. . .
They have twentie or fourtie yoke of oxen, every oxe having a sweete
nosegay of flowers tyed on the tippe of his hornes, and these draw
home this Maypole (this stincking idol rather) which is covered all
over with flowers and hearbes, with two or three hundred men, women,
and children following it with great devotion. . . And then they
fall to banquet and feast, daunce and leap about it, as the heathen
people did at the dedication of their idolles, whereof this is a
perfect pattern, or the thing itself.'
This, and much more, says poor Stubbs, in his 'Anatomie of Abuses,'
and had, no doubt, good reason enough for his virtuous indignation at
May-day scandals. But people may be made dull without being made
good; and the direct and only effect of putting down May games and
such like was to cut off the dwellers in towns from all healthy
communion with Nature, and leave them to mere sottishness and
brutality.
Yet perhaps the May games died out, partly because the feelings which
had given rise to them died out before improved personal comforts.
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