This Masque may be Printed By privilege of a most ancient Record in the Rolls belonging to Prince D'AMOVR.  
T. MAUNSELL. Master of Revels to his HIGHNESS. February. 1635.   

THE TRIUMPHS OF THE PRINCE D'AMOVR. A Masque PRESENTED BY HIS Highness at His Palace in the Middle Temple, the 24th of February 1635.  
LONDON, Printed for Richard Meighen, next to the Middle Temple Gate in Fleetstreet. 1635.   

TO EVERY READER.  
THe intention of this Entertainment to the Prince ELECTOR, being hastily prepared, as from eager hearts that could delay no Ceremony that might render an expression of their Loves: It could not be, but I must share the inconvenience of that haste: since length and aptitude of time is still allowed to these Composures: And this (devised and written in three days) might happily have found an excuse, if the presentation had been as suddenly performed, as it was prepared: but there was a sad necessity for the delay; and I may justly style it a misfortune, that the general work could not receive the benefit of alteration by that unprofitable leisure, which since we have rather lost than enjoyed. Though some Truths are not conveniently urged, this I was forced to say in a malignant time, when most men strive to raise themselves a reputation of wit, by Cavil and Dislike.  
W. D.   

A masque PRESENTED BY his HIGHNESS, at his Palace in the Middle-Temple, the 24 th'. of February, 1635.  
BEFORE the Scene was discovered, the Princes being prepared under the state at the upper end of the Hall; the Master of Ceremonies to the Prince D'AMOVR, receives an Employment by a whisper from his Master, then moves to the Prince Elector (to whom this Entertainment was only directed) and speaks this.  
SIr, this short journey from my Prince's Throne,  
Is meant in Embassy to You alone;  
To You, whom he receives not as his Guest,  
For You are both his Ornament and Feast.  
Although his Greatness is not taught to bow,  
His Subjects fear, he will do homage now,  
Which he esteems no less'ning to his State,  
Since 'tis his Love decrees it, not his Fate.  
Nay more, his Message moves so low, I fear,  
What sounds like tender Courtship in your ear,  
His jealous Barons will dislike, and cry,  
I am perverted to disloyalty;  
Urge my Commission false, then tax me for  
An easy Traitor, no Ambassador;  
As if my words would pull his Empire down,  
Shorten his Sceptre, and contract his Crown;  
Thus whispered by my fears, I must impart  
For Ceremony now, what is his heart,  
Though with content of Truth, I may report  
You have a numerous Faction in his Court.  
This Palace where, by sword, than law maintained  
His few, but mighty Ancestors have reigned,  
Is consecrated yours; which he doth give,  
Not in regard he hath short time to live;  
For so, since his Successor is unknown,  
You take what is his Subjects, not his own,  
And what is a surrender now, would be  
Received tomorrow as a Legacy:  
If more of his free love, I should relate,  
They'd style it homage in our jealous state.  
At the upper end, opposite to the state, was a stage of six foot high: and there was presented to sight a Front of Architecture with two Pilasters at each side, and in the middle of the Coronich a Compartement, with this inscription in an Oval.  Les Triumphes du Prince d' Amour. 
The Curtain flying up, on the sudden the Scene was discovered with a Village consisting of Alehouses and Tobacco shops, each fronted with a red Lettuce, on which black Indian Boys sat bestriding Rolls of Tobacco, and in the place of Signs, Globes hung up, stuck up full of broken Pipes. Before each door were seen old Logs, and Trunks of hollow Trees, on them sat the Persons of the first Antimasque drinking, and making to each other such ridiculous salutes, as did intimate a joy of meeting, and acquaintance. This continued a while, and then they prepared for their first entry.  

