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i 


FULL    TEXT    OF    AUTOGRAPH    LETTER    TO    BIB    ROBERT    rECll.,    KEU.    1-,    1602-3 
Ficsimlle,  reduced  by  unu  thin),  fios  original  MS.  In  lUlfli'ld  Libmry 


0 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS 


OF 


JOHN  LYLY 


NOW  FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME   COLLECTED 

AND  EDITED  FROM  THE  EARLIEST  QUARTOS 

WITH  LIFE,  BIBLIOGRAPHY,  ESSAYS 

NOTES,  AND   INDEX 

BY 

R.  WARWICK  BOND,  M.A. 

Sad  patience  that  waiteth  at  the  doore. — The  Bee, 

Cenz  qui  ont  M  les  pr^d^cessears  des  grands  esprits,  et  qui 
ont  contribnd  en  qnelqne  fa9on  k  lenr  Education,  lenr  doivent  d'etre 
saay^  de  Toabli.  Dante  fait  vivre  Bmnetto  Latini,  Milton  da 
Bartas;  Shakespeare  fait  vivre  Lyly. — M^zi^RES. 


VOL.  Ill 

THE  PLAYS  (CONTINUED).    ANTI-MARTINIST 

WORK.    POEMS.    GLOSSARY  AND 

GENERAL  INDEX 


OXFORD 

AT  THE   CLARENDON   PRESS 

MDCCCCII 


HARVARD'  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

APPROPRIATION 

FOR  pUPUGATE  BOOKS 


fi 


HBNRY  FROWDB,  M.A. 

PUBUSHBR  TO  THB  UNIVBRSITy  OP  OXFORD 

LONDON,  EDINBURGH 

NEW  YORK 


\J 


■\-'^ 


CONTENTS 


VOLUME    I 

PAGE 

Gate  of  the  Revels  Office Frontispiece 

LIFE  OF  JOHN  LYLY i 

EUPHUES: 

DISCUSSION  OF  THE  TEXT  AND  BIBLIOGRAPHY       .         .       83 

LIST  OF  EDITIONS 100 

TITLES,  &c 106 

ESSAY  ON  EUPHUES  AND  EUPHUISM        .        .        .119 

EUPHUES— THE  ANATOMY  OF  WYT  (Text)      .        .177 

„  „        „  „        „       (Notes)   .       .       .327 

BIOGRAPHICAL  APPENDIX 377 

ENTERTAINMENTS  (Introduction) 404 

„  (Text) 410 

A  FUNERAL  ORATION 509 

NOTES: 

ENTERTAINMENTS 517 

A  FUNERAL  ORATION .538 

NOTE  ON  SENTENCE-STRUCTURE  IN  EUPHUES        .         .        .539 

ERRATA  AND  ADDENDA  TO  THE  THREE  VOLUMES        .        .     54a 

VOLUME    II 

Title-Page  of  Euphues,  Pt.  I Frontispiece 

EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND  (Text)        .        .        .        .  i 
THE  PLAYS  : 

CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 230 

ESSAY  ON  LYLY  AS  A  PLAYWRIGHT  ....  231 

CAMPASPE  (Introduction) 30a 

„             (Text) 3^3 

SAPHO  AND  PHAO  (Introduction)        ....  362 

(Text) 369 

GALLATHEA  (Introduction) 4^8 

„            (Text) 4^9 

NOTE  ON  ITALIAN  INFLUENCE 473 

NOTES : 

EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND 486 

CAMPASPE 540 

SAPHO  AND  PHAO 5.S4 

GALLATHEA 5^4 


iv  CONTENTS 

VOLUME    III 

Autograph  Letter  of  Lyly  (Feb.  4,  1602-3)    .        .       Frontispiece 

THE  PLAYS  (continued):  page 

INTRODUCTORY  MATTER  OF  BLOUNTS  EDITION    .         .  i 

ENDIMION  (Introduction) 6 

„  (Text) 17 

„  ESSAY  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN        .         .         .81 

MIDAS  (Introduction) 106 

„        (Text) 113 

MOTHER  BOMBIE  (Introduction) 164 

„               „           (Text) 171 

THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  (Introduction)  .        .  229 

„  „  „  (Text).       .       .       .239 

LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS  (Introduction)    .       .       .289 

„                    (Text) 299 

THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  (Doubtful)— 

(Introduction)  .       .       .       .-.       .       .       .333 

(Text) 341 

ANTI-MARTINIST  WORK,  &c: 

PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  (Introduction)     .       .  388 

,»            >»          >i            )i          (Text)     ....  393 

A  WHIP  FOR  AN  APE  (Introduction)  ....  415 

>i            »           »           (Text) 417 

MAR-MARTINE  (part  of) '  .        .423 

THE  TRIUMPHS  OF  TROPHES 427 

POEMS  (Doubtful): 

List  of  Sources 433 

Introduction 434 

Text 448 

NOTES: 

ENDIMION 503 

MIDAS 519 

MOTHER  BOMBIE 537 

THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE 554 

LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS 563 

THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS 569 

PAPPE  WITH  AN  HATCHET 573 

A  WHIP  FOR  AN  APE,  &c 589 

INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES   OF  SONGS   OR  POEMS      .         .        .  592 

GLOSSARY  TO  THE  THREE  VOLUMES 596 

GENERAL  INDEX  TO  THE  THREE  VOLUMES  .         .         .         .605 


INTRODUCTORY  MATTER  OF  BLOUNT'S 

EDITION 

Title. 


SIXE 

COVRT 

Comedies. 

often  Prefented  and  Aded 

before  §lueene  Elizabeth, 

by  the  Children  of  her  Ma- 

lefHes  Chappell,  and  the 
Children  of  Paules. 

W{r)itten 

By  the  onely  Rare  Poet^of  that 

Time,  The  Wide,  Comicall, 

Facetioufly'§l^icke  and 

vnparalelld  .• 

loHN  Lilly,  Mafter 

of  Arts. 

Decles  Repetita  placebunt 
LO  N  no  N 

Printed  by  Wittiam  Stanshy  for  Edward 
Blount.  I  (^  3  2. 

[The  six  plays,  given  in  this  order  of  enumeration,  are  i.  Endimion 
(for  which  play  alone  there  appears  no  separate  title-page  in  the  half- 
dozen   copies   known   to  me).      2.    Campaspe  (with   running-title 

BONO  III  B 


2    INTRODUCTORY  MATTER  OF  BLOUNT'S  EDITION 

'  A  tragicall  Comedie  of  |  Alexander  and  Campaspe ').  3.  Sapho 
and  Phao.  ^.  Gallathea,  ^>  My  das,  6,  Mother  Bombie.  Blount's 
edition  first  prints  the  words  of  the  numerous  Songs,  though  some 
of  those  mentioned  in  the  dialogue  or  in  stage-directions  are  still 
missing.  It  prints,  however,  from  the  later  and  more  corrupt 
quartos,  correcting  but  a  very  few  of  their  errors  and  adding  an 
immense  number  of  its  own,  the  majority  of  which  have  been 
reproduced  in  Fairholt's  edition.  Blount,  moreover,  misplaces  several 
pages  in  the  fifth  Act  of  Sapho  and  Phao,] 


The  Epistle  Dedicatorie 

To  the  Right  Honovrable  Richard  Lvmley,  Viscount  Lvmley  of 

Waterford. 
My  noble  Lord: 

It  can  be  no  dishonor,  to  listen  to  this  Poets  Musike,  whose 

Tunes  alighted  in  the  Eares  of  a  great  and  euer-famous  Queene :  his 

Inuention,  was  so  curiously  strung,  that  EUzaes  Court  held  his  notes 

in  Admiration.     Light  A)rres  are  now  in  fashion ;  And  these  being 

not  sad,  fit  the  season,  though  perchance  not  sute  so  well  with  your 

more  serious  Contemplations. 

The  spring  is  at  hand,  and  therefore  I  present  you  a  Lilly, 
growing  in  a  Groue  of  Lawrels.  For  this  Poet,  sat  at  the  Sunnts 
Table:  Apollo  gaue  him  a  wreath  of  his  owne  Bayes\  without 
snatching.     The  Lyre  he  played  on,  had  no  borrowed  strings. 

I  am  (my  Lord)  no  executor,  yet  I  presume  to  distribute  the 

Goods  of  the   Dead ;    Their  value  beeing  no  way  answerable  to 

those  Debts  of  dutie  and  affection,  in  which  I  stand  obliged  to  your 

Lordship.     The  greatest  treasure  our  Poet  left  behind  him,  are  these 

six.  ingots  of  refined   inuention:   richer  than   Gold.      Were  they 

Diamonds  they  are  now  yours.    Accept  them  (Noble  Lord)  in  part ; 

and  Mee 

Your  Lordships  euer  Obliged  and  Denoted 

Ed.  Blount. 

To  the  Reader. 

Reader,  I  haue  (for  the  loue  I  beare  to  Posteritie)  dig'd  vp  the 
Graue  of  a  Rare  and  Excellent  Poet,  whom  Queene  Elizabeth 
then  heard,  Graced,  and  Rewarded.    These  Papers  of  his,  lay  like 


INTRODUCTORY  MATTER  OF  BLOUNTS  EDITION     3 

dead  Lawrels  in  a  Churchyard ;  But  I  haue  gathered  the  scattered 
branches  vp,  and  by  a  Charme  (gotten  from  Apollo)  made  them 
greene  againe,  and  set  them  vp  as  Epitaphes  to  his  Memory. 

A  sinne  it  were  to  suffer  these  Rare  Monuments  of  wit,  to  lye 
couered  in  Dust,  and  a  shame,  such  conceipted  Comedies,  should 
be  Acted  by  none  but  wormes.  Obliuion  shall  not  so  trample  on 
a  Sonne  of  the  Muses  \  And  such  a  sonne,  as  they  called  their 
Darling.  Our  Nation  are  in  his  debt  for  a  new  English  which  hee 
taught  them.  E{u)pkues  and  his  England  began  first  that  language : 
All  our  Ladies  were  then  his  Schollers ;  And  that  Beautie  in  Court, 
which  could  not  Parley,  Eupkueisme^  was  as  litle  regarded ;  as  shee 
which  now  there,  speakes  not  French. 

These  his  playes  Crown'd  him  with  applause,  and  the  Spectators 
with  pleasure.  Thou  canst  not  repent  the  Reading  of  them  ouer : 
when  Old  John  Ully,  is  merry  with  thee  in  thy  Chamber,  Thou  shalt 
say,  P  ew  (or  None)  of  our  Poets  now  are  such  witty  Companions : 
And  thanke  mee,  that  brings  him  to  thy  Acquaintance. 

Thine.  Ed.  Blovnt. 


[The  book  has  no  colophon.] 


B  2 


NOTE  ON  THE  TREATMENT  ADOPTED  IN-  THE  TEXT 

OF  THE  PLAYS 

The  text  followed  in  the  Plays  is  that  of  the  earliest  quarto,  in  tyerj  case 
except  that  of  Campaspe,  where  only  the  second  (thongh  of  the  same  year)  was 
accessible.  In  later  quartos  corruption  outweighs  correction;  and  Blount's  ed. 
1632,  which  Fairholt  unfortunately  followed,  is  the  worst  offender.  Obvious  errors 
are  corrected  from  the  earliest  edition  where  the  correction  is  found,  and  the 
reading  of  the  editio  princeps  given  in  the  footnotes,  where  also  all  variants  are 
reported.    Each  footnote  implies  a  collation  of  all  editions. 

All  modem  insertions  are  enclosed  in  angular  brackets  (  ),  all  those  due  to 
preceding  editors  being  assigned  to  them  in  footnotes. 

The  numbering  of  Acts  and  Scenes  is  that  of  the  quartos;  the  numbering  of  lines 
in  a  scene,  and  the  arrangement  of  them  in  the  verse  of  The  Woman ^  tcl-j  own.  I  hare 
localized  the  scenes,  and  noted  at  the  same  time  any  case  of  abrupt  transfer. 

Old  stage-directions  appear  here,  though  not  invariably  in  the  old  editions,  an- 
bracketed  and  in  italics,  the  original  spelling  being  always  retained.  Many,  even 
for  entry  and  exit,  were  omitted  in  the  oM  editions;  some  carelessly,  some  as 
inferable  from  the  dialogue.  In  inserted  stage-directions  names  are  spelt  as  in 
the  modem  list  of  Dramatis  Personae,  to  which  the  prefixes  to  speeches  are  also 
confomaed,  any  mistxdces  of  the  quartos  being  noted. 

In  speeches  the  general  rale  of  the  quartos,  to  print  names  of  persons  in  italics 
and  geographical  or  national  names  in  romans,  has  been  uniformly  followed. 

As  to  punctuation,  I  have  inserted,  omitted,  or  transpK)sed  stops  with  less  scruple 
than  in  the  Euphues^  retaining  the  old  irregularity  wherever  possible  without  injury 
to  effect,  and  reporting  every  change  that  could  affect  sense. 

The  Bibliography,  Sources,  Date,  and  other  matters  appertaining  to  each  Play 
are  discussed  in  their  several  Introductions ;  for  general  criticism  of  each,  or  of 
all,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  essay  on  Lyly  as  a  Playwright,  pp.  231-89  of 
the  second  volume. 

In  the  footnotes  italics  are  reserved  for  the  editor's  comment. 

Qi  QQ  ""  QnartOy  Quartos :  the  small  distinguishing  numbers  referring  to  the 
list  of '  Editions '  prefixed  to  eadi  play. 
Bl,  -»  Blount's  Sixe  Cffort  Comedies  (1632). 
Dil,  r-.  C.  W.  Dilke's  Old  Plays,  vol.  i  or  U  (1814). 
/^  -  F.  W.  Fairholt*s  edition  of  Lyly's  Plays  {Library  of  Old  Authors, 
a  vols.  1858). 
Bak,  -  G.  P.  Baker's  Lyly's  Endymion  (New  York,  1894). 
s.D.  =  Stage-direction. 

'  Rest '  after  a  symbol  implies  the  agreement  of  all  subsequent  editions. 

'  Before '  and  '  after,'  always  of  some  addition,  not  of  mere  substitution  or 
transposition. 

*  Only,'  of  words  entirely  unrepresented  in  other  editions. 

If  a  word  cited  from  a  line  in  the  text  occurs  more  than  once  in  that  line,  it  has 
a  small  distinguishing  number  affixed  to  it  in  the  footnote ;  thus,  his ']. 


SINCE  the  sheets  of  my  book  have  been  printed  off  and  bound, 
the  following  of  the  pieces  which  in  Vol.  Ill  I  have,  under  the 
title  Doubtful,  printed  as  being  possibly  (see  pp.  438,  440,  442)  or 
probably  written  by  Lyly,  have  been  found  by  Professor  H.  Littledale 
or  myself  to  be  the  work  of  other  hands,  viz. : — 

No.  I  forms  11.  112-53  of  an  eclogue  in  Arcadia^  Bk.  i,  ad  fin., 
added  in  1593  foL, — ^not  in  1590  40,  and  perhaps  not  certainly 
Sidney's.  No.  63  (p.  498)  is  from  Arcadia  (1590  4<*),  Bk.  ii,  f.  176V. 
Nos.  2,  3  (p.  449)  are  by  W.  Baldwine;  No.  4  (p.  450)  by  John 
Higgins:  No.  5  (p.  450),  No.  22  (p.  452),  and  No.  54  by  Robert 
Southwell :  No.  57  is  an  extract  from  Spenser's  Mother  Hubberd^s 
Taie :  and  the  English  lines  in  No.  68  form  the  closing  couplets  of 
stt  120,  144,  145,  179,  213  of  The  Rape  of  Lucrece,  I  must  have 
included  both  these  last  by  some  lapse  of  memory  for  which 
I  cannot  now  account ;  The  Mirror  for  Magistrates ^  which  contains 
Nos.  2,  3,  4,  and  Southwell's  Poems,  from  which  5,  22  and  54  are 
taken,  I  had  not  searched,  being  misled  by  Harl.  MS.  6910,  which 
gave  these  books  as  the  sources  of  other  of  its  extracts.  The  key  to 
the  authorship  of  No.  64  is  bound  up,  I  think,  with  that  to  the  cast 
of  The  Returne  from  Pernassus 


ENDIMION 


EDITIONS 

*  4*«  Octobris  1 591  mystres  Broome  Wydowe  Late  Wyfe  of  William  Broome 
Entred  for  her  copies  vnder  the  hand  of  the  Bishop  of  London :  Three  Comedies 
plaied  before  her  maiestie  by  the  Children  of  Paules  th  one  Called.  Endimion.  Th 
other.  Galathea  and  th  other,  Midas  .  . .  xviij<^.*    Sta,  Reg.  ii.  p.  596  (ed.  Arb.). 

Q.  Endimion^  \  The  Man  in  the  \  Afoane.  \  Playd  before  the  Queenes  Ma-\iestie 
at  Creentwich  on  CandUmas  day  \  at  nighty  by  the  Chyldren  of\  Paules,  \  Ai 
London,  \  Printed  by  I.  Charlewoody  for  \  the  widdovte  Broome,  \  1591.  |  4to.  A, 
A  a,  B-K  3  in  fours.    No  col.    (Br.  Mns.) 

On  Aug.  33,  1601  the  play  is  transferred  together  with  Campaspe,  Sapho  and 
Phao,  Gallathea,  and  Midas  from  <  mystres  Brome  Lately  Deceased '  to  George 
Potter  {JSta,  Peg,  iii.  191,  ed.  Arb.);  and  on  Jan.  9, 1628  is  entered  to  Bloont  as 
one  of  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies  {Sta,  Peg,  iv.  192). 

scond  ed.       In  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies^  Endimion  is  printed  first,  but  follows  the  Prefiace 
ilonnt's).    without  any  separate  title-page.    The  Prologue  occupies  sig.  a  6  verso,  the  play 

itself  the  sixty  leaves  of  sigs.  b-f  in  twelves,  and  the  Epilogue  G  recto,  the  verso 

being  left  blank. 

Also  given  with  Introduction  and  Notes  in  Dilke*s  Old  English  Plays,  1814, 
vol.  ii ;  in  Fairfaolt's  edition  of  the  plays,  1858,  vol.  i ;  and  separately  with  Bio- 
graphical Introduction  and  Notes  by  G.  P.  Baker  (New  Vork,  1894,  8vo). 


ENDIMION 

Argument.  —  Telms,  whom  Endimion  has  abandoned  to  follow 
a  hopeless  passion  for  Cynthia,  disregards  the  dissuasions  of  her 
confidante  Floscula,  and  plots  with  the  witch  Dipsas  to  bring  Ijim 
into  trouble.  Cynthia  grows  cold  to  him  (ii.  3.  2-3,  iv.  3.  80-3), 
and  he  himself  lying  in  despair  upon  a  lunary-bank  is  charmed  by 
Dipsas  to  a  slumber  of  forty  years.  Cynthia,  relenting,  dispatches 
his  friend  Eumenides  and  others  to  seek  aid ;  and  punishes  some 
malicious  words  of  Tellus  by  close  imprisonment  under  Corsites. 
The  latter,  in  love  with  his  captive,  allows  himself  to  be  engaged  in 
a  hopeless  attempt  to  remove  Endimion  from  his  position ;  but  is 
himself  attacked  by  fairies,  pinched  black  and  blue,  and  made 
a  laughing-stock  to  Cynthia  visiting  the  spot  with  her  Court.  The 
philosophers  she  has  summoned  cannot  break  the  spell:  but 
Eumenides,  by  double  virtue  of  his  truth  as  a  lover  and  a  friend, 
has  learned  from  a  magic  fountain  that  the  sleeper  can  be  awakened 
by  the  kiss  of  Cynthia;  and  the  remedy,  coyly  applied,  proves 
successful  Bagoa,  Dipsas'  maid,  now  betrays  her  mistress'  wicked 
arts,  and  Tellus  confesses  her  revenge  taken  upon  Endimion,  who 
thereupon  acknowledges  his  passion  for  Cynthia.  Her  gracious 
allowance  of  a  love  she  will  not  openly  return  restores  him  to  youth. 
Tellus  is  pardoned  and  united  to  Corsites ;  Semele,  condemned  to 
a  year's  silence  for  spiteful  speech,  breaks  the  prohibition  to  protest 
against  her  forced  bestowal  on  Eumenides;  but  is  won  by  her 
lover's  offer  of  his  own  tongue  to  ransom  hers:  Geron,  exiled  to 
the  fountain  for  fifty  years  by  his  wife  Dipsas'  intrigues,  is  reunited 
with  her :  and  Bagoa,  changed  by  her  to  an  aspen-tree,  recovers  her 
true  shape  and  finds  a  husband  in  the  foolish  braggart  Sir  Tophas. 
The  latter's  intercourse  with  three  chaffing  pages  supplies  a  some- 
what tedious  comic  element,  connected,  however,  with  the  main-plot 
by  his  ridiculous  passion  for  the  crone  Dipsas,  which  is  probably 
intended  as  the  parody  of  Endimion's  for  Cynthia. 

Text  and  Bibliography. — The  text  here  followed  is  that  of 


S  ENDIMION 

the  first  and  only  known  quarto,  that  of  1591.  From  the  absence 
of  Lyly's  name  on  the  title-page,  and  from  the  Printer's  statement  to 
the  Reader  that  the  play  came  -into  his  hands  by  chance  after  the 
PauFs  boys  were  silenced,  we  may  perhaps  infer  that  Lyly  was  not 
personally  concerned  in  its  publication.  Its  errors  are  comparatively 
few,  twenty-five  in  all;  of  which  four  (i.  3.  33,  iii.  3.  31,  iv.  3.  18, 
27)  are  of  punctuation  affecting  the  sense,  four  others  (i.  3.  43-4, 
54,  iii.  3.  29,  V,  I.  119)  may  be  called  serious,  and  the  rest  are 
merely  orthographical  and  easily  corrigible  by  the  reader. 

Blounfs  edition  {Sixe  Covrt  Comedies^  1632)  corrects  eleven  of 
these  minor  errors,  and  adds  the  words  of  the  Songs,  and  the  Dumb 
Show  before  Act  iii.  It  also  makes  thirteen  corruptions,  six  of  them 
important  (i.  3.  31,  ii.  2.  37,  Dumb  Show  p.  39  *  readeth,'  iii.  3.  39, 
iv.  I.  35,  iv.  3.  148),  four  of  which  persist  until  the  present  edition. 

Dilke  {Old  Eng,  Flays,  vol.  ii.  1814)  corrects  the  text  in  fifteen 
places,  including  six  of  the  eight  important  errors  of  the  quarto,  adds 
some  needed  stage-directions,  and  supplies  a  brief  critical  notice  and 
a  few  notes :  but  he  modernizes  not  merely  the  spelling,  but  also 
the  idiom,  in  twenty-two  places;  makes  a  large  number  of  quite 
otiose  if  slight  changes,  such  as  the  substitution  of  the  singular  for 
plural  of  a  substantive,  the  omission  or  insertion  of '  a '  and  '  the,' 
&c.,  and  is  further  guilty  of  twelve  bad  corruptions,  e.  g.  i.  3.  9,  ii.  3. 
13,  iii.  4.  118,  iv.  2.  71,  iv.  3.  130,  v.  2.  87,  v.  3.  240,  &c. 

Fairholty  in  his  collected  edition  of  the  plays,  follows  the  text  of 
Blount,  making  but  one  correction  (i.  3.  54)  and  corrupting  the  text  in 
twenty-nine  places,  of  which  i.  3.  i,  ii.  2.  141,  iii.  i.  17,  32,  iii.  4.  19, 
105,  iv.  I.  50,  iv.  3.  28,  v.  I.  47,  70,  may  be  called  serious.  His 
notes,  however,  and  his  restoration  of  the  mistake,  iii.  3.  32,  'pari' 
for  Tari,'  which  Blount  had  corrected,  show  that  he  had  the  quarto 
before  him. 

Bilker  {Lyifs  Etidymion^  New  York,  1894)  emends  the  text  in 
six  places  (i.  i.  72,  ii.  i.  32,  iii.  i.  50,  iv.  2.  36,  43,  v.  3.  92);  sup^ 
plies  about  a  score  of  stage<lirections ;  makes  eight  other  changes 
in  the  text,  of  which  six  are  needless,  and  two  (iv.  2.  14,  iv.  3.  83) 
injurious ;  and,  moreover,  reproduces  some  of  the  corruptions  in- 
troduced by  Fairholt's  edition.  But  Mr.  Baker's  Endymian^  with  its 
careful  notes  and  full  biographical  introduction,  is,  in  spite  of  its 
modernization,  its  want  of  access  to  the  quarto,  and  its  unsound 
hypotheses  in  the  biography,  a  valuable  and  scholarly  piece  of 
work,  which  I  have  found  useful  in  writing  my  own  life. 


INTRODUCTION  9 

Authorship.  —  Lyiy  is  not  named  in  the  entry  in  the  Stationers* 
Register^  nor  on  the  title-page  of  the  quarto :  but  the  performance 
of  the  play  by  the  Paul's  boys,  its  inclusion  in  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies^ 
its  euphuistic  style,  and  about  a  dozen  marked  reminiscences  of 
Euphues  which  it  exhibits,  leave  us  in  no  doubt  about  the  author- 
ship. 

Source :  the  Allegory  in  the  Play.  —  In  Lucian's  short 
dialogue  {Deorum  Dial,  11)  Selene  draws  for  Venus  a  pretty  picture 
of  Endymion  lying  asleep  on  his  cloak,  after  hunting,  upon  the 
mountain  of  Latmos,  his  darts  slipping  from  his  left  hand  while  his 
right  is  thrown  back  round  his  head,  and  of  herself  advancing  on 
tiptoe  so  as  not  to  awake  him,  and — *  but  you  know  the  rest,'  she 
breaks  off,  'and  I  needn't  tell  you  more,  except  that  I  am  terribly  in 
love  with  him.'  Brief  allusions  are  also  found  in  Pausanias  v.  i^ 
§§  2—4;  Hyginus  Fab.  271 ;  Ovid  Art,  Am,  iii.  83,  &c.  But  it  is 
obvious  that  the  materials  afforded  by  the  classical  myth,  the 
perpetual  sleep  and  the  kiss  of  Cynthia  were  insufficient  for  a  play ; 
and  what  Lyly  has  done  is  to  weave  around  this  beautiful  picture  an 
all^orical  drama  of  Court-life  whose  action  has  no  place  nor  counter- 
part at  all  in  the  myth.  The  Moon-Goddess  becomes  a  queen 
surrounded  by  her  Court ;  the  Greek  shepherd,  her  favourite  courtier. 
As  the  double  subject  of  this  Court-allegory  Lyly  takes  the  two  most 
salient  features  in  the  domestic  history  of  the  reign  (i)  the  rivalry 
between  Elizabeth  (Cynthia)  and  Mary  of  Scotland  (Tellus);  (2) 
the  Queen's  perennial  affection  for,  and  temporary  displeasure  (in 
1579)  with,  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicester  (Endimion) ;  a  sufficient 
warrant  for  the  dramatic  connexion  of  the  two  being  supplied  in  the 
match  actually  contemplated  between  Mary  and  Leicester  in  1563- 
1565.  This  double  subject  is  supplemented  by  two  subordinate  and 
connected  subjects  (i)  the  quarrel  between  the  Earl  and  Countess  of 
Shrewsbury  (Geron  and  Dipsas) ;  (2)  the  relations  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney 
(Eumenides)  with  his  uncle  Leicester  and  his  love  Penelope  Rich, 
n^e  Devereux  (Semele) ;  while  several  other  personages  more  or  less 
prominent  are  introduced.  With  this  Court-allegory  Lyly  attempts, 
without  much  success,  to  combine  a  physical  allegory  of  the  Moon 
and  the  Earth  as  heavenly  bodies. 

The  proper  development  of  this  view,  suggested  of  course  by 
Halpin's  well-known  essay  OberotCs  Vision  (Shakespeare  Society, 
1843),  from  which,  however^  I  have  made  wide  departures,  would 


lO 


ENDIl^nON 


occupy  too  much  space  in  thb  Introduction;  I  have,  therefore, 
relegated  it  to  a  separate  essay  (see  pp.  81-103),  and  merely  append 
here  my  key  to  the  cast,  side  by  side  with  that  of  Halpin. 


Endimion 

Enmenides 

Corsites 

Geron 

Panelion) 

Zontes     I 

Sir  Tophas 

Cynthia 

Teilus 

Semele 

Floscula 


Halpin 

Earl  of  Leicester 
Earl  of  Sussex 
Sir  Edward  Stafford 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury 

(unidenti6ed) 

Stephen  Gosson 
Queen  Elizabeth 
Lady  Sheffield  (n^ 

Howard) 
Frances  Sidney 

Lady  Essex 


1 


Bond 

Earl  of  Leicester 
Sir  Philip  Sidney 
Sir  Amyas  Paulet 
Eari  of  Shrewsbury 
^fLord  Burleigh 
(Sir  Francis  Walsingham 
Gabriel  Harvey 
Queen  Elizabeth 
Mary  Queen  oC  Scots 

Lady  Rich  (nde  Penelope 

Devereux) 
Lady  Essex,  or  Frances 

Howard 
?  Countess  of  Lennox 


Bagoa  (unidentified) 

Dipsas  Countess  of  Shrewsbury      Countess  of  Shrewsbury 

For  the  rest — Dares,  Samias,  Epiton,  Scintilla,  Favilla;  Pytha- 
goras and  Gyptes — I  have  no  suggestions  to  offer^  feeling  it  un- 
necessary to  suppose  that  Lyly  had  an  original  in  mind  for  every 
one  of  his  minor  characters,  especially  where  they  have  absolutely  no 
effect  on  the  plot'.  But  Halpin  professes  himself  'convinced,  from 
the  importance  of  their  names,  contrasted  with  the  nothing  they  have 
to  do  in  the  action,  that  the  two  latter,  at  least,  were  not  introduced 
merely  to  fill  up  the  theatrical  pomp,  without  any  more  dignity  or 
significance'  {Oberon's  Vision^  p.  75). 

Sir  Tophas,  it  may  be  added,  apart  from  his  allegorical  significance 
as  Harvey  or  Gosson,  is  founded  on  the  Miles  Gloriosus  of  Plautus : 
while  that  part  of  Endimion *s  dream  (Dumb  Show  and  v.  1. 104  sqq.) 
which  relates  to  an  old  man  offering  a  book  with  three  leaves,  is 
obviously  adapted  from  the  fable  of  Tarquin  and  the  Sibyl,  related 
by  Aulus  Gellius  {Noct,  Att,  i.  19). 

Date.  —  It  is  obvious  that  the  view  taken  of  the  Allegory  must 
affect  that  taken  of  the  date.  My  interpretation  requires  a  date  not 
eariier  than  September  14,  1584,  when  Shrewsbury  ((}eron)  made 
his  moving  appeal  to  the  Privy  Council  ('The  other  old  man,  what 

^  Hence  the  note  of  interrogation  appended  to  the  two  lords  in  my  cast 


INTRODUCTION  1 1 

a  sad  speech  vsed  he,  that  caused  vs  almost  all  to  weepe/  v.  t.  3), 
and  not  later  than  the  first  half  of  1586,  for  Sidney  (Eumenides) 
died  at  Zutphen  in  September  of  that  year,  and  Mary's  (Tellus)  long 
period  of  grace  ended  with  her  condemnation  at  Fotheringay  on 
October  25.  The  commencement  of  Sir  Amyas  Paulet's  (Corsites) 
custody  of  her  on  April  17,  1585,  and  the  departure  of  Sidney  and 
Leicester  for  the  Netherlands  (November  16  and  December  10), 
after  which  Lyly  is  hardly  likely  to  have  undertaken  the  composition, 
suggest  yet  narrower  limits.  The  title-page  announces  it  as  played 
on  '  Candlemas  day  at  night.'  I  believe  the  Candlemas  in  question 
to  be  February  2,  1585-6*,  and  consider  the  play  to  have  been 
written  between  May  and  November  of  the  preceding  year. 

This  date  may  find  independent  support  (i)  from  that  of  its 
appearance  in  print.  Whereas  Campaspt  and  Sapho  are  published 
in  1584;  and  'Titirus  and  Galathea,'  i.e.  Gallathea^  is  entered  in 
the  Stationers'  Register  on  April  i,  1585 — it  was  not  proceeded  with 
because,  as  Mr.  Baker  shows,  the  inhibition  on  the  Paul's  boys'  acting 
was  probably  removed  near  the  end  of  the  month — we  hear  nothing 
oiEndimion  till  the  entry  of  October  4, 1591.  The  natural  inference 
is  that,  at  the  time  of  these  earlier  publications  and  contemplated 
publication,  it  was  not  yet  composed.  Its  description  by  the  Printer 
in  1 59 1  as  *the  first'  of 'certaine  Commedies  come  to  my  handes 
by  cbaunce,'  the  others  being  Gallathea  and  Midas^  need  mean  no 
more  than  that  it  was  the  first  that  so  came  to  his  hands  on  the  fresh 
inhibition  of  the  boys  in  1590  or  1591.  If  Blount  in  1632  prints  it 
first  among  his  Sixe  Cavrt  Comedies^  he  probably  does  so  because  it 
is  the  best  representative  of  that  title :  in  his  original  entry  of  the 
volume  (5/fl.  Reg,  January  9,  1627—8)  the  plays  appear  in  the 
following  order — '  Campaste,  Sapho,  and  Phao,  Galathea :  Endimion 
Midas  and  Mother  Bomby' — which  I  believe  was  that  of  their 
production. 

(2)  Lyly's  appointment  as  Vicemaster  of  the  Paul's  boys  in  1585 

'  In  Chalmen*  lists  of  payments  extracted  from  the  Council  Registers  (BoswelKs 
Malon^s  Shakespeare,  iiL  423-5  and  44a  note)  those  made  between  June  26, 1582, 
and  Feb.  19, 1586,  are  reported  as  lost.  A  similar  gap  exists  in  the  fragments  of 
the  Revels  Accounts  recovered  by  Cunningham,  from  the  end  of  Oct.  1585  to  the 
end  of  Oct.  1587.  The  absence  of  any  record  of  a  Court-performance  by  the 
Paul's  bojrs  need  not,  therefore,  constrain  us,  as  it  constrains  Mr.  Fleay  {Biog, 
Chnm.  ii.  41),  to  date  the  play  as  late  as  Feb.  2, 1588 ;  nor  do  the  Revels  Accounts, 
p.  198,  afford  us  anjrthing  more  precise  for  that  year  than  that  the  Queen  was 
spending  that  Christmas  at  Greenwich,  and  that  the  Paul's  boys  played  before  her 
some  time  '  betwixte  Christmas  and  Shrovetid.' 


12  ENDIMION 

(see  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  32  sqq.)  would  make  Endimion^  in  which  the 
flattery  of  Elizabeth  is  more  elaborate  and  direct  than  in  any  other 
play,  a  natural  offering  on  receipt  of  that  appointment 

(3)  The  amount  and  character  of  the  euphuism  which  it  exhibits 
indicate  a  date  about  the  middle  of  Lyly's  dramatic  career.  Con- 
siderably longer  as  it  is  than  any  other  of  his  plays  (occupying  61  pp.), 
it  exhibits  only  eleven  distinct  reminiscences  of  Euphues^  while  his 
earliest  play,  Campaspe  (45  pp.),  has  thirty,  and  Mother  Bombie 
(56  pp.),  his  latest  prose  play  with  the  partial  exception  of  Laves 
MetamorphosiSy  only  one  or  two.  Of  cases  of  single  alliteration  used  to 
mark  balance  Mr.  C.  G.  Child  ^  counts  an  equal  number  with  that  in 
CampaspCy  seventy,  while  he  gives  Mother  Bombie  only  nineteen  :  of 
transverse  alliteration  Campaspe  affords  twenty-six  instances,  EntUmion 
twelve,  Mother  Bombie  only  one.  And  the  general  effect,  which  is 
hardly  expressible  in  tabular  form,  is  to  my  ear  smoother,  less  con- 
strained to  a  perpetual  antithesis,  than  it  is  not  only,  as  Mr.  Child 
allows,  in  Campaspe  and  Sapho,  but  also  in  Gallathea  and  Loves 
Metamorphosis. 

This  last  argument  alone  is  fatal  to  so  early  a  date  as  the  autumn 
o^  1^579)  assigned  by  Mr.  Baker  in  his  Introduction  to  the  play,  and 
accepted  without  misgiving  by  Professor  Ward^.  The  assignment 
is  bound  up  with  Mr.  Baker's  belief  in  an  early  connexion  between 
Lyly  and  Leicester ;  and  he  considers  that  the  delay  in  the  issue  of 
the  Second  Part  of  Euphues^  which  he  supposes  finished  by  July  24, 
i579»  ^^c  date  of  its  entry,  was  due  to  the  contemporary  disgrace  of 
Leicester.  Endimion^  he  maintains,  was  composed  and  acted  during 
a  brief  return  of  Court  favour — between  the  middle  of  September 
and  some  date  before  November  1 2,  when  a  letter  of  Leicester  to 
Burleigh  shows  him  to  be  again  in  disgrace — ^as  an  attempt  on  the 
favourite's  part  to  present  a  softened  view  and  excuse  of  his  recent 
marriage  to  Lady  Elssex  ;  and  was  one  of  those  '  devises  to  Receave 
the  Freenche'  whose  preparation  involved  Tylney  in  so  much 
*  botehyer '  to  and  from  Greenwich  during  that  autumn  *.  But  not 
only  does  it  seem  little  likely  that  Leicester  would  consent  to 
represent  his  wife,  who  is  ex  hypothesi  represented  by  Tellus,  as  a  poor 
jealous  dupe,  the  mere  cloak  of  his  passion  for  the  Queen ;  but  it 

is  vastly  improbable  that  either  Lyly  or  Leicester  would  dream  of 

t 

'  See  his  Table,  quoted  above,  vol.  ii.  p.  289. 

'  English  Dramatic  Literature  (ed.  1^),  i.  a89--9a. 

*  Baker's  Endymion^  pp.  xxziii,  IxzxW,  zci,  clix,  &c,  and  Revels  Accounts, 

pp.  153.  »59- 


INTRODUCTION  13 

dramatizing  this  delicate  matter  before  the  whole  Court,  at  a  time 
when  the  wound  to  the  Queen's  feelings  was  still  fresh.  The  whole 
idea  of  a  connexion  between  Leicester  and  Lyly  rests  on  the  most 
shadowy  foundations.  If  it  existed,  would  not  Leicester  have  been 
eulogized  along  with  Burleigh  in  Euphue^  Giassefor  Europe?  This 
eulogy,  together  with  the  dedication  to  Burleigh's  son-in-law  Oxford, 
as  well  as  Lyly's  letter  of  1582,  are  enough  to  show  that  Lyly  was 
not  yet  attached  to  the  faction  of  Leicester,  to  whom  Burleigh  was 
generaUy  in  (^position.  The  delay  in  publishing  Euphues  and  Ms 
England  was  due,  not  to  any  disgrace  of  Leicester,  but  simply  to  its 
unfinished  state,  as  is  clear  from  the  allusion  in  the  middle  of  the 
book  (vol.  ii.  p.  99, 1. 1 7)  to  Gosson's  Ephemerides  ofPhialo^  which  was 
not  entered  in  the  Stationer^  Register  \!C\  November  7,  1579:  nor,  if 
Endimion  had  been  then  written,  would  the  youthful  Lyly  be  likely  to 
ignore  it  as  he  does  in  his  Dedication,  voL  ii.  p.  4, 1.  11  'I  haue 
brought  into  the  worlde  two  children,'  namely,  the  First  and  Second 
Parts  of  Euphues,  Lastly,  to  suppose  that  an  allegory  so  long  and 
elaborate  as  that  of  Endimion  could  be  planned  and  composed  by  an 
inexperienced  dramatist  of  twenty-five,  and  then  rehearsed  and  per- 
formed, all  in  the  narrow  space  of  two  or  three  weeks  between 
Leicester's  partial  restoration  to  favour  in  September  and  the  close 
of  Tylney's  rehearsing-work  early  in  October,  is  to  suppose  what 
is  practically  impossible  \ 

I  date  the  composition,  then.  May  to  November,  1585,  and  the 
first  performance  at  Court  February  2,  1586. 

Imitations.  —  The  relation  and  character  of  Sir  Tophas  and 
Epiton  are  closely  followed  by  Shakespeare  in  those  of  Armado  and 
Moth,  and  Sir  Tophas  pairing  with  Bagoa  is  paralleled  by  Armado's 
declension  upon  Jaquenetta.  The  pinching  of  Corsites  by  fairies  is 
borrowed  for  the  punishment  of  Falstaff  in  the  Merry  Wives^  Act  v. 

'  Far  less  thooghtfiil,  though  more  fortunate,  was  Mr.  Joel  Spingam*s  attempt, 
is  a  letter  to  the  Athenaeum  of  Aag.  4,  1894,  to  show  that  the  play  was  written 
in  1586,  because  seven  years*  waiting  is  three  times  alluded  to  (ii.  i.  14,  iii.  4. 
54,  vr,  2.  114),  and,  as  Tylney  had  been  appointed  Master  of.  the  Revels  in 
1579,  Lyly  had  been  waiting  for  the  post  since  that  date.  In  my  answer  {A then, 
Aug.  11)  I  pointed  out  that  *  seven  years*  is  probably  merely  a  conventional 
expression  for  a  long  period,  and  that  if  Lyly  was  only  '  entertained  her  Majesties 
leruant '  in  1579  his  '  despair*  at  Tylney's  appointment  in  that  year  was  unreason- 
able. It  now  appears,  since  the  first  petition  speaking  of  ten  years'  service  dates 
in  1595  (see  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  33),  that  he  did  not  even  receive  the  vague  promise 
of  the  Mastership  till  1585. 


14  ENDIMION 

See  also  the  Essay  in  vol.  ii.  pp.  297-8 :  the  allegory  of  Oberon's 
speech  in  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  is  largely  suggested  by  our 
play :  and  Dogberry  and  his  fellows  are  indebted  to  the  Watch,  iv.  2, 
pp.  57-8. 

Place  and  Time.  —  I  have  marked  the  localities  of  the  several 
scenes,  though  Mr.  Baker  justly  remarks  on  the  difficulty  of  doing 
so  satisfactorily.  Either  no  hint  is  given,  or  it  is  contradicted  by 
something  else  :  thus  Corsites  speaks  in  iv.  3  of  removing  Endimion 
'  from  this  Caban,'  though  he  fell  asleep  in  ii.  3  on  the  lunary-bank 
(but  see  note  ad  loc.) ;  and  later  on  (in  iv.  3,  line  54)  Cynthia  and  her 
courtiers  speak  as  if  on  their  way  to  the  lunary-bank,  while  a  few 
lines  later  (1.  7 5)  they  are  evidently  beside  it.  Mr.  Baker  concludes  that 
'  Lyly's  audience  was  to  follow  in  imagination  where  he  led  :  if  it  was 
important  to  know  the  place  he  gave  a  hint  of  it ;  if  it  was  not,  no 
one  bothered  about  it ;  he  could  shift  his  place  at  will,  even  in  the 
same  scene.'  This  is  quite  the  correct  account  of  the  matter :  such 
imaginary  transfer  in  the  middle  of  a  scene  is  pretty  frequent  in  the 
pre-Shakespearean  drama,  where  there  was  seldom  any  definite 
scenery  to  localize  the  stage  as  one  particular  spot  in  the  first 
instance.  Lyly  employs  it  at  least  four  times  in  his  earliest  play 
Campaspe^  though  but  rarely  afterwards  (see  for  fuller  notice,  and 
instances  from  other  dramatists,  the  essay  on  *•  Lyly  as  a  Playwright,' 
vol.  ii.  p.  269).  Other  examples  of  an  ideal  treatment  of  Place  in  the 
present  play  are  found  in  the  fact  that,  though  Tellus  is  imprisoned 
in  '  the  Castle  in  the  Deserte,'  p.  41,  she  can  dispatch  Corsites  to 
the  lunary-bank  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Court,  and  witness  his 
unavailing  efforts  from  her  prison,  p.  54;  while  in  v.  3,  p.  72,  the 
lords  who  have  just  left  Cynthia  speak  of  bringing  Tellus,  who  is 
apparently  still  at  the  castle,  immediately  before  her,  and  do  so  bring 
her  forty  lines  later.  Again,  though  Eumenides  has  been  absent 
from  Court  so  long  that  Cynthia  fears  he  is  dead,  p.  60,  and  Geron 
alludes  to  the  tedious  journey  from  the  fountain  back  to  Court,  p.  52, 
yet  Epiton,  iv.  2. 67,  speaks  of  it  as  '  hard  by,'  i.e.  near  the  lunary-bank, 
whose  guardians  enter  just  afterwards. 

A  similar  confusion  hangs  over  his.  treatment  of  Time.  In  regard 
to  Endimion's  slumber,  Dilke  noted  the  inconsistency  between  the 
'almost  these  twentie  yeeres,'  of  iii.  4.  19,  axid  the  *fortie  yeeres,' 
of  v.  I.  50.  This  lapse  of  twenty  years  during  the  journey  back 
to  Court  is  contradicted  by  the  fact  that  Geron,  banished  as  a  young 


INTRODUCTION  15 

man,  has  in  iii.  4.  5  been  at  the  fountain  *  these  fiftie  Winters/  while 
in  y.  3.  21,  Dipsas  has  practised  the  wicked  arts  that  caused  his 
exile,  not  seventy,  but  only  *  almost  these  fiftie  yeeres.'  There  is  the 
further  inconsistency  that,  while  the  actual  lapse  of  a  long  period  is 
marked  by  the  growth  of  the  twig  supporting  Endimion's  head  into 
a  tree,  v.  i.  51-2,  none  of  the  characters  except  Endimion  have 
aged  at  all.  Cynthia,  of  course,  was  secure  of  an  immortality  of 
youth  and  beauty;  but  the  pages  still  possess  their  pagehood  and 
impudence,  Semele's  charms  are  still  the  object  of  ardent  passion, 
and  Tellus  has  lived  but  'few  yeres,'  v.  3.  57.  Clearly  we  must 
recognize  a  treatment  of  Time,  as  of  Place,  quite  arbitrary.  Where 
it  is  necessary  to  indicate  intervals  for  a  special  effect,  Lyly  does  so ; 
but  otherwise  the  play  proceeds  on  the  general  assumption  that  the 
events  are  compressed  into  a  few  days.  When  it  suits  his  purpose, 
the  characters  are  sent  on  journeys  to  places  far  distant ;  but  other 
passages  show  that,  for  stage-purposes,  these  same  places,  the  magic 
fountain  and  the  castle  in  the  desert,  are  conceived  as  lying  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  Court.  In  the  present  case  these 
inconsistencies,  more  marked  than  in  any  other  play,  may  be 
adopted  as  appropriate  to  his  'tale  of  the  Man  in  the  Moone,' 
which,  as  the  Prologue  confesses,  may  *seeme  ridiculous  for  the 
method ' :  but  his  general  practice  exhibits  something  of  the  same 
inconsistency,  arguing  not,  I  think,  an  incomplete  intelligence  of 
the  dramatic  Unities,  but  an  indecision  as  to  whether  they  should 
or  should  not  be  observed.  Taking  them  as  his  working  basis,  he 
contradicts  them  when  he  feels  inclined,  without  care  to  make  his 
contradiction  complete ;  and  so  this  play,  and  his  work  considered 
§s  a  whole,  occupies  an  intermediate  position  between  classical  rule 
supported  by  contemporary  precedent  and  that  absolute  freedom 
exercised  by  the  later  Romanticists. 


ENDIMION, 

The  Man  in  the 

v5Moone->. 


Playd  before  the  Queenes  Ma- 

ieftie  at  Greencwich  on  Candlemas  day 

at  nighi,  by  the  Chyldren  of 

Panics. 


AT  LONDON. 

Printed  by  I.  Charlewood,  for 

the  widdowe  Broome. 

J  59 1. 


♦  The  Printer  to  the 
Reader. 

Since  the  Plaies  in  Paules  were  dissolued,  there  are  certaine 
Commedies  come  to  my  handes  by  chaunce,  which  were 
presented  before  her  Maiestie  at  seuerall  times  by  the  children  of 
Paules.  This  is  the  first,  and  if  in  any  place  it  shall  dysplease, 
I  will  take  more  paines  to  perfect  the  next.  I  referre  it  to  thy  5 
indifferent  iudgement  to  peruse,  whom  I  woulde  willinglie  please. 
And  if  this  may  passe  with  thy  good  lyking,  I  will  then  goe  forwarde 
to  publish  the  rest.  In  the  meane  time,  let  this  haue  thy  good 
worde  for  my  better  encouragement. 

Farewell.      10 

I  This  address  is  found  in  the  Quarto  only 


<  DRAMATIS  PERSONiE. 

Endimion,  in  lave  with  Cynthia. 
EuMENiDES,  his  friend,  in  love  with  Semeie, 
—    CORSiTES,  a  Captain^  in  lave  with  Tellus, 

Panelion,|^^^^  ^fCynthia^s  Court. 

ZONTES,       J  "^      ^ 

Pythagoras,  a  Greek  Philosopher. 
Gyptes,  an  Egyptian  Soothsayer. 
Geron,  an  old  man,  husband  to  Dipsas. 
Sir  Tophas,  a  foolish  braggart. 
Dares,  Page  to  Endimion. 
Samias,  Page  to  Eumenides. 
Epiton,  Page  to  Sir  Tophas. 
Master  Constable, 
ist  and  2nd  Watchmen. 
Cynthia,  the  queen. 

'ellus,  in  love  with  Endimion.  ' 
Floscula,  her  attendant  and  confidante. 
Semele,  beloved  by  Eumenides.* 
Scintilla, 
Favilla, 
DiPSAS,  an  old  Enchantress. 
Bagoa,  her  Servant, 

Watchmen,  Fairies,  three  Ladies  and  an  old  Man  in  the 
Dumb  Show. 

Scene. — Chiefly  at  Cynthia^ s  Court.") 

Dram.  Pers.]  list  first  suppL  Dil.  4  Panelion]  Pantalion  DiL  F.  and 

so  in  Act  iii.  sc.  i,  1.  50  Bl.  Dil.  F. :    Pantlion  in  Q,  But  later  (iv.  3 ;  v.  i  and  .^) 
always  Panelion  all  eds. :  and  so  Baker  here  and  iii.  i  lo-i  i  /  reverse  the 

services  of  the  two  Pages ,  as  given  by  Dil,  F.  Bak.    See  note 


\  Maids  in  waiting  at  the  Court. 


c  2 


/ 


^ 
X 


THE  PROLOGUE. 

A/fOst  high  and  happy  PHncesse^  we  must  tell  you  a  tale  of  the 

-^  ^^      Man  in  the  Moone^  which  if  it  seeme  ridiculous  for  the  method^ 

or  superfluous  for  the  matter^  or  for  the  meanes  incredible^  for  three 

faultes  wee  can  make  but  one  excuse.    It  is  a  tale  of  the  Man  in  the 

Moone, 

//  wc^  forbidden  in  olde  time  to  dispute  of  Chymera^  because  it 
was  a  fiction  :  we  hope  in  our  times  none  will  apply  pc^ times,  because 
they  are  fancies  ;  for  there  liueth  none  vnder  the  Sunne,  that  knowes 
what  to  make  of  the  Man  in  the  Moone,  Wee  present  neither  Comedie^ 
nor  Tragedie^  nor  storie,  nor  anie  things  but  that  whosoeuer  heareth  ,q 
may  say  thiSy  Why  heere  is  a  tale  of  the  Man  in  the  Moone, 

8  know  Bak, 


ENDIMION 

ACTUS   PRIMUS 

SCiENA  Prima.— <Gar^«j  of  Cynthia's  Palace,) 

{Enter)  Endimion.     Eumenides. 

End.  T  Finde  Eumenides  in  all  thinges  both  varietie  to  content, 
X  &  satietie  to  glut,  saiuing  onelie  in  my  affections,  which 
are  so  stayed^  and  withall  so  statelie,  that  I  can  neither  satis-fie  my 
hart  with  loue,  nor  mine  eyes  with  wonder.  My  thoughts  Eumenides 
5  are  stitched  to  the  starrest  which  beeing  as  high  as  I  can  see,  thou 
maist  imagin  how  much  higher  they  are  then  I  can  reach. 

Eum,   If  you  be  enamored  of  any  thing  aboue  the  Moone,  your 

thoughts  are  ridiculous,  for  that  thinges  immortall  are  not  subiect  to 

affections;   if  allured  or  enchaunted  with  these  transitory  things 

lo  vnder  the  Moone(^you  shew  your  selfe  sencelesse,  to  attribute  such 

lofty  tytles,  to  such  lowe  trifles. 

End,   My  loue  is  placed  neither  vnder  the  Moone  nor  aboue. 
Eum,  I  hope  you  be  not  sotted  upon  the  man  in  the  Moone. 
End.  No ;  but  setled,   eyther  to  die,  or  possesse  the  Moone 
15  herselfe. 

Eum.   Is  Endimion  mad,  or  doe  I  mistake?  doe  you  loue  the 
Moone  Endimion  f 

End.  Eumenides^  the  Moone. 

Eum.  There  was  neuer  any  so  peeuish  to  imagin  the  Moone 

20  eyther  capable  of  affection,  or  shape  of  a  Mistris :  for  as  impossible 

it  is  to  make  loue  fit  to  her  humor  which  no  man  knoweth^as  a  coate 

to  her  forme,  which  continueth  not  in  one  bignesse  whilst  she  is 

measuring.      Cease  of  Endimion  to  feed  so  much  vpon  fancies. 

Actus  Primus  .  .  .  Palace]  the  division  into  Acts  and  Scenes  is  that  of  the 
oldest  cmd  all  succeeding  editions.  The  localities  of  the  severed  scenes  are  first 
marked  in  this  1 1  lowe]  lone  all  eds.  2 1  sit  Bl.  F.  the  latter  giving  the  true 
reading  in  the  notes  aa-3  continneth  . . .  measuring,  and  just  behw  melancholy 
. .  .  purged,  are  printed  by  Bl,  in  italics  33  Cease  of  Q  Bl.  F. :  Cease  Dil. : 

Cease  off  Bak. 


23  ENDIMION  [act  I 

That  melancholy  blood  must  be  purged,  which  draweth  you  to 
a  dotage  no  lesse  miserable  then  monstrous.  35 

End,   My  thoughts  haue  no  vaines,  and  yet  vnlesse  they  be  let 
blood,  I  shall  perrish. 

Eum.   But  they  haue  vanities,  which  beeing  reformed,  you  may  be 
restored. 

End,   O  fayre  Cynthia^  why  doe  others  terme  thee  vnconstant,  yr 
whom  I  haue  euer  founde  vnmoueable  ?    Iniurious  tyme,  corrupt 
manners,  vnkind  men,  who  finding  a  constancy  not  to  be  matched 
in  my  sweete  Mistris,  haue  christned  her  with  the  name  of  wauering, 
waxing,   and  waning.     Is  shee  inconstant  that  keepeth  a  setled 
course,  which  since  her  first  creation  altereth  not  one  minute  in  her  55 
mouing?    There  is  nothing  thought  more  admirable  or  commend- 
able in  the  sea^  then  the  ebbing  and  flowing ;  and  shall  the  Moone, 
from  whom   the  Sea  taketh  this  vertue,  be  accounted  fickle  .for 
encreasing,  &  decreasing  ?    Flowers  in  theyr  buds  are  nothing  worth 
till  they  be  blowne,  nor  blossomes  accounted  till  they  be  ripe  40 
fruite :  and  shal  we  then  say  they  be  changeable,  for  that  they  growe 
from  seedes  to  leaues,  from  leaues  to  buds^  from  buds  to  the3nr 
perfection  ?  then,  why  be  not  twigs  that  become  trees,  children  that 
become  men,  and  Mornings  that  grow  to  Euenings,  termed  waueringi 
for  that  they  continue  not  at  one  stay  ?  I,  but  Cynthia^  being  in  her  45 
fulnes,  decayeth^  as  not  delighting  in  her  greatest  beautie^  or  withering 
when  she  should  be  most  honoured.    When  mallice  cannot  obiect 
any  thing,  folly  will,  making  that  a  vice,  which  is  the  greatest  vertue. 
What  thing  (my  Mistris  excepted)  being  in  the  pride  of  her  beauty, 
&  latter  minute  of  her  age,  that  waxeth  young  againe?    Tell  meeso 
Eumenides^  what  is  hee  that  hauing  a  Mistris  of  ripe  yeeres,  &  infinite 
vertues,  great  honors,  and  vnspeakeable  beauty,  but  woulde  wish 
that  shee  might  grow  tender  againe  ?  getting  youth  by  yeeres,  and 
neuer  decaying  beauty  by  time,   whose  fayre  face,   neyther  the 
Summers  blase  can  scorch,   nor   Winters  blast  chappe,   nor  the  55 
numbring  of  yeeres  breede  altering  of  colours.     Such  is  my  sweete 
Cynthia^  whom  tyme  cannot  touch,  because  she  is  diuine,  nor  will 
offend  because  she  is  delicate.    O  Cynthia^  if  thou  shouldest  alwaies 
continue  at  thy  fulnes,  both  Gods  and  men  woulde  conspire  to 
rauish  thee.     But  thou  to  abate  the  pride  of  our  affections,  dost  60 
detract  from  thy  perfections,  thinking  it  sufficient,  if  once  in  a  month 

31  immoveable  Dil,  Bak,  50  that  om.  DiL  56  colour  Dil, 


sc.  i]  ENDIMION  23 

we  enioy  a  glymse  of  thy  maiesde^  and  then,  to  encrease  our  greefes, 
thou  doost  decrease  thy  glemes,  comming  out  of  thy  royall  robes, 
wherewith  thou  dazelist  our  eyes,  downe  into  thy  swath  dowtes, 

65  b^;uiling  our  eyes.    And  then — 

Eum,  Stay  there  Endimion^  thou  that  committest  Idolatry,  wilt 
straight  blaspheme,  if  thou  be  suffered.  Sleepe  woulde  doe  thee 
more  good  then  speech  :  the  Moone  heareth  thee  not,  or  if  shee  doe, 
r^;ardeth  thee  not 

70  End.  Vaine  Eumetddts^  whose  thoughts  neuer  grow  higher  th6 
the  crowne  of  thy  head.  Why  troublest  thou  me,  hauing  neither 
heade  to  conceiue  the  cause  of  my  loue,  or  a  hart  to  receiue  the 
impressions  ?  followe  thou  thine  owne  fortunes,  which  creepe  on  the 
earth,  &  suffer  me  to  flye  to  mine,  whose  fall  though  it  be  desperate, 

75  yet  shall  it  come  by  daring.     Farewell.  {Exit") 

Eum.  Without  doubt  Endimion  is  bewitched,  otherwise  in  a  man 

of  such  rare  vertues  there   could  not  harbor  a  minde  of  such 

extreame  madnes.    I  wil  follow  him,  least  in  this  fancie  of  the      1 

Moone,  he  depriue  himselfe  of  the  sight  of  the  Sunne.  Exit 

SCiENA  Secunda.-<754^  same,) 

{Enter)  Tellus.     Floscula. 

TeUus.  Trecherous  and  most  periurde  Endimon,  is  Cynthia  the 
sweetnes  of  thy  life,  and  the  bitternes  of  my  death  ?    What  reuenge  1 
may  be  deuised  so  full  of  shame,  as  my  thoughts  are  replenished  ^ 
■  with  mallice  ?    Tell  me  Floscula  if  falsenes  in  loue  can  possibly  be 
i  punished  with  extremitie  of  hate.    As  long  as  sworde,  fire,  or  poison 
may  be  hyred,  no  traytor  to  my  loue  shall  Hue  vnreuenged.    Were 
thy  oathes  without  number,  thy  kisses  without  measure,  thy  sighes 
without  end,  forged  to  deceiue  a  poore  credulous  virgin,  whose 
simplicity  had  beene  worth  thy  fauour  and  better  fortune  ?    If  the 
10  Gods  sitte  vnequall  beholders  of  iniuries,  or  laughers  at   Louers     /  - 
deceipts^  then  let  mischiefe  be  as  well  forgiuen  in  women^  as  periurie 
winked  at  in  men. 

Flosc.  Madame,  if  you  woulde  compare  the  state  of  Cynthia  with 
your  owne,  and  the  height  oi  Endimion  his  thoughts,  with  the  meane- 

67-8  Sleepe .  . .  speech  italicized  BL  73  a  om,  Dil,  Bak.  the  latter  reading 

nor  heart  73  impreision  Dil,  s.  D.  [Exit]  suppl,  Dil,         14  Eadimioa 

his]  EndymioQ  s  Bak, 


24  ENDIMION  [act  i 

nesse  of  your  fortune,  you  would  rather  yeeld  then  contende,  being  15 
betweene  you  and  her  no  comparison,  and  rather  wonder  then  rage 
at  the  greatnes  of  his  minde,  beeing  affected  with  a  thing  more  then 
mortall. 

iTellus,  No  comparison  Floscula  f  and  why  so  ?  is  not  ray  beauty 
diuine^  whose  body  is  decked  with  faire  flowers,  and  vaines  are  jo 
Vines,  yeelding  sweet  liquor  to  the  dullest  spirits,  whose  eares  are 
Corne,  to  bring  strength,  and  whose  heares  are  grasse,  to  bring 
abundance?  Doth  not  Frankinsence  &  Myrrhe  breath  out  of  my 
nostrils,  and  all  the  sacrifice  of  the  Gods  breede  in  my  bowels? 
Infinite  are  my  creatures,  without  which  neyther  thou,  nor  Enditnton^  15 
\  nor  any  could  loue,  or  Hue. 

J*Io5C.  But  know  you  not  fayre  Ladie,  that  Cynthia  gouemeth  aU 
things?  Your  grapes  woulde  be  but  drie  huskes,  your  Come  but 
chaffe,  and  all  your  vertues  vaine,  were  it  not  Cynthia  that  preserueth 
the  one  in  the  bud,  and  nourisheth  the  other  in  the  blade,  and  by  30 
her  influence  both  comforteth  all  things,  and  by  her  authoritie  com- 
maundeth  all  creatures.  Sufler  then  Endimion  to  followe  his  affec- 
tions, though  to  obtaine  her  be  impossible,  and  let  him  flatter  himselfe 
in  his  owne  imaginations,  because  they  are  immortall. 

Tellus,   Loth  I  am  Endimion  thou  shouldest  die,  because  I  loue  35 
thee  well;  and  that  thou  shouldest  Hue  it  greeueth  mee,  because 
thou  louest  Cynthia  too  well.     In  these  extremities  what  shall  I 
doe?    Floscula  no  more  words,  I  am  resolued.     He  shall  neyther 
Hue,  nor  die. 

Flosc.  A  strange  practise,  if  it  be  possible.  40 

Tellus,  Yes,  I  will  entangle  him  in  such  a  sweet  nette,  that  he 
shall  neither  find  the  meanes  to  come  out,  nor  desire  it.  All  allure- 
ments of  pleasure  will  I  cast  before  his  eyes,  insomuch  that  he  shall 
slake  that  loue  which  he  now  voweth  to  Cynthia,  and  burne  in  mine, 
of  which  he  seemeth  carelesse.  In  thys  languishing,  betweene  my  45 
amorous  deuises,  and  his  owne  loose  desires,  there  shall  such  dissolute 
thoughts  take  roote  in  his  head,  and  ouer  his  hart  grow  so  thicke 
a  skinne,  that  neither  hope  of  preferment,  nor  feare  of  punishment, 
nor  counsel  of  the  wisest,  nor  company  of  the  worthiest,  shall  alter 
his  humor,  nor  make  him  once  to  thinke  of  his  honor.  50 

Elosc.  A  reuenge  incredible,  and  if  it  may  be,  vnnaturall. 
Tellus,  Hee  shall  knowe  the  mallice  of  a  woman,  to  haue  neither 

ax  fprits  Q  36  thou  om,  F,  but  not  Bl,  as  F,  supposes      -     38  resoWed 

heZ?f/. 


sc.  ii]  ENDIMION  2S 

meane,  nor  ende ;  and  of  a  woman  deluded  in  loue,  to  haue  neither 

rule,  nor  reason.     I  can  doe  it,  I  must,  I  will !    All  his  vertues  will 

55  I  shadow  with  vices;  his  person  (ah  sweet  person)  shall  he  decke 

with  such  rich  Roabes,  as  he  shall  forget  it  is  his  owne  person ;  his 

sharp  wit  (ah  wit  too  sharpe,  that  hath  cut  off  all  my  ioyes)  shall  hee 

vse,  in  flattering  of  my  face,  and  deuising  Sonnets  in  my  fauour. 

The  prime  of  his  youth  and  pride  of  his  time,  shall  be  spent  in 

60  melancholy  passions,  carelesse  behauiour,  vntamed  thoughts,  and 

vnbridled  aflections. 

J^sc.  When  thys  is  done  what  then?  shall  it  continue  tyll  hys 

death,  or  shall  he  doate  for  euer  in  this  delight  ? 

Tellus,   Ah  JFIoscula^  thou  rendest  my  hart  in  sunder,  in  putting 

65  me  in  remembrance  of  the  end. 

FIosc,  Why  if  this  be  not  the  end,  all  the  rest  is  to  no  ende. 

T^ilus,  Yet  suffer  mee  to  imitate  lunOy  who  woulde  tume  lupiters 

louers  to  beastes  on  the  earth,  though  she  knew  afterwards  they 

should  be  starres  in  heauen. 

70      Flosc,   Affection  that  is  bred  by  enchauntment,  is  like  a  flower  that 

is  wrought  in  silke,  in  colour  and  forme  most  like,  but  nothing  at  all 

in  substance  or  sauour. 

Tellus.  It  shall  suffice  me  if  the  world  talke  that  I  am  fauoured  of 

£ndimion, 

75      J*losc.  Well,  vse  your  owne  wyll;   but  you  shal  finde  that  loue 

gotten  with  witch-craft  is  as  vnpleasant,  as  flsh  taken  with  medicines 

vnwholsome. 

Tellus.  jFloscula,  they  that  be  so  poore  that  they  haue  neyther 

nette  nor  hooke,  will  rather  poyson  dowe  then  pyne  with  hunger:    ii 

80  and  she  that  is  so  opprest  with  loue,  that  shee  is  neyther  able  with 

beauty  nor  wit  to  obtaine  her  freende,  wyll  rather  vse  vnlawfull 

meanes,  then  try  vntollerable  paines.    I  will  doe  it. 

Exit 

JFhsc.  Then  about  it.    JPoore  Endimion^  what  traps  are  layde  for 

thee,  because  thou  honourest  one  that  all  the  world  wondreth  at. 

^5  And  what  plots  are  cast  to  make  thee  vnfortunate,  that  studiest  of  all 

men  to  be  the  faithfuUest.  Exit 

59-^1  The  .  . .  affections  itcU.  BL  except  shall  be  and  melancholy  passions 
75-82  loue  . . .  paines  i/o/.  BL  79  dowe]  dough  DiL  Bak. 


/^    '> 


/''- 


^V/w--^-'^ 


26  ENDIMION  [act  i 

SCiCNA  Tertia.— <7%^  same,) 
Dares,  Samias,  Sir  Tophas,  Epiton. 

{Enter  Dares  and  Samias.) 

Dares.  Now  our  Maisters  are  in  loue  vp  to  the  eares,  what  haue 
wee  to  doe  but  to  be  in  knauery  vp  to  the  crownes  ? 

Samias,  O  that  we  had  Sir  Tophas^  that  braue  Squire,  in  the  midst 
of  our  myrth,  &*  ecce  autem,  wyl  you  see  the  deuill  ? 

Enter  Sir  TophaS  {and  Epiton). 
Top,  Epi!  5 

Epi,  Heere  syr. 
T^.^^  Top.   I  brooke  not  thys  idle  humor  of  loue,  it  tickleth  not  my 

lyuer,  from  whence  the  Loue-mongers  in  former  age  seemed   to 
inferre  they  should  proceede. 

*  EpL   Loue,  sir,  may  lye  in  your  lunges,  and  I  thinke  it  doth,  10 
and  that  is  the  cause  you  blow,  and  are  so  pursie. 

Top.  Tush  boy !  I  thinke  it  but  some  deuise  of  the  Poet  to  get 
money. 

Epi.  A  Poet  ?  whats  that  ? 

Top.   Doost  thou  not  know  what  a  Poet  is  ?  15 

Epi.   No. 

Top.  Why  foole,  a  Poet  is  as  much  as  one  shoulde  say,  a  Poet. 
{Perceiving  Dar.  and  Sam.)  But  soft,  yonder  be  two  Wrennes,  shall 
I  shoote  at  them  ? 

Epi.   They  are  two  lads.  ao 

Top.   Larkes  or  wrennes,  I  will  kill  them. 

Epi.   Larkes !  are  you  blinde  ?  they  are  two  lyttle  Boyes. 

Top.  Byrdes,  or  boyes,  they  are  both  but  a  pittance  for  my 
breakefast,  therefore  haue  at  them,  for  theyr  braines  must  as  it  were 
imbroder  my  bolts.  25 

Sam,  Stay  your  courage  valiant  Knight,  for  your  wisdome  is  so 
weane  that  it  stayeth  it  selfe. 

Dar.  Why  Syr  Tophas  haue  you  forgotten  your  olde  freendes  ? 

Top,    Freendes  ?    Nego  argumentum. 

Sam.   And  why  not  freends  ?  30 

Top.   Because  Amicitia  (as  in  old  Annuals  we  find)  is  inter  pares  : 

I  our]  are  F,  s.  D.  [and  Epiton]  supplied  Dil,  9  they]  it  Dil,  Bak, 

18  [Perceiving  &c.]  supplied  Bak.  31  Annals  Bl.  mods. 


sc.  Ill]  ENDIMION  27 

now  my  pretty  companions,  you  shall  see  how  vnequall  you  be  to 
mee  :  but  I  will  not  cut  you  quite  off,  you  shall  be  my  halfe  friendes ; 
for  reaching  to  my  middle^  so  farre  as  from  the  ground  to  the  wast 
35  I  wil  be  your  freend. 

Dar.  Learnedly.  But  what  shall  become  of  the  rest  of  your 
bodie,  from  the  wast  to  the  crowne  ? 

Top.   My  children  quod  supra  vos  nikii  ad  vos,  you  must  thinke 
the  rest  immortall,  because  you  cannot  reach  it 
40      JSpi\   Nay  I  tell  ye  my  Maister  is  more  then  a  man. 
I>ar,  And  thou  lesse  then  a  mouse. 
Top,   But  what  be  you  two  ? 
Sam.   I  am  Samias^  page  to  Eumenides. 
Dar,  And  I  Dares^  page  to  Endtmion. 
45      Top,  Of  what  occupation  are  your  Masters  ? 

Dar.  Occupation,  you  clowne,  why  they  are  honourable,  and 
warriers. 

Top.  Then  are  they  my  prentises. 
Dar,  Thine,  and  why  so  ? 
50      Top.   I  was  the  first  that  euer  deuised  warre,  and  therefore  by 
Mars  himselfe  giuen  me  for  my  Armes  a  whole  Armorie,  and  thus 
I  goe  as  you  see,  clothed  with  Artillary ;  it  is  not  Silkes  (milksops) 
nor  Tyssues,  nor  the  fine  wooU  of  Seres^  but  yron,  Steele,  swords, 
flame,  shot,  terror,  clamor,  blood,  and  ruine,  that  rocks  a  sleepe  my 
55  thoughts,  which  neuer  had  any  other  cradle  but  crueltie.    Let  me 
see,  doe  you  not  bleede  ? 
Dar.   Why  so  ? 

Top.  Commonly  my  words  wound. 
Sam,  \Vhat  then  doe  your  blowes? 
60      Top.   Not  onely  wound^  but  also  confound. 

Sam.  Howe  darst  thou  come  so  neere  thy  Maister  Epil  Syr 
TophcLS  spare  vs. 

Top.  You  shall  liue.    You  Samias  because  you  are  little;   you 
Darts^  because  you  are  no  bigger ;  and  both  of  you,  because  you 
65  are  but  two ;  for  commonly  I  kil  by  the  dosen,  and  haue  for  euerie 
particular  aduersarie,  a  peculiar  weapon. 

33-4  frieodes ;  F. :  semicolon  transferred  to  middle  Dil,  Bak.  perhaps  rightly : 
comma  at  both  Q  Bl.  36  But  om.  Dil,  43-4  Samias,  page  to  Eumenides  &c.] 
cUlprtv.  eds.  transpose  the  names  Eumenides  and  Endimion.  See  note  on  Dram. 
l^cn,  51  was  be/ore  given  JJii. :  had  before  given  F.  Bak,  53  nor*]  not 

DiL  Seres]  Ceres  all  eds.  54  rock  DiL  Bak,  60  wound  . . . 

confoiiiid  F.  Bak. :  confoimd  . .  .  confoand  Q  Bl. :  coofoond  .  • .  contimd  DU. 


( 


Y 


28  ENDIMION  [act  i 

Sam.  May  we  know  the  vse  for  our  better  skyll  in  warre  ? 

Top.  You  shall.  Heere  is  a  burbolt  for  the  vglie  beast  the 
Black-bird. 

Dor.   A  cruell  sight.  7® 

Top.  Heere  is  the  Muskit,  for  the  vntamed  (or  as  the  vulgar  Sort 
terme  it)  the  wilde  Mallard. 

Sam.   O  desperate  attempt ! 

EpL   Nay  my  Maister  will  match  them. 

Dar.   I  if  he  catch  them.  75 

Top.  Heere  is  a  speare  and  shielde,  and  both  necessarie,  the  one 
to  conquer,  the  other  to  subdue  or  ouercome  the  terrible  Trowte, 
which  although  he  be  vnder  the  water,  yet  tying  a  string  to  the  top 
of  my  speare  and  an  engine  of  yron  to  the  ende  of  my  lyne,  I  ouer- 
throwe  him ;  and  then  heerein  I  put  him.  80 

Sam.  O  wonderfuU  warre !  {Aside.")  Dares^  didst  thou  euer  heare 
such  a  dolt  ? 

Dar.  {aside).  All  the  better,  we  shall  haue  good  sport  hereafter, 
if  we  can  get  leysure. 

Sam.  {aside).  Leysure !  I  will  rather  loose  my  Maisters  seruice  85 
then  his  companie  1  looke  howe  he  stroutes  ! — But  what  is  this,  call 
you  it  your  sword  ? 

Top.  No,  it  is  my  Simiter ;  which  I  by  construction  often  studying 
to  bee  compendious,  call  my  Smyter. 

Dar.   What,  are  you  also  learned,  sir?  9^ 

,   Top.  Learned  ?    I  am  all  Mars  and  Ars, 
!   Sam.   Nay,  you  are  all  Masse  and  Asse. 

Top.  Mock  you  mee?    You  shall  both  suffer,  yet  with  such 
.  weapons,  as  you  shall  make  choise  of  the  weapon  wherewith  you 
shall  perrish.    Am  I  all  a  masse  or  lumpe,  is  there  no  proportion  in  95 
me  ?    Am  I  all  Asse  ?  is  there  no  wit  in  mee  ?    JSpi,  prepare  th6 
to  the  slaughter. 

Sam.    I  pray  sir  heare  vs  speake !   we  call  you  Masse,  which  your 
learning  doth  well  vnderstande  is  all  Man,  for  Mas  maris  is  a  man. 
Then  As  (as  you  knowe)  is  a  weight,  and  we  for  your  vertues  account  100 
you  a  weight. 

Top.  The  Latine  hath  saued  your  lyues,  the  which  a  world  of 
siluer  could  not  haue  ransomde.  I  vnderstand  you,  and  pardon 
you. 

68  bird-bolt  Bi.  mods.  s.  D.  [Aside]  the  asides  first  marked  in  Bak.        86 

ttrowtes  Bi. :  stmts  Dil.  Bak.  ^  weapons  so  ail.    See  note 


sciii]  ENDIMION  29 

05  Dar.  Well  Sir  Tophas  we  bid  you  farewell,  &  at  our  next  meeting 
we  will  be  readie  to  doe  you  seruice. 

Top,  Samias  I  thanke  you,  Dares  I  thanke  you,  but  especiallie 
I  thanke  you  both. 
Sam,  {astde}.  Wiselie.    Come,  next  time  weele  haue  some  prettie 
10  Gentle-women  with  vs  to  walke,  for  without  doubt  with  them  he  will 
be  verie  daintie. 
JDar.  Come  let  vs  see  what  our  Maisters  doe,  it  is  high  time. 

JSxeunf* 
Top,  Now  will  I  march  into  the  fielde,  where  if  I  cannot  en-    . 
counter  with  my  foule  enemies,  I  will  withdraw  my  selfe  to  the    ^ 
'I5  Riuer,  &  there  fortifie  for  fish:  for  there  resteth  no  minute  free  from 
fight.  Exit, 

S(c)iENA  QuARTA. — {The  Same,") 

(^Enter^  at  one  side^)  Tellus,' Floscula,  (a/  the  other)  Dipsas. 

Teiius.  Behold  Fbscula^  we  haue  met  with  the  Woman  by  chaunce 
that  wee  sought  for  by  trauell;  I  will  breake  my  minde  to  her 
without  ceremonie  or  circumstance,  least  we  loose  that  time  in  aduise 
that  should  be  spent  in  execution.  / 

5      Fbsc,   Vse  your  discretion ;  I  will  in  this  case  neither  give  counsell  ^   ^ 
nor  consent,  for  there  cannot  bee  a  thing  more  monstrous  then  to 
force  affection  by  sorcery,  neither  doe  I  imagin  anie  thing  more 
impossible. 

Tellus,  Tush  Ftoscula^  in  obtaining  of  loue  what  impossibilities 

10  will  I  not  try  ?  and  for  the  winning  of  Endimion,  what  impieties  will 
I  not  practise  ?  Dipsas^  whom  as  many  honour  for  age  as  wonder 
at  for  cunning,  listen  in  few  words  to  my  tale,  &  answere  in  one  word 
to  the  purpose,  for  that  neither  my  burning  desire  can  afforde  long 
speech,  nor  the  short  time  I  haue  to  stay  manie  delayes.     Is  it 

15  possible  by  hearbes,  stones,  spels,  incantation,  enchauntment,  exor- 
cismes,  fire,  mettals,  plannets,  or  any  practise,  to  plant  affection 
where  it  is  not,  and  to  supplant  it  where  it  is? 

Dipsas.  Faire  Ladie,  you  may  imagin  that  these  horie  heares  are 
not  void  of  experience,  nor  the  great  name  that  goeth  of  my  cunning 

30  to  bee  without  cause.  1  can  darken  the  Sunne  by  my  skil,  and 
remooue  the  Moone  out  of  her  course ;  I  can  restore  youth  to  the 

s.  D.  [Enter  &c.]  so  first  in  Bak,  a-3  I  wiU  .  . .  circumstance  and  {below)  I 

wiU  •  . .  nor  consent  itcU,  Bl.         15  incantantation  Q  15-6  exorcism,  fire, 

metal,  Dil, 


Of' 


1.  ^■<'* 


J 


30  ENDIMION  [act  i,  sc  nr 

aged^  and  make  hils  without  bottoms ;  there  is  nothing  that  I  can 
not  doe^  but  that  onely  which  you  would  haue  me  doe ;  and  therin 
I  differ  from  the  Gods,  that  I  am  not  able  to  rule  harts ;  for  were  it 
in  my  power  to  place  affection  by  appointment,  I  would  make  such  aS 
euill  appetites,  such  inordinate  lusts,  such  cursed  desires,  as  all  the 
worlde  should  be  filled  both  with  supersticious  heates,  and  extreame 
loue. 

Teiius.  Vnhappie  TelluSy  whose  desires  are  so  desperate,  that  they 
are  neither  to  be  conceiued  of  any  creature,  nor  to  be  cured  by  any  3o 
arte. 

Dipsas,  This  I  can, — breede  slacknes  in  loue,  though  neuer 
roote  it  out.  What  is  he  whom  you  loue,  &  what  she  that  he 
honoureth  ? 

Teiius,  Endimion,  sweet  Endimion  is  he  that  hath  my  hart ;  and  35 
Cynthia  J  too  too  faire  Cynthia^  the  myracle  of  Nature,  of  tyme,  of 
Fortune,  is  the  Ladie  that  hee  deliglites  in,  and  dotes  on  euery  day, 
and  dies  for  ten  thousand  times  a  day. 

Dipsas,  Would  you  haue  his  loue,  eyther  by  absence  or  sicknes 
aslaked  ?    Would  you  that   Cynthia  should  mistrust  him,  or  be  40 
iealous  of  him  without  colour? 

Tellus.  It_i§_the  onelie  thing  I  craue,  that  seeing  my  loue  to 
Endimion  vnspotted,  cannot  be  accepted,  hys  truth  to  Cynthia 
(though  it  be  vnspeakeable)  may  bee  suspected. 

Dipsas,   I  will  vndertake  it,  and  ouertake  him,  that  all  his  loue  45 
shal  be  doubted  of,  and  therefore  become  desperate :  but  this  will 
weare  out  with  time,  that  treadeth  all  things  downe  but  trueth. 

Teiius,   Let  vs  goe.  "^--^ 

Dipsas,   I  follow.  Exeuni. 


ACTUS  SECUNDUS 

SCiENA  Prima. — {Gardens  of  the  Palace^  as  before,) 

Endimion.    Tellus. 

{Enter  Endimion.) 

End,  r^  Fayre  Cynthia  I  6   vnfortunate  Endimion!     Why  was 

^^^     not  thy  byrth  as  high  as  thy  thoughts,  or  her  beautie 

lesse  then  heauenlie  ?  or  why  are  not  thyne  honors  as  rare  as  her 

47  time, ...  but  trueth  italics  Bl,  except  thtt 


ACT  11,  sc.  i]  ENDIMION  31 

beautie?  or  thy  fortunes  as  great  as  thy  deserts?  Sweet  Cynthia^ 
5  how  wouldst  thou  be  pleased^  how  possessed  ?  wil  labours  (patient 
of  all  extremities)  obtaine  thy  loue  ?  There  is  no  Mountain  so 
steepe  that  I  will  not  climbe,  no  monster  so  cruell  that  I  will  not 
tame,  no  action  so  desperate  that  I  will  not  attempt.  Desirest  thou 
the  passions  of  loue,  the  sad  and  melancholic  moodes  of  perplexed 

10  mindes,  the  not  to  be  expressed  torments  of  racked  thoughts  ? 
Beholde  my  sad  teares,  my  deepe  sighes,  my  hollowe  eyes,  my  broken 
sleepes,  my  heauie  countenaunce.  Wouldst  thou  haue  mee  vowde 
onelie  to  thy  beautie  ?  and  consume  euerie  minute  of  time  in  thy 
seruice  ?  remember  my  solitarie  life,  almost  these  seauen  yeeres : 

15  whom  haue  I  entertained  but  mine  owne  thoughts,  and  thy  vertues  ? 
What  companie  haue  I  vsed  but  contemplation?  Whom  haue 
I  wondred  at  but  thee?  Nay  whom  haue  I  not  contemned,  for 
thee  ?  Haue  I  not  crept  to  those  on  whom  I  might  haue  troden, 
onelie  because  thou  didst  shine  vpon  them?     Haue  not  iniuries 

30  beene  sweet  to  mee,  if  thou  vouchsafedst  I  should  beare  them  ? 
Haue  I  not  spent  my  golden  yeeres  in  hopes,  waxing  old  with 
wishing,  yet  wishing  nothing  but  thy  loue.  With  Tellus^  faire  TelluSy 
haue  I  dissembled,  vsing  her  but  as  a  cloake  for  mine  affections,  that 
others  seeing  my  mangled  and  disordered  minde,  might  thinke  it 

35  were  for  one  that  loueth  me,  not  for  Cynthia^  whose  perfection 
alloweth  no  companion,  nor  comparison. 

In  the  midst  of  these  distempreii  thoughts  of  myne  thou  art  not 
onelie  iealous  of  my  truth,  but,careles,  suspicious,  and  secure: 
which  strange  humor  maketh  my  minde'  as  desperate  as  thy  conceits 

30  are  doubtfull.  I  am  none  of  those  m)lueSi  that  barke  most  when 
thou  shynest  brightest ;  but  that  fish  (thy  ^^  Cynthia  in  the  floode 
Araris)  which  at  thy  waxing  is  as  white  as  the  driuen  snowe,  and  at 
thy  wayning,  as  blacke  as  deepest  darknes.  I  am  that  Endimion 
(sweet  Cynthia)  that  haue  carryed  my  thoughts  in  equall  ballance 

35  with  my  actions,  being  alwaies  as  free  from  imagining  ill,  as  enter- 
prysing;  that  Endimion^  whose  eyes  neuer  esteemed  anie  thing 
faire  but  thy  face,  whose  tongue  termed  nothing  rare  but  thy  vertues, 
and  whose  hart  imagined  nothing  miraculous  but  thy  gouernment. 
Yea,  that  Endimion^  who  diuorsing  himselfe  from  the  amiablenes  of 

40  all  Ladies,  the  brauerie  of  all  Courts,  the  companie  of  al  men,  hath 

4  thy]  her  Dil.  perhaps  rightly        7  monseer  F,       30  vouchsafedst  Dil.  Bak,  : 
▼OQchsalest  Q  Bl.  F.  33  affection  DiL  31  brightest ;  but  DiL  Bak. : 

brightest.    But  Q  BL  /*.  33  Araris  Bak, :  Aranis  all  preceding  eds. 


'I 


32  ENDIMION  [act  ii' 

chosen  in  a  solitarie  Cell  to  liue,  onely  by  feeding  on  thy  fauour, 
accounting  in  the  worlde  (but  thy  selfe)  nothing  excellent,  nothing 
immortall;  thus  maist  thou  see  euerie  vainei  sinew,  muscle^^nd 
artery  of  my  loue,  in  which  there  is  no  flatterie,  nor  deceipt,  error, 
nor  arte.  But  soft,  here  commeth  TelluSy  I  must  tume  my  other  45 
face  to  her  like  lanus,  least  she  be  as  suspicious  ^s/uno. 

Enter  Tellus  (,  Floscula  and  Di^ks  following'). 

Tellus,  Yonder  I  espie  Endimion^  I  will  seeme  to  suspect  nothing, 
but  sooth  him,  that  seeing  I  cannot  obtaine  the  depth  of  his  loue, 
I  may  leame  the  height  of  his  dissembling.  Floscula  and  Dipsas^ 
with-drawe  your  selues  out  of  our  sight,  yet  be  within  the  hearing  50 
of  our  saluting. — How  now  Endimion^  alwaies  solitary  ?  no  com- 
panie  but  your  owne  thoughts  ?  no  freende  but  melancholic  fancies  ? 

End,   You  know  (fayre  Tellus)  that  the  sweet  remembrance  of 
your  loue,  is  the  onely  companion  of  my  life,  and  thy  presence,  my 
paradise :  so  that  I  am  not  alone  when  no  bodie  is  with  mee,  and  55 
in  heauen  it  selfe  when  thou  art  with  me. 

Tellus.  Then  you  loue  me  Endimion. 

End.   Or  els  I  liue  not  Tellus. 

Tellus.   Is  it  not  possible  for  you  Endimion^  to  dissemble  ? 

End.   Not,  Tellus^  vnlesse  I  could  make  me  a  woman.  60 

Tellus.  Why,  is  dissembling  ioyned  to  theyr  sex  inseparable  ?  as 
heate  to  fire,  heauines  to  earth,  moysture  to  water,  thinnesse  to  ayre  ? 

End.  No,  but  founde  in  their  sex,  as  common  as  spots  vpon 
Doues,  moles  vpon  faces,  Caterpillers  vpon  sweet  apples,  cobwebs 
vpon  faire  windowes.  5^ 

Tellus.   Doe  they  all  dissemble  ? 

End,   All  but  one. 

Tellus.   Who  is  that? 

End.   I  dare  not  tell.     For  if  I  shoulde  say  you,  then  would  you 
imagin  my  flattery  to  be  extreame ;  if  another^  then  woulde  you  thinke  ^o 
my  loue  to  be  but  indiflferent. 

Tellus.  You  will  be  sure  I  shall  take  no  vantage  of  your  words. 
But  in  sooth  Endimion,  without  more  ceremonies,  is  it  not 
Cynthia  ? 

s.  D.  [Flosc.  .  . .  foUowing]  supplied  DiU  4S-9  obtaine  . .  .  dissembling;, 

and^  below ^  How  now  . .  .  fancies,  and  Tellus"  next  speech  but  one  are  italieited  in 
Blount^  as  well  as  many  others  in  this  scene.  Since  these  frequent  italicizatums 
sum  merely  due  to  underlinings  by  some  reader  in  the  Q  copy  from  which  the 
compositor  was  printings  I  report  no  more  61  inseparably />fV.  72  advantage 
Dit.  73  oatmony  Dil. 


/" 
A 


sc  i]  ENDIMION  33 

^5      End,  You  know  TelluSy  that  of  the  Gods  we  are  forbidden  to 
dispute,  because  theyr  dieties  come  not  within  the  compasse  of  our 
reasons ;  and  of  Cynthia  we  are  allowed  not  to  talke  but  to  wondo", 
because  her  vertues  are  not  within  the  reach  of  our  capacities. 
Teibis,   Why,  she  is  but  a  woman. 
80  I    End.   No  more  was  Venus.     ? 
Telhis.    Shee  is  but  a  virgin^ 
»   End.   No  more  was  Vesta.       ^  * 
Telhis.   Shee  shall  haue  an  ende. 
End.   So  shall  the  world. 
^5      Tellus.   Is  not  her  beautie  subiect  to  time  ? 
End.   No  more  then  time  is  to  standing  still. 
Tellus.   Wilt  thou  make  her  immortall  ? 
End.   No,  but  incomparable. 
^  Tellus.   Take  heede  Endimian^  lest  like  the  Wrastler  in  Olimpia, 
90  that  striuing  to  lifte  an  impossible  weight  catcht  an  incurable  straine, 
thou  by  fixing  thy  thoughts  aboue  thy  reach,  fal  into  a  disease  without 
al  recure !     But  I  see  thou  art  now  in  loue  with  Cynthia. 

End.  No  Tellus 'y  thou  knowest  that  the  statelie  Cedar,  whose 
toppe  reacheth  vnto  the  clowdes^  neuer  boweth  his  head  to  the 
95  shrubs  that  growe  in  the  valley;  nor  luie  that  climeth  vp  by  the 
Elme,  can  euer  get  hold  of  the  beames  of  the  Sunne:  Cynthia 
I  honour  in  all  humilitie,  whom  none  ought,  or  dare  aduenture  to 
loue,  whose  affections  are  immortall,  &  vertues  infinite.  Suffer  me 
therefore  to  gaze  on  the  Moone,  at  whom,  were  it  not  for  thy  selfe, 
100  I  would  die  with  wondering.  Exeunt. 


SCiENA  Secunda. — {The  same.} 

{Enter}  Dares,  Samias,  Scintilla^  Fauilla. 

Dar.  Come,  Samias^  diddest  thou  euer  heare  such  a  sighing, 
the  one  for  Cynthia^  the  other  for  Semele^  &  both  for  moone  shine 
in  the  water? 

Sam.   Let  them  sigh,  and  let  vs  sing :  how  say  you  gentlewomen, 
5  are  not  our  Masters  too  farre  in  loue? 

Scint.   Their  tongues  happily  are  dipt  to  the  roote  in  amorous      ■; 
words  and  sweete  discourses,  but  I  thinke  their  hearts  are  scarce  tipt 
on  the  side  with  constant  desires. 

76  deities  BL  rest  6  haply  Bak. 

m  D 


^ 


• 


#■» 


34  ENDIMION  [actii 

Dar,    How  say  you  Fauilla,  is  not  loue  a  lurcher,  that  taketh 
mens  stomacks  away  that  they  cannot  eate,  their  spleene  that  they  lo 
cannot  laugh,  their  harts  that  they  cannot  fight,  the3rr  eyes  that 
they  cannot  sleepe,  and  leaueth  nothing  but  lyuers  to  make  nothing 
but  Louers  ? 

FaviL   Away  peeuish  boy,  a  rodde  were  better  vnder  thy  girdle, 
than  loue  in  thy  mouth :  it  will  be  a  forward  Cocke  that  croweth  in  '5 
the  shell. 

Dar,  Alas !  good  olde  gentlewoman,  how  it  becommeth  you  to  be 
graue. 

Scint,   Fauilla  though  she  be  but  a  sparke,  yet  is  shee  fyre. 

FaviL   And  you  Scintilla  bee  not  much  more  then   a  sparke,  '<» 
though  you  would  be  esteemed  a  flame. 

Sam,  {aside  to  Dares).  It  were  good  sport  to  see  the  fight  betweene 
two  sparkes. 

Dar.  {aside  to  Sam.).  Let  them  to  it,  and  wee  will  warme  vs  by 
theyr  words.  ^5 

Scint   You  are  not  angry  Fauilla  ? 

FaviL   That  is.  Scintilla^  as  you  list  to  take  it 

Sam,  {to  Scintilla).   That !  that  I 

Scint,    This  it  is  to  be  matched  with  girles,  who  comming  but 
yesterday  from   making   of  babies,  would   before    tomorrowe  be  y^ 
accounted  Matrons. 

FaviL  I  crye  your  Matronship  mercy;  because  your  Pantables 
bee  higher  with  corke,  therefore  your  feete  must  needs  be  higher  in 
the  insteppes :  you  will  be  mine  elder,  because  you  stande  vppon 
a  stoole,  and  I  on  the  floore.  55 

Sam,  {aside).   Good,  good. 

Dar,  {to  Sam.).  Let  them  alone,  and  see  with  what  countenance 
they  will  become  friendes. 

Scint,  Nay,  you  thinke  to  bee  the  wyser,  because  you  meane  to 
haue  the  last  worde.  40 

Sam,  Step  betweene  them  least  they  scratch. — In  faith  gentle- 
women, seeing  wee  came  out  to  bee  merry,  let  not  your  iarring  marre 
our  iestes :  be  friendes,  how  say  you  ? 

Scint,  I  am  not  angry,  but  it  spited  mee  to  see  howe  short  she 
was.  45 

FaviL   I  ment  nothing,  till  she  would  needs  crosse  me. 

33  Sam.  [aside  &c.]  tke  asides  first  marked  by  Baker  3a  Pantables  so 

all  35  floore]  flowre  Q  37  alone]  lone  BL  mods. 


sc  ii]  ENDIMION  35 

Dor.   Then  so  let  it  rest. 
Sdnt   I  am  agreede. 

FaviL  And  I,  yet  I  neuer  tooke  anything  so  vnkindly  in  my  life. 

iWeeps.) 
50     Sdnt   Tys  I  baue  the  cause,  that  neuer  offered  the  occasion. 

(.Weeps,) 
Dor,   Excellent,  and  right  like  a  woman. 
Sam.   A  strange  sight  to  see  water  come  out  of  fire. 
Dar.    It  is  their  propertie  to  carrie,  in  their  eyes,  fire  ^nd  water, 
teares  and  torches,  and  in  their  mouthes,  honie  and  galL 
55      Sdnt   You  will  be  a  good  one  if  you  liue>  but  what  is  yonder 
formall  fellowe? 

Enter  Sir  Tophas  <,  Epiton  following), 

Dar,   Sir  Tophas^  syr  Tophas  of  whom  we  tolde  you :  if  you  bee  , 
good  wenches  make  as  though  you  loue  him,  and  wonder  at  him. 
FaviL   Wee  will  doo  our  parts. 
60     Dar.   But  first  let  vs  stand  ^ide,  and  let  him  vse  his  garbe,  for  all 
consisteth  in  his  gracing.  (  The  four  retire. ) 

Top.   Epi! 
Epi.    At  hand,  syr. 

Top.   How  likest  thou  this  Martiall  life,  where  nothing  but  bloud 
65  besprinkleth  our  bosomes?    Let  me  see,  be  our  enemies  fatte? 

Epi.  Passing  fat :  and  I  would  not  chaunge  this  life  to  be  a  Lord ; 
and  your  selfe  passeth  all  comparison,  for  other  Captaines  kill  and 
beate,  and  there  is  nothing  you  kill,  but  you  also  eate. 

Top.    I  will  drawe  out  their  guttes  out  of  their  bellies,  and  teare 
70  the  flesh  with  my  teeth,  so  mortall  is  my  hate,  and  so  eger  my 
unstaunched  stomacke. 

Epi.  (aside  to  the  ladies).  My  master  thinkes  himselfe  the  valiantest 
man  in  the  world  if  hee  kill  a  wren:  so  warlike  a  thing  he 
accompteth  to  take  away  life,  though  it  be  from  a  Larke. 
75  Top.  Epi^  I  finde  my  thoughtes  to  swell,  and  my  spirite  to  take 
winges,  in  so  much  that  I  cannot  continue  within  the  compas  of  so 
slender  combates. 

FaviL   This  passeth  !  \ 

Sdnt.   Why,  is  he  not  madde?  \  (.Adde.) 

80      Sam.    No,  but  a  little  vaine  glorious.  ) 

s.  D.  [Weeps]  (Jbis)  supplied  B ok.  after  Dilke's  note  s,  D.  [Epiton  follow- 

ing] supplied  Dil.  s.  D.  [The  four  retire]  supplied  B ok.  7  a  s.  D.  [Aside] 

supplied  Dil.  74  it  after  acconnteth  Dtl.  79  Why  is  Q 

D  2 


36  ENDIMION  [actii 

Top.    Epit 

Epu   Syr. 

Top,   I  will  encounter  that  blacke  and  cruell  enemie  that  beareth 
rough  and  vntewed  lockes  vpon  his  bodie,  whose  Syre  throweth 
downe  the  strongest  walles,  whose  legs  are  as  many  as  both  ours,  on  85 
whose  head  are  placed  most  horrible  homes  by  nature,  as  a  defence 
from  all  harmes. 

EpL   What  meane  you,  Master,  to  be  so  desperate? 

Top,   Honour  inciteth  mec,  and  very  hunger  compelleth  mee. 

EpL   What  is  that  monster  ?  9^ 

Top,    The  Monster  Outs,     I  haue  saide, — ^let  thy  wits  worke. 

EpL    I  cannot  imagin  it;  yet  let  me  see,— a  black  enemie  with 
rough  lockes — it  may  be  a  sheep,  and  Ouis  is  a  sheep :  his  Sjrre  so 
strong — a  Ram  is  a  sheepes  Sire,  that  beeing  also  an  engine  of  war : 
homes  he  hath,  and  foure  legs, — so  hath  a  sheepe :  without  doubt  this  95 
monster  is  a  blacke  sheepe.     Is  it  not  a  sheepe  that  you  meane  ? 

Top,   Thou  hast  hit  it,  that  Monster  will  I  kill  and  sup  with. 

Sam,    Come  let  vs  take  him  off.     (^Advancing.)     Syr  Tophas^  all 
haile. 

Top,   Welcome  children,  I  seldome  cast  mine  eyes  so  low  as  to  ic 
the  crownes  of  your  heads,  and  therfore  pardon  me  that  I  spake  not 
all  this  while. 

Dar,    No  harme  done :  here  be  faire  Ladies  come  to  wonder  at 
your  person,  your  valour,  your  witte,  the  report  whereof  hath  made 
them  careles  of  their  owne  honours,  to  glut  their  eyes  and  harts  vpon  i< 
yours. 

Top,    Report  cannot  but  iniure  mee,  for  that  not  knowing  fully 
what  I  am,  I  feare  shee  hath  beene  a  niggard  in  her  praises. 

Scint,    No,  gentle  knight.  Report  hath  beene  prodigal;  for  shee 
hath  left  you  no  equall,  nor  her  selfe  credite ;  so  much  hath  she  tolde,  i^ 
yet  no  more  than  we  now  see. 

Dar,  (aside),  A  good  wench. 

Fa^iL   If  there  remaine  as  much  pittie  toward  women  as  there  is 
in  you  courage  against  your  enemies,  th6  shall  we  be  happie,  who 
hearing  of  your  person,  came  to  see  it,  and  seeing  it,  are  now  in  loue  i 
with  it 

Top,  Loue  me.  Ladies  ?  I  easily  beleeue  it,  but  my  tough  heart 
receiueth  no  impression  with  sweet  words.  Mars  may  pearce  it, 
Venus  shall  not  paint  on  it. 

84  YDtewed  so  all  85  will  DiL  113  woman  DU, 


sc.  ii]  ENDIMION  37 

20      FaviL    A  cruell  saying. 

Sam.  {aside^,  Ther*s  a  girle. 

Dor.  Will  you  cast  these  Ladyes  away,  and  all  for  a  little  loue  ? 
doc  but  speake  kindly. 

'    Tap.  There  cdmeth  no  soft  syllable  within  my  lips ;  custome  hath 
25  made  my  wordes  bloudy,  and  my  hart  barbarous :  that  pelting  word 

loue,  how  watrish  it  is  in  my  mouth,  it  carrieth  no  sound ;  hate,      o  0 
horror,  death,  are  speaches  that  nourish  my  spirits.    I  like  hony,  but     " 
I  care  not  for  the  bees  :  I  delight  in  musicke,  but  I  loue  not  to  play 
on  the  bagpipes :  I  can  vouchsafe  to  heare  the  voice  of  women,  but 
30  to  touch  their  bodies  I  disdaine  it,  as  a  thing  childish,  and  fit  for 
such  men  as  can  disgest  nothing  but  milke. 

Sdnt.  A  hard  heart !  shall  wee  dye  for  your  loue,  and  iinde  no 
remedy. 

Top.  I  haue  already  taken  a  surfet. 
35      £/i.   Good  master,  pittie  them. 

Tdfp.  Pittie  them,  jEpif  no  I  do  not  thinke  that  this  breast  shalbe 
pestred  with  such  a  foolish  passion.  What  is  that  the  gentlewoman 
carrieth  in  a  chaine? 

JEpi.   Why  it  is  a  Squirrill. 
40      Top.  A  Squirrill  ?    O  Gods  what  things  are  made  for  money. 
JDar.  (Jo  t?u  Uidies).   Is  not  this  gentleman  ouerwise? 
FaviL  I  could  stay  all  day  with  him,  if  I  feared   not  to  be 
shent 
Sdnt.   Is  it  not  possible  to  meete  againe  ? 
45      Dar.   Yes,  at  any  time. 

FaviL  Then  let  vs  hasten  home. 

Sdnt.  Sir  TopAas,  the  God  of  warre  deale  better  with  you,  than 
you  doe  with  the  God  of  loue. 
FaviL  Our  loue  we   may  dissemble,  disgest  we  cannot;    but 
50  I  doubt  not  but  time  will  hamper  you,  and  helpe  vs. 

Top.  1  defie  time,  who  hath  no  interest  in  my  heart :  come  £pi^ 
let  me  to  the  battaile  with  that  hideous  beast :  loue  is  pappe  and 
hath  no  relish  in  my  taste^  because  it  is  not  terrible. 

{Exeunt  Sir  Tophas  and  Epiton.) 
J?ar.   Indeede  a  blacke  sheepe  is  a  perrilous  beast :  but  let  vs  in 
55  till  another  time. 

FaviL   I  shall  long  for  that  time.  Exeunt. 

124  syllables  Dii.  126  it  is  om,  Bab.  137  gentlewomen  F  141 

geDtlemeo  F.  otherwise  F.  s.  d.  [Exeunt  ftcT)  suppli€d  Bak, 


-   ) 


38  ENDIMION  [act  il 

SCiENA  Tertia. — (^A  Grave.) 

{Enter)  Endimion  :   Dipsas  {and)  Bagoa  {in  the  background). 

End,  No  rest  Endimion  ?  still  vncertaine  how  to  settle  thy  steps 
by  day,  or  thy  thoughts  by  night?  thy  trueth  is  measured  by  thy 
fortune,  and  thou  art  iudged  vnfaithfuU  because  thou  art  vnhappy. 
I  will  see  if  I  can  beguile  my  selfe  with  sleep,  &  if  no  slumber  will 
take  hold  in  my  eyes,  yet  will  I  imbrace  the  golden  thoughts  in  my  5 
head,  and  wish  to  melt  by  musing :  that  as  Ebone,  which  no  fire 
can  scorch,  is  yet  cdsumed  wjfch^sweet  sauours ;  so  my  heart  which 
cannot  bee  bent  \bvth^-'!iardnes  of  fortune,  may  be  brused  by 
amorous  desires.  Uh  yonder  banke  neuer  grewe  any  thing  but 
Lunary,  and  hereafter  I  will  neuer  haue  any  bed  but  that  banke.  lo 
O  Endimion,  Tellus  was  faire,  but  what  auaileth  Beautie  without 
wisedome?  Nay,  Endimion^  she  was  wise,  but  what  auaileth  wis- 
dome  without  honour?  Shee  was  honourable  Endimion,  belfe  her 
not,  I  but  howe  obscure  is  honor  without  fortune?  Was  she  not 
fortunate  whome  so  many  followed?  Yes,  yes,  but  base  is  fortune  15 
without  Maiestie :  thy  Maiestie  Cynthia  al  the  world  knoweth  and 
wondereth  at,  but  not  one  in  the  world  that  can  immitate  it,  or 
comprehend  it.  No  more  Endimion  /  sleepe  or  dye ;  nay  die,  for 
to  sleepe,  it  is  impossible ;  and  yet  I  knowe  not  how  it  commeth  to 
passe^  I  feele  such  a  heauines  both  in  mine  eyes  and  hart,  y^  I  am  20 
sodainly  benummed,  yea  in  euery  ioint :  it  may  be  wearinesse,  for 
when  did  I  rest  ?  it  may  bee  deepe  melancholy,  for  when  did  I  not 
sigh  ?     Cynthia  /  I  so  ;  I  ^^TCynthia  I  Hefalles  a  sleepe, 

Dipsas  {advanang)yL,itt\e  doost  thou  knowe  Endimion  when 
thou  shalt  wake,  foT^adst  thou  placed  thy  heart  as  lowe  in  loue,  25 
as  thy  head  li^i^now  in  sleepe,  thou  mightest  haue  commanded 
Tel/us  whonM^^we  in  stead  of  a  Mistris,  thou  shalt  finde  a  tombe. 
These  eyes  must  I  seale  vp  by  Art,  not  Nature,  which  are  to  be 
opened  neither  by  Art  nor  Nature.  Thou  that  laist  downe  widi 
goldeo,.lockes,  shalt  not  awake  vntill  they  bee  turned  to  siluer  haires ;  30 
^aftd-ithat  chin,  on  which  scarcely  appeareth  soft  downe,  shalbe  filled 
\  withUjoii^sels  as  hard  as  broome :  thou  shalt  sleep  out  thy  youth  and 
flooring  time,  and  become  dry  hay  before  thou  knowest  thy  selfe 
grasse,  &  ready  by  age  to  step  into  the  graue  whe  thou 


[Enter  &c.]  old  eds,  DiL  F,  simply  Endimion,  Dipsas,  Bagoa.  Baker 

^^   W  Dipsas  and  Bagoa  after  Endimion* s  speech  13  believe  Dil,  17 

that  om.  DiL          ai  ioint]  iont  Q          29  Uest  Bak.  30  wake  Bak,  33 
knowest  DiL  Bak, :  knewest  Q  BL  F, 


Sam]  ENDIMION  39 

35  wakest,  tl^at  was  youthfull  in  the  Courte  when  thou  laidst  thee  downe 
to  sleepe.  The  malice  of  Telius  hath  brought  this  to  passe,  which  if 
shee  could  not  haue  intreated  of  mee  by  fayre  meanes,  shee  would 
haue  commaunded  by  menacing,  for  from  h^  gather  wee  all  our 
simples  to  maintaine  our  sorceries.     Fanne  with  this  hemlocke  ouer 

40  his  face^  and  sing  the  inchantmetit  for  sleepe,  whilst  I  goe  in  and 
finish  those  cerimonies  that  are  required  in  our  Art :  take  heede  yee 
touch  not  his  face,  for  the  Fanne  is  so  seasoned  that  who  so  it 
toucheth  with  a  leafe  shall  presently  dye,  and  ouer  whom  the  wind 
of  it  breatheth,  hee  shall  sleepe  for  euer.  Exit, 

45  Bagoa,  Let  me  alone,  I  will  bee  carefuU. — What  happe  hadst  thou 
Endimian  to  come  vnder  the  hands  of  Dipsas  !  O  faire  Enditnion  / 
how  it  grieueth  me  that  that  faire  face  must  be  turned  to  a  withered 
skinne,  &  taste  the  paines  of  death  before  it  feele  the  reward  of 
loue.     I  feare  Telius  will  repent  that  which  the  heauens  themselues 

50  seemed  to  rewe.  But  I  heare  Dipsas  comming ;  I  dare  not  repine, 
least  she  make  me  pine,  and  rocke  me  into  such  a  deepe  sleepe,  that 
I  shall  not  awake  to  my  marriage. 

{R€')Ent€r  Dipsas. 
Dipsas.   How  now,  haue  you  finished  ? 
Bagoa.   Yea. 
55      Dipsas,  Well  then  let  vs  in,  and  see  that  you  doo  not  so  much  as 
whisper  that  I  did  this,  for  if  you  do,  I  will  turne  thy  haires  to  Adders, 
and  all  thy  teeth  in  thy  heade  to  tongues :  come  away,  come  away. 

Exeunt 

A  DUMBE  SHEW  {representing  thc  dream  ^Endimion). 

Musique  sounds. 
Three  La^esjnter ;  one  with  a  Knife  and  a  looking  glasse^  who  by 
the  procurement  of  one  of  the  other  two,  offers  to  stab  endimion  as 
hee  sleepes,  but  the  third  wrings  her  hands,  lamenteth,  offering  still  to 
preuent  it^  but  dares  not. 

At  last,  the  first  Lady  looking  in  the  glasse,  casts  downe  the  Knife, 

Exeunt, 
Enters  an  ancient  man  with  bookes  with  three  leaues,  offers  the  same 
twice,    ENDIMION  refuseth:  hee  rendeth  two  and  offers  the  third, 
where  hee  stands  a  while,  and  then  endimion  offers  to  take  it. 

Exit  {the  Old  Man), 

35  wert  DiL :  wast  Bak,  s.  D.  This  Dumb  Show  first  appears  in  Blount 

rendeth  DU,  Bak. :  readeth  Bl,  F,    Cf.y,i,p,  66,  /.  109         offers  to  take]  takes 
Dil.  [the  Old  Man]  added  Bak, 


40  ENDIMION  [act  in 

ACTUS   TERTIUS 

SCiENA  Prima. — (^Gardens  of  the  Palace^  as  before,^ 

Cynthia,  three  Lordes,  Tellus. 

{Enfer  Cynthia,  Tellus,  Semele,  Eumenides,  Corsites, 

ZONTES,    PaNELION.) 

Cynthia,    TS  the  report  true,  that  Endimion  is  striken  into  such 
^     a  dead  sleep,  that  nothing  can  either  wake  him  or 
mooue  him  ? 

Eum.  Too  true  Madame,  and  as  much  to  be  pittied  as  won- 
dered at.  5 

Tellus.  As  good  sleepe  and  doe  no  harme,  as  wake  and  doe 
no  good. 

Cynth,  What  maketh  you  Tellus  to  bee  so  short?  the  time  was 
Endimion  onely  was. 

Eum.  It  is  an  olde  saying  Madame,  that  a  waking  dog  doth  a  farre  lo 
off  barke  at  a  sleeping  Lyon. 

Setn,  It  were  good  Eumenides  that  you  tooke  a  nappe  with  your 
friend,  for  your  speech  beginneth  to  be  heauy. 

Eum.  Contrarie  to  your  nature,  Semele^  which  hath  beene  alwaies 
accounted  light.  i^ 

Cynih.  What  haue  we  heare,  before  my  Dace,  these  vnseemely 
and  malepart  ouerthwarts?  I  will  tame  your  tongues,  and  your 
thoughts,  and  make  your  speeches  answerable  to  your  dueties,  and 
your  conceits  fitte  for  my  dignitie,  els  will  I  banish  you  both  my 
person  and  the  worlde.  20 

Eum,  Pardon  I  humbly  aske :  but  such  is  my  vnspotted  faith  to 
Endimion^  that  whatsoeuer  seemeth  a  needle  to  pricke  his  finger^  is 
a  dagger  to  wound  my  heart 

Cynth.  If  you  bee  so  deere  to  him,  howe  happeneth  it  you  neither 
go  to  see  him,  nor  search  for  remedy  for  him  ?  a^ 

Eum,  I  haue  seene  him  to  my  griefe,  and  sought  recure  with 
despaire,  for  that  I  cannot  imagine  who  should  restore  him  that 
is  the  wounder  to  all  men:   your  highnes  on  whose  handes  the 

s.  D.  Cynthia,  three  Lordes,  Tellus  Q  BL  F,  though  Sem.  Eum.  Con.  Zoo. 
appear  in  ail  thru  awtaw  the  foUcwing  prefxes^  apui  Pantlioo  or  Pantalion  in  the 
text,  Dilke  merely  adds  Skmblb  to  the  imperfect  enumeration  of  the  old  eds. 
Baker  gives  the  list  as  here  17  tame]  take  F.  28  wounder  Q^  i,e,  wonder 
as  BL  mods,       on]  in  Z>i7. 


t/> 


sc  i]  ENDIMION  41 

compasse  of  the  earth  is  at  cdmaund,  (though  not  in  possession) 
30  may  shewe  your  selfe  both  worthy  your  sex,  your  nature,  and  your 
fauour,  if  you  redeeme  that  honorable  Endimion^  whose  ripe  yeres 
foretell  rare  vertues^  and  whose  vnmeUowed  conceits  promise  rype 
cpunsell. 

Cynth.   I  haue  had  tryal  of  Endimioriy  &  conceiue  greater  assur- 
35  ance  of  his  age,  then  I  coulde  hope  of  hys  youth. 

Telius,  But  timely.  Madam,  crookes  that  tree  that  wil  be  a 
camock ;  and  young  it  pricks  that  will  be  a  thorne :  and  therefore 
he  that  began  without  care  to  settle  his  life,  it  is  a  signe  without 
amendment  he  will  end  it. 
40  Cynth,  Presumptuous  gyrle,  I  will  make  thy  tongue  an  example 
of  vnrecouerable  displeasure.  CorsiteSy  carry  her  to  the  Castle  in 
the  Deserte,  there  to  remaine  and  weaue. 
Cors.   Shall  she  worke  stories  or  poetries  ? 

Cynth.  It  skyleth  not  which — ^goe  to !  in  both  ;  for  she  shall  find 
45  examples  infinite  in  eyther  what  punishment  long  tongpes  haue. 
EumenideSy  if  eyther  the  Soothsayers  in  Egipt,  or  the  Enchaunters  in 
Thessaly,  or  the  Philosophers  in  Greece,  or  all  the  Sages  of  the 
worlde,  can  find  remedie,  I  will  procure  it ;  therefore  dispatch  with 
al  speede :  you  EumenidcSy  into  Thessalie.  You  Zontes  into  Greece, 
50  (because  you  are  acquainted  in  Athens.)  You  Panelion  to  Egypt, 
saying  that  Cynthia  sendeth,  and  if  you  will,  commaundeth. 

Eum,  On  bowed  knee  I  giue  thanks,  and  with  wings  on  my  legs 
I  flye  for  remedie. 
Zon,  We  are  readie  at  your  highnes  commaund,  &  hope  to  retume 
55  to  your  full  content. 

Cynth,   It  shall  neuer  be  said  that  Cynthiay  whose  mercy  and 

goodnes  filleth  the  heauens  with  ioyes,  &  the  world  with  meruailes, 

will  suffer  esrther  Endimion  or  any  to  perrish,  if  he  may  be  protected. 

Eum,  Your  Maiesties  wordes  haue  beene  alwaies  deedes,  and 

60  your  deedes  vertues.  Exeunt. 

SCiENA  Secunda. — (^Before  a  Castle,) 

{Enter)  Corsites,  Tellus. 

Cors.  Heere  is  the  Castle  (fayre  Tellus)  in  which  you  must  weaue, 
till  eyther  time  end  your  dayes,  or  Cinthia  her  displeasure.     I  am     /  / 
sorrie  so  foyre  a  face  shoulde  bee  subiect  to  so  hard  a  fortune,  and 

33  whose]  those  F.  46  Sonthsayers  BL  50  Panelion  Bak, :  Pantlion 

Q :  FantalioQ  BL  DiL  F.  57  meroailes]  marvaile  Bl.  F. :  manrel  DiL  Bak. 


> 


I 


•^ 


.\ 


42  ENDIMION  [act  m 

that  the  flower  of  beautie,  which  is  honoured  in  Courts,  shoulde 
heere  wither  in  pryson.  5 

Tellus,  CorsiteSy  Cynthia  may  restraine  the  libertie  of  my  bodie, 
of  my  thoughts  she  cannot,  and  therefore  doe  I  esteeme  my  selfe 
most  free,  though  I  am  in  greatest  bondage. 

Cors,  Can  you  then  feede  on  fancie,  and  subdue  the  mallice  of 
enuie  by  the  sweetnes  of  imagination  ?  w 

Teilus,  Corsites,  there  is  no  sweeter  musicke  to  the  miserable  then 
dispayre;  and  therefore  the  more  bittemesse  I  feele,  the  more 
sweetnes  I  find ;  for  so  vaine  were  liberty,  and  so  vnwelcome  the 
following  of  higher  fortune,  that  I  chuse  rather  to  pine  in  this  Castle^ 
then  to  be  a  Prince  in  any  other  Court.  15 

Cors.  A  humor  contrary  to  your  yeeres,  and  nothing  agreeable  to 
your  sex :  the  one  commonly  allured  with  delights,  the  other  alwaies 
with  soueraigntie. 

Tellus,   I  meruaile  Corsites  that  you  being  a  Captain,  who  should 
sound  nothing  but  terror,  and  suck  nothing  but  blood,  can  finde  in  ao 
your  hart  to  talke  such  smooth  wordes,  for  that  it  agreeth  not  with 
your  calling  to  vse  words  so  soft  as  that  of  loue. 

Cors,   Ladie,  it  were  vnfit  of  warres  to  discourse  with  wom€,  into 
whose  minds  nothing  can  sinck  but  smoothnes ;  besides,  you  must  not 
thinke  that  Souldiours  bee  so  rough  hewne,  or  of  such  knottie  mettle,  35 
that  beautie  cannot  allure,  and  you  beeingbeyonde  perfection  enchaunt 

Tellus.  Good  Corsites  talke  not  of  loue,  but  let  me  to  my  labor : 
the  little  beautie  I  haue,  shall  be  bestowed  on  my  Loome,  which 
I  now  meane  to  make  my  Louer. 

Cors.   Let  vs  in,  and  what  fauour  Corsites  can  shewe,  Tellus  shall  30 
commaund. 

Tellus.  The  onely  fauour  I  desire,  is  now  and  then  to  walke. 

Exeunt. 

SCiENA  Tertia. — (^Gardens  of  the  Palace^  as  before,) 

{Enter)  Syr  Tophas  and  Epi<ton>. 
Tophas.  EpL 
Epi.   Heere  sir. 

Tophas.  Vnrigge  mee.     Hey  ho ! 
Epi.  Whatsthat? 

Tophas.  An  interiection,   whereof  some  are  of   mourning :    as  5 ' 
eho^  vah. 

7  I  do  DiL 


sc.  Ill]  ENDIMION  43 

Epi.  I  vnderstand  you  not. 

Tophas,  Thou  seest  me. 

Epi.  I. 
lo      Taphcu.  Thou  hearst  me. 

Epi.   I. 

Tcphas,  Thou  feelest  me. 

Epi.  I. 

Tophas,  And  not  vnderstand'st  me  ? 
15      Epi,  No. 

Tophas.  Then  am  I  but  three  quarters  of  a  Nowne  substantiue. 
But  alas  Epi^  to  tell  thee  the  troth,  I  am  a  Nowne  Adiectiue. 

Epi.  Why? 

Tophas.   Because  I  cannot  stand  without  another, 
ao     Epi.  Who  is  that? 

Tophas.   Dipsas. 

Epi.   Are  you  in  loue  ? 

Tophas.  No :  but  loue  hath  as  it  were  milkt  my  thoughts,  and 
drained  from  my  hart  the  very  substance  of  my  accustomed  courage ; 
35  it  worketh  in  my  heade  like  newe  Wine,  so  as  I  must  hoope  my 
skonce  with  yron,  least  my  head  breake,  and  so  I  bewray  my 
braines :  but  I  pray  thee  first  discouer  me  in  all  parts,  that  I  may  be 
like  a  Louer,  and  then  will  I  sigh  and  die.  Take  my  gunne  and  giue 
me  a  gowne  :  Cedant  arma  toga. 
30     Epi.   Heere. 

Tophas.  Take  my  sworde  and  shielde,  and  giue  mee  beard-brush 
and  Cyssers :  bella  gerant  aliiy  tu  Pari  semper  ama. 

Epi.  Will  you  be  trimd  sir  ? 

Tophas,  Not  yet :  for  I  feele  a  contention  within  me,  whether 
35  I  shall  frame  the  bodkin  beard  or  the  bush.     But  take  my  pike  and 
giue  mee  pen :  dicere  qua  puduity  scribere  iussit  amor, 

Epi.    I  wyll  furnish  you  sir. 

Tophas.   Nowe  for  my  bowe  and  bolts  giue  me  ynke  and  paper ; 
for  my  Smiter  a  pen-knife:    for  Scalpelium,  calami^  atramentum^ 
40  charta^  libelliy  sint  semper  studiis  arma  parata  meis. 

Epi.   Sir,  will  you  giue  ouer  warres,  &  play  with  that  bable  called 
loue? 

10  hearest  Bl.  mods,  39  Cedant  Dii,  Bak, :  Coedant  Q  Bl.  F.  31 

beard-brush  Dil.  Bak, :  beard,  bmsh  Q  Bl.  F,  32  Pari  BL  DiL  Bak, :  pari 

QF,  36  a  brfore  pen  Dii,      quae]  que  Q  39  Smiter  Q :  Semiter  Bl,  F. : 

scimitar  Dil, :  simitar  Bak, ;  ^/  r/*.  i.  3.  89  41  baable  Dil,  Bak, 


44  ENDIMION  [act  hi 

Tophas,  Giue  ouer  warres  ?  no  Epi^  Militat  omnis  amans,  et  Jiabtt 
sua  castra  Cupido, 

EpL   Loue  hath  made  you  very  eloquent,  but  your  face  is  nothing  43 
fayre. 

Tophas,  Nonformosus  erat^  sed  erat  facundus  VJisses, 

Epu  Nay,  I  must  seeke  a  new  Maister  if  you  can  speake  nothing 
but  verses. 

Tophas,  Quicquid  conabar  dicere  versus  erat  Epi^  I  feele  all  Ouid  ffi 
de  arte  amandi  lie  as  heauie  at  my  heart  as  a  loade  of  logges. 
O  what  a  fine  thin  hayre  hath  Dipsas  /  What  a  prettie  low  fore- 
head !  What  a  tall  &  statelie  nose !  What  little  hoUowe  eyes ! 
What  great  and  goodly  lypes !  Howe  harmlesse  shee  is  beeing 
toothlesse  !  her  fingers  fatte  and  short,  adorned  with  long  nayles  like  55 
a  Bytter !  In  howe  sweete  a  proportion  her  cheekes  hang  downe  to 
her  brests  like  dugges,  and  her  pappes  to  her  waste  like  bagges ! 
What  a  lowe  stature  shee  is,  and  yet  what  a  great  foote  shee  carryeth ! 
Howe  thrifty  must  she  be  in  whom  there  is  no  waste!  Howe 
vertuous  is  shee  like  to  be,  ouer  whom  no  man  can  be  ielous !  6o 

Epi.  Stay  Maister,  you  forget  your  selfe. 

Tophas,  O  Epiy  euen  as  a  dish  melteth  by  the  fire,  so  doth  my 
wit  increase  by  loue. 

EpL  Pithily,  and  to  the  purpose.  But  what?  beginne  you  to  nodde? 

Tophas,  Good  Epi^  let  me  take  a  nappe :  for  as  some  man  may  65 
better  steale  a  horse,  then  another  looke  ouer  the  hedge :  so  diuers 
shall  be  sleepie  when  they  woulde  fainest  take  rest  He  skepes, 

Epi,  Who  euer  saw  such  a  woodcock  ?  loue  Dipsas !  without  doubt 
all  the  world  will  nowe  account  him  valiant,  that  ventureth  on  her, 
whom  none  durst  vndertake.     But  heere  commeth  two  wagges.  70 

Enter  Dares  and  Samias. 

Sam,   Thy  Maister  hath  slept  his  share. 

Dar,  I  thinke  he  doth  it  because  he  would  not  paie  me  my  boord 
wages. 

Sam,  It  is  a  thing  most  strange,  and  I  thinke  mine  will  neuer 
retume,  so  that  wee  must  both  seeke  newe  Maisters,  for  we  shall  75 
neuer  hue  by  our  manners. 

Epi.  If  you  want  Maisters,  ioyne  with  me,  and  seme  Sir  Tophas^ 
who  must  needes  keepe  more  men,  because  he  is  toward  marriage. 

44  castea  Q  53  tall]  talc  Q  56  Bytter  C,  cf,l.^i  Bytten 

Bl,  mods. 


sa  III]  ENDIMION  45 

Sam,  What,  Epi  !  wher's  thy  Maister  ? 
80      Epi,   Yonder,  sleeping  in  loue. 
Dar,   Is  it  possible? 

Epu   Hee  hath  taken  his  thoughts  a  hole  lower^  and  sayth,  seeing 
it  Is  the  fashion  of  the  world,  hee  will  vaile  bonet  to  beautie. 
Sam,    How  is  he  attyred  ? 
gg      Epi,   Louelie. 

Dar,  Whom  loueth  this  amorous  knight  ? 
Epi,   Dtpsas, 

Sam,  That  vglie  creature?    Why  shee  is  a  foole,  a  scold,  fat, 
without  fashion,  and  quite  without  fauour. 
90      Epi,  Tush  you  be  simple,  my  Ma.  hath  a  good  marriage. 
Dar,   Good  ?  as  how  ? 

Epu  Why  in  marrying  Dipsas^  hee  shall  haue  euerie  day  twelue 
dishes  of  meate  to  his  dinner,  though  there  be  none  but  Dipsas  with 
him.     Foure  of  flesh,  four  of  fish,  foure  of  fruite. 
95      Sam,   As  how  Epi  ? 

Epi.    For  flesh  these ;  woodcock,  goose,  bitter,  &  rayle. 
JDar,   Indeed  he  shal  not  misse,  if  Dipsas  be  there. 
Epi,   For  fish  these ;  crab,  carpe,  lumpe,  and  powting. 
Sam,   Excellent !  for  of  my  word,  she  is  both  crabbish,  lumpish, 
100  and  carping. 

Epi,  For  fruite  these ;  fretters,  medlers,  hartichockes,  and  Lady 
longings.  Thus  you  see  hee  shall  fare  like  a  King,  though  he  be 
but  a  begger. 

Dar,    Well,  Epi^  dine  thou  with  him,  for  I  had  rather  fast  then 
105  see  her  face.    But  see,  thy  Ma.  is  a  sleepe :  let  vs  haue  a  song  to 
wake  this  Amorous  knight. 
Epi,   Agreed. 


Sam,   Content. 


The  First  Song. 


Epi,  TJEre  snores  TofihaSf 

no  That  Amorous  Asse, 

Who  loues  Dipsas f 
With  face  so  sweet. 
Nose  and  Chinne  meet. 
>f //  ih        I  ^^  sight  of  her  each  Fury  skips 
115  *  I  And  flings  into  her  lap  their  whips. 

96  bitter  Q,  rf,  /.  56 :  Byttem  Bl,  mods,  99  of  om.  DU,  loi 

Fritten  Bl,  mods,  s.  D.  The  First  Song  so  Bl,  where  it  first  appears ;   Q 

has  merely  Song,  without  giving  it 


lao 


46  ENDIMION  [act  m 

Dor.  Holla,  Holla  in  his  eare. 

Sam^  The  Witch  sure  thrust  her  fingers  there. 

Epu  Crampe  him,  or  wring  the  Foole  by  th*  Nose. 

Dar,  Or  clap  some  burning  flax  to  his  toes. 
Sam^  What  Musique's  best  to  wake  him? 

Epi,  Baw  wow,  let  Bandogs  shake  him 

Dar.  Let  Adders  hisse  in*s  eare. 

Sam.  Else  Eare-wigs  wriggle  there. 

Epi,  No,  let  him  batten ;  when  his  tongue 

Once  goes,  a  Cat  is  not  worse  strung.  \i\ 

Allik       1  ^"^  '^  ^^  ^P®  °°"^  mouth,  nor  eies, 

'  I  He  may  in  time  sleepe  himselfe  wise. 

Top,   Sleepe  is  a  bynding  of  the  sences,  loue  a  loosing. 

Epi,  {aside).    Let  vs  heare  him  awhile. 

Top,  There  appeared  in  my  sleepe  a  goodly  Owle,  who  sitting  130 
vpon  my  shoulder,  cryed  twyt  twyt,  &  before  myne  eyes  presented 
her  selfe  the  expresse  image  of  Dipsas.  I  meruailed  what  the  Owle 
said,  til  at  the  last,  I  perceiued  twyt  twyt,  to  it,  to  it :  onely  by  con- 
traction admonished  by  thys  vision,  to  make  account  of  my  sweet 
Venus,  135 

Sam,    Sir  TophaSy  you  haue  ouer-slept  your  selfe. 

Top,   No  youth,  I  haue  but  slept  ouer  my  loue. 

Dar,   Loue?     Why  it  is  impossible,  that  into  so  noble  and 
vnconquered  a  courage,  loue  should  creepe ;  hauing  first  a  head  as 
hard  to  pearce  as  Steele,  then  to  passe  to  a  hart  arm'd  with  a  shirt  140 
of  male. 

Epi,  I,  but  my  Maister  yawning  one  day  in  the  Sun,  loue  crept 
into  his  mouth  before  he  could  close  it^  and  there  kept  such  a  tum- 
bling in  his  bodie,  that  he  was  glad  to  vntrusse  the  poynts  of  his  hart, 
and  entertaine  Loue  as  a  stranger.  j^^ 

Top,  If  there  remaine  any  pittie  in  you,  pleade  for  me  to 
Dipsas, 

Dar,   Pleade?    Nay,  wee  will  presse  her  to  \\„—(^Asid€  to  Sam.) 
Let  vs  goe  with  him  to  Dipsas^  and  there  shall  wee  haue  good  sport — 
But  sir  Tophas  when  shall  we  goe  ?  for  I  finde  my  tongue  voluble,  150 
and  my  hart  venturous,  and  all  my  selfe  like  my  selfe. 

Sam,  {aside  to  Dar.).   Come  Dares^  let  vs  not  loose  him  till  we 

133-4  ^^"^t . . .  admonished  so  punctuated  Q  Bl, :  twit,  twit,  was  to  it,  to  it,  only 
by  contraction;  admonished  Du,\  'Twit,  twit,*  'To  it,  to  it*— Hwly,  by  con- 
traction admonished  Bak,  s.  D.  [Aside  &c.]  the  asides  here  supplied 
byBak. 


sc  111]  ENDIMION  47 

■ 

find  our  Maisters,  for  as  long  as  he  liueth,  we  shall  lack  neither  mirth 
nor  meate. 
155      Epi^   We  will  trauice.     Will  you  goe  sir  ? 

Top.   I prce^  sequar.  Exeunt, 

SCiENA  QuARTA. — (^A  dcscrt  placCy  with  a  fountain,) 

EUMENIDES,   GeRON. 

{Geron  singing:  to  whom^  at  dose  of  song^  enter  Eumenides.) 

Eum,  Father,  your  sad  musique  beeing  tuned  on  the  same  key 
that  my  harde  fortune  is,  hath  so  melted  my  minde,  that  I  wish  to 
hang  at  your  mouthes  ende  till  my  life  end. 

Ger,   These  tunes,  Gentleman,  haue  I  beene  accusttomed  with 
5  these  fiftie  Winters,  hauing  no  other  house  to  shrowde  my  selfe  but         f\        L^ 
the  broade  heauens :  and  so  familiar  with  mee  hath  vse  made  miserie,  '^ — ^  ^^. 

that  I  esteeme  sorrowe  my  cheefest  solace.    And  welcommest  is       A^*^-'^^^''*'^^ 
that  guest  to  mee^that  can  rehearse  the  saddest  tale,  or  the  bloodiest  " 

tragedie. 
>o      Eum,   A  strange  humour,  might  I  enquire  the  cause  ? 

Ger,  You  must  pardon  me  if  I  denie  to  tell  it,  for  knowing  that 
the  reuealing  of  griefes  is  as  it  were  a  renewing  of  sorrow,  I  haue 
vowed  therefore  to  conceale  them,  that  I  might  not  onely  feele 
the  depth  of  euerlasting  discontentment,  but  dispaire  of  remedie. 
15  But  whence  are  you?  What  fortune  hath  thrust  you  to  thys 
distresse  ? 

Eum,    I  am  going  to  Thessalie,  to  seeke  remedie  for  Endimion  my 
deerest  freende,  who  hath  beene  cast  into  a  dead  sleepe,  almost  these 
twentie  yeeres,  waxing  olde,  and  readie  for  the  graue,  beeing  almost 
JO  but  newlie  come  forth  of  the  cradle. 

Ger,   You  neede  not  for  recure  trauell  farre,  for  who  so  can  j 
cleerely  see  the  bottome  of  thys  P  ountaine  shall  haue  remedie  for 
any  thing. 

Eum,   That  mee  thinketh  is  vnpossible :  why,  what  vertue  can  '  >t^^>^ 

25  there  be  in  water?  J^^'       ^, 

Ger,  Yes,  who  soeuer  can  shedde  the  teares  of  a  faythfull  Louer 
shall  obtaine  any  thing  he  would:  reade  these  words  engrauen 
about  the  brimme. 

Eum.   Haue  you  knowne  this  by  experience,  or  is  it  placed  heere 
30  of  purpose  to  delude  men  ? 

155  trauice]  traverse  Bak,         3  my  om.  Bl.  mods,  19  and]  am  F,  29 

knowe  /*• 


:-^\      -^ 


I     ■•-■»  J 


/.\ 


48  ENDIMION  [act  m 

Ger,  I  onely  would  haue  experience  of  it,  and  then  shoulde  there 
bee  an  ende  of  my  miserie.  And  then  woulde  I  tell  the  strangest 
discourse  that  euer  yet  was  heard. 

Eum,  (^aside}.    Ah  Eumenidesf  • 

Ger.   What  lacke  you  Gentleman,  are  you  not  wel  ?  35 

Eum,  Yes  Father,  but  a  qualme  that  often  commeth  ouer  my 
hart  doth  nowe  take  hold  of  me.  But  did  neuer  any  Louers  come 
hether? 

Ger.  Lusters,  but  not  Louers ;  for  often  haue  I  seene  them  weepe, 
but  neuer  could  I  heare  they  saw  the  bottome.  40 

Eum,   Came  there  women  also  ? 

Ger,   Some. 

Eum.   What  did  they  see  ? 

Ger,   They  all  wept  that  the  Fountaine  ouerflowed  with  teares, 
but  so  thicke  became  the  water  with  theyr  teares,  that  I  could  scarce  45 
disceme  the  brimme,  much  lesse  beholde  the  bottome. 

Eum,    Be  faithfull  Louers  so  skant  ? 

Ger,   It  seemeth  so,  for  yet  heard  I  neuer  of  any. 

Eum,  Ah  Eumenides^  howe  art  thou  perplexed  i  call  to  minde  the 
beautie  of  thy  sweet  Mistris,  and  the  depth  of  thy  neuer  dyimg  ffi 
affections:  howe  oft  hast  thou  honoured  her,  not  onelie  without 
spotte,  but  suspition  of  falsehoode !  And  howe  hardly  hath  shee 
rewarded  thee,  without  cause  or  colour  of  despight !  Howe  secrete 
hast  thou  beene  these  seauen  yeeres^  that  hast  not,  nor  once  darest 
not,  to  name  her,  for  discontenting  her.  Howe  faythfuU !  that  hast  55 
offered  to  dye  for  her,  to  please  her.    Vnhappie  Eumenides  I 

Ger,   Why,  Gentleman,  did  you  once  love  ? 

Eum,   Once  ?    I  Father,  and  euer  shall. 

Ger.   Was  she  vnkind,  and  you  faithfull  ? 

Eum,   Shee  of  all  women  the  most  froward,  and  I  of  sUl  creatures  60 
the  most  fond. 

Ger,  You  doted  then,  not  loued:  for  affection  is  grounded  on 
vertue,  and  vertue  is  neuer  peeuish:  or  on  Beautie,  and  Beautie 
loueth  to  be  praised. 

Eum,   I,  but  if  all  vertuous  Ladies  should  yeelde  to  all  that  be  65 
louing,  or  all  amiable  gentlewomen  entertaine  all  that  be  agiorous, 
theyr  vertues  would  bee  accounted  vices,  and  their  beauties  deformi- 
ties ;  for  that  loue  can  bee  but  betweene  two,  and  that  not  proceeding 
of  him  that  is  most  faithfull,  but  most  fortunate. 

55  hath  F,  Bak.  67  their  cm,  Bl.  mods. 


sc  IV]  ENDIMION  49 

70      Ger.   I  would  you  were  so  faithfull,  that  your  teares  might  make 
you  fortunate. 

Eum,  Yea  father,  if  that  my  teares  cleare  not  this  fountaine,  then 
may  you  sweare  it  is  but  a  meere  mockerie. 
Ger.   So  saith  every  one  yet,  that  wept. 
75     Eum,   Ah,  I  fainte,  I  dye  I    Ah  sweete  Semele  let  me  alone,  and 
dissolue,  by  weeping,  into  water. 

(^He  gazes  into  the  fountain,) 

Ger.  This  affection  seemeth  straunge:  if  hee  see  nothing, 
without  doubt  this  dissembling  passeth,  for  nothing  shall  drawe  mee 
from  the  beleefe. 
80  Eum,  Father,  I  plainlie  see  the  bottome,  and  there  in  white 
marble  engrauen  these  wordes,  Aske  one  for  ally  and  but  one  thing 
at  all 

Ger,   O  fortunate  EumenideSy  (for  so  haue  I  hearde  thee  call  thy 
selfe)  let  me  see.     (^Laoks  into  the  fountain,)     I  cannot  discerne  any 
85  such  thing.     I  thinke  thou  dreamest. 

Eum,   Ah  Father,  thou  art  not  a  faithfull  louer,  and  therefore  canst 
not  beholde  it 

Ger.   Then  aske ;  that  I  may  be  satisfied  by  the  euent,  and  thy 

selfe  blessed. 

90     Eum,   Aske?  so  I  will:   and  what  shall  I  doo  but  aske?  and 

whome  should  I  aske  but  Semele  ?  the  possessing  of  whose  person 

is  a  pleasure  that  cannot  come  within  the  compasse  of  comparison ; 

whose  golden  lockes  seeme  most  curious,  when  they  seeme  most 

carelesse ;  whose  sweete  lookes  seeme  most  alluring,  when  they  are 

95  most  chaste ;  and  whose  wordes  the  more  vertuous  they  are,  the 

more  amorous  they  bee  accounted.      I  pray  thee,  fortune,  when 

I  shall  first  meete  with  fayre  Semele^  dash  my  delight  with  some 

light  disgrace,  least  imbracing  sweetnesse  beyond  measure,  I  take 

a  surfit  without  recure :  let  her  practise  her  accustomed  coynesse, 

100  that  I  may  dyet  my  selfe  vpon  my  desires :  otherwise  the  fulnesse 

of  my  ioyes  will  diminish  the  sweetnesse,  and  I  shall  perrish  by  them 

before  I  possesse  them. 

Why  doe  I  trifle  the  time  in  words  ?    The  least  minute,  beeing 

spent  in  the  getting  of  Semele^  is  more  worth  then  the  whole  worlde : 

105  therefore  let  mee  aske.     What  nowe  Eumenides?    Whether  art  thou 

78  this  so  all  81  one]  once  DiL  perhaps  rightly  93  seeme*]  are  Dil. 

perhaps  rightly  104  of  am,  Dil,  105  aske.]  aske,  F,  spoiling  sense 

BOMD  III  £ 


so  ENDIMION  [act  hi 

drawn?  Hast  thou  forgotten  both  friendship  and  duetie?  Care 
of  Endimion^  and  the  commaundement  of  Cynthia^  Shall  hee 
dye  in  a  leaden  sleepe,  because  thou  sleepest  in  a  golden  dreame? 
I,  let  him  sleepe  euer,  so  I  slumber  but  one  minute  with  Semeie. 
Loue  knoweth  neither  friendshippe  nor  kindred.  no 

Shall  I  not  hazard  the  losse  of  a  friend,  for  the  obtayning  of  her 
for  whome  I  woulde  often  loose  my  selfe  ?  Fonde  Eumenides^  shall 
the  intycing  beautie  of  a  most  disdainfull  Ladie,  bee  of  more  force 
then  the  rare  fidelitie  of  a  tryed  friend  ?  The  loue  of  men  to  women 
is  a  thing  common  and  of  course:  the  friendshippe  of  man  to  man  115 
infinite  and  immortall.  Tush,  Semele  dooth  possesse  my  loue. 
I,  hut  Ends'mion  hath  deserued  it.  I  will  helpe  Endimian.  I  founde 
Endimion  vnspotted  in  his  trueth.  I,  but  I  shall  finde  Semele  con- 
stant in  her  loue.  I  will  haue  Semek,  What  shall  I  doe?  Father, 
thy  gray  haires  are  Embassadours  of  experience.  Which  shall  I  lao 
aske? 

Ger,  EumenideSf  release  Endimion^  for  all  thinges  (friendship 
excepted)  are  subiect  to  fortune.:  Loue  is  but  an  eye-worme,  which 
onely  tickleth  the  heade  with  hopes  and  wishes:  friendshippe  the 
image  of  etemitie,  in  which  there  is  nothing  moueable^  nothing  135 
mischeeuous.  ,  As  much  difference  as  there  is  betweene  Beautie 
and  Vertue^  bodies  and  shadowes,  colours  and  life;  so  great  oddes 
is  there  betweene  loue  and  friendshippe. 

Loue  is  a  Camelion^  which  draweth  nothing  into  the  mouth  but 
ayre,  and  nourisheth  nothing  in  the  bodie  but  lunges :  beleeue  mee  130 
Eumenides^  Desire  dyes  in  the  same  pioment  that  Beautie  sickens, 
and  Beautie  fadeth  in  the  same  instant  that  it  flourisheth.    When 
aduersities  flowe^  then  loue  ebbes :   but  friendship  standeth  stifflie 
in  stormes.    Time  draweth  wrinckles  in  a  fayre  face,  but  addeth 
fresh  colours  to  a  fast  friende,  which  neither  heate,  nor  cold,  nor  135 
miserie^  nor  place^  nor  destiny,  can  alter  or  diminish.     O  friendship ! 
of  all  things  the  most  rare,  and  therefore  most  rare  because  most 
excellent,  whose  comforts  in  misery  is  alwaies  sweet,  and  whose 
counsels  in  prosperitie  are  euer  fortunate.    Vaine  loue,  that  onely 
comming  neere  to  friendship  in  name,  woulde  seeme  to  be  the  same,  140 
or  better,  in  nature. 

Eum,   Father^  I  allowe  your  reasons,  and  will  therefore  conquer 
mine  owne.    Vertue  shall  subdue  affections^  wisdome  lust,  friendship 

118  shall  finde]  found  Dil,  129  chameleon  Bak,        '  13a  floariihes  Dii. 

133  friendships  standeth  DiL  138  is]  are  DiL 


sciv]  ENDIMION  51 

beautie.    Mistresses  are  in  euery  place^  and  as  common  as  Hares 

145  in  Atho^  Bees  in  Hxhla^ foules  in  the  ayre :  but  friends  to  .bfcfounde, 

are^like  the^Phoenix  in  Arabia,  but  one,  or  the  Philadelphi  in  Arays, 

'  heuer  aboue  two.     I  will  haue  Endimion :   (jigain  looking  into  the 

fountcUn)  sacred  Fountaine!    in  whose  bowels  are  hidden  diuine 

secrets,  I  haue  encreased  your  waters  with  the  teares  of  vnspotted 

150  thoughts  and  therefore  let  mee  receiue  the  reward  you  promise : 

Endimion^   the   truest  friende  to   mee,   and   faithfullest   louer  to 

Cynthia^   is  in  such  a  dead  sleepe,   that   nothing  can  wake   or 

mooue  him. 

Ger,  Doost  thou  see  any  thing  ? 
155  Eum,  I  see,  in  the  same  Filler,  these  wordes:  When  shee  whose 
figure  of  all  is  the  perfectest^  and  neuer  to  bee  measured — ahvaies  one^ 
yet  neuer  the  same — still  inconstant^  yet  neuer  wauering — shall  come 
and  hisse  Endimion  in  his  sleepe^  hee  shall  then  rise  ;  els  neuer.  This 
is  straunge. 
160      Ger.  What  see  you  els  ? 

Eum.  There  commeth  ouer  mine  eyes  either  a  darke  mist,  or 
vppon  the  fountaine  a  deepe  thicknesse :  for  I  can  perceiue  nothing. 
But  howe  am  I  deluded?   or  what  difficult  (nay  impossible)  thing 
is  this? 
165      Ger.  Me  thinketh  it  easie. 

Eum,  Good  father  and  howe  ? 
Ger,  Is  not  a  circle  of  all  Figures  the  perfectest  ? 
Eum.  Yes. 

Ger.  And  is  not  Cynthia  of  all  cyrcles  the  most  absolute ! 
170     Eum.  Yes. 

Ger,  Is  it  not  impossible  to  measure  her,  who  still  worketh  by 
her  influence,  neuer  standing  at  one  stay  ? 
Eum,  Yes. 

Ger.  Is  shee  not  alwaies   Cynthia^  yet  seldome  in  the  same 

i75bignesse;    alwaies  wauering  in  her  waxing  or  wayning,  that  our 

bodies  might  the  better  bee  gouemed,  our  seasons  the  daylier  giue 

their  increase ;  yet  neuer  to  bee  remooued  from  her  course,  as  long 

as  the  heauens  continue  theirs  ? 

Eum,  Yes. 

180      Ger,  Then  who  can  it  bee  but  Cynthia^  whose  vertues  beeing  all 

diuine,  must  needes  bring  things  to  passe  that  bee  myraculous? 

Goe,  humble  thy  selfe  to  Cynthia^  tell  her  the  successe,  of  which 

145  on  Athos  Bak,     146  Phsenix  Q  Bl,  F.   Arays  so  all     176  be  the  better  Dil, 

X  2 


^/(' 


5  2  ENDIMION  [act  hi,  sc  iv 

my  selfe  shall  bee  a  witnesse.  And  this  assure  thy  selfe,  that  shee 
that  sent  to  finde  meanes  for  his  safetie,  will  now  worke  her  cun- 
ning. 185 

Eum.   How  fortunate  am  I,  if  Cynthia  be  she  that  may  doo  it. 

Ger.   Howe  fonde  art  thou,  if  thou  doo  not  beleeue  it  ? 

Eum,  I  will  hasten  thither,  that  I  may  intreat  on  my  knees  for 
succour,  and  imbrace  in  mine  armes  my  friend. 

Ger,   I  will  goe  with  thee,  for  vnto  Cynthia  must  I  discouer  all  190 
my  sorrowes,  who  also  must  worke  in  mee  a  contentment 

Eum,   May  I  nowe  knowe  the  cause  ? 

Ger,  That  shall  bee  as  wee  walke,  and .  I  doubt  not  but  the 
straungnesse  of  my  tale  will  take  away  the  tediousnesse  of  our 
iourney.  195 

Eum,   Let  vs  goe. 

Ger,   I  followe.  Exeunt, 

ACTUS   QUARTUS 

SCiENA  Prima. — {Before  Corsitef  Castle,) 

Tellus,  Corsites. 

{Enter  Tellus.) 
Tellus,   Y  Maruell  Corsites  giueth  me  so  much  libertie:    all  the 


/ 


worlde  knowing  his  charge  to   bee  so  high,  and  his 
nature  to  bee  most  straunge;  who  hath  so  ill  intreated  Ladies  of 
great  honour,  that  he  hath   not  suffered   them  to  looke  out   of 
windowes,  much  lesse  to  walke  abroade :  it  may  bee  hee  is  in  loue  5 
with  mee,  for  {Endimion,  hard-harted  Endimion^  excepted)  what  is 
he  that  is  not  enamourd  of  my  beautie  ?    But  what  respectest  thou 
the  loue  of  all  the  world  ?    Endimion  hates  thee.     Alas  poore  Endi- 
mion^  my  malyce  hath  exceeded  my  loue :  and  thy  faith  to  Cynthia 
quenched  my  affections.      Quenched    Tellus  1    nay  kindled  them  10 
a  fresh ;  in  so  much  that  I  finde  scorching  flames  for  dead  embers, 
and  cruell  encounters  of  warre  in  my  though tes^  in  steede  of  sweete 
parlees.    Ah  that  I  might  once  againe  see  Endimion  \  accursed  girle, 
what  hope  hast  thou  to  see  Endimion  ?  on  whose  head  already  are 
growne  gray  haires,  and  whose  life  must  yeelde  to  Nature^  before  15 
Cynthia  ende  her  displeasure.    Wicked  Dipsas^  and  most  deuilish 

187  fonde]  silly  F,  16  most]  more  F,  Bak, 


ACT  IV,  SC  l] 


ENDIMION 


53 


Teilus,  the  one  for  cunning  too  exquisite  the  other  for  hate  too 
intollerable.  Thou  wast  commanded  to  weaue  the  stories  &  Poetries 
wherein  were  shewed  both  examples    &  punishments  of   tatling 

20  tongues^  and  thou  hast  only  imbrodered  the  sweet  face  of  Endimion^ 
deuises  of  loue^  melancholy  imaginations,  and  what  not,  out  of  thy 
worke,  that  thou  shouldst  studie  to  picke  out  of  thy  mind.  But 
here  cometh  CorsiteSy  I  must  seeme  yeelding  and  stoute,  ful  of  mild- 
nesse,  yet  tempered  with  a  Maiestie  :  for  if  I  be  too  flexible,  I  shall 

35  giue  him  more  hope  then  I  meane ;  if  too  froward,  enioy  lesse 
liberty  then  I  would;  loue  him  I  cannot,  &  therfore  will  practise 
tRat  which  is  most  customarie  to  our  sex,  to  dissemble. 

Enter  Corsites. 

Cor,  Faire  Teilus^  I  perceiue  you  rise  with  the  Larke,  and  to  your    / 
selfe  sing  with  the  Nightingale. 
30      Teilus,  My  Lord  I  haue  no  play-fellow  but  fancy :  being  barred  of 
all  companie  I  must  question  with  my  selfe,  and  make  my  thoughts 
my  frindes. 

Cor,   I  would  you  would  account  my  thoughtes  also  your  friends, 

for  they  be  such  as  are  only  busied  in  wondering  at  your  beautie 

35  &  wisdome :  &  some,  such  as  haue  esteemed  your  fortune  too  hard ; 

and  diuers  of  that  kind  that  offer  to  set  you  free,  if  you  will  set  them 

free. 

Teilus,  There  are  no  colours  so  contrarie  as  white  and  blacke, 
nor  Elements  so  disagreeing  as  fire  and  water,  nor  any  thing  so 
40  opposite  as  mens  thoughts  &  their  words. 

Cor,   He  that  gaue  Cassandra  the  gift  of  prophecying,  with  the  4 
curse  that,  spake  shee  neuer  so  true,  shee  should  neuer  be  beleeued, 
hath  I  think  poysoned  the  fortune  of  men,  that  vttering  the  ex- 
tremities of  their  inward  passions,  are  alwayes  suspected  of  outward 
45  periuries. 

Telius,  WeU  Corsites  I  will  flatter  my  selfe,  and  beleeue  you. 
What  would  you  doe  to  enioy  my  loue  ? 

Cor,  Sette  all  the  Ladies  of  the  Castle  free,  and  make  you  the 
pleasure  of  my  life :  more  I  cannot  doe,  lesse  I  will  not. 
50      Telius,  These  be  great  wordes,  and  fit  your  calling:    for  Cap- 
taines  must  promise  things  impossible.     But  wil  you  doe  one  thing 
foraU? 

22  worke,]  Dil.  om,  comma  27  customarie]  contrarie  all prev,  eds.     sex,] 

BL  om.  comma  32  frindes  Q :  friends  Bl,  rest  35  wisdome :]  Bl.  om,  colon 
38  black  and  white  Dil,        50  for  before  yoor  F.  Bak, 


."  t 


-•  'f 


'3 


54  ENDIMION  ^   ^     ^  [activ 

Cor,   Any  thing  sweet  Teiius,  that  am  ready  for  ajf. 

Tellus,  You  knowe  that  on  the  Lunary  bancke  sleegeth  Endimum. 

Cor,   I  knowe  it.  55 

Tellus,  If  you  will  remoue  him  from  that  plac&  b/  force,  and 
conuey  him  into  some  obscure  caue  by  pollicie,  I  giue^you  here  the 
faith  of  an  vnspotted  virgine,  that  you  onelie  shall  possesse  me  as 
a  louer,  and  in  spight  of  malice  haue  mee  for  a  wife. 

Cor,   Remooue  him  Tellus  ?    Yes  Tellus,  hee  shall  bee  remooued,  60 
and  that  so  soone,  as  thou  shalt  as  much  commend  my  dilligence  as 
my  force.    I  goe.  '^-^ 

Tellus,  Stay,  will  your  selfe  attempt  it  i. 

Cor.  I  Tellus  .•  as  I  would  haue  none  partaker  of  my  sweete  loue, 
so  shall  none  be  partners  of  my  labours :  but  I  pray  thee  goe  at  your  65 
best  leysure,  for  Cynthia  beginneth  to  rise,  and  if  she  discouer  our 
loue  we  both  perish,  for  nothing  pleaseth  her  but  the  fairenesse  of 
virginitie.  All  thinges  must  bee  not  onely  without  lust,  but  without 
suspicion  of  lightnes. 

Tellus,   I  will  depart,  and  goe  you  to  Enditnion.  70 

Cor,   I  flye  Tellus,  beeing  of  all  men  the  most  fortunate.         r.   .. 

Tellus.  Simple  Corsites,  I  haue  set  thee  about  a  taske  being  but 
a  man,  y^  the  gods  thSselues  cannot  performe :  for  little  doost  thou 
knowe  howe  heauie  his  head  lies,  howe  hard  his  fortune :  but  such 
shiftes  must  women  haue  to  deceiue  men,  and  vnder  colour  of  things  75 
easie,  intreat  that  which  is  impossible :  otherwise  we  should  be 
cQbred  with  importunities,  oathes,  sighes^  letters,  and  all  implements 
of  loue,  which  to  one  resolued  to  the  contrary,  are  most  lothsome. 
I  will  in,  and  laugh  with  the  other  Ladies  at  Corsites  sweating. 

Exit. 

SCiENA  Secunda. — {Gardens  of  the  Palace,  as  before.) 

Samias  and  Dares,  Epiton. 

(^Enter  Samias  and  Dares.) 

Sam,   Will  thy  master  neuer  awake  ? 

Dar.  No,  I  thinke  hee  sleepes  for  a  wager :  but  how  shall  wee 
spende  the  time  ?  Sir  Tophas  is  so  farre  in  loue  that  he  pineth  in 
his  bedde,  and  commeth  not  abroade. 

Sam.   But  here  commeth  Epi,  in  a  pelting  chafe.  c 


73  y*  om,  Bl,  mods.  s.  D.  Samias  and  Dares,  Epiton  Q  :  SamiMi  Dues 

and  Epiton  Bl.  DU.  F.  ,  xs  — ,        « 


sc  ii]  ENDIMION  ss 

(^Enter  Epiton.) 

E^.  A  poxe  of  all  felse  Prouerbes,  and  were  a  Prouerbe  a  Page,    jf\ 
I  would  haue  him  by  the  eares. 

Sam.   Why  art  thou  angry  ? 

Efii.  Why  ?  you  knowe  it  is  sayd,  the  tyde  tarieth  no  man. 
lo      Safn,   True. 

Epi.  A  monstrous  lye;  for  I  was  tide  two  houres^  and  tarried  for    f) 
one  to  vnlose  mee. 

Dar.   Ahs  poor^  Epi, 

Epi,   Poore?    No,  no,  you  base(-)conceited  slaues,  I  am  a  most 
15  complyt  Gentleman,  although  I  bee  in  disgrace  with  sir  Tophas, 

Dar,   Art  thou  out  with  him  ? 

EpL   I,  because  I  cannot  gette  him  a  lodging  with  Endtmion :  hee 
would  faine  take  a  nappe  for  fortie  or  fifty  yeeres. 

Dar,  A  short  sleepe^  considering  our  long  life, 
ao      Sam,   Is  he  still  in  loue  ? 

Epi,   In  loue?  why  he  doth  nothing  but  make  Sonets. 

Sam.   Canst  thou  remember  any  one  of  his  Poems  ? 

Epi,   I^  this  is  one. 

The  beggar  Loue  that  knows  not  where  to  lodge: 
35  At  last  within  my  hart  when  I  slept, 

He  crept, 
I  wakt,  and  so  my  fancies  began  to  fodge. 

Sam.  That's  a  verie  long  verse. 

Epi,  Why  the  other  was  shorte,  the  first  is  called  from  the  thombe 

30  to  the  little  finger,  the  second  from  the  little  finger  to  the  elbowe, 

and  some  hee  hath  made  to  reach  to  the  crowne  of  his  head,  and 

downe  again  to  the  sole  of  his  foote :  it  is  sette  to  the  tune  of  the 

blacke  Saunce^  ratio  est^  because  Dipsas  is  a  black  Saint 

Dar,  Very  wisely :  but  pray  thee,  Epi^  how  art  thou  complet  ? 
35  and  beeing  from  thy  Maister  what  occupation  wilt  thou  take  ? 

Epi,   Know  my  harts,  I  am  an  absolute  Microcosmus,  a  pettie 
worlde  of  my  selfe,  my  library  is  my  heade,  for  I  haue  no  other    ^ 
bookes  but  my  braines :  my  wardrope  on  my  backe,  for  I  haue  no 
more  apparrell  then  is  on  my  body  j  my  armorie  at  my  fingers  ends, 

s.  D.  [Enter  Epiton]  inserted  here  by  Bak,  14  base-conceited]  base,  con- 

ceited Bak,  wrongly       24-7  The  beggar  Loue  .  .  .  fodge]  so  arranged  F,  Bak, : 
first  as  verse  DiL  31  bath  om,  F.  Bak,  32  sole]  soule  Q  33 

Sannce  so  all  36  Know  Bak, :  No  all  other  eds,  39  hnger  ends  Bh  F, : 

fingers'  end  Bak, 


'J 


S6  ENDIMION  [act  iv 

for  I  vse  no  other  Artillarie  then  my  nailes ;  my  treasure  in  my  purse.  40 
Stc  omnia  mea  mecum  porto. 

Dar.   Good ! 

Epi,  Know^  syrs,  my  Pallace  is  pau'd  with  grasse^  and  tyled  with 
starres :  for  ccelo  tegitur  qui  non  habei  vmam^  he  that  hath  no  house, 
must  lie  in  the  yard.  45 

Sam,   A  braue  resolution.     But  how  wilt  thou  spend  thy  time  ? 

Epi,  Not  in  any  Melancholie  sort :  for  mine  exercise  I  will  walke 
horses.  • 

Dar,   Too  bad. 

Epi.  Why  is  it  not  saide :  It  is  good  walking  when  one  hath  his  ffi 
horse  in  his  hand  ? 

Sam,   Worse,  and  worse !  but  how  wilt  thou  liue  ? 

Epi,  By  angling :  O  tis  a  stately  occupation  to  stande  foure  houres 
in  a  colde  Morning,  and  to  haue  his  nose  bytten  with  frost,  before  hys 
baite  be  mumbled  with  a  Fish.  55 

Dar.   A  rare  attempt,  but  wilt  thou  neuer  trauell  ? 

Epi.  Yes  in  a  Westeme  barge,  when  with  a  good  winde  and  lustie 
pugges  one  may  goe  ten  miles  in  two  daies. 

Sam.  Thou  art  excellent  at  thy  choyse,  but  what  pastime  wilt  thou 
vse,  none  ?  60 

Epi.   Yes  the  quickest  of  all. 

Sam,   What!  dyce? 

Epi.  No,  when  I  am  in  hast,  xxj  games  at  Chesse,  to  passe  a  fewe 
minutes. 

Dar.   A  life  for  a  little  Lord,  and  full  of  quicknesse.  65 

Epi.  Tush,  let  mee  alone  !  but  I  must  needes  see  if  I  can  finde 

where  Endimion  lieth :  and  then  goe  to  a  certaine  fountaine  hard  by, 

where  they  say  faithfull  Louers  shall  haue  althings  they  will  aske. 

If  I  can  finde  out  any  of  these,  ego  et  Magister  meus  erimus  in  tuto^ 

I  and  my  Maister  shall  be  freendes.     He  is  resolued  to  weep  some  70 

three  or  foure  payle-fuls,  to  auoyde  the  rume  of  loue  that  wambleth 

in  his  stomacke. 

Enter  the  Watch. 

Sam,  Shall  we  neuer  see  thy  Maister,  Darts  f 

Dar,   Yes,  let  vs  goe  nowe,  for  to  morrowe  Cynthia  will  be 

there.  75 

43  Know  Bak. :  tio'w  prtcecUng  eds,  ^4  celo  Q  48  hones,  Dam.  F.  Bah. 
misled  by  Bi.  {sy^,  D  i  a  recto)  where  the  foiUwing  prefix  appears  as  a  catchword  im 
the  same  line  with  horses  53  foure]  all :  query}  for  63  one  and  twentie  BL 
mods.  71  pales  full  Dil. :  pailMi  Bah,       rheume  Bl.  F,  Bak, :  theme  DiL 


■\ 


\ 


sc.  ii]  ENDIMION  S7 

Epi,   I  will  goe  with  you.     But  howe  shall  wee  see  for  the 
Watch  ? 

Sam,  Tush,  let  me  alone !    He  begin  to  them.     Maisters  God 
speede  you. 
So      I  Watch.  Sir  boy,  we  are  all  sped  alreadie. 

Epi,  {aside).   So  me  thinks,  for  they  smell  all  of  drinke,  like 
a  beggers  beard. 

Dar.   But  I  pray  sirs,  may  we  see  Endimion  f 

2  Watch.   No,  we  are  commanded  in  Cynthtas  name  that  no  man 
85  shall  see  him. 

Sam.  No  man  ?    Why  we  are  but  boyes. 

1  Watch.   Masse,  neighbours,  hee  sayes  true ;  for  if  I  sweare  I  will 
neuer  drinke  my  liquor  by  the  quart,  and  yet  call  for  two  pints,  I      V 
thinke  with  a  safe  conscience  I  may  carouse  both. 

90      Dar.   Pithily,  and  to  the  purpose. 

2  Watch.   Tush,  tush,  neighbors,  take  me  with  you. 
Sam.  This  will  grow  bote. 
Dar.  Let  them  alone. 
2  Watch.   If  I  saie  to  my  wife,  wife  I  will  haue  no  Reysons  in  my 

95  pudding,  she  puts  in  Corance,  smal  Reysons  are  Reysons,  and  boyes 
are  men.     Euen  as  my  wife  shoulde  haue  put  no  Reysons  in  my 
pudding,  so  shall  there  no  boyes  see  Endimion. 
Dar*  Learnedly. 

Epi.   Let  Maister  Constable  speake :   I  thinke  hee  is  the  wisest 
100  among  you. 

Ma.  Canst.   You  know  neighbors  tis  an  old  said  saw,  'children 
and  fooles  speake  true.' 
All  say.  True. 

Ma.  Const.  Well,  there  you  see  the  men  bee  the  fooles,  because 
105  it  is  prouided  from  the  children. 
Dar.  Good. 

Ma.  Const.  Then  say  I  neighbors,  that  children  must  not  see 
Endimion^  because  children  &  fooles  speak  true. 
Epi.   O  wicked  application  ! 
110      Sam.   Scuruily  brought  about ! 

I  Watch.   Nay  he  sais  true,  &  therfore  till  Cynthia  haue  beene 
heere  he  shall  not  be  vncouered.    Therefore  away  ! 

S.D.  [aside]  supplied DU.  95  Corancel  currants  DiL  Bak.  loi  on] 

an  an  Q  loi-a  no  inv.  commas  Q  Bl.  DiL  :  itai.  F.  103  All  say  Q 

BL  F. :  All  J)il.  Bak. :  rf.  note 


58  ENDIMION  [act  iv 

Dar,  {aside  to  Sam.  and  £pi.).  A  watch,  quoth  you?  a  man  may 
watch  7.  yeres  for  a  wise  worde,  &  yet  goe  without  it    Their  wits 
are  all  as  rustie  as  their  bils. — But  come  on  Ma.  Const,  shall  we  haue  115 
a  song  before  we  goe  ? 

Const.  With  all  my  hart. 

The  second  Song. 

Watch,  CTand:  who  goes  there? 

We  charge  you,  appeare 
Fore  our  Constable  here.  120 

(In  the  name  of  the  Man  in  the  Moone) 
To  vs  Bilmen  relate, 
Why  you  stagger  so  late, 
And  how  you  come  drunke  so  soone. 
Pages,  What  are  yee  (scabs?) 

Watch,  The  Watch :  125 

This  the  Constable. 
Pages,  A  Patch. 

Const,   Knock'em  downe  vnlesse  they  all  stand. 

If  any  run  away, 
Tis  the  old  Watchmans  play. 
To  reach  him  a  Bill  of  his  hand.  150 

Pages,  O  Gentlemen  hold^ 

Your  gownes  freeze  with  cold,   . 
And  your  rotten  teeth  dance  in  your  B^ad ; 
Epi,  Wine,  nothing  shall  cost  yee. 

Sam,  Nor  huge  fires  to  roast  yee.  135 

Dares,   Then  soberly  let  vs  be  led. 
Const,  Come  my  browne  Bils  wee*l  roare, 

Bownce  loud  at  Taueme  dore, 
Omnes,   And  i*th'  Morning  steale  all  to  bed. 

Exeunt. 

SCiENA    Tertia. — (^The    Grove^  with  Endxmxon  slewing  on  the 

lunary-bank  {with  double  transfer^  to  Gardens  1.  44,  back  to 

Grove  1.  75).) 

Corsites  solus. 

Corsites,  I  am  come  in  sight  of  the  Lunary  bank :  without  doubt 
Tellus  doteth  vpon  me,  and  cunningly  that  I  might  not  perceiue  her 
loue,  shee  hath  sette  mee  to  a  taske  that  is  done  before  it  is  begunne. 

114  7.  Q:  leaen  BL  rest  s.D.  Thr  second  Song  so  Blount,  from  whom 

it  is  here  given,    Q  Song  without  giving  it  124  came  Dit,  130  himl 

them  Dil,  s.  D.  Extuni  ^ntal  in  BL  F.  before  songi  om,  DiL 


sc  III]  ENDIMION  S9 

Endimiofty  you  must  change  your  pillowe ;  and  if  you  be  not  wearie 
5  of  sleepe,  I  will  carrie  you  where  at  ease  you  shall  sleepe  your  fill. 
It  were  good  that  without  more  ceremonies  I  tooke  him,  least,  beeing 
espyed,  I  be  intrapt,  and  so  incurre  the  displeasure  of  Cynthia^  who 
commonly  setteth  watch  that  Endimion  haue  no  wrong. 

He  lifts. 
What  nowe,  is  your  Maistership   so  heauie?   or   are  you   nayld 

lo  to  the  ground  ?  Not  styrre  one  whit  ?  then  vse  all  thy  force 
though  he  feele  it  and  wake.  What !  stone  still  ?  turnd,  I  thinke, 
to  earth,  with  lying  so  long  on  the  earth.  Didst  not  thou,  Corsites^ 
before  Cynthia  pul  vp  a  tree,  that  fortie  yeeres  was  fastned  with 
rootes  and  wrethed  in  knots  to  the  grounde?     Didst  not  thou 

15  with  maine  force  pull  open  the  yron  Gates,  which  no  Ram  or  Engine 
could  moue  ?    Haue  my  weak  thoughts  made  braunfallen  my  strong        ^  . 
armes?  or  is  it  the  nature  of  loue  or  the  Quintessence  of  the  mind   /^^-^"^^  ^ 
to  breede  numnesse,  or  lythemesse,  or  I  knowe  not  what  lanjg[uishing 
in  my  loynts  and  sinewes,  beeing  but  the  base  strings  of  my  bodie? 

ao  Or  dooth  the  remembraunce  of  Tellus  so  refine  my  spirits  into 

a  matter  so  subtill  and  diuine,  that  the  other  fieshie  parts  cannot 

worke  whilst  they  muse  ?    Rest  thy  selfe,  rest  thy  selfe :  nay,  rent 

thy  selfe  in  peeces  Corsites^  and  striue  in  spight  of  loue,  fortune,  and 

nature,  to  lift  vppe  this  dulled  bodie,  heauier  then  deade,  and  more 

35  sencelesse  then  death. 

Enter  Fayries. 

But  what  are  these  so  fayre  fiendes  that  cause  my  ha3n'es  to  stand 
vpright,  and  spirits  to  fall  downe?  Hags — out  alas !  Nymphes  ! — 
I  craue  pardon.    Aye  me,  out !  what  doe  I  heere  ? 

The  Fayries  daunce^  and  with  a  song  pinch  hitn^  and  hee  falleth 

a  sleepe :  they  kisse  Endimion,  and  depart. 

The  third  Song  by  Fairies. 
Omnes,  ID  Inch  him,  pinch  him,  blacke  and  blue, 

30  Sawcie  mortalls  must  not  view 

What  the  Queene  of  Stars  is  doing, 
Nor  pry  into  our  Fairy  woing. 

s.  D.  He  Ms.  Q  BL :  He  tries  to  lift  Endymion  Dil.  F,  Bak.  1 2  thou  not  F. 

Bak.  18  Dimmesse  Q  BL :  mumnesse  F. :  numbness  DiL  Bak,  what] 

what,  Q  BL  ao  so  om,  DiL  22  rent]  rend  DiL  Bak,  27-8  Hags  . .  .  I  *] 
hags,  out  alas,  Nymphes  I  Q  BL  F. :  Hags,  out  I — Alas !  nymphs,  I  Dil,  Bak.  28 
Aye]  Ah  DiL  out !  what  DiL  :  out  what  Q  BL  :  but  what  F.  Bak,  heere? 
Q  BL  F.  i.e.  hear  as  DiL  Bak,  s.  D.  The  Fayries  daunce  &c.]  Q  BL  DiL  F,  : 

but  Q  kas  no  further  direction  for  the  song,  nor  the  song  itself  which  is  given 
from  BL  announced  as  in  the  text  they]  thy  Q 


6o  ENDIMION  [act  iv 

1  Fairy,  Pinch  him  blue. 

2  Fairy.  And  pinch  him  blacke. 

3  Fairy.  Let  him  not  lacke  35 

Sharpe  nailes  to  pinch  him  blue  and  red. 
Till  sleepe  has  rock*d  his  addle  head. 

4  Fairy.         For  the  trespasse  hee  hath  done, 

Spots  ore  all  his  flesh  shall  runne. 

Kisse  Endimion^  kisse  his  eyes,  4^ 

Then  to  our  Midnight  Heidegyes. 

Exeunt  {leaving  Endimion  and  CORSITES  sleeping). 

{Enter)  Cynthia,  Floscula,  Semele,  Panelion,  Zontes, 

Pythagoras,  Gyptes. 

Cynth.  You  see  Pythagoras  what  ridiculous  opinions  you  bold, 
and  I  doubt  not  but  you  are  nowe  of  another  minde. 

Pythag.   Madam,  I  plainlie  perceiue  that  the  perfection  of  your 
brightnesse  hath  pearced  through  the  thicknesse  that  couered  my  45 
minde ;  in  so  much  that  I  am  no  lesse  gladde  to  be  reformed^  then 
ashamed  to  remember  my  grosenes. 

Gyptes.  They  are  thrise  fortunate  that  Hue  in  your  Pallace,  where 
Trueth  is  not  in  colours^  but  life,  vertues  not  in  imagination,  but 
execution.  50 

Cynth.  I  have  alwaies  studied  to  haue  rather  liuing  vertues  then 
painted  Gods ;  the  bodie  of  Trueth,  then  the  tombe.  But  let  vs 
walke  to  Endimion^  it  may  bee  it  lyeth  in  your  Artes  to  deliuer  him: 
as  for  EumenideSy  I  feare  he  is  dead. 

Pythag.   I  haue  alledged  all  the  naturall  reasons  I  can  fcnr  such  55 
a  long  sleepe. 

Gyptes.   I  can  doe  nothing  till  I  see  him. 

Cynth.  Come  Floscula y  I  am  sure  you  are  glad  that  you  shall 
behold  Endimion. 

Flosc.   I  were  blessed  if  I  might  haue  him  recouered.  60 

Cynth.   Are  you  in  loue  with  his  person  ? 

Flosc.    No,  but  with  his  vertue. 

Cynth.   What  say  you,  Semele  f 

Sem.   Madame,  I  dare  say  nothing  for  feare  I  ofTende. 

Cynth.   Belike  you  cannot  speake   except  you   bee  spightfiilL  65 
But  as  good  be  silent  as  saucie.    Panelion,  what  punishment  were 

s.  D.  [leaving  . . .  Corsites  &c.]  Q  Bl.  F.  add  Corsites  to  the  nucdeding  Hsi 
of  entries :  Corsites  sleeping  Dil.  Bak,  s.  D.  Zontb  BL  Dil.  F. 


sciii]  ENDIMION  6i 

fitte  for  Semele^  in  whose  speech  and  thoughts  is  onely  contempt 
and  sowrenesse? 

Panel   I  loue  not  Madam  to  giue  any  iudgement.     Yet  sith  your 
70  highnesse  commaundeth,    I  thinke,   to  commit  her  tongue  close  ^^         r/j^ 


prisoner  to  her  mouth.  ^-^ 

Cynth.   Agreed ;  Semele^  if  thou  speake  thys  twelue-month,  thou  /  ^  *^ 


f   A 


A 


shalt  forfet  thy  tongue. — Behold  EndimionI  alas,  poore  Gentleman,      ' " '      J\ 
hast  thou  spent  thy  youth  in  sleepe,  that  once  vowed  all  to  my     ^ '  ^  .^^»>^^'^ 

75  seruice?  Hollow  eyes?  gray  haires?  wrinckled  cheekes?  and 
decayed  limmes  ?  Is  it  destinie,  or  deceite  that  hath  brought  this 
to  passe?  If  the  first,  who  could  preuent  thy  wretched  starres? 
If  the  latter,  I  would  I  might  knowe  thy  cruell  enemie.  I  fauoured 
thee  Endimion  for  thy  honor,  thy  vertues,  thy  affections :  but  to  bring 

80  thy  thoughts  within  the  compasse  of  thy  fortunes,  I  haue  seemed 
strange,  that  I  might  haue  thee  staied;  and  nowe  are  thy  dayes 
ended  before  my  fauour  beginne  ?  But  whom  haue  we  heere  ?  is  it 
not  Corsitesf  • 

Zon.   It  is ;  but  more  like  a  Leopard  then  a  man. 

85  Cynth,  Awake  him.  (Zontes  wo^^^wj  Corsites.)  Howe  nowe, 
CorsiUSy  what  make  you  heere  ?  How  came  you  deformed  ?  Looke 
on  thy  hands,  and  then  thou  seest  the  picture  of  thy  face. 

Cors,  Myserable  wretch,  and  accursed.  How  am  I  deluded? 
Madame,  I  aske  pardon  for  my  offence,  and  you  see  my  fortune 

90  deserueth  pittie. 

Cynth,  Speake  on,  thy  offence  cannot  deserue  greater  punishment : 
but  see  thou  rehearse  the  trueth,  else  shalt  thou  not  find  me  as  thou 
wishest  me. 

Cors,   Madam,  as  it  is  no  offence  to  be  in  loue  beeing  a  man 

95  mortall,  so  I  hope  can  it  be  no  shame  to  tell  with  whom,  my  Ladie 
beeing  heauenlie.  Your  Maiestie  committed  to  my  charge  fayre 
TelluSy  whose  beautie  in  the  same  moment  tooke  my  hart  captiue, 
that  I  vndertooke  to  carry  her  bodie  prisoner.  Since  that  time 
haue  I  found  such  combats  in  my  thoughts  betweene  loue  and  dutie, 
100  reuerence  and  affection,  that  I  coulde  neyther  endure  the  conflict, 
nor  hope  for  the  conquest. 

Cynth,  In  loue  ?  A  thing  farre  vnfitting  the  name  of  a  Captaine, 
and  (as  I  thought)  the  tough  and  vnsmoothed  nature  of  Corsites, 
But  forth. 

69  any]  my  Dil,  79  but]  but,  Bak,  wrongly  s.  D.  [ZONTES  &c.] 

supplied  Bak,  96  the  before  faire  F,  Bak, 


/ 


62  ENDIMION  [act  iv 

Cors,    Feeling  this  continuall  warre,  I  thought  rather  by  parlee  to  105 

yeeld,  then  by  certaine  danger  to  perrish.     I  vnfolded  to  Tellus  the 

depth  of  my  affections,  and  framed  my  tongue  to  vtter  a  sweet  tale 

of  loue,  that  was  wont  to  sound  nothing  but  threats  of  warre,     Shee 

^      •'      too  fayre  to  be  true,  and  too  false  for  one  so  fayre,  after  a  nice 

deniall,  practised  a  notable  deceyt;  commaunding  mee  to  remooue  no 
Endimion  from  this  Caban,  and  carrie  him  to  some  darke  Caue; 
which  I  seeking  to  accomplish,  found  imppssible ;  and  so  by  Fayries 
or  fiendes  haue  beene  thus  handled. 

Cynth,  Howe  say  you,  my  Lordes,  is  not  Tellus  alwaies  practising 
of  some  deceites?  In  sooth  Corsites^  thy  face  is  nowe  too  foule  for  115 
a  Louer,  and  thine  hart  too  fonde  for  a  Souldiour.  You  may  see, 
when  Warriors  become  wantons,  howe  theyr  manners  alter  with 
theyr  faces.  Is  it  not  a  shame  Corsites^  that  hauing  liued  so  long  in 
Mars  his  Campe  thou  shouldest  now  bee  rockt  in  Venus  Cradle? 
Doost  thou  weare  Cupids  Quiuer  at  thy  gyrdle,  and  make  Launces  i^o 
of  lookes  ?.  Well  Corsites,  rouse  thy  selfe,  and  be  as  thou  hast  beene ; 
and  let  Tellus  who  is  made  all  of  loue,  melt  herselfe  in  her  owne 
loosenes. 

Cors.   Madam,  I  doubt  not  but  to  recouer  my  former  state ;  for 
Tellus  beautie  neuer  wrought  such  loue  in  my  minde,  as  now  her  125 
deceite  hath  dispight ;  and  yet  to  be  reuenged  of  a  woman,  were 
a  thing  then  loue  it  selfe  more  womanish. 

Gyptes,  These  spots  Gentleman  are  to  be  worne  out,  if  you  nibbe 
them  ouer  with  this  Lunarie ;  so  that  in  place  where  you  receiued  this 
maime,  you  shall  finde  a  medicine.  i^o 

Cors.  I  thanke  you  for  that.  The  Gods  blesse  mee  frO  loue  &  these 
prettie  Ladies  that  haunt  this  greene. 

Fbsc,    Corsites^  I  would  Tellus  saw  your  amiable  face, 

ZonL    How  spightfully  Semele  laugheth,  that  dare  not  speake. 

Cynth,    Coulde  you  not  stirre  Endimion  with  that  doubled  strength  155 
of  yours  ? 

Cors,    Not  so  much  as  his  finger  with  all  my  force. 

Cynth,  Pythagoras  and  Gyptes^  what  thinke  you  of  Endimion  t 
what  reason  is  to  be  giuen,  what  remedie  ? 

jyth,   Madame  it  is  impossible  to  yeeld  reason  for  things  that  140 
happen  not  in  compasse  of  nature.     It  is  most  certaine^  that  some 
strange  enchauntment  hath  bound  all  his  sences. 

107  depths  Dtl.  119  Mars  his]  Mars'  Dil. :  Mare's  BaJk,  126  hath]  and 
Dil.         128  gentlemen  F,         129  the  de/org  ^U/cc  Dil.  BaJk,         130  maine  Q 


sc  III]  ENDIMION  63 

Cynth,   What  say  you,  Gyptes  f 

Gyptes,    With  Pythagoras^  that  it  is  enchauntment,  and  that  so 

145  strange  that  no  Arte  can  vndoe  it,  for  that  heauines  argueth  a  mallice 

vnremooueable  in  the  Enchauntresse ;  and  that  no  power  can  ende 

it,  till  shee  die  that  did  it,  or  the  heauens  shew  some  meanes  more 

then  miraculous. 

Flo5€»  O  Endimion^  could  spight  it  self  deuise  a  mischiefe  so 
J5<>  monstrous  as  to  makelhee  dead  with  life,  and  lyuing  beeing  altogether 
dead?  Where  others  number  their  yeeres,  their  houres,  their 
minutes,  and  steppe  to  age  by  staires,  thou  onely  hast  thy  yeeres 
and  times  in  a  cluster,  being  olde  before  thou  remembrest  thou  wast 
younge. 
155  Cynth,  No  more  Floscula^  pittie  dooth  him  no  good :  I  would 
any  thing  els  might,  and  I  vowe  by  the  vnspotted  honour  of  a  Ladie 
he  should  not  misse  it :  but  is  this  all  Giptes,  that  is  to  be  done  ? 

Gyptes,   All  as  yet.     It  may  be  that  either  the  Enchauntresse  shall 

dye,  or  els  be  discouered :  if  either  happen,  I  will  then  practise  the 

160  vtmost  of  my  arte.     In  the  meane  season,  about  this  Groue  would 

I  haue  a  watch,  and  the  first  liuing  thing  that  toucheth  Endimion^ 

to  be  taken. 

Cynth,    Carsites  what  say  you,  will  you  vndertake  this  ? 
Cars.   Good  Madame,  pardon  mee !     I  was  ouertaken  too  late. 
165  I  should  rather  breake  into  the  middest  of  a  maine  battaile,  than 
againe  fall  into  the  handes  of  those  fayre  babies. 

Cynth,   Well,  I  will  prouide  others.     Pithagoras  and  Giptes^  you 
shall  yet  remaine  in  my  Courte,  till  I  heare  what  may  be  done  in  this 
matter. 
170*    jyth.  Wee  attende. 

Cynth,   Let  vs  goe  in^  Exeunt, 

ACTUS  QUINTUS 

SCiENA  Prima. — (^The  Grave^  with  Endimion  sleeping  as  before.") 

(Enter}  Samias,  Dares. 

Sam.  i?  Vmenides  hath  tolde  such  strange  tales  as  I  may  well  wonder 
at  them,  but  neuer  beleeue  them. 
Z>ar,   The  other  old  man,  what  a  sad  speech  vsed  he,  that 
caused  vs  almost  all  to  weepe.     Cynthia  is  so  desirous  to  knowe  the 

148  then  Q  only  165  would  Dil,  166  in  ViU 


64  ENDIMION  [act  v 

experiment  of  her  owne  vertue,  and  so  willing  to  ease  Endimions  5 
harde  fortune,  that  she  no  sooner  heard  the  discourse,  but  shee 
made  her  selfe  in  a  readines  to  trye  the  euent. 

Sam,  Wee  will  also  see  the  euent ;  but  whist !  heere  commeth 
Cynthia^  with  all  her  traine !     Let  vs  sneake  in  amongst  them. 

Enter  Cynthia,  Floscula,  Semele,  Eumenides,  Panelion,  &c 

Cynth,   Eumenides,  it  cannot  sinke  into  my  heade  that  I  should  10 
bee  signified  by  that  sacred  Fountaine,  for  many  thinges  are  there  in 
the  worlde  to  which  those  words  may  be  applyed. 

Eum,  Good  Madame  vouchsafe  but  to  trye,  els  shall  I  thinke  my 
selfe  most  vnhappie,  that  I  asked  not. my  sweete  Mistris. 

Cynth.   Will  you  not  yet  tell  me  her  name?  15 

Eum.  Pardon  mee  good  Madame,  for  if  Endimion  awake,  bee 
shall :  my  selfe  haue  sworne  neuer  to  reueale  it. 

Cynth.  Well,  let  vs  to  Endimion.  I  will  not  be  so  statelie  (good 
Endimion)not  to  stoope  to  doe  thee  good :  and  if  thy  libertie  consist 
in  a  kisse  from  mee,  thou  shalt  haue  it.  And  although  my  mouth  ao 
hath  beene  heere  tofore  as  vntouched  as  my  thoughts,  yet  now  to 
recouer  thy  life,  (though  to  restore  thy  youth  it  be  impossible)  I  will 
do  that  to  Endimion  which  yet  neuer  mortall  man  coulde  host  of 
heretofore,  nor  shall  euer  hope  for  heereafter. 

Shee  kisseth  him, 

Eum.   Madame,  hee  beginneth  to  stirre.  25 

Cynth.   Soft  Eumenides^  stand  still. 

Eum.   Ah,  I  see  his  eyes  almost  open. 

Cynth.  I  commaund  thee  once  againe,  stirre  not:  I  wil  stand 
behinde  him. 

Fan.   AVhat  doe  I  see,  Endimiotk  almost  awake  ?  30 

Eum.  Endimion  !  Endimion  I  art  thou  deafe  or  dumbe  ?  or  hath 
this  long  sleepe  taken  away  thy  memorie  ?  Ah  my  sweet  Endimion^ 
seest  thou  not  Eumenides  ?  thy  faithful  friende,  thy  i^yihiyiVi Eumenides^ 
who  for  thy  saftie  hath  beene  carelesse  of  his  owne  content.  Speake 
Endimion!  Endimion/  Endimion/  35 

End.    Endimion  f    I  call  to  minde  such  a  name. 

Eum.  Hast  thou  forgotten  thy  selfe,  Endimion?  then  do  I  not 
maruell  thou    remembrest    not  thy  friend.      I  tell  thee  thou  art 

7  a  om.  Dil.  8  will!  Q  s.  D.  EuMENmES,  Panblton,  &c]  Bah.  first 

inserts  the  needed  Eumenides,  and  needlessly  substitutes  for  *  &c.    2U>ictbs, 
Pythagoras,  and  Gyptes 


sc  i]  ENDIMION  6s 

Endimian^  and  I  Eumenides :  beholdealso  Cynthia^  by  whose  fauour 
40  thou  art  awaked,  and  by  whose  vertue  thou  shalt  continue  thy  naturall 

course. 

Cynth,  Endimian^  speake  sweete  Endimian^  knowest  thou  not 

Cynthia  t 
End.  O  heauens,  whom  doe  I  beholde?  faire  Cynihiay  diuine 
45  Cynthia  t 

Cynth.   I  am  Cynthia^  and  thou  Endimion, 

End.  Endimion t     What  do  I   heere?    What,   a  gray  beard? 

hollow  eyes?   withered  bodie?   decayed  lymbes?   and  all  in  one 

night? 
50     Eum.   One  night?  thou  hast  heere  slept  fortie  yeeres,  by  what 

Enchauntresse  as  yet  it  is  not  knowne:   and  behold,  the  twig  to 

which  thou  laiedst  thy  head,  is  now  become  a  tree.    Callest  thou 

not  Eumenides  to  remembrance  ? 

End.   Thy  name  I  doo  remember  by  the  sounde,  but  thy  fauour 
55  I  doe  not  yet  call  to  minde :  onely  diuine  Cynthia,  to  whom  time, 

fortune,  destinie,  &  death,  are  subiect,  I  see  and  remember^  and  in 

all  humilitie  I  regard  and  reuerence. 

Cynth.  You  haue  good  cause  to  remember  Eumenides,  who  hath 

for  thy  safetie  forsaken  his  ownc  solace. 
^     End.   Am  I  that  Endimion  who  was  wont  in  Court  to  leade  my 

life,  and  in  lustes,  turneys,  and  armes  to  exercise  my  youth  ?   am 

I  that  Endimion  f 
Eum.  Thou  art  that  Endimion,  and  I  Eumenides,  wilt  thou  not 

yet  call  me  to  remembrance? 
65      End.   Ah  sweete  Eumenides,  I  now  perceiue  thou  art  hee,  and 

that  my  selfe  haue  the  name  of  Endimion;  but  that  this  should  bee 

my  bodie  I  doubt :  for  howe  coulde  my  curled  lockes  bee  turned  to 

gray  haires,  and  my  stronge  bodie  to  a  dying  weaknesse,  hauing 

waxed  olde  and  not  knowing  it. 
70      Cynth.  Well  Endimion  arise,  a  while  sit  downe,  for  that  thy 

limmes  are  stifle,  and  not  able  to  stay  thee,  and  tell  what  hast  thou 

scene  in  thy  sleepe  all  this  while  ?    What  dreames,  visions,  thoughts, 

and  fortunes?    For  it  is  impossible,  but  in  so  long  time,  thou 

shouldest  see  things  straunge. 
75      End.   Fayre  Cynthia,  I  will  rehearse  what  L  haue  scene,  humblie 

desiring  that  when  I  exceede  in  length  you  giue  me  warning,  that 

47  heere  Q  Bl  F. :  hemr  Dil.  Bah,  with  dmbtful propriety  What,  Q  Bl. 

What  I  Dil. :  F,  om.  comma        68  a  om.  F.        70,  71  thy  limmes  J  my  limbes  F. 

BOND   III  F 


66  ENDIMION  [actv 

I  may  ende :  for  to  vtter  all  I  haue  to  speake  would  bee  troublesome, 
although  happilie  the  straungenesse  may  somewhat  abate  the  tedious- 
nesse. 

Cynth,   Well  Endimion  begin.  80 

End,  Me  thought  I  sawe  a  Ladie  passing  faire,  but  verie  mis- 
cheeuous ;  who  in  the  one  hande  carryed  a  knife  with  which  shee 
offered  to  cut  my  throte,  and  in  the  other  a  looking-glasse,  wherein 
,  seeing  how  ill  anger  became  Ladies,  shee  refrained  from  intended 
■  violence.  She  was  accompanied  with  other  Damsels,  one  of  which  85 
with  a  Sterne  countenance,  &  as  it  were  with  a  setled  malice  en- 
grauen  in  her  eyes,  prouoked  her  to  execute  mischeefe:  an  other 
with  visage  sad  and  constant  onelie  in  sorrow,  with  her  armes  crossed^ 
and  watery  eyes,  seemed  to  lament  my  fortune,  but  durst  not  offer 
to  preuent  the  force.  I  started  in  my  sleepe,  feehng  my  verie  veines  9° 
to  swell,  and  my  sinewes  to  stretch  with  feare,  and  such  a  colde 
sweate  bedewed  all  my  bodie,  that  death  it  selfe  could  not  be  so 
terrible  as  the  vision. 

Cynth,   A  straunge  sight.     Giptes  at  our  better  leysure  shall  ex- 
pound it.  95 

End,  After  long  debating  with  her  selfe,  mercie  ouercame  anger ; 
and  there  appeared  in  her  heauenly  face  such  a  diuine  Maiestie, 
mingled  with  a  sweete  mildenes,  that  I  was  rauished  with  the  sight 
aboue  measure,  and  wished  that  I  might  haue  enioied  the  sight 
without  end ;  and  so  she  departed  with  the  other  Ladyes,  of  which  100 
the  one  retained  still  an  vnmoueable  crueltie,  the  other  a  constant 
pittie. 

Cynth,   Poore  Efidimion^  how  wast  thou  affrighted  ?  What  els  ? 

End,  After  her  immediatly  appeared  an  aged  man  with  a  beard 
as  white  as  snow,  carying  in  his  hand  a  book  with  three  leaues,  ^^5 
&  speaking  as  I  remSber  these  words.  Endimion^  receiue  this  booke 
with  three  leaues,  in  which  are  contained  coimsels,  policies,  and 
pictures :  and  with  that  he  offered  mee  the  booke,  which  I  reiected : 
wherwith,  moued  with  a  disdainefull  pittie,  hee  rent  the  first  leafe  in 
a  thousand  shiuers;  the  second  time  hee  offered  it,  which  I  refused  ^^^ 
also ;  at  which  bending  his  browes,  and  pitching  his  eyes  fast  to  the 
ground,  as  though  they  were  fixed  to  the  earth,  and  not  againe  to 
be  remoued — then  sodainlie  casting  them  vp  to  the  heauens,  he  tore 
in  a  rage  the  second  leafe,  and  offered  the  booke  only  with  one 
leafe.     I  know  not  whether  feare  to  offende,  or  desire  to  knowe  115 

9a  all  9m,  Dill,  loi  an  om,  Dil,  105  and  before  carrying  DiL 


sc.  i]  ENDIMION  67 

some  strange  thing,  moued  mee :  I  tooke  the  booke,  and  so  the  olde 
man  vanished. 

Cynth.   What  diddest  thou  imagine  was  in  the  last  leafe? 

End,   There  portraid  to  life^  with  a  colde  quaking  in  euery  ioynt, 

1 30  I  behelde  many  wolues  barking  at  thee  Cynthiay  who  hauing  ground 
their  teeth  to  bite,  did  with  striuing  bleede  themselues  to  death. 
There  might  I  see  ingratitude  with  an  hundred  eyes,  gazing  for        ^^ 
benefites^  and  with  a  thousand  teeth,  gnawing  on  the  bowelles  where- 
in shee  was  bred.     Trecherie  stoode  all  cloathed  in  white,  with      ^ 

125  a  smyling  countenance,  but  both  her  handes   bathed  in  blood.     ^ 
Enuye  with  a  pale  and  megar  face  (whose  bodie  was  so  leane,  that 
one  might  tell  all  her  bones,  and  whose  garment  was  so  totterd,  that 
it  was  easie  to  number  euery  thred)  stood  shooting  at  starres,  whose 
dartes  fell  downe  againe  on  her  owne  face.     There  might  I  beholde 

130  Drones,  or  Beetles,  I  knowe  not  howe  to  terme  them,  creeping  vnder 
the  winges  of  a  princely  Eagle,  who  being  carried  into  her  neast, 
sought  there  to  sucke  that  veine,  that  woulde  haue  killed  the  Eagle. 
I  mused  that  thinges  so  base,  shoulde  attempt  a  facte  so  barbarous,  ^  ^ 
or  durst  imagine  a  thing  so  bloody.     And  manie  other  thinges      . '  ■ 

135  Madame,  the  repeticion  whereof  may  at  your  better  leysure  seeme 
more  pleasing:   for  Bees  surfette  sometimes  with  honnie,  and  the        s 
Gods  are  glutted  with  harmony^  and  your  highnesse  may  be  dulled 
with  delight 

Cynih,  I  am  content  to  bee  dieted,  therefore  lette  vs  in.    Eu- 

140  menides^  see  that  Endimion  bee  well  tended,  least  eyther  eating 
immoderatlie,  or  sleeping  againe  too  long,  hee  fall  into  a  deadly 
surfette,  or  into  his  former  sleepe. 

See  this  also  bee  proclaimed,  that  whosoeuer  will  discouer  this 
practise,  shall  haue  of  Cynthia  infinite  thankes>  and  no  small  re- 

I -4  5  wardes.  Exit 

Elosc,   Ah  Endimion^  none  so  ioyfull  as  Fioscuia  of  thy  restoring. 

Eum.  Yes,  JFIoscuia,  let  Eumenides  be  somewhat  gladder,  and  doe 

not  that  wrong  to  the  setled  friendship  of  a  man,  as  to  compare  it 

with  the  light  affection  of  a  woman.     Ah  my  deere  friend  Endimion^ 

1 50  suffer  mee  to  dye  with  gazing  at  thee. 

End,  Eumenides y  thy  friendshippe  is  immortall,  and  not  to  be 
conceiued  ;  and  thy  good  will,  Fioscuia^  better  then  I  haue  deserued. 
But  let  vs  all  wayte  on  Cynthia :  I  maruell  Semele  speaketh  not 
a  word. 

J 19  I  before  portraid  Q  Bl,     ioynt.  Q        127  all  om,  Dil,      tattered  Dil,  Bak, 

F  2 


3r» 


68  ENDIMION  [actv 

Eum,   Because  if  shee  doe^  shee  loseth  her  tongue. 

End,   But  how  prospereth  your  loue  ? 

Bum,   I  neuer  yet  spake  worde  since  your  sleepe. 

End,   I  doubt  not  but  your  affection  is  olde,  and  your  appetite 
colde. 

Eum,   No  Endimion^  thine  hath  made  it  stronger,  and  nowe  are  i6o 
my  sparkes  growne  to  flames,  and  my  fancies  almost  to  frenzies: 
but  let  vs  foUowe,  and  within  wee  will  debate  all  this  matter  at  large. 

Exeunt. 

SCiENA  Secunda. — (^Gardens  of  the  Palace,) 

Sir  Tophas,  Epiton. 

Top,  Epi^  loue  hath  iustled  my  libertie  from  the  wall,  and  taken 
the  vpper  hand  of  my  reason. 

EpL  Let  mee  then  trippe  vp  the  heeles  of  your  affection,  and 
thrust  your  goodwill  into  the  gutter. 

Top,   No  Epi^  Loue  is  a  Lorde  of  misrule,  and  keepeth  Christmas  5 
in  my  corps. 

EpL  No  doubt  there  is  good  cheere :  what  dishes  of  delight  doth 
his  Lordshippe  feast  you  withal  ? 

Top,  First,  with  a  great  platter  of  plum-porrige  of  pleasure^  wherein 
is  stued  the  mutton  of  mistrust.  10 

EpL   Excellent  loue  lappe. 

Top,  Then  commeth  a  Pye  of  patience,  a  Henne  of  honnie, 
a  Goose  of  gall,  a  Capon  of  care,  and  many  other  Viandes^  some 
sweete  and  some  sowre ;  which  proueth  loue  to  bee,  as  it  was  saide 
of  in  olde  yeeres,  Duke  venenum,  15 

EpL   A  braue  banquet. 

Top.  But  Epiy  I  praye  thee  feele  on  my  chinne,  some  thing 
prycketh  mee.     What  doost  thou  feele  or  see. 

EpL   There  are  three  or  foure  little  haires. 

Top,   I  pray  thee  call  it  my  bearde.     Howe  shall  I  bee  troubled  ao 
when  this  younge  springe  shall  growe  to  a  great  wood ! 

EpL  O,  sir,  your  chinne  is  but  a  quyller  yet,  you  will  be  most 
maiesticall  when  it  is  full  fledge.  But  I  maruell  that  you  loue  JDipsas, 
that  old  Crone. 

x6o  thine]  time  Di/.  161  frenzy  £>i/,  8  with  de/.  withall  BL  mcds. 

9  plnmb  Dil,  1 1  loue  lappe]  love-pap  Bak,  7vho  thinks  the  \  a  printer's 

error        14  and  cm,  Dil.       14-5  as  was  said  of  it  Bak.       23  fledged  Dil.  Bak. 


sen]  ENDIMION  69 

^5       Tofi.   Agnosco  veteris  vestigia  flamma^  1  loue  the  smoke  of  an 
olde  fyre. 
Epi.  Why  shee  is  so  colde^  that  no  fyre  can  thawe  her  thoughts. 
Top.   It  is  an  olde  goose,  Epi^  that  will  eate  no  oates ;  olde  Kine 
will  kicke^  olde  Rats  gnawe  cheese,  and  olde  sackes  will  haue  much 
30  patching :  I  preferre  an  old  Cony  before  a  Rabbet  sucker,  and  an 
ancient  henne  before  a  younge  chicken  peeper. 

Epi,  {aside),    Argumentum    ab    aniiquitatey    My  master   loueth 
anticke  worke. 

Top,   Giue  mee  a  pippin  that  is  withered  like  an  olde  wife. 
35      Epi,   Good,  sir. 

Tap,   Then,  a  contrario  sequitur  argumentum,    Giue  me  a  wife 
that  lookes  like  an  olde  pippin. 

Epi,  {aside).    Nothing  hath  made  my  master  a  foole,  but  flat 
Schollership. 
40      Tcp,   Knowest  thou  not  that  olde  wine  is  best  ? 
Epi,  Yes. 

Top,   And  thou  knowest  that  like  will  be  like  ? 
Epi.   I. 

Top.  And  thou  knowest  that  Venus  loued  the  best  Wine.       '- 
45      Epi.  So. 

Top,  Then  I  conclude,  that  Venus  was  an  olde  woman  in  an  olde 
cuppe  of  wine.     For,  est  Venus  in  vinis,  ignis  in  ignefuit. 

Epi,   O  lepidum  caputs  O  mad  cap  master !    You  were  worthy  to 
winne  Dipsas^  were  shee  as  olde  againe,  for  in  your  loue  you  haue 
5owome  the  nappe  of  your  witte  quite  off,  and  made  it  thredbare. 
But  soft,  who  comes  heere  ? 

{Enter  Samias  and  Dares.) 
Top,   My  solicitors. 

Sam,  All  baile  sir  Tophas,  how  feele  you  your  selfe  ? 
Top.   Statelie  in  euery  ioynt,  which  the  common  people  terme 
55  stifnes.     Doth  Dipsas  stoope?  wyll  shee  yeeld?  will  she  bende? 
Dar,   O  sir  as  much  as  you  would  wish,  for  her  chin  almost 
toucheth  her  knees. 

Epi.   Maister,  she  is  bent  I  warrant  you. 
Top,   What  conditions  doth  she  aske  ? 
60      Sam,  Shee  hath  vowed  shee  will  neuer  loue  anie  that  hath  not 
a  tooth  in  his  head  lesse  then  she. 

s.  D.  [aside]  asides  of  this  scene  first  marked  Dil.  s.  D.   [Enter  &€.] 

supplied  Dil, 


70  ENDIMION  [act  v 

Top.   How  manie  hath  shee  ? 

Dar,   One. 

Epi.   That  goeth  harde  Maister,  for  then  you  must  haue  none. 

Top.   A  small  request,  and  agreeable  to  the  grauitie  of  her  yeeres.  65 
What  shoulde  a  wise  man  doe  with  his  mouth  full  of  bon^.  like  a 
Chamell  house  ?    The  Turtle  true  hath  nere  a  tooth. 

Sam.  (^to  Epi.).  Thy  Maister  is  in  a  notable  vaine,  that  will  loose 
his  teeth  to  be  like  a  Turtle. 

Epi.  {aside  to  Sam.).    Let  him  loose  his  tongue  to,  I  care  not        70 

Dar.  Nay,  you  must  also  haue  no  nayles,  for  shee  long  since  hath 
cast  hers. 

Top.  That  I  yeelde  to  :  what  a  quiet  life  shal  Dipsas  and  I  leade, 
when  wee  can  neither  byte  nor  scratch  !  You  may  see,  youthes,  how 
age  prouides  for  peace.  75 

Sam.  {aside  to  Epi.).  How  shal  we  doe  to  make  him  leaue  his 
loue,  for  we  neuer  spake  to  her  ? 

Dar.  Let  me  alone. — (  To  Sir  Tophas.)  Shee  is  a  notable  Witch, 
and  hath  turnde  her  maide  Bagoa  to  an  Aspen  tree,  for  bewraying 
her  secretes.  80 

Top.  I  honor  her  for  her  cunning ;  for  now  when  I  am  wearie  of 
walking  on  two  legges,  what  a  pleasure  may  she  doe  mee  to  tume  me 
to  some  goodly  Asse,  and  help  mee  to  foure. 

Dar.  Nay,  then  I  must  tell  you  the  troth  :  her  husband  Geron  is 
come  home,  who  this  fifty  yeeres  hath  had  her  to  wife.  85 

Top.  What  doe  I  heare  ?  Hath  she  an  husbande  ?  Goe  to  the 
Sexton,  and  tell  him  desire  is  deade,  and  will  him  to  digge  his 
graue.  O  heauens,  an  husbande  ?  What  death  is  agreeable  to  my 
fortune  ? 

Sam.   Be  not  desperate,  and  we  will  helpe  you  to  find  a  young  90 
Ladie. 

Top.  I  loue  no  grissels ;  they  are  so  brittle,  they  will  cracke  like 
glasse,  or  so  dainty,  that  if  they  bee  touched  they  are  straight  of  the 
fashion  of  waxe :  Animus  maioribus  instat.  I  desire  olde  Matrons. 
What  a  sight  would  it  be  to  embrace  one  whose  hayre  were  as  orient  95 
as  the  pearle  !  whose  teeth  shal  be  so  pure  a  watchet,  that  they  shall 
staine  the  truest  Turkis !  whose  nose  shall  throwe  more  beames  from 
it  then  the  fierie  Carbuncle !  whose  eyes  shall  be  enuirond  about  with 

67  channel  house  Q  68  lose  Dil.  Bak.  70  lose  DiL  Bak,  too 

Bl.  rest         s.  D.  [To  SjR  ToPH  as]  supplied  Bak.  84  is]  has  Dil,  87 

Sexteene  Q  wills  Dil.  89  fortunes  Dil.  95  it  would  be  Di}. 

were]  was  Dil.  96  the  om.  DiL 


sail]  ENDIMION  71 

rednesse  exceeding  the  deepest  Corall !    And  whose  h'ppes  might 
100  compare  with  siluer  for  the  palenesse  !    Such  a  one  if  you  can  help 
me  to,  I  will  by  peece-meale  curtoll  my  affections  towardes  Dipsas, 
and  walke  my  swelling  thoughts  till  they  be  cold. 

Epi.  Wisely  prouided.     How  say  you,  my  freendes,  will  you  angle 
for  my  Maisters  cause  ? 
105      Sam,   Most  willingly. 

Dar,  If  wee  speede  him  not  shortly,  I  will  burne  my  cappe :  we 
will  serue  him  of  the  spades,  and  digge  an  old  wife  out  of  the  graue 
that  shall  be  answerable  to  his  grauitie. 

Tap.   Youthes,  adiew :   hee  that  bringeth  mee  first  newes,  shall 
110  possesse  mine  inheritance.  (^Exit  Sir  Tophas.) 

Dar,   What,  is  thy  Maister  landed  ? 
EpL    Know  you  not  that  my  Maister  is  Liber  tenens  f 
Sam.   What's  that? 

Epi.   A  Free-holder.    But  I  will  after  him. 
115      Sam,   And  wee  to  heare  what  newes  of  Endimion  for  the  con- 
clusion. Exeunt, 

SCiENA  Tertia. — {The  same,} 

(^Enter)  Panelion,  Zontes. 

Pan,   Who  would  haue  thought  that  Tellus  beeing  so  fayre  by 
nature,  so  honourable  by  byrth,  so  wise  by  education^  woulde  haue 
entred  into  a  mischiefe  to  the  Gods  so  odious,  to  men  so  detestable^ 
and  to  her  freend  so  malicious. 
5      Zon,   If  Bagoa  had  not  bewraied  it^  howe  then  shoulde  it  haue 
come  to  light  ?    But  wee  see  that  Golde  and  fayre  words  are  of  force 
to  corrupt  the  strongest  men;  And  therefore  able  to  worke  sillie 
women  like  waxe. 
Pan,   I  maruell  what  Cynthia  will  determine  in  this  cause. 
10      Zon,   I  feare,  as  in  all  causes^  heare  of  it  in  iustice,  and  then  iudge 
of  it  in  mercy  :  for  howe  can  it  be  that  shee  that  is  vnwilling  to  punish 
her  deadliest  foes  with  dysgrace,  will  reuenge  iniuries  of  her  trayne 
with  death. 
Pan,   That  olde  witch  Dipsas^  in  a  rage,  hauing  vnderstoode  her 
15  practise  to  bee  discouered,  turned  poore  Bagoa  to  an  Aspen  tree. 

loi  curtail  Bl,  F, :  curtail  Dil, :  curtal  Bak.  s.  D.  [Exit  Sir  Tophas] 

supplied  Bak,  4  friends /?i/. 


72  ENDIMION  [actv 

But  let  vs  make  hast  and  bring  Tellus  before  Cynthia^  for  she  was 
comming  out  after  vs. 

Zon.   Let  vs  goe.  JSxeunt, 

{Enter)  Cynthia,  Semele,  Floscula,  Dipsas,  Endimion, 
EuMENiDES,  (Geron,  Pvthagoras,  Gvptes,  and 

Sir  Tophas). 

Cynth.   DipsaSy  thy  yeeres  are  not  so  manie  as  thy  vices;  yet 
more  in  number  then  commonly  nature  dooth  affoorde,  or  iustice  20 
shoulde  permit.     Hast  thou  almost  these  fiitie  yeeres  practised  that 
detested  wickednes  of  witchcraft  ?    Wast  thou  so  simple,  as  for  to 
C  r,  'C        know  the  nature  of  Simples,  of  all  creatures  to  be  most  sinfull  ? 

Thou  hast  threatned  to  tume  my  course  awry,  and  alter  by  thy 
damnable  Arte  the  gouernment  that  I  now  possesse  by  the  eternal!  25 
Gods.  But  knowe  thou  Dipsas,  and  let  all  the  Enchaunters  knowe, 
that  Cynthia,  beeing  placed  for  light  on  earth,  is  also  protected  by 
the  powers  of  heauen.  Breath  out  thou  mayst  wordes,  gather  thou 
mayst  hearbes,  finde  out  thou  maist  stones  agreeable  to  thine  Arte, 
yet  of  no  force  to  appall  my  heart,  in  which  courage  is  so  rooted,  30 
and  constant  perswasion  of  the  mercie  of  the  Gods  so  grounded,  that 
all  thy  witch-craft  I  esteeme  as  weake,  as  the  world  dooth  thy  case 
wretched. 

Thys  noble  Gentleman  Geron,  once  thy  husband,  but  nowe  thy 
mortall  hate,  didst  thou  procure  to  lyue  in  a  Deserte,  almost  des-  35 
perate.    Endimion,  the  flowre  of  my  Courte,  and  the  hope  of  suc- 
ceeding time,  hast  thou  bewitched  by  Arte,  before  thou  wouldest 
suffer  him  to  florish  by  nature. 

Dipsas,  Madam,  thinges  past  may  be  repented,  not  recalled : 
there  is  nothing  so  wicked  that  I  haue  not  doone,  nor  any  thing  so  40 
wished  for  as  death.  Yet  among  al  the  things  that  I  committed, 
there  is  nothing  so  much  tormenteth  my  rented  and  ransackt 
thoughts,  as  that  in  the  prime  of  my  husbands  youth  I  diuorced 
him  by  my  deuillish  Arte ;  for  which,  if  to  die  might  be  amendes, 
I  would  not  Hue  till  to  morrowe.  If  to  Hue  and  still  be  more  miser-  45 
able  would  better  content  him,  I  would  wish  of  all  creatures  to  be 
oldest  and  vgliest. 

Geron.  Dipsas,  Thou  hast  made  this  difference  betweene  me  and 

s.D.  [Geron  . . .  Sir  Tophas]  su}}lied  Bak,  aa>3  Wast  thoa  . . .  most 

tinfull  7  so  punctuated  Q  Bl.  F, :  Bak*  om,  comma  at  simple :  DiL  punctuates  . . . 
simple, .  . .  simplest . . .  sinful !  25  that  cm.  DiL  37  a  brf.  light  DH^ 

47  the  before  oldest  DiL 


sc.  Ill]  ENDIMION  73 

Endimion^  that  being  both  young,  thou  hast  caused  mee  to  wake  in 
50  melanchoHe,  loosing  the  ioyes  of  my  youth^  and  hym  to  sleepe^  not 
remembring  youth. 

Cynth,  Stay,  heere  commeth  Tellus :  we  shall  nowe  knowe  all. 

{Re-enter  Panelion  and  Zontes  with  Corsites  and  Tellus.) 

Cars.  I  woulde  to  Cynthia  thou  couldest  make  as  good  an  excuse 
in  truth,  as  to  me  thou  hast  done  by  wit 

55  Tellus.  Truth  shall  be  mine  answere,  and  therefore  I  will  not 
studie  for  an  excuse. 

Cynth,  Is  it  possible  Tellus^  that  so  few  yeres  should  harbor  so 
many  mischiefes  ?  Thy  swelling  pride  haue  I  borne,  because  it  is 
a  thing  that  beautie  maketh  blamelesse,  which  the  more  it  exceedeth 

60  fairenes  in  measure,  the  more  it  stretcheth  it  selfe  in  disdaine.     Thy 

deuises  against  Corsites  I  smyle  at ;  for  that  wits,  the  sharper  they      .    t  ^ 
are,  the  shrewder  they  are.     But  this  vnacquainted  and  most  vn- 
naturall  practise  with  a  vile  Enchauntresse  against  so  noble  a  Gen- 
tleman as  Endimiony  I  abhorre  as  a  thing  most  malicious,  and  will 

65  reuenge  as  a  deede  most  monstrous. 

And  as  for  you^  Dipsas^  I  will  send  you  into  the  Deserte  amongst 
wilde  beastes^  and  try  whether  you  can  cast  Lyons,  Tygars^  Bores, 
and  Beares^  into  as  deade  a  sleepe  as  you  did  Endimion ;  or  turne 
them  to  trees,  as  you  haue  doone  Bagoa,     But  tell  me  Tellus^  what 

70  was  the  cause  of  this  cruel  part,  farre  vnfitting  thy  sexe,  in  which 
nothing  should  be  but  simplenes :  and  much  disagreeing  from  thy 
face,  in  which  nothing  seemed  to  bee  but  softnes. 

Tellus,  Diuine  Cynthia^  by  whom  I  receiue  my  life,  and  am  con- 
tent to  ende  it,  I  can  neyther  excuse  my  faulte  without  lying,  nor 

75  confesse  it  witl^out  shame ;  Yet  were  it  possible  that  in  so  heauenlie 
thoughts  as  yours,  there  coulde  fall  such  earthly  motions  as  mine, 
I  would  then  hope,  if  not  to  bee  pardoned  without  extreame  punish- 
ment, yet  to  be  heard  without  great  maruell. 

Cynth,  Say  on,  Tellus  \   I  cannot  imagine  anie  thing  that  can 

80  colour  such  a  crueltie. 

Tellus,  Endimion^  that  Endimion  in  the  prime  of  his  youth,  so  _ 
rauisht  my  hart  with  loue,  that  to  obtaine  my  desires,  I  coulde  not  !^  ^ 
finde  meanes,  nor  to  resi<s)te  them,  reason. 

s.  D.  [Re-enter  &c]  so  first  Bohr,  Enter  Corsites,  Tellus,  Panblion,  &c. 
preadtngeds.  73  bee]  me  Dii,  80  a  am,  Dil,  83  lesiste]  resite  Q : 

recite  Bl,  mods. 


74  ENDIMION  [act  v 

What  was  shee  that  fauoured  not  Endimion^  being  young,  wise, 
honorable,  and  vertuous ;  besides,  what  mettall  was  shee  made  of  85 
(be  shee  mortall)  that  is  not  affected  with  the  spice,  nay,  infected 
with  the  poyson  of  that  (not  to  be  expressed,  yet  alwaies  to  be  felt) 
Loue  ?  which  breaketh  the  braines,  and  neuer  brooseth  the  browe : 
consumeth  the  hart,  and  neuer  toucheth  the  skinne :  and  maketh 
a  deepe  wounde  to  be  felt,  before  any  skarre  at  all  be  seene.  My  90 
hart  too  tender  to  withstande  such  a  diuine  furie,  yeelded  to  Loue 
— Madame  I  not  without  blushing  confesse,  yeelded  to  Loue. 

Cynth,   A  strange  effect  of  loue,  to  worke  such  an  extreame  hate. 
How  say  you  Endimion^  all  this  was  for  loue  ? 

End.   I  say.  Madam,  then  the  Gods  sende  mee  a  womans  hate.      93 

Cynih,  That  were  as  bad,  for  then  by  contrarie  you  shoulde  neuer 
sleepe.     But  on  Tei/us,  let  vs  heare  the  ende. 

Tellus.  Feeling  a  continuall  burning  in  all  my  bowels,  and  aburst- 
ing  almost  in  euerie  vaine,  I  could  not  smoother  the  inwarde  fyre, 
but  it  must  needes  bee  perceiued  by  the  outwarde  smoke ;  and  by  100 
the  flying  abroade  of  diuers  sparkes,  diuers  iudged  of  my  scalding 
flames.  Endimion  as  full  of  arte  as  witte,  marking  mine  eyes,  (in 
which  hee  might  see  almost  his  owne,)  my  sighes,  by  which  he  might 
euer  heare  his  name  sounded,  aymed  at  my  hart,  in  which  he  was 
assured  his  person  was  imprinted ;  and  by  questions  wrunge  out  that,  105 
which  was  readie  to  burst  out.  When  he  sawe  the  depth  of  my 
affections,  he  sware,  that  mine  in  respect  of  his  were  as  fumes  to 
Aetna,  vallies  to  Ali)es,  Ants  to  Eagles,  and  nothing  could  be  com- 
pared to  my  beautie  but  his  loue,  and  etemitie.  Thus  drawing 
a  smooth  shoe  vppon  a  crooked  foote,  hee  made  mee  beleeue^  that  no 
(which  all  of  our  sexe  willinglie  acknowledge)  I  was  beautifull.  And 
to  wonder  (which  indeede  is  a  thing  miraculous)  that;  any  of  his  sexe 
should  be  faithfull. 

Cynth,  Endimion^  how  will  you  cleere  your  selfe  ? 

End,   Madam,  by  mine  owne  accuser.  115 

Cynth,  Well,  Tellus^  proceede,  but  breefiie ;  least  taking  delight  in 
vttering  thy  loue,  thou  offende  vs  with  the  length  of  it. 

Tellus,   I  will,  Madame,  quickly  make  an  ende  of  my  loue  &  my 

88  bruseth  Bl,  F, :    bruiseth  Dil,  Bak,  90  wounde ...  be  teene]  en 

Mr,  P,  A,  DanieVs  suggestion  I  transpose  skarre  .  .  .  seene  .  .  .  wounde  .  . .  felt  of 
all  previous  eds,  91-2  Loue.    Madame.  ...  to  Loue.  Q  Bl,  /*.,  F,  placing  am 

additional  comma  at  I :  love,  madam ;  I,  not  without  blushing,  confess,  yielded  to 
love.  Dil, :  love.  Madam,  I,  not  without  blushing,  confess  1  yielded  to  love, 
Bak,  104  euer]  even  Dil,  he  om,  F, 


sc  III]  ENDIMION  75 

tale.     Finding  continuall  increase  of  my  tormenting  thoughts,  and 
1 30  that  the  enioying  of  my  loue  made  deeper  woundes  then  the  entering 
into  it,  I  could  finde  no  meanes  to  ease  my  griefe  but  to  foUowe       6 
JSndimion,  and  continually  to  haue  him  in  the  obiect  of  mine  eyes, 
who  had  me  slaue  and  subject  to  his  loue. 

But  in  the  moment  that  I  feared  his  falsehoode,  and  fryed  my 

125  selfe  most  in  myne  affections,  I  founde,  (ah  griefe !  euen  then  I  lost 

my  selfe !)    I  founde  him  in  most  melancholic  and  desperate  termes, 

cursing  hys  starres,  his  state,  the  earth,  the  heauens,  the  world,  and 

all  for  the  loue  of — 

Cynth.   Of  whom  ?     Tellus  speake  boldly. 
130      Tellus.   Madame,  I  dare  not  vtter  for  feare  to  offende. 

Cynth.   Speake,  I  say ;  who  dare  take  offence,  if  thou  be  com- 
maunded  by  Cynthia  f 

Tellus.   For  the  loue  of  Cynthia. 

Cynth.   For  my  loue  Tellus^  that  were  strange.     Endimion^  is  it 
ni  true? 

End.   In  all  things,  Madame,  Tellus  doth  not  speak  false. 
Cynth.   What  will  this  breede  to  in  the  ende  ?    Well  Endimiony 
wee  shall  heare  all. 

Tellus.    I  seeing  my  hopes  turnde  to  mishaps,  and  a  setled  dis- 
140  sembling  towards  me,  and  an  vnmooueable  desire  to  Cynthia,  for- 
getting both  my  selfe  and  my  sexe,  fell  vnto  this  vnnaturall  hate ; 
for  knowing  your  vertues,  Cynthia,  to  be  immortall,  I  coulde  not 
haue  an  imagination  to  withdraw  him.     And   finding  mine  owne 
affections  vnquenchable,  I  coulde  not  carrie  the  minde  that  any  els 
M5  should  possesse  what   I   had   pursued.    For  though   in  maiestie, 
beautie,  vertue,  and  dignitie,  I  alwaies  humbled  and  yeelded  my 
selfe  to  Cynthia,  yet  in  affections,  I  esteemed  my  selfe  equall  with 
the  Goddesses ;  &  all  other  creatiures,  according  to  theyr  states,  with 
my  selfe.    For  stars  to  theyr  bignes  haue  theyr  lights,  and  the  sunne 
Tf  o  hath  no  more.     And  little  pytchers  when  they  can  holde  no  more,    ^ 
are  as  full  as  great  vessels  that  runne  ouer.     Thus  Madam,  in  all 
trueth,  haue  I  vttered  the  vnhappinesse  of  my  loue,  and  the  cause  of 
my  hate ;  yeelding  wholy  to  that  diuine  iudgement  which  neuer  erred 
for  want  of  wisedom,  or  enuied  for  too  much  partiality. 
is^s,      Cynth.    How  say  you,  my  Lords,  to  this  matter?    But  what  say 
you,  Endimion,  hath  Tellus  tolde  troth  ? 

139  Of  whom,  Tcllns?  Dil.         136  Madame,  Tellus  so  punctuated  Dil,  Bak.i 
Madame.   Tellus  Q  BU  F.  141  into  DiL  Bak. 


76  ENDIMION  [act  v 

End,   Madame  in  all  things,  but  in  that  shee  saide  I  loued  her, 
and  swore  to  honour  her. 

Cynth,   Was  there  such  a  time  when  as  for  my  loue  thou  didst 
vowe  thy  selfe  to  death,  and  in  respect  of  it  loth'd  thy  life?  speake  160 
Endimion^  I  will  not  reuenge  it  with  hate. 

End.  The  time  was  Madam,  and  is,  and  euer  shall  be,  that  I 
honoured  your  highnesse  aboue  all  the  world ;  but  to  stretch  it  so 
far  as  to  call  it  loue,  I  neuer  durst.  There  hath  none  pleased  mine 
eye  but  Cynthiay  none  delighted  mine  eares  but  Cynthia^  none  pos*  165 
sessed  my  hart  but  Cynthia.  I  haue  forsaken  all  other  fortunes  to 
foUowe  Cynthitty  and  heere  I  stande  ready  to  die  if  it  please  C^ntkia, 
Such  a  difference  hath  the  Gods  sette  between  our  states,  that  all 
must  be  dutie,  loyaltie,  and  reuerence ;  nothing  (without  it  vouchsafe 
your  highnes)  be  termed  loue.  My  vnspotted  thoughts,  my  languish-  170 
ing  bodie,  my  discontented  life^  let  them  obtaine  by  princelie  fauour 
that,  which  to  challenge  they  must  not  presume,  onelie  wishing  of 
impossibilities  :  with  imagination  of  which,  I  will  spende  my  spirits, 
and  to  my  selfe  that  no  creature  may  heare,  softlie  call  it  loue.  And 
if  any  vrge  to  vtter  what  I  whisper,  then  will  I  name  it  honor.  From  175 
this  sweet  conteplation  if  I  be  not  driuen,  I  shall  Hue  of  al  men  the 
most  content,  taking  more  pleasure  in  mine  aged  thoughts,  then  euer 
I  did  in  my  youthful  actions. 

Cynth,  Endimion,  this  honorable  respect  of  thine,  shalbe  christned 
loue  in  thee,  &  my  reward  for  it  fauor.  Perseuer  Endimion  in  180 
louing  me,  &  I  account  more  strength  in  a  true  hart,  then  in  a 
walled  Cittie.  I  haue  laboured  to  win  all,  and  studie  to  keepe  such 
as  I  haue  wonne ;  but  those  that  neither  my  fauour  can  mooue  to 
continue  constant,  nor  my  offered  benefits  gette  to  bee  fJEUthfuU,  the 
Gods  shal  eyther  reduce  to  trueth,  or  reuenge  their  trecheries  with  185 
iustice.  Endimion  continue  as  thou  hast  begun,  and  thou  afarit  finde 
that  Cynthia  shyneth  not  on  thee  in  vaine. 

{At  this  point  Endimion  finds  means  to  part  with  his  white  beard 
and  other  signs  of  age. ) 

End.   Your  Highnesse  hath  blessed  mee,  and  your  wordes  haue 
againe  restored  my  youth :   mee  thinkes  I  feele  my  ioyntes  stronge, 
and  these  mouldy  haires  to  molt,  &  all  by  your  vertue  Cynthia^  into  i^ 
whose  hands  the  Ballance  that  weigheth  time  &  fortune  are 


fr«)llilM   ir.c 


159  as  om.  Dil.        169-70  (without  Your  Highness  TOQchsafe  it)  Bak.        s.  D. 
Lt  this  pomt  &c]  fW^i^tf  0i» ■'- *  /^--it-* -._i-.-l    „ 

Kxsoailfrf.  Mid,  i.  i,  50,  9a. 


[At  ihvi  yomt  SlcT^  imerted on  suggestum  of  Bilkers  note  191  wcjgfateth  F. 


i 

[ 


SC.1U]  ENDIMION  77 

Cynth.  What  younge  againe?  then  it  is  pittie  to  punish  Tellus. 
Tellus,  Ah  Endimion^  now  I  know  thee  and  aske  pardon  of  thee : 
suffer  mee  still  to  wish  thee  well. 
195      End.   Tellus^  Cynthia  must  commaund  what  she  will. 

Fhsc,  Endimian,  I  reioyce  to  see  thee  in  thy  former  estate. 
End,   Good  JFToscuia^  to  thee  also  am  I  in  my  former  affections. 
Eum.  Endimian^  the  comfort  of  my  life,  howe  am  I  rauished  with 
a  ioy  matchlesse,  sauing  onelie  the  enioying  of  my  mistrisse. 
aoo      Cynth.  Endt'mion^  you  must  nowe  tell  who  Eumenides  shrineth 
for  bis  Saint. 
End.   Semeky  Madame. 

Cynth.   SemeUy  Eumenides  f   is  it  ScmeU  t  the  very  waspe  of  all 
women,  whose  tongue  stingeth  as  much  as  an  Adders  tooth  ? 
ao5      Eum.   It  is  Seme/e,  Cynthia :  the  possessing  of  whose  loue^  must 
onelie  prolong  my  life. 

Cynth.   Nay  sith  Endimion  is  restored,  wee  will  haue  all  parties 
pleased.    Semele^  are  you  content  after  so  long  triall  of  his  faith,  such 
rare  secresie,  such  vnspotted  loue,  to  take  Eumenides  t    Why  speake 
a  10  you  not  ?    Not  a  word  ? 

End.   Silence,  Madame,  consents :  that  is  most  true. 
Cynth.   It  is  true  Endimion.     Eumenides,  take  Semele.     Take  her 
I  say. 

Eum.   Humble  thanks,  Madame :  now  onely  doe  I  begin  to  liue. 
a  15      Sem.   A  harde  choyce,  Madame,  either  to  be  married  if  I  say 
nothing,  or  to  lose  my  tongue  if  I  speake  a  word.    Yet  doe  I  rather 
choose  to  haue  my  tongue  cut  out,  then  my  heart  distempered : 
I  will  not  haue  him. 

Cynth.   Speakes  the  Parrat  ?  shee  shall  nod  heereafter  with  signes : 
•ao  cut  off  her  tongue,  nay,  her  heade,  that  hauing  a  seruant  of  honour- 
able birth,  honest  manners,  and  true  loue,  will  not  be  perswaded. 

Sem.  He  is  no  faithfuU  Louer,  Madame,  for  then  would  he  haue 
asked  his  Mistris. 

Ger.   Had  he  not  beene  faithfull,  he  had  neuer  scene  into  the 
>>5  fountaine,  and  so  lost  his  friend  and  Mistrisse. 

Eum.  Thine  own  thoughts,  sweet  Semele^  witnesse  against  thy 
wordes,  for  what  hast  thou  founde  in  my  life  but  loue  ?  and  as  yet, 
what  haue  I  founde  in  my  loue  but  bittemesse  ?  Madame,  pardon 
Semeie^  and  let  my  tongue  ransome  hers. 

203  Semele,  Eumenides  ?]  Semele  ?  Eumenides  DU. 


78  ENDIMION  [act  v 

Cynth,   Thy  tongue,  Eutnenides  ?  what !  shouldst  thou  liue  wanting  330 
a  tongue  to  blaze  the  beautie  of  Semeie  f    Well  Seme/e,  I  will  not 
commaund  loue,  for  it  cannot  bee  enforced :  let  me  entreat  it 

Sem.    I  am  content  your  Highnesse  shall  command,  for  now  only 
do  I  thinke  Eumenides  faithful!,  that  is  willing  to  lose  his  tongue  for 
my  sake :    yet  loth^  because  it    should  doe  me    better   seruice.  235 
Madame,  I  accept  of  Eumenides, 

Cynth.   I  thanke  you,  Semeie, 

Eum,  Ah,  happie  Eumenides^  that  hast  a  friend  so  faithfully  and 
a  mistris  so  faire :  with  what  sodaine  mischiefe  wil  the  Gods  daunt 
this  excesse  of  ioye  ?    Sweet  Semeie^  I  liue  or  dye  as  thou  wilt  3  40 

Cynth,  What  shall  become  of  Tellus  ?  Te/Zus,  you  know  Endimion 
is  vowed  to  a  seruice,  from  which  death  cannot  remooue  him.  Ccr- 
sites  casteth  still  a  louely  looke  towards  you :  how  say  you,  will  you 
haue  your  Corsites^  and  so  receiue  pardon  for  all  that  is  past  ? 

Tellus,    Madame,  most  willingly.  345 

Cynth,    But  I  cannot  tel  whether  Corsites  be  agreed. 

Cors,  I,  Madame!  more  happie  to  enioy  Tellus  then  the 
Monarchie  of  the  world. 

Eum,   Why  she  caused  you  to  be  pincht  with  Fairies. 

Cors,    I^  but  her  fairenesse  hath  pinched  my  hart  more  deepelie.     350 

Cynth,  Well,  enioy  thy  loue.  But  what  haue  you  wrought  in  the 
Castle,  Tellus  f 

Tellus,    Onely  the  picture  of  Endimion, 

Cynth,  Then  so  much  of  Endimion  as  his  picture  commeth  to, 
possesse  and  play  withall.  255 

Cors,  Ah  my  sweete  Tellus,  my  loue  shal  be  as  thy  beautie  is, 
matchlesse. 

Cynth,   Now  it  resteth,  Dipsas,  that  if  thou  wilt  forsweare  that  vile 
Arte  of  Enchaunting,  Geron  hath  promised  againe  to  receiue  thee ; 
otherwise,  if  thou  be  wedded  to  that  wickednes,  I  must  and  will  see  360 
it  punished  to  the  vttermost 

Dipsas,  Madam,  I  renounce  both  substance  and  shadow  of  that 
most  horrible  and  hatefull  trade;  vowing  to  the  Gods  continuall 
penaunce,  and  to  your  highnes  obedience. 

Cynth,    Howe  say  you,  Geron,  will  you  admit  her  to  your  Wife?     265 

Ger.    I,  with  more  ioy  then  I  did  the  first  day  :  for  nothing  could 

330  what !]  no  stop  in  oldeds,  338  and  om,  Dil,  340  this]  thdr  Dil, 

343  looke]  lookes  Q       you : .  .  .  you,  will]  you, . .  .  you  ?  Will  Bl,  /.     Q^s  0mfy 
stop  is  comma  at  first  you        yon'  om.  Q 


sc  111]  ENDIMION  79 

happen  to  make  me  happy^  but  onely  her  forsaking  that  leude  and 
detestable  course.    Dipsas,  I  imbrace  thee. 

Dipsas,   And  I  thee,  Geron^  to  whom  I  will  heereafter  recite  the 
170  cause  of  these  my  first  follies. 

Cynth.  Well,  Endimion^  nothing  resteth  nowe  but  that  we 
depart  Thou  hast  my  fauour,  Tellus  her  friend,  Eutntnides  in 
Paradice  with  his  Semele^  Geron  contented  with  Dipsas, 

Top.    Nay  soft,  I  cannot  handsomly  goe  to  bed  without  Bagoa, 
275      Cynth,   Well  Syr  Tophas^  it  may  bee  there  are  more  vertues  in 
mee  then  my  selfe  knoweth  of;  for  Endimion  I  awaked,  and  at  my 
words  he  waxed  young;    I  will  trie  whether  I  can  turne  this  tree 
againe  to  thy  true  loue. 

Top.    Tume  her  to  a  true  loue  or  false,  so  shee  be  a  wench  I  care 
380  not 

Cynth.  Bagocy  Cynthia  putteth  an  end  to  thy  harde  fortunes ;  for 
being  tumd  to  a  tree  for  reuealing  a  truth,  I  will  recouer  thee  againe, 
if  in  my  power  be  the  effect  of  truth. 

(Bagoa  recovers  human  shape,) 

Top,  Bagoa  ?  a  bots  vpon  thee ! 
285  Cynth.  Come  my  Lordes  let  vs  in.  You,  Gyptes  and  Pythagoras^ 
if  you  can  content  your  selues  in  our  Court,  to  fall  from  vaine  follies 
of  Phylosophers  to  such  vertues  as  are  here  practised,  you  shall  be 
entertained  according  to  your  deserts ;  for  Cynthia  is  no  stepmother 
to  strangers. 
290  JPythag,  I  had  rather  in  Cynthias  Court  spende  tenne  yeeres,  then 
in  Greece  one  houre. 

Gyptes,    And  I  chuse  rather  to  liue  by  the  sight  of  Cynthia^  then 
by  the  possessing  of  all  Egipt. 
Cynth.   Then  follow. 
395      Eum.   We  all  attend.  Exeunt, 

FINIS. 


376  I  awaked  Endimion  Bi,   mods,  s.  D.  [Bagoa  &c.]  Bak,  sullied 

[Bagoa  becomes  herself  again]  386  can]  cannot  all  previous  eds. 


^  The  Epilogue. 

A  Man  walking  abroade,  the  wind  and  Sunne  stroue  for  soue- 
raignty,  the  one  with  his  blast,  the  other  with  his  beames. 
The  wind  blew  hard,  the  man  wrapped  his  garmfit  about  him  harder : 
it  blustred  more  strongly,  he  then  girt  it  fast  to  him  :  I  cannot  pre- 
uaile,  sayd  the  wind.  The  Sunne  casting  her  Christall  beames,  began  5 
to  warme  the  man  :  he  vnlosed  his  gowne.  Yet  it  shined  brighter : 
he  then  put  it  off.  I  yeelde,  sayd  the  winde,  for  if  thou  continue 
shining,  he  will  also  put  off  his  cote. 

Dread  Soueraigne,  the  malicious  that  seeke  to  ouerthrowe  vs  with 
threats,  do  but  stiffen  our  thoughts^  and  make  them  sturdier  in  10 
stormcs :  but  if  your  Highnes  vouchsafe  with  your  fauorable  beames 
to  glaunce  vpon  vs,  we  shall  not  onlie  stoope,  but  with  all  bumilitie, 
lay  both  our  handes  and  heartes  at  your  Maiesties  feete. 


ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 

Nearly  sixty  years  ago  the  Rev.  N.  J.  Halpin  laid  before  the  world  of 
Shakespearean  scholars  a  most  ingenious  essay,  in  the  course  of  which 
Lyl/s  play  of  Endimion  was  interpreted  for  the  first  time  as  an  elaborate 
transcript  of  certain  events  in  contemporary  Court  history,  centreing 
round  the  passion  entertained  by  Queen  Elizabeth  for  Robert  Dudley, 
Earl  of  Leicester  \  Mr.  Haipin*s  theory,  advanced  with  much  modesty 
and  supported  by  a  dose  reference  to  historical  documents,  has  won 
a  wide  though  not  a  universal  acceptance.  Attention  has  recently  been 
called  to  special  defects  in  it,  and  an  attempt  made,  which  I  cannot 
regard  as  successful,  to  amend  it  in  some  particulars'.  A  closer  con- 
sideration of  the  essay  reveals,  indeed,  inconsistencies  so  glaring  between 
the  conduct  and  situation  of  the  characters  in  the  play  and  those  of  the 
people  with  whom  it  is  sought  to  identify  them,  as  make  it  impossible  to 
accept  Halpin's  view  as  more  than  partially  and  approximately  correct ; 
the  Dact  being  that  his  desire  to  find  support  in  Endimion  for  bis  inter- 
pretation of  Oberon's  speech  has  largely  disqualified  him  as  the  interpreter 
of  the  former.  In  the-  following  pages  I  shall  endeavour  to  pomi  out  the 
inconsistencies  alluded  to,  and  to  suggest  a  general  emendation  of  the 
theory.  Some  of  my  objections  were  anticipated,  though  but  inadequately 
met,  by  Mr.  Halpin  himself :  and  if  I  am  obliged  to  reject  the  majority 
of  his  identifications,  and  to  alter  considerably  the  general  scope  of  the 
play,  it  must  always  be  remembered  that  to  his  clever  initiative  belongs 
the  credit  of  first  opening  this  line  of  inquiry  and  of  pointing  us  to 
authorities  by  whom  it  might  be  verified  or  corrected. 

In  the  first  place  it  is  necessary  to  observe  that  the  allegory  in  Endimion 
is  twofold.  The  classical  myth  afforded  Lyly  the  bare  suggestion  of 
Endymion's  slumber  and  the  kiss  of  Cynthia ;  but  it  is  obvious  that  these 
were  insufficient  materials  for  a  play.  He  has,  therefore,  woven  round 
this  beautiful  picture  a  drama  of  Court  life,  which  has  no  place  nor 
counterpart  at  all  in  the  classical  myth ;  and  has,  further,  combined  with 
this  a  physical  allegory,  accepted  even  by  those  who  refuse  to  recognize 
the  political  one— an  allegory,  namely,  under  the  names  of  Tellus  and 

*  Oherons  Vision  in  the  Midsummer  s  Nighfs  Dream.  Illustrated  by  a  com- 
parison  with  Ly lie's  Endymion,  By  the  Rev,  N.J,  Halpin  .  .  .  London,  1843.  8® 
(^Shakespeare  Society), 

*  Endymion  ,  ,  .  edited  by  George  P.  Baker ^  New  York,  1894.  The  allegory  is 
dealt  with  in  Mr.  Baker's  full  biographical  Introduction,  pp.  sdi-lxxiv. 

BOKD  in  O 


82 


ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 


The 

physical 

allegory. 


Cynthia,  of  the  Earth  and  the  Moon  as  heavenly  bodies.  This  latter^ 
a  link  between  Lyl/s  work  and  the  still-surviving  Moral- PlaySi  and  an 
idea  which  finds  other  development  in  the  treatment  o£  thr  Sf  y^n  gjataets 
j]X_The^  fppman  in  The  Moone\  may  be  briefly  illustrated  and  dismissed. 
It  appears  most  prominently  in  the  first  Act,  where  Lyly  is  breaking  his 
ground,  and  the  desire  of  Endimion  to  mislead  Eumenides  as  to  the  real 
object  of  his  passion  harmonizes  with  some  timidity  on  the  author's  part 
in  introducing  his  real  subject.  Endimion*s  defence  of.  Cynthia  from  the 
charge  of  inconstancy  on  account  of  her  waxing  and  waning  (pp.  22-3),  is 
followed  in  the  second  scene  (11. 19-26)  by  the  following  protest  of  Tellus — 

'Is  not  my  beauty  diuine,  whose  body  is  decked  with  faire  flowers, 
and  vaines  are  Vines,  yeelding  sweet  liquor  to  the  dullest  spirits,  whose 
eares  are  Come,  to  bring  strength,  and  whose  heares  are  grasse,  to  bring 
abundance?  Doth  not  Frankinsence  and  Myrrhe  breath  out  of  my 
nostrils,  and  all  the  sacrifice  of  the  Gods  breede  in  my  bowels  ?  Infinite 
are  my  creatures,  without  which  neyther  thou,  nor  Endimion^  nor  any 
could  loue,  or  Hue.' 

To  which  Floscula,  one  of  the  'faire  flowers '  who  perhaps  help  to  '  deck ' 
Tellus,  rejoins 

'  Your  grapes  woulde  be  but  drie  huskes,  your  Come  but  chaflfe,  and 
all  your  vertues  vaine,  were  it  not  Cynthia  that  presemeth  the  one  in  the 
bud,  and  nourisheth  the  other  in  the  blade,  and  by  her  influence  both 
comforteth  all  things,  and  by  her  authoritie  commaundeth  all  creatures.' 

But,  attention  once  won  for  Cynthia  and  Tellus  as  women,  their  planetary 
significance  emerges  only  occasionally,  with  fainter  and  rarer  recurrence, 
to  the  end  of  the  piece:  e.g.  p.  31  'thy  fish  Cynthia  in  the  floode 
Araris,  which  at  thy  waxing  is  as  white  as  the  driuen  snowe,  and  at  thy 
wayning,  as  blacke  as  deepest  darknes ' ;  p.  33  '  Sufler  me  therefore  to 
gaze  on  the  Moone,  at  whom,  were  it  not  for  thyselfe,  I  would  die  with 
wondering ' ;  p.  38  '  On  yonder  banke  neuer  grewe  any  thing  but  Lunary, 
and  hereafter  I  will  neuer  haue  any  bed  but  that  banke' ;  ib.  1. 26(Dipsas 
charming  End.)  'thou  mightest  haue  conmianded  Tellus,  whoniejiowe 
in  stead  of  a  Mistris,  thou  shalt  finde  a  tombe';  and  lower,. L  38,  she 
is  obliged  to  gratify  Tellus,  *  for  from  her  gather  wee  all  our  simptes  to 
maintaine  our  sorceries';  iii.  i.  28  'your  highnes,  on  whosehandes  die 
compasse  of  the  earth  is  at  cofifiaund,  though  not  in  possession';  p.  51 
the  inscription  on  the  pillar;  iv.  i.  66  'Cynthia  beginneth  to  rise'; 
v.  3.  24  '  Thou  hast  threatned  to  tume  my  course  awry '  &c ;  lETl.  75 
(Tellus  to  Cynthia)  'were  it  possible  that  in  so  heauenlie  thoughts  as 
yours  there  coulde  fall  such  earthly  motions  as  mine'  ^c^^nd  ib.  1,  145 
'though  in  maiestie,  beautie,  vertue,  and  dignitie,  I  alwaies  humbled  and 
yeelded  my  selfe  to  Cynthia,  yet  in  affections  I  esteemed  my  selfe  equaU 

*  Steinluiiifer,^iif  Lyfy  als  Dramatiker,  p.  19. 


