THE TRIUMPHS OF TRUTH,

AND

THE ENTERTAINMENT AT THE OPENING
OF THE NEW RIVER.

The Triumphs of Truth. A Solemnity unparalleld for Cost, Art, and Magnificence, at the Confirmation and Establishment of that Worthy and true Nobly-minded Gentleman, Sir Thomas Middleton, Knight; in the Honorable Office of his Maiesties Lieuetenant, the Lord Maior of the thrice Famous Citty of London. Taking Beginning at his Lord-ships going, and proceeding after his Returne from receiuing the Oath of Maioralty at Westminster, on the Morrow next after Simon and Iudes day, October 29. 1613. All the Showes, Pageants, Chariots; Morning, Noone, and Night-Triumphes. Directed, Written, and redeem’d into Forme, from the Ignorance of some former times, and their Common Writer, By Thomas Middleton. Shewing also his Lordships Entertainement upon Michaelmas day last, being the day of his Election, at that most Famous and Admired Worke of the Running Streame, from Amwell-Head into the Cesterne at Islington, being the sole Cost, Industry and Inuention of the Worthy Mr. Hugh Middleton of London, Goldsmith. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes. 1613. 4to.

Of this pageant there is an earlier edition by the same printer and with the same date, but wanting the Entertainment at the New River Head.

The Triumphs of Truth, &c., is reprinted in Nichols’s Progresses of K. James, vol. ii. p. 679.

To the great expectation of virtue and goodness, and most worthy of all those costs and honours which the noble Fellowship and Society of Grocers, and general love of the whole City, in full-heaped bounties bestow upon him, the truly generous and judicious Sir Thomas Middleton, Knight, Lord Mayor of the honourable City of London.

As often as we shall fix our thoughts upon the Almighty Providence, so often they return to our capacities laden with admiration, either from the divine works of his mercy or those incomprehensible of his justice: but here to instance only his omnipotent mercy, it being the health and preservation of all his works; and first, not only in raising, but also in preserving your lordship from many great and incident dangers, especially in foreign countries, in the time of your youth and travels; and now, with safety, love, and triumph, to establish you in this year’s honour, crowning the perfection of your days, and the gravity of your life, with power, respect, and reverence: next, in that myself, though unworthy, being of one name with your lordship, notwithstanding all oppositions of malice, ignorance, and envy, should thus happily live, protected by part of that mercy—as if one fate did prosperously cleave to one name—now to do service to your fame and worthiness, and my pen only to be employed in these bounteous and honourable triumphs, being but shadows to those eternal glories that stand ready for deservers; to which I commend the deserts of your justice, remaining ever,

To your Lordship,
In the best of my observance,
Thomas Middleton.
THE TRIUMPHS OF TRUTH.

Search all chronicles, histories, records, in what language or letter soever; let the inquisitive man waste the dear treasures of his time and eyesight, he shall conclude his life only in this certainty, that there is no subject upon earth received into the place of his government with the like state and magnificence as is the Lord Mayor of the city of London. This being, then, infallible—like the mistress of our triumphs—and not to be denied of any, how careful ought those gentlemen to be, to whose discretion and judgment the weight and charge of such a business is entirely referred and committed by the whole Society, to have all things correspondent to that generous and noble freeness of cost and liberality; the streams of art to equal those of bounty; a knowledge that may take the true height of such an honourable solemnity,—the miserable want of both which, in the impudent common writer, hath often forced from me much pity and sorrow; and it would heartily grieve any understanding spirit to behold, many times, so glorious a fire in bounty and goodness offering to match itself with freezing Art, sitting in darkness, with the candle out, looking like the picture of Black Monday.[284]

But, to speak truth, which many beside myself can affirm upon knowledge, a care that hath been seldom equalled, and not easily imitated, hath been faithfully shewn in the whole course of this business, both by the wardens and committees, men of much understanding, industry, and carefulness, little weighing the greatness of expense, so the cost might purchase perfection, so fervent hath been their desire to excel in that, which is a learned and virtuous ambition, and so unfeignedly pure the loves and affections of the whole Company to his lordship. If any shall imagine that I set fairer colours upon their deserts than they upon themselves, let them but read and conceive, and their own understandings will light them to the acknowledgment of their errors. First, they may here behold love and bounty opening with the morning, earlier than some of former years, ready, at the first appearing of his lordship, to give his ear a taste of the day’s succeeding glory; and thus the form of it presents itself:—

At Soper-Lane end a senate-house erected, upon which musicians sit playing; and more to quicken time, a sweet voice married to these words:

