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THE MASQUE OF THE INNS OF COURT. by Percy Bysshe Shelley: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

Percy Bysshe Shelley

This is a fragment of an unfinished verse drama by Shelley set during the reign of King Charles I.

The poem
A PURSUIVANT: Place, for the Marshal of the Masque! FIRST CITIZEN: What thinkest thou of this quaint masque which turns, Like morning from the shadow of the night, The night to day, and London to a place Of peace and joy? SECOND CITIZEN: And Hell to Heaven. _5 Eight years are gone, And they seem hours, since in this populous street I trod on grass made green by summer’s rain, For the red plague kept state within that palace Where now that vanity reigns. In nine years more _10 The roots will be refreshed with civil blood; And thank the mercy of insulted Heaven That sin and wrongs wound, as an orphan’s cry, The patience of the great Avenger’s ear. NOTE: _10 now that vanity reigns 1870; now reigns vanity 1824. A YOUTH: Yet, father, ’tis a happy sight to see, _15 Beautiful, innocent, and unforbidden By God or man;—’tis like the bright procession Of skiey visions in a solemn dream From which men wake as from a Paradise, And draw new strength to tread the thorns of life. _20 If God be good, wherefore should this be evil? And if this be not evil, dost thou not draw Unseasonable poison from the flowers Which bloom so rarely in this barren world? Oh, kill these bitter thoughts which make the present _25 Dark as the future!— ... When Avarice and Tyranny, vigilant Fear, And open-eyed Conspiracy lie sleeping As on Hell’s threshold; and all gentle thoughts Waken to worship Him who giveth joys _30 With His own gift. SECOND CITIZEN: How young art thou in this old age of time! How green in this gray world? Canst thou discern The signs of seasons, yet perceive no hint Of change in that stage-scene in which thou art _35 Not a spectator but an actor? or Art thou a puppet moved by [enginery]? The day that dawns in fire will die in storms, Even though the noon be calm. My travel’s done,— Before the whirlwind wakes I shall have found _40 My inn of lasting rest; but thou must still Be journeying on in this inclement air. Wrap thy old cloak about thy back; Nor leave the broad and plain and beaten road, Although no flowers smile on the trodden dust, _45 For the violet paths of pleasure. This Charles the First Rose like the equinoctial sun,... By vapours, through whose threatening ominous veil Darting his altered influence he has gained This height of noon—from which he must decline _50 Amid the darkness of conflicting storms, To dank extinction and to latest night... There goes The apostate Strafford; he whose titles whispered aphorisms _55 From Machiavel and Bacon: and, if Judas Had been as brazen and as bold as he— NOTES: _33-_37 Canst...enginery 1870; Canst thou not think Of change in that low scene, in which thou art Not a spectator but an actor?... 1824. _43-_57 Wrap...bold as he 1870; omitted 1824. FIRST CITIZEN: That Is the Archbishop. SECOND CITIZEN: Rather say the Pope: London will be soon his Rome: he walks As if he trod upon the heads of men: _60 He looks elate, drunken with blood and gold;— Beside him moves the Babylonian woman Invisibly, and with her as with his shadow, Mitred adulterer! he is joined in sin, Which turns Heaven’s milk of mercy to revenge. _65 THIRD CITIZEN [LIFTING UP HIS EYES]: Good Lord! rain it down upon him!... Amid her ladies walks the papist queen, As if her nice feet scorned our English earth. The Canaanitish Jezebel! I would be A dog if I might tear her with my teeth! _70 There’s old Sir Henry Vane, the Earl of Pembroke, Lord Essex, and Lord Keeper Coventry, And others who make base their English breed By vile participation of their honours With papists, atheists, tyrants, and apostates. _75 When lawyers masque ’tis time for honest men To strip the vizor from their purposes. A seasonable time for masquers this! When Englishmen and Protestants should sit dust on their dishonoured heads _80 To avert the wrath of Him whose scourge is felt For the great sins which have drawn down from Heaven and foreign overthrow. The remnant of the martyred saints in Rochefort Have been abandoned by their faithless allies _85 To that idolatrous and adulterous torturer Lewis of France,—the Palatinate is lost— [ENTER LEIGHTON (WHO HAS BEEN BRANDED IN THE FACE) AND BASTWICK.] Canst thou be—art thou? NOTE: _73 make 1824; made 1839. LEIGHTON: I WAS Leighton: what I AM thou seest. And yet turn thine eyes, And with thy memory look on thy friend’s mind, _90 Which is unchanged, and where is written deep The sentence of my judge. THIRD CITIZEN: Are these the marks with which Laud thinks to improve the image of his Maker Stamped on the face of man? Curses upon him, The impious tyrant! SECOND CITIZEN: It is said besides _95 That lewd and papist drunkards may profane The Sabbath with their And has permitted that most heathenish custom Of dancing round a pole dressed up with wreaths On May-day. _100 A man who thus twice crucifies his God May well ... his brother.