IS  THERE  ONE?  83 

^th  the  Goddesses;  &  all  other  creatures,  according  to  theyr  stdtes, 
with  my  selfe.  For  stars  to  theyr  bignes  haue  theyr  lights,  and  the  sunne 
hath  no  more' ;  ib.  1. 185  'Endimion,  continue  as  thou  hast  begun,  and 
thou  shalt  finde  that  Cynthia  shyneth  not  on  thee  in  vaine/ 

The  existence  of  a  Court  allegory  has,  we  have  said,  not  been  universally  The  Court 
allowed;  chiefly,  perhaps,  because  the  story  told  about  Cynthia  and  her  allegory — 
courtiers  may  quite  well  be  regarded  by  itself  as  a  pretty  imaginative  fof^^h! 
effort,  perfectly  intelligible  without  any  reference  to  actual  facts.    It  is  so 
regarded  by,  among  others,  Professor  Morle^  who  says  k  propos  of  the 
Court  allegory  suggested — 'This  wky  of  hobbling  Pegasus  with  logs  of 


prose  has  friends  enough.    I  am  not 
and  in  many  another  play,  a  surface 


of  their  company. . .  •  There  is  here, 
reference  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  which 


comes  of  readily  identifying  the  ciueen's  grace  and  wisdom  with  the 
wisdom  from  above.  But  throughout  there  is  also  set  forth  clearly  an 
impersonal  allegory  that  touches  the  relation  of  the  mind  of  man  to  Earth 
and  Heaven  \*  Imitating  Professor  Morle/s  liberality  we  may  cheerfully 
admit  that  there  is  here  a  surface  reference  to  these  serener  matters, 
especially  perceptible  to  those  who  readily  identify  the  Queen's  grace  and 
wisdom  with  the  wisdom  from  above ;  and  suggestion  of  such  impersonal 
allegory  is  prominent  in  the  first  two  scenes,  in  the  contrast  between  the 
'sweet  nette,'  the  '  allurements  of  pleasure,'  in  which  Tellus  (i.  2.  41  sqq.) 
tries  to  entangle  the  hero,  and  the  vague  aspirations  he  acknowledges 
towards  a  beauty  far  above  him.  It  also  appears  in  the  pinching  of  Tellus' 
lover,  Corsites,  by  fairies ;  the  punishment  allotted  in  folklore  to  sensual 
affection.  But  it  is  my  decided  belief  that  such  a  mystical  interpretation 
of  the  main  purport  of  the  play,  though  quite  in  harmony  with  the  spirit 
of  Spenser's  non-dramatic  work  a  few  years  later,  and  not  out  of  harmony 
even  with  the  temper  of  the  earlier  Moralities,  is  considerably  removed 
from  tEiTtemper  at  which  the  contemporary  3rama  in  the  natural  course 
of  its  development  had  arrived,  and  is  quite  foreign  to  the  spirit  which 
dominates  the  other  writings  of  John  Lyly.  It  is  abundantly  clear  that 
Lyly  had  thoroughly  learned  the  lesson  of  realism  taught  by  the  progress 
of  the  drama  up  to  his  time.  The  sure  process  of  evolution,  the  gradual 
SiiHng  of  the  stock  of  dramatic  pieces  in  the  competition  for  popular 
favour,  was  steadily  eliminating  abstract  allegory  such  as  Professor 
Morley  here  imagines.  Lyly's  allegory  is,  I  believe,  almost  invariably 
a  personal  allegory,  a  representation,  more  or  less  veiled,  modified,  and 
partial,  of  contemporary  men  and  women ;  and  even  if  Nature,  with  her 
handmaids  Concord  and  Discord,  in  The  Woman  in  ike  Moone^  constitute 
a  momentary  exception,  yet  the  Seven  Planets  in  that  play  are  not  so 
much  representations  of  abstract  virtues  and  vices,  as  Steinhauser 
asserts*,  as  of  definite  personalities  in  classical  mythology  with  which 
Lyly  chose  to  combine  the  mediaeval  notions  of  astrological  influence. 

*  English  Writers^  ix.  204,  ao8.  ^  John  Lyly  als  Dramatiker^  P*  *S>- 

G  2 


84  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN   ENDIMION 

Lyiy  had,  in  ilEict,  grasped  the  neoessity  of  presenting  the  concrete :  and  if 
he  IS  unwilling  wholly  to  discard  the  allegory  out  of  which  the  drania  of 
bis  day  had  grown,  and  which  still  possessed  a  certain  hold^  especially 
on  educated  minds,  yet  he  brings  it  into  line  with  the  advance  of  dramatic 
usage  and  adroitly  makes  it  the  engine  of  a  yet  closer  realism.  And  it  by 
no  means  follows,  because  the  Court  allegory  can  be  easDy  detached  and 
leave  the  play  still  interesting  and  complete,  that  no  such  allegory  was 
intended.  It  is  equally  possible,  and  more  probable,  that  the  author  had 
grasped  the  notion  that— while  allegory  of  any  kind  is  hardly  a  fit  metier 
for  the  drama,  which  moves  and  has  its  being  in  action  and  leaves  tlie 
spectator  little  time  for  pondering  recondite  meanings,  and  no  opportunity 
of  turning  back  to  verify  a  new  suggestion  by  reference  to  an  earlier 
scene — yet,  if  it  be  admitted  on  the  stage  at  all,  that  all^ory  will  be  the 
best  which  lies  in  the  play  juxtaposed  rather  than  inextricably  intertwined, 
parallel  yet  apart,  perceptible  to  the  reader  and  to  the  acuter  spectator, 
Ibut  not  essential  to  the  intelligence  and  enjoyment  of  the  piece^  The 
perception  of  this  principle  by  writers  for  the  stage  had  no  doubt  been 
quickened  by  the  royal  proclamation  of  May  i6,  1559,  declaring  Vthat  no 
dramatic  production  should  be  licensed,  which  touched  matters  of  religion 
or  governance  of  the  estate  of  the  commonweal  ^'  If  such  matter,  then, 
were  to  be  handled  at  all,  the  play  must  at  least  seem  innocent  of  the 
intention ;  which  it  could  hardly  seem  if  the  underlying  matter  or  meaning 
were  necessary  to  its  comprehension,  if  it  had  no  proper  vitality  apart 
from  such.  And  so  we  need  not  conclude  that  there  is  no  allegory,  merely 
because  the  piece  can  stand  without  it.  While  the  author  would  recognize 
it  as  his  business  to  make  his  play  independent  of  such  aid,  he  was 
perfectly  conscious  how  much  its  interest  would  be  enhanced  by  this 
addition  to  its  significance.  And  in  Endimion  at  any  rate,  the  idea  of 
the  presence  of  something  more  than  meets  the  eye  is  quite  irresistible. 
One  asks,  if  the  presentation  and  embroidery  of  the  classical  myth  were 
the  sole  intention,  what  could  have  induced  the  author  to  drag  so  lovely 
a  glimpse  of  ideality  down  to  the  vulgar  level  of  Court  intrigue  ?  Whereas, 
if  the  presentation  of  the  latter  is  the  main  intention,  the  introduction 
of  the  myth  idealizes  and  purifies  it.  And  would  a  free  imagination  have 
gone  out  of  its  way  to  construct  the  absolutely  unessential  Corsites,  with 
his  futile  effort,  his  pinchings  and  slumberings,  effecting  nothing,  leading 
to  nothing,  but  readily  intelligible  if  introduced  as  part  of  a  dramatized 
series  of  real  events,  which  so  often  bear  this  incoherent  and  purposeless 
character  ?  The  same  question  may  be  asked  in  regard  to  the  ineffectual 
Floscula,    The  language,  too,  used  by  Endimion  under  Cynthia's  dis« 

'  Collier's  Hist,  of  Dram.  Poetry,  i.  1 74.  The  earliest  Act  of  Parliament  for 
the  control  and  regulation  of  the  stage,  on  which  later  statntes  and  proclamations 
like  that  of  1559  were  based,  was  that  of  1543,  34  and  35  Henry  VIII,  c.  i. 
(Id.  i.  la;.) 


ITS  LIMITING  CONDITIONS  85 

pleasure  is  £ar  more  appropriate  to  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  suddenly 
deprived  of  a  favour  long  enjoyed,  than  to  the  shepherd  of  Latmos^: 
Cynthia's  bearing  towards  Semele  and  Tellus  admirably  reflects  the 
dopaineering  temper  of  Henry  VII Fs  daughter:  and  the  dream  of 
£ndimion,~diescribed  in  the  fiflh  Act  (pp.  66-7),  would  be  altogether 
pcnntlessjuidLimpertinent  unles%  addressed  avec  intention  to  an  actual 
Cynthia  seated  as  spectator  of  the  piece.  Admit  the  dream  as  all^orical, 
and  the  rest  must  become  wholly  or  partly  so :  moreover,  the  words  in  the 
Prologue  about '  applying  pastimes '  are  obviously  the  excuse  which  is  its 
own  accuser,  an  attitude  exchanged  in  the  Epilogue  for  one  of  frank 
acknowledgement  and  deprecation  of  a  possible  displeasure  on  the  Queen's 
part  *  Besides  all  this,  we  have  already  seen  reason  to  suspect  allegorical 
intention  in  Sapho  and  Phaoy  and  at  least  a  personification  of  Elizabeth 
in  Gallathea  and  Loves  Metamorphosis  (supposing  the  latter  to  precede 
Endimion) :  it  would  be  natural  now  to  find  him  launching  out  on  a  more 
elaborate  effort  in  the  same  direction,  one  that  might  serve  at  once  as  his 
acknowledgement  for  his  recent  appointment  as  Court  dramatist,  and  as 
the  best  vindication  of  his  claims  to  it. 

fiut  gp-anting,  as  we  must,  the  presence  of  a  Court  allegory,  there  are  Limita- 
one  or  two  things  to  be  premised  concerning  it,  one  or  two  limitations  ^^^^  ^®  ^^^ 
to  the  precision  we  might  expect  to  find.    In  the  first  place,  Lyly's  own  ^^  ^|^^ 
opportunities  for  ascertaining  the  facts,  if  they  equalled,  would  not  exactly  allegory, 
tally  with  those  of  the  ingenious  critic  of  to-day,  with  the  stores  of 
information  from  the  most  private  sources  which  the  research  and  editing 
of  the  nineteenth  century  have  placed  at  his  disposal.    Lyly  was  simply 
a  clever  young  man  in  a  subordinate  position  about  the  Court,  whose 
wit,  address,  and  literary  achievement  would  make  him  a  natural  reci- 
pient for  such  fact»-or  gossip  as  were  current,  and  whose  special  con- 
nexion with  Oxford  or  Burleigh,  or  perhaps  Leicester  himself,  would 

^  There  is  a  noticeable  resemblance  between  the  soliloquy  Act  ii.  sc  i,  p.  31 
and  the  language  of  a  letter  written  by  Leicester  to  Burleigh,  about  the  Queen*i 
displeasnre,  under  date  Nov.  12,  1579 — a  coincidence  probably,  though  it  is  by  no 
means  impossible  that  Lyly,  in  his  capacity  as  secretary  to  Burleigh*s  son-in-law 
Oxford,  had  actually  read,  or  heard  read,  this  letter,  and  in  any  case  it  only 
repeated  the  complaints  with  which  Leicester  had  alreadv  filled  the  Court.  It  is 
quoted  by  Mr.  Baker  {Endymian^  p.  xlvii)  from  Wright  s  Queen  EHzcibeth  and 
Her  Times,  ii.  103.  £.  g.  Endim.  *  Haue  I  not  crept  to  those  on  whom  I  might 
haue  troden,  onelie  because  thou  didst  shine  vpon  them  ?  Haue  not  iniuries  beene 
sweet  to  mee,  if  thou  vouchsafedst  I  should  beare  them  ?  Haue  I  not  spent  my 
golden  yeeres  in  hopes,  waxing  old  with  wishing,  yet  wishing  nothing  but  thy 
loue  ?  * — Leic,  '  1  must  confess  it  greveth  me  not  a  lyttle,  having  so  faythfuUy, 
carefully,  and  chargeably  served  her  Majesty  this  twenty  yeres,  as  1  have  done  .  .  • 
I  wyll  be  found  faythfull  and  just  to  her  Majesty,  no  wrongs,  dishonors,  or  other 
indygnitet  offered  me,  shall  alter  my  dewtyfull  affection  towards  her  ...  So  may 
I  say,  I  have  lost  both  youth,  liberty,  and  all  my  fortune  reposed  in  her;  and,  my 
Lord,  by  that  tyme  I  have  made  an  even  reckoning  with  the  world,  your  Lordship 
wyll  not  give  me  much  for  the  remainder  of  my  twenty  yeres*  service,*  &c. 

*  Baker's  Endymum,  pp.  xlii,  xliii. 


36  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 

afford  him  some  special  opportunities.  In  the  second  place,  his  zUegotf 
ivas  conditioned  by  the  form  in  which  it  was  presented.  The  events  of 
real  life  are  rarely  either  so  symmetrical  or  so  ideal  in  their  character  as 
to  be  capable  of  presentation  by  art  without  selection  or  change  of  some 
sort ;  and  the  necessities  of  the  stage  may  have  compelled  Lyly  to  £dsify 
even  the  limited  knowledge  that  he  possessed  Another  motive  for  such 
falsification  would  lie  in  the  danger  of  being  too  direct :  while  indicating 
clearly  his  general  intent,  he  must  leave  himself,  and  his  originals,  loop- 
holes of  escape  from  too  close  an  identification.  And,  fourthly,  seeing 
that  the  matters  dealt  with  extended  over  a  lai^ge  portion  of  the  reign,  he 
could  hardly  treat  them  dramatically  without  some  compression  and 
recombination  ;  so  that  while  certain  features  of  his  story  seem  to  point 
to  one  date,  certain  others  are  perhaps  rather  indicative  of  another, 
and  the  whole  work  cannot  safely  be  reg^ded  as  other  than  a  loose 
rendering  of  general  facts  with  more  detailed  reference  here  and  there. 
Dramatic  necessity  or  the  State  censorship  may  compel  him  to  alter 
times  and  places,  to  marry  people  who  were  not  really  married,  or  not  to 
those  whom  they  are  represented  as  marrying,  and  even  to  combine  in 
one  character  features  of  two  persons  holding  successively  the  same 
position. 

Nevertheless,  if  the  claim  of  any  particular  interpretation  is  to  be  sup- 
ported at  all,  there  must  be  a  general  correspondence  shown  between 
the  main  facts  of  the  drama  and  the  main  facts  of  the  history,  a  general 
consonance  between  the  characters  and  situations  of  the  personages  with 
those  of  their  models.     My  complaint  against  many  of  Mr.  Halpin's 
identifications  is  that  they  fail  to  satisfy  this  essential  of  a  general 
Halpin*s       correspondence.    He  divides  the  identified  characters  according  to  three 
inteqpreta-    degrees  of  probability ;  while  for  the  nine  minor  parts  not  here  enumerated 
^^°'  he  suggests  no  originals,  though  he  considers  that  there  probably  were 

such  for  Pythagoras  and  Gyptes.  None  of  these  nine  minor  characters, 
however,  at  all  affect  the  plot,  and  so  may  safely  be  ignored  without 
damage  to  the  general  theory  upheld  about  the  rest.  His  cast  is  as 
follows : 

Highly  Probable^ 

Endymion  (m  love  with  Cynthia,and  \  Leicester 
beloved  by  Tellus  and  Floscula)  j 

Cynthia Queen  Elizabeth. 

Tellus  (in  love  with  Endymion*s\  Lady  Douglas  Howard,  Countess  of 

*  person ')                                       I  Sheffield. 

r  iv.  3.  p.  60. 
Floscula  (in  love  with  Endymion*s  I   Lady  Lettice  Knollys,  Countess  of 

*  virtues  *)  i       Essex. 

Corsites  (married  to  Tellus)     .        .  Sir  Edward  Stafford. 
Eumenides  (in  love  with  Semele)    .  the  Earl  of  Sussex. 


HALPIN  AND  BAKER  ij 

ProbMe. 

Semde Lady  Frances  Sidney. 

Dipsas   (an   old   mischief-making)   .,     ^      .        rr.i_ 
„    V  **  h  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury, 

crone;  J  * 

Geron  (her  husband)        •       •       .the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury. 

Not  Improbable, 

e-   n* ^u     /       J     *•   <     M'-L    •  .f\l   Stephen  Gosson,  author  of  *The 

St  Tophas  (a  pedantic 'mditamf))      gchoole  of  Abuse.' 

In  Halpin's  view  the  subject  of  the  play  is  the  general  relations  of 
Elizabeth  with  her  favourite  Leicester,  and  particularly  that  temporary 
disgrace  of  Leicester  brought  about  by  the  revelation  by  M.  Simier, 
envoy  of  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  in  late  July  or  August,  1579,  of  Leicester's 
marriage  with  Essex's  widow  in  the  previous  year ;  a  revelation  which 
led  Leicester's  previous  (his  second)  wife,  Lady  Sheffield  (Tellus),  to  claim 
her  own  marital  rights  in  him,  and  caused  Eli2abeth  to  order  him  to 
confine  himself  to  the  palace  at  Greenwich  (the  lunary-bank),  and  even 
to  think  of  committing  him  to  the  Tower  (the  'darke  Caue'  of  iv.  3. 
Ill) ;  a  course  from  which  she  was,  however,  dissuaded  by  the  generous 
remonstrance  of  Leicester's  great  enemy,  the  Earl  of  Sussex  (Eumenides) : 
while  Corsites,  Tellus'  gaoler,  whom  she  finally  marries,  represents  Sir 
Edward  Stafford,  on  whom  Leicester  finally  persuaded  Lady  Sheffield  to 
bestow  her  hand  ^. 

Against  this  view  of  Halpin,  Mr.  Baker  has  urged  (i)  that  it  errs  in  Baker's 
attempting  to  identify  too  many  of  the  characters.  There  is  no  necessity  changes, 
to  suppose  that  every  character  in  the  piece  had  a  definite  original 
(p.  xliv) ;  (2)  that  it  confuses  Leicester's  two  marriages,  that  with  Lady 
Sheffield  in  1573,  and  that  with  Lettice  Countess  of  Essex  in  1578.  If 
Leicester's  imprisonment  in  1579  was  caused  by  the  revelation  of  his 
marriage  to  Lady  Essex,  surely  she,  and  not  Lady  Sheffield,  is  the  proper 
original  for  Tellus,  Cynthia's  rival  (p.  xlix).  Accordingly  Mr.  Baker  sub-> 
stitutes  Lettice  as  Tellus  for  Lady  Sheffield,  regarding  Endimion's  state* 
ment  that  Tellus  has  been  but  a  cloak  for  his  affection  for  Cynthia  ',  as 
Leicester's  palliating  version  to  the  Queen  of  his  recent  marriage  (p.  1), 
and  Tellus*  'allurements  of  pleasure'  and  employment  of  Dipsas  as 
Leicester's  way  of  saying  that  he  was  '  bewitched  by  Lettice's  charms ' 
(p.  Hi) ;  while  Elizabeth's  subsequent  displeasure  with  Leicester's  new 
wife,  who  was  for  years  forbidden  to  appear  at  Court,  is  represented  by 
Tellus*  exile  to  the  castle  in  the  desert  (p.  Ivi).  Further,  Mr.  Baker 
regards  Endimion's  treatment  by  Dipsas  as  a  loose  rendering  of  Simier's 

*  Camden's  Annals  of  Elizabeth,  1579  {Hisi,  of  England,  3  vols.  fol.  1706, 
ii.  p.  471). 

^  Act  ii.  sc.  I.  22-5. 


88  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 

information  to  the  Queen  (p.  liv),  his  sleep  on  the  lunary-bank  O'lke 
Halpin)  as  meaning  generally  the  royal  disfavour,  and,  specifically, 
Leicester's  confinement  (p.  Iv),  and  Cynthia's  concern  for  Endimion's 
fate  as  the  allegorical  way  of  expressing  the  paroxysm  of  anger  with 
which  Elizabeth  received  Simier's  news, '  though  naturally,  in  the  alle* 
gory,  gratitude  for  faithful  service,  not  jealousy,  is  the  cause  of  the 
concern '  (p.  Ivi) '.  Lastly,  he  accepts  .  Halpin's  highly  improbable 
identification  of  Sussex  with  Eumenides  (p.  Ivii),  and  notes  (p.  Ixviii) 
that  the  references  to  Corsites*  strength  seem  to  point  to  some  well-known 
figure ;  but  for  the  rest  of  the  characters,  for  Geron,  Dipsas,  Bagoa, 
Floscula,  Semele,  and  Sir  Tophas,  he  attempts  no  identification  at  alL 

While  Mr.  Baker's  stricture  on  Halpin's  confusion  of  the  incidents  of 
the  two  marriages  is  a  fairly  just  one  ',  the  reader  will  scarcely  feel  that 
the  interpretation  he  substitutes  is  either  very  different  or  at  all  more 
plausible;  and  Professor  Ward's  easy  acceptance  of  it  fills  one  with 
surprise  \  Mr.  Baker's  theory  is  bound  up  with  a  belief  in  a  connexion 
between  Leicester  and  Lyly,  and  a  date  for  the  play,  as  early  as  15799 
between  the  issue  of  the  First  and  Second  Parts  of  Eupkues ;  an  opinion 
for  which  we  cannot  find  that  he  has  any  but  the  most  illusory  grounds, 
though  he  supports  it  with  considerable  ingenuity  and  a  wide  research. 
The  question  of  date  has  already  been  discussed  in  the  Prolegomena  to 
the  play.  It  depends  largely,  of  course,  on  the  view  taken  of  the  all^;ory. 
Confining  ourselves  here  to  the  latter,  we  would  point  out  that  the 
numerous  inconsistencies  into  which  Mr.  Halpin  has  fallen  are  probably 
due  to  too  narrow  a  view  taken  at  the  outset  of  the  general  subject  of 
the  play,  a  view  imposed  on  him  no  doubt  by  the  special  theory  of 
Oberon's  speech  which  he  was  advocating.  In  interpreting  the  allegory 
of  Endimion  it  is  surely  best  to  proceed  inductively.  To  attach  ourselves 
at  an  early  stage  to  a  particular  theory  and  to  deduce  our  identifications 
from  that,  is  far  less  safe  a  method  than  that  of  keeping  the  question 
of  subject  open  till  the  task  of  identification  is  far  advanced.  And  in 
the  latter  we  should  form  no  hasty  conclusion  from  a  single  point  of 
resemblance,  but,  keeping  carefully  before  us  all  the  conditions  of  a  part« 
should  cast  about  for  that  historical  personage  who  fulfils  the  most,  or 

*  Mr.  Baker  at  this  point  refers  us  back  to  his  p.  xzxiv,  where  he  quotes  La 
Ferri^re's  description  {Les  Projets  de  Mortage  de  la  Reine  Elisabeth^  pp.  220-1), 
'  A  cette  r^^lation  inattendne,  entrant  dans  one  de  les  col^res  de  lioone,  elle  se 
ronla  par  terre,  injoriant  tons  ceux  qui  I'approch^rent,  et  refnsant  de  manger.* 
Comparing  this  burst  of  mad  rage  with  the  dignified  investigation  by  Cynthia  in 
Act  lii.  sc.  I,  we  must  confess  that,  if  Mr.  Baker's  intexpretation  is  correct,  Lyly 
has  little  to  learn  in  the  art  of  discreet  translation  of  his  uicts. 

'  It  is  just  only  as  regards  the  difficulty  caused  in  selecting  a  single  original  for 
the  part  of  Tellus.  In  the  facts  connected  with  Simier's  revelation  of  1579,  as 
related  by  Halpin,  both  women  were  intimately  concerned ;  Lady  Sheffield  taking 
the  more  active  part,  while  Lady  Essex  was  perhaps,  though  passively,  the  more 
important 

*  English  Dramatic  Literature  (ed.  1899),  !•  ch.  3,  pp.  289-93. 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS  89 

fulfils  them  best  Proceeding  on  this  method,  let  us  defer  for  the  present 
any  statement  of  subject,  and  let  us  ascertain  the  leading  facts  about 
the  chief  characters  in  the  play,  and  see  how  far  Halpin's  choice  of 
representatives  corresponds  with  these. 

To  begin  with,  there  can  hardly  be  a  doubt  of  the  correctness  of  his 
identification  of  Endimion  and  Cynthia,  an  admission  which  is  tanta- 
mount to  an  acknowledgement  that  he  is  at  least  partly  right  in  supposing 
the  play  to  be  a  complimentary  version  of  the  relations  of  Leicester 
with  the  Queen.  A  certainty  almost  as  great  attaches,  in  our  judgement, 
to  his  choice  of  originals  for  Geron  and  Dipsas  in  the  Earl  and  Countess 
of  Shrewsbury,  though  he  himself  attaches  to  these  only  a  secondary 
degree  of  probability.  It  is  in  the  other  parts,  those  of  Tellus,  Corsites, 
and  Eumenides,  that  his  selections,  which  he  marks  as  '  highly  probable,' 
seem  so  singularly  unsatisfying ;  while  we  cannot  feel  that  there  is  very 
much  to  recommend  his  representatives  for  the  only  other  three  for 
which  he  suggests  any,  for  Floscula,  Semele,  and  Sir  Tophas.  Let  us 
examine  them  in  turn. 

Far  the  most  important  of  the  six,  and  technically  at  least  the  prot-  Tellus. 
agonist  of  the  plot  \  is  Tellus.  The  leading  features  about  her  are  that 
she  is  the  object  of  general  admiration  and  courtship';  tbat  she  is 
placed  in  elaborate  general  opposition  to  Cynthia ' ;  that  she  has  been 
compelled  by  Endimion's  desertion  to  abandon  her  hope  of  marrying 
him ;  that  she  plots  revenge  against  him,  a  revenge  associated  (in  the 
dream  of  Endimion)  with  dark  threatenings  of  Cynthia  herself*;  that 
she  is  imprisoned  by  Cynthia's  order,  but  still  carries  on  her  intrigues  ^ ; 
that  on  the  discovery  of  her  designs  she  is  treated  with  great  leniency, 
and  finally  married  to  her  gaoler.    Now  not  one  of  these  features  can 

'  Steinh'anser'sy^Aif  Lyly  als  Dramatiker^  P*  33  s  *  Wic  in  "  Sapho,"  so  ist  aach 
in  "  £adimion  "  der  Titelheld  nicht  der  eigentliche  Trager  der  Handlang,  sondera 
Tellus,  die  von  Endimion  verschmahte  Geliebte  .  . .  Das  Bewusstsein,  in  ihren 
heiligsten  Gefiihlen  gekrankt  zu  sein,  treibt  Tellus  zu  einer  verhaDgnissvoUen 
lliat .  .  .  Der  Hohepunkt  der  Handlung  ist  damit  erreicht.  Die  Gegenspieler 
treten  in  Gestalt  von  Cynthia  und  Eumenides  in  die  Handlung  ein.' 

'  In  ii.  3,  p.  38,  Endimion  admits  that  she  is  '  faire,'  *  wise,'  and  '  honourable,' 
and  adds,  '  Was  she  not  fortunate  whome  so  many  followed?':  while  in  iv.  i, 
p.  53,  Tellus  says,  '  Endimion  excepted,  what  is  he  that  is  not  enamourd  of  my 
bemntie?'  and  on  p.  54  she  defends  women's  shifts  to  ward  off  lovers,  'otherwise 
we  should  be  cumbred  with  importunities,  oathes,  sighes,  letters,  and  all  implements 
of  loue.' 

'  P.  34  she  indignantly  conopares  herself  with  Cynthia,  while  Floscula  gently 
urges  her  inferiority.  P.  30  '  Endimion  is  he  that  hath  my  heart ;  and  Cynthia, 
too  too  faire  Cynthia ...  is  the  Ladie  that  hee  delights  in.'  P.  38  Endimion 
elaborately  contrasts  them.  P.  75  Tellus,  in  Cynthia's  presence,  again  institutes 
a  comparison  between  herself  and  Cynthia,  though  here  she  is  more  inclmed  to 
admit  the  latter's  superiority. 

*  See  V.  I ,  pp.  60-7,  and  compare  with  the  Dumb  Show  between  the  Second 
and  Third  Acts. 

*  Cynthia  (pp.  40-1)  specially  notes  her  spiteful  and  presumptuous  speeches, 
and  in  iv.  3.  1 1 5  remarks  *  Howe  say  you,  my  Lordes,  is  not  Tellus  alwaies 
practising  of  some  deceitesi' 


90  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN   ENDIMION 

be  claimed  for  either  Lady  Sheffield  or  Lady  Essex :  or,  if  Tellus^lot 
against  Endimion  might  by  straining  be  made  to  correspond  to  Lady 
Sheffield's  claim  of  her  marital  rights,  yet  she  was  certainly  not  im- 
prisoned ;  and  if  Tellus'  exile  to  the  castle  might  represent  the  dis-> 
favour  shown  to  Lady  Essex  (after  her  marriage)^  yet  the  quiescent  part 
played  by  Lettice  is  very  ill  represented  by  this  turbulent  and  intriguing 
character ;  and  neither  lady  could  for  a  moment  claim  to  stand  in  the 
position  of  marked  opposition  to  and  competition  with  the  Queen  which 
Tellus  occupies^.  It  is  the  more  remarkable  that  Halpin,  with  War- 
burton's  interpretation  of  Oberon's  speech  before  him,  did  not  realize 
that  there  is  one  personage,  and  only  one,  to  whom  the  features  of 
Tellus'  part,  as  detailed  above,  are  really  applicable.  That  personage  is 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  Mary's  personal  beauty  and  the  romantic  passions 
she  inspired  need  no  illustration.  Throughout  the  reign,  until  her  con- 
demnation on  October  35, 1586,  she  figures  as  Elizabeth's  great  rival  and 
opponent ;  and  the  Queen's  throne  and  even  life  were  continually  in 
danger  from  the  Catholic  plots  of  which  she  was  the  centre.  With  these 
machinations  Tellus  is  connected  in  the  play  through  the  dream  of 
Endimion'.  A  project  of  marriage  between  the  Queen  of  Scots  and 
Leicester  actually  occupied  the  attention  of  Elizabeth  and  her  govern- 
ment during  the  years  1563-51  a  plan  entertained  by  Mary  at  first  with 
reluctance,  and  pressed  by  Elizabeth  with  diminishing  warmth  as  Mary's 
willingness  increased'.  The  serious  entertainment  of  this  design,  and 
the  fact  that  it  was  not  carried  out,  are  quite  sufficient  for  Lyly's  purpose, 
and  qualify  Mary  for  the  part  of  Tellus*  original  far  better  than  either 
of  the  two  ladies  hitherto  proposed.  If  Mary  cannot  be  credited  with 
any  special  plots  against  Leicester,  no  more  can  Lady  Essex,  and  hardly. 
Lady  Sheffield.  Much,  too,  may  have  passed  in  the  way  of  political  intrigue 
of  which  no  trace  remains  to-day ;  and,  in  any  case,  Mary  is  in  natural 
opposition  to  Leicester  as  a  prominent  member  of  Elizabeth's  government  \ 
The  leniency  of  Tellus'  treatment  is  abundantly  reflected  in  that  actually 
shown  to  Mary  by  Elizabeth,  who,  after  the  full  discovery  of  Norfolk's 
conspiracy  in  1572,  refused  to  comply  with  the  petition  of  Parliament 
that  she  should  be  proceeded  against  by  Bill  of  Attainder,  pleading  that 
'  she  could  not  put  to  death  the  bird  that  had  flown  to  her  for  succour 
from  the  hawk ','  and  allowed  her  to  continue  in  the  custody  of  the 

^  It  is  farther  to  be  remarked,  as  against  Halpin,  that  there  is  a  sbgular  impro- 
priety in  maldng  Tellus  (Lady  Sheffield)  confide  her  plots  against  Endimioa 
to  Floscula  (her  rival.  Lady  £^x);  and  that  Cynthia's  own  kindly  attitude  to 
Floscula,  pp.  60, 63,  is  quite  inconsistent  with  the  jealous  anger  Elizabeth  cherished 
against  Lady  Essex  as  late  as  1586.    See  Froude's  History  of  England^  xiL  170. 

^  Act  V.  sc  I,  pp.  66-7. 

'  See  Fronde's  History^  vii.  chs.  41,  43,  44  (pp.  53,  183,  185,  269,  311, 
pop.  ed.). 

*  See,  too,  what  is  said  about  the  intrigue  against  Endimion  below,  pp.  98,  io2. 

*  Froude,  x.  ch.  57,  pp.  83-91  (pop.  ed.).    Again,  after  Pan7*s  confession  in 


MARY'S  GAOLER  gt 

Catholic  Earl  of  Shrewsbury.  She  was  in  fact  looked  upon  at  this  time 
(1573  and  1574)  as  heir  to  the  crown,  and  had,  says  Froude,  'all  the 
enjoyments  of  English  country  life^'  The  comparative  laxity  of 
Shrewsbury's  guardianship,  which  in  1569  had  induced  the  Queen  to 
associate  the  Earl  of  Huntingdon  temporarily  with  him  in  the  charge  of 
her*,  is  in  exact  accord  with  the  indulgence  shown  to  Tellus  by  Corsites, 
irhose  passion  for  his  captive  has  also  its  counterpart  in  the  slanders 
circulated  at  Court  by  Shrewsbury's  Countess  as  to  his  improper  intimacy 
^th  Mary  '.  The  single  point  that  makes  against  Tellus  as  Mary  is  her 
final  marriage  with  her  gaoler ;  but  concluding  marriages  are  a  necessity 
of  comedy,  and  can  hardly  be  pleaded  in  bar  of  my  interpretation. 
A  further  little  sign  of  Tellus*  rank  and  importance  is  that  she  is  addressed 
by  Floscula,  p.  23,  as '  Madame,'  a  title  of  respect  elsewhere  reserved,  both 
in  Endimion  and  Sapho^  for  the  Queen  herself  ^ 

There  could  scarcely  be  stronger  evidence  of  error  in  Halpin's  choice  Corsites. 
of  Lady  Sheffield  for  Tellus,  than  that  it  leads  him  to  that  of  Sir  Edward 
Stafford  for  Corsites.  Corsites  is  a  soldier,  whose  great  physical  strength  *, 
'tough  and  unsmoothed  nature ^'  and  honest  simplicity  of  character^, 
are  variously  dwelt  upon.  Appointed  gaoler  of  Tellus,  his  passion  for  her 
leads  him  to  relax  her  confinement ;  and  her  blandishments  induce  him 
further  to  undertake  an  office  vaguely  hostile  to  Endimion,  but  fore- 
doomed, as  she  knows,  to  failure.  He  is  attacked  and  punished  by 
fairies,  but  united  in  the  end  to  Tellus.  Sir  Edward  Stafford  satisfies  no 
single  one  of  these  conditions,  saving  that  of  marriage  with  Tellus  ^, 

Feb.  1585  of  his  plot  to  assassinate  Elizabeth  with  the  design  of  placing  Maiy  on 
the  throne,  a  motion  was  made  in  Parliament  to  revive  the  proceedings  against  her 
whidb  had  been  dropped  in  1572,  but  was  again  damped  by  Elizabeth,  who  in  the 
speech  from  the  throne  at  the  close  of  the  session  defended  her  indulgent  policy 
(Id.  xi.  544-6).  This  recent  instance  of  the  Queen's  generosity,  or  hesitation,  is, 
I  believe,  alluded  to  by  Panelion  and  Zontes  (v.  3,  p.  7 1),  who  discuss  the  treatment 
of  Tellus  as  though  it  were  a  parallel,  and  not  the  identical  case : — '  Pan.  I  maruell 
what  Cynthia  wiu  determine  in  this  cause  ?  Zon,  I  feare,  as  in  all  causes,  heare 
of  it  in  iustice,  and  then  iudge  of  it  in  mercy :  for  howe  can  it  be  that  shee  that  is 
TQwilling  to  punish  her  deadliest  foes  with  disgrace,  will  reuenge  iniuries  of  her 
trayne  with  death  ? ' 

*  History f  xi.  70. 

'  Froude,  viii.  433,  480,  490,  &&,  and  article  '  Hastings,  Henry,  3"^  Earl  of 
Huntingdon,*  ^  Diet.  Nat.  Biog. 

*  Camden*s  Eliutbeth^  1584.  In  a  letter  to  Walsingham,  dated  Oct.  18,  158a, 
Shrewsbury  writes,  *  Among  the  rest  of  my  false  accusations,  your  Honour  knoweth 
that  I  have  been  touched  with  some  undutiful  respects  touching  the  Queen  of 
Scots,  but  I  am  very  well  able  to  prove  she  hath  shewed  herself  an  enemy  to  me, 
and  to  my  fortune ;  and  that  I  trust  will  sufficiently  clear  me.*  (Lodge's  Illustra" 
tioMs,  ii.  239  :  see  also  pp.  243,  275.) 

*  In  view  of  Mary*s  position  in  1585,  ii.  3.  15-6  cannot  be  urged  against  this, 

*  Act  iv.  sc.  3.  13,  135.  •  P.  61.  'P.  54. 

■  By  way  of  strengthening  his  case  Halpin  suggests  {flherotCs  Vision,  p.  63) 
that  Lady  Sheffield  may  have  been  committed  to  Stafford's  custody  by  Leicester 
previously,  for  better  concealment  of  her  marriage  with  himself,  but  offers  no 
grounds  iox  such  a  supposition  save  Elizabeth's  general  dislike  of  marriages  made 
■without  her  consent.    With  regard  to  her  union  with  Stafford,  whose  second  vrife 


52  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 

a  match  probably  due,  as  suggested  above,  to  the  necessity  of  pairing 
the  characters  of  the  comedy.  Stafford  was  not  a  soldier  but  a  diplomatist 
(a  character  in  which  a  rugged  honesty  and  simplicity  are  not  as  a  rule 
leading  constituents),  who  conducted  the  negotiations  about  the  Anjou 
match  in  1579-82,  and  in  1583  was  appointed  resident  ambassador  to 
France,  where  he  remained  till  the  end  of  1590^  A  far  more  suitable 
original  for  Corsites  is  found  in  the  stem  and  rigidly  honest  Sir  Amyas 
Paulet,  a  zealous  Puritan  and  favourer  of  the  Huguenots,  who,  after 
a  term  as  governor  of  Jersey,  occupied  the  post  of  French  ambassador 
from  1576-9.  His  stem  demeanour  was  displeasing  to  Leicester,  but 
on  Walsingham's  suggestion  he  was  appointed  to  the  custody  of  the 
Queen  of  Scots,  an  office  which  he  assumed  on  April  17,  1585,  and 
executed  with  such  close  watchfulness  and  unswerving  fidelity  as  won 
him  due  reward  after  Mary's  death  K  The  Queen  of  Scots  made  a  vain 
endeavour  to  corrupt  his  honesty,  hinting  that  if  ever  she  came  to  the 
throne  '  he  might  have  another  manner  of  assurance  of  that  island  than 
ever  was  given  to  an  English  subject " ' ;  but  Paulet  told  her  plainly  that 
he  was  not  to  be  seduced  from  his  allegiance.  This  incident,  which 
affords  a  parallel  for  Tellus'  deceptive  promises  to  Corsites  (iv.  i.  p.  54), 
is  related  by  Froude  as  occurring  at  the  commencement  of  Paulet*s 
appointment  in  1585.  Among  other  details  of  his  guardianship  of  Mary, 
Froude  relates  that  when  she  wished  her  apartments,  which  looked  upon 
the  castle  court,  changed  to  others  conmianding  a  view  of  the  open 
country,  Paulet  refused,  from  a  conviction  that  she  would  use  the  oppor- 
tunity thus  afforded  to  exchange  signals  with  some  of  the  messengers 
ever  on  the  watch  to  carry  communications  to  her  friends  ^  This  detail 
is  probably  the  suggestion  of  Tellus'  remark—*  I  maruell  Corsites  giueth 
me  so  much  libertie :  all  the  world  knowing  his  charge  to  bee  so  high, 
and  his  nature  to  bee  most  straunge ;  who  hath  so  ill  intreated  Ladies 
of  great  honour,  that  he  hath  not  suffered  them  to  /00k  out  of  windcwes^ 
much  lesse  to  walke  abrode ' :  and  her  further  remark  at  the  end  of  the 
scene,  *  I  will  in,  and  laugh  with  the  other  Ladies  at  Corsites  sweating,' 
probably  has  reference  to  the  mischievous  enjoyment  by  Mary  and  hei: 
train  of  their  continual  efforts  to  elude  her  gaoler's  vigilance '. 

she  was,  Halpin  ihows  (p.  39)  that  Sussex  could  not  have  pleaded  on  Leicester's 
behalf  that  '  no  man  was  to  be  troubled  for  a  lawful  marriage '  (i.  e.  to  Lettioe), 
had  not  Lady  Sheffield  previously  withdrawn  her  claim  to  be  I^icester's  wife.  On 
the  authority  of  Dugdale  he  tells  us  that  she  was  induced  to  do  so  at  an  interview 
with  Leicester  '  in  the  close  arbour  of  the  Queen's  garden  at  Greenwich,*  on  con- 
sideration of  receiving  from  Leicester  ;f  700  a  year ;  and  that  she  probably  married 
Staff'ord  about  this  time,  i.e.  autunm  of  1579. 

*  Diet,  of  Nat,  Biog,,  art.  'Stafford,  Sir  lidward.' 

*  Diet,  of  Nat.  Biog^,  art.  *  Paulet,  Sir  Amyas/ 

*  Froude,  xi.  ch.  67,  p.  576.    Ihe  attempt  was  made  on  the  suggestion  of 
Mor£an,  Mary's  agent  in  Paris. 

*  Ibid.,  p.  579. 

'  Act  iv.  sc.  J,  pp.  5a,  54.    The  anxious  attention  of  Parliament  and  the  natioi^ 


CORSITES  A  COMBINATION  93 

Of  coantf  however,  I  have  to  admit  that  Sir  Amyas'  severity  is  an  ill  As  Tellus* 
representative  of  Corsites'  indulgence  and  amorous  weakness  for  his  S&ol^r,  he 
captive.  Of  this  inconsistency  I  offer  the  following  defence.  In  the  shrews- 
first  place,  if  my  identification  of  Tellus  with  Mary  be  correct,  it  was  bnry  and 
desirable  for  Lyly  to  give  us  ocular  illustration  of  the  fatal  power  of  her  P^^^lct. 
seductions  and  that  universal  attraction  of  which  Tellus  boasts  ^ :  and  if 
he  has  to  some  extent  falsified  facts  in  doing  so,  the  falsification  stops  with 
itself,  and  leaves  the  issue  quite  untouched.  Tellus  knows,  and  explicitly 
forewarns  us,  that  Corsites'  attempt  on  Endimion  will  be  void  of  effect ; 
and,  if  we  must  acknowledge  here  some  defect  of  dramatic  construction, 
the  episode  at  least  serves  the  purpose  of  introducing  the  ballet  of  Fairies, 
a  welcome  divertissement  which  Lyly  has  employed  before  in  Gallathea  ^ 
without,  however,  in  that  case  taking  the  necessary  trouble  to  give  them 
a  proper  connexion  with  the  action.  But  I  believe  the  episode  may  be 
shown  to  have  its  proper  place  in  the  allegory  itself,  if  we  remember  the 
compression  and  recombination  of  events  imposed  on  the  historic,  still 
more  perhaps  on  the  allegorical,  dramatist  Tellus  (Mary)  is  the  real 
centre  of  the  plot.  The  extraordinary  indulgence  of  Elizabeth's  treatment 
of  her,  the  absence  of  anything  like  undue  severity  or  oppression  in  her 
confinement,  this  was  what  was  filling  men's  minds  in  1585,  this  is  the 
point  on  which  the  Court  dramatist  could  without  flattery  insist.  Now 
much  in  Corsites  that  is  hardly  true  of  Sir  Amyas  Paulet  is  abundantly 
true  of  Mar/s  former  gaoler,  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  as  I  indicated 
above  when  dealing  directly  with  Tellus'.  Shrewsbury,  her  custodian 
from  1569  to  August,  1584,  though  on  the  whole  faithful  to  Elizabeth, 
seems  not  to  have  been  quite  unsusceptible  to  Mary's  charms,  or  at  least 
to  her  influence.  In  April,  1571,  at  the  time  of  Norfolk's  conspiracy, 
Ridolfi  actually  reported  to  Alva  that  Shrewsbury  was  privy  to  the  plot 
to  rescue  Mary  and  place  her  upon  the  throne,  and  had  promised  to 
protect  her  until  the  Scotch  army  came  to  the  rescued  This  was 
probably  an  exaggeration  ;  at  any  rate,  from  the  time  of  the  discovery  of 
the  conspiracy  in  October,  1571,  there  was  no  wavering  in  Shrewsbury's 
loyalty  to  Elizabeth,  and  his  surveillance  over  Mary  became  much  more 
strict  ^,  But  by-and-by,  when  it  was  ascertained  that  Elizabeth  would 
not,  perhaps  dared  not,  adopt  those  extreme  measures  against  her  which 
Parliament  desired,  the  Queen  of  Scots  again  became  a  centre  of  influence 
and  intrigue ;  and  Shrewsbury,  who  favoured  the  idea  of  her  succession, 
did  not  wholly  escape  implication.    It  was  said  that  he  had  promised 

concentrated  at  this  time  (1585)  upon  Mary  and  her  schemes,  wonld  ensure  such 
details  being  promptly  reported  and  repeated  at  Court,  and  the  allusions  in  the 
play  would  count  as  very  palpable  hits.  The  apparent  dissociation  of  the  first 
from  Tellus  herself  is  a  transparent  device  to  secure  the  author,  like  the  speech  of 
Zontes  quoted  in  note  5  on  p.  90  above. 

^  Act  iv.  sc.  I,  p.  52.  *  Act  ii.  sc.  3.  5.  '  P.  91,  and  note  3* 

*  Froude,  x.  203  :  cf.  Act  iv.  sc.  i .  36.  •        .      *  Id.,  x.  295-6. 


94  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 

her  that,  on  the  Queen's  death,  he  would  himself  place  the  crown  upon  her 
head  ^  At  any  rate  he  allowed  himself  to  be  drawn  by  Mary  and  his 
Countess  into  a  scheme  by  which  Mary's  brother-in-law,  Lord  Charles 
Stuart,  was  secretly  married  to  Elizabeth  Cavendish,  Lady  Shrewsbury's 
daughter  by  a  former  husband  ;  a  marriage  which,  as  strengthening 
Mary's  family  connexion  in  England,  gave  the  direst  offence  to  Elisabeth, 
causing  her  to  commit  Lady  Lennox  (the  bridegroom's  mother,  and  a  party 
to  the  plot)  to  the  Tower,  and  bringing  down  on  Shrewsbury  a  severe 
rebuke,  under  which  he  tried  to  excuse  himself  by  laying  the  blame  upon 
his  wife.  Here  we  have  an  adequate  original  for  Corsites*  temporary 
and  partial  disloyalty  to  Cynthia  under  Tellus'  promptings;  and  even 
some  connexion  with  Endimion  is  supplied  in  that  bad  entertainment 
of  Leicester  at  Chatsworth  and  Buxton,  when  on  a  sanatory  visit  to  the 
baths,  of  which  Elizabeth  complained  in  a  sarcastic  letter  to  the  Shrews- 
buries  dated  June  4,  1577 '•  At  a  later  period  too,  1582-4,  we  get  those 
distinct  slanders  about  the  intimacy  between  Shrewsbury  and  Mary  which 
his  Countess,  who  was  at  enmity  with  him  from  1580  to  1586,  circulated 
about  the  Court,  and  which  Lyly  probably  intends  to  represent  by  the 
Fairies'  pinches,  from  whose  effects  he  may  recover  by  the  use  of  lunary  ', 
i.  e.  by  direct  appeal  to  Elizabeth.  It  is  then,  as  I  believe,  rather  the 
relations  between  Mary  and  her  former  gaoler  that  Lyly  has  in  mind  in 
this  amorous  weakness  of  Corsites.  In  TeUus'  gaoler  he  attempts  to 
embody  the  general  treatment  of  Mary  in  her  captivity ;  though  in  his 
native  character  and  in  certain  allusions  Corsites  represents  exclusively 
her  gaoler  at  the  time  of  writing.  Sir  Amyas  Paulet.  Such  transference 
assists  the  partial  mystification  which  has  to  be  maintained ;  and  leaves 
Lyly  free  to  represent  in  Geron  and  Dipsas  the  relations  between 
Shrewsbury  and  his  Countess,  and  the  royal  displeasure  under  which  the 
former  especially  rested. 
Eamenides.  But  of  all  Halpin's  identifications  that  of  Sussex  with  Eumenides  is 
probably  the  one  that  will  least  commend  itself  to  the  student  The 
leading  features  of  the  character  are  that  he  is  the  chivalrous  and  devoted 
friend  of  Endimion,  the  chivalrous  and  devoted  lover  of  Semele ;  that  his 
unselfish  desire  to  aid  his  friend  entails  on  him  a  long  absence  from  the 
Court,  and  that  a  noble  sacrifice  of  his  love  to  friendship  is  instrumental 
in  bringing  about  Endimion's  restoration;  that  he  offers  his  tongue  to 
ransom  Semele's,  and  finally  obtains  his  mistress*  hand.  To  represent 
all  this  chivalrous  devotion  Halpin  selects  Leicester's  most  bitter  opponent, 
Sussex,  on  the  sole  ground  that,  in  the  affair  of  Simier's  revelation,  which 
he  regards  as  the  main  subject  of  the  play,  Sussex  with  no  less  justice 

*  Froude,  xi.  71. 

'  Fronde  gives  tbit  letter  as  if  it  were  the  seqael  or  conclusion  of  this  secret 
marriage  plotted  between  Mary,  Ladj  Lennox,  and  the  Shrewsbnries,  vol.  x.  ch.  60, 
pp.  39?-403  (pop.  ed.). 

'  Act  iv.  sc.  3,  p.  6a. 


SIDNEY  AND  LEICESTER  95 

tban  generosity  pleaded  against  too  harsh  a  treatment  of  the  favourite  \ 
But  Eumenides  is  obviously  young,  as  his  talk  with  Geron  implies ;  while 
Sussex,  bom  '1526?",  died  at  the  age  of  say  fifty-five  in  1583,  an 
additional  argument  against  him,  if  my  date  (1585)  for  the  play  be  correct. 
There  is  one  name  that  rises  instinctively  to  the  lips  when  acts  that  are 
lovely  and  noble  and  of  good  report  are  mentioned— one  that  still  falls 
upon  the  ear  like  refreshing  music  in  this  hard  heart-wearying  age  of 
brassy  even  as  its  bearer  softens  and  shames  with  his  mild  lustre  the 
coarser  flames  and  gaudier  heroics  of  that  iron  time — the  name  of 

'that  pensive  Hesper  light 
O'er  Chivdiys  departed  sun,' 

Sir  Philip  Sidney.  Can  the  relations  of  Eumenides  in  the  play  be  made 
to  square  with  him?  It  would  seem  that  he  particularly  suits  them. 
Supposing  Endimion*s  slumber  and  estrangement  from  Cynthia  to 
represent  the  disfavour  of  Leicester  during  his  opposition  to  the  Anjou 
match,  we  find  that  Leicester's  policy  was  fully  endorsed  by  his  nephew 
Sidney,  who  ventured  early  in  1580  his  well-known  letter  to  the  Queen 
against  the  match,  and  as  a  consequence  was  compelled  to  spend  seven 
months  of  that  year  in  retirement  at  Wilton,  his  return  to  Court  coinciding 
with  Leicester's  restoration  to  favour '.  Again  towards  the  end  of  1 584 
Sidney  wrote  a  formal  Defence  of  Leicester  in  answer  to  the  attack  by  the 
Jesuit,  Parsons,  entitled  Leicester's  Commonweaith\  and  though  the 
Defence  was  not  printed  before  1746,  its  contents  were  probably  well 
known  at  Court.  At  the  very  time  when  Endimion  was  probably  produced 
(Feb.  2,  1586)  Sidney  is  serving  with  his  uncle  in  the  Netherlands, 
having  left  England  as  governor  of  Flushing  on  November  16.  Sidney  thus 
affords  a  sufficiently  close  parallel  for  Eumenides'  championship  of  his 
friend  and  exile  from  Court  on  that  account  The  question  of  his  post- 
ponement of  love  to  friendship  brings  us  to  Semele. 

Halpin  identifies  her  with  Frances  Sidney,  Sir  Philip's  cousin ;  a  selection  Semele. 
made,  apparently,  because  Frances  was  the  second  wife  of  Sussex,  whom 
he  has  already  selected  for  Eumenides,  though  he  tries  to  strengthen  it  by 
the  suggestion  that  Semele's  petulance  with  Endimion^  may  represent 

^  Mr.  Baker  argues  in  Halpin's  rapport  that — '  The  two  men  were  not  friends, 
but  they  were  fellow-councillors'  {Endymion^  p.  Ivii);  reasoning  which  reminds 
us  of  that  by  which  he  essays  to  prove  an  early  coimexion  between  Leicester  and 
Lyly,  namely,  that  Lyly  was  an  undergraduate  of  the  university  of  which  Leicester 
was  Chancellor,  that  he  was  still  at  Oxford  at  the  date  of  the  Kenil worth  festivities 
(I575)»  a^d  that  Leicester  was  the  general  patron  of  men  of  wit !  (pp.  xxxv,  Ixxiii). 

»  Did.  Nat.  Biog.,  art.  '  Radcliffe,  Thos.,  3'*  Earl  of  Sussex.' 

'  '  In  the  course  of  the  summer  (1580)  Leicester  left  his  retirement  and  returned 
to  Court.  It  was  understood  that  though  still  not  liking  the  French  match,  he 
would  in  future  offer  no  opposition  to  the  queen*s  wishes;  and  on  these  terms 
he  induced  Philip  also  to  make  his  peace  with  her  Majesty.  We  find  him  [Sidney], 
accordingly,  again  in  London  before  the  autumn.'  {Engiish  Men  of  Letters — 
Sidney f  by  J.  A.  Symonds,  p.  97.) 

*  Act  iii.  1 ,  p.  40,  iv.  3,  p.  60  and  OberorCs  Vision,  p.  65. 


96  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 

Frances'  annoyance  at  Leicester's  marriage  as  likely  to  deprive  Sir  Philip 
of  his  succession  to  Leicester's  property.  As  with  Tellus  and  Corsites, 
Halpin's  interpretation  here  owns  a  needless  constraint  in  the  pairing 
of  Semele  and  Eumenides  at  the  end ;  a  match  which,  as  in  that  case, 
may  be  regarded  as  merely  a  stage-necessity.  My  own  suggestion  for 
Semele,  who  is  distinguished  in  the  play  by  her  long  coldness  to  her 
lover,  by  her  waspish  tongue  and  the  displeasure  it  brings  upon  her,  is 
Philip's  flame,  Lady  Penelope  Devereux,  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 
Essex,  who  became  Lady  Rich  in  1581,  with  the  result,  apparently,  of 
increasing  Philip's  passion  ^  I  do  not  know  whether  waspishness  can 
correctly  be  attributed  to  Stella :  beauty  and  coquetry  certainly  can  ;  and 
a  match  between  her  and  Philip  had  been  arranged  as  far  back  as  1576, 
but  was  broken  off  by  Philip's  father.  Sir  Henry  Sidney,  after  Essex's 
death  at  Dublin  on  September  21  of  that  year,  probably  because  Leicester, 
the  Sidneys'  near  relation,  was  darkly  associated  in  popular  suspicion  with 
Essex's  end'.  I  suggest  that  this  probable  reason  for  the  breach  of 
Philip's  engagement  offers  us  our  required  parallel  for  Eumenides' 
postponement  of  love  to  friendship ;  that  the  length  of  his  connexion  with 
Penelope  is  reflected  by  the  seven  years  of  silent  worship  of  which 
Eumenides  speaks ' ;  and  that  the  offer  of  his  tongue  to  ransom  Semele's 
is  an  allusion  to  the  Astropkel  and  Stella  sonnets,  or  at  least  that  such 
allusion  is  found  in  Cynthia's  reply  '  What !  should'st  thou  liue  wanting 
a  tongue  to  blaze  the  beauty  of  Semele  *  ? ' 

Finally,  the  possible  severance  about  this  time  of  Lyl/s  relations  with 
the  Earl  of  Oxford,  relations  which  we  know  to  have  been  clouded  in 
1582',  may  perhaps  have  driven  him  into  the  arms  of  the  Leicester 
faction ;  and,  if  this  be  true,  he  would  find  additional  reason  for  a  flattering 


*  Sjrmonds'  Sidney  pp.  96,  37. 

^  But  the  acknowledged  opposition  between  Leicester  and  Essex  would  con- 
stitute reason  enough,  without  the  suggestion  of  foul  play  in  the  latter's  death. 
Halpin  {^OberorCs  Vision^  p.  35)  tells  us  that  the  intrigue  between  Leicester  and 
Lady  Essex  began  in  1574,  and  that  Essex  on  his  return  from  Ireland  in  1575  did 
not  attempt  to  conceal  his  indignation  against  the  favourite.  He  suspeiks  the 
honesty  of^  the  verdict  of  natural  death  returned  at  the  inquest  on  Essex  held  by 
Sir  Henry  Sidnev's  direction  as  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland ;  and  refers  us  to  Camden's 
Annals  of  Elizaheth^  l$7^>  '^"^  Parsons*  Secret  Memoirs y  p.  31. 

For  the  breaking  off  of  Philip's  engagement  to  Penelope  see  Symonds'  Sidney, 
pp.  35-6.  Symonds  suggests  an  old  grudge  entertained  by  Sir  Henry  against 
Essex. 

*  Act  iii.  sc.  4.  53-6.  'Howe  hardly  hath  shee  rewarded  thee,  without  cause 
or  colour  of  despight  I  Howe  secrete  hast  thou  beene  these  seauen  yeeres,  that 
hast  not,  nor  once  darest  not  to  name  her,  for  discontenting  her.  Howe  iaythfull ! 
that  hast  offered  to  die  for  her,  to  please  her.' 

*  Act  V.  sc.  3.  230.  *  Astrothel  and  Stella  had  circulated  among  its  author's 
private  friends  for  at  least  four  years  when  Zutphen  [Sept.  23,  1586]  robbed 
England  of  her  poet-hero'  (Symonds*  Sidney  ^  p.  95). 

^Letter  of  Lyly  to  Burleigh,  July  1583  {Lansdozvne  MS.  36,  Art.  76),  quoted 
in  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  38. 


SHREWSBURY  AND  HIS  COUNTESS  97 

portrait  of  Sir  Phiiip  in  the  latter's  violent  quarrel   with  Oxford  in 
September  1579  ^ 

With  regajd  to  Genm  and  Dipsas  I  have  already  admitted  that  no  Geron  and 
better  connterpart  for  then:  relations  can  be  found  than  those  of  the  Earl  ^P*^* 
and  Countess  of  Shrewsbury,  which  Halpin  suggests.  'Bess  of  Hardwick' 
was  the  most  notable  shrew  of  her  time ;  and  Lodge's  lllusiraiions  teems 
with  evidence  of  her  quarrel  with  and  slander  kA  her  husband',  a  quarrel 
not  made  up  (by  the  Queen)  until  1566,  and  not  finally  then^  Shrewsbury's 
long  absence  from  Court  during  his  custody  of  Mary  is,  no  doubt,  the 
original  of  Geron's  exile.  On  Aug.  5,  1582,  he  writes  to  the  Queen 
'Having  these  ten  years  been  secluded  from  your  most  gracious  sight 
and  hi4>py  presence,  which  more  grieveth  me  than  any  travel  or  discom- 
modity that  I  have  suffered  in  this  charge  that  it  hath  pleased  your 
Majesty  to  put  me  in  trust  withal,  I  have  taken  the  boldness'  to  beg 
a  fortnight's  leave  of  absence  from  his  post  in  order  to  come  to  Court 
and  clear  himself  of  malicious  accusations  ^  Not  till  the  autumn  of  1584, 
after  he  had  been  released  from  his  charge,  was  the  opportunity  granted 
him ;  when  '  being  lately  come  tmto  the  Court,'  at  a  meeting  of  the  Privy 
Council  at  which  Burleigh,  Leicester,  the  elder  Sidney,  Hatton  and 
Walsingham  were  present,  he  refused  to  take  his  seat  amongst  them  as 
a  privy  councillor  until  he  was  cleared  by  them  of  disloyalty  in  the 
execution  of  his  charge;  and  the  Council,  readily  acceding,  recorded 
a  special  minute  to  that  effect,  which  Dugdale  speaks  of  as  'a  memorable 
Testimonial  V  These  vague  charges  disseminated  by  Shrewsbury's  wife 
are,  as  Halpin  perceived,  very  like  the  vague  displeasure  of  Cynthia 
under  which  Geron  rests  and  which  is  due  to  Dipsas'  arts " ;  and  Dares' 
mention  of  a  pathetic  speech  made  by  Geron  on  his  return  to  Court  ^  is 
surely  an  allusion  to  this  scene  in  the  Privy  Council,  of  which  Lyly  may 

^  Symonds  {^Sidney,  pp.  67-8)  quotes  Greville'i  detailed  accotmt  of  the  quarrel. 

'  The  difference  seems  to  have  commenced  in  1577,  when  she  wbhed  him  to 
move  with  Muy  from  Sheffield  to  Chatsworth.  In  1579  his  allowance  from  the 
Treasury  was  reduced  by  about  one  quarter.  Towards  the  close  of  1583  the 
Countess  left  her  husband  {Diet.  Nat.  Biog,^  art.  'Talbot,  Elizabeth,  Countess  of 
Shrewsbury').  On  Oct  18,  1583,  Shrewsbory  writes  to  Walsingham  defending 
himself  against  the  cbai^ge  of  disaffection  to  Elisabeth  and  *  undutifid  respects ' 
with  whidi  he  has  been  touched  'touching  the  queen  of  Scots'  (Xx>dge*s  lUus- 
irations,  ii.  339).  On  Aug.  8, 1584,  he  writes  to  Leicester,  alluding  to  '  my  wicked 
and  malicious  wife,'  and  his  son's  partisanship  with  her  (Id ,  ii.  243) :  while  on 
Nov.  9,  1585,  there  is  allnsioD  in  a  further  letter  to  'my  wife  and  her  imps' 
(Id.,  ii.  375). 

»  Calendar  of  State  Papers  (Domestic),  1581-90,  pp.  451-5.  In  1589  the 
Queen  again  writes  desiring;  him  to  allow  his  wife  access. 

*  Lodge's  Illustrations,  iu  338. 

^  Lodge's  Illustrations y  ii.  347  ;  the  minute  is  dated  *  At  Oatlands  15  Sept.  1584* 
(No.  189). 

*  Cf.  Act  iii.  sc  4,  p.  53  'vnto  Cynthia  must  I  discouer  all  my  sorrowes,  who 
also  must  worke  in  mee  a  contentment,'  and  v.  3,  p.  72. 

'  Act  v.  sc.  I,  p.  63  (after  a  remark  on  Eumenides'  strange  tale)  *The  other 
old  man,  what  a  sad  speech  vsed  he,  that  caused  vs  almost  all  to  weepe.' 

BOND  III  H 


98  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 

well  enough  have  heard  some  account.    There  is,  perhaps,  little  historical 

warrant  for  crediting  Lady  Shrewsbury  with  special  hostility  to  Leicester, 

unless  it  was  she  who  informed  Simier  of  his  marriage  with  Lettice :  but 

it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  action  of  Dipsas  against  Endimion  is  undertaken 

with  reluctance  and  purely  at  Tellus'  prompting,  'for/  says  Dipsas,  'from 

lier  gather  wee  all  our  simples  to  maintaine  our  sorceries^' ;  while  in  the 

marriage  of  Lord  Charles  Stuart,  referred  to  above  ^  we  have  a  definite 

plot  organized  between  Mary  and  the  Countess  (Tellus  and  Dipsas) 

which  gave  the  greatest  displeasure  to  the  Queen.    The  intrigue  against 

Endimion,  indeed,  is  scantly  supported  in  the   Court  history  by  any 

similar  intrigue  of  moment  against  Leicester ;  and  if  this  point  of  the 

parallel  were  to  be  pressed,  we  should  rather  have  to  identify  Dipsas  with 

Catherine  de'  Medici,  as  standing  behind  Simier  in  his  revelation  of 

Leicester's  marriage.    This,  however,  would  deprive  us  of  the  obvious 

correspondence  of  Geron  and  Dipsas  to  the  Shrewsbury  couple ;  and  it  is 

far  more  probable  that  the  plot  against  Endimion  is,  chiefly,  the  author's 

device  for  linking  together  the  different  personages  of  his  plot,  while 

it  serves  to  enlist  sympathy  for  his  hero,  the  favourite. 

Floscula  Of  the  remaining  characters  Floscula  and  Bagoa  alone  are  of  any 

and  Bagoa.  importance  to  the   allegory,  though  Sir  Tophas   may  possibly  claim 

a  definite  original.    Floscula  appears  to  hold  the  post  of  confidential 

attendant  to  Tellus,  though  she  does  not  accompany  her  in  exile.    Bagoa 

is  maid  to  Dipsas,  and  entirely  subject  to  her  authority.    Both  women 

feel  a  warm  sympathy  for  Endimion.    Floscula,  after  a  vain  endeavour  to 

dissuade  Tellus,  dissociates  herself  definitely  from  her  schemes  '.    Bagoa, 

used  as  an  instrument,  betrays  the  plot  to  Cynthia's  councillors,  is  changed 

to  an  aspen  by  Dipsas,  but  retransformed  by  Cynthia.    Floscula's  feeling 

for  Elndimion  is  the  subject  of  a  suspicious  question  by  Cynthia  \  and 

of  a  slighting  remark  by  Eumenides  ^  ;  while  Endimion  on  his  recovery 

assures  her  of  the  continuance  of  his  'former  affections":  but  as  an 

agent  in  his  restoration  she  takes  no  part.    I  confess  I  am  tempted  by 

Halpin's    identification   of  her  with   Lady  Essex,  and   of  both  with 

Shakespeare's  '  little  western  flower ' ;  for  Shakespeare,  it  is  clear,  knew 

Lyly's  work  through  and  through,  and  the  translation  of  Lyly's  Cynthia, 

Tellus,  and  Floscula  into  his  own  '  cold  moon,' '  the  earth,'  and  the  '  little 

western  flower  V  is  both  literal  and  quite  consistent  with  the  other 

contents  of  Oberon's  speech,  especially  if  Lyly's  Tellus  be  Mary  Queen 

of  Scots.    Nor  need  we  be  disturbed  by  the  specific  epithet  '  western,' 

^  Act  ii.  sc.  3.  38.     It  is  probably  an  allusion  to  the  allowance  the  Shrews- 
buries  received  for  Mary's  support 

*  p.  94- 

'  Act  i.  sa  4.  5  '  I  will  in  this  case  neither  gine  counsell  nor  consent.' 

*  Act  iv.  sc.  3.  61  *  Are  you  in  loue  with  his  person  ?' 

'  Act  V.  sc.  1. 148  *  Doe  not  that  wrong  to  the  setled  friendship  of  a  man,  as 
to  compare  it  with  the  Ught  affection  of  a  woman.' 

*  Act  V.  sc.  3.  197.  '  06eroH*s  Vinm,  p.  87, 


LADY  ESSEX  OR  FRANCES  HOWARD  99 

which  seems  at  first  to  justify  Boaden  in  pointing  to  Amy  Robsart ;  for, 
accompanied  as  it  is  by  the  *  fair  vestal  throned  by  the  west/  '  western  * 
need  mean  no  more  than  'English.'  Shakespeare,  at  any  rate,  who 
follows  Lyly  in  this  allegory  as  in  several  other  points  of  the  Midsummer 
Ni^ifs  Dream'^y  may  well  have  believed  that  Lettice  was  meant. 
Certainly  no  other  passion  of  Leicester's  is  of  such  historical  importance 
as  to  entitle  its  subject  to  a  mention  along  with  Mary  and  Elizabeth ;  and 
if  the  flower  be  allegorical  at  all,  the  line 

'Before  milk-white,  now  purple  with  love's  wound,' 

is  beautifully  applicable  in  Halpin's  sense,  though  we  may  not  like  to  see 
our  favourite  poet  making  courtly  allusions  to  criminal  intrigue.  It  is 
significant,  too,  that  Floscula,  whose  confessed  'goodwill'  to  him 
Endimion  owns,  in  Cynthia's  absence,  to  be  'better  then  I  haue 
deserued ','  remains,  like  Cynthia,  unpaired  at  the  close ;  while  Tellus, 
Semde,  Bagoa  and  Dipsas  all  find  a  mate.  Halpin  tells  us  that  Leicester 
regained  Elizabeth's  favour  in  1579  by  denying  on  oath  that  he  was 
married  to  Lettice  ' ;  and  Lyly  may  be  adopting  the  view  which  the  Queen 
preferred,  in  public,  to  accept.  Cynthia's  dispassionate  tone  to  Floscula  ^ 
and  her  insignificance  to  the  action,  are  not  out  of  harmony  with  such 
a  view :  yet  as  they  are  quite  irreconcileable  with  the  real  facts  as  regards 
Lady  Essex,  I  suggest  as  an  alternative  Frances  Howard,  third  daughter 
of  Lord  Howard  of  Eflingham.  On  May  11,  1573,  Gilbert  Talbot 
writes  to  his  father  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  that  the  sisters,  Lady  Sheffield 
and  Frances  Howard,  are  both  *  very  far  in  love'  with  Leicester*,  and  the 
latter's  active  sympathy  with  him  at  the  period  of  his  disgrace  is  shown 
by  the  part  she  took  in  a  ruse  to  revive  Elizabeth's  tenderness  for  him. 
A  beseeching  letter,  addressed  by  Leicester  to  Burleigh,  but  meant  for  the 
royal  eye,  was  handed  by  her  to  Burleigh  in  the  presence-chamber,  and 
dropped  in  the  handing,  with  the  expected  result  that  the  Queen  demanded 
to  see  it*.  Floscula's  superfiuousness  to  the  action  is  some  reason  for 
supposing  that  she  was  not  the  mere  creature  of  the  author's  brain,  but 
had  a  definite  original :  yet  the  effort  to  identify  every  character  may  well 
be  vain  where  so  many  of  the  lines  in  the  maze  of  Court  intrigue  must 
have  been  effaced  by  time. 

For  Bagoa,  who  is  far  more  important  than  Floscula,  not  indeed  to 

'  See  essay  on  *  Lyly  as  a  Playwright,'  vol.  ii.  pp.  297-8. 

*  Act  V.  sc.  1.  15a.  *  Oheron*s  Visum,  p.  40. 

*  Act  iv.  sc  3,  p.  63  '  Flosc,  O  Endimioo,  could  spight  itself  deuise  a  mis- 
chiefe  so  monstrous  ?  .  .  .  Where  others  number  their  yeeres,  their  houres,  their 
minutes,  and  steppe  to  age  by  staires,  thou  onely  hast  thy  yeeres  and  times  in 
a  cluster,  being  olde  before  thou  remembrest  thou  wast  younge.  Cynth,  No 
more  Floscula,  pittie  dooth  him  no  good :  I  would  any  thing  els  might/  &c. 

*  Lodge's  Illustrations,  ii.  100. 

*  1  am  indebted  for  this  incident  to  Mr.  Baker*s  introduction  {EndymicH, 
pp.  Ixix-lxx).  He  quotes  it  from  Parsons*  Memoirs  of  Robert  Dudley^  iv.  19,  20, 
but  without  applying  it  to  the  allegory. 

H  2 


loo  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  ENDIMION 

Endimion's  restoration,  but  to  the  discovery  of  Telltis'  intrigue,  no  original 
has  hitherto  been  suggested.  If  I  am  right  in  regarding  the  plot  of  Mary 
and  Lady  Shrewsbury  for  the  marriage  of  Lord  Charies  Stuart  in  1574  as 
the  original  of  the  alliance  between  Tellus  and  Dipsas,  a  natural 
representative  for  Bagoa  presents  herself  in  Lady  Lennox,  the  third  party 
to  that  plot,  who  is  found  writing  excuses  on  the  subject  to  the  Queen's 
ministers,  represented  in  the  play  by  Panelion  and  Zontes,  in  the  winter 
of  that  year  ^  This  attitude  of  submission  and  excuse,  really  dictated 
by  her  fears  of  Elizabeth,  who,  says  Froude,  sent  her  to  the  Tower,  is 
represented  in  the  play  by  Dipsas'  transformation  of  her  to  a  qurvering 
aspen-tree,  from  which  by  favour  of  Cynthia  she  is  restored  to  her  former 
shape.  Lady  Lennox,  the  mother  of  Damley  and  Lord  Charles  Stuart,  is 
certainly  an  old  woman,  while  Sir  Tophas'  reversion  to  her  from  the 
crone  Dipsas  implies  Bagoa's  comparative  youth;  but  otherwise  Lady 
Lennox  fairly  fulfils  the  requirements  of  the  part. 
SirTophas.  For  Sir  Tophas  Halpin  suggests  Stephen  Gosson,  who  sought  to  inspire 
his  *  schoole '  with  military  ardour  as  a  diversion  from  *  stage  plaies ' ; 
but  he  acknowledges  that  too  little  of  Gosson's  verse  survives  to  allow  us 
to  compare  it  with  Lyl/s  parody  '.  Beyond  the  general  ground  of  Gosson's 
attack  upon  the  stage  in  TAe  Schoole  of  Abuse  in  1579,  there  seems  no 
reason  why  Lyly  should  satirize  him ;  and  the  complimentary  reference  in 
Euphues  and  his  England^  to  Gosson's  defence  of  The  Schoole^  entitled 
The  Ephemerides  of  PhialOy  makes  against  such  an  idea.  Much  more 
probable  is  Professor  Ward's  suggestion  ^,  which  by  an  odd  mistake  he 
attributes  to  Halpin,  of  Gabriel  Harvey.  From  a  passage  in  Pappe  with 
a  Hatchet  ^  we  know  that  Lyly  had  long  cherished  a  grudge  against  this 
*'  old  acquaintance ' :  the  scoffing  allusion  to  Sir  Tophas'  verses  is 
appropriate  to  Harvey's  experiments  in  metre:  his  patronizing  self- 
sufficiency,  his  affectation  of  learning  ^  his  grammatical  jokes  ^,  his  flow 
of  quotations,  and  Epiton's  remark  '  Nothing  hath  made  my  master 
a  foole  but  flat  schollership ','  are  all  reflective  of  the  pedant ;  and  his 
behaviour  to  two  lively  girls,  brought  in  for  the  express  purpose  of  rallying 

^  See  the  dialogue  between  Panelion  and  Zontes  about  Bagoa,  Act  v.  ae.  3.  p.  71. 
Lady  Lennox's  part  in  the  transaction  is  related  by  Froude,  x.  ch.  60,  pp.  398  sqq., 
pop.  ed.  On  Dec.  3,  1574,  she  writes  to  Burleigh  lamenting;  the  Queen's  dis- 
pleasure in  the  matter,  and  enclosing  copy  of  a  former  letter  to  Leicester  on  the 
same  subject.  On  Dec.  10  she  again  writes  to  Burleigh  from  Hackney,  excusing 
herself  for  visiting  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury  and  consenting  to  the  marriage. 
On  Dec  33  Walsingham  writes  to  the  Earl  of  Huntingdon  with  questions  tooe 
put  to  Lady  Lennox's  secretary  about  the  marriage.  \Calendar  of  State  Papers, 
Domestic^  1547-80,  p.  489.) 

■  Oberon*!  Vision^  p.  75 ;  and  cf.  Act  iv.  sc.  a.  p.  55.  *  VoL  ii.  p.  99, 1. 1 7. 

*  English  Dramatic  Literature ^  i.  292  (ed.  1899). 

'  Pappe  (vol.  iii)  '  for  this  tenne  yeres  haue  I  lookt  to  lambacke  him' — ^written  in 
the  autumn  of  1589. 

*  Act  i.  sc.  3.  91,  loa  '  all  Mars  and  Azs ' :  'the  Latine  bath  saued  your  lines.* 
»  Act  iii.  sc  3.  5-19.  *  Act  v.  sc  2.  38. 


WE  MUST  WIDEN  ITS  SCOPE 


lOI 


him  \  looks  fike  a  peraonal  reminiscence.  Doubtless  it  is  vain  to  seek  in 
this  academic  personage  any  analogy  to  Sir  Tophas'  burlesque  passion 
lor  Dipsas  or  his  marriage  with  Bagoa,  but  Sir  Tophas  lies  so  much  away 
firom  the  plot  that  this  matters  little ;  nor  was  Gabrid  Harvey  so  entirely 
without  Court  influence  but  that  he  was  able  to  give  Spenser  an  introduction 
to  Sir  Philip  Sidney  ^ 

To  attempt  an  identification  of  the  remaining  characters  is  needless, 
and  would  probably  be  vain,  since  they  have  no  real  part  in  the  action 
nor  any  distinguishing  marks.  We  therefore  present  our  amended  cast 
for  comparison  with  Halpin's.     • 


(Halpin) 

(Bond) 

Endimion 

(the  Earl  of  Leicester) 

the  Earl  of  Leicester 

Eumenides 

(the  Earl  of  Sussex) 

Sir  PhUip  Sidney 

Corsites 

(Sir  Edward  Stafford) 

Sir  Amyas  Paulet 

the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury 

Geron 

(the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury) 

Panelion 
Zontes    . 

(unidentified) 

?  (Lord  Burleigh 

?  \  Sir  Francis  Walsingham 

Sir  Tophas 

(Stephen  Gosson) 

Gabriel  Harvey 

Cynthia 

(Queen  Elizabeth) 

Queen  Elizabeth 

Tellus 

(Lady  Sheffield  (nde 
Howard)) 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots 

Semele 

(Frances  Sidney) 

Lady  Rich  (n^   Pene- 
lope Devereux) 

Floscula 

(Lady  Essex) 

Lady  Essex,  or  Frances 
Howard 

Bagoa 

(unidentified) 

?  the  Countess  of  Lennox 

Dipsas 

(the  Countess  of  Shrews- 

the Countess  of  Shrews- 

bury) 

bury 

If  the  above  cast  be  accepted,  it  is  clear  that  the  general  scope  of  the 
play  must  be  widened  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  Halpin's  interpretation. 
His  theory  of  its  subject  as  Leicester's  imprisonment  consequent  on 
Simier's  revelation  concentrates  attention  on  what  was,  in  fact,  only 
a  brief  iixcident  in  a  much  longer  period  of  Court  dis&vour  caused  by  his 
opposition  to  the  Anjou  match,  and  elevates  into  political  importance  two 
ladies  who  were  really  of  but  slight  significance.  It  was  perfectly  admissible 
for  a  dramatist  to  do  this,  but  it  would  have  been  most  impolitic  in 
a  Court  dramatist  The  introduction  of  people  like  Lady  Sheffield  or 
Lady  Essex  as  direct  competitors  with  the  Queen  was  a  piece  of  audacity 
that  could  hardly  fail  to  be  displeasing  to  Elizabeth;   and,  when  we 

*  Act  ii.  sc.  a. 

'  It  is,  however,  faintly  possible  that  Ljly*s  late  master,  Oxford,  is  intended ;  in 
which  case  Epiton  will  be  Ljly  himself. 


to2  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN   ENDIMION 

remember  how  sharp  was  the  wound  to  her  feelings  caused  by  Leicester  s 
marriage,  it  is  all  but  incredible  that  either  Leicester  or  Lyiy  would  dream 
of  venturing  to  dramatize  the  subject  before  the  whole  Court,  even  if  we 
could  conceive  Leicester  willing,  as  Mr.  Baker  imagines,  to  represent  his 
wife  as  a  poor  dupe,  the  mere  cloak  to  cover  his  real  passion  for  Elizabeth. 
I  doubt  if  his  marriage  has  any  place  in  the  piece  whatever.  The  tissue 
of  vulgar  intrigue  disclosed  to  us  in  the  pages  of  Mr.  Halpin's  essay  is  not 
a  story  of  which  Elizabeth,  either  as  an  injured  woman  or  as  the  crowned 
representative  of  Chastity,  could  have  wished  to  be  reminded.  Much 
more  probable  is  it  that  Lyly,  recently  appointed  as  caterer  for  her 
amusement  and  casting  about  for  means  to  flatter  his  mistress,  turned  his 
attention  to  the  royal  prisoner,  so  long  Elizabeth's  rival,  the  fear  of  whose 
machinations  was  urgent  in  all  men's  hearts  in  1585.  This  rivalry,  these 
machinations,  together  with  the  equally  perennial  royal  affection  for 
Leicester,  are  the  most  salient  features  in  the  domestic  annals  of  the 
reign ;  and  a  sufficient  warrant  for  their  dramatic  connexion  was  supplied 
by  the  match  actually  contemplated  between  Mary  and  the  favourite  in 
J  563-1 565.  These  two,  then,  must  be  regarded  as  the  double  subject  of 
the  piece ;  and  they  are  supplemented  by  two  subordinate  ones  (i)  the 
quarrel  between  the  Shrewsburies,  (2)  the  relations  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney 
with  his  uncle  and  his  mistress.  This  explanation,  while  it  allows  us  to 
keep  four  or  five  of  Halpin's  identifications,  gives  us,  I  think,  a  fuller  and 
more  probable  explanation  of  their  functions  in  the  piece,  and  supplements 
them  by  other  figures  more  conspicuous  than  those  Halpin  selects.  Its 
weak  point  is,  doubtless,  the  want  of  any  definite  intrigue  against  Leicester 
by  Mary  or  Lady  Shrewsbury ;  but  the  same  weakness  is  inherent  in  the 
theory  of  Mr.  Halpin,  and  in  Mr.  Baker's  emendation  of  it.  Neither 
Lady  Sheffield  nor  Lady  Essex  can  properly  be  credited  with  any  intrigue 
against  him :  indeed,  in  spite  of  a  widespread  feeling  of  hatred  and 
jealousy  of  the  all-powerful  favourite,  it  is  difficult  to  point  to  any 
distinctly  hostile  action  except  that  of  Simier  in  the  August  of  1579. 
There  are,  as  shown  above,  strong  reasons  against  taking  that  incident  as 
the  chief  subject  of  the  play  ^  General  considerations,  no  less  than  the 
identification  of  particular  characters,  require  us  to  widen  its  scope.  With 
that  widening  of  scope  there  is  imposed  upon  the  dramatist  the  necessity 
of  some  invention  for  the  securing  of  unity.  He  obtains  it  by  making 
Mary  and  Lady  Shrewsbury  the  direct  causes  of  Leicester's  disgrace, 
and  thus  enlisting  for  the  favourite,  his  hero  and  perhaps  his  patron, 

^  It  is  likely  enoagh,  however,  that  representing  as  it  does  the  acutest  phase 
of  the  royal  disfavoar,  it  is  alluded  to  in  the  Three  Ladies  of  the  fiist  part  of 
Endimion's  dream,  which  differs  considerably  in  purport  from  the  action  of  the 
play  as  a  whole.  I  take  the  lady  with  the  knife  and  the  looking-glass  to  be 
Elizabeth  herself  (cf.  especially  the  flattering  language  used  in  describing  the 
victory  of  mercy  over  her  anger;  v.  i.  96-100),  the  prompter  of  cruelty  to  be 
Lady  Sheffield  or  Lady  Shrewsbury,  and  the  sympathetic  lady  to  be  Lady  Essex. 


KEATS   :  DRAYTON  103 

ft  sympathy  which  neither  on  grounds  of  fact  or  character  did  he  at  all 
deserve. 

I  will  close  this  essay  with  the  briefest  reference  to  a  fer  greater  poet 
than  Lyly.  Mr.  Colvin  in  his  monograph  on  Keats  {English  Men  of 
Letters)^  p.  93,  says  '  In  his  own  special  range  of  Elizabethan  reading,  he 
was  probably  acquainted  with  Lyl/s  Court  comedy  of  Endimion^  in 
prose,  which  had  been  edited,  as  it  happened,  by  his  friend  Dilke  a  few 
years  before  [i.e.  in  Old  Plays ^  voL  i.  1814] :  but  in  it  he  would  have 
found  nothing  to  his  purpose.'  Yet  on  p.  95  Mr.  Colvin  adds  *'  it  is  the 
passion  of  the  human  soul  for  beauty  which  he  attempts,  more  or  less 
consciously,  to  shadow  forth  in  the  quest  of  the  shepherd-prince  after  his 
love ' :  and  since  this  ideal  aspect  of  love,  and  the  contrast  of  such  with 
more  earthly  passion,  certainly  forms  one  aspect  of  Lyl/s  play  (see  above, 
p.  83),  I  think  we  are  justified  in  claiming  the  latter  as  among  the 
possible  formative  influences  in  Keats'  poem.  Michael  Drayton's  Man 
in  the  Moone"^,  to  which  Mr.  Colvin  also  refers  in  regard  to  Keats, 
cannot,  I  think,  be  said  to  owe  anything  to  Lyly,  except  perhaps  the 
title:  nor  do  I  trace  any  connexion  between  Drayton's  poem  and  The 
Woman  in  the  Moone, 

^  Poemes  Lyrick  and  pastorall,  Odes^  Eglogs^  The  Man  in  the  Moone,  By 
Michtull  Drayton^  Esquier,  At  London^  Printed Sy  R,  B,forN.  L,  and  /.  Flasket, 
n.  d.  [1604  or  1605].  The  Man  in  the  Moone  was  adapted  from  an  earlier  and, 
I  think,  better  poem — about  1000  rhymed  heroics — entitled  Endimion  and  Phcebe, 
Ideas  iMtmvs,  which  appeared  withont  date  in  1594.  It  describes  how  Phoebe 
Inlled  her  shepherd  to  sleep  for  <  thirty  yeeres '  that  she  might  descend  to  him  at 
will ;  and  promises  to  relate  elsewhere  *  what  in  vision  there  to  him  befell.'  The 
Man  in  the  Mootte  has  an  allusion  to  lunary  : 

'As  my  great  brother,  so  have  I  a  flower 
To  me  peculiar,  that  doth  ope  and  close 
When  as  I  rise,  and  when  I  me  repose.' 


MIDAS 


EDITIONS 

*  4^  octobris  1591  mystres  Broome  Wydowe  Late  Wyfe  of  William  Broome 
Entred  for  her  copies  vnder  the  hand  of  the  Bishop  of  Loodon  :  Three  Comedies 
plaied  before  her  maiestie  by  the  Children  of  Panles  th  one  Called  .  Endimion. 
Th  other .  Galathea  and  th  other,  Midas  .  • .  zviij^^/  S/a,  Reg,  ii.  p.  596  (ed. 
Arb.). 

Q.  Midas .  |  PlaUd  before  \  the  Qveenes  Maiestie  \  vpon  Twelfe  Day  at  \  night,  By 
the  Children  \  of  Paules  ,  \  London  \  Printed  by  Thomas  Scarlet  for  /.  B,  \  and 
are  to  be  sold  in  PauUs  Churchyard  at  \  the  signe  of  the  Bible .  |  1593 .  |  4to. 
A,  A  2y  A-G  4  in  fours.  No  colophon.  (JBr,  Mus. :  BocU, :  Z>yce  ColL  S,  Ken- 
sington,) 

Under  date  2$  Aug.  1601  Midas,  together  with  Camp.,  Sapho  and  Phao,  Galla- 
thea  and  Endim,,  is  transferred  to  George  Potter  {Sta,  Reg,  iii.  p.  191,  ed.  Arb., 
quoted  under  Camv ASVE-Editions), 

The  Sixe  Ccvrt  Comedies  are  entered  to  Edward  Blount  under  date  9  Jan.  1628 
{Sta,  Reg,  iv.  p.  193,  ed.  Arb.,  quoted  under  CAMPASPB-^d&Vil^ifx). 

Second  ed.  MYDAS .  |  Played  before  the  Queenes  \  Maiestie  vpon  Twelfe  \ 

(Blount's).  Day  at  Night.  \  By  the  Children  of\  Pauls,  \  London,  \ 

Printed  by  William  Stansby,  \for  Edward  Blount,  \  163a.  | 
i2mo,  occupying  sigs.  s  I2>Z3,  in  twelves,  of  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies. 
Also  in  Old  English  Plays,  vol.  1  (1814),  with  Introduction  and  Notes  by 
C.  W.  Dilke;  and  in  Fairholt's  edition  of  Lyly's  Dramatic  Works,  vol.  ii  (1858). 


MIDAS 

Argument.  —  Bacchus,  in  return  for  the  hospitality  of  MidaSi 
king  of  Phrygia,  offers  to  grant  him  anything  he  may  desire.  Eristus 
advises  him  to  ask  his  mistress;  Martius^  the  sovereignty  of  the 
world;  but  Midas  prefers  the  advice  of  a  third  councillor  Mella- 
crites,  and  asks  that  his  touch  may  turn  everything  to  gold.  A  brief 
exercise  of  this  power,  which  operates  on  his  food,  wine  and  raiment, 
reduces  him  to  beg  to  be  released  from  it.  By  the  god's  advice 
he  bathes  in  the  Factolus,  and  transfers  to  its  waters  the  fatal  gift« 
A  mood  of  sullen  discontent  follows  (iv.  i,  p.  141,  v.  3,  p.  159).  As 
he  is  hunting  in  a  wood  on  Mount  Tmolus  he  comes  upon  the  gods 
Pan  and  Apollo  about  to  engage  in  a  musical  competition,  of  which 
the  Nymphs  are  to  be  umpires.  Associated  with  them  in  this  func- 
tion Midas  decides  for  Pan,  and  his  crass  judgement  is  punished  by 
Apollo  with  asses'  ears.  For  a  time  he  contrives  to  conceal  them 
beneath  a  tiara;  but  the  Nymphs  have  spread  the  news  of  his 
disgrace,  and  the  words  'Midas  the  king  hath  asses'  ears,'  spoken 
by  shepherds,  are  reproduced  by  some  reeds  as  they  wave  in  the 
wind.  This  prodigy  is  reported  to  the  king  by  his  discreet  and 
affectionate  daughter  Sophronia,  by  whose  advice  he  seeks  Apollo's 
oracle  at  Delphi.  There  on  his  acknowledgement  of  folly  and 
profession  of  repentance  the  curse  is  removed,  and  he  returns  to 
Phrygia  vowing  to  relinquish  those  designs  of  conquest,  especially 
against  the  heroic  islanders  of  Lesbos,  his  iU-success  in  which  has 
supplied  the  undercurrent  of  his  thoughts  throughout  the  play. 

Comic  relief  is  sought  in  the  relations  between  some  Court-pages 
and  the  royal  barber  Motto,  who,  robbed  by  them  of  the  golden 
beard  he  has  cut  from  Midas'  chin,  recovers  it  by  curing  Petulus' 
toothache;  but  is  afterwards  entrapped  into  treasonable  utterance 
of  the  secret  of  the  asses'  ears,  and  compelled  to  surrender  the  beard 
as  the  price  of  their  silence. 

Text.  —  The  text  followed  is  that  of  the  first  and  only  known 
quarto,  of  1592,  which  is  unusually  pure,  presenting  only  eight 


io8  MIDAS 

positive  errors,  besides  one  or  two  of  punctuation,  though  it  lacks 
the  four  songs  and  a  few  indispensable  stage-directions. 

Blount  gives  us  the  missing  songs,  and  corrects  one  of  the  quarto's 
errors,  'querenda,'  p.  117;  but  introduces  six  others,  besides  omitting 
a  word  in  six  places. 

Dilke,  who  rightly  follows  the  quarto  rather  than  Blount  and, 
further,  supplies  some  half-dozen  needed  stage-directions,  modernizes 
the  text  in  about  a  dozen  places,  e.g.  p.  134  'travail'  for  'trauel/ 
154  'bauble'  for  'Bable,'  157  'own'  for  *owe,'  makes  eight  other 
alterations  which  may  be  classed  as  emendations,  and  about  a  score 
which  are  quite  the  reverse,  e.g.  p.  118  'statute,'  p.  120  'no  other,' 
p.  137  'forward,'  p.  140  *  Ah'  for  *I'  (pron.),  141  'ears,'  'swan'  for 
the  jesting  'goose,'  and  p.  157  'dente'  for  Motto's  mistake  'dento.' 

Fairholt  as  usual  follows  Blount,  correcting  three  of  his  corruptions, 
and  adding  two  corrections  of  the  original  text ;  but  making  twelve 
corruptions  of  his  own,  e.g.  pp.  126  'admit'  for  'omit,'  131  'use' 
for  'lose,  141  'they'  for  'there,'  147  'Min,'  for  'Lie' 

I  have  adopted  all  dear  emendations  made  by  others,  and  added 
three  (pp.  118,  136, 138),  with  one  or  two  further  stage-directions; 
reporting  all  variants  in  the  footnotes. 

Authorship.  —  Lyly's  name  is  not  on  the  title-page  of  the  quarto : 
but  the  performance  of  the  play  by  the  Paul's  boys,  its  inclusion 
by  Blount,  its  marked  style,  and  about  a  dozen  reminiscences  of 
Euphues  (though  these  are  fewer  and  fainter  than  formerly,  and  the 
play  contains  very  few  allusions  to  natural  history),  are  sufficient  to 
prove  his  authorship. 

Sources  and  Allegory.  —  Dilke's  introduction  to  the  play  says 
'  For  the  subject  and  incidents  of  this  Comedy  Lyly  was  indebted  to 
Ovid,  Galtruchius,  and  "  The  Golden  Ass  "  of  Apuleius ;  in  the  latter 
work  the  story  is  related  at  large.'  It  is  unfortunate  for  this  state- 
ment that  Pierre  Gautruche  or  Gaultruche,  the  author  of  LHistairt 
Potiique  (first  translated  into  English,  167 1,  8vo)  was  only  bom, 
at  Caen,  in  1602 :  and,  further,  that  the  De  Asino  of  Apuleius, 
whose  popular  title  seems  so  happily  to  combine  the  two  instances 
of  Midas'  folly,  contains  no  mention  of  Midas  whatever;  the  Ass 
being  of  course  Lucius,  the  hero  of  Apuleius'  tale  and  of  Lucian's 
KovKun  ti  "Ovtti^  and  the  epithet  'golden'  being  merely  the  tribute 
of  appreciative  posterity.    The  error,  which  has  survived  till  quite 


INTRODUCTION  109 

Si  recent  year,  is  ultimately  traceable  to  Langbaine  {English  DramaUck 
Poets^  Oxford,  1691,  8vo,  p.  329). 

There  remains  as  Lyly's  sole  source  Ovid's  Metamorphoses^  xi. 
85-193,  which  he  closely  follows.  The  only  differences  are  that 
in  Ovid  Bacchus  is  under  obligation  for  a  service  rendered  to  Silenus 
rather  than  to  himself;  that  in  Ovid  no  motive  for  Midas'  desire  of 
gold  is  suggested,  while  Lyly  (as  Hense  suggests)  supplies  one  in  the 
thirst  for  conquest ;  that  after  ridding  himself  of  the  fatal  gift  Midas 
betakes  himself  to  a  rural  life,  represented  in  Lyly  by  his  hunting 
expedition;  that  in  the  contest  between  Pan  and  Apollo^  though 
Nymphs  are  present,  it  is  Tmolus,  the  Genius  of  the  mountain,  who 
acts  as  umpire  and  whose  decision  is  gratuitously  contravened  by 
Midas ;  that  it  is  Midas'  barber,  alone  cognizant  of  the  ears,  who 
whispers  the  secret  into  a  hole  he  digs  in  the  ground,  afterwards 
filling  in  the  soil,  above  which  reeds  spring  up  to  repeat  his  words 
when  stirred  by  the  wind ;  and  finally  that  Ovid  mentions  no  expe- 
dition of  Midas  to  Delphi,  and  no  remission  of  the  punishment ;  nor 
is  any  such  recorded  by  Hyginus,  whose  191st  Fable  relates  both 
incidents,  with  the  omission  of  the  barber  and  the  reeds. — A  few 
words  in  iv.  2,  p.  145  seem  indebted  to  a  chapter  about  Midas  in 
The  Diall  of  Princes  (see  note  ad  loc). 

Lyly,  then,  has  added  the  comic  elements  of  the  Pages  and 
Pipenetta  and  the  Huntsman,  and  the  contest  between  the  former 
and  the  barber  for  the  possession  of  the  golden  beard.  He  has 
added,  too,  the  characters  of  Midas'  daughter  and  her  ladies,  and 
of  Midas'  three  councillors ;  and  has  credited  Midas  with  ambitious 
designs  on  the  territories  of  his  neighbours,  particularly  on  the  island 
of  Lesbos.  Dilke  (1814)  was  the  first  to  observe  that  in  this  respect 
the  play  is  intended  as  a  satire  on  Philip  II  of  Spain,  representing 
'the  produce  of  his  mines  in  S.  America  by  his  desire  to  turn 
everything  about  him  into  gold;  and  the  defeat  of  the  Armada 
by  the  fruitless  attempts  of  Midas  to  subdue  the  Island  of  Lesbos.' 
Halpin  in  Oberotis  Vision  (Shakespeare  Soc.  1843),  p.  104,  offers  the 
following  conjectural  key : 

Midas,  king  of  Phrygia  =  Philip  of  Spain. 
Isles  north  of  Phrygia  =  British  Isles.    Lesbos  =«  England. 
Getulia,  Lycaonia,  Sola,  &c. «  Portugal,  the  Netherlands,  and  other 
countries  cruelly  tyrannized  over  by  Philip. 

Bacchus  (the  presiding  deity  of  India)  <=  the  Genius  of  the  Indies. 
The  golden  gtft » the  influx  of  precious  metals  into  Spain. 


jio  MIDAS 

Pactolus  (with  golden  sands)  =  the  Tagus. 

The  contest  in  music  =  the  controversy  of  the  Reformation. 

Tmolus  =  (probably)  Trent. 

Pan  ('all' — Catholic)  =  Papal  Supremacy. 

Apollo  (the  antagonistic  principle)  =  Protestant  Sovereignty. 

Syrinx  =  the  Roman  Catholic  Faith. 

Daphne  « the  Protestant  Faith. 

Motto  (who  betrays  the  ears  of  Midas)  =  Anthonio  Perez,  Philip^s 
secretary,  banished  for  betraying  secrets. 

Sophronia  (daughter  and  successor  of  Midas) » Isabella,  Philip's 
daughter,  to  whom,  on  her  marrying  the  Archduke  Albert,  he  resigned 
the  sovereignty  of  the  Netherlands. 

Martius  ]         the  Dukes  of  Medina  Sidonia  and  D'Alva; 

Mellicrates  f  ^      and  Ruy  Gomez  de  Libra  [given  in  this 

Eristus  (probably)  j  order]. 

The  golden  beard  perhaps  alludes  to  the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece* 

# 

Probably  most  people  will  think  that  Halpin  carries  the  allegory 
somewhat  further  than  the  author  intended  :  especially  we  may  note 
that  Philip's  decision  for  Catholicism  as  against  Protestantism  can 
hardly  be  represented  as  a  secret  that  Midas  long  conceals  from  his 
daughter  and  his  councillors  (pp.  149-52,  158-9),  a  concealment 
for  which,  indeed,  there  is  no  adequate  dramatic  motive,  seeing  that 
his  punishment  is  soon  declared.  But  there  can  be  little  doubt 
about  the  identification  of  Martius,  whose  'counsell  hath  shed  as 
much  bloud  as  would  make  another  sea,' pp.  132,161  (v.  3.  1 11),  with 
the  pitiless  Alva;  and  the  play  abounds  in  allusions  to  Philip's 
covetousness,  treachery  and  tyranny,  and  to  current  events  such  as 
the  bloodshed  in  the  Netherlands,  p.  130,  the  defeat  of  the  Armada, 
p.  131,  the  expedition  of  Drake  and  Norreys,  iv.  4.  12,  and  other 
points  illustrated  in  the  Notes. 

Date.  —  Obviously  the  play  is  written  after  the  defeat  of  the 
Armada  in  1588,  and  before  its  entry  in  the  Stationers'  Raster 
on  Oct.  4,  1591.  The  allusion  to  Drake  and  Norreys'  expedition 
to  Portugal  (Act  iv.  sc  4,  p.  149  'suffers  the  enemies  to  bid  vs  good 
morrowe  at  our  owne  doors')  which  sailed  Ap.  18,  1589  and  re- 
turned in  the  middle  of  July,  enables  us  to  bring  the  upward  limit 
down  to  May  of  that  year ;  while  a  passage  in  Harvey's  Advertise- 
ment to  Fapp-HatcJuit^  which  forms  the  second  Book  of  Pierc^i^ 
Supertrogation  and  is  dated  'At  Trinitie  Hall :  the  fift  of  Nouember : 
1589,'  supplies  us  with  the  downward  limit:  'Faith,  quoth  himselfe. 


INTRODUCTION  xn 

thou  wilt  be  caught  by  the  stile :  Indeede  what  more  easie,  then  to 
finde  the  man  by  his  humour,  the  Midas  by  his  eares,  the  Calfe 
by  his  tongue,  the  goose  by  his  quill,  the  Playmaker  by  his  stile, 
the  hatchet  by  the  Pap  ^'  Two  other  allusions,  confirming  Harvey's, 
occur  in  Nash's  An  Almond  for  a  Farraty  written  probably  in 
January  or  February,  1589-90  2.  On  p.  4  of  Petheram's  Reprint 
of  that  pamphlet  we  find  'for  now  a  dayes,  a  man  can  not  haue 
a  bout  with  a  Balletter  or  write  Midas  habet  aures  asininas  in  great 
Romaine  letters,  but  hee  shall  bee  in  daunger  of  a  further  dis- 
pleasure': and  on  p.  41  'Pen.  [i. e.  Penry]  with  Pan,  hath  con- 
tended with  AppoUo,  and  you  lyke  Midasses,  haue  ouerprised  his 
musick.' 

From  these  allusions  it  would  appear  that  the  play  was  composed 
between  May  and  September,  1589.  The  title-page  announces  it 
as  •  played  before  the  Queenes  Maiestie  vpon  Twelfe  Day  at  Night 
By  the  Children  of  Pavls.'  In  Chalmers'  list  of  payments  made 
to  the  master  of  the  PauPs  Boys  {BoswelPs  Malone,  iii.  425)  is  one 
on  March  10,  1589-90  *for  three  plays  on  Sunday  after  Christmas- 
day,  New  Year's  Day  and  Twelfth  Day.'  The  last  of  these  was 
probably  Midas,  performed  at  Coiut,  therefore^  on  January  6,  1590. 

Stage-History,  Imitations.  —  Collier  (Bisi.  Dram.  Poet  i.  277) 
quotes  the  following  from  a  tract  printed  abroad  in  1592,  with  the 
title  A  Declaration  of  the  true  causes  of  the  greate  troubles  supposed 
to  be  intended  against  the  Realme  of  England,  &c. — *  And  therefore 
as  an  introduction  hereunto,  to  make  him  [the  King  of  Spain] 
odious  unto  the  people,  certain  players  were  suffered  to  scoffe  and 
jeast  at  him  uppon  their  common  stages ;  and  the  like  was  used  in  the 
contempt  of  his  Religion,  first  by  making  it  no  better  then  Tiykish, 
by  annexing  unto  the  Psalmes  of  Dauid  .  .  .  this  ensuinge  meeter/ 
&C.  Since  the  doggrel  given  is  obviously  not  Lyly*s,  Midas  can 
hardly  be  the  particular  play  referred  to :  but  there  seems  considerable 
probability  that,  as  Halpin  suggests  (pberoris  Vision,  p.  104,  note), 

'  Brydges*  Archaica,  ii.  139.  Before  reading  Mr.  Baker's  Biographical  Intro- 
duction to  his  edition  of  Endymion^  p.  cl,  I  had  not,  I  think,  recognized  the 
bearing  of  this  passage  on  the  date  of  Midas,  Gabriel  Harvey,  writing  at  his 
Cambridge  rooms,  most  have  seen  the  play  during  the  long  vacation  on  the 
St  Panl's  stage,  where  its  performance  would  serve  as  rehearsal  for  its  production 
at  Court. 

'  Martin  was,  we  are  told, '  not  many  months  since  most  wittily  scofte  at  by  the 
extemporall  endeuour  of  the  pleasant  author  of  Pap  with  a  hatchet '  (Petheram's 
Reprint,  p.  12), 


na  MIDAS 

it  may  have  been  one  of  them ;  and  Nash's  remark  in  the  Almond , 
quoted  above,  even  seems  to  imply  that  Lyl/s  play  had,  early  in 
1590  or  before,  attracted  official  attention  and  remonstrance. 

Midas'  asses'  ears  as  the  punishment  of  arrogance  and  folly  are, 
no  doubt,  the  original  of  Bottom's  ass-head  in  A  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream, 

The  relation  between  Motto  and  the  Court-pages  is  probably  the 
original  of  that  between  Vertigo,  the  tailor,  and  the  courtiers  in 
Fletcher  and  Rowle3r's  Maid  in  the  Mill. 

A  burlesque  entitled  MidaSy  by  Kane  O'Hara,  was  produced  at 
Covent  Garden  in  1764,  and  reprinted  several  times  in  the  succeed- 
ing years.  In  it  Midas,  introduced  as  an  English  squire  and  J.  P., 
allies  himself  with  an  old  tippler,  Fan,  to  outwit  Apollo,  who,  dis- 
guised as  a  shepherd,  has  won  the  hearts  of  a  farmer's  two  daughters. 
Daphne  and  Nysa.  Bribed  by  Mysis,  the  girls'  mother,  he  decides 
at  a  musical  contest  for  Pan's  bagpipes  against  Apollo's  guitar. 
Apollo  reveals  himself,  punishes  Midas  with  asses'  ears,  and  reascends 
to  heaven.  The  burlesque  must  have  been  popular,  though  I  can 
find  but  little  of  the  wit  and  humour  which  Dilke  in  his  prefatory 
note  to  oiu:  play  took  occasion  to  eulogize. 

Place  and  Time.  —  The  expedition  to  Delphi  in  v.  3  violates 
the  Unity  of  Place,  which  otherwise  we  might,  by  locating  the 
palace  at  Sardis  (mentioned  Ovid,  Met.  xi.  137)  instead  of  in 
Phrygia  proper,  claim  to  be  observed  in  this  as  in  all  other  of  Lyly's 
comedies  except  Endimion.  No  instance  occurs  of  a  transfer  of 
place  in  the  middle  of  a  scene;  though,  to  avoid  such,  we  have 
to  suppose  the  locality  of  the  reeds,  where  the  shepherds  are 
wandering  in  ii.  2,  to  be  within  easy  distance  of  the  palace  in  iv.  4 
and  V.  I. 

Unity  of  Time  is  violated  by  Sophronia's  remark  at  the  beginning 
of  Act  V,  that  the  wonder  of  the  ears  is  'nine  dayes  past,'  and  by 
the  expedition  to  Delphi :  but  the  general  aim  at  continuity  of  scene 
within  the  limits  of  the  single  Act  is  quite  clear  (see  ii.  2  end, 
Petulus'  excuse  for  not  going  to  Bacchus'  temple  with  the  lords 
at  end  of  ii.  i ;  and  iv.  2  end  *  I  heare  some  comming '),  though 
it  is  violated  by  the  compression  necessary  for  the  hunting  described 
in  Act  iii  p.  139,  by  the  opening  words  of  iv.  4  about  Midas  being 
'melancholy  since  his  hunting,'  and  by  the  changes  of  scene  in 
Act  V.    Acts  ii  and  iii  are  closely  continuous. 


LOMO  OK 

aodaretD.bcrciUui  Paula  Cliurcbyanlu 

the  ligae  of  the  Bible 

lis*- 


Councillors  of  Midas, 


^Shepherds.  15 


(DRAMATIS  PERSONiE. 

Bacchus. 

Apollo. 

Pan. 

Midas,  King  of  Fhrygia. 

Eristus, 

Martius, 

Mxllacrites, 

Licio,  Page  to  Calia. 

Petulus,  Page  to  Mellacrites, 

MiNUTius,  another  Page.  10 

Motto,  a  Barber, 

Dello,  his  Boy, 

Menalcas/ 

CORYN, 

Celthus, 

Dryapon, 

Amyntas,  , 

Huntsman. 

Erato,  a  Nymph, 

Other  Nymphs.  ao 

SoPHRONiA,  Daughter  of  Midas. 

C^lia,  Daughter  of  Mellacrites. 

Camilla,  ' 

Amerula,  other  Ladies  of  the  Court. 

Suavia,     j  25 

Pipenetta,  Maid  to  Calia. 

Scene — Phrygia  and  Delphi.) 

Dramatis  Person  a]  list  first  supplied  Dil.^  F.  adding  Erato.     /  have 
made  their  descriptions  more  precise  6  Coancillors  &c.j  Gentlemen  of  the 

Court  Dil.  F.  8  Licio,  Page  to  Cselia]  DiL  F.  simply  bracket  Lido,  Petalns 

and  Minutiiu  as  'Servants*  a 2  CiCLiA,  Daughter  of  Mellacrites]  Dil.  F. 

simply  bracket  her  with  the  three  Jollowing  as  *  Ladies  of  the  Court  a6 

Pipenetta,  Maid  to  Cselia]  Dil.  F.  describe  her  as'ti  Serrant '  Scene-* 

Phiygia  and  Delphos  supfil.  F. 


THE  PROLOGVE 
IN  PAVLES. 

GEntkmen^  so  nice  is  the  worlds  that  for  apparrel  there  is  no   , 
fashion^  for  Musick  no  instrument,  for  diet  no  delicate,  for 
playes  no  inuention^  but  breedeth  sacietie  before  noone,  and  contempt 
before  night 

5  Come  to  the  Tayler^  hee  is  gone  to  the  Paynters,  to  ieame  howe  more 
cunning  may  lurke  in  the  fashion^  then  can  bee  expressed  in  the 
making,  Aske  the  Musicions,  they  will  say  their  heads  ake  with 
deuising  notes  beyonde  Ela,  Enquire  at  Ordinaries,  there  must  be 
sallets  for  the  Italian ;  picktooths  for  the  Spaniard;  pots  for  the 

10  German  ;  porridge  for  the  Englishman,     At  our  exercises,  Souldiers 
call  for  Tragedies^  their  obiect  is  bloud :  Courtiers  for  Commedies, 
their  subiect  is  loue ;  Countriemen  for  Pastoralles^  Shepheards  are 
their  Saintes,     Trafficke  and  trauell  hath  wouen  the  nature  of  all  v. 
Nations  into  ours,  and  made  this  land  like  Arras,  full  of  deuise,  which 

>5  was  Broade-cloth,  full  of  workemanshippe. 

Time  hath  confounded  our  mindes^  our  mindes  the  matter ;  but  all 
commeth  to  this  passe,  that  what  heretofore  hath  beene  serued  in 
seuerall  dishes  for  a  feaste,  is  now  minced  in  a  charger  for  a  Galli- 
maufrey.    If  wee  present  a  mingle-mangle,  our  fault  is  to  be  excused, 

20  because  the  whole  worlde  is  become  an  Hodge-podge, 

Wee  are  ielous  of  your  iudgementes,  because  you  are  wise ;  of  our  , 
owne  performance,  because  we  are  vnpetfect ;  of  our  Authors  deuice^ 
because  he  is  idle,     Onelie  this  doeth  encourage  vs,  that  presenting  our 
studies  before  Gentlemen,  thogh  they  receiue  an  inward  mislike,  wee 

'5  shall  not  be  hist  with  an  open  disgrace, 

Stirps  nidis  vrtica  est:  stirps  generosa,  rosa. 

3  satietie  Bl,   mods.  9  Sallads  Bl.  mods,  10  porridge]  Pottage 

Bl.  F.,  cf  Euph.p,  189,  /.  33 


I  2 


/^ 


MIDAS 

ACTUS  PRIMUS. 

SCiENA  Prima. — {Gardens  before  Midas'  Palace,) 

{Enter)  Bacchus,  Mydas,  Eristus,  Martius.  {and 

Mellacrites). 

Bacchus.  TV  /f  Idas,  where  the  Gods  bestowe  benefits  they  aske 
IVX  thankes,  but  where  they  receiue  good  turns,  they 
giue  rewards.  Thou  hast  filled  my  belly  with  meate,  mine  eares 
with  musicke,  mine  eies  with  wonders.  Bacchus  of  all  the  Gods  is 
the  best  fellow,  and  Midas  amongst  men  a  king  of  fellows.  All  thy  5 
grounds  are  vineyards,  thy  come  grapes,  thy  chambers  sellers,  thy 
houshold  stuffe  standing  cuppes:  and  therfore  aske  any  thing  it 
shalbe  graunted.  Wouldest  thou  haue  the  pipes  of  thy  conducts 
to  run  wine,  the  vdders  of  thy  beasts  to  drop  nectar,  or  thy  trees  to 
bud  ambrosia?  Desirest  thou  to  be  fortunate  in  thy  loue,  or  in  thy  lo 
victories  famous,  or  to  haue  the  yeres  of  thy  life  as  many  as  the 
haires  on  thy  head?  Nothing  shalbe  denied,  so  great  is  Bacchus^  so 
happie  is  Midas. 

Mid.   Bacchus,  for  a  king  to  begge  of  a  God  it  is  no  shame,  but 
to  aske  with  aduise,  wisdom ;  geue  me  leaue  to  consult :  least  desir-  1 5 
ing  things  aboue  my  reach,  I  bee  fiered  with  Phaeton:  or  against 
2_     ^^  "       nature,  I  be  drowned  with  Icarus:  &  so  perishing,  the  world  shal 
both  laugh  and  wonder,  crying,  Magnis  tamen  excidit  ausis. 

Bacchus.   Consult,  Bacchus  will  consent. 

Mid.  Now  my  Lords,  let  me  heare  your  opinions,  what  wish  may  ao 
make  Mydas  most  happie  and  his  Subiects  best  content  ? 

Erist.  Were  I  a  king  I  would  wish  to  possesse  my  mistresse,  for 
what  sweetnes  can  there  be  found  in  life,  but  loue  ?  whose  wounds 
the  more  mortall  they  are  to  the  heart,  the  more  immortal  they  make 

Actus  Primus  .  .  .  Midas*  Palace:  tke  quartos  division  into  Acts  and 
Scefus  is  retained.  The  localities  of  the  scenes  are  first  marked  in  this  edition 
s.  D.  [and  Mellacrites]  inserted  Dil.  8  conducts]  Conduits  BU  mods. 

17  l\Scalleds. 


>,  ^ 


ACT  I,  sc.  i]  MIDAS  1 1 7 

35  the  possessors :  and  who  knoweth  not  that  the  possessing  of  that 
must  bee  most  pretious,  the  pursuing  whereof  is  so  pleasing. 

Mar.  Loue  is  a  pastime  for  children,  breeding  nothing  but  follie,  ^ 
and  nourishing  nothing  but  idlenes.  I  would  wish  to  be  monarch  L\  S 
of  the  world,  conquering  kingdomes  like  villages,  and  being  greatest 
^  on  the  earth  be  commaunder  of  the  whole  earth :  for  what  is  there 
that  more  tickles  the  mind  of  a  king,  then  a  hope  to  bee  the  only 
king,  wringing  out  of  euery  countrie  tribute,  and  in  his  owne  to  sit 
in  triumph  ?  Those  that  call  conquerors  ambitious,  are  like  those 
that  tearme  thrift  couetousnes,  clenlines  pride,  honestie  precisenes. 
35  Commaund  the  world,  Midas,  a  greater  thing  you  cannot  desire, 
a  lesse  you  should  not. 

Mid.   What  say  you  Meliacrites  ? 

Me/.   Nothing,  but  that  these  two  haue  said  nothing.     I  would 
wish  that  euerie  thing  I  touched  might  tume  to  gold :  this  is  the 
40  sinewes  of  warre,  and  the  sweetnesse  of  peace.    Is  it  not  gold  that 
maketh  the  chastest  to  yeeld  to  lust,  the  honestest  to  lewdnes,  the  ^    ^^ 
wisest  to  foUie,  the  faithfuUest  to  deceit,  and  the  most  holy  in  heart, 
to  be  most  hollow  of  hart  ?    In  this  word  Gold  are  all  the  powers  of 
the  gods,  the  desires  of  men,  the  woonders  of  the  worlde,  the 
45  miracles  of  nature,  the  losenes  of  fortune  and  triumphs  of  time. 
By  gold  may  you  shake  the  courts  of  other  Princes,  and  haue  your 
own  setled ;  one  spade  of  gold  vndermines  faster  then  an  hundred 
mattocks  of  Steele.    Would  one  be  thought  religious  &  deuout? 
Quart fum  quisque  sua  nummarum  seruai  in  area,  iantutn  habet  &»fidd: 
50  Religions  ballance  are  golden  bags.     Desire  you  vertue  ?  guarenda 
pecunia  primum  est,  virtus  post  nummos:  the  first  staire  of  vertue  is 
money.     Doeth  anie  thirst  after  gentrie,  and  wish  to  be  esteemed 
beautiful?  &* genus  &*formam  regina pecunia  donat:  king  Coin  hath 
a  mint  to  stamp  gentlemen,  and  art  to  make  amiablenes.    I  denie         < 
55  not  but  loue  is  sweet,  and  the  marrowe  of  a  mans  minde,  that  to 
conquere  kings  is  the  quintessence  of  the  thoughts  of  kings :  why 
then  follow  both,  Aurea  sunt  veri  nunc  scecuia,  plurimus  auro  venit 
honos,  auro  conciliatur  antor:  it  is  a  world  for  gold ;  honor  and  loue 
are  both  taken  vp  on  interest.     Doth  Midas  determine  to  tempt  the 
60  mindes  of  true   Subiectes?    to   drawe   them   from  obedience  to 
trecherie,  from  their  allegiance  and  othes  to  treason  and  periurie  ? 
quid  non  mortalia  pectora  cogit  auri  sacra  fames  ?  what  holes  doth 

50  ballance  are  so  all,  and  again  p,  118,  /.  oa ;  4/!  End  t.  3.  191  que- 

renda  Bl.  F. :  qnerenda  Q  Dil.  57  Tero  Dil  misled  by  turmd  tin  Q 


xi8  MIDAS  [act  I 

not  gold  bore  in  mens  hearts  ?    Such  vertue  is  there  in  golde,  that 
being  bred  in  the  barrennest  ground,  and  troden  vnder  foote,  it 
mounteth  to  sit  on  Princes  heads.     Wish  gold  Midas^  or  wish  not  65  ' 
^     to  be  Midas,    In  the  councel  of  the  gods,  was  not  Anubi^  with  his 
"\     '     '    long  nose  of  gold,  preferred  before  Neptunes^  whose  statua  was  but 
*-      /  ^      brasse?    And  jEsculapius  more  honored  for  his  golden  beard,  then 
/  /     Apollo  for  his  sweet  harmonie  ? 
y         Erist,   To  haue  gold  and  not  loue,  (which  cannot  be  purchast  by  7° 
1 1      >    gold)  is  to  be  a  slaue  to  gold. 

Mar,  To  possesse  mountains  of  gold,  and  a  mistresse  more 
precious  then  gold,  and  not  to  commaunde  the  world,  is  to  make 
Mydas  new  prentise  to  a  mint,  and  lomeiman  to  a  woman. 

MeL   To  enioy  a  fairc  Ladie  in  loue,  and  wante  faire  gold  to  geue :  75 
to  haue  thousands  of  people  to  fight,  and  no  peny  to  paye — wil  make 
/        ones  mistresse  wilde,  and  his  soldiers  tame.    Jupiter  was  a  god,  but 
he  knew  gold  was  a  greater :  and  flewe  into  those  grates  with  his  golden 
winges,  where  he  coulde  not  enter  with  his  Swannes  wings.     What 
staide  Atalantas  course  with  Hippomanes  f  an  apple  of  gold :  what  80 
made  the  three  goddesses  striue?  an  apple  of  gold.     If  therfore  thou 
make  not  thy  mistres  a  goldfinch,  thou  mayst  chance  to  find  her 
a  wagtaile :  beleeue  me,  J^es  est  ingeniosa  dare.    Besides,  how  many 
gates  of  cities  this  golden  key  hath  opened,  we  may  remember  of  late, 
and  ought  to  feare  hereafter.    That  iron  world  is  wome  out,  the  S5 
golden  is  now  come«     Sub  loue  nunc  mundus^  iussa  seguare  louis. 
Erist,    Gold  is  but  the  guts  of  the  earth. 

Mel,   I  had  rather  haue  the  earthes  guttes,  then  the  Moones 
braines.    What  is  it  that  gold  cannot  cdmand,  or  hath  not  conquered  ? 
V     lustice  her  selfe,  that  sitteth  wimpled  about  the  eyes,  doth  it  not  90 
because  shee  will  take  no  gold,  but  that  she  would  not  be  seene 
,    V  blushing  when  she  takes  it:  the  ballance  she  holdeth  are  not  to 

weie  the  right  of  the  cause,  but  the  weight  of  the  bribe :  she  wil  put 
vp  her  naked  sword  if  thou  offer  her  a  golden  scabberd. 

Mid,   Cease  you  to  dispute,  I  am  determined.    It  is  gold,  Bacchus^  95 
that  Mydas  desireth,  let  euery  thing  that  Mydas  toucheth  be  turned 
to  gold,  so  shalt  thou  blesse  thy  guest,  and  manifest  thy  godhead. 
Let  it  be  golde  Bacchus, 

Bacchus,  Midas  thy  wish  cleaueth  to  thy  last  word.  Take  vp  this 
stone.  «oo 

66  counseUi?/./'.:  council  Z)i/.  An\ih\&  all eds,  67  Neptune /)i7.  A  ftatna] 
:»tatare  Q  Bl,  F, :  sUtute  Dil,         70  by]  with  DiL         80  AtlanUs  Q  BL  DiL 


sci]  MIDAS  119 

Mid.   Fortunate  MydasI    It  is  gold  MeliacritesI    gold!    it  is 
gold  I 

Mel.   This  stick. 

Mid.  Gold  Mellacritesl  my  sweet  boy   al  is   gold!    for  euer 
105  honoured  be  Bacchus,   that    aboue  measure  hath    made  Mydas 
fortunate. 

Bacchus.    If  Mydas  be  pleased  Bacchus  is,  I  will  to  my  temple 

with  Silenus,  for  by  this  time  there  are  many  to  offer  vnto  me 

sacrifices :  Panam  pro  muntre  poscis.  {Exit  Bacchus.) 

MO     Mid.   Come  my  Lords,  I  wil  with  golde  paue  my  court,  and  deck 

with  gold  my  turrets,  these  petty  ilands  neer  to  Phrygia  shal  totter, 

and  other  kingdoms  be  turned  topsie  turuie :  I  wil  commaund  both 

the  affections  of  men,  and  the  fortunes.    Chastitie  wil  growe  cheape 

where  gold  is  not  thought  deere;    Celia^  chast  Celia  shall  yeeld. 

115  You  my  Lords  shall  haue  my  handes  in  your  houses,  turning  your 

brasen  gates  to  fine  gold.    Thus  shal  Mydas  be  monarch  of  the 

world,  the  darer  of  fortune,  the  commander  of  loue.    Come  let  vs  in. 

Mel.  We  follow,  desiring  that  our  thoughtes  may  be  touched  with 

thy  finger,  that  they  also  may  become  gold. 

lao     Erist.  Wei  I   feare  the  euent,  because  of  Bacchus  last  words, 

panam  pro  munere  poscis. 

Mid.   Tush,  he  is  a  dronken  god,  els  he  woulde  not  haue  geuen 
so  great  a  gift     Now  it  is  done,  I  care  not  for  any  thing  he  can  doe. 

Exeunt 

ScE.  2.— {The  same.) 
{Enter)  Licio.  PetULUS. 

Licto.  nr^Hou  seruest  Mellacrites^  and  I  his  daughter,  which  is  the 
JL       better  man  ? 
Pet.  The  Masculin  gender  is  more  worthy  then  the  feminine, 
therfore  Licio^  backare. 
5      Licio.   That  is  when  those  two  genders  are  at  iarre,  but  when  they 
belong  both  to  one  thing,  then — 
Pet.   What  then? 

Licio.   Then  they  agree  like  the  fiddle  and  the  stick. 
Pet.   Pulchri  sani.     Gods  blessing  on  thy  blewe  nose !  but  Licio^ 
xo  my  mistres  is  a  proper  woman. 

113  the*]  their  Bl,  F.  114  not  om.  Bl.  F.  119  fingers  F.  i 

Licio]  Lit  Q 


122  MIDAS  [act  I 

Enter  Pipenetta. 

Liao,   But  soft,  here  comes  Pipenetta :  what  newes  ? 

Pip,    I  would  not  be  in  your  coats  for  any  thing. 

Licio,    Indeed  if  thou  shouldest  rigge  vp  and  downe  in  our  iackets,  90 
thou  wouldst  be  thought  a  very  tomboy. 

Pip.   I  meane  I  would  not  be  in  your  cases. 

Pet.  Neither  shalt  thou  Pipenetta^  for  first,  they  are  too  little  for 
thy  bodie,  and  then  too  faire  to  pull  ouer  so  fowle  a  skinne. 

Pip.   These  boyes  be  droonk !    I  would  not  be  in  your  takings.      95 

Licio.  I  thinke  so,  for  we  take  nothing  in  our  hands  but 
weapons,  it  is  for  thee  to  vse  needles  and  pinnes,  a  sampler,  not 
a  buckler. 

Pip.  Nay  then  wee  shall  neuer  haue  done !  I  meane  I  would  not 
be  so  courst  as  you  shalbe.  100 

Pet.   Worse  and  worse !    Wee  are  no  chase  (prettie  mops,)  for 

V    Deere  we  are  not,  neither  red  nor  fallowe,  because  we  are  Batchelers 

2.  ^  and  haue  not  comu  copia^  we  want  heads :  Hares  we  cannot  be, 

Z    L       because  they  are  male  one  yere,  and  the  next  female,  wee  change  not 

our  sex :  Badgers  we  are  not,  for  our  legs  are  one  as  long  as  another :  105 
and  who  wil  take  vs  to  be  Foxes,  that  stand  so  nere  a  goose,  and 
bite  not? 
^     Pip.   Fooles  you  are,  and  therefore  good  game  for  wise  men  to 
hunt :  but  for  knaues  I  leaue  you,  for  honest  wenches  to  talke  of. 

JJcio.   Nay  stay  sweet  Pipenetta^  we  are  but   disposed  to  be  no 
merrie. 

Pip.  I  maruel  how  old  you  wil  be  before  you  be  disposed  to  be 
honest.  But  this  is  the  matter,  my  master  is  gone  abroad,  and  wants 
his  page  to  wayt  on  him :  my  mistresse  would  rise,  and  lacks  your 
worshippe  to  fetch  her  haire.  1 1 5 

Pet.   Why,  is  it  not  on  her  head  ? 

Pip.  Me  thinks  it  should,  but  I  meane  the  haire  that  she  must 
weare  to  day. 

Licio.   Why,  doth  she  weare  any  but  her  owne  ? 

Pip.   In  faith  sir  no,  I  am  sure  it  is  her  owne  when  shee  paies  for  lao 
it.     But  do  you  heare  the  strange  newes  at  the  Court  ? 

Pet.  No,  except  this  be  it,  to  haue  ones  haire  lie  all  night  out  of 
the  house  from  ones  head. 

100  cant  Bl.  F. :  coaried  Dil.  loa  Deere  we]  Deere,  we  Bl. :  Deere ; 

we  F.  J03  cannot  be]  are  not  Dil.  109  for  ^  om.  Bl.  F,  117  that 

om.  Dil.  I  ao  it  U]  iU  Bl.  F. 


^ 


N- ) 


sc.  n]  MIDAS  123 

^    JHp.  Tush  1  euerie  thing  that  Mydas  toucheth  is  gold. 
"5      Fet.  The  deuil  it  is ! 

Fip,  Indeed  gold  is  the  deiiiL 
'^     lido.  Thou  art  deceiued  wench,  angels  are  gold.     But  is  it  true  ? 
Fip.  True  ?    Why  the  meat  that  he  tutcheth  tumeth  to  gold,  so 
doth  the  drinke,  so  doth  his  raiment 
130     Fet   I  would  he  would  geue  me  a  good  boxe  on  the  eare,  that 
I  might  haue  a  golden  cheeke. 

Lido,   How  happie  shal  we  be  if  hee  woulde  but  stroke  our  heads, 
that  we  might  haue  golden  haires.    But  let  vs  all  in,  least  he  lose  the 
vertue  of  the  gift  before  wee  taste  the  benefit 
135     Fip.   If  he  take  a  cudgel  and  that  turn  to  gold,  yet  beating  you 
with  it,  you  shal  only  feele  the  weight  of  gold. 

Fet   What  difference  to  be  beaten  with  gold,  and  to  be  beaten 
gold? 
Fip.  As  much  as  to  say,  drinke  before  you  goe,  and  goe  before 
140  you  drinke. 

Lido.   Come  let  vs  goe,  least  we  drinke  of  a  drie  cuppe  for  our 
long  tarrying.  Exeunt. 

ACTUS.  2. 

SCiE.  1. — {The  same.) 

ErISTUS,  CiELIA,  SOPHRONIA,  MelLACRITES.  MaRTIUS. 

{Enter  Eristus  and  CiELiA.) 

Erist.    I  ^Aire  Calia,  thou  seest  of  gold  there  is  sacietie,  of  loue    - 
X        there  cannot 
Cat.    If  thou  shouldst  wish  that  whatsoeuer  thou  thoughtest  might 
be  loue,  as  Mydas  what  euer  he  toucht  might  be  gold,  it  may  be  loue 
5  would  bee  as  lothsome  to  thine  eares,  as  gold  is  to  his  eyes,  and 
make  thy  heart  pinch  with  melancholic,  as  his  guts  doe  with  famine. 
Erist.   No,  sweet  Calia,  in  loue  there  is  varietie. 
Cal,   Indeed  men  varie  in  their  loue. 

Erist.   They  varie  their  loue,  yet  change  it  not.  r 

10       CV^/.    Loue  and  change  are  at  variance,  therefore  if  they  varie, 
they  must  change. 

Erist.   Men  change  the  manner  of  their  loue,  not  the  humor :  the 

I  satiety  Bl,  mods. 


1 

A 


124  MIDAS  [ACt  II 

1^  c  meanes  how  to  obteine,  not  the  mistiesse  they  honor.  So  did 
lupUer^  that  could  not  intreat  Dana$ks^  golden  words,  possesse  his 
loue  by  a  golden  shoure,  not  alteriag-ldiitffection,  but  vsing  art         15 

CaL  The  same  Jupiter  w^  an'Ag^^  a  Swan,  a  Bull;  and  for 
euerie  Saint  a  new  shape,  as  men  haue  for  euery  mistres  a  new 
shadow.  If  you  take  example  pf  the  gods,  who  more  wanton,  more 
wauering?  if  of  your  selues,  being  .but  men,  who  wil  think  you  more 
constant  then  gods  ?  EristuSy  if  gold  could  haue  allured  mine  eies,  ao 
thou  knowest  Mydas  that  commauq(^EBtb  all  thinges  to  bee  gold,  had 
conquered:  if  threats  might  haue  feared  my  heart,  Mydas  being 
a  king,  might  haue  commaunded  my  affections :  if  loue,  golde,  or 
authoritie  might  haue  inchaunted  me,  Mydas  had  obteyned  by  loue« 
golde,  and  authoritie.  Quorum  si  singula  nostram  fiectere  non  poterant^  35 
potuissent  omnia  menUm, 

ErisU  Ah,  Caliay  if  kinges  saye  they  loue  and  yet  dissemble, 
who  dare  say  that  they  dissemble,  and  not  loue?  Tliey  commaunde 
the  affections  of  others  yeeld,  and  their  owne  to  be  beleeued.  My 
teares  which  haue  made  furrowes  in  my  cheekes,  and  in  mine  eyes  30 
fountaines :  my  sighes,  which  haue  made  of  my  heart  a  furnace,  and 
kindled  in  my  head  flames :  my  body  that  melteth  by  peecemeale, 
and  my  mind  that  pineth  at  an  instant,  may  witnesse  that  my  loue  is 
both  vnspotted,  &  vnspeakeable.  Quorum  si  singula  duram  flectere 
non  poteranty  deberent  omnia  meniem.  But  soft,  here  commeth  the  35 
Princesse,  with  the  rest  of  the  Lords. 

Enter  Sophronia.  (Mellacrites,  Martius,  and  other  courtiers^ 
Soph.  MellacriteSy  I  cannot  tell  whether  I  should  more  mislike  thy 
Gouncell,  or  Mydas  consent,  but  the  couetous  humor  of  you  both 
I  contemne  and  wonder  at,  being  vnfit  for  a  king,  whose  honor  should 
consiste  in  liberalitie,  not  greedines ;  and  vnworthy  the  calling  of  40 
Mellacritesy  whose  fame  should  rise  by  the  Souldiers  god,  Mars^  not 
-s  by  the  merchants  god,  Gold. 

Mel.  Madam,  things  past  cannot  be  recalled,  but  repented ;  and 
therfore  are  rather  to  be  pittied  than  punished.  It  now  behoueth  vs 
how  to  redresse  the  miserable  estate  of  our  king,  not  to  dispute  of  45 
the  occasion.  Your  highnes  sees,  and  without  griefe  you  cannot  see^ 
that  his  meat  tumeth  to  massie  gold  in  his  mouth,  and  his  wine 
slideth  downe  his  throte  like  liquide  golde :   if  he  touch  his  roabes 

95  noctnim  BL  F.  39  to  hifori  yeeld  BL  nwis*  8.D.  Enter 

Sophronia:  thus  far  Q  BL  F.;  DUke  adJin^  Mell.  and  Mart.  45  to 

consider  iefifn  how  Dil, 


sc'i]  MIDAS  125 

they  are  turned  to  gold,  and  what  is  not  that  toucheth  him,  but  be- 

50  commeth  golde? 

Erist  I  MeUaaites^  if  thy  tongue  had  been  turned  to  gold  before 
thou  gauest  our  king  such  oouncel,  Mydas  heart  had  been  ful  of  ease, 
and  thy  mouth  of  gold. 

Mar.   If  my  aduise  had  taken  place,  Mydas  that  now  sitteth  ouer 

55  head  and  eares  in  crownes,  had  worn  vpon  his  head  many  kings 
crownes,  and  been  conqueroar  of  the  world,  that  now  is  commaunder 
of  drosse.  That  greedines  of  Mellacrites^  whose  heart-stringes  are 
made  of  PbUus  purse-stringes,  hath  made  Mydas  a  lumpe  of  earth, 
that  should  be  a  god  on  earth ;  and  thy  effeminate  minde  Eristus^ 

60  whose  eyes  are  stitcht  on  Calias  face,  and  thoughts  gyude  to  her  ^' 

beautie,  hath  bredde  in  all  the  court,  such  a  tender  wantonnes,  that 
nothing  is  thoght  of  but  loue,  a  passion  proceeding  of  beastly  lust,   *" 
and  coloured  with  a  courtlie  name  of  k)ue.    Thus  whilest  we  follow 
the  nature  of  things,  we  forget  the  names.     Since  this  vnsatiable 

65  thirst  of  gold,  and  vntemperat  humor  of  lust  crept  into  the  kings 
court,  Souldiers  haue  begged  almes  of  Artificers,  and  with  their 
helmet  on  their  head  been  glad  to  follow  a  Louer  with  a  gloue  in  his 
hatte,  which  so  much  abateth  the  courage  of  true  Captaines,  that 
they  must  account  it  more  honorable,  in  the  court  to  be  a  cowarde, 

70  so  rich  and  amorus,  than  in  a  campe  to  be  valiant,  if  poore  and 
maimed.    He  is  more  fauoured  that  pricks  his  finger  with  his  mistres  !  ^    • 
needle,  then  hee  that  breakes  his  launce  on  his  enemies  face :  and 
he  that  hath  his  mouth  full  of  fair  words,  than  he  that  hath  his  bodie 
ful  of  deep  scarres.     If  one  be  olde,  &  haue  siiuer  haires  on  his 

75  beard,  so  he  haue  golden  ruddocks  in  his  bagges,  he  must  be  wise 
and  honourable.  If  young  and  haue  curled  locks  on  his  head, 
amarous  glaunces  with  his  eyes,  smooth  speeches  in  his  mouth,  euerie 
Ladies  lap  shaibe  his  pillow,  euery  Ladies  face  his  glasse,  euery 
Ladies  eare  a  sheath  for  his  flatteries ;  only  Souldiers,  if  they  be  old, 

80  must  beg  in  their  owne  countries ;  if  yong,  trie  the  fortune  of  warres 
in  another.  Hee  is  the  man,  that  being  let  bloud  caries  his  arme  in 
a  scarfe  of  his  mistres  fauour,  not  he  that  beares  hi^legge  on  a  stilt 
for  his  Countries  safetie. 

Soph,    Stay  MartiuSy  though  I  know  loue  to  growe  to  such  losenes,  v 

S5  and  hoarding  to  such  miserie,  that  I  maye  rather  grieue  at  both,  than 
remedie  either :  yet  thy  animating  my  father  to  continual!  armes,  to 

49  there  before  not  Dil,  67  of*  om,  F,  60  gyude]  guide  Bl.i 

gyved  DiL ;  gyvde  F.  rightly 


^«- 


126  MIDAS  [actix 

conquere  crowns,  hath  only  brought  him  into  imminent  danger  of 
his  owne  head.    The  loue  hee  hath  followed — I  feare  vnnaturall,  the 
riches  he  hath  got — I  know  vnmeasurable,  the  warres  he  hath  leuied — 
I  doubt  vnlawfull,  hath  drawn  his  bodie  with  graie  haires  to  the  90 
graues  mouth ;  and  his  minde  with  eating  cares  to  desperate  deter- 
minations:  ambition  hath  but  two  steps,  the  lowest  bloud;   the 
highest  enuie :  both  these  hath  my  vnhappie  father  climbde,  digging 
mines  of  gold  with  the  Hues  of  men,  and  now  enuied  of  the  whole 
world,  is  enuironed  with  enemies  round  about  the  world,  not  know-  95 
ing  that  ambition  hath  one  heele  nayled  in  hell,  though  she  stretch 
her  finger  to  touch  the  heauens.     I  woulde  the  Gods  would  remoue 
this  punishment,  so  that  Mydas  would  be  penitent.    Let  him  thrust 
thee,  Eristus  with  thy  loue,  into  Italie,  where  they  honour  lust  for 
a  God,  as  the  Egyptians  did  dogs :  thee,  Mellacrites  with  thy  greedi- 100 
)  U    ^  nes  of  gold,  to  the  vtmost  partes  of  the  West,  where  all  the  guts  of 

■':,'Y  tl^6  earth  are  gold :  and  thee,  Martins^  that  soundest  but  bloud  and 
terror,  into  those  barbarous  Nations,  where  nothing  is  to  be  found 
but  bloud  and  terror.  Let  Phrygia  be  an  example  of  chastitie,  not 
luste;  liberalitie,  not  couetousnes;  valor,  not  tyrannie.  I  wish  not  105 
your  bodies  banisht,  but  your  mindes,  that  my  father  and  your  king 
may  be  our  honor,  and  the  worlds  wonder.  And  thou,  Ccelia^  and 
all  you  Ladies,  learn  this  of  Sophroniay  that  beautie  in  a  minute  is 
both  a  blossome  and  a  blast :  Loue,  a  worme  which  seeming  to  Hue 
in  the  eye,  dies  in  the  hart.  You  be  all  yong,  and  faire,  endeuor  all  no 
to  be  wise  &  vertuous,  that  when,  like  roses,  you  shal  fall  from  the 
stalke,  you  may  be  gathered  &  put  to  the  stiU. 

CaL    Madam,  I  am  free  from  loue,  and  vnfortunate  to  be  beloued. 

Erist.  To  be  free  from  loue  is  strange,  but  to  thinke  scome  to  be 
beloued,  monstrous.  n^^ 

Soph.  Eristus^  thy  tongue  doth  itch  to  talke  of  loue,  and  my  eares 
tingle  to  heare  it  I  charge  you  all,  if  you  owe  any  duetie  to  your 
king,  to  goe  presently  vnto  the  temple  of  Bacchus^  offer  praise-giftes, 
and  sacrifice,  that  Mydas  may  be  released  of  his  wish,  or  his  life : 
this  I  entreate  you,  this  Mydas  commaunds  you.  larre  not  with  120 
your  selues,  agree  in  one  for  your  king,  if  euer  you  took  Mydas  for 
your  lawful  king. 

Mel.   Madam  we  will  goe,  and  omit  nothing  that  duety  may  per- 
forme,  or  paynes. 

Soph.  Goe  speedeHe,  least  Mydas  die  before  you  retume:  and  125 

118  praise-giftes  Q  BL  F.i  praise,  gifts,  Dil,  123  admit  F. 


sc.i]  MIDAS  127 

you,  CiBliay  shal  go  with  me,  that  with  talk  we  may  beguyle  the  time, 
and  my  father  think  of  no  meat 

ObL   I  attend.  Exeunt. 

SCiENA  2. — {The  same,} 

{Enter)  Licio,  Petulus,  Pipenetta. 

Zicio.     A   H  my  girle,  is  not  this  a  golden  world  ? 

^/\    Pip,   It  is  all  one  as  if  it  were  lead  with  mee,  and  yet 
as  golden  with  mee  as  with  the  king,  for  I  see  it,  and  feele  it  not,  hee 
feeles  it,  &  enioyes  it  not 
5      Licio.  Gold  is  but  the  earths  garbadge,  a  weed  bred  by  the  sunne^ 
the  very  rubbish  of  barren  ground. 

Fet,   Tush  LiciOy  thou  art  vnlettered !  al  the  earth  is  an  egge :  the 
white,  siluer ;  the  yolk,  gold. 

Lido.   Why  thou  foole,  what  hen  should  lay  that  egge  ? 
10      jPip.   I  warrant  a  Goose. 
Lido,   Nay  I  beleeue  a  Bull. 
Pet.   Blirt  to  you  both !  it  was  layd  by  the  Sunne. 

Pip.   The  Sun  is  rather  a  cock  than  a  hen.  ■> 

Lido.   Tis  true  girle,  els  how  could  Titan  haue  troaden  Daphne  ? 
1 5      Pet.   I  weep  ouer  both  your  wits !  if  I  proue  in  euerie  respect  no 
difference  between  an  egge  and  golde,  will  you  not  then  graunt  gold 
to  be  an  egge  ? 
Pip.   Yes,  but  I  beleue  thy  idle  imagination  wil  make  it  an  addle 

20      Lido.   Let  vs  heare.     Proceed  Doctor  egge. 

Pet.   Gold  wil  be  crackt :  A  common  saying,  a  crackt  crowne. 

Pip.   I,  thats  a  broken  head. 

Pet.   Nay  then  I  see  thou  hast  a  broken  wit. 

Lido.   Wei,  suppose  gold  wil  crack. 
25      Pet.   So  wil  an  eg. 

Lido.    On. 

Pet.   An  egge  is  rosted  in  the  fire. 

Pip.   Well. 

Pet.   So  is  gold  tried  in  the  fire. 
30      Lido.   Foorth. 

Pet.   An  egge  (as  Physicions  say)  will  make  one  lustie. 

s.  D.  The  three  councillors  are  not,  as  usual  in  the  old  eds.^  enumerated  with  the 
servants  at  the  head  of  the  scene :  their  entry  is  duly  notified  at  the  proper  plcue 


'7 


128  MIDAS  [act  II 

Pip,   Conclude. 

Pet   And  who  knowes  not  that  gold  will  make  one  frolike  ? 

Ldcio.  Pipenetta  this  is  true,  for  it  is  called  egge,  as  a  thing  that 
doth  egge  on,  so  doth  gold.  35 

Pip,   Let  vs  heare  all. 

Pet.   Egges  potcht  are  for  a  weake  stomach,  &  golde  boyld^  for 
a  consuming  bodie. 

Lido,   Spoken  like  a  Physicion. 

Pip,   Or  a  foole  of  necessitie.  40 

Pet,   An  egge  is  eaten  at  one  sup,  and  a  portague  lost  at  one 
cast. 

Lido,   Gamester-like  concluded. 

Pet,    £gs  make  custards,  and  gold  makes  spoones  to  eat  them. 

Pip,   A  reason  dowe-baked.  45 

Lido,   O !  the  ouen  of  his  wit  was  not  throwly  heated. 

Pet,   Only  this  ods  I  (inde  betweene  mony  and  egs,  which  makes 
2^   <C      me  wonder,  that  being  more  pence  in  the  world  than  ^s,  that 
one  should  haue  three  egges  for  a  peny,  and  not  three  pence  for  an 
egge.  50 

Pip,   A  wonderful  matter !  but  your  wisdome  is  ouershotte  in  your 
comparison,  for  egs  haue  chickens,  gold  hath  none. 

Pet,   Mops  I  pittie  thee  I  gold  hath  egs ;  change  an  angel  into  ten 
shillings,  and  all  those  peeces  are  the  angels  egges. 

Lddo,   He  hath  made  a  spoke,  wilt  thou  eat  an  egge  ?  but  soft^  here  55 
come  our  masters,  let  vs  shrinke  aside. 

Enter  Mellacrites,  Martius,  Eristus. 

Mel,    A  short  answere,  yet  a  sound,  Bacchus  is  pithy  and  pitifulL 

(^Reads  the)  Oracle, 

Ln  Pactolus  goe  bathe  thy  wish,  and  thee^ 
Thy  wish  the  wanes  shal  haue,  and  thou  be  free. 
Mar,    I  vnderstand  no  Oracles !  shal  the  water  turne  euery  thing  60 
to  gold  ?   what  then  shal  become  of  the  fish  ?   shal  he  be  free  from 
gold  ?  what  then  shal  become  of  vs,  of  his  crowne,  of  our  Countrie  ? 
I  like  not  these  riddles. 

Mel,   Thou  Martius  art  so  warlike,  that  thou  wouldest  cut  of  the 
wish  with  a  sworde,  not  cure  it  with  a  salue :  but  the  Gods  that  can  65 
geue  the  desires  of  the  heart,  can  as  easilie  withdraw  the  torment. 

56  comet  Dil,  s.  D.  [Reads  the  Oracle]  F, :    Q  Bl,  Dil,  have  simpfy 

Oracle 


sen]  MIDAS  139 

Suppose  Vulcan  should  so  temper  thy  sword,  that  were  thy  heart  neuer 
so  valeant,  thine  arme  neuer  so  strong,  yet  thy  blade  shoulde  neuer 
draw  bloudy  wouldest  not  thou  wish  to  haue  a  weaker  hand,  and 
70  a  sharper  edge? 
Mar.  Yes. 

MeL   If  Mars  should  answere  thee  thus,  goe  bath  thy  sword  in 
water,  and  wash  thy  hands  in  milke,  and  thy  sword  shal  cleaue 
adamant,  and  thy  heart  answere  the  sharpnes  of  thy  sword,  wouldst 
75  not  thou  trie  the  conclusion? 
Mar.  What  els? 

Mel.  Then  let  Mydas  beleeue  tS  he  haue  tried,  and  thinke  that 
the  Gods  rule  as  wel  by  geuing  remedies,  as  graunting  wishes.    But 
Erisius  is  mum. 
80     Mar,   Calia  hath  sealed  his  mouth. 

Erist.   Calia  hath  sealed  her  face  in  my  heart,  which  I  am  no 
more  ashamed  to  confesse,  than  thou  that  Mars  bath  made  a  scarre 
in  thy  face  Martius.    But  let  vs  in  to  the  king.    Sir  boies  you  wait 
wel! 
85     Ftt  We  durst  not  go  to  Bacchus^  for  if  I  see  a  grape,  my  head 
akes. 
Erist.  And  if  I  finde  a  cudgell  He  make  your  shoulders  ake. 
Mel.  And  you  Luio^  wait  on  your  selfe. 
JJcio.   I  cannot  chuse  sir,  I  am  alwaies  so  neer  my  selfe. 
90     Mel.   He  be  as  neere  you  as  your  skin  presently.  Exeunt 


ACTUS  3. 

ScA.  1. — {77u  same.y 

{Enter}  Mydas,  Mellacrites,  Martius,  Eristus. 
Midas  {reading  the  Oracle). 

IN  Pcutolus  go  bathe  thy  wish  and  thee, 
Thy  wish  the  wanes  shal  haue,  and  thou  be  free. 
Miserable  Mydas,  as  vnaduised  in  thy  wish,  as  in  thy  successe 
vnfortunat     O  vnquenchable  thirst  of  gold,  which  tumeth  mens 
5  heads  to  lead,  and  makest  them  blockish ;  their  hearts  to  iron,  and 

s.  D.  [reading  the  Oracle]  addid  F.  i  bathe  Q  mods. :  bath  Bl.* 

BOND  UI  K 


t30  MIDAS  [act  III 

makest  them  couetous ;  their  eyes  to  delight  in  the  view,  and  makest 
them  blinde  in  the  vse.    I  that  did  possesse  mynes  of  golde,  could 
not  bee  contented  till  my  minde  were  also  a  myne.    Could  not  the 
treasure  of  Phrygia,  nor  the  tributes  of  Greece,  nor  mountaines  in    . 
the   East,  whose  guts   are   gold,  satisfie   thy   minde  with   gold  ?  lo 
Ambition  eateth  gold,  &  drinketh  blood ;  climeth  so  high  by  other 
mens  heads,  that  she  breaketh  her  owne  necke.    What  should  I  doo 
with  a  world  of  ground,  whose  bodie  must  be  content  with  seauen 
foote  of  earth  ?  or  why  did   I  couet  to  get   so   manie   crownes, 
hauing  my  self  but  one  head?    Those  that  tooke  small  vessellsat  15 
the  sea,  I  accompted  Pyrates ;  and  my  selfe  that  suppressed  whole 
Fleetes^  a  Conquerour :  as  though  robberies  of  Mydas  might  masque 
vnder  the  names  of  triumphs,  and  the  traffique  of  other  Nations 
bee  called  treacherie.    Thou  hast  pampred  vp  thy  selfe  with  slaughter, 
as  Diamedes  ^v\  his  horse  with  blood;  so  vnsatiable  thy  thirst,  so  20 
heauie  thy   sword.    Two  bookes  haue  I  alwaies  carried   in   my 
bosome,   calling  thenv  the  dagger,  and  the  sword;   in  which  the 
names  of  all  Princes,  Noblemen,  and  Gentlemen  were  dedicated  to 
slaughter,  or  if  not  (which  worse  is)  to  slauerie.      O  my   Lords, 
when   I  call  to   minde   my  cruelties  in  Lycaonia,  my  vsurpiog  35 
in  Getulia,  my  oppression  in  Sola :  then  do  I  finde  neither  merdes 
in  my  conquests,  nor  colour  for  my  warres,  nor  measure  in  my  taxes. 
I  haue  written  my  lawes  in  blood,  and  made  my  Gods  of  golde ; 
I  haue  caused  the  mothers  wombes  to  bee  their  childrens  tombes, 
cradles  to  swimme  in  blood  like  boates,  and  the  temples  of  the  30 
Gods  a  stewes  for  strumpets.    Haue  not  I  made  the  sea  to  groane 
vnder  the  number  of  my  ships :  and  haue  they  not  perished,  that 
there  was  not  two  left  to  make  a  number?    Haue  I  not  thrust  my 
subiects  into  a  Camp,  like  oxen  into  a  Cart ;  whom  hauing  made 
slaues  by  vniust  warres,  I  vse  now  as  slaues  for  all  warres?    Haue  35 
not  I  entised  the  subiects  of  my  neighbor  Princes  to  destroy  their 
natural  Kings?  like  moaths  that  eate  the  cloth  in  which  they  were 
bred,  like  vipers  that  gnawe  the  bowels  of  which  they  were  borne, 
and  like  woorm^  that  consume  the  wood  in  which  they  were 
ingendred?    To  what  kingdome  haue  not  I  pretended  clayme?  8840 
though  I  had  been  by  the  Gods  created  heire  apparant  to  the  world, 
making  euerie  trifle  a  title;  and  all   the  territories  about  me, 
traitour^  to  me.    Why  did  I  wish  that  all  might  bee  gold  I  toucht, 

8  i|Uo]  aU  DU,  10  East  so  all  thy]  my  Dil  14  feet  Dih 

27  kingdoms  b^crt  Midas  DU.  ao  horses  DU.  37  dothes  DiL 


i]  MIDAS  131 

but  that  I  thought  all  mens  hearts  would  bee  touched  with  gold, 

45  that  what  pollicie  could  not  compasse,  nor  prowes,  gold  might  haue 
commaunded,  and  conquered?  A  bridge  of  gold  did  I  mean  to 
make  in  that  Iland  where  all  my  nauie  could  not  make  a  breach. 
Those  Ilandes  did  I  long  to  touch,  that  I  might  tume  them  to 
gold,  and  my  selfe  to  glorie.     But  vnhappie  Mydas^  who  by  the 

50  same  meanes  perisheth  himself,  that  he  thought  to  conquere  others : 
being  now  become  a  shame  to  the  world,  a  scome  to  that  petie 
Prince,  and  to  thy  self  a  consumption.  A  petie  Prince,  Mydas^  no, 
a  Prince  protected  by  the  Gods,  by  Nature,  by  his  own  vertue,  and 
his  Subiects  obedience.     Haue  not  all  treasons  beene  discouered  by 

55  miracle,  not  counsell  ?  that  doo  the  Gods  chalenge.     Is  not  the 
Countrie  walled  with  huge  wanes?  that  dooth  Nature  claime.     Is 
hee  not  through  the  whole  world  a  wonder,  for  wisdome  and  temper- 
ance?  that  is  his  owne  strength.      Doe  not  all  his  Subiects  (like    ^  ^ 
Bees)  swarme  to  preserue  the  King  of  Bees?  that  their  loyaltie 

60  mainteineth.  My  Lords,  I  faint  both  for  lack  of  food,  &  want  of 
grace.  I  will  to  the  riuer,  where  if  I  be  rid  of  this  intoUerable  disease 
of  gold,  I  will  next  shake  off  that  vntemperat  desire  of  gouemment, 
and  measure  my  Territories,  pot  by  the  greatnesse  of  my  minde,  but 
the  right  of  my  Succession. 

65  Mar.  I  am  not  a  little  sorrie,  that  because  all  that  your  Highnesse 
toucheth  turneth  to  pure  golde,  therefore  all  your  Princely  affections 
should  be  conuerted  to  drosse.  Doeth  your  Maiestie  b^in  to  melt 
your  owne  Crowne,  that  should  make  it  with  other  Monarchies 
massie?     B^in  you  to  make  incloasure  of  your  minde,  and  to 

70  debate  of  inheritance,  when  the  sworde  proclaimes  you  conqueror? 
If  your  Highnes  heart  be  not  of  kingdome  proofe,  euery  pelting 
Prince  will  batter  it.  Though  you  lose  this  garish  golde,  let  your 
minde  be  still  of  Steele,  and  let  the  sharpest  sword  decide  the  right 
of  Scepters. 

75      Mid,  Euerie  little  king  is  a  king,  and  the  title  consisteth  not  in 
the  compasse  of  grounde,  but  in  the  right  of  inheritaqce. 
Mar,   Are  not  conquests  good  titles  ? 
Mid.   Conquests  are  great  thefts. 
Mar.   If  your  Highnesse  would  be  aduised  by  mee,  then  would 

80  I  rob  for  kingdomes,  and  if  I  obteyned,  fain  woulde  I  see  him  that 
durste  call  the  Cbnquerour  a  theefe. 

66  and  before  i^atxtUatt  M  eds,  F,  71  <Aom,  Dii,  7  a  loie]  use  F, 

this  om,  Dil, 

K  2 


6 


132  MIDAS  [act  iii^  sc.  t 

.  Mid.  Martins^  thy  councell  hath  shed  as  much  bloud  as  would 
make  another  sea.  Valor  I  cannot  call  it,  and  barbarousnesse  is 
a  worde  too  milde.  Come  Mellacrites^  let  vs  goe,  and  come  you 
EristuSy  that  if  I  obteine  mercie  of  BacchuSy  wee  may  offer  Sacrifice  85 
to  Bacchus.  MarHus^  if  you  be  not  disposed  to  goe,  dispose  as  you 
will  of  your  selfe. 

Mar.  I  will  humbly  attend  on  your  Highnesse,  as  still  hoping  to 
faaue  my  hearts  desire,  and  you  your  height  of  honor.  Exeunt 

SCiE.  2. — {The  same,} 
Licio,  Petulus,  Dello,  Motto. 

{Enter  Licio  and  Petulus.) 

/V/.  A  H  Ziao,  a  bots  on  the  Barbar !  euer  since  I  cosened  him 
x\.     of  the  golden  beard  I  haue  had  the  toothach. 

Zicio.  I  think  MoUo  hath  poysoned  thy  gummes. 

Pe/.   It  is  a  deadlie  paine. 

Zicio,   I  knew  a  dog  run  mad  with  it  5 

Pe/.  1  beleeue  it  Ziao^  and  thereof  it  is  that  they  cal  it  a  dogged 
paine.  Thou  knowest  I  haue  tried  all  old  womens  medicins,  and 
cunning  mens  charms,  but  interim  my  teeth  ake. 

Enter  Dello  the  barbers  boy, 

Dello  (aside),   I  am  glad  I  haue  heard  the  wags,  to  be  quittance 
for  ouer-hearing  vs.    We  wil  take  the  vantage,  they  shall  finde  vs  10 
quick  Barbers.     He  tel  Motto  my  master,  and  then  we  will  hau6 
Quid  pro  quOy  a  tooth  for  a  beard.  Exit. 

Pet.  LiciOy  to  make  me  merrie  I  pray  thee  go  forward  with  the 
description  of  thy  mistres :  thou  must  beginne  how  at  the  paps. 

Licio,   Indeed  {Petulus)  a  good  beginning  for  thee,  for  thou  canst  15 
eat  pappe  now,  because  thou  canst  bite  nothing  els.    But  I  haue  not 
mind  on  those  matters.     If  the  king  lose  his  golden  wish,  wee 
shall  haue  but  a  brasen  Court ; — but  what  became  of  the  beard; 
Petulus  ? 

Pet.   I  haue  pawnd  it,  for  I  durst  not  coyn  it.  ao 

Licio,  What  doest  thou  pay  for  the  pawning  ? 

Pet.  Twelue  pence  in  the  pound  for  the  moneth. 

s.  D.  Enter  Dkllo  ... .  boy  Q  Bl.  F. :  Dello  enters  behind  them  DU.  16 

not]  no  Dil. 


«c  ii]  MIDAS  13.3 

Udo.  What  for  the  herbage  ? 
Pet   It  is  not  at  herbage. 
25      IaHo.  Yes  Fetulus^  if  it  be  a  beard  it  must  be  at  herbadge,  for 
a  beard  is  a  badge  of  haire ;  and  a  badge  of  haire,  hairbadge. 


y^ 


J  .'•    .    \. 


Enter  Motto  with  Dello. 

Motto.  DellOy  thou  knowest  Mydas  toucht  his  beard,  and  twas 
gold. 

DeUo.  Well 
30      Motto.  That  the  Pages  cosend  me  of  it. 

Dello.   Noh'e. 

Motto.   That  I  must  be  reuenged. 

Dello.   In  good  time. 

Motto.   Thou  knowest  I  haue  taught  thee  the  knacking  of  the 
35  hands,  the  tickling  on  a  mans  haires,  like  the  tuning  of  a  Cittern. 

Dello.   True. 

Motto.  Besides,  I  instructed  thee  in  the  phrases  of  our  eloquent 
occupation,  as  'how  sir  will  you  be  trimmed?  wil  you  haue  your  ^ 

beard  like  a  spade,  or  a  bodkin  ?  a  penthouse  on  your  vpper  lip,  or  ^  ' 
40  an  allie  on  your  chin  ?  a  lowe  curie  on  your  head  like  a  Bull,  or 
dangling  lock  like  a  spaniel  ?  your  mustachoes  sharp  at  the  endes, 
like  shomakers  aules,  or  hanging  down  to  your  mouth  like  Goates 
flakes  ?  your  loue-locks  wreathed  with  a  silken  twist,  or  shaggie  to  fal 
on  your  shoulders  ? ' 
45  Dello.  I  confesse  you  haue  taught  me  TulUe  de  oratore^  the  very 
art  of  trimming. 

Motto.  Wei  for  all  this  I  desire  no  more  at  thy  hands,  than  to 
keep  secrete  the  reuenge  I  haue  prepared  for  the  Pages. 

Dello.   O  sir,  you  know  I  am  a  Barber,  and  cannot  tittle  tattle, 
50  I  am  one  of  those  whose  tongues  are  swelde  with  silence. 

Motto.  Indeed  thou  shouldst  be  no  blab,  because  a  barber,  there- 
fore be  secret. — (^Louder.)  Was  it  not  a  good  cure  DellOy  to  ease  the 
toothach  and  neuer  touch  the  tooth  ? 

Dello.    O  master,  he  that  is  your  patient  for  the  toothach,  I  warrant 
55  is  patient  of  all  aches. 

Motto.  I  did  but  rub  his  gummes,  and  presentlie  the  rewme 
euaporated. 

IJcio.   Deus  boney  is  that  worde  come  into  the  Barbers  bason  ? 

38-44  '  how  . . .  shoulders?'  itrv.  commas  first  F.  56  rhenme  Bl.  mods. 


134  MIDAS  [ACT  in 

Dello.  I  sir  and  why  not?   My  master  Is  a  Barber  and  a  Sui^eon. 

Licio.   In  good  time.  60 

Pet  O  MottOy  I  am  almost  dead  with  the  toothach,  al  my  gummes 
are  swollen,  and  my  teeth  stande  in  my  head  like  thornes. 

Motto.  It  may  be  that  it  is  only  the  breding  of  a  beard,  and  being 
the  first  beard,  you  shall  haue  a  hard  trauel. 

Pet.   Old  foole,  doest  thou  thinke  haires  will  breede  in  my  teeth  ?  65 

Motto.   As  likelie  sir,  for  any  thing  I  know,  as  on  your  chinne. 

Pet.   O  teeth !  6  torments ! — 6  torments !  6  teeth ! 

Motto  {aside  to  his  boy).   May  I  but  touch  them  Dello^  He  teach 
his  tong  to  tel  a  tale,  what  villenie  it  is  to  cosen  one  of  a  bearde,  but 
stand  not  thou  nigh,  for  it  is  ods  when  he  spits,  but  that  all  his  teeth  70 
flie  in  thy  face. 

Lido.  QooA  Motto  geue  some  ease,  for  at  thy  comming  in,  I  ouer- 
heard  of  a  cure  thou  hadst  done. 

Pet.  My  teeth !  I  wil  not  haue  this  paine,  thats  certain ! 

Motto.   I,  so  did  you  ouer-heare  me,  when  you  cosened  me  of  75 
a  beard :  but  I  foiget  alL 

Deilo.  My  master  is  mild  and  mercifuU :  and  mercifull,  because 
a  Barber,  for  when  he  hath  the  throat  at  commaund,  you  know  hee 
taketh  reuenge  but  on  a  siUie  haire. 

Motto.   How  now  Petulus^  do  they  still  ake  ?  80 

Pet.   \  Motto. 

Motto.  Let  me  rub  your  gummes  with  this  leafe. 

Pet.   Doe  Motto^  and  for  thy  labor  I  wil  requite  thee.    {Under 
pretence  of  easing  Motto  hurts  him.)    Out  rascal !  what  hast  thou 
done  ?  all  my  nether  teeth  are  lose,  and  wag  like  the  keyes  of  a  paire  85 
of  virginals. 

Dello.  O  sir,  if  you  wil,  I  will  sing  to  them,  your  mouth  beeing 
the  instrument 

/V/.   Doe  Dello. 

Dello.   Out,  villen  1  thou  bitest    I  cannot  tune  these  virginal  keyes.  90 

Pet.  They  were  the  lackes  aboue,  the  keyes  beneath  were  easie. 

DeUo.  A  bots  on  your  lacks  and  lawes  too ! 

Lido.   They  were  virginalls  of  your  masters  making. 

Pet.   O  my  teeth !  good  Motto  what  wil  ease  my  pain  ? 

Motto.  Nothing  in  the  world,  but  to  let  me  lay  a  golden  beard  to  95 
your  chinne. 

64  travail  DiL  68  [aside  &c]  DiL  suppl.  (aside)  s.  D.  [Under  . . .  hurts 
him.]  Motto  robs  hi^  gams  twjj^r^/W. 


ii]  MIDAS  I3i 

Fet.  It  is  at  plwiie. 

Motto.  You  are  like  to  fetch  it  out  with  your  teeth,  or  goe  without 
your  teeth. 
ICO  Pttn  Motto  withdraw  thy  selfe,  it  may  be  thou  shalt  drawe  my 
teeth ;  attend  my  resolution.  (  Motto  and  Dello  retire, )  A  doubt* 
full  dispute,  whether  I  were  best  to  loose  my  golden  beard,  or  my 
bone  tooth?    Helpe  me  Lycio  to  determine. 

Ucio.   Your  teeth  ake  FetuluSy  your  beard  doth  not. 
^05      Pet.   I  but  LyciOy  if  I  part  from  my  beard,  my  heart  will  ake. 

Licio.  If  your  tooth  be  hollow  it  must  be  stopt,  or  puld  out ;  and 
stop  it  the  Barbar  wil  not,  without  the  beard. 

Pet,   My  heart  is  hollow  too,  and  nothing  can  stop  it  but  gold. 

Licio.  Thou  canst  not  eate  meate  without  teeth, 
no     Pet.   Nor  buy  it  without  money. 

Licio.  Thou  maist  get  more  gold ;  if  thou  loose  these,  more  teeth 
thou  canst  not. 

Pet.   I  but  the  golden  beard  will  last  me  ten  yeres  in  porredge,  and 
then  to  what  vse  are  teeth  ? 
115      Licio.   If  thou  want  teeth,  thy  toung  will  catch  cold. 

Pet.  Tis  true,  and  if  I  lacke  money  my  whole  bodie  may  go  naked. 
But  LyciOy  let  the  Barbar  haue  his  beard,  I  will  haue  a  deuice  (by 
thy  helpe)  to  get  it  againe,  &  a  cousenage  beyond  that,  maugre  his 
beard. 
1 30  Licio.  Thats  the  best  way,  both  to  ease  thy  paines,  and  trie 
our  wits. 

Pet.   Barber,  eleuen  of  my  teeth  haue  gone  on  a  lury,  to  trie 
whether  the  beard  bee  thine,  they  haue  chosen  my  tongue  for 
the  foreman,  which  cryeth,  guiltie. 
135      Motto.   Guilded,  nay  boy,  al  my  beard  was  gold.    It  was  not 
guilt,  I  wil  not  be  so  ouer-matcht. 

Dello.   You  cannot  pose  my  master  in  a  beard.    Come  to  his 
house  you  shall  sit  vpon  twentie,  all  his  cushions  are  stuft  with 
beards. 
130     Licio.   Let  him  goe  home  with  thee,  ease  him,  and  thou  shalt 
haue  thy  beard. 

Motto.   I  am  content,  but  I  wil  haue  the  beard  in  my  hand  to 
be  sure. 

Pet,  And  I  thy  finger  in  my  mouth  to  be  sure  of  ease. 
135      Motto.  Agreed. 

s.  D.  [Motto  . . .  retire] /rr/  in  Dil. :  om.  F.         120  to  before  try  Bl.  F. 


'/c 


136  MIDAS  [ACTiir 

Pet  Dello^  sing  a  song  to  the  tune  of  my  te^  do  ake. 

Delia.   1  wiU. 

The  Song. 

Pet^    O  ^^  Teeth!  deare  Barber  ease  me, 

^"^  Tongue  tell  mee,  why  my  Teeth  disease  mee, 
O !  what  will  rid  me  of  this  paine?  140 

Motto.   Some  Pellitory  fetcht  from  Spaine. 
Ucio.   Take  Masticke  else. 
Pet»  Mastick's  a  patch. 

Masticke  does  many  a  fooles  face  catch. 
^      If  suche  a  paine  should  breed  the  Home, 

Twere  happy  to  be  Cuckolds  borne.  145 

Should  Beards  with  such  an  ach  begin, 
Each  Boy  to  th'  bone  would  scrub  his  chin. 
Lido.    His  Teeth  now  ake  not 
Motto.  Caper  then, 

And  cry  vp  checkerd-apron  men: 

There  is  no  Trade  but  shaues,  150 

For,  Barbers  are  trimme  Knaues, 
Some  are  in  shauing  so  profound, 

By  trickes  they  shaue  a  Kingdome  round. 

Exeunt. 

SCiB,  3. — {TAe  same,} 

{Enter}  Sophronia,  C^elia,  Camilla,  Amerula   Suauia. 

Sop  A.  TAdies,  here  must  we  attend  the  happy  return  of  my 
J  ^  father,  but  in  the  mean  season  what  pastime  shal 
we  vse  to  passe  the  time  ?  I  wil  agree  to  any,  so  it  be  not  to  talke 
of  loue. 

Sua.  Then  sleepe  is  the  best  exercise.  5 

SopA,  Why  Suauia^  are  you  so  light,  that  you  must  chat  of  loue ; 
or  so  heauie,  that  you  must  needes  sleepe  ?  Penelope  in  the  absence 
of  her  Lord  beguyled  the  daies  with  spinning. 

Sua.  Indeed  she  spun  a  faire  threed,  if  it  were  to  make  a  string 
to  the  bow  wherin  she  drew  her  woers.  10 

Soph.  Why  Suauia,  it  was  a  bow  which  she  knew  to  be  aboue 
their  strength,  and  therein  she  shewde  her  wit. 

Sua.  Qui  latus  arguerit  corneus  arcus  erat:  it  was  made  of  home 
madam,  and  therin  she  shewde  her  meaning. 

Soph.  Why,  doest  thou  not  think  she  was  chast  ?  15 

S.D.  The  soDg  50  Qf  without  giving  the  wordsy  which  first  appear  in  Bl.  12 
their]  thy  QBi.P.i  her  Dii.  13  aignerit  so  all 


Ill]  MIDAS  137 

Sua.  Yes,  of  all  her  woers. 

SopA, .  To  talke  with  thee  is  to  lose  time,  not  well  to  spend  it :  how 
say  you,  Amerula^  what  shal  we  do  ? 

Ame.  Tel  tales. 
30      Soph.  What  say  you  Calia  f 

Cal   Sing.  ^ 

SopA.    What  think  you  Camilla  t 

Cam.    Daunce.  ' 

SopA.   You  see  Suauia^  that  there  are  other  things  to  keep  one 
35  from  idlenes,  besides  loue :    nay  that  there  is  nothing  to  make  i^ 
idlenes,  but  loue. 

Sua.   Well,  let  mee  stande  by  and  feede  mine  owne  thoughts 
with  sweetenes,  whilest  they  iil  your  eyes  and  eares  with  songs  and 
dauncings. 
30      Soph.   Amerula,  begin  thy  tale. 

Ame.  There  dwelt  somtiroes  in  Phrygia,  a  Lady  very  fair,  but 
passing  froward,  as  much  maruelled  at  for  beutie,  as  for  peeuishnes 
misliked.  Hie  she  was  in  the  instep,  but  short  in  the  heele ;  strait  \  |  5 
laced,  but  loose  bodied.  It  came  to  passe,  that  a  gentleman,  as 
35  yong  in  wit  as  yeres,  and  in  yeres  a  very  boy,  chanced  to  glaunce 
his  eies  on  her,  &  there  were  they  dazeled  on  her  beautie,  as 
larkes  that  are  caught  in  the  Sunne  with  the  glittering  of  a  glasse. 
In  her  faire  lookes  were  his  thoughts  intangled,  like  the  birdes  of 
Canarie,  that  fal  into  a  silken  net  Dote  he  did  without  measure, 
40  and  die  he  must  without  her  loue.  She  on  the  other  side,  as  one 
that  knew  her  good,  began  to  looke  askaunce,  yet  felt  the  passions  of 
loue  eating  into  her  heart,  though  shee  dissembled  them  with  her  eyes. 

Sua.    Ha,  ha,  he  ! 

Soph.  Why  laughest  thou  ? 
^5  Sua.  To  see  you  (Madame)  so  tame  as  to  be  brought  to  heare 
a  tale  of  loue,  that  before  were  so  wylde  you  would  not  come  to 
the  name ;  and  that  Amerula  could  deuise  how  to  spend  the  time 
with  a  tale,  onely  that  she  might  not  talke  of  loue,  and  now  to  make 
loue  onely  her  tale. 
50  Soph.  Indeed  I  was  ouershot  in  iudgement,  and  she  in  dis- 
cretion.   Amerula^  another  tale  or  none,  this  is  too  louely. 

Sua.   Nay  let  me  heare  anie  woman  tell  a  tale  of  x  lines  long 
without  it  tend  to  loue,  &  I  wil  be  bound  neuer  to  come  at  the 

3a  forward  Z)f7.  36  on']  with  i9i7.         ^i  ht  old eds.  Dil.  i  ha  F.         52 

X  Q :  tenne  BL  mods. 


138  MIDAS  [act  lit 

Court.  And  you  Camilla  that  would  fain  trip  on  your  petitoes; 
can  you  perswade  me  you  take  delight  to  dance,  &  not  loue  ?  or  55 
you  that  cannot  rule  your  feet,  can  guid  your  affections,  hauing  the 
one  as  vnstaid  as  the  other  vnsteadie  :  dauncing  is  loue  sauce,  there- 
fore I  dare  be  so  sawcie,  as  if  you  loue  to  daunce,  to  say  you  daunce 
'^  for  loue.    But  Calia  she  will  sing,  whose  voice  if  it  should  vtter  her 

thoughts,  would  make  the  tune  of  a  hart  out  of  tune*  She  that  hath  60 
crochets  in  her  head,  hath  also  loue  conceipts.  I  dare  sweare  she 
harpeth  not  oneiy  on  plaine  song :  &  before  you  {Sqphronia)  none  of 
them  all  vse  plaine  dealing ;  but  because  they  see  you  so  curious 
they  frame  themselues  counterfet.  For  my  selfe,  as  I  knowe  honest 
loue  to  bee  a  thing  inseperable  from  our  sex,  so  doo  I  thinke  it  65 
most  allowable  in  the  Court ;  vnlesse  we  would  haue  all  our  thoughts 
made  of  Church-worke,  and  so  carrie  a  holie  face,  and  a  hollow  hart* 

Soph,   Ladies,  how  like  you  Suauia  in  her  louing  vaine  ? 

Ccel.  Wee  are  content  at  this  time  to  sooth  her  in  her  vanitie. 

Ame.  Shee  casts  all  our  mindes  in  the  mould  of  her  owne  head,  70 
and  yet  erreth  as  farre  from  our  meanings,  as  she  doth  from  her 
owne  modestie. 

Sua.  Amerula^  if  you  were  not  bitter,  your  name  had  been  ill 
bestowed:   but  I  think  it  as  lawfull  in  the  Court  to  bee  counted 
louing  and  chast,  as  you  in  the  Temple  to  seeme  religious,  and  be  75 
spitefulL 

Cam.  I  meruaile  you  will  reply  ante  more  Amerula^  her  toung  is 
so  nimble  it  will  neuer  lye  still. 

Sua.  The  liker  thy  feete  Camilla^  which  were  taught  not  to  stand 
still  80 

Soph.  So,  no  more  Ladies :  let  our  comming  to  sport  not  toume 
to  spight  Loue  thou  Suauia,  if  thou  thinke  it  sweete :  sing  thou 
Calia  for  thine  owne  content:  tell  thou  tales,  and  daunce  thou 
Camilla:  and  so  euerie  one  vsing  hir  own  delight,  shall  haue  no 
cause  to  be  discontent    But  here  cdmeth  Martius  &  the  rest.  85 

{Enter  Martius,  Mellacrites,  and  others,^ 

What  newes  Martius  of  my  Soueraigne  and  Father  Mydas  f 
Mar.   Madam,  he  no  sooner  bathed  his  lims  in  the  riuer,  but  it 
tumde  to  a  golden  stream,  the  sands  to  fine  gold,  and  all  to  gold 

54  CtmilU  DU. :  C«IU  Q  BL  F.     Cf.  11.  23,  79  {pp.  137,  138)  55  you*] 

to  previous  eds,  from  subsequent  to  59  Cselia  Dil. :  Camilla  Q  Bi,  F.    Cf. 

It,  ai,  8a  {fp.  137,  138)  her  om.  Dil.  s.  D.  [Enter  Martius  . .  • 

othen]  Dtlh  amy 


^c  m]  MIDAS  t39 

that  was  cast  into  the  water.    Mydas  dismaid  at  the  sodaine  altera* 

5^  tion,  assaied  againe  to  touch  a  stone,  but  he  could  not  alter  the 
tiature  of  the  stone.  Then  went  we  with  him  to  the  Temple  of 
Bacchus^  where  we  offred  a  launce  wreathed  about  with  yuie, 
Garlands  of  ripe  grapes,  and  skinnes  of  Wolues  and  Panthers,  and 
a  great  standing  cup  of  the  water,  which  so  lately  was  turnd  to 

95  golde.  Bacchus  accepted  our  giftes,  commaunding  Mydas  to  honour 
the  Gods,  and  also  in  wishing  to  bee  as  wise,  as  he  meant  to  haue 
made  him  fortunate. 

SapJu  Happie  Sophronia,  thou  hast  liued  to  heare  these  newes, 
and  happie  Mydas^  if  thou  Hue  better  to  gouern  thy  fortune.    But 

loo  what  is  become  of  our  king  ? 

MeL  Mydas  ouerioyed  with  this  good  fortune,  determined  to  vse 
some  solace  in  the  woods ;  where,  by  chaunce  we  roused  a  great 
bore :  he  eager  of  the  sport,  outrid  vs ;  and  wee  thinking  hee  had 
been  come  to  his  Pallace  some  other  way,  came  our  selues  the  next 

X05  way.    If  he  be  not  returned,  he  cannot  be  long :  we  haue  also  lost 
our  pages,  which  we  thinke  are  with  him. 

Soph,  The  Gods  shield  him  from  all  harmes :  the  woods  are  full 
of  Tygers,  and  he  of  courage :  wilde  beasts  make  no  difference  be* 
tween  a  king  &  a  clowne ;  nor  hunters  in  the  heat  of  their  pastime, 

1x0  feare  no  more  the  iiersnes  of  the  boare,  th£  the  fearfulnes  of  the 
bare.    But  I  hope  well,  let  vs  in  to  see  all  well.  Exeunt 


ACTUS  4. 

SCiENA  1. —  {Glade  in  a  Forest  on  Mount  Thio/us.} 
Apollo.    Pan.    Mydas.    Nymphes. 

{£nter  Apollo,  Pan,  Erato  and  Nymphs.) 

Apollo,  13^^  ^^^^  ^^^^  contend  with  Apollo^  who  tunes  the  heauens, 
XT  and  makes  them  all  hang  by  harmony  ?  Orpheus  that 
caused  trees  to  moue  with  the  sweetnes  of  his  harp,  offreth  yerely 
homage  to  my  lute:  so  doth  Arion^  that  brought  Dolphins  to  his 
5  sugred  notes;  and  Amphion^  that  by  musicke  reard  the  walls  of 
Thebes.     Onely  Pan  with  his  harsh  whistle  (which  makes  beasts 

98  these]  this  Dil,  103  bore:]  bore,  Q  Bl.  F.  ill  I  <wf.  BL  F. 


X49  MIDAS  (act  IV 

shake  for  fear^  not  men  dance  for  ioy)  seekes  to  compare  with 
Apollo. 

Pan,  Pan  is  a  God^  Apollo  i$  no  more.  Comparisons  cannot 
bee  odious,  where  the  Dieties  are  equall.  This  pipe  (my  sweete  lo 
pipe)  was  once  a  Nymph,  a  faire  Nymph;  once  my  louely  Mis- 
tres,  now  my  heauenly  musicke.  Tell  mee  Apollo^  is  there  anie 
instrument  so  sweete  to  play  on  as  ones  Mistres?  Had  thy  lute 
been  of  lawrell,  and  the  strings  of  Daphnes  haire,  thy  tunes  might 
haue  beene  compared  to  my  noates :  for  then  Daphne  would  haue  15 
added  to  thy  stroake  sweetnes,  &  to  thy  thoughts  melodic. 

Apollo.  Doth  Pan  talke  of  the  passions  of  loue?  of  the  passions 
of  deuine  loue?  O,  how  that  word  Daphne  wounds  Apollo^  pro- 
nounced by  the  barbrous  mouth  of  Pan.  I  feare  his  breath  will 
blaste  the  faire  Greene,  if  I  dazel  not  his  eyes,  that  he  may  not  20 
behold  it.  Thy  pipe  a  Nimph?  some  hag  rather,  banting  these 
shady  groues,  and  desiring  not  thy  loue,  but  the  fellowship  of  such 
a  monster.  What  God  is  Pan  but  the  god  of  beastes,  of  woods,  and 
hilles  ?  excluded  from  heauen,  and  in  earth  not  honoured.  Breake 
/  thy  pipe,  or  with  my  sweet  lute  will  I  breake  thy  heart.  Let  not  25 
^^  loue  enter  into  those  sauage  lips,  a  word  for  loue,  for  Apollo,  for 
the  heauenlie  gods,  whose  thoughts  are  gods,  &  Gods  are  all  loue. 

Pan.  Apollo,  I  tolde  thee  before  that  Pan  was  a  God,  I  tell 
thee  now  againe,  as  great  a  god  as  Apollo,  I  had  almost  said  a 
greater :  and  because  thou  shalt  know  I  care  not  to  tel  my  thoghts,  30 
I  say  a  greater.  Pan  feeles  the  passions  of  loue  deeply  engrauen  in 
his  heart,  with  as  faire  Nimphs,  with  as  great  fortune,  as  Apollo,  as 
Neptune,  as  loue ;  and  better  than  Pah  can  none  describe  loue. 
Not  Apollo,  not  Neptune,  not  loue  I  My  Temple  is  in  Arcadie, 
where  they  bume  continuall  flames  to  Pan.  In  Arcadie  is  mine  35 
Oracle,  where  Erato  the  Nymphe  geeueth  aunsweres  for  Pan.  In 
Arcadie  the  place  of  Loue,  is  the  honour  of  Pan,  I  but  I  am 
God  of  hilles.  So  I  am,  Apollo  I  and  that  of  Hilles  so  high,  as 
I  can  prie  into  the  iugling  of  the  highest  Gods.  Of  woods !  So 
I  am  Apollo  I  of  woods  so  thicke,  that  thou  with  thy  beames  canst  40 
not  pierce  them.  I  knew  Apolloes  prying,  I  knewe  mine  owne 
iealouzie.  Sunne  and  shadow  cousen  one  another.  Be  thou  Sun 
still,  the  shadow  is  fast  at  thy  heeles  Apollo.  I  as  neere  to  thy 
loue,  as  thou  to  mine.    A  Carter  with  his  whistle  &  his  whip  in 

7  shake  om,  Bl.  31  haunting  Dil.  41  Apollo  Dil.  43  I]  Ah, 

DiL  perk,  by  misprint  for  Ay, 


sc.  i]  MIDAS  t4X 

45  true  eare^  mooues  as  much  as  Fhcsbus  with  his  fierie  chariot,  and 
winged  horses.     Loue-leaues  are  as  wel  for  countrie  porridge,  as 
heauenly  nectar,    Loue  made  Jupiter  a  goose,  and  Neptune  a  swine,       V  ".  -    '-j 
and  both  for  loue  of  an  earthlie  mistresse.    What  hath  made  Pan^ 
or  any  God  on  earth  (for  gods  on  earth  can  change  their  shapes) 

50  tume  themselues  for  an  heauenly  Goddesse  ?  Beleeue  me  Apollo^ 
our  groues  are  pleasanter  than  your  heauens,  our  Milk-maides  than 
your  Goddesses,  our  rude  ditties  to  a  pipe  than  your  sonnets  to  a 
lute.  Heere  is  flat  faith  amo  amas;  where  you  crie,  6  vtinam  ama- 
rent  vel  non  amassem.    I  let  passe  (Apoilo)  thy  hard  words,  as 

55  calling  Fan  monster ;  which  is  as  much,  as  to  call  all  monsters : 
for  Fan  is  all,  Apolio  but  one.  But  touch  thy  strings,  and  let  these 
Nymphs  decyde. 

Apollo,  Those  Nymphes  shall  decide,  vnlesse  thy  rude  speach  haue 
made  them  deafe :  as  for  anie  other  aunswere  to  Fan^  take  this,  that 

60  it  becommeth  not  Apollo  to  aunswere  Fan.  Fan  is  all,  and  all  is 
Fan;  thou  art  Fan  and  all,  all  Fan  and  tinkerly.  But  to  this 
mtisick,  wherin  all  thy  shame  shall  be  scene,  and  all  my  skill. 

Enter  Mydas. 

Mid.  In  the  chase,  I  lost  all  my  companie,  and  missed  the  game 
toa    I  thinke  Mydas  shall  in  all  things  be  vnfortunate. 
65      Apollo.  What  is  he  that  talketh  ? 

Mid,  Mydas  the  vnfortunate  King  of  Phrygia. 
Apollo.  To  be  a  King  is  next  being  to  a  God.    Thy  fortune  is  not 
bad:  what  is  thy  follie? 
Mid.  To  abuse  a  God. 
70     Apollo,  An  vngratefuU  part  of  a  King.    But,  Mydas^  seeing  by 
chaunce  thou  art  come,  or  sent  by  some  God  of  purpose ;  none  can 
in  the  earth  better  iudge  of  Gods,  than  Kings.    Sit  downe  with  these 
Nymphes.     I  am  Apollo^  this  Fan^  both  Gods.    We  contend  for 
souereigntie  in  Musicke.     Seeing  it  happens  in  earth,  we  must  be 
75  iudged  of  those  on  earth ;  in  which  there  are  none  more  worthie 
than  Kings  and  Nymphes.    Therefore  giue  eare,  that  thy  iudgement 
erre  not 

Mid.   If  Gods  you  be,  althogh  I  dare  wish  nothing  of  Gods,  being 
so  deeply  wounded  with  wishing;  yet  let  my  iudgement  preuaile 
80  before  these  Nymphes,  if  we  agree  not,  because  I  am  a  King. 

45  ears  Dil.  47  goose]  swan  Dtl.  58  Those]  These  F.  67 

being  to  oideds. :  to  being  Dil.  F.  75  there]  they  F. 


142  MIDAS  [act  IV 

Pan,  There  must  be  no  condition,  but  iudge  Afydas^  and  iudge  ' 
Nymphes, 
Apollo.  Then  thus  I  begin  both  my  song  and  my  play. 

A  SONG  of  Daphne  to  the  Lute. 

Apollo.    TVTY  Daphne's  Haire  is  twisted  Gold, 

Bright  starres  a-piece  her  Eyes  doe  hold,  S5 

My  Daphnes  Brow  inthrones  the  Graces, 
My  Daphne* s  Beauty  staines  all  Faces, 
On  Daphnes  Cheeke  grow  Rose  and  Cherry, 
On  Daphnes  Lip  a  sweeter  Berry, 

Daphnes  snowy  Hand  but  touch*d  does  melt,  9Q 

And  then  no  heauenlier  Warmth  is  felt, 
My  Daphnes  voice  tunes  all  the  Spheres, 
My  Daphnes  Musick  charmes  all  Eares, 
Fond  am  I  thus  to  sing  her  prayse; 
These  glories  now  are  turned  to  Bayes.  9$ 

Jtympk  Erato.    O  diuine  Apollo^  6  sweete  consent ! 

Tha.  If  the  God  of  Musicke  should  not  be  aboue  our  reach,  who 
should  ? 

Mid.   I  like  it  not. 

Pan.  Now  let  roe  tune  my  pipes.    I  cannot  pipe  &  sing,  thats  the  100 
ods  in  the  instrument,  not  the  art :  but  I  will  pipe  and  then  sing ; 
and  then  iudge  both  of  the  art  and  instrument. 

•    If e  pipes f  and  then  sings. 

Song. 

Pan.    pAn^s  Syrinx  was  a  Girle  indeed, 

Though  now  shee's  tum*d  into  a  Reed, 
From  that  deare  Reed  Pafis  Pipe  does  come,  105 

A  Pipe  that  strikes  Apollo  dumbe; 
Nor  Flute,  nor  Lute,  nor  Gitteme  can 
So  chant  it,  as  the  Pipe  of  Pan; 
Cross-gartred  Swaines,  &  Dairie  girles. 
With  faces  smug,  and  round  as  Pearles,  no 

When  Pans  shrill  Pipe  begins. to  play. 
With  dancing  weare  out  Night  and  Day: 
The  Bag-pipes  Drone  his  Hum  layes  by. 
When  Pan  sounds  vp  his  Minstrelsie, 

s.  D.  A  song  •  •  •  Lute  to  Q,  btU  vfitkout  giving  th$  words,  which  first  appear  in 
Bl.  00  Daphne's  snowy]  My  Daphne's  DiL  metr.  gra.  97  Tha.  JHl, : 

ThU  QBi.  F^  S.  D.  He  pipes,  and  then  sings  so  Q  Bl.  but  Blfnmt  first  gives 

the  words  * 


sci]  MIDAS  143 

115  His  Minstrelsie!    O  Base!    This  Quill 

Which  at  my  mouth  with  winde  I  fill, 
Puts  me  in  minde,  though  Her  I  misse. 
That  still  my  Syrinx  lips  I  kisse. 

.    Apollo.  Hast  thou  done  Pan  t 
1 30     Pan.   I,  and  done  well,  as  I  thinke, 
.    Apollo,.  Now  Nymphes,  what  say  you? 

Erato.  Wee   all    say  that  Apollo  hath  shewed  himselfe  both 

a. God,  and  of  musicke  the  God;  Pan  himselfe  a  rude  Satyre, 

neither  keeping  measure,  nor  time ;  his  piping  as  farre  out  of  tune, 

X35  as  his  bodie  out  of  forme.     To  thee  diuine  Apollo^  wee  giue  the 

prize  and  reuerence. 

Apollo.  But  what  saies  Mydas  f 

Mid.   Mee  thinkes  theres  more  sweetnesse  in  the  pipe  of  Pan^  than 

Apolloes  lute ;  I  brooke  not  that  nice  tickling  of  strings,  that  contents 

X30  mee  that  makes  one  start.    Wbat  a  shrilnes  came  into  mine  eares 

out  of  that  pipe,  and  what  a  goodly  noise  it  made !    Apollo^  I  must 

needes  iudge  that  Pan  deserueth  most  praise. 

Pan.  Blessed  be  Mydas^  worthie  to  be  a  Cod :  these  girles,  whose 
eares  doo  but  itch  with  daintines,  geue  the  verdit  without  weying  the 
X35  virtue ;  they  haue  been  brought  vp  in  chambers  with  soft  musicke, 
not  where  I  make  the  woods  ring  with  my  pipe,  Mydas. 

Apollo.  Wretched,  vnworthie  to  bee  a  King,  thou  shalt  know  what 
it  is  to  displease  Apollo.    I  will  leaue  thee  but  the  two  last  letters 
of  thy  name,  to  be  thy  whole  name ;  which  if  thou  canst  not  gesse, 
140  touch  thine  eares,  they  shall  tell  thee. 

Mid.  What  hast  thou  done  Apollo  f  the  eares  of  an  Asse  vpon  the 
head  of  a  King  ? 

Apollo.  And  well  worthier  when  the  dulnes  of  an  asse  is  in  the 
eares  of  a  King. 
X45     Mid.  Helpe  Pan  I  or  Mydas  perisheth. 

Pan.  I  cannot  vndoo  what  Apollo  hath  done,  nor  giue  thee  anie 
amends,  vnlesse  to  those  eares  thou  wilt  haue  added  these  homes. 

1  Nymph.  It  were  verie  well,  that  it  might  bee  hard  to  iudge 
whether  he  were  more  Ox  or  Asse. 

J 50      Apollo,   Farewell  i!^//aj.  {Exit.) 

Pan.  Mydas  farewell.  {Exit} 

2  Nymph.  I  warrant  they  bee  daintie  eares,  nothing  can  pleas^ 
them  but  Pans  pipe. 

134  gene  Q :  giue  Bl.  F. :  gave  Dil^ 


144  MIDAS  [act  iv 

Erato.  He  hath  the  aduantage  of  all  eares,  except  the  mouse ; 
for  els  theres  none  so  sharpe  of  hearing,  as  the  Asse.     Farewell  155 
Mydas, 

2  Nymph.  Mydas  farewell. 

3  Nymph.  Farewell  Mydas.  Exeunt  < Erato  and  Nymphs). 
Mid.  Ah  Mydas^  why  was  not  thy  whole  bodie  metamorphosed, 

that  there  might  haue  been  no  parte  left  of  Mydas  t    Where  shall  160 
I  shrowd  this  shame?  or  how  may  I  bee  restored  to  mine  olde 
shape  ?    Apollo  is  angrie :  blame  not  Apollo^  whom  being  God  of 
musick  thou  didst  both  dislike  and  dishonour ;  preferring  the  bar* 
barous  noyse  of  Pans  pipe,  before  the  sweete  melodie  of  ApoUoes 
lute.    If  I  retume  to  Phrygia,  I  shall  bee  pointed  at ;   if  Hue  in  i<^5 
these  woods,  sauage  beasts  must  be  my  cOpanions :  &  what  other 
companions  should  Mydas  hope  for  than  beasts,  being  of  all  beasts 
himselfe  the  dullest?    Had  it  not  bin  better  for  thee  to  haue 
perished  by  a  golden  death,  than  now  to  lead  a  beastly  life?    Vn- 
fortunat  in  thy  wish,  vnwise  in  thy  iudgmSt ;  first  a  golden  foole,  170 
now  a  leaden  asse.    What  wil  they  say  in  Lesbos  (if  happely  these 
newes  come  to  Lesbos)  ?    If  they  come  Mydas  1  yes,  report  flies  as 
swift  as  thoghts,  gathering  wings  in  the  aire,  &  dubling  rumors  by 
her  owne  rutming,  insomuch  as  hauing  here  the  eares  of  an  asse, 
it  wil  there  be  told,  all  my  haires  are  asses  eares.    Then  will  this  bee  175 
the  by-word ;  Is  Mydas  that  sought  to  bee  Monarch  of  the  world, 
become  the  mock  of  the  world?  are  his  gold^^  mynes  tumd  into 
water,  as  free  for  euery  one  that  wil  fetch,  as  for  himself,  that 
possessed  th{^  by  wish?     Ah  poore  Mydas!   are  his  conceipts 
become  blockish,  his  counsells  vnfortunate,  his  iudgements  vnskil-  i8a 
full  ?    Ah  foolish  Mydas  !  a  iust  reward,  for  thy  pride  to  wexe  poore, 
for  thy  ouerweening  to  wexe  dull,  for  thy  ambition  to  wexe  humble, 
for  thy  crueltie  to  say,  Sis^  miser  semper^  nee  sis  miserabiUs  vlU^ 
But  I  must  seeke  to  couer  my  shame  by  arte,  least  beeing  once 
discouered  to  these  pettie  Kings  of  Mysia,  Pisidia  and  Galatia,  they  185 
all  ioyne  to  adde  to  mine  Asses  eares,  of  all  the  beasts  the  dullest, 
a  sheepes  heart,  of  all  the  beasts  the  fearfullest :  and  so  cast  lots  for 
those  Kingdomes,  that  I  haue  won  with  so  manie  Hues,  &  kept  with 
so  manie  enuies.  Exit. 

164  melolodie  Q  165  I  before  Hue  Dil,  F.  171  happily  Bl.  F. : 

haply  Dil.  these]  this  DU. 


sen]  MIDAS  145 

ScJE,  2. — {A  reedy  place,) 

Enter  5,  shepheards ;   Menalcas,  Coryn,  Celthus, 

Driapon,  Amyntas. 

Idenal.    T  Muse  what  the  Nymphs  ment,  that  so  sang  in  the  groues, 
X     Mydas  of  Phrygia  hath  Asses  eares. 
Cor,   I  maruel  not,  for  one  of  them  plainly  told  me  he  had  Asses 


5  CeL  I,  but  it  is  not  safe  to  say  it :  he  is  a  great  King,  &  his  hands 
are  longer  than  his  eares:  therefore  for  vs  that  keep  sheepe,  it  is 
wisedome  enough  to  tell  sheepe. 

Drya.  Tis  true,  yet  since  Mydas  grew  so  mischeuous,  as  to  blurre 
his  diademe  with  blood,  which  should  glister  with  nothing  but  pittie ; 

10  and  so  miserable,  that  hee  made  gold  his  god,  that  was  framde 
to  be  his  slaue,  manie  broad  speeches  haue  flowen  abroad :  in  his 
owne  Countrey  they  sticke  not  to  call  him  T3rrant,  and  else  where 
vsurper.  They  flatly  say,  that  he  eateth  into  other  dominions,  as  the 
sea  doth  into  the  land,  not  knowing,  that  in  swallowing  a  poore  Iland 

15  as  big  as  Lesbos,  he  may  cast  vp  three  territories  thrice  as  big  as 
Phrygia :  for  what  the  sea  winneth  in  the  marshe,  it  looseth  in  the 
sand. 

Amynt,  Take  me  with  you,  but  speak  softlie,  for  these  reedes  may 
haue  eares,  and  heare  vs. 

30  MenaL  Suppose  they  haue,  yet  they  may  be  without  tongues,  to 
bewray  vs. 

Cor.  Nay,  let  them  haue  tongues  too,  wee  haue  eyes  to  see  that 
they  haue  none,  and  therfore  if  they  heare,  &  speak,  they  know  not 
from  whence  it  comes. 

35      Amynt,  Well,  then  this  I  say,  when  a  Lion  doeth  so  much         . 
degenerat  from  Princely  kind,  that  he  wil   borow  of  the  beasts, 
I  say  he  is  no  Lion,  but  a  monster;  peec'd  with  the  craflines  of 
the  fox,  the  crueltie  of  the  tyger,  the  rauening  of  the  woolfe,  the 
dissembling  of  Hyena,  he  is  worthie  also  to  haue  the  eares  of  an 

30  asse. 

MenaL   He  seekes  to  conquere  Lesbos,  and  like  a  foolish  game-  ^^ 
ster,  hauing  a  bagful!  of  his  owne,  ventures  it  all  to  winne  a  groat 
of  another. 

Cor,   Hee  that  fishes  for  Lesbos,  muste  haue  such  a  woodden  net, 

s.  D.  Draipon  Bl,  37  craftinesses  F,  29  the  before  Hyena  DU,  F.  {see 

note) 

BO!(D   III  I« 


; 


146  MIDAS  [act  iv 

as  all  the  trees  in  Phrygia  wil  not  senie  to  make  the  cod,  nor  all  the  35 
woods  in  Pisidia  prouide  the  corks. 

Drya.  Nay,  he  meanes  to  angle  for  it  with  an  hook  of  gold  and 
a  bait  of  gold,  and  so  to  strike  the  fish  with  a  pleasing  bait,  that  wil 
slide  out  of  an  open  net. 

Amy  fit  Tush  !  tush !  those  Ilanders  are  too  subtil  to  nibble  at  40 
craft,  and  too  riche  to  swallowe  treasure :  if  that  be  his  hope,  he 
may  as  wel  diue  to  the  bottome  of  the  sea,  and  bring  vp  an  Anchor 
of  a  thousand  weight,  as  plod  with  his  gold  to  corrupt  a  people  so 
wise.  And  besides,  a  Nation  (as  I  haue  heard)  so  valiant,  that  are 
redier  to  strike  than  ward.  45 

Cd.  More  than  al  this  Amintas  (though  we  dare  not  so  much  as 
mutter  it),  their  king  is  such  a  one  as  dazeleth  the  cleerest  eyes  with 
Maiestie,  daunteth  the  valiantest  hearts  with  courage,  and  for  vertue 
filleth  all  the  world  with  wonder.  If  beautie  goe  beyond  sight, 
confidence  aboue  valour,  and  vertue  exceed  miracle,  what  is  it  to  50 
be  thought,  but  that  Mydas  goeth  to  vndermine  that  by  the  sim- 
plicitie  of  man,  that  is  fastened  to  a  rock,  by  the  prouidence  of 
the  gods. 

MencU.  We  poore  commons  (who  tasting  warre,  are  made  to 
rellish  nothing  but  taxes)  can  do  nothing  but  grieue,  to  see  things  55 
vnlawfiil  practised,  to  obtein  things  impossible.    All  his  mines  doe 
but  glide  his  combe,  to  make  it  glister  in  the  warres,  and  cut  oures 
that  are  forced  to  follow  him  in  his  warres. 

Car,  Well,  that   must  be  borne,   not  blam'd,  that  cannot  be 
changed :  for  my  part,  if  I  may  enioy  the  fleece  of  my  sillie  flock  6o 
with  quietnes,  I  will  neuer  care  three  flocks  for  his  ambition. 

Menal,  Let  this  suffice,  we  may  talke  too  much,  and  being  ouer- 
heard,  be  all  vndone.  I  am  so  iealous,  that  me  thinks  the  very 
reedes  bow  downe,  as  though  they  listned  to  our  talke :  and  soft ! 
I  heare  some  comming,  let  vs  in,  and  meet  at  a  place  more  meet.       65 

Exeunt. 

SCiE,  3. — (^Th€  same,) 

(^Enter)  Licio,  Petulus,  Minutius,  Huntsman. 

Lido.    T  S  not  hunting  a  tedious  occupation  ? 

X     -Pd.  I  and  troublesome,  for  if  you  call  a  dog  a  dog,  yoa 
are  vndone. 

43  plod  so  all 


sc  ni]  MIDAS  147 

Hunts.  You  be  both  fooles !  and  besides,  base-minded :  hunting 

5  is  for  kings,  not  peasants.    Such  as  you  are  vnworthie  to  be  hounds, 

much  lesse  huntsmen,  that  know  not  when  a  hound  is  fleet,  faire 

flewde,  and  well  hangd,  being  ignorant  of  the  deepenesse  of  a 

houndes  mouth,  and  the  sweetnes. 

Min.  Why  I  hope  sir  a  curres  mouth  is  no  deeper  than  the  sea, 
10  nor  sweeter  than  a  hony  combe. 

Hunts,  Prettie  cockscombe  I  a  hound  wil  swalow  thee  as-  easilie, 
as  a  great  pit  a  small  pibble. 

Min^  Indeed  hunting  were  a  pleasant  sport,  but  the  dogges  make 
such  barking,  that  one  cannot  heare  the  hounds  crie. 
15      Hunts.   He  make  thee  crie  I    If  I  catch  thee  in  the  forest  thou 
shalt  be  leasht. 
Min.  Whatsthat? 

Udo,   Doest  thou  not  vnderstand  their  language  ? 
Min.  Not  I! 
20     Pet.   Tis  the  best  Calamance  in  the  world;  as  easilie  deciphered^ 
as  the  characters  in  a  nutmeg. 
Min.   I  pray  thee  speake  some. 
Pet.   I  will. 

Hunts.  But  speake  in  order  or  He  pay  you« 
35      Lido.  To  it  Petulus. 

Pet.  There  was  a  boy  leasht  on  the  single,  because  when  he  was 
imbost,  he  tooke  soyle. 
JJdo.  Whatsthat? 

Pet.   Why,  a  boy  was  beaten  on  the  taile  with  a  leathern  thong, 
30  bicause  when  he  fomde  at  the  mouth  with  running,  he  went  into 
the  water. 

Hunts.  This  is  worse  than  fustian !  mumme !  you  were  best ! 
Hunting  is  an  honorable  pastime,  and  for  my  part  I  had  as  leife  hunt 
a  deere  in  a  parke,  as  court  a  Ladie  in  a  chamber. 
35  Min.  Geue  meea  pastie  foraParke,and  letmeeshakeoflfawhole 
kennel  of  teeth  for  hounds,  then  shalt  thou  see  a  notable  champing, 
after  that  will  I  carouse  a  bouleof  wine,  and  so  in  the  stomack  let  the 
Venison  take  soyle. 

Lido.   He  hath  laid  the  plot  to  be  prudent :  why  tis  pastie  crust, 
40  eat  enough  and  it  will  make  you  wise,  an  olde  prouerb. 

16,  36  Iflshte  Bl.  F.        28  Licio]  Min.  F.        3a  This  is  . . .  fnsdan  f  assigned 
withcnt  authority  or  comment  as  separate  speech  to  Minutius  F.  39  prndent ; 

DiL :  prudent,  Q  Bl.  F.  40  eat .  .  .  wise]  in  inverted  commas  I*.    More 

(orrectiy  *  why  . . ,  wise* 

L  a 


>^ 


r48  MIDAS*  [activ^ 

Pet,  I,  and  eloquent,  for  you  must  tipple  wine  freely,  6*  fcuundi 
caUces  quem  nonfrcere  disertutn  1 

Hunts,  Fecere  dizardum!    Leaue  off  these  toyes,  and  let  vs  seek 
out  Mydas^  whom  we  lost  in  the  chase. 

Fet,  He  warrant  hee  hath  by  this  started  a  couey  of  Bucks,  or  45 
roused  a  scull  of  Phesants. 

Hunts,   Treason  to  two  braue  sports,  hauking  &  hunting,  thou 
shouldest  say,  start  a  hare,  rowse  the  deere,  spring  the  partridge. 

Fet.  He  warrant  that  was  deuised  by  some  Country  swad,  that 
seeing  a  hare  skip  vp,  which  made  him  start,  he  presently  said,  he  50 
started  the  hare. 

Ucio.   I,  and  some  lubber  lying  besides  a  spring,  &  seeing  a  part- 
ridge come  by,  said  he  did  spring  the  partridge. 

Hunts,   Well,  remember  all  this  1 

Fet,   Remember  all?  nay  then  had  we  good  memories,  for  there  55 
be  more  phrases  than  thou  hast  haires !  but  let  me  see,  I  pray  thee 
whats  this  about  thy  neck  ? 

Hunts,   A  bugle. 

Fet,   If  it  had  stoode  on  thy  head  I  should  haue  called  it  a  home. 
Wei,  tis  hard  to  haue  ones  browes  imbroidered  with  bugle.  6o 

Ucio.   But  canst  thou  blowe  it  ? 

Hunts.  What  els? 

Min.   But  not  away. 

Fet,  No,  twil  make  Boreas  out  of  breath,  to  blow  his  homes 
away.  65 

Ltcio,  There  was   good  blowing   He  warrant  before  they  came 
there. 

Fet,  Well,  tis  a  shrowd  blow. 

Hunts.   Spare  your  windes  in  this,  or  He  winde  your  neckes  in 
a  cord :  but  soft,  I  heard  my  masters  blaste.  70 

Min,   Some  haue  felt  it  I 

Hunts,  Thy  mother,  when  such  a  flyblow  was  buzd  out!    but 
I  must  be  gone,  I  perceiue  Mydas  is  come.  Exit. 

Lido.   Then  let  not  vs  tarrie,  for  now  shal  we  shaue  the  Barbars 
house.    The  world  will  grow  full  of  wyles  seeing  Mydas  hath  lost  his  75 
golden  wish. 

Min.   I  care  not,  my  head  shall  dig  deuises,  and  my  tongue  stampe 
them ;  so  as  my  mouth  shall  be  a  mynt,  and  my  braynes  a  myne. 


56  haires  so  all 


68  shrewd  DiL 


sc.  hi]  MIDAS  149 

Lido.  Then  help  vs  to  cousen  the  Barbar. 
80      Mitu   The  Barbar  shal  know  euerie  haire  of  my  chin  to  be  as  good 
as  a  choakpeare  for  his  purse.  (^Exeunt) 


SCiENA  4. — {The  same jy 

*  {Enter)  Mellacrites.     Martius.     Eristus. 

Erist.  T   Maruell  what  MydcLS  meaneth  to  bee  so  melancholy  since 

X     his  hunting. 

MeL   It  is  a  good  word  in  Mydas,  otherwise  I  should  tearme  it  in 

another  blockishnes.    I  cannot  tell  whether  it  bee  a  sowernesse 

5  commonly  incident  to  age,  or  a  seuerenesse  perticular  to  the  Kings 

of  Phrygia,  or  a  suspition  cleaning  to  great  Estates ;  but  mee  thinkes 

he  seemeth  so  iealous  of  vs  al,  and  becomes  so  ouerthwart  to  all 

others,  that  either  I  must  coniecture  his  wits  are  not  his  owne,  or  his 

meaning  verie  hard  to  some. 

10  Mar.  For  my  part,  I  neither  care  nor  wonder,  I  see  all  his 
expeditions  for  warres  are  laid  in  water :  for  now  when  he  should 
execute,  he  begins  to  consult ;  and  suffers  the  enemies  to  bid  vs  good 
morrowe  at  our  owne  doores,  to  whom  wee  long  since  might  haue 
giuen  the  last  Good  night  in  their  owne  beds.     Hee  weareth  (I  know 

15  not  whether  for  warmth  or  wantonnes)  a  great  Tyara  on  his  head, 

as  though  his  head  were  not  heauie  enough,  vnlesse  hee  loaded  it     /  ^;  < 
with  great  rolles :  an  attyre  neuer  vsed  (that  I  could  heare  of)  but  of     ^        >' 
old  women,  or  pelting  priestes.     This  will  make  Pisidia  wanton, 
Lycaonia  stiffe,  all   his  Territories  wauering;   and  hee  that  hath 

ao  coutcht  so  manie  Kingdomes  in  one  Crowne,  wil  haue  his  Kingdome 
scattered  into  as  manie  Crownes  as  hee  possesseth  Countries.  I  will 
rouse  him  vp,  and  if  his  eares  be  not  Asses  eares,  I  will  make  them 
tingle.  I  respect  not  my  life,  I  knowe  it  is  my  duetie,  and  certainly 
I  dare  sweare  Warre  is  my  profession. 

35  Erist  Martius^  we  will  all  ioyne :  and  though  I  haue  been  (as 
in  Phrygia  they  tearme)  a  braue  Courtier,  that  is,  (as  they  expound 
it)  a  fine  Louer ;  yet  will  I  set  both  aside,  Loue  and  Courting,  and 
followe  Martius:  for  neuer  shall  it  bee  sayd,  Bella  gerant  alij,  semper 
Eristus  amet. 

30      MeL   And  I  {Martius)  that  honored  gold  for  a  god,  and  accounted 

30  coucht  Bl,  F, :  coutcbed  Dil.  Kingdome]  Kingdomct  Bl.  F. 


ISO  MIDAS  [ACTtv 

all  other  gods  but  lead,  wil  follow  Martius^  and  say ;  Villus  argentum 
est  auro^  vlrtuHbus  aurum. 

Mar.  My  Lords,  I  giue  you  thankes,  and  am  glad :  for  there  are 
no  stouter  soldiers  in  the  world,  than  those  that  are  made  of  louers, 
nor  anie  more  liberall  in  wars^  than  they  that  in  peace  haue  beene  35 
couetous.  Then  doubt  not,  if  courage  and  coyne  can  preuaile,  but 
wee  shall  preuaile;  &  besides,  nothing  can  preuaile  but  fortune. 
But  here  comes  Sophronlay  I  wil  first  talk  with  her. 

Enter  Sophronia,  Camilia,  Amerula. 

Madame,  either  our  King  hath  no  eares  to  heare,  or  no  care  to 
consider,  both  in  what  state  we  stand  beeing  his  subiects^  and  what  4^ 
danger  he  is  in  being  our  King.    Dutie  is  not  regarded,  courage 
contemned ;  altogether  careles  of  vs,  and  his  owne  safetie. 

Soph*  MartluSy  I  mislike  not  thy  plaine  dealing :  but  pittie  my 
Fathers  traunce;  a  traunce  I  must  call  that,  where  nature  cannot 
moue,  nor  counsaile,  nor  musick,  nor  phisicke,  nor  daunger,  nor  death,  45 
nor  all.  But  that  which  maketh  me  most  both  to  sorrow  and  wonder, 
is  that  musick  (a  methridat  for  melancholy)  should  make  him  mad ; 
crying  still,  Una  nam^  modo  Pan  <^  Apollo  nocent.  None  hath 
accesse  to  him  but  Motto^  as  thogh  melancholy  were  to  be  shau'n 
with  a  razor,  not  cur'd  with  a  medicin.  But  stay,  what  noise  is  this  50 
in  those  reedes  ? 

MeL  What  sound  is  this  ?  who  dares  vtter  that  he  heares  ? 

Soph.   I  dare  Mellacritesy  the  words  are  plaine, — Mydas  the  King 
hath  asses  eares. 

Cam.  This  is  strange,  and  yet  to  be  told  the  King.  55 

Soph.   So  dare  I  Camilla:  for  it  concemeth  me  in  dutie,  &  vs  all 
in  discretion.     But  soft,  let  vs  hearken  better. 

The  Reedes.  Mydas  of  Phrygia  hath  asses  eares. 

Erist.  This  is  monstrous,  &  either  portends  some  mischiefe  to 
the  king,  or  vnto  the  state  confusion.  Mydas  of  Phrygia  hath  asses  60 
«ars  ?  It  is  vnpossible  let  vs  with  speed  to  the  king  to  know  his 
resolutiO,  for  to  some  oracle  he  must  send.  Til  his  maiesty  be 
acquainted  with  this  matter,  wee  dare  not  roote  out  the  reedes ; 
himselfe  must  both  heare  the  sound,  and  gesse  at  the  reason. 

Soph.  Vnfortunate  MydaSy  that  beeing  so  great  a  king,   there  65 
should  out  of  the  earth  spring  so  great  a  shame. 

Mar,   It  may  bee  that  his  wishing  for  golde,  being  but  drosse  of 
the  world,  is  by  all  the  Gods  accounted  foolish,  and  so  discouered 


saiv]  AlIDAS  151 

out  of  the  earth :  for  a  King  to  thirst  for  golde  in  steede  of  honour, 
70  to  preferre  heapes  of  worldly  coyne  before  triumphes  in  warlike 
Conquests,  was  in  my  minde  no  Princely  minde. 

MeL  Let  vs  not  debate  the  cause,  but  seeke  to  preuent  the  snares ; 
for  in  my  minde  it  foretelleth  that  which  woundeth  my  minde.  Let 
vs  in.  Exeunt. 


ACTUS  5. 

SCENA  L — (^The  reedy  piace.y 

{Enter)  Mydas.    Sophronia.    MellicRates.    Martius. 

Mid.  O  Ophronia^  thou  seest  I  am  become  a  shame  to  the  world 
O  and  a  wonder.  Mine  eares  glowe.  Mine  eares?  Ah 
miserable  Mydas  I  to  haue  such  eares  as  make  thy  cheekes  blush, 
thy  head  monstrous,  and  thy  hart  desperate  ?  Yet  in  blushing  I  am 
5  impudent,  for  I  walke  in  the  streetes ;  in  deformitie  I  seeme  comely,  Co  <- 
for  I  haue  left  off  my  Tyara ;  and  my  heart  the  more  heauie  it  is  for 
griefe,  the  more  hope  it  concelueth  of  recouerie. 

Soph.   Dread  Soueraigne  and  louing  Syre,  there  are  nine  dayes 

past,  and  therefore  the  wonder  is  past ;  there  are  manie  yeares  to 

10  come,  and  therefore  a  remedie  to  bee  hoped  for.    Though  your 

eares  be  long,  yet  is  there  roome  left  on  your  head  for  a  diademe :  ^  ^.  .. 
thogh  they  resemble  the  eares  of  the  dullest  beast,  yet  should  they  ->  J  -> 
not  daunt  the  spirit  of  so  great  a  King.  The  Gods  dally  with  men, 
kings  are  no  more :  they  disgrace  kings,  lest  they  shuld  be  thpght 
15  gods:  sacrifice  pleaseth  them,  so  that  if  you  know  by  the  Oracle 
what  God  wrought  it,  you  shall  by  humble  submission,  by  that  God 
be  released. 

Mid.  Sophronia^  I  commend  thy  care  and  courage,  but  let  me 
heare  these  reedes,  that  these  lothsome  eares  may  be  glutted  with 
ao  the  report,  and  that  is  as  good  as  a  remedie. 

The  reedes.  Mydas  of  Phrygia  hath  asses  eares. 

Mid.   Mydas  of  Phrygia  hath  asses  eares  ?    So  he  hath,  vnhappie 

Mydas.     If  these  reedes  sing  my  shame  so  lowde,  wil  men  whisper 

it  softly  ?    No,  all  the  world  alreadie  rings  of  it :  and  as  impossible 

25  it  is  to  staye  the  rumor,  as  to  catch  the  wind  in  a  nette  that  bloweth 

in  the  aier;  or  to  stop  the  wind  of  al  mens  mouths  that  breathe  out 

73  my*  om.  Bl.  F. 


IS  a  MIDAS  [act  v 

aier.  t  will  to  ApollOy  whose  Oracle  must  be  my  doome,  and  I  fear 
me,  my  dishonor,  because  my  doom  was  his,  if  kings  may  disgrace 
gods :  and  gods  they  disgrace,  when  they  forget  their  dueties. 

MeL  What  saith  Mydas  t  30 

Mid.  Nothing,  but  that  ApoUo  must  determine  al,  or  Mydas  see 
ruine  of  al.  To  Apollo  wil  I  offer  an  luory  lute  for  his  sweet 
harmonie,  and  berries  of  baies  as  blacke  as  ieat,  for  his  loue 
Daphne^  pure  simples  for  his  physicke,  and  continuall  incense  for  his 
prophecying.  35 

Mar,  Apollo  may  discouer  some  odde  riddle,  but  not  geue  the 
redresse;  for  yet  did  I  neuer  heare  that  his  oracles  were  without 
doubtfulnes,  nor  his  remedies  without  impossibilities.  This  super- 
stition of  yours  is  able  to  bring  errors  among  the  common  sort, 
not  ease  to  your  discontented  mind.  ^o 

Mid.  Dost  thou  not  know  Martins,  that  when  Bacchus  com- 
maunded  mee  to  bathe  my  selfe  in  Pactolus,  thou  thoughtedst  it 
a  meere  mockerie,  before  with  thine  eyes  thou  sawest  the  remedie. 

Mar.  I,  Bacchus  gaue  the  wish,  and  therefore  was  like  also  to 
geue  the  remedie.  45 

Mid.  And  who  knowes  whether  Apollo  gaue  me  these  eares, 
and  therefore  may  release  the  punishment?  Wei,  replie  not,  for 
I  wil  to  Delphos :  in  the  meane  time  let  it  be  proclaimed,  that  if 
there  be  any  so  cunning,  that  can  tell  the  reason  of  these  reedes 
creaking,  he  shal  haue  my  daughter  to  his  wife,  or  if  she  refuse  it,  50 
a  Dukedome  for  his  paines :  and  withal,  that  whosoeuer  is  so  bolde 
as  to  say  that  Mydas  hath  asses  eares,  shal  presently  lose  his. 

Soph.  Deare  father  then  go  forwards,  prepare  for  the  sacrifice, 
and  dispose  of  Sophronia  as  it  beste  pleaseth  you. 

Mid.  Come  let  vs  in.  Exeunt.  55 

SCiENA  2. — (^Gardens  before  the  Palace!) 

{Enter)  Licio.     Petulus. 

Pet.  \7[/Hat  a  rascall  was  Motto  to  cosen  vs,  and  say  there 
V  V      were  thirtie  men  in  a  roome  that  would  vndoe  vs, 
and  when  all  came  to  all,  they  were  but  table-men. 

ZJcio.    I,  and  then  to  geeue  vs  an  inuentorie  of  all  his  goods, 
only  to  redeeme  the  beard  I  but  we  will  be  euen  with  him ;  and  He  5 
be  forswome  but  He  be  reuenged. 

28  dishonor,]  Bl.  om,  comma 


sen] 


MIDAS 


153 


Pet.  And  here  I  vow  by  my  conceald  beard,  if  euer  it  chaunce 

to  be  discouered  to  the  worlde,  that  it  maye  make  a  pike  deuant, 

I  wil  haue  it  so  sharp  poyntedi  that  it  shall  stab  Motto  like  a 

xo  poynado. 

Licio,   And  I  protest  by  these  haires  on  my  head,  which  are  but 

casualties, — for  alas  who  knowes   not  how  soone  they  are  lost, 

Autumne  shaues  like  a  razor: — if  these  locks  be  rooted  against 

winde  and  weather,  spring  and  fall,  I  sweare  they  shal  not  be  lopped, 

15  till  Motto  by  my  knauerie  be  so  bauld,  that  I  may  ^Tite  verses  on  his 

scalpe.     In  witnesse  whereof  I  eate  this  haire:    now  must  thou 

Petulus  kisse  thy  beard,  for  that  was  the  book  thou  swarest  by. 

Pet.   Nay  I  woulde  I  coulde  come  but  to  kisse  my  chinne,  which 

is  as  yet  the  couer  of  my  booke  1  but  my  word  shall  stand.    Now  let 

x>  vs  read  the  inuentorie,  weele  share  it  equally. 

Licio.  What  els  ? 

Pet.  {reading).   *An  inuentorie  of  all  Mottoes  moueable  baddes 

and  goods,  as  also  of  such  debts  as  are  owing  him,  with  such  hous- 

hold  stufTe  as  cannot  be  remoued.    Inprimis^  in  the  bed-chamber, 

25  one  fowl  wife,  &  fine  smal  children.* 

Ucio.    He  not  share  in  that. 

Pet.    I  am  content,  take  thou  all.  These  be  his  moueable  baddes. 

Ucio.   And  from  me  they  shall  be  remoueables. 

Pet.    *  Item  in  the  seruants  chamber,  two  paire  of  curst  queanes 

30  tongues.' 

Lido.   Tongs  thou  wouldst  say. 

Pet.   Nay  they  pinch  worse  than  tongs. 

Licio.   They  are  moueables  He  warrant. 

Pet.   *  Item^  one  pair  of  homes  in  the  bridechamber,  on  the  beds 

sshead.' 

Lido.   The  beasts  head,  for  Motto  is  stuft  in  the  head,  and  these 

^  among  vnmoueable  goods. 

Pet.  Wei,  Faelix  quern  fadunt  aliena  pericula  cautum^  happie  are 

they  whom  other  mens   homes   do   make  to   beware.      ^Jtem,  a 

40  broken  pate  owing  me  by  one  of  the  Cole  house,  for  notching  his 

head  like  a  ches-boorde.' 

Licio.   Take  thou  that,  and  I  geue  thee  al  the  rest  of  his  debts. 

(^Makes  as  to  strike  Aim. ) 

17  swarest  Q  Bl. :    swearedst  Dii, :    swearest  F.         22-46  inv.  com.  DiL  only 
23  moueable  Q  Bl.  F. :  moveables  DiL  24  Imprimis  Dil,  42  Licio] 

^'  only.  prev.  eds.  append  Take  .  .  .  debts  to  Petulus^  preceding  speech,  though  foil, 
hfrtih  prefix  PeU 


y 


154  MIDAS  fACT  V 

Pet.  Noli  me  iangere^  I  refuse  the  executorship,  because  I  wil 
not  meddle  with  his  desperate  debts.     ^  Item^  an  hundred  shrewd 
tumes  owing  me  by  the  Pages  in  the  Court,  because  I  will  not  trust  45 
them  for  trimming.' 

Lido,   Thats  due  debt 

Pet  Wei,  because  Motto  is  poore,  they  shalbe  paid  him  cum  re- 
cumbentUms.  All  the  Pages  shall  enter  into  recognisance,  but  ecce^ 
Pipenetta  chaunts  it.  5o 

Enter  Pipenetta  singing. 

Song. 

Pip.  I.  'T  As!    How  long  shall  I 

And  my  Mayden-head  lie 
In  a  cold  Bed  all  the  night  long, 
I  cannot  abide  it, 

Yet  away  cannot  chide  it,  55 

Though  I  find,  it  does  me  some  wrong 

2.  Can  any  one  tell 

Where  this  fine  Thing  doth  dwell. 
That  carries  nor  forme,  nor  fashion? 

It  both  heates  and  cooles,  (k> 

Tis  a  Bable  for  Fooles, 
Yet  catch*d  at  in  euery  Nation. 

3.  Say  a  Maide  were  so  crost, 
As  to  see  this  Toy  lost, 

Cannot  Hue  and  Cry  fetch  it  agen?  65 

'Las!  No,  for  tis  driuen 

Nor  to  Hell,  nor  to  Heauen; 
When  tis  found,  tis  lost  euen  then. 

Pip,    Hey  ho !  would  I  were  a  witch,  that  I  might  be  a  Dutchesse. 

Pet,   I   know  not  whether  thy  fortune  is  to  be  a  Dutches,  but  70 
sure  I  am  thy  face  semes  thee  wel  for  a  witch  :  whats  the  matter  ? 

Pip*  The  matter?  marry  'tis  proclaymde,  that  who  soeuer  can 
tell  the  cause,  and  the  reeds  song,  shal  either  haue  Sophronia  to 
wife,  or  (if  she  refuse  it)  a  Dukedome  for  his  wisdome.  Besides, 
whosoeuer  saith,  that  Mydas  hath  asses  eares,  shal  lose  theirs.  75 

Lido,  He  be  a  Duke,  I  finde  honor  to  bud  in  my  head,  and 
mee  thinkes  euerie  ioynt  of  mine  armes,  from  the  shoulder  to  the 

s.  D.  Enter  Pipenetta  singiDg  so  old  eds,  though  Bl,  first  gives  Song  and  words 
61  bauble  DiL  modemiting  73  cause,  and  Q  Bl, :  cause  of  Dil,  F,  perh, 

rightly  {F,  wrongly  reports  Q  as  reading  of) 


^ii]  kiDAS  iS5 

little  finger,  saies   send   for  the   Herauld.    Mine  armes  are  all 
armariey  gules,  sables,  azure,  or,  vert,  pur,  post,  pare,  &c. 

80      Pit   And  my  heart  is  like  a  harth  where  Cupid  is  making  a 
fire,  for  Sophronia  shalbe  my  wife:  me  thinks  Venus  and  Nature 
stande  with  each  of  them  a  paire  of  bellowes,  the  one  cooling  my 
lowe  birth,  the  other  kindling  my  loftie  affections. 
Pip.  Apollo  wil  help  me  because  I  can  sing. 

85      Lido.  Mercuric  me,  because  I  can  lie. 

Pet  All  the  Gods  me,  because  I  can  lie,  sing,  sweare,  and  loue. 

But  soft,  here  comes  Motto^  now  shal  we  haue  a  fit  time  to  be 

reuenged,  if  by  deuise  we  can  make  him  say,  Mydas  hath  asses 

eares. 

Enter  Motto  {and  Dello). 

90     lAcio.   Let  vs  not  seeme  to  bee  angrie  about  the  Inuentorie, 
and  you  shall  see  my  wit  to  bee  the  hangman  for  his  tongue* 

Pip.   Why  fooles,  hath  a  Barbar  a  tongue  ? 

Pet  Weele  make  him  haue  a  tongue,  that  his  teeth  that  looke 
lyke  a  combe  shall  bee  the  cizzars  to  cut  it  off. 
95      Pip.   I  pray  let  mee  haue  the  odde  endes.    I  feare  nothing  so 
much  as  to  be  tongue  tawde. 

Lido.  Thou,  shalt  haue  all  the  shauings,  and  then  a  womans 
tongue  ympt  with  a  Barbars,  will  prooue  a  razor  or  a  raser. 

Pet    How  now,  Motio^  what  all  a  mort? 
100      Motto.   I  am  as  melancholy  as  a  cat. 

Lido.  Melancholy?  marie  gup,  is  melancholy  a  word  for  a 
barbars  mouth  ?  thou  shouldst  say,  heauie,  dull  and  doltish :  melan- 
choly is  the  creast  of  Courtiers  armes,  and  now  euerie  base  com- 
panion, beeing  in  his  muble  fubles,  sayes  he  is  melancholy. 
105  Pet.  Motto^  thou  shouldst  say  thou  art  lumpish.  If  thou  encroach 
vpon  our  courtly  tearmes,  weele  trotlce  thee :  belike  if  thou  shouldst 
spit  often,  thou  wouldst  call  it  the  rewme.  Motto,  in  men  of  repu- 
tation &  credit  it  is  the  rewme ;  in  such  mechanicall  mushrumpes,  it 
is  a  catarre,  a  pose,  the  water  euill.  You  were  best  weare  a  veluet  ^ 
1 10  patch  on  your  temples  too. 

Motto  {aside).  What  a  world  it  is  to  see  egges  forwarder  than 
cocks !  these  infants  are  as  cunning  in  diseases,  as  I  that  haue  runne 
them  ouer  all,  backward  and  forward. — I  tell  you  boyes,  it  is  melan- 
choly that  now  troubleth  me. 

96  tongne  Uw'de  Bl,  F. :  tonguetied  Dil.         107  the  om,  Bl,  Dil.  F.         108 
mushrooms  Dii. 


I  $6  MIDAS  [actv 

J?e//d.   My  master  could  tickle  you  with  diseases,  and  that  olde  115 
ones,  that  haue  continued  in  his  Auncestors  boanes  these   three 
hundred  yeres.     He  is  the  last  of  the  familie  that  is  left  vneaten. 

Motto.   What  meanst  thou  Dello  f 

jPet.   He  meanes  you  are  the  last  of  the  stocke  aliue,  the  rest  the 
wormes  haue  eaten.  120 

Z>ei/o.  A  pox  of  those  sawcie  wormes,  that  eate  men  before  they 
be  dead. 

Pet.    But  tell  vs  Motto,  why  art  thou  sad  ? 

Motto,  Because  al  the  Court  is  sad. 

Idcio.  Why  are  they  sad  in  Court  ?  125 

Motto,  Because  the  King  hath  a  paine  in  his  eares. 
,  Pet.  Belike  it  is  the  wennes. 

Motto.   It  may  be,  for  his  eares  are  swolne  verie  big. 

Pet.  {to  Lie).   Ten  to  one  Motto  knowes  of  the  asses  eares. 

Zia'o.    If  he  know  it,  we  shall :  for  it  is  as  hard  for  a  barbar  to  130 
keepe  a  secrete  in  his  mouth,  as  a  burning  coale  in  his  hand.    Thou 
shalt  see  mee  wring  it  out  by  wit    Motto,  twas  told  me  that  the 
King  will  discharge  you  of  your  office^  because  you  cut  his  eare  when 
you  last  trimd  him. 

Motto.   Tis  a  lye ;  and  yet  if  I  had,  he  might  wel  spare  an  inch  or  ^35 
two. 

Pet.  (Jo  Lie.).    It  will  out,  I  feele  him  comming. 

Dello  {aside  to  Motto).  Master,  take  heed,  you  will  blab  al  anone, 
these  wags  are  craftie. 

Motto.   Let  me  alone !  1^0 

Lido.   Why  Motto,  what  difference  between  the  kings  eares,  and 
thine  ? 

Motto.   As  much  as  betweene  an  asses  eares  and  mine. 

Pet.  O,  Motto  is  modest ;   to  mitigate  the  matter,  hee  calls  his 
owne  eares,  asses  eares.  145 

Motto.   Nay,  I  meane  the  Kings  are  asses  eares. 
/   Lido.  Treason,  treason ! 

Dello.   I  told  you,  master !  you  haue  made  a  faire  hand ;  for  now 
you  haue  made  your  lips  cizars  to  cut  off  your  eares. 

Motto.  Perijt  vnles  you  pitie  me.  Motto  is  in  a  pit  ,50 

Pet.   Nay  Motto,  treson  is  a  worse  pain  than  toothach. 

139  s.  D.  [to  Lie]  iuppl.  Dil.    Such  directions  are  never  marked  in  the  old  eds. 
s.  D.  [aside  to  Motto]  supplied  Dil.  148  you*]  your  Bl. 


sen]  MIDAS  157 

Licio.  >  Now  Motto^  thou  knowest  thine  eares  are  ours  to  com- 
maund 

Motto.  Your  seruants,  or  handmaides. 
J55     Pti.  Then  will  I  lead  my  maide  by  the  hand. 

He  pulls  him  by  the  eares. 

Motto.   Out  villen  !  thou  wringst  too  hard. 

JDello.    Not  so  hard  as  he  bit  me. 

Motto.  Thou  seest  boy  we  are  both  mortall.     I  enioye  mine 
eares,  but  durante  placito  ;  nor  thou  thy  finger,  hvXfauente  dento. 
160     JPet.  Yea  MottOy  hast  thou  Latin  ? 

Motto.   Alas !   hee  that  hath  drawen  so  manie  teeth,  and  neuer 
askt  Latin  for  a  tooth,  is  ill  brought  vp. 

Udo.  Well  Motto,  let  vs  haue  the  beard,  without  couin,  fraud,  or 
delay,  at  one  entier  paiment,  &  thou  shalt  scape  a  paiment 
1^5  Motto.  I  protest  by  cizars,  brush  and  combe;  bason,  ball  and 
apron;  by  razor,  eare-pike  and  rubbing  cloathes;  and  all  the  tria 
se^tiuntur  triaes  in  our  secret  occupation  (for  you  knowe  it  is  no 
blabbing  arte)  that  you  shall  haue  the  beard,  in  manner  and  forme 
following.  Not  onely  the  golden  beard  and  euerie  haire,  (though 
170  it  be  not  haire,)  but  a  dozen  of  beards,  to  stufTe  two  dozen  of 
cushions. 

Udo.  Then  they  be  big  ones. 

Delh.  They  be  halfe  a  yeard  broad,  and  a  nayle,  three  quarters 
long,  and  a  foote  thicke ;  so  sir  shall  you  finde  them  stufte  enough, 
175  and  soft  enough.  All  my  mistres  lynes  that  she  dryes  her  cloathes 
on,  are  made  only  of  Mustachio  stuffe.  And  if  I  durst  tell  the 
truth,  as  lustie  as  I  am  heere,  I  lye  vppon  a  bed  of  beards ;  a  bots 
of  their  bristles,  and  they  that  owe  them!  they  are  harder  than 
flockes. 
180  Pet.  A  fine  discourse!  well  Motto^  we  giue  thee  mercie,  but 
we  will  not  loose  the  beard.  Remember  nowe  our  Inuentorie.  Item^ 
wee  will  not  let  thee  goe  out  of  our  hands,  till  we  haue  the  beard  in 
our  hands. 

Motto.  Then  followe.  Exeunt. 


159  dento  Q  Bl,  F. :  dente  DiL  stupidly  166  tria]  tira  F,  ivithout  out  ho- 

^^y  '73  nay!e,]  Dil.  om.  comma  178  owe]  DiL  modernizes  to  own 


158  MIDAS  [act  V 

SCiEN.  Z.— {Delphi.    Before  Apollo's  Temple.) 

{Enter)  Mydas.    Sophronia.    Mellicrates.    Martius. 

Mid.   'T^His  is  Delphos.    Sacred  Apollo^  whose  Oracles  be  all 

JL      diuine,  though  doubtfuU :  aunswere  poore  Mydas^  and 

pitie  him.  {A  pause. ) 

Soph.  I  maniell  there  is  no  answere. 

Mid.   Fond  Mydas,  how  canst  thou  aske  pitie  of  him  whom  thou  5 

hast  so  much  abusde;  or  why  doost  thou  abuse  the  world,  both 

to  seeme  ignorant  in  not  acknowledging  an  offence ;  and  impudent, 

so  openly  to  craue  pardon  ?    Apollo  will  not  aunswere,  but  Mydas 

must  not  cease.     Apollo,  diuine  Apollo,  Mydas  hath  asses  eares,  yet 

let  pitie  sinke  into  thine  eares,  and  tell  when  he  shall  be  free  from  10 

this  shame,  or  what  may  mittigate  his  sinne? 

{A  pause. ) 

Mar.  Tush !  Apollo  is  tuning  his  pipes,  or  at  barly-breake  with 
Daphne,  or  assaying  on  some  Shepheardes  coate,  or  taking  measure 
of  a  serpents  skinne.    Were  I  Mydas,  I  would  rather  cut  these 
eares  off  close  from  my  head,  than  stand  whimpring  before  such  15 
a  blinde  God. 

Mid.  Thou  art  barbrous  not  valiant.  Gods  must  bee  entreated, 
not  commanded:  thou  wouldst  quench  fire  with  a  sword,  and  ad 
to  my  shame  (which  is  more  than  any  Prince  can  endure)  thy  rude- 
nesse,  (which  is  more  than  any  sensible  creature  would  folow).  20 
Diuine  Apollo,  what  shal  become  of  Mydas  ?  Accept  this  lute, 
these  berries,  these  simples,  these  tapers ;  if  Apollo  take  any  delight 
in  musick,  in  Daphne,  in  phisicke,  in  eternitie. 

Apollo  his  Oracle. 

When  Pan  Apollo  in  musick  shall  excell, 

Mydas  of  Phrygia  shall  lose  his  Asses  eares;  3. 

Pan  did  Apollo  in  musick  farre  excell. 

Therefore  king  Mydas  weareth  Asses  eares : 

Vnlesse  he  shrinke  his  stretching  hand  from  Lesbos, 

His  eares  in  length,  at  length  shal  reach  to  Delphos. 

Mel.   It  were  good,  to  expound  these  oracles,  that  the  learned  men  30 
in  Phrygia  were  assembled ;  otherwise  the  remedie  wil  be  as  impos- 
sible to  be  had,  as  the  cause  to  be  sifted. 

8.  D.  Apollo  hii  Orade  Q  Bl.  both  printing  the  words  of  the  oracle  as  her* 


scin]  MIDAS  159 

Mar.  I  foresaw  some  old  saw,  which  should  be  doutfull.    Who 

would  gad  to  such  gods,  that  must  be  honored  if  they  speake  without 

35  sence :  and  the  Oracle  wondred  at,  as  though  it  were  aboue  sence? 

Mid.   No  more  MartiusI     I  am  the  leamedst  in  Phrygia  to 

interprete  these  Oracles :  and  though  shame  hath  hetherto  caused 

me  to  conceale  it,  now  I  must  vnfould  it  by  necessitie.    Thus 

destinie  bringeth  me,  not  only  to  be  cause  of  all  my  shame,  but 

40  reporter.    Thou  Sophronia^  and  you  my  Lordes,  hearken ;    When 

I  had  bathed  my  self  in  Pactolus^  and  saw  my  wish  to  float  in  the 

wanes,  I  wished  the  waues  to  ouerflow  my  bodie,  so  melancolie  my 

fortune  made  me,  so  mad  my  follie :  yet  by  hunting  I  thought  to 

ease  my  heart     And  comming  at  last  to  the  hill  Tmolus,  I  per- 

45  ceyued  Apollo  and  Fan  contending  for  excellencie  in  musick : 
among  Nimphs  they  required  also  my  iudgement.  I  (whom  the 
losse  of  gold  made  discontent,  and  the  possessing  desperate)  eyther 
dulled  with  the  humors  of  my  weak  brain,  or  deceaued  by  thicknes 
of  my  deaffe  eares,  prefer'd  the  harsh  noyse  of  Pans  pipe,  before 

50  the  sweete  stroke  of  ApoUos  Lute,  which  caused  Phabus  in  iustice 
(as  I  now  confesse,  and  then  as  I  sawe  in  anger)  to  set  these  eares 
on  my  head,  that  haue  wroong  so  many  teares  from  mine  eyes.  For 
stretching  my  hands  to  Lesbos,  I  find  that  all  the  Gods  haue  spumde 
at  my  practises,  and  those  Ilandes  scornd  them.     My  pride  the  gods 

55  disdaine ;  my  pollicie  men :  my  mines  haue  bin  emptied  by  soul- 
diers,  my  souldiers  spoyled  by  warres,  my  wars  without  successe, 
because  vsurping,  my  vsurping  without  end,  because  my  ambition 
aboue  measure.  I  wil  therfore  yeeld  my  self  to  Bacchus^  and  ac- 
knowledge my  wish   to  be  vanitie :    to  Apollo^  and  confesse  my 

60  iudgement  to  be  foolish :  to  Mars^  and  say  my  warres  are  vniust : 
to  Diana^  and  tell  my  affection  hath  been  vnnaturall.  And  I  doubt 
not,  what  a  God  hath  done  to  make  me  know  my  selfe,  al  the  gods 
wil  help  to  vndo,  that  I  may  come  to  my  selfe. 

Soph,  {aside).   Is  it  possible  that  Mydas  should  be  so  ouershot  in 

65  iudgement  ?  Vnhappy  Mydas^  whose  wits  melt  with  his  gold,  and 
whose  gold  is  consumed  with  his  wits. 

Mid.   What  talketh  Sophronia  to  her  selfe  ? 
Soph.   Nothing,  but  that  since  Mydas  hath  confessed  his  fault  to 
vs,  he  also  acknowledge  it  to  Apollo. 

33  Mar.]  Mel.  Bl,  44  Timolas  Dil.         45-6  musick:  among  Nimphs 

they  so  punctuated  Q  Bl. :  music  among  nymphs ;  they  Dil,  F.,  the  latter  placing 
comma  at  mnsiqnc  58-9  acknowledged  F. 


i6o  MIDAS  [act  V 

» 

Mid.  1  wil  Sophronia.    Sacred  Apollo^  things  passed  cannot  be  70 
recalled,  repented  they  may  be :  behold,  Mydas  not  only"  submitting 
himselfe  to  punishment,  but  confessing  his  peeuishnes,  being  glad 
for  shame  to  call  that  peeuishnes,  which  indeed  was  foUie.    What- 
soeuer  Apollo  shal  commaund,  Mydas  will  execute. 

Apollo  (^from  the  Temple).  Then  attend  Mydas.  I  accept  thy  sub-  75 
mission,  and  sacrifice,  so  as  yerelie  at  this  temple  thou  offer  Sacrifice 
in  submission  :  withal,  take  Apollos  councel,  which  if  thou  scome, 
thou  shalt  finde  thy  destinie.  I  will  not  speake  iti  riddles,  all 
shalbe  plaine,  because  thou  art  dul,  but  all  certaine,  if  thou  be 
obstinate.  80 

Weigh  not  in  one  ballance  gold  and  iustice. 

With  one  hand  wage  not  war  and  peace. 

Let  thy  head  be  glad  of  one  Crowne. 

And  take  care  to  keep  one  frend. 

The  frend  that  thou  wouldst  make  thy  foe,  85 

The  kingdome  thou  wouldst  make  the  world. 

The  hand  that  thou  doest  arme  with  force, 

The  gold  that  thou  doest  think  a  god. 

Shall  conquere,  fsdl,  shrinke  short,  be  common: 

With  force,  with  pride,  with  feare,  with  traffick.  90 

If  this  thou  like,  shake  off  an  Asses  eares : 

If  not,  for  euer  shake  an  Asses  eares* 

Soph.   Apollo  will  not  reply. 

Mid.  It  may  be  Sophrotda^  that  neither  you,  nor  anie  els,  vnder- 
stand  Apollo^  because  none  of  you  haue  the  hart  of  a  king :  but  my  95 
thoughts  expound  my  fortunes,  and  my  fortunes  hang  vpon  my 
thoughts.    That  great  Apollo^  that  ioynd  to  my  head  Asses  eares, 
hath  put  into  my  heart  a  Lions  minde.     I  see  that  by  obscure 
shadows,  which  you  cannot  disceme  in  fresh  colours.    Apollo  in  the 
depth  of  his  darke  answere,  is  to  mee  the  glistering  of  a  bright  sunne.  100 
I  perceiue  (and  yet  not  too  late)  that  Lesbos  wil  not  be  touched  by 
gold,  by  force  it  cannot :  that  the  Gods  haue  pitched  it  out  of  the 
world,  as  not  to  bee  controlde  by  any  in  the  world.    Though  my 
hande  bee  golde,  yet  I  must  not  thinke  to  span  ouer  the  maine 
Ocean.    Though  my  souldiers  be  valiant,  I  must  not  therfore  thinke  105 
my  quarrels  iusL     There  is  no  way  to  nayle  the  crowne  of  Phrygia 

93  Soph.  F.  onfyf  prtv,  eds.  priniing  the  speech  as  closing  Hne  of  the  oracle 
97  That]  The  Dil. 


in]  MIDAS  i6i 

fast  to  my  daughtevd  head  but  in  letting  the  crownes  of  others  sitte 
in  quiet  on  theirs. 
Jfar.  Mydas! 

no  Mid.  How  darest  thou  replie  seeing  me  resolued?  thy  counsell 
hath  spilt  more  bloud  than  all  my  souldiers  lances !  let  none  be  so 
hardie  as  to  looke  to  crosse  me.  Sacred  AppollOy  if  sacrifice  yerely 
at  thy  temple,  and  submission  hourely  in  mine  owne  Court,  if  ful- 
filling fliy  counsell,  and  correcting  my  councellors,  may  shake  off 

115  these  Asses  eares,  I  heere  before  thee  vow  to  shake  off  al  enuies 
abrode,  and  at  home  all  tyrannie. 

The  eares  fall  off. 