The Song.
Mother of many honourable sons,
Think not the glass too slowly runs
That in Time’s hand is set,
Because thy worthy son appears not yet:
Lady, be pleas’d, the hour grows on,
Thy joy will be complete anon;
Thou shall behold
The man enroll’d
In honour’s books, whom virtue raises;
Love-circled round,
His triumphs crown’d
With all good wishes, prayers, and praises.
What greater comfort to a mother’s heart,
Than to behold her son’s desert
Go hand in hand with love,
Respect, and honour, blessings from above?
It is of power all griefs to kill,
And with a flood of joy to fill
Thy aged eyes,
To see him rise
With glory deck’d, where expectation,
Grace, truth, and fame,
Met in his name,
Attend[285] his honour’s confirmation.[286]

After this sweet air hath liberally spent itself, at the first appearing of the Lord Mayor from Guildhall in the morning, a trumpet placed upon that scaffold sounds forth his welcome; then, after a strain or two of music, a grave feminine shape presents itself from behind a silk curtain, representing London, attired like a reverend mother, a long white hair naturally flowing on either side of her; on her head a model of steeples and turrets; her habit crimson silk, near to the honourable garment of the city; her left hand holding a key of gold: who, after a comely grace, equally mixed with comfort and reverence, sends from her lips this motherly salutation:

The speech of London.
Honour and joy salute thee! I am rais’d
In comfort and in love to see thee, glad
And happy in thy blessings; nor esteem
My words the less ’cause I a woman speak,
A woman’s counsel is not always weak.
I am thy mother; at that name I know
Thy heart does reverence to me, as becomes
A son of honour, in whose soul burn[287] clear
The sacred lights of divine fear and knowledge;
I know that, at this instant, all the works
Of motherly love in me, shewn to thy youth,
When it was soft and helpless, are summ’d up
In thy most grateful mind: thou well remember’st
All my dear pains and care; with what affection
I cherish[’d] thee in my bosom, watchful still
Over thy ways;
Set wholesome and religious laws before
The footsteps of thy youth; shew’d thee the way
That led thee to the glory of this day,—
To which, with tears of the most fruitful joy
That ever mother shed, I welcome thee:
O, I could be content to take my part
Out of felicity only in weeping,
Thy presence and this day are[288] so dear to me!
Look on my age, my honourable son,
And then begin to think upon thy office;
See how on each side of me hang the cares
Which I bestow’d on thee, in silver hairs;
And now the faith, the love, the zealous fires
With which I cheer’d thy youth, my age requires.
The duty of a mother I have shewn,
Through all the rites of pure affection,
In care, in government, in wealth, in honour,
Brought thee to what thou art, thou’st all from me;
Then what thou shouldst be I expect from thee.
Now to thy charge, thy government, thy cares,
Thy mother in her age submits her years:
And though—to my abundant grief I speak it,
Which now o’erflows my joy—some sons I have
Thankless, unkind, and disobedient,
Rewarding all my bounties with neglect,
And will of purpose wilfully retire
Themselves from doing grace and service to me,
When they’ve got all they can, or hope for, from me,—
The thankfulness in which thy life doth move
Did ever promise fairer fruits of love,
And now they shew themselves; yet they have all
My blessing with them, so the world shall see
’Tis their unkindness, no defect in me.
But go thou forward, my thrice-honour’d son
In ways of goodness; glory is best won
When merit brings it home; disdain all titles
Purchas’d with coin, of honour take thou hold
By thy desert, let others buy’t with gold;
Fix thy most serious thought upon the weight
Thou goest to undergo, ’tis the just government
Of this fam’d city,—me, whom nations call
Their brightest eye; then with great care and fear
Ought I to be o’erseen, to be kept clear:
Spots[289] in deformed faces are scarce noted,
Fair cheeks are stain’d if ne’er so little blotted.
See’st thou this key of gold? it shews thy charge:
This place is the king’s chamber; all pollution,
Sin, and uncleanness, must be lock’d out here,
And be kept sweet with sanctity, faith, and fear:
I see grace take effect,—heaven’s joy upon her!
’Tis rare when virtue opes the gate to honour.
My blessing be upon thee, son and lord,
And on my sons all, that obey my word!

Then making her honour, as before, the Waits of the city there in service, his Lordship, and the worthy Company, are led forward toward the waterside, where you shall find the river[290] decked in the richest glory to receive him; upon whose crystal bosom stand[291] five islands, artfully garnished with all manner of Indian fruit-trees, drugs, spiceries, and the like; the middle island with a fair castle especially beautified.

But making haste to return to the city again, where triumph waits in more splendour and magnificence, the first then that attends to receive his Lordship off the water at Baynard’s-Castle, is Truth’s Angel on horseback, his raiment of white silk powdered with stars of gold; on his head a crown of gold, a trumpeter before him on horseback, and Zeal, the champion of Truth, in a garment of flame-coloured silk, with a bright hair on his head, from which shoot fire-beams, following close after him, mounted alike, his right hand holding a flaming scourge, intimating thereby that as he is the manifester of Truth, he is likewise the chastiser of Ignorance and Error.