essaries by him spent therein;" while
to Robert Moore, the apothecary, a sum of L1 7s. 4d. is paid for
"prepared corianders," musk, clove, cinnamon, and ginger comfits, rose
and "spike" water, "all which," it is noted, "served for flakes of
snow and haylestones in the maske of 'Janus;' the rose-water sweetened
the balls made for snow-balls, and presented to her majesty by Janus."
The storm in this masque must clearly have been of a very elegant and
courtly kind, with sugar-plums for hailstones and perfumed water for
rain. The tempests of the public theatres were assuredly conducted
after a ruder method. In his prologue to "Every Man in his Humour,"
Ben Jonson finds occasion to censure contemporary dramatists for the
"ill customs" of their plays, and to warn the audience that his
production is not as others are:

He rather prays you will be pleased to see
One such to-day as other plays should be;
Where neither chorus wafts you o'er the seas,
Nor creaking throne comes down the boys to please,
Nor nimble squib is seen to make afeard
The gentlewomen; nor rolled bullet heard
To say it thunders; nor tempestuous drum
Rumbles to tell you when the storm doth come, &c.

It has been conjectured that satirical allusion was here intended to
the writings of Shakespeare; yet it is certain that Shakespeare
sustained a part, most probably that of Old Knowell, in the first
representation of Jonson's comedy. Storms are undoubtedly of frequent
occurrence in Shakespeare's plays. Thus, "Macbeth" and "The Tempest"
both open with thunder and lightning; there is "loud weather" in "The
Winter's Tale;" there is thunder in "The First Part of King Henry
VI.," when La Pucelle invokes the fiends to aid her endeavours;
thunder and lightning in "The Second Part of King Henry VI.," when
Margery Jourdain conjures up the spirit Asmath; thunder and lightning
in "Julius Caesar;" a storm at sea in "Pericles," and a hurricane in
"King Lear." It is to be noted, however, that all these plays could
hardly have been represented so early as 1598, when "Every Man in his
Humour" was first performed.

From Jonson's prologue it appears that the rumbling of thunder was at
that time imitated by the rolling to and fro of bullets or
cannon-balls. This plan was in time superseded by more ingenious
contrivances. It is curious to find, however, that some fifty years
ago one Lee, manager of the Edinburgh Theatre, with a view to
improving