Neptune's Triumph for the Return of Albion · chunk 3 of 4
Jonson, Ben · published 1624 · first performed or written 1624 [Jan 6 (projected)] (Annals) masque · before the Court T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and typicality 0.71 · 516 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
The fruit looks so. Good child, go pour hem out, show their concoction. They must be rotten boiled, the broth's the best on't, And that's the Dance. The stage here is the Charger. And Brother Poet, though the serious part Be yours, yet, envy not the Child his art. Not I. Nam lusis ipse Triumphus amat. The antimasque is danced by the persons described, coming out of the pot. Well, now, expect the Scene itself; it opens! Look forth, the (h) Shepherd of the seas, And (i) of the Ports, that keep'st the keys, And to your Neptune tell, His ALBION, Prince of all his Isles, For whom the sea, and land so smiles, Is home returned well. And be it thought no common Cause, That, to it, so much wonder draws, And all the heaven's consent, With HARMONY, to tune their notes, In answer to the public votes That, for it, up were sent. It was no envious Stepdame's rage, Or tyrant's malice of the age, That did employ him forth. But such a Wisdom, that would prove, By sending him, their hearts, and love That else might fear his worth. I! now the Pomp of Neptune's triumph shines! And all the glories of his great designs Are read, reflected, in his son's return! How all the eyes, the looks, the hearts here, burn at his arrival! These are the true fires, Are made of joys! Of longings! Of desires! Of hopes! Of fears! Not intermitted blocks. But pure affections, and from odorous stocks! 'tis incense all, that flames! And these materials scarce have names! My King looks higher, as he scorned the wars Of winds, and with his trident touched the stars. There is no wrinkle, in his brow, or frown, But, as his cares he would in nectar drown, And all the (l) silver-footed Nymphs were dressed, To wait upon him, to the Ocean's feast. Or, here in rows upon the banks were set, And had their several hairs made into net To catch the youths in, as they come on shore. How! Galatea sighing! O, no more. Banish your fears. And Doris dry your tears. Albion is come: And (m) Haliclyon, too, That kept his side, as he was charged to do, With wonder. And the Syrens have him not. Though they no practice, nor no arts forgot That might have won him, or by charm, or song. Or laying forth their tresses all along Upon the glassy waves; Then diving: Then, Up with their heads, as they were mad of men. And there, the highest-going billows crown, Until some lusty Sea-god pulled them down, See! He is here! Great Master of the main, Receive thy dear, and precious pawn again. SAKON, PORTUNUS, PROTEUS bring him thus, Safe, as thy subjects' wishes gave him us: And of thy glorious Triumph let it be No loss a part, that thou their love's dost see, Then, that his sacred head's returned to thet. This sung, the Island goes back, whilst the upper Chorus takes it from them, and the Masquers prepare for their figure.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
The fruit lookes so. Good child, go poure hē out, shew their concoctiō. They must be rottē boyld, the brotn's the best on't, And that's the Dance. The stage here is the Charger. And Brother Poet, though the serious part Be yours, yet, envie not the C his art. Not I. Nam lusis ipse Triumphus amat. The Antimaske is daunc'd by the persons describ'd, comming out of the pot. Well, now, expect the Scene it selfe; it opens! Looke forth, the (h) Shephard of the seas, And (i) of the Ports, that keep'st the keyes, And to your Neptune tell, His ALBION, Prince of all his Isles, For whome the sea, and land so smiles, Is home returned well. And be it thought no common Cause, That, to it, so much wonder drawes, And all the Hea'uens consent, With HARMONY, to tune their notes, In answer to the publique votes That, for it, vp were sent. It was no envious Stepdames rage, Or Tyrans malice of the age, That did employ him forth. But such a Wisdome, that would proue, By sending him, their hearts, and loue That else might feare his worth. I! now the Pompe of Neptunes triumph shines! And all the glories of his great designes Are read, reflected, in his sonnes returne! How all the eyes, the lookes, the hearts here, burne at his arriuall! These are the true fires, Are made of ioyes! Of longings! Of desires! Of hopes! Of feares! Not intermitted blocks. But pure affections, and from odorous stocks! Tis incense all, that flames! And these materials scarce haue names! My King lookes higher, as he scornd the warres Of winds, and with his trident touchd the starrs. There is no wrinkle, in his brow, or frowne, But, as his cares he would in nectar drowne, And all the (l) siluer-footed Nymphs were drest, To wayte vpon him, to the Oceans feast. Or, here in rowes vpon the bankes were set, And had their seuerall hayres made into net To catch the youths in, as they come on shore. How! Galatea sighing! O, no more. Banish your feares. And Doris dry your teares. Albion is come: And (m) Haliclyon, too, That kept his side, as he was charg'd to do, With wonder. —And the Syrens haue him not. Though they no practise, nor no arts forgot That might haue wonne him, or by charme, or song. Or laying forth their tresses all along Vpon the glassie waues; Then diuing: Then, Vp with their heads, as they were mad of men. And there, the highest-going billowes crowne, Vntill some lusty Sea-god pull'd them downe, See! He is here! Great Master of the mayne, Receiue thy deare, and precious pawne againe. SAKON, PORTVNVS, PROTEVS bring him thus, Safe, as thy Subiects wishes gaue him vs: And of thy glorious Triumph let it be No losse a part, that thou their loues doest see, Then, that his sacred hea'ds return'd to thet. This sung, the Island goes backe, whilst the vpper Chorus takes it from them, and the Masquers prepare for their figure.