Soph.   Honored  be  ApollOy  Mydas  is  restored. 
Mid.  Fortunate  Mydas^  that  feelst  thy  head  lightned  of  dul  eares, 
and  thy  heart  of  deadly  sorows.    Come  my  Lords,  let  vs  repaire 

1 30  to  our  Palace,  in  which  Apollo  shall  haue  a  stately  statue  erected: 
euery  month  will  we  solemnize  there  a  feast,  and  here  euery  yere 
a  sacrifice.  Phrygia  shalbe  gouerned  by  Gods,  not  men,  leaste  the 
Gods  make  beasts  of  men.  So  my  counsell  of  warre  shal  not  make 
conquests  in  their  owne  conceiptes,  nor  my  councellers  in  peace 

125  make  me  poor,  to  enrich  them  selues.  So  blessed  be  Apollo^  quiet 
be  Lesbos,  happie  be  Mydas:  and  to  begin  this  solemnitie,  let 
vs  sing  to  Apollo^  for,  so  much  as  Musick,  nothing  can  content 
Apollo. 

They  sing  all. 


130 


Song. 

Clng  to  Apollo^  God  of  Day, 

Whose  golden  beames  with  mommg  play. 


And  make  her  eyes  so  brightly  shine, 
Aurora^s  face  is  call'd  Diuine. 
Sing  to  PhcBbus^  and  that  Throne 
Of  Diamonds  which  he  sits  vpon ; 
J  25  I^  Paeans  let  vs  sing, 

To  Physickes,  and  to  Poesies  King. 

1 30  statue]  palace  Dil.  s.  D.  They  ling  all.    Exeunt,  so  Q,  omitting  th€ 

•words  of  the  song,  which  are  first  given  in  6 I. 

BOND    III  ^ 


x62  MIDAS  [act  V,  sc.  iii 

Crowne  all  his  Altars  with  bright  fire^ 
Laurels  bind  about  his  Lire, 
A  Daphnecm  Coronet  for  his  Head, 
The  Muses  dance  about  his  Bed; 
When  on  his  rauishing  Lute  he  playes. 
Strew  his  Temple  round  with  Bayes. 

16  Paeans  let  vs  sing, 

To  the  glittering  Delian  King. 

Exeunt 


FINIS. 


1^0 


MOTHER  BOMBIE 


II  2 


EDITIONS 

'xriij  Jonij  1594  Cathbert  Burby  .  Entred  for  his  copie  Tnder  th  and  of  master 
warden  Cawood  a  booke  intituled  mother  Bambye  beinge  an  enterlade  .  .  •  yj^  C* 
Statiaturs^  Register,  ii.  654  (ed.  Arb.)*  ('  C  *  indicates  the  warden,  Cawood ;  juat 
as  '  S '  and  '  A/  on  pp.  631,  614,  indicate  the  wardens  Styrrop  and  Allen.) 

Q'*  Mother  \  BotnbU.  \  As  it  was  sundrie  times plaUd  by  \  the  Children  ofPowles,  \ 
London,  \  Imprinted  by  Thomas  Scarlet  \for  Cuthbert  Burby,  |  1594.  |  4to.  A-l  3 
in  fours :  no  coU    (Br.  Mas. :  Bodl.) 

Q  •  Mother  \  Bombie,  \  As  it  was  sundrie  times  \  plaiedby  the  Children  of  Powles.  \ 
London  \  Printed  by  Thomas  Crude,  for  Cuthbert  \  Burby,  1598.  |  4to.  a-h  in 
fonrs:  no  col.    (Br.  Mns;:  Bodl.:  Dyce  Coll.  S.  Kens.) 

The  Sixe  Court  Comedies  are  entered  to  Blount  under  date  9  Jan.  1638.  (^Sta. 
Reg,  iv.  p.  19a,  Arb.— entry  quoted  under  Campaspe  Eds.) 

Third  cd.       Mother  \  Bombie.  \  As  it  was  sundry  times  \  Played  by  the  Children  \  of  Pavls.  \ 
(Blount's)    iffnfion^  |  printed  by   William  Stamby,  \for  Edward  Blount.  \  163a.  |  lamo, 

occupying  Z4-Dd  la,  in  twelves,  of  the  Sixe  Court  Comedies. 
Also  contained  in  Dilke*s  Old  English  Plays,  vol.  i.  1814,  8vo :  and  in  Fair- ' 

holt's  edition  of  Lyly's  Dramatic  Works,  vol.  ii.  1858,  sm.  8vo. 


MOTHER    BOMBIE 

Argument.  —  Two  wealthy  old  men,  Memphio  and  Stellio,  each 
ignorant  of  mental  defect  in  the  other's  child  (named  Accius  and 
Silena  respectively),  scheme  to  cheat  each  other  into  matching  them. 
Two  other  old  men,  Sperantus  and  Prisius,  opposing  the  union  of 
their  son  and  daughter  Candius  and  Livia,  scheme  to  marry  them  to 
the  foolish  children  of  their  wealthier  neighbours.  The  pages  of  all 
four,  allies  in  mischief,  are  privy  to  their  schemes,  and  possess  the 
further  knowledge  of  weak  wits  in  Accius  and  Silena.  To  befool 
their  masters,  they  plot  to  forward  alike  the  undesirable  match  be- 
tween these  ttiro,  and  the  love-match  between  Candius  and  Livia. 
After  a  first  meeting  between  the  fools,  interrupted  by  the  parents 
before  the  defect  is  discovered  to  be  mutual,  they  arrange  for  a 
second,  at  which  either  parent  supposes  his  imbecile  child  to  be  per- 
sonated by  some  one  better  qualified  for  courting.  But  the  fools, 
though  disguised  in  Candius'  and  Livia's  attire,  betray  their  identity 
to  his  or  her  parent,  and  their  folly  to  the  parent  of  the  other. 
Meantime  Candius  and  Livia,  disguised  as  Accius  and  Silena,  have 
effected  their  marriage  with  the  connivance  of  their  unsuspecting 
fathers,  who,  though  they  see  their  ambitions  thus  thwarted,  are  still 
resolved  to  prevent  their  own  children's  union.  Discovering  that 
they  have  been  duped,  they  at  length  determine  to  forgive  the 
offenders  and  their  accomplices.  Memphio  and  Stellio  are  similarly 
persuaded  that  a  match  between  the  two  fools  will  be  better  than  no 
union  for  them  at  all;  but  the  marriage  is  prevented  by  the  discovery 
that  they  are  really  the  children  of  an  old  nurse  Vicinia,  who 
changed  them  at  birth  for  the  rich  men's  real  offspring,  Maestius  and 
Serena.  An  unnatural  passion  between  these  latter  is  thus  rendered 
legitimate  ;  Memphio  and  Stellio  engage  still  to  support  the  crazed 
couple ;  the  rascally  pages  are  forgiven,  and  the  general  goodwill 
enhanced  by  the  amicable  adjustment  of  a  side-quarrel  between  the 
latter  and  a  horse-dealer.  Mother  Bombie,  who  gives  a  title  to  the 
piece,  is  a  '  wise  woman '  to  whom  the  different  characters  resort  for 


1 66  MOTHER  BOMBIE 

advice  or  prognostication,  and  who  prophesies  in  popular  doggrel 
form  the  actual  issue  in  each  case ;  but  she  affects  the  plot  only  as 
inducing  Vicinia's  confession  at  the  close. 

Text  and  Bibliography.  —  The  text  followed  is  that  of  Q\ 
which  however  corrupt  is  by  far  the  best,  and  well  printed.  It 
exhibits  some  seventy  errors,  ten  occurring  in  classical  quotations 
(e.g.  on  pp.  i8i,  i86, 192,  206),  ten  being  omissions  of  speeches,  hn- 
portant  words,  or  stage-directions  for  entry  and  exit  (e.g.  on  pp.  189, 
217,  222),  ten  or  twelve  others  being  mistakes  that  cause  con- 
fusion (e.g.  on  pp.  196,  205,  210,  212,  221),  and  the  rest  compara- 
tively unimportant 

Q*  corrects  only  twenty  of  the  seventy  mistakes  of  Q^,  only  six  of 
which  corrections  are  important,  the  rest  being  of  such  errors  as 
could  cause  no  misapprehension ;  while  on  the  other  hand  it  intro- 
duces sixty-seven  corruptions,  including  six  important  omissions 
(on  pp.  182, 183, 193,  202,  21 1,  218)  and  fifteen  other  important  errors 
(on  pp.  178, 184  (two),  190,  192  (two),  193  (two),  196,  197,  204,  211, 
212,  216  and  222). 

Blount  prints  from  Q'  and  perpetuates  most  of  its  errors,  making 
altogether  only  twelve  corrections  and  sixteen  fresh  corruptions. 
But  he  inserts  all  the  songs  except  'The  Love-knot,'  v.  3.  21. 

Dilke  seems  to  have  had  both  quartos  before  him,  though  in  two 
instances,  i.  3.  169,  ii.  i.  12,  he  fails  to  insert  three  words  found  only 
in  the  first  He  makes  sixteen  corrections  and  eleven  corruptions 
— distinctly  the  next  best  text  to  Q^  though  modernized  in  places. 

Fairholt  merely  reprinted  Blount,  making  only  five  original  cor- 
rections and  introducing  twenty  corruptions.  His  notes,  in  which 
one  or  two  of  the  worst  omissions  and  errors  are  pointed  out  and 
emended,  show  that  he  had  both  QQ,  as  well  as  Dilke*s  edition, 
before  him ;  but  he  mad»  no  thorough  collation  of  the  text,  so  that 
the  great  majority  of  its  errors  were  reproduced.  By  returning  to  Q^ 
we  eliminate  the  whole  after-growth  of  corruption,  while  we  have 
attempted  to  emend  its  original  errors. 

Authorship.  —  The  evidence  of  Lyly's  authorship  of  the  play  is 
its  performance  by  the  PauFs  boys ;  its  scene  laid  in  his  county  of 
Kent ;  its  strong  resemblance  in  plot-construction  and  handling  to 
Tiis  other  plays,  in  spite  of  his  abandonment  here  of  a  mythological, 


INTRODUCTION  167 

allegorical  or  ideal  treatment  for  a  realistic  one ;  its  repetition  of 
many  phrases,  proverbs,  &c.  used  by  him  elsewhere — though  the 
euphuistic  style  is  almost  entirely  abandoned ;  and  lastly,  its  inclusion 
by  Blount  in  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies  of  1632.  His  name,  however, 
appears  on  the  title-page  of  neither  quarto  edition. 

Scarce.  —  There  appears  to  be  no  direct  source  for  the  plot — the 
only  one  of  Lyly's  plays  of  which  this  can  be  said :  but  the  general 
model — the  idea  of  rascally  servants  aiding  their  young  masters  in 
marriage-schemes  against  their  parents'  wishes — is  obviously  Terence. 
Of  Roman  comedy  also  is  the  motive  of  child-changing,  and  the 
solution  of  the  plot  by  the  discovery  of  such.  In  my  note  on 
Italian  influence  (vol.  ii.  pp.  473  sqq.)  I  have  already  stated  that  I 
attach  little  importance  to  Herr  L.  L.  Schiicking's  claim  that  the 
piece  is  indebted  to  Ariosto's  SupposiH^  to  Cecchi's  comedies,  or  to 
the  Anfivalomcni  of  Cinthio;  though  doubtless  Lyly  had  read 
Gascoigne's  Supposes^  which  could  yield  him  next  to  nothing  for  our 
play.  In  the  Hackneyman  and  the  Fortune-teller  we  have  English 
national  types  for  which  Lyly's  own  experience  could  furnish  him 
with  far  better  and  more  abundant  models  than  possibly  could  the 
Italian  extemporal  stage. 

Date.  —  The  play  in  spite  of  its  contemporary  character  contains 
nothing  that  may  help  us  to  date  it  save  the  statement  on  the  title- 
page  of  the  first  quarto  (1594)  that  it  was  'sundrie  times  plaied 
by  the  Children  of  Powles.'  This  must  be  before  their  long  in- 
hibition, our  earliest  evidence  of  which  is  the  entry  of  Endimion^ 
Gallathea  ziA  Midas  in  the  Stationers'  Register  Oct  4, 1591,  coupled 
with  the  allusion  of  the  printer  in  his  prefatory  note  to  Endimion, 
1 59 1 : — 'Since  the  Plaies  in  Paules  were  dissolued  there  are  certaine 
Commedies  come  to  my  handes  by  chaunce,'  &c.  Midas  was  per- 
formed at  Court  on  Jan.  6,  1590,  and  there  is  no  necessity  to  suppose 
the  inhibition  earlier  than  1591.  Fleay  dates  Mother  Bombie  1588-9 
or  possibly  1589-90.  But  it  is  scarcely  conceivable  that  a  play  of 
contemporary  life,  written  by  the  topical  Lyly  in  the  year  of  the 
Armada,  and  with  the  scene  laid  in  Kent,  should  contain  no  faintest 
echo  of  the  great  struggle  which  then  absorbed  all  men's  thoughts ; 
while  in  1589  Lyly  was  probably  too  busy  to  write  it,  for  he  sat  in 
Parliament  from  Feb.  4  to  March  29,  and  composed  both  Midas  and 
Pappe^  and  probably  one  of  the  lost  Anti-Martinist  comedies,  in  the 


i6S  MOTHER  BOMBIE 

same  year.  There  are  strong  reasons  for  supposing  it  later  than 
Midas  in  (i)  the  rarity  of  reminiscences  of  Euphues  and  the  few 
traces  of  euphuistic  style ;  (2)  the  far  greater  skill  in  weaving  a  plot, 
a  point  in  which  we  have  already  watched  his  gradual  advance; 
lastly,  (3),  an  arguipent  well  urged  by  Mr.  Baker  {Endymioriy  p.  clii), 
its  character  as  a  new  departure,  aa  essay  in  Terentian  comedy,  after 
which  Lyly  would  be  less  likely  to  return  to  the  more  conventional 
allegorical  fashion  of  Midas  and  the  three  preceding  plays.  I 
should,  therefore^  date  its  composition  and  production  in  1590.  The 
reason  why  it  is  not  included  among  those  announced  for  publica- 
tion by  Widow  Broome  in  1591,  is,  perhaps,  its  more  popular 
character,  which  would  give  it  a  better  chance  of  acceptance  at  other 
theatres. 


Time  and  Place.  —  Some  two  days  altogether  are  occupied,  from 
the  middle  of  Monday  to  the  middle  of  Wednesday.  The  continuity 
of  Acts  i  and  ii  is  shown  at  the  beginning  of  ii.  i,  where  Riscio 
meets  Dromio,  whom  he  set  out  to  seek  at  the  end  of  i.  2.  At  the 
end  of  ii.  i  the  four  wags  adjourn  to  the  tavern,  and  on  issuing  from 
it  agree  to  meet  *to  morrow'  (ii.  4.  24).  In  iii.  2  they  do  so 
meet,  having  in  the  interim  fixed  the  second  encounter  of  Accius 
and  Silena  for  that  evening  ('I  told  him  this  wooing  should  be 
to  night'  (iii.  2.  36).  Just  before  that  second  encounter,  occurs 
the  troth-plight  of  Candius  and  Livia  and  their  immediate  adjourn- 
ment to  church  (iv.  i.  58).  Towards  the  close  of  this  same 
second  day  the  wags  adjourn  with  the  Sergeant,  Hackneyman  and 
Scrivener  to  the  tavern  (iv.  2.  242),  whence  they  are  seen  issuing 
in  V.  I.  A  night  intervenes,  and  then  in  v.  2  Mother  Bombie 
promises  Vicinia  a  solution  of  her  difficulties  '  before  this  daie  end,' 
which  corresponds  with  her  promise  to  Msestius  and  Serena  on  the 
preceding  day  (iii.  i.  40)  that  they  should  *  be  married  to  morow.' 
Immediately  after  enter  the  fiddlers  (v.  3)  to  salute  the  newly- 
married  pair,  Candius  and  Livia,  with  morning  music ;  and  at  the 
close  of  the  long  denouement  the  four  old  men  agree  to  feast  at  their 
respective  houses  on  that  and  the  three  following  days, '  and  euen  so 
spend  this  weeke  in  good  cheere.' 

So  that  Acts  i,  ii  occupy  the  latter  part  of  Monday. 
„        „     iii,  iy,  v.  i  occupy  the  whole  of  Tuesday. 
i>        91      V.  2,  3  occupy  the  first  part  of  Wednesday. 


INTRODUCTION  169 

In  the  matter  of  Place  Lyly  strictly  follows  his  Roman  model, 
Terence.  Whatever  improbabilities  are  involved,  the  stage  repre- 
sents throughout  one  and  the  same  place,  an  open  square,  namely, 
or  street,  wherein  are  situated  the  houses  of  the  four  old  men,  of 
Mother  Bombie  and  of  the  Scrivener,  and  also  the  tavern  to  which 
the  different  characters  repair ;  nor  is  there  anything  in  the  dialogue 
requiring  an  imaginary  transfer  in  the  middle  of  a  scene.  The  proof 
of  this  identity  of  scene  is  as  follows :  the  near  neighbourhood  of 
Memphio's  and  Stellio's  houses  is  implied  in  iii.  3  and  iv.  2,  where, 
after  their  first  and  second  encounters,  the  parents  call  their  half- 
witted children  in.  That  Sperantus'  house  is  hard  by  is  evident 
from  V.  3,  where  the  fiddlers  pass  from  it  to  Memphio's,  and  are 
greeted  from  upper  windows  by  Sperantus  and  Memphio  in  turn. 
That  Mother  Bombie's  house  is  also  there  is  clear  from  ii.  3,  where 
Silena,  seen  issuing  *  out  of  Stellio's  house '  at  the  beginning  of  the 
scene,  summons  the  wise  woman  forth  to  speak  with  her  near  the 
end  of  it.  That  Prisius'  house  is  also  near  is  shown  in  iii.  4,  where 
his  servants  Rixula  and  Lucio  have  evidently  just  come  out  of  it, 
and  visit  Mother  Bombie  in  the  same  scene.  (Note  that  Rixula, 
hearing  from  Mother  Bombie  the  whereabouts  of  the  spoon  she  has 
lost,  wants  to  run  at  once  and  see  if  it  is  still  there,  iii.  4.  153-7*) 
The  presence  of  the  tavern  and  the  Scrivener's  house  is  evident 
from  the  end  of  iv.  2,  a  scene  already  shown  to  be  laid  before  the 
houses  of  Memphio  and  Stellio. 


"?3^M*M^SM>^« 


SMOTHERill 

^;^^  B  O  M  B  I  E.  4^y«!^ 

V3^^^'     ^/  (7  irrf/  fundf  it  limts  fticd  l>)     ^^,  ^T 
^L^aS  ikCkUrtmf  Fmh.  icSS^S 


JS^S^if  .    London,  i;jl?J/#5if 

t"  ^V6   ^Tiprinrtdby  ThomflsScarlec  ^y\A^ 
.r'y»         forCuihbcriBiirby.  „US'.» 

^ •ai.^Jm 


(DRAMATIS  PERSONiE. 

Memphio,  an  avaricious  Old  Man. 

Stellio,  a  wealthy  Husbandman. 

Prisius,  a  Fuller. 

Sperantus,  a  Farmer. 
'^^Candius,  Son  to  Sperantus,  5 

"^  MfiSTius,  Son  to  Memphio;  supposed  Son  to  Vicinia. 
-H  Accius,  supposed  Son  to  Memphio. 

Dromio,  a  Boy^  Servant  to  Memphio. 

Riscio,  a  Boy,  Servant  to  Stellio. 

Halfpenny,  a  Boy^  Servant  to  Sperantus.  lo 

Lucio,  a  Boy^  Servant  to  Prisius. 
'^  LiviA,  Daughter  to  Frisius. 

^   Serzha^  Daughter  to  Stellio ;  supposed  Daughter  to  Vicinia. 
-r  SiLENA,  supposed  Daughter  to  Stellio. 

Vicinia,  a  Nurse^  Mother  to  Accius  and  Silena.  15 

Mother  Bombie,  a  Fortune-teller. 

RixULA,  a  Servant-girl  to  Frisius. 

Synis, 

N ASUTUS,       •  three  Fiddlers. 

BedunenusJ  ao 

Hackneyman. 

Sergeant 

Scrivener. 

Scene — Rochester:  an  open  square  or  street.) 

Dram.  Pees.]  the  list  first  in  Dilke,  descriptions  in  Fairholt.  3^4  Prisius, 
a  Fuller ;  Spbrantus,  a  Farmer]  Fairholt  described  them  as  '  old  cowUrymen  * ; 
but  supp.  178  top^  i8a  //.  184,  189, 19^  /.  62,  aax  /.  144  ScBifB-«-Rochester 

^tcc.]  Fairholt  first  fiave  the  scene '  /Rochester ' 


A  PLEASANT  CONCEITED  COMCEDIE 

CALLED 

MOTHER  BOMBIE 

ACTUS   PRIMUS 

ScENA  Prima. 
{Enter)  Memphio,  DROMia 

Memphio,    T^  OY,  there  are  three  thinges  that  make  my  life  miser- 
J3     able ;  a  threed  bare  purse,  a  curst  wife,  &  a  foole 
to  my  heire. 
Dro.  Why  then,  sir,  there  are  three  medicines  for  these  three  ^ 
5  maladies ;   a  pike-stafife  to  take  a  purse  on  the  high  way,  a  holly  -? 
wand  to  brush  cholar  frd  my  mistres  tong,  and  a  young  wench  for 
my  yong  master :  so  that  as  your  Worship  being  wise  begot  a  foole, . 
so  he  beeing  a  foole  may  tread  out  a  wise  man. 

Memp.   I,  but,  Dromio^  these  medicines  bite  hot  on  great  mis-. 
xo  chiefs ;  for  so  might  I  haue  a  rope  about  my  necke,  homes  vpon  ^ 
my  head,  and  in  my  house  a  litter  of  fooles. 

Dro.  Then,  sir,  you  had  best  let  some  wise  man  sit  on  your 
Sonne,  to  hatch  him  a  good  wit :  they  saie,  if  lauens  sit  on  hens 
egs,  the  chickens  will  be  black,  and  so  forth. 
15      Memp,  Why  boy,  my  sonne  is  out  of  the  shell,  and  is  growen 
a  pretie  cocke. 

Dro,   Carue  him,  master,  &  make  him  a  capon,  els  all  your  breed 
will  proue  cockescombes. 
Memp.  I  maruell  he  is  such  an  asse,  hee  takes  it  not  of  his 
30  father. 

Dro,  He  may  for  anie  thing  you  know. 

Memp.  Why,  villain,  dost  thou  think  me  a  foole  ? 

Dro.  O  no,  sir,  neither  are  you  sure  that  you  are  his  father,   v 

Actus  . . .  Prima]  the  division  into  Acts  and  Scenes  is  that  of  the  oldest  and  alt 
succeeding  editions  5  mala-ladies  Q^  holy  Q^  6choler^/. 

Dil,  F.  14  chichens  Q^  15  growne  Q^  rest 


I 


1>    ^ 


174  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [acti 

Memp.  Rascall,  doest  thou  imagine  thy  mistres  naught  of  her 
bodie?  35 

Dro,  No,  but  fantasticall  of  her  mind ;  and  it  may  be,  when  this 
boy  was  begotten  shee  thought  of  a  foole,  &  so  conceiued  a  foole, 
your  selfe  beeing  verie  wise,  and  she  surpassing  honest. 

Memp,   It  may  be;    for  I  haue  heard  of  an  Aethiopian,  that 
thinking  of  a  faire  picture,  brought  forth  a  faire  ladie,  and  yet  no  30 
bastard. 

Dro,  You  are  well  read,  sir ;  your  sonne  may  be  a  bastard,  and 
^  ^     /yet  legitimate ;  your  selfe  a  cuckold,  &  yet  my  mistres  vertuous ;  all 
this  in  conceit. 

Memp,  Come,  Dromio^  it  is  my  grief  to  haue  such  a  sonne  that  35 
must  inherit  my  lands. 

Dro,   He  needs  not,  sir,  He  b^  him  for  a  foole. 

Memp,  Vile  boy  I  thy  yong  master  ? 

Dro,  Let  me  haue  in  a  deuice. 
V    Memp,  He  haue  thy  aduice,  and  if  it  fadge,  thou  shalt  eate  till  4^^ 
thou  sweate,  play  till  thou  sleep,  and  sleepe  till  thy  bones  ake. 

Dro,  I  marie,  now  you  tickle  me^  I  am  both  hungrie,  gamesome, 
&  sleepie,  and  all  at  once.  He  breake  this  head  against  the  wal,  but 
He  make  it  bleed  good  matter. 

Memp,  Then  this  it  is^  thou  knowest  I  haue  but  one  sonne,  and  45 
be  is  a  foole. 
/     Dro,  A  monstrous  foole  ! 

Memp,   A  wife,  and  she  an  arrand  scold. 

Dro,  Ah,  master,  I  smell  your  deuice,  it  will  be  excellent ! 

Memp,   Thou  canst  not  know  it  till  I  tell  it  50 

Dro,  I  see  it  through  your  braines,  your  haire  is  so  thin,  and  your 
scull  so  transparant,  I  may  sooner  see  it  than  heare  it. 

Memp,  Then,  boy,  hast  thou  a  quicke  wit,  and  I  a  slow  tongue  ; 
but  what  ist  ? 

Dro,   Marie,  either  you  would  haue  your  wiues  tong  in  your  sons  55 
head,  that  he  might  bee  a  prating  foole ;  or  his  braines  in  hir  brain 
pan,  that  she  might  be  a  foolish  scold. 

Memp,  Thou  dreamst,  Dromio^  there  is  no  such  matter.    Thou 
knowest  I  haue  kept  him  close,  so  that  my  neighbors  thinke  him  to 
be  wise,  and  her  to  be  temperate,  because  they  neuer  heard  them  60 
speake. 

30  ladie  so  all:  qy,  t  bftbie  {P,  A,  Danitt)  40-1  eate  till  thou]  eate,  thon 

fhalt  alleds,:  see  note       48  arrand  QQ  Bl,       59  him  ^J  them  Dil,  phps,  rightljt 


aci]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  175 

JDro.  WeU! 

Memp.  Thou  knowest  that  Steltio  hath  a  good  farme  and  a  faire 
daughter;  yea  so  faire  that  she  is  mewed  vp,  and  onely  looketh  out 
65  at  the  windows,  least  she  should  by  some  roisting  courtier  be  stollen 
away. 

Dro.  So,  sir. 

Memp.  Now  if  I  could  compasse  a  match  between  my  sonne 
and  SUlUos  daughter,  by  conference  of  vs  parents,  and  without 
70  theirs,  I  should  be  blessed,  he  coosned,  and  thou  for  euer  set  at 
libertie. 

jDro,  A  singular  conceit 

Memp,  Thus  much  for  my  sonne.  Nowe  for  my  wife ;  I  would 
haue  this  kept  from  her,  else  shal  I  not  be  able  to  keepe  my  house 
75  from  smoake ;  for  let  it  come  to  one  of  her  eares,  &  then  wo  to  both 
mine :  I  would  haue  her  goe  to  my  house  into  the  Countrie  whilest 
we  conclude  this ;  and  this  once  done,  I  care  not  if  her  tong  neuer 
haue  done :  these  if  thou  canst  effect,  thou  shalt  make  thy  master 
bappie. 
80  Dro,  Thinke  it  done,  this  noddle  shall  coin  such  new  deuice  as 
you  shall  haue  your  sonne  marryed  by  to  morrow. 

Metnp,   But  take  heed  that  neither  the  father  nor  the  maide  speak 
to  my  sonne,  for  then  his  folly  will  marre  all. 

Dro.  Lay  all  the  care  on  mee,  SubUuabo  te  onere^  I  will  rid  you  of 
$5  a  foole. 

Memp,  Wilt  thou  rid  me  for  a  foole  ? 

Dro.  Tush  !  quarrell  not 

Memp.  Then  for  the  dowrie,  let  it  bee  at  least  two  hundreth  ducats, 
and  after  his  death  the  farme. 
90     Dro.  What  else  ? 

Memp.  Then  let  vs  in,  that  I  may  furnish  thee  with  some  better 
counsell,  and  my  son  with  better  apparelL 

Dro.  Let  me  alone. — {Aside.}  I  lacke  but  a  wagge  more  to  make 
of  my  counsell,  and  then  you  shall  see  an  exquisite  coosnage,  &  the 
95  father  more  foole  than  the  sonne. — But  heare  you^  sir,  I  forgot  one 
thing. 

Memp.  Whatsthat? 

Dro.   Nay,  Expellas  furca  licet^  vsgue  recurret. 

Memp.  Whats  the  meaning  ? 

67  So,]  No,  F.  70  coosDcd  QQ  Bl  F. :  coz*ned  DU,  75  woe  Bl. 

DU.  F.        81  by]  py  (^        88  hosdieth  QQ  Bl. :  hmidred  DiL  :  hmidicdth  F. 


176  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [acti 

^         Dro,   Why  though  your  sons  folly  bee  thrast  vp  with  a  paire  of  loo 
homes  on  a  forke,  yet  being  naturall,  it  will  haue  his  course. 
Memp,   I  praie  thee  no  more,  but  about  it  Exeunt 

ScE.  2. 

(^Enter)  Steluo,  Riscio. 

SteL  Risio^  my  daughter  is  passing  amiable,  but  verie  simple. 
V     Ris.  You  meane  a  foote,  sir. 

SteL   Faith  I  implie  so  much. 

Ris.  Then  I  apply  it  fit :  the  one  shee  takes  of  her  father,  the 
^  other  of  her  mother :  now  you  may  bee  sure  she  is  your  owne.  5 

SteL  I  have  penned  her  vp  in  a  chamber,  hauing  onely  a  windowe 
to  looke  out,  that  youthes  seeing  her  fayre  cheekes,  may  be  ena- 
moured before  they  heare  her  fond  speech.  How  likest  thou  this 
head? 

Ris.  There  is  verie  good  workmanship  in  it,  but  the  matter  is  but  10 
base ;  if  the  stuffe  had  bene  as  good  as  the  mold,  your  daughter  had 
bene  as  wise  as  she  is  beautifuU. 

SteL   Doest  thou  thinke  she  tooke  her  foolishnes  of  mee  ? 

Ris.   I,  &  so  cunningly,  that  she  toke  it  not  frd  you. 

Stel,   Well,  Quod  naturd  dedity  toUere  nemo  potest.  15 

Ris,  A  good  euidence  to  proue  the  fee-simple  of  your  daughters 
folly. 

SteL  Why? 

Ris,  It  came  by  nature,  and  if  none  can  take  it  awaie,  it  is  per- 
petuall.  20 

SteL   Nay,  Riscio^  she  is  no  natural  foole,  but  in  this  consisteth  her 
>         simplicitie,  that  she  thinketh  her  selfe  subtile ;  in  this  her  rudenesse, 
that  she  imagines  she  is  courtly ;  in  this  the  ouershooting  Of  her  selfe, 
that  she  ouerweeneth  of  her  selfe. 

Ris.  Well,  what  followes  ?  25 

SteL  RisiOy  this  is  my  plot  Memphio  hath  a  pretie  stripling  to  his 
Sonne,  whom  with  cockring  he  hath  made  wanton :  his  girdle  must 
be  warmde,  the  ayre  must  not  breath  on  him,  he  must  lie  a  bed  til 
noon,  and  yet  m  his  bed  breake  his  fast :  that  which  I  doe  to  con- 

loi  his]  its  /^  loa  no]  no  no  (^  BU  ScE.  2]  old  eds,  prefix  an 

erroneous  Act  2  ^s.  n.  Riscio  QQ^  though  elsewhere  often  Risio.    I  follow 

their  various  spelling  only  in  cUalogue  and  old  stago^rections  2  2  selfe  twice 

^.       subtiie;  ia  Vil.:  sabUle  in  QQ  BL  F. 


8C.ll]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  177 

30  oeale  the  folly  of  my  daughter,  that  doth  hee  m  too  much  cockering 
of  his  somie.  Now,  RiHo^  how  shall  I  compasse  a  match  betweene 
my  girle  and  his  boy  ? 

Jtis,  Why  with  a  payre  of  compasses,  and  bring  them  both  into 
the  circle,  He  warrant  the'il  match  themselues. 
35  Std.  Tush !  plot  it  for  me  that  neuer  speaking  one  to  another, 
they  be  in  loue  one  with  another :  I  like  not  solemne  woing,  it  is  for 
courtiers ;  let  countrie  folkes  beleeue  others  reports  as  much  as  their 
own  opinions. 

Jtis,  O  then,  so  it  be  a  match  you  care  not 
40     SUl.  Not  I,  nor  for  a  match  neither,  were  it  not  I  thirst  after  my 
neighbors  farme. 

Jtis.  {aside),  A  verie  good  nature. — ^Well,  if  by  flat  wit  I  bring 
this  to  passe,  whats  my  rewerd  ? 
SUL  Whatsoeuer  thou  wilt  aske. 
45     Jiis,  He  aske  no  more  than  by  my  wit  I  can  get  in  the  bargaine. 
Stel.   Then  about  it.  Exit 

Ris,  If  I  come  not  about  you  neuer  trust  mee.    He  seeke  out 
DromiOf  the  counseller  of  my  conceit  {Exit.} 

ScE.  3. 

{Enter)  Prisius,  Sperantus. 

Fris.   It  is  vnneighbourly  done  to  suffer  your  son  since  hee  came 

from  schoole,  to  spende  his  time  in  loue ;  and  vnwisely  done  to  let 

him  houer  ouer  my  daughter,  who  hath  nothing  to  her  dowrie  but 

her  needle,  &  must  proue  a  Sempster ;  nor  he  any  thing  to  take  to 

5  but  a  Grammer,  and  cannot  at  the  best  be  but  a  schoolemaster. 

Spe.  Prisius^  you  bite  and  whine,  wring  me  on  the  withers,  and 
yet  winch  your  selfe ;  it  is  you  that  goe  about  to  match  your  girle 
with  my  boy,  shee  beeing  more  fit  for  seames  than  for  marriage,  and 
hee  for  a  rod  than  a  wife. 
10  Pris.  Her  birth  requires  a  better  bridegrome  than  such  a 
groome. 

Spe.   And  his  bringing  vp  another  gate    marriage    than    such 
a  minion. 

Fris,   Marie  gup!   I  am  sure  he  hath  no  better  bread  than  is 

41  farme]  fame  BL  F.        43  rewerd  C*:  reward  Q^  Bl.  mods.         48  Dromio 
Q^  mods, :  Romio  Q'^  Bl.  4  to*  0*  Dil, :  too  Q^  BL  F.  7  wince  Dil. 

your  girle]  my  girle  Q^  I  a  gates  Q*  Bl.  IHl. :  gate's  F. ! 

BOND  lU  N 


178  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [acti 

made  of  wheat,  nor  wome  finer  cloth  than  is  made  of  woll,  nor  15 
'    learned  better  manners  than  are  taught  in  schooles. 

Spe.   Nor  your  minxe  had  no  better  grandfather  than  a  Taller, 
who  (as  I  haue  heard)  was  poore  and  proud :   nor  a  better  father 
y    than  your  selfe,  vnlesse  your  wife  borrowed  a  better,  to  make  her 
(laughter  a  Gentlewoman.  30 

Pris,  Twit  not  me  with  my  ancestors,  nor  my  wiues  honestie ;  if 
thou  doest—  (^threatening  him,) 

Spe.  Hold  thy  hands  still,  thou  hadst  best ;  &  yet  it  is  impossible 
now  I  remSber,  for  thou  hast  the  palsy. 

Pris.   My  handes  shake  so,  that  wert  thou  in  place  where,  I  would  35 
teach  thee  to  cog. 

Sp€.  Nay,  if  thou  shake  thy  hands,  I  warrant  thou  canst  not  teach 
anie  to  cog.  But,  neighbour,  let  not  two  olde  fooles  fall  out  for  two 
yong  wantons. 

Pris.   In  deed  it  becdmeth  men  of  our  experience  to  reason,  not  30 
raile :  to  debate  the  matter,  not  to  combat  it 

Spe.  Wei,  then  this  He  tel  thee  friendly,  I  haue  almost  these  two 
yeres  cast  in  my  head,  how  I  might  match  my  princockes  with  StelUos 
daughter,  whom  I  haue  heard  to  be  verie  faire,  and  know  shal  be 
verie  rich :  she  is  his  heire ;  he  doats,  he  is  stooping  old,  and  shortly  35 
must  die ;  yet  by  no  meanes,  either  by  blessing  or  cursing  can  I  win 
my  Sonne  to  be  a  woer,  which  I  know  proceeds  not  of  bashfulnesse 
but  stubbomnesse ;  for  hee  knowes  his  good  though  I  saie  it,  he 
hath  wit  at  wil:  as  for  his  personage,  I  care  not  who  sees  him, 
I  can  tell  you  he  is  able  to  make  a  Ladies  mouth  water  if  she  40 
winke  not 

Pris.  Stay,  Sperantus^  this  is  like  my  case,  for  I  haue  bene  tam- 
pering as  long  to  haue  a  marriage  cdmitted  betweene  my  wench  and 
Memphios  only  son :  they  saie  he  is  as  goodly  a  youth  as  one  shall 
$ee  in  a  Summers  daie,  and  as  neate  a  stripling  as  euer  went  on  45 
neats  leather ;  his  father  will  not  let  him  be  forth  of  his  sight,  he  is 
so  tender  ouer  him ;  he  yet  lies  with  his  mother  for  catching  cold. 
Now  my  pretie  elfe,  as  proud  as  the  day  is  long,  she  wil  none  of  him, 
^  she  forsooth  wil  choose  her  owne  husband;  made  marriages  proue 
^  I'*'  mad  marriages;  shee  will  choose  with  her  eie,  and  like  with  her  50 

hearty  before  she  consent  with  her  tong ;  neither  father  nor  mother, 

15  woU  (^x  wol  C*!  wooll  Bl,  F,\  wool  Dil.  19  her  (^\  your  re$t 

a  I  with  hrfcre  my*  F,  for  before  if  ^  Bl.  mods.  25  ihake,  so  that 

BL  F.  46  be]  UJ3i. :  hie  F. 


$ciii]  MOTHER  BOMBIE;  179 

kith  nor  kin^  shalbe  her  caruer  in  a  husband,  shee  will  fall  too  where 
she  likes  best ;  and  thus  the  chicke  scarce  out  of  the  shell,  cackles  as 
though  she  had  bene  troden  with  an  hundreth  cockes,  and  mother  of 

55  a  thousand  egges. 

Sp€^  Well  then^  this  is  our  best,  seeing  we  knowe  each  others 
minde,  to  deuise  to  goueme  our  owne  children :  for  my  boy.  He 
keepe  him  to  his  bookes,  &  studie  shall  make  him  leaue  to  loue ; 
He  breake  him  of  his  will,  or  his  bones  with  a  cudgell, 

60  Pns*  And  He  no  more  dandle  my  daughter;  shee  shall  prick  oi) 
a  clout  till  her  fingers  ake,  or  He  cause  her  leaue  to  make  my  heart 
ake.  But  in  good  time,  though  with  ill  lucke,  beholde  if  they  be 
not  both  together;  let  vs  stand  close  and  heare  all,  so  shall  we  pre^ 
uent  all,  (^They  stand  aside.y 

Enter  Candius  and  Liuia. 

65      Spe.  {aside).  This  happens  pat,  take  heed  you  cough  not,  Prisius^ 
Fris,   Tush !  spit  not  you,  &  He  warrant,  I,  my  beard  is  as  goodl 
as  a  handkerchiefe. 

Livia.   Sweet  Candius^  if  thy  father  should  see  vs  alone,  would 
he    not   fret?     The    old    man    me    thinkes  should    be    full    of 
70  fumes. 

Cand.  Tush!  let  him  fret  one  heart  string  against  another,  he 
shall  neuer  trouble  the  least  vaine  of  my  little  finger.    The  old  churle  *^ 
thinkes  none  wise,  vnles  he  haue  a  beard  hang  dagling  to  his  wast : 
when  my  face  is  bedaubed  with  haire  as  his,  then  perchance  my  con- 
75  ceit  may  stumble  on  his  staiednes. 

Fris,  {aside).   I,  in  what  booke  read  you  that  lesson  ? 
Spe.   I  know  not  in  what  booke  hee  read  it,  but  I  am  sure  he  was 
a  knaue  to  leame  it 

Cand.  I  beleeue,  faire  Liuia^  if  your  soure  sire  shuld  see  you  with 
80  your  sweet  heart,  he  would  not  be  verie  patient 

Livia.   The  care  is  taken.     He  aske  him  blessing  as  a  father,  but 

neuer  take  counsel  for  an  husband ;  there  is  as  much  oddes  between 

my  golden  thoughts,  &  his  leaden  aduice,  as  betweene  his  siluer 

haires,  and  my  amber  lockes ;  I  know  hee  will  cough  for  anger  that 

85  I  yeeld  not,  but  he  shall  cough  mee  a  foole  for  his  labour. 

Spe.  {aside  to  Pris.).  Where  pickt  your  daughter  that  worke,  out 
of  broad-stitch  ? 

58  him'  Q^  only  60  dandle]  dandie  /%        s.  D.  [They  stand  aside]  suppi. 

nil.  67  haudkercheffe  (? 

N  2 


i8o  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [acti 

Pris.  Out  of  a  flirts  sampler ;  but  let  vs  stay  the  end,  this  is  but 
the  beginning,  you  shall  heare  two  children  well  brought  vp ! 

Cand.  Parents  in  these  daies  are  growen  pieuish,  they  rocke  their  9^ 
children  in  their  cradles  till  they  sleepe,  and  crosse  them  about  their 
bridals  till  their  hearts  ake.     Marriage  among  them  is  become  a 
market    What  will  you  giue  with  your  daughter?    What  loynter 
V     will  you  make  for  your  sonne  ?    And  many  a  match  is  broken  off 
for  a  penie  more  or  lesse,  as  though  they  could  not  afford  their  95 
children  at  such  a  price ;  when  none  should  cheapen  such  ware  but 
affection,  and  none  buy  it  but  loue. 
Spe,  {aside}.  Learnedly  and  scholerlike ! 

Lhna.  In  deed  our  parents  take  great  care  to  make  vs  aske 
blessing,  and  say  grace  when  as  we  are  lyttle  ones,  and  growing  to  loo 
yeeres  of  iudgement,  they  depriue  vs  of  the  greatest  blessing,  and 
the  most  gracious  things  to  our  mindes,  the  libertie  of  our  minds : 
they  giue  vs  pap  with  a  spoon  before  we  can  speak,  and  when  wee 
speake  for  that  wee  loue,  pap  with  a  hatchet :  because  their  fansies 
.  yfly/  beeing  growen  musty  with  hoarie  age,  therefore  nothing  can  relish  105 
A\jJ^       in  their  thoughtes  that  sauours  of  sweet  youth :  they  studie  twentie 
j^^^    .,\         yeeres  together  to  make  vs  grow  as  straight  as  a  wande,  and  in  the 
^  ende  by  bowing  vs,  make  vs  as  crooked  as  a  cammocke.     For  mine 

'         owne  part  (sweet  Candius)  they  shall  pardon  me,  for  I  will  measure 

my  loue  by  min  owne  iudgement,  not  my  fathers  purse  or  peeuish-  no 
hes.    Nature  hath  made  me  his  child,  not  his  slaue :  I  hate  Metnphio 
and  his  son  deadly,  if  I  wist  he  would  place  his  affection  by  his  fathers 
appointment. 
^         FrU,  {aside).   Wittily  but  vnciuily  I 

Can,   Be  of  that  minde  still,  my  faire  Liuia :  let  our  fathers  lay  115 
their  purses  together,  we  our  harts.     I  wil  neuer  woo  where  I  cannot 
loue:  let  StelUo  inioy  his  daughter.     But  what  haue  you  wrought 
here? 

Lima,  Flowers,  fowles,  beasts,  fishes,  trees,  plants,  stones,  and 
what  not  Among  flowers,  cowslops  &  lillyes,  for  our  names  Candius  120 
and  JUuia,  Among  fowles.  Turtles  and  Sparrowes,  for  our  truth  and 
^  ^  '  >*  desires.  Among  beasts,  the  foxe  and  the  Ermin,  for  beautie  and 
policie.  And  among  fishes,  the  cockle  &  the  Tortuse,  because  of 
Venus,    Among  trees,  the  vine  wreathing  about  the  elme,  for  our 

100  as  Q^only        106  twentie]  ao  Q*        X08  make  ts  Q^  only         116  woo] 
woe  Bl,  F,  134  Venus;  among  trees,  the  Dii, :  Venus  among  trees,  the  Q^ : 

Venns  among  trees :  the  Q^  BLfolL  hy  F,\ 


^ 


\^ 


-scui]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  182 

125  embracings.  Among  stones,  Abeston,  which  being  hot  wil  neuer  be 
colde,  for  our  constancies.  Among  plants,  Time  and  harts-ease,  t6 
note  that  if  we  take  time,  we  shall  ease  our  hearts. 

jPris,  {aside},  Theres  a  girle  that  knowes  her  lerripoope. 
Spe.  (aside).   Listen,  &  you  shall  heare  my  sons  learning. 
130      Zivia.  What  booke  is  that? 

Can,  A  fine  pleasant  poet,  who  entreateth  of  the  arte  of  Loue,  and 
of  the  remedie. 

Zivia.  Is  there  arte  in  loue  ? 
Can.  A  short  art  &  a  certain,  three  rules  in  3  lines. 
135      Zivia.   I  praie  thee  repeat  them. 

Can.  Principio  quod  amare  velis  reperire  iahara^ 

Proximus  huic  Ud>ar  est  placidam  exarare  puellanty 
Tertius  vt  longo  tempore  duret  amor. 
Zwia.   I  am  no  Latinist,  Candius^  you  must  conster  it 
140      Can.   So  I  will,  and  pace  it  too:  thou  shalt  be  acquainted  with 
case,  gender,  and  number.   First,  one  must  finde  out  a  mistres  whom 
before  all  others  he  voweth  to  seme.    Secondly,  that  he  vse  al  the 
means  that  he  may  to  obtaine  her.    And  the  last,  with  deserts^  faith, 
and  secrecie,  to  studie  to  keepe  her. 
145      Zivia.  Whats  the  remedie  ? 
Can.   Death. 

Zivia.  What  of  all  the  booke  is  the  conclusion  ? 
Can.  This  one  verse,  Non  caret  effectu  quod  voiuere  duo. 
Zivia.  Whats  that  ? 
150      Can,  Where  two  are  agreed,  it  is  impossible  but  they  must  speed. 
Zivia.  Then  cannot  we  misse:    therefore  giue  mee  thy  hand, 
Candius. 

Pris.  {advancing).  Soft,  Ziuia^  take  mee  with  you,  it  is  not  good 
in  lawe  without  witnes. 
155      Spe.  And  as  I  remember,  there  must  be  two  witnesses;  God  giue 
you  ioy,  Candius^  I  was  worth  the  bidding  to  dinner,  though  not 
worthy  to  be  of  the  counsell. 
Pris.   I  thinke  this  hot  loue  hath  prouided  but  cold  cheere. 
Spe,   Tush!   in  loue  is  no  lacke;   but  blush  not,  Candius^  you 
160  neede  not  bee  ashamed  of  your  cunning :   you  haue  made  loue 
a  booke  case,  and  spent  your  time  well  at  schoole,  learning  to  loue 

125  Abestor  old  eds,  F. :    asbestos  Dil.  134  3  <^\  three  (^  Bl.  mods. 

137  exorarc  Dil.  F. :  enorare  old  eds.  138  doret  Dil. :  dncet  oldeds.  F. 

140  pace  old  eds.  F. :  parse  Dil.  148  effectn  Dil.  F. :  efferto  old  eds,  150 

are]  is  Q^  BL  F.  160  you  QQ :  and  Bl.  DU.  F. 


182  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [acti 

by  arte,  and  hate  against  nature.    But  I  perceiue,  the  worser  childe 
the  better  louer. 

FHs,  And  my  minion  hath  wrought  well,  where  euery  stitch  in 
her  sampler  is  a  pricking  stitch  at  my  heart :  you  take  your  pleasure  165 
on  parents,  they  are  peeuish,  fooles,  churles,  ouergrowen  with  ignor- 
ance>  because  ouerwome  with  age :  litle  shalt  thou  know  tlie  case  of 
k  father,  before  thy  selfe  be  a  mother,  when  thou  shalt  breed  thy 
/^l1  childe  with  continuall  paines,  and  bringing  it  foorth  with  deadly 
,/  pangs,  nurse  it  with  thine  owne  paps,  and  nourish  it  vp  with  motherly  170 

tendemes ;  and  then  finde  them  to  curse  thee  with  their  hearts,  when 
they  shoulde  aske  blessing  on  their  knees,  and  the  coUop  of  thine 
owne  bowels  to  be  the  torture  of  thine  owne  soul ;  with  teares  trick- 
ling  downe  thy  cheeks,  and  drops  of  bloud  falling  from  thy  heart, 
thou  wilt  in  vttering  of  thy  minde  wish  them  rather  vnbome  than  175 
vnnatural^  &  to  haue  had  their  cradles  their  graues  rather  than  thy 
death  their  bridals.  But  I  will  not  dispute  what  thou  shouldst  haue 
done,  but  correct  what  thou  hast  done :  I  perceiue  sowing  is  an  idle 
exercise,  and  that  euerie  daie  there  come  more  thoughtes  into  thine 
head,  than  stitches  into  thy  worke ;  He  see  whether  you  can  spin  180 
a  better  mind  than  you  haue  stitched,  and  if  I  coope  you  not  vp, 
then  let  me  be  the  capon. 

Spe.  As  for  you,  sir  boy,  in  stead  of  poaring  on  a  booke,  you  shall 
holde  the  plough;  He  make  repentance  reape  what  wantonnesse 
hath  sowen.  But  we  are  both  well  serued:  the  sonnes  must  bee  185 
masters,  the  fathers  gaffers ;  what  wee  get  together  with  a  rake,  they 
cast  abroade  with  a  forke ;  and  wee  must  wearie  our  l^ges  to  pur- 
chase our  children  armes.  Well,  seeing  that  booking  is  but  idlenes$e, 
He  see  whether  threshing  be  anie  occupation :  thy  minde  shall  stoope 
to  my  fortune,  or  mine  shall  break  the  lawes  of  nature.  How  like  190 
a  micher  he  standes,  as  though  he  had  trewanted  from  honestie ! 
Get  thee  in,  and  for  the  rest  let  me  alone.    In  vilkine  ! 

Pris.  And  you,  pretie  minx,  that  must  be  fed  with  loue  vpon  sops, 
He  take  an  order  to  cram  you  with  sorrowes  :  get  you  in  without  looke 

or  reply.  Exeunt  Candius,  Liuia.  195 

Spe,   Let  vs  follow,  and  deale  as  rigorously  with  yours,  as  I  will 
with  mine,  and  you  shall  see  that  hot  loue  wil  wax  soone  colde.     He 

163  arte]  hetit  /*.  169  bringing  it  foorth  Q^  only  17a  collops 

(^rest  174  cheeks]  checkes  (^  178  sewing  Dil.  179  comes 

0'  rest  183  poring  Dil.  189  stonpe  C«  £L  F, 


sciiij  MOTHER  BOMBIE  i8j 

tame  the  proud  boy,  and  send  him  as  far  from  his  loue,  as  hee  is       Y    ^ 
from  his  duetie. 
soo     Pris,   Let  vs  about  it,  and  also  go  on  with  matching  them  to  out 
mindes :  it  was  happie  that  we  preuented  that  by  chance,  which  we 
could  neuer  yet  suspect  by  circumstance.  Exeunt. 


ACT.  2. 

SCE.  1. 

(^Enter  at  opposite  sides)  DromIo,  Rislo. 

Drom.  Now,  if  I  could  meete  with  Risio^  it  were  a  world  of 
waggery. 

Ris.  Oh  that  it  were  my  chance,  Ohuiam  dare  Dromio^  to  stumble 
vpon  Dromio^  on  whome  I  doo  nothing  but  dreame. 
5      Dro.   His  knauerie  and  my  wit,  should  make  our  masters  that  are 
wise,  fooles ;  their  chidren  that  are  fooles,  beggers ;  and  vs  two  that 
are  bond,  free. 

Ris*   He  to  cosin,  &  I  to  coniure,  would  make  such  alterations, 
that  our  masters  shuld  serue  themselues ;  the  ideots,  their  children, 
10  serue  vs ;  and  we  to  wake  our  wits  betweene  them  all. 

Dro.   Hem  quhm  opportune^  looke  if  he  drop  not  ful  in  my  dish. 
Ris*  Lupus  in  fabula^  Dromio  imbrace  me,  hugge  me,  kisse  my 
hand,  I  must  make  thee  fortunate. 
Dro.  Risio^  honor  me,  kneele  downe  to  mee,  kisse  my  feet,  I  must 
15  make  thee  blessed. 

Ris.   My  master,  olde  Steiiio^  hath  a  foole  to  his  daughter. 
Dro.   Nay,  my  master,  old  MempMo^  hath  a  foole  to  his  sonne* 
Ris,  I  must  conuey  a  contract. 
Dro,  And  I  must  conuey  a  contract 
20     Ris.   Betweene  her  and  Memphios  sonne,  without  speaking  one  to 
another. 

Dro.  Betweene  him  and  Stellios  daughter,  without  one  speaking 
to  the  other. 
Ris,   Doest  thou  mocke  me,  Dromio  ? 
25      Dro.   Thou  doest  me  else. 
Ris.  Not  I,  for  all  this  is  true. 

3  obTiam  DiL         9  idiots  Bl.  mods.        xa-3  kisse  my  hand,  (^  only        a6 
this]  that  Dil. 


V 


1 84  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [act  11 

Dro.  And  all  this. 

Ris,  Then  are  we  both  driuen  to  our  wits  endes,  for  if  either  of 
them  had  bin  wise,  wee  might  haue  tempered,  if  no  marriage,  yet 
a  close  marriage,  30 

Dro.  Well,  let  vs  sharpen  our  accoimts ;  ther's  no  better  grind- 
A     O        Stone  for  a  young  mans  head  than  to  haue  it  whet  vppon  an  olde 
mans  purse.     Oh  thou  shalt  see  my  knauerie  shaue  lyke  a  rasor ! 

Ris^   Thou  for  the  edge,  and  I  the  point,  wil  make  the  foole 
bestride  our  mistres  backs,  and  then  haue  at  the  bagge  with  the  35 
dudgin  hafte,  that  is,  at  the  dudgen  dagger,  by  which  hanges  his 

» 

tantonie  pouch, 

JDro.  These  old  huddles  haue  such  strong  purses  with  locks,  when 
they  shut  them  they  go  off  like  a  snaphance. 

Ris.   The  olde  fashion  is  best,  a  purse  with  a  ring  round  about  40 
it,  as  a  circle  to  course  a  knaues  hande  from  it    But,  Dramio^  two 
they  saie  may  keep  counsell  if  one  be  awaie :  but  to  conuey  knauerie, 
two  are  too  few,  and  foure  too  many, 

Dro.  And  in  good  time,  looke  where  Haifepeme,  Speranius  boy, 

commeth ;  though  bound  vp  in  decimo  sexto  for  carriage,  yet  a  wit  45 

in  JaUo  for  coosnage.      Single  HoUfepenie^  what  newes   are  now 

curtant? 

Enter  Kalfepenie. 

Half.  Nothing,  but  that  such  double  coystrels  as  you  be,  are 
counterfeit 

Ris.  Are  you  so  dapper?  weele  sende  you  for  an  Halfepenieso 
loafe. 

Half.  I  shall  goe  for  siluer  though,  when  you  shall  bee  nailed  vp 
for  slips. 

Dro.  Thou  art  a  slipstring  He  warrant 

Half  I  hope  you  shall  neuer  slip  string,  but  hang  steddie.  55 

Ris.  Dromio,  looke  heere,  now  is  my  hand  on  my  halfepenie. 

Half  Thou  lyest,  thou  hast  not  a  farthing  to  laie  thy  hands  on, 
I  am  none  of  thine :  but  let  mee  bee  wagging,  my  head  is  full  of 
f  hammers,  &  they  haue  so  maletted  my  wit,  that  I  am  almost  a 

malcontent  60 

Dro.  Why,  whats  the  matter? 

34  wil]  we'll  F,            36  18,  at]  eomtrm  in  all  ids,  40  oldel  olke  Q* 

41  as  Q^:  is  rest       conne  a/teds.         4a  if]  is  Q^  conuay  Bi,  A            46 

ia  (fVOTX.)  QQ I  in  (ifals,)  Bh  F. :  in  folio  (rams.)  Dil.  cootonage  Q^i  cooten- 
age  Bl,  F  :  cozenage  Dtl. 


sci]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  185 

Half*  My  master  hath  a  fine  scholer  to  his  sonne,  Prisius  a  fayre 
lasse  to  his  daughter. 

Dro.  WeUI 
65     Half.  They  two  loue  one  another  deadly. 

Ris.  In  good  time. 

Half   The  fathers  haue  put  them  vp,  vtterly  disliking  the  match, 
and  haue  appointed  the  one  shall  haxit  Memphios  sonne,  the  other 
Steliios  daughter;  this  workes  lyke  waxe,  but  how  it  will  fadge  in  the 
70  end,  the  hen  that  sits  next  the  cocke  cannot  tell. 

JUs.  If  thou  haue  but  anie  spice  of  knauery^  wele  make  thee 
happie. 

Half   Tush !  doubt  not  of  mine,  I  am  as  full  for  my  pitch  as  you 
are  for  yours ;  a  wrens  egge  is  as  ful  of  meat  as  a  goose  eg,  though 
75  there  be  not  so  much  in  it :  you  shal  find  this  head  wel  stuft,  though 
there  went  little  stuife  to  it 

Dro.  Laudo  ingenium^  I  lyke  thy  sconce,  then  harken :  Memphlo 
made  me  of  his  counsell  about  marriage  of  his  sonne  to  Steliios 
daughter;  Stellio  made  Riscio  acquainted  to  plot  a  match  with 
80  Memphios  sonne.    To  be  short,  they  be  both  fooles. 

Half   But  they  are  not  fooles  that  bee  short ;  if  I  thought  thou 
meantst  so.  Seniles  qui  vir  sim,  Thou  shouldst  haue  a  crow  to  pull. 

Ris.   Be  not  angrie,  Halfepenie;  for  fellowship  we  will  be  all 
fooles,  and  for  gaine  all  knaues.    But  why  doest  thou  laugh. 
85      Half  At  mine  owne  conceit  and  quicke  censure. 

Ris.   Whats  the  matter  ? 

Half   Sodainly  me  thought  you  two  were  asses,  and  that  the 
least  asse  was  the  more  asse. 

Ris.  Thou  art  a  foole,  that  cannot  be. 
90     Half  Yea,  my  yong  master  taught  me  to  proue  it  by  learning, 
and  so  I  can  out  of  Ouid  by  a  verse. 

Ris.  Prethee  how  ? 

Half.  You  must  first  for  fashion  sake  confes  your  selues  to  be 
asses. 
95      Dro.  Well. 

Half  Then  stand  you  here,  and  you  there. 

Ris.   Go  to. 

Half  Then  this  is  the  verse  as  I  pomt  it.  Cum  mala  per  longas 
inualuhre  moras.    So  you  see  the  least  asse  is  the  more  asse. 

77  Lando  Q^  Dil.        Memphios  Q*  Bl. :  Memphio*8  DU.  F.  8a  menntst 

QQ  :  meanest  BL  F. :  mean*it  DU.  97  too  (>*  BL  F. 


l/d 


i86  MOTHER  BOMBIfi  [act  it 

His.   Weele  bite  thee  for  an  ape,  if  thou  bob  vs  lyke  asses.    But  loo 
to  end  all,  if  thou  wilt  ioyne  with  vs,  we  will  make  a  match  betweene 
the  two  fooles,  for  that  must  be  our  tasks ;  and  thou  shalt  deuise  to 
couple  Candius  &  Liuia^  by  ouer-reaching  their  fathers. 

Half,   Let  me  alone,  Non  enim  mea  pigra  iuuentus^  there's  matter 

in  this  noddle.  105 

Enter  Lucio. 

But  looke  where  Prisius  boy  comes,  as  fit  as  a  pudding  for  a  dogs 
mouth. 

Lucio.  Pop  three  knaues  in  a  sheath,  He  make  it  a  right  Tunbridge 
case,  and  be  the  bodkin. 

His.   Nay,  the  bodkin  is  heere  alreadie,  you  must  be  the  knife.       no 

Htzif.  I  am  the  bodkin,  looke  well  to  your  eares,  I  must  boare 
them. 

Dro.  Mew  thy  tongue,  or  weele  cut  it  out;  this  I  speake 
Representing  the  person  of  a  knife^  as  thou  didst  that  in  shadow  of 
a  bodkin.  115 

Lucio.  I  must  be  gone;  Tcedet^  it  irketh,  Oportet,  it  behoueth: 
my  wits  worke  like  barme,  alias  yest,  alias  sizing,  alias  rising,  alias 
Gods  good. 

Half.   The  new  wine  is  in  thine  head,  yet  was  hee  faine  to 
take  this  metaphor  from  ale;  and  now  you  talke  of  ale^  let  vs  all  120 
to  the  wine. 

Dro.  Foure  makes  a  messe,  and  wee  haue  a  messe  of  masters 
that  must  be  cosned ;  let  vs  lay  our  heads  together,  they  are  married 
and  cannot 

Jfaif.   Let  vs  consult  at  the  Taueme,  where  after  to  the  health  of  125 
Metnphio^  drinke  we  to  the  life  of  Stellio^  I  carouse  to  Prisius,  & 
brinch  you  mas  Sperantus ;  we  shall  cast  vp  our  accounts,  and 
discharge  our  stomackes,  like  men  that  can  disgest  any  thing. 

Lucio.   I  see  not  yet  what  you  go  about. 

Dro.  Lucio^  that  can  pearce  a  mud  wall  of  twentie  foote  thicke,  130 
would  make  vs  beleeue  he  cannot  see  a  candle  through  a  paper 
lanthome ;  his  knauerie  is  beyond  Ela^  &  yet  he  sayes  he  knowes  not 
Gam  vt. 

100  thee  Q^  only  104  iunentusl  %,e,  juTentus:  iniientns  oldeds,  F,  (a  turned 
n)  :  hence  inveotio  Z>f7.  108, 116  Lac.  Dil.F. :  lAVL.0Uleds.  116  irketh,  Q^ 
DiL\  liketh.  (?  Bl,  F.  117  to  before  worke  Q^  Bl.  mods,,  owing  to  (^  om, 

itop  at  behoaeth         123  cofiied  ^ :  cosoned  (^\  cooiened  Bl.  F. :  cozened  DU. 
127  cast  vp  Bl.  mods.}  cast  ts  QQ  ;  but  cf  v.  i.  3. 


te.i]  MOTHER  B0MBI£  187 

Lucio.  I  am  readie :   if  anie  cosnage  be  ripe,   He  shake  the 
135  tree. 

Half*  Nay,  I  hope  to  see  thee  so  strong,  to  shake  three  trees  at 
once. 

Dro.   Wee  bume  time,  for  I  must  giue  a  reckning  of  my  dayes 
worke;  let  vs  close  to  (to)  the  bush  ixd  deliberandum. 
140     Half.   In  deede  Inter  pocula  philosophandum^  it  is  good  to  plea 
among  pots. 

J^is.  Thine  will  be  the  worst ;  I  feare  we  shall  leaue  a  halfepenie 
in  hand. 

Half  Why  sayest  thou  that  ?  thou  hast  left  a  print  deeper  in  thy 
145  hand  alreadie  than  a  halfpenie  canne  leaue,  vnles  it  should  sing  worse 
than  an  hot  3nx>n. 

Lucio.  All  friendes,  and  so  let  vs  sing :  tis  a  pleasant  thing  to  goe 
into  the  taueme  cleering  the  throate. 

Song. 

Ontnes.     TO  Bacchus/  To  thy  Table 

Thou  calFst  euery  drunken  Rabble, 


150 


We  already  are  stifTe  Drinkers, 
Then  seale  vs  for  thy  iolly  Skinckers. 
Dro.  Wine,  O  Wine! 

O  luyce  Diuine! 
le^  How  do'st  thou  the  Nowle  refine! 

J^ts*   Plump  thou  mak'st  mens  Rubie  faces, 
And  from  Girles  canst  fetch  embraces, 
Nal/i  By  thee  our  Noses  swell, 

With  sparkling  Carbuncle. 
i5o  Luc.  O  the  deare  bloud  of  Grapes,  {  ^        ^ 

Tumes  us  to  Anticke  shapes 
Now  to  shew  trickes  like  Apes. 
Dro,  Now  Lion-like  to  rore. 

/^is.  Now  Goatishly  to  whore. 

i(t^  Half.  Now  Hoggishly  ith'  mire. 

Luc.  Now  flinging  Hats  ith'  fire. 

Omnes.    Id  Bacchus/  at  thy  Table, 

Make  vs  of  thy  Reeling  Rabble. 

Exeunt  (Jnto  taverti). 

140  philosophandam,  BLmods,\  philosophundnm  QQ  X44  ^liy,  layest 

thou  that  thou  all  eds,  S.  D.  SoNG,  8tQ.Jirst  in  Blount.     QQ  have  not  even 

Song 


i88  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actii 

ScE.  2. 

Enter  Memphio  alone. 

Metnp,   I  maruell  I  heare  no  newes  of  Dromio ;  either  he  slackes 

the  matter,  or  betrayes  his  master ;  I  dare  not  motion  anie  thing  to 

Stellio^  till  I  knowe  what  my  boy  hath  don ;  He  hunt  him  out,  if  the 

loitersacke  be  gone  springing  into  a  taueme,  He  fetch  him  reeling 

out  Exit  {into  tavern),  5 

Enter  Stellio  alone. 

Stel,  Without  doubt  Hisio  hath  gone  beyond  himselfe,  in  casting 
beyond  the  Moone ;  I  feare  the  boy  be  runne  mad  with  studying,  for 
I  know  hee  loued  me  so  well,  that  for  my  fauour  hee  will  venture  to 
runne  out  of  his  wits  ;  and  it  may  be,  to  quicken  his  inuention,  hee 
is  gone  into  this  luy-bush,  a  notable  neast  for  a  grape  owle.  He  10 
iirret  him  out,  yet  in  the  end  vse  him  friendly :  I  cannot  be  merrie 
till  I  heare  whats  done  in  the  marriages.  Exit  {into  tavern). 

Enter  Prisius  alone. 

Pris.   I  thinke  Lucio  be  gone  a  squirelling,  but  H6  squirell  him 

for  it :  I  sent  him  on  my  arrande,  but  I  must  goe  for  an  answere  my 

selfe.    I  haue  tied  vp  the  louing  worme  my  daughter,  and  will  see  15 

whether  fansie  can  worme  faosie  out  of  her  head.    This  green  nose- 

gaie  I  feare  my  boy  hath  smelt  to,  for  if  he  get  but  a  penny  in  his 

purse,  he  tumes  it  sodainly  into  Argentum  potabile ;  I  must  search 

euery  place  for  him,  for  I  stand  on  thomes  till  I  heare  what  he  hath 

done.  Eocit  {into  tavern).  20 

Enter  Sperantus  alone. 

Spe.  Well,  be  as  bee  may  is  no  banning.  I  thinke  I  haue 
charmde  my  yong  master :  a  hungry  meale,  a  ragged  coate,  &  a  drie 
cudgell,  haue  put  him  quite  beside  his  loue  and  his  logick  too  besides 
his  pigsnie  is  put  vp,  &  therefore  now  He  let  him  take  the  aire,  and 
follow  Stellios  daughter  with  all  his  learning,  if  he  meane  to  be  my  25 
heire.  The  boy  hath  wit  sance  measure,  more  than  needs;  cats 
meat  &  dogs  meate  inough  for  the  vantage.  Well,  without  Halfe- 
penie  all  my  witte  is  not  woorth  a  dodkin:  that  mite  is  miching 
in  this  groue,  for  as  long  as  his  name  is  Halfepenie^  he  will  bee 
banquetting  for  the  other  Halfpenie.  Eocit  {into  tavern).  30 

5  s. D.  Exeunt  (^  Bl.            11  finet  M  eds.  F.x  ferret  Dil.  17  to]  too 

(^  Bl.  F.            18  10  bdan  niddminly  Q* :  so  snddcnly  BL  mods.  23  too] 

to  Q^           34  hb  ^  cmy           a6  sance  old  eds.  F. :  sans  Dil.  30  the  other 
Bl.  mods. :  thether  ^:  tbother  (^ 


sciii]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  189 

Candius,  Silena. 

{Enter  Candius.) 

Can,  He  must  needs  goe  that  the  deuill  driues!  a  father? 
a  fiend  I  that  seekes  to  place  affection  by  appointment,  &  to  force 
loue  by  compulsion.  I  have  swome  to  woo  Sylena^  but  it  shall  be 
so  coldly,  that  she  shall  take  as  small  delight  in  my  wordes,  as  I  do 
5  contentment  in  his  commandement  He  teach  him  one  schoole 
tricke  in  loue.  But  behold,  who  is  that  that  commeth  out  of  SUllios 
house  ?  it  should  seem  to  be  Silena  by  her  attire. 

Enter  Silena. 

By  her  face  I  am  sure  it  is  she,  oh  fiaire  face  !  oh  louely  counten- 
ance!   How  now,   CandiuSy  if  thou  begin  to  slip  at  beautie  on 

10  a  sodaine,  thou  wilt  surfet  with  carousing  it  at  the  last.  RemSber 
that  Liuia  is  faithfull ;  I,  and  let  thine  eyes  witnesse  Siiena  is 
amiable!  Heere  shall  I  please  my  father  and  my  selfe:  I  wyll 
leame  to  be  obedient,  &  come  what  will.  He  make  a  way ;  if  shee 
seeme  coy,  He  practise  all  the  arte  of  loue,  if  I  (finde)  her  coming,  all 

15  the  pleasures  of  loue. 

SiL  My  name  is  Siiena^  I  care  not  who  knowe  it,  so  I  doo  not : 
my  father  keeps  me  close,  so  he  does ;  and  now  I  baue  stolne  out, 
so  I  haue,  to  goe  to  olde  Mother  Bambie  to  know  my  fortune,  so 
I  wil ;  for  I  haue  as  fayre  a  face  as  euer  trode  on  shoo  sole,  and  as 

ao  free  a  foote  as  euer  lookt  with  two  eyes. 

Can,  {aside).  \Vhat?  I  thinke  she  is  lunatike  or  foolish !  Thou 
art  a  foole,  Candius ;  so  faire  a  face  cannot  bee  the  scabbard  of 
a  foolish  minde ;  mad  she  may  bee,  for  commonly  in  beautie  so  rare, 
there  fals  passions  extreame.    Loue  and  beautie  disdaine  a  meane, 

35  not  therefore  because  beautie  is  no  vertue,  but  because  it  is  happi- 
nes ;  and  we  schollers  know  that  vertue  is  not  to  be  praised,  but 
honored.  I  wil  put  on  my  best  grace. — {To  Silena.)  Sweete 
wench,  thy  face  is  louely,  thy  bodie  comely,  &  all  that  the  eyes 
can  see  inchanting !   you  see  how,  vnacquainted,  I  am  bold  to 

30  boord  you. 

4  shall  (^  only  13  a  way  Dil,  F, :  away  oldeds,  14  if  I  finde  her 

coming]  if  I  her  cnnning  oldeds, :  if  canning  Dil,  F,^  the  former  proposing  coining 
for  cunning  in  a  note  18  Mother  Q^  only  21  lunatike  oldeds, :  lunatic 

Dil, :  a  lonaticke  F, 


I90  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [acth 

Si/,  My  father  boordes  mee  alreadie,  therefore  I  care  not  if  your 
name  were  Geoffrey. 

Can,  Shee  raues,  or  ouer-reaches. — I  am  one,  sweet  soule,  that 
loues  you,  brought  hether  by  reporte  of  your  beautie,  and  here 
languisheth  with  your  rarenesse.  35 

.SrV.   I  thanke  you  that  you  would  call. 

Can,  I  will  alwaies  call  on  such  a  saint  that  hath  power  to  release 
my  sorrowes ;  yeeld,  fayre  creature,  to  loue. 

^7.   I  am  none  of  that  sect 

Can,   The  louing  sect  is  an  auncient  sect,  and  an  honorable,  and  40 
therefore  (loue)  should  bee  in  a  person  so  perfect. 

&7.   Much! 

Can,    I  loue  thee  much,  giue  mee  one  worde  of  comfort. 

Sil,   I  faith,  sir,  no !  and  so  tell  your  master. 

Can,   I  haue  no  master,  but  come  to  make  choise  of  a  mistres.       45 

Sil,   A  ha,  are  you  there  with  your  beares  ? 

Can.  {aside),  Doubtles  she  is  an  idiot  of  the  newest  cut !  He 
once  more  trye  hir. — I  have  loued  thee  long,  Silena, 

Sil,    In  your  tother  hose. 

Can,  {aside}.   Too  simple  to  be  naturall :  too  senslesse  to  bee  fo 
arteficiall. — ^You  sayd  you  went  to  know  your  fortune :  I  am  a  scholler, 
and  am  cunning  in  palmistry. 

Sil.   The  better  for  you,  sir;  heres  my  hand,  whats  a  clocke? 

Can,  The  line  of  life  is  good,  Fenus  mount  very  perfect;  you 
shall  haue  a  schoUer  to  your  first  husband.  55 

Si/,  You  are  well  scene  in  cranes  durt,  your  father  was  a  poulter. 
Ha,  ha,  hal 

Can.   Why  laugh  you  ? 

Si/.   Because  you  should  see  my  teeth. 

Can,  {aside},   Alas,  poore  wench,  I  see  now  also  thy  folly ;  a  60 
fiEtyre  foole  is  lyke  a  fresh  weed,  pleasing  leaues  and  soure  iuyce. 
I  will  not  yet  leaue  her,  shee  may  dissemble. — {A/oud,)  I  cannot 
choose  but  loue  thee. 

Si/,   I  had  thought  to  aske  you. 

Can,    Nay  then  farewell,  either  too  proud  to  accept,  or  too  simple  65 
to  vnderstand. 

Si/,  You  need  not  bee  so  crustie,  you  are  not  so  hard  bakt. 

40  The  (^i  Thy  rest  41  loue  here  first  47  [aside]  this  and  the 

two  asides  below  marked  first  in  Dilke  56  cranes]  caznes  Q^  61  leaves} 

leases,  Q*  Bl,  F,  spoiling  sense  65  too*]  to  (^  67  bakt]  so  I  correct 

backt  ofoldeds.  F. :  baked  Dil. 


5CII1]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  191 

Can,   Now  I  perceiue  thy  folly,  who  hath  rakt  together  all  the 

odde  blinde  phrases,  that  helpe  them  that  knowe  not  howe  to  dis- 

70  course ;  but  when  they  cannot  aunswere  wisely,  eyther  with  gybing 

couer  their  rudenesse,  or  by  some  newe  coyned  by-word  bewraie 

theyr  peeuishnesse.     I  am  glad  of  this :  now  shall  I  have  coulour  to 

refuse  the  match,  and  my  father  reason  to  accept  of  Liuia :  I  will 

home,  and  repeate  to  my  father  oure  wise  incounter,  and  hee  shall 

75  perceiue  there  is  nothing  so  fulsome  as  a  shee  foole.  JExif. 

Si/.   Good  God,  I  thinke  Gentlemen  had  neuer  lesse  wit  in  a 

yeere.    Wee  maides  are  madde  wenches;  we  gird  them  and  flout 

them  out  of  all  scotch  and  notch,  and  they  cannot  see  it.     I  will 

knowe  of  the  olde  woman  whether  I  bee  a  maide  or  no,  and  then, 

^  if  I  bee  not,  I  must  needes  be  a  man.    (^Knocks  at  Mother  Bombie's 

door,)    God  be  heere. 

Enter  Mother  Bombie. 
Bom,  Whose  there  ? 
.S/7.   One  that  would  be  a  maide. 

Bom,   If  thou  be  not,  it  is  impossible  thou  shuldst  be,  and  a  shame 
S5  thou  art  not. 

SU,   They  saie  you  are  a  witch. 
Bom,    They  lie,  I  am  a  cunning  woman. 
&7.  Then  tell  mee  some  thing. 
Bom,   Holde  vp  thy  hande ;  not  so  high : — 
9®  Thy  father  knowes  thee  not, 

Thy  mother  bare  thee  not, 
Falsely  bred,  truely  begot: 
Choise  of  two  husbands,  but  neuer  tyed  in  bandes, 
Because  of  loue  and  naturall  bondes. 
95      SU,    I  thanke  you  for  nothing,  because  I  vnderstand  nothing: 
though  you  bee  as  olde  as  you  are,  yet  am  I  as  younge  as  I  am,  and 
because  that  I  am  so  fayre,  therefore  are  you  so  fowle ;  &  so  farewell 
frost,  my  fortune  naught  me  cost  Eocit, 

Bom,    Farewell  faire  foole,  little  doest  thou  know  thy  hard  fortune, 
100  but  in  the  end  thou  shalt,  &  that  must  bewraie  what  none  can 
discouer :  in  the  mean  season  I  wil  professe  cunning  for  all  commers. 

Exit, 

68  rackt  ^-  Bl,  F. :  raked  Dil,  71  by-word  Bl,  mods, :    bny  worde  QQ 

76  Sil.  nil.  F, :  Liu.  o/dgds,  84  shuldst  Q^ :  should  Q'^  BL  F, :  Dil,  italicizes 

be  not,  shouldst  be,  and  zxi  not  90-4  Thy  father  .  .  .  bondes]  this  and  the 

other  oracles  of  Mother  Bombie  (iii.  i  and  ^^  v.  2),  printed  as  continuous  prose  in  old 
eds.j  luere  arranged  according  to  the  doggrel  rhyme  by  Dilke  in  1814  92 

falsely  QQ  Dil,  x  falsly  Bl, :  Fastly  F. 


.^  f> 


19?  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actii 

SCE.   4. 

(^Enter)  Dromio,  Risio,  Lucio,  Halfepenie. 

Dro,   We  were  all  taken  tardie. 

Jiis,   Our  masters  will  be  ouertaken  if  they  tarry. 

Half.   Now  must  euerie  one  by  wit  make  an  excuse,  and  everie 
excuse  must  bee  coosnage. 

Lucio.   Let  vs  remember  our  complot  5 

Dro.   We  will  all  plod  on  that ;  oh  the  wine  hath  tumd  my  wit 
to  vineger. 

Ris.   You  meane  tis  sharpe. 

Half.   Sharpe?     He  warrant  twill  seme  for  as  good  sauce   to 
knauerie  as —  lo 

Lucio.   As  what  ? 

Half.   As  thy  knauerie  meat  for  his  wit. 

Dro.   We  must  all  giue  a  reckning  for  our  dayes  trauell. 

Jiis.   Tush!  I  am  glad  we  scapt  the  reckning  for  our  liquor.     If 
you  be  examined  how  we  met,  sweare  by  chance;  for  so  they  met,  15 
and  therefore  will  beleeue  it:  if  how  much  we  drunke,  let  them 
answere  them  selues ;  they  know  best  because  they  paid  it. 
'  Half.   We  must  not  tarry,  adeundum  est  tnihi^  I  must  go  and  cast 

this  matter  in  a  comer. 

Dro.   Iprct^  sequar;  a  bowle,  and  He  come  after  with  a  broome ;  ao 
euerie  one  remember  his  que. 

J^is.    I,  and  his  k,  or  else  we  shall  thriue  ill. 

Half   When  shall  we  meete  ? 

Ris.    To  morrow,  fresh  and  fasting. 

Dro.    Fast  eating  our  meate,  for  we  haue  dmnke  for  to  morow,  35 
&  to  morow  we  must  eat  for  to  day. 

Half.   Away,  away,  if  our  masters  take  vs  here,  the  matter  is 
mard. 

Lucio.   Let  vs  euerie  one  to  his  taske.  Exeunt 

ScE.  5. 

{Enter)  Memphio,  Steluo,  Prisius,  Sperantus. 

Memp.    How  luckily  we  met  on  a  sodaine  in  a  taueme,  that 
dmnke  not  together  almost  these  thirtie  yeeres. 

I  were  ^:  ftre  rest  la  knauerie  QQ\  knanerie's  rest  ao  Dro.  om, 

old  eds, :  supplied  Dil.  F.         I  presequar  Q}- :  Ipreseqnam  Q^  Bl. :  I,  prse  sequar 
Dil.  F.  a  I  cue  Dil.  39  vs  om.  Dil,  1  Inck&y  Q}^ :  quickly  rest 


scv]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  193 

SUL  A  taueme  is  the  Randeuous,  the  Exchange,  the  staple  for 

good  fellowes :  I  haue  heard  my  great  grandfather  tell  how  his  great 

5  grandfather  shoulde  saie,  that  it  was  an  olde  prouerbe,  when  his  greate 

grandfEither  was  a  childe^  that  it  was  a  good  winde  that  blew  a  man 

to  the  wine. 

Pris.  The  olde  time  was  a  good  time!    Ale  was  an  ancient 

drinke,  and  accounted  of  our  ancestors  autentical ;  Gascone  wine 

TO  was  liquor  for  a  Lord^  Sack  a  medicine  for  the  sicke ;  and  I  may 

tell  you,  he  that  had  a  cup  of  red  wine  to  his  oysters,  was  hoysted  in 

the  Queenes  subsidie  booke. 

Spe.   I,  but  now  ^you  see  to  what  loosenes  this  age  is  growen,  our 

boies  carouse  sack  like  double  beere,  and  saith  that  which  doth  an 

15  old  man  good,  can  do  a  yong  man  no  harme :  old  men  (say  they)  eat 

pap,  why  shoulde  not  children  drinke  sacke  ?  their  white  heads  haue 

cosned  time  out  of  mind  our  ydg  yeres. 

Memp.   Well !  the  world  is  wanton  since  I  knew  it  first ;  our  boyes 

put  as  much  nowe  in  their  bellies  in  an  houre,  as  would  cloath  theyr 

20  whole  bodies  in  a  yeere:   wee  haue  paide  for  their  tipling  eight 

shillinges,  and  as  I  haue  hearde,  it  was  as  much  as  bought  Rufus^ 

sometime  king  of  this  land,  a  paire  of  hose. 

Pris.  1st  possible  ? 

SteL   Nay,  tis  true;  they  saie  Ale  is  out  of  request,  tis  hogges        / 
35  porredge,  broth  for  beggers,  a  caudle  for  cimstables,  watchmens 
mouth  glew ;  the  better  it  is,  the  more  like  bird  lime  it  is,  and  neuer 
makes  one  staid  but  in  the  stockes. 

Metnp,    He  teach  my  wag-halter  to  know  grapes  from  barley. 

Pris.  And  I  mine  to  discerne  a  spigot  from  a  faucet 
30     Spt.  And  I  mine  to  iudge  the  difference  between  a  black  boule 
and  a  siluer  goblet 

Siel,   And  mine  shall  learne  the  oddes  betweene  a  stand  and 
a  hogs-head;  yet  I  cannot  choose  but  laugh  to  see  how  my  wag 
aunswered  mee,  when  I  stroke  him  for  drinking  sacke. 
35      Pris,   Why  what  sayd  he? 

Sttl,  '  Master,  it  is  the  soueraigntest  drinke  in  the  world,  and  the 
safest  for  all  times  and  weathers ;  if  it  thunder,  though  all  the  Ale 
and  Beere  in  the  towne  tume,  it  will  be  constant ;  if  it  lighten,  and 

9  authentical  Bl.  mods,  Gascoyne  Bl,  F, :  Gascoign  Dil,  14  taith 

QQ.  '"  say*  B^'  mods,  16  children  O*:  young  men  rest  {cf,  v.  3.  236)  17 

cosned  (^ :  counted  rest         19  nowe  ^ :  wine  rest        20-1  wee  haue j>aide  . . . 
shillinges  (^  only  34  strooke  C*  rest  36-43  inv,  com,  first  F. 

BOND    UI  O 


t. 


■0 


194  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actii/sc.  v 

that  any  fire  come  to  it,  it  is  the  aptest  wine  to  bum,  and  the  most 
wholesomest  when  it  is  burnt.  So  much  for  Summer.  If  it  freeze,  40 
why  it  is  so  hot  in  operation,  that  no  Ise  can  congeale  it ;  if  it 
rayne,  why  then  he  that  cannot  abide  the  heate  of  it,  may  put  in 
water.  So  much  for  winter.*  And  so  ranne  his  way,  but  He  ouer- 
take  him. 

Sfe.    Who    woulde   thinke   that   my  hoppe    on    my    thumbe,  45 
Jlalf^niey  scarse  so  high  as  a  pint  pot,  wold  reason  the  matter? 
but  hee  leamde  his  leere  of  my  sonne,  his  young  master,  whom 
I  haue  brought  vp  at  Oxford,  and  I  thinke  must  leame  heere  in 
Kent  at  Ashford. 

ATemp,   Why  what  sayd  he  ?  50 

Sfe.  Hee  boldly  rapt  it  out.  Sine  Cerere  &*  Baccho  friget  Venus, 
without  wine  and  sugar  his  veins  wold  waxe  colde. 

Memp,   They  were  all  in  a  pleasant  vaine  1    But  I  must  be  gone, 
and  take  account  of  my  boyes  businesse ;  farewell,  neighbours,  God 
knowes  when  we  shall  meete  againe ! — {Aside.")    Yet  I  have  dis-  55 
couered  nothing :  my  wine  hath  been  my  wittes  friende,  I  longe  to 
beare  what  Dramio  hath  done.  Exit 

Siel.   I  cannot  staie,  but  this  good  fellowshippe  shall  cost  mee  the 
setting  on  at  our  next  meeting.— (^5/V/(f.)     I  am  gladde  I  blabd 
nothing  of  the  marriage,  now  I  hope  to  compas  it    I  know  my  boy  60 
hi^th  bin  bungling  about  it  Exit 

Fris,  Let  vs  all  goe,  for  I  must  to  my  clothes  that  hang  on  the 
tenters :  {Aside,)  my  boy  shall  hang  with  them,  if  hee  aunswere  mee 
not  his  dayes  worke.  Exit 

Spe.   If  all  bee  gone,  He  not  staie :  Halfepenie  I  am  sure  hath  done  65 
mee  a  pennie  woorth  of  good,  else  He  spend  his  bodie  in  buying 
a  rod.  Exit 

ACT.   3. 

dCS.    1. 

{Enter)  MiESTius.    Serena. 

Mastius.    Sweet  sister,  I  know  not  how  it  commeth  to  passe,  but 
I  finde  in  my  selfe  passions  more  than  brotherly. 
Ser.  And  I,  deare  brother,  finde  my  thoughts  intangled  with 

49  at  ^ :  of  rest        51  Cerext  Dil, :  Cere  old  tds,  F.        55-63  the  asides  here 
Jirst  marked  in  Dilke 


Acriii,sci]  MOTHER  BOMBIE:  195 

affections  beyonde  nature,  which  so  flame  into  my  distempered  head, 
5  that  I  can  neither  without  danger  smother  the  fire,  nor  without 
modestie  disclose  my  furie. 

Mast  Our  parents  are  pore,  our  loue  vnnaturall :  what  can  then 
happen  to  make  vs  happie  ? 

Ser.   Onely  to  be  content  with  our  fathers  mean  estate,  to  combat 
10  against  our  own  intemperate  desires,  and  yeld  to  the  succes  of 
fortune,  who  though  she  hath  framd  vs  miserable,  cannot  make  vs 
monstrous. 

Mast   It  is  good  counsel,  faire  sister,  if  the  necessitie  of  loue. 
could  be  releeued  by  counsell.    Yet  this  is  our  comfort,  that  these 
15  vnnaturall  heates  haue  stretched  themselues  no  further  than  thoughts. 
Vnhappie  me  that  they  should  stretch  so !  r 

Ser.   That  which  nature  warranteth  laws  forbid.      Straunge  it 
seemeth  in  sense,  that  because  thou  art  mine,  therefore  thou  must 
not  be  mine. 
20     Mast.   So  it  is,  Serena  ;  the  neerer  we  are  in  bloud,  the  further 

wee  must  be  from  loue ;  and  the  greater  the  kindred  is,  the  lesse      ;  -,  5 
the  kindnes  must  be ;  so  that  between  brothers  &:  sisters  superstition 
hath  made  affection  cold,  between  strangers  custome  hath  bred  loue 
exquisite. 
35      Ser.   They  say  there  is  hard  by  an  old  cunning  woman,  who  can 
tell  fortunes,  expound  dreames,  tell  of  things  that  be  lost,  and  deuine 
of  accidents  to  come :  she  is  called  the  good  woman,  who  yet  neuer 
did  hurt. 
Mcest.   Nor  anie  good,  I  thmke,  Serena;  yet  to  satisfie  thy  mipde 
30  we  will  see  what  she  can  saie. 
Ser.   Good  brother  let  vs. 
Mast   Who  is  within  ? 

Enter  Mother  Bombie. 

Bom.   The  dame  of  the  house  ! 

Mast.   She  might  haue  said  the  beldam,  for  her  face,  and  yeeres, 
35  and  attire. 

Ser.   Good  mother  tell  vs,  if  by  your  cunning  you  can,  what  shall 
become  of  my  brother  and  me. 

4  into]  in  Dil.  5  without*]  with  Dil.  9  comhat  Q^  17-9  Ser. 

That ...  be  mine.  (^  only.  Dil.  suspecting  error  in  Q*  Bl.  prefixed  Ser.  to  Yet 
this  .  . .  stretch  so  in  preceding  speech.  F.  gave  the  true  reading  from  Q^  in  his 
notes 

O  2 


[■>/ ' 


t96  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actiii 

Bom,  Let  me  see  your  hands,  and  looke  on  me  stedfastly  with 
your  eyes. 

You  shall  be  married  to  morow  hand  in  hand,  ¥^ 

By  the  lawes  of  God,  Nature,  &  the  land, 

Your  parents  shall  be  glad,  &  giue  you  their  lande, 

You  shal  each  of  you  displace  a  foole. 

&  both  together  must  releeue  a  foole. 

If  this  be  not  true,  call  me  olde  foole.  45 

Mast   This  is  my  sister,  marrie  we  cannot :  our  parents  are  poore, 
and  haue  no  land  to  giue  vs :  each  of  vs  is  a  foole  to  come  for  counsell 
to  such  an  olde  foole. 
\\,  &r.   These  doggrell  rimes  and  obscure  words,  comming  out  of 

^  *"  the  mouth  of  such  a  weather-beate  witch,  are  thought  diuinations  5® 

of  some  holy  spirite,  being  but  dreames  of  decayed  braines :  for  mine 
owne  parte,  I  would  thou  mightest  sit  on  that  stoole,  till  he  &  I  marrie 
by  lawe. 

Bom,  I  saie  Mother  Bombie  neuer  speakes  but  once,  and  yet  neuer 
spake  vntruth  once.  55 

Ser,  Come,  brother,  let  vs  to  our  poore  home;  this  is  our 
comfort,  to  bewraie  our  passions,  since  we  cannot  inioy  our  loue. 

Mast,  Content,  sweet  sister ;  and  learne  of  me  hereafter,  that 
these  olde  sawes  of  such  olde  hags,  are  but  false  fires  to  leade  one 
out  of  a  plaine  path  into  a  deepe  pit  Exeunt,  6o 

ScE.  2. 

Dromio.    Risio.    Halfepenie.    Luceo. 
{Enter  Dromio  and  Riscio.) 

Dro,  Ingenium  quondam  fuerat  pretiosius  aura :  the  time  was 
wherein  wit  would  worke  like  waxe,  and  crock  vp  golde  like  honnie. 

Eis,  At  nunc  barbaries  grandis  habere  nihil^  but  nowe  wit  and 
honestie  buy  nothing  in  the  market. 

Dro,   What  Eisio^  how  spedst  thou  after  thy  potting?  5 

EU,  Nay,  my  master  rong  all  in  the  taueme,  &  thrust  all  out  in 
the  house.    But  how  spedst  thou  ? 

Dro,    I,  it  were  a  dayes  worke  to  discourse  it :  he  spake  nothing 

41  hy  QQ\  and  by  BL  mods,  God,  nature  (^  BL  mods. :  good  nature  (^ 

45  then  Ufore  call  Q^  Bl,  mods,  57  to  bewraie  so  alli  qy,  ?  not  to  bewrmie 
inioy  our  lone  (^;    enioy  them  rest  ScB.  2]  See.  Z  (?  BL  i 

pretiosins  Bl,  F, :  pretiotins  QQ :  pretiosns  DU,  3  barbaries]  barbarie  est 

QQ  Bl,  F, :  barbana  est  DU,  6  rang  BL  mods. 


sc.li]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  197 

but  sentences,  but  they  were  vengible  long  ones,  for  when  one  word 
xo  was  out,  hee  made  pause  of  a  quarter  long,  till  he  spake  another. 
Jits.  Why  what  did  he  in  all  that  time  ? 
Dro.    Breake  interiections  lyke  winde,  as  eho^  ho^  to, 
Ms,   And  what  thou  ? 

I?ro,  Aunswere  him  in  his  owne  language,  as  euax,  vah^  hut, 
15     Ms.   These  were  coniunctions  rather  than  interiections.    But  what 
of  the  plot  ? 

Dro,   As  we  concluded,  I  tolde  him  that  I  vnderstood  that  Siiena 

was  verie  wise,  and  could  sing  exceedingly;  that  my  deuise  was, 

seeing  ^^aW  his  sonne  a  proper  youth,  &  could  also  sing  sweetly,  that 

ao  he  should  come  in  the  nicke  when  she  was  singing,  and  answere  her. 

Jits,   Excellent! 

J)ro,   Then  hee  asked  how  it  should  be  deuised  that  she  might 

come  abroade :  I  tolde  (him)  that  was  cast  alreadie  by  my  meanes : 

then  the  song  beeing  ended,  and  they  seeing  one  another,  noting  the 

25  apparell,  and  marking  the  personages,  he  should  call  in  his  sonne  for 

feare  he  should  ouer-reach  his  speech. 

Ris,   Very  good. 

J)ro,   Then  that  I  had  gotten  a  young  Gentleman,  that  resembled 

his  sonne  in  yeeres  and  fauour,  that  hauing  Accius  apparell  should 

30  court  Siiena ;  whome  shee  finding  wise,  would  after  that  by  small 

intreatie  be  won  without  mo  wordes ;  &  so  the  marriage  clapt  vp  by 

this  cosnage,  and  his  sonne  neuer  speake  word  for  himselfe. 

Jits,   Thou  boy !  so  haue  I  done  in  euerie  point,  for  the  song,  the 

calling  her  in,  &  the  hoping  that  another  shall  woo  Accius^  and  his 

35  daughter  wed  him.     I  told  him  this  wooing  should  be  to  night,  and 

they  early  marryed  in  the  morning,  without  anie  wordes  sauing  to 

saie  after  the  Priest. 

Dro,   All  this  fodges  well !   now  if  JIalfpenie  and  Imcco  haue 
playde  theyr  partes,  wee  shall  haue  excellent  sporte — and  here  they 
40  come.     Howe  wrought  the  wine,  my  lads  ? 

Enter  Halfpenie,  Luceo. 
JIalf,    How  ?  like  wine,  for  my  bodie  being  the  rundlet,  and  my 
mouth  the  vent,  it  wrought  two  daies  ouer,  till  I  had  thought  the 
hoopes  of  my  head  woulde  haue  flowen  asunder. 

10  a  quarter  long  so  atl^  se,  of  an  hour        la  eho,  ho,  to.  (to  roms^  Bl, :  a$ui  so 

QQ  {ail  romans) :  eho,  ho,  o.  («//  Uais,)  DU,        ij  VQ^i  wc  rest         19  &,  om, 

Dil        23  h\m  om,  old  eds.Dtl,        35  marking  Q':  thanking  frx/        31  mo^^: 

my  Q*  BL  :  any  Dil. :  many  F,  33  spake  F,  38  fodges  QQ  here  and 

//.  204,  210:  todges  Bl,  mods,  39  cxccellent  Q^ 


198  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actiii 

Lucio,  The  best  was,  our  masters  were  as  well  whitled  as  we,  for 
yet  they  lie  by  it.  45 

Ris.  The  better  for  vs !  we  dyd  but  a  little  parboile  our  liuers, 
they  haue  sod  theyrs  in  sacke  these  fortie  yeeres. 

Half,   Tliat  makes  them  spit  white  broth  as  they  doo.     But  to  the 
purpose.     Candius  and  Uuia  will  send  their  attires,  you  must  send 
the  apparell  of  Accius  and  Sikna ;   they  wonder  wherefore,  but  50 
commit  the  matter  to  our  quadrapertit  wit. 

Lucio,  If  you  keepe  promise  to  marrie  them  by  your  deuice,  and 
their  parents  consent,  you  shall  haue  tenne  pounds  a  peece  for  your 
paines. 

Dro,   If  wee  doo  it  not  wee  are  vndone !  for  we  haue  broacht  55 
a  cosnage  alreadie,  and  my  master  hath  the  tap  in  his  hand,  that  it 
must  needs  runne  out.     Let  th6  be  ruld,  and  bring  hether  their 
apparell,  and  we  wil  determine;  the  rest  commit  to  our  intricate 
considerations:  depart 

Exeunt  Halfepenie,  Luceo.    Enter  Accius  and  Silena. 

Dro.   Here  comes  Accius  tuning  his  pipes.     I  perceiue  my  master  60 
keepes  touch. 
»^      Ris,   And  here  comes  Silena  with  her  wit  of  proofe !  marie  it  will 
scarse  holde  out  question  shot :  let  vs  in  to  instruct  our  masters  in 
the  que. 

Dro.   Come  let  vs  be  iogging :  but  wert  not  a  world  to  heare  them  65 
woe  one  another  ? 

Ris.  That  shall  be  hereafter  to  make  vs  sport,  but  our  masters 
shall  neuer  know  it.  Exeunt, 

Accius  and  Silena  singing. 

Song. 
Sil.    /^     Cupid!  Monarch  ouer  Kings, 

^<J    Wherefore  hast  thou  feete  and  wings? 

It  is  to  shew  how  swift  thou  art, 

When  thou  wound'st  a  tender  heart : 

Thy  wings  being  clip'd,  and  feete  held  still,  5 

Thy  Bow  so  many  could  not  kill. 

51  qoadrapertite  BL  F, :   qnadrnpaitite  Dii.  53  their  Q^  DiL :    your  rest 

60  MaBten  BL :  master's  F,  63  oat  Q' :  onr  rest  64  the  que  ^^  A  :  the  Q  Bl, : 
their  cne  Dil,  66  woo  Bl,  mods,  to  Ufore  another  Dil,  s.  D.  Exeunt.  Sc.  8 . . . 
sinking.  I  follow  F*s  suggested  emendation  ;  QQ  have  Exeunt.  Memphio  and 
Stellio  singing.  Act.  8.  Sc.  8.  Memphio  and  SteUio  om,  the  song:  Bl,  Dil,  F,  insert 
before  announcing  scene  Song  and  words  {first  6  //.  to  Memp.,  rest  to  Stel.) 


scm]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  199 

Aec.   It  is  all  one  in  Vemts  wanton  schoole,  '^ 

Who  highest  sits,  the  wise  man  or  the  foole: 
Fooles  in  loues  colledge 
10  Haue  farre  more  knowledge. 

To  leade  a  woman  ouer. 
Than  a  neate  prating  loner. 

Nay,  tis  confest, 
That  fooles  please  women  best. 

(^Enfet}  Memphio  oyi^STELLio. 

15     Afem.   Acdus  come  in,  and  that  quickly  !  what !  walking  without 
leaue? 

Stei.   Siiena,  I  praie  you  looke  homeward,  it  is  a  colde  aire,  and 
you  want  your  mufler.  Exeunt  Accius  &  Silkna* 

Mem.  {aside).  This  is  pat !  if  the  rest  proceed,  Sfe//io  is  like  to 
ao  marrie  his  daughter  to  a  foole ;  but  a  bargen  is  a  bargen  ! 

Sfe/.  {aside).    This  frames  to  my  wish !     Memphio  is  like  to 

marrie  a  foole  to  his  sonne  \  Accius  tongue  shall  tie  all  MempJuos 

land  to  Silenas  dowrie,  let  his  fathers  teeth  vndoo  them  if  hee  can : 

but  heere  I  see  Memphio.    I  must  seeme  kind,  for  in  kindnes  lies 

35  cosnage. 

Mem.  {aside).  Wei,  here  is  Stellio;  He  talke  of  other  matters, 
&  flie  from  the  marke  I  shoot  at,  lapwing-like  flying  far  from  the 
place  where  I  nestle.  {Aloud.)  Stellio^  what  make  you  abroad  ? 
I  heard  you  were  sicke  since  our  last  drinking. 
30  Siel.  You  see  reports  are  no  truths :  I  heard  the.  like  of  you,  & 
we  are  both  well.  I  perceiue  sober  men  tel  most  lies,  for  in  vino 
veritcu.    If  they  had  drunke  wine,  they  would  haue  tolde  the  truth. 

Mem.  Our  boies  will  be  sure  then  neuer  to  lie,  for  they  are  euer 
swilling  of  wine  :  but  Stellio,  I  must  straine  cursie  with  you ;  I  haue 
35  busines,  I  cannot  stay. 

Stel.   In  good  time,  Memphio!   for  I  was  about  to  craue  your 
patience  to  departe ;  it  stands  me  vppon. — {Aside.)  Perhaps  (I  may) 
moue  his  patience  ere  it  be  long. 
Mem.  {aside).   Good  silly  Stel.  we  must  buckle  shortly. 

Exeunt. 

18  yoar  Q^\  a  rest        a 8  makes  Dil.        31  in  (romans)  all  eds.        34  cnnie 
old  cds. :  curgy  Dtl. :  cur'iie  A  37  [I  may]  F,*s  insertion  37,  39  tkese 

two  asides  suppl.  Dilke 


200  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [act  in 

ScE.  4. 

Halfepenie.    Luceo.    Rixula.    Dromio.    Risio. 

(^Enttr  Halfpenny  with  clothes  belonging  to  Candius,  Lucio  and 

Rixula  with  clothes  belonging  to  Livia.) 

Lucio.    Come,  Rixula^  wee  haue  made  thee  priuie  to  the  whole 
packe,  there  laie  downe  the  packe. 

^Rix,   I  beleeue  vnlesse  it  be  better  handled,  wee  shall  out  of 
doores. 

Half,   I  care  not,  Omnem  solum  fortipatria^  I  can  liue  in  christen-  5 
dome  as  well  as  in  Kent. 

Lucio,   And  He  sing  Patria  vbicunque  bene;  euerie  house  is  my 
home,  where  I  may  stanch  hunger. 

Rix,  Nay^  if  you  set  all  on  hazard,  though  I  be  a  pore  wench 
I  am  as  hardie  as  you  both  ;  I  cannot  speake  Latine,  but  in  plaine  10 
English,  if  anie  thing  fall  out  crosse.  He  runne  away. 

Half,   He  loues  thee  well  that  would  runne  after. 

Rix.  Why,  Halfpenie^  there's  no  goose  so  gray  in  the  lake,  that 
cannot  finde  a  gander  for  her  make. 

Ludo.  I  loue  a  nutbrowne  lasse,  tis  good  to  recreate.  15 

Half.  Thou  meanest,  a  browne  nut  is  good  to  crack. 

Lucio.  Why  wold  it  not  do  thee  good  to  crack  such  a  nut  ? 

Half  I  feare  she  is  worm-eaten  within,  she  is  so  moth-eaten 
without 

Rix.  If  you  take  your  pleasure  of  mee,  He  in  and  tell  your  20 
practises  against  your  masters. 

Half  In  faith,  soure  heart,  hee  that  takes  his  pleasure  on  thee  is 
verie  pleasurable. 

Rix.  You  meane  knauishly,  and  yet  I  hope  foule  water  will 
quench  hot  fire  as  soone  as  fayre.  25 

Half  Well  then,  let  fayre  wordes  coole  that  cholar,  which  foule 
speeches  hath  kindled ;  and  because  we  are  all  in  this  case,  and  hope 
all  to  haue  good  fortune,  sing  a  roundelay,  and  weele  helpe, — such  as 
thou  wast  woont  when  thou  beatedst  hempe. 

Lucio,  It  was  crabbs  she  stampt,  and  stole  away  one  to  make  her  33 
a  face. 

Rix,  I  agree,  in  hope  that  the  hempe  shall  come  to  your  wearing : 

I  the  ^:  our  rtst  5  onmtDil,  stupidly  10  cannon  Q^  16 

bnwne  F.  37  tpeeches  Qf^ :  words  rest  29  beatest  QQ 


SCiv]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  201 

a  halfepenie  halter  may  hang  you  both,  that  is,  Halfepeny  and  you 
may  hang  in  a  halter. 
35     Half.  Well  brought  about. 

Rix.  Twill  when  ds  about  your  necke. 

Ludo.  Nay,  now  shees  in  she  will  neuer  out. 

Rix,  Nor  when  your  heads  are  in,  as  it  is  lykely,  they  should 

not  come  out    But  barken  to  my  song. 

Cantant 
Song. 

40  Rix.  T7^^^  ^^^  ^  ^^^  sweate, 

^      When  hempe  I  did  beate, 
Then  thought  I  of  nothing  but  hanging; 
The  hempe  being  spun, 
My  beating  was  done; 
45  Then  I  wish'd  for  a  noyse 

Of  crack-halter  Boyes, 
On  those  hempen  strings  to  be  twanging. 
Long  lookt  I  about, 
The  City  throughout, — 
50  The  Pages,       And  fownd  no  such  fidling  varlets. 
Rix.  Yes,  at  last  comming  hither, 

I  saw  foure  together. 
The  Pages.        May  thy  hempe  choake  such  singing  harlots. 
Rix.   To  whit  to  whoo,  the  Owle  docs  cry ; 
55  Phip,  phip,  the  sparrowes  as  they  fly; 

The  goose  does  hisse;  the  duck  cries  quack; 
A  Rope  the  Parrot,  that  holds  tack. 
The  Pages.    The  parrat  and  the  rope  be  thine 

Rix.   The  hanging  yours,  but  the  hempe  mine. 

Enter  Dromio,  Risio  {carrying  doihes  of  Accius  and  Silena 

respectively). 

60     Dro.  Yonder  stands  the  wags,  I  am  come  in  good  time. 
Ris.  All  here  before  me !  you  make  hast 

Rix.   I  beleeue,  to  hanging  ;  for  I  thinke  you  haue  all  robd  your 
masters  :  heres  euery  man  his  baggage. 

Half    That    is,   we   are   all   with   thee,   for  thou  art  a  verie 
65  baggage. 

Rix.  Hold  thy  peace,  or  of  mine  honesty  He  buy  an  halfpenie 
purse  with  thee. 

s.  D.  Cantant  QQ  Bl  F. :  cm,  JDii, :  Bi,  atone  o/ddeds,  gives  the  song  50. 

53,  58  The  Pages]  4  Pag.  BL  :  The  Men  Dit. :  a  Pag.  F.        60  stand  Dil.        66 
Rix.  QQDil.i  KLBt.i  Ris.  F. 


202  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actiii 

Dro.  In  deed  thats  big  inough  to  put  thy  honesty  in.  But  come, 
shall  we  go  about  the  matter  ? 

Lucio,   Now  it  is  come  to  the  pinch  my  heart  pants.  70 

Half.  I  for  my  part  am  resolute,  in  uirumque  paratus^  redie  to 
die  or  to  runne  away. 

LmcIo,  But,  heare  me !  I  was  troubled  with  a  vile  dream,  and 
therefore  it  is  little  time  spent  to  let  Mother  Bomhy  expound  it :  she 
is  cunning  in  all  things.  75 

Dro.   Then  will  I  know  my  fortune. 

Rix,  And  He  aske  for  a  siluer  spoone  which  was  lost  last  daie, 
which  I  must  pay  for. 

Ris.   And  He  know  what  wil  become  of  our  deuices. 

Haff,  And  I!  8<» 

Dro.  Then  let  vs  all  go  quickly;  we  must  not  sleep  in  this 
busines,  our  masters  are  so  watchfuU  about  it. 

<  They  knock  at  Bombie's  door.    Enter  Mother  Bombie.) 

Bom.  Why  do  you  rap  so  hard  at  the  doore  ? 

Dro.   Because  we  would  come  in. 

Bom.   Nay,  my  house  is  no  Inne.  S5 

Half.  Crosse  your  selues,  looke  how  she  lookes. 

Dro.   Marke  her  not,  sheele  tume  vs  all  to  Apes. 

Bom.  What  would  you  with  me  ? 

Ris.  They  say  you  are  cunning,  &  are  called  the  good  woman  of 
Rochester.  9^ 

Bom.  If  neuer  to  doo  harme,  be  to  doo  good,  I  dare  saie  I  am 
not  ill.     But  whats  the  matter  ? 

Lucio.   I  had  an  ill  dream,  &  desire  to  know  the  significatiO. 

Bom.  Dreames,  my  sonne^  haue  their  weight :  though  they  be  of 
a  troubled  minde,  yet  are  they  signes  of  fortune.    Say  on.  95 

LuciOn  In  the  dawning  of  the  day, — for  about  that  time  by  my 
starting  out  of  my  sleepe,  I  found  it  to  bee, — mee  thought  I  sawe 
a  stately  peece  of  beefe,  vrith  a  cape  cloke  of  cabidge,  imbrodered 
with  pepper ;  hauing  two  honorable  pages  ¥rith  hats  of  mustard  on 
their  heades ;  himselfe  in  greate  pompe  sitting  vppon  a  cushion  of  100 
white  Brewish,  linde  with  browne  Breade;  me  thought  being 
poudred,  he  was  much  trobled  with  the  salt  rume ;  &  therfore  there 

70  pinch]  pitch  F.  71  atmmqne  Dil. :  ytnuia.  oldeds.  s.  D.  [They 

knock  . . .  MoTHsa  Bombik]    u^liid  Dil.  87  Dro.   Q^  F. :    rest  omit, 

prinHng  speech  as  part  of  Half. '^^         93  *&]  <l  6^  loa   rheum  i9i7. 


saiv]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  203 

stood  by  him  two  great  flagons  of  sacke  and  beere,  the  one  to  drie 
vp  his  nune,  the  other  to  quench  his  cholar.     I  as  one  enuying  his 
105  ambition,  hungring  and  thirsting  after  his  honor,  began  to  pull  his 
cushi6  fr6  vnder  him,  hoping  by  that  means  to  giue  him  a  fall ;  & 
with  putting  out  my  hand  awakt,  &  found  nothing  in  all  this 
dreame  about  me  but  the  salt  rume. 
Dro.   A  dreame  for  a  butcher. 
no     Ludo.   Soft^  let  me  end  it! — then  I  slumbred  againe,   &  me 
thought  there  came  in  a  leg  of  mutton. 
Dro,  What !  all  grosse  meat?  a  racke  had  bene  daintie. 
Lucio,  Thou  foole !  how  could  it  come  in,  vnlesse  it  had  bin  a  leg  ? 
me  thought  his  hose  were  cut  &  drawen  out  with  parsly,  I  thrust  my 
115  hand  into  my  pocket  for  a  knife,  thinking  to  hoxe  him,  and  so  awakt. 
Bam,   Belyke  thou  wentst  supperlesse  to  bed. 
Lucio,  So  I  doo  euerie  night  but  sundaies :  Prisius  hath  a  weake 
stomacke,  and  therefore  we  must  starue. 
Bom,   Well,  take  this  for  answere,  though  the  dream  be  fantas- 
120  ticall; — 

They  that  in  the  morning  sleep  dream  of  eating. 

Are  in  danger  of  sicknesse,  or  of  beating, 
Or  shall  heare  of  a  wedding  fresh  a  beating. 
Lucio,   This  may  be  true, 
las     Half,   Nay  then  let  me  come  in  with  a  dreame,  short  but  sweet, 
that  my  mouth  waters  euer  since  I  wakt.     Me  thought  there  sate 
vpon  a  shelfe  three  damaske  prunes  in  veluet  caps  and  prest  satten 
gownes  like  ludges ;  and  that  there  were  a  whole  handfull  of  curants 
to  be  araigned  of  a  riot,  because  they  cluged  together  in  such  clusters ; 
130  twelue  raisons  of  the  sunne  were  impannelled  in  a  lewry,  and,  as 
a  leafe  of  whole  mase,  which  was  bailief,  was  carrying  the  quest  to 
consult,  me  thoght  ther  came  an  angrie  cooke,  and  gelded  the  lewry 
of  theyr  stones,  and  swept  both  iudges,  iurers,  rebels,  and  bailiefe, 
into  a  porredge  pot ;  whereat  I  beeing  melancholy,  fetcht  a  deepe 
135  sigh,  that  wakt  my  selfe  and  my  bed  fellow. 

Dro,   This  was  deuisd,  not  dreamt ;  and  the  more  foolish  being 
no  dreame,  for  that  dreames  excuse  the  fantasticalnesse. 

Half,  Then  aske  my  bed-felow,  you  know  him,  who  dreamt  that 
night  that  the  king  of  diamonds  was  sicke. 

103  sacke  (^  :  wine  rest  io6  cushing  Bl,  loj  I  A^.  awakt  Q*  rest 

128  indges  Q^  i2g  &  QQ  only         dtigd  Q^ :  dnnged  Q*  BL :  dung  mods, 

131  yi\\o\t  old eds,  Dil,\  c\^  F, 


204  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [act  in 

Bom.   But  thy  yeeres  and  humours,  pretie  child,  are  subiect  to  140 
such  fansies,  which  the  more  vnsensible  they  seeme,  the  more 
fantasticall  they  are ;  therefore  this  dream  is  easie. 
To  children,  this  is  giuen  from  the  Gods 
To  dream  of  milke,  fruit,  babies,  and  rods ; 
They  betoken  nothing,  but  that  wantons  must  haue  rods.  145 

Dro.  Ten  to  one  thy  dreame  is  true,  thou  wilt  bee  svringed. 

Mix.  Nay  gammer,  I  pray  you  tell  me  who  stole  my  spoone  out 
of  the  buttrie  ? 

Bom.    Thy  spoone  is  not  stolne  but  mislaide. 

Thou  art  an  ill  huswife,  though  a  good  maid,  150 

Looke  for  thy  spoon  where  thou  hadst  like  to  be  no  maide. 

Eix,  Bodie  of  me  1  let  me  fetch  the  spoone  !    I  remember  the 
place ! 

Ludo.  Soft,  swift ;  the  place  if  it  be  there  now,  will  bee  there  to 
morrowe.  '55 

Rix.  I,  but  perchance  the  iqx)one  will  not. 

Half.   Wert  thou  once  put  to  it  ? 

Eix.   No,  sir  boy,  it  was  put  to  me. 

Ludo.   How  was  it  mist  ? 

Dro.   He  warrant  for  want  of  a  mist.    But  whats  my  fortune,  160 
mother  ? 

Bom.  Thy  father  doth  liue  because  he  doth  die, 
Thou  hast  spent  all  thy  thrift  with  a  die. 
And  so  lyke  a  begger  thou  shalt  die. 

Eis.   I  woulde  haue  likte  well  if  all  the  gerundes  had  beene  165 
there,  di^  do^  and  dum ;  but  all  in  die,  thats  too  deadly. 

JDro.   My  father  indeed  is  a  diar,  and  I  haue  ben  a  dicer,  but  to 
die  a  beggar,  giue  mee  leaue  not  to  beleeue.  Mother  Bombie ;  and 
yet  it  may  bee.     I  haue  nothing  to  liue  by  but  knauery,  and  if  the 
world  grow  honesty  welcome  beggerie.     But  what  hast  thou  to  say,  170 
Risiol 

Bis.  Nothing,  till  I  see  whether  all  this  bee  true  that  she  hath 
sayd. 

Half.  I,  Bisio  would  faine  see  thee  beg. 

Bis.  Nay,  mother,  tell  vs  this.  What  is  all  our  fortunes  ?  we  are  175 
about  a  matter  of  legerdemaine,  howe  will  it  fodge  ? 

1^1  VDBcnsible  (j^ .  Tincible  rest;  Dil.  proposing  to  transpose  fantasticall  tfm/ 
vinable  147  gammer  Q^  Dil. :  grammer  rest  154  will]  it  will  (^ 

165  I]IIO':  I.Ii?/.-^.:    Ah!I/}i7.  i67diarOO:   l>y9x  Bl.  F.i  dyer 

JHt.  and  Dil.  F. :  but  old  eds.  176  £idge  Bl.  mods. 


saiv]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  205 

Bom.  You  shall  all  thriue  like  coosners, 

That  is,  to  bee  coosned  by  coosners  : 
All  shall  ende  well,  and  you  bee  found  coosners. 
iSo      Drd,  Gramercie !  Mother  Bombie^  we  are  all  pleasd,  if  you  were 
for  your  paines.  <  Offering  money.  > 

Bom,  I  take  no  monie,  but  good  wordes.    Raile  not  if  I  tell  true ; 
if  I  doe  not,  reuenge.    Farewell. 

Exit  BoM. 
Dro.  Now  haue  we  nothing  to  doe  but  to  go  about  this  busines. 
J^S  Accius  apparell  let  Candius  put  on ;  and  I  wyU  aray  Accius  with 
Candius  clothes. 

^is,  Heere  is  Silenas  attire ;  Lucio^  put  it  vpon  Liuia^  and  give 
me  Ziuias  for  Siiena :  this  done,  let  Candius  &  Uuia  come  foorth, 
and  let  Dromio  and  mee  alone  for  the  rest 
193      Half.  What  shall  become  of  Accius  and  Siiena  f 

Dro.  Tush  !  theyr  tume  shall  bee  next,  all  must  bee  done  orderly : 
lets  to  it,  for  nowe  it  workes.  Exeunt. 


ACT.   4. 

SCE.  1. 

Candius,  Liuia,  Dromio,  Risio,  Sperantus,  Prisius. 

{Enter  Candius  and  Livia,  in  the  clothes  of  Acaus  and  Silena, 

respectively. ") 

Livia.   This  attyre  is  verie  fit     But  how  if  this  make  me  a  foole, 
and  Siiena  wise  ?  you  will  then  woo  mee,  and  wedde  her. 

Can.   Thou  knowest  that  Accius  is  also  a  foole,  and  his  raiment 
fits  me :  so  that  if  apparell  be  infectious,  I  am  also  lyke  to  be  a  foole, 
5  and  hee  wise ;  what  would  be  the  conclusion,  I  meruaile. 

Enter  Dromio,  Risio. 

Livia.    Here  comes  our  counsellers. 
Dro.   Well  sayd ;  I  perceiue  turtles  flie  in  couples. 
Ris.    Else  how  should  they  couple  ? 

lAvia.   So  do  knaues  go  double,  else  how  should  they  be  so 
10  cunning  in  doubling? 

187  Lucio]  Linceo  (^  4-5  foole,  and  hee  wife;  what]  fool;  and  he  wise, 

what  Dil. :  foole,  and  hee  wist  what  QQ  Bl.  F. 


1/ 


2o6  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [activ 

Can.  Bona  verba,  Liuia, 

Dro,    I  vnderstand  Latine :  that  is,  Liuia  is  a  good  worde. 

Can,   No,  I  byd  her  vse  good  wordes. 

Ris.   And  what  deeds  ? 

Can,   None  but  a  deed  of  giflL  15 

RU.   What  gift? 

Can,   Her  heart. 

Dro,  Giue  mee  leaue  to  pose  you,  though  you  bee  a  graduate ;  for 
I  tell  you  we  in  Rochester  spurre  so  many  hackneys,  that  we  must 
needs  spurre  schollers,  for  wee  take  them  for  hackneys.  ^o 

JJvia,   Why  so,  sir  boy  ? 

Dro,  Because  I  knew  two  hired  for  ten  grotes  a  pece  to  saie 
seruice  on  Sunday,  and  thats  no  more  than  a  post  horse  from  hence 
to  Canterbury. 

Ris,   Hee  knowes  what  hee  sayes,  for   hee   once  serued   the  35 
post-master.       ^ 

Can,  In  deed  I  thinke  hee  serued  some  poast  to  his  master,  but 
come  Dromiopost  me, 

Dro,  You  saie  you  would  haue  her  heart  for  a  deed. 

Can,   Well  3© 

Dro,  If  you  take  her  hart  for  cor,  that  heart  in  her  bodie,  then  know 
this:  Molle  eius  leuibus,  cor  enim  violabile  telis:  a  womans  heart  is 
thrust  through  with  a  feather :  if  you  meane  she  should  giue  a  heart 
/  named  Ceruus,  then  are  you  worse,  for  comua  ceruus  habet,  that  is, 
to  haue  ones  heart  growe  out  at  his  head,  which  wyll  make  one  ake  35 
at  the  heart  in  their  bodie. 

Enter  Prisius,  Sperantus. 

Liuia.  I,  beshrew  your  hearts,  I  heare  one  comming :  I  know  it 
is  my  father  by  his  comming. 

Can,   What  must  we  doo? 

Dro.   Why,  as  I  tolde  you :  and  let  me  alone  with  the  olde  men :  40 
fall  you  to  your  bridall. 

Pris.  Come^  neighbor,  I  perceiue  the  loue  of  our  children  waxeth 
key  colde. 

Spe.   I  thinke  it  was  neuer  but  luke  warme. 

Pris,   Bauins  will  haue  their  flashes,  and  youth  their  fansies ;  45 
the  one  as  soone  quenched  as  the  other  burnt    But  who  be  these  ? 

3a  Molle  . . .  Cor  enim  inuiolabile  Q}' :  hence  Male  .  . .  inniolabile  ^  Bl,  F. : 
Dil,  lengthens  oor  reading  molle  . . .  levibus,  cor  est  violabile  {so  Lev.  Met.  ▼.  a.  11) 
38  coinming]  congfaing  Dil.  43  key  colde  Q^ :  cold  rest 


&h 


9C.ll  MOTHER  BOMBIE-  207 

Can,   Here  I  do  plight  my  faith,  taking  thee  for  the  stafTe  of  my 
age,  and  of  my  youth  my  solace. 

Uvia,   And  I  vow  to  thee  affection  which  nothing  can  dissolue, 
50  neither  the  length  of  time,  nor  mallice  of  fortune,  nor  distance  of 
place. 

Can.   But  when  shall  we  be  married  ? 

Zivia.   A  good  question,  for  that  one  delay  in  wedding,  brings  an 
hundred  dangers  in  the  Church :  we  will  not  be  askt,  and  a  licence  is 
55  too  chargeable,  and  to  tarrie  til  to  morrow  too  tedious. 

£>ro.   There's  a  girle  stands  on  pricks  till  she  be  married. 
Can.   To  auoid  danger,  charge,  and  tediousnesse,  let  vs  now 
conclude  it  in  the  next  Church. 
Livia.   Agreed. 
60     JPris.   What  be  these  that  hasten  so  to  marrie  ? 

Dro.   Marrie  sir,  Aca'us,  sonne  to  McmphiOy  and  Sihna^  Stellios 
daughter. 

Spe.   I  am  sorrie,  neighbour,  for  our  purposes  are  disappointed. 
Pris.   You  see  marriage  is  destinie;  made  in  heauen,  though  j/^     ^4 
65  consumated  on  earth. 

Ris.   How  like  you  them  ?  be  they  not  a  pretie  couple  ? 
Fris.   Yes  :  God  giue  them  ioye,  seeing  in  spite  of  our  hearts  they 
must  ioyne. 

Dro.   I  am  sure  you  are  not  angrie,  seeing  things  past  cannot  be 
70  recald ;  and  being  witnesses  to  their  contract,  will  be  also  welwillers* 
to  the  match. 
Spc,   For  my  part  I  wish  them  well. 

Pris,   And  I :  and  since  there  is  no  remedie,  I  am  glad  of  it 
Ris.    But  will  you  neuer  heereafter  take  it  in  dugeon,  but  vse 
75  them  as  well  as  though  your  selues  had  made  the  marriage? 
Fris.   Not  I. 
Spe.   Nor  I. 

Dro,   Sir,  heres  two  old  men  are  glad  that  your  loues,  so  long 
continued,  is  so  happily  concluded. 
80      Can,   Wee  thanke  them;  and  if  they  will  come  to  Memphios 
house,  they  shall  take  parte  of  a  bad  dinner. — (^Aside.yTlis  cottons, 
and  workes  like  waxe  in  a  sowes  eare. 

Exeunt  Candius,  Liuia. 

53  bringeth  Q^  BL  mods,         54  dangers :  in  Dil,  deleting  the  comma  of  old  eds, 
fl/ Church  55  too*]  to  Q^  73  that  before  I  am  old  eds,  78  heres] 

hecre  Q"  BL :    here  Dtt.  love  F.  79  is]  are  Dil.  81  bad  g^ : 

bard  rest 


2o8  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [activ 

Pris,  Well,  seeing  our  purposes  are  preuented,  wee  must  lay 
other  plots,  for  JJuia  shall  not  haue  Candius. 

Spe,    Feare  not,  for  I  haue  swome  that  Candius  shall  not  haue  85 
JUuia,    But  let  not  vs  fall  out  because  our  children  fall  in. 

Fris.  Wilt  thou  goe  soone  to  Memphios  house  ? 

Spe,  I,  and  if  you  will,  let  vs ;  that  we  may  see  how  the  young 
couple  bride  it^  and  so  we  may  teach  our  owne.  Exeunt 

ScE.  2. 

ACCIUSy   SiLENA,   LiNCEO,   HaLFEPENIE. 

{Enter  Lucio  and  Halfpenny.) 

Lucio.  By  this  time  I  am  sure  the  wagges  haue  playde  their 
parts;  there  rests  nothing  now  for  vs  but  to  match  Accius  and 
Silena. 

Half.    It  was  too  good  to  be  true,  for  we  should  laugh  heartily, 

and  without  laughing  my  spleene  would  split ;  but  whist !  here  comes  5 

the  man, 

Enter  Accius  {in  Candius'  clothes^. 

and  yonder  the  maide :  let  vs  stand  aside. 

Enter  Silena  {in  Livia's  clothes), 

Accius.  What  meanes  my  father  to  thrust  mee  forth  in  an  other 
boies  coate  ?  He  warrant  tis  to  as  much  purpose  as  a  hem  in  the 
forehead.  *o 

Half,   There  was  an  auncient  prouerbe  knockt  in  the  head. 

Accius,  I  am  almost  come  into  my  nonage,  and  yet  I  neuer  was  so 
farre  as  the  prouerbes  of  this  citie. 

Ludo,   Theres  a  quip  for  the  suburbes  of  Rochester. 

Half   Excellently  applyed.  15 

Sil,  Well,  though  this  furniture  make  mee  a  sullen  dame^  yet 
I  hope  in  mine  owne  I  am  no  saint 

Half  A  braue  fight  is  lyke  to  bee  betweene  a  cocke  with  a  long 
combe,  and  a  hen  with  a  long  leg. 

Lucio,   Nay,  her  wits  are  shorter  than  her  legs.  ao 

Half   And  his  combe  longer  than  h}s  wit. 

Accius.  I  haue  yonder  vncouered  a  faire  girle :  He  be  so  bolde  as 
spurre  her,  what  might  a  bodie  call  her  name  ? 

84  other  (^  only  88  will  let  all  eds,  4  was]  would  be  Dil.         8>9 

anothen  boyes  (^  la  mine  Q^ 


sen]  MOTHER  BOMBIB^  ^09 

&'/.  I  cannot  help  you  at  this  time,  I  praie  you  come  againe  to 
35  morrow. 

Ifa/f.   I,  marie  sir ! 

Acdus.  You  neede  not  bee  so  lustye,  you  are  not  so  honest 

SiL  I  crie  you  mercy,  I  tooke  you  for  a  ioynd  stoole. 

Lucto,   Heeres  courting  for  a  conduit  or  a  bakehouse. 
30     SiL   But  what  are  you  for  a  man  ?  me  thinks  you  loke  as  pleaseth 
God. 

Accius.  What  doo  you  giue  me  the  boots  ? 

JlcUf,  Whether  will  they  ?  here  be  right  coblers  cuts  ! 

Accius,   I  am  taken  with  a  fit  of  loue :  haue  you  anye  minde  of 
35  marriage  ? 

Sii.   I  had  thought  to  haue  askt  you. 

Accius.  Vpon  what  acquaintance  ? 

SiL   Who  would  haue  thought  it  ? 

Accius.   Much  in  my  gascoins,  more  in  my  round  hOse;  all  my 
40  fathers  are  as  white  as  daisies,  as  an  ^ge  full  of  meate. 

SiL   And  all  my  fathers  plate  is  made  of  Crimosin  veluet. 

Accius.   Thats  braue  with  bread ! 

Half.   These  two  had  wise  men  to  theyr  Fathers. 

Lucio.   Why  ? 
45      Half.   Because  when  their    bodies  were   at  worke  about  hous- 
hold    stuflfe,    their    mindes    were    busied    about    commonwealth 
matters. 

Accius.   This  is  pure  lawne :  what  call  you  this,  a  pretie  face  to 
your  haire  ? 
50     SiL   Wisely !  you  haue  pickt  a  raison  out  of  a  fraile  of  figges. 

Accius.   Take  it  as  you  list,  you  are  in  your  owne  clothes. 

SiL   Sauing  a  reuerence,  thats  a  lie!  my  clothes  are  better,  my 
father  borrowed  these. 

Accius.   Long  may  hee  so  doe.    I  could  tell  that  these  are  not 
55  mine,  if  I  would  blab  it  lyke  a  woman. 

SiL   I  had  as  liefe  you  should  tell  them  it  snowd. 

Lucio.   Come  let  vs  take  them  oflf,  for  we  haue  had  the  creame  of 
them. 

Half.   He  warrant  if  this  bee  the  creame,  the  milke  is  verie  flat : 
60  let  vs  ioyne  issue  with  them. 

33  Whether  1.  e.  Whither  as  Dil.         39  hose]  honae  Bl.  DiL  41  crimson 

(^  rest        42  ThaU]  That  (^        43  two  Dii.  F. :  three  old  tds.        49  haire]  heir 
Dil.        50  Wisely  you  all  eds.        56  liefe]  leane  BL  Piods. 

BOHo  nx  P 


r- 


2iq  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [activ 

Lucio,  To  haue  such  issues  of  our  bodies,  is  worse  than  haue  an 
issue  in  the  bodie.     {To  Silena.)  God  saue  you,  prety  mouse. 

SiL   You  may  command  and  go  without 

Half.  Theres  a  glieke  for  you,  let  me  haue  my  girde. — {To  Sil.) 
On  thy  conscience  tell  me  what  tis  a  clocke  ?  65 

Sii,   I  cry  you  mercie,  I  haue  kild  your  cushion. 

Half.  I  am  paid  and  stroke  dead  in  the  neast — I  am  sure  this 
soft  youth  who  is  not  halfe  so  wise  as  you  are  faire,  nor  you  alto- 
\'^,  ^        gether  so  faire  as  he  is  foolish,  will  not  be  so  captious. 

Accius.  Your  eloquence  passes  my  recognoscence.  70 

Enter  Memphio,  Stellio  {severally^  behind). 

Lucio.  I  neuer  heard  that  before,  but  shal  we  two  make  a  match 
betweene  you  ? 

•Sr7.   He  know  first  who  was  his  father. 

Accius,  My  father?  what  need  you  to  care ?  I  hope  he  was  none 
of  yours !  75 

Half.  A  hard  question,  for  it  is  oddes  but  one  begate  them  both  ; 
hee  that  cut  out  the  vpper  leather,  cut  out  the  inner,  &  so  with  one 
awl  stitcht  two  soles  together. 

SM  (ande  to  Luc).   What  is  she? 

Luc,  Tis /yxfiW  daughter.  80 

SUl.  In  good  time :  it  fodges. 

Mtmp,  {aside  to  Half.).   What  is  he  ? 

Half,  Sperantus  sonne. 

Memp,   So  :  twill  cotton. 

Accius.  Damsell,  I  pray  you  how  olde  are  you  ?  85 

Mtmp,  {joside^  alarmed).  My  sonne  would  scarce  haue  askt  such 
a  foolish  question. 

SiL   I  shall  be  eighteene  next  beare-baiting. 

SteL  (joside^  alarmed).  My  daughter  woulde  haue  made  a  ¥riser 
aunswere.  99 

HcUf,  {to  Luc).  O  how  fitly  this  comes  oflf ! 

Accius,  My  father  is  a  scolde,  whats  yours  ? 

Memp,  My  heart  throbs, — I^'U)  looke  him  in  the  face  :  and  yonder 
I  espie  Stellio. 

61  issues]  issue  0*  rest  64  a  glieke]  glieke  Q*  rest^  which  Dil.  explains  as 
^  to  gibe'  65  tis]  it  is  Q*  rest  70  passe  QQ  77  that]  hath  F.  79-84 
Stel.  [aside  to  Luc.]  this  tmd  the  five  feilawing  prefixes  are  misplaced  in  all  eds, 
Memp.  HalL  Memp.  Stel.  Loc.  Stel.    See  note  81  £sdges  Bl.  mods,  91 

off]  of  C^  93  rU]  I  tf  all  eds.  isprob.  mistake  fir  lltduetolin  looke 


nc.ii]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  21  r 

95     S/el  My  minde  misgiues  mee — but  whist,  yonder  is  MempMo. 
Accius  (Jo  Memp.).   In  faith  I  perceiue  an  olde  sawe  and  a  nistici^ 
no  foole  to  the  old  foole.     I  praie  you  wherefore  was  I  thrust  out 
lyke  a  scar-crow  in  this  similitude  ? 

Memp.  My  sonne  !  and  I  ashamd  !  Dromio  shall  die. 
100     SiL  Father,  are  you  sneaking  behind?    I  pray  you  what  must 
I  doe  next  ? 

Siel.  My  daughter !  Eisio  thou  hast  cosned  mee« 
Lucio.  Now  begins  the  game. 
Memp,  How  came  you  hether  ? 
105     Accius.   Marrie,  by  the  waie  from  your  house  hether, 
Memp.   How  chance  in  this  attire  ? 
Accius.  How  chance  Dromio  bid  me  ? 
Memp.  Ah,  thy  sonne  will  bee  begd  for  a  concealde  foole. 
Accius.   Will  I  ?  I  faith,  sir,  no. 
1 10     SteL   Wherefore  came  you  hether,  Siiena^  without  leaue  ? 
SiL   Because  I  dyd,  and  I  am  heere  because  I  am. 
Stei.   Poore  wench,  thy  wit  is  improued  to  the  vttermost. 
Half.   I,  tis   an  hard  matter  to  haue  a  wit  of  the  olde  rent; 
euerie  one  rackes  his  commons  so  high. 
115      Memp.  (jiside).  Z^r^m/V?  tolde  mee  that  one  should  meete  •S/^///V?x 
daughter,  and  courte  her  in  person  of  my  sonne. 

SteL  (^aside),  Risio  tolde  me  one  shoulde  meete  Memphios  sonne, 
and  pleade  in  place  of  my  daughter. 

Memp.  {aside).   But  alas,  I  see  that  my  sonne  hath  met  wyth 
lao  Siiena  himselfe,  and  bewraid  his  folly. 

SteL  {aside).   But  I  see  my  daughter  hath  pratled  with  Accius^ 
and  discouered  her  simplicitie. 

Lucio.  A  braue  crie  to  heare  the  two  olde  mules  weep  ouer  the 
young  fooles. 
125      Memp.  Accius^  how  lykest  thou  Siiena  f 
Accius.   I  take  her  to  be  pregnant 
SiL   Truly  his  talke  is  very  personable. 
SteL   Come  in,  girle  :  this  geare  must  be  fetcht  about, 
Memp.  Come,  Accius^  let  vs  go  in. 
130     Ludo  {to  Stellio).   Nay,  sir,  there  is  no  harme  done ;  they  haue 

104  hither  ^'  rest        107  How  chance ?  Dromio  bid  me.  DiL        111  am*  ^^ : 
came  rest  1 17  Stel.  Risio .  . .  sonne  (^  only.    The  rest  print  and  pleade  .  .  . 

daughter  as  continuation  of  Memphio's  preceding  speech,  old  eds.  placing  fresh  prejix 
Memp.  before  But  alas  123  to  before  weepe  Q^  Bl.  mods.  136  pregnant 

(^ :  repugnant  rest 

p  a 


aia  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [activ 

neither  bought  nor  solde :  they  may  be  twinnes  for  theyr  wits  and 
yeeres. 

Memp.  {to  Halfpenny).  But  why  diddest  thou  tell  mee  it  was 
Sperantus  sonne  ? 

JIaif,  Because  I  thought  thee  a  foole,  to  aske  who  thine  owne  135 
Sonne  was. 

Lucio  {to  Stellio).  And  so,  sir,  for  your  daughter,  education  hath 
done  much,  otherwise  they  are  by  nature  softe  wytted  inough. 

Memp.  Alas,  theyr  ioyntes  are  not  yet  tied,  they  are  not  yet  come 
to  yeeres  and  discretion.  143 

Accius,   Father,  if  my  handes  bee  tyed,  shall  I  growe  wise  ? 

Half,   I,  and  Silena  too,  if  you  tie  them  fast  to  your  tongues. 

Si7.  You  may  take  your  pleasure  of  my  tongue,  for  it  is  no  mans 
wife. 

Memp,    Come  in,  Accius.  145 

Stel,  Come  in,  Silena :  I  wyll  talke  with  MempMos  sonhe ;  but 
as  for  Risio —  / 

Memp.  As  for  Dromio —  f 

Exeunt  Memphio^  Accius,  Stellio^  Silena. 

Half.  Asse  for  you  all  foure ! 

Enter  Dromio,  Risio. 

Dro.  How  goes  the  worlde  now  ?  We  haue  made  all  sure  ;  Candius  150 
and  Liuia  are  maryed,  their  fathers  consenting,  yet  not  knowing. 

Lucio.  We  haue  fiat  mard  all !  Accius  and  Silena  courted  one 
another ;  their  fathers  toke  them  napping ;  both  are  ashamd ;  and 
you  both  shall  be  swingd. 

Eis.  Tush  !  let  vs  alone  :  we  will  perswade  them  that  all  fals  out  155 

for  the  best ;  for  if  vnderhande  this  match  had  bene  concluded, 

they  both  had  ben  coosned ;  and  now  seeing  they  finde  both  to  bee 

fooles,  they  may  be  both  better  aduised.      But  why  is  HcUfepenie 

so  sad? 

^/i/^  Hackneyman,  Sergeant 

Half.   Because  I  am  sure  1  shall  neuer  bee  a  pennie.  160 

Eis.  Rather  praie  there  bee  no  fall  of  monie,  for  thou  wilt  then 
go  for  a  que. 

134  Spenmtm]  Prisiiis  all  eds.  See  mv  tmendation  rf  the  prefixes  11.  79-S4 
140  and  so  all  142  too  Q*  rest :  to  Q^  150  worldfe,  now  we  all  eds,,  Dil. 
F.  am.  comma  at  world  156  'vnderhande,   Q^ :   I  vnderstand  rest^  DU.  nt- 

peating  if  bef.  this  i6a  qae  old  eds.  i.  e.  q.  as  Dil. :  larthiog  F, 


sc.li]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  213 

Dro.   But  did  not  the  two  fooles  currantly  court  one  another  ? 
Ludo,   Verie  good  words,  fitly  applyed,  brought  in  the  nicke. 
165     Serg.  {laying  hand  on  Dromio).  I  arest  you. 

Dro.   Me,  sir !  why  then  didst  not  bring  a  stoole  wyth  thee,  that 
I  might  sit  downe  ? 
Hack,  Hee  arests  you  at  my  suite  for  a  horse. 
J^is.  The  more  Asse  hee !  if  hee  had  arested  a  mare  in  stead  of  ^ 
170  an  horse,  it  had  bin  but  a  slight  ouersight ;  but  to  arest  a  man  that 
hath  no  lykenesse  of  a  horse,  is  fiatte  lunasie  or  alecie. 
Hack.  Tush  !  I  hired  him  a  horse. 
Dro.  I  sweare  then  he  was  well  ridden. 
Hack.   I  think  in  two  daies  he  was  neuer  baited. 
1 75      Half.  Why,  was  it  a  beare  thou  ridst  on  ? 
Hack.   I  meane  he  neuer  gaue  him  bait. 
Lucio.  Why  he  tooke  him  for  no  fish. 

Hack,   I  mistake  none  of  you  when  I  take  you  for  fooles  \ — I  say 
thou  neuer  gauest  my  horse  meate. 
i8o     Dro.  Yes,  in  foure  and  fortie  houres  I  am  sure  he  had  a  bottle 
of  hay  as  big  as  his  belly. 
Serg.  Nothing  else  ?  thou  shouldest  haue  giuen  him  prouender. 
JRis.   Why  he  neuer  askt  for  anie. 
Hack.  Why,  doest  thou  thinke  an  horse  can  speake  ? 
185     Dro.  No,  for  1  spurd  him  till  my  heeles  akt  and  hee  sayd  neuer 
a  word. 

Hack.  Well,  thou  shalt  paie  sweetly  for  spoiling  him  !   it  was  as 
lustie  a  nag  as  anie  in  Rochester,  and  one  that  would  stand  vpon 
no  groimd. 
190     Dro.  Then  is  he  as  good  as  euer  he  was.    He  warrant  heele  do 
nothing  but  lie  downe. 

Hack.   I  lent  him  thee  gently. 

Dro.  And  I  restored  him  so  gently,  that  hee  neither  would  cry 
wyhie^  nor  wag  the  taile. 
195      Hack.   But  why  didst  thou  boare  him  thorough  the  eares  ? 

Lucio.   It  may  be  he  was  set  on  the  pillorie,  because  hee  had  not 
a  true  pace. 

Half.   No,  it  was  for  tyring. 

Hack.   He  would  neuer  tire :  it  may  be  he  would  be  so  wearie 
303  he  would  go  no  further,  or  so. 

170  but*  C*  only  183  Ria.]  Dro.  F.  wrongly  reporting  (^         for  om.  (^ 

Bl.  Dil.  190  is  he  Q^ :  hee  is  m/  194  wjhie]  Ual.  first  F. 


a  14  MOTHER  BOMBIfi  [actiV 

Dro.  Yes,  he  was  a  notable  horse  for  seruice ;  he  wold  tyre,  and 
retire. 

Hack,   Doe  you  thinke  He  be  iested  out  of  my  horse  ?    Sergeant, 
wreake  thy  office  on  him« 
Ris.   Nay,  stay,  let  him  be  baild.  205 

Hack,  So  he  shall  when  I  make  him  a  bargen. 
^        Dro.   It  was  a  verie  good  horse,  I  must  needs  confesse  ;  and  now 
hearken  to  his  qualities,  and  haue  patience  to  heare  them,  since 
I  must  paie  for  him.     He  would  stumble  three  houres  in  one  mile, 
I  had  thought  I  had  rode  vpon  addeces  betweene  this  and  Canter-  a  10 
burie ;    if  one  gaue  him  water,  why  he  would  lie  downe  &  bath 
himselfe  lyke  a  hauke :  if  one  ranne  him,  he  woulde  simper  and 
mump,  as  though  he  had  gone  a  wooing  to  a  maltmare  at  Rochester : 
hee  trotted  before  and  ambled  behinde,  and  was  so  obedient,  that 
he  would  doo  dutie  euerie  minute  on  his  knees,  as  though  euerie  215 
stone  had  bin  his  father. 

Hack,   I  am  sure  he  had  no  diseases. 

Dro^  A  little  rume  or  pose :  hee  lackt  nothing  but  an  hand- 
kercher. 

Serg,   Come,  what  a  tale  of  a  horse  haue  we  here !  I  can  not  stay,  220 
thou  must  with  me  to  prison. 

Eis,  If  thou  be  a  good  fellow^  Hacknyman,  take  all  our  foure 
-bondes  for  the  paiment :  thou  knowest  wee  are  towne  borne  children, 
and  wil  not  shrinke  the  citie  for  a  pelting  iade. 

Half,   He  enter  into  a  statute  Marchant  to  see  it  aunswered.     But  225 
if  thou  wilt  haue  bondes,  thou  shalt  haue  a  bushell  full. 

Hack,  Alas,  poore  Ant!  thou  bound  in  a  statute  marchant? 
a  browne  threed  will  bind  thee  fast  inough.  But  if  you  will  be 
content  all  foure  ioyntly  to  enter  into  a  bond,  I  will  withdrawe  the 
action.  230 

Dro.  Yes,  He  warrant  they  will.     How  say  you  ? 

Half.  lyeeld. 

Ris,  And  I. 

Lucio,  And  I. 

Hack,   Well,  call  the  Scriuener.  235 

Serg,   Heeres  one  hard  by :  He  call  him. 

(^Knocks  at  a  door, ) 

204  thine  Q^Bl,  mods,  205  stay,  (^  only  208  to'  ^*:  Kiirest  210 
•ddeces  QQ  {t,e.  adzei)  :  addtces  rest  218  rhenme  Bl,  mods,  222  Ris.1 

lU.  e» :  Li.  ^  BL :  Luc.  £>t7,  F,         fellow  Q^  only  227  poore]  poort  (^ 

s.  D.  [Knocks  at  a  door]  supplied  Dil, 


sc.li]  MOTHER  BOMBIfi  215 

His,  A  scriueners  shop  hangs  to  a  Sergeants  mase,  like  a  barrel  to 
a  freese  coate. 

Scri.  {within).   Whats  the  matter  ? 
240     Hack,   You  must  take  a  note  of  a  bond. 

Dro.   Nay,  a  pint  of  curtesie  puis  on  a  pot  of  wine.     In  this 
Taueme  weele  dispatch. 

Hack,   Agreed.  Exeunt  {ail  dufRiscio). 

Ris.   Now  if  our  wits  be  not  in  the  waine,  our  knauery  shall  bee 

245  at  the  full    They  will  ride  them  worse  than  Dromio  rid  his  horse, 

for  if  the  wine  master  their  wits,  you  shall  see  them  bleed  their 

foUyes.  Exit. 


ACT.  6. 

{Enter)  Dro,  Risio,  Lucio,  Halfpenie. 

Dromio.   Euerie  foxe  to  his  hole,  the  houndes  are  at  hande. 

Ris.  The  Sergeants  mase  lyes  at  pawne  for  the  reckning,  and  he 
vnder  the  boord  to  cast  it  vp. 

Lucio.  The  Scriuener  cannot  keepe  his  pen  out  of  the  pot :  euery 
5  goblet  is  an  inkhome. 

Half.  The  hackneyman  hee  whiskes  with  his  wande,  as  if  the 
Taueme  were  his  stable,  and  all  the  seruantes  his  horses :  '  lost  there 
vp,  bay  Richard ! ' — and  white  loaues  are  horsebread  in  his  eyes. 

Dro.  It  is  well  1  haue  my  acquitance,  and  hee  such  a  bond  as 
10  shall  doo  him  no  more  good  than  the  bond  of  a  faggot  Our 
knaueries  are  now  come  to  the  push,  and  wee  must  cunningly 
dispatch  all.  Wee  two  will  goe  see  howe  wee  may  appease  our 
masters,  you  two  howe  you  may  conceale  the  late  marriage :  if 
all  fall  out  amisse,  the  worst  is  beating ;  if  to  the  best,  the  worst ' 
15  is  lybertie. 

J^is.  Then  lettes  about  it  speedely,  for  so  many  yrons  in  the  fire 
together  require  a  diligent  Plummer.  Exeunt. 

237  Kom.  (^  s.  D.  [all  bat  Risdo]  added  Dil.  245  Thej]  we  Dil. 

SCB.  1]  See  8.  ^  s.  D.  Lucio]  Linceo  oldeds.        7-8  inv.  commas  first  in 

Dil,  9  acquitance]  acquaintance  Q'  Bl,  F,  sach  a  bond  Q' :  fttcn  bonds 

rest  13  the  (^\  joux  rest  16  &reom.  Q^ 


2X$  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actv 

ScE.  2. 

ViCINIA.      BOMBIE. 

(^Enter  Vicinia.) 

Vic,  My  heart  throbbes,  my  eares  tingle,  my  minde  misgiues 
mee,  since  I  heare  such  muttering  of  marryages  in  Rochester.  My 
conscience,  which  these  eighteene  yeeres  hath  beene  frosen  with 
coniealed  guiltynesse,  beginnes  nowe  to  thawe  in  open  griefe.  But 
I  wil  not  accuse  my  selfe  till  I  see  more  danger :  the  good  olde  5 
woman  Mother  Bombie  shall  trie  her  cunning  vpon  me;  and  if 
I  perceiue  my  case  is  desperate  by  her,  then  wyll  I  rather  preuent, 
although  with  shame,  then  report  too  late,  and  be  inexcusable. 
(^Knocks.  Enter  Mother  Bombie.)  God  speed,  good  mother. 
Bom,  Welcome,  sister.  to 

Vic,  I  am  troubled  in  the  nfght  with  dreames,  and  in  the  daie 
with  feares ;  mine  estate  bare,  which  I  cannot  well  beare ;  but  my 
practises  deuillish,  which  I  cannot  recall.  If  therefore  in  these  same 
yeeres  there  be  anie  deepe  skill,  tell  what  my  fortune  shall  be,  and 
what  my  fault  is.  15 

Bom.   In  studying  to  be  ouematurall. 
Thou  art  like  to  be  vnnaturall, 
And  all  about  a  naturaU : 
Thou  shalt  bee  eased  of  a  charge. 

If  thou  thy  conscience  discharge,  20 

And  this  I  commit  to  thy  charge. 
Vic,  Thou  hast  toucht  mee  to  the  quicke,  mother ;  I  vnderstand 
thy  meaning,  and  thou  well  knowest  my  practise,     I  will  follow  thy 
counsell.     But  what  wyll  bee  the  end  ? 
Bom.  Thou  shalt  know  before  this  daie  end :  farewel.  25 

Eocit  BoM. 
Vic.  Nowe  I  perceiue  I  must  either  bewraie  a  mischiefe,  or  suffer 
a  continual  inconuenience.  I  must  hast  homewardes,  and  resolue 
to  make  all  whole :  better  a  little  shame,  than  an  infinite  griefe. 
The  strangenes  will  abate  the  faulte,  and  the  bewraying  wipe  it 
cleane  away.  Exit,  30 

s.  D.  Vicinia  Q^,  here  and  below ^  II,  269,  272, 342 :  Vicina  (^  rest  2  such  Q^ : 
some  rest  3  bane  (?  Bl.  F, :  has  Dtl.  4  coniealed  QQ :  congealed  BL  F, : 
concealed  Dil.       this  hef.  coniealed  ^  rest  8  report  so  all         14  nie  after 

tdl  Bl  mods.  18  a  ^  only 


scin]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  217 

{Enter)  Three  Fidlers,  Synis,  Nasutus,  Bedunenus. 

Syn.  Come,  fellowes,  tis  almost  dale ;  let  vs  haue  a  fit  of  mirth  at 
Sperantus  doore,  and  giue  a  song  to  the  bride. 

Nas,   I  beleeue  they  are  asleepe :  it  were  pittie  to  awake  them. 

Bed,  Twere  a  shame  they  shoulde  sleepe  the  first  night 
5      Syn.   But  who  can  tell  at  which  house  they  lie  ?  at  Prisius  it  may 
be !  weele  trie  both. 

Nas,   Come  lets  drawe  lyke  men. 

Syn.  Now,  tune,  tune,  I  saie !  that  boy,  I  thinke  will  neuer  profit 
in  his  facultie !  he  looses  his  rosen,  that  his  fiddle  goes  cush,  cush, 
10  like  as  one  should  go  wet-shod ;  and  his  mouth  so  drie  that  he  hath 
not  spittle  for  his  pinne  as  I  haue. 

Bed,  Mary,  sir,  you  see  I  go  wetshod  and  dry  mouthd,  for  yet 
could  I  neuer  get  newe  shooes  or  good  drinke ;  rather  than  He  leade 
this  life,  I  throw  my  fiddle  into  the  leads  for  a  hobler. 
15  Syn,  Boy,  no  more  words !  theres  a  time  for  al  things.  Though 
I  say  it  that  should  not,  I  haue  bene  a  minstrell  these  thirtie  yeeres, 
and  tickled  more  strings  than  thou  hast  haires,  but  yet  wa3  neuer  so 
misused. 

NcLS.   Let  vs  not  brabble  but  play :  to  morrow  is  a  new  daie. 
20     Bed,   I  am  sorrie  I  speake  in  your  cast    What  shall  wee  sing  ? 

Syn,  The  Loue-knot,  for  thats  best  for  a  bridall. 

Sing, 
Good  morow,  fayre  bride,  and  send  you  ioy  of  your  bridalL 

Sperantus  lookes  out. 

Spe,  What  a  mischiefe  make  the  twanglers  here?  we  haue  no 
trenchers  to  scrape :  it  makes  my  teeth  on  edge  to  heare  such  grating. 
35  Get  you  packing !  or  He  make  you  weare  double  stockes,  and  yet 
you  shall  bee  neuer  the  warmer. 

Syn,  We  come  for  good  will,  to  bidd  the  bride  and  bridegroome, 
God  giue  them  ioy. 

Spe,   Heres  no  wedding. 

s.  D.  Bedunenus]  Bedvnens  (^  o  roson  0*  •   Rozen  Bl, :  rotin  Dil, : 

razon  F,  14  I  G^ :  He  Q*^  Bl,  F, :  I'll  Dil,  15  therei  a  (^\  there  is 

rest  S.D.  Sing.]  rMVJ.  alleds, :  ai  end  rflim  Q^,    Frvd,  stagi-dinctiim  as 

F,  first  suggests  22  Good]  God  QQ,    Dil,  assigns  Good  . . .  bridall  to  Nas. 

23  makes  Dil,        twangeis  (^ Bl,  mods.  29  Hexes]  Hers  (^ 


«i8  MOTHER  BOMBIfi  tACTV 

Syn.  Yes,  your  sonne  and  Prisius  daughter  were  maryed :  though  30 
you  seeme  strange,  yet  they  repent  it  not,  I  am  sure. 

Spe,   My  sonne,  villaine  !  I  had  rather  hee  were  fairely  hanged. 
Nas,   So  he  is,  sir ;  you  haue  your  wish. 

Enter  Candius. 

Can.   Here,  fidlers,  take  this,  and  not  a  worde:    heere  is  no 
wedding,  it  was  at  Memphios  house;  yet,  gramercy!  your  musicke,  35 
though  it  mist  the  house,  hit  the  minde ;  we  were  a  preparing  our 
wedding  geare. 

Syn,  I  crie  you  mercie,  sir,  I  thinke  it  was  Memphios  sonne  that 
was  married.  (^Exit  Candius.) 

Spe.  O  ho,  the  case  is  altered !  goe  thether  then,  and  be  haltered  40 
for  me. 

Nas.   Whats  the  almes  ? 

Syn,  An  Angell. 

Bed.  He  warrant  thers  some  worke  towards:  ten  shillings  is 
money  in  master  Maiors  purse.  45 

Syn,  Let  vs  to  Memphios  and  share  equally ;  when  we  haue  done 
all,  thou  shalt  haue  new  shooes. 

Bed,  I,  such  as  they  cry  at  the  Sizes,  a  marke  in  issues,  and 
marke  in  issues,  and  yet  I  neuer  sawe  so  much  leather  as  would 
peece  ones  shooes.  50 

Syn.   No  more  1  thers  the  mony. 

Bed.  A  good  handsell,  and  I  thinke  the  maidenhead  of  your 
liberalitie. 

J\ras.  Come,  heres  the  house :  what  shall  we  sing  ? 

Syn.   You  know  Memphio  is  verie  rich  and  wise,  and  therefore  55 
let  vs  strike  the  gentle  stroke,  and  sing  a  catch.  Sing. 

Song. 

Ai/ s.    T^He  Bride  this  Night  can  catch  no  cold; 

-L      No  cold,  the  Bridegroome's  yong,  not  old, 
Like  lule  he  her  fast  does  hold, 

1  Fid.  And  clips  her,  5o 

2  „  And  lips  her. 

3  „  And  flips  her  too. 

A//  3.   Then  let  them  alone,  they  know  what  they  doe. 

s.  D.  [Exit  Candius]  cm,  ail  eds,  tkaugk  they  record  his  re-entry  below  40 

Spe.  om.  Q*        48  and  om.  Bl.  Dil,        50  ones  Q^\    my  rest        s.D.  Sing.] 
as  stage-direction  (^ :  as  text,  rest.    BL  alone  of  old  eds,  gives  the  words 


SC.1II]  MOTHER  BOMBIfi  4 19 

I  Fid,  At  laugh  and  lie  downe,  if  they  play, 

5^         2    ,,  What  Asse  against  the  sport  can  bray? 

3     „  Such  Tick-tacke  has  held  many  a  day, 

1  ,,  And  longer. 

2  „  And  stronger. 

3  ,,  It  still  holds  too. 

70         All  3.    Then  let  them  alone,  they  know  what  they  doe^ 

This  Night, 
In  delight 
Does  thump  away  sorrow. 
Of  billing 
ye  Take  your  filling, 

So  good  morrow,  good  morrow. 

Nas,   Good  morrowe,  mistres  bride,  and  sende  you  a  huddle. 

Memp.  (above).   What  crouding  knaues  haue  we  there  ?  case  vp 
your  fiddles,  or  the  cunstable  shall  cage  you  vppe !     What  bride 
80  talke  you  of? 

Syn,  Heres  a  wedding  in  Rochester,  and  twas  tolde  me  first  that 
Sperantus  son  had  married  Frisius  daughter.  We  were  there,  and 
they  sent  vs  to  your  worshippe,  saying  your  son  was  matched  with 
Slellios  daughter. 
85  Memp,  Hath  Sperantus  that  churle  nothing  to  doe  but  mocke  his 
neighbours?  He  bee  euen  with  him!  And  get  you  gone,  or 
I  sweare  by  the  roodes  bodie  He  laye  you  by  the  heeles. 

Nas,   Sing  a  catch  ?  heres  a  faire  catch  in  deed !  sing  til  we  catch 
colde  on  our  feet,  and  bee  caid  knaue  tyll  our  eares  glowe  on  our 
5^  heades !    Your  worshippe  is  wise,  sir. 

Memp,  Drotnio^  shake  off  a  whole  kennel  of  officers,  to  punish 
these  iarring  rogues.  He  teach  them  to  stretch  theyr  dried  sheepes 
guts  at  my  doore,  and  to  mock  one  that  stands  to  be  maior. 

Dro,  {above),    I  had  thought  they  had  beene  sticking  of  pigs, 
95  I  heard  such  a  squeaking.     I  go,  sir. 

Syn.   Let  vs  be  packing. 

Nas,  Where  is  my  scabbarde  ?  euerye  one  sheath  his  science. 

Bed,   A  bots  on  the  shoomaker  that  made  this  boote  for  my 

fiddle :  tis  too  straight. 

100      Syn,   No  more  wordes!   twill  bee  thought  they  were  the  foure 

waites,  and  let  them  wring ;  as  for  the  wagges  that  set  vs  on  worke, 

wele  talke  with  them.  Exeunt, 

77  Good]  God  QQ  78  [above]  DiL  suppL  Memphio  looks  oat  85 

with  before  his  (^  Bl,  mods,  9  a  rogues  Q^\  tongues  rest 


a2Q  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [acty 

{Enter)  Memphio,  Dromio. 

Dro.   They  be  gone,  sir. 

Memp.  If  they  had  stayed,  the  stockes  shoulde  haue  staled  them. 
But,  sirra,  what  shall  we  now  doo  ?  ^^h 

Dro.  As  I  aduised  you,  make  a  match  j  for  better  one  house  be 
cumbred  with  two  fooles  than  two. 

Memp,  Tis  true:  for  it  beeing  bruted  that  eache  of  vs  haue 
a  foole,  who  will  tender  marriage  to  anie  of  them,  that  is  wise? 
besides,  fooles  are  fortunate,  fooles  are  faire,  fooles  are  honest.  i^o 

Dro,  I,  sir,  and  more  than  that,  fooles  are  not  wise :  a  wise  man 
is  melancholy  for  moone-shine  in  the  water;  carefull,  building 
castles  in  the  ayre ;  &  commonly  hath  a  foole  to  his  heyre, 

Memp,   But  what  sayest  thou  to  thy  dames  chafing  ? 

Dro.   Nothing,  but  all  her  dishes  are  chafing  dishes.  115 

Memp.   I  would  her  tongue  were  in  thy  belly. 

Dro.   I  had  as  liefe  haue  a  rawe  neates  tongue  in  my  stomacke. 

Memp.   Why? 

Dro.   Marie,  if  the  clapper  hang  within  an  inch  of  my  heart,  that 
makes  mine  eares  bume  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  do  you  not  thinke  i  ao 
it  would  beate  my  heart  blacke  and  blew  ? 

Memp.  Well,  patience  is  a  vertue,  but  pinching  is  worse  than  any 
vice !  I  wil  breake  this  matter  to  Stellio^  and  if  he  be  willing,  this 
day  shall  be  their  wedding. 

Dro.   Then  this  day  shall  be  my  libertie.  125 

Memp.  I,  if  Steiiios  daughter  had  beene  wise,  and  by  thy  meanes 
cosned  of  a  foole. 

Dro.  Then,  sir,  He  reuolt,  and  dash  out  the  braines  of  your 
deuises. 

Memp.   Rather  thou  shalt  be  free.  Exeunt.  130 

{Enter)  Sperantus,  Halfepenie,  Prisius,  Lucio. 

Spe.  Boy,  this  smoake  is  a  token  of  some  fire,  I  lyke  not  the  lucke 
of  it    Wherefore  should  these  minstrelles  dreame  of  a  marryage  ? 

HtUf.  Alas,  sir,  they  rustle  into  euery  place.  Giue  credit  to  no 
such  wordes. 

Spe.    I  will  to  Prisius :  I  cannot  be  quiet — ^and  in  good  time  I  meet  1 35 
him.     Good  morow,  neighbor. 

106  adnise  O*  Bl.  mods.         109  wise?]  wise,  oldeds. :  wise;  Dil.  F.  120 

off,  do  DiL :  off.   TUiM  tds.  F.       %.  D.  Lucio]  Linoeo  Q* :  Undo  (^  BL        131 
A  Q^  only  Incke]  k)ok  DiL  156  Good  mod.  tds. :  God  QQ  BL 


sciii]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  22 1 

Pris.   I  cast  the  morrow  in  thy  face,  &  bid  good  night  to  all 
neighborhood. 

Spe.   This  is  your  olde  tricke,  to  pick  ones  purse  &  then  to  picke 
140  quarrels :  I  tell  thee,  I  had  rather  thou  shouldest  rob  my  chest,  than 
imbesell  my  sonne. 

Pris.   Thy  sorme  ?  my  daughter  is  seduced  t  for  I  hear  say  she 
is  marryed,  and  our  boyes  can  tell. — (^To  Lucio.)  How  sayest  thou  ? 
tell  the  truth  or  He  grinde  thee  to  pouder  in  my  mill.     Be  they 
145  marryed  ? 

Lucio.  True  it  is  they  were  both  in  a  chtux:h. 
Fris.   Thats  no  fault,  the  place  is  holy. 
Half.   And  there  was  with  them  a  priest. 
Spe.  Why  what  place  fitter  for  a  priest  than  a  church  ? 
150     Lucio.   And  they  tooke  one  another  by  the  hand. 
Fris.   Tush !  thats  but  common  curtesie. 
LLalf.   And  the  priest  spake  many  kinde  wordes. 
Spe,   That  shewed  hee  was  no  dumbe  minister.    But  what  sayde 
they  ?  diddest  thou  heare  anie  wordes  betweene  them  ? 
155      Lucio.   Faith  there  was  a  bargaine  during  life,  and  the  clocke 
cryed,  God  giue  them  ioy. 
Pris.   Villaine !  they  be  marryed ! 
JlcJf.   Nay,  I  thinke  not  so. 

Spe.  Yes,  yes !    God  giue  you  ioy  is  a  binder !    He  quickly  be 
160  resolud.     Candius^  come  forth. 

(^Re')Enter  Candius. 
Pris.  And  He  be  put  out  of  doubt    lAuia^  come  forth. 

{Enter)  LiuiA. 

Spe.   The  micher  hangs  downe  his  head ! 

Pris.   The  baggage  begins  to  blush  ! 

Half,   Now  begins  the  game  I 
165      Lucio.   I  beleeue  it  will  be  no  game  for  vs. 

Spe.   Are  you  marryed,  yong  master  ? 

Can.    I  cannot  denie  it,  it  was  done  so  lately. 

Spe,   But  thou  shalt  repent  it  was  done  so  soone. 

Pris.   Then  tis  bootlesse  to  aske  you,  Liuia. 
170     Livia,    I,  and  needlesse  to  be  angrie. 

137  face]  late  Q}^  141  imbeasell  Bl.  F. :  embezzle  Dil.  144  pow« 

dcded  (^  155  clocke]  clerk  Dil.  without  authority^  but  perhaps  rightly 


22^  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actv 

Pns^  It  shall  passe  anger ;  thou  shalt  finde  it  rage. 

Uvia,   You  gaue  your  consent 

Pris,  Impudent  giglot,  was  it  not  inough  to  abuse  me,  but  also  to 
belie  me  ? 

Can,   You,  sir,  agreed  to  this  match.  1 75 

Spe.  Thou  brasen  face  boy,  thinkest  thou  by  learning  to  persuade 
me  to  that  which  thou  speakest  ?  Where  did  I  consent,  when,  what 
witnes  ? 

Can,   In  this  place  yesterday  before  Droniio  and  Risio, 

Pris,   I  remember  we  heard  a  contract  between  Memphios  sonne  180 
and  Stellios  daughter ;  and  that  our  good  wils  being  asked,  which 
needed  not,  wee  gaue  them,  which  booted  not. 

Can,  Twas  but  the  apparell  oi  Accius  and  Sikna;  we  were  the 
persons. 

Pris,   O  villany  not  to  be  borne !    (^To  Lucio.)   Wast  thou  priuie  185 
to  this  practise  ? 

Lucio,   In  a  manner. 

Pris,   He  pay  thee  after  a  manner. 

Spt,  And  you,  oatemeale  groate !  you  were  acquainted  with  this 
plot.  190 

Half,   Accessarie,  as  it  were. 

Spt,  Thou  shalt  be  punished  as  principal :  here  comes  Memphio 
and  SieUio ;  they  belike  were  priuie,  and  all  theyr  heads  were  layde 
together  to  grieue  oiu:  heartes. 

Enter  Memphio,  Stellio,  (Dromio,  Riscio). 

Memp,    Come,  Stellio^  the  assurance  may  be  made  to  morrow,  and  195 
our  children  assured  to  day. 

SUL   Let  the  conueyance  runne  as  we  agreed. 

Pris,  You  conuey  cleanely  in  deede,  if  coosnage  bee  cleane  deal- 
ing, for  in  the  apparell  of  your  children  you  haue  conuaide  a  match 
betweene  ours,  which  grieues  vs  not  a  little.  200 

Memp,  Nay,  in  the  apparel  of  your  children,  you  haue  discouerd 
the  folly  of  ours,  which  shames  vs  ouermuch. 

Stel,  But  tis  no  matter;  though  they  bee  fooles  they  are  no 
beggers. 

Spe,   And  thogh  ours  be  disobedient,  they  be  no  fools.  205 

Dro,   So  now  they  tune  theyr  pipes. 

188  pay]  pray  Q*  BL  s.  D.    [Dromio,  Riscio]  supplied  Dil,  aoa 

ihamet  J  shame  F, 


SC.III]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  U3 

J^is.  You  shal  heare  sweet  musicke  betweene  a  hoarse  rauen  and 
a  schritch  owle. 

Memp,   Neighbours,  let  vs  not  vary :  our  boyes  haue  playd  theyr 
2  lo  cheating  partes.     I  suspected  no  lesse  at  the  Taueme,  where  our 
foure  knaues  met  together. 

Ris,   If  it  were  knauery  for  foure  to  meet  in  a  Taueme,  youi: 
worships  wot  well  there  were  other  foure. 

SUL   This  villaine  cals  vs  knaues  by  craft. 
215     Ludo.   Nay,  truly,  I  dare  sweare  hee  vsed  no  crafte,  but  meanes. 
plainly. 

Spe.   This  is  worse!    come,  Halfeptnie^  tel  truth  &  scape  the 
rod. 

Half,   As  good  confesse  heere  beeing  trust,  as  at  home  with  my 
2  30  hose  about  my  heeles. 

Dro,   Nay,  He  tell  thee,  for  twill  neuer  become  thee  to  vtter  it. 

Memp,    Well,  out  with  it. 

Dro.  Memphio  had  a  foole  to  his  sonne,  which  Stellio  knew  not ; 
Stellio  a  foole  to  his  daughter,  vnknowen  to  Memphio ;  to  coosen 
a 25  eache  other,  they  dealte  with  theyr  boyes  for  a  match ;  we  met 
with  Lucio  and  Halfepenie  who  told  the  loue  betweene  their 
masters  children,  the  youth  deeply  in  loue,  the  fathers  vnwilling  to 
consent 

Ris,  He  take  the  tale  by  the  end, — then  wee  foure  met,  which 
330  argued  we  were  no  mountaines;  and  in  a  tauem  we  met,  which 
argued  we  were  mortall ;  and  euery  one  in  his  wine  told  his  dayes 
worke,  which  was  a  signe  we  forgot  not  our  busines ;  and  seeing  all 
our  masters  troubled  with  deuises,  we  determined  a  little  to  trouble 
the  water  before  they  dronke  ;  so  that  in  the  attire  of  your  children 
335  our  masters  wise  children  bewrayed  theyr  good  natures ;  and  in  the 
garments  of  our  masters  children  yours  made  a  marriage;  this  all 
stoode  vppon  vs  poore  children,  and  your  yong  children,  to  shewe 
that  olde  folkes  may  be  ouertaken  by  children. 

Fris,   Heres  a  children  indeed !    He  neuer  forget  it. 
340     Memp,    I  will !    Accius,  come  forth. 

Stel,    I  forgiue  all !    Si/ena,  come  forth. 

210  cheating]  chcaring  Q^  Bl,  Dil,        aio-i  onr  foure]  foure  foure  QQ        213 
worships  Dil,  F, :  wor.  old  eds,  217  Halfepenie  Bl,  tnods, :  Half.  QQ        219 

honfesse  Q}^        trust  all  eds.  for  trussed        226  Lucio]  Lincio  old  ccb,        227  un- 
willing Dil, :  vnwitting  old  eds,  F.  239  a  QQ  only 


224  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actv 

{Enter  AcCius  and  Silena.) 

Spe.  Neighbor,  these  things  cannot  be  recald,  therefore  as  good 
consent ;  seeing  in  all  our  purposes  also  we  mist  the  marke^  for  they 
two  will  match  their  children. 

Pris.   Well  of  that  more  anone ;  not  so  sodainely,  least  our  vn-  245 
gratious  youths  thinke  we  dare  do  no  other ;  but  in  truth  their  loue 
stirres  vp  nature  in  me. 

Mtmp.  Come,  Accius^  thou  must  be  marryed  to  Silena.  How  art 
thou  minded  ? 

Accius.   What  for  euer  and  euer  ?  250 

Memp,   I,  Acaus,  what  els  ? 

Acdus.   I  shall  neuer  be  able  to  abide  it,  it  will  be  so  tedious. 

Stel.  StVena,  thou  must  be  betrothed  to  Acaus,  &  loue  him  for  thy 
husband. 

Si/.   I  had  as  liefe  haue  one  of  clouts.  ^f  5 

Ste/.   Why,  Siiena  ? 

5/7.    Why  looke  how  he  lookes. 

Accius.    If  you  will  not,  another  will. 

Sil.   I  thanke  you  for  mine  olde  cap. 

Accius.   And  if  you  be  so  lustie,  lend  me  two  shillings.  360 

Pris.  (^to  Spe,).   We  are  happie  we  mist  the  foolish  match. 

Memp.   Come,  you  shall  presently  be  contracted. 

Dro.  Contract  their  wits  no  more,  they  bee  shronke  close 
already. 

Accius.   Well,  father,  heeres  my  hande ;  strike  the  bargaine.  365 

Sii.    Must  he  lie  with  me  ? 

Stel.   No,  Silena,  lie  by  thee. 

Accius.   I  shall  giue  her  the  humble-bees  kisse. 

^«/l?r  ViciNiA,  (MiESTius,  am/ Serena). 

Vic.   I  forbid  the  banes. 

Pis.  What,  doest  thou  thinke  them  rattes,  and  fearest  they  shall  270 
be  poisoned  ? 

Memp.  You,  Vicinia?  wherefore? 

Vic.  Hearken ! — ^about  eighteene  yeeres  agoe,  I  nurst  thee  a  sonne, 
Memphio,  and  thee  a  daughter,  Stellio. 

Stel.  True.  375 

Memp.   True. 

s.  D.    ViciNiA  QQ :  Vicina  Bi.  mods.  s.  D.  [M^STius  and  Serena]  sup» 

plied  Dil.  372  Vicioa  (^  Bl.  mods. 


St.  Ill]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  225 

Vic,   I  had  at  that  time  two  children  of  mine  owne ;  and  being 

poore,  thought  it  better  to  change  them  than  kill  them.     I  imagined 

if  by  deuice  I  coulde  thrust  my  children  into  your  houses,  they  should 

aSo  be  wel  brought  vp  in  their  youth,  and  wisely  prouided  for  in  their 

age :  nature  wrought  with  me,  and  when  they  were  weaned,  I  sent 

home  mine  in  sted  of  yours,  which  hetherto  you  haue  kept  tenderly 

as  yours :  growing  in  yeres  I  founde  the  children  I  kept  at  home  to 

loue  dearely,  at  first  lyke  brother  and  sister,  which  I  reioyced  at,  but 

285  at  length  too  forward  in  affection ;  which  although  inwardly  I  could 

not  mislike,  yet  openly  I  seemed  to  disallowe.     They  increased  in 

their  louing  humours ;  I  ceased  not  to  chastise  them  for  theyr  loose 

demeanors.    At  last  it  came  to  my  eares,  that  my  sonne  that  was 

out  with  Memphio  was  a  foole ;  that  my  daughter  with  Stellio  was  also 

290  vnwise ;  and  yet  beeing  brother  and  sister,  there  was  a  match  in 

hammering  betwixt  them. 

Memp,   What  monstrous  tale  is  this  ? 
SicL   And  I  am  sure  incredible. 
Spe,   Let  her  end  her  discourse. 
295      Accius,   He  neuer  beleeue  it  1 
Memp,   Holde  thy  peace ! 

Vic,  My  verie  bowels  earned  within  me,  that  I  shuld  be  author 
of  such  vilde  incest,  an  hinderance  to  lawfull  loue.  I  went  to  the 
good  olde  woman,  Mother  Bombie^  to  knowe  the  euent  of  this 
300  practise ;  who  tolde  mee  this  day  I  might  preuent  the  danger,  and 
ypon  submission  escape  the  punishment  Hether  I  am  come  to 
claime  my  children,  though  both  fooles,  and  to  deliuer  yours,  both; 
louing. 

Memp,  Is  this  possible  ?  how  shall  we  beleeue  it  ? 
305      SteL   It  cannot  sinke  into  my  head. 

Vic,  This  triall  cannot  faile.  Your  sonne  Memphio j  had  a  moale 
vnder  his  eare :  I  framed  one  vnder  my  childes  eare  by  arte ;  you 
shall  see  it  taken  away  with  the  iuyce  of  mandrage ;  beholde  nowe 
for  your  sonnes,  no  hearbe  can  vndo  that  nature  hath  done.  Your 
310  daughter,  Stellio^  hath  on  her  wrist  a  moale,  which  I  counterfeted 
on  my  daughters  arme,  &  that  shall  you  see  taken  away  as  the  other. 
Thus  you  see  I  doe  not  dissemble,  hoping  you  will  pardon  me,  as 
I  haue  pittied  them. 

279  should  (^ :  would  rest  288  demeanor  F,  2Q7  earned]  yearned 

mods.  298  vilde  QQ :    vile  Bl,  mods,  an]  and  Dil,  perhaps  rightljf 

299  good  olde]  ^pld  Bl. :   good  Dil,  302-3  your  both  louing  (^ :  yours 

both  lining  <^  rest,  Dil.  inserting  comma  at  yoois  ... 


BOND  III 


236  MOTHER  BOMBIE  [actv 

Memp,  This  is  my  sonne.    O  fortunate  Memphio  / 

SteL  This  is  my  daughter,  more  than  thrice  happie  5/f///<t?/  315 

Mast,  How  happie  is  Mastius^  how  blessed  Serena^  that  being 
neither  children  to  poore  parents,  nor  brother  and  sister  by  nature, 
may  inioye  their  loue  by  consent  of  parents  and  nature, 

Accius.   Soft,  He  not  swap  my  father  for  all  this. 

SiL  What,  do  you  thinke  He  bee  cosned  of  my  father  ?  me  thinkes  S^o 
I  should  not !  Mother  Bombit  tolde  me  *  my  father  knew  mee  not, 
my  mother  bore  mee  not,  falsely  bred,  truly  begot,' — a  bots  on 
Mother  Bomby  1 

Dro,  Mother  Bombie  tolde  vs  we  should  be  founde  coosners,  and 
in  the  end  be  cosned  by  cosners :  wel  fare  Mother  Bomby  /  3»5 

Ris.  I  heard  Mother  Bomby  saie  that  thou  shalt  die  a  beggar ; 
beware  of  Mother  Bomby  ! 

Fris,  Why  haue  you  all  bene  with  Mother  Bomby  f 

Lucia,  ^11,  and  as  farre  as  I  can  see  (she)  foretolde  all. 

Memp,   In  deed  she  is  cunning  and  wise,  neuer  doing  harme,  but  330 
still  practising  good.     Seeing  these  things  fall  out  thus,  are  you 
content,  Steilio,  the  match  goe  forward  ? 

SteL  I,  with  double  ioye,  hauing  found  for  a  foole  a  wise  maide, 
and  finding  betweene  them  both  exceeding  loue. 

Fris,  Then  to  end  all  iars,  bur  childrens  matches  shall  stand  335 
with  our  good  liking.    Liuia^  inioy  Candius. 

Spe,    Candius,  inioy  Liuia^ 

Can,  How  shall  we  recompence  fortune,  that  to  our  loues  hath 
added  our  parents  good  wills  ? 

Mast,    How  shall  wee  requite  fortune,  that  to  our  loues  hath  340 
added  lawfulnesse,  and  to  our  poore  estate  competent  liuing  ? 

Memp,  Vtcinia,  thy  fact  is  pardoned ;  though  the  law  would  see 
it  punisht.  Wee  be  content  to  keepe  Silena  in  the  house  with  the 
new  married  couple. 

SteL  And  I  doo  maintaine  Accius  in  our  house.  3^5 

Vic.  Come,  my  children,  though  fortune  hath  not  prouided  you 
landes,  yet  you  see  you  are  not  destitute  of  friends.  I  shall  be  eased 
of  a  charge  both  in  purse  and  conscience :  in  conscience,  having 
reuealed  my  lewd  practise ;  in  purse,  hauing  you  kept  of  almes; 

Accius,  Come,  if  you  bee  my  sister,  its  the  better  for  you,  350 

316  hovr^ihovL  all  eds,jDil,  placing  comma  aih\txsc^  321-a  inv,  com, first  F, 

335  wel  fare  F. :  welfare  old,  eds, :  farewell  DU,  Bomby]  Bom.  Bl,  DiL 

339  [she]  inserted  DU,            34a  Vidua  (^  BL  mods,  34B  haying  mods. ; 
bane  oldeds^           350  its  ^:  tis  ^  nst 


sciii]  MOTHER  BOMBIE  227 

Si/.  ComCi  brother,  me  thinkes  its  better  than  it  was :  I  should 
haue  beene  but  a  balde  bride*  He  eate  as  much  pie  as  if  I  had 
bene  marryed. 

Memp.  Lets  also  forgiue  the  knauerie  of  our  boyes,  since  all  tumes 
355  to  our  good  haps. 

SteL  Agreed :  all  are  pleased  nowe  the  boyes  are  vnpunisht* 

Enter  Hackneyman,  Sergeant,  Scriuener. 

Hack.   Nay,  softe,  take  vs  with  you,  and  seeke  redresse  for  our 
wrongs,  or  weele  complaine  to  the  Maior. 
Pris,  Whats  the  matter  ? 
360     Hack,   I    arested  Memphios  boye  for  an  horse.      After  much 
mocking,  at  the  request  of  his  fellowe  wagges,  I  was  content  to  take 
a  bonde  ioyntlye  of  them  all :  they  had  me  into  a  taueme ;  there  they 
made  me,  the  Scriuener,  and  the  Sergeant,  dronke,  paunde  his  mase 
for  the  wine,  and  seald  mee  an  obligation  nothing  to  the  purpose  : 
365  I  pray  you,  reade  it. 

Memp.  What  wags  be   these !     Why  by  this  bond  you   can 
demand  nothing ;  and  thinges  done  in  drinke  may  be  repented  in 
sobemes,  but  not  remedyed. 
Dro.   Sir,  I  haue  his  acquittaunce :  lette  him  sue  his  bonde. 
370     Hack.   He  crie  quittance  with  thee. 

Serg.  And  I,  or  it  shall  cost  me  the  laying  on  freelie  of  my  mase. 
Scri.  And  He  giue  thee  such  a  dash  with  a  pen  as  shall  cost 
thee  many  a  pound,  with  such  a  Nauerint  as  Cheapside  can  shew 
none  such. 
375     Half.  Doe  your  worst ;  our  knaueries  will  reuenge  it  vpon  your 
childrens  children. 

Memp.  Thou  boy !     {To  Hackneyman.)  We  wil  paie  the  hire  of 

the  horse  :  be  not  angrie ;  the  boyes  haue  bene  in  a  merrie  cosning 

vaine,  for  they  haue  serued  their  masters  of  the  same  sorte ;  but  all 

380  niust  be  forgotten.      Now  all  are  content  but  the  poore  fidlers : 

they  shal  be  sent  for  to  the  marriage,  &  haue  double  fees. 

Dro,  You  need  no  more  send  for  a  fidler  to  a  feast,  than  a  beggei 
to  a  fayre. 

SteL  This  daie  ve  will  feast  at  my  house. 
385      Memp.   To  morrow  at  mine. 

351  itB  ^^ :  'tis  BL  F, :  it  is  Dil.        360  horse  after  old eds,  F. :  horse;  after 
Dil.  363  pawnde  (^  BL  F. :  pawned  Dil,         369  acquaittance  BL         370 

rid/;        373  cheap  side  <7/rf^d:r.        375  renenge  (^        ITJ  Thou  boy!]  Then, 
boy,  DiL  378  cosning  Q^ :  cousoning  Q* :  cousening  BL  F. :  cozening  DU. 

Q2 


f28 


MOTHER  BOMBIE 


[act  V,  SC.  lit 

Pris.  The  next  day  at  mine# 
.    Sp€,  Thea  at  mine  the  last  day,  &  euen  so  spend  this  weeke  in 
gogd  cheere. 

Dro,  Then  ^e  were  best  be  going  whilest  euery  one  is  pleasd : 
and  yet  these  couples  are  not  fully  pleasde,  till  the  priest  haue  done  390 
his  worst 

Eis,   Come,  Sergeant,  weele  tosse  it  this  weeke,  and  make  thy 
mase  arest  a  boild  capon. 

Serg,   No  more  words  at  the  wedding :  if  the  maior  shuld  know 
it,  1  were  in  danger  of  mine  office.  595 

J^is,   Then  take  heed  how  on  such  as  we  are,  you  shew  a  cast  of 
your  office. 

Ifaif.   If  you  mace  vs,  weele  pepper  you. 

Accius,   Come,  sister,  the  best  is,  we  shall  haue  good  chere  these 
ibure  dayes.  400 

'■   Lucio,  And  be  fooles  for  euer. 

Sil,   Thats  none  of  our  vpseekings. 

{Exeunt.) 


FINIS. 


387  day  Q'  mly 


* 


THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE 


EDITIONS 

'  xzij  die  Septembris  •  1595.  Robert  Fyncbe.  Entred  for  bis  Copie  vnder  tb 
ftndes  of  botbe  the  wardens  a  booke  intitnled  a  woman  in  the  moone . . .  yj^.' 
Sta,  Reg,  iu.  48  (ed.  Arb.)*  This  is  the  only  entry  in  the  whde  Register  con- 
cerning Robert  Finch,  all  note  of  transference  of  rights  in  The  Wcwum  to  William 
Jones,  the  actual  publisher^  being  wanting* 

Q.  TKe  Woman  \  in  the  Moone.  \  As  it  was  prestnttd  before  \  her  Higkmsse,  \  By 
John  Lyllie  maister  |  rf  Artes,  \  Imprinted  ai  London  for  William  \  Jones^  and 
are  to  be  sold  at  the  signe  of  the  \  Gun,  neere  Holbume  Conduict,  \  1597.  |  4to« 
A-G  2  in  fours,  G  2  verso  blank.  No  col.  {Br,  Mus, :  Bodl, :  J>yce  Coll,  S, 
Kensing.) 

The  play  is  not  included  among  the  Sixe  Court  Comedies^  its  second  publication 
being  that  of  Fairholt's  edition  of  the  Dramatic  Worhs,  roh  ii.  1858. 


THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE 

Argument,  —  Nature  on  the  petition  of  the  shepherds  of  Utopia 
creates  a  woman  for  their  comrade,  and  dowers  her  with  the  several 
excellences  of  the  gods  who  preside  over  the  Seven  Planets.  The 
latter,  filled  with  envy,  determine  to  work  her  ruin  by  subjecting  her 
in  turn  to  their  influence.  Under  that  of  Saturn  she  repays  with 
a  moody  discourtesy  the  service  rendered  by  Gunophilus  (the  Clown 
of  the  piece)^  and  the  admiration  of  the  shepherds.  Under  that  of 
Jupiter  she  rejects  contemptuously  the  love  profiered  by  the  god  and 
the  sceptre  she  at  first  requested ;  she  exacts  exaggerated  demonstra- 
tions of  respect  from  Gunophilus,  and  delights  in  exercising  the 
shepherds  in  dangerous  tasks.  When  Mars  assumes  the  ascendant, 
he  brings  the  shepherds  to  blows  over  the  boar  they  have  killed ;  but 
Pandora  mingles  in  the  fray,  and  puts  them  all  to  rout  Sol^  suc- 
ceeding, makes  her  sweet-tempered  and  poetical :  she  apologizes  to 
Gunophilus  and  her  suitors^  selects  Stesias  as  her  husband,  and 
prophesies  their  happiness  in  oracular  verse.  Next,  Venus,  aided  by 
Cupid  and  Joculus,  renders  her  wanton :  she  makes  love  in  turn  to 
Gunophilus  and  the  three  other  shepherds,  Learchus,  Melos,  and 
Iphicles,  and  invites  them  to  a  banquet  Gunophilus,  jealous  of  the 
shepherds,  posts  Stesias  in  wait  in  a  cave,  but,  failing  to  give  the 
signal  till  the  banquet  with  its  jealousies  and  recriminations  is  over, 
only  receives  a  beating  for  his  pains.  Mercury,  assuming  sovereignty, 
fills  Pandora  with  the  spirit  of  lying  and  theft ;  while  the  shepherds, 
changed  also  to  intriguers  under  his  influence,  betray  her  conduct  to 
Stesias.  Warned  by  Gunophilus,  Pandora  parries  Stesias'  reproaches 
by  a  feigned  swoon,  and  represents  the  shepherds'  reports  as  caused 
by  jealousy  and  disappointed  love.  She  revenges  herself  on  them 
by  pretended  assignations,  at  which  Stesias,  in  his  wife's  clothes, 
meets  and  cudgels  them ;  while  she  herself  elopes  with  Gunophilus, 
carrying  her  husband's  treasure  along  with  her.  On  their  way  to  the 
coast,  however,  Zuna  assumes  sway,  causing  her  purpose  to  change 
and  her  wits  to  ^(rander.    Stesias  overtakes  them;  but  she  soon 


INTRODUCTION  231 

breaks  away  from  him,  and  finally  lies  down  to  sleep.  Stesias,  again 
assured  by  the  shepherds  of  her  treachery,  determines  to  kill  her : 
from  this,  however,  he  is  dissuaded  by  the  Planets,  and  finally 
Nature  assigns  her  a  place  in  the  Moon,  with  special  influence  over 
women  ;  while  Stesias,  appointed  to  attend  on  her  as  the  Man  in  the 
Moon,  in  his  anger  rends  Gunophilus^  who  has  been  changed  into 
a  hawthorn,  to  form  the  bush  at  his  back* 

Text. — I  follow  that  of  the  Quarto,  which  is  far  better  than  Fairholt'^ 
reprint  of  it,  correcting  its  errors,  and  inserting  many  necessary  stage- 
directions.  It  presents  about  twenty  mistakes  in  the  text^  and  seven- 
teen important  omissions  of  stage-directions  for  entry  or  exit,  especially 
the  latter.  Yet  it  is  distinguished  from  the  quarto  editions  of  f}}^^ 
other  plays  by  a  much  greater  fullness  and  frequency  ofjgther  stage- 
directions :  the  metre,  too,  is  well  preserved,  requiring  correction  in 
only  three  instances — a  circumstance  due  no  doubt  to  the  end-stoipped 
character  of  Lyly's  blank  verse. 

Fairholt  corrects  seventeen  errors  of  Q ;  but  introduces  twenty-five 
corruptions,  many  of  them  more  serious  than  those  which  he  corrects, 
e.g.  pp.  249,  'Calisco'  for  *Calisto';  253,  'where  thy'  for  'were 
they';  259,  'Utopia'  for  * Vtopiae ' ;  260,  'fortunae'  for  'fortuna'; 
268,  ^GunJ  for  *PanJ;  270,  'love'  for  'loue';  274,  *protenus* 
for  'protervus';  282,  'Musk  white'  for  'Milke  white,'  'breach* 
for  'breath.'  Yet  since  in  this  case  we  are  spared  the  interven- 
tion of  Blount's  carelessly-printed  edition,  Fairholt's  text  is  better 
for  this  play  than  for  most  of  the  rest ;  though  we  have  lost  the 
two  Songs  in  i.  i,  which  Blount  would  doubtless  have  given. 

Authorship.— (a)  'By  lohn  Lyllie  maister  of  Artes*  (tide-page 
of  Q) ;  (b)  the  allusion  '  Ceres  and  her  sacred  Nymphes,'  iil  i.  50,  is 
probably  to  the  Nymphs  of  Ceres  in  Zaves  Metamorphosis^  asserted 
to  be  Lyly's  on  its  title-page ;  and  in  iiL  2.  21-4  there  is  a  notable 
reproduction  of  an  opinion  strongly  emphasized  by  Lyly  in  Euphues 
and  his  England^  voL  iL  p.  160,  about  women's  attitude  towards 
a  man's  love. 

Date.  —  The  downward  limit  may,  in  the  case  of  a  play,  be  con- 
sidered as  supplied  by  the  entry  to  Robert  Finch  in  the  Stationers^ 
/Register,  under  date  Sept.  22,  1595,  of  a  'booke  intituled  a  woman 
in  the  moone,'  which  was  followed  in  due  course  by  its  publication 
in  1597  'for  William  lones.' 


232  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE 

For  the  upward  limit,  the  simflarity  noted  above  between  Venus* 
speech,  iii.  2.  11.  21-4,  and  the  argument  on  p.  160  of  Euphues  and 
his  England  (1580)  cannot  safely  be  taken  as  evidence  that  the  play 
was  not  written  before  1580,  since  the  passage  in  the  novel  might  be 
developed  from  that  in  the  play.  A  line  in  the  Prologue  describing 
the  play  as  the  author's  dream, 

The  first  he  had  in  Phoebus  holy  bowre, 

has  sometimes  been  interpreted  as  meaning  absolutely  the  first  play  ^ ; 
but  the  more  natural  meaning  is,  surely,  the  first  attempt  at  a  play  in 
verse,  and  there  is  much  to  support  the  idea  of  a  late  date.  To 
begin  with,  the  absence  in  this  single  case  of  the  name  of  the  PauFs 
boys  from  the  title-page  suggests  its  production  after  their  inhibition 
in  1 59 1,  an  inhibition  which  lasted  till  1599.  Then  the  mention  of 
Ceres'  nymphs,  iii.  i.  50,  who  play  no  part  in  the  classical  myth  of  the 
goddess,  points  to  a  date  of  composition  later  than  that  of  at  least 
the  earliest  form  of  Loves  Metamorphosis^  where  such  nymphs  figure 
prominently — a  play  produced,  probably,  before  the  suppression 
of  the  Paul's  boys;  *and  perhaps  later  than  Sept  1592,  the  date 
of  the  entertainment  at  Bisham,  another  work  of  Lyly,  wherein 
Ceres  and  her  nymphs  also  appear*.  In  iii.  i.  53,  63  are  two  un- 
common words, '  demeane '  and  '  depart,'  used  as  substantives,  which 
Lyly  almost  certainly  borrowed  from  the  Faerie  Queene  (1590),  ii. 
9.  40,  *  modest  of  demayne,'  and  iii.  7.  20,  *  lament  for  her  depart' 
The  only  earlier  instances  quoted  by  Murray  of  *  demeane '  as  a  noun 
are  of  1450  and  1534,  the  only  earlier  one  of  'depart '  is  c.  1330 in 
the  romance  Arthur  and  Merlin^nonQ  of  which  seem  likely  to  have 
crossed  Lyly's  eye.  Further,  my  later  study  of  the  play  induces  me  to 
class  it  as  dramatically  one  of  the  best  and  most  skilfully  constructed 
of  all  Lyly's  efforts.  Euphuism,  too,  is  entirely  absent;  the  wretched 
puns  are  gone,  and  are  replaced^  a  for  more  natural  humour.  ~It  is 
in  this  last  respect  particularly,  and  only  I  think  in  this  play,  that  we 
inay  trace  in  our  author  the  reciprocal  influence  of  Shakespeare.  Fair- 
holt  has  noticed  as  common  to  this  work  and  ih'^  Midsummer  Nighfs 
Dream_l\ie  apology  for  the  play  as  merely  the  author's  dream,  and  the 
introduction  of  the  man  in  the  moon  with  his  bush.    These  were 

•  -  • 

^  To  suppose  it  his  first  literary  work  of  any  kind  is  absolutely  prohibited  by 
the  words  at  the  beginning  of  the  dedication  of  Euph.  and  his  Eng. — '  In  the  like 
manner  fareth  it  with  me  (Right  Hooonrable)  who  muer  be/on  handling  the 
pcnsilU  did  for  my  fyrst  connterfaite,  coulour  mine  owne  Enphnes/  &c 

'  See  vol.  i.  p.  476  1.  a.  Compare,  too,  *  Maremaydes  glasse,'  iii.  a.  i6a,  with 
the  stage-direction  for  the  Siren  in  Lnes  Met,  iT..3|  p.  32a. 


INTRODUCTION  233 

points  which  I  believe  Shakespeare  to  have  borrowed  from  Lyly; 
and  he  may  further  have  found  in  Pandora^s  passion  for  Guno- 
philus  under  malign  influence  (pp.  262,  280),  especially  Luna's,  the 
suggestion  of  Titania's  grotesque  amour  with  Bottom  in  his  ass- 
head  ;  in  the  lines  spoken  by  the  amatory  shepherds, 

*When  will  the  sun  go  downe?  flye  Phoebus  flye! 
Oh  that  thy  steeds  were  wing'd  with  my  swift  thoughts : .  • . 
Come  night,  come  gentle  night,  for  thee  I  stay '  (iv.  i'.  348-54), 

an  anticipation  of  Juliet's  speech  in  the  orchard  (iiL  2), 

'  Gallop  apace,  you  fiery-footed  steedes ; 

To  Phoebus  mansion 

And  send  in  cloudie  night  immediately'  (ist  Quarto  1597); 

and  in  some  lines  in  iii.  2.  166-9  a  hint  for  'Under  the  greenwood 
tree '  in  As  You  Like  It  But  it  has  not  been  noticed  that  in  The 
Woman  we  get,  in  far  more  pronounced  degree  than  in  Maries  in 
Campaspe^  the  exact  presentment  of  the  early  Shakespearean  Clown 
of  the  type  of  Costard  and  Launce.  Hitherto  Lyly  has  distributed 
his  comic  matter  among  a  group  of  pages  with  their  butt  or  butts : 
here  he  concentrates  it  in  the  person  of  Gunophijus,  with  just  that 
admixture  of  shrewd  rustic  comment  on  the  action  and  rueful  reflec- 
tion on  his  own  mishaps  which  is  so  familiar  to  us  in  Shakespeare 
(see  pp.  247,  251-2,  265-6,  267,  278,  282-3).  Lov^s Labouf^s Lost^ 
The  Two  Gentlemen^  and  The  Comedy  of  Errors  were  all  produced 
probably  1590-1592,  and  Lyly  may  well  have  witnessed  all  three. 

Connected  with  this  last  argument  is  the  character  of  the  blank 
verse,  which  is  certainly  not  that  of  an  early  date  like  1 580-1 586, 
but  evinces  the  skill  more  appropriate  to  a  time  when  it  was  winning, 
or  had  won,  general  acceptance  as  the  right  dramatic  vehicle.  It  is 
true  that  smooth  ^d  moderately  good  end-stopped  blank  verse  had 
been  written  much  earlier,  e.  g.  GorboduCy  1561,  Jocasta^  1566, 
Tancred  and  Gismunda^  1568,  The  Arraignment  of  Paris  (pub.  1584) 
and  The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur^  1587  :  but  not  one  of  these,  with 
the  possible  and  partial  exception  of  Peek's  Arraignment^  exhibits 
the  ease  and  strength  so  noticeable  throughout  The  Woman  in  the 
Moone\  still  less  does  any  of  them  approach  the  delicate  poetic 
fancy  displayed  in  many  of  Lyl/s  lines.  Moreover,  a  close  examina- 
tion of  these  lines  shows  him  not  unaffected  by  the  improvements — 
the  variety  of  cadence,  the  departures  from  the  normal  decasyllabic 
line — which  are  generally  accredited  to  Marlowe's  Tamburlaine^  iS^7- 
I  have  counted  over  thirty  lines  in  the  play  where  such  irregularities 


234  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE 

appear,  and  they  are  seldom  such  as  can  be  attributed  to  mistakes  in 

printing,  e.  g. : 

iiL  2.  4.  Wanton  discourses,  mosicke  and  merrie  songes 

iii.  2.  65.  An^  of  them  all  Stasias  deserues  the  least 

iii.  2. 128.  Then  shepheard  this  kisse  shalbe  our  nuptials 

iii.  2.  238.  Bring  Iphicles  and  Melos  with  thee,  and  tell  them 

iv.  I.  10.  Theeuish,  lying,  subtle,  eloquent 

.  V.  1. 107.  Milke  white  Squirrels,  singing  Popiniayes 

iv.  I.  24.  She  singing  on  her  Lute,  and  Melos  being  the  note 

V.  I.  324.  Fantasticall,  childish,  and  folish,  in  their  desires 

Moreover,  as  I  have  shown  under  *  Sources '  below,  the  play  is 
probably  indebted  to  the  example  of  Greene's  Pianetomachia^  pub- 
lished in  black-letter  quarto  by  Thos.  Cadman,  1585;  and  to  the 
dramatic  example  of  The  Rare  Triumphs  of  Love  and  Fortune^  pub. 
1589.  Finally  the  Latin  lines,  iii.  i.  11 1-5,  are  a  later  adaptation  of 
an  effect  already  employed  by  him  in  the  Elvetham  Entertainment^ 
1591  :  vol.  i.  p.  445.  On  all  these  grounds  I  incline,  then,  to  reverse 
my  earlier  judgement  (^Quarterly  Review^  Jan.  1896)  that  The  Woman 
is  Lyl/s  earliest  play,  1578-81,  and  to  pronounce  it  his  latest  concep- 
tion (followed  only  by  the  revised  form  oi  Loves  Metamorphosis\  com- 
posed 1591-3,  probably  nearer  the  end  than  the  beginning  of  that 
period,  but  earlier  than  A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dreamy  which  dates 
about  1594. 

Sources.  —  The  story  of  the  creation  of  Pandora  is  original 
in  Hesiod's*lB/jya  mx  'UfUfxu^  IL  69-82  : 

^$  lifniff'  oi  3*  hrWovTO  Au  Kpovuan  ayoKTU 
Avruca  S*  ^«c  ytutf^  wXaxTfrt  xXvro9  'Afi^yvi^t? 
vapBtvif  aJSoiti  ZkcXov,  KpoviSco)  8ta  fiovXds' 
{oxrc  Sc  Jocu  KQQ'firja'€  Ota  yXavKw/in^  *AOijtrq* 
iLfufn  Bi  Oi  XapLTti  re  $mX  koI  rrorvta  H€«$m 
op/wvi  xp'^xrtiovi  I0t<ray  XP^  dfufn  &k  njyy€ 
^O/xu  KmXXuco/jiSi  €rr€<fHiiv  3y$wiy  tlaptvoiaC 
[irai^ra  8c  ot  xpo^  Kotrfiov  iifirjpfUHrt  UaXXJas  'AA/n;.] 
*Ev  8*  Sipa  Oi  on^coxTi  8iaicro/x>$  * Afrfti^^ovriffi 
^cvSca  ff  mfivXxov^  re  Xoyovs  jcou  iwucXoTtov  ^09 
rcv^c  A«o9  fiovX'ffn  fiafVKTvmv'   Iv  8*  &pa  i^vrgv 
6rfK€  d€wv  K^pvi'   wofiifyt  &k  rqyB€  ywaljuca 
Uav&Q^fniVf  ore  toitcs  *0\vfiina  itafior   ^;(OKrcs 
ScupoK  iSwpftfirayf  wrjfi   h^ipaaw  dXtf^tfvrjjiny* 

See  also  the  Thetgony  570-612, 


INTRODUCTION  235 

:    The  following  is  the  version  of  Hyginus,  Fab.  142,  Pandora  : 

*  Prometheus  lapeti  filius,  primus  homines  ex  luto  finxit,  postea 
Vulcanus  louis  iussu  ex  luto  mulieris  effigiem  fecit,  cui  Minerva 
animam  dedit,  caeterique  Dii  alius  aliud  donum  dederunt,  ob  id 
Pandoram  nominarunt,  ea  data  in  coniugium  Epimetheo  fratri,  inde 
nata  est  Pyrrha,  quae  mortalis  didtur  prima  esse  creata.' 

Lyly  may  have  read  the  latter,  and  had  probably  read  the  former 
passages ;  but  I  have  found  a  still  closer  resemblance  in  some  words 
in  the  third  of  Geoffrey  Fenton's  Cerieine  Travail  Discourses  written 
oute  of  Frenche^  &c.,  London  .  •  .  1567,  B.  L.  4°,  being  thirteen 
tales  translated  from  Belleforest's  Histoires  Tragiques,  which  came 
originally  from  Bandello's  Italian.  The  third  of  Fenton's  Discourses 
is  about '  A  younge  Ladye  of  Myllan,'  who  is  named  Pandora,  and 
'  longe  abused  the  vertue  of  her  youth  and  honor  of  manage  with  an 
vnlawfull  haunte  of  diuerse  yonge  Gentlemen '  (from  the  *  Table '). 
On  fol.  62  it  is  said  of  her,  'This  Pandora  •  •  •  gaue  manyfest  . 
signes  during  the  tyme  of  her  Infansye  of  her  future  disposition, 
arguinge  the  poysined  Clymatte  whiche  first  gettynge  domynion 
ouer  the  yonge  yeares  of  her  grene  vnderstading  dyrected  after  y« 
whole  seaquel  of  her  life  by  the  dyal  of  a  cursed  constelladon  .  .  • 
for  she  was  disdaynfull  without  respect,  spytefuli  without  measure, 
honge  altogether  full  of  t)ie  fethers  of  folyshe  pryde,  so  wholly  giuen 
to  wallowe  in  dilycacie  that  she  detested  al  exercises  of  vertue '  &c. : 
while  on  fol.  66  occurs  ue  following  in  a  letter  written  to  Pandora 
by  her  lover  Parthenope — *The  curious  Artificer  and  coninge  worke 
woman  Dame  Nature  •  .  •  was  not  so  careful  to  worke  you  in  her 
semelie  frame  of  all  perfections,  as  the  powers  deuine  and  disposers 
of  the  daungerous  and  loftye  planets,  assistinge  her  endeuour  with 
certaine  peculier  ornaments  of  their  spedall  grace  weare  redye  to 
open  their  golden  vessell  of  precious  treasur.' 

The  idea  of  conflict  between  the  Planets  in  regaid  to  their  influence 
on  human  affairs  appears  in  actual  dialogue-form  in  Greene's  Planeto- 
machia  (1585),  of  which  the  following  is  the  title : — 

<  Planetomachia :  Or  the  first  parte  of  the  generall  opposition  of 
the  seuen  Planets :  wherein  is  Astronomically  described  their  essence, 
nature,  and  influence :  Diuersly  discouering  in  their  pleasaunt  and 
Tragicall  histories,  the  inward  affections  of  the  mindes,  and  painting 
them  out  in  such  perfect  Colours,  as  youth  may  perceiue  what  fond 
fancies  their  florishing  yeares  doe  foster :  and  age  clerely  see  what 
doting  desires  their  withered  heares  doe  afforde.    Conteyning  alsq 


«36  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE'MOONE 

a  briefe  Apologie  of  the  sacred  and  misticall  Science  of  Astronomic  : 
By  Robert  Greene,  Master  of  Arts  and  student  in  Phisicke.  1585. 
Imprinted  at  London  for  Thomas  Cadman,  dwelling  at  the  great 
North  doore  of  S.  Paules,  at  the  signe  of  the  Byble.  1585.'  (6  fols. 
then  A,  B,  B — 1 3  in  fours,  bl.  lett  40.)  The  book  represents 
a  quarrel  between  Venus  and  Saturn  as  to  whose  astrological  in- 
fluence is  the  more  pernicious,  in  which  Mars  and  Mercury  take 
Venus'  part,  while  Jupiter  and  Luna  side  with  Saturn,  and  Sol,  whose 
$phere  lies  midmost  of  the  Seven,  is  appointed  *  moderator '  between 
them.  Venus  then  gives  a  general  statement  of  the  melancholy 
influence  exercised  by  Saturn  on  those  bom  under  his  star,  and 
illustrates  it  by  *  a  pleasant  though  Tragical  History'  (occupying 
14  fols.)  of  the  loves  of  Rodento  and  Pasylla,  daughter  of  Valdracko 
Duke  of  Ferrara,  and  their  unfortunate  issue  owing  to  the  Duke's 
^mity  with  Rodento's  father,  Count  Celio.  Then  the  dialogue 
between  the  Planets  is  resumed  (sig.  F  3),  and  Luna  gives  an 
|Astronomicall  description  of  Venus,' which  is  followed  by  'Satumes 
Tragedie,'  closing  the  book  with  the  story  of  Rhodope,  the  Egyptian 
courtesan,  and  the  evils  attending  those  who  surrender  themselves 
to  Venus'  influence.  The  book  is  redolent  of  Euphuts^  but  shows 
no  knowledge  of  Lyl/s  play,  which,  as  the  more  elaborate,  is  the 
more  likely  to  be  daived,  though  close  parallels  are  lacking.  He 
may  have  found  a  closer  model  in  the  play  called  The  Rare  Triumphs 
of  Love  and  Fortune^  pub.  1589, 4^ ;  the  flrst  Act  of  which  is  occupied 
by  a  council  of  the  gods  to  set  the  action  in  motion ;  in  the  second, 
third,  and  fourth  Fortune  and  Venus  alternately  dominate  the  lives 
of  two  lovers,  Hermione  and  Fidelia ;  while  in  the  fifth,  by  Jupiter's 
command,  they  combine  to  secure  their  happiness.  For  M&iferes' 
suggestion  of  Pandora  or  Luna  as  a  satirical  allegory  of  the  Queen, 
a  suggestion  I  hesitate  to  accept,  see  the  Essay,  voL  iL  p.  356  notei 
and  Life  and  Appendix,  vol.  L  pp.  63-4,  383,  389-90. 

Stage-History.: — The  quarto's  use  of  a  smaller  roman  type  for 
five  particular  ^age^rections  (Act  L  II.31,  57,  224;  Act  iL  11.  201, 203) 
paay  point  to  additions  on  the  MS.  in  another  hand,  made,  at  a  late^ 
performance  than  that  before  the  Queen,  by  some  stage-manager  to 
whom  Lyly  had  sold  the  play ;  or,  since  it  is  not  said  to  have  beeii 
acted  by  the  Paul's  or  Chapel  Children,  to  additions  made  by  the 
stage-manager  (other  than  Lyly)  of  the  first  performance.  The 
greater  frequency  of  stage-directions  in  this,  as  compared  with  the 


INTRODUCTION  237 

other  plays,  favours  the  idea  that  Lyly  had  no  hand  in  the  actual 
production,  and,  in  this  case,  wrote  instructions  he  could  not  give 
orally. 

Imitations.  —  Besides  the  suggestions  afforded  by  this  play  to 
Shakespeare,  as  enumerated  under  'Date*  above  (and  cf.  Essay, 
vol.  ii.  pp.  297-8),  it  undoubtedly  contributed  something  to  a  poem 
of  uncertain  date,  but  originally  dedicated  to  Prince  Henry  (ob.  161 2) 
by  William  Basse,  entitled  Vrania  the  Woman  in  the  Moone ;  wherein 
two  gods,  sent  by  Jupiter  to  report  on  the  state  of  the  world,  fall  in 
love  with  an  Ethiopian  woman,  who  having  extracted  from  them  the 
secret  by  which  they  are  able  to  reascend,  flies  to  Olympus,  and  on 
her  arrival  is  banished  by  the  Immortals  to  the  Moone.  Cynthia's 
indignation  at  the  companion  thus  forced  upon  her  is  made  to  ex- 
plain the  common  lunar  phenomena,  and  especially  the  subjection 
to  her  influence  of  all  women,  whom  she  afflicts 

With  fancyes,  frenzies,  lunacyes,  with  strange 

FeareSy  fashions,  factions,  furyes,  &  affections, 

With  fondnes,  fayntnes,  fugacy,  and  change 

Of  mindes,  moodes,  habits,  houses,  freindes,  complections : 

In  breife  she  raignes  o're  Women  as  a  Queene. 

In  her  their  state,  in  them  her  power,  is  seene. 

See  my  edition  of  William  Basse's  Poetical  Works^  p.  308  (Ellis  and 
Elvey,  1893),  and  compare  the  closing  lines  of  Lyly's  play. 

Place  and  Time.  —  In  this  his  latest  play  but  one  we  have  the 
same  indeterminate  treatment,  the  same  hovering  between  rule  and 
licence,  as  in  earlier  works.  In  his  onedrama  of  coiitemporary.life, 
however,  Mother  BombiL,  he  ohserved  the.  Unities  more  strict^ ;  and 

J   I,         I   — — 

in  this  play,  his  next  composition,  it  is  natural  to  find  a. greater  efiprt 
at  conformity*  Yet,  while  taking  the  Unities  for  his  working-plan, 
he  allows  inconsistency  to  creep  in.  As  regards  Place,  the  presence 
of  the  balcony,  occupied  continuously  by  one  or  other  of  the 
Planets,  really  fixes  the  scene  at  one  spot;  but,  while  in  iv.  i.  165 
Pandora  appoints  to  meet  Iphicles  *  on  Enipeus  sedgy  bankes,*  later 
on  in  the  same  scene^  1.  292,  Stesias  entering  as  her  substitute  says, 
*This  is  Enipeus  banke.'  Just  before  that  point  Pandora  and 
Gunophilus  have  crossed  the  stage  on  their  way  *  vnto  the  sea  side,' 
1.  270 ;  while  at  the  beginning  of  Act  v.  1.  10,  evidently  representing 


238  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE 

a  later  moment  of  the  same  expedition,  Gunophilus  says,  *  We  are 
almost  at  the  sea  side.*  Evidently  there  is  an  imaginary  transfer  of 
scene,  the  difficulty  presented  by  the  continuous  use  of  the  balcony 
being  obviated  by  the  reflection  that  it  stands  in  this  play  for  the 
heavens  or  actual  planetary  spheres,  which  would  be  equally  present 
at  different  spots  in  the  same  neighbourhood.  Several  similar 
imaginary  transfers  occur  in  Campaspe^  one  in  Endimioriy  pp.  60-1, 
and  one  in  Loves  Metamorphosis^  Act  ii.  As  regards  Time,  he  is  stricter 
than  in  any  other  play.  Though  the  notes  of  it  are  not  very  precise, 
he  intends  the  action  to  occupy  no  more  than  the  single  day  allowed 
for  Comedy.  Acts  iv  and  v  are,  as  I  have  shown,  continuous,  and 
early  in  Act  iv  (1.  103,  *  ere  the  sunne  go  doun ')  Pandora  alludes 
to  the  approach  of  evening.  The  inference  is  that  the  earlier  part 
of  the  day  has  been  occupied  by  the  preceding  Acts ;  for  the  plan  of 
the  piece  seems  to  require  that  if  Mercury  and  Luna,  who  dominate 
the  Fourth  and  Fifth  Act  respectively,  hold  sway  only  for  a  few 
hours,  the  ascendency  of  the  preceding  Planets  shall  not  be  of  very 
much  longer  or  shorter  duration.  The  banquet  that  occupies  the 
second  scene  of  Act  iii  thus  falls  appropriately  about  the  middle  of 
the  single  day  occupied  by  the  whole  piece ;  and  we  may  note  that 
the  division  of  this  Third  Act  into  two  scenes  involves  no  real 
interval,  since  Gunophilus  executes  in  the  second  scene,  1.  68, 
a  commission  (to  fetch  a  herb)  imposed  on  him  in  the  first,  11.  65-71. 
Similarly  the  sway  of  Luna,  or  moon-rise,  comes  near  the  end  of  the 
piece.  We  are,  then,  to  disr^ard  the  inconsistencies  which  Lyly, 
whether  carelessly  or  deliberately,  left  in  the  text,  of  which  the  chief 
are  the  words  of  Pandora,  ii.  i.  8-9  : 

By  day  I  thinke  of  nothing  but  of  rule. 
By  night  my  dreames  are  all  of  Empery — 

words  used  immediately  after  Jupiter  has  assumed  ascendency,  and 
the  recital  by  the  shepherds,  iv.  i.  21  sqq.,  of  past  favours  she  has 
shown  to  them ;  which  would  properly  require  the  lapse  of  a  con- 
siderable interval 


TH  E  WOMAN 

inthcMoonc. 

As  it  was  prefentcd  before 
her  HighneJJi. 

ByloHN  LviLiE  aptilcr 

fijArtti, 


Imprinted  at  London  forWillktn 

looest  andare  to  be  fold  at  the/^«  oftbc 
Cm^  nemHolittrmCtndim* 


I  J>7. 


(DRAMATIS  PERSONiE 

Nature. 

-^  '  [  her  handmaids. 

Discord,  J 

Saturn, 

Jupiter, 

Mars, 

Sol,  \  the  Seven  Planets. 

Venus, 

Mercury, 

Luna,        /  lo 

Juno. 

Ganymede,  Mending  on  Jupiter  (mute), 

Cupid,     \  attending  on  Venus, 

JOCULUS,  j 

Pandora,  the  Woman,  15 

Stesias,     \ 

,  ,  'I  Utopian  Shepherds, 

Melos, 

Iphicles,    J 

GuNOPHiLUS,  Servant  to  Pandora,  20 

Scene —  Utopia, ) 

TiVLKhi,  VzvLS,']  list  supplied  F,  11  JvKO  om,  F,  a i  Scene — Utopia 

su/p/,  F, 


Prologus  ^^  ^^  ,^  p 

/^Fr  /'(t;^/  slumbring  in  the  Muses  laps^ 

^^     Hath  sum  a  Woman  seated  in  the  Moone^ 

A  point  b^ond  the  auncient  Theorique: 

And  as  it  was  so  he  presents  his  dreame^ 

Here  in  the  bounds  of  fayre  Vtqpia,  5 

Where  loueiy  Nature  being  onely  Queene^ 

Bestowes  such  workmanship  on  earthly  mould 

That  Heauens  themselues  enuy  her  glorious  worke. 

But  all  in  vaine :  for  {malice  being  spent) 

They  yeeld  themselues  to  follow  Natures  doom  ;  lo 

And  fayre  Pandora  sits  in  Cynthias  orbe, 

ThiSy  but  the  shadow  of  our  Authors  dreame^ 

Argues  the  substance  to  be  neere  at  hand: 

At  whose  appearance  I  most*  humbly  craue^ 

That  in  your  forehead  she  may  read  content,  15 

If  many  faults  escape  in  her  discourse^ 

Remember  all  is  but  a  Poets  dreame^ 

The  first  he  had  in  Phoebus  holy  bowre^ 

But  not  the  last^  vnlesse  the  first  displease. 


•OWD  III 


THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE 

<ACT    I) 

Enter  Nature,  with  her  two  maidens  Concord  and  Discord. 

Nature. 

V  '^^Aiurt  descends  from  farre  aboue  the  spheeres, 

l\l      To  frolicke  heere  in  fayre  Vtopia, 

Where  my  chiefe  workes  do  fiorish  in  their  prime, 
"^  And  wanton  in  their  first  simplicitie. 

Heere  I  suniey  the  pictured  firmament,  5 

With  hurtlesse  flames  in  concaue  of  the  Moone; 
,  The  liquid  substance  of  the  welkins  waste, 

Where  moystures  treasurie  is  clouded  vp; 
.   The  mutuall  loynter  of  all  swelling  seas, 
;   And  all  the  creatures  which  their  wanes  conteine;  lo 

I   Lastly  the  rundle  of  this  Massiue  earth. 

From  vtmost  face  vnto  the  Centers  point: 

All  these,  and  all  their  endlesse  circumstance, 

Heere  I  suruey,  and  glory  in  my  selfe. 

But  what  meanes  Discord  so  to  knit  the  browes,  15 

With  sorrowes  clowde  ecclipsing  our  delights? 
Discord.   It  grieues  my  hart,  that  still  in  euery  worke, 

My  fellow  Concorde  frustrates  my  desire, 

When  I  to  perfect  vp  some  wondrous  deed. 

Do  bring  forth  good  and  bad,  or  light  and  darke,  33 

Pleasant  and  sad,  moouing  and  fixed  things, 

Fraile  and  immortal],  or  like  contraries: 

She  with  her  hand  vnites  them  all  in  one, 

And  so  makes  voide  the  end  of  mine  attempt 

s.  D.  Act  \\  om,Q,     Tks  diviswn  of  the  play  into  Acts,  and  of  the  Third  Act 

into  scenes,  is  reproduced  from  Q  F,  s.  D.  Enter  Nature,  &c. :  this  and  all 

tmdracheted  stagt'directions,  more  full  and  numerous  for  this  play,  are,  as  usual, 

from  the  Q  6  Moone;]  the  stops  at  end  of  II,  6,  8,  10,  la  an  represented  by 

commas  in  Q  ;  F»  substituting  full  stop  only  at  conteine 


sci]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE   MOONE  243 

Nat.   I  tell  thee  Discord  while  you  twaine  attend  35 

On  Natures  traine,  your  worke  must  prooue  but  one; 
And  in  your  selues  though  you  be  different,  « 

Yet  in  my  seruice  must  you  well  agree. 
For  Nature  workes  her  will  from  contraries, — 
But  see  where  our  Vtopian  Shepheards  come,  30 

Enter  Stesias,  Learchus,  M£los»  iPHiCLESy  all  clad  in  Skin^. 

They  kneele  downe. 
Stesias,  Thou  Soueraigne  Queene  and  Author  of  the  world. 

Of  all  that  was,  or  is,  or  shall  be  framde, 

To  finish  vp  the  heape  of  thy  great  gifts, 

Vouchsafe  thy  simple  seruants  one  request 
Nat.   Stand  vp,  and  tell  the  sum  of  your  desire,  35 

The  boone  were  great  that  Nature  would  not  graunt: 

It  euer  was  and  shall  be  still  my  ioy. 

With  wholesome  gifts  to  blesse  my  workemanship. 
Jphicks,   We  craue,  fa3nre  goddesse,  at  thy  heauenly  hands, 

To  haue  as  euery  other  creature  hath,  40 

A  sure  and  certaine  meanes  among  our  selues, 

To  propagate  the  issue  of  our  kinde : 

As  it  were  comfort  to  our  sole  estate. 

So  were  it  ease  vnto  thy  working  hand. 

Each  Fish  that  swimmeth  in  the  floating  sea,  45 

Each  winged  fowle  that  soareth  in  the  ayre, 

And  euery  beast  that  feedeth  on  the  ground, 

Haue  mates  of  pleasure  to  vpholde  their  broode : 

But  thy  Vtopians,  poore  and  simple  men,  v 

As  yet  bewaile  their  want  of  female  sex.  50 

Nat,   A  female  shall  you  haue,  my  louely  swaines, 

Like  to  your  selues,  but  of  a  purer  moulde : 

Meane  while  go  hence,  and  tend  your  tender  flocks, 

And  while  I  send  her,  see  you  holde  her  deare. 
Exeunt  Shepheards,  singing  a  roundelay  in  praise  of  Nature. 

Now  Virgins  put  your  hands  to  holy  worke,  55 

That  we  may  frame  new  wonders  to  the  world. 

They  draw  the  Curtins  from  before  Natures  shop,  where 
stands  an  Image  dad  and  some  vnclad,  they  bring  forth  the 
doathed  image. 

s.  D.  They  kneele  downe]  the  chann  of  type  here  and  in  four  places  below ^  IL  57, 
324 ;  Act  ii.  aoi,  203,  is  reproduced  from  Q,    See  under  Stage-History  ^  /.  336 

R  2 


4 


244  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  [act  i 

When  I  arayde  this  lifelesse  Image  thus, 

It  was  decreed  in  my  deepe  prouidence, 

To  mak^  it  such  as  our  Vtopians  craue, 

A  merror  of  the  earth,  and  heauens  dispight :  60 

The  matter  first  when  it  was  voyde  of  forme, 

Was  purest  water,  earth,  and  ayre,  and  fyre, 

And  when  I  shapt  it  in  a  matchlesse  mould, 

(Whereof  the  lyke  was  neuer  seene  before) 

It  grew  to  this  impression  that  you  see,  65 

And  wanteth  nothing  now  but  life  and  sowle. 

But  life  and  soule  I  shall  inspire  from  heauen. 

So  hold  it  fast,  till  with  my  quickning  breath, 

I  kindle  inward  seeds  of  sence  and  minde. 

Now  fire  be  turnd  to  choler,  ayre  to  bloud,  70 

Water  to  humor  purer  then  it  selfe. 

And  earth  to  flesh  more  cleare  then  Christall  rock. 

And  Discord  stand  aloofe,  that  Concords  hands 

May  ioyne  the  spirit  with  the  flesh  in  league. 

Concord  fast  imbrcueth  the  Image, 
Concord.   Now  do  I  feele  how  life  and  inward  sence,  75 

Imparteth  motion  vnto  euery  limme. 
Nat,   Then  let  her  stand  or  moue  or  walke  alone. 

The  Image  walkes  about  f carefully. 

Herein  hath  Nature  gone  beyond  her  selfe, 

And  heauen  will  grudge  at  beautie  of  the  earth. 

When  it  espies  a  second  sonne  belowe.  80 

*^  Dis,   Now  euerie  part  performes  her  functions  dew. 

Except  the  tongue  whose  strings  are  yet  vntyed. 
^  Nat,   Discorde,  vnlose  her  tongue,  to  serue  her  turne. 

For  in  distresse  that  must  be  her  defence: 

And  from  that  roote  will  many  mischiefes  growe,  85 

If  once  she  spot  her  state  of  innocence.  Image  speakes. 

Pandora  kneeling,   Halle  heauenly  Queene,  the  author  of  all  good, 

Whose  wil  hath  wrought  in  me  the  fruits  of  life^ 

And  fild  me  with  an  vnderstanding  soule, 
^     To  know  the  diflerence  twixt  good  and  bad.  90 

Nature  lifting  her  vp.    I  make  thee  for  a  solace  vnto  men, 

And  see  thou  follow  our  commaunding  will. 
V        Now  art  thou  Natures  glory  and  delight, 

Compact  of  euery  heauenly  excellence : 


sci]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE'  245 

Thou  art  indowd  with  Satums  deepe  conceit,  95 

Thy  minde  as  hawte  as  lupiters  high  thoughts, 
Thy  stomack  Lion-like,  like  Manors  hart, 
Thine  eyes  bright  beamde,  like  Sol  in  Tiis  array, 
/      Thy  cheekes  more  fayre,  then  are  faire  Venus  chcekes, 

Thy  tongue  more  eloquent  then  Mercuries^  100 

Thy  forehead  whiter  then  the  siluer  Moones: 

Thus  haue  I  robd  the  Planets  for  thy  sake. 

Besides  all  this,  thou  hast  proud  lunoes  armes, 

Auroraes  hands,  and  louely  Thetis  foote: 

Vse  all  these  well,  and  Nature  is  thy  friend,  105 

But  vse  them  ill,  and  Nature  is  thy  foe. 

Now  that  thy  name  may  suite  thy  qualities, 

I  giue  to  thee  Pandora  for  thy  name. 

(^During  the  following  dialogue  Pandora  sits  apart,) 

Enter  the  seuen  Planets. 

Saturn,   What  creature  haue  we  heere?   a  new  found  gawde?    '^ 

A  second  man,  lesse  perfect  then  the  first?  no 

Mars.   A  woman  this  forsooth,  but  made  in  hast, 

To  robbe  vs  Planets  of  our  ornaments.  ^ 

Jupiter.    Is  this  the  Saint,  that  steales  my  lunoes  armes?    - 
Sol.    Mine  eyes  ?   then  gouerne  thou  my  daylight  carre. 
Venus.   My  cheekes?   then  Cupid  be  at  thy  commaund.  115 

Mercury.   My  tongue?   thou  pretty  Parrat  speake  a  while. 
Luna.   My  forehead?   then  faire  Cynthia  shine  by  night. 
Nat.   What  foule  contempt  is  this  you  Planets  vse, 

Against  the  glory  of  my  words  and  worke  ? 

It  was  my  will,  and  that  shall  stand  for  lawe,  iso 

And  she  is  framd  to  darken  all  your  prides. 

Ordeynd  not  I  your  motions,  and  your  selues? 

And  dare  you  check  the  author  of  your  Hues  ? 

Were  not  your  lights  contriude  in  Natures  shop? 

But  I  haue  meanes  to  end  what  I  begun,  125 

And  make  Death  triumphe  in  your  Hues  decay: 

If  thus  you  crosse  the  meede  of  my  deserts, 

Be  sure  I  will  dissolue  your  harmonie. 

When  once  you  touche  the  fixed  period: 

Meane  while  I  leaue  my  worthy  workmanship,  130 

Here  to  obscure  the  pride  of  your  disdaine.  ._  Exit. 

97  Mauors]  Mars*8  /*.,  misreporting  Q  as  reading  Manor's 


146  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [acti 

Saf.  Then  in  reuenge  of  Nature  and  her  worke, 

Let  vs  conclude  to  shew  our  Emperie: 
^    And  bend  our  forces  gainst  this  earthly  starre. 

Each  one  in  course  shall  signorize  awhile,  135 

That  she  may  feele  the  influence  of  our  beames, 

And  rue  that  she  was  formde  in  our  dispight: 

My  turne  is  first,  and  Saturne  will  begin.  He  ascends. 

Jup.   And  He  begin  where  Saturne  makes  an  end, 

And  when  I  end,  then  Mars  shall  tyrrannize,  140 

And  after  Mars  then  Sol  shall  marshall  her. 
And  after  Sol  each  other  in  his  course : 
Come  let  vs  go,  that  Saturne  may  begin. 

{Exeunt  all  the  Planets  except  Saturne.) 

Sat.   I  shall  instill  such  melancholy  moode. 
As  by  corrupting  of  her  purest  bloud,  145 

Shall  first  with  sullen  sorrowes  clowde  her  braine, 
And  then  surround  her  heart  with  froward  care: 
She  shalbe  sick  with  passions  of  the  hart, 
Selfwild,  and  toungtide,  but  full  fraught  with  teares. 

Enter  Gunophilus. 

{Gun.y   Gratious  Pandora:  Nature  thy  good  friend  150 

Hath  sent  Gunophilus  to  waite  on  thee: 

For  honors  due  that  appertaines  her  will^ 

And  for  the  graces  of  thy  louely  selfe, 

Gunophilus  will  seme  in  humble  sorte^ 

And  is  resolud  to  liue  and  die  with  thee.  155 

Pan.    If  Nature  wild,  then  do  attend  on  me. 

But  little  seruice  haue  I  to  commaund, 

If  I  my  selfe  might  choose  my  kinde  of  life, 

Nor  thou,  nor  any  else  should  stay  with  me, 

I  finde  my  selfe  vnfit  for  company.  160 

Gun.   How  so  faire  Mistres  in  your  flouring  youth, 

When  pleasures  ioy  should  sit  in  euery  thought? 
Pan.  Auaunt  sir  sawce !  play  you  the  Questionest  ? 

Whats  that  to  thee,  if  I  be  sick  or  sad? 

Eyther  demeane  thy  selfe  in  better  sort,  165 

Or  get  thee  hence,  and  seme  some  other  where. 

136  our]  her  Q  F. 


sc.i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  247 

Gun.  (^aside}.   A  sowre  beginning:   but  no  remedy,, 
Nature  hath  bound  me»  and  I  must  obey: 
I  see  that  seruants  must  haue  Marchants  eares, 
To  beare  the  blast  and  brunt  of  euery  winde.  170 

Pan.  What  throbs  are  these  that  labour  in  my  brest? 
What  swelling  clouds,  that  ouercast  my  braine? 
I  burst,  vnlesse  by  teares  they  tume  to  raine. 
I  grudge  and  grieue^  but  know  not  well  whereat: 
And  rather  choose  to  weepe  then  speake  my  minde,  275 

For  fretfull  sorrow  captiuates  my  tongue. 

SAe  playes  the  vixen  with  euery  thing  about  her  (^and  finally  resumes 

her  seat}. 

Enter  Stesias,  Melos,  Learchus,  and  Iphicles. 

Ste.   See  where  she  sits,  in  whom  we  must  delight. 

Beware!   she  sleepes:   no  noyse  for  waking  her! 
Iphi.  A  sleepe?    why  see  how  her  alluring  eyes, 

With  open  lookes  do  glaunce  on  euery  side.  180 

Melos.   O  eyes  more  fayre  then  is  the  morning  starre! 
Lear.    Nature  her  selfe  is  not  so  louely  &yre! 
Ste.       Let  vs  with  reuerence  kisse  her  Lillie  hands, 

Th^  all  kneele  to  her. 

And  by  deserts  in  seruice  win  her  loue. 

Sweete  Dame,  if  Stesias  may  content  thine  eye,  185 

Commaund  my  Neate,  my  flock,  and  tender  Kids, 

Whereof  great  store  do  ouerspred  our  plaines. 

Graunt  me  sweet  Mistresse  but  to  kisse  thy  hand* 

She  hits  him  on  the  lips. 
Lear.   No  Stesias  no,  Learchus  is  the  man: 

Thou  myrror  of  Dame  Natures  cunning  worke,  190 

Let  me  but  hold  thee  by  that  sacred  hand. 

And  I  shall  make  thee  our  Vtopian  Queene^ 

And  set  a  guilded  Chapplet  on  thy  head, 

That  Nymphes  and  Satyrs  may  admyre  thy  pompe. 

She  strikes  his  hand.    He  riseth. 
Gun.  These  twaine  and  I  haue  fortunes  all  alyke.  195 

Melos.   Sweet  Natures  pride,  let  me  but  see  thy  hand, 

And  servant  lyke,  shall  Melos  waite  on  thee. 

And  beare  thy  traine:  as  in  the  glorious  heauens, 

Perseus  supports  his  loue  Andromeda: 


248  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [acti 

Whose  thirty  starres,  whether  they  rise  or  fall,  aoo 

He  falles  or  ryseth,  hanging  at  her  heeles. 

She  thrusts  her  hands  in  her  pocket, 
Jphi.   O  then  to  blesse  the  loue  of  Iphkles^ 

Whose  heart  dooth  hold  thee  deerer  then  himselfe, 

Do  but  behold  me  with  a  louing  looke, 

And  I  will  leade  thee  in  our  sollemne  daunce,  205 

Teaching  thee  tunes,  and  pleasant  layes  of  loue. 

She  winkcs  and  frownes. 
Ste,   No  kisse?    nor  touche?   nor  friendly  looke? 

What  churlish  influence  depriues  her  minde? 

For  Nature  sayd,  that  she  was  innocent, 

And  fuUy  fraught  with  vertuous  qualities:  210 

But  speake  sweete  loue:  thou  canst  not  speake  but  well. 
Gun.   She  is  not  tongue  tyde,  that  I  know  by  proofe. 
Melos,   Speake  once  Pandora  to  thy  louing  friends. 
Pan.   Rude  knaues,  what  meane  you  thus  to  trouble  me? 

Gun.   She   spake    to  you    my   maisters,   I   am    none   of  your 
company.  a  16 

Lear.   Alas !   she  weeping  sounds :  Gunophilus 

O  helpe  to  reare  thy  Mistresse  from  the  ground. 
Gun.   This  is  the  very  passion  of  the  4ieart, 

And  melancholy  is  the  ground  thereof.  220 

.  Ste.   O  then  to  sift  that  humor  from  her  heart, 

^jt^t^^  Let  vs  with  Rundelayes  delight  her  eare: 

^  For  I  haue  heard  that  Musick  is  a  meane, 

To  calme  the  rage  of  melancholy  moode.  They  sing. 

She  starteth  vp  and  runs  away  at  the  end  of  the  Song  saying. 

Pan.   What  songs?   what  pipes?   &  fidling  haue  we  here?        225 

Will  you  not  suffer  me  to  take  my  rest?  Exit. 

Meios.   What  shal  we  do  to  vanquish  her  disease? 

The  death  of  that  were  life  to  our  desires : 

But  let  vs  go,  we  must  not  leaue  her  thus.  Exeunt. 

Saturne  descendeth  on  the  stage. 
Sat.   Saturne  hath  layd  foundation  to  the  rest,  230 

Whereon  to  build  the  mine  of  this  dame, 

And  spot  her  innocence  with  vicious  thoughts; 

My  tume  is  past,  and  Jupiter  is  next.  Exit. 

Actus  primi  finis. 


ACT  II,  sc.  i]        THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  249 

ACT.    2. 

SCENA.    1. 

Enter  Iupiter. 

(^Tup.)   A  loue  principium^  sunt  &•  louts  omnia  plena. 
Now  Iupiter  shall  rule  Pandoraes  thoughts, 
And  fill  her  with  Ambition  and  Disdaine :       ^ 
I  will  inforce  my  influence  to  the  worst,  4 

Least  other  Planets  blame  my  regiment.  (^He  ascends,) 

Enter  Pandora  and  Gunophilus. 

Pan,    Though  rancor  now  be  rooted  from  my  hart, 

I  feele  it  burdened  in  an  other  sort: 

By  day  I  thinke  of  nothing  but  of  rule,       ^ 

By  night  my  dreames  are  all  of  Empery. 

Mine  eares  delight  to  heare  of  Soueraingtie,  10 

My  tongue  desires  to  speake  of  princely  sway, 

My  eye  would  euery  obiect  were  a  crowne. 
Jup,  {aside),   Danae  was  fayre,  and  Lceda  pleasd  me  well, 

Louely  Calisto  set  my  hart  on  fyre: 

And  in  mine  eye  Europa  was  a  gemme,  15 

But  in  the  beauty  of  this  Paragon, 

Dame  Nature  far  hath  gone  beyond  her  selfe. 

And  in  this  one  are  all  my  loues  conteind. 

And  come  what  can  come,  Iupiter  shall  prooue. 

If  fa3rre  Pandora  will  accept  his  loue :  20 

But  first  I  must  discusse  this  heauenly  clowde 

That  hydes  me  from  the  sight  of*mortall  eyes. 

Behold  Pandora  where  thy  loyer  sits,  (^Discovers  himself,) 

High  loue  himselfe,  who  rauisht  with  thy  blaze, 

Receiues  more  influence  then  he  powers  on  thee,  25 

And  humbly  sues  for  succour  at  thy  hands. 
Pan.   Why  what  art  thou?   more  then   Vtopian  swaines? 
Jup,   The  king  of  Gods,  one  of  immortall  race. 

And  he  that  with  a  beck  controules  the  heauens. 
Pan,    Why  then  Pandora  dooth  exceed  the  heauens,  30 

Who  neither  feares  nor  loueth  Iupiter. 

s.  D.  [He  ascends]  required  by  U,  60,  173  S.  D.  14  Calisco  F,  misled  by 

a  batiered  letter  in  Q 


250  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [act  a 

Jup,   Thy  beauty  will  excuse  what  ere  thou  say, 

And  in  thy  lookes  thy  words  are  priuiledgd. 

But  if  Pandora  did  conceiue  those  gifts, 

That  loue  can  giue,  she  would  esteeme  his  loue;  55 

For  I  can  make  thee  Empresse  of  the  world, 

And  seate  thee  in  the  glorious  firmament. 
/    Pan,   The  words  of  Empresse  and  of  firmament, 

More  please  mine  eares  then  Jupiter  mine  eyes : 

Yet  if  thy  loue  be  lyke  to  thy  protest,  40 

Giue  me  thy  golden  scepter  in  my  hand. 

But  not  as  purchase  of  my  precious  loue, 

For  that  is  more  then  heauen  it  selfe  is  worthe. 
Jup.   There,  hold  the  scepter  of  Eternall  loue^ 

{Hands  it  from  the  balcony,) 

But  let  not  Maiestie  encrease  thy  pride.  45 

Pan,   What  lack  I  now  but  an  imperiall  throne, 

And  Ariadnas  star-lyght  Diadem. 

Enter  lUNo. 

Juno,    False,  periurd  lupiter  and  full  of  guile, 

Are  these  the  fruites  of  thy  new  gouemment? 

Is  lunoes  beauty  and  thy  wedlock  vowe,  5<3 

And  all  my  kindnesse  troden  vnder  foote? 

Wast  not  enough  to  fancie  such  a  trull. 

But  thou  must  yeeld  thy  scepter  to  her  hand? 

I  thought  that  Ganimede  had  wened  thy  hart. 

From  lawlesse  lust  of  any  womans  loue :  55 

But  well  I  see  that  euery  time  thou  strayest. 

Thy  lust  but  lookes  for  st^mpet  stars  belowe. 
Pan,   Why  know.  Pandora  scomes  both  loue  and  thee, 

And  there  she  layes  his  scepter  on  the  ground. 
Juno  {picking  it  up).    This  shall  with  me  to  our  Celestiall  court, 

Where  gods  (fond  lupiter)  shall  see  thy  shame^  6r 

And  laugh  at  Loue  for  tainting  Maiestie: 

And  when  you  please,  you  will  repaire  to  vs: 

But  as  for  thee,  thou  shamelesse  counterfet. 

Thy  pride  shall  quickly  loose  her  painted  plumes,  65 

And  feele  the  heauy  weight  oi  Junoes  wrath.  Exit  Iuno. 

49  govemments  I   F,  mistaking  battered  interrogation  paint  of  Q  53 

soeptet  Q 


sc.i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  251 

Pan.   Let  lutw  fret,  and  mooue  the  powers  of  heauen, 

Yet  in  her  selfe  Pandora  stands  secure: 

Am  I  not  Natures  darling  and  hir  pride?  y 

Hath  she  not  spent  her  treasure  all  on  me?  70 

Jup.   Yet  be  thou  wise  (I  counsell  thee  for  loue) 

And  feare  displeasure  at  a  goddesse  hand. 
Pan.    I  tell  thee  Jupiter^  Pandoras  worth 

Is  farre  exceeding  all  your  goddesses: 

And  since  in  her  thou  dost  obscure  my  prayse,  75 

Here  (to  be  short)  I  do  abiure  thy  loue. 
Jup.   I  may  not  blame  thee,  for  my  beames  are  cause 

Of  all  this  insolence  and  proud  disdaine : 

But  to  preuent  a  secbnd  raging  storme, 

If  iealious  luno  should  by  chaunce  retume,  80 

Here  ends  my  loue:  Pandora  now  farewell.  Exit  (jabave). 

Pan,   And  art  thou  clouded  vp?   fare  as  thou  list^ 

Pandoraes  hart  shall  neuer  stoope  to  loue: 

GunopJUluSy  base  vassaile  as  thou  art^ 

How  haps  when  luno  was  in  presence  here,  85 

Thou  didst  not  honor  me  with  kneele  and  crowche^ 

And  lay  thy  hands  vnder  my  precious  foote, 

He  powres  downe  a  number  of  curtesies. 

To  make  her  know  the  height  of  my  desart  ? 

Base  pesaunt^  humbly  watch  my  stately  lookes^ 

And  yeeld  applause  to  euery  word  I  speake:  90 

Or  from  my  seruice  He  discarde  thee  quite. 

GuNOPHiLUS  on  his  knees. 
Gun,   Fayre  and  dread  Soueraigne  !   Lady  of  the  world  1 

Euen  then  when  iealous  luno  was  in  place, 

As  I  beheld  the  glory  of  thy  face, 

My  feeble  eyes  admiring  maiestie,  95 

Did  sinke  into  my  hart  such  holly  feare, 

That  very  feare  amazing  euery  sence. 

Withheld  my  tongue  from  saying  what  I  would, 

And  freezd  my  ioynts  from  bowing  when  they  should. 
Pan,    I  now  Gunophilus  thou  pleasest  me,  100 

These  words  and  cursies  prooue  thee  dutifull. 

93  place,]  place :  Q 


252  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [actii 

Enter  Stesias,  Learchus,  Melos,  and  Iphicles. 

Ste,    Now  Stesias  speake. 

Lear.  Learchus^  plead  for  loue. 

Jphi.   Now  Cyprian  Queene,  guider  of  louing  thoughts, 

Helpe  Iphicles. 
Melos.  Melos  must  speed,  or  dye. 

Gun,  {intervening  between  the  Shepherds  and  Pandora).  Whether 
now  my  maisters  in  such  post  hast?  105 

Her  excellence  is  not  at  leisure  now. 
Ste,     O  sweet  Gunophilus  further  our  attempts. 
Iphi,   And  we  shall  make  thee  riche  with  our  rewards. 
Gun,    Stay  heere  vntill  I  know  her  further  pleasure: 

{Turning  to  Pan.) 

Stesias  &  his  felows  humbly  craue  accesse  to  your  excellSce.      no 
Fan,    I  now  thou  fittest  my  humor;  Let  them  come. 

Gun.    Come  on  maisters.  {77ie  Shepherds  approach,) 

Ste,   Tel  me  my  deare,  when  comes  that  happy  houre, 

Whereon  thy  loue  shall  guerden  my  desire. 
Lear.      How  long  shall  sorows  winter  pinche  my  hart?  .■  115 

And  luke  warme  hopes  be  child  with  freezing  feare,    I 

Before  my  suite  obteyne  thy  sweete  consent? 
Iphi,      How  long  shall  deaths  incroching  by  delayes, 
y  Abridge  the  course  of  my  decaying  life, 

Before  Pandora  loue  poore  Iphicles?  120 

Melos,    How  long  shall  cares  cut  off  my  flowring  prime, 

Before  the  haruest  of  my  loue  be  in? 
Ste,        O  speake!   sweete  loue. 

Iphi,  Some  gentle  words,  sweete  loue. 

Lear.     O  let  thy  tongue  first  salue  Learchus  wound. 

That  first  was  made  with  those  immortall  eyes.  125 

Melos.   The  only  promise  of  thy  future  loue. 

Will  drowne  the  secret  heapes  of  my  dispayre 

In  endlesse  Ocean  of  expected  ioyes. 
'Pan.     Although  my  brest  yet  neuer  harbored  loue, 

Yet  should  my  bountie  free  your  seruitude:  130 

If  loue  might  well  consort  our  Maiestie, 

And  not  debase  our  matchlesse  dignitie. 
Ste.       Sweet  hony  words,  but  sawst  with  bitter  gawle. 