The first Antimasque.  
Two, whose habits presented them, for swaggering Soldiers, and of the cheaper quality, such as are said to roar, not fight, their Beards mishapen, with long whiskers of the Stiletto cut.  
Two Dutch Sea Officers, a Gunner and a Boatswain.  
An old overgrown debauched Cavalier, that seemed unwieldy with his weight, his Riots had so enlarged him.  
A Begging Soldier, with a Knapsack hanging at his back.  
A Sutler's wife, denoted by her dress of the Camp, her head being bound with a Saddle girth, instead of Phylliting.  
These after their Entry was performed, retire.  
On the sudden, the Scene wholly changing, appears a Camp of Tents, distinguished by their several Colours: And in the midst was discovered the Temple of Mars, the form being square, and of the Doric Order, with Trophies of Arms on the Front. Within the middle of the Temple stood the Statue of Mars, of Copper, upon a Pedestal.  
This having continued a while in prospect, the Priests of Mars came out of the Temple, clothed in Crimson robes, of the Antic shape, girt in the waist and being tucked up, fall in a fold; on their heads, Mitres of a Helmet form, with a Poniard advanced on the top, and they sing this by way of Preparation.  


(1)  
Come shut our Temple and away,  
Our bold seditious God shall stay;  
we'll serve no sacrifice to day,  
Our humour is to Feast, not Pray.   

(2)  
The Battle which our Knights have won,  
Did last until th' amazed Sun  
For fear, did mend his usual pace,  
And set betimes to hide his face.   

(3)  
And now the story of their fight  
Is universal, as his light,  
Which Fame upon her swifter wing  
Hath early brought for us to sing.    
This Song ended, with a slow pace they descend (playing on their Instruments) and being advanced near the State, sing this to signify some Battle lately fought.  


(1)  
Hark! hark! the trouble of the day draws near,  
And now the Drum doth teach the heart to beat,  
Whilst Trumpets cherish not, but wound the ear  
Of such, who are ordained for a defeat.   

Chorus.  
Hark! Hark! some groan, and curse uncertain Fate,  
Which us for blood and ruin, doth create.   

(2)  
Charge! charge! cries every bold ambitious knight,  
Whilst artificial darkness hid their way,  
The lightning of their Swords was all their light,  
For dust, & sulphurous clouds had choked the day.   

Chorus.  
Hark! hark! some groan, and curse uncertain Fate,  
Which us for blood and ruin, doth create.   

(3)  
Burn, burn, was straight the noise in every Tent,  
Whilst some misled by their disordered fear,  
Did help to kindle what they should prevent,  
And scaped the Van to perish in the Rear.   

Chorus.  
Hark! hark! some groan, and curse uncertain Fate,  
Which us for blood and ruin, doth create.   

(4)  
Fly, fly, cries then the tame dejected Foe;  
Each wondering at the terror which he feels,  
And in the hurry of their overthrow,  
Forsook their Arms, and trusted to their heels.   

Chorus.  
Hark! hark! some groan, and curse uncertain Fate,  
Which us for blood and ruin, doth create.   

(5)  
Stand! stand! was now the word our Knights did give,  
For weary of pursuit, they had no will  
To grace with death, who basely sought to live,  
As if unworthy of their pains to kill.   

Chorus.  
Hark! hark! some groan, and curse uncertain Fate,  
Which us for blood and ruin, doth create.    
The Priests of Mars retire, and straight the Masquers appear as coming out of several Tents, their habits being Martial and richly embroidered, inclining near the old Roman shape; their Helmets Triumphantly plumed, whiles the Bevir falling o'er the face, served for a disguise, and supplied to each the office of a Vizard. These by their appearance and demeanour were devised to intimate those heroic Knight's Templars, to which the Palace of the Prince D'Amour was anciently Dedicated. They descend with a Majestic pace, and dance their first entry, then retire towards the Scene: whilst with amazement they discover Cupid descending in a bright cloud, who at their interview sings this.  


(1)  
Whither so gladly, and so fast,  
As if you knew all danger passed  
Of Combat, and of War?  
As you believed my arms were bound,  
Or when I shoot, still every wound.  
I make, is but a scar.   

(2)  
Arm now your breasts with shields of steel,  
And plates of Brass, yet you shall feel  
My arrows are so keen,  
Like lightning that not hurts the skin,  
Yet melts the solid parts within,  
They'll wound, although unseen.   

