MUSIC: OR A PARLEY OF Instruments.  
The First Part.  
Licenced,  
Roger L'estrange. Octob. 30. 1676.  
London, Printed in the Year 16●6.   


The First Entertainment.  
A full Consort of Instrumental Music: After that a Dialogue of three Voices, Alexis, Strephon, Corydon, with assistant Voices.  Strephon. 
WHat Harmony alarms my Ears?  Alexis. 
It is the Music of the Spheres.  Strephon. 
Oh let me, let me die,  
And my transported Spirits fly  
To yonder echoing Sky,  
Where Love with Music keeps eternal Harmony.  Alexis. 
Nay Strephon, stay,  
With mortal Ears  
Beneath the Spheres  
You may partake, and hear them Play.  Corydon. 
Do then the Gods such joys to Mortals lend?  Alexis. 
The God of Music, Goddess of the Arts,  
Such joy imparts,  
And in a Chorus often do descend.  Chorus. 
And in a Chorus,  
And in a Chorus often do descend.  
Song by Pallas.  
From Mansions of Joy, and from Regions of Bliss,  
Where Eternity flows with such measures as this,  
Invoked by your Music the AEtherial Spheres,  
Here Pallas descends in a Chariot of Ayres.  
In such a sweet Consort our Empire does move,  
While we join in a Chorus of Music and Love.  Strephon. 
May not Mortals than aspire!  Alexis. 
By the same Scale  
They Heaven assail,  
And join in the Celestial Quire.  Pallas. 

On Music's soft Scale you to Heaven do aspire,  
And call from his Throne great Jove to admire;  
Whilst all the bright Goddesses join in a Ring,  
To make up a Consort, and help you to Sing:  
In such a sweet Consort our Empire does move,  
While we join in a Chorus of Music and Love.   Strephon. 
Do these Celestial Joys on Music tend?  Alexis. 
Bright Pallas to confirm it does descend.  Corydon. 
 raised to Immortality!  Alexis. 
The Airy Cherubin, the Soul is free:  
On Love and Music's wings,  Chorus. 
Aloft, aloft she flying sings  
The Glories of Eternity.  Pallas. 

By Love and by Music our Kingdom does stand;  
By Love and by Music we rule and command;  
While in Love we descend, you by Music aspire,  
Till our Souls do unite in a general Quire.  
In such a sweet Consort our Empire does move,  
While we join in a Chorus of Music and Love.   Pallas ascends. Strephon. 
Oh stay, bright Goddess, stay;  
We'll ever Sing, and ever Play,  
If you vouchsafe to agree  
To make one general Harmony.  

A Consort of Instruments.  Strephon. 
Alexis, in this Universal Choir,  
Where mighty Phoebus does with Orpheus meet,  
With all his Votaries at his feet,  
How many various sorts there be  
Of Instruments in this joint Harmony,  
You in amazement leave me to admire.  Alexis. 
Reckon the Creatures in their kind,  
None can their endless number find.  Strephon. 
And yet these too  
May be reduced to few.  Alexis. 
Or Men, or Trees, or Birds, or Beasts; nay all  
That motion have, or live,  
Are Vegitives, or Sensitive,  
Or highest Rational,  
Of Music thus three sorts we do allow.  Corydon. 
Such as by Breath or Wind inspired do speak,  
Do into joyful numbers break.  Alexis. 
But quickened by the active Bow,  
In sweeter measures flow.  Strephon. 
Or by the Finger's smother touch, or Quill,  
Their gentler Notes distil.  Chorus. 
And all uniting will partake,  
And one profound Pairroyal make.  Strephon. 
This Trinity of Consorts I admire.  Corydon. 
And I, dear Strephon, love.  Strephon. 
But are they so united in their Choir,  
That for the Test  
Who does the best,  
We may not yet more fully hear them move?  Alexis. 
The next Debatement shall apart their several Virtues prove.  Strephon. 
The Harp, the Harpsicons, Guittar and Lute,  
Is my pretence.  Corydon. 
Mine the Wind-musicks' Excellence.  Alexis. 
And for the charming Bow I'll hold dispute.  
Strephon, with you we'll first engage.  Corydon. 
And with the Conqueror we'll the Combat wage.  Chorus. 
We'll draw on each side,  
And our Forces divide,  
To merit, to merit the praise;  
And he that does best,  
Shall be owned by the rest,  
With Laurel, with Laurel and Bays.    