113  me]  oa  QF.  proh,fir  one,  the  compositor  mistaking  me       114  thy]  my  F. 


sc.i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  253 

Iphi.      They  drawe  me  on,  and  yet  they  put  me  back. 

Lear.     They  hold  me  vp,  and  yet  they  let  me  fall.  135 

Melos,   They  giue  me  life,  and  yet  they  let  me  dye. 

Ste,    But  as  thou  wilt,  so  giue  me  sweet  or  sowre: 

For  in  thy  pleasure  must  be  my  content 
Iphi.   Whether  thou  drawe  me  on,  or  put  me  back, 

I  must  admyre  thy  beauties  wildernesse.  140 

Lear.   And  as  thou  wilt,  so  let  me  stand  or  fall : 

Loue  hath  decreed  thy  word  must  goueme  me« 
Melos.   And  as  thou  wilt,  so  let  me  liue  or  dye. 

In  life  or  death  I  must  obey  thy  wyll. 
Pan.    I  please  my  selfe  in  your  humility,  145 

Yet  will  I  make  some  triall  of  your  &ith, 

Before  I  stoope  to  fauour  your  complaints: 

For  wot  ye  well  Pandora  knowes  her  worth. 

He  that  will  purchase  things  of  greatest  prize. 

Must  conquer  by  his  deeds,  and  not  by  words:  150 

Go  then  all  foure,  and  slay  the  sauadge  Boare, 

Which  roauing  vp  and  downe  with  ceaselesse  rage, 

Destroyes  the  fruit  of  our  Vtopian  fields, 
/   And  he  that  first  presents  me  with  his  head, 

Shall  weare  my  gloue  in  fauour  of  the  deed.  155 

Melos.  We  go  Pandora. 
Lear.  Nay  we  runne! 

Ste.  We  flye! 

(^Exeunt  Shepherds.) 
Pan.    Thus  must  Pandora  exercise  these  swaines, 

Commaunding  them  to  daungerous  exploits: 

And  were  they  kings  my  beautie  should  commaund. 

Sirra  Gunaphilus  beare  vp  my  traine.  160 

Exit  Pandora  and  Gunoph. 

Enter  Mars. 

Mars.   Mars  comes  intreated  by  the  Queene  of  heauen, 
To  summon  loue  from  this  his  regiment: 
Such  iealious  humor  croweth  in  her  braine. 
That  she  is  mad  till  he  retume  from  hence. 
(^Louder.)  Now  Soueraigne  loue  king  of  immortal  kings,       165 

139  thou]  they  F.  159  were  they]  where  thy  F. 


?S4  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [actii 

Thy  louely  luno  long  hath  lookt  for  thee, 

And  till  thou  come  thinkes  euery  howre  a  yeere. 

(^Reenter  Jupiter  ahove^  with  Ganymede.) 

Jup.   And  lout  will  go  the  sooner  to  asswage 

Her  franticke,  idle,  and  suspitious  thoughts, 

For  well  I  know  Pandora  troubles  her,  170 

Nor  will  she  calme  the  tempest  of  her  minde. 

Til  with  a  whirlwinde  of  outragious  words^ 

She  beat  mine  eares,  and  weep  curst  hart  away. 

He  descends  {with  Ganymede). 

Yet  will  I  go,  for  words  are  but  a  blasts 

And  sun-shine  wil  insue  when  stormes  are  past.  175 

Exit  Tvith  Ganimede.     (Mars  ascends,) 
Mars  in  his  seate.    Now  bloudy  Mars  begins  to  play  his  part. 

He  worke  such  warre  within  Pandaraes  brest, 

(And  somewhat  more  for  lunoes  fa3rre  request) 

That  after  all  her  churlishnesse  and  pride 

She  shall  become  a  vixen  Martialist.  180 

Enter  the  foure  Shepheards  with  the  Boares  head, 
Ste.       Heere  let  vs  stay  till  fayre  Pandora  come, 

And  then  shal  Stesias  haue  his  due  rewarde. 
Iphi.     And  why  not  Iphicks  as  well  as  you  ? 
Melos.  The  prize  is  mine,  my  sword  cut  off  his  head. 
Lear.     But  first  my  speare  did  wound  him  to  the  death.  185 

Ste,       He  fell  not  downe  till  I  had  goard  his  side, 
Lear.     Content  you  all,  Learchus  did  the  deed, 

And  I  will  make  it  good  who  eare  sayes  nay. 
Melos,  Melos  will  dye  before  he  lose  his  right. 
Iphi,     Nay  then  tis  time  to  snatch,  the  head  is  mine.  190 

Ste.       Lay  downe,  or  I  shal  lay  thee  on  the  earth.      They  fight. 

Enter  Pandora  and  Gunophilus. 

Pan.   I,  so,  fayre  and  far  off,  for  feare  of  hurt. 
See  how  the  cowards  counterfet  a  fray : 
Strike  home  you  dastard  swaines,  strike  home,  I  say  I 
Fight  you  in  iest?   let  me  bestur  me  then,  195 

And  see  if  I  can  cudgel  yee  all  foure. 

She  snatcheth  the  speare  out  ^Stesias  hand  &*  layes  about  her, 

s.  D.  [Re-enter  Jup.  &&]  required  by  U,  81  s.  D.,  175  s.  d. 


^.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  255 

Gun,    What?  is  my  mistresse  mankinde  on  the  sudden? 
Lear.    Alas!   why  strikes  Pandora  her  best  friends? 
Pan.    My  friends  ?  base  pesants  !  My  friends  would  fight  like  men : 
Auaunt!   or  I  shall  lay  you  all  for  dead.  aoo 

Exeunt^  all  sauing  Stesias. 
Sie^   See  cruell  fa3rre,  how  thou  hast  wrongd  thy  friend, 

He  sheweth  his  shirt  all  bloudy. 
To  spill  his  bloud  that  kept  it  but  for  thee. 
Thers  my  desart:  And  here  is  my  rewarde, 

Pointing  first  to  the  head  on  the  ground :  and  then  to  his  wound. 

I  dare  not  say  of  an  ingratefull  minde, 

But  if  Pandora  had  been  well  aduisd,  205 

This  dare  I  say,  that  Stesias  had  been  sparde. 

Pan.    Begon  I  say,  before  I  strike  againe. 

Gun.   O  stay  sweet  mistresse  and  be  satisfied. 

Pan.   Base  vassall,  how  darst  thou  presume  to  speake?  209 

Wilt  thou  incounter  any  deed  of  mine?  She  beats  him. 

How  long  haue  you  beene  made  a  counseller? 

Exit  GuNOPH.,  running  away, 

Ste.    Here  strike  thy  fill,  make  lauish  of  my  life, 
That  in  my  death  my  loue  may  finde  reliefe: 
Launce  vp  my  side,  that  when  my  heart  leapes  out, 
Thou  maist  behold  how  it  is  scorcht  with  loue,  215 

And  euery  way  croswounded  with  desire: 
There  shalt  thou  read  my  passions  deepe  ingrauen, 
,And  in  the  midst  onely  Pandoraes  name. 

Pan.   What  telst  thou  me  of  loue  and  fancies  fire? 

Fyre  of  debate  is  kindled  in  my  hart,  220 

And  were  it  not  that  thou  art  all  vnarmd. 

Be  sure  I  should  make  tryall  of  thy  strength : 

But  now  the  death  of  some  fierce  sauadge  beast. 

In  bloud  shall  end  my  furies  tragedie,  224 

For  fight  I  must,  or  else  my  gall  will  burst.  Exit  Pand. 

Ste.    Ah  ruthlesse  hart!   harder  then  Adamant, 
Whose  eares  are  deafe  against  affections  plaints. 
And  eyes  are  blinde,  when  sorrow  sheds  her  teares: 
Neither  contented  that  I  liue  nor  dye. 

X99  My  friends  would  .  .  .  men  as  seftaraie  line  in  Q  F.  S.  D.  Exeunt,  all 

saning  Stesias— 1.  e,  the  other  thru  shepherds 


2s6  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE     [actii,sc.i 

But  fondling  as  I  am,  why  grieue  I  thus?  a 30 

Is  not  Pandora  mistris  of  my  life? 

Yes,  yes,  and  euery  act  of  hers  is  iust. 

Her  hardest  words  are  but  a  gentle  winde: 

Her  greatest  wound  is  but  a  pleasing  harme:  234 

Death  at  her  hands  is  but  a  second  life.  Exit  Stesi. 

Mars  descendeth. 

Mars.   Mars  hath  inforst  Pandora  gainst  her  kinde, 
To  manage  armes  and  quarrell  with  her  friends: 
And  thus  I  leaue^her,  all  incenst  with  yre: 
Let  Sol  coole  that  which  I  haue  set  on  fire.  Exit, 

Actus  2.  finis. 


ACT.  3. 

SCENA.    1. 

Enter  Sol  and  take  his  seate. 

Sol.    In  looking  downe  vpon  this  baser  worlde, 
I  long  haue  seene  and  rude  Pandoraes  harmes; 
But  as  my  selfe  by  nature  am  inclinde, 
'/   So  shall  she  now  become,  gentle  and  kinde, 

Abandoning  all  rancour,  pride,  and  rage,  5 

And  changing  from  a  Lion  to  a  Lambe; 

She  shalbe  louing,  liberall,  and  chaste, 

Discreete  and  patient,  mercifuU  and  milde. 

Inspired  with  poetry  and  prophesie, 

And  vertues  apperteyning  womanhoode.  10 

Enter  Pandora  with  Gunophilus 

Pan.    Tell  me  Gunophilus  how  doth  Stesias  now? 
How  fares  he  with  his  wound?   vnhappy  me, 
That  so  vnkindely  hurt  so  kind  a  friende ! 
But  Stesias^  if  thou  pardon  what  is  past, 

I  shall  rewarde  thy  sufTeraunce  with  loue,  15 

These  eyes  that  were  like  two  malignant  starres, 
Shall  yeeld  thee  comfort  with  their  sweet  aspect ; 

a  rued  F.  17  thee]  their  Q  F. 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  257 

And  these  my  lippes  that  did  blaspheme  thy  loue, 
Shall  speake  thee  fayre  and  blesse  thee  with  a  kisse; 
And  this  my  hand  that  hurt  thy  tender  side,  ao 

Shall  first  with  herbes  recure  the  wound  it  made, 
Then  plight  my  fa5rth  to  thee  in  recompence. 
And  thou  Gunophilus  I  pray  thee  pardon  me. 
That  I  misdid  thee  in  my  witles  rage, 

As  time  shall  yeelde  occasioni  be  thou  sure  35 

I  will  not  fayle  to  make  thee  some  amends* 
Gun,   I  so  content  me  in  this  pleasaunt  calme^ 


That  former  stormes  are  vtterly  foigot. 


// 


Enter  (Jhe)  faure  Shepherdes. 

Lear,     We  follow  still  in  hope  of  grace  to  come. 

Jphi,      O  sweete  Pandora!  deigne  our  humble  suites.  30 

Melos,    O  graunt  me  loue  or  wound  me  to  the  death  i 

Pan,      Stand  vp:  Pandora  is  no  longer' proudi 

But  shames  at  folly  of  her  former  deedes.  ^^ 

But  why  standes  Siestas  like  a  man  dismayde? 

Draw  neare,  I  say,  and  thou,  with  all  the  rest,  35 

Forgiue  the  rigour  of  Pandoraes  hand. 

And  quite  forget  the  faultes  of  my  disdayne* 

Now  is  the  time  if  you  consent  all  foure. 

Wherein  He  make  amends  for  olde  offence. 

One  of  you  foure  shalbe  my  wedlocke  mate,  *       40 

And  all  the  rest  my  welbeloued  friendea: 

But  vowe  you  here  in  presence  of  the  Gods, 

That  when  I  choose,  my  choyse  shall  please  you  all. 
Ste.       Then  make  I  vowe,  by  Pallas  shepherds  QueenCy 

That  Siestas  will  alowe  Pandoraes  choyse.  45 

But  if  he  speede  that  lesse  deserues  then  I, 

He  rather  dye,  then  grudge  or  make  complaynt. 
Melos,  I  sweare  the  like  by  all  our  country  gods. 
Iphi,      And  I  by  our  Dianes  holy  head. 

Lear,   -And  I  by  Ceres  and  her  sacred  Nymphes.  50 

Pan,     Then  loue  and  Hymen  blesse  me  in  my  choyse. 

You  all  are  young  and  all  are  louely  fayre, 

All  kinde,  and  curteous  and  of  sweete  demeane, 

35  rest  Q  44  Pallas*  F, 

BOND  in  S 


2S8  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  [act  iii 

All  right  and  valiaunt,  all  in  flowring  prime; 

But  since  you  graunt  my  will  his  libertie,  55 

Come  Stesias  take  Pandora  by  the  hand, 

And  with  my  hand  I  plight  my  spotles  fayth. 
Ste.      The  word  hath  almost  slayne  me  with  delight. 
Lear,   The  worde  with  sorowe  killeth  me  outright 
Meios,  O  happy  Stesias^  but  vnhappy  mel  60 

Ipht.   Come  let  vs  goe,  and  weepe  our  want  els  where: 

Stesias  hath  got  Pandora  from  vs  all. 

Exeunt  (Learchus,  Melds,  and  Iphicles). 
Pan,  Their  sad  depart  would  make  my  hart  to  eame. 

Were  not  the  ioyes  that  I  conceaue  in  thee: 

GOi  go,  GunopkUus  without  delay,  65 

Gather  me  balme  and  cooling  Violets, 

And  of  our  holly  hearbe  Nicotian, 

And  bring  with  all  pure  hunny  from  the  hyue, 

That  I  may  heere  compound  a  wholsome  salue. 

To  heale  the  wound  of  my  vnhappy  hand.  70 

Gun.    I  goe.  {Exit.^ 

Ste,   Blest  be  the  hand  that  made  so  happy  wound. 

For  in  my  sufferance  haue  I  wonne  thy  loue; 

And  blessed  thou,  that  hauing  tryed  my  faith^ 

Hast  giuen  admittance  to  my  harts  desert:  75 

Now  all  is  well,  and  all  my  hurt  is  whole. 

And  I  in  paradise  of  my  delight. 

Come,  louely  spouse,  let  vs  go  walke  the  woods, 

Where  warbling  birds  recorde  our  happines. 

And  whisling  leaues  make  musick  to  our  myrthe,  80 

And  Flora  strews  her  bowre  to  welcome  thee. 
Pan.    But  first  sweet  husband,  be  thou  ruld  by  me: 

Go  make  prouision  for  some  holy  rytes. 

That  zeale  may  prosper  our  new  ioyned  loue, 

And  by  and  by  my  selfe  will  follow  thee.  85 

Ste.      Stay  not  my  deere,  for  in  thy  lookes  I  Hue.  Exit. 

Pan.   I  feele  my  selfe  inspyrd,  but  wot  not  how, 

Nor  what  it  is,  vnlesse  some  holy  powre: 

My  heart  foretels  me  many  things  to  come, 

And  I  am  full  of  vnacquainted  skil^  90 

64  Were  not  the  Q/*.  (/*.  fnisriporting  Q  as  Where  notthe)  85  follw  Q 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  259 

Yet  such  as  wil  not  issue  from  my  tongue, 

But  like  Sibillaes  goulden  prophesies, 

AiTecting  rather  to  be  clad  in  verse 

(The  certaine  badge  of  great  Apolloes  gift) 

Then  to  be  spred  and  soyld  in  vulgar  words;  95 

And  now  to  ease  the  burden  of  my  bulke. 

Like  Sibill^  thus  Pandora  must  begin* 

Enter  Stesias, 

Ste,     Come  my  Pandora^  Siestas  stayes  for  thee. 

Pan,   Peace  man,  with  reuerence  here  &  note  my  words. 

For  from  Pandora  speakes  the  Lawreat  God,  100 

Vtopice  Stesias  Phcenici  soluit  amorem^ 
Numina  azlorum  dum  pia  prcecipiunt 
And  backward  thus  the  same,  but  double  sence. 
Ptacipiunt  pia  dum  celorum  Numina^  amarem 

Soluit  Phcenici  Stesias  Vtopia.  105 

He  soberly  repeating  these  verses^  first  forward  and  then  backward, 

sayeth. 
Ste.    If  soluere  amorem  signifie  to  loue, 
Then  meanes  this  prophesie  good  to  Stesias; 
But  if  it  signifie  to  withdrawe  loue, 
Then  is  it  ill  aboadement  to  vs  both : 

But  speake  Pandora  while  the  God  inspyres.  no 

Pan.    Idaliis  prior  hie  pueris  est:  eequoris  Alti 
Pulchrior  hec  nymphis,  &*  prior  Aoniis. 
And  backward  thus,  but  still  all  one  in  sense. 
Aoniis  prior,  &»  nytnphis  hec  pulchrior  cUti 
jEquoris  est:  pueris  hie  prior  Idaliis,  115 

He  soberly  repeating  these  cUso,  backward  and  forward^  sayeth 
Ste.   Forward  and  back,  these  also  are  alike. 

And  sence  all  one,  the  pointing  only  changd: 

They  but  import  Pandoraes  praise  and  mine. 
Pan.   Euen  now  beginneth  my  furie  to  retyre, 

And  now  with  Stesias  hence  wil  I  retyre.  Exeunt.    lao 

9a  Siballaes  Q  F.  loi  soluit  Q  F. ;  query  t  solnet  105  Utopia  F. 

117  the]  this/: 

S  2 


26o  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  [act  hi 

SCEN.   2. 

Enter  Venus  {with  Cupid  and  Joculus). 

,   {Venus,")  Fhcsbus  away,  thou  makst  her  too  precise, 
^       He  haue  her  wittie,  quick,  and  amorous, 

Delight  in  reuels  and  in  banqueting, 

Wanton  discourses,  musicke  and  merrie  songes. 

(Sol  descends,) 
Sol.   Bright  Cyprian  Queene,  intreate  Pandora  fayre.  5 

For  though  at  first  Phcebus  enuied  her  lookes. 

Yet  now  doth  he  admire  her  glorious  hew. 

And  sweares  that  neyther  Daphne  in  the  spring, 

Nor  glistering  Thetis  in  her  orient  robe. 

Nor  shamefast  morning  gert  in  siluer  cloudes,  lo 

Are  halfe  so  louely  as  this  earthly  sainte.  • 

Venus,   And  being  so  fayre  my  beames  shall  make  her  light, 
V        For  Leuety  is  Beauties  wayting  mayde. 
Sol,   Make  Chastity  Fandoraes  wayting  mayde^ 

For  modest  thoughtes  beseemes  a  woman  best.  15 

Venus.   Away  with  chastity  and  modest  thoughts. 

Quo  mihi  fortuna  si  non  conceditur  vti? 

Is  she  not  young?  then  let  her  to  the  worlde: 

All  those  are  strumpets  that  are  ouer  chaste. 

Defying  such  as  keepe  their  company.  20 

Tis  not  the  touching  of  a  womans  hand. 

Kissing  her  lips,  hanging  about  her  necke, 

A  speaking  looke,  no,  nor  a  yeelding  worde. 

That  men  expect ;  beleeue  me  Sol  tis  more. 

And  were  Mars  here  he  would  protest  as  much.  25 

Sol,    But  what  is  more  then  this  is  worse  then  nought: 

{Aside,)  I  dare  not  stay  least  she  infect  me  too.  Exit, 

Venus.   What,  is  he  gone?  then  light  foote  loculus^ 

Set  me  Pandora  in  a  dauncing  vayne. 
Joe,    Fayre  mother  I  will  make  Pandora  blyth,  30 

And  like  a  Satyre  hop  vpon  these  playnes.  Exit. 

Venus.    Go  Cupid  giue  her  all  the  golden  shafts, 

s.  D.  [with  Cupid  and  Joe.]  rtauired  by  II.  30  and  34       s.  d.  [Sol  descends] 
om.  Q  A  13  Leoety  P, :  Lenety  Q  (fumed  a)  17  tortnna  Q :  for- 

tnnse  P, :  see  note  3a  the  Q  /1 :  2^^.  f  thy 


v/ 


sc.  ii]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  261 

And  she  will  take  thee  for  a  forrester. 
Cupid,   I  will  and  you  shall  see  her  streight  in  loue.  Exit, 

Venus  asandeth, 
Venus.    Here  Venus  sit,  and  with  thy  influence  35 

Goueme  Pandora^  Natures  miracle. 

Enter  Pandora  {with  Cupid)  and  Ioculus. 

Pan,      Prethee  be  quiet,  wherefore  should  I  daunce? 
/oc.       Thus  daunce  the  Satyrs  on  the  euen  lawnes. 
Pan,     Thus,  prety  Satyr,  will  Pandora  daunce. 
Cupid,  And  thus  will  Cupid  make  her  melody.  40 

He  shootes. 

(  They  dance  and  sing  as  follows) 

Joe.   Were  I  a  man  I  could  loue  thee. 
Pan.   I  am  a  mayden,  wilt  thou  haue  me? 
Joe.  But  Stesias  saith  you  are  not. 

Pan.  What  then?    I  care  not. 

Cup.  Nor  I. 

Joe.  Nor  I.  45 

Pan.  Then  merely 

Farewell  my  maydenhead. 
These  be  all  the  teares  He  shed ; 
Tume  about  amd  tryppe  it. 

Venus.   Cupid  and  loculuSy  come  leaue  her  now.  50 

Exeunt  (Cup.  and  Joc.>. 
Pan.   The  boyes  are  gone  and  I  will  follow  them. 

I  will  not  follow  them,  they  are  to  young. 

What  bony  thoughts  are  in  Pandoraes  brayne? 

Hospitis  est  tepedo  necte  recepta  sui. 

Ah  I  enuie  her,  why  was  not  I  so?  55 

And  so  will  I  be:  where  is  Iphicles^ 

Melos^  Learchus?  any  of  the  three? 

I  cure  the  sicke?   I  study  Poetry? 

I  thinke  of  honour  and  of  chastitie? 

No:  loue  is  fitter  then  Pandoraes  thoughts;  60 

s.  D.  [They  dance  and  sing  &c]  not  in  Q  F.  which  print  song  as  prose  46 

merely  i.e,  merrily  54  necte  :  both  in  Br.  Mus,  copy  and  in  Dyce  copy  the  first 
eis  a  little  blurred  or  bcUtered,  In  Br,  Mus.  it  is  more  like  e  than  o,  while  in  the 
Dyce  copy  an  original  o  seems  to  have  been  inked  with  a  pen  into  an  e.  Both  copies 
read  tepedo  quite  clearly  60  then  Q  F.\  qy,f  for 


^ 


262  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  t^cr  m 

Yet  not  the  loue  of  Siestas  alone; 

Learchus  is  as  £siyre  as  Siestas, 

And  Meios  loulier  then  Learchus  farre, 

But  might  I  chose,  I  would  haue  Iphtcles, 

And  of  them  all  Siestas  deserues  the  least.  65 

Must  I  be  tyde  to  him?  no  He  be  loose, 

As  loose  as  Heien^  for  I  am  as  fayre. 

Enter  Gunophilus. 

{Gun.y  Mistresse,  here  be  the  hearbs  for  my  maisters  wound. 
Pan.    Prety  Gunophilus^  give  me  the  hearbs: 

Where  didst  thou  gather  them  my  louely  boye?  70 

Gun,   Vpon  Learchus  plaine. 
Pan,    I  feare  me  Cupid  daunst  vpon  the  plaine, 

I  see  his  arrow  head  vpon  the  leaues. 
Gun.   And  I  his  golden  quiuer  and  his  bowe. 
Pan.  Thou  doost  dissemble,  but  I  meane  good  sooth.  75 

These  hearbes  haue  wrought  some  wondrous  effect: 

Had  they  this  vertue  from  thy  Lilly  hands? 

Lets  see  thy  hands  my  fayre  Gunophilus. 
Gun.   It  may  be  they  had,  for  I  haue  not  washt  them  this  many 
a  day.  80 

Pan.    Such  slender  fingers  hath  loues  Ganymede: 

Gunophilus,  I  am  loue  sick  for  thee. 

Gun.   O  that  I  were  worthy  you  should  be  sick  for  me ! 
Pan.    I  languish  for  thee,  therefore  be  my  loue. 

Gun.  Better  you  languish,  then  I  be  beaten !    Pardon  me,  I  dare 
not  loue,  because  of  my  Maister.  86 

Pan.   He  hide  thee  in  a  wood,  and  keepe  thee  close. 

Gun.   But  what  if  he  come  a  hunting  that  way? 
Pan.    He  say  thou  art  a  Satyre  of  the  woods. 

Gun.   Then  I  must  haue  homes.  90 

Pan.    I,  so  thou  shalt,  He  giue  thee  Siesias  homes. 

Gun.   Why  he  hath  none. 

Pan.    But  he  may  haue  shortly. 

Gun.   Yee  say  true,  and  of  that  condition  I  am  yours. 

Enier  Learchus. 

Lear.   I  may  not  speake  of  loue,  for  I  haue  vowd  95 

Nere  to  soUicit  her,  but  rest  content; 


sc.  ii]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  263 

Therefore  onely  gaze,  eyes,  to  please  your  selues, 

Let  not  my  inward  sence  know  what  you  see, 

Least  that  my  fancie  doate  vpon  her  stilL 

Pandora  is  diuine,  but  say  not  so,  100 

Least  that  thy  heart  heare  thee  and  breake  in  twaine. 

I  may  not  court  her :   what  a  hell  is  this  I 
Pan,    Gunophilus:   He  haue  a  banquet  streight, 

Goe  thou,  prouide  it,  and  then  meete  me  here. 
Gun,   I  will;   but  by  your  leaue  He  stay  a  while.  105 

Lear,   Happy  are  those  that  be  Pandoraes  guestes. 
Pan,    Then  happy  is  Learchus^  he  is  my  guest. 
Lear,   And  greater  ioy  doe  1  conceaue  therein, 

Then  Tantalus  that  feasted  with  the  Gods. 

Gun.   Mistres,  the  banquet  ^  no 

Pan,   What  of  the  banquet? 

Gun,   You  haue  bid  no  body  to  it. 

Pan,   Whats  that  to  you?    Goe  and  prepare  it. 

Gun,   And  in  the  meane  time  you  will   be  in  loue  ¥rith  him. 
I  pray  let  me  stay,  and  bid  him  prepare  the  banquet.  115 

Pan,   Away,  ye  peasant! 

Gun,   Now  she  begins  to  loue  me.  (^Exit,) 

Pan,   Learchus  had  I  markt  this  golden  hayre, 

I  had  not  chosen  Stesias  for  my  loue, 

But  now {sighs),  lao 

Lear,   Louely  Pandora^  if  a  shepherds  teares 

May  moue  thee  vnto  rueth,  pity  my  state. 

Make  me  thy  loue,  though  Stesias  be  thy  choyse, 

And  I  in  steade  of  loue  will  honour  thee. 
Pan,  {aside).  Had  he  not  spoke  I  should  haue  courted  him:  125 

Wilt  thou  not  say  Pandora  is  to  light, 

If  she  take  thee  insteede  of  Stesias  1 
Lear,  Rather  ile  dye  then  haue  but  such  a  thought. 
Pan,    Then  shepheard  this  kisse  shalbe  our  nuptials. 
Lear,  This  kisse  hath  made  me  welthier  then  Pan,  130 

Pan,   Then  come  agayne:   Now  be  as  great  as  loue, 
Lear,  Let  Stesias  neuer  touch  these  lippes  agayne. 
Pan.    None  but  Learchus:   Now  sweet  loue  begone, 

Least  Stesias  take  thee  in  this  amarous  vayne; 

But  go  no  farther  then  thy  bower  my  loue,  135 

lie  steale  from  Stesias  and  meete  thee  streight. 


264  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [act  iii 

Zaot.   I  will  Pandora,  and  agaynst  thou  comst, 

Strew  all  my  bower  with  fiagges  and  water  mints.  Exit 

Pan,   A  husband?   what  a  folish  word  is  that! 

Giue  me  a  louer,  let  the  husband  goe.  140 

Enter  Melos  {and  Iphicles). 

Meios,  O  Iphicles  beholde  the  heauenly  Nymphe. 

Iphi.    We  may  beholde  her,  but  she  scomes  our  loue. 

Pan,    Are  these  the  shepherds  that  made  loue  to  me? 

Melos,  Yesi^  and  the  shepherds  that  yet  loue  thee  still. 

Iplii.    O  that  Pandora  would  regard  my  suite!  145 

Pan,    They  looke  like  water  Nymphes,  but  speake  like  men : 

Thou  should  be  Nature  in  a  mans  attire, 

And  thou  young  Ganimayde  Minion  to  loue, 
Melos,T^eci  would  I  make  a  worlde  and  giue  it  thee. 
Jphi,    Then  would  I  leaue  great  loue,  to  follow  thee.  150 

Pan,  (^aside).   Melos  is  loneliest,  Melos  is  my  loue; 

Come  hether  Melos  I  must  tell  thee  newes, 

Newes  tragicall  to  thee  and  to  thy  flock. 

She  whispers  in  his  eare, 

Melosy  I  loue  thee,  meete  me  in  the  vale. 

She  speakes  ahude. 

I  saw  him  in  the  Wolues  mouth,  Melos  flye.  155 

Melos.  O  that  so  fayre  a  Lambe  should  be  deuoured : 

lie  goe  and  rescue  him.  (^Exit  Melos.) 

Jphi,   Could  Iphicles  goe  from  thee  for  a  Lambe? 

The  wolfe  take  all  my  flocke,  so  I  haue  thee! 

Will  me  to  diue  for  pearle  into  the  sea,  160 

To  fetch  the  fethers  of  the  Arabian  bird, 

The  Golden  Apples  from  the  Hesperian  wood, 

Maremaydes  glasse.  Floras  abbiliment, 

So  I  may  haue  Pandora  for  my  loue. 
Pan,   He  that  would  do  all  this,  must  loue  me  well;  165 

And  why  should  he  loue  me  and  I  not  him? 

Wilt  thou  for  my  sake  goe  into  yon  groue^ 
/    And  we  will  sing  vnto  the  wilde  birdes  notes. 

And  be  as  pleasant  as  the  Western  winde, 

s.  D.  [and  Iphicles]  added F,        163  The  before  Maremaydes  F, :  but  the  ward 
is  meant  as  trisyUabie 


sc.  ii]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  265 

That  kisses  flowers  and  wantons  with  their  leaues.  170 

IpM,   Will  I  ?    O  that  Pandora  would  ! 
Pan,    I  will !  and  therefore  followe,  IphicUs.  Exeunt, 

Enter  Stesias  with  Gunophilus. 

Ste,   Did  base  Learchus  court  my  heauenly  loue? 

Pardon  me  Pan  if,  to  reuenge  this  deed, 

I  shed  the  blood  of  that  desembling  swaine.  175 

With  lealous  fire  my  heart  begins  to  bume. 

Ah  bring  me  where  he  is,  Gunophilus^ 

Least  he  intice  Pandora  from  my  bower. 
Gun,    I  know  not  where  he  is,  but  here  heele  be: 

I  must  prouide  the  banquet,  and  be  gone.  180 

Ste,     What!   will  the  shepherds  banquet  with  my  wife? 

O  light  Pandora  canst  thou  be  thus  false? 
•    Tell  me  where  is  this  wanton  banquet  kept? 

That  I  may  hurle  the  dishes  at  their  heades, 

Mingle  the  wine  with  blood,  and  end  the  feast  1S5 

With  Tragicke  outcries,  like  the  Theban  Lord 

Where  fayre  Hippodamia  was  espousd. 
Gun,   Here  in  this  place,  for  so  she  poynted  me. 
Ste,     Where  might  I  hide  me  to  behold  the  same? 
Gun.   O,  in  this  caue,  for  ouer  this  theyle  sitte.  190 

(^Pointing  to  a  trapdoor,) 
Ste,     But  then  I  shall  not  see  them  when  they  kisse. 

Gun.   Yet  you  may    here   what  they   say;    if   they  kisse    ile 
hollow. 
Ste,     But  do  so  then  my  sweete  Gunophilus ; 

And  as  a  stronge  winde  bursting  from  the  earth,  195 

So  will  I  rise  out  of  this  hollow  vault, 

Making  the  woods  shake  with  my  furious  wordes. 

Gun,  But  if  they  come  not  at  all,  or  when  they  come  do  vse 
themselues  honestly,  then  come  not  out,  least  you  seeming  lealious 
make  her  ouer  hate  you.  200 

Ste,     Not  for  the  worlde  vnles  I  heare  thee  call. 

Or  els  their  wanton  speech  prouoke  me  forth. 

Gun.  Well,  in  then  I  (Stesias  descends  through  the  trap.)  Wert 
not  a  prety  iest  to  bury  him  quicke  ?    I  warrant  it  would  be  a  good 

189  heboid  Q  195  bunting  F. :  bnising  Q 


266  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [actiii 

• 

while  eare  she  would  scratch  him  out  of  his  graue  with  her  nayles,  205 
and  yet  shee  might  too,  for  she  hath  digd  such  vaults  in  my  face  that 
ye  may  go  from  my  chinne  to  my  eyebrowes  betwixt  the  skin  and 
the  flesh !  wonder  not  at  it,  good  people !  I  can  proue  there  hath 
bene  two  or  three  marchantes  with  me  to  hire  romes  to  lay  in  wine : 
but  that  they  doe  not  stand  so  conueniently  as  they  wold  wish,  (for  a  10 
indeed  they  are  euery  one  too  neare  my  mouth,  and  I  am  a  great 
drinker)  I  had  had  a  quarters  rent  before  hand.    Wei,  be  it  knowne 

/  vnto  all  men  that  I  haue  done  this  to  cornute  my  mayster,  for  yet 
I  could  neuer  have  opportunities  You  would  litle  thinke,  my  necke 
is  growne  awry  with  loking  back  as  I  haue  been  a  kissing,  for  feareaif 

1/  he  should  come,  and  yet  it  is  a  fayre  example ;  beware  of  kissing, 
bretheren !     (^The  trap  rises  slightly,)    What !  doth  the  caue  open? 

V    ere  she  and  he  haue  done  heele  picke  the  lock  with  his  home. 

Enter  Pandora. 

Pan.   Now  haue  I  playde  with  wanton  Iphicles, 

Yea,  and  kept  touch  with  Melos^  both  are  pleased;  220 

Now,  were  Learchus  here! — but  stay,  me  thinkes 

Here  is  GunophiluSy  He  goe  with  him. 

Gun,  (^speaking  low),    Mistres,  my  mayster  is  in  this  caue  thinking 
to  meete  you  and  Learchus  here. 
Pan,  {same  tone).   What,  is  he  lealious?  come  Gunophilus  225 

In  spite  of  him  He  kisse  thee  twenty  times. 

Gun,   O  looke  how  my  lippes  quiuer  for  feare ! 
Pan.  (^louder,  for  Stesias'  ear).   Where   is   my  husband  ?    speake 

Gunophilus. 
Gun.   He  is  in  the  woods,  and  will  be  here  anon. 
Pan.  (flower).    I,  but  he  shall  not.  230 

(^Louder ^  as  before.)   His  fellow  swaines  will   meete   me  in  this 
bower. 

Who  for  his  sake  I  meane  to  entertayne, 

If  he  knew  of  it  he  would  meete  them  here. 

Ah !   where  so  ere  he  be,  safe  may  he  be ! 

Thus  hold  I  vp  my  hands  to  heauen  for  him,  235 

Thus  weepe  I  for  my  deere  loue  Stesias! 
Gun.  When  will  the  shepheards  come? 
Pan.    Imediately ;  prepare  the  banquet  streight : 

215  awry/'.:  away  Q 


sc.  ii]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  267 

Meane  time  He  pray  that  Siestas  may  be  here. 

(Lower  agatnJ)   Bring  Iphkles  and  Melos   with  thee,  and  tell 
them  240 

Of  my  husband  Descendit  ad  inferos^ 
Gun.   Youle  loue  them  then? 
Fan,   No,  onely  thee,  yet  let  them  sitte  with  me. 
Gun,    Content,  so  you  but  sit  with  them.  .  Eocit. 

Enter  Learchus. 

Lear.   Why  hath  Pandora  thus  deluded  me?  245 

Fan,   Learchus^  whist!  my  husbands  in  this  caue, 

Thinking  to  take  vs  together  here ! 
Lear,   Shall  I  slay  him,  and  enioy  thee  still? 
Fan,    No!   let  him  Hue,  but  had  he  Argos  eyes, 

He  should  not  keepe  me  from  Learchus  loue:  250 

Thus  will  I  hang  about  Learchus  necke. 

And  sucke  out  happinesse  from  forth  his  lippes. 
Lear,   And  this  shalbe  the  heauen  that  He  ayme  at. 

Enter  Gunophilus  {with  glasses,  &*c,  for  banquet). 

Gun,   Sic  vos  non  vobis,  sic  vos  non  vobis, 

Lear,   What  meanst  thou  by  that?  255 

Gun,   Here  is  a  coment  vpon  my  wordes. 

He  throwes  the  Giasse  downe  and  breakes  it. 

Fan.   Wherefore  doest  thou  breake  the  giasse? 

Gun,  He  answere  it :  shall  I  prouide  a  banquet  and  be  cosend 
of  the  best  dish  ?  I  hope,  syr,  you  haue  sayde  grace,  and  now 
may  I  fall  too.  260 

He  takes  his  mistres  by  the  hand  and  imbraceth  her, 

Lear.   Away,  base  swayne! 

Gun,   Sir,  as  base  as  I  am,  He  goe  for  currant  here. 

Lear,    What?   will  Pandora  be  thus  light? 

Gun,  O !  you  stand  vpon  the  weight !  wel  if  she  were  twenty 
graines  lighter  I  would  not  refuse  her,  prouided  alwayes  she  be 
not  dipt  within  the  ringe.  a66 

Fan,    Gunophilus,  thou  art  too  malepert! 

<-4w^ /^  Learchus.)   Thinke  nothing,  for  I  can  not  shift  him 
off. 

247  vs]  qy,  /*v8  both  metr.gra.  248  and]  qy,  ftmdsotMtr.gra,  thc« 

Q :  the  F,         250  not  Q:  no  F,  258  it :]  it,  Q  F. 


268  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [act  in 

(7b  Gun.)   Sirra,  prouide  the  banquet  you  are  best.  269 

Gun.   I    will!   and   that  incontinently!    for    indeed   I    cannot 
abstein.  Exit, 

Pan.   Here,  take  thou  Melos  fauours,  keep  it  close, 

For  he  and  Iphicks  will  streight  be  here; 

I  loue  them  not,  they  both  importune  me. 

Yet  must  I  make  as.  if  I  loue  them  both;  275 

Here  they  come. 

Welcome  Learchus  to  Pandoraes  feast. 

(^Re-enter  Gunophilus  with  viands^  &*c.} 

Enter  Melos  and  Iphicles  {meeting). 

Melos.  What  makes  Learchus  here  ? 

Iphi.    Wherefore  should  Melos  banquet  with  my  loue? 

Lear.   My  heart  ryseth  agaynst  this  Iphicles.  aSo 

Pan.    MeloSy  my  loue!    Sit  downe,  sweete  Iphicles. 

{Confers  with  Iphi.  apart.) 
Melos.  She  daunts  Learchus  with  a  strange  aspect. 
Lecu'.    I  like  not  that  she  whispers  vnto  him. 
Iphi.  {aside  to  Pand.).   I  warrant  you. 
Pan.    Her<e')s  to  the  health  of  Stesias  my  loue,  285 

Would  he  were  here  to  welcome  you  all  three. 
Melos.  I  will  go  seeke  him  in  the  busky  groues. 
Gun.   You  lose  your  labour  then,  he  is  at  his  flocke. 
Pan.    I,  he  wayes  more  his  flocke  then  me. 
{Lear.)  She  weepes. 

Iphi.   Weepe  not  Pandora^  for  he  loues  thee  well.  290 

Pan.    And  I  loue  him. 

Iphi.  But  why  is  Melcs  sad? 

Melos.  For  thee  I  am  sad,  thou  hast  iniured  me. 
Pan.    Knowes  not  Melos  I  loue  him? 
Iphi.   Thou  iniurest  me,  and  I  wilbe  reuenged ! 
Pan.    Hath  Iphicles  forgot  my  wordes?  295 

Gun.  {aside).   If  I  should  hollow  they  were  all  vndone. 
Lear,  {aside).  They  both  are  lealious,  yet  mistrust  me  not! 
Iphi.    Here,  Melos  I 
Melos.  I  pledge  thee,  Iphicles. 

285  Here's]  Hen  O:  Her*8  F.  289  Pan.  Q\  Gun.  F.         She  weepes.] 

itals,  tviikout  cap.  S  in  one  line  with  preceding^  Qi    as  stage- directum,  F. :   but 
rehired  in  text  to  complete  the  line.    I  prefix  Lear. 


sc.  ii]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  269 

Pan,  (jaside  to  Lear.).  Learchus  goe,  thou  knowst  my  minde.  300 
Lear,  {aside).   Shall  I  sit  here  thus  to  be  made  a  stale? 

Louely  Pandora  meanes  to  follow  me: 

Farewell  this  feast,  my  banquet  comes  not  yet*  Exit, 

Jphi,   Let  him  goe. 

Melos,   Pandora  go  with  me  to  Stesias,  305 

Jphi,   No,  rather  goe  with  me. 
Melos,    Away,  base  Iphicles! 

Iphi,   Coward!   hand  of!   or  els  He.  strike  thee  downe! 
Pan,    My  husband  heres  you ! — {Louder,)  Will  you  striue  for  wine  ? 

Giue  vs  a  fresh  cup,  I  will  haue  ye  friends.  310 

Melos,   I  defie  thee,  Iphicles! 
Iphi,   I  thee,  Melos! 
Gun,   Both  of  them  are  drunke ! 
Melos  {to  Pand.).    Is  this  thy  loue  to  me? 

Pan,    Nay,  if  you  fall  out,  farewell.     {Aside,)  Now  will  I  goe 
meet  Learchus,  Exit  Pand.     316 

Iphi,  I  see  thy  lugling,  thou  shalt  want  thy  will. 
Melos,  Follow  me  if  thou  darst,  and  fight  it  out. 
Iphi,    If  I  dare  ?    Yes  I  dare,  and  will !    Come  thou. 

{Exeunt  Mel.  and  Iph.) 
Gun,   Hollow !   hollow  !  330 

Stesias  riseth  out  of  the  cam, 
Ste,      Where  is  the  villayne  that  hath  kist  my  loue? 
Gun,   No  body,  mayster. 
Ste.      Why  striue  they  then? 

Gun,   Twas  for  a  cup  of  wine,  they  were  all  drunke. 
Ste,      Whither  is  my  wife  gone?  325 

Gun,   To  seeke  you. 

Ste,   Ah !  Pandora^  pardon  me !  thou  art  chaste.     Thou  madst 
me  to  suspect  her,  take  thou  that  {Beating  Gun.) 

Gun.   O  mayster !    I  did  for  good  will  to  you ! 

Ste,      And  I  beat  thee  for  good  will  to  her.    What  hast  thou 
to  doe  betwixt  man  and  wife? 

Gun,   Too  much  with  the  man,  too  litle  with  the  wife.         333 

Exeunt, 
Finis  Actus  tertij, 

330  s.  D.  Stesias F,\  He  Q 


2  70  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [act  iv 

ACT.    4. 

ScEN.  1  {with  transfer  at  L  294). 

Enter  Mercury. 

Mer,    Empresse  of  loue,  giue  Hermes  leaue  to  reigne, 

My  course  comes  next,  therefore  resigne  to  me. 

Descend  Venus. 
Venus.   Ascend,  thou  winged  purseuant  of  loue, 
Mer,      Now  shall  Pandora  be  no  more  in  loue; 

And  all  these  swaines  that  were  her  fauorits  5 

Shall  vnderstand  their  mistres  hath  playde  false, 

And  lothing  her  blab  all  to  Stesias. 

Now  is  Pandora  in  my  regiment, 
v/  And  I  will  make  her  false  and  full  of  slights, 

Theeuish,  lying,  suttle,  eloquent;  xo 

For  these  alone  belong  to  Mercury. 

Enter  Melds,  Learchus,  Iphicles. 

Jphi.     Vnkind  Pandora  to  delude  me  thus. 

Lear.    Too  kinde  Learchus  that  hath  loude  her  thus. 

Melcs,  Too  foolish  Melos  that  yet  dotes  on  her. 

Lear.     Blacke  be  the  luory  of  her  tysing  face.  15 

Melos.   Dimde  be  the  sun  shine  of  her  rauishing  eyes. 

Iphi^      Fayre  may  her  face  be,  beautifull  her  eyes! 

Lear.     O  IphicUs  abiure  her,  she  is  false! 

Jphi.      To  thee  Learchus  and  to  Melos  false. 

Melos.   Nay,  to  vs  all  too  false  and  full  of  guile.  20 

Lear.     How  many  thousand  kisses  gaue  she  me, 

And  euery  kisse  mixt  with  an  amorous  glaunce. 
Melos.    How  oft  haue  I  leand  on  her  siluer  breast. 

She  singing  on  her  Lute,  and  Melos  being  the  note. 
Jphi.     But  waking,  what  sweete  pastime  haue  I  had,  25 

For  loue  is  watchfuU,  and  can  neuer  sleepe. 
Melos.   But  ere  I  slept — 
Lear.  When  I  had  list — 

Jphi.  What  then  ? 

3  lone  Q :  lore  F.  5  her  Q :  were  F.  6  there  Q  F. 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  271 

Meios.  Cater  a  quis  nesciti 

Lear.    Melos  preuents  me  that  I  should  haue  sayd. 

Iphi,     Blush  IphicUs  and  in  thy  Rosie  cheekes  30 

Let  all  the  heat  that  feeds  thy  heart  appeare. 
Lear,    Droope  not  fayre  Iphicles  for  her  misdeeds: 

But  to  reuenge  it  hast  to  Stesias, 
Melos.  Yea  he  shall  know  she  is  lasciuious. 
Iphi,     In  this  compls^nt  He  ioyne  with  thee^  let  vs  go.  35 

Lear,    Stay,  heere  he  comes. 

Enter  Stesias  with  Gunophjlus. 

Ste,    O  Stesias  what  a  heauenly  loue  hast  thou ! 
A  loue  as  chaste  as  is  ApoUoes  tree: 
As  modest  as  a  vestall  Virgins  eye, 

And  yet  as  bright  as  Glow  wormes  in  the  night,  40 

With  which  the  morning  decks  her  louers  hayre. 

0  fayre  Pandora^  blessed  Stesias! 
Jphi.     O  foule  Pandora^  cursed  Stesias! 
Ste,       What  meanst  thou  Iphicles  J 

Melos.   Ah !  is  she  fayre  that  is  lasciuious  ?  45 

Or  that  swaine  blest  that  she  makes  but  a  stale? 
Lear,   He  meanes  thy  loue,  vnhappy  Stesias. 
Ste.      My  loue?   no,  Shepheards,  this  is  but  a  stale, 

To  make  me  hate  Pandora  whom  I  loue: 

So  whispered  late  the  false  Gunophilus ;  50 

Let  it  suffice  that  I  beleeue  you  not. 
Jphi.    Loue  is  deafe,  blinde,  and  incredulous; 

1  neuer  hung  about  Pandaraes  neck. 

She  neuer  termd  me  fayre  and  thee  black  swaine. 
Melos.   She  playd  not  vnto  Melos  in  her  bowre,  55 

Nor  is  his  greene  bowre  strewd  with  Primrose  leaues. 
I^ar.    I  kist  her  not,  nor  did  she  terme  me  loue; 

Pandora  is  the  loue  of  Stesias. 

(^Exeunt  Lear.  Iph.  and  Mel.) 

Ste.       Sirra!   bid  your  Mistres  come  hether.  59 

Gun.     I  shall  syr.  Exit, 

Ste.   'I  neuer  hung  about  Pandaraes  neck/ — 

'She  playde  not  vnto  Melos  in  her  bower,' — 

S.D.  [Exeunt  Lear.  &c.]  suggested  F,       61-3  *  I  neuer  &€.*]  quctaiUm-'marks 
suppl  F. 


272  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [act  iv 

'I  kist  her  not^  nor  did  she  terme  me  loue;' — 

These  wordes  argue  Pandora  to  be  light. 

She  playde  the  wanton  with  these  amarous  swaines,  65 

By  all  these  streames  that  interlaced  these  floodes, 

Which  may  be  venom  to  her  thirstie  soule^ 

He  be  reuenged  as  neuer  shepherd  was! 

Now  foule  Pandora^  wicked  Stesias. 

Enter  Gunophilus  and  Pandora. 

Gun.   Mistres  tis.true,  I  hard  them,  venter  not.  70 

Pan,    Fenced  with  her  tongue,  and  garded  with  her  wit, 

Thus  goeth  Pandora  vnto  Stesias. 
Ste.      Detested  falsor!  that  to  Stesias  eyes 

Art  more  infestious  then  the  Basiliske. 
Pan.    Gunophilus^  Pandora  is  vndone  1  75 

Her  loue,  her  ioy,  her  life  hath  lost  his  wits ! 

OiTer  a  Kyd  in  Esculapius  fane, 

That  he  may  cure  him,  least  I  dye  outright. 

Gun.  {aside).  He  offer  it  Esculapius^  but  he  shall  not  haue  him, 
for  when  he  comes  to  him  selfe  I  must  answer  it.  80 

Pan.   Go,  I  say! 
Ste.     Stay !  I  am  well,  tis  thou  that  makst  me  raue. 

Thou  playdst  the  wanton  with  my  fellow  swaynes. 
Pan.   Then  dye,  Pandora!  art  thou  in  thy  wits,  84 

And  calste  me  wanton  ?  Shefals  dawne. 

Gun.   O  Maister!  what  haue  you  done? 
Ste.      Diuine  Pandora!  rise  and  pardon  me! 
Pan.   I  cannot  but  forgiue  thee  Stesias^ 

But  by  this  light,  if 

Gun.  {aside).  Looke  how  she  winkes. 

Ste.     O  stay,  my  loue  !   I  know  twaa  their  deuise.  90 

Pan.   He  that  will  winne  me  must  haue  Stesias  shape, 

Such  golden  hayre,  such  Alabaster  lookes; 

Wilt  thou  know  wl^  I  loued  not  Jupiter? 

Because  he  was  vnlike  my  Stesias. 
Ste.     Was  euer  silly  shepherd  thus  abusd?  95 

All  three  afirmd  Pandora  held  them  deare. 

66  interlaced  so  Q  F.  71  Fenced  F, :  Fence  Q  74  insestions  Q  {com^ 

fotitor  pUJting  up  long  %for  f)  F.  77  Esciilapias  Q  F.         88  cmanot,  but  F. 

89  Looke  Q  :  Looke,  Fi  qy.  t  Looke  yoa 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN   THE  MOONE  273 

Pan,    It  was  to  bring  me  in  disgrace  with  thee, 

That  they  might  haue  some  hope  I  would  be  theirs. 

I  cannot  walke  but  they  importune  me. 

How  many  amarous  letters  haue  they  sent!  zoo 

What  giftes !   yet  all  in  vayne :   to  proue  which  true, 

He  beare  this  slaunder  with  a  patient  minde, 

Speeke  them  all  fayre,  and  ere  the  sunne  go  downe, 

rie  bring  thee  where  they  vse  to  lie  in  wait, 

To  robbe  me  of  my  honour  in  the  groues.  Z05 

Ste,    Do  so  sweete  wife,  and  they  shall  buy  it  deare. 

I  cannot  stay,  my  sheepe  must  to  the  fould.  Exit, 

Pan,    Go  Siestas  as  simple  as  a  sheepe; 

And  now  Pandora  summon  all  thy  wits, 

To  be  reuenged  vpon  these  long-toungd  swaynes.  no 

Gunophilus  beare  JphicUs  this  ring: 

Tell  him  I  raue  and  languish  for  his  loue: 

Will  him  to  meete  me  in  this  meade  alone, 

And  sweare  his  fellowes  haue  deluded  him. 

Beare  this  to  Melos  {handing  a  bloody  napkin) ;  say  that  for  his 
sake  X 15 

I  stabd  my  selfe,  and  hadst  not  thou  been  neare, 

I  had  bene  dead,  but  yet  I  am  aliue^ 

Calling  for  Me/os  whom  I  onely  loue. 

And  to  Learchus  beare  these  passionate  lines. 

Which,  if  he  be  not  flint,  will  make  him  come.  zao 

Gun,  I  will,  and  you  shall  see  how  cunningly  He  vse  them ; 
stay  here,  and  I  will  send  them  to  you  one  after  another,  and  then 
vse  them  as  your  wisdome  shall  thinke  good.  Exit, 

Pan,   That  letter  did  I  pen  doubting  the  worst. 

And  dipt  the  Napking  in  the  Lambkins  blood  125 

For  Iphicles  were  he  compact  of  Iron, 

My  ring  is  Adamant  to  drawe  him  foorth, 

Let  women  learne  by  me  to  be  reuengd. 

He  make  them  bite  their  tongues  and  eate  their  wordes, 

Yea  sweare  vnto  my  husband  all  is  false.  130 

My  wit  is  plyant  and  inuention  sharpe. 

To  make  these  nouises  that  iniure  me. 

{AsidCy  as  she  sees  Iph.  approaching,) 

104  wait]  weight  Q  F,  iia  laDgnish]  language  Q  F,  s.  D.  [handicg 

&c]  required  by  IL  125,171 

BONO  III  T 


274  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE   MOONE  [act  iv 

Young  Iphicles  must  boast  I  fauourd  him, 

Here  I  protest  as  Helen  to  her  loue: 

Oscula  luctanti  tantummodo  pauca  proteruus  135 

absiuiit :  vlterius^  nil  habet  tile  met. 

And  whats  a  kisse?   too  much  for  Iphicles! 

{Enter  Iphicles.) 
Jphi,  (^aside).    Melos  is  wily,  and  Learchus  false, 

Here  is  Fandoraes  ring,  and  she  is  mine! 

It  was  a  stratagem  layde  for  my  loue.  140 

O  foolish  Iphicles^  what  hast  thou  done? 

Must  thou  betray  her  vnto  Stesiasi 
Pan.    (^as  if  alone).    Here  will  I  sit  till  I  see  Iphicles^ 

Sighing  my  breath,  out  weeping  my  heart  bloud. 

Go,  soule,  and  fiye  vnto  my  leefest  loue,  145 

A  fayrer  subiect  then  Elysium. 
Jphi.  {aside).   Can  I  heare  this?  can  I  view  her?   O  no! 
Fan.    But  I  will  view  thee,  my  sweet  Iphicles! 

Thy  lookes  are  physicke,  suffer  me  to  gaze, 

That  for  thy  sake  am  thus  distempered.  150 

Iphi.    Pale  be  my  lookes  to  witnesse  my  amisse. 
Pan.   And  mine  to  shew  my  loue;  louers  are  pale. 
Iphi.   And  so  is  Iphicles. 
Pan.    And  so  Pandora;   let  me  kisse  my  loue, 

And  adde  a  better  couler  to  his  cheekes.  155 

Iphi.    O  bury  all  thy  anger  in  this  kisse. 

And  mate  me  not  with  vttering  my  offence. 
Pan.   Who  can  be  angrie  with  one  whom  she  loues? 

Rather  had  I  to  haue  no  thoughts  at  all. 

Then  but  one  ill  thought  of  my  Iphicles:  x6o 

Go  vnto  Stesias  and  deny  thy  words. 

For  he  hath  thrust  me  from  his  cabanet. 

And  as  I  haue  done,  I  will  loue  thee  still: 

Delay  no  time,  hast,  gentle  Iphicles: 

And  meete  me  on  Enipeus  sedgy  bankes.  165 

Iphi.   When  shall  I  meet  thee?  tell  me  my  bright  loue. 
Pan.   At  midnight,  Iphicles;  till  then  farewell! 
Iphi.   Farewell  Pandora!  He  to  Stesias.  Exit. 

135  proteruus]  protemas  Q  {turned  a) :  Jience  protenns  F.^  wAa  gratuitously 
transfers  abstnlit  to  end  of  thts  line  163  And  Q :   For  F.  165 

Exupens]  Enepeai  Q  F. 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  275 

Pan,   Thus  will  I  serue  them  all;  now,  Meios^  come, 

I  loue  thee  too,  as  much  as  Iphicles,  170 

Enter  Melds  (with  the  bloody  naphin). 

Melos,    This  is  Pandoraes  blood;  hast,  Meios^  hast  I 

And  in  her  presence  launce  thy  flesh  as  deepe: 

Wicked  Learchus^  subtill  Jphicies : 

You  haue  vndone  me  by  your  reaching  wit. 
Pan,    Gunophilus  I  where  is  Gunpphiiusf  175 

Giue  me  the  knife  thou  puUedst  from  my  brest: 

Meios  is  gone,  and  left  Pandora  here; 

Witnesse  yee  wounds,  witnesse  yee  siluer  streames. 

That  I  am  true,  to  Melos  onely  true, 

And  he  betrayde  me  vnto  Siestas.  iSo 

Melos.   Forgiue  me,  loue,  it  was  not  I  alone, 

It  was  Learchus,  and  false  Iphicles. 
Pan,   Tis  not  Learchus,  nor  that  Jphicies, 

That  greeues  me,  but  that  Melos  is  vnkinde; 

Melos  J  for  whom  Pandora  straynd  her  voyce,  185 

Playing  with  euery  letter  of  his  name : 

Melos,  for  whom  Pandora  made  this  wounde : 

Melos,  for  whom  Pandora  now  will  dye! 
Melos.    Diuine  Pandora,  stay  thy  desperat  hand ! 

May  summers  lightning  bume  our  Autumne  crop,  190 

The  thunders  teeth  plowe  vp  our  fayrest  groues, 

The  scorching  sun-beames  dry  vp  all  our  springs, 

And  ruffe  windes  blast  the  beauty  of  our  plaines^ 

If  Melos  loue  not  thee,  more  then  his  heart. 
Pan.   So  Melos  sweares,  but  tis  a  louers  othe.  195 

Melos.   Once  guiltie,  and  suspected  euermore! 

He  nere  be  guiltie  more,  suspect  me  not 
Pan.    Nor  I  suspect  thee  more,  mistrust  me  not: 

Learchus  neuer  toucht  Pandoraes  lips, 

Nor  Jphicies  receaud  a  friendly  word :  300 

Melos  hath  al  my  fauours,  and  for  all 

Doe  onely  this,  and  He  be  onely  thine. 

Go  vnto  Stesias  and  deny  thy  wordes. 

And  as  the  sunne  goes  downe  He  meete  thee  heare, 

302  this,]  F.  transferred  comma  from  end  of  preceding  Urn 

T  2 


276  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE   MOONE  [act  iv 

Melos,    I  will  Pandora;  and  to  cure  thy  wound,  acs 

Receiue  these  vertuous  hearbes  which  I  haue  found. 

(^Exit  Melos.) 
Pan.    A  prety  swayne  worthy  Pandoraes  loue ! 

But  I  haue  written  to  Learchus^  I, 

And  I  will  keepe  my  promise  though  I  dye; 

Enter  Learchus  with  a  letter^  and  Gunophilus. 

Which  is  to  cozen  him  as  he  did  me.  aio 

Lear,  {reading),  ^ Learchus^  my  loue  Learchus!^  O  the  iteration 
of  my  name  argues  her  affection.  '  Was  it  my  desert  ?  thine,  alas ! 
Pandora^  It  was  my  destiny  to  be  credulous  to  these  mis- 
creants. 

Gun,   Looke,  looke,  she  is  writing  to  you  agayne.  215 

Pan.   What,  is  he  come?   then  shall  my  tongue  declayme. 

Yet  am  I  bashfull  and  afeard  to  speake. 
Lear,    Blush  not,  Pandora;  who  hath  made  most  fault? 
Pan,    I  that  soUicit  thee  which  loues  me  not. 
Lear,   I  that  betrayd  thee,  which  offended  not.  220 

Pan,    Learchus  pardon  me  ! 
Lear,    Pandora  pardon  mee  ! 

Gun,  {aside).    All  friendes  !   and  so  they  kist. 
Pan,    I  can  but  smile  to  thinke  thou  wast  deceiud. 

Learchus  thou  must  to  my  husband  streight,  325 

And  say  that  thou  art  sory  for  thy  wordes, 

And  in  the  euening  ile  meete  thee  agayne, 

Vnder  the  same  groue  where  we  both  sat  last. 
Lear.    I  will.  Pandora;  but  looke  where  he  comes. 
Pan.   Then  giue  me  leaue  to  desemble.  250 

{Louder).  Tis  not  thy  sorrow  that  can  make  amends; 

Were  I  a  man  thou  shouldst  repent  thy  wordes ! 

{Enter  Stesias.) 
Ste,      Learchus  will  you  stand  vnto  your  wordes? 
Lear.    O,  Stesias  I  pardon  me :    twas  their  deceite. 

I  am  sory  that  I  iniurd  her.  235 

Ste.      They  lay  the  fault  on  thee,  and  thou  on  them; 

But  take  thee  that.  {Striking  him.) 

Pan,     Ah,  Stesias,  leaue;  you  shall  not  fight  for  me. 

211  [reading]  suppi.  F,  The  quarto  prints  speech  as  four  lines  of  verse: 
Learchns  . .  .  Learchus, — O  the  .  . .  affection, — Was  it .  .  •  Pandora, — It  was  . .  . 
miscreants.  Inv,  com.  suppL  by  F,  313  to'  Q  :  on  /*.  224  wast  Q,  slightly 
smeared:  was^t  F.  237  thee  so  QF,  s.  D.  [Striking  him]  suppl.  F. 


sc.  i]  THE   WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  277 

Go,  goe,  Learchus^  I  am  Stesiasses. 

Lear,    Art  thou?  240 

Gun,    No,  no,  Learchus^  she  doth  but  say  so. 
Ste,    Out  of  my  ground  Learchus^  from  my  land. 

And  from  hence  forward  come  not  neare  my  lawnes. 

Pandora  come :    Gunophilus  away  !  34  % 

Pan,    {aside  to  Lear.).   Learchus   meete   me  straight,  the   time 
drawes  nigh.  {Exit  Pand.  after  Stes.  and  Gun.) 

Lear,   The  time  draws  nigh, — O  that  the  time  were  now! 

I  go  to  meete  Pandora  at  the  groue.  Exit. 

Enter  Melds. 

Melos,   When  will  the  sun  go  downe  ?  flye  Phoebus  flye ! 
O,  that  thy  steeds  were  wingd  with  my  swift  thoughts : 
Now  shouldst  thou  fall  in  Thetis  azure  armes ; 
And  now  would  I  fall  in  Pandoraes  lap. 

Enter  Iphicles. 

Jphi,   Wherefore  did  Jupiter  create  the  day? 

Sweete  is  the  night  when  euery  creature  sleepes.     j 
Come  night,  come  gentle  night,  for  thee  I  stay.     . 

Melos,   Wherefore  dooth  Iphicles  desire  the  night?  255 

Iphi,  {starting).   Whose  that?   Melos  1   thy  words    did  make   me 
afeard ; 
I  wish  for  midnight  but  to  take  the  Wolfe, 
Which  kils  my  sheepe,  for  which  I  make  a  snare: 
Melos  farewell,  I  must  go  watch  my  flocks. 

Exit  Iphicles. 

Melos,   And  I  my  loue!  here  she  will  meet  me  streight.  260 

See  where  she  comes,  hiding  her  blushing  eyes. 

Enter  Stesias  in  womans  apparelL 

Melos,    My  loue  Pandora  for  whose  sake  I  Hue! 
Hide  not  thy  beauty  which  is  Melos  sunne. 
Here  is  none  but  vs  two,  lay  aside  thy  vale. 
Sie,    Here  is  Stesias ;  Melos  you  are  deceaud.  265 

He  striketh  Melos. 
Melos,    Pandora  hath  deceaud  me,  I  am  vndone!  {Exit,) 

Ste,   So  will  not  I,  syr:   I  meane  simply. 

Exit  {pursuing  him), 
s.  D.  Exit  l?H,/oil(fws  I.  260  Q  F.  264  two  F,:  too  Q 


278  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [act  iv 

Enter  Pandora  with  Gunophilus. 

Pan.    Come  hast  thou  all  his  lewels  and  his  pearles? 

Gun.   I,  all!   but  tell  me  which  way  shall  we  go? 

Pan.    Vnto  the  sea  side,  and  take  shipping  streight  270 

Gun.   Well  I  am  reuengd  at  last  of  my  Maister;   I  pray  God 
I  may  be  thus  euen  with  all  mine  enemyes,  onely  to  runne  away 
with  their  wiues. 
Pan.    Gunophilus^  for  thee  I  haue  done  this. 

Gun.    I,  and  for  your  selfe  too :  I  am  sure  you  wil  not  beg  by 
the  way. 
Pan.    For  thee  He  beg  and  dye  Gunophilus! 

Gun.  J,  so  I  thinke ;  the  world  is  so  hard,  that  if  yee  beg  yee 
may  be  sure  to  be  starud. 
Pan.   I  prythee  be  not  so  churlish.  280 

Gun.   O  this  is  but  m3nthe;  do  you  not  know 

Comes  facetus  est  tanquam  vehiculus  in  via  t 
A  merry  companion  is  as  good  as  a  Wagon,  for  you  shalbe  sure 
to  ryde  though  yee  go  a  foote. 
Pan.    Gunophilus,  setting  this  mirth  aside,  385 

Dost  thou  not  loue  me  more  then  all  the  world? 

Gun.  Be  you  as  stedfast  to  me  as  He  be  to  you,  and  we  two  wil 
goe  to  the  worlds  end ;  and  yet  we  cannot,  for  the  world  is  round, 
and  seeing  tys  round,  lets  daunce  in  the  circle :  come,  tume  about. 

(Th^  dance.} 
Pan.   When  I  forsake  thee,  then  heauen  it  selfe  shal  fall.         290 

Gun.    No,  God  forbid,  then  perhaps  we  should  haue  Larkes. 

£xeunt. 
Enter  Stesias  (^as  before). 

S/e.    This  is  Enipeus  banke,  here  she  should  be. 

Enter  Iphicles. 

/phi.  What,  is  it  midnight?  time  hath  bene  my  friend, 

Come  sweete  Pandora  all  is  safe  and  whist: 

Whither  flyes  my  loue?  295 

Ste.  Follow  me,  follow  me;  here  comes  Stesias! 
Iphi.  She  hath  betrayd  me:  whither  shall  I  flye? 
•SVcf.    Eyther  to  the  riuer,  or  els  to  thy  graue. 

I£e  strikes  Iphicles. 

s.  D.  [as  before]  not  in  Q  F.   Q  has  Enter  Stesias,  and  Iphicles,  repeating  Enter 
Iphicles  turf.  /.  395        s.  D.  He  strikes  l?H. /recedes  I.  398  Q 


/ 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  279 

Enter  Learchus. 

Lear,  The  euenings  past,  yea,  midnight  Is  at  hand. 

And  yet  Pandora  comes  not  at  the  groue.  300 

Ste,     But  Stesias  is  her  deputy,  he  comes; 

And  with  his  shephooke  greetes  Learchus  thus. 

He  layes  about 
Lear.    Pardon  me  Stesias^  twas  Pandoraes  wiles, 

That  hath  betrayd  me;  trust  her  not,  she  is  false.  304 

Ste,  Why  doest  thou  tell  me  the  contrary?  take  that;  she  is 
honest,  but  thou  wouldst  seduce  her.  Away  from  my  groue,  out  of 
my  land ;  did  I  not  giue  thee  warning  ? 

Exit  (^driving  them  out). 

ACT.  5. 

Enter  LuMa. 

Lu.   Now  other  planets  influence  is  done, 

To  Cynthia  lowest  of  the  erring  starres, 
'    Is  beautious  Pandora  giuen  in  charge. 

And  as  I  am,  so  shall  Pandora  bee. 

New  fangled,  fyckle,  slothfull,  foolish,  mad,  5 

In  spight  of  Nature^  that  enuies  vs  all. 

{Enter  Pandora  and  Gunophilus.) 
Gun.  Come,  come.  Pandora^  we  must  make  more  hast. 

Or  Stesias  will  ouertake  vs  both. 
Pan.   I  cannot  go  no  faster,  I  must  rest.  {She  lies  down.) 

Gun.  We  are  almost  at  the  sea  side:  I  pray  thee  ryse*  10 

Pan.   O  I  am  faynt  and  weary,  let  me  sleepe. 
Gun.  Pandora^  if  thou  loue  me,  let  vs  goe. 
Pan.   Why  doest  thou  waken  me?  ile  remember  this. 
Gun.  What,  are  you  angry  with  me? 
Pan.   No,  with  my  selfe  for  louing  such  a  swayne.  15 

What  fury  made  me  doate  vpon  these  lookes? 

Like  winters  picture  are  his  withered  cheekes, 

His  hayre  as  rauens  plumes ;  ah !  touch  me  not ! 
I  His  handes  are  like  the  finnes  of  some  foule  fish ; 

305-7  Why  . . .  warning  11  QF.  print  as  verse  *  Why  . .  .  that, — She  . . .  her.— 
Away  . . .  land,— Did  . . .  warnbg  ? '  6  nature  Q  14  What  arc  Q 


h 


280  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  [act  v 


I..ooke  how  he  mowes,  like  to  an  aged  ape !        *  20 

Ouer  the  chayne,  lacke !   or  ile  make  thee  leape ! 

Gun.   AVhat  a  suddayne  change  is  here? 

I\in.   Now  he  sweares  by  his  ten  bones;  downe,  I  say! 

Gun,    Did  I  not  tell  you  I  should  haue  Larkes? 
^  Pan.  Where  is  the  larks?  come,  wee!  go  catch  some  streight !  25 

No,  let  TS  go  a  fishing  with  a  net! 

With  a  net?   no,  an  angle  is  enough: 

An  angle,  a  net,  no  none  of  both, 

Ile  wade  into  the  water,  water  is  fayre. 

And  stroke  the  fishes  vnder  neath  the  gilles.  30 

But  first  Ile  go  a  hunting  in  the  wood; 

I  like  not  hunting;  let  me  haue  a  hawke. 

What  wilt  thou  say  and  if  I  loue  thee  still? 
Gun.   Any  thing,  what  you  will! 
Pan.   But  shall  I  haue  a  gowne  of  oken  leaues,  35 

A  chaplet  of  red  berries,  and  a  fanne 

Made  of  the  morning  dewe  to  coole  my  face  ? 

How  often  will  you  kisse  me  in  an  houre? 

And  where  shall  we  sit  till  the  sunne  be  downe? 

For  Nocfe  latent  menda. 
Gun.  What  then?  .    40 

Pan.   I  will  not  kisse  thee  till  the  sunne  be  downe; 

That  art  deformd,  the  nyght  will  couer  thee; 
•      We  women  must  be  modest  in  the  day: 

0  tempt  me  not  vntill  the  euening  come. 

Gun.  Lucretia  toto  45 

Sis  licet  vsque  die :   Thaida  node  volo. 
Hate  me  a  dayes,  and  loue  me  in  the  nyght. 
Pan.    Calst  thou  me  Thais ^  goe,  and  loue  not  me; 

1  am  not  Thais^  Ile  be  Lucretia^  I ; 

Giue  me  a  knife,  and  for  my  chastety  50 

Ile  dye  to  be  canonized  a  saynt. 
Gun.   But  you  will  loue  me  when  the  sun  is  downe? 
Pan.    No,  but  I  will  not! 

Gun.  Did  you  not  promise  me? 

Pan.    No,  I !   I  saw  thee  not  till  now. 

36  fanne  F.\  Q  turning  (he  n,  faune  39  we  F.i  mt  Q  45-6  Lucretia 

toto  sis  &c.]  Lucretise  tota  sis  &c  Q :     Lucretia  tota  sis  &c.  F.—both,  giving 
the  whole  as  om  line       54  No,  I !  F.i  No  I,  Q,  i,e.  perh.  No,  ay !  but  qy.  t  Not  I ! 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  281 

Gun.  Do  you  see  me  now  ? 

Pan.  I !  and  loth  thee  ! 

Gun.  Belike  I  was  a  spirit  all  this  while? 

Pan.  A  spirit!   a  spirit!   whither  may  I  flye?    -^v  _ 


55 


Enter  Stesias  (i>r  his  awn  attire). 

Ste.     I  see  Pandora  and  GunopMlus. 

Pan.  And  I  see  Stesias ;   welcome,  Stesias  i 

Ste.    Gunophilus^  thou  hast  inveigled  her,  60 

And  robd  me  of  my  treasure  and  my  wife. 

He  strippe  thee  to  the  skinne  for  this  offence, 

And  put  thee  in  a  wood  to  be  deuourd 

Of  emptie  Tygres,  and  of  hungry  Wolues, 

Nor  shall  thy  sad  lookes  moue  me  vnto  rueth.  65 

Gun.   Pardon  me,  mayster;   she  is  Lunaticke, 

Foolish  and  franticke,  and  I  followed  her, 

Onely  to  saue  the  goods  and  bring  her  backe: 

Why  thinke  you  I  would  runne  away  with  her? 
Pan.    He  neede  not,  for  He  runne  away  with  him;  70 

And  yet  I  will  go  home  with  Stesias : 

So  I  shall  haue  a  white  lambe  coloured  blacke, 

Two  little  sparrowes,  and  a  spotted  fawne. 
Ste.     I  feare  it  is  too  true  that  he  reportes. 
Gun.  Nay,  stay  a  while,  and  you  shall  see  her  daunce.  75 

Pan.    No,  no,  I  will  not  daunce,  but  I  will  sing:  {Sings.) 

Stesias  hath  a  white  hand, 

But  his  nayles  are  blacke; 
His  fingers  are  long  and  small. 

Shall  I  make  them  cracke?  So 

One,  two,  and  three; 
I  loue  him,  and  he  loues  me. 

Beware  of  the  shephooke ; 
He  tell  you  one  thing. 
If  you  aske  me  why  I  sing,  85 

I  say  yee  may  go  looke. 

Ste.      Pandora  speake;  louest  thou  Gunophilus? 
Pan.    I,  if  he  be  a  fish,  for  fish  is  fine ; 

Sweete  Stesias  helpe  me  to  a  whiting  moppe. 

60  has  F.        Ti  Stesias  &c.]  song  printed  without  change  of  type  ^  and  first  six 
lines  as  three  Q  J\  88  is  Q :  are  F, 


^J 


282  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  [act  v 

Ste,     Now  I  perceiue  that  she  is  lunaticke:  90 

What  may  I  do  to  bring  her  to  her  wits? 
Gun,   Speake,  gentle  maister,  and  intreat  her  fayre. 
Ste,     Pandora^  my  loue  Pandora/ 
Pan.   He  not  be  fayre;  why  call  you  me  your  loue 

Loue  is  a  little  boy,  so  am  not  I !  95 

Ste.   I  will  allure  her  with  fayre  promises; 

And  when  I  haue  her  in  my  leauie  bower, 

Pray  to  our  water  Nimphes  and  Siluane  gods, 

To  cure  her  of  this  piteous  lunacye. 
Pan,   Giue  me  a  running  streame  in  both  my  hands,  too 

A  blew  kings  fisher,  and  a  pible  stone. 

And  He  catch  butter  flies  vpon  the  sand, 

And  thou  Gunophilus  shalt  clippe  their  wings. 
Ste.   lie  giue  thee  streames  whose  pibble  shalbe  pearle, 

Loue  birdes  whose  feathers  shalbe  beaten  gold,  105 

Musk  flyes  with  amber  berries  in  their  mouthes^ 

Milke  white  Squirrels,  singing  Popiniayes, 

A  boat  of  deare  skins,  and  a  fleeting  He, 

A  sugar  cane,  and  line  of  twisted  silke.    _ 
Pan.  Where  be  all  these?  no 

Ste.  I  haue  them  in  my  bower;  come,  follow  me. 

Pan.  Streames  with  pearles  ?  birdes  with  golden  feathers  ?  Musk 
flyes,  and  amber  berries  ?  white  Squirrels,  And  singing  Popiniayes  ?  a 
boat  of  deare  skins  ?  Come,  He  goe !  He  go !  Exeunt  (Stes.  Pand.). 

Gun.  I  was  nere  in  loue  with  her  till  now,  O  absolute  Pandora  I 
because  folish,  for  folly  is  womens  perfection.  To  talke  Idely,  to 
loke  wildly,  to  laugh  at  euery  breath  and  play  with  a  feather,  is  that 
would  make  a  Stoyke  in  loue,  yea,  thou  thy  selfe,  iis 

O  Marce  fill  annum  iam  audientem  Cratippum  idque  Athenis. 

Grauity  in  a  woman  is  like  to  a  gray  beard  vpon  a  breaching  boies 
chinne,  which  a  good  Scholemaister  would  cause  to  be  dipt,  and 
the  wise  husband  to  be  avoyded. 

Enter  Melds  and  the  rest. 

Melos.   Gunophilus^  where  is  thy  Mistresse  ? 
Gun.   A  ketching  a  blew  kings  fisher. 

107  Milke  Q:  Mask  P.         11 2-4  Streames  ...  go!]  as  verse  Q  F.  Streames 

.  .  .  feathers  ? — Musk  .  .  .  Squirrels, — And  .  .  .  deare  skins  ? — Come  .  .  .  go. 

117  breath]  breach/:  misled  by  battered  i  of  Q              118  selfe.  Q  F.  119 
Marce]  Marci  QF.  {see  note)          119  Atbiseois  Q  :  Athoenis  F. 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE   MOONE  283 

Iphi.  Tell  Ts  where  is  she  ?  125 

Gun.  A  gathering  little  pibles. 

Lear,  What !  dost  thou  mocke  vs  ? 

Gun,  No :  but  if  she  were  here  she  would  make  mowes  at  the 
proudest  of  you. 

Melos.   What  meanest  thou  by  this  ?  130 

Gun.   I  meane  my  mistres  is  become  folish. 
Jphi.     A  iust  reward  for  one  so  false  as  shee. 
Afe/os.   Such  hap  betide  those  that  intend  vs  ill. 
/.ear.     Neuer  were  simple  shepherdes  so  abusd. 
/p^\     GunopMlus  thou  hast  betrayd  vs  all.  155 

Thou  broughtest  this  ring  from  her  which  made  me  come. 
Melos.  And  thou  this  bloody  napkin  vnto  me. 
Lear.     And  thou  this  flattering  letter  vnto  me. 

Gun.  Why  I  brought  you  the  ring  thinking  you  and  shee  should 
be  maried  togeather.  And  being  hurt,  as  she  told  me,  I  had  thought 
she  had  sent  for  you  as  a  surgeon.  141 

Lear.  But  why  broughtest  thou  me  this  letter? 

Gun.  Onely  to  certifie  you  that  she  was  in  health,  as  I  was  at  the 
bringing  hereof.  And  thus  being  loth  to  trouble  you,  I  commit  you 
to  God.     Yours,  as  his  owne,  Gunophilus.  Exit. 

Melos.  The  wicked  youngling  flouteth  vs ;    let  him  goe  !  146 

Lear.     Immortall  Pan^  where  ere  this  lad  remaynes, 

Reuenge  the  wrong  that  he  hath  done  thy  swaines. 
Melos.   O  that  a  creature  so  diuine  as  she, 

Whose  beauty  might  inforce  the  heauens  to  blush,  150 

And  make  fayre  Nature  angry  at  the  hart 

That  she  hath  made  her  to  obscure  her  selfe, 

Should  be  so  fickle  and  so  full  of  slightes, 

And  fayning  loue  to  all,  loue  none  at  all. 
Iphi.      Had  she  been  constant  vnto  Iphicles,  155 

I  would  haue  clad  her  in  sweete  Floraes  roabes: 

Haue  set  Dianaes  garland  on  her  head. 

Made  her  sole  mistres  of  my  wanton  flocke, 

And  sing  in  honour  of  her  diety. 

Where  now  with  teares  I  curse  Pandoraes  name.  160 

J^ar.     The  springs  that  smild  to  see  Pandoraes  face. 

And  leapt  aboue  the  bankes  to  touch  her  lippes; 

'43-5  Onely  .  . .  Gnnophilos]  as  verse  Q  :  Onely .  . .  health, — As  I .  . .  hereof. 
— And  thus  . .  .  God. — Yours  . . .  Gunophilus. 


284  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  [act  v 

The  proud  playnes  dauncing  with  Pandoraes  weight; 

The  locund  trees  that  vald  when  she  came  neare, 

And  in  the  murmur  of  their  whispering  leaues,  165 

Did  seeme  to  say,  '  Pandora  is  our  Queene  I ' 

Witnesse  how  fayre  and  beautifull  she  was, 

But  now  alone  how  false  and  treacherous! 
Melos.   Here  I  abiure  Pandora^  and  protest 

To  Hue  for  euer  in  a  single  life.  170 

Lear.  The  like  vow  makes  Ltarchus  to  great  Pan. 
Iphu  And  IpfUcles ;  though  soare  agaynst  his  will. 
Lear.   In  witness^  of  my  vow  I  rend  these  lines;— 

O  thus  be  my  loue  disperst  into  the  ayre  i 
Melos.  Here  lie  the  bloody  Napkin  which  she  sent,  175 

And  with  it  my  affection,  and  my  loue. 
Iphi.   Breake,  breake,  Pandoraes  ring ;  and  with  it  breake 

Pandoraes  loue,  that  almost  burst  my  heart. 

Enter  Stesias,  Pandora,  land  Gunophilus. 

Ste,    Ah  whither  runnes  my  loue  Pandora  f   stay, 

Gentle  Pandora  stay;   runne  not  so  fast.  x8o 

Pan,   Shall  I  not  stamp  vpon  the  ground?   I  will! 

Who  sayth  Pandora  shall  not  rend  her  hayre? 

Where  is  the  groue  that  askt  me  how  I  did? 

Giue  me  an  angle,  for  the  fish  will  bite. 
Melos,   Looke  how  Pandora  raves!   now  she  is  starke  mad.      185 
Ste,       For  you  she  raues,  that  meant  to  rauish  her; 

Helpe  to  recouer  her  or  els  yee  dye ! 
Lear.     May  she  with  rauing  dye !   do  what  thou  darst. 
Iphi.      She  ouer  reacht  vs  with  deceitfuU  guile; 

And  Pan,  to  whom  we  prayed,  hath  wrought  reuenge.  190 

Pan.   He  haue  the  Ocean  put  into  a  glasse, 

And  drinke  it  to  the  health  of  Stesias. 

Thy  head  is  full  of  hediockes  Jphicks, 

So,  shake  them  of;   now  let  me  see  thy  hand; 

Looke  where  a  biasing  starre  is  in  this  line,  195 

And  in  the  other  two  and  twenty  sonnes. 
Ste.     Come,  come,  Pandora;   sleepe  within  my  armes. 
Pan.   Thine  armes  are  firebrandesi   whers  Gunophilus  t 

Go  kisse  the  eccho,  and  bid  loue  vntrusse; 

166  inv. com. first F.       188  dye?  Q,  1.^. dye!  aiustial:  dye;  /*.       190  had/\ 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  285 

Go  fetch  the  blacke  Goat  with  the  brazen  heele,  aoo 

And  tell  the  Bell-wether  I  heare  him  not. 

Not,  not,  not,  that  you  should  not  come  vnto  me 

This  nighty  not  at  all,  at  all,  at  all.  Dormit. 

Gun.  She  is  a  sleepe,  mayster;   shall  I  wake  her? 
Ste.  O  no  Gunophilus ;   there  let  her  sleepe,  205 

And  let  vs  pray  that  she  may  be  recurd. 
Lear,    Siestas  thou  pittiest  her  that  loues  thee  not. 
Meios.  The  wordes  we  told  thee  Stesias  were  too  true. 
IphL     Neuer  did  Iphicles  desemble  yet : 

Beleeue  me  Stesias  she  hath  l>een  vntrue.  a  10 

Sit,      Yet  will  you  slay  me  with  your  slaunderous  words? 

Did  you  not  all  sweare  for  her  chastety? 
Lear,  It  was  her  subtle  wit  that  made  vs  sweare ; 

For,  Stesias^  know  she  shewed  loue  to  vs  all. 

And  seuerally  sent  for  vs  by  this  swayne.  215 

And  vnto  me  he  brought  such  hony  lines, 

As  ouercomd,  I  flew  vnto  her  bower; 

Who,  when  I  came,  swore  she  loud  me  a  lone. 

Willing  me  to  deny  the  wordes  I  spoke. 

And  she  at  night  would  meete  me  in  the  groue.  aao 

Thus  meaning  simply,  lo !   I  was  betrayd. 
Melos,    Gunophiius  brought  me  a  bloody  cloth. 

Saying  for  my  loue  she  was  almost  slayne; 

And  when  I  came  she  vsed  me  as  this  swaine. 

Protesting  loue,  and  poynting  me  this  place.  aas 

Jphi,  And  by  this  bearer  I  receiued  a  ring. 

And  many  a  louing  word  that  drew  me  foorth. 

O  that  a  woman  should  desemble  so ! 

She  then  forswore  Learchus  and  this  swaine, 

Saying  that  Iphicles  was  onely  hers;  330 

Whereat  I  promised  to  deny  my  wordes. 

And  she  to  meete  me  at  Enipeus  bankes. 
Ste,  Wert  thou  the  messenger  vnto  them  all? 
Gun,  I  was,  and  all  that  they  haue  sayde  is  true; 

She  loud  not  you,  nor  them,  but  me  alone.  235 

How  oft  hath  she  runne  vp  and  downe  the  lawnes. 

Calling  aloud— 'Where  is  Gunophilus V 

23a  Enipeus]  Enepius  Q  F,        235  loud]  loue  Q  :  lov'd  F.       237  inv. com, first F. 


286  THE  WOMAN   IN  THE   MOONE  [act  v 

Ste.  {aside).  Ah !  how  my  hart  swels  at  these  miscreants  wordes ! 
Melos,  Come  let  vs  leaue  him  in  this  pensiue  mood. 
Lear,     Fret,  Stesias,  fret;  while  we  daunce  on  the  playne.       240 
Melos,  Such  fortune  happen  to  incredulus  swaines. 
Iphi,      Sweete  is  a  single  life;  Stesias  farewell. 
~~       -^^  -Ejirtftt«/(IPH.  Mel.  a«^/ Lear.). 

Ste,  Go  life,  flye  soule;  go,  wretched  Stesias! 
'^  Curst  be  Vtopia  for  Pandoraes  sake! 

Let  wild  bores  with  their  tuskes  plow  vp  my  lawnes,  245 

Deuouring  Wolues  come  shake  my  tender  lambes, 

Driue  vp  my  goates  vnto  some*steepy  rocke. 

And  let  them  fall  downe  headlong  in  the  sea. 

She  shall  not  Hue,  nor  thou  Gunophilus^ 

To  triumph  in  poore  Stesias  ouerthrow.  350 

Enter  the  seauen  Planets. 

Sat,   Stay  shepherd,  stay! 

Jup,   Hurt  not  Pandora^  louely  Stesias. 

She  awakes  and  is  sober. 
Pan,      What  meanes  my  loue,  to  looke  so  pale  and  wan?  /    • 
Ste,        For  thee,  base  strumpet,  am  I  pale  and  wanne. 
Mer,      Speake  mildly,  or  He  make  thee,  crabbed  swainel        255 
Sol,        Take  her  agayne,  and  loue  her,  Stesias. 
Ste.        Not  for  Vtopia!  no,  not  for  the  world! 
Venus.  Ah!  canst  thou  frowne  on  her  that  lookes  so  sweet? 
Pan.      Haue  I  offended  thee?    He  make  amends. 
Mer.      And  what  canst  thou  demaund  more  at  her  band?       260 
Ste.        To  slay  her  selfe,  that  I  may  liue  alone. 
Luna.     Flint  harted  shepherd,  thou  deseruest  her  not. 
Ste.        If  thou  be  V<7i^,  conuey  her  from  the  earth. 

And  punish  this  Gunophilus  her  man. 

Gun,  O  loue/   let  this  be  my  punishment,  to  liue  still  with 

Pandora.  266 

Enter  Nature. 

Nat.   Enuious  planets,  you  haue  done  your  worst. 
Yet  in  despight  of  you  Pandora  Hues ; 
And  seeing  the  shepherds  haue  abiurd  her  loue. 
She  shalbe  placed  in  one  of  your  seauen  orbs.  970 

But  thou  that  has  not  serud  her  as  I  wild, 

262  deserveth/*. 


sc.  i]  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  MOONE  287 

Vanish  into  a  Haythorne  as  thou  standst, 
Neare  shalt  thou  wait  vpon  Pandora  more. 

Exit  GUNOPHILUS. 

Sat.   O  Nature!  place  Pandora  in  my  sphere, 

For  I  am  old,  and  she  will  make  me  young.  275 

Jup,       With  me  I  and  I  will  leaue  the  Queene  of  heauen. 
Mars.    With  me  i  and   Venus  shall  no  more  be  mine. 
SoL        With  me!  and  He  forget  fayre  Daphnes  loue. 
Venus,    With  me !  and  ile  tume  Cupid  out  of  doores. 
Mer.      With  me!  and  ile  forsake  Agiauros  loue.  2S0 

Luna.     No !  fayre  Pandora,  stay  with  Cynthia^ 

And  I  will  loue  thee  more  then  all  the  rest: 

Rule  thou  my  starre,  while  I  stay  in  the  woods, 

Or  keepe  with  Pluto  in  the  infemall  shades. 
Ste.    Go  where  thou  wilt  so  I  be  rid  of  thee.  2S5 

Nat.    Speake,  my  Pandora ;  where  wilt  thou  be  (placed)  ? 
Pan.    Not  with  old  Saturne  for  he  lookes  like  death. 

Nor  yet  with  Jupiter^  least  luno  storme; 

Nor  with  thee  Mars,  for  Venus  is  thy  loue; 

Nor  with  thee  Sol,  thou  hast  two  Parramours,  290 

The  sea  borne  Thetis  and  the  rudy  mome. 

Nor  with  thee  Venus,  least  I  be  in  loue 

With  blindfold  Cupid  or  young  loculus ; 

Nor  with  thee  Hermes,  thou  art  full  of  slightes. 

And  when  I  need  thee  loue  will  send  thee  foorth.  295 

Say  Cynthia^  shall  Pandora  rule  thy  starre, 

And  wilt  thou  play  Diana  in  the  woods, 

Or  Hecate  in  Plutos  regiment? 
Luna.    I,  Pandora! 
Pan.    Fayre  Nature  let  thy  hand  mayd  dwell  with  her,    ,         300 

For  know  that  change  is  my  felicity, 

And  ficklenesse  Pandoraes  proper  forme. 

Thou  madst  me  sullen  first,  and  thou  loue,  proud; 

Thou  bloody  minded ;  he  a  Puritan : 

Thou  Venus  madst  me  loue  all  that  I  saw,  305 

And  Hermes  to  deceiue  all  that  I  loue; 

But  Cynthia  made  me  idle,  mutable, 

ForgetfuU,  foolish,  fickle,  franticke,  madde; 

277  Mars.  F.:  Mer.  Q  286  placed  required  by  metre  291  sea- 

bore  F,  308  Forgetfall  misplaced  at  tlte  end  of  preceding  line  Q  F. 


288 


THE  WOMAN  IN   THE  MOONE     [actv,sci 


These  be  the  humors  that  content  me  best, 
And  therefore  will  I  stay  with  Cynthia, 

Nat,    And  Stesias  since  thou  setst  so  light  on  her. 
Be  thou  her  slaue,  and  follow  her  in  the  Moone. 

Ste.  He  rather  dye  then  beare  her  company ! 

Jup.   Nature  will  haue  it  so,  attend  on  her. 

Nat,    He  haue  thee  be  her  vassaile,  murmur  not. 

Ste,  Then,  to  reuenge  me  of  Gunophilus^ 

He  rend  this  hathorne  with  my  furious  hands, 
And  beare  this  bush ;  if  eare  she  looke  but  backe. 
He  scratch  her  face  that  was  so  false  to  me. 

Nat,   Now  rule.  Pandora^  in  fayre  Cynthias  steede. 
And  make  the  moone  inconstant  like  thy  selfe; 
Raigne  thou  at  womens  nuptials,  and  their  birth; 
Let  them  be  mutable  in  all  their  loues,  1 

Fantasticall,  childish,  and  folish,  in  their  desires, 
Demaunding  toyes : 

And  Starke  madde  when  they  cannot  haue  their  will. 
Now  follow  me  ye  wandring  lightes  of  beauen, 
And  grieue  not,  that  she  is  not  plast  with  you; 
All  you  shall  glaunce  at  her  in  your  aspects, 
And  in  coniunction  dwell  with  her  a  space. 

Ste,    O  that  they  had  my  roome ! 

Nat,    I  charge  thee  follow  her,  but  hurt  her  not. 


510 


3x5 


320 


3*5 


330 


{Exeunt,) 


Finis. 


326  And  Starke  madde  placed  as  completion  of  preceding  line  Q  F,      Tikis  rare 
irregularity  suggests  the  loss  of  some  words  329  All  Q :  And  F, 


LOVES    METAMORPHOSIS 


EDITIONS 

'  43  Regine.  35  Novembris  1600  william  wood  Entred  for  his  Copie  ynder  the 
haodes  of  Master  PasTeild  and  the  wardens  A  booke  Called  Loves  metamorphetis 
wrytten  by  master  John  Lylly  and  playd  by  the  Children  of  Paoles  .  .  yj**.* 
Stationers*  Register,  Hi.  176  (ed.  Arb.). 

Q.  Loves  Meiar\morpkosis.  \  A  \  Wittie  and  Courtly  \  Pastorall,  \  WritUn  by  \ 
Mr,  John  Lyllie.  \  First  playd  by  the  Children  ofPaules,  and  new  \  by  the  Children 
of  the  Chappell,  \  London  \  Printed  for  William  Wood^  dwelling  at  the  West  end 
of\  PauleSy  at  the  signe  of  Time .  1601.  |  4to.  A  (verso  blank),  B>F4  in  fours, 
G  (yerso  blank).  No  col.  {Br,  Mus. :  Bodl, :  Magd^  Coll,  Camb, :  Dyce  ColL 
S,  /Censing.) 

Not  inclnded  among  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies,  its  second  publication  being  that 
of  Fairholt*s  edition  of  the  Dramatic  Works,  toL  ii.  1858. 


BOMO    III  U 


LOVES    METAMORPHOSIS 

Argument. — Erisichthon,  a  wealthy  farmer,  jealous  of  honours 
paid  to  Ceres  by  her  nymphs,  destroys  a  tree  sacred  to  the  goddess ; 
and  in  so  doing  kills  another  nymph  of  Ceres,  Fidelia,  who  has 
found  protection  in  that  shape  from  the  pursuit  of  a  sat)rr.  Ceres 
in  revenge  commissions  Famine  to  prey  on  the  offender,  who  is 
speedily  reduced  by  his  insatiable  hunger  to  poverty,  and  sells  his 
daughter,  Protea,  to  a  merchant.  Her  appeal  to  Neptune  enables 
her  to  elude  her  purchaser  in  the  form  of  a  fisherman;  and  by 
a  second  transformation  to  the  likeness  of  Ulysses  she  rescues  her 
lover,  and  father's  benefactor,  Petulius,  from  the  dangerous  fascina- 
tions of  a  Siren.  Meantime  Ceres'  three  nymphs,  Nisa,  Celia,  and 
Niobe,  to  whose  information  the  farmer  owed  his  punishment,  have 
themselves  incurred  the  displeasure  of  Cupid  by  disdainful  treatment 
of  three  admiring  foresters ;  and  at  the  latters'  request  the  god  trans- 
forms them  respectively  into  a  rock,  a  rose,  and  a  bird.  Ceres' 
petition  for  their  release  is  used  by  Cupid  to  extort  from  her  the 
pardon  of  Erisichthon,  whose  daughter's  faithful  love  has  given  her 
a  claim  on  his  protection.  The  nymphs  recover  their  shape  on  con- 
dition of  their  acceptance  of  the  amorous  foresters,  and  the  wedding- 
feast  is  held  at  Erisichthon's  house. 

Text — I  follow  the  original  quarto  edition  of  i6or,  which  has 
few  serious  errors,  the  chief  being  pp.  303,  *constancie'  for  *in- 
constancie,' 305  'Miretia'  for  *Mirrha,'  325  'fames'  for  'formes,' 
330  *  Nisa '  for  *  Niobe,'  and  one  or  two  scenes  misnumbered.  The 
fourteen  Latin  quotations  are  given  with  unusual  accuracy :  probably 
the  author  gave  more  personal  attention  to  the  printing.  But  there 
is  the  same  paucity  of  stage-directions,  due  probably  to  the  fact  that 
he  himself  supervised  its  production  and  instructed  the  actors  by 
word  of  mouth ;  while  to  a  similar  cause  may  be  assigned  (Essay, 
vol.  ii.  265)  the  loss  of  the  four  songs,  indicated  in  i.  2  the  Nymphs, 
iii.  I  Niobe  and  Silvestris,  and  iv.  2  two  by  the  Siren. 


LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS  291 

Fairbolt's  text,  escaping  in  this  instance  the  unfortunate  interven- 
tion of  Blounty  who  does  not  include  the  play  in  the  Sixe  Covrt 
Comedies^  is  much  better  than  usual.  It  corrects  the  mistake  on 
p.  325,  and  the  numbering  of  the  scenes,  and  it  sometimes  emends 
the  punctuation ;  but  it  leaves  the  other  errors  unrepaired ;  it  omits 
half  a  line  p.  32 1,  a  speech  of  Petulius  p.  328,  and  '  take '  on  p.  33 1 ; 
it  introduces  some  half-dozen  stupid  mis-spellings,  and  some  other 
errors,  e.g.  pp.  311  *No'  for  *Not,*  314  'garland'  for  'garlands,' 
318  'fond*  for  'found/  329  'And*  for  'Are*;  and  it  fails  to  supply 
some  needed  stage-directions^  though  those  required  for  iii.  \  and 
iv.  2  are  suggested  in  a  note. 


Authorship. — Lyly's  authorship  is  proved  by  his  own  name^  and 
those  of  the  two  Children's  companies  with  which  he  was  connected, 
on  the  title-page;  by  the  generally  euphuistic  character  of  the 
speeches  (cf.  i.  i,  i.  2  p.  305,  iv.  i  pp.  319-20,  v.  i  p.  325,  v.  3,  v.  4 
p.  329),  by  ten  distinct  echoes  of  Euphues  itself  (given  in  the 
notes),  and  by  the  ample  use  made  of  his  favourite  Latin  poet 
Ovid. 


Sotirces. — For  the  somewhat  slender  scaffolding  which,  in  virtue 
of  its  prior  introduction  and  the  larger  share  of  dialogue  allotted  to 
it,  pretends  to  the  position  of  main  plot — that,  namely,  which  deals 
with  the  loves  of  Ceres'  n3rmphs  and  the  three  foresters — Lyly  seems 
to  have  had  no  other  source  than  his  own  invention ;  though  the 
same  book  of  the  Metamorphoses^  from  which  he  drew  the  by-plot, 
contains  transformations  of  Nisus  into  a  bird,  of  Naiads  into  islands, 
and  of  Philemon  and  Baucis  into  trees,  while  Bk.  vi.  146-312  relates 
that  of '  Niobe  in  marmor  V  In  the  by-plot,  which  is  interwoven  with 
considerable  skill,  he  follows  very  closely  Ovid's  Metamorphoses^  viii. 
738-878.  There  we  read  how  Erisichthon,  jealous  of  Ceres'  honours, 
attacks  her  sacred  oak,  hung  with  garlands  '  memoresque  tabellae,' 
under  which  '  Dryades  festas  duxere  choreas '  (cf.  i.  i  and  2).  The 
blows  of  his  axe  are  followed  by  a  flow  of  blood  and  a  voice  from  an 
unnamed  nymph  of  Ceres  confined  in  the  tree,  who  at  the  moment 
of  her  death  prophesies  Erisichthon's  punishment.     Ceres,  informed 

^  See,  however,  what  is  said  aboat  a  possible  suggestion  for  Nisa  and  her  trans- 
fonnation  in  Sannazarro*s  Eclogae  Piscatoriae  and  Boccaccio's  Amtio^  below, 
p.  395* 

U2 


293  LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS 

by  the  Dryads,  devises  his  destruction  by  Famine,  the  allegorical 
description  of  whom  is  almost  verbally  copied  by  Lyly : 

Quae  quatenus  ipsi 
Non  adeunda  Deae  (neque  enim  Cereremque  Famemque 
Fata  coire  sinunt),  montani  numinis  unam 
Talibus  agrestem  compellat,  Oreada,  dictis: 
Est  locus  extremis  Scythiae  glacialis  in  oris, 
Triste  solum,  sterilis,  sine  fruge,  sine  arbore,  tellus; 
Frigus  iners  iUic  habitant,  Pallorque,  Tremorque, 
£t  ieiuna  Fames:  ea  se  in  praecordia  condat 
Sacrilegi  scelerata,  iube:  nee  copia  rerum 
Vincat  eam ;  superetque  meas  certamine  vires. 

The  Oread  (unnamed  by  Ovid,  *  Tirtena  *  in  Lyly — from  *  Tirrena ' 
in  Sannazarro's  Arcadia  ?)  obeys : 

Quaesitamque  Famem  lapidoso  vidit  in  agro, 

Vnguibus,  et  raras  vellentem  dentibus  herbas. 

Hirtus  erat  crinis;  caua  lamina;  pallor  in  ore; 

Labra  incana  situ;  scabri  rubigine  dentes; 

Dura  cutis,  per  quam  spectari  viscera  possent; 

Ossa  sub  incuruis  extabant  arida  lumbis; 

Ventris  erat  pro  ventre  locus :  pendere  putares 

Pectus,  et  a  spinae  tantummodo  crate  teneri. 

Auxerat  articulos  macies,  genuumque  rigebat 

Orbis,  et  immodico  prodibant  tubere  tali. 

Hanc  procul  ut  vidit  (neque  enim  est  accedere  iuxta  \dL  Act  ii.  sc  i; 

Ausa)  refert  numdata  Deae ;  &c.  L  32]. 

As  in  Lyly  Erisichthon  exhausts  his  patrimony  in  the  endeavour 
to  assuage  his  hunger,  and  finally  sells  his  daughter  (Metra,  unnamed 
by  Ovid,  who  merely  calls  her  '  Autolyci  coniux ') : 

Tandem,  demisso  in  viscera  censu, 
Filia  restabat,  non  illo  digna  parente. 
Hanc  quoque  vendit  inops.    Dominum  generosa  recusat ;  [cL 

Protea's  *  Gentleman,'  &c.  iii.  2.  41]. 
Et  vicina  suas  tendens  super  aequora  palmas, 
Eripe  me  domino,  qui  raptae  praemia  nobis 
Virginitatis  habes,  ait.    (Haec  Neptunus  habebat.) 
Qui  prece  non  spreta,  quamuis  modo  visa  sequenti 
Esset  hero  [i.e.  domino],  formamque  nouat,  vultumque  virilem 
Induit,  et  cultus  piscem  capientibus  aptos: 

in  which  shape  she  eludes  her  purchaser's  inquiries,  and  returns  to 
her  father. 

Lyly  b  original  only  in  making  Erisichthon  a  farmer,  in  the  motive 


LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS  293 

of  a  satyr's  pursuit  for  the  change  of  Fidelia  into  a  tree,  in  the  names 
Protea  (borrowed  from  the  transformations  of  Proteus  summarized 
by  Ovid  just  before,  11.  730-7)  and  Petulius  (for  Ovid's  *Auto- 
lycus '),  whom  he  represents  as  Protea's  suitor  and  her  father's  bene- 
factor, rather  than  as  her  husband,  and  in  the  pardon  accorded  to 
Erisichthon,  who  in  Ovid  perishes  by  devouring  his  own  flesh :  little 
changes  subserving  the  purpose  of  dramatic  unity.  Also,  for  variety's 
sake  and  to  give  Protea  opportunity  for  a  new  transformation,  he 
adds  the  Siren,  suggested  perhaps  by  their  conjunction  with  Ceres 
in  Metatnorph,  v.  557-63  *  and  Hyginus'  Fable  CXLI^  where  '  Cereris 
voluntate,  quod  Proserpinae  auxilium  non  tulerant,  volaticae  sunt 
factae';  mingling  the  classical  conception  with  the  Teutonic  and 
Northern  superstition  of  mermaids,  just  as  in  The  Woman  in  the 
Moone  he  mingles  the  classical  divinities  with  the  mediaeval  notion 
of  planetary  influence. 

I  have  exhibited  his  debt  to  Ovid  thus  fully  because  of  the  natural 
temptation  to  connect  the  play  rather  with  Spenser's  Faerie  Queene, 
the  first  three  books  of  which  appeared  in  1590.  The  striking  in- 
cident  of  Fidelia  bears  considerable  resemblance  to  that  of  Fradubio 
and  Fraclissa,  borrowed  from  Ariosto  in  Bk.  i,  canto  2';  while  the 
description  of  Famine  might  be  modelled  on  Spenser's  similar  pic- 
tures of  Idleness,  Gluttony,  Wrath,  &c.,  in  Bk.  i,  c.  4,  or  on*  those  of 
Doubt,  Danger,  Fear,  &c.,  in  the  masque  of  Cupid,  Bk.  iii,  c  12 ; 
though  Spenser's  whole  poem  contains  no  specific  description  of 
Famine  like  that  in  Lyly's  play.  In  the  Quarterly  Review  for  Jan. 
1896 ',  I  suggested  that  Lyly  might  have  founded  the  latter  on  some 
stanzas  in  Sackville's  Induction  to  The  Mirrour  for  Magistrates^ 
quoted  in  the  notes.  But  the  extracts  firom  Ovid  given  above 
leave  no  doubt  that  he,  and  not  Spenser  nor  Sackville,  was  Lyly's 
true  original  in  this  description.  In  two  points,  however,  Fidelia's 
speech  does  seem  to  me  to  indicate  a  knowledge  of  Spenser's  Third 
Book ;  the  idea,  namely,  not  in  Ovid,  of  Fidelia's  attempted  rape  by 
a  satyr  (cf.  F.  Q.  iii.  c.  10),  and  the  mention  together  (i.  2,  p.  305) 
of  Daphne  and  Myrrha  as  instances  of  flight,  two  cases  hardly  parallel, 
which  Spenser  also  combines  : 

*  Or  peihaps  by  the  allusions  to  them  in  Sannaiairo**  Eclogae  Piscatcriae :  cf. 
below,  p.  395. 

'  For  the  transformation  into  a  tree,  of  whidi  Lyly  has  two  other  instances,  some 
example  was  afforded  by  Gascoigne*s  show  in  the  Princely  Pleasures  of  Kmilworth^ 
J 576  ;  cf.  vol.  ii.  p.  477,  note  5. 

'*  hTXicltfohn  Lyly :  Novelist  and  Dramatist,  p.  133. 


7 

/  — 


294  LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS 

Not  halfe  so  fast  the  wicked  Myrrha  fled 

From  dread  of  her  revenging  Other's  hond ; 

Nor  halfe  so  fast  to  save  her  maydenhed 

Fled  fearfull  Daphne  on  th'  Aegean  strond. 

As  FJorimell  fled,  &c.  F,  Q,  iii.  7.  26. 

Under  this  head  of  sources  should  be  mentioned  the  close  con- 
nexion of  this  play  in  subject  and  treatment  with  the  earlier  pastoral 
J  Gallathea,  Both  celebrate  the  triumph  of  true  love  over  a  false 
ideal  of  chastity  which  declines  and  mocks  at  marriage  \  The  stuff 
of  both  consists  in  great  part  of  the  relations  between  a  presiding 
goddess  (Diana  or  Ceres)  and  her  nymphs,  who  become  subject  to 
the  power  of  Cupid ;  and  there  is  accordingly  the  same  conceited 
dialogue  on  the  subject  of  love  (cf.  Gall.  i.  2,  iv.  2  with  Laves  Met, 
ii.  2,  iv.  i).  If  that  in  the  later  play  shows  as  a  fainter  reflection  of 
the  former,  yet  Nisa's  spirited  exposure  of  poetic  fictions  on  the 
subject  (p.  308)  affords  us  compensation.  In  two  passages  our  play 
actually  alludes  to  Gallathea^  as  has  been  pointed  out  in  the  one 
case  by  Steinhauser,  in  the  other  by  Fleay*.  Then  we  have  the 
same  angry  figure  in  the  background  (Neptune  or  Erisichthon)  to 
serve  as  moving  cause  of  the  action ;  the  same  idea  of  filial  sacrifice 
by  reluctant  parents  and  of  the  evasion  thereof:  the  same  introduc- 
tion of  a  genuine  tragic  note  in  Hsebe  and  Fidelia,  neither  of  whom 
is  dramatically  essential;  the  same  solution  by  a  compromise  be- 
tween rival  deities ;  the  same  general  idea  of  locality,  woods  near 
a  seacoast,  and  especially,  the  same  tree  occupying  a  conspicuous 
position  on  the  stage  and  often  referred  to;  and  even  the  same 
series  of  musical  puns  (cf.  iii.  i.  122-7  with  Gall.  v.  3.  188-93).  ^ut 
the  play  is  far  from  being  a  mere  repetition.  The  attitude  towards 
love  of  Ceres  and  her  nymphs,  respectively,  is  almost  a  reversal  of 
that  of  Diana  and  hers :  and  Cupid  is  no  longer  a  petulant  boy, 
playing  truant,  making  mischief,  caught  and  punished  for  it;  but 
a  great  god  with  a  temple  at  which  Ceres  offers  homage,  and  wielding 
a  dread  power  of  physical  punishment.    Here  too,  if  there  is  no 

'  '  "  Gallathea  "  und  ^  Love*8  Metamorphosis  **  konnen  als  allegorische  Ver- 
herrlichang  des  Sieges  wahrer  liebe  iiber  die  falsche  Keuschheit  bezeichnet 
werden,  welche  aach  die  £he  fiir  verwerflich  halt,  und  deren — wenigstens  ofient- 
liche— Hauptveitreteriii  in  England  Elisabeth  war'  (Steinhaaser,y(t?^/f  Lily  als 
Dramatiker^  P*  3i)* 

'  Act  ii.  sc.  I.  1.  77 :  '  Diana's  N3rmphes  were  as  chast  as  Ceres  viigines,  as 
faire,  as  wise :  how  Cupid  tormented  them,  I  had  rather  you  should  heare  then 
feele;  but  this  is  truth,  they  all  yeelded  to  lone.'  Act  v.  sc  i.  lU  18-9 :  *  Diana 
hath  felt  some  motions  of -loue,  Vesta  doth,  Ceres  shall.' 


LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS  295 

comic  element,  the  by-plot  is  far  better  interwoven  with  the  main 
action,  and  may  boast  a  greater  variety  in  itself. 

Lastly,  just  as  Gallathea  and  the  pastoral  scenes  in  Midas  may 
owe  something  to  Sannazarro's  Arcadia^  so  this  play  may  confess, 
perhaps,  a  hint  or  two  from  his  Eclogae  Piscatoriae^  in  the  introduction 
of  a  Siren  (they  are  associated  with  Sannazarro's  scene,  the  Naples 
coast)  and  consequently  of  Ulysses,  and  in  the  stony-hearted  Nisa's 
transformation ;  e.  g.  cf.  v.  4.  68  and  116  with 

Sirenes,  mea  cura,  audite  haec  ultima  vota. 

Aut  revocet  iam  Nisa  suum,  nee  spernat  lolam, 

Aut  videat  morientem.    Haec  saxa  impulsa  marinis 

Fluctibus,  haec  misero  vilis  dabit  alga  sepulchnim.  (EcL  iii.  50-3.) 

Boccaccio's  Ameto  has,  in  the  story  of  Acrimonia,  faint  suggestions 
of  Lyly's  nymphs  and  their  punishment,  and  of  Protea's  proposed 
voyage.    See  note,  vol.  ii.  pp.  473  sqq. 

Date. — The  date  is  perhaps  harder  to  fix  than  that  of  any  other 
play  of  Lyly.    Could  we  judge  simply  by  the  year  of  its  publication, 
we  should  have  to  regard  it  as  much  the  latest,  written  and  produced 
a  year  or  two  before  November,  1600;  for  it  is  not  entered  on  the 
Stationers'  Register  till  November  25,  1600,  and  not  issued  till  the 
following  year.     But  a  difficulty  occurs  in  the  statement  of  the  Re- 
gister, repeated  on  the  title-page,  that  it  had  been  played  by  the 
Paul's  Boys.    This  company  was  suspended  from  acting,  temporarily 
perhaps  in  the  autumn  of  1589  (see  note  on  Pappe,  ad  med.),  but  per- 
manently before  October  4, 1591,  when  three  of  its  plays  are  entered 
for  publication  :  and  Collier  considers  the  suspension  to  have  lasted 
till  about  1600 \    The  title-page  says  it  was  'first  playd  by  the 
Children  of  Paules,  and  now  [i.e.  1601]  by  the  Children  of  the 
Chappell.'     The  latter  company  were  under  inhibition  probably 
from  1583  till  1597,  when  a  new  writ  was  issued  to  Nathaniel  Giles, 
their  master,  to  take  up  boys  for  the  chapel  service,  which  must  be 
understood  as  including  the  removal  of  the  prohibition  on  their 
acting '.    There  seem,  then,  prima  facie  grounds  for  supposing  that 

'  History  of  Dramatic  Poetry^  L  37a. 

^  The  wording  of  these  writs  to  choir-masters  nowhere  contemplates  a  dramatic 
function  for  the  boys  so  *■  taken  np ' ;  but  from  the  very  interesting  petition,  pub- 
lished in  the  Athenaeum  for  Aug.  10, 1889,  by  Mr.  James  Greenstreet  and  printed 
by  Mr.  Fleay,  it  seems  clear  that  the  Queen  winked  at  the  practice  of  so  employing 
them.  See  Fleay*s  History  of  the  Stage^  pp.  126  sqq.,  where  Giles,  Robinson,  and 
Evans,  against  whose  proceedings  the  petition  protests,  are  stated  to  have  said 
that  '  yf  the  Qneene  . . .  would  not  beare  them  furth  in  that  accion  [of  practically 
kidnapping  boys,  who  were  not  musical,  simply  to  turn  them  into  actors],  she 


296  LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS 

the  Paul's  Boys  first  produced  the  play  before  1591,  and  that  the 
Chapel  Children  after  the  removal  of  their  inhibition  revived  it  in 
1 598-1600.  True,  the  Stationers*  Register  (November  25,  1600) 
only  names  the  Paul's  Boys  in  connexion  with  it;  and  as  there 
seems  no  good  reason  why  these  should  not  have  recommenced 
acting  as  early  as  1599 — the  printing  of  The  Maydes  Metamorphosis 
in  1600  'as  it  hath  bene  sundrie  times  Acted  by  the  Children  of 
Powles'  favours  the  idea — they  may  have  played  it  in  1599  or  early 
in  1600,  before  transferring  it  to  the  Chapel  Children  ^  But  strong 
arguments  for  a  much  earlier  date  exist  in  the  markedly  euphuistic 
character  of  the  dialogue,  far  more  noticeable  than  in  Midas  or 
Mother  Bombie ;  in  a  reference  to  *  Ceres  and  her  sacred  Nymphes ' 
in  The  Woman^  iii.  i.  50,  which  was  entered  for  publication  in 
1595  ;  and  in  the  general  connexion  of  subject  and  treatment  which 
unites  the  three  plays  Sapho  and  Phao^  Gallathea^  and  Loves  Meta- 
morphosis^ in  all  of  which  Cupid  plays  a  prominent  part,  while  there 
are  references  in  Gallathea  to  Sapho,  and  in  Loves  Metamorphosis 
to  Gallathea,  Mr.  Baker'  even  considers  this  connexion  ground 
for  placing  the  composition  of  the  play  before  1584,  i.e.  before  the 
earlier  inhibition  of  the  Paul's  Boys,  though  he  doubts  if  it  was  acted 
then.  But  there  seems  no  cogent  reason  why  plays  connected  in 
subject  or  treatment  should  be  written  in  immediate  succession : 
and  though  the  points  of  connexion  enumerated  under  '  Sources ' 
prove  it  subsequent  to  Gallathea^  the  very  number  and  close  re- 
semblance of  these  points,  especially  the  series  of  musical  pun<;, 
make  against  its  immediate  succession;  for  Lyly,  of  all  authors, 
would  shun  the  charge  of  poverty  of  invention.  Mr.  Fleay's  opinion, 
that  it  was  acted  at  Court  by  the  Paul's  Boys  *  no  doubt  in  1588-9  ^' 
escapes  this  objection ;  and  might  find  a  vague  support  in  the  record 
in  the  Council  Registers,  quoted  by  Chalmers  *,  of  a  payment  on 
March  23,  1588-9,  of  ^30  to  Thomas  Giles,  master  of  the  Paul's 
Boys,  'for  sundry  plays  in  the  Christmas  holydays.'  Mr.  Fleay 
further  considers  that  it  was  revived  by  the  Chapel  Children  circ, 
1529  before  the  Paul's  Boys  recommenced. 
I  believe  we  may  accept,  roughly,  Mr.  Fleay's  dates.    But  I  find 

tbould  gett  another  to  execute  her  commission  for  them '  (p.  130) ;  and  '  were  yt 
not  for  the  benefitt  they  made  by  the  sayd  play  bowse  [Blackfnars],  whoe  would 
ibonld  lerre  the  Chappell  w^  dulderen  for  them*  (p.  131). 
^  See  voL  i,  life,  pp.  72-4. 

*  Introdoction  to  bu  edition  of  £ndymmt,  p.  xcriii. 
'  Bi^raphical  ChronicUf  ii.  41. 

*  fioiweU*t  MaUm^s  Skakespeartj  iii.  435. 


LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS  297 

strong  reason  for  supposing  that  the  play  as  revived,  whether  by  the 
Paul's  or  Chapel  Children,  was  an  alteration  from  that  onginally 
produced,  (i)  Firstly,  it  is  remarkable  for  its  brevity,  caused  by  the 
absence  of  the  farcical  element  found  in  all  the  other  plays.  It  is 
quite  possible  that  such  element  existed  in  the  earlier  form,  and  that 
it  contained  some  matter,  perhaps  of  Anti-Martinist  tendency,  which 
was  sufficient  to  prevent  the  play  obtaining  its  licence  for  printing 
along  with  Endimion;  Gallathea^  and  Midas  in  1591,  but  which  was 
excised  before  its  revival.  Compare,  too,  the  *thicke  mist*  of  iv.  i. 
109  (see  note  ad  loc.) ;  also  Tirtena  in  v.  i,  p.  324.  (2)  Secondly, 
it  is  unlikely  that  the  last  twelve  years  of  Lyly's  life  (ob.  1606) 
should  have  been  quite  unoccupied  with  dramatic  work^;  and  it 
exhibits  an  improved  skill  in  dramatic  construction — it  is  better 
woven  than  any  except  Mot?ur  Bombie^  and  of  more  varied  interest 
than  any — and  a  more  evident  effort  to  give  characteristic  distinction 
to  the  individual  members  of  the  groups  of  nymphs  and  foresters 
than  is  noticeable  in  earlier  work,  (3)  Thirdly,  there  are  the  points 
of  connexion  with  the  Faerie  Queene  (Bk.  iii,  published  1590)  which 
I  have  noted  under  '  Sources.'  (4)  Fourthly,  I  would  suggest  the 
possibility  of  allegorical  allusion  in  Erisichthon  to  Elizabeth's  rela- 
tions with  her  favourite  Essex.  That  the  Queen  is  represented  in 
the  person  of  Ceres  has  been  generally  allowed.  Her  attitude 
towards  love  is  here  largely  modified  from  that  of  Diana  in  Gallathea ; 
but  even  here  we  get  a  reflection  of  the  old  jealousy  of  marriage 
without  her  consent  in  v.  4.  1 2 — *  You  might  haue  made  me  a  coun- 
sell  of  your  loues,'  and  20-2,  which  probably  allude  to  Southampton's 
stolen  match  with  Elizabeth  Vernon,  her  maid  of  honour,  in  1598. 
The  Queen's  displeasure  was  enhanced  by  Essex's  appointment  of 
Southampton  to  be  General  of  the  Horse  in  Ireland  in  1599;  and 
X  think  it  very  possible  that  in  Erisichthon,  so  ungrateful  for  the 
bounty  Ceres  has  showered  upon  him,  we  have  allusion  to  Essex  him- 
self, and  his  presumptuous  attitude  towards  the  Queen  in  1598, 1599, 
and  1600  *.  (s)  Lastly,  revival  of  Loves  Metamorphosis  in  a  revised 
form,  and  especially  without  a  previously  existing  farcical  element, 
would  be  consistent  with  an  allusion  in  the  Induction  to  Jonson's 
Cynthia^ s  Revels^  produced  by  the  Chapel  Children  in  the  same  year 

'  I  find,  later,  that  there  was  probably  some  masque-work  within  this  period. 

'  Compare,  especially,  Elizabeth's  saying,  in  regard  to  the  monopoly  of  sweet 
wbes  for  which  Essex  in  1600  sought  a  renewal,  that  *an  ungovernable  Beast 
must  be  stinted  in  his  provender,  that  he  may  be  the  better  maniag'd '  (Camden's 
Annals  of  Eliz.  1600,  in  the  fol.  Hist,  of  Eng.  ii.  p.  626). 


298  LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS 

— *  the  umbrae  or  ghosts  of  some  three  or  four  plays  departed  a  dozen 
years  since,  have  been  seen  walking  on  your  stage  here/  &c. 

I  consider,  then,  that  an  earlier  form  of  the  play  was  produced  by 
the  Paul's  Boys  in  1586-8 ;  that  it  was  revived  by  them  in  its  present 
form  in  1599  or  early  in  1600,  and  transferred  to  the  Chapel  Children 
before  the  year  was  far  advanced. 

Place  and  Time. — The  number  of  scenes  cannot  be  reduced 
below  three:  i.  At  Ceres*  Tree.  2.  Before  Cupid's  Temple.  3. 
Seashore  near  Erisichthon's  Farm.  The  distinction  between  these 
is  shown  in  iv.  i,  p.  320,  where  the  foresters,  in  front  of  Cupid's 
Temple,  discuss  whether  they  shall  go  to  look  for  the  nymphs  at 
Ceres'  Tree,  or  visit  Erisichthon ;  and  again  in  v.  i,  p.  325,  where 
Ceres  leaves  Cupid's  Temple  to  fetch  Erisichthon.  This  distinction 
of  the  localities  involves  one  imaginary  transfer  in  the  middle  of 
Act  ii— a  single  scene,  at  the  commencement  of  which  Ceres  is 
lamenting  over  her  fallen  tree,  but  proposes,  p.  307,  to  visit  Cupid's 
Temple,  and  after  some  talk,  during  which  they  are  supposed  to  be 
proceeding  thither,  remarks  p.  308  '  This  is  the  temple.'  Compare, 
too,  iii.  1. 150-7  *  Here  is  the  tree.'  Several  similar  transfers  occurred 
in  Campaspe  (see  Place  and  Time  in  the  introduction  to  that  play),  one 
in  Endimion,  Act  iv.  3,  pp.  60-1,  and  one  in  TTie  Womatty  Act  iv. 

As  regards  Time,  the  action  of  the  play  requires  at  least  several 
days  to  allow  for  the  operation  of  famine  on  Erisichthon,  the  sale 
of  his  goods,  p.  315,  the  appointment  of  'day'  and  *hower'  with 
the  Merchant,  p.  316,  Petulius'  aid  mentioned  iv.  2.  37,  and  the 
revenge  of  the  foresters  on  the  nymphs.  The  intervals  should  be 
arranged  to  fall  between  the  Acts,  and  some  time  may  consistently 
be  supposed  to  elapse  between  Acts  i  and  ii,  and  Acts  ii  and  iii :  yet 
though  the  adventure  of  Protea  with  the  Merchant,  and  the  infliction 
and  repentance  of  their  revenge  by  the  foresters,  require  some  time, 
the  last  three  Acts  are  represented  as  continuous — Acts  iii  and  iv 
being  connected  by  the  visit  to  Cupid  announced  iii.  i,  and  carried 
out  in  iv.  I,  while  Acts  iv  and  v  are  placed  in  close  connexion  by 
the  *straunge  discourse'  of  Protea,  begun  iv.  2.  100,  and  just  con- 
cluded V.  2,  p.  325.  So  that  in  this,  as  in  preceding  plays,  especially 
Midas,  there  is  visible  an  attempt  at  close  continuity  of  action 
irreconcileable  with  the  lapse  of  time  which  the  plot  requires,  a  cir- 
cumstance which,  when  contrasted  with  the  greater  care  exercised  in 
Mother  Bambie  and  The  Woman,  constitutes  yet  another  argument 
for  an  early  date. 


LONDON 

PriMtJforWiUiimWi)cid,((«cmiigatrricWtnciii!of 
Pavllcs,anht(i£iicot'Tt!nc.     I  c  0  1, 


(DRAMATIS  PERSONiE. 

Cupid. 

Ramis,         \      Foresters      (Nisa, 

MoNTANUS,  I    in  Uwe,  re-    I  Celia. 

SiLxnsSTRis,  )  spectioelyy  with  \Niobe, 

Erisichthon,  a  churlish  Husbandman,  5 

Petulius,  in  lave  with  Frotea. 

Merchant. 

Ceres. 

NiSA,  ^ 

Celia, 

NiOBE, 
TiRTENA, 

Fidelia,  a  Nymph  of  Ceres  transformed  into  a  Tree. 
Protea,  Daughter  to  Erisichthon, 

Siren.  15 

Scene — Arcadia. ) 

Dram.  Pers.]  list  sufplieJ  by  F.,  whcm  I  follow  with  but  trifling  change 
ScKNE— Arcadia]  suppl,  F. 


Nymphs  of  Ceres. 


LOUES    METAMORPHOSIS 

(ACTUS   PRIMUS. 

SCiENA  Prima.— ^/  Cere^  Tree.) 
(^Enter)  Ramis,  Montanus,  Siluestris. 


(^Ramis.)  T   Cannot  sec,  Montanus^  why  it  is  fain'd  by  the  Poets, 
X     that  Loue  sat  vpon  the  Chaos  and  created  the  world ; 
since  in  the  world  there  is  so  little  loue. 

Mon,  Ramis^  thou  canst  not  see  that  which  cannot  with  reason 

5  l>e  imagined ;  for  if  the  diuine  vertues  of  Loue  had  disperst  them- 

selues  through  the  powers  of  the  world  so  forcibly  as  to  make  them 

take  by  his  influence  the  formes  and  qualities  imprest  within  them, 

no  doubt  they  could  not  chuse  but  sauour  more  of  his  Diuinitie. 

5/7.   I  doe  not  thinke  Loue  hath  any  sparke  of  Diuinitie  in  him ; 

10  since  the  end  of  his  being  is  earthly.     In  the  bloud  he  is  begot  by 

the  fraile  fires  of  the  eye,  &  quencht  by  the  frayler  shadowes  of 

thought.     What  reason  haue  we  then  to  soothe  his  humor  with  such 

zeale,  and  folow  his  fading  delights  with  such  passion  ? 

Ramis,  We  haue  bodies,  StVuesfrts^  and  humane  bodies;  which 

15  in  their  owne  natiu^es  being  much  more  wretched  then  beastes,  doe 

much  more  miserably  then  beasts  pursue  their  owne  ruines:  And 

since  it  will  aske  longer  labour  and  studie  to  subdue  the  powers 

of  our  bloud  to  the  rule  of  the  soule,  then  to  satisfie  them  with  the 

fruition  of  our  loues,  let  vs  bee  constant  in  the  worlds  errours,  and 

20  seeke  our  owne  torments. 

Mon.  As  good  yeeld  indeed  submissiuely,  and  satisfie  part  of  our 
affections;  as  bee  stubbume  without  abilitie  to  resist,  and  enioy 
none  of  them.  I  am  in  worst  plight,  since  I  loue  a  Nymph  that 
mockes  loue. 

,  s.  D.  Act  I.  Scene  I.  supplied  F,  The  division  into  Acts  and  Scenes  is  that  of 
the  quarto  and  F,  The  localities  of  the  several  scenes  are  first  marked  in  this 
edition  I  [Ramis]  supplied  F. 


302  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [acti 

"^  Ramis,  And  I  one  that  hates  loue.  ^5 

SiL   I,  one  that  thinkes  her  selfe  aboue  loue. 

Ratnis,  Let  vs  not  dispute  whose  mistris  is  most  bad,  since  they 
be  all  cruell ;  nor  which  of  our  fortunes  be  most  froward,  since  they 
bee  all  desperate.  I  will  hang  my  Skutchin  on  this  tree  in  honour 
of  CereSy  and  write  this  verse  on  the  tree  in  hope  of  my  successe.  30 
Penelopen  ipsam  perstes  modo  tempore  vinces,  Penelope  will  yeeld  at 
last :  continue  and  conquer. 

Mon,  I  this :  Fructus  ahest  fades  cum  bona  teste  caret.  Faire  faces 
lose  their  fauours,  if  they  admit  no  fouers. 

Ramis,   But  why  studiest  thou  ?  What  wilt  thou  write  for  thy  Lady  35 
to  read  ? 

SiL  That  which  necessitie  maketh  me  to  indure,  loue  reuerence, 
wisdome  wonder  at    Riualem  patienter  habe, 

Mon.  Come,  let  vs  euerie  one  to  our  walkes,  it  may  be  we  shall 
meete  them  walking.  Exeunt,  40 

ScENA  Secvnda. — {The  same.") 

NiSA,  Celia,  Niobe,  Fidelia,  Erisicthon. 

{Enter  Nisa,  Celia,  Niobe.) 

Nisa.  It  is  time  to  hang  vp  our  Garlands,  this  is  our  haruest 
holyday,  wee  must  both  sing  and  daunce  in  the  honour  of  Ceres  :■ 
of  what  colours  or  flowers  is  thine  made  of,  Niobe  f 

Niobe.   Of  Salamints,  which   in  the  morning  are  white,  red  at 
noone,  and  in  the  Euening  purple,  for  in  my  aflections  shall  there  5 
be  no  staiednesse  but  in  vnstaiednes :  but  what  is  yours  of,  Nisa  f 

Nisa.  Of  Hollie,  because  it  is  most  holy,  which  louely  greene 
neither  the  Sunnes  beames,  nor  the  winds  blasts  can  alter  or  dimi- 
nish.    But,  Ce/ia^  what  Garland  haue  you  ? 

Ce/ia.   Mine  all  of  Cypres  leaues,  which  are  broadest  and  beauti-  10 
fullest,  yet  beareth  the  least  fruit ;  for  beautie  maketh  the  brightest 
shew,  being  the  slightest  substance;   and  I  am  content  to  wither 
before  I  bee  worne,  and  depriue  my  selfe  of  that  which  so  many 
desire. 

Niobe.  Come,  let  vs  make  an  end,  lest  Ceres  come  and  find  vs  15 
slacke  in  performing  that  which  wee  owe.   But  soft,  some  haue  beene 
here  this  Morning  before  vs. 

31  pentes/i//.  fy  comma  Q  F^ 


$c.ii]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  303 

Nisa.  The  amorous  Foresters,  or  none;  for  in  the  woods  they 
haue  eaten  so  much  wake-Robin,  that  they  cannot  sleepe  for  loue, 
20      Celia.   Alas  poore  soules,  how  ill  loue  sounds  in  their  lips,  who 
telling  a  long  tale  of  hunting,  thinke  they  haue  bewray'd  a  sad 
passion  of  loue ! 

Niobt,  Giue  them  leaue  to  loue,  since  we  haue  libertie  to  chuse, 
for  as  great  sport  doe  I  take  in  coursing  their  tame  hearts,  as  they 
35  doe  paines  in  hunting  their  wilde  Harts. 

Celia.  Niobe^  your  affection  is  but  pinned  to  your  tongue,  which 
when  you  list  you  can  vnloose.     But  let  vs  read  what  they  haue 
written :  Penehpen  ipsam  perstes  modo  tempore  vinces.     That  is  for 
you  Nisa^  whome  nothing  will  mooue,  yet  hope  makes  him  houer. 
30      Nisa.  A  fond  Hobbie  to  houer  ouer  an  E^le. 

Niobe,   But  Forresters  thinke  all  Birds  to  be  Buntings.    What's 
the  next?    Fructus  (zbest  fades  cum  bona  teste  caret.     Celiac  the 
Forrester  giues  you  good  counsel,  take  your  penniworth  whiles  the 
xnarket  semes. 
35      Celia.  I  hope  it  will  be  market  day  till  my  deathes  day, 

•  Nisa,  Let  me  read  to.  Riuakm  patienter  habe,  Hee  toucheth 
you,  Niobe,  on  the  quicke,  yet  you  see  how  patient  he  is  in  your 
inconstancie. 

Niobe,   Inconstancie  is  a  vice,  which  I  will  not  swap  for  all  the 

40  vertues ;  though  I  throwe  one  off  with  my  whole  hand,  I  can  pull 

him  againe  with  my  little  finger ;  let  vs  encourage  them,  and  write 

something;  if  they  censure  it  fauourably,  we  know  them  fooles; 

if  angerly,  we  wil  say  they  are  froward. 

Nisa.   I  will  begin.     Cedit  amor  rebuSy  res  age,  tutus  eris. 
4S      Celia.   Indeed  better  to  tell  stars  then  be  idle,  yet  better  idle  then 
ill  employed.     Mine  this :  Sat  mihi  si  fades,  sit  bene  nota  mihi. 
Niobe.  You  care  for  nothing  but  a  Glasse,  that  is,  a  flatterer. 
Nisa.   Then  all  men  are  Glasses. 
Celia.    Some  Glasses  are  true. 
50      Niobe.    No  men  are ;   but  this  is  mine :   Victoria  tecum  stabit. 
Nisa.   Thou  giuest  hope. 
Niobe.    He  is  worthy  of  it,  that  is  patient. 

Celia.    Let  vs  sing,  and  so  attend  on  Ceres  ;  for  this  day,  although 

into  her  heart  neuer  entred  any  motion  of  loue,  yet  vsually  to  the 

55  Temple  of  Cupid,  shee  offereth  two  white  Doues,  as  entreating  his 

38  inconstancie]  constancie  Q  F. 


304  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  i 

fauour,  and  one  Eagle,   as  commaunding  his  power.     PrcKtbusi^ 
minas  regaliter  addet,  Cantant  6*  Saltant 

{Enter  Erisichthon.) 

Eris,  What  noyse  is  this,  what  assembly,  what  Idolatrie  ?  Is  the 
modestie  of  virgins  turnd  to  wantonnesse  ?  The  honour  of  Ceres 
accompted  immortal  ?  And  Erisicthon  ruler  of  this  Forrest,  esteemed  60 
of  no  force  ?  Impudent  giglots  that  you  are,  to  disturbe  my  game, 
or  dare  doe  honour  to  any  but  Erisicthon,  It  is  not  your  faire  faces 
as  smooth  as  leate,  nor  your  entysing  eyes,  though  they  drew  yron 
like  Adamants,  nor  your  filed  speeches,  were  they  as  forcible  as 
ThessaiideSf  that  shall  make  me  any  way  flexible.  65 

Niobe.  Erisicthon^  thy  sterne  lookes  ioynd  with  thy  stout  speeches, 
thy  words  as  vnkembd  as  thy  lockes,  were  able  to  affright  men  of 
bold  courage,  and  to  make  vs  silly  girles  franticke,  that  are  full  of 
feare ;  but  knowe  thou,  Erisicthon^  that  were  thy  hands  so  vnstaied 
as  thy  tongue,  and  th'  one  as  ready  to  execute  mischiefe  as  the  other  10 
to  threaten  it,  it  should  neither  moue  our  hearts  to  aske  pittie,  or 
remooue  our  bodies  from  this  place;  wee  are  the  handmaides 
diuine  Ceres ;  to  faire  Ceres  is  this  holy  tree  dedicated,  to  Ceres ^  by 
whose  fauour  thy  selfe  liuest,  that  art  worthy  to  perish. 

Eris.  Are  you  addicted  to  Ceres^  that  in  spight  of  Erisicthon  you  75 
wil  vse  these  sacrifices?  No,  immodest  girles,  you  shal  see  that 
I  haue  neither  regard  of  your  sexe  which  men  should  tender,  nor  of 
your  beautie  which  foolish  loue  would  dote  on,  nor  of  your  goddesse, 
which  none  but  pieuish  girles  reuerence.  I  will  destroy  this  tree  in 
despite  of  all,  and  that  you  may  see  my  hand  execute  what  my  heart  80 
intendeth,  and  that  no  meane  may  appease  my  malice,  my  last 
word  shall  bee  the  beginning  of  the  first  blowe. 

(^Smites  the  trunk  with  his  axe.) 

Celia,   Out,  alas !  what  hath  he  done  ? 

Niobe,  Our  selues,   I   feare,   must  also  minister  matter  to  his 
furie.  85 

Nisa.   Let  him  alone :  but  see,  the  tree  powreth  out  bloud,  and 
I  heare  a  voice. 

Eris,   What  voice?  if  in  the  tree  there  be  any  bodie,  speake 
quickly,  lest  the  next  blow  hit  the  tale  out  of  thy  mouth. 

Inde,  {from  the  trunk).  Monster  of  men,  hate  of  the  heauens,  and  90 

57  addct  so  QF.,as  Lyly  may  have  written  60  immortal  ?]  F,  queries 

immoral?  65  Thesssdides  Q  F, :  query  ^Messalinas  88  anybodies  F, 


sc.li]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  305 

to  the  earth  a  burthen,  what  hath  chasi  Fidelia  committed?  It  is 
thy  spite,  Cupid^  that  hauing  no  power  to  wound  my  vnspotted 
mind,  procurest  meanes  to  mangle  my  tender  body,  and  by  violfice 
to  gash  those  sides  that  enclose  a  heart  dedicate  to  vertue :  or  is  it 

95  that  sauage  Satire,  that  feeding  his  sensuall  appetite  vpon  lust, 
seeketh  now  to  quench  it  with  bloud^  that  being  without  hope  to 
attaine  my  loue,  hee  may  with  cruelty  end  my  life  ?  Or  doth  Certt, 
whose  nymph  I  haue  beene  many  yeares,  in  recompence  of  my 
inuiolable  faith,  reward  me  with  vnspeakable  torments?     Diuine 

100  Phoehus^  that  pursued  Daphne  till  shee  was  turned  to  a  Bay  tree, 
ceased  then  to  trouble  her ;  I,  the  *gods  are  pittifuU :  and  Ciwyras^ 
that  with  furie  followed  his  daughter  Mirrha^  till  shee  was  chaunged 
to  a  Mirre  tree,  left  then  to  prosecute  her ;  yea,  parents  are  naturall : 
Phabus  lamented  the  losse  of  his  friend,  Cinyras  of  his  child :  but 

105  both  gods  and  men  either  forgot  or  neglect  the  chaunge  of  Fidelia; 
nay,  follow  her  after  her  chaunge,  to  make  her  more  miserable :  so 
that  there  is  nothing  more  hatefull  then  to  be  chast,  whose  bodies 
are  followed  in  the  world  with  lust,  and  prosecuted  in  the  graues 
with  tyrannie;   whose  minds  the  freer  they  are  from  vice,  their 

1 10  bodies  are  in  the  more  daunger  of  mischiefe ;  so  that  they  are  not 
safe  when  they  liue,  because  of  mens  loue;  nor  being  chaunged, 
because  of  their  hates ;  nor  being  dead,  because  of  their  defaming, 
^hat  is  that  chastitie  which  so  few  women  study  to  keep,  and  both 
gods  and  men  seeke  to  violate  ?    If  onely  a  naked  name,  why  are 

115  we  so  superstitious  of  a  hollow  sound?  If  a  rare  vertue,  why  are 
men  so  carelesse  of  such  an  exceeding  rarenesse  ?  Goe,  Ladies,  tell 
Ceres  I  am  that  Fidelia^  that  so  long  knit  Garlands  in  her  honour, 
and  chased  with  a  Satyre,  by  praier  to  the  gods,  became  turned  to 
a  tree,  whose  body  now  is  growne  ouer  with  a  rough  barke,  and 

lao  whose  golden  lockes  are  couered  with  greene  leaues ;  yet  whose  mind 
nothing  can  alter,  neither  the  feare  of  death,  nor  the  torments.     If 
Ceres  seeke  no  reuenge,  then  let  virginitie  be  not  only  the  scome , 
of  Sauage  people,  but  the  spoyle.    But  alas,  I  feele  my  last  bloud 
to  come,  &  therfore  must  end  my  last  breath.     Farewel  Ladies, 

125  whose  Hues  are  subiect  to  many  mischieues;  for  if  you  be  faire,  it 
is  hard  to  be  chast ;  if  chast,  impossible  to  be  safe ;  if  you  be  young, 
you  will  quickly  bend ;  if  bend,  you  are  suddenly  broken.  If  you 
be  foule,  you  shall  seldome  be  flattered ;  if  you  be  not  flattered,  you 

95  Satire  F, :  satire  Q  loi,  104  Cineras  Q  F,  loa  Mirrha]  Miretia 

QF.  115  veiturc/'. 

BOND  ni  X 


30$  IX)UES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  i,  sc.  ii 

will  euer  bee  sorrowfull.    Beautie  is  a  firme  ficklenes,  youth  a  feeble 
^staiednesse,  deformitie  a  continuall  sadnesse.  {Dies,)  130 

Niobe.  Thou  monster,  canst  thou  heare  this  without  griefe  ? 

Eris.   Yea,  and  double  your  griefes  with  my  blowes. 
{He  proceeds  to  fell  the  tree  to  the  ground,) 

Nisa.  Ah  poore  Fidelia^  the  expresse  patteme  of  chastitie,  and 
example  of  misfortune. 

Celia.   Ah,  cruel  Erisicthon,  that  not  onely  defaceth  these  holy  135 
trees,  but  murtherest  also  this  chast  nimph. 

Eris,  Nimph,  or  goddesse,  it  skilleth  not,  for  there  is  none  that 
Erisicthon  careth  for,  but  Erisidhen :  let  Ceres^  the  Lady  of  your 
haruest,  reuenge  when  shee  will,  nay,  when  shee  dares  !  and  tell  her 
this,  that  I  am  Erisicthon,  Mo 

Niobe.   Thou  art  none  of  the  gods. 

Eris,   No,  a  contemner  of  the  gods. 

Nisa,  And  hopest  thou  to  escape  reuenge,  being  but  a  man  ? 

Eris,   Yea,  I  care  not  for  reuenge,  beeing  a  man  and  Erisicthon, 

Nisa,   Come,  let  vs  to  Ceres^  and  complaine  of  this  vnacquainted  M5 
and  incredible  villaine :  if  there  bee  power  in  her  deitie,  in  her  mind 
pittie,  or  vertue  in  virginitie,  this  monster  cannot  escape.       Exeunt. 

ACTVS  SECVNDVS. 

ScENA  Prima. — {At  Ceres'  Tree^  with  transfer  to  Cupid's 

Temple,  11.  39-80.) 

Ceres,  Niobe,  Nisa,  Cupid,  Tirtena. 

{Enter  C^YCE^,  Niobe,  Nisa,  and  Tirtena.) 

Ceres,  Doth  Erisicthon  offer  force  to  my  Nymphs,  and  to  my 
deitie  disgrace?  Haue  I  stuffed  his  barnes  with  fruitfull  graine,  and 
doth  hee  stretch  his  hand  against  me  with  intolerable  pride  ?  So  it 
is,  Ceres,  thine  eyes  may  witnesse  what  thy  Nymphes  haue  told ; 
heere  lyeth  the  tree  hackt  in  peeces,  and  the  bloud  scarce  cold  of  5 
the  fairest  vii^ne.  If  this  bee  thy  crueltie,  Cupid,  I  will  no  more 
hallow  thy  temple  with  sacred  vowes :  if  thy  cankred  nature, 
Erisicthon,  thou  shalt  find  as  great  miserie,  as  thou  shewest 
malice :  I  am  resolued  of  thy  punishment,  and  as  speedie  shall  bee 
my  reuenge,  as  thy  rigour  barbarous.      Tirtena,  on  yonder  hill  10 

10  Tirtense  Q 


ACT  II,  sc.  i]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  307 

where  neuer  grew  graine  nor  leafe,  where  nothing  is  but  barren- 
nesse  and  coldnesse,  feare  and  palenesse,  lyeth  famine ;  goe  to  her, 
and  say  that  Ceres  commaundeth  her  to  gnaw  on  the  bowels  of 
Erisicthon^  that  his  hunger  may  bee  as  vnquenchable  as  his  furie. 
15      Tir.    I  obey ;  but  how  should  I  know  her  from  others  ? 

Ceres^  Thou  canst  not  misse  of  her,  if  thou  remember  but  her 
name ;  and  that  canst  thou  not  forget,  for  that  comming  neere  to  the* 
place,  thou  shalt  find  gnawing  in  thy  stomacke.    Shee  lyeth  gaping, 
and  swalloweth  nought  but  a3n:e ;  her  face  pale,  and  so  leane,  that 
30  as  easily  thou  maiest  through  the  verie  skinne  behold  the  bone,  as  in 
a  glasse  thy  shadow ;  her  haire  long,  blacke  and  shaggie ;  her  eyes 
sunke  so  fisure  into  her  head,  that  shee  looketh  out  of  the  nape  of 
her  necke ;  her  lips  white  and  rough ;  her  teeth  hollow  and  red  with 
rustinesse;  her  skin  so  thin,  that  thou  maiest  as  liuely  make  an 
^5  Anatomic  of  her  body,  as  shee  were  cut  vp  with  Chirurgi6s ;  her 
maw  like  a  drie  bladder,  her  heart  swolne  bigge  with  wind,  and  all 
her  bowels  like  Snakes  working  in  her  body.    This  monster  when 
thou  shalt  behold,  tell  her  my  mind,  and  retume  with  speed. 
Tir.   I  goe,  fearing  more  the  sight  of  famine,  then  the  force. 
3®      Ceres.  Take  thou  these  few  eares  of  come,  but  let  not  famine  so 
much  as  smell  to  them  \  and  let  her  goe  aloofe  from  thee.     (^Exii 
TiRTENA.)     Now  shall  Erisicthon  see  that  Ceres  is  a  great  goddesse, 
as  full  of  power  as  himselfe  of  pride,  and  as  pittilesse  as  he  pre- 
sumptuous :  how  thinke  you  Ladies,  is  not  this  reuenge  apt  for  so 
35  great  iniurie  ? 

Niabe.  Yes  Madam :  To  let  men  see,  they  that  contend  with  the 
gods  doe  but  confound  themselues. 

Ceres.  But  let  vs  to  the  Temple  of  Cupid  and  offer  sacrifice ;  they 
that  thinke  it  straunge  for  chastitie  to  humble  it  selfe  to  Cupid^ 
40  knowe  neither  the  power  of  loue,  nor  the  nature  of  virginitie :  th' 
one  hauing  absolute  authoritie  to  commaund,  the  other  difficultie  to 
resist :  and  where  such  continuall  warre  is  betweene  loue  and  vertue, 
there  must  bee  some  parlies,  and  continuall  perils :  Cupid  was  neuer 
conquered,  and  therefore  must  be  flattered;  Virginitie  hath,  and 
45  therefore  must  be  humble. 

Nisa.    Into  my  heart,  Madam,  there  did  neuer  enter  any  motion 
of  loue. 

Ceres.  Those  that  often  say,  they  cannot  loue,  or  will  not  loue, 
certainely  they  loue.     Didst  thou  neuer  see  Cupid  f 
50     Nisa,  No :  but  I  haue  heard  him  described  at  the  full,  and,  as 

X  2 


3o8  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  ii 

I  imagined,  foolishly.  First,  that  he  should  bee  a  god  blind  and 
naked,  with  wings,  with  bowe,  with  arrowes,  with  fire-brands ;  swim- 
ming sometimes  in  the  Sea,  &  playing  sometimes  on  the  shore ;  with 
many  other  deuices,  which  the  Painters,  being  the  Poets  Apes,  haue 
taken  as  great  paines  to  shaddow,  as  they  to  lie.  Can  I  thinke  that  55 
gods  that  commaund  all  things,  would  goe  naked  ?  What  should  he 
doe  with  wings  that  knowes  not  where  to  flie?  Or  what  with 
arrowes,  that  sees  not  how  to  ayme  ?  The  heart  is  a  narrow  marke 
to  hit,  and  rather  requireth  Argus  eyes  to  take  leuel,  then  a  blind 
boy  to  shoote  at  randome.  If  he  were  fire,  the  Sea  would  quench  60 
those  coles,  or  the  flame  tume  him  into  cinders. 

Ceres.  Well  Nisn^  thou  shalt  see  him. 

Ntsa,  I  feare  Niobe  hath  felt  him. 

Niobe.  Not  I,  Madam,  yet  must  I  confesse,  that  oftentimes 
I  haue  had  sweete  thoughts,  sometimes  hard  conceites ;  betwixt  65 
both,  a  kind  of  yeelding ;  I  know  not  what  But  certainely  I  thinke 
it  is  not  loue:  sigh  I  can,  and  find  ease  in  melanchoUy;  smile 
I  doe,  and  take  pleasure  in  imagination;  I  feele  in  my  selfe 
a  pleasing  paine,  a  chill  heate,  a  delicate  bitternesse,  how  to 
terme  it  I  know  not ;  without  doubt  it  may  be  loue,  sure  I  am  70 
it  is  not  hate. 

Nisa.  Niobe  is  tender  hearted,  whose  thoughts  are  like  water, 
yeelding  to  euerie  thing,  and  nothing  to  bee  scene. 

Ceres.  Well,  let  vs  to  Cupid;  and  take  heede  that  in  your  stuh- 
bemesse  you  offend  him  not,  whome  by  entreaties  you  ought  to  75 
follow.  Dianas  Nymphes  were  as  chast  as  Ceres  virgines,  as  faire, 
as  wise :  how  Cupid  tormented  them,  I  had  rather  you  should  heare 
then  feele;  but  this  is  truth,  they  all  yeelded  to  loue:  looke  not 
scomefully,  my  Nymphes,  I  say  they  are  yeelded  to  loue.  This 
is  the  temple.  (^The  temple-doors  open.)  Thou  great  god  Cupid^  80 
whome  the  gods  regard,  and  men  reuerence,  let  it  bee  lawfull  for 
Ceres  to  offer  her  sacrifice. 

Cupid.   Diuine  Ceres^  Cupid  accepteth  any  thing  that  cometh 
from   Certs :   which  feedeth  my  Sparrowes  with  ripe  come,   my 
Pigeons  with  wholsome  seedes ;  and  honourest  my  Temple  with  85 
chast  virgines. 

Ceres.  Then,  Loue,  to  thee  I  bring  these  white  and  spotlesse 
Doues,  in  token  that  my  heart  is  as  free  from  any  thought  of  loue, 
as  these  from  any  blemish,  and  as  cleare  in  virginitie,  as  these  perfect 

6z  theM  F. 


sc.  i]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  309 

90  in  whitenesse.  But  that  my  Nymphes  may  know  both  thy  power 
and  thy  lawes,  and  neither  erre  in  ignorance  nor  pride^  let  me  aske 
some  questions  to  instruct  them  that  they  offend  not  thee,  whome 
resist  they  cannot.     In  virgines  what  dost  thou  chiefest  desire  ?  ]/^ 

Cupid.  In  those  that  are  not  in  loue,  reuerent  thoughts  of  loue ; 
95  in  those  that  be,  faithfull  vowes. 

Ceres.  What  doest  thou  most  hate  in  virgines  ? 

Cupid.  Pride  in  the  beautiful!,  bitter  taunts  in  the  wittie,  incredu- 
litie  in  all. 

Ceres.  What  may  protect  my  virgines  that  they  may  neuer  loue  ? 
00      Cupid.  That  they  be  neuer  idle. 

Ceres.  Why  didst  thou  so  cruellie  torment  all  Dianas  Nymphes 
with  loue  ? 

Cupid.  Because  they  thought  it  impossible  to  loue. 

Ceres.  What  is  the  substance  of  loue  ? 
05      Cupid.  Constancie  and  secrecie. 

Ceres.   What  the  signes  ? 

Cupid.  Sighes  and  teares. 

Ceres.  What  the  causes  ? 

Cupid.  Wit  and  idlenesse. 
10      Ceres.  What  the  meanes  ? 

Cupid.  Oportunitie  and  Importunitie. 

Ceres.  What  the  end? 

Cupid.   Happinesse  without  end. 

Ceres.  What  requirest  thou  of  men  ? 
15      Cupid.   That  onely  shall  be  knowne  to  men. 

Ceres.  What  reuenge  for  those  that  will  not  loue  ? 

Cupid.  To  be  deceiued  when  they  doe. 

Ceres.   Well,  Cupid^  intreate  my  Nymphes  with  (auour,  and  though 
to  loue  it  be  no  vice,  yet  spotlesse  virginitie  is  the  onely  vertue :  let 
20  me  keepe  their  thoughtes  as  chast  as  their  bodies,  that  Ceres  may 
be  happie,  &  they  praised. 

Cupid.  Why,   Ceres^  doe  you  thinke  that  lust  foUoweth  loue? 
CereSy  louers  are  chast:   for  what  is  loue,  diuine  loue,  but  the   >/ 
quintescens  of  chastitie,  and  affections  binding  by  heauenly  motions, 
J5  that  cannot  bee  vndone  by  earthly  meanes,  and  must  not  be  comp- 
trolled  by  any  man  ? 

Ceres.  Wee  will  honour  thee  with  continuall  sacrifice,  warme  vs 
with  mild  affections ;  lest  being  too  hotte,  wee  seeme  immodest  like 
wantons,  or  too  cold,  immoueable  like  stockes. 


J 


1  / 


^10  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS        [act  ii,  sc.  1 

Cupid.    CereSy  let  this  seme  for  all ;  let  not  thy  Nymphes  be  light  130 
nor  obstinate,  but  as  virgines  should  be,  pittifull  and  faithfull;  so 
shall  your  flames  warme,  but  not  burne,  delight,  and  neuer  dis- 
comfort. 

Ceres.   How  say  you,  my  Nymphs,  doth  not  Cupid  speake  like 
a  god  ?    Counsel  you  I  will  not  to  loue,  but  coniure  you  I  must  135 
that  you  be  not  disdainefulL     Let  vs  in,  and  see  how  Erisicthon 
speedeth;    famine  flieth  swiftly,  and   hath  already  seyzed  on  his 
stomacke.  Exeunt. 

ACTVS   TERTIVS. 

ScENA  Prima. — (^A  Glade  in  the  Forest^  with  transfer 

to  the  Tree^  \.  157.) 

Ramis,  Nisa,  Montanus,  Celia,  Siluestris,  Niobe. 

{Enter  Ramis,  pursuing  Nisa.) 

Ramis.  Stay,  cruell  Nisa,  thou  knowest  not  from  whome  thou 
fliest,  and  therefore  fliest;  I  come  not  to  offer  violence,  but  that 
which  is  inuiolable :  my  thoughts  are  as  holy  as  thy  vowes,  and  I  as 
constant  in  loue  as  thou  in  crueltie :  lust  followeth  not  my  loue  as 
shadowes  doe  bodies,  but  truth  is  wouen  into  my  loue,  as  veines  5 
into  bodies:  let  me  touch  this  tender  arme,  and  say  my  loue  is 
endlesse. 

Nisa.   And  to  no  end. 

Ramis.   It  is  without  spot. 

Nisa.   And  shall  be  without  hope.  10 

Ramis.   Dost  thou  disdaine  Loue  and  his  lawes  ? 
^      Nisa.   I  doe  not  disdaine  that  which  I  thinke  is  not,  yet  laugh  at 
those  that  honour  it  if  it  be. 

Ramis.   Time  shall  bring  to  passe  that  Nisa  shall  confesse  there 
is  loue.  15 

Nisa.  Then  also  will  loue  make  me  confesse  that  Nisa  is  a  foole. 

Ramis.   Is  it  folly  to  loue,  which  the  gods  accompt  honourable, 
and  men  esteeme  holy  ? 

Nisa.  The  gods  make  any  thing  lawfull,  because  they  be  gods, 
and  men  honour  shadowes  for  substance,  because  they  are  men.         20 

Ramis.  Both  gods  and  men  agree  that  loue  is  a  consuming  of  the 
heart  and  restoring,  a  bitter  death  in  a  sweete  life. 

a  a  restoring,]  comma  misplaced  at  ht^xi  Q  F, 


ACTiii,  sc.  i]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  31  r 

Nisa.  Gods  doe  know^  and  men  should,  that  loue  is  a  consum- 
ing of  wit,  and  restoring  of  folly,  a  staring  blindnesses  and  a  blind 
35  gaang. 

Ramis.  Wouldst  thou  allot  me  death  ? 

Nisa,  No,  but  discretion. 

Ratnis,  Yeeld  some  hope. 

Nisa,  Hope  to  dispaire.  ^ 

30      Ramis.   Not  so  long  as  Nisa  is  a  woman^ 

Nisa.  Therein,  Ramis^  you  show  your  selfe  a  man. 

Ratnis.  Why? 

JVisa,  In  flattering  your  selfe  that  all  women  wil  yeeld. 

Ramis.  All  may. 
55      Nisa.  Thou  shalt  sweare  that  we  cannot. 

Ramis.  I  will  follow  thee,  and  practise  by  denials  to  bee  patient, 
or  by  disdaining  die,  and  so  be  happie.  Exeunt. 

{Enter  Montanus,  pursuing  Celia.) 

Man.  Though  thou  hast  ouer-taken  me   in  loue,  yet  haue  I 
ouer-taken  thee  in  running :   faire  Celia,  yeelde  to  loue,  to  sweete 
40  loue. 

Ceiia.  Montanus,  thou  art  mad,  that  hauing  no  breath  almost 
in  running  so  fast,  thou  wilt  yet  spend  more  in  speaking  so 
foolishly:  yeeld  to  loue  I  cannot,  or  if  I  doe,  to  thy  loue  I 
will  not. 
45  Man.  The  fairest  Wolfe  chuseth  the  foulest,  if  he  bee  faith- 
fullest,  and  he  that  indureth  most  griefe,  not  hee  that  hath  most 
beautie. 

CeUa.   If  my  thoughts  were  woluish,  thy  hopes  might  be  as  thy 
comparison  is,  beastly. 
50     Mon.   I  would  thy  words  were,  as  thy  lookes  are,  louely. 

Celia.   I  would  thy  lookes  were,  as  thy  aflection  is,  blind. 

Mon.   Faire  faces  should  haue  smoothe  hearts. 

Celia.   Fresh  flowres  haue  crooked  rootes. 

Mon.  Womens  beauties  will  waine,  and  then  no  art  can  make 
55  them  faire ! 

Celia.   Mens  follies  will  euer  waxe,  and  then  what  reason  can 
make  them  wise  ? 

Mon.  To  be  amiable  and  not  to  loue,  is  like  a  painted  Lady,  to  t 
haue  colours,  and  no  life. 

30  Not  C :  No  /l  35  we  Q  F.\  qy.  .'one 


312  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iii 

Celia.  To  bee  amorous,  and  not  louely,  is  like  a  pleasant  foole,  60 
full  of  words,  and  no.  deserts. 

Mon.   What  call  you  deserts,  what  louely  ? 
^     Celia.   No  louelier  thing  then  wit,  no  greater  desert  then  patience. 

Mon,   Haue  not  I  an  excellent  wit  ? 

Celia,   If  thou  thinke  so  thy  selfe,  thou  art  an  excellent  foole.  65 

V  Mon,  {with  heaf).  Foole?  no,  Ctlia^  thou  shalt  find  me  as  wise,  as 
I  doe  thee  proud,  and  as  little  to  disgest  thy  taunts,  as  thou  to 
brooke  my  loue. 

Celia.  I  thought,  Montanus,  that  you  could  not  deserue,  when 
I  told  you  what  it  was,  Patience.  70 

Mon.   Sweete  Celioy  I  will  be  patient  and  forget  this. 

Celia.  Then  want  you  wit,  that  you  can  be  content  to  be  patient. 

Mon,  A  hard  choyse,  if  I  take  all  well,  to  be  a  foole ;  if  find 
fault,  then  to  want  patience. 

Celia.  The  fortune  of  loue,  and  the  vertue,  is  neither  to  haue  75 
successe  nor  meane.    Farewel !  {Exit,) 

Mon.  Farewell?  nay,  I  will  follow!  and  I  know  not  how  it 
commeth  to  passe,  disdaine  increaseth  desire;  and  the  further 
possibilitie  standeth,  the  neerer  approacheth  hope.     I  follow ! 

{Exit) 
{Enter  Silvestris  and  Niobe.) 

Sil.  Polypus^  Niobe^  is  euer  of  the  colour  of  the  stone  it  sticketh  80 
'    to,  and  thou  euer  of  his  humor  thou  talkest  with. 

Niobe.   Find  you  fault  that  I  loue? 

5/7.   So  many. 

Niobe.  Would  you  haue  me  like  none  ? 

Sil,   Yes,  one.  85 

Niobe.   Who  shall  make  choyse  but  my  selfe  ? 

Sil.  My  selfe. 

Niobe.  For  another  to  put  thoughts  into  my  head  were  to  pull  the 
braynes  out  of  my  head ;  take  not  measure  of  my  affections,  but 
weigh  your  owne ;  the  Oake  findeth  no  fault  with  the  dewe,  because  90 
it  also  falleth  on  the  bramble.  Beleeue  me,  Siluestris^  the  onely  way 
to  be  mad,  is  to  bee  constant.  Poets  make  their  wreathes  of  Lawrell, 
Ladies  of  sundrie  flowers. 

Sil,   Sweete  Niobe^  a  ryuer  running  into  diuers  brookes  becommeth 
shallow,  and  a  mind  diuided  into  sundrie  affections,  in  the  end  will  95 

60  foole,  comnia  inserted  F.  6a  I  not  F,  75  vcrtne,  no  comma  Q  F. : 

F,  also  om,  Qs  comma  at  lone  70,  79  s.  D.  (Mr)  [Kxit]  om.  Q :  Exeunt.  F. 


sai]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  313 

haue  none.  What  joy  can  I  take  in  the  fortune  of  my  loue,  when 
I  shall  know  many  to  haue  the  like  fauours  ?  Turtles  flocke  by 
couples,  and  breede  both  ioy  and  young  ones. 

Niobe,   But  Bees  in  swarmes,  and  bring  forth  waxe  and  honie. 
100     SiL  Why  doe  you  couet  many,  that  may  find  sweetnesse  in  one  ? 
Niobe.  Why  had  Argus  an  hundred  eyes,  and  might  haue  seene 
with  one  ? 

SiL   Because  whilest  he  slept  with  some,  he  might  wake  with 
other  some. 
-X05      Niobe,   And  I  loue  many^  because,  being  deceiued  by  the  incon- 
stancie  of  diuers,  I  might  yet  haue  one. 
•S/7.   That  was  but  a  deuice  of  luno^  that  knewe  lupiters  loue. 
Niobe.   And  this  a  rule  of  Venus^  that  knew  mens  lightnes. 
SiL   The  whole  heauen  hath  but  one  Sunne. 
no     Niobe,   But  starres  infinite. 

SiL   The  Rainebow  is  euer  in  one  compasse. 
Niobe,   But  of  sundrie  colours. 
•S/7.   A  woman  hath  but  one  heart 
Niobe,  But  a  thousand  thoughts. 
115     Sil,   My  Lute,  though  it  haue  many  strings,  maketh  a  sweete 
consent ;  and  a  Ladies  heart,  though  it  harbour  many  fancies,  should 
embrace  but  one  loue. 

Niobe,   The  strings  of  my  heart  are  tuned  in  a  contrarie  keye  to 
your  Lute,  and  make  as  sweete  harmonic  in  discords,  as  yours  in 
Z30  concord. 

•S/7.   Why,  what  strings  are  in  Ladies  hearts  ?    Not  the  base. 
Niobe,  There  is  no  base  string  in  a  womans  heart. 
Sil,  The  meane  ? 

Niobe,   There  was  neuer  meane  in  womans  heart. 
135      SiL   The  treble? 

Niobe,  Yea,  the  treble  double  and  treble;    and  so  are  all  my 
heartstrings.    Farewell ! 

Sil,   Sweete  Niobe,  let  vs  sing,  that  I  may  die  with  the  Swanne. 
Niobe,  It  will  make  you  sigh  the  more,  and  Hue  with  the  Salamich. 
130      SiL   Are  thy  tunes  fire  ? 
Niobe.   Are  yours  death  ? 

5/7.   No ;  but  when  I  haue  heard  thy  voice,  I  am  content  to  die. 
Niobe,    I  will  sing  to  content  thee. 

Cantant  {then  exit  Niobe). 

126  treble']  treble, /: 


3i4  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  n<J 

5/7.    Inconstant  Ntobe!  vnhappie  SiluestrisI  yet  had  I   rather 
shee  should  rather  loue  all  then  none :  for  nowe  though  I  haue  no  155 
certaintie,  yet  doe  I  find  a  kinde  of  sweetnesse. 

(^Re-enter  Ramis.) 

Ratnis,   Cruell  Nisa^  borne  to  slaughter  men ! 

(^Re-enter  Montanus.) 

Mon,   Coy  Celia^  bred  vp  in  skoffes  ! 

5/7.   Wauering,  yet  wittie  Niobe!    But  are  wee  all  met  ? 

Ramis.    Yea,  and  met  withall,   if  your  fortunes  be  answerable  140 
to  mine,  for  I  find  my  Mistris  immoueable,  and  the  hope  I  haue  is 
to  despaire. 

Men.  Mine  in  pride  intolerable,  who  biddeth  me  looke  for  no 
other  comfort  then  contempt. 

SiL   Mine  is  best  of  all,  and  worst;  this  is  my  hope,  that  either  145 
shee  will  haue  many  or  none. 

Ramis,   I  feare  our  fortunes  cannot  thriue,  for  Erisicthon  hath 
felled  downe  the  holy  tree  of  Ceres^  which  will  encrease  in  her  choler, 
and  in  her  Nymphes  crueltie :  let  vs  see  whether  our  Garlands  bee 
there  which  we  hanged  on  that  tree ;  and  let  vs  hang  our  selues  vpon  150 
another. 

5/7.  A  remedie  for  loue  irremoueable ;  but  I  will  first  see  whether 
all  those  that  loue  Niobe  do  like :  in  the  meane  season  I  will  content 
my  selfe  with  my  share. 

Mon,    Here  is  the  tree.     O  mischiefe  scarce  to  be  beleeued,  155 
impossible  to  be  pardoned  ! 

Ramis,  Pardoned  it  is  not,  for  Erisicthon  perisheth  with  famine, 
and  is  able  to  starue  those  that  looke  on  him.  Here  hang  our 
Garlands :  something  is  written ;  read  mine. 

5/7.    Cedit  amor  rebus^  res  age,  tutus  eris,      ,  160 

Mon.   And  mine. 

5i7.   Sat  mihi  si  fades,  sit  bene  nota  mihi. 

Now  for  my  selfe, 

Victoria  tecum  stabit — scilicet, 

Mon.   You  see  their  posies  is  as  their  hearts ;  and  their  hearts  as  165 
their  speeches,  cruell,  proud,  and  wauering :  let  vs  all  to  the  Temple 
of  Cupid^  and  intreate  his  fauour,  if  not  to  obtaine  their  loues,  yet  to 
reuenge  their  hates:    Cupid  is  a  kinde  god,  who,  knowing  our 
vnspotted  thoughts^  will  punish  them,  or  release  vs.      Wee  will 

149  garland  F.  150  the  F,  164  scilicet  as  pari  of  quotation  Q  F. 


sc.  i]  LOUES   METAMORPHOSIS  315 

170  studie  what  reuenge  to  haue,  that  our  paines  proceeding  of  our 
owne  minds,  their  plagues  may  also  proceed  from  theirs.  Are  you 
all  agreed? 

St7.   I  consent ;  but  what  if  Cu^id  denie  helpe  ? 
Mon,   Then  he  is  no  god. 
175      5/7.   But  if  he  yeeld,  what  shall  we  aske  ? 
Jiamis.   Reuenge. 
Mon,   Then  let  vs  prepare  our  selues  for  Cupids  sacrifice. 

ExeunL 

ScENA  Secvnda.— (51f<i^^^^  near  Erisichthon's  jFarm.} 

Erisicthon,  Protea,  Marchant. 

{Enter  Erisichthon  and  Protea.) 

Eris,  Come,  Protea^  deare  daughter,  that  name  must  thou  buy 
too  deare ;  necessitie  causeth  thee  to  be  sold,  nature  must  frame  thee 
to  be  contented.  Thou  seest  in  how  short  a  space  I  haue  turned  all 
my  goods  into  my  guts,  where  I  feele  a  continuall  fire,  which 
5  nothing  can  quench :  my  famine  increaseth  by  eating,  resembling 
the  Sea,  which  receiueth  all  things,  and  cannot  bee  filled:  life  is 
sweete,  hunger  sharpe;  betweene  them  the  contention  must  bee 
short,  vnlesse  thou,  Protea^  prolong  it.  I  haue  acknowledged  my 
offence  against  Ceres ;  make  amends  I  cannot,  for  the  gods  holding 

10  the  ballance  in  their  hands,  what  recompence  can  equally  weigh 
with  their  punishments?  Or  what  is  hee  that  hauing  but  one  ill 
thought  of  CereSy  that  can  race  it  with  a  thousand  dutiful!  actions  ? 
such  is  the  difference,  that  none  can  find  defence :  this  is  the  ods^ 
we  miserable,  and  men ;  they  immortall,  and  gods. 

1 5  Pro,  Deare  father,  I  will  obey  both  to  sale  and  slaughter,  accompt- 
ing  it  the  onely  happinesse  of  my  life,  should  I  liue  an  hundred 
yeares,  to  prolong  yours  but  one  mynute :  I  yeeld,  father,  chop  and 
chaunge  me,  I  am  readie;  but  first  let  mee  make  my  prayers  to 
Neptune^  and  withdraw  your  selfe  till  I  haue  done :  long  it  shall  not 

20  bee,  now  it  must  be. 

Eris,    Stay,  sweete  Protea^  and  that  great  god  heare  thy  prayer, 
though  Ceres  stop  her  eares  to  mine. 

(Erisichthon  retires.') 
Pro,   SsLcredJVeptune,  whose  godhead  conquered  my  maiden-head, 
bee  as  ready  to  heare  my  passions,  as  I  was  to  beleeue  thine,  and 

25  performe  that  now  I  intreate,  which  thou  didst  promise  when  thy 


3i6  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iii 

sdfe  didst  loue.  Let  not  me  bee  a  pray  to  this  Marchaunt,  who 
knowes  no  other  god  .then  Gold,  vnlesse  it  bee  falsely  swearing  by 
a  god  to  get  gold ;  let  me,  as  often  as  I  be  bought  for  money,  or 
pawnd  for  meate,  be  turned  into  a  Bird,  Hare,  or  Lambe,  or  any 
shape  wherin  I  may  be  safe ;  so  shall  I  preserue  mine  owne  honour,  30 
my  fathers  life,  and  neuer  repent  me  of  thy  loue :  and  now  bestirre 
thee,  for  of  all  men,  I  hate  that  Marchant,  who,  if  he  find  my  beautie 
worth  one  pennie,  will  put  it  to  vse  to  gaine  ten,  hauing  no  Religion 
ih  his  mind,  nor  word  in  his  mouth  but  money.  Neptune^  heare  now 
or  neuer.     Father,  I  haue  done.  35 

Eris,  (^advancing).  In  good  time,  Proiea^  thou  hast  done ;  for  loe, 
the  Marchant  keepeth  not  onely  day,  but  hower. 

Fro,    If  I  had  not  beene  here,  had  I  beene  forfeited  ? 

Eris.  No,  Proiea,  but  thy  father  famished.    {Enter  a  Merchant.) 
Here,  Gentleman,  I  am  ready  with  my  daughter.  40 

Pro.  Gentleman? 

Mar.   Yea,  Gentleman,  faire  maide  !  my  conditions  make  me  no 
lesse. 

Pro.   Your  conditions  in  deed  brought  in  your  obligations,  your 
obligations  your  Vsurie,  your  Vsurie  your  Gentrie.  ^5 

Mar.  Why,  doe  you  iudge  no  Marchants  Gentlemen  ? 

Pro.   Yes,  many,  and  some  no  men ! 

Mar.  You  shall  be  well  intreated  at  my  hands. 

Pro,    It  may.    Commaunded  I  will  not  be. 

Mar.   If  you  be  mine  by  bargaine,  you  shall.  50 

Pro.    Father,  hath  this  Marchant  also  bought  my  mind  ? 

Eris.    He  cannot  buy  that,  which  cannot  be  sold. 

Mar.    Here  is  the  money. 

Eris.   Here  the  maide:  farewell,  my  sweete  daughter;  I  commit 
thee  to  the  gods,  and  this  mans  curtesie,  who  I  hope  will  deale  no  55 
worse  with  thee,  then  hee  would  haue  the  gods  with  him.     I  must 
bee  gone,  lest  I  doe  starue  as  I  stand.  Exit. 

Pro.   Farewell,  deare  Father,  I  will  not  cease  continually  to  pray 
to  Ceres^  for  thy  recouerie. 

Mar.  You  are  now  mine,  Protea.  60 

Pro.    And  mine  owne. 

Mar.    In  will,  not  power. 

Pro.    In  power  if  I  will. 

59  thy  0m.  F. 


9a  n]  LOUES  ICETAMORPHOSIS  Sty 

Mmr,  I  pocriK  Ncltk%  gendj  tondied,  sdqg;  but  roq^lf 
^5  li^wiBH^  adbe  bo  flnait. 

/V«L  Yet  roagblf  huidhdL  Nettles  are  Nettle^  and  a  Waspe  is 
a  Waspe^  tfaoi^  diee  lose  her  sdng. 
Mwr.  But  dm  diey  doe  no  hanne. 
/VsL  Nor  good. 
70     Mwr.  Caaie  widi  me^  and  70a  siiaD  see  thai  Havdoamts  knov 
their  good  as  wefl  as  Gentlemen, 
jT9m  Sore  I  an,  diey  hane  Gentienens  goods. 


ACTVS  QVARTVS. 

ScESA  FuDUL—iB^bre  ike  Iht^  sfCamk} 
Ramis,  Montaxus,  Silubstms^  Cunix 
{^Enier  ike  ikne  Foresten  mik  e^aimgs.'^ 
Xawus,  This  is  the  Temple  of  oar  gicat  god,  let  ts  ofler  our 


Mom.   I  am  readie. 

SiL  And  I.     Cupid^  thou  god  of  kme^  whose  arrowes   haue 
5  pierced  our  hearts,  giue  eare  to  our  plaints. 

{The  iett^le-doart  open.) 
Cupid.   If  you  come  to  Cupid^  speake  boldly,  so  must  loners; 
speake  foithfuUy,  so  must  speeders. 

Ramis.   These  euer  bumii^  Lampes  are  signes  of  my  neuer  to  be 

quenched  flames;  this  bleeding  heart,  in  which  yet  stickes  the  head 

10  of  the  golden  shaft,  is  the  liudy  picture  of  inward  torments :  mine 

eyes  shall  bedewe  thine  Altars  with  teares,  and  my  sighes  couer  thy 

Temple  with  a  darke  smoake :  pittie  poore  Rattds. 

Mon.  With  this  distafie  haue  I  spun,  that  my  exercises  bee  as 

womanish  as  my  affections,  and  so  did  Hercuies:  and  with  this 

15  halter  will  I  hang  my  selfe,  if  my  fortunes  answere  not  my  deserts, 

and  so  did  Jphis.    To  thee,  diuine  Cupid^  I  present  not  a  bleeding, 

but  a  bloudlesse  heart,  dried  onely  with  sorrow,  and  wome  with 

laithfuU  seruice. 

This  picture  I  offer,  earned  with  no  other  instrument  then  Loue ; 

20  pittie  poore  Monianus. 

SiL  This  £mne  of  Swans  and  Turtles  feathers  is  token  of  my 
truth  and  iealousie :  iealousic^  without  which  loue  is  dotage,  and  with 


3i8  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iv 

which  loue  is  madnesse ;  without  the  which  loue  is  lust,  and  with 
which  loue  is  folly.  This  heart,  neither  bleeding  nor  bloudlesse,  but 
swolne  with  sighes,  I  offer  to  thy  godhead,  protesting  that  all  my  25 
thoughts  are,  as  my  words,  without  lust,  and  all  my  loue,  as  my 
fortune,  without  sweetnesse.  This  Garland  of  flowers,  which  hath 
all  colours  of  the  Rainebowe,  witnesseth  that  my  heart  hath  all 
torments  of  the  world :  pittie  poore  Siiuestris, 

Cupid,    I  accept  your  offers,  not  without  cause ;  and  wonder  at  30 
your  loues^  not  without  pleasure :  but  bee  your  thoughts  as  true  as 
your  words  ? 

Ramis,  Thou  Cupidy  that  giuest  the  wound,  knowest  the  heart ; 
for  as  impossible  it  is  to  conceale  our  affections,  as  to  resist  thy 
force.  35 

Cupid,  I  know  that  where  mine  arrowe  lighteth,  there  breedeth 
loue ;  but  shooting  euerie  minute  a  thousand  shafts,  I  know  not  on 
whose  heart  they  light,  though  they  fall  on  no  place  but  hearts. 
What  are  your  mistresses  ? 

Ramis,    Ceres  maidens :   mine  most  cruell,  which  shee  calleth  40 
constancie. 

Mon.   Mine  most  faire,  but  most  proud. 

5i7.    Mine  most  wittie,  but  most  wauering. 

Cupid,   Is  the  one  cruell,  th'  other  coye,  the  third  inconstant  ? 

Ramis,   Too  cruell !  45 

Mon,   Too  coye ! 

SiL   Too  fickle! 

Cupid,   What  do  they  thinke  of  Cupid  f 

Ramis.  One  saith  hee  hath  no  eyes,  because  he  hits  hee  knowes 
not  whome.  50 

Mon.   Th'  other,  that  he  hath  no  eares,  to  heare  those  that  call. 

Si/.  The  third,  that  he  hath  no  nose,  for  sauours  are  not  found 
of  louers. 

Ramis.  All,  that  hee  hath  no  taste,  because  sweete  and  sower  is 
all  one.  55 

Mon,  All,  that  hee  hath  no  sence,  because  paines  are  pleasures, 
and  pleasures  paines. 

Sil.  All,  that  he  is  a  foolish  god,  working  without  reason,  and 
suffering  the  repulse  without  regard. 

Cupid.   Dare  they  blaspheme  my  god-head,  which  loue  doth  60 

53  fonnd  Qi  fond  /*« 


:5Ci]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  ^19 

worship,  Neptune  reuerence,  and  all  the  gods  tremble  at  ?  To  make 
them  loue  were  a  reuenge  too  gentle  for  Cupid:  to  make  you  hate, 
3i  recompence  too  smal  for  louers.  But  of  that  anon ;  what  haue  you 
ysed  in  loue? 
^5  Ramis.  All  things  that  may  procure  loue,— giftes,  words,  othes, 
jsighs,  and  swounings. 

Cupid,   What  said  they  of  gifts  ? 

Man,  That  affection  could  not  bee  bought  with  gold. 

Cupid,   What  of  words  ? 
70     Ramis.  That  they  were  golden  blastes,  out  of  Leaden  bellowes. 

Cupid.   What  of  othes? 

Sil,    That  Jupiter  neuer  sware  true  to  Juno, 

Cupid,    What  of  sighes  ? 

Sil,   That  deceipt  kept  a  forge  in  the  hearts  of  fooles. 
75      Cupid,   What  of  swounings  ? 

Mon,   Nothing,  but  that  they  wished  them  deathes. 

Cupid,   What  reasons  gaue  they,  not  to  loue  ? 

^7.    Womens  reasons ;  they  would  not,  because  they  would  not. 

Cupid,  y^^y  then   shall  you    see  Cupid  requite  their  reasons 
«o  with  his  xigour.     What  punishment  doe  you  desire,  that  Cupid  will 
denie? 

Ramis,  Mine  being  so  hard  as  stone,  would  I  haue  turned  to 
stone ;  that  being  to  louers  pittilesse,  shee  may  to  all  the  world  b^ 
sencelesse. 
85  Mon,  Mine  being  so  faire  and  so  proud,  would  I  haue  turned  into 
some  flower;  that  shee  may  know  beautie  is  as  fading  as  grasse, 
which  being  fresh  in  the  morning,  is  withered  before  night. 

Sil,   Mine,  diuine  Cupid^  whose  affection  nothing  can  make  staied, 

let  her  be  turned  to  that  Bird  that  liueth  only  by  ayre,  and  dieth  if 

90  shee  touch  the  earth,  because  it  is  constant.     The  bird  of  Paradise, 

Cupid^  that,  drawing  in  her  bowels  nothing  but  a3rre,  shee  may  know 

her  heart  fed  on  nothing  but  ficklenesse. 

Cupid,  Your  reuenges  are  reasonable,  and  shall  bee  graunted. 
Thou  Nisa^  whose  heart  no  teares  could  pearce,  shalt  with  continuall 
95  wanes  be  wasted :  in  stead  of  thy  faire  haire,  shalt  thou  haue  greene 
mosse;  thy  face  of  flint,  because  thy  heart  is  of  marble;  thine 
cares  shall  bee  holes  for  fishes,  whose  eares  were  more  deafe  then 
fishes.  Thou  Celia^  whome  beautie  made  proud,  shalt  haue  the 
iruite  of  beautie,  that  is^  to  fade  whiles  it  is  flourishing,  and  to  blast 
zoo  before  it  is  blowne.    Thy  face,  as  faire  as  the  Damaske  rose,  shall 


320  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iv 

perish  like  the  Damaske  rose ;  the  canker  shall  eate  thee  in  the  bud, 
and  euerie  little  wind  blow  thee  from  the  stalke,  and  then  shall  men 
in  the  morning  weare  thee  in  their  Hats,  and  at  night  cast  thee  at 
their  heeles.  Thou  Niobe^  whome  nothing  can  please,  (but  that 
which  most  displeaseth  Cupid^  inconstancie)  shalt  only  breathe  and  105 
sucke  ayre  for  foode,  and  weare  feathers  for  silke,  beeing  more 
wauering  then  ayre,  and  lighter  then  feathers.  This  will  Cupid  doe. 
Therefore,  when  next  you  shall  behold  your  Ladies,  doe  but  send 
a  faithful!  sigh  to  Cupid^  and  there  shall  arise  a  thicke  mist  which 
Proserpine  shall  send,  and  in  the  moment  you  shall  be  reuenged,  no 
and  they  chaunged,  Cupid  proue  himselfe  a  great  god,  and  they 
peeuish  girles. 

Ramis.  With  what  sacrifice  shall  wee  shewe  our  selues  thankful!, 
or  how  may  we  requite  this  benefit  ? 

Cupid.  You  shal  yerely  at  my  Temple  offer  true  hearts,  and  115 
howerly  bestow  all  your  wits  in  louing  deuices ;  thinke  all  the  time 
lost,  that  is  not  spent  in  loue ;  let  your  othes  be  without  number,  but 
not  without  truth ;  your  words  full  of  alluring  sweetnesse,  but  not  of 
broad  flatterie;  your  attires  neate,  but  not  womanish;  your  giftes 
of  more  price  for  the  fine  deuice,  then  the  great  valewe,  and  yet  of  I'o 
such  valew  that  the  deuice  seeme  not  beggerly,  nor  your  selues 
blockish;  be  secrete,  that  worketh  myracles;  bee  constant,  that 
bringeth  secrecie ;  this  is  all  Cupid  doth  commaund.    Away  ! 

Ratnis.   And  to  this  we  all  willingly  consent 

(  The  temple-doors  close. ) 

Nowe  what  resteth  but  reuenge  on  them  tliat  haue  practised  125 
malice  on  vs  ?  let  mine  be  any  thing,  seeing  shee  will  not  be  onely 
mine. 

Mon,    Let  vs  not  now  stand  wishing,  but  presently  seeke  them 
out,  vsing  as  great  speed  in  following  reuenge  as  we  did  in  pursuing 
our  loue :  certainely  wee  shall  find  them  about  Ceres  tree,  singing  or  130 
sacrifizing. 

Sil.  But  shall  we  not  goe  visit  Erisicthon  ? 

Mon.  Not  I,  lest  hee  eate  vs,  that  deuoureth  all  things;  his 
lookes  are  of  force  to  famish  :  let  vs  in,  and  let  all  Ladies  beware  to 
offend  those  in  spight,  that  loue  them  in  honour ;  for  when  the  Crow  135 
shall  set  his  foote  in  their  eye,  and  the  blacke  Oxe  tread  on  their 
foote,  they  shall  finde  their  misfortunes  to  be  equal!  with  their 
deformities,  and  men  both  to  loath  and  laugh  at  them.  Exeunt. 

129  punaing  Qx  puising  F. 


«c.  ii]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  321 

ScENA  Secvnda. — (^Seashore  near  Erisichthon's  Farm,) 

Erisicthon,  Protea,  Petulius,  Syren. 

(^Enter  Erisichthon  and  Protea.) 

Eris.   Come,  Protea^  tell  me,  how  didst  thou  escape  from  the 
Marchant  ? 

Pro,  Neptune^  that  great  god,  when  I  was  ready  to  goe  with  the 
Marchaunt  into  the  ship,  turned  me  to  a  Fisherman  on  the  shore, 
5  with  an  Angle  in  my  hand,  and  on  my  shoulder  a  net ;  the 
Marchaunt  missing  me,  and  yet  finding  me,  asked  me  who  I  was, 
and  whether  I  saw  not  a  faire  maiden?  I  answered,  no!  Hee 
marueiling  and  raging,  was  forced  either  to  lose  his  passage,  or 
seeke  for  mee  among  the  Pebbles !  To  make  short,  a  good  wind 
xo  caused  him  to  goe  I  know  not  whither,  and  me  (thanks  be  to 
Neptune)  to  returne  home. 

Eris,  Thou  art  happie,  Protea,  though  thy  Father  bee  miserable : 
and  Neptune  gracious,  though  Ceres  cruell :  thy  escape  from  the 
Marchaunt  breedeth  in  me  life,  ioy,  and  fulnesse. 
15  Pro,  My  father  cannot  be  miserable,  if  Protea  be  happie ;  for  by 
selling  me  euerie  day,  hee  shall  neuer  want  meate,  nor  I  shiftes  to 
escape.  And,  now.  Father,  giue  me  leaue  to  enioy  my  Petuiius,  that 
on  this  vnfortunate  shore  still  seekes  me  sorrowing. 

Eris.   Seeke  him,  deare  Protea ;  find  and  enioy  him ;  and  Hue 

30  euer  hereafter  to  thine  owne  comforts,  that  hast  hitherto  beene  the 

preseruer  of  mine.  Exit, 

Pro.  Aye  me,  behold,  a  Syren  haunts  this  shore !  the  gods  forbid 
shee  should  entangle  my  Petulius,  Syren  (^appears). 

Syren,  Accursed  men!  whose  loues  haue  no  other  meane  then 
25  extremities,  nor  hates  end  but  mischiefe. 

Pro,  Vnnaturall  monster!  no  maide,  that  accuseth  men,  whose 
loues  are  built  on  truth,  and  whose  hearts  are  remoued  by  curtesie  : 
I  will  heare  the  depth  of  her  malice. 

Syren,  Of  all  creatures  most  vnkind,  most  cunning,  by  whose 
30  subtilties  I  am  halfe  fish,  halfe  flesh,  themselues  being  neither  fish 
nor  flesh ;  in  loue  luke  warme,  in  crucltie  red  hot ;  if  they  praise, 
they  flatter ;  if  flatter,  deceiue ;  if  deceiue,  destroy. 

Pro,   Shee  rayles  at  men,  but  seekes  to  intangle  them :  this  slight 

ScENA  Prima  Q,  corrected  F,       s.  d.  Syren  appears  F, :   Q,  simply  Syren  in 
middle  of  page  26-7  whose  loues  . . ,  truth,  and  om,  F, 

BOMD  III  Y 


32i  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iV 

is  prepared  for  my  sweete  PetuUus  ;  I  will  withdraw  my  selfe  close, 
for  Petulius  followeth :  hee  will  without  doubt  be  enamored  of  her,  35 
enchaunted  hee  shall  not  be,  my  charmes  shall  counteruaile  hers ; 
it  is  he  hath  saued  my  Fathers  life  with  money,  and  must  prolong 
mine  with  loue. 

(^Enier  Petulius.) 

Pet  I  maruaile  Proiea  is  so  farre  before  me :  if  shee  runne,  lie 
flie :  sweete  Protea,  where  art  thou  ?  it  is  Petulius  calleth  Protea.       40 

Syren.  Here  commeth  a  braue  youth.  Now  Syren^  leaue  out 
nothing  that  may  allure — thy  golden  lockes,  thy  entising  lookes,  thy 
tuned  voice,  thy  subtile  speeche,  thy  faire  promises,  which  neuer 
missed  the  heart  of  any  but  Vlisses. 

Sing  with  a  Giasse  in  her  hand  and  a  Combe. 

Pet   What  diuine  goddesse  is  this?    What  sweete  harmonie?  my  45 
heart  is  rauished  with  such  tickling  thoughts,  and  mine  eyes  stayed 
with  such  a  bewitching  beautie,  that  I  can  neither  find  the  meanes 
to  remoue  my  aflfection,  nor  to  tume  aside  my  lookes. 

Sing  againe  Syren. 

I  yeeld  to  death,  but  with  such  delight,  that  I  would  not  wish  to 
Hue,  vnlesse  it  were  to  heare  thy  sweete  layes.  50 

Syren.  Liue  still,  so  thou  loue  me !  why  standest  thou  amazed  at 
the  word  Loue  ? 

Pro,  {behind).  It  is  high  time  to  preuent  this  mischiefe.  Nowe, 
Neptune^  stand  to  thy  promise,  and  let  me  take  suddenly  the  shape 
of  an  olde  man ;  so  shall  I  marre  what  shee  makes.  55 

{Exit  into  the  structure  at  back.) 

Pet.  Not  yet  come  to  my  selfe,  or  if  I  bee,  I  dare  not  credit  mine 
eares.  Loue  thee,,  diuine  goddesse?  Vouchsafe  I  may  honour 
thee,  and  liue  by  the  imagination  I  haue  of  thy  words  and  worthi- 
nesse. 

Syren.   I  am  {not)  a  goddesse,  but  a  Ladie  and  a  virgine,  whose  60 
loue  if  thou  embrace,  thou  shalt  liue  no  lesse  happie  then  the  gods 
in  heauen. 

{Re-enter  Protea  as  an  old  man.) 

Pro.   Beleeue  not  this  Inchauntresse  (sweete  youth)  who  retaineth 
the  face  of  a  Virgine,  but  the  heart  of  a  Fiend,  whose  sweet  tongue  5- 
sheadeth  more  drops  of  bloud  then  it  vttereth  sillables. 

8.  D.  Sing  Q :  Sings  /*•  56  mine]  my  F. 


sail]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  32s 

JPet  Ou^  dottrell  f  whose  dimme  eyes  cannot  discerae  beautie^ 
nor  doting  age  iudge  of  loue* 

Pro.  If  thou  listen  to  her  words,  thou  shalt  not  liue  to  repent : 
for  her  malice  is  as  suddaine  as  her  ioyes  are  sweete. 
^     Pet.  Thy  siluer  haires  are  not  so  precious  as  her  golden  lockes, 
nor  thy  crooked  age  of  that  estimation  as  her  flowring  youth* 

Syren.  That  old  man  measureth  the  hot  a^ssault  of  loue  with  the 
cold  skirmishes  of  age. 
Pro.   That  young  cruell  resembleth  old  Apes,  who  kill  by  culling : 
75  from  the  top  of  this  Rocke  whereon  shee  sitteth,  will  shee  throw  thee 
headlong  into  the  Sea,  whose  song  is  the  instrument  of  her  witchcraft, 
neuer  smiling  but  when  shee  meaneth  to  smite,  and  vnder  the 
flatterie  of  loue  practiseth  the  sheading  of  bloud. 
Pet  What  art  thou,  which  so  blasphemest  this  diuine  creature  ? 
80     Pro.   I  am  the  Ghost  of  V/isses,  who  continually  houer  about 
these  places,  where  this  Syren  haunteth,  to  saue  those  which  other- 
wise should  be  spoyled :  stop  thine  eares,  as  I  did  mine,  and  succour 
the  faire,  but,  by  thy  folly,  the  most  infortunate  Protea. 
Pet  Protea  1     What  dost   thou    heare,  Petulius?     Where   is 
85  Protea  ? 

Pro.   In  this  thicket,  ready  to  hang  her  selfe,  because  thou  carest 

not  for  her,  that  did<st)  sweare  to  follow.     Curse  this  hag,  who  onely 

hath  the  voice  and  face  of  a  Virgine,  the  rest  all  fish  and  feathers, 

and  filth  ;  follow  me,  and  strongly  stoppe  thine  eares,  lest  the  second 

90  encounter  make  the  wound  incurable. 

Pet   Is  this  a  Syren,  and  thou  Vlisses  ?    Cursed  be  that  hellish 
carkas,  and  blessed  be  thy  heauenly  spirit 

Syren.   I  shrinke  my  head  for  shame.    O  V/tsses  /  is  it  not  enough 
for  thee  to  escape,  but  also  to  teach  others  ?    Sing  and  die,  nay  die, 
95  and  neuer  sing  more. 

J^.  FoUowe  me  at  this  doore,  and  out  at  the  other, 

{JThey  pass  through  the  central  structure y  Protea  emerging 

in  her  own  character,) 
Pet,   How  am  I  deliuered !  the  old  man  is  vanished,  and  here  for 
him  stands  Protea, 

Pro,   Here  standeth  Protea,  that  hath  saued  thy  life,  thou  must 
100  also  prolong  hers  :  but  let  vs  into  the  woods,  and  there  I  will  tell  thee 
howe  I  came  to  Vlisses,  and  the  summe  of  all  my  fortunes,  which 
happily  will  breed  in  thee  both  loue  and  wonder. 

75  sittith  /;  87  that  didst]  F,  in  note  proposed  that  thou  didst 

Y  Z 


124:  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS        [act  iv,  sc.  ii 

,  Pet   I  will,  and  onely  loue  Frotea^  and  neuer  cease  to  wonder  at 
Proiea,  Exeunt. 

ACTVS  QVINTVS. 

ScENA  Prima. — (^Before  the  Temple  (/Cupid.) 
{Enter}  CsRHS,  Cupid,  Tirtena. 

Ceres.  Cupidy  thou  hast  transformed  my  Nymphes  and  incensed 
me ;  them  to  shapes  vnreasonable,  me  to  anger  immortal!,  for  at  one 
time  I  am  both  robd  of  mine  honour  and  my  Nymphes. 

Cupid,  CereSy  thy  Nymphes  were  stubbome,  and  thy  selfe, 
speaking  so  imperiously  to  Cupid^  somewhat  stately.  If  you  aske  5 
the  cause  in  choller,  Sic  volo^  sic  iubeo:  if  in  curtesie,  Quce  venit  ex 
merito  pcena  dolenda  venit.  They  were  disdainefull,  and  haue  their 
deserts ;  thou  Ceres^  doest  but  goueme  the  guts  of  men,  I  the 
hearts :  thou  seekest  to  starue  Erisicthon  with  thy  minister,  famine, 
whome  his  daughter  shall  preserue  by  my  vertue,  loue.  lo 

\  Ceres.   Thou  art  but  a  god,  Cupid. 

Cupid.  No  CereSy  but  such  a  god  that  maketh  thunder  fall  out  of 
loues  hand,  by  throwing  thoughts  into  his  heart,  and  to  bee  more 
terrified  with  the  sparkling  of  a  Ladies  eye,  then  men  with  the  flashes 
of  his  lightning :  such  a  god  that  hath  kindled  more  fire  in  Neptunes  75 
bosome,  then  the  whole  Sea  which  he  is  king  of  can  quench :  such 
power  haue  I,  that  Plutaes  neuer  dying  fire  doth  but  scorch  in 
respect  of  my  flames.  Diana  hath  felt  some  motions  of  loue,  Vesta 
doth,  Ceres  shall. 

Ceres.    Art  thou  so  cruell  ?  ao 

Cupid.  To  those  that  resist,  a  Lyon;  to  those  that  submit, 
a  Lambe. 

Ceres.  Canst  thou  make  such  difference  in  affection,  and  yet  shall 
it  all  be  loue  ? 

Cupid.   Yea,  as  much  as  betweene  sicknesse  and  health,  though  25 
in  both  bee  life :  those  that  yeeld  and  honour  Cupid^  shall  possesse 
sweete  thoughts  and  enioy  pleasing  wishes:   the  other  shall  bee 
tormented  with  vaine  imaginations  and  impossible  hopes. 

Ceres.   How  may  my  Nymphes  be  restored  ? 
'    Cupid.    If  thou  restore  Erisicthon^  they  embrace  their  loues,  and  30 
all  offer  sacrifice  to  me. 

s.  D.  Tirtena.  Q  F.    See  note  9  ministred .  Q  F. 


ACT  V,  sc  i]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  32s 

'  Ceres.  Erisicthon  did  in  contempt  hewe  downe  my  sacred  tree. 
Cupid,   Thy  Nymphes  did  in  disdaine  scorne  my  constant  love. 
Ceres.  He  slew  most  cruelly  my  chast  JFidelia^  whose  bloud  lieth 
35  yet  on  the  ground. 

Cupid.  But  Diana  hath  chaunged  her  bloud  to  freshe  flowers, 
which  are  to  be  scene  on  the  ground. 

Ceres.   What  honour  shal  he  doe  to  Ceres  9     What  amends  can 
he  make  to  Fidelia  t 
40      Cupid.  All  Ceres  grone  shall  he  decke  with  Garlands,  and  accompt 
euerie  tree  holy ;  a  stately  monument  shall  hee  erect  in  remembraunce 
of  Fidelia,  and  offer  yearely  sacrifice. 

Ceres.  What  sacrifice  shall  I  and  my  Nymphes  offer  thee?  for 
I  will  doe  any  thing  to  restore  my  Nymphes,  and  honour  thee. 
45  Cupid,  You  shall  present  in  honour  of  my  mother  Venus^  Grapes 
and  Wheate;  for  Sine  Cerere  6*  Bauho  friget  Venus.  You  shall 
suffer  your  Nymphes  to  play,  sometimes  to  be  idle,  in  the  fauour  of 
Cupid ;  for  Otia  si  tollas,  periere  Cupidinis  arcus.  So  much  for 
Ceres.  Thy  Nymphes  shall  make  no  vowes  to  continue  Virgins,  ^^ 
50  nor  vse  words  to  disgrace  loue,  nor  flie  from  oportunities  that  kindle 
affections :  if  they  be  chast,  let  them  not  bee  cruell ;  if  faire,  not 
proud ;  if  louing,  not  inconstant  Crueltie  is  for  Tygers,  pride  for 
Peacockes,  inconstancie  for  fooles. 

Ceres.    Cupid,  I  yeeld,  and  they  shall:   but  sweete  Cupid^  let    ^ 
55  them  not   be   deceiued  by  flatterie,  which  taketh  the  shape  of 
affection,  nor  by  lust,  which  is  clothed  in  the  habit  of  loue ;  for  men 
haue  as  many  slights  to  delude,  as  they  haue  words  to  speake. 

Cupid,   Those  that  practise  deceit  shall  perish:  Clv/iit/ fauoureth 
none  but  the  faithfull. 
60      Ceres.   Well,  I  will  goe  to  Erisicthon^  and  bring  him  before  thee. 
Cupid.  Then  shall  thy  Nymphes  recouer  their  formes,  so  as  they 
yeeld  to  loue. 

Ceres,   They  shall.  Exeunt. 

ScENA  Secvnda. — {The  same,) 
{Enter)  Petulius,  Protea. 

Pet.  A  straunge  discourse,  Protea^  by  which  I  find  the  gods 
amorous,  and  Virgines  immortall,  goddesses  full  of  crueltie,  and  men 
of  vnhappinesse. 

61  formes  F, :  fames  Q  ScsNA  Prima  Q,  carr,  F.  2  immortall, 

JF',  rightly  transfers  Qs  comma  from  goddesses 


^26  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [actv 

Pro,  I  haue  told  both  my  Fathers  misfortunes,  grown  by  stoutnesse, 
and  mine  by  weaknesse ;  his  thwarting  of  Ceres ^  my  yeelding  X,o Neptune.  5 

Pet  I  know,  Protea^  that  hard  yron,  falling  into  fire,  waxeth  soft ; 
and  then  the  tender  heart  of  a  Virgine  being  in  loue,  must  needes 
melt :  for  what  should  a  faire  yong,  and  wittie  Ladie  answere  to  the 
sweete  inticements  of  loue,  but, 

Molle  meum  leuibus  cor  est  violabile  telis  ?  10 

Pro.   I  haue  heard  too,  that  hearts  of  men  stifTer  then  Steele,  haue 
by  loue  beene  made  softer  then  wooll,  and  then  they  crie, 
Omnia  vincit  amor^  &*  nos  cedamus  amort. 

Pet.   Men  haue  often  fained  sighs. 

Pro.  And  women  forged  teares.  15 

Pet.  Suppose  I  loue  not. 

Pro.  Suppose  I  care  not. 

Pet.   If  men  sweare  and  lie,  how  will  you  trie  their  loues  ? 

Pro.  If  women  sweare  they  loue,  how  will  you  trie  their  dissembling? 
^  Pet.   The  gods  put  wit  into  women.  ao 

Pro.  And  nature  deceite  into  men. 

Pet.    I  did  this  but  to  trie  your  patience. 

Pro.  Nor  I,  but  to  prooue  your  faith.  But  see,  PetuKus^  what 
miraculous  punishments  here  are  for  deserts  in  loue :  this  Rocke  was 
a  Njrmph  to  Ceres  ;  so  was  this  Rose ;  so  that  Bird.  25 

Pet.  All  chaung'd  from  their  shapes  ? 

Pro.  All  chaung'd  by  Cupid^  because  they  disdain'd  loue,  or 
dissembrd  in  it. 

Pet.  A  faire  warning  to  Protea ;  I  hope  shee  will  loue  without 
dissembling.  30 

Pro.  An  Item  for  Petulius^  that  hee  delude  not  those  that  loue 
him ;  for  Cupid  can  also  chaunge  men.     Let  vs  in.  Exeunt. 

ScENA  Tertia. — {The  same.) 

(^Enter)  Ramis,  Siluestris,  Montanus. 

Ramis.  This  goeth  luckily,  that  Cupid  hath  promised  to  restore 
our  mistresses :  and  Ceres^  that  they  shall  accept  our  loues. 

Mon.  I  did  euer  imagine  that  true  loue  would  end  with  sweete 
ioyes,  though  it  was  b^un  with  deepe  sighs. 

10  leuibus . .  .  telis  Q  {Cf.  M.  Bomb.  iv.  X.  35) :  lenibus . . .  telit  F.  Scbna 
Qvarta  6,  corrected  F. 


sciii]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  327 

5     Si7.  But  how  shall  we  looke  on  them  when  we  shal  see  them 
smile?    We  must,  and  perchaunce  they  will,  frowne. 

J^amss.  Tush !  let  vs  indure  the  bending  of  their  faire  browes,  and 
the  scorching  of  their  sparkling  eyes,  so  that  we  may  possesse  at  last 
the  depth  of  their  affections. 
10  Man.  Possesse?  Neuer  doubt  it;  for  Ceres  hath  restored 
Erisicthonj  and  therefore  will  perswade  with  them,  nay,  commaund 
them. 

SiL   If  it  come  by  commaundement  of  Ceres^  not  their  owne 

motions,  I  rather  they  should  hate :  for  what  ioye  can  there  be  in  our 

'5  lines,  or  in  our  loues  sweetnesse,  when  euerie  kisse  shall  bee  sealed 

with  a  curse,  and  euerie  kind  word  proceed  of  feare,  not  affection  ? 

enforcement  is  worse  then  enchantment* 

Ramis.   Art  thou  so  superstitious  in  loue,  that  wast  wont  to  be 
most  carelesse  ?    Let  them  curse  all  day,  so  I  may  haue  but  one 
20  kisse  at  night. 

M(m,  Thou  art  worse  then  Siluestris ;  hee  not  content  without 
absolute  loue,  thou  with  indifferent. 

Sil.  But  here  commeth  Ceres  with  Erisicthon:  let  vs  looke 
demurely ;  for  in  her  heart  shee  hates  vs  deepely. 

ScENA  Vltima. — {The  same,) 

Cupid,  Ceres,  Nymphes,  Erisicthon,  Petulius,  Protea. 

{Enter^  to  the  Foresters,  Ceres  and  Erisichthon.> 

Eris.  I  will  hallow  thy  woods  with  solemne  feastes,  and  honour 
all  thy  Nymphes  with  due  regard* 

Ceres,  Well,  doe  so;  and  thanke  Cupid  that  commands;  nay, 

thanke  my  foolish  Nymphes,  that  know  not  how  to  obey ;  here  be 

5  the  louers  ready  at  receipt.    How  now.  Gentlemen,  what  seeke  you  ? 

Ramis,   Nothing  but  what  Ceres  would  find. 

Ceres.    Ceres  hath  found  those  that  I  would  shee  had  lost,  vaine 

louers. 

Ramis.    Ceres  may  lose  that  that  Cup'd  would  saue,  true  louers. 
10      Ceres.  You  thinke  so  one  of  another. 
Sii.    Cupid  knoweth  so  of  vs  all. 

Ceres.   You  might  haue  made  me  a  counsell  of  your  loues. 
Mbn.   I  madame,  if  loue  would  admit  counsell. 

18  wast  Q  r  was  /;  Scena  Vltima  Q  F. 


V 


328  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [actv^ 

(  The  temple-doors  open, ) 

Ceres.    Cupid,  here  is  Erisicthon  in  his  former  state ;  restore  my 
Nimphs  to  theirs,  then  shal  they  embrace  these  louers,  who  wither  15 
out  their  youth. 

{Enter  Petulius  with  Protea.) 

Eris.   Honoured  bee  mightie  Cupid,  that  makes  me  liue ! 

Pet,    Honoured  bee  mightie  Cupid,  that  makes  me  loue. 

Fro.   And  me ! 

Ceres,    What,  more  louers  yet  ?     I  thinke  it  bee  impossible  for  ao 
Ceres  to  haue  any  follow  her  in  one  hower,  that  is  not  in  loue  in  the 
next 

Cupid.   Erisicthon,  bee  thou  carefuU  to  honour  Ceres^  and  forget 
not  to  please  her  Nymphs.    The  faithful!  loue  of  thy  daughter  Protea, 
hath  wrought  both  pittie  in  me  to  graunt  her  desires,  and  to  release  25 
thy  punishments.     Thou  Petulius  shalt  enioy  thy  loue,  because 
I  know  thee  loyall. 

Pet,   Then  shall  Petulius  be  most  happie. 

Pro,   And  Protea  most  fortunate. 

Cupid.  But  doe  you,  Ramis,  continue  your  constant  loue  ?  and  you,  3^ 
Montanus  ?  and  you,  Siluestris  t 

Ramis,  Nothing  can  alter  our  affections,  which  encrease  while  the 
meanes  decrease^  and  waxe  stronger  in  being  weakened. 

Cupid.   Then,   Venus,  send  downe  that  showre,  wherewith  thou 
wert  wont  to  wash  those  that  doe  thee  worship ;  and  let  loue  by  thy  35 
beames  bee  honoured  in  all  the  world,  and  feared,  wished  for,  and 
wondred  at :  here  are  thy  Nymphs,  Ceres. 

Ramis,   Whome  doe  I  see  ?  Nisa  t 

Mon,   Diuine  Celia,  fairer  than  euer  shee  was ! 

Sil.   My  sweete  Niobe  !  40 

Ceres,  Why  stare  you,  my  Nymphs,  as  amazed?  triumph  rather 
because  you  haue  your  shapes:  this  great  god  Cupid,  that  for 
your  prides  and  follies  changed,  hath  by  my  praier  and  promise 
restored  you. 

Cupid.   You  see.  Ladies,  what  it  is  to  make  a  mocke  of  loue,  or  45 
a  scome  of  Cupid:  see  where  your  louers  stand;  you  must  now 
take  them  for  your  husbands;  this  is  my  iudgement,  this  is  Ceres 
promise. 

Ramis.   Happie  Ramis  ! 

17  line  Q :  loue  /•         18  Pet  Honoured..  • .  loue  om,  F,         25  relase  F. 


sc.iv]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  329 

50     Mon,   Kappie  Montatms  / 
StV.    Happie  Siluesiris  / 

Ceres.   Why  speake  you  not,  Nymphes  ?    This  must  bee  done,  and 
you  must  yeeld. 
Ntsa,  Not  I! 
55     Niobe.  Nor  I ! 
Celia.   Nor  I! 

Ceres,  Not  yeeld?      Then  shal   Cupid  in  his  furie  turne  you 
againe  to  sencelesse  and  shamefull  shapes. 

Cupid,   Will  you  not  yeeld?     How  say  you,  RanUs^    Doo  your 
60  loues  continue?    Are  your  thoughts  constant?  &  yours  Monianus9 
And  yours  Siiuestris  ? 
jRamis.   Mine  most  vnspotted  1 
Mon,   And  mine  I 

SiL   And  mine,  Cupid^  which  nothing  can  alter  I 
65      Cupid.   And  will  you  not  yeeld,  Virgins  ? 

Nisa.  Not  I,  Cupid!  neither  doe  I  thanke  thee  that  I  am 
restored  to  life,  nor  feare  againe  to  be  chaunged  to  stone :  for  rather 
had  I  beene  wome  with  the  continuall  beating  of  wanes,  then  dulled 
with  the  importunities  of  men,  whose  open  flatteries  make  way  to 
70  their  secret  lustes,  retaining  as  little  truth  in  their  hearts  as  modestie 
in  their  words.  How  happie  was  Nisa^  which  felt  nothing ;  pined, 
yet  not  felt  the  consumption !  vnfortunate  wench,  that  now  haue 
eares  to  heare  their  cunning  lies,  and  eyes  to  behold  their  dissembling 
lookes  I  turne  me,  Cupid^  againe,  for  loue  I  will  not  1 
75  Ramis.  Miserable  Ramist  vnhappie  to  loue;  to  chaunge  the 
Ladie,  accurst ;  and  now  lose  her,  desperate  I 

CeUa.  Nor  I,  Cupid:  well  would  I  content  my  selfe  to  bud  in 
the  Summer,  and  to  die  in  the  Winter :  for  more  good  commeth  of 
the  Rose,  then  can  by  loue :  when  it  is  fresh,  it  hath  a  sweete 
80  sauour ;  loue,  a  sowre  taste :  the  Rose,  when  it  is  old,  loseth  not  his 
vertue ;  loue,  when  it  is  stale,  waxeth  loathsome.  The  Rose,  distilled 
with  fire,  yeeldeth  sweete  water:  loue,  in  extremities,  kindles 
iealousies :  in  the  Rose,  how  euer  it  be,  there  is  sweetnes ;  in  loue 
nothing  but  bitternesse.  If  men  looke  pale,  and  sweare,  &  sigh,  then 
85  forsooth  women  must  yeeld,  because  men  say  they  loue,  as  though 
our  hearts  were  tied  to  their  tongues,  and  we  must  chuse  them  by 
appointment,  our  selues   feeling  no  affection,  and  so  haue  our 

60  Are]  And  F,  71 -a  pined  yet,  Q 


330  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  r 

thoughtes  bound  prentises  to  their  word^ :  turne  me  againe.    Yeeld 
I  will  not ! 

Mon.  Which  way  shalt  thou  turne  thy  selfe,  since  nothing  will  90 
turne  her  heart  ?    Die,  MontanuSy  with  shame  and  griefc,  and  both, 
infinite ! 

Niobe.  Nor  I,  Cupid!  let  me  hang  alwayes  in  the  ayre,  which 
I  found  more  constant  then  mens  words :  happie  Niobe^  that  touched 
not  the  ground  where  they  goe,  but  alwayes  holding  thy  beake  in  95 
the  ayre,  didst  neuer  turne  backe  to  behold  the  earth.  In  the 
heauens  I  saw  an  orderly  course^  in  the  earth  nothing  but  dis- 
orderly loue^  and  pieuishnesse :  turne  me  againe,  Cupid,  for  yeeld 
I  will  not ! 

SiL  I  would  my  selfe  were  stone,  flower,  or  fowle ;  seeing  that  100 
Niobe  hath  a  heart  harder  then  stone,  a  face  fairer  then  the  Rose, 
and  a  mind  lighter  then  feathers. 

Cupid,  What  haue  we  here?  Hath  punishment  made  you 
peruerse?  Ceres,  I  vowe  here  by  my  sweete  mother  Venus,  that  if 
they  yeeld  not,  I  will  turne  them  againe,  not  to  flowers,  or  stones,  or  105 
birds,  but  to  monsters,  no  lesse  filthie  to  bee  seene  then  to  bee 
named  hatefull :  they  shall  creepe  that  now  stand,  and  be  to  all  men 
odious,  and  bee  to  themselues  (for  the  mind  they  shall  retaine) 
loathsome. 

Ceres.   My  sweete  Nymphs,  for  the  honor  of  your  sex,  for  the  loue  no 
of  Ceres,  for  regard  of  your  own  countrie,  yeeld  to  loue ;  yeeld,  my 
sweete  Nymphes,  to  sweete  loue. 

Nisa.  Shall  I  yeeld  to  him  that  practised  my  destruction,  and 
when  his  loue  was  hotest,  caused  me  to  bee  chaunged  to  a  rocke  ? 

Ramis.  Nisa,  the  extremitie  of  loue  is  madnesse,  and  to  be  mad  115 
is  to  bee  sencelesse ;  vpon  that  Rocke  did  I  resolue  to  end  my  life  : 
faire  Nisa,  forgiue  him  thy  chaunge,  that  for  himselfe  prouided 
a  harder  chaunce. 

Celia.  Shall  I  yeeld  to  him  that  made  so  small  accompt  of  my 
beautie,  that  he  studied  how  he  might  neuer  behold  it  againe?  120 

Mon.  Faire  Ladie,  in  the  Rose  did  I  alwayes  behold  thy  colour, 
and  resolu'd  by  continuall  gazing  to  perish,  which  I  could  not  doe 
when  thou  wast  in  thine  owne  shape,  thou  wast  so  coy  and  swift  in 
flying  from  me. 

Niabe.  Shall  I  yeeld  to  him  that  caused  me  haue  wings,  that  125 
I  might  flie  farther  from  him  ? 

loz  Niobe]  Nisa  Q  F. 


sciv]  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS  331 

Si/.  Sweete  Niobe^  the  farther  you  did  seeme  to  bee  from  me^  the 
Tieerer  I  was  to  my  death,  which,  to  make  it  more  speedy,  wisht  thee 
wings  to  flie  into  the  ayre,  and  my  selfe  lead  on  my  heeles  to  sinke 
isointo  the  Sea. 

Ceres.  Well,  my  good  Njrmphes,  yeeld;  let  Ceres  intreat  you 
yeeld. 

Nisa,  I  am  content,  so  as  RanUs^  when  hee  finds  me  cold  in  loue, 
or  hard  in  beliefe,  hee  attribute  it  to  his  owne  folly ;  in  that  I  retaine 
135  some  nature  of  the  Rocke  he  chaunged  me  into. 

Ramis.   O,  my  sweete  Nisa  I  bee  what  thou  wilt,  and  let  all  thy 
imperfections  bee  excused  by  me,  so  thou  but  say  thou  louest  me. 
Nisa.  I  doe. 
Ramis.   Yiz^^tRamist 
140      CeHa,  I  consent,  so  as  Montanus^  when  in  the  midst  of  his  sweete 
delight,  (he)  shall  find  some  bitter  ouerthwarts,  impute  it  to  his  folly, 
in  that  he  suffered  me  to  be  a  Rose,  that  hath  prickles  with  her 
pleasantnes,  as  hee  is  like  to  haue  with  my  loue  shrewdnes. 
Mon.  Let  me  bleed  euerie  minute  with  the  prickles  of  the  Rose, 
145  so  I  may  enioy  but  one  hower  the  sauour;  loue,  faire  Celia^  and  at 
thy  pleasure  comfort,  and  confound. 
Celia.   I  doe. 

Mon,   FortunsXt  Mon/anus  / 

Niode.  I  yeelded  first  in  mind  though  it  bee  my  course  last  to 
150  speake :  but  if  Siluestris  find  me  not  euer  at  home,  let  him  curse 
himselfe  that  gaue  me  wings  to  flie  abroad,  whose  feathers  if  his 
iealousie  shall  breake,  my  policie  shall  imp. 

Nan  custodiri,  ni  velit^  vlla  potest 
Si/.   My  sweete  Niode  I  flie  whither  thou  wilt  all  day,  so  I  may  find 
If  5  thee  in  my  nest  at  night,  I  will  loue  thee,  and  beleue  thee. 

A*/  modo^  nonfeci^  dicere  /ingua  memor. 
Cupid.  I  am  glad  you  are  all  agreed ;  enioy  your  loues,  and  euerie 
one  his  delight.  Thou,  Erisict/ton^  art  restored  of  Ceres^  all  the 
louers  pleased  by  Cupid^  shee  ioyfull,  I  honoured.  Now,  Ladies, 
160  I  will  make  such  vnspotted  loue  among  you,  that  there  shall  bee  no 
suspition  nor  iarre,  no  vnkindnesse  nor  iealousie:  but  let  all 
Ladies  heereafter  take  heede  that  they  resist  not  loue,  which  worketh 
wonders. 

Ceres.  I  will  charme  my  Nymphes,  as  they  shall  neither  be  so 
165  stately  as  not  to  stoope  to  loue,  nor  so  light  as  presently  to  yeeld. 

15a  imp]  nip  QF.  155  beleue]  beloue  Q  F.  162  take  om.  F. 


33«  LOUES  METAMORPHOSIS        [act  v,  sa  iv 

Cupid,  Here  is  none  but  is  happie :  but  doe  not  as  Hippotnanes 
did,  when  by  Venus  ayd  bee  wonne  Atlanta^  defile  her  Temple 
with  vnchast  desires,  and  forgot  to  sacrifice  vowes.  I  will  soare  vp 
into  heauen,  to  settle  the  loues  of  the  gods»  that  in  earth  haue 
dispos'd  the  affections  of  men.  170 

Ceres.  I  to  my  haruest,  whose  come  is  now  come  out  of  the  blade 
into  the  eare;  and  let  ali  this  amorous  troupe  to  the  temple  of 
Venus^  there  to  consummate  what  Cupid  hath  commaunded. 

Eris,  Ij  in  the  honour  of  Cupid  and  CereSy  will  solemnize  this 
feast  within  my  house;  and  leame,  if  it  be  not  too  late,  agatne  to  175 
loue.    But  you  Forresters  were  vnkind,  that  in  all  my  maladies  would 
not  visit  me. 

Mon.  Thou  knowest^  Erisicihon^  that  louers  visit  none  but  their 
mistresses. 

,   Eris.  Welly  I  wii  not  take  it  vnkindly,  since  all  ends  in  kind- 180 
nesse. 

Ceres.  Let  it  bee  so : these  louers  mind  nothing  what  we  say. 

Ramis.  Yes,  we  attend  on  Ceres. 

Ceres.  Well,  doe.  Exeunt 


FINIS, 


167  AtalanU  F.  168  forget  F. 


THE  MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS 

(DOUBTFUL) 

EDITIONS 

7%e  Maydes  Metctmorpkcsis,  As  it  hath  hent  smtdrie  times  Acfid  hy  Hki 
CMiidren  of  Pewits,  London :  Jointed  by  Thomas  Creede,  for  Hichard  OHue, 
dwelling  in  kng  Lane,    i6oa    4^ 

Reprinted  in  A  Collection  of  Old  PlaySy  voL  i,  1883,  4*,  pp.  99-164,  with 
IntrodnctioQ  and  Notes  by  A.  H.  Bnllen. 


I  add  here  the  title  of  the  other  play  once  claimed  for  Lyly  (see  below,  p.  334) — 

A  Warning  for  Faire  JVomen,  containing  The  most  Tragicall  amd 
Lameniable  Murther  of  Master  George  Sanders^  of  London^  Manhanty  nigh 
Shooters  Hill ;  consented  unto  by  his  otune  wife,  aeted  by  M.  Browne,  Mistris 
Drewry  and  Trusty  Roger,  agents  therin :  with  thitr  seuermll  ends.  As  it  hath 
beene  lately  diuerse  times  acted  by  the  right  Honorable  the  Lord  Chamberlaine 
his  SeruatUes,  Printed  at  London  by  Valentine  Sims  for  William  Apsley. 
1599.    4°. 

Reprinted  in  The  School  of  Shahs^ere,  yoL  ii,  1878,  8%  with  Introdmction  and 
Notes  by  Richard  Simpson. 


THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

Two  anonymous  plays  were  included  by  Wood  {Athenae  Oxum.,  1691, 
cd.  Bliss,  i.  676)  in  the  list  of  Lyly's  pieces :  l,  A  Warning  for  Faire 
Women^  pub.  1599;  2.  The  Maydes  MetofnorphosiSy  pub.  1600.  The 
assignment  of  the  first  seems  to  have  originated  with  Milton's  nephew, 
Edward  Phillips,  in  his  Theatrum  Poetarum  (1675),  p.  113;  that  of  the 
second  with  William  Winstanley,  Lives  of  the  English  Poets  (1687),  p.  97, 
where,  as  he  mentions  every  play  of  Lyl/s  save  Loves  Metamorphosis, 
it  is  probably  a  mistake  for  the  latter. 

The  first,  though  accepted  by  Winstanley  and  Wood,  was  rejected  by 
langbaine  in  his  English  Dramatick  Poets^  Oxf.,  1691 ;  since  when  the 
attribution  to  Lyly  has  found,  as  it  deserves,  no  support.  The  play, 
a  domestic  tragedy  of  the  type  of  Arden  of  Feversham^  presents,  in  speech 
or  conduct,  no  resemblance  whatever  to  Lyly's  work. 

The  second  appears  to  have  passed  unquestioned  as  Lyl/s  down  to  the 
present  century ;  being  accepted  by  Langbaine,  by  Reed  in  his  continua- 
tion of  Baker*s  Biographia  Dramaticoy  1 782,  and  by  Dilke  in  his  Old 
English  Plays,  18 14,  vol.  i.  p.  201  •  The  first  indication  of  doubt  seems 
to  have  come  from  CoUier,  who  in  his  History  of  Dramatic  Poetry^  iii. 
p.  12,  speaks  of  it  as  <  attributed  doubtfuUy  to  Lyly,'  though  on  an  earlier 
page  (p.  4)  he  acknowledges  that  there  is  *  no  sufficient  reason  to  deprive 
him  of  it,  unless  that  it  is  better  in  some  respects  than  his  other  plays,' 
and  sketches  its  contents  with  some  approval.  But  Fairholt,  in  1858, 
pronounced  decidedly  against  it,  and  rejected  it  from  his  edition  of  the 
plays.  Two  years  later  Bodenstedt  (Shakespear^s  Zeitgenossen  und  ihre 
Werke^  iii.  50)  impugned  his  decision,  but  only  on  the  grounds  of  a 
general  ascription  to  Lyly  and  the  great  likeness  of  the  fairy-songs  to 
others  of  his.  Mr.  Gosse  assigned  it  to  Day,  an  assignment  supported  by 
Mr.  A.  H.  Bullen,  who  reprinted  it  in  his  Collection  of  Old  Plays,  vol.  i. 
l8S2«  Since  then  it  has  been  generally  rejected ;  though  Mr.  Fleay,  in 
1 891,  while  assigning  the  greater  part  of  it  to  Daniel,  considers  the  prose 
bits  (the  boys  Mopso  and  Frisco,  ii.  2,  iii.  2),  and  especially  the  Fairies 
in  il  2| '  almost  certainly  by  Lyly '  {Biog^  Chron.  lu  324)»    Mn  Baker, 


THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  335 

weighing  the  question  in  his  edition  of  Endtmion^  1894*  PP-  dxxvi-ix, 
decides  once  more  against  Lyly's  authorship ;  and  the  balance  of  evidencei 
as  of  modem  opinion,  is  in  my  judgement  quite  with  hinu 

The  Argument  is  briefly  as  follows.  Two  courtiers,  Phylander  and 
Orestes,  charged  by  Duke  Telemachus  to  kill  a  *  mayd  of  meane  discent,* 
Eurymine,  who  is  beloved  by  the  Prince  Ascanio,  after  a  dramatic  reve- 
lation to  her  of  their  purpose  by  means  of  a  feigned  tale,  are  finally  moved 
to  spare  her  on  condition  that  she  conceals  herself.  They  satisfy  the  duke 
by  presenting  him  with  a  kid's  heart  for  hers,  together  with  a  piece  of 
lawn  from  her  dress ;  while  Eurymine,  now  the  object  of  competition 
between  a  forester  and  a  shepherd,  accepts  a  cottage  from  the  one  and 
a  £ock  to  tend  from  the  other.  Ascanio,  after  dispatching  his  comic  page 
Joculo  in  search  of  her,  is  visited  in  sleep,  under  Juno's  direction,  by 
Morpheus  in  the  shape  of  Eurymine,  who  advises  him  to  repair  for 
news  of  her  to  a  certain  hermit.  Meanwhile  the  god  Apollo,  vainly  urging 
on  the  beautiful  shepherdess  his  own  passion^  is  challenged  by  her  to 
prove  his  boasted  deity  by  changing  her  into  a  man,  and,  in  his  anger, 
actually  does  so.  The  hermit,  an  exiled  prince,  Aramanthus,  who  has 
studied  astrology,  informs  Ascanio  that  the  object  of  his  love  is  a  man ; 
but  when  at  length  the  pair  meet,  the  prince  recognizes  Eurymine  notwith- 
standing her  male  dress,  obtains  assurance  of  her  continued  regard^  and 
repsurs  to  the  Graces  to  entreat  their  infercession  with  Apollo,  who  at  last 
consents  to  her  retransformation.  Apollo  further  discovers  to  Aramanthus 
that  Eurymine  is  his  long-lost  daughter ;  while  the  Duke,  relenting,  learns 
the  deception  practised  on  him  and  invites  the  lovers>to  return  to  Court. 
The  pastoral  element  is  supported  by  choruses  led  by^tSemulo  the  shepherd 
and  Silvio  the  ranger ;  while  comic  relief  is  supplied  in  the  intercourse  of 
their  respective  boys,  Mopso  and  Frisco,  with  Joculo  and  with  some 
Fairies,  and  in  the  scene  where  Iris  rouses  Somnus  to  procure  the  vision 
for  Ascanio. 

The  rhymed  heroics  in  which  the  piece  is,  with  the  exception  of  the 
comic  prose  passages,  almost  entirely  composed,  are  not  without  a  share^ 
in  places,  of  lyric  beauty ;  and  the  songs  are  graceful  and  pretty  enough. 

The  following  details  are  suggestive  of  Lyly : — 

Act  i.  I.  56  'within  his  fathers  Court  |  The  Saint  was  shrinde^  (cf. 
Eupk.  i.  215  1.  i). 

Act  i.  1. 229  *  record  '=  remember  (Euph.  i.  303  1.  31,  ii.  25  1. 14, 35 1. 19, 
J85  L  8) ;  iv.  I.  13,  2.  42=*  sing'  {IVoman,  iiL  i.  79,  EupA,  ii.  58  1.  7). 

Act  i.  I.  309  '  I  haue  a  garden  full  of  Bees '  (cf.  Fidus  in  Euph.  ii.  44). 

Act  i.  I,  320  '  Why,  hunting  is  a  pleasure  for  a  King '  (cf.  Mid.  iv,  3, 
5  '  hunting  is  for  kings,  not  peasants '). 

Act  ii.  I.'  62  Joculo's  aside  to  the  audience  (cf.  Gunophilus,  Womafiy 
iii.  2.  208;  Cupid,  Gall,  ii.  2. 13). 

Act  iii.  2.  28  Joculo's  pun  '  a  Kitchen  God,  Pan '  (cf.  Mid.  iv.  i.  61 


336  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS 

'  all  Pan  and  tinkerly ') ;  and  later  in  the  scene  his  pun  on  '  poynts '  {cL 
Call,  i.  4.  42,  ii.  3.  42).  » 

Act  iv.  I.  71  the  making-  the  good  Aramanthas  *  Prince  of  Lesbos  He  * 
(cf.  Midas f  iii.  i.  53,  i v.  2.  31  sqq.). 

Act  V.  I.  1 13  the  musical  reference— the  brook  as  a  bass  to  the  birds* 
voices. 

In  the  conduct  of  the  action,  too,  though  the  reader  will  be  reminded 
most  of  Spenser's  Faerie  Queenej  on  which  the  verse  too  is  often  modelled, 
yet  there  are  several  points  in  which  it  can  be  paralleled  from  Lyly*s 
dramatic  work,  e.  g.  in  the  title  as  compared  with  that  of  Loves  Metamor- 
phosis ;  in  the  use  made  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses  in  regard  to  Somnus 
and  his  three  sons  (ii.  i)  and  Apollo  and  Hyacinth  (iii.  i);  in  the  ima- 
ginary transfer  of  scene  to  Somnus'  cave  (ii.  1. 139-49)  and  its  subsequent 
contradiction  (IL 185-6)  by  the  continued  presence  of  the  sleeping  Ascanio ; 
in  the  successive  exits  at  the  end  of  iii.  2  and  iv.  i,  as  in  Mother  BonUd^y 
ii.  2  and  iL  5  (c£  Sperantus' '  If  all  bee  gone,  He  not  staie'  with  Joculo's 
y  Nay  let  them  go  a  Gods  name,  one  by  one ') ;  in  the  change  effected  in 
the  heroine's  sex,  as  in  Gallathea ;  in  the  vain  suit  of  shepherds  and 
foresters  to  her,  as  in  The  Woman  and  Loves  Metamorphosis ;  in  the  sleep 
of  the  hero  like  that  of  Endimion ;  in  the  appeal  of  the  several  characters 
to  the  wizard  or  astrologer  living  a  hermit's  life  in  a  cave,  like  Cassander, 
or  Sybilla,  or  Mother  Bombie,  and  in  the  considerable  likeness  of  the 
scene  between  Aramanthus  and  the  boys  (iii.  2)  to  that  between  Mother 
Bombie  and  the  wags  in  that  play  (iii.  4) ;  in  the  interview  between  Ara- 
manthus and  Ascanio  (iv.  i),  which  a  little  resembles  that  between  Geron 
and  Eumenides,  while  his  wrapt  absent  manner  at  its  commencement  is 
very  like  that  of  the  Alchemist  and  Astronomer  in  Gailathea ;  in  the 
employment  of  servant-boys  to  make  fun ;  in  the  introduction  of  fairies 
(whose  dialogue  with  the  boys,  as  Bullen  notes,  is  a  little  like  that  of 
Shakespeare's  fairies  with  Bottom) ;  and  in  the  large  intervention  of  the 
classical  deities.  The  last  three  points,  however,  are  fairly  common  by 
1596  or  1600^;  while  the  others,  though  characteristic  of  Lyly,  may 
nevertheless  indicate  some  younger  playwright,  familiar  with  the  work  o£ 
previous  years.  The  conduct  of  the  opening  scene  and  of  that  where 
ApoUo  changes  Eurymine  have,  for  me,  an  abruptness  and  direct  force 
wholly  foreign  to  Lyly's  manner  or  genius  ;  while  Aramanthus' connexion 
with  Eurymine  is  more  lamely  and  casually  treated  than  it  would  have 
been  in  his  hands.  The  pastoral  contains  no  compliments  to  Elizabeth ;. 
and  the  recourse  to  the  demodd  vehicle  of  the  rhymed  couplet  seems 
unlikely  in  one  who  had  written  such  good  blank  verse  as  is  to  be  found 

^  Jocnlo's  remark  in  iv.  i.  157  'Maister  be  contented,  this  is  leape  yeare,* 
may  suggest  one  or  other  of  these  years  as  that  of  the  play's  original  production, 
or  may  have  been  added  on  Lyly's  revival  of  it  in  1600,  to  which  date  *•  1599 '  of 
the  Table  (vol.  ii,  p.  230}  should  perhaps  be  altered. 


THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  337 

in  The  Woman  in  the  Mo&ne,  It  is  true  that  Lyly,  in  the  Prologue  to 
The  IVonum^  had  spoken  of  writing  another  verse-play ;  but,  if  this  is  the 
fulfilment  of  the  promise,  why  does  his  name  not  appear  on  the  title-page, 
as  on  those  of  The  Woman,  1597,  and  Loves  Metamorphosis ,  1601  ? 

So  &r  as  the  actual  verse  is  concerned  little  argument  can  be  drawn 
from  the  disappearance  of  the  peculiar  '  mechanical  devices '  of  Lyly's 
style.  Absent  from  the  blank  verse  of  The  Woman^  they  would  still 
more  naturally  be  absent  from  a  novel  experiment  in  rhymed  heroics* 
But  in  the  matter  and  sentiment,  as  apart  from  the  conduct  of  the  action, 
I  find  nothing  specially  characteristic  of  him  beyond  the  few  faint  echoes 
cited  above :  and  the  general  texture  of  the  verse  appears  to  me  too  thin 
and  slight,  and  sometimes  too  prosy  and  obvious,  in  spite  of  Spenserian 
passages  of  poetic  merit,  to  be  the  product  of  Lyly's  brain  ^— even  the  songs 
are  too  simfde  and  spontaneous,  too  artless,  for  him;  though  I  should 
admit  the  possibility  of  his  authorship  of  the  Fairies'  songs  in  Act  ii,  of  the 
duet  between  Gemulo  and  Silvio  in  Act  iv,  and  of  the  closing  song  in 
Act  V.  But  in  the  two  prose-scenes  between  Joculo,  Mopso  and  Frisco 
(iL  2,  iil  2)  I  do  feel  that  there  is  a  sufficient  likeness,  a  siufficient  amount 
of  antithesis  and  word-play»  to  make  his  late  authorship  of  these  possible ; 
though  I  am  by  no  means  sure  that  there  is  more  than  might  easily  be 
acquired  by  a  young  playwright  imitating  a  popular  predecessor,  and  I  do 
not  think  it  very  probable  that  one  in  Lyly's  rather  distinct  position  would 
be  found  collaborating  at  all.  They  might,  however,  be  added  by  him  on 
the  occasion  of  his  coaching  the  Paul's  Boys  in  the  performance  of  the 
play,  in  1599  or  i6oa 

Disbelieving,  then,  in  his  authorship  of  the  whole,  and  admitting  only 
a  possibility  of  his  authorship  of  the  two  prose-scenes,  ii.  2  (containing  the 
Fairies)  and  iii.  2  (with  its  considerable  resemblance  to  iii.  4  of  Mother 
Bomhie),  and  perhaps  of  the  duet  in  Act  iv  and  the  closing  song  of  Act  v, 
I  have  decided  to  print  the  play  in  a  category  apart  as  *  doubtful,'  that 
the  reader  may  be  able  to  verify  all  that  is  here  said  and  judge  for 
him8e]£ 

Mr.  Fleay  (Biograph,  Chronicle,  ii.  324)  says  '  the  style  of  most  of  the 
play  is  just  that  of  Daniel's  earlier  dramatic  work.'  Now  Daniel's  earliest 
dramatic  works  were  the  strict  Senecan  tragedies  Cleopatra  and  Philotas, 
pub.  1594  and  1605  respectively,  in  verse  rhymed  for  the  most  part  alter- 
nately, not  in  couplets,  and  far  stronger,  more  regular,  of  a  n\ore  ethical 
and  intellectualized  cast  than  is  that  of  the  Maydes  Metamorphosis,  which 
is  written  and  conducted  throughout  in  the  freer  spirit  of  the  Romantic 
drama.  Also,  Mr.  Fleay  urges,  in  1604  Daniel  published  The  Vision  of 
the  Twelve  Goddesses,  in  which  Juno,  Iris  and  Somnus  are  introduced 
as  in  ii.  I  of  M.  M,,  and  'some  of  the  very  words  are  repeated.' 

*  The  tameness,  however,  of  some  of  the  verse  in  my  lately-identiBed  Enter- 
tainmcnts  as  well  as  in  the  Poems,  weakens  the  force  of  this  argument 

SOMD  UI  Z 


338  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS 

For  particular  expressions,  however,  affording  ground  for  comparison, 
i  look  in  vain ;  nor  could  anything  be  farther  from  the  dignified 
conduct  and  diction  of  Daniel's  Vision  than  the  comic  or  serio-comic 
treatment  of  Juno,  Iris  and  Somnus  in  M,  M,  Mr.  Fleay  rightly  urges 
that  the  Prologue  of  M,  M,  is  more  appropriate  to  some  private  occa- 
sion like  a  wedding  than  to  a  public  audience ;  but  the  line  of  Daniel's 
first  sonnet  from  which  he  says  'Then  to  the  boundlesse  Ocean  of 
your  woorth/  Prol.  1.  9,  is  taken,  really  runs  *  Unto  the  boundless  ocean 
of  thy  beauty' ;  and  the  mere  fact  that  at  the  end  of  the  play  the  Muses 
dance  to  Apollo's  music  is  certainly  not  sufficient  to  identify  it  with  the 
masque  performed  at  the  wedding  of  Lord  Herbert  with  Anne  Russell 
on  June  16,  1600,  where  Muses  did  the  same  thing  \  Some  general 
likeness,  however,  may  be  admitted  between  our  play  and  Daniel's  Vision^ 
which,  further,  carries  something  of  the  same  sense  of  being  written  by 
one  influenced  by  Lyly's  work  \ 

Mr.  Gosse  and  Mr.  Bullen  pronounce  for  Day's  authorship;  and 
Mr.  Bullen,  Day's  editor  in  188 1,  cites  a  parallel  in  his  Humour  out  of 
Breath  for '  the  merciless  harrying  of  the  word  kind^  at  the  beginning  of 
Act  V,  and  in  Law  Trickes,  v.  i,  for  the  echo-scene  in  iv.  i  of  our  play, 
while  he  considers  '  the  amoebaean  rhymes  between  Gemulo  and  Silvio 
(Act  i)  in  their  sportive  quaintness,  as  like  Day's  handiwork  as  they  are 
unlike  Lyly's.'  Mr.  Bullen  here,  and  still  more  in  his  Introduction  to 
I^^Yi  P-  33i  is  somewhat  less  than  just  to  Lyiy ;  but,  putting  that  aside, 
one  may  acknowledge  that  the  general  style  of  The  Maydes  Metamorphosis 
is  more  like  Day.  Day,  when  he  wrote  verse,  generally  chose  the  rhymed 
couplet,  which  there  is  no  instance  of  Lyly's  using :  and  the  chief  metrical 
characteristics  of  this  play,  (i)  a  noticeable  carelessness  about  the  rhymes 
chosen ;  (2)  the  frequent  leaving  of  a  line  unrhymed  in  the  middle  of 
a  rhymed  passage ;  (3)  a  tendency  to  run  into  twelve  syllables  ',  and  espe« 
cially  to  do  this  where  the  line  is  divided  between  two  characters,  e.  g.  iii. 

^  See  however  above,  vol.  i.  p.  381  note,  where  I  have  followed  Fleay  so  far  as 
to  suppose  that  our  play  may  have  been  given  on  the  Tuesday  or  Wednesday 
night  of  the  same  occasion,  and  that  the  last  line  of  the  Epilogue  may  refer  to  the 
masque  of  the  preceding  Monday  night,  June  16. 

'  The  Vision  was  composed  as  a  masque,  and  represented  January  8,  1604-5, 
not  1603-4  **  Fleay  asserts  {Biog,  Chrofu  i.  90).  Before  the  end  of  Jan.  an 
unauthorized  quarto  without  author  s  name  was  issued  by  £dw.  Allde,  with  title  The 
Troe  Discription  of  a  Royall  Masque,  Presented  at  Hampton  Courts  vpon  Sunday 
nighty  heing  the  eight  of  January ^  1604.  And  Personated  by  the  Queenes  most 
J^xcellent  Majestie^  eUtended  by  Eleuen  Ladies  of  Honour  London  Printed  by 
Edward  Allde,  and  are  to  be  solde  at  the  LongShoppe,  adjoyning  imto  S.  Mildreds 
Church  in  the  Poultrye  1^60)4.  (3  copies  are  in  the  Br.  Mus.),  which  compelled 
Daniel  to  issue  a  correct  ed.  in  8vo  entitled  The  Vision  of  the  Twelve  Goddesses 
presented  in  a  masque  at  Hampton  Court,  the  8  of  January  ^  ^c.  Printed  by 
T,  C.for  Simon  fVeUerson,  1604.  A  copy  exists  in  the  Bodleian.  See  £.  Law's 
ed.  of  the  4<>  of  1623,  (1880),  Introd.  pp.  49-50. 

'  Instances  su«  not  unknown  in  Lyly,  e.g.  vol.  i.  479  1. 15  and  Woman,  iv.  i.  24^ 


THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  339 

I*  7^9  79f  ^3)  131 ;  iv.  2. 91 ;  v.  1.42 ;  (4)  a  certain  confusion  or  misappre- 
hension in  the  use  of  double-rhymes,  e.  g.  iii.  i.  21-2,  178-9  ;  iv.  2.  65-6 
(cf.  Day's  Parliament  of  Bees y  p.  49,  *A  pirate*  with  *hate');  are  all 
paralleled  in  Day's  work '.  In  Day's  Law  Trickes  there  is  a  page  named 
Joculo :  in  The  He  of  Gvls  a  gprl  named  Mopsa.  The  resemblances  to 
Lyly's  work  in  the  conduct  of  The  Maydes  Metamorphosis  may  be  refer- 
able to  a  conscious  or  unconscious  imitation  by  Day  of  the  older  dramatist, 
of  his  familiarity  with  whose  work  I  can  point  to  two  rather  striking 
instances,  (i)  Law  Trickes ^  iii.  p.  41, '  doost  see  Vulcan  with  the  homing 
parenthesis  in  his  forehead,'  a  joke  inexplicable  save  by  reference  to  that 
of  the  smith  Calypho  in  Sapho  and  Phao,  iiL  2.  47  sqq. ;  (2)  The  lie  of 
Gvlsy  ii.  I.  p.  48,  Violetta's  remarks  about  'maydenhead'  are  exactly 
parallel  to  Pipenetta's  song  on  the  same  subject  in  Midas ^  v.  2.  p.  154 : — 

'  But  in  the  allowd  opinion  of  most, 
Tis  nener  traly  had  till  it  be  lost. 


And  in  my  dreame  me  thought  twas  too  mnch  wrong 
A  prettie  maid  should  lie  alone  so  long.' 

On  the  whole,  then,  without  feeling  quite  convinced,  I  am  content  to 
acquiesce  in  the  view  that  this  play  is  an  early  work  by  that  author, 
probably  touched  and  added  to  by  Lyly  in  the  course  of  his  rehearsal  of 
it  with  the  Paul's  Boys  in  1599  or  1600. 

I  reprint  it  literatim  et  punctuoHm  from  the  quarto,  using  conical 
brackets  for  one  or  two  trifling  additions,  and  appending  the  quarto 
reading  in  a  footnote  in  the  few  cases  where  I  have  emended  the  text. 
A  number  of  explanatory  or  illustrative  notes,  some  from  Mr.  Bullen,  will 
be  found  at  the  end,  though  I  have  not  treated  the  play  quite  so  elabo- 
rately as  those  in  which  Lyly's  hand  is  undoubted. 

*  Instances  in  Lyly  are  vol.  i.  476  11.  30-1 ;  483  IL  3-4 ;  468  11.  7-8. 


Z    2 


THE' 
MaydcsMctamors 

phofis. 


^tilh/tthhmejmJTietmts  AM 
1}  lie  cMrntftmlii, 


LONDON 

Printed  by  Thomas  Creede,  for  Richard 

Oliue,  dwdh  ng  in  long  Lane. 

1600. 


The  Prologue 

^T^He  fnanifold  great  /(Btuours  we  haue  found, 
By  you,  to  vs  poore  weaklings  still  extended: 

Whereof  your  vertues  haue  bene  only  ground. 

