2 Faie. If you use the smallest stay,
You'll be overta'en by day.

I Faie. And these beauties will suspect
That their forms you do neglect,
If you do not call them forth.

2 Faie. Or that you have no more worth
Than the coarse and country Fairy,
That doth haunt the hearth, or dairy.

Then followed the measures, corantos, galliards,* &c. till PHOSPHORUs the day-star appeared, and called them away; but first they were invited home by one of the Sylvans, with this

Gentle knights,

SONG.

Know some measure of your nights.
Tell the high graced Oberon,

It is time that we were gone.
Here be forms so bright and airy,
And their motions so they vary,

As they will enchant the Fairy,

If you longer here should tarry.

Phos. To rest, to rest! the herald of the day, Bright Phosphorus, commands you hence; obey.

4 Then followed the measures, corantos, galliards.] "These light skirmishers, (our historian continues,) the faies, having done their devoir, in came the princesses; first the Queen, next the lady Elizabeth's Grace, then the lady Arbella, the countesses of Arundell, Derby, Essex, Dorset, and Montgomery; the lady Hadington, the lady Elizabeth Grey, the lady Winsor, the lady Katharine Peter, the lady Elizabeth Guildford, and the lady Mary Wintoun. By that time these had done, it was high time to go to bed, for it was within half an hour of the sun's rising." To this the speech of Phosphorus alludes.-"The Ambassadors of Spaine, of Venice, and of the Low Countries were present at this and all the rest of these glorious sights, and in truth such they were." Winwood's State Papers, vol. iii. p. 181.

The moon is pale, and spent; and winged night
Makes headlong haste to fly the morning's sight:
Who now is rising from her blushing wars,
And with her rosy hand puts back the stars.
Of which myself the last, her harbinger,
But stay to warn you, that you not defer
Your parting longer: then do I give way,
As Night hath done, and so must you, to Day.

After this, they danced their last dance into the work. And with a full SONG the star vanished, and the whole machine closed.

O yet how early, and before her time,
The envious morning up doth climb,
Though she not love her bed!

What haste the jealous Sun doth make,
His fiery horses up to take,

And once more shew his head!

Lest, taken with the brightness of this night,

The world should wish it last, and never miss his light.

LOVE FREED FROM IGNORANCE

AND FOLLY.

A MASQUE OF HER MAJESTY'S.

LOVE FREED, &c.] The date of this Masque is not mentioned, nor the particular occasion on which it was presented. There is no earlier edition of it than the folio, 1616. Mr. Stephen Jones (a name utterly unworthy of notice, but as the booksellers have connected it with the drama,) assigns the first appearance of all these Masques to 1640. He could grovel in falsehood for the gratification of his senseless enmity to Jonson; but to open one of his volumes for the purpose of ascertaining the truth, appears to have been thought a mere loss of time.