—In my mind, friend, The root of all this ill is prelacy. I would cut up the root. THIRD CITIZEN: And by what means? SECOND CITIZEN: Smiting each Bishop under the fifth rib. _105 THIRD CITIZEN: You seem to know the vulnerable place Of these same crocodiles. SECOND CITIZEN: I learnt it in Egyptian bondage, sir. Your worm of Nile Betrays not with its flattering tears like they; For, when they cannot kill, they whine and weep. _110 Nor is it half so greedy of men’s bodies As they of soul and all; nor does it wallow In slime as they in simony and lies And close lusts of the flesh. NOTE: _78-_114 A seasonable...of the flesh 1870; omitted 1824. _108 bondage cj. Forman; bondages 1870. A MARSHALSMAN: Give place, give place! You torch-bearers, advance to the great gate, _115 And then attend the Marshal of the Masque Into the Royal presence. A LAW STUDENT: What thinkest thou Of this quaint show of ours, my aged friend? Even now we see the redness of the torches Inflame the night to the eastward, and the clarions _120 [Gasp?] to us on the wind’s wave. It comes! And their sounds, floating hither round the pageant, Rouse up the astonished air. NOTE: _119-_123 Even now...air 1870; omitted 1824. FIRST CITIZEN: I will not think but that our country’s wounds May yet be healed. The king is just and gracious, _125 Though wicked counsels now pervert his will: These once cast off— SECOND CITIZEN: As adders cast their skins And keep their venom, so kings often change; Councils and counsellors hang on one another, Hiding the loathsome _130 Like the base patchwork of a leper’s rags. THE YOUTH: Oh, still those dissonant thoughts!—List how the music Grows on the enchanted air! And see, the torches Restlessly flashing, and the crowd divided Like waves before an admiral’s prow! NOTE: _132 how the 1870; loud 1824. A MARSHALSMAN: Give place _135 To the Marshal of the Masque! A PURSUIVANT: Room for the King! NOTE: _136 A Pursuivant: Room for the King! 1870; omitted 1824. THE YOUTH: How glorious! See those thronging chariots Rolling, like painted clouds before the wind, Behind their solemn steeds: how some are shaped Like curved sea-shells dyed by the azure depths _140 Of Indian seas; some like the new-born moon; And some like cars in which the Romans climbed (Canopied by Victory’s eagle-wings outspread) The Capitolian—See how gloriously The mettled horses in the torchlight stir _145 Their gallant riders, while they check their pride, Like shapes of some diviner element Than English air, and beings nobler than The envious and admiring multitude. NOTE: _138-40 Rolling...depths 1870; Rolling like painted clouds before the wind Some are Like curved shells, dyed by the azure depths 1824. SECOND CITIZEN: Ay, there they are— _150 Nobles, and sons of nobles, patentees, Monopolists, and stewards of this poor farm, On whose lean sheep sit the prophetic crows, Here is the pomp that strips the houseless orphan, Here is the pride that breaks the desolate heart. _155 These are the lilies glorious as Solomon, Who toil not, neither do they spin,—unless It be the webs they catch poor rogues withal. Here is the surfeit which to them who earn The niggard wages of the earth, scarce leaves _160 The tithe that will support them till they crawl Back to her cold hard bosom. Here is health Followed by grim disease, glory by shame, Waste by lame famine, wealth by squalid want, And England’s sin by England’s punishment. _165 And, as the effect pursues the cause foregone, Lo, giving substance to my words, behold At once the sign and the thing signified— A troop of cripples, beggars, and lean outcasts, Horsed upon stumbling jades, carted with dung, _170 Dragged for a day from cellars and low cabins And rotten hiding-holes, to point the moral Of this presentment, and bring up the rear Of painted pomp with misery! NOTES: _162 her 1870; its 1824. _170 jades 1870; shapes 1824. _173 presentment 1870; presentiment 1824. THE YOUTH: ’Tis but The anti-masque, and serves as discords do _175 In sweetest music. Who would love May flowers If they succeeded not to Winter’s flaw; Or day unchanged by night; or joy itself Without the touch of sorrow? SECOND CITIZEN: I and thou- A MARSHALSMAN: Place, give place! _180 NOTE: _179, _180 I...place! 1870; omitted 1824. SCENE 2:

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
This is a fragment of an unfinished verse drama by Shelley set during the reign of King Charles I. Citizens on a London street observe a royal masque procession and debate whether the spectacle is beautiful or a disguise for tyranny. An idealistic young man finds wonder and joy in the pageant, while an older, wiser citizen views it as a display of corruption, inequality, and impending disaster. The piece serves as a political argument in dramatic form, with Shelley using the masque—a lavish court entertainment—as a symbol of power cloaked in beauty.
Themes

Line-by-line

Place, for the Marshal of the Masque! / What thinkest thou of this quaint masque which turns...
The opening exchange establishes the setting: a royal masque procession is winding its way through the streets of London. The First Citizen watches in awe, describing it as a transformation of night into day and Hell into Heaven. However, the Second Citizen quickly dampens that enthusiasm, reminding his friend that just eight years prior, this same street was deserted due to plague, and in another nine years, it will be drenched in civil blood. He is alluding to the upcoming English Civil War, casting the celebration as a fleeting, deceptive peace amidst looming disasters.
Yet, father, 'tis a happy sight to see, / Beautiful, innocent, and unforbidden...
The Youth delivers the poem's most lyrical passage. He likens the masque to a vision from a solemn dream, something that empowers people to persevere through the struggles of everyday life. He poses a straightforward theological question: if God is good, how can beauty be considered evil? He implores the older man to refrain from tainting the present moment with grim predictions. This speech showcases Shelley at his most Romantic—viewing beauty as a moral force and joy as spiritually valid.
When Avarice and Tyranny, vigilant Fear, / And open-eyed Conspiracy lie sleeping...
The Youth's speech unfolds a vision of a world momentarily at peace, where the darker sides of power lie dormant and kind thoughts emerge to honor God. This idealistic moment stands out in the midst of a profoundly bleak narrative, and Shelley infuses it with genuine warmth before the Second Citizen shatters it.
How young art thou in this old age of time! / How green in this gray world?
The Second Citizen delivers one of the poem's most striking lines. He tells the Youth that he fails to understand the signs of the times and questions whether he is an active participant in history or just a puppet controlled by unseen forces. He then shares a prophecy: the day that begins in fire will end in storms. While he knows he won't witness the impending disaster, the Youth will. His advice — stick to the safe path and steer clear of the tempting roads of pleasure — comes from a man who has seen idealism lead to death.
There goes / The apostate Strafford; he whose titles / whispered aphorisms...
The Second Citizen starts pointing out individuals in the procession, and his remarks are harsh. He labels Strafford an apostate who took his political lessons from Machiavelli and Bacon. Archbishop Laud is referred to as the Pope, charged with transforming London into Rome, and depicted as intoxicated by blood and gold. The 'Babylonian woman' next to him is a biblical slur from Revelation, tying him to spiritual decay. These aren't neutral comments — they're expressions of Puritan anger.
Good Lord! rain it down upon him!... / Amid her ladies walks the papist queen...
A Third Citizen joins in, his anger more palpable than before. He calls Queen Henrietta Maria a 'Canaanitish Jezebel' and declares he would be like a dog ready to tear her with his teeth. He names English nobles who have tarnished their reputations by associating with Catholics and tyrants. His speech links the masque to broader international Protestant issues — the fall of the Palatinate and the betrayal of the Huguenots at La Rochelle — positioning the domestic event as part of a larger crisis of faith and politics.