And  no  desert  in  vs  to  be  so  friended: 

Bindes  vs  some  way  or  other  to  expresse,  5 

(Though  all  our  all  be  else  defeated  quite 

Of  any  meanes)  saue  duteous  thankefulnes. 

Which  is  the  vtmost  measure  of  our  might : 

Then  to  the  boundlesse  Ocean  of  your  woorth. 

This  little  drop  of  water  we  present:  10 

Where  though  it  neuer  can  be  singled  foorth. 

Let  zeale  be  pleader  far  our  good  intent. 

Drops  not  diminish,  but  encrease  great  floods: 
And  mites  impaire  not,  but  augment  our  goods. 


The    Maydes  Metamor- 
phosis. 

(ACT  l.> 

< Scene  I.) 

Enter  Phylander^  Orestes ^  Eurymine. 

Eurymine. 

T^Hylander^  and  Orestes ^  what  conceyt 

Troubles  your  silent  mindes?    Let  me  intreat 

Since  we  are  come  thus  farre,  as  we  do  walke 

You  would  deuise  some  prettie  pleasant  talke: 

The  aire  is  coole,  the  euening  high  and  faire,  5 

Why  should  your  cloudie  lookes,  then  shew  dispaire? 
Phy.  Beleeue  me  (aire  Eurtmine,  my  skill 

Is  simple  in  discourse,  and  vtterance  ill: 

Orestes  if  he  were  disposde  to  trie, 

Can  better  manage  such  affaires  than  I.  lo 

Eu,  Why  then  Orestes  let  me  craue  of  you 

Some  olde,  or  late  done  story  to  renew: 

Another  time  you  shall  request  of  me 

As  good,  if  not,  a  greater  curtesie. 
Or,  Trust  me  as  now  (nor  can  I  shew  a  reason)  15 

All  mirth  vnto  my  mind  comes  out  of  season : 

For  inward  I  am  troubled  in  such  sort, 

As  all  vnfit  I  am  to  make  report 

Of  any  thing  may  breed  the  least  delight, 

Rather  in  teares,  I  wish  the  day  were  night:  20 

For  neither  can  my  selfe  be  merry  now. 

Nor  treat  of  ought  that  may  be  likte  of  you. 
Eu.  Thats  but  your  melancholike  old  disease. 

That  neuer  are  disposde  but  when  ye  please. 
Ph.  Nay  mistresse,  then  since  he  denies  the  taske  25 

My  selfe  will  strait  (ac)compl]sh  what  ye  aske: 

And  though  the  pleasure  in  my  tale  be  small, 

Yet  may  it  serue  to  pass  the  time  withalL 


344  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  i 

Eu,  Thanks  good  Phylander,  when  you  please  say  on, 

Better  I  deeme  a  bad  discourse,  then  none.  30 

Phy.  Sometime  there  liu'd  a  Duke  not  far  from  hence, 

Mightie  in  fame,  and  vertues  exceUence, 

Subiects  he  had,  as  readie  to  obey 

As  he  to  rule:  beloued  euery  way^ 

But  that  which  most  of  all  he  gloried  in,  35 

(Hope  of  his  age,  and  comfort  of  his  kin,) 

Was  the  fruition  of  one  onely  sonne, 

A  gallant  youth,  inferior  vnto  none 

For  vertue,  shape,  or  excellence  of  wit, 

That  after  him  vpon  his  throne  might  sit  40 

This  youth  when  once  he  came  to  perfect  age, 

The  Duke  would  faine  haue  linckt  in  marris^^e 

With  diuers  dames  of  honourable  blood. 

But  stil  his  fathers  purpose  he  withstood. 
Eu.  How,  was  he  not  of  mettal  apt  to  loue  ?  45 

Phy,  Yes  apt  enough,  as  wil  the  sequel  proue. 

But  so  the  streame  of  his  affection  lay, 

As  he  did  leane  a  quite  contrary  way, 

Disprouing  still  the  choyce  his  father  made, 

And  (^tentimes  the  matter  had  delaid:  50 

Now  giuing  hope  he  would  at  length  consent. 

And  tlien  again,  excusing  his  intent 
Eu.  What  made  hun  so  repugnant  in  his  deeds? 
Phy,  Another  loue,  which  this  disorder  breeds  : 

For  euen  at  home  within  his  Others  Court  55 

The  Saint  was  shrinde,  whom  he  did  honor  most: 

A  louely  dame,  a  virgin  pure  and  chaste. 

And  worthy  of  a  Prince  to  be  imbrac'te. 

Had  but  her  birth  (which  was  obscure  they  said) 

Answerd  her  beautie,  this  their  opinion  staid.  60 

Yet  did  this  wilful  youth  affect  her  still. 

And  none  but  she  was  mistres  of  his  will 

Full  often  did  his  father  him  disswade. 

From  liking  such  a  mean  and  low  borne  mayde. 

The  more  his  father  stroue  to  change  his  minde,  65 

The  more  the  sonne  became  with  fancy  blinde. 
Eu.  Alas,  how  sped  the  silly  Louers  then  ? 
Phy,  As  might  euen  grieue  the  rude  vnciuePst  men. 

When  herevpon  to  weane  his  fixed  heart 

From  such  dishonour,  to  his  high  desert,  70 

The  Duke  had  labourd,  but  in  vaine  did  striue. 

Thus  he  began  his  purpose  to  contriue: 


sc.  i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  345 

Two  of  his  seruants  of  vndoubted  troth, 

He  bound  by  vertue  of  a  solemne  oath, 

To  traine  the  silly  damzel  out  of  sight,  75 

And  there  in  secret  to  bereaue  her  quite 
Eu,  Of  what,  her  life  ? 
Phy.  Yes  Madame  of  her  life, 

Which  was  the  cause  of  all  the  former  strife. 
Eu^  And  did  they  kill  her? 
Phy.  You  shall  heare  anon  : 

The  question  first  must  be  discided  on  80 

In  your  opinion,  whats  your  iudgement  ?  say. 

Who  were  most  cruell :  those  that  did  obay, 

Or  he  that  gaue  commandment  for  the  &ct? 
Eu,  In  each  of  them  it  was  a  bloody  act : 

Yet  they  deserue  (to  speake  my  mind  of  both)  85 

Most  pardon,  that  were  bound  thereto  by  oath. 
Phy,  It  is  enough,  we  do  accept  your  doome. 

To  passe  vnblam*d,  what  ere  of  you  become. 
Eu,  To  passe  vnblamde,  what  ere  become  of  me  ? 

What  may  the  meaning  of  these  speeches  be  ?  90 

Phy,  Eurymine^  my  trembling  tongue  doth  fSaile, 

My  conscience  yrkes,  my  fainting  sences  quaile: 

My  faltring  speech  bewraies  my  guiltie  thought, 

And  stammers  at  the  message  we  haue  brought. 
Eu.  Ay  me,  what  horror  doth  inuade  my  brest  ?  95 

Or.  Nay  then  Phy lander  I  will  tell  the  rest. 

Damzell  thus  fares  thy  case,  demand  not  why. 

You  must  forthwith  prepare  your  selfe  to  dye. 

Therefore  dispatch,  and  set  your. mind  at  rest. 
Eu,  Phylcmder  is  it  true?  or  doth  he  iest?  loo 

Phy,  There  is  no  remedie  but  you  must  dye: 

By  you  I  framde  my  tragicke  history. 

The  Duke  my  maister,  is  the  man  I  meant, 

His  Sonne,  the  Prince,  the  mayd  of  meane  discent 

Your  selfe,  on  whom  Ascanio  so  doth  doate,  105 

As  for  no  reason  may  remoue  his  thought: 

Your  death  the  Duke  determines  by  vs  two. 

To  end  the  loue  betwixt  his  sonne  and  you: 

And  for  that  cause  we  trainde  you  to  this  wood, 

Where  you  must  sacrifice  your  dearest  blood.  no 

Eur,  Respect  my  teares. 

Orest,  We  must  regard  our  oath. 

Eur,  My  tender  yeares. 
Or,  They  are  but  trifles  both. 


346  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  l 

Eu.  Mine  innocency. 

Or.  That  would  our  promise  breake. 

Dispatch  forthwith,  we  may  not  heare  you  speake* 
Eu.  If  neither  teares  nor  innocency  moue,  ti5 

Yet  thinke  there  is  a  heauenly  power  aboue. 
Orest,  A  done,  and  stand  not  preaching  here  all  day. 
Eu,  Then  since  there  is  no  remedie,  I  pray 
Yet  good  my  maisters,  do  but  stay  so  long 

Till  I  haue  tane  my  farewell  with  a  song,  1 20 

Of  him  whom  I  shall  neuer  see  againe. 
Phy.  We  will  affoord  that  respit  to  your  paine. 
Eu,  But  least  the  feare  of  death  appall  my  mind, 
Sweet  gentlemen  let  me  this  fauour  find. 

That  you  wil  vale  mine  eye-sight  with  this  scarfe :  125 

That  when  the  fatall  stroke  is  aymde  at  me, 
I  may  not  start,  but  suffer  patiently. 
Orest.  Agreed,  gpue  me,  He  shadow  ye  from  feare, 

If  this  may  do  it 
Eu,  Oh  I  would  it  might 

But  shadowes  want  the  power  to  do  that  right  130 

Shee  sings. 
Ye  sacred  Fyres,  and  powers  aboue, 
Forge  of  desires  working  loue, 
Cast  downe  your  eye,  east  downe  your  eye 
Vpon  a  Mayde  in  miserie. 

My  sacrifice  is  louers  blood:  135 

And  from  eyes  salt  teares  a  flood: 
All  which  I  spend,  all  which  I  spend 
For  thee  Ascanio^  my  deare  friend : 
And  though  this  houre  I  must  feele 
The  bitter  sower  of  pricking  Steele,  140 

Yet  ill  or  well,  yet  ill  or  well 
To  thee  Ascanio  still  farewell. 
Orestes  offers  to  strike  her  with  his  Rapier^  and  is  stayed 

by  Phy  lander* 
Or  est.  What  meanes  Phy lander^ 
Phy.  Oh  forbeare  thy  stroke, 

Her  piteous  mone  and  gesture  might  prouoke 

Hard  flints  to  ruthe.  145 

Orest.  Hast  thou  forgot  thy  oath? 
Phy,  Forgot  it?  na 

Or,  Then  wherfore  doest  thou  interrupt  me  so? 
Phy.  A  sudden  terror  ouercomes  my  thought 
Or,  ThS  sufler  me,  that  stands  in  fear  of  nought. 


sc.i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  347 

Phy.  Oh  hold  Orestes^  heare  my  reason  first.  150 

Or,  Is  all  religion  of  thy  vowe  forgot  ? 

Do  as  thou  wilt,  but  I  forget  it  not. 
Phy,  Orestes^  if  thou  standst  vpon  thine  oath. 

Let  me  alone,  to  answere  for  vs  both. 
On  What  answer  canst  thou  giue?    I  wil  not  stay.  155 

Phy.  Nay  villain,  then  my  sword  shall  make  me  way. 
Or.  Wilt  thou  in  this,  against  thy  conscience  striue? 
Phy,  I  will  defend  a  woman  while  I  Hue. 

A  virgin,  and  an  innocent  beside, 

Therefore  put  vp,  or  else  thy  chaunce  abide.  160 

Or.  He  neuer  sheath  my  sword,  vnles  thou  show, 

Our  oath  reserued,  we  may  let  her  go. 
Phy.  That  will  I  do,  if  truth  may  be  of  force. 
Or,  And  then  wil  I  be  pleasd  to  graunt  remorse. 
Eu.  Litle  thought  I  when  out  of  doore  I  went,  165 

That  thus  my  life  should  stand  on  argument. 
Phy.  A  lawfull  oath  in  an  vnlawfuU  cause. 

Is  first  dispenc't  withall,  by  reasons  lawes: 

Then  next,  respect  must  to  the  end  be  had, 

Because  th'  intent,  doth  make  it  good  or  bad.  170 

Now  here  th'  intent  is  murder  as  thou  seest. 

Which  to  performe,  thou  on  thy  oath  reliest: 

But  since  the  cause  is  wicked  and  vniust, 

Th'  effect  must  likewise  be  held  odious. 

We  swore  to  kill,  and  God  forbids  to  kill :  175 

Shall  we  be  rulde  by  him,  or  by  mans  will? 

Beside  it  is  a  woman  is  condemde: 

And  what  is  he  that  is  a  man  indeed, 

That  can  endure  to  see  a  woman  bleed  ? 
Or.  Thou  hast  preuaild,  Eurymine  stand  vp,  180 

I  will  not  touch  thee  for  a  world  of  gold. 
Phy.  Why  now  thou  seemst  to  be  of  humane  mould. 

But  on  our  graunt  faire  mayd  that  you  shall  Hue, 

Will  you  to  vs  your  faithfuU  promise  giue. 

Henceforth  t'abandon  this  your  Country  quite,  185 

And  neuer  more  retume  into  the  sight 

Of  fierce  Telemachus^  the  angry  Duke, 

Whereby  we  may  be  voyd  of  all  rebuke  ? 
Eur.  Here  do  I  plight  my  chaste  vnspotted  hand, 

I  will  abiure  this  most  accursed  land :  190 

And  vow  henceforth  what  fortune  ere  betide. 

Within  these  woods  and  desarts  to  abide. 

16s  I"]  &  G 


348  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [acti 

Phy,  Now  wants  there  nothing,  but  a  fit  excuse, 

To  sooth  the  Duke,  in  his  conceiu*d  abuse: 

That  he  may  be  perswaded  she  is  slaine,  195 

And  we  our  wonted  fauour  still  maintaine. 
OresL  It  shall  be  thus,  within  a  Lawne  hard  by, 

Obscure  with  bushes,  where  no  humane  eye, 

Can  any  way  discouer  our  deceite: 

There  feeds  a  heard  of  Goates,  and  country  neate.  200 

Some  Ktdde,  or  other  youngling,  will  we  take, 

And  with  our  swords  dispatch  it  for  her  sake. 

And  hauing  slaine  it,  rip  his  panting  breast, 

And  take  the  heart  of  the  vnguiltie  beast : 

Which  to  th'intent,  our  counterfeit  report  305 

May  seeme  more  likely,  we  will  beare  to  court: 

And  there  protest  with  bloody  weapons  drawne. 

It  was  her  heart. 
Phy.  Then  likewise  take  this  Lawne, 

Which  well  Telettuichus  did  know  she  wore: 

And  let  it  be  all  spotted  too  with  gore.  210 

How  say  you  mistress^,  will  you  spare  that  vale? 
Eur,  That  or  what  else,  to  verifie  your  tale: 

And  thankes  Phylander^  and  Orestes  both. 

That  you  preseme  me  from  a  Tyrants  wroth. 
Phy.  I  would  it  were  within  my  power,  I  wis,  215 

To  do  you  greater  curtesie  then  this : 

But  what  we  cannot  by  our  deeds  expresse 

In  heart  we  wish  to  ease  your  heauinesse. 
Eur.  A  double  debt,  yet  one  word  ere  ye  go, 

Commmend  me  to  my  deare  Ascanioi  220 

Whose  loyall  loue,  and  presence  to  foigoe. 

Doth  gall  me  more  then  all  my  other  woe. 
Orest.  Our  Hues  shall  neuer  want  to  do  him  good. 
Phy,  Nor  yet  our  death,  if  he  in  daunger  stood : 

And  mistresse,  so  good  fortune  be  your  guide.  22$ 

Or,  And  ought  that  may  be  fortunate  beside. 

(Exeunt. 
Eu,  The  like  I  wish  vnto  your  selues  againe: 

And  many  happie  dayes  deuoyd  of  paine. 

And  now  Eurymine  record  thy  state, 

So  much  delected,  and  opprest  by  fate:  230 

What  hope  remaines?  wherein  hast  thou  to  ioy? 

Wherein  to  tryumph,  but  thine  owne  annoy? 

If  euer  wretch  might  tell  of  miserie. 

Then  I  alas,  poore  I,  am  only  she: 


sc  i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  349 

Vnknowne  of  parents,  destitute  of  friends,  235 

Hopeful!  of  nought,  but  what  misfortune  sends. 

Banisht,  to  Hue  a  fiigitiue  alone, 

In  vncoth  paths,  and  regions  neuer  knowne. 

Behold  AscaniOy' ioT  thy  only  sake. 

These  tedious  trauels  I  must  vndertake:  240 

Nor  do  I  grudge,  the  paine  seemes  lesse  to  mee, 

In  that  I  suffer  this  distresse  for  thee. 

Enter  Siluio^  a  Raunger. 
SiL  Wei  met  fair  Nymph,  or  Goddesse  if  ye  bee : 

Tis  straunge  me  thinkes,  that  cme  of  your  degree 

Should  walk  these  solitary  groues  alone.  245 

Eu.  It  were  no  maruell  if  you  knew  my  mone. 

But  what  are  you  that  question  me  so  far? 
SiL  My  habit  telles  you  that,  a  Forrester: 

That  hauing  lost  a  heard  of  skittish  Deere, 

Was  of  good  hope,  I  should  a  found  them  heere.  250 

Eu,  Trust  me,  I  saw  not  any,  so  farewell. 
SU,  Nay  stay :  and  further  of  your  fortunes  tell : 

I  am  not  one  that  meanes  you  any  harme. 

Enter  Gemulo  the  shepheard. 
Ge,  I  thinke  my  Boy  be  fled  away  by  charme. 

Raunger  well  met:   within  thy  walke  I  pray,  255 

Sawst  thou  not  Mopso^  my  vnhappie  Boy? 
SU.  Shepheard  not  I,  what  meanst  to  seeke  him  here? 
Ge.  Because  the  wagge,  possest  with  doubtfull  feare. 

Least  I  would  beate  him  for  a  fault  he  did: 

Amongst  those  Trees,  I  do  suspect  hees  hid.  260 

But  how  now  Raunger?  you  mistake  I  trowe. 

This  is  a  Lady,  and  no  barren  Dowe. 
SiL  It  is  indeede,  and  as  it  seemes,  distrest, 

Whose  griefe  to  know,  I  humbly  made  request: 

But  she  as  yet  will  not  reueale  the  same.  265 

Ge,  Perhaps  to  me  she  will:  speak  gentle  dame? 

What  daunger  great  hath  driuen  ye  to  this  place? 

Make  knowne  your  state,  and  looke  what  slender  grace, 

A  Shepheards  poore  abilitie  may  yeeld. 

You  shall  be  sure  of,  ere  I  leaue  the  feeld.  270 

Eur,  Alas  good  Sir,  the  cause  may  not  be  knowne, 

That  hath  inforste  me  to  be  here  alone. 
Sil,   Nay  feare  not  to  discouer  what  you  are: 

It  may  be  we  may  remedie  your  care. 

356  Mopso]  Moyso  Q 


I 


350  THE   MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [acti 

Eu.  Since  needs  you  will,  that  I  renew  my  griefe,  275 

Whether  it  be  my  chance  to  finde  reliefe 

Or  not,  I  wreake  not :  such  my  crosses  are, 

As  sooner  /expect  to  meete  dispaire. 

Then  thus  it  is:  not  farre  from  hence  do  dwell 

My  parents,  of  the  world  esteemed  well :  280 

Who  with  their  bitter  threats,  my  graut  had  won. 

This  day  to  marrie  with  a  neighbours  son. 

And  such  a  one,  to  whom  I  should  be  wife, 

As  /  could  neuer  fancie  in  my  life. 

And  therefore  to  auoyd  that  endlesse  thrall,  285 

This  mome  I  came  away  and  left  them  all. 
SiL  Now  trust  me  virgin,  they  were  much  vnkind. 

To  seeke  to  match  you  so  against  your  minde. 
Ge,  It  was  beside,  vnnaturall  constraint: 

But  by  the  tenure  of  your  iust  complaint,  290 

It  seemes  you  are  not  minded  to  retume. 

Nor  any  more  to  dwell  where  you  were  borne. 
Eu,  It  is  my  purpose,  if  I  might  obtaine 

A  place  of  refuge  where  I  might  remaine. 
SiL  Why  go  with  me,  my  Lodge  is  not  far  off,  295 

Where  you  shall  haue  such  hospitalitie 

As  shall  be  for  your  health  and  safetie. 
Ge,  Soft  Raunger,  you  do  raunge  beyond  your  skill. 

My  house  is  nearer:  and  for  my  good  will, 

It  shall  exceed  a  woodmans  woodden  stufTe :  300 

Then  go  with  me,  He  keep  you  safe  enough. 
SiL  He  bring  her  to  a  bower  beset  with  greene. 
Ge.  And  I  an  arbour,  may  delight  a  Queene* 
SiL  Her  dyet  shalbe  Venson  at  my  boord. 

Ge.  Yong  Kid  and  Lambe,  we  shepheards  can  affoord.  305 

5/7.  And  nothing  else? 
Ge.  Yes,  raunging  now  and  then, 

A  Hog,  a  Goose,  a  Capon,  or  a  Hen. 
Sil,  These  walkes  are  mine,  amongst  the  shadie  trees. 
Ge,  For  that  I  haue,  a  garden  full  of  Bees, 

Whose  buzing  musick  with  the  flowers  sweet,  310 

Each  euen  and  morning,  shall  her  sences  greet. 
SiL  The  Nightingale  is  my  continuall  clocke. 
Ge,  And  mine  the  watchfull,  sin-remembring  cocke. 
SiL  A  hunts  vp,  I  can  tune  her  with  my  hounds. 
Ge,  And  I  can  shew  her  meads,  and  fruitfull  grounds.  315 

SiL  Within  these  woods  are  many  pleasant  springs. 
Ge*  Betwixt  yond  dales,  the  Eccho  daily  sings. 


sc.  i]  THE   MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  351 

Si/.  I  maruell  that  a  rusticke  shepheard  dare 

With  woodmen  thus  a&daciously  compare? 

Why,  hunting  is  a  pleasure  for  a  King,  320 

And  Gods  themselues  sometime  frequent  the  thing. 

Diana  with  her  bowe  and  arrowes  keene, 

Did  often  vse  the  Chace,  in  Forrests  greene. 

And  so  alas,  the  good  Athenian  knight. 

And  swift  Acteon  herein  tooke  delight :  325 

And  Atalanta  the  Arcadian  dame, 

ConceiuV  such  wondrous  pleasure  in  the  game : 

That  with  her  traine  of  Nymphs  attending  on, 

She  came  to  hunt  the  Bore  of  Calydon, 
Ge,  So  did  Apollo  walk  with  shepheards  crooke,  330 

And  many  Kings  their  scepters  haue  forsooke: 

To  lead  the  quiet  life  we  shepheards  know 

Accounting  it  a  refuge  for  their  woe. 
5/7.  But  we  take  choice  of  many  a  pleasant  walke 

And  marke  the  Deare  how  they  begin  to  stalke,  335 

When  each  according  to  his  age  and  time, 

Pricks  vp  his  head,  and  beares  a  Princely  minde; 

The  lustie  Stag  conductor  of  the  traine, 

Leads  all  the  heard  in  order  downe  the  plaine; 

The  baser  rascalls  scatter  here  and  there,  340 

As  not  presuming  to  approach  so  neere. 
Ge.  So  shepheards  sometime  sit  vpon  a  hill, 

Or  in  the  cooling  shadow  of  a  mill : 

And  as  we  sit,  vnto  our  pipes  we  sing, 

And  therewith  make  the  neighboring  groues  to  ring.  345 

And  when  the  sun  steales  downward  to  the  west, 

We  leaue  our  chat,  and  whistle  in  the  fist: 

Which  is  a  signall  to  our  stragling  flocke, 

As  Trumpets  sound  to  men  in  martiall  shocke. 
Sil.  Shall  I  be  thus  out-faced  by  a  swaine?  350 

He  haue  a  guard  to  wayt  vpon  her  traine. 

Of  gallant  woodmen,  clad  in  comely  greene : 

The  like  whereof,  hath  sildome  yet  bene  seene, 
Ge,  And  I  of  shepheards  such  a  lustie  crew, 

As  neuer  Forrester  the  like  yet  knew:  355 

Who  for  their  persons  and  their  neate  aray, ' 

Shalbe  as  fresh,  as  is  the  moneth  of  May, 

319  thus]  then  Q  333  know]  I  correct  tooke.  of  the  Q  336  BulUn 

queries  kinde,  but  time  is  perhaps  better  sense^  and  an  assonance  or  annomination 
Xfike  fist  and  west,  /.  346)  often  satisfies  the  author  instead  of  a  rhyme 


352  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [acti 

Where  are  ye  there,  ye  merry  noted  swaines? 

Draw  neare  a  while,  and  whilst  vpon  the  plaines 

Your  flocks  do  gently  feed,  lets  see  your  skill,  360 

How  you  with  chaunting,  can  sad  sorrow  kill. 

Enter  shepheards  singing. 
Sil,  Thinks  Cemulo  to  beare  the  bell  away? 
By  singing  of  a  simple  Rundelay  ? 
No,  /  haue  fellowes,  whose  melodious  throates 
Shall  euen  as  far  exceed  those  homely  notes  365 

As  doth  the  Nightingale  in  musicke  passe. 
The  most  melodious  bird  that  euer  was. 
And  for  an  instance,  here  they  are  at  hand, 
When  they  haue  done,^let  our  deserts  be  scand. 

Enter  wood^^nen^  cmdsing. 
Eu.  Thanks  to  you  both,  you  both  deserue  so  well,  370 

As  I  want  skill  your  worthinesse  to  tell: 

And  both  I  do  commend  for  your  good  will, 

And  both  He  honor,  loue  and  reuerence  still: 

For  neuer  virgin  had  such  kindnes  showne, 

Of  straungers,  yea,  and  men  to  her  vnknowne.  375 

But  more,  to  end  this  sudden  controuersie. 

Since  I  am  made  an  vmpier  in  the  plea, 

This  is  my  verdite :  He  intreate  of  you 

A  Cottage  for  my  dwelling :  and  of  you, 

A  flocke  to  tend:  and  so  indifferent  380 

My  gratefuU  paines  on  either  shalbe  spent. 
Sil,   I  am  agreed,  and  for  the  loue  I  beare 

He  boast,  I  haue  a  Tenant  is  so  faire. 
Ce,  And  I  wil  hold  it  as  a  rich  possession. 

That  she  vouchsafes  to  be  of  my  profession*  385 

Sil.  Th6  for  a  sign  that  no  man  here  hath  wrong 

From  hence  lets  all  conduct  her  with  a  song. 

The  end  of  the  first  Act, 

ACTUS   SECUNDUS. 

(Scene  I.) 

Enter  Ascamo,  and  loculo  his  Page. 
Asca.  Away  loculo, 
lo.  Here  sir,  at  hand. 
Asca,  loadoy  where  is  she  ? 
lo.  I  know  not 
.    Asca,  When  went  she  ?  5 


sc.  i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  353 

lo.  I  know  not 
Asca.  Which  way  went  she  ? 
lo,   I  know  not. 

Asca*  Where  should  I  seeke  her  ? 

lo,  I  know  not.  10 

Asca,  When  shall  I  find  her? 
lo.  I  know  not. 

Asca,  A  vengeance  take  thee  slaoe,  what  dost  thou  know  ? 
lo.  Marry  sir,  that  I  doo  know. 

Asca,  What  villaine  ?  15 

lo.  And  you  be  so  testie,  go  looke :  What  a  coyles  here  with  you  ?  If 
we  knew  where  she  were,  what  need  we  seeke  her  ?  I  thinke  you  are 
lunaticke :  where  were  you  when  you  should  haue  lookt  after  her  ?  now 
you  go  crying  vp  and  downe  after  your  wench,  like  a  Boy  had  lost  his 
home  booke.  30 

Asca,  Ah  my  sweet  Boy. 

lo.  Ah  my  sweet  Maister :  nay  I  can  giue  you  as  good  words  as  you 
can  giue  me :  alls  one  for  that. 
Asca,  What  canst  thou  giue  me  no  reliefe  ? 

lo.  Faith  sir,  there  comes  not  one  morsel  of  comfort  from  my  lips,  to  35 
sustaine  that  hungry  mawe  of  your  miserie,  there  is  such  a  dearth  at  this 
time,  God  amend  it. 

Asca,  A  locuio,  my  breast  is  full  of  griefe, 
And  yet  my  hope,  that  only  wants  reliefe. 
lo.  Your  brest  and  my  belly,  are  in  two  contrary  kaies,  you  walke  to  get  30 
stomacke  to  your  meate,  and  I  walke  to  get  meate  to  my  stomacke :  your 
breast's  full,  and  my  belli's  emptie.    If  they  chance  to  part  in  this  case,  God 
send  them  merry  meeting :  that  my  belly  be  ful,  and  your  brest  empty, 
Asca,  Boy,  for  the  loue  that  euer  thou  didst  owe, 

To  thy  deare  master,  poore  Ascanio^  35 

Racke  thy  proou'd  wits,  vnto  the  highest  straine. 
To  bring  me  backe  Eurymine  againe. 
lo.  Nay  master,  if  wit  could  do  it,  I  could  tell  you  more :  but  if  it  euer 
be  done,  the  very  legeritie  of  the  feete  must  do  it :  these  ten  nimble  bones 
must  do  the  deed :  He  trot  like  a  little  dog :  theres  not  a  bush  so  big  as  40 
my  beard,  but  He  be  peeping  in  it :  theres  not  a  Coate  but  He  search 
euery  comer :  if  she  be  aboue,  or  beneath,  ouer  the  ground,  or  vnder, 
He  finde  her  out. 

Asca,  Stay  loculo*,   alas  it  cannot  be: 

If  we  should  part,  I  loose  both  her  and  thee :  45 

The  woods  are  wide:  and  wandring  thus  about. 
Thou  maist  be  lost:  and  not  my  Loue  found  out. 

16-63  Alljoculo's  spuchts  within  these  limits  as  verse  in  Q 

BOND   III  A  a 


354  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  n 

lo.  I  pray  you  let  me  goe. 

Asca,  I  pray  thee  stay. 

lo,  Ifaith  lie  runne. 

Asca.  And  doest  not  know  which  way. 

lo.  Any  way:  alls  one,  ile  drawe  drie  foote:  if  you  send  not  to  seeke  5® 

her,  you  may  lye  here  long  enough,  before  she  come  to  seeke  you :  she 

litle  thinkes  that  you  are  hunting  for  her  in  these  quarters. 

Asca.  Ah  loculOf  before  I  leaue  my  Boy, 

Of  this  worlds  comfort,  now  my  only  ioy: 

Seest  thou  this  place?  vpon  this  grassie  bed,  ^5 

With  sommers  gawdie  dyaper  bespred. 

He  lyes  downe, 

Vnder  these  shadowes  shall  my  dwelling  be: 

Till  thou  retume,  sweete  loculo  to  me. 

lOn  And  if  my  Conuoy  be  not  cut  off  by  the  way,  it  shall  not  be  long 

before  I  be  with  you.       rr    ^    j-     .   ^t   jt  ^, 

'  He  speakes  to  the  people.  60 

Well,  I  pray  you  looke  to  my  maister :  for  here  /  leaue  him  amongst  you : 

and  if  /  chaunce  to  light  on  the  wench,  you  shall  heare  of  me  by  the 

next  winde.  ^  •-  r     /     >#        •      / 

Exit  loculo^  Ascamo  solus, 

Asccu  In  vaine  I  feare,  I  beate  my  braines  about, 

Proouing  by  search,  to  finde  my  mistresse  out:  65 

Eurymifu^  Eurymine^  retome: 

And  with  thy  presence  guild  the  beautious  mome: 

And  yet  I  feare  to  call  vpon  thy  name. 

The  prattling  Eccho,  should  she  leame  the  same. 

The  last  words  accent  sheele  no  more  prolong,  ^ 

But  beare  that  sound  vpon  her  airie  tong. 

Adorned  with  the  presence  of  my  Loue, 

The  woods  I  feare,  such  secret  power  shal  proue 

As  they'll  shut  vp  each  path:   hide  euery  way, 

Because  they  still  would  haue  her  go  astray:  ^^ 

And  in  that  place  would  alwaies  haue  her  seene. 

Only  because  they  would  be  euer  greene: 

And  keepe  the  wingged  Quiristers  still  there, 

To  banish  winter  deane  out  of  the  yeare. 

But  why  persbt  I  to  bemone  my  state,  30 

When  she  is  gone,  and  my  complaint  too  late? 

A  drowsie  dulnes  closeth  vp  my  sight, 

O  powerfull  sleepe,  I  yeeld  vnto  thy  might. 

He/alles  a  sleepe. 

Enter  luno^  and  Iris. 
Juno.  Come  hither  Iris. 
Iris.  Iris  is  at  hand^ 


sc.  ij  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  355 

To  attend  Jaues  wife:  great  Iunos\ivt  command.  35 

Juno,  Iris  I  know  I  do  thy  seruice  proue, 

And  euer  since  I  was  the  wife  of  loue 

Thou  hast  bene  readie  when  I  called  still, 

And  alwayes  most  obedient  to  my  will: 

Thou  seest  how  that  imperiall  Queene  of  loue,  90 

With  all  the  Gods,  how  she  preuailes  aboue, 

And  still  against  great  lunos  bests  doth  stand. 

To  haue  all  stoupe  and  bowe,  at  her  command: 

Her  Doues  and  Swannes^  and  Sparrowes,  must  be  graced. 

And  on  loues  Aultars,  must  be  highly  placed.  95 

My  starry  Peacocks,  which  doth  beare  my  state: 

Scaresly  alowed  within  his  pallace  gate: 

And  since  her  selfe,  she  thus  preferd  doth  see, 

Now  the  proud  huswife  will  contend  with  mee: 

And  practiseth  her  wanton  pranckes  to  play  xoo 

With  this  AscantOy  and  Eurymine, 

But  Loue  shall  know,  in  spight  of  all  his  skill, 

lunds  a  woman,  and  will  haue  her  will. 
Iris.  What  is  my  Goddesse  will?  may  Iris  aske? 
luno.  IriSj  on  thee  /  do  impose  this  taske,  105 

To  crosse  proud  Venus,  and  her  purblind  Lad, 

Vntill  the  mother,  and  her  brat  be  mad. 

And  with  each  other,  set  them  so  at  ods, 

Till  to  their  teeth  they  curse,  and  ban  the  Gods, 
Iris,  Goddes,  the  graunt  consists  alone  in  you,  1 10 

luno.  Then  mark  the  course  which  now  you  must  pursue. 

Within  this  ore-growne  Forrest,  there  is  found 

A  duskie  Caue,  thrust  lowe  into  the  ground : 

So  vgly  darke,  so  dampie  and  (so)  steepe. 

As  for  his  life  the  sunne  durst  neuer  peepe  115 

/nto  the  entrance:   which  doth  so  afiright 

The  very  day,  that  halfe  the  world  is  night. 

Where  fennish  fogges,  and  vapours  do  abound: 

There  Morpheus' ^o'Ca.  dwell  within  the  ground, 

Ko  crowing  Cocke,  nor  waking  bell  doth  call,  120 

Nor  watchfuU  dogge  disturbeth  sleepe  at  all. 

No  sound  is  heard  in  compasse  of  the  hill, 

But  euery  thing  is  quiet,  whisht,  and  still. 

Amid  this  Caue,  vpon  the  ground  doth  lie, 

A  hollow  plancher,  all  of  Ebonie  125 

Couer'd  with  blacke,  whereon  the  drowsie  God, 

Drowned  in  sleepe,  continually  doth  nod: 

95  loues  required  by  context :  Loues  Qbya  common  mistetke 

Aa  2 


3S6  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  ii 

Go  Iris  go,  and  my  commaundment  take. 
And  beate  against  the  doores  till  sleepe  awake, 
Bid  him  from  me,  in  vision  to  appeare,  130 

Vnto  Ascanio  that  lieth  slumbring  heare. 
And  in  that  vision,  to  reueale  the  way. 
How  he  may  finde  the  faire  Eurymine, 
Iris,  Madam,  my  seruice  is  at  your  conmiandy 

luno.  Dispatch  it  then,  good  Iris  out  of  hand.  135 

My  Peacocks  and  my  Charriot  shall  remaine, 
About  the  shore,  till  thou  retume  againe.  Exit  luno. 

Iris,  About  the  businesse  now  that  /  am  sent. 
To  sleepes  blacke  Caue,  /  will  incontinent : 

And  his  darke  cabine,  boldly  will  /  shake,  140 

Vntill  the  drowsie  lumpish  God  awake: 
And  such  a  bounsing  at  his  Caue  lie  keepe, 
That  if  pale  death,  seaz'd  on  the  eyes  of  sleepe, 
He  rowse  him  vp,  that  when  he  shall  me  heare. 
He  make  his  locks  stand  vp  on  end  with  feare.  145 

Be  silent  aire,  whil'st  Iris  in  her  pride 
Swifter  then  thought,  vpon  the  windes  doth  ride. 
What  SomnuSf  what  Somnus^  Somnus,  Strikes, 

Pauses  a  litle. 
What  wilt  thou  not  awake?  art  thou  still  so  £ut? 
Nay  then  yfaith.  He  haue  an  other  cast.  150 

What  SomsHis  Somnus  /  say  ? 
Strikes  againe, 
Som,  Who  calles  at  this  time  of  the  day  ? 
What  a  balling  dost  thou  keepe? 
A  vengeance  take  thee,  let  me  sleq>e. 
Iris,  Vp  thou  drowsie  God,  /  say,  155 

And  come  presently  away, 
Or  /  will  beate  vpon  this  doore. 
That  after  this,  thou  sleep'st  no  more. 
Sam,  /le  take  a  nap,  and  come  annon. 
Iris,  Out  you  beast,  you  blocke,  you  stone:  160 

Come,  or  at  thy  doore  /le  thunder. 
Til  both  heauen  and  hel  do  wonder, 
Somnus f  I  say! 
Som,  A  vengeance  split  thy  chaps  asunder.  164 

Iris,  What  Somnus  ?  Enter  Somnus, 

Som,  Iris  I  thought  it  should  be  thee. 
How  now  mad  wench,  what  wouldst  with  me? 
Iris.  From  mightie  luno,  loues  immortal  wife, 
Somnus  I  come:  to  charge  thee  on  thy  life, 


sc.  i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  357 

That  thou  vnto  this  Gentleman  appeere,  170 

And  in  this  place,  thus  as  he  lyeth  heerei 

Present  his  mistres  to  his  inward  eies» 

In  as  true  manner,  as  thou  canst  deuise. 
Som.  I  would  thou  wert  hangd  for  waking  me. 

Three  sonnes  I  haue,  the  eldest  Morpheus  bighte:  175 

He  shewes  of  man,  the  shape  or  sight* 

The  second  Icelor^  whose  beheasts 

Doth  shewe  the  formes  of  birds  and  beasts, 

Phantasor  for  the  third,  things  lifeles  hee: 

Chuse  which  like  thee  of  these  three.  180 

\ris,  Morpheus :   if  he  in  humane  shape  appeare* 
S^///.  Morpheus  come  forth  in  perfect  likenes  beeroi 

Of,  how  call  ye  the  Gentlewoman? 

\ris.  Eurytnime. 

Som.  Of  Eurymine :  and  shewe  this  Gentlemani 

What  of  his  mistres  is  become.  185 

Kneeling  downe  by  Ascanio. 

Enter  Eurymine ^  to  be  supposed  Morpheus. 

Mor,  My  deare  AscaniOy  in  this  vision  see, 

Eurymine  doth  thus  appeare  to  thee: 

As  soone  as  sleepe  hath  left  thy  drowsie  eies. 

Follow  the  path  that  on  thy  right  hand  lies. 

An  aged  Hermit  thou  by  chaunce  shalt  find,  190 

That  there  hath  bene,  time  almost  out  of  mind: 

This  holy  man,  this  aged  reuerent  Father, 

There  in  the  woods,  doth  rootes  and  simples  gather: 

His  wrinckled  browe,  tells  strengths  past  long  ago: 

His  beard  as  white,  as  winters  driuen  snow.  X95 

He  shall  discourse  the  troubles  I  haue  past, 

And  bring  vs  both  togither  at  the  last. 

Thus  she  presents  her  shadow  to  thy  sight. 

That  would  her  person  gladly  if  she  might. 
Iris.  See  how  he  catches  to  imbrace  the  shade.  200 

Mor,  This  vision  fully  doth  his  powers  inuade. 

And  when  the  heate  shall  but  a  litle  slake: 

Thou  then  shalt  see  him  presently  awake. 
Som,  Hast  thou  ought  else»  that  I  may  stand  in  sted? 
Iris,  No  SomnuSy  no:  go  back  vnto  thy  bed:  205 

\uno  she  shall  reward  thee  for  thy  paine. 
Som,  Then  good  night,  Im,  He  to  rest  againe. 
Iris,  Morpheus  farwell:   to  luno  I  will  flie. 
Mor,  And  /  to  sleepe,  a$  fast  as  /  can  hie.  Exeunt. 


358  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  ii 

Ascanio  starting^  sayes, 
Euryminei  Ah  my  good  Angell  stay:  210 

O  vanish  not  so  suddenly  away. 
O  stay  my  Goddes,  whither  doest  thou  flie? 
Returae  my  sweet  Eurymine,  tis  /. 
Where  art  thoii  speake?    Let  me  behold  thy  face: 
Did  /  not  see  thee,  in  this  very  place  315 

Euen  now  ?    Here  did  /  not  see  thee  stand  ? 
And  here  thy  feete  did  blesse  the  happie  land? 
Euryminei   Oh  wilt  thou  not  attend? 
Flie  from  thy  foe:  Ascanio  is  thy  friend. 

The  fearful!  Hare,  so  shuns  the  labouring  hound,  220 

And  so  the  Dear  eschues  the  Hunts-man  wound. 
The  trembling  Foule,  so  flies  the  Falcons  gripe: 
The  Bond-man,  so,  his  angry  maisters  stripe. 
/  follow  not,  as  Phabus  Daphne  did : 

Nor  as  the  Dog  pursues  the  trembling  Kid.  225 

Thy  shape  it  was :   alas  /  sawe  not  diee : 
That  sight  were  fitter  for  the  Gods  then  mee. 
But  if  in  dreames,  there  any  truth  be  found. 
Thou  art  within  the  compas  of  this  ground. 

Tie  raunge  the  woods,  and  all  the  groues  about,  230 

And  neuer  rest,  vntill  /  find  thee  out.  ExiL 

<SC£NE  n.) 

Enter  at  one  doore^  Mopso  singing. 

Mop.  Terlitelo,  Terlitelo,  terlitelee,  terlo, 
So  merrily  this  shepheards  Boy 
His  home  that  he  can  blow. 
Early  in  a  morning,  late,  late,  in  an  euening, 
And  euer  sat  this  little  Boy,  5 

So  merrily  piping. 

Enter  at  the  other  doore^  Frisco  singing. 

Fris,  Can  you  blow  the  little  home? 
Weell,  weell,  and  very  weell. 
And  can  you  blow  the  little  home. 
Amongst  the  leaues  greene?  10 

Enter  Joculo  in  the  midst  singing. 

lo.  Fortune  my  foe,  why  doest  thou  frowne  on  mee? 
And  will  my  fortune  neuer  better  bee: 
Wilt  thou  I  say,  for  euer  breed  my  paine? 
And  wilt  thou  not  xestore  my  loyes  againe? 


Sdi]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  359 

Frisco,  Cannot  a  man  be  merry  in  his  owne  walke,  but  a  must  be  15 
thus  encombred  ? 

lo.  I  am  disposed  to  be  melanchoUy,  and  I  cannot  be  priuate,  for  one 
villaine  or  other. 

Mop.  How  the  diuel  stumbled  this  case  of  rope-ripes  in-  into  my  way  ? 

Fris.  Sirrha,  what  art  thou  ?  and  thou  ?  ao 

lo,  I  am  Page  to  a  Courtier. 

Mop,  And  I  a  Boy  to  a  Shepheard. 

Fris,  Thou  art  the  Apple-squier  to  an  Eawe,  and  thou  swome  brother 
to  a  bale  of  false  dice. 

lo.  What  art  thou  ?  25 

Fris.  I  am  a  Boy  to  a  Raunger. 

lo.  An  Out-Iawe  by  authoritie :  one  that  neuer  sets  marke  of  his  own 
goods,  nor  neuer  knowes  how  he  comes  by  other  mens. 

Mop,  That  neuer  knowes  his  cattell,  but  by  their  homes. 

Fris,  Sirrha,  so  you  might  haue  said  of  your  masters  sheep.  30 

lo,  I  marry :  this  takes  fier  like  touch  powder,  and  goes  off  with 
a  huffe. 

Fris,  They  come  of  crick-cracks,  send  shake  their  tayles  like  a  squib. 

lo.  Ha  you  Rogues,  the  very  Steele  of  my  wit,  shall  strike  fier  from 
the  flint  of  your  vnderstandings :  haue  you  not  heard  of  me  ?  35 

Mop,  Yes,  if  you  be  that  loculo  that  I  take  you  for,  we  haue  heard  of 
your  exployts,  for  cosoning  of  some  seuen,  and  thirtie  Alewiues,  in  the 
Villages  here  about. 

lo,  A  wit,  as  nimble  as  a  Sempsters  needle,  or  a  girles  finger  at  her 
Buske  poynt  40 

Mop,  Your  iest  goes  too  low  sir. 

Fris,  O  but  tis  a  tickling  iest. 

lo.  Who  wold  haue  thought  to  haue  found  this  in  a  plaine  villaine, 
that  neuer  woare  better  garment,  then  a  green  lerkin  ? 

Frisco,  O  Sir,  though  you  Courtiers  haue  all  the  honour,  you  haue  45 
not  all  the  wit. 

Mop.  Soft  sir,  tis  not  your  witte  can  carry  it  away  in  this  company. 

lo.  Sweet  Rogues,  your  companie  to  me,  is  like  musick  to  a  wench  at 
midnight :  when  she  lies  alone,  and  could  wish,  yea  marry  could  she. 

Fris,  And  thou  art  as  welcom  to  me,  as  a  new  poking  stick  to  50 
a  Chamber  mayd. 

Mcp.  But  soft,  who  comes  here  ? 

Enter  the  Faieries^  singing  and  dauncing. 

By  the  Moone  we  sport  and  play, 

With  the  night  begins  our  day: 

As  we  daunce  the  deaw  doth  fall,  55 

Trip  it  little  vrchins  all: 


36o  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  ii 

Lightly  as  the  little  Bee, 

Two  by  two,  and  three  by  three: 

And  about  go  we,  and  about  go  wee. 
lo.  What  Mawmets  are  these  ?  60 

Fris.  O  they  be  the  Fayries  that  haunt  these  woods. 
Mop,  O  we  shall  be  pincht  most  cruelly. 

1  Fay,  Will  you  haue  any  musick  Sir  ? 

2  Fay,  Will  you  haue  any  fine  musicke  ? 

3  Fay.  Most  daintie  musicke  ?  ^5 
Mop,  We  must  set  a  face  on't  now,  theres  no  flying.    No  Sir :  we  are 

very  merry  I  thanke  you. 

1  Fay.  O  but  you  shall  Sir. 

Fris,  No,  I  pray  you  saue  your  labour. 

2  Fay,  O  Sir,  it  shall  not  cost  you  a  penny.  7^ 
lo.  Where  be  your  Fiddles  ? 

3  Fay.  You  shall  haue  most  daintie  Instruments  Sir. 
Mop,  I  pray  you,  what  might  I  call  you  ? 

1  Fay.  My  name  is  Penny, 

Mop,  I  am  sory  I  cannot  purse  you.  75 

Fris.  I  pray  you  sir,  what  might  I  call  you  ? 

2  Fay,  My  name  is  Cricket, 

Fris,  I  would  I  were  a  Chinmey  for  your  sake. 

lo.  I  pray  you,  yoa  prettie  litle  fellow,  what's  your  name  ? 

3  Fay,  My  name  is  litttle,  little  Pricke,  80 
lo.  Little,  little  Pricke  ?  6  you  are  a  daungerous  Fayrie,  and  fright  all 

the  little  wenches  in  the  Country,  out  of  their  beds.    I  care  not  whose 
hand  I  were  in,  so  1  were  out  of  yours. 

1  Fay.  I  do  come  about  the  coppes, 

Leaping  vpon  flowers  toppes:  85 

Then  I  get  vpon  a  flie, 

Shee  carries  me  aboue  the  skie: 

And  trip  and  goe. 

2  Fc^.  When  a  deawe  drop  falleth  downe. 

And  doth  light  vpon  my  crowne,  5^ 

Then  I  shake  my  head  and  skip: 

And  about  I  trip. 
'^Fay.  When  I  feele  a  gyrle  a  sleepe, 

Vndemeath  her  frock  I  peepe. 

There  to  sport,  and  there  I  play,  95 

Then  /  byte  her  like  a  flea : 

And  about  /  skip. 
lo.  I,  I  thought  where  I  should  haue  you. 
I  Fay.  Wilt  please  you  daunce  sir? 
lo.  Indeed  sir,  I  cannot  handle  my  legges.  100 


sen]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  361 

2  Fay,  O  you  must  needs  daunce  and  sing : 
Which  if  you  refuse  to  doo» 
We  will  pinch  you  blacke  and  blew. 
And  about  we  goe. 
They  all  daunce  in  a  Ring^  and  sing  as  follaweth. 
Round  about,  round  about,  in  a  fine  Ring  a :  105 

Thus  we  daunce,  thus  we  daunce,  and  thus  we  sing  a. 
Trip  and  go,  too  and  fro,  ouer  this  Greene  a: 
All  about,  in  and  out,  for  our  braue  Queene  a. 

Round  about,  round  about,  in  a  fine  Ring  a: 

Thus  we  daunce,  thus  we  daunce,  and  thus  we  sing  a.       no 

Trip  and  go,  too  and  fro,  ouer  this  Greene  a: 

All  about,  in  and  out,  for  oiur  braue  Queene  a. 

We  haue  daunc't  round  about,  in  a  fine  Ring  a: 

We  haue  daunc't  lustily,  and  thus  we  sing  a: 

All  about,  in  and  out,  ouer  this  Greene  a:  115 

Too  and  fro,  trip  and  go,  to  our  braue  Queene  a« 


ACTUS  TERTIUS. 

Scena  I. 

Enter  AppoUo,  and  three  Charites, 

I  Cha.  No  no  great  PhoebuSy  this  your  silence  tends. 

To  hide  your  griefe  from  knowledge  of  your  friends, 

Who  if  they  knew  the  cause  in  each  respect, 

Would  shewe  their  vtmost  skill  to  cure  th'efiect. 
Ap,  Good  Ladyes,  your  conceites  in  iudgement  erre,  5 

Because  you  see  me  dumpish,  you  referre 

The  reason  to  some  secret  griefe  of  mine : 

But  you  haue  seene  me  melancholy  many  a  time. 

Perhaps  it  is  the  glowing  weather  now. 

That  makes  me  seeme  so  ill  at  ease  to  you.  10 

1.  Fine  shifts  to  colour  what  you  cannot  hide, 
No  Phcebusj  by  your  lookes  may  be  discride 
Some  hid  conceit,  that  harbors  in  your  thought, 
Which  hath  therein,  some  straunge  impression  wrought: 

That  by  the  course  thereof^  you  seeme  to  mee,  15 

An  other  man  then  you  were  wont  to  bee. 
Ap,  No  Ladies,  you  deceiue  your  selues  in  mee: 
What  likelihood  or  token  do  ye  see, 
That  may  perswade  it  true  that  you  suppose? 

2.  Appollo,  hence  a  great  suspition  growes,  20 


362  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iii 

Ye  are  not  so  pleasaunt  noW|  as  earst  in  companie, 
Ye  walke  alone,  and  wander  solitarie. 
The  pleasaunt  toyes  we  did  frequent  sometime. 
Are  wome  away,  and  growne  out  of  prime. 

Your  Instrument  hath  lost  his  siluer  sound,  25 

That  rang  of  late,  through  all  this  grouie  ground. 
Your  bowe  wherwith  the  chace  you  did  frequent, 
Is  closde  in  case,  and  long  hath  bene  vnbent. 
How  differ  you  from  that  Appollo  now, 

That  whilom  sat  in  shade  of  Lawrell  bowe,  30 

And  with  the  warbling  of  your  luorie  Lute, 
T'alure  the  Fairies  for  to  daunce  about. 
Or  from  Th^appolh  that  with  bended  bowe, 
Did  many  a  sharp  and  wounding  shaft  bestowe. 
Amidst  the  Dragon  Pithons  scalie  wings,  35 

And  fordt  his  dying  blood  to  spout  in  springs. 
Beleeue  me  Phebus,  who  sawe  you  then  and  now, 
Would  thinke  there  were  a  wondrous  change  in  you. 
Ap,  Alas  faire  dames,  to  make  my  sorows  plain. 

Would  but  reuiue  an  auncient  wound  again.  40 

Which  grating  presently  vpon  my  minde. 

Doth  leaue  a  scar  of  former  woes  behinde. 
3.  Phcebusy  if  you  account  vs  for  the  same. 

That  tender  thee,  and  loue  AppoUos  name, 

Powre  forth  to  vs  the  fountaine  of  your  woe,  45 

Fro  whence  the  spring  of  these  your  sorows  flowe  ? 

If  we  may  any  way  redresse  your  mone, 

Commaund  our  best,  harme  will  we  do  you  none. 
Ap,  Good  Ladies,  though  I  hope  for  no  reliefe, 

He  shewe  the  ground  of  this  my  present  griefe.  50 

This  time  of  yeare,  or  there  about  it  was, 

Accursed  be  the  time,  tenne  times  alas: 

When  I  from  Delphos  tooke  my  ioumey  downe. 

To  see  the  games  in  noble  Sparta  Towne, 

There  saw  I  that,  wherein  I  gan  to  ioy,  55 

Amycla^  sonne  a  gallant  comely  boy, 

Hight  (HiacintK)  full  fifteene  yeares  of  age. 

Whom  I  intended  to  haue  made  my  Page, 

And  bare  as  great  affection  to  the  boy. 

As  euer  loue^  in  Ganimede  did  ioy.  60 

Among  the  games^  my  selfe  put  in  a  pledge, 

To  trie  my  strength  in  throwing  of  the  sledge, 

56  Q  misprints  Amilchart 


sc.  i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  363 

Which  poysing  with  my  strained  arme  I  threw 

So  faire,  that  it  beyond  the  other  flew. 

My  Hiacinth^  delighting  in  the  game,  65 

Desierd  to  proue  his  manhood  in  the  same: 

And  catching  ere  the  sledge  lay  still  on  ground. 

With  violent  force,  aloft  it  did  rebound 

Against  his  head,  and  battered  out  his  braine: 

And  so  alas,  my  lonely  boy  was  slaine.  70 

I.  Hard  hap  O  Phoebus ,  but  sieth  it's  past  &  gone. 

We  wish  ye  to  forbeare  this  frustrate  mone. 
Ap,  Ladies,  I  know  my  sorrowes  are  in  vaine, 

And  yet  from  mourning  can  I  not  refraine. 

1.  Eurania  some  pleasant  Song  shall  sing.  75 
To  put  ye  from  your  dumps. 

Ap.  Alas,  no  Song  will  bring 

The  least  reliefe  to  my  perplexed  minde. 

2.  No  Phoebus}   what  other  pastime  shal  we  finde, 
To  make  ye  merry  with? 

Ap,  Faire  dames  I  thanke  you  all, 

No  sport  nor  pastime  can  release  my  thrall :  80 

My  griePs  of  course,  when  it  the  course  hath  had, 
I  shall  be  merrie,  and  no  longer  sad. 

1.  What  will  ye  then  we  doo? 

Ap.  And  please  ye,  you  may  goe, 

And  leaue  me  here  to  feed  vpon  my  woe. 

2.  Then  Phebus^  we  can  but  wish  ye  wel  again.  85 

Exeunt  Charites. 
Ap,  I  thanke  ye  gentle  Ladies  for  your  paine. 
O  Phoebus  wretched  thou  thus  art  thou  faine 
With  forg'de  excuses,  to  conceale  thy  paine. 
O  Hyacinth,  I  suffer  not  these  fits 

For  thee  my  Boy,  no,  no,  another  sits  90 

Deeper  then  thou,  in  closet  of  my  brest: 
Whose  sight  so  late,  hath  wrought  me  this  vnrest. 
And  yet  no  Goddesse,  nor  of  heauenly  kinde 
She  is,  whose  beautie  thus  torments  my  minde. 
No  Fayrie  Nymph,  that  haunts  these  pleasaunt  woods,  95 

No  Goddesse  of  the  flowres,  the  fields,  nor  floods : 
Yet  such  an  one,  whom  iustly  I  may  call 
A  Nymph,  as  well  as  any  of  them  alL 
Eurymine,  what  heauen  affoords  thee  heere? 

So  may  I  say,  because  thou  com'st  so  neere?  loo 

And  neerer  far  vnto  a  heauenly  shape, 
Then  she  of  whom  loue  triumph't  in  the  Rape. 


364  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  111 

He  sit  me  downe,  and  wake  my  griefe  againe. 
To  sing  a  while,  in  honour  of  thy  name. 

The  Song. 

Amidst  the  mountaine  Ida  grouet,  105 

Where  Paris  kept  his  Heard: 

Before  the  other  Ladies  all, 

He  would  haue  thee  preferd. 

Pallas  for  all  her  painting  than, 

Her  face  would  seeme  but  pale:  no 

Then  luno  would  haue  blusht  for  shame, 

And  Venus  looked  stale. 

Eurymine  thy  selfe  alone, 

Shouldst  beare  the  golden  ball: 

So  £ar  would  thy  most  heauenly  forme,  115 

Excell  the  other  all. 

O  happie  PMabuSy  happie  then, 

Most  happie  should  I  bee: 

If  iaire  Euryndne  would  please, 

To  ioyne  in  loue  with  mee.  120 

Enter  Eurymine. 

Eu,  Although  there  be  such  difference  in  the  chaunge, 

To  Hue  in  Court,  and  desart  woods  to  raunge, 

Yet  in  extremes,  wherein  we  cannot  chuse, 

An  extreame  refuge  is  not  to  refuse: 

Good  gentlemen,  did  any  see  my  heard?  125 

I  shall  not  finde  them  out,  I  am  afeard: 

And  yet  my  maister  wayteth  with  his  bowei 

Within  a  standing,  for  to  stdke  a  Doe. 

You  saw  them  not?    Your  silence  makes  me  doubt: 

I  must  goe  further,  till  I  finde  them  out.  130 

Af.  What  seek  you  prettie  Mayde? 

Eu,  Forsooth  my  heard  of  Deere. 

Ap.  I  sawe  them  lately,  but  they  are  not  heere. 
Eu.  I  pray  Sir,  where? 
Ap.  An  houre  agoe  or  twaine, 

I  sawe  them  fiseding  all  aboue  the  plaine. 
Eu.  So  much  the  more  my  toile  to  fetch  them  in.  135 

I  thanke  ye  Sir. 
Ap.  Nay  stay  sweet  Nymph  with  mee. 

Eu,  My  busines,  cannot  so  dispatched  bee. 
Ap,  But  praye  ye  Maide,  it  will  be  verie  good, 

To  take  the  shade,  in  this  vnhaunted  wood: 


sc.  i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  365 

This  flowring  bay  with  branches  laige  and  greati  140 

Will  shrowd  ye  safely,  from  the  parching  heat. 
Eu,  Good  sir,  my  busines  calls  me  hence  in  hast. 
Ap.  O  stay  with  him,  who  conquered  thou  hast 

With  him,  whose  restles  thoughts  do  beat  on  thee: 

With  him  that  ioyes,  thy  wished  face  to  see.  145 

With  him  whose  ioyes  surmount  all  ioyes  aboue : 

If  thou  wouldst  thinke  him  worthie  of  thy  loue. 
Eu,  Why  Sir,  would  you  desire  another  make? 

And  weare  that  garland  for  your  Mistres  sake  ? 
Ap.  No  Nymph,  although  I  loue  this  lawrel  tree,  150 

My  fancy  ten  times  more  affecteth  thee: 

And  as  the  bay  is  alwaies  fresh  and  greene. 

So  shall  my  loue  as  fresh  to  thee  be  seene. 
Eu.  Now  truly  Sir,  you  offer:  roe  great  wrong, 

To  hold  me  from  my  busines  here  so  long.  155 

Ap.  O  stay  sweet  Nymph,  with  more  aduisement  view^ 

What  one  he  is,  that  for  thy  grace  doth  sue: 

I  am  not  one  that  haunts  on  hills  or  Rocks, 

I  am  no  shepheard  wayting  on  my  flocks. 

I  am  no  boystrous  Satyre,  no  nor  Faune,  160 

That  am  with  pleasure  of  thy  beautie  drawne. 

Thou  dost  not  know  God  wot,  thou  dost  not  kno, 

The  wight,  whose  presence  thou  disdainest  so. 
Eu.  But  I  may  know,  if  you  wold  please  to  tell. 
Ap.  My  father  in  the  highest  heauens  doth  dwel :  165 

And  I  am  knowne  the  sonne  of  I(n4e  to  bee, 

Whereon  the  folke  of  Delphos  honor  mee. 

By  me  is  knowne  what  is,  what  was,  and  what  shall  bee. 

By  me  are  leamde  the  Rules  of  harmonie* 

By  me  the  depth  of  Phisicks  lore  is  found :  170 

And  power  of  hearbes  that  grow  vpon  the  ground. 

And  thus  by  circumstances  maist  thou  see. 

That  I  am  Phcebus,  who  doth  fancie  thee. 
Eu.  No  sir,  by  these  discourses  may  I  see, 

You  mock  me  with  a  forged  pedegree.  I75 

If  sonne  you  be  to  loue,  as  erst  ye  said. 

In  making  loue  vnto  a  mortall  maide. 

You  worke  dishonour  to  your  deitie : 

I  must  be  gone :   I  thanke  ye  for  yoiu:  curtesie 
Ap.  Alas,  abandon  not  thy  Louer  so.  180 

Eu.  I  pray  sir  hartily,  giue  me  leaue  to  goe. 
Ap.  The  way  ore-growne,  with  shrubs  and  bushes  thick, 

The  sharpned  thomes,  your  tender  feete  will  prick. 


366  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iif 

The  brambles  round  about,  your  traine  will  lappe. 

The  burs  and  briers,  about  your  skirts  will  wrappe.  185 

Eu,  If  Phosbus,  thou  of  loue  the  ofspring  be. 

Dishonor  not  thy  deitie  so  much, 

With  profered  force,  a  silly  mayd  to  touch: 

For  doing  so,  although  a  god  thou  bee. 

The  earth,  and  men  on  earth,  shall  ring  thy  infamie.  190 

Ap,  Hard  speech  to  him  that  loueth  thee  so  well. 
Eu.  What  know  I  that? 
Ap.  I  know  it,  and  can  tell: 

And  feele  it  too. 
Eu,  If  that  your  loue  be  such, 

As  you  pretend,  so  feruent  and  so  much, 

For  proofe  thereof  graunt  me  but  one  request.  195 

Ap.  I  will,  by  laue  my  father,  I  protest: 

Frouided  first,  that  thy  petition  bee. 

Not  hurtfull  to  thy  selfe,  nor  harme  to  mee. 

For  so  sometimes  did  Phaeton  my  sonne. 

Request  a  thing,  whereby  he  was  vndonne.  200 

He  lost  his  life  through  craning  it,  and  I 

Through  graunting  it,  lost  him  my  sonne  thereby. 
Eu.  Then  Phcsbus  thus  it  is,  if  thou  be  hee, 

That  art  pretended  in  thy  pedegree, 

If  sonne  thou  be  to  loue  as  thou  doest  faine,  205 

And  chalengest  that  tytle  not  in  vaine: 

Now  heer  bewray  some  signe  of  godhead  than  ? 

And  chaunge  me  straight,  from  shape  of  mayd  to  man  ? 
Ap.  Alas,  what  fond  desire  doth  moue  thy  minde 

To  wish  thee  altered  from  thy  natiue  kinde?  210 

If  thou  in  this  thy  womans  forme  canst  moue. 

Not  men  but  gods,  to  sue  and  seeke  thy  loue: 

Content  thy  selfe  with  natures  bountie  than. 

And  couet  not  to  beare  the  shape  of  man. 

And  this  moreouer  will  I  say  to  thee,  215 

Fairer  man  then  mayde,  thou  shalt  neuer  bee. 
Eu,  These  vaine  excuses,  manifestly  showe, 

Whether  you  vsurp  Appollos  name  or  no. 

Sith  my  demaund  so  far  surmounts  your  Art, 

Ye  ioyne  exceptions,  on  the  other  part.  220 

Ap.  Nay  then  my  doubtles  Deitie  to  proue, 

Although  thereby  for  euer  I  loose  my  Loue, 

I  graunt  thy  wish,  thou  art  become  a  man : 

I  speake  no  more,  then  well  performe  I  can. 

And  though  thou  walke  in  chaunged  bodie  now,  225 


sc.n]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  367 

This  pennance  shall  be  added  to  thy  vow: 

Thy  selfe  a  man,  shalt  loue  a  man,  in  vaine : 

And  louingj  wish  to  be  a  maide  againe. 
Eu,  Appollo^  whether  I  loue  a  man  or  not, 

I  thanke  ye,  now  I  will  accept  my  lot :  230 

And  sith  my  chaunge  hath  disappointed  you. 

Ye  are  at  libertie  to  loue  anew.  Exit. 

Ap.  If  euer  I  loue,  sith  now  I  am  forsaken, 

Where  next  I  loue,  it  shall  be  better  taken: 

But  what  so  ere  my  fate  in  louing  bee,  235 

Yet  thou  maist  vaunt,  that  Phcsbus  loued  thee.         Exit  Appollo. 

<SCEN£  11.) 

Enter  loculo^  Frisco,  and  Afopso,  at  three 

seuercdl  doores. 

Mop.  loculoy  whither  iettest  thou?  hast  thou  found  thy  Maister? 

lo,  Mopso  wel  met,  hast  thou  found  thy  mistresse  ? 

Mop.  Not  I  by  Pan. 

lo.  Nor  I  by  Pot. 

Mop.  Pot?  what  god's  that?  5 

lo.  The  next  god  to  a  Pan,  and  such  a  pot  it  may  be. 
That  as  he  shall  haue  moe  seruants  then  all  the  Pannes  in  a  Tinkers  shop. 

Mop.  Frisco^  where  hast  thou  bene  frisking?  hast  thou  found? 

Fris.  I  haue  found. 

lo.  What  hast  thou  found  Friscol  10 

Fris.  A  couple  of  crack-roapes, 

lo.  And  I. 

Mop.  And  I. 

Fris.  I  meane  you  two. 

Jo.  I  you  two.  ij 

Mop.  And  I  you  two. 

Fris.  Come,  a  trebble  coniunction :  all  three,  all  three. 

They  all  embrace  each  other. 

Mop.  But  Frisco^  hast  not  found  the  faire  shepheardesse,  thy  Maisters 
Mistresse  ? 

Fris.  Not  I  by  God,  Priapus  I  meane.  20 

Jo.  Priapus  quoch  a  ?    Whattin  a  God  might  that  bee  ? 

Fris.  A  plaine  God,  with  a  good  peg  to  hang  a  shepheardresse  bottle 
vpon. 

Jo.  Thou  being  a  Forresters  Boy,  shouldst  sweare  by  the  God  of  the 
woods.  25 

Fris.  My  Maister  sweares  by  Siluanus,  I  must  sweare  by  his  poore 
neighbour. 


368  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  in 

lo.  And  beer's  a  shepheards  swaine,  sweares  by  a  Kitcben  God,  Pan, 

Mop,  ParCs  tbe  sbepbeardes  God,  but  tbou  swearest  by  Pot,  what 
God's  that?  30 

lo.  The  God  of  good-fellowship:  well,  you  haue  wicked  Maisters, 
that  teach  such  little  Boyes  as  you  are  to  sweare  so  young. 

Fris.  Alas  good  old  great  man,  wil  not  your  master  swear  ? 

lo,  I  neuer  heard  him  sweare  six  sound  oaths  in  all  my  life. 

Mop,  May  hap  he  cannot,  because  bees  diseasd.  35 

Fris,  Peace  Mopso^  I  -will  stand  toot,  hee's  neither  braue  Courtier, 
bouncing  Caualier,  nor  boone  Companion,  if  he  sweare  not  sometime : 
for  they  will  sweare,  forsweare,  and  sweare. 

lo.  How  ?  sweare,  forsweare,  and  sweare  ?  how  is  that  ? 

Fris,  They*le  sweare  at  dyce,  forsweare  their  debts :    and  sweare  4® 
when  they  loose  their  labour  in  loue. 

lo.  Well,  your  maisters  haue  much  to  answere  for,  that  bring  ye  vp 
so  wickedly. 

Fris.  Nay  my  maister  is  damn'd  He  be  swome,  for  his  very  soule 
bumes  in  the  firie  eye  of  his  faire  mistresse.  45 

Mop,  My  maister  is  not  damn'd,  but  he  is  dead,  for  he  hath  buried 
his  ioyes  in  the  bosome  of  his  faire  mistresse. 

lo.  My  maister  is  neither  damnde  nor  dead,  and  yet  is  in  the  case 
of  both  your  maisters:   like  a  woodden  shepheard,  and  a  sheepish 
wood-man,  for  he  is  lost  in  seeking  of  a  lost  sheepe,  and  spent  in  h^ 
hunting  a  Doe  that  hee  would  faine  strike. 

Fris,  Faith  and  I  am  founderd  with  a  flinging  too  and  fro,  with 
Ches-nuts,  Hazel-nuts,  Bullaze,  and  wildings,  for  presents  from  my 
maister  to  the  faire  shepherdesse. 

Mop,  And  I  am  tierd  like  a  Calfe,  with  carrying  a  Kidde  euery  weeke  55 
to  the  Cottage  of  my  maisters  sweete  Lambkin. 

lo,  I  am  not  tierd,  but  so  wearie  I  cannot  goe,  with  following  a  maister, 
that  followes  his  mistresse,  that  followes  her  shadow,  that  followes  the 
sunne,  that  followes  his  course. 

Fris,  That  follows  the  colt,  that  followed  the  mare,  the  man  rode  on  60 
to  Midleton :  shall  I  speake  a  wise  word  ? 

Mop,  Do  and  wee  will  bume  our  caps. 

Fris,  Are  not  we  fooles  ? 

lo.  Is  that  a  wise  word  ? 

Fris.  Giue  me  leaue :  are  not  we  fooles  to  weare  our  yong  feete  to  old  65 
stumps,  when  there  dwells  a  cunning  man  in  a  Caue  hereby,  who  for 
a  bunch  of  rootes,  a  bagge  of  nuts,  or  a  bushell  of  crabs,  will  tell  vs,  where 
thou  shalt  finde  thy  maister,  and  which  of  our  maisters  shall  win  the 
wenches  fauour? 

36  Bullen  corrects  to  too't 


sc.li]  THE   MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  369 

lo.   Bring  me  to  him  Frisco^  lie  giue  him  all  the  poynts  at  my  hose,  70 
to  poynt  me  right  to  my  maister. 

Mop,  A  bottle  of  whey  shall  be  his  meed,  if  he  saue  me  labour  for 
posting  with  presents. 

Enter  Aramanthus,  with  his  Glohe^  6f*c, 

Fris,  Here  he  comes,  offend  him  not  Icculo^  for  feare  he  tume  thee 
to  a  lacke  an  Apes.  75 

Mop.  And  thee  to  an  Owle. 

lo.  And  thee  to  a  Wood-cocke. 

Fris,  A  Wood-cocke,  an  Owle,  and  an  Ape  ? 

Mop,  A  long  bill,  a  broade  face,  and  no  tayle  ? 

lo,   Kisse  it  Mopso,  and  be  quiet,  He  salute  him  ciuilly.    Good  speed  80 
good  man. 

Aram,  Welcome  bad  boy. 

Fris,  He  speakes  to  thee  loculo, 

lo.   Meaning  thee  Frisco, 
Aram,   I  speake,  and  meane  not  him,  nor  him,  nor  thee,  ^ 

But  speaking  so,  I  speake  and  meane,  all  three. 

lo.  If  ye  be  good  at  Rimes  and  Riddles  old  man,  expound  me  this. 
These  two  seme  two,  those  two  serue  one, 
Assoyle  me  this,  and  I  am  gone. 
Aram,  You  three  serue  three :  those  three  do  seeke  to  one,  9° 

One  shall  her  finde,  he  comes,  and  she  is  gone. 

lo.  This  is  a  wise  answer :  her  going  causd  his  comming,  for  if  she 
had  nere  gone,  he  had  nere  come. 

Mop,  Good  maister  wizard,  leaue  these  murlemewes,  and  tel  Mopso 
plainly,  whether  Gemulo  my  maister,  that  gentle  shepheard,  shall  win  95 
the  loue  of  the  faire  shepherdesse  his  flock-keeper  or  not,  and  lie  giue  ye 
a  bottell  of  as  good  whey,  as  ere  ye  laid  lips  too. 

Fris,  And  good  father  Fortune-teller,  let  Frisco  knowe,  whither  Siluio 
my  maister  that  lustie  Forrester,  shal  gaine  that  same  gay  shepherdesse 
or  no  ?    He  promise  ye  nothing  for  your  paines,  but  a  bag  full  of  nuts :  if  '^^ 
/  bring  a  crab  or  two  in  my  pocket,  take  them  for  aduantage. 

lo.  And  gentle  maister  wise-man,  tell  loculo^  if  his  noble  Maister 
Ascanio^  that  gallant  Courtier,  shalbe  found  by  me,  and  she  found  by 
him,  for  whom,  he  hath  lost  his  fathers  fauour,  and  his  owne  libertie,  and 
I  my  labour,  and  He  giue  ye  thankes :  for  we  Courtiers,  neither  giue  nor  105 
take  bribes. 

Aram,   I  take  your  meaning  better  then  your  speech. 
And  I  will  graunt  the  thing  you  doo  beseech: 
But  for  the  teares  of  Louers  be  no  toyes. 
He  tell  their  chaunce  in  parables  to  Boyes.  no 

74-5»  92-3.  ^  verscy  Q 

BOND  III  B    D 


370  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  in,  sc  ii 

Frts,     In  what  ye  will,  lets  heare  our  maisters  luck« 
Aram.  Thy  maisters  Doe,  shall  tume  vnto  a  Buck. 

To  Mofiso, 

Thy  maisters  Eawe,  be  chaunged  to  a  Ram, 

To  loculo. 

Thy  maister  seeks  a  maide,  and  findes  a  man. 

Yet  for  his  labor  shall  he  gaine  his  meede,  115 

The  other  two  shall  sigh,  to  see  him  speede. 
Mop,  Then  my  maister  shall  not  win  the  shepheardesse  ? 
Aram.  No:  hast  thee  home,  and  bid  him  right  his  wrong, 

The  shepheardesse  wil  leaue  his  flock  ere  long. 
Mof.  He  run  to  wame  my  master  of  that.  Exit.    120 

Fris.  My  maister  wood-man,  takes  but  woodden  paines  to  no  purpose 
I  thinke,  what  say  ye,  shall  he  speede  ? 
Aram.  No :  tell  him  so,  and  bid  him  tend  his  Deare : 

And  cease  to  woe,  he  shall  not  wed  this  yeare. 
Fris.  I  am  not  sorie  for  it,  farewell  loculo.  Exit.    125 

lo.  I  may  goe  with  thee,  for  I  shall  speed  euen  so  too,  by  staying  be- 
hinde. 
Aram.  Better  my  Boy,  thou  shalt  thy  maister  finde, 

And  he  shall  finde  the  partie  he  requires: 

And  yet  not  finde  the  summe  of  his  desires.  130 

Keep  on  that  way,  thy  maister  walkes  before, 

Whom  when  thou  find'st,  loose  him  good  Boy  no  more. 

Exit  ambo. 

ACT.   4. 

<SCENB  I.) 

Enter  Ascanio^  and  loculo. 

Asca.  Shall  then  my  trauell  euer  endles  proue? 

That  I  can  heare  no  tydings  of  my  Loue  ? 

In  neither  desart,  groue,  nor  shadie  wood. 

Nor  obscure  thicket,  where  my  foote  hath  trod? 

But  euery  plough-man,  and  rude  shepheard  swain,  5 

Doth  still  reply  vnto  my  greater  paine? 

Some  Satyre  then,  or  Goddesse  of  this  place, 

Some  water  Nymph,  vouchsafe  me  so  much  grace 

As  by  some  view,  some  signe,  or  other  sho, 

I  may  haue  knowledge  if  she  Hue  or  no.  lo 

Eccho.  No. 
Asca.  Then  my  poore  hart  is  buried  too  in  wo : 

Record  it  once  more,  if  the  truth  be  so  ? 
Eccho,  So. 


ACTiv,sc.i]     THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  371 

Asca,  How,  that  Eurymine  is  dead,  or  liues?  15 

Eccho,  Liues. 

Asca.  Now  gentle  Goddesse  thou  redeem'st  my  soule 

From  death  to  life:    Oh  tell  me  quickly  where? 
Eccho,  Where? 

Asca,  In  some  remote  far  region,  or  else  neere?  20 

Eccho,  Neere. 
Asca,  Oh  what  conceales  her  from  my  thirstie  eies? 

Is  it  restraint  ?  or  some  vnknowne  disguise  ? 
Eccho,  Disguise. 

lo.  Let  me  be  hangd  my  Lord,  but  all  is  lyes.  25 

Eccho,  Lyes. 

lo.  True,  we  are  both  perswaded  thou  doest  lye. 
Eccho,  Thou  doest  lye. 
lo.  Who  I  ? 

Eccho,  Who  I?  30 

lo,  I  thou. 
Eccho,  I  thou. 

lo.  Thou  dar'st  not  come  and  say  so  to  my  face. 
Eccho,  Thy  face. 

Jo,   He  make  you  then  for  euer  prating  more.  35 

Eccho,  More. 

lo.  Will  ye  prate  more?    He  see  that  presently, 
Ascha.  Stay  loculo^  it  is  the  Eccho  Boy, 

That  mocks  our  griefe,  and  laughes  at  our  annoy. 

Hard  by  this  groue  there  is  a  goodly  plaine  40 

Betwixt  two  hils,  still  fresh  with  drops  of  raine : 

Where  neuer  spreading  Oake  nor  Poplar  grew. 

Might  hinder  the  prospect  or  other  view, 

But  all  the  country  that  about  it  lyes, 

Presents  it  selfe  vnto  our  mortall  eyes:  45 

Saue  that  vpon  each  hill,  by  leauie  trees, 

The  Sun  at  highest,  his  scorching  heat  may  leese. 

There  languishing  my  selfe  I  will  betake. 

As  heauen  shall  please,  and  only  for  her  sake. 

lo.  Stay  maister,  I  haue  spied  the  fellow  now,  that  mockt  vs  all  this 
while :  see  where  he  sits.  51 

Aramanthus  sitting, 

Asca,  The  very  shape  my  Vision  told  me  off. 

That  I  should  meet  with  as  I  strayd  this  way. 
Jo,  What  lynes  he  drawes?  best  go  not  ouer  farre. 
Asca,  Let  me  alone,  thou  doest  but  trouble  mee.  55 

Jo,  Youle  trouble  vs  all  annon,  ye  shall  see. 

Bb  2 


372.  THE  MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iv 

Asca,  God  speed  faire  Sir. 

lo.  My  Lord  doo  ye  not  marke? 

How  the  skie  thickens,  and  begins  to  darke? 
Asca.   Health  to  ye  Sir. 

lo.  Nay  then  God  be  our  speed. 

Ara,  Forgiue  me  Sir,  I  sawe  ye  not  in  deed.  60 

Asca.   Pardon  me  rather,  for  molesting  you. 
lo.  Such  another  face  I  neuer  knew. 
Ara.  Thus  studious  I  am  wont  to  passe  the  time. 

By  true  proportion,  of  each  line  from  line. 
lo.  Oh  now  I  see  he  was  learning  to  spell,  65 

Theres  A.  B.  C.  in  midst  oi  his  table. 
Asca.  Tel  me  I  pray  ye  sir,  may  I  be  bold  to  craue 

The  cause  of  your  abode  within  this  Caue  ? 
Ara.  To  tell  you  that  in  this  extreme  distresse. 

Were  but  a  tale  of  Fortunes  ficklenesse.  70 

Sometime  I  was  a  Prince  of  Lesbos  He, 

And  liu'd  belou'd,  whilst  my  good  stars  did  smile : 

But  clowded  once  with  this  worids  bitter  crosse. 

My  ioy  to  grife,  my  gaine  conuerts  to  losse. 
Asca.   Forward  I  pray  ye,  faint  not  in  your  tale.  75 

lo.  It  will  not  all  be  worth  a  cup  of  Ale. 
Ara.  A  short  discourse  of  that  which  is  too  long 

How  euer  pleasing,  can  neuer  seeme  but  wrong: 

Yet  would  my  tragicke  story  fit  the  stage, 

Pleasaunt  in  youth,  but  wretched  in  mine  age.  80 

Blinde  Fortune  setting  vp  and  pulling  downe, 

Abusde  by  those  my  selfe  raisde  to  renowne : 

But  y*  which  wrings  me  neer,  and  wounds  my  hart. 

Is  a  false  brothers  base  vnthankfull  part. 
Asc.  A  smal  offence  comparde  with  my  disease,  85 

No  doubt  ingratitude  in  time  may  cease 

And  be  forgot :  my  grief  out-liues  all  howres : 

Raining  on  my  head,  continual  haplesse  showers. 
Ara.  You  sing  of  yours,  and  I  of  mine  relate : 

To  euery  one,  seemes  worst  his  owne  estate.  90 

But  to  proceed,  exiled  thus  by  spight, 

Both  country  I  foigoe,  and  brothers  sight: 

And  comming  hither  where  I  thought  to  Hue, 

Vet  here  I  cannot  but  lament  and  greeue. 
Asca.  Some  comfort  yet  in  this  there  doth  remaine:  95 

That  you  haue  found  a  partner  in  your  paine. 
Ara.   How  are  your  sorrowes  subiect,  let  me  heare? 
Asca.  More  ouerthrowne,  and  deeper  in  dispaire 


sc.  i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  373 

Than  is  the  manner  of  your  heauie  smart, 

My  curelesse  griefe,  doth  ranckle  at  my  hart  loo 

And  in  a  word,  to  heare  the  summe  of  all, 

I  loue,  and  am  belou'd:  but  there-withall 

The  sweetnesse  of  that  banquet  must  forgo. 

Whose  pleasant  tast  is  chaungde  with  bitter  wo. 
Ara,  A  conflict,  but  to  try  your  noble  minde,  105 

As  common  vnto  youth,  as  raine  to  winde. 
Asca,  But  hence  it  is  that  doth  me  treble  wrong, 

Expected  good,  that  is  forborne  so  long : 

Doth  loose  the  vertue  which  the  vse  would  proue. 
Ara.  Are  you  then  sir,  despised  of  your  Loue  ?  i  lo 

Asca.  No,  but  depriued  of  her  company. 

And  for  my  careles  negligence  therein: 

Am  bound  to  doo  this  penaunce  for  my  sin. 

That  if  I  neuer  finde  where  she  remaines, 

I  vowe  a  yeare  shalbe  my  end  of  paines.  115 

Ara,  Was  she  then  lost  within  this  Forrest  here? 
Asc,   Lost  or  forlorn,  to  me  she  was  right  deere. 

And  this  is  certaine,  vnto  him  that  could 

The  place  where  she  abides  to  me  vnfold : 

For  euer  I  would  vow  my  selfe  his  friend,  120 

Neuer  reuolting  till  my  life  did  end. 

And  therefore  sir,  (as  well  as  I  know  your  skill) 

If  you  will  giue  me  phisicke  for  this  ill, 

And  shewe  me  if  Eurymine  do  Hue, 

/t  were  a  recompence  for  all  my  paine,  1 25 

And  /  should  thinke  my  ioyes  were  full  againe. 
Ara,  They  know  the  want  of  health  that  haue  bene  sick, 

My  selfe  sometime  acquainted  with  the  like 

Do  leame  in  dutie  of  a  kinde  regard, 

To  pittie  him  whose  hap  hath  bene  so  hard.  130 

How  long  /  pray  ye  hath  she  absent  beene  ? 
Asca,  Three  dayes  it  is  since  that  my  Loue  was  seene. 
lo,  Heer's  learning  for  the  nonce,  that  stands  on  ioynts : 

For  all  his  cunning,  ile  scarse  giue  two  poynts. 
Ara.  Mer curio  regnante  virum^  subsequenU  Luna^  135 

Fceminam  designate 

Jo.  Nay  and  you  go  to  latin,  then  tis  sure,  my  maister  shall  finde 
her,  if  he  could  tell  when. 
Ara.   I  cannot  tell  what  reason  it  should  bee. 

But  loue  and  reason  here  doo  disagree.  140 

107  it  is]  Q  misprints  it  it         127  want]  qy.  ?  worth         136  Foeminnm  Q  and 
BuUen        1 38  when]  where  BuU.^  l!y  oversight^  as  he  tiuxkes  no  note 


374  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iv 

By  proofe  of  learned  prindples  I  finde, 

The  manner  of  your  loue's  against  all  kinde. 

And  not  to  feed  ye  with  vncertaine  ioy, 

Whom  you  affect  so  much,  is  but  a  Boy. 
lo,  A  Riddle  for  my  life,  some  Antick  lest,  did  I  not  tell  ye  what  his 
cunning  was?  146 

Asca,  I  loue  a  Boy? 

Ara,  Mine  Art  doth  tell  me  so. 

Asca.  Adde  not  a  fresh  increase  vnto  my  woe. 
Ara,  I  dare  auouch  what  lately  I  haue  saide, 

The  loue  that  troubles  you,  is  for  no  maide.  150 

Asca,  As  well  I  might  be  said  to  touch  the  skie, 

Or  darke  the  horizon  with  tapestrie : 

Or  walke  vpon  the  waters  of  the  sea, 

As  to  be  haunted  with  such  lunacie. 
Ara.  If  it  be  false,  mine  Art  I  will  defie.  155 

Asca.  Amafde  with  griefe,  my  loue  is  then  transform'd. 
lo,   Maister  be  contented,  this  is  leape  yeare. 

Women  weare  breetches,  petticoats  are  deare. 

And  thats  his  meaning,  on  my  life  it  is. 
Asc.  Oh  God,  and  shal  my  torments  neuer  cease?  160 

Ara.  Represse  the  fury  of  your  troubled  minde : 

Walke  here  a  while,  your  Lady  you  may  finde. 
lo.  A  Lady  and  a  Boy,  this  hangs  wel  together: 

Like  snow  in  haruest,  sun-shine  and  foule  weather. 

Entir  Eurymine  singing. 

Since  hope  of  helfie  my  froward  starres^denie^  165 

Come  sweetest  deaths  and  end  my  miserie. 

He  left  his  country^  I  my  shape  haue  lost, 

Deare  is  the  loue,  that  hath  so  dearly  cost, 
Eu,  Yet  can  I  boast,  though  Phoebus  were  vniust 

This  shift  did  seme,  to  barre  him  frova  his  lust.  170 

But  who  are  these  alone?    I  cannot  chuse 

But  blush  for  shame,  that  any  one  should  see, 

Eurymine  in  this  disguise  to  bee. 
Asca,  It  is,  it  is  not  my  loue,  Eurymine. 
Eury,  Hark,  some  one  hallows:  gentlemen  adiew,  175 

In  this  attire  I  dare  not  stay  their  view.  Exit, 

Asca.  My  loue,  my  ioy,  my  life. 

By  eye,  by  face,  by  tongue,  it  should  be  shee. 

Oh  I,  it  was  my  loue,  He  after  her, 

145-6  as  verse^  Q  165-8  Q  prints  the  four  lines  in  romans  like  the  rest,  but 
its  prefix  at  the  ^h  seems  to  mark  transition  from  song  to  speech,  I  italicize 
them  after  Bullen         174  Bullen  corrects  to  It  is  (is't  not ))  ^c. 


sc  i]  THE  MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS  375 

And  though  she  passe  the  Eagle  in  her  flight,  180 

He  ncuer  rest,  till  I  haue  gain'd  her  sight.  Exit, 

Ara,  Loue  carries  him,  and  so  retains  his  mind, 

That  he  forgets  how  I  am  left  behind : 

Yet  will  I  follow  softly,  as  I  can 

In  hope  to  see  the  fortune  of  the  man.  Exit,      185 

lo.   Nay  let  them  go  a  Gods  name,  one  by  one, 

With  (all)  my  heart  /  am  glad  to  be  alone. 

Heres  old  transforming,  would  with  all  his  Art, 

He  could  transforme  this  tree  into  a  tart. 

See  then  if  /  would  flinch  from  hence  or  no :  190 

But  for  it  is  not  so,  /  needs  must  go.  Exit. 


<scENB  n.) 

Enter  SWmo  and  Gemulo. 

Sx7.  Is  it  a  bargaine  Gemulo^  or  not  ? 

Ge.  Thou  neuer  knew'st  me  breake  my  word  /  wot. 

Nor  will  /  now,  betide  me  bale  or  blis. 
S//.  Nor  /  breake  mine,  and  here  her  cottage  is : 

He  call  her  forth. 
Ge,  Will  Siluio  be  so  rude?  5 

S/7.  Neuer  shall  we  betwixt  our  selues  conclude 

Our  controuersie,  for  we  ouerweene. 
Ge,  Not  I,  but  thou,  for  though  thou  iet'st  in  greene, 

As  fresh  as  Meadow  in  a  mome  of  May, 

And  scom'st  the  shepheard,  for  he  goes  in  gray.  10 

But  Forrester,  beleeue  it  as  thy  Creede, 

My  mistresse  mindes  my  person,  not  my  weede. 
Sil,  So  'twas  I  thought,  because  she  tends  thy  sheepe 

Thou  thinkst  in  loue  of  thee  she  taketh  keepe : 

That  is  as  townish  damzels  lend  the  hand,  15 

But  send  the  heart  to  him  aloofe  doth  stand. 

So  deales  Eurymine  with  Siluio. 
Ge.  Albe  she  looke  more  blithe  on  Gemulo^ 

Her  heart  is  in  the  dyall  of  her  eye, 

That  poynts  me  hers. 
S/7.  That  shall  we  quickly  trye.  20 

Eurymine. 
Ge.  Erynnis  stop  thy  throte, 

Vnto  thy  hound  thou  hallowst  such  a  note : 

I  thought  that  shepheards  had  bene  mannerlesse. 

But  Wood-men  are  the  ruder  groomes  I  guesse. 


376  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  iv 

Sii.  How  shuld  I  cal  her  Swain,  but  by  her  name?    .  25 

Ge.  So  Hobinoll  the  plow-man,  calls  his  dame. 

Call  her  in  Carroll  from  her  quiet  coate. 
S/7.  Agreed:  but  whether  shall  begin  his  note. 
Ge,  Draw  cuttes. 

S//.  Content,  the  longest  shall  begin. 

Ge.  Tis  min^. 

S/7.  Sing  loude,  for  she  is  farre  within.  30 

Ge.  Instruct  thy  singing  in  thy  Forrest  waies. 

Shepheards  know  how  to  chant  their  roundelaies. 
S//.  Repeat  our  bargain,  ere  we  sing  our  Song. 

Least  after  wrangling,  should  our  mistresse  wrong. 

If  me  she  chuse,  thou  must  be  well  content :  35 

If  thee  she  chuse,  I  giue  thee  like  consent. 
Ge,  Tis  done :  now  Pan  pipe  on  thy  sweetest  Reede, 

And  as  /  loue,  so  let  thy  seruaunt  speede. 

As  little  Lambes  lift  vp  their  snowie  sides^ 
When  mounting  Larke  salutes  the  gray-eyed  mome  :  40 

Si7.  As  from  the  Oaken  leaues  the  honie  glides^ 

Where  Nightingales  record  vpon  the  thome, 
Ge,  So  rise  my  thoughts. 

Sil.  So  all  my  sences  cheere, 

Ge.  When  she  surueyes  my  flocks, 

Sil,  And  she  my  Deare, 

Ge,  Eurymine.  45 

Sil,  Eurymine. 

Ge,         Come  foorth, 
Sil,  Come  foorth, 

Ge,  Come  foorth  emd  cheere  these  plaines. 

And  both  sing  this  togither,  when  they  haue  sung  it  single, 
Sil,         The  Wood-mans  Loue. 
Ge,  And  Lady  of  the  Swaynes, 

Enter  Eurymine, 

Faire  Forester  and  lonely  shepheard  Swaine, 

Your  CarroUs  call  Eurymine  in  vaine:  50 

For  she  is  gone,  her  Cottage  and  her  sheepe. 

With  me  her  brother,  hath  she  left  to  keepe: 

And  made  me  sweare  by  Pan^  ere  she  did  go, 

To  see  them  safely  kept,  for  Gemulo. 

They  both  looke  straungely  vpon  her,  apart  ectch  from  other. 
Ge.  What?  hath  my  Loue  a  new  come  Louer  than?  55 

Sil,  What?  hath  my  Mistresse  got  another  man? 

39  Only  the  first  four  lines  are  italicized  in  Q 


sen]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  377 

Ge.  This  Swayne  will  rob  me  of  Eurymine, 

SiL  This  youth  hath  power  to  win  Eurymine, 

Ge.  This  straungers  beautie  beares  away  my  prize. 

Sil,  This  straunger  will  bewitch  her  with  his  eies.  60 

Ge,  It  is  Adonis, 

Sil,  It  is  Ganymede, 

Ge,  My  blood  is  chill. 

Sil,  My  heart  is  cold  as  Leade. 

Eu.  Faire  youthes,  you  haue  forgot  for  what  ye  came. 

You  seeke  your  Loue,  shee's  gone. 
Ge,  The  more  too  blame. 

Eu,  Not  so,  my  sister  had  no  will  to  go:  65 

But  that  our  parents  dread  commaund  was  so. 
S/7.   It  is  thy  scuse,  thou  art  not  of  her  kin, 

But  as  my  Ryuall,  com'ste  my  Loue  to  win. 
Eu,  By  great  Apollos  sacred  Deitie, 

That  shepheardesse  so  neare  is  Sib  to  me,  70 

As  I  ne  may  (for  all  this  world)  her  wed: 

For  she  and  I  in  one  selfe  wombe  were  bred. 

But  she  is  gone,  her  flocke  is  left  to  mee. 
Ge,  The  shepcoat's  mine,  and  I  will  in  and  see. 
S/7.  And  I.  Exeunt  Siluio  and  Gemulo, 

Eu,  Go  both,  cold  comfort  shall  you  finde,  75 

My  manly  shape,  hath  yet  a  womans  minde: 

Prone  to  reueale  what  secret  she  doth  know, 

God  pardon  me,  I  was  about  to  show 

My  transformation:  peace  they  come  againe. 

Enter  Siluio,  and  Gemulo. 

Sil.  Haue  ye  found  her? 

Ge,  No,  we  looke  in  vaine.  80 

Eu,  I  told  ye  so. 

Ge,  Yet  heare  me,  new-come  Swayne. 

Albe  thy  seemly  feature  set  no  sale 

But  honest  truth  vpon  thy  nouell  tale. 

Yet  (for  this  world  is  full  of  subtiltie) 

We  wish  thee  goe  with  vs  for  companie  85 

Vnto  a  Wise-man  wonning  in  this  wood, 

Right  AramanlAf  whose  wit  and  skill  is  good: 

That  he  may  certifie  our  mazing  doubt. 

How  this  straunge  chaunce  and  chaunge  hath  fallen  out. 
Eu,   I  am  content :  haue  with  ye,  when  ye  will.  90 

Sil,  £uen  now. 
Eu,  Hee'le  make  ye  muse,  if  he  haue  any  skill.     Exeunt, 


378  THE  MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS  [act  v 


ACT.   5. 

(Scene  I.) 

Enter  Ascanio^  and  Eurymine. 

Asca,  EuryminCy  I  pray  if  thou  be  shee, 

Refraine  thy  haste,  and  doo  not  flie  from  mee. 

The  time  hath  bene  my  words  thou  wouldst  allow, 

And  am  I  growne  so  loathsome  to  thee  now? 
Eu,  Ascanio^  time  hath  bene  I  must  confesse,  5 

When  in  thy  presence  was  my  happinesse: 

But  now  the  manner  of  my  miserie, 

Hath  chaung'd  that  course,  that  so  it  cannot  be. 
Asca,  What  wrong  haue  I  contriued  ?  what  iniurie 

To  alienate  thy  liking  so  from  me  ?  10 

If  thou  be  she  whom  sometime  thou  didst  faine, 

And  bearest  not  the  name  of  friend  in  vaine. 

Let  not  thy  borrowed  guise  of  altred  kinde, 

Alter  the  wonted  liking  of  thy  minde : 

But  though  in  habit  of  a  man  thou  goest,  15 

Yet  be  the  same  Eurymine  thou  wast. 
Eu.   How  gladly  would  I  be  thy  Lady  still, 

If  earnest  vowes  might  answere  to  my  will  ? 
Asca.  And  is  thy  fancie  alterd  with  thy  guise? 

Eu,  My  kinde,  but  not  my  minde  in  any  wise.  20 

Asca,  What  though  thy  habit  differ  from  thy  kind: 

Thou  maiest  retain  thy  wonted  louing  mind. 
Eu.  And  so  I  doo. 
Asca.  Then  why  art  thou  so  straunge  ? 

Or  wherefore  doth  thy  plighted  fancie  chaunge  ? 
Eu,  AscaniOj  my  heart  doth  honor  thee.  25 

Asc,  And  yet  continuest  stil  so  strange  to  me  ? 
Eu.  Not  strange,  so  far  as  kind  wil  giue  me  leaue. 
Asca.  Vnkind  that  kind,  that  kindnesse  doth  bereaue: 

Thou  saist  thou  louest  me. 
Eu.  As  a  friend  his  friend: 

And  so  I  vowe  to  loue  thee  to  the  end.  30 

Asca.  I  wreake  not  of  such  loue,  loue  me  but  so 

As  faire  Eurymine  lou'd  Ascanio. 
Eu.  That  loue^s  denide  vnto  my  present  kinde. 
Asca.  In  kindly  shewes,  vnkinde  I  doo  thee  finder 

I  see  thou  art  as  constant  as  the  winde.  35 


sc.  i]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  379 

Eu.  Doth  kind  allow  a  man  to  loue  a  man? 

Asca.  Why  art  not  thou  Euryminel 

Eu.  I  am. 

Ksca,  Eurymine  my  Loue? 

Eu.  The  very  same. 

Pisca,  And  wast  not  thou  a  woman  then? 

Eu.  Most  true. 

ks.  And  art  thou  changed  from  a  woman  now  ?  40 

Eu.  Too  true. 

ksc.  These  tales  my  mind  perplex: 

Thou  art  Eurymine. 
Eu.  In  name,  but  not  in  sexe. 

ksca.  What  then? 
Eu.  A  man. 

ksca.  In  guise  thou  art  I  see. 

Eu.  The  guise  thou  seest,  doth  with  my  kinde  agree. 
ksca.  Before  thy  flight  thou  wast  a  woman  tho.  45 

Eu,  True  kscanio. 

ksca.  And  since  art  thou  a  man? 

Eu.  Too  true  deare  friend. 

ksca.  Then  haue  I  lost  a  wife. 

Eu.   But  found  a  friend,  whose  dearest  blood  and  life, 

Shalbe  as  readie  as  thine  owne  for  thee: 

/n  place  of  wife,  such  friend  thou  hast  of  mee.  50 

Enter  loculo^  and  kramanthus. 
lo.  I  here  they  are:  maister  well  ouertane, 

/  thought  we  two  should  neuer  meete  againe : 

You  went  so  fast,  that  I  to  follow  ye, 

Slipt  ouer  hedge  and  ditch,  and  many  a  tall  tree. 
kra.  Well  said  my  Boy,  thou  knowest  not  how  to  lie.  55 

lo.  To  lye  Sir?  how  say  you  was  it  not  so? 

You  were  at  my  heeles,  though  farre  off,  ye  know: 

For  maister,  not  to  counterfayt  with  ye  now, 

Hee's  as  good  a  footeman  as  a  shackled  sow. 
ksca.  Good  Sir  y'are  welcome,  sirrha  hold  your  prate.  60 

kra.  What  speed  in  that  I  told  to  you  of  late  ? 
Asca.  Both  good  and  bad,  as  doth  the  sequell  proue. 

For  (wretched)  I  haue  found,  and  lost  my  Loue. 

If  that  be  lost  which  I  can  nere  enioy. 
lo.  Faith  Mistresse  y'are  too  blame  to  be  so  coy.  65 

The  day  hath  bene,  but  what  is  that  to  mee: 

When  more  familiar  with  a  man  you'ld  bee. 
Ara.  I  told  ye  you  should  finde  a  man  of  her : 

Or  else  my  rule  did  very  straungely  erre. 


38o  THE   MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS  [act  v 

Asca,  Father,  the  triall  of  your  skill  I  finde,  70 

My  Loue's  transformde  into  another  kinde: 

And  so  I  finde,  and  yet  haue  lost  my  Loue. 
lo.  Ye  cannot  tell,  take  her  aside  and  proue. 
Asca.  But  sweet  Eurymine  make  some  report 

Why  thou  departedst  from  my  fathers  Court  ?  75 

And  how  this  straunge  mishap  to  thee  befell. 

Let  me  intreat  thou  wouldst  the  processe  telL 
Eu.  To  shew  how  I  arriued  in  this  ground, 

Were  but  renewing  of  an  auncient  wound  : 

Another  time  that  office  ile  fulfill,  So 

Let  it  suffice,  I  came  against  my  will. 

And  wandring  here  about  this  Forrest  side, 

It  was  my  chaunce  of  Phcebus  to  be  spide. 

Whose  loue  because  1  chastly  did  withstand. 

He  thought  to  offer  me  a  violent  hand.  85 

But  for  a  present  shift  to  shun  his  rape, 

I  wisht  my  selfe  transformde  into  this  shape : 

Which  he  performed  (God  knowes)  against  his  wil: 

And  I  since  then,  haue  wayld  my  fortune  still. 

Not  for  misliking  ought  I  finde  in  mee,  90 

But  for  thy  sake,  whose  wife  I  meant  to  bee. 
Ksca.  Thus  haue  you  heard  our  woful  destenie. 

Which  I  in  heart  lament,  and  so  doth  she. 
Ara.  The  fittest  remedie  that  I  can  finde. 

Is  this,  to  ease  the  torment  of  your  minde.  95 

Perswade  your  selues  that  great  hpollo  can, 

As  easily  make  a  woman  of  a  man, 

As  contrariwise  he  made  a  man  of  her. 
AsccL   I  thinke  no  lesse. 
Ara.  Then  humble  suite  preferre 

To  him:  perhaps  your  prayers  may  attaine,  100 

To  haue  her  tumd  into  her  forme  againe. 
Eu.  But  Phcebus  such  disdain  to  me  doth  beare, 

As  hardly  we  shall  win  his  graunt  I  feare. 
Ara,  Then  in  these  verdant  fields  al  richly  dide, 

With  natures  gifts,  and  Floras  painted  pride:  105 

There  is  a  goodly  spring  whose  christal  streames 

Beset  with  myrtles,  keepe  backe  Phcebus  beames: 

There  in  rich  seates  all  wrought  of  luory. 

The  Graces  sit,  listening  the  melodye: 

The  warbling  Birds  doo  from  their  prettie  billes  no 

Vnite  in  corcord,  as  the  brooke  distilles. 

Whose  gentle  murmure  with  his  buzzing  noates. 


sc.  i]  THE   MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS  381 

Is  as  a  base  vnto  their  hollow  throates. 

Garlands  beside  they  weare  vpon  their  browes. 

Made  of  all  sorts  of  flowers  earth  allowes :  115 

From  whence  such  fragrant  sweet  perfumes  arise, 

As  you  would  sweare  that  place  is  Paradise. 

To  them  let  vs  repaire  with  humble  hart. 

And  meekly  shew  the  manner  of  your  smart : 

So  gratious  are  they  in  ApoUas  eies,  120 

As  their  intreatie  quickly  may  suffice. 

In  your  behalfe,  He  tell  them  of  your  states, 

And  craue  their  aides,  to  stand  your  aduocates. 
Asca,  For  euer  you  shall  bind  vs  to  you  than. 

Ara,  Come  go  with  me:   He  doo  the  best  I  can.  125 

(^Exeunt ^  except  JOCULO.) 
lo.   Is  not  this  hard  luck  to  wander  so  long, 

And  in  the  end  to  finde  his  wife  markt  wrong. 

Enter  Phy lander, 

A  proper  iest  as  euer  I  heard  tell. 

In  sooth,  me  thinks  the  breech  becomes  her  well : 

And  might  it  not  make  their  husbands  feare  them,  130 

Wold  all  the  wiues  in  our  town  might  wear  them. 
Phy.  Tell  me  youth,  art  a  straunger  here  or  no? 
lo.   Is  your  commission  sir,  to  examine  me  so? 
Phy.  What  is  it  thou  ?  now  by  my  troth  wel  met. 
lo.   By  your  leaue,  it*s  well  ouertaken  yet.  135 

Phy.   I  litle  thought  I  should  a  found  thee  here. 
lo.   Perhaps  so  sir. 

Phy,  I  prethee  speake,  what  cheere? 

lo.   What  cheere  can  here  be  hopte  for  in  these  woods? 

Except  trees,  stones,  bryars,  bushes,  or  buddes? 
Phy,  My  meaning  is,  I  faine  would  heare  thee  say,  140 

How  thou  doest  man,  why  tak'st  thou  this  another  way. 
lo.  Why  then  sir,  I  doo  as  well  as  I  may. 

And  to  perswade  ye,  that  welcome  ye  bee, 

Wilt  please  ye  sir,  to  eate  a  crab  with  mee  ? 
Phy.  Beleeue  me  loculoy  reasonable  hard  cheere.  145 

lo.  Phylander^  tis  the  best  we  can  get  heere. 

But  when  retume  ye  to  the  Court  againe? 
Phy.  Shortly,  now  1  haue  found  thee. 
lo.  To  requite  your  paine, 

s.  D.  [Exeunt  ^c^  omitted  Q  and Bullen        130  them]  Bullen  rightly  corrects 
then^^  13a  Phy.]  the  prefix  omitted  in  Q  and  Bullen  141  tak'st 

thou]  thou  tak'st  Q  Bull. 


382  THE   MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [act  v 

Shall  I  intreat  you  beare  a  present  from  me  ? 
Phy,  To  whom  ? 
lo.  To  the  Duke. 

Phy.  What  shall  it  be?  150 

lo.  Because  Venson  so  oonuenient  doth  not  fall, 

A  pecke  of  Acomes  to  make  meny  withall. 
Phy,  What  meanest  thou  by  that  ? 
lo.  By  my  troth  sir  as  ye  see, 

Acomes  are  good  enough  for  such  as  hee. 

I  wish  his  honour  well,  and  to  doo  him  good:  155 

Would  he  had  eaten  aU  the  Acorns  in  th'  wood. 
Phy.  Good  words  locuh,  of  your  Lord  &  mine. 
lo.  As  may  agree  with  such  a  churlish  swine. 

How  dooes  his  honor? 
Phy.  Indifferently  well. 

lo.  I  wish  him  better. 
Phy.  How  ? 

lo.  Vice-gexent  in  helL  160 

Phy.  Doest  thou  wish  so,  for  ought  that  he  hath  done  ? 
lo.  I  for  the  loue  he  beares  vnto  his  sonne. 
Phy.  Hees  g^wne  of  late,  as  fatherly  and  milde. 

As  euer  father  was  vnto  his  childe: 

And  sent  me  forth  to  search  the  coast  about,  165 

If  so  my  hap  might  be  to  finde  him  out 

And  if  Eurymine  aliue  remaine, 

To  bring  them  both  vnto  the  Court  againe. 

Where  is  thy  maister? 
Jo.  Walking  about  the  ground. 

Phy.  Oh  that  his  Loue  Eurymine  were  found.  170 

lo.  Why  so  she  is,  come  follow  me  and  see. 

He  bring  ye  strait  where  they  remaining  bee.  Exeunt. 

(Scene  II.) 

Enter  three  or  foure  Muses ^  AramanthuSy  AscaniOy  Situto, 

and  Gemulo. 

Asca.  Cease  your  contention  for  Eurymine. 
Nor  wordes,  nor  vowes,  can  helpe  her  miserie: 
But  he  it  is  that  did  her  first  transforme. 
Must  calme  the  gloomy  rigor  of  this  storme : 

Great  Phcsbus^  whose  Pallace  we  are  neere,  5 

Salute  him  then  in  his  celestiall  sphere: 
That  with  the  notes  of  cheerfull  harmonie, 
He  may  be  mou'd  to  shewe  his  Deitie. 


sc.li]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  383 

St'l,  But  wheres  Eurymine,  haue  we  lost  her  sight  ? 

As.  Poore  soule,  within  a  caue,  with  fear  affright  10 

She  sits,  to  shun  Apollos  ang^  view, 

Vntill  she  see  what  of  our  prayers  ensue: 

If  we  can  reconcile  his  loue  or  no, 

Or  that  she  must  continue  in  her  woe, 
I.  Mu.  Once  haue  we  tried  Ascanio^  for  thy  sake  15 

And  once  againe  we  will  his  power  awake : 

Not  doubting  but  as  he  is  of  heauenly  race. 

At  length  he  will  take  pitie  on  her  case. 

Sing  therefore,  and  each  partie  from  his  heart, 

In  this  our  musicke,  beare  a  chearefull  part.  20 

All  haile  /aire  Phoebus,  in  thy  purple  throne, 
Vouchsafe  the  regarding  of  our  deepe  mone. 
Hide  not,  oh  hide  not,  thy  comfortable  face, 
But  pittie,  hut  pittie,  a  virgins  poore  case. 

Phoebus  appeares. 

1.  Muse,  Illustrate  bewtie,  Christall  heauens  eye,  25 
Once  more  we  do  entreat  thy  demencie : 

That  as  thou  art  the  power  of  vs  all. 
Thou  would'st  redeeme  Eurymine  from  thrall. 
Graunt  gentle  God,  graunt  this  our  small  request, 
And  if  abilitie  in  vs  do  rest :  30 

Whereby  we  euer  may  deserue  the  same. 
It  shalbe  seene,  we  reuerence  Phoebus  name. 
Phoe.  You  sacred  sisters  of  faire  Helli{c')on, 
On  whom  my  fauours  euermore  haue  shone. 

In  this  you  must  haue  patience  with  my  vow,  35 

I  cannot  graunt  what  you  aspire  vnto. 
Nor  was't  my  fault,  she  was  transformed  so, 
But  her  owne  fond  desire,  as  ye  well  know. 
We  told  her  too,  before  her  vow  was  past, 

That  cold  repentance  would  ensue  at  last.  40 

And  sith  her  selfe  did  wish  the  shape  of  man, 
She  causde  the  abuse,  digest  it  how  she  can. 

2.  Muse,  Alas,  if  vnto  her  you  be  so  hard. 
Yet  of  Ascanio  haue  some  more  regard. 

And  let  him  not  endure  such  endlesse  wrong,  45 

That  hath  pursude  her  constant  loue  so  long. 

a  1-4  All  haile  .  .  .  case]  the  four  lines  are  not  italicized  in  Q 


384  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  [actv 

Asca,  Great  God,  the  greeuous  trauells  I  haue  past, 

In  restlesse  search,  to  find  her  out  at  last : 

My  plaints  my  toiles,  in  lieu  of  my  annoy, 

Haue  well  deseru'd  my  Lady  to  enioy.  5° 

Penance  too  much  I  haue  sustaind  before: 

Oh  PhaebuSy  plague  me  not  with  any  more. 

Nor  be  thou  so  extreame,  now  at  the  worst 

To  make  my  torments  greater  than  at  the  first. 

My  Fathers  late  displeasure  is  forgot,  55 

And  theres  no  let,  nor  any  churlish  blot 

To  interrupt  our  ioyes  from  being  compleat. 

But  only  thy  good  fauour  to  intreat: 

In  thy  great  grace  it  lyes  to  make  my  state 

Most  happie  now,  or  most  infortunate.  60 

I  Mu,  Heauenly  Apollo,  on  our  knees  I  pray, 

Vouchsafe  thy  great  displeasure  to  allay. 

What  honor  to  thy  Godhead  will  arise, 

To  plague  a  silly  Lady  in  this  wise? 

Beside,  it  is  a  staine  vnto  thy  Deitie,  65 

To  yeeld  thine  owne  desires  the  soueraigntie : 

Then  shew  some  grace  vnto  a  wofull  Dame, 

And  in  these  groues,  our  tongues  shall  sound  thy  fame. 
Phce,  Arise  deare  Nourses  of  diuinest  skill. 

You  sacred  Muses  of  Pemassus  hill :  70 

Phoebus  is  conquerd  by  your  deare  respect, 

And  will  no  longer  clemency  neglect. 

You  haue  not  sude  nor  praide  to  me  in  vaine : 

I  graunt  your  willes,  she  is  a  mayd  againe. 
Asca,  Thy  praise  shal  neuer  die  whilst  I  do  liue.  75 

2.  Mu,  Nor  will  we  slack  perpetual  thankes  to  giue. 
Phoe.   Thalia,  neare  the  Caue  where  she  remaines 

The  Fayries  keepe,  request  them  of  their  paines, 

And  in  my  name,  bid  them  forthwith  prouide. 

From  that  darke  place,  to  be  the  Ladies  g^ide.  '80 

And  in  the  bountie  of  their  liberall  minde. 

To  giue  her  cloathes  according  to  her  kinde. 
I.  Mu.  I  goe  diuine  Apollo,  Exit 

Phoe.  Haste  againe. 

No  time  too  swift,  to  ease  a  Louers  paine. 
Asca.  Most  sacred  Phoebus,  endles  thankes  to  thee,  85 

That  doest  vouchsafe  so  much  to  pittie  mee. 

And  aged  father,  for  your  kindnesse  showne. 

Imagine  not  your  friendship  ill  bestowne. 

The  earth  shall  sooner  vanisH  and  decay, 


sc.  ii]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  3»s 

Than  I  will  proue  vnthankfull  any  way.  90 

Ara,  It  is  sufficient  recompence  to  me. 

If  that  my  silly  helpe  haue  pleasurde  ye. 

If  you  enioy  your  Loue  and  hearts  desire. 

It  is  enough:  nor  doo  I  more  require.  , 

Phoe.  Graue  Aranumthus^  now  I  see  thy  face  95 

I  call  to  minde,  how  tedious  a  long  space 

Thou  hast  frequented  these  sad  desarts  here, 

Thy  time  imployed,  in  heedfull  minde  I  beare: 

The  patient  sufferance  of  thy  former  wrong, 

Thy  poore  estate,  and  sharp  exile  so  long,  loo 

The  honourable  port  thou  bor'st  sometime. 

Till  wrongd  thou  wast,  with  vndeserued  crime 

By  them  whom  thou  to  honour  didst  aduance, 

The  memory  of  which  thy  heauy  chance, 

Prouokes  my  minde  to  take  remorse  on  thee,  105 

Father  henceforth,  my  clyent  shalt  thou  bee: 

And  passe  the  remnant  of  thy  fleeting  time. 

With  Lawrell  wreath,  amongst  the  Muses  nine. 

And  when  thy  age  hath  giuen  place  to  £iite. 

Thou  shalt  exchaunge  thy  former  mortall  state:  no 

And  after  death,  a  palme  of  fame  shalt  weare. 

Amongst  the  rest  that  liue  in  honor  here. 

And  lastly  know,  that  faire  Eurymine 

Redeemed  now  from  former  miserie 

Thy  daughter  is,  whom  I  for  that  intent  115 

Did  hide  from  thee,  in  this  thy  banishment: 

That  so  she  might  the  greater  scourge  sustaine, 

/n  putting  Phoebus  to  so  great  a  paine. 

But  freely  now,  enioy  each  others  sight: 

No  more  Eurymine  \  abandon  quite  1 20 

That  borrowed  name,  as  Atlanta,  she  is  calde. 

And  here  she  woman,  in  her  right  shape  instalde. 
A  sea.  /s  then  my  Loue  deriu'de  of  noble  race  ? 
Pha.  No  more  of  that,  but  mutually  imbrace. 
Ara.   Liues  my  Atlanta^  whom  the  rough  seas  wane  125 

/  thought  had  brought  vnto  a  timelesse  graue  ? 
Phce.  Looke  not  so  straunge,  it  is  thy  fathers  voyce. 

And  this  thy  Loue :  Atlanta  now  reioyce. 
Eu.  As  in  another  world  of  greater  blis 

My  daunted  spirits  doo  stand  amazde  at  this.  130 

So  great  a  tyde.  of  comfort  ouerflowes, 

As  what  to  say,  my  faltering  tongue  scarse  knowes: 
laa  Bulien  corrects  to  And  here's  the  woman 

BOND    III  C   C 


386  THE  MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS  [actv 

But  only  this,  vnperfect  though  it  bee, 

/mmortall  thankes  great  Phcebus  vnto  thee. 
Phce,  Well  Lady,  you  are  retransformed  now,  135 

But  /  am  sure  you  did  repent  your  vow. 
Eury.  Bright  Lampe  of  glory,  pardon  my  rashnesse  past. 
Pha,  The  penance  was  your  owne,  though  /  did  fast. 

Enter  Phyiamier,  and  loculo, 

Asca.  Behold  deare  Loue,  to  make  your  ioyes  abound. 

Yonder  Phylander  comes. 
Jo,  Oh  sir,  well  found.  140 

But  most  especially  it  glads  my  minde, 

To  see  my  mistresse  restorde  to  kinde. 
Phy,  My  Lord  &  Madam,  to  requite  your  pain, 

Telemachus  hath  sent  for  you  againe. 

All  former  quarrels  now  are  trodden  downe,  145 

And  he  doth  smile,  that  heretofore  did  frowne. 
Asca.  Thankes  kinde  Phylander,  for  thy  friendly  newes, 

Like  lunos  balme,  that  our  lifes  blood  renewes. 
Phce,  But  Lady,  first  ere  you  your  ioumey  take, 

Vouchsafe  at  my  request,  one  graunt  to  make.  150 

Eu,  Most  willingly. 
Pha,  The  matter  is  but  small. 

To  weare  a  braunch  of  Lawrell  in  your  Caull 

For  Phcebus  sake,  least  else  /  be  foigot. 

And  thinke  vpon  me,  when  you  see  me  not. 
Eu.  Here  while  I  liue  a  solemne  oath  I  make,  155 

To  loue  the  Lawrell  for  Afiollos  sake. 
Ge.  Our  suite  is  dasht,  we  may  depart  I  see. 
Phcg.  Nay  Gemulo  and  Siluio,  contented  bee: 

This  night  let  me  intreate  ye  you  will  take. 

Such  cheare  as  I  and  these  poore  Dames  can  make.  160 

To  morrow  mome  weele  bring  you  on  your  way. 
.V/7.  Your  Godhead  shall  commaund  vs  all  to  stay. 
PhcB.  Then  Ladies  gratulate  this  happie  chaunce, 

With  some  delightfull  tune  and  pleasaunt  daunce. 

Meane  space,  vpon  his  Harpe  will  Phcebus  play,  165 

So  both  of  them  may  boast  another  day 

And  make  report,  that  when  their  wedding  chaunc'te, 

Phcebus  gaue  musicke,  and  the  Muses  daunc*te. 

149  Phoe.]  Phy.  Q,  by  mistake 


sc.  ii]  THE  MAYDES  METAMORPHOSIS  387 

The  Song. 

Since  painfull  sorrowes  date  hath  end^ 

And  time  hath  coupled  friend  with  friend:  170 

Reioyce  we  all^  reioyce  and  sing^ 

Let  all  these  groaues  of  Phcebus  ring* 

Hope  hauing  wonne,  dispcdre  is  vanisht : 

Pleasure  reuiues,  and  care  is  banisht. 

Then  trippe  we  all  this  Roundelay ^  175 

And  still  be  mindfull  of  the  Bay.  Exeunt. 


FINIS. 


c  c  a 


ANTI-MARTINIST  WORK,  ETC 


EDITIONS  OF  PAPPE 

(i)  A.  Title  as  at  p.  393,  but  having  headpiece  with  bald-headed  boy  in  centre 
and  two  creatnres  with  homed  yet  human  heads  gallopping  from  him. 
40  undated  [1589].  (Bodleian— Douce,  N.  252  (wanting  foL  El): 
Trin.  Coll.  Camb.) 

(3)  B.  Title  as  at  p.  393,  but  having  headpiece  containing  woman's  head  with 
ringlets  in  centre,    j^^  undated  [1589]. 
(Brit.  Mus.  2  copies,  C.  37.  d.  41  and  96.  b.  15  :  King*s  Coll.  Camb.) 

(3)  C.  Title  exactly  as  B.  4*  undated  [1589].  (Bodleian— Malone,  715.) 

(4)  With  Introduction  and  Notes  by  John  Petheram,  forming  No.  3  of  the  series 

Puritan  Discipline  Tracts ^  Lon.  1844,  12°^,  printed  from  (2). 

(5)  Among  Elisabetkan  and  Jacobean  Pamphlets  (Pocket  Library  of  English 

Literature,  vol.  iv.  pp.  43-83),  with  brief  introduction  and  notes  by 
G.  F.  Saintsbury  (Lon.  Percival  &  Co.  1892.  i6"^). 


PAPPE  WITH  AN  HATCHET 

Text.— My  collation  of  the  two  copies  in  the  Bodleian  and  the  two  in 
the  British  Museum  establishes  clearly  the  existence  of  three  editions,  both 
British  Museum  copies  (from  one  of  which  Petheram  printed)  being  of 
the  same.  But  in  all  copies  the  tract  has  but  nineteen  leaves,  whose 
collation  is  the  same,  the  number  of  words  on  a  page  never  differing, 
though  there  is  occasional  slight  variety  in  the  internal  arrangement  In 
all,  the  address  '  To  the  Father,'  &c.  occupies  the  second  and  third  leaves, 
that '  To  the  Indifferent  Reader '  (in  smaller  italics)  the  fourth,  while  the 
appended  portion  (from  '  Here  I  was  writing  Finis  and  Funis ')  com- 
mencing on  the  verso  of  the  sixteenth  leaf  extends  for  three  leaves  more. 
But  the  distinction  between  the  three  editions  is  established  by  the  variety 
in  the  position  of  the  signatures,  and  by  a  large  number  of  orthographical 
differences,  in  addition  to  the  points  enumerated  in  the  table  below.  It 
is  almost  impossible  to  fix  their  order  with  certainty ;  but  I  have  noticed 
a  large  number  of  cases  where  B  and  C  agree  in  spelling  or  pointing,  and 
differ  from  A  ;  ten  or  eleven  points  which  are  evidently  corrections  of  B 
by  C  ;  and  one  (p.  398  1.  28)  in  which  C  corrects  both  A  and  B.  As  to 
the  respective  order  of  these  latter,  the  character  of  the  three  cases  in 
which  B  (followed  by  C)  corrects  A— pp.  395  1.  5,  405  1.  2,  406  1.  4— 
may  be  taken  to  establish  B's  later  .date,  in  spite  of  the  ten  cases  (given 
below)  in  which,  on  that  supposition,  it  corrupts  A  ;  for  five  of  these  are 
again  corrected  by  C,  while  the  other  five  perhaps  should  hardly  be 
considered  corruptions.  The  question  is  of  no  importance,  as  all  three 
editions  must  have  appeared  close  together.  The  text  I  have  followed 
is  that  of  C,  errors  being  corrected  from  A  or  B  and  every  variant  of  the 
least  importance  being  given  in  the  footnotes. 

ABC 

(Douce  copy)         (Brit.  Mus.  copies)     (Malone  copy) 
P-  395  !•  5      the    nephewe   his    his    nephewe    the    his    nephewe   the 


ape 

ape 

ape 

P.  398  1.  6 

brake  your  fast 

brake  you  fast 

brake  you  fast 

P.  398  1.  28 

MartHns  . .  ergo 

Mar  fins  . .  ergo 

Martins  .   .    ergo 
(for  Martin's) 

^'  399  1.  34 

all  is 

aUs 

alls 

P.  400  1.  4 

abusde,  for 

abusde .  for 

abusde:  for 

390 

P.  400 1. 4 
P.  400 1.  39 
P.  401 1.  II 


PAPPE   WITH   AN   HATCHET 


P.  402  1. 19 
P.  402  1.  33 
P.  404  1.  24 
P.  405  1.  2 

P.  405  1. 29 
P.  405  1.  35 

P405IL59-40 
P.  406  1.  4 
P.  407  1, 30 
P.  409  L  3 
P.  410 1.  5 
P.  412  1.  3 
P.  412  1.  33 
P.  413  1-  2 


vertuously 

Sainct  Martins 

(foL  B  4  recto,  line 
i)  They  venter 
(printed  level  with 
fc^owing  line) 

set  him  to  worke 

perceiue 

Martin 

I  (marie  quoth  the 
ludge) 

Wierdrawers 

this  gaming 
humour 

hath  sod 

smile 

not 

GOD  saue 

authoritie 

hath 

foole 

you  cannot 


vertuousty 
Sainct  Martins 
(printed   level,   as 
in  A) 


set  to  him  worke 
perceine 
Mantin 

I  marie  (quoth  the 
ludge) 
Wierdawers 
his  gaming  humour 

had  sod 

simile 

nor 

GOD  sane 

authorie 

had 

foole 

you  cannot 


vertuously 

Saincts  Martins 

(indented  the  width 
of  two  letters  to 
mark  new  para- 
graph) 

set  him  to  worke 

perceiue 

Martin 

I  marie  (quoth  the 
ludge) 

Wierdawers 

his  gaming  humour 

hath  sod 

simile 

not 

GOD  saue 

authorie 

had 

foale 

thou  cannot 


Authorship. — Lyl/s  authorship  cannot  seriously  be  disputed.  On 
p.40011.25  sqq.  we  have  a  passage  referring  to  Gabriel  Harvey ,which  called 
forth  from  the  latter  the  Advertisement  to  Papp-Haichetty  dated  Nov.  5, 
1589,  and  printed  as  the  second  book  oi  Pierces  Supererogation  in  1593. 
In  this  Advertisement^  and  again  in  the  Four  Letters  and  certaine  Son* 
nets  of  1592,  Harvey  expressly  identifies  Lyly  as  the  author* ;  and  though 

*  From  the  Advertisement,  printed  in  Biydges^  Archaica,  voL  ii : — 

'Pap-hatchet  (for  the  name  of  thy  good  nature  is  pitifully  grown  out  of 
requeft)  thv  old  acauaintance  in  the  Savoy,  when  young  Euphues  hatcht  the  eggs 
that  his  elder  frienas  laid  (Surely  Euphues  was  some  way  a  pretty  fellow :  would 
God  Lilly  had  alwaies  been  Euphues  and  never  Papp-hatchet),  that  old  acqaamt- 
ance  now  somewhat  strangely  saluted  with  a  new  remembrance,  is  neither  InUabied 
with  thy  sweet  Papp,  nor  scare-crow'd  with  thy  sour  Hatchett/    P.  81. 

— '  Euphues  it  is  good  to  be  merrv,  and  Lvly  it  is  good  to  be  wise,  and  Papp- 
hatchet  it  is  better  to  lose  a  new  jest  than  an  old  friend.     P.  81. 

— '  Albeit  every  man  cannot  compete  such  grand  volumes  as  Euphues,  or  reare 
such  mighty  tomes  as  Pap-hatchet ;  yet  he  might  have  thought  other  poore  men 
have  tongues  and  pennes  to  speak  something,  when  they  are  provoked  unreason- 
ably. But  loosers  may  have  their  wordes  and  comedians  their  actes :  such  drie 
bobbers  can  lustily  strike  at  other,  and  cunningly  rapp  themselves.  He  hath  not 
played  the  Vicematter  of  Ponies,  and  the  Foolemaster  of  the  Theater  for  naaghtes : 
himtelfe  a  mad  lad,  as  ever  twangd,  never  troubled  with  any  substance  of  witt,  or 
circumstance  of  honestie,  sometime  the  fiddlestidce  of  Oxford,  now  the  veiy  bable 
of  London.*    P.  137. 

— *  had  I  been  Martin  (as  for  a  time  I  was  vainly  suspected  by  such  mad 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  391 

this  identification  might  conceivably  be  mere  conjecture  on  Harvey'^ 
part,  yet  it  is  confirmed  by  our  knowledge  of  a  previous  quarrel  between 
the  two  men  of  a  date  roughly  corresponding  with  the  '  tenne  yeres ' 
grudge  to  which  Papfie  (p.  400 1.  34)  alludes.  Moreover  the  attribution 
was  never  denied,  either  by  Lyly  himself  or  by  Nash,  his  partner  in  the 
war  against  the  Martinists.  In  Strange  NeweSy  1593,  Nash  twice  alludes 
to  the  Harvey s*  attack  on  himself  and  Pap-hatchet ;  in  Pierce  Pennilesse^ 
1592,  he  anticipates  that  'he  also  whom  thou  tearmest  the  vayn  Pap- 
hatchet  will  haue  a  fiurt  at  thee  one  day ' ;  and  in  Haue  with  you  to 
Saffron  IVaidron,  1 596,  he  writes  '  For  Master  Lillie  (who  is  halues  with 
me  in  this  indignitie  that  is  ofTred)  [i.e.  in  Pierces  Supererogation]^ 
I  will  not  take  the  tale  out  of  his  mouth ;  for  he  is  better  able  to  defend 
himselfe  than  I  am  able  to  say  he  is  able  to  defend  himselfe,  and  in  so 
much  time  as  hee  spendes  in  taking  Tobacco  one  weeke,  he  can  compile 
that  which  would  make  Gabriell  repent  himselfe  all  his  life  after.  With 
a  blacke  sant  he  meanes  shortly  to  bee  at  his  chamber  window,  for  calling 
him  the  Fiddlesticke  of  Oxford.'  It  is  impossible  to  read  these  passages,  and 
those  from  the  Advertisement  quoted  below,  and  not  feel  that  the  Bishops' 
engagement  of  Lyly  and  Nash  was  an  open  secret ;  and  there  is  nothing 
surviving  (beyond  the  doubtful  Whip  for  an  Ape  and  Mar-Martine)  that 
can  be  attributed  to  Lyly  except  Pappe^  which,  further,  affords  internal 
evidence  of  his  authorship,  both  in  matter  consonant  with  our  knowledge 
of  Lyly,  and  in  echoes  of  Euphues.  Under  the  first  head  might  be  men- 
tioned his  allusions  to  Cambridge,  pp.  398-9,  and  to  Nash  (his  junior) 
as  a  'little  wag,'  a  'boy,'  p.  398,  to  the  gambling  in  'an  Hospitall'  (a 
reminiscence  of  the  Savoy)  p.  399  I.  14,  to  the  violin,  p.  413  1.  31  ;  his 
knowledge  of  the  Court,  p.  397  1.  7,  and  of  theatrical  affairs,  p.  408 ;  and 
his  sense  of  the  contrast  of  style  between  Pappe  and  Euphues — '  I  was 
loath  so  to  write  as  I  haue  done,  but . . .  who  would  currie  an  Asse  with 
an  luorie  combe?'  p.  394  11.  27-30.  Under  the  second  head  we  get,  for 
all  he  can  do,  a  vast  amount  of  punning  and  alliteration,  and  occasional 
antithetic  passages :  '  Faith,'  he  says,  p.  401  1.  14  after  such  a  lapse  into 
euphuism, '  thou  wilt  bee  caught  by  the  stile ' ;  and  indeed  one  cannot 

copesmates  that  can  surmise  anything  for  their  purpose,  howsoever  unlikely  or 
monstrous)  I  would  have  been  so  far  from  being  moved  by  such  a  fantastical 
confuter,  that  it  should  have  been  one  of  my  May-games  or  August  triumphs  to 
have  driven  officials  .  .  .  bishops  and  archbishops  ...  to  entertain  such  an  odd 
light-headed  fellow  for  their  defence ;  a  professed  jester,  a  hick-scomer,  a  scoff- 
master,  a  play-monger,  an  interluder ;  once  the  fool  of  Oxford,  now  the  stale  of 
London,  and  ever  the  apes-clog  of  the  press,  Cum  privilegio  perennitatis.'  P.  86. 
From  the  Four  Letters  and  certaine  Sonnets  (Brydges*  ArcAaica,  it  p.  1 7)  : — 
— '  And  that  was  all  the  fleeting  that  ever  I  felt,  saving  that  another  company 
of  special  good  fellows  (whereof  he  was  none  of  the  meanest  that  brauely  threat- 
ened to  conjure  up  one  which  should  massacre  Martin's  wit  or  should  be  lambacked 
himself  with  ten  years  provision)  would  needs  forsooth  very  courtly  persuade  the 
Earle  of  Oxforde  that  something  in  those  letters,  and  namely  the  Mirrour  of 
Tuscanismo,  was  palpably  intended  against  him,*  &c. 


392  PAPPE  WITH   AN  HATCHET 

beliere  that  he  was  particularly  anxious  to  avoid  detection,  havii^  no  sndi 
motive  for  concealment  as  had  the  Martinists.  The  idea  (p.  395  L  3)  of 
riding  the  kiddsh  wit  of  an  opponent  occurs  again  at  the  end  of  Act  iv. 
So.  3  of  Mother  BomMe.  The  following  particular  echoes  of  Eupkuts  are 
also  dearly  traceable  (see  notes) :  '  addle  egges . . .  idle  heads,'  p.  396 1. 50; 
the  making  of  Sdron  and  Procrustes  partners,  ib.  L  31 ;  'mould  . . . 
™<>^>'  P-  397  ^  3  9  '  ^ch  a  warming  as  shall  make  all  his  deuices  like 
^"^ood,*  p.  399 IL  25-6 ;  '  abiects  . . .  subiects,'  p.  41 1  1.  41 ;  '  teare  boughs 
. . .  hew  tree,' '  wet  feete  • . .  care  not  how  deepe  they  wade,*  p.  412  11. 1-2 ; 
a  couple  of  natural  history  allusions,  pp.  396  1.  16  (camel),  399  L  39 
(Estritch) ;  and  the  passage  '  Her  sacred  Maiestie,'  &c,  p.  409  11.  5  sqq., 
which  a  little  recalls  Euphues' '  Glasse  for  Europe.' 

For  the  occasion  of  the  pamphlet  and  the  Marprelate  Controversy  in 
general  see  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  49-60. 

Date. — The  composition  of  all  except  the  closing  pages  preceded  the  ap- 
pearance of  Martin's  Protestatyon^  after  which,  at  p.  410 1. 19,  the  pamphlet 
was  resumed.  An  approximate  date  for  that  appearance  is  to  be  inferred 
from  The  Retume  of  Pcuquill  (d  iii.  verso),  where  just  after  *  Pasquil's  Pro- 
testaticMi,'  which  is  dated  '  20  Octobris  Anno  Millimo  Quillimo  Trillimo,' 
Nash  says,  '  Yester  night  late  olde  Martins  Protestation  in  Octauo  was 
brought  vnto  mee.'  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  that  '  20  Octobris '  repre- 
sents the  real  date  of  Nash's  writing,  and  therefore  that  the  Protestatyon 
had  appeared  from  the  beginning  to  the  middle  of  the  same  month.  That 
being  so,  Pappe^  which  contains  an  appendix  answering  it,  can  hardly 
have  appeared  before  the  second  or  third  week  of  October ;  while  a  down- 
ward limit  is  found  in  the  date  affixed  to  Harvey's  reply,  the  Advertise^ 
ment  to  Papp-Hatchett—^  At  Trinitie  hall :  this  fift  of  Nouember :  1589.' 

Contents.— It  is  unnecessary  to  summarize  its  contents.  It  makes  little 
attempt  at  serious  argument,  and  indeed  seems  to  disclaim  any  such  (p.  410 
11. 4  sqq.).  It  is  a  mere  farrago  of  abuse  and  scandal  gleaned  from  Nash, 
which  Gabriel  Harvey  (Brydges'^nr^/V^i,  ii.p.  83)  adequately  described  as 
'  alehouse  and  tinkerly  stuff,'  saying  that  a  pamphlet '  so  oddly  huddled 
and  bungled  together,  in  so  madbrain  a  sort  and  with  so  brainsick  stufi^' 
was  '  nothing  worthy  a  scholar  or  a  civil  gentleman,'  and  '  one  of  the  most 
paltry  things  that  ever  was  published  by  graduate  of  either  university ' 
(Brydges'  Archaica^  i.  p.  141).  Its  apparent  high  spirits  do  not  prevent 
an  occasional  indication  that  Lyly  finds  his  task  a  bore,  e.  g.  pp.  399  L  34, 
403  11. 6, 18, 404  11. 29,  36, 406  IL  6-8, 413  1. 4.  Mingled,  however,  with  the 
ribaldry  are  one  or  two  pertinent  and  well-told  stories,  e.  g.  pp.  402  IL  12- 
26,  409  11.  16-35  »  much  that  at  first  appears  sheer  nonsense  is  found  on 
examination  to  possess  some  point  ;  and  the  brochure^  whatever  its 
defects,  reached  a  third  edition. 


Pappe  with  an  hatchet. 

Alias, 

A  figgefor  my  Godfonne. 

Or 

Cracky  me  tlois  nut. 

Or 

A  Countrie  cuffe^  that  is^  a  found  boxe  of  the 

eare,  for  the  idiot  Martin  to  hold  his  peace, 

feeing  the  patch  will  take  no 

warning. 


Written  by  one  that  dares  call  a  dog^  a  dog^ 
and  made  to  preuent  Martins  dog  daies. 


I mprinted  by  lohnr^noke^  and  lohn  AJiile^  for  the 
Bay  line  ofWithernam,  cum priuilegio per enni ta- 
lis^ and  are  to  bee  fold  at  the  figne  of  the 
crab  tree  cudgell  in  thwack- 
coate  lane. 


odf  fentence. 
Martin  hangs  fit  for  my  mowing. 


To  the  Father  and  the  two  Sonnes, 
Huffe,  Ruffe,  and  Snuffe, 

the  three  tame  ruffians  of  the  Church,  which  take  pepper 

in  the  nose,  because  they  can 

not  marre  Prelates^,)  5 

grating. 

ROOME  for  a  royster ;  so  thats  well  sayd,  itch  a  little  further  for  a  good 
fellowe.  Now  haue  at  you  all  my  gaffers  of  the  rayling  religion,  tis  I  that 
must  take  you  a  peg  lower.  I  am  sure  you  looke  for  more  worke,  you 
shall  haue  wood  enough  to  cleaue,  make  your  tongue  the  wedge,  and  your  10 
head  the  beede.  He  make  such  a  splinter  runne  into  your  wits,  as  shal 
make  the  ranckle  till  you  become  fooles.  Nay,  if  you  shoot  bookes  like 
fooles  bolts.  He  be  so  bold  as  to  make  your  iudgements  quiuer  with  my 
thunderbolts.  If  you  meane  to  gather  clowdes  in  the  Commonwealth,  to 
threaten  tempests,  for  your  flakes  of  snowe  weele  pay  you  with  stones  of  15 
hayle ;  if  with  an  Easterlie  winde  you  bring  Catterpillers  into  the  Church, 
with  a  Northeme  wind  weele  driue  barrennes  into  your  wits. 

We  care  not  for  a  Scottish  mist,  though  it  wet  vs  to  the  skin,  you  shal 
be  sure  your  cockscombs  shall  not  be  mist,  but  pearst  to  the  skuls.    I  pro- 
fesse  rayling,  and  think  it  as  good  a  cudgell  for  a  Martin,  as  a  stone  for  20 
a  dogge,  or  a  whippe  for  an  Ape,  or  poyson  for  a  rat. 

Yet  find  fault  with  no  broad  termes,  for  I  haue  mesured  yours  with 
mine,  &  I  find  yours  broader  iust  by  the  list.  Say  not  my  speaches  are 
light,  for  I  haue  weighed  yours  and  mine,  and  I  finde  yours  lighter  by 
twentie  graines  than  the  allowance.  For  number  you  exceede,  for  you  25 
haue  thirtie  ribauld  words  for  my  one,  and  yet  you  beare  a  good  spirit. 
I  was  loath  so  to  write  as  I  haue  done,  but  that  I  leamde,  that  he  that 
drinkes  with  cutters,  must  not  be  without  his  ale  dagger ;  nor  hee  that 
buckles  with  Martin^  without  his  lauish  termes. 

Who  would  currie  an  Asse  with  an  luorie  combe  ?  giue  the  beast  30 
thistles  for  prouender.  I  doo  but  yet  angle  with  a  silken  flye,  to  see 
whether  Martins  will  nibble ;  and  if  I  see  that,  why  then  I  haue  wormes 
for  the  nonce,  and  will  giue  them  line  enough  like  a  trowte,  till  they 
swallow  both  hooke  and  line,  and  then  Martin  beware  your  gilles,  for  He 
make  you  daunce  at  the  poles  end.  35 


PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET  395 

I  knowe  Martin  will  with  a  trice  bestride  my  shoulders.  Well,  if  he 
ride  me,  let  the  foole  sit  fast,  for  my  wit  is  verie  kickish ;  which  if  he 
spurre  with  his  copper  replie,  when  it  bleedes,  it  will  all  to  besmeare  their 
consciences. 
5  If  a  Martin  can  play  at  chestes,  as  well  as  his  nephewe  the  ape,  he 
shall  knowe  what  it  is  for  a  scaddle  pawne,  to  crosse  a  Bishop  in  his  owne 
walke.  Such  dydoppers  must  be  taken  vp,  els  theile  not  stick  to  check 
the  king.  Rip  vp  my  life,  discipher  my  name,  fill  thy  answer  as  full  of 
lies  as  of  lines,  swel  like  a  toade,  hisse  like  an  adder,  bite  like  a  dog,  & 

10  chatter  like  a  monkey,  my  pen  is  prepared  and  my  minde ;  and  if  yee 
chaimce  to  finde  any  worse  words  than  you  brought,  let  them  be  put  in 
your  dads  dictionarie.  And  so  farewell,  and  be  hangd,  and  I  pray  God 
ye  fare  no  worse. 

Yours  at  an  houres  warning 

,5  Double  V. 

5  the  nephewe  his  ape  A 


TO   THE 

INDIFFERENT    READER. 

It  is  high  time  to  search  in  what  comer  of  the  Church  the  fire  is 
kindled,  being  crept  so  far,  as  that  with  the  verie  smoke  the  consciences 
of  diuers  are  smothered.  It  is  found  that  certaine  Martins^  if  no  mis-  5 
creants  in  religion  (which  wee  may  suspect)  yet  without  doubt  male- 
cotents  (which  wee  ought  to  feare)  haue  throwen  fire,  not  into  the  Church 
porch,  but  into  the  Chauncell,  and  though  not  able  by  learning  and 
iudgement  to  displace  a  Sexton,  yet  seeke  to  remooue  Bishops.  They 
haue  scattered  diuers  libels,  all  so  taunting  and  slanderous,  as  it  is  hard  lo 
to  iudge,  whether  their  lyes  exceed  their  bittemesse,  or  their  bittemesse 
their  fables. 

If  they  be  answered  by  the  grauitie  of  learned  Prelates,  they  presentlie 
reply  with  railings  ;  which  argueth  their  intent  to  be  as  farre  frd  the  truth 
of  deuotion,  as  their  writings  from  mildnes  of  spirit.  It  is  said  that  15 
camels  neuer  drinke,  til  they  haue  troubled  the  water  with  their  feete,  & 
it  seemes  these  Martins  cannot  carouse  the  sapp  of  the  Church,  till  by 
faction  they  make  tumults  in  religion.  Seeing  the  either  they  expect  no 
graue  replie,  or  that  they  are  settled  with  railing  to  replie ;  I  thought  it 
more  conuenient,  to  giue  them  a  whisk  with  their  owne  wand,  than  to  ao 
haue  them  spurd  with  deeper  learning. 

The  Scithian  slaues,  though  they  bee  vp  in  armes,  must  bee  tamde  with 
whippes,  not  swords,  and  these  mutiners  in  Church  matters,  must  haue 
their  mouthes  bungd  with  iests,  not  arguments. 

I  seldome  vse  to  write,  and  yet  neuer  writ  anie  thing,  that  in  speech  25 
might  seeme  vndecent,  or  in  sense  vnhonest ;  if  here  I  haue  vsed  bad 
tearmes,  it  is  because  they  are  not  to  bee  answered  with  good  tearmes : 
for  whatsoeuer  shall  seeme  lauish  in  this  Pamphlet,  let  it  be  thought 
borrowed  of  Martins  language.    These  Martins  were  hatcht  of  addle 
egges,  els  could  they  not    haue  such  idle  heads.    They  measure  con-  30 
science  by  their  owne  yard,  and  like  the  theeues,  that  had  an  yron  bed, 
in  which  all  that  were  too  long  they  would  cut  euen,  all  that  were  too 
short  they  would  stretch  out,  and  none  escapte  vnrackt  or  vnsawed,  that 
were  not  iust  of  their  beds  length  :  so  all  that  are  not  Martins^  that  is,  of 
their  peeuish  mind,  must  be  measured  by  them.     If  he  come  short  of  35 
their  religion,  why  he  is  but  a  colde  Protestant,  hee  must  bee  pluckt  out  to 


PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET  397 

the  length  of  a  Puritane.  If  any  be  more  deuout  than  they  are,  as  to  giue 
almesy  fast,  and  pray,  then  they  cut  him  off  close  by  the  workes,  and  say 
he  is  a  Papist.  If  one  be  not  cast  in  Martins  mould,  his  religion  must 
needes  mould.  He  saith  he  is  a  Courtier,  I  thinke  no  Courtier  so  per- 
5  uerse,  that  seeing  the  streight  rule  of  the  Church,  would  goe  about  to 
bend  it  It  may  be  he  is  some  lester  about  the  Court,  and  of  that  I  mer- 
uaile,  because  I  know  all  the  fooles  there,  and  yet  cannot  gesse  at  him. 
What  euer  he  be,  if  his  conscience  be  pind  to  his  cognizance,  I  will 
account  him  more  politicke  than  religious,  and  more  dangerous  for  ciuill 

10  broyles,  than  the  Spaniard  for  an  open  warre.  I  am  ignorant  oi  Martin 
and  his  maintainer,  but  my  conscience  is  my  warrant,  to  care  for  neither. 
For  I  knowe  there  is  none  of  honour  so  carelesse,  nor  any  in  zeale  so 
peeuish,  nor  of  nature  any  so  barbarous,  that  wil  succor  those  that  be 
suckers  of  the  Church,  a  thing  against  God  and  i>olicie ;  against  God,  in 

15  subuerting  religion ;  against  policie,  in  altering  gouemment,  making  in 
the  Church,  the  feast  of  the  Lapithees^  where  all  shall  bee  throwne  on 
anothers  head,  because  euerie  one  would  be  the  head.  And  these  it  is 
high  time  to  tread  vnder  foote :  for  who  would  not  make  a  threshold  of 
those,  that  go  about  to  make  the  Church  a  bame  to  thresh  in.    Itaque  sic 

ao  disputo. 


FINIS. 


PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET. 

Good  morrow,  g^oodman  Martin^  good  morrow :  will  ye  anie  mosique 
this  morning  ?  What  fast  a  sleepe  ?  Nay  faith,  lie  cramp  thee  till  I  wake 
thee.  O  whose  tat  f  Nay  gesse  olde  knaue  and  odd  knaue :  for  He  neoer 
leaue  pulling,  til  I  haue  thee  out  of  thy  bed  into  the  streete  ;  and  then  all 
shall  see  who  thou  art,  and  thou  know  what  I  am.  5 

Your  Knaueship  brake  your  fast  on  the  Bishops,  by  breaking  your 
iests  on  them :  but  take  heed  you  breake  not  your  owne  necke.  Bastard 
Junior  dinde  vpon  them,  and  cramde  his  maw  as  full  of  mallice,  as  hb 
head  was  of  malapertnesse.  Bastard  Senior  was  with  them  at  supper,  and 
I  thinke  tooke  a  surfet  of  colde  and  raw  quipps.  O  what  queasie  girds  10 
were  they  towards  the  fall  of  the  leafe.  Old  Martin^  neuer  entaile  thy  wit 
to  the  eldest,  for  hee*le  spend  all  he  hath  in  a  quire  of  paper. 

Now  sirs,  knowing  your  bellies  full  of  Bishops  bobbs,  I  am  sure  your 
bones  would  be  at  rest :  but  wee'le  set  vp  all  our  rests,  to  make  you  all 
restie.    I  was  once  determined  to  write  a  proper  newe  Ballet,  entituled  15 
Martin  and  his  Maukiny  to  no  tune,  because  Martin  was  out  of  all  tune. 
^^'  Eiderton  swore  hee  had  rimes  lying  a  steepe  in  ale,  which  shoulde  marre 

his  tnazJr    ^  ^^^^  reasons :  there  is  an  olde  hacker  that  shall  take  order  for  to  print 
that  he  will  them.    O  how  heele  cut  it,  when  his  ballets  come  out  of  the  lungs  of  the 
make  their  licour.    They  shall  bee  better  than  those  of  Bonner^  or  the  ierkes  for  m 
shod  if  the  ^  ^^^it.    The  first  begins,  Come  tit  me  come  tat  me,  come  throw  a  halter 
ale  haue       at  me. 

his  swift         Then  I  thought  to  touch  Martin  with  Logick,  but  there  was  a  little 
wag  in  Cambridge^  that  swore  by  Saint  Seaton^  he  would  so  swinge  him 
with  Sillogismes,  that  all  Martins  answeres  should  ake.    The  vile  boy  '5 
hath  manie  bobbes,  and  a  whole  fardle  of  fallacies.     He  begins, 
Unquo  coax  ranis,  cros  coruis,  vanaque  vanis. 
Ad  Logicam  fiergo,  qua  Martinis  non  timet  ergo. 
And  sales,  he  will  ergo  Martin  into  an  ague.    1  haue  read  but  one  of  his 

arguments.  V^ 

Tibume  stands  in  the  cold, 

But  Martins  are  a  warme  furrei 

Therefore  Tibume  must  be  furd  with 

Martins. 

O  (quoth  I)  boy  thou  wilt  be  shamed  ;  tis  neither  in  moode  nor  figure :  35 

6  70a  BC     2*1  cros]  qy,  t  cnxfor  corax  {ic6pa^)    a8  Mart'ins  AB :  Martins  C 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  399 

all  the  better,  for  I  am  in  a  moode  to  cast  a  figure,  that  shall  bring  them 
to  the  conclusion.  I  laught  at  the  boye,  and  left  him  drawing  all  the 
lines  of  Martin  into  sillogismes,  euerie  conclusion  beeing  this,  Ergo 
Martin  is  to  bee  hangd. 
5  Nay,  if  rime  and  reason  bee  both  forestalde,  He  rayle,  if  Martin  haue 
not  barrelde  vp  all  rakehell  words :  if  he  haue,  what  care  I  to  knocke  him 
on  the  head  with  his  owne  hatchet.  He  hath  taken  vp  all  the  words  for 
his  obscenitie :  obscenitie  ?  Naie,  now  I  am  too  nice,  squinilitie  were 
a  better  word :  well,  let  me  alone  to  squirrell  them. 

10  Martin^  thinkst  thou  thou  hast  so  good  a  wit,  as  none  can  outwrangle 
thee  ?  Yes  Martin^  wee  will  play  three  a  vies  wits :  art  thou  so  backt 
that  none  dare  blade  it  with  thee  ?  Yes  Martin^  we  will  drop  vie  stabbes. 
Martin  sweares  I  am  some  gamester.  Why,  is  not  gaming  lawfid? 
I  know  where  there  is  more  play  in  the  compasse  of  an  Hospitall,  than 

15  in  the  circuite  of  Westchester.  One  hath  been  an  old  stabber  at  passage : 
the  One  that  I  meane,  thrust  a  knife  into  ones  thigh  at  Cambridge^  the 
quarrel  was  about  cater-tray,  and  euer  since  hee  hath  quarrelled  about 
eater-caps. 

I  thought  that  hee  which  thrust  at  the  bodie  in  game,  would  one  day 

30  cast  a  foyne  at  the  soule  in  earnest.  But  hee  workes  doselie  and  sees 
all,  hee  leamd  that  of  old  Vidgin  the  cobler,  who  wrought  ten  yeares 
with  spectacles,  and  yet  swore  he  could  see  through  a  dicker  of  leather. 
He  hath  a  wanton  spleene,  but  wee  will  haue  it  stroakt  with  a  spume, 
because  his  eyes  are  bleard,  hee  thinkes  to  bleare  all  ours ;  but  let  him 

35  take  this  for  a  warning,  or  else  looke  for  such  a  warming,  as  shall  make 
all  his  deuices  as  like  wood,  as  his  spittle  is  like  woodsere.  Take  away 
the  Sacke,  and  giue  him  some  Cinamom  water,  his  conscience  hath 
a  colde  stomacke.  Cold?  Thou  art  deceiued,  twil  digest  a  Cathedral 
Church  as  easilie,  as  an  Estritch  a  two  penie  naile. 

30  But  softe  Martins^  did  your  Father  die  at  the  Groyne  ?  It  was  well 
groapt  at,  for  I  knewe  him  sicke  of  a  paine  in  the  groyne.  A  pockes  of 
that  religion,  (quoth  Julian  Grimes  to  her  Father)  when  al  his  haires  fell 
off  on  the  sodaine.  Well  let  the  olde  knaue  be  dead.  Whie  are  not  the 
spawnes  of  such  a  dog-fish  hangd  ?    Hang  a  spawne  ?  drowne  it ;  alls 

35  one,  damne  it. 

Ye  like  not  a  Bishops  rochet,  when  all  your  fathers  hankerchers  were 
made  of  his  sweete  harts  smocke.  That  made  you  bastards,  and  your 
dad  a  cuckold,  whose  head  is  swolne  so  big,  that  he  had  neede  sende  to 
the  cooper  to  make  him  a  biggin :  and  now  you  talke  of  a  cooper.  He  tell 

40  you  a  tale  of  a  tubb. 

At  Sudburie^  where  the  Martin-mogers  swarmd  to  a  lecture,  like  beares 
to  a  honnie  pot :  a  good  honest  strippling,  of  the  age  of  fiftie  yeares  or 

34  all  if  ^ 


400  PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET 

thereabout,  that  could  baue  done  a  worse  act  if  companie  had  not  beeo 

neere,  askt  his  sweete  sister,  whether  lecherie  in  her  conscience  were 

a  sinne?    In  faith  (quoth  she)  I  thinke  it  the  superficies  of  sinne,  and  no 

harme  if  the  tearmes  be  not  abusde :  for  you  must  say,  vertuously  done, 

not  lustily  done.    Fie,  this  is  filthie  ribaldry.    O  sir,  ther  is  no  miithS 

without  ribaldrie,  nor  ribaldrie  without  Martin,  ask  mine  hostesse  of  the 

iuie  bush  in  Wye  for  the  one,  &  my  old  hostesse  of  the  Swanne  m 

Wanvicke  for  the  other.    She  is  dead :  the  diuell  shee  is.     You  are  too 

broad  with  Martins  brood :  for  hee  hath  a  hundred  thousand  that  will 

set  their  handes  to  his  Articles,  and  shewe  the  Queene.    Sweeter  and  le 

luy  are      sweeter:   for  wee  haue  twentie  hundred  thousand  handes  to  withstand 

^  ^^  J,    them.    1  would  it  were  come  to  the  grasp,  we  would  show  them  an  Irish 

re  ail         tricke,  that  when  they  thinke  to  winne  the  game  with  one  roan,  wee'le 

tntimani,  make  them  holde  out  till  wee  haue  but  two  left  to  carrie  them  to  the 

J^  gallowes :   wel  followed  in  faith,  for  thou  saidst  thou  wcrt  a  gamester.  15 

*ece :  so       All  this  is  but  bad  English,  when  wilt  thou  come  to  a  stile  ?     Mea^in 

to/  in  all    hath  manie  good  words.    Manie  ?    Now  you  put  me  in  minde  of  the 

^^^        matter,  there  is  a  booke  c5ming  out  of  a  hundred  merrie  tales,  and  the 
ti  one  " 

\(msand.      petigree  of  Martin,  fetchte  from  the  burning  of  Sodome,  his  armes  shalbe 

set  on  his  hearse,  for  we  are  prouiding  his  funerall,  and  for  the  winter  so 
nights  the  tales  shall  be  told  secundum  vsum  Sarum:  the  Deane  of 
Salisburie  can  tell  twentie.    If  this  will  not  make  Martin  mad,  malicious 
and  melancholie  (6  braue  letter  followed  with  a  full  crie)  then  will  we  be 
desperate,  &  hire  one  that  shall  so  translate  you  out  of  French  into 
English,  that  you  will  blush  and  lie  by  it.    And  one  will  we  coniure  vp,  15 
that  writing  a  familiar  Epistle  about  the  naturall  causes  of  an  Earthquake, 
fell  into  the  bowells  of  libelling,  which  made  his  eares  quake  for  feare  of 
clipping,  he  shall  tickle  you  with  taunts ;  all  his  works  bound  close,  are 
at  least  sixe  sheetes  in  quarto,  &  he  calls  them  the  first  tome  of  his 
familiar  Epistle :  he  is  full  of  latin  endes,  and  worth  tenne  of  those  that  30 
crie  in  London,  haie  ye  anie  gold  ends  to  sell.    If  he  giue  you  a  bob, 
though  he  drawe  no  bloud,  yet  are  you  sure  of  a  rap  with  a  bable.     If 
he  ioyne  with  vs,  periisti  Martin,  thy  wit  will  be  massacred  :  if  the  toy 
take  him  to  close  with  thee,  then  haue  I  my  wish,  for  this  tenne  yeres 
haue  I  lookt  to  lambacke  him.     Nay  he  is  a  mad  lad,  and  such  a  one  as  35 
cares  as  little  for  writing  without  wit,  as  Martin  doth  for  writing  without 
honestie;   a  notable  coach  companion  for  Martin,  to  drawe  Diuinitie 
from  the  CoUedges  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  to  Shoomakers  hall  in 
Sainct  Martins,  But  we  neither  feare  Martin,  nor  the  foot  cloth,  nor  the 
•  beast  that  weares  it,  be  he  horse  or  asse ;  nor  whose  sonne  he  is,  be  he  40 
Martins^  sonne,  Johns,  sonne,  or  Richards,  sonne ;   nor  of  what  occupa- 
tion hee  be,  be  a  sbip-wright,  cart-wright,  or  tibum-wright     If  they 

59  Sainct  AB :  Saincts  C 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  401 

bring  seauen  hundred  men,  they  shall  be  boxt 'with.fourteene  hundred 
boyes.  Nay  we  are  growing  to  a  secret  bargaine.  O,  but  I  forgate 
a  riddle  ;  the  more  it  is  sfded^  the  lesse  it  is  seene.  Thats  the  Sunne : 
the  lesse  it  is  spied  of  vs,  the  more  it  is  seene  of  those  vnder  vs.  The 
5  Sunne  ?  Thou  art  an  asse,  it  is  the  Father,  for  the  old  knaue,  thinking 
by  his  bastardie  to  couer  his  owne  heade,  putteth  it  like  a  stagge  ouer 
the  pale.  Pale  ?  nay  I  will  make  him  blush  as  red  as  ones  nose,  that  was 
alwaies  washt  in  well  water. 
What  newes  from  the  Heraldes  ?    Tush,  thats  time  enough  to  know  to 

10  morrow,  for  the  sermon  is  not  yet  cast.  The  sermon  foole?  why  they 
neuer  studie,  but  cleaue  to  Christ  his  dabitur  in  ilia  hora.  They  venter 
to  catch  soules,  as  they  were  soles ;  Doctors  are  but  dunces,  none  sowes 
true  stitches  in  a  pulpet,  but  a  shoomaker. 

Faith,  thou  wilt  bee  caught  by  the  stile.    What  care  I  to  be  found  by  Martin  lu- 

15  a  stile,  when  so  many  Martins  haue  been  taken  vnder  an  hedge  ?    If  they  »«"'  sates ^ 
cannot  leuell,  they  will  roue  at  thee,  and  anatomize  thy  life  from  the  j^snuthers 
cradle  to  the  graue,  and  thy  bodie  from  the  come  on  thy  toe,  to  the  papers  vn- 
crochet  on  thy  head.    They  bee  as  cunning  in  cutting  vp  an  honest  mans  ^  ^  hush^ 
credit,  as  Bull  in  quartering  a  knaues  bodie.    Tush,  (what  care  1)  is  my  ^^^^  started 

to  posie  ;  if  hee  meddle  with  mee.  He  make  his  braines  so  hot,  that  they  /rd  his 
shall  crumble  and  rattle  in  his  warpt  scull,  like  pepper  in  a  dride  bladder,   ^^ourme. 

1  haue  a  catalogue  of  al  the  sheepe,  and  it  shal  goe  hard,  but  I  wil 
crosse  the  bel-weather.  Why  shuld  I  feare  him  that  walkes  on  his  neats- 
feete.    Neither  court,  nor  countrie  that  shalbe  free,  I  am  like  death.  He 

35  spare  none.  There  shall  not  misse  a  name  of  any,  that  had  a  Godfather; 
if  anie  bee  vnchristened,  lie  nicke  him  with  a  name. 

But  whist ;  beware  an  action  of  the  case.  Then  put  this  for  the  case, 
whether  it  bee  not  as  lawful  to  set  downe  the  facts  of  knaues,  as  for 
a  knaue  to  slander  honest  men.    Alls  as  it  is  taken ;  marie  the  diuell  take 

30  al,  if  truth  find  not  as  many  soft  cushions  to  leane  on,  as  trecherie. 

Theres  one  with  a  lame  wit,  which  will  not  weare  a  foure  comerd  cap, 
then  let  him  put  on  Tibume,  that  hath  but  three  comers;  &  yet  the 
knaue  himselfe  hath  a  pretie  wench  in  euerie  comer. 

I  could  tickle  Martin  with  a  true  tale  of  one  of  his  sonnes,  that  hauing  He  calls 

35  the  companie  of  one  of  his  sisters  in  the  open  fieldes,  saide,  hee  woulde  nonebutthe 
not  smoother  vp  sinne,  and  deale  in  hugger  mugger  against  his  Con-   ^^^^^se 
science.     In  the  hundred  merrie  tales,  the  places,  the  times,  the  witnesses 
and  all,  shall  be  put  downe  to  the  proofe,  where  I  warrant  you,  the 
Martinists  haue  consciences  of  proofe.     Doost  think  Martin^  thou  canst 

40  not  be  discouered  ?  What  foole  would  not  thinke  him  discouered  that  is 
balde  ?  Put  on  your  night  cap,  and  your  holie  day  English,  and  the  best 
wit  you  haue  for  high  daies,  all  wil  be  little  enough  to  keep  you  from 

39  Doest  A 
BONO  III  D  d 


402  PAPPE  WITH   AN  HATCHET 

a  knaues  penance,  though  as  yet  you  be  in  a  fooles  paradice.  If  yoa 
coyne  words,  as  Cankerburie^  CanterbitrineSy  &c.  whie,  I  know  a  foole 
that  shall  so  inkhomize  you  with  straunge  phrases,  that  you  shall  blush 
at  your  owne  bodges.  For  Similes,  theres  another  shal  liken  thee  to 
anie  thing,  besides  he  can  raile  too.  If  Martin  muzzle  not  his  mouth,  < 
and  manacle  his  hands,  He  blabb  all,  and  not  sticke  to  tell,  that  pewes 
and  stewes  are  rime  in  their  religion. 

Scratch  not  thy  head  Martin^  for  be  thou  Martin  the  bird,  or  Martin 
the  beast ;  a  bird  with  the  longest  bill,  or  a  beast  with  the  long^est  eares, 
theres  a  net  spread  for  your  necke.    Martin^  He  tell  thee  a  tale  wooith  n 
twelue  pence,  if  thy  witt  bee  woorth  a  pennie. 

There  came  to  a  Duke  in  Italie^  a  large  lubber  and  a  beggerlie,  saying 
hee  had  the  Philosophers  Stone,  and  that  hee  could  make  golde  faster, 
than  the  Duke  could  spend  it ;  The  Duke  askt  him,  why  hee  made  ncme 
to  mainteine  himself?    Because,  quoth  he,  I  could  neuer  get  a  secret  i5 
place  to  worke  in ;  for  once  I  indeuoured,  and  the  Popes  holinesse  sent 
for  me,  whom  if  he  had  caught,  I  should  haue  been  a  prentice  to  main* 
teine  his  pride.  The  Duke  minding  to  make  triall  of  his  cunning,  &  eager 
of  golde,  set  him  to  worke  closely  in  a  vault,  where  it  was  not  knowen 
to  his  neerest  seruaunts.    This  Alcumist,  in  short  time  consumed  two  so 
thousande  pound  of  the  Dukes  gold,  and  brought  him  halfe  a  Ducket : 
whie  (quoth  the  Duke)  is  this  all  ?    All  quoth  he  my  Lord,  that  I  could 
make  by  Art.    Wei  said  the  Duke,  then  shalt  thou  see  my  cunning :  for 
I  will  boyle  thee,  straine  thee,  and  then  drie  thee,  so  that  of  a  lubber,  that 
weighed  three  hundred  weight,  I  will  at  last  make  a  dram  of  knaues  '5 
powder.    The  Duke  did  it. 

Martin^  if  thou  to  couscn  haue  crept  into  the  bosome  of  some  great 
mc,  saying  thou  hast  the  churches  discipline,  &  that  thou  canst  by  thy 
faction  &  pollicie,  pull  down  Bishops  and  set  vp  Elders,  bring  the  lands 
of  the  Clergy,  into  the  cofers  of  the  Temporaltie,  and  repaire  Religion,  30 
by  impayring  their  liuings,  it  may  bee,  thou  shalt  bee  hearkened  too, 
stroakt  on  the  head,  greasd  in  the  hand,  fed  daintelie,  kept  secretlie,  and 
countenaunst  mightelie.     But  when  they  perceiue,  that  all  thy  deuices 
bee  but  Chymeraes^  monsters  of  thine  owne  imaginations,  so  farre  from 
Martin^    pulling  downe  a  Cathedrall  Church,  that  they  cannot  remooue  a  comer  55 
teiner  are     ®^  ^  square  cap,  the  will  they  deale  with  thee,  as  the  Duke  did  with  the 
both  sowers  Alcumist,  giue  thee  as  many  bobs  on  the  eare,  as  thou  hast  eaten  morsek 
^fj^^^\     of  their  meate,  and  make  thee  an  example  of  sedition  to  be  pointed  at, 
stands  in      ^^^  ^^  "°^  ^  mewde  vp,  that  none  can  point  where  thou  art     All  this 
the  pit,  all    tale,  with  the  application,  was  not  of  my  penning,  but  found  among  loose  40 
the  ^^^        papers ;  marie  he  that  did  it,  dares  stand  to  it.    Now,  because  I  haue 
in  hueies     nothing  to  doo  betweene  this  and  supper,  lie  tell  you  another  tale,  and 
but  he  shal   so  begin  Winter  by  time. 
^'^^^  19  to  him  B  33  perceine  B 

the  boards. 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  403 

There  was  a  libeller,  who  was  also  a  coniurer,  so  that  whatsoeuer 

casting  of  figures  there  was,  he  deceiued  them ;    at  the  last,  one  as 

cunning  as  himself,  shewed,  wher  he  sate  writing  in  a  fooles  coate,  & 

so  he  was  caught  and  whipt.    Martin,  there  are  figures  a  flinging,  &  ten 

5  to  one  thou  wilt  be  found  sitting  in  a  Knaues  skinne,  and  so  be  hangd. 

Hollow  there,  giue  me  the  beard  I  wore  yesterday.    O  beware  of  a  gray 

beard,  and  a  balde  head :  for  if  such  a  one  doo  but  nod,  it  is  right  dudgin 

and  deepe  discretion.    But  soft,  I  must  now  make  a  graue  speach. 

There  is  small  difference  between  Swallowes  &  Martins^  either  in 

10  shape  or  nature,  saue  onely,  that  the  Martins,  haue  a  more  beetle  head, 
they  both  breed  in  Churches,  and  hauing  fledgde  their  young  ones,  leaue 
nothing  behind  them  but  durt.  Vnworthie  to  come  into  the  Church 
porch,  or  to  be  nourished  vnder  anie  good  mans  eues,  that  gnawe  the 
bowels,  in  which  they  were  bred,  and  defile  the  place,  in  which  they  were 

15  ingendred. 

They  studie  to  pull  downe  Bishopps,  and  set  vp  Superintendents,  which 
is  nothing  else,  but  to  raze  out  good  Greeke,  8c  enterline  bad  Latine, 
A  fine  period ;  but  I  cannot  continue  this  stile,  let  me  fal  into  my  olde 
vaine.    O  doost  remember,  howe  that   Bastard  Junior  complaines  of 

ao  brothells,  and  talkes  of  long  Megg  of  Westminster,  A  craflie  iacke,  you 
thoght  because  you  twitted  Mar-martin,  that  none  would  suspect  you ; 
yes  faith  Martin,  you  shall  bee  thresht  with  your  owne  flaile. 

It  was  one  of  your  neast,  that  writt  this  for  a  loue  letter,  to  as  honest  Het 
a  woma  as  euer  burnt  malt.     Grace,  mercie,  and  peace  to  thee  (O  widow)    j^^j^ 

25  witkferucnt  motions  of  the  spirit,  that  it  may  worke  in  thee  both  to  wilt  stiil  lien  at 
and  to  doo.     Thou  knowest  my  loue  to  thee  is,  as  Paules  was  to  the   Corinth  as 
Corinthians ;  that  is,  the  loue  of  copulation.  ^  V 

How  now  holie  Martin,  is  this  good  wooing  ?  If  you  prophane  the 
Scriptures,  it  is  a  pretie  wit ;  if  we  but  alledge  Doctors  to  exi>ound  them, 

30  wee  are  wicked.  \i  Martin  oppresse  his  neighbor,  why  hee  saith,  it  is 
his  conscience;  if  anie  else  doo  right,  it  is  extremitie.  Martin  may 
better  goe  into  a  brothell  house,  then  anie  other  go  by  it ;  he  slides  into 
a  bad  place  like  the  Sunne,  all  others  stick  in  it  like  pitch.  If  Martin 
speake  broad  bawdrie,  why  all  the  crue  sales,  your  worship  is  passing 

35  merrie.    Martin  will  not  sweare,  but  with  indeede,  in  sooth,  &  in  truth, 

hee*le  cogge  the  die  of  deceipt,  and  cutte  at  the  bumme-carde  of  his 

conscience.    O  sweetelie  brought  in,  at  least  three  figures  in  that  line, 

besides,  the  wit  ant. 

One  there  was,  and  such  a  one  as  Martin  would  make  the  eldest  of 

40  his  Elders,  that  hauing  fortie  angels  sent  him  for  a  beneuolence,  refusde 
to  giue  the  poore  fellowe  a  quittance  for  the  receipt,  saying,  Christ  had 
giuen  his  master  a  quittance,  the  same  howre  he  told  it  out :  &  this  was  at 

36  dye  A 
D  d  2 


404  PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET 

his  tabic,  where  he  sate  with  no  lesse  than  fortic  good  dishes  of  the  greatest 
dainties,  in  more  pompe  than  a  Pope,  right  like  a  superintendant. 

Now  to  the  two  bastards,  what  were  you  twins  ?  It  shuld  seeme  sOb 
for  there  wet  but  a  paire  of  sheres  betweene  your  knaueries.  When  the 
old  henne  hatcht  such  eggs,  the  diuel  was  in  the  cocks  comb.  Yours 
father  thrusts  you  forward,  remember  pettie  Martins  Aesops  crab,  the 
mother  going  backward,  exhorted  her  sonnes  to  goe  forward ;  doo  yoo 
so  first  mother  quoth  they,  and  we  will  follow.  Now  the  old  cuckold 
hath  puld  in  his  homes,  he  would  make  you  creepe  deane  out  of  the 
shell,  &  so  both  loose  your  houses,  and  shewe  your  nakednesse.  You  go  i« 
about  impossibilities,  weie  no  such  chage,  and  if  yee  had  it,  yee  would 
be  wearie  of  it. 

There  was  a  man  like  Martin^  that  had  a  goose,  which  euerie  date  laid 
him  a  golden  egge ;  hee  not  content  with  the  blessing,  kild  his  goose, 
thinking  to  haue  a  mine  of  golde  in  her  bellie,  and  finding  nothing  bat  15 
dung,  the  g§der  wisht  his  goose  aliue.  Martinists  that  Hue  well  by  the 
Church,  &  receiue  great  benefites  of  it,  thinke  if  all  Churches  were  downe, 
they  should  be  much  better,  but  when  they  shall  see  cofusion  in  stead  of 
discipline,  &  atheisme  to  be  found  in  place  of  doctrine,  will  they  not  with 
sighs  wish  the  Churches  and  Bishops  in  their  wonted  gouemmet  ?  Thou  so 
art  well  seen  in  tales,  &  preachest  Aesops  fables.  Tush,  He  bring  in 
Pueriles,  and  Sians  puer  ad  mensam,  for  such  vnmannerlie  knaues  as 
Martin,  must  bee  set  againe  to  their  A.B.C.  and  leame  to  spell  Our 
Father  in  a  Home  booke.  Martin  Junior  giues  warning  that  none  write 
against  reuerent  Martin :  yes,  there  are  a  tribus  ad  centum^  from  three  25 
to  an  hudred,  that  haue  vowed  to  write  him  out  of  his  right  wittes,  and 
we  are  all  Aptots^  in  all  cases  alike,  til  we  haue  brought  Martin  to  the 
ablatiue  case,  that  is,  to  bee  taken  away  with  Bulls  voider. 

O  here  were  a  notable  full  point,  to  kaue  Martin  in  the  hangmans 
apron.    Nay,  he  would  be  glad  to  scape  with  hanging,  weele  first  haue  30 
him  lashte  through  the  Realm e  with  cordes,  that  when  hee  comes  to  the 
gallowes,  he  may  be  bleeding  new. 

The  babie  comes  in  with  Nunka,  Neame,  and  Dad:  (Pappe  with  an 
hatchet  for  such  a  puppie)  giue  the  infant  a  bibbe,  he  all  to  beslauers  his 
mother  tongue,  if  he  driuell  so  at  the  mouth  and  nose,  weele  haue  him  35 
wipte  with  a  hempen  wispe.  Huif  How  often  hast  thou  talkt  of  haltring  ? 
Whie  it  runnes  still  in  my  minde  that  they  must  bee  hangd.  Hangde  is 
the  Que,  and  it  comes  iust  to  my  purpose. 

There  was  one  endited  at  a  laile  deliuerie  of  felonie,  for  taking  vp  ap 
halter  by  the  high  way.    The  lurie  gaue  verdit  and  said  guiltie.    The  40 
Judge  an  honest  man,  said  it  was  hard  to  find  one  guiltie  for  taking  vp 
a  penie  halter,  and  bad  them  consider,  what  it  was  to  cast  awaie  a  man. 

34  Mantin  B  35  Nnncka  A 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  405 

Quoth  the  foreman,  we  haue  enquired  throughly,  and  found  there  was 
a  horse  tied  to  the  halter.  I  marie  (quoth  the  Judge)  then  let  him  be 
tied  to  the  halter,  and  let  the  horse  goe  home.  Martin^  a  Monarch  in 
his  owne  moyst  conceit,  and  drie  counsell,  saies  he  is  enuied  onelie, 
5  because  he  leuelleth  at  Bishops ;  &  we  say  as  the  Judge  saith,  that  if 
there  were  nothing  else,  it  were  hard  to  persecute  them  to  death ;  but 
when  we  finde  that  to  the  rule  of  the  Church,  the  whole  state  of  the 
Realme  is  linckt,  &  that  they  filching  away  Bishop  by  Bishop,  seeke  to 
fish  for  the  Crown,  and  glew  to  their  newe  Church  their  owne  conclusions, 

to  we  must  then  say,  let  Bishops  stand,  &  they  hang ;  that  is,  goe  home. 
Looke  howe  manie  tales  are  in  this  booke,  so  manie  must  you  abate  of 
an  hundred  in  the  next  booke,  reckon  this  for  one. 

There  came  by  of  late  a  good  honest  Minister,  with  a  cloake  hauing 
sleeues :  ah  (quoth  a  Martinist,  sitting  on  a  bulke  in  Cheapside)  he  is 

15  a  knaue  I  warrant  you,  a  claspe  would  become  one  of  his  coate  to  claspe 

his  cloak  vnder  his  chinne.    Where  tis  to  be  noted,  that  they  come  in 

with  a  sleeuelesse  conscience,  and  thinke  it  no  good  doctrine,  which  is 

not  preached  with  the  cloak  cast  ouer  each  shoulder  like  a  rippier. 

Twas  a  mad  knaue  and  a  Martinist,  that  diuided  his  sermon  into 

ao  34.  parts  for  memorie  sake,  and  would  handle  but  foure  for  memorie  sake, 
and  they  were,  why  Christ  came,  wherefore  Christ  came,  for  what  cause 
Christ  came,  and  to  what  end  Christ  came;  this  was  all  for  memorie 
sake.  If  that  Martin  could  thatch  vp  his  Church,  this  mans  scabship 
should  bee  an  Elder,  and  Elders  they  may  bee,  which  being  fullest  of 

35  spungie  pith,  proue  euer  the  driest  kixes.  For  in  time  you  shall  see, 
that  it  is  but  a  bladder  of  worldlie  winde  which  swells  in  their  hearts, 
being  once  prickt,  the  humour  will  quicklie  be  remoued.  O  what  a  braue 
state  of  the  Church  it  would  be  for  all  Ecclesiasticall  causes  to  come 
before  Weauers  and  Wierdrawers,  to  see  one  in  a  motlie  lerkin  and  an 

30  apron  to  reade  the  first  lesson.  The  poore  Church  should  play  at  vnequal 
game,  for  it  should  loose  al  by  the  Elder  hand.  Nay  Mas  Martin,  weele 
make  you  deale,  shuffle  as  well  as  you  can,  we  meane  to  cut  it. 

If  you  had  the  foddring  of  the  sheep,  you  would  make  the  Church  like 
Primero,  foure  religions  in  it,  and  nere  one  like  another.    I  cannot  out 

35  of  this  gaming  humour.  Why  ?  Is  it  not  as  good  as  Martins  dogged 
humour,  who  without  reuerence,  regard,  or  exception,  vseth  such  vnfitting 
tearmes,  as  were  hee  the  greatest  subiect  in  England  hee  could  not  iustifie 
them. 

Shut  the  doores  (sirs)  or  giue  mc  my  skimmer,  Martins  mouth  hath 

40  sod  vnskimde  these  twelue  months,  and  now  it  runnes  ouer ;  yet  let  him 
alone,  he  makes  but  porredge  for  the  diuell. 

His  Elderberrines  though  it  be  naught  woorth,  yet  is  it  like  an  elder- 

2  I  (marie  quoth  A         39  Wierdawers  BC        55  this  A :  his  BC        39  had  B 


4o6  PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET 

berrie,  which  being  at  the  ripencs  of  a  perfect  black,  yet  brused  staioes 
ones  hands  like  bloud.  They  pretending  grauitie  in  the  rottennes  of  their 
zeale,  bee  they  once  wrung,  you  shall  finde  them  lighter  than  featben. 
Thats  a  simile  for  the  slaues.  Nay,  He  touch  them  deeper,  and  make 
them  crie,  O  my  heart,  there  is  a  false  knaue  among  vs.  f 

Take  awaie  this  beard,  and  giue  mee  a  pikede  vaunt,  Martin  sweaucs 
by  his  ten  bones :  nay,  I  will  make  him  mumpe,  mow,  and  chatter,  Uke 
old  lohn  of  Paris  garden  before  I  leaue  him. 

If  Martin  will  fight  Citie  fight,  wee  challenge  him  at  all  weapons,  from 
the  taylors  bodkin  to  the  watchmans  browne  bil.    If  a  field   may  beta 
pitcht,  we  are  readie :  if  they  scratch,  wee  will  bring  cattes :    if  scolde, 
we  will  bring  women :   if  multiplie  words,  we  will  bring  fooles :   if  they 
floute,  we  will  bring  quippes :    if  dispute  the   matter,   we    will   brii^ 
schollers  :  if  they  buffet,  wee  will  bring  fists.    Deus  boney  what  a  number 
of  we  will  brings  be  here  ?    Nay,  we  will  bring  Bull  to  hang  them.  13 
A  good  note  &  signe  of  good  lucke,  three  times  motion  of  Bu/L     Modon 
oi Built    Why,  next  olde  Rosses  motion  of  Bridewell,  Buls  motion  fits 
them  best.     Tria  sequuntur  tria^  in  reckoning  Bull  thrice,  meethinkes 
it  should  presage  hanging.     O  bad  application ;  Bad  ?     I  doo  not  thinke 
there  can  be  a  better,  than  to  applie  a  knaues  necke  to  an  halter.   Martin  >o 
can  not  start,  I  am  his  shadowe,  one  parte  of  the  dale  before  him,  another 
behinde  him ;  I  can  chalke  a  knaue  on  his  backe  thrice  a  weeke.  He  let 
him  bloud  in  the  combe. 

Take  heed,  he  will  pistle  thee.  Pistle  me  ?  Then  haue  I  a  pestle  so 
to  stampe  his  pistles,  that  He  beate  all  his  wit  to  powder.  What  will  25 
the  powder  of  Martins  wit  be  good  for  ?  Marie  blow  vp  a  dram  of  it 
into  the  nostrels  of  a  good  Protestant,  it  will  make  him  giddie ;  but  if 
you  minister  it  like  Tobacco  to  a  Puritane,  it  will  make  him  as  mad  as 
a  Martin, 

Goe  to,  a  hatch  before  the  doore,  Martin  smels  thee,  and  wil  not  feare  30 
thee  ;  thou  knowest  how  he  deales  with  the  Archbishop  and  a  Counsellor, 
hee  will  name  thee  and  that  broadlie.  Name  me  ?  Mary,  he  and  his 
shall  bee  namefied,  that's  it  I  thirst  after,  that  name  to  name,  and  knowing 
one  another,  wee  may  in  the  streetes  grapple ;  wee  except  none :  wee 
come  with  a  verse  in  our  mouthes,  courage  in  our  hearts,  and  weapons  35 
in  our  hands,  and  crie 

Discite  iustitiam  moniti^  6r*  non  temnere  diuos, 

Martins  conscience  hath  a  periwig  ;  therefore  to  good  men  he  is  more 
sower  than  wig :  a  Lemman  will  make  his  conscience  curd  like  a  Posset 
Now  comes  a  biting  speach,  let  mee  stroake  my  beard  thrice  like  a  40 
Germain,  before  I  speak  a  wise  word. 

Martin^  wee  are  now  following  after  thee  with  hue  and  crie,  &  are  hard 

4  smile  A 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  407 

at  thy  heeles ;  if  thou  tume  backe  to  blade  it,  wee  doubt  not  but  three 
honest  men  shall  bee  able  to  beate  sixe  theeues.  Weele  teach  thee  to 
commit  sacriledge,  and  to  robbe  the  Church  of  xxiiij.  Bishops  at  a  blowe. 
Doost  thinke  that  wee  are  not  men  Martin^  and  haue  great  men  to 
5  defend  vs  which  write  ?  Yes,  although  with  thy  seditious  cloase,  thou 
would'st  perswade  her  Maiestie,  that  most  of  the  Gentlemen  of  account 
and  men  of  honour,  were  by  vs  thought  Puritanes.  No,  it  is  your  poorc 
lohns,  that  with  your  painted  consciences  haue  coloured  the  religion 
of  diuers,  spreading  through  the  veynes  of  the  Commonwealth  like  poyson, 
10  the  doggednes  of  your  deuotions ;  which  entring  in  like  the  smoothnes  of 
oyle  into  the  flesh,  fretteth  in  time  like  quicksiluer  into  the  bones. 

When  children  play  with  their  meate,  tis  a  signe  their  bellies  are  full, 
&  it  must  be  taken  away  from  them  ;  but  if  they  tread  it  vnder  their  feete, 
they  ought  to  be  ierkt.  The  Gospell  hath  made  vs  wantons,  wee  dallie 
15  with  Ceremonies,  dispute  of  circumstances,  not  remembring  that  the 
Papists  haue  been  making  roddes  for  vs  this  thirtie  yeares;  wee  shall 
bee  swing'd  by  them,  or  worse  by  Martin^  if  Martins  bee  worse.  Neuer 
if  it,  for  they  bee  worse  with  a  witnesse,  and  let  the  diuell  be  witnesse. 
Wee  are  so  nice,  that  the  Cap  is  a  beame  in  our  Church,  the  booke 
ao  of  Common  Praier  a  milstone,  the  PcUer  nosier  is  not  well  pend  by  Christ. 
Well,  either  religion  is  but  policie,  or  policie  scarce  religious. 

If  a  Gentleman  riding  by  the  way  with  twentie  men,  a  number  of 

theeues  should  by  deuise  or  force  binde  all  his  seruants ;  the  good  lustice 

of  Peace  would  thinke  he  should  bee  robd.    When  Martinists  rancke 

35  robbers  of  the  Church  shall  binde  the  legges  and  armes  of  the  Church, 

me  thinkes  the  supreme  head  of  the  Church  should  looke  pale. 

They  that  pull  downe  the  bells  of  a  steeple,  and  say  it  is  conscience, 
will  blow  vp  the  chauncell  to  make  it  the  quintessence  of  conscience. 
Bir  Ladie,  this  is  a  good  settled  speech,  a  Diuine  might  haue  seemd  to 
30  haue  said  so  much.  O  sir,  I  am  not  al  tales,  and  riddles,  and  rimes, 
and  iestes,  thats  but  my  Liripoope,  if  Martin  knock  the  bone  he  shall 
find  marrow,  &  if  he  looke  for  none,  we'le  knock  the  bone  on  his  pate, 
and  bring  him  on  his  marie  bones. 

I  haue  yet  but  giuen  them  a  fillip  on  the  conceipt,  He  fell  it  to  the 
35  ground  hereafter.  Nay,  if  they  make  their  consciences  stretch  like 
chiuerell  in  the  raine.  He  make  them  crumple  like  parchment  in  the  fire. 

I  haue  an  excellent  balme  to  cure  anie  that  is  bitten  with  Martin  mad-dog. 

I  am  worth  twentie  Pistle-penners ;  let  them  but  chafe  my  penne,  & 
it  shal  sweat  out  a  whole  realme  of  paper,  or  make  the  odious  to  the 
40  whole  Realme. 

O  but  be  not  partial,  giue  them  their  due  though  they  were  diuels,  so 
will  I,  and  excuse  them  for  taking  anie  money  at  interest. 

4  Doest  A  17  Martin]  Martins  A  30  not]  nor  B 


4o8 


PAPPE  WLTK  AN   HATCHET 


Ifitb€ 
shewed  at 
Paules,  it 
will  cost 
youfoure 
pence:  at 
the  Theater 
twopence: 
at  Sctinct 
Thomas  a 
iVatrings 
nothing, 

Reade 
Martin 
Seniors 
LibeU,  and 


There  is  a  good  Ladie  that  lent  one  of  these  Martinists  Ibrtie  pounds^ 
and  when  at  the  dale  shee  required  her  money,  Martin  began  to  stonne, 
and  said,  he  thought  her  not  the  child  of  God,  for  they  must  lend,  looking 
for  nothing  againe,  and  so  to  acquite  himselfe  of  the  blot  of  vsurie,  he 
kepte  the  principall.  « 

These  Martins  make  the  Scriptures  a  Scriueners  shop  to  drawe  am- 
ueyances,  and  the  common  pleas  of  Westminster  to  take  forfeitons. 
Theyle  not  sticke  to  outlaw  a  mans  soule,  and  seme  it  presently  with 
an  execution  of  damnation,  if  one  denie  them  to  lie  with  his  neighboais 
wife.  If  they  bee  drunke,  they  say,  they  haue  Timothie  his  weaken 
stomacke,  which  Saint  Paule  willeth  to  warme  with  wine. 

They  haue  sifted  the  holie  Bible,  and  left  vs  nothing  as  they  say,  bat 
branne  ;  they  haue  boulted  it  ouer  againe  and  againe,  and  got  themselues 
the  fine  meale ;  tis  meale  indeede,  for  with  their  wresting  and  shuffling 
holie  Writ,  they  finde  all  themselues  good  meales,  and  stand  at  liuerie  15 
as  it  were,  at  other  mens  tables. 

Sed  heus  tu,  die  sodeSy  will  they  not  bee  discouraged  for  the  common 
players  ?  Would  those  Comedies  might  be  allowed  to  be  plaid  that  are 
pend,  and  then  I  am  sure  he  would  be  decyphered,  and  so  perhaps  dis- 
couraged, so 

He  shall  not  bee  brought  in  as  whilom  he  was,  and  yet  verie  well,  with 
a  cocks  combe,  an  apes  face,  a  wolfs  bellie,  cats  clawes,  &c.  but  in 
a  cap'de  cloake,  and  all  the  best  apparell  he  ware  the  highest  day  in  the 
yeare,  thats  neither  on  Christmas  daie.  Good  fridaie,  Easter  dale.  Ascen- 
sion, nor  Trinitie  sundaie,  (for  that  were  popish)  but  on  some  rainie  as 
wecke  daie,  when  the  brothers  and  sisters  had  appointed  a  match  for 
particular  praiers,  a  thing  as  bad  at  the  least  as  Auricular  confession. 

A  stage  plaier,  though  he  bee  but  a  cobler  by  occupation,  yet  his 
chance  may  bee  to  play  the  Kings  part.    Martin^  of  what  calling  so  euer 
he  be,  can  play  nothing  but  the  knaues  part,  qui  tantum  constans  im  30 
knauitate  sua  est,  » 

Would  it  not  bee  a  fine  Tragedie,  when  Mardocheus  shall  play  a 
Bishoppe  in  a  Play,  and  Martin  Hamman^  and  that  he  that  seekes  to 
pull  downe  those  that  are  set  in  authoritie  aboue  him,  should  be  hoysted 
vpon  a  tree  aboue  all  other.  35 

Though  he  play  least  in  sight  now,  yet  we  hope  to  see  him  stride  from 
Aldgate  to  Ludgate,  and  looke  ouer  all  the  Citie  at  London  Bridge.  Soft 
swift,  he  is  no  traytor.  Yes,  if  it  bee  treason  to  encourage  the  Commons 
against  the  chiefe  of  the  Clergie,  to  make  a  gcnerail  reuolt  from  the 
goucmment  so  wel  established,  so  wisely  maintained,  and  so  long  40 
prospering. 

Because  they  say,  Aue  Cascxr^  therefore  they  meane  nothing  against 
Csesar.  There  may  bee  hidden  vnder  their  long  gownes,  short  daggers, 
and  so  in  blearing  Csesars  eyes,  conspire  Caesars  death.    God  saue  the 


PAPPE  WITH  AN  HATCHET  409 

Queene ;   why  it  is  the  Que  which  they  take  from  the  mouthes  of  all  you  shall 
traytors,  who  though  they  bee  throughly  conuinced,  both  by  proofe  and  p^^ceiue 
their  owne  confessions,  yet  at  the  last  gaspe  they  crie,  God  saue  the  abUtoUach 
Queene.    GOD  saue  the  Queene  (say  I)  out  of  their  hands,  in  whose   Gracchus 
5  hearts  (long  may  the  Queene  thus  goueme)  is  not  engrauen.  ^.^^*/^' 

Her  sacred  Maiestie  hath  this  thirtie  yeares,  with  a  setled  and  princelie 
temper  swayed  the  Scepter  of  this  Realme,  with  no  lesse  content  of  her 
subiects,  than  wonder  of  the  world.  GOD  hath  blessed  her  gouem- 
ment,  more  by  miracle  tha  by  counsaile,  and  yet  by  counsaile  as  much 

10  as  can  come  from  policie.  Of  a  State  taking  such  deepe  roote,  as  to  be 
fastened  by  the  prouidence  of  God,  the  vertue  of  the  Prince,  the  wise- 
dome  of  Counsellers,  the  obedience  of  subiects,  and  the  length  of  time ; 
who  would  goe  about  to  shake  the  lowest  bough,  that  feeles  in  his  con- 
science but  the  least  blessing.     Heere  is  a  fit  roome  to  squese  them 

15  with  an  Apothegme. 

There  was  an  aged  man  that  liued  in  a  well  ordered  Common-wealth 
by  the  space  of  threescore  yeares,  and  finding  at  the  length  that  by  the 
heate  of  some  mens  braines,  and  the  warmnes  of  other  mens  bloud,  that 
newe  alterations  were  in  hammering,  and  that  it  grewe  to  such  an  height, 

20  that  all  the  desperate  &  discontented  persons  were  readie  to  runne  their 
heads  against  their  head ;  comming  into  the  midst  of  these  mutiners, 
cried  as  loude  as  his  yeares  would  allow ;  Springalls  and  vnripened 
youthes,  whose  wisedomes  are  yet  in  the  blade,  when  this  snowe  shall  ^ 

be  melted  (laying  his  hand  on  his  siluer  haires)  then  shal  you  find  store 

25  of  durt,  and  rather  wish  for  the  continuance  of  a  long  frost,  than  the 
comming  of  an  vntimely  thaw.     He  moralize  this. 

He  warrant  the  good  old  man  meant,  that  when  the  ancient  gouem- 
ment  of  the  state  should  be  altered  by  faction,  or  newe  lawes  brought 
in  that  were  deuised  by  nice  heads,  that  there  should  followe  a  foule  and 

30  slipperie  managing ;  where  if  happelie  most  did  not  fall,  yet  all  would 
bee  tired.  A  settled  raigne  is  not  like  glasse  mettal,  to  be  blowne  in 
bignesse,  length  or  fashion  of  euerie  mans  breath,  and  breaking  to  be 
melted  againe,  &  so  blowne  afresh ;  but  it  is  compared  to  the  fastning 
of  the  Cedar,  that  knitteth  it  selfe  with  such  wreaths  into  the  earth,  that 

35  it  cannot  be  remooued  by  any  violent  force  of  the  aire. 

Martin^  I  haue  taken  an  inuentorie  of  al  thy  vnciuill  and  rakehell 
tearmes,  and  could  sute  them  in  no  place  but  in  Bedlam  and  Bridewell, 
so  mad  they  are,  and  so  bad  they  are,  and  yet  all  proceedes  of  the  spirit 
I  thinke  thou  art  possest  with  the  spirites  of  lacke  Straw  &  the  Black- 

40  smith,  who,  so  they  might  rent  in  peeces  the  gouemment,  they  would 
drawe  cuts  for  religion. 

If  all  be  conscience,  let  conscience  bee  the  foundation  of  your  building, 

3  sane  B 


4IO  PAPPE   WITH   AN   HATCHET 

not  the  glasse,  shew  effects  of  conscience,  mildnesse  in  spirit,  obedience 
to  Magistrates,  loue  to  thy  brethren.  Stitch  charitie  to  thy  faith,  or  rip 
faith  from  thy  works. 

If  thou  wilt  deale  soberlie  without  scoifes,  thou  shalt  be  answered 
grauely  without  iests,  yea  and  of  those,  whom  thou  canst  not  controll  ki  j 
learning,  nor  accuse  for  ill  life,  nor  shouldst  contemne  for  authoride. 
But  if  like  a  restie  lade  thou  wilt  take  the  bitt  in  thy  mouth,  and  then 
runne  ouer  hedge  and  ditch,  thou  shalt  be  broke  as  Prosper  broke  his 
horses,  with  a  muzroule,  portmouth,  and  a  martingall,  and  so  haue  thy 
head  runne  against  a  stone  wall.  n 

If  thou  refuse  learning,  and  sticke  to  libelling ;  if  nothing  come  out 
of  those  lauish  lips,  but  taunts  not  without  bittemesse,  yet  without  wit ; 
rayling  not  without  spite,  yet  without  cause,  then  giue  me  thy  hand,  thoa 
and  I  will  trie  it  out  at  the  cuckingstoole.  He  make  thee  to  forget 
Bishops  English,  and  weep  Irish  ;  next  hanging  there  is  no  better  reuenge  15 
on  Martin^  than  to  make  him  crie  for  anger ;  for  there  is  no  more  sulleo 
beast,  than  a  he  drab.  He  make  him  pull  his  powting  croscloath  ouer  his 
beetle  browes  for  melancholie,  and  then  my  next  booke,  shall  be  Martin 
in  his  mubble  fubbles. 


Here  I  was  writing  Finis  and  Funis,  and  determined  to  lay  it  by,  till  10 
I  might  see  more  knauerie  filde  in  :  within  a  while  appeared  olde  Martin 
with  a  wit  worn  into  the  socket,  twinkling  and  pinking  like  the  snuffe  of 
a  candle ;  quantum  mutatus  ab  illo,  how  vnlike  the  knaue  hee  was  before, 
not  for  malice  but  for  sharpnesse. 

The  hogshead  was  euen  come  to  the  hauncing,  and  nothing  could  be  35 
dra^ne  from  him  but  dregs :  yet  the  emptie  caske  sounds  lowder  than 
when  it  was  ful ;  and  protests  more  in  his  waining,  than  he  could  per- 
forme  in  his  waxing.      I   drew  neere  the  sillie  soule,  whom   I   found 
quiuering  in  two  sheetes  of  protestation  paper.    O  how  meager  and  leane 
hee  lookt,  so  creast  falne,  that  his  combe  hung  downe  to  his  bill,  and  30 
had  I  not  been  sure  it  was  the  picture  of  enuie,  I  shoulde  haue  swonie 
it  had  been  the  image  of  death,  so  like  the  verie  Anatomie  of  mischiefe, 
that  one  might  see  through  all  the  ribbes  of  his  conscience,  1  began 
to  crosse  my  selfe,  and    was  readie  to  say  the  Pater  noster^  but   that 
1  knewe  he  carde  not  for  it,  and  so  vsed  no  other  wordes,  but  4M  in  35 
maiam  cruceipi^  because  I  knewe,  that  lookt  for  him.     1  came  so  neere, 
that  I  could  feele  a  substantiall  knaue  from  a  sprites  shadowe. 

I  sawe  through  his  paper  coffin,  that  it  was  but  a  cosening  corse,  and 
one  that  had  learned  of  the  holie  maid  of  Kent,  to  lie  in  a  trance,  before 

6  anthoritie  A  :  anthorie  BC  33  it  bad  been  the  image  .  .  .  No  more 

did  one  of  his  minions  (/.  411  /.  35)  this  portion^  representing  tht  whole  offoL  E 
in  the  original  quarto^  is  missing  from  A 


PAPPE  WITH  AN  HATCHET  411 

he  had  brought  foorth  his  lie;  drawing  his  mouth  awrie,  that  could 
neuer  speake  right ;  goggling  with  his  eyes  that  watred  with  strong  wine  ; 
licking  his  lips,  and  gaping,  as  though  he  should  loose  his  childes  nose, 
if  he  had  not  his  longing  to  swallowe  Churches ;  and  swelling  in  the 
5  paunch,  as  though  he  had  been  in  labour  of  a  little  babie,  no  bigger  than 
rebellion ;  but  Truth  was  at  the  Bishops  trauaile :  so  that  Martin  was 
deliuered  by  sedition,  which  pulls  the  monster  with  yron  from  the  beastes 
bowells.  When  I  perceiued  that  hee  masked  in  his  rayling  robes,  I  was 
so  bolde  as  to  pull  off  his  shrowding  sheete,  that  all  the  world  might  see 

ID  the  olde  foole  daunce  naked. 

Tis  not  a  peniwoorth  of  protestation  that  can  buy  thy  pardon,  nor  al 
worth  a  penie  that  thou  proclaimest.  Martin  comes  in  with  bloud,  bloud, 
as  though  hee  should  bee  a  martir.  Martins  are  bad  martirs,  some  of 
them  burnt  seauen  yeares  agoe,  and  yet  aliue.    One  of  them  lately  at 

15  Yorke^  pulling  out  his  napkin  to  wipe  his  mouth  after  a  lie,  let  drop 
a  surgeans  caliuer  at  his  foote  where  he  stood  ;  these  fellowes  can  abide 
no  pompe,  and  yet  you  see  they  cannot  be  without  a  little  squirting  plate : 
rub  no  more,  the  curtail  wrinches. 

They  call  the  Bishops  butchers,  1  like  the  Metaphore  wel,  such  calues 

ao  must  be  knockt  on  the  head,  and  who  fitter  than  the  Fathers  of  the 
Church,  to  cut  the  throates  of  heresies  in  the  Church.  Nay,  whe  they 
haue  no  propertie  of  sheepe  but  bea,  their  fleece  for  flockes,  not  cloath, 
their  rotten  flesh  for  no  dish,  but  ditches  ;  I  thinke  them  woorth  neither 
the  tarring  nor  the  telling,  but  for  their  scabbednes  to  bee  thrust  from 

35  the  pinfolde  to  the  scaffold,  and  with  an  Habeas  corpus  to  remooue  them 
from  the  Shepheards  tarre-boxe,  to  the  hangmans  budget. 

I  but  he  hath  sillogismes  in  pike  sauce,  and  arguments  that  haue  been 
these  twentie  yeres  in  pickle.  I,  picke  hell,  you  shall  not  finde  such 
reasons,  they  bee  all  in  celar^t,  and  dare  not  shewe  their  heads,  for  wee 

30  will  answere  them  in  ferio  and  cut  their  combes.  So  say  they,  their 
bloud  is  sought.  Their  bloud  ?  What  should  wee  doo  with  it,  when 
it  will  make  a  dogge  haue  the  toothach  to  eate  the  puddings. 

Martin  tunes  his  pipe  to  the  lamentable  note  of  Ora  whine  meg,  O  tis 
his  best  daunce  next  shaking  of  the  sheetes ;  but  hee  good  man  meant 

35  no  harme  by  it.  No  more  did  one  of  his  minions,  that  thinking  to  rap  out  an 

oath  and  sweare  by  his  conscience,  mistooke  the  word  and  swore  by  his 

concupiscence  ;  not  vnlike  the  theefe,  that  in  stead  of  God  speede,  sayd 

stand,  and  so  tooke  a  purse  for  Grod  morowe. 

Yet  dooth  Martin  hope  that  all  her  Maiesties  best  subiects  will  become 

40  Martinists ;  a  blister  of  that  tongue  as  bigge  as  a  drummes  head  ;  for  if 
the  Queenes  Maiestie  haue  such  abiects  for  her  best  subiects,  let  all  true 
subiects  be  accompted  abiects. 

38  for  a  God  morowe  A 


412  PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET 

They  that  teare  the  boughs,  will  hew  at  the  tree,  and  faauing  once  wet 
their  feete  in  factions,  will  not  care  how  deepe  they  wade  in  treason. 

After  Martin  had  racked  ouer  his  protestation  with  a  lades  pace; 
hee  runnes  ouer  his  fooleries  with  a  knaues  gallop,  ripping^  vp  the 
souterlie  seames  of  his  Epistle,  botching  in  such  frize  iestes  vppon  fustioB  \ 
earnest,  that  one  seeing  all  sortes  of  his  shreddes,  would  thinke  he  bad 
robd  a  taylors  shop  boord ;  and  then  hee  concludes  all  doggedlie,  with 
Doctor  Bullens  dogge  Springs  not  remembring  that  there  is  not  a  better 
Spanniell  in  England  to  spring  a  couie  of  queanes  than  Martin, 

Hee  sliues  one,  has  a  fling  at  another,  a  long  tale  of  his  talboothe,  of » 
a  vulnerall  sermon,  and  of  a  fooles  head  in  souce.  This  is  the  Epistle 
which  be  woonders  at  himselfe,  and  like  an  olde  Ape  hugges  the  Vrchin 
so  in  his  conceipt,  as  though  it  should  shew  vs  some  new  tricks  ouer  the 
chaine :  neuer  wish  it  published  Martin,  we  pitie  it  before  it  comes  out. 
Tmsse  vp  thy  packet  of  flim  flams,  &  roage  to  some  Countrey  Faire,  or  15 
read  it  among  boyes  in  the  belfrie,  neuer  trouble  the  church  with  chatter- 
ing ;  but  if  like  dawes,  you  will  be  cawing  about  Churches,  build  your 
nests  in  the  steeple,  defile  not  the  quier. 

Martin  writes  merely,  because  (hee  saies)  people  arc  carried  away 
sooner  with  iest  than  earnest.    1,  but  Martin,  neuer  put  Religion  into  20 
a  fooles  coate  ;  there  is  great  oddes  betweene  a  Gospeller,  and  a  libeller. 

If  thy  vain  bee  so  pleasant,  and  thy  wit  so  nimble,  that  all  consists  in 
glicks  and  girds ;  pen  some  playe  for  the  Theater,  write  some  ballads  for 
blinde  Dauid  and  his  boy,  deuise  some  iestes,  &  become  another  Scogen ; 
so  shalt  thou  haue  vent  inough  for  all  thy  vanities,  thy  Printer  shall  pur-  '5 
chase,  and  all  other  iesters  beg. 

For  to  giue  thee  thy  due,  thou  art  the  best  dyed  foole  in  graine  that 
euer  was,  and  all  other  fooles  lacke  manie  graines,  to  make  them  so 
heauie. 

There  is  not  such  a  mad  foole  in  Bedlam,  nor  such  a  baudie  foole  in  ^ 
Bridewell,  nor  such  a  dronken  foole  in  the  stockes,  nor  such  a  scolding 
foole  on  the  cucking-stooie,  nor  such  a  cosening  foole  on  the  pillerie,  nor 
such  a  roaging  foole  in  the  houses  of  correction,  nor  such  a  simple  foole 
kept  of  alms,  nor  such  a  lame  foole  lying  in  the  spittle,  nor  in  all  the 
world,  such  a  foole,  alL  Nay  for  fooles  set  down  in  the  scriptures,  none  3: 
such  as  Martin. 

What  athebt  more  foole,  that  saies  in  his  heart,  There  is  no  Godf 
What  foole  more  proud,  that  stands  in  his  own  coceit  ?  What  foole  more 
couetous  than  he,  that  seekes  to  tedd  abroad  the  Churches  goods  with 
a  forke,  and  scratch  it  to  himselfe  with  a  rake.  4( 

Thou  seest  Martin,  with  a  little  helpe,  to  the  foure  &  twentie  orders 
of  knaues,  thou  maist  solder  the  foure  and  twentie  orders  of  fooles,  and 

3  bad]  hath  A  37  died  AB  33  foole*]  foale  C 


PAPPE  WITH  AN  HATCHET  413 

so  because  thou  saist  thou  art  vnmarried,  thou  maist  commit  matri- 
monie,  from  the  heires  of  whose  incest,  wee  will  say  that  which  you 
cannot  abide,  Good  Lord  deliuer  vs. 

If  this  veyne  bleede  but  sixe  ounces  more,  I  shall  proue  a  pretie  railer, 

5  and  so  in  time  may  growe  to  bee  a  proper  Martinist.    Tush,  I  doo  but 

licke  ouer  my  pamphlet,  like  a  Beares  whelpe,  to  bring  it  in  some  forme  ; 

by  that  time  hee  replies,  it  will  haue  clawes  and  teeth,  and  then  let  him 

looke  to  bee  scratcht  and  bitten  too. 

Thou  seest  Martin  Moldwarpe,  that  hetherto  I  haue  named  none,  but 

ID  markt  them  readie  for  the  next  market :  if  thou  proceed  in  naming,  be 

as  sure  as  thy  shirt  to  thy  knaues  skinne,  that  He  name  such,  as  though 

thou  canst  not  blush,  because  thou  art  past  shame,  yet  they  shall  bee 

sorie,  because  they  are  not  all  without  grace. 

Pasquil  is  comming  out  with  the  Hues  of  the  Saints.    Beware  my  Com- 

1 5  ment,  tis  odds  the  margent  shall  bee  as  full  as  the  text     I  haue  manie 

sequences  of  Saints ;  if  naming  be  the  aduantage,  &  ripping  vp  of  liues 

make  sport,  haue  with  thee  knuckle  deepe,  it  shall  neuer  bee  said  that 

I  dare  not  venter  mine  eares,  where  Martin  hazards  his  necke. 

Now  me  thinkcs  Martin  begins  to  stretch  himselfe  like  an  old  fencer, 

20  with  a  great  conscience  for  buckler,  and  a  long  tohgue  for  a  sword.  *  Lie 

close,  you  old  cutter  at  the  locke.  Nam  mihi  sunt  vires,  &*  mea  tela  nocent, 

Tis  ods  but  that  I  shall  thrust  thee  through  the  buckler  into  the  brain, 

that  is  through  the  conscience  into  the  wit. 

If  thou  sue  me  for  a  double  maime,  I  care  not  though  the  lurie  allow 
35  thee  treble  damages,  it  cannot  amount  to  much,  because  thy  coscience  is 
without  wit,  and  thy  wit  without  conscience,  &  therefore  both,  not  worth 
a  penie. 

Therefore  take  this  for  the  first  venew,  of  a  yonger  brother,  that 

meanes  to  drie  beate  those  of  the  Elder  house.    Martin,  this  is  my  last 

30  straine  for  this  fleech  of  mirth.     I  began  with  God  morrowe,  and  bid 

you  God  night.    I  must  tune  my  fiddle,  and  fetch  some  more  rozen,  that 

it  maie  squeake  out  Martins  Matachine. 

FINIS. 

Candidissimi  Lee  tores,  peto  tenninum  ad  libellandum. 

35  Lectores. 

Assignamus  in  proximum, 

3-3  you  cannot  AB :  thou  cannot  C  20  for  a  buckler  A 


J 


I. 


It 

f 

I 


A  WHIP   FOR  AN  APE 

(DOUBTFUL) 


EDITIONS 

(i)  A  \  Whip  for  an  Ape:  \  Or\  Martin  displaied,  \  Ordo  Sactrdotum  fatuo 
turbatur  ab  omni^  \  Labitur  et  passim  Rtligionis  honos.  \  ^°,  black  letter, 
4  leaves,  paged.  No  date.  Brit.  Mus,  (press-mark  C.  37.  d.  4a)  ;  Lambeth 
Palace  Library, 

(3)  Rythvies  against  Martin  Mar  re- Prelate.  \  Ordo  Sacerdotum  fatuo  turbatur 
ab  omni^  \  Labitur  et  passim  Religionis  honos,  \\  No  date.  Bodleian 
(where  it  appears  bound  between  Mar-Martini  and  Marre- Mar-Martin), 

(3)  Reprinted  from  (a)  in  D'Israeli's  Quarrels  of  Authors,  Lond.  1814,  post  8vo, 

vol.  iii.  pp.  a7i-a8a. 

(4)  Reprinted  from  (i)  in   77ie  Bibliographical  Miscellany ,  No.  5,  March  ao*"* 

1854,  with  a  note  or  two  by  Edward  F.  Rimbault. 


The  present  is  a  reprint  of  the  first  edition,  collated  with  the  second. 


NOTE  ON  THE  DATE  AND  AUTHORSHIP. 

This  lampoon,  the  best  of  the  Anti- Martini st  rhymes,  has  been  claimed 
for  both  Lyly  and  Nash,  to  the  latter  of  whom  I  preferred,  until  just 
lately,  to  assign  it  ^  Its  date  is  fixed  as  about  April,  1589,  (i)  by  the 
allusion  of  the  penultimate  stanza  to  the  Martinist  tract  Hay  any  work 
for  Cooper  f  which  was  issued  about  March  23,  1589  (see  Depositions 
against  Robert  Waldegrave,  HarL  MS,  7042,  pp.  i-ii,  quoted  in  Arber's 
Jntrod.  Sketch  to  the  Controversy,  p.  125) ;  (2)  by  the  following  men- 
tion of  it  in  Martinis  Months  Minde  (the  date  of  which  is  fixed  by  its 
allusion  to  Cottntercuffe^  itself  dated  Aug.  8),  where  (sig.  E  3  verso)  Nash 
recounts  as  successive  sufferings  of  Martin  that  he  was  'drie  beaten 
(marginal  note,  *  T.  C. ')  then  whipt  that  made  him  winse '  (marg.  note, 
*  A  whip  for  an  Ape '),  then  *  made  a  Maygame  vpon  the  Stage  *  (marg. 
note,  *  The  Theater '),  *  and  at  length  cleane  Marde '  (marg.  note,  *  Marre- 
martin  *).  Points  that  seem  to  suggest  Lyly's  authorship  are  the  words 
in  Richard  Harvey's  dedication  of  Plaine  Perciual,  *  to  all  Whip  lohns 
and  Whip  lackes';  and,  internally,  the  use  of  the  expression  ^sweares  by 

*  See  vol.  i.  p.  57  footnote. 


41 6  A  WHIP   FOR  AN   APE 

his  ten  bones '  of  the  Ape  (st.  4),  as  of  Martin  in  Pappe^  p.  406  L  7  ;  the 
uncommon  form  *  rent '  (as  present  tense)  for  *  rend '  (st.  12),  as  in  Pappe^ 
p.  409  1.  40  and  elsewhere  in  Lyly  (cf.  Glossary) ;  the  mention  of  *  Bride- 
well and  Bedlem  *  together  (line  41)  in  connexion  with  Martin's  railing 
(cf.  Pappcy  p.  409  1.  37,  412  1.  30) ;  the  allusion  to  'Scoggins  iests,'  L  56 
(cf.  Pappe^  p.  412  1.  24) ;  the  assertion  that  the  interests  of  Church  and 
Crown  are  bound  up  together,  11.  79-84  (cf.  Papfie,  p.  405  11.  7  sqq. '  to 
the  rule  of  the  Church,  the  whole  state  of  the  Realme  is  linckt,  &  that 
they  filching  away  Bishop  by  Bishop,  seeke  to  fish  for  the  Crown,'  and 
pp.  408  11.  37  sqq.,  412  11.  1-2) ;  and  the  comparison  of  Martin  to  Jack 
Straw,  1.  89  (cf.  Pappe,  p.  409  1.  39).  These  points,  it  is  true,  are  not  con- 
clusive, since  Pappe^  written  towards  the  end  of  September  (pp.  410,  392), 
may  have  borrowed  from  A  Whip ;  and  the  Anti-Martinist  partnership 
would  favour  an  interchange  of  suggestion,  especially  in  work  which 
ignored  art.  Moreover  the  allusions  to  the  stage  in  stanias  i,  6,  8  and 
9  would  suit  Nash  as  well  as  Lyly :  his  pamphlets  have  the  same  argu- 
ment about  the  power  of  the  Cro>^'n  being  endangered  with  that  of  the 
bishops,  and  the  same  charge  against  the  Martinists  of  aiming  at  the 
destruction  of  the  Universities,  1.  'jZ  (cf.  Countercuffe^  sig.  A  iij  recto, 
ironically  exhorting  Martin  Junior  *  Downe  with  learning  and  Vniuer- 
sities  *) :  while  in  Martinis  Months  Minde,  besides  the  allusion  already 
quoted,  we  get  (sig.  H  3)  the  following  comment  on  1.  138  :  *  because  one 
saith  that  your  workes  should  go  the  way  of  all  wast  writings  you  giue 
him  his  owne  word  againe  and  make  him  groome  of  a  close  stoole.' 
But  my  recent  identification  of  a  large  quantity  of  poor  verse  as  Lyiy's 
(see  Introd.  to  Poems  below,  and  cf.  especially  the  Certaine  Verses  of  1586, 
pp.  427-32  and  Note  on  them  vol.  i.  pp.  401-2)  much  lessens  the  hesita- 
tion I  previously  felt  in  attributing  to  him  such  work  as  the  Whip,  One 
should  remember,  too,  that  it  does  not  aim  at  poetry ;  and,  while  I  find 
nothing  which  quite  warrants  the  withdrawal  of  the  epithet  '  doubtful,' 
I  now  incline  to  his  authorship  rather  than  to  that  of  Nash,  and  also  to 
his  authorship  of  such  portions  of  Mar-Martine  as  I  print  below,  the 
rest  being  possibly  by  Nash  (cf.  vol.  i.  pp.  387-8). 

D'Israeli  (Quarrels  of  Authors^  18 14,  vol.  iii.  269)  says  of  the  Whip: 
*  It  is  an  admirable  political  satire  against  a  mob-government.  In  our 
poetical  history  this  specimen  too  is  curious,  for  it  will  show  that  the 
stanza  in  alternate  rhymes,  usu^y  denominated  Elegiac,  is  adapted  to 
very  opposite  themes.  The  solemnity  of  the  versification  is  impressive, 
and  the  satire  equally  dignified  and  keen.'  This  is  much  too  high 
praise ;  but  there  is  interest  in  the  manner  of  the  vehicle's  adaptation 
to  its  purpose  of  social  or  political  satire,  to  which  the  closing  couplet 
gives  an  edge.  It  reminds  me  of  the  early  production  of  William  Basse 
in  the  same  metre,  entitled  Sword  and  Bvckler :  or  Serving-Mans 
Defence^  1 602. 


Whip  for  an  Ape: 

Or 
Martin  difplaied. 


Or  do  Sue tr do  turn  fituo  turbaturai  omiii, 
l^iturS^  fajfim  Keliaioaa  hcnoi. 


A  WHIP  FOR  AN   APE 

(Sig.  A  a  Since  reason  (Martin)  cannot  stay  thy  pen, 

«cto)  We'll  sec  what  rime  will  doo:  haue  at  thee  then. 

A    Dizard  late  skipt  out  vpon  our  Stage ; 
"^^    But  in  a  sacke,  that  no  man  might  him  s^: 
And  though  we  knowe  not  yet  the  paltrie  page, 
Himselfe  hath  Martin  made  his  name  to  b^e. 
A  proper  name,  and  for  his  feates  most  fit;  5 

The  only  thing  wherein  he  hath  shew'd  wit. 

Who  knoweth  not,  that  Apes  men  Martins  call ; 

Which  beast  this  baggage  seemes  as  t'were  himselfe : 
So  as  both  nature,  nurture,  name  and  all. 

Of  that*s  expressed  in  this  apish  elfe.  10 

Which  lie  make  good  to  Martin  Marr-als  face 
In  thr^  plaine  poynts,  and  will  not  bate  an  ace. 

For  first  the  Ape  delights  with  moppes  and  mowes. 
And  mocketh  Prince  and  peasants  all  alike: 

This  iesting  Jacke  that  no  good  manner  knowes,  15 

With  his  Asse  h^les  presumes  all  States  to  strike. 

Whose  scoifes  so  stinking  in  each  nose  doth  smell, 

As  all  mouthes  saie  of  dolts  he  beares  the  bell. 

Sometimes  his  choppes  doo  walke  in  poynts  too  hie, 
Wherein  the  Ape  himselfe  a  Woodcocke  tries :  20 

Sometimes  with  fioutes  he  drawes  his  mouth  awrie, 
And  sweares  by  his  ten  bones,  and  falselie  lies. 

Wherefore  be  what  he  will  I  do  not  passe. 

He  is  the  paltriest  Ape  that  euer  was. 

Such  flaring,  luring,  iarring  fooles  bop^pe ;  25 

Such  hahaes,  t^hdes,  w^h6es,  wild  colts  play  : 

Such  sohoes,  whoopes  and  hallo wes,  hold  and  kdepe ; 
Such  rangings,  ragings,  reuelings,  roysters  ray. 

With  so  foule  mouth,  and  knaue  at  euery  catch, 

Tis  some  knaues  neast  did  surely  Martin  hatch.  30 

19  Chappes  in  Bodleian  copy 


A  WHIP  FOR  AN  APE  419 

Now  out  he  runnes  with  Cuckowe  king  of  May,  <Sig.  a  a  v. 

Then  in  he  leapes  with  a  wild  Morrice  daunce ;  *^  ^^ 

Now  strikes  he  vp  Dame  Lawsens  lustie  lay; 

Then  comes  Sir  Jeffries  ale  tub  tapde  by  chaunce : 
Which  makes  me  gesse,  (and  I  can  shrewdly  smell)  35 

He  ]oues  both  t'one  and  t'other  passing  well. 

Then  straight  as  though  he  were  distracted  quite, 

He  chafeth  like  a  cutpurse  layd  in  Warde ; 
And  rudely  railes  with  all  his  maine  and  might, 

Against  both  Knights  and  Lords  without  regarde:  40 

So  as  Bridewell  must  tame  his  dronken  fits, 
And  Bedlem  heipe  to  bring  him  to  his  wits. 

But  Martifiy  why  in  matters  of  such  waight 

Doest  thou  thus  play  the  Dawe  and  dancing  foole  ? 
O  sir  (quoth  he)  this  is  a  pleasant  baite  45 

For  men  of  sorts,  to  traine  them  to  my  schoole. 
Ye  noble  States  how  can  you  like  hereof, 
A  shamelesse  Ape  at  your  sage  heads  should  scofTe? 

Good  Nod  die  now  leaue  scribling  in  such  matters, 
They  are  no  tooles  for  fooles  to  tend  vnto;  5^ 

Wise  men  regard  not  what  mad  Monckies  patters ; 
Twere  trim  a  beast  should  teach  men  what  to  do. 

Now  TarletofCs  dead  the  Consort  lackes  a  vice : 

For  knaue  and  foole  thou  maist  beare  pricke  and  price. 

The  sacred  sect  and  perfect  pure  precise,  55 

Whose  cause  must  be  by  Scoggins  iests  maintainde, 
Ye  shewe  although  that  purple  Apes  disguise. 

Yet  Apes  (ye)  are  still,  and  so  must  be  disdainde. 
For  though  your  Lyons  lookes  weake  eyes  escapes 
Your  babling  bookes  bewraies  you  all  for  Apes.  60 

The  next  poynt  is.  Apes  vse  to  tosse  and  teare 

What  once  their  fidling  fingers  fasten  on; 
And  clime  aloft  and  cast  downe  euery  where. 

And  neuer  stales  till  all  that  stands  be  gon. 
Now  whether  this  in  Martin  be  not  true,  65 

You  wiser  heads  marke  here  what  doth  ensue. 

What  is  it  not  that  Martin  doth  not  rent  ?  <Sig.  A  3 

Cappes,  Tippets,  Gownes,  blacke  Chiuers,  Rotchets  white;  ^c*c> 

Communion  bookes,  and  Homelies,  yea  so  bent 
To  teare,  as  womens  wimples  feele  his  spite.  70 

Thus  tearing  all,  as  all  Apes  vse  to  doo; 

He  teares  withall  the  Church  of  Christ  in  twa 

EC  a 


420  A  WHIP  FOR  AN  APE 

Marke  now  what  things  he  meanes  to  tumble  downe, 
For  to  this  poynt  to  looke  is  worth  the  while, 

In  one  that  makes  no  choyce  twixt  Cap  and  Crowne;  75 

Cathedral!  Churches  he  would  faine  vntile, 

And  snatch  vp  Bishops  lands,  and  catch  away 

All  gaine  of  learning  for  his  prouling  pray. 

And  thinke  you  not  he  will  pull  downe  at  length 
Aswell  the  top  from  tower,  as  Cocke  from  staple?  80 

And  when  his  head  hath  gotten  some  more  strength, 
To  play  with  Prince  as  now  he  doth  with  people? 

Yes,  he  that  now  saith.  Why  should  Bishops  b6e? 

Will  next  crie  out.  Why  Kings?  The  Saincts  are  Me. 

The  Germaine  Boores  with  Clergie  men  began,  85 

But  neuer  left  till  Prince  and  Pderes  were  dead : 

lacke  Leydon  was  a  holie  zealous  man. 
But  ceast  not  till  the  Crowne  was  on  his  head. 

And  Martins  mate  lacke  Strawe  would  alwaies  ring 

The  Clergies  faults,  but  sought  to  kill  the  King.  90 

Oh  that  quoth  Martin  chwere  a  Noble  man! 

A  vaunt  vile  villaine:  tis  not  for  such  swads. 
And  of  the  Counsell  too ;   Marke  Princes  then  : 

These  roomes  are  raught  at  by  these  lustie  lads. 
For  Apes  must  climbe,  and  neuer  stay  their  wit,  95 

Untill  on  top  of  highest  hilles  they  sit. 

What  meane  they  els,  in  euery  towne  to  craue 
Their  Priest  and  King  like  Christ  himselfe  to  be? 

And  for  one  Pope  ten  thousand  Popes  to  haue. 
And  to  controU  the  highest  he  or  she?  100 

Aske  Scotland  that,  whose  King  so  long  they  crost 

As  he  was  like  his  Kingdome  to  haue  lost. 

Beware  ye  States  and  Nobles  of  this  land, 
(Sig.  A  3  The  Cleigie  is  but  one  of  these  mens  buts : 

Paee  6>  '^^^  ^P^  ^^  ^^  ^°  masters  necke  will  stand  :  105 

Then  %t%%<t  betime  these  gaping  greedie  guts. 
Least  that  too  soone,  and  then  too  late  ye  feele. 
He  strikes  at  head  that  first  began  with  heele. 

The  third  tricke  is,  what  Apes  by  flattering  waies 

Cannot  come  by,  with  biting  they  will  snatch  :  I  xo 

Our  Martin  makes  no  bones,  but  plainlie  saies, 
Their  fists  shall  walke,  they  will  both  bite  and  scratch. 

He'il  make  their  hearts  to  ake,  and  will  not  faile, 

Where  pen  cannot,  their  penknife  shall  preuaile. 

114  their  Q\  qy,t  theie 


A  WHIP  FOR  AN  APE  421 

But  this  is  false,  he  saith  he  did  but  mocke:  115 

A  foole  he  was  that  so  his  words  did  scan. 
He  only  ment  with  pen  their  pates  to  knocke: 

A  knaue  he  is,  that  so  tumes  cat  in  pan. 
But  Martin  sweare  and  stare  as  d^pe  as  hell, 
Thy  sprite  thy  spite  and  mischeoous  mind  doth  tell.  120 

The  thing  that  neither  Pope  with  Booke  nor  Bull, 

Nor  Spanish  King  with  ships  could  do  without, 
Our  Martins  here  at  home  will  worke  at  full; 

If  Prince  curbe  not  betimes  that  rabble  rout. 
That  is,  destroy  both  Church,  and  State,  and  all ;  125 

For  if  t'one  faile,  the  other  n^edes  must  fall. 

Thou  England  then  whom  God  doth  make  so  glad, 

Through  Gospels  grace  and  Princes  prudent  raigne : 
Take  heede  least  thou  at  last  be  made  as  sad. 

Through  Martins  makebates  marring,  to  thy  paine:  130 

For  he  marres  all,  and  maketh  nought,  nor  will, 
Saue  lyes  and  strife,  and  workes  for  Englands  ilL 

And  ye  graue  men  that  answere  Martins  mowes, 

He  mockes  the  more,  and  you  in  vaine  loose  times: 
Leaue  Apes  to  dogges  to  baite,  their  skins  to  crowes,  135 

And  let  old  Lanam  lash  him  with  his  rimes. 
The  beast  is  proud  when  men  wey  his  enditings: 
Let  his  worke  go  the  wale  of  all  wast  writings. 

Now  Martin,  you  that  say  you  will  spawne  out  <Sig.A  4  r. 

Your  broyling  brattes  in  euery  towne  to  dwell ;  140  *•  7> 

Wde  will  prouide  in  each  place  for  your  route 

A  bell  and  whippe,  that  Apes  do  loue  so  welL 
And  if  ye  skippe  and  will  not  wey  the  checke, 
We'll  haue  a  springe  and  catch  you  by  the  necke. 

And  so  adiew  mad  Martin  marre  the  land,  145 

Leaue  off  thy  worke,  and  more  worke,  hear*st  thou  me  ? 

Thy  work's  nought  worth,  take  better  worke  in  hand: 
Thou  marr'st  thy  worke,  &  thy  worke  will  marre  th^ 

Worke  not  a  newe,  least  it  doth  worke  thy  wracke. 

And  thpu  make  worke  for  him  that  worke  doth  lacke.  150 

135  Leaae]   Leaaes  Q  Ij8  D'lsroili  rtprimting  the  'IVhip*  in   the 

*  Quarrels  of  Authors  *  reads  vast :  hut  NasKs  comptent  on  the  tine  in  *  Martinis 
Months  Minde^  sig.  H  3  verso ^  shows  wast  (t.  #.  waste)  to  be  right 


422  A  WHIP  FOR  AN  APE 

And  this  I  warne  th^  Martins  Monckies  face, 
Take  h^ed  of  me,  my  rime  doth  charme  thee  bad : 

I  am  a  rimer  of  the  Irish  race, 
And  haue  alreadie  rimde  th^e  staring  mad. 

But  if  thou  ceasest  not  thy  bald  iests  still  to  spread,  155 

He  neuer  leaue,  till  I  haue  rimde  th^  dead. 


FINIS. 


MAR-MARTINE,  (Titic 

I  know  not  why  a  trueth  in  rime  set  out 
Maie  not  as  wel  mar  Martine  and  his  mates. 
As  shamelesse  lies  in  prose-books  cast  about 
MarpriestSy  &  prelates,  and  subvert  whole  states. 

For  where  truth  builds,  and  lying  overthroes, 

One  truth  in  rime,  is  worth  ten  lies  in  prose  ^. 


L(oRDES)  of  our  land,  and  makers  of  our  Lawes,  (Tide- 

Long  may  yee  Hue,  Lawes  many  may  you  make,  T0reo> 

This  careful,  kind,  and  country-louing  clawse, 
As  from  a  faithfiill  friend,  vouchsafe  to  take : 
Martine  the  merry,  who  now  is  Mar-prelate^  5 

Will  proue  madde  Martine^  and  Martine  mar-the-state. 

The  wind  doth  first  send  forth  a  whistling  sound. 

Then  fierce,  and  fearefiill,  hollow,  thundering  threates. 

At  length  it  riues  the  earth  and  rents  the  ground 

And  tumbles  townes  and  citties  from  their  seates,  lo 

So  he  who  first  did  laughing  libells  send, . 

Will  at  the  last  procure  a  wreakefull  end.  {Fdems, 

Women  are  woed  to  follow  men  precise 

Young  boies  without  experience  hold  thif  Gods, 

Yea  some  for  gaine,  who  are  both  olde  and  wise:  15 

Thus  merrie  Martine  sets  the  world  at  ods. 

The  frozen  snake  for  colde  that  cannot  creepe 

Restorde  to  strength  a  stinging  stur  will  keepe. 

Let  neighbour-nations  leame  vs  to  beware. 
Let  harmes  at  home  teach  vs  for  to  take  heede ;  20 

When  Browne  and  Barrowe  haue  done  what  they  dare. 
Their  hellish  Hidraes  heades  will  spring  with  speede : 

^  Undated,  4<>,  4  leaves,  cropped — ^no  sigs.  remaining.  The  several  rhymes  are  nn- 
nombeied,  withont  beamng  or  signature,  and  smrated  only  by  a  line  across  tibe 
page.   Press-mark  Br.  Mns.  9<S.  b.  15  (i) ;  and  7aa.  g.  ao  (wanting  first  leaf). 


i5»t.5> 


424 


MAR-MARTINE 


{£upk.  ii. 
17a  I  as) 


Such  men  as  Martine  caused  all  these  woes: 
This  poison  still  encreaseth  as  it  goes. 

Somewhat  I  hearde,  and  mickle  haue  I  seene 
It  were  too  long  to  tell  your  Lordships  what : 
Somewhat  I  knowe,  and  somewhat  haue  I  beene, 
Yet  this  I  saie,  and  this  is  also  flat 
Bridle  the  coltish  mouth  of  Male-part 
Or  else  his  hoofe  will  hurte  both  head  and  hart. 

AngUa  Martinis  farce  favere  malis. 


2; 


30 


{on  verso 
of  3rd  leaf) 


Anglia, 


Martinis, 


(There  follows  (2)  another  rhyme  in  16  6-line  stanzas  of  shorter  lines, 
(3)  ten  stanzas  in  Scotch  dialect  in  the  old  14-syllable  rhymes  of  Golding 
and  Phaer,  and  then) 

<4> 

O  England  gemme  of  Europe,  Angells  land, 

Blest  for  thy  gospell,  people,  prince,  and  all, 

And  all  through  peace,  let  Martins  vnderstand 

The  hony  of  thy  peace,  abhorre  their  gall.  35 

Martins  f  what  kind  of  creatures  mought  those  bee  ? 
Birds,  beasts,  men.  Angels,  Feends?    Nay  worse  say  we. 
The  feendes  spake  faire  sometimes  and  honor  gaue, 
Curse  and  contempt  is  all  that  Martins  haue. 


Disce, 


(^F^avire, 


Tms, 


{.Pappe, 
400 
39-40) 


fi:^ 


England  if  yet  thou  art  to  leame  thy  spell, 
Leame  other  things,  such  doctrine  is  for  hell. 

What  favor  would  these  Martins  f    Shall  I  say 
As  other  birds  wherwith  yong  children  play. 
Let  them  be  cagd,  and  hempseed  be  their  food 
Hempseed  the  only  meate  to  feede  this  broode. 
Disdaime  these  monsters,  take  them  not  for  thine. 
Hell  was  their  wombe,  and  hell  must  be  their  shiyne. 

<5> 
Many  would  know  the  holy  Asse, 

And  who  mought  Martin  been, 
Plucke  but  the  footecloth  from  his  backe, 

The  Asse  will  soone  be  seene. 

<6> 
My  Lordes  wise  wittall  Martins  thinkey 

Your  Lordships  flie  to  hie: 
Keepe  on  your  flight  aloft  as  yet, 

Lest  Martins  come  too  nie. 


40 


45 


50 


55 


MAR-MARTINE  425 

For  were  your  winges  a  little  dipt. 

They  soone  would  plucke  the  rest: 
And  then  the  place  too  high  for  you. 

Would  be  pure  Martins  nest. 

(Then  follow  four  other  short  rhymes  in  the  same  ballad  metre.) 

O')  (on  recto 

Wei  maist  thou  marke  but  neuer  canst  thou  marre,  60  ®*4tnicw> 

This  present  state  whereat  thou  so  doost  storme: 

Nor  they  that  thee  vphold  to  make  this  iarre, 

And  would  forsooth  our  English  lawes  deforme. 
Then  be  thou  but  Marke-prelate  as  thou  art : 
Thou  canst  not  marre  though  thou  wouldst  swelt  thy  hart.     65 

<"> 

In  Ammons  land  pretended  Repkaims  dwelt,  Dm.  a.  ao 

That  termd  them-selues  Reformers  of  the  state, 
These  like  Zanzummins^  and  Deformers  dealte, 
Among  the  people  stirring  vp  debate. 

But  when  their  vilenes,  was  espied  and  knowen:  70 

From  Ammons  land  this  Gyants  broode,  was  throwen. 
Our  England,  that  for  vnitie  hath  beene, 
A  glasse  for  Europe^  hath  such  monsters  bread. 
That  raile  at  Prelats,  and  oppugne  their  Queene, 
Whole  common  wealthes,  each  beareth  in  his  head.  75 

These  Rephcdmsy  for  so  the(y)  would  be  deemd  : 

Are  nothing  lesse,  then  that  they  most  haue  seemd. 
Then  if  we  loue  the  gouemement  of  peace. 
Which  true  Reformers  from  aboue  maintaine, 
And  forraine  force  could  never  make  it  cease,  80 

Nor  these  Deformers,  can  with  vices  staine: 

First  let  vs  finde  pretended  Rephaims  rowte, 

And  like  Zansummins^  let  vs  cast  them  out. 

<I3> 
Martin  had  much  a  farther  reach,  then  enery  man  can  gesse, 
Hee  might  haue  cald  himselfe  Mar-preest,  that  hath  bene  somewhat  lesse, 
But  seeking  all  to  overthrowe,  what  ever  high  might  be:  86 

Mar-prelate  he  did  call  himselfe,  a  foe  to  high  d^^ree. 

(The  fourteenth  rhyme,  of  four  lines,  has  lost  a  line  or  two,  being  at 
bottom  of  page.) 

(15)  (onversd 

If  any  mervaile  at  the  man,  and  doe  desire  to  see  ^  ^       ^ 

The  stile  and  phrase  of  Martins  booke :  come  leame  it  here  of  mee. 


426  MAR-MARTINE 

Holde  my  cloke  boy,  chill  haue  a  vling  at  Martin^  O  the  boore ;     90 
And  if  his  horseplay  like  him  well,  of  such  he  shall  haue  store. 
He  thus  bumfeges  his  bousing  mates,  and  who  is  Martins  mate? 
O  that  the  steale-counters  were  knoune,  chood  catch  them  by  the  pate. 
ThVnsauorie  snufies  first  iesting  booke,  though  clownish,  knauish  was : 
But  keeping  still  one  stile,  he  prooues  a  sodden  headed  asse.  95 

Beare  with  his  ingramnesse  a  while,  his  seasoned  wainscot  face: 
That  brought  that  godly  Cobler  ClifTe,  for  to  disproue  his  grace. 

But  (O)  that  Godly  cobler  ClifTe,  as  honest  an  olde  lad, 

As  Martin  (O  the  libeller)  of  hangbyes  ever  had. 

If  I  berime  thy  worshipnes,  as  thou  beliest  thy  betters:  100 

For  railing,  see  which  of  vs  two  shall  be  the  greatest  getters. 

But  if  in  flinging  at  such  states,  thy  noddle  be  no  slower : 

Thy  brother  hangman  will  thee  make,  be  pulde  three  asses  lower. 

Then  mend  these  manners  Martin^  or  in  spite  of  Martins  nose : 

My  rithme  shall  be  as  dogrell,  as  vnleamed  is  thy  prose.  105 

These  tinkers  termes,  and  barbers  iestes  first  Tarleton  on  the  stage. 
Then  Martin  in  hb  bookes  of  lies,  hath  put  in  euery  page : 
The  common  sort  of  simple  swads,  I  can  their  state  but  pitie : 
That  will  vouchsafe,  or  deygne  to  laugh,  at  libelles  so  vnwittie. 
Let  Martin  thinke  some  pen  as  badde,  some  head  to  be  as  knavish : 
Soome  tongue  to  be  as  glibbe  as  his,  some  rayling  all  as  lavish,    iii 
And  be  content :  if  not,  because  we  know  not  where  to  finde  thee : 
We  hope  to  se  thee  where  deserts  of  treason  haue  assigned  thee. 

<I6> 
Cast  of  thy  doake  and  shriue  thy  selfe,  in  doake-bagge,  as  is  meete : 
Wkip^  1.     And  leaue  thy  flinging  at  the  preest,  as  lades  doe  with  their  feete. 
^7)  The  Preest  must  Hue,  the  Bishop  guide:  116 

To  teach  thee  how  to  leaue  thy  pride. 

<I7> 

If  Martin  dy  by  hangmans  hands,  as  he  deserues  no  lesse. 
This  Epitaph  must  be  engravde,  his  maners  to  expresse. 
Here  hangs  knaue  Martine  a  traitrous  Libeler  he  was  120 

Enemie  pretended  but  in  hart  a  friend  to  the  Papa^ 
'hisbodg         Now  made  meat  to  the  birdes  that  about  his  carkas  are  hagling. 
kTxTi*^  Z^ofw^  by  his  example  yee  route  of  Pruritan  Asses, 

^^  Not  to  resist  the  doings  of  our  most  gratious  Hester, 

Martin  is  hangd  (^f)or  the  Master  of  al  Hypocritical  hangbies  . . . 

{It  is  uncertain  whether  one  or  more  lines  followed,  for  the  pamphlet 
has  been  mutilated  in  the  binding,  or  before,  both  at  top,  bottom,  and 

side.) 

108  their]  there  Q 


CERTAINE^ 

ENGLISHE 

Verses^  presented  vnto 


tiie  SXutentfi  moist  excellent  ^aientie,  t;  a  Cour 

tier :  In  ioy  of  the  most  happie  disclosing,  of  the  most  dan- 

geroMi  consfhraciu  pretended  hy  the  Ute  executed  Trat" 

toursy  against  her  reyaU  person,  and 

the  whole  Estate, 


^ 


printer's  dkvice. 


AT   LONDON 

Printed  by  Hentie  Haslop,  and  are  to  bee 

soid  in  PauUs  Chnrch-yard  at  the 
signe  of  the  Bible 


*  4°,  four  leaves,  A-A4.,  verso  of  tide  blank,  no  col.  For  che  occasion  of  these 
verses,  of  Lyly's  authorship  of  which  the  verification  of  the  references  I  have 
inserted  at  11.  ij,  xi,  71, 108, 113-4  will,  I  think,  leave  no  doubt, see  vol.  i. 
p.  401. 


THE  TRIVMPHS  OF  TROPHES, 

In  Saphk  verse  of  lubiles. 


Bxuliaies 
caniaU  D<h 
mino^  &*  iU' 
bilaUDiO 
Jttcob.  PstU, 

mino  in 
Citkara  iu- 
cundab^vou 
cariHinis, 

ClangiU  iu- 
bam^  tumiu 
psaimiky  ^ 
daUiym' 
panum  cum 
nablo. 

Tludnts 

imptosb^  CO- 
fiygistiea- 
piiadraamu 
inaqui^ps. 

Dtmtrtm 

tuntgtnU 

infauea 

fuam 

fiurunt. 


Sepukrum 
paUmsgut- 
turgarum* 


Gladiu 

strinxt- 

rumL^arcH 

UUd^rumt 

impij.viiu- 

guUnitoi 

quirgdo 

eumicordt, 

Vidartni 
eBtbuura  iu^ 
oruinef' 


T  F  DA  VID  daunst  for  ioy  before  the  Arke  being  a  king 

If  Barac  sang  when  Israels  foes  were  foild, 
Then  victors  wee  that  Deboras  song  may  sing 
Our  ludiih  stout  Holofernes  Mates  hath  spoild. 

If  Rome  of  Romane  Triumphes  earst  was  oft  so  glad  5 

and  likewise  Greece  of  Grecians  Trophes  ioyed : 
If  lewes  of  Jubilees  their  onlie  mirth  haue  had 

then  England  leap,  and  laugh  aloud  for  Queene  enioyd. 

Now  Baal  and  Bell,  now  Titanes  sonnes  are  slaine, 
their  Prophets  false  their  wicked  Priests  are  kild  10 

Their  Pluto  howles  that  Babels  brood  are  taen, 
their  Tower  did  fall  that  Nimrods  Imps  did  build. 

Sith  Nessus  brood  and  Cassius  crue  are  knowen 
like  Siluane  Centaures  conspirde  your  Realme  to  quaile,         14 

Take  courage  Queene,  for  Sinon  sleights  abroad  are  blowen,  (^w^iii 
the  Traitours  found,  and  yet  the  treasons  faile.  LqT 

These  Cicloppes  seede  which  at  your  crowne  doe  kicke 
and  frame  a  forme  to  make  your  kingdome  bleed, 

Like  Giants  seeke  with  stones  the  starres  to  strike 
but  mist  the  marke  and  wound  themselues  in  deed :  20 

They  vowd  Zopirus  vowes,  to  please  Darius  beck  iBupk,iL 

they  sought  a  new  deuise  which  Sphinx  of  Rome  the  taught,    97L  30) 

They  £aine  would  finde,  that  England  had  one  neck, 
that  by  a  stroke  the  head  might  off  they  sought— 

Their  match  was  made,  their  wager  was  not  wonne,  25 

their  snares  were  laid,  but  yet  their  purpose  mist, 

Their  day  decreed,  and  yet  the  deed  not  done, 
a  will  they  had  you  see,  that  wanted  what  they  wis(h)t. 

What  thought  Pyragmons  sprats  to  doe,  we  know, 
their  Romish  lesabell  Naboths  vineyard  sought,  30 

39  Pyragmons  sprats  Qi  t.  e,  PyracnunCs  broody  a  variation  on  These  Cicloppes 
seetie  o/st.  5.    Cf,  vol,  ii.  554 


THE  TRIVMPHS  OF  TROPHES 


429 


Who  like  Medusa  bends  her  cursed  Bow 
the  onlie  CirceSy  which  hath  this  mischief  wrought. 

These  vipers  tend  with  Briareus  hundred  hands, 
with  hundred  Argus  eies  these  Scorpions  wait, 

These  busie  Basilisks  and  brood  of  Cocatrice  stands 
like  Nilus  Crocodiles  hungrie  for  their  bait. 