(3)  
My Mother taught me long ago  
To aim my shafts, and draw my Bow  
When Mars she did subdue.  
And now you must resign to Love,  
Your warlike hearts, that she may prove  
Those antic Stories true.    
This being sung, Cupid having dispersed his darts amongst them, which charms them from designs of war to inclinations of love, they all retire.  
The Scene wholly changing, there appears a square Piazza, resembling that of Venice, and 'tis composed Palaces, and lesser Fabrics, with Courtesans looking out of windows, and Balconees, fantastically adorned, some in Italian, others in a Turkish dress, and this prospect, prepares the second Antimasque, who straight are discovered walking in the Piazza.   

The second Antimasque.  
The first  
A grave formal Spanish Lover, who addressing himself to some Courtesan, in a Balconee, salutes her often with congees tedious and low.  
The second  
A jealous Italian Lover, who fixing his eyes on another Mistress at her window, dinotes the vexation of his humour, by desperate sighs, beating on his breast, and sometimes a melancholy posture, standing with his Arms wreathed.  
The third.  
A giddy Fantastic French Lover, who being likewise addressed to some beauty, gazing at her window, his humour is discerned by strange ridiculous cringes, and frisks in his salutes, with which he seems to invite her acquaintance: having diverse notes of Levity in his habit, and wearing his Mistress Fan tied with a Ribbon in his ear.  
The Fourth  
A dull Dutch Lover, personating some Younker of Vtrecht, who gazing upwards too, doth often apply his Handkerchief to his eyes, as if the grief of his despair did make him weep.  
The Fifth  
A furious debauched English Lover, who in his habit striving to imitate his Neighbour (the monsieur) still outdoes his vanity, which his accoutrement doth severally express, and he hangs in the right ear his mistress's Muff, in the left her Shoe with a Chapeen. He is not fixed to one Balconee, but directs himself to all, offers to draw his Sword, and seems to threaten with his fist, as he would rather break their windows, then desire them opened, that he might gain a look from his Lady.  
These several humours being a while artificially expressed, they descend, and dance their second entry, and retire.  
The Scene wholly changing again: There was observed in a Grove of Cypress intermingled with Myrtle Trees, the Temple of Venus, being an eight square of the Corinthian order: within the Temple her Satue of Silver, standing in an Niche, with Cupid by her, to whom she seems to deliver an Arrow; the Pilasters, and Ornaments were heightened with Silver.  
From this Temple the Priests of Venus are discerned to come in loose white Robes, their heads adorned with Coronets of Flowers, and playing on their Instruments, they descend and sing this.  


(1)  
Unarm, unarm! no more your fights  
Must cause the virgin's tears,  
But such as in the silent nights,  
Spring rather from their fears,   

(2)  
Such difference as when Doves do bill,  
Must now be all your strife:  
For all the blood that you shall spill,  
Will usher in a life.   

(3)  
And when your Ladies falsely coy  
Shall timorous appear,  
Believe, they then would fain enjoy  
What they pretend to fear.   

(4)  
Breath then each others breath, and kiss  
Your souls to union:  
And whilst they shall enjoy this bliss,  
Your bodies too, are one.   

(5)  
Too morrow will the hasty Sun  
Be feared more of each Lover,  
For hindering to repeat what's done,  
Than what it may discover.    
The Priests of Venus retire, and the Masquers appear in the Scene, their vests altered to a more soft and Courtly change; with several adornments, that might present them to every understanding for a Troop of noble Lovers. Their second entry being danced, they retire into the Temple.  
The Scene wholly changing, straight was perceived in a Grove of Laurel Trees, the Temple of Apollo, being round, and transparent, of the order of Composita, the Columns and Ornamants, being heightened with gold, his statue of gold standing in the middle of the Temple, upon a round Pedestal: behind and between the Columns did appear a prospect of Landskap.  
The Priests of Apollo approach from several parts of the Temple, clothed in Carnation Robes, with wreathes of Laurel on their heads, they sing this when they descend.  