The Second Entertainment.  
A Consort of Lutes, Theorboes, guitars, Harpsicons, Violins, Viols, and all other Instruments struck with the Finger or Bow. A Dialogue of two, Alexis, Strephon, with assistant Voices. Alexis pleading for the Excellency of the Viols, Violins, etc. Strephon for the Theorboes, Lutes, and all other Instruments of that kind▪  Alexis. 
STrephon, while we with you incorporate,  
We labour in a mortal state;  
Like Soul and Body we unite,  
Your grosser parts retard our glorious flight:  
But from your grosser Numbers free,  
We, like the Soul, put on a kind of Immortality.  Strephon. 
In us alone  
The whole Composure of the Universe is shown.  
In Counterpoint that comprehends each part  
Of our mysterious Art  
Which in us dwell,  
We do excel,  
Whilst every part an Element  
Does represent  Alexis. 
To weighty Earth what part can you compare?  
We are all Air.  Strephon. 
The Bass as the foundation of the frame:  
The Tenor does the Watery Orb proclaim:  
The Mean, to Air; and to the Triple, Fire.  Alexis. 
But we the Composition do inspire  
With active Breath, and true Promethean flame,  
Without whose aid  
Your measures fade,  
Wanting a Spirit to inform the Frame.  Strephon. 
The fire which he stole,  
Was but the Harmony o'th' Soul;  
Which we with well-proportioned parts disposed  
For a Reception have i'th' parts infused, or else enclosed.  
Thus with intrinsic fire  
The Triple, we ourselves inspire;  
We animate the Heart, inform the Ear,  
And every Finger's a Prometheus here.  Alexis. 
This Virtue best is shown,  
When you display your parts alone.  Strephon. 
You powerful Minstrels, you whose charms do flow  
From Fingers skilful touch, in spite of Bow,  
Now show your power Divine,  
And in one Consort all your Virtue join.  

A Consort of Theorboes, Lutes, Harps, Harpsicons, guitars, Citterns, etc.  
SONG.  

If Music with all its Allurements can move,  
We in a full Consort its Virtues can prove;  
Whilst others in Singles but faintly do squeak,  
We through a Concordance of Compounds do break.   

Each in a full Chorus supplies every part,  
And like to Love's Monarch does pierce through the heart.  
Through Tenor and Bass to Triple we rise,  
And make the Pairroyal but one in the Skies.   

Let others in simple Debates disagree,  
While we make a Synod of joint Harmony;  
And whilst our Assembly the Audience does awe,  
we'll give Rules to the World, and to Music give Law.   Strephon. 
Oh Divine!  
Hark! hark! how sweet  
The lofty Numbers meet,  
As if Heaven did design  
No other use of hand or sense,  
In all its greatest, greatest Excellence,  Chorus. 
In all its greatest, greatest Excellence.  Alexis. 
Move on all you that own  
Your Being's to the quickening Bow;  
Your Force together call,  
And in one Consort all,  
The emulating Discord overthrow.   

A Consort of Viols, Violins, and all sorts of Bow'd-Instruments.  
SONG.  

Now merrily, merrily Boys,  
Add spirit to every String,  
A single Voice  
Yields a better noise  
Then a clamorous gossiping.  
Their Consort is dull to the Crowd,  
While our single Notes agree,  
A Billingsgate noise is far more loud,  
But not half so good Harmony.   

Let them boast of their various Parts,  
That jumble like Cramboes' in Rhyme,  
And cry up their Arts,  
If we win their hearts,  
we'll Rival them all in time.  
The Women for us give their votes,  
Then merrily let us play,  
With Triple and Bass let's join our Notes,  
We're Consort as well as they.   Alexis. 
Are you convinced by this transporting Air?  Strephon. 
'Tis fine; and yet, Alexis, not so rare,  
Nor dare you yet with us compare.  Alexis. 
Where lies your chiefest Excellence?  Strephon. 
With every Part in pleasing every Sense.  Alexis. 
But we those Senses do inspire  
With sprightly Air, and active Fire.  Strephon. 
We, we command Apollo's Lyre.  Alexis. 
We Spirit yield to Music's deepest sounds.  Strephon. 
We taught you first the grounds.  Alexis. 
But we a lofty structure did from that foundation rise,  
And Airy Pyramids whose tops aspiring pierce the Skies.  Strephon. 
Since we cannot agree while our Notes we compare,  
Let's join in a Chorus,  Alexis. 
Let's join in a Chorus  Strephon. 
Of melodious, of melodious Air.  Chorus. 
Of melodious, of melodious Air.    

