of which still survive
in our midst.

Alluding to the revels, there can be no doubt that Shakespeare was
indebted to the revel-books for some of his plots. Thus, in "The
Tempest" (iv. 1), Prospero remarks to Ferdinand and Miranda, after Iris,
Ceres, and Juno have appeared, and the dance of the nymphs is over:

"You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
As if you were dismay'd; be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind."

It has been inferred that Shakespeare was present at Kenilworth, in
1575, when Elizabeth was so grandly entertained there. Lakes and seas
are represented in the masque. Triton, in the likeness of a mermaid,
came towards the queen, says George Gascoigne, and "Arion appeared,
sitting on a dolphin's back." In the dialogue in "A Midsummer-Night's
Dream," between Oberon and Puck (ii. 1), there seems a direct allusion
to this event:

"_Oberon._ My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou remember'st
Since once I sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's music.

_Puck._ I remember."

Then, too, there were the "Children of the Revels," a company who
performed at Blackfriars Theatre. In "Hamlet" (ii. 2), Shakespeare
alludes to these "children-players."[639] Rosencrantz says, in the
conversation preceding the entry of the players, in reply to Hamlet's
inquiry whether the actors have suffered through the result of the late
inhibition, evidently referring to the plague, "Nay, their endeavour
keeps in the wonted pace; but there is, sir, an aery of children, little
eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically
clapped for 't; these are now the fashion; and so berattle the common
stages--so they call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of
goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither."

[639] "The England of Shakespeare," E. Goadby, 1881, p. 153.

_Twelfth-Day._ There can be no doubt that the ti