These  sucking  serpents,  these  monstrous  snakish  crewe, 
these  blooddie  Dragons  like  spiteful  Asps  are  set, 

With  Hidras  heads  which  erst  Alcides  slue 
are  now  of  late  with  our  Bellona  mette. 

Of  Canaan  faine  they  would  a  Ch<ws  make, 
and  bring  Palladium  in,  our  Ilion  to  deface, 

A  spoile  for  Hispatne,  a  feat  for  Fraunce  in  hand  they  take 
and  quite  to  make  an  end  of  Brutus  race. 


35 


40 


bum  auibus 
cali,  Psal.7g. 

Deus  vltio- 

nutmesi 

Dominus. 


CaUidu  ex- 
cogUarunt 
consiliu  con* 
tra  dofHtnu, 
Psal.  la  2. 


Vtjerusa' 
UfHponerii 
t'nacerttos 
ruinarum, 
fif.  79. 


Thus  these  climing  mates  Enceiadus  like  attempt,  45  Viaimpio- 

in  armes  seeke  loue  from  skies  by  force  to  take,  SSwof*!^- 

They  seeke  the  Sun,  the  Moone,  the  Starres  in  great  contempt  ^^^"^' 

to  obscure  their  light  a  deadlie  Edips  to  make.  Prou.\. 


They  seeke  with  Phaaton  Phoebus  charge  to  rest, 
Vulcans  net,  Gordian  knot  they  would  vnknit 

And  breake  their  blooddie  blades  on  Pallas  breast, 
thus  they  couet  much  in  Moses  chaire  to  sit. 

To  wrest  from  Hercules  hand  his  Club,  who  can  ? 

who  may  from  loue^  his  lightning  take  by  force? 
Homers  verse,  who  can  disgrace?    I  say  no  man, 

who  then  can  touch  a  sacred  Princes  coarse. 

Though  Casar  was  in  Senate  slaine  by  Brute  his  friend, 
Though  Cirus  head  was  bathd  in  blood  luke  warme, 

No  maruaile  though,  for  blood  requireth  blood  at  thend 
but  mercie  too  much  thine,  I  feare  doth  harme, 

For  if  Laban  was  for  lacob  sake  so  blest, 
and  Putiphats  hap,  by  Josephs  meane  no  lesse 

Our  hap,  our  blisse,  our  ioyes  wherein  we  rest, 
For  whom  it  is,  we  must  of  force  confesse. 

Who  with  lonas  gourd  hath  sau'de  vs  from  the  Sunne, 
Who  with  Aser  shoes,  hath  kept  vs  from  the  mire  ? 

Who  hath  with  Dauids  sling  Golias  mates  vndone. 
our  Cynthia^  she  who  hath  appeas'd  lehouas  ire. 


50 


S§pi  txpug" 
nautrut  m4 
aiuu&iiU 
mta  nunc 
ih'cai  JsratL 
I^al,  lag. 


55 


SamgMts 
•tmguinU 


Dtus 


60 


G4n§9.^jQ, 

39. 


65 


T(Bgm€H  a 
turbin*  6* 
vmbraeu' 
imm  a6  atiu 
dominus 
Dtus.  ils. 
ZZT.  4.) 


40  meete  Q 


50  Gordions  Q 


65  gurth  Q 


430 


THE  TRIVMPHS   OF  TROPHES 


Quaruni 
anitmi  tnta 

^uniiota  dig 
dohsPs.tl^ 


Pont  tos 
dotmnevi 
eb'banufH  ig' 
nis^  in  tetn- 
^oreiraiua, 
Ptai,2\. 


A  ptricuUs 

ftruqutn- 

tiumb^ 

eonutniu 

malignan- 

Humiu 

salusnua. 

Eijotful- 
nun  a*  dis- 
sipetot: 
ntiUt  9agit' 
tastuaats^ 
disturba 
illas.  Psai. 

LeuaU 
signik  caSia 
esi  Babium^ 
cofususesi 
BM, 


Curmspi- 
orum  bistijs 
ttrradedt- 
runt.  PtaJ. 
79. 


Ctmaii  suni 
priuart  nu 
anin%a  mta. 


NoncHftu- 

ni€iHH 

malUy  nu 

appropin- 

quabUplaga 

iabernacuw 

tuc,  I^al  91. 

Non  Mi  con- 
tiim  ndc 
Prudentia 
contra 
Domino, 


These  on  Bellerephom  horse  do  ride  in  skie, 

with  Icarus  wings  to  dime  in  cloudes  is  their  drift. 

These  would  make  Archtias  woodden  Doue  to  flie, 
What  blinde  Tiresias  doth  not  see  their  shift. 

In  Phatonissa  schoole,  at  Endor  they  were  taught, 
with  Dracos  ink  to  write,  with  Creons  seale  to  signe. 

With  ludas  kisse  to  kill,  with  Hamons  haue  they  sought, 
both  ludaes  spoyle,  and  Sions  fall  in  fine. 

These  secret  Satires^  these  cruell  Cateiins  wait, 
these  dogs  of  Moabs  house  greadie  of  their  pray. 

Like  Eumenides  whelpes  tending  on  their  bait, 
Vultures  for  Prometheus  guts  readie  set  in  ray. 

They  ventured  Acherontas  depth  to  wade, 
they  striued  through  Stigias  streame  to  saile, 

M  auger  of  Megeras  head  away  they  made, 
by  Carons  help,  Elisius  field  to  assaile. 

To  make  spotted  Ewes  with  Jacobs  stick  they  sought, 
to  walke  vnseene,  with  Giges  ring  faine  they  would 

Of  Simon  Magus  these  men  would  faine  be  taught, 
like  Curres  by  Circes  charm'd  to  be  with  Lions  bold. 

Circes  cup  is  faine,  Calipsos  sauce  is  shed 
Bedims  brood  is  bar(e)d,  their  Harpies  are  descried, 

Cerberus  soppes  are  found.  Sirens  songs  are  red 
Thus  is  Accaron  knowen,  and  Romane  Idoll  tried. 

Their  drinke  is  blood,  their  bread  is  humane  fiesh, 
Consuls  heads  with  Preachers  tongues  their  food,  &  what 

Is  their  daintiest  dish?    Princes  harts  I  gesse, 
Thus  like  Basan  Bulles,  they  feed  their  Pope  with  fat. 

But  time  decreed,  how  long  should  Assur  liue, 
and  God  foretolde,  when  Pharaoes  life  should  end, 

To  take  thy  life  the  man  of  sinne  doth  striue, 
in  vaine  O  Queene,  when  Angels  thee  defend. 

Could  lomis  in  the  raging  Seas  be  drownd? 

could  Lions  Daniel  in  their  Dennes  deuoure? 
Might  Misael  bume  in  fine  furnace  bound  ? 

durst  Traitours  blade  attempt  our  sacred  Princes  bowre? 

A  blast  of  winde  made  Th*assirians  hoast  to  fiie. 
Earthen  pots  made  Madianites  to  take  their  flight. 

Homes  threw  lerichoes  wall  fiat  on  ground  to  be, 
God  makes  Flies,  Frogs,  Rats  and  Lice,  for  him  to  fight. 

7a  Teresias  Q  77  seccet  Q  91  Cirens  Q 


70 
■13") 


75 


80 


85 


90 


95 


100 


105 


iBnpk.i 
2490.28- 


Eu*i.ii. 


THE  TRIVMPHS  OF  TROPHES 

Cains  curse,  Heroda  death,  I  wish  on  them  to  &11, 
that  s«eke  a  sacred  Prince  with  secret  sword  to  kill, 

ludas  death  to  good  for  ItuUu  mates  I  call, 
who  bathes  in  blood,  and  drinke  of  bk>od  their  fill. 

But  Serpents  neuer  build  in  Boxe,  nor  breede 
'      in  Cipres  tree,  no  Canker  can  the  Emerald  touch, 

Euen  so  these  hellish  Heliettei  cannot  feed, 
on  her  whose  vcrtues  rare  amaseth  mch. 

These  MiHotaiirus  brood  from  Rotiu,  from  CretU, 

with  sword  and  fire,  in  Albton  swaime  like  Bees 
Like  Sampsons  Fous  with  fired  talks  and  fcetc, 

they  dread  no  death  to  winne  a  Popish  feea. 
In  Rhodes  was  neuer  seen,  they  say,  an  Eagles  nest 

some  hold  it  so,  tlia(t)  Crette  can  bleed  no  Owle, 
And  Crowes  in  Athens  were  neuer  seen  at  least 

that  England  breedes  no  w^ues,  an  error  fonle. 
Cymerians  blinde,  that  hannts  Trop{hy<mitis  Cane, 

could  neuer  bide  the  shining  Sunne  in  sight. 
Who  still  in  darknesse  dwell,  the  light  doe  neuer  ciaue, 

hut  like  Cacus  Captuies  shrouded  aie  with  night 
A  simple  Goal  could  asswage  god  Faumis  ire, 

a  grunting  hog  conld  Neplunes  rage  appease, 
A  seelie  Cocke  could  coole  Ascuiapius  fire, 

but  Lions  cround,  the  bull  of  Rome  must  please. 
His  Dan  and  Bethel! ,  sacred  Pantheon  cald, 

bis  sinagoge  esieemes  no  Oze,  no  Calfe,  no  Btdl, 
But  blood  of  kings  in  Royall  seates  enstald, 

wherein  PeriUus  part  he  plaies  at  full 
No  fire  in  Rome  could  Romulus  staffe  consume, 

no  meanes  might  make  Idng  Pyrrhus  toes  to  bume 
But  Pope  with  Nauius  knife  euer  durst  presume, 

with  Briers  and  Brambles  make  Qcdar  trees  to  mourn. 
But  might  these  mates  haue  had  but  Aarons  rod  in  band 

or  could  haue  borrowed  Elias  doke  no  doubt. 
They  had  made  the  Seas,  on  both  sides  for  to  stand, 

that  Fraunte  and  Spaine  might  make  the  slaughter  ont- 
Their  Dagon  fell,  our  sacred  Arke  stood  vp, 

their  Pharaa  myst,  our  Moses  did  preuaile, 
Their  crosse  was  downe,  our  crowne  did  neuer  Stoupe, 
•     Their  Barge  did  sinke,  our  Ship  top  gallant  saile, 


■    rWK  F—l. 


Prt/trltM- 


MS     Qnitdrm, 


43» 


Cadani  a 
amtUijs 
suit^  quonia 
rebeills  sunt 
iibi.  Ptal.  5. 

cap.  17^ 
Act:  cap.  5 
Ad.  cap.  19 


SpiHtus 
firocMarum 
eritpars 
ctMUitto- 
rum.  Pmlfm, 

PiuftsuUr 
impios  ta- 
ttU40tJgnem 
V  guspkur. 


Inuemitt 
manuttua 
initHieot 
tuoa,  Ptai. 
<ai.> 


Di9petti£0S 
sicuipaUa 
afaeuvtnii, 
Ftali. 


saluitttaU' 
guru  cmli 
qui  conUm' 
plaiur 
^fcUra: 

Dux 

fcnmina 

faetum. 


THE  TRIVMPHS  OF  TROPHES 

Noughtie  Nabals  corse  on  Dauid  neuer  fell : 

AchUophels  cruel  counsaile  did  no  good  150 

to  Absalon,  when  Absalon  did  rebell : 

Semei  could  doe  no  harme,  when  Semei  God  withstood. 

Elizeus  bones  could  raise  the  Dead  from  graue, 
Peters  shadowe  passing  by,  made  sicke  men  hole. 

Paules  handkercher  from  death,  did  many  saue,  155 

thus  vertue  deales  to  vertuous  men  her  dole 

But  Bulles  of  Rome  and  Beares  of  Hisfaine  did  more, 
they  murther  whom  they  will,  and  pardon  whom  they  list, 

Kings  from  crownes  depriue,  and  Kings  to  crownes  restore, 
thus  to  shadow  Casars  state,  the  Pope  hath  euer  wisht         160 

If  DcUhan  and  Abiron  sanke  for  treason  wrought, 

if  Assur,  Pkaro  so  enuied  Dauids  seat, 
If  Greekes  lewes  and  Gentiles  Ituobs  starre  haue  sought, 

these  Gorgons  would  Elisa  faine  from  Crowne  defeat. 

When  Perseus  sword  shall  snatch  of  Medusas  head, 
when  Mercuries  whistle  lulls  Argos  eies  to  sleep, 

When  Phoebus  faulchion  kils  monstrous  Python  dead^ 
then  shall  Eliza  make  Romane  Cerberus  creepe. 

Though  still  you  beare  the  Oliue  branch  in  breast, 
yet  some  wish  you  Hermes  Harpen  in  your  hand,  170 

Though  you  the  Lambe  imbrace,  the  Lion  is  your  beast, 
for  mercie  must  with  iustice  ioine  to  rule  a  land. 

Cleanse  Augeus  hall,  destroy  Stymphalides  seede, 

your  souldiers  readie  preast,  do  stand  in  aray. 
Thunders,  hailstones,  brimstone,  fier,  your  foes  shal  speede       175 

Angels  armd,  hosts  from  hie,  God  himself  will  say. 

To  Cuma  trudge,  of  Sibill  knowe  your  fates, 

to  Ammons  priests,  at  Ammons  temple  scrape. 
To  Delpkos  post,  call  and  knock  at  Phoebus  gates^ 

to  knowe  of  Phcebus  how  traitors  best  may  scape.  180 

No  lewell,  Gemme,  no  goulde  to  giue  I  had, 

no  Indian  stones,  no  Persean  gaze  in  hand. 
No  pearles  from  Pactolus  to  a  Prince,  yet  glad, 

these  happie  Halcions  dales  to  see  in  Britaine  land. 


165 

iSu/A 
197  0.  I 


«4-5 


160  Cesar  states  ^ 
factum  Q 


FINIS  q\  L.  L. 

167  Pbsebus  Q         170  i,e,  &fwfjr  (act.)        i8a  marg. 


POEMS 


(DOUBTFUL) 


List  of  Sources 

WHENCE    THE    POEMS    ARE    TAKEN. 

AfSS. 

HarUian  6910:  Nos.  2-5,  22,  54,  64. 
Egerton  923 :  No.  59. 
Additional  15,227 :  Nos.  68-73. 

n         15,232:  No.  20. 

„         22,601 :  Nos.  7-12,  16,  28,  57-8. 
Rawlinson  {Poetical)  85  :  Nos.  i,  65. 

„  „        148:  Nos.  17, 60-3. 

Anthologies. 

A  Handejull  of  Pleasant  Delites^  1584:  Nos.  18-9. 
A  Banquet  of  Daintie  Conceits^     1588 :  Nos.  13-5. 
The  Phoenix  Nest      .        .        .     1593:  Nos.  6,  23,  29-36. 
Englands  Helicon     .        .        .     1600 :  Nos.  38-40. 
A  Poetical  Rapsody  .        .        .     1602 :  Nos.  41*"*. 

Song-Books. 

William  Byrd's  Psalmes^  Sonets^  ^  songs         .  1588:  No.  25. 

„  „  Songs  of  sundrie  natures  .        .  1589:  Nos.  26-7. 

John  Dowland's  First  Booke  of  Songes  or  Ayres,  1597:  Nos. 37, 55-6. 

„  n  Second  Booke     „        „        „        1600:  Nos.  24, 42-3. 

„  „  Third  and  Lxut  Booke         „        1603:  No.  44. 

Thom^is  Motley's  Pirst  Boohe  of  Balletis      •        .  1600:  No.  21. 

Robert  Jones*  First  Booke  of  Songes  &*  Ayres,  1600 :  Nos.  45--J2, 

„  „  Muses  Cardinfor  Delights       .  1610 :  No.  53. 


BONU    III 


Ff 


POEMS 

(TX)UBTFUL) 

INTRODUCTION. 

It  must  have  occurred  to  many  students  of  the  songs  printed  in 
Blount's  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies— son^y  every  one  of  which,  and   nine 
besides,  are  announced,  though  not  given  in  the  quarto  texts ;  while  all 
together  present  a  general  resemblance,  exhibiting  only  two  or  three 
alternative  manners,  and  a  great  similarity  of  metrical  forms,  a  large 
proportion  being  dialogue-songs  closely  connected  by  their  contents  with 
the  plot  and  personages  of  the  plays  —it  must,  I  say,  have  occurred  to 
Lylyprob-    the  readers  of  these  songs,  the  Lylian  authorship  of  which  I  see  no 
ahly  among  sufficient  reason  to  question,  that  so  practised  a  song-writer  probably 
of  anon.        ^®^^  much  other  lyrical  work,  which  either  has  never  yet  found  its  way 
verse,  into  print,  or  else  has  appeare  d  anonymously.  A  certain  proportion  of  such, 

confirming  his  title  to  the  songs  in  the  plays,  I  am  now  for  the  first  time 
presenting  as  Lyly's,  in  the  various  Entertainments  which  I  have  shown 
to  be  his :  but  there  are  other  possible  repositories,  to  which  the  reader's 
thoughts  will  naturally  turn,  in  the  shape  of  the  MS.  collections,  the 
Music-Books,  and  the  successive  Anthologies  published  during  £lizabeth*s 
reign.  In  the  MSS.  poems  are  often  variously,  and  generally  uncertainly, 
assigned :  in  the  Music- Books  the  names  of  the  authors  of  the  words  are 
hardly  ever  given,  partly  because  the  composer  was  pre-occupied  with 
his  own  art,  partly  owing  to  the  modesty  of  the  authors  or  their  fashion- 
able reluctance  to  appear  in  public  as  poets  ^ :  in  the  Anthologies,  while 
much  work  is  signed,  much  is  anonymous,  appearing  either  without 

^  Puttenham  writes  in  1589 :  <  Now  also  of  such  among  the  Nobilitie  or  gentrie 
as  be  very  well  seene  in  many  laudable  sciences,  and  especially  in  making  or 
Poesie,  it  is  so  come  to  passe  that  they  haue  no  courage  to  write  and  if  they  haue, 
yet  are  they  loath  to  be  a  knowen  of  their  skill.  So  as  I  know  very  many  notable 
Gentlemen  in  the  Court  that  haue  written  commendably  and  suppressed  it  agayne, 
or  els  snffred  it  to  be  publisht  without  their  owne  names  to  it:  as  if  it  were 
a  discredit  for  a  Gentleman,  to  seeme  learned,  and  to  shew  himself  amorous  of  any 
good  Art.*  Arte  of  Poesie,  Bk.  i.  p.  37,  ed.  Arber,  who  quotes  the  passage  in  his 
ed.  of  TottelVs  Miscellany,  p.  iii.  So  too  Robert  Jones  in  the  address  to  the  Reader 
prefixed  to  his  First  Booke  ofSonges  C?*  Ayres,  1600,  says :  *  I  was  not  vnwilUng  to 
embrace  the  conceits  of  such  gentlemen  as  were  earnest  to  haue  me  apparel  these 
ditties  for  them ;  which  though  they  intended  for  their  priuate  recreation,  neuer 
meaning  that  they  should  come  into  the  light,  yet  were  content  vpon  intreaty  *  to 
authorize  their  publication,  but  without  their  names :  and  again,  'seeing  neither  my 
cold  ayres,  nor  their  idle  ditties  (as  they  will  needes  haue  me  call  them)  haue 
hitherto  been  sounded  in  the  eares  of  manie,'  &c. 


INTRODUCTION  435 

subscription  or  else  with  various  signatures  such  as  *  Ignoto,' '  Incerto,' 
'  Anonimus/  and  a  large  proportion  is  subscribed  with  initials  merely ; 
while  the  prefatory  remarks  of  the  editors,  or  the  changes  made  in 
subsequent  editions,  cast  some  doubt  upon  the  correctness  of  their 
attributions  \ ,  The  complexity  of  the  question  is  not  lessened  by  the 
g^reat  similarity  of  manner  which  much  of  this  work  presents  to  the 
modern  reader,  a  similarity  due  to  the  writers*  working  upon  the  same 
models  and  to  their  habit  of  free  exchange  of  each  others'  verses :  nor  is 
the  attempt  to  distinguish  very  inviting  to  one  who,  like  myself,  feels   Medioiriiy 
the    bulk  of  this  Elizabethan    unsigned  verse  as  dull,  artificial   and  ^'-*'^ 
mechanical  in  the  last  degree.     Did  it  often  exhibit  the  qualities  it  versf!' 
sometimes  reveals — were  there  anything  like  a  plenitude  of  the  spirit 
shown  in  one  or  two  of  the  pieces  commonly  ascribed  to  Raleigh,  such 
as  *  The  Lie ' '  or  *  Now  what  is  loue,  I  praie  thee  tell,*  of  the  beauty 
of  *Weep  ye  no  more,  sad  fountains,'  in  Dowland*s  Third  and  Last 
Booke  of  Songs  or  Aires ^  1603,  or  of  the  style  apparent  in  *  I  saw  my 
Lady  weep '  in  his  Second  Booke y  1600  (given  below,  p.  471) — the  task  of 
selection  and  distinction,  if  not  easier,  would  at  least  be  more  interesting. 
But,  me  scilicet  iudice,  it  does  not    On  the  contrary  the  bulk  of  it 
impresses  me  as  joumeywork,  undertaken  far  more  in  obedience  to 
a  fashion  than  to  any  strong  emotional  impulse  or  even  to  delight  in 
the  exercise  of  the  poetic  craft ;  work  put  forth  by  men  who  were  fighters, 
politicians,  or  amorists  first,  and  poets  only  incidentally  or  because  they 
believed  the  making  of  verse  to  be  the  gallant,  the  accomplished,  or  the 
gentlemanly  thing  to  do ;  work  rarely  touched  and  consecrated  by  the 
inexplicable,  imperishable  breath,  and  whose  average  standard,  whether 
of  inspiration  or  technique,  is  in  my  judgement  far  surpassed  by  the 
average  of  work  offered  in  our  day  to  an  entirely  indifferent  public,  or 
withheld  in  despair  of  any  genuine  access  to  it  *.    I  am  glad  to  note  that 
even  so  ardent  an   Elizabethan  as  Mr.  A.  H.  Bullen,  without  whose 
accurate  and    invaluable  labours  m   this   field  the  task   I   have  here 
attempted  would  have  been  much  more  difficult,  is  able  to  recognize 

'  For  instance,  Nicholas  Ling,  who  seems  at  least  to  have  shared  with  '  A.  B.'  in 
collecting  the  materials  for  Englands  Helicon,  1600,  though  he  states  in  his 
Epistle  to  the  Reader  that  no  name  has  been  afiized  to  any  poem  without  the 
authority  of  *some  especial  copy,'  yet  evidently  feels  that  the  attribution  may 
sometimes  be  questionable,  and  anticipates  complaints,  from  some  that  their  work 
has  been  given  to  another,  from  others  that  he  has  violated  an  anonjrmity  they 
¥rished  preserved.  In  one  or  two  cases  in  his  volume  '  Ignoto*  printed  on  a  slip 
has  been  pasted  in  so  as  to  He  over  previously  printed  initials :  while  among  the 
larjre  number  of  poems  attributed  in  Darison's  Poetical  Rapsody^  1603,  to  *  Anomos ' 
or  '  Anonimos '  (identified  by  Sir  H.  Nicholas  (i8a6),  or  by  Ritson  earlier,  with  the 
*  A.  W.'  of  Francis  Darison*s  own  list  in  Harl.  MS.  aSo,  ft.  ioa-6),  are  four  from 
which  the  signature  is  withdrawn  in  later  editions. 

'  In  KawL  MS.  Poet.  17a,  f.  la,  it  is  headed  *  D'.  Latworthe  lye  to  all  esutcs.* 
'  Publication  which,  however  coBtly,  cannot  ensure  a  pretty  general  exhibition 
for  sale,  is  no  real  publication. 

Ff  a 


teristics 


436  POEMS 

that  most  of  the  work  in  The  Phcenix  Nest^  1593)  for  example,  is  but 
poor  stuff*. 
V:    {^^  charac'       Now  to  this  large  body  of  mediocre  and  discreetly  anonymous  verse 

I  believe  our  author  was  a  considerable  contributor,  a  supposition 
rendered  probable  by  the  general  marks  which  it  exhibits.  Among  the 
most  prominent  of  these  are 

(i)  the  continual  strain  after  ingenious  love-conceits,  the  Petrarcan 
manner  naturalized  by  Wyatt  and  Surrey. 

(2)  the  constant  habit  of  buttressing  or  illustrating  an  argument  by 
appeal  to  natural  phenomena,  real  or  supposed  ;  an  appeal  that  often 
leaves  the  reader  with  a  feeling  that  the  same  illustration  would  have 
served  as  well  to  maintain  the  opposite,  and  actually  invited  replies  in 
the  same  vein,  which  have  in  some  cases  survived:  e.g.  Nos.  11,  15,  18, 

41  *-',  53,  54. 

(3)  a  proverbial  and  gnomic  tendency,  often  verging  on  platitude: 
e.g.  Nos.  7,  15-18,  54,  &C. 

(4)  the  use  of  antithesis. 

(5)  the  habit  of  summing  up  in  a  final  couplet  the  different  parts, 
actions,  or  feelings  touched  on  in  the  preceding  lines:  e.g.  Nos.  30,  31, 

43,  50,  63. 

(6)  the' inartistic  constructive  trick  of  using  the  last  word  or  words  of 
one  stanza  or  line  as  the  starting-point  of  the  next :  e.  g.  the  song  about 
the  Phcenix  in  Cawdray,  voL  i.  p.  426 ;  No.  36  st.  4,  and,  in  part,  Nos.  31, 
37~-a  method  which,  though  perhaps  suggested  by  the  set  French  forms 
of  the  rondeau,  villanelle,  &c.,  seems,  when  used  apart  from  them,  to 
negative  a  proper  unity  and  preconception,  and  prompts  the  offer  to 
*  rhyme  you  so  eight  years  together'.' 

(7)  the  sometimes  tame  finish,  as  though  the  poet  were  careless,  or 
unable,  to  conceal  his  flagging  inspiration  :  e.  g.  Nos.  6,  16,  25,  40^  45, 
51,  58. 

(8)  the  occasional  accommodation  of  grammar  to  the  exigencies  of 
rhyme  and  metre,  a  defect  not  always  explicable  by  altered  grammatical 
rule:  e.g.  Nos.  8  L  30, 15  st.  10  1.  26,  59  st.  5  1.  11.  Cf.  the  similar  use  of 
an  inexact  word  for  the  sake  of  rhyme:  e.g.  p.  454  1.  26  'pretence,' 
p.  458  1.  42  *  surmise,*  p.  476  1.  37  *  all  the  rest,*  p.  478  11.  7-8,  No.  48 
St.  I  *  prolong.* 

^  He  abftodoDed  the  idea  of  reprinting  that  anthology,  contenting  himself  with 
reprodudng  eight  aoonymons  pieces,  three  of  which,  '  Those  eies  which  set  my 
fancie  on  a  fire,'  *  A  Coonterlone/  and  *  The  Description  of  lealoosie/  are  given 
below,  pp.  474,  476-7,  and  saying  '  It  will  be  found  that  there  it  not  much  spicery 
left  in  the  Nest  when  we  have  rifled  it  of  the  poems  that  appear  in  Englands  Htlicon 
and  in  the  following  pages.*    Lyrics  frcm  the  Romances ^  p.  zxriii. 

*  In  looking  through  my  selection  I  find  the  instances  rarer  and  more  frag- 
mentary  than  I  thought ;  but  this  method  of  obtruding  rather  than  concealing  the 
incidental  suggesdons  that  arise  in  course  of  composition,  is  a  distinct  note  in  the 
vene  of  the  period. 


INTRODUCTION  437 

Of  the  first  four  of  these  methods,  as  will  readily  be  acknowledged,  are  those 
Lyly  is  in  prose  the  recognized  high-priest.    No  one  who  has  studied  ^f  ^y^y- 
either  his  novels  or  plays  could  suppose  him  incapable  of  rivalling  the 
most  ingenious  sonneteer  who  ever  embroidered  on  the  eternal  theme 
of  love ;  antithesis  is  the  most  strongly-marked  of  his  formal  or  structural 
characteristics ;  while  natural  history  allusions,  and  proverbs,  are  his 
most  frequent  methods  of  adornment.    Even  of  the  last  three  I  fear 
instances  could  be  supplied  from  the  songs  in  the  Plays  or  the  Enter- 
tainments, though  those  in  the  former,  especially  the  earlier  ones,  are 
marked  by  a  freshness  and  vigour,  besides  an  ingenuity,  which  little  that 
I  print  here  or  in  the  Entertainments  (except  the  Phillida  and  Coridon 
song  of  Elvetham^  a  song  not  certainly  his)  can  boast.    Some  of  the 
Entertainment  songs,  especially  that  of  the  Phoenix  in  Cowdray^  and 
Apollo*s  'My  hart  and  tongue'  and  'Hearbes,  wordes  and  stones'  in 
Sudeley,  are  at  once  very  close  to  Lyly,  and  very  like  the  generality  of 
the  unsigned  verse  1  am  discussing.    Since  ascertaining  his  authorship 
of  those  shows,  therefore,  1  have  renewed  an  investigation  only  cursorily 
performed  before,  and  have  selected  from  the  various  sources  named  above 
the  following  body  of  mostly  unsigned  verse  to  which  1  think  he  has 
considerable  claims ;  though  there  is  not  much  of  it  that  I  print  with  any 
pleasure,  nor  very  many  about  which  I  entertain  no  personal  doubt,  among 
them  being  that  on  the  Bee,  which  1  had  decided  must  be  his,  before 
I  found  it  definitely  assigned  to  him  in  Rawlinson  MS,  PoeU  148 — the 
only  case  I  know,  outside  the  plays,  of  such  an  attribution.    The  body    Grounds    .  v 
selected  excludes  many  things  that  may  probably  be  his,  and  some  V^^oice, 
(among  these)  which  I  should  have  been  glad  to  print  as  his,  had  their 
poetical  merit  been  adequately  supported  in  other  ways.    Those  admitted   ^ 
have  been   chosen  on  grounds  of  strong  general   likeness  in  subject, 
sentiment  and  treatment,  of  special  likeness  in  phrase  or  diction,  and 
sometimes  of  similar  collocation  of  ideas  or  allusions  \  in  no  case,  of 
course,  merely  on  grounds  of  poetical  merit,— I  include  much  that  is  more 
likely  to  injure  than  assist  Lyly.    In  some  cases,  though  I  could  not 
perceive,  or  succeed  in  verifying,  any  special  likeness,  I  have  felt  the 
general  likeness  of  tone  so  strong  as  to  warrant  inclusion  in  a  '  Doubtful ' 
list,  especially  where  a  poem  adjoins  another  in  the  same  MS.  also  felt 
to  be  probably  Lyly's.    In  other  cases  the  special  likenesses,  which  carry 
a  widely  varying  force,  may  seem  to  be  merely  commonplaces  of  love 
or  life,  or  allusion  to  some  common  proverb ;  but  this,  while  it  weakens, 
does  not  destroy  the  argument.    When  a  writer  is  perpetually  harping 
on  a  particular  sentiment,  such  as  the  unreliability  of  women ;  when  he 
is  for  ever  citing  special  proverbs  like  that  about  smoke  and  fire,  or  using 
certain  imagery,  e.g.  baits  and  hooks,  nettles  and  roses,  storms  and 
anchors,  hearts  and  tongues,  double  or  single,  &c.,  the  circumstance 
^  E  g.  No.  18,  '  A  Warning  for  Wooers,'  stanzas  4,  8,  10. 


43^  POOCS 


die  reaider  «S  be 

bodj  of  Lyi/s 

laugelj  to  his  ova  faiMTiwicy  wiA  the 

viB  be  ioQud  to 

p.  494,  ^  »^^>n»i^/jr  ir«i«rT  PL  46s.  the  li 

pare  the  Bnmble  widiihe  CedariTBe '  p.  4^3^  or  *  Wbtfe 

mw»  pnMti*  flM>  hart  *  p^  .fgy^  and  flM>  ^nqajiMCT^  rftW^^  |p»<Sc  a  •Pyayraf^ 

probabifity  to  otben.  NevertbdesB  I  am  veil  aware  of  the  cstrem^ 
treadiefDcs  natnre  of  the  fromid  on  wincb  I  am  here  liTtifmc  Thoogii 
I  have  dooe  my  best  to  piechide  mwtakr,  a  chance  famgnrity  vkfa  aooie 
one  or  other  of  the  obfcnrcr  poets  of  this  piiiiifiL  tioie  msj  cnaUe 
a  reader  to  BCfative  dus  or  that  suggotiun,  I  tiost  that  an  efibrt 
undertakep  with  rdnrtancr  and  diffidence,  at  the  leiy  dose  cf  m  Jaborioos 
task^  because  I  felt  it  m^ht  possibly  be  demanded  on  the  score  of  com- 
pletenesSy  will  not  on  acooont  of  its  perhaps  disappointing^  or  sometimes 
uncoovincingy  results,  be  allowed  to  discredit  the  other  pwiiims  of  my 
work ;  and  that  the  reader  wiU  be  able  to  feel  that  I  hate,  in  this  section, 
added  something  to  inxr  definite  knowledge  of  the  author,  though  I  may 
have  somewhat  lowered  the  repotatioo  of  the  poeL 
Slimes,  I  cannot  pcetend  that  my  search  has  been  crhansrive :  though,  so  f^ 

as  the  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum  are  oonoemed,  I  shonld  hardly 
expect  a  later  investigator  to  add  much  to  my  list  that  had  not  already 
passed  under  my  review ;  while  I  believe  I  have  also  gleaned  aO  that  the 
Rcmlinson  MSS.  (Poetical)  at  the  Bodleian  have  to  yidd*  Those  which 
I  deem  most  worth  attention,  and  to  which  1  have  given  the  nxist 
thorough  scrutiny,  are  Harleian  MS.  6910,  Addiitotud  MSS.  IS>S32, 
22,6otf  and  Rawlinson  MSS,  85,  148,  172.  I  have  also  gone  through 
all  the  printed  Elizabethan  Anthologies,  most  of  the  Music-Books  before 
l6lOf  and  some  modem  collections  of  ancient  work  *.    I  am  satisfied  that 

>  K.|;.  d.  No.  10  1.  17  with  Euph,  i.  225  1.  31  'I  force  not  Philaatns  his  feiy/ 
ifid  il.  04  11'  33-4  'I  icMXt  not  thy  force,  1  force  not  thj  friendship' :  aad  Nol  51 
it.  a  If.  37-8  with  Euph,  i.  350  IL  8-10  'Thinke  . .  .  that  Uiena,  when  she 
ipeaketh  lytce  •  man  deoiseth  most  mischiefe,  y*  women  when  they  be  moat  plcasnoat, 
pretend  mott  trecherie.' 

"  The  chief  MSS.  which  I  have  examined  on  this  matter  of  anooymoos  poems, 
iollowinK  the  guidance  of  the  descriptive  Catalogues  or  the  reff.  of  critiGS»  are 
HarUian  MSS.}fil,  1127,4064,  6910.  6^17,  731a,  7332;  Lansdomm  MS.  740; 
iigirtoH  MSS,  923,  2230;  AdditioruU  MSS,  5956,  I5,»'7»  »5."8,  15,225,  15,226, 
i«.a'7»  «5»*3»»  '5»«33i  «i,433.  aa,6oi,  22,602,  22,603,  25,707,  28,101,  33;963; 
KawiiHion  MSS,  Pat,  56.  66,  85,  92,  108,  112,  120^  148,  153,  160,  171,  172, 
1 80,  212.  The  Dotui  and  MalofU  MSS,,  as  sommarized  in  Mr.  Madan's  Caita- 
luffue,  promise  nothing. 

^  Out  uf  a  thousand  or 'possibly  doable  that  number  of  poems  imder  renew, 
I  Mpied  some  two  hundred,  from  wliich  my  selection  has  been  made. 


INTRODUCTION  439 

nothing  I  here  present  has  been  claimed  for  Sidney,  Greville,  Dyer, 
Breton,  Oxford,  Essex ^  Raleigh',  or  Spenser.  What  I  select  forms, 
I  think,  a  body  of  fairly  homogeneous,  though  seldom  more  than 
mediocre,  verse.  It  should  be  remembered  that  there  is  great  inequality  Lyly 
of  merit  among  the  songs  in  the  Plays,  some  of  which  are  almost  Prosateur 
a  disgrace  to  the  author  of  *  Cupid  and  my  Campaspe.'  It  is  clear  that  ^^  " 
Lyly,  while  capable  of  the  exquisite,  could  descend  to  the  slipshod, 
though  we  might  have  expected  better  things  from  one  of  his  evident 
artistic  sense.  I  believe  not  only  that  with  him,  as  with  a  famous  modem 
Euphuist,  John  Ruskin,  fluency  and  fullness  of  suggestion  made  him 
impatient  of  the  delay  and  constraint  of  versification ;  but  also,  what  could 
never  be  said  of  Ruskin,  that  his  mind  was  strictly  of  a  prosaic  cast*  His 
thought  moved  freely,  but  on  the  plain,  never  upon  the  peaks.  The 
praise  due  to  the  very  best  of  his  songs  is  that  of  grace  and  daintiness 
whether  of  fancy  or  execution,  of  prettiness  and  ingenuity,  and  of  fresh- 
ness ;  never,  I  think,  of  power,  awe,  passion,  or  other  than  an  earthly 
beauty.  And  he  seems  to  have  been  aware  of  the  inconstant  and  qualified 
nature  of  his  impulse,  and  to  have  distrusted  himself  in  this  field.  He 
describes  himself  in  Elvetham  as  '  modicum  poetam ' ;  he  does  not  print 
even  the  songs  in  the  (prose)  plays ;  his  Prologue  to  the  blank  verse  play. 
The  Womatiy  1593  (where  two  songs  are  allowed  to  appear  in  the  quarto), 
is  in  the  modest  tone  of  a  tyro ;  and  in  any  other  poems  he  may  have 
written  he  remains  anonymous.  Probably  he  had  imbibed,  from  early 
acquaintance  with  the  classics,  and  with  Sidney  and  Spenser  in  the 
Savoy,  too  high  a  respect  for  the  poetic  function  to  venture  on  it  rashly, 
or  to  obtrude  his  efforts. 

A  correct  chronological  arrangement  of  the  pieces  I  print  is  probably   Grouping 
unattainable.    The  dates  of  MSS.  are  too  vague  to  guide  us,  and  those  odopf^- 
on  the  title-pages  of  anthology  or  song-book  afford  only  a  downward 
limit.    1  have  followed  what  seemed  the  probable  order  of  production, 
qualifying  this  with  some  attempt  to  keep  together  poems  taken  from  the 
same  source  or  dealing  with  the  same  subject. 

I.  Nos.  1-15.  First  come  a  few  which  I  have  classed  as  'Early  Auto- 
biographical ' ;  beginning  with  a  set  of  hexameters  on  trees  recalling 
some  of  Lyly's  favourite  illustrations  and  written  probably  in  the  days 
of  Harvey's  Areopagus,  and  continuing  with  some  versification  of  special 
sentiments  in  Euphues^  generally  in  Chaucer's  seven-line  stanza  popu- 
larized by  Sackville,  which  made  way  later  for  that  formed  by  omission 
of  its  fifth  line.    The  last  three  of  this  group  are  taken  from  Anthony  prom 

Munday's  A  Banquet  of  Daintie  Conceits^  1588,  reprinted  from  a  unique  Munda^s 

^Banquet* 

»  Except  The  Bee, 

'^  Exceptions  are  to  be  found  in  'Praisd  be  Dianas  faire  and  hannlet  light' 
(No.  36),  *  Hey  downe  a  downe  did  Dian  sing '  (No.  38), '  Like  to  a  Hermite,  (Sec. 
(No.  23),  and  the  two  poems  after  Marlowe's  '  Come  Hue  with  me '  (Nos.  39,  4^). 


440 


POEMS 


Front  CI. 
Robinsoni 
•JJandc 
full: 


From 
W.  Byrd. 


From  'The 
Phanix 

Nest: 


copy  in  the  Harleian  Miscellany ^  vol.  ix.  Thomas  Park,  the  editor,  noted 
the  likeness  in  the  first  to  the  speeches  of  Polonius,  which  I  have  shown 
to  be  founded  on  Euphues  (vol.  i.  p.  165).  The  other  two  are  more 
doubtful :  their  tone  and  subject  are  quite  those  of  Euphues^  Part  I ;  but 
these  commonplaces  about  youth  and  age  and  the  fading  of  beauty  might 
be  perpetrated  by  any  young  writer,  e.  g.  Munday  liimsel£  Still  I  know 
none  to  whom  they  would  be  half  so  appropriate  as  to  Lyly.  If  his, 
I  should,  comparing  them  with  the  much  more  compact  prose  expression 
of  the  same  sentiments  in  Euphues,  suppose  them  to  precede  that  work  ; 
though  their  smooth  versification  argues  previous  practice  in  rhyming. 

U.  Nos.  i6-2a  Next  I  place  a  group  of  '  Early  Love- Poems,'  mainly 
of  rougher  and  poorer  verse,  but  exhibiting,  though  drawn  from  diflferent 
sources,  a  striking  similarity  of  tone  and  manner,  and  that  distinctly 
Lylian.  The  longest,  No.  16,  is  from  a  MS.  (Addit,  22,601)  which  has 
contributed  several  other  poems  in  my  selection,  though  generally  with 
less  certainty  than  this.  The  second  of  two  poems  in  the  same  uncommon 
metre  (Nos.  17,  18)  is  from  Clement  Robinson's  Handefull  of  Pleasant 
Delites,  1584,  and  extremely  euphuistic — a  mosaic  of  proverbs :  there  is 
another  of  that  metre  in  the  same  anthology,  ^  The  Lover,'  which  fails 
to  establish  a  claim  to  admission  ;  but  I  have  included,  with  some  doubts, 
'  A  Proper  Sonet,'  No.  19,  and  one,  No.  20  (from  another  MS.),  which 
resembles  in  tone  No.  10. 

m.  Nos.  21-4.  These  are  followed  by  four  songs  from  different  sources, 
inserted  rather  because  they  fit  the  place  of  some  that  are  missing  in  the 
plays  than  because  they  are  strikingly  like  Lyly,  though  they  may  be  his. 

rv.  Nos.  25-53.  Then  comes  by  far  the  largest  group,  *  Later  Love- 
Poems,'  mostly  of  much  better  verse  than  that  of  groups  I  and  II,  and 
containing  a  good  deal  of  which  Lyly  has  no  reason  to  be  ashamed.  This 
is  the  section  to  which  exception  may  most  easily  be  taken,  though 
of  course  its  contents  do  not  stand  or  fall  together.    It  includes 

{a)  three,  Nos.  25-7,  from  William  Byrd's  Song- Books  of  1588  and 
1589,  which  remind  me  of  Lyly's  phrases  and  ideas ;  and  a  fourth.  No.  28, 
strikingly  like  him,  from  Addit,  MS.  22,601 ; 

(b)  eight,  Nos.  29-36,  from  The  Phcenix  Nest  .  .  .  setfoorth  by  R.  S. 
of  the  Inner  Temple  Gentleman  .  .  .  1593,  from  which  I  took  two  others, 
Nos.  6, 23.  For  the  first  seven  of  these  eight,  I  can  allege  no  very  special 
likeness.  They  present  a  general  resemblance  both  to  each  other  amd  to 
Lyly ;  an  impression  that  will  be  strengthened  by  a  comparison  of  them 
with  the  three  in  Cowdray,  which  I  do  not  doubt  for  his.  I  acknowledge 
their  similarity  also  to  much  other  ideal  love-verse  written  about  this 
time :  they  show,  for  instance,  considerable  likeness  to  the  work  of  Lyly's 
friend,  Thomas  Watson.  But  three  other  poems  in  The  Phcmix  Nest 
appear  with  direct  attribution  to  Watson ;  and,  in  view  of  his  high  repute 
as  a  poet,  it  seems  more  likely  that  these,  if  his,  would  have  been  similarly 


INTRODUCTION  44 1 

assigned.  It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  in  1582  (Life,  p.  27)  Lyly  pro- 
mises to  communicate  to  Watson  certain  love-px)ems  written  by  himself, 
which  he  then  disclaims  all  intention  of  printing.  Even  if  these  were 
the  poor  verses  I  have  included  under  *  Early  Love- Poems/  yet  they  were 
probably  succeeded  by  later  and  more  practised  work ;  and  the  reluctance 
to  print,  felt  in  the  first  instance,  may  have  disappeared  in  the  interval, 
or  have  been  ignored  or  overruled  by  R.  S.  The  Phcmix  Nest,  at  any 
rate,  was,  with  the  exception  of  Munday's  Banquet  of  Daintie  Conceits^ 
1 588  (which  has  nothing  I  should  claim,  beyond  the  three  already  dealt 
with),  the  first  collection  since  Robinson's  in  which  they  could  appear ;  and 
the  inclusion  therein  of  the  dialogue  between  Constancy  and  Inconstancy 
(or  Liberty)  from  the  Quarrendon  Entertainment  of  the  preceding  year — 
~?  a  dialogue  suroly  Lyiy's,  and  not  known  to  have  existed  save  in  MS. 
—suggests  Lyly's  acquaintance  with  'R.  S.,'  and  makes  it  probable  that 
some  poems  in  the  Nest  are  also  his  ^ 

(c)  The  eighth  of  the  Nest  group,  No.  36,  *  Prausd  be  Dianas  fairc  and  Frotn 
harmles  light,*  together  with  the  next  poem  *  My  thoughts  are  wingde  with  'jj^^^"'!'^ 
hopes,'  &c.,  are  also  found  in  Efiglands  Helicon^  1600,  from  which  I  have 
included  (besides  the  five  which  found  their  way  into  that  collection  from 
the  Entertainments)  three  more,  Nos.  38-40 — *  Hey  downe  a  downe  did 
Dian  sing,'  and  the  two  suggested  by  Marlowe's  'Come  liue  with  me.'  The 
second  of  this  group  of  ^^^^  No.  37, '  My  thoughts,*  &c.,  was  assigned  by 
Francis  Davison,  in  a  private  list  of  the  Helicon  contents  (Harl,  MS.  280, 
ff.  99-101)  made,  no  doubt,  in  preparing  his  own  Rapsody^  to  the  '  Earle 
of  Cumberland,'  a  patron  I  think  of  Lyly's,  in  whose  literary  perform- 
ances I  rather  disbelieve  '•  Collier  wrongly  reported  Dowland  as  giving 
it  to  Greville ;  and  Grosart,  while  indicating  his  mistake,  included  it  in 
Greville's  Works^  ii.  132  as  'much  in  the  same  vein.'  I  think  the  likeness 
to  the  diction  of  Endimion  gives  Lyly  an  infinitely  better  claim.  All  the 
other  four,  together  with  *  Like  to  a  Hermite  poore,'  No.  23,  from  the  Nest^ 
have  been  claimed  for  Raleigh,  a  claim  supported  in  the  case  of  '  Praisd 
be  Dianas,*  &c.  by  the  initials  '  W.  R.'  affijDcd  to  the  first  line  in  Davi- 
son's MS.  list  above  referred  to.  Davison,  however,  may  have  had  no 
better  reason  than  the  signature  '  Ignoto '  attached  to  aU  four  in  Englands 
Helicon  '—a  signature  which,  though  sometimes  Raleigh's,  is  subscribed 

'  That  about  Apelles,  however  (the  last  bat  one — '  Sir  painter,  are  thy  colonn 
redie  set '),  though  reminiscent  of  Campaspe  in  its  4th  and  loth  stanzas,  is  not 
Lylian  enough  in  manner,  and  is  probably  by  some  one  else  familiiu:  with  the  play. 

'  See  vol.  i.  Biog.  App.  p.  384,  and  Notes  to  Ents.  p.  519. 

'  Yet  Davison  withholds  the  initials  from  the  other  three.— It  has  been 
alleged  in  regard  to  '  Praisd/  &c.,  and  *The  Nimphs  reply'  that  in  ed.  1600  the 
initials  '  S.  V7.  R.*  have  first  been  printed  on  the  page,  and  that  afterwards  a  slip 
with  '  Ignoto '  printed  on  it  has  been  attached  at  one  side  so  as  to  lie  over  and 
cover  the  initials.  This,  while  tme  of  other  poems  in  the  Helicon,  is,  in  the  cast 
of  the  Brit.  Mus.  copy  of  1600,  uncertain  as  regards  '  Praisd,*  &c.,  where  is 
neither  slip  nor  signature,  only  signs  of  some  erasure,  and  incorrect  as  regards 


442 


POEMS 


From  *'A 

Poetical 

Rapsody^ 


in  the  same  anthology  to  poems  satisfactorily  assigned  to  Barnfield,  Dyer, 
Greville,  and  Lodge.  Dr.  Hannah^  accepted  the  claim  for  Raleigh,  made 
in  the  seventeenth  century ,  of  *'  Like  to  a  Hermite  poore '  and  *  The  Nimphs 
reply ' ;  and  also,  but  doubtfully,  that  of  *  Praisd/  &c. ;  while  he  rejected '  Hey 
downe  a  downe '  and  the  other  Marlowe  imitation.  It  seems  to  me  that 
'  Praisd,*  &c.  is  redolent  of  Endimion^  presetiting  just  that  coadmixture 
of  physical  and  mythological  allegory  which  we  have  traced  in  that  play 
(above,  pp.  81-2)  and  which,  if  it  occurs  in  anything  like  the  same  degree 
in  any  other  Elizabethan  work,  has  entirely  escaped  my  notice.  Similarly 
the  language  of  ^  Like  to  a  Hermite  poore  *  is  sufficiently  near  that  of  En- 
dimion  to  suggest  Lyl/s  authorship,  though  the  strength  of  the  suggestion 
is  not  that  of  the  former  case.  '  Hey  downe  a  downe '  is  either  modeUed 
on,  or  model  of,  ^  Phoebes  Sonnet,'  printed  in  the  same  collection  from 
Lodge's  Rosalynde^  1590;  and  the  passages  cited  in  the  margin  from 
Euphuesy  about  an  earlier  age  when  love  had  not  yet  learned  dissimula- 
tion, conjoined  with  the  lectures  of  Diana  in  GcUlathea^  seem  to  give 
Lyly  a  prior  claim.  Izaak  Walton  gave  'The  Nimphs  reply'  to  Maud- 
lin's mother  to  sing,  with  commendations,  as  '  made  by  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  in  his  younger  days ' ;  but  said  nothing  of  the  other  imitation. 
Mr.  Bullen '  does  not  hold  either  proven  for  Raleigh's.  Both,  I  think, 
carry  suggestions  of  Lyly :  the  first,  of  his  habit  of  sermonizing  to  youth  ; 
the  second,  of  the  Entertainments  and  of  The  Wotnan^  in  which  he  was 
to  some  extent  Marlowe's  imitator— cf.  especially  Acts  iii  2.  167-70,  v. 
25-39,  96-109.  In  neither  is  the  likeness  to  his  manner  very  strong ; 
but  I  wish  to  suggest  his  claim,  which  is  perhaps  better  than  any  one 
else's.  I  have  felt  some  doubt  whether  the  similarly-signed  allegorical 
poem, '  In  Pescod  time/  is  not  Lyl/s ;  but  there  is  no  sufficient  likeness 
of  phrase  or  sentiment  to  justify  its  inclusion. 

(</)  There  remains  of  the  Anthologies',  Davison's  Poetical  Rapsody^ 
1602,  whence  two  poems,  the  Ode,  Of  Cynthia  and  Lottery^  to  which  Sir 
John  Davies  may  dispute  Lyly's  claim,  have  already  been  given  among 
the  Entertainments  (vol.  i.  4 14, 499-504).  Some  of  the '  A.W.'  poems  might 
on  mere  internal  g^unds  be  assigned  to  Lyly ;  but  it  is  extremely  un- 

the  Reply,  where  the  word  '  Ignoto '  is  printed  fairly  and  cleanly  on  the  original 
pa^e,  as  it  is  in  the  case  of  the  other  Marlowe  imitation  and  '  Hey  downe  a  downe.* 

^  Poems  of  Rcdeigh  and  Wotton^  1875,  pp.  xxx,  xxxi,  11,  ia>  77. 

•  Works  of  Marlowe^  1885,  vol.  iiL  p.  283. 

'  TottelVs  Miscellany,  1557,  is  much  too  early:  I  find  nothing  to  which  Lyly 
can  lay  claim  in  Edwardes  Parculyse  of  daynty  deuises^  ^57^*  i^or  in  A  gorgious 
Gallery  ofmllattt  Inuentions  by  T.P,  1578  :  The  Welspring  of  wit  tie  Conceit es 
.  . .  Out  of  Italian  by  IV.  Phist,  1584,  is  in  prose:  IVits  Commonwealth  [1597]  is 
a  mere  collection  of  citations  from  the  classics  and  the  Fathers :  Wits  Theater^ 
1599,  is  a  book  of  signed  quotations,  mostly  ancient,  in  which  Lyly's  name  does 
not  appear:  Belvedere  or  the  Garden  of  the  Mvses,  1600  (single  lines  and 
couplets  only),  does  not  include  Lyly  in  its  prefatory  list  of  authors:  and 
Engltmds  Parnassus ^  1600,  is  a  book  of  longer  signed  extracts,  wherein,  among 
the  few  anonymous  fragments,  is  nothing  of  his. 


INTRODUCTION  443 

likely  that  Davison  in  his  private  memorandum  of  those  poems  of  a  *  deere 
friend '  (HarL  MS.  280,  f.  102)  would  put  down  any  but  the  writer's  true 
initials  ;  and,  if  'Anonymous  Writer'  be  inadmissible  S  'Amicus  Watsoni* 
or  '  Alter  Watsonus  *  would  be  equally  so.  Nor  does  examination  of  the 
poems  here  subscribed '  Ignoto,'  or  unsubscribed,  suggest  more  than  a  pos- 
sibility that  Lyly  might  be  the  author  of '  An  Invectiver  against  Women ',' 
which  reminds  one  somewhat  of  Euphues'  '  Cooling  Card,'  and  of  '  A 
Counterloue,'  No.  33.  But  among  the  four  from  which  the  signature 
'  Anomos  *  is  withdrawn  in  all  editions  after  the  first,  is  one  (No.  41*)  so 
thoroughly  Lylian  that  1  feel  bound  to  include  it  It  purports  to  be  a 
reply  to  two  stanzas  subscribed  '  Incerto  *  in  the  first  edition,  but  assigned 
in  Rawit'nson  MS,  Poet,  148,  f.  50,  to  '  M'  Edward  Dier,'  beginning 

The  lowest  trees  have  tops ;  the  ant  her  gall ; 
The  fly  her  spleen ;  the  little  sparks  their  heat : 

and  it  is  enumerated  in  Davison*s  'A.  W.'  list  as  '  116.  Though  lowest 
trees  have  tops,  the  ant  her  galL  Answer.'  Though  in  printing  the 
Rafsody  itself  Davison  omits  the  first  stanza,  that  is  found  with  the 
other  four  in  Rawl,  MS,  Poet,  148,  L  53,  where  the  poem  appears  un- 
signed, but  headed  'The  aunswer  to  M':  Diers  ditie,  in  foL  50.'  My 
belief  is  that  these  ^"^^  stanzas,  the  refrain  of  which  embodies  an  opinion 
expressed  by  Alexander  in  Campaspe^  iL  2.  80  sqq.,  are  Lyly's  reply  to 
Dyer's  verses,  elicited  partly  by  the  fact  that  the  latter  were  practically 
a  cento  from  Euphues ' ;  and  that  Davison,  who  at  first  supposed  them  to 
be  by  '  A.  W.'  had  ascertained  his  error  before  the  second  edition  of  his 
Rapsodyy  1608.  I  am  the  more  inclined  to  regard  the  answer  as  Lyly*s, 
because  the  same  Kawlinson  MS.  contains,  not  only  the  Bee  with  defi- 
nite ascription  to  him,  but  several  others  included  here  on  various 
grounds  of  likeness  \  But  though  it  contains  the  initial  stanza,  its  text 
is  so  inferior  that  I  prefer  to  print  both  poems  from  the  first  edition 
of  the  Rapsody,  adding  the  stanza  in  a  footnote.  Another  of  the  four 
poems  from  which  the  signature  'Anomos'  is  withdrawn  after  the  first 
edition, '  It  chanct  of  late  a  Shepheards  swayne  V  tempts  me  with  an  air 
of  probability  for  subject  and  treatment ;  but,  beyond  the  proverb  of  the 
last  stanza,  I  see  no  special  Lylian  likeness  of  phrase  or  style. 
(e)  I  have  added  to  this  group  of '  Later  Love- Poems '  three  (Nos.  42-4)  From  John 

^  I  disbelieve  in  the  use  of '  anonymous  *  as  an  English  epithet  at  this  date. 

'  Vol.  ii.  123,  ed.  Ballen ;  who,  with  Hannah,  rejects  the  claim  for  Raleigh. 

'  Compare  with  the  two  lines  quoted  above  Euph,  ii.  90  L  33  '  I  but  Euphues, 
low  trees  haue  their  tops,  smal  sparkes  their  heat,  the  Flye  his  splene,  y*  Ant  hir 
gall,  Pbilautus  bis  affection,  which  b  neither  ruled  by  reason,  nor  led  by  appoint- 
ment.* See  too  the  other  references  given  in  the  margin.  Even  if  Dyer's  verses 
were  written  before  the  Second  Part  of  Euphues^  these  passages  show  that  they  bad 
attracted  Lyly's  notice,  and  might  elicit  a  reply. 

*  See  below,  pp.  444-5. 

'"  Vol.  i.  37,  ed.  BuUen.    Dr.  Hannah  rejected  the  claim  of  this  poem  for  Raleigh. 


444 


POEMS 


Dowlattd 
aitd  Robert 
Jofies, 


from  John  Dowland's  Song-Books  of  1600  and  1603,  and  as  many  as  ten 
(Nos.  45-52,  66-7)  from  Robert  Jones'  First  Booke  of  Songes  6r*  Ayres, 
1600,  with  one  from  his  Muses  Gardin  for  Delights^  1610.  One  or  two 
others  are  included  later  from  the  same  composers,  who  with  Byrd  (three, 
Nos.  25-7),  and  Morley  (one,  No.  21),  are  the  only  ones  laid  under  con- 
tribution. Though  I  have  hunted  through  many  other  music-books— of 
Morley,  Wilbye,  Weelkes,  N.  Yonge,  &c— it  seemed  to  me  unlikely  that 
Lyly*s  work  would  be  found  in  many  hands.  It  may  be  thought  I  have 
drawn  too  largely  on  the  single  book  of  Jones,  1600 ;  but  the  Lylian  im- 
pression of  these  pieces  is  to  me  very  strong.  In  none  of  these  music- 
books,  nor  anywhere  else,  have  I  come  upon  the  faintest  trace  of  any  of 
the  songs  printed  by  Blount :  nor,  let  me  add,  am  I  aware  of  any  mention 
of  Lyly  as  a  poet  pure  and  simple  in  any  contemporary  work. 

V.  Nos.  54-67.  There  remains  the  section  headed  *  Later  Autobio- 
g^phical,'  wherein  I  have  collected  a  number  of  pieces  which  seem  to 
lament,  no  coldness  or  treachery  of  some  mistress,  real  or  ideal,  but  the 
continual  thwarting  of  his  material  hopes.  The  superior  sincerity  of 
accent  is  obvious.  Doubtless  this  vein  of  bitter  complaint  might  be 
indulged  by  many  others  at  Court ;  but  the  pieces  I  choose  are  either 
extremely  Lylian,  e.  g.  Nos.  54,  58,  59,  or  else  are  recommended  by  their 
appearance  in  a  quarter  where  I  have  found  others  more  evidently  his. 
Perhaps  there  is  least  verbal  evidence  for  those  which  are  poetically  the 
best,  the  four  from  the  Song-Books,  Nos.  55-6,  66-7.  In  support  of  the 
last,  which  reminds  one  rather  of  Nash,  I  would  urge  the  marked  rhythm 
of  the  fifth  line  in  each  stanza,  repeated  in  the  fifth  lines  of  No.  59 
which  is  more  like  Lyly.  No.  65,  from  the  same  MS.  as  the  hexameters 
on  trees,  is  recommended  by  the  musical  imagery,  by  the  puns  in  stanza  3, 
and  by  Lyly*s  favourite  trick  of  exposing  fictions,  poetic  or  other  ^  The 
rest  are  taken  from  or  found  in  the  following  three  MSS.  on  which  I  have 
already  made  considerable  drafts. 

(l)  Rawlinson  MS.  Poetical^  148,  4<*,  114  leaves,  is  dated  in  Mr.  F. 
^a;<f/.  AfS,  Madan's  Catalogue  as  about  1600,  and  is  bound  with  and  following  on 
'  ^  '  a  printed  copy  of  Watson's  HeceUomfnithiay  1582.  It  is  all  written  in 
a  single  hand,  that  of  John  Lilliat,  a  clergyman  who,  one  might  conjec- 
ture from  some  details  he  gives  of  proceedings  at  Christ  Church  during 
a  royal  visit,  resided  at  or  near  Oxford,  and  who  signs  his  name,  generally 
but  not  always  in  Greek  characters,  or  prints  it  from  a  stamp,  all  over  the 
MS.  As  the  great  majority  of  the  poems  bear  his  signature,  we  may 
reasonably  infer  that  the  unsigned  ones  are  by  others ;  and  it  seems  to 


From 


'  Eupk,  L  195  drawbacks  of  wit,  ii.  114-9  love-charms.  Camp.  DiogeDes 
throogboat,  and  iiL  3  Jnpiter*s  character,  Saph.  ii.  3  Molus  on  valiancy,  GalL 
Alchemist  and  Astronomer,  Loves  Met.  ii.  i.  51-61  Nisa  on  poetic  accounts  of 
Love,  M.  Bomb,  i.  3.  90-110  Candins  and  Livia  on  parents*  affection,  Woman 
Gtinophiliis*  vein  throughout. 


INTRODUCTION  445 

me  probable  that  the  five  precedmg  the  Bee,  occupying  fT.  31  V.-32  v.,  are 
all  by  Lyly ;  though  as  the  two  first  of  these, '  Who  sees  y*  sunne  how 
soone  it  growes  obscure '  (5  stt.)>  and  a  sonnet '  Of  a  sealed  doue/  pre- 
sent no  special  resemblances,  1  only  copy  the  three  frag^xients  (Nos.  60-2) 
on  f.  32  v.^  Other  poems  in  my  selection  also  found  in  this  MS.  are  Nos. 
17  ^Of  lingeringe  Loue *  (f.  2),  50  'When  loue  on  time,'  &c.  (f.  59),  and  63 
'  Ouer  theis  brookes,*  &c.  (f.  46). 

(2)  Additional  MS.  22,601,  12"®,  107  leaves,  was  acquired  by  the  From 
Museum  at  Dr.  Bliss'  sale,  1858,  and  formerly  belonged  to  Andrews,  ^*^iJ^^^' 
a  Bristol  bookseller.    It  is  a  most  interesting  collection  of  poems,  balla  s,       ' 
satirical  pieces,  &c,  all  transcribed  in  one  very  legible  hand  about  1603. 

The  Percy  Society  printed  twenty-two  pieces  from  it  under  the  title  of 
Poetical  Miscellanies  in  vol.  xv  of  its  collection  of  Early  English  Poetry. 
I  have  already  claimed  the  fourth  of  these  (No.  28),  a  sonnet  said  to  be 
worked  on  a  sampler,  extremely  Lylian  in  thought  and  diction,  though  of 
more  pathos  than  he  usually  exhibits ;  four  others,  Nos.  7,  8,  10,  12,  alike 
in  their  praise  of  independence,  sincerity,  and  '  the  mean ' ;  and  the 
long  piece  of  poor  verse  (No.  16)  which  preaches  Sybilla's  lesson  of  bold 
wooing.  Three  of  them  are  in  octosyllabic  metre,  and  should  probably 
be  placed  before  1 580,  about  the  same  time  as  '  Of  lingeringe  Loue '  and 
'  A  Warning  for  Wooers.'  In  the  same  MS.,  f.  49,  are  given  the  mottoes 
for  the  Lots  of  the  Harefield  Entertainment  (vol.  i.  pp.  500-4). 

(3)  Harleian  MS,  6910  is  a  very  large  collection  (190  leaves)  of  poems  From 

all  copied  in  the  same  fine  small  hand ;  those  occupying  ff.  1-74  being  jfj*^^*  ^^' 
all  by  Spenser,  and  followed  in  the  MS.  by  'finis  1596,'  so  that  the  sue-  ^ 
ceeding  ones,  nearly  all  of  them  unsigned,  were  at  least  transcribed  after 
that  date '.  Its  contents,  which  are  of  every  shade  of  merit,  range  over 
the  whole  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  and  include  poems  in  the  old  fourteener, 
though  most  are  in  stanzas  of  six  or  seven  decasyllabic  lines,  e.  g.  there 
are  long  transcripts  from  Sackville's  Induction,  I  have  included  from 
this  MS.  seven  poems  as  possibly  by  our  author,  and  have  transcribed  from 
other  sources  Hwe  besides  the  Bee  (Nos.23, 35, 41, 43f  59, 65)  also  found  here. 

The  long  poem  on  the  Bee  claims  special  notice.     It  seems  to  have   The  Bee, 
enjoyed  a  contemporary  fame  equal  to  that  of  '  Nowe  what  is  loue  '  or  The 
Lie,  and  is  found  in  an  even  greater  number  of  MSS.,  of  which  the  list 
given  below'  is  probably  far  from  complete.     Its  vogue  maybe  partly 

'  Fol.  33,  which  would  have  coatained  the  first  four  stt.  of  The  Bee,  and  probably 
something  else  immediately  preceding  it,  is  lost. 

'  About  one  half  of  them  can  be  definitely  assigned.  I  should  like  to  see  this 
portion  of  the  MS.  fT.  74-190  edited  by  some  one  of  full  knowledge— and  ample 
fortune. 

*  Harl.  MS.  6910,  ff.  167-8  (14  stt.,  om.  5*^)  unsigned, 
liarl.  MS.  3137,  f.  58  (14  stt.,  om.  5^)  unsigned,  endorsed  'The  Bees  Songe.' 
Addit.  MS.  5956,  f.  35  (3  stt.  7,  10,  II,  with  two  odd  couplets)  unsigned. 
(Dowland  printed  stt.  1-3,  unsigned,  as  Na  18  of  his  Ihird  and  Last  Booke 
of  Son^  or  Aires,  1603.) 


446  POEMS 

attributed  to  its,  I  believe,  incorrect  ascription  to  the  Earl  of  Essex.     In 
several  MSS.,  notably  in  Harl.  MS.  6910  —almost  the  best — it  is  anony- 
mous.   Reading  it  there  first  I  felt  assured  it  must  be  Lyly*s ;  and  shortly 
afterwards  found  it  in   Rawl.  MS.  Poet   148  actually  subscribed  'q^ 
M*"  John  Lilly,'  in  a  hand  other  than  that  of  Lilliat,  but  still  contemporary. 
Then,  one  after  another,  I  came  upon  the  MSS.  with  the  Essex  ascription, 
cuhninating  in  the  Sloane  MS.  1303  with  a  particularity  (cf.  note,  below) 
that  compels  close  examination.    Park  in  his  edition  (1S06)  of  Walpole's 
Roycd  and  Noble  Authors^  ii.  107-14,  printed  it  as  by  Essex ;  and  Grosart, 
in  his  Fuller  Worthies  Miscellanies  (1872-6),  pp.  85-9.     I  submit  that  the 
contents  of  the  poem  are  inapplicable  to  Essex,  and  are  exactly  applicable 
to  Lyly,  whose  phrases  and  ideas,  besides,  the  poem  repeats.    It  laments 
under  a  thin  allegorical  veil  the  author's  lack  of  all  reward  for  his  service ; 
the  last  stanza  in  particular  speaks  of  his  having  been  sustained  by  false 
hopes  and  promises  for  ten  years,  and  specifies  money  as  the  object  of 
his  dreams  ;  while  the  third  and  fourth  stanxas  allude  to  the  Queen's 
rejection  with  rebuke  of  some  special  application  he  had  made  to  her. 
Now  Essex  came  to  Court  in  1585,  and  had  received  almost  continuous 
marks  of  royal  favour.    He  was  refused  a  command  in  1594 ;  but  even  in 
that  year  he  won  Elizabeth's  regard  by  securing  the  conviction  of  the 
physician  Lopez,  and  she  began  to  treat  him  with  a  separate  confidence 
that  aroused  a  natural  jealousy  in  the  Cecils.    The  poem's  complaint  of 
utter  neglect  is  not  such  as  Essex  could  reasonably  make,  either  in  1595 
(ten  years  after  coming  to  Court),  or  1598  ^  (the  date  given  by  the  Sloane 

Rawl.  MS.  Poet.  148,  flf.  34-5  (stt.  5-15  only— f.  33  missiDg),  signed  in  another 

hand  *  q«  M'.  lohn  UUy.' 
Addit  MS.  15,891,  flf.  344-5  (13  stt..  cm.  5*'*,  14*'*,  is*"*),  unsigned,  hot  follow- 

ing  letters  between  Essex  and  Egerton. 

Ashmole  MS.  J8i,  p.  132  \     *"^''  ^  '  Complaynt. 

Rawl.  MS.  Poet.  ii2»  flf.  q-io  (14  stt.,  cm.  5^**),  unsigned,  bat  forming  the  first 
of  two  poems  headed  '  Verses  or  English  Poemes  written  by  the  Lo :  the 
E:ofE:' 

Rawl.  MS.  Poet.  173,  flf.  13-4  (14  stt.,  om.  5*^),  unsigned,  headed  *  My  Lord  of 
Essex  his  Bee.* 

Collier's  MS.  (15  stt),  subscribed  'R.  Devereox.  Essex,*  headed  '  Hon!  soit  qny 
mal  y  pense.*    (Bibl.  Cat  ii.  iSq,  where  stt  1 1,  la  are  quoted.) 

Sloane  MS.  1303  (Tracts  relating  to  the  Earl  of  Essex),  flf.  71 -a  (15  stt),  sub- 
scribed '  Robert  Deuoreux  Elarle  of  Essex  and  Ewe,  Earle  Marshall  of 
Englande,'  headed  '  The  Earle  of  Essex  his  Buzze  w^^  he  made  vpon  some 
discontentment  he  receiued,  a  litle  before  his  ioumey  into  Ireland.  ASo 
Dfli  1598.' 

Egerton  MS.  933,  If.  5-7  (15  stt.),  unsigned,  headed  'A  Poem  made  on  Robt 
Deuorex  Earle  of  Essex  by  M*"  Henry  Cuflf  his  Chaplaine.' 

I  have  reported  all  variants  of  any  importance,  not  every  minute  difference.  The 
report  of  the  Tanner  and  Ashmole  MSS.  is  given  from  Grosart's  Fuller  Worthies 
Miscellanies^  vol.  iv.  85-91. 

^  By  no  straining  could  the  scene  in  the  Council  in  July,  when  Raleigh  repeated 
an  uncomplimentary  remark  of  Essex,  for  which  the  Queen  boxed  the  latter*s  ears, 


INTRODUCTION  447 

MS.) ;  nor  is  its  piteous  tone  at  all  consistent  with  his  pride  or  his  position 
at  any  time.  But  to  Lyiy's  position  and  fortunes  it  is  absolutely  applic- 
able, forming  a  most  natural  expression  of  his  reflections  on  the  rejection 
of  his  First  Petition,  presented  after  ten  years'  service,  i.e.  in  1598*.  It 
is  the  burthen  of  both  petitions  that  he  has  been  working  hard  and  has 
received  nothing.  Tobacco  is  specially  associated  with  Lyly  in  passages 
of  Nash  and  Ben  Jonson  (Life,  pp.  60-1) :  bees  furnish  probably  his  most 
frequent  image  in  Eupkues  and  elsewhere :  and  those  who  will  verify  the 
references  in  the  margin  will  find  many  special  likenesses.  In  view  of  the 
anonymity  in  regard  to  his  poems,  which  he  breaks  only  in  the  case  of 
The  Woman,  it  is  easy  to  understand  how  this  one,  copied  widely  perhaps 
from  some  collection  of  Oxford's,  might  come  to  be  associated  with  the 
figure  who  bulked  so  large  in  the  popular  mind  at  the  close  of  the  century. 
The  MSS.  which  assert  Essex's  authorship  are  very  feulty  in  text,  though 
perhaps  not  much,  if  at  all,  later  than  the  others.  The  Egerton  MS., 
which  alone  assigns  it  to  Henry  CufTe,  Essex's  secretary  or  chaplain,  is 
dated  in  the  Catalogue  'c.  1630-40.'  Cuffe  is  not  known  as  a  maker  of 
English  verse.  Though  I  disbelieve  in  its  ascription,  I  print  from  this 
MS.  as  furnishing,  though  late,  the  best  copy,  possessing  the  5th  stanza, 
which  Harl.  MS.  6910,  the  next  best  copy,  lacks. 

VI.  Nos.  68-73.  I  close  with  half  a  dozen  '  Epigrams  *  from  Addit, 
MS.  15,227. 

And  so  I  commend  to  the  critic  a  selection  which,  while  liable  to  the 
complaints  of  inclusion  or  omission  customarily  made  of  anthologies,  is 
deprived  by  its  \ery  nature  of  the  anthology's  special  attraction.  It 
would  have  been  far  safer  to  decline  the  task,  and  that  course  would  have 
saved  me  months  of  labour ;  but  I  believe  the  editor  of  a  later  day  will 
thank  me  for  having  supplied  him  with  some  basis  and  information  on 
which  to  work. 

be  made  to  fit  stanzas  3-4.  She  pardoned  him  in  October.  Earlier  in  the  year  she 
had  presented  him  with  ^7000  \Dict.  Nat,  Biog^, 

^  Cf.  St.  9  'Patience  (var.  Patient)  I  am  therefore  I  most  be  poore,'  and  ft.  15 
*  fiiue  yeares  twise  told  w^  promises  p'fame  |  my  hope  stnft  head  was  cast  into 
a  slnmber '  {cf.  marg.  reff.)  with  the  language  of  Letter  iii  in  Biog.  App.  vol.  L 
P*  39.^) '  ^  one  of  y*  Qneens  patients,  who  have  nothing  applied  thes  ten  yeres  to 
my  wantes  bat  promises.' 


448  POEMS 


I.  Early  Autobiographical:   i 575-1 580? 

1.  (From  Rawlinson  MS.  Poet,  85,  f.  22.) 

When  I  behoulde  the  trees  in  the  earthes  fkyre  lyuerye  clothed 
Ease  I  do  feele,  suche  ease  as  faulles  to  me  wholy  diseased 
For  that  I  fynde  in  them  parte  of  my  state  represented 
Lam«it-       La'^^^^i  showes  what  1  seek,  by  y«  Myrr  is  showde  how  I  seek  it 
inges  Olyue  poyntes  me  the  pryce  that  I  muste  aspyre  to  by  conquest        5 

peace  lone    Myrtle  makes  me  requeste,  my  requeste  is  vnsealde  by  a  Willowe 
2^JJ^  •        apruss  promisethe  healpe,  but  healp  y*  bringes  me  no  comfort 
(^Euph,\\.     Sweet  luniper  sayes  thus,  thoughe  1  bume,  yet  I  bum  in  a  sweet  fyre 
75 11*  33-^)  Ewe  dothe  make  me  thinke  what  kynd  of  bowe  the  boye  houldethe, 
Whiche  shootes  throughe  w^ut  any  noyse  and  deadlye  w^ut  smarte.  10 
Firr  tree  is  great  and  greene  fyxte  one  a  hye  hill  but  a  barren. 
Lyke  to  my  noble  thoughtes  styll  newe,  well  plaste,  to  me  fruteless. 
(Eupk,\.      Figg  that  yealdes  moste  pleasaunt  frute  his  shadow  is  hurtefulL 
333  L  30)     Thus  be  her  guifts  most  sweet  thus  most  dawnger  to  be  neere  her 
{Eupk,  i.      But  in  Palme  when  I  mark  howe  he  dothe  ryse  vnder  a  burthen     15 
?9^'  9»        And  maye  not  I  saye  than  get  vp  thoughe  grefes  be  so  wayghtye 
' '     '  ^^^   Pyne  is  a  maste  to  a  shipp,  to  my  shipp  shall  hope  for  a  mast  seme 
Pyne  is  hyghe,  hope  is  as  hyghe,  yet  be  my  hopes  budded. 
Elme  imbraste  by  a  Vine,  embracinge  fancye  reuiuethe. 
Popler  chaungethe  his  hewe,  from  a  rysinge  sun  to  a  settinge.  20 

Thus  to  my  sunn  do  I  yealde,  suche  lookes  her  beames  do  afford  me, 
Quid  aged  oke  cutt  doune  for  new  workes  semes  to  the  buildinge 
So  my  desy^s  by  feare  cut  downe  for  y«  frames  of  her  honor 
Palmes  do  reioyse  to  be  ioynde  w^^  y^  matche  of  a  male  to  a  femall 
And  shall  sensiue  thinges  be  so  sensless  as  to  resist  sense  25 

Ashe  makes  speare  w^^  sheilds  do  resist e,  hi'  force  no  repuls  takes 
Thus  be  my  thoughts  disperst  thus  thinkinge  nowrsest  a  thought  still 
But  to  the  Caedar  queen  of  woodes  when  I  lyft  my  betrayde  eys 
Than  do  I  shape  my  selfe  that  forme  w®**  raygnes  so  within  me 
And  thinke  ther  she  dothe  dwell  and  here  w^  pllaynts  I  do  vtte'       30 
{SaphAr,     When  that  noble  topp  dothe  nodd  I  beleiue  she  salutes  me 
3*  4r  19)       Than  kneelinge  often  thus  I  do  speake  to  her  image. 
Onlye  lewell,  all  onlye  lewell,  whiche  onlye  deserueste 

33  for]  by  MS. 


EARLY  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL 


449 


That  mens  heartes  be  thy  seat  and  endless  fame  be  y^  seruante 
O  descend  for  a  whill  from  this  great  hyghte  to  behoulde  me 
But  nought  else  do  behoulde  or  it  is  not  worthe  the  behouldinge 
Se  what  a  thought  is  wrought  by  thy  selfe !   and  since  I  am  alltred 
Thus  by  thy  werck  disdayne  not(e)  that  w*'*'  is  by  thy  selfe  done. 
In  meane  caues  oft  treasue'  abydes,  to  an  hostry  a  kinge  comes 
— And  so  behind  black  cloudes  full  oft  faye^  streams  do  ly  hidden. 

FINIS. 


5 


2.  (From  HarL  MS,  6910,  f.  97.) 

No  PLACE  commendes  the  man  vnworthie  praise. 
No  title  of  state  doth  stay  vp  vices  fall : 
No  wicked  wight  to  wo  can  make  delay es, 
No  loftie  lookes  preserue  the  proude  at  all 
No  brags  or  boast,  no  stature  high  and  tall, 
No  lusty  yought,  no  swearing,  stareing  stout, 
No  brauerie,  banding,  cogging,  cutting  out 

Then  what  availes  to  haue  a  Princly  place, 
A  name  of  honour  or  an  high  degree, 
To  come  by  kindred  of  a  noble  race  ? 
Except  wee  Princely,  worthie,  noble  be. 
The  fruites  declare  the  goodnes  of  the  tree. 
Doe  br( a  )gge  no  more,  of  birth  or  linage  than, 
fTor  vertue,  grace,  and  manners  make  the  man. 

3.  (From  HarL  MS,  6910,  L  loi  v.) 

How  can  he  rule  well  in  a  common  wealth, 
Which  knoweth  not  himselfe  in  rule  to  frame? 
How  should  he  rule  himselfe  in  ghostly  health 
Which  neuer  leam*d  one  lesson  for  the  same? 
If  such  catch  harme  their  parents  are  to  blame : 
ffor  needes  must  they  be  blinde,  and  blindly  led. 
Where  no  good  lesson  can  be  taught  or  read. 

Some  thinke  their  youth  discreete  and  wisely  taught, 
That  brag,  and  boast,  and  weare  their  fether  braue, 
Can  royst  and  rout,  both  lowre  and  looke  aloft. 
Can  sweare  and  stare,  and  call  their  fellowes  knaue, 
Can  pill  and  poll,  and  catch  before  they  craue. 
Can  carde  and  dice,  both  cog  and  foyste  at  fare, 
Play  on  vnthriftie,  till  their  purse  be  bare. 

Some  teach  their  youth  to  pipe,  to  sing  and  daunce, 
To  hauke,  to  hunt,  to  choose  and  kill  their  game. 


(^Eufh.  i. 

10   »7ol.  13, 
317  1.  ao> 


<N0.3l.3a; 
IVhtp 
^5    i.,i9> 


20 


{Euph.  L 
269,  376) 


25 


30   </^.> 


35 


BOND   III 


og 


450  POEMS 

To  winde  their  home,  and  with  their  horse  to  praunce. 

To  play  at  tennis,  set  the  lute  in  frame, 

Run  at  the  ring,  and  vse  such  other  game: 
(Eup/k.u  Which  feats  although  they  be  not  all  vnfit, 

377 ;  ii.  50  Yet  cannot  they  the  marke  of  vertue  hit.  5 

^oSus)  ffor  Noble  yought  there  is  nothing  so  meete 

As  learning  is,  to  knowe  the  good  from  ill: 
To  know  the  tongues,  and  perfectly  endyte. 
And  of  the  lawes  to  haue  a  perfect  skill, 

Thinges  to  reforme  as  right  and  iustice  will :  10 

(Tor  honnour  is  ordeyned  for  no  cause 
But  to  see  right  maintayned  by  the  lawes. 

4.  (From  Har/.  MS.  6910,  f.  1 10  v.) 

{Euph.L  What  liquor  first  the  earthen  pot  doth  take, 

265  1.  34)  i^  iceepeth  still  the  sauour  of  the  same. 

(^Theob.voX,  ffull  hard  it  is  a  Camocke  straight  to  make,  15 

L  ?\^^^  ^^  wainscot  fyne  with  crooked  logges  to  frame. 

Tis  hard  to  make  the  cruell  Tiger  tame. 
And  so  it  fares  with  those  haue  vices  caught: 
Naught  once  (they  say)  and  euer  after  naught. 

I  speake  no{t)  this  as  though  it  past  all  cure  20 

ffrom  vices  vile  to  vertue  to  retire: 

But  this  I  say,  if  vice  be  once  in  vre. 

The  more  you  shall  to  quite  your  selfe  require, 

The  more  you  plimge  yo*^  selfe  in  fulsome  mire, 

(i.e.Syrtes,  As  he  that  striues  in  soakte  quicke  sirts  of  sand,  25 

•i"^?*-^*'  Still  sinkes,  scarce  euer  comes  againe  to  land. 

189 1. 8> 

6.  (From  HarL  MS,  6910,  f,  164.) 

{Empk,  i.  O  loath  that  Loue  whose  fynall  ayme  is  Lust 

'4^  *N«»  Moth  of  the  mynde,  Eclipse  of  Reasons  light 

fEtSS^u  '^^  graue  of  Grace,  the  mole  of  Natures  Rust 

14a  11/19-  The  wracke  of  witt,  the  wronge  of  euery  wighL  30 

31,1891.3^  Iji  SuAe  an  euill,  whose  harmes  no  tonge  can  tell 

a5iU.7-«)  j^  ^jj  ^^  Line  is  death,  to  dye  is  HeU. 

e.  (Fiwn  The  Phcmix  Nest,  1593.) 

iRmtk.  L  The  brainsicke  race  that  wanton  youth  ensues, 

188,  IL  9-  Without  regard  to  grounded  wisdomes  lore, 

15  &c)  ^  xJtxtL  as  I  thinke  thereon,  renues  35 

The  frtsh  remembrance  of  an  ancient  sore : 

15  Cnnocke  MS.  16  crooked  logges  with  wainscot  fyne  MS. 


EARLY  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL 


451 


Reuoking  to  my  pensiue  thoughts  at  last, 
The  worlds  of  wickednes  that  I  haue  past. 

And  though  experience  bids  me  bite  on  bit, 

And  champe  the  bridle  of  a  bitter  smacke, 

Yet  costly  is  the  price  of  after  wit,  5 

Which  brings  so  cold  repentance  at  hir  backe: 
And  skill  that's  with  so  many  losses  bought, 
Men  say  is  little  better  worth  than  nought. 

And  yet  this  fruit,  I  must  confesse,  doth  growe 
Of  follies  scouige :  that  though  I  now  complaine  10 

Of  error  past,  yet  henceforth  I  may  knowe 
To  shun  the  whip  that  threats  the  like  againe: 
For  wise  men  though  they  smart  a  whil^,  had  leuer 
To  leame  experience  at  the  last,  than  neuer. 

7.  (From  Addit  MS.  22,601,  f.  55  V.) 

I  feare  not  death,  feare  is  more  paine 
then  death  it  selfe  to  courage  true: 
In  youth  who  dies  or  else  is  slaine 
paies  nature  but  a  debt  y^  due. 

Who  yongest  dies  he  doth  (but)  paye 

a  debt  (he  owes)  before  the  daye 

And  such  a  debte  longer  to  haue 
doth  nothinge  profite  men  at  all 
Death  is  a  debt  nature  doth  craue 
and  must  be  pay*d  by  great  &  small. 

I  loth  not  warres,  nor  longe  for  strife 

I  feare  not  death,  nor  hate  not  life. 

8.  (From  Addit.  MS.  22,601,  f.  56  r.) 

I  will  not  soare  aloft  the  skye 

With  Icarus  so  fismr  fro  ground 

Least  that  y*  Simn  my  winges  do  (fry) 

and  fallinge  downe  w^  him  be  dround 

The  middle  Region  will  I  keepe 

when  others  wake  secure  to  sleepe. 

And  as  high  flights  ile  not  attempt 

So  neither  will  I  fly  so  lowe 

to  be  a  marke  for  base  contempt  35 

to  shoote  and  hitt  me  with  his  Bowe. 

If  y^  he  striue  to  shoote  so  hie 

his  Bowe  about  his  eares  shall  flie* 

Gg  2 


(^Euph.  ii. 
26  L  22) 


15    {^EuphA, 
letter  to 
Enbnlns, 
and  No.  10) 


20 


25   <No.io 
end) 


<Cf.  No. 
10) 


30 


(^Euph,  ii. 

39  I.  33  ••  cf. 
with  this 
stanza 
No.  12) 

{GalL  V.  3. 
187  sqq. ; 
Lffves  Met, 

•  •  • 

111.  I. 

T3I-6) 


<Cf.  No.  8> 


(Eupk.  i. 

325I.  3I1 
ii.  94 11. 


<No.7  end) 


452  POEMS 

Lowe  shrubbs  y*  silly  beastes  do  cropp : 
high  trees  great  tempests  do  the  crack 
The  meane  growe(n)  tree  w^  slend(er)  topp 
is  free  from  beastes  &  tempests  wrack 
Neither  base  nor  treble  will  I  singe 
the  Meane  is  still  y®  sweetest  stringe. 

9.  (From  Addit.  MS.  22,601,  f.  56  r.) 

Councell  w®**  afterward  is  soughte 

is  like  vntimely  showres 
Distillinge  from  the  duskie  cloudes 

when  heate  hath  parcht  y«  flowres. 

10.  (From  Addit,  MS,  22,601,  £  60  r.) 

Soare  I  will  not,  in  flighte  the  grounde  ile  see 

The  careless  mind  scomes  fortunes  angrie  frowne, 

Either  life  or  death  indifferent  is  to  mee, 

Preferr  I  do  content  before  a  crowne: 

High  thoughts  I  clipp,  no  stoutenes  throwes  me  downe 

Euen  loftiest  lookes  in  small  regard  I  burie 

Not  feare  their  force,  nor  force  not  of  y«»'  furie. 

Riche  in  content,  my  Wealth  is  health  &  ease 
A  conscience  cleare  my  chiefe  &  sure  defence, 
-Disdaine  I  do  by  flatt'ringe  meanes  to  please 
For  by  deserts  I  will  not  giue  offence. 
Only  a  wronge  reuenge  shall  recompence : 
Rest  Muse,  I  feare  no  foe,  nor  frowe  on  frend 
Dispise  not  life,  nor  yet  I  dreade  not  end. 


5 


10 


15 


20 


U.  (From  Addit,  MS,  22,6oi,  f.  60  r.) 

If  all  the  Earthe  were  paper  white 
and  all  the  sea  were  incke 

Twere  not  inough  for  me  to  write 
as  my  poore  hart  do^^  thinke. 


25 


12.  (From  Addii,  MS,  22,6oi,  ff.  79  v.-8o  r.) 

The  lofty  trees  whose  brauches  make  sweete  shades 
Whose  armes  in  springe  are  richely  dighte  w^h  flow'* 
Without  y®  roote  their  glory  quickly  lades 
&  all  in  vaine  comes  pleasant  Aprill  show". 
No  loue  can  be  at  all  without  y*  hart 
nor  Musick  made  excep(t)  the  Base  beares  parte. 


30 


EARLY  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  453 

The  princely  tow"  whose  pride  exceedes  in  show 

if  ther  foundations  be  not  stronge  &  sownde 

Are  subiect  to  y*  smallest  windes  y*  blowe 

&  highest  toppes  are  brought  to  lowest  ground.  (Cf.  No.8 

No  fielde  is  sweete  Whe  all  is  scortchd  w**»  drowte  j   "^'S) 

nor  musick  good  when  so  y®  base  is  out. 

13.  (From  A.  Monday's  Banquet  of  Dointie  Conceits^  1588.) 

A  Dittie,  wherein  is  contained  divers  good  and  necessary  documents, 

which  beeing  embraced  and  followed  earnestly,  may  cause  a  man  to  shunne  (  Quarr. 

manie  evilles  and  mischaunces,  that  may  otherwise  fall  upon  him,  ere  he  ii  lllf '^^^ 
can  beware.                                                                                                     10 

This  Ditty  may  be  sung  to  the  high  '  Allemaigne  Measure ' ;  singing 
every  last  straine  twise  with  the  musicque. 

'  Softe  fire  makes  sweete  mault,'  they  say ; 

Few  words  well  plast  the  wise  will  way. 

Time  idle  spent,  in  trifles  vaine,  15 

Retumes  no  guerdon  for  thy  paine: 

But  time  well  spent,  doth  profite  bring, 

And  of  good  works  will  honour  spring. 

Bestow  thy  time  then  in  such  sort. 

That  vertue  may  thy  deedes  support :  20 

The  greater  profite  thou  shalt  see, 

And  better  fame  will  goe  of  thee. 

In  talke  be  sober,  wise,  and  sadde, 

Faire  to  thy  freend,  kind  to  the  badde  ; 

And  let  thy  words  so  placed  bee  25 

As  no  man  may  finde  fault  with  thee. 

Nor  meddle  not  in  any  case 

With  matters  which  thy  wittc  surpasse:  {EupAA. 

With  things  that  not  to  thee  pertaines,  195 1. 26) 

It  folly  were  to  beate  thy  braines ;  30 

For  sudden  blame  may  hap  to  thee, 

In  medling  unadvisedly. 

Take  heede,  in  any  wise,  I  say, 

What  things  thou  goest  about  to-day. 

That  thou  to-morrow  not  repent,  35 

And  with  thy  selfe  be  discontent 

Speake  not  such  words  to  others'  blame. 

As  afterward  may  tume  thee  shame. 

No.  13.  As  reprinted  in  *HarUian  Miscellany^*  vol,  ix.  /.  234,  ed.  Park 


454  POEMS 

To-day  thou  speakest,  and  doost  not  care, 
But  of  tomorrow  still  beware  : 
For  then  thou  canst  not  call  againe, 
{Euph.W.  What  lavishly  did  passe  thy  braine. 

3^  11»  3-5> 

Keepe  secrete  closely  in  thy  minde  5 

Things  that  thy  state  and  credite  binde ; 

Beware,  if  thou  doo  them  disclose, 

To  whom  and  where,  for  feare  of  foes : 
{EufhA.  Especially  of  him  take  heede 

a8i  11.  3a  Whose  trueth  thou  doost  not  know  in  deede«  10 

^^'^  For  hard  it  is  thy  freend  to  know 

From  him  that  is  a  flattering  foe : 

And  many  men  in  showe  are  kind. 

Yet  worse  then  serpents  in  their  mind. 

{EuphAx,  Be  not  too  hasty  in  thy  deedes ;  15 

31  1. 10)  Of  too  much  haste  oft  harme  proceedes. 

Be  sober,  mute;  take  good  advise, 

For  things  too  much  are  full  of  vice. 

With  moderation  rule  thee  so. 

As  thou  aside  no  way  maist  go:  20 

For  'haste  makes  waste,'  as  proofe  dooth  say, 
{Euph.  i.  And  little  said,  soone  mend  ye  may. 

279 11. 6-7 >  Forecast  what  after  may  befall; 

So  shalt  thou  not  be  rashe  at  all. 

Have  minde  still  of  thine  owne  offence,  25 

R^;ard  thy  faults  with  good  pretence: 

Seeke  not  a  moate  in  one  to  spie, 

First  pull  the  beame  out  of  thine  eye. 

And  find  no  fault  with  any  man, 

Except  amend  thy  selfe  thou  can:  30 

And  when  thy  faults  amended  be, 

The  good  that  others  see  in  thee, 

Will  leame  them  so  their  deedes  to  frame, 

As  they  may  likewise  scape  from  blame. 

{Euph,)i,  Of  no  man  give  thou  bad  report,  35 

3ill.aa-4>  Backbite  not  any  in  thy  sport: 

{^End,  i.  3.  For  words  doo  wound  as  deepe  as  swords, 

5^)  Which  many  use  in  jesting  boordes ; 

And  slaunder  is  a  hainous  hate, 

Which  dooth  nought  els  but  stirre  debate;  40 

And  twixt  good  freendes  makes  deadly  strife, 

To  hazard  one  another's  life : 


EARLY  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  455 

And  all  this  may  proceede  of  thee, 
Except  thou  wilt  advised  bee* 

Beare  freendly  with  thy  neighbours  fault, 

Remember  thou  thy  selfe  maist  halt. 

If  he  hath  ought  offended  thee,  5 

Forgive,  as  thou  the  like  wouldest  be: 

And  thinke,  if  thou  hast  gone  awrie, 

Thou  for  forgivenesse  must  apply: 

So  with  thy  neighbour's  faults  doo  beare, 

And  of  thine  owne  stand  still  in  feare.  10 

Pardon  as  thou  wouldest  pardoned  be. 

So  God  will  pardon  him  and  thee. 

Be  gentle  unto  every  wight,  {£uph,ii. 

Let  courtesie  be  thy  delight:  3111.6-25) 

Familiar  be  with  few,  I  say  ;  15 

For  sure  it  is  the  wisest  wale. 

Too  much  familiaritie 

May  bring  thy  sorrowes  suddainly: 

Therefore,  keepe  gentlenesse  in  mind; 

To  rich  and  poore  be  alwaies  kind :  20 

So  pride  shall  never  conquere  thee. 

Which  is  man's  cheefest  enemie. 

14.  (From  A.  Manda/t  Banquet  of  Daintie  Conceits^  1 588.) 

A  Dittie,  wherein  the  brevitie  of  man's  life  is  described,  how  soone  his 
pompe  vanisheth  away,  and  he  brought  to  his  latest  home. 

This  Ditty  may  be  sung  to  the  *  Venetian  AUemaigne.'  25  ^cf.  Euph, 

The  statelie  pine  whose  braonches  spreade  so  fairey  XlI^iq 

By  winde  or  weather  wasted  is  at  length;  308-11) 

The  sturdie  oake  that  dymeth  in  the  ayre. 
In  time  dooth  lose  his  beautie  and  his  strength ; 

The  fayrest  flower  that  florisht  as  to  dale,  30  (No.  15  st. 
To-morrow  seemeth  like  the  withered  hale.  5. 18  st. 


So  fares  it  with  the  present  state  of  man, 

Whose  showe  of  healthe  dooth  argue  manie  yeeres : 
But  as  his  life  is  likened  to  a  span. 
So  suddaine  sicknes  puUes  him  from  his  peeres;  35 

And  where  he  seemde  for  longer  time  to-daie, 
To-morrow  lies  he  as  a  lumpe  of  clay. 

No.  14.  As  reprinted  in  Effort,  Misc*  vol,  ix./.  238,  ed.  Park 


I0> 


MM^HKSi^iMi^^>fli 


4S6  POEMS 

The  infant  yong,  the  milk-white  aged  head, 

The  gallant  youth  that  braveth  with  the  best. 
We  see  with  earth  are  quickly  over-spreade, 
And  both  alike  brought  to  their  latest  rest : 
As  soone  to  market  commeth  to  be  solde,  5 

The  tender  lambe's  skin,  as  the  weather's  old. 

Death  is  not  partiall :  as  the  proverbe  saies, 

The  prince  and  peasant  both  with  him  are  one ; 
The  sweetest  face  that's  painted  now  a  daies, 
And  highest  head,  set  forth  with  pearle  and  stone,  10 

When  he  hath  brought  them  to  the  earthly  grave, 
Beare  no  more  reckoning  then  the  poorest  slave. 

The  wealthy  chuffe,  that  makes  his  gold  his  god, 

And  scrapes  and  scratches  all  the  mucke  he  may; 
And  with  the  world  dooth  play  at  even  and  od;  15 

When  Death  thinks  good  to  take  him  hence  away, 
Hath  no  more  ritches  in  his  winding-sheete, 
Then  the  poore  soule  that  sterved  in  the  streete. 

Unhappie  man !  that  runneth  on  thy  race. 

Not  minding  where  thy  erased  bones  must  rest:  20 

But  woe  to  thee  that  doost  forget  thy  place, 
Purchast  for  thee,  to  live  amongst  the  blest 
Spend  then  thy  life  in  such  a  good  regard. 
That  Christens  blessing  may  be  thy  reward  !  24 

15.  (From  A.  Manday*t  Banquet  of  DattUie  ConceiiSy  1588.) 

A  Glasse  for  all  Men  to  behold  themselves  in  ;  especially  such  proude 
and  prodigall-minded  Men,  and  such  delicate  and  daintie  Women,  who 
(Cfi  Euph.  building  on  the  pride  of  their  beautie  and  amiable  complexion,  thinke 
J»  PJ^'V '  scome  to  become  aged ;  and  that  their  sweete  faces  should  be  wrinckled, 
Sapho ;  and  ^^  \^^v[  youthfulnes  brought  into  subjection  by  age. 
No.  i^>  .pjjjg  j^j^jy  j^^y  ^  g^j^g  ^Q  ^jjg  i  £^j^  Qf  Oxenford's  Galliard.'         30 

{Euph.  i.  You  youthfull  heads,  whose  climing  mindes 

189 1.  ao>  £j^^  seeke  for  worldly  praise, 

Whose  yong  desires  doo  seeme  to  scome 

Olde  age*s  staied  waies. 
Beare  with  the  plaine-song  of  my  note,  3  c 

Which  is  so  plaine  in  deede. 
As  daintie  mindes  will  scant  endure 

So  harshe  a  tale  to  reade. 

No.  15.  As  rtprinied  in  '  HarL  Miscellany^  voL  ix.  pp.  246-8,  ed.  Park 


EARLY  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  457 

As  nature  hath  endued  your  shapes  {Euph.  i. 

With  exquisite  perfection  ;  202-3) 

And  gives  you  choyse  of  sweete  deb'ghts. 

Wherein  you  have  affection : 
When  time  hath  runne  his  course  in  you,  5 

The  selfe-same  nature  saies — 
That  all  these  daintie  toyes  must  die, 

Whereof  you  made  your  praise. 

Marke  how  the  yeere  in  course  doth  passe: 

Note  first  the  plesant  spring;  10 

The  earth  by  nature  then  affoordes 

Full  many  a  precious  thing : 
Of  fruits,  of  flowres,  of  wholsome  hearbes 

We  gather  as  we  please ; 
And  all  things  els  we  lacke  beside,  15 

Our  needfuU  wants  to  ease. 

And  likewise,  in  this  pleasant  time. 

We  take  delight  to  walke. 
To  run  and  play  at  barley-breake, 

And  in  our  gardens  talke;  20 

One  freend  an  other  dooth  invite, 

They  feast  and  make  good  cheere ; 
Both  rich  and  poore  doo  make  pastime. 

At  this  time  of  the  yeere. 

But  wreakfull  winter  drawing  on,  25  (Mar- 

Withdraweth  these  delights,  Mariitu, 

And  robbes  us  of  them,  one  by  one,  ^^ 

As  toyes  and  trifling  sights. 
The  scith  cuttes  downe  the  goodlie  grasse, 

That  grew  so  greene  to  day ;  30 

And  all  the  sweete  and  pleasant  flowers  (No.  14  st. 

Are  changed  then  to  hay.  ?Lv^^** 

The  trees,  that  bragged  in  their  leaves. 

The  bitter  blasts  doo  bight; 
And  chaunge  them  from  their  goodly  state  35 

To  olde  and  withered  plight: 
And  they  that  flocked  to  the  feeldes. 

When  summer  was  so  brave, 
Nowe  closelie  creepe  about  the  fire 

For  winter  warmth  will  have.  40 

Compare  we  now  the  yeerely  chaunge, 
With  man's  £4>pointed  race, 


10) 


4S8  POEMS 

(No.  a8  Who  in  the  Aprill  of  his  age 

u  25,  &c.>  Greene  humours  dooth  embrace : 

And  as  Maie-flowers  glad  the  eye, 

So  in  his  youthfiill  time, 
Man  compasseth  a  world  of  joyes,  5 

Whereto  his  thoughts  doo  dime. 

Behold,  likewise,  dame  Beautie's  gyrles. 

Whose  daintie  mindes  are  such, 
As  not  the  sun-shine,  nor  the  wind, 
Must  their  faire  faces  touch :  lo 

i^Euph.  Theyr  maskes,  their  fannes,  and  all  the  toyes, 

Jj  *55  That  wanton  heads  can  crave, 

•  5  »*14*/  Jq  maintaine  beautie  in  her  pride. 

These  prancking  dames  must  have. 

But  elder  yeeres  approching  on  15 

A  little  every  dale, 
Their  daintie  beautie  dooth  decline, 

And  vanisheth  away. 
And  as  colde  Winter  chaseth  hence 

The  pleasant  Sununer  daies,  20 

So  withered  age  encountreth  youth. 

Amidst  his  wanton  waies. 

You  that  thinke  scome  of  auncient  age. 

And  hold  him  in  contempt, 
To  make  of  beautie  such  a  price,  25 

And  to  vaine  thoughts  are  bent 
Remember  Nature  yeelds  to  course. 

And  course  his  race  will  have, 
From  the  first  howre  of  your  byrth 

Untill  you  come  to  grave.  30 

Age  is  an  honour  unto  them 

That  live  to  see  the  same. 
And  none  but  vaine  and  foolish  hands 

Will  blot  olde  age  with  blame; 
Who  oftentimes  are  soone  cut  off,  35 

And  not  so  happy  blest. 
To  see  the  dayes  their  fathers  did, 

Before  they  went  to  rest. 

Thrise  happy  they  that  spend  their  youth 
In  good  and  vertuous  wise.  40 

Forsaking  all  such  vaine  desires 
As  wanton  heads  surmise, 


EARLY  LOVE-POEMS  459 

And  wholie  doo  direct  themselves 

Unto  his  will  that  made  them, 
Then  Folly  never  can  have  power 

From  Vertue  to  disswade  them. 


II.   Early  Love-Poems:  before  1580? 

16.  (From  Addit.  MS,  22,601,  ff.  56  V.-59  V.)  <Cf.  Euph. 

and  SaphOf 
Who  loues  and  would  his  suite  should  proue  5  passim) 

(To)  winn  his  Mistress  to  his  will, 

That  she  likes  he  must  seeme  to  loue 

And  what  she  loues  coAend  it  still. 

Then  at  fitt  time  preferr  yo'  sute 

Let  not  sharpe  answers  strike  yo^  mute.  10 

Their  Castells  on  such  ground  are  sett 
as  vndermyninge  may  them  take 
The  walls  so  weake  no  strength  can  lett 
shott  soone  therein  a  breache  will  make 

Their  forces  are  so  weake  within  15 

small  pow'  semes  their  forts  to  win. 

If  men  haue  tongues  to  craue  &  pray 

aswell  as  women  to  deny 

No  stronger  is  their  no  or  nay 

then  force  of  wise  mens  yes  or  L  20 

For  mens  perswations  stronger  are 

then  womens  noes  are  much  by  fiarr. 

Their  no  is  weake  &  blunt  also 

such  weapons  weakely  do  defend 

Mens  yea  so  sharpe  will  pierce  their  no  25 

and  Conquer  them  if  they  contend. 

Then  feare  not  force,  where  force  is  none 

least  feare  yo'  force  do  ouercome 

There  Sex  withstands  not  place  (if  fitt{)) 

no{r)  speache,  for  be  she  base  or  hie  30 

A  womans  ey  doth  guide  hir  witt 

hir  witt  doth  neuer  guide  hir  eye 

Then  senceles  is  he  y*  can  speake 

feares  to  the  best  his  loue  to  breake. 


46o  POEMS 

The  brauer  mart  the  better  matche 

and  willinger  of  all  is  sought 

And  willinge  sute  doth  euer  catche 

foule  Vulcan  so  faire  Venus  cought 
{Euph.  ii.  Were  she  a  Quene  she  would  be  wonne  5 

53  *•  ^5/  if  cuningly  yo'^  race  you  runne. 

(,Sapfu>,  ii.  He  that  can  rubb  hir  gamesome  vaine 

^  ^    ^^  and  also  temper  toyes  with  art 

Makes  Loue  swim  at  hir  eies  amaine 

and  so  to  diue  into  hir  hart  lo 

Their  Sex  are  weake,  weake  forts  canott 
w^J'stand  the  force  of  Canon  shott. 

I  argue  not  of  hir  estate 

but  all  my  rest  I  sett  on  this 
(^Euph/\\.  That  oportunity  will  mate  15 

53  "•  ^5  and  winn  the  coyest  she  y*  is. 

Laves  Met,  ^^'  ^^  ^^  Courted  they  desire 

ii.  I.  Ill)  to  further  pleasure  to  aspire. 

{Euph^ix,  The  towne  w^^  will  to  pariy  coi&e 

105  11.17-  ^jjj  y^i^  ^Q  peace  (though  hye  in  state)  20 

And  those  no  doubt  will  soone  be  wonne 

y^  courtinge  loue  which  none  do  hate. 

If  bloody  warres  they  ment  to  vse 
perswations  milde  they  would  refuse. 

Although  they  seeme  to  scome  loues  beck  25 

and  in  all  shew  the  same  to  hate 
(^Euph,  i.  And  though  at  first  they  giue  y^  check 

21311.6-7)  at  last  they  gladly  take  the  mate. 

for  pleasure  they  to  play  beginn 

in  sport  they  lose  in  sport  they  winn.  30 

(5a/A.  i.  4.  In  words  &  lookes  theis  Ladies  braue 

4^~7)  haue  coye  disdaine  voide  of  loues  fire 

But  in  their  mindes  &  harts  they  haue 
a  feruent  and  a  bote  desire. 

Reiectinge  words  mens  suits  deny  35 

alluringe  iestures  do  say  yea. 

{Euph,  ii.  Courtinge  makes  them  stoope  to  lure 

119  ^^>  and  guiftes  reclaimes  them  to  the  fist 

*3"5/  And  with  y*  bridle  and  saddle  sure 

you  well  may  ride  them  where  yo^  list  40 

In  such  cariers  they  run  on  still 
yt  yo^  may  breake  yo'  Launce  at  wilL 


(^Safh,  ii. 
4.  66-9> 


EARLY  LOVE-POEMS  461 

If  bewtifuU  a  Lady  be 

with  praises  great  you  must  hir  moue: 

If  witty  then  be  wonn  will  she 

w**»  fine  conceites  the  art  of  loue. 

If  coye  she  be  w**'  prayers  sue,  5 

if  proude  then  guifts  must  pleade  for  youe.  {Iff.) 

If  Couetous  she  be  indeede 

with  promises  you  must  assay: 

If  wayward  then  w**'  force  proceede. 

but  all  the  fault  on  bewtie  lay:  10 

And  in  one  instant  also  vse 

some  rare  delight  w^^  a  iust  excuse. 

Sayinge  thus:   yo'^  bewty  doth  me  drawe 

and  eke  compell  me  this  to  doe 

No  faulte  in  me  for  as  the  strawe  15 

drawne  by  pure  lett  must  leape  thereto  {Euph.  i. 

So  I  beinge  forc'd  deserue  no  blame  228 1.  25) 

sith  that  yo'  bewty  forc'd  the  same. 

When  you  haue  don  no  doubt  but  she 

the  better  like  and  loue  you  will  20 

faire  Helen  may  example  be 

ho  we  Menelaus  she  hated  still 

His  softnes  made  him  woo  in  vaine 

she  did  his  humblenes  disdaine. 

Enforcinge  Paris  she  did  loue  25   iSaph.n,A, 

and  like  for  forcinge  hir  so  well  93-5) 

That  greatest  dangers  she  would  proue 
with  him  for  to  remaine  &  dwell. 

yet  she  confest  as  it  was  righte 

the  Gretian  was  the  better  knighte.  30 

But  Menelaus  takes  hart,  and  soe  (£uM  i. 

by  force  recouers  hir  againe  234  U.  a8- 

By  force  makes  hir  with  him  to  goe  3c>) 

by  force  enioyes  hir  not  in  vaine 

for  when  he  manlike  Deedes  did  vse  35 

to  yeld  to  him  she  could  not  chuse. 

And  she  y^  neuer  like  him  coulde 

for  seruice  and  for  reuerence 

Did  euer  after  deare  him  holde 

and  loue  him  eke  for  violence  40 

Tis  modesty  that  they  refraine 

what  they  refuse  they  would  haue  faine. 

41  that  they]  they  not  AfS. 


462  POEMS 

Though  women  striue  &  disagree 
they  meane  not  for  to  ouercofhe, 
Though  they  full  angrie  seeme  to  be 
well  pleas'd  they  are  when  well  tis  done. 

They  would  not  striue  nor  yet  denye  5 

but  y^  mens  forces  they  would  trye. 

The  modestie  of  Men  I  finde 

they  like  not,  yef  it  praises  lend 

They  hate  the  fearefull  dasterd  minde 

that  offers  not  for  feare  t'  offend  10 

Then  feare  not  for  to  beard  the  best 

kindely  they  kindenes  will  digest. 

If  that  she  do  dislike  before 

you  do  attempt  hir  for  to  win, 

Then  she  can  do  at  last  no  more  15 

howe  euer  you  hir  vse  therein. 

With  lyinge  still  no  forte  is  gott 

nor  Castell  battered  w^^ut  shott. 

And  women  thinke  there  is  no  fire 

where  they  no  sparkes  of  furie  see  20 

for  to  be  courted  they  desire 

though  they  in  shew  displeased  bee. 

In  womens  mouthes  in  case  of  loue 

no,  no  negatiue  will  proue. 

A  womas  hart  and  tongue  by  Idnde  25 

should  not  be  Relatiues  alwaye 

Neither  is  y*  Prouerbe  true  I  finde 

What  hart  doth  thinke,  y^  tongue  doth  say 

They  like  y^  Lapwinge  off  do  fiye 

and  farthest  from  their  Nests  do  crye.  30 

They  vse  denialls  &  sharpe  quippes 
not  for  because  they  do  not  loue 
But  partly  for  to  shew  their  witts 
and  eke  mens  constancie  to  proue« 

Though  they  refuse  it  will  appeare  35 

tis  but  th'  obtayninge  to  endeare. 

If  women  were  not  frendly  foes 

beinge  hable  for  to  ouercome 

They  would  not  softly  strike  w***  noes 

nor  yet  vnto  a  parley  cofifie.  40 

Or  if  mens  suites  they  did  disdaine 

to  answer  them  they  would  refraine. 


EARLY  LOVE-POEMS  463 

Take  heede  do  not  at  first  shott  yelde 
their  tongues  will  once  the  battell  sounde 
At  last  you  sure  shall  winn  the  field 
if  that  you  well,  will  keepe  yo'  grounde 

If  that  y^  forte  she  hold  out  longe  5 

the  next  assaults  then  make  more  stronge. 

When  as  a  fearfuU  Horsman  backs 

a  ready  horse  the  horse  will  bounde 

And  for  to  leape  he  neuer  slacks 

till  he  hath  throwne  him  to  the  grounde  10 

But  if  a  horsman  good  he  finde 

will  sitt  him  close  he  yeldes  by  kinde. 

Vnworthy  life  y*  Hounde  we  deeme 

w^^  giues  y«  chase  of  at  first  fault  {£upk,  ii. 

So  of  such  men  they  not  esteeme  15   '3©  1-  a8) 

for  one  repulse  w^^  leaues  th*  assault 

That  loue  is  weakely  built  they  knowe 

w*^^  one  denyall  downe  doth  blowe. 

If  y^  in  chase  so  ill  you  holde 

as  for  one  faulte  to  leaue  the  same  20 

They  will  suppose  yo'  suite  is  colde 

and  thinke  you  care  not  for  y^  game. 

for  women  this  account  do  make 

they  will  say  no  and  yet  will  take. 

The  Souldio'  faint  w«^  standeth  still  25   iEuph.  ii. 

in  battell  fearing  Enemies  sight  106  L  la) 

Is  sooner  slaine  then  he  y*  will 
the  brauest  onsett  giue  in  fighte 

Then  if  you  loue  be  not  afraide 

to  beard  the  best  as  I  haue  saide.  30 

17.  (From  Rawlimon  MS.  Poet.  148,  ff.  2-3.) 

Of  Hngeringe  Loue.  <CtN<^^ 

I.    In  Hngeringe  Loue  mislikinge  growes^ 
Wherby  our  fancies  ebbs  and  fiowes : 
We  love  to  day,  and  hate  to  mome, 
And  dayly  wher  we  list  to  scome.  35 

Take  heede  therfore, 
If  she  mislike,  then  love  no  more : 

Quicke  speed  makes  waste, 
Loue  is  not  gotten  in  such  haste. 


464 


POEMS 


(^Euph.  ii. 
105  1.  17 
and  No.  18, 
passim) 


{^Eupk.  ii. 
149 1.  30 ; 
No.  18 
St.  6) 


i^Euph.  ii. 

81,  95. 
passim) 


2.  The  sute  is  colde  that  soone  is  done, 
The  forte  is  feeble  easly  wonne: 

The  haulke  that  soone  comes  by  her  pray, 
may  take  a  Toye  and  sore  away. 

Marke  what  means  this, 
Some  thincke  to  hitt  &  yet  they  misse: 

ffirst  creepe,  then  goe, 
Me  thinke(s)  our  loue  is  handled  soe. 

3.  fibr  lacke  of  Bellowes  the  fire  goes  out, 
Some  say,  the  next  way  is  about: 

ffew  thinges  are  had  without  some  sute, 
The  tree  at  first  will  beare  no  fruite. 

Seme  longe,  Hope  well, 
Loe  heere  is  all  that  I  can  tell: 

Tyme  tries  out  troth. 
And  troth  is  likt'  wher  ere  it  goth. 

4.  Some  thincke  all  theirs  that  they  doe  seeke, 
Some  wantons  wooe  but  for  a  weeke: 
Some  wooe  to  shew  their  subtile  witte. 
Such  Palfreyes  play  vpon  their  bitte, 

ffine  heads  god  knowes, 
That  plucke  a  nettle  for  a  rose: 

They  meete  their  mach, 
And  fare  tlie  woorsse  because  they  snach. 

5.  We  silly  women  can  not  rest, 

for  Men  that  love  to  woe  in  iest : 
Some  lay  their  baite  in  ev'ry  nooke, 
And  ev'ry  fish  doth  spie  their  hooke. 

Ill  ware,  good  cheape, 
Which  makes  vs  looke  before  we  leape; 

Craft,  can  cloke  much, 
God  saue  all  simple  soules  from  such. 

6.  Though  lingeringe  Loue  be  lost  some  while. 
Yet  lingeringe  louers  laugh  and  smile: 
Who  will  not  linger  for  a  day. 

May  banish  hope  and  happ  away. 

Loue  must  be  plide, 
Who  thinckes  to  sayle  must  wayte  y®  tide: 

Thus  ends  this  dance: 
God  send  all  ling'rers  happie  chance. 

Finis. 


10 


15 


20 


25 


30 


35 


40 


36  May]  To  Park 


EARLY  LOVE-POEMS  465 

• 

18.  {From  QXtmaktYLc^Araxm^n  A  Hande/ull  of  Pleasant  DeU^^    15S4.) 

A  Warning  for  Wooers^ 

that  they  be  not  over  hastie,  nor  deceived  with 

womens  beautie. 

To—'  Salisburie  Plaine.* 

Ye  loving  wormes,  come  leame  of  me,  5 

The  plagues  to  leave  that  linked  be; 
The  grudge,  the  grief,  the  gret  anoy, 
The  fickle  faith,  the  fading  ioy, 

In  time  take  heed ; 
In  fruitlesse  soile  sow  not  thy  seed :  10 

Buie  not,  with  cost,  (Cam/,  t. 

The  thing  that  yeelds  but  labour  lost.  3;  3©  note ; 


If  Cupids  dart  do  chance  to  light,  iotlV^ 

So  that  affection  dimmes  thy  sight; 
Then  raise  up  reason,  by  and  by,  15 

With  skill  thy  heart  to  fbrtifie; 

Where  is  a  breach. 
Oft  times  too  late  doth  come  the  Leach  : 

Sparks  are  put  out,  <No.  41* 

When  furnace  flames  do  rage  about.  20  ^  "/ 

Thine  owne  delay  must  win  the  field. 
When  lust  doth  leade  thy  heart  to  yeeld: 
When  steed  is  stolne,  who  makes  al  fast, 
May  go  on  foot  for  al  his  haste : 

In  time  shut  gate,  25 

For  had  I  wist,  doth  come  too  late: 

Fast  bind,  fast  find  ; 
Repentance  alwaies  commeth  behind. 

The  Syrens  tunes  oft  time  beguiles,  (Cf. 

So  doth  the  teares  of  Crocodiles ;  30  ^aagery, 

But  who  so  leames  Ulysses  lore,  stt'a-3> 

May  passe  the  seas,  and  win  the  shore. 

Stop  eares,  stand  fast, 
Through  Cupids  trips,  thou  shalt  him  cast; 

Flie  baits,  shun  hookes,  35 

Be  thou  not  snarde  with  lovely  lookes. 

No.  1 8.  As  reprinted  in  Park's  *  Helicmia^  vol,  ii.  pp,  5.^-7.    He  also  gave  part 
of  it  in  *  Censura  Literaria,*  i.  143-6        6  leave]  qy,  f  love 

HOND  III  H  h 


466  POEMS 

Where  Venus  hath  the  maisterie, 

There  love  hath  lost  her  libertie  : 

Where  love  doth  win  the  victorie, 

The  fort  is  sackt  with  crueltie. 

First  look,  then  leap,  5 

In  suretie  so  your  skinnes  you  keepe; 
(Mar'  The  snake  doth  sting, 

^^^'  "7-  That  lurking  lieth  with  hissing. 

{Euph.  Where  Cupids  fort  hath  made  a  waie, 

p  '®5  There  grave  advise  doth  beare  no  swaie ;  10 

*'  Where  love  doth  raigne,  and  rule  the  roste. 

There  reason  is  exilde  the  coast: 

Like  all,  love  none, 

Except  ye  use  discretion : 

<i?ai>l.lL  First  try,  then  trust,  15 

149 1.30;  Be  not  deceived  with  sinful  lust. 

Na  17  St. 

3> 

Marke  Priams  sonne,  his  fond  devise, 

When  Venus  did  obtaine  the  prise ; 

For  Pallas  skil,  and  Junoes  strength, 

He  chose  that  bred  his  bane,  at  length.  20 

Choos  wit,  leave  wil, 
Let  Helen  be  with  Paris  stil : 

Amis  goeth  al 
Wher  fancie  forceth  fooles  to  fall. 

Where  was  there  found  a  happier  wight  25 

Than  Troylus  was,  til  love  did  light  ? 
What  was  the  end  of  Romeus  ? 
Did  he  not  die,  like  Piramus? 
Who  baths  in  blis, 
{Loves  Let  him  be  mindful  of  I  phis  :  30 

'^K  Who  seeks  to  plese, 

(ih.wiit  May  ridden  be,  like  Hercules, 

passage) 

I  lothe  to  tel  the  peevish  brawles, 

And  fond  delights,  of  Cupids  thrawles ; 

Like  Momish  mates  of  Midas  mood,  35 

They  gape  to  get  that  doth  no  good : 

Now  down,  now  up, 
As  tapsters  use  to  tosse  the  cup: 

One  breedelh  ioy, 
Another  breeds  as  great  anoy.  40 


EARLY  LOVE-POEMS  467 

Some  love  for  wealth,  and  some  for  hue, 

And  none  of  both  these  loves  are  true : 

For  when  the  mil  hath  lost  her  sailes, 

Then  must  the  miller  lose  his  vailes :  (^Euph.  ii. 

Of  grasse  commeth  hay,  5    134  "•  ^^~ 

And  flowers  faire  wil  soon  decay:  st!'i^  ' 

Of  ripe  commeth  rotten  ;  (No.  39 

In  age  al  beautie  is  forgotten.  stt  a-3) 


Some  loveth  too  hie,  and  some  too  lowe. 

And  of  them  both  great  griefs  do  grow ;  10 

And  some  do  love  the  common  sort. 

And  common  folke  use  common  sport. 

Looke  not  too  hie. 
Least  that  a  chip  fall  in  thine  eie :  (^Euph.  ii. 

But  hie  or  lowe,  15   ^'9  L  25) 

Ye  may  be  sure  she  is  a  shrow. 

But,  Sirs,  I  use  to  tell  no  tales; 

£ch  fish  that  swims  doth  not  beare  scales ;  {^Euph,  i. 

In  everie  hedge  I  find  not  thomes  ;  *^^     ^^^ 

Nor  everie  beast  doth  carrie  homes:  20 

I  sale  not  so. 
That  everie  woman  causeth  wo: 

That  were  too  broad ; 
Who  loveth  not  venom,  must  shun  the  tode. 

Who  useth  still  the  truth  to  tel,  25 

May  blamed  be,  though  he  saie  wel: 
Say  crowe  is  white,  and  snowe  is  blacke, 
Lay  not  the  fault  on  woman's  backe; 

Thousands  wer6  good, 
But  few  scapte  drowning  in  Noes  flood :  30 

Most  are  wel  bent; 
I  must  say  so,  least  I  be  shent. 

FINIS. 


H  h  a 


468  POEMS 

19.  (Prom  Clement  Robinson's  A  Handefull  of  Pleasant  DeliteSy  1584.) 

<Cf.  Enph.  A  Proper  Sofiet, 

to  LnciUa, 

1.339-40;  intituled,  'I  smile  to  see  how  you  devise.' 

iv  V  pass.  •  ^°  ^"^'^  pleasant  Tune. 

andNo.47>  j  g^jjig  ^q  g^^  jj^^  yQ^  devise 

New  masking  nets  my  eies  to  bleare ;  5 

Your  self  you  cannot  so  disguise, 
But  as  you  are,  you  must  appeare. 

Your  privie  winkes  at  boord  I  see, 
And  how  you  set  your  raving  mind  : 

Your  self  you  cannot  hide  from  me,  10 

Although  I  wincke,  I  am  not  blind. 

The  secret  sighs,  and  fained  cheare. 
That  oft  doth  paine  thy  carefull  brest, 

To  me  right  plainly  doth  appeare  ; 
I  see  in  whom  thy  hart  doth  rest.  15 

And  though  (thou)  makest  a  fained  vow, 
That  love  no  more  thy  heart  should  nip ; 

Yet  think  I  know,  as  well  as  thou. 
The  fickle  helm  doth  guide  the  ship. 

The  salamander  in  the  fire,  20 

By  course  of  kinde,  doth  bathe  his  limmes : 

The  floting  fish  taketh  his  desire 

In  running  streames,  whereas  he  swimmes. 

(No.  47  So  thou  in  change  doth  take  delight ; 

*^  3>  Ful  wel  I  know  thy  slipperie  kinde :  25 

In  vaine  thou  seemst  to  dim  my  sight, 
Thy  rowling  eies  bewraieth  thy  minde. 

(/^.  St.  4)  I  see  him  smile,  that  doth  possesse 

Thy  love,  which  once  I  honoured  most: 
If  he  be  wise,  he  may  well  gesse,  30 

Thy  love,  soon  won,  wil  soon  be  lost. 

And  sith  thou  canst  no  man  intice. 
That  he  should  stil  love  thee  alone ; 

Thy  beautie  now  hath  lost  her  price, 
I  see  thy  savorie  sent  is  gone.  35 

No.  19.  j4s  reprinted  in  Parkas  ^Heiiconia*  vol,  ii.  //.  65-7.    lie  also  gave  it 
in  *  Cens,  Lit^  i.  143-6 


FOUR  SONGS  469 

Therefore,  leave  off  thy  wonted  plaie ; 
But  as  thou  art  thou  wilt  appeare, 
~    Unlesse  thou  canst  devise  a  waie 

To  dark  the  sun,  that  shines  so  rieare. 

And  keep  thy  friend,  that  thou  hast  won  ;  5 

In  trueth  to  him  thy  love  supplie ; 
Least  he  at  length,  as  I  have  done, 

Take  off  thy  belies,  and  let  thee  flie. 

20.  (From  Addit.  MS,  15,232,  f.  12  v.) 

O  happ  moste  harde  where  truthe  doth  most  beguyle 

O  churlishe  chaunce  where  love  gives  caus  to  loth  10 

O  face  moste  fals  w^^  frowneth  by  a  smyle 

O  fayned  faithe  w^^  loves  and  hateth  both 

My  saftye  stayes  where  dainger  ever  bydes 

My  settled  truste  standes  faste  one  waveringe  doutt 

No  steddfaste  staye  is  that  w<>^  ever  slydes  15 

Displeased  contente  still  neither  in  nor  oute{.) 

To  maske  my  mynde  where  moste  yt  woulde  be  seen  (Cf.  No. 

To  hyde  my  hurtes  where  healinge  handes  should  helpe  10) 

To  saye  a  naye  where  soothe  doth  beste  beseeme 

Shewes  but  a  foole  one  Mother  Cowardes  whelpe  20 

Wherefor  I  dare  saye  as  I  saide  before 

And  faine  woulde  doe  yf  donne  I  live  no  more 

III.    Four  Songs 

(to  replace  some  missing  from  the  plays) 

21.  (From  Thomas  Morley*t  First  Booke  of  BcUletts^  1600 :  No.  4.) 

Sing  wee  and  chaunt  it,  <Cf.  Ctmp, 

While  loue  doth  graunt  it.  ^  ^idMiM 

Fa  la  la  la.  25  gong 

Not  long  youth  lasteth,  between 

And  old  age  hasteth,  Sl!!!^ 

.    ,         1  Phrygins, 

Now  IS  best  leysure,  and  Lais) 

To  take  our  pleasure. 

Fa  la  la  la.  30 

No.  30.  The  MS.,  which  includes  some  of  the  '  Astrophel  and  Stella  *  sonnets  in 
a  hand  like  Sidney's^  has  been  associated,  on  no  good  authority ,  with  his  sister  and 
Wilton.  Thh  last  line  of  this  sonnet  suggests  Donne* s  habit  of  punning  on  his 
name  ;  but  I  trace  him  nowhere  else  in  the  MS,  No.  ai.  Also  in  *  Cens,  Lit.* 

ii.  88,  and  Bullen's  *  Lyrics  from  Song-Books,  p.  211 


470 


POEMS 

All  things  inuite  vs, 
Now  to  delight  vs. 

Fa  la  la  la. 
Hence  care  be  packing, 
No  mirth  bee  lacking, 
Let  spare  no  treasure, 
To  Hue  in  pleasure. 

Fa  la  la  la. 


<Cf. 

EfuUm,  it 
3.  40 '  sing 
theinchant- 
ment  for 
sleepe') 


22.  (From  HarL  MS.  (c.  1596)  6910,  f.  164.) 

Sleepe,  Deathes  alye,  obliuion  of  teares. 

Silence  of  Passions,  balme  of  angrie  sore 
Suspence  of  loues,  Securitie  of  feares 
Wraths  Lenatiue,  Hearts  ease,  stormes  calmest  shore, 
Senses  and  Soules  repriuall  from  all  Combers 
Benuming  sense  of  ill  with  quiet  slumbers 


10 


^Cf.  En- 
aimion's 
speeches 
ii.  I.  39- 
43, 3-  i-ao, 
&c> 


<No.  63 
1.  a8> 


28.  (From  TAe  Phcsnix  Nest,  1593.) 

(Possibly  the  missing  song  of  Geron,  in  Endim.  iii.  4.  i.) 

Like  to  a  Hermite  poore  in  place  obscure,  15 

I  meane  to  spend  my  daies  of  endles  doubt, 
To  waile  such  woes  as  time  cannot  recure. 

Where  none  but  Loue  shall  euer  finde  me  out. 

My  foode  shall  be  of  care  and  sorow  made, 

My  drink  nought  else  but  teares  falne  from  mine  eies,  20 

And  for  my  light  in  such  obscured  shade, 

The  flames  shall  seme,  which  from  my  hart  arise. 

A  gowne  of  graie,  my  bodie  shall  attire. 

My  staffe  of  broken  hope  whereon  He  staie. 
Of  late  repentance  linckt  with  long  desu-e,  25 

The  couch  is  fram'de  whereon  my  limbes  lie  lay. 

And  at  my  gate  dispaire  shall  linger  still. 
To  let  in  death  when  Loue  and  Fortune  will. 

No.  a  a.  Also  printed  in  Brydges*  *  Excerpta  Tudoriana^  vol,  i./.  16. 

No.  a  3.  Also  in  HarL  MS.  6910,/.  139.  Park  {^  Helicofiia*  vol,  ii./.  153)  notes 
*  These  are  the  original  words  of  the  celebrated  song  set  by  Alfonso  Ferabosco  and 
Nicholas  Laniere^  and  referred  to  by  Wcdton  in  his  **  Complete  Angler^''  by  North  in 
his  life  of  the  Lord- Keeper  Guildford,  by  Phineas  Fletcher  in  his  metaphrase  of  the 
^2dpscUmt  and  by  Butler  in  part  i.  canto  a,  of^^IIudibras.*^  *  Dr.  Hannah  printed 
it  among  ^ Raleigh^ s  Poems '  1875,  /.  i  a,  with  note  ^Ascribed  to  Raleigh  in  "  To  day 
a  MaUy  tomorrow  none**  1643-4;  Kin^s  Pamphlets  B.  M,  vol.  139.  //  is 
anonvmousin  '' Phetn.  Nest'* p.  60;  in  '*  Tixall Poetry" p.  115/  in  Rawl.  MS. 
^Sf/'  ^^v.  ;  in  Hart.  MS.  6910,/;  139  v.,  dr*^.' 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS  471 

24.  (From  John  Dowiand't  Secohd  Booke  cf  Songs  or  Ayres^  1600  : 

No.  I.) 

(Cf.  Woman  in  the  Moone^  i.  i.  224:  the  missing  song  of  the  Shepherds 

to  cakn  Pandora.) 

I  saw  my  Lady  weepe, 
And  sorrow  proud  to  bee  aduanced  so, 
In  those  faire  eies,  where  all  perfections  keepe : 

Hir  face  was  full  of  woe. 
But  such  a  woe  (beleeue  me)  as  wins  more  hearts,  5 

Then  mirth  can  doe  with  hir  intysing  parts. 

Sorow  was  there  made  faire, 
And  passion  wise,  teares  a  delightfull  thing, 
Silence  beyond  all  speech  a  wisdome  rare, 

Shee  made  hir  sighes  to  sing,  10 

And  all  things  with  so  sweet  a  sadnesse  moue, 
As  made  my  heart  at  once  both  grieue  and  loue. 

O  fayrer  then  ought  ells. 
The  world  can  shew,  leaue  of  in  time  to  grieue, 
Inough,  inough,  your  ioyfull  lookes  excells,  15 

Teares  kills  the  heart  belieue, 
O  striue  not  to  bee  excellent  in  woe, 
Which  onely  breeds  your  beauties  ouerthrow. 

IV.    Later  Love-Poems. 

25.  (From  WiUiam  Byrd't  Psolmes^  Sonets,  &*  songs,  1 588  .*  No.  25.)  (Cf.  No. 

34) 

Farewell  false  loue,  the  oracle  of  lyes, 

A  mortal  foe,  &  enimie  to  rest :  20 

An  enuious  boy,  from  whome  all  cares  aryse, 
A  bastard  vile,  a  beast  with  rage  possest: 

A  way  of  error,  a  temple  ful  of  treason. 

In  all  effects  contrarie  vnto  reason. 

A  poysoned  serpent  couered  all  with  flowers,  25   (Cf, 

Mother  of  sighes,  and  murtherer  of  repose,  l?^*^©?* 

A  sea  of  sorows  fro  wh?ce  are  draw?  such  showers,  ®*     ' 

As  moysture  lend  to  euerie  g^efe  that  growes, 
A  school  of  guile,  a  net  of  deepe  deceit, 
A  guilded  hooke,  that  holds  a  poysoned  bayte.  30 

Nos.  24-5  also  in  BulUtCs  *  Lyrics  from  Elizabethan  Song-Books  ^  pp,  13,  144  ; 
and  No.  25  in  *  Censura  Literaria^  ii.  115.    No  authors  suggested 


472  POEMS 

A  fortress  foyled,  which  reason  did  defend, 

A  Syren  song,  a  feauer  of  the  minde, 

A  maze  wherein  affection  finds  no  ende, 

A  raging  cloude  that  runnes  before  the  wmde, 

A  substance  like  the  shadow  of  the  Sunne,  5 

A  goale  of  griefe  for  which  the  wisest  runne. 

A  quenchlesse  fire,  a  nurse  of  trembling  feare, 

A  path  that  leads  to  perill  and  mishap, 

A  true  retreat  of  sorrow  and  dispayre, 

An  idle  boy  that  sleepes  in  pleasures  lap,  10 

A  deepe  mistrust  of  that  which  certaine  seemes, 
A  hope  of  that  which  reason  doubtfiill  deemes. 

Finis. 

26.  (Prom  William  Byrd*t  Scngs  of  sundrie  natures ^  1589 :  No.  10.) 

When  younglyngs  first  on  Cupide  fyxe  their  sight, 
ILovesMet,  And  see  him  naked,  blyndfold  &  a  boy,  15 

3.1.51-61)  Though  bow  &  shafts  and  fier-brand  be  his  might. 

Yet  weene  they  he  can  worke  them  none  annoy. 

And  therefore  with  his  purpill  wings  they  play. 
For  glorious  semeth  loue  though  light  as  father. 

And  when  they  haue  done  they  weene  to  skape  away,  20 

For  blynd  men,  say  they,  shoote  they  know  not  whether. 

But  when  by  proofe  they  finde  that  he  did  see, 
&  that  his  wound  did  rather  dym  their  sight. 

They  wonder  more  how  such  a  lad  as  he. 

Should  be  of  such  surpassing  powre  and  might :  25 

{EufA,  ii.  But  Ants  haue  gals,  so  hath  the  Bee  his  styng, 

90}' ^i»  Then  sheeld  me  heauens  from  such  a  subtyle  thing, 

and  N08. 

27.  (From  William  Bjrrd*t  Songs  of  sutidrie  natures,  1589 :  No.  3a) 

When  I  was  otherwise  then  now  I  am, 

I  loued  more  but  skilled  not  so  much: 
(^GaU,vr,  Fayre  wordes  and  smyles  could  haue  contented  than,  30 

/f'^loM*  ^y  simple  age  &  ignorance  was  such: 

p.474l.'5;  ^"^  **  *^^  length  experience  made  me  wonder, 

Sudeky,  That  harts  &  tongues  did  lodge  so  farre  asunder. 

p.  4^9  L 14, 

&c.)  As  watermen  which  on  the  Teames  do  row 

(JSndim,  Looke  to  the  East,  but  West  keepes  on  the  way,  35 


iv.  a.  57> 


No,  a6.  Also  in  BtUUrCs  '  Lyrics  from  Eiiaabethan  Song-Books,'  p.  7  a 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS 


473 


My  Soueraigne  sweet,  her  countenance  setled  so, 
To  feede  my  hope  while  she  her  snares  might  laye. 
And  when  she  sawe  that  I  was  in  her  danger, 
Good  God,  how  soone  she  proued  then  a  ranger. 

I  could  not  choose  but  laugh  although  to  late. 

To  see  great  craft  diszifered  in  a  toye, 

I  loue  her  still,  but  such  conditions  hate. 

Which  so  prophanes  my  Paradice  of  ioy. 

Loue  whetts  the  witts,  whose  paine  is  but  a  pleasure, 
A  toy,  by  fitts,  to  play  withall  at  leasure. 


5   (^Euph,  i. 

238  1.  a8; 
i?^,  St.  ii) 


lO 


28.  (From  Addit.  MS,  22,601,  f.  26.) 

A  Gentlewoman  y*  married  a  yonge  Gent  who  after 
forsooke  (hir,)  where vppon  she  tooke  hir  Needle 
in  w«*»  she  was  excelSt  &  wo'ked 
vpo  hir  Sampler  thus 

Come,  giue  me  needle,  stitch  cloth,  silke  &  chaire 

y^  I  may  sitt  and  sigh,  and  sow  &  singe 
For  perfect  cooUo's  to  discribe  y*  aire 

a  subtile  persinge  changinge  constant  thinge 
No  false  stitch  will  1  make,  my  hart  is  true 

plaine  stitche  my  Sampler  is  for  to  coplaine 
How  men  haue  tongues  of  hony,  harts  of  rue. 

true  tongues  &  harts  are  one,  men  makes  them  twaine. 
Giue  me  black  silk  y^  sable  suites  my  hart 

&  yet  som  white  though  white  words  do  deceiue 
No  green  at  all  for  youth  &  I  must  part 

Purple  &  blew,  fast  loue  &  faith  to  weaue. 
May  den  no  more  sleepeless  ile  goe  to  bedd 
Take  all  away,  y^  work  works  in  my  hedd. 


15 


P-  474 1. 

20       ^ 
<No.  39 

St.  3> 
<No.  a;) 


25   <P.458 
U.  i-a> 


29.  (From  The  Phamix  Nest^  1593.) 

Feede  still  thy  selfe,  thou  fondling  with  beliefe. 
Go  hunt  thy  hope,  that  neuer  tooke  effect, 

Accuse  the  wrongs  that  oft  hath  wrought  thy  griefe, 
And  reckon  sure  where  reason  would  suspect. 


30 


No.  28.  Printed  with  others  from  the  same  MS,  in  vol,  V9  of  Early  Eng.  Poetry^ 
Ballads,  ifc,  Percy  Society  (*  Poetical  Miscellanies^  No,  iv)  No.  29.  TMs  and  the 
next  seven  poems,  as  well  as  Nos,  6  and  33,  are  taken  from  Colliers  reprint  of 
*  The  Phanix  Nest*  in  *  Seven  English  Poetical  Miscellanies;  1867,  ^'  i^ 


474  POEMS 

Dwell  in  the  dreames  of  wish  and  vaine  desire, 
Pursue  the  faith  that  flies  and  seekes  to  new, 

Run  after  hopes  that  mocke  thee  with  retire. 
And  looke  for  loue  where  liking  neuer  grew. 

Deuise  conceits  to  ease  thy  carefull  hart,  5 

Trust  vpon  times  and  daies  of  grace  behinde, 

Presume  the  rights  of  promise  and  desart, 
And  measure  loue  by  thy  beleeuing  minde. 

Force  thy  affects  that  spite  doth  daily  chace, 
Winke  at  thy  wrongs  with  wiifull  ouersight,  lo 

See  not  the  soyle  and  staine  of  thy  disgrace, 
Nor  recke  disdaine,  to  doate  on  thy  delite. 

And  when  thou  seest  the  end  of  thy  reward, 
And  these  effects  ensue  of  thine  assault, 

When  rashnes  rues,  that  reason  should  regard,  15 

Yet  still  accuse  thy  fortune  for  the  fault. 

And  crie,  O  Loue,  O  death,  O  vaine  desire. 

When  thou  complainst  the  heate,  and  feeds(t)  the  fire. 

80.  (From  The  Phcmix  Nest y  1593.) 

{C£  Those  eies  which  set  my  fancie  on  a  fire, 

^®'  3^)  Those  crisped  haires,  which  hold  my  hart  in  chains,  20 

Those  daintie  hands,  which  conquer'd  my  desire. 
That  wit,  which  of  my  thoughts  doth  hold  the  rains. 

Those  eies  for  cleerenes  doe  the  Starrs  surpas, 

Those  haires  obscure  the  brightnes  of  the  Sunne, 

Those  hands  more  white,  than  euer  luorie  was,  25 

That  wit  euen  to  the  skies  hath  glorie  woon. 

O  eies  that  pearce  our  harts  without  remorse, 

O  haires  of  right  that  weares  a  roiall  crowne, 

O  hands  that  conquer  more  than  Caesars  force, 

O  wit  that  turns  huge  kingdoms  vpside  downe.  30 

Then  Loue  be  Judge,  what  hart  can  thee  withstand: 
Such  eies,  such  haire,  such  wit,  and  such  a  hand. 

10  thy]  the  Collier  No.  30.  Also  given  in  Mr.  Bullen^s  *  Lyrics  from  Eliza- 
bethan  Song- Books  ^  from  William  Barley's  *  New  Book  of  Tabliture^  '.S96,  whert 
ike  closing  couplet  is  wrongly  placed  as  IL  5-6 :  *  A  free  rendering  of  Desportes* 
sonnet,  ''  Du  bei  odl  de  Diane  est  ma  flamme  empnint^/* '  p.  331  23  doth 

Sullen  a8  wear  Bullen  31  can  thee  withstand]  may  therewith  stand 

Builen  3a  haire]  head  Bullen 


\ 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS  475 

31.  (From  The  Phcenix  Nest,  1593.)  <Cf.  No. 

30) 
Those  eies  that  holds  the  hand  of  euery  hart, 

Those  hands  that  holds  the  hart  of  euery  eie, 

That  wit  that  goes  beyond  all  natures  art. 

That  sence,  too  deepe,  for  wisdome  to  descrie, 

That  eie,  that  hand,  that  wit,  that  heauenly  sence,  5 

All  these  doth  show  my  Mistres  Excellence. 

Oh  eies  that  perce  into  the  purest  hart, 

Oh  hands  that  hold,  the  highest  harts  in  thrall. 
Oh  wit  that  weyes  the  deapth  of  all  desart, 
Oh  sence  that  showes  the  secret  sweete  of  all,  10 

The  heauen  of  heauens,  with  heuenly  powrs  preserue  thee, 
Loue  but  thy  selfe,  and  giue  me  leaue  to  serue  thee. 

To  serue,  to  Hue,  to  looke  vpon  those  eies. 

To  looke,  to  Hue,  to  kisse  that  heauenlie  hand. 
To  sound  that  wit,  that  doth  amaze  the  wise,  15 

To  knowe  that  sence,  no  sence  can  vnderstand, 
To  vnderstande  that  all  the  world  may  know. 
Such  wit,  such  sence,  eies,  hands,  there  are  no  moe. 

32.  (From  The  Phoenix  Nest^  1 593-) 

By  wracke  late  driuen  on  shore,  from  Cupids  Crare, 

Whose  sailes  of  error,  sighes  of  hope  and  feare,  20 

Conueied  through  seas  of  teares,  and  sands  of  care. 

Till  rocks  of  high  disdaine,  hir  sides  did  teare, 

I  write  a  dirge,  for  dolefull  doues  to  sing. 

With  selfe  same  quill,  I  pluckt  from  Cupids  wing. 

Farewell  vnkinde,  by  whom  I  fare  so  ill,  25 

Whose  looks  bewitcht  my  thoughts  with  false  surmise, 

Till  forced  reason  did  vnbinde  my  will. 

And  shewed  my  hart,  the  follie  of  mine  eies, 
And  saide,  attending  where  I  should  attaine, 
Twixt  wish  and  want,  was  but  a  pleasing  paine.  30 

Farewell  vnkinde,  my  floode  is  at  an  ebbe 

My  troubled  thoughts,  are  tumd  to  quiet  wars. 

My  fancies  hope  hath  spun  and  spent  hir  webbe. 

My  former  wounds  are  closed  vp  with  skars,  {Life  i.  a6 

As  ashes  lie,  long  since  consumde  with  fire,  35   (Letter)) 

So  is  my  loue,  so  now  is  my  desire. 

31  floode]  floate  Collier 


476  POEMS 

Farewell  vnkinde,  my  first  and  finalljoue, 

Whose  coie  contempts,  it  bootes  not  heere  to  name, 

But  gods  are  iust,  and  euery  star  aboue, 

Doth  threat  reuenge,  where  faiths  reward  is  blame, 

And  I  may  liue,  though  your  despised  thrall,  < 

By  fond  mischoyce,  to  see  your  fortunes  £alL 

Farewell  vnkinde,  most  cruell  of  your  kinde, 
By  whom  my  worth,  is  drowned  in  disdaines. 
As  was  my  loue,  so  is  your  iudgement  blinde, 
My  fortune  ill,  and  such  hath  beene  my  gaines,  ic 

But  this  for  all,  I  list  no  more  to  sale, 
Farewell  faire  proude,  not  lifes,  but  loues  decaie. 

88,  (F*Dm  The  PhcmixNest^  1593-) 

{Cf. 'The  A  COUNTERLOUE. 

Cooling 

Caxde^  Declare,  O  minde,  from  fond  desires  excluded, 

Euph,}^  That  thou  didst  find  erewhile,  by  Loue  deluded.  15 

24^57) 

An  eie,  the  plot,  whereon  Loue  sets  his  gin, 

Beautie,  the  trap,  wherein  the  heedles  fall, 

A  smile,  the  traine,  that  drawes  the  simple  in, 

Sweete  words,  the  wilie  instrument  of  all, 

Intreaties  posts,  faire  promises  are  charmes,  2C 

Writing,  the  messenger,  that  wooes  our  harmes. 

Mistresse,  and  seruant,  titles  of  mischaunce : 
Commaundments  done,  the  act  of  slauerie, 
Their  coulors  worne,  a  clownish  cQgnisaunce, 
And  double  dutie,  pettie  drudgerie,  25 

And  when  she  twines  and  dallies  with  thy  locks. 
Thy  freedome  then  is  brought  into  the  stocks. 

To  touch  hir  hand,  hir  hand  bindes  thy  desire, 

To  weare  hir  ring,  hir  ring  is  Nessus  gift, 

To  feele  hir  brest,  hir  brest  doth  blowe  the  fire,  3c 

To  see  hir  bare,  her  bare  a  baleful  drift. 
To  baite  thine  eies  thereon,  is  losse  of  sight. 
To  thinke  of  it,  confounds  thy  senses  quite. 

Kisses  the  keies,  to  sweete  consuming  sin, 

Closings,  Cleopatras  adders  at  thy  brest,  3: 

{Eufh.  ii.  '  Fained  resistance  then  she  will  begin, 

131 1.  34)  ^^j  ygj  vnsatiable  in  all  the  rest, 

And  when  thou  doost  vnto  the  act  proceede. 
The  bed  doth  grone,  and  tremble  at  the  deede. 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS  477 

Beautie,  a  siluer  dew  that  fdls  in  May, 
Loue  is  an  Egshell,  with  that  humor  fild, 
Desire,  a  winged  boy,  comming  that  way, 
Delights  and  dallies  with  it  in  the  field, 

The  firie  Sun,  drawes  vp  the  shell  on  hie,  5 

Beautie  decaies,  Loue  dies,  desire  doth  flie. 

Vnharmd  giue  eare,  that  thing  is  haply  caught,  {Eu^h,  i. 

That  cost  some  deere,  if  thou  maist  ha't  for  naught.  '  9  !•  i4> 

34.  (From  The  Phomix  Nest,  1593.) 

The  Description  of  lealousie.  <Cf.  Euph. 

ii.  226 1.10; 
A  seemg  friend,  yet  enimie  to  rest,  10  andNo.as) 

A  wrangling  passion,  yet  a  gladsom  thought, 
A  bad  companion,  yet  a  welcom  g^est, 

A  knowledge  wisht,  yet  found  too  soone  vnsought. 
From  heauen  supposde,  yet  sure  condemn'd  to  hell, 
Is  lealousie,  and  there  forlome  doth  dwell.  15 

And  thence  doth  send  fond  feare  and  false  suspect,  <Cf.  No. 

To  haunt  our  thoughts  bewitched  with  mistrust,  ??      ^^~ 

Which  breedes  in  vs  the  issue  and  effect. 

Both  of  conceits  and  actions  far  vniust. 
The  griefe,  the  shame,  the  smart  wherof  doth  proue,  20 

That  Iealousie*s  both  death  and  hell  to  Loue. 

For  what  but  hell  moues  in  the  iealous  hart. 

Where  restles  feare  works  out  all  wanton  ioyes. 
Which  doth  both  quench  and  kill  the  louing  part, 

And  cloies  the  minde  with  worse  than  knowne  annoyes,  25 
Whose  pressure  far  exceeds  hells  deepe  extreemes, 
Such  life  leads  Loue  entangled  with  misdeemes. 

86.  (From  The  Phcenix  Nest,  1593.) 

Short  is  my  rest,  whose  toile  is  ouerlong, 

My  ioyes  are  darke,  but  cleere  I  see  my  woe, 
My  safe  tie  small :  great  wracks  I  bide  by  wrong,  30 

Whose  time  is  swift,  and  yet  my  hap  but  sloe. 
Each  griefe  and  wound,  in  my  poore  hart  appeeres, 
That  laugheth  howres,  and  weepeth  many  yeeres. 

Deedes  of  the  day,  are  fables  for  the  night, 

Sighes  of  desire,  are  smoakes  of  thoughtfull  teares,  35  {LovesMet. 

iv  I.  ii^i^ 
No.  35.  4iso  in  Harl,  MS,  6910,  f.  148 


478  POEMS 

My  steps  are  false,  although  my  paths  be  right, 

Disgrace  is  bolde,  and  fauor  full  of  feares, 
Disquiet  sleepe,  keepes  audit  of  my  life, 
Where  rare  content,  doth  make  displeasure  rife. 

The  dolefull  bell,  that  is  the  voice  of  time,  5 

Cals  on  my  end,  before  my  haps  be  seene. 

Thus  fals  my  hopes,  whose  harmes  haue  power  to  clime, 
Not  come  to  haue  that  long  in  wish  hath  beene, 

I  seeke  your  loue,  and  feare  not  others  hate. 

Be  you  with  me,  and  I  haue  Csesars  state.  10 

<Ci:  End.        86.  (From  The  Phoenix  Nest,  1593.) 

Praisd  be  Dianas  faire  and  harmles  light, 
Ib\,2,%o)  Praisd  be  the  dewes,  wherwith  she  moists  the  ground; 

lb,  and  Praisd  be  hir  beames,  the  glorie  of  the  night, 

Praisd  be  hir  powre,  by  which  all  powres  abound. 

Praisd  be  hir  Nimphs,  with  whom  she  decks  the  woods,      15 
Praisd  be  hir  knights,  in  whom  true  honor  Hues, 
(73.  i.  1.38)  Praisd  be  that  force,  by  which  she  moues  the  floods. 

Let  that  Diana  shine,  which  aU  these  giues. 

In  heauen  Queene  she  is,  among  the  spheares, 
In  ay(er)  she  Mistres  like  makes  all  things  pure,  20 

(73.)  Etemitie  in  hir  oft  chaunge  she  beares, 

She  b«autie  is,  by  hir  the  faire  endure. 

^7^.  i.1.57.  Time  weares  hu*  not,  she  doth  his  chariot  guide, 

ii.  I.  85)  Mortalitie  belowe  hir  orbe  is  plaste, 

By  hir  the  vertue  of  the  Starrs  doune  slide,  25 

In  hir  is  vertues  perfect  image  cast : 

A  knowledge  pure  it  is  hir  worth  to  kno, 

<P.  439  1.  With  Circes  let  them  dwell  that  thinke  not  so. 

3a,  &c> 


\ 


87.  (From  John  Dowland't  First  Booke  of  Songes  or  Ayres,  1597 :  No.  3.) 

Cf.  No.  I  My  thoughts  are  wingde  with  hop{e)s,  my  hop{e)s  with  loue, 

11. 1  a,  16,  Moilt  loue  vnto  the  moone  in  cleerest  night,  30 


I 


18, 35, 3o> 


No.  36.  Also  in  ^ Englands  Helicon*  i6oo»  161^,  with  title  The  Sheephemrds 
praise  of  his  sacred  Diana.  Said  to  be  signed  S.  W.  R.  (  ^  Sir  Walter  /^aleigA),  with 
Ignoto  printed  on  a  slip  pasted  ozfer  it  in  extant  copies :  in  the  Brit.  Mus,  copy  there 
is  neither  slip  nor  signature,  but  signs  of  some  erasure.  Signed  Ignoto,  ea.  1614. 
It  was  printed,  though  without  conviction^  among  *  RaleigKs  Poems '  1875,  /.  77,  by 
Dr.  Hannah  ao  She  Mistress-like  makes  all  things  to  be  pure :  Bng.  ffeL 

For  ay  qy.  f  earth       No.  37.  Also  in  *  Eng.  HeV  1600,  1614  with  title  Another  to 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS  479 

And  say  as  she  doth  in  the  heauens  mooue 

In  earth  so  wanes  &  waxeth  my  delight:  (^£ndim. 

And  whisper  this  but  softly  in  her  eares,  *  ^  ^ 

Hope  oft  doth  hang  the  head,  and  trust  shed  teares. 

And  you  my  thoughts  that  some  mistrust  do  cary,  5 

If  for  mistrust  my  mistrisse  do  you  blame, 

Say  though  you  alter,  yet  you  do  not  varry,  {Afui.  ii. 

As  she  doth  change,  and  yet  remaine  the  same :  i-  7-") 

Distrust  doth  enter  harts,  but  not  infect,  {Endim, 

And  loue  is  sweetest  seasned  with  suspect.  lo  h.  •  3o-9» 

If  she  for  this,  with  cloudes  do  maske  her  eies,  '5^7/ 

And  make  the  heauens  darke  with  her  disdaine. 
With  windie  sighes  disperse  them  in  the  skies, 
Or  with  thy  teares  dissolue  them  into  raine ; 

Thoughts,  hopes,  &  loue  retume  to  me  no  more,  15 

Till  Cynthia  shine  as  she  hath  done  before. 

38.  (From  Englands  Helicon^  1600.) 

A  Nimphs  disdaine  of  Loue. 

Hey  downe  a  downe  did  Dian  sing, 

amongst  her  Virgins  sitting: 
Then  loue  there  is  no  vainer  thing,  20 

for  Maydens  most  vnfitting, 
And  so  think  I,  with  a  downe  downe  derrie. 

When  women  knew  no  woe, 

but  liuM  them-selues  to  please: 

Mens  fayning  guiles  they  did  not  know,  25   {Euph,\i, 

the  ground  of  their  disease.  57  1^  ^5 

Vnbomc  was  false  suspect,  ff^io^Mci  • 

no  thought  of  iealousie :  Laves  Met, 

From  wanton  toyes  and  fond  affect,  v.  2.14-32; 

The  Virgins  life  was  free.  30  ^^  iv.i.a-) 
Hey  downe  a  downe  did  Dian  sing  &c. 

his  Cinthia,  assigned  in  Fr.  Davis&rCs  MS,  list  to  *  Earle  of  Cumberland,^  Collier 
'lorongly  reported  Dowland  as  attributing  it  to  Greville  (*  Bibl.  Cat ') ;  and  Grosart 
included  it  in  Greville^ s  *  Works '  ii.  1 33  «  *  much  in  the  same  win  *  a  In]  On 
E,  //.        sol  Collier  misprints  she  in  ^ Seven  Poetical  Miscellanies  *  16  Fol- 

lowed in  E.  H,  by  this  note  These  three  ditties  were  taken  out  of  Maister  lohn 
Dowlands  booke  of  tabletuie  for  the  Lute,  the  Authours  names  not  there  set  downe, 
&  therefore  left  to  their  owners  ;  the  two  preceding  ones  being  *  Come  away,  come 
sweet  Louey  and  *Au*ay  with  these  selflouing  Lads'  No.  38.  Dr,  Hannah  rejects 
it  from  his  *  Kcdeigh's  Poems*  1875,  noting^  p.  xxxi,  that  it  was  *  claimed  for 
Raleigh  by  Brydges  and  the  Oxftnd  editors*  on  the  mere  ground  of  the  signature 
Ignoto  25  Mens]  Collier  misprints  Mars 


48o  POEMS 

At  length  men  vsed  charmcs, 

to  which  what  Maides  gaue  eare : 
Embracing  gladly  endlesse  harmes, 

anone  enthralled  were. 
Thus  women  welcom'd  woe, 

disguis'd  in  name  of  loue : 
A  iealous  hell,  a  painted  show, 

so  shall  they  finde  that  proue. 

Hey  downe  a  do\nie  did  Dian  sing, 

amongst  her  Virgins  sitting: 
Then  loue  there  is  no  vainer  thing, 
for  Maydens  most  vnfitting. 
And  so  thinke  I,  with  a  downe  downe  derrie. 

Ignoto, 

Finis.  ] 


89.  (From  Englands  Helicon^  1600.) 

The  Nimphs  reply  to  the  Sheepheard. 

If  all  the  world  and  loue  were  young, 
And  truth  in  euery  Sheepheards  tongue, 
These  pretty  pleasures  might  me  moue, 
To  Hue  with  thee,  and  be  thy  loue. 

Time  driues  the  flocks  from  field  to  fold, 
When  Riuers  rage,  and  Rocks  grow  cold. 
And  Philomell  becommeth  dombe, 
The  rest  complaines  of  cares  to  come. 

(No.  18  The  flowers  doe  fade  &  wanton  fieldes, 

*^*  *^)  To  wayward  winter  reckoning  yeeldes, 

{Wom.\\,\»  A  honny  tongue,  a  hart  of  gall, 

133;  No.  Is  fancies  spring,  but  sorrowes  fall, 

21°  &C.V  '^^y  gownes,  thy  shooes,  thy  beds  of  Roses, 

Thy  cap,  thy  kirtle,  and  thy  poesies, 
Soone  breake,  soone  wither,  soone  forgotten: 

(No.  18  In  follie  ripe,  in  reason  rotten. 


St  10) 


Thy  belt  of  straw  and  luie  buddes, 
Thy  Corall  claspes  and  Amber  studdes, 
All  these  in  mee  no  meanes  can  moue, 
To  come  to  thee,  and  be  thy  loue. 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS  481 

But  could  youth  last,  and  loue  still  breede, 
Had  ioyes  no  date,  nor  age  no  neede, 
Then  these  delights  my  minde  might  moue, 
To  Hue  with  thee,  and  be  thy  loue. 


Finis. 


Ignoto,      5 


40.  (From  Englands  Helicon,  1600.) 

Another  of  the  same  nature^  made  since. 

Come  Hue  with  mee,  and  be  my  deere, 

And  we  will  reuell  all  the  yeere, . 

In  plaines  and  groaues,  on  hills  and  dales:  10 

Where  fragrant  ayre  breedes  sweetest  gales. 

There  shall  you  haue  the  beauteous  Pine, 

The  Cedar,  and  the  spreading  Vine, 

And  all  the  woods  to  be  a  Skreene : 

Least  Phoebus  kisse  my  Sommers  Queene.  15 

The  seate  for  your  disport  shall  be 
Ouer  some  Riuer  in  a  tree, 
Where  siluer  sands,  and  pebbles  sing, 
Etemall  ditties  with  the  spring. 

There  shall  you  see  the  Nimphs  at  play,  20 

And  how  the  Satires  spend  the  day. 

The  fishes  gliding  on  the  sands :  (^IVoman, 

Offering  their  bellies  to  your  hands.  ▼•  i*  30) 

The  birds  with  heauenly  tuned  throates,  {lb,  iiL  i. 

Possesse  woods  Ecchoes  with  sweet  noates,  25   79»  *• 

Which  to  your  sences  will  impart, 
A  musique  to  enflame  the  hart. 

Vpon  the  bare  and  leafe-lesse  Cake, 

The  Ring-Doues  wooings  will  prouoke 

A  colder  blood  then  you  possesse,  30 

To  play  with  me  and  doo  no  lesse. 

In  bowers  of  Laurell  trimly  dight,  {fl.  iii.  1 . 

We  will  out-weare  the  silent  night, 

While  Flora  busie  is  to  spread : 

Her  richest  treasure  on  our  bed.  35 

5  Ignoto]  printed  on  the  page  itself  in  the  Br.  Mus.  copy  1600,  and  not  on 
a  slip  pasted  over  the  initials  S.  W.  R.,  or  is  said  to  be  the  case  in  ether  extant 
copies :  also  Ignoto  ed.  1614 


8l> 


BOND  III 


I    1 


482  POEMS 

Ten  thousand  Glow-wormes  shall  attend, 
And  all  their  sparkling  lights  shall  spend, 
All  to  adome  and  beautifie: 
Your  lodging  with  most  maiestie. 

Then  in  mine  armes  will  I  enclose  5 

Lillies  faire  mixture  with  the  Rose, 
Whose  nice  perfections  in  loues  play : 
Shall  tune  me  to  the  highest  key. 

Thus  as  we  passe  the  welcome  night, 

In  sportfull  pleasures  and  delight,  10 

The  nimble  Fairies  on  the  grounds. 

Shall  daunce  and  sing  mellodious  sounds. 

If  these  may  seme  for  to  entice. 

Your  presence  to  Loues  Paradice, 

Then  come  with  me,  and  be  my  Deare:  15 

And  we  will  straite  begin  the  yeare. 

Finis.  Ignoto. 

(^Euph,Vi»  41^  (From  DKv'iaon'a  Poetical /^a^soify,  1602,) 

QO  11.22-3; 

No.  26 1.26;  Natural/  comparisons  with  perfect  loue 

139-3O  '^^^  lowest  Trees  haue  tops,  the  Ante  her  gall,  20 

iSaph,  The  flie  her  splene,  the  little  sparkes  their  heate: 

Prol.2l.10)  The  slender  haires  cast  shadowes,  though  but  small, 

And  Bees  haue  stings,  although  they  be  not  great: 
Seas  haue  their  sourse,  &  so  haue  shallow  springs. 
And  loue  is  loue,  in  Beggars,  as  in  Kings.  25 

Where  riuers  smoothest  run,  deepe  are  the  foords. 
The  Diall  stirres,  yet  none  perceiues  it  mooue: 
7,2191. 1)  'pjjg  firmest  faith  is  in  the  fewest  wordes, 

The  Turtles  cannot  sing,  and  yet  they  loue: 

True  Harts  haue  eyes,  &  eares,  no  tongs  to  speake,  30 

They  heare,  &  see,  and  sigh,  and  then  they  breake. 

Incerto 

II  grounds  1600,  1614:  ground  Bullen  16  straite]  then  Collier  17 

Igaoio  printed  en  the  page  itself  1600,  1614  No.  41  ^  The  two  stt.  rei*ersed  in 

HarL  MS.  6910,/.  140  v,  19  Naturall .  . .  loue  this  heading  in  'Poet.  Paps.* 

1608  andfollg.  eds.  only  20  smallest  Hart.  MS.  21  sparke  his  Pawl.  MS. 
J  48,  Hart.  6910  22  And  heares  haue  Shadowes  though  they  be  but  smalle 

Harl.  MS.  24  litle  Ilarl.  MS.  25  as]  and  Pawl.  MS.  26  riuers]  waters 
Pawl.  Harl.  MSS.  are  deepest  foords  Harl.  MS. :  y**"  deepest  are  y*  floodes 

Pawl.  MS.  27  can  see  Harl.  MS.  28  is  fownd  in  fewest  Pawl.  MS. :  shonld  bee 
in  fairest  Harl,  MS,  29  cannot]  doe  not  Pawl.  MS,  30  tongue  Hart,  MS. 
32  unsigned ed,  i6ri :  signed  Sir  (w  erased)  Edward  Dier  Pawl,  MS,  148,/.  50 


(^tf.li.561. 
1 7.65 1.23) 
</J.il.i761. 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS 

411  An  Answere  to  the  first  Staffe,  that  Loue  is  vnlike 

in  Beggers  and  in  Kings. 

Compare  the  Bramble  with  the  Cedar  tree, 
The  Pismyres  anger  with  the  Lyons  rage: 
What  is  the  Buzzing  flie  where  Eagles  bee? 
A  drop  the  sparke,  no  seas  can  Aetna  swage. 

Small  is  the  heat  in  Beggers  brests  that  springs, 
But  flaming  fire  consumes  the  hearts  of  Kings. 

Who  shrouds  himself  where  slender  hairs  cast  shade : 
But  mighty  Oakes  may  scome  the  Summer  Sun : 
Smal  cure  wil  seme,  wher  Bees  the  woud  haue  made 
But  Dragons  poyson  through  each  part  doth  run: 
Light  is  the  loue  that  Beggers  bosome  stings, 
Deepe  is  the  wound  that  Cupid  makes  in  Kings* 

Smal  channels  seme,  where  shallow  springs  do  slide. 
And  little  helpe  will  turae  or  stay  their  course: 
The  highest  banks  scarce  holde  the  swelling  tide, 
Which  ouer-throwes  all  stops  with  raging  force: 
The  baser  sort  scarce  wett  them  in  the  springs, 
Which  ouer-whelme  the  heads  of  mighty  kings. 

What  though  in  both  the  hart  bee  set  of  Loue? 
The  self  same  ground  both  come  and  cockle  breeds 
Fast  by  the  Bryer,  the  Pine-tree  mounts  aboue, 
One  kinde  of  grasse,  the  lade  and  lennet  feedes : 
So  from  the  hart,  by  secret  virtue  springs, 
Vnlike  desire  in  Beggers  and  in  Kings. 


483 


10 


15 


20 


<P.  431 1- 
140; 

Euph,  iL 

319  1.  6; 

Camp,  iv. 

a.  8,  V.  4* 

"9-31 ; 

L»M,  iii. 

(^Enaim,  t. 
3. 107-8) 

(^Camp.  ii. 
a.  80  5qq.) 


(Euth.  i. 
a  18  1.  aa, 
ii.i381Li9 
-ao; 
No.598t.5> 


(^Euph,  iL 
aa  1.  11) 

(^Eu(h,  ii. 
25    166  1.  I4> 


A  nomas . 


I  An  Answere  .  .  .  Kings]  in  Rawl.  MS,  148,/.  53  the  poem  is  headed  The 
aunswe  to  M':  Diers  ditie  and  begins  with  thefollg  additional  stama 

Thonghe  lowest  trees  hane  topps,  y"  Ante  some  gall, 
The  flie  some  spleene,  y*  sparke  some  little  heat : 
Though  slender  heares  cast  shadowes,  yet  but  small. 
Though  Bees  hane  stinges,  alas  they  are  not  great. 
&as  hane  their  sourse,  vnlike  to  shallow  springs: 
And  lone  vnlike,  in  Beggers  and  in  Kinges. 

4  with  161 1,  RawL  MS,  148 :  which  160a  7  brest  Rawl,  MS,  148  10 

mighty  Oakes]  cnrled  lockes  Rawl,  MS,  148  11  cure]  Antes  Rawl,  MS,  148 

15  slide]  glide  Rawl,  MS,  148  16  course]  source  Rawl,  MS,  148  18 

force]  course  Rawl.  MS,  148  ao  mighty]  royall  Rawl.  MS,  148  ai  set 

f^.  seat,  as  Rawl,  MS,  148         34  grasse]  meat  Rawl.  MS,  148  37  Anomos] 

unsigned  in  later  eds,  of 'Poet,  Raps  J  and  Rawl.  MS.  148 


I  1   2 


484  POEMS 

42.  (From  John  DowUad*s  Second  Booke  of  Songs  or  Ayres^  1600 :  Na  9.) 

Praise  blindnesse  eies,  for  seeing  is  deceit, 
(SudtUy^  Bee  dumbe  vaine  tongue,  words  are  but  flattering  windes, 

p.48al.3i)  Breake  hart  &  bleed  for  ther  is  no  receit, 

To  purge  inconstancy  from  most  mens  mindes. 

And  so  I  wackt  amazd  and  could  not  moue,  5 

I  know  my  dreame  was  true,  and  yet  I  loue. 

And  if  thine  eares  false  Haralds  to  thy  hart, 

Conuey  into  thy  head  hopes  to  obtaine, 

Then  tell  thy  hearing  thou  art  deafe  by  art, 
{Euph.  ii.  Now  loue  is  art  that  wonted  to  be  plaine,  10 

57  if.  15  j^Q^  none  is  bald  except  they  see  his  braines,    {Euph.  ii.  48  1.  28; 

l?o.388t.a>  Affection  is  not  knowne  till  one  be  dead,  cLM.Bom.Luf,i) 

Reward  for  loue  are  labours  for  his  paines, 

Loues  quiuer  made  of  gold  his  shafts  of  leade. 

And  so  I  wackt  amazd  and  could  not  moue,  15 

I  know  my  dreame  was  true,  and  yet  I  loue. 


48.  (Prom  John  DowUukTs  Second Booke  0/ Songs  or  Ayres^  1600:  No.  ii.f 

If  fluds  of  teares  could  cleanse  my  follies  past, 
(^LovesMet,  And  smoakes  of  sighes  might  sacrifice  for  sinne, 

IT.  I.  ii-a ;  jf  groning  cries  might  salue  my  fault  at  last, 

ae\  Or  endles  mone,  for  error  pardon  win,  20 

Then  would  I  cry,  weepe,  sigh,  and  euer  mone. 
Mine  errors,  fault,  sins,  follies  past  and  gone. 

I  see  my  hopes  must  wither  in  their  bud, 

I  see  my  fauours  are  no  lasting  flowers, 

I  see  that  woords  will  breede  no  better  g^ood,  25 

Then  losse  of  time  and  lightening  but  at  houres. 

Thus  when  I  see  then  thus  I  say  therefore. 

That  fauours  hopes  and  words,  can  blinde  no  more. 

No.  43.  Also  in  Harl,  MS.  6910,/.  1 56,  and  printed  last  among  the  *  sundry  other 
rare  Sonnets  of  divers  Noblemen  and  Gentlemen  *  at  the  close  of  Ndsh*s  surrep- 
titious {J)  ed.  of  Sidney's  'Astrophel  and  Stella^  1591.  {^Pierce  PenmiUsse^*  SJL 
See,  1843,/.  xxi.)  In  *Sk.  Soc,  Papers*  vol,  i.  1844,  art,  xviii,  these  two  stcmsas 
were  printed  as  *  attributed  to  Thomas  Nash^*  ix.  by  Collier  in  op,  cit,^from  a  manu- 
script copy  in  one  of  Tanner's  books  in  the  Bodleian,  followed  by  the  first  steuua  of 
the  poem  Ictst  given  *  Praise  blindnesse/  ^^.,  which  the  writer  of  the  article,  *  G.  L^' 
rightly  suspected  to  belong  to  some  other  piece  23  their]  the  Ifarl,  MS.  24 
no]  not  He^l.  MS,        25  breede]  breath  J/arl.  MS,        a8  can]  shall  Har/,  MS, 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS  485 

44.  (From  John  Dowland's  Third  and  Lost  Booke  of  Songs 

or  Aires,  1603:  No.  i.)  iSudeley, 

Farewell  too  faire,  too  chaste  but  too  too  cniell,  80?^^^ 

Discretion  neuer  quenched  fire  with  swords:  iEuph,\\, 

Why  hast  thou  made  my  heart  thine  angers  fiiell,  90 1. 16; 

And  now  would  kill  my  passions  with  thy  words*  ^^^\'  ^j\^ 
This  is  prowd  beauties  true  anatamy,                               5  v.  3/  isy 

If  that  secure  seuere  in  secresie,  {EupA,  ii. 

farewell,  fexewell.  '7^  !!•  »'- 

9> 

Farewell  too  deare,  and  too  too  much  desired, 

Vnlesse  compassion  dwelt  more  neere  thy  heart: 

Loue  by  neglect  (though  constant)  oft  is  tired,  10 

And  forc't  from  blisse  vnwillingly  to  part. 

This  is  prowd  beauties  true  anatamy 

If  that  secure  seuere  in  secresie, 

farewell,  farewell. 

45.  (From  Robert  Jones'  First  Booke  of  Songes  &*  Ayres,  1600 :  No.  i.) 

A  Womans  looks  15 

Are  barbed  hooks. 

That  catch  by  art 

The  strongest  hart 
When  yet  they  spend  no  breath. 

But  let  them  speake  20 

&  sighing  break, 

Forth  into  teares. 

Their  words  are  speares 
Y^  wound  our  souls  to  death. 

The  rarest  wit  25 

Is  made  forget. 

And  like  a  child 

Is  oft  beguild, 
With  loues  sweete  seeming  baite : 

Loue  with  hb  rod  30 

So  like  a  God, 

Commands  the  mind, 

We  cannot  find 
Faire  shewes  hide  fowle  deceit. 

Time  that  all  thinges  35 

In  order  bringes. 


4S6  POEMS 

Hath  taught  me  now 

To  be  more  slow, 
In  gluing  faith  to  speech : 

Since  womens  wordes 

No  truth  affordes,  5 

And  when  they  kisse 

They  thinkc  by  this, 
Vs  men  to  ouer-reach. 

46.  (From  Robert  Jones*  First  Booke  of  Songes  &*  Ayres^  1600 :  No.  2.) 

(•^*'/'*'**  Fond  wanton  youths  make  loue  a  God, 

^ .  *  ^^  Which  after  proueth  ages  rod,  10 

Endim,  iii.  Their  youth,  their  time,  their  wit,  their  arte, 

4.ia3sqq.)  They  spend  m  seeking  of  their  smarte 

And  which  of  follies  is  the  chiefe. 
They  wooc  their  woe,  they  wedde  their  griefe. 

All  finde  it  so  who  wedded  are,  13 

Loues  sweetes  they  find  enfold  sowre  care: 
His  pleasures  pleasingst  in  the  eie. 
Which  tasted  once,  with  lothing  die: 

They  find  of  follies  tis  the  chiefe, 

Their  woe  to  wooe  to  wedde  their  griefe.  20 

If  for  their  owne  content  they  choose, 
{Euph,  ii.  Forthwith  their  kindreds  loue  they  loose  : 

aao  ll.  3a  And  if  their  kindred  they  content, 

*^^*^  For  euer  after  they  repent. 

O  tis  of  all  our  follies  chiefe,  25 

Our  woe  to  wooe  to  wedde  our  griefe. 

In  bed  what  strifes  are  bred  by  day, 
Our  puling  wiues  doe  open  lay: 
None  friendes  none  foes  we  must  esteeme, 
But  whome  they  so  vouchsafe  to  deeme:  30 

O  tis  of  all  our  follies  chiefe. 
Our  woe  to  wooe  to  wedde  our  griefe. 

Their  smiles  we  want  if  ought  they  want, 
And  either  we  their  wils  must  grant, 

CPaMe  p.  ^^  ^'^  *^®y  ^^^  ^^  ^"^  ^^  child,  35 

4111L3-4)  Their  longings  must  not  be  beguild: 

O  tis  of  all  our  follies  chiefe, 

Our  woe  to  woo  to  wedde  our  griefe. 

36  longings]  langhings  Songbook 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS  487 

Foule  wiues  are  iealous,  £aire  wiues  falst,  {Levts 

Manage  to  either  bindes  vs  thrall :  iasH)>  ^* 

Wherefore  being  bound  we  must  obey, 
And  forced  be  perforce  to  say: 

Of  all  our  blisse  it  is  the  chiefe,  5 

Our  woe  to  wooe  to  wed  our  griefe. 


47.  (From  Robert  Jones'  First  Booke  of  Songes  6r*  Ayres^  1600 :  No.  4.)      (Cf.  No. 

Once  did  I  loue  and  yet  I  liue,  ^^' 

Though  loue  &  truth  be  now  forgotten. 
Then  did  I  ioy  nowe  doe  I  grieue. 

That  holy  vows  must  needs  be  broken.  10 

Hers  be  the  blame  that  caused  it  so, 

Mine  be  the  griefe  though  it  be  little, 
Shee  shall  haue  shame  I  cause  to  know: 

What  tis  to  loue  a  dame  so  fickle.  (Euph,  i. 

Loue  her  that  list  1  am  content,  15   gqq.) 

For  that  Camelion  like  shee  changeth,  (Endim, 

Yeelding  such  mistes  as  may  preuent:  **•  '*^^ 

My  sight  to  view  her  when  she  rangeth.  (No.  19 

St.  6> 

Let  him  not  vaunt  that  gaines  my  losse,  v^*  *^*  7/ 

For  when  that  he  and  time  hath  prouM  her,  20  (^Euph,  IL 

Shee  may  him  bring  to  weeping  crosse :  a8  1.  36) 

I  say  no  more  because  I  lou'd  her. 


48,  (From  Robert  Jones*  First  Booke  of  Sofiges  &*  Ayres^  1600 :  No.  7.) 

Where  lingring  feare  doth  once  posses  the  hart,  (Cf.No.  17 

There  is  the  toong  p^  ^^'\ 

Forst  to  prolong,  25      ^         ' 

&  smother  vp  his  suite,  while  that  his  smart. 

Like  fire  supprest,  flames  more  in  euery  part.  (^EuphA, 

aio  1.  21} 

Who  dares  not  speake  deserues  not  his  desire,  (Cf.  No. 

The  Boldest  face,  »^> 

Findeth  most  g^ce:  30 

Though  women  loue  that  men  should  the  admire. 

They  slily  laugh  at  him  dares  come  no  higher. 


No 
No 


•  '♦I  I  Also  given  in  Sullen*  s  '  Lyrics  from  Elizabethan  Song-Books*  \^  j|j 


488  POEMS 

(5!a/^i.  4.  Some  thinke  a  glaunce  expressed  by  a  sigh, 

37-40)  Winning  the  field, 

Maketh  them  yeeld: 
But  while  these  glauncing  fooles  do  xowle  the  eie. 
They  beate  the  bush,  away  the  bird  doth  flie.  5 

A  gentle  hart  in  vertuous  breast  doth  stay, 

Pitty  doth  dwell. 
In  beauties  cell: 
{/b.  11.  41  A  womans  hart  doth  not  thogh  tong  say  nay 

*^^*)  Repentance  taught  me  this  the  other  day.  10 

Which  had  I  wist  I  presently  had  got, 

The  pleasing  fruite, 

Of  my  long  suite: 

But  time  hath  now  beguild  me  of  this  lot, 

{letter,  YoT  that  by  his  foretop  I  tooke  him  not  15 

▼oL  I.  p. 
390  and 
passim) 

49.  (From  Robert  Jones'  Firsf  Booke  of  Songes  &*  Ayres^  1600 :  No.  8.) 

Hero  care  not  though  they  prie, 
I  will  loue  thee  till  I  die, 
lelousie  is  but  a  smart. 
That  tormentes  a  ielous  hart: 

Crowes  are  blacke  that  were  white,  20 

For  betraying  loues  delight. 

They  that  loue  to  finde  a  fault. 
May  repent  what  they  haue  sought. 
What  the  fond  eie  hath  not  viewed, 
3  II*  5-7)  Neuer  wretched  hart  hath  rew'd :  25 

Vulcan  then,  prou*d  a  scome, 
When  he  saw  he  wore  a  home. 


iEuph,  ii. 
6a  11.  5-7) 


Doth  it  then  by  might  behoue. 

To  shut  vp  the  gates  of  loue, 
iEuph,  ii.  Women  arc  not  kept  by  force,  30 

2a611«ia-  But  by  natures  owne  remorse. 

^  If  they  list,  they  will  stray, 

Who  can  hold  that  will  away. 

(Often)  loue  in  golden  shower  obtained, 

His  loue  in  a  towre  restrained,-  35 

So  perhaps  if  I  could  doe, 

I  might  hold  my  sweete  loue  to: 
Gold  keepe  out  at  the  doore, 
I  haue  loue  that  conquers  more. 


LATER  LOVE-POEMS  489 

Wherefore  did  they  not  suspect, 

When  it  was  to  some  effect, 

Euery  little  glimmering  sparke,  (^Euph,  ii. 

Is  perceiued  in  the  darke :  9^  !•  7) 

This  is  right,  howlets  kinde,  5 

See  by  night,  by  day  be  blinde. 

50.  (From  Rob«rt  ^kxma'  First  Booke  0/  Songes  &*  Ayres^  1600:  No.  9.) 

W^hen  loue  on  time  and  measure  makes  his  ground, 

Time  that  must  end  though  loue  can  neuer  die, 

Tis  loue  betwixt  a  shadow  and  a  sound, 

A  loue  not  in  the  hart  but  in  the  eie,  10 

A  loue  that  ebbes  and  flowes  now  vp  now  downe, 

A  mornings  fauor  and  an  euenings  frowne. 

Sweete  lookes  shew  loue,  yet  they  are  but  as  beames, 

Faire  wordes  seeme  true,  yet  they  are  but  as  wind, 

Eies  shed  their  teares  yet  are  but  outward  streames:  15 

Sighes  paint  a  sadnes  in  the  falsest  minde. 

Lookes,  wordes,  teares,  sighes,  shew  loue  when  loue  they  leaue, 

False  harts  can  weepe,  sigh,  sweare,  and  yet  deceiue. 

5L  (From  Robert  Jonca* /^f'r^/  Bookt  of  SoHges  &*  Ayres^  1600:  No.  1 1.) 

W^omen,  what  are  they,  changing  weather-cocks. 

That  smallest  puiTes  of  lust  haue  power  to  tume,  20 

Women  what  are  they,  vertues  stumbling  blockes. 

Whereat  weake  fooles  doe  fall,  the  wiser  spume. 

Wee  men,  what  are  wee,  fooles  and  idle  boies,  ^  For  the 

To  spend  our  time  in  sporting  with  such  toies.  pnncf. 

,    ^  ,  •    .    ,  Eupk.  i. 

Women  what  are  they?  trees  whose  outward  nnde,  25   241  1.  ia> 

Makes  shew  for  faire  when  inward  hart  is  hollow: 

Women  what  are  they  ?   beasts  of  Hiasnaes  kinde,  (Eufk.  i. 

That  speak  those  fairst,  who  most  they  meane  to  swallow :  *5o  11.  8- 

We  men  what  are  wee?  fooles  and  idle  boies,  ^ 

To  spend  our  time  in  sporting  with  such  toies.  30 

Women  what  are  they?   rocks  vpon  the  coast. 
Where  on  we  suffer  shipwracke  at  our  landing: 


No.  50.  The  first  stanta  is  given  in  Rowlinson  MS,  Poet,  I48»/.  59  headed  Uni, 


given 

Also  given  in  Bullen's  *  Lyrics  from  EUuMhan  Song-Books^  p.  136 

hallow  Songbook 


49©  POEMS 

Women  what  are  they?   patient  creatures  most, 
That  rather  yeld  the  striue  gainst  ought  withstading 
We  men  what  are  wee?   fooles  and  idle  boies, 
To  spend  our  time  in  sporting  with  such  toies. 

62.  (From  Robert  Jonea'  First  Booke  of  Sofiges  &*  Ayres,  1600 :  No.  14.) 

{Euph,  u  If  fathers  knew  but  how  to  leaue  5 

185  11.  II-  Their  children  wit  as  they  do  wealth, 

a,ao    .37;  ^  could  constraine  them  to  receiue 

That  physicke  which  brings  perfect  health, 
Y®  world  would  not  admiring  stand, 
A  womans  face  and  womans  hand.  10 

Women  confesse  they  must  obey, 
We  men  will  needes  be  seruants  still : 
We  kisse  their  hands  and  what  they  say, 
We  must  commend  bee  *t  neuer  so  ill. 

Thus  we  like  fooles  admiring  stand,  15 

Her  pretty  foote  and  pretty  hand. 

We  blame  their  pride  which  we  increase, 
By  making  mountaines  of  a  mouse : 
We  praise  because  we-  know  we  please : 
Poore  women  are  too  credulous  20 

To  thinke  that  we  admiring  stand. 
Or  foote,  or  face,  or  foolish  hand. 

58.  (From  Robert  Jonea'  Muses  GordinfoT  Delights^  1610.) 

The  fountaines  smoake,  and  yet  no  flames  they  shewe, 
(No.  54  Staries  shine  all  night,  though  undesem*d  by  day, 

'  And  trees  doe  spring,  yet  are  not  seene  to  growe,  25 

^^J'f^'  "'  ^^  shadowes  moove,  although  they  seeme  to  stay, 

JJq  i'  J\  In  Winter's  woe  is  buried  Summer's  blisse, 

(Cf.  Eupk.  And  Love  loves  most,  when  Love  most  secret  is. 

li.  175-6 

andNo44)  The  stillest  streames  descries  the  greatest  deepe, 

^^T      "  '^^^  clearest  skie  is  subject  to  a  shower,  30 

5  !•  33)  Conceit's  most  sweete,  whenas  it  seemes  to  sleepe, 

And  fairest  dayes  doe  in  the  morning  lower ; 
The  silent  groves  sweete  nimphes  they  cannot  misse. 
For  Love  loves  most,  where  Love  most  secret  is. 

No.  5a.  Also  given  in  Bullen's  ^Lyrics  frotn  Elizabethan  Song-Bocks,^  p.  50 
No.  53.  Reprinted  in  ^Ancient  Ballads  and  Songs ^  p,  56 


< 

% 


LATER  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  491 

The  rarest  jewels  hidden  vertue  yeeld. 

The  sweete  of  traffique  is  a  secret  gaine, 
The  yeere  once  old  doth  shew  a  barren  field, 
And  plants  seeme  dead,  and  yet  they  spring  againe ; 
Cupid  is  blind,  the  reason  why  is  this:  5 

Love  loveth  most,  where  Love  most  secret  is. 


V.   Later  Autobiographical:    i 595-1600? 

54.  (From  HarL  MS.  6910,  ff.  126-7.) 

Where  wardes  are  weake,  and  foes  encountering  strong : 

Wher  mightier  doe  assault,  then  do  defend: 

The  feebler  part  puts  vp  enforced  wrong, 

And  silent  sees,  that  speach  could  not  amend.  10 

Yet  higher  powers  must  thinke  though  they  repine, 

When  Sunne  is  set:  the  litle  starres  will  shine. 

(No.  53  I. 

While  Pike  doth  range,  the  silly  Tench  doth  flye,  »4> 

And  crouch  in  priuie  creekes,  with  smaler  fish: 

Yet  Pikes  are  caught  when  litle  fish  goe  bye:  15 

These,  fieete  a  flote  ;  while  those,  doe  fill  the  dish. 

There  is  a  tyme  euen  for  the  wormes  to  creepe : 

And  sucke  the  dew  while  all  their  foes  doe  sleepe. 

The  Marlyne  cannot  euer  sore  on  high. 

Nor  greedie  Grey-hound  still  pursue  the  chase:  20 

The  tender  Larke  will  fynde  a  tyme  to  fiie. 

And  fearful!  Hare  to  runne  a  quiet  race. 

He  that  high  growth  on  Ceders  did  bestow: 

Gaue  also  lowly  Mushrumpts  leaue  to  grow. 

Wee  trample  grasse,  and  prize  the  flowers  of  May :  25 

Yet  grasse  is  greene,  when  flowers  do  fade  away. 

No.  54.  Also  in  Addit.  MS.  iifioi.f.  71  v.  7  wardes]  words  Add,  MS. 

incouter  Add.  MS.      8  doe  . . .  then]  doth  . . .  and  Add.  MS,       14  secreat  holes 
Add.  MS,  19  alwaies  Add.  MS.  25  Wee  . . .  away]  this  closing 

couplet  is  replaced  in  Add.  MS.  by  the  foil,  additional  stanza 

The  Sea  of  fortune  doth  not  euer  flowe 

she  drawes  hir  fauo^  to  j*  lowest  ebb 

Hir  Tides  hath  eqoall  tyme  to  cofile  8c  goe 

Hir  Lome  doth  weaue  j*  coarse  8c  finest  webb 

No  joy  so  great  bat  ronneth  to  an  end 

No  happ  so  hard  bot  may  in  fine  amende. 


492  POEMS 

66.  (From  John  Dowland's  First  Booke  of  SoHges  or  A/reSf  1597  : 

No.  14.) 

Al  ye  who  loue  or  fortune  hath  betndde, 

All  ye  that  dreame  of  blisse  but  Hue  in  greif, 

Al  ye  whose  hopes  are  euermore  delaid, 

Al  ye  whose  sighes  or  sicknes  wants  releife: 

Lend  eares  and  teares  to  me  most  haples  man,  5 

That  sings  my  sorrowes  like  the  dying  Swanne. 

Care  that  consumes  the  heart  with  inward  paine, 

Paine  that  presents  sad  care  in  outward  vew, 

Both  tyrant  like  enforce  me  to  complaine> 

But  still  in  vaine,  for  none  my  plaints  will  rue,  10 

Teares,  sighes,  and  ceaseles  cries  alone  I  spend, 

My  woe  wants  comfort,  and  my  sorrow  end. 


66.  (From  John  DowUad's  First  Booke  of  Sofiges  or  AyreSf  1 597 : 

No.  2a) 

Come  heauy  sleepe,  y^  Image  of  true  death : 
And  close  vp  these  my  weary  weeping  eyes, 
Whose  spring  of  tears  doth  stop  my  vitall  breath,  15 

And  tears  my  hart  with  sorrows  sigh  swoln  crys: 
^^o.  66  11.  Com  &  posses'  my  tired  thoghts,  wome  soule, 

4~5)  That  lining  dies,  till  thou  on  me  be  stoule. 

Come  shadow  of  my  end :  and  shape  of  rest, 

Alied  to  death,  child  to  this  black  fast  night,  20 

Come  thou  and  charme  these  rebels  in  my  brest. 

Whose  waking  fancies  doth  my  mind  affright. 

O  come  sweet  sleepe,  come  or  I  die  for  euer, 

Come  ere  my  last  sleepe  coms,  or  <else)  come  neuer. 


67.  (From  Addit,  MS.  22,601,  f.  61  v.) 

Conceminge  his  suit  &  attendauce  at  y*  Courte.  25 

Moste  miserable  man,  whoAe  wretched  fate 

hath  brought  to  Court,  to  sue  for  Had-I-wist: 

that  few  haue  found,  &  many  one  haue  mist. 

Full  little  knowest  thou,  that  hast  not  tride 

what  Hell  it  is,  in  suinge  longe  to  bide.  30 

To  loose  good  dayes,  that  mighte  be  better  spent, 

to  waste  longe  nightes  in  pensiue  discontent. 


LATER  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  493 

To  speed  to  day,  &  be  put  back  to  morrowe, 

Now  fcdd  w^  hope,  now  Crost  w***  wailful!  sorrow 

To  haue  thy  Princes  grace  yet  want  hir  Peeres, 

to  haue  thy  askinge,  yet  waite  many  yeres. 

To  frett  thy  soule  with  Crosses  &  w-^  cares,  5 

to  eat  thy  hart  w^  Comfortless  dispaires: 

To  fawne,  to  crouche,  to  waite,  to  bide,  to  run: 

To  spend,  to  giue,  to  want,  to  be  vndon. 

Vnhappy  wighte,  borne  to  disastrous  end: 

That  doth  his  life,  in  so  longe  tendance  spend.  10 

Pereunt  nil  pariunt  Anni, 

verte 

58.  (From  Addif,  MS.  22,601,  f.  62.) 

The  thundringe  God  whose  all-embracinge  powre 

Circles  ye  modeU  of  this  spatious  rounde 

When  first  he  framed  old  Adams  earthly  bowre  15 

ordain'd  all  thinges  t^'  Emperiall  vaile  doth  bound 

Should  lend  their  aide  to  others  mutuallie 

but  all  combinde  seme  man  continuallie. 

So  heau'n  w*i»  heate,  the  dankish  aire  w***  dew 

this  solid  element  of  Earth  reuiue  20 

with  gentle  warm'th  &  robes  of  verdant  hew 

on  w*^*»  y«  homed  Kyne  &  sheepe  do  Hue 

And  as  those  bodies  ministred  their  good 

So  they  againe  do  tume  to  humane  foode. 

Man  seru*d  of  all,  sem'd  none  of  all  but  God  25 

but  mighte  his  pleasures  take  w^^out  controule 

Saue  onely  what  Jehouah  had  forbod 

the  carefuU  Soueraigne  of  his  simple  soule. 

This  was  y«  age  wise  Poets  term'd  of  gold 

for  liberty  in  dearest  prize  they  holde.  30 

But  theis  succeedinge  Seasons  arm'd  in  Steele, 

Tramples  hir  downe  &  in  tryumphant  sorte 

Not  fearinge  like  contempts  of  fate  to  feele 

Leades  hir  as  Captiue,  mate  to  poorest  sorte 

Yet  Patience  promised  Liberty  distrest  35 

should  reape  for  paine,  a  gayne,  for  vnrest,  rest. 

\ych  Prophesy  of  hirs  indeede  mighte  seme 
for  a  perswation  that  my  semice  done 

13  vcrte]  No.  ^follcnvs  immediatefy  in  MS.,/,  6a  r. 


494  POEMS 

would  at  y^  length  enfranchisem^  desenie 
w**»  aunsw'  to  mine  expectation. 
{Beg,  St,  g}  But  when  I  thinke  twas  Patience  y^  spoke 

the  golden  vessell  of  my  hope  is  broke. 

For  she's  a  Sainte  &  scominge  vniust  earth 
is  fledd  to  heau'n.    All  vertues  are  ingros*t 
In  Gods  owne  hand,  tis  y*  w®**  breedes  y*  dearth 
of  due  rewardes,  &  makes  my  labour  lost 
Or  at  y®  moste  repaies  my  louinge  minde 
w^  large  delayes,  vaine  wordes  &  some  vnkinde. 

Since  then  y«  first  worlde  can  not  be  recald 
nor  this  our  rusty  Iron  age  refinde 
Since  Patience  is  in  starry  heau*n  instald 
Let  euery  Seruitour  beare  this  in  minde 
*'  That  howsoeu'r  he  seme,  obserue,  deserue 

{BeefStAiy  if  nought  but  Aire  he  purchase  he  may  sterue. 

I 

i*  Sarrire  quam  seruire  satius. 


59.  (Prom  Egerton  MS,  923,  ff.  5-7.) 

<The  Bee.) 

It  was  a  tyme  when  silly  Bees  could  speake 
and  in  that  time  I  was  a  silly  Bee 
who  suckt  on  time,  vntill  the  hart  gan  breake 
yet  never  founde  that  tyme  would  fauour  me 
Of  all  the  swarme  I  onely  could  not  thriue 
yet  brought  I  wax  &  honey  to  y^  hiue 

Then  thus  I  busd  when  time  no  sap  would  giue 
;^  {Euph,  i.  Why  is  this  blessed  tyme  to  me  so  dry 

f,  ^?^      ^'"  Sith  in  this  tyme,  y«  lazie  Drone  doth  Hue 

i,  y®  waspe,  y*  worme,  y®  Gnat,  y*  butterfly 

.;  Mated  w***  greif  I  kneeled  on  my  knees 

\\  And  thus  complain'd  vnto  y*  King  o(f)  Bees 


My  leige  god  grant  thy  time  may  haue  no  end 
and  yet  vouchsafe  to  heare  my  plaint  of  tyme 


No.  59.  For  titles  in  various  MSS.  see  Introd.  pp,  445-6        18  It]  There  Kaw 
112,  ^/.,  Add.        silly]  om,  SL  ao  on]  no  Eg,       the  .  .  .  gan]  my  .  .  .  di 

rest  33  I]  l>oth  Add.  26  lazie  .  .  .  Hue]  basy  .  .  .  Hue  Tann. 

happy  . .  .  thryve  Rawl.  112  27  worme]  Ante  SI.  28  Mated]  I 

\^  a  tyme  SI.  28-9  I  kneeled  .  .  .  And]  lowe  bended  ...  I  Rawl,  17a  2 

Qnene  Rawl.  112  30  haue  no]  neuer  rest  31  yet  ...  of]  eake  nc 

fayle  to  heare  my  playneing  Ashm, 


LATER  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  495 

Synce  every  fniillesse  fly  hath  found  a  freind 

&  I  cast  downe  while  Atlomies  doc  clyme 

The  king  replide  but  thus,  peace  peevish  Bee 
Thou  art  home  to  serve  the  time,  y"  time  not  thee 

The  time  not  thee,  this  word  dipt  short  my  wings  5 

And  made  me  worme-like  creepe  y'  once  did  fly 

Awfull  regard  disputeth  not  w*''  kings 

Receauethe  a  Repulae  not  asking  why? 

Then  from  Ihe  tyme,  I  for  a  tyme  w'Mrew 

To  feed  on  Henbane,  Hemlock,  Nettles,  Rue,  10 

But  from  those  leaues  no  dram  of  swecte  I  drayne 

their  head  strong  furry  did  my  head  bewitch  .  „  ^  , 

The  iuice  disperst  black  bloud  in  every  veine  »i8L  ia) 

for  hony  gall,  for  wast  I  gathered  pitch  (No.  39 

My  Combe  a  Rift,  my  hiue  a  leafe  must  bee  ij   *^^i?^ 

so  chang'd ;  that  Bees  scarce  took  me  for  a  Bee 

1  work  on  weedes  when  Moone  is  in  y*  waine  {EuM.  it. 

whilst  all  y'  swarme  in  sunnshine  tast  y*  rose  J/ii'    a 

onn  black  Roote  feme  I  silt  &  sucke  my  baine  f  ,^\  *^ 

whibt  on  y*  Eglentine  the  rest  repose  30  (TiUyartl, 

haueing  too  much  they  still  repine  for  more  ^^JA  *°^' 

&  cloyd  w*"  fullnes  surfeit  on  y""  store  -igv  '  **' 

Swolne  fait  w">  feasts  full  merrily  they  passe 

In  sweetned  Clusters  falling  from  y*  tree 

where  finding  me  to  nibble  on  y*  grasse  35 

1  Synce  . .  .  foDad}  W^  , ,  .  fonnd  Tann. ;  When  evenr  fiyntest  flyc  rwy  fjnd 
Xawl.  Ill:  Whome  euery  feaielesK  flye  moy  ryriil  SI. :  In  «ni  ech  fmitleue  flye 
may  fynd //<>''/.  6910  3  while  ...  clyme]  in  cheifeit  of  my  prime  ^mM. 

17a  3  but]  by  A'^.  4  Th'art  home  ^lAm.  5  cult  J/.  6  Uoope 

JIarl.6^10,  II J7,  Tann.,  Xawl.  na,  17a  7  Wne*]  things  f;.  8  Re- 

ceiueth  the  repnlse  yet  nenci  uketh  whye  SI. :  Recclues  repulse  daies  uke  no 
Reason  why  Add. :  Keceian  rcpulw  St  neaer  atheth  why //ar/. 691a,  Jiij,j1siin.: 
Receiuex  lebakes  but  neuer  askctb  why  kauil.  tii :  fiat  doth  repnlie  &  nener 
asketh  why  Taitn.  9  Then  ...  a  tyme  I  me  Taroi.,  Harl.  11J7,  SL,  Add.-. 

Then  . . .  forthw'h  T  me  Harl.  6910,  Kawl.  17]  :  Then  for  y*  I  mee  frame  tyme 
RoTfl.  Ill      fram]  for  Eg.  10  Ketlle»]  yatruw  Ravil.  ili  11-6  Bn;  ... 

for  a  lite]  Mii  n.  oi.fy  in  Eg.,  Rawl.  1 +«,  SI.,  Colliers  MS.  11  dnyne]  draw  Eg. 
u  ffortune  Kawl.  148,  SI.  15  aiift  Kawl.  148  17  I .  . ,  wiine]  Athm. 

om.,  inscrling as  4''  /.  To  light  on  wormewoode  luinei  they  me  conitniyne  work 
.  .  .is]  work!  on  woal  .  .  .  was  Tann.:  &Dckl  the  .  .  .yitsKawl.  Ill  It) 

Bwarrael  re*t  Kawl.  lU         tast  y*]  suck  \ht  Ad,!.:  tailed  Kawl.  ill  19  onn] 

me  ffarl.  6gio  Roote     ..silt]  toott  .  .  .  fctVt  Kajfl.  \i,%.  Harl.  iii-„  Adit. 

Tann.:  fecneloc  1  seckc  .¥/. :  feme  rnotcs  I  seek  10  snuk  KauJ.  Ii>,  171  ai 

they  . .  .  repine]  ycl  still  Ihey  gape  Add.  11  fnllnes  £g.,  Rajvl.  l+f 


rtsi   on]  in  Kavil.  na,  14S,  Adil.        14  In]  On  Kajiil.  148      iwretneil]  swarming 

■■    ■.  6oio,aTa7,yP™/.n3.  17a:  swarmeiand.iV.  f 

y»]  on  • /^af/.  6910,  aia;,  Tann.,  Aikm.,  Add.,SI. 


Harl.  6010,  aTa7,  Kn-wl.  na,  17a:  iwarmei  and  SI.  falling]  feedinge  Aihm. 

from  y*]  ("  -"-''-     ■^--        ■-■        •  -i    — 


496  POEMS 

some  scome,  some  muse,  &  some  doe  pitty  me 
And  some  envy  &  whisper  to  the  king 
Some  must  be  still  &  some  must  haue  no  sting 

{Euph,  i.  Are  Bees  waxt  waspes,  or  spiders  to  infect 

\^.. ')  a  Doe  hony  bowells  make  y*  sperit  gall 

1  ?6"&cS  ^^  ^^^^  y*  ^^^®  ^^  flowers  to  stir  suspect 

1st  not  enought  to  tread  on  them  that  fall 

what  sting  hath  patience  but  a  sighing  grief 
That  sting(s>  nought  but  itselfe  w^^out  Relief 

True  patience  y«  prouender  of  fooles 
sad  patience  that  waiteth  at  the  doore 
Patience  y*  leames  thus  to  conclude  in  schools 
</^.  it  169  Patience  I  am  therefore  I  must  be  poore 

1,  as  and  Great  king  of  Bees  y*  rightest  euery  wrong 

]^te    S^  Listen  to  patience  in  her  dying  song 

p.  393).  I  cannot  feed  on  fennell  like  some  flyes 

fo-'  \  ^^^  ^y  ^^  euery  flower  to  gather  gaine 

myne  appetite  waites  on  my  prince  his  eyes 
Contented  with  contempt,  &  pleased  w***  payne 
and  yet  expecting  of  an  happy  houre 
when  he  shall  say  this  Bee  shall  suck  a  flower 

Of  all  the  greifes  y^  must  my  patience  grate 
there's  one  that  fretteth  in  y*  high*st  degjree 
To  see  some  Catterpillers  bred  vp  of  late 
cropping  the  fruit  y*  should  sustaine  y*  Bee 
(^Euph,  i.  yet  smiled  I,  for  y^  the  wisest  knowes 

aaS  I.  28.  that  mothes  doe  frett  y*  Clothe  Canker  y«  Rose 


P-  473  1. 5> 


I  scome]  scomes  Harl,  6910:  scorned  Tann,\  storme  RawL  11  a.  Ash. 
a  envyed,  &  whispered  HarL  6910,  Rawl,  173,  Add,\  me  be/,  envie  HcltI,  an 
S/.f  Tann.  3  still]  kild  RawL  148  4  infect  Eg.^  SI. :  aflicte  rest  5  Do 
Honny  bowell  &  HarL  6910  6  stir]  stnre  HarL  6910 :  mone  RawL  i  la  :  f 
Tann,  7  on]  no  Eg,  them]  him  HarL  6910  8  sighing]  sigfae  and  Si 
stinginge  Ashm,:  lingring  HarL  6910:  single  Tann,  9  nought  but  it]  n 

bat  it  HarL  6gio:  none  but  my  RawL  iia  itselfe  and  yealded  no  sel 

releefe  Ashm,        10  True  patience  ^r .]  //.  1-4  are  thus  in  Ashm, 

Sad  patience,  that  attendeth  at  the  dore, 

And  teacheth  wise-men  thus  conclude  in  schooles: 

Patience  I  am,  and  therfore  must  be  poore: 

Fortune  bestowes  her  riches  not  on  fooles. 
y*]  is  fitt  SL  11  that ...  at]  watcheth  still,  and  keepes  SL  13  Patiei 

RawL  148,  17a,  Harl,  3127  14  Great  king]  Great  Queue  Rawl,  iia  :  Gremte 
RawL  173  rightest  euery]  onely  rightest  HarL  6910,  2127,  Rawl,  iia,  ij 

15  Harken  RawL  17a  t6  Hemlodc  SL  x8  tendes  Ashm,  ao  expectk 
of]  expectinge  for  Tann.,  RawL  1 1  a :  I  still  expect  SL :  expecting  sncn  Ad 
ai  he  shall  say]  shee  may  say  SI,,  Tann, :  it  shalbe  sayde  RawL  11a  a  a  mn 
Eg, :  doe  RawL  148,  Ashm, :  most  rest  34  bred  vp]  vpstart  RawL  iia  :  hire 
RawL  173  :  birde  bredd  SL  36  smiled  I]  sighed  I  Rawl,  1 73  {am,  for  that)  :  sml 
I  maye  RawL  lis:  did  I  smile  RawL  14& :  singled  1  SL  37  doe  frett]  will  ea 
SL,  HarLf  Add,,  Rawl,  113,173       Mothes  eate  the  cloth,  cankers  consunce  Ashii 


5 


LATER  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  497 

Once  did  I  see  by  flying  in  the  feild 

fowle  beasts  to  browse  vpon  y*  Lilly  fayre 

Virtue  &  beauty  could  noe  succour  yeild 

All's  prouender  for  Asses,  but  the  ayre 

the  partiall  world  of  this  takes  litle  heed 

to  giue  them  flowers  y^  should  on  thistles  feed 

This  onely  I  must  draine  iEgiptian  flowers 
haueing  noe  sauo',  bitter  sap  they  haue 
&  seeke  out  Rotten  Tombes  &  dead  mens  bowers 
and  bite  on  nightshade  growing  by  the  graue 

If  this  I  cannot  haue,  as  hapless  Bee 

witching  Tobacco  I  will  fly  to  thee 

what  thoughe  thou  dy  mens  lungs  in  deepest  black 

A  mourning  habitt  suites  a  sable  hart 

what  if  thy  fumes  sound  memory  doe  crack  1 5 

fforgettfuUnes  is  fittest  for  my  smart 

6  vertuous  fume  let  it  be  graued  in  oke 

y*  wordes,  hopes,  witts  &  all  y«  worlds  but  smoke 

ffiue  yeares  twise  told  w**»  promises  p^fume 

my  hope  stuft  head  was  cast  into  a  slumber  20 

Sweete  dreames  of  gold,  on  dreames  I  then  p^sume 

&  mongst  y«  Bees  thoughe  I  were  in  y"  number 

waking  I  founde,  hiues  hopes  had  made  me  vaine 

Twas  not  Tobacco  stupifyed  y*  braine 

Ingenium,  studium,  nummos,  spem,  tempus,  amicos  25 

Cum  male  perdiderim :   perdere  verba  leue  est. 

2  Lillyes  rest  3  beauty]  bountie  Jiawl,  iia  5  of . .  .  litlel  takes  ve-y 

carelesse  i^jAwi.  7  This]  Tis^<i/.,  57^ /^or/.  2127  :  Thxxs  Tann.  8  Findinge 
Askm,  bitter  san^ffari.  0910  and  all,  except  better  sap  Rawl.  148,  better  say  Eg, 
9  out]  of  Harl.  6910  :  the  Add.  10  nightshade /Tar/.  6910,  KawL  17a  :  Lotos 

Kawl.  I  ^^y  I  Jar  I.  2127,  Tann.i  Pathos  Z:^.,  J7. :  wonnwood  ^^. :  withered  age 
growing  to  the  graue  Rawl.  112  graue]  ground  Harl.  6910  11  this  . . . 

haue]  these  . .  .  finde  SI,  I  om.  Eg,  as]  ah  Harl,  6910,  Rawl,  1 1  a,  172,  Askm,^ 
SI.  12  witching]  Wishing  Harl,  AfSS,:  Wished  Tanft,,  Add,:  Smokeing 

A' awl,  112  13  thoughe]  if //ar/.  6910  6^^.  mens^^. :  my  rest  14  A]  To 
Harl.  6910  (fc. :  Tis  Rawl,  112  15  sound]  some  Harl.  6910,  Aeld,^  Rawl, 

172:  my  Rawl.  iia  17  fume]  fame  Rawl,  148  :  flames  Rawl,  17a        graued 

Eg.  :  caru'd  rest  18  hopes]  healpe  Rawl,  17a  19  yeares]  tymes  SI. 

p*'fume]  perfumed  rest,  excpt,  vnperformcd  57.  ao  hope  stuft]  hopes  iust  SI. : 

stuft  head  om.  Rawl,  17a  21  dreames^]  draynes  Harl,  6910  ai  Amongst  rest 
Bees]  best  Rawl.  11  a  I  thought  myself  in  number  Rawl,  148  23  Waking 

&'c.']  Tann.  MS.  gives  the  couplet  Late  wakinge,  hyues,  hopes,  had  made  me 
vayne,  |  Was  but  Tobacco  stupyned  my  brayne.  Ashm,  gives  this  line  But  wakinge 
found  hyues,  hopes,  and  all  was  vayne  tjrmes  hopes  Harl,  6910  (/^. :  hie  hopes 
Raw!.  148  :  hiue,  but  hopes  SI,  24  not]  but  Tann,.,  Ashm, :  Don  Rawl,  17a 

stupifyed]  had  so  stupifyed  Sl,\  had  snpplyed  Rawl,  112  25-6  Rawl,  MS, 

148  only  {altered  from  Ov.  *Her*  vii.  5-0),  followed  by  translcUion  {an  English 
quatrain)  signed  Eng^,  Lv.  AiAAiar. 


(^Eufh,  \, 
185 1.  I, 
a4a  1.  17, 
35iU.7-8> 

<P.498 


10  {Tiltyard, 
p.  415  U. 
14,  ao> 


<Biog. 
App.  Letter 

iii.  p.  .^93 ; 
and,  for  the 

language, 

vol.  ii.  37a, 

and  Euph. 

1.1941.17) 


BOND  III 


K  k 


49^  POEMS 

60.  (From  Rcnvlinson  MS,  Poet,  148,  f.  32  v.) 

(-5^^,st.ia>  In  Thesaly,  ther  Asses  fine  are  kept, 

fayre,  smoth,  plump,  fat  and  full : 
The  mangers  they  are  fild,  y^  stables  clenly  swept 
And  yet  their  pace  is  very  slow  and  dull. 
So  sotes  oft  tymes  haue  vnto  honour  crept,  5 

when  wiser  men  haue  hadd  a  coulder  pull, 
If  Asses  haue  such  luck  what  shall  I  say  ? 

<No.  64  Let  Scollers  bume  their  bookes  &  goe  to  play. 

»^-  ^>  finis. 

ei.  {Ibid.) 

As  oft  we  see  before  a  sudden  showre,  10 

The  sunne  shines  hottest  &  hath  greatest  powre: 

£uen  so  whom  fortune  meaneth  to  deride. 

She  liftes  a  loft,  from  whence  he  soone  may  slide. 

62.  {Ibid:) 

{Euph,  i.  Princes  be  fortunes  children,  &  with  them 

a77  ^- ^4»  she  deales  as  mothers  vse  their  babes  to  still:  15 

•  ^  •  35/  Vnto  her  darlings  giues  a  diadem, 

A  pretie  toy  their  humor  to  fulfill 
And  when  a  little  they  haue  had  their  will, 
Looke  what  she  gaue  she  taketh  at  her  pleasure  : 
Vsinge  the  rod,  when  they  are  out  of  measure.  20 

63.  (From  Rawlinson  MS,  Poet,  148,  f.  46  V.) 
{EndWi,^)  Ouer  theis  brookes,  trustinge  to  ease  myne  eyes. 

Mine  eyes  euen  great,  in  laboure  with  their  teares  : 
I  layde  my  face,  wherin  (alas)  ther  lies, 
Clusters  of  clowdes,  w«^  no  Sunne  euer  deeres. 
In  watrie  glasse,  my  watrie  eyes  I  see : 
Sorrowes  ill  easd,  wher  sorrowes  paynted  be. 

My  thoughtes  imprisned  in  my  secret  woes, 
(No.  23  With  fiamie  breastes  doe  issue  oft  in  sownde : 

'  The  sownde  to  this  strange  ay  re  no  sooner  goes. 

But  that  it  doth  with  £cch6s  force  rebownde.  30 

And  makes  me  heare,  y*  playntes  I  would  refrayne: 
Thus  outward  helpes,  my  inward  grifes  mayntayne. 

{MidAnXr,  Now  in  this  sand,  I  would  discharge  my  mynde, 

p.  109 1.14^  And  cast  from  me,  part  of  my  burd'nous  cares: 

17  their]  his  MS,  No.  63.  Also  in  Robert  Jones*  ^ Second  Booke  of  Songes  mmd 
Ayres^  1601 :  No,  11  a  a  their]  her  Songbook  23  wherein  (alas)  RatuL  MS. : 
my  face  wherein  Songbook  29  no  Songbook  :  om.  Rawl.  MS,  31  make 

Songbook 


25 


LATER  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  499 

Bat  in  the  sand,  my  T&les  foretold  I  fynde, 
And  see  therin,  how  well  y<  writer  fares. 

With  streame,  ayre,  sand,  myne  eyes  &  cars  conspire ; 

What  hope  to  quench,  wher  ech  tbinge  blowes  y*  fire. 

64.  {From  Harl.  MS.  figit^  f.  140.) 

Why  (jhe  rest  of  the  line  wanting  in  MS,')  S 

When  life  is  my  true  happinesse  disease? 
My  scale,  my  soule,  thy  saAie  makes  me  flie 
The  faalt  is  meanes,  that  might  my  payne  appease, 
(d  lint  wanting  in  MS.) 
But  in  my  hart  her  seuerall  tonnentes  dwell.  10 

Ah  wortblesse  witt  to  traine  mee  to  this  woe, 

Deceiptfull  arts  that  nourish  discontent : 

111  thriue  the  follie  that  bewitcht  me  so, 

Vaine  though(t)s  adiea  for  now  I  will  repent 

And  yet  my  wantes  perswade  me  to  proceed,  15 

Since  none  takes  pittie  one  a  Scholers  need. 

forgiue  me  God  althoagbt  I  curse  my  birth. 

And  ban  the  ayie  wherin  1  breath  a  wreatch: 

Since  miserie  hath  daunted  all  my  mirth, 

And  I  am  qaite  vndon  through  promisee  breach)  30 

Ob  frendes,  no  frendes  that  then  vn(kind)ly  frowne, 
When  changing  fortune  casts  vs  headlong  downe. 

Without  redresse  complains  my  carelesse  Verse, 

And  Mydas  eares  relent  not  at  my  moane 

In  some  fkrr  land  will  I  my  griefe  rehearse,  35 

Mongst  them  that  wilbec  mooued  when  I  groane, 
Ingland  adieu  the  soyle  that  brought  mee  forth 
Adieu  vnkinde  where  skill  is  no<t)hiDg  worth. 

66.  (Fiom  Rawlimon  MS.  Poet.  85,  foL  47.) 

Some  me  will  saye  (here  is  a  kynde  of  muse 

That  healps  the  mynde  of  eacbe  man  to  indyte  30 

And  some  will  saye  (that  oft  these  Muses  vse) 

There  are  but  Nyne  that  euer  vsed  to  wryte 

Now  of  these  nyne  if  I  haue  hytt  on  one 

1  muse  what  Muse  tis  I  haue  hytt  vpon. 

]  writer]  witen  Sengba^         3  With  itreamel  Since  ttreunes  JlrawAMf  4 

ccb  lbiiup!j  all  thds  aUemativ*  im  MS.  No.  65.  jIIk  in  Marl.  MS.  6910, 

«L  147-8 

Kk  2 


500  POEMS 

Some  poetes  wryte  there  is  a  heauenly  hyll 
Wher  Pallas  keeps:  and  it  Pemassus  hyghte 
There  Moses  sit  for-sothe,  and  cut  the  quyll 
That  beinge  framde  doth  hidden  fjemcyes  wiyte 
But  all  these  dames  diuyne  conceyts  do  synge 
And  aU  theyr  penns  be  of  a  phoenix  winge. 

Beleeue  me  now  I  neuer  sawe  the  place 
Vnless  in  sleepe  I  drem'de  of  suche  a  thynge 
I  neauer  vewed  fayre  Pallas  in  the  face 
Nor  neauer  yet  could  heare  the  Muses  synge 
Wherby  to  frame  a  fancye  in  her  kynde 
Oh  no !  my  muse  is  of  an  other  mynde. 

From  Hellicon  ?  no  no  from  Hell  she  came 
To  wryte  of  woes  and  myseryes(:)  she  hyghte 
Not  Pallas  but  Alass  hir  Ladyes  name 
Who  neuer  calles  for  dittyes  of  delyghte. 
f^g^^  Her  pen  is  Payne ;  and  all  her  matter  moane 

Met,  iy.  i.  And  pantynge  harts  she  paynts  her  mynd  vpon. 

9-io> 

{Sud,  pp.  A  harte  not  Harpe  is  all  her  instrumSt 

478  1.  33,  Whose  weakned  strynges  all  out  of  tune  she  strayns 

479  'IT/  ^nd  than  she  strikes  a  dumpe  of  discontente 

Tyll  euery  strynge  be  pluckt  in  two  with  paynes 
Than  in  a  rage  she  dapps  it  vpp  in  Case: 
That  you  maye  see  her  instruments  disgrace. 


ii8-9> 


(J-cves  Her  musick  is  in  sum  but  sorrowes  songe 

rfallv*  ''  Wher  discorde  yealds  a  sound  of  small  delyghte 

The  dittye  is :  o  lyfe  that  lastes  so  longe 
To  see  desyre  thus  crossed  w*^  despyte 
j  No  feythe  on  ear^:  alas  I  know  no  frendel^ 

So  with  a  syghe  she  makes  a  solem  ende. 


Vnpleasant  is  the  harmony  godd  knowes 
When  out  of  tune  is  allmost  euery  strynge 
The  sownde  vnsweet,  y*  all  of  sorrow  growes 
And  sadd  the  muse,  that  so  is  fourced  to  synge 

Yet  some  do  synge  that  else  for  woe  would  crye 
So  dothe  mye  Muse:  and  so,  I  sweare,  do  I. 

Finis. 

13  came.  Rami,  MS,  19  not  Harl,  MS, :  and  not  a  RawL  MS, 


LATER  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  501 

66.  (From  Robert  Jones'  First  Booke  of  Songes  fir*  Ayres,  1600 :  No.  6.) 

Lie  downe  poore  heart  and  die  a  while  for  griefe, 

Thinke  not  this  world  will  euer  do  thee  good, 

Fortune  forewames  y  looke  to  thy  reliefe, 

And  sorrow  sucks  vpon  thy  liuing  bloud, 

Then  this  is  all  can  helpe  thee  of  this  hell,  5 

Lie  downe  and  die,  and  then  thou  shalt  doe  welL 

Day  giues  his  light  but  to  thy  labours  toyle. 

And  night  her  rest  but  to  thy  weary  bones, 

Thy  fairest  fortune  followes  with  a  foyle: 

And  laughing  endes  but  with  thine  after  grones.  10 

And  this  is  all  can  helpe  thee  of  thy  hell, 
Lie  downe  and  die  and  then  thou  shalt  doe  well. 

Patience  doth  pine  and  pitty  ease  no  paine. 

Time  weares  the  thoughts  but  nothing  helps  y*  mind,  ^No.  56 

Dead  and  aliue  aliue  and  dead  againe:  15  ^*  '7-^) 

These  are  the  fits  that  thou  art  like  to  finde. 
And  this  is  all  can  helpe  thee  of  thy  hell, 
Lie  downe  and  die  and  then  thou  shalt  doe  well. 

67.  (From  Robert  Jones'  First  Booke  of  Sotiges  6f»  Ayres^  1600 :  No.  15.) 

Life  is  a  Poets  flEible, 

&  al  her  daies  are  lies  20 

Stohie  from  deaths  reckoning  table, 
For  I  die  as  I  speake. 
Death  times  the  notes  that  I  doe  breake. 

Childhood  doth  die  in  youth, 

And  youth  in  old  age  dies,  25 

I  thought  I  liu'd  in  truth : 
But  I  die,  now  I  see, 
Each  age  of  death  makes  one  degree. 

Farewell  the  doting  score 

Of  worlds  arithmeticke,  30 

Life,  He  trust  thee  no  more, 
Till  I  die,  for  thy  sake, 
lie  go  by  deaths  new  almanacke. 

This  instant  of  my  song, 

A  thousand  men  lie  sicke,  35 

A  thousand  knels  are  rong : 

No.  66.  The  first  two  stt,  also  in  BtdhfCt  •  Lyrics  from  Elizabethan  Smg-Books; 
p,  189  10  ^fsaSon^fOoh 


502  POEMS 

And  I  die  as  I  sing, 

They  are  but  dead  and  I  dying. 

Death  is  but  lifes  decay, 
Life  time,  time  wastes  away, 
Then  reason  bids  me  say, 
That  I  die,  though  my  breath 
Prolongs  this  space  of  lingring  death. 


VI.    Epigrams. 

68-78.  (From  AddiU  MS.  15,227.) 

Vetutia. 

Vrbe  tot  in  Veneta,  scortorum  millia  cur  sunt? 
{GaJL  V.  I.  In  pmtu  causa  est,  est  Venus  orta  mari.    (fol.  8.) 

44-9> 

Cur  diehus  Veneris  vescamur  fisctbus. 

Quod  mihi  quoq^die  Veneris  mare  praebeat  escam 
(/^.)  Arbitror  hinc  fieri  q*  Venus  orta  mari.    (fol.  79.) 

Luna, 

The  moone  beeing  clouded  presently  is  mist. 

But  litle  stars  may  hide  them  when  they  list 

(No.  41';  Gnattes  are  unnoted  whereso  ere  they  flie 

Endim,  3^^  Eagles  guarded  are  with  every  eye.    (ib.) 

Y.  3. 107-8) 

In  fcBtnina  deformitcUes. 

Though  men  can  cover  crime  w^  bold  steme  lookes, 
Poore  womens  faces  are  their  owne  faults  bookes.    (fol.  80.) 

In  Priamum, 

{Eufh,  i.  Had  doting  Priam  checkt  his  sonnes  desire, 

188 11.  8  Troy  had  beene  bright  with  fame,  and  not  with  fire,     (ib.) 

sqq.) 

LucreticB  querela  ad  Colaiinum. 

In  thy  weake  hiue  a  wandering  waspe  hath  crept, 
(^Euph.  ii.  And  suckt  the  honey,  w^'^  thy  chast  bee  kept,    (ib.) 

45  1.  26) 

I  !•]  they  Songbook  34  Troy]  They  MS. 


NOTES 

ENDIMION. 

Page  17.  Title  :  The  Man  in  the  Moone  :  see  Prologue.  The  phrase 
is  used,  as  Fairholt  says  (vol.  ii.  p.  282)  ^  to  signify  any  wild  story  out  of 
the  reach  of  ordinary  rules  of  criticism/  alluding  to  the  popular  fable 
that  the  man  supposed  visible  in  the  'spotty  globe'  was  either  Isaac 
carrying  sticks  for  his  own  sacrifice,  Cain  bearing  the  thorns  used  in  his 
unworthy  offering,  or  the  man  stoned  for  gathering  sticks  on  the  Sabbath 
in  Numbers  xv.  32-6.  The  only  shadow  of  literal  justification  for  the 
title  would  be  found  in  the  classical  Endymion's  sleep  in  the  moonlight, 
or  in  his  dramatic  representative's  choice,  here,  of  a  bank  of  lunary  or 
moon-wort  on  which  to  slumber  (Act  ii.  3. 10).  Cynthia  is  evidently  holding 
her  court,  not  in  heaven,  but  on  earth  (iii.  I.  49-50,  and  £piton*s  allusion 
to  a  Thames  barge  iv.  2.  57) ;  and  the  fountain  which  Eumenides  finds 
on  his  way  to  Thessaly  (iii.  4.  17)  is  probably  meant  for  that  of  Gar- 
gaphie  in  Boeotia,  sacred  to  Diana  (Ov.  Met.  iii.  1 56),  where  also  Ben 
Jonson  locates  his  Cynthias  Revels^  which  owes  something  to  our  play. 

5.  on  Candlemas  day  at  night  \  I  can  find  no  authority  for  the 
reading  *  on  New  Yeares  Day  at  night '  given  in  Lowndes'  report  of  the 
title  in  his  Manual^  and  substituted  for  the  true  reading  in  the  title  given 
by  Fairholt  and  Baker  in  their  editions  of  the  play.  Mr.  Baker  asserts 
it  to  be  the  reading  of  Blount's  edition :  but  in  the  half-dozen  copies  of 
the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies  examined  by  me  there  is  no  title-page  for 
Endimion  at  all,  a  point  wherein  it  differs  from  the  other  ^s^  plays.  The 
text  immediately  follows  Blount's  address  'To  the  Reader.' 

P.  19,  9.  Dram.  Pers.,  Sir  Tophas  :  later  consideration  confirms  my 
suspicion,  unindulged  in  the  Introduction,  that  this  figure,  though  not  with- 
out some  original  in  Plautus,  Roister  Doister  ^nd.  other  work,  is  too  much  of 
a  burlesque  to  escape  suggestion  by  the  Sir  Thopas  of  Chaucer,  to  whom 
1  have  noted  some  points  of  Lyl/s  indebtedness  (vol.  i.  p.  401),  especially 
in  Gallathea,  Lyly  adapts  Chaucer's  parody  of  the  romancers  to  his 
own  purpose  of  comic  relief,  and  parody  of  the  romantic  Endimion  and 
Eumenides  (iv.  2.  18,  70  and  Essay,  voL  ii.  276).  Sir  Tophas'  care  for 
equipment  and  personal  appearance,  i.  3,  iii.  3.  27-35,  ^s  reproduced  from 
the  '  ryme  '  wherein  it  forms  the  staple  :  his  preoccupation  with  hunting, 
fishing,  and  shooting  (i.  3)  is  developed  from  stanza  5,  where  the  mention 
of  a  *  ram '  may  suggest '  the  Monster  Ouis '  and  the  pun  (ii.  2.  94) :  his 


504  NOTES 

insensibility  to  the  lures  of  Scintilla  and  Favilla  (ii.  2.  103-53)  has  its 
model  in  the  coyness  of  Chaucer's  hero  (stanza  6) ;  his  dream,  and 
passion  for  the  witch  Dipsas  (iii.  3)  in  Sir  Thopas'  conversion  by 
a  dream  to  a  passion  for  the  elf-queen  (stt.  13-4) :  while  the  pages'  talk 
about  his  married  diet  (iii.  3.  92-103)  may  be  suggested  by  st.  22.  Even 
the  burlesque  verses  (iv.  2.  26)  are  suggested  by  the  disyllabic  lines  in 
stt.  14-7.  Lyly  did  not  mean  the  parallel  to  be  obvious ;  but  the  lines  fol- 
lowed are  the  same,  with  some  exaggeration  of  tone  and  addition  of  detail. 

11,  Dk AM,  Peks.,  Dares fPof^e /o  Endt'mion     ^   -        ,.         ,. 

'  n       ^    r^  .J      r  Precedmg  editors 

Samias,  Pa^e  to  Eumemdes  J 

transpose  the  names  of  the  masters  here,  misled  by  the  reading  of  the 
quarto  and  Blount  in  i.  3.  43-4  ^  I  am  Samias,  page  to  Endimion.' 
'  And  I  Dares,  page  to  Eumenides,'  a  passage  directly  contradicted  by 
three  later  passages  (iii.  3.  71-5 ;  iv.  2.  i,  73-5),  and  indirectly  by 
two  others  (ii.  2.  1-2 ;  v.  i.  1-2),  in  all  five  of  which  all  editions  ancient 
and  modem  agree,  so  that  the  transposition  in  i.  3. 43-4  is  clearly  a  com- 
positor's mistake. 

17.  Floscula,  her  attendant^  &c. :  in  i.  2  her  attitude  seems  that 
of  a  confidential  dependant.    She  need  not  accompany  Tellus  to  prison. 

P.  20,  7.  apply  pastimes :  interpret  our  sport  as  of  real  persons  01 
facts.  The  disclaimer  was  perhaps  necessary  in  order  to  obtain  the 
licence  of  the  Revels  Office,  which  would  be  refused  to  a  play  treating 
matters  of  State :  but  qui  !^ excuse  s^ accuse^  and  Lyly  knew  well  that  there 
was  no  danger  of  his  flattery  failing  to  reach  its  mark. 

"P,  21, 19,  p^euisA :  foolish,  as  in  Euph,  i.  190  1.  23  '  peeuishnesse, 
Moth,  Bomb,  i.  3.  166.     Fairholt  cites  Com,  of  Errors,  iv.  i.  93. 

23.  Cease  of:  *  cease,'  like  '  leave,'  is  used  either  absolutely  or  transi- 
tively, and  in  the  latter  case  sometimes  with  the  preposition  'of '  or  '  off, 
though  Shakespeare  has  no  instance  of  *  cease  of.' 

P.  22,  24.  melancholy  blood:  melancholy  was  considered  by  Elizabe- 
thans as  mainly  physical,  an  excess  of  black  bile. 

54.  fayre  face  ,  ,  .  Summers  blase  .  .  .  Winters  blast,  Sec :  £u- 
phues,  i.  202  IL  15-6. 

P.  28,  64.  dawne  into  thy  swath  clowtes :  i.  e.  back  to  thy  infancy. 

9.  had  beene  worth :  i.  e.  might  have  been  thought  worth. 

10.  Gods  .  .  .  laughers  at  Louers  deceipts :  cf.  Rom,  and  Jul,  ii.  2 
93  'at  lovers'  perjuries,  |  They  say,  Jove  laughs,'  from  Tibull.  iii.  6.  4( 
'  periuria  ridet  amantum  |  lupiter.' 

P.  24,  20-2.  whose  vaines  are  Vines  .  .  ,  whose  eares  are  Come  .  . 
whose  heares  are  grasse :  Dilke  notes  the  confusion  resulting  from  th< 
attempt  to  reconcile  the  attributes  of  Cynthia  and  Tellus  as  women,  witi 
their  allegorical  attributes  as  the  Moon  and  the  Earth  respectively.  Bu 
the  analogy,  natural  to  Lyly's  quest  of  ingenuity,  is  not  very  seriousi] 
pursued ;  and  was  perhaps  adopted  chiefly  as  a  blind,  at  the  outset,  ti 


ENDIMION  505 

the  more  daring  allegory.    The  passages  are  collected  in  the  separate 
essay,  above,  p.  82. 

P.  25,  70.  Affection  . . .  bred  by  enchauntment :  with  Floscula's  asser- 
tion of  the  vanity  of  love-philtres,  confinned  by  Dipsas  i.4. 22-5,  compare 
the  answer  made  by  Psellus,  the  physician,  to  Philaotus  in  Eufih.  and 
his  Eng,  ii.  114  11.  7-9,  118  11.  20-5. 

1^,  fish  taken  with  medicines:  i.e.  caught,  as  Tellus  suggests  below, 
with  poisoned  dough.    Again,  vol.  i.  427  IL  20-2,  ii.  108  U.  23-4. 

P.  26,  4.  wyl  you  see  the  deuilH i  i.e.  'Talk  of  the  devil,*  &c. 
(Dilke). 

8.  lyuer^  from  whence  Loue-mongers  in  former  age  .  .  .  proceede ; 
the  liver  in  the  classics  is  the  seat  of  the  passions,  e.  g.  of  Hercules'  love 
for  Hylas,  Theocr,  xiii.  71.  Dilke  quotes  Much  Ado  [iv.  i.  233]  *  If 
ever  love  had  interest  in  his  liver.'    Again  in  this  play  ii.  2.  12-3. 

11.  pursie  :  cf.  Nam/,  iii.  4.  153  '  the  fatness  of  these  pursy  times.' 

12.  some  deuise  of  the  Poet :  L  e.  love  is  such. 

25.  imbroder  my  bolts',  *  embroider'  fantastically.  The  bird-bolt  was 
a  flat-headed  arrow  for  knocking  down  small  birds ;  cf.  iii.  3. 38  '  my  bowe 
and  bolts' (Dilke). 

31.  Annuals',  there  is  no  need  to  emend  it,  as  do  Blount  and  the 
modems,  *'  AnncUs ' :  the  proverb  might  be  found  more  readily  in  an 
almanack  than  a  history. 

P.  27,  32.  you  shall  see  how  vnequall  you  be  to  mee :  Baker,  though 
he  inserts  no  stage-direction,  suggests  that  Sir  Tophas  here  actually 
measures  his  height  with  the  pages',  before  proceeding. 

38.  quod  supra  voSy  &c. :  as  in  Euphues,  i.  195  1.  26,  where  see  note. 

46.  Occupation :  the  Elizabethan  use  generally  implies  inferiority,  as 
of  manual  labour,  as  in  Coriolanus,  iv.  i.  14  ;  Jul,  Caes,  L  3.  2^.  Cf. 
*  occupyed '  =  wrought,  carved  (of  beech- wood),  Euph,  i.  196  1.  12. 

53.  the  fine  wooll  of  Seres :  I  emend  *  Ceres '  of  all  previous  eds. 
Ceres  was  not  the  goddess  of  flocks.  Cf.  Euph,  ii.  152  1.  23  ^  Wooll, 
which  the  Seres  sende,'  and  Sapho^  iii.  1. 38.  Lyly  is  probably  thinking  of 
Virg.  Georg,  ii.  121  '  Velleraque  ut  foliis  depectant  tenuia  Seres.' 

60.  wound , , ,  confound :  Dilke  notes  that  the  repetition  confound 
.  .  .  confound  of  Q  Bl.  may  be  a  mark  of  Tophas'  poverty  of  language, 
like  *  a  Poet  is  as  much  as  one  shoulde  say,  a  Poet'  above,  L  17 :  but 
urges  on  behalf  of  his  proposed  solecism, '  contund/  that  it  is  such  as 
Tophas  might  well  use.  Is  the  first  confound  a  misprint  for  confound 
(*  sound  with  my  words  *)  ? 

P.  28,  72.  wilde  Mallard :  wild  drake.  It  seems  a  pity  not  to  hand 
on  Fairholt's  note,  however  little  to  the  point :— '  There  is  an  annual 
merry-making  at  All  Souls'  College,  Oxford,  thus  described  in  the  Rev. 
J.  Pointer's  Oxoniensis  Academia,  1749:  "Another  custom  is  that  of 
celebrating  their  Mailard-night  every  year  on  the  14th  of  January,  in 


5o6  NOTES 

remembrance  of  a  huge  mallard  or  drake,  found  (as  tradition  goes) 
imprisoned  in  a  gutter  or  drain  under  ground,  and  grown  to  a  vast  big- 
ness, at  the  digging  for  the  foundation  of  the  college."  ' 

80.  heerein :  in  the  shield,  i.  e.  the  fish-basket. 

88.  Simiter :  Fairholt  notes  that  the  Asiatic  curved  weapon  was  first 
used  in  England  temp,  Henry  VI. 

94.  weapons  ^  ,  ,  the  weapon :  here  at  least  the  repetition  should 
be  considered  as  an  instance  of  one  of  Lyly's  recognized  marks  of  style : 
see  Introd.  Essay  to  EuphueSy  p.  124. 

102.  Latine  .  •  .  sauedyour  lyues  :  allusion  to  the  neck-verse. 
P.  20.  S.D.  DiPSAS:  '  Dipsas,  as  Mr.  Stevens  informs  us  in  a  note  to 
the  Malcontent,  is  the  fire-drake,  a  serpent  of  a  directly  opposite  nature 
to  the  hydrus  ;  the  one  is  supposed  to  kill  by  inflammation,  the  other  by 
cold '  (Dilke).    It  is  found  in  Aelian,  vi.  51. 

2.  traueli:  travail. 

21.  remooue  the  Moone  out  of  her  course :  Virg.  Ecl»  viii.  70  *  Carmina 
vel  coelo  possunt  deducere  Lunam.' 
P.  80,  24.  not  able  to  rule  harts :  so  Psellus,  in  Euphues,  ii.  114 11.  7-9. 

40.  aslakedi  *  abated.  Chaucer's  Knighfs  Tale  [1.  902]  "  Till  at  the 
last  aslaked  was  his  mood  " '  (Dilke).    Again  Euph,  i.  307  1.  5,  note. 

P.  31,  14.  my  solitarie  life,  almost  these  seauen  yeeres:  see  Intro- 
duction—Date, p.  13  (note).  Eumenides  iii.  4.  53-4  speaks  of  seven  years' 
silence  in  connexion  with  Semele,  and  iv.  2.  114  Dares  speaks  of 
waiting  seven  years  for  a  wise  word.  In  all  three  cases  seven  years  is 
probably  merely  used  for  a  long  period.  But  cf.  Euph,  and  his  Englemd, 
ii.  52  11.  35-6,  where  picturing  the  hardships  of  courtship  Fidus  says 
'  Besides  this  thou  art  to  be  bounde  as  it  were  an  Apprentice  seruing 
seauen  yeares,'  &c.  If  any  more  special  reference  is  intended  here, 
we  should  count  seven  years,  perhaps,  from  Leicester's  marriage  to  Lady 
Essex  in  1578. 

81.  thy  fish  Cynthia  in  thefloode  Araris,  &c. ;  Baker  quotes  Euph, 
i.  232  1.  19  '  the  fish  Scolopidus  in  the  floud  Araris  at  the  waxinge  of  the 
Moone  is  as  white  as  the  driuen  snow,  and  at  the  wayning  as  blacke 
as  the  burnt  coale.'  This  wonder  is  borrowed  from  the  Pseuda^lu- 
tarchea — De  Fluviis  vi,  the  Arar  being  the  Sa6ne  in  Gaul.  Aelian  too 
(De  Nat,  AnimcU,  xv.  4)  mentions  a  fish  called  luna  of  dark  colour, 
whose  size  varies  with  the  moon. 

P.  32,  43.  see  euerie  vaine,  sinew  ,  ,  ,  of  my  hue :  cf.  Euph,  i.  254 
1.  22  '  Searche  euery  vayne  and  sinew  of  their  disposition.' 

P.  33,  82.  No  more  was  Vesta :  cf.  Loves  Met,  v.  i.  18  *  Diana  hath 
felt  some  motions  of  loue,  Vesta  doth,  Ceres  shall.'  Lyly  is  perhaps 
thinking  of  those  instances  of  supposed  frailty  in  Vestal  virgins  cited 
Euph.  ii.  209. 

89.  the  Wrastler  in  Olimpia,  &c. :  it  >vas  customary  for  a  wrestler, 


ENDIMION  507 

on  his  entrance  into  the  arena,  to  lift  a  heavy  weight,  as  an  index,  or 
preliminary  bracing,  of  his  powers.     Cf.  Eufih,  ii.  6  1.  4. 

92.  recurei  as  substantive  again  iii.  i.  26,  4.  21,  and  Lydgate*s 
Complaint  of  the  Black  Knight 

^that  I  may  not  attayne 
Recure  to  finde  of  myn  adversite ' 

(misquoted  by  Dilke  and  Fairholt). 
The  verb  is  frequent,  and  occurs  1.  65 1  of  the  same  poem. 

7.  tipt  on  the  side :  lightly  touched  or  smeared  on  the  side;  opposed 
to  being  plunged  bodily  in,  like  the  '  tongues  dipt  to  the  roote,*  above. 

P.  34,  9.  lurcher  :  '  lurch '  is  a  variant  of  '  lurk,'  and  carries  the 
sense  of  dishonest  or  nefarious  purpose.  'Torn  Lurcher'  is  the  name 
given  to  the  robber  in  Fletcher's  Night-  Walker, 

10.  spieene  that  they  cannot  laugh :  cf.  Measure  for  Measure ^  ii.  2. 
1 22  ^  who,  with  our  spleens.  Would  all  themselves  laugh  mortal,'  and  other 
instances  in  Schmidt's  Shakespeare  Lexicon, 

14.  rodde  .  . .  vnder  thy  girdle :  i.  e.  applied  below  that  point  The 
antithetic  form  again  casts  a  doubt  on  the  meaning ;  but  the  expression 
is  exactly  repeated,  of  parental  discipline,  in  Euph,  i.  185  1.  15. 

19.  but  a  sparke  ,  ,  .  bee  not  much  more  then  a  sparkei  the  first 
alludes  to  Favilla's  small  size  and  few  years  (see  below);  the  second, 
more  commonly  of  a  man,  indicates  showy  superficiality  unfit  to  inspire 
a  genuine  '  flame.' 

28.  That /  that/',  addressed  to  Scintilla,  by  way  of  egging  her  on 
(Bak.). 

30.  babies :  i.  e.  children's  dolls  (Fairholt).    Cf.  Macb,  iii.  4.  106. 

32.  Pantables  bee  higher  with  corke  .  .  .  feete  .  .  ,  higher  in  the 
insteppesx  'pantables,'  more  usually  'pantofles'  (Fr.  pantoufies)  are 
embroidered  shoes,  or  slippers,  not  necessarily  a  woman's.  Dilke  quotes 
Massinger's  City-Madam  '  have  ready  His  cap  and  pantables.'  Fairholt 
quotes  Stubbes'  Anatomy  of  Abuses  *  corked  shoes,  puisnets  pantofles, 
and  slippers  ;  some  of  them  of  black  velvet,  some  of  white,  some  of  green, 
and  some  of  yellow ;  some  of  Spanish  leather,  and  some  of  English ; 
stitched  with  silk  and  embroidered  with  gold  and  silver,  all  over  the  foot, 
with  other  gew-gaws  innumerable.'  'To  stand  on  the  pantuffles,'  and 
*  to  be  high  in  the  insteppe '  occur,  as  proverbial  expressions  for  pride,  in 
Euphuesy  i.  196  1.  24,  255  L  36,  and  i.  202  1.  24. 

44.  short :  ill-humoured,  curt,  but  of  course  with  a  Parthian  shot  at 
Favilla's  stature,  as  above. 

P.  85,  60.  vse  his garbe :  'show  his  demeanor,  style,  fashion  '  (Baker). 
Cf.  Haml,  ii.  2.  390  *  let  me  comply  with  you  in  this  garb.' 

65.  be  our  enemies  fatte  f  i  referring  to  trout  [or  birds]  carried  in 
a  basket,  on  the  shield,  by  Epiton,  the  result  of  '  fortifying  for  fish,'  i.  3. 
end  (Bak.). 


5o8  NOTES 

78.  This  passeth/i  'exceeds  belief,'  again  iii.  4.  78.  Brewer's 
Lingua  '  Your  travellers  so  dote  upon  me  as  passes.' 

P.  36,  84.  vntewed\    uncombed,  undressed ;  AS.  tedhan^  pull,  draw, 
whence  to  tow  ;  or  else  ME.  tewen,  tawen,  AS.  tawian^  dress  leather. 

P.  87,  125.  pelting:  paltry.    Meets,  for  Meas,  ii.  2.  112  *  every  pelting, 
petty  officer.' 

140.  made  for  money :  Baker  suggests  that  Sir  Tophas  may  be 
alluding  to  the  use  of  '  squirrel '  as  a  cant  term  for  a  prostitute.  Sudi 
a  sneer  would  hardly  be  in  keeping  with  his  character,  though  it  would 
give  point  to  Dares'  next  speech,  with  whom  the  allusion,  if  any,  lies. 
Fairholt  informs  us  that  the  Tapestry  of  Nancy,  found  lining  the  tent 
of  Charles  the  Bold,  after  his  death  at  the  siege  of  that  place  in  1476, 
contains  a  lady  of  rank  seated  with  a  favourite  squirrel  secured  to  her 
wrist  by  a  chain. 
P.  38.  Scene  III. — A  Grove^  &c. :  see  iv.  3.  160. 

