Tobacco as good as any;

But whether it did provoke

His conscience he sold smoke;
Or some other toy he took,
Towards his calling to look:
He fled by moonshine thence;
And broke for sixteen pence.

HEY, OWL SECOND!

This too, the more is the pity,
Is of the breed of the same city;

A true owl of London,

That gives out he is undone,
Being a cheesemonger,

By trusting two of the younger
Captains, for the hunger

Of their half-starved number,

Whom since they have shipt away,

And left him God to pay,

With those ears for a badge

Of their dealing with his Madge.

A

HEY, OWL THIRD!

pure native bird

This, and though his hue

Be not Coventry blue,

Yet is he undone

By the thread he has spun ;

For since the wise town

Has let the sports down

Of may-games and morris,

For which he right sorry is;

Where their maids and their makes,

At dancings and wakes,

Had their napkins and posies,

And the wipers for their noses,

And their smocks all-be-wrought
With his thread which they bought,
It now lies on his hands,

And having neither wit nor lands,
Is ready to hang or choke him
In a skein of that that broke him.

HEY, OWL FOURTH!

Was once a bankrupt of worth;
And having run a shifting race,
At last by money, and grace,
Got him a serjeant's place,
And to be one of chace.

A full fortnight was not spent
But out comes the parliament,
Takes away the use of his mace,

And left him in a worse than his first case.

HEY, OWL FIFTH !

But here was a defeat,

Never any so great,

Of a Don, a Spanish reader,

Who had thought to have been the leader,

Had the match gone on,

Of our ladies one by one,

And triumphed our whole nation

In his rodomant fashion:

But now since the breach,

He has not a scholar to teach.

HEY, OWL SIXTH !

The bird bringer-up is a knight,

But a passionate wight

Who, since the act against swearing,

(The tale's worth your hearing)

In this short time's growth

Hath at twelve-pence an oath,—
For that, I take it, is the rate,-
Sworn himself out of his estate.

THE THIRD OWL VARIED.

A crop-eared scrivener, this,
Who when he heard but the whis-
per of monies to come down,
Fright got him out of town
With all the bills and bands

Of other men's in his hands,

And cried, who will, drive the trade,
Since such a law they had made:
It was not he that broke,
Two i' the hundred spoke.
Nor cared he for the curse,
He could not hear much worse,
He had his ears in his purse.

THE FORTUNATE ISLES,

AND THEIR UNION,

Celebrated in a Masque designed for the Court, on the
Twelfth Night, 1626.

HIC CHOREA, CANTUSQUE VIGENT.

His Majesty being set,

Enter, running, JOHPHIEL, an airy spirit, and (according to the Magi) the intelligence of Jupiter's sphere: attired in light silks of several colours, with wings of the same, a bright yellow hair, a chaplet of flowers, blue silk stockings, and pumps, and gloves, with a silver fan in his hand.

Johp. Like a lightning from the sky,

Or an arrow shot by Love,

Or a bird of his let fly,

Be't a sparrow, or a dove,

With that wingéd haste, come I,

Looséd from the sphere of Jove,
To wish good night
To your delight.

Enter MEREFOOL, a melancholic student, in bare and worn clothes shrouded under an obscure cloak, and the eaves of an old hat.

Mere. [fetching a deep sigh]. O ho!

Johp. In Saturn's name, the father of my lord,

What overchargéd piece of melancholy

Is this, breaks in between my wishes thus,

With bombing sighs?

Mere. No! no intelligence!

Not yet? and all my vows now nine days old!
Blindness of fate! puppies had seen by this time;
But I see nothing that I should, or would see !
What mean the brethren of the Rosy-cross,

So to desert their votary?

Johp. O'tis one

Hath vowed himself unto that airy order,

And now is gaping for the fly they promised him.
I'll mix a little with him for my sport.

[Steps aside. Mere. Have I both in my lodging and my diet, My clothes, and every other solemn charge, Observed them, made the naked boards my bed, A faggot for my pillow, hungred sore! Johp. And thirsted after them!

Mere. To look gaunt and lean!

Johp. Which will not be.

Mere. Who's that?—Yes, and outwatched,

Yea, and outwalkéd any ghost alive

In solitary circle, worn my boots,

Knees, arms, and elbows out!

Johp. Ran on the score!

Mere. That have I—who suggests that ?—and for more

Than I will speak of, to abate this flesh,

And have not gained the sight—

Johp. Nay, scarce the sense.

Mere. Voice, thou art right—of anything but a cold

Wind in my stomach.

Johp. And a kind of whimsie

Mere. Here in my head, that puts me to the staggers

Whether there be that brotherhood or no.

Johp. Believe, frail man, they be; and thou shalt see.
Mere. What shall I see?

Johp. Me.

Mere. Thee! where?

Johp. [comes forward]. Here, if you

Be master Merefool.