The Third Entertainment.  
A Symphony of Theorboes, Lutes, Harps, Harpsicons, guitars, Pipes, Flutes, flageolets, Cornets, Sackbuts, Oboes, Rechords, Organs, and all sort of Wind-Instruments. A Dialogue of two, Strephon, Corydon; Strephon maintaining the Excellency of the Lutes, Harpsicons, etc. Corydon of the Pipes, flageolets, and Wind. Instruments; with assistant Voices, and Violins.  Corydon. 
IN what blessed Region do these Consorts move?  Strephon. 
They are begot below, but rule above.  Corydon. 
From whence do they arise?  Strephon. 
From Air and Earth  
They take their Birth,  
And keep their Centre in the Skies.  Corydon. 
How do they rule, how are they nourished there?  Strephon. 
In the Harmomous Sphere:  
Music Chameleon-like does far,  
By Fancy it's begot, and lives by Air.  Corydon. 
But whence this mixed variety of Sounds?  
And yet the different Notes in Numbers soft,  
Unite in one and fly aloft, aloft,  
As if they owned no Measure, knew no Bounds.  Strephon. 
The Heathens never worshipped more  
Famed Gods in former time,  
Than in this Consort we adore  
Divinities sublime;  
To various Notes each Instrument is free.  Corydon. 
And every Note invokes a Deity.  Here in a Symphony of soft Music Pallas descends as from above. Corydon. 
In yonder Sky what Star appears?  Strephon. 
Pallas descending from the Spheres,  
And with a Train of Starry Nymphs to crown  
Our mutual Harmony comes singing down.  
Song by Pallas.  

Music, the bounteous gift of Heaven,  
Was to the world a Present given,  
Whilst Apollo and I  
Do command in the Sky,  
To keep the sweet Composure even.   Chorus. 
Nature's whole frame did from Sympathy flow,  
From hence she took motion, and hence she took Law.  

Hence Orpheus with Harmonious Lyre,  
Brought Trees to dance, Beasts to admire;  
While witty Amphion,  
Whom Thebes did rely on,  
By Music raised their City higher:   Chorus. 
The Harmonious Sceptre o'er Nations did sway,  
Made Savages tame, and the Satyrs obey.  

It moves to Courage, yields Delight,  
And still to Virtue does invite;  
Then let us all follow  
Our Master Apollo,  
Who made the World grow civil by't:  
It inspireth the mind, and delighteth the Ears,  
And flies to its Centre above in the Spheres.   [Pallas ascends; soft Music.] Corydon. 
Strephon, in this mixed Symphony I find  
Something more sweet, more charming in our wind,  
Then all your vaunted Parts of warbling Air.  Strephon. 
And yet with Corydon we dare compare.  Corydon. 
This task we must perform alone;  
Let us divide,  
And draw our Forces on each side,  
Your Consort does disturb our Unisons.  Strephon. 
We are a Legion in one,  
And mighty Phoebus is our General.  Corydon. 
Great Pan did our Authority install:  
The Pipes and Tabrets into Squadrons drew;  
On Martial Troops we did attend,  
And Courage oft did lend,  
Before whose Sound whole Armies, Armies flew.  Strephon. 
You boast the Terror of your Sound,  
Yet our inclusive Parts are more profound;  
In a pacific strain  
We on victorious Princes wait  
In their Triumphal, their Triumphal State.  Corydon. 
While we the Victory do gain,  
And do the Combats heat maintain.  Strephon. 
We late a mighty Monarch did subdue.  Corydon. 
And we the Conqueror Conquest will pursue.  

Consort of Lutes, Theorboes, Harpsicals, etc.  
SONG.  

