The general care of these and other shows was intrusted to the Master of Revels. This office is described in an official book compiled by Edmund Tylney, a Master of Revels, 1579-1610. He says: “The office of yᵉ Revels consisteth of a Wardropp and other several Roomes, for Artificers to worke in--viz., Taylors, Imbrotherers, Property-makers, Paynters, Wyer drawers and Carpenters, togeather with a convenient place for yᵉ rehearsals and setting forthe of Playes and other Showes for those Services.” The first Master of Revels was Sir Thomas Cawerden, appointed in 1546. He was followed by Sir Thomas Benger, Edmund Tylney, Sir George Busk, Sir John Astley, and Sir Henry Herbert. With him the importance of the post ceased; the office, however, was still continued. It survives--or lingers--in the Licenser of Plays. So few read Ben Jonson’s Masques that I ask no excuse for presenting one. We will take the masque called “The Hue and Cry after Cupid.” It was written as a wedding entertainment. The scene represented a high, steep red cliff mounting to the sky, a red cliff because the occasion was the wedding of one of the Radcliffs. The cliff was also “a note of height, greatness, and antiquity.” Before the cliff on the two sides were two pilasters charged with spoils and trophies of Venus and Cupid: hearts transfixed, hearts burning, young men and maidens buried with roses, garlands, arrows, and so forth--all of burnished gold. Over the pillars hovered the figures of Triumph and Victory, twice the size of life, completing the arch and holding a garland of myrtle for the key. Beyond the cliff, cloud and obscurity. Then music began; the clouds vanished; two doves followed by two swans drew forth a triumphant chariot, in which sat Venus crowned with her star, and beneath her the three Graces, “all attired according to their antique figures”--which is obscure and doubtful. Venus descends from the chariot, and is followed by the Graces: “It is no common cause, you will conceive, My lovely Graces, makes your goddess leave Her state in Heaven to-night, to visit earth. Love late is fled away, my eldest birth, Cupid, whom I did joy to call my son; And whom long absent, Venus is undone. Spy, if you can, his footsteps on the green; For here, as I am told, he late hath been. * * * * * Find ye no track of his stray’d feet?” _1st. G._ Not I. _2d. G._ Not I. _3d. G._ Not I. _Venus._ Stay, nymphs; we then will try A nearer way. Look at these ladies’ eyes, And see if there he not concealèd lies. Perchance he hath some simple heart to hide His subtle shape in ... * * * * * Begin, soft Graces, and proclaim reward To her that brings him in. Speak to be heard.