tched in stately gravity and gnomic wisdom in its own
wise and stately age.

But if Jonson had deserted the stage after the publication of his folio
and up to the end of the reign of King James, he was far from inactive;
for year after year his inexhaustible inventiveness continued to
contribute to the masquing and entertainment at court. In "The Golden
Age Restored," Pallas turns the Iron Age with its attendant evils into
statues which sink out of sight; in "Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue,"
Atlas figures represented as an old man, his shoulders covered with
snow, and Comus, "the god of cheer or the belly," is one of the
characters, a circumstance which an imaginative boy of ten, named John
Milton, was not to forget. "Pan's Anniversary," late in the reign
of James, proclaimed that Jonson had not yet forgotten how to write
exquisite lyrics, and "The Gipsies Metamorphosed" displayed the old
drollery and broad humorous stroke still unimpaired and unmatchable.
These, too, and the earlier years of Charles were the days of the Apollo
Room of the Devil Tavern where Jonson presided, the absolute monarch of
English literary Bohemia. We hear of a room blazoned about with Jonson's
own judicious "Leges Convivales" in letters of gold, of a company made
up of the choicest spirits of the time, devotedly attached to their
veteran dictator, his reminiscences, opinions, affections, and enmities.
And we hear, too, of valorous potations; but in the words of Herrick
addressed to his master, Jonson, at the Devil Tavern, as at the Dog, the
Triple Tun, and at the Mermaid,

"We such clusters had
As made us nobly wild, not mad,
And yet each verse of thine
Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine."

But the patronage of the court failed in the days of King Charles,
though Jonson was not without royal favours; and the old poet returned
to the stage, producing, between 1625 and 1633, "The Staple of News,"
"The New Inn," "The Magnetic Lady," and "The Tale of a Tub," the last
doubtless revised from a much earlier comedy. None of these plays met
with any marked success, although the scathing generalisation of Dryden
that designated them "Jonson's dotages" is unfair to their genuine
merits. Thus the idea of an office for the gathering, proper dressing,
and promulgation of news (wild flight of the fancy in its time) was
an excellent subject for satire on the existing absurdities among
newsmongers; although as much can hardly be sai