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As it with mightie levers had bene tore:
And forth issewd, as on the ready flore
Of some Theatre, a grave personage,
That in his hand a branch of laurell bore,
With comely haveour and count'nance sage,
Yclad in costly garments, fit for tragicke Stage.

Proceeding to the midst, he still did stand,

As if in mind he somewhat had to say,
And to the vulgar beckning with his hand,
In signe of silence, as to heare a play,
By lively actions he gan bewray
Some argument of matter passioned;
Which doen, he backe retyred soft away,
And passing by, his name discovered,
Ease, on his robe in golden letters cyphered.

The noble Mayd, still standing all this vewd,
And merveild at his strange intendiment ;
With that a joyous fellowship issewd
Of Minstrals, making goodly meriment,
With wanton Bardes, and Rymers impudent,
All which together sung full chearefully
A lay of loves delight, with sweet concent:
After whom marcht a jolly company,
In manner of a maske, enranged orderly.

The whiles a most delitious harmony,

In full straunge notes was sweetly heard to sound,
That the rare sweetnesse of the melody

The feeble senses wholly did confound,

And the fraile soule in deepe delight nigh dround :
And when it ceast, shrill trompets loud did bray,
That their report did farre away rebound,
And when they ceast, it gan againe to play,
The whiles the maskers marched forth in trim aray.

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The first was Fancy, like a lovely boy,

Of rare aspect, and beautie without peare;
Matchable either to that ympe of Troy,

Whom Jove did love, and chose his cup to beare,
Or that same daintie lad, which was so deare
To great Alcides, that when as he dyde,
He wailed womanlike with many a teare,
And every wood, and every valley wyde

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He fild with Hylas name; the Nymphes eke Hylas cryde.

His garment neither was of silke nor say,

But painted plumes, in goodly order dight,
Like as the sunburnt Indians do aray

Their tawney bodies, in their proudest plight :
As those same plumes, so seemd he vaine and light,
That by his gate might easily appeare;
For still he far'd as dauncing in delight,
And in his hand a windy fan did beare,
That in the idle aire he mov'd still here and there.

And him beside marcht amorous Desyre,

Who seemd of riper yeares, then th'other Swaine,
Yet was that other swayne this elders syre,
And gave him being, commune to them twaine :
His garment was disguised very vaine,

And his embrodered Bonet sat awry;

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Twixt both his hands few sparkes he close did straine, Which still he blew, and kindled busily,

That soone they life conceiv'd, and forth in flames did fly.

Next after him went Doubt, who was yclad
In a discolour'd cote, of straunge disguyse,
That at his backe a brode Capuccio had,
And sleeves dependant Albanese-wyse :

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He lookt askew with his mistrustfull eyes,
And nicely trode, as thornes lay in his way,
Or that the flore to shrinke he did avyse,

And on a broken reed he still did stay

His feeble steps, which shrunke, when hard theron he lay.

With him went Daunger, cloth'd in ragged weed,

Made of Beares skin, that him more dreadfull made, Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need Straunge horrour, to deforme his griesly shade; A net in th'one hand, and a rustie blade In th'other was, this Mischiefe, that Mishap; With th'one his foes he threatned to invade, With th'other he his friends ment to enwrap: For whom he could not kill, he practizd to entrap.

Next him was Feare, all arm'd from top to toe,
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby,
But feard each shadow moving to and fro,
And his owne armes when glittering he did spy,
Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly,
As ashes pale of hew, and wingyheeld;
And evermore on daunger fixt his eye,

Gainst whom he alwaies bent a brasen shield,
Which his right hand unarmed fearefully did wield.

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With him went Hope in rancke, a handsome Mayd, xiii Of chearefull looke and lovely to behold;

In silken samite she was light arayd,

And her faire lockes were woven up in gold;
She alway smyld, and in her hand did hold
An holy water Sprinckle, dipt in deowe,
With which she sprinckled favours manifold,
On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe,
Great liking unto many, but true love to feowe.

And after them Dissemblance, and Suspect
Marcht in one rancke, yet an unequall paire :
For she was gentle, and of milde aspect,
Courteous to all, and seeming debonaire,
Goodly adorned, and exceeding faire :

Yet was that all but painted, and purloynd,

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And her bright browes were deckt with borrowed haire : Her deedes were forged, and her words false coynd, And alwaies in her hand two clewes of silke she twynd.

But he was foule, ill favoured, and grim,
Under his eyebrowes looking still askaunce;
And ever as Dissemblance laught on him,
He lowrd on her with daungerous eyeglaunce;
Shewing his nature in his countenance;
His rolling eyes did never rest in place,

But walkt each where, for feare of hid mischaunce,
Holding a lattice still before his face,

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Through which he still did peepe, as forward he did pace.

Next him went Griefe, and Fury matcht yfere ;
Griefe all in sable sorrowfully clad,

Downe hanging his dull head, with heavy chere,
Yet inly being more, then seeming sad:

A paire of Pincers in his hand he had,
With which he pinched people to the hart,
That from thenceforth a wretched life they lad,
In wilfull languor and consuming smart,

Dying each day with inward wounds of dolours dart.

But Fury was full ill appareiled

In rags, that naked nigh she did appeare,
With ghastly lookes and dreadfull drerihed;
For from her backe her garments she did teare.

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And from her head oft rent her snarled heare: In her right hand a firebrand she did tosse About her head, still roming here and there; As a dismayed Deare in chace embost, Forgetfull of his safety, hath his right way lost.

After them went Displeasure and Pleasance,
He looking lompish and full sullein sad,
And hanging downe his heavy countenance ;
She chearefull fresh and full of joyance glad,
As if no sorrow she ne felt ne drad;
That evill matched paire they seemd to bee:
An angry Waspe th'one in a viall had
Th'other in hers an hony-lady Bee;

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Thus marched these sixe couples forth in faire degree.

After all these there marcht a most faire Dame,
Led of two grysie villeins, th'one Despight,
The other cleped Cruelty by name :

She dolefull Lady, like a dreary Spright,
Cald by strong charmes out of eternall night,
Had deathes owne image figurd in her face,
Full of sad signes, fearefull to living sight;
Yet in that horror shewd a seemely grace,
And with her feeble feet did move a comely pace.

Her brest all naked, as net ivory,

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Without adorne of gold or silver bright, Wherewith the Craftesman wonts it beautify, Of her dew honour was despoyled quight, And a wide wound therein (O ruefull sight) Entrenched deepe with knife accursed keene, Yet freshly bleeding forth her fainting spright, (The worke of cruell hand) was to be seene, That dyde in sanguine red her skin all snowy cleene.

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