8.  iudged  vnfaithfullx  Dipsas  may  perhaps  be  supposed  to  have 
fulfilled  her  promise  at  th^  end  of  Act  i  to  inspire  Cynthia  with  a  dis- 
trust of  him,  a  symptom  to  which  he  has  also  alluded  in  ii.  i.  5,  28. 

6.  Eboney  which  no  fire  .  .  •  sweet  sauours :  hastily  from  Pliny  xiL  9 
'  [Ebenum]  accendi  Fabianus  negat :  uritur  tamen  odore  iucundc' 

10.  Lunary  :  moon  wort,  says  Johnson.  Euph,  ii.  172  L  18  *  Lunaris 
hearbe,  as  long  as  the  Moone  waxeth,  bringeth  forth  leaues,  and  in  the 
waining  shaketh  them  of.*  Baker  quotes  Sapho  and  Pkao,  iii.  3.  43 
'  an  hearbe  called  Lunary,  that  being  bound  to  the  pulses  of  the  sick, 
causeth  nothinge  but  dreames  of  weddings  and  daunces.'  Cf.  Drayton's 
*Man  in  the  Moone'  in  Poemes  (1604  or  -5,  12"*®) 

'As  my  great  brother,  so  haue  I  a  flower 
To  me  peculiar,  that  doth  ope  and  dose 
When  as  I  rise,  and  when  I  me  repose.' 
P.  39,  86.  The  malice  of  Tellus,  &c. :   since  the  end  of  ii.  2  Tellos 
has  apparently  wrought  upon  Dipsas  to  lay  the  spell  of  sleep  upon  him. 
He  complains,  above,  of  an  inexplicable  lethargy ;  and  just  below  Dipsas 
goes  out  to  '  finish '  the  necessary  ceremonies.    Dipsas'  remark  '  from 
her  gather  wee  all  our  simples  to  maintaine  our  sorceries,'  in  addition 
to  adding  a  touch  to  the  physical  allegory,  may  refer  to  the  large  allow- 
ance drawn  by  the  Shrewsburies  for  the  support  of  Mary  of  Scotland  and 
her  ladies. 

40.  sing  the  inchantment  for  sleepei  everyone  will  share  DUke^s  r^ret 
that  the  song  on  this  beautiful  theme,  which  should  appear  after  the  first 
words  of  Bagoa's  following  speech,  has  been  lost.  I  suggest  one  p.  470, 
below. 

A  DUMBE  SHEW :  first  given  in  Blount ;  its  absence  from  the 
quarto  being  probably  attributable  to  the  fact  that  Lyly  was  his  own 
stage-manager  and  did  not  embody  in  his  original  MS.  what  he  could 


ENDIMION  509 

teach  orally,  stage-directions  being  rare.  It  is  a  representation  of 
the  dream  Endimion  narrates  in  v.  i.  p.  66,  and  forms  the  complement 
of  the  Court  history  Lyly  is  allegorically  relating.  He  never  uses  Dumb 
Show  elsewhere :  nor  is  there  any  instance  of  its  separate  employment 
in  Greene's  works,  though  both  James  IV  and  The  Looking  Glass  for 
London  have  a  large  spectacular  element.  Kyd  uses  it  in  Jeronimoi 
Peele  in  The  Battle  of  Alcazar,  It  is  unused  by  Marlowe,  Lodge,  and 
Nash.  It  marks,  in  fact,  an  earlier  date  than  that  at  which  these 
dramatists  wrote,  and  is  characteristic  rather  of  the  pseudo-classic  drama, 
where  it  atones  in  a  measure  to  the  spectators  for  the  lack  of  action 
imposed  by  adherence  to  classical  rules.  Excellent  examples  of  it  occur 
in  GorboduCy  1 561,  and  in  Thos.  Hughes*  The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur^ 
where  the  authorship,  in  part,  of  the  elaborate  shows  before  the  Acts  is 
attributed  to  Francis  Bacon.  Shakespeare  casts  a  slur  upon  it  in 
Hamlet's  advice  to  the  Players,  and  introduces  it  in  the  puppet-play 
as  part  of  the  style  and  practice  of  a  past  age  ;  reflecting,  in  the  king's 
question  about  the  argument  immediately  after,  that  neglect  of  it  by  the 
audience  which,  as  the  dramatists  learnt  to  tell  their  tale  directly  by 
dialogue  and  action,  must  gradually  have  driven  it  from  the  stage. 
P.  40,  9.  Endimion  onely  was  :  was  your  one  thought. 

17.  maUpart  ouerthwarts',  impertinent  wranglings  (Fairholt).  Loves 
Met,  V.  4.  141  ;  Camp.  iii.  2.  38. 

P.  41,  29.  compasse  of  the  earth  :  i.  e.  the  circuit,  the  power  of  going  or 
sending  all  round  it.    Another  touch  to  the  physical  allegory. 

37.  camock  :  a  word  of  Gaulish  origin,  represented  in  modem  Welsh 
and  Gaelic,  meaning  a  crooked  staff  or  crook.  ME.  kambok^  LL.  rai»- 
buca,  Cf.  Euph,  ii.  33  1.  21  note ;  M.  Bombie^  i.  3.  108 ;  and  Glossary. 
Hey  wood's  ProuerbeSy  1546  has  '  It  pricketh  betimes  that  will  be  a  good 
thome,'  and  '  Timely  crooketh  the  tree,  that  will  a  good  camok  bee ' 
(p.  159,  Sharman's  reprint). 

43.  worke  stories  or  poetries  f\  Fairholt  quotes  from  John  Taylor's 
Needles  Excellencie,  1640— 

'poses  rare  and  anagrams, 
Signifique  searching  sentences  from  names, 
True  history,  or  various  pleasant  fiction 
In  sundry  colours  mixt,  with  art's  commixion.' 
46.  Enchaunters  in  Thessaly :  cf.  *  Thessalicum  venenum,'  Ov.  Am. 
iii.  7.  27  ;  Hor.  Od,  i.  27.  21 ;  Ep,  5.  45  ;  *Thessala  philtra,'  Juv.  vi.  610; 
and  Fotis,  the  Thessalian  enchantress,  in  Apuleius'  De  Asino, 

P.  42,  11.  no  sweeter  musicke  .  .  .  then  dispayrei    this  attitude  is 
repeated  in  Geron,  iii.  4.  6-9  and  in  Shakespeare's  Richard  11^  &c. 

20.  sound  nothing  but  terror,  &c  :  so  Mid,  ii.  i.  102  *  soundest  but 
bloud  and  terror.' 
P.  43,  19.  cannot  stand  without  another :   here,  as  elsewhere,  e.  g. 


510  NOTES 

M.  Bomb,  iii.  2.  12-4,  Lyly  is  reproducing  the  langu^e  of  the  Latin 
Grammar  in  exclusive  use  throughout  the  reahn,  being  the  original 
Grammar  by  W.  Lilly  and  John  Colet  with  an  English  Introduction.  The 
earliest  edition  I  have  seen  is  that  entided  A  Shorie  Iniroiiuctwi  of 
Grammar,  &c^  1577,  4<>.  On  fol.  C  iij  recto,  which  treats  of  Interjections, 
occurs  '  Some  are  of  myrth :  as  Euax^  vak.  Some  are  of  sorrow :  as 
Heu,  hei*  &c.  On  A  5  recto  'A  Noune  is  the  name  of  a  thing,  that  may 
be  scene,  felt,  hearde,  or  vnderstande[d] : . . .  A  Noune  Substantiue  is  that 
standeth  by  himselfe  ...  A  Noune  Adiectiue  is  that  can  not  stande  by 
himselfe,  but  requireth  to  be  ioyned  with  an  other  woorde.' 

27.  discouerx  uncover. 

29.  Cedant  arma  toga :  Cic.  de  Off,  i.  22.  76. 

32.  bella  gerant  alii^  &c. :  seems  suggested  by  Ov.  Her.  xiiL  84 
'  Bella  gerant  alii !  Protesilaus  amet '  (Baker).  But  in  Her.  zviL  254 
the  line  occurs  in  a  nearer  form—'  Bella  gerant  fortes :  to.  Pari,  semper 
ama.'    Repeated  Midas,  iv,  4.  28-9. 

35.  the  bodkin  beard  or  the  bush :  Fairholt  in  a  long  note  on  Midas, 
iii.  2.  39  about  the  varying  cut  of  the  beard,  says  the  bodkin-beard  was 
' ''  sharp,  stiletto  fashion,  dagger  like  "  to  use  the  words  of  Taylor,  the 
Water  Poet,  in  his  Suferbice  Flagellum^  *  The  bush '  would  be  effected 
by  leaving  it  untrimmed  (Bak.). 

36.  dicere  qua  puduit,  &c. :  Ov.  Her,  iv.  10  (Bak.). 

39.  Scalpellum,  &c. :  these  two  lines  seem  to  be  of  Lyly*s  composi- 
tion. 

41.  bable',  for  ^  bauble.'    See  Glossary.   Nares  quotes  Harring.  Epig, 
ii.  96  *  To  be  my  foole,  and  I  to  be  thy  bable.' 
P.  44,  43,  Militat  omnis,  &c. :  Ov.  Amor,  i.  9.  i  (Bak.). 

47.  Nonformosus,  &c :  Ov.  Ars  Amat,  ii.  123  (Bak.). 

50.  Quicquid  conabar,  &c. :  Baker  notes  that  the  line  occurs  in 
Ov.  Trist,  iv.  10.  26  *  Et,  quod  tentabam  dicere,  versus  erat ' ;  but  that  in 
Sidney's  Defence  of  Poesie  it  is  given  as  here.  As  a  matter  of  iiact  the 
first  edition  of  Sidney's  Apologie  for  Poetrie  (1595)  reads  'conabor  .  .  . 
erit,'  *conabor'  being  corrected  in  an  erratum  to  the  imperfect.  The 
reading  *'  conabar '  is  only  found  in  the  Codex  Bemensis  of  Ovid,  the  other 
MSS. having  'tentabam.* 

56.  Bytterx  bittern.  *  ME.  bitoure,  bytoure,  Chaucer  C.  T.  6554— F. 
butor,  "  a  bittor  " ;  Cotg.'  (Skeat). 

59.  thrifty  , . ,  no  waste :  Dilke  notes  the  recurrence  of  the  pun  in 
2  Henry  IV,  i.  2.  i6i  *  I  would  my  means  were  greater,  and  my  waist 
slenderer.' 

68.  woodcock:  simpleton  (Bak.). 
P.  46,  88.  vaile  bonet :  lower  cap.     ME.  auaien,  to  descend  or  lower, 
F.  avaier^  ix,  d  val,  Lat.  ad  vallem,    (Skeat's  Concise  Diet,  of  Mid. 
Eng,) 


ENDIMION  511 

89.  without  fashion  ,  .  ,  without  fauour  :  the  first  of  shape,  the 
second  of  features  (Dilke). 

98.  lumpe :  the  fish  is  so  named  from  its  heavy  shape. 

powting :  *  Powt  or  eel-powt,*  Minsheu  (Skeat). 

101.  frettersi   the  only  known   instance  of  the  word,  which  the 
N.  £.  D.  conjectures  from  the  context  to  be  a  species  of  apple. 
P.  46,  117.  The  Witch:  must  be  Dipsas. 

121.  Bandogs:  originally  band-dog^  a  large  dog  held  in  a  band,  or 
tied  up.    Prompt.  Parv,  p.  43  *  bondogge  or  bonde  dogge,  Molosus^ 

124.  batten :  properly  *  to  grow  fat,'  here  of  being  left  at  ease,  in  com- 
fort.    Dilke  quotes  Dryden 

'  The  lazy  glutton  safe  at  home  will  keep, 
Indulge  his  sloth  and  batten  on  his  sleep.' 

144.  vntrusse  the  poynts :  undo  the  fastenings,  points  being  the 
strings  or  ribbons  with  metal  tags  by  which  the  dress  was  fastened  before 
the  advent  of  buttons.  ^  To  trusse '  is  to  fasten  as  a  package  or '  trusse,' 
a  word  found  as  subst.  Prompt,  Parv.  p.  504  (Skeat). 

P.  47,  156.  I  prcB,  sequar:  Ter.  And,  i.  i.  144.  Again  in  M.  Bomb.  \\. 
4.  20. 

1.  your  sad  musique . .  .your  mouthes  ende :  another  song  lost,  of  a 
pathetic  character,  which  should  have  commenced  the  scene.  See  Essay, 
vol.  ii.  p.  265.    That  suggested  above,  p.  470,  seems  exactly  appropriate. 

5.  these  fftie  Winters:  compare  v.  3.  21,  where  we  learn  that  Dip- 
sas has  practised  witchcraft  'almost  these  fiftie  yeeres,'  so  that  her 
husband  must  have  been  her  earliest  subject.  This  old  man,  living  alone 
and  brooding  on  the  past,  reminds  us  of  Fidus  or  Cassander  or  Euphues 
himself  in  Euphues  and  his  England. 

P.  48,  34.  Eum.  (aside).  Ah  Eumenidesf:  caused  by  the  sudden 
thought  that  he  may  win  Semele  by  sacrificing  his  friend. 

53.  Howe  secrete  hast  thou  beene  these  seauen  yeeres :  cf.  £ndimion*s 
lament  over  his  'solitarie  life,  almost  these  seauen  yeeres,'  ii.  i.  14. 
But  if,  as  I  believe,  Eumenides  and  Semele  represent  Sir  Philip  Sidney 
and  Penelope  Rich,  the  *  seauen  yeeres  *  must  not  be  pressed.  Sir  Philip's 
first  sight  of  Penelope  Devereux  was  in  the  autumn  of  1575 ;  and  their 
engagement,  made  probably  in  1 576,  seems  to  have  been  broken  off  after 
the  death  of  her  father  the  Earl  of  Essex  in  Sept.  of  that  year.  She 
married  Lord  Rich  early  in  1 581,  which  seems  to  have  given  new  life  to 
Philip's  flame. 

P.  49,  75.  and  dissolue :  and  let  me  dissolve.  This  double  construction 
of  let^  first  as  a  separate  and  then  as  an  auxiliary  verb,  is  thoroughly 
Lylian.    Sec  Introd.  Essay  to  Euphues^  vol.  i.  p.  125. 

79.  the  beleefe :  i.  e.  in  the  magic  properties  of  the  fountain. 

86.  not  a  faithfull  louer :  this  may  allude  to  Shrewsbury's  falling 
under  the  influence  of  his  domestic  Eleanor  Britton,  and  would  form  an 


512  NOTES 

additional  argument  for  a  late  date  for  the  play.     (See  IHci,  Nat.  Bicg. 
Talbot,  George,  6th  Earl.) 

P.  50, 116.  Semele  . . .  /,  but  Endimion^  &c :  for  this  rhetorical  see-saw 
cf.  Lucilla,  balancing  between  Euphues  and  Philautus,  Euph,  i.  305  IL  17- 
22,  and  the  opposition  between  love  and  friendship  in  Geron's  following 
speech  reminds  us  of  Euphues'  reflections,  I  210. 

129.  Camelion  • .  .  lunges :  Pliny,  xxix«  29,  has  only  *  ctun  id  animal 
nuUo  cibo  vivat ' ;  it  is  rather  Bartholomaeus  Anglicus  on  whom  Lyly  is 
drawing  (xviii.  21)  'and  what  is  in  his  body  is  but  of  lytell  flesh  &  hath 
but  lytell  blood  . .  .  And  it  is  sayde  that  the  camelion  lyueth  only  by  ayre.' 
Euph,  i.  194  1.  21  differs  somewhat — 'y^  Camelion  thoughe  hee  haue 
most  guttes,  draweth  least  breath.* 

P.  61,  144.  common  as  Hares  in  Atho :  again  with  Hybla  bees  as  an 
instance  of  plentifulness,  Euph,  i.  221  1.  24 ;  suggested  by  Ov.  ArL  Ant, 
iii.  150  '  Nee  quot  apes  Hyble,  nee  quot  in  Alpe  ferae.' 

146.  Phoenix . . .  but  one:  Pliny,  x.  2  '  phoenicem  .  . .  unum  in  toto 
orbe,  nee  visum  magnopere.* 

the  Philadelphi  in  Arays :  Baker  gives  a  suggestion  of  Prof.  Peck  of 
Columbia  College,  that  the  mock  orange  ( philadelphus  hirsutus)  is  meant, 
whose  flowers  as  a  rule  grow  only  in  pairs,  though  they  have  been  (rarely) 
found  in  clusters ;  and  that  Arays  is  Lyly's  form  for  the  Spanish  Aran- 
juez,  whose  beautiful  flower-gardens  were  laid  out  by  Philip  II.  This  is 
not  wholly  satisfying ;  but  I  find  nothing  in  Pliny,  Aelian,  or  Bartholo- 
maeus Anglicus. 

155.  in  the  same  Filler:  the  former  inscription  was  *  in  white  marble 
engrauen,'  1.  81.  Cf.  the  *crouned  Pillar'  of  vol.  i.  411  top,  456  L  26, 
466  1.  4* 

175.  that  our  bodies  might  the  better  bee  gouemedi  Barth.  Ang.  viii. 
30  quotes  from  '  Ptholomeus '  some  effects  of  the  moon  on  the  human 
eyesight,  &c. 

182.  tell  her  the  successe :  i.  e.  the  succession,  sequel,  issue,  as  in 
Wint,  Tale,  i.  2.  394  '  our  parents*  noble  names,  In  whose  success  we  are 
gentle';  and  William  Bercher's  MS.  The  Nobylyiye  off  Wymen  (1559), 
fol.  16  B  verso,  ^Emonge  the  Ebrewes  Maria  Delbora  and  Anna 
knewe  the  Successe  of  thynges  by  their  Dyvynytie.'  Also  Gcdl,  i.  i. 
19,  &c. ;  see  Glossary. 
P.  68,  23.  stoute :  cf.  *  stoutnesse,'  Loves  Metam,  v.  2.  4. 

26.  practise  that  which  is  most  customarie  to  our  sex^  to  dissemble. 
All  eds.  read  contrarie,  Blount  and  Fairholt  omitting  Q's  comma  at  sex, 
thus  giving  the  sense  that  Tellus  will  pretend  what  it  goes  against  the 
grain  with  women  to  feign,  viz.  love,  a  statement  hardly  more  natural  than 
that  it  avoids,  which  latter  is  contradicted  by  her  attitude  on  the  subject, 
ii.  I.  59-68.  As  emendation  either  not  contrarie  or  most  common  would 
also  do,  always  retaining  the  comma  at  sex. 


ENDIMION  513 

41.  He  that gaue  Cassandra^  &c :  i.e.  the  Thymbraean  Apollo ;  the 
curse  was  added  in  consequence  of  her  resistance  to  his  desires  (Hygin. 
Fab.  93). 

P.  64,  67.  nothing  pleaseth  her  but  the  fairenesse  of  virginitie  \  com- 
pare the  speech  of  Diana  (=  Elizabeth)  on  this  subject,  GailtJhea,  iii.  4, 
i6~53}  which  I  have  illustrated  in  the  notes  by  a  long  passage  quoted 
from  Halpin. 

79.  I  will  in,  and  laugh  , , ,  at  Corsites  sweating:  see  under  Place 
and  Time,  p.  14. 

5.  pelting  chafe :    the   modem   editors  explain   as   merely  *  irrit- 
able humour  * ;  but  pelting  has  its  usual  sense  of  paltry,  petty,  referring 
to  Epi's  small  stature,  as  though  a  fly  should  exhibit  passion. 
P.  55,  27.  fodge :  move,  suit,  go  suitably. 

29.  from  the  thombe  to  the  little  finger ^  &c. :  the  satire  is  aimed  at 
that  ever-recurring  attempt  to  cover  poverty  of  thought  and  feeling  under 
eccentricity  of  form  which  Addison  {Spectator^  No.  58)  notes  in  some  minor 
Greek  poets.     George  Herbert  has  a  good  deal  of  it — *  Easter  Wings,'  an 

*  Altar,'  &c.    Much  modem  verse  exhibits,  and  some  reviewers  consider, 
form  only. 

33.  blacke  Saunce :  black  Sanctus,  or  hymn  to  St  Satan,  ridiculing 
the  monks ;  an  example  appears  in  the  prologue  to  Sir  John  Harington's 
Ajax,  and  was  republished  in  the  Nugae  Antiquae  (Nares).  But  the 
term  is  commonly  used  in  Elizabethan  literature  for  any  noisy  or  profane 
ditty,  e.  g.  Nash's  Have  with  you,  &c.  (of  Lyly  himself)i  *  With  a  blacke 
sant  he  meanes  shortly  to  bee  att  his  chamber  window,  for  calling  him  the 
Fiddlestick  of  Oxford.'   Dilke  quotes  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Mad  Lover, 

*  Prithee  let's  sing  him  a  black  santis.' 

P.  56,  40.  Artillarie  , .  .  nailes :  perhaps  alluding  to  the  boys'  trick  of 
flipping  small  objects. 

41.  Sic  omnia,  &c. :  *  Cic.  Paradoxa  Stoicorum,  I.  L  "  Omnia  mecum 
porto  mea."  Ascribed  to  Bias  by  Cicero.  Cp.  Phaedrus,  Fab,  iv.  21 ' 
(Baker). 

44.  Ccelo  iegitur,  &c. :  Lucan,  vii.  819  (Bak.).  But  Lyly's  range  of 
quotation  is  probably  assisted  by  some  collection  of  Sententiae, 

hi.  Westeme  barge :  i.e^  on  the  Thames.  Pugge,  ot pug,  a  variant 
of  Puck,  is  a  term  of  good  fellowship.  Dilke  quotes  Marston's  Anton,  and 
Mellida,  ii.  I  *  Good  pug,  give  me  some  capon.' 

67.  certaine  fountaine  hard  by :  see  under  Place  and  Time,  p.  14. 

71.  wambleth  in  his  stomcuke\  rumbles.  Beau,  and  Flet.  Mad 
Lover,  i.  i.  280  *  cold  sallads  . .  •  lie  wambling  in  your  stomachs.' 

S.  D.  Enter  the  Watch  :  set  by  Cynthia  to  guard  the  sleeping  Endy- 
mion  ;  see  below,  1.  84,  and  iv.  3  1,  8.    Gyptes,  1.  160,  merely  approves. 

P.  67,  91.  take  me  with  you  :  don't  leave  me  out  of  consideration  ; 
like  the  *  Shall  I  have  audience? '  of  Holofemes,  Z.  Z.  L,  v.  i.  130, 

BONO   III  L  1 


514  NOTES 

101.  ^children  and  fooles  speake  true^  \  compare  William  Bcrcher*s 
MS.  Nobylytye  off  Wytnen,  fol.  28  verso  *  accordinge  to  the  pverbe  /ffoolis 
and  children  /  be  best  prophetes.' 

103.  Ail  say^  True :  i.  e.  by  speaking  *  True '  they  bring  themselves 
within  the  proverb.    Cf.  M,  Bomb,  ii.  i.  99  *  moras.* 

105.  prouided from :  the  Constable*s  mistake  for  '  avoided  of.' 
P.  68,  114.  watch  y,  yeresfor  awise  wordei  i.e.  the  whole  length  of 
an  apprenticeship,  or  any  long  period.    See  note  on  ii.  i.  14. 

131  sqq.  Cf.  the  squaring  of  the  Serjeant  in  M,  Bomb,  iv. 
2.  241. 

137.  browne  Bils :  brown,  either  from  rust,  or  because  painted  to 
keep  them  from  it  (Fairholt  and  Baker). 

roare :  revel.    Cf.  the  cant  term  *  roaring  boy  *  for  a  swaggerer. 
P.  69,  16.  braunfallen :  of.  Euph,  i.  307  1.  30  *  Milo,  that  great  wrastler 
beganne  to  weepe  when  he  sawe  his  armes  brawnefallen  and  weake.' 
Braun  is  originally  muscle,  though  used  for  boar's  flesh,  P,  Plowmatty  B. 
xiii.  63,  91. 

18.  lythemesse :  languor,  as  in  Euph,  ii.  50  1.  31.  AS.  li^  =  gentle, 
soft,  and  is  used  in  that  sense  in  Chaucer  *s  House  of  Fame y  118.  Also 
AS.  ly^r«evil,  gives  us  *litherly  *=ill,  in  M Uteres  Tate,  113,  and 
*  lyther  '= vicious,  in  The  Cuckoo  and  the  Nightingate,  1.  14  (Skeat). 

22.  renti  rend,  as  in  v.  3.  42  'my  rented  and  ransackt  thoughts,' 
and  Euph,  ii.  17  1.  29. 

27.  Hags — out  alas  /  Nymphes  / :  he  substitutes  a  more  complimen- 
tary term.    The  punctuation  of  Dilke  and  Baker  quite  misses  the  point, 
which  is  clear  enough  in  the  quarto.    Hags^  witches,  as  Euph,  i.  255 1. 3,  &c. 
29.  pinch  him :  suggested  by  Scot's  Discouerie  of  Witchcraft,  ii.  4. 
The  parallel  in  Act  v  of  the  Merry  Wives  has  been  pointed  out  by  Steevens 
and  Fairholt.   In  Old  Ballads,  Historical  and  Narrative,  by  Thos.  Evans, 
Lon.  1 8 10,  vol.  i.  p.  145,  is  printed,  'from  a  very  rare  collection  of  Songs, 
called  Hunting,  Hawking,  Dancing,  &c  ;  set  to  music  by  Bennet,  Piers, 
and  Ravenscroft,  4to,'  a  poem  entitled  The  Elves  Dance,  which  precisely 
corresponds  to  the  situation  in  Lyly's  play,  and  may  have  been  substituted 
for  it  at  some  revival  of  which  the  record  is  lost.    It  runs  as  follows — 
*  Dare  you  haunt  our  hallow'd  green  ? 
None  but  fairies  here  are  seen. 
Down  and  sleep. 
Wake  and  weep. 
Pinch  him  black,  and  pinch  him  blue. 
That  seeks  to  steal  a  lover  true. 
When  you  come  to  hear  us  sing. 
Or  to  tread  our  fairy  ring. 
Pinch  him  black,  and  pinch  him  blue, 
O  thus  our  nails  shall  handle  you.' 


ENDIMION  515 

P.  60,  41.  Heidegyes :  cf.  Shep,  Kal,  June,  *  But  frendly  Faeries  .  .  . 
can  chace  the  lingring  Night  |  With  Heydeguyes,  and  trimly  trodden 
traces,*  and  Drayton's  Polyolb,  Song  v.  Argum.  *  Dance  hy-day-gies.' 
The  sole  etymology  suggested  is  the  unsatisfactory  *  hey-day  guise.' 
49.  in  colours :  of  what  is  feigned,  described  or  imagined. 
62.  let  vs  walke  to  Endimion :  from  Gyptes'  following  remark,  and 
Cynthia's  to  Floscula,  it  is  evident  that  Endimion  is  not  supposed  to  be 
present.  At  her  entry  above  we  are  to  imagine  her  in  her  palace  or  its 
grounds  ;  and  during  the  20  11.  between  her  proposal  to  '  walke  to  Endi- 
mion '  and  her  exclamation  '  Behold  Endimion  ! '  they  walk  up  and  down 
the  stage  as  if  in  transit  to  the  lunary-bank.  Cf.  under  Place  and  Time, 
p.  14. 

P.  61,  80.  Ihaue  seemed  strange :  this  coldness  of  Cynthia,  whether 
intended  as  the  result  of  Tellus'  machinations  or  not,  was  twice  alluded 
to  by  Endimion,  ii.  i.  27  sqq.,  and  ii.  3.  3.  But  in  the  preceding  line  is 
probably  adverb. 

84-7.  like  a  Leopard  . .  .  looke  on  thy  hands :  see  the  Fairies'  Song 
'  Spots  ore  all  his  flesh  shall  runne.' 

P.  62,  \W,  from  this  Cabani  noted  by  Baker  as  an  inconsistency; 
but  it  merely  shows  that  the  lunary-bank  occupied  that  central,  covered, 
and  sometimes  raised,  portion  of  the  stage  which  did  duty  in  turn  for 
a  mountain,  castle,  cave,  inner  room,  &c.,  and  was  separated  from  the 
main  stage  by  doors  or  curtains  that  could  be  drawn  back  at  pleasure. 

P.  63,  153.  in  a  cluster :  indistinguishable. 

P.  65,50.  slept  fort :e  yeeres  \  the  inconsistency  between  this  numbering 
and  the  *  almost  twentie  yeeres*  of  iii.  4.  19  was  noted  by  Dilke.  See 
under  Place  and  Time,  p.  15. 

61.  lustes^  turneys:  Dilke  quotes  from  Strutt's  Sports  and  Pastimes 
the  distinction  between  a  tournament  where  parties  of  knights  are  opposed, 
and  a  joust  where  single  knights  are  opposed. 

P.  66,  81.  Methought  I  sawe  a  Ladie  passing f aire ^  &c  ;  this  descrip- 
tion of  the  dream  of  Endimion,  which  is  epitomized  in  the  Dumb  Shew, 
p.  39,  is  obviously  allegorical,  but  not  perhaps  of  the  same  events  as  those 
symbolized  in  the  play,  or  not  in  the  same  aspect.  The  lady  with  the 
knife  who  is  diverted  from  her  cruel  purpose  is  probably  Elizabeth,  in 
whom  mercy  overcomes  anger  (IL  96-100).  The  stern  damsel  who  incites 
the  lady  with  the  knife  may  be  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury,  but  is  more 
probably  meant  for  Leicester's  second  wife,  Lady  Douglas  Sheffield,  who 
on  the  revelation  by  Simier,  the  French  ambassador  for  the  Duke  of 
Alen^on,  of  Leicester's  marriage  to  the  Countess  of  Essex,  claimed  her 
own  marital  rights,  but  was  persuaded  by  Leicester's  threats  and,  says 
Dugdale,  by  the  offer  of  ;^7oo  a  year,  to  withdraw  her  claim.  The  interview 
took  place  '  in  the  dose  arbour  of  the  Queen's  garden,  Greenwich,'  which 
corresponds  to  the  lunary-bank  in  the  play  on  which  Endimion  is  dream- 

Ll2 


Si6  NOTES 

ing  (see  Halpin's  OberofCs  Vision^  p.  39).  The  third  lady,  who  sympathizes 
with  him,  is  the  gentle  Floscula  of  the  play,  Leicester's  third  wife,  Lettice, 
widow  of  Essex.  The  old  man  with  the  book  of  counsels,  policies,  and 
pictures,  the  last  alone  of  which  Endimion  accepts  (a  fable  obviously 
suggested  by  that  of  Tarquin  and  the  Sibyl),  is  possibly  meant  for  Bur- 
leigh, endeavouring  to  guide  by  wisdom  one  who  owns  no  law  but  that  of 
the  affections.  The  wolves  barking  impotently  at  Cynthia  represent  the 
ineffectual  plots  of  which  the  reign  was  full.  Ingratitude,  Treachery,  and 
Envy  need  no  special  identification  ;  but  the  drones  or  beetles  that  creep 
into  the  Eagle's  nest  to  suck  its  blood  are  probably  the  Jesuit  priests  of 
Douai  and  Rheims,  the  perpetual  fomenters  of  disorders  in  England, 
against  whom  stringent  measures  were  taken  in  1583.  A  pamphlet 
entitled  The  Execution  of  Justice  in  England ,  .  .  Imprinted  at  London 
1583  {Harl,  Miscellany y  vol.  ii.  pp.  137-155)  defends  the  penal  laws 
recently  enacted  against  papists,  and  is  at  pains  to  show  that  they  were 
aimed  at  them  not  as  papists,  but  as  rebels.  It  alludes  to  the  Pope's  bull 
of  excommunication,  1570,  and  to  his  commission  to  the  Jesuit  Fathers, 
Parsons  and  Campion,  on  their  departure  for  England,  April  14,  1580. 

111.  pitching:  properly  of  fixing  or  fastening  a  sharp  peg  into  the 
ground,  as  in  *  pitching  camp.' 

P.  67,  127.  totterd :  a  variant  of  *  tattered,'  as  in  Marlowe's  Edw,  II, 
V.  5  *  my  totterd  robes.*  *  Totters '  is  found  in  Ford's  Sun*s  Darling,  i. 
I.  2nd  Song. 

130.  Beetles . . .  creeping  vnder  thewinges,  &c. :  repeated,  with  variety, 
from  Euphuesy  ii.  215  1.  21,  where  see  note. 

P.  68,  5.  Lorde  of  misrule  .  .  .  keepeth  Christmas  :  the  election  of 
a  Lord  of  Misrule  to  preside  over  Christmas  festivities  needs  no  illustra- 
tion to-day.  Coliier*s  History  of  Dramatic  Poetry ^  i.  132,  quotes  a  long 
passage  from  Holinshed  describing  the  appointment  of  George  Ferrers  as 
Edward  VI's  Lord  of  Misrule  for  the  twelve  days  of  Christmas,  155 i-a, 
which  speaks  of  such  appointment  as  *  of  old  ordinarie  course.* 

22.  quyller:  an  unfledged  bird  ;  no  other  instance  known,  but  *quils' 
are  used  for  *  feathers'  in  Sapho  and  Phao,  iv.  3.  17,  and  GallcUhea^ 

i.  1.31- 
P.  69,  25.  Agnosco  veteriSy  &c, :  Aen,  iv.  23. 

30.  Rabbet  sucker  :  a  sucking  rabbit.  Steevens  compares  l  Henry  IV 
[ii.  4.  480]  *  Hang  me  up  by  the  heels  for  a  rabbit  sucker,'  i.  e.  a  tender 
innocent.  Dugdale's  Origines  twice  mentions  a  dish  of  them  as  figuring 
in  a  feast  in  Inner  Temple  Hall  (Dilke). 

31.  chicken  peeper;  to  *peep*  is  to  chirp,  or  cry.  Skeat  quotes 
Isaiah  viii.  19  *  wizards  that  peep  and  that  mutter,'  and  Nicholas  of 
Guildford's  Owl  and  Nightingale y  503. 

47 .  est  Venus  in  vinis,  &c. :  Ov.  Ars  Amai,  i.  244  with  et  for  est 
(Pak.). 


ENDIMION  517 

48.  O  lepidum  caput :  Ter.  Adelphi,  v.  9.  9. 

52.  My  solicitors :  i.  e.  sent  to  solicit  Dipsas. 
P.  70,  67.  The  Turtle  true  hath  nere  a  tooth :  nothing  in  Pliny,  nor 
Barth.  Angl.     It  sounds  like  a  fragment  of  an  old  ballad. 

79.  to  an  Aspen  \  in  Gascoigne's  Princely  Pleasures  (1^76)  2siht\A 
converts  Inconstancy  into  a  quivering  poplar. 

82.  tume  me  to  some  goodly  Asse :  allusion  to  the  De  Asino  of  Apu- 
leius,  where  Fotis  the  witch  so  transforms  the  hero  Lucius. 

92.  grissels :  gristle  is  cartilage  that  may  harden  into  bone  ;  so  here 
of  tender,  immature  young  girls. 

94.  Animus^  &c. ;  Ov.  Ars  Amat.  ii.  535  (Bale.). 

95.  orient:  Pliny  mentions  Arabia  and  India  as  the  locale  of  the 
finest  pearls ;  but  the  word  here  carries  some  sense  of  the  opaline  tints  of 
dawn.     Cf.  Woman^  iii.  2.  9. 

95  sqq.    Cf.  Thisbe  on  Pyramus,  Mids.  N.  Dr,  v.  i.  337-45. 

96.  watchet :  light  blue  colour.  Nares  says  probably  from  wad  or 
wocui,  and  quotes  Browne's  Brit,  Past,  ii.  3  *  watchet  deepened  with  a 
blew*;  and  Skeat  refers  to  The  Milleres  Tale,  3321  'Al  in  a  kirtel  of 
a  light  wachet.' 

P.  71,  101.  curtoll'.  Baker  supposes  a  pun  on  *curtal,'  a  bob  tailed 
horse  ;  and  the  idea  may  find  faint  support  in  the  following  words,  walke 
.  . .  cold,  of  exercising  a  fiery  horse. 

107.  graue  ,  .  .  grauitie :  the  dying  Mercutio  repeats  the  pun,  Rom. 
and  Jul.  iii.  i.  103. 

5.  If  Bagoa  had  not  bewraied  it , , ,  Golde  and  fayre  words',  the 
motives  which  actuated  Bagoa  in  the  play  would  seem  from  ii.  3.  p.  30 
pity  and  admiration  for  Endimion.  It  is  the  more  difficult,  or  perhaps 
needless,  to  find  any  original  of  Bagoa ;  inasmuch  as  what  is  represented 
in  the  play  as  a  plot  against  Endimion,  which  required  some  one  to  reveal 
it,  was  in  the  actual  events  simply  the  publication  of  facts  that  damaged 
him,  publication  about  which  there  was  no  concealment ;  so  that  Bagoa's 
function  has  no  precise  counterpart  in  the  facts,  though  in  the  Essay, 
p.  100,  I  have  suggested  for  her  Lady  Lennox. 

12.  her  deadliest  foes  , ,  .  iniuries  of  her  traynei  this  distinction, 
which  seems  to  militate  against  our  identifying  Tellus  with  the  Queen  of 
Scots,  must  be  considered  as  intentional  mystification  on  Lyly*s  part 
Though  Mary  had  been  clearly  proved  to  be  a  party  to  Norfolk's  treason, 
and  Parliament  had  petitioned  for  her  death  in  1572,  she  had  been 
spared;  and  her  confinement  in  1573-4  seems  to  have  been  far  from 
rigorous. 

P.  72,  42.  rented:  torn,  participle  of  *  rent '«=  rend;  cf.  iv.  3.  22,  and 
Euph,  ii.  17  1.  29  'renting  his  clothes  and  tearing  his  haire,'  and  Sir  Th* 
Elyot's  Governour,  Proheme  *  to- rente  and  deface  the  renoume  of  wryters ' 
(Cent,  Diet,). 


Si8  NOTES 

P.  73,  62.  vnacquainted\  unknown.  So  GalL  iii.  4«  58  ;  Loves  Met, 
i.  2.  145.  Cf.  2  Henry  IV,  v.  2.  139  *  things  acquainted  and  ^uniliar 
to  us.' 

80.  colour :  explain,  excuse. 
P.  74, 88.  breaketh  .  .  .  and neuer hrooseth,  8lc  i  dLEuph,  ii.76Li,&c 

98.  a  continuall  burning,  &c. :  besides  the  ordinary  metaphor  of  the 
fires  of  love,  I  think  we  have  here,  as  in  Tellus*  last  speech  but  one, 
another  contribution  to  the  purely  physical  allegory  of  the  Moon  and 
the  Earth. 

110.  smooth  shoe  vppon  a  crooked  foote  i  refers  to  the  story  of  the 
cripple  Demonides,  Plut  De  Aud.  Poet,  iii,  alluded  to  Eupk,  i.  179  1.  27  ; 
and  cf.  vol.  ii.  7  1.  6. 
P.  76,  120.  enioying :  experience. 

122.  haue  him  in  the  obiect  of  mine  eyes :  a  rare  use  of  *  object '  for 
aspect,  sight,  appearance.  *  He  advancing  close  |  Up  to  the  lake,  past 
all  the  rest, arose  |  In  glorious  object*  (Chapman):  and  'The  object  of 
our  misery  is  as  an  inventory  to  particularise  their  abundance,'  Cori- 
olanus,  i.  i.  21  ((Cent,  Diet,). 

124.  fryed  my  selfe :  Euph.  i.  205  1.  4.  '  Lucilla,  who  now  began  to 
frie  in  the  flames  of  loue,*  &c. 

126.  I  founde  him  in  most  melancholic,  &c.:  referring  to  Act  ii. 

Sc  I. 

P.  76,  157.  but  in  that  shee  saide  / .  .  .  swore  to  honour  her :  in  i.  2.  7 
on  her  first  entrance  Tellus  spoke  to  Floscula  of  Endimion's  *  oathes 
without  number '  and  '  kisses  without  measure  * ;  and  Endimion's  soliloquy 
ii.  3.  II  seems  to  imply  amatory  relations  with  her:  but  in  iL  i.  22  he 
tells  us  that  he  has  used  her  but  as  a  cloak  for  his  love  for  Cynthia ; 
and,  whatever  the  historical  facts,  Lyly  does  not  intend  to  represent  his 
hero  as  strongly  swayed  by  any  other  passion. 

P.  77,219.  Speakes  the  Parratli  a  conventional  expression  of  con- 
tempt for  some  previous  remark.  Speke  Parrot  is  the  title  by  which 
Skelton  excuses  his  abusive  attack  on  Wolsey  (Fairholt).  Cf.  Mercury's 
indignant  comment  on  Nature's  gift  of  his  eloquence  to  Pandora,  *  Thou 
pretty  Parrat  speake  a  while  *  ( Woman  in  Moone,  i.  I.  116). 

P.  78,  230.  wanting  a  tongue  to  blase  the  beautie  of  Semele  :  if  my 
conjecture  for  the  originals  of  Eumenides  and  Semele  be  correct,  this 
may  be  an  allusion  to  some  of  the  Astrophel  and  Stella  sonnets,  first 
printed  in  159I1  but  handed  about  in  manuscript  for  some  years  before, 
and  mainly,  if  not  entirely,  composed  after  Lady  Penelope's  marriage  to 
Lord  Rich  early  in  1581. 

239.  with  what  sodaine  mischiefe,  &c. :  cf.  Portia's  words  when 
Bassanio  selects  the  right  casket 

'  O  love  !  be  moderate ;  allay  thy  ecstasy ; 
In  measure  rein  thy  joy ;  scant  this  excess : 


ENDIMION  S19 

I  feel  too  much  thy  blessing ;   make  it  less. 

For  fear  I  surfeit ! '  Merchant  of  Ven,  iii.  2.  1 1 1. 

243.  louely  looke :  loving  look.  This  union  of  Tellus  with  Corsites 
is  apparently  the  sole  ground  Halpin  has  for  regarding  Sir  Edward 
Stafford  as  the  original  for  the  latter.  He  was  married  to  Lady  Douglas 
Sheffield  after  the  disturbance  in  1579,  by  Leicester's  persuasion;  but 
seems  not  to  have  been  a  soldier,  nor  to  have  taken  any  such  part  in 
Lady  Sheffield's  previous  history  as  might  support  the  analogy  with 
Tellus.     See  essay  on  the  Allegory,  above,  pp.  91-2. 

265.  will  you  admit  her  to  your  Wife  f  :  the  quarrel  between  the 
£arl  and  Countess  of  Shrewsbury  was  actually  composed  by  Elizabeth's 
means,  but  not  before  1586  (Calendar  of  State  Papers^  Domestic,  1581- 
1590) ;  and  in  1589  we  find  the  Queen  again  writing  to  the  Earl  to  allow 
his  wife  access  to  him. 
P.  79,  267.  leude :  wicked. 

277.  this  tree :  Baker  notes  that  the  tree  seems  to  have  been  placed 
on  the  stage  at  some  time  subsequent  to  the  beginning  of  the  scene,  where 
Panelion  speaks  of  *  an  Aspen  tree,*  not  *  this  Aspen  tree.' 

284.  a  dots  vpon  thee  I  \  ^9l  kind  of  worms  troublesome  to  horses ' 
(Halliwell).     Petruchio's  horse  has  them,  Taming^  iii.  2.  54. 

P.  80,  Epilogue \  'made  from  the  third  of  the  fables  of  Avienus, 
usually  printed  as  Aesop's'  (Baker).  Lyly  has  employed  it  before  in 
Euphues'  letter  of  advice  to  Philautus  on  the  management  of  his  wife, 
Euph,  and  his  England^  ii.  224  U.  7-15. 


MIDAS. 

P.  114,  8.  Dram.  Pers.  Licio,  Page  to  Calia^  &c :  Dilke  and  Fairholt 
simply  bracket  the  three  boys  as  '  Servants,'  describing  Pipenetta  also  as 
*  a  Servant,'  and  including  Caelia  simply  among  the  *  Ladies  of  the  Court' ; 
but  from  i.  2.  i  and  113-5  it  seems  clear  that  Licio,  Petulus,  and  Pipenetta 
all  belong  to  Mellacrites'  household,  while  Minutius  (iv.  3.  79)  is  distinct. 
19.  Erato  :  see  note  on  iv.  i.  34. 
Scene  :   Phrygia  and  Delphi,    But  see  note  on  Act  iv.  Scene  i. 

P-  139. 
P.  115.  The  Prologve  in  Pavles  :  i.  e.  in  the  singing-room  of  the 

Paul's  choir,  where  they  rehearsed  the  plays  subsequently  to  be  given  at 

Court.    The  higher  price  charged  for  admission  to  these  *  exercises' 

(cf.  the  marginal  note  in  Pappe^  p.  408  *  If  it  be  shewed  at  Paules,  it  will 

cost  you  foure  pence:  at  the  Theater  two  pence:  at  Sainct  Thomas 

a  Watrings  nothing '),  and  the  more  select  character  of  the  audience, 

alluded  to  at  the  end  of  the  present  prologue  and  mjack  Drunks  Enter^ 


520  NOTES 

tainment^  pub.  1601  (Collier,  i.  273),  indicates  not  only  the  smallness  of 
the  space  available  as  auditorium,  but  also  perhaps  that  such  a  use  of  the 
singing-room  was  connived  at  rather  than  officially  recognized.  Malone 
(ed.  Bos  well,  ii.  194)  tells  us  it  was  situate  'behind  the  ConvocatioD 
House.* 

3.  sacietie :  a  recognized,  though  now  obsolete,  variant. 
5.  the  Tayler , . .  ^one  to  ike  Paynters^  &c. :  Fairholt  quotes  in  illus- 
tration Ben  Jonson's  The  Staple  of  Newes — 

I  pray  thee  tell  me,  Fashioner,  what  authors 
Thou  read' St  to  help  thy  invention  ?    Italian  prints  ? 
Or  Arras  hangings?  they  are  taylors'  libraries,     [i.  i.] 
For  the  variety  of  English  fashions,  see  Euphues,  ii.  194  1.  15  note. 

8.  notes  beyonde  Ela :  i.e.  beyond  E,  the  highest  note  in  the  Hexa- 
chord,  indicated  in  Solmisation  by  the  general  name  E  la  nti^  because  it 
would  bear  either  of  those  names  according  as  the  hexachord  began  on 
G,  F,  or  C.  See  note  on  '  scarce  sing  sol  fa  .  .  .  straine  aboue  £  la,' 
Euphues^  ii.  3  1.  24,  and  on  M,  Bomb,  ii.  i.  132  'his  knauerie  is  beyond 
Ela^  &  yet  he  knowes  not  Gam  vt? 

9.  picktooths  for  the  Spaniard  \  Whitney  says  that  an  umbelliferous 
plant,  Ammi  Visnaga,  has  received  the  name  of  *  picktooth  *  on  account 
of  the  use  made  in  Spain  of  the  rays  of  its  main  umbel 

10.  porridge :  Pottage,  the  variant  in  Blount,  occurs  again  for  por- 
ridge in  Euphuesy  i.  189  1.  33  E  rest. 

our  exercises :  the  same  term  is  applied  to  their  performances  in  the 
Blackfriars*  Prol.  to  Sapho  and  Phao, 

14.  Arras  J  full  of  deuise ;  the  fancifulness  of  the  products  of  the 
Arras  loom  is  alluded  to  Euphues^  ii.  8  L  5. 

23.  he  is  idle :  see  Life,  p.  47. 

26.  Stirps  rudis^  &c. :  the  opposition  of  rose  and  nettle  (cf.  Sapko,  v. 
2.  74,  and  often)  and  the  bad  jingle  at  the  end  perhaps  indicate  the 
motto  as  Lyly's  own. 

P.  lie.  Act  I.  Scene  l,— Gardens  before  Midas*  Palace  i  that  this 
scene,  which  nothing  compels  us  to  change  in  the  first  three  Acts,  and 
a  return  to  which  may  be  supposed  in  v.  2,  is  laid  in  the  open  air  is  clear 
from  the  *  stick '  and  *  stone '  which  Midas  picks  up  at  11.  100-3,  and  the 
proposal  *  let  vs  in '  near  the  end  of  sec.  i  and  2  :  that  it  is  near  the  palace 
may  be  inferred  from  the  presence  of  the  princess  and  her  ladies,  and  that 
of  the  pages,  as  well  as  from  the  words  of  Mellacrites  at  the  end  of  iii.  3. 

2.  receiue  good  turns :  the  service,  namely,  rendered  to  Silenus ;  see 
1.  108,  and  under  Sources. 

18.  Magnis  tamen  excidit  ausis :  of  Phaethon,  Ov.  Met,  ii.  328. 

22.  Eristus,  Were  J  a  king,  &c, :  *  This  contest  between  Eristus, 
Martius,  and  Mellacrites  seems  to  be  an  imitation  of  a  passage  in  the 
third  and  fourth  chapters  of  the  first  book  of  Esdras,  on  the  comparative 


MIDAS  521 

strength  of  wine,  the  king,  and  women  *  (Dilke,  Old  English  Play 5^  vol.  i). 
The  resemblance,  however,  is  but  slight.  It  seems  more  certain  that  the 
scene  suggested  to  Bacon  the  six  councillors  of  the  Prince  of  Purpoole  in 
Gesta  Grayorum^  1594. 

P.  117,  39.  gold:  this  is  the  sinewes  ofwarre,  &c. :  with  this  eulogy  of 
gold  compare  the  lines  in  Timon  of  Athens^  iv.  3.  26-46,  381--392. 

49.  Quantum  quisque  sua,  &c. :  Juvenal,  Sat,  iii.  143. 

50.  ballance  are :  the  uninflected  form  used  again  with  a  plural  verb 
at  1.  92.  Dilke  compares  Merchant  of  Ven,  iv.  i.  254  *  Arc  there  balance 
here  to  weigh  the  flesh  ? '    *  I  have  them  ready.* 

quarenda pecunia primum  est,  &c. :  Hon  Ep,  i.  I.  53. 

53.  &*  genus  &*formam,  &c. :  Hor.  Ep.  i.  6.  37. 

57.  Aurea  sunt  veri,  &c. :  Ov.  Art,  Am,  ii.  277. 

59.  taken  vp  on  interest :  i.  e.  at  command  of  him  who  has  gold. 

tempt  .  .  .  true  Subiectes :  allusion  to  Philip's  intrigues  in  England. 

62.  quid  non  tnortalia,  &c. :  Virg.  Aen,  iii.  56. 
P.  118,  64.  bred  in  the  barrennest  ground*,  Pliny,  xxxiii.  21  *montes 
Hispaniae  aridi  sterilesque,  et  in  quibus  [nihil]  aliud  gignatur,  huic  bono 
[sc.  auro]  coguntur  fertiles  esse.*    Cf.  Act  ii.  2.  6  and  Gall,  Prol. 

66.  In  the  councel  of  the  gods,  was  not  Anubis*  .  .  .  preferred  before 
Neptunes,  &c. :  I  retain  Neptunes,  the  reading  of  the  old  eds.,  which  may 
be  right  (sub.  counsel),  Anubis  also  being  possessive.  In  Lucian's  Jupiter 
Tragoedus,  7,  Mercury,  being  ordered  to  seat  the  gods  in  council  accord- 
ing to  the  value  of  the  material  of  which  their  statues  were  fashioned, 
answers  Neptune's  complaint  of  priority  given  to  Anubis  by  reminding 
him  that  in  the  absence  of  gold  at  Corinth  Lysippus  had  made  his  statue 
of  bronze.  *Av€\€a'Bat  ovp  XP^  irapttaviuvov  jcat  yJ)  ayapaicTtiv,  ct  rc(  piva 
TTjXiKavrrjp  xpvcrriv  t\€av  npOT€Tifirp-ai  aov,  A  little  lower  ApoUo  is  ranged 
amongst  the  {€vyiTai ;  and  is  opposed  to  Aesculapius  at  a  similar  scene  in 
the  Deorum  Concilium, 

78.  golden  winges  ,  , ,  Swannes  winges :  the  wonted  references  to 
Danae  and  Leda,  so  often  found  together  in  Lyly. 

80.  Hippomanes I  i.e.  Hippomenes,  Ov.  Afet,  x.  575. 

83.  a  wagtaile :  as  a  synonym  for  impudence  in  King  Lear,  ii.  2.  73. 
Res  est  ingeniosa  dare :  Ov.  Amor,  i.  8.  62.   Cf.  Saph,  and Ph,  i.  4. 27. 

84.  gates  of  cities  , , ,  opened ,  , .  of  IcUe :  referring,  perhaps,  to  the 
English  surrender  of  Gertruydenberg  to  the  Spaniards,  after  an  attack  on 
the  town  by  Count  Maurice  of  Nassau.  The  English  garrison,  whose  pay 
was  in  arrear,  received  from  Spain  twelve  months'  pay  and  a  gratuity  of 
Ave  months'  in  addition.  The  town  was  handed  over  April  10,  1589. 
(Motley's  United  Netherlands,  ii.  545-6.) 

86.  Sub  loue  nunc  mundus,  &c :  still  unfound. 
88.  the  Moones  braines :  implying  that  only  a  lunatic  would  dream  of 
doing  without  money. 


522  NOTES 

97.  blesse  thy  guest :  like  f «Vof  or  hosfes,  for  *  host.'  Ovid  {Met,  xL 
98)  represents  Midas,  after  entertaining  Silenus  in  Phrygia,  as  repairing 
with  him  to  Lydia  and  there  restoring  him  to  Bacchus :  but  from  the 
opening  of  this  scene  it  is  obvious  that  Bacchus  has  been  Midas' 
guest. 

99-103.  Take  vp  this  stone  . . .  This  stick :  Ov.  Me/,  xi.  108-10 
'Vixque  sibi  credens,  non  alta  fronde  virentem 
nice  detraxit  virgam ;  virga  aurea  facta  est. 
Tollit  humo  saxum;  saxum  quoque  palluit  auro.' 
P.  119,  109.  Panatn  pro  tnunere  poscis :  Hense  notes  the  anachronistic 
use  of  Latin  quotations  in  the  mouth  of  Phrygian  lords  or  Greek  gods— 
*  Dass  auch  Bacchus  lateinische  Citate  braucht,  ist  an  sich  nicht  zu  ver- 
wundem  ;  es  mag  aber  auffallen,  dass  er  die  angefiihrten  Worte  der  Rede 
des  Sonnengottes  entlehnt,  mit  welcher  dieser,  bei  Ovid  Metam.  ii.  99,den 
Phaethon  vor  der  Annahme  des  gefahrlichen  Geschenkes  gewamt  hatte.' 
Jahrbuch  der  Deutschen  Shakespeare-Gesellschaft^  Bd.  vii.  254.     At  L  18 
Midas  has  compared  himself  by  anticipation  to  Phaethon    and  quoted 
I.  328  from  the  same  book  of  Ovid. 

111.  these  petty  ilandsy  &c. :  identified  in  iv.  i.  171  as  Lesbos,  Le. 
England. 

114.  chast  Celia  shall yeeld\  Midas*  unsuccessful  suit  to  Caelia  (cf.iL 
I.  20  sqq.)  may  possibly  allude  to  Philip's  former  proposal  for  the  hand 
of  Elizabeth.  In  1584  there  was  talk  of  a  marriage  between  him  and 
Catherine  de  Medici  (Motley's  United  Netherlands^  i.  69). 

1.  Mellacrites  . . .  his  daughter',  probably  Caelia  is  meant.  See  note 
on  Dram,  Pers. 

3.  The  Masculin  gender  . . ,  feminine  \  taken  verbally  from  LiDy  and 
Colet's  Latin  Grammar,  A  Shorte  Introduction,  &c.,  sig.  c  iiij  recto. 

4.  bcukare :  a  cant  word  meaning  '  go  back ! ',  borrowed  from  the 
proverbial  saying  '  Backare,  quoth  Mortimer  to  his  sow,'  ridiculing  un> 
founded  pretension  to  a  knowledge  of  Latin  (Nares).  Cf.  Tcuning  of  the 
Shrew ^  ii.  73  *  Baccare !  you  are  marvellous  forward.' 

10.  my  mistres  is  a  proper  woman :  Fairholt  points  out  that  Laonce's 
catalogue  of  his  mistress'  virtues  (Two  Gentlemen,  iii.  i)  in  talk  i»ith 
Speed  is  probably  borrowed  from  this  scene.  Shakespeare's  play  was 
probably  produced  in  1592  or  1593.  Licio,  however,  isCaelia's  attendant, 
not  her  lover. 

P.  120,  30.  hcusardi  each  of  the  winning  openings  in  a  tennis-court; 
viz.  in  modem  tennis,  the  dedans,  the  grille  and  the  last  gallery.  So 
Henry  V,  i.  2.  263  k  propos  of  the  Dauphin's  present  of  tennis-balls 
Henry  promises  that  he  '  will  in  France  .  . .  play  a  set  shall  strike  his 
father's  crown  into  the  hazard.' 

37.  tire :  Fr.  tirer,  of  a  hawk  pulling  or  worrying  the  quarry  with  its 
beak.    Cf.  Euph,  i.  325  L  10  '  tyred  at  a  dry  breast.' 


MIDAS  523 

41.  leaden  dagger  in  a  veluette  sheath  :  a  favourite  proverb  with  Lyly ; 
cf.  Eufih,  i.  215  1.  9,  255  1.  30  '  painted  sheth  . . .  leaden  dagger/ 

45.  *  a  rope  for  Parrot ' :  this  and  the  preceding  were  phrases  taught 
to  parrots.    Dilke  quotes  Butler's  Hudibras 

* —  could  tell  what  subtlest  parrots  mean, 
That  speak  and  think  contrary  clean ; 
What  member  'tis  of  whom  they  talk, 
When  they  cry  rqfe,  and  waik^  knave^  walk* 
F.  121,  51.  sweet  tooth  of  a  calfei  which  would  take  a  lump  of  sugar 
from  the  hand. 

55.  a  IVanty  a  Mole :  so  still  in  Somerset 
58.  aske  her  a  question :  i.  e.  an  improper  one. 

65.  Beetle  browed \  with  overhanging  brows.  Dilke  quotes  'the 
dreadful  summit  of  the  cliff  |  That  beetles  o'er  his  base/  Hamlet^  i.  4.  71. 

66.  hast  a  beetle  head*,  i.e.  a  stupid  head,  a  head  like  a  heavy 
rammer.     2  Henry  IV^  i.  2.  255  '  a  three-man  beetle.* 

75.  The  purtenances :  Fairholt  quotes  from  the  comedy  of  Lingua^ 
1607,  a  similar  but  even  lengthier  catalogue  of  articles  of  ladies*  dress,  not 
confined,  as  here,  to  the  head. 

77-80.  caules ;  nets.  Knotstrings,  for  fastening  on  a  knot  or  bunch  of 
ribbon.  CoifeSy  caps  tied  under  the  chin.  Borders^  embroideries  to  trim 
the  edge  of  a  cap.  Crippins^  variant  of  crepines  or  crespins  (Fr.  crdpines)^ 
nets  for  the  hair,  or  else  a  part  of  the  hood.  Shadowes,  broad-brimmed 
hats.  Spots,  patches,  beauty-spots.  Cf.  Petulus  to  Motto  v.  2.  110  *  You 
were  best  weare  a  veluet  patch  on  your  temples  too.' 

P.  122,  90.  rigge :  *  The  verb  rigge,  to  be  wanton,  occurs  in  Levins,  col. 
119  1.  6.  Cp.  "running  such  a  rig,"  i.e.  frolic,  prank,  in  Cowper's/^^n 
Gilpin '  (Skeat).    Cf.  Ant,  &*  CI.  iu  2.  245  *  riggish.' 

92.  cases :  Petulus'  reply  affects  to  understand  it  as '  skins.'  Cf.  Beau, 
and  Flet.'s  I^ing  and  No  King,  iv.  3.  82  *  nor  no  man  else  that  bears  |  His 
soul  in  a  skin-coat.' 

95.  takings*,  predicaments.  'My  taking  is  as  bad  or  worse  than 
hers,'  Ben  Jonson's  The  Case  is  Altered^  iii.  3  (Whitney). 

101.  prettie  mops*,  again  to  Pipenetta,  ii.  2.  53. 

103,  Hares  . . .  male  one  yere,  and  the  next  female:  Pliny,  viii.  81, 
repeats  a  statement  of  Archelaus  that  the  same  individual  in  this  species 
possesses  the  characteristics  of  the  two  sexes,  and  becomes  pregnant  just 
as  well  without  the  male.  Fairholt  says  the  superstition  is  reproduced  in 
Topsell's  Historie  of  Four-footed  Beasts,  1607. 

105.  Bcuigers  . . .  legs :  the  fore-legs  are,  or  seem,  longer  than  the  hind. 

113-4.  my  master . . .  his  fagex  i.e.  Petulus  ;  Pipenetta  belonging, 
like  them,  to  the  household  of  Mellacrites. 

120.  //  is  her  owne  when  shee  pates  far  ii :  Fairholt  traces  the  joke  to 
Martial,  Epigr.  vi.  12— 


524  NOTES 

'  lurat  capiUos  esse,  quos  emit,  suos 
Fabulla:  numquid,  Paulle,  peierat?  nego,* 

and  says  the  custom  of  wearing  false  hair  dates  from  ancient  Eg)?!, 
deca)'ed  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  was  revived  in  the  seventeenth  century. 
P.  123,  127.  angeis  are  gold  \  a  small  gold  coin,  value  ten  shillings. 
141.  drinks  of  a  drie  cufifie:  alluding  to  the  phrase  'a  dry  beating.* 
'  dry '  being  intensive. 
P.  124,  17.  a  new  shadow  i  probably,  a  new  portrait  of  themseh-es. 
25.  Quorum  si  singula^  &c:  Ov.  Met,  ix.  6o8 

'quorum  si  singula  duram 
Flectere  non  poterant,  potuissent  omnia  mentem.' 

Quoted  also  in  Lyl/s  second  edition.  Life,  p.  71. 

47.  his  meai  tumeth  to  massie  gold^  &c :  Ov.  Afei.  xi.  123-6 

'  Sive  dapes  avido  convellere  dente  parabat. 
Lamina  fulva  dapes,  admoto  dente,  nitebant. 
Miscuerat  puris  auctorem  muneris  undis, 
Fusile  per  rictus  aurum  fluitare  videres.' 

P.  126,  55.  croumes\  the  gold  crown-piece  was  first  struck  by 
Henry  VIII,  and  bore  the  royal  arms  on  one  side  and  the  crowned  rose 
of  England  on  the  other  (Fairholt)  ;  they  were  also  coined  by  Edward  VI 
and  Elizabeth  (Dilke). 

60.  gyude ;  gyves  were  property  leg-fetters.  Ben  Jonson  uses 
*  golden  gyves  *  figuratively  (Dilke). 

67.  to  follow  a  Louerwith  a  gloue  in  hishattei  i.e.  either  to  imitate 
him,  or  to  play  second  fiddle  to  him.  For  the  glove  in  hat  see  note  on 
Campaspe^  iv.  3.  22,  which  passage  may  be  compared  with  this. 

70.  so  rich :  provided  he  is  rich,  so  being  parallel  to  if  in  the  other 
clause. 

75.  golden  ruddocks :  ruddock^  i.  e.  robin  redbreast,  is  used  meta- 
phorically for  coins  of  red  gold  (Fairholt). 

82.  of  his  mistres  fauour :  of  the  colours  she  favours. 
P.  126,  88.  The  hue  hee  hath  followed— I  fear e  vnncUurallx  these 
words,  repeated  by  Midas  himself  v.  3.  61,  were  probably  inserted  by 
Lyly  on  the  play's  publication  in  1 592  in  reference  to  the  report,  widely 
circulated  at  that  time,  that  Philip  actually  contemplated  a  union  with 
his  own  daughter  by  Isabella  of  France,  the  Infanta  Clara  Isabella,  who, 
if  the  Salic  law  could  be  set  aside,  was  heiress  to  the  French  crown.  Sir 
Edward  Stafford,  the  English  ambassador  to  France,  stated  in  a  letter  of 
1592  that  Henry  IV  had  assured  him  that  Philip  had,  through  Olivarez  the 
Spanish  ambassador  at  Rome,  importuned  Sixtus  V  before  the  latter*s 
death  in  1590  to  grant  him  a  dispensation  for  the  marriage  (Motley's 
United  Netherlands y  iii.  193).  But  the  reference  might  be  to  his  proposal 
to  marry  Elizabeth,  after  his  previous  marriage  to  her  sister  Mary. 


MIDAS  525 

100,  as  the  yEgypiians  did  dogs :  a  reference  to  the  dog-faced  Anubis : 
see  note  on  p.  118  1.  66  above. 

101.  vtmost  fartes  of  the  West  .  .  .  gold*,  alluding,  as  Dilke  points 
out,  to  the  American  possessions  of  Spain. 

111.  roses  .  .  .  stalke  .  .  .  still \  the  same  imagery  is  used  Sapho 
and  Phao^  ii.  i.  109-10  and  Euphues^  i.  203  11.  15-6. 

P.  127,  126.  Calia  .  .  .  my  father  think  of  no  meat :  at  the  end  of 
i.  I  Midas  acknowledged  a  passion  for  Caelia.  Sophronia*s  anxious  care 
for  her  father  in  bis  famine  is  repeated  in,  or  from,  Protea  and  Erisichthon 
in  L(n>es  Metamorphosis, 

3.  /  see  it  J  andfeele  it  not :  i.  e.  she  cannot  get  her  band  on  any  of  it. 

6.  of  barren  ground :  see  note  on  i.  i.  64. 

12.  Blirt  to  you  both/z  this  exclamation  of  contempt  has  been 
abundantly  illustrated  (see  Nares).  Skeat  considers  the  verb  *  blurt,* 
to  deride,  to  be  formed  from  blore  or  blare ^  and  to  mean  originally  *  to 
blow,'  i.  e.  to  puff  away  in  contempt. 

it  was  layd  by  the  Sunne :  popular  guess  anticipating  Laplace  and 
Herschel's  nebular  theory. 

18.  idle  .  .  .  addle \  as  often  elsewhere,  e.g.  Pappe^  p.  396  IL  29-30. 

21.  crackt  crowne :  uncurrent,  if  the  crack  extended  within  the  circle 
round  the  sovereign's  head  ;  Hamlet,  ii.  2.  448,  and  Woman^  iii.  2.  266. 

P.  128,  37.  golde  boy  Id,  for  a  consuming  bodie  \  the  efficacy  of  aurum 
potabile  was  a  subject  of  dispute  among  mediaeval  physicians.  *  Mat- 
thiolus  in  the  same  place  approves  of  potable  gold,  ....  and  holds  *'  no 
man  can  be  an  excellent  physician  that  hath  not  some  skill  in  chemisticall 
distillations,  and  that  chronic  diseases  can  hardly  be  cured  without 
mineral  medicines."  *  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  Part  2.  Sec.  4.  i, 
4.     Cf.  *  Argentum  potabile,*  M.  Bomb,  ii.  2.  18. 

41.  a  portague :  a  Portuguese  coin  worth  four  pound  ten  shillings,  as 
explained  by  Weber  in  a  note  on  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Sea-  Voyage 
(Dilke). 

45.  dowe-baked :  i.  e.  half-baked,  insufficiently  considered. 

55.  He  hath  made  a  spoke :  i.  e.  put  a  spoke  in  your  wheel. 

56.  our  masters :  spoken  generally,  *  our  betters.*  All  three  were  of 
Mellacrites'  household. 

P.  129,  72.  If  Mars  should  answere  thee,  &c. :  Dilke  is  probably  right 
in  detecting  a  reminiscence  of  the  story  of  Naaman  2  Kings  v.  13. 

83.  Sir  boies  you  wait  well :  as  Petulus'  answer  shows,  this  refers 
to  their  not  having  accompanied  the  councillors  on  their  expedition  to 
Bacchus'  temple  at  the  end  of  the  preceding  scene.  It  is  one  of  those 
back-references  which  show  that  Lyly  generally  intended  his  scenes 
as  continuous  in  time. 

89.  neermy  selfe  ....  neere  you  cu  your  skin  \  the  first  of  relation- 
ship or  connexion ;  the  second  of  one  injured  or  *  nearly  touched.* 


4 

I 

■ 

■4- 


526  NOTES 

3.  successe :  sequel,  issue,  as  often,  e.  g.  M.  Bomb.  iii.  i.  10  ' 
to  the  succes  of  fortune,  who,  though  she  hath  framd  vs  miserable,  a 
make  vs  monstrous.' 
P.  130,  8.  my  minde  were  also  a  myne :  i.  e.  as  dark. 

12-13.  What  should  I  doo  .  .  .  seauen  foote  0/  earth  t :  the  1 
sentiment,  originally  from  Plutarch  (de  Educ,  8),  is  repeated  in  Eup^ 
i.  314  1.  35,  Campaspe^  v.  4.  49-53  (where  see  note),  and  i  Henry  I 
4.89. 

15.  tooke  small  vessells^  &c. :  an  allusion  to  the  freebooting  exi 
of  Drake  and  the  other  Elizabethan  seamen. 

20.  Diomedes  did  his  horse  with  blood*,  an  allusion  repeated  fron 
Epilogue  at  Court  to  Campaspe^  where  see  note. 

21.  Tivo  bookes  haue  I  alwaies  carried,  &c:    I   cannot  find 
Motley  reproduces  the  tale. 

26.  Get  14 Ha :  south  of  Mauretania,  but  probably  written  hastil] 
Galatia,  which,  like  Lycaonia,  borders  Phrygia.  '  Sola '  may  be  sugg< 
by  Soli  on  the  Cilician  coast. 

31.  made  the  sea  to  groane,  &c. :  unmistakable  allusion  to 
Armada.  The  expedition  against  Lesbos  must  be  supposed,  in  spi 
i.  I.  1 1 1,  to  have  occurred  before  the  commencement  of  the  play,  anc 
between  Acts  i  and  iii. 

34.  whom  hauing  made  slaues,  &c. :  Dilke  in  a  concluding  1 
written  in  1 8 14  before  Napoleon*s  escape  from  Elba,  points  out  with 
moral  indignation  the  close  applicability  of  this  speech  to  the  Empe 
career,  and  cannot  resist  admonishing  him  to  be  content  with  the  pos 
the  lenity  of  the  Allies  has  left  him. 

36.  to  destroy  their  natural  Kings :  referring  to  the  plots  to  ass: 
nate  Elizabeth  and  William  of  Orange.  In  regard  to  the  former  ma 
instanced  that  for  which  Dr.  William  Parry  suffered  death  at 
beginning  of  March,  1585.  Motley,  speaking  of  this  year,  says  *T 
was  hardly  a  month  in  which  intelligence  was  not  sent  by  English  ag 
out  of  the  Netherlands  and  France,  that  assassins,  hired  by  Philip,  1 
making  their  way  to  England  to  attempt  the  life  of  the  Queen  *  (Uh 
Netherlands,  i.  305).  Many  attempts,  instigated  from  Spain,  were  n 
on  the  Prince  of  Orange's  life,  e.g.  one  in  1582,  one  in  1583,  and  on 
1584  before  that  by  which  he  fell  on  the  tenth  of  July  in  the  same  y 
See  Motley's  Dutch  Republic,  iii.  407,  457,  467. 

38.  vipers  that  gnctwe  the  bowels,  &c. :  cf.  Euphues,  ii.  5  1.  5  *  with 
Viper,  loose  my  bloud  with  mine  own  brood,*  they  were  supposed 
force  their  way  through  the  bowels  of  their  dam.  Pliny,  x.  83  j 
Browne's  Vulgar  Errors,  iii.  16. 

43.  traitours  to  me :  urging  that  excuse  for  attacking  them. 
P.  131,  44.  mens  hearts  would  bee  touched  with  gold:   Le.  tried 
by  a  touchstone.     Timon  0/ Athens,  iv.  3.  389  *  O,  thou  touch  of  heart 


MIDAS  527 

54.  Haue  not  all  treasons  .  .  .  by  miracle j8lci  compare  the  language 
of  EufhueSy  pp.  197,  208,  210.  Dilke  considers  this,  and  the  lines 
immediately  following  and  preceding,  as  added  at  a  later  date  in  allusion 
to  James  I  and  the  Gunpowder  Plot :  a  supposition  of  course  irrecon- 
cilable with  the  date  of  the  quarto,  1592. 

71.  of  kingdome  proof  ex  i.e.  of  metal  that  is  proof  against  another 
kingdom*s  attack.  Proof  subst.  as  Rich,  Illy  v.  3.  219  *  armed  in  proof.' 
F.  132,  82.  MartiuSy  thy  councell  hath  shed  as  much  bloudy  &c. :  there 
can  be  little  doubt  that  Martius  represents  the  Duke  of  Alva,  the  exponent 
of  the  tyrannical  policy  which  drove  the  Netherlands  into  revolt.  So 
identified  by  Halpin  and  M^i^res. 

8.  cunning  mens  charms  \  Fairholt  quotes  from  Reginald  Scot's 
Discouerie  of  Witchcraft  [1584,  not  1 585]  with  which,  as  we  saw  under 
Gallatheay  Lyly  was  familiar,  some  charms  repeated  for  toothache,  e.  g. 
*  Strigiles falseque  dentata  dentium  delorem  personate\  O  horsecombs  and 
sickles  that  have  so  many  teeth,  come  heale  me  now  of  my  tooth-ache.* 

10.  ouer-hearingvsi  so  Motto  below,  L  75,  apparently  in  the  sense 
of  *  overreach.* 

F.  133,  23.  herbage :  i.  e. '  harbourage ;  safe-keeping '  (Fairholt).  Usu- 
ally *harb-*  or  *  herbergage,'  but  from  a  Fr.  herberge  (N.E.D.). 

26.  badge  ofhairei  the  original  sense  of  badge  seems  to  have  been 
flag  or  standard. 

34.  the  knocking  of  the  hands :  Fairholt  quotes  a  passage  from 
Stubbes*  Anatomic  of  Abuses  to  show  that  snapping  both  of  fingers  and 
scissors  was  affected  by  barbers,  as  giving  a  finish  to  their  work ;  and 
also  from  Ben  Jonson's  Silent  Womany  i.  i,  where  Morose  approves 
his  barber,  Cutbeard,  because  4he  fellow  trims  him  silently,  and  has 
not  the  knack  with  his  sheers  or  his  fingers.' 

35.  tuning  of  a  Cittern ;  *  It  was  the  custom  to  keep  a  cittern, 
a  species  of  guitar  or  lute,  in  barbers'  shops  to  amuse  customers  waiting 
their  turn  to  be  operated  on.  In  Burton's  Winter  Evenings  Entertain^ 
mentSy  1687,  is  a  representation  of  a  barber's  shop,  where  a  person  waiting 
his  turn  is  playing  on  a  lute '  (Fairholt).  Dilke  quotes  from  the  Second 
Part  of  Dekker*s  Honest  WhorCy  where  Matheo  calls  his  wife  *  A  barber's 
cittern  for  every  serving-man  to  play  upon.' 

38.  ^  how  sir  will  you  be  trimmed?^  &c. :  Fairholt  has  a  long  note 
on  this  passage,  of  which  I  reproduce  some  details.  The  '  spade-beard ' 
was  long  and  cut  straight  across  the  bottom,  though  occasionally  rounded 
at  the  comers.  The  *  bodkin-beard '  or  pique-a-devant  beard  was  that 
usually  worn  by  Charles  I,  'sharp,  stiletto  fashion,  dagger-like'  as 
Taylor  the  Water- Poet  says  in  his  Superbiae  Flagellum,  The  'pent- 
house '  is  the  bushy  moustache  hanging  over  the  lip.  The  '  allie  on  the 
chin,'  Chaucer's  *  forked  beard,*  parted  the  beard  in  the  centre  of  the  chin 
to  hang  like  a  double  pendant    The  '  bull's  curls '  rose  one  upon  another 


528  NOTES 

in  dose  condgnky  upon  the  forehead.  The  'dang-ling  locks'  were 
coded  and  allo«ed  to  flow  over  the  shoulders.  The  'love-lock*  vzs 
a  single  lock  worn  long  on  the  left  side,  and  sometimes  twisted  in  a 
rihbon  or  tied  with  a  silken  how  at  the  end.  Dilke  quotes  from  Greene's 
Qvip  fi*r  tin  Vfstart  Courtier^  1592,  *Will  you  be  Frenchefied  with 
a  love-lock  down  >-oar  shoulders  wherein  yon  may  wear  your  mistress' 
fiivocr?'  In  EttdSm,  iiL  3.  35  Sir  Tophas  'feels  a  contention  whether 
he  shall  frame  the  bodkin- beard  or  the  bush.'    Cf.  Pappc^  p.  506  L  6. 

43.  Gcaifs  ^.ikesi  perhaps  explains  the  'lady's  dangling  flake' 
of  Marston's  1st  Satire. 

^S.  is  tk*i£  'SL\>riie  comt  into  the  Barbers  bason  f :  from  Lido's  later 
remjurk  v.  3.  107  it  is  rewme  that  must  be  regarded  as  the  'courtly 
tearme  *  which  surprises  him  in  Motto's  mouth,  rather  than  euaporated. 
Yet  the  former,  like  the  latter,  occurs  much  earlier  than  1 588.  Whitney 
quotes  the  Promftorium  Paruulorum  (printed  1499),  p.  432  '  RcivTne 
of  the  bed  or  of  the  breste.'  Probably  it  is  the  frequent  or  special 
application  of  the  term  that  was  new  in  fashion,  just  as  ten  years  since  but 
few  folk  claimed  to  have  had  the  influenza. 

P.  134,  59.  a  Barber  and  a  Surgeon :  the  two  professions  were  not 
dissevered  before  1745.  They  were  incorporated  as  early  as  1540,  when 
all  persons  merely  practising  shaving  were  forbidden  to  meddle  with 
surger)%  except  to  draw  teeth  and  let  blood,  unless  properly  qualified 
as  barber-surgeons.  .A.  work  entitled  //  Barbiero  by  a  Neapolitan  barber, 
Tiberio  Malti,  published  in  1626,  contains  engravings  of  various  surgical 
operations  (Fairholt). 

75.  ouerkeare  me :  cf.  above,  1.  10. 

85.  a  poire  of  virginals',  the  virginal,  or  virginals,  was  a  harpsichord 
or  spinet, '  called  so,  says  Blount  in  his  "  Glossographia,"  because  maids 
and  virgins  do  most  commonly  play  on  them '  (Dilke).  Paire  probably 
refers  to  the  double  row.  of  keys,  and  of  jacks,  which  Petulus  a  few  lines 
on  compares  to  the  double  row  of  his  teeth  ;  the  jacks  being  short  pieces 
of  wood  with  a  slip  of  quill  at  the  side  which  strikes  the  string  as  the  jack 
ascends,  while  in  its  descent  the  vibration  is  stopped  by  two  small  pieces 
of  cloth.     Or/rt/y^=set,  as  in  *  pair  of  stairs,'  *  pair  of  cards  *  fobs.). 

P.  135,  118.  maugre  his  beard:  proverbial  expression,  '  spite  of  all  he 
can  do.' 

128.  aishions  are  stuft  with  beards :  again  v.  2.  170,  where  Fairholt 
notes  it  as  a  jesting  satire  on  the  huge  beards  sometimes  worn,  and  com- 
pares Coriolanus,  ii.  i.  91  *  Your  beards  deserve  not  so  honourable  a  grave 
as  to  stufl*  a  botcher's  cushion.' 

P.  136,  141.  Pellitory  fetcht  from  Spaine:  Whitney  gives  '  Pellitory- 
of-Spain,  Anacyclus  Pyrethrum,  gfrowing  chiefly  in  Algeria.'  Its  root  is 
a  powerful  irritant  promoting  salivation. 

142.  Mastick's  a  patch :  i.  e.  gum-mastick  (a  gum  for  chewing  on) 


MIDAS  529 

is  a  fool,  of  no  use.    Dilke  supposes  it  would  be  used  for  stopping  a  bad 
tooth. 

149.  checkerd-apron  men :  *  A  barber  is  always  known  by  his 
checque  party-coloured  apron,'  Randle  Holme's  book  on  Heraldry  {The 
Academy  of  Armory,  1688  fol.),  quoted  by  Fairholt. 

153.  By  trickes  they  shaue  a  Kingdome  round \  probably  referring 
to  the  enormous  number  of  executions  by  the  scaffold,  the  stake,  or  the 
gibbet,  that  had  marked  Alva's  rule  in  the  Netherlands,  1 567-1573. 

13.  Qui  laius  arguerU,  &c. :  the  quotation  betrays  the  source  of 
Suavia's  scandalous  perversion  of  Penelope's  motive.  It  is  from  Ovid's 
A  mores y  i.  8.  48 : 

Penelope  iuvenum  vires  tentabat  in  arcu 

Qui  latus  argueret,  corneus  arcus  erat 

i.e.  arcus  qui  indicaret vires  lateris,erat  corneus ;  Hom.  Odys,xx\  gives  no 

hint  of  the  material,  though  the  Kop^vri,  or  tip,  would  naturally  be  of  hom. 

P.  137, 18.  what  shal  we  do  f  Ame.  Tel  tales,  &c. :  Fairholt  compares 

the  question  and  answer  of  the  Queen  and  her  Ladies  in  Richard  II,  iii.  4. 

33.  Hie  she  was  in  the  instep,  &c. :  '  high  instep '  implies  pride, 
*  short  heele '  feminine  frailty,  '  straitlaced '  stiffness  of  demeanour, 
not  strictness  of  morals.  Cf.  Euph,  i.  202  1.  24  'they  be  so  straight 
laced,  and  made  so  high  in  the  insteppe,  that  they  disdaine  them  most 
that  most  desyre  them.'  So  Philautus,  ii.  179  11.  4-6,  accuses  Fraunces  of 
*'  shorte  heeles '  and  '  high  instep.'  Dilke  remarks  that  Sue  Shortheels  is 
the  name  of  a  strumpet  in  Rowley's  A  Match  at  Midnight, 

37.  larkes . .  .  caught . . .  with  ...  a  glasse :  this  allusion  to  the  bird- 
catchers  is  explained  by  a  passage  in  Pettie's  Pallace  of  Pleasure  (1576) 
fol.  59  r.  '  For  as  the  Larketaker  in  his  day  Net  hath  a  glasse  whereon 
while  the  birdes  sit  and  gaze,  they  are  taken  in  the  Net,  so  your  face  hath 
sutch  a  glistering  glasse  of  goodlynesse  in  it,'  &c.  Fairholt  refers  to 
Hone's  Every-day  Book,  ii.  94  for  an  account  of  another  device  made 
with  glass  as  used  near  Abbeville  in  1827,  as  now  in  1902,  where  a  flat 
piece  of  wood  inlaid  with  small  bits  of  looking-glass  is  twisted  on  a  pin 
rapidly  by  a  string,  and  the  larks  who  hover  over  it,  attracted  by  the 
flashing  light,  are  easily  shot. 

40.  as  one  that  knew  her  good  \  so  Euph,  ii.  i6i  1.  29 ;  of  knowledge 
of  courtly  convenances  rather  than  of  a  sense  of  one's  own  interest. 

P.  138,  60.  would  make  the  tune  of  a  hart  out  of  tune ;  (i)  would  put 
her  lover's  heart,  now  out  of  tune,  in  tune  again;  or  (2)  would  have 
a  love-plaint  for  its  burthen. 

62.  plaine  song:  the  melody  without  the  variations,  the  vocal  part 
without  the  harmony. 

73.  Amerula, . . .  bitter,  your  name,  &c. :  Fr.  amire^  Lat.  amara. 
P.  139,  94.  standing  cup :  goblet  with  a  stand,  distinguished  from  a 
hom  or  vessel  that  would  require  to  be  emptied  before  being  set  down. 

BOND    111  M    in 


5J0  NOTES 


P.  Ua  Act  IV.  SdNK  L  GCjde  im  m  fmntsi  em  Mount  Tmalus 
.-"f»«h-i'  scese  of  tbe  ooccest  >  Or.  JM.  xL  156L  Cf.  Midas'  own  ao 
T.  jL  jgi~4^  Mrcac  Tskaficss  bs  propolT  in  the  neiglibouring  count 
LvcL  boc  aciT  ^e  Pksc&s.  Periiaps  Lyly  cfaose  to  regard  Phryj 
"■-'"^•'^^j  Ly.'T.u  lad  v.uoceiied  Midas^  like  Croesos,  as  having  his  c 
a:  Sires :  ci  Or.  .Wr.  xL  157  *  Vade,  ait  ad  magnis  vicinum  Sar 
aaxoesx.'  I^  bis  jccer  pcenxed  to  the  first  edition  of  Astropkei 
15^1.  N.KS&  iZTsies  to  *  Pan  sitting  in  his  bower  of  delights, 
:  of  >rxiisses  r?  adsiire  his  miserable  homepipes.' 
I.  Af^Ci^  -xkj  tmitis  Ae  Jk^iga£Ms  —  kanmony :  the  allusion  is  I 
ossac  or  ibe  saberes  Dilkc  :  and  I  cannot  bat  think  Shakespear 
;2£$  p&rase  a:^:  X  13-4 '  Had  thy  late  been  of  lawrelly  and  the  strii 
Dui&aes  base  *  in  sud  vben.  aboot  this  time,  he  wrote  in  Love's  Lai 

^"^^  i^-  5-  539 

'as  sweet  and  musical 

As  brij^t  ApeCo  s  lute,  strung  with  his  hair ; 

And.  wben  LoTe  speaks,  the  voice  of  all  the  gods 

Makes  hea^-en  drowsy  with  the  harmony.' 

Coapon?  too  :be  opening  of  the  song  in  Henry  VIII^  iiL  I  *  Orpheus 

h:s  hice  made  trees.*  &c. 

4.  Aficn^  tkii  ^cn^kl  D.^pkins :  Hyg.  Fab.  194. 

5.  Am  Mem  . . .  Tketes :  Horace,  Ars  PoeL  394. 

P.  140.  10.  This  pipe  . . .  ovi;^  cnu  a  Nymph :  the  transformatio 
the  Naiad  S^iinx.  pursued  by  Pan,  into  a  group  of  marsh  reeds  is 
iavention  of  Ovid,  M^t.  i.  690  sqq.    But  see  Lucretius,  iv.  5  88. 

S4.  My  Temple  is  in  Arcadie  .  .  •  Erato  the  Nympke^  &c. : 
passage  is  founded  on  that  in  the  *A/xaduca  of  Pausanias  (viii.  yj,  \  i ) 
rocry  r^  H^  ^?  oTxorr  airoa^tvwvfinHm  KaleraL.  Atytrtu  dc  i»r  n 
vaXocdrcpa  aii  /lorrrt'ocro  otiw  6  6f6Sf  wpoff>tjrt9  dc  *Eparaa  lo/fU^iyr 
ycWo^ot  ravTjp^  fj  'Apcodc  rw  KiiXXurrotr  avp^rjirf.  Properly  this  ny 
Erato,  who  appears  below  and  is  hlx  to  her  master,  is  to  be  distingui 
from  Erato,  the  Muse  of  lyric  and  erotic  poetry ;  but  it  is  doubtf 
Lyly  meant  to  do  so.  Cf.  Ov.  Arf,  Am,  ii.  16  'Nunc  mihi,  si  qua 
Puer  et  Cytherea,  fsivete :  |  Nunc  Erato ;  nam  tu  nomen  amoris  babe 
P.  141,  46.  Loue-Uaues :  probably  a  Kentish  name. 

47.  Jupiter  a  goose,  and  Neptune  a  swine  i  Pan  is  wilfully  misre 
senting  matters.  Jupiter  became  a  swan,  Neptune  a  bullock,  a  ri 
a  ram,  a  horse,  and  a  dolphin,  but  not  a  swine. 

56.  Pan  is  alli  i.  e.  iray  means  '  all.' 

68.  what  is  thy /olliel :  Le.  since  fortune  cannot  be  blamed,  the  1 
must  lie  with  yourself.  Midas  is  irritated  and  depressed ;  cH  his  < 
statement,  v.  3.  40-7.  Mellacrites  in  iii.  3.  loi  speaks  as  a  courtier  mei 
The  king's  attitude  is  intended  to  illustrate  Ovid's  '  pingue  sed  ingen 
mansit,'  Met.  zi.  148. 


MIDAS  531 

P.  142,  96.  consent:  harmony  of  voice  and  lute,  properly  concent, 

97.  Tha, :  Dilke  is  probably  right  in  correcting  Thia,  the  prefix  of 
the  old  editions,  to  Tha,  for  Thalia,  the  muse  of  Comedy. 

107.  Gitterne :  the  same  as  cittern  above,  iii.  2.  35,  as  is  shown  by 
Dilke's  quotation  from  Lord  Falkland's  Marriage  Nighty  *  As  a  barber's 
boy  plays  o'  th*  gittem.* 

109.  Cross- gartrect  Swainesi  *The  custom  of  enswathing  the  leg 
with  long  garters  was  peculiarly  indicative  of  the  Italian  peasantry,  and  is 
still  customary  with  them.  It  was  equally  common  in  Normandy  until 
the  middle  of  the  last  century.  It  was  an  Anglo-Saxon  fashion,  but  con- 
sidered boorish  in  our  author's  days '  (Fairholt) — but  not  now. 

P.  143,  124.  his  piping  as  farre  out  0/ tune ;  it  is  the  instrument  and  the 
playing  of  it  that  is  criticized  by  both  the  Nymphs  and  Midas;  nothing  is 
said  of  the  two  songs  as  poetry,  and  there  is  little  to  choose  between 
them,  though  Ward  says,  '  it  is  difficult  not  to  sympathize  with  Mydas  for 
preferring  Pan's  song,  poor  as  it  is,  to  Apollo's,  which  is  still  poorer' 
(Eng.  Dram,  Lit,  i,  299,  ed.  1899). 

P.  144,  177.  are  his  golde  tnynes  tumd  into  water;  the  transference 
of  Midas*  golden  gift  to  the  Pactolus  is  here  made  to  represent  the 
danger  to  which  the  Spanish  treasure-ships,  and  even  their  possessions 
in  America,  were  exposed  since  the  Armada's  defeat. 

183.  Sisq  miser  semper ^  &c. :  Ov.  Ibis,  117. 
P.  146,  Scene  ii.  A  reedy  place :  it  must  be  supposed  on  the  way 
between  the  wood  and  the  palace,  and  not  far  from  the  latter,  for 
Sophronia  and  her  ladies  to  visit  it  in  Scene  iv.  The  words  of  Driapon, 
1.  II  *  in  his  owne  Countrey  they  . . .  call  him  Tyrant,*  imply  not  the 
shepherds'  own  exemption  from  Midas'  sway,  for  they  dread  his  power 
and  complain  of  his  taxes,  1.  55,  but  merely  their  detachment  from 
affairs. 

5.  great  King .  • .  hands  are  longer :  Euph,  i.  221  L  34  '  kinges  haue 
long  armes,'  from  Ov.  Her,  xvii.  166 

'An  nescis  longas  regibus  esse  manus?' 

11.  in  his  owne  Countrey y  &c  :  suggestive  of  the  opening  of  bk.  iii. 
cap.  32  of  The  Diall  of  Princes — *  Mydas  the  auncient  kyng  oiPhrigia,  was 
in  his  gouemment  a  cruell  tyrant,  and  contented  not  himself  to  play  the 
tiraunt  in  his  own  proper  countrey,  but  also  mainteined  rouers  on  the  sea, 
and  theeues  in  the  lad  to  robbe  straugers  ...  a  freend  of  his  of  Thebes  sayd 
vnto  him  these  woords.  I  let  thee  to  weete  King  Mydas  that  all  those  of 
thy  oune  realm  doo  hate  thee,  and  al  the  other  realms  of  Asia  doo 
feare  thee.' 

29.  dissembling  0/ Hyena :  Dilke  and  Fairholt  are  wrong  in  pre- 
fixing '  the.'  It  is  as  if  its  cunning  and  its  plaintive  imitation  of  the 
human  voice  gave  it  a  semi-human  character  in  human  eyes.  Cf.  Psellus' 
language^  Euph,  iL  116 11.6-9  '  the  Beast  Hiena  . . .  they  accompt  Hyena 

M  m  2 


532  '  NOTES 

their  God . . .  take  seauen  hayres  of  Hyenas  lippes  ' ;  also  i.  250  L  8 '  Hwu^ 
when  she  speaketh  lyke  a  man,  deuiseth  most  mischieley'  where  see  note. 
34.  woodden  net . . .  the  cod . .  the  corks :  Fairholt  explains  ^W  of  the 
hag  at  the  bottom  of  the  net  which  held  a  stone  to  sink  it,  while  ther^jb 
were  to  keep  the  sides  of  the  net  on  the  surface.  IVoadden  net  means, 
of  course,  a  navy ;  hence  trees  and  woods  in  this  connexion. 

P.  146,  43.  piod\  all  editions  agree,  and  the  word  is  more  expressivt 
of  laborious  effort  than  *  plot.'    Cf.  M.  Botnb.  ii.  4.  5-6. 

61.  three  flocks :  three  locks  of  wool.  OF.  Jioc  de  laine^  *a  lock  or 
flock  of  wool.*  Cotg.  Lat.  floccus.  In  v.  2.  179  *  flockes  *  are  spoken  of 
as  used  for  stuffing  mattresses. 

Scene  III.  The  same :  the  closing  words  of  the  prececling  scene  in- 
dicate the  present  as  continuous  with  it. 

2.  call  a  dog  a  dogy  &c. :  i.  e.  you  have  to  learn  a  whole  new 
phraseology,  of  which,  as  Fairholt  points  out,  another  specimen  is  given 
by  Diana's  Nymphs  in  GalL  ii.  i.  38-58.  '  To  call  a  dog  a  dog '  was  a 
proverb  for  using  plain  speech.  Pappe  with  a  Hatchett^  1589,  on  its 
title-page  professes  to  be  *  written  by  one  that  dares  call  a  dog  a  dog.' 

P.  147, 6.  faireflewde :  with  large  hanging  chaps.      Well  Jkangd:  with 
long  drooping  ears.      Dilke  illustrates  the   Huntsman's    sense  of  the 
hounds*  music  by  the  passage  in  Mid,  N.  Dream,  iv.  i.  120 
*  So  flew'd,  so  sanded ;  and  their  heads  are  hungr 
With  ears  that  sweep  away  the  morning  dew  ; 

.  •  •  .  •  • 

Slow  in  pursuit,  but  matched  in  mouth  like  bells. 
Each  under  each.* 
12.  piddle:  pebble,  as  in  Gall.  i.  I.  13 ;   IVoman  in  Afooney  v.  i.  la 
16.  leashti  i.e.  beaten  with  the  leash  or  leathern  thong^  for  holding 
in  the  dogs,  which  might  also  be  used  for  their  chastisement.     But  lash 
is  originally  the  same  word,  in  the  sea-sense  of  binding  two  pieces  up 
together.    Skeat  compares  Germ,  lasche^  a  flap,  scarf  or  groove  to  join 
timber,  referring  it  to  an  original  Teut  base  lak  (Lat.  and  Gk.  lag^  to 
droop  (cf.  Lat  laxuSy  languere)^  from  which  is  formed  a  subst.  laksa  or 
laska^  a  flap.    The  lash  of  a  whip  is  the  flexible  or  drooping  part. 

20.  Calamance:  according  to  Halliwell  and  the  N.E.  D.  figurative 
application  to  language  oi  calamanco ,  'a  Flanders  woollen  stuff  of  glossy 
surface,  woven  with  a  satin  twill  and  chequered  in  the  warp  so  that  the 
checks  are  seen  on  one  side  only  *— the  glossy  surface  and  invisibility  of 
the  pattern  no  doubt  suggest  the  comparison.  The  characters  in  a 
nutmeg  are  the  intricate  veinings  visible  in  a  section  taken  through 
one. 

26.  the  single :  H  alii  well's  Diet,  of  Archcuc  Terms  s.  v.  Hunting, 
where  he  gives  an  immense  number  of  terms  applied  to  animals  that  were 
objects  of  sport  drawn  from  Blome's  Gentleman^ s  Recreations^  &c.,  enu- 


MIDAS  533 

merates  among  *  terms  of  the  tail '— •  The  wreath  of  a  boar,  the  single  of 
a  buck,  the  scut  of  a  hare  or  rabbit,  the  brush  of  a  fox/  &c. 

27.  imbosi :  so  of  the  stag  in  Scott's  Lady  of  the  Lake,  i.  7  '  £mboss*d 
with  foam,  and  dark  with  soil/ 

tooke  soyle :  so  in  Browne's  BritannicCs  Pastorals^  p.  84,  a  hind  is 
represented  as  '  taking  soyle  within  a  flood '  (Halliwell).  But  the  word 
is  the  same  as  soil  =  ground,  or  defilement ;  the  idea  being  that  muddy 
water  afforded  most  conceahnent  (Skeat). 

32.  This  is  worse  than  fustian  :  printed  as  part  of  the  Huntsman's 
speech  in  the  old  eds.  and  by  Dilke,  though  Fairholt  allots  it,  separately, 
to  Minutius.  In  the  Huntsman's  mouth  it  refers  to  the  ordinary  speech 
Petulus  has  just  substituted  for  the  technical.    Cf.  *  Calamance,'  1. 20  note. 

36.  champing :  quasi  champaign, 
P.  148,  41.  facundi  calices^  &c. :  Hon  Ep.  i.  5.  19. 

43.  dizardum  :  a  dizard  was  a  dancing  fool.  The  opening  line 
of  the  Anti-Martinist  lampoon  A  Whip  for  an  Ape  is  *A  Dizard  late 
skipt  out  vpon  our  Stage.' 

46.  scull  of  Phesants  :  i.  e.  school,  or  shoal ;  either  word  being  applic- 
able, of  course,  only  to  fish, 

49.  swad :  down,  bumpkin.  Whitney  quotes  *  Let  country  swains 
and  silly  swads  be  still'  (Greene,  Madrigal),  Again  pp.  420 1. 92, 426 1. 108. 

54.  remember  all  this /  :  i.e.  I'll  make  you  pay  for  it. 

68.  shrowdi  a  recognized  variant  oi  shrewd, 

72.  flyblow :  cf.  N.  E.  D.  s.  v. 

74.  shaue  the  Barbars  house  \  see  note  on  an  inueniorie  of  all ^  &c., 
below,  V.  2.  4. 

P.  149;  81.  a  choakpeare :  Fairholt  explains  as  '  a  sort  of  gag  shaped  like 
a  pear,  which  opened  from  the  centre  by  a  spring  and  forced  the  mouth  to 
its  utmost  width.  It  was  of  Italian  invention,  used  for  purposes  of  punish- 
ment.' Minutius  dedicates  every  particle  of  himself  to  the  opening,  i.e. 
robbing,  of  Motto's  purse. 

12.  suffers  the  enemies  to  bid  vs  good  morrowe  at  our  owne 
doores :  alluding,  not  as  Dilke  suggests,  to  Essex's  expedition  to  Cadiz  in 
1596,  which  is  much  too  late,  but  to  that  under  Drake  and  Norreys  in 
1589  to  establish  Don  Antonio  on  the  throne  of  Portugal.  They  sailed 
from  Plymouth  Apr.  18,  1589;  landed  at  Corunna,  and  obtained  some 
advantages  over  the  Spaniards.  They  even  got  possession  of  the  suburbs 
of  Lisbon  ;  but  were  compelled  to  re-embark.  On  their  return  they  took 
and  burned  Vigo,  and  ravaged  the  country  round.  They  reached 
Plymouth    again    by  the    middle    of  July    (Motley's    Unit,   Neth,  ii. 

554-6). 

18.  This  will  make  Pisidia  wanton,  &c. :  perhaps  recollecting  the 
Greek  discontent  at  Alexander's  assumption  of  Eastern  dress  and  manners, 
as  related  in  Plutarch's  Life^  c.  45. 


534  NOTES 

20.  coutcht:  lodged,  comprised.  Udall's  Erasvt.  Par.  Pxt£  u 
*  Couched  together  in  this  one  weorke'  (N.E.  D.). 

28.  Bella  gerant  cUij,  &c. :  adapted  from  Helen's  Epistle  to  Paris 
(Ov.  Her.  xvii.  254)  *  Bella  gerant  fortes :  tu,  Pari,  semper  ama.'  Again, 
Endim,  iii.  3.  32. 

P.  160,  31.  Villus  argeniufn,  &c:  Hor.  Efi.  i.  I.  53,  quoted  in  Lilly 
and  Colet's  Latin  Grammar,  ed.  1577,  sig.  Ij  recto. 

47.  a  ntelhridal :  properly  an  electuary,  used  in  the  general  sense  of 
remedy  in  Sapho  and  Phao,  iii.  3.  13. 

48.  Uno  nofnq  modo^  &c. :  still  unfound. 

P.  152,  28.  my  doom  was  his  :  my  judgement  was  passed  upon  him. 

3.  table-men',  the  wooden  discs  used  in  the  game  'tables,*  or 
back-gammon,  which  still  employs  just  thirty.  Fairholt  says  the  game 
was  kept  in  barbers'  shops. 

4.  an  inuentorit  of  all , ,  ,io  redeeme  the  beard  i  the  course  of  the 
action  between  the  Pages  and  the  barber  is  not  absolutely  clear  from  the 
text,  but  may  be  summarized  as  follows.  During  the  song  at  the  end  of  iii. 
2  Motto  must  be  supposed  to  effect  the  cure  of  Petulus*  toothache,  on  their 
promise  to  redeem  the  beard  which  they  have  pawned.  When  next  we  meet 
them  (iv.  3  end)  they  plot  to  *  shaue  the  Barbars  house,'  i.  e.  they  are 
going  to  pretend  that  they  have  only  induced  the  pawnbroker  to  release 
the  beard  on  a  promise  that  he  shall  receive  a  lien  on  Motto's  goods,  oat 
of  which  the  Pages  mean  to  make  their  own  profit.  At  their  visit  to 
Motions  house,  which  is  not  represented.  Motto,  having^  vainly  tried  to 
bully  them,  has  finally  recovered  the  beard  by  giving  them  a  sham  docu- 
ment in  which  he  pokes  fun  at  them.  The  nature  of  this  document  has 
become  apparent  to  them  before  their  entry  in  this  scene,  and  the  reading 
of  it  before  the  audience  must  be  excused  by  their  wish  to  taste  Motto's 
humour  more  fully. 

p.  163,  8.  pike  deuant :  the  *  bodkin  *  of  iii.  3.  39. 
10.  poynado :  poniard,  an  Italian  termination  being  tacked  on  to 
a  French  word.  Fr.  poignard,  *a  poinadoe  or  poniard,'  Cotgravc. 
Dilke  excuses  the  poverty  of  Petulus'  wit  by  taking  his  '  conceald  beard ' 
of  the  golden  beard :  but  the  latter  is  now  in  Motto*s  hands  ;  and  Licio's 
next  speech  (end)  shows  him  to  mean  his  own  ungrown  beard. 

21.  What  els  f :  the  expression  had  not  yet  acquired  its  modem  sense 
of  dissent. 

83.  moueables :  probably  *  of  easy  virtue.'  So  Katharine  to  Petruchio 
(ii.  I.  198)  in  sense  of 'any  man's  tool.* 

88.  Falix  quemfaciuni^  &c. :  the  line  is  given  on  fol.  3  of  Prtnurbes 
and  Adagies^  gathered  out  of  the  Chi  Hades  of  Erasmus  .  .  .by  Rycharde 
Tavener . . .  An.  M.D.LII.  B.L.  8%  but  I  know  of  no  classical  origin  for 
it,  however  familiar.    It  is  translated  by  Eubulus  in  Euph.  i.  189  I.  14. 

40.  one  of  the  Cole-house,  &c. :   possibly  an  allusion  to  Grim  the 


MIDAS  535 

Collier,  who  is  victimized  by  the  barbering  of  the  Court-pages  in  Richard 
Edwardes*  Damon  and  Pithias,  lie.  1 567.     See  vol.  ii.  p.  238, 

P.  164,  48.  cum  recumbentibus :  this  ought  to  mean  '  with  interest.'  In 
the  following  from  John  Hey  wood's  Prouerbs^  ed.  Sharman,  p.  146,  it 
seems  to  be  used  as  a  sort  of  dog- Latin  for  *  recompense ' — 

'  Had  you  some  husband,  and  snapt  at  him  thus, 
I  wis  he  would  give  you  a  recumbentibus.' 
P.  166,  78.  Mine  armes  are  all  armarie^  g^l^s,  &c. :  i.  e.  discoloured 
with  fighting,  or  beating. 

79.  pur,  posty  pare,  Sec. :  terms  in  a  game  of  cards  called  *  Post 
and  Pair,'  in  which  pur  seems  to  mean  the  knave :  cf.  Whitney  s.v. 
pur.  Licio,  humorously,  rather  than  blunderingly  as  Dilke  says,  ekes 
out  his  scanty  stock  of  heraldic  terms  with  others  more  familiar.  '  Post 
and  pair  (  =  pack) '  or  *  post*  is  mentioned  by  Sir  John  Harington— 
*  The  second  game  was  pos/,  until  with  posting 
They  paid  so  fast,  'twas  time  to  leave  their  hosting.' 

(Fairholt).    -Pa/r=pack. 
96.  tongue  tawde :  '  to  taw  is  still  used  in  Somersetshire  in  the  sense 
of  to  tie,  or  to  fasten '  (Fairholt) :  but  perhaps  '  subdued  to  silence,'  from 
taw  or  tew,  to  dress  (leather). 

98.  ympt :  *  to  imp '  is  to  graft,  or  to  repair  by  splicing  or  addition : 
here  *  reinforced.' 

raser:  pun  on  rase,  to  destroy,  of  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  mischief; 
or  else  for  *  racer.' 

99.  a  mort :  i.  e.  amort,  dull,  dejected,  as  in  Taming,  iv.  3.  36. 

101.  marie  gup :  i.  e.  *  by  Mary,  gee  up  !  or  get  up  ! '  a  stable  expres- 
sion, says  Fairholt.    Again  M,  Bombie,  i.  3.  14. 

is  melancholy  . .  ,for  a  barbars  mouth  t :  the  affectation  of  melan- 
choly is  illustrated  by  King  John,  iv.  I.  14— 

*when  I  was  in  France, 
Young  gentlemen  would  be  as  sad  as  night 
Only  for  wantonness.' 
and  by  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  iii.  3  *  Your  true  melancholy 
breeds  your  perfect  fine  wit,  sir.'    As  a  recognized  mental  state,  it  occurs 
as  early  as  the  Utopia,  1516.    Sidney's  character  exhibits  it    Possibly 
Ly]y*s  hero,  Euphues,  set  the  fashion. 

104.  in  his  mublefubles :  depressed  in  spirits.  Nares  quotes  Gayton's 
Festiv.  Notes,  p.  46  *  Sol  in  his  mubblefubbles,  that  is  long  clouded.' 

107.  the  rewme:  see  iii.  2.  58  (note). 

108.  mushrumpes:  a  corruption.    The  word  is  from  OF.  mouscheron 
or  mousseron,  *  a  mushrome,'  Cotg. 

109.  a  pose :  again  for  a  cold  or  running  at  the  nose  in  M.  Bomb.  iv. 
2.  218  *  A  little  rume  or  pose.' 

a  V  iuet  patch :   i.  e.  a  beauty-patch,  or  black  spot  to  set  off  the 
complexion. 


536  NOTES 

P.  156, 127.  the  wennes :  apparently  a  distinct  word  from  weam  d 
Euph,  ii.  2i61.  14. 

148.  yoti  haue  made  a  /aire  hand:  i.  e.  you  have  got  into  a  nice 
mess,  metaphor  from  one  taking  fresh  cards  from  the  pac^  on  the  chance 
of  bettering  his  hand.  Beaum.  and  Flet's  King-  and  JVo  King,  v.  1 
Lygones,  finding  Spaconia,  whom  he  has  abused  for  light  behaviour,  is  to 
be  Tigranes'  queen,  says,  '  Then  have  1  made  a  £Eur  hand :  I  cali'd  ber 
whore.* 

P.  157,  159.  but  durante  placitox  only  during  pleasure. 
163.  couin  :  old  law-term  for  fraudulent  agreement. 

165.  ball    of  soap. 

166.  tria  sequuntur  triaes :  the  phrase  is  quoted  again  Paffie,  p.  406 
1.  18.    It  looks  like  some  formula  in  alchemy  or  magic 

170.  beards,  to  stuffe  . . .  cushions :  see  iii.  2.  128. 

173.  and  a  nayle :  a  nail  is  a  unit  of  English  cloth-measuxe — 2}  in.: 
to  be  understood  here  as  added  to  the  half-yard  of  breadth. 

175.  lynes  that  she  dryes  her  cloathes  on :  the  use  of  hair  for  clothes- 
lines is  illustrated  by  Tempest,  iv.  i.  237 '  Mistress  line,  is  not  this  my 
jerkin  ?  . . .  now,  jerkin,  you  are  like  to  lose  your  hair  and  prove  a  bald 
jerkin.* 

P.  158,  12.  at  barly-breake  with  Daphne :  a  game,  resembling  our 
Warner  or  Prisoners'  Base,  in  which  two  players,  occupying  a  marked 
space  called  *  Hell  *  in  the  centre  of  the  ground,  tried  to  catch  the  others 
as  they  ran  through  it  from  the  two  opposite  ends,  those  caught  being 
obliged  to  replace  or  reinforce  them  in  the  centre.  The  same  application 
of  it  occurs  in  Middleton's  fine  play  The  Changelings  v.  3  of  De  Flores 
and  Beatrice, 

'  Yes,  and  the  while  I  coupled  with  your  mate 
At  barley-break;   now  we  are  left  in  hell.' 

18.  assaying  on  some  Shepheardes  coate,  &c. :  Dilke  notes  the  allu- 
sion to  Apollo's  having  served  Admetus  in  that  capacity,  and  that  the 
serpents  skinne  refers  to  his  being  god  of  medicine,  or  to  the  serpent 
Python  which  Apollo  slew  and  the  skin  of  which  formed  a  covering  for 
the  tripod  on  which  his  priestess  sat 

18.  quench  fire  with  a  sword \  cf.  Sapho  and  Phao,  ii.  4.  no  *fire 
to  be  quenched  with  dust,  not  with  swordes'— see  note.  Here  of  Alva*s 
attempt  to  put  down  the  indignant  discontent  of  the  Netherlanders  by 
ruthless  cruelty  and  military  force. 

23.  in  etemitie :  represented  by  the  offering  of  *  tapers,'  to  be  kept 
always  burning  before  the  shrine. 
P.  159,  61.  my  affection  .  .  .  vnncUuralli  see  note  on  ii.  i.  88. 
P.  160,  72.  peeuishnes :  folly,  as  Sapho,  i.  i.  42,  4.  33,  and  very  often, 
though  the  following  words  in  this  passage  seem  to  show  that  it  indicates 
a  lighter  degree  of  folly. 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  537 

P.  161,  135.  16  Paans :  Ov.  Art.  Am.  ii.  i. 

P.  162.  139.  A  Daphnean  Coronet*,  one  of  laurel. 

144.  Delian  King',  as  bom  in  Delos.     Hyg.  Fab.  140. 


MOTHER   BOMBIE. 

P.  172.  Dramatis  Personae:  I  have  corrected  Fairholt's  descrip- 
tions of  Prisius  (cf.  note  on  ii.  5.  63)  and  Sperantus  (cf.  i.  3.  183-^),  and 
abolished  his  distinction  between  the  '  men,*  Dromio  and  Riscio,  and  the 
'  boys/  Halfpenny  and  Lucio,  for  which  there  seems  no  sufficient  reason. 
(See  his  note  on  the  Song  in  iii.  4.)  Granted  that  Dromio  and  Riscio  are 
somewhat  older,  yet  all  four  are  of  a  piece,  and  their  confidential  relation 
with  their  respective  masters  is  much  the  same  :  the  Hackneyman  speaks 
of  Dromio  as  *  Memphios  boye,'  v.  3.  360,  and  Stellio  speaks  of  Riscio 
as  *  the  boy,*  ii.  2.  7.  Rixula,  too,  is  dearly  of  Prisius*  household  (cf.  iii. 
4.  1-4). 

SCEH^— Rochester',  see  iii.  4. 90,  iv.  1. 19,  iv.  3. 188.    For  his  one  play 
of  contemporary  life  Lyly  chooses  a  scene  in  his  own  county. 
P.  173,  8.  tread  out :  beget,  a  term  used  of  the  generation  of  birds. 

9.  dite  hot  on :  border  close  on. 

13.  they  saie^  if  rauens .  . .  black',  popular  superstition,  not  traceable 
in  Pliny,  book  x. 

17.  Carue  him  . .  .  capon  :  cock-chickens  were  castrated  to  improve 
the  flesh.  Dromio  suggests  that  the  same  process  applied  to  Accius  will 
prevent  his  breeding  fools. 

P.  174,  29-31.  Aethiopian  . . .  /aire  picture^  &c. :  Mr.  P.  A.  Daniel 
would  read  babie  for  ladie.  In  Heliodorus'  Aethiopica,  iv.  8,  Persina, 
queen  of  Ethiopia,  tells  her  white  daughter,  Chariclea,  that  when  she  was 
begotten  a  picture  of  Perseus  leading  away  the  naked  Andromeda  hung  in 
her  view.  The  preface  to  Underdowne's  translation,  1587,  4°,  alludes 
to  an  earlier  and  incorrect  edition.    Cf.  Camp,  i.  i.  71  note. 

37.  beg  him  for  a  foole  :  cf.  iv.  2.  108  *  begd  for  a  concealde  foole.' 
*  Natural  fools  having  property  were  wards  in  Chancery,  and  it  was 
customary  with  persons  who  had  sufficient  interest  to  beg  the  guardianship 
of  them  in  the  time  of  our  author,  to  profit  by  their  lodging  with  them. 
Douce  has  given  a  curious  anecdote '*  how  the  Lord  North  beg^'d  old 
liladwell  for  a  foole,**  and  what  came  of  it'  (Fairholt). 

39.  haue  in :  come  in  with. 

40.  fadge :  suit,  succeed. 

eate  till  thou  sweatCy  &c. :  a  comparison  with  Euph.  i.  351  11.  1-2, 
to  which  Mr.  P.  A.  Daniel  draws  my  attention,  suggests  that  the  reading 
should  be  '  till  thou '  for  '  thou  shalt  * :  '  these  Abbaie  lubbers  .  . .  which 
laboured  till  they  were  colde,  eat  til  they  sweate,  and  lay  in  bed  till  their 
boanes  aked.' 


538  NOTES 

P.  175,  64.   mewed  vfi :  metaphor  firom  falconry,  tnevfs  being  places 
where  hawks  were  kept  when  sick  or  moulting. 

65.  roisting :  earlier  form  of  roystering :  cf.  Udairs  Roister  DirisUr, 
Prol.  *  the  roy sting  sort*    Also  Tro,  and  Cress,  ii.  2.  208- 

74.  keefe  my  house  from  smoake :  with  possible  allusion  to  the  proverb 
cited  Wife  of  Bath's  Prol,  11.  278-80  about  smoke,  rain  dripping,  and 
a  scold.  Cf.  Proverbs  xxvii.  15,  and  Skeat's  Chaucer^  vol.  iii.  p.  447.  Or 
smoake  may  be  colloquial,  like  '  dust/  for  disturbance.  Memphio  again 
alludes  to  his  wife*s  shrewish  temper,  v.  3.  114. 

88.  ducats :  the  average  value  of  the  gold  ducat  was  rather  over  nine 
shillings. 

98.  Expellas  furca  Itcet,  &c. :  Hot,  Ep,  i,  10.  24  *  Naturam  expellas 
furca,  tamen  usque  recurret.* 

P.  176,  8.  How  likest  thou  this  headt:  probably  referring  to  what  he 
has  just  said,  in  the  sense  of '  Have  I  good  wits  ?  was  this  cunningly 
done?*  but  the  context  makes  it  possible  that  he  produces  at  this  point 
a  miniature  of  his  daughter. 

15.  Quod  natura^  &c:  still  unfound. 
P.  177,  47.  come  not  cd>out you\  i.e.  *  do  not  overreach  you,*  cd.  1 814. 

6.  wring  \  ed.  181 4  quotes  Hamlet^  iii.  2.  240  Met  the  gall'd  jade 
wince,  our  withers  are  unwrung.'  Cf.  Milton,  Def  of  Hurnble  Remonsir. 
*  Wee  know  where  the  shoo  wrings  you.* 

12.  another  gate:  another  kind  of;  conn,  with  *gait,'  manner  of 
going.  Ed.  1 8 14  says  *  Still  used  in  the  North  of  England.*  Cf.  Twelfth 
Nighty  V.  198  *  othergates,'  in  different  fashion. 

14.  better  bread  than  is  made  of  wheats  &c :  this  proverb  for  fas- 
tidiousness, which  Ray,  p.  3  (1678),  gives  as  of  Italian  origin,  occurs  again 
in  the  Epistle  Dedicatorie  to  the  First  Part  of  Euphues  (vol.  i.  181  1.  18). 
P.  178,  25.  in  place  where \  *in  a  more  fitting  place'  (Fairholt),  Le. 
a  more  private. 

26.  cog\  used  here  in  sense  of  Mie,'  and  two  lines  further  on  in 
special  sense  of  cheating  at  dice,  which  would  require  a  steady  hand 
(ed.  18 14). 

33.  princockes :  pert  youth. 

41.  winke  not:  i.e.  if  she  can  see  straight. 

^l,for  catching  cold:  i.e.  to  prevent  it,  as  often,  e.g.  Woman ,  i. 
1.  1 78  *  no  noyse  for  waking  her.' 

P.  179,  60.  prick  on  a  clout:  sew  doth;  Campaspey  v.  4.  136  'prick- 
ing in  cloutes.' 

74.  my  conceit  may  stumble  on  his  staiednes :  my  imagination  may 
chance  to  become  as  sober  as  his  own. 

81.  The  care  is  taken  :  i.  e.  I  have  provided  against  that. 

85.  cough  mee  a  foole  for  his  labour :  '  his  coughing  shall  only  make 
me  think  him  the  more  fool.* 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  539 

87.  broad'Sttich :  a  kind  only  imagined  to  suit  the  occasion. 
P.  180,  90.  pieuish :  foolish  (ed.  18 14).     In  ii.  3.  71  Candius,  com- 
menting on   Silena*s    lack   of  wits,   says  that  people  that   know  not 
how  to  discourse  *  by  some  newe  coyned  by-word  bewraie  theyr  peeuish- 
nesse.'    But  see  note  above,  on  p.  160  1.  72. 

104.  pap  with  a  hatchet :  proverbial  expression  for  rough  treatment 
of  children.  See  note  on  the  title  of  Lyly's  pamphlet  Pappe  with 
an  Hatchet^  p.  573.  There  is  shrewd  sense  in  Livia's  remarks 
here,  with  which  we  may  suspect  the  author  to  be  more  than  half  in 
sympathy. 

1 08.  cammocke :  a  crooked  staff  or  crook,  a  word  of  Gaulish  origin, 
ME.  kamboky  LL.  cambuca.  Again  in  Endimion^  iii.  i.  36,  *  timely 
crookes  that  tree  that  wil  be  a  camock,'  and  Euph.  ii.  169  1.  23,  ^  serching 
for  a  wande,  I  gather  a  camocke.' 

120.  cowslops  :  this  variant  better  represents  the  original  meaning  of 
this  plant-name,  cow-slobber,  cow-dung. 

for  our  names :  the  yellow  cowslip  representing  the  stem  //V-,  the 
white  lilies  the  stem  cand-. 

121.  Sparrowes  .  . .  desires',  the  bird's  voracity  and  fecundity  are 
familiar.  In  Campaspe^  ii.  2.  60,  Hephae'stion  reproaches  Alexander, 
infatuated  with  Campaspe,  with  changing  his  eagle  for  a  sparrow. 

123.  the  cockle  6r*  the  Tortuse,  because  of  Venus :  so  Sapho  in  her 
appeal  to  Venus,  iii.  3. 88-90,  speaks  of  *  thy  Tortoys  . . .  thy  Cockleshels.' 
See  note  on  that  passage. 

P.  181,  125.  Abeston :  asbestos.  Pliny,  NcU,  Hist,  xxxvii.  54,  gives  no 
explanation  of  the  n2une;  but  Solinus,  c.  7,  says  '"Acr/SeaTor,  cui  nomen 
est  quod  accensus  semel  extingui  nequit.' 

128.  lerripoope :  properly  the  degree  of  knowledge  that  would  qualify 
one  to  wear  a  liripoop  (liripipium)  or  scarf  as  doctor  (Nares).  Cf.  Sapho 
and  Phao^  i.  3.  6  '  Thou  maist  be  skilled  in  thy  Logick  but  not  in  thy 
Lerypoop,*  where  see  note :  and  Pappe ^  p.  407 1.  ^lySudeley^  vol.  i.  483  L  7. 

136-8.  Principio  .  .  .  duret  amor',  Ovid,  Art,AmcU,  i. 35-38.  Candius 
omits  after  the  first  line  the  pentameter,  *  Qui  nova  nunc pripnum  miles  in 
artna  vents* 

140.  pace :  a  corruption  of  parse,  from  the  notion  of  going  over  step 
by  step. 

148.  Non  caret  effectu,  &c. :  Ov.  Amor.  ii.  3.  16. 
P.  182,  172.  col  lop:  properly  a  slice  of  meat;  original  word  probably 
cloPy  Du.  klop,  a  knock,  stroke  (Skeat),  Ed.  18 14  compares  i  Henry  VI ^ 
V.  4.  18  *thou  art  a  collop  of  my  flesh.' 

181.  coope  .  .  .  caponx  alluding  to  the  fatting  of  fowls  by  con- 
finement. 

186.  masters  . . .  gaffers :  *  mcuter  being  the  title  applied  to  gentle- 
men—^r?^;-  that  given  to  plain  old  countrymen'  (Fairholt). 


540  NOTES 

rake  . .  ,forke\  as  in  Euphues,  ii  l6  U.  1-2,  Pappe^  p.  412  L  4a 

187.  purchase  our  children  armes :  i.  e.  heraldic  arms,  make  ocr 
children  gentlefolk  (ed.  1 8 14). 

193.  hue  vpon  sops :  i.  e.  love  in  its  most  luxurious  form,  sops  beio; 
cakes  dipped  in  wine  (Fairholt). 

P.  183,  3.  Obuiam  dare  Dromio :  ohvium  dare  se  occurs  Uvy,  L 16,  ba 
Lyly  meant  obviam  ire  ^rfieri^  or  intended  a  mistake. 

12.  Lupus  in  fabula :  a  proverb  for  one  who  comes  up  as  «e  an 
speaking  of  him  (Anglic^  *talk  of  the  devil,  &c.').  It  occurs  Tcrccce, 
Adelphi'w,  i.  21. 

18.  conuey  a  contract :  manage  one  with  secrecy.  So  below  '  con- 
uey  knauerie,*  and  Macbeth^  iv.  3.  71  *  you  may  convey  your  pleasures.' 
i.  e.  indulge  them  secretly. 

P.  184,  30.  a  close  marriage :  i.  e.  clandestine,  accompanied  by  some 
neglect  of  due  legal  forms. 

34.  wil  make  the  foole  bestride  our  mistres  hetcks^  &c. :  we  wiD 
patch  up  some  sort  of  a  match  between  Accius  ('  the  foole ')  and  Silena 
(*our  mistres*)— *  backs  *  is  a  vulgarism— and  then  take  full  reward  from 
our  masters. 

35.  the  bagge  with  the  dudgin  ha/te  .  .  .  tanionie  pouch :  'An 
allusion  to  the  constant  custom,  from  the  14th  to  the  17th  cent.,  of  carry- 
ing the  purse  at  the  girdle,  and  the  dagger  thrust  between  the  straps 
or  cords  by  which  it  hung'  (Fairholt).  A  dudgeon  haft  is  a  dagger- 
handle  graven  with  cross  lines  ;  a  dudgeon-dagger  is  one  with  such 
a  handle,  and  especially  one  borne  by  a  civilian,  not  a  military  weapon. 
Fairholt  explains  *  tantonie  pouch '  as  one  filled  with  coins  or  crosses, 
St.  Anthony  being  known  by  his  cross ;  and  compares  the  saying  '  He 
follows  him  like  a  tcmtonie  pig,'  the  saint  being  always  pictured  with  one 
of  these  animals. 

39.  snaphance :  a  firelock,  a  sense  derived  from  Old  Dutch  snap- 
haen,  a  robber  that  snaps  upon  one  on  the  highway,  from  kaoHy  a  cock, 
or  cock  of  a  gun  (Skeat). 

40.  purse  with  a  ring  .  .  .  knaues  hande  from  it :  Fairholt  says 
the  ring-purse  was  drawn  together  by  a  silken  or  leathern  thong,  and 
afforded  greater  facilities  to  the  hand  of  the  dishonest ;  while  '  course 
a  knaues  hand  from  it  *  refers  to  the  moral  sentence  engraved  round  the 
metal  frame  or  rmg— course ^^  curse,'  not  *  chase.' 

48.  coystrels :  Malone*s  explanation  of  *  coystrel '  as  first  a  wine- 
vessel,  and  then  a  mean  drunken  fellow,  on  which  Fairholt  enlarges, 
seems  contradicted  by  Tw.  Nighty  i.  3.  43  *  he's  a  coward  and  a  coystril 
that  will  not  drink  to  my  niece  till  his  brains  turn,*  &c.,  and  receives 
no  support  from  the  lexicographers,  Murray,  Whitney,  Skeat,  Schmidt. 
It  means  properly  one  that  carries  a  coustille  (F.)  or  poniard  in  attendance, 
and  then  a  paltry  fellow. 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  541 

52.  nailed vp for  slips :  *  counterfeit  pieces  of  money,  being  brasse,  and 
covered  over  with  silver,  which  the  common  people  call  slips*  (Robert 
Greene's  Thieves  Falling  Out,  &c.,  Harl.  Misc.  viii.  p.  399,  quoted  by 
Nares).  The  following  from  Gascoigne's  Hundreth  sundrie  Flowres 
(1573)  seems  to  indicate  a  transition  in  the  application  of  the  term  from 
a  genuine  to  a  counterfeit  coin, — '  a  piece  of  mony  which  then  was  fallen  to 
three  halfpence  :  and  I  remember  they  called  the  Slippes  *.  Silver  half- 
pennies were  coined  by  Henry  viii,  Ed.  vi,  and  Elizabeth  (1582). 

54.  slipslringi  Halfpenny's  rejoinder  is  opposed  to  Fairholt's  ex- 
planation, '  one  who  has  escaped  the  gallows.'  It  is  rather  '  truant.'  Also 
in  Beau,  and  Flet.  King  and  No  King,  ii.  2.  75. 

56.  now  is  my  hand  on  my  halfepenie :  proverb  for  preoccupation 
of  mind.  In  Gascoigne's  Hundreth  sundrie  Flowres,  the  hero  delaying 
to  answer,  a  lady  asks  him,  *  how  now,  sir,  is  your  hSd  on  your  halfpeny  ? ' : 
in  Greene's  Menaphon  (p.  49  Arber)  of  an  inattentive  auditor  'twere 
nccessarie  he  tolde  vs  how  his  heart  came  thus  on  his  halfepenie' :  and  in 
Lodge's  Rosalynde,  p.  22,  *  is  your  heart  on  your  halfepeny  ? '  is  a  question 
to  an  absent-minded  person.     Here  it  almost  =  I  have  an  idea. 

59.  hammers :  i.  e.  I  am  hammering  out  something  (Fairholt).  See 
Glossary. 

P.  186,  82.  Senties  qui  vir  simi  Ter.  Eun,  i.  I.  21  ^  sentiet  qui  vir 
siem ' ;  but  Lyly  is  recalling  his  school-book  A  Shorte  Introduction  of 
Grammar,  on  sig.  C  5  recto  of  which  it  occurs  as  he  quotes  it. 

98.  Cum  mala  .  .  .  moras :  Ov.  Rem,  Am,  92. 

99.  the  least  asse  is  the  more  asse :  at  the  word  long'OS  in  the  pre- 
ceding quotation  he  points  to  the  taller  of  his  interlocutors ;  at  mor-as 
to  the  shorter. 

P.  186,  109.  bodkin;  'sheath'  1.  108  suggests  the  customary  associa- 
tion of  sword  and  dagger  on  one  belt;  *  case '= pair,  as  Maydes  Met,  ii. 
2.  19.  But  *  bodkin'  1.  iii=needle.  I  find  nothing  about  Tonbridge 
knives  or  needles.  The  latter  were  usually  Spanish  (GalL  iii.  3.  12) :  no 
important  English  manufacture  before  1650. 

111.  eares  .  .  ,  boare  them;  from  the  allusion  iv.  2.  195-6  it  would 
seem  that  boring  the  ears  was,  like  cropping  them,  one  of  the  punish- 
ments attending  the  pillory. 

118.  Gods  good  (sometimes  *gos-good')  occurs  again  Euph,  and  his 
Ettgl,  ii.  17  1.  10  'cannot  make  two  meales,  vnlesse  Galen  be  his  Gods 
good,'  i.  e.  make  them  light  and  wholesome,  as  yeast  does  bread. 

122.  Foure  makes  a  messe :  for  '  mess '  as  a  set  pf  four  cf.  Lov^s 
Lab,  Lost,  iv.  3.  207  *  You  three  fools  lack'd  me  fool  to  make  up  the 
mess.' 

127.  brinchyou  mas  Sperantusi  *  do  you  pledge  Master  Sperantus.' 
Brinch  or  brince  =  pledge.  This  rare  and  obsolete  verb  is  a  contraction 
of  the  noun  brendice  (from  Ital.  brindisi),  a  drinking  or  health  to  one. 


542  NOTES 

The  N.E.D.  quotes  Abp.  Parker,  Psalter,  Ixxv.  31 1  '  The  good  at  brynke 
cleare  doth  drynke,  God  brincke  them  gently  so  *  (1556). 

132.  beyond  Ela  .  .  .  Gam  vt\  *  Ut '  and  *  La  *  were  respectively  the 
lowest  and  highest  in  the  Hexachord  or  scale  of  six  notes,  whose  names 
were  derived  from  the  initial  syllables  in  the  lines  of  a  Latin  hymn  to 
St.  John.  Calculated  at  first  to  commence  on  C,  the  scale  was  later 
transferred  to  G  (Gamma,  Gam),  which  gives  £  for  the  top  note  (Dia 
of  Music,  art  Sohnisation),  Cf.  Euph,  ii.  3  1.  25,  and  the  Prologue  to  MUol 
P.  187,  186.  shake  three  trees :  probably  alluding  to  the  three  beams 
of  a  gallows.     Cf. '  Tria  sequuntur  tria,'  Pappe,  p.  406  1.  1 8. 

139.  let  vs  close  to  the  bush :  i.  e.  let  us  quietly  to  the  ivy-bush,  slip 
into  the  tavern.     But  *  close '  may =*  hard  by.* 

140.  Inter  pocula  philosophandum  :  '  An  philosophandum  sit  inter 
pocula '  forms  the  subject  of  Plut.  Quaest,  Conviv,  i.  i  • 

144.  print  deeper  in  thy  hand :  alluding  to  the  old  punishment  for 
felony  by  branding  the  hand  (Fairholt). 

152.  Skinckers :  *  to  skink '  is  to  draw  or  serve  wine.  Shaksp.  has 
*  under-skinker  *  in  i  Henry  IV,  ii.  4.  26  (Skeat). 

155.  Nowle :  (noule,  nole)  head,  as  in  Faerie  Queene,  VII .  vii.  39. 
P.  188,  4.  loitersacke :    cf.  *  haltersack '  in  Beau,  and  Flet.  King  and 
No  King,  ii.  2.     The  suffix  may  imply  inertness,  laziness,  or  '  meant  for 
hanging.* 

6.  casting  beyond  the  Moone  :  cf.  Euphues  (vol.  i.  222  1.  31). 

15.  loui'ngwormei  Fairholt  quotes  Campaspe,  v.  4.  127  *  Two  louing 
wormes,  Hephestion.'  Cf.  Euph,  ii.  182  I.  3  *•  these  louing  wormes,*  and 
Tempest,  iii.  I.  31  *  Poor  worm  !  thou  art  infected.* 

16.  This  green  nosegaiei  i.  e.  the  ivy-bush. 

17.  smelt  to :  Euphues,  ii.  160  1.  9  *  to  smell  to  a  perfect  Uiolet* 

18.  Argentum  potabile  \  aurum  potubile,  or  gold  held  in  a  state  <rf 
minute  subdivision  in  some  volatile  oil,  being  one  of  the  favourite  elixirs 
of  the  alchemists,  mentioned  in  Ripley's  Compound  of  Alchymy,  trans. 
1 591.  Silver  pennies  were  coined  by  all  the  Tudors  and  Stuarts.  Cf 
Midas,  ii.  2.  37  *  golde  boyld  *  (note). 

21.  be  as  bee  may  is  no  banning',  i.e.  not  bad  language;  evidently 
a  proverb  with  folk  who  think  affairs  are  going  well  and  call  for  no  extra- 
ordinary effort.  Ed.  1814  understands  it,  too  literally,  as  *  I  do  not  curse 
my  son  when  I  discard  him.' 

24.  pigsnie  :  for  *  pig's  eye,*  a  common  term  of  endearment. 

26.  sance :  sans. 

28.  dodkin  :  a  Dutch  coin  worth  one-eighth  of  a  stiver  (Fairhoh). 
Halliwell  quotes  Weelkes'  Ayres,  Lon.  1608  *  The  stiching  cost  me  but 
a  dodkin.' 

michingx  skulking,  loitering.  Cf.  micher^  i.  3.  191,  and  Eupk,  ii.  59 
L  18  *  made  the  Gods  to  trewant  from  Heauen,  and  mych  heere  on  earth*' 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  543 

30.  banquetting :  the  context  seems  to  require  '  gambling,'  to  which 
sense  the  derivation  from  Ital.  banchetto  (dim.  of  bancOy  a  table),  coupled 
with  the  expression  'gamehouses  and  tabling  houses'  in  Northbrook 
against  Dicing^  1577,  lends  itself;  but  perhaps  *  taking  a  nip,*  a  *  banquet' 
being  a  slight  refection  or  dessert.  A  halfpenny  was  equivalent  to  three- 
pence or  fourpence. 
P.  189,  9.  slip  at :  metaphor  from  coursing. 

14.  coming',  forward,  yielding,  as  in  Jonson's  Silent  Wotnan^  v.  i 
'  What  humour  is  she  ?  Is  she  coming,  and  open,  free  ? '  and  Voipone,  iii. 
5  *  If  you  were  absent  she  would  be  more  coming.*  Comming^  willingness, 
is  used  EuphueSf  ii.  141  1.  28. 

24.  Loue  and  beautie  disdaine  a  meane^  not  therefore  because  beautie 
is  no  vertue,  but  because  Jt  is  happines:  Lyly  is  thinking  of  the  Aristo- 
telian doctrine  of  virtue  as  a  mean  between  two  vicious  extremes,  while 
happiness,  the  end  of  virtue,  sought  for  itself,  is  not  to  be  measured  by 
the  same  standard  of  comparison  {Ethics^  I.  7.  4-5). 

P.  190,  46.  are  you  there  with  your  beares  f  \  i.  e.  is  that  what  you're 
about  ?    Colloquialism  from  the  bear-garden  (Fairholt). 

54.  the  line  of  life,  &c. :  the  furrow  passing  from  the  root  of  the 
thumb  to  the  centre  of  the  palm,  whose  length  was  supposed  to  denote 
the  duration  of  the  owner's  life.  'Venus'  mount'  is  the  fleshy  base 
of  the  thumb  (Fairholt). 

56.  well  scene  in  cranes  durt :  cf.  Skeat's  suggestion  s.v.  pedigree^ 
of  the  phrase  d  pied  de  grue^  as  of  something  with  only  one  leg  to 
stand  on. 

poulter :  *  poulterer :  a  young  turkey  is  still  termed  a  turkey 
poult  ^  (Fairholt).    Cf.  *  roister '  for  roisterer  (note  on  i.  i.  65). 

67.  You  need  ,  ,  ,  so  crustie,  &c. :  given  in  Ray's  Proverbs  (1678, 
p.  237).    *  Half-baked '  is  still  a  popular  term  for  one  of  weak  wits. 
P.  191,  Ih.  fulsome',  satiating,  and  so  distasteful.    Euph,  \,  182  1.  14 

*  Cheries  be  fulsome  when  they  be  through  rype,  bicause  they  be  piety.' 

76.  neuer  lesse  wit  in  a  yeere :  again  in  King  Lear^  i.  4.  160.  The 
apparently  otiose  *  in  a  year '  must  mean  *  in  any  year.' 

78.  out  of  all  scotch  and  notch  :  one  of  a  number  of  expressions  (like 
'out  of  all  cry*)  for  'excessively.'  Cf.  Hay  any  Worke,  p.  8  'The 
pleasure  you  haue  done  vnto  me  is  out  of  all  scotche  and  notche.' 

^1.  farewell  frost,  &c. :    Ray  (1678,  p.  243)  gives  the  proverb  as 

*  Farewell  frost.    Nothing  got  nor  nothing  lost.' 

P.  192,  2.  ouertaken;  i.e.  drunk  (1814). 

18.  cast  this  matter:  i.e.  the  liquor  has  made  him  sick,  hence  the 
need  for  bowl  and  broom  (181 4).    The  same  joke  repeated  v.  1.3. 

20.  IfircBy  sequar  :  Ter.  Andr,  i.  i.  144,  quoted  End,  iii.  3.  156. 

21.  que :  queue,  cue.  The  pun  that  follows  seems  to  substitute  '  Q*s 
and  K's  *  for  our  '  P*s  and  Q*s.' 


544  NOTES 

P.  108, 11.  hoystedin  the  Queenes  subs  i die  bam 
of  wealthy  persons  who  might  be  called  on  for  a  | 
and  Fletcher's  Scornful  Lady^  ii.  3  end.  Moreen 
if  he  assume  knighthood,  he  will  be  '  hoist  into  tl 
21.  Ru/us  .  ,  ,  a  paire  of  hose :  stockings 
worn  in  Anglo-Saxon  or  Norman  times. 

28.  wag-halter  \  one  who  will  swing  in  a 
suggests  Wedgwood,  is  an  abbreviation  of  the  te 

29.  spigot  .  .  faucet :  if  any  distinction  is  ra 
is  the  horizontal  pipe  or  tap  into  which  fits  the  p 
controls  the  flow  of  the  liquor. 

50.  blcuk  bouie :  of  leather,  like  a  jack. 

32.  stand:  a  cask  corresponding  to  a  hog 
a  Greene^  Dyce's  ed.  p.  267  a  *  a  stand  of  ale.* 

P.  194,  47.  leere :   learning.    ME.  leren,  to 
learn. 

48.  leame  heere  ,,,at  Ashford :  *  learn '  here 
Cf.  Psalm  XXV.  4  *  Lead  me  forth  in  thy  truth,  1 
4-5  Prisius  says  Candius  will  have  to  be  a 
History  of  Kent ^  vol.  iii.  p.  262,  mentions  no  grai 
at  Ashford  before  the  reign  of  Charles  I.  The  ' 
John  Fogge  in  the  time  of  Edward  IV  was  a 
saying  masses,  and  seems  to  have  been  dissolved 

51.  Sine  Cerere  &*  Baccho  friget  Venus :  a 
5.  6  (*  Libero*  for  *  Baccho*),  Cic.  De  Nat,  Deor. 
by  Lyly  Loi'es  Met.  v.  i.  46. 

58.  shall  cost  mee  the  setting  on:  the  *f 
charge. 

63.  tenters:  a  tenter  was  a  frame  for  streti 
hooks.    Prisius,  whose  father  was  a  tailor  i.  3.  ] 
of  some  fulling-mills.     See   v.  3.   144,  where 
Lucio  to  powder  in  his  mill. 

P.  186,  5.  without  modestie:  ed.  18 14  com 
but  the  word  here  means  confusion,  shame^Eicedn 
ii.  2. 289  *  there  is  a  kind  of  confession  in  your  loc 
have  not  craft  enough  to  colour.* 

9.  our  fathers :  so  *  our  parents  *  are  spokex 
putative  mother,  Vicinia,  is  introduced  v.  3. 

10.  the  succes  of  fortune:  i.e.  succession,  s 
may  ensue.  Cf.  Midas ^  iii.  I.  3  *in  thy  success 
TaUs  i.  3.  394  *  parents,  in  whose  success  we  ai 
A/a,Mhy  i.  7.  4  *  catch,  with  his  surcease,  success 

^•1.  kimdrtti  .  .  .  kindnes:  probably  alludi 
Uaiulet  (Actually  cites. 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  545 

P.  196, 57.  bewraie  our  fassions :    if  the  text  is  right  bewraie  must 
mean  *  abandon/  *  give  up.' 

1.  Ingenium  ....  At  nunc  .  .  .  nihil  \  Ov.  Afnor,  iii.  8.  3,  4. 

2.  crock  vp  golde :   *  the  old  money-pot  for  savings  was  made  of 
coarse  earthenware  and  broken  when  filled'  (Fairholt). 

6.  rongcUl\   i.e.  wrung,  rated,  abused,  a  sense  derived  from  the 
wringing  or  pinching  of  a  tight  shoe  (cf.  Euph,  ii.  10  1.  17).    But  possibly 
of  the  clatter  of  a  peal  of  bells :  c£  Beau,  and  Flet.  Humourous  Lieut,  v. 
I  *  I  would  ring  him  such  a  lesson.' 
P.  197,  10.  a  quarter  long:  a  quarter  of  an  hour  long. 

14.  euax,  vah,  hui:    Lilly  and   Colefs  A   Shorte  Introduction  of 
Grammar^  ed.  1 577,  4S  the  authorized  school  Latin  Grammar  of  the  day 
from  which  Lyly  frequently  quotes,  has  on  sig.  C  iij  recto,  treating  of 
Interjections—*  Some  are  of  myrth  :  as  EuaXy  vah.   Some  are  of  sorrow : 
as  Heu,  hei  .  .  .  Colling ;  as  Eho^  oh^  io^    Cf.  Endim.  iii.  3.  5. 

23.  cast',  arranged,  as  in  ii.  4.  18  '  cast  this  matter.' 

29.  hauing  Accius  apparell  should  court  Silena:  this  would 
have  been  in  accord  with  the  '  noting  the  apparell '  at  the  fools'  first 
interview ;  but  when  the  occasion  arrives  (iv.  2.  8)  the  fools  actually 
wear  Candius*  and  Livia's  dress,  which  accords  with  Halfpenny's  announce- 
ment just  below,  1.  50.  The  scheme  was  more  plausible  without  this 
unnecessary  change,  which  must  be  due  partly  to  Lyly*s  love  of  balance 
(for  it  was  essential  that  Candius  and  Livia  should  wear  the  fools'  dress), 
partly  to  his  fear  that,  if  the  fools  appeared  in  their  own  clothes,  the  audi- 
ence would  forget  that  the  father  of  each  was  to  suppose  his  son  or 
daughter  to  be  some  one  else. 

^,/odges'.  so  QQ  here  and  again  pp.  116,  123,  and  in  Endim, 
iv.  2  p.  55  as  rhyme  to  *  lodge.' 

41.  rundlet :  older  form  of '  runlet,'  a  small  barrel. 
P.  188,  44.  whitled :  drunk.     *  A  whittle  was  a  clasped  knife,  and 
a  person  in  liquor  is  still  sometimes  said  to  be  cut*  (i3l4).    Lie  by  it: 
are  laid  up  for  it.    Cf.  Pappe^  p.  17  'make  you  blush  and  lie  by  it,'  i.  e. 
hide  your  head. 

47.  sod\  sodden.  Skeat  quotes  no  instance  of 'sod'  as  past  participle  of 
*  seethe,'  though  it  occurs  as  past  tense  in  Gen.  xxv.  29  *  Jacob  sod  pottage.' 

48.  spit  white  broth',  Nares  compares  2  Henry  IVy  i,  2.  237 — 
doubtfully. 

50.  they  wonder:  i.e.  Candius  and  Livia,  to  whom  also  *marrie 
them '  in  the  next  speech  refers. 

P.  198,  22.  Accius  tongue  ,  .  .  his  fathers  teeth :  Ray's  Proverbs  (ed. 
1678,  p.  255)  gives  as  *of  marriage ' — *  He  hath  tied  a  knot  with  his 
tongue  that  he  cannot  untie  with  all  his  teeth.' 

27.  lapwing-like^  &c. :  cf.  Euph,  and  his  Eng,  Ep.  Ded.  (vol.  ii. 
p.  4  1-  18). 

BOKD   III  N    n 


546  NOTES 

34.  cursie:   courtesy.    *  To  strain  courtesy  *  is  to  be  wanting  in  it,  as 
in  Euph,  ii.  8i  I.  13,  where  Euphues  fears  to  strain  courtesy  by  arriving 
late  at  night. 
P.  200,  2.  packe  :  plot. 

laie  dawne  the  packe :  i.  e.  the  bundle  of  clothes  she  is  carrying. 

5.  Omne  solum^  &c. :  Ovid,  Fast,  i.  493. 

christendome  .  .  .  Kent:  Ray  (Proverbs^  p.  313,  2nd  ed.)  considers 
'  Neither  in  Kent  nor  Christendom '  a  reminiscence  of  the  time  when  the 
Christian  Britons  gave  Kent  to  the  Pagan  Saxon  invaders,  while  Fuller 
refers  it  rather  to  the  first  Christianizing  of  Kent  by  Augustine,  as  one 
might  say  '  the  first  cut  and  all  the  loaf  beside.'  Probably  the  opposi- 
tion is  merely  between  the  part  and  the  whole. 

7.  Patria  \e5i\  uHcumque  \€si\  dene:  a  line,  possibly  of  Pacuvius, 
quoted  Cic.  Tusc.  5.  37. 

18.  ^ose  so  gray  in  the  take,  &c. :  Chaucer's  Wife  of  Bathes  ProL 
D.  269-70  has  the  proverb. 

29.  beatedst  hempe :  i.  e.  in  a  house  of  correction  (1814). 

30.  crabbs  she  statnpt^  &c. :  '  crab  apples  are  stamped  or  pounded  to 
make  verjuice '  (18 14),  and  their  sourness  naturally  associates  them  with 
a  hard  or  wrinkled  face. 

P.  201,  34.  hang  in  a  halter  sounds  like  a  proverb  for  being  of  one 
and  the  same  kind,  and  here  seems  equivalent  to  arcades  ambo, 

45.  noyse:  company  of  musicians.  Halliwell  quotes  Dekker's  Be!' 
man,  1608  '  Those  terrible  noyses  with  thredbare  cloakes.' 

50.  The  Pag, :  Blount  *  4  Pag.'  misled  no  doubt  by  Rixula's  *  foure 
together '  in  the  next  line  but  one ;  but  Dromio  and  Riscio  have  not  yet 
entered,  and  she  speaks  merely  in  anticipation  of  their  arrival. 

55.  PhiPfPhip:  an  abbreviation  of  Philip,  and  supposed  to  sound 
like  the  bird's  note.  Fairholt  quotes  from  Skelton's  E/egy  of  Philip 
Sparowe — 

'And  when  I  sayd  Phyp,  Phyp, 
Then  he  wold  lepe  and  skyp.' 
57.  hoids  tack :  *  is  appropriate,'  that  is,  the  parrot  is  naturally  asso- 
ciated with  *  ropery '  or  roguery ;  or  else— the  mention  of  rope  is  in  keeping 
with  such  a  subject  as  yourselves.     Cf.  Beau,  and  Fl.  IVit  at  Several 
Weapons,  iii.  i 

Mf  I  knew  where  to  borrow  a  contempt 
Would  hold  thee  tack,'  &c. 
S.  D.  [carrying  clothes,  &c.] :  the  addition  is  warranted  by  the  mention 
of  *  baggage '  just  below,  and  by  Riscio's  remark  at  the  end  of  the  scene 
'  Heere  is  Silenas  attire.' 

63.  heres  euery  man  his  baggage :  possibly  also  with  proverbial  sense 
*  this  is  every  one's  concern,'  'we  are  all  in  the  same  boat.' 
P.  202,  101.  Brewish  or  'brewis'  is  'bread  soaked  in  the  liquor  m 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  547 

which  salt  meat  has  been  boiled,  sometimes  used  for  the  liquid  only ' 
(1814).  Cf.  Fletcher's  Mad  Lover,  ii.  2.  8  *Beef  .  .  .  lined  with 
brewis.* 

102.  poudred:  salted. 
P.  203,  115.  hoxei  hamstring.    Whitney  quotes  Wyclif,  Josh.  xi.  6 
*  Thou  shalt  hoxe  the  horsis  of  hem.' 

123.  a  wedding  fresh  a  beating \  ed.  1814  explains  it  as  'afoot,' 
and  mentions  that  in  Yorkshire  'beating'  is  equivalent  to  'breeding.' 
But  the  notion  is  rather  that  of  fashioning  in  metal,  transferred  to 
the  brain.  But  cf.  v.  3.  290  'a  match  in  hanunering,'  and  Tempest, 
V.  246 

'  Do  not  infest  your  mind  with  beating  on 
The  strangeness  of  this  business.' 
127.  prest :  glazed  (Fairholt). 

130.  raisons  of  the  sunne  or  '  sun-raisins '  are  raisins  dried  on  the 
vine,  the  leaves  being  removed,  and  the  cluster-stem  sometimes  half- 
severed  (Whitney). 

131.  the  quest :  i.  e.  the  jury. 

F.  204, 162.  because  he  doth  die :  i.  e.  by  the  trade  of  dyeing. 

175.  What  is  all  our  fortunes  / :  i.  e.  how  shall  we  fare  in  our  joint 
enterprise  ? 
P.  206, 180.  if  you  were :  i.  e.  found  cozener,  or  cozened. 

5.  and  hee  wise :  Dilke's  emendation  wise  for  wist  yields  better  sense 
than  to  take  and,  as  often,  for  an — *  if  he  knew.' 

S.  D.  Enter  Dromio,  Risiox  Dromio  and  Riscio,  rather  than 
Halfpenny  and  Lucio,  attend  the  betrothal  of  Candius  and  Livia,  because 
they  are  supporting  the  characters  of  Accius  and  Silena.  Similarly  in 
Sc.  2  Halfpenny  and  Lucio  attend  the  supposed  Candius  and  Livia. 

F.  206,  20.  spurre  schollers  :  ask,  ply  them  with  questions  or  retorts  : 
simply  the  term  of  horsemanship  applied,  by  established  metaphor,  to 
scholastic  disputation.  Spere,  Lowl.  Sc.  speir,  AS.  spyrian,  inquire, 
investigate,  are  allied,  not  derivative;  AS.  spor,  a  foot-trace.  Again, 
iv.  2.  23,  185;  Pappe,  pp.  395  1.  3,  396  1.  21  'which  (wit)  if  he  spurre 
with  his  copper  replie ' ;  and  Rom.  b*  Jul,  ii.  4. 70  '  My  wit  faints,'  *  Switch 
and  spurs.' 

22.  ten  grotes , , ,  to  sale  seruice :  this  would  equal  about  eight  times 
as  much  of  our  money,  i.  e.  about  27  shillings.  A  guinea  a  service  is  the 
supposed  honorarium  to-day. 

24.  hence  to  Canterbury  :  i.  e.  26  or  27  miles. 

27.  some  poast  to  his  master :  i.  e.  sleepy  fool  who  let  him  run  wild. 
Serued,  1.  25,  probably  »  '  played  a  trick  on,'  i.  e.  the  Hackneyman. 

32.  Molle  eius  leuibus,  &c. :  Lyly  adapts  (perhaps  from  the  Shorte 
Introduction  of  Grammar,  fol.  L  5  verso)  Ov.  Her»  xv.  79  *  Molle  meum, 
levibusque  cor  est  violabile  telis ' ;  but  Q^  printed  by  mistake  '  inviolabile, 

N  n  2 


548  NOTES 

which  led  Q'  (Bl.  F.)  to  corrupt  *  MoUe  *  into  '  Male '  (Male  inviolabi]e= 
violabile),  and  so  bring  the  line  into  accord  with  what  follows.  Lyly  quotes 
the  line,  Loves  Met,  v.  2.  lo,  with  omission  of  que^  which  lengthens  cor, 
33.  a  heart  named  Ceruus :  execrable  pun  on  *  hart.' 
37.  comming:  step*    Dilke's  change  to  coughing  (cf.  i.  3.65)  is  quite 
unnecessary. 

45.  Bauins:  'faggots  of  furze- wood'  (Fairholt):  'rash  bavin  wits, 
Soon  kindled  and  soon  burnt'  (i  Henry  IV,  iii.  2.  61). 

P.  207,  54.  dangers  in  the  Church:  we,  &c. :  Dilke's  emendation, 
which  by  putting  a  colon  at  *  dangers '  constructs  '  in  the  Church '  with 
what  follows,  is  not  absolutely  necessary  and  destroys  the  Lylian  balance. 
The  *  dangers  in  the  Church '  which  Livia  anticipates  are  the  risks  atten- 
dant on  the  asking  of  the  banns.  Dilke  notes  that  the  canon  forbidding 
a  minister  to  celebrate  matrimony  without  licence  or  banns  was  not 
enacted  till  1603 ;  and  quotes  Greene's  Tu  Quoque  and  the  wedding  of  Isa- 
bella and  Francisco  in  Beau,  and  Flet.  Wit  without  Money  for  instances 
of  weddings  celebrated  about  5.0  a.m.  without  licence  or  banns. 

80.  to  Memfihios  house :  Candius  speaks  in  his  r61e  of  Memphio's  son. 

81.  this  cottons :  succeeds,  suits ;  derived  by  Wedgwood  from  the 
matting  or  clinging  together  of  a  lock  of  wool  or  hair.  Cf.  *  So,  twill 
cotton,'  p.  210  1.  84.    See  N.E.D.,  s.  v. 

P.  208,  4.  //  wets  too  good  to  be  true,  &c. :  Halfpenny  fears  that  their 
idea  (of  matching  Ace.  and  Sil.)  was  too  funny  to  become  fact,  for  they 
will  betray  the  scheme  by  laughing. 

9.  to  as  much  purpose  as  a  hem  in  the  forehead',  the  injury  inflicted 
on  the  proverb  here  *  knockt  in  the  head '  is  too  great  for  its  recovery. 
*  Hem '  is  possibly  for  *  horn,'  but  this  is  unsatisfactory. 

23.  Spurre :  ask  ;  see  note  on  *  spurre  schollers,'  p.  206  1.  20. 

P.  209,  28.  I  crie  you  mercy . . .  ioyndstoole :  this  proverb  for  an  unfor- 
tunate apology  or  a  pert  reply  is  enumerated  in  Ray's  Proverbs^  occurs  b 
Lear,  iii.  6.  53,  and  is  alluded  to  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  ii.  i.  199,  where 
Katharine  further  explains  her  term  '  moveable '  as  applied  to  Petrucfaio 
by  the  word  *  joint-stool'  (Nares). 

29.  conduit :  '  in  the  time  of  our  poet,  the  lower  classes  of  people 
fetched  the  water  in  pails  and  other  vessels  from  the  conduits,  and  conse- 
quently a  considerable  assemblage  of  both  sexes  was  frequently  to  be 
seen  at  such  places'  (ed.  1814). 

82.  giue  me  the  boots :  this  allusion  to  the  torture  of  the  boot,  which 
crushed  the  leg  by  pressure,  had  passed  into  a  phrase  for  making  game  of 
a  person.    Cf.  Two  Gentlemen,  i.  i.  27. 

83.  coblers  cuts :  seems  to  mean  '  odds  and  ends.' 

39.  gascoins  .  .  .  round  hose :  '  gascoynes  [gaskins  or  galligaskins] 
were  loose  wide  breeches ;  the  round  hose  fitted  the  leg  closely'  (Fairholt). 
The  latter  would  therefore  indicate  a  closer  degree  of  acquaintance  or 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  549 

favour.  In  Dekker's  Shoemaker's  Holiday ^  ii.  i,  Sybil  says  of  Lacy,  her 
mistress'  suitor,  who  has  declined  to  recognize  her  in  public,  '  Go  thy 
ways,  thought  I ;  thou  may'st  be  much  in  my  gaskins,  but  nothing  in 
ray  nether-stocks.* 

50.  afraiU  offigges :  Nares  gives  it  as  a  rush  or  mat  basket  holding 
about  70  pounds,  and  quotes  Mirrour  for  Mag.  p.  482  '  Two  hundred 
frailes  of  figs  and  raisons  fine.' 

52.  Sauing  a  reuerencei  salvi  reverent!^,  sometimes  contracted  to 
^  surreverence,'  an  apology  for  using  a  strong  expression.  Beau,  and  Flet. 
Humourous  Lieut  iv.  i  *  Surreverence,  Love !  *  of  what  Celia  knows  to  be 
lust. 

P.  210,  64.  Theres  a  glieke  .  . .  girde  :  *  glicks  and  girds/  i.  e.  jests  and 
sarcasms,  occur  together  in  Papfe^  p.  412  1.  23. 

66.  kild  your  cushion :  Silena  is  probably  garbling  the  expression 

*  missed  the  cushion '  or  mark  in  archery,  which  occurs  Eufih.  i,  237  1.  22. 

79-84.  Stel,  {aside  to  Luc)  What  is  she?  &c.:  my  change  of  the  pre- 
fixes is  warranted  by  the  speeches  of  Memphio  and  Stellio  (U.  11 5-20),  and 
by  Memphio's  later  question  to  Halfpenny,  1.  133.  Each  parent  expects 
to  find,  not  his  own  child,  but  some  one  personating  his  child  ;  and  each, 
being  behind  his  child's  back,  asks  who  the  personator  is,  and  does  not 
recognize  that  only  the  clothes  are  changed,  until  the  children  speak  or 
turn  round.    (Cf.  *  l['ll]  looke  him  in  the  face,'  1.  93.) 

P.  211,  96.  I perceiue  an  olde  sawe :  I  recognize  the  truth  of  it.  Dilke 
rightly  observes  that  this  speech  (down  to  ^  old  foole ')  is  '  somewhat  out 
of  character  for  Accius,  and  might  be  given  with  good  point  to  Halfpenny ' ; 
or,  I  would  suggest,  annexed  to  the  previous  speech  of  Stellio. 

108.  begdfor  a  concealde  foole  \  see  note  on  Act  i.  sc.  i.  p.  74. 

112.  improued  to  the  vttermost :  i.  e.  you  make  the  best  show  you  can 
with  brains  so  deficient.  *  Improving,*  as  Halfpenny's  next  remark  shows, 
was  a  term  for  raising  rents.  Comp.  Beau,  and  Flet.  King  and  No  Kingy 
i.   I,  where  Arbaces  chaffingly  asks  Mardonius  whether  the  wenches 

*  improve  themselves '  or  whether  he  *  sits  at  an  old  rent  with  'em.' 

128.  this  geare  must  befetcht  about :  i.  e.  I  must  go  rounds  another 
way  about  my  purpose. 

P.  212, 134.  Sperantus  sonne :  Prisius^  sonne  of  all  eds.  is  obviously 
wrong,  as  Prisius  has  no  son.  See  my  note  on  the  prefixes  just  above 
(on  p.  210 11.  79-84). 

187.  Lucio  (to  Stellio)  And  so  ^  sir^  &c. :  Lucio's  *by  nature'  insinu- 
ates the  folly  of  parents,  so  that  his  answer  is  the  equivalent  of  Halfpenny's 
just  before, '  they '  meaning  both  Accius  and  Silena.  Stellio's  question  as 
to  why  he  told  him  it  was  Prisius'  daughter  is  supposed  to  have  been  put, 
and  parried  :  but  I  have  my  doubts  whether  the  complexity  of  the  plot  has 
not  led  to  some  corruption  of  the  text  here,  as  above. 

139.  ioyntes  are  not  yet  tied :  equivalent  to  *  bones  not  yet  set.' 


550  NOTES 

162.  go  for  a  quel   i.e.  q.,  the  arithmetical  mark  for  a  farthing 
(quadrans). 
P.  218,  163.  currcmtly :  either  '  fluently '  or  '  in  ordinary  fashion.' 

171.  cUedex  Halfpenny  coins  a  word  to  suggest  that  the  Hackney- 
man  is  drunk. 

180.  bottle :  truss.  Bottom  in  Mid.  N,  Dream^  iv.  i.  yj  has  'a  great 
desire  to  a  bottle  of  hay.' 

185.  sfiurd him  :  pun  on  the  use  of  spur  in  the  sense  of  'ask,'  as 
above,  notes  on  pp.  206 1.  20,  208  1.  23. 

188.  stand  vpon  no  ground',  in  Peele's  Polyhymnia^  i59o»  Ned- 
ham's  '  lusty  horse  .  .  •  Would  snort,  and  stamp,  and  stand  upon  no 
ground.' 

192.  gently :  '  as  to  a  gentleman,'  who  would  use  him  decently ;  or, 
but  less  probably, '  at  an  easy  rate.' 

193.  neither  would  cry  wyhie^  nor  wa^  the  tcdle :  Ray's  Proverbs^ 
2nd  ed.  (1678),  p.  157,  gives  ^  It's  an  ill  horse  can  neither  whinny  nor  wag 
his  tail.'  In  Marston's  The  Fawne,  Act  iv  '  al  that  can  wyhee  or  wag  the 
taile '  is  used  as  a  synonym  for  '  all  of  any  spirit.' 

195.  boare  him  thorough  the  eares :  probably  done  for  purposes  of 
identification,  when  a  horse  was  grazing  among  others.  A  slit  in  the 
ear  serves  this  purpose  on  the  prairies  to-day.  The  implication  is  that 
Dromio  had  earmarked  with  intent  to  steal  him.  Compare  with  this, 
or  with  Lucio's  suggestion  of  the  pillory,  Halfpenny's  remark,  as  bodkin, 
ii.  I.  III. 

P.  214,  201.  tyre^  and  retire:  tyre  possibly  (in  a  sense  derived  from 
that  of  a  hawk  *  tiring  on '  (Fr.  tirer)y  pulling  at  her  prey)  of  pulling  at 
the  bridle,  trying  to  get  his  head;  or,  with  seruice^  *be  busy  about,* 
*  make  a  fuss ' ;  or  simply  *  grow  tired.'    Retire ,  i.  e.  jib. 

206.  So  he  shall  when  I  make  him  a  bargen :  i.  e.  Ill  take  good 
security  when  next  I  deal  with  him. 

218.  maltmare:  i.e.  brewer's  horse,  dray-horse. 

214.  trotted  be/ore  and  ambled  behinde :  i.  e.  with  fore  and  hind  legs 
respectively,  to  express  the  discomfort  caused  to  the  rider  by  his  action. 

218.  pose :  a  cold  or  running  at  the  nose :  Midas^  v.  2. 109  'a  catarre, 
the  pose,  the  water  euill.'  *  By  the  pose  in  thy  nose,'  Beau,  and  Flet*  The 
Chances^  v.  3  (Nares).    Ed.  18 14  quotes  Chaucer — 

'He  speketh  in  his  nose 
And  sneseth  fast  and  eke  he  hath  the  pose.' 

Manciple's  Prologue  [L  62]. 

223.  towne  borne  children  :  so  of  Philautus  in  Euph,  i.  199  L  21. 

225.  statute  Marchant:  obsolete  form  of  bond,  acknowledged  be- 
fore the  chief  magistrate  of  a  trading-town,  the  forfeiture  of  which 
might  be  followed  by  an  execution  against  body,  lands  and  goods  (Cent, 
Diet.). 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  551 

P.  215,  245.  They  will  ride  them  :  i.  c.  ride  our  wits.    Cf.  Pappe^  p.  395 
1.  2  *  If  he  ride  me,  let  the  foole  sit  fast,  for  my  wit  is  verie  kickish.' 
246.  bleed  their follyes ;  i.  e.  give  them  vent,  exhibit  them. 

3.  cast  it  vp :  Elizabethan  stomachs  were  strong  enough  for  a  repe- 
tition of  the  joke  of  ii.  4.  18. 

4.  pen  out  of  the  pot:  pun  on  pen  in  sense  of  beak  or  nose. 
Henry  K,  ii.  3.  17  *his  nose  was  as  sharp  as  a  pen.' 

7.  *  lost  there  vp,  bay  Richard /^ :  as  he  would  cry  to  a  horse. 

8.  horsebread:  made  after  special  recipes,  of  which  Nares  s.v.  quotes 
two  from  books  on  hunting.  In  Fletcher's  Night-Walker ^  v.  i, Toby,  the 
coachman,  cries 

*0h  that  I  were  in  my  oat-tub  with  a  horse-loaf, 
Something  to  hearten  me ! ' 
P.  216,  13.  in  these  same yeeres :  i.  e.  in  your  long  experience. 
P.  217,  11.  spittle  for  his  pinne :  i.e.  to  make  the  pegs  which  tightened 
the  strings  hold  fast.    The  Century  Diet,  quotes  *  ye'U  make  a  pin  to  your 
fiddle  '  The  Bonny  Bows  0*  London  {Child's  Ballads^  ii.  362). 

14.  into  the  leads  for  a  hobler :  *  into  the  ^tter  for  a  mark  to  throw 
at '  (Fairholt).  *  Hobler '  seems  to  be  identical  with  *  hob,'  which  Halli- 
well  gives  as  a  piece  of  wood  set  up  on  end  with  a  halfpemiy  on  the  top 
to  be  pitched  at  So,  by  association,  *  hob  nob '  for  *  hab  nab '  (habban 
and  ne  habban — *  not  to  have '),  which  Skeat  gives  as  *  hit  or  miss,' '  at 
random,'  and  which  occurs  in  Euphues^  ii.  123  1.  il. 

19.  brabble :  brawl,  quarrel,  used  as  verb  in  Massinger  and  Middle- 
ton's  Lovers  Cure,  ii.  2  *  I  did  never  brabble,'  and  as  a  noun.  Twelfth 
Night,  V.  68  *  In  private  brabble  did  we  apprehend  him.* 

to  morrow  is  a  new  dale:  a  conmion  phrase  in  deferring  the 
settlement  or  pursuit  of  a  subject.  In  Fletcher's  Night- Walker ^  ii.  3 
Lurcher  replies  to  his  mistress'  wish  to  examine  the  chest  at  once  with 
*  To  morrow's  a  new  day,  sweet ' ;  also  Custom  of  the  Country,  iv.  4. 

20.  /  afn  sorrie  I  speake  in  your  cast :  Bedunenus  apologizes.  The 
phrase  means  to  interrupt  or  put  another  speaker  out, '  cast '  being  the 
part  allotted  to  an  actor.  Cf.  Euphues,  ii.  172  1.  24,  and  55  L  6  '  If  I  may 
speak  in  your  cast,  quoth  Iffida,'  the  preceding  speaker  having  paused  to 
drink.  The  N.E.  D.  quotes  Roger's  Naaman  (1642),  46  *As  when  the 
minde  is  filled  with  businesse,  all  that  is  spoken  is,  as  it  were,  spoken  in 
a  man's  cast.' 

S.  D.  Sing :  The  song  is  not  given,  perhaps,  as  Fairholt  suggests, 
because  it  was  not  by  Lyly,  but  a  popular  song  in  common  use  on  such  occa- 
sions ;  but  Blount  omits  many  others  (see  below,  pp.  592-3,  and  Essay, 
vol.  ii.  p.  265).  '  The  Loue  Knot '  would  not  be  inappropriate  as  a  title 
for  the  *  catch '  given  some  twenty  lines  further  on ;  but  Synis'  words 
there  seem  to  imply  choice  of  a  different  song  to  suit  a  patron  of  higher 
rank. 


552  NOTES 

P.  218,  32.  fairely  hanged,    Nas,  So  he  is,  sir:  the  pun  may  be  to 
take  *  hanged '  in  the  sense  of  *  hooked/  or  '  hung  up,'  *  settled  in  life.* 

38.  /  thinke  it  was  Memfhios  sonne :  Synis  adopts  the  attitude  Can- 
dius  requires  of  him,  for  the  benefit  of  Sperantus  (h'stening  above),  who  in 
iv.  I  witnessed,  as  he  thought,  the  troth-plight  of  Memphio's  n  and 
Stellio's  daughter. 

44.  ten  shiilings  is  money  in  master  Maiors purse :  the  angel  was  worth 
about  I  Of.,  i.  e.  eight  times  as  much  now,  and  Bedunenus'  remark  seems 
to  be  a  proverb,  with  the  sense  '  ten  shillings  is  a  sum  a  rich  man  might 
look  twice  at.'  Fairholt  wrongly  supposes  an  allusion  to  Memphio^  who 
on  the  next  page  *  stands  to  be  Maior.' 

48.  cry  at  the  SizeSy  a  marke  in  issues :  what  the  cry  really  repre- 
sents escapes  me,  as  it  has  escaped  previous  editors ;  but  I  am  afraid 
there  is  no  doubt  that  Lyly  intends  the  execrable  pun  *  a  mark  (i.  e.  ijx.  4//.) 
in  [h]is  shoes.' 

52.  handsellx  instalment.  Bedunenus  is  open  to  further  oflfers. 
P.  219,  66.  Tick'tacke:  or  tric-trac.  Nares  quotes  The  Comflcat 
Gatnestery  p.  113  'This  is  the  plain  game  of  tick-tack,  which  is  so  called 
from  touch  and  take^  for  if  you  touch  a  man  you  must  play  him,  though 
to  your  loss,'  and  the  present  passage  seems  to  show  that  the  derivation, 
if  erroneous,  was  that  popularly  accepted. 

77.  a  huddle :  *  an  embrace,'  says  Fairholt :  but  the  word  is  usually 
applied  to  old  men,  from  their  multitudinous  wraps ;  and  was  possibly 
occasionally  used,  for  the  same  reason,  of  a  baby. 

78.  crouding :  fiddling.  *  Crowd,'  a  fiddle,  from  Welsh  crwth,  any- 
thing swelling  out,  a  bulge  or  belly  (Skeat). 

87.  the  roodes  bodie :  the  figure  of  the  crucified  Saviour  on  the  rood- 
screen. 

100.  the  foure  waites :  i.  e.  the  town  waits,  or  musicians  (Fairhoh). 
Wring,  *  bear  the  brunt  of  it.* 

P.  220,  111-3.  a  wise  man  is  melancholy,  &c. :  Lyly  anticipates  Rosa- 
lind's '  1  had  rather  have  a  fool  to  make  me  merry  than  experience  to 
make  me  sad.*  A,  Y,L.L  iv.  i.  30.  For  'mooneshine  in  the  water*  dL 
End.  ii.  2.  2. 

114.  dames  chafing:  for  Memphio's' shrewish  wife  cf.  i.  i.  2,  73-80. 

116.  /  would  her  tongue  were  in  thy  belly :  explained  by  the  allusion 
to  'pinching'  I.  122.  Memphio  humorously  wishes  that  his  wife's 
economical  preachments  could  be  embodied  in  Dromio*s  appetite:  or 
means  simply,  that  so  much  of  a  tongue  as  hers  would  be  enough  to  stay 
even  Dromio's  stomach. 

119.  that  makes  :  clapper  is  antecedent  to  that, 

133.  rustle  into :  come  with  whispered  gossip  into. 
P.  221,  141.  imbesell :  *  embezzle,'  showing  the  derivation  ot  the  word 
from  a  verb  corresponding  to  O.  French  Mmb^cill*  or  *  imb^cel,'  mean- 
ing to  weaken,  diminish,  or  enfeeble  (Skeat). 


MOTHER  BOMBIE  553 

144.  grinde  thee  to  ponder  in  my  mill;  Prisius  is  probably  a  fuller 
by  trade.    See  note  on  ii.  5.  63. 

155.  the  clocke  cryedy  &&:   i.  e.  the  wedding  was  concluded  within 
legal  hours,  before  twelve  struck. 
P.  222,  173.  gigloti  wanton  girl. 

189.  oatemeale  groate :  no  particular  coin  alluded  to,  '  oatmeal ' 
being  a  cant  tenn  for  a  swaggerer  or  profligate.  In  Ford  and  Dekker's 
The  Suns  Darlings  i.  i,  Folly  has  a  song  in  which  he  says  he  will  *  Do 
mad  prank  with  |  Roaring  boys  and  Oatmeals.' 

198.  conuey :  polite  term  for  stealing.    Merry  IVives,  i.  3.    I^ich,  IJ, 
iv.  ad  fin. 
P.  223,  208.  schritch  owle :  cf.  Euphues^  ii.  "j^  1.  13,  79  1.  32. 

219.  beeing  trust :  i.  e.  trussed,  with  my  trousers  up,  as  the  context 
shows,  hose  and  breeches  being  one  garment  Dilke  wrongly  interprets '  As 
good  confess  here,  whilst  I  am  trusted,  as  at  home  when  I  am  trussed  up 
for  whipping.' 

229-31.  met . ,  ,  no  mountainesj  . . .  tauern  . .  .  mortall :  with  the 
first  cf.  As  You  Like  It^  iii.  2.  186  '  'tis  a  hard  matter  for  friends  to  meet ; 
but  mountains  may  be  removed  with  earthquakes  and  so  encounter': 
and  'Though  mountaines  meet  not,  Louers  may,'  in  the  last  stanza  of 
a  poem  in  Davison's  Poet.  Rapsody^  1602  *  It  chanct  of  late  a  shepherds 
swain,'  from  which  the  signature  *Anomos'  (=A.W.)  is  withdrawn  after 
the  first  edition,  and  which  might  be  Lyly's :  cf.  above,  p.  443.  The  second 
seems  to  allude  to  the  comparison  of  human  life  to  an  inn,  of  which  we 
have  an  instance  in  Quarrendon,  vol.  L  p.  468  IL  1-4. 

233.  trouble  the  water  before  they  dronke :  Lyly  is  alluding  to  this 
fact  recorded  of  camels  by  ^Pliny,  NcU,  Hist,  viii.  26  as  before  Euphuesy 
ii.  143  1.  14  note,  and  after  in  Pappe^  p.  396  1.  16. 

P.  224,  268.  the  humble-bees  kisse :  '  sting '  is  frequent  in  the  dramatists 
of  sexual  action. 

269.  banes :  banns,  as  in  Euph.  i.  199  1.  36. 
P.  226,  308.  mandrage :   mandragora.     Nares  quotes  *  Dioscorides 
doth  particularly  set  downe  many  faculties  hereof,  of  which  notwithstand- 
ing there  be  none  proper  unto  it,  save  those  that  depend  upon  the 
drowsie  and  sleeping  power  thereof  (Gerard's  Herbal y  in  Mandragoras), 

313,  as  I  hauepittied  them  :  i.  e.  Memphio  and  Stellio's  children,  in 
not  killing  them,  as  she  had  intended  to  do  with  her  own  offspring. 

P.  226,  325.  be  cosned  by  cosners :  this  part  of  the  prophecy  must  be 
supposed  to  have  been  fulfilled  by  the  revelation  of  Vicinia's  cozening, 
which  has  frustrated  the  servants'  plot  to  match  Accius  and  Silena. 

330.  neuer  doing  hanney  but  still  practising  good:  Memphio  here 
endorses  a  public  repute  that  has  found  expression  twice  before,  from 
Serena,  iii.  i.  27,  and  from  Riscio,  iii.  4.  89 :  with  which  we  may  com- 
pare the  respect  shown  by  Vicinia,  v.  2,  and  the  mingled  kindness  and 


S54  NOTES 

dignity  of  her  reception  of  the  five  servants  in  iii.  4,  especially  her  refusal 
of  money  and  insistence  on  civility,  iii.  4.  183.  Lyiy,  in  fact,  seems  to 
have  intended  a  protest  against  the  prejudice  often  entertained  against 
these  '  wise  women '  as  witches  in  league  with  Satan,  a  distrust  indicated 
in  Maestius  and  Serena,  iii.  i  and  partly  in  the  Pages  in  iii.  4. 

342.  thyfiut :  common  of  some  bad  or  monstrous  act. 
P.  227,  352.  balde  :  i.  e.  barren,  useless,  poor. 

eate  . .  .  pie :  potato-pie,  a  supposed  provocative,  common  at  wedding- 
feasts. 

370.  Jle  crie  quittance :  a  threat,  not  an  overture :  ^  PU  be  even  with 
you.* 

373.  such  a  Nouerint  as  Cheapside^  &c. :  the  exordium  of  Latin  deeds, 
equivalent  to  '  Know,  all  men.'  Cf.  the  oft-quoted  passage  about '  leaue 
the  trade  of  Noverint^  whereto  they  were  borne '  in  Nash's  Epistle  pre- 
fixed to  Greene's  Menaphon^  p.  9  (Arber).  Legal  summonses  are  associ- 
ated with  Cheapside  because  the  Court  of  Arches  was  held  in  the  church 
of  St.  Mary  le  Bow  (de  Arcubus)  in  that  street.  Cf.  Nash's  Haue  with 
you  *  into  the  Arches  we  might  step,  and  heare  him  plead,'  quoted  vol.  L 
p.  61,  note. 
P.  228,  392.  tosse  it :  toss  pots,  drink. 

396.  a  cast  of  your  office :  specimen,  example. 

402.  vpseekings:  I  know  of  no  other  instance.  Possibly  a  con- 
fusion is  intended  with  the  prefix  '  upsee '  or  '  upsey '  (q.v.  Nares)  associ- 
ated with  phrases  for  intoxication.  What  Silena  means  is  '  we  are  not 
responsible  for  that.' 

THE   WOMAN   IN   THE   MOONE. 

P.  240,  4-10.  Dram.  Pers.— Saturn,  &c.  .  .  .  Seven  Plantts :  the 
Ptolemaic  system  of  the  universe,  which,  in  spite  of  Copernicus,  still  and 
for  a  century  later  dominated  popular  conceptions,  conceived  the  Earth 
as  the  centre  round  which  revolved  the  Planets  in  seven  successive 
spheres,  of  which  the  Moon  was  nearest,  Saturn  the  farthest,  and  the 
Sun  (*  the  glorious  Planet  Sol,'  Troil.  b»  Cress,  i.  3.  89)  the  fourth. 

12.  Ganymede,  &c.:  a  stage-direction  in  the  quarto  (ii.  i.  175} 
mentions  Jove's  '  Exit  with  Ganimede,'  though  his  presence  has  not  been 
indicated  before,  and  no  part  is  written  for  him.  He  is  mentioned  by 
Juno,  ii.  I.  54,  and  twice  by  Pandora,  iii.  2.  81,  148,  who  should  there- 
fore have  seen  him.  He  must  be  supposed  to  have  been  conferring  with 
Jupiter  in  the  space  behind  the  balcony,  from  the  time  of  the  latter's 
disappearance  ii.  i.  81  till  his  re-entry  ib.  1.  168. 

15.  Pandora  :  to  what  is  said  under  Sources,  pp.  234-6,  I  add  that 
Turbervile,  dedicating  to  Anne  Countess  of  Warwick  his  Epitaphes^ 
Epigrams,  Songs,  and  Sonets,  1567,  in  an  introductory  poem  describes 
the  gods  and  goddesses  uniting  to  make  the  Countess  perfect  in  mind 


THE  WOMAN  IN  THE   MOONE  555 

and  person ;  and  that  Elizabeth  had  been  called  Pandora  in  the  earlier 
eds.  of  Warner's  ^/^V7«,  1586,  1589. 

P.  241,  3.  Prol. — A  point  beyond  the  auncient  Theorique :  i.  e.  not 
mentioned  in  the  received  system  of  astronomy. 

5.  Vtopia:  distinguished  from  known  countries  by  an  Arcadian 
simplicity,  but  imagined  as  somewhere  on  the  earth's  surface :  cf.  i.  i. 
1 1  *  this  Massiue  earth/  and  v.  263  *  conuey  her  from  the  earth.' 

17.  Remember  all  is  but  a  Poets  dreamei  this  apology  for  faults  is 
borrowed,  as  Fairholt  points  out,  by  Shakespeare  in  the  Epilogue  to 
Mids,  N.  Dream,  which  bears  other  resemblances  to  Lyly's  play — 

If  we  shadows  have  offended, 
Think  but  this  and  all  is  mended, 
That  you  have  but  slumbered  here 
While  these  visions  did  appear. 
P  242  5-6     \^^^^^  ^  suruey  the  pictured  finnament, 

I  With  hurtlesse  flames  in  concaue  of  the  Moone,  &c. : 
this  rather  vague  description,  suggested  I  think  by  Pliny,  bk.  ii.  ch.  4, 
is  intended  to  represent  Utopia  as  a  storehouse  of  Nature's  materials.  The 
four  elements  are  enumerated  as  in  Pliny — Fire  in  these  two  lines,  Air  in 
the  two  following,  Water  in  the  next  two,  and  then  Earth.  LI.  5-6  imply 
that  Nature  has  in  her  workshop  a  model  of  the  starry  universe ;  not 
the  reality,  because  the  flames  are  hurtlesse,  Concaue  I  take  to  mean 
no  more  than  *  sphere,'  *  orbit.'  Cf.  *  1651  H.  More  in  Enthus.  Triumph 
(1656)  191  "All  to  the  very  concave  [i.e.  sphere]  of  the  Moon"' 
(N.E.D.). 

9.  mutuall  loynteri  mutual  embrace  or  joining.  It  is  probably 
suggested  by  '  huius  (aeris)  vi  suspensam,  cum  quarto  aquarum  elemento, 
librari  medio  spatio  tellurem.  Ita  muiuo  complexu  diversitatis  effici 
nexum '  in  the  passage  of  Pliny,  ii.  4, 

11.  rundle:  ball  or  globe :  '  imam  atque  mediam  in  toto  esse  terram, 
eandemque  universi  cardine  stare  pendentem,  librantem  per  quae  pendeat,' 
Pliny,  ii.  4. 

P.  243,  29.  Nature  workes  her  will  from  contraries :  probably  from 
Arist.  De  Mundo,  cap.  V  "la  tat  de  koI  t&v  twavTuav  fi  (pvais  yXt;^rrai,  Koi  tK 
TovT<ov  aTTorrXf t  r6  crvfKfxovoPy  ovk  €K  t&p  6ftoi»v  k, r.  X. 

s.  D.  roundelay :  Skeat,  who  quotes  no  instance  earlier  than  the 
Sheph,  Kal.  June  1.  49  (1579),  gives  it  as  from  Fr.  rondelet,  dimin.  of 
rondel,  by  confusion  with  lay,    Rundelayes  again,  1.  222. 

P.  244,  60.  A  merror  of  the  earth :  a  glass  for  humanity  or  a  com- 
bination of  all  that  is  best  in  humanity,  or  perhaps  referring  simply  to  its 
being  compounded  of  all  the  four  elements. 
dispight :  envy  (Fairholt). 

82.  vntyed:  error  for  *tyed'  or  *not  yet  vntyed'  (with  ellipse  of 
•  are '). 


556  NOTES 

P.  245,  95.  Saturn* s  deepe  conceit :   '  conceit '  =  thoughts,  as  abo\-e, 
p.  179  1.  75.    Saturn,  the  oldest,  is  reputed  the  wisest  of  the  gods. 

103.  lunoes  artnesy  Auroraes  hands y  and  louely  Thetis  faoie :  recalJ- 
ing  the  Homeric  epithets  Xfvica>X€yor,  /SododaicrvXoff,  and  dpyvpon-eCa,  apphed 
respectively  to  these  deities. 

113.  t/te  Saint:  frequently  used  for  the  object  of  a  lover*s  devotion ; 
e.g.  EupA.  i.  215  1.  I. 

116.  Parrot  speake  a  while i  'Speaks  the  Parrot?*  was  a  stock 
phrase  (Endim.  v.  3.  219)  for  suggesting  that  a  person's  talk  was  empty 
or  foolish. 

in, /aire  Cynthia  :  Luna  addresses  Pandora  in  mockery,  not  her- 
self. 
P.  246,  135.  signorize :  lord  it. 

138.  s.D.  He  ascends :  i.e.  takes  his  place  in  the  balcony  at  the  back 
above  the  stage,  which  played  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  the  Elizabethan 
drama,  and  in  which  each  of  the  Planets  takes  up  position  in  turn.  Of 
course  the  term  is  also  used  in  the  astrological  sense  of  'being  in  the 
ascendant.' 

152.  For  honors  due,  &c. :  for  the  due  obedience  that  belongs  to  her  will 
163.  Questionest :  The  Cent,  Did,  quotes  '  Duns,  with  all  the  rable 
of  barbarous  questionistes ' — Ascham's  Scholemaster^  ed.  Arbcr,  p.  136. 

P.  247,  169.  Marchants  eareSy  To  beare,  &c.:  i.e.  to  hear  the  wind 
blow,  and  betray  no  anxiety  for  his  vessels.  I  know  no  parallel  for  this 
very  poetical  expression  for  patience  and  self-controL 

174.  grudge;  murmur,  repine.  ME.  grochen^ grucchen.  Again  iii. 
1.47. 

178.  for  waking  her :  *  for  fear  of  waking  her,'  a  use  of  *  for '  tolerably 
common  in  the  Elizabethan  poets,  e.  g.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  though 
Schmidt  quotes  only  five  instances  of  it  in  Shakespeare,  e.  g.  Sonnet  52. 4 
*the  which  (treasure)  he  will  not  every  hour  survey.  For  blunting  the 
fine  point  of  seldom  pleasure.'  Cf.  M,  Bomb,  i.  3.  47  Mies  with  his 
mother  for  catching  cold.' 

P.  248,  205.  sollemne  daunce :  in  the  classical  sense  of  festival,  or 
annual,  dance. 

217.  sounds:  i. e.  s wounds,  swoons.  Cf.  'almost  sounded/  Eufh, 
i.  218  1.  5. 

222.  Rundelayes :  roundelays.    See  note  on  p.  243,  S.  D. 
P.  248,  1.  A  loue  principiunty  &c. :  I  believe  this  line  is  Lyly's  founded 
on  the  following  opening  of  a  Latin  translation  of  Aratus'  Phoenomena 
bound  in  the  often-mentioned  edition  of  Hyginus,  1578,  p.  204 
'A  loue  principium:  quem  nunquam  mittimus  ipsi 
Infatum :  plena  ver6  louis  omnia  quidem  compita, 
Omnes  ver6  hominum  coetus:  plenum  verb  mare, 
Et  portus.    vbique  autem  loue  indigemus  omnes.' 


THE  WOMAN   IN  THE   MOONE  557 

5.  regiment  I  government. 

14.  Calisto :  the  hunting-companion  of  Artemis,  who  became  pregnant 
by  Zeus,  and  incurred  Artemis*  displeasure.  Hyg.  Poet,  Astr,  ii.  2  (p.  58 
ed.  1578). 

21.  discussei  shake  apart,  dissolve.    Cp.  Skeat,  s.  v. 

23.  s.  D.  [Discovers  himself] :  probably  by  throwing  aside  wrap- 
pings. 

P.  251,  87.  lay  thy  hands  vnder  my  precious  foote :  a  token  of  sub- 
mission, as  in  Taming  of  ShreWy  v.  2.  178. 

96.  Did  sinke :  either  this  is  intrans. '  there  did  sink,'  and  the  preced- 
ing line  parenthetic  (nom.  abs.),  or  else  eyes  in  the  preceding  line  must  be 
taken  as  subj.  of  did  sinke  as  a  causative  verb. 
101.  cursiesi  '  curtsies,' as  often. 
P.  264,  173.  weep  curst  hart  away :  cure  her  shrewishness  by  weeping 
(Fairholt). 

183.  And  why  not  Iphicles^  &c. :  here  for  the  first  time  others  besides 
Pandora  are  affected  by  the  Planet  in  the  ascendant.  This  improvement 
is  maintained  more  or  less  in  the  case  of  the  remaining  Planets,  e.g.  Sol 
influences  Stesias  to  a  ludicrous  solenmity  over  Pandora's  verses,  iii.  i. 
105  sqq. ;  Venus,  iii.  2.  83  sqq.  converts  the  hitherto  respectful  Guno- 
philus  into  a  lover;  and  Mercury  in  iv.  I  makes  all  the  shepherds 
intriguers. 

192.  fay  re  and  far  off^forfeare  of  hurt :  apparently  a  proverb  of  one 
who  maintains  a  cautious  and  civil  distance. 

P.  256,   197.    is  my  mistresse  mankinde :    i.  e.  become  masculine. 
A  coarse  female  was  termed  *  a  mankind  creature.'    Cf.  Wint,  Tale,  ii.  3. 
66,  Leontes  calls  Paulina  *  A  mankind  witch '  (Fairholt). 
204.  of  an  ingratefull  minde :  ^in  the  sense  of  *  from.' 
210.  Wilt  thou  incountery  &c. :  i.e.  oppose  it. 
P.  266.  s.  D.  Enter  Sol  and  take  his  seate :  i.e.  the  entry  is  made,  as 
in  all  the  other  cases,  below  ;  and  he  ascends  to  the  balcony  from  the  stage. 
P.  267,  21.  recure  for  *  cure '  occurs  several  times  in  Endimion, 

24.  misdidtheex  did  amiss  to  thee  (Fairholt). 
48.  our  country  gods :  i.  e.  our  country's  gods. 

50.  Ceres  and  her  sacred  Nymphes :  the  mention  of  these  nymphs, 
who  do  not  figure  in  the  myth  of  Ceres,  is  doubtless  a  reference  to  Lyly's 
play  Loves  Metamorphosis ,  and  as  such  is  important  as  tending  to  estab- 
lish a  later  date  for  this.    Cf.  also  Bisham,  1592,  vol.  i.  476  1.  2. 

53.  demeanei  demeanour.     Lyly  probably  saw  the  word  in  Fiierie 
Queene,  ii.  9.  40  'modest  of  demayne'  (pub.  1590),  though  the  N.  E.  D. 
quotes  instances  in  1450  and  1534. 
P.  258,  55.  his  libertie :  the  possessive  '  its '  is  not  found  before  1598. 

63.  depart :  departure.  Except  in  the  romance  Arthur  and  Merlin, 
c.  1330,  the  word  is  not  found  before  1590  {Fa,  Queene,  iii.  7.  20). 


5S8  NOTES 

eame :  i.  e.  yearn,  in  its  second  sense  of '  grieve,*  the  only  one  that 
Shakespeare  uses,  t,g,JuL  Cues,  ii.  2.  129  (Skeat).  The  earliest  use  is  in 
the  Sheph.  Kalender  (1579),  March,  1.  76 ;  also  Faerie  Queene^  i.  I.  3,  to 
which  instance  the  N.  £.  D.  prefixes  the  date  of  the  second  ^6.,^  159^ 

67.  our  holly  hearbe  Nicotian :  '  the  tobacco  plant ;  so  named  firom 
Jean  Nicot,  Lord  of  Villemaine,  the  French  Ambassador  to  Portugal, 
who  first  brought  it  into  notice  at  the  French  Court  about  1561.  His 
name  was  given  to  the  herb  (its  essential  oil  is  still  termed  mcatine\ 
which  was  entirely  valued  by  him  for  its  curative  virtues ;  indeed,  be 
and  others  thought,  with  Captain  Bobadil,  that  it  was  '*  the  most  sovereign 
and  precious  weed  that  ever  the  earth  tendered  to  the  use  of  man."  The 
"tabaco  of  Trinidada"  is  termed  Sana  Sancta  Indorunty  in  Gerard's 
Herball^  1 597 '  (Fairholt),  Chambers*  Encyc.  attributes  its  introduction 
into  England  to  Sir  John  Hawkins  in  1565,  though  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
encouraged  its  growth  in  1586. 

79.  recorde  our  happines :  i.e.  celebrate  it,  but  with  a  distinct  allusion 
to  the  musical  instrument  the  '  recorder.'  Lyly  uses  it,  Eufih.  ii.  58  L  7 
'recording  theyr  sweete  notes.'  The  Cent,  Diet,  quotes  1590,  Arcadia^ 
bk.  iii,  '  he  recorded  to  her  music . . .  and  with  the  conclusion  of  his 
song,'  &c.  Cf.  Ben  Jonson's  Penates^  *  Sweet  robin,  linnet,  thrush,  |  Re- 
cord from  every  bush.'  Darwin  quotes  it  as  a  bird-catcher's  phrase, 
Descent  o/Man,  i.  53. 

90.  vnacquaintedi  unfamiliar.  Endim,  v.  3.  62  'this  vnacquainted 
and  most  vnnaturall  practise.' 

P.  258,  101.  VtopicB  Stesias^  &c:  *Soluere  amorem'  seems  to  be 
a  phrase  of  Lyl/s  coinage  (cf.  1.  106) :  it  is  not  given  by  Forcellini.  The 
sense  of  the  couplet  will  be  '  So  long  as  the  holy  powers  of  heaven  ordain, 
Stesias  spends  his  love  on  the  Phoenix  of  Utopia.'  He  makes  the  e  in 
Stesias  doubtful. 

P.  260.  Act  ni.  Scene  ii  :  this  is  the  only  Act  in  which  more  than 
one  scene  is  marked,  but  even  here  the  scene  is  really  unbroken,  Sol  still 
occupying  the  balcony  as  in  the  preceding  scene. 

S.  D.   \with  Cupid  and  Joculus'\ :   obviously  sununoned  from  Hor. 

Cartn,  i.  2. 33 

'  Sive  tu  mavis,  Erycina  ridens, 

Quam  locus  circum  volat  et  Cupido.' 

(Hense,  Shakespeare-Jahrbuch^  vii.  246.) 

\Sol  descends] :  I  insert  this  stage-direction  in  conformity  with  the 
procedure  in  the  case  of  the  other  Planets. 

9.  in  her  orient  robe :  this  seems  a  reminiscence  of  Homer's  epithet, 
KpoK6ir€ir\os,  applied  to  Eos  (not  Thetis),  //.  viii.  i,  &c  There  seems  no 
classical  warrant  for  these  two  latter  loves  of  Sol.  Lyly  is  thinking  of  the 
natural  connexion  between  the  sun  and  water  (through  evaporation),  and 
the  sun  and  the  dawn.  In  the  ed.  of  Hyginus'  Fables ^  &c.,  1578,  Ful- 
gentius  {Mythologicon^  ii.  p.  143)  explains  Thetis  'vt  aqua,  id  est  humor.' 


THE  WOMAN   IN   THE   MOONE  559 

17.  Quo  niihi  fortund^  &c. :  Hon  Ep.  i.  5.  12.    The  4®  rtsAs  fortuna 
(abl.  with  utt)^  following  a  gloss  found  in  many  MSS.  of  Horace,  due  (it 
suggested)  to  the  omission  of  the  contraction-mark  over  the  a  (^atfi), 
21.  Tis  not  the  touching  of  a  womans  handy  &c :  this  speech  is 
a  reminiscence  of  the  discussion  in  Euph,  and  his  Eng.  ii.  160  11.  19  sqq. 
P.  261,  54.  HospitiSf  &c. :  the  kind  assistance  of  Professor  Ellis  renders 
my  puzzled  footnote  superfluous.    The  line  which  has  so  constantly 
escaped  me  occurs  after  all  in  Lyly's  favourite  source,  Ov.  Art.  Am,  ii.  360 
*  Hospitis  est  tepido  nocte  recepta  sinu,*  It  was  too  late  to  emend  the  text. 
P.  262,  76.  wondrous :  scanned  as  trisyllable. 

94.  0/ that  condition:  on  that  condition. 
P.  263,  109.  Tantalus  that  feasted,  &c. :  *  Jupiter  Tantalo  concredere 
sua  consilia  solitus  erat,  &  ad  epulum  deorum  admittere,'  Hyg.  Ead.  82. 

P.  264, 163.  Maremaydes  glasse:  Fairholt  refers  to  Loves  Met,  iv.  2. 
p.  322,  where  the  Syren  has  *  a  glasse  in  her  hand  and  a  combe.' 
167-8.       Wilt  thou  for  my  sake  goe  into  yon  groue, 

And  we  will  si^g  vnto  the  wilde  birdes  notes ,  &c. 
It  is  impossible  not  to  recall  the  song  in  As  You  Like  It^  Under  the  green- 
wood tree,*  with  the  lines  *  And  turn  his  merry  note  Unto  the  sweet  bird's 
throat.' 

P.  265, 186.  the  Theban  Lord . . .  Hippodcunia :  the  reference  is  to  the 
battle  of  Centaurs  and  Lapithae  begun  by  Eurytus  at  the  marriage-feast 
of  Pirithous  and  Hippodamia,  as  described  Ov.  Met,  xii.  210-244,  though 
I  find  no  authority  for  calling  Eurytus  '  Theban.' 

190.  in  this  caue^  for  ouer  this  they  I e  sitte :  evidently  the  cave  is 
supposed  to  be  underneath  the  stage.  Five  lines  farther  on  Stesias  talks 
of  *  rising  out  of  this  hollow  vault.' 

P.  266, 208.  wonder  not  at  it,  good  people  I :  addressed  to  the  audience. 
So  Cupid  in  soliloquy  addresses  the  audience  with  *  Ladies,'  Gallathea^ 
ii.  2.  13,  where  see  note.     Cf.  S.  D.  in  Maydes  Met.  ii.  i.  p.  354. 

209.  hire  romes  to  lay  in  wine :  i.  e.  in  the  vaults  Pandora's  nails 
have  digged  in  his  face.  I  see  no  cause  for  reading,  as  Fairholt  suggests, 
'  hire  them  as  rooms.' 

213.  comute  :  give  him  horns. 

216.  beware  of  kissing y  bretheren!  \  Gunophilus  parodies  the  Puritan 
preachers  ;  and  the  words  cause  Stesias  in  alarm  to  raise  the  trap-door 
a  little. 

P.  267,  254.  Sic  vos  non  vobis :  from  the  Imes  attributed  to  Virgil  in 
Donatus'  Life,  17,  which  run  as  follows 

'  Hos  ego  versiculos  feci ;   tulit  alter  honores : 
Sic  vos  non  vobis  nidificatis,  aves; 
Sic  vos  non  vobis  vellera  fertis,  oves; 
Sic  vos  non  vobis  mellificatis,  apes; 
Sic  vos  non  vobis  fertis  aratra,  boves.' 


56o  NOTES 

266.  dipt  within  the  ringe :  the  coin  was  not  current  '  if  the  clip- 
ping took  away  the  outer  inscription,  or  encroached  within  the  ring  whidi 
formed  the  boundary  of  the  letters '  (Fairholt).  Cf.  Ham.  ii.  2.  448,  aod 
Mid,  ii.  2.  21  note. 

P.  268,  287.  buskyi  i.e.  *  bosky,*  woody.  It  occurs  in  the  old  eds.  of 
I  Henry  IVy  v.  i.  2. 

P.  269,  301.  made  a  stale :  properly  a  decoy,  an  imitated  or  a  real  bird 
by  which  another  bird  is  caught,  from  AS.  statu,  theft :  then  of  any  one 
deceived  or  made  a  joke  of. 

320.  Hollow/  hollow ! :  i.  e.  hallo !  hallo ! 
P.  271,  28.  Ccetera  quis  nescit  f :  Ov.  Am,  i.  5.  25.  Cf.  Euph.  ii.  83  L  12. 

38.  Apolloes  tree :  L  e.  Daphne. 
P.  272,  67.  Which  may  be  venom :  *  may  which  be,*  *  and  may  they  be,' 
&c. — a  wish. 

73.  faisor :  cheat.    *  The  falsers  fraude,'  Sheph,  Kal,  Epil. 

74.  infestious :  injurious,  dangerous.    Cp.  N.  E.  D.,  s.  v. 

80.  when  he  cotnes,  &c. :  i.  e.  Stesias  on  his  recovery  will  inquire 
about  the  kid  missing  from  his  flocks. 

89.  Gun,  {aside)  Looke  how  she  winkes :  addressed  to  the  audience, 
as  above  *  good  people,'  iii.  2.  208  (where  see  note). 
P.  274,  135.  Oscula,  &c. :  Ov.  Her.  Ep.  xvii.  27,  28. 
145.  leefesti  dearest. 

157.  mate  I  checkmate,  confound.  'My  mind  she  has  mated,  and 
amazed  my  sight,'  Macb,  v.  1. 86.  Skeat  derives  it  from  Arabic  root  rndta, 
*  he  died.'    OF.  mat, 

165.  Enipeus :  Lyly  transfers  to  his  Utopia  the  Thessallan  river 
mentioned  in  Ovid,  Hyginus,  &c. 

P.  277,  248.  When  will  the  sun,  &c. :  this  and  the  following  six  lines 
remind  one  strongly  of  Juliet's  'Gallop  apace,'  &c.~iii.  2.  i  sqq.,  the  first 
four  lines  of  which  passage  are  found  in  the  first  Quarto  oi  Rom,  Sfjul, 
1 597.  I  incline  to  think  Shakespeare  the  borrower. 
267.  So  will  not  I:  i.  e.  deceive  you. 
P.  278,  268.  Jewels  and  his  pearles :  thieving  being  one  of  the  effects 
of  Mercury's  predominance. 

282.  Comes facetus,  &c. :  Publ.  Syrus,  SetUentiae,  85  *  Comes  fJEunindus 
in  via  pro  vehiculo  est '  (Harbottle). 

290-1.  heauen  .  .  ,  fall  .  .  •  haue  Larkesi  'When  the  skie  felth 
we  shall  have  Larkes '  is  in  Heywood's  Proverbes,  i.  ch.  4.  Compare 
Rabelais'  Gargantua, ch.  11  'Si  les  nues  tumboyent,  esperoyt  prendre  les 
alouettes  toutes  rousties '  (Bartlett). 

292.  This  is  Enipeus  banke,  here  she  should  be :  i.  e. '  here  Iphides 
expects  her  to  be.'    Stesias  alludes  to  the  appointment  Pandora  made 
with  Iphicles,  iv.  1. 165,  Lyly  attributing  to  Stesias  a  knowledge  possessed 
in  reality  only  by  the  audience.    See  under  Place  and  Time,  p.  237. 
298.  Whcd,  is  it  midnight f\  i.e.  really,  he  is  before  his  time. 


THE  WOMAN   IN  THE  MOONE  561 

P.  279,  306.  Away  from  my  groue  . . .  warning:  alluding  to  his  pre- 
vious cudgelling  and  words,  iv.  i.  237-43. 

s.  D.  Enter  Luna :  Mercury's  descent  and  exit  is  supposed  to  have 
occurred  in  the  interval  between  the  Acts. 

2.  erring  starres\  wandering  stars,  planets.  Cynthia  is  'lowest* 
because  her  sphere  immediately  adjoins  the  Earth. 

10.  almost  at  the  sea  side :  evidently  this  elopement  with  Gunophilus 
is  one  with  that  begun  in  Act  iv.  11.  268-92,  though  they  have  made  some 
progress  towards  the  coast :  i.e.  strictly,  in  spite  of  the  balcony,  the  scene 
is  changed,  though  this  is  not  the  abrupt  transfer  of  iv.  I.  292  and  else- 
where.   See  pp.  237-8. 

P.  280, 21.  Ouer  the  chayne^  lacke!  &c. :  cf.  Pappe^  p.  412  1.  12  *  like  an 
olde  Ape  hugges  the  Vrchin  so  in  his  conceipt,  as  though  it  should  shew  vs 
some  new  tricks  ouer  the  chaine.'  Fairholt  quotes  Jonson's  Bartholomew 
Faire  *  a  juggler  with  a  well-educated  ape  to  come  over  the  chaine  for  the 
King  of  England,  and  back  again  for  the  Prince,  and  sit  still  on  his 
haunches  for  the  Pope  and  the  King  of  Spain.'  Marston's  Scourge 
of  Villaniey  sat.  ix,  addresses  an  *  apish*  person  as  *01d  Jack  of  Paris- 
garden.* 

23.  sweares  by  his  ten  bones :  i.e.  the  fingers.  Fairholt  cites  it  as  an 
oath  used  by  Peter- in  2  Henry  VI^  i.  3.  From  this  passage  it  appears  to 
have  been  associated  with  apes,  as  again  in  Pafipe^  p.  406  1.  6  '  Martin 
sweares  by  his  ten  bones :  nay,  I  will  make  him  mumpe,  mow,  and  chatter 
like  old  lohn  of  Paris  garden  before  I  leaue  him.' 

24.  Did  I  not  tell  you  I  should  haue  Larkes :  addressed  to  the 
audience,  and  referring  to  his  words  on  his  exit  in  the  preceding  Act| 
1.  291. 

40.  Node  latent  menda :  Ov.  Ars  Am,  i.  249,  but  Lyly  remembered 
it  as  quoted  in  his  namesake's  Granmiar  under  the  head  of  Ablative  of 
Time — A  Shorte  Introduction^  &c,  I.  vii.  5. 

45.  Lucretia  toto  Sis,  &c. :  Martial,  Epigr,  xi.  104 : 
'Si  te  delectat  gravitas,  Lucretia  toto 
Sis  licet  usque  die ;  Laida  nocte  volo.' 
But  the  old  editions  of  Martial  read,  as  Lyly, '  Thaida.' 

P.  281,  56.  Belikel  was  a  spirit  all  this  while'.  Gunophilus' suggested 
explanation  of  her  not  seeing  him  '  till  now,'  1.  54. 

80.  Shall  I  make  them  cracke  ?  &c. :  Fairholt  suggests  this  as  lovers' 
play,  a  mode  of  divination  by  the  cracking  or  not  cracking  of  the  joints, 
like  Margaret's  pulling  of  the  flower-petals  in  Faust. 

89.  a  whiting  moppe:  a  young  whiting.  Again  in  Fletcher  and 
Rowley's  Maid  in  the  Mill,  ii.  i. 

P.  282, 101.  a  pible  stone:  i.e.  a  pebble.  So  Gall.  i.  i.  13  *  a  heape 
of  small  pyblc.' 

104-9.  He  giue  thee  streames,  &c :  it  has  been  suggested  to  me 

BONO  III  O   O 


562  NOTES 

that  these  imaginative  lines  are  imitative  of  Marlowe ;  but  Lyiy  has 
always  been  a  coiner  of  picturesque  marvels. 

106.  Musk  fly es :  a  purely  imaginary  kind. 

115.  absolute \  faultless,  perfect;  'an  absolute  courtier/  Merry 
Wives ^  iii.  3.  66. 

119.  O  Marce  fili^  &c. :  these  words,  untranslatable  as  they  stand, 
form  the  opening  of  Cic.  De  Offic,  i.  i  '  Quanquam  te»  Marce  fili,  annum 
iam  audientem  Cratippum,  idque  Athenis,  abundare  oportet  praeceptis 
institutisque  philosophiae,'  &c. 

120.  a  breaching  boies ;  Fairholt  explains  as  a  boy  of  age  for  breech- 
ing, i.e.  of  12  or  14  years.  Schmidt,  Shaks,  Lex,  explains  '  no  breeching 
scholar,'  Taming^  iii.  i.  18,  as  *no  schoolboy  liable  to  a  flogging.'  The 
verb  '  to  breech '  is  used  in  both  senses. 

P.  283, 145,  Yours,  as  his  owne,  G. :  parodying  letter- signatures,  e.g. 
Uhine  to  vse  more  then  his  owne,  Philautus,'  ii.  144,  and  152,  154,  222. 

152.  Thai  she  hath  made  her  to  obscure  her  selfex  that  she  hath 
darkened  her  own  beauty  by  creating  Pandora. 

P.  284,  164.  vcddx   bent,  lowered.    *To  vale'  or  *vair  is  from  Fr. 
avaier,  fr.  Lat.  advalletn,     Cf.  Merch,  ofVen,  i.  i.  28  *  Vailing  her  high 
top  lower  than  her  ribbes.'    Again  End,  iii.  3.  83,  Euph,  i.  255  L  37. 
168.  cdone :  either  *  only,*  or  *  more  than  all.' 

193.  hediockesi  (i  ==  j)  given  in  the  N.  E.  D,  as  a  l6th  cent,  form  of 
'hedgehogs'  (though  no  instance  is  quoted);  hedgehock  is  a  17th  cent 
form.    In  Euph,  and  his  Eng,  ii.  139  1.  12,  we  get  *  Hcdgehogge.' 

194.  let  me  see  thy  hand,  &c. :  allusion  to  palmistry,  whereby  the 
influence  of  planets  was  traced  in  the  hand.  Fairholt  refers  to  M.  Bcmh, 
ii.  3  p.  97,  where  Candius  professes  to  read  Silena's  hand. 

P.  285,  219.  Willing  me  to  deny  the  wordes  I  spoke  \  'persuading  me 
to  tell  you  that  I  lied  in  accusing  her  of  falseness  to  yourself.'  So  below, 
Iphicles  L  231 — 'promised  to  deny  my  wordes.' 

P.  287,  272.  Vanish  into  a  Haythome :  i.  e,  a  hawthorn.  Accordingly 
at  the  stage-direction  *  Exit  Gunophilus*  just  below,  a  bush  is  thrust  forth 
upon  the  stage  behind  which  Gunophilus  retires :  the  bush  remains,  for 
Stesias  below,  1.  317,  threatens  to  'rend'  it.  Compare  the  restoration 
of  Bagoa  from  an  aspen-tree  in  Endimion,  v.  3.  277  (note). 

274-81.  place  Pandora  in  my  sphere,  &c. :  cf.  Funeral  Oration, 
vol.  i.  p.  512  1.  I  '  Petrarch  knew  not  in  what  Sphere  of  Planets  to  lodge 
his  Lawra.' 

280.  forsake  Aglauros  loue :  LyIy  is  thinking  of  Ov.  Met,  ii.  710  sqq. 
(spelt '  Agraulos '  in  Apollodorus  and  Pausanias)  where,  however,  Herse  is 
the  real  object  of  Hermes'  passion,  which  her  sister  Aglauros  opposes. 

283.  stay  in  the  woods,  Or  keepe  with  Pluto :  as  Diana,  or  Hecate. 

290.  two  Parramours, , . .  Thetis  . . .  mome ;  as  above,  iii.  a.  9,  where 
see  note. 


THE  WOMAN   IN  THE   MOONE  563 

P.  288,  318.  beare  this  hush :  *  This  transformation  of  Stesias  to  the 
Man  in  the  Moon,  and  Gunophilus  to  the  thombush  on  his  back,  is  an 
ingenious  variation  of  a  popular  fable,  which,  says  Grimm,  declared  this 
man  either  to  be  Isaac  carrying  sticks  for  his  own  sacrifice;  Cain, 
bearing  the  bundle  of  thorns  unworthily  sacrificed  by  him  to  the  Deity  ; 
or  the  unfortunate  man  who  gathered  sticks  on  the  Sabbath*day,  and  was 
stoned  by  the  Jews,  as  related  in  the  Book  of  Numbers,  chap.  xv.  32-36. 
Ritson,  in  his  Ancient  Songs  of  England^  has  printed  a  curious  song  upon 
this  popular  personage,  composed  in  the  early  part  of  the  fourteenth 
centur)'.  Shakespeare  has  introduced  the  character  in  the  clowns'  masque 
at  the  end  of  his  Mids,  Nighfs  Dream :  and  Halliwell,  in  his  folio  edition 
of  the  poet's  works,  has  brought  together  a  large  mass  of  curious  informa- 
tion on  this  fable  '  (Fairholt). 

320.  steede :  stead,  place. 

329.  aspects  . . .  coniunction :  *  aspects  *  of  planets  are  their  relative 
position  (astrologically)  as  seen  from  the  Earth :  *  coniunction '  is  their 
proximity  from  the  same  point  of  view. 


LOVES   METAMORPHOSIS. 

P.  800.  Dram.  Peks.  :  the  name  Montanus  is  borrowed  by  Lodge  in 
RosalyndCy  and  Celia  by  Shakespeare  in  As  You  Like  It,  where  also  Sil- 
vestris  becomes  Silvius,  and  Erisichthon  suggests  Corin's  '  master ...  of 
churlish  disposition/  ii.  4.  80.  Ceres  is  introduced  with  nymphs  again  in 
the  Bisham  Ent,  1 592,  vol.  i.  476  1.  2. 

P.  801,  1.  faifCd , . .  that  Laue  sat  vpon  the  Chaos,  &c. ;  Lyly  is 
probably  recalling  Arist.  Metaphys,  i.  4,  where  this  opinion  is  attributed 
to  Parmenides  and  Hesiod ;  and  from  the  former  is  quoted 

YTpcoriOTov  iJi€V  tpcara  6€a>v  fArjriaaTO  navrtay 

and  from  the  latter 

ndpTtiv  fiiv  npcrriara  x^^^  y*^^'^*9  airrcip  ^miTu 
yaV  €VpvaT€ppos, 

^d'  €pof,  6r  irdyrecirf  ficroYrpcircf  dBaydToiaiVf 
an  imperfect  version  of  Theog,  116  sqq. 

10.  begot  by  the  fraile  fires  of  the  eye:  Fairholt  quotes  the  song  in 
The  Merchant  of  Ven.  iii.  2  *  It  is  engendered  in  the  eyes,  With  gazing 
fed,'    The  sentiment  occurs  in  Euphues,  e.g.  ii.  59  1.  13  *  Loue  commeth 
in  at  the  eye,  not  at  the  eare,*  &c. 
P.  302,  31.  Penelopen  ipsam,  &c, :  Ov.  Art.  Am,  i.  477. 
33.  Fructus  abest,  &c. :  Ov.  Art,  Am.  iii.  398. 
38.  Riualem  patienter  hate :  Ov.  Art,  Am,  ii.  539. 
4.  SalamintSy  &c. :  no  such  name  in  Whitney,  nor  in  Cotgrave,  nor 
Halliwell;  probably  Lyly*s  invention,  founded  on  what  Pliny  says, xxi.  21, 

002 


564  NOTES 

of  the  '  polion  herbam  . ,  .  folia  eius  mane  Candida,  meridie  purporea, 
Sole  occidente  caerulea  aspiciuntur.*  Cf.  *Polyon,'  Saph.  vu  i,  90, 
note. 

10.  Cypres  leaues  . .  .  beareth  the  least  fruit :  Pliny,  xvL  60  *  Cu- 
pressus  .  .  .  natu  morosa,  fructu  supervacua,'  &c,  Cf.  Euph.  i,  202  L  12 
*  Cypresse .  . .  beareth  no  fruite.* 

P.  808,  19.  wake-Robin  :  '  The  old  English  name  for  the  Arum  maat- 
latum,  or  cuckoo-pint  *  (Fairholt). 

21.  telling . . .  tale  of  hunting . . .  passion  ofloue :  compare  the  Nea- 
politan prince  {Merchant^  i.  2.  38),  who,  as  Portia's  suitor,  Moth  nothing 
but  talk  of  his  horse.' 

24.  hearts  . . .  Harts  :  the  pun  occurs  again  Moth.  Bomb.  iv.  i.  33. 

30.  fond  Hobbie :  foolish  hawk. 

31.  Buntings',  popular  name  for  several  kinds  of  little  birds  of  the 
Emberiza  genus,  of  which  the  corn-bunting  {Emberiza  miliaria)  is  one, 
and  the  yellow  bunting  or  yellow-hammer  (Emberiza  citrinella)  another. 
Nisa  means  that  foresters  think  all  birds  alike,  or  all  fair  game.  Schmidt 
quotes  AlPs  IVell,  ii.  5.  7  *  I  took  this  lark  for  a  bunting.' 

40.  throwe  one  off .  .  .  whole  hand  . . .  pull  him  againe  .  .  .  Utile 
finger  \  cf.  Euph,  ii.  75  1.  23. 

42.  if  they  censure  . .  .frowardi  cf.  Euph,  i.  249  1.  12  *  Peruersly  do 
they  alwayes  thinck  of  their  louers,'  &c.,  and  253  11.  36  sqq. 

44.  Cedit  amor  rebus y  &c. :  Ov.  Rem,  Am,  144. 

46.  Sat  mihi  sifacies,  &c. :  probably  an  adaptation  of  Ov.  Her,  xvii. 
38  '  Aut  mea  sit  facies  non  bene  nota  mihi.'  I  cannot  find  the  exact  line 
in  HeroideSy  A  mores,  or  Ars  Amatoria, 

50.  Victoria  tecum  stabiti  Ov.  Art,  Am,  ii.  539  *  Rivalem  patienter 
habe  :  victoria  tecum  |  Stabit'  Niobe  replies  to  her  lover  by  completing 
the  line,  the  first  part  of  which  he  had  written  for  her,  i.  i.  38. 

P.  304, 56.  Prcecibus  , , ,  addet :  Ov.  Met,  ii.  397,  where  the  true  reading 
is  '  addit: 

57.  Cantant  et  saltant :  the  song  is  lost. 

61.  giglots:  wantons.  Skeat  suggests  *a  base  ^]f  applied  to  rapid 
motion,  and  thence  to  light  behaviour.' 

63.  drew  yron  like  Adamants  :  Pliny,  xx.  i  *  ferrum  ad  se  trahente 
magnete  lapide,'  and  Euph,  i.  321  1.  2,  ii.  11 1  1.  35. 

65.  Thessalides :  no  such  name  in  Diet.  Class,  Biog.  The  point  of 
Erisichthon's  invective  being,  not  oratory,  but  wanton  arts,  I  suggest  that 
this  is  one  of  the  numerous  instances  of  mistakes  arising  from  setting  up 
type  from  an  ig^norant  oral  reading  of  Lyly's  MS.,  and  that  what  he 
really  wrote  was  *  Messalina's  *  or  *  Messaline's.' 

67.  vnkembd:  uncombed,  unkempt.    Cp.  Skeat  s.  v. 

75.  addicted  to  Ceres :  vowed  to,  given  up  to— a  Latinism ;  cf. 
Hor.  Ep,  i.  I.  14  'NuUius  addictus  iurare  in  verba  magistri.'    Skeat 


LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS  565 

quotes  an  instance  from  Grafton's  Chronicles,  Henry  VII.  an.  4  (R),  and 
Whitney  from  Ben  Jonson's  Cynthias  Revels^  iv.  3  *  Yours  entirely 
addicted,  Madam.' 

79.  pieuish  :  foolish,  as  M,  Bomb,  i.  3.  90,  and  repeatedly. 
86.  the  treepowreth  out  bloud,  andlheare  a  voice :  see  under  Sources, 
p.  293. 

P.  805,  101.  Cinyras  .  .  .  Mirrha^  &c. :  Ov.  Met.  x.  300-500.  *  Mi- 
retia^  in  4®  is  merely  the  compositor's  misreading  of  Lyly's  MS.  In 
regard  to  Daphne  and  Myrrha  see  Sources,  pp.  293-4. 

P.  806,  145.  vnacquainted  \  unheard  of,  as  in  GcdL  iii.  4.  58 ;  Endim, 
V.  3.  62 ;  Saph,  ii.  4.  i. 

10.  on  yonder  hill .  . .  lyeth  famine ^  &c. :  for  this  powerful  allegorical 
description  Lyly  is  entirely  indebted  to  Ovid,  Met,  viii.  784-810.    Spenser 
has  no  specific  description  of  Famine.    It  is  perhaps  worth  while  to  quote 
the  preceding  English  verses  on  the  subject  from  SackviUe's  Induc- 
tion^ pub.  in  the  second  ed.  (1563)  of  The  Mirrour  for  Magistrates^ 
stt.  50-5 a-r indebted,  doubtless,  to  Ovid's  description  of  Erisichthon : 
*A  grisly  shape  of  Famine  might  we  see. 
With  greedy  looks,  and  gaping  mouth,  that  cried 
And  roar'd  for  meat,  as  she  should  there  have  died ; 
Her  body  thin,  and  bare  as  any  bone, 
Whereto  was  left  nought  but  the  case  alone. 
And  that,  alas,  was  gnawn-on  every  where. 
All  full  of  holes,  that  I  ne  might  refrain 
From  tears,  to  see  how  she  her  arms  could  tear. 
And  with  her  teeth  gnash  on  the  bones  in  vain, 
W^hen,  all  for  nought,  she  fain  would  so  sustain 
Her  starven  corpse,  that  rather  seem'd  a  shade, 
Than  any  substance  of  a  creature  made. 
Great  was  her  force,  whom  stone  wall  could  not  stay, 
Her  tearing  nails  snatching  at  all  she  saw ; 
With  gaping  jaws,  that  by  no  means  ymay 
Be  satisfied  from  hunger  of  her  maw, 
But  eats  herself  as  she  that  hath  no  law: 
Gnawing,  alas,  her  carcass  all  in  vain, 
Where  you  may  count  each  sinew,  bone,  and  vein.' 

(Library  of  Old  Authors^ Sackville  (1859),  pp.  113-4.) 
P.  807,  24.  cu  liuely :  as  like  life,  as  exactly. 

38.  they  that  thinke  it  straunge  , . .  virginitie :  this  remark,  and  the 
tone  of  Ceres  towards  Cupid  generally,  is  in  marked  contrast  to  the  fierce 
virginity  of  Diana  in  Gallathea  (iii.  4. 16  sqq.),  where  the  attitude  of  Ceres 
and  her  nymphs,  respectively,  is  exactly  reversed.  The  change  is  con- 
sidered by  Mdzi^res  {Pridecesseurs  et  Contemporains  de  Shakespeare 
(1863),  ch.  3  p.  71)  as  significant  of  an  increased  tenderness  in  Elizabeth 


566  NOTES 

for  Leicester.    He  places  the  play  as  probably  one  of  LyJy*s  latest  works, 
but  perhaps  forgets  that  Leicester  died  Sept.  4,  1588. 

50  sqq.  Nisa's  expos^  of  poetic  fictions  is  suggested  by  WatsoD*s 
Hecaiotnpathia,  19. 

P.  808,  76.  Dianas  Nympkes^  &c. :  a  reference,  as  Fleay  has  pointed 
out,  to  Gallathea^  ii.  2  and  iii.  i. 

79. .  This  is  the  temple :  some  fiN^  lines  back  Ceres  said,  *•  Well,  let 
vs  to  Cupid.'  That  we  have  here  one  of  the  imaginary  transfers  of  scene 
common  upon  the  early  stage  is  clear  from  a  comparison  of  L  5  of  this 
scene—*  heere  lyeth  the  tree ' — with  iv.  i.  130,  where  the  foresters,  being 
before  Cupid's  temple  and  deciding  to  seek  the  nymphs,  say,  '  certainely 
wee  shall  find  them  about  Ceres  tree,  singing  or  sacrifizing,'  which  they 
would  not  say  if  tree  and  temple  were  supposed  as  occupying  the  stage 
at  once.    See  Essay,  voL  ii.  p.  269. 

P.  309, 109.  idlenesse :  cf.  Ov.  Rem.  Amor.  139  '  Otia  si  tollas,  periere 
Cupidinis  arcus.' 

P.  912,  80.  Polypus^  &c. :  Pliny,  ix.  46  '  Colorem  mutat  ad  similito- 
dinem  loci.'    Cf.  Euph.  i.  219  1.  8. 

P.  313,  116.  consent:  (or  concent),  Lat.  concentus^  harmony. 

122.  no  base  strings  &c. :  this  series  of  musical  puns,  '  base,*  '  meane/ 

*  treble,'  are  repeated  from  Gall,  v.  3.  187-93,  as  Fairholt  points  out. 

128.  Salamich :  salamander. 

S.  D.  Cantant :  the  song  is  lost. 
P.  314,  140.  met  withalli  a  current  phrase  for  *  finding  your  match,' or 
being  *  made  to  pay  for  it.'    Cf.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  King  and  No 
King,  ii.  2,  where  the  Citizen's  Wife  answers  the  impudent  shopman  with 

*  Well,  stripling,  I  shall  meet  with  you ' ;  and  Night-  Walker y  i.  i,  Lurcher, 
of  Algripe  who  has  injured  him,  '  1  may  meet  with  him  |  Yet,  ere  I  die.' 

152.  whether  all  those  that  loue  Niobe  do  like :  i.  e.  hang  themselves. 
There  is  no  need  to  alter  the  text,  as  Fairholt  suggests,  though  '  do  the 
like '  would  have  been  clearer. 

164.  —scilicet :  this  word  is  not  part  of  the  quotation  from  Ov.  Art. 
Am.  ii.  539,  but  Silvestris'  comment  thereon. 

165.  posies:  mottoes. .  Fairholt  refers  to  Camp.  iv.  3.  14  *  posies  of 
loue  in  their  ringes.' 

P.  315, 12.  race :  erase. 

P.  316,  41.  Gentleman  f  I  Lyly  here  turns  to  excellent  characteristic 
account  Ovid's  three  words  *  Dominum  generosa  recusal.'  See  on  Sources, 
p.  292. 

4  4.  Your  conditions  brought  in  your  obligations :  *  A  satirical  aUusion 
to  the  wording  of  old  bonds,  which  began  with  "  The  condition  of  this 
obligation,"  &c'  (Fairholt). 

P.  317,  70.  know  their  good  as  well  as  Gentlemen :  *  to  know  one's 
good'  appears  to  be  a  phrase  for  courteous  behaviour.     In  Eupkues, 


LOVES  METAMORPHOSIS  567 

ii.  161  I.  29,  the  hero's  gentle  answer  to  Camilla's  reproach  is  prefaced  by 
'  Euphues  as  one  that  knewe  his  good,  aunswered  hir  in  this  wise.' 

16.  and  so  did  Iphisi  not  the  Iphis  of  Ovid,  Melt,  ix.  665-795,  but 
he  of  Met,  xiv.  698-738,  who  hung  himself  in  despair  of  Anaxarete's  love. 
Cf.  Euph,  ii.  112  1.  37,  and  Poems,  p.  466  U.  30-2,  m  both  of  which  the 
instances  of  Hercules  and  Iphis  are  found,  as  here,  together. 

21.  Swans  and  Turtles  . .  .  truth  and  iealousie  :  the  turtle-dove  has 
several  times  been  adduced  as  an  instance  of  truth,  e.  g.  M.  Bomb,  i.  3. 
121.  The  *  iealousie  *  of  swans  seems  a  derivative  from  their  well-known 
ferocity.    They  are  said  to  pair  for  life. 

P.  318,  52.  sauours  are  not  found  of  loturs :  i.  e.  not  noticed  by.  The 
allusion,  which  apparently  did  not  offend  Elizabethan  taste,  becomes  dear 
by  a  reference  to  Shakespeare's  130th  Sonnet,  line  8.  Fairholt  stupidly 
corrupts  *  found  of  to  *fond  of.* 

P.  319,  89.  Bird  that  liueth  only  by  ayre,  &c. :  this  feeding  on  air  and 
living  only  in  the  air  was  in  accord  with  the  current  belief  about  birds  of 
Paradise,  which  had  been  recently  discovered  by  the  Dutch  in  their 
voyages  to  New  Guinea— the  fact  being  that  the  natives  who  sold  the  skins 
used  to  deprive  them  of  feet  and  wings  (Encyclop,  Brit,  iii.  778). 

99.  to  blast :  used  intransitively  also  Two  Gent,  i.  I  '  blasting  in  the 
bud,  I  Losing  his  verdure,'  &c.  (Whitney). 

P.  320,  103.  in  the  morning  weare  , , .  at  night , , .  heeles :  repeated 
from  Euph,  Add.  to  Gent  Readers,  i.  182  11.  12-3. 

109.  a  thicke  mist  which  Proserpine  shall  send'.  Proserpine  is  chosen 
as  the  goddess  of  the  world  below  whence  the  mist  is  to  rise ;  and  also 
perhaps  as  the  carrier  into  effect  of  human  curses  (Horn.  Od,  x.  494,  xi.  226, 
//.  ix.  457,  &c.),  also  because  she  and  Ceres  are  brought  into  Hyginus  (Fable 
cxli  dealing  with  the  Sirens).  The  mist  is  of  course  the  suggested  stage- 
contrivance  by  which  the  transformation  is  to  be  effected  (cf.  the  appeal 
to  Venus,  v.  4.  34,  to  send  down  a  shower,  when  the  nymphs  are  to  be 
re-transformed) ;  and,  since  we  are  nowhere  made  witnesses  of  the  trans- 
formation, the  mention  of  it  may  point  to  the  subsequent  excision  of  a 
later  scene  in  the  same  Act,  in  which,  originally,  it  occurred. 

117.  let  your  othes  be  without  number;  some  of  these  precepts  are 
repeated  from  Sybilla's  advice  to  Phao  in  Sapho,  ii.  4.  j6  sqq. 

130.  wee  shall  find  them  about  Ceres  tree :  since,  however,  the  rock, 
rose,  and  bird  to  which  they  are  transformed  are  obviously  present  in  the 
last  scene,  v.  4  (and  cf.  v.  2.  24-5),  which  is  laid  before  Cupid's  Temple, 
we  have  to  suppose  the  transformation  as  taking  place  n6ar  the  latter, 
on  some  visit  of  the  nymphs  to  the  shrine. 

134.  let  all  Ladies  beware,  &c :  this  warning,  including  the  words 
about  the  crow's-foot  and  the  black  ox,  is  repeated  from  Euph,  i.  203 
11.  6-7.  Fairholt  notes  these  same  two  expressions  for  advancing  age  in 
Saph,  iv.  2.  20-1. 


S68  NOTES 

P.  821, 18.  vnfortunate  shore :  because  rocky.  See  below,  L  75  and 
p.  295. 

27.  remoued :  softened.  In  reply  to  '  hates '  of  the  Syren's  preceding 
speech. 

29.  by  whose  subtilties  I  can  halfe  fish^  half e  fleshy  &c. :  a  previous 
deception  by  man  forms  no  part  of  the  classical  myth  of  the  Sirens,  who 
were  made  like  birds  and  condemned  to  their  alluring  part  by  Ceres  for 
not  assisting  Proserpine  (Hyg.  Fab,  141).  Lyly  unites  with  the  classical 
myth  of  the  Sirens  the  Teutonic  and  Northern  superstition  of  the  mer- 
maid, with  her  fish-tail  (found  also  in  later  representations  of  the  Sirens), 
long  hair,  and  the  glass  and  comb  in  her  hand ;  and,  further,  her  state- 
ment that  she  has  been  reduced  to  her  present  position  by  meDs* 
'subtilties'  shows  that  she  is  intended  as  allegorical  of  a  courtesan. 
Cf.  Euph,  i.  189  L  28,  255  11.  8-13.  In  the  fVoman,  ii.  2.  163*  Iphides 
alludes  to  '  Maremaydes  glasse.' 

P.  322,  S.  D.  [Exit  into  structure  at  back].  I  supply  the  stage-direc- 
tions  here  and  below,  1.  96,  some  cover  being  required  for  the  assumption 
and  the  laying  aside  of  her  disguise  as  Ulysses. 

P.  823,  66.  dottrel/ :  the  bird  called  by  this  name  was  a  proverb  for 
foolishness,  because  it  was  supposed  to  invite  capture.  The  name,  like 
*  dotard,'  is  der.  of  *  dote.' 

72.  measureth  the  hot  assault^  &c. :  Euphues,  i.  192  L  36,  uses  precisely 
the  same  words  to  the  aged  Eubulus. 

74.  Apes^who  kill  by  culling  \  Euph,  n.  $1.4.  To  *  cull,' or  *  embrace/ 
is  obsol.  variant  of  coll,  prob.  from  Fr.  coler^accoler,  to  put  the  arms 
round  the  neck  (col). 

P.  324,  s.  D.  TiRTENA  :  announced  in  the  list  of  characters  who  take 
part  in  the  scene,  yet  with  no  speech  allotted  her.  Perhaps  it  points  to 
more  excision. 

6.  Sic  volo,  sic  iubeo :  this  proverbial  form  of  authoritative  assent  is 
from  Juvenal,  vi.  222  '  Hoc  volo,  sic  iubeo,  sit  pro  ratione  voluntas,'  in 
allusion  to  the  question  '  Velitis  Ivbeatis  *  at  the  head  of  a  bill  proposed 
to  the  Roman  comitia  tributa. 

QucB  venit  ex  merito,  &c. :  reversing  Ov.  Her.  (Oenone  Paridi)  v.  7 
'  Leniter  ex  merito  quicquid  patiare,  ferendum  est.  Quae  venit  indignae 
poena,  dolenda  venit.' 

13.  cmd  to  bee  more  terrified,  &c. :  i.  e.  and  maketh  Jove  to  be  more 
terrified,  &c. 

18.  Diaha  hath  felt  .  .  .  loue,  Vesta  doth :  the  allusion  to  Diana 
can  only  be  supported  by  Cynthia's  kiss  of  Endimion.  Cf.  Endim. 
ii.  I.  82,  where  Vesta  is  also  urged  as  an  instance  that  virgins  may  be 
conquered.  Lyly  is  probably  adapting  those  supposed  instances  of  frailty 
in  the  Vestal  virgins,  cited  Euph.  ii.  209,  to  the  goddess  herselL  But 
cf.  Euph.  ii.  150  1.  13. 


LOVES   METAMORPHOSIS  569 

P.  825,  46.  Sine  Cerere,  &c. :  this  Latin  proverb  is  quoted  by  Terence 
Eun,  iv.  5.  6,  Cic.  Nat.  De,  ii.  23.  60,  and  by  Lyly  before  in  Af,  Bomb,  ii. 
5.  51. 

48.  Oita  si  toUas^  &c. :  Ov.  Rem,  Am,  139. 
P.  326,  4.  stoutnesse :  stubbornness.    Etid.  iv.  i.  23. 

10.  Molle  meum^  &c. :    Ov.  Her,  xv.  79  with  omission  of  que^  thus 
lengthening  cor,     Lyly  has  made  use  of  it  before,  M,  Bomb,  iv.  i.  32. 
13.  Omnia  vincit  amor,  &c. :  Virg.  Ed.  x.  69. 
22.  I  did  ihis^  &c:  Petulius  is  perhaps  excusing  his  affair  with  the 
Syren,  while  Protea*s  answer  refers  to  hers  with  Neptune. 
24.  deserts :  deserters,  defaulters. 

29.  A  /aire  warnings  &c. :  this  banter  of  two  assured  lovers  possibly 
suggested  that  of  Lorenzo  and  Jessica,  Merchant  of  Ven,  iii.  5.  80  sqq. 

P.  327,  5.  ready  at  receipt :  Ceres  uses  a  hunting-term  appropriate  to 
the  Foresters.  *  To  stand  at  receipt '  was  to  await  game  driven  towards 
the  hunter  by  beaters.     Cf.  Euph,  ii.  178  1.  32  note. 

P.  328,  34.  send  dawne  thai  showre :  some  stage-device,  the  drawing 
of  a  semi-transparent  curtain,  or  perhaps  a  thick  shower  of  torn  paper,  to 
conceal  the  substitution  of  the  nymphs  for  the  rock,  rose-bush,  and  bird. 
Cf.  the  '  tbicke  mist '  spoken  of  by  Cupid  (iv.  I.  109)  as  accompanying 
their  first  transformation. 

P.  331, 141.  ouerthwartsx  vexing  speeches.  End,  iii.  i.  17  'malepart 
ouerthwarts.' 

153.  Non  custodiri^  &c. :  Ov.  Amor,  iii.  4.  6  '  Nee  custodiri,  ni  velit, 
ilia  potest.' 

156.  Sit  modOf  non  feci,  &c, :  Ov.  Amor,  iii.  14.  48. 
P.  332,  166.  Hippomanes  ,  .  .  Venus  ,  ,  •  vowes :  the  version  is  that 
related  by  Venus  herself,  Ov.  Met,  x.  680-95.    Lyly  spells  *  Hippomanes  * 
for  *  Hippomenes '  in  two  or  three  other  places. 


THE   MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS, 

P.  346,  132.  desires',  trisyllable.    So  houre  1.  139  is  a  dissyllable. 
133.  The  trick  of  repetition  noticeable  in  this  song  is  seen  also  in  the 
first  and  last  songs  of  the  Fairies  (ii.  2),  and  in  that  of  the  Muses  (v.  2). 

P.  348,  200.  neate :  more  common  as  a  plural  than  a  singular.    Spenser 
F,  Q,  VI.  ix.  4  *  Whereas  the  Heardes  were  keeping  of  their  neat.* 

229.  record :  recollect,  bethink  thee  of.  Euph,  i.  303 1. 3 1,  and  Glossary. 
P.  349,  238.  vncoth :  unknown,  wild.    Bullen  quotes  As  You  Like  It, 
ii.  6  *  this  uncouth  forest'    Also,  of  forest  paths,  Quarr.  vol.  i.  465  1.  18. 
P.  360,  277.  wreake :  reck,  as  in  v.  1-3 1. 
297.  safetie :  a  trisyllable. 
314.  A  hunts  vp :  hunting-song,  r^veill^e  for  the  hunters — Bullen  ; 


570  NOTES 

who  t&ections  one,  with  music  bf  J.  Bdmct,  in  I 
croft,  i6i4« 
P.  861,  ^24.  th€ gocd  AihemiM  hugkii  Theiei 
340.  rasialls  :  *  the  n^nlar  fume  for  a  leaa. 

tiL  3,  &C.'  f  Bullen;. 

P.  363,  16.    Thb   speech  and  the  lemainii 
are  printed,  like  the  rest  of  the  scene,  as  verse 
linguished  the  prose  here  and  in  later  scenes ;  fa 
ioUowed  him. 

26.  such  a  dearth  ai  this  time :  Fleay  (Biog. 
30.  Ugerttie :  (Ft.  l/gh^e//)  Henry  K,  ir.  i.  S 
and  fresh  legerity  * — rare. 
41.  Coaiei  oote,  cottage. 
P.  364^  50.  drawe  drie facie :  follow  by  the  see 
(BuUen). 

P.  366, 113.  A  duskieCaue^Scci  Bulknnotest 
of  Morpheus  in  the  Faerie  Queene,  I.  L 

123.  whisht :  silent.     Tempest,  i.  2.  378 

'Curtsied  when  you  have,  and  k 
The  wild  waves  whist.' 
125.  piancher:    (Fr.  pianche)  a  plank.    An 
*  Whibt  on  the  planchers  pants  his  weary  body ' 
'  a  planched  gate'  (Bullen). 

P.  366,  139.  ifuontinenti  immediately.    So  E 
incontinently  to  procure  the  meanes.' 

147.  Swifter  then  thought,  &c. :  here  the  ai 
one  of  the  imaginary  transferences  of  scene  fa 
spearean  drama.  See  Essay  on  '  Lyly  as  a  Pit 
It  is  quite  irreconcilable  with  11.  170-1  below,  ^ 
Ascanio's  sleeping-place. 

P.  367,  175.  Three  sonnes  I  haue  .  .  Morpheu, 
Met.  xi.  633-43 

'At  pater  e  populo  natorum  mille  suorum 
Excitat  artificem,  simulatoremque  figurae. 
Morphea.    Non  illo  iussos  solertius  alter 
Exprimit  incessus,  vultumque  sonumque  I 
Adiicit  et  vestes,  et  consuetissima  cuique 
Verba.    Sed  hie  solos  homines  imitatur. 
Fit  fcra,  fit  volucris,  fit  longo  corpore  set 
Hunc  Icclon  Superi,  mortale  Phobetora  1 
Nominat.    Est  ctiam  diversae  tertius  arti 
Phantasos.    llle  in  humum,  saxumque,  in 
Quaeque  vacant  anima,  feliciter  onmia  tn 
202.  slake :  slacken,  abate. 


THE   MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS  571 

P.  368, 1.  Sc.  II.  TerlitelOy  &c. :  Mopso's  and  Frisco's  songs  are,  says 
Bullen,  evidently  fragments  of  old  ballads. 

11.  Fortune  my  foe^  &c.:  these  four  lines  are  from  the  old  ballad  of 
Fortune  my  foe,  printed  in  the  Bagford  Ballads  (ed.  Ebsworth,  pt.  iv. 
962-3) :  the  music  in  Chappell's  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time^  i.  162. 

P.  859,  19.  c(ise  ofrope-rtfies :  set  or  pair  of  rogues  ripe  for  the  gallows. 

*  Rope-ripe  terms  *  for  low  abuse,  Chapman's  May -day,  Act  iii  (Nares). 

23.  Apple-squier',  pimp. 

24.  bale  of  false  dice:  set  of  dice,  usually  three.  1577  Holin.  Chron, 
iii.  848  *  Diuerse  bales  of  dice '  (N.  E.  D.). 

40.  Buske  poynt :  the  end  of  the  strip  of  whalebone  that  stiffens  the 
front  of  the  corset. 

53.  By  the  moone,  &c. :  this  song,  and  that  on  p.  361, 1.  105,  were 
reprinted  in   Thos.   Ravcnscroft's  Brief  Discourse ^  &c.   1614,  and  by 
Mr.  Bullen  in  his  Lyrics  from  Elizab,  Song-Books^  p.  20$. 
P.  360,  60.  Mawmets :  mammets,  puppets. 

77.  Cricket :  Bullen  quotes  Drayton's  Fairy  Wedding 
*  Besides  he's  deft  and  wondrous  airy, 
And  of  the  noblest  of  the  fairy ! 
Chiefe  of  the  Crickets  of  much  fame 
In  fairy  a  most  ancient  name.' 
and  Merry  Wives,  v.  5.  47. 
P.  862,  24.  growne ;  dissyllable,  probably  for  growen. 
37.  Phebus :  the  last  syllable  elided,  as  also  at  11.  71,  78,  85,  but  not 
at  U.  43,  Zt.    In  spite  of  Masson  {Milton^s  Poet,  Works,  i.  122),  1.  66  of 
Comus — *To  quench  the  drouth  of  Phoebus,  which  as  they  taste'— is 
probably  to  be  scanned  in  the  same  way. 

56.  Amycla^  sonne :  Hyacinth  is  called  *  Amyclides '  in  Ov.  Met.  x. 
162.    The  author  substitutes  the  sledge-hammer  for  Ovid's  discus. 

P.  863,  75.  Eurania :  as  if  one  of  the  Graces.  But  from  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  *  Graces '  seat  in  v.  i.  100  and  the  consequent  introduction  of 
'  Muses '  in  V.  2  it  is  clear  the  author  recognized  no  distinction. 

81.  My  grief's  of  course :  i.  e.  natural  and  inevitable.  See  Euphues, 
i.  201  1.  22,  note,  ii.  141  1.  3. 

P.  864, 128.  a  standing:  Cymbeline,  ii.  3.  75  'yield  up  their  deer  to 
the  stand  of  the  stealer.' 

P.  866, 193.  And  feele  it  tooi  the  4°  prints  Apollo's  speech  as  a  com- 
plete line,  of  which  this  is  the  last  portion. 

222.  euer :  pronounced  here  and  at  1.  233  as  monosyllable  ^er.  So 
whether  \,  229,  and  L  218. 

P.  867.  [Scene  II]  rightly  printed  as  prose  by  the  4°  except  in  one  or 
two  short  speeches. 

1.  iettest:    struttest,    Whitney  quotes  J.  Udall*s  Flowres,  fol.  97 

*  jettyng  like  a  lord.' 


572  NOTES 

21.  Wkaittn  a  God\  Whitney  gives  '  Whate^ 
of— prov.  Eng.  and  Scotch.  "  Whatan  a  fecc  I "  Ni 
P.  368,  53.  Btdlaze :    '  Builace,  a  wild  plum  1 
(N.  E.  D.).     Wildings^  crab-apples. 

60.  the  mare,  the  man  rode  on  to  MidUian  :  ei 
parallel  to  the  *  House  that  Jack  built.' 

62.  hume  our  caps :  apparently  a  proverb  f 
action  in  some  utterly  unexpected  event,  such  as  ] 
thing  wise ;  or  else  for  extravagant  hilarity,  cf.  M. 
P.  869,  89.  Assoyle ;  clear  up,  resolve.  The  N. 
from  Chaucer,  Caxton,  and  Whbton  (1696),  and  < 
-  Xrte  of  Po€sie  of  assail  as  a  substantive. 

94.  murUmru'es :  perhaps  allied  to  'merligoes 
word  given  by  Whitney  for  dizziness,  for  which  a  di 
*  merrily  goes '  is  suggested. 

P.  870,  13.  Record:  of  singing,  or  musical  som 

iii.  I.  79,  Euphues,  ii.  58  1.  7,  and  below  sc.  2  L  42. 