(1)  
Make room for our God too, make room,  
For now surprised, and ravished with delight,  
Apollo is from Delphos come,  
T'inspire, and breath himself in every Knight.   

(2)  
His Godhead is inclined to prove  
How justly proud, and happy you will be,  
When with the powers of War and Love,  
He shall unite his wiser Deity.   

(3)  
Then still, as if not made of Earth,  
Express your thankfuluesse in active pleasure.  
Whilst you design your hearts to Mirth,  
Your ears to numbers, & your feet to measure.    
This ended, the Priests of Apollo retire to make way for a new discovery of certain persons in the Scene, which seem half hidden behind the Trees: Then invite them to descend by singing this.  


(1)  
Behold, how this conjunction thrives!  
His radiant beams Apollo strives  
So much to strengthen and increase,  
As growth and verdure ne'er should cease.   

(2)  
Come you industrious slaves of plenty, bring  
All that is hoped for in an Eastern Spring:  
Or all that Autumn yields, when she doth pay  
Those promised hopes where 'tis perpetual day.   

(3)  
Come strew this ground (delay us not with sloth)  
Strew till we walk on sweet Cecillian Flowers,  
To prove how Seeds have hastened in their growth,  
Drop Indian fruits, as thick as April showers.    
Now descending from the Scene, appears twelve men, wildly habited, Waistcoats of flesh colour made them show naked to the middle, their heads covered with green leaves, their wastes girt with the like, and a green Basis fringed, reached to their knees, which did declare them Labourers on a Fruitful Soil; and what they carried did demonstrate a Fruitful Season.  
For moving down in order towards the State, each supported in his Arms, a small square frame, the wood hidden with green Boughs, and on that bore a Charger full of precious fruits, and covered with blossomed twigs and flowers: Which being fixed near to the State, were so joined together, that there was straight discovered a Table richly furnished with a Banquet, that looked as it were hidden in a Grove: And whilst the Princes accepted of this entertainment, the Priests belonging to the three several Deities sung this.  
The song of Valediction, after the Banquet.  Priests of Mars. 
The furious Steed, the Phyph and Drum  
Invite you still to Triumphs of the War,  
Till you as glorious shall become  
On Earth as Mars, in Heaven as bright a Star.  Priests of Venus. 
The Balms rich sweat, the Myrrhs sweet tears  
Perfume your breath when you would Passion move:  
And may her heart, that you endears,  
the centre be, her Eye the sphere of Love!  Priests of Apollo. 
And may your Language be of force  
To body winds, and animate the Trees,  
So full of wonder your discourse,  
Till all your guesses shall be Prophecies.  Chorus of all. 
May our three Gods so long conjoin,  
To raise your soul, and rarefie your sense,  
Till you are rendered so Divine,  
'Twill be no Sin t' implore your Influence.  
Thus, as all Pleasures and Triumphs are full of haste, and aptest to decay, this had an end; yet may I've mentioned a while, if the envy of such as were absent do not rebuke the courteous memory of those who vouchsafed to enjoy it.   

The Masquers Names, According as they were ranked by their Antiquity, in that Noble Society.  

Tho: Maunsell.  
Will: Morgan.  
Will: Wheeler.  
Mich: Hutchenson.  
Laur: Hyde.  
Tho: Bourke.  
Edw: Smyth.  
Edw: Turnor.  
Tho: Way.  
Tho: Trenchard.  
Geo: Probert.   

Those in the first Antimasque.  
Philip Morgan.  
john Freman.  
john Bramston.  
Ed: Smyth.  
Clement spilman.  
john Norden.  
Will: lisle.   

Those in the second Antimasque.  
john Stepkin.  
Charles Adderly.  
john Ratcliff.  
Rich: May.  
Giles Hungerford.   
The Music of the Songs and Symphonies were excellently composed by Mr. Henry, and Mr. William Laws, his Majesty's Servants.  
FINIS.