle, and doth still invite
Eunomia; yet shouldst thou silent be

The Rose and Lilly which thou strowest
All the cheereful way thou goest

Would direct to follow thee.
Ir. Thou dost beautifie increase,
And chaine security with peace.

Eu. Irene faire, and first divine,

All my blessings spring from thine.

Ir. I am but wilde without thee, thou abhorrest
What is rude, or apt to wound,

Canst throw proud Trees to the ground,
And make a Temple of a Forrest.

Eu. No more, no more, but ioyne

The voyce and Lute with mine.

Both. The world shall give prerogative to neyther,

Wee cannot flourish but together." (p. 12-14.)

Irene and Eunomia are joined by Dice, or Justice, who address the following song to the King and Queen, which, though extravagant in its flattery, is beautifully expressed. "To you, great King and Queene, whose smile Doth scatter blessings through this Ile,

To make it best

And wonder of the rest,

We pay the duty of our birth;
Proud to waite upon that Earth
Whereon you moue,

Which shall be nam'd

And by your chast embraces fam'd,
The Paradise of loue.

Irene plant thy Olives here,

Thus warm'd, at once, theyle bloome and beare ;
Eunomia pay thy light,

While Dice, covetous to stay,

Shall throw her silver Wings away,

To dwell within your sight." (p. 16.)

The sixteen sons of Peace, Law, and Justice, then dance with the hours, and after various anti-masques and songs, the scene again changes (having undergone frequent previous alterations, described by Shirley with glowing admiration), and Amphiluche, or the Morning Star, enters, and gives warning of the approach of day: previous to her song the company, both ladies and gentleman, had joined the masquers in their lively revels. The masque of Peace concludes with a song gracefully describing the appearance of day-light.

Although there is no great display or invention in this composition it is light and fanciful; the songs are easy and elegant, and the whole may be considered a pattern in its kind. Ben Jonson bestowed more labour, Chapman more learning, but they are both qualities ill-suited to such productions, and Shirley is infinitely superior to Heywood, Middleton, or Nabbes, all of whom were his rivals in this and other theatrical performances. We have been more particular in our account of this piece, because, though many reprints of old comedies and tragedies have been recently undertaken, none have thought it worth while to investigate the nature of representations which employed the pens of the first men in the best age of English poetry.

Shirley's other masque is entituled Cupid and Death, 1653, which is more ingenious in its construction, though the design is borrowed from L. II. Eleg. 6. of Secundus. Mr. Gifford has quoted it in vol. I. of his Massinger, in explanation of an allusion of that poet, and without being aware that Shirley had actually founded a piece upon it. We might quote it as the argument of Cupid and Death, had we sufficient space: we can observe only, that the

masque displays the misfortunes and perplexities occasioned in the world by an exchange of darts made by Cupid and Death, with considerable humour and much variety. In the end Mercury, commissioned from Jupiter, restores to each their own; and the conclusion represents Elyzium, where the lovers who had been killed by Cupid, with their mistresses, enjoy all sorts of happiness.

Shirley has besides three other compositions, usually denominated Masques, but which in reality are not so, but private entertainments, as he himself calls two of them. These are, "A Contention for Honour and Riches," 1633, afterwards extended to a comedy, under the title of "Honoria and Mammon," 1659, and to which was added, in the same volume," The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses for the Armour of Achilles." The third piece of this kind is "The Triumph of Beautie, 1646, upon the same subject as "The Arraignment of Paris," referred to in a preceding note. All that, till lately, was known of Shirley, was from a song at the end of "The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses," beginning "The glories of our blood and state ;" and to be found in the Elegant Extracts. We furnish our readers with a short extract from the argument on both sides, in which the two Grecian heroes are admirably contrasted.

"Ajax. What hath Ulysses done, he should be nam'd With Telamon; we have his Chronicle,

He surpriz'd Rhesus in his Tent, a great

And goodly act; nay, had the heart to kill him ;
He snatch'd a spy up, Dolon, and dispatcht him
To the other world, a most heroic service!
And had the confidence to filch from Troy,
The dead Palladium, memorable actions:
Fought he with Hector? did he stand unmov'd
As I, when I receiv'd upon my cask,

A mighty Javelin that he darted at me?
When you, pale with the wonder of my strength,
Forsook your prayers, and gave me from the Gods
Into my own protection, and at last

I was not overcome, but in the face

Of both the Armies, sent this mighty Champion
Staggering home to Troy.

"Nes. Twas a fierce battel,

And Ajax lost no honour.

Aja. Had I done

But this alone, it might be argument

To prefer Ajax Telamon before

Ulysses to that armour; which I'm thinking
How he'l become, or how he dare sustain 'em,

Their very weight will crack his chine, that Burgonet
Will bring his neck in danger of a cramp;
In pitty of his fears, discharge his hope
Of so much steel, he has the art of running,
"Twill much retard his motion: Are you yet
Considering as doubtful to distinguish us?
Some God convey those arms upon the wings
Of a swift wind into the enemies camp,
Guard 'em with all the strength and soul of Troy,
Let every sword mount death upon the point,
And leave us to our single fate, who soonest
Should fetch 'em off: Then you should tell your
selves,
How much this Carpet Prince came short of Ajax,
I had rather fight than talk: Now here him tattle.
"Souldiers. An Ajax, an Ajax.

Ulysses. If my prayers, with your own, renovvned Kings, Could have prevail'd with Heaven, there had been no

Contention for these arms, he might have liv'd

To have enjoy'd them still, and we Achilles.
But since by the unkindeness of our fate,
We are decreed to want him (pardon me
If at that word, unmanly tears break forth)
Who can vvith greater merit claim the armour
Than he whose piety to Greece and you,
Engag'd alone his valour to these Wars,
And made him yours. Nor let it be a sin
Ere I proceed, to pray this justice from you,
That since my adversary hath been pleas'd
To make a vertue my reproach, and stain

The name of Eloquence, vvhich in me, is not vvorth
Your envy, or his rage (since he declares
His incapacity for more than fighting)
You will not judge his dulness an advantage,
Or that which he calls eloquence in me,
A blemish to my cause, vvho have employ'd

All that the Gods made mine, to serve my countrey."

"The Triumph of Beautie"* has more poetry than either of the others: a very short specimen must suffice, from the speech of Venus in reply to Juno and Pallas.

"Poets have feigned Elysium after death,

Which thou shalt here possesse, and all the pleasure
Of those blest shades they talke of in their songs,
Shall spread themselves before thee, which thou shalt
Posssesse as Lord not Tenant to the Groves.

It shall be ever Spring and ever Summer
Where Paris shall inhabit, all rude aires

* It is worth remarking, that the scene between the Clowns, with which this piece opens, is imitated from the Pyramus and Thisbe tragedy in Midsummer Night's Dream.