118.  right  his  wrong :  must  mean  *  correct  hii 

P.  371,  35.  He  make  you  .  .  .  for  .  .  .  prating 

parallel  to  the  ironical '  fit,'  meaning  ^  disable  froa 

ventive  use  of  *  for'  as  noted  on  p.  178  1. 47.    The 

fit  *  1605-8  Roxb.  Ballads,  vii. 470  **  His  Lass  . . .  di 

whoring." '    Cf.  Beau,  and  Flet.  Hum.  Lieut,  iv.  I, 

50-1.  The  quarto  prints  these  two  lines  as 

should  have  five  blank  lines  in  succession,  which  < 

the  play. 

P.  373,  117.  Lost  or  forlorn:   the  latter,  prop< 

forlese,  to  lose,  must  be  distinguished  as  meanin| 

tion,'  *  ruined,'  though  she  may  know  her  whereab 

133.  stands  on  ioynisi  probably  means  'consist 

'  is  merely  inferential/  alluding  to  Aramanthus'  qu 

use  is  quoted  ;  and  it  may  refer  to  his  movements  ( 

P.  374,  145.  Antick :  as  adjective.    Drayton's  , 

Salyres  Anticke  parts  he  play'd.* 

155.  defie:  OF.  defier^  renounce  faith  or  allegl 
157.  this  is  leape  yeare :  this  conflicts  with  a  \ 
or  more  probably  compels  us  to  suppose  it  first  pro 
P.  375,  188.  Heres  old  transforming:  the  inten 
rightly  renders  by  *  fine,*  *  rare,*  rather  than  *  freqw 
needs  illustration  ;  but  cf.  Euph,  ii.  7  1.  11  '  his  fee 
Helena,'  i.e.  absolutely  beautiful. 

14.  taketh  keepe:  takes  care  (of  the  sheep), 
•for  love.'  Chaucer's  Prol.  to  Wif  of  B.  231  «' 
taketh  kepe  or  charge  Wher  that  we  goon.' 


THE   MAYDES   METAMORPHOSIS  573 

18.  Albe :  albeit,  as  below,  1.  82. 

21.  Erynnis  stop  thy  throte :  merely  =  *  A  Fury  on  thy  bawling !  * 
P.  876,  31.  Instruct :  only  with  personal  object  in  modem  speech. 
P.  877,  70.  Sib\  kin;   used  as  subst  or  adj.      Still  in  Scotch:   cf. 
R.  L.  Stevenson,  Catriana^  p.  56  '  Sib  to  the  Advocate.' 

82.  set  no  sale  But  truth  vpon  thy  tale :  put  no  value  or  estimate 
but  truth  on  it,  i.  e.  give  an  air  of  truth  to. 

86.  wonning :  dwelling  (Ger.  wohnen)^  as  repeatedly  in  Spenser,  &c. 

P.  878,  21.  What  though  thy  habit  differ  from  thy  kind:    Ascanio 

of   course   recognizes   only  a  change   of  dress    (habit):    her   change 

of  sex  or  nature  (kind)  is  only  acknowledged  below,  11.  40  sqq.     How 

Eurymine  has  got  rid  of  Silvio  and  Gemulo  is  not  explained. 

P.  881, 113.  base;  i.e.  bass. 

135.  well  ouertakeni  ]ocu]o*s  distinction  merely  means  that  he  is  the 
surprised  party,  or  the  one  followed.    Cf.  *  well  ouertane,'  v.  i.  51. 

P.  882,  S.D.  Muses  I  In  v.  i.  109  and  in  iii.  i  they  were  '  Graces'  or 
'  Charites,'  but  in  the  earlier  scene  L  75  Apollo  addressed  one  of  them  as 
'  Eurania ' :  so  that  evidently  the  distinction  is  not  to  be  pressed. 

P.  888,  14.  Or  that :  or  possibly  as  temporal  conjunction, = before  that 
(takes  place),  as  often  in  the  phrase  '  or  ever ' ;  but  more  probably  the 
simple  disjunctive,  *that*  being  constructed  with  *see'  L  12. 

23.  Hide  not^  oh  hide  not,  &c. :  the  same  trick  of  repetition  was 
noticeable  in  Eurymine*s  song  in  Act  i. 

25.  Illustrate;  again  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  v.  i.  118  'this  most 
gallant,  illustrate,  and  learned  gentleman.' 

P.  886, 142.  mistresse ;  no  need  to  insert  is ;  mistresse  is  probably 
intended  as  a  trisyllable.    Cf.  the  pun  on  '  mysteries,'  Gall,  iv.  4.  21. 

148.  lunos  balme ;  balm  was  sprinkled  at  nuptial  solemnities,  e.  g.  at 
the  marriage  of  Cupid  and  Psyche,  Apuleius'  Met,  vi.  24  *  Gratiae  spar- 
gebant  balsama.' 

1 52.  Caull ;  a  little  net  for  the  head,  often  in  Euphues, 

PAPPE  WITH    AN   HATCHET, 

(In  the  following  Notes  the  letters  J.  P.  refer  to  John  Petheram's  reprint 
of  the  pamphlet,  1844,  12™°,  as  No.  3  of  *  Puritan  Discipline  Tracts.') 
P.  893.  Title — Pappe  with  an  hatchet :  the  proverbial  nature  of  this 
phrase,  which  occurs  in  the  text  at  p.  404  1.  33  *  The  babie  comes  in  with 
Nunka,  Neame^  and  Dad;  (Pappe  with  an  hatchet  for  such  a  puppie) ',  is 
indicated  by  the  alternative  titles,  and  by  its  use  in  Mother  Bombie^  i.  3. 104 
*they  giue  vs  pap  with  a  spoon  before  we  can  speak,  and  when  wee 
speake  for  that  wee  loue,  pap  with  a  hatchet ' :  and  in  the  Discourse  of 
Marriage — *  He  that  so  old  seeks  for  a  nurse  so  young,  shall  have  pap 
with  a  hatchet  for  his  comfort'  (HarL  Misc.  ii.  171,  quoted  by  J.  P.). 


574  NOTES 

Mr.  Saintsbary  parallels  it  with  'gi\'ing  him  his  gi 
is  that  of  unkind  treatment  where  kindness  might  1 
bore  its  present  meaning  as  early  as  Piers  Plowmi 
[or]  hatchet '  (Skeat) ;  and  in  the  absence  of  mat 
to  the  origin  of  the  phrase,  we  may  perhaps  ima; 
catching  up  the  first  implement  that  came  handj 
squalling  infant. 

9.  patch :  properly  an  aUusion  to  the  motley  c 
iii.  2.  71  *  What  a  pied  ninny's  this  !  thou  scurvy  ] 

11.  call  a  dog,  a  cbgi  proverb  for  plain  speei 

13.  lokn  Anoke :  Noakes  or  Nokes,  which  Hi 
'simpleton/  is  a  typical  rustic  name  (cf.  'A  • 
allusive  here  (with  '  John  Astile ')  to  the  manner  a 

14.  Bayliue  of  Withernam  i  Withernam  ii 
reprisal^  or  *  taking  of  other  goods  or  cattle  in  liei 
and  effoinedyOr  otherwise  witholden '  (Rees*  Cyclo^ 
against,  and  nehmen^  to  take.  On  April  3,  1583, 
to  the  Council  of  a  disturbance  in  London  abo 
Custom  of  Withernam '  upon  London  vessels  wi 
Cinque  Ports,  suggesting  that  London  might  leta 

18.  sentence :  proverb  or  motto. 
P.  894,  1.  To  the  Father  and  the  two  Sonnex 
prelate,  Martin  Senior,  and  Martin  Junior.    Ml 
that  Huflfe,  Ruffe,  and  Snuffe  are  characters  in  \ 
[acted  c.  1561,  printed  1 579-1 585].    The  pseuda 
first  appears  on  the  title-page  of  The  Epistle  isi 
1588.    The  first  mention  of  Martin  Senior  is  in 
tract,  The  Epitome,  issued  about  Feb.  2, 1589— -'n 
that  worthy  wight'  (Puritan  Discipline  Tracts, 
Martinianct,  issued  about  July  22,  1589,  profess 
afler-birth  of  the  noble  Gentleman  himselfe,  by 
Martin  JxTiior ' ;  and  these  are  followed  about  Julj 
and  reproof e  of  Martin  Junior,  wherein  *  the  boy 
him  ...  by  bis  reuerend  and  elder  brother,  Martii 
hee  is  not  bereaued  of  his  due  commendations.' 

8.  take  pepper  in  the  nosei  i.e.  take  offen* 
proper  to  the  sternutatory  names  above. 

6.  grating:  intentional  perversion  of  *greetii 

7.  royster\  earlier  form  of  'roysterer.'     Cf. 

?K  more  "ivorke  . . .  wood  enough  to  cleauei  al 
\\A\^\  /l.n*  arty  work  for  Cooper,  issued  about  Mj 
«»^  <h<*  Aifm^^mfion  to  the  people  of  England  hyTl 


\ilCO 


PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET  575 

12.  shoot  bookes  like  f coles  bolts :  referring  to  the  proverb  *  a  fool's 
bolt  is  soon  shot.'    Six  Marprelate  tracts  appeared  in  1589  before  Papfe. 

18-9.  mist . . .  mist :  same  pun  J/.  Bomb,  iii.  4.  160. 

23.  list :  the  border  or  edge  of  a  piece  of  cloth. 

28.  cutters :  swashbucklers,  swaggerers,  bullies. 

ale  dagger  \  compare  Nash's  A  Countercuffe^  sig.  A  iij  recto  *a 
swapping  Ale-dagger  at  his  back,  containing  by  estimation  some  two  or 
three  poundes  of  yron  in  the  hyltes  and  chape.'  The  term  is  witness  to 
the  frequency  of  tavern-brawls  like  that  in  which  Marlowe  was  killed, 
June  I,  1593. 

P.  395,  3.  copper  repiie :  suggests  the  use  of  cheap  spurs  of  this  metal. 
Cf.  *spurre  schollers,'  M,  Bomb,  iv.  I.  20.    All  to,  quite,  as  p.  404  1.  34. 

5.  play  at  chestesy  as  well  as  his  nephewe  the  ape :  *  chestes '  for 
'chess,*  a  corrupt  pi.  of  checks^  OF.  ^j^A^^j,  *  kings,*  occurs  Euph,  ii.  162 
1.  36,  and  H  alii  well  quotes  ^Jouer  aux  eschets,  to  play  at  chests  or 
tables,'  Nomcnclatory  1 585,  p.  294.  *  Nephew '  in  the  general  sense  of 
'  relation  '  or  '  descendant.'  '  Martin '  seems  to  be  a  conmion  name  for  an 
ape,  like  *  Ned '  for  a  donkey,  *  Wat '  for  a  hare,  &c.  Cf.  Whip  for  an 
Ape,  St.  2  *  Who  knoweth  not  that  Apes  men  Martins  call.'  Lyly  must 
have  in  mind  some  monkey  trained  to  play,  or  seem  to  play,  the  game. 

6.  scaddle :  *  Thievish,  generally  in  a  petty  way  only ;  used  in  con- 
tempt. Kent^  (Halliwell).  Mr.  Saintsbury  explains  it,  on  Skeat's  autho- 
rity, as  AS.  scadol  (from  scathe),  'mischievous,'  with  secondary  sense 
*  thievish,*  and  tertiary  *  timid '  or  *  skulking.'  Here  probably  a  combina- 
tion of  all  three. 

7.  dydoppers:  Skeat  quotes  ^  Doppar^  or  dydoppar^  watyr-byrdc, 
mergulus,'  Prompt,  Parv,  p.  127.  Lyly  compares  the  anonymity  of 
Martin  to  the  dabchick's  habit  of  hiding  its  head  in  the  water.  The  same 
notion  of  secrecy  is  implied  in  its  use  by  Fen  ton,  Tragicall  Discourses, 
fol.  64  'make  theym  seme  maydenlike  (althought  they  haue  alreadie 
playd  the  dydopper).* 

12.  your  dads  dictionariex  Martin  Marprelate's  'grammar  and 
lexicon '  are  twice  mentioned  in  The  iuste  reproofe,  C  4  and  D  i. 

14.  at  an  houres  warning',  in  An  Almond  for  a  Parrot ,  p.  12  (J.  P.), 
Nash  alludes  to  '  the  extemporall  endeuour  of  the  pleasant  author  of  Pap 
with  a  hatchet.' 

15.  Double  V:  =  W,  i.  e.  a  match  for  two  of  you. 

P.  886, 13.  answered  by  the  grauitie  of  learned  Prelates :  as  in  the 
Bishop  of  Winchester's  Admonition, 

16.  camels  neuer  drinke,  til,  &c :  Pliny,  Ned,  Hist,  viiu  26  *  im- 
plentur,  cum  bibendi  occasio  est,  et  in  praeteritum,  et  in  futurum,  obturbata 
proculcatione  prius  aqua :  aliter  potu  non  gaudent.*  An  allusion  to  the 
same  circumstance  occurs  in  Euphues,  ii.  143  1.  14,  and  Mother  Bombie, 

V.  3.  233- 


576  NOTES 

22.  The  Scithian  slaues  .  . .  tcunde  with  whippes^  &c. :  Herodotus, 
iv.  3,  as  before  Euphttes,  ii.  147  1.  26. 

29.  addle  egges  .  .  .  idle  heads  \  same  annomination  in  Euph,  L  299 
1.  32,  325  1.  13,  Midas,  ii.  2.  18. 

31.  the  theeuesy  that  had  an  yron  bed,  &c  :  i.  e.  Sciron  and  Procrustes 
(Hyg.  Fab.  38),  whom  Lyly  incorrectly  represented  as  partners  before,  in 
EuphueSy  ii.  97  1.  30. 

P.  897,  3.  cast  in  Martins  mould,  his  religion  must  needes  mould : 
same  pun  occurs  elsewhere. 

4.  He  saith  he  is  a  Courtier  \  in  The  Epitome ,  p.  2,  *I  hauc 
bene  entertayned  at  the  Court,*  and  p.  4,  *  It  will  be  but  follie  for  you  to 
prosecute  the  Courtier  Martin,'  cf.  ib.  p.  59  and  Hay  any  Worke,  p.  59. 

P.  388,  1.  anie  musique  this  morning*,  the  custom  of  moming^  serenad- 
ing is  illustrated  by  the  song  *  Hark,  hark !  the  lark,*  &c.  in  Cyfnheline,  by 
Rom,  and  Jul,  iv.  4. 21 ,  by  Mother  Bomb.  v.  3,  and  alluded  to  in  Nash's  Haue 
with  you  to  Saffron  Waldron  (1596)  *  With  a  blacke  sant  he  meanes  shortly 
to  bee  at  his  chamber  window,  for  calling  him  the  Fiddlesticke  of  Oxford.' 

7.  Bastard  Junior  . . .  Bastard  Senior,  &c. :  see  note  on  p.  394  L  I. 

13.  Bishops  bobbs :  blows  from  the  bishops.    As  You  Like  It,  ii.  7.  55. 

15.  restie;  angry,  out  of  temper:  the  word  soon  lost  its  original 
sense  of  a  stubbornness  that  will  not  move  for  whipping. 

16.  Maukin :  Malkin,  diminutive  of  Mary,  i.  e.  Mai  and  kin  (Nares). 
Marg.  mazer :  a  large  drinking-bowl. 

17.  Eldertoni  *Elderton*s  company  of  players  is  mentioned,  under 
the  year  1572,  in  Collier's  Annals  of  the  Stage,  i.  205  [199]  '  (J.  P.).  He 
is  mentioned  in  An  Almond,  &c.  p.  22,  and  in  Harvey's  Pierce's  Superero- 
gation (1593)  (Archaica,  ii.  p.  86)  Mt  goeth  hard,  when  Scpggin,  the 
louiall  foole,  or  Skelton  the  Malancholy  foole,  or  Elderton  the  bibbling 
foole,  or  Will  Sommer  the  chollericke  foole,  must  play  the  feate.'  He  is 
recorded  as  playing  fourth  Son  to  the  Lord  of  Misrule  in  1552,  and  as 
ending  his  career  as  a  popular  ballad-maker  famous  for  his  red  nose. 
Died  before  1606.  Several  of  his  ballads  are  printed  in  the  Somers 
Tracts,  vols,  i,  ii. 

18.  hcuker, . .  cut  it :  the  context  suggests  that '  hacker '  is  a  synonym 
for  *  cutter,*  i.  e.  swaggerer,  rowdy.  Nares  gives  only  *  hackster,'  a  hack- 
nied  person.  Perhaps  it  is  a  misprint  for  hawker,  pedlars  being  the 
usual  ballad- vendors. 

20.  those  of  Bonner y  or  the  ierkes  for  a  Jesuit :  ballads  against  Bishop 
Bonner,  of  Mary's  reign.  In  the  Harleian  Miscellany,  i.  612-17,  is 
printed  *  An  Epitaph  .  . .  vpon  the  Life  and  Death  of  Dr.  Bonner,  who 
dyed  the  Fifth  of  Sept  in  the  Marshalsie  . . .  1569  Sept.  14.'  A  note  on 
the  above  adds  '  Some  verses  of  more  merit,  and  little  less  causticity, 
were  addressed  to  Bonner,  by  the  father  of  the  celebrated  Sir  John 
Harington,  and  are  printed  in  Nugae  Antiquae,  ii.  ed.  1804.    Other  verses. 


PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET  577 

made  upon  Bonner's  picture,  appeared  in  the  Mirraur  0/ Martyrs ,  1615  ; 
but  the  most  virulent  piece  of  personal  invective  against  this  hated  man 
was  intitled  '  A  Commemoration,  or  Dirige  of  Bastarde  Edmonde  Boner, 
alias  Savage,  usurped  Bisshoppe  of  London,'  and  printed  in  1569.  It 
closes  with  a  lineal  pedigree,  in  which  the  descent  of  Bonner  is  pretended 
to  be  traced  from  a  juggler,  a  cutpurse,  and  a  Tom  o'  Bedlam.'  On  p.  407 
1. 14  naughty  children  '  ought  to  be  ierkt.'  Cupid  in  Sapho  andPhao^  L  I. 
41,  is  afraid  Sapho  '  wil  yerke  me,  if  I  hit  her.* 

23.  a  little  wag  in  Cambridge ,  .  .  Saint  Seaton  .  .  .  Sillogisnus : 
Nash  is  referred  to.  In  Almond^  p.  42,  Nash  speaks  of  Penry  *  whiles  hee 
was  yet  a  fresh  man  in  Peterhouse,  and  had  scarce  tasted,  as  we  say,  of 
Setori's  modalibus  * — evidently  a  treatise  on  logic.  The  Epistle^  pp.  44-7, 
contains  a  string  of  formal  arguments. 

P.  389,  1.  cast  a  figure  . .  .  conclusion :  i.e.  a  horoscope  conducting  to 
the  gallows. 

11.  play  three  a  vies  wits  . . .  drop  vie  st abbes :  *  to  vie '  is  to  wager. 
Skeat  quotes   Cotgrave,  OF.  ^ envier  (au  jeu),  to  vie*;   and  Florio, 

*  inuitare  (at  giuoco),  to  vie  or  to  reuie  at  any  game,  to  drop  vie' ;  and 
Wedgwood,  *  From  the  verb  was  formed  the  adverbial  expression  d  Venvi^ 
E.  a- vie,  as  if  for  a  wager :  **  They  that  write  of  these  toads  strive  a-vie  who 
shal  write  most  wonders  of  them,"  Holland,  tr.  of  Pliny,  xxxii.  5.*  *  Play 
three  a  vies  wits,*  therefore,  means  '  match  or  wager  three  wits  against 
thine' — the  three  being  Lyly,  Nash,  and  Greene  (cf.  Life,  i.  54  note  2,  58 
note  2,  but  see  also  note  on  p.  407  1.  2) ;  and  '  drop  vie  stabbes  *  means 
similarly  '  match  thee  at  stabbing.* 

14.  an  Hospitalli  the  Savoy  is  alluded  to;  see  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  17-8. 

*  The  circuite  of  Westchester  *  is  the  diocese  of  Chester.  Lyly  is  replying 
to  Hay  any  Worke^  P«  ii>  *Our  brother  Westchester,  had  as  Hue  playe 
twentie  nobles  in  a  night,  at  Priemero  on  the  cards,  as  trouble  him  selfe 
with  any  pulpit  labor  .  .  .  What  a  bishop  such  a  cardplaier  ?  * 

15.  an  old  slabber  at  passage :  *  ^*  Passage  "  from  the  French  "  passe- 
dix."  **  Passage  is  a  game  at  dice  to  be  played  at  but  by  two,  and  it  is 
performed  with  three  dice.  The  caster  throws  continually  till  he  hath 
thrown  dubblets  under  ten,  and  then  he  is  out  and  loseth,  or  dubblets 
above  ten,  and  then  he  passeth  and  wins.** — Compleat  Gamester^  1680, 
p.  119.  From  the  same  excellent  authority  we  learn  that  "stabbing  the 
dice'*  was  one  of  the  tricks  practised  by  the  cheats  of  old  times,  p.  12  * 
(Petheram*s  Reprint,  p.  45).  Ccder  tray,  the  throw  of  four  and  three  at 
dice.     Cater  caps,  four-cornered  college  caps :  see  note  on  p.  401  1.  31. 

20.  fi>yne  :  push  or  thrust. 

22.  dicker:  ten,  of  any  commodity;  e.g.  *a  dicker  of  cow-hides,* 
Hey  wood,  first  part  King  Ed,  IV,  1600  (Nares). 

23.  spieene :  impulse,  mood ;  stroakty  soothed. 

25.  a  warmings  as  shall  make  .  .  .  like  wood^  &c. :  cf.  Euph.  i.  296 

BOND  III  P  P 


578  NOTES 

1.  lo,  note :  *  You  shall  conceyue  heate  and  brin^^  foorth  woode,  yoa 
owne  consciences  shall  consume  you  lyke  fire.' 

26.  woodsere :  the  Cent  Diet  quotes  '  The  froth  which  they  a] 
woodseare,  being  like  a  kind  of  spittle,  is  found  but  upon  certain  herbs . . . 
as  lavender . . .  sage,  &c  Bacon,  Nat.  Hist  §  497.'    Cf.  Ga//a/JUay  v.  i.  31 

28.  colde  siomackei  synonym  for  indigestion,  as  the  context  shows. 
'  Cinnamom-water '  is  water  percolated  through  cotton  moistened  with  oil 
of  cinnamon. 

29.  an  Estritch  a  two  penie  nailei  Euphues^  i.  260  L  29  '  the  estrid^e 
disgesteth  harde  yron  to  preserue  his  healthe,'  where  see  note. 

30.  did  your  Father  die  at  the  Groyne?',  in  the  Epilogue  to  Tkem 
Martiniance^  Martin  Junior,  speculating  on  the  whereabouts  of  Martin 
Marprelate,  says, '  Others  giue  out,  that  in  the  seniice  of  his  countrey,  and 
her  Maiesties,  he  died,  or  was  in  gret  dager  at  the  Groine.'  In  April 
1589,  an  expedition  of  14,000  men  sailed,  under  Sir  John  Norris  and  Sir 
Francis  Drake,  in  aid  of  the  Portuguese  prince  Don  Antonio  against 
Philip  of  Spain  ;  and  on  their  way  to  Lisbon  landed  at  the  Groyne  (La 
Coruiia,  Corunna),  defeated  a  Spanish  force,  and  captured  the  lower  pan 
of  the  town.    Alluded  to,  Midas ^  iv.  4.  12,  where  see  note  (p.  533). 

36.  rochet :  bishop's  surplice. 

39.  biggin :  night-cap. 

41.  Sudburie'.  on  the  borders  of  Suffolk  and  Essex.  The  story  was 
probably  supplied  by  Nash. 

P.  400,  7.  Wye :  in  Kent  near  Ashford.  Nash  in  The  Return  cf 
Pasquill  (C  ii  r.)  recounts  a  meeting  of  Puritans  at  the  latter  place  ai 
which  he  and  Lyly  were  present :  see  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  52  note. 

hostesse  of  the  Swanne  in  Warwicke :  probably  a  sympathizer  or 
confederate  with  Job  Throckmorton,  supposed  to  be  joint  author  with 
Penry  of  Martin  Junior^  Martin  Senior  (i.  e.  Theses  Mart,  and  The  iust 
censure^  &c),  and  of  the  arrested  pamphlet  More  Worke  for  Cooper ^  at 
whose  house  at  Haseley,  3J  miles  NW.  of  Warwick,  the  Protestatyon  was 
printed.  See  Arber's  Introductory  Sketch  to  the  Controversy,  pp.  78, 
175-84,  193-6  ;  and  Life,  voL  i.  pp.  54-5. 

10.  shelve  the  Queene :  metaphor  from  cards,  meaning  here  '  protest 
loyalty,*  as  is  done  in  The  Epistle ^  pp.  13-4  (ed.  Arb.),  Hay  any  Worke 
(Pur.  Discip.  Tracts),  pp.  45-7. 

18.  a  hundred  merrie  tales,  and  the  petigree  of  Martin :  alluding 
probably  here,  and  again  pp.  401  1.  37,  405  1.  12,  under  the  title  of  the 
well-known  Jest-book,  to  Nash's  projected  Lives  of  the  Saints^  i.  e.  scandal 
about  the  Martinists,  announced  in  Countercuffe,  A  i  v. 

21.  secundum  vsum  Sarum :  Ray's  Proverbs  gives  it  as  a  proverb 
for  '  things  done  with  exactness,  according  to  rule  and  precedent.'  Thf 
office  was  drawn  up  by  Bishop  Osmund  of  Sarum,  c.  1090,  and  came  into 
general  use. 


PAPPE  WITH  AN  HATCHET  579 

22.  can  tell  twentie:  either  (i)  to  be  able  to  count  up  to  twenty  was 
an  early  proverb  for  a  forward  child  or  a  person  with  his  wits  about  him, 
or  (2)  it  had  some  reference  to  beads,  and  the  repetition  of  prayers.  Cf. 
Beaum.  and  Flet.  Scornful  Ladie^  ii.  i,  where  Martha  snubs  the  chaplain^s 
offer  to  say  grace  with  '  pray  tell  your  twenty  to  yourself.'  The  allusion 
is  to  the  Defence  of  the  Government  established  in  the  Church  of  England^ 
by  Dr.  John  Bridges,  dean  of  Salisbury,  which  started  the  Marprelate 
controversy. 

24.  so  translate  you  out  of  French  into  English  . . .  lie  by  it :  i.  e. 
expose  you  so  plainly  that  you  will  have  to  hide  your  head.  In  J/.  Bomb. 
iii.  2.  46  '  lie  by  it '  is  used  of  the  old  men  laid  up  after  their  drinking 
bout.  The  person  referred  to  may  possibly  be  Lyly's  friend  Thomas 
Watson,  author  of  the  Hecatompathia^  15S2,  who  imitated  Ronsard  and 
other  French  poets :  but  the  allusion  that  immediately  follows  makes  it 
far  more  probable  that  Lyly  is  thinking  of  Harvey's  friend  Spenser,  whose 
Shepheardes  Kalender^  1579?  contained  so  much  paraphrase  or  adapta- 
tion of  Marot,  and  ten  sonnets  by  whom,  translated  from  Du  Bellay, 
had  previously  appeared  in  Vandemoodt*s  Theatre  for  Worldlings^ 
1569. 

25-42.  And  one  will  we  coniure  vp , , ,  Epistle  about . . .  Earthquake 
. . .  tibum-wright :  this  long  passage  refers  to  Gabriel  Harvey,  and  to 
his  publication  of  Three  Proper  and  Wittie  familiar  Letters  lately  passed 
betweene  two  Vniuersitie  men  :  touching  the  Earthquake  in  Aprill  last, 
and  our  English  refourmed  Versifying  ,  .  .  1580.  The  first  of  these 
letters  (reprinted  in  Grosart's  ed.  of  Harvey's  Works,  voL  i)  is  from 
Spenser  to  Harvey  about  versifying.  The  second  is  Harvey's  'Pleasant 
and  Pitthy  and  Familiar  Discourse  of  the  Earthquake  in  Aprill  last,' 
addressed  to  his  '  loouing  friende  M.  Immerito/  i.  e.  Spenser ;  and  this 
letter,  written  after  his  disappointment  about  the  Public  Oratorship,  con- 
tained reflections  on  the  University  and  Dr.  Peme,  Master  of  Peterhouse, 
which  brought  him  into  trouble.  From  Harvey's  Four  Letters  dnd 
certcdne  Sonnets,  pub.  1 592,  we  learn  that  '  The  sharpest  part  of  those 
unlucky  letters  was  overread  at  the  Council  Table'  (Brydges*  Archaica; 
ii.  p.  15),  but  that  he  escaped  imprisonment.  The  third  letter  (of  1580) 
was  about  versifying,  and  contained  a  satire  on  travellers  in  hexameters 
entitled  *  Speculum  Tuscanismi,'  in  regard  to  which  Harvey  in  the  Four 
Letters,  &c.,  writes  as  follows  with  allusion  to  the  present  passage  in 
Pappe — *  another  company  of  special  good  fellows  (whereof  he  was  none 
of  the  meanest  that  brauely  threatened  to  conjure  up  one  which  should 
massacre  Martin's  wit  or  should  be  lambacked  himself  with  ten  years 
provision)  would  needs  forsooth  very  courtly  persuade  the  Earle  of  Oxforde 
that  something  in  those  letters,  and  namely  the  Mirrour  of  Tuscanismo, 
was  palpably  intended  against  him :  whose  noble  Lordship  I  protest 
I  neuer  meante  to  dishonour,'  &c.    The  origin  of  Lyly's  ten  years*  grudge 

P  p  2 


58o  NOTES 

against  Harvey,  of  which  this  slander  of  him  to  Oxford  is  the  first  sign, 
remains  obscure.    See  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  30-1. 

30.  full  of  latin  endes  :  Harvey  was  lecturer  on  rhetoric.  The  first 
of  his  course  in  1577  was  published  as  Ciceronianus^  and  the  two  first  of 
the  course  in  1578  under  the  name  of  Rhetor  (Morley's  Eng.  Writen, 
ix.  17). 

32.  bable\  fool's  bauble. 

35.  lambacke  :  beat  or  bastinado,  also  spelt '  lambeake,*  which  con- 
tradicts the  obvious  etymology.  Halliwell  quotes  Greene's  IXscavery  oj 
Coosnage,  1 591,  'gave  unto  him  halfe  a  score  of  sound  lambeakes  with 
their  cudgels.' 

38.  Shoomakers  hall  in  Sainct  Martins :  a  burlesque  locality.  The 
real  Shoemakers  Hall  is  given  by  Stow,  iii.  9  (end),  as  in  Bread  St  Ward, 
opposite  G*.  Distar  St.  I  believe  this  and  other  similar  allusions  in  Pappe 
are  to  Hay  any  Worke^  p.  64,  where  *  Cliffe  an  honest  and  a  godly  coblcr, 
dwelling  at  Battell  bridg '  is  brought  forward  as  having  refuted,  and  ready 
again  to  refute,  some  statement  of  Archbishop  Whitgift  Cf.  Mar- Marline, 
p.  426  1.  98  (note). 

39.  nor  the  footcloth^  nor  the  beast  that  wears  ity  be  he  horse  or  asu : 
this  seems  to  be  a  recurrence  to  a  ribald  quatrain  in  Mar^Marftne,  p.  424, 
lor  which  quatrain  Lyly  was  possibly  responsible: 

*  Many  would  know  the  holy  Asse, 
And  who  mought  Martin  been, 
Plucke  but  the  footecloth  from  his  backe, 
The  Asse  will  soone  be  scene.* 
41.  Martins y  sonne,  Johns ^  sonne^  or  Richards ^  sonne .  .  .  tibum-wright : 
alluding  to  Gabriel  Harvey's  younger  brothers  John  and  Richard ;  whik 
'  tiburn-wright '  alludes,  as  Fleay  points  out,  to  his  father's  occupation  as 
a  rope-maker.    There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Gabriel  or  any  (tf  the 
Harveys  had  as  yet  taken  any  part  in  the  controversy;  though  Lyly  was 
possibly  led  to  suspect  Gabriel's  hand  in  the  abuse  of  Dr.  Feme  as 
*  Andrew  tumecoat,'  &c.,  which  some  of  the  Martinist  tracts  contained. 
'Now,  however,  Gabriel  wrote  \!i^^  Advertisement  to  Papp-Hatckett^  which 
is  dated  Nov.  5,  1589,  though  only  published  as  the  Second  Book  of 
Pierces  Supererogation   in    1593;    and  in    1590  Richard    Harvey,  the 
second  brother,  issued  his  Plaine  PerciucUl  and  The  Lamb  of  God,  in 
the  latter  of  which  an  epistle  to  the  reader,  composed  perhaps  by  Gabriel, 
perhaps  by  the  brothers  in  collaboration,  vilified  by  name  Lyly,  Nasb, 
and  the  '  make  plaies  and  make  bates '  of  London  in  general. 

42.  cart-wright:  alluding  to  Thomas  Cartwright,  the  champion  of 
Puritan  views  against  Whitgift,  1 572-1 577. 

P.  401,  9.  the  Heraldes :  Stow's  Survey  mentions  that  Derby  House 
in  Castle  Baynard  Ward  (now  Queen  Victoria  St.),  transferred  to  the 
Crown  1553  in  exchange  for  lands  in  Lanes,  was  given  by  Queen  Mary 


PAPPE  WITH   AN   HATCHET  5^1 

to  the  Heralds'  Office  in  1555,  but  says  nothing  of  its  use  as  a  Puritan 
conventicle. 

13.  shoomaker:  see  about  Cobler  Cliffe,  p.  426  1.  96  note. 

14.  caught  by  the  stile :  having  just  dropped  into  euphuistic  punning 
and  alliteration. 

16.  leuell .  . .  roue  at  thee  :  aim  true  .  . .  shoot  wide.  '  Rovers  *  were 
marks  on  the  target  wide  of  the  bull's  eye.    *  To  run  at  rovers,'  run  wild. 

Marginal  note.  Martin  Junior . . .  vnder  a  bush  :  referring  to  Theses 
Mart,  C  iii  *  If  you  demaund  of  mee,  where  I  founde  this,  the  trueth  is, 
it  was  taken  vp  (together  with  certain  other  papers)  besides  a  bush,  where 
it  had  dropped  from  some  body  passing  by  that  way.' 

18.  crochet  on  thy  head',  a  punning  allusion  to  his  music  :  on  for  *  in.' 

19.  Bull',  evidently  from  the  allusions  here  and  on  pp.  404  1.  28, 
406  1.  15,  and  Almond,  p.  14  '  Bui's  slicing,'  he  is  the  executioner. 

23.  him  that  wcUkes  on  his  neais-feete :  i.  e.  on  shoe-leather  =  *  any 
man.* 

31.  foure  comerd  cap :  *  The  homed  cappe  *  is  enumerated  among 
the  *  grosse  pointes  of  popery '  in  Antony  Gilby's  Pleasaunte  Dialogue^ 
1 581 ,  which  summarized  the  Puritan  objections.  '  Catercaps '  is  a  frequent 
Martinist  term  of  abuse  for  Prelatists,  e.  g.  p.  399  1.  18. 

P.  402,  2.  coyne  words,  as  Cankerburie,  Canterburines ',  the  first 
occurs  on  the  title-page  of  Theses  Martiniance,  the  second  is  to  be  found 
in  The  Epistle,  pp.  19,  22  of  Petheram's  Reprint 

a/oole  thcU  shall  so  inkhornize  you  with  straunge  phrases  . . .  For 
Similes,  theres  another,  &c. :  the  first  is  obviously  Nash ;  the  second  as 
obviously  himself,  and  intended  to  conceal  his  identity  in  the  present 
pamphlet. 

4.  bodges :  same  as  '  botches.'  It  occurs  again  in  a  marginal  note  at 
the  end  of  Mar-Martine,  p.  426. 

P.  403,  2.  casting  of  figures  . .  ,  figures  a  flinging  \  *  figure  flinger,  an 
astrologer'  (Halliwell). 

7.  dudgin  :  *  grave  matter,'  the  same  as  dudgeon,  which  Skeat  derives 
from  Welsh  dygen,  malice ;  cf.  dueg,  melancholy,  spleen. 

13.  gnawe  the  bowels,  &c. :  like  the  viper,  as  Euph,  \\,  5  1.  5,  &c. 

19.  Bastard  Junior  complaines  of  brot hells  . .  long  Megg  of  West- 
minster :  Theses  Mart,  D  ii  r.  *  Concerning  Mar-martin  . . .  that  rime  of 
his  sheweth  that  hee  had  no  other  bringing  vppe,  then  in  a  brothel  house 
...  I  cannot  be  induced  to  thinke,  that  hee  hath  had  his  bringing  vp  at  any 
other  trade,  then  in  carryeng  long  Meg  of  Westminsters  hand-basket,'  &c. 
The  rhyme  Mar-Martine,  probably  shared  between  Lyly  and  Nash,  issued 
May-June  1589,  was  answered  a  month  later  by  the  rhymt  Marre  Mar^ 
Martin,  attacking  both  sides.  The  virago  alluded  to  has  been  adequately 
embalmed  in  contemporary  literature  and  its  comment.  Suspect you^  1.  21, 
i.  e.  of  like  fault. 

35.  Martin  will  not  sweare,  but  with  indeede,  &c. :  Lyly  is  thinking 


582  NOTES 

of  Martin's  reflections  in  The  Epistle^  pp.  5,  6,  on  Bishop  Ay]mer*s  bad 
language — *  Sweare  as  commonly  you  do  like  a  lewd  swag.* 

B8.  the  wit  ant :  in  or  of  it. 
P.  404,  4.  wH  but  a  fiaire  ofsheres  betweefUy  &c  :  common  phrase— 
'  you  were  both  cut  out  of  the  same  piece.' 

6.  Aesops  crab :  given  as  the  245th  ('  Cancri ')  in  Fabula  .£sopi(a 
piures  quingentis  . . .  Lugdvniy  M,DX,XXL  p.  275. 

W,  no  such  chdge :  as  the  abolition  of  the  order  of  Bishops  and  the 
substitution  of  government  by  elders,  the  chief  demand  of  The  Efdstle, 

20.  Thou  . . .  preachest  Aesops  fables :  anticipating  a  supposed  objec- 
tion against  his  own  method. 

22.  Pueriles  and Stans  puer  ad  mensam  :  school-books  mentioned  in 
An  Almond^  &c.,  at  pp.  40  and  29  respectively.  The  Farmer  in  Pede's 
Edward  /,  sc.  xii,  says,  *  I  remember  I  read  it  in  Cato's  Pueriles,  that 
Cantabit  vacuus,  &c.,  and  Mr.  BuUen  notes  'Dionysius  Cato*s  Disti- 
cha  Moralia  was  a  famous  old  school-book;  and  there  was  another 
school-book,  Pueriles  Confabiatiunculae,  But  Cato*s  Disticha  was  also 
known  as  Sententiae  Pueriles^  It  was  edited  by  Erasmus  1 5 14,  4^,  and 
by  Tavemer  I5S3,  8**,  and  in  the  Stationers*  Register,  i.  418  (between 
Nov.  1569  and  July  1570),  occurs  *Recevyd  of  henry  bynyman  for 
his  lycense  for  pryntinge  of  a  boke  intituled  sententia[e]  pueriles  in 
laten  .  .  .  iiij<*.'  Halliwell-Phillipps,  Life  of  Shakespeare,  i.  53,  says 
'  The  Sententiae  Pueriles  was,  in  all  probability,  the  little  manual  by  the 
aid  of  which  he  (Shakespeare)  first  learned  to  construe  Latin,  for  in  one 
place,  at  least,  he  all  but  literally  translates  a  brief  passage,  and  there  are 
in  his  plays  several  adaptations  of  its  sentiments.  It  was  then  sold  for  a 
penny,  equivalent  to  about  our  present  shilling,  and  contains  a  large  col- 
lection of  brief  sentences  collected  from  a  variety  of  authors,  with  a  dis- 
tinct selection  of  moral  and  religious  paragraphs,  the  latter  intended  for 
the  use  of  boys  on  Saints*  Days.'  The  Stans  Puer  was  a  poem  on 
manners  at  table,  by  John  Lydgate.  It  was  printed  by  Pynson,  and  repub. 
1588  (Halliwell  in  Sh,  Soc,  Papers  (1849),  >v-  S^i  ^i^^  quotations  from  it). 

27.  Aptots :  i.  e.  indeclinable,  like  the  numerals  3-100  above. 

28.  Bulls  voider :  properly  a  basket  or  tray  for  carrying  out  the  relics 
of  a  meal ;  here  from  the  context  the  cloth  ('  apron ')  in  which  the  execu- 
tioner took  away  the  head.    Bull  is  mentioned  pp.  401  1.  19,  406  L  15. 

83.  Nunka,  Neame,  and  Dad:  Theses  M,  is  'dedicated  to  his  good 
neame  and  nuncka  Maister  lohn  Kankerbury.*  '  Neme,'  or  '  neam '  is 
the  same  as  '  eam,'  uncle  ;  the  n  properly  belonging,  as  in  '  nunka,'  to  the 
possessive '  mine.' 

84.  cUl  to :  quite,  as  p.  395  1.  3. 

36.  Hui  f :  perhaps  in  parody  of '  I  cannot  but  laugh,  py  hy  hy  hy ' 
in  Hay  any  worke,  p.  10. 

88.  Que :  queue,  cue,  as  in  Moth,  Bomb.  ii.  4.  21. 


PAPPE  WITH  AN  HATCHET  583 

P.  405,  4.  nwyst  conceit^  and  drie  counsell :  '  moyst '  and  '  drie  *  as  of 
plants  which  are  flourishing  or  the  reverse.  The '  dry  brain '  is  an  Eliza- 
bethan term  for  mental  slowness  or  confusion,  e.  g.  As  You  Like  Ity  ii. 
7.  39  of  Touchstone.    But  cf.  Sapho^  iii.  4.  50  note. 

8.  seeke  to  fish  for  the  Crown  :  the  same  argument  as  on  pp.  395  1. 7, 
407  11.  22-6,  412  11. 1-2,  and  Whip  for  an  Ape^  st.  14. 

11.  abate  of  an  hundred  [tales]  in  the  next  booke :  L  e.  the  '  hundred 
merrie  tales'  promised  pp.  400  1.  18,  401  I.  37. 

18.  a  cloake  hauing  sleeues\  among  the  'Grosse  pointes  of  poperie ' 
enumerated  in  Gilby's  Pleasaunte  Dialogue y  1581,  is  'The  great  wide 
sleeued  gowne,  commaunded  to  the  Ministers,  and  the  charge  to  weare 
those  sleeues  vpon  the  arroes,  be  the  weather  neuer  so  hote.'  Cf.  Almond^ 
p.  46  '  The  blinde,  the  halt,  or  the  lame,  or  any  semes  the  turn  with  them, 
so  he  hath  not  on  a  cloak  with  sleues,  or  a  cap  of  the  vniuersity  cut.' 

17.  a  sleeuelesse  conscience :  cf.  Euph,  i.  253  1.  17  'fayne  any  sleeue- 
less  excuse,'  i.e.  vain,  bootless.  Since  printing  that  note  I  have  found  the 
true  explanation  in  a  custom  noted  in  the  following  passage  from  Lady 
Charlotte  Guest's  trs.  of  the  Mabinogion  (Dream  of  Maxen  Wledig) : 
*  Now  this  was  the  guise  in  which  the  messengers  journeyed  ;  one  sleeve 
was  on  the  cap  of  each  of  them  in  front,  as  a  sign  that  they  were  mes- 
sengers, in  order  that  through  what  hostile  land  soever  they  might  pass 
no  harm  might  be  done  them.'  Without  the  sleeve  they  might  never  be 
able  to  perform  their  errand.  The  Welsh  princess  on  their  arrival  recog- 
nizes *  the  badge  of  envoys.'  Cf.  Tro,  and  Cr.  v.  4. 9 '  a  sleeveless  errand.' 

18.  rippier\  or  '  ripier,'  one  who  brings  fish  from  the  coast  to  sell  in 
the  interior,  from  Lat.  ripa^  or  from  Eng.  ripp^  the  basket  in  which  the 
fish  were  carried,  to  avoid  contact  with  which  the  cape  of  the  cloak,  as  the 
man  rode,  would  be  cast  back  over  the  shoulder. 

25.  kixes",  or  kexes,  hollow  stems  of  hemlock.  Beau,  and  Flet., 
King  and  No  King,  v.  2  *  make  these  withered  kexes  bear  my  body.* 

31.  Mas:  for  'Master' :  '  Mas  Sperantus,'  Moth.  Bomb.  ii.  i.  127. 

83.  like  Primero,  foure  religions^  &c. :  the  hand  in  Primero  called 
'  prime '  had  four  cards  of  different  suits  (inferior  to  a  fiush)  (Nares). 

40.  sod:  past  oiseethe^  boil :  Genesis  xzv.  29  'Jacob  sod  pottage.' 

42.  Elderberrines I  parodying'  Canterburines,'  Epistle ^  pp.  19,  22. 
P.  406,  6.  apikede  vaunt  \  the  Charles  I  beard.    Cf.  p.  133  1.  38  note. 

sweares  by  his  ten  bones :  i.  e.  the  fingers.  So  Whip^  1. 22,  tVoman^ 
v.  I.  23,  of  apes. 

8.  old  John  of  Paris  garden :  a  monkey.  Collier  (Annals^  iii.  279) 
quotes  from  an  account  of  Paris  Garden  written  1544,  'At  the  same  place 
a  poney  is  baited,  with  a  monkey  on  its  back,  defending  itself  against  the 
dogs  by  kicking  them  ;  and  the  shrieks  of  the  monkey,  when  he  sees  the 
dogs  hanging  from  the  ears  and  neck  of  the  pony,  render  the  scene  very 
laughable '  (J.  P.).    Cf.  note  on  p.  280  L  21. 


5«4  NOTES 

9.  fight  Citie  fight :  as  in  a  street  brawl,  with  any  weapon  to  hand. 

16.  three  times  motion  of  Bulli  i.e.  *this  is  my  third  allusion  to 
B./  the  other  two  being  at  pp.  401  1. 19, 404 1. 28.  In  ^  tria  sequuntur  tria' 
the  first  *  tria '  refers  to  the  three  beams  of  which  the  gallows  was  bailt, 
called  'three  trees'  in  Mother Bombie^  ii.  i.  136.  The  phrase  \s  quoted 
again  Midas ^  v.  2.  167  (note). 

17.  olde  Rosses  motion  of  Bridewell ;  Ross  is  presumably  a  turnkey, 
or  a  pursuivant. 

28.  Tobacco :  '  this  is  the  earliest  notice  of  tobacco,  in  the  form  of 
snuff  with  which  I  am  acquainted  *  (J.  P.  who  refers  to  Rymer's  FcecUrd), 

31.  with  the  Archbishop  and  a  Counsellor  \  only  one  person  intended. 
Cf.  The  Epitome^  p.  2  M  speake  not  against  him,  as  he  is  a  Councellor, 
but  as  he  is  an  Archbishop,  and  so  Pope  of  Lambeth.' 

37.  Disdte  iustitiam^  &c. :  Virg.  Aen,  vi.  620. 

38.  more  sower  than  wigi  H  alii  well  gives  *  Wig,  A  small  cake. 
"  Eschaud^,  a  kind  of  wigg  or  symnell,"  Cotgrave.  Var,  dial.  " ' :  and  the 
Century  Diet,  quotes  '  Home  to  the  only  Lenten  supper  1  have  had  of 
wiggs  and  ale,*  Pepys'  Diary ^  ii.  117. 

P.  407,  1.  three  honest  men :  i.  e.  Lyly,  Nash,  and  Greene,  see  p.  399  L  1 1 
note.  W.  Maskell,  however,  suggests  that  Dr.  Bancroft,  by  whose  advice 
the  Bishops  employed  the  wits  to  vindicate  them,  may  himself  have  shared 
in  the  production  of  Anti-martinist  tracts,  his  own  Dangerous  Positions 
and  Proceedings^  1593)  being  something  in  the  same  style  {Martin  Mar- 
Prelate  Controversy^  ch.  vii.  p.  167). 

3.  xxiiij  Bishops :  including  the  two  Archbishops.  They  are 
enumerated,  as  they  sat  in  the  Parliament  of  1563,  in  Harrison's  '  De- 
scription of  Britain'  prefixed  to  Holinshed,  bk.  iL  ch.  5  p.  165. 

7.  poore  lohns :  a  name  given  to  a  coarse  kind  of  fish. 

\\,  fretteth  in  time  like  quicksiluer  into  the  bones:  Bartholomaeus 
Anglicus,  xvi.  8  '  [Quicksilver]  perseth,  boreth  and  fretith  other  matters 
.  .  .  the  fome  therof  healeth  wounds  .  .  .  and  freteth  away  superfluitie  of 
dede  fieshe,  and  letteth  it  not  growe,'  &c. 

14.  ierki :  hit ;  for  the  sense  of  punishment  cf.  *  ierkes  for  a  lesuit,' 
above  p.  398  1.  20. 

19.  beame  .  .  .  milstone :  causes  of  offence  or  of  sinking,  alluding 
to  speeches  of  our  Lord. 

31.  but  my  Unpoope :  properly  the  degree  of  knowledge  that  en- 
titled a  person  to  wear  the  liripipium  or  scarf  as  doctor ;  then  of  common 
knowledge,  or  matter  of  common  sense,  opposed  to  more  formal  or  deeper 
learning:  so  in  Saph.  and Phao^  i.  3.  6,  Moth.  Bomb,  i.  3.  128. 

86.  chiuerell :  cheveril,  cheverel ;  Fr.  chevreuily  doe-skin. 
P.  408,  13.  boulted :  winnowed,  sifted.     Wint.  Tale^  iv.  4.  375  •  the 
fanned  snow  That's  bolted  by  the  northern  blasts.' 

17.  Sedheus  tu^  die  sodesi  '  Hcus  puer  die  sodes/  Ter.  And.  L  I.  58. 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  585 

18-24.  Would  those  Comedies  might  be  allowed  to  be  plaid  that  are 
fend  .  .  .  He  shall  not  bee  brought  in  as  whilom  he  was  .  .  .  with 
a  cocks  combe,  an  afies  /cu:ey  &c. :  cf.  An  Almond,  p.  22  *  as  he  was 
attired  like  an  Ape  on  y®  stage/  Further  details  about  this  presentation 
of  Martin  on  the  stage  are  found  in  Nash's  Retume  of  Pasquill  (C  iii 
verso)  issued  after  The  Protestatyon  and  probably  just  after  Pappe :  it  is 
dated  near  the  end  *  20  Octobris.'  '  Methought  Vetus  Comcedia  began  to 
pricke  him  at  London  in  the  right  vaine,  when  shee  brought  forth 
Diuinitie  wyth  a  scratcht  face,  holding  of  her  hart  as  if  she  were  sicke, 
because  Martin  would  have  forced  her ;  but  myssing  of  his  purpose,  he 
left  the  print  of  his  nayles  vppon  her  cheekes,  and  poysoned  her  with 
a  vomit,  which  he  ministred  vnto  her  to  make  her  cast  vppe  her  digni- 
ties and  promotions/  This  passage  shows  that  the  form  chosen  was  the 
allegorical  form  of  the  Morality,  as  J.  P.  points  out ;  and  a  date  for  this 
performance  is  roughly  indicated  by  another  passage  in  Martinis  Months 
Minde  (Aug.)  E  3  verso,  which  recounts  as  successive  sufferings  of  Martin 
that  he  was  *  drie  beaten,'  then  *  whipt  that  made  him  winse,'  then  *  made 
a  Maygame  vpon  the  stage,  and  at  length  cleane  Marde,'  four  allusions 
which  are  made  perfectly  clear  by  the  printed  marginal  notes  (l)  *T.  C 
(2)  *  A  whip  for  an  Ape,*  (3)  *  The  Theater,'  (4)  *  Marre-martin.*  See  for 
these  Anti-Martmist  plays.  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  52-4. 

26.  stage  plaier  .  .  .  cobler  by  occupation :  here  *  stage  plaier '  is 
obviously  used  of  one  who  performed  for  the  nonce  in  a  Miracle- play 
presented  on  a  movable  stage,  not  of  a  professional  actor. 

30.  qui  tantum  cons  tans,  &c. :  parody  of  Ovid,  Trist.  v.  8.  18  *  Et 
tantum  constans  in  levitate  sua  est.' 

32.  Mardocheus :  Mordecai— *  play '  meaning  '  stand  for,' '  represent.* 

36.  stride  from  Aldgate  to  Ludgate,  and  looke  ouer  all  the  Citie  at 
London  Bridge :  i.  e.  be  taken  in  a  cart  from  prison  to  place  of  execution, 
and  finally  have  his  head  stuck  on  a  pole  as  a  traitor  at  the  south  end  of 
the  Bridge. 

Marginal  note :  the  point  of  the  allusion  is  that  St.  Thomas  a  Water- 
ings, a  place  for  watering  horses  at  a  brook  beside  the  second  milestone 
on  the  Canterbury  road,  was  also  the  Tyburn  of  Surrey,  and  a  real 
hanging  of  Martin  would  be  free  to  the  public  John  Penry,  the  chief 
author  of  the  Marprelate  tracts,  was  actually  hanged  there  on  May  29, 
1593-     'J-  P'*  quotes  the  Prol.  to  the  Canterbury  Tales,  1.  826. 

Marginal  note  :  this  reference  to  The  iust  reproof e  does  not  seem  to 
be  particular.    Cracchus  is  chosen  as  an  extreme  example  of  sedition. 

42,  Aue  Ccesari  Machyn*s  Diary  states  that  a  '  play  *  called  y«//i/j 
Ccesar  was  represented  at  Court  in  1 561  (Collier's  Annals,  i.  90). 
P.  409,  5.  thus  gouerne :  i.  e.  by  bishops. 

37.  Bedlam  and  Bridewell :  the  two  are  mentioned  together  again, 
p.  412  1.30,  and  in  connexion  with  Martin's  language;  and  Jack  Straw 
(as  here)  in  A  Whip  for  an  Ape^  stt.  7,  15. 


586  NOTES 

39.  the  Black'Stnith :  probably  Wat  Tyler. 
P.  410,  1.  the glassei  i.e.  the  skylight. 

8.  Prosper  l>roke  his  horses,  &c. :  in  Michael  Baret's  HipponomU 
or  the  Vineyard  of  Horsemanship  (i6i8),  bk.  ii.  ch.  20  ('  Of  the  Hcad- 
straine'),  p.  71  occurs— *  For  when  Signior  Prospero,  first  came  into 
England,  he  flourished  in  fame  for  a  time,  (through  that  affectionated 
blindnes  we  are  vailed  withall,  in  exalting  strangers  for  their  strange 
fashions)  and  so,  though  he  vsed  such  tormenting  Cauezans  [Fr.  cave^omy 
It.  cavezzone^  nose-band  of  iron,  leather  or  wood,  fixed  to  the  nostril]  as 
were  more  fit  for  a  massacring  butcher  then  a  Horseman,  yet  for  all  that 
well  was  he  that  could  goe  neerest  him  in  such  Turkish  tortures :  And 
besides  those,  hee  would  haue  a  thicke  truncheon  to  beat  those 
Cauezans  into  his  nose,  the  further  to  torment  him,  as  if  Art  had  con- 
sisted in  cruell  torturing  poore  horses.' 

9.  muzroule :  Halliwell  gives  '  MusroU.  The  nose-band  of  a  horse's 
bridle.    (Fr,)  Still  in  use.' 

portmouth  :  '  I  presume,  a  kind  of  twitch '  (Saintsbury). 

14.  cuckingstoole :  or  ducking-stool,  a  chair  on  the  end  of  a  plank 
for  immersing  scolds  or  disorderly  women. 

15.  Bishops  English  :  The  iust  censure,  &c.  devotes  a  paragraph  on 
C  4  to  this  subject,  e.  g. '  the  bishops  English  is  to  wrest  our  language  in 
such  sorte,  as  they  will  drawe  a  meaning  out  of  our  English  wordes,  which 
the  nature  of  the  tongue  can  by  no  meanes  beare,'  &c 

17.  his  fiowting  croscloath :  Halliwell  (in  Nares)  gives  *  Cross-doth. 
A  kerchief,  or  cloth  to  wrap  round  the  head  or  bosom.  *'  A  crosse-cloath, 
as  they  tearme  it,  a  powting-cloth,  plagula.''  IVithoTs  Dictionaries  ed. 
1680,  p.  275  "  Thy  crossecloth  is  not  pinned  right  before."  Cranlefs 
Amanda^  p.  33.'  In  Euphues^  ii.  63  1.  26  Iffida  is  described  as  walking 
in  a  gallery  *  w^  hir  frowning  doth,  as  sick  lately  of  the  solens.' 

19.  mubble  fubblesi  a  cant  term  for  causeless  depression.  Nares 
quotes  Lyly's  Midas,  v.  2. 104  '  now  euerie  base  companion,  beeing  in  his 
mublefubles,  sayes  he  is  melancholy';  and  Gayton's  Festivous  Notes, 
p.  46  '  Whether  Jupiter  was  not  joviall,  nor  Sol  in  his  mubblefiibbles,  that 
is  long  douded,*  &c 

20.  Here  .  .  .  appeared  olde  Martin :  i.  e.  at  this  point  in  Lyl/s 
composition  of  the  tract  was  issued  The  Protestatyon^  which  he  proceeds 
to  criticize. 

25.  haundngi  tilting.  Halliwell  gives  ' //ai//ir^.  To  raise,  to  exalt. 
A.-N.'  and  quotes  in  his  ed.  of  Nares,  s.  v. '  hanced,'  an  instance  from  '  Tay- 
lors Workes  *  of  its  use  in  the  sense  of  *  intoxicated.'    Cf.  our  *  elevated.' 

29.  in  two  sheetes :  The  Protestatyon  does  actually  contain  16  leaves 
small  80. 

35.  abi  in  malam  crucem :  '  go  and  be  hanged,'  frequent  in  Plautus» 
also  Ter.  Phorm,  ii.  3.  21. 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  587 

39.  the  holie  maid  of  Kent*.  Elizabeth  Barton,  who  settled  in  1527  in 
a  cell  of  the  Priory  of  St.  Sepulchre  at  Canterbury.  She  was  credited 
with  prophetic  gifts,  and  was  instigated  to  prophesy  against  the  divorce 
of  Catharine  of  Arragon.  When  Cranmer  became  archbishop  he  obtained 
confession  of  her  frauds,  and  she  was  executed  at  Tyburn,  Ap.  20,  1534. 

P.  411,  13.  oj  though  hee  should  bee  a  martin    see  Protestatyon^ 
pp.  5,  14, 

14.  burnt  seauen  yeares  agoe :  referring  perhaps  to  Whitgift's  per- 
secution of  the  Puritans  on  his  accession  to  the  archiepiscopate  in  1583. 

16.  surgeans  caliuer\  explained  by  the  context  as  a  syringe. 

18.  the  curtail  wrinches :  a  curtail  was  a  docked  horse,  and  the  con- 
text shows  '  wrinch  *  to  be  the  same  as  '  winch  *  or  *  wince.* 

22.  bea :  i.  e.  baa!  as  in  Sudeley^  vol.  i.  481  1.  11. 
Jlockes:   an  inferior  kind  of  wool,  used  to  stuff  mattresses.    Lyly 
puns  on  the  word  in  Midas ,  iv.  2.  61. 

26.  Shepheards  tarre-boxi  must  mean  the  Bishops'  prisons. 

29.  they  bee  all  in  celarent  .  .  .  ferio :  no  distinction  meant  between 
these  two  perfect  moods  of  the  syUogism :  merely  a  pun  on  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  Latin  words. 

33.  Ora  whine  meg :  Protestatyon^  p.  26.  Laneham's  letter  on  the 
Kenilworth  Festivities  quotes  '  Over  a  whinny  Meg  *  as  the  first  words  of 
an  old  ballad  (Dyce's  Skelton,  ii.  340,  quoted  by  J.  P.). 

34.  shaking  of  the  sheetes :  *  the  name  of  an  old  dance,  often  men- 
tioned with  a  double  entendre  by  our  early  dramatists,'  J.  P. 

39.  best  subiects  .  .  .  Martinists :  Protestatyon^  P*  25. 

41.  Meets  .  .  .  subiects :  as  Euph,  ii.  208  1.  36. 
P.  412, 1.  wet . .  ,feete  . . .  not  care  how  deepe  they  wade :    Euph.  ii.  6 
L  II ;  Sudeley^  i.  483,  &c. 

3.  racked :  H  alii  well  gives  it  as  a  pace  between  trot  and  amble. 

5.  souterlie :  cobbler's.  The  allusion  is  to  the  few  lines  on  the  last 
page  of  the  Protestatyon^  which  profess  to  be  a  list  of  '  faults  escaped,'  in 
which  allusion  is  made  to  Dean  BuUen's  dog  '  Spring.'  George  Boleyn 
was  dean  of  Lichfield  from  1576  to  his  death  in  Jan.  1602-3 :  his  opposi- 
tion in  1582  and  1583  to  the  exactions  of  his  bishop  (Overton)  is  recorded 
in  Strype's  Ufe  of  IVhitgifty  i.  208. 

10.  sliues :  cuts,  slices.  ME.  sylvyn^  '  cleave '  {Prompt.  Parv.) : 
from  it  slive,  sb.,  with  diminutive  sliver.  Cf.  Protestatyon^  p.  31  'I  so 
sliued  Dick  Bancroft  ouer  the  shoulders.' 

talboothe  .  .  .  vulnerall  sermon  .  .  .  the  Epistle :  the  Protestatyon^ 
pp.  24-31  professes  to  give  an  account  of  the  contents  of  the  Martinist 
tract  More  workefor  Cooper^  which  was  seized  during  the  printing  of  it 
at  Newton  Lane  near  Manchester  in  Aug.  1589.  The  funeral  sermon 
alluded  to  was  preached  by  '  olde  Lockwood  of  Sarum '  on  the  sudden 
death  of  Dr.  Peme.     Talboothe  is  probably  the  Edinburgh  prison. 


588  NOTES 

12.  olde  Ape  .  .  .  new  tricks  ouer  the  chaine :  i.  e.  to  leap  over  it 
at  one  name,  or  sign,  and  to  refuse  at  another,  &c.  In  Wanton  in  the 
Mooney  v.  I.  21  (note),  Pandora  addresses  Gunophilus  as  an  ape  *  Ouer  the 
chayne,  Jacke  ! ' 

15.  roage\  cf.  1.  33  *a  roaging  foole.'     The  Century  Diet,  gives  it  as 

*  to  wander,'  *  to  tramp,'  and  quotes  *  Yf  ho-  be  but  once  taken  so  idlyc 
roging,  he  may  punnish  him  more  lightlye,  as  with  stockes  or  such  like/ 
Spenser's  StcUe  of  Ireland, 

19.  writes  merely^  &c. :  writes  merrily,  &c.  This  defence  of  Martin's 
ribald  style  occurs  in  Hay  any  Worke^  p.  33  *  perceiuing  the  humors  of 
men  in  these  times  (especially  of  those  that  are  in  any  place)  to  be  given 
to  mirth,*  &c. 

23.  glicks  and  girds :  *  jests  and  sarcasms,'  J.  P. 

24.  another  Scogen :  not  Henry  Scogan,  Lord  Haviles,  and  tutor  of 
Henry  IV's  sons,  to  whom  Chaucer  about  1393  addressed  the  Lenvoy  a 
Scogan ;  but  John  Scogan,  fool  to  Edward  IV,  fl.  148a  His  *  jests '  pro- 
fess to  be  compiled  by  the  physician  Dr.  Andrew  Boorde,  who  died  1549. 

*  The  geystes  of  Skoggon  gathered  together  in  this  volume '  were  licensed 
to  Thomas  Colwell  1565-6,  but  the  earliest  surviving  ed.  is  of  1626.  Qi, 
Whip  for  an  Ape,  1.  56  *  Whose  cause  must  be  by  Scoggins  iests  main- 
tainde.' 

39.  tedd  abroad  ,  .  .  forhe  .  .  .  rahe :  *  to  tedd '  is  to  spread  hay. 
Cf.  Euph,  ii.  16  1. 1  '  tedding  that  with  a  forke  in  one  yeare,  which  was  not 
gathered  together  with  a  rake  in  twentie,'  and  Mother  Bombie,  i.  3.  186-7. 

A\,  foure  6r*  twentie  orders  of  knaues:  the  Liber  VagcUorum,  edited 
by  Martin  Luther  in  1528  and  translated  by  J.  C.  Hotten  i860,  devotes 
28  chapters  to  28  several  orders  of  mendicant  rogues, '  for  there  are  xx 
ways,  et  ultra,  whereby  men  are  cheated  and  fooled,'  p.  8. 
P.  413,  1.  saist  thou  art  vnmarried :  cf.  Protestaiyon  (?). 

3.  cannot  cdfide.  Good  Lord  deliver  vs :  alluding  to  the  Puritan  dislike 
of  the  Litany. 

9.  Moldwarpe :  a  mole,  alluding  to  Martin's  anonymity. 

14.  Pasquil  .  .  .  Hues  of  the  Saints :  Countercuffe  (A  i  verso)  *  Pas- 
quill  hath  posted  very  dilligently  ouer  all  the  Realme,  to  gather  some  fruit- 
full  Volume  of  the  lives  of  the  saints,'  i.e.  scandal  about  the 
Martinists. 

21.  old  cutter  at  the  locke  :  Halliwell  gives  a  phrase  *  to  be  at  his  old 
lock  =  to  follow  his  old  practices,'  and  perhaps  this  is  the  same  use, 
meaning  *  old  hand  at  cutting.' 

Nam  mihi  sunt  vires ,  &c. :  Ov.  Her.  xvi.  352. 

28.  first  venew  :  *  venue '  is  an  assault  or  attack  in  fencing,  &c.  The 
phrase,  like  the  exordium  *  Room,'  &c.,  may  be  taken  as  e\ndence  that 
Pappe  is  Lyly's  first  contribution. 

30.  fleech :  *  turn  or  bout,'  J.  P. 


PAPPE  WITH  AN   HATCHET  589 

32.  Maiachine;  'It  was  well  known  in  France  and  Italy,  by  the 
name  of  the  dance  of  fools  or  matachins^  who  were  habited  in  short 
jackets,  with  gilt  paper  helmets,  long  streamers  tied  to  their  shoulders, 
and  bells  to  their  legs.  They  carried  in  their  hands  a  sword  and  buckler, 
with  which  they  made  a  clashing  noise,  and  performed  various  quick  and 
sprightly  evolutions,'  Douce,  Illustrations  of  Shakespeare  ^  ii.  435  (J.  P.). 

A  WHIP  FOR  AN  APE. 

P.  418,  1.  Dizard;  actor,  dancer,  *fool.*  The  N.  E.  D.  regards  it  as 
a  modification  of  earlier  disour,  a  professional  story-teller. 

11.  Martin  Marr-als  face:  the  earliest  instance  of  the  name. 
Dryden's  comedy.  Sir  Martin  Marrally  1667,  was  an  adaptation  of  an 
earlier  play  called  Sir  Martin  Marplot, 

13.  moppes  and  mowes :  grimaces  and  wry  faces.  Generally  together, 
as  of  Prosperous  sprites.  Tempest,  iv.  47  *  with  mop  and  mow.'  Also  as 
verbs,  variant  of  or  allied  to  mock^  and  of  Dutch  origin  (Skeat). 

16.  States',  higher  orders  of  men,  as  in  lines  47,  103. 

20.  a  Woodcocke  tries :  proves  himself  a  woodcock ;  often  as  emblem 
of  stupidity,  e.  g.  Z.  Z.  Z.  iv.  3.  82  *  four  woodcocks  in  a  dish,'  of  the  four 
anchorites  in  love. 

23.  passe :  care  (always  with  negative) ;  only  once  in  Shakespeare 
(2  Henry  VI,  iv.  2.  136).  It  may  result  from  a  confusion  oi  pass  as  (i) 
disregard,  (2)  sanction  (cf.  the  opposed  intr.  uses  (i)  scrape  throughf 
(2)  excel),  i.e.  the  appearance  of  later  favourable  senses  led  to  the  addition 
of  a  negative  to  express  the  disfavour  properly  inherent  in  the  word ;  but 
a  more  simple  explanation  is  *  budge,*  *  stir,'  *  be  altered  or  affected  by.' 

25.  Such  fleering,  leering,  iarring.  Sec  :  cf.  Marprelate's  Epistle, 
p.  12  led.  Arber),  *  Fleering  I  iering  |  leering:  there  is  at  all  no  sence  in 
this  period.' 

26.  weehees :  the  accepted  representation  of  a  horse's  neigh.  Moth, 
Bomb.  iv.  2.  194,  of  the  hired  hack  *  hee  neither  would  cry  wyhie^  nor 
wag  the  taile.' 

28.  roysters  ray.  Halliwell  gives  ray  (i)  a  kind  of  dance,  (4)  array, 
order ;  either  of  which  will  do  here. 

29.  catch :  breath. 

33.  Dame  Lawsens  lustie  lay.  alluding  to  an  encounter  between 
Aylmer,  Bishop  of  London,  and  the  famous  shrew  and  virago  Meg 
Lawson,  in  which  his  lordship  came  off  worst,  as  related  in  Marprelate's 
Epistle,  pp.  10- 1 1  (ed.  Arber). 

34.  Sir  leffries  ale  tub :  alluding  to  the  story  told  in  Marprelate's 
Epistle,  p.  38,  that  Sir  Geoffrey  Jones,  a  clergyman  in  Warwickshire, 
having  sworn  an  oath  not  to  go  to  the  alehouse  again,  evaded  it  by  getting 
his  man  to  carry  him  thither  on  his  back. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST   LINES   OF    SONGS 

AND    POEMS. 


PLAYS. 

Arme,  arme,  the  Foe  comes  on  apace  . 
Cvpid  and  my  Campaspe  playd    . 

FvU  hard  I  did  sweate 

Here  snores  Tophas 

In  Pactolus  goe  bathe  thy  wish,  and  thee     . 
16  Bacchus  !  To  thy  Table   .... 

'Las !  how  long  shall  I 

Merry  Knaues  are  we  three-a 

My  Daphne's  Haire  is  twisted  Gold 

My  shag-haire  Cyclops,  come,  lets  ply 

O  cruell  Loue  !  on  thee  I  lay 

O  Cupid  !  Monarch  ouer  Kings    . 

O  for  a  Bowie  of  fatt  Canary 

O  my  Teeth  !  deare  Barber  ease  me    . 

O  yes,  O  yes,  if  any  Maid     . 

Pan's  Syrinx  was  a  Girle  indeed  . 

Pinch  him,  pinch  him,  blacke  and  blue 

Rockes,  shelues,  and  sands,  and  Seas,  farewell 

Sing  to  Apollo,  God  of  Day  .... 

Stand  :  Who  goes  there  ?      .        .        .        . 

Stesias  hath  a  white  hand     .... 

The  Bride  this  Night  can  catch  no  cold 

Weigh  not  in  one  ballance  gold  and  iustice . 

Were  I  a  man  I  could  loue  thee    . 

What  Bird  so  sings,  yet  so  dos  wayle       .     . 

When  Pan  Apollo  in  musick  shall  excell 


vol.  page 
(Safih.  &*  Ph,  iii.  2)  ii.  39$ 
(Camp.  iii.  5)  ii.  343 

(Moth,  Bomb,  iii.  4)  iii.  201 
(Endim.  iii.  3)  iii.   45 

(Oracle,  Mui,  ii.  2)  iii.  123 
(Moth,  Bomb,  ii.  i)  iii.  187 
(Mid,  V.  2)  iii.  154 

(Saph,  6r*  Ph,  ii.  3)  ii.  388 
(Mid,  iv.  i)  iii.  142 

(Saph,  6r*  Ph.  iv.  4)  iL  409 
(Saph.  dr*  Ph,  iii.  3)  ii.  399 
(Moth,  Bomb,  iii.  3)  iii.  198 
(Ca?np,  \,  2)  ii.  322 

(Mid,  iii.  2)  iii.  136 

(Gall,  iv.  2)  ii.  458 

(Mid,  iv.  i)  iii.  142 

(Endim.  iv.  3)  iii.    59 

(Gall,  i.  4)  ii.  438 

(Mid,  V.  3)  iii.  161 

(Endim,  iv.  2)  iii.    58 

(Woman^  v.  i)  iii.  281 

(Moth,  Bomb,  v.  3)  iii.  218 
(Oracle— iV/V/.  v.  3)  iii.  160 
( IVomaftf  iii.  2)  iii.  261 

(Camp,  V.  i)  ii.  351 

(Oracle— iV/V/.  v.  3)  iii.  158 


SONGS  MISSING  FROM  PLAYS,  THOUGH  NOTED 

IN  TEXT. 

Campaspe,  v.  3. 38  by  Milectus,  Phrygius  and  Lais  (cf. vol.  iii.  p.  469)  ii.  353 

Endimion,  ii.  3.  40  *  the  inchantment  for  sleepe '  (cf.  vol.  iii.  p.  470)  iii.    39 

„         iii.  4.  1  by  Geron      ....   (cf.  vol.  iii.  p.  470)  iii.    47 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 


S93 


vol,  page 
iii.  217 

iii.  243 


Mother  Bombie^  v.  3.  21  *  The  Loue  Knot '  ... 

Woman  in  Moone^  i.  i.  54  *  a  roundelay  in  praise  of  Nature ' 
)f  i.  I.  224  by  the  Shepherds  to  calm  Pandora 

(cf.  vol.  iii.  p.  471)    iii.  248 
Loves  Metamorphosis^  i.  2.  57  by  the  Nymphs    ....     iii.  304 

iii.  I.  135  by  Niobe  and  Silvestris      .        .    iii.  313 
iv.  2.  44,  48  by  the  Syren    .        .        .        .    iiL  322 


If 


ENTERTAINMENTS. 

Aoniis  prior,  &  Diuis  es  pulchrior  alti  (Elvetham) 

Beauties  rose,  and  Vertues  booke  [Harefield) 

Behold  her  lockes  like  wiers  of  beaten  gold  (Cowdray) 

Cynthia  Queene  of  Seas  and  lands  {Harefield)     . 

Elisa  is  the  fairest  Queene  {Elvetham) 

Faire  Cinthia  the  wide  Oceans  Empresse  {Elvetham) 

Faire  Daphne  staye,  too  chaste  because  too  faire  {Sudeley) 

Fortune  must  now  noe  more  in  tryumphe  ride  (The  Lots — 

Harefield) 

Happie  houre,  happie  daie  {Quarrendon)     .... 
Hearbes,  wordes,  and  stones,  all  maladies  haue  cured  {Sudeley) 
His  Golden  lockes  Time  hath  to  Siluer  tum'd  (Tiltyard)     . 
How  haps  that  now,  when  prime  is  don  {Elvetham)    , 

1  Loricus,  Bodie  sicke  {Quarrendon) 

I  that  abide  in  places  vnder  ground  (Aureola  in  Elvetham) 

I  was  a  giants  daughter  of  this  isle  (legend  on  the  box,  Theobalds) 

If  euerie  loy  now  had  a  tongue  {King's  Welcome) 

In  the  merrie  moneth  of  May  {Elvetham)     .... 

Let  fame  describe  your  rare  perfection  {Sudeley)  . 

My  hart  and  tongue  were  twinnes,  at  once  conceaued  {Sudeley) 

Now  drowsie  sleepe,  death's  image,  ease's  prolonger  {Quarrendon) 

Nupcr  ad  Aonium  flexo  dum  poplite  fontem  {Elvetham) 

O  come  againe  faire  Natures  treasure  {Elvetham) 

O  see  sweet  Cynthia,  how  the  watry  gods  {Elvetham) 

Sing  you,  plaie  you,  but  sing  and  play  my  truth  (Sudeley) 

Sweet  Joe  vouchsafe  once  to  impart  {King*s  Welcome) 

Swel  Ceres  now,  for  other  Gods  are  shrinking  {Bisham) 

Sylvanus  comes  from  out  the  leauy  groaues  {Elvetham) 

Tell  me,  O  Nymphes,  why  do  you  {Harefield) 

Th*  ancient  Readers  of  Heauens  Booke  {Tiltyard) 

The  fish  that  seeks  for  food  in  siluer  streame  {Cowdray) 

There  is  a  bird  that  builds  her  neast  with  spice  {Cowdray) 

To  that  Grace  that  sett  us  free  {Quarrendon) 

BOND    III  Q    () 


445 

495 

4«3 

499 
450 

442 
479 


5C0 

463 
482 

411 

443 
467 

449 
418 

505 

447 
480 

479 
455 
435 
451 
451 
479 
507 
.476 

444 

497 
.414 

.429 

.  426 

I  458 


594 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 


When  Neptune  late  bestowed  on  me  this  barke  {Eiveiham) 
While  at  the  fountaine  of  the  sacred  hill  (Elvetham)    . 
With  fragrant  flowers  we  strew  the  way  {Elvetham)     . 

Missing. 

*  Another  song  sung  of  farewell  *  (Kin^s  Welcome) 

*  Two  Sonnets '  (Rycoie) 


POEMS  (DOUBTFUL). 

A  seeing  friend,  yet  enemie  to  rest 

A  Womans  looks 

Al  ye  whom  loue  or  fortune  hath  betraide    . 

As  oft  we  see  before  a  sudden  showre  . 

By  wracke  late  driuen  on  shore,  from  Cupids  Crare 

Come,  giue  me  needle,  stitch  cloth,  silke  &  chaire 

Come  heauy  sleepe,  y*  Image  of  true  death  . 

Come  Hue  with  mee,  and  be  my  deere  . 

Compare  the  Bramble  with  the  Cedar  tree  . 

Councell  w°^  afterward  is  soughte 

Declare,  O  minde,  from  fond  desires  excluded  (A 

Farewell  false  loue,  the  oracle  of  lyes   . 

Farewell  too  faire,  too  chaste  but  too  too  cruell 

Feede  still  thy  selfe,  thou  fondling  with  beliefe 

Fond  wanton  youths  make  loue  a  God 

Had  doting  Priam  checkt  his  sonnes  desire . 

Hero  care  not  though  they  prie     . 

Hey  downe  a  downe  did  Dian  sing 

How  can  he  rule  well  in  a  common  wealth  . 

I  feare  not  death,  feare  is  more  paine    . 

I  saw  my  Lady  weepe 

I  smile  to  see  how  you  devise 

I  will  not  soare  aloft  the  skye 

If  all  the  Earthe  were  paper  white 

If  all  the  world  and  loue  were  young     . 

If  fathers  knew  but  how  to  leaue  . 

If  fluds  of  teares  could  cleanse  my  follies  past 

In  lingeringe  Loue  mislikinge  growes   . 

In  Thesaly,  ther  Asses  fine  are  kept     . 

In  thy  weake  hiue  a  wandering  waspe  hath  crept 

It  was  a  tyme  when  silly  Bees  could  speake  {The  Bee) 

Lie  downe  poore  heart  and  die  a  while  for  griefe  . 

Life  is  a  Poets  fable 

Like  to  a  Hermite  poore  in  place  obscure     . 


Counterloue) 


vol.pagt 
.      L446 

.      i-437 

•      i.439 


i.507 
i.489 


ni.  477 
iii.  4S5 
iii.  492 
iii.  498 
iii.  475 
iii.  473 
iii  492 
iii.  481 

iii.  483 
iii.  452 
iii.  476 
iii.  471 
iii.  485 
iii.  473 
iii.  486 
iii  502 
iii.  488 
iii.  479 
iii.  449 
iii.  451 
iii.  471 
iii.  468 
iii.  451 
iii.  453 
iii.  480 
iii.  490 
iii.  484 
iii.  463 
iii.  498 
iii.  502 
iii.  494 
iii.  501 
iii.  501 
iii.  470 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 

Moste  miserable  man,  whome  wretched  fate 

My  thoughts  are  wingde  with  hopes,  my  hopes  with  loue 

No  place  commendes  the  man  vn worth ie  praise   . 

O  happ  moste  harde  where  truthe  doth  most  beguyle 

O  loath  that  Loue  whose  fynall  ayme  is  Lust 

Once  did  I  loue  and  yet  I  Hue      .... 

Ouer  theise  brookes,  trustinge  to  ease  myne  eyes 

Praisd  be  Dianas  faire  and  harmles  light 

Praise  blindnesse  eies,  for  seeing  is  deceit   . 

Princes  be  fortunes  children,  &  with  them    . 

Quod  mihi  quoque  die  Veneris  mare  praebeat  escam 

Short  is  my  rest,  whose  toile  is  ouerlong 

Sing  wee  and  chaunt  it 

Sleepe,  Deathes  alye,  obliuion  of  teares 

Soare  I  will  not,  in  flighte  the  grounde  ile  see 

*  Softe  fire  makes  sweete  mault,*  they  say     . 

Some  men  will  saye  there  is  a  kynde  of  muse 

The  brainsicke  race  that  wanton  youth  ensues 

The  fountaines  smoake,  and  yet  no  flames  they  shewe 

The  lofty  trees  whose  braunches  make  sweete  shades 

The  lowest  Trees  haue  tops,  the  Ante  her  gall     . 

The  moone  beeing  clouded  presently  is  mist 

The  statelie  pine  whose  braunches  spreade  so  faire 

The  thundringe  God  whose  all-embracinge  powre 

Those  eies  that  holds  the  hand  of  euery  hart 

Those  eies  which  set  my  fancie  on  a  fire 

Though  men  can  cover  crime  with  bold  steme  lookes 

Vrbe  tot  in  Veneta,  scortorum  miUia  cur  sunt 

What  liquor  first  the  earthen  pot  doth  take  . 

When  I  behoulde  the  trees  in  the  earthes  fayre  lyuerye  clothed 

When  I  was  otherwise  then  now  I  am 

When  loue  on  time  and  measure  makes  his  ground 

When  younglyngs  first  on  Cupide  fyxe  their  sight 

Where  lingring  feare  doth  once  posses  the  hart   . 

Where  wardes  are  weake,  and  foes  encountering  strong 

Who  loues  and  would  his  suite  should  proue 

Why  . .  .  (words  wanting)     .... 

Women,  what  are  they,  changing  weather-cocks 

Ye  loving  wormes,  come  leame  of  me  . 

You  youthfuU  heads,  whose  climing  mindes 


595 

voLpage 
iii.  492 

iii.  478 

iii.  449 

iii.  469 

iii.  450 

iii.  487 

iii.  498 

iii.  478 

iii.  484 

iii.  498 

iii.  502 

iii.  477 

iii.  469 

iii.  470 

iii.  452 

»".  453 
iii.  499 

iii.  450 

iii.  490 

iii.  452 

iii.  482 

iii.  502 

iii.  455 

»"•  493 
iii.  475 

iii.  474 

iii.  502 

iii.  502 

iii.  450 

iii.  448 

iii.  472 

iii.  489 

iii.  472 

iii.  487 

iii.  491 

iii.  459 

iii.  499 

iii.  489 

iii.  465 

iii.  456 


Qq  2 


GLOSSARY 


Reference  is  to  volume,  page,  and  line.  Where  no  interpretcUion  is  gmen,  *^  m  ^ 
he  found  in  the  Notes  iy  the  reference  first  given,  or  by  that  to  rvkich  *  note  *  is 
appended ;  or  it  is  unneeded,  A  few  words,  e,g.  Anatomy,  Controwle,  Dissemble, 
Mislyke,  Peevish,  Personage,  Quesie,  Successe,  are  used  by  Ly/y  in  the  modem 
sense,  as  well  as  in  that  here  given. 


Abate,  blunt,  il  454.  lo,  468.  47. 
Abicct,  outcast,  i.  300.  30*  "•  ^^S.  36, 

iii.  411.  41. 
Aboade,  prophesy,  i.  435.  7. 
Absolute,  perfect,  ii.  336.  7,  37a.  13. 
Accusiomable,  i.  217.  31,  ii.  129.  9»  '44' 

15.    Customable,  grounded  on  custom, 

ii.  195.  7. 
Adamant,  magnet,  i.  321.  2,  ii.  iii.  35. 
Adde  to,  incline  to,  ii.  457.  25. 
Aducnturcs,  at  all,  chance  how  it  might, 

ii.  136.  20. 

Acgyptian,  gipsy,  ii.  98.  25. 
Affects,  affections,  disposition,  ii.  22.  34, 

140.  26,  333.  12. 
All  to  (adv.),  all  over,  iii.  395.  3,  404. 

34- 

Allude  to  (tr.),  ii.  334-  24- 

Alter,  change,  refresh,  ii.  54.  24.  Con- 
trast Fr.  alt^rer,  to  make  thirsty. 

Alteration,  distemper,  i.  204.  35. 

Amiable  (of  beauty),  i.  214.  14,  ii.  59. 
8,65.  5,  82.4,  135-  ^&c. 

Amisse  (sb.),  ill,  iii.  274.  151. 

Amort,  iii.  155.  99. 

Anatomy,  diagram,  descriptive  plan,  i. 
180.  6,  iii.  307.  25. 

Another  gate,  another  kind  of,  iii.  1 77. 
12. 

Apple-squier,  iii.  350.  23. 

Argent,  money,  i.  aojg.  16. 

Argue  from  a  place,  ii.  387.  6a. 

Argue  of,  accuse  of,  i.  236.  22. 

Armoury,  arms  (heraldic),  ii.  99.  25, 
340.  92. 

Arrant,  arrande,  errand,  ii.  no.  13, 

221.9,374.41- 
A  slake,  i.  307.  5,  iii.  30.  40. 
Assayes,  at  all,  ii.  58.  1 5. 
Assoyle,  iii.  369.  89. 
Assure,  affiance,  betroth,  i.  228.  29,  ii. 

220.  32,  223.   32,  iii.  22a.   196.     So 

assurance,  ii.  ai8.  31. 


Astrologian,  astronomer,  i.  272.  35. 
Astronomer  in  mad,  sense,  ii.  86.  ao; 

K  astrologer,  45  a.  38. 
AttcLch,  take  prisoner,  i.  313.  9. 
Attonement,  reconciliation,  ii.  146.  5. 
Auoide,  empty,  quit,  ii.  398.  80,  iii.  56. 

7'. 

Bable,  bauble,  iiL  43.  41,  154.  61,  40a 

32. 
Baby,  doll,  iii.  34.  30  ;    fairy,  iii.  63. 

166. 

Backare,  iii.  119.  4. 

Bale,  pair  (of  dice),  iii.  359.  26. 

Ballance  (pi.),  iii.  117.  50,  118.  93. 

Bandora,  i.  450.  1 1  note. 

Banket  (banquet),  dessert,  light  refec- 
tion with  wine,  i.  448.  33  ;  (vb.)  I 
199.  15,  iii.  188,  30  (to  drink  nips). 

Bare  (sb.),  naked  flesh,  iii.  476.  31  ;Cf. 
King  and  no  ICing,  li.  i.  193). 

Barly  breake,  iii.  158.  13,  457.  19. 

Batfowling,  ii.  453.  43. 

Bauin,  i.  a  18.  32,  &c. 

Bayte,  refreshment,  rest,  L  333.  9,  vl 

35. 9-       . 
Bear  a  white  mouth,  1.  181.  16  note, 

ii.  31.  14,  83.  10,  334.  36. 
Beetle,  hammer,  iii.  394. 11 ;  (adj.)  iii. 

66,  403.  10 ;    (adj.)  OTerhanging,  iii. 

410.  18. 
Biggin,  nightcap,  iii.  399.  39. 
Bill,  a  hedger's  tool,   i.    180.   28;  a 

weapon,  ii.  106.  13,  iii.  58.  3. 
Bite  hot  on,  border  on,  iii.  173.  9. 
Blcuke  Oxe  treade  on  their  foote,  L  303. 

7,  ii.  404.  31,  iiL  330.  I3<x 
Blanch,  head  back,  ii.  440.  39. 
Blanche  (scholastic),  failure  to  reply  in 

argument,  i.  209.  22. 
Blast,  withered   or  fruitless   sprout,  L 

3>7-  5.  32a.  9,  325.  U,  30.  iii-  >2^ 
109.    So  to  blast  (intr.),  ii.  33.  13. 


GLOSSARY 


S97 


BleerCy  ii.  460.  5. 
BUrt!  iii.  137.  la. 

Bob  (sb.),  ii.   335'  40>    iii-  398-  ^3 » 

(vb.)  iii.  186.  100. 
Bodkin,  dagger,  i.   356.  13,  503.  aa, 

ii.  a8.  I  a,  385.  5,  iii.  186.  109 ;  bodkin 

beard,  iii.  43.  35,  133.  39. 
Boordes,  jests,  iii.  454.  38 ;  cf.  iu  103. 

3a  (?),  but  also  iii.  189.  30,  ii.  34.  35, 

105.  6. 
Bord  and  cord,  i.  448.  16. 
Bottle  (of  hay),  truss,  iii.  a  13.  180. 
Boult,  winnow,  iii.  408.  13. 
Bouse,  booze,  iii.  4a6.  9a. 
Brabble,  brawl,  iii.  a  17.  19. 
Bracke,  break,  flaw  (in  velvet),  i.  179. 

ao,  184.  17,  a7i.  35. 
Brawnefallen,  i.  a63.  a7,  307.  30,  iii. 

59.  16. 
Breaching  {zA],),  iii.  a8a.  lao. 
Breast,  voice,  ii.  451.  18. 
Brewys,  brewish,  i.  a 56.  33,  iii.  aoa. 

lOI. 

Brinch,  iii.  186.  ia7. 

Broad-siiich,  iii.  179.  87. 

Broken,  torn,  i.  i8a.  6. 

B roomy,  stubbly  (of  a  beard),  i.  480.  5. 

Bullau  (pi.),  iii.  368.  53. 

Bumfege  (vb.),  iii.  4a6.  9a. 

BurboU,  birdbolt,  iii.  a8.  68,  a6.  5  note. 

Bum  ones  cap^  iii.  368.  6a. 

Bushell  of  salt  with,  to  eate  a,  i.  197. 

18,  a47.  9. 
Buske  poynt,  iii.  359.  40. 
Busky,  bosky,  iii.  ao8.  a 87. 
Buy,  the^  the  bye,  side-issue,  i.  345.  16, 

ii.  188.  7. 
Bytter,  bittern,  i.  449.  8,  iii.  44.  56 

note,  45.  96. 

Caddys,  i.  a 34.  4,  ii.  9.  ai. 
Calamance,  iii.  147.  ao. 
Caliuer,  syringe,  iii.  411.  16. 
Cammocke,  i.  196.  i,  ii.  33.  ai,  391. 

108,  iii  41.  37,  450.  15,  &c. 
Canckred,  infected,  i.  193.  13. 
Caper,  privateer,  ii.  439.  97. 
Carbonado,  ii.  385.  ai. 
Carp  (tr.),  ii.  4.  ai ;  c£  i.  4a8. 17. 
Carren,  carrion,  ii.  157.  34. 
Carsie,  ii.  199.  33. 

Carte,  to  the,  to  the  gallows,  i.  375.  7. 
Carterly,  i.  190.  a8. 
Cctse^  pair,  iii.  186.  loS,  359.  19. 
Cast,  specimen,  iii.  3a8.  396. 
Ccut,  consider,  ii.  133.  3,  iii.  35.  85, 

19a.  18.     Cast  beyonde  the  Moone^  i. 

aaa.  31,  ii.  15a.  37,  iii.  188.  6. 
Catch,  breath,  iii.  418.  a^. 
Cater  cap^  coUege^ap,  iii.  399.  18. 


Cater-tray  (dice),  iii.  399.  17. 

Caule,  i.  aio.  7  (cf.  ii.  155.  33),  iii.  lai. 

77.  386.  153. 
Ceeue  of,  iii.  ai.  33. 
Censer,  censure,  opinion,  ii.  94.  6. 
Chamber,  small  cannon,  i.  440.  4,  448. 

23- 

Chatting  (of  birds),  i,  491. 19,  ii.  315.  3. 
Chaundrie,  i.  43a.  a8. 
Chaunge  ones  coppie^  i.  334.  31,  336, 

18,  ii.  433.  30. 
Chestes,  diess,  ii.  16a.  36,  i.  484.  37,  iii. 

395-  5. 

Chicken  peeper,  iii.  69.  31. 
Chirk,  chirp,  i.  401.  18. 
Chiuer,  iii.  419.  08. 
Chiuerell,  doeskin,  iii.  407.  36. 
Choakpeare,  gag,  iii.  149.  81. 
Chrysocolla,  iL  138.  10,  195.  31,  410. 

31. 

Chuffe,  miserly  churl,  iii.  456.  13. 
Citteme^  gitteme,  guitar,  i.  450.  1 1,  iiL 

133.  35»  142-  »o7- 
Clap  hands  J  conclude  a  bargain,  ii.  3x8. 

33. 
Claw,  sooth,  ii.  60. 15,  135.  35,  143.  33. 

Clocue,  response  (fig.   from  music),  i. 

314.  7. 

Closing,  embrace,  iii.  476.  35. 
Cloth  of  estate,  ii.  343.  33. 
Cockeringe,  i.  187.  13,  343.  14,  350.  35, 

iii.  176.  37.     Cockney,  spoiled  child, 

i.  344,  17. 
Cog,  cheat,  ii.  378,  39,  iii.  178.  36,  449. 

15- 
Colde  as  a  clock,  i.  347.  3. 

ColewortCf  cabbage,  ii.  154.  17. 

Collop,  slice,  offspring,  iii.  183.  173. 

Comming  (sb.),  complaisance,  ii.  141. 

38.    So  coming  (adj.),  iii.  189.  14. 
Compasse,  calculation,  i.  335.  7. 
Compasse,  to  sleepe,  ii.  58.  a.     To  lyue 

compcuse,  ii.  96.  1 3. 
Concaue,  sphere  (Ptol.),  iii.  343.  6. 
Conduct,  conduit,  iii.  116.  8. 
Confer,  compare,  ii.  105.  31,  &c 
Consent,  harmony,  ii.  338.  50,  &c. 
Consort,  company,  iii.  419.  53. 
Const er,  construe,  i.  456.  15,  &c.    So 

construction,  W,  139.  37. 
Contemplature,  ii.  51.  3. 
Contrary  (vb.),  ii.  341.  lao. 
ConirowU,r€i}vk.t,  i.  190.  16,  306.  33, 

ii.  178.  6,  iii.  410.  5. 
Conuey,  contrive,  iii.  183.  18.    So  con- 

ueiaunce,  ii.  410.  15. 
Cony-gat,  i.  418.  16. 
CookemcUCf  cockmate,  i.  308.  a,  378.  33, 

380.  I. 
Copheigth,  on,  i.  435.  33. 


598 


GLOSSARY 


Coroiiuest  i.  24I.  17,  253.  23,  285.  32, 

ii.  444.  94,  &c. 
Comutef  iii.  266.  213. 
Cosinne  off  to  make  a,  to  cozen,  ii.  21. 

22. 
Co/et  comment,  ii.  51.  28 ;  quote,  ii.  93. 

33- 
Cotton  (vb.),  ii.  340.  117,  iii.  207.  81, 

210.  84. 

Couin,  iii.  157.  163. 
Counterfaitey  portrait,  i.  179.  20,  181. 

8,  ii.  3.  13,  &c.    So  counterfeiting^  ii. 

3".  57- 
CounteruaiUf  i.  207.  5. 

Course  accompt  of  to  make^  i.  202.  22, 

261.  6.      Of  course^  conventional,   i. 

235.  3a  (cf.  254.  11),  ii.  141.  3. 
Coystrel^  iii.  184.  48  (see  note). 
CrahbSy  to  stamps  iii.  200.  30. 
Crake  of  i.  235.  22,  ii.  67.  8. 
Crare^  bark,  iii.  475.  19. 
Craze^  crack  slighdy,  i.  189.  22,  205. 

28,  466.  7. 

Crick-cracky  iii.  359. 33  ;  cf.  iii.  367.  11. 
Crippin,  hair-net,  iii.  121.  80. 
Crock  vp,  pot,  iii.  196.  3. 
Crosiety  crucible,  ii.  442.  10. 
Crosscloth,  i.  502.  26,  iii.  410.  17;  cf. 

ii.  63.  26. 
CrowdCy  fiddle,  ii.  328.  50.    So  croud- 

ing,  iii.  219.  78. 
Crye  creeke  or  creake,  i.  247.  4. 
Cucurbit,  ii.  143.  28,  442.  18. 
Cull,  embrace,  ii.  5.  4,  139.  9. 
Cullisy  i.  212.  16,  ii.  342.  51. 
CurCy  patient,  i.  214.  2. 
Curtolly  iii.  71.  loi.    Curtail  (sb.),  iii. 

411.  18. 
Cutter  at  the  locke,  iii.  413.  21. 

Dandle t  indulge,  spoil,  iii.  179.  60. 
Decensore,  ii.  442.  19. 
Deficy  renounce,  iii.  374.  155. 
Dehorty  dissuade,  i.  246.  28. 
Dclicatcsty  i.  185.  36. 
Dent  aty  aim  or  pierce  at,  ii.  139.  22. 
Depriuey  destroy,  i.  233.  21. 
Descry y  declare,  iii.  490.  29. 
Deskanty  harmony,  as  opposed  to  me- 
lody, i.  236.  3,  254.  23,  272.  II. 
Dicker y  set  often,  iii.  399.  22. 
DiscussCy  shake  asunder,  iii.  249.  21. 
DisordinatCy  ii.  181.  14. 
Dispence  withy  tolerate,  ii.  414.  8. 
DissembUy  conceal,  ii.  3.  17,  130.  2. 
Dissolute^  untidy,  i.  256.  23. 
Diuisiony  musical  variation,  i.  443.  20. 
Ditardy  iii.  418.  i,  148.  43. 
Dodkiny  Dutch  coin,  iii.  188.  28. 
Dogbolty  ii.  320.  8. 


DraggeSy  ii.  56.  23  note. 

Driby  ii.  453.  5. 

Drie  cuppe,  beating,  iii.  123.  141. 

Dudginy  dudgcHy  marked  with  cro$«^- 
lines,  iii.  184.  36.  DugeoHy  dudgim 
(sb.),  gravity,  diapleasore,  iiL  207.  74, 

403-  7- 
DyapeTy  variegation,  iii.  354.  56. 

Dydoppery  da^ick,  iii.  395.  7. 

Dysease  (as  general  negative  of  ease , 

i.  230.  27, 236. 16,  245.  I  a.  iii.  136. 139. 

Ectnty  yearn,  iii.  225.  297  ;  grierc,  258. 

63. 
EftsooneSy  soon  after,  ii.  25.  28. 
EiessCy  i.  249.  8. 
ElementCy  tke,  the  atmosphere,  i.  293. 

23»  3ii».  34-  n- 
EUuationy  latitude,  ii.  86.  20. 
Epacty  ii.  453.  68. 
Escapey  escapade,  fault,  i.  280.  34,  282. 

35,  ii.  213.  6. 
Espial y  spy,  ii.  26.  12,  31.  5. 
Euet^  eft,  ii.  89.  29. 
Eweryy  i.  432.  28. 
Excantationy  ii.  118.  33. 
Expire  (tr.),  i.  222.  17,  457.  21. 
Extendedy  Uy  pass  on,  operate  on  OcgaI\ 

»-457-i7- 
Eye  fully  to  drink  but  ones  (of  abstin- 
ence), it  56.  8.  Cf.  Earefuiy  ii.  200.  29, 

Faburtheny  ii.  83.  32.  [342. 

Facty  deed,  ii.  207.  34,  336. 14,  iii.  226. 
EadgCyfodgey  iii.  55.  27,  174.  40,  &c 
Falling  bande,  i.  503.  4. 
False y  break  (a  vow),  ii.  447.  33.    So 

falsory  iii.  272.  73. 

FcUse  firey  blank  cartridge,  ii.  98.  31. 

(Cf.  Ham,  iii.  2.  277). 
FangUy  i.  255.  6. 
FardUy  bundle,  iii.  398.  26. 
Farcy  prob.  faro,  iii.  449.  35. 
Fauoury  colours,  iii.  125.  8a;  features, 

look,  ii.  15.  5,  321.  67,  &c 
FeatCy  apt,  i.  195.  33. 
Feathery  cut  ay  make  a   foam  at  the 

bows,  ii.  439.  97  ;  split  a  hair  (ib.). 
Fetch  a  windlessey  ii.  51.  20. 
FUechy  flitch,  slice,  iii.  413.  30. 
FleetCy  skim,  scra]:)e,  ii.  107.  23, 
Fleetingy  fickleness,  L  197.  15,  205.  3.H, 

239.  II. 
Fletcher y  arrow -maker,  i.   180.  29,  ii- 

409-  53. 
Flewdey  iii.  147.  7. 

Flock y  lock  of  wool,  iii.  146.  61,  157. 

149,411.22. 

Foote  clothy  ii.  347.  9,  i.  507.  30,  &c. 

Forcey  make  of  force,  care  for,  i.  325. 


GLOSSARY 


599 


31,  ii.  94.  24.    No  force,  no  matter,  ii. 

48.  14. 

J-'orsloWf  neglect,  i.  266.  31. 
Foyne  'v8b.)f  thmst,  iii.  399.  20. 
Foyste,  cheat,  iii.  449.  35. 
Fraile  {pfjigges\  iii.  209.  50. 
Fretter,  kind  of  apple,  iii.  45.  loi. 
Friskett,  small  sparrow,  i.  491.  19. 
Frowning  cloth ^  ii.  63.  26.      Powting 

croS'ClocUhy  iii.  410.  17,  i.  502.  26. 
Frumpe,  taunt,  i.  237.  35,  249.  6,  &c. 
Furious f  mad,  ii.  326.  1 34. 

Galiy  mafreyy  hodge  podge,  ii.  322.  80, 

iii.  115.  18. 

Garde,  trimming,  ii.  10.  21. 
GascoinSf  iii.  209.  39. 
Gawdey  toy,  iii.  245.  109. 
Gawlded,  i.  257.  7  {gauled,  L  285.  15). 

Gall^  a  sore,  ii.  1 29.  20. 
Gate^  treasure,  iii.  432.  182. 
GecLson  (adj.),  rare,  i.  195.  19. 
Gegge,  gag.  iii.  420.  106. 
Gestures^  want^  lack  social  readiness, 

L  200.  12. 

Gigloty  iii.  222.  173,  304.  61. 
Girde  (tr.),  taunt,  ii.  183.  10;  (sb.)  ii. 

68.  34.     So  girders,  ii.  334.  30. 
Girdle,  a  rod  under  the^  iii.  34.  14,  i. 

185.  15. 
Glazewormey  glasseworme,  L  234.  14. 
Glecul,  ii.  224.  26. 
Glorious y  boastful,  ii.  82.  13. 
Glyek€y  gleekf  glicke^  i.  237.  21,  ii.  68. 

35. 

Go  by,  get  one  gone,  ii.  395.  61. 

Gods  blessing .  .  .  war  me  sunne,  i.  322. 
4»  ii*  93.  36  (opposition,  originally,  of 
those  who  entered  the  cool  cathedral 
for  service,  and  those  who  sat  on  the 
alebench  outside?). 

Gods  good,  yeast,  iii.  186.  117;  diges- 
tive, ii.  17.  10. 

Good  cheape,  i.  195.  2. 

Gore  bloud,  in  a,  li.  406.  28. 

GrauelUd,  iL  153.  25. 

Greate  horse,  L  287.  10,  ii.  452.  35. 

Grisping,  twilight,  ii.  20.  7. 

Gryphe,  griffin,  ii.  445.  ill. 

Guest,  host,  iii.  118.  97. 

Gup,  iii.  155.  101,  177.  14. 

Hob,  nab,  ii.  123.  11.     Cf.  Hobler, 

Hacker,  swaggerer,  iii.  398.  18. 

Hag,  witch,  i.  255.  3,  ii.  442.  5,  iii.  59. 

27,  140.  21. 
Haggard,  wild  hawk,  i.  219.  35.    So 

haggarde  (adj.),  i.  253.  23,  ii.  391.  i ; 

haggardnes,  i.  191.  12. 
Haire,  against  the,  ii.  359.  10. 


Hammers,  head  full  of ^  iii.  184.  59;  cf. 

iii.  203.  123,  225.  291,  409.  19. 
Handsel,  earnest-money,  iii.  218.  52. 
Hangby,  hanger  on,  iii.  426.  99,  1 25. 
/laue  no  shew,  i.  191.  13,  209.  32,  321. 

8,  ii.  461.  16. 
Haunce,  tilt  up,  iii.  410.  24. 
Heaue  at,  be  nauseated  with,  ii.  317. 18. 

Heavers  at,  i.  419.  28. 
Hediock,  iii.  284.  193. 
Heedie,  ii.  170.  22. 
Heele,  short  in  the,  of  frailty,  iiL  137. 

33,  ii.  179.  5,  i.  504  note. 
Heidegyet,  dances,  iii.  60.  41. 
Herbor,  arbour  (->  harbour,  Skeat),  ii. 

129.  10.    Cf.  herbage,  iii.  133.  23. 
Highte  (ptcp.),  iu.  357.  175,  377.  87. 
Hobby,  falcon,  ii.  219.  9,  &c. 
Hobler,  mark  for  tossing  at,  iii.  217. 14. 
Hold  tack,  iii.  201.  57. 
Honnie  Afoone  (as  a  time  of  careless 

youth),  ii.  49.  29. 

Hose  losing.),  stocking  or  breech,  ii.  7.  5. 
Hoxe^  hamstring,  iii.  203.  1 1 5. 
Huddle  (sb.),  what  is  huddled  in  wraps, 

what  is  coddled  and  petted ;  of  a  baby, 

iii.  219.  77 ;  of  old  men,  i.  194.  9,  iii. 

184.  38 ;  of  a  girl's  lover,  i.  247.  4 ;  of 

luxurious  livers,  ii.  345.  76. 
Hungerly,  i.  206.   13,  ii.   20.   22 ;  cf. 

angeriie,  i.  466.  31. 
Husband,  husbandman,  i.  253.  4. 
Hymen,  nuptial  hymn,  ii.  472.  194. 

/ack,  coat  of  leather  sewn  over  iron,  ii. 

193.  24. 
Uniting,  early  apple,  i.  492.  24. 
lennet,  i.  282.  37,  313.  i,  ii.  166.  14, 

iii.  483.  24. 

lel  (vb.),  strut,  iii.  367.  i,  375.  8. 
Illustrate,  illustrious,  iiL  383.  25. 
Jmbost,  beaded  with  sweat,  iii.  147.  27. 
Jmpe  (sb.),  i.  185.  23,  192.  4,  248.  8, 

260.  22,  267.  4 ;   (vb.)  ii.  34.  4. 
Improue,  raise  rent,  iii.  211.  12. 
Incontinently,  immediately,  i.  227.  8. 
Induction,   reasoning,  plan,  ii.  44.  17 

(cf.  Ruh,  III,  L  I.  32). 
Infer,  allege,  instance,  ii.  145.  16. 
Infestious,  dangerous,  iii.  272.  74. 
Ingramnesse,    ignorance,  iii.   426.   95 

(|r.   ingram,  corruption  of  law-term 

ignoramus.  Cent,  Diet.), 
Iniurie,  injure,  ii.  337.  43. 
Iniurious,  insulting,  iii.  22.  31. 
Insteppe,  high  in  the,  of  pride,  i.  202.  24, 

504  note,  ii.  179.  5,  iii.  34.  34»  J37-  33- 
Intend,  attend  to,  i.  418.  6. 
Intention,  tightening,  ii.  147.  23. 
lost  there  vp  (to  a  horse),  iii.  215.  7. 


6oo 

loynd  stoole  (folding),  iii.  309.  28. 
/9/M/^,  joining,  iii.  242.  9. 
lump  with,  to  be^  ii.  326.  130. 


Key  coUkt  iii.  206.  43. 

Kinde  (sb.)*  nature,  iii.  374.  142,  379. 
44,  463.  12.  Kynde  (adj.),  true  bred, 
natural,  i.  206.  11,  31,  247.  7,  459.  23, 
ii.  130.  28. 

KixeSj  iii.  405.  25. 

Knocking  (of  the  hands),  iii.  133.  34. 

Knottesy  garden-beds,  i.  187.  30,  37,  ii. 
82.  I,  205.  7. 

Knew  ones  good  (generally),  ii.  23. 
36 ;  (specially,  of  polite  or  proper  be- 
haviour), ii.  161.  29,  iii.  137.  4I}  178. 
38,317.70. 

Lady  longings ^  kind  of  fruit,  iii.  45.  loi. 
Lambacke  (vb.),  cudgel,  iii.  400.  35. 
LetrkeSj  to  haue,  iii.  278.  291  note. 
Lauishy  reckless,  abusive,  iii.  394.  3(), 

396.  28,  426.  III.    So  lauishntSy  li. 

148.  2 1  ;  lavishly y  iii.  454.  4. 
Laundy  lawn,  i.  424.  9. 
Lay  cushions  vnder  the  elbowe  ofy  i.  195. 

31,  282.  4.     Cf.  ii.  348.  31. 
Leachy  ytWy,  i.  ii49.  19. 
Leade  Apes  in  hell,  i.  220.  32,  230.  26, 

ii.  61.  14. 

Leads y  gutter,  iii.  217.  14. 
Leash  (vb.),  iii.  147.  16. 
Leaue  (intr.),  cease,  ii.  194.  25. 
Lee/ehye,  ly/kie,  i.  255.  7. 
Leerey  tape,  i.  224.  4 ;  learning,  iii.  194. 

47. 
Legeritiey  nimbleness,  iii.  353.  39. 

^&S^i  lo  fnake  a,  ii.  440.  24. 

Leies,  leas,  ii.  453.  6. 

Leripoopey  elementary  knowledge,  com- 
mon sense,  savoir  faire,  L  483.  7,  ii. 
377.  6  (see  note),  iii.  i8i.  128,  407.  31. 

Letielly  aim,  ii.  468.  80,  iii.  401.  16. 

Listy  edge,  iii.  394.  23. 

Local y  medical  term  for  remedies  of  ex- 
ternal application,  ii.  396.  20. 

Loitersackcy  idle  rogue,  iii.  1 88.  4. 

Longisy  i.  254.  2.  ii.  97.  35. 

Looky  look  for,  i.  194.  32. 

Louelyy  loving,  iii.  78.  243,  137.  51, 
465.  36. 

Louingwormesy  ii.  182.  3,  357.  127,  iii. 
188.  15. 

Lumpy  lump-fish,  i.  429.  20,  iii.  45.  98. 

Lurcher^  robber,  iii.  34.  9. 

LynceSy  lynxes,  ii.  316.  15. 

Lyste  (sb.),  desire,  i.  201.  17,  ii.  44.  3. 
103.  12. 

Lystethy  it  (impers.),  i.  315.  27. 

Lythemesse,  ii.  50.  31,  iiL  59.  18. 


GLOSSARY 


Makey  mate,  i  33^  20,  Sec, 
Make  {fine)  f or y  disable,  iii.  371.  35. 
Makehaiey\\\yA\ejy  iii.  421.  130. 
Malue  (tr.),  i.  439.  6,  ii.  41.  23,  139. 

18. 
McUtmarey  iii.  214.  213. 
Mammeringy  L  253.  14,  488.  31,  ii  75. 

25,  148.  22. 
Mantheiy  i.  256.  33. 
Manne  (vb.),  escort,   iL   68.   25,  439. 

90 ;  tame  (a  hawk),  iu  139.  i. 
Manuary  (adj.),  i.  289.  21. 
Masfy  frighten,  ii.  195.  27. 
Masticke,  iii.  136.  142. 
Matcuhine^  iii.  413.  32. 
Afaiey  confoudd,  iii.  274.  157,  494.  28. 
Mawmety  iii.  360.  60  (i.  54,  note  2). 
Meane,  moderate,   ii.  83.   5,    108.  26, 

324.  43,  &c. 
Mecockty  i.  249.  2. 
Medicines,  drugs,  poisons,  L  427.  21,  ii. 

108.  23,  iii.  25.  76. 
Meetly^  moderately  (fr.  vb.  nute)y  i.  256. 

37- 
Mermaid^  a  6sh,  i.  449.  1 2  ;  cf.  428. 5. 

Messe,  set  of  four,  iii.  186.  122. 

Methridatey  a  medicine,  ii.  1 26.  34,  396. 

12  ;  sovereign  remedy,  ii.  116.  5,  396. 

i3»  "i.  150-  47« 
Mingle-mangiey  iii.  115.  19. 

Misdume  (sb.),  iii.  477.  27. 

Mislykcy  displease,  i.  180.  16. 

Miss  the  cushiony  L  237.  22. 

Mockagey  ii.  114.  14. 

Months  mincUy  ii.  217.  26. 

Moppey  grimace  (with  mowe),  iii.  418. 

Moulwarpey  moldwarpCy  mole,  ii.  119. 
31,  iii.  413.  9;  also  tnoldiy  i.  478.  16, 
mooley^%^,  15,  mcold  (ib.),  and  mewlty 

ii.  383-  131- 
Mouse  (of  beef),  ii.  377.  11. 

Mowe  (vb.),  grimace,  iii.  280.  20,  406. 

7  ;  (sb.)  iii.  418.  13,  421.  133. 
Moysturey  moisten,  ii.  396.  18. 
MublefubleSy  iii.  155.  104,  410.  19. 
Mu€y  mew,  prison,  properly  the  place 

where  hawks  are  kept,  i.  425.  5  ;  (vb.), 

iii.  186.  113. 
Mumpy  whine,  iii.  214.  213,  406.  7. 
MurUnuweSy  riddles,  iii.  369.  94. 
MurriaHy  Moor,  ii.  89.  13. 
Muses y  in  hiry  i.  237.  11. 
MushrumpCy  mushroom,  iii.  155.  108. 
Musrouiey  noseband,  iii.  410.  9. 
Mychy  ii.  59.  18.  iii.  188.  28.     Mither, 

iii.  182.  191,  221.  162. 
Myselly  to  rain  fine  drops,  ii.  406.  59. 

Nayle  (cloth  measure),  iii,  157.  173. 


GLOSSARY 


60 1 


Neate  (pi.),  cattle,  iii.  348.  300. 

Neats^feetCy  walk  on  onesy  iii.  401.  23. 

I^eerty  come  (fig.  of  a  home-thrust),  ii. 
448.  76,  iii.  1 29.  90. 

Nethermore  (adv.),  ii.  3a.  7. 

Nippt^  biting  saying,  i.  aoo.  31,  &c. 
To  nippe  in  the  head  (of  a  sudden,  dis- 
concerting speech  or  incident),  i.  237. 
a6,  ii.  127.  5. 

NowU,  iii.  187.  155. 

Occupy^  use,  i.    196.  3,  la,  ii.  3a.  a. 

OccupcUioHy  mechanical  trade,  iii.  %1, 

46. 

Oft  (adj.),  iii.  478.  ai.     Cf.  seldome, 
Olde  (intensive  adj.),  absolute,  exces- 
sive, ii.  7.  II,  iii.  375.  188. 
Otuly  (adj.),  mere,  bare,  i.  a  16.  39,  iii. 

a5a.  ia6;  cf.  it.  464.  61. 
OppugfUy  attack,  iii.  435.  74. 
Orient  (colour),  iii.  70.  95,  a6o.  9. 
Ouerhear^  overreach,  iii.  13  a.  10, 134. 75. 
OuerUishinge^  i.  309.  5,  346.  9,  a8o.  35, 

309.  ao. 

Outrtaken^  drunk,  iii.  19a.  a. 
Ouerthwart  (vb.),  ii.  104.  3a,  143.  13 ; 

(sb.)  i.  65.  I,  11.  335.  38,  iii.  40.  17. 

331. 141 ;  ouerthwartnesse^i,  ao3.  33. 
Owches^  gems,  ornaments,  i.  a 34.  3. 

Pace^  parse,  iii.  181.  140. 

Painted  sheth  with  leaden  dagger^  i, 

a  1 5.  9,  a55.  30,  iii.  lao.  41. 
Pantuffles,  pantophUs^  pantables,  iii.  34. 

3  a  note,  &c. 
Pap  with  a  hatchet ^  iii.  180.  105,  404. 

Partlet,  ii.  68.  8. 

PtLss  (abs.),  excel,  exceed,  ii.  3ao.  a7 ; 

care,  iii  418.  a3  note. 
Passage y  game  at  dice,  iii.  399.  15. 
Pastery^  ^kehouse,  i.  433.  7. 
Paxy  sacred  tablet,  i.  488.  7. 
Payre,  pock,  ii.  437.  3a.  iii.  155.  79. 
Pease    (sing.),    ii.   5.    10,   i.   481.   33, 

492.  15. 
Puce^  a  (implying  beauty),  ii.   88.  i, 

457.  48- 
PeeuishneSy  folly,  iii.  160.  73  note,  and 

often.     So  pieuish,  ii.  4a.  i,  &c. 
Pellitory,  iii.  136.  141. 
Pelting,  paltry,  ii.  35a.  la,  &c. 
Pendant,  pennon,  i.  433.  31. 
Penthouse,  moustache,  iii.  133.  39. 
Pepper  in  the  nose^  to  take,  i.  357.  5,  ii. 

141.  a  I,  iii.  394.  3. 
Perish  (tr.),  ii.  383.  135. 
Personage,  personal  beauty,  ii.  73  note, 

and  often. 
Petegruj  pedigree,  ii.  153.  39,  iii.  400. 19. 


Petitoes,  iii.  138.  54. 

Pheere,  i.    197.   35,   330.   33,   335.  6, 

356.  9. 
Picke  (vb.),  pitch,  i.  438.  30. 
Piggesnye,pigsnie,  i.  353.  14,  iii,  188. 

Pike  deuant  (beard),  iii.  153.  8,  406.  6. 
Pike  of  pleasure,  a  firework,  L  448.  30. 
Pin,  pen  up,  ii.  376.  37,  437.  20. 
IHnth  of,  ii.  8.  ao. 
Pinch  courtesie  (two  senses),  i.  215.  3a 

note  ;  cf.  strain  courtesie. 
Pinch  on  the  parsons  side,  i.  230.  33. 
Pingler,  i.  349.  15. 
Pif^,  small  Dutch  vessel,  i.  486.  33. 
Pink,  stab,  flicker,  iii.  410.  ai. 
Pismyre,  ant,  iii.  483.  4. 
Pitch,  fix,  iii.  66.  iii,  160.  loa. 
Pitty  at,  i.  186.  31. 
Plancher,  pallet,  iii.  355.  135. 
Platfomte,  picture-scheme,  ii.  355.  78. 
Playne,  open,  i.  377.  3a,  ii.  43a.  i. 
Plight,  pleat,  ii.  10.  ao. 
Point,  a  tagged  lace,  ii.  438.  i,  i,  501. 

10. 
Politian,  politician,  ii.  378.  35. 
Poltfoote,  i.  179.  10,  339.  aa. 
Portague,  iii.  ia8.  41. 
Portmouth,  twitch,  iii.  41a  9. 
Pose,  cold,  iii.  155.  109,  314.  a  18. 
Pottle-pot,  ii.  444.  8a. 
Poudred,uXXjG^y  iii.  aoa.  loa. 
Powting,  eel-powt,  iii.  45.  98. 
Prefer,  plead,  uige,  ii.  39.  19. 
Pretence,  proposition,  contention,  i.  191. 

5  ;  mental  attitude,  iii.  454.  a6. 
Prick  in  chutes,  sew,  ii.  357.  136,  iii. 

179.  60. 
Prick  song,  ii.  351.  36. 
Priest,  he  ones,  perform  one's  funeral,  ii. 

loa.  4. 
Princockes,  pert  youth,  iii.  178.  33. 
Print,  in  (of  immaculate  appearance), 

ii.  168.  33. 

Proofe,  armour,  iii.  131.  71. 
Proyne,  i.  363.  35. 
^^SS^i  goo<J  fellow,  iii.  56.  58. 
Pur,  post,  pare  (cards),  iii.  155.  79. 
Pursnet,  ii.  453. 67. 
Put  to  ones  trump,  ii.  339.  60. 
Puttocke,  i.  335.  a6. 
Pyble,  ii.  43a.  13,  iii.  a83.  loi. 
Pykes,  rocks,  i.  189.  7,  353.  35, 

Quatted  {\j8X,  coactare),  i.  194.  7. 
Que,  cue,  iii.  193.  31,  404.  38. 
Quesie,  nauseating,  i.  194.  8. 
Quest,  }ury,  iii.  303.  131. 
Questionest,  disputant,  iii.  346.  163. 
Quiddity,  i.  273.  33. 


6o2 


GLOSSARY 


QuilSy  feathers,  ii.  405.    17.  433.   31. 

Quyller^  half-Hedged  bird,  iii.  68.  22. 

Quippe  (vb.),  i.  183.  5»  '84. 14,  ii.  334. 

28. 

Quirky  i.  272.  22,  ii.  8.  15  note,  &c. 
Quody  i.  179.  13. 
QuoyingSyii,  57.  17. 

Rabbit  sucker y  iii.  69.  30. 

Hack^  stretch,  strain  (of  raising  rents), 

i.  427.  18,  iii.  211.  114;  (of  laborious 

composition),  iii.  41 2.  3. 
Kcuke  (of  mutton),  iii.  203.  112. 
Kaisons  of  the  sunne,  iii.  203.  13a 
Rampey  jade,  romp,  ii.  395.  So. 
Rascally  lean  deer,  iii.  351.  34a 
Rasty  scraping,  remnant,  ii.  28.  25  (but 

ph.  =  race). 
Rate  from  (of  a  dog),  ii.  353.  27. 
Raughty  reached,  iii.  420.  94. 
Raugktery  raft,  ii.  436.  6. 
Rayy  array,  iii.  418.  28,  430.  80. 
Rea,p  vpy  rip  up  (found  i.  511.  22,  &c.), 

ii.  143-  30- 

Receitey  position  taken  to  await  driven 
game,  ii.  178.  32,  iii.  327.  5. 

Recordy  remember,  i.  303.  31,  ii.  25.  14, 
35.  19,  185.  8,  iii.  348.  228;  flute  or 
sing  (of  birds),  i.  439.  32,  iL  58.  7, 
iii.  258.  79,  376.  42. 

Recumbent ibusy  cumy  iiL  1 54.  48. 

Recure  (vb.),  i.  208.  21,  36,  &c.,  prob- 
ably originally  identical  with  recovery 
M.£.  recoeuren,  though  distinguished 
from  it  by  Lyly,  i.  320.  25-6;  (sb.) 
iii.  33.  92,  &c 

Reduce y  bring  back,  i.  234.  30,  ii.  19. 
12. 

Refelly  ii,  109.  28,  &c. 

Renty  rend,  ii.  17.  29,  iii.  59.  22,  72. 
42,  409.  40,  419.  67,  423.  9 ;  also  as 
past  tense  of*  rend,*  iii.  66.  109. 

ResilucUioHy  ii.  90.  8. 

Resortey  society,  i.  192.  23  (cf.  Ttvo 
Gent.  i.  2.  4). 

Rest  (tr.),  desist  from,  ii.  129.  1, 

Rest,  set  vp  onesy  iii.  398.  14. 

Restoriticy  restorative,  ii.  129.  23  (also 
in  Ab.  Fleming's  Pref.  to  his  transl.  of 
Dr.  Caius's  treatise  on  English  DogSy 

1576). 
RetchleSyi,  185.  18. 
Ridy  remove,  ii.  404.  31,  iii.  175.  86. 
Rigge  (vb.),  iii.  122.  90. 
Ringy  wringy  abuse,  iii.   196.   7,  420. 

89;  (intr.)  bear  the  blame,  iii.   219. 

lOI. 

RippieVy  fish-carrier,  iii.  405.  18. 
Risingy  yeast,  iii.  i86.  117. 
Roagey  tramp,  iii.  412.  15,  33. 


Rochet y  iii.  399.  36,  4 19.  68. 

Rod  under  the  girdle,  ^ui  a,  i.  185.  15, 

iii.  34.  14. 
Roist  (vb.),  iii.  175.  65,  449.  32.    Roy- 

ster  (sb.),  iii.  394.  7. 
Rope-ripe y  rascal,  iii.  359.  19. 
Rorey  roarty  to,  to  revel,  riot,  ii.  3^8. 

loP,  395-  76,  438-  83. 
Roue  cU  (of  a  bad  aim),  iii.  401.  16. 
Round  {yh.)y  whisper,  i.  217.  23. 
Round  hose y  iii.  209.  39. 
Rowle  (of  hair),  i.  254.  37,  iii.  121.  78. 
Ruddocky  robin,  iii.  125.  75. 
RundUy  globe,  iii.  242.  11. 
Rumilety  runlet,  iii.  198.  41. 
Russet  (sb.  or  adj.),  ii.  199.  31,  i.  424 

footnote. 
Ryfe  (adv.),  frequently,  i.  189.  25. 


Salamichy  iii.  313.  129. 

SalfBy  ii.  142.  8.    Sa/fily,  iL  144.  6. 

Sallety  salad,  iii.  1 1 5.  9. 

Sauncey  Sanctus,  a  hymn,  iii.  54.  33. 

ScaddUy  thievish,  iii.  395.  6. 

ScambUy  scramble,  ii.  393.  3,  405.  6. 

Score  (sc.  yards),  i.  432.  19,  448.  34. 

Sealed  (fig.  of  a  bird  whose  eyes  are 

sewn  up  to  make  it  fly  high),  ii.  344. 

41. 
Searcloth  (cerecloth),  ii.  33.  35. 
Seek  tOy  resort  to,  ii.  110.  2. 
Selcbme  (adj.),  ii.  31.  20. 
Sensiue,  reasoning,  iii.  448.  25. 
Sentencey  maxim,  ii.  94.  5,  158. 17,322. 

77. 
Seqtuly  subordinate,  ii.  45.  35. 

Set  a  sale  ony  give  an  air  to,  iii.  377.  82. 

Setting  on,  entertainment,  iii.  194.  59. 

Sewy  drain,  exhaust,  ii.  174.  13. 

ShadoWy  bonnet- border,  i.    255.  7,  iii. 

121.  80. 
Shadow,  represent  in  painting,  i.  i8a  2, 

ii.  3.  8,  &C.    ShadoweSy  paintings,  ii. 

4a.  ao,  153.  20,  iii.  124.  18  (?). 
Shake  ones  eareSy  ii.  35.  12. 
Shark,  play  pirate,  i.  499.  27. 
Shceres  to  goe  betweene,  L  195.  30,  iiL 

404.  4. 
Shent,  scolded,  iii.  37.  143,  467.  32. 
Shiuers,  fragments,  iii.  66.  1 10. 
Shoar  vpy  ii.  20.  32, 
Shrinkcy  Quit,  iii.  214.  224. 
Shrowdy  shrewd,  iii.  148.  68. 
Siby  related,  iiL  377.  70. 
Single y  buck's  tail,  iii.  147.  26. 
SirtSy  quicksands,  iii.  450.  25. 
Sise^  regulate,  measure,  iL  31.  36. 
Sithence,  since,  ii.  328.  46,  &c. 
Sizing,  yeast,  iii.  186. 117. 


GLOSSARY 


603 


SkilUth,  matters,  ii.  30.  12,  151.   18, 

355-  5^- 
Skirtf  become  skinned  over,  i.  309.  1  a. 

Skintker,  iii.  187.  152. 

Slake  (intr.),  iii.  357-  202. 

Sleeke  stone,  i.  219.  6,  iL  9.  19.     SUek 

(vb.),i.  254.33. 
SleeueUsse^  bootless,  i.  253.  17  note,  iii. 

405.  1 7  note. 
Slibber^  i.  254.  34. 
Slights y  sleights,  i.  221.  24,  &c 
Slip^  counterfeit  coin,  iii.  184.  53. 
Slipstring,  truant,  iii.  184.  54. 
Slitu  (vb.),  slice,  iii.  412.  10. 
Smcukty  taste,  iL  12.  22  ;  smattering,  i. 

287.  11,316.  29,  ii.  13.  30. 
Smell  to^  ii.  160.  9,  iiu  188.  17,  307.  31. 
Smother,  smoulder,  i.  190.  36. 
Snaphance^  firelock,  iii.  184.  39. 
Snorts  snore,  ii.  213.  12,  401.  57. 
Snuffkifiy  snuftkin,  muff,  i.  500.  25. 
Soake,  exhaust,  i.  186.  5. 
Sod,  past  tense  of  seethe  (intr.),  iii.  405. 

40  ;  (tr.)  iii.  198.  47. 
Soile  oneself,  take  refuge,  ii.  127.  12  (?). 

So  take  soyle,  iii.  147.  27  note. 
Soiaum,  sojourner,  ii.  192.  12  (but  cf. 

ii.  221.  7). 
S4foth,  flatter,  i  186.  5,  &c. ;  affirm  to 

be  sooth,  i.  262.  15. 
Sound  (vb.),  swoon,  i.  218.  5,  483.  i, 

ii.  86.  3, 107. 5,  iii  248.  216.   A  sowne, 

a  swoon,  ii.  392.  22. 
Souierlie,  iii.  412.  5. 
Speak  in  your  cast,  ii.  55.  6, 172.  24,  iii. 

217.  20. 
Spill,  destroy,  mar,  ii.  440.  32. 
Spotte  (for  the  face),  i.  255.  7,  iii.  121. 

80. 

Springall,  youngster,  iii.  409.  22. 
Spurblinde,  short-sighted,  iu  384.  20. 
Spume  (sb.),  kick,  iii.  399.  23. 
Spurre  (vb.,  of  disputation),  iii.  206. 20, 

208.  23,  213.  185,  395.  3,  396.  21. 
Squat,  at  the,  low-couched,  ii.  180.  11. 
Squirrell  iyh.),  iii.  188.  13,  399.  9. 
Squirrilitie,  scurrility,  iii.  399.  8. 
Stain^  dim,  outshine,  i.  199.  29,  ii.  22. 

36,  3'7-  ". 
Stale^  pretext,  i.  226.  20,  238.  23 ;  decoy, 

iii.  269.  301. 
Stand,  ca^«  iii.  193.  32. 
Stand  on  ioynts,  iii.  373.  133. 
Stand  vpon,  consist  in,  ii.  194.  36 ;  be 

arrested  by,  ii.   323.    28 ;   take  one's 

stand  on,  ii.  386.  30. 
Stand  vpin  no  ground,  iii.  213.  188. 
Standes  mee  vppon,  it,  i.  190.  14,  ii.  52. 

16. 
5/air<;&'ii^  (hunter's),  iii.  364.  128. 


Standing  cup,  ii.  96.  35,  iii.  139.  94. 
Starter,  runaway,  truant,   i.    205.  17, 

222.  10.    So  start,  shirk,  ii.  72.  3. 
States,  people  of  rank  and  position,  i. 

312.  9, 428.  27,  il  378.  29,  iii.  418. 16, 

420.  103,  426.  102. 
Statute  Marchant,  iii.  214.  225. 
Sterne,  tortile  the,  L  310.  28. 
Sterue,  die,  i.  218.  31. 
Stocke,  capital,  ii.  226.  27. 
Stomcuher,  front  of  bodice,  i.  503.  71, 

ii.  10.  20. 
Straine  curtesie,  or  cursie,  be  uncere- 
monious, ii.  81.  13,   iii.   199.   34;  be 

ceremonious,  ii.  220.  9. 
Straunger,  foreigner,  ii.  84.  6,  90.  12, 

102.  12,  &c. 
Strike  the  stroke,  it  104.  34. 
String,  in  a,  ii.  92.  20,  374.  39.     Cf.  in 

a  chaine,  iii.  37.  138. 
Striued,  ii.  53.  11,  iiL  43a  82. 
Stroken,  i.  292.  ao,  293.  20,  ii.  17.  27. 
Strouie,  strawte,  strut,  iii.  28.  86. 
Successe,  issue,  sequel,   i.    225.    12,  ii. 

129.  8,  iii.  51.  182,  129.  3,  195.  10. 
Succorie,  chicory,  i.  470.  2. 
Suckat,  a  sweetmeat,  i.  449.  19. 
Sulloume,  i.  189.  37,  254.  20,  ii.  85.  2. 

Solens,  the,  ii.  63.  26,  392.  26. 
Supersticious,   scrupulous,    i.   210.    15. 

So  supersticiously,  i.  207.  1 5. 
Surhated,  wearied,  i.  478.  22. 
Suspition,  implication,  ii.  178.  20. 
Swad,  iii.  148.  49,  420. 92,  426.  108. 
Swallow  a  gudlgen,  L  214.  33,  240.  i. 
Swell,  broil,  iii.  425.  65. 

Table,  picture,  L  271.  36,  ii.  6.  32,  204. 

18.     Tablet^  miniature,  ii.  86.  28. 
Table-men  (backgammon),  iii.  152.  3. 
TcUnt  (vb.),  tent  (medical),  i.  212.  11, 

ii.  88.  20.   A  tent,  ii.  132.  24. 
Take  hart  at  grasseyX.  212.  12,  ii.  54.  31. 
Take  keepe,  iii.  375.  14. 
Taken  /an/i>  (of  truants  caught),  ii.  328. 

37,  iii.  192.  I. 

Takings,  in  your,  iii.  122.  95. 
Tantonie,  St.  Anthony,  iii.  184.  37. 
Tedd,  ii.  16.  1,  iii.  412.  39. 
Teen,  keen,  i.  184.  30,  ii.  34.  3. 
Teene,  injury,  vexation  (AS.  tednd),  i. 

457.  13. 
Tenter y  stretching-frame,  iii.  194.  63. 

Tetars,  ii.  1 28.  1. 

Thoughts  cannot  hang  together  (ol  in- 
constancy), ii.  379.  30,  459.  37. 
Tickle,  unstable,  ii.  212.  18. 
Timpany,  dropsy,  ii.  24.  3. 
Tosse  (books),  i.  241.  23. 
Totterdy  tattered,  iii.  67.  127. 


6o4 


GLOSSARY 


Touch,  touchstone,  i.  307.  ii,  219.  15, 

ii.  I  a  a.  5;  aIso  ioucAsione,  ii.  loa.  xi. 
T<mrne  my  tippet,  i.  246.  32. 
Toy,  take  a,  i.  e.  fancy,  iii.  464.  4. 
Trayn  by  the  bUmd,  ii.  104.  20. 
Trayne  (intr.),  i.  186.  1 ;  (tr.)  ii.  435. 

I,  &c. 
Treacle,  a  medicine  or  healing  plant,  i. 

236.  26,  242.  5,  ii.  99.  30, 126.  28,  &c. 
Trudge  (sb.),  rebuke  or  blow,  i.  272. 

14  ;  bat  cf.  Cent,  Diet,  s.v. 
Turkie,  tnrqaoise,  ii.  317.  12,  404.  14. 
Tuske,  beat  (woods),  ii.  440.  56. 
Tyre,  pull,  i.  325.  10,  iii.  214.  201  (?). 

Vailes,  fees,  iii.  467.  4. 

Vaine,  blood,  relative,  i.  456.  5;  or 

*  spirit,*  *  temper.* 
Vamp,  ii.  388.  109. 
Vary,  quarrel,  iii.  223.  209. 
Vayle,  lower  (Fr.  avaler),  L  255.  37, 

iii.  45-  83,  284.  164. 
Venew,  thrust,  bout,  iii.  413.  28. 
Vies,  a,  iiL  399.  1 1 ;  drcp  ine,  ib. 
Virginals,  iii.  134.  85. 
Visarde,  i.  189.  i,  200.  20,  ii.  92.  19, 

105.  28. 

Vnacquainted,  unknown,  ii.  388.  1,  &c 
Vncoth,  i.  465.  18,  iii.  349.  338. 
Vnhappily  (of  mischief  or  naughtiness), 

ii.  356.  112  ;  so  vnhappy,  ii.  413.  55, 

440.  37- 
Vnkembd,  iii.  304.  67  ;  vnkempt,  i.  473. 

Vntewed,  iii.  36.  84. 
Vntruss,  iii.  46.   144,  223.  ai8,  284. 
199,412.  15. 
Voider,  iii.  404.  28. 
Vre,  use,  iii.  450.  22. 

Wag'halter,  rascal,  iii.  193.  28. 
fVahenesse,  ii.  447.  48. 
Wamble t  rumble,  iii.  56.  71. 
JVandf  riding  switch,  i.  282.  37,  ii.  100. 
7»  138.  3i»  iii.  173-  6,  215. 6,  396.  20. 
IVant,  mole,  iii.  121.  55. 
IVatch  (sb.),  guard,  i.  455. 10,  iii.  63. 161. 
IVatchet,  light  blue,  iii.  70.  96. 


Water  bough,  u.  5.  33,  376.  41. 
Water  eutll,  cold,  iiL  155.  109. 
Water  thy  plantes  (i.  e.  plaints  X),  1 353. 

13. 
Weam,  ii.  216.  14. 

Weeping  crosse,  ii.  28.  35,  iii  487.  21. 
Wenms,  the,  iii.  156.  127. 
Whattin,  iii.  367.  21. 
Whist,  silent,  ii.  62.   15,  215.  30,  iii 
278.  294,  355.  123. 
Whiting  moppe,  iii.  281.  89. 
Whitled,  drunk,  iii.  198.  44. 
Wilde,  bold,  ii.  20.  27.     So  wiidnis,  ii 

43.  23- 
Wimple  (vb.),  iii.  118.   90;    (sb.)  iii. 

419.  70. 

Winch,  wrinchf  i.  257.  7,  u.  151.  26, 
iii.  177.  7,411.  18. 

Wiredrawer,  iiL  405.  39;  (fig.)  preci- 
sian, i.  346.  33,  487.  34. 

Wist  (wrongly  as)  know,  IL  173.  10, 
181.  II :  knew,  iiL  488.  11,  &c. 

With,yi'\\\o^,  iL  113.  15,  151.  35. 

Withernam,  reprisal,  iii.  393.  14. 

Wonne,  dwell,  iii.  377.  86. 

Wood  Culuer,  ii.  iii.  30. 

Wood  the  ship  was  ntade  of,  teU  what, 

ii-  32-  37- 
Woodcoch,  simpleton,  iiL  44.  68,  418. 

30. 

Woodden  (fig.),  L  484.  39,  iii.  370.  121. 

Woodquist,  ii.  405.  3. 

Woodsere,  froth,  iii.  399.  26. 

Wreake,  reck,  iii.  378.  31. 

Wreakefull,  destructiye,   iiL    422.  12, 

457-  25. 
Wreath^  twist,  bend,  ii.  114.  28. 

Wrinckle,  tridc,  i.  202.  29,  ii.  153.  13, 

4.«)3-  74- 
Wronge,  wrung,  iL  10.  17,  139.  3i,  151. 

27»  390-  79»  4»o-  26. 
Wyhie  (neigh),  iii.  313.  194,  418.  36. 

Yerke,  iL  327.  30  (?),  374.  41,  iiL  407. 
14 ;  Jerkes  (sb.),  strokes,  ilL  398.  20. 
Ynche,  at  an,  L  251.  24. 
Youthly,  L  192.  22,  &C. 
Yrke,  be  uneasy,  iii.  345.  92. 


INDEX 


Reference  is  to  volume  and  page  only  ;  where  the  line  is  added  ^V  is  prefixed. 


Abuses ^  play  at  Greenwich,  July  30, 
1606,  possibly  by  Lyly,  i.  382. 

Aelian,  Varia  Historia  used  in  Sapho, 
ii.  364-5 ;  some  reflf.  to  De  Nat. 
Animalium  or    V.  H»  in   Euph.^  i. 

158,  344»  348,  ii-  50»»  5"»  5»3i  5i8, 
520,  531,  534,  535»  545. 

Aesop,  frequent  allusions  to,  i.  157,  373, 
480  1.  3 ;  ii.  43  (named),  498  ;  ii.  497 
(Satyr  and  Fire),  341 ;  ii.  535,  iii.  67 
(Eagle  and  Beetle);  ii.  538,  iii.  80 
(Sun  and  Wind). 

Alchemy,  introd.  in  Gallathea  from  Scot 
and  Chaucer,  ii.  423-4,  567-8 ;  in 
England,  ii.  477  note. 

Alen^on,  Due  d',  his  suit  to  Elizabeth, 
ii.  366-7,  56a,  564. 

Allegory :  allegorical  personification  of 
the  Moral- Plays,  ii.  232,  the  step  to 
right  characterization,  235,  rejected 
by  Lyly  except  in  framework  of  The 
Woman,  250,  25n ;  his  view  of,  iii. 
83-4 ;  his  methods  for  imparting  con- 
creteness,  ii.  255-6,  iii.  84;  limiting 
conditions  of  his  political  allegory,  iii. 
85-6 ;  story  of  his  plays  independent 
of  it,  ii.  257-8;  moral  allegory  in 
Endim,,  iii.  83, 103 ;  physical  allegory 
in  Endim,,  iii.  82-3,  ii.  255,  in  The 
Woman,  ib.^  in  Lovers  Met.,  ii.  256; 
political  allegory  in  Endim,,  iii.  9-10, 
86-102,  Endimion*s  dream,  102  note, 
5 1 5-6 ;  Sapho*s  dream,  ii.  562  ;  poli- 
tical allegory  of  Midas,  iii.  109-10,  ii. 
257,  260.  See  also  under  'Lyly  as  a 
Playwright.* 

Anachronism,  in  Edwardes,  ii.  240;  in 
Lyly,  270-1,  491. 

Andrewes,  Lancelot,  sermons  attended 
by  Lyly  and  Nash,  i.  60-1 ;  member 
of  Society  of  Antiquaries,  396 ;  M.A. 
Camb.  incorporated  M.A.  Oxon,  16. 

Anthologies,  Elizabethan,  iii.  439-43 ; 
mediocrity   of  much   of   their  verse, 

434-^- 

Antiochus  Epiphanes  and  the  sacred 
books,  i.  367. 

Arber,  Prof.  E ,  his  Reprint  of  Euphues 
1868,  L  104-5,  114,  118;  list  of  edi- 
tions, 84 ;  on  the  Morley  copy  of  Part  I, 


87-8 ;  his  review  of  opinion  on  Euphues, 
81,  115;  Introd.  Sketch  to  Mar  prelate 
Controversy,  49  note,  &c ;  Transcript 
of  Stationers^  Register,  cited  passim. 

Ariosto,  founder  of  modem  written 
drama,  ii.  473  ;  asserted  debt  of  Lyly*s 
Alchemist  and  Peter  to  //  Negromante^ 
476-7, 479 ;  his  SuppositL  473, 478-9* 
iii.  167;  Spenser's  Fradubio  and  Frae- 
lissa  borrowed  from,  iii.  293 ;  alluded 
to  Euph.,  ii.  109. 

Armada,  the,  allusions  to,  i.  408 ;  in 
Midas,  iii.  109,  119,  131,  i.  47;  Theo- 
bcUds,  i.  418;  Cowdray,  425;  Elve- 
tham,  443,  408 ;  '  octogesimus  octa- 
uus*  in  Gall,  antecedent,  ii.  422,  425, 
452.  462. 

Ascham,  Roger,  loose  style  alluded  to 
by  Harvey,  i.  80  note;  Toxophilus 
cited,  1 29-30  ;  Scholemaster  suggests 
Lyly*s  title,  327 ;  the  *  Englese  Italio- 
nato,'  ii.  509. 

Assurance,  the  formal  ceremony  of  be- 
trothal, ii.  536  (note  on  ii.  218,  1.  30). 

Astrology,  introd.  in  Gallathea,  ii, 
421-2,  573;  in  The  Woman,  iii,  235-6, 
ii.  278. 

*  Atheos,  Euphues  and,'  text  of,  i.  291- 
305,    notes    on,   364-9,    analysis  of, 

364-5- 
Aulus  Gelliu.s,   allusion  from,   iL  354 

note,  iii.  430. 

Bacon,  Francis,  his  essay  on  Marprelate 
Controversy,  i.  5 1  note ;  Lyly's  apoph- 
thegms sometimes  like,  i.  163-4  *  ^i^ 
speeches  of  Prince  of  Purpoole*s  Coun- 
sellors suggested  by  Midas,  i.  380  note, 
385  ;  Solicitor-General,  June  25, 1607, 
396. 

Baker,  Mr.  G.  P.,  his  Biographical  In- 
troduction to  Endimion,  i.  2,  iii.  8; 
theory  of  early  connexion  between 
Leicester  and  Lyly,  and  date  for  Endi- 
mion  1579,  i  21-2,  47  note,  iii.  12-3, 
95  note;  suggested  emendations  of 
Halpin*s  view  of  the  allegory,  iii.  87-8  ; 
remark  on  Scene  in  Endimion,  14; 
connects  (^elay  of  Gallaihea  with  writ 
to  Thos.  Giles,  i.  32 ;  cited,  i.  43,  48, 


6o6 


INDEX 


&c.;  argnment  for  date  of  M.  Bomb.^ 
iii.  i68 ;  bearinji;  of  ref.  in  *Advt.  for 
Pap-PIatchett '  on  date  of  Midas^  iii. 
Ill;  date  for  Loves  Met.,  396. 
Barlholomaeus  Anglicus,  \i\%  De  Pro- 
prietatibus  Rerum,  i.  131, 156-7  note; 
source  of  some  of  Lyly*s  similes,  132, 

332,  333,  338,  339.  340. 

Bartholomew's,  St.,  the  hospital,  Lyly*s 
residence  in  or  near,  i.44, 42,  Watson's, 
386  ;  entries  in  the  register  of  church 
(St.  Barth.  the  Less),  43-4,  66,  386 ; 
Lyly  assessed  as  living  in  that  parish, 
72 ;  burials,  76,  39S  note. 

Basse,  William,  and  Kycote,  L  386 ; 
imitates  Lyly*s  IVoman,  iii.  237;  cited, 
ii.  496,  510,  519,  555,  i.  334,  345- 

Bees,  ii.  391 1. 122,  i.  194  1.  17:  Fidus*s 
description,  origin  of  pass.  iQ  Henry  V, 
ii.  44-6,  498-9 ;  poem.  The  Bee^  dis- 
cussed, iii.  445-7,  text,  494-7. 

Beeston,  Sir  Hugh,  i.  391,  395-7- 

Bellum  Grammaiicale,  play  given  Ch. 
Ch.  Oxon  cSp.  24,  1592),  Lyly's 
possible  authorship  of,  i.  379-80 ; 
Sir  J.  Harington's  allusion  to,  380 
note  I. 

Bestiaries,  not  a  probable  source  for 
Lyly's  similes,  i.  336,  ii.  514. 

Bisham,  Speeches    at,  i.  471-7,  405, 

529-30. 
Bishop  of  London,  with  Archbishop  of 

Canterbury,  Censors  of  Press,  i.  44, 

49-50;  number  of  bishops,  ii.  527. 

Blackfriars,  Prologues  or  Epilogues  at, 
".  315.  359,37i>4i6;  Revels' proper- 
ties moved  to,  i.  38,  25  note;  acting 
here  before  Burbage*s  theatre  of  1 596-7, 
i.  24-5  note;  Burbage*s  theatre  leased 
by  Najth.  Gyles  in  1600,  i.  43  ;  wedding 
at,  June  16,  1600,  380-1. 

Blount,  Edw.,  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies  by 
I^yly,  ent.  Sta.  Reg.  1627-8,  pub,  1632, 
i.  64 ;  title  of,  iii.  i  ;  introductory 
matter  of,  2-3 ;  cited,  i.  76, 81,  ii.  299 ; 
followed  latest  quartos,  and  added  to 
their  corruptions,  ii.  305,  and  for  de- 
tails see  under  *■  Text  and  Bibliog.'  in 
introduction  to  each  play ;  he  Brst 
gave  the  Songs,  i.e.  21  out  of  32,  iL 
264-5;  prints  Endimion  Brst,  iii.  11. 

Bloxam,  Dr.,  on  Magd.  Coll.  Register, 
i.  I  note,  10  note;  on  the  College  re- 
cords, 15  ;  references  to  Lyly,  32. 

Boccaccio,  his  Filocopo,  i.  135,  161 ;  his 
Amcto,  suggestions  for  Loves  Met,  in 
stor>'  of  Acrimonia,  ii.  481-2;  his 
Fi/ostfotOf  i.  401. 

Boxley,near  Maidstone,  probably  Lyly's 
birthplace,  i.  5 ;  fuller  s  earth  at,  ib, ; 
DO  trace  of  name  Lyly  on  tombstone  or 


monument,  384  note ;  family  of  Wyatt< 

at,  384-5. 

Breton,  Nicholas,  probable  author  of 
song  in  Eivetham,  u  447-8,  385,  408, 
524-5,  and  of  An  Olde  Mams  Lesson, 
399-403 ;  style  like  Lyly's,  404-5. 

Brydges,  Giles,  Lord  Chandos,  L  53a 

Bullen,  Mr.  A.  H.,  his  edition  of  Peelc, 
i.  519;  of  the  Poet.  RhoLpsody,  534; 
on  the  Elizabethan  lyrics,  iiL  435-6, 
442-3 ;  ed.  of  Marlowe,  44J ;  00 
Maydes  Met.,  iii.  334,  338. 

Burleigh,  Loni,  Lyly's  early  coonexioo 
with,  i.  4 ;  perhaps  assists  Lyly  at  col- 
1'  ge,  6,  1 2  ;  Lyly*s  Latin  letter  to 
1 574,  1 2-5  ;  probably  introduces  Lyly 
at  Court,  12.  385,  iu  198;  complaiDt 
to  by  Cambridge  authorities,  i.  14-5; 
house  near  Savoy,  1 7 ;  authority  over 
Savoy,  17-8  ;  Lyly's  eulogy  of,  it  198, 
i.  21,  22,  417  1.  9,  419  T.  3;  recom- 
mends Lyly  to  his  son-in-law  Oxlbrd, 
i.  24,  29  note  4 ;  Lyly's  letter  to, 
about  Oxford*s  displeasure  158 J,  27-9; 
anxiety  about  the  navy  1583-4,  32 ;  as 
Earl  Marshal,  order  for  procession 
1588,40;  correspondence  with  Lord 
Mayor,  &c  about  Anti-Martinist  plays, 
53 ;  attitude  to  the  Martinists,  55 ; 
visited  at  Theobalds  by  Elix.  1591,  i. 
379,  520;  house  at  Pymms,  519-20; 
failing  health,  69,  391 ;  action  in  re- 
gard to  petition  of  Revels*  creditors 
1.S97-8,  69-70;  earlier  complaint  to 
him  by  a  costumier  1571,  71  ;  his 
death.  71,  Lyly's  letter  of  condoleoce 
with  Cecil  on,  391-3;  Latin  epitaphs 
on,  393 ;  opposition  between,  and  Lei- 
cester, 22,  77;  alluded  to?  it  23  1,  7 
(i.  130). 

Byrd,  William,  '  doubtful '  poems  from, 
iii.  440. 

Caesar,  Jul.,  borrowed  from  in  Eupk., 
ii.  31-2,  i.  157  ;  notes  on  the  passage, 
i>'  495  >  and  Dover  Castle,  490. 

Calendar,  the,  Gr^ory  XIII's  rectifica- 
tion of,  iu  490. 

Cambridge  in  i6th  century,  Lyly  prob- 
ably at,  i.  16,  51-2,  ii.  193;  incorpora- 
tion between,  and  Oxford,  i.  16  note; 
protest  by  Vice- Chan  eel  lor  and  Heads 
against  abuse  of  royal  appointment  to 
Fellowships,  14;  Elizabeth's  visits  to, 
ii.  213;  Harvey  and  the  Public  Orator- 
ship,  i.  3a 

Campaspe,  text,  iu  313-60;  introduc- 
tion, 301-12;  notes,  540-54 ;  editions, 
302-5  ;  dates  of  composition  and  per^ 
formance,  i.  23,  25,  ii.  309-1 1 ;  sources, 
244, 306--9 ;  criticism  of,  244,  246, 248, 


INDEX 


607 


349 ;  our  first  historical  play,  251-2  ; 
not  allegorical,  256,  550;  structure, 
272,  274 ;  abrupt  transfer  in  the  course 
of  a  scene,  269 :  marks  of  style,  289 ; 
other  marks,  246,  250,  261,  264-5, 
271-2,  280,  283, 283,  284, 288, 296-8; 
its  effect,  i.  31-2;   adaptation  of,  ii. 

3". 
*Carde,  A  Cooling,'  warning  letter  of 

Euphues  to  Philautus  against  love  and 

women    and    court    life,    i.    246-57; 

alluded  to,  ii.  14,  86,  93. 

Cato,  Dionysius,  his  Disticka  de  Mori- 
btis^  iii.  582. 

Cecil,  Sir  Robert,  letters  to  from  Lyly, 
(I)  Jan.  17,  1594-5,  i-  389-90»  (2) 
Dec  22,  1597,  68-9,  (3)  Jan.  23, 
"597-8,  391,  (4)  Sept.  9, 1598,  39>-3, 
(5)  Feb.  27,  1600-1,  393-5»  W  Feb. 
4,  1602-3,  75  ;  Lx)k  a  petitioner  of, 
67;  Secretary  of  State  1596,  67,  520; 
rivalry  with  lissex,  69,  74 ;  house  pro- 
tected 1600,  18;  jealous  of  Greville, 
75,  77  J  figures  in  Gardener's  speech, 
417-8;  embassy  to  Paris,  391  notes; 
correspondence  about  Deanery  of  Christ 
Churcn,  393  note. 

Cervantes'  Galatea^  Lyly  unindebted  to, 

ii.  479,  483. 
Chalmers's  payment-lists  from  Council 

Registers,  ii.  310,  425 ;  gap  in,  June  26, 

1505 — Feb.  19,  1586,  iii.  11  note;  iii. 

Ill,  296. 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  summary  of  Lyly's 

debt  to,  i.  4C0-1 ;    Alchemist  partly 

taken  from,  ii.  423-4 ;  SirTophas  and 

Sir  Thopas,  iii.  503-4;    Aureola  in 

Etvetham  and  Chaucer's  Proserpine, 

i-  40^  525. 
Child,  Mr.  C.  G.,  essay  on  John  Lyly 

and  Euphuism,  i.  119,  freely  borrowed 

from  here,  120,   123,   126,   128,  135, 

&C. ;  table  of  Euphuism  in  the  Plays, 

ii.  289,  290,  cf.  iii.  12. 

Choir-boys  employed  as  actors,  i.  34-7 ; 
effects  of  on  the  drama,  36  ;  petition 
against  the  practice  1600,  35,  ii.  426 ; 
forbidden  1026,  i.  37. 

Chronological  summary  of  facts  in 
Lyly's  life,  i.  398-9. 

Colet's  School,  relation  of  the  Paul's 
choir-boys  to,  i.  34  note. 

Collier,  J.  P.,  Hist.  Dram.  Poetry  cited, 
ii.  232-3,  473,  and  passim  ;  Biblio- 
graph.  Catalogue,  i.  390,  525,  &c. 

Cooper,  Thos.,  Bishop  of  Winchester, 
his  Admonition,  i.  50,  iii.  574;  master 
of  Magd.  Coll.  School  1566-7,  i.  10; 
alluded  to  by  Nash,  60  note. 

Cotton,  Sir  Robert,  i.  396 ;  letter  from 
Lyly  to,  389,  395-7. 


Cowdiay,  Entertainment  at,  i.  422-30, 

405,  409*  520-2. 

Cranes,  ii.  488,  176,  514. 

Cumberland,  George  Clifford,  6th  Earl 
of,  i.  381,  519,  524;  succeeds  Lee  as 
Champion,  384,  410-1 ;  Ode  at  his 
Shew  on  Horseback,  414-5 ;  com* 
plaining  speech,  415-6 ;  probably 
secures  Lyly  his  seat  for  Appleby,  384. 

Dante,    perhaps    recalled,    ii.   88   (cf. 

note). 
Date  of  Philautus's  last  letter  wrong, 

why,  i.  22  note  5,  ii.  537  (note  on  ii. 

222). 
Davies,  Sir  John,  supposed  author  of 

the  *  Lottery  *  at  Harefield,  i.  385,  335; 

presents  a  copy  of  Euphues,  i.   385 

note  5  ;  i.  519. 
Diet,  ii.  528,  200  1.  28,  201  I.  27,  411 

I.  9. 

Dilke,  C.  W.,  his  Old  Eng.  Plays,  En- 
dimion  edited  in,  iii.  8 ;  fails  to  ]>erceive 
the  allegory  of  End.,  ii.  257  note; 
Midas  edited,  iii.  108,  allegory  first 
noted  by,  ii.  257;  Mother  Bombie 
edited,  iii.  166;  a  ftiend  of  Keats,  iii. 
103. 

Diogenes  Laertius,  Vita  Philosophorum 
used  in  Campaspe,  ii.  309 ;  many  quota- 
tions, 543-51. 

Doddridge,  Sir  John,  Solicitor-General, 
interested  in  Lyly,  i.  396-7. 

Domenichi,  Lodov.,  his  Nobilt^  delle 
Donne,  recalled  in  several  passages,  i. 
175  note,  ii.  503,  535. 

Dover,  described  briefly,  ii.  35  ;  pier,  ii. 
496  ;  Euphues'  landing  at,  i.  375. 

Dowland,  John,  *■  doubtful '  poems  from, 

i»-  435 »  444. 
Drayton,  Michael,  i.  539 ;  his  Man  in 

the  Moone,  iii.  103. 

Dreams,  utterances  on,  ii.  405-7,  iii.  202- 
4;  Lyly's  dramatic  use  of,  ii.  247,  264; 
Sapho's,  562 ;  her  ladies*,  292  ;  Endi- 
mion's,  iii,  10, 102, 515-6,  represented, 
39,  recounted,  66-7;  Sir  Tophas's,  a 
parody,  ii.  276;  Lucio's  and  Half- 
penny's, iii.  202-3. 

Dress,  Euph.,  i.  319  1.  27,  ii.  9  (11.  18- 

22,  34-^),  10  yi-  3-6,  14,  '9-21),  194 

II.  15-26,  199. 

Dumb  Shew,  ii.  263,  iiL  508-9;  in 
Endim.  iii.  39. 

Education,  treatise  on,  paraphrased  from 
Plutarch,  i.  260-86 ;  Lyly's  additions 
to  Plutarch,  352-3 ;  sir  John  Elyot's 
transl.  of  Plutarch's  treatise,  i.  352  sqq. 

Edwardes,  Richard,  Puttenham's  men- 
tion of,   i.   24;    connexion  wiih  the 


6o8 


INDEX 


Chapel,  35 ;  Damon  and  Pithias^ 
comic  servants,  36,  ii.  238 ;  a  model 
for  Lyly,  i.  159  note,  ii.  238,  274; 
criticism  of,  239-41,  252,  253;  Pro- 
logue, our  first  critical  utterance,  239  ; 
Unities  in,  267. 

Egerton,  Sir  Thos.,  i.  533 ;  the  Egerton 
Papers,  383,  534. 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  abuse  of  royal  recom- 
mendation to  Fellowships,  i.  14-5; 
flattery  of  in  Lyly's  work  (see  *  Flattery/ 
&c)  ;  shot  Bred  on  the  Thames,  i.  22, 
ii.  207,  532 ;  confines  Oxford,  i.  27 ; 
not  offended  with  Sapho^  i.  31 ;  doubt- 
ful if  with  Woman,  63,  390,  ii.  256-7, 
iii.  236 ;  removes  inhibition,  i.  32  ; 
countenances  use  of  choir-boys  as 
actors,  35-6,  iii.  295;  Lyly's  wife 
attendant  on  her?  i.  43,  75  ;  her  var)r^ 
ing  attitude  about  love  perhaps  re- 
flected in  the  plays,  45  ;  suitors  to,  ii. 
533;  age,  532,  i.  381  note;  her  love 
for  Leicester  and  rivalry  with  Mary 
allegorized  in  Emiim^y  i.  46,  ii.  259, 
iii.  87-91, 1 01-2  ;  her  jealousy  of  mar- 
riages, ii.  553,  570-1,  iii.  88,  98,  297; 
Alen9on*s  courtship  of,  allegorized  in 
SaphOy  ii.  366-7,  alluded  to,  534 ;  re- 
presented by  Diana  and  Ceres  in  GalL, 
Loves  Met,,  ii,  259,  possibly  by  Pan- 
dora or  Luna,  256,  i.  390  note ;  sup- 
posed satire  of  in  The  Woman,  ib.,  i, 
63-4 ;  allusions  to  in  Midas,  i.  47  ; 
Lyly*s  petitions  to,  i.  64-6,  70-1,  75, 
378,  392  ;  her  appointment  of  him  to 
Revels'  Office  and  vague  promise  of 
the  Mastership  1588,  394;  her  com- 
plaint about  Tentes  and  Toyles,  66, 
71 »  3^3>  390 ;  lines  to,  in  Lok's  Eccle- 
siasies,6*j ;  relations  with  Essex  alluded 
to  Z.  M.  74,  iii.  297 ;  death,  i.  76 ; 
Lyly's  Funeral  Oration  on,  388-9, 
509-16  ;  at  Oxford,  ii.  534,  i.  379-80; 
at  Anne  Russell's  wedding,  381  note; 
pastoral  shows  offered  to  her,  407  ; 
speeches  to,  on  Ascension-day,  410-6; 
at  Theobalds,  417-9;  at  Cowdray, 
42 1-9 ;  at  Elvetham,  431-52  ;  at  Quar- 
rendon,  453-70;  at  Bisham,  472-7; 
at  Sudeley,  477-84;  at  Rycote,  485-90; 
at  Harefield,  491-504. 

Elvetham,  entertainment  at,  i.  431-52, 
405,  408.  522-6. 

Elyot,  Sir  John,  translation  of  Pint's  De 
Edticatiofte,  i.  352  sqq, 

Endimion,  text,  iii.  17-80;  introduc- 
tion, 5-15;  notes,  503-19;  editions, 
6,  8;  sources,  ii.  245,  iii.  9,  503;  the 
allegory  in,  9-10,  L  46,  separate  Essay 
on,  iii.  81-103,  physical  side  of,  82-3, 
ii.  255,  Court  side  of,  Halpin's  view,  iii. 


81, 86-7,  Mr.  Baker's  changes  rejected, 
87-8,  widened  scope  suggested,  88, 
loi,  it  258-9,  &C. ;  the  chancten  dif- 
cnssed,  iii.  89-101 ;  date,  10-3,  i.  46-7, 
Baker's  date,  1579,  untenable,  ih^  Mi. 
Spingam's,  iii.  1 3  note ;  criticism,  il 
246,  247,  249,  254,  258-9,  261-2,  268, 
269,  271,  273,  275-6  (stmctnre),  284 
(Tellus,  Sir  Tophas)  ;  marks  of  style, 
289-90;  poetry  in,  346,  292;  gate 
suggestions  for  Falstaflf,  •  Dogbmy, 
M.  N.  D.y  &c,  297,  ilL  81,  98-^ 
(Oberon's  speech). 

England,  William  Harrison*s  descrip- 
tion of,  used  in  the  *  Glasse,'  ii.  191-6, 
see  notes  526-30. 

Englands  Helicon,  poems  in,  from  Lyly's 
Enis,,  i.  409,  524,  530-1 ;  'doabtfnl' 
poems  taken  from,  iii.  435,  441. 

Entertainments  by  Lyly,  list  of,  i.  404; 
remarks  on  his  authorship,  379-86, 
404-5  ;  introduction  to,  404-9 ;  text 
of,  410-507;  notes  on,  with  detailed 
discussion  of  his  authorship  of  each, 
517-38 ;  importance  of  marginal  reff., 
i.  405-6. 

*  Ephoebus,  Euphues  and  his,'  text  of, 
i.  260-90;  its  relation  to  Plutarch's 
De  Educatione,  352-3  ;  Lyly's  addi- 
tions, ib. ;  notes  on,  352-64. 

Erasmus,  his  Adagia  cited,  i.  331,  334, 
ii.  487,  501,  508,  543,  560,  and 
often. 

Essays  in  this  Edition  : 
Life  of  John  Lyly,  i.  1-82. 
Biographical  Appendix,  i.  377-402. 
Text  and  Bibliography  of  Euphues,  L 

83-118. 
Euphues  and   Euphuism,    i.    119-75, 

Entertainments,  introduction.  L  404-9. 
Lyly  as  a  Playwright,  ii.  231-99. 
Italian  Influence  on  Lyly's  Plan's,  iL 

473-8,^. 
On  the  Allegory  in  Endimion,  iii.  81- 

103. 
Poems,  Introduction,  iii.  433-47. 

F.ssex,  Robert,  Earl  of,  sent  to  Ireland, 
i.  72  ;  his  revolt,  74  ;  represented  by 
Erisichthon,  ib.,  ii.  257,  259,  itL  297; 
poem  on  the  Bee  attributed  to,  446-7; 
his  fall  alluded  to  in  Lyly's  Second 
Petition  and  in  a  letter,  i.  70,  393-5. 

Essex,  Walter  Dcvereux,  Earl  of,  Lei- 
cester suspected  as  causing  his  death, 
iii.  96. 

Euphues  :  composition,  publication, 
and  success  of,  i.  19-24 :  revision  of, 
20.  43,  45,  107-12  ;  sources  of  iti 
matter,  154-9;  North's  Diall,  154-6; 
Plutarch,  156 ;  Pliny,  ib, ;  Ovid,  Hy- 


INDEX 


609 


ginns,  Aesop,  Cicero,  Caesar,  Aelian, 
ice.,  157-8;  Harrison,  Heywood, 
Tylney,  Gascoigne,  &a,  158-9;  Italian 
suggestions,  ii.  4^7, 470-80 ;  its  origin- 
ality— the  first  English  Novel,  159-^1 ; 
feminine  and  mo£m  interest,  160-1 ; 
the  tale,  161-3;  deficient  in  action, 
i6a ;  Part  II  the  best,  162-3 ;  mixture 
of  priggishness,  humour,  good  sense, 
and  pUTosophy,  163-4;  Shakespeare's 
intimate  knowledge  of,  164-75 ;  dose 
parallels  in*  HamUt^  i^4-5f  Rom,  and 
JuL  165-7,  -^^  ^'^^  ^^^  *^  Qaques), 
167-8,  many  others,  168-75;  titles 
suggested  by,  327. 
Bibliography  of,  83-118. 
List  of  Editions,  100-105 ;  five  pre- 
vious lists,  84. 
Earliest  editions  distinguished,  Part  I, 

85-951  Part  II,  95-7. 
Text  and  method  followed,  98-9. 
Textual  Footnotes,  explanation  of,  178, 
ii.  a,  iii.  4. 
Quartos  of.  Titles,  Colophons,  Results 
of  Collation  of,  106-18. 
Augmentations  in  second  edition,  107-8. 
Adaptation  of  17 16,  11 3-4. 
Arbcr's  Reprint,  114,  118,  85-7. 
Landmann  s  (partial)  Reprint  of  Part  I, 
104,  115,  138,  143,  I49>  154-^- 
Text  of.  Part  I,  i.  177-326. 
—  Part  II,  ii.  1-228. 
Notes  on.  Part  I,  i.  327-75. 
-*-  Part  II,  ii.  486-540. 
Euphuism:   first  use  of  term  L  119 
note;  modem  writers  on,  i.   119-20, 
143 ;     Professor    Arber*s    review    of 
tjpinion  on,  81,    115;    contemporary 
opinion  on,  79-80 ;  contemporary  dis- 
approval or  parody,  132-3, 385  note  5, 
150  note  3 ;  imitation  of,  79,  by  Greene 
and    Lodge,  148-9,  by  Shakespeare, 
152-4    and    notes,  ii.    287-8 ;    18th 
cent,  depreciation,  81  ;  Blount's  testi- 
mony about,  iii.  3. 

STRUCTURAL  MARKS  OF,  L  I20-30  : 

A.  (i)  Antithetic  balance  or  parisonity, 
120-2,  539-41 ;  (ii)  Rhetorical  ques- 
tions, 122  ;  (iii)  Repetition,  ib, 

B.  (i)  Alliteration,  simple  or  trans- 
verse, 123-4;  (")  Word-likeness — 
I.  complete  (consonance,  and  repeti- 
tion), 124;  2.  partial  (assonance, 
annomination,  rhyme,  puns,  and  word- 
play), 125-6. 

Logical  continuity  somewhat  neg- 
lected, 126;  occasional  loose  syn- 
tax, due  to  preoccupation  with  words, 
126-8;  vocabulary,  little  obsolete, 
128-30. 
Sentence-structure  in  Euphucs,^Z9~^^  • 


BOMO  ux 


ORNAMENTAL  DEVICES  OF,  I3O-4  : 

X .  Allusions  and  anecdotes— historical, 
or  invented,  130;    2.  Mythological 
allusions,  131 ;  3.  Natural  Hbtory — 
the  Similes,  131-4 ;  4*  Proverbs,  134. 
ORIGINS  OF,  134-42  :  classical  study, 
135,  Italian  influence  on  contempo- 
rary life,  135-6:    (1)  North's  Diall 
of  Princes  1557,  136-8;    Guevara's 
title,  editions, translations  from,  other 
works,  ib, ;  Lyly*s  debt  in  matter  and 
treatment,  154-^.    (2)  Pettie's  Fal- 
lace  of  Pleasure  furnished  exact  model 
of   Lyly*s    euphuism,    138-41,    and 
largely  of  handling,  141-2;    Lyly's 
additions  to  style  insignificant,  143. 
Earlier  English  Prose,  144;  Lvly  authori- 
tatively asserts  the  need  of  precision, 
elegance,  and  design,  145-7;  relation 
of  thought  and  language,  145  ;  Nash*s 
incoherence,  146  ;  Lyly's  defects,  148. 

Fairholt,  F.  W.,  edition  of  Lyly's  eight 
plays,  1858,  ii.  305  ;  details  of  his  text 
(see  under  *  Text,'  &c.,  in  introd.  to 
each  play). 

Fairies  in  Chaucer,  in  Lyly  {Elvetham, 
&c.),  in  Greene,  i.  525-6. 

Ferrers,  George,  i.  518,  526,  iii.  516. 

Feuillerat,  Mons.  Albert  G.,  discovers 
Lyly's  letter  to  Cotton,  &c.,i.  389, 395. 

Flattery  of  Elizabeth,  Euphues  i.  323, 
ii.  37-44,  85,  204-17  (Glasse) ;  Cam- 
paspe  Prol.  and  Epil.  at  Court  ii.  316, 
360,  331  11.  80  sqq.  (cf.  note  on  356 
1-  97)  >  Sapho  i.  31,  ii.  366 ;  Gallaihea 
ii.  454-5,  465;  Endimion  ii.  258-9, 
iii.  9,  and  essay  82-3,  &c. ;  Midas 
(Sophronia)  i.  47,  iii.  1 25-6,  &c. ; 
Loves  Met,  i.  74,  ii.  258-9 ;  Enter- 
tainments 1.  408,  &C. ;  Poems,  iii.  448- 
9,  474?;  Funeral  Oration,  i.  389, 
510-6. 

Fleay,  Rev.  F.  G.,  his  Biog.  Chron,  of 
the  English  Stage,  reasons  suggested 
for  delay  of  Part  II,  i.  21-2  ;  dates  for 
the  plays,  Sapho  ii.  367,  GalL  425, 
427,  End,  iii.  11  note,  Af.  Bomb.  167, 
Loves  Met,  296 ;  sees  polit.  allegory 
in  Camp,  ii.  550,  553 ;  detects  allegory 
of  Eliz.  and  Alen9on  in  Sapho,  ii.  257, 
367 ;  on  Abuses,  i.  382 ;  on  The 
MaycUs  Metamorphosis  iii.  337-8. 

Friendship,  as  a  subject,  i.  159  note, 
197-8,  233-4,  281-2,  ii.  05-100,  143, 
145,  i47-?>  329,  »>•  26,  31  ;  com- 
pared with  love  by  Geron  iii.  50; 
Harvey's  with  Lyly,  i.  7,  17  note,  77  ; 
reff.  to  De  Amicitia^  334. 

Funeral  Oration  on  Elizabeth,  i.  388-> 
9 ;  text,  509-16 ;  notes,  538-9. 

Rr 


6io 


INDEX 


Galia/Aea,  text,  it  429-72  ;  introduc- 
tion, 417-28;  notes,  504-74 ;  editions, 
418;  sources,  245,  420-4,475,476-7, 
481-2;  date,  424-7,  i.  32;  criticism, 
ii.  345.  246,  247,  2^9,  254,  256,  259. 
261,  263-4,  26^»  2^7,  268,  271,  272 
and  275  (structure),  281,  285,  297; 
rustic  comedy  in,  mixed  with  ideal 
pastoral,  281,  475 ;  marks  of  style, 
389 ;  poetry,  292  ;  present  form  pro- 
bably a  revision,  i.  32,  ii.  420-7; 
Petraican  love-conceits,  292. 

Gascoigne,  George,  no  contributor  to 
Lyly*s  style,  i.  144  ;  his  Adueniures  of 
F.  J.  partly  anticipates  Euphues^  159 ; 
Supposes,  1566,  ii.  252,  287,  473,  479; 
Pruutly  Pleasures,  1576,  suggested  by 
Italian  work,  ii.  474,  gave  slight  sug- 
gestions for  Gallalhea^  475,  and  for 
transformation  into  trees,  477  note,  ii. 
266  ;  learned  Italian  in  London,  479 
note  3. 

Cesta  Grayorum^  ^  594^5 »  I-yly*8  pos- 
sible hand  in,  L  380  and  note,  383. 

—  161 7-8,  song  in  Antimasque  of 
Mountebanks,  ii.  572. 

Glasse  for  Europe,  Euphues',  i.e.  an 
account  of  England  and  flattery  of 
Elizabeth,  ii.  191-216. 

Gongora,  Luis  de,  i.  151. 

Gosson,  Stephen,  his  Ephemerides  of 
Phialo  alluded  to  Euphues  ii.  99 ;  his 
description  of  the  lost  Straunge  Newes 
out  of  Affrick,  and  Lyl/s  possible 
authorship  of  the  latter,  i.  22  note. 

Greene,  Robert,  M.A.  of  Cambridge 
incorporated  at  Oxford,  1588,  i.  16 
note  5  ;  refutes  the  Harveys'  attack  in 
his  QviPt  58 ;  relations  with  Nash, 
58-9,  60  note  2 ;  his  end,  58,  79 ; 
Harvey's  revenge  on,  59;  his  Mena- 

phcn,  Nash's  epistle  to,  i.  51,  80  note, 
133  note,  146-7,  allusion  to  Euph,  in, 
385  note  5  ;  in  which  works  Enphu- 
istic,  148-9;  his  Planetomachia  and 
The  Woman,  ii.  245,  iii.  234-6 ;  Bacon 
and  Bungay  com^^xtd  with  Campaspe^ 
ii.  252,  254 ;  fairies  in  James  IV,  254, 
i.  52(3 ;  abrupt  transfer  in  course  of  a 
scene,  ii.  269 ;  '  Delphos '  in  Pandosto, 
271 ;  tenderness  of  his  women,  283;  dia- 
logue, 291  ;  use  of  Dumb  Show,  iii.  509. 

Greville,  Fu'ke,  interested  on  Lyly^s 
behalf,  i.  74-5,  77,  400;  iii.  439,  441. 

Guevara,  Antonio  de,  historiographer 
to  Charles  V,  i.  136-8 ;  his  Libro  del 
emperador,  &c.,  titles,  colophons,  &c. 
of  earliest  eds.  r^.,  Bsmer's  translation 
of,  and  North's,  ib, ;  other  works 
transl.  into  English,  137  note;  Land- 
mann  on,  138,  154-5;  action  subordi- 


nate, 141 ;  misogynist  tirades,  142, 
155  ;  form,  tone,  and  subjects  of  hi$ 
work  reproduced  io  Euphues  Put  I, 
154-6;  Part  II  unindebted  to,  156; 
country  and  court  opposed  by,  155. 
ii.  484, followed  in'  A  Cooling  Garde,' 
i.  246  1.  i3not& 

Gun  ton,  Mr.  R.  G.,  and  Lylj's  letters 
at  Hatfield,  i.  75,  389. 

Halpin's  essay  OberorCs  Vision,  vn 
theory  of  the  all^ory  in  Endimion,  i 
46,  iii.  9-10,  86-8,  90  note,  91,  94, 
^  note,  97, 98 ;  his  note  on  EIixabeth*s 
jealousy  of  marriages,  ii.  570-1  ;  view  of 
allegory  in  Midas,  ii.  360,  iiL  109-ia 

Harefield,  Entertainment  at,  L  491-504, 

381,  405*  533-7?  Lottery  at,  i  499- 

504- 
Harefield  Place,  history  of,  i.  533. 

Harvey,  Gabriel,  his  attack  on  Lyly  m 
Advt,  for  Papp-Hatchett,  writt.  1589, 
pub.  as  part  of  Pierce  s  Supertrog^ 
tion,  i.  57,  59 :  referred  to,  7  notes,  8, 
17  note,  24  note,  29  note,  33,  37,43. 
44.  5^  54  (note  2),  57,  59,  77  note, 
80  note,  131,  388;  degrees  at  Cam- 
bridge and  Oxford,  7,  16  notes ;  says 
nothing  of  Lyly  at  Cambridge,  16; 
acquaintance  with  Lyly  in  the  Savoy, 
1 7-8  note  ;  possible  satire  on  Lord 
Oxford  in  the  Three  Letters  1580,  30- 
I ;  his  own  account  of  the  matter  in 
Foure  Letters  1592,  ib. ;  impartial 
attitude  in  Marprelate  Controversy. 
57 ;  attack  on  the  London  plajrwrights, 
57-8,  answered  by  Greene,  58 ;  re- 
venge on  Greene.  59  ;  consequent  coo- 
troversy  with  Nash,  59-60 ;  pleads 
in  the  Court  of  Arches,  61  note; 
parade  of  friendship  with  Spenser,  63 : 
his  opinion  of  Euphues,  80  note;  of 
Pappe,  56;  perhips  saw  Lyly  in  the 
part  of  Midas,  37  ;  the  original  of  Sir 
Tophas,  iii.  100- 1. 

Harvey,  John,  the  third  brother,  L  58. 

Harvey,  Richard,  his  Astrological  Dis- 
course used  for  Gallathea,  L  32,  quoted 
from,  ii.  421-2 ;  Plaine  Percevall,  i. 
57 :  The  Lamb  of  God,  its  attack  oq 
Lyly,  Greene,  and  Nash,  57-8  and 
note ;  Greene's  reply,  ib. ;  reply  by 
Lyly  threatened,  59-60. 

Hazlitt,  Mr.  W.  C.,bis  Handbook  1867, 
editions  of  Euphues  here  rejected,  L 
84-5,  86 ;  on  ed.  1630,  105. 

Hazlitt,  William,  his  remark  on  Accins 
and  Silena,  ii.  246,  277 ;  misinterprets 
allegory  in  Endim.,  ii.  257  note. 

Hense,  on  Euphuism,  i.  119,  148  note, 
on  Lyly's  Anachronisms,  iu  271. 


INDEX 


6ii 


Hertford,  Earl  of,  i.  523. 
Hesiod,  quoted,  i.  363  ;  among  sources 
for  The  Woman  ^  passage  quoted,  iii. 

334. 
Heywood,  John,  his  Proverbts^  i.  158 

aDd  Notes  to  EuphueSy  vols,  i  and  ii 
passim ;  his  Interludes,  ii.  232 ;  in- 
fluenced by  Chaucer,  i.  401. 
Homer,  alluded  to  by  Lyly,  i.  158, 179, 
230  1.  13  (343)>  261  1.  8,  268  1.  4,  272 
1.   14,  ii.  5  (11.  21,  29),  18  1.  19,  25 

(11-  27,  33),  78  1.  5,  94  1.  I"  ('  see 
note),  96  L  16,  131  1.  31,  143  1.  19, 

183  1.  33»  197  (11-  »9»  32),  316,  431 

1.  2,  454  1.  24,  563,  &c 
Hospitals,  ii.  527;   see  also   'Savoy' 

and  '  Bartholomew's,  St' 
Howard,  Frances,  i.  523,  iii.  99. 
Humber,  bore  on  1571,  ii.  422-3,  565  ; 

Danes  invade  England  by,  ib, 
Hyginus,  C.    Julius,    his    Fabularum 

Liber y  used  by  Lyly,  i.  157,  344,  ii. 

421  {Gall.),  iii.  235  (JVoman). 

Ifiida,  her  name,  whence,  ii.  501 ;  a 
real  flame  of  Lyly's  ?  ib,,  i.  3-4,  385 ; 
pathos  of,  163. 

Incident  on  the  Thames,  L  22,  ii.  207, 

532. 

Incorporation  between  the  two  Uni- 
versities, L  16. 

Inhibition  of  Paul's,  and  Chapel,  Chil- 
dren, 1583,  i.  32 ;  inhibition  removed 
from  Paul's  Boys,  Ap.  26,  1585,  i. 
32  (ace.  to  Fleay  1587,  ii.  425),  from 
Chapel  Boys  1597,  iii.  295;  fresh  in- 
hibition of  Paul's  Boys,  temporary, 
1 589,  i.  53,  iii.  295,  permanent  bef. 
Oct    1 591,   i.   60,  removed    1598  or 

I599»  i-  72-3»  "»•  296. 
Italian  influence  on  Lyly,  Oxford's  tour, 
i.  31,  ii.  479 ;  Petrarch,  i.  135,  ii.  88, 
129, 199,  292 ;  Castiglione,  i.  135, 161 ; 
fashions  in  Euph,  ib, ;  *  the  Italio- 
nate  pen,'  146  (cf.  130) ;  Ariosto. 
Sannazarro.  Tasso,  see  under ;  plays 
how  far  indebted  to  Italy,  ii.  473-85 ; 
Italian  actors,  473  ;  '  Italionated,'  ii. 
88  1.  27. 

James  I,  King,  perhaps  relieves  Lyly, 
i.  397-8 ;  compliments  and  shows 
offered  to  on  King  of  Denmark's  visit, 
381-2,  505-7. 

Jaques,  Shakespeare's,  a  reproduction 
of  Lyly's  character,  Euphues,  i.  167-8. 

Jones,  Robert,  his  Song-Books,  iii.  434, 
'  doubtful '  poems  from,  444. 

Jonson,  Ben,  supposed  satire  on  Lyly 
in  Fastidious  Brisk,  i.  61,  74;  allusion 
by   Brisk  and  Fallace  to,  Euphues , 


149 ;  does  not  ridicule  Lyly's  style  in 
Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour  or 
Cynthia's  Revels,  151 ;  influenced  by 
Lyly,  ii.  243 ;  Catiline  and  Sejanus 
extend  Lyly's  example  of  transcript 
from  the  classics,  252 ;  sacrifice  of 
plot  to  'humours'  avoided  by  Moth, 
Bombie,  253;  CynthicCs  Revels  and 
Masques  indebted  to  Endimion^  &c. 
254,  292 ;  allusion  to  revival  of  Lodcs 
Met.  i.  73 ;  Subtle  resembles  Ariosto's 
Negromante,  ii.  477  ;  allusion  to  Lyly 
in  First  Folio  verses,  i.  79 ;  with  Lyly 
at  Theobalds?,  381,  385,  537,  at  Cot- 
ton's house  ?,  396. 

Jusserand,  Mons.  J.  J.,  his  The  Eng, 
Novel  in  the  Time  of  Shakespeare^  i. 
82,  lao,  160,  369. 

Juvenal,  iii.  208 ;  alluded  to,  ii.  76 
L  30  (note). 

King  of  Denmark^ s  Welcome,  i.  505-7, 
381-2,  537-8. 

Landmann,  Dr.  Friedrich,  his  (incom- 
plete) edition  of  Euphues,  Part  I,  i. 
104,  115,  119,  &c. ;  list  of  editions, 
84 ;  discussion  of  Euphuism,  1 19, 138  ; 
underrates  effect  of  contents  of  Eu- 
phues, 143;  Lodge,  149;  discovery  of 
editio  princeps  of  Euph.  anticipated 
by  Dr.  Sinker,  85 ;  the  first  to  exhibit 
Lyly's  debt  to  Guevara,  154-5. 

Latin  Grammar  of  Lilly  and  Colet, 
jokes  on  in  the  plays,  i.  34,  380,  ii. 
261,  328  1.  42,  463,  iii.  42-3,  197,  204, 
206  ;  in  Sudeley,  i.  483. 

Laws  of  Elngland,  ii.  529. 

Lee,  Sir  Henry,  rents  chambers  in  the 
Savoy,  i.  17  note;  cousin  of  George 
Wyatt  of  Boxley,  384 ;  employs  Lyly 
to  write  speeches.  Tilt-yard,  518,  and 
entertainment  of  Queen  at  Quarrendon, 
526-7,  text,  454-70;  probably  secures 
his  Parliamentary  seat  for  Aylesbury, 
384;  resigns  Championship  to  Cum- 
berland, 410-1 ;  poem  on  this  occa- 
sion, ib. ;  sons  of,  518. 

Leicester,  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of,  chan- 
cellor of  Oxford  University,  i.  8,  21 ; 
connexion  of  with  Lyly  in  1579  sup- 
posed by  Mr.  Baker,  21.  47  note,  iii. 
J  2-3,  95  note ;  probably  known  to 
Lyly,  18;  in  general  opposition  to 
Burleigh,  22,  47,  77;  goes  to  Nether- 
lands Dec.  10,  1585,  46;  original  of 
Lyly's  Endimion,  i.  46-7,  ii.  259,  iii. 
9,  81,  87-9,  102,  not  necessarily  with 
his  connivance,  i.  47 ;  project  for  his 
marriage  with  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, 
iiL  9,  90,  102 ;  marriages  with  Lady 


R  r  2 


6l2 


INDEX 


Sheffield  and  Lady  Essex,  87,  90-91 
note,  Elizabeth's  displeasure  at,  87-^, 
90  note,  99,  1 01 ;  visit  to  Chatsworth, 
94 ;  Sussex  his  enemy,  ib, ;  defended 
by  Sidney  against  Leicestet's  Common- 
wealth^ 95  ;  suspected  of  Essex'  mur- 
der, 96  and  note  a  ;  opposes  the  French 
match,  95,  1 01  ;  represented  by  the 
stock-dove  in  Sapho  s  dream,  ii.  562 
death,  i.  47. 

*  Letters  of  Euphues,*  i.  306-23,  notes 
on,  163,  369-74  ;  epistolary  form  bor- 
rowed from  Guevara,  369,  used  by 
Gascoigne,  159,  by  Richardson,  369. 

Letters  of  Lyly,  (i)  to  Burleigh  1574 
(Latin),  i.  13-4,  (2)  to  Watson  1582 
(printed),  2^7,  (3)  to  Burleigh  1582, 
28-9,  (4)  to  Cecil  1 594-5 »  389-90. 
(5)  to  Cecil  1597,  68-9,  (6)  to  Cecil 
1597-8,  391 »  (7)  to  Cecil  1598.  391-3, 
(8)  to  Cecil  1600-1,  393-5.  (9)  to 
Cecil  1602-3,  75,  (10)  to  Cotton  1605, 
395-6.  (Nos.  3-10  are  given  from 
Lyly's  autograph.) 

Littledale,  Professor  H.,  of  Cardiff, 
suggestions  from,  i.  401,  ii.  574,  iii. 
1 74  1.  29  note. 

Lodge,  Thos.,  his  imitation  of  Lyly's 
style,  i.  79,  1 49,  errata  ;  his  RoscUytuie^ 
ib,y  suggests  to  Shakespeare  to  revive 
Euphues  in  Taques,  107-8  (and  per- 
haps the  girls*  disguise  from  Galla- 
thea  ii.  254),  Phoebe's  sonnet  in,  prob- 
ably suggested  by  Lyly's  *  Hey  downe 
a  downe '  in  Englands  Helicon^  iii. 

442- 

Lok,  Henry,  his  Ecclesicutes^  67  ;  a  peti- 
tioner of  Cecil,  ib. 

Loves  Metamorphosis f  text,  iii.  299-332 ; 
introduction,  289-98  ;  notes,  563-9 ; 
editions,  2S9-91 ;  sources,  291-5,  ii. 
246,  477,  481-2 ;  date,  iii.  295-6,  i. 
45-^;  present  form  probably  a  re- 
vision, iii.  297-8 ;  treats  Unities  as  in 
Gall,  or  Endim.  298 ;  farcical  element 
absent,  perhaps  expunged,  ii.  249,  258, 
allegory  in,  258-60,  iii.  297  ;  criticism, 
ii.  249,  256,  260,  263,  264,  269,  272, 
273»  379  (structure),  281,  283,  285; 
marks  of  style,  289,  291,  293. 
Lucan,  Pharsalia  quoted,  i.  308  1.  10. 
Lyly,  John  : 

His  life  ;  born  1553-1554,  prob. 
Oct.  9,  1553— March  24,  i553-4»  »• 
1-2 ;  autobiographical  element  in 
Euphues,  2-4  ;  probably  son  of  Wil- 
liam Lyllye,  yeoman  of  Boxley  near 
Maidstone,  4-5,  29 ;  no  Will  of  father 
or  son  in  Somerset  House,  5-6 ; 
enters  Magd.  Coll.  Oxford,  spring 
1569;   reputation  there  as  wit  and 


madcap,  7-8,  15  ;  his  studies  there, 
8-1 2  ;  three  years'  absence  from  the 
University,  perhaps  due  to  plague, 
perhaps  to  some  tutorial  employ- 
ment, lo-ii  ;  his  later  attack  on 
Oxford,  12,  20,  273-6  (the  attack), 
324-6  (disclaimer),  359,  ii.  344-5  (re- 
petition); takes  H.A.and  M.  A.,6, 12 ; 
acquaintance  with  Burleigh,  12-15, 
385,  391-3,  ii.  198;  candidature  for 
Magd.  Fellowship,  i.  13-5  ;  Latin 
letter  to  Burleigh  on  this  subject, 
ib.]  unpaid  battclls-bill,  15  ;  status 
in  college  uncertain,  ib. :  degree  at 
Cambri(k[e,  and  probable  residence 
there,  16;  comparison  of  it  with 
Oxford,  ii.  193  ;  residence  in  the 
Savoy  Hospital,  1577,  ^^  earlier,  i. 
17-8  ;  acquaintance  there  with 
Harvey,  ib.j  probably  with  Spenser, 
18-9,  Greville,  75.  and  Dyer,  ib.^ 
iii.  443,  and  possibly  Sidney  and 
Leicester,  18,  21-2,  77,  iii.  88,  95, 
439 ;  Euphues^  Part  I,  finished  sum- 
mer 1578,  i.  19,  pub.  Dec.  1578, 
^. ;  relation  with  Sir  W'illiam  West, 
the  dedicatee.  4,  11-2,  19-20,  48; 
success  of  Euphues,  20;  delay  in 
writing  Part  II,  21-3  ;  probable  in- 
tervention of  Campaspe^  23,  ii.  311  ; 
Euphues,  Part  II,  pub.  spring  1580, 
i.  24 ;  secretary  to  Earl  of  Oxford, 
24,  28-9,  31,  44;  begins  writing  for 
the  stage  {Campaspe,  Sapho  and 
Phao),  24-5,  31  ;  letter  prefixed  to 
Watson's  Hecaiompathia,  25—7 ;  some 
love-poetry,  26 ;  falls  under  Oxford's 
displeasure,  27-8;  autograph  letter 
to  Burleigh  on  the  subject,  28-9; 
charge  against,  of  dealing  in  magic, 
29-30;  prejudices  Oxford  against 
Harvey,  30-1 ;  vicemaster  of  the 
Paul's  Boys,  1585,  33-4,  394;  his 
duties  in  this  connexion,  34—7  ;  per- 
haps composed  music  for  songs  in 
the  plays.  36,  ii.  265  ;  post  in  the 
Revels  Office  i^Clerk-Controller)  with 
Tentes  and  Toyles,  37-41  ;  probably 
appointed,  not  158  s,  but  15S8,  394 
(correcting  pp.  41 ,  44,  46) ;  duties, 
status  and  receipts  at  the  Office, 
41-2  ;  receipts  from  other  sources, 
42-3 ;  marriage,  43  ;  resident  in 
St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital,  prob- 
ably from  1588,  44,66-7,  7a;  pos- 
sibly acts  as  deputy  to  the  Press- 
Censors,  44,  392 ;  produces  Gallathea, 
Endimion,  1585-6?,  Lctfes  Meta- 
morphosis,  1586-9?,  Mideu^  »58^ 
90  ?,  44-7  ;  bad  verses  oirtupprcs- 
sion  of  Babington's  plot,  401-3  ;  sits 


INDEX 


613 


in  Parliament  (1588-9, 1592-3, 1597- 
8,  1601),  47-Q  (ana  see  384)  ;   en- 
listed   with    Nash    to    defend    the 
Bishops  against  Martin  Marprelate, 
50-1  ;    incident  described  in  Nash's 
ketume^  52  note;    Lyly*s  contribu- 
tion limited  to  Pappe^  and  perhaps 
Whip  for  an  Ape,  some  of  Mar- 
Martiney  and  share  in  one  or  both  of 
two  Anti-Martinist  plays,  52-4, 55-7, 
388  ;    perfunctory  performance,   56, 
59;    passages  from  Nash   throwing 
fight  on  the  matter  and  on  Lyly, 
notes    on    52-4,    58-60 ;    small    of 
stature,  60 ;  a  smoker,  60-1  ;  attends 
Andrewes*    sermons,   ib,  ;    Jonson's 
caricature   in   Fastidious  Brisk,  61, 
74 ;    probable  vanity  of  dress,  61 ; 
produces  Mother  Bombie  1590,  61 ; 
PauFs  Boys  suppressed,   1591,   62; 
probable  tribute  by  Spenser,  62-3 ; 
share  in  producing  royal  Entertain- 
ments from  1589  onwards,  379-84, 
404-9  ;  Softet  1590, 410-2 ;  at  Theo- 
balds, Cotudray,  Elvetham  1591, 417- 
52  ;   QuarrendoHy  Bis  ham  ^  Sudeley, 
Rycote   1592,  453-90  ;    Woman  in 
the  Moone  1 593,  63  ;   intended  satire 
on  Elizabeth  very  doubtful,  63,  390, 
ii.  256-7  note  (M^ziires)  ;   possible 
share  in   Gesta   Grayorum  1594,  i. 
380,  383 ;  these  shows  perhaps  caused 
the  Queen's  displeasure   1594,  383, 
390,  66,  71 ;   letter  to  Cecil,  1594-5, 
389-90 ;  his  children,  66  note ;  lines 
in  Lok*s  EccUsiastes^  S'j  ;    letter  to 
Cecil,   Dec.    22,   1597,  68-9,   394  ; 
another,  Jan.  23,  1597-8,  391 ;  quar- 
rel  among  the  Revels  officials,  69 : 
the  First  Petition  1598,   64-5,   394 
(date  corrected)  ;  poem  on  the  Bee, 
iii.  445-7;    letter  of  condolence  to 
Cecil,  Sept  9,  1598,  i.  391-3  ;  Lyly*» 
brother,  ib.  ;   assessments  made  on, 
72 ;   Paul's  Boys  recommence  1599  ?, 
72  ;    Loves  Met.  revised  with  addi- 
tions   and    excisions,   Maydes  Met. 
produced,  73  ;   Essex'  revolt,  74-5  J 
letter   to    Cecil,  P'eb.    27,   1 600-1, 
393-5;    the  Second   Petition   1601, 

70-I1  377.  394  (date  corrected); 
Harefield  Entertainment  1602,491- 
504 ;  letter  to  Cecil,  Feb.  4, 1602-3  ; 
referring  to  a  lost  Third  Petition, 
75  ;  Funeral  Oration  on  Elizabeth, 
509-16 ;  letter  to  Sir  Robert  Cotton, 
A  p.  30,  1605,  pointing  to  a  grant  of 
land,  395-8  ;  probable  share  m  King 
of  Denmark's  Welcome  1606,  381-2, 
505-7  ;  ^*^  Old  Mans  Lesson  1606, 
not  his,  399 ;  burial,  Nov.  30,  1606, 


76;  character,  3,  7-8,  11  note,  353. 
76-80 ;  contemporary  repute,  79-80 ; 
later  neglect  and  partial  recovery, 
81-2  ;  no  surviving  portrait,  23  note ; 
his  Poems,  here  first  collected,  of 
varying  degree  of  authenticity  and 
merit,  iii.  434-9 ;  his  distrust  of  him- 
self herein,  439. 

his  knowledge  of  Greek,  i.  400,  352, 
355  (note  on  266, 1.  13). 

his  knowledge  ot'  Medicine,  L  157. 
208,  212,  213,  241.  251,  ii.  55,  65, 
94,  "5»  "6  11.  6-35,  132,  39^,  543» 
iii.  ij8  1.  37,  134;  Italian  physicians, 
ii.  73, 109;  QiX^ii^  Aphorisms,  i.  241, 

345- 
his  knowledge  of  Music,  i.  7  note  4, 

8,  15,  34,  36,  ii-  3,  328  1.  50,  407 

1-  77»  451  1-  18,  472,  508,  551,  iii.  37 

L  129. 
his  knowledge  of  Painting,  i.  23  note  4, 

187,  ii.  1-7  and  notes,  339-40  and 

Camp,  passim, 
his  knowledge  of  Sport,  i.    38,   383, 

ii.  484,  173-4,  178-9,  440,  iii.  146-8. 
his    imagination     works    better     in 

general  conception  than  in  detail,  ii. 

247. 
his  invention,  alluded  to  by  himself, 

i-  71  '•  3»  65,  68-9,  390,  ii.  246,  484. 

Education,  views  on,  su  *  Euph.  and 
his  Ephoebus,'  and  notes  on,  i.  352- 
3  sqq. ;  experience  in,  i.  11, 34. 

Theology,  youthful  essay  in,  L  364; 
allusions  to,  8,  10,  252,  286-^ ; 
Nash's  remark,  52  note. 

lost  works  perhaps  by — Straunge 
Newes  out  of  Affrick,  i.  22  note ; 
LyUies  light,  60  note,  (i^\  two  or 
more  Anti-Martinist  plays,  53-4  and 
notes,  388 ;  Bellum  Grammatical, 
a  (Latin  ?)  play,  379-80 ;  Abuses^  a 
play,  382  ;  The  Hunting  of  Cupid, 

517. 
his  Plays,  Chronological  Table  of,  ii. 

230,  Essay  on,  231-99.  Text  of,  with 

Introductions    and    Notes,    vols,    ii 

and  iii. 

his  Protestantism,  i.  74  note,  124,  iii. 
no,  407  1. 16,  428  1.  30. 

his  reading,  desultory  but  wide,  i.  1 2  ; 
classics,  156-8,  400,  ii.  11 2-8,  244-5, 
306-9,  420-1,  iii.  234-5;  English 
authors,  154,  158-9,  see  also  under 
'Sources'  in  introductions  to  the 
several  plays  ;  Chaucer,  400-1  ; 
Italian  authors,  161,  175  note,  ii. 
479-83,  199  (see  also  under  Petrarch 
and  Ariosto). 

as  a  Poet,  i.  386-7,  408-9,  iii.  434-9 ; 
some  marks,    iii.  436-7;    qualified 


6i4 


INDEX 


nature  of  his  impulse,  439;  anony- 
mity, 434,  439  ;  satirizes  irregnlar 
mstre,  55 ;  verses  on  Eliza^th's 
death,  i.  389,  514-6  ;  see  also  imder 
*  Songs.' 
Lyly  as  a  Playwright,  ii.  231-99 ; 
Chronological  Table,  330. 

I.  Drama  before  Lyly^  231-43.  Mo- 
ralities, 231-3.  Mixed  kinds  before 
1580,  232-4.  Moralities  secularized 
the  drama,  234-6,  introducing  cha- 
racter, 235,  and  asserting  rights  of 
the  imagination,  235-6.  But  drama 
in  1580  still  undecided  in  methods, 
237,  in  stage-custom,  ib.^  in  vehicle 
and  literary  form,  238.  Illustra- 
tions: Edwardes*  Damon  andPitkias^ 
238-41,  critical  Prologue,  239,  grasp 
of  connexion,  239-40,  metrical  irre- 
gularity, 241 ;  Whetstone's  Promos 
and  Cassandra  some  improvement, 
242-3. 

II.  Lyiys  Dramatic  Work^  243-99. 
Lasting  influence    on    Shakespeare, 

343,  i.  153-4- 

1.  Invention  and  handling  of  materials  ^ 

244-7  (see  also  under  *  Sources'  in 
Introd.  to  each  play) :  his  subjects 
classical,  with  recombinations,  addi- 
tions, and  suggestions  from  contem- 
porary work  and  life,  244-6  ;  artistic 
sense,  346 ;  monotony  due  to  dia- 
logue, 246  ;  popular  elements,  247. 

2.  Use  and  fusion  of  different  species^ 
247-62.  Artistic  sense  of  form,  248, 
and  of  distinction  of  styles,  248-51 ; 
introduces  refined  ideal  Comedy,  248, 
251.  Classification  of  the  Plays,  249. 
Treatment  of  History  in  Canrpaspe, 
246,  249,  251-2,  288;  Farce  in  Moth, 
Bomb,  252-3,  farcical  element  in  all 
but  Loves  Met.  249 — Shakespeare 
imitates  his  farcical  scenes,  and  refined 
comic  style,  253 ;  Masque  and  Pas- 
toral in  SaphOf  Gallathea^  Endimion^ 
Midas ^  The  Woman,  253-4 ;  his 
models  in  this  kind,  ib.^  473-5,  481- 
4;  Allegory,  350,  pure  abstractions 
in  The  IVoman,  355 — Lyly  infuses 
concreteness  (i)  by  identifying  quali- 
ties with  the  classical  deities,  355, 
(3)  by  interweaving  physics,  355-6, 
(3)  by  introducing  real  personages 
under  a  mask,  356-60 ;  the  plays 
intelligible  without  the  allegory, 
357-8;  Sapho,  GalL,  Endim,,  Loves 
Met.\  varying  degree  of  fusion  of 
all^ory  with  plot,  359-60;  Satire 
in  The  Woman,  356  note,  other 
cases,  361 ;  Tragic  element  incon- 
spicuous, 361-2. 


3.  Construction  and  Technique,  262- 
79.  Through  him  the  idea  of  form 
and  art  passes  from  the  pseudo-clas- 
sics to  the  romantic  playwrights,  263. 
248,  244.  Sparing  use  of  classical 
devices,  263 ;  uses  disguises,  263-4, 
dreams,  ballet  (cf.  Aureola,  i.  449), 
264 ;  Songs,  264-5,  293,  iii.  434, 437» 
439,  their  omission  from  the  quartos, 
ii.  365 ;  stage-furniture,  265-6.  Treat- 
ment of  the  Unities,  366-70  (cf. 
*  Time  and  Place*  in  Introd.  to  each 
play);  their  Greek  derivation,  266, 
gradual  modification,  267  ;  Lyly  ob- 
serves Time  in  two  plays,  267,  Place 
in  all  save  two  (in  three  very  closely), 
268,  and  partial  continuity  of  scenes, 
ib.;  seven  cases  of  abrupt  transfer 
during  a  scene,  269 ;  disregards  scenic 
propriety  at  first,  270;  his  practice 
a  balance  between  rule  and  freedom. 
Anachronisms,  352,  270-1.  In  Plot 
he  understands  need  of  action,  and  of 
working  to  an  issue,  271-2,  excep- 
tions, 272  ;  fixed  character-scheme, 
balanced  groups,  273 ;  steady  advance 
in  plot-weaving,  in  fullness  and  com- 
plexity, and  in  the  connexion  of  the 
comic  matter — in  EruUmum  it  paro- 
dies the  main  action — the  plots  dis- 
cussed, 274-9. 

4.  Charcuterization,  279-86 :  descrip- 
tion of  one  character  by  another,  280 ; 
grasp  of  class-characteristics,  280-1 ; 
servants,  281-2  ;  excellence  of  his 
women  on  lighter  side,  282-3 ;  single 
figures  not  so  good,  284 ;  but  attempt 
to  individualize  membc^  of  a  group 
is  clear,  284-5. 

5.  Dialogue,  dictum,  and  poetry,  386- 
96.  Effect  of  care  for  style  on  matter 
not  always  the  same,  286.  Lyly 
makes  prose  the  vehicle  for  Comedy, 
286-7 ;  perceives  need  of  heightening 
with  wit  and  point — his  work  in 
Comedy  parallels  Marlowe's  in 
tragedy,  287 :  distinguishes  dramatic 
dialogue  from  ordinary  prose,  387-8 ; 
appropriateness  of  his  dialogue,  246- 
7,  250-1,  280-1,  288-9,  291  ;  dimin- 
ishing Euphuism,  289-90 ;  retains 
Latin  quotations  and  gnomic  utter- 
ances, 290 ;  seldom  coarse,  391 ; 
long  speeches  and  soliloquies  con- 
tinue, %b, ;  poetic  tincture  of  his  prose, 
instances,  292-3;  the  best  songs, 
293-4;  blank  verse  of  The  Wowum, 
294-5,  iii.  233-4  >  transition  to  prose 
for  comic  matter,  ii.  296. 

6.  Shakespearis  debt  to  Lyl/s  plmys, 
296-9 ;  detailed  reminisoenoes,  ik. 


INDEX 


6iS 


his  dnunatic  influence  on  successors, 
ii.  a43»  asa*  254,  a6i,  363,  276,  279, 
a8o,  283,  295,  296-9. 

gave  fonn,  and  rennement,  to  the 
stage,  248,  250-1,  255,  263,  279, 
286-7,  ^91*  ^^  Also  under  *  Imita- 
tions *  or  *  Stage- History  *  in  intro- 
ductions to  the  several  plays. 

his  plays  written  for  children,  ef- 
fect on  his  art  and  on  the  drama, 

i.3^7. 
Lyly,  Lylie,  lillie,  Lilly,  Lilley,  Lyllye, 

relatives  of  author — William  Lylly  the 
elder,  of  Maidstone  (his  great  grand- 
father?), 1500,  i.  385  note. 

John  Lylly  of  Maidstone,  1507,  i.  385 
note. 

William  Lyllye  of  Boxley  or  Maid- 
stone, 157 1-2  (his  father?),  i.  5-6, 

385-<^»  399- 
Mr.  Lyllye,  chaplain   of  the  Savoy, 

1598  (his  brother),  i.  392-3. 

Elizabeth  Lilley,  married  Rd.  Shakerly, 
(his  sister?),  i.  5. 

the  author's  children,  i.  66  note. 

?Mary  Lillie  of  Bromley,  1604,  i.  6 
note  (Appeal,  Som*.  Ho.). 

?  Geoffrey  Lyllie,  draper  of  London, 
cousin  of  the  preceding,  i.  6  note 
rVN'ill,  Som*  Ho.). 

?  Edward  Lyllie,  husbandman  of  Gil- 
den  Morden,  Camb.,  with  brothers 
John,  Richard,  Henry,  Thomas,  and 
a  mother  living  in  1599,  i.  6  note 
(Will,  Som«.  Ho.). 

others — *  Thomas  Lillye,  gent,'  has 
son  buried  at  St.  Barth.  the  Less, 
1607,  i.  66  note. 

John  Lyllie,  yeoman  of  Bramford, 
Suffolk,  1590,  i.  6  note. 

Richard  Lylly,  yeoman  of  Gloucester- 
shire, 1583-99,  his  Will,  Som^  Ho., 
i.  48. 

Emmanuel  Lillye,  died  in  the  Counter, 
prob.  son  of  the  preceding,  i.  66  note 
(Will,  Som«.  Ho.). 

William  Lilly,  the  grammarian,  i.  6 ; 
jokes  on  his  grammar,  ii.  261. 

George  Lyllye,  prebendary  of  Canter- 
bury, son  of  preceding,  i.  6  (Will, 
S.  H.). 

Edmund  Lilly,  Dr.,  Fellow  of  Magd. 
Coll.,  Oxford,  and  Vice-Chancellor, 
i.  6,  15,  48,  393. 

Peter  Lyllie,  delegate  of  Press-Cen- 
sors, 1597,  &c.,  i.  44  note,  39a. 

William  Lilly,  the  astrologer,  not  bom 
before  1602,  i.  60  note. 

John  Lilly,  assists  a  Jesuit  to  escape, 
i599>  i-  74. 


Mr.  Lilly,  atheist,  opponent  of  Joseph 
Hall,  1601,  i.  400. 
Lyrics,  unsigned  Elizabethan,  remarks 
on,  iii.  434-6. 

Magdalen  Collie,  Oxford,  William 
Lylly,  grammarian,  at,  i.  6 ;  George 
Lyllye,  preb.  of  Canterbury,  at,  i.  0 ; 
William  Camden,  chorister  at,  i.  9; 
Edmund  Lilly,  Fellow  of,  i.  6,  15 ; 
Dr.  Humphrey,  President  of,  i.  15 ; 
John  Lyly,  at,  1569,  i.  6-16  ;  the 
College  grammar-school,  i.  9,  10 ; 
migration  to  Brackley,  1571  or 
earlier,  i.  11  ;  Lyly  seeks  a  Fellow- 
ship at,  i.  12-15;  ^^6  ^c^*  ^*  ^' 
Wilson,  present  librarian  of,  infor- 
mation supplied  by,  i.  11,  15;  com- 
munarii,  semi-communarii,  socii,  &c., 
in,  i.  15. 

Magic,  Lyly  accused  of,  i.  29  ;  his 
ridicule  of  in  Euph,  ii.  114-8,  480; 
introduced  in  Endim.  ii.  247. 

Malone,  Edmund,  favourable  notice  of 
Lyly  in  his  Shakespeare^  I790f  i*  81 ; 
list  of  editions  of  Euphues^  84 ;  re- 
gards Lyly  as  subject  oi  Spenser's  lines 
in  Teares  of  the  Muses ,  62-3 ;  quota- 
tion horn  Jack  DrtinCs  Ent.y  73. 

Marlowe,  Christopher,  his  Tamhur- 
laine  establishes  blank  verse,  L  63 ; 
his  repute  and  Lyly's,  78,  79,  and  note 
4;  his  influence  on  Shakespeare  less 
than  Lyly's,  ii.  243  ;  glanced  at  in 
Pistol,  i.  151 ;  his  eflfect  on  Tragedy 
(vehicle,  and  manner),  paralleled  by 
Lyly's  on  Comedy,  ii.  287  ;  his  blank 
verse  and  Lyly's,  294,  iii.  233-4 ;  his 
comic  transition  to  prose,  296 ;  imi- 
tated by  Lyly?,  iii.  442,  562. 

Afar- Mar  tine  J  portions  of,  iii.  423-6 ; 
notes,  591 ;  authorship,  i.  387-8. 

Marriage,  discussion  of,  i.  228-30,  283 
11.  5-1 1,  ii.  58-63,  158-9;  from  Plut. 
Coniug.  Pracepta  and  Tylney's  Flower 
of  Friendships  ii.  223-7;  Diana's  ser- 
mon reflects  Elizabeth's  jealousy  of,  ii. 
570-1 ;  the  Queen's  changing  attitude 
towards,  i.  45. 

Martin  Marprelate  Controversy,  i.  49- 
60 ;  Prof.  Arber's  Introductory  Sketch, 
49-51  notes,  &C. ;  the  Martinist 
writers,  49-50 ;  the  .Bishops  enlist 
secular  pens  in  their  defence,  50-1 ; 
methods  adopted  by  Lyly  and  Nash, 
51-2;  Anti- Martinist  plays,  52-4  and 
notes,  ii.  257-8,  action  of  the  authori- 
ties against,  i.  53 ;  pamphlets  and 
lampoons  on  either  side,  49-^2,  54-9* 
387-8  ;  Pappe  with  an  Hatchet,  55-7, 
text  of,  iii.  393~4i3»  introduction  to. 


6i6 


INDEX 


388-92,  notes,  573-^9 ;  Alm(md  for  a 
Parrot  not  Lyly  s,  i.  56  note ;  the 
Harveys'  share  in,  57,  resultant  paper- 
war  between  Greene,  Harvey,  and 
Nash,  58-60 ;  Whip  for  an  Apt  pos- 
sibly Lyly's,  i.  52,  57,  iii.  415-6,  text 
of,  iii.  417-32  ;  Mar-Martine  per- 
haps partly  Lyly's,  i.  387-8,  text,  iii, 
433-6. 

Mary,  Qneen  of  Scots,  the  original  of 
Tellas,  iii.  89-91 ;  plan  for  her  mar- 
riage vrith  Leicester,  90,  103  ;  her 
captivity  under  Shrewsbury,  93-4, 
under  Paulet,  02 ;  procures  marriage 
of  Lord  Chas.  Stuart  with  £liz.  Caven- 
dish, 94,  98,  100 ;  '  Romish  lesabell,* 
439. 

Maydts  Metamorphosis ^  The^  text  of, 
iii.  341-87  ;  introduction,  333-9 ; 
notes,  569-73;  editions,  333;  argu- 
ment, 335  ;  date,  336 ;  arguments  for 
and  against  Lyl/s  authorship,  335-7, 
probably  retouched  by  Lyly,  337,  i. 

73. 

Metre,  progress  followed  by  in   early 

drama,  ii.  238  ;  of  Edwardes,  340-1 ; 
of  Whetstone,  342 ;  vehicles  regular- 
ized by  Lyly  and  Marlowe,  386-8 ; 
lyrical  element  admitted,  294-5 ;  blank 
verse  of  Lyly  and  Marlowe  lA,  iii. 

233-4- 
Mdzi^res,  his  Pr^cUcesseurs  et  Contem- 

porains  de  Shakespeare^  i.  119,  135; 
on  the  influence  of  euphuism  upon 
Shakespeare,  152-3  note;  his  sugges- 
tion of  a  satire  on  Elizabeth  in  Pan- 
dora, ii.  356-7  note,  i.  63-4. 

Midas,  text,  iii.  113-62;  introduction, 
106-12;  notes,  519-37;  editions, 
106-8;  source,  108-9,  ii.  245;  alle- 
gory in,  iii.  109-10,  i.  47,  ii.  357, 
criticized,  360;  date,  iii.  iio-ii; 
imitations,  112;  criticism,  ii.  248-9, 
250,  254,  357,  363,  364,  368-0,  270, 
371,  373,  373,  376-7  (structure),  383, 
384 ;  marks  of  style,  289 ;  poetic 
phraseology,  393. 

Mizanld,  Antoine,  French  physicist,  ii. 

537- 
Money,  purchasing  power  of  in  Lyly*s 

time,  i.  5,  43,  533. 

Montacute,  Lord,  i.  531. 

Moral-Plays,  Moralities,  stages  in,  ii. 
331-3;  their  function  in  the  drama's 
development,  334-6;  their  use  of 
allegorical  abstractions,  332,  350,  353, 
255»  258,  iii.  83. 

Morley,  Prof.  H.,  his  opinion  of  Eu- 
phueSf  i.  78 ;  rejects  political  allegory 
in  EtuUmion^  iii.  83;  his  copy  of 
Euphues,  i.  83,  85,  87-93,  95-8,  108- 


9?  115  >  Quarterly  essay  on  Euphuism, 
119;  English  Writers  ib.  (quoted 
passim). 

Mother  Bombie^  text,  iii.  171-338;  in- 
troduction, 164-^;  notes,  537-54; 
editions,  164,  166;  no  special  source, 
167,  ii.  345,  478;  date,  iii.  167-8; 
time  occupieid,  168;  scene  unchanged, 
169;  criticism,  ii.  346,  350,  353-3, 
364,  368-9,  371,  373,  37^  (structure), 
384;  Nash*s  allusion,  i.  61  note. 

Mountebanks^  Antimasque  of,  ii.  573. 

MSS.  examined  for  Lyly*s  Poems,  iii. 
438,  444-5. 

Munday's  Banquet^  'doubtful'  poems 
from,  iii.  439-40. 

Musa,  Antonius,  Augustus*  physician, 

ii.  543- 

Nash,  Thomas,  allusions  to  Lyly  in 
Haue  with  you^  i.  8,  59-61  ;  his 
Anatoniie  of  Absurdities  51  ;  epistle 
to  Greene's  Menaphon^  51,  80  note, 
133  note,  146-7,  reflections  aimed  at 
Lyly*s  style  in,  146-7 ;  style  of  his 
earlier  prose,  56  note,  146,  147; 
Martinis  Months  Minde^  51-5  and 
notes;  An  Almond  for  a  Parrot,  51, 
56  note,  iii.  1 1 1 ;  Retume  of  Pasquill^ 
anecdote  of  Lyly  in,  i.  52  note,  descrip- 
tion of  Anti-Martinist  plajrs  in,  53-4 
notes,  date,  55  ;  Pierce  Penilesse  1592, 
59;  Strange  Newes  1593,  59,  quota- 
tions from,  59-60  notes  \Jacke  Wilton, 
dedication  of,  56  note,  picture  of  the 
Court-page  in,  ii.  383  ;  his  opinion  of 
Euphues,  i.  60  note  3,  80,  146-7 ; 
relations  with  Greene,  54  note  3,  58-^, 
60  note  3;  alluded  to  (by  Harvey?) 
in  Marre  Mar-Martin,  387-8;  ques- 
tion of  his  authorship  of  the  Whip, 
iii.  415-6;  possibly  wrote  some  of 
Mar-Mortine,  416. 

Navarre,  Queen  Margaret  of,  ii,  535. 

Norris,  Lord,  his  wife  and  sons,  i.  533. 

North,  Sir  Thomas,  his  Diall  of  Princes 
I557>  i'  20,  Lyly's  model  for  treatment 
and  subject  matter,  136-8,  154-6; 
quotations  from.  343,  347,  ii.  531  ;  his 
transl.  of  Plutarch  used  for  Campospe, 

ii-  307-?,  253. 

Novel,  Euphues,  the  first  English,  i.  20, 
159-61 ;  Part  II  deserves  that  title 
best,  ib,y  ii.  486 ;  inmiature  methods 
of,  i.  14 1-3,  163-3,  ii-  5^2. 

Olde  Mans  Lesson,  &*c..  An,  Lyly'i 
authorship  suggested  and  disallowed, 

i.  399-400. 
Ovid,  Lyly*s  chief  source  for  mythology, 
i.  157,  ii.  344-6,  Sapho,  iL  364,  Gall. 


INDEX 


617 


430,  EtuL  iiL  9,  Mid,  109,  Lcves 
Met.  391-a. 

Oxford  in  16th  century,  curriculum  in- 
determinate, i.  8-9,  details  supplied 
by  Mr.  Andrew  Cl^ke,  i.  9  note; 
degrees  at,  i.  9-10;  'dispensations/ 
i.  8,  10,  11;  'graces/  i.  8;  students 
often  engaged  in  teaching,  i.  1 1  ;  visi- 
tations of  the  Plague,  i.  8,  10,  11  ; 
Lyly*s  attack  on  the  morals  and  disci- 
pline of  in  '  Eaphues  and  his  Ephoebus  * 
under  name  of  Athens,  i.  273-6  ;  com- 
ments on  this  attack,  i.  1 2, 359 ;  Lyl/s 
disclaimer  in  address  to  the  Gentle- 
men Scholers,  i.  324-6 ;  attack  repeated 
in  CampcLspe^  ii.  344-5,  550 ;  compared 
with  Cambridge  in  the  *  Glasse/  193  ; 
the  Queen's  visits  to,  213,  534,  i.  379- 
So,  531  ;  Carfax,  ii.  494. 

Oxford,  Edward  de  Vere,  Earl  of,  rents 
tenements  in  the  Savoy,  i.  17;  dedi- 
catee of  Euphuts  Part  II,  24 ;  Lyly's 
master,  1^.,  28-9,  31,  44;  bis  lost 
comedies,  24 ;  his  company  of  *■  boyes,' 
ib,y  32 ;  dedicatee  of  Watson's  Heca- 
tompcUhta^  25 ;  his  suspicious  and 
quarrelsome  temper,  27 ;  his  dis- 
pleasure with  Lyly,  28;  possibly 
originating  in  Lyly's  tale-bearing  in 


Pappe  with  an  Ilcttchtt^  text,  iii.  393- 
413;  editions,  388-90;  introduction, 
389-92  ;  notes,  573-89;  place  in  the 
controversy,  i.55-7 ;  Harvey's  reply,  ib. 

Parliaments  in  which  Lyly  sat,  i.  47-9 
and  note,  384. 

Pasquin  et  Marforio^  i-  55* 

Pastoral,  Dramatic,  in  England,  i.  406- 
8,  383,  ii.  253-4;  pastoral  in  Gall.^ 
Loves  Met,.,  Midas^  precedes  Lyly's 
Entertainments y  ii,  250,  474 ;  Mr. 
Thomdike's  remarks  on,  i.  407-8,  ii. 
474  ;  comic  rusticity  in,  ib, ;  Lyly's 
examples  more  English  than  Italian, 
474,  477-9  ;  owes  something  to  Sanna- 
zarro  and  Tasso,  479-84 ;  sec  also  ii. 
248,  256,  266,  377-8,  285 ;  Endim, 
hardly  a  pa>toral,  i.  40 ;  Lyly  elimi- 
nates pessimism,  ii.  484  (but  contrast 
Cowdray^  \,  426) ;  idyllic  grace  in 
Call,  and  The  IVoman,  ii.  254,  294-5, 
297-8. 

Pausanias,  i.  35 ;  alluded  to,  ii.  97  1.  3 
(note),  iii.  429  1.  42  (note). 

Pecle,  George,  i.  26 ;  Old  IVives  Tale^ 
ii.  253,  oracular  fountain  in,  borrowed 
from  Endimion,  254,  292;  Arraign- 
ment of  Parisy  poetry  in,  394 ;  Her- 
mit's  speech   at  Theobalds   I59i»  i. 


385,  519;  not  the  author  of  the  Tilt- 
yard  *  Sonet/  J 1 7,  nor  of  Gardener's 
or  Molecatchers  Speeches,  519-30. 
Penry,  John,  the  Martinist,  L  16  note, 

49-5o»  55»  ^• 
Petitions  to  the  Queen,  Lyly*s,  (i)  1598, 

text,  i.64-5,  date,  393,  304  (correcting 

Life,  33,  64),  unfavourable  reception  of 

recorded  in  Bet  poem,  i.  386,  393,  iii. 

446 ;  (3)  1601,  text,i.  70-1,  378,  date, 

394,  allusion  to  Tcntes  and  Toyles, 

40»  71,  383*  390;  (3)  (lost)  1603-3,  i. 

75.  389*  397  ;  copies  of  (1)  and  (3)  i, 

64,  75,  377- 
Petrarch,  influence  at  Florence  and  oa 

Elizabethan  poetry,  i.   135,  iii.  436; 

studied  by  Camilla,  iL   139,  cf.  199; 

recalled,  i.  513,  ii.  88,  cf.  note;  Pe- 

trarcan   love-conoeits   in   scenes  with 

Cupid  of  Gall,  and  Laves  Met.,  393. 

Pettie,  George,  his  Pallace  of  Pleasure 
1576,  i.  30,  Lyly's  model  for  style, 
136  ;  his  language  sometimes  borrow- 
ed by  Lyly,  138  note;  examples  from 
Pettie  of  all  the  marks  of  style  dis- 
cussed under  Euphuism,  139-43  ;  bad 
use  of  metrical  rhythm,  143 ;  preface 
to,  160. 

Phoenix  Nest,  The,  dialogue  from 
Quarrendon,  i.  458-63;  Mr.  Bullen 
on,  iii.  436 ;  *  doubtful '  poems  from, 
440-1. 

Place  and  Time,  see  *  Unities,  the.' 

Pliny,  Lyly's  large  use  of,  i.  156,  146, 
23,  ii.  306 ;  quoted  in  Notes  passim. 

Plutarch,  Lyly  s  large  drafts  on,  i.  156, 
146,  ii.  307-8;  quoted  in  Notes  pas- 
sim ;  chief  works  laid  under  contnbu- 
tion,  i.  156. 

Poems,  Doubtful,  by  Lyly,  iii.  448-503, 
i.  386-7 ;  whence  taken,  iii.  443 ; 
introduction  to,  434-47 ;  verses  on 
Babington's  plot,  427-32,  i.  401-3  ; 
Anti-Martin ist  verse,  iii.  415-26,  i. 
387-8  ;  on  death  of  Elizabeth,  i.  514- 
6,  389 ;  in  the  Entertainments,  408- 
9  :  see  also  under  *■  Songs.' 

Poetical  Rapsody,  Davison's,  i.  519, 
534-5,  »>•  435  ;  poem  from,  443-3. 

Popular  types  and  elements  in  the  plays, 
ii.  347. 

Powle,  Sir  Stephen,  his  dated  copy  of 
Lyly's  second  Petition,  i.  377-8,  394. 

Progresses  of  Elizabeth,  1591,  1592, 
1603,    i.    519,   531,  533,    526,   539, 

535-<5. 

Prologues  and  Epilogues,  ii.  363  note 
3;  in  Campaspe,  304;  acknowledge- 
ment of  allegorical  intention,  ii.  358, 
iii.  85  {Endim,), 

Proverbs,  a  feature  of  Euphuism,  i.  134, 


6i8 


INDEX 


141,  401,  ii.  390,  of  Elizabethan  verse, 
iii.  436. 
Pyxnms,  Barleigh*s  house,  i.  520. 


Quarrendon,  Speeches    at,  i.  453-7®> 
405,  526-9- 


Register  of  Oxford  University,  entries 
about  Lyly,  i.  i,  6  notes,  about  Har- 
vey, 7  note  ;  edited  by  Mr.  Andrew 
Clark,  9;  details  of  University  work 
bearing  on  the  period  of  Lyl/s  resi- 
dence,  p  note ;  entries  of  Cambridge 
M.A.*s  incorporated  M.A.*s  of  Oxford, 
16  note. 

Registers  of  some  London  churches,  i. 
44  note ;  of  St.  Bartholomew  the  Less, 
43-4,  66  note,  67,  76,  386. 

Revels  Accounts,  cited  i.  24,  34  note, 
38  note,  41,  42,  335,  407,  ii.  266,  310, 
425-6,  500,  502,  542,  552;  gap  in 
(Nov.  1585 — Nov.  1587),  iii.  11  note, 
12  ;  PauVs  and  Chapel  Children  not 
mentioned  at  Christmas  1583-4,  i.  52  ; 
Lyly's  name  not  found  in,  i.  41,  398. 

Revels,  Office  of  the,  Lyly  not  a  can- 
didate for  the  Mastership  in  1579,  i. 
21-2  ;  no  veto  of  on  SapAOf  31;  Lyl/s 
appointment  in,  37-41,  394;  advised 
to  aim  at  the  Mastership  of,  65,  33 ; 
the  reversion  promised  to  Buck  1597, 

.  granted  1603,  68,  391 ;  properties 
moved  from  Warwick  Inn  to  Black- 
friars,  38,  25  note ;  office  moved  to 
the  Priory  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem 
in  Clerkenwell  before  1571,  34,  38; 
gift  of  the  Priory  to  Lord  d'Aubigny 
16 10,  38 ;  amalgamation  of  properties 
with  those  of  Tentes  and  Toyles  al- 
ready at  St.  John's,  38-9;  connexion 
of  with  Tentes  and  Toyles,  37,  illus- 
trated from  a  MS.  of  1573,  39-41; 
duties  and  receipts  of  the  officers, 
41-2,  70 ;  lending  out  of  costumes, 
41  note  2,  71  ;  properties  employed 
at  Harefield  1602,  381,  383;  Queen*s 
complaint,  66,  71,  383,  390;  appeal 
of  workmen  for  pay  in  arrcar,  69 ; 
Masters  of.  Sir  Th.  Cawarden,  38,  40, 
Sir  Th.  Benger,  39,  Edmund  Tylney, 
21,  69,  Sir  Geo.  Buck,  68;  other 
officers,  Phelipps,  Blagrave,  Kirkham, 
Buggyn,  Honings,  Pagenham,  38, 
40-1  ;  informal  connexion  between, 
and  the  choirs,  35,   34  ;    two  annual 

Eeriods  of  active  service  in,  42  ;  re- 
earsals  at,  34 ;  John  Dauncey,  porter 
of,  38  ;  Ga/i,  and  Laves  Met,  possibly 
censured  by  Master,  ii.  426-7,  iii.  297. 


Robinson,  Clement,  his  HandefuU^  Arc., 
'doubtful'  poems  from,  iii.  440. 

Russell,  Lady,  of  Bisham,  and  her 
daughters,  i.  381,  529-30. 

Rycote,  Speeches  at,  i.  485-90,  532. 


Sannararro,  his  Arcadia,  ii.  474 ;  sug- 
gestions for  Euphues  and  plays,  ii. 
479-81 ;  his  Ecloga  Piscatoria,  and 
Loves  Met,^  ii.  481. 

Sapho  and  Phao,  text,  ii.  369-416; 
introduction,  362-8;  notes.  554-64; 
editions,  362-4;  sources,  364-6,  244, 
254,  482-3;  allegory,  366-7,  244, 
258-60;  delay  in  printing,  i.  31-2. 
ii.  368 ;  date,  367-8,  i.  25  ;  criUcism 
of,  ii.  246,  248,  254,  261,  263,  264, 
270,  271,  273,  280,  282,  a88,  291-2; 
continuity  of  scene  or  Act,  268 ;  struc- 
ture, 272,  274-5 ;  portraiture  of 
women,  282-3  ;  marks  of  style,  289. 

Savoy  Hospital,  the,  history  of,  i.  17-8 ; 
masters  of,  ib.\  chaplains  of,  392; 
Lyiy's  brother  a  chaplain  of,  ^.; 
Lyly  resident  there  1577  or  before  to 
1585  or  1588, 18, 44  ;  makes  Harvey's 
acquaintance  there,  18 ;  other  resi- 
dents, 17  note  3;  gambling  in,  18; 
Loftie's  Memorials  of,  17-8. 

*  Scarborows  warning,'  i.  527. 

Scene,  abrupt  trans&r  of,  ii.  269-70, 
242,  548 ;  continuity  of,  ii.  268 ;  how 
far  the  Unity  of  Place  observed,  ib, 

Schiicking,  Herr  L.  L.,  work  on  con- 
nexion of  English  with  Italian  stage, 

".  475-9- 

Scot,  Reginald,  his  Discoturie  of  Witch- 
craft used  for  Gallatkea^  i.  32,  401, 
ii.  423-4. 

Sententia  Pueriles,  see  *  Cato,  Diony- 
sius.' 

Sentence-Structure  in  EuphucSy   Note 

on,  i.  53^41- 
Shakespeare,  William,  obscure  in  1591, 
i.  62 ;  remark  about  child-actors,  36; 
his  early  clowns,  adumbrated  in  Manes 
{Camp'\  ii.  547,  perhaps  influenced 
Lyly  in  Gunophilus,  63,  iii.  233; 
Mids.  Nighfs  Dream,  &c.  influenced 
by  The  tVoman,  iii.  232-3,  or  by 
Endimion,  ii.  297-8;  his  rise  un- 
fortunate for  Lyly,  i.  78;  the  cause 
of  revived  study  of  Lyly.  81  ;  parody 
of  euphuism  1  Hen,  TV,  153,  150 
notes ;  his  prose  influenced  by  Ly1y*s 
euphuism,  150, 152-4,  list  of  passages^ 
153  note;  Loves  Lab.  Lost  ridicules 
courtiers  and  empty  talk  rather  than 
euphuism,  151,  ii.  262 ;  other  instances 
of  his  ridicule,  i.   151-2 ;    his  debt, 


INDEX 


619 


in  direct  reminiscence,  to  Euphues 
in  HamUt,  164-5,  Kom,  and  Jul, 
165-7,  in  Jaaaes,  167-8,  in  many 
other  plays,  108-9,  compAnitive  table 
of  passages,  169-75 ;  Lyly  his  chief 
dramatic  model,  ii.  243 ;  variety  in 
repetition,  246,  285-6 ;  Hymen  in  As 
You  Like  Ity  the  scroll  in  CymbelifUy 
350;  draws  on  Plutarch,  after  Lyly, 
252;  2  Htfi,  F/ and  Camp.y  252; 
imitates  Lyly*s  farcical  scenes,  and 
refined  comic  style,  253 ;  fairies  of 
M.  N.  D.  and  Merry  IVives,  cf.  En- 
dim,  iii.  59-60,  and  Aureola  i.  449; 
superior  truth  and  humanity  over 
Lyly's,  ii.  262,  296;  L.  L.  L.  struc- 
tural likeness  to  Lyly,  262,  scene  of 
love  confessions,  297,  other  points, 
276,  iii.  13 ;  advancing  skill  in  con- 
necting comic  matter  with  main  action, 
270;  parody  of  main  action,  snggested 
by  Endimion,  276;  learnt  dramatic 
architecture  from  Lyly,  279;  extends 
Lyly*s  trick  of  describing  one  character 
by  mouth  of  another,  280;  debt  to 
Lyly*s  women,  282 ;  succeeds  to  im- 
provements in  form  made  by  Lyly  and 
Marlowe,  287,  and  to  Lyly's  dialogue, 
287-8,  long  speeches,  291,  and  fusion 
of  lyric  feeling  with  dramatic  work, 
294-5  '*  sanimary  of  his  debt  to  Lyly*s 
plays,  296 ;  disguised  girls  in,  297 ; 
detailed  reminiscences  ofLyly's  pla3rs, 
296-9,  and  Notes  passim;  rustic 
comedy  in  Z.  Z.  Z.  and  As  You  Like 
Ii  probably  suggested  by  Lylj^s  En- 
tertainmentSy  474-5 ;  perhaps  at  Cot- 
ton's house,  i.  396 ;  Othello  first  pro- 
duced Harefield,  Aug.  1602,  381. 
Ship-building,  alluded  to  in  Gallaihea^ 

"•  425»  438  1.  7»i  i-  32. 

Shrewsbury,  Earl  and  Countess  of, 
originals  of  Geron  and  Dipsas,  iii. 
97-8 ;  custody  of  Mary,  93-4;  protest 
of  the  Earl  before  Privy  Council,  97. 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  Thomas  Cooper  his 
tutor  c.  1567,  1.  10  note;  probably 
known  to  Lyly,  18 ;  Leicester's  nephew, 
goes  with  him  to  Netherlands  end  of 
>  585, 46 ;  death,  1^. ;  original  of  Lyly's 
Enmenides,  467,  ii.  259,  iiL  9,  95  ; 
shares  Leicester's  opposition  to  the 
French  match,  iii.  95 ;  his  flame  for 
Penelope  Devereux,  represented  in 
Eumsnides  and  Semele,  iii.  g6 ;  Astro- 
phel  and  Stella ^  iii.  96,  i.  80  (allusion 
to  Lyly's  style)  ;  Dra5rton's  allusion  to, 
i.  80,  133  ;  Harvey's,  ib, ;  his  Apologie 

for  Poetrie,\\A  reflections  on  euphuism, 
^  32-3,  not  the  first  dramatic  criticism, 
ii.  239,  its  distinction  between  farce 


and  comedy,  ii.  251,  upholds  Unities, 
267 ;  his  Arcadia^  its  carelessness  of 
construction,  i.  146-47,  its  stilted 
metaphor,  149-50 ;  Arcadianism  super- 
sedes Euphuism,  ib, 

Silixsedra,  Mount,  ii.  540,  i.  167-8. 

Similes  from  Natural  History,  from 
Pliny,  i.  131-2,  &c.,  from  Bartholo- 
maeus  Anglicus,  i.  132,  332-3,  &c, 
from  Aelian,  158,  ii.  513,  from  Besti- 
aries (?),  336,  ii.  514 ;  the  toad,  i.  335  ; 
from  Pettie,  332,  334,  336  ;  ridicule  of 
them,  132-4,  150-1  note,  386  note; 
probably  borrowed  by  Shakespeare, 
169  and  note. 

Sinker,  Dr.  Robert,  first  identifies  ed. 
princ.  of  Euphues,  i.  85. 

Social  customs  as  shown  in  Euphues, 
i.  135,  162,  198  11.  9-1 1,  199  11. 13-21, 
33-4  (cf,  213  1.  19),  200  11.  14-24, 
203 11.  28-9,  215  II.  14-6,  217  11.  30-3; 
ii.  9  11.  1-2,  35  11.  18-20,  54  IL  22-31, 
55  11.  12-4,  58  11.  1 1-2  (cf.  70  1.  11), 
69  11.  24-6,  77  11.  34-7,  78  11.  24,  30 
(proxy  wooing),  84  11.  15-20,  103 
11. 19-20,  33-6  (cf.  104  I.  8,  105  1.  25), 
133  11-  3«-3.  136-7  H.  4-6,  27,  3-4, 
17,  161  11.  16-7,  162  11.  26-9,  33  sqq. 
(522  notes),  186  11.  I.  sqq.,  i94-5> 
198-9,  201  1.  27;  218  11.  25-35,  220 
!•  35»  226  11.  21-6. 

Songs,  21  out  of  32  preserved  by  Blount, 
ii.  264:  why  not  in  quartos,  ii.  265,  i. 
36,  Add. ;  compared,  293-4;  the  missing 
nine,  265,  suggestions  for,  iii.  440; 
unequal  merit,  i.  387;  Lyly's  title  to 
corroborated  by  Entertainments  and 
Poems,  i.  386-7,  iii.  434,  439. 

Spenser,  Edmund,  probably  knew  Lyly 
in  1578-9,  i.  18-9,  iii.  439 ;  tribute  to 
Lyly  in  Teares  of  the  Muses,  62-3 ; 
Lyly  alludes  to  his  death,  i.  516,  539; 
the  example  of  his  allegory  in  The 
Shepheardes  Kalettder,  ii.  256 ;  his 
Faerie  Queene  influences  Loves  Met, 
i.  74 ;  iii.  293 ;  Three  Letters  1580  be- 
tween him  and  Harvey,  30;  Harvey's 
parade  of  friendship  with,  63. 

Stage-furniture,  ii.  265-6,  270,  iii.  14, 
519*  559i  563,  567;  Diogenes'  tub, 
ii.  547. 

Steinhanser,  his  essay  John  Lyly  als 
Dramatiker,  ii.  244 ;  on  Lyly's  use  of 
Allegory,  255-6,  258  note;  his  ob- 
jection to  plots  of  Camp,,  Sapho,  and 
Gall.,  272  ;  Sir  Tophas  as  parody  of 
main  action  in  Endimion,  276;  Venus 
protagonist  of  Sapho,  272,  Tellus  of 
Emiimion,  iii.  89, 

Stow,  John,  i.  396  note;  his  Survey, 
i.  17,  38,  67  note. 


620 


INDEX 


Sudeley,  Speeches  at,  i.  477-84,  405, 

409,530-1. 
Syxnonds,  J.  A.,   his  Shakspercs  Pre- 
decessors recognizes  Lyly's  importancei 
i.  119,  ii  343,485. 

Tasso's  Atninta^  suggestions  for  Sapho 

and  GcUlatheaf  ii.  48  3-4. 
l*entes  and  Toyles,  Office  of,  i.  38-40 ; 

Lyly  Clerk-Controller  of,  with  Revels, 

40, 70,  378,  383- 

Text,  treatment  of,  in  Euphues^  i.  98-9, 
178,  ii.  3 ;  in  the  Plays,  ii.  301,  305 ; 
iii.  4 ;  see  also  list  of  *■  Editions '  and 
'Text  and  Bibliography'  in  intro- 
ductions to  the  several  plays. 

Theobalds,  Speeches  at,  i.  417-9;  song 

at,  505-6,  385,  537- 
Thomdike,  Mr.  A.  H.,  Essay  on  Pas- 
toral in  Mod,  Lang,  Notes  Ap.  1899, 

i.  379,  "•  473-4- 
Tilt-yard,  the,  Whitehall,  celebration  of 

anniversary  of  the  Accession,  i.  410-1 ; 

speeches  at,  text  of,  41X-6;  notes  on, 

517-9. 
Time  and  Place,  see  *  Unities,  the. 

Toad,  jewel  in  head,  i.  335. 

Travel,  ii.  35-8,  30,  31,  i.  164-5,  167 ; 
Lyly  probably  no  traveller,  ii.  34 11.31- 
33,  479  11.  31-2.  i.  399  (note  i). 

Tfivmphs  of  Trophes^  The^  verses  by 
Lyly  on  suppression  of  Babington^s  con- 
spiracy, i.  401-2,  text  of,  iii.  427-33. 

Tylney,  Edmund,  appointed  Master  of 
the  Revels  July  34.  1579,  i.  ai ;  cen- 
sorship of  plays  vested  in,  35,  43,  53 ; 
34  note ;  40  note ;  signs  the  Accounts, 
41  ;  pay  double  that  of  the  other 
officers.  43  ;  difference  with  them,  69 ; 
profits  by  new  arrangement,  70;  his 
Flower  of  Friendship  1568,  used  by 
Lyly,  158,  J48  1.  13  note,  ii.  533,  535, 
537-40. 

Unities,  the,  their  origin,  ii.  366,  de- 
cadence, 367 ;  Lyly  s  inconsistencies 
herein,  367-8;  more  careful  of  Place 
than  of  Time,  36S;  most  careful  in 
his  two  last  plays,  367-8.  iiu  298 ; 
most  irregular  in  Endim.,  iii.  15; 
Baker's  remark  on  Scene  in  Endim.^ 
iii.  14;  abrupt  transfer — seven  or  eight 
instances,  ii.  369,  one  in  Whetstone, 
243,  several  in  Greene,  369;  Lyly*s 
advance   in    propriety,   369-70.     See 


also  under  '  Time  and  Place  *  in  the 
introductions  to  the  several  plays. 

Viper,  ii.  177,488,  500,  517,  518,  iiu 
130  1.  .^8. 

Virgil,  alluded  to  by  Lyly,  i.  158,  333 
1.  13,  "•  79  1-  23,  86  1.  35,  113  1.  23, 
130  1. 15,  153  1.  2  3,  565,  &c.  ;  Hensc's 
remark,  i.  148  note  3;  Cyclops  in 
Sapho  from,  ii.  365,  554 ;  Eurota  in 
GalL  ii.  431 ;  pastoral  names,  iL  48 1. 

Warner,  William,  his  Albion^  i.  390 
note. 

Watson,  Thos.,  his  friendship  wth 
Lyly,  L  35  ;  Wood's  account  of,  ib. ; 
Lyly*8  letter  to  1582,  26-7,  38  7  ;  pro- 
bable collaboration  in  Elvctham  Ent., 
386,  522-4 ;  burial  at  St.  Bartholomew 
the  Less  1592,  386. 

West,  Sir  Thos.,  M.P.  with  Lyly  for 
Aylesbury,  48. 

West,  Sir  William,  Lord  de  la  Warre, 
i.  19-20  note  7,  4,  1 1-2,  genealogy, 
48. 

Whip  for  an  Ape,  A^  text,  iii.  41 7-22 ; 
editions,  415;  date  and  authorship, 
415-6;  notes,  589-91. 

Woman  in  the  Moone^  The^  text,  iii. 
339-88  ;  introduction,  339-38  ;  notes, 
554-63;  editions,  329,  331;  sources, 
334-6,  ii.  345,  484;  date,  iii.  231- 
3;  Unities  strictly  observed,  237-8; 
verse  of,  233-4,  "•  294-5  ;  criticism, 
ii.  346,  347,  349.  350,  254,  256,  263, 
364,  268-9, 371,  373,  273,  277-8 -struc- 
ture) ;  suggested  satire  on  the  Queen, 
i.  63-4,  ii.  256  note,  iii.  236 ;  delay  in 
printing,  i.  63-4,  390  note ;  stage- 
directions  in,  iii.  236;  imitated  in 
Basse's  Vraniay  337. 

Women,  their  importance  in  Lyly's 
view,  i.  i6c-i ;  his  admirable  repre- 
sentation of  their  lighter  side,  ii.  282-3; 
Euphues'  misogynist  tirades,  i.  142, 
202,  241,  249,  253-6 ;  amends  to, 
257-9,  especially  to  English,  ii.  86, 
91,  100,  198-202;  satire  on  in  Pan- 
dora, ii.  256  note,  i.  63-4. 

Wood,  Anth.,  account  of  Lyly,  i.  7; 
mention  of  Plague  at  Oxford,  8,  10; 
of  W^ilUam  Camden,  9 ;  account  of 
Watson,  35  note. 

Wyatt  family,  at  Allington  and  Boxley, 
i.  384-5;  rebellion  1554,  ib.,  5. 


THE  END. 


25 


Oxford:  Printed  at  the  Clarendon  Press,  by  Horace  Hart,  M.A. 


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