Now try for the Conquest the chiefest of Arts,  
And let every Finger a Harmony prove:  
In a triple of Parts we cherish sad hearts,  
And in a Pairroyal of Descants we move.   Chorus. 
With Triple we raise  
Mean, Tenor, and Base,  
And keep a due distance of measure and space.  

In a Broadside of Consorts that reaches the Spheres,  
Which every Minstrel dischargeth alone,  
We pierce through the Fancy, and tickle the Ears,  
And three to their one but we board them anon.  
With Triple we raise, etc.   

Then stand to your Tackling, and handle your Cords,  
Let the Pipes and Recorders grow hoarse in the throat;  
They are but our Tenants, while we rule like Lords,  
And make all the Rabble agree in a Note.  
With Triple we raise  
Mean, Tenor, and Base,  
And keep a due distance of measure and space.   Strephon. 
These are our Creatures all that do obey  
Th' immediate Finger's motion, or the Quill.  Corydon. 
And yet in this vast Sea  
Of Music's boundless Law,  
Where Consorts like whole Rivers flow,  
In clearer Streams our single Notes distil.  Strephon. 
Consort, the Soul of Music and of play,  
The Depth and Ground of our mysterious Arts,  
Flows through our veins whilst each of us does sway,  
In a Triumvirate of breathing Parts.  Corydon. 
Your various Parts, like three great Tides that meet  
Ith' Ocean, roar, and serve to make a noise;  
While we in gentle Breases greet,  
And flow in one sweet Current of soft Joys.  
Your Single parts by us embraced,  Strephon. 
Like Rivulets in the vast Ocean,  
Lose both their relish and their taste;  
We are a Harmony in one.  Corydon. 
As from the Spring and Fountainhead we should  
Fresh Currents still dispense,  
And if we lose our Excellence,  
'Tis cause we mingle with the Flood:  
Or if you labour to outdo,  
Because a Consort full you share;  
we'll join our Pipes, and then we are  
A Harmony as well as you.   

A Symphony of Wind-Instruments.  

Song to the same.  
Let Strephon boast loud,  
With Theorboe and Crowd,  
Whilst we do prevail  
In a merry brisk Gale,  
And conquer by force of our Sallies;  
Till it spread like the Air,  
Of which it does share,  
And fills all the Groves and the Valleys.   

Then from the low Veil  
With a following gale  
we'll hollow and rise  
Through the echoing Skies,  
And still we mount higher and higher;  
While those by the way  
Do faintly decay,  
And weaker, and weaker expire.   

The Theorboes and Lutes  
To the Pipes are but Mutes;  
They are Creatures, and live  
By the Breath which we give,  
And we by that Breath were inspired;  
Whilst they are outworn  
As soon as they're born,  
Like Orphans untimely retired.   Corydon. 
In this abstracted Symphony  
Of well-digested Air,  
There is an inward Harmony,  
Which your mixed Discord did impair.  Strephon. 
Yet from our various Notes proceeds  
A more Harmonious sound.  Corydon. 
As Showers which the Tempest breeds,  
Lie scattered on the ground,  
Or into swelling Vapours rise,  
While like bright Meteors we approach the Skies.  Strephon. 
Pallas her Lute, and Orpheus his Lyre,  
Borrowed from us to make a Quire.  Corydon. 
And both do on our wings aspire:  
In such a Chariot mighty Jove  
His universal Triumph first designed,  
When on the Cherubins he moved,  
And flew upon the wings, the wings o'th' Wind.  Strephon. 
You boast the Glory of your flight,  
And yet our Parts are more profound.  Corydon. 
But to your scattered Parts we add a Spirit.  Strephon. 
Then let us mix and make one great Compound.  Chorus. 

Like Birds we'll engender and bill in the Air,  
The Gods never envied so happy a pair.   

Then let us unite, and merrily play,  
we'll sport all the Night, and we'll sing all the Day;  
In Consorts of Love  
Each Couple shall move,  
Then the newmarryed Bride more cheerful and gay.  
Like Birds we'll engender, etc.   

In a various Chorus of Musical Lays,  
Our Fancies shall meet, and our Spirits embrace;  
While the Goddess of Love  
Our mirth shall approve,  
And the Nymphs in a Row our Nuptials shall grace.  
Like Birds we'll engender and bill in the Air,  
The Gods never envied so happy a pair.     
FINIS.