I WAS Leighton: what / I AM thou seest.
The historical figure Alexander Leighton appears, his face marked as punishment for opposing the bishops. His short speech is striking in its straightforwardness: he was Leighton, and now he is what you see. Yet, he asserts that his mind remains intact and that the judge's sentence is etched there just as profoundly as the brand on his face. This moment showcases Shelley's sharpest commentary on the divide between physical power and moral integrity — the state can scar the body but cannot affect the self.
It is said besides / That lewd and papist drunkards may profane / The Sabbath...
The Second Citizen lists more Puritan grievances: Maypole dancing, breaking the Sabbath, and the corrupting influence of 'prelacy,' or rule by bishops. His solution is straightforward — eliminate the root cause. When the Third Citizen inquires how, the response is to strike each bishop under the fifth rib, a biblical expression for killing. The following metaphors of crocodiles and Egyptian bondage compare the bishops to creatures that shed false tears while consuming everything in their path.
Give place, give place! / You torch-bearers, advance to the great gate...
The Marshalsman and a Law Student break into the political debate as the procession draws near. The Law Student turns to the old man, asking for his thoughts on the event, while painting a picture of the torchlight casting a red glow in the eastern sky and the clarion calls carried by the breeze. This sensory detail is striking and cinematic, drawing the reader back into the spectacle after the lengthy political speeches.
I will not think but that our country's wounds / May yet be healed.
The First Citizen presents a balanced, optimistic view: the king is fair, and it's merely his corrupt advisers who are the issue. The Second Citizen quickly counters this with a striking simile — kings discard their advisers like snakes shed their skins, yet retain their poison. Councils stack up like a leper's rags, concealing the corruption lurking beneath.
Oh, still those dissonant thoughts!—List how the music / Grows on the enchanted air!
The Youth makes another attempt to quiet the political debate by immersing himself in the beauty around him — the music, the torchlight, and the crowd parting like waves. He isn’t naive; he’s deliberately choosing to embrace the beauty of the moment instead of being overwhelmed by fear of what’s to come.
How glorious! See those thronging chariots / Rolling, like painted clouds before the wind...
The Youth's depiction of the masque procession stands out as the most beautiful part of the poem. Chariots resembling sea-shells and new moons, horses shining in the torchlight, and riders appearing like creatures from another world—Shelley showcases the full extent of his lyrical talent in this passage. The imagery is truly stunning, which makes the Second Citizen's reaction feel even harsher.
Ay, there they are— / Nobles, and sons of nobles, patentees...
The Second Citizen translates every image the Youth just provided into its political reality. The glorious riders are monopolists and patentees who exploit orphans and shatter desolate hearts. The lilies, as glorious as Solomon, are men who weave traps to ensnare the poor. The excess of the rich leaves the workers with barely enough to survive. And then, to illustrate his point, the actual anti-masque arrives: a group of cripples, beggars, and outcasts pulled from cellars to follow the pageant like a grotesque tail. The sign and what it signifies come together.
'Tis but / The anti-masque, and serves as discords do / In sweetest music.
The Youth has the final say before the scene closes. He reframes the parade of misery as the anti-masque, the traditional comic or grotesque counterpart to the main masque performance. He contends that sorrow allows for joy, just as winter gives meaning to May flowers. The Second Citizen starts to respond — 'I and thou—' — but is interrupted by the Marshalsman asking for space for the King. The argument remains unresolved, which is precisely the point.

Tone & mood

The tone shifts frequently between different voices, which is intentional. The Youth expresses himself with lyrical wonder and genuine warmth—his lines have a vast, skyward quality reminiscent of Shelley’s finest Romantic poetry. The Second Citizen’s voice carries a cold, prophetic bitterness, reflecting the perspective of someone who has seen enough of history to no longer be surprised. The Third Citizen is even more raw, his anger bordering on violence. Shelley doesn’t merge these tones into one; instead, the poem maintains their tension, and the unresolved debate at its conclusion makes a statement of its own. Beneath it all is a profound sense of political sorrow—this is a writer who equally valued beauty and justice but struggled to bring the two together.

Symbols & metaphors

  • The MasqueThe royal masque stands as the poem's main symbol. It symbolizes political power cloaking itself in beauty—an act meant to transform tyranny into art. Shelley explores whether beauty can truly be innocent when it's backed by oppression and questions if appreciating it makes one complicit.
  • The Anti-Masque (cripples and beggars)The outcasts trailing the grand procession represent the harsh economic reality behind the spectacle. In traditional court masques, the anti-masque served as a comedic or grotesque introduction to the main event. Shelley flips this order—showing the misery at the end as the truth concealed by the beauty.
  • Leighton's branded faceAlexander Leighton's scarred face represents state violence against free thought. His claim that his mind remains unaffected by the brand illustrates a dual message: the state's ability to mark the body and the individual's determination to stay inwardly free.
  • The adder shedding its skinThe Second Citizen's comparison of kings to adders—who shed their skins yet retain their venom—represents a critique of political reform that ultimately leaves core issues unchanged. Shelley suggests that the real problem lies not with misguided advisers, but with the inherent nature of monarchy itself.
  • The torchlightThe torches lighting up the procession feature prominently in the poem. For the Youth, they represent enchantment; for the Second Citizen, the fiery dawn will end in storms. Light here carries a dual nature—it's beautiful yet foreboding, depending on the viewer's perspective.
  • The lilies of SolomonThe Second Citizen's ironic reference to the Gospel image — the lilies that neither toil nor spin — transforms a symbol of divine providence into one of aristocratic parasitism. The nobles may shine like Solomon's lilies, but in reality, they weave webs to ensnare the poor.

Historical context

Shelley crafted this fragment between 1819 and 1820 as part of an unfinished verse drama about King Charles I and the events leading to the English Civil War. It is set in the 1630s, a time when Charles I ruled without Parliament, Archbishop Laud enforced High Church practices on a predominantly Puritan population, and tensions between the Crown and its subjects were escalating toward the civil war and the king's execution in 1649. The Inns of Court Masque, which took place in 1634, was an actual event staged by lawyers to demonstrate loyalty to the Crown. Shelley uses this event to explore how spectacle can reinforce power. The fragment first appeared in an incomplete form in 1824, two years after Shelley's death, and a more complete version was published in 1870. Shelley's fascination with this period was driven by both historical and contemporary interests—he viewed the Stuart monarchy as a reflection of the oppressive politics of his own time, especially following the Peterloo Massacre of 1819.

FAQ

It’s a piece from an incomplete verse drama, which is a type of play written in verse. Shelley never finished it. What remains are various scenes and speeches, and the text we have is drawn from two significantly different published editions from 1824 and 1870. You might consider it more of a dramatic poem than a traditional play or